#anyway these two little parts of my brain have been duking it out for hours and now it’s midnight and I haven’t eaten dinner

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

uh oh the metaphorical doctor in my head is getting mean

[the-iceni-bitch]

Territory Getting Hotter

Pairing: Carol Danvers x enhanced!Fem Reader

Words: ~2.9k

Summary: You’ve made another mess for the Avengers and they find out about your relationship with Captain Danvers

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fe receiving oral sex, use of toys, squirting, overstimulation, light dom aspects), mentions of canon level violence, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: I love these two!!! Dom!Carol is it you guys, wow. Also, reader is such a massive pain in the ass and I love her for it, I can’t wait to piss off every single Avenger with her antics.

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You beamed at Carol when she walked into the kitchen, still bleary eyed from sleep as she stretched and ran a hand through her hair.

“Hey babe!” You grinned at her. “Guess who made pancakes?”

“You’re the best sweetie.” She murmured, wrapping around your back and nuzzling into your hair. “We’ll make a housewife out of you yet.”

You laughed as she moved to pour herself some coffee when there was a sudden pounding on the front door.

“Danvers!!” A low voice shouted through the door. “Open up, its Rogers!!”

“Shit!” She hissed, looking around frantically as she tried to find someplace to stash you.

“Would you relax?” You said as you rolled your eyes at her. “He has to find out sometime.”

“Yeah, but not today! He already sounds pissed. One second!!” She shouted back, throwing on some sweats. “Just find somewhere to hide, I don’t feel like dealing with this today.”

She moved to open the door as you shook your head at her, weighing your hiding place options.

“Hey Steve, what’s up?” She said, nonchalantly as she let him inside.

“What’s up? Have you watched the news yet this morning?” He seethed as he stormed into the kitchen.

“Oh no. What did she do?” Carol said, taking a deep breath and cursing you in her head for whatever shit storm you’d started now.

“I can’t even talk about it, I’m so mad.” He growled, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee without even asking. “Even Stark was pissed, and he’s usually pretty lenient.”

“Uh-huh.” Carol said as she chewed on her lip and nibbled on a piece of bacon.

“She managed to drag Thor into it, too. We may have to move her to a full time handler, one that she can’t corrupt.” He said, starting to calm down a little bit. “We’re having a meeting about it in 30 minutes, just wanted you to be prepared. How would you feel about taking her on?”

Carol heard a snort from somewhere in the apartment and did her best not to whip around to find you. Unfortunately Steve heard it to with his damn super soldier hearing.

“What was that?” He hissed, his eyes darting all over the quarters.

“Uh, my smoke alarm’s been acting up.” Carol muttered, trying to usher him out the door. “I’ll think about it, see you soon!”

She slammed the door closed and started searching for you.

“What the fuck did you do, baby?” She asked, scanning the apartment for you.

“Y’know, I think I’m gonna leave that for a surprise.” She heard from above her head and shot her gaze upwards.

You had somehow managed to wedge yourself into a tiny corner in the ceiling of the hallway leading to her bedroom. She was giving you a disapproving look as you dropped to the floor with a grunt and grinned at her.

“You think you can handle me babe?” You said as you moved to the bedroom to get dressed.

——————————————————————————

The two of you were sitting across from each other in the conference room half an hour later, trying to act like you didn’t fuck each other’s brains out every chance you got.

Or, at least Carol was. You were sliding your foot up the inside of her leg as she glared murderously at you and you just grinned like an idiot. She shook her head at you and turned to look at the giant screen where Tony was pulling up the surveillance footage as the rest of the team gave you exasperated glances.

“Oh, here we go, we’re getting to the good part.” Tony said, giving you a meaningful look as he slowed the footage down. “Now who’s this guy you just punched in the face and then threw across the club like a rag doll?”

“I think that’s the Duke of Edinburgh.” You said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair.

“No, that’s the Duke of Sussex, y’know, the queen’s nephew.” Nat said as she took a long drink of her coffee, looking exhausted.

“Oh shit, really?” You said, still grinning like an idiot. “Whoops.”

“And wait, here’s where Point Break blows all the lights in the club, which he says was your idea, so the two of you can make a run for it.” Stark said when the video suddenly went black.

“We weren’t making a run for it, we were pursuing our suspect.” You said, staring daggers at Thor as he tried to sink into his chair.

“Uh-huh, and did you catch your suspect?” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, he’s in holding right now.” You said with a shrug.

“What?! Why wasn’t that in your report?” Rogers said as he started to dig through the pile of paperwork in front of him.

“I haven’t completed the report yet, Captain Rogers.” You said lightly. “I made sure to update Captain Danvers though.”

“Let’s not get off track, this is about you assaulting a member of the royal family.” Tony said as he tried to redirect the conversation.

“He assaulted me first! He grabbed my ass and made some very ungentlemanly comments about what he would do if he got me in his car.” You said, pouting as you rested your head on your hands.

“He did grab her ass, Stark. I saw it.” Thor piped up before Rogers shot him a look and he went back to inspecting his coffee.

“So you threw him? That seems like a bit of an overreaction.” Tony said with an uncomfortable shrug.

“It’s a reflex, Stark.” You said, your eyes rolling back in your head as the other women frowned at him. “Sorry, I don’t think putting up with sexual harassment is in my job description.”

“Ok, ok fine. Nat, is there anyway you can spin this?” Stark said, turning to Romanoff as she let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, the man is a pretty notorious dog, shouldn’t be too hard.” She muttered.

“Great! Excellent meeting team, see y’all at the next one!” You said, starting to stand up before Steve turned his attention to you.

“No, we still need to discuss your recklessness, Y/L/N.” He seethed, shooting you a scowl that you returned with a mocking air that had Carol trying to hold back a snort. “I’ve thought about it a lot and I think the best course is to have you under more direct supervision. I considered splitting up you and Odinson but I feel like that would just spread the chaos around after how much you’ve corrupted him.”

You shot a grin and a wink at Thor that he returned as the two of you finally relaxed, but Steve was still talking.

“So, Danvers is going to be accompanying you on your missions now. I feel like her levelheaded attitude is just what’s needed to keep you two in line.” He said with a satisfied smirk.

“Uh, you sure Danvers is the best choice there, Cap?” Tony said whole Nat snickered into her coffee.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?” Steve said as he looked around at everyone’s amused expressions with confusion.

“They’re fucking each other Steve.” Nat said nonchalantly, sending Steve into a spluttering fit as you started cackling and Carol just rolled her eyes and groaned.

“What?!” Rogers roared, his eyes moving frantically between you and Carol as you grinned at him like an idiot. “How long has this been happening?”

“Six months.” Carol said resignedly, taking a gulp of coffee as she shrugged uncomfortably. “Didn’t really feel like dealing with the paperwork.”

“Si... six months?” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. “And you didn’t think that might be a conflict of interest?”

“Don’t worry Cap, Danvers is quite the disciplinarian.” You said with a wicked grin as you waggled your eyebrows suggestively.

Carol growled at you and gave you a meaningful look, and you just rolled your eyes at her before leaning back on your chair and propping your boots on the conference table.

“Well... shit.” Steve sighed, running his palm over his face in exasperation. “I guess Bucky can probably oversee some of your ops, and I’ll take over the rest of them. What?”

You and Thor both groaned at that, rolling your eyes at each other.

“Just, Barnes? Could you pick a bigger stick in the mud?” You said with a shrug. “I mean, we get it dude. You were tortured by evil scientists for years who turned you into a mindless killing machine, who wasn’t? And, I love you Steve, but do you even drink?”

“Ok, we’re gonna head out now.” Carol said as she frowned at you, stepping between you and Steve before a real fight broke out. “Guess we’ll report to HR as soon as we can.”

“Uh-huh.” Rogers mumbled, pouting a little as she ushered you out of the room.

Nat followed after the two of you lazily, shaking her head at Steve and Tony as Stark and Thor tried to assure the Captain that he was loads of fun to be around and a blast at all their parties.

“Congrats again you two.” She said with a grin as she split down a different hallway to her own quarters.

“Thanks Nat! You ever gonna tell him about you and Wilson?” You yelled after her, laughing when she flipped you off over her shoulder. “Told ya they knew, babe.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled before grinning at you. “So, you beat up a royal?”

“Shit. In my defense, I didn’t know he was a royal until after I threw him.” You said, following her down the hall back to her apartment. “I thought he was just a smarmy asshole.”

“That’s the problem, sweetheart.” She purred over her shoulder. “You never consider the consequences of your actions.”

“That’s all I think about, babe.” You said with a wicked grin as you waited for her to open the door.

“And now you’re dragging poor Thor into your messes.” She tutted, shaking her head at you as she closed the door and stripped off her jacket. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you had a little crush on that himbo.”

“If you didn’t know better?” You beamed at her, starting to unbutton your jeans and step out of your boots. “Honey, he’s a literal god. I have a massive crush on him.”

“Oh, are you trying to make me jealous?” She ripped off her tank top and threw it aside. “Cuz I’m already pissed at you.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

She stepped forward and gripped your jaw tightly, smashing her mouth to yours as she started steering you towards the bedroom. You yelped when she tossed you on the bed, grinning as she climbed on top of you.

“You’re such a bad girl.” She growled at you, ripping your bra off in one quick motion.

You screamed when she slapped your tit harshly, the stinging sensation warming your chest while she bent to open the top drawer of the nightstand.

“I am. I’m fucking horrible.” You gasped as she rifled around. “What are you doing?”

She grinned at you as she straightened back up, holding a set of extra shiny looking restraints.

“These are vibranium.” She cooed as she grabbed your wrists and dragged them above your head, hooking them through the headboard as you panted underneath her. “I stole them from R and D, and there’s no way even you can break out of them.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” You said around a smirk, giving your hands a test yank and nodding appreciatively as Carol shackled each of your feet to the opposing bedposts.

She bit her lip as she stared at you, your legs spread wide over the bed and making your back arch. You moaned as she tore off your panties and slapped your pussy, your muscles twitching as arousal seeped out of you.

“Mmm, you look so good like this.” She mumbled, sliding down until she was laying between your thighs. “Can’t decide whether I should edge you all night or make you come so many times you forget your own name.”

She ran her tongue over your slit in a heavy stripe and you let out a shriek as you came as soon as she reached your clit. She pressed your hips into the mattress as she lashed her tongue against your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver with the strain of your orgasm.

“Looks like you made my decision for me.” She grinned at you before diving back in.

Her tongue swirled through your folds expertly, sucking your lips into your mouth and humming against you as your pussy started clenching around nothing. She wrapped her lips around your clit and you came again with a sob as your limbs pulled against the restraints, your body trying to arch off the bed.

She shoved her tongue inside you and you screamed as another orgasm crashed over you when her teeth brushed against your tiny bundle of nerves. Carol kept curling her tongue inside you as you vibrated underneath her, moaning as your release flowed into her mouth and soaked her chin.

“Fuck, Carol!” You whined as she sat up between your legs and lightly ran her fingers over your inner thighs. “That was almost too much.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” She smirked as she watched you panting underneath her, reaching for the bedside table again while you squirmed.

“Hey!” you exclaimed as she pulled out a massive dildo from the drawer of toys. “Is that my stormbreaker? I’ve been looking for that!”

“Yeah, well I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She murmured before dragging the length on the thing through your slick coated folds, making you keen. “Did you know this thing comes with a thruster?”

“Yeah, why do you think I bought it?” You teased before your eyes rolled back in your head as she shoved it inside you.

She started fucking you with the toy at a punishing pace, grinning as you came apart like putty in her hands. Tears started leaking down your cheeks when she turned the vibrating function on and angled it so it was teasing against your clit with each push.

You whined as she bent over you and wrapped her lips around your nipple and swirled her tongue around it. She grinned against your chest as you tried to arch into her mouth, your restraints still holding you in place.

“Mmm, you gonna come again baby?” She muttered, nipping at the curve of your breast as your body started twitching, your release looming over you as you sobbed wordlessly. “Do it, you look so pretty when you fall apart.”

She twisted her wrist and you shrieked as your pussy fluttered wildly, your release leaking out around the dildo and pooling on her sheets. Your cried as she kept fucking you through it, wet sloshing sounds filling her bedroom as the toy slid in and out of you easily.

You let out an inhuman wail when she turned on the thruster and you felt the tip of the toy punch you in the cervix, coming again immediately as your body writhed wildly.

“Shit, I see why you love this thing.” She smirked as she kissed her way up your chest, still shoving the toy into your overworked cunt as your body went lax, your head polling to the side and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. “You think about Thor fucking you when you use this, babe? Maybe I should bring him in here to fuck you stupid while I watch, would you like that?”

You just mumbled stupidly as your body shook with another orgasm, sinking into the bed in your fucked out state. Her slap snapped you out of it, making you take in a sharp breath as your brain rebooted.

“I asked you a question.” She growled as she twisted the toy again and you let out a low moan.

“I feel like this might be a trap.” You gasped as she palmed at your breast and laid down against your shoulder, still thrusting the toy into you viciously.

“That sounds like a yes to me.” She purred, nuzzling into your neck as she gave the toy a final push.

You screamed as she pulled it out of you suddenly, your release squirting out of you in a violent rush. Your body thrashed violently with the power of your orgasm and Carol cursed as you snapped her headboard and bedposts, the bed frame shuddering before one of the legs gave out and it sank to the floor with a crash.

“Holy fuck, you ok?” She asked, sitting up and grinning at you as she assessed the damage you’d caused.

“Yeah.” You said, swallowing thickly as you moved your limbs with a groan. “At least we know the cuffs work! Sorry about your bed.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She murmured, grabbing the key and unlocking the restraints before pulling you back against her chest. “We’ll just use yours I guess.”

“Are you gonna move in with me? I think that may give Rogers an aneurysm.”

“He’ll get over it.” She shrugged as you nuzzled into her chest. “Now, how do you think we should approach Thor?”

“What?! You were serious?”

——————————————————————————

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[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: hi guys, I'm changing a little my posting method. at first, I was afraid the chapters were too big and decided to divide them in parts and post a new part everyday (as long as there was a part to post), but it kind of affects the reading, so I will be uploading a new complete chapter every tuesday, hope it is better for you!

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2)

Part II – The Lord

The day after The Harvest, when you were designated to work for Lord Heisenberg, was a long one. Not really exhausting as you spent most part of it turning from one leg to the other waiting for someone to activate the bridge to the factory.

You were deadened by a miscellaneous of emotions battling to gain domain over your brain. You couldn’t stop thinking about waving your mother goodbye as the sun conquered the sky, shortly before being surrendered by the stormy clouds.

After the speech at the Chapel, you wanted to wander around a little bit, maybe hunt, thinking that it probably was your last walk on those landscapes, yet, you didn’t want to get late on your first day, so your feet lead the way past Heisenberg’s gate, close to the church. It wasn’t even lunch time when you reached the end of the road, facing the factory chimneys and the hell lot of metal discarded in its front yard.

You had completely no idea how to call someone or if you should, as far as you knew, the lord lived there alone and you didn’t think it would be a great first impression if you simply started yelling his name, so he could do that bridge thing.

Thus, you waited. Placing your bag on the ground, you stood there for what seemed to be two entire hours. Then you got tired and sat, your corselet holding your oxygen levels. After a while even being sat was annoying, your legs tingled and your stomach hurt, once you completely forgot to bring any food with you.

That would be a great time for the Duke to make an entrance. As one of his most loyal clients – maybe you sneak once in a while, claiming possessions of one or two crystals –, sometimes you two shared a meal and Gods, he was a good cook. But it wasn’t his week at the Village and that wasn’t his store’s place anyway.

When the day light began to fade and the clouds grew heavier, you started worrying about getting wet. To divert your mind from that thought, you left all your belongings at the end of the road, not too close to the border, so hopefully they wouldn’t fall in the water below, and explored the ruins, studying the bricks that build those structures, absolutely bored, not even anxious anymore. At that point you could think about a thing or two to say to that idiot Heisenberg.

What would happen if he didn’t open the gate? Could you just walk away and live your life? Well, that didn’t sound like a bad plan, if just you could reach the forest first… The first water drop popped in your hair, the rain it announced didn’t take long to join it and a few moments later you were soaking wet, cold to the bone, contracting every muscle.

Suddenly, as you were about to curse Heisenberg’s name, a gear sound rose, it sounded old, but well-oiled and was really loud, louder than the rain and thunders and made you and the crows jump, they flew, you stayed as there was nowhere to go. Approaching your dank belongings, you saw a firm, modular, sand-coloured bridge forming in front of your eyes. Its movement was smooth comparing to something that big. You were genuinely impressed and would like to ask a few questions about how that works.

This surreal vision absorbed you for a few minutes after it was done, you didn’t feel the rain chastening your skin anymore. To be honest, at that point you realized where you were at and what you had to do, after an entire day in standby.

Your own brain didn’t really wake you up from that hypnosis. Oh, no. What made your heart rate rise again was a sudden, strong and frisky voice coming out of nowhere. You looked around, moving your head way too quick, making a spray of water with your hair and saw no one, but his words were most certainly there, echoing in your mind, making your entire body feel warm.

“C’mon, honey pie, we ain’t got all day.” He said, demanding, and then laughed.

Great, a madman, you thought. You weren’t sure, though, if you blushed intensely due to what he just called you or because every cell of your body felt enraged with that joke, it was you who had been waiting for him, you who would be forever wet, because he left you in the rain. You wanted to walk to that factory and tell it straight to that son of a…

Shortly, you understood. It was a test. You took a deep breath, grabbed your stuff, which made a humid sound, and walked resiliently to the factory’s gate. He wanted to see if you were a spitfire and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“She walks.” He giggled, the voice of the wind, and then opened the gate.

Was he doing it with his mind? You knew that Lady Beneviento had some sort of effect on people’s brains, hallucinations they said, Lord Moreau could turn into a giant fish, Lady Dimitrescu had impressive long and strong nails that could tear anyone apart. What could Lord Heisenberg do, really? The villagers talked about he being one of the strongest lords, if not the strongest of them all. He had some power over metal, but you didn’t know exactly how it worked.

Anyway, you stepped in his front yard, facing the absurd, yet fascinating sea made of his discarded toys. For Gods’ sake, you even saw a war tank half buried in the dusty soil, you couldn’t even imagine how he had that and why he would so easily neglect it. There were ripped off motorcycles, destroyed cars, metal pieces with a huge variation of sizes and shapes and a ton of mechanical parts just lying there as a good old scrap heap.

Home, you thought sarcastically and smiled. So, when the last factory doors finally spread open to you, you faced the interior with a smile on your face even though you were miserable due to the storm. Carefully, you came inside just to be greeted by a puff of heat and sweet smoke, really welcoming at your state. The warmth certainly came from all the machinery working there somewhere, making a metal orchestra that never shut off. The smoke, well, it was coming from Heisenberg’s lite cigar.

He came from above, as a god like being, building stairs with metal parts right in the mid-air and climbed them down. You had never seem such thing and it was breath-taking; you were hypnotised for a moment there, silently dripping on the grimy ground, actually cleaning it a little.

He had some sort of waddle on his walk, nothing tawdry, though. Karl Heisenberg looked like an authoritative, impulsive and humorous man and he was, above all, having fun with you being there as if you were his new pup and you sure were.

“Oh, look who finally made it!” He greeted, on the ground, standing three steps away from you, the smoke so dense it made your eyes water, yet reassuringly hot with a tobacco scent.

Heisenberg took off his spectacles, just then you realized he was wearing them inside the factory. Besides that, he was dressed exactly the same as the day before, it didn’t seem he’d showered or so. Nonetheless, now you could see his eyes, his multi-coloured greyish blue abysms staring straight at you for sure this time.

All you felt able to do was stare back, almost not blinking, taken by those soft colours on a rough man like him. You thought you would be scared, although, you were honestly intrigued. You noticed another scar crossing his cheeks and nose and wondered how it ended up there, feeling all of a sudden tempted to reach it with your index finger, gently sensing the cicatrized skin.

“Good evening, sir.” You found yourself saying to be polite, breaking the motionless aura that sunk you in contemplation.

It was bizarre, but you weren’t cold anymore nor angry, you had the grip over your own posture again, your corselet helping you to keep your back straight. You were confident.

“Good evening, Y/N.” This you weren’t expecting, almost broke you. Why would he bother to memorise your name?

You remembered what Miranda said about being solicited by one of the lords, that made you shiver, exactly like the one you had before, only this time you could also smell the iron all over, not only taste it. The scent in the closed atmosphere of the factory had a light, almost undistinguished, aroma of the night, the fresh breeze and dry grass, maybe brought by you, however, most of it was rusted metal, motor oil and tobacco. It wasn’t unpleasant, just uncommon to what you were used to.

“Guess you found less transparent clothes.” He said next, circling you, studying you and your reactions.

You noticed he also smelled like the factory as if he was part of it, or it was, indeed, himself. You closed your eyes and the iron taste emphasized, it felt like you were licking a ring, you head spined.

“It is tradition to wear them at The Harvest.” You defended yourself – and your pure intentions.

You don’t know why, but you felt your cheeks burning, actually, parts of your body that would usually pass unnoticed had lite with the tension in the air and you just hoped you could be alone, devouring some food to calm your nerves.

“Horseshit!” Heisenberg raised his voice, coming through his pressed teeth. “They just make you wear those slutty clothes so my sisterAlcina can see all of her new pups’ assets.” Heisenberg mocked, laughing madly.

“Oh.” You couldn’t think of anything better to say, you never thought of that.

At that point, you were thinking about yourself, your dress and how you felt pretty wearing it. Did it count on the selection? You felt slightly ashamed, Heisenberg’s breathing was too close to your left ear, but you wouldn’t dare to move or your noses could collide.

“Surprised?” He questioned, maliciously. You didn’t answer immediately, you were too aware of how your boobs were trying to escape the corselet’s dictatorship. “I asked you…” He bellowed “are you surprised?” he finished in a lower tone.

“Y-yes.” You finally said. “Never thought of it.” You looked at the ground, discovering a puddle where you were standing.

“You sound like an outsider.” He ruminated, more to himself than to you.

“I kind of am.” You confessed, thinking about the cabins. “I am from the cabin people.”

“Hm… Interesting.” He glanced at you, head to toe, you couldn’t help feeling heated as you never felt before. “Sorry about the rain.” Heisenberg shrugged. “I am a busy man.” He justified, mischievously, remembering you of the anger you felt back at the bridge.

The lord left you alone for a second, walking past through a curtain. You followed him into a small improvised office area with photos all over a wall, it pictured the Village, the lords’ lots and Mother Miranda, a big poster of her right in the middle. It had a knife scratch on it. Maybe Heisenberg wasn’t a family’s man after all.

You were regaining your confidence as he was distracted with the pictures – or you thought he was, unable to really see what he was picturing –, you were seeking for a good ambiguous thing to say about waiting so long for that sort of reception, however, he was quicker and made you gasp, almost choke.

“Take ‘em off.” It was an order said firmly. The way he looked at you, as if he was some kind of authority, gave you the chills.

“Them?” You innocently asked, placing a hand on your belly, trying to breathe.

“Your wet clothes.” He explained, pointing to your entire body.

“All my clothes are wet.” You insisted, flushing heavily.

He took his very own overcoat off and handed it to you. You hesitantly accepted it, not knowing exactly what to do with his eyes on you.

“For fuck’s sake.” He turned away, chuckling.

You waited half a second to be sure he wasn’t secretly looking, you didn’t know if there were cameras in the room, so you started undressing. It wasn’t a very easy dress to take off, you couldn’t reach the laces on your back, because of that, you had to ask for his help.

“Can’t even take off your own clothes, kitten.” Heisenberg mocked, as his adept hands slowly, playfully, untied the laces.

His touch was warm, he slipped his hand and you felt his calloused fingers on your skin, your body hair immediately responded husking and an electrical current flowed through you, lightening your eyes, reverberating to your core. He also felt that and some other things that made him put away his hips, but once you were facing the entrance, you couldn’t see his reaction and only heard a small movement of boots.

Lastly your dress fell to your feet and you covered yourself with his bulky overcoat, feeling better as you inhaled his aroma so intensely you almost fainted with those mechanic flavours petting your skin and his body warmth heating you.

“Now, enough chit-chat. Your duties.” He broke the silence as you finished tying the fabric belt around your waist.

“Yes, sir.” This time it was him who took a deep breath, seeming a little bothered somehow like he could use some time alone.

He had been a lonely man. You didn’t hear other people, well, living people, in the factory the next days and realised it was only you and him. It must have felt weird having someone around after years of living like an eremite. Even with all the jokes and that cheap charms, the view of him tilted to the investigative board gave you the impression that it was a bit too much having you there all at once and decided to put your rain resentments aside ang give him a chance and some space.

“I need some cleaning. I am expanding some experiments and I need to use a new wing for it, but it’s really messy.” You couldn’t see his face, but you were sure he had a grin adorning his scarred lips.

“I will do it.” You said, a little disappointed that this was your choir and surprised you were expecting something more… Dangerous? Exciting maybe?

“Of course you will.” He was leaned on the office desk, not even looking at you anymore, suddenly sold out. “One more thing.”

“Yes? What is it, sir?” Heisenberg shook his head making his grizzly hair dance as if getting rid of a thought. It wasn’t clear if he was still having fun or being disturbed by something.

“There is only one bed in this factory.” You turned stone cold with that announcement, abruptly conscious of all the blood running through your veins.

A secluded part of your mind, a usually quiet one, whispered a thought: It would be good to see where his blood is running to.

“Unless you want to sleep in a stretcher.” He added, laughing vigorously, giving you the chills again.

“Oh no, I will take the bed.” The answer came easily as if it was always there.

You took your wet clothes and belongings after he told you how to access the bedroom and you left him alone to it, whatever it was.

