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lemoncrushh · 6 months ago

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Fratboy Harry - Part 7

Summary: Harry Styles was a boy with a reputation, one that you couldn’t care less about. Yet one night at a frat party changed everything.

Warnings: Smut, drinking, angst, a very cocky Harry. 18+ ONLY!!

Part 7 Word Count: 2323

STORY PAGE

I'm sorry.

I swear, she's not my girlfriend.

If you'd answer my calls I could try to explain.

Will you please talk to me?

These texts and more filled your phone all evening, but you left them unacknowledged. He'd tried calling you several times as well, but you never answered. Finally, as you laid in bed, your mind wandering though you were trying your best to read your English chapter, Harry sent one more text.

Fine. I know you're mad. Maybe you just need some time to cool off. I'll leave you alone. Call me when you wanna talk.

The next morning you managed to make it to class despite a restless night. You'd probably gotten a total of three hours' sleep, and you prayed to God you wouldn't be quizzed on that English chapter because you had no idea what you'd read.

You didn't know why you'd let this boy get to you, but somehow he had. Hell, you didn't even like him at first. Now not only was he invading your mind, but you'd allowed him yourself you get angry and hurt over something that had nothing to do with you. Something that shouldn't have surprised you and you should have seen coming. Dammit.

Coming out of the English building after stopping to talk to your professor, you were zipping up your backpack so you didn't see him at first. Lifting your head, you spotted him on the sidewalk, a small group of people gathered around him. Pulling your backpack over your shoulder, you walked briskly, trying to get past him before he saw you.

"Y/N!" he called.

Shit.

You walked faster, your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead of you. Hearing puffs of breath as he jogged to catch up you, you rolled your eyes. He called your name again, pleading you to wait. You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him.

"Hey," he said. "Didn't you hear me?"

"I did," you narrowed your eyes.

His shoulders dropped in disappointment. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I don't feel like talking," you remarked.

"Will you at least hear me out?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Fine. I'm listening. But you have about two minutes because I have to get to my next class."

Harry stepped closer to you, lifting his hands like he was about to touch you but changed his mind.

"She's not my girlfriend, okay?"

"You've said that."

"She has a thing for me," he added as though that just cleared everything up.

"Apparently," you raised your brows.

His eyes shifted away from you as he tried to think of the next thing to say. Biting his lip, he looked back at you.

"We slept together once," he muttered. "It meant more to her than it did to me."

You glared at him in disgust. Was this guy for real? If it wasn't for the curiosity taking over, making you want to hear the whole story, you would have stomped off.

"I know that's an awful thing to say," he admitted. "And I don't mean it like it sounds. I wasn't a jerk to her afterwards, I know that's what you're thinking."

"Don't tell me what I'm thinking," you scoffed. "You have no fucking clue what I'm thinking."

"Fine, fine!" he held up his hands. "I'm just trying to explain."

You pursed your lips. "Go on."

Harry sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "She kept calling me and texting me. She was a sweet girl, so I didn't wanna hurt her. But I could tell she wanted more than I did. She started showing up to all the parties, following me around. Anything I was doing, she'd ask if she could come along. She found out where I lived and somehow got the impression that we were a couple."

You stared at him incredulously as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I still don't really know how it happened. She got it into her head that she's in love with me and that we belong together. I felt bad at first and tried my best to let her down easy. I told her we could be friends."

"Oh yeah, that's what every girl wants to hear," you rolled your eyes.

"I didn't wanna be an asshole!" he exclaimed. "I know you think I'm one, but I'm not."

You opened your mouth to retort but he held up his hand. "I know, don't tell you what you're thinking."

You sighed and uncrossed your arms, gripping your backpack.

"So what, she's stalking you now?" you inquired.

"Sort of, I guess. She won't stop calling or texting me, even after I've had to be harsh with her. She shows up at my door unexpected. After you left yesterday? She came by again. She actually said she forgives me and that we can work it out."

"Eesh," you sounded. You weren't sure who you felt more sorry for, him or her.

"You asked why I don't just block her number. I tried that. That was when she starting coming over. I'm trying to keep tabs just in case I do have to call the police. I'm being a jerk to her now so hopefully she'll listen and finally give up."

You sucked in your lips, allowing his words to sink in. You wanted to believe him. But what if he was just making it up? You stared down at your watch and cleared your throat.

"Your two minutes are up," you muttered.

Harry swallowed. "Listen, you probably don't believe me, but I just wanted to explain."

"Fair enough," you nodded. You gestured toward the sidewalk. "I gotta go."

Turning away, you heard him say your name again. You sighed, looking back at him. He stepped closer to your again, reaching for your hand. You surprised yourself by allowing him to do so, staring down at it as he threaded his fingers through yours.

"You might not believe this either," he murmured. "But I wasn't lying when I said I liked you. And you definitely do something to me."

You blinked, raising your head to look him in the eye. You felt him lean forward and you almost thought he was going to kiss you.

"Really do have to go," you whispered, pulling away from his grip.

You didn't look back as you hurried toward your next class, for which you were certainly already late. Your heart pumped in your chest with anxiety. You heard someone else call his name followed by a hearty group laughter.

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to so badly. But you couldn't get the poor girl's face and sound of her cries out of your head. And as you sat down at your desk, that's when it dawned on you.

That could have easily been you.

Three days later you and Mandy sat at the kitchen table, you with your nose in your Algebra book, Mandy on her laptop. You'd clued her in on everything that had gone down with Harry, though she still wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You know, there are some crazy stalker girls out there," she commented.

You lifted your head, dropping your pencil. "Are we still talking about this?"

"I'm just saying," she peeked over her computer. "I mean, he is a popular guy. He probably has girls chasing him left and right. She might have gotten caught up in his charm and turned all psycho on him."

"Or maybe he was just giving me a load of crap so I wouldn't think he's a cocky asshole," you stated.

You heard Mandy click her tongue. "I don't think so..." she sang.

You rolled your eyes, resolving to ignore her so you could finish your math homework. The truth was...you didn't know what the truth was. You had so many conflicting thoughts and emotions it was driving you mad. And the fact that Harry hadn't bothered to get in touch with you since you'd run into him on Monday, just added fuel to the fire. Granted, you hadn't called or texted him either. But something told you it wouldn't make any difference. You'd still be just as confused.

When Friday came and went and you still hadn't heard a peep out of Harry, you'd decided you'd given up. You were just some other girl to him, another lay. Whatever, so be it.

You told Mandy you'd go to the party with her Saturday night, but that you weren't going to stay long. If she wanted, she could get a ride home with someone else, or she could call you later when she was ready to leave and you'd come get her.

"But it might be super late," she whined. "You'll be asleep."

"No I won't," you declared. "I haven't slept in days."

As soon as you walked into the house, you knew he was there. You couldn't see him, but you knew. Mandy made a beeline for the kitchen, saying she was ready to get drunk. You followed her until you reached the doorway. You heard someone say his name followed by a cheer. Frozen in your spot, you listened for his accent, but when it didn't come, you changed direction and headed for the nearby beer keg.

A pleasant looking guy in a University t-shirt was standing beside it, pumping for a handful of people. He smiled at you before handing you a red Solo cup.

"Thanks," you grinned before bringing it to your lips. You gazed at him over the rim of the cup as he gave you the once over and then winked.

Mandy nearly scared you when she came around the corner and grabbed your arm.

"He's here," she whispered loudly.

"I know," you remarked.

"He's just with some buddies though," she added. "I don't think that Jamie girl is here."

You shrugged. "So what if she is."

"Have to say..." she paused, bringing her cup to her mouth. "I think it's kinda shitty that he shows up here without calling you first."

"Mandy," you turned to face her, "what did you expect?"

She gave you a look of disappointment and sympathy, her mouth scrunched up to the side of her face.

You stayed for a little over an hour, the one beer the only drink you consumed. You were bored. And trying to avoid running into Harry was not your idea of fun. You found Mandy chatting with the cute keg guy, announcing that you were leaving. She pouted but told you she'd most likely get a ride home.

Just as you were heading for the door, you caught sight of a blonde girl, her eyes wide like she was scanning the room for someone.

Jamie.

Curious, you stood still as you watched her make her way to the kitchen. You followed her, only stopping in the doorway. You saw Harry leaning against the counter, a cup to his mouth. You didn't miss the fact that he raised his eyebrows the second Jamie walked in. But you weren't exactly sure if it was because he was happy to see her, or just an acknowledgement. When she walked up to him, however, you noticed he didn't say a word to her. Instead, he turned to his friend next to him and began chatting.

Okay, so maybe he was ignoring her. But it was also very strange to you that he didn't make any move to tell her to leave him alone. Jamie reached for a cup then, filling it with ice to make her own drink. Then she returned to Harry's side, brushing her fingers up his hand that rested on the counter. He didn't even flinch. Deciding you'd seen enough, you turned on your heels and exited.

That evening you'd just finished brushing your teeth and were getting ready for bed when a new text popped up.

So are you gonna continue to avoid me?

You sighed as you began to text him back. He must have known you were at the party.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about this silent treatment. You can't tell me you're enjoying it.

There you go again, assuming you know what I think.

Then tell me.

Tell you what?

What you think.

You paused for a moment, gathering the words in your head before typing them out.

I think you're an asshole. But not because of the reasons you think I do. I think you're a phony. You want people to like you, but you also want them to fear you. You want them to think you're a cocky asshole but you're really not. I think you slept with some girl who really liked you knowing you didn't really like her, just because it fit your persona. I'm not sure if she's stalking you or what, but I think you get off on it because it makes you look like a big shot.

You saw the three dots indicating Harry was typing, but you were surprised when all he replied was one word.

Wow.

You decided to continue typing, feeling liberated that you were finally getting your feelings out.

To be honest, Harry, I don't know exactly where I fit in to all of this. You say you like me, but I don't know what to believe. Maybe you do, or maybe it's again just something you feel like you have to do because it's who you want people to think you are. Like I'm some conquest or a notch in your belt. You have a reputation to uphold. But I do know one thing. I hardly even know you. And I'm not going to waste my time worrying and wondering about some fratboy who may or may not have some other girl in the wings.

I told you I'm not in a fraternity.

You laughed out loud, but not out of humor. He was unbelievable.

Goodbye, Harry.

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onekindredspirit · 1 year ago

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This photo is the last remaining evidence that I once stood before the mystic portal of the O.K. Corral. Everything else except memory has been taken with time, and so I deposit this remnant here in salt and light and code. The O.K. Corral was a crumbling, condemned 5 bedroom Victorian villa that featured in my life when I was young. I rented it with a friend for, initially, $40 per week. That price was later negotiated down to 'rent free'. Mr. Fox, our landlord, was seen only once more, and on that occasion he tried to sell the place to us for $10,000. The current market value is around $1.5 million ... but money isn't everything. The O.K. Corral was a 'Dude Ranch' and the definition of that is "... an all-inclusive immersive vacation that includes lodgings, meals, horseback riding, fishing and hiking and more." Okay, there was no horseback riding, fishing or hiking but there were other things going on ... and more. Interestingly, the word 'dude' has changed meaning over the last 140 years. Today 'dude' means something like 'bro' but back in the 1880's, when 'Dude Ranches' first began, it was slang for an urbanite. As I write, things continue to fall into place.

I had known my friend since I was 6 years old. I don't think I liked him much back then. He was an extrovert and pushy when getting the painting resources at school. I didn't sit with him anyway because I was a 'foreigner' and I had to sit next to the only other foreigner in the class, Elizabeth Federinko, a Ukrainian girl who couldn't speak English and drew horses all day. I think it was the horse drawing that eventually drove me crazy or maybe it was something else ... possibly bad blood. Anyway, I'll call my friend 'Bukowski'. By the time we were 20 years old I quite liked the guy. Sure there were other arenas of male competition but I found myself better equipped to deal with those. The cool thing about pushy people is that they make thing happen and 'Bukowski' was no exception. For example, he could cook. We had a litany of weirdos and 'freaks' pass through the O.K. Corral. A note to the sensitive - to be called a freak back then was the highest form of compliment in our subculture. It was all a little crazy and you would be disappointed in me if I told you about life at the O.K. Corral, so I won't. Let's talk about something else. One day 'Bukowski' decided to move to another region of New Zealand, some place warmer that would better suit a boho gentleman with alcohol thinned blood. I have rarely lived alone but for a week I did until one morning I was woken at 1am by someone sitting on the end of my bed and talking to me. I wasn't clear as to what she was saying but I wasn't at all concerned as this was probably 'normal' when you don't lock your doors. Realising I was now awake she turned on the light.

I didn't know her but I knew who she was. I'd seen her riding around the city on a Norton Commando motorcycle which had impressed me because of her small size and once she had smiled at me as we passed each other on a city street. I remember that smile, it was powerful enough to stop and turn me around. It was a beautiful smile. The following morning she returned with her possessions and we shared my bed. I feel I had been looking for this person most of my life but when you dream someone into your life there's a danger that the results may be "... reductive and diminutive and I think basically misogynistic ..." as the writer Zoe Kazan once said in an interview when discussing the 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl' trope. Clementine, in the movie 'The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' warns Joel - "Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours". One thing though, I was never quite sure if she was my projection or if I was, in fact, the projection of her own desires. But I'm comfortable with that. We lived together. She taught me a lot. I gave her love in return. 'Clementine' eventually moved to Australia, a place better suited to her large personality. Years later I was sitting having an espresso at Fidel's Cafe on Cuba Street when 'Clementine' walked past the large plate-glass window. I had only a glimpse of her face but from that brief moment I sensed that she was not happy and that her health was not good. I didn't get up and rush out to catch up with her. I didn't run after her seeking some meaningful reunion. I let her go ... and watched as she disappeared into the crowd. Sometime in the not too distant past I had discovered that the person I had been looking for all through my youth and into later life was myself. I let 'Clementine' go. But the night I wrote this I dreamed of 'Clementine' and it was a beautiful dream.

- One Kindred Spirit

#original writing #photographers on tumblr #original photography #subculture

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 1 year ago

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Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 13]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol, Attempted Kidnapping, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 8.8K

(13/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: IT'S FINALLY DONEEEE this is crazy how many chapters have I updated this year? LMFAO Not fully proofread by my awakened mind yet but I did run it through grammarly lol I'll give it a proper look later

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2012

Things were different. Lonelier. And maybe a bit sadder. You stood in front of the room that now loomed over you, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You opened it, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang, and you waited, you waited for the usual ‘Get out of my room!’ But none came. And there hasn’t been one for months now. You walked inside, still a mess and untouched as it was the night before he left, and you sat in the middle of it, hugging your legs close to your chest.

“There’s another party downstairs,” you said out loud. “I was thinking I should go for a walk, should I?” You wondered aloud. No answer. No 'Wait for me,' no 'ask Dick to go with you.' Just silence. You just wanted a quiet place to escape the noise, what with the gala going on downstairs and your father acting in front of the masses, you just didn’t feel up to it. Besides, Dick wasn’t even there to keep you company this time. You sat in the silence for a while, looking around the room as if he was hiding somewhere and was about to jump out to scare you. But no surprises came. Instead, you got up, took one of the dusty books from the shelf, and left the room.

“Oh, hey!” A younger boy stood in front of you, he looked vaguely familiar. “Could I ask you a quick question?”

“Yeah, the party’s just downstairs, walk down the corridor and you’ll hit the ballroom eventually,” you answered.

“No, it’s something else,” he shakes his head.

“Ah, the bathroom is also downstairs right next to the ballroom,” you cut him off and turned to walk into your room.

“(Y/N) Wayne. I know who your father is, we need to talk.” That got your attention. You stopped with your hand on the doorknob and sighed.

“Right, he’s a businessman, nothing else,” you nodded. But the boy’s face remained grim. “Let’s go somewhere private,” you nudged your head further down the hall and he followed. Once you were both situated in a secluded part of the mansion, he spoke up.

“I’m Tim Drake,” he introduces himself. You shook his hand. Tim Drake, a couple years your junior, you've seen him around in your family's galas before but you've never really talked to him, you were always more preoccupied with your brothers or too busy taking pictures to go up to the boy who tended to stay on the sidelines more.

“I know.” Now you remembered him, he’d gone to a few of your father’s galas before.

“Oh, cool, I was worried for a second, we didn’t usually talk much,” he says, “you were always with two older guys.”

“My brothers.”

“I know that,” Tim shrugs. “I tracked you down because I had a favor to ask you,” he says.

“Sure,” you agreed only as a formality. The Waynes and the Drakes were somewhat of friends. Tim glanced around.

“Batman needs a Robin,” he says quietly. You wondered how he figured it out. There was no point in hiding anything either, he must have been really smart to have figured out your identities, even people who worked right next to your dad couldn’t have deduced it. “Don’t try to deny it, I have pictures,” he says. You shook your head.

“If you’re asking me then that means that Dick said no, huh?”

“Right away,” Tim mutters.

“I can’t give you an answer,” you told him. But Tim’s eyes seemed to shine, as if he’d found a treasure he’d been looking for. Why he was so desperate, you didn’t know. “Well, either way, you figured them out, I’m sure you can think of something too just in case,” you replied bluntly.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he says. “Even just thinking about it is enough.”

“Why do you feel like you should do this, though?” You asked him.

“I…” Tim hesitated. “I’m sure you know as well as I do the kind of rampage Batman has been on in the city.” You were. Recently, you were certain, that your father and the one behind the mask are two different people now.

“And you think having a Robin would help him?” You muttered.

“Yes, I do, and who better than his own daughter?” He asks. You looked away and toward your clasped hands.

“You may be asking the wrong person, Tim, I have no qualifications to be a Robin,” you say.

“Better you than none,” Tim insists.

“I could never do what they did,” you shut your eyes. “The Batman... he scares me,” you mumbled, clutching onto the book in your arms a little tighter now.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says. You held your hand up to stop him.

“I’m sorry too, Tim, this isn’t a good time,” you shook your head, stood up, and you left. You admired Tim’s good intentions, truly, but they paled in comparison to the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind right now. You just lost a brother. Your father didn’t want to listen to you. Your other brother was nowhere to be found, and that left you to mull all this over.

You felt lost.

Lost in your thoughts, and all alone. This was the first time, the first in a long time, where you once again felt alienated in this manor. Not a vigilante and barely a Wayne, was donning the Robin mantle what you needed to do to be seen again?

You didn’t know.

