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doyoulikethissong-poll · 1 year ago

Text

Yes votes / Artist - Song title / Poll number / Showdown votes / * Showdown Winner

95% A-ha - Take On Me #91 - 45.2% *

94,8% Boney M. - Rasputin #37 - 49,3% *

94,6% Beethoven - Symphony No. 5 #223 - 16,5%

94,3% Dolly Parton - Jolene #110 - 43,1% *

94,2% Ray Parker Jr. - Ghostbusters #399 - 11,3%

94,1% Britney Spears - Toxic #04 - 51,9% *

94% Green Day - American Idiot #264 - 29,6% *

93,4% Blondie - Call Me #373 - 31,7% *

92,8% The Rolling Stones - Paint It Black #236 - 20% *

92,5% Outkast - Hey Ya! #260 - 49,6% *

92,4% Led Zeppelin - Immigrant Song #384 - 34,9% *

92,2% Ritchie Valens - La Bamba #381 - 13,2%

92% Fleetwood Mac - The Chain #116 - 44,4% * 92% The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army #268 - 19,7%

91,5% Stevie Wonder - Superstition #261 - 15,9%

91% The Cranberries - Zombie #323 - 44,8% *

90,9% Smash Mouth - All Star #336 - 62,2% *

90,6% Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World #301 - 20,9%

90,3% Michael Sembello - Maniac #227 - 6,2%

90,2% Dead or Alive - You Spin Me Round (Like a Record) #163 - 30,8% *

90% Andrew Gold - Spooky, Scary Skeletons #400 - 11,4%

89,1% Kansas - Carry On Wayward Son #171 - 51% *

89% ABBA - Waterloo #361 - 36,8% *

88,7% Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus #358 - 20,4%

88,6% Bon Jovi - Livin' on a Prayer #307 - 25,1% *

88,3% Harold Faltermeyer - Axel F #289 - 18,4% 88,3% Rockwell - Somebody's Watching Me #394 - 8,3%

87,9% Madonna - Like a Prayer #313 - 34,6% *

87,8% The Weeknd - Blinding Lights #233 - 14,4%

87,7% Adele - Rolling in the Deep #351 - 15,5%

87,6% Gotye featuring Kimbra - Somebody That I Used to Know #267 - 15,1%

87,4% O-Zone - Dragostea Din Tei #353 - 23,3% *

86,9% The Ronettes - Be My Baby #350 - 19,6% 86,9% Black Eyed Peas - Pump It #354 - 6%

86,8% Gnarls Barkley - Crazy #206 - 17,3%

86,6% Amy Winehouse - Back to Black #190 - 32,9 *

86,3% Chumbawamba - Tubthumping #82 - 24,9%

86,2% AFI - Miss Murder #306 - 16,8% 86,2% Backstreet Boys - Everybody (Backstreet's Back) #391 - 26,6% *

86,1% Mary J. Blige - Family Affair #308 - 5,5%

86% Chuck Berry - Johnny B. Goode #53 - 18,6%

85,6% Santana featuring Rob Thomas - Smooth #205 - 19,1%

85,5% Dido - Thank You #120 - 5,6%

85,3% Ricky Martin - La Bomba #132 - 8,3% 85,3% Billy Idol - Rebel Yell #197 - 23,9%

85,2% Queen - The Show Must Go On #142 - 20,9%

85% Green Day - Basket Case #47 - 27,6% *

84,9% Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop #41 - 15,8%

84,7% The Cardigans - Lovefool #135 - 24,2% *

84,5% Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love #136 - 18,8% 84,5% Mark Ronson featuring Bruno Mars - Uptown Funk #386 - 20%

84,4% Daryl Hall & John Oates - Out of Touch #67 - 31,4% * 84,4% Pet Shop Boys - It's a Sin #382 - 16%

84,3% Blur - Song 2 #222 - 18,6% 84,3% No Doubt - Just a Girl #369 - 20,8%

84,2% The Sweet - The Ballroom Blitz #226 - 15,8%

83,8% Kylie Minogue - Can't Get You Out of My Head #302 - 15,8%

83,6% Lou Bega - Mambo No. 5 #372 - 30,8%

83,2% The Offspring - Come Out and Play #355 - 6,9%

82,7% Nightwish - The Phantom of the Opera #144 - 8,6%

82,6% Junior Senior - Move Your Feet #76 - 6,5%

82,5% Blackstreet featuring Dr. Dre and Queen Pen - No Diggity #249 - 37,8% * 82,5% Robert Miles - Children #270 - 2,9%

82,4% Myrkur - Tor i Helheim #54 - 7% 82,4% Tracy Chapman - Fast Car #145 - 32,5% *

82% Backstreet Boys - I Want It That Way #105 - 19,2%

81,9% Blue Swede - Hooked on a Feeling #152 - 17,1% * 81,9% 3 Doors Down - Kryptonite #167 - 15,1%

81,7% Daft Punk - Around the World #231 - 18,2%

81,6% N Sync - Bye Bye Bye #52 - 26,9% * 81,6% Shakira featuring Alejandro Sanz - La Tortura #269 - 4,8%

81,5% Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - Somewhere Over the Rainbow #42 - 16,7%

81,1% Metallica - Enter Sandman #200 - 32,5% *

80,9% Oingo Boingo - Dead Man's Party #397 - 14%

80,7% Jamiroquai - Virtual Insanity #72 - 17,9%

80,6% Fatboy Slim - Praise You #237 - 6,5% 80,6% Lil Nas X featuring Billy Ray Cyrus - Old Town Road #357 - 11,1%

80,5% Pixies - Where Is My Mind? #148 - 13,5% 80,5% Roxette - The Look #225 - 5,7%

80,4% Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Heads Will Roll #395 - 16,5%

80,2% Oasis - Wonderwall #157 - 16%

80,1% Soundgarden - Black Hole Sun #119 - 14,9%

79,9% Dee Dee Sharp - Mashed Potato Time #326 - 0,7%

79,8% Christina Aguilera - Candyman #228 - 5,9%

79,6% Fats Waller - Ain't Misbehavin' #179 - 7,1% 79,6% Deep Purple - Smoke on the Water #238 - 7,2%

79,4% Falco - Rock Me Amadeus #185 - 23,2% 79,4% Enrique Iglesias - Bailamos #304 - 6,2% 79,4% October Country - My Girlfriend is a Witch #393 - 3%

79,3% Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up - #Bonus Poll

79,1% Runrig - Gamhna Gealla #281 - 4,5%

78,8% Shakira - Ojos Así #75 - 7,5% 78,8% MUCC - Libra #263 - 1,7% 78,8% The Platters - Only You (And You Alone) #315 - 3,8%

78,7% The Jacksons - Blame It on the Boogie #220 - 15,8%

78,5% Kaoma - Lambada #57 - 4,2%

78,4% Danny Elfman - This Is Halloween #05 - 13,9%

78,2% Panic at the Disco - The Ballad of Mona Lisa #78 - 18,5% *

78% Panjabi MC - Mundian To Bach Ke #64 - 5,3% 78% Wang Heye - Windy #298 - 3,3%

77,8% Plastic Bertrand - Ça Plane Pour Moi #318 - 11,3%

77,7% Tenacious D - Tribute #201 - 23,6% * 77,7% Meat Loaf - I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That) #325 - 11%

77,6% Jimi Hendrix - All Along the Watchtower #95 - 13.1% 77,6% Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World #118 - 10,7%

77,4% Daddy Yankee - Gasolina #349 - 27,1% *

77,2% Psy - Gangnam Style #255 - 22,4%

77,1% Michael Jackson featuring Slash - Give In to Me #341 - 5,8%

77% Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road #22 - 29,4% * 77% Kesha - Blow #38 - 12,1%

76,9% The Verve - Bitter Sweet Symphony #271 - 32,5% *

76,8% Garbage - I Think I'm Paranoid #356 - 6,5%

76,6% Santiano - Gott muss ein Seemann sein #276 - 7,6%

76,4% Salt-N-Pepa with En Vogue - Whatta Man #134 - 15,1% 76,4% George Michael - Freedom! #219 - 17,2%

76,3% Johnny Cash - Hurt #81 - 35,6% * 76,3% Red Hot Chili Peppers - Otherside #92 - 8.2% 76,3% The Offspring - Gone Away #143 - 5,9% 76,3% The Longest Johns - Hoist Up The Thing #169 - 7,8%

76% Foo Fighters - The Pretender #111 - 14,2%

75,9% Queens of the Stone Age - No One Knows #87 - 12,9% 75,9% Cab Calloway - St. James Infirmary #360 - 6,2% 75,9% Porno Graffitti - Melissa #376 - 5,9%

75,7% Nothing but Thieves - Is Everybody Going Crazy? #113 - 3,7% 75,7% Warren G featuring Nate Dogg - Regulate #244 - 9,2%

75,5% Tarkan - Şımarık #94 - 3.1% 75,5% Lenny Kravitz - Are You Gonna Go My Way #246 - 24,6%

75,4% Jerry Lee Lewis - Great Balls of Fire #188 - 8,8% 75,4% Arash featuring Rebecca Zadig - Temptation #332 - 2,2%

75,3% The Doors - Light My Fire #319 - 15,3%

75,2% Eiffel 65 - Blue (Da Ba Dee) #147 - 14,2% 75,2% Duran Duran - Ordinary World #257 - 14,2% 75,2% Anastacia - Not That Kind #335 - 3,1%

75,1% Kent - Kärleken Väntar #202 - 4,3%

74,9% Måneskin - Off My Face #151 - 7,9%

74,8% Måneskin - Zitti e Buoni #16 - 33% * 74,8% Fiona Apple - Criminal #329 - 9,6%