[elysianslove]

hi! how have you been since the hell that ensued after halloween is?

also could you do a batboys college au? like their major and how the reader would meet them and all that jazz? 👉👈

-🐥

hi anon!! i’m not sure what ur talking about @ the halloween stuff hvsdhjs but! here are the batboys hc’s! i’m not very familiar with duke thomas’s character enough to write about him tbh, so he’s not included here :( but if you want me to add him let me know!! i hope you enjoy!!

dick grayson

out of all the batboys i really didn’t know how to choose a major for him

but

i think he’d do law tbh, specifically criminal law 

his main motivation to become a police officer in bludhaven had been to be able to help people in any way he can 

i forgot if it’s canon or not but he does realize how corrupt it is and he quits but that’s another thing we won’t get into that lmao 

anyways yes let’s just stick with law 

meeting you ! 

he shares one or two courses with you

one that’s really early in the morning 

and one that’s later on in the afternoon 

dick is like a magnetic okay

anywhere he goes people are just attracted to him

like literally he will breathe 

but someone call the ambulance there’s a person that’s passed out bc of how beautiful he is

but this is an 8 am class 😃

so there’s no way ur awake enough to notice him

coincidentally he sits next to you one time

and this is the one time

you decide

yeah lemme just fkn sleep is uni even worth it 

dick definitely notices right away but he doesn’t say anything 

he thinks you look so cute passed out on your desk like this 🥺

when the professor signals the end of the class, he watches as people file out and then he just leans over and nudges you slightly 

you nearly punch him bc he scared you ❤️

he just laughs and goes “class is over” 

you just sigh like the guilt starts to hit you and your heart begins to sink

and he sees your disappointed face and just goes 

“i took a lot notes. i can share them w you?”

lifesaver in every single way dick grayson 😻😻😻

you had another class that you had to run to and you were rushing

he was like “dw i’ll just give them to you whenever i see you next” 

and you 🏃🏻‍♀️ outta there

imagine ur surprise when u enter class at 12 pm and he’s there in all his glory 

after the lecture is over, he walks up to you as you’re packing and asks if you want to go to the coffee shop nearby 

to take his notes of course

and you finally register just how handsome he is 

so obviously you say yes wtf

and the rest is history 😼

he asks you out, properly, pretty early on tbh 

so unfazed lmfao 

now you take naps on his shoulder instead of the desk 💞💞💞

soooo into pda 

kisses u when he first sees you

when you’re parting ways

when he feels like it

straight up cuddles w during lectures i’m not even joking 

it’s disgusting how cute you two are 

gets you coffee for all those 8 am classes u have w him hehe

study dates always turn into karaoke sessions somehow don’t even ask lmao

jason todd

english literature 

this is a collective agreement right? 

right

definitely english literature 

i dont even think he wants to go to uni but he’s going to waste time plus this is bruce’s money 😏🤑

your major doesn’t necessarily have to be english literature as well

but you share one class

and my god 

you two disagree on everything

like every little thing

at this point if he says something and you slightly agree internally you’ll still say some opposing shit 

that’s kinda what draws you to him 

at first you genuinely had nothing against him

but then this kind of rivalry developed for no specific reason 

but it was fun

and he was hot

so seeing him get flustered or angry made him even hotter somehow 

but then

but t h e n

you’re not sure if your professor like ships you or something

so you’re assigned a debate topic on one of the books you’d discussed in class/one of the books you’ve read outside, and within each group are the two sides for and against 

not only were you in the same team as jason, but you were on the same side as him

so you had to work with him

the audacity of the professor omg 

but jason needs this course 

and 

well you don’t but it’s too late to back out now 

you two meet in the campus library after deciding on a book with the other two of your team

and 

honestly??? 

you two work so well together 

like insanely well

during the debate you destroyed the other team 

spoiler alert 

doing so well with jason kinda made you like hot and bothered 

seeing him in his zone

sexy <3 

what i mean to say is

you both end up making out in some storage room lmfao 

or hate sex 😏

professor has a phd in matchmaking 🤔😻

i think you two don’t admit you like each other

bc you’re both stubborn as fuck

but eventually you’re literally on his lap on his couch and it just hits you

and you lean back and go

“wanna go out w me” 

and he just shrugs and goes “sure” and pulls you in for more kissing hehe

he’s not v good at the boyfriend thing tbh

you have to chase him around and be like “sir!!! did u forget about me huh!!!”

he doesn’t mean to i promise

he gets all blushy and flustered once he realizes 

only ever into pda if he’s insanely jealous 

will straight up make out w u regardless of where u are or who ur with lmfao 

he’s still getting used to the little intimacies and all 

debates in class are so much more fun now cause he finds it so hot when u get all riled up hehe

that eng lit professor is so happy for you two omg

tim drake

okay i also couldn’t really decide for him

but maybe he’d study something like physics (or maybe computer engineering/computer science) 

idk u have to have a death wish to wanna major in physics so tim’s major it is

i’m not sure how it works for every other uni but my uni requires 6 credits of sciences to graduate 

so let’s say for the sake of this hc u take like just the first level of physics to get 3 credits 

and 

you’re struggling 😃👍🏼

so you like approach your professor with a few questions before the quiz 

but tim is also there

and he kinda makes small talk while you two wait outside the office

and he asks why you’re here

you show him

and he’s like “oh i took this course w the same professor as well, i could help?” 

it’s like an angel had descended from the heavens for you personally 

you take his number and decide to meet up with him after a few hours 

he’s of so much more help than your professor would’ve been, even if ur prof is a really nice and smart person 

and he’s super like

patient with you? 

also he pays for all the coffee and snacks you’re getting after you already get them 

ur like bruh i didnt 

dont pay pls

and he’s like no im loaded let me 😼

swooning <3 

and guess what!! 

you ace the quiz out of some miracle

first thing you do is text him and he congratulates you 

and then

bc ur not blind and tim is so fucking cute

you’re like “can i take u out to thank u” 

tim’s brain stops working but ! 

he does say yes eventually 

he becomes your designated physics tutor + your amazing boyfriend

being with tim is so like

chill

it’s a very relaxed time 

lots of study dates! and cafe dates! all hours of the day whether the sun is up or not 

into pda but to a certain degree 

like yes of course have a kiss pretty baby 

but also it will only be a small peck

any time anyone passes by like common rooms you two will be there snuggling on the couch, one or both of you completely passed out 

damian wayne

business major 100% 

or a bsba econ major, which is basically the business side of economics 

he has to take over his father’s company one day duh 

also i genuinely think damian would excel in this field 

he’s a very keeps to himself kinda guy in uni

like you only ever see him in your common classes and then he just

disappears 

anyways there was this party that everyone was going to, and damian wasn’t planning to

but dick accidentally read some groupchat’s messages and was like are u going

damian went 🏃🏻‍♀️

but dick was like go and try to make friends !!!! 

and dames cant say no to his big bro 🥺 so he goes

stays in a corner on the settings app the entire time

like half an hr in he just leaves and is walking home/back to his dorm when you come like rushing up to him 

you’re zooming 

and then you just latch onto his hand and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear “this person’s been following me for like 15 mins just please go along w this” 

he kinda stiffens but when he does notice that there’s a person eyeing you he slips his arm around your waist and just carries on walking

he walks you to your home/dorm and is like

so awkward 

but it’s okay ! ur a people’s person enough for the two of you 

you thank him so much over and over 

and then you’re like 

“can i take you out on a real date?” 

and then he becomes ur real boyfriend hehe

is still super stiff but it’s only bc he’s so hyper aware of how attractive you are

and i’m super positive he doesn’t have that much experience with dating so 

you hold the reigns 

but he’s a great boyfriend all in all tbh 

super attentive, super protective, and so loving 

isn’t into pda especially on college campus but he does like subtle pda

things like linking your pinkies or giving you his hoodie to just parade around campus hehe

end note; i’m sorry if these feel rushed or anything like. i used to be an avid writer for the batboys, but i just haven’t been feeling it lately. i still love to write from them bc i know these boys so well eeeeppp. anyways feel free to request some more!!

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

[max-is-tired]

bad things happen request: A1 + roceit? -ren

Remember me (for centuries)

Pairing: the AU is queerplatonic Roceit and romantic Analogicality, but the ships are not very prominent in this installment

Characters: Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders

Words: 3.835

Warnings: superhero AU, implied morally grey Janus, Remus and Roman, superpowers, swearing, a muzzle is used, fighting, there’s a character (OC) that has very black and white views and definitely goes too far because of it, if I need to add anything else please tell me

Notes: guess who’s back babey!!!!! After two months of writer block, I’ve managed to churn out this little monster in less than 3 days and I’m honestly lowkey real proud of it sjkcndjkscn it’s inspired by this idea I had the other day and after I remembered this specific prompt I just went full feral writer mode. I even have a few ideas for a sequel, so there’s that I guess!!

First fic for the @badthingshappenbingo!! The red squares are prompts that have already been requested, feel free to send more in though!! I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get to them but hopefully you won’t have to wait too long. Hope you guys like the fic!!!

Commission me!!  Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!!  AO3!!

Once upon a time, there was a King.

He was as regal as he was mysterious, powers so strong he might as well have been able to make literal mountains kneel before him. Everyone knew of him, from the filthiest criminal to the richest man. He saw everything, heard everything, nothing and no one could escape his power. He was the judge and the executioner, protected the city in the way he saw most fit with the Puppeteer and the Duke standing at his sides.

The government called him dangerous. The people secretly called him a hero.

Once upon a time, there was a King. Until one day, he was no more -exactly how Roman had wanted it to be.

+++

Parting ways with Janus and Remus hadn't been easy. They'd been at his side since the very beginning, from the first appearance of his power to his decision to do whatever it took to protect those who couldn't.

"I'm always down to fight the government," Janus had said with a smirk, easily slipping into his Puppeteer alter ego as Remus simply swung his morning star around with a feral grin.

In the end, though, the King had had to go, and even then those two had supported his decision. What Roman had done to deserve his brother and his partner, he still had to understand. And besides, it wasn't as if he had had to cut them out of his life or anything! They still hung out lots during the day, either at the twin's apartment or at Janus' penthouse (being the only heir to a very rich family could have its perks, he supposed).

But at the end of the day, when the sun left the sky and the cover of the night fell over the city, it was the Puppeteer and the Duke who patrolled along the dirty rooftops, taking on those crimes Lady Justice seemed to overlook -Roman was nothing but a college student now and could only watch from afar, some part of him stubbornly longing for days that had since come to an end.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Then, well, Patton had happened.

They had met during a Psychology class they were both taking -for Patton, it was for his major, while Roman was just there for the credit. They had hit it off almost immediately, the both of them bonding over the pain that were morning classes and bemoaning how much money they were probably going to spend at the local coffee shop in order to survive the semester.

As much as he prided himself of being way smarter than people gave him credit for, Roman couldn't say he had figured his classmate's secret identity out immediately. It had taken him a few weeks and even then, he had needed Janus' help for his brain to click the dots into place.

Well, actually, it had been thanks to the recordings of one of the Puppeteer and the Duke's patrol sessions, during which the two had managed to stumble upon the new ragtag trio of superheroes, Storm, Heart and Logic, taking care of a small robbery downtown.

Janus and Roman had been analyzing the video, with Remus unhelpfully chucking pieces of popcorn at the back of their heads, when video-Heart had thrown his head back and laughed, grinning from ear to ear as Logic seemed to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Roman had frozen, the laugh ringing clear as day in his head as the last piece of a puzzle he hadn't known had been there slid into place -he knew that laugh, heard it every Tuesday and Friday morning before class as he sipped at his coffee and watched Patton try to fit as many puns as he could into a single sentence.

Patton was Heart. His friend was a superhero. Well, shit.

So yeah, Roman had figured it out and immediately started panicking about the newfound information. Janus and Remus, of course, had found the entire thing hilarious, teasing him about having somehow managed to stumble upon and befriend a superhero without even knowing it.

In the end, though, what exactly could he do? Roman was only a college student, and it wasn't like Patton was doing this alone -he had Storm and Logic by his side, keeping him safe and watching his back. His friend would be fine.

Then, of course, in came Virgil and Logan, the infamous roommates Patton had wanted to introduce him to since day one. In less than an hour, Roman had managed to help Pat gently bully Virgil out of his binder for the night and start a debate with Logan about the scientific accuracy of Elsa's powers and just how theoretically powerful she could have become based on the abilities she had showed in the movies.

(Olaf's existence had sparked a whole other tangent about conscience and the existence of souls on a metaphysical level, but Roman was not going to think about it lest he ended up having another existential crisis).

The real plot twist had happened much later into the night, when Roman had woken up to frantic whispering and soft rustling coming from somewhere to his right. Still keeping his eyes shut, he'd managed to catch the words "robbery" and "be careful" before hearing one of the windows gently slide shut.

Making sure to not alert anyone about his eavesdropping, Roman had waited until all he could hear was steady, even breathing before quietly sitting up, eyes shining gold into the darkness for a second before spotting Logan and Patton's figures on the ground -as for Virgil, he seemed to be nowhere to be found, the apartment being completely silent beside the two sleeping soundly beside him.

Roman had a suspicion. A very nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that was probably going to bother him until he got to the bottom of his. So, in the morning, he'd said goodbye to his new friends and headed to Janus' place, pondering over alternative explanations on the way over. Not that it would have been of any use since Janus did confirm that a robbery had taken place the night before, and that it had been halted by no other than Storm himself.

So. Virgil was Storm. Which, by taking the most logical leap, meant Logan was no other than Logic. Cool cool cool. No doubt no doubt no doubt.

… There was no way Roman could sit back and watch, was it?

And so, Prince stepped into the light, flames dancing on his fingertips and on the blade of his katana -a gift from Janus, who had reacted to Roman's sheepish smile with an eyebrow raise- and a bright red sash crossing his chest.

Logan and the others had been rather welcoming to the new superhero amongst their group, if not a little skeptical about his motives -Roman could not quite tell them he was doing all of this to give them an additional layer of protection, since he knew from experience just how dangerous the superhero gig could be. They thought all he wanted was to protect the innocents like a knight in shining armor, and he just never bothered to correct them. It wasn't like that was a lie, anyway so he didn't really feel guilty about it.

… Okay, maybe he felt a little guilty about keeping his former identity a secret. So what? It wasn't like he could go to his new friends and say "Hey, remember that one dude that scared the shit out of everyone? Yeah, that was me, fun times am I right??". And besides, it wasn't like King was going to do a comeback anytime soon, if ever. Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

+++

It had started as a normal night-time patrol around the outskirts of the city. Roman had been joking around with Virgil, jumping easily from rooftop to rooftop as they exchanged dry remarks and teasing nicknames with Logan and Patton watching on in amusement.

Then, suddenly, an explosion.

They'd all frozen, exchanging quick glances as a cloud of smoke started to rise into the distance. Without a word, the four had bolted, the easy atmosphere that had surrounded them up until that moment gone in an instant as they prepared themselves to deal with whatever was expecting them.

They reached the plaza in a few minutes, immediately setting out to assess the damage. Strangely enough, there didn't seem to be much out of order -there were no civilians around, the few that had been around at that time of the night having been probably startled away by the explosion -which had probably gone off at the center of the square, judging by the debris and fairly-sized hole. Though the cause of it didn't seem to be anywhere to be found.

At least, until an amused chuckle resounded from behind the four.

They turned around, ready for a fight, only to be met with a grinning Nautilus.

"Oh, how nice of you guys to drop in!" the hero chirped, his grin only widening even more -Roman did not like the crazy glint in the other's eyes, his hand moving to hover a little closer to the hilt of his sword as a bad feeling started to pool in the pit of his stomach.

"Hello, Nautilus!" Patton greeted, his smile now a little tense around the edges -Roman couldn't help but feel glad he wasn't alone in his distrust, not missing the way Logan and Virgil also seemed to be a little more on guard.

It wasn't like Nautilus was a villain or anything, at least not for the public opinion. He meant well, Roman knew that, but the way he viewed the world -black and white, good vs evil with no space for anything else in-between those extremes- was something Roman just couldn't trust, knowing all too well how such a way of thinking could very easily skew someone's morals way too close to ruthlessness and self-justified cruelty.

So yeah, Nautilus might have been a hero, but Roman wouldn't trust him with the life of the most innocent of kittens.

"Nautilus, do you know the cause of that explosion?" Logan spoke up, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, that was me, nothing to worry your pretty brain about my dear Logic," Nautilus responded, waving the concern away with way too much nonchalance for Roman's liking. "I was just taking care of some little pests, nothing to worry about."

"By making the fucking square blow up?" Virgil asked, scoffing.

The other simply shrugged, once again dismissing the remark. "Sometimes you gotta do some harsh things to get rid of a problem, don't you agree?"

Oh, Roman did not like that smile one bit.

"What do you mean?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice neutral as his grip on his sword tightened.

Still smiling, Nautilus snapped his fingers, a water tendril appearing from behind him. And in its grasp, a familiar figure uselessly struggled for freedom, brown eyes glaring daggers at the hero's back. Faintly, Roman could easily picture the snarl currently adorning the Puppeteer's lips.

Lips he could not see, because Janus' mouth was currently being covered by a muzzle.

"Pretty cool right?" Nautilus grinned, stepping onto another tendril to let himself be carried at Janus' level. "A friend of mine made it, perfect to stop our local charmer from using his nifty powers."

Ignoring the way the other heroes were staring at him in various stages of horror, he grabbed Janus' chin, tugging his face forward until they were barely inches apart.

"Not so cocky without that silver tongue of yours, uh?" he purred, before pushing him back. "It's high time you face the consequences of your evil doings, you slimy snake."

But the Puppeteer's eyes were no longer glaring at Nautilus. No, they were trained on Roman's form, on his clenched fists and the way his eyes kept flashing a familiar golden color.

"Well, look who's gone and fucked up!" a voice chirped from above, attracting everyone's attention to the top of one of the surrounding buildings. The Duke gave the heroes a toothy grin and waved, legs swinging into the air with his signature morning star resting idly on his shoulder.

"Ah, the Duke," Nautilus hummed, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, "I was wondering when you'd show up. Are you here to rescue your dear teammate? Please, do try, I'd love to bring down two villains in one day."

For the surprise of almost the entire square, the Duke let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back as his whole body shook with the force of his cackles.

"Oh, please! As if I'll need to do literally anything," he said, amusement lacing every word. "This is your funeral, dude. You really angered the wrong royal."

Nautilus frowned, opening his mouth to reply -probably to ask what in the world the other was talking about- but all that left his lips was a startled yelp, fighting to keep himself steady as the earth started to rumble and shake beneath his feet. Because of the sudden distraction, all the tendrils of water broke off, included the one holding the Puppeteer. Without missing a beat, Remus jumped down and grabbed Janus before he could pummel the ground, holding him bridal style while sporting his best shit-eating grin.

"Told ya!" he sing-sang, sending Nautilus a mocking glare. Not that the hero was looking at him, mind you. He was more focused on his fellow "hero" standing just a few feet to the center of the square, his eyes blazing golden.

"Duke," called Roman, his voice clear and authoritative as it carried all around the plaza, "get him out of that damned muzzle, would you?"

"Aye aye sir!!" Remus chirped, easily ripping the piece of metal away. "Do you think you could leave a few bones intact for me to break? I wanna have some fun too!"

"Sorry, Duke-" the other chuckled, the sound sounding almost haunting to everyone else's ears- "but I don't know if I’ll have enough self-control left to do that."

A circle of golden light appeared at Roman's feet, rising up in the air and enveloping his body as it went. And then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind a vision no one had ever thought they'd see again.

Bright, golden eyes. Hair as dark as the night. The uniform of a royal, a burgundy sash crossing his chest from shoulder to hip. In his hand, a familiar sword glinted under the artificial light of the street lamps, the hilt the same golden as its owner's irises.

The Prince was gone, lost in a circle of golden light. And at his place stood a very angry-looking King.

"That- that can't be!" Nautilus exclaimed, taking a step back. "You're gone, you can't be here!"

"Can't I?" The King -Roman, the King was Roman- asked, cocking his head to the side. "Who are you to tell me where I can and cannot be, Nautilus?"

"I'm a hero!!" the other snapped, his words laced with the desperation of a man who is standing face to face with his impending doom. "I'm a hero, you rotten king, and I after tonight I will be remembered as the one who wiped you and your villainous reign out of this city!"

Roman hummed, looking absolutely unimpressed as he calmly inspected his sword.

"You call yourself the hero… and yet, you are the one using downright torture-like methods to try and squash down those who don't fit your narrow view of good. All the Duke and I did was rescue our companion form your grasp. So tell me, Nautilus -are you really sure I'm the one you should call "villain" here?"

The hero growled at those words, eyes flashing in barely contained rage as tendrils after tendrils of water rose up behind him. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for forgiveness at my feet."

"Oh honey," the King drawled, lips stretching into a feral grin, "at the end of this, I won't be the one begging for their life."

And off they went, crashing into each other in a whirlwind of water and metal.

Taken as they were with each other, the two supers barely spared a glance to the huddle of five people looking on from the side of the square.

"What the fuck." Storm whispered, staring shell-shocked at the scene in front of him. "What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-"

"I know, right?" the Duke exclaimed, completely ignoring the hero's obvious growing panic.

"Duke, play nice," the Puppeteer drawled, with the heat of someone who had had to deal with the other's antics for way too long to really care anymore.

"Storm, please take some deep breaths for me," Logic said, stepping into Virgil's line of sight. "Do you remember your breathing techniques, yes?"

Storm nodded, visibly trying to get his breathing under control to do just that. Heart, obviously worried, moved to sit beside him, resting one hand on his shoulder to tap a regular rhythm there.

Virgil looked up at him with a small, grateful smile, raising his own hand to cover Patton's before closing his eyes to focus on his breathing.

Once it was clear Storm's panic wasn't going to advance any further and risk affecting his powers, Janus let his eyes wander towards Logic's standing figure, the hero's gaze fixed on the ongoing fight.

"You don't seem too fazed with the revelation," the Puppeteer pointed out, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, it's not every day you find out your teammate is actually the very ex-vigilante that used to terrorize the city."

"If I remember correctly, the people targeted by the King's actions were almost all corrupt politicians and crooked cops," Logic pointed out, turning his head to look at the vigilante. "And besides, I already had my suspicions."

Janus couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle. "What was it that tipped you off?"

"Honestly, I started growing suspicious during the Prince's first day on the field," the hero shrugged, pushing his holographic glasses up his nose. "He looked way too familiar with fights involving supers to be a newbie. Add in the pseudo he chose, plus the somewhat similar outfit… once the doubts started creeping in, it was relatively easy to connect the dots."

"Roman," the Puppeteer piped up, "I know you guys know him outside of the mask, so we can use his name -all the royal pseudonyms can get real old real fast."

Logic gave the vigilante a long look before nodding, letting out a soft sigh. "I suppose that makes sense, since you all were allies prior to the King's disappearance. I suppose you won't be sharing the reason of that, by the way?"

Janus shook his head. "It isn't my story to tell -I'm a keeper of many secrets, Logic, and I'm not about to go divulge them without a valid reason to. If he wants to tell you, he will. In his own time."

"Normally, I would point out that we cannot be sure that Roman will even be able to tell us, since he's currently going against one of the heroes with most raw power," Logan pointed out, "but I have heard enough stories about the King's power to be fairly optimist about his odds in this fight."

Janus chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Case in point-" he said, gesturing back towards the square- "it looks like the winner has just become clear."

Just as he finished speaking, Nautilus came skidding on the pavement towards them, bruises and cuts covering his whole body as he struggled to get up again.

"Told you I wouldn't be the one praying for mercy on my knees, hero," the King drawled, his uniform looking barely crumpled by the fight.

"I will never bow to you, villain," Nautilus growled, fighting to keep himself upright.

Roman arched an eyebrow, an infuriatingly amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Are you sure about that? because you look just about to fall over."

"You may have defeated me, but soon the entire world will know the truth!" the hero shot back. "Their beloved Prince, hiding such a rotten secret… how do you think they will react? Every hero will not rest until you and your companions are locked shut behind bars. Your time is coming to an end, King, and I'll make sure to save myself a front-row seat for the day you'll finally be kicked down from your throne of evil."

"A very poetic imagery, I'm sure," the Puppeteer drawled from behind them, gathering everyone's attention on himself, "though I'm afraid you won't be able to reveal jack shit, you pompous asshole."

Nautilus frowned in confusion until he felt a slight tugging at his hand. Eyes widening, he snapped his head down, eyes zeroing on the yellow string wrapped loosely around his wrist.

"Sleep now, and forget," Janus ordered, eyes flashing bright yellow, and down Nautilus went, knocked out cold.

Silence fell, only interrupted by the faint sounds of sirens approaching from afar. After a few seconds, Heart went to open his mouth, hand outstretched towards the King's back, only for the vigilante to suddenly bolt without a single word and disappear into the night.

Janus and Remus exchanged a look, obviously debating something between themselves without using any words.

"Go," Logic called, catching their attention. "We won't tell, we promise."

The two vigilantes looked at the trio, watching as both Storm and Heart nodded in agreement. Then they smiled, saluted, and took off.

"Do you think Ro will come back?" Heart asked worriedly, eyes traveling from the direction the three had taken to the quickly-approaching blue and red lights in the distance.

"He better, or I'll go and find him myself," Storm muttered darkly, biting at his thumb.

"Only time will tell, there is no use in worrying about that now," Logic sighed, just as the first police car drove into the square. "For now, we better come up with a believable story. They'll want to know what exactly caused the square to blow up in the first place."

"Why lie?" Heart asked, giving his friend a small smile, "after all, Nautilus was the one who did it, wasn't he?"

Logic smirked lightly, nodding. " I suppose that is true."

"You know, sometimes I forget just how much of a little shit you can be," Storm commented, tone laced with amusement. "Then you go and pull things like this, and I get reminded all over again."

"Kiddo, language!" Heart gave an exaggerated gasped, eyes twinkling in mischief. "I just don't like lying, you know that."

Logic watched as the two snickering heroes approached the police, shaking his head with a small smile. Tonight might have raised quite a few questions, but he had no doubt the answers would come, eventually.

All in due time, he supposed.

+

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[livelivefastfree]

have you been working on any new fics?? (your stories are wonderful, ive drowned myself in polyburners thanks to you 😔 its a good place to be)

Not really anything new, although I’ve been picking away at some older ones that I never finished!  Namely the plot-heavy sequel to my telepathic soul-bond superhero AU, the intimidatingly complicated sequel to Save A Horse, Ride A Dragon, and my Burnerswap AU where the villains are all our new Burners and the Burners are villains.

Unfortunately since I’m a nurse work has been kind of stressful recently and also my brain only likes to focus on one thing at a time which is currently original novel things.  So process is pretty slow, haha.  But I’m glad I could bring more people into the polyburners fold!

I do feel bad that I haven’t had the energy to post much for a while; revamping my burnerswap doc is the most recent thing I’ve gotten work done on, so here’s a little bit of scene-setting!

Deluxe is a mass of spires and platforms, shimmering in the sunshine outside Red’s window.  Red stares up at the ceiling, at the pale golden glow of sunlight on the pale polymer.  He can hear the sound of someone loudly imitating an electric guitar, and faint thumps and thuds through the wall; Duke is taking his traditional lengthy shower and using up all their precious hot water.  From the smells drifting up from downstairs, Jacob is already up and in the kitchen experimenting.  Kaia is probably upstairs on the roof, tending to her plants, and Abraham had to go back down to the undercity last night.  His absence is a hole; no sound of him talking to Jacob in the kitchen, working out irritatingly on Red’s balcony, yelling at Duke for using up the water.  There’s always something slightly off, a little bit wrong, when part of their team is missing.

Red sits up, buckles his patch on over the remnant of his left eye, and pushes himself up out of bed to see what’s for breakfast.

Jacob is stirring something in a pan when he Red arrives.  There’s a heaping basket of miscellaneous vegetables on the counter next to him, so probably Red’s in for some kind of veggie abomination this morning—but it’s a veggie abomination Red doesn’t have to make and then burn, and he doesn’t really have a sense of taste anymore, anyway.  Red drops into a chair, and Jacob piles up a plate of fried vegetables and sets it wordlessly down in front of him.

It’s quiet for a while. Red eats as much as he can manage, and Jacob knows him well enough not to frown when Red has to push the plate away half-eaten.  

“Quiet night?” he says, eventually.

“All quiet in the pit,” Red says, and goes to the cooler to fish out a nutrient shake instead.  “No calls from Abraham.  No alerts, no bots, no Dragon.”

“Mm.”  Jacob shakes his head, making an unconvinced grumbling noise.  “They’ll come.  They always do.”

Red can’t argue that. He stayed on the edge of the platform until the small hours of the morning, looking down into the dark city far below, watching every gleam of light and flicker of movement, waiting for the first flash of red glass eyes or matte metal claws.