2022

The three brothers climbed onto the train after Damian pulled an insignia out of his pocket.

“The Captain sends her regards,” Damian says to the guards. They salute and march away after leading them to a private cabin, one that Damian shut and locked as soon as the other two were situated.

“Alright, Damian, you first,” Tim invites him. Damian nods.

“After that man teleported me here, I woke up on a battlefield, it was… very different than the ones we’ve seen before,” he says. “Everything in this world is different from ours, laws, people, everything,” he says. “I don’t even know where to start for you two. I’ve been here for almost two months now and I’m still learning things.”

“Two months?!” Tim shouts. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian, you went missing two weeks ago,” Jason corrects.

“Weeks? No, no, I’ve been here for a while now,” Damian shakes his head. Tim pulls out the remains of the watch. “Where did you get that?”

“(Y/N) left it behind before she left,” Tim mumbles.

“This is it. This is the watch that the stranger had too,” Damian takes the watch and opens it.

“So this is the culprit then,” Tim looks down at it. “Maybe we could reverse it somehow to get home.”

“Not in this state, it won’t,” Damian shuts the watch in his hands and places it in his pocket. “I’ve been trying to do my own investigation, but without the watch and with the constant surveillance I’ve been drawing blanks.”

“Superveillance?” Tim, always the skeptic.

“To avoid any unnecessary complications, I had to hide in plain sight, but that greatly restricted my movements,” Damian grumbles. “Now you two, how did you figure it out?”

“We were tugging it around, and somehow it activated the mechanism inside of it,” Tim explains.

“Before I was transported, the man swang it back and forth, maybe moving the watch is key to activating it,” Damian hypothesizes.

“Movement of some kind, but it has to be precise, otherwise you’d be teleporting everywhere with every step,” Tim swings the pendulum of a clock, but in its sorry state nothing happens.

“Well, either way, we’re not going to figure out shit with it like this,” Jason shakes his head. “I say we find (Y/N) then we figure out how to fix the thing.”

“That’s a good start,” Tim agrees.

“Luckily, I know where she is,” Damian cuts in, “we’ve been sticking close to each other since I landed here.”

“That’s good! She’s alright, then? Safe?” Tim worries. Damian hid the smile behind his hand.

“Good, great even, and most of all safe,” he answers. The train halts and Damian stands up first. “But, since I have you both here, we’re going to have to figure out a way to have both of you go under the radar too. So I’ll share the story we've been using.” Tim and Jason shared wary glances.

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

“We’re from the mountains—”

“Fuck, couldn’t you have come up with something more believable?” Jason groans.

“Trust me, it’s worked so far, it explains our general lack of knowledge on how everything in this universe works as for the lack of ID,” he starts, “so, we’re from a mountain village. Recently, due to impoverished conditions, our parents sent all of us down to start working and to send money home. It works with (Y/N) in her position, it works with me being inducted late, and we’ll find a way to make it work with you two.”

“Sure, alright, I’ll play along if it means we can get home easier,” Tim says.

“Home… yeah,” Damian nods, but Jason is quick to catch his unease. He chose not to bring it up, though.

“Fine, yeah, I’ll be a farmer, or whatever,” Jason leans back against the seat.

“This world, though, you mentioned different laws. Hell, Jason and I got arrested for taking care of things the way we usually do, how can you explain that?”

“The law enforcement in this world is basically airtight, and it’s based on an honor system,” Damian explains, “At any moment, someone can be removed and replaced in the Knighthood under two circumstances: reasonable petition or honorable combat. Reasonable petition is when enough people with viable grievances petition for a member to be removed. Honorable combat is when someone challenges a Knight for their position. Because of this system, a natural respect is garnered by the people, and as a result of that there’s hardly any petty crime. As for the larger crimes, those are dealt with quickly, there’s far worse problems to deal with in this world than crime,” Damian says.

“And the law?” Jason probes.

“No unreasonable violence without just cause and material evidence,” Damian says. “That’s the best way to put why you two were arrested. The victim ran away so you didn’t have their testimony, the criminal was knocked out cold so he couldn’t say anything anyway, and two people without IDs were spotted at the scene. Not a good look, right?”

“Fair enough,” Tim brushes his shoulder.

“It’s a good thing you two are in civilian attire, makes it easier for you to blend in,” Damian says.

“Yeah… speaking of, where’s your uniform? What’s with the get up?” Jason asks.

“It’s at the apartment right now, we had to keep it hidden. To be able to integrate quickly I joined the Knighthood alongside a new regiment, I lucked out in the timing, but because of that I have a strict regimen to stick to, it’s been hard to investigate, but now that I have you both here we should be able to delegate.” The train slows to a stop and the cabin door opens automatically. Damian held a finger to his lips to signal that the conversation was over and the older two nodded. Damian leads them out of the train and the trio steps into a high-ceiling station. “We’re in the citadel now, the Knightsguard is the primary form of law enforcement here,” Damian says just loud enough for them to hear.

“This looks right out of a fantasy book,” Tim looks around.

“Uh… yeah,” Jason watches people interacting with holograms and other tech he couldn’t have even imagined. “So, where’s (Y/N)?” He asks.

“I’m taking you to her, obviously,” Damian grimaces. “But she’s busy right now, we’ll have to wait, but you’ll be able to see her,” Damian leads them down a series of corridors. “I need you both to remain calm while we’re here, though, remember we have to fly under the radar if we’re all going to go home, that means we have to play by their rules,” Damian says.

“Yeah, I can be calm,” Jason huffs. Tim and Damian deadpan toward him. “What? I can!”

“Says the man who decked someone first thing,” Damian chuckles.

“How’d you even know that was us anyway?!” Jason gasps.

“Two men in their twenties, one used excessive force on a civilian and the other screamed in frustration when it happened, then they argued with each other right after,” Damian recites. “I didn’t even have to listen to your names to know it was you two,” his mouth falls into a flat line.

“That could’ve been anyone, though,” Tim says.

“Sure, in any other earth where law-breaking was common, like ours. I already explained to you that things are different here. Not to mention, those other worse things to worry about,” Damian led the two into an arena-like room.

“Dami! Over here!” A voice yells out.

“Ooh, Dami, huh?” Jason nudges him and Damian rolls his eyes.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he glowers.

“It’s kinda in the job description,” Jason snarks and Damian frowns.

“You two are so similar,” he mumbles under his breath. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he responds to Retta regardless and the three approach them.

“Whoa, who are these?” Lowen asks.

“These are my brothers, Tim and Jason,” Damian introduces them. “They are also from our backwater mountain village,” Damian glares at Hugo.

“Whoa…” Hugo was stuck in admiration, though.

“You two, the group here are my friends, don’t be weird. The one eating a sandwich is Niers, the one who called us over is Retta, the girl playing with those rocks is Luciana, the one reading over there is Lowen, and the one making googly eyes toward Jason is Hugo,” Damian runs through the list and the group exchanges awkward hellos.

“Well, you’re all just in time! The Brigade’s about to start their sparring matches,” Retta points toward the ring in the middle. “Every month the Brigade checks their individual progress through these matches, randomized opponents and randomized scenarios. Though we don’t have to be here, it’s always fascinating to see how quick-witted they are. Truly they are the best of the best for a reason,” she explains.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that,” Jason mutters.

“Jason’s somewhat of an expert,” Tim nudges him.

“What about you?” Lowen snarks.

“He’s smart,” Damian answers for him.

“That’s… that’s it?” Lowen hums.

“Trust us, he’s the most important one,” Jason sighs.

“Oh! It’s starting!” Niers leans forward, pulling out his phone to start recording. “Looks like Officer Jones and Lieutenant Wright are first,” he says.

“Jones is the one on the left, Wright, I’m sure, looks familiar,” Damian speaks so only the two could hear him.

“Holy shit… that’s Alex,” Jason squints his eyes. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Damian leans forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“In our line of work, those don’t exist,” Tim replies.

“What’s your first impression of them? Just a curious question,” Luciana butts into their conversation, she’s looking at Jason, the so-called expert.

“Well…” Jason leans forward. “Both of them are in the military, that’s clear from their builds. Jones has a broader build, though, his shoulders are heavier but his arms are just as built, he probably uses a heavy weapon, right?”

“Right, he uses battle axes,” Luciana leans back. “And the lieutenant?”

“Hm…” Jason thought back, he’d met Alex a couple of times, that nerd. He couldn’t imagine him wielding anything as heavy as an axe, and with that more balanced build it was clear that, if anything, he would only be able to use lightweight weapons. Then again, Alex is a nerd, and if this world is straight out of a story booy then one thing could be plausible. “Magic user.”

“He is an expert!” Niers gasps.

“Just lucky guesses,” Jason hums.

“Watch the screens there,” Retta points to the monitors. “Look, you can see who’s fighting on that first one and the second one shows the random scenario.”

“Swords, wow,” Lowen closed his book and watched with an intent gaze. “Just look at the way they even hold them,” he was amazed, and rightfully so.

“So, you both have talents in martial arts?” Retta asks.

“Yeah, but I’ve never used a sword before,” Jason shrugs.

“Observe carefully,” Damian mutters. Tim and Jason catch onto his words and they turn their focus to the fight ahead of them.

2013

You walked downstairs one night, the moon was high in the sky and the stars just barely peeking out of Gotham’s smog. You had another nightmare, the same one you’ve been having for a while now. Your fear of being left alone because of the looming threat of death was one that you didn’t think would be going away any time soon. You walked into the kitchen, ready to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim says behind you. You gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the glass while turning around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. There’s a mug in front of him, freshly poured and still cooling down.

“Is everything okay?” You pulled up a chair in front of him and he hesitated before answering.

“… No,” he looks into the mug in front of him. “I know I volunteered to become the next Robin but… training’s been harder than I thought it would be,” he shakes his head.

“That bad?” You rest your head on your hand. “Is Dick being too hard on you?”

“No, it’s not that, if anything Dick is the only one I’m actually learning from,” Tim shakes his head. “It’s just… it’s a lot,” he admits. You leaned forward on the table now.

“Well, for what it counts, I know next to nothing about fighting crime, so if you ever want to take a break, why not spend the day with me? I’m just a boring old civilian, but it’ll be nice to get some fresh air once in a while,” you offered.

“You’re not just a boring old civilian,” he shakes his head. “But… if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, maybe we can do something then?”

“Tomorrow?” You hummed. “Sure, let’s go do something after school,” you nodded. “I’ll tell dad so don’t worry about it, if he gets upset he’d have to go through me first,” you joked.

“Yes! I can’t wait!”

The next day, you and Tim were practically bouncing in your shoes waiting for the day to be over. Tim wondering what you had planned and you wondering how the day will go. This is the first time you’d have something of a younger sibling and you were so excited about it. You were excited to spend time with Tim the same way your older siblings spent time with you. It was a miracle that your dad agreed to let you take Tim out for the day, granted Dick did most of the talking, but you were thankful nonetheless. And, once the bell rang, it was nearly in the blink of an eye that both of you were outside.

“So, what are we doing today?” Tim asks.

“Hmm…” you pulled out two slips of paper and showed them to Tim, blank side up. “Choose one.”

“Any of them?”

“Yup, the one you choose is the one we’ll do today,” you nodded.

“Okay, well…” he looks between them both and selects the left one, “ice cream?”

“Ice cream it is,” you showed him the other paper which simply read ‘Arcade’ and you saw the way his eyes lit up, “this one is for the next time we hang out.”

“Next time?”

“Sure, even heroes need breaks,” you nudged him. “Anyway, there’s this hole-in-the-wall place I used to go to all the time, you’ll love it there, they have this cookie-butter flavor that is just so good,” you hummed.

“Cookie butter sounds good right now,” Tim follows at your heels.

“Hey, catch up! Don’t walk behind me like that,” you waited for him to join you at your side before continuing onward. “Look at those, Timmy,” you pointed into the shop window at the shoes. “I’ve been wanting that pair since forever,” you pointed at the one in the middle.

“Why don’t you just buy them then?” He asks you.

“Where’s the fun in that? My mom taught me from the get-go to earn things before getting them. Sure, her way was a bit…”

“Illegal?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you tilted your head to the side and nodded, “so I decided to combine both her and dad’s philosophies.”

“Beating people up?”

“No, no,” you shook your head quickly. “Work hard to make the prizes more worthwhile. It’s good for goal setting, and motivation, and it feels nice to finally reach a goal,” you pointed at the shoes. “I’m not going to buy those shoes until I graduate high school. No ifs, ands, or buts,” you announced. You and Tim walked into the ice cream parlor next to it and Tim slid into a booth. “How about you, Timmy? What’s your motivation?” Tim hums for a second.

“I want to do what’s right,” he says.

“You sure about that?” You asked him. He looks confused. “Think about it, Tim. I’m gonna get our ice cream.”

“But, that is my motivation.”

“That’s like premeds saying they want to save lives when asked why they wanted to go into medicine,” you explained.

“Well, you want to be a premed, why do you want to go into medicine?”

“Surgery, I want to specialize in that specifically because I like cutting things open,” you laughed and Tim’s face grew grim.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah, I mean, cutting things open with consent, duh, but see it’s small reasons that will help you drive your bigger one,” you say. “Anyway, what flavor do you want?”

“Chocolate, please.”

“Sounds good, think about it, Timmy, I’ll be right back.”

2022

“Talk about crowd,” Carter looks out from his spot. “When did we become zoo animals?” He nudges you.

“Who knows? It started out with the twins observing us, and now we have half the knighthood here,” you shrugged. “Poor Nix, though, he got the short end of the stick with swords.”

“He was never good at that subject,” you and Carter watched the sword slip out of Nixon’s hand and land stuck to the ground beneath. Alex, meanwhile, stops the blade right as it would’ve hit Nixon’s neck.

“Yield! I yield,” Nixon rose his hands and Alex put the sword away, offering his hand instead, which Nixon took with pride. “Good one, Lex,” he pulls Alex in and the two bump shoulders before separating. “Hey, stage’s all yours!” Nixon flags you both down.

“Yeah, yeah, take your time to walk that one off,” you fired back. Nixon rolled his eyes and followed Alex.

“Nixon, you have to pay more attention to your footing, I didn’t even have to worry about striking you since you were too busy tripping over yourself,” Alex says, “it’s amazing that you can wield an axe a foot taller than you.”

“Hey, come on, an axe is weighed totally differently than a sword,” Nixon shrugs. “Who’s up next anyway?”

“That would be us,” you raised your hand alongside Carter’s.

“Oh, now this I gotta see, you two don’t get paired up often,” Nixon grins. “My money’s on the Captain, of course,” he whispers to Alex.

“That all depends on what the random scenario is,” you shrugged. “If it’s anything other than swordsmanship or rifling, I’m screwed,” you sighed and followed Carter out, keeping your eyes glued to the screen to see the scenario. The words moved through the screen quickly in a wheel-like fashion until they settled on one phrase.

‘Hand-to-hand combat’

“Damn it all,” you cursed. Carter, meanwhile, stretched his arms across his chest. “You’re an expert at this one, Adara.”

“You would know,” he answers with a grin.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. You grabbed the wraps from the table and secured them around your hands. “Go easy, maybe?”

“You’d hate me if I did,” Carter held his hand out and you shook it with a firm grasp.

“Good answer,” you separated and took a deep breath and, once the buzzer sounded, your first move was to block, of all things. Too preoccupied with what was going on in the stands, you were more focused on not getting knocked down.

“Hey, she kinda looks like (Y/N),” Jason whistles. Damian and Tim turn back to look at him, the latter’s jaw on the floor.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Damian clicks his tongue.

“That is (Y/N)!” Tim gestures toward you with open hands and Jason whistles louder.

“Oh!” He leans back to get a wider view. “Oh,” his voice drops alongside his jaw. He shoots up and runs down the bleachers.

“Jason! Don’t do anything dumb!” Tim makes a move to follow, but Damian pulls him down.

“Shh!”

“He’s gonna blow our cover!”

“You’re both going to blow our cover if you make a scene,” Damian hisses.

“(Y/N)!” Jason cupped his hands around his mouth and your head whipped to the side.

“Jason?!” Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Twelve o’clock!” He shouts. You duck your head in time to dodge the jab.

“Distracted, cap?” Carter pulls his fists back and you hold your arms in a defensive stance while shaking the shock from your thoughts. You knew Carter well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let you off easy, and such was true when he landed a hit clean on your jaw. You stumbled back on slightly, pushing your mandible back in place.

“Good hit.”

“Not good enough apparently.” Carter was relentless, you knew he had a natural talent at this but goddammit you were about to get schooled in front of the newbies. You blocked another hit from him and ducked under his swing. You could only dodge him for so long, you’d have to fight back eventually, but he kept all of his weak points well-guarded, moving just enough every time to block you off. It was when he knocked the wind out of you, causing you to stumble back and land against the railing, then a small ray of hope appeared.

“Hey, kid,” Jason takes your shoulders and holds you steady, “come on, shake it off. When dealing with opponents twice your size, you gotta go for the spots they won’t think twice of. Looks like this guy doesn’t skip chest day, but if you look at his proportions, your best bet is to go for the legs and then you throw punches,” he instructs. You nodded your head shakily, your pride was getting in the way of your logic right now.

“Yeah, okay, why?” Was all you were able to get out.

“I’ll be damned if my little sister loses in a hand-to-hand fight, this is my bread and butter,” he hits his chest with his fist. “Now go fuck him up!” He pushes you forward and you roll your neck, the world stabilizing around you and your breathing steadying again.

“Okay, I’m back,” you hold your hands in front of you.

“Isn’t that cheating?” He nudges his head toward Jason.

“Please, he just wanted to say ‘hello,’” you shrugged and charged again. Go for the legs, that’s right, that was always Carter’s weak point, why didn’t you think of that before? Good on Jason for noticing it as soon as he looked at him too, just goes to show you still have a lot to learn. Color Carter surprised when you roundhoused him first, knocking him onto his back and grabbing him by the collar. “Yield.”

“Nah,” he grabs your arm and sweeps you off of your feet, you were airborne for a while before you felt yourself pinned to the ground. You broke free from his grasp and rolled to the side, regaining your footing quickly to move out of the way of another swing.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Of course, Jason was always the loudest in the room. You adjusted steadied your stance and threw a jab just as you moved out of the way of Carter’s right hook.

“Who’s he, anyway?” Carter asks.