74,7% Army of Lovers - Crucified #377 - 8,1%

74,6% Nat King Cole - Nature Boy #09 - 7,2% 74,6% Within Temptation - Stand My Ground #165 - 6,4% 74,6% Pink - Who Knew #166 - 8,4%

74,5% Crazy Town - Butterfly #275 - 8,8%

74,4% Go_A - Shum #177 - 18,7%

74,3% Arash - Tike Tike Kardi #137 - 2,6%

74,2% Nelly - Hot in Herre #278 - 11,5%

74,1% Nirvana - Drain You #367 - 6,5%

73,6% Paula Abdul - Straight Up #156 - 6,2%

73,5% Tina Turner - GoldenEye #195 - 10,1% 73,5% Shaggy - Boombastic #262 - 4,5%

73,4% Babymetal featuring F.Hero - Pa Pa Ya!! #322 - 7,8%

73,3% Beck - Loser #124 - 16,4% 73,3% Massive Attack - Teardrop #187 - 17,4%

73,2% The Avalanches - Frontier Psychiatrist #232 - 8,2%

72,9% Britney Spears - Break the Ice #300 - 13,6% 72,9% Prince and the Revolution - Raspberry Beret #328 - 7,2%

72,7% Iggy Pop - Lust for Life #199 - 7,6% 72,7% Whitney Houston - I Have Nothing #218 - 11,9%

72,6% Evanescence - Imaginary #44 - 13,5%

72,5% Gackt - Vanilla #282 - 16,8%

72% Robbie Williams - The Road to Mandalay #129 - 3,9%

71,8% Billie Piper - Day & Night #173 - 5,6%

71,7% Lil Green - Why Don't You Do Right? #34 - 1,8%

71,6% Bad Lip Reading - Seagulls! (Stop It Now) #209 - 18,5%

71,5% Savage Garden - Break Me Shake Me #352 - 3,3% 71,5% Fatboy Slim - The Rockafeller Skank #363 - 8,9%

71,3% Leila K featuring Papa Dee - Rude Boy #288 - 3,6%

71,2% Mötley Crüe - Dr. Feelgood #309 - 4,9%

71,1% Cab Calloway - Minnie the Moocher #130 - 14,4% 71,1% Ladaniva - Jako #259 - 2%

71% Udit Narayan - Bholi Si Surat #141 - 1,5%

70,9% Nine Inch Nails - Closer #93 - 22%

70,8% Eric Clapton - Tears in Heaven #295 - 8,2%

70,7% Ryan Gosling - I'm Just Ken #159 - 12,4%

70,6% The Lightning Seeds - You Showed Me #59 - 2,7% 70,6% Savage Garden - To the Moon and Back #83 - 7%

70,5% Queen - Mustapha #29 - 11,4%

70,4% Soggy Bottom Boys - I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow #26 - 22,3% 70,4% Metallica - Wherever I May Roam #77 - 8,6% 70,4% Johnny Cash - Don't Take Your Guns to Town #298 - 12,9% 70,4% Franz Ferdinand - Fresh Strawberries #324 - 3,3% 70,4% Alphaville - Sounds Like a Melody #347 - 4,1%

69,9% MUCC - Ryuusei #19 - 7,4%

69,6% Michael Crawford, Barbra Streisand - Put On Your Sunday Clothes #311 - 6,2% 69,6% Eagle-Eye Cherry - Save Tonight #321 - 7,2%

69,5% Spooks - Things I've Seen #104 - 0,8%

69,4% Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton - Islands in the Stream #385 - 7,1%

69,2% Flo Rida feat Kesha - Right Round #02 - 6,2%

69,1% Dogstar - Breathe Tonight #251 - 1,4% 69,1% Tanita Tikaram - Twist in My Sobriety #291 - 6,7%

69% Dead Man's Bones - Lose Your Soul #396 - 3,3%

68,9% Era - Ameno (Remix) #24 - 4,8% 68,9% M.I.A. - Paper Planes #229 - 19% *

68,8% Nat King Cole - When I Fall in Love #215 - 9,4% 68,8% Maroon 5 - Makes Me Wonder #216 - 8,5% 68,8% Aaliyah - Are You That Somebody? #344 - 7%

68,5% Linkin Park - Bleed It Out #63 - 23,9% 68,5% Snow - Informer #139 - 4,7%

68,4% Iggy Pop - Real Wild Child (Wild One) #305 - 2,5%

68,3% Run-DMC featuring Aerosmith - Walk This Way #127 - 10,9%

68,2% Limahl - The NeverEnding Story #60 - 9,8% 68,2% Nelly Furtado - Maneater #160 - 17,1% * 68,2% Abhijeet - Ole Ole #193 - 1,7% 68,2% Three Days Grace - Now or Never #337 - 6,9%

68,1% Stromae - L'enfer #89 - 9,8%

67,9% Urban Symphony - Rändajad #90 - 2,2% 67,9% Papa Roach - Getting Away with Murder #339 - 8,3%

67,8% Muse - Endlessly #107 - 9,4%

67,7% Poornima - Channe Ke Khet Mein #253 - 1,3%

67,6% My Chemical Romance - Sing #80 - 17,3%

67,3% “Weird Al” Yankovic - White & Nerdy #43 - 16% 67,3% Klaatu - We're Off You Know #378 - 2,1%

67,1% Ice Nine Kills - Welcome To Horrorwood #280 - 7,6%

67% Avicii - Hey Brother #164 - 13,9% 67% P.O.D. - Youth of the Nation #368 - 4,6%

66,8% Jamiroquai - Deeper Underground #258 - 5,3%

66,7% The Hives - Two-Timing Touch and Broken Bones #58 - 2,7%

66,6% Antique - Opa Opa #213 - 2,5%

66,4% Kiss - Heaven's on Fire #338 - 2,9%

66,3% System of a Down - B.Y.O.B. #128 - 26,2% *

66% Texas - Summer Son #154 - 2,6% 66% Tarkan - Şıkıdım (Hepsi Senin Mi?) #292 - 3,6%

65,9% Otis Redding - Cigarettes and Coffee #279 - 4,9% 65,9% Måneskin - Mammamia #283 - 22,2% *

65,8% Cliff Edwards - When You Wish Upon a Star #85 - 2,2% 65,8% Pātea Māori Club - Poi E #286 - 9,3% 65,8% Wamdue Project - King of My Castle #346 - 3,9%

65,7% Modern Talking - Brother Louie #50 - 4% 65,7% Ivan Campo - Dice Man #181 - 1,2%

65,5% All Seeing I - Beat Goes On #256 - 1,7%

65,4% Harry McClintock - The Big Rock Candy Mountains #131 - 6,7% 65,4% Jessica Folcker - Tell Me What You Like #247 - 2,1%

65,2% Eimear Quinn - The Voice #32 - 2,5% 65,2% 2Pac featuring Dr. Dre and Roger Troutman - California Love #121 - 8,3% 65,2% Radio Company - Drowning #172 - 2,2% 65,2% Sabrina Carpenter - Espresso #208 - 7,1% 65,2% Kiltro - All The Time In The World #224 - 2,4%

65,1% Samantha Mumba - Gotta Tell You #242 - 4,1% 65,1% Timbaland featuring Nelly Furtado and Justin Timberlake - Give It to Me #310 - 2%

64,7% Bloodhound Gang - The Bad Touch #162 - 9%

64,6% Gorillaz - Stylo #61 - 15,8% 64,6% Duran Duran - The Chauffeur #133 - 7,1%

64,4% Alice Cooper - Poison #01 - 10,5% 64,4% Depeche Mode - It's No Good #101 - 9,1%

64,2% Ace of Base - Happy Nation #192 - 3,8%

64,1% Destiny’s Child - Jumpin’, Jumpin’ #51 - 12,7%

64% 2 Unlimited - No Limit #182 - 3,2% 64% 30 Seconds to Mars - Battle of One #183 - 3,9% 64% Jack Johnson - Banana Pancakes #330 - 3,3%

63,8% Kongos - Come With Me Now #17 - 15,9% 63,8% A. R. Rahman - Jai Ho #40 - 4,6%

63,7% Eminem featuring Nate Dogg - 'Till I Collapse #239 - 2,1%

63,6% Björk - Army of Me #214 - 19,7% * 63,6% Aaliyah - Try Again #217 - 7,6%

63,4% 50 Cent - Candy Shop #320 - 12,2%

63,3% Dua Lipa - New Rules #126 - 10,6% 63,3% Smashing Pumpkins - Zero #327 - 5,1%

63,2% Linkin Park - Nobody's Listening #365 - 11,3%

63,1% Olly Murs - Heart Skips A Beat #106 - 2,2% 63,1% David Bowie - Life on Mars? #235 - 16,9% 63,1% Janet Jackson - If #364 - 2,1%

63% Moby - Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad? #123 - 3,8%

62,6% Métisse - Boom Boom Bâ #287 - 4,2%

62,4% 30 Seconds to Mars - Fallen #30 - 5,5% 62,4% Beastie Boys - Intergalactic #153 - 16% 62,4% The Castells - Some Enchanted Evening #207 - 1,3%

62,3% Childish Gambino - This Is America #71 - 18,2% 62,3% the Chemical Brothers - Galvanize #191 - 7%

