#ra was hot if i remember correctly

[nyxypoo]

need him.

[artxyra]

(Recyclable) You're My Brother, Mr. Wayne

Marinette remembers the day when her parents told her she was adopted. She was only twelve. It was that day when she learned that her birth name was actually Marin Etta Wayne, the lost (or unknown, in some cases) daughter of Martha and Thomas Wayne. They told her once she becomes of age, they’ll allow her to decide whether or not to pursue learning her heritage. Marinette thought about it but decided against it a year later when she became Paris’s own superhero, Ladybug.

As much as she wishes that Master Fu had chosen adults to become the heroes rather than children, she had to admit it did have its ups. Looking back at it now at twenty-six, she couldn’t find it in her to regret becoming the Guardian and the leader of the Order of the Miraculous. How could she when it brought her to her must prize gift, her son.

The eight-year-old has been in Marinette’s care since he was four. She had found him during a one-on-one meeting with the League of Assassin. Marinette had been appalled by the sight of a woman yelling at her son about not being able to carry a weapon correctly and then proceed to punish the boy. Pulling rank over the league and the woman (apparently Ra’s al Ghul daughter), Marinette gain a son that day. She learned that is name was Damian and from Talia told her, he was Batman’s son. Marinette didn’t bother to find out whether or not Damian’s conception was through the usual means of love, but what she does know was that Damian needed a loving mother figure before anything else.

“Mommy, you need to get up.” Marinette curls into the pale pink blankets that lays on top of her queen size bed. She could hear the ruffling of the sheets as Damian tries to wake her. Struggling to hold in a giggle was the hardest thing for her to do. “Mom, I don’t need to call Vic or Luka, now do I?” Upon hearing the two names of her favorite people, Marinette groans and uncovers her face to see the forest green eyes of her son.

“No, petit oiseau, I’m up.” Marinette pulls her son into her arms. “There is no need to bother Vic or Luka. They’re very busy people.” She adds before blowing raspberries into the small boy’s cheek. Damian squirms, trying to break free. He had spent the morning getting his hair ready for school and here his mother is messing it up. At least she didn’t ruffle it.

“Actually, Vic is in the living room right now on his laptop. Not that would have mattered. He made you a cup of coffee too.” Damian tells her the moment he is out of her reach. Marinette stares at the boy amused yet betrayed. She then slowly gets out of the bed. It was still early in the morning and she was not needed in the office until later that afternoon—not that Mr. Wayne would have noticed anyway.

“Vic,” Marinette gasps seeing her boyfriend of four years sitting down at the kitchen table with his face glued to the laptop’s screen. It wasn’t a normal sight, but she did have her rules when it comes to work related stuff. “How long?”

“About an hour, gotten a lead for a case that I’m working on and…” Marinette cuts him off by kissing his cheek.

“Shh. You talk too much. Dami told me you made coffee?” Vic points to the cup sitting on the counter before returning to his work on the laptop. Marinette rolls her eyes and goes to grab the cup. She takes a sip and moans as the hot liquid touches her tongue. It was made just right.

“So, is this JL work or regular work?” She then asks taking the seat across from her. Despite the two being workaholics, they manage to work this out with the help of their musician that is currently on tour once more.

“Regular work, if it was JL stuff, I would have stayed on the Watchtower. I know how much you hate it when I bring anything related to JL when Damian is around.” Vic says finally closing the laptop and facing Marinette.

“Good, you know how he is especially since we’re closer to Batman now than ever. I caught trying to sneak out a few times.” Marinette then takes another sip of her coffee and sighs. She hates feeling hopeless. The boy has a fasciation with Batman and she’s pretty sure it has something to do with Talia’s teachings. “Did you also make breakfast?”

Marinette was no shock to her Vic’s awkward chuckling at that question. He wouldn’t dare do near the stove especially when he’s in the zone. Marinette sighs and gets up; she looks over to the clock on the stove and realize she still got time. Damian didn’t have school for at least an hour, and she can drop him off on her way to work.

“How does a veggie breakfast sandwich sound?” Marinette asks knowing that her voice would be heard by Damian, who would no doubt come in and give his answer.

“Sound good,” Vic states, “Damian also agrees.” He turns to the archway where he could see the eight-year-old running down the stairs and stops short. Damian tip toes away. He knows that his mother hates it when he runs down the stairs. The floor being wooden and wearing socks don’t go together and the number of incidents that happen in this house is a lot.

Marinette doesn’t turn, instead she pulls out the ingredients from the fridge and starts making breakfast. It was moments like this that makes Marinette happy for the little family she made since moving out of Paris.

The moment Marinette entered her office, the first thing she wanted was some coffee. Mr. Wayne would be arriving in just under an hour for a department meeting, that she has to make sure everyone is ready for. Despite being the Director of the Martha Wayne Foundation, Marinette somehow finds herself being the keeper of all departments.

Its amazing to how quickly she rose to becoming the director of the Martha Wayne Foundation especially since that was no where near the area she was originally working in. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was meant to be, to be working under her birth mother’s name. Mr. Wayne made quick to giving her control of over the Foundation, which didn’t give her enough time to reject.

[childofturks]

Hello, ça va?

J'ai pas envie de le faire en anglais, j'ai un peu la flemme xD mais si tu veux y répondre en anglais, français ou même grec (bon, c'est chaud là), vas y, ça ne me dérange pas (c'est sûrement même mieux d'y répondre en anglais pour les autres fans de ce perso)

Donc petite demande de Reeve x fem!reader.

Reader a voler Cait Sith (n°7) à Reeve et s'est enfui avec.

Reader travaillait autrefois pour Reeve et prenait quelques cours d'ingénierie avec lui, trouvant l'endroit où il cachait ses créations, comme les nombreux Cait Sith.

Faisant partie d'Avalanche, elle a voler la technologie du chat robot pour pouvoir la reproduire mais s'est finalement rendue compte que le temps passer avec Reeve, en espionne à la Shinra, avait eu raison d'elle. Elle est amoureuse.