“Focus,” you duck behind him and sweep his legs again, this time Carter falls forward, but you grab the back of his shirt on time. “You always keep your back open,” you shook your head.

“Well, I usually have you to watch it,” he pushes up and pivots on his heel, once again grabbing your arm, but you took this as a chance to slam your knee into his abdomen, effectively knocking the wind out of him and pushing him to the side. You stretched your arms out again and, right as he recovered, you landed a hit clean against his jaw, knocking him onto the floor. You shook the stinging pain out of your hands while he raised his right one. “Yield,” he adjusts his jaw and you help him up.

“Goes to show I’m captain for a reason, right?” You pulled him close so you could whisper in his ear. “Why’d you let me win? I know you can pack a harder punch.”

“Half the knighthood’s watching, and that guy who said ‘hello’ is glaring daggers at me,” he nudges his head toward Jason. Jason. You let go of him and turn to your brother, nodding toward the side of the stage, and he catches your signal, going in that direction while you drop the wraps back in their place. “Where are you off to?”

“Investigation, watch over Eve’s and Alex’s spar for me,” you walked under the entrance and spotted Jason at the end. “Don’t get excited, he let me win,” you jutted your thumb behind you, but Jason still had a proud grin on his face.

“Does it matter? Look at you go, kiddo!” He clapped a hand against your back and you groaned. “Now… what the fuck was that?!” His shout was obvious and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Look, Jay, a lot has changed since we last spoke, but more importantly, what the hell are you doing here? How? Are the others about to come pouring in?” You asked.

“Oh, actually, Tim’s here too.”

“Tim’s here too?!”

“Yeah, wanna say hi?”

“Jason, be serious, you shouldn’t be here, the three of you!”

“Well, duh, Tim and I came here to nab you and Damian and head back.”

“Head back? Do you even know how to head back?!”

“Sure,” Jason pulls out the wristwatch and you grab it, looking at the damaged insignia on the front. It was almost too scraped and worn through to be able to get a clear image, but the shape was a dead giveaway.

“How did you get this?”

“You left it behind?”

“Me? No, no, that’s impossible, I don’t use this model,” you said.

“Model? Wait, you have one of these?” Jason points at it in your hands.

“Yes, kind of, it’s complicated, Jay.”

“And you never came home?!” You stopped. You took a deep breath.

“… No,” you shook your head. You opened the watch. “Whatever you two did to this, it’s busted beyond repair. It can’t get you back now, and the models I use are under lock and key by the Crown,” you shut the watch with one hand and handed it back to Jason.

“And since Damian’s still here then you haven’t been able to get it, huh?”

“Without putting him at risk, no,” you crossed your arms and Jason mirrored your stance. “I’m not going back, Jay.”

“I’m not going to try to convince you,” he says while rubbing the back of his neck harshly. “Look, I know you have your reasons, and I’m not going to bang my head against a wall to understand them—”

“I thought you of all people would understand,” you interjected.

“What?”

“You didn’t come home either, did you?” You asked.

“That was different.”

“How so?” You stepped up. “We both died because of a mistake that father made and we both came back fundamentally changed from who we were before, how are we different?”

“Because you are you and I am me,” Jason points to you then to himself. “I… I can’t explain it other than that,” he shakes his head.

“Sister,” Damian approaches with Tim in tow.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” you took the watch from Jason’s hand and held it up. “Look familiar, Damian?” You held it by the chain and the younger nodded. “Shit, this just got more complicated,” you muttered. You shoved it into your pocket as soon as you heard footsteps.

“Ayo, Cap!” Nixon waves his hand. “Ayo… everyone else,” he observes the group while the rest of the Brigade follow behind him.

“Whoa, long time no see, Alex,” Jason waves.

“Hello, Jason,” Alex nods his head. “I don’t suppose daddy dearest will be next, will he?” Alex whispers toward you.

“Interesting to see a familiar face,” Tim was already making connections, you could see it in his expression.

“Shit… the Queen’s gonna kill me,” you slumped your shoulders and your eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Would it be nepotism if I just tossed them in some honorary role?” You looked at Alex.

“Yes, very, but they’re too old to take the recruits’ test too,” Alex hums.

“It’s fine, there’s no need,” Tim cuts in. “We’ll be in and out, we’re just here to get Damian and (Y/N) and we’ll be on our way—”

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean you’re here for the captain?” Carter subtly steps next to you now. “Sure, take the kid, we were looking for ways to send him back anyway, but you can’t take her.” He looks toward you and you sigh.

“What do you mean we can’t take her?” Tim frowns.

“Stop,” you held your hand out and the group fell into a tangible silence. “Look, we can’t have this conversation until we even find a way to send them back. We haven’t had access to our watches since we came back, and we can only use those with a direct Royal order, so until then, we’re going to have to find a way for you both to lie low, that’s why I inducted Damian into the Knighthood, it gave me a way to keep an eye on him while I researched the monster outbreaks,” you explain.

“There’s monsters here too?” Tim asks.

“Naturally,” you nodded. “Any of you have any ideas on how I handle my brothers?” You looked at your team.

“You are taking this surprisingly well,” Alex comments. You look at your watch.

“No time to freak out, I have to head down to the lab soon, there are developments with the daemon I need to check out,” you silenced your phone, “well? Anyone?”

“It’s a long shot, but…” Eve hums. “I know we have openings on our research team, we could probably fit them in there,” she says.

“I could do that,” Tim says. “Jason, though, I’m not too sure,” he looks at his brother, who crossed his arms.

“There is that way,” Alex speaks up but you shook your head.

“No way.”

“Well, it’s your best bet if you don’t want Jason around vials ten times older than he is,” Alex insists.

“What is it? I can handle it,” Jason nods.

“Mm… who would he fight though? He has to take someone’s place,” you mumbled.

“Or, if he fought someone with high authority and they were impressed with him that could work too,” Alex insists.

“Who has that authority?” You asked him.

“…” Alex didn’t answer.

“Oh,” your eyes widened slightly with the realization. “Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Jason, repeat after me,” you looked at him and he nodded. “I, Jason Todd.”

“I, Jason Todd.”

“Challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“The Captain of the Brigade.”

“For a position on their team.”

“For a position on their… team?” Jason’s head tilts slightly.

“Sure, challenge accepted,” you took his hand and shook it.

“Wait… What?!” You pushed him toward the arena. “Hold on!”

“See you guys in a bit, I’ll explain everything after this, promise, meanwhile someone makes up an ID for him and Timmy,” you looked at your team and they nodded, heading toward the stands. “Jason, make it look realistic, yeah? Eyes everywhere.” You pushed him out of the entryway and Jason looked around the arena. He’d seen it from above, but to be in the center of it all was a whole new experience.

“Get a load of this! Someone challenged the Captain!” A voice shouted.

“Captain Wayne?! He doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Who is he anyway? Someone pull up his ID.”

“Not every day we see someone not in the Knighthood challenge, should be interesting.”

“What did you get me into?” Jason asks, looking around the now looming arena.

“Shh,” you pointed toward the screens. The phrases rolled in roulette until it settled: No scenario. “Well, that’s just luck.” Two tables rose on either side of you. “Take your pick, Jay. Whichever you choose I’ll go with too. If I’m impressed, I’ll induct you in, if not… well, we’ll deal with that after,” you shrugged and stood at the table, waiting for your opponent to make his choice. Jason, as predicted, picked up the pistols. “Don’t worry, there’s an enchantment on them, nothing here is deadly,” you told him, picking up your own pair of guns. “We’re sparring, not killing.”

“Sure, yeah,” he gives them a spin to test their weight, and, strangely enough, they felt perfect. “So what exactly are we doing?”

“Only way I can keep you two close by. Tim goes with research, you stick by me. I can’t have you running off punching people, Jay.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Not here you can’t, god, you’re worse than Damian,” you readjusted your grip around the handles. “Think of it as a spar, you’ve done plenty of those.”

“This isn’t fair, though,” Jason stood at one end of the arena. “You’ve watched me since I started, you know all my moves.”

“Not true, there was a three-year gap, right? I would hope you learned something new.”

“Oho, you really are my sister if you’re making jokes about your death,” Jason held the pistol up. “I saw that fight too, let’s get caught up,” Jason takes the first shot and you move out of the way just in time, taking your own shot in response.

2015

“So, anyway,” Tim takes a bite of his cheeseburger while you drank your soda, “Conner did some crazy shit where he ripped the robot in two, it was insane!” Tim continued to tell his story but soon he caught himself.

“It’s okay, he’s still your best friend,” you urged him to continue.

“Still, though, I mean…” Tim crosses his arms.

“At least he did it the right way, he broke up with me first,” you shrugged. “And it’s good for you too! You don’t have to hear me talking about him anymore,” you nudged him playfully and continued eating. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sis,” he shakes his head. “Plus, I’m out here with you, why would I want to talk about work?” Tim groans. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” you hummed. “I’ve just sent out my applications. I’m looking into some different universities,” you pulled up the list on your phone. “I’m really looking at Metropolis or Central City, they have strong STEM programs that I’m interested in,” you said.

“Oh… what about Gotham U?” Tim asks. You look up from your phone and you don’t quite think you’ve seen that expression on him before.

“Of course, that’s my safe university, I’m pretty much guaranteed acceptance with my namesake alone,” you cleared your throat. “Is… is everything okay, Timmy?” You asked him. You couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. You’d noticed Tim being a bit more… resistant to certain things going on in the house. You leaving for college being one of them, you never noticed just how close you two were until now.

“Bruce… he doesn’t need me anymore, huh?” He says quietly.

“Oh, Tim, don’t say that,” you straightened your posture and you took a deep breath.

“And you… you have an actual younger brother now,” Tim says quietly.

“Hey, come on, blood doesn’t make the bond,” you say. “Plus, no one could ever replace you,” you continued. “I mean, not just anyone memorizes 200 digits of pi for fun.”

“Come on, that’s nothing!” Tim grumbles.

“Definitely something, Tim I cry tears of joy when problems tell me to just use pi instead of 3.14,” you laughed. “But, I’m serious, Tim, if anything you’re going to get promoted,” you grinned. Tim shoots you an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know what exactly I’m so worried about,” he says. “I mean… well, I don’t know,” he stops and decides not to pursue it any further. “But, uh, Metropolis, huh? That’s a good school!”

“I know, just a little far now that I think about it,” you muttered. “Gotham’s program isn’t so bad either, I guess,” you hummed and took a quick glance at Tim, who already seemed a little happier.

“But, (Y/N), you don’t have to go there, you looked excited talking about those other two,” Tim catches your glance. “It’s just… they’re far,” he leans back against the booth. “We can’t be with you there, you know? You’d be on your own and you’re a Wayne and…”

“Hey, I can handle myself pretty well, I think,” you insisted. “I mean, I made it this far, right?”

“Because you had us!”

“Tim,” your voice dropped and you looked both ways, ensuring that no one was listening. “I get that I’m not as… extraordinary as you all, but I’m not helpless, I can take care of myself, I’ve been taking care of myself, and I know you mean well, but Tim you’ve gotta trust me a little,” you folded your hands in front of you. “I’m not as fragile as Dick likes to make me out to be.”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant,” Tim looked away and you sighed.

“I know, I know you just want me to be safe, all of us,” you crossed your arms. “But I can’t just live in fear. One thing being in this family teaches you is how to be careful,” you looked to the side. “And another thing it teaches you is that family is what you make it,” Tim looked at you now. “Dick and I aren’t blood-related, neither was Jason, and neither are you, but still I have never looked at any of you as anything other than my brothers. The same goes for Babs, Steph, and Cass, you’re all my family regardless of anything, and I will always put you all first. But, with that said, the same goes for Damian. He’s young, alone, and probably confused, we can’t alienate him just because of his background, if anything, that’s why we should accept him more. And you, Tim, I get it, you’re different from the first two, but that doesn’t make you any less than them, hell, I bet if Jason were here right now he’d say the same.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts, Tim, I mean it, you’re amazing!”

“Maybe… maybe I’ll take a page out of your book then, (Y/N), retire early,” he says. Your shoulders slumped.

“Whatever you want, little bro. And if you do, I’ll be here to help you out. And if not, I’ll still be here.”

“Even if you’re miles away?”

“You know, there’s this wonderful invention called cell phones.”

“Stop it! You know what I mean!”

“Yes! Yeah, of course, even if I’m partying it up in Central City, if you call me I’ll come running, I know you’d do the same.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Tim crosses his arms now.

“So… the new team, huh? I’d love to meet them.”

“Oh, you are going to love them, (Y/N)!” Tim beams.

2022

You just narrowly dodged the bullet this time, had Jason already gotten a reading on you? Impossible. You had to switch up your tactics quickly or else you’d actually lose. Think, (Y/N), what was he going to do next? Jason, as much as a wildcard he is, you could read him easily. He had these kinds of wind-ups to certain moves, you noticed. Like now, that roll of his shoulder, he’s going in for a hook so now you had to think about where he’s aiming. If he ducks low enough it’s your abdomen, if he keeps his level then it’s your shoulder. Leave it to Jason to play dirty, he picked up the pistols only for them to be a red herring, but, then again, you should’ve expected this from him as soon as he holstered the damn things.

But you knew him as well as he knew you. You play by the rules, maybe a little too much, out of the box operations were more of Carter’s forte while you and Alex tried to stick to orders more. But, come to think of it, you’d always been this way. Always doing what you’re told and never standing up until you have to. Then here’s Jason, an absolute force of nature when he’s pissed and an unstoppable machine when he’s focused.

You dodged his punch and bounced back, creating some distance before aiming the pistol and taking three shots. One on his arm, the other on his leg, and the third missed its mark when it grazed his shoulder. On each impact the bullet dissipated, hitting him with enough force to push him back but hardly enough to leave more than a bruise. You switched hands and fired another round, this time the bullet grazed his cheek and Jason couldn’t stop the proud smirk that rose on his face.

You never really got why your siblings were so crazy about sparring. Sure, you got it from a training standpoint, but their obsession with it was on a new level. It was just a pass time for them and you’d just sip on a juicebox and wait for them to finish.

But you get it now.

It’s a whole different language, one that was perfected by the Waynes. Each attack was like a part of a conversation, let’s get caught up, you get what he meant now. Even your spars with the other members of the Brigade weren’t this entertaining, and everyone in the stands agreed. Usually, you’d hear roars of shouts but this time it was silent. Everyone was watching in tense observation, trying to see if Jason had what it takes to join the Brigade and, hell, he actually might.

“Come on, Jay, you picked up those pistols, use them,” you taunted. Jason shook his head and charged again, you barely moved out of the way this time. “You’re faster.”

“I do cardio with Steph.” You ducked under his swing.

“Wider shoulders too.” He grabbed your fist before you could hit him and you shook him off before he could toss you.

“Dick would kill me if I skipped chest day.” You held the pistol up but misfired.

“Thought he was more of a glutes guy.” Jason evades your attacks easily.

“You know that’s all genetics.” He shrugs and you take this chance to shoot at his foot, causing him to lose his balance temporarily.

“True.” It didn’t last long, Jason was up on his feet in seconds and you were planning your next attack.

“I’m starting to think you just use those things as a safety blanket,” you looked at either pistol and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You know one thing about you that hasn’t changed, kiddo?”

“What?”

“You still don’t look under you.”

“What?” You looked down and your breath stopped, seeing the array of bullet shells and spikes beneath you. “Now when did you get those?”

“Had them from the beginning, you just weren’t paying attention,” he shakes his head.

“Effectively, this would be a draw,” you looked around you, one misstep would be something of an unfortunate lego brick under your shoes. “Neither of us can move forward,” you explained.

“Oh yeah? Boring,” he shakes his head.

“This match is over,” you announced, stretching out your neck and, in seconds, all the weapons disappeared as if in a simulation and the cheering was deaf to you. “I like you, you’re not Brigade material, but I’ll find a place for you,” you held your hand out and he shook it.

“Sure, I look forward to it,” he says.

“So, I have to ask, why didn’t you use them? Wanted to prove you didn’t need them?”

“You really think I would shoot you? Spar or not, I couldn’t do that,” he shakes his head. You stopped for a moment, but regained your senses before anyone could notice. “Now what?”

“I either get my ass kicked by the queen or we start your onboarding, should be quick, I’m putting you in one of the honorary squadrons,” you nodded. Jason followed you into the end of the arena. “What we talked about earlier? We discuss it to no one. Not Damian, not Tim, and no one on my team,” you said.

“What did we talk about again?” Jason caught your hint.

“Captain! Captain, we have a problem!” Marion was quick to meet you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That beast from a few months ago, the one that attacked the new recruits! It’s back! It’s in the courtyard right now! Aldryn’s moving the royal family to a safe house as we speak.”

“Shit,” you looked at Jason, then to Marion. “Take me there,” you pulled your phone out and held it to your ear. “All members of the Brigade report to the courtyard, we have another Daemon to take care of,” you held your hand over the speaker, “Mary how many of them are there?”

“We counted one so far, but if it’s anything like before…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“You take the recruits and go somewhere safe, we’ll call for help if we need it.” You ran off toward the courtyard and Marion looks at Jason.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“I’m with her,” Jason jogs after you. “What the hell is a Daemon, (Y/N)?!”

“We have monsters. This is a recent one that happens to decimate towns,” you explained, “why are you following me? Go somewhere far!”

“I wouldn’t even know where to go!” Jason defends. You both stop once you reach the outdoors and Jason swallows down his words. “That… is that it?”

“Whatever it is… that is not the one that attacked the recruits before,” you looked up. It was huge, bigger than anyone you had fought before. It towered over you easily while fresh blood dripped down its maw. It spots you and its ears straighten in alert while its eyes, empty white sockets, bored their way into you. Your eyes drifted to its neck and you could just barely make out the glint of metal that was hidden in its fur. You held your phone up again. “We need it alive.”

“Roger,” Nixon answered first.

“I’ll handle crowd control,” Alex says.

“I’m on my way now,” Eve was next.

“Can you handle it until we get there?” Carter.

“Sure… maybe.” The beast growled and, maybe you were just noticing it, but with every roar or grunt the skies seemed to get darker.