62,2% Nemo - The Code #362 - 3,6%

62% Billie Eilish - No Time to Die #168 - 5%

61,7% Korn - Did My Time #194 - 6% 61,7% Ginuwine - Pony #297 - 12,8%

61,4% The Prodigy - Breathe #112 - 4,5%

61,3% Blue Stahli - One Last Breath #99 - 1.8%

61,2% Verka Serduchka - Dancing Lasha Tumbai #284 - 14,5%

61,1% Wham! - Everything She Wants #108 - 6,5%

61% Skunk Anansie - Weak #196 - 4,3% 61% Robbie Williams - No Regrets #383 - 1,8%

60,7% Gyllene Tider - Sommartider #274 - 2,2%

60,6% Lordi - Hard Rock Hallelujah #70 - 9,9% 60,6% Kwoon featuring Babet - King Of Sea #115 . 0,5%

60,4% No Doubt - Sunday Morning #265 - 4,1%

60,3% My Chemical Romance - Bury Me In Black #294 - 19% *

60,2% Toni Braxton - You're Makin' Me High #155 - 1,4%

59,2% Reol - The Sixth Sense #266 - 1,7% 59,2% Puscifer - Rev 22.20 #334 - 5,4%

58,9% AC/DC - Hail Caesar #158 - 3,2% 58,9% Linkin Park - Waiting for the End #272 - 16,9%

58,7% Duran Duran - The Wild Boys #21 - 9,6%

58,5% Nova Twins - Antagonist #68 - 4,5%

58,4% Ava Max - Torn #331 - 2,8%

58,3% The Beloved - Sweet Harmony #379 - 1,3%

58,1% Madonna - Live to Tell #184 - 3%

57,6% Coldplay - Hymn for the Weekend #234 - 4,4%

57,3% Red Hot Chili Peppers - Give It Away #343 - 16%

57,2% Enigma - Return to Innocence #380 - 5,9%

56,8% Mendez - Adrenaline #23 - 1,2% 56,8% Sash! - Ecuador #73 - 1,7% 56,8% Anouk - Nobody's Wife #176 - 2,2%

56,7% George Michael and Mary J. Blige - As #62 - 3,2% 56,7% Kelis - Trick Me #175 - 4,2% 56,7% Céline Dion - Pour Que Tu M'aimes Encore #370 - 2,2%

56,6% Nikka Costa - Like A Feather #48 - 0,6% 56,6% Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds & Kylie Minogue - Where the Wild Roses Grow #103 - 5,7% 56,6% Bette Midler - The Rose #342 - 4,6%

56,5% Ahmed Saad Ft. 3enba & Double Zuksh - El Melouk #359 - 0,7%

56,3% Beyoncé - Work It Out #340 - 5,2%

56,1% Margaret Berger - I Feed You My Love #117 - 0,8%

55,9% Blur - Coffee & TV #56 - 9,7%

55,8% Kool & the Gang - Too Hot #277 - 3% 55,8% Chris de Burgh - The Lady in Red #314 - 4,2%

55,7% Big Brovaz - Nu Flow #65 - 0,9% 55,7% K’s Choice - Everything For Free #79 - 1,2% 55,7% AISHA and Jamison Boaz - Love the Subhuman Self #211 - 4,2%

55,5% System of a Down - Fuck the System #293 - 16,1%

55,4% Moby - Natural Blues #07 - 2,5% 55,4% Janet Jackson featuring Q-Tip and Joni Mitchell - Got 'til It's Gone #146 - 2,2%

55,3% Ardis - No Man's Land #389 - 0,6%

55,2% Rammstein - Engel #35 - 7,3%

55,1% Maximum the Hormone - What's Up, People?! #138 - 10,6% 55,1% Eros Ramazzotti - Più Bella Cosa #290 - 3,6%

55% DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince - Summertime #273 - 4,9%

54,6% John Lennon - Imagine #203 - 5,3%

54,5% Billie Myers - Tell Me #86 - 0,9% 54,5% Lana Del Rey - High by the Beach #186 - 4,4%

54,3% Chthonic - Takao #285 - 2,9%

54% Aqua - Turn Back Time #28 - 8,2%

53,9% Ardis - No Man's Land #88 - 0,9% 53,9% Shakespears Sister - Stay #366 - 3,1%

53,6% The Chemical Brothers - Hey Boy Hey Girl #392 - 3%

53,5% Kylie Minogue - Confide In Me #13 - 5,2%

53,4% Apashe - Lord & Master #170 - 1,5%

53,2% Sugababes - Overload #312 - 4,3%

53,1% Rammstein - Wollt ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen? #375 - 4,8%

53% LL Cool J featuring Boyz II Men #243 - 3,4% 53% Maxim featuring Skin - Carmen Queasy #245 - 3,2%

52,8% Madonna - Who's That Girl #18 - 9,8%

52,7% Aerosmith - Falling in Love (Is Hard on the Knees) #84 - 3,5% 52,7% MUCC - Daikirai #161 - 2,1%

52,2% Marilyn Manson - The Fight Song #49 - 2,1%

52,1% DJ Shadow - Six Days #180 - 2%

52% Metallica - The Memory Remains #371 - 6,5%

51,8% Megan Thee Stallion featuring Yuki Chiba - Mamushi #345 - 10,5%

51,6% Bomfunk MC's - Freestyler #14 - 6%

51,5% Foals - Tron #210 - 1,6%

51,4% Faithless - God Is a DJ #388 - 3,7%

51,3% Mariah Carey - The Roof (Back in Time) #46 - 1,4% 51,3% Mori Calliope & Reol - 虚像のCarousel #55 - 5,6%

49,9% Basement Jaxx - Where's Your Head At #31 - 6,9%

49,8% Shaggy - Hey Sexy Lady #122 - 4,1%

49,7% Warren G & Sissel - Prince Igor #20 - 2,2%

49% Billie Eilish - NDA #10 - 2,6%

48,6% Shania Twain - Ka-Ching! #374 - 3%

47,7% Massive Attack - Angel #39 - 5,9%

47,5% Adam Tensta - My Cool #11 - 1%

47,4% Slipknot - The Blister Exists #100 - 2,6%

47,3% The Lonely Island featuring Michael Bolton - Jack Sparrow #221 - 9,1% 47,3% Burna Boy featuring 21 Savage - Sittin' on Top of the World #248 - 1,9%

47% Seether - Fuck It #74 - 2,6%

46,9% Rhiannon Giddens - Way Over Yonder #102 - 1,2%

46,8% Spiritbox - Rotoscope #66 - 2,6%

46,6% Sabrina Carpenter - Feather #25 - 4,6%

46,5% Stray Kids - Slash #316 - 4,1%

46% Prince - The Greatest Romance Ever Sold #69 - 2,6% 46% Duran Duran - Danse Macabre #398 - 2,6%

45,6% Jimmy Cliff feat Lebo M - Hakuna Matata #06 - 2%

45,3% Youssou N'Dour and Neneh Cherry - 7 Seconds #212 - 3,3%

44,9% Alcazar - Physical #254 - 0,9%

44,3% 3T and Michael Jackson - Why #114 - 0,7%

44,2% Tones and I - Dance Monkey #178 - 6,1%

44,1% Scooter - Friends #230 - 0,8% 44,1% Darren Hayes - Hero #252 - 1,2%

43,9% The Prodigy - No Good (Start the Dance) #08 - 2,6% 43,9% David Bowie - I'm Afraid of Americans #33 - 8,5% 43,9% Faithless - Insomnia #109 - 2,9%

43,8% Jonas Brothers - Only Human #204 - 2%

43,1% Atari Teenage Riot - Speed #317 - 4,1%

42,7% Fatboy Slim - Weapon of Choice #12 - 16,3%

42,6% Eminem - Rabbit Run #27 - 2,9%

42,1% Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men - One Sweet Day #296 - 3,8%

41,7% Rednex - Wish You Were Here #348 - 1,4%

41,5% Destiny's Child - With Me #198 - 3,2%

41,2% Diana Ross - If We Hold On Together #241 - 10,8%

40,6% Michael Jackson - Will You Be There #45 - 2,3%

39,8% Alanis Morissette - I Was Hoping #96 - 1.6%

38,8% Wyclef Jean - Gone Till November #36 - 1,1%

38,5% Bright Light Bright Light featuring Mark Gatiss - Next To You #174 - 0,8%

37,9% Ariana Grande - Yes, And? #140 - 1,8%

37,6% Babylon Zoo - Spaceman #189 - 2%

36,5% Jedward - Luminous #125 - 1,4% 36,5% Elton John - I Want Love #240 - 2,1%

35,3% Noporn - Geleia de Morango #150 - 0,3%

35,1% 30 Seconds to Mars - Midnight Prayer #333 - 1,1%

34,6% Ena Mori - Fall Inlove! #149 - 0,4%

33,3% Ryan Gosling - Put Me in the Car #15 - 3,2%

33,2% Camellia - WYSI (When You See It) #387 - 2,1%

32,4% Take That - Babe (Return remix) #303 - 0,3%

30,6% Jordan Adetunji - Kehlani #390 - 0,6%

30% Darren Hayes - Spin #03 - 0,6%

29,1% Addis Black Widow - Goes Around Comes Around #250 - 3%

29% Dreamcrusher - In Due Time #98 - 0.7%

28,2% BTS - Life Goes On #97 - 1.8%

#note

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transit-fag · 11 months ago

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#polls #music #grunge #rock

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astrcmoni · 17 days ago

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✮⋆˙⭒NIGHTS LIKE THIS✮⋆˙⭒

CHAPTER II: UNCHARTED ROADS

pairing: street racer!reader x billie eilish

MASTERLIST

warnings: cussing, implications of death…that’s really it

wc: 3.8k on the dot

authors note: i know i’ve been gone, life’s been lifing but please take this as a peace offering and enjoy. 🙏🏾 and if you haven’t read the previous chapter, i suggest that you do.