The others drift downstairs eventually, one at a time; Duke grimaces at the vegetable mess, but Kaia piles in with every sign of enjoyment.  Red sits back and listens to Jacob and Duke bicker, Kaia’s laughing jabs at both of them indiscriminately, and lets the sunlight soften some of the harsh, nauseated fatigue.

He doesn’t realize he’s beginning to drift off, but when his comms light up red with an urgent chime, it startles him badly enough he almost drops his drink.

“Come in,” Abraham’s voice says, flat and low.  “Red.”

“Copy,” says Red, and pushes himself up, already moving. The rest of his team reorders around him, Jacob heading for the garage, Duke and Kaia immediately running for their rooms, their weapons.  Red picks up his gloves, feeling the circuitry inside thrum hotly against his palms. “Incoming?”

“How did you guess,” says Abraham dryly.  “Three Climbers.  Two on North Side, one coming up from the East.  And she’s sending up the Dragon.”

Red falters in mid-step, then growls and heads down the staircase to the garage, taking the steps two at a time. “Can you make it up?”

“I can try,” Abraham says, but Red knows that tone to his voice, rough and grim.  “I think she’s targeting the medical complex on platform 18.  Don’t get distracted.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Red says, and Abraham gives a brief bark of a laugh and then cuts the call.

--

Deluxe looks beautiful in the sunlight, if beauty is something to pay attention to; Red has seen it a thousand times, growing up from the old undercity of Detroit like an indescribably huge tree made of silver and marble.  The platforms that make up the city itself look almost fragile from a distance, hovertech and superlight polymers, gleaming with solar panels and greenery.  The massive support structure that holds the city up grows dirtier and more patchwork as it descends into the bristling thicket of ancient, blocky concrete buildings.

Whole civilizations have made their homes on the platforms along that winding trunk.  Around its base, built onto the rooftops of old skyscrapers, Red can see the distant gleam of the Casino King’s sprawling compound, gaudy with red and gold floodlights.  There are urban legends about an entire lost city, one that made its living in among the building-sized struts and cables themselves, before some unspecified calamity cut all communication with them short.

Some of the midway settlements are against Kane, some of them are only indifferent, but Red can only assume that trying to bargain her way through was too much trouble.  Kane took matters into her own hands, and had her R&D invent the Climbers.

Red has eyes on one of them now; a long, low shape, slinking across the platform.  Six-legged, with four glowing eyes each, moving with an unnerving, artificial grace—the mechanical nightmare-offspring of a wolf and some kind of insect.  The tips of their claws hum faintly, lit up—plasma-cutter edges, sharp enough to sink into the polymer like hot knives through butter.  Red is a platform above them, out of their field of vision, but he’s seen the way the things scale vertical surfaces, faster than anything that size should be able to move.

As Red watches, one of them opens its mouth, showing hundreds of needle-sharp fangs lit hellish red from the inside, and lets out an awful, scraping snarl.

“I’ve got eyes on one,” Red says, keeping his voice low.  

“Yeah, yeah, we see ‘em over here too,” Duke says, tight and sharp with bravado.  “Easy.  Let’s get it done!”

“I’ve got your back,” Kaia says.  “Let’s show these things what—”

“Hey, Red,” says a voice, and something taps Red on the shoulder.  “Tag.”

The moment of shock is enough to freeze Red in place for a single fraction of a second, and that’s a hesitation he can’t afford.  A blunt edge slams into his ribs, knocks him over off his feet; he rolls, comes up on his feet again and sends out a blind shockwave of energy—throws himself to one side as a staff sweeps past where his ankles were, and this time when he lashes out he feels the impact strike true.

The Dragon of Detroit takes the hit and lets it bowl him backwards, turns the motion into a back-handspring and comes to a skidding halt, shaking overgrown brown bangs out of his dark eyes.  He’s laughing, smiling as wide and wild as he always does; the deep scar that stretches crookedly from his cheekbone to his chin twists his smile into something just slightly crooked and bitter, but his laugh sounds irritatingly, insultingly genuine.

“Chilton,” Red snarls, and the man spins his staff behind his back and sweeps a bow, grinning.  

“I’m guessing you’re not interested in doing this the easy way, kid,” he says, and Red clenches his fists, lightning crawling up his arms.  “Yeah, I didn’t figure.  Can’t say I didn’t try.”

“The fuck I can’t,” Red snaps, and Chilton huffs out a breath and shakes his head, ever-present smile never fading.  “If you really cared about not hurting anybody you wouldn’t be working for that—”

It’s the flicker of Chilton’s eyes that gives it away, and the faintest sound of scraping metal; Red dives to one side on instinct, just in time to avoid the snap of jagged metal jaws and six sets of wickedly-clawed feet.  He comes up swinging, lands a few solid hits; the Climber shrieks as one of its legs spasms and cracks, red lightning and dented metal grinding in one of its back legs.

“Backup!” Red snaps into his comm, and then there’s only the fight.

He’s being distracted, he knows it even while it’s happening, but he can’t break his focus away long enough to care.  Chilton is gone, he has to be raiding that medical compound, and Red is stuck here, fighting some stupid robot—

“Heads up!” yells a voice, and Red glances up and then back-pedals abruptly as a huge, blocky shape comes rocketing off the next platform up and drops like a comet onto the Climber’s head.  The back half of the bot gives a meaty crunch as Jacob’s construction rig lifts back off of it, leaking nasty, thick, black fluid as it tries to drag itself forward on its two remaining legs; Red steps forward, grimacing in distaste, tears a dented plate away and buries his hand in the things neck to deliver one final, merciless jolt.  The Climber whirrs, gives a gurgling growl, and finally goes still.

“Jumpin’ Josephat,” says Jacob, from inside the clunky, ugly cube he calls a hovercar.  “You still in one piece down there?”

“Where’s Chilton?!” Red says, and then jerks and looks up at the sound of a laugh, echoing off the white walls and walkways around them.  

The Dragon is standing at the very edge of the platform, silhouetted against the sky; he makes eye contact with Red, brief and grinning, one hand on the side of a stolen transport pod. Then he throws off a brief, mocking salute, and launches himself backwards off the edge of the platform into thin air, vanishing over the edge.

“Criminy,” says Jacob weakly, because Jacob is an 80-year-old man in a 20-year-old body.  

“Fuck,” Red hisses, and slams a fist down on the ground, leaving lightning-jagged scorch marks across the white polymer.  Takes a few breaths and repeats, “…fuck,” soft and hoarse, poisonous in his mouth.

“Yeah,” says Jacob, and his boots thump softly as he slides down, his hand settles carefully on Red’s shoulder.  “C’mon. Let’s get back to the others.”

[adoraang]

She-Ra Week Day 5 by @fauxghosts

Prompt: PRINCESS PROM / healing

Summary: When Glimmer and Bow bet Adora she can't ask Catra to prom before the end of the spring musical, she gets frustrated with her feelings.So what do you do when you've got a bunch of pent up frustration?You duke it out in the Denny's parking lot with your crush in a lightsaber duel.

Read it on AO3

“You’re not gonna do it.”

“I am not gonna do it,” Adora said dramatically as they stepped off the stage after finishing Act Two.

Their school, after constant begging, had finally decided to do a production of Les Miserables. After doing things like Seussical (they don’t talk about that) and High School Musical (nothing wrong with it, just mundane), the theatre department wanted something more serious. Something that would challenge them.

So they forced their director, Double Trouble, to fight with the school about doing Les Mis. Despite some of the… suggestive stuff from the show, the school probably didn’t want to fight some theatre kids, and let them have their show.

The audition process is always the scariest. Being a soprano, she only had one role really available to her: Cosette. Glimmer and Bow peer pressured her into auditioning for a lead instead of going straight to ensamble, and she still wasn’t going to do it, but then Catra asked her to do it, and she couldn’t say no.

Adora ended up cast as Cosette, and she had practically cried of happiness when the cast list came out. Glimmer had gotten Fantine, being a very low mezzo. But then Catra’s name was listed for Eponine, and she just about proposed right there.

They were far from love interests. In fact, they were love rivals. Sea Hawk was the one playing Marius, and the two girls spent the entire show in love with him, which wasn’t the funnest. Neither of them even liked boys, so for Catra’s character to die because she was delivering a letter to Marius… It was a trip.

Even if they weren’t true love interests, and only shared one song with each other that wasn’t the Act One finale, Catra and Adora still spent the most time in rehearsal together. Ironic, because the one song was called A Heart Full Of Love, and it’s Adora’s hardest song, in her opinion.

She gushed about Catra to Bow and Glimmer everyday in the car home from rehearsal. “Guys, I think my heart is full of love. Would it be weird to ask Double Trouble to switch Marius and Eponine? I’d rather spend the whole show simping about Catra then Sea Hawk-”

“Adora!” Glimmer cut off. “You’ve been halfway in love with Catra since Seussical, and I think that’s saying something. You should tell her. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“She rejects me, never talks to me again, drops out of the show, and I can’t spend the rest of senior year with her or college, since we’re both going to University of San Diego together to major in theatre, and she’ll never want to be in another role with me!”

“You’re freaking out again,” Bow childed, not turning away from the street as he drove. “You know Catra isn’t like that. And I don’t think she’ll reject you in the first place.” “I am so tired of hearing Adora talk about Catra when Catra probably likes her back,” Glimmer growled. “I’m going to do something about it.”

She reached into her pocket, and Adora almost hopped over the console. She thought they were going to call Catra and tell her something, and it was enough to make her take off her seatbelt, despite Bow’s car safety. “Glimmer, wait-”

Instead, she pulled out her wallet. “I will give you fifty dollars if you ask Catra to Princess Prom as a romantic date. I’ll double the offer if you do it before closing night.”

“An extra twenty if she says yes!” Bow chimed in.

Glimmer and Bow don’t struggle with money, so a hundred wasn’t a lot for them, but Adora’s eyes grew wide as she thought about it. Of course, it involved asking Catra out, but she’d figure that out later. “You have a deal.”

“Now please put your seatbelt back on!” Bow screeched, his voice cracking.

Which brought them to now, as they got into position for curtain call. She’d be bowing with Sea Hawk after Catra had hers with Kyle (who played Enjorlas, and it’s still shrouded in mystery how he got the role). Glimmer was one of the first to bow, but she still caught the wink as she walked away.

“That thing is huge,” Catra mumbled when she got in line backstage, waiting for their cue.

Adora looked down at her costume. The huge wedding dress wasn’t her favorite costume from the show, but it couldn’t be more appropriate for the moment (or inappropriate, take the pick). Catra couldn’t look more beautiful in her sleeveless white shirt and brown skirt that hit the floor. Despite the fact that the belt on her waist was big on her and she had dirt slathered all over her, she’s never looked better. Plus the red cap… That stupid thing was going to be the death of her.

“It’s always been like this,” Adora replied, falling into her place next to Sea Hawk, who busied himself with Kyle. Her heart thumped with the question. She doubted Catra had feelings for her, but she could always ask as a friend. Not like Glimmer and Bow needed to know anyways…

Bow had been a life saver in tech. He always knew when to turn off people’s mics, including that one time he turned off Catra’s when she started shit talking principal Hordak backstage when he came to watch rehearsal. Luckily, he turned them off now as Adora made her attempts to approach the subject.

“Princess Prom.” That’s not a question, it’s a statement! “Uh, I mean…”

“Catra, you and Kyle are next,” Scorpia, their stage manager, said.

Catra nodded, then turned back to her. “So, this is it, huh.. Our last curtain call as seniors, being cast as the leads for the first time, our last show in general until San Diego.”

“Don’t remind me.” She already cried in her car as she drove herself and Catra to school, emotional about ending her last show already. Closing nights are always a mess, but it just hits differently as seniors, and when you’re playing love rivals with the girl you’re pretty in love with.

“I’ll see you on the flip side,” she whispered before she ran out on stage, the bright lights shining down on her.

Even though Adora could only see Catra’s back, they were both sad about this being their last show. They had identical tears pricking their eyes, and when she rushed off stage with Kyle, she braced herself for the emotions to come.

She took Sea Hawk’s hand, and they ran to center stage when Scorpia gave them their cue. She couldn’t stop the tears from coming, even as she bunched her dress in her hands to give the curtsey bow. Sea Hawk did the Jeremy Jordan bow, where he clasps his hands in front of him and takes his bow.

Their last show…

The cast got into a line going horizontal, pointing to their lovely orchestra for their part of the bow. They started to make their way backstage again, and Adora took Catra’s hand. For emotional support, you know? She wasn’t going to see the blinding lights or the tech week shenanigans or the mic taped to her forehead in high school again! Obviously she’s going to be very dramatic about it.

As the cast made their way to the green room, everyone was in the same mood: sad. Catra had opted for letting go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders as they silently sniffled. She was going to miss this…

“Closing night isn’t over, people!” Sea Hawk shouted, pumping a fist into the air. “Let’s go say goodbye to Double Trouble, and head over to Denny's!”

Ah, yes. The theatre kid ritual. Every show, they have to go to Denny'safter closing. It’s the law, and she looked forward to it every time. It always created the best memories, like when the obnoxious senior from last year, Octavia, got arrested for stealing a shopping cart.

Denny's always made her night.

“He’s not wrong,” Catra said to her. “Am I driving with you?”

“Duh.” Wasn’t that a given? Or was it too forward to assume. Or maybe-

“That’s what I thought.”

But when they stepped into the green room, all thoughts of Catra disappeared (for one second exactly) as Double Trouble walked in, whopping loudly. They gave their speech about this being one of the funnest shows to do, but Adora was too busy wiping her wet cheeks to really listen.

“Go out there, kids, and rule the goddamn theatre world!” Double Trouble finished, dismissing them for the night.

“To Denny's!” Glimmer exclaimed, giving everyone the pick-me-up they needed.

“To Denny's,” Catra repeated to her, quieter. To Denny'sit was. They walked to the parking lot, heading to her car, but Glimmer caught her wrist as she was opening her door.

“You only have a couple hours left. Use them wisely.” Satisfied with her words of wisdom, Glimmer got into the passenger side of Bow’s car parked next to them.

“I’m really going to kill them,” Adora whispered to herself as she put the key into the ignition. Her little yellow beetle may not be anything for any other high school kid, but it was perfect for her.

“Why?” Catra asked, having apparently heard her. Rats.

“Because.” And it was left at that before Adora opened her mouth again. “Princess Prom. That’s a thing that’s going on. It’s going on very soon. Like, in a month soon.”

“Yes, what about it?” Catra seemed so dismissive of it. She looked out the window, listening to Somebody’s Watching Me on the radio. Was she even going to go? What if she asked and Catra had no plans of going, and Adora’s unknowingly forcing her into it?

“Nothing.”

“Oh…” Catra traced the window with her nail. Now why was she all deflated? This girl is way too confusing for her brain. “I want to go, but I don’t want to be alone.”

Adora is going to kill someone. Seriously, all it would take is driving the car into Denny's. “Really? You’re going?”

“Not as of right now, but I kind of want to. Like I wouldn’t wear a dress or heels. But… I would want to wear a suit and maybe get my nails a color that isn’t black. But I don’t know who I’d go with.”

She momentarily turned away from the road to look at Catra. Bow would be screaming at her right now, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She was basically given an invitation to ask, but what if Catra didn’t want her to ask? What if she’s just talking about it? What if she wants Adora to set her up with someone else?

Catra opened her mouth to say something, but she got distracted by something gleaming in the backseat. “There’s no way I didn’t notice these earlier!”

She reached into the back, leaning across the console. Her white sweater rode up on her waist, and Adora exploded into a blush at the sight of some skin. Seriously, what is wrong with her? And because she doesn’t get cold, she wore a cropped red cami and regular black jeans. Her outfit did nothing to hide the blush.

Catra came back up, holding the hilt of two lightsabers. They were both big Star Wars nerds, and she spent thirty dollars (each) on these sabers. But the money from the bet would pay it back, if she actually did it. Catra dove into the backseat again, bringing the two sticks of plastic that she fastened back onto the hilt.

She pressed a button, and the blue light from Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber lit up the car. Catra stared at the saber, and Adora couldn’t help but notice how her skin managed to light up perfectly in the blue light. “Try the red.”

Catra turned off the blue saber, and grabbed a hold of Darth Vader’s lightsaber. The red added a dangerous feeling to the atmosphere. Blue was fun and playful. Red was full of passion, and the silence that followed afterward proved her point.

Finally, Catra cleared her throat, moving the saber around a bit. “Oh, I like this one.”

“But I like that one,” Adora protested as she pulled into a parking space at Denny’s. She could see everyone had already arrived. Not like she was driving slower than usual just to get a couple more seconds of conversation. No doubt they would see the red light and question what they were doing.

She pointed the end of the saber at Adora. “Well then, I guess it’s going to have to be a duel to the fate.”

Adora rolled her eyes at the reference, but grabbed the blue saber from the console, igniting it with the push of a button. “Okay, Eponine ‘I Died Delivering A Letter To My Love Interest That Was Actually About Another Girl’ Thénardier.”

“That’s the show’s fault, not mine.”

“Unimportant.”

Catra opened the car door, bouncing to Adora's side within seconds. She hastily took off her seatbelt, practically sprinting out of the driver's seat, spinning the hilt in her hand. “I’m pretty sure you’ve never fought with one of these.”

Adora scoffed. “I own them.”

“Yeah, just like I’m gonna own you!” Catra charged forward, raising her saber above her head before bringing it down on Adora. She barely had time to respond, lifting her own saber to block it as she sunk down to her knee.

“Hey, I just ordered our table! It’ll be ready in a couple minutes,” Scorpia said as she came out the door in time to see Adora stand and knock Catra away from her. “What are you guys doing?”

Catra held Adora in a parry as she turned around to yell, “Fighting, duh!”

“Yeah, we see that!” Bow shouted as Adora brought her sword back to her chest, making Catra stumble as they slowly moved away from her car. “Why are you guys mad?”

“Not real fighting!” Adora answered, moving in closer to Catra as their sabers met in the middle time and time again. “I’m defending my honor and rights!” “Yeah, her rights to dance with me instead of fighting in a parking lot!” Catra responded.

Adora faltered at that. Before she could begin overthinking what that meant in the middle of a lightsaber duel in the Denny's parking lot with the entire cast of Les Mis watching, Catra caught her saber and twisted her arm, causing Adora to completely let go of her saber.

“It’s over, Adora. I have the high ground,” Catra boasted.

“Not yet!” She dropped down low, catching the saber by the hilt before it hit the ground. She brought her blade back up, the two of them getting caught in another round of aimlessly swinging and blocking.

“You guys are ridiculous!” Glimmer shouted, her head in her hands.

“You don’t appreciate the true art of Star Wars like we do!” Adora yelled back.

Truthfully, this isn’t how she expected her last post closing night dinner at Denny’s to go.

When she was talking about it to Catra on their way to school, they imagined a tearful night. Majority of the cast and crew were seniors, and everyone loved them. Glimmer had basically adopted a little sophomore, Frosta, who played Gavroche (no one even noticed the genderbend!). They all thought they were going to be sad, and cry in the back of Scorpia’s pick up truck as they sang One Day More as a cast, one last time.

Instead, Adora was sword fighting Catra in the parking lot as all of their friends watched.

A great conclusion to her senior year musical, honestly.

Adora stood in front of Catra for a moment as they caught their breath. In an instant, they started twirling their sabers in their hands. The light from the blue and red was a whirlwind, and Catra laughed as they recreated that one scene from their favorite Star Wars movie: Revenge of the Sith.

Catra’s laugh was intoxicating. It made Adora let out her own giggle. They went back to fighting after a second, but Catra’s face illuminated by the red light in the nighttime made her stomach go up in butterflies.

“You were supposed to join me, not leave me in darkness!” Catra recited, smiling the whole time.

Adora swiped the saber at her feet, and Catra hopped over it. “Well, I love you!”

She froze, and Catra even faltered. But because she froze, Catra pushed her onto her back, pointing the red saber at her. “I know!”

For a moment, she forgot it was a reference to another one of the movies. But Adora let her saber fall out of her hand, looking up at Catra. The red light was stunning. Everyone else around them had fallen silent to watch the exchange. She then realized no one else knew what the reference was from.

“Guys, it’s from one of the movies!” Adora called out from her place on the ground. “Empire Strikes Back, it’s pretty good. You guys should watch it!”

Catra panted, looking down at her. “What?”

She was equally as confused. “What? What happened?”

“Oh, forget it.” Catra turned off the saber, holding her hand out instead. “Want to rule a galaxy together instead?”

“How about we start by taking over Broadway,” Adora grinned, helping herself up with Catra’s assistance. She turned off the blue saber, but they continued to stare at each other. Catra continued to hold her hand, but neither made any attempt to move away.

“Did we just hash everything out in a Denny’s parking lot?” Catra asked.

“I think we did..”

“Adora!” Glimmer shouted, interrupting their staring contest. “So like, I have a hundred with me. Bow has a twenty, but…”

The bet. A hundred and twenty dollars if she successfully asked her crush out to Princess Prom and didn’t get rejected. But they just beat each other up with plastic toys from the Disney store. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe they were, but then one of them would fall to the dark side and tragically die. Who knows?

“Oh, that thing where Glimmer and Bow were going to give you money if you asked me to Princess Prom?” Catra raised an eyebrow, laughing at Adora’s horrified face. “Bow told Scorpia, and she accidentally let it slip.”

Adora groaned. She wanted to go fall in a hole and die in a ditch. Maybe she should’ve been shot on stage instead of Catra. “Yeah, about that-”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me,” Catra said, tightening her hold on her hand. “I didn’t think I wanted to go, but then I heard that and I realized… maybe I did. The dances and stuff always felt really corporate to me, and it wasn’t my thing. But I went home everyday wondering why you hadn’t asked me yet, and then I realized-”

“Oh my god I am so sorry,” Adora interrupted. She was horrified. Catra knew the entire time. She’s been tripping over herself for the two months of rehearsal and three weeks of the actual production, but never stopped to think what if she already knew. She’s absolutely mortified. “You got dragged into this mess of a joke between me and Glimmer then Bow came in and I just thought, I don’t know. I don’t think or I think too much. Oh my god, I can not believe this is happening!”

Catra chuckled when she spoke without a pause. “Breathe. I’m not mad. Or upset or anything like that. I like you too, Adora.”

Her cheeks flamed. “You did?”

She nodded. “You’re not exactly subtle, per say…”

Adora didn’t feel like crying out of embarrassment anymore. She put her free hand in her pocket, ghosting her fingers over Catra’s knuckles with the other. “You actually like me?”

Another nod, accompanied with a gorgeous laugh. “Yes. Yes, I like you and all your high notes. You think I liked seeing you kiss Sea Hawk every rehearsal and show?” They both laughed. Neither of them like it, apparently, because Adora didn’t. “You and your private story where you rewatch Clone Wars with me and we both cry, and I get to see the video and laugh at how oblivious you were to notice that I liked you. You and your bootleg pirating, despite the fact that Newsies is your favorite and it’s literally proshot. So yeah, Adora. I do like you. You and your overthinking.”

Adora was over the moon, and she wanted to stay here in the parking lot all night and talk. But first, she had something to conclude. “So, Princess Prom. That’s a thing we should go to together.”

“We should.”

They did.

[ellana-ravenwood]

The Batfamily TV show I wish existed but that will most likely never be (wecanhopethough) :

I’ve been fantasazing a LOT lately about a Batfam centric tv show. Not a story just about Bruce and then the kids are somewhere in the background, or just about one of the kid, or one character of the “extended family”. Nope. A TV show, that would focus on everyone. And here’s a few of my thoughts haha :

We’ve seen enough of times Bruce’s parents murder so no need to have a scene of that again. Even people who never read a Batman comics or watch a movie/animated show, sort-of know how he ended up being Batman ya know ? It kinda became a trope, a classic scene, to see little eight year old Bruce screaming above his parents’ bodies, in an empty alley...We really don’t need to see yet another one of those. We all know the story. And for those who are not up to date, there will be hints of what happened dropped all through the show. Because it’s still about Batman.

The Robins and all though, often people don’t even know there’s more than one Robin ? Or at least don’t know how many there are really...So here how I would love for the show to start/be : 

The first few episodes would only be about ONE kid, and ONE “extended family member” (Like Babs, ya know ?). My absolute biggest dream would be to have the ENTIRE Batfam represented (or most, there’s some members from alternate timelines/world that I’m not sure would appear...or maybe just as a cameo ?), and each of them would have their moments, and be just as important as the other. My perfect Batfam TV show would portray how they are all linked, how they’re a family (albeit not always a very functional one) So. Here we are. Longer episodes than normal shows,more mini-series sort of things than the traditional 40 minutes episodes. I think an hour would be a good timeframe, at least for the “origin story” episode...so, yeah, longer-than-usual episodes about all the origins of the kids and all.

First episode start with Dick coming in young Bruce Wayne’s life. We quickly understand that Bruce just came back after years away from Gotham (and that it was to train to become Batman). He’s been back for less than a year, and already started to be a night vigilante...And here he comes. Little Richard Grayson. A boy in which Bruce sees himself a lot (because of the way he lost his parents). And so Bruce makes the crazy decision to adopt the kid (yeah yeah I know “ward”), and it literally changes the way he lives. And boom, Dick’s origin story. Maybe a little shenanigans across the Manor. Dick’s difficulty to adapt to living with Bruce now, and not having his parents. Showing how he can get so angry at times ! And how he isn’t just that jolly little boy who jokes around and hugs everyone he sees ? Basically, an episode that could show every faces of Dick Grayson. Because he deserves to have a show where an entire episode is JUST FOR HIM, and how he is.

Second episode would be Barbara Gordon’s introduction. Pretty straight forward. Who she is, daughter of who, how she came to become Batgirl. Her close relationship with the Batman and his sidekick(s). Showing all the dimension of Babs, her intelligence and such. She isn’t just “a badass girl” (she’d only be a girl at the beginning), but an extremely intelligent one who’s able to turn situations around that look desperate, thanks to her analytic brain etc etc. She’s essential in a lot of Batman stories.

Third episode would be Jason’s arrival. Completely different from Dick’s. the episode would focus on the few years he has with Bruce, and where he comes from. How Jason hasn’t always been “the rebel of the family” (and how actually Dick has that role more than any of his brothers really...in this episode, probably there will be a quick mention of how the “previous Robin” is sort of a taboo subject because he left Gotham to go with the Teen Titans and Bruce is still not over it...). How he’s actually really sweet, and so SO happy to be Robin, and finally have someone that cares ? Which will explain why he became Red Hood later on...The episode would end on his death.

Fourth episode would start with Bruce being depressed, still not over Jason’s death. It would show how he became even more violent, which he has fights about with Dick...At the same time, Dick came back to Gotham as Nightwing after Jason’s death to still be there as a support for Bruce. Dick is always there when his friends or family members need his help...Doesn’t mean they don’t fight though. Bruce is even tougher to get through to than he used to. Jason’s death really hardened him further, the guilt not helping, of course. And then...Here enters little Timothy Drake. “Hey, I know you’re Batman !” he tells him, smiling widely...A few of his (baby) teeth are missing, that’s how young he is. The episode would be about how Bruce refuses to take Tim in as first (even more so since Tim’s parents are still alive by then), and would show their relationship evolves, all the way up to Bruce officially adopting Timbo.