Not Your Classic Vigilante: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnack @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld @underworldempire @franini @mayo-0-o

If you want to be added to the tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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hellsite-hall-of-fame · 2 years ago

Note

Once upon a time there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort which could only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knigts had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but non prevailed. She waited in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss. {Laughing} Like that's ever gonna happen. {Paper Rusting, Toilet Flushes} What a load of - Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed She was lookin' kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb In the shape of an "L" on her forehead The years start comin' and they don't stop comin' Fed to the rules and hit the ground runnin' Didn't make sense not to live for fun Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb So much to do so much to see So what's wrong with takin' the backstreets You'll never know if you don't go You'll never shine if you don't glow Hey, now You're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold It's a cool place and they say it gets colder You're bundled up now but wait till you get older But the meteor men beg to differ Judging by the hole in the satellite picture The ice we skate is gettin' pretty thin The water's getting warm so you might as well swim My world's on fire How 'bout yours That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored Hey, now, you're an all-star {Shouting} Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold {Belches} Go! Go! {Record Scratching} Go. Go.Go. Hey, now, you're an all-star Get your game on, go play Hey, now You're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shootin' stars break the mold -Think it's in there? -All right. Let's get it! -Whoa.

Hold on. Do you know what that thing can do to you? -Yeah, it'll grind your bones for it's bread. {Laughs} -Yes, well, actually, that would be a gaint. Now, ogres - - They're much worse. They'll make a suit from your freshly peeled skin. -No! -They'll shave your liver. Squeeze the jelly from your eyes! Actually, it's quite good on toast. -Back! Back, beast! Back! I warn ya! {Gasping} -Right. {Roaring} {Shouting} {Roaring} {Whispers} This is the part where you run away. {Gasping} {Laughs} {Laughing} And stay out! "Wanted. Fairy tale creatures." {Sighs} {Man's voice} All right. This one's full. -Take it away! {Gasps} -Move it along. Come on! Get up! -Next! -Give me that! Your fiying days are over. That's 20 pieces of silver for the witch. Next! -Get up! Come on! -Twenty pieces. {Thudding} -Sit down there! -Keep quiet! {Crying} -This cage is too small. -Please, don't turn me in. I'll never be stubborn again. I can change. Please! Give me another chance! -Oh, shut up. -Oh! -Next! -What have you got? -This little wooden puppet. -I'm not a puppet. I'm a real boy. -Five shillings for the possessed toy. Take it away. -Father, please! Don't let them do this! -Help me! -Next! What have you got? -Well, I've got a talking donkey. {Grunts} -Right. Well, that's good for ten shillings, if you can prove it. -Oh, go ahead, little fella. -Well? -Oh, oh, he's just - - He's just a little nervous. He's really quite a chatterbox. Talk, you boneheaded dolt - - -That's it. I've heard enough. Guards! -No, no, he talks! He does.

I can talk. I love to talk. I'm the talkingest damn thing you ever saw. -Get her out of my sight. -No, no! I swear! Oh! He can talk! {Gasps} -Hey! I can fly! -He can fly! -He can fly! -He can talk! -Ha, ha! That's right, fool! Now I'm a flying, talking donkey. You might have seen a housefly, maybe even a superfly but I bet you ain't never seen a donkey fly. Ha, ha! Oh-oh. {Grunts} -Seize him! -After him! He's getting away! {Grunts, Gasps} {Man} -Get him! This way! Turn! -You there. Orge! -Aye? -By the order of Lord Farquaad I am authorized to place you both under arrest and transport you to a designated..... resettlement facility. -Oh, really? You and what army? {Gasps, Whimpering} {Chuckles} -Can I say something to you? -Listen, you was really, really, really somethin' back here. Incredible! Are you talkin' to - - me? Whoa! -Yes. I was talkin' to you. Can I tell you that you that you was great back here? Those guards! They thought they was all of that. Then you showed up, and bam! They was trippin' over themselves like babes in the woods. That really made me feel good to see that. -Oh, that's great. Really. -Man, it's good to be free. -Now, why don't you go celebrate your freedom with your own friends? Hmm? -But, uh, I don't have any friends. And I'm not goin' out there by myself. Hey, wait a minute! I got a great idea! I'll stick with you. You're mean, green, fightin' machine. Together we'll scare the spit out of anybody that crosses us. {Roaring} -Oh, wow! That was really scary. If you don't mind me sayin', if that don't work, your breath certainly will get the job done, 'cause you definitely need some Tic Tacs or something, 'cause you breath stinks! You almost burned the hair outta my nose, just like the time - - {Mumbling} Than I ate some rotten berries. I had strong gases eking out of my butt that day. -Why are you following me? -I'll tell you why. 'Cause I'm all alone There's no one here beside me My promlems have all gone There's no one to deride me But you gotta heve friends - - -Stop singing! It's no wonder you don't have any friends. -Wow. Only a true friend would be that cruelly honest. -Listen, little donkey. Take a look at me. What am I? -Uh - - Really tall? -No! I'm an orge! You know.

"Grab your torch and pitchforks." Doesn't that bother you? -Nope. -Really? -Really, really. -Oh. -Man, I like you. What's you name? -Uh, Shrek. -Shrek? Well, you know what I like about you, Shrek? You got that kind of I-don't-care-what-nobody-thinks-of-me thing. I like that. I respect that, Shrek. You all right. Whoo! Look at that. Who'd want to live in place like that? -That would be my home. -Oh! And it is lovely! Just beautiful. You know you are quite a decorator. It's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget. I like that boulder. That is a nice boulder. -I guess you don't entertain much, do you? -I like my privacy. -You know, I do too. That's another thing we have in common. Like I hate it when you got somebody in your face. You've trying to give them a hint, and they won't leave. There's that awkward silence. -Can I stay with you? -Uh, what? -Can I stay with you, please? -Of course! -Really? -No. -Please! I don't wanna go back there! You don't know what it's like to be considered a freak. Well, maybe you do. But that's why we gotta stick together. You gotta let me stay! Please! Please! -Okay! Okay! But one night only.

-Ah! Thank you! -What are you - - No! No! -This is gonna be fun! We can stay up late, swappin' manly stories, and in the mornin' I'm makin' waffles. -Oh! -Where do, uh, I sleep? -Outside! -Oh, well. I guess that's cool. I mean, I don't know you, and you don't know me, so I guess outside is best, you know. {Sniffles} -Here I go. -Good night. {Sighs} -I mean, I do like the outdoors. I'm a donkey. I was born outside. I'll just be sitting by myself outside, I guess, you know. By myself, outside. I'm all alone There's no one here beside me {Bubbling} {Sighs} {Creaking} {Sighs} -I thought I told you to stay outside. -I'm outside. {Clattering} -Well, gents, it's a far cry from the farm, but what choice do we have? -It's not home, but it'll do just fune. -What a lovely bed. -Got ya. {Sniffs} I found some cheese. -Ow! {Grunts} -Blah! Awful stuff. -Is that you, Gorder? -How did you know? -Enough! What are you doing in my house? {Grunts} -Hey! {Snickers} -Oh, no, no, no. Dead broad off the table. -Where are we supposed to put her? The bed's taken. -Huh? {Gusps} {Male voice} What? -I live in a swamp. I put up signs. I'm a terrifying orge! What do I have to do get a little privacy? -Aah! -Oh, no. No! No! {Cackling} -What? -Quit it. -Don't push. {Squeaking} {Lows} - What are you doing in my swamp? {Echoing} Swamp! Swamp! Swamp! {Gasping} -Oh, dear! -Whoa! -All right, get out of here. All of you, move it! Come on! Let's go! Hapaya! Hapaya! Hey! -Quickly. Come on! -No, no! No, no. Not there. Not there. -Oh! {Sighs} -Hey, don't look at me. I didn't invite them. -Oh, gosh, no one invited us. -What? -We were forced to come here. -By who? -Lord Farquaad. -He huffed und he puffed und he...... signed an eviction notice. {Sighs} -All right. Who knows where this Farquaad guy is? {Murmuring} -Oh, I do. I know where he is.

-Does anyone else know where to find him? Anyone at all? -Me! Me! -Anyone? -Oh! Oh, pick me! Oh, I know! I know! Me, me! {Sighs} -Okay, fine. Attention, all fairy tale things. Do not get comfortable. Your welcome is officially worn out. In fact, I'm gonna see this guy Farquaad right now and get you all off my land and back where you came from! {Cheering} {Twittering} -Oh! You! You're comin' with me. - All right, that's what I like to hear, man. Shrek and Donkey, two stalwart friends, off on a whirlwind big-city adventure. I love it! -On the road again. Sing it with me, Shrek. -Hey. Oh, oh! -I can't wait to get on the road again. -What did I say about singing? -Can I whistle? -No. -Can I hum it? -All right, hum it. {Humming} {Grunts} {Whimpering} -That's enough. He's ready to talk. {Coughing} {Laughing} {Clears throat} -Run, run, run, as fust as you can. You can't catch me. I'm the gingerbread man! -You are a monster. -I'm not the monster here. You are. You and the rest of that fairy tale trash, poisoning my perfect world. Now, tell me! Where are the others? -Eat me!{Grunts} -I've tried to be fair to you creatures. Now my patience has reached its end! Tell me or I'll - -

-No, no, not the buttons. Not my gumdrop buttons. -All right then. Who's hiding them? -Okay, I'll tell you. Do you know the muffin man? -The muffin man? -The muffin man. -Yes, I know the muffin man, who lives on Drury Lane? -Well, she's married to the muffin man. -The muffin man? -The muffin man! -She's married to the muffin man. {Door opens} -My lord! We found it. -Then what are you waiting for? Bring it in. {Man grunting} {Gasping} -Oh! -Magic mirror - - -Don't tell him anything! -No! {Ginerbread man whispers} -Evening. Mirror, mirror on the wall. Is this not the most perfect kingdom of them all? -Well, technically you're not a king. -Uh, Thelonius. -You were saying? -What I mean is, you're not a king yet. But you can become one. All you have to do is marry a princess. -Go on. {Chuckles} -So, just sit back and relax, my lord, because it's time for you to meet today's eligible bachelorettes. And here they are! Bachelorette number one is a mentally abused shut-in from a kingdom far, far away. She likes sushi and hot tubbing anytime. Her hobbies include cooking and cleaning for her two evil sisters. Please welcome Cinderella. -Bachelorette number two is a cape-wearing girl from the land of fancy. Although she lives with seven other men, she's not easy.

Just kiss her dead, frozen lips and find out what a live wire she is. Come on. Give it up for Snow White! -And last, but certainly not last, bachelorette number three is a fiery redhead from a dragon-guarded castle surrounded by hot boiling lava! But don't let that cool you off. She's a loaded pistol who likes pina colads and getting caught in the rain. Yours for the rescuing, Princess Fiona! -So will it be bachelorette number one, bachelorette number two or bachelorette number three? -Two! Two! -Three! Three! -Two! Two! -Three! -Three? One? {Shudders} Three? --Three! Pick number three, my lord! -Okay, okay, uh, number three! -Lord Farquaad, you've chosen Princess Fiona. If you like pina coladas And getting caught in the rain -Princess Fiona. If you're not into yoga -She's perfect. All I have to do is just find someone who can go - - -But I probably should mention the little thing that happens at night. -I'll do it. -Yes, but after sunset - - -Silence! I will make this Princess Fiona my queen, and DuLoc will finally have the perfect king! Captain, assemble your finest men. We're going to have a tournament. -But that's it. That's it right there. That's DuLoc. I told ya I'd find it. -So, that must be Lord Farquaad's castle. -Uh-huh. That's the place. -Do you think maybe he's compensating for something? {Laughs} {Groans} -Hey, wait. Wait up, Shrek. -Hurry, darling. We're late. Hurry. -Hey, you! {Screams} -Wait a second. Look, I'm not gonna eat you. I just - - I just - - {Whimpering} {Sighs} {Whimpering, Groans} {Turnstile clatters} {Chuckles} {Sighs} -It's quiet. Too quiet. {Creaking} -Where is everybody? -Hey, look at this! {Clattering, whirring, clicking} Welcome to DuLoc such a perfect town Here we have some rules Let us lay them down Don't make waves, stay in line And we'll get along fine DuLoc is perfect place

Please keep off of the grass Shine your shoes, wipe your... face DuLoc is, DuLoc is DuLoc is perfect ...... place {Camera shutter clicks {Whirring} -Wow! Let's do that again! -No. No. No, no, no! No. {Trumpet fanfare} {Crowd cheering} -Brave knights. -You are the best and brightest in all the land. -Today one of you shall prove himself - - -All right. You're going the right way for a smacked bottom. -Sorry about that. {Cheering} -That champion shall have the honor - - no, no - - the privilege to go forth and rescue the lovely Princess Fiona from the fiery keep of the dragon. If for any reason the winner is unsuccessful, the first runner-up will take his place and so on and so forth. Some of you mae die, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make. {Cheering} -Let the tournament begin! {Gasps} -Oh! -What is that? {Gasping} -It's hideous! -Ah, that's not very nice. It's just a donkey. -Indeed. Knights, new plan! The one who kills the orge will be named champion! Have it him! -Get him! -Oh, hey! Now come on! Hang on now. -Go ahead! Get him! -Can't we just settle this over a pint? -Kill the beast! -No? All right then. Come on! I don't give a damn about my reputation You're living in the past It's a new generation -Damn! {Whinnying} A girl can do what she wants to do And that's what I'm gonna do And I don't give a damn about my bad reputation Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Not me Me, me, me -Hey, Shrek, tag me! Tag me! And I don't give a damn about my bad reputation

just so everyone knows, there are like 5 other asks with the rest of the Shrek script in my inbox…..

but i’m only posting this one, so you’re all so very welcome!!!

(also thank you so very much @genlossicle, your commitment is astounding and very much appreciated lol)

#I feel like this is the best one to post #it has the duloc song! and all star !#ask #the hellsite answers #shrek script #long post #very long post #shrek #script #movie script #hellsite hall of fame curator’s bullshit

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hwangism143 · 8 months ago

Text

off - limits (preview)

synopsis: hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: best friends brother trope, one room trope, angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, nightmares, graphic description of nearly drowning (more warnings will be added to the main fic)

word count (preview): 968 words

release date: 03/05/24

a/n: finally! my first over 10k word fic lol. this was requested to me by @scarlet789 and i immediately started working on it. you can send in an ask or reply below if you wish to be added to the taglist for this fic, coming out nest friday!

preview down below

"Hmm," Hyunjin hummed in contemplation to something you had said, "You know, I always liked your company more then Hyun-jee's. Don't tell her though." He had mischievous look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, eliciting a laugh from within you and bringing back a memory you had forgotten.

You were still slightly awed by the fact that the Hwang Hyun-jee invited you to spend summer with her. At a ski lodge. A fricking ski lodge! The shocking revelation that you could be considered cool enough to hang out with her and her brother were the thoughts in your head as you stared at the copy of Emma in your hands, pretending to read the text.

Beside you, you could hear the steady scratching of pencil against paper, interrupted only by the symphony of an eraser rubbing against the sheet. This little orchestra playing next to you was evidence of Hyunjin's existence, an art in itself if anyone asked you.

"You should teach me French," he asks you out of the blue, "For when if leave to go to Paris."

You look at him inquisitively. He told you that he got accepted into art school in Paris a few days ago. You did feel sad about the fact that he was going, but deep down you knew very well that practically, after this summer your interactions with Hyunjin would be few and far in between.

"You have Hyun-jee, she can teach you. If, that is, you can put up with her," you retort teasingly.

Hyunjin gives you a sly smirk, "That's exactly why I was asking you. I think I'll like your style of teaching better. And so, I want you to please, please, please teach me French."

You had no idea where this sudden newfound confidence to flirt with Hyunjin had bloomed within you but, oh well, you only live once. "Do you want me teaching you, or just me in general?"

"Ah," he said shaking his head regretfully with a smile, "Even though you have only known me for a few weeks, you already know me too well."

Butterflies ignite in your stomach, although you're pretty sure he was just playing along with you. You wonder what he's sketching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes set in concentration. Even though you have a feeling it isn't, you sincerely hope it's you.

You don't know that your hopeful assumption was true.

A tightening in you chest starts to grow when the topic shifts to love. Earlier, talking to Hyunjin about love used to come as easy walking on your two feet. Now, it just hurts. He asked you if you were seeing someone. You promptly replied in the negative. You asked him if he was seeing someone. He reflected your answer back onto you.

But what did it really mean? You were always going to be bound in this life by that unspoken oath you made to Hyun-jee all those years ago. It wasn't even about love anymore, it was about not breaking another person's trust, a person who you held closer to your heart than most of your family.

You started thinking though. What was the point of hiding your feelings, old or not, from Hyunjin any longer? It wasn't like you could act on it, but you may as well have told him. Maybe then a huge weight from your chest would be released and you wouldn't be shackled by commitments, things you felt you owed to both of them.

"I don't think you know this but," your expression suddenly changed, "I used to have the biggest crush on you that summer."

"Used to?" At this point, Hyunjin is sitting up straight, eyeing you curiously. You roll your eyes and give him a playful slap on his arm. His expression, however, turns into one of regret. You begin to feel remorseful about telling him, paranoia settling in and molding itself into the fabric of who you were.

"That's a shame," he says quietly.

The air changes, charged with something you can't quite place. Hyunjin hols eye contact with you, unsaid words coursing through them. You never really believed in the phrase 'the eye is the window to the soul', but right now, you were terrified of whatever the hell your eyes were revealing to him right now. Hyunjin then proceeds to utter something, something so capable of infusing you with poisoned hope, that it takes your breath away.

"I think I would have loved loving you."

Time has stopped. Feelings of desperation, annihilation and most importantly, temptation, cascade in a whirlpool inside you. It had been years. This was wrong. This was the universe dangling temptation in front of you, urging you to just take a bite. Rebelliously, you wondered, what if you were selfish for one? Why were you feeling this way now?

"I think I would have loved being loved by you," you choke out. Hyunjin's hand laces through yours and gives it a little squeeze in response.

That is when it dawns on you that Hyunjin is as confined in this matter as you, if not more. Hyun-jee is his sister for God's sake; whatever guilt you felt in wanting him, he must have felt tenfold in wanting you. You know exactly what the little squeeze he gave you signifies: It will pass. If it cannot be, it will cease.

And you know it's true because you and Hyunjin can never be 'us' or 'we' as long as you were present in this reality. You wished there was a universe somewhere, a parallel reality when Hyunjin and you were considered of one breath because to breath you would need him like oxygen.

Judging by his expression, he must have been drifting in thought about that too.