Elle recontacte Reeve grâce à Cait Sith et s'excuse, lui avouant ses sentiments.

Voilà voilà 😁

Merci !

Requested : A Fem!Reader x Reeve Tuesti Themes : Adventure/Romance/Oneshot Pairing : Female Reader x Reeve Tuesti (FFVII) ------ "It's been weeks... weeks ! and still, it's like we're still at the same point. Ugh.. " you said to yourself while looking at nothing but your wall of your apartment you got thanks to Avalanche since you worked for them after your discreet treason you've done against Shin-Ra by a being a spy in disguise. You actually lead a small team of Avalanche's unite since you proved yourself trustworthy to their eyes. After sighing and complaining in your corner, you decide to train yourself a little bit before doing a mission on the following day. After the mission, as you come back to your own apartment, you decide to take a moment for yourself. In a hot bath. You could tell your job as spy was hard and dangerous but somehow, it's been a few days already you felt something heavy in your heart. You didn't know yet, but when relaxed in your bath, you start remembering of back in the days when you were a false employee for Shin-Ra's Urban Development, you smile at the thought of being taught some new skills thanks to one director : Reeve Tuesti. Finding yourself smiling at that thought made you shake your own head, like it was a silly idea to smile by thinking about a man that you betrayed a few weeks after you completed your task at Shin-Ra. Even thought, just this small souvenir of that moment, made your heart skipped a beat, and you sigh, disgusted at first for being so stupid to have smiled for such things. After your bath, still in your daydreams, you stare at this animatronic you stole on your last day as false employee and all was clear. You started to feel some regrets, especially that you deeply knew Reeve Tuesti wasn't a bad person at all and you stole something from him. Days go by, and even if you do your missions for Avalanche correctly as they asked of you, you start to think more and more about Reeve Tuesti. One evening, after a long day at work, you come home, and before you start having dinner, you go to see that animatronic again you put in a small room near your own bedroom and stares at this cat machine. It was all clear now. You have feelings for a man that is out of reach now but your heart beats faster as you just say. "Why..." but you took your evening to remember how could this happen, he's from Shin-Ra and you're devoted to Avalanche. It can't work out. But to you, deep within your heart, a small hope starts to grow. You spend the whole night, sleepless, trying to figure it out how to make this work, how to ease your mind to be honest, but it was as clear as crystal water, you needed to see him one more time. So, you look into your stuffs to find something related to Reeve and after hours and hours of research, as the sun rises, you finally found his phone number back again. It was in the middle of your mess. You find yourself trying to write a proper message to make sure he wouldn't refuse to see you again. "Hello, Mr Tuesti, I don't know if you remember me, I'm (y/n)... I know I have left work without leaving a trace, and I feel guilty about it, really. I'd love to meet you again to explain everything better, not through phone's texts. Please, accept my invite and let's meet on the Loveless Avenue, near the theatre of that avenue, tonight at 8pm. See you later." You close your phone before preparing yourself, with that hope he'd accept to see you there as well. Reeve Tuesti, was still working hard on his projects for the company, and when he received a notification on his phone, he got very surprised it wasn't from the superiors nor anyone from Shin-Ra, but it was from you. He does remembers you as remembers your phone number and after a few seconds of thinking, he reads your message, and of course, he types the answer. "I'll be there." without any negative thoughts but he really hoped to understand things better after this confusing return of events. You dressed like any normal person living in big cities, with simple clothes not to spoil your true identity as

Avalanche's member and you wait peacefully at the Loveless Avenue, and you noticed quickly a luxurious car coming near you, it was him. Reeve Tuesti. Your heart rushed when you see him in front of you. But you kept your calm even if it was slightly difficult for some reasons. Reeve looks at you, without any disrespectful ways, and breaks the silence first. "Good evening, (y/n). You wanted to see me, tell me, what's going on?" As he asked, you answered him gently. "Good evening, sir.. I wanted to see you because... I regret to have abandonned you like a person would abandon its pet. It was bad of me, I recognize it. I... I also, wanted to tell you something that has been on my mind for quite a while now." Reeve simply nodded listening to you and made you a sign for you to get in his car to discuss in private properly. You accepted and got in his car. Once in the car, you finally could ease your beating heart a little, and Reeve looked at you, with still kindness in his eyes. "I am listening." You took a deep breath before telling him what's in your heart and mind. "I think... I think I am in love with you. I don't know why or how it happened but it happened and even if today, I work against Shin-Ra, I want to spare your life, I want to be part of your life more than I wanted to believe I wanted... I know it's not right, you work for Shin-Ra, and I don't and - " Right before you could try to explain further the depths of your sentiments, Reeve puts a finger on your mouth, smiling, almost amused but flattered, for you to stop talking before he has to say something back. Reeve removes his finger from your lips and talks to reassure you a little. "I don't mind you working for Avalanche, 'cause I knew you were part of them. It's actually brave of you to tell me you feel for me and to be honest, I haven't spent a day thinking about you, I was worried for you but thankfully, you're still alive and it's all that matters to me." He didn't want to say more as he approaches his face to yours to kiss your lips with tenderness in his act. You didn't move at first when he kissed you but you returned the same kiss to make sure you weren't dreaming. "I forgive you, (y/n), I know you have one of my animatronic, keep it." --- Requested by my good friend @electric-turks and also dedicated to all Reeve Tuesti's fans out there ! Hope you enjoyed reading this little fanfiction I just wrote.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

On the fifth day of the apocalypse, nothing happened.

Or more accurately, nothing NEW happened. 

Roads were cleared, people were rescued and fed, ushered into bunkers and hospitals by superheroes and aliens and furries. Everyone was largely scared and confused, but grateful.

Skulduggery Pleasant was there at some point! 

And the not-really-teens-anymore Titans, She-Ra, homestuck trolls, anime characters, demons, fairies, and innumerable other beings that crawled from all corners of the multiverse to lend a hand.

It was beautiful.

It was chaos.

Avengers Endgame wishes it was this cool. 

On the sixth day, the black sky cracked like an eggshell, golden light seeping through the gaps like runny yolk.