Fifth episode : Hey is that Stephanie Brown we see ? Yup it iiiiiis !! Her story. Her background. What’s up with her. This episode is all about her. How she’s an important part of Bruce’s life, however isn’t one of his adoptive kid (it would be weird anyway...it would mean she ends up dating her own brother...). I always viewed Steph’ as an important member of the “Batfam”, but not as one of Bruce’s kid ? Like, she’s most definitely cared for and loved, but she doesn’t permanently live at Wayne Manor, and isn’t officially his ward or adopted kid etc etc...Doesn’t mean she isn’t included and not sort-of-family ! But, ya know what I mean, extremely close friends can be family too (remember : this is only MY opinion and how I view the characters after I read comics with them, you can totally disagree...in that case do it nicely, please).

Sixth Episode would be Cassandra’s. Bruce is fighting against her father, and that’s when he finds that young girl that appears mute, and that just killed a few men in front of him. He learns of her story, how her father tried to turn her into a weapon since she was born, via some audio recordings he found in one of his hideout. And he feels utterly disarmed. What is he supposed to do ? He can’t let such a dangerous person out, at the same time, she looks so young...And it’s not quite her fault, according to the recordings...He can’t just leave her there, but he’s also sure that locking her up would do more harm than anything else. So he takes her in. Ensues the beginning of Cass’ evolution (the rest will be in other episodes).

Seventh episode would be the one where Bruce discovers that Jason is still alive, and that he HATES HIM. Fighty fights fight...Oh shit it’s my son. Flashback of how Jason got resurrected and his short time with the Al’Ghuls, and a little speech about why he hates Bruce so much. Very “Under the Red Hood”, I guess. Ends with a heartbroken Bruce, and an even angrier Jason (because he saw Tim and Cass and can’t believe Bruce still enrolls kids to be his little “child soldier”...of course, it’s more complicated than that).

Eighth episode, Damian’s dramatic entrance. “I thought you’d be taller”. He tries to fight every single one of his siblings (that he most definitely not consider as such yet) (and yes I’m including Cass because I want her to be part of it all...), and it’s obvious they let him win. Sure, the kid trained since he was born...But they’re all pretty old now, and trained by the Batman too. Damian couldn't overpower them that easily (yeah it’s a canon thing I’m not a fan of...). In any case, Damian’s first few days in the family are tough af...

Then after all those origin stories, a lot would happen before Duke’s episode finally comes (because he appears quite late in the Batfam). So an explanation about how he came to get in, what happened to his parents, etc etc. An episode about Duke ! He might come in only like, in a later season (again he comes really late into everything, although he appears before). But when he comes in, Damian is less of a brat now, and considers everyone his family etc etc.

I know there’s a lot more people that are friendly with the Batfam (like Luke Fox and all) HOWEVER, I wanna talk about the “core” Batfam, Bruce and the kids and all. Family. Now of course, Kate Kane would appear. Maybe have her own part of an episode about how at first she decides to become Batwoman of her own volition and isn’t even affiliated with Bruce. Her story at her military school. Why she decided to get into this business etc etc...Probably things about Jim Gordon too. Oh, and the villains ! But really, only full episodes about the ones that are really...family. Like, Kate is Bruce’s cousin and all, but...they always kinda had their own things going on. Now as I said, she’ll appear, but you know what I mean. Basically, allies and friends will most definitely appear, but they won’t all have a full episodes about them ? Maybe a story revolving around them, and therefor we learn the essentials. Also, lil introductions to all the pets the Batfam has (of course we’d have Batcow, Titus, Ace and other Alfred the Cat hehe). 

The narrator would be Alfred Pennyworth, because he’s the one constant in every story. He’s always there (or almost). First episode would start with Bruce as a little boy, after his parents’ death, training around the house, and then as the episodes unfold, more and more members appear, training with him (opening credits).

We’d just have episodes about their domestic life AND their detective life. A perfect mix of both World. And after all those introduction episodes, that would be all interesting because we all know those peeps have some wild backgrounds, then the audience would know everyone ! Now, it’s a lot of characters, so, once they’re all introduced, they don’t need to always appear. There would be episodes of all of them together, and sometimes of just two of them bonding over whatever ? Like, Dick and Jason. Tim and Damian. Etc etc.

And every episodes would talk about all the different facets of their personalities, and not only focus on stereotypes (like it’s often the case :/). Like, NONE OF THEM are one-dimensional characters. So, let’s show that Bruce is a caring man but also a total jerk sometimes, that Dick is the “carefree” one but also the “angry Robin” more than Jason is, that Jason isn’t just a killing machine and a rebel, but also very sweet. That Tim isn't just that coffee addict boy who never sleeps, but a selfless man who’s in it because he thinks he does the right thing. That Damian isn’t just a brat who hates everyone, but tries really hard to better himself and is actually extremely scared of becoming like the Al Ghuls and turning bad etc etc...Show their complex personalities, and not just boring and lazy cliches. 

Are you starting to see why this show would be impossible to exist, wether live action or animated ? Haha yeah, it’d be like, 300 seasons long hahahaha. Because there’s so much material ! ...But I’m pretty sure so many of us fans would watch every single episodes.

PS : This is an “adaption” I imagined, so of course not every subtlety about everyone are in the short synopsis of their episodes I gave, and there would be much more than that. And some aspect of the stories are switched a little. And it’s only snippets, small portions. My idea would be much more worked on. I just wanted to share the little things I thought about ^^. '

[piratewithvigor]

The Big Five

Summary: A newcomer to L.A., Y/N isn’t much for anonymous sexual encounters, but there are 5 exceptions.

Word Count: 1530

A/N: @niksixx​ and her story Number 73 spurred a big list of comments and ideas and I got this idea as a result of the discussion. Also my first attempt for a reader insert, so we’ll see how this goes. 

It’d been a lifelong dream of mine to move to California. The beaches were my original motivation when I was really young. My landlocked home state offered no such luxuries and they were too far away to visit, save for a few very special family vacations through the years. As I got older, the music scene began to be my enticement. Beaches were nice and all, but the guys who walked them were somehow growing nicer in my eyes. 

My Sweet 16 Birthday trip was when I decided I had to make a place for myself in LA. They were my kind of people. The crazies, the weird, the musicians, the lovers, the dreamers, the shakers, the movers… It was my city. The trip had taken months to save up for, both on my and Y/B/F’s parts, but on our final day, we made a pact that we’d return in a few years, with more savings. Enough to carve ourselves out a little place in the city. 

It took a while. A lot longer than either of us anticipated when we were thinking with our dream-clogged teenaged brains, but we made it a reality. The jobs we found after we made the move weren’t great, and neither was the apartment we were sharing, but it was our new home. Two bedrooms, a bathroom and a communal room that connected the entryway with pretty much everything else. At first, I’d been skeptical over getting a two-bedroom instead of saving a little by sharing a bedroom. Once Y/B/F started getting her nails into the beach boys we ogled as kids, I was only rueing not getting more rooms between us. 

That wasn’t to say she was the only one having all the fun. I was much more careful about getting myself into situations, but I slipped up once or twice. Or exactly five times, as Y/B/F liked to remind me. Five anonymous, deeply animalistic, frequently kinky, occasionally intimate sexual encounters. I never took them to our place. I never got so carefree that I trusted the hookups with my address. That was something only official boyfriends got to know. Y/B/F could always just tell what I’d gotten up to. My walk of shame was painfully obvious, but never so shameful that she didn’t press for details over breakfast. 

I knew the first one was going to be a hit-and-run the moment I saw him. He was the California man I was mentally lusting over since the idea first hit me. Long hair, eyes that oozed sex appeal once he caught you in his gaze, and had likely fucked everything with legs in that bar, stools and tables included. A second shot gave me the nerve to go over to him, but it turned out to not be needed. He was on the stool beside me at the bar once I turned to go over. I can’t remember what we said, only that his unfairly deep voice was lowering my inhibitions more than the alcohol ever could. Less than an hour later, I was gripping handfuls of his soft red hair and he was fucking the last of my coherency away. He was the first, and Y/B/F spent the next month pointing out every ginger she could to try and find the man whose name I couldn’t remember if I tried to get herself a taste of the honey.

Number two was different in every way imaginable. He was the California man I would have pictured as a kid. Blonde, toned, smiling brighter than the sun, and giving me the feeling that he could have been my best friend in the world. He probably could have been if I hadn’t left his place in a hurry after realising that it was Monday morning, and not Sunday morning, like I had thought. His address melted away from my memory with the hangover and by the next weekend, I was just hoping I’d never see him again, way too embarrassed to have been the one to run away before the other woke up without even a note. 

My desperate attempts to avoid blondie coincidentally knocked me into the arms of number three, whose name, I learned, was Duff. His was the first name I learned, but I was never sure if he was fucking around with me or not. I’d been staring across the room at the back of his head for so long, debating if it was in fact blondie or if I was just being paranoid. His own paranoia made him look back at me a few times and eventually stalk towards me, demanding why I was staring. I wanted to laugh off the mistake, but so many things about him caught me off-guard that I couldn’t do anything besides chuckle awkwardly. I didn’t intend to go home with Duff, but he lured me in quick and mercilessly. I left him my number, but without him calling back, he was resigned to number three.

Number four was the first encounter that came from a completely clear head. Clear from alcohol, anyway. Turns out, adrenaline is a mighty powerful aphrodisiac. LA had gotten me fairly used to regular catcalls. Catcalls, and sometimes even being followed down the street, Somehow, it never got me used to a stranger nearby turning onto my catcaller and threatening him with a new pet snake he had been carrying fairly secretly under his pile of hair. He insisted I come up to his apartment so I could call someone and he could make sure I wasn’t alone going home. He would, he said, but his snake needed to be fed immediately and not left unsupervised in a brand new environment. The call kept getting pushed further back as he introduced me to all his snakes, later including the one in his pants. Y/B/F didn’t say anything when she picked me up, but her eye roll spoke volumes. 

The siren call of the music scene had been beckoning me for ages, but I had always sworn to myself that I would never sleep with a guy just because he was a musician. That was a major fucking lie. Why wouldn’t I want to sleep with a guy who had dedicated his life to moving his fingers as swiftly and precisely as possible? It made number five a dream come true. He didn’t even need to bring me home to turn me into a mess inside and out. Innocent gazes and hands slipped under my skirt were all I needed at the table, and once he pulled me into the band’s dressing room, he got his turn. 

I’d hooked up other times, of course, but they were the only five I never heard from again. Never saw again, either, even when I was looking for them. It didn’t discourage me from still having fun. The only thing that did was the sounds of Y/B/F and her new boy toy duking it out all night every night. I knew I was just as bad when I got my shot at them, but it was almost depressing every time I came home empty-handed. After the third week of going out with nothing to show for it, Y/B/F almost had to drag me out for the last Friday of the month. 

“Is it a crime to just want to stay in on a Friday night for once?”

“It is when the only reason for that is because you keep striking out. It’s not happening tonight,” she insisted as we stood in line for the club.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Five bands tonight, including Izzy’s. With four to five guys per band, that’ll make twenty to twenty-five guys desperate to score with a hot piece of ass like you.”

“And a hundred girls for other options.”

“So you might get sloppy seconds tonight. At least you’ll get some,” she shrugged as we entered. I hadn’t met her boyfriend, Izzy, yet. Our schedules only seemed to line up when they were in bed together, and I had absolutely no desire to meet a guy right before or right after he scored. The only reason I had allowed her to take me out tonight was because this was his band’s biggest bill to date. Sure, they had to share it with other bands, but the crowd was going to be worth it. According to her, the other four guys in his band were almost as cute. 

We took our spots in the front row. With Izzy’s band opening, we had to be at the top of our game. Cheerleading was the name of the game. If they were actually good, it would be all the easier. 

The anticipation was eating me alive, but was promptly replaced with a mixture of nausea and arousal when Guns N Roses, as they called themselves, took the stage. My knees buckled the instant I caught a glimpse of the red hair. Ginger didn’t seem to take much notice of me, but Duff, Blondie, Snake Boy and Izzy all seemed to get the same kind of realisation I did when our eyes met. The Big Five. All together as a band.

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch8 Realizing Feelings P4

Trigger WARNING: Rouxls is going to have a miniture panic/anxiety attack in this chapter. Mak belongs to @coffincrawler

What soon followed after that was actually a dreamless slumber for once which was a surprise in of itself. Usually they were full of danger or Lancer's past shennnanigans, but oddly enough he didn't remember anything past falling upon the bed and giving a few coughs from the dust before he blacked out into dreamland. But when he woke up, he didn't have the usual dread or happy feelings from the past night. Though he was still pretty tired, and from the light noise outside, the rain had let up quite a bit. The bed was pretty soft and warm so he was tempted to fall back to sleep, but the soft coughing from the dust annoyed him enough to groan and sit up. His tired eyes blinked and after a while he managed to see past the usual darkness of his home. Pretty quiet since Jevil decided not to disturb his sleep this time. Well, no time for thinking about that now, Lancer would be waiting for-

.....Oh. Right. Jevil's little mind games tricked Lancer into ordering him on paid leave. Which banned him from the castle for the amount of time the king dubbed. Which happened to be a little over a week. He groaned again and reached his hand up to wipe at his face. Looks like he'd have to find something else to occupy himself today.

He threw off the blanket which also tossed up another cloud of dust and made him go into another coughing fit, waving his hands in front of his face. Whelp! He guess he found what he was going to end up doing all day today. Groaning, he tossed his legs over the side of the bed with a few last coughs and pushed himself off said bed, stretching out his back. It was going to be a long day regardless.

He found the cleaning supplies under the bathroom sink where'd he thought they'd be, and (after the usual morning hygiene) got to work on the two rooms and store front on hand. Dust. It was all mostly dust that covered everything, but there was also leaves, footprints, random items, half eaten dark candy, and random dirt and sticks all over the store front which made it the most dirty. So the living courters being less filthy would take less time to clean, so he began on those first. He sorta lost count of time around after he was done scrubbing the ceiling with a spare broom. His eyes watered and his lungs burnt from the amount of dust there was lying around. His brain was a bit fuzzed over with the sudden urge to clean up the very disgusting shop. No surface was literally left unscrubbed to the worm's disposal. Walls, ceilings, furniture, closets, doors...Clean freak to a whole new level. But it helped to pass the time to the worm and would temporarily dowse his worries for Lancer. So imagine anyone's surprise when the door his shop opened and the tiny bell above the door-

"DON'T COMETH IN!" The worm shouted from his position on the floor, on hands and knees. Whoever it was he could hear shuffle awkwardly on the outside of the door, just a couple inches from the actual shop floor. "Can't thou seest that the sign sayeth I amst closed for thine day?" He mumbled something to himself before dunking the scrub brush back into the bucket of soapy water before pushing it back down to the floor and began to forcibly forcing it back and forth against the unscrubbed parts of the store front. "I amst busy for the day and I shan't have time for thou's antics. If thou wishes to see to me about any problems with the king or guards, then I can't help thee until much later."

There was a small amount of silence as the newcomer watched as the duke continued to clean what was left of the floors before the worm broke it.

"Thou needs to leave before the winds blows anything into mine shop or thou dirty's thine floor anyway-"

"Ahahaha. Well, it's also a coincidence I'm also closed then. Eh, Duke?"

The worm stopped what he was doing and immediately looked over his shoulder. Right in the doorway was the giant cat he had previously seen around. Seam had to duck his head down a little bit to fit in the small doorway and gave an amused look down at the duke cleaning on the floor.

"And I'm afraid I don't seek any company with the kings.

"Then what art thou doing here?...Nevermind. Don't ruineth mine hard work." He went back to his scrubbing and gave a frown when he heard the old cat chuckle again.

Seam wouldn't lie, he wasn't expecting to walk into a spring clean up, but the worm's work was impressive by the way the place shined and how everything was carefully organized, anyone could've sworn the place was brand new. He guessed he should've expected some cleaning when he saw the two full trash bins outside the door, but he didn't expect to see Rouxls in this state. On hands and knees, hair in a messy bun with strands hanging around his face, and wearing something that wasn't a fancy suit. The sight made him chuckle again making the worm mumble again.

''I thought it was a bit wrong of me to take some of your wares, and since I needed to get some supplies of my own today, I thought it'd be only fair if I got some for you as well." His eye panned over to the makeshift clothes lines across the walls and into the next room with the many sheets and clothes hanging from them and hummed. "I see you thought of everything."

"I nay like a filthy home. I preferest to keepeth things in an orderly fashion. I know where everything is and control of mine space at all times.''

Seam hummed again and continued to watch the duke work for a little longer. "....How long have you been working?"

"Since I awoke hours ago-"

"Hours ago?...It's about eleven in the morning." That comment made the worm pause and look over his shoulder at the now confused looking cat. "My friend. Either you had woken up mighty early or managed to get hours of work done with just a short amount of time."

"I-....I'm used to getting things done when they needst to be. Mine king demanded it-"

"I'm pretty sure Lancer isn't one to demand a lot often." Rouxls said nothing but went back to the floor he was working on. Seam gave another hum and looked around the store front a bit more. "....I have to admit, you did a pretty impressive job for just a couple of hours. Could use that kind of energy for my sheap."

"Well, thou should put more work into thine home and appearance if thou wishes to accomplish anything."

"Have you even eaten today?"

"No." At the mention of food, his stomach growled making him wince.

"Why don't you take a break? I left that cake in the cubord over there. A little unhealthy for breakfast, but I don't think there's anything else to eat in here from what's been taking and all."

"Nay! I'm far from done." The duke finally scrubbed the last of the floor ear a corner in the far side of the room and sighed, leaning off his hands and onto his knees. Stretching his back out before turning to Seam.

"How much could possibly be left? It looks like you went crazy with a broom in here." He gestured one of his paws to the practically sparkling space.

"Worm! I obviously have thine shoppe window to taketh care off ....and thine locks to fix to keepest pests out." He mumbled that last part to himself but Seam's sensative ears caught it just like everything else. "And the very fact mine supplies art dangerously scarce is cause for concern."

His stomach gave off another growl and he growled at it. Dropping the scrub brush back into the bucket with a small splash and standing back up onto his bare feet. He bent back down to grab said bucket and walked across the shop entrance towards the room entrance behind the counter. Seam gave a smile and watched as the worm disappeared into the back. The sight amused him more than anything really. And so, he dared to step into the worm's forbidden cleanliness. Surprisingly most of the floor was already dry so he didn't have to worry about slipping or leaving watery footprints. He was never fond of water anyways. He placed the over sized bag in his hands on top of the counter and tilted his head to the side to face the entrance to await the return of Rouxls. Seam didn't have to wait long before the duke finally came back, wearing another fancy suit none the less. Rouxls froze upon seeing the cat by the counter and Seam chuckled at the expression on his face.

"This part of the floor is dry already," he said before he could start on a rant and pointed to the floor.

Rouxls scowled. "I still didn't say to cometh in!"

"You said without supervision. You're still here as far as I can tell." Rouxls sputtered making him chuckle again.

To change the subject Rouxls pointed at the bag and asked, "And what didst thou put in there?"

"Oh, this?" He patted the bag. "A lot of dark candy sprouted this season and like I said, I've already taken my fill of them. I did say I had brought you some after I took some of yours."

"What's inside?"

"Eh..Mostly dark candy and tea leaves, but I did bring back the books and spare blanket I borrowed."

"You mean stole."

"I do remember you saying you didn't care about what I took that night we met. Implying you technically give me permission to have it."

"You- I-....I didn't mean-.." The cat simply smiled at the sputtering duke as his face turned a dark blue out of embarrassment or anger until he turned away in a huff making him chuckle again. His sputtering was quite amusing. "W-Well....I appreciate thou's generous return of mine objects, but I still have duties to attendeth too."

"Oh? But aren't you on paid leave? I'm pretty sure that's what I've been told."

Rouxls shot him a suspicious look. "..And where didst thou heareth that?"

"Jevil told me last night."

Upon hearing the imp's name, Rouxls grimaced. "I should've known. *sigh*.....Where is he anyhow?" He peered back over towards the door as if to look for said gremlin, and also noticed it had stopped raining.

"He left for work. He works for Lancer now I believe, and won't be back for another good few hours. Don't worry, he promised to look after the boy."

Rouxls huffed. "That'll be the day. I thank thee for the returned wares, but you must leave. I'm very busy as it is."

Seam chuckled again. "Oh, come now. What's the point of vacation if you don't relax? Or not. Doesn't involve me now does it? Ahaha." Rouxls huffed and turned away again. But he paused when a paw was held out to him. "Now come friend. I mean no ill will. Let us start over."

Rouxls stared at the smiling cat for a good few seconds before slowly looking down at the extended paw. It didn't look like it was threatening in the slightest position, but he wasn't sure at all. Seam stayed still and just as he was about to put his paw away, the blue man slowly reached his own hand out to the paw. Seam gladly took it in his own and gave it a couple shakes.

"Ahaha. It's nice to meet you fri-"

Rouxls let out a squeak as a pulsation ripped through their bodies and simaltaniously pulled his hand away from the equally startled cat, who's fur puffed up and his eye widened at the sudden feeling. Rouxls's soul thumped hard against his chest to the point he thought it was going to burst from his chest, then as suddenly as it came it left and his soul slowed down and his lungs heaved out. The two just stood there as the effects wore off and slowly looked at each other. Seam was the first to move as he slowly looked down at his paw, his button eye spinning. He stared at his paw for a moment before closing it and giving Rouxls a wide eyes look.

Rouxls gave a small cough as he reached up to straighten the hair poking up on his head. "S-Stupid static cling. I must've forgotten some dust rabbicks on mine person. Art thou-"

"I-.....Didn't think I'd live to see this event....Aheh..ahahaha." He slowly trailed his eye back at the confused man in front of him with an unsure smile upon his face. "Well....This is interesting news to be sure."

Rouxls rose a brow. "What does thou meaneth? A shock of static tis nay new. Though I nay felt one this powerful-"

"Jevil is in for a surprise it seems." He chuckled a little more much to the confusion of Rouxls who rose his brow further. "He certainly won't appreciate having his soulmate's soul atatched to my own."

Rouxls just stared blankly at the cat, but when he reached his paw back out and grabbed his shoulder,he was just about to ask what he was doing when a thump from within his chest shut up any thing he would've said. He stared at nothing for a moment but blinked and looked down at his own chest. Underneath his suit he could faintly make out a soft blue light that softly pulsated within his chest, sending small pulse waves throughout his being. He slowly looked back to Seam who gave the same patient smile on his face.....A light coming from his own chest.

"I think things are going to be a bit hard to explain when Jevil returns. Ahahaha." Seam contined to give the frozen duke a smile, but his smile faded when he felt Rouxls slightly shake under his grip, "Hey. Are you alright there?"

Rouxls didn't answer. Instead his face turned a pale blue like he'd just seen a ghost, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. His body went limp and he fell to the side. The last thing he saw was Seam diving hard left towards his falling body as black enveloped his vision.

=================================================================================

"His hair is so shiny! Can I keep it?"

"No, Mak. I think he's had enough to worry about right now."

"Is he going to be ok? He looks dead. Can I have his shiny neckless if he's dead?"

"*sigh* No, Mak. That's his, and I think he's been through enough stress for the past few da- What are you doing?!"

"Trying to put this bandaid on his face? It looks like he fell on a sharp rock."

"That's a scar! The Healing Hathy already comfirmed that when I took him to see her."

.....What the-?

He groaned and turned his head. The first thing he felt was a soft but scratchy surface hugging his entire body and some kind of force on his chest making him heave a little from the weight.

"Look. He's not dead!....Unless he's undead! Should we get silver bullets?"

"You've been reading lightner stories too much. Now off of him."

He felt the weight lifted from his chest and groaned, his body shifting. His body wasn't in any pain thankfully but he strangely felt less tired than before he woke up before....In fact, he was starting to think that was all a dream. Of course Jevil had sat upon his chest and the two had invited themselves in. Again. But he didn't remember his bed being scratchy? His eyes slowly blinked open. The first he saw were two giant eyes who blinked at him and a black nose that sniffed at his face- He screamed a high pitched squeal which startled the furry thing into jumping back before baring it's fangs at him and giving a small hiss of their own. That thing definitely wasn't Jevil. He shot up and backed away from crazy animal against the soft surface.

"WHAT THY FUCKETH?!"

"MAK!" Their heads turned to a very familiar cat as he scowled at the animal. "Don't scare him. What are you doing, trying to give him a soul attack?"

The animal pointed a paw at him. "He started it!"

Seam sighed before turning towards Rouxls with a softer smile. "Hey, there friend. Are you feeling better?"

Rouxls turned his gaze around the area he was in with a wild look. Stone walls and ceilings held similar things to his bedroom....minus the fireplace to his right and the old looking couch he was apparently sitting upon. His soul still thumped within his chest

"...W-Where-?"

"You're in my sheap." The cat smiled at him from across the couch. "You're alright."

"W-What...What happened?"

"You just fainted. I had you checked out by a healer, she said you'd be fine. I was worried you had a soul attack or something."

"I-I..I may not be in the best condition, b-but I shan't have any medical issues of that sort!," he retorted before finally looking at the animal thing. The small thing was looking up at him and blinked a couple times. It looked a lot like a cat if it wasn't for the shape of it's tail and the wings attatched to it's back. He stared at it for a few seconds before pointing, "And what tis this?"

"Oh?" Seam turned to the child and patted the top of it's head. "This is Mak. They're harmless, don't worry. But they should really not scare guests." The child giggled and just shrugged before looking back at Rouxls.

"You're really shiny! Came I have some of your sparkles?" Their paw delicately reached up to him and made a grabby hand movement at his face, like how Lancer would whenever he wanted attention or to be picked up.

Rouxls grimaced and leaned away. He might've thought it was cute if this wild child hadn't scared him half to dust. Seam must've noticed because he gently removed their hand with a chuckle.

"They like shiny things. But they're a good child I promise."

Rouxls didn't look convinced. "How long was I asleep?"

"Almost three hours. Not very long to be honest. Are you feeling better?"

"I-....I'm fine." He quickly threw his legs over the side of the couch and stood up. he wobbled a little bit from his legs feeling like jello, Seam reached out a hand as to help, but Rouxls waved his hand away and reached down to straighten himself up. "I just....I think tis best I teketh mine leave-"

"I don't think that'd be a good idea." Seam gave him a concerned look. "After fainting like that, you're probably going to be weak for a bit. What if you fall again?"

"N-Nay! I haveth non time to delay! I-I'm feeling fine-" His stomach gave off another loud growl and he winced from the empty feeling coursing through his body at that very moment. "....I'm still fine."

"I think you need to sit down and rest a moment before you faint again of exhaustion. You seem to have a bad habit of pushing yourself, friend."

"HA! Likest thou couldst do anything to makest me do anything!"

A small silence.

"...Ahaha. Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I am! I have more authority than thoust could comprehend." He turned to the side. "I will taketh mine leave now!"

"Alright. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to use force."

"What doth thou-"

He squealed as a large paw grabbed the backside of his shirt and lifted him up from the floor. He heard a familiar chuckle and turned his face to the amused looking cat. He immediately went dark blue in the face and reached his hands up to try and grabbed at the large paw holding him up to no avail, his feet comically kicking at nothing in particular.

"L-L-Leteth me go this instant!," he squeaked out making Seam chuckle, "Tis NAY funny!"

"My, my. You certainly are a feisty one, aren't you?" He gently swung the flailing and squeaking duke over the coffee table and closer to his soft body. Using his other hand, he grabbed one of Rouxls's legs before hoisting him up.