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x female reader #- via's fics <3

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bingbongsupremacy · 1 year ago

Text

Knock knock Pt. 2 (Last Part)

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

Warnings: Use of pet name 'baby' and nick names.

Summary: A simple request to turn the music down turns into a frustrating back and forth battle. Why does your neighbor have to be so damn attractive?

This fic does not mention anything about the way the readers' body is shaped, their weight, their height, etc. If I happened to miss something or accidentally described the readers' appearance anywhere, please let me know so I can fix it.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List TLOU Master list

*****

" You fucking narc. " Venom drips off of Ellie's voice. Her eyebrows are drawn together, anger splayed across her face.

I hold onto the door handle tightly, staring at the girl on the porch. " I told you what would happen if you didn't shut your little party down. I'm not playing. Williams. " I try to keep my tone cool.

" I'm not either. This isn't over. " With that, Ellie storms away. She slams her front door, mumbling to herself in the process.

Serves her right.

------

" I'm going to kill Ellie Williams. " I huff, burying my head into my hands.

Loud, music vibrates off of the walls. Dina rolls her eyes. " You just keep making things worse by pranking her. She was pissed when you sent 50 pizzas over and she had to pay. No wonder she's throwing another party. "

" She'll easily make the $300 back. She sells fucking drugs, she makes more than I do. " I mutter.

" Maybe try talking to her again? I mean, if it's bugging you that much, it's always worth another shot. Just don't piss her off this time. " Abby suggests, her eyes not tearing away from the medical anatomy book in her hands.

" She's pissed off by everything I do. I literally asked to borrow a pencil once and she told me to fuck off. " I sigh. " But I guess it's worth a shot. Are you guys seriously not bothered by the constant noise? "

Dina shrugs. " Not really. I mean, we live on party row. Of course people are going to throw parties all night. "

I just want some peace. At least like an hour.

I push myself up from my spot on our couch. I'll just try asking nicer.

Once again, I find myself wandering through Ellie's house trying to find her. Eventually my eyes land on the brunette. Her head is tossed back from laughter, her blunt loosely hanging out of her fingers. She's manspreading on the couch, a guy snorting what I assume is coke next to her.

Her eyes eventually find mine as she scans the room. A small smirk makes its' way onto her face. She breathes in another puff from her blunt before releasing it in my direction.

God, even through the smoke she's hot.

" Look who's here guys, the cockblocker. " Ellie teases. " What can I do for you, babe? "

My stomach tumbles from the pet name. I can't tell if it's from nerves or from excitement.

I ignore the feeling, trying to focus on the reason I came over here.

" I wanted to see if we could work out a deal. " I stand a few feet away from the brunette, my eyes not leaving hers.

Ellie's eyes break contact as they scan me up and down. " A deal? " She leans forward, her full attention on me. " What kind of deal? " her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity.

" The kind where we both end up happy. You get to throw your parties and I get a full nights' sleep. "

Ellie stands up, taking a step closer to me. The faint scent of cologne and weed fills my nostrils. " Go on. "

" I'll pay you 100 bucks a week to shut the parties down at 10. Please. "

" No. " Ellie's voice is cool.

I furrow my eyebrows. " No? " I was really hoping she'd take the deal. I mean, who doesn't want free fucking money. The only thing she'd have to do is shut down the party. " What? Um, fine. I can probably do like 10 bucks more. But barely, I'd have to pick up a few more shifts. I- "

Ellie interrupts me. " I don't want your money, Y/N. "

" Then what do you want? " I ask, desperation in my tone. " I can't stay up like this anymore. I've-I've tried earplugs, white nose, everything. Fuck I- "

" I want you to go out with me. "

Ellie's words surprise me.

I search her face for any sign of a joke.

Her expression is serious. Her eyes stare into mine. A glinter of what I think might be worry or nervousness shining at me.

" What? "

Ellie repeats the words. " I want you to go out with me. I'll stop the parties if you go out with me. " She shrugs, pulling the blunt up to her slightly chapped lips.

My eyebrows furrow. " But why? "

Ellie rolls her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. " Because you clearly want to. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you check me out. Not that I have an issue, I think you're hot too. "

I feel heat burn against my cheeks. " I do not check you out. "

Ellie nods mockingly. " Sure you don't, babe. What I said still stands. If you go on a date with me, " She shrugs. " I'll stop the parties. "

" Completely? " I ask.

" Completely. " She confirms.

I'm silent for a minute. Ellie continues to look into my eyes, her confident exterior seeming to grow slightly less confident as the time goes on. She looks a little nervous. I've never seen her like this before.

" Fine. " I finally talk. " I'll go out with you. "

Relief flashes across Ellie's face. " Alright. " She grins. " Friday sound good? "

I nod. " Friday. "

Hopefully this is worth it.

Tag: @macaroni676

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the-offside-rule · 2 years ago

Text

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Pizza Delivery

Requested: yes

Warnings: nope

Y/n sat reading through her notes in her parent's house. She had a big exam coming up soon and she had been doing nothing but studying and she was sating with her parents due to her learning being online now. "Y/n? We'll be back soon. We're just going to the shops." Your mother announced. "And we'll be back if I'm lucky." your dad muttered earning a glare from your mother. "That's fine. See you later then." She replied not even turning her head from her book. "Don't forget to eat darling. You haven't even left that seat." Y/n just blocked the noise out and continued on studying by herself. It had been a good hour or so when she was torn from her thoughts by the doorbell ringing. She let out a loud groan and walked towards the door to open it, only to be confronted by a pizza delivery guy. She looked down confused and realised he probably messed up the addresses. "Oh, I didn't order a pizza."she said politely. "For Lando Norris, he doesn't live here?" the delivery guys asked. Y/n shook her head. "Nope." she said popping the 'p'. "Well I have to leave it somewhere." He said handing it over. "Fine, that's fine. I'll just...ask around for where this Lando guys lives then." she said. "Thanks miss."

Y/n called their neighbour and asked who Lando was. She was given a few suggestive answers, almost as if she knew who this Lando person was but she shrugged it off. She had to get back to studying quickly, no time to waste. She eventually found out it was the guy to their left so she grabbed a jumper and put it on before walking out to go to the mystery person's house. She knocked on the door a few times and waited patiently for him to answer. He seemed to be taking a long time but he eventually answered. "Oh hi there." A brunette boy said opening the door. She practically swooped, even though she didn't entirely know in that moment. His green eyes were gorgeous, that much she figured. "Oh hi. I'm your neighbour to your right and well your pizza was delivered to my house by mistake." she explained trying to keep the stuttering to a minimum. Lando watched her, taking in all her features. She was quite pretty and she seemed like a very nice girl but he'd never met her before, never even seen her around. Maybe she was new.

"But anyway, I guess I'll be off. Enjoy your pizza." Y/n smiled before turning around to leave, only to be called back by Lando. "Wait, I can't possibly eat this whole pizza by myself. How about you come in and maybe have a slice yourself?" She had to study but before she realised what she was doing, she nodded her head and accepted the offer. She sat down and the pair started talking for ages, both had forgotten whatever plans they once had and the time for that matter. She looked around and saw multtiplee different helmets and then came the conversation about him being a driver. "It must be so cool going around to all these different places and just driving." She smiled. "It's amazing, I really love doing it." he replied. "What about you? What do you do?"

"You're a racing driver, I'm sure you have a lot more interesting things to talk about than asking what I do." she chuckled. "Yeah but, I'd like to get to know my neighbour a bit better." Her heart fluttered. What.the.fuck. What a gentleman! "Oh well, I study physiotherapy in-" she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. Without even looking at the ID, she picked it up. "Hello?" she chirped. "Y/n! Where are you?! We're worried sick!" She realised she was meant to be at home, she was meant to be studying. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I'll be back, I just went for a walk." She hung up and quickly stood up. "I'm so sorry to cut this short but I have ton get home. It was lovely meeting you though." Lando stood up and walked her to the door. "Yeah, dont worry about it." he said opening it for her. "Maybe we could continue our conversation some other time." she said. "I'd love to, just call around anytime after four. I'll probably be at home by then." Y/n and nodded. "Will do. See you around Lando!" she said walking away. "See ya!"

Once she got out of his driveway, she began sprinting back to her house, nearly falling multiple times too. She finally got to her house and basically crashed through the door. "I'm back!" she announced, trying to make it sound like she wasn't just out of breath. "Where the hell were you?" her mother asked taking her coat from her. "I just went for a walk down the street." she lied. Her mother gave her an unamused look. "What?" she asked confused. "Y/n, can a tree move by its own free will?" she shook her head. "Can it write?" she shook her head again. "Then I doubt a tree left you their phone number in your pocket." Her face went red as she saw a piece of paper come out of her pocket and in her mother's hand. She snatched and scrunched it up. "It's about time you tried to get a boyfriend though." She laughed walking away. "He's not my boyfriend! He's a neighbour!" she retaliated and let out a loud sigh. "Fuck sake." she muttered before opening up the piece of paper and smiling at thee message.

Here's my number in case you ever want to stop by and do a pizza delivery again

-Lando

#f1 #lando norris #lando norris imagines #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader

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somberauthor · 7 months ago

Note

so i was looking at your ‘what i write for’ list and saw helluva boss and nobody has asked you for any(to my knowledge), and i kinda want to change that. Could you maybe do an Octavia one where reader shares music with her? it would be platonic, and maybe you could make it kinda angst-y???(if you’re comfortable with that of course!!).

I'M SO SORRY FOR LIKE... NOT POSTING FOR A WHILE (I do that a lot and it's kinda not good chat...) I'm here now though, and I'm on summer break so I SHOULD be able to like... get through all of my requests now. BUT YEAH PLS ENJOY MY PROJECTION ONTO OCTAVIA!!!

You had been friends with Octavia for a while now. Neither of you could remember how at this point, you just spawned in each others lives one day and you two just couldn't be separated. You two had just met up at your house, talking about non-important things.

You both just stopped talking as you closed the door to your room, the silence quickly becoming unnerving. You cleared your throat as you went to your laptop, listening to Octavia shuffle onto the bed. There was a lot of teenage awkward tension in the air, and no matter how good of friends you two may have been, Teenage awkwardness never leaves until graduation.

''What music do you like listening to?'' you had asked this question many times before but she'd just respond with a shrug and just a simple ''rocks cool, but i dunno.''. This time was different though.

''I like the band Fuck You Dad. It's kinda... Metal-ish? I'm not sure what genre it would fall into other than metal.'' She shrugged, leaning up. The tension was still in the air due to the silence of no one moving, but it was lifting with every sound made.

''You want me to put the band on? I'll show you some of my favorites after if you'd like.'' You spoke, looking for the band's account on your favorite music platform.

''Sure. Put on the song My World Is Burning Down Around Me.'' She fiddled with her sleeve, seeming almost uncharacteristically afraid to say the title. I mean, it certainly was a title. It almost made you worried about her, but you'd rather just listen to the music before making yourself worried over something so little as music. You've thought for so long that you've found the song and your cursor is just... hovering over it. You found it almost a minute ago, and now the computers just getting antsy.

You click on the play button, letting the song begin and rush out of your speakers. She definitely wasn't lying when she said it was metal. You queue up some of your sad songs, so she didn't have to be the only vulnerable one. Once you finished up with the queue, you went and sat down next to her. You two spoke occasionally, the both of you much more focused on the music than simple conversation.

Once the song ended, a different song began, one that you happened to relate deeply to. You looked at her, sudden fear struck you. It was about the issues with your parents, and the fact your mother was a raging asshole. You looked over at Octavia, making sure she didn't seem bored or seem worried or upset. She seemed lost in thought, you just looked around.

''Y'know... I've never heard this song, what is it called?'' She looked over at you, snapping herself out of whatever trance had caught her attention. You jump ever so slightly at her voice. You answer her with a smile, looking over at her.

''Why do you ask?'' You ask, a quizzical expression carved on your face.

''I... I relate to it.'' Your eyes widen slightly, she had the same struggle? Nice. Or uh. Not nice?

''Same. You really need to catch me up on the Octavia Lore.'' You chuckle, earning a snicker from the owl next to you.

''Yeah like I'm the one who's secretive about my mom.'' It's true she complained as things were happening but... She had never told you about her childhood with her mother.

''Well... uh... hush.'' You chuckled once again, all the tension and anxiety melting away all at once with a single smile.

You two were gonna be inseparable for as long as you two knew each other.

#authors #ao3 #fanfic #helluva boss #helluvaboss #helluva octavia #octavia goetia #octavia #helluva boss stella #octavia x reader #octavia goetia x reader #im sorry if she's out of character this is a lot of projection

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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 months ago

Text

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I might pause the posting a moment to write the rest because I'm falling behind sorry! -Danny Words: 2,589 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Four' -by The Wrecks

XX: This Is Not Very Yeehaw of You

Percy and Lily knock on her bedroom door while she's packing. "Oh, cool," Ara mumbles. "I'm totally not worried that you two want to talk to me in private..."

Percy leaves the door ajar. "You got time?"

"Well, Leo is taking a nap in his cabin, Calypso is down the hall, also sleeping, and Lester is packing his stuff, so..."

Both teens come closer. Lily folds clothes into rolls and squares and hands them over to Percy, who tries to pack them neatly in Ara's bag. While they're at it, Lily starts talking. "We just came to ask what our instructions are this time..."

The way things happen is never ideal, but Lily is starting to realize planning does not warrant an easy journey, unexpected events are going to thwart their lives on the regular and she's come to terms with it. Ara not so much, she was hoping that getting Leo back would equal some peace of mind, but now they're packing up for another world-changing quest.

"Percy has no instructions other than to mind his business, I'm sure Annabeth will get him through. As for camp... You and Malcolm can work with Nyssa to rebuild the Pavilion and the docks. If we're lucky I'll be back before summer."

Percy and Lily share a look. "What about Calypso?" Lily asks.

"She's coming with us, so no need to worry about her," Ara sighs. "Personally, I don't think she'll help much, but I understand why she wants to stick by Leo's side. He's the only friend she's had in a while, so to be on a quest with him is better than alone with strangers."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I think it's time we let her do whatever she wants."

Percy hums, staring at the hoodie in his hands. "It wasn't cool that she tossed out a curse at Annabeth, but I swore I would get her out and then I never saw it through. Frustration can mess with your mind. And arai are just ill-thoughts tossed out to the open, I don't think she was expecting it to reach Annabeth like that..."

"I don't know, Percy. I can't figure her out," Ara makes a face. "She's human, but her emotions are still so godly, and gods don't think like we do. Perhaps she meant it but thought it a lesser evil—as in, we're just human, so why care about us... At least that's how Apollo feels."

Lily scoffs. "And you still want to help him?"

"I'll be helping us in the process. And what else am I good for, really? Hestia tried to tell me before, a soldier always finds ways to stay on their feet. I think that's not how it should be worded, more like, a soldier is always more comfortable while on their feet."

Percy shrugs. "But it doesn't have to go hand in hand with war."

"Maybe the gods wouldn't care if you decided to sit this one out, Queen B," Lily tries. "It's not like you don't have things to do around here."

"And trust Apollo will do what's right?" She raises a brow. "Plus, Leo can't sit this one out, Lester needs Festus. And I'm not letting Leo get away from me if I can help it."

"That, I can totally relate to," Percy sighs, leaving the hoodie on the bed. "No offense to Leo, but sometimes I wish you hadn't ever gotten a boyfriend."

"Same," Lily mutters grumpily.

"Hey, you'll go away with Annabeth come the summer," Ara reminds him. "So we're parting ways no matter what. And you, Lily, have Connor."

Lily stares at the board near the dresser with a scowl, probably going through all the multiple ways this is bound to go wrong. "Everyone is going places..."

Percy rubs the back of his neck, getting a little defensive. "Just for a while, but you'll be coming to New Rome for college too, once you're eighteen. It'll be fine."

"True," Lily sighs. "If we get through this."

Ara lowers her eyes to keep on packing. "I guess... Yeah."

"You've got a lot to get done all around the country, the future is a blur," Lily pulls out the Aphrodite figurine from her pocket and hands it to her. "For my peace of mind."

"Is it blessed?" The girl takes it.

"Please," Lily rolls her eyes. "Like you need more of those. No, that's... so you remember you've got people here that want to see you come home in one piece. Even if things don't go as planned."

Ara hugs her tightly. "I know you have this urgent need to get out... Just now I'm realizing that you've been in camp for so long... staying was your way of showing faith in what I do. I can't thank you enough."

Lily buries her face on Ara's shoulder. "I wish you would've realized that sooner."

"Me too." Ara sniffs, holding the girl by the shoulders. "I can't promise it'll be you and me until the end, but laurel wreaths and godly blessings hold no candles to the honor of being your best friend."

Lily hugs her again. "Shut up. I love you too."

Percy takes a moment to talk to Ara by the seashore. "So... I talked to Calypso."

"How'd that go?" Ara hums, scratching Mrs O'Leary's ear.

"There were apologies, some awkward laughs... Leo was there to make sure no one would get strangled," He says sarcastically, scratching Pollo's chin.

"And you feel better now?"

"Better isn't the right word," Percy makes a face. "I don't think we'll ever be friends, not like Leo and her, but... only time will tell."

"Did she say anything about me?"

Her brother raises a brow. "About what?"

The girl shrugs, avoiding his eyes. "Dunno. Anything..."

"Anything about... you and Leo?" He asks knowingly.

"Did she say anything about that?"

"Even if she wanted to, Leo was there, and she's already looking bad for cursing one girlfriend, I don't think she's interested in trying her luck with Leo. He's deeply radical about his way of handling the people who hate you."

Ara snorts. "You don't know him enough to say that."

"I know him," Percy states with utter certainty. "He's just like you."

"This feels too personal so I'm pressing skip," Ara pokes his shoulder. "Skip."

Percy smiles, then changes the subject. "Do you wanna go home to tell Mom and Dad what's gonna happen?"

"We don't do that," Ara pauses. "Unless you think I should?"

"I know you'll come back," Percy brushes it aside. "It's just... All your winter clothes are home—"

"Percy."

"You could take some snacks too, blue cookies, gummy sharks..."

"Tell me the truth."

"I... wanted you to see me graduate, and be there for Estelle's birth," Percy gives in. "And we both know this quest isn't going to solve itself over one weekend. The Triumvirate is the source of literally all of our past issues, it could take years to bring them down."