The sun had returned. 

It shattered the darkness like glass, banishing the dark and hungry things that had flourished in this weeklong night. Sending them scrabbling for their vile dens.

Volunteers and evacuees alike cheered at the bright blue sky, and the cowardly star shone all the more brighter. Even though, deep down it was ashamed of itself for abandoning its post, getting eaten by an angry omnicidal Angel isn't something anybody wants, so running away is perfectly valid in this situation.

Well… not really, but I feel bad for the poor thing. 

For a moment, there was peace and quiet, and Hope as the last of the evacuees were loaded into emergency vehicles and sent rumbling on towards the last bunkers with available space.

Jack stopped his search for the End and raided his cellars, treating all the volunteers to fresh hot stew, buttered bread, and strong coffee or cocoa. His Ma, Harley, lent a hand.

There was brisket, latkes, and sufganiyot, spinach matzo lasagna with white sauce! There was pizza, soda, tofu, burritos, cookie cats, grubloaf, and so many other things that everyone brought from back home. What started out as a thank you lunch, quickly became a victory potluck.

A witch in training sets a massive pot of soup onto the makeshift buffet table and everyone immediately swarms it hungrily, she purrs proudly as her dish is praised. 

A dish of sugar cubes, oatmeal, and apples is brought out for Swift Wind, She-Ra's mighty steed.

Faces are stuffed, stories are swapped, wounds are healed. And not just the physical ones. 

Someone tells a joke so hilariously bad that soymilk comes squirting out of Beastboy's nose.

We could End things here, with everyone happy, healthy and safe, with full stomachs and fuller hearts… but you know we can't, dear readers. As much as I want to, as much as you want me to. 

I can't. 

A Plot Hole opens wide, in the middle of a ruined street with a sound like tearing paper and literary agony. Ink splatters the ground like blood from a fresh wound, and from it crawl Spoilers and Continuity Errors. Seven times seven voices echo from the Hole's drooling depths, shaking loose out of context snippets from the next Narrative over, "You think you've won?" snarls the End of Everything as She slithers out of the ink and emptiness, "You might have gotten all of the humans to safety, might have put my Horsemen out of commission, but I'm. Still. Here."

Green fire curls from her lips and forms a single Word, and then the Narrative starts to shudder and scream. A portal tears itself open above the tables laden with feasting heros and sucks them out of their seats like boba pearls through a straw, many of them scramble to stay put or at least snag the last slice of pizza but they are all forcibly expelled back to their homeworlds without so much as a goodbye. 

Although their exit is rough and abrupt they hopefully land safely, without too many bumps and bruises. They're outside of my grasp now, but I hope I can at least give them that much.

Only Jack is left, the portal snaps shut before he can be pulled through it and gravity quickly sends him plummeting into the feast table with its half full plates and sharp silverware. He stares up at the End, wincing in pain. 

She stares down at him, all seven great green eyes blazing with HATE, "It's time that you and I finish this, don't you think?" She smiles then, lips curling over venomous fangs that would make any snake self conscious. Another fiery Word and the world changes, becoming terrifyingly familiar. 

Oh Jack… I'm so so very sorry...

The world is Ending, and it's all your fault. 

The sky is a green-gold mirror, broken, reflecting everything that ever was and everything that will ever be within shards of Dreams that fall like verdant rain and distort the landscape around you as they crash haphazardly to the ground, like glass meteors, shattering on impact. Glittering splinters of impossibility cut your cheek as they fly by, you can taste the bitterness of your future in the pain. 

Before you stands the End-of-Everything, with a head wreathed in flame, Her serpentine form stretching away into forever. Nothing around Her burns or even smolders, no, it grows. Patches of green swallow impossible structures, strangling their foundations until they lean dangerously, drunkenly across the deserted street you stand on. Plants spring forth from places they were never meant to, devouring everything they touch like a cancer, they tug at your feet as you walk. Moss and vines try to crawl up your legs, only to be torn apart with each solemn step. 

In your hand is a sword. An old and heavy thing, carved from the bones of a beast Higher than you, among the rabbits and snakes and suns carved into the blade is a Word of your own, it means "to assemble a name from scars". The tip drags across the seething wasteland of invasive life and makes it blacken and wither. 

You are tired and alone, but you cannot rest until it is done.

The End-of-Everything hisses as you draw near, and speaks in seven times seven tongues, “Do you know who I am?” She says, Her choir of voices crackle and snap like a forest on fire. 

There is an edge of frustration to Her tone, as if She were just as tired as you. You stare at Her with empty exhausted eyes, She has invaded your dreams and asked you this question more times than you can readily remember, and each time, you have failed to answer correctly. 

Stubbornly, you clutch your blade white-knuckle and it grows lighter in your hand. Just a hair, just a touch, but you can feel the weight leave as the dying embers of your resolve glow just a little brighter. 

“You are the End of Everything,  but I am the End of You.” 

[kdramacrybaby]

The Last Empress (2018)

Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Comedy, Action, Romance, Political, Suspense

Synopsis: This drama is set in an alternative universe where Korea has a constitutional monarchy. Musical actress Oh Sunny, in a series of weird events, ends up marrying the emperor. Life as an empress, however, is not as easy as she had dreamed of, and she now has to learn how to navigate the wicked world that is the royal household. Meanwhile, Na Wang-sik loses his mother in a terrible accident at the hands of a royal, and to get his revenge on the murderer, he infiltrates the palace under a different name. When their stories begin to intertwine, the royal household starts showing its cracks.

Episode info: 52 episodes / Runtime around 30 minutes

Lead cast: Jang Na-ra (Oh Sunny), Choi Jin-hyuk (Na Wang-sik/ Chun Woo-bin), Shin Sung-rok (Emperor Lee Hyuk), Lee Elijah (Min Yoo-ra), Shin Eun-kyung (Empress Dowager Kang).

Link to watch: You can watch on Netflix or Viki

Drama rec masterlist | Drama rant thread (beware of spoilers)

I'll be the first to say that this drama is a whole hot mess, BUT I LOVE IT!