Your heart raced painfully in your chest as you sped off into the inky blackness of the night. The world around you melded into a dizzying blur of colors and shapes as you weaved through the escaping cars. The wailing sirens faded into a distant echo, barely piercing the adrenaline-fueled haze surrounding you as you tore down the familiar streets toward home.

Images of her flooded your mind like an unrelenting tide. You could picture her standing in the chaotic aftermath, eyes wide with shock, watching you rush to leave, her gaze lingering on your car until it vanished from sight, swallowed by the darkness.

“Focus,” you muttered under your breath, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as you veered onto a dimly lit side street, expertly dodging an oncoming vehicle. The screech of tires and blaring horns melded into a chaotic symphony, the world outside a cacophony of noise. You glanced into your rearview mirror, catching the furious expression of the driver you cut off, who promptly flashed you their middle finger. A smirk crept across your lips as you returned the gesture, your irritation boiling to the surface.

The flashing lights of the pursuing police cars flickered in your rearview mirror like erratic strobe lights, their sirens blaring through the night air. You leaned forward, adrenaline surging through your veins with every second. The pulse of the chase throbbed within you, but all you could think about was Billie.

How the streetlights cast a soft glow over her, illuminating her freckles that twinkled like stars scattered across a night sky. Her blue eyes transformed into a stormy grey as she looked at you with admiration, a smile dancing on her plump pink lips, making your heart skip.

Butterflies fluttered wildly in your stomach at the memory of her compliment. Why had you gotten so flustered when she smiled at you like that? What was it about her that sent your heart into a frenzy?

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your focus. The narrow alleyways and sharp turns of the backstreets were your territory—you knew them like the back of your hand. With a swift flick of your wrist, you downshifted and swerved around a tight corner, the wail of the sirens fading as you pulled ahead. You pressed the accelerator harder, your tires squealing in protest as you sped up, until the only thing left in the rearview was darkness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you pulled into a shadowy driveway, cutting the engine. Silence enveloped you like a soft cocoon, broken only by your ragged breathing. The adrenaline that had fueled you moments ago drained from your body, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. Leaning back in your seat, you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath.

“Goodness gracious,” you whispered, letting the words slip into the stillness. Your hands slid down your face, trying to gather your thoughts and regain composure.

With a resigned sigh, you pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to EJ.

you: You good?

Almost immediately, your phone buzzed with a reply.

emani janae🤞🏾: Yeah, I’m straight. We’re just chilling back at my place. Come through when you’re done being all miss mysterious.

you: Trust, I’mma be there. I just need to get ready first.

emani janae🤞🏾: For?🤨

Read at 1:24 AM

You shook your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. Of course, EJ was already back home, probably making fun of you with Zoe. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you contemplated responding. Instead, you pulled the keys out of the ignition and walked up the driveway, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

As you entered your house, you kicked off your shoes and flicked on the lights, rushing straight to your bedroom. The scent of cashmere and vanilla enveloped the air, a comforting reminder that you had tidied up before you left. You quickly headed to the connected bathroom, turning on the shower to let the water heat up before returning to your room.

After rifling through your clothes, you settled on an old graphic tee and a pair of comfy shorts. The soft hum of music filtered through the air as you tied your hair up and hopped into the shower, slipping into your familiar routine.

The room around Zoe buzzed with fragmented flashes of color and sound—bright bursts of a game show, the low murmur of a news anchor, the explosive chaos of an action movie. None of it captivated her attention. Zoe’s thumb tapped impatiently on the remote, flicking through channels like shuffling a deck of cards. Each scene dissolved into the next before she could even focus, leaving her feeling disconnected, craving something to latch onto.

Billie lounged on the couch, limbs sprawled out as she leaned her head against Zoe’s shoulder, letting out a long sigh as she watched and waited. Her mind buzzed with boredom while she waited for you to arrive. Heart still thrumming with adrenaline from tonight’s events, she reflected on how close she had been to not coming out at all, too consumed by her work. But the moment she stepped into the crowd, all that stress faded away.

The way the cars swerved and drifted sent an electrifying thrill coursing through her veins. But when the race ended and you emerged from your vehicle, all her worries evaporated like the smoke that lingered in the air.

How the streaks of grey and purple danced across your face, a captivating sight. The streetlights illuminated your lips, gloss shimmering against your soft skin as you flashed her a sly smile.

Hi, Billie.

She remembered how your voice flowed like honey when you called out to her. She could still smell the faint remnants of weed mingling with the warm vanilla scent that radiated off you.

A smile crept across her face as she continued to reminisce about you. Coming out of her daze, her eyes roamed around the room, taking in the space. Picture frames filled the walls, frozen moments encased in glossy prints. Scattered items dotted the surface until her gaze landed on a clock.

1:43

A groan escaped her lips as she read it. Almost 2 AM, and you still weren’t here. Her lips pushed into a dramatic pout, voice rising in a soft plea. “Zoe…” she dragged out your best friend’s name, eyes pleading, teetering on the edge of desperation. Zoe cast a quick glance her way before doing a double take.

“Oh my god, no, you do it.” With a resigned sigh, Zoe decided to give in, settling on a random education channel. Images of paint and canvas flashed on the screen before panning out to a pale man with a red afro.

“Bob Ross…really?” At this, Zoe shrugged and walked to the kitchen, Billie trailing closely behind. Billie leaned against the marble island, watching as Zoe rummaged through various cabinets, seemingly on a quest for snacks.

“Can’t you at least just text her or something?” she asked, tapping her knuckles against the smooth surface, the silver rings clashing with the cold marble as Zoe turned to her, a bag of Takis in hand.

“Can’t you just text her? No, you do it; you have her number.” She tilted the bag, silently offering Billie some. Billie stepped closer, pressing her back against the island as she took a handful of chips.

“But like I’m scared… What if I seem desperate?”

“Scared of what? I promise you, your girlfriend’s not going to care; she’s chill as fuck, so just do it.” A warm flush crept up Billie’s neck, spreading across her cheeks at the name. “Shut up,” she muttered, rolling her eyes, trying hard to keep a smile from breaking through as she playfully shoved Zoe’s shoulder.

“Ohhh my god, can you just do it, please? As my best friend, I’ll love you forever.”

“You’re already supposed to do that, but whatever.” Fishing into her pocket, Zoe withdrew her phone, the screen lighting up as she unlocked it and pressed on your contact. Billie sidled up next to her, peering at the bright screen.

zoe📸: Hey, you still coming over?

Your phone buzzed in your hand as you slipped on your fuzzy slides and made your way to your car, opening it to see a new message from Zoe.

you: Yeah, omw now.

you: Why, wassup?

Billie watched as her best friend immediately started to text back, fingers tapping on the blue arrow, sending a new message before catching what it said.

Your phone buzzed once again as it sat in the cup holder. Quickly glancing down with practiced ease, you managed to catch a glimpse of the preview message on your lock screen.

zoe📸: Nothing, Billie just—

You reached for it, taking stray glances at the road ahead, unlocking your phone. But by the time you opened the chat, it had vanished, replaced with:

zoe📸 unsent a message.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you wondered what had just been deleted. In response, you sent a final message back.

you: Huh?

you: ???

Delivered

The two friends exchanged wide-eyed glances, processing what had just transpired. Billie had panicked, snatching the phone to delete the text before you could see it.

“Dude, what the actual fuck?” Zoe let out a quiet laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Billie’s gaze was glued to the phone, her heart racing as it chimed with your double texts. Fighting against her impulse to respond, she flipped the phone face down on the counter, choosing instead to breathe deeply and calm the wave of panic that was beginning to swell inside her.

“Why the fuck would you say that?” she finally managed to ask, her voice edged with disbelief.

“It’s true, is it not?” Zoe grabbed her phone from the counter and slipped it into her pocket as she headed back into the living room.

“I swear you hate me,” Billie groaned under her breath, watching Zoe walk away. A rough sigh escaped her lips as she slouched against the island, silently praying you hadn’t caught the message.

The faint creak of footsteps echoed down the stairs, growing closer with each soft patter until the familiar jangle of jewelry announced EJ’s arrival. Notes of cherry and jasmine wafted through the air, catching Billie’s attention.

“Please don’t piss me off right now,” Billie heard EJ say as she stepped aside, allowing you to come into view.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion at the girl in front of you.

“I know you weren’t just talking about some ‘oh, I gotta go home and change and blah blah blah,’ while you’re wearing the most basic fit,” EJ teased, her voice rising a few pitches as she mockingly mimicked you.

“So?” you shrugged her shoulders, kicking off your shoes and setting them by the doorway. “So? You know what…bye, ’cause I’m not even—” You watched as EJ turned her back, making a right turn and disappearing into the kitchen, frustration radiating from her retreat.

You turned to the mirror on your left, checking yourself out. You hadn’t put much effort into your outfit, not expecting to need to dress up. “What is it, bad?” you muttered softly, picking at your clothes.

“Hey!” A small gasp escaped your lips as a voice sliced through the quiet. You hadn’t even realized they were standing so close. Her voice was the one you’d been thinking about all night, and a soft laugh escaped her lips as her blue eyes met yours in the mirror. Spinning around to face her, you cracked a smile, her laughter so infectious that it was hard not to return it. “Hey” you said in response, playfully rolling your eyes at yourself.

“So…that was really something, huh?”

“What, the race?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She let out a soft “mhmm,” head bobbing slightly in a light nod.

“I mean, it happens…are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she reassured you, trying to shake off the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins. “But what about you? That was…intense.”