"Everyone keeps listing all the bad things I already know about this journey," Ara reaches for his hand. "I would like my brother to find something else to say so I don't leave completely bummed out."

Percy looks a bit ashamed. "Well... this quest might be the quest, you know? Every child of Olympus has a story of when they were at the peak of success, power, and youth. That's going to be you this time, so... go make history."

"Now that's more like it," Ara smiles. "If it makes you feel better, Nemo, I'm certain this is what I must do. There was only one path to follow on this, and that means it's going to work out no matter what."

It's hard to part ways with Percy, not just for the life-threatening quest, but knowing that if she can't come back before June, they'll never be together again. He'll be there at every holiday and birthday, but it won't be the same. It'll never be as it was at thirteen and eleven years old.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispers, leaving out 'the rest of my life', but Percy hears it in the quivering of her voice anyway.

"Only at times," he retorts, hugging her tightly.

Since the Pavilion got smashed to bits, she's allowed to eat with the rest of the campers for the first time in forever. Ara, Leo, Calypso, and Apollo share a blanket, Ara is trying to get used to this combination of people because it's the only company she'll have for a while.

Festus walks around the cabins hiccuping balls of fire at random times—the reason why Leo doesn't allow her to hug the dragon yet. "He got a little dinged up in Corsica," Leo explains while they eat. "Sometimes he spews randomly like that."

"He hasn't blowtorched anyone important yet," Calypso eyes Apollo. "We'll see how he likes you."

"I had planned to go alone," Apollo says miserably. "The prophecy from Dodona speaks of the bronze fire-eater, but... it feels wrong for me to ask you to risk your lives. You have been through so much just to get here."

Calypso seems surprised by his statement. "Perhaps you have changed. That does not sound like the Apollo I remember. You definitely are not as handsome."

"I am still quite handsome. I just need to clear up this acne." He argues, his cheeks flushing.

"So you haven't completely lost your big head."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Guys," Leo sighs, "if we're going to travel together, let's try to keep it friendly." He reaches for Ara's hand. I'm talking to you too. "Besides, we were planning to head west anyway. I got to find my peeps Jason and Piper and Frank and Hazel and... well, pretty much everybody at Camp Jupiter, I guess. It'll be fun."

"Fun?" Apollo sounds exasperated. "The Oracle of Trophonius will supposedly swallow me in death and madness. Even if I survive that, my other trials will no doubt be long, harrowing, and quite possibly fatal."

"Exactly," Leo flashes him a crooked smile. "Fun. I don't know about calling the whole quest thing Apollo's trials, though. I think we should call it Leo Valdez's Victory Lap World Tour."

"Actually," Ara says. "Percy said this is my time to shine, and I'm calling pretty privilege on this thing."

"Hey, that's not—!"

"—What does that even mean?" The boys demand grumpily.

Calypso's laugh blurts out before she can stop it and she covers her mouth, looking embarrassed. Of what? Ara has no clue. Perhaps she thinks she isn't allowed to enjoy Ara's jokes because she's acted a little crazy in the past. Ara can't blame her, she's currently going crazy every month or so.

"You know, Calypso," she starts politely. "If you're coming with us, I'll make sure you're prepared."

"What do you mean?"

"You need weapons," Ara explains. "You look like a dagger girl—but also a bag with bombs and grenades has never hurt nobody... er, you know what I meant. I can train you."

"Okay," Calypso nods, slightly taken aback. "Am I... part of your army now?"

Ara tilts her head. "Great question. I suppose that depends on you. Lester is under my command because he's the son of Zeus. You, on the other hand..."

"My father was a titan, so not exactly part of Olympus..." Calypso nods pensively.

Ara shrugs. "I've got enough people to look after as it is—I'll look after you all the same as long as we're on this quest together, but uhm... it's your choice, really. Everything from now on is."

Calypso glows pink. "Oh. In that case, I... I'll be part of your army."

Ara isn't expecting that answer at all. "What? Why?"

"I want to be strong again, and if I don't have my powers, then I'll train and get better."

"Good idea, Cal," Leo smiles. "Ara's the best fighter there is, you'll learn a lot from her."

There is nothing Ara respects more than a demigod willing to take the punches just to come out stronger. She reaches for Calypso's hand and holds it firmly. "I know how it feels to be vulnerable. If you want my assistance, you'll have it."

Calypso shakes her hand with certainty. Next to them, Apollo visibly deflates, staring at their hands like it's the saddest view on earth. "Hey, man," Leo speaks, guessing as to what he's thinking. "Don't look so glum. We'll find her."

"What?" Apollo blinks.

"Your friend Meg. We'll find her. Don't worry."

The boy runs a hand over his tired expression. "Meg knows the prophecy. If she tells Nero, he will know our plans as well."

"I missed the whole Roman Empire," Calypso leans back while biting on an apple. "How bad can one emperor be?"

"Bad," Lester huffs. "And he is allied with two others. We don't know which ones, but it's safe to assume they are equally cutthroat. They've had centuries to amass fortunes, acquire property, build armies... Who knows what they are capable of?"

"Eh... We took down Gaea in, like, forty seconds. This'll be easy squeezy."

"No, Leo," Ara insists. "Gaea was a primal force that was bound to her nature, there were things she could not overcome. These guys... they haven't been sleeping, they know the world far and wide, made themselves gods, and don't have rules, nor respect for honor. It won't be a fair fight."

Leo frowns. "Nothing about me dying was exactly fair, though."

"No, but..." Ara thinks about the best way to phrase this for him. "At least Gaea tried to buy the car, these guys will break a window, try to get it to run, and if that doesn't work they'll tow it to their parking lot just to get money from reselling the radio."

Calypso and Apollo look extremely confused at her metaphor, but Leo's face shifts into full understanding. "Dang, those guys are monsters..."

"Beasts," she corrects bitterly. "It's not them we're fighting, it's their armies, and maybe, just maybe, at some point, we'll reach them."

"Ah, damn," Leo says, his southern accent gets stronger when he's stressed. "Now it don't sound as fun..."

"We'll succeed," Calypso pipes in making an effort to be optimistic. "We must. So we will. I have been trapped on an island for thousands of years. I don't know how long this mortal life will be, but I intend to live fully and without fear."

"Perhaps to ensure we can at least survive the journey, we should do a full checkup on Festus first thing tomorrow morning," Ara replies, watching as the dragon stumbles over its own paws.

"Sure thing, General," Leo smiles, happy to work with her. "As soon as Festus gets a tune-up and an oil change, we'll be good to go."

"I've got us all packed, so you two focus on resting," Ara tells Calypso and Lester.

Will Solace gets up and speaks. "Hey, everybody! We've started a bonfire in the amphitheater! Sing-along time. Come on!"

Ara and Leo make the same face. "Aw, man." He whines. "I'm terrible at sing-alongs. I always clap and do the 'Old MacDonald' sounds at the wrong time. Can we skip this?"

"I second that. I like singing, but right now I'm yearning for some peace and quiet..." Ara nods, feeling completely drained after the rollercoaster of a day she's had.

"Oh, no." Apollo declines the offer. "Singing is good for the spirits. You should never miss an opportunity to sing."

"He says that as self-promo," Ara jokes, holding Leo's hands as they get up.

Calypso grins. "Well, I can't believe I'm saying this, but for once I agree with Apollo. Though you two can er... rest, if you like." The girl glances at Leo as if communicating something in silence.

"Yeah, have a good night, guys," Leo waves with his free hand. He takes a moment to enjoy Ara's proximity before talking. "Rest sounds real nice, but I'd like to talk to you in private for a sec. Can we?" He points at the beach and Ara smiles, a bunch of fond memories coming back to her.

"Lead the way."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #toa fanfic

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jokeroutsubs · 11 months ago

Text

[ENG SUB] 🎈🍰Bday Special🍰🎈Odkrito.si podcast with Kris Guštin and Bojan Cvjetićanin (Joker Out)

youtube

You can find the original podcast in Slovenian here.

We made a readable transcript of the podcast (which is audio only) and you can find it under the cut.

Transcript:

I've got two out of the four hottest guys in Slovenia in front of me, Kris Guštin and Bojan Cvjetićanin from Joker Out. Welcome to the Odkrito podcast.

Kris: Hi. Can I correct you right now?

Please.

Kris: Out of five.

Out of five. Well, right. I've obviously forgotten another one then, haven't I. How does a young person like you two feel when they become, sort of, instantaneously famous? And now, I don't know, girls are fainting, going to concerts… etc. How does that feel?

Bojan: It's actually quite okay because in Slovenia fame doesn't exist. So you can live an almost completely normal life. Except that girls do faint, but that's also always nice.

Kris: Well, yeah, it's an interesting feeling. I have to say that I don't really have a concretely articulated feeling about this. For now, I'm diving back into it every day. Now we'll see if it ever gets too much or not.

Back in the day, when the Beatles were around, or we had Bijelo Dugme in the former Yugoslavia, girls used to go (to concerts) in large numbers, screaming, etc. …and they were being pulled by the sleeves, chased through the streets. Is this happening to you too?

Kris: On the streets, not really, if anything, we get asked to take a picture. When you're in public, and when you're not presenting as your public persona, they usually leave you alone, but at concerts it's crazier, because you're with the whole band together, and you're this unit that everybody's screaming for. It can be exhausting at those times, but it's actually also fun.

Are there any panties, bras… being thrown on stage?

Kris: Pearl necklaces.

Bojan: Yeah.

Has that happened yet?

Bojan: It has already happened, yeah.

It has already happened. So you're saying that Slovenian women are not as reserved as one would think?

Kris: No.

Bojan: I mean, technically we don't know if it's the Slovenian women who are throwing. But, yeah, let's say they're not.

Aha. One of the famous singers in Slovenia said that fame helps her to maybe get a nicer cut of beef from the butcher. You said earlier, Bojan, that there is no fame in Slovenia. Is this maybe one part where (fame) can help you?

Kris: I haven't gotten a nicer cut of beef at the butcher's yet.

Bojan: Okay, I did have a couple of nice bonuses like that, perhaps because of that. Some little things, but they come in handy every now and then.

Kris: What's cool is that everybody invites you to movie premieres. That's a pretty nice thing.

Bojan: I found it sweet when I was late returning an item to the shop once and the saleswoman was insisting that I couldn't exchange it any more, but she kept looking down at the floor when she was saying that, and then when she looked up she said 'Oh, it's you! Okay, well, I'll let it slide.'

That is to say that there are small advantages nevertheless. As far as the fame is concerned, if that's what we're talking about, Bojan you are the most exposed as a frontman. You're also the most frequently featured. Kris, you have a famous - at least in Slovenian terms - father. So there's that, too. You two are all over the place now. Maybe it's getting a bit annoying, almost? Isn't it?

Bojan: Yeah. We're getting sick of ourselves.

You're getting sick of yourselves?

Kris: I mean, we often ask ourselves, gee, are we going to do that thing as well? Because we're really everywhere, but in the end you have to know that you're looking at it from your perspective, that you're exposed to yourself only, whereas an average person, even with how much Bojan is in the media, sees him maybe once a week, if that. Now that he's in all the commercials, maybe there will be more.

Bojan: There will be a little bit more.

Now we really see you in the commercials, you hosted EMA Fresh, you hosted EMA. That duet of yours with Maja Keuc, where you two performed Zitti e Buoni - for which many said was much better than the original! Do you consider that an honour?

Bojan: I mean, I count myself honoured, I would never say it was better than original. But I'm very pleased that there was such a good response. I just set out on a mission to infiltrate the Slovenian media space to the maximum.

And you're doing a pretty good job of it now!

Bojan: Yeah, yeah, but I have to do more still!

What else have you got planned then?

Bojan: Fifty commercials.

Fifty commercials, do you have any special… we can talk to somebody here.

Bojan: No, no, I'm kidding.

Kris: By the summer he won't be famous anymore because everyone will get sick of him.

Bojan: Exactly. You've got five minutes.

Five minutes. Okay, now your five minutes is going on right now. I hope they'll stretch out a little bit. Two years ago, you were nominated for Zlata Piščal (Golden Flute), as Joker Out, for Best Newcomer. Then performers of the year. You're nominated for four again this year.

Bojan: For three…

So for band of the year, and two… album of the year?

Kris: Artist, song - with two songs - I guess that makes four - and also for album of the year.

Also for album of the year!

Kris: Yeah yeah, quite an honour, I have to say. But I think I speak for both of us if I say that if we get the album, we'll be more than happy. Because we've been saying for a year or two now, 'Okay, now we've got artist of the year, newcomer, and now, because we've been doing this album for three years, it would be really sick to get that as well.'

It would be good to get the album as well. Then all you're missing is the Golden Flute Award for lifetime achievement. And that's when, in…?

Both: In one year!

Already?

Bojan: Our five minutes are running out, we're at 4.5 now, so next year.

So is this the end of Joker Out or what? Do you have that plan?

Bojan: Yeah, Kris and I are going solo. Duo solo!

Kris: Disco duo solo!

Oh, change of style and everything.

Bojan: Yeah.

Okay, that'll be interesting to see how that thing develops. But - because this is probably just a joke - what's your view on the future, let's say? Do you see yourselves in 10 years still in a band - in the same band - or maybe even in 20, 30…?

Kris: I don't know, I don't think that far ahead. I mean, whenever I did, I was like, 'Come on stop thinking, you can't know anything yet.' I think the less expectations we have for the future, the better it will be, but so far it's going very well and I think we're trying to make it last as long as possible. I wouldn't dare to claim what will happen, though.

What about you, Bojan?

Bojan: Well, I'll be more optimistic. I kind of always wanted, or rather, when we started this story, I always imagined that it would be something that would last. It will last until it feels good for us in reality, right. When it stops feeling good for us, when it stops being a pleasure… in reality, the only thing we don't want is to end up doing it just so we can live off it.

Kris: Yeah yeah, and that's why I'm maybe a little bit more pessimistic about it. Because I don't want to determine my own destiny like that, and then we end up doing something that we don't like to do. Which - it seems to me - happens a lot with some performers.

That they continue to force it-

Kris: They work just because they became 'somebody' and they just continue like that. I think that's why, for example, Duft Punk, who went their separate ways a year ago, I think that was… I mean, I was sorry to see them go their separate ways, but if it was the right decision I understand and I respect that.

Bojan: Exactly.

Well, then you two see yourselves as, say, Mick Jagger, at 70 on stage, but only if it's all still shagadelic?

Bojan: Yeah, but, I mean, ultimately, even if it doesn't happen, we're friends first and foremost, and I'm sure that even if at some point this story came to an end, we'd still be working in various forms, sort of together, or at least be some sort of supporting pillar for each other at some point.

Kris: For example, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers have accepted and thrown out one guitar player three times already, so.

Bojan: He's just come back.

Kris: Yeah, he's just come back.

So there's all these other scenarios, but basically, the main focus for, let's say, the two of you in the future is still music?

Both: Yeah.

Kris, seeeing as you are a chemical engineer, ah, no, an Engineer of Chemical Technology, you (Bojan) are a sociologist or I don't know if you have graduated already?

Bojan: No, this year.

Okay, so fingers crossed. I think you once said Bojan that if you were a professor, you would be a professor at the Poljane Grammar School, is that still true?

Bojan: I said that the only profession that I would be happy to do, apart from being a musician, would be a professor of sociology and I would prefer that to be at the Poljane Grammar School.

Why there?

Bojan: This is my high school, which I have really fond memories of, and I feel like I could take over the theater club, and those kinds of things, like being that cool professor.

Okay, so a cool professor, a professor that we like. What about you Kris, alternative to music?

Kris: Well, I'll put it this way: chemical engineering for me is more or less just on paper. Even if the music thing doesn't work out, I don't know if I'll ever really be doing that. Now I'm going to say I don't really have an alternative. The music comes first and I think it's going to stay that way. I don't know if anything will change, but the side activities are always there.

For example?

Bojan: Football on Sundays

Kris: No, one interesting thing that I talk with Martin, our bassist, about, is that maybe one day - because that's part of the music business as well - we could have our own record label. That's maybe something that we, or I, would be interested in, to get involved in this kind of support industry in music. Otherwise, I really have no idea what I'm going to do if the music thing doesn't go through.

In a way, you're still learning as you go along, given that you've now been 3, 4 years… What, 6? But out of that, you're a bit more at the front in the last 2, 3 years. You're still getting a bit of an introduction to the music industry. What's your opinion of the music industry in Slovenia?

Bojan: Yeah there's a lot of room for progress. What's absolutely happening is that music has again become kind of important for young people in Slovenia.Young people are very aware that Slovenian content creation in all areas is extremely, extremely important and that music is gaining in value, which was definitely not always the case. For the last 10, 15 years, I would dare to say that music has been treated very much as a hobby activity.

People simply just perceived it that way as well, so I think it's all going in the right direction now, but it would definitely be nice to do a lot more in the sense of professionalisation of music.

Is this still lacking in our country?

Bojan: Yes.

Kris: Yeah, it's quite interesting, this music business in Slovenia, because on the one hand it seems to me that all the musicians want to be taken very seriously, want to be serious professional musicians, and make a living out of it, but on the other hand, they have a full time job during the day and they can't really dedicate as much time as they could. That's why our producer, Žarko Pak, is always complaining why there aren't many good instrumentalists in Slovenia. It's because no one wants to spend as much time as it would take to become a really good instrumentalist of their era, by just practicing their instrument, because then it's like this: He goes to work and then he comes home and he has to get the kids from kindergarten, and then maybe he has half an hour in the evening, before he watches the daily news, to fiddle around with his instrument a little bit.

But there's one little vicious circle in all this, because you've got to live off of something somehow. How do you two manage to do it? I guess you two are investing most into music now? Music is way ahead of all the projects, let's say. Well, Kris, at least you've finished your education, you (Bojan) have yet to graduate. How do you manage to juggle the two together, how is that going?

Bojan: I think, in principle, we're really a very diligent band, as far as that goes, given that when I finish, we'll all have university degrees. And it was actually very much as Kris said. I mean, school was sort of a priority, but it was a very divided priority, in this case with music. Because really, besides that minimal effort that we had to put in to get the school part done, all the other effort, and indeed all the resources that we were raising as we went, in one way or another - like with student work and such - all of that was invested into the band. And we have a different starting point anyway, we can't speak for someone who is, let's say, in their 30s, because we are students after all, or rather, when we started, we were high school students. We live at home or we used to live at home, so that financial part was a little bit different for us as we were very lucky. But anyway, we ourselves, until practically very recently, even though we've been kind of in the media and presenting as successful - there were still more times where we had to go to ATM to withdraw the money we've earned to cover something, than to withdraw the money we've earned to spend it. So, yes.