Rouxls made angry sputtering noises as he was forced into being held in the bridal position of the larger cat. His face went completely white from sheer embarrassment and Seam chuckled again at his flustered state. He continued to kick out and try to pry the strong paws off of himself as Seam shuffled behind the coffee table and eventually took a seat onto the couch. Rouxls made an attempt to push himself off his lap as he sat down but unfortunately Seam's way of cradling him like a child prevented any escape. He felt his side be pressed further into the soft, warm body of the stuffed cat as he leaned back, sighing into the softness of the couch. He froze up for a few seconds, soul thumping, and face as pale blue as a frozen blueberry.

"W-What doth though t-thinketh you're doing?!," he managed to squeak out.

Seam let out a couple laughs before patting Rouxls's back. "Well, you did leave me with no choice. I could get into trouble if you ended up passing out from exhaustion or starvation. And I wouldn't be a good person, would I?"

"W-What happened to it being 'none of thou's business'?!"

"When the person who's business involves me directly of course. And you did faint because of the whole soul sparking thing-"

"THAT WASN'T A DREAM?!"

Seam laughed again as Rouxls gave a high whine of flustered feelings. "'Fraid not."

"H-Holy hell!.....Oh no..." His eyes shrunk in size as one thought shot through his head. Swirling pink heart attacks shooting behind his retnas. ".....It's going to kill me....IT'S GOING TO KILL ME!! I AMST GOING TO DIE WHEN HE FINDS OUT!!"

The sudden change in tone from flustered and angry to utterly terrified alerted the two to his sudden fear. The two animals exchanged a look before looking back to the duke who had launched his hands up to clutch at his head and his body shrinking down into Seam's soft body. Seam reached a paw to his back and gave him an unsure pat before asking-

"Who's going to harm you-?"

"T-That.....H-He-"

"You mean Jevil?"

Rouxls winced when he said the imp's name, confirming Seam's thoughts. He hummed before looking towards the small child who looked more confused than concerned. "....What's he talking about?"

"He's just scared of something....Uh- Why don't you get him something to eat?...That's actually edible."

"Oh. Alright."

The small bat thing turned around and scampered it's way out of the room towards the store front, leaving the too males. Alone. Seam stayed quiet and just silently rubbed the other man's back until his breathing and soul thumping reduced to a minimum. They sat in a few minutes in total silence before the dared to ask-

"Are you ok now?," his voice was like a parent talking to a scared child. Rouxls nodded. Seam hesitated. "Do you...think you can talk?" He nodded again. "Ok..Good, good....Do you...think you can tell me why you're scared of him?"

Silence.

"....Ok. Do you want to talk about it?"

"....I a-amst not...scared of him."

Seam had to take a moment to process what Rouxls had just said for a moment. But he blinked in confusion. "Why then..do you think he would harm you?"

Silence.

".....n-not him....s-stupid emotions.."

".....You're afraid of your emotions?" His silence answered his question.

They sat there in silence for a moment, as Seam seemed to piece together something in his head. Taking it slower, weird behavior, all the statue imitations, fainting......Good god what happened to end up like this?

"....I...w-will best al-...alright."

His sudden answer spooked Seam a bit, but the cat stayed calm for his sake and continued to rub his back. "Are you sure? If...If you need me to talk to Jevil, I most certainly will."

Rouxls was silent for a moment. "...No...My p-person...M-Mine rules...I've suffered worst."

Seam wasn't honestly sure how to feel about this whole situation, but decided it was best to roll with it for the moment. Patting Rouxls back and doing his best to comfort him. He sorta suspected Jevil knowing some of this problem now that he thought of the story he told him about yesterday's events with him getting that 'relaxing' leave, but he couldn't be sure just yet. He'd have to wait until he came back to ask anything.

[tothestanders]

Trading Places

Summary:

"Why’d you harass me about wanting to play video games instead of talking to my friend? You don’t care about that sort of thing.”

Remus’s grin widened.

“Now Thomas, maybe Remus is turning over a new leaf. In that case, we should celebrate! How about we throw a bunch of Babybel cheese at people’s cars so the wax stains them red in pretty polka dots!

”Thomas stared at Patton. “…That’s vandalism. You want me to vandalize people’s cars?"

Or, Patton and Remus swap roles. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Warnings: canon-typical Remus language

Read on AO3 here

Thomas’s back ached from being hunched over so long, fingers half numb from hours of button pressing. Thomas hardly noticed. He was only one level away from meeting the final Boss. Weeks of gameplay had been leading up to this moment. All the lost sleep and forgotten meals were about to pay off in the greatest, grandest, most magnificent battle of all time –

Something ringing cut through Thomas’s laser focus, jolting him back to the real world. He frantically groped for the ‘pause’ button before tearing his eyes away to read the caller ID on his phone. A friend from community theater. Thomas was disappointed for a moment that it wasn’t just ignorable spam, then immediately felt guilty. He quickly accepted the call.

“Hey man, what’s up?” he spoke into the phone. “Oh! Free to talk right now?” Thomas glanced longingly at the paused video game. “Um, well…”

“Are you really gonna hang up on your friend for a video game? Wow, Thomas, I didn’t realize you were even more evil than I am.”

Thomas nearly threw his phone in surprise. Next to him on the sofa suddenly sat the Duke, his face shifting between maudlin disappointment and a suppressed grin.

“What the heck, man! Why you gotta pop up in my blind spot like that?” Thomas yelled, putting the phone on mute while noises of confusion came through the speaker.

“Why you gotta be a shitty friend?” Remus replied without missing a beat. “What if they’re in crisis? What if their family just disowned them? What if they lost their job and can’t afford rent or food and have nowhere to go and you were their last option for help and now they’re going to spend the night on the streets and get mugged and then murdered and so eviscerated that they won’t be able to identify the body and he’ll be tossed into a mass grave where he’ll get devoured by worms at age thirty…”

“Oh my God, stop!” Thomas tried to command, to no avail.

“…and then he’ll turn into a zombie with his mind trapped in his rotting brain and forced to watch as his body kills people…”

“I hope your friend is doing all right!” Thomas whirled around to see Patton sitting on his other side, expression sympathetic. He didn’t seem to notice that Remus was there or still talking. Or maybe he was just ignoring him.

“Oh, thank God, Patton. Do you think it’s okay for me to play my video game instead of talking? I’m just so close to the boss battle and I really wanna finish it.”

“Well, I think your pal sounded fine, but better safe than sorry. How about you can finish your game, but first we say something to cheer him up just in case?”

“…and once all his loved ones have been eaten alive his zombie brain will come back to life and have to live with the horror of what he’s done…”

Desperate to get the Duke’s morbid monologue to stop, Thomas rushed to agree. “Yeah, sure. Any ideas?”

“Oh, you know I’ve always got something up my sleeve. A dad joke is never a bad joke!” He paused a second to think. “What has two butts and kills people? An assassin!”

Without a second thought, Thomas lifted the phone back to his face, unmuted it, and repeated the joke. He snorted at his own punchline, mentally congratulating himself on the pun. Then realization set in. Patton seemed to have the same realization, judging by the look of self-directed horror on his face.

The sound of laughter came through the phone. “Sorry, that was kind of a silly one. But glad you liked it,” Thomas said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, I was kinda in the middle of something when you called, but I’d love to catch up later tonight if that works for you?” His friend assured him it was no problem, and after setting up a time to chat later, they hung up.

“What the heck was that?” Thomas said.

“Great teamwork!” Remus chimed, raising a hand to high-five Patton across Thomas’s body. Patton eyed it nervously, then lightly tapped the palm. Then not so subtly wiped his hand on his pants.

“Sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to use potty language,” Patton said, shaking his head. “A dad’s gotta set a good example for his kids! Not my best work, huh?”

“Yeah, that was weird,” Thomas said. “But mostly I meant Remus. Why’d you harass me about wanting to play video games instead of talking to my friend? You don’t care about that sort of thing.”

Remus’s grin widened.

“Now Thomas, maybe Remus is turning over a new leaf. In that case, we should celebrate! How about we throw a bunch of Babybel cheese at people’s cars so the wax stains them red in pretty polka dots!”

Thomas stared at Patton. “…That’s vandalism. You want me to vandalize people’s cars? And wouldn’t that probably make dents and break the windows?”

Patton’s face fell into a look of consternation. “Oh, yes, sorry. That would be very inconsiderate. Definitely don’t do that, Thomas. Okay, instead, we can celebrate with food! I think we’ve got eggs, pickles, maple syrup, and coffee in the kitchen. Sounds like the ingredients for a yummy soup.”

“Soup?” Thomas repeated in disbelief.

Patton tilted his head. “Yeah, soup. You know, a liquid you can eat! We could add cinnamon too if you want.”

“I love it, Patton! Look who’s finally not being such a fuddy-daddy,” Remus said, drumming his fingers against his cheek.

Thomas looked rapidly between the two of them. “Okay, is someone going to explain what’s going on here or am I just gonna stay confused?”

“You could’ve skipped all the confusion in the first place if you’d just listened to me earlier. I knew you liked boys by age 6!” Remus answered, and Thomas groaned. But then the Duke let out a long, dramatic sigh and stood, spreading his arms wide. “All right, killjoy. I swapped us, of course!”

“What? You can’t do that!” Patton reprimanded. “You switch back with Thomas right now, mister! This is Thomas Sanders Sides, not Remus Sanders Sides.”

Remus blinked. “Uh, right. No. I swapped our roles, Patton.”

Patton’s eyes widened with realization. “Ohhh. Well that’s much better.” He nodded to himself. Then, “Hey! You switch us back right now, mister!”

“Oopsie doodles, no can doozies. This is way too much fun! Now, Thomas, about your content.” Remus turned to face Thomas, a manic gleam in his eyes. “You really love to coddle your viewers, huh? Do you think they can tell? Do you think they click on your channel and get whacked in the face with the patronizing ooey gooey BS you sprinkle over their dainty little heads? They’re probably devastated you don’t trust them to be able to handle anything more meaningful and substantial than the trite twaddle you call videos.”

Remus pushed up his cheeks with his fists, lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout. “Aw, poor babies. Their favorite Youtube star thinks nothing of them. That’s gotta cut like a machete to the heart.”

“Okay! Got it,” Thomas said. “So what I’m hearing is you’re my morality now?” Horror rose in his throat. “And Patton is my bad creativity?” Remus nodded excitedly. Patton looked nauseous. “Why would you do that?” Thomas asked, desperate.

“Oh, it’s simple. Dear Virgie didn’t like the bloody death threat I left on his wall earlier. Talk about not being able to take a joke, amirite?” Patton grimaced at that idea of a ‘joke.’ “Anyway, then he went off about how I’ll” – Remus adopted a mocking, bored tone to accompany his air quotes – “‘never be an important Side’ because I ‘don’t know the difference between right and wrong.’ Blah, blah, blah. But that was just too good of a challenge to pass up!”

“Too good of a challenge…so you’re trying to prove Virgil wrong? By being my morality? ” Thomas clarified in dismay.

“Yep! And proving that I could gain a whole lotta influence real quick if I wanted. Good little Thomas would never repress his moral drive.” Remus smiled sweetly at him.

“Sure, okay. This is not happening.” Thomas turned to Patton. “You’re my real morality. Can’t you, like, take your job back? Please?”

“Afraid not,” the Duke answered for him in a voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Where do you think your Sides comes from, Thomas? We’re figments of your imagination, after all.”

Thomas rested his face in his hand, exhausted by the whole situation. “I’m not following.”

“It’s easy. Imagination is part of creativity.” He did a mirror of Roman’s typical arm flourish at the mention of his function. “Therefore, your creativity created your Sides and is the only thing that can change them as it pleases. As I please.”

“Hold on, does that mean you and Roman are, like, literally everyone else’s dads?” Thomas asked.

“Hey now, kiddo. Don’t go stealing my kids out from under me,” Patton said, pointing a stern finger.

“Don’t worry, I’m a deadbeat dad!” Remus replied. Then his expression turned thoughtful. It was the most terrifying thing Thomas had ever seen. “Huh, isn’t it interesting that we’re figments of your imagination but also kinda not? I mean, we’ve got thoughts and feelings of our own. Yet our whole existence revolves around you.” Thomas braced, not sure where this was going but sure it wasn’t anywhere good. “You call all the shots about what we do, and if one of us wants to do something? Well, better pimp yourself out to get on the Big Daddy’s good side –”

“What?!”

“– and hope he graciously agrees. No autonomy for us. Just wasting away in your brain while you fuck around with the body. Male privilege? Please, let’s talk corporeal privilege, Thomas.”

Remus’s tone stayed casual, gaze idly wandering as he thought aloud. But the wave of guilt that came with his words was enough to nearly knock Thomas over, and made his eyes sting with tears. The Duke actually had a point. Was Thomas a terrible person? Oh, God. Was he abusing his Sides?

“Okay, kiddo.” Patton said, holding out his hands in a pacifying gesture. “That’s some pretty heavy stuff. Let’s not get carried away, all right? Don’t worry Thomas, we love being part of your amazing head!”

“Did someone say amazing head? I was wondering when you’d ask –”

Thomas closed his eyes. He could not deal with this. His Morality was suggesting crime, his Bad Creativity was giving him intrusive guilt, except all that was actually the other way around, now. Too much chaos, too many moral crises jam packed into ten minutes, too much Remus. Frankly, at this point he was just surprised Virgil hadn’t popped up to yell at him yet. Thomas was considering just getting up and walking away, irrationally hoping that no one would follow, when he remembered something.

“Wait a second. You said only Creativity could switch you guys back, right?”

“Yeppers! And don’t bother calling Roman, he’s still black and blue from reading Youtube comments earlier,” Remus replied cheerfully. Thomas made a mental note to check on Roman once all this was done.

“But you switched roles with Patton,” he continued, frown sliding into a sly smile. “Which means that Patton is now my Creativity – well, part of it, anyway. Which means he can switch you back!” Thomas turned eagerly to his father figure figment.

“Ah, I’m not so sure about that, kiddo.” Patton’s eyes were wide as saucers. “What if tapping into a” – his voice fell to a whisper – “dark power turns me evil. Like Ursula from A Little Mermaid.”

“Is that Ursula’s backstory?” Thomas asked curiously.

“No, actually! The real one is much better,” Remus said. “She almost got burned alive when her village figured out she was part octopus. Good thing her dear brother rescued her. Oh, except he thought she was a monster too, so he banished her to the cesspit of the sea.” Remus’s enthusiastic tone only made his darkened expression the more unnerving.

Thomas shifted uneasily. Once again, he was reminded just how much he didn’t know about what went on in his own head. But then again, Remus had told him, hadn’t he?

The unloved brother from the Genesis.

He began to spiral back down Remus’s guilt trip about responsibility to his Sides. Thankfully his thoughts were interrupted by Patton. “Aw, poor thing! People can be meaner than a bully burning a baby bunny in a Satanic ritual.” What? “Uh, I mean! A stuffed bunny. Anyway, I hope Ursula is okay now.”

“Nope, she died,” Remus informed him. Patton’s lip started to wobble.

“So that’s good news!” Thomas butted in before things could get any more derailed. He’d have time later to worry about sibling rivalry and possible injustice among figments of his imagination. “I mean, Ursula didn’t turn evil from using dark magic. So Patton has nothing to worry about. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please, I need my good old morality back. No one else can beat the top pop.” Thomas smiled at the giggle that got.

“Oh, all right. I’ll give it the old college try.”

Thomas sighed in relief and watched as Patton squeezed his eyes and fists tight, brow furrowing in intense concentration. A moment later he cracked an eye open. “Did it work?”

“I don’t know, tell a joke!” Thomas urged.

“Um…oh! Why can’t a nose be twelve inches long? Because then it’d be a foot!”

Thomas groaned, but he was smiling. Finally, his Sides were back to normal.

“Or my dick!” Remus chirped.

Yeah, normal. The thought was far fonder than it had any right to be.

“See, Patton? There was nothing to worry about. No spooky magical corruption – hey what’s up with your logo?” Thomas pointed at the heart on Patton’s shirt. It had turned upside down, its shape now looking a lot like…well.

Remus gasped in delight. “Awesome! Taking style inspiration from your favorite Creativity, I see.”

“You’re not my favorite Creativity,” Patton said, and Thomas couldn’t help his flinch. But then, “I can’t play favorites with my kids! You’re all perfect just the way you are.”

The side-eye Remus gave Patton was truly impressive. “Perfect, huh? Even when I do this?” Suddenly he was holding what looked kinda like a bouquet of pale, bloody flowers. Then Thomas spotted the fingernails. He watched as the entire handful of severed fingers slid down Remus’s throat and disappeared with a loud slurp.

“Of course!” Patton replied, seemingly unfazed. “No matter what you do, you’re still famILY.”

Okay, that was weird. Patton, not bothered by that sickening gesture? But wait a second – was it sickening? Strangely enough, Thomas found he wasn’t all that bothered by it either. Like some of his aversion to Remus had faded.

The suspicious look didn’t leave Remus’s face, but something about him seemed…calmer, than it had a minute ago. Softer.

Patton looked back at his shirt with a puzzled expression. “That’s funny, I could’ve sworn the heart was right-side up. Maybe I need new glasses!”

“I wouldn’t call that a heart anymore. It’s totally a pair of dingle-dangles.”

“A what?” Thomas said, unable to believe the Duke had actually used a euphemism. And a downright cutesy one, at that. His gaze fell to Remus’s belt.

“My eyes are up here, you saucy minx. And here,” Remus added, pointing to the eyeball on his shoulder.

“No, look,” Thomas said, pointing to the logo on the belt buckle. The crescent moon at the top seemed to have morphed into a smiley face.

Thomas head swiveled between the smiley face and the – uh, inverted heart – several times. He thought back to what Patton had been worried about. Lasting effects of the role reversal. Oh no.

Patton and Remus, both still engrossed by their changed logos, seemed to have the same thought. In voices heavy with resignation, all three of them spoke at the same time.

“Aw, butts.”

[batboysandgirls]

Tim Drake x Reader - Explosions And Other Saturday Morning Activities - PART 4 - FINALE!

PART ONE HERE, PART TWO HERE, and PART THREE HERE! Title: Explosions And Other Saturday Morning Activities - PART 3 Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You’ve made it out of Black Mask’s lair alive, and it’s time for you to have dinner with the batclan, including Bruce Wayne himself (who you still can hardly believe is Batman).  After the dinner, you know you’ll have to decide to make your move with Tim... or let him go.  But you’re not one to give up easily! Notes: Canon-typical descriptions of violence and injuries. Words: 5.4k Taglist:  @silentwhispofhope, @ashfromthesol, @oh-no-my-ravioli, @katelynkargol, @rhymeswithrason, @grincheveryday, @ivysfaves, @hanliz2211

You awoke in a very nice bed that was not your own.  You should be terrified, but the well of terror in your heart was empty.  Now, you were just tired.

You slowly sat up.  You were wearing a silk white nightgown, which might be the softest thing you’ve ever worn.  You were also laying a king sized bed, which might be the first time you’ve ever had a king sized bed to yourself.  It was a large bedroom, sparsely decorated.  There was an empty desk, a mostly empty bookshelf, and a dresser.  The dresser was against the far wall, and you could see your clothes folded and washed on top of it.  To your left, there was a set of glass doors leading to a balcony.  They let in an enormous amount of light, making the whole room bright.  It almost seemed like a dream, although you were pretty sure you were awake.

Looking around, nothing had clicked for you as to where you were, but, somehow, you felt pretty safe.  At this point, if someone was going to kill you, they probably would have succeeded.

You swung your legs over the size of the bed, and there was your phone on a side table.  You almost reached to check your messages, but you didn’t.  Instead, you walked out to the balcony.  The wind blew gently, and you took in the view of beautiful gardens.  You didn’t seem Gotham, and you couldn’t even hear it… had to be pretty far out from the city.

Huh.  Maybe this was a dream.  Or, since you were all in white, was it… no.  No, no, no.

(You probably weren’t dead!  You’d know!  Right?  You’d know if this was the afterlife… right?)

You turned back to the inside, and there was Tim standing in the doorway.  OH!  Thank goodness.  Tim was here… okay, so this must be Wayne Manor.  Pretty house, pretty gardens, way outside of the city proper.  Made some sense.  Still not sure how you got here, but that wasn’t much of a concern.

(You weren’t dead!  Hooray!)

“Tim,” you said, your voice coming out a little soft and a little hoarse.

“How are you feeling?  I was afraid you’d wake up confused about where you were.”  He walked over next to you, and you smiled.

“I first thought this all might be a dream.  Then, I thought I might be dead and this is what happens after.”

Tim raised his eyebrows, alarm on his face, and you laughed.

“But I saw you and thought—that’s right, Tim lives in a mansion outside of Gotham.  I’m alive.”  Tim looked like he was about to apologize, and you shook your head.  “No, no.  That’s just how my brain works.  I assume you guys took me back with you after you stopped Black Mask?”

“Yeah.  They were going to drop you at your apartment unconscious.  You passed out from exhaustion and stress apparently.  But I said you were my girlfriend, and they let me and Bruce take you home with us.”

“Do you think the police officers had read the Buzzfeed article?”

Tim smiled.  “Well, one officer giggled as I explained so I think she might have.”

“Our accidental celebrity relationship coming in handy, for once.”

“For once.”

The conversation lulled, and you found yourself gazing at Tim unabashedly.  He was looking out over the back gardens, thoughtfully.  He was so handsome, it was really unfair.  All you wanted to do was to have him hold you, to run your hand through his hair, to tell him how incredible he is.  But it wasn’t really the time.  And though you were pretty sure Tim did like you a tad, you weren’t sure if he was thinking of anything serious.  Fate had drawn you together once, and you’d been tangled together since then.

You were hoping the Black Mask incident would be the last of your brushes with Gotham’s heroes and villains, but your heart ached a bit at the odds that meant this would be the last of your brushes with one Tim Drake.  Would Tim really be interested in a random intern who had a few freakish experiences that drew you closer to him?  Would he have any free time to dedicate to a girlfriend totally divorced from his duties helping run Wayne Enterprises and from crime fighting?  Probably not…

For now, though, you took in Tim standing before you.  You let that be enough.

Tim finally turned to you.

“Well, I know Alfred’s made an amazing brunch for you.  You should eat something.  Then, you can just relax until we have dinner tonight.”

Dinner.  Right.  Dinner where Bruce Wayne, Batman, which is still weird, will tell you not to reveal the whole Batfamily��s secret identities and probably terrify you in the process.  You should be worrying about that.  Instead, you’re caught on something else.

“Alfred?”

“Alfred is the family butler, but he’s more than just that.  He is family.”

You nodded and slowly realized how hungry you were.  “Does he, um.  Does he make good pancakes?”

Tim grinned from ear to ear.  “The best.”

✹ ✹

“Maybe I was wrong earlier,” you said, mouth full of chocolate chip pancake, “Maybe I did actually die and this is some sort of heaven.”

“Wait, you thought you died?” asked Dick Grayson, eldest Wayne child and also Nightwing.  Of all the superhero identity matching you’d done in your head, that was a no brainer.  The butts were basically identical.

“A death joke!  She’ll fit right in,” Jason said.  Jason Todd, second Wayne child, also the Red Hood.  Just from this pancake brunch, he quickly was becoming your favorite after Tim.

(You weren’t sure what he meant by the death joke, but you smiled anyway.  That seemed to make him even more on your side.)

The youngest child, Damian, didn’t say anything to you, other than a few displeased huffs.  Odds were he was Robin.

Cassandra, who was around Tim’s age to your understanding, didn’t say much either to you, but her eyes and smiles were endlessly kind.  You weren’t sure of her identity… maybe she was just a normal person.  That would be lovely.

(Tim told you that Duke, another brother a couple years younger than him, was out “on patrol,” which meant that he was probably the Signal.  The lone daytime bat.  Wild.)

Bruce Wayne did not appear at brunch, but that was probably for the best.  You needed to work up the emotional strength to face Batman’s scrutiny tonight.

Alfred was working on that by fueling you with pancakes and calling you “Miss _____.”  You called him “Mr. Pennyworth,” and he kind of seemed offended by the formality—but you didn’t give in.

Tim was definitely watching you the whole meal, amused and a little pleased.  It was nice to know someone was paying attention to you, and nicer still to be able to tell they liked what they saw.  You regaled the group with a humorous retelling of the Wayne Tower accident, as well as some weird encounters you’d had as an intern.

After brunch, you returned to the room you’d been in, getting dressed in your somewhat tattered clothes from the previous evening.  You looked in the mirror, a little disappointed.

No, it wasn’t any insecurity about your body.  You thought you looked pretty good, generally speaking. It was just that you looked more put together in the nightgown these people provided than in your own clothes.  There were a lot of holes and tears in the fabrics from the glass exploding onto you.  You hadn’t gone ham on your outfit with a pair of scissors for fun, but it kinda seemed that way.

Someone knocked at the door.  You poked your head out and saw Cassandra standing there, holding a box.

“Hello,” you said, poking your head out.

“Hi,” she said, before handing it over to you.  “Alfred made these.  Adjusted my old things.  Should fit.”

“Oh!  Thank you!  Currently, my clothes are a bit, uh, compromised.”

Cass just smiled with a nod and vanished down the hall.  You put on the clothes and were delighted they fit perfectly.  Did Alfred take your measurements when you were brought to Wayne Manor?  That was a little weird, but very helpful.  It was just a simple black sweater and a pair of jeans.  No holes or rips or tears!  And you looked good.  Perfect.  You wanted to look nice for this dinner, so you could come across as professional.  Someone to be trusted with the batfamily’s secret identities.

(Not for Tim.  No, certainly not to look good for Tim.  Mhmmm.  Nope.)

You spent the following few hours getting a tour of the Manor from Tim, who did compliment your outfit, which was not notable or anything, and just hanging out with him and his siblings playing Scrabble.  The tour was cool, and Tim only blanched once when you asked where they kept all the bat stuff.

(“Um, Bruce didn’t kill me for having you find out my identity, but if I showed you the Batcave, he’s definitely freak.”

“So it’s a cave?  Must be under the house then. That’s pretty sweet.”

“...”

“Is that aspect a secret?”

“Just don’t tell him you know that.”)

As you walked the Manor and played in a Scrabble tournament with the Wayne children, your eyes kept meeting Tim’s.  You would both look away, but it was never long before you found the other’s gaze again.  It made your heart weirdly full but also made you weirdly nervous.

(This dinner is the last thing directly tying you to Tim.  It’s why you got lunch and the whole dating rumor started.  After Bruce Wayne gets his say with you, Tim doesn’t have a reason to reach out to you.  You could reach out to him, start something more, but does he want that?  That look when his bright blue eyes find yours… you hope it’s not wishful thinking to imagine he wants that.)

Duke showed up midway through the Scrabble tournament, but he got to join in.

“It’s round-robin style,” Tim explained as he spelled out l-u-n-a-r off your r-a-t-i-o, “You can join in with whoever finishes next.”

“Only Dick and I made jokes about the fact Robin is literally in the name of the playstyle, if you’d like to immediately hop on that train while you wait,” you added.

Duke laughed at that, and you definitely liked this kid, too.  Honestly, other than Damian being a little stuffy, this strange hodge-podge superhero family was quite wonderful.

Tim and Jason won the tournament, tied for most wins.  Then Damian, then you, then Duke, then Dick, and then Cass.