“I’m used to it.” You shrugged, remembering the countless raids you’ve endured since you learned to race. Cops were just people you learned not to fear as long as you knew what you were doing and laid low. EJ emerged from the kitchen, stepping in between the two of you.

“Can you go get some food? I forgot to ask you to get something, and I don’t feel like going out,” she said, annoyance creeping into her voice. You smacked your lips against your teeth in irritation as you grabbed your keys and started to put your shoes back on.

“Fine, but I hope you know you’re putting gas in my tank for the next two days.” Pressing the button, you unlocked your car.

Suddenly, Billie piped up, “I’ll go with you…if you want me to, that is.”

“Kay’, I’ll be waiting, but you’re driving; I’m tired.” You tossed her the keys with a flick of your wrist and bolted toward your vehicle, the cold rain falling against the bare skin of your legs as you slid into the passenger seat. You hurried to turn on the heat, shivering slightly. Damn, I should’ve worn my pants, you thought to yourself

A low, rhythmic hum filled the car as your phone vibrated with subtle urgency in the cup holder where you’d left it. Stretching out your hand, your fingers brushed against the cool edges of the phone as you picked it up. Leaning your head against the window, rain and condensation clouded the glass, the light of your screen casting a soft glow that reflected off your face as your eyes adjusted.

4 new messages from Nia💞

Your thumb scrolled through your notifications as you immediately began to reply back.

The dull interior lights flickered on as the door opened with a chime. Glancing up from your phone, you saw a shivering Billie sitting before you, inhaling deeply through her nose as she attempted to steady her breathing. You swiftly switched off your phone and placed it back in the cup holder, your hand reaching smoothly from the passenger seat to lightly brush the console, deftly pressing for the heating. You turned her air vent closer to you, a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thanks,” Billie said quietly as she tied her hair up in a messy ponytail before relaxing into her seat, the heat creeping up her arms and providing her with much-needed warmth.

The melody of End by Frank Ocean flowed through the car, breaking the slight awkward tension that hung in the atmosphere. Billie quietly hummed along, finally gathering herself.

“So, where am I going?” The engine purred to life as her fingers pressed on the push-start ignition. Her calloused fingers wrapped around the wheel, the cool metal of her rings rubbing against the black leather. Her face lit up, eyes wide and lips curling into a grin as the external lavender lights illuminated the streets before her when she pressed down on the gas and revved the engine.

You couldn’t help but be in awe at the sight, the way she marveled over the car’s little decals. It was undeniably cute. “You’re gonna pull out and make a left over here.” You pointed out as she reached for the gear, shifting into drive. For what felt like the millionth time that night, your phone started going off with notifications even after you switched it to Do Not Disturb. Trying your best to ignore it, you leaned over, turning up the volume on the stereo as it transitioned into another song.

“Are you gonna get that?” Billie asked, glancing at you before returning her focus to the road.

“Nah, it’s just some…family stuff.” A rough sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your temple, silently hoping she wouldn’t press further. You leaned back into your seat, watching raindrops race down the glass, and listened to the soft music, occasionally giving her directions until she turned into the parking lot of a diner.

Twisting in your chair, you reached for something in the backseat of your car. As your arm stretched, your shirt lifted just enough to reveal the soft curve of your waist. Black ink lined your hip, swirls of plumeria flowers and other intricate designs etched into your skin, disappearing upwards, the rest concealed by your top.

From the driver’s seat, Billie’s gaze flicked down, caught off guard by the unexpected glimpse. Her heart skipped a beat as she traced the edges of the tattoo, her mind racing to figure out what it was without seeming too obvious. She forced herself to look away, feeling her cheeks flush, but her eyes kept drifting back, lingering on the exposed skin until you finally settled back into your seat with two hoodies in hand.

“Girl, are you okay?” Genuine concern laced your voice as you noticed the blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah…yeah, thanks,” she replied, her face burning even more as she accepted the black zip-up from you. The scent that belonged to you lingered on the jacket, notes of neroli, vanilla, and amber embracing her senses as she shrugged it on while you slipped your own hoodie over your torso, pulling the hood up over your head.

Both of you climbed out of the car and dashed into the pouring rain, making a beeline for the entrance of the little diner.

It had a vintage charm, rows of worn leather booths in deep red shades, giving each table a cozy look, as if they’d held countless late-night conversations over the years. Behind the counter, the neon glow of an old sign buzzed faintly, casting a warm, comforting light across the room, though it flickered from time to time.

The diner was fairly empty, save for a few patrons scattered about—a couple at the bar nursing drinks while another sat in a booth, indulging in whatever hot meal had been placed before them.

Fluorescent overhead lights cast a soft but somewhat washed-out glow over everything, adding to the sense of isolation. The walls were lined with mirrors and framed photos, relics of nostalgia. The faint hum of the grill could be heard, alongside the clinking of dishes from behind the counter—a steady rhythm that filled the silence between conversations. The air was thick with the scents of coffee, fried food, and something sweet, reminiscent of pies baked earlier in the day.

Your feet moved under you, guiding you to the counter you’d touched countless times before. The tip of your acrylics played with the cracks and grooves embedded into the smooth mahogany wood. The cashier took your long order and informed you it would be about a forty five-minute wait. You both decided to slide into a random booth across from each other. The moonlight streamed through the large window, highlighting the droplets of rain that clung to the glass.

“So tell me…” Billie adjusted in her seat, her curiosity evident as she spoke up.

“Tell you what?” you replied, glancing at her with a hint of confusion.

“How the hell did you get involved in street racing?” Her elbows rested on the tabletop, hands folding into one another as she laid her head on top, her blue eyes watching you intently. You noticed how her gaze made your body briefly tense before you turned your head to face her.

“Really?” you asked, surprised by her interest. She nodded, her head tilting slightly, cheek resting against her cold rings.

“My older brother… he taught me everything I know.” You pulled the hood from off your head, hair framing your face, snuggling a little tighter in the jacket as the memory began to unfold. “When I was about twelve or thirteen, I caught him trying to sneak out one night. I told him I would snitch if he didn’t take me with him—” Billie watched, her eyes lighting up as you recounted the story. A small smile played on your lips at the memory, and she scooted closer, hanging on every word.

“I remember us pulling up into the lot, and there were all these different kinds of people and sporty ass cars. I thought my brother was so cool…” you breathed out, your fingertips tapping lightly against the table. “Then the race started, and he was driving at speeds I didn’t even know were possible. You never forget the feeling of your first show, and you never forget the adrenaline of your first race. It made me feel…” You bit your bottom lip in thought, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings.

“—alive. I truly had fun that night, and I wanted to keep feeling that way, so I started racing with him.”

Billie smiled to herself, imagining a younger version of you, wide-eyed and eager, learning how to drive. “He sounds cool as fuck,” she said, her admiration clear.

“Yeah, he was…”

Billie’s eyes flickered to your solemn expression, her own softening with empathy. Reaching across the table, she took your hand in her own, her touch gentle. You noticed the intricate details of the angel tattoos etched into her skin that you hadn’t seen before, and how soothing it felt when her thumb rubbed the back of your hand. That simple gesture was enough to convey her own sorrows, a silent understanding passing between you.

A waiter approached with a complimentary basket of fries, sliding it toward the two of you. You both delivered brief thanks, the scent of the golden fries wafting through the air.

“Anyways, enough of the sad stuff. There’s something I wanted to ask you,” you said, shifting the mood back to lightheartedness.

“Yeah?” Billie picked up a fry and nibbled on it slowly, her hand still holding yours, maintaining eye contact.

“Well, if you’re interested in tonight’s race, there’s a car show in a couple of weeks. I’ll be speaking, and I was hoping you could come.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” she replied, her enthusiasm evident.

Relief washed over you at her response, the weight lifting off your shoulders. “Okay, cool. Now enough about me, let’s talk about you.”

And for the rest of the night, you two talked for what felt like hours, conversations flowing easily as you shared stories and laughter. The atmosphere felt warm and inviting, the outside rain creating a comforting backdrop to your connection. Finally, your name was called, and you picked up your order, the heavy rain seeping through your clothes once more, chilling your skin as you headed back to your car.

As the neon lights from the diner flickered in the wet streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night would etch itself into your memory, a turning point in the chaotic journey of your life.

tag list 🏷️: @dandelions4us @machetegirl109 @brat-at-the-disco @madisonbeerssecretwife @billiesrighthand @bilsdillldough @chocolatetigerpersona @hkkuugu @evermorewest @hannahluvsbillie

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish gf #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #astrcmoni

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90s-music-tourney · 1 month ago

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All songs have been chosen for the 90s music tourney

Lithium by Nirvana

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Ironic by Alanis Morrisette

She don't use Jelly by Flaming Lips

Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

What's Up by 4 non blondes

Peaches by Presidents of the United States

Criminal by Fiona Apple

Bitch by Meredith Brooks

Good Riddance (Time of your Life) by Green Day

… Baby One More Time by Britney Spears

Sober by TOOL

Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something

Wonderwall by Oasis

Love Fool by The Cardigans

baby got back by sir mix-a-lot

whatta man by salt n peppa

No Scrubs by TLC

Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

Losing my Religion by REM

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division

No Rain by Blind Melon

Friday I'm in Love by The Cure

Mr. Jones by Counting Crows

Californication by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Tubthumping by Chumbawamba