But the future for you then is probably in music, to live off that then, isn't it? If not exactly from Joker Out, then from whatever else - from anything in the music industry. Is that possible in Slovenia at all?

Bojan: Yes, it is. But it's very, very difficult to get there.

Kris: It's just that, I mean, if you want to make a living exclusively from authorship, there are only 10, 20 people who do that. You have to be a really top-notch author, writer, arranger, whatever. The other big source of income are also concerts. The more gigs you do the better. Basically, nowadays when performers are looking at how they're going to survive financially over the year, the first thing they have to look at is 'let's do as many gigs as possible'. I think for us that will probably be the best thing as well.

Bojan: I have to correct myself in retrospect, actually. This exactly is the problem: It's possible, but there's quite a lot of other side activities that have to be included that don't directly involve music. I mean, they come with the music, but they are not part of the music. That is to say, you can make a living out of concerts and authorship and things like that, but it's more of a 'barely getting by' than anything else. So, on our own, there is a lot to be done here to raise the bar.

But can you imagine what it's like to live like that then. You have to keep going to the studios, you have to keep working on it. Where is the free time then?

Bojan: Well, where's the free time if you're in an office for 8 hours and you have to be with bitter people and bitter clients or whoever it is you're working with. At least here you're in the studio, you're creating something, you're with the people you love.

Kris: I might disagree with you on that. I'm just going to say, there's a certain rumour that musicians have a job like this where we can choose our own schedule. This is good, however, there's a catch: if you can choose your own schedule you also have to be available all the time, basically. So you have a very blurred line between work, leisure, workplace, home, studio, etc. It all becomes the same thing. I have a second hand experience in that, because I just see my father, how he lives solely from the music. He may be at home all day in the morning, but then he may have to be in the studio until 3 in the morning, because they are recording something, and because our producer, who is the same as our own, is a night owl or whatever you want to call him.

Bojan: Yeah, but then it just depends on whether you're comfortable with that or not.

Kris: Yeah, yeah.

Bojan: But what Kris said is just absolutely true. You don't really have a private life. It almost doesn't exist because of the fact that there is constantly something.

Kris: But you don't realize it until it's too late.

And as young people, are you two ready for something like that?

Bojan: For now, yes.

Kris: For now everything still works fine.

Does it all look a bit romantic, or not?

Bojan: It's honestly lost a lot of the romanticism for me, but it's still much more romantic than having to wake up in the morning and be on a fixed schedule. We are different, I know that Kris would for sure prefer to have everything neatly planned.

Kris: I really like to be on time, I don't like to be late, but I also don't like to get up early, so I'm somewhere in the...

From 11 onwards.

Kris: From 11 to… a 4 hour workday!

Bojan: Like this, yes!

That would be ideal wouldn't it? Probably for a lot of people. A musician's job is a creative job. What is the most beautiful part of it for you two?

Kris: The most beautiful? Yeah, it depends. I'll put it this way. For me, if we can divide the process of the song creation phase, the first thing is that somebody writes a song, it's usually Bojan or sometimes me as well. It's written at home on the acoustic (guitar), with some melody. Then, the second phase is that you bring it to the rehearsal space, you show it to the other band members and we do it together. Then it's the studio. For me, the arrangment part, when you coordinate with everybody on what you want, how you want the whole song to sound, that can be a very fun part, if you manage to do it quickly, if you're quick to understand what you want from one another. But if not, it can be the most torturous part. Although the studio part can be quite torturous as well, so let's just say that my favourite part on average is when I'm writing a song at home.

Bojan: I would say that the arranging part is my favourite. I mean, it's very nice when you write a song, but it's also always cool when you do it together with the band, because it always goes into some twist that you didn't expect. Almost always.

Kris: That's true.

Bojan: But what Kris said is the double-edged sword of arranging. When it's going well, there is just such… Some kind of dopamine is released and we're all so happy, we all love each other. But if it's not going well, it goes into some such bizarre depression, in fact, that when we say, 'Okay, break,' you feel like we're at odds with each other.

Kris: Yeah, yeah.

Bojan: Literally like that. We're not at odds with each other, of course we're not, but...

You're a bit sullen, aren't you? It's not a good feeling, is it?

Bojan: No, it's really miserable actually. So that really crushes you and sucks out your energy for the whole day. But it's then so much nicer, when it works out. So I'd still choose that part.

Okay. When are the lyrics made? In the morning, before noon, in the evening?

Bojan: For me, in the evening.

Kris: For me, also more in the evening.

The night has its own power.

Bojan & Kris: Yes.

Kris: Why, because it seems to me that in the morning you're still fresh, and you're still in the mood to deal with life, and then towards the evening, when you've had, I don't know, a hard day, then you start going, 'Gee, I wanna write something now, because I'm getting sick of it all'.

Bojan: My brain doesn't work at all in the morning. I'm pretty useless until the afternoon.

Most creators are, I'll say, night owls. There are very few who create during the day, or start early in the morning, sit down at, I don't know, somewhere, and start.

Bojan: Because the night is really… Things happen at night that, I'll say, sweeten the life. I mean, you go out at night, you go dancing at night. In the evening you probably had your first kiss or something...

Kris: The concerts are also in the evenings. Even if you didn't want to be a night owl, you can't do that as a musician. Unless you're going to be performing in community centres at 8 p.m.. But that's… We also have schedules where we go on stage at 1 in the morning and then that affects you for at least the next 2-3 days.

Is that exhausting?

Kris: Again, it depends when.

Bojan: It's nice.

It's nice? Okay, you're still enjoying it. I was talking to a Croatian singer recently, Goran Karan, and he said that he doesn't perform in clubs anymore because he goes to bed at 10 o'clock at night and everybody else is partying.

Bojan: But Goran Karan has done his part. I mean, the evening part of it, don't get me wrong. He's really really done a lot.

Well, you're still on that path, aren't you?

Bojan: Yeah. He can afford not to play clubs anymore. Now, that was terrible, I didn't mean it like that! (laughter)

Kris: It's interesting, because for example now. when we play with older, more established acts, they always tend to put us more towards the end, and I imagine that's also because we're young, and we don't really have any demands on when we want to go on stage, whereas these older bands, I know they've got some requirements that they don't want to go on stage after 10, and you can't really blame them.

Going back to the songwriting: your songs are kind of unique in our musical space, they're a little bit different, I'll say, mostly very lyrical. Do they come from personal experiences?

Kris: Yes, exclusively.

Bojan: From personal and from the experiences of people who are - I'm speaking for myself - who are close to me, and then I try to internalize these certain feelings or events from their lives.

Kris: It's the same for me. Though I haven't really - like Bojan said - written a song about somebody else that I sympathize with. I've more often than not just written songs because I wanted to clarify something inside myself.

But then is the song that is made, let's say the first version, the same as the one we hear afterwards?

Bojan & Kris: No.

Bojan: In the vast majority, no. It happens, but it's not-

Kris: Which one was done in one sitting?

Bojan: Gola practically hasn't changed since the moment it was written. For the whole version, ours.

Kris: But there were also like 3 choruses in between.

Bojan: Yeah, but not for Joker Out. That was before, right.

Kris: Oh, that was before.

Bojan: 'Omamljeno telo' was written whole.

Kris: Okay, okay. It's just that 'Omamljeno telo' was also, let's say, if I remember correctly, written in English at first, right?

Bojan: But all of them are now.

Kris: Well, yeah, okay. But here again the line is a bit blurred, because it happens a lot of times that a text is written in English and then-

Right in the beginning?

Kris: Yes, in the beginning.

Bojan: The second album is practically -I wrote all of it in English at the beginning. Because I am able to say gibberish, just enough to make it sound good and to make it singable. And then I add-

And then what do you do, a translation into Slovene or what?

Bojan: No.

Kris: You have to - you have to separate yourself from the original meaning - because it's just some nonsense anyway.

But then isn't something lost in the song itself, in the lyrics? The message, or something like that?

Bojan: Well, not really, because the basics of the song will remain- It's going to touch on the same themes. But the words will be completely different. Because in English - firstly I don't have a complete mastery of English, neither do I feel it enough to be able to- Let's say, to feel impacted /myself/ by what I have written. Actually, these are just some phrases that connect the melody as much as possible, whereas in Slovene, I go deeper into what I feel, what I want to pour out of myself and onto the paper.

So the melody comes first and then the lyrics, or how?

Bojan: For the first album, when I was writing, I was really writing simultaneously. It was always lyrics along with the melody. Then things could change in the studio, or something, but in principle I did those at once. When I brought it to the guys, I already had a rough outline of what it was going to be, whereas now we're doing a lot of songs that are already aranged, for the second album, but they don't have Slovenian lyrics yet, at all.

Kris: And that's not a bad thing either. Even if you do the lyrics at the start which you're not required to stick to throughout, and then you update the song first with how it's going to sound with the arrangement, and then you influence it once again. When you see how it sounds when the band plays it, you can adjust the lyrics.

Bojan: Exactly.

Kris: You adapt the lyrics to that and you get some new inspiration.

Bojan: Yeah, and in fact also with the lyrics: as he said: Rhythmically, you can play with it. You see that some of the things that we play with the band, in English, rhythmically don't fit together that well, and that you can shorten something somewhere. It's nice, basically. Well, I'll say that when I finish writing it.

You're still sticking to Slovenian lyrics for now, that's what you said earlier, Bojan, that the Slovenian-

Bojan: Yes, yes, the lyrics will be in Slovenian, or actually, there are Serbo-Croatian adaptations that are already happening.

Oh, into Serbo-Croatian. What about English versions for a wider…?

Kris: Not yet.

Bojan: Not at the moment.

You're not thinking about it?

Bojan: No. Unless we're just going to record these ones that are already-

But maybe they would be hits.

Bojan: Maybe.

Kris: For all the songs we've done so far, we could put out some early English version.

But are there any 'dirty thoughts' of maybe, at some point, going outside of Slovenia? Well now you've kind of covered the Serbo-Croatian speaking area a little bit, But further, Europe, the world, America, Wembley, Madison Garden… I don't know, something like that.

Bojan: Honestly, for me, because I am aware of how many artists there are in the world who are present in these markets that we're talking about and who have the ability to have gigs at clubs and be everywhere, like we are doing it here, it seems more often than not impossible to me. Secondly, it seems to me that it's precisely this lyricism of ours, and the fact that we feel what we are saying - I think that we would lose that, wouldn't we? If we went to create just in English now, at least I personally couldn't do that. Whereas in Serbian, I found that it actually flows very well, because it's also my mother tongue, so I can really put the same emotion on the paper. Actually, if we managed to go to the Balkans, I would be extremely happy.

You're working on that, aren't you?

Bojan: Yes.

Okay. Have you ever done any performances in, I don't know, Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia?

Kris: We've done a concert in Croatia, but it was for a Slovenian audience.

Oh, for a Slovenian audience?

Kris: That doesn't count for now.

Bojan: Yes. But this year it's in the plan. We have a couple of shows booked in Serbia, so.

Kris: Yeah, and also it could be that at least one song on the new album will be in Serbian from the begining

Bojan: And that is?

Kris: 'Ona'?

Bojan: Oh. Yes, indeed!

And if it kicks off for you there, what happens then? Some Slovenian authors then suddenly start to write only in Serbo-Croatian or Croatian or Serbian. Can that happen to you?

Bojan: Well, you know what I'll tell you. I think it would be very nice to introduce a little bit of Slovene to the Balkans, because, again, it's not that different. Whatever they say, that it is, it's not like they don't understand us at all there. Because if we understand them, I suppose they could understand us, too. So it seems to me that now maybe the world is a little more open to foreign languages - because no one understands Spanish either, but they all sing, and so on - so maybe they could try to sing a little bit in Slovene, too.

Kris: That would be quite interesting.

Bojan: That would be very interesting.

Well, when we were still in the former Yugoslavia, it kind of worked. Now that there's separate countries, it's a bit more difficult, isn't it?

Bojan: As far as I know, Predin's lyrics were-

Predin's* lyrics were sung, Videosex's* lyrics were sung, and so on. There were a bunch of them that were also sung in Slovene, but nowadays there's this time distance, secondly the linguistic distance has become greater, in a way. Will you be ambassadors of the Slovene language in the former Yugoslavia then?

*Zoran Predin, Slovenian singer-songwriter from Maribor. In the 1980s, he was the front man of the new wave rock band Lačni Franz.

*Videosex was a Yugoslav synth-pop band formed in Ljubljana in 1982.

Bojan: Maybe we will break this barrier, right?

Kris: I mean, I've always had the feeling, apart from the language barriers - maybe I'm wrong - but that, I don't know, Croats, Serbs… don't like Slovenians for some historical reasons. We were the first ones to leave Yugoslavia, and whatnot, so now they won't listen to anything in Slovene because-

But I guess that's getting a little bit lost in this younger generation, isn't it?

Kris: Yeah, it is a little bit. It's faded a little bit.

That negative connotation, maybe.

Kris: I hope so.

The songs that you have are often love songs. Or, I can say, almost all.

Bojan: Quite a lot, yes. Although 'Barve Oceana' isn't.

'Barve Oceana' isn't, but others are, especially 'Umazane Misli', to me is one of the most beautiful love songs at the moment, I have to admit that. What do your girlfriends, if you have them, say to that?

Kris: What, on the fact that they're love songs?

(What do they say) about these songs?

Bojan: I don't have a girlfriend, so Kris, if you have a girlfriend?

Kris: Yeah, I mean, I, when I had a girlfriend, when I wrote a song for her, she was infinitely happy, and when we also put one of those songs on the album, it means a lot to her.

Bojan: 'Omamljeno telo'. (laughs).

Kris: No… I don't know what else to say about it, I doubt anyone would be disappointed…

But do you ever say a line or something to your girlfriend? In a poem you pour yourself out, whereas in a speech, when you're talking… Are you being poetic?

Kris: Maybe it's really easier if you have something difficult to say, maybe it's really easier if you're like 'I wrote this song'. It flows better than it would in a normal conversation, so I… When I wrote something new, I've always shown it to my girlfriend, like 'Come on, listen to this, listen to that, is it good or not?' and then she always gave her opinion.

Kris: And then I told her what I really wanted to say through it.

You, Bojan, don't have a girlfriend, but you write love songs. Is that then a longing or what?

Bojan: Yeah, longing I would say is a good word. Actually, I think love is a kind of strange thing that we can feel quite often, not necessarily in its full form, but, I don't know, you can be walking down the street and see something that you fall in love with for a moment. And you can feel things that you can then put into a song later on. That's why there are also songs that are emotionally charged. They're charged with many different forms of emotion, for the very reason that they don't come from one experience in particular, but they encompass, in a way, all the love experiences that you're constantly picking up on. So yeah, I don't know. I would say that maybe, when I'm walking around, I'm always longing to fall in love with something or someone.

Okay. Then that's a future thing for the time being. We're hoping it happens.

Bojan: Me too.

So, are the songs going to change then?

Bojan: I mean, they'll definitely change. Every major thing in life changes the way you express yourself and the way you live and the way you exist in general, so yeah, for sure.

How would you describe yourselves, are you primarily musicians or lyricists?

Bojan: I'm not musically trained, and I'm also quite hasty, so I'd say I'm a lyricists rather than a musician.

Kris: I'd say I'm a musician before I'd say I'm a lyricists.

So you're kind of a combination then, at least the two of you together, aren't you? That goes together then. But what about the other members, do they also contribute something to the lyrics? The two of you are kind of the main ones in that.

Kris: So far it's just us writing the lyrics. The others, I don't know if they even have the desire to do that kind of thing. But they are very, very good musicians, the others. Let's say that our other guitarist, Jan, if I'm somewhere in between a musician and a lyricists, Jan is… Much more of a musician than me, I would say. Martin and Jure, the drummer and the bassist, are also musicians in that full sense. The two of us are somewhere in between.

Bojan: Right. Lost in Translation.

But together, the sum is greater than its individual members. Which is great. You, as a band, if we go back in history a little bit, you came into existence with… You've had a bit of a turbulent history. Is that a good thing?

Bojan: Kind of.

Kris: We were putting ourselves together a little bit.

You've been building the band for a while? Well, turbulent… there weren't any arguments, were there?

Bojan: The bass player and I were in… We made the first band back in 2012. And then Matic, the drummer, joined us and he was with us until last year. And then I went to a gig at Prulček bar in the evening, where Jan and Kris were in the band, and I wished I could have guitarists like that in the band. And I called Martin. Martin already knew Kris, because Kris went to the same school as him.

Bojan: And then we sort of very quickly got them to join our band. And that's when Joker Out was formed. That was in 2016.

And then you got the name from the internet. I read that somewhere, that you agreed on it very quickly.

Kris: We just wrote all kinds of stuff.

Bojan: It was during the May 1st school break. I remember I was in Banja Luka. Nobody except Kris knew Jan at all when we started the band, so the band was basically just a Messenger chat on Facebook.

You were virtually-

Bojan: Then we were getting to know each other in there, and we were writing down what name we wanted to have, and something like 1,000 options came up. And then there was something about Joker, and then Kris said Out. I don't know why 'Joker Out'. So, yeah.

Was that a little bit alcohol-induced?

Bojan: No, we were 17!

Oh, yeah, 17, you weren't allowed yet. Of course.

Bojan: But we don't drink now either (laughs).

So the name itself as such, Joker Out, doesn't have any deeper meaning?

Bojan: No, it simply sounds good.

Kris: For a while in the beginning we were still fooling ourselves, so to speak, wanting to find some meaning retroactively. Like, I don't know, you pull a card out from somewhere, nonsense like that. But now we're just like 'well it just sound good, it doesn't have to mean anything.' Because even when you look at what 'Big Foot Mama' means? Nothing, and in fact if you heard it out of context you'd think it was the most stupid name in the world, but because they've given context to the name with their music, it sounds good to you, and you just don't ask what it is at all.

Bojan: I was reassured when I heard that Alex Turner, the lead singer of Arctic Monkeys, finds the name Arctic Monkeys terrible, while we all love it.