I don’t even know where to begin on this... I think actually, it would be better to have ended the synopsis with “When their stories begin to intertwine, everything goes to hell” because that’s basically what happens.

At first, I wasn’t really sure if I was going to finish the drama, as it has a kind of slow and really confusing beginning - at least I think so. There are a lot of different plots that don’t really seem to have anything to do with each other all happening at the same time. A lot of characters are introduced right off the bat, and as someone who struggles with names and faces, I found it hard to keep up.

But oh boy, once the snowball got rolling, it got rolling fast. The plot is intriguing and very good at constantly keeping you on your toes. A lot happens in every episode, so you better pay attention.

Now for warnings: The drama takes a seriously dark turn and there are some very dark moments in this - I’m pretty sure this includes torture at some point if I remember correctly (after rewatching, I can confidently say that there is straight-up torture in this). There’s blood, murders, a suicide, and very heavy mental problems; so beware if this is not for you.

On the other hand, this show is also quite funny - which, to my surprise, it actually handles quite well. The contrast between light and dark is big, but it somehow still feels natural.

The characters… oh man, the characters. I think Oh Sunny is probably one of my favorite female characters of all time. Seeing her go from this naive girl to a badass bitch was a joy to watch. And even the villains have compelling backstories that either give you sympathy or even more hate. It’s amazing.

I didn’t expect to like this drama as much as I did, but I genuinely love it, and I could definitely see myself rewatching it again sometime in the future. Highly recommended watch if you like a bit of wicked in your dramas.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober Day 19

Grief | Survivors Guilt

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

It's a cold autumn night when Tim enters the manor. There's been an early snowfall this year, one that has Tim shrugging off his winters coat and hanging it up beside the manor's front door along with his gloves. 

He looks around the foyer, thankful to immediately spot Alfred walking towards him from the familiar hallway leading towards the study. However, any kind of good mood Tim was in from being back at the manor for the first time in what was probably close to a month leaves when Alfred gets close enough for him to see the little, worrying details.

He's not wearing a suit or tie. Just dress pants and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There's spots of red on Alfred's sleeves... and a rag is held in his wrinkled hands, stained with blotchy pink spots.

And Tim suddenly remembers why he's here.

"Hi, Alfred," Tim greets as Alfred finally finishes approaching. He looks haggard. Likes he's been up all night. He probably has been. 

"Master Tim," Alfred says, offering a small smile. "I apologise for not greeting you earlier. I trust the travel wasn't unpleasant?"

Tim shakes his head. Roads were scary slippery, but because the snow is still fresh and the time’s approaching dawn, there wasn't much traffic to make Tim's drive from the penthouse towards Bristol too horrible. "It was fine. And you don't need to apologise… I'm sure you've been busy. Where is…?"

Alfred sighs, his hands running through the rag without much purpose. Alfred's shaken. Tim heard it was bad, but he didn't think it was this bad.

"Masters Dick and Bruce are both downstairs with Doctor Thompkins. Master Dick has yet to wake, but considering we've just finished surgery, I don't expect him to be awake in the near future."

"How bad is he?"

Alfred sighs and moves so he drapes the blood stained rag over his wrists. "Major head trauma is the worst of it. Some broken ribs, a snapped wrist, mostly bruises and cuts. Doctor Thompkins is hopeful that he'll make a full recovery in time."

"And… Damian?"

Damian was there right? He was a part of this whole catastrophe? Nightwing and Robin were supposed to be on a team up. With a sinking stomach, Tim realizes Damian must have watched Two-Face repeat his ever so famous beating of Nightwing tonight. 

Tim hopes Harvey Dent and his stupid grudges stay in Arkham for a very long time this time around. If Tim sees him any time soon, Tim's not sure he'll be able to pull his punches as much as he should. 

Alfred's voice pulls Tim out from his thoughts. "Master Damian is… outside. Near the Graveyard. I was just about to check up on him, it's rather cold out..."

"Know what?" Tim says. "I'll get him. You look like you could use a nap."

Alfred's face softens. "If you're sure… then I will begin making some hot chocolate for the two of you to warm up."

"Thanks, Alf," Tim replies, a genuine smile rebelliously appearing on his lips. 

After he shoves himself back in his jacket and gloves, he's sure he’s prepared for how cold it is outside in the October air. 

Immediately, he's pelted by a harsh, gray colored wind speckled with small, glittery flakes of snow. The snow is wet, immediately melting when it touches his coat, and just managing to glaze the grass, but regardless of that it's still cold. 

What's Damian doing at the Graveyard at this time with this weather?

The trek towards the Wayne Graveyard is mostly uneventful besides a few slip ups on the stone path. He almost falls on his ass once, but by the time he sees the gate towards the family graveyard, he's relatively unharmed. 

The moment Tim walks past the gates, his eyes immediately fly towards the back of the plot where a giant angelic statue stands, her face shrouded with a hood and her hands brought up in prayer. 

Jason Todd's grave, Tim feels, has always been a part of Tim's life. Because his life never really began until Robin, didn't it. Which is… depressing to say but he can't really call the years spent practically alone with his emotionally distant parents anything close to a life. Tim decides to head that way. If Damian is sitting at any grave, it's probably near the ones dug recently, and not the old, weathered ones filled with names belonging to Wayne's no one actually really knows about. 

Ya know, no one knows about until they’re revealed to have been a part of some super secret old-timey cult or something.

He's probably at Martha and Thomas's graves, wondering what it would be like to have known them. The most experience he has with grandparents is Ra's Al Ghul, and, well, no one wants that guy as a grandfather. 

However, when Tim finally sees the form of a small teen squatting besides a grave, it's one that's no longer… valid. But one that keeps it's gravestone anyway, the dates scratched off. 

Tim feels something try to crawl into his throat to choke him. 

Of course the grave Damian's visiting is Dick's. 