“Words are hard,” Cass concluded as you all packed up the boards, and you couldn’t agree more.

“Dinner is about to be served,” Alfred said, stopping in the doorway. “If you all would please head to the dining room.”

You felt yourself tense up a bit at that announcement, and, suddenly, Tim was right next to you.  He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“It’s going to be fine.  Our secret identities are much less secret than Bruce wants, but there’s not much he can do about you knowing.”

(You felt more tense about this dinner being over and having no excuses to see Tim than the actual meal itself.  But that’d be a bit odd to tell him that, probably.)

✹ ✹

Dinner began uncomfortably normally.  After you and the rest of the batkids sat down, Bruce Wayne entered and sat at the head of the table.  Everyone went quiet as he took his seat, and then he smiled at you.

“Hello, _____.  It’s wonderful to finally meet you.  How are you?”

This was not the “attempt to reveal our identities and we’ll make your life hell” angle you were expecting.

“I’m, um,” you said, “I’m quite well.  I slept great here.”

“I’m glad.  It’s been a stressful week, hasn’t it?”

You found yourself laughing a bit too loud and too long at that.  When you realized everyone was staring at you—

(Facial expressions.  Dick: “oh god, Bruce.” Jason: “lmao.”  Tim: “BRUCE THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.” Cass: “The shirt really does look lovely.” Duke: “Don’t smile, it’s not that funny, don’t do it, Duke.” Damian: “Ugh.”)

—you closed your mouth.

“Um, yes.  Very stressful.  I’m honestly looking forward to doing intern-y stuff again, without my life being threatened.”

“Would you mind reminding me what your internship is like?”

So you began to explain your Wayne Enterprises internship to Bruce Wayne, which was very strange.  He was paying attention as you explained, asking some questions here and there.  Alfred brought out the first course, which was tomato and cheese soup, and, by the time everyone had finished it, you had exhaustively detailed your intern duties.  You snuck a glance over at Tim as Alfred took away your soup bowl and placed down the main entrée, fettuccine alfredo with chicken.  You were afraid he’d look bored or worried, but he had an easy smile on his face, almost like you were a good dream he was having.  That made your heart flutter a bit.

You fiddled with your pasta a moment before looking up to Bruce.

“Mr. Wayne, are we going to talk about the whole Batman thing, or…?”

You could see Tim’s easy smile fade a bit, and the table instantly became a bit more tense.  Bruce’s gaze was a little heavier now, and you held up your hands.

“Look, I don’t want to cause any problems.  I do not want to get involved in what is your little family activity.  I won’t tell anyone your secret identities.  I’m not even sure of Cass’s alter ego, honestly, but the rest of you—my lips are sealed.

“I guess I was thinking this dinner was going to be you grilling me on how important it is to keep all this secret and threatening to, like, pull my life apart if I try to tell someone.

“And I’m glad you haven’t done that!  Don’t get me wrong.  But, uh.  I was a little puzzled,” you finished.

Bruce Wayne put down his utensils.  He didn’t look angry, but he did look firm.

“_____, I want to make it very clear that, while I expect you to keep our vigilantism a secret, I invited you to dinner primarily as thanks for your help at Wayne Tower.  My only plan to mention keeping our identities a secret was to take you aside before you left, after dinner, and remind you of that.  I would not threaten you or your life in any way.”

“Oh.  Right...” was all you managed before looking sheepishly at your fettuccine.  You felt like the limp noodles before you.)

“I understand why you thought that.  The safety of my family is more important to me than any secret identity.  We’ve lost people before in this line of work—”

(You tried not to think of being eleven years old and hearing Robin had died on the news.  You tried not to remember being, what, fourteen, fifteen, and seeing the report that the female Robin seemed to have died in the huge gang wars.  Most clearly, you tried to not see the footage of the current Robin, his body bloodied, impaled a year or two ago.  Someone draping a blanket over him, and the reporter choking up on camera.  You tried not to think of those images.  You tried, and tried, and failed.)

“—and the most important thing to me in all of this is that Tim is alive because of you.  And I might have lost that fight with Black Mask save Nightwing and Robin coming to help.  We owe you a debt, as does Gotham.”

For the second time in the past twenty four hours, you felt tears well up in your eyes.  You sniffed and wiped them away, chuckling a little to yourself.

“Can I ask you something, Mr. Wayne?”

“Anything.”

You looked at him, his eyes cool like steel.  Set, determined.  “Does it ever go away?” you asked.

“Does what go away?”  Bruce didn’t even look confused or unimpressed at your remark, just ready to answer once he understood.

(You squeezed your hands together.  You could feel the scars from that day at Wayne Tower.  The superficial burns were not fully healed, they probably wouldn’t be for months.  And after you’d have these swaths of skin on your hands that were wrinkled, lighter or darker than the rest of your hands.  And you were going to see those scars every day.  For the rest of your life.)

You hoped he would understand.  “The fear.  The weight.  Of all of it.  Of everything.”

“No.  You can’t stop being afraid, and you can’t ignore the trauma and the pain you’ve experienced,” Bruce said. “But you can, and you will, heal.  You’ll learn to not let fear rule you.  To accept your past and your pain, to know how to think about it and feel about it without being sucked in.”

(You wondered how much he was speaking to your experience, and how much he was speaking for himself.)

“It’s not easy, it’s not linear.  But you’ll get there.  With people who care about you supporting you.  And if you ever need anything, and I truly mean it, anything, you let us know.  Because we will help you too.”

You weren’t sure when you started crying as he spoke, but you were also smiling.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” you said, voice only a little hampered by the tears.

Bruce Wayne smiled at you.  Batman smiled at you.  “Call me Bruce.”

✹ ✹

You were thirteen years old.  You were walking in the Downtown Plaza after getting pizza for dinner with some friends.  The entrance to the Downtown metro stop was maybe two hundred yards away when a storefront across the street exploded, as did a couple other buildings around the Plaza.  Oh.  Oh no.  A bunch of gunmen ran out from it, grabbing people.  There was screaming and dust and smoke and you tripped on something and there’s a man grabbing your arm—

Someone takes your other arm, grabbing your hand, pulling you away from the man as a silver stick (?) came down hard on the man’s shoulder.  You leapt back, a vice grip on the person who pulled you away.  When you turned to see who it was, you almost jumped again.

Robin—the newest Robin, he’d only been spotted a few times—was holding your hand in his left hand, and a bo staff in his right.  The man who’d been after you was collapsed on the ground in front of you, and Robin, without letting go of your hand, tied the guy’s hands.  He collapsed the staff, stuck it on his belt, pulled out some kind of little cord which snapped around the guy’s wrists automatically.  Woah.

“Hold on, I’m getting you out of here.”  He put an arm around your waist, and grabbed a grapple gun from his belt.  You had no idea how he could see, but suddenly you were flying through the cloud of smoke.  Then, you burst out of the smoke and you landed on the edge of this dust cloud.

“T-thank you,” you managed to say.  Robin grinned at you.  He looked like he was almost having fun.  You guessed that made sense—superheroes liking superheroing!

“No problem.  You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m—” you gasped as you saw a silhouette in the smoke, towering over Robin’s figure. “LOOK OUT, ROBIN!”

Robin heeded your warning just in time, ducking down as a man swung a metal bat right where his head had been.  His reach was so wide it passed a few inches in front of your nose.  You leapt back as the man stepped out of the smoke, and you watched as Robin managed to strike him with the bo staff.  However, this guy was huge, must be close to seven feet tall, way bigger than the guy who grabbed you earlier.  He grimaced a bit as he got hit, but it was going to take a lot to knock the guy out.  The tight frown on Robin’s face seemed to confirm that was the case.

Since the giant man was occupied with Robin, you looked around behind you to see if there was anything you might be able to grab to defend yourself.  Or…  well, that seemed incredibly dangerous.

(But this all was pretty dangerous already, wasn’t it?  What’s a little more?)

There was a shattered piece of concrete a few feet away.  A piece of rebar from inside it had broken off.  You grabbed it, and there was the man’s back, turned towards you.  Well, shoot your shot.

You swung the stick right into the man’s groin, and, WOW, that man screamed.  The metal bat clattered to the ground.  Robin did some super fast jabs, and the guy collapsed.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.  “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“I’m very grateful you did,” Robin said, “But I should go rescue other people.”

“Yeah, no—I mean, no, or when—you—that’s probably—uh, yes,” you struggled to get out.  You cleared your throat and tried again.  “Um, yes.  You should.”

(Not that it really mattered, but GOODNESS, could your brain work for this once?  So you don’t sound like an inarticulate rebar-wielding madwoman?  Particularly in front of a very cool superhero?  PLEASE!)

Robin smiled at you throughout your efforts to agree with him, taking his grapple gun out again.

“Wait,” you said, taking his hand once more, “I just—thank you.”

He gave your hand a friendly squeeze.  “Of course.  Thank you.”  Then he let go and grappled off, waving to you as he re-entered the cloud of dust and vanished from your sight.

You felt a little star struck after all that, but you turned away from the cloud and started to walk home.  Life goes on.

✹ ✹

It had been a week since the dinner, and you hadn’t spoken to Tim.  He dropped you home after you finished eating, and you desperately wanted to ask him if he would like to go out sometime or if he wanted to get lunch with you again.  Instead, you said “Thank you” as the two of you exchanged very intense eye contact.  You didn’t see Tim at work, either, which was to be expected…  Different floors and all.

(It didn’t stop a part of you from being disappointed.)

You had tried for an hour to go to sleep and failed.  You mind was too awake.  It was a relatively nice evening out, so, at one in the morning, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and went up to the roof of the intern housing.  The roof door was always open, and you let out an impressed breath as you took in the view.

Old Gotham was one of the prettiest areas in the whole city.  Wayne Tower, the Clocktower, the city cathedral, the GCPD headquarters… all within your sight.  You pulled the blanket a little tighter.  There was the distant wail of sirens, music from a club a few blocks away, but it still seemed quiet somehow.

(You knew why you were up here.  You knew.  Silly, stupid, and deeply sad.)

You didn’t see anybody, didn’t hear anybody distinctly.

(There was a part of you that thought, maybe, he’d happen to be swinging past your building, that Red Robin would stop as soon as he saw you.  He’d rush up to you and hug you tight.  It would be nice.)

You pulled out your phone.  Opened your messages.  Scrolled for a second to find who you were looking for.  It was worth a try, right?

You This is random but

You If you happen to be near Old Gotham tonight, I’m on my apartment’s rooftop

You I’d say I was stargazing or something but we live in a city, and I’m just staring into space and thinking

You Couldn’t sleep

You So if you want a break and some company, I’m around

You watched your screen for a second, eager to see if you could see the little “Tim-Drake Wayne is typing…” message to pop up.  It didn’t, not even after two minutes of staring as if you could will it into existence.  You put your phone away and just looked out again.  In many ways, Gotham was an objectively terrible place to live.  Like, you know, your workplace exploding and being kidnapped.  You’d always dreamt of moving away after college.  To another city.  Maybe Metropolis, New York City, Boston—somewhere.  But moments like these, alone on a Gotham rooftop with the city’s lights all around you, made you want to stay.  It was home, after all.

“Can I join in the art of staring into space?” a voice said from behind you.  You turned around and couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across your face at the sight of Tim.

“Oh, certainly!” you said.  Tim sat down next to you, removing his mask.  He looked tired, weary.

“Long night?” you asked.

“Yup.  Two burglaries, a mugging, and a bomb defusal.  All in an evening’s work,” Tim said, rubbing his eyes.  “You texted at the right time.  I needed a break.”

“Are most nights like this?”

“No.  Well, I don’t always patrol.  Sometimes I sit in the cave and work on a case, or I go out but just look for evidence.  That’s usually a little less hectic.  But when I’m out stopping crime normally, today is pretty par for the course.”

“When do you sleep?” you asked, and you raised your eyebrows as he started to chuckle.

“Sleep is…  not a thing I do with much regularity.  I try to get four hours in between patrol and waking up.  Sometimes, if I’m really exhausted, I take a nap later in the day.  It depends.”

“That’s deeply concerning,” you said in response, and Tim shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.  It’s on my to do list.  ‘Get a normal sleep schedule.’”

“‘Save Gotham (ongoing),’ ‘Get a normal sleep schedule,’ ‘Run a multi-billion dollar corporation…’ What don’t you do, Tim?” you said with a smile.  “My to do list is currently ‘My laundry’ and ‘Intern stuff.’”

“There is one thing I meant to do that I haven’t,” Tim replied.  You waited for about ten seconds, and he didn’t elaborate.  Um.  Weird.

“Uh, what would that be?” you prompted.  Tim looked… nervous?  He was looking at you, and something in his gaze made the whole situation feel a little less goofy and a little more intimate.

“‘Kiss _____,’” he finally said.  “That was the last thing.”

You smiled, and then you leaned in and kissed him.  At first, you just gave him a quick kiss, pulling back to see his slightly surprised but delighted face.  Then, he pulled you closer to him and you kissed again.  And again.  And again.  You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled down your back to your waist.  You were acutely aware of just how strong this boy was when your hands danced across his chest.  He was wearing this armored suit and still.  Like, damn.  You could feel that muscle.  The boy was as kind as he was smart as he was ripped, and he was making out with you.

(This was even better than your fantasies.  Real life is better.  Who knew?)

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, letting out what could only be described as an enormous amount of romantic tension, but eventually, you stopped making out.  You just leaned your head on Tim’s shoulder as he wrapped your blanket around him as well.

If you looked closely, you could see the sixth floor of Wayne Tower across the street, where you’d stumbled upon an unconscious Red Robin about two weeks ago.  That day had ended with you both covered in dirt and blood leaning against each other.  With the stars above and blanket around you both, you had to say you preferred this current arrangement.

“Hey, Tim.”

“Hey, _____.”

“I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you too.”

✹ ✹

bzfd.it/TimWayneGF-proof-twitter PROOF!  Tim Wayne IS Going Out With That Intern, And She Pulls No Punches

Despite repeated denials of a relationship, Tim Drake-Wayne, adopted son of Bruce Wayne and the crush of many young Gothamites, is definitely going out with Wayne Enterprises intern, _____ ______.  In an amusing tweet, ______ confirmed their relationship.

_______ @_______ me: should I say something about the #timistaken now that we’re actually going out tim: why me: because I’ve had so many things I wanted to tweet that involve you but couldn’t bc we weren’t public tim: sure I guess tim: wait what are you going to tweet 4:29 PM  •  7/26/__ 5K Retweets    20.2K Likes

But that’s old news now.  What’s fun to watch is her interactions with Drake-Wayne on Twitter.  Let’s just say she’s enjoying her newfound public presence.

_______ @_______ guys @timdrakewayne keeps a skateboard in his office at wayne enterprises and has used it to get across the street to get lunch four times this week 5:31 PM  •  7/29/__ 7.1K Retweets    30.2K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @_______ the cafe we eat lunch at is 180 feet away from wayne tower. he uses. the skateboard. EVERY   👏 SINGLE 👏 TIME 👏  5:31 PM  •  7/29/__ 896 Retweets    10.2K Likes

_______ @_______ me, frantically googling this morning: “should I be worried or endeared when my boyfriend texts me the title of a book he thinks I’ll like at 3:06 am” 8:02 PM  •  8/3/__ 1.1K Retweets    10.6K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @_______ Both?  Both.  Both is good. 8:02 AM  •  8/3/__ 302 Retweets    3.3K Likes

Tim Drake-Wayne @timdrakewayne I feel like twitter was a kinder place for me before my girlfriend started exposing me on main 11:03 AM  •  8/5/__ 5.1K Retweets    32.6K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  @ me next time 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 6.1K Retweets    15.8K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  also 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 321 Retweets    5.2K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  I love you 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 7.5K Retweets    16.8K Likes

They’ve got a great dynamic.  The couple was spotted seeing the new Star Wars movie together last weekend, which gives this last Tweet quote tweeting _____’s reply of “I love you” an extra special meaning...

Tim Drake-Wayne @timdrakewayne  I know @_______ 

__________ @_______ I love you

11:21 AM  •  8/5/__ 3.4K Retweets    11.6K Likes

You chuckled at the article Emily had sent you.  Buzzfeed was actually amusing for once.  You had no idea how they wrote that article so fast.  It was noon!  The last tweets were from a half hour ago.  Had to hand it to them for immediacy.  You slurped the last noodle of your lunch.  You were eating your at your desk today, some leftover pasta from the spaghetti dinner you’d cooked up for yourself yesterday.  No lunch with Tim today, you were both too busy.  Still, the banter on Twitter had more than made up for it.

Putting away your tupperware in your bag, you checked your phone before finishing your lunch break.  You tapped the home button to see your alerts and smiled softly.

(Oh, how much you loved this boy.)

MESSAGES                11:22 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: I don’t know if you’ve seen my tweet

MESSAGES                11:22 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: but that was a jest because in all seriousness

MESSAGES                11:23 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: I love you

(THAT’S IT!  The end.  This is so long.  I can’t thank you all enough for sticking with this fic, for all the support and lovely messages...!!  I hope you’ve enjoyed this.  If in the future you’d like to see more of my fics, feel free to follow me or maybe if you’d like to be on a general tag list for Tim fics of mine, reply or dm and I can do that too???  I’m new to reader inserts on here but people do seem to do that.  I have an idea for a fic about Tim and a reader who becomes a vigilante… one that involves time travel shenanigans… and some Jason fics too…  ANYWAY!!  I RAMBLE!!  Worse than the reader in this fic’s own thoughts.  Thank you so, SO much for reading!  All my love to you guys ♡ )

[zandracourt]

Steve’s Playlist

Written for @the-sad-hatter’s Weird and Wonderful Challenge. This is the first fic I’ve written with a first person narrator. I tried to write it fully as an inserted reader, but that was just too weird for me, so I tried to make the first person as neutral as I could.

Prompt 26: I Put a Spell on You, Nina Simone

Steve’s Playlist

 Rated T/PG

It’s a few minutes before 1700 and Director Fury shouts my name as I turn off the light in my cubicle. 

“Agent, before you leave, can you take this to Rogers?”

I swallow hard, trying to play it cool. “Captain Rogers?” As if there is another one. Well, there is a Rogers down in accounting but I’m pretty sure the Director has no idea he even exists. He barely knows I exist. Though he did call me by name, so maybe it’s not a good idea to underestimate the Director’s pulse on the plebes of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Yes, that one.” Bingo “Do you know where his office is, on the 3rd floor?” Everyone knew the Captain had chosen an office across from the hanger bay. It faced the interior of the Triskelion, meaning its window looked out mostly on the walls of the other two buildings; nothing but concrete and glass. It was the kind of office some middle manager would have, not the leader of the Avengers. But the Captain liked being close to the hanger, often eating lunch in the Machinists Lounge with the ground crew. 

“I do. Just that then?” I held out my hand towards him.

He passed me a 11”x 17” Manila envelope, about an inch thick. “That’s all. Good night.” He turns away before I can wish him a good night back. 

As I get off the elevator, I can hear the steep trumpet crescendo of the opening stanzas of Sir Duke playing. Normally, the halls are quiet, but someone must be using the after-hours nature of their work to play music. S.H.I.E.L.D. rules prohibit connecting to any streaming services on company computers, so whoever it is has brought in speakers and must be playing it off their personal phone.  Turning down the hall brings the music even louder. 

Music is a world within itself, it’s a language we all understand, with an equal opportunity to sing and dance and clap your hands.

Stevie Wonder’s distinctive rhythm filled my ears, getting louder as I walked.  My mom used to play this song on her Hits of the ‘70’s CD. You can feel it all over. You can feel it all over, people!

By the time I round the corner to the inverted half-circle that makes up the interior of the uniquely shaped office complex, the source of the the music becomes obvious. It’s pretty loud now and I can see him standing at his elevated computer desk, his feet stepping in time to the music as he types that is rather adorable, but I tamp such thoughts down hard. This is Captain America for fucks sake. My knock clearly gives him a slight startle and I feel bad.

“Oh, hey.” He reaches over quickly and taps pause on his phone.

“You don’t have to stop on my account. I was told to bring you this.” I hold the envelope out for him, still standing just outside the doorway like a dumb-ass. It’s just an office, but it’s an Avenger office, which feels more sacred. 

Steve chuckles, “There’s no magic force field there you know. You can come in.”

Crossing the threshold, I can’t help but look around. He keeps his office pretty sparse. There’s a whiteboard on one wall and to the left of his desk, a framed picture of what looks like Benjamin Franklin holding a large balance scale with an old-time baseball player standing on half. Over the top of the players’ images are the words “Brooklyn Dodgers” on the left and “New York Yankees” on the right. Looking closer, you can see it’s from the 1941 World Series.

“Whoa, is that original?” 

He raises his eyebrows and whistles slightly. “Man, I wish. No, it’s a replica poster. But I had the playbook from that series. Went to every game and managed to get signatures on it from everyone but Riggs and Frank. I’d left it at my mom’s place when I enlisted but now it’s lost to time. If it survived, I’m sure it’s in some collector’s wall safe by now. You follow baseball?”

I shrug. “Not like that. I’m always up for a Nationals game if I get a chance. There is an energy watching live games that I enjoy, especially with good friends. But I don’t ever watch on TV.”

He nods. “TV wasn’t an option when I was a kid, just radio. But I agree with you. I still listen to games sometimes, but I don’t like watching them on TV. ‘Course, they aren’t in Brooklyn anymore, so they aren’t my Dodgers anyway.”

I looked down at the only picture on his desk. It’s a plain, pine framed image of three people sitting in what might be a large restaurant booth, but it’s hard to tell. They look happy, and maybe a little drunk. The woman I recognize immediately because her portrait hangs in the main foyer. Margaret Carter, one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D., though she’s much younger in his picture. The other two men I don’t know, though one is kind of familiar. “That’s Director Carter, right?” I ask, pointing at it.

Steve picks it up and hands it to me for a closer look. “Yeah. Spring 1944. Peggy. Howard. Bucky.” He points to each face. “That was taken at this restaurant Howard knew. No matter where we were, he knew the best places to go that hadn’t been bombed or raided and every waitress knew him by name.”

Now I knew why the man in the middle was familiar. His picture hung downstairs next to Director Carter’s, but he looks so good this picture. Now that I’ve made the connection, I can see the Stark resemblance.  

“Woah, Mr. Stark didn’t age real well.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I wanted desperately to take them back. “I’m so sorry. That was...sorry.” 

My stomach clenches and temples throb with embarrassment. Who the fuck am I to criticize his friends? These people are portraits on a wall to me, but to him, they were drinking buddies. Best friends. The heat of my emotions races under my skin and I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye.

“It’s OK.” He takes the photo back, looking at it as he speaks. “Howard was so full of life and playful energy when I knew him. From what I understand, that changed as he got older. This is my memory of him though. And I’m glad I have it.”

His words shift my embarrassment to shame. “I’m glad you have it too. Can I ask...” He places the picture down and looks at me with such kind eyes I continue. “Where did you find it? I mean, it’s more personal than any S.H.I.E.L.D. photo I’ve seen and you said your stuff didn’t seem to stick around.” I was trying to cover my embarrassment with curiosity, seeking some neutral ground again.

“Tony gave it to me. I shot the photo, but I’d never seen how it turned out.” 

I’d heard that he and Iron Man didn’t always get along. Mostly gossip about how they bicker and would annoy the agents waiting to deploy on an op, so the Director had stopped sending them to the same places if he could help it. In this moment though, it was clear that Tony was a strong conduit to Steve’s past and it was hard to ignore the wave of loneliness that rolled off him. “It’s a great one. They look so happy.” He nods, continuing to look at it. I don’t want to step on his reminiscence so I turn to leave him to his thoughts. 

“Agent?” I stop and pivot just a little towards him. “The envelope?” I realize it’s still tucked under my arm and I look towards the ceiling in a desperate plea for The Powers of All to save me from any more stupid moves in front of this man ever again. 

“Right, sorry.” I say, hoping some old-time stage hook will just come drag me away.

“Thanks. And you don’t need to apologize all the time. You work here, same as me. You have as much right to be in this office as I do.”

O, Captain, that is not at all true. Thankfully, my brain stops my running mouth before I straight up contradict a superior, though I appreciate that he wants that to be true. “Good night, Captain.”

“Good night.” As I leave the office, the music starts again; this time playing playing Earth, Wind, and Fire’s September.

******

In any other context, I might object to being tasked as Director Fury’s delivery person with ever increasing regularity, since I’m an analyst, not a messenger. However, the only person he sends me to is Captain Rogers, so how can I complain? Yeah, he’s the 8th level of Dante’s Inferno kind of hot, but these end-of-work assignments have let me see Steve Rogers for who he is, not just a magazine cover story. Most of our conversations only last 4 or 5 minutes, but they are the best part of any day they happen. He’ll ask about my work and genuinely seems interested the data analysis I do. I don’t ask him about the rumors of missions he goes on because my security clearance is slightly above the kid who delivers our sandwiches at lunch time so I stick to topics of life outside of work. Surprisingly, he never seems to hold back personal stories. Especially ones of his past. Something extremely rare in this building. 

Every time the elevator doors open on the third floor after 1700, I can hear the music play. Marvin Gaye, Earth, Wind, and Fire, Aretha Franklin, Al Green, Otis Redding, Stevie Wonder, ...he definitely has a specific taste for 60′s & 70’s R&B. Today as I approach, the song plays slow and melancholy. 

You know I can’t stand it. Your running around. You know better, daddy. I can’t stand it, ‘cause you put me down. Yeah, yeah. I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.

Something made me stop just outside his office this time, listening. I can see him sitting with his arm resting on his desk, playing with a metal coin of some kind while looking out the window. The coin is bigger than any currency I’ve seen, and thicker, like a medal or medallion. He idly flips it through his fingers, lost in thought as the trumpet plays a jazz rift.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you anyhow. And I don’t care if you don’t want me, I’m yours anyhow. I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.

A deep, mournful scatting ends the song so I knock lightly, knowing I’m interrupting something. He turns his head a little and nods, so I enter. As I get closer, I see wetness in his eyes. Not falling, just holding a firm tension at the edge of his lids.

“You OK, Sir?”

He sits up a little and shifts his chair so he’s fully turned towards me from behind his desk. “No need to call me Sir. And yeah, I’m fine.” He taps the coin on the desk and lays it down as he reaches over and pauses the playlist, which had shuffled to Bring It on Home to Me by Sam Cooke. 

“Please. Sit and talk to me for bit.”

This is the first time he’s asked me to sit during one of these after-work deliveries, making me wonder if he really is OK. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just needed to bring you this.” I slid the folder with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the front towards him. This one wasn’t classified, or I never would have been asked to bring it in an open file folder.

“You really gotta stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault or responsibility. You’re here because you were ordered to by Fury.”

“I don’t mind, really.” 

“Well, it’s not exactly in your job description to bring me files. It’s probably my fault you keep getting asked. After the first time, I was talking to Nick about the information you’d given me and I told him that I enjoyed talking to you.”

My ears feel warm at the compliment. “I enjoy talking to you too.” This feels so awkwardly intimate that I have to shift gears to ease my nervousness. “What is that?” I point to the coin.

He hands it over. It’s about an inch and half in diameter; punched brass in deep relief. The edges are slightly worn down but readable. The words “107th Infantry” along run along the outer edge with two crossed rifles in the center. 

“It’s a Challenge Coin. They became a thing with the OSS during the war, but after all they’d been through with Hydra, the 107th felt they deserved them too. So the junior officers had their own made.”