Zombie by Cranberries

Smooth By Santana Ft. Rob Thomas

One Week by Barenaked Ladies

Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer

All Star by Smash Mouth

Buddy Holly by Weezer

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion

Genie in a Bottle By Christina Aguilera

Barbie Girl by Aqua

Spice up your life by Spice Girls

Steal My Sunshine By Len

Cannonball by the Breeders

Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve

What is Love By haddaway

Follow you down by Gin Blossom

Freedom by George Michael

Nothing Compares to You by Sinead o Connor

Around the World by Daft Punk

Laid by James

Possum Kingdom by Toadies

Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger

Only Happy When it Rains by Garbage

Bullet with Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

Sunny Came Home by Shawn Colvin

Pepper by Butthole Surfers

Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham

Tim I wish you were born a girl by of Montreal

Voodoo by Godsmack

Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega

Livin La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Just a Girl by No Doubt

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

California Live by Tupac

I will Always Love you by Whitney Houston

Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman

Good Day by Ice Cube

Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg

Dragula by Rob Zombie

My Name is by Eminem

You Get What You Give by New Radicals

No Diggity by Blackstreet

Loser by Beck

pretty fly (for a white guy) by the offspring

What's my Age Again by Blink-182

I want it that way by the Backstreet Boys

Intergalactic By the Beastie Boys

Two Princes by Spin Doctor

Killing in the Name by Rage Against the Machine

Girls and Boys by Blur

Where is my mind by the Pixies

Closing Time by Semisonic

Creep by Radiohead

Say My Name by Destiny's Child

Jump Around by House of Pain

Check the Rhime by A Tribe Called Quest

November Rain by Guns n Roses

The Distance by CAKE

Every You, Every Me by Placebo

The Sign by Ace of Base

Vogue by Madonna

Don't Let Go (Love) by En Vogue

Mm Bop by Hansen

Believe By Cher

Mo Money, Mo Problems by Notorious BIG

Gold Soundz by Pavement

The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) by Missy Elliot

Common People by Pulp

Doll Parts by Hole

Gangsta's Paradise by Coolio

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lightofunova · 2 years ago

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THE FLEXING GANG!!!!!

[ # Just Stream Things ]

@harmonia-university @lustrous-dawn @lightofunova @symphonies-of-silver

#askdeoxys #deoxys #pokemon #pokeask #harmonia-university #lustrous-dawn #lightofunova #symphonies-of-silver #tor #tornadus #not my art #backstreet's back alright

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storm-leviosa-fanfics · 3 months ago

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Just One More Row

Here we go! My contribution to this year's @batfam-big-bang!

Huge thanks to my brilliant beta @apriljoy97 and my incredible artists @jennguyen-draws and @oluka-art for working with me on this - you're amazing, the lot of you.

Summary: From the bag, Alfred pulled a ball of yarn and two long straight knitting needles. Inwardly, Bruce groaned. He knew what Alfred was about to try and teach him and solemnly bade goodbye to his dignity. He'd had a good run, really, but even he could not escape the proliferation of 'old people hobbies'. or, After suffering a serious injury on patrol, Batman is grounded for the foreseeable future. Bruce, bored out of his mind, is in desperate need of something to do and so, in a fit of genius, Alfred teaches him to knit. And so begins Bruce’s journey of self-discovery and gift-giving… and also yarn. There is so much yarn in Wayne Manor now. Send help.

Chapter 1: *K1P1 repeat from *

It was 1am on a dismal Friday night, and Batman was not enjoying the fight.

Not that he normally enjoyed fighting, of course, it was merely a means to an end, but every movement felt a little slower on this night, a little more lethargic, more reluctant. It did not worry him too much: Batman was still far and away the better fighter than at least 90% of the idiots out on the street. Instead, he focussed on the tug of his muscles, the thump of his heart in his chest, the whooshing of the breath in his lungs, and fought with all he had. This was how Batman always fought, even when he was not enjoying it.

Half an hour ago, he had sent Robin home, the crusade against his son's sleep deprivation complete. Red Robin had stayed out in the field, but only because the next day was Saturday and everyone who was anyone knew not to expect Tim Drake to be up and about before noon on a weekend. With Nightwing in Bludhaven for the time being, and Red Hood taking a rare night away from the streets to focus on issues closer to home, the night was quiet. Oracle kept up a steady stream of ambient background noise in his earpiece, clacking keys and the occasional beep as a scan hit a match, but rarely spoke. Red Robin had his own cases to follow up on, but every so often he would strike up a conversation with Batman about something inane, like he was suddenly remembering that there were other human people around to be human people with. Unfortunately for him, Batman rarely responded.

With the night drawing to a close, Batman began to wrap up his patrol. He kept a careful eye on the narrow alleyways and dark underpasses as he loped his way back to the backstreet he had stashed the Batmobile on. It had not, unlike that night all those years before, been vandalised or scrapped for parts, for which Batman was undyingly grateful. When he turned the key in the ignition, however, it was to the helium-fueled monstrosity that was the Alvin and the Chipmunks version of 'We are Family'.

This was definitely a Dick prank. It had his dirty fingerprints all over it.

Grumbling to himself, Batman turned off the speakers, put the car in drive, and enjoyed the roar of the engine as he turned toward the bridge.

This late at night, there was no traffic. The streets, after hours of Batman and his allies clearing them, were quiet. All Batman could hear as he roared through the city was the engine, the occasional squeak of brakes, the clang of manhole covers under his wheels, grit on his tyres. It was not an unpleasant symphony to guide him home, and as he passed under the highway en route to Bristol, he began to relax.

It would prove to be a grave error of judgement.

The first time he woke, he was floating. A cloud perhaps? No. That made no sense. The sea? He hoped he wasn't floating in Gotham Harbour. He was getting too old for that amount of grime in his body. He floated, and drifted until he drifted back off to sleep.

"I got him, Bruce," a voice said the second time he woke. Did he know the voice? It sounded familiar. The way the vowels rolled off the tongue, and the cadence of the tone, they struck the precise part of his memory that (he assumed) dealt with that kind of thing. Like the reflex hammer test. "You don't have to worry about the case, or Gotham, or hunting anyone down. We've got it covered. Just focus on getting better." He could do that.

The third time he woke up, the cave was empty. He stared up at the ceiling, listened to the bats chittering and the inevitable pounding of his heart, and wiggled his toes. It hurt, but in that dull sort of way that implied he was on the heavy painkillers.

Bruce did not like the heavy painkillers. They made him stupid.

He did not try to move - despite the painkillers' best efforts he wasn't quite that stupid - but he did turn his head. At his side was a table with a jug of ice water, a pair of discarded nitrile gloves, and an empty plate. Someone had been here recently, then. He wondered who. Not Alfred, who would never leave dishes uncleaned; not Dick who was in Bludhaven, or Damian who did not eat sandwiches. Tim then? He remembered Tim's voice, he thought, when he was deeper under. But Tim would never leave him unsupervised while unconscious. Unless there was an emergency? That would explain the general silence. A sense of foreboding came over him like a the shadow of a cloud passing in front of the sun. Was that why there was no one here? What was happening? Was anyone hurt? Dead? What had happened while he was out?

Before he could struggle upright, a voice boomed from across the cave "Master Bruce, stay still!"

He stayed still. Froze, in fact, like a statue.

Batman, it was revealed, had sustained several broken bones, many bruises, some internal bleeding, and the kind of concussion that meant no screens for a week. This was... inconvenient. Batman had a relatively low caseload at that moment, but Bruce Wayne did in fact have reports and emails to write and documents to sign that could not wait but must, in the face of his injuries, be put to one side. It would not do for him to be seen working through injuries; he had a secret identity to keep, after all. Alfred, ever dutiful, called the office for him, told them an elaborate cover story that befitted the lifestyle of Bruce Wayne, and thus he was free of all responsibility until he was recovered.

He was going to go crazy.

For the first few days, Bruce was only barely aware of what was going on around him. Alfred had decided, against Bruce's protests, to keep him on painkillers that made everything just a little fuzzy around the edges, and when he wasn't it was because the dose was wearing off and the pain itself had a similar effect. He was not so stubborn that he could not admit, in the quiet of his own mind, that it hurt.

He slept a lot, in those first few days.

After that, he became aware of movement around him: Alfred popping in and out with medical supplies or food or water; Tim curled in the corner around his laptop, the screen lighting his face a pale white-blue; Dick in the hallway, shunting a protesting Damian down the hallway to bed at an hour Bruce hoped was reasonable; Damian himself, prowling in on silent leopard cub feet to perch at the end of his bed when he thought Bruce was sleeping. There were voices always in the corridor, but always they quieted before they reached his door. He began to wish they wouldn't. He wanted to hear everything, wanted to know what was going on in the world he couldn't go out into at the moment, wanted someone to report back to him. All his children were traitors who would rather follow Alfred's orders than his own (and he knew that it was Alfred who kept them from speaking to him in their vigils, who kept them quiet as they passed his door. He wasn't stupid). It began to chafe at him, the silence and the separation. He understood the need for calm and quiet convalescence - he was a realist and he had read multiple studies on this, hoping to find an alternative - but he increasingly found it did not help him. On the contrary, he was more worried, more tense, more (dare he say it) stressed, than he would have been had Dick just made a detour to his bedside every night and given him the rundown of what had happened on patrol. Instead, he had the occasional question from Tim relating to a case, always cold cases when outside the cave, never active ones, and his observations that the dark circles beneath Dick's eyes were growing darker, that Alfred's frown lines were growing deeper than his smile lines again, that Damian complained less every time he was ushered away from home.

His family were suffering, and he was stuck in bed.

It was enough to drive anyone mad. And Bruce, for all his acquaintance with aliens and demi-gods and otherworldly beings, was only human.

It was then, when he was about to drag himself down to the cave and suit himself up just to spare Dick the pain, that Alfred brought him something to do.