Tim immediately decides to make his approach more cautious than what he was initially planning. He can't… really think of a time where he's seen Damian sit at this grave, even while they thought Dick was actually dead. Tim was… off with the Teen Titans and if he remembers correctly Damian wasn't even in the country for long after he came back to life. Bruce got amnesia and for quite a long time, it was only Alfred and Bruce in the manor, living in a carefully constructed illusion that Bruce wasn't Batman and had never taken kids into his home. 

Tim wonders when Damian found out Dick "died". How did he react? Did anyone even try to reach out to tell him gently, or did he find out on his own?

"Hey," Tim greets softly, lowering himself down to Damian's level in front of the fake grave. He sits on the balls of his feet and curls his arms over his knees before he turns to really get a good look at Damian. 

The kid huffs in response, just staring ahead of him like the gravestone was the most interesting thing in the entire world. His cheeks and nose are red, a stark contrast to his normally dark complexion. His green eyes shine vividly too beneath his sopping wet black bangs. Tim wonders if he's been crying. However, he doesn't dare ask.

"Alfred's making hot chocolate," Tim continues, really feeling out of his league now. He doesn't know what to do. He's never had to confront a clearly vulnerable Damian before. "I don't think we should keep him waiting."

Damian blinks slowly, his gaze finally leaving the gravestone to flicker towards Tim. 

And if eyes were the windows to the soul, then Damian's eyes have always been barred for as long Tim's known him. Barred and locked and shielded by blackout curtains. Now though? They're a stained glass window, shattered and hanging by twisted metal framework thanks to a rock that has been thrown through. 

Tim can't recall ever seeing Damian like this before. It makes him ponder what really happened tonight. If Dick's injuries were simply because of an unfortunate Two-Face run in. Bruce called Tim over to help go over evidence, but now Tim gets the feeling the real reason he's been requested is because Damian's hurting in his own way too, and Bruce doesn't know how to deal with it. 

Not that Tim knows how to deal with it either. The only person that really knows Damian inside and out is the very person who's just finished fighting for his life thanks to a brutal beat down via a psychopath armed with a wooden baseball bat. Again.

"Timothy…" Damian finally speaks, and Tim suddenly feels a chill enter his bones that's not from the wind. "What is Robin's purpose?"

Tim swallows, forcing surprise to stay off his face. Where has this come from? 

"What do you mean?" Tim asks slowly. 

"Tt." Damian turns back towards the gravestone, his usual sound of annoyance sounding half-hearted and incredibly tired. "Just answer."

And it must show how wrong this all feels because Tim doesn't even get the urge to roll his eyes at the demand. He lets out a breath that turns into a visible vapor the moment it leaves his mouth. 

"I guess… it's different for everyone. There's no… job requirement when it comes to Robin. What it means can change on who wears the suit. As long as you wear the colors and fight alongside Batman, then you're Robin."

Damian frowns. "I was told Robin is supposed to be Batman's partner. Robin is supposed to watch Batman's back and protect him."

"Who told you that?" Tim asks before he could stop himself. Damian gives him an unimpressed look. "Oh. Lots of people, huh? Um… I guess protecting Batman is a big part of Robin. I know… that's the reason I became Robin. To save Bruce from his own darkness."

"Then… I am truly an awful Robin."

The words are so shocking that it takes Tim a second to realize a single drop of clear liquid that wasn't snow has dropped down Damian's cheek. 

"Richard died while I was gone," Damian continues, water in his voice. "Even if his death was really a ploy to go undercover… he still got captured and tortured. I wasn't… there to protect him. And now, all I could do was stand uselessly while Dent…"

Damian brings a hand to his cheek to wipe the next tear that tries to fall. The sleeve of his jacket folds up around his wrists to reveal rope burns that definitely look like they sting.

Tim thinks he has a clearer picture now. Damian was definitely there, tied down and held back as Two-Face beat Nightwing to a bloody pulp. 

Tim is so caught up trying to imagine what Damian is feeling, that he almost misses what's said next. 

"If Robin is supposed to protect Batman, then… then it should have been me."

"No," Tim turns so he's facing Damian more head on. More tears drip down his cheeks and Damian looks done with trying to wipe them away. He's looking at the gravestone like he's the one who put it there. That the only reason it's there in the first place is because he wasn't there to stop it. "No, you're not allowed to say that. I take it back, Robin isn't meant to protect Batman-"

"You just said-"

"I was wrong, okay?" 

Damian opens his mouth, then closes it. 

Tim has to take a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. "Look… Damian… you're a kid. It's never a kids job to protect the guardian. It's their job to protect you."

"That's the issue, Timothy, he was protecting me." Damian wipes his eyes furiously, his cheeks growing redder but not because of the cold. "Two-Face wanted me, but Richard tricked Two-Face into letting him take my place. Richard died because of me, and stayed away because of me, and now he's- he's hurt because of me-"

"Stop it," Tim snaps. He can feel his heart beating so quickly. His stomach feels like it's in knots. Damian snaps his jaw shut with a tiny, barely choked off whimper that almost has Tim wanting to stand up, go to Gotham, and show Two-Face what a baseball bat looks like from the other end of the beating. "Just… stop. It's… none of this is your fault. And if Dick heard you saying things like this… that it should be you… he'd tell you the same stuff. 

"You didn't do anything wrong Damian. Sometimes… Batman gets hurt. But you can't hold yourself responsible for that. Sometimes Dick gets hurt to protect you… us, and we can't blame ourselves for that. Dick did what he thought was right, and it's our job now to make sure he gets better. Okay?"

Damian's silent. Sniffs. From the cold or from tears, Tim doesn't ask. 

He wakes in the chilling silence of the Wayne Graveyard until Damian finally jerks his head in a tiny, ridged nod. "I… understand."

"Good." Tim then rises to his feet and grabs Damian's bicep, dragging his little brother up with him. Damian stiffens at first, but eventually complies. Soon, Tim has his arm wrapped around Damian's shoulders. Damian sniffs again and wipes his eyes. 

"You said… Alfred was making hot chocolate?" He asks, and Tim smiles. 

"He sure is. You think we can convince him to put in marshmallows this time?" 