“Was that your unit?” I wished I recalled more from 10th grade history class.

“Not exactly. I was kind of my own unit, but I ran missions with the 107th and a few others once the Howling Commandos came together. That,” he gestures to the coin in my hand, “was Bucky’s.” 

I glance at the photo on the desk. After our first encounter, I’d Googled Bucky Barnes so I wouldn’t make any more asshole remarks about his friends and learned he’d been a Sergeant in the 107th. “Wasn’t he enlisted though?”

Steve raised an eyebrow.”You’ve been researching. Yeah, but he was also very good at placing bets he knew he wouldn’t lose. Won it off an LT we both didn’t like very much.”

Remembering his other stories of items lost to the past, I ask, “However did you find it?”

“Never lost it. The night before the mission where...” He paused and took a breath, “before he died, Buck had given it to me. It was still in my uniform pocket when they thawed me out.”

The question floated in the silence and I wasn’t sure if it was one he wanted me to ask or not. In all our conversations, he was profoundly honest, and he’d brought it up, so that seemed like a green light.

“Why did he give it to you?”

“I’ve thought about that over and over since the day he fell. At first, I thought maybe he knew somehow...that he wouldn’t make it back. In the years since... it seems more of a promise. Not sure what he was promising exactly, but that feels more right to me. Bucky never believed a mission would fail, so it makes no sense for him to give to me as a goodbye.”

“And that song? The one playing before I came in? I know it’s an oldie, but I didn’t think it went back to the ‘40s.”

He chuckled. “What’re talking about? To me, Nina Simone’s a baby.”

“That was a woman singing?” I’d heard of Nina Simone, but realized I didn’t know which songs she was famous for. 

“Yeah. Don’t you just love her voice?”

“She’s amazing.” I agree. “You listen to the blues a lot, I’ve noticed. Doesn’t that make you sad?”

“You think my music is sad?” He asks, not accusing, but with genuine interest. 

“Well, isn’t that what the Blues are? Songs for when you’re feeling down?”

“I read a quote once by Etta James, ‘When I’m singing blues, I’m singing life.’ I know a lot of folks around here think my life is sad; ‘cause of what I lost. And there are times I am. But when I listen to the blues, I don’t even think about the time since I woke up. I think about times before. Brooklyn. My mom. Breadlines around the block. Not enough coal to keep the room warm. Bucky. The War.  These songs, they feel like mine, even if it’s music from a later generation. Ya gotta listen to them with your heart. They aren’t sad at all really, just honest. The blues is life. Thanks for this.” He slid the folder over and placed it in his in-box. 

I hand the coin back to him and he places it in the front pocket of his cargo pants. “You’re welcome. Thanks for sharing. I always learn something when we talk.” I stand up to leave. 

“You’re easy to talk to. That’s a real gift. You ever thought of field work?”

I shake my head firmly. “No way. I learned real fast in academy that I’m as likely to shoot you or the wall as any target. I suck at firearms.” He laughs and bestows on me smile that reminds me why everyone loves him. “I like the work I do and I think I’m pretty good at it.”

“Gotta love someone who knows their strengths and weaknesses. You don’t have to limit your visits to delivering Nick’s paperwork, y’know. Come by anytime.”

I nod. “G’night Captain.”

“Good-night.” He’d touched the music back on before I’d even turned around. 

If you ever change your mind about leaving, leaving me behind, Oh baby, bring it to me 

The lyrics followed me out the door and down the hall as I pulled out my phone to start making a new Spotify list. 

[ladywinterwitch]

Dead Girl Walking

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress! Reader  (Teather AU)

Summary: The reader is the sobstitute in a off-Broadway production for the Musical Heathers. The female lead can’t do the show, so she gets called in her place where she’ll met the male lead, a charming blue eyed man.

Warnings: musicals, cursing, mentions of smut, mentions of drugs, making out, Seb’s a little minx, other people from the Marvel cast are in here.

Word Count: 5007 (long AF)

A/n: Okay so the idea obviously came to me when I was listening to the song Dead girl walking from the off-bway musical Heathers. It’s my favorite song from the musical and where I find it really enjoyable and funny to listen to, it made me wonder how two actors would be dealing with the performace which is A LOT. I recommend you to see this video if you want to understand better how the dynamic works and to listen to the song.

The songs mentioned in order are Beautiful, Candy Store, Freeze Your Brain, Big Fun, Dead Girl Walking and Seventeen (reprise) 

ps: Yes, that’s an actual gif from the show

                                                (gif not mine)

It was a normal day, calm, average. You woke up, read a few times a script for a new audition, went out for lunch with your best friend, came home and started to read some pages of your last purchase, Stephen King’s Gerald’s game.

Now you were chilling on your sofa, with your cat sleeping near your feet, when suddenly the cellphone rang, scaring the shit out of you.

You jumped a little scaring off your pet which ran away. You sighed and streched to reach your phone on glass coffe table in front of you. The number was unknown, but you answer anyway.

-Hello?- 

-Y/n? Thank God, that’s the right number.- You recognized the voice of the director of the theatrical show you auditioned for, Heathers. Unfortunately you didn’t get the part, but you were called back to be a reserve for the main role.

-Theresa? Is everything all right?- you asked, sitting straight and putting your legs down the sofa, two of your fingers used as bookmark.

-Yeah it’s just, you got anything planned tonight? Or, well, right now?- the woman asked a little nervous. You could hear noise in the background.

-No, no. Absolutley nothing, uhm, why?- you basically jumped up.

-Perfect. Then we’ll wait for you at the theatre in like, ten minutes, yeah? See you.- Before you could ask anything else, she hang up. 

-Fuck.- you cursed loudly, literally throwing the book on the table and running to your bedroom. How the hell were you supposed to be ready and get there in ten minutes, when you were in your pajamas, had messy hair and didn’t have a bit of make up on? 

You think quickly and take from the wardrobe a military green dress and a pair of heel boots. Comfortable and quick, but still presentable. Then you rushed to the bathroom, brushed your theeth and your hair to make them look at least deacent. You decided to stuff into your bag you mascara and a dusty pink nude lipstick and you went to your car. You had already put on the musical’s playlist, listening to it while you drove there, just in case.

-

You arrived some minutes later, parked the car in a miracolously free spot and went inside. You entered the stage room and saw that the cast was rehearsing the song “big fun”. Theresa, which was at her director spot under the stage, turned around and when she saw you she motioned for you to come closer. You did, while the others continued to perform.

-I’m sorry, I’m a little late.- you apologized keeping your voice low. She shook her head.

-Don’t worry, our JD hasn’t arrived either.- she said with an hint of irritation, referring to the leading male part. She sighed recomposing herself.

-You can already imagine why I’ve called you, but still. Our actress for Veronica just broke her ankle, so she won’t be able to perform for a while. Are you still available? Tell me right away because you either would have to jump right on the stage and reharse all day until tonight or I’ll have to call reserve number three, which to be honest I wouldn’t be really thrilled to do.- she askedlike someone who definetly didn’t have time to lose.

You were in seventh heaven. You wanted that part so bad. You didn’t have a long resumee yet, and a show so popular like Heathers would’ve opened many doors to you as well as helping to make yourself know to the public. For a moment you didn’t even realized what she had just said. She gave you a side eye and you suddenly came back to your senses.

-Yes!- you said a little too loud, gaining a few eyes from the crew in the pit, but not from the cast on stage who were still singing. You calmed down a bit, before widening your eyes.

-Wait, you said tonight?- Theresa checked her phone while answering with a ‘yes’. You felt stupid for forgetting that.

-Tonight’s the premiere, honey. C'mon now, get on the stage, you have to rehearse and meet the cast.- you did as you were told, going up the stage. The guys were dressed with their own clothes and a man was on the piano. They were just singing and not doing the whole thing, which worried you a little, despite the fact that you knew all the choreographies and lyrics thanks to the rehearsals you did with the ‘backup’ cast. So you didn’t knew anyone from the actual one.

-Guys, we have our Veronica.- you head a few ‘thanks God’ and sighs of relief. 

-Five minutes break then we resume.- she clasped her hands going off the stage to make a call. A little group of people came to you. There were two blonde, fair skinned girls and one with dark curly hair and dark skin.

-Hey, I’m Scarlett, I play Heather Chandler. Those are Elizabeth and Tessa, and they play Heather McNamara and Heather Duke. Nice to meet you..?- she efficiently introduced herself and the other two girls with enthusiasm. You smiled at them, waving slightly.

-Y/n. And well, you already know I’ll be Veronica Sawyer.- you chuckle a little and they smiled. Then two guys joined you introducing themselves as Chris and Anthony, which respectively play Kurt and Ram, the two stereotypical frat boy douchebags. But they were all but that, instead they were both quite attractive and funny, and nice above all.

Then Hayley, a nice british girl, introduced herself too and said she was going to play Martha. You honestly could’ve never pictured her as a stereotyped loser with a few extra punds like the character. She was too pretty and definetly not fat. She had curves and she was stunning. But you knew that the voice was the main requirement to be choosed in this type of castings so you imagined that that was the reason they choosed her. Also, the make up would’ve done the rest.

The director interrupeted your conversation saying that it was time to resume the reharsals, so you all got in position, this time adding the dancing to the singing.

-

You started with the song “beautiful”, then the Heathers trio sang “candy store” and so on, until you got to your personal favorite, “Dead girl walking”. It had gone all pretty smoothly, the director intervening a few times to give advices and correct something.

-Okay y/n, you’re on your own now, I’ll sing for JD. Start at the note.- the piano man said and you nodded, clearing your throat slightly to prepare yourself. He started to play and on the right timing you began to sing, standing next to him since your partner wasn’t there to perform and doing it on your own would’ve been kinda awkward.

You performed beautifully and at the end the crew even clapped. You knew that was one of the hardest songs, so you felt a pinch of pride at their reaction.You blushed a smiled grateful.

-I see you found my new partner in crime.- you heard a deep, amused, voice coming from behind you. You and the rest of the cast turned around. A guy was standing on the door jamb with a smirk. He was tall, had brown hair, a little long just under his ears, and they were pulled back. He was probably the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen.

-What an honor for you to join us mortals. And you guessed right, Sebastian. Y/n will be your Veronica. Probably for the rest of the plays.- Theresa said shocking you. Your head snapped towards her which was looking at you with a grin. You smiled widely, a hand covering your mouth from the surprise.

-What about the other girl?- you asked walking to her. She shrugged.

-We don’t know when she will be able to walk and dance again, plus, your talent is pretty much the same. Only you’re nicer.- she confessed, you shook your head a bit in disbelief and gave her a hug.

-Thankyou, that’s an honor.- you thanked her sincerely. She nodded and tilted her head to the side.

-Don’t thank me, thank your preparation. Now go meet your partner. He’s a bit presumptuos, but he’s good deep inside.- 

You left her with the some other cast member and got closer to the group that surrounded Sebastian. Chris saw you coming and smiled.

-Hey y/n, congrats. We’re happy you’re going to stay with us.- you laugh a bit.

-Thankyou Chris, I still don’t realize it.- 

-Aw c’mon, you deserve it. In any case, we’ll leave you talk, from Veronica to JD.- Tessa held your arm for a second before going away with the rest of the people.

At that point you were left alone with Sebastian. You felt a bit intimidated for some reason. You didn’t know if was for his confident behaviour or the amused look that he was giving you.

-Well, hello there.- he clearly checked you out, keeping his smirk. You understood that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it was just his way to be friendly.

-Hi.- you said a bit embarassed. 

-I would say congratulations, but it would be probably the tenth time, so I’ll just settle with nice to meet you.- he offered his hand and you shook it a few times, a lopsided smile on your lips.

-Likewise.- he didn’t take his eyes off of you. Before you could talk again, one of the producers spoke to everyone.

-All right folks, it’s time to get ready. The people will arrive in two hours and the stage must be prepared. To the changing rooms.- Your eyes widened and your heart started to race.

-Hey now, don’t panic. You were amazing earlier. Just take a deep breath. It’s time to get ready. It’s going to be alright.- he spoke in a reassuring tone that made you automathically smile a little. He started to walk away, then turned back for a split second.

-Well, actually maybe a few drops of alchol would help, just in case.- you laughed and he winked at you.

-

You shared the room with the four girls. It was a bit chaotic, but everyone did their thing professionally and without losing time. After a good forty-five minutes of make up, which was included: foundation, mascara, eyeliner, blush, and a pale cherry lipstick. The red lipstick was actually a tint, because you would have to kiss a lot and certainly there wouldn’t have been time to clean the mess and re-apply it over and over.

 The rest of the time was left for the hair to get done. First they tied up your hair with a few bobby pins, then applied a bald cap fixing it, and last but not least, they slipped on a raven black, shoulder lenght wig on your head. The hairstylist started to curl the black locks in loose curls at the tips. In the mean time the make up artist gave the last touches to the make up and then applied the tiny mic at the top of your forehead. applying some foundation to try to blend it better with your skin tone. 

During all the process you talked and had fun with the girls. You found out that Scarlett was dating Chris, that Tessa was excited because her new girlfriend would’ve been here to see her perform, that Hayley was originally from London but came to New York because her dream was to be on Broadway and that Lizzie was from a family of actors but that she was the only one who sang.

When the hairstylist had finished curling and styling the wig, she applied a blue hairband with a very simple knot on the right side.

Lastly, it was time to get dressed. You thanked God when you finally stood up from the make up chair, you couldn’t take to be seated anymore. The costume designer took yout plastic covered costume from the trolley hanger and uncovered it. 

-Tak off the robe, please.- the lady asked you nicely.

-Sure.- you responded right away taking it off. She passed to you a blue lacy bra and you rose an eyebrow. She shrugged.

-You know, that scene.- she responded, and you understood right away. She covered you with a jacket and you took off your current bra putting on the blue one. It was a bit tight, but it wasn’t uncomfortable thankfully. Then she helped you put on the rest of the costume which consisted in a plain white shirt, an electric blue elegant jacket, a light grey pleated mini skirt which barely arrived at your mid-thigh, a pair of white parisian stockings that reached just above your knees, and last but not least a pair of black heels. Not too high, thankfully.

You heard a whistle and turned your head. The girls were all ready except for Hayley which was still getting her, probably fifth, layer of clothes fixed. Scarlett wore red, Tessa green and Lizzie yellow, as their characters. They looked stunning.

-Look who’s gonna kick all asses tonight.- Tessa said. You all laughed. The costume designer helped you fit into a loose wool pullover with some ygly designs on it, then a scarf and an equally loose pair of brown sweatpants above your current costume. You started to feel a bit hot, but your told yourself that it was just for a few minutes of the first song.

-You don’t look bad yourself.- you talked back. Then there was a knock on the door.

-Girls, it’s time. Y/n on stage in ten.- a member of the crew opened the door and then quickly went away.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself down while you and the girls went to the backstage.

-So, all here? Good, good. So, just a few words.- Theresa spoke and you felt a hand on the small of your back. You tought that it was one of the girls, but you couldn’t be more wrong. You looked at your side, and got face to face with an incredibly sharp jawline. You turned back to look at Theresa, not wanting to embarass yourself, even if Sebastian’s touch was making you freak out a little.

-We worked very hard to get at this point. So behave and don’t screw up, kids. Love you all! And break a leg!-

A few seconds later you and the cast got called for the first song, 'beautiful’.

-See you later.- a shiver ran down your spine when he whispered in your ear. You looked at him. He had his hair back, just like before. He was now wearing combat boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt and a black long coat. And a smirk was painted on his face. The perfect Jason Dean.

You hated yourself for letting him have this effect on you, so you got your shit together and smiled seductively, gazing him straight in the eyes.

-Later, bad boy.- you teased referring to his role. had just a flash of his amused expression before walking away. You got on stage and began to sing.

- September 1st 1989. Dear diary…-  at first you were alone on stage, then some extras joined you, then Ram got introduced.

Anthony wore a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, nikies and a red and white bomber jacket with a big W on the left side. He hit the prop lunch tray you were holding with a fakely innocent ‘oops’.

-Ram Sweeney, third year as linebacker. And 8th year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.- you talked to the audience as planned with an annoyed tone.

-What did you say to me, skank?- he got closer, menacing. You jumped a bit and put on a scared face.

-Aagh! Nothing.- you responded quickly. You sang a few words of the chorus and then Hayley got on stage. She was almost make up-less and with some baggy and pastel colour clothes, glasses and and ugly liliac t-shirt with an unicorn at the front which could’ve easily made anyone at least two sizes bigger. She was almost unrecognizable.

-Martha Dunstock. My best friend since diapers.- you talked again to the audience, then to Hayley. 

-We on for movie night?- she replaced her british accent with the american one and pitched her voice a bit.

-Yeah! You’re on Jiffy Pop detail.- 

-I rented the princess bride.- she responded timidly. You laughed slightly raising your eyebrows.

-Ooh! Again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?- you cross your arms against your chest, listening.

-What can I say, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.- she answered sadly. Then Chris came running from the right part of the backstage, and smacked Hayley’s prop lunch tray just like Anthony, and like him he was dressed with the same pants, shoes and bomber jacket except for his shirt that was grey. 

-Martha Dumptruck! Wide load, aah!- he screamed mockingly.

- Kurt Kelly, quarterback. He is the smartest guy on the football team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.- you addressed the audience again, gaining a chuckle. Then you returned to spoke to Chris.

-Hey! Pick that up! Right now.- you ordered loudly. 

-I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?- lucky enough that you knew that he wasn’t a real douche, because at this point you would’ve already slapped him. You noted to make Chris compliments later.

-Yes, I am. I want to know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen, a future gas station attendant.- you said with the most insulting tone you could master. He furruwed his brows and narrowed his eyes a bit, looking down at you. 

-You have a zit right there.- he states. All the extras laugh out loud and you all resume to sing. 

Then after a brief instrumental pause everyone but you start to chant softly the name ‘Heather’. Scarlett, Tessa and Lizzie walk slowly on stage, almost in slow motion.

-And then there’s the Heathers. They float above it all.- you start to talk to the public as a narrator while you introduce them one by one. 

-Heather McNamara, head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings.- the spotlight is on Lizzie, then it shifts to Tessa. 

-Heather Duke, runs the yearbook. No discernable personality, but her mom did pay for implants.- you continue, then do a shot pause and the light shifts on Scarlett, which was in the middle. Their costumes were basically the same: very short mini skirt, a white shirt underneath an elegant short jacket, parisian white stockings that reached above the knee and black high heels. The only differecies were the colours, yellow, green and lastly red. 

-And Heather Chandler, the almighty. She is a mythic bitch.- the music gets a bit faster while you keep going. Another piece of song goes on and you get introduced to the Heathers, you ask them to sit at their table so that no one could pick on you and in the end they accept and decide to transform you. So while another chourus goes on, you four get behind the scenes and the costume designer is quickly at your side, helping you to take off the scar, pants, pullover and to put on the heels, fix any eventual crease and in the end she brushed a bit the wig while you put on a rosy lipstick. Just in time, you go back on stage after Scarlett, Tessa and Lizzie.

The song ends and there’s a little banter between you and them which want Veronica to give Martha a fake love letter form Ram to bully her. You refuse and they get angry, which leads to their song.

After another song, finally is JD’s turn to be introduced. He and Veronica meet in a gorcery shop and you start to eat some red licorice while he was drinking a frozen slushie. He looked charming. You were also having a lot of fun, which was ideal for your chemistry. A few lines later he began to sing.

-I’ve been through ten high schools, they start to get blurry. No point in planting roots ‘cause you’re gone in a hurry. My dad keeps two suitcases packed in the den, so it’s only a matter of when.- he begins, and boy, was he talented. You smiled at him, not only because you felt like it, but also because it was in the script. 

-Freeze your brain, suck on that straw get lost in the pain. Happiness comes when everything numbs, who needs cocaine?- he sang a few words, then came back to talking. 

-Care for a hit?- he raised the plastic glass, pointing the straw towards you.

-Does your mommy know you eat all that crap?- you smirked teasingly. He tilted his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.

-Not anymore.- he resumed singing along with the music. -When mom was alive, we lived half way normal, now it’s just me and my dad, we’re less formal. I’ve learned to cook pasta, learned to pay rent, learned the world doesn’t owe you a cent.- the note got a bit high and his voice changed in a more teasing tone. 

-You’re planning your future, Veronica Sawyer. You’ll go to some college and marry a lawyer. But the sky’s gonna hurt when it falls, so you better start building some walls.- he sings the chorus towards the audience, then the song ends, and on the last note he snaps his head towards you, his arm stretched offering you the slushie.

-Try it.- the public applaudes and the lights go off, giving you the time to prepare for the next song. It’s a very crowded and messy song, set in a house party. At some point you refuse to obey Scarlett’s Heather Chandler and she says that you’re over. You go away from the party feeling lost. The song ends and the lights go off to give the time to the everyone in the cast to get away.

You were slightly getting more and more nervous for the next song, which woul’ve been a lot more challenging, both to sing and perform, considering that you had to basically ride Sebastian in front of the audience.

You were left alone on stage, if you didn’t consider Sebastian pretending to sleep on the higher stage behind you on a mattress.

-The demon queen of high school has decreed it. She says Monday, 8 am I will be deleted.- you start, the music fastening a little. -They’ll hunt me down in study hall Stuff and mount me on the wall. Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them?- You walked near the lockers, your voice dripping worry.

-I don’t have to stay and die like cattle,I could change my name and ride up to Seattle. But I don’t own a motorbike.- you stopped suddenly, a lopsided smile sppearing on your face -Wait.- you looked at the audience.

-Here’s an option that I like. Spend these thirty hours getting freaky!- you hit the fist high note, pointing at Sebastian’s, fake, sleeping figure.

-Yeah! I need it hard, I’m a dead girl walking! I’m in your yard, I’m a dead girl walking! Before they punch my clock, I’m snapping off your window lock. Got no time to knock! I’m a dead girl walking..- the line getting softer.

You went up the stairs to the upper stage and walked towards him. He opened his eyes and sit up, straddled.

-Veronica! What’re you doing in my room?- he exclaims confused. You went closer and he got on his feet. Now he didn’t have shoes, had a pair of white boxers and a white tank top.

-Shh...- you put a finger in front of your mouth, shushing him seductively. -Sorry but I really had to wake you. See, I decided I must ride you 'til I break you ,'cause Heather says I got to go. You’re my last meal on death row, so shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys!- you start with a sweet tone that goes higher and stronger ‘til you hit the last note. You pointed at his boxers.

-Come on! Tonight I’m yours, I’m your dead girl walking! Get on all fours! Kiss this dead girl walking!- You pushed his shoulders with your hands until he got on his knees in front of you. The public laughed slightly.

He looked up at you, starting to caress your tighs with his surprisingly soft hands. They were going up and up, until he reached your ass cheeks. He wasn’t taking his gaze away from yours.

-Let’s go, you know the drillI. I’m hot, and pissed, and on the pill.- you snapped your head towards the audience, raising an eyebrow, gaining a chuckle. Then you returned your attention to Sebastian. -Bow down to the will-Of a dead girl walking!-

You both got on all fours and you gave him a little push to make him sit back, and crawled between his legs. 

-And you know, you know, you know. It’s 'cause you’re beautiful, you say you’re numb inside, but I can’t agree.-  You changed tone and got sweet, placing a hand on his heart. -So the world’s unfair? Keep it locked out there! In here it’s beautiful, let’s make this beautiful!-  

He looked at you and smiled, then exclaimed  -That works for me!- 

An instrumental moment began, and you both knew what would’ve come next. So you just did it, without thinking too much. He cupped your cheeks and forcefully pulled you to him, kissing you. You responded right away, trying to think straight and follow the script you started to take off your jacket and then his t-shirt, leaving him in his underwear. If your faces weren’t stuck together you woul’ve probably been jaw dropping at his tanned and muscular figure, but there wasn’t time for that. You pulled away and started to sing again.

-Yeah! Full steam ahead,take this dead girl walking!-

-How’d you find my address?- he asked scared. The public laughed.

-Let’s break the bed! Rock this dead girl walking!- you ignored him.

-I think you tore my mattress!- again, the crowd laughed.

-No sleep tonight for you, Better chug that Mountain Dew! Get your ass in gear, make this whole town disappear!- you motioned a ripping movement with your arms and hands. 

-Okay, okay!- he gave up, still scared.

You got on his lap, your legs on each side of his hips. The only thing that separated your intimate parts were your panties and his boxers, but it wansn’t actually enough.

-Slap me, pull my hair, touch me there, and there , and there and no more talking! Love this dead girl walking!- you hit another high note. This moment should’ve been arranged between you two before, like every performer ever does when he had to play scenes like that, but you had to improvise now.

It all happened rather quickly: He gave you a not-so-light spank on the butt, then put his hand in your hair and gently pulled to expose your neck, to the first 'there’ he cupped your breasts, then your ass and at the last one he tore open your shirt, that thankfully had clasp buttons and not normal ones.

In the end your lace covered breasts were exposed to him. You didn’t even had the time to blush, 'cause you started to ride his lap automatically following the script. He helped your movement with his hands on your hips.

-Love this dead girl walking!- you sang.

-Yeah!- you said together. -Yeah!- thrust -Yeah!- again.

-Ow!- he cried when you grazed on his neck with your teeth as you were planned to do, and then one last harsh thrust.

-Yeah!- you hit the highest note and the song ended. The audience cheered as the lights went down. You and him wnr behind the scenes while the crew collected the clothes and came back to the backstage, you didn’t dare to look at him as you both were getting dressed again with the help of the assistants.

-

The rest of the show went perfectly, even if you had a little bit of trouble looking in Sebastian’s eyes after that song. After the ’Seventeen’ reprise the show ended. You all came back on stage for the salute, and after that you went straight to the dressing room to change.

Scarlett was kind enought to let you borrow one of the two dresses she brought from home for the after party. You choose the first, which was mid-tigh, rose gold and sparkly, and had a collar to which the spaghetti straps were attached, leaving the back bare til the lower part. And abviously high heels. You fixed your make up and put on a quite deep shade of pink on the lips, then you were ready.

The girls continued to tease you about Sebastian. They haven’t seen the performance really well, but they did see the faces of you both when you came back to dress up. And that was enough. You shushed them while finishing to fix your now wig-free hair.

You arrived and many poeple made theri congratulations and compliments on your performance. Then you went outside to take a bit of air, your champagne in your hands.

-Hey. Nice play up there.-  you had learned to recognize that voice by now. You turned around. He was wearing a suit, the first few buttons of his white shirt unbuttoned.

-You weren’t that bad yourself.- you smiled briefly. He inched closer and whispered to your ear.

-Y'know it was a miracle that I didn’t get hard on the last bit. Your pussy grinding against my cock like your life depended on it.- you blushed from head to toe. You felt fire on your cheeks and not only there, if you’d had to be honest.

-And I know you did enjoy that too. The little wet spot on my boxers is proof. Am I wrong, babygirl?- he asked, his voice like velvet. You were a bit taken aback, but finally decided to do something. Fuck it.

-No.- you answered. The courage, didn’t even know where that came from. All that you knew, was that in that exact moment his lips were on yours, his hands on your waist and yours on his chest, leaving the glass to fall to the ground.

Someone must’ve heard that, 'cause Chris went outside to check and found the two of you quite occupied. He smirked and closed the door, going to Anthony to retrieve those twenty dollars they bet on you two.