He had several weeks of recovery still to go, but he could read a screen now and could sit up in bed without too much pain, and Alfred had brought with him a jigsaw puzzle. Bruce did not enjoy jigsaw puzzles, and Alfred should have remembered this, but Bruce could forgive his lapse in memory after all the stress of the previous weeks. He suffered through one puzzle with Alfred and then begged him to bring something else.

Alfred next deposited Damian in his room with a request that they entertain each other for a few hours. They made stilted conversation for a short while, Damian performed a short piece on the violin, and then left him to his own devices. That stung a little.

For some reason that was beyond Bruce's comprehension, Jason stopped by with a book one afternoon while everyone else was out in the late autumn sunshine. He read in silence for a while until Bruce, tentatively, asked him a question about it. For ten minutes or more, they had a civil conversation - possibly their only civil conversation for a good few months - before Bruce messed it up by saying something that offended him, some faulty character analysis or positive remark about a terrible film adaptation, and suddenly their pleasant afternoon turned into a fight. When Jason left, he took the book with him and could not be enticed back by even Alfred's pleas.

Alfred allowed Tim to entertain him only once. Tim brought active case notes from downstairs and used Bruce as his rubber duck. They solved two cases in an afternoon and Bruce was feeling pretty good about himself. Using his brain had always helped when malaise or [fidgety-ness] kicked in and solving cases helped him feel useful. Alfred disagreed. Alfred despised their downstairs lives seeping into their upstairs lives, and besides, Bruce was meant to be resting. Tim was thus banned from Bruce's bedside until he could prove he could be responsible.

Dick stopped by every day, but not to do more than talk about nothing. It was normally in the ten minutes or so before Damian needed to be picked up, or just after dinner while everyone was busy before patrol. They talked about anything that wasn't Batman, because they could not talk like normal people about Batman. It was pleasant, but it did little to stop the itch beneath Bruce's skin or the way he could see Dick bottling all of his worry and hurt and anger and sadness deep inside. It helped, but only on the surface, and afterwards they were both a little the worst for it.

It was not until Steph had spent an afternoon doing spa treatments on his unprotesting form that Bruce put his foot down.

"No more," he told Alfred. "I understand what you are trying to do, and I appreciate it, but this isn't helping. I need something to do that is useful and productive and sending in the kids one at a time to entertain me is not either of those things." Except Tim he thought, but Tim got banned. Alfred considered his request with his usual grave look, hummed thoughtfully to himself, and then left to do whatever Alfred Pennyworths do when they are not imprisoning injured Bruce Waynes.

At half past three in the afternoon, as the sun began its slow slant towards the horizon and away from Bruce's window, Alfred returned. With him, he had a cloth canvas bag - visibly full but with no defined shape - and a binder full of papers. It was not a canvas bag Bruce recognised, although considering how infrequently he accompanied Alfred on errands this was unsurprising. From the bag, Alfred pulled a ball of yarn and two long straight knitting needles. Inwardly, Bruce groaned. He knew what Alfred was about to try and teach him and solemnly bade goodbye to his dignity. He'd had a good run, really, but even he could not escape the proliferation of 'old people hobbies'. Alfred set the yarn on his lap and stabbed the needles nearly all the way through, before diving back into the bag for another ball of yarn and another pair of needles.

"We'll start you off with something simple," Alfred told him, in a voice that implied he knew exactly what Bruce had just been thinking, "but it won't be long before you can knit any number of useful things. I hear young Master Damian was complaining about the bitter Gotham wind on his ears last night."

Picking up just the ball of yarn, Alfred gestured for Bruce to do the same. It was soft in his hands, slightly staticky in that way that acrylic fabrics often were, and Bruce held it like a baby bird, unsure of what to do next. Alfred unwound some of his ball, and clicked his tongue impatiently.

"We'll start with a slip knot, then long-tail cast on. Once you can manage that, we'll do some garter stitch until you're comfortable with your needles." Those were certainly words. Bruce turned them over in his brain, recognised their sounds but not their meaning, and furrowed his brow.

"You'll see," Alfred told him, instead of explaining what on earth he was talking about. "First you are going to take up your yarn a little way from the bottom, like this, and then make a loop like so," he demonstrated as he spoke, with sure, steady movements that spoke of years of practice. Bruce copied, feeling unsure and heavy handed.

"Exactly, Alfred praised. "Now take your working yarn and thread a loop of it through." Bruce stared at him in horror. Working yarn? Just another word he could not even guess the meaning of. He said as much to Alfred.

"That's the yarn attached to your skein Master Bruce, do keep up. Now you need to pull it all nice and tight and there you go. A slip knot." Alfred had a slip knot, to be sure. Bruce had...a mess. He tried again: made a loop, threaded some yarn through, pulled tight, made a knot that did not look like Alfred's. He sighed. Already, this skill was not for him.

After a few more failed attempts, Alfred simply took Bruce's hands in his and moved them to make the knot. Then, much to Bruce's protestations, he untied it and told Bruce to try it again. So that Bruce could do it for himself rather than relying on Alfred every time, he said. To his surprise, Bruce found it easier this time, and knew sort of where to put his hands and where each strand of yarn went. Alfred hummed approvingly and began to explain casting on.

Bruce was lost again within moments. He wondered when knitting would start making sense.

By the time Bruce was casting on correctly, the sun was dipping below the window sill and dimming light had Alfred looking at the clock.

"Goodness, is that the time?" he exclaimed in horror. "Master Bruce, I am sorry to leave you but I must prepare supper. Please continue to practice your casting on. When you think you can, cast on forty stitches and leave them on your needle. We'll begin with knit stitch tomorrow." With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Bruce with a ball of yarn, two needles, and only a vague idea of what he was doing. He shrugged, seeing nothing better to do with his time, and wrapped some yarn around his thumb to cast on another stitch.

True to his word, Alfred returned the next day with breakfast, coffee, and his yarn and needles. He did not come in politely, rather strode in and pulled back the curtains so the morning sun would stream into the room and rouse Bruce from his relaxing doze. After the coffee had been drunk and breakfast eaten, Alfred picked up his needles, deftly cast on a number of stitches, and began the arduous task of teaching Bruce knit stitch.

"Always keep your knitting in your left hand and your yarn in your right," he told Bruce as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"But yesterday you told me to hold the yarn in my left hand and my needle in my right?" Bruce lamented. Alfred was not amused by his complaints.

"That was for casting on, now we are doing knit stitch. Now the needle in your right hand you insert through the stitch from front to back..."

Bruce tried to follow it, he really did, but it just could not penetrate the fog of the early morning, and he stared dazedly down at the neat row of cast on stitches on his needle. He picked it up, with a hand that felt clumsy and disjointed, and held the other needle and the yarn in the other. It was a little like using chop sticks for the first time, he decided: fiddly and unnatural to him, but perhaps would one day become muscle memory. He poked at the yarn with the needle. Alfred definitely said from the front to the back, right? But what side of the stitch? Or did he mean something else entirely? He glanced over at Alfred, who was merrily knitting row after row of neat, quick stitches. Should he ask him to slow down? But that would mean admitting defeat. He refused to be defeated by some yarn and a needle.

He pushed the needle through the stitch. That hadn't been so hard. What came next?

He wrapped the yarn around the needle, made sure to lock it in tight where the needles crossed. It... didn't look too incorrect at the moment. Perhaps he was doing something right after all.

He pulled the needle out...

The stitch unravelled.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, and immediately flushed scarlet when Alfred admonished him for it. It did cause Alfred to pay closer attention to Bruce's struggle, however, which he was grateful for.

"You were almost there," he said, "you just need to bring the right-hand needle to the front before slipping the stitch off the left-hand needle." It sounded so simple when he said it like that. "Try again. I'll help you."

Alfred did help him, again and again, until Bruce could manage a whole row of knit stitch on his own without dropping any of the stitches. At this point, Alfred left him in favour of housework and errands, but not without first instructing him to 'call upon me should you need anything, Master Bruce.' Bruce was determined not to need him. He turned the needle in his hand, inserted the other into the first stitch, and started another row. Then, when he got to the end of the row, he began another. And then another. Finally, after almost an hour and ten entire rows of knit stitch, he stopped. This was what Alfred had told him to do, but Alfred had left and could not tell him the next step. It grated on him, that he could make no more progress, but he swallowed it down, and instead picked up his phone. One of his boys would surely be willing to entertain him for a short while, or perhaps Cass or Stephanie. Failing that, one of them would no doubt collect a book for him from the library. Alfred would hate him straining his eyes so soon after a concussion, but needs must. There was precious little else to do trapped in his room, and at least a book was not a bright screen.

Just as he was about to press send, Alfred returned, a platter with cookies, a tea pot, and a pair of mugs in his hands. Settling himself back in place, he smilled at Bruce's progress.

"Well done, Master Bruce," he told him, then picked up his own needles. "Time for purl stitch, I think."

Purl stitch was Bruce's nemesis, he decided very quickly. Where knit stitch had come comparatively quickly, once he got used to the motions, purl stitch felt unnatural. It did not matter how many times Alfred told him, in that smooth and calm voice of his, that "it is just knit stitch but opposite," he just could not wrap his head, or his hands, around it. Time after time, he messed it up, dropped the stitch, wrapped the yarn around too many times, or didn't wrap it at all. Alfred showed him again, every time, though he must have been getting bored and frustrated, and even moved Bruce's hands for him a time or two. It did not help. It took over an hour for Bruce to correctly do a row of purl stitch, only to be told by Alfred that the next row muct be knitted instead.

"But I was just getting the hang of it," he groaned, about ready to put the whole thing away and give up.