Damian puts on a watered-down thoughtful face. Then nods. "I'm sure if we work together, we can also get cookies."

"Sounds like a plan, gremlin."

"Tt."

"Oh, don't give me that look. You like the nickname."

"I do not."

“Yes you do. Look! You're smiling!"

"You're seeing things, Timothy."

[cozywritings]

Stitches: ch1

Summary: Transferring to a new college two years in seemed crazy, but so was being a fashion major that was being double housed in a dorm building with medical majors. Meeting Shawn was a bonus to the arrangement, and everything else that happens, well, that was just fate. 

------

Explaining to people that you were going to college for fashion merchandising was always a fun conversation. You usually got weird stares or the famous question “what can you do with that?” But that’s what you wanted to to. So now here you stood, in front of your dorm hall, your final suitcase in hand as you took it all in, in it’s old beige bricked glory.

For the next two years, this was your home, and as much as you’d miss seeing your family every day, you’ve lived with them for the first 20 years of your life.

When your parents dropped you off, your mom told you “Don’t think I don’t want updates every night during dinner, especially about boys. And classes. But mostly boys.” She’s always been very pushy about you having a boyfriend. Or at least one that treated you correctly.

Since you were a transfer, luckily you didn’t have to live by the usual first year dorm rules. So while you were required to spend at least a semester in a dorm, you could choose a single room., so you were on the housing website at midnight on choosing day. Sure it was more expensive than a double occupany, but your college fund your parents set up paid for your tuition, so you got one of the lucky single rooms. Considering your odd sleeping habits, your need to listen to music while you study, and a few personal reasons,  it was really best for everyone that you had a single room. Plus, now you could binge watch Gossip Girl and Project Runway on repeat without judgement.

What you just learned, however, was that your dorm was one of the few on campus that was housed by two majors. Usually they try to keep students together by major so studying is easier, but yours wasn’t just fashion majors, you were sharing a dorm with med students. Which was an odd combination, but the biology building was on one side of the dorm and the business building was on the other, and fashion majors were required to have a business minor. So it made logical sense in terms of location.

Walking into your new room, you saw all the opportunities for decor. The walls were totally bare, the bed was light enough for you to easily move it around the room, and there was a small package of dorm safe hanging hooks on the desk in the corner, along with a list of things that you were allowed to do and what was restricted.

Dropping your suitcase to the floor, you walked over to the desk and began reading your list to see if you could get a mini fridge.however, a soft knock on your door startled you, and you dropped the paper, letting it flitter down to the carpet.

You opened the door to see a tall brunette holding out a small gift bag and giving you a really nervous smile. “Hi, I’m Emily. I live just down the hall and I, uh, wanted to drop this off.” She looked at you with big eyes as you took the bag from her and smiled. “It’s got um, some popcorn and a bottle of soda in it and a few snacks and stuff. Oh! And a few school supplies.”

She was obviously very nervous, a freshamn. Technically you were too, but you understood being 18 and trying to make friends in college. Even if your first two years where at a comminuty college. She was probably doing this to meet new people and try to find some friends.

“Hi. Thank you so much! This is actually really cute and I love Dr. Pepper, it remonds me of home. It’s really nice to meet you.” The two of you finished your introductions. You learned that she was a first year med student, and that the RA’s were showing a movie being the hall’s big study loft tonight, and that’s why she put the snack bags together.

“So I guess I’ll see you tonight?” She asked, excited to have a new friend.

“Of course! I love Pretty Woman, it’s one of my absolute favorites.” Emily squealed and clapped her hands before walking off the deliver the rest of her treats the other residents. “Oh and Emily, if you ever need anything, I’m always here. Just be sure to knock twice so I know it’s you.” Her smile got even bigger, if that was possible.

“Thank you so much! You’re so sweet. I’ll see you tonight!” After waving goodbye, you closed you door and looked around your empty room again, thanking the gods you had a whole room and bathroom to yourself. You’d never lived alone before, well technically you weren’t alone, but it was close enough.

Wondering out loud to yourself you asked. “What am I going to do in here?” You eventually decided you thought the desk would look better by the window, for a pretty view while studying, and the bed would be best on the opposite wall. Tha t would make it easier to see your tv that you’s put on your dresser. When you were able to find someone to lift that heavy thing onto it, and how you were going to move it all, you had no idea. But for now you could at least plan out where the rest of your things could go, and put up the things you knew wouldn’t be in the way of the rearranging.

Things were going along rather smoothly until you heard a loud thud against the outside of your door. Opening it carefully, a tall guy with glasses tumbled into your room. “Oh fuck! I’m so sorry I stumbled over my own two feet.” He laughed, face a bright pink in embarassment.

“Oh, no, It’s alright, are you okay?” you asked and he stood up and nodded, brushing off his jeans.

“Yeah I’m good, I just have two left feet and the world’s worst balance. I’m Kyle by the way!” He smiled, sticking out a hand. You gave him the same intro you gave to Emily, he was also a fashion merchandising major, the first one you’ve met today. “So if you need any help just come get me. I took most of the intro classes already so I can give you my notes. If you’d like.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “You’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much. Are you going to this movie thing tonight?” You asked, hoping he’d join and Emily wouldn’t be ubset that you brought an extra person.

“Yeah, who would pass up a movie night? Also it’s got pizza and snacks and it’s kinda just a greeting party. Last year’s was really cool.” You talked for a few more minutes before saying goodbye after sharing phone numbers, then you were left to get ready. This thing seemed like it would have a lot more people than you thought, so you decided to take a shower after working on your room.

A few hours later, and your bedroom was now fully put together, kind of. You made sure that your sheets where clean and your bed was freshly made with the brand new white quilt your mom got you. All of your school supplies were put away respectively, and your clothes were all put in the small dresser and closet.

After taking your shower you called your mom. “Hey sweetie. All moved in and comfy?” She asked, excited for you. She was a little bummed that she wasn’t able to stay and help you unpack, but her job was demanding, and you understood. Besides, you had to grow up eventually.