Kris: I mean, I had a lot of people saying, 'Joker Out, wow, that's a sick name'. But I didn't think it was either.

Well, because some people are always explaining the history of their name… If it has some prior context, right?

Kris: I mean, it can have…

Well, after all, it's just a story, the one that's the context.

Bojan&Kris: Exactly. Yes."

Shagadelic rock n roll- Before I read what that 'shagadelic' was supposed to mean- I knew it from Austin Powers. But I kind of interpreted it as 'getting layed' rock 'n' roll, right?

Kris: Getting laid…

Bojan: Getting laid rock 'n' roll.

But it has a slightly different connotation, doesn't it…?

Kris: I think- You actually got it right!

Bojan: That, the getting laid part, is just one part of it all. But yeah, we're, we're big Austin Powers fans, and we felt that his mojo was the coolest thing in the world, and that, if for no other reason, at least we wanted to feel like we had that mojo. And then, in 2017, when we won Špil Liga*, we jokingly said that we were 'shagadelic rock'n'roll'.

*A student band competition organized by Kino Šiška.

Kris: We said this back then?

Bojan: Yeah yeah, in the first interviews that we had we said 'Yeah, shagadelic rock 'n' roll'. And then it really caught on, so that's great.

Kris: We didn't really think it would catch on at all.

Okay, but now it exists- Maybe it'll become a new genre of music! Kris: I don't know.

In the history of rock and roll - shagadelic rock and roll.

Kris: Yeah, that would be cool.

Bojan: And that it's only us.

Wikipedia, and it's just Joker Out.

Kris. Yeah we'll see if in 10, 15 years time when somebody's like 'Yeah, we're also shagadelic rock and roll' That would be sick.

What would be the characteristics of shagadelic rock'n'roll then?

Kris: I don't even know if it's that much in the music… It's in the music, it's a certain energy that I wouldn't be able to describe with words right now, but also with everything that comes with it. I think, for example, clothing is a big part of what you would call 'shagadelic rock'n'roll', the energy on stage would be a big part of shagadelic rock'n'roll for me.

Bojan: It seems to me that a very big part of this shagadelic rock'n'roll is being unbothered. They kind of throw this criticism our way constantly, that 'this isn't rock, this isn't I don't know what' so really, if somebody's watching this and they think that, we really don't care. Like, we don't give a flying f*ck. So, that's one part of shagadelic rock 'n' roll, that we just do what we like, if it's rock 'n' roll it is, if it's pop it's pop, if it's disco it's disco. That's what shagadelic is.

I wrote that down somewhere. 'Shagadelic' actually exists, it's in the English language dictionary, in Webster's.

Kris: Really?

There's 'shagadelic', which means…

Bojan: (in English) 'A member of the band Joker Out'.

Not exactly. It means 'sexy, especially in a psychedelic or retro way'.

Bojan: Okay. I mean, that's the retro part that he said, these clothes and so on. We rock that style, so yes.

So. We're almost out of time, so Kris and Bojan thank you so much for being guests on the podcast. See you at the concert sometime?

Bojan: See you whenever you want at the concerts.

Okay, the next one is now operation Križanke*?

*The Križanke Outdoor Theatre is a theatre in Ljubljana, mostly used for summer festivals. Joker Out held a concert there on 9th of September 2022, where they introduced songs from their second album, Demoni.

Bojan: Oh no, the next one is already in-

Kris: In Brežice.

Bojan: This Saturday in Brežice.

This Saturday, that is-

Bojan&Kris: But it's already sold out.

Is it already sold out? So we missed that one then. But we still have a chance in Križanke.

Bojan: Right. 9th of September (2022). I think you now have a few more days or so to get your tickets. So yeah, see you, have a good one, have a good time. What else?

Kris: Thanks for the invitation.

Bojan: Yes. Thank you for the invitation.

And the album will be good, won't it?

Bojan: Oh, no, the album will be extraordinary.

Excellent. Thank you very much.

Kris: Thank you.

- - - - -

Translation by @kurooscoffee , proof read by TWT @klámstrákur and TWT @janpetehoe

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #kris guštin #kris gustin #bojan cvjetićanin #Youtube

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jennycalendar · 1 year ago

Text

upside-down-y

“What do I do?” said Willow. She sounded so little in that moment. Suddenly, Jenny wasn’t imagining that woman in a clean-cut black suit and heels, but the little girl in striped sweaters and white tights. “If there’s no—word—for it? I like being a lesbian, or I thought I did, but I can’t call myself that if I like Oz. And I think I do.” “You don’t need a word for it,” said Jenny simply. “I need a word for it,” said Willow, a stress on the pronoun. “Maybe people in general don’t, but I do.” “Maybe there isn’t one.” “I need—” Willow’s breath hiccupped. “I need the words, a-and the rules. To make sure I don’t—” Abruptly, Jenny knew who Willow needed to be talking to.

decided that, in lieu of tonight's blogging, now might be a nice time to post a tumblr-only exclusive that i've not yet figured out how to work into the canon of what you make! i would like to write a larger fic about willow's adventures at some point, & also figure out when this development will happen within the timeline, and once i do, i think i'll understand better how to work this thing in. (but it is definitely what happens.)

this requires no knowledge of my sprawling fic 'verse except for: it's an everybody lives/nobody dies au, jenny and giles are together with their eight-year-old son, this is a few years post-series.

read for -- giles and willow having frank and very loving discussions about sexuality, jenny calling willow "baby" because she's now a mom who does that kinda thing, briefest sleepiest calendiles child cameo!!!

~~~~~

Willow called at some godawful hour, late enough for it to be edging towards early-morning and for Jenny to be too tired to check the time. She happened to have been pulling an accidental all-nighter that had spun out from a few lines of code that just would not cooperate, so she managed to catch the phone before the second ring, hoping that it hadn’t woken up anyone upstairs. The shrill tone felt impossibly loud to her tired ears. “’lo?” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

Anxiously, Willow said, “Jenny!” and then didn’t say anything else, her breathing nervous and rapid on the other end of the line.

“Willow.” Jenny was too sleepy to think. “You. Need something?”

“I don’t know! I just! Something happened and I can’t tell Buffy about it, and I can’t tell my mom, because she’ll think—well—she keeps saying she approves of the political implications of my lesbianism, so I feel like this is going to go over like a lead balloon, but I don’t know—I mean, I don’t think I’m straight again! It hasn’t—”

Jenny felt very much like this was a conversation that required her to be more awake than she was. Shuffling over to the kitchen table, she took a long sip of coffee. “The political implications?” she repeated skeptically.

“It’s just—we—” Willow took a wobbly breath in, then, in an exhaled confession: “I kissed Oz!”

For one bizarre, sleep-deprived moment, Jenny was convinced that she’d somehow been thrown back in time to 1997. “Oz?” she repeated. “Like, Oz, Oz?”

“Like Oz Oz!” Willow confirmed tearfully.

“Like your high school boyfriend Oz?”

“He was in Istanbul for some—thing—I don’t remember—and I wish I could say that we got drunk or high or something, but I was really only a little buzzed, and he was completely sober, and we were talking about everything we’ve been up to—he was the road manager for this really cool Eastern European band, and, and he’s been doing some networking with other werewolves, and oh, that’s part of why we met! We were talking about all of the complexities of connecting werewolves to resources that will help, and the stigma, and he’s really—well—he never really did much in high school, which I used to have such a complex about because I felt like he could do more than he was doing, but I guess I’ve changed because I just felt, I was so happy to see him doing things that mattered to him! And then that they also have a positive impact! And he’s still got that, that smile where when he looks at you, you sorta feel like you’re the only girl in the entire world! He still looks at me like I’m just the same, and I thought at first, you know, maybe that was why I felt all fuzzy and warm around him, because I’m a horrible person who gets off on validation, but then I started looking at him too and seeing that boy and—and—remembering—”

Jenny had absolutely no idea why any of this was a problem, but her ability to assertively interrupt the Willow-babble was significantly impaired when she was inches away from nodding off in between sentences. “Isn’t that good?” she tried, but Willow had not at all stopped talking.

“—and then we kissed and we actually did a little more than kissed, like, there was some over-the-clothes action and some grinding, except then when we stopped all of that, he walked me to my hotel! Like a gentleman! And he kissed me on the cheek and said he was really happy to share this moment with me, and who even does that??? What do I do now???? What if I’ve just—but I loved Tara so much! I still love Tara! I mean, I have NC-17 dreams about Tara, those wouldn’t happen if I’m straight! And I haven’t been with a guy since Oz, and I haven’t wanted to be with a guy since Oz, but now I want to—to call up Oz and be with him! Which, hello, so clingy, it was just one really nice month and then a whole bunch of kissing—”

“—wait, you’ve been spending a month with Oz in Istanbul and it’s only now become romantic?”

“WE WERE AT A CONFERENCE,” said Willow, as though this explained anything at all.

Jenny sat down at the kitchen table. “Willow—” God, she wanted to be asleep. “People can be bisexual,” she managed.

“But I’m not!”

“So you’re not into men?”

“But I am!”

She was going about this all wrong. “Baby. Are you into men or are you into Oz?”

A long silence. Then, timidly, “There’s not a difference, though, is there? You can’t be a real lesbian if—”

“Please God don’t turn into one of those witches,” said Jenny, who did not have the energy to be tactful. “Willow, there’s no way to be a real lesbian. There’s no manual. We define ourselves with the words that feel best for us, that’s what the queer community is about. What’s the word that feels best for you, right now?”

Another long silence. “I don’t know if the word is lesbian,” said Willow uncomfortably. “I don’t—I didn’t—really—question it? When it happened. It was Tara, first, and then Kennedy, and then a whole bunch of other girls, y’know, on account of the traveling, and then nobody at all for a little while, so I just—I wanted to kiss girls and I stopped looking at guys, and the only guy I ever noticed before Oz was Xander, and Xander, I didn’t know he was everything. They don’t tell you in high school what to do with someone who’s everything, they just say you should marry him if he’s a guy, but I don’t—I’ve never really wanted to marry Xander. We’re not like that. So I figured, Oz, he was just a fluke! Especially because of how everything with Tara happened, and I never thought any guy was pretty like I think girls are pretty, but—I don’t know. Oz is different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Jenny leaned back against the wall, listening.

“I don’t know if the word is lesbian,” Willow repeated. “But—it doesn’t feel right to say that the word is bisexual, either. I’ve dated more girls than guys, now. I’ve built my life around imagining a girl there.”

“But Oz is different,” Jenny prompted.She was met with a tiny sigh in response. “Is that bad?”

“You don’t need a word for it,” said Jenny simply.

“I need a word for it,” said Willow, a stress on the pronoun. “Maybe people in general don’t, but I do.”

“Maybe there isn’t one.”

“I need—” Willow’s breath hiccupped. “I need the words, a-and the rules. To make sure I don’t—”

Abruptly, Jenny knew who Willow needed to be talking to. “Baby, can you just stay on the line?” she asked gently. “Just for a second, I gotta—” and she set down the phone, stepping quietly out of the kitchen and into the unlit hallway, halfway up the stairs to the little landing between the first and second floor, where the bedroom door was still ajar.

Her baby was asleep in the middle of the bed, curled against Rupert like a little puppy; his dozing father’s arm was round his shoulders. Jenny leaned over the bed, carefully untangling a drowsy Art from Rupert. Art, always cuddly in slumber, whined; she ran her fingers through his hair, and he settled. “Rupert,” she murmured, shaking her guy awake. “Rupert.”

“Mmh?” Rupert stirred.

“Rupert, it’s Willow.”

Rupert’s eyes flew open. She saw the panic and gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze, pressing her forehead briefly to his. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. She’s okay. Nothing bad. She just needs to talk to you.”

~~~~~

Willow waited on the line, listening to the crackly static, trying not to breathe too loudly for fear it would tumble into crying before Jenny came back. She heard rustling on the other end and held her breath, waiting, until Giles, his voice all rough and sleepy like it got during those old early morning research sessions, said, “Hello, Willow.”

“Giles,” Willow all but sobbed, feeling a rush of relief. “Did—did Jenny—tell you?”

“Some of it,” said Giles. “Just the loose pencil sketch, really. But I’d like to hear it from you.”

Maybe the Oz stuff wasn’t really why Willow had called Giles. “How do you know when to stop playing by the roles you made up when you were twenty-two and trying not to be the kind of asshole who destroys the universe?” she said, all in one breath. “I, I didn’t decide I was a lesbian because of the magics, but I decided it while I was in the magics, and I wanted to be good at being a lesbian, but now I’m worried that I’m not, if, if I kissed Oz and I liked it. I don’t know what the word is for that.”

“Bisexual?” said Giles.

“That’s what Jenny said but it isn’t that!” said Willow tearfully. “And lesbian doesn’t feel like it’s right either, even though it did for years before this!I don’t know what it is! I like girls and I like Oz, but I don’t like—I don’t want—I don’t think I want, but I don’t know—I wasn’t trying to look, after Tara, because I thought it was simple as—”

“Does there need to be a word for it?”

“That’s what Jenny said!”

A soft, tender laugh, the likes of which Willow hadn’t heard since she was in high school. She loved that laugh so much. It always meant that Giles knew the answer, and really, the problem wasn’t anything to be that afraid of, and five minutes from now, the world would feel okay again. “Willow,” said Giles. “Nothing in a person’s heart is ever finite. We are always—always—growing and changing past the words we used to describe ourselves five, ten, fifteen years ago.”

“But what if I—” Willow swallowed. “What if I change wrong?”

Giles didn’t answer for a couple of the worst seconds of Willow’s life. Finally, gently, he said, “Then you right yourself, if you can. Lean on others, if you can’t. We’re all muddling through. There’s no certainty that I can give you, as much as I wish that I could, but I can—” Now it was his turn to pause. A heavy one. “I can tell you that I love you,” he said, finally.

She had never heard him say that to her before. Not that directly, anyway. “I love you too, Giles,” Willow whispered. The whole thing felt faintly unreal: that she could say those words, and not snatch them back. Not watch his face contort uncomfortably as he tried to wriggle out of genuine emotional expression. “I just don’t wanna do what I did to everyone. And I don’t—if I was wrong, if I’m not—”

“I don’t think that you were wrong,” Giles countered. “You used the words that made sense to you at the time. Those words might not make sense with who you are now. Who you’re growing into. This is good, Willow. You questioning this is good, and healthy. I think…you need to become comfortable with the notion of not having that neat answer, or that label, if the notion of a label has become…restrictive.”

“I don’t want to not be a lesbian,” said Willow unsteadily. “It made everything make sense, when I found out about that word—”

“Does it help you now?”

Willow exhaled. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know. I don’t want to not kiss Oz. It feels like I got turned all upside-down-y again.”

Giles was quiet again. Then he said, “When I was in my twenties, my group, it was all men, save one. Diedre. It hadn’t been intended, her being a part of the group. We’d all wanted a place to…to be ourselves, free of societal expectations.”

Willow’s heart flipped over. This was not something Giles had ever talked about. She’d known, of course—pieced it together through Ethan, and what she’d learned, later, about the kind of magic Giles got up to, but to hear it from him was completely different. She wanted to say something, affirm that she was there on the other end of the line, but she was halfway afraid that he would change his mind if he remembered that she was listening. She held her breath.

“I…didn’t mind the notion of including women within our group, even then.” Giles laughed softly. “It wasn’t something I talked about with the rest, but I wasn’t—I’ve never really—it’s always been about the person, for me, you see. Ethan and the rest, though, they…it wasn’t usual for them to, ah, prefer the company of a woman. They abhorred the very notion. But that was simply how special Diedre was. To, to all of us.”

Something tight and knotted in Willow’s chest was beginning to loosen. She sat down on the hotel bed, curling her fingers around the phone, listening like her life depended on it.

“You, you don’t need to have the right words for it, Willow,” said Giles gently. “Lord knows we didn’t know any of them. And I’d never—endorse—the other sort of things I got up to back then, but I, I think I’ve spent a lot of time refusing to engage with the parts of my life that have been…joyful. All because I was ashamed of the person that I was then.”

Willow wasn’t ashamed of high school Willow, exactly. It was just that sometimes it was hard to reconcile Willow-then with Willow-now, and that wasn’t even getting into the Willow-in-between. “So, for them, it was…guys plus the one exception,” she said uncertainly.

“Do you need to know what it was?” Giles’s tone was mildly pointed. Instructive.

“If I don’t—”

“What if you don’t?”

“I mean, that’s why I’ve been traveling,” said Willow, halfway timid. “To learn stuff.”

“And what have you learned?”

Willow closed her eyes, half-afraid of the answer. Oz had smiled at her in the light of the full moon, unencumbered, gentle. He’d listened to stories about Tara and Kennedy and everyone with thoughtful patience. He hadn’t made a single move. The kissing had happened by accident, and because she’d initiated it, and the nice thing about Oz was that he didn’t question that. He didn’t have a whole bunch of things to say about whoa, hold on, didn’t you go gay and change your mind about me? He just smiled at her, like he saw her, saw right down into her bones, and like what he saw was good.

And she’d missed him so much. The pinwheeling way he talked about things had baffled her when she was in high school, but now, after years of traveling, it was nice to be with someone who had just as many strange questions and quiet observations as she’d been collecting herself. She liked hearing him tell his stories. She liked him. She liked the person he’d become, and the person that she was with him. The people that they could maybe be together.

“I think I’ve learned that I wanna kiss Oz again,” she said, barely a whisper.

She could hear the smile in Giles’s voice. “That’s lovely, Willow,” he said. “I’m very happy for the both of you.”

~~~~~

Giles went back to bed. Jenny and Art had taken up just about all of it, making it nigh impossible for him to lie down comfortably. An attempt to nudge Art a bit further towards the middle was met by an unhappy, half-awake whine that positively tore at his heart, so he resigned himself to sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the bed for three minutes before Jenny, half awake, said, “Honey. Are you being stupid again?” and pulled Art against her like a teddy bear, clearing space for him in the middle.

“Don’t solve all of my problems for me,” said Giles, lying down and reaching to squeeze her shoulder. Their arms encircled Art, who turned his head towards his mother, soft dark curls against her sweater.

#fic #never mind the years of wasted time #giles and willow #jenny and willow #AND:#willoz #BUT only in the background!!!!#this is a fic that truly belongs on ao3. but i have to work some stuff out first

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