"You see how your rows of knit stitch have made this wavy pattern?" Alfred told him, gesturing with his needle to the solid rectangle of knitting Bruce had already created. He nodded. "That is called garter stitch. Alternating rows of knit and purl are called stockinette and it looks more like your typical knitwear." That made a little more sense, he supposed. "After a row of knit stitch, you can do another row of purl and so on and so forth."

Bruce sighed, and picked up the needles for another row of knit stitch.

By the time they had repeated this three or four times, Bruce was more comfortable with purl stitch and could see what Alfred meant by his explanation of garter stitch and stockinette. It fascinated him, how simple yarn could make something like this, how wrapping and looping and pulling on a needle could make such sturdy fabric, how different variations, putting stitches in a different order, could make a completely new texture or pattern. Alfred instructed him to continue in stockinette until he had about ten inches of it, and showed him how to use the first knuckle of his finger to measure. That was another thing Bruce had never known or considered. He knew, of course, that there were certain proportions of the body that remained immutable, but he had always assumed that they were ratios, not precise measurements. If Alfred had not shown him how to measure inches using only his fingers, he would never have considered trying it. Inwardly, his mind was already churning, considering how this could be useful as Batman, but outwardly, he continued with his knitting, squinting in concentration until the movements became muscle memory.

Alfred had turned on the radio and, between ads, old songs played that Bruce remembered from his youth. Between that and the cookies and tea, his afternoon felt golden, the kind of memory that he would squirrel away in his brain for the days when mustering up his courage and drive was a chore. After the weather forecast, the radio presenter softly introduced a rerun of an old radio drama, and Bruce was quickly sucked in, forgetting to concentrate on the movement of his hands. It did not matter overmuch: Bruce had always been adept at learning to use his body in new and unusual ways and this was no different. He blocked out the noise from outside the room, the distant sirens from the city, the clatter and chaos of his children enjoying their time in the sun, and savoured an afternoon knitting with Alfred.

He finished his ten inches just as Alfred had to leave to organise dinner, but Jason had curled up in the window seat sometime in the mid afternoon, so Bruce was not without company once everything had been packed away. They discussed Jason's latest read, a movie that Dick wanted to take Damian to see at the movie theatre downtown, a new recipe Jason intended to try, and nothing related to their masked personas. It was the only way, with Jason, to remain civil. When Alfred brought Bruce a tray with his dinner on, he requested Jason join the rest of the family at the dinner table, and Bruce tried not to ache in his absence.

After dinner, Tim materialised by his bedside, laptop tucked under his arm. He was not patrolling that night, he claimed, because he'd traded a patrol with Steph in exchange for covering her next week when she had an exam. Instead, he sat near Bruce and tapped away at an expenses report for WE. Occasionally he asked Bruce questions, although they both knew Tim knew the answers, so he'd feel included. Neither of them mentioned the knitting on the bedside table, or the bandages still wrapped around Bruce's body.

The next morning, Alfred brought him breakfast and showed him how to decrease the number of stitches on his needles.

"You knit two together," he explained, and guided Bruce's hand to do just that. It was easy, Bruce decided, and so it did not take so long for him to do some evenly spaced decreases every few rows until he only had a fraction of his original stitches on his needle. With every row, he could knit faster, and not just because he was growing better at it.

"What do I do now?" he asked when he had only 4 stitches left on his needle.

"Now," said Alfred, with a smile he did not normally let loose, "you bind off."

It was terrifying to watch and more terrifying to do, but once it was over, Bruce had something resembling a wonky, flattened, stretched out hat. Alfred, upon seeing Bruce's confusion, handed him a thick needle and gestured to the trailing yarn at the bottom. Oh, Bruce realised, and was relieved because this was something he could do without being shown.

The final product, Bruce could see, was in fact a hat, and it did not look quite so bad as Bruce had expected from his first ever piece of knitwear. It was lumpy and mishappen, loose in some places and tight in others, but it was hat-shaped and bulky and perfect for the coming winter. But it wasn't for him.

"Alfred," Bruce called, as the man in question got up to leave, "I want you to have this."

Alfred's voice was choked as he replied, though he did not acknowledge it.

"Thank you, Master Bruce. That is very kind of you." It was what Alfred used to say to him when he brought him drawings from school or cuttings from the garden to liven up his living quarters. It was what he had said when Bruce offered him a pay rise, after Batman took over so much of his life, though he had not accepted it. It was simply what he said whenever Bruce offered him something he loved dearly, but did not feel he deserved.

Bruce wanted him to feel he deserved it.

Even after Bruce had recovered from his concussion, Alfred wanted to keep him away from vigilantism and his kids, traitorous revolting children that they were, had betrayed Bruce in supporting him. He could leave the manor, could go to work at WE, could venture into the cave to work on cases or on the batcomputer, but no further. He could not don the cape and cowl just yet.

Bruce remained bored.

Except, he had something to do now didn't he? Something to occupy his hands and his thoughts, something productive to do that had nothing to do with Batman. He recalled the sensation of soft yarn beneath the pads of his fingers, the furrow of his brow as he concentrated on getting the right stitches in the right order, and resolved to knit something else. Just to tide him over until he was fully recovered. But what to knit? The easy answer would be to knit another hat - he already knew exactly how to do it after all - but that felt lazy. It felt impersonal and pointless. He mulled it over for so long he appeared distracted in his afternoon meetings. Tim noticed and told the others so they could spend the afternoon and evening mocking him for it. Fuck.

He kept considering it, but moved the thought to the back of his mind where it would be out of the way. That evening, Dick and Damian appeared in good spirits over dinner, discussing a stakeout they had planned, and the ice cream they had planned for after, but Bruce heard them return disheartened in the early hours of the morning, and through the gap he opened, he could see Damian shuddering with cold in the hallway. It had been a cold night, but not unseasonably so, except for the bitter north wind. Damian's cape had a hood, but it rarely stayed up and did little to protect his face from the elements...

Bruce was going to knit Damian the warmest, cosiest scarf he had ever seen.

Contrary to common belief, there were areas of Gotham that were relatively safe, even among the poor neighbourhoods people spent a lifetime trying to leave. There were parts of the city where the streets were wide enough not to brush against someone walking the other way, where the buildings were diligently looked after and the grafiti washed away as soon as it was put up. It was one of these streets that Bruce Wayne strolled down on a clear autumn day, face obscured by the brim of a baseball cap for a team he didn't even remember the name of. It was not the Gotham Knights, of that he was certain. The bell over the door jingled cheerfully as he slipped inside and made any attempt at subtlety useless, but Bruce didn't mind. He was here without Alfred and therefore required assistance. All around him was a kaleidoscope of colours, some bright, some pastel, some dark, some sparkly, some not colours at all. And above it all the lights were bright enough to blind. At least the noise of the city was fainter here.

"Can I help you sir?" the voice was surprisingly young, he thought. But why should a shop worker be old just because of the shop they worked in? It was a silly thought, and Bruce flicked it from his mind with the disdain he would show a speck of lint on his best suit jacket.

"I need to buy some yarn," he told the shop worker. Their name tag read 'Carly' in a clear, no-nonsense font. Carly smiled crookedly, the way Narrows kids smiled, and asked,

"What kind? We've got a selection." Bruce drew a complete blank. He knew the colours he wanted, certainly, but this implied that yarn could be more complicated than just colours. Seeing the look on his face, Carly continued, "do you know what weight you need? Colours? Do you have a specific fibre in mind?"

Colours. Bruce could tell her the colours.

"Red," he said, "and yellow, and black. Like Robin's uniform."

"Okay," she said, drawing out the last syllable. "Anything else? What project is it for?"

"A scarf," he told her shortly. "A big one." She blinked and seemed to realise that he was not being short with her on purpose, he just didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"Oh! Well for a thick winter scarf you'll probably want some chunky yarn, worsted at the lightest. I personally love alpaca for a scarf, but wool is also super warm. If you're looking for something cheaper we've got some nice acrylics though?" At the end of all this she took in a huge breath, as if saving air to answer another inane question.

"The money is no problem. The scarf is a gift. Whatever you think is best." Carly closed her eyes and Bruce could imagine her mentally wondering what she had done to deserve this. If it was torturous for him, he could only imagine what it was like for her.

"Okay. Alpaca, maybe a wool blend. Chunky. Yellow, red and black, like the Robin uniform. Shall we go look? I can show you where it is, in case you need more," Carly said. She was mostly talking to herself, so Bruce almost missed the question. He nodded and she turned towards the back of the shop.

It did not take them long to find some suitable yarn for Bruce's project. He had vastly underestimated how much he would need, suddenly juggling ten balls of yarn in three different colours. "You might need more later," Carly had said, "but this should be enough to give you a good start." Everything about this excursion was intimidating. The terminology Carly threw around was completely new to him; the walls filled with yarn were overstimulating; the choices were overwhelming. By the time they reached the counter, he was in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings.

"Do you have a pattern for this?" Carly asked on their way, and Bruce started. He had forgotten, somehow, that she was next to him.

"No?" he said, as if it were a question not a statement of fact.

"Ah. Well. You probably should. It would make your project a lot easier." And they were off again on another hunt, this time for a piece of paper that Bruce was sure he could find online.

Well over an hour after he first entered the yarn shop, Bruce stumbled back onto the street, squinting slightly at the afternoon light and clutching several plastic bags in his fists. He had acquired yarn. He had even bought some new needles and a pattern that he could barely parse. Time to go home and knit.

#batfam fanfiction #batfam big bang 2024 #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #knitting #fluff #batfamily #fun fact the hat that bruce knits in this is ALSO the first thing i ever knitted #i still have it

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