“Yeah. I just took a shower. They’re playing Pretty Woman in the loft tonight so I’m going to go watch it. It’s like I never even left home honestly. That’s probably exactly what I’d be doing tonight anyways.” She laughed, knowing how you watched this movie almost every weekend and it eventually became a family tradition on Friday nights.

“Oh honey I miss you so much already! Your room is all empty and your father is already talking about a men cave.” She groaned, already fearful of the idea.

“You’re not letting him turn my room into a man cave. That’s stupid.”

“Well duh, he’s lucky I let him put his football stuff up in the living room.”

The two of you talked for a good ten minutes before she brought up the topic of boys. “Well honey, just remember. You’re living with soon to be doctors. Imagine scoring a hot doctor. Like a McDreamy of your own!”

Your mom always watched Grey’s Anatomy with you, and you laughed at her comment. “Okay mom, I’ve gotta get ready. This thing starts in an hour and I’ve got to make sure I look worthy of a hot doctor.” Your mom put your dad on the phone to say goodbye before you hung up and turned your music on, tossing your phone onto your bed.

Your mother's words in mind, you decided to redo your makeup for the movie night. Who knows, you really might just meet someone. But you’re doubtful they’d be interested in you.

Looking yourself over in the mirror, your loose and slightly messy curls, the vintage long sleeve from your cousin, and your black jeans looked presentable enough. Slipping on your vans you grabbed your snacks from Emily and your phone and made your way to the loft.

“Hey, you came!” Emily smiled when you walked in, a group of other students sat around her on the fluffy bean bags and waved with her. Kyle was with them as well, so you made your way over to them. Most of them looked like first years, but then again, so did you.

Emily went around introducing everyone “There’s a few more I know are coming. I met them last, they were talking about coming but I just don’t know where they- oh hey!” Her smile bright as her eyes shifted to look at the new arrivals.

When you turned to look for yourself, you were expecting another freshman, maybe another girl like you, who decided to show up in something other than pyjamas.

However, the person in front of you was not definatelynot a freashman, or female. He was tall and handsome. Extremely handsome. Your fingers twitched in the need to touch the curls on his head and his eyes were the most beautiful thing you’d seen.

His jeans were probably as tight as yours, and you wanted to know what was under that beige hoodie more than anything in the world, but you were getting way ahead of yourself. You hadn’t even spoken to him yet.

“Guys, this is Shawn!” Emily announced “Actually, he lives just across the hall from you.” She said, placing a hand on your shoulder. before she bent down and whispered “he’s also a junior, like you. He’s gonna be a doctor.”

Looking back at the gorgeous man before you, you watched as he grabbed a bag of popcorn and plopped down into the beanbag next to you. “Hey, I’m Shawn. We’re neighbors right? Emily was telling me about you.”

You nodded, unable to speak. “Yeah. I live just across the hall apparently.” His eyes were so pretty, and his smile was unlike anything you’d ever seen. I was almost impossible to not smile with him.

“Yeah I saw you moving in earlier. If you need any help rearranging the room just come ask. I usually study in my room anyways so I’m almost always there.” You nodded, making a mental note to ask him to help you move the tv as well

“How did you know I was thinking about rearranging the room?” You questioned, stealing a few pieces popcorn from the bag that he’d tilted towards you as an offering.

He just shrugged, “When I first moved in I wanted to do it too. I thought the desk would look better by the door, that way I could put my bed by the window so I could look out over the courtyard. Plus the sun in my face really wakes me up” he let out a soft chuckle. It was almost like everything about him was enchanting.

Smirking a little you popped the popcorn into your mouth before speaking again. “I’m going to have to take you up on that offer. I was actually going to rearrange today until I realized I needed some help. So I’m assuming you’re in a single room as well?” He nodded, grabbing a slice of pizza and a water bottle.

“Yeah I got lucky since I’m a junior but also real close to graduating next year with my program internship. l want to specialise in Pediatric Surgery.” You looked over at him in shock. There was no way he was already about to graduate, especially in a field like that. This was a man after your heart. “I know I know, I’m young. But in my 11th and 12th year I ended up at a special center for Medical studies so I got started early. I’m hoping to get into a residency soon, and wow I am talking about myself a lot. What about you?”

You smiled, giving him an earful himself of your love for fashion and how you hoped to one day work in New York, LA or even Paris or Milan. What surprised you was how interested he seemed. It was like he actually cared about what you were telling him as opposed to being obligated to listen to you drone on and on about trends and the color patterns for next fall.

“So, I was thinking tomorrow about going around campus and just finding where everything is. Are there any suggestions for the perfect studying spot? Or where to get the best foor or decaf coffee?” He swallowed his mouth full of pizza before answering.

“I’ll one up you. I’ll show them to you myself.” Before you could say anything else, a dorm adviser announced that they were about to start the movie and the lights went out as the opening credits rolled. When you felt a nudge on your shoulder, you looked over to see Shawn offering you a blanket from the backpack he brought with him, noticing your slight shaking due to the temperature of the room. You didn’t even realise how cold you were until you wrapped it around yourself, whispering a small “Thank you.” You finally situated yourself into the fuzzy bean bag, snuggling into the blue fleece.

You took a deep breath to relax and had to stop yourself from humming at the smell of cologne that lingered on the fabric. It had a nice sandalwood scent mixed with a bit of vanilla and you had to keep from audibly moaning at the smell. So instead you focused on the movie, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth. Trying to ignore the literal greek god only 6 inches from you on the grey bean bag was nearly impossible, especially since he kept looking over at you.

It was almost midnight when the movie ended, half of the dorm had fallen asleep on the floor, Emily and a few others in the group included. The rest had left right at the end of the movie to sleep in their own beds. To be honest, you weren’t far behind, but there was no way you were getting up, you were wrapped up in this blanket, Shawn falling asleep on your shoulder. You didn’t have to heart to wake him.

Technically you didn’t have classes for another week, so thankfully someone decided to start another movie. It would’ve been boring to try to fall asleep to the main menu repeating over and over until someone decided to turn it off. You smiled as the beginning music of The Great Gatsby filled the large study room. The DiCaprio version would always be the better. So you settled back into the bean bag chair, wrapping yourself tighter into the blanket, deciding to fight sleep in favor of another one of your favorite movies.