This was a bit of an experiment. I really like Broadway songs and this looked like fun to write, so I did it. Obviously the musical’s plot, characters and lyrics do NOT belong to me in this case. Hope you liked it ;)

[softkitten]

Months in music, 2020

I used to always write about my favourite songs and albums of the year, but recently I’ve fallen out of practice. I felt I had to write about this last year, as the pandemic has played havoc with my memory, but I need to be able to remember what happened. It’s been important. I came out changed. I know you did too, and I hope if you read this, you find something to relate to. 

I’m unsure as to whether 2020 was an amazing year for music, or if being under lockdown and out of work meant that I had more time to spend with it, but I do know that music this year overall made me more excited than any year since I was a teenager. The circumstances we’ve all been putting up with have meant that we’ve had to learn new ways of being, new circuitry is growing in our brains, even if we’re old farts, as we’ve discarded habits that no longer work and take on new ones. 

I’m a mess. My anxiety disorder is worse than it’s been since I was a teenager. I’m not sleeping well. I spend a lot of time with my heart in my throat, and sometimes my temper can just erupt all at once, surprising me and anyone unfortunate enough to be present for the outburst. But I’m kinder, more considered, better with money, better at acting ‘professional’ without performing a weird caricature. I kind of moved on from performance this year, despite a lot of previous generational habits. The version of me that I present at work is me in some way, reconciled with the idea that if I were allowed to do whatever I want I’d be on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand. That ideal doesn’t define me, nor does a workplace role. 

2020 music hit different. Calvin Harris dropped the hottest club tracks of his entire career in a year when if you were caught in a club, you were doing something very, very bad indeed. Disco has dominated Spotify playlists and public spaces (when allowed), this is alright by me as disco is responsible for the sexiest parts of hip hop, house, pop, etc. We consume music differently, as the monoculture has by now completely disintegrated and no one ever, ever listens to radio. If you like something, Spotify will find ways to bring you more of it, you will rarely, if ever, hear Britney Spears or even Michael Jackson unless you seek them out. I’ve spent more time with music this year than I have since I was a teenager, I’m excited and awed by it in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time, but I also feel out of touch and very much my age. I don’t go on Tiktok. I don’t get it. I don’t need to be dancing in the kitchen or composing sketch comedy bits on my phone, I’m a middle aged man with payments on my car and a desk job. I think what’s going on is a changing of the guard - millennials are no longer the focus of ‘youth culture’ insofar as that exists. Remember 1999-2001, the cringiest of pop eras, when the major stars of the ‘90s were releasing sedate, mature records or just breaking up their bands, and the charts were the province of things that seemed retrogressive and primitive like Korn? It certainly was primitive, it was made for literal children, and I see something very similar in Tiktok hits and emo rap. 

Sheena’s ex was enamored of a scene in a 2000s action movie starring The Rock, wherein Schwarzenegger cameos to toss The Rock a set of keys and tell him, “Have fun”. Well, you censorious unfunky Gen Z brats are welcome to youth culture, I hope you do a better job of it than we did - frankly we left you a hell of a mess to clean up. If you need me, I’ll be working out how to enact my plan to die on a beach somewhere. 

January - Work Drugs - Burned 

January was a fuck of a lot different. Sheena and I had just come back from Playa del Carmen, our skin was tan and our hair was long. I had a great big bushy beard. I looked older in January, I was trying to cultivate a professorial air for work. I had plans. I was aggressively dealing with my debt. We were going to go to the west coast in June to see Luna, our newborn niece, and we were going to try to make it to Bass Coast, where, hopefully, Denis Sulta would be playing as he had done in the previous two years. 

Work Drugs is something Spotify found for me. I know nothing about these fucking people, after a year of listening to their entire catalogue. I think I found out that two guys were responsible for it, two guys I couldn’t pick out of a police lineup. They make knowingly corny ‘80s style pop - think Hall and Oates, or Huey Lewis on tranquilizers. One of my favourite things millennials have done in art is reclaiming elevator music, smooth jazz, adult contemporary, etc. - this music that was the definition of uncool when it was first published is now the new punk statement, millennials never had any appetite for buzzsaw guitars or shouty anger men outside of, like, emo. 

Vaporwave started ten years ago and it was pronounced dead within months. It’s far from dead. It’s responsible for Work Drugs, The Midnight, Nonlocal Forecast - music that is desperate to return to the illusory public stability of the ‘80s and ‘90s. Work Drugs fit in because it played well at the diverse office I worked in (median age, 46), because the name spoke to a duality I see in myself. The drugs you take on the weekend, the drugs you take to get through the work day. If only we could be ‘80s adults happily blasting through our uppers-downers cycles, mulling another affair and when to put in a pool. 

February - Tame Impala - Breathe Deeper

One night Sheena and I got drunk and I told them my plan. I was going to go back to school for a master’s of counselling psychology, and I was going to pursue a doctorate in same immediately after. I was going to quit my job once I upped my education and apply - I don’t know where? The government? It all seemed so clear and now it’s as easy to recall as a nine year old dream. Anyway, Sheena told me “Your future seems so much clearer than mine” and two hours later we were fighting like cat and dog, talking divorce. The divorce didn’t happen, thank the lord. We went to counselling, and it took a few months, and a few fuckups, but the lessons did sink in eventually. I love Sheena more than ever, even moreso than during the halcyon infatuation phase of 2010, the glittering release from the tension of our friendship, and I feel more loved than ever. Things are good to great. Don’t worry. I’m not worried. I didn’t realize how worried I was before, how flawed my communication could be before. The pandemic year has helped. We’ve patched things up because we do love each other, and because we are seeing each other through the misery and uncertainty in a way no one else could. 

I used to envy the relationships of my grandparents and their contemporaries - people who were together for decades, still, for the most part, happy. I remember the way my grandmother would flirt with my grandfather, how they’d keep up their little bits well into their 80s. Contrasting that with boomers, who were all about divorce, made a child version of me think that something had gone horribly wrong. 

Tame Impala’s last album is about aging - my favourite off it is not actually “Breathe Deeper,” it’s “It Might Be Time” - It might be time to face it/ you ain’t as cool as it used to be/ you won’t recover - these lyrics spoke to me as I crested over the wrong side of 35. But “Breathe Deeper” spoke to my reality in a more complete way. I’ve always seen our grandparents, Depression survivors, in us - when millennials were firmly at the reins of youth culture, Justin Timberlake brought sexy back right after he raided my grandpa’s wardrobe. That aesthetic reflects us, as it did then. Our relationships will endure because we’ve endured hardships together, we know how to take care of each other in unique, special ways. But the paradox there is all over “Breathe Deeper”, its last lines are “We’re both adults but we behave as children/ long as we’ve got enough to keep on livin’.” Indeed, it might be time to face it, but the world leaves us little other options. The adult world, with its aspirations to middle class status, closed to us forever in 2008, two years after Timberlake. I know the aging club boy act is getting tired. So do a lot of us, but we don’t have anything else to do. May as well go to the club and shut the anxious brain off for a few hours, make it harder for us to reach our blessed phones. Return home. Do this and get through this, and until we see the sun, you’re my number one. 

March - Duke Dumont - Nightcrawler

The week after the fight in February, I got fired. I have no idea why. The official statement on my record of employment is “termination, no misconduct”. No one ever thought to explain it to me - did they find out I jacked off in the staff bathroom a couple times? Did they somehow find out that, in my off hours, I’m into psychedelics? Was I chatting on Twitter too much for their liking? I was on top of my deadlines, so why shouldn’t I be chatting on Twitter? It wasn’t a retail job, where if you have time to lean, you have time to clean. I have a lot of work trauma. What happened to me there was essentially what my anxiety disorder tells me is going to happen at any job, 24/7. Part of me is sure I’ll be fired from my current position at any moment, despite having built a totally workable relationship with my boss, clients, and staff. I took it hard. 

Everyone remembers March for the onset of COVID lockdowns, but we would do well to remember that we had no idea what we were in for back then. We were talking then about “a week off work” - can you imagine? I still fully intended to see Detroit Swindle play at Hifi Club on March 27 well into lockdowns. Hifi has since shuttered after months and months of closure and subsequent inability to produce revenue. I applied to jobs like a machine in March. Just as I was getting somewhere with interviews, the lockdowns started, and the interviews were delayed indefinitely. I had nothing to do during the day and so spent a lot of time on the online red light districts of Whisper and Reddit, plying my trade, back to my ways, looking for anons to talk sex to compulsively. “Nightcrawler” feels to me like the compulsion of hypersexuality, boredom seeking validation while already bored by the numbers game of it, going through the motions. It’s so easy. Promise the moon and then disappear. 

In March, Sheena and I were going to go back to Saskatoon for a party with Twitter friends. Instead, we got caught in a snowstorm out in the Badlands and nearly died trying to get our car back up the hill and on the way to Calgary. Immediately after, everything closed. I think about that day all the time.

April - JARV IS - House Music All Night Long

It’s not a week off work, we have no idea when it’s going to end, and the statistics are going from bad to worse. We watch the news obsessively. We keep up chat threads all day long. We don’t leave bed until our hair is lank with sweat. We drink like fish - at one point during April, I ordered delivery booze, desperate to keep the party going. I met the delivery person at the door in my bathrobe and fell down the stairs. Shortly after that, I decided to clean up my act - at least, the drinking nights have to be self contained. New routines develop. With no gym, we learn floor exercises, playing Spotify playlists of house music off a Bluetooth speaker. Cooking becomes tremendously important. I begin reading Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in earnest - a book I began at 17, which I finally finished in June, 17 whole years after my initial purchase. Jarvis Cocker, who has been with me since I was 17, returns with a song recorded in 2019 that he seemingly composed with a crystal ball. 

“House Music All Night Long” is about endless, inescapable isolation. The futility of making and loving music that only makes sense in a public space, music that’s meant to soundtrack a joyful mutual celebration that will continue to be denied to us for the foreseeable future. It’s the closest solo Jarvis has come to the horror-porno soundtrack of the This Is Hardcore album and it speaks to a pandemic-specific version of the dread earlier described on “The Fear”. It mocks and sympathizes at once. When Jarvis yelps, “Saturday night cabin fever in House Nation,” he sounds like he’s going to the gallows, and we can find the inverse of the release house provides in it, through our Bluetooth speakers, on Zoom, in ragged house clothes, drunk as lords at 2pm, miserably unaware of what day it is. 

May - The 1975 - What Should I Say

In May the new routines started to stick. I accessed government relief, the days were getting longer, the snow was gone. On the weekends, Sheena and I went hiking, something we’d only done sporadically before, usually at the behest of others. Alberta is beautiful. Its countryside provides miles and miles of scenery to explore, and we spent hours outside, escaping the claustrophobia of our little apartment. 

In May, The 1975 released their latest album, Notes on a Conditional Form. It dominated my listening this year, to the point that my Spotify statistics were a little one-note. This album means as much to me as albums that started me on my journey with music, like Nine Inch Nails’ The Fragile. It came along at a similar time, I guess, a time in which my brain was working overtime to deal with circumstances and emotions and in which I had endless hours to devote to it. 

In May I fell out with a younger online friend, someone I’d met only once but spoke to every day for months. I have no idea why we fell out. I asked. I didn’t get an answer, I just got unfollowed, and I unfollowed right back. We will never speak again. “What Should I Say” is Matty Healy talking about being cancelled online by younger fans whose brains are developing faster than his, who love him, absorb his influence, and then abruptly reject him. “How do I get out of this? How do I win them back? Do I blame it on the drugs? Circumstance? Ambien makes me crazy, that’s why I said the wrong thing, that’s why you feel this way, please forgive me.”

After releasing Notes on May 22nd, Matty referred to the May 25th murder of George Floyd on his Twitter account, posting a protest song from his last album which includes the lyric “Suffocate the Black man”. His fans did not care for this and dogpiled on him, calling him self-serving, narcissistic, faux-messianic. He has since cut social media out of his life almost completely, returning sporadically to update Reddit fans and allowing his publicist to post official images. I took acid after my friend dumped me and listened to Notes on repeat. The day after, I deleted my old tweets. I won’t engage with younger people in this way again. I’m done trying to court the good opinion of those who don’t understand me or care about me at all. Unlike Matty, I have nothing to gain from this, and it’s really lost its appeal. 

June - Duck Sauce - Captain Duck

I remember the pandemic summer as a golden age. After a few months of it, the pleasure of having wide open days, no responsibilities, no phone calls to make or idiots to impress had fully set in. We kept up hiking until the bugs took over the trails, we took long drives, we took mushrooms, we ate al fresco in Calgary’s outdoor spaces, we went to Fish Creek Park and stuck our feet in the drink. I found I didn’t miss going out as much as I thought I would, this is an opinion I go back and forth on. I miss the good nights so badly, I fully intend to return to nightlife with bells on once it’s safe to do so, but I don’t know how long I’m going to stay. I don’t miss drunk DJ’s, or ones who are so amateurish that they blow the speakers prior to the headliner’s slot, or expensive drinks, or strangers intoxicated on much different drugs than the ones I took talking to and touching me. 

“Captain Duck” is a dancefloor bomb, one of a bumper crop of absolute bangers released this year as clubs closed en masse. Armand Van Helden, who I loved in high school, is doing the best work of his career solo and with his partner in Duck Sauce, A-Trak. “Captain Duck” played when I made ratatouille, when I made cheesecake, when I cleaned the toilet, when we took long drives to nowhere, when we worked out in our cramped living room near the catbox. I imagined it coming on right at 1:30am at a packed club, I imagined myself dropping it at Pacha to a rapturous reception. I fear the reality will not live up to the fantasy, when we are able to return. I hope I get to hear it in its intended setting. 

July - Spotify “Peaceful Summer Nights” playlist

No paradise is permanent. In July, I had no intention of going back to work. Once I finished reading In Search of Lost Time, I started making music again, for the first time since I was a teenager. Sheena and I were painting nearly every night. In Search of Lost Time features a cast of thousands, innumerable loveable characters lovingly realized. No one would read this long, sometimes dull book if it wasn’t deeply pleasurable, and if one couldn’t see oneself in it. There are a lot of characters that you will think about for a long time after you’ve finished the Search, if you read it - Odette de Crecy and the Baron Charlus have inspired endless discussion in formal academic circles and less formal ones, on Reddit and in the living rooms of friends. I saw myself in Elstir, the painter character who is a composite of Whistler, Monet, Harrison, a million other painters and Proust himself. In Elstir we see the mature artist, presented in contrast to Proust’s narrator, whose search for lost time is crucially also a search for his own artistic voice. 

In July, I felt as though I had finally found my artistic voice - with so much time freed up and so much beautiful, heavensent sunlight, all I had to do was concentrate on creating. The music I made is not half bad for an amateur. I found my skill as a painter improving. In a perfect world, I would still be dedicating my days to this. The “Peaceful Summer Nights” playlist would go on at night, we’d put ourselves to sleep to it, it’s one part smooth jazz, one part smoke and study mix. You’ve done your best. You’ve seen the sun. You’ve made things that you might one day publish. I felt like Elstir those days, the aging but still vital artist, the person who is perennially a student, but can easily make a teacher, if you ask the right questions. I go by Elstir online now. I try to access that part of my personality as often as possible, though, unlike Proust, I do not come from a background of means and therefore can’t make my own epic In Search of Lost Time analogue, or my own Guernica. With a universal basic income in place I could be that person, and I hope it happens in our lifetime. 

August - The Knocks & MUNA - Bodies

In August, Dennis came to visit us from Saskatoon, driving out in their car Heather. Heather smells like a grow show and is rammed with belongings in the exact same way that my mother’s car is. We went to the beach. We cooked. We smoked copious amounts of weed and shared music and went to bed drunk and happy. 

This song captures the feeling of that summer, and that trip perfectly. You are alone at sundown, just as the streetlights switch on, 9:05pm. Blue light from the neighbours’ TV flickers out into the street, and you’re fairly sure they’re watching The Simpsons. A skateboard grinds in the distance. You check your phone. You’re horny. You miss your friends. It’s another suburban summer. The sense of peace mixes with the dread, an uneasy combination. This will be over soon, who’s to say what comes next. Take your teenage regressive times when you can get them. You don’t know when they’re coming back. 

September - Modernlove. - Use Me

In September I returned to work after six months off, my longest time away from work since leaving university. I’m a program supervisor now, I run a group home for teenage boys. I have a lot of people asking me questions. I’m good at it, and part of me likes it, but I’m not painting or making music like I used to. I’ve had Marcel Proust’s biography out from the library for months, and I haven’t finished it. 

Modernlove are a copycat band for The 1975. The 1975 have been around for long enough now that their influence is written all over Spotify, and if you like The 1975 and engage with streaming platforms you will find Modernlove. The 1975 have a song called Chocolate, so naturally Modernlove did one called Liquorice. “Use Me,” though, takes that blueprint and goes in a different direction. It’s manic, hysterically anxious - a simp’s anthem. Where The 1975 maintain a baseline level of dignity, Modernlove abandon it completely. The narrator is making himself plain that he will accept the worst, most inhumane treatment his partner can dish out if only he’s allowed to continue to exist with them. The beat is all happy hardcore lunacy, the singer’s voice wavers and cracks. It’s extremely vulnerable. 

This is exactly how I felt being back to work. I was working 12 hour days. I was sitting in endless, very important trainings while dealing with a suicidal client and anxious staff and then reporting to a boss who seemed to think all my hard work was at best a normal work day and at worst pissing into the wind. Use me. I felt used. I made myself available for use. I waited for phone calls from clients at 10pm, who proceeded to tell me about the shits they were going to take when I begged them to stay in the program and away from their drug dealer friends. Use me. You work so goddamn hard to avoid squalor and misery, to keep it from the door, and here it fucking is at 10:00pm when you started work at 6:00am. Elstir has left the building. I’m a simp for money, the worst kind of simp there is. Keep dishing out the punishment and I’ll keep taking it. I have no other choice. CERB has ended. 

October - Charles Webster - The Spell (Burial Mix)

After all that stress, I took a week’s worth of stress leave. I am not the Sicknote Steven type normally, I haven’t had a family doctor since coming to Calgary, I haven’t needed one - the last time I was to a doctor before this year was in 2018, after I picked up flu from an airplane. When I went to the doctor, they took my blood pressure. It was through the roof, and the first time I was anything but low for my age and sex in my life. Why would it not be? I felt my heart jackhammering at my ribcage for three days straight, before I was able to pull myself together enough to operate a vehicle and carry on an adult conversation. 

This happened during the weekend of my birthday. I spent some time in a sensory deprivation tank, took mushrooms, went for dinner with masks on with a few very good friends. I painted. And at the end of my stress leave, I went to meet my boss for a showdown. I said what my boundaries were, and since then, I’ve had a fine time at work. It’s not sitting around the flat all summer painting but for now, it’ll do. 

This song sounds to me like exploration - exploring the same neighbourhood that the Knocks’ “Bodies” takes place in, but with a chill in the air and some colour in the leaves. The pandemic isn’t going anywhere, in fact, it’s about to play its ace. Halloween is cancelled. People were coming to me, asking me questions, but I was able to make space for myself in the liminal spaces I got to spend the whole year occupying up until this point. 

November - The Weeknd - Heartless

A few years ago, I had tweeted during the month of November, “I woke up from a 7pm nap and wondered if we’d already had New Year’s. God I hate winter”. This month was that feeling again, amplified by pandemic conditions and work exhaustion. As is typical for the shoulder seasons in Calgary, the weather vacillated from bitterly cold wintertime air to crisp autumn with no arc or sense of relief. Depression set in. In November I’d organized and was finally able to execute a hotel-room liaison with a friend I’ve flirted with for years. I played this song on repeat to pump myself up for the encounter - it’s a pimp anthem, teeming with sexual menace, crackling with possibility. 

The reality of the situation was not as The Weeknd described. We messed around a little bit. We went to the Canadian Brewhouse. We binged all of The Queen’s Gambit in one go. She bitched about the bathroom facing the bed. I flipped out a little when I couldn’t get the internet to connect. We ordered Skip the Dishes and got the evil eye from the concierge, who was fully aware that we were there to violate new provincial pandemic restrictions. C’est la vie. 

December - Fred again.. - Julia (Deep Diving)

As I’ve said many, many times, I’m not a fan of Christmas. I used to love it, right up until my mid-20s. Why would I not? I was an only child. It was all about me. I received extravagant gifts at Christmas, got days and days of time off, got to get drunk with my friends, hang out with my mom, watch movies. The thing they don’t tell you is that once you’re no longer a cute kid, Christmas takes on a dramatically different meaning. As an adult, there’s always someone coming around to heap extra work on you at Christmas, and insist that you perform it while wearing a stupid fucking sweater or a hat, and demand that you like it.

This year gave others a taste of my baseline experience of Christmas. Work parties conducted through Zoom, wherein tedious and impersonal games are played through apps, leave bad tastes in everyone’s mouths. It’s all very Ready Player One. The dystopia is fully here. But you have to do something. 

In December I let myself become more sentimental. I had an emotional conversation with my mother in which I talked about her relationship to memory and mine, which mirrors Proust’s. I’m in therapy and developing strategies to deal with my seasonal depression and get back to making art while still working. Fred again’s releases this year all feature spoken excerpts from conversations he’s had with his friends in virtual venues. “I’m deep diving into your emotions,” Julia says from afar, maintaining and developing a connection to someone she loves despite many obstacles. I’m depressed. I’ve been a crappy friend this month, I’ve left conversations on read, my sex drive is in the toilet and I’d prefer to be invisible. But I want to connect with you as best I can, in the limited capacity we’re afforded. 

2020 - The 1975 - I Think There’s Something You Should Know

One of the things I love about The 1975 is that their music is iterative, their songs follow plot threads that advance from album to album. On “Robbers,” the narrator, deep in infatuation, describes his lover as having a face straight out of a magazine. One album later the luster has worn off of the love object, and the face straight out of a magazine now just looks like anyone. 

“I Think There’s Something You Should Know” is described by Matty Healy as a direct sequel to their most famous song, “Somebody Else”. “Somebody Else” is emo R&B, it’s about addiction and identity, and about the ways in which one’s personality can come to be distorted by devotion to a substance or a person, and how one finds their way back to themselves once the drugs don’t work, or the perfect lover has become someone you hope to never see again. 

“I Think There’s Something You Should Know” builds on that theme, but this time, the conflict isn’t about a person or a drug. It’s the feeling of idealized performance versus lived reality, the dissonance that one feels in the middle of impostor syndrome. When I listened to this song on our acid trip in May, I pictured an idealized version of myself in a camel coat and a cashmere sweater, with new leather gloves and a clean black car. The song feels like good cologne in the way it envelopes and embraces the listener. It seems to be able to tell the future. The paradox, then, is that it’s all about self-doubt. “I don’t feel like myself, I’m not gonna lie,” Matty sings, fully aware that he’s forgotten what feeling like himself even is. The song’s narrator is someone who is functioning at the absolute top of their game while being completely sure that they have no business being where they are. 

The year has been a paradox, and it’s left me in a position reflected perfectly in these lyrics. In some ways I’m incredibly competent, in some ways I’ve moved past mental health issues that have set me back for years. But I’m emotional, raw, exhausted. Social media and COVID have given me ADHD, I can’t keep a thought in my head. I have no idea if the people I’m talking to think I’m right on the money, or completely full of shit. And yet, somehow, I am where I am, and the police haven’t arrived to cart me off to jail. My boss blows endless smoke up my ass when before I was terrified of her. I do what I say I’m going to do. I ask the right questions. I think there’s something you should know, and that’s that I think I’m wrong about most things. That I think people are worth our effort and that communities are worth building, but that individuals have the potential to do reprehensible, incomprehensible and unforgivable things. I’m beside myself with relief that this year is over, but I highly, highly doubt that next year is going to be some great leap forward. We have a lot of work to do, and I’ll help to the best of my abilities, but I need to be allowed to be alone, to decompress, to self-destruct as a form of recreation, and to create things. This year has traumatized me and all of us, and my post-pandemic brain is one that’s responding to trauma. In some ways, I’m dramatically better, and better off. In other ways, I’m sicker than I was. This is true of you too. Let’s talk about it. 

My favourite albums of the year:

The 1975 - Notes on a Conditional Form

Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia

Pole - Fading

Ana Roxanne - Because of a Flower

Teen Daze - Reality Refresh series

Sparkle Division - To Feel Embraced

Jake Muir - the veiled hum of your voice

Moodymann - Taken Away

The Mountain Goats - Getting Into Knives

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith - The Mosaic of Transformation

Sevdaliza - Shabrang

DJ Boring - Like Water

Actress - Karma and Desire

Avalon Emerson - DJ-Kicks

DaBaby - Blame It On Baby

Duval Timothy - Help

Velocette - Discotheque Saudades

Jex Opolis - Net Worth Pantha du Prince - Conference of Trees

Four Tet - Sixteen Oceans

Caribou - Suddenly

Megan Thee Stallion - Good Newz

Romeo Poirier - Hotel Nota

Southern Shores - Siena

The Weeknd - After Hours

Tensnake - L.A. 

Kylie Minogue - DISCO

The Avalanches - We Will Always Love You

Nonlocal Forecast - Holographic Universe(s?)!

My favourite songs of the year: 

Love Regenerator - Moving, Rina Sawayama - Comme des Garcons, Rina Sawayama - Lucid, Megan Thee Stallion - Savage (Diplo Remix), Phony Ppl ft. Megan Thee Stallion - Fkn Around, SG Lewis ft. Robyn & Channel Tres - Impact, The Midnight - Neon Medusa, Dua Lipa - Break My Heart (Moodymann Remix), Dua Lipa - Hallucinate (Tensnake Remix), Blue Hawaii - Feelin’, Tensnake - Strange Without You (Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano Remix), Disclosure ft. Mick Jenkins - Who Knew? (DJ Seinfeld Remix), A-Trak & Ferreck Dawn - Coming Home, Robyn - Baby Forgive Me (Floorplan Remix), Robots With Rayguns - IWD4U, Southern Shores - Estrisa, Lindstrom & Prins Thomas - Limousine Lies, Sophie Ellis-Bextor - Crying At the Discotheque, Hot Chip ft. Jarvis Cocker - Straight to the Morning, Bonobo & Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs - Heartbreak, Moodymann - Do Wrong, BT & Matt Fax - 1AM in Paris, Kiesza - Love Me With Your Lie, Tritonal ft. Linney - Electric Kids, Jessie Ware - What’s Your Pleasure?, Roisin Murphy - Murphy’s Law, Kllo - Somehow, DaBaby - Rockstar, Diplo, SIDEPIECE - On My Mind, City Girls - Jobs, Greg Foat - Yonaguni, HAIM - I Know Alone, Sassy 009 - Ghost Town, Yves Tumor - Limerence, RAMZi - couer dodo, Jayda G - Both of Us, Kygo, Valerie Broussard - The Truth, Kelly Lee Owens - Night, Dagny - Somebody, L’tric - 1994, The Japanese House - Chewing Cotton Wool, Amtrac ft. Lali Puna - No Place, Eris Drew - Transcendental Access Point, David Guetta ft. Sia - Let’s Love, Armand Van Helden ft. Lorne - Give Me Your Loving, Pet Shop Boys - Monkey Business, Pale Blue - I Walk Alone At Night, Yumi Zouma - Cool For a Second