Right when Nick walks into the parlor where Jordan and Daisy are lounging, Shawn rolled over in his sleep. At first it was fine, that is, until he kept rolling and ended up halfway on top of you. His head on your shoulder and his arm draped across you, his leg curled up on top of yours as he got comfortable.

You thought about waking him or moving him off, but he looked too peaceful. Too cute. And his body heat mixed with the blanket was keeping you comfortably warm. So you let him stay there, it wasn’t like he was hurting anything.

Throughout the movie, Shawn would move slightly closer. Obviously it wasn’t on purpose, and at one point, Cheryl, another girl you’d met earlier in the night, woke up and offered to help you get out from under him. She said her girlfriend likes to cuddle so  she got really good at sneaking away since she likes to be at the gym by 5am.

“No thanks, I’m pretty comfortable and I wanna finish this movie. But thank you.” She smiled down at you, bidding you a goodnight.

“You just want to bask in the glory of the hot doctor in training sleeping on you.” She whispered, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at you.

Laughing softly, you looked up at her before shifting your eyes back down to Shawn. “You got me. Now go to sleep. You’ve gotta be up early for the gym tomorrow.”

With a laugh and a wave, she walked off, leaving only you and a few others awake to finish the movie. But that suited you just fine. No one to ask questions because they were lost due to their negligence of reading the book.

As the movie came to an end, so did your energy and willpower to stay awake. Looking down at the boy asleep on you and the room full of college students who would probably hate themselves for falling asleep on the floor, you closed your eyes. Joining the rest of the group in slumber, waiting for the aftermath in the morning.

[cruelfeline]

can I just flop into your inbox and despair for a hot second about how like. bewildered I am over the lore of spop??? I thought about doing this as proper asks but then it got... long.

Sure! Anyone can flop into my inbox c:

idk if it's me and I'm just dumb and not getting it?? I've gotta go back and comb through the show I guess bc the wiki and google and the internet at large are the opposite of helpful.

but no okay the show kept saying that the first ones were basically - etheria's first settlers or whatever the hell right?? something along those lines? am I remembering this correctly? that's why the etherian's CALL them the first ones? (I mean but Prime did too didnt he now that I think about it. I'm not sure why he would though, the context for why the etherian's would use the term and why he'd use the term are different?) ugh whatever, like I said I gotta go back and comb through but I wanna say that the implication was that the first ones were the...First Ones to be on etheria. which is like....??

Mm... it’s a bit unclear, but Mara speaks in a way that highly implies that there are native Etherians already on Etheria when the First Ones arrive. One of them being Razz. 

I doubt that Etherians really know much about their own history; their records seem sporadic to me, so they may or may not know that the First Ones weren’t actually the first sapients on the planet.

And Prime doesn’t really call them the First Ones; he simply acknowledges that that is what Adora and the Etherians call them. I don’t recall him calling them anything specific.

bc then when it comes to the whole, heart of etheria thing, and the runestones, and all of that? and then the princesses? I'm honestly just so confused as to how it all is supposed to fit together. bc then uh where did the five royal families come from to begin with? were the runestones there from the start? were those five families magically connected with those runestones from the start or were they only connected and whatnot after the first ones were all like "hey so uh, if you synch up to this rock you can do cooler magic" but then if etheria was already being ruled by several different courts of elemental royalty or wtf ever, then they couldnt really call themselves the first ones. but Also it's just (and I think you've addressed that the showrunners seem So Much More Interested in telling the catradora gf drama angst saga then fleshing out their world building lmao) it's kinda just like... why do all of these families only have one child? why do each of the princesses of power not have a sibling? like what if - considering mooooost of them seem to be orphans lol - one of them trips down the stairs and smacks their head on the floor and dies?? I guess uhhh, now your kingdom doesn't have a ruler??

So, my understanding of the runestones is that they were devices created by the First Ones in order to enhance and better control the magic of those naturally in tune with certain elemental aspects of the planet. I don’t think this is explicitly stated in canon, but I assume as much by extrapolating from the purpose of She-Ra’s sword. As we learn over the course of the show, the First Ones did not create She-Ra, but they did create the sword. She-Ra is an Etherian entity, some form of planetary guardian or what-have-you, and the First Ones created the runestone sword in order to control that entity and incorporate it into the Heart of Etheria. I would assume that the other runestones serve a similar purpose.

Now, as far as our current Etherians not knowing this: this is a fairly common sci-fi trope. The idea of the original purpose of something (usually some form of advanced tech) being lost as information is lost to the ages is often used to facilitate protagonists not immediately knowing what a thing is for. Like... oh, if you’ve ever read the Dragonriders of Pern series. That’s a good example: Earth colonists land on a planet, find it inhospitable, genetically engineer empathetic dragons to help fight the threat, and... well, people live there for generations, forget their origins, regress technologically, and just assume that there have always been dragons on Pern.

As far as single child Princesses and whatnot: likely a by-product of the show already having a million characters, and siblings not being needed for the plot! I mean, the show already had enough to deal with; no need to add more fluff.

and yeah it's a kids show but it doesnt ;__; none of the any of it makes sense to me.

what is the Heart of Etheria even supposed to Do again??? like we know it's a superweapon that channels magic and like, Mara trapped etheria in despondos 1000 years ago so my soft theory is that the first ones were maybe using it as a last ditch effort against Prime? I mean is the sword just.... gps coordinated to fire at prime regardless of where he is in the universe or whatever?? bc I mean at that point is prime on etheria's doorstep?? I don't! I dont understaaaand.

Well, since it never fires, we cannot know for certain, but Death Star-style planetary destroyer seems logical. 

I do like the headcanon that it was actually a last ditch effort to defeat Prime, especially since we now know that the First Ones fought him and apparently lost!

This is an interesting concept to me because, while their colonization of Etheria is widely regarded as Bad, because colonialism is Bad, the idea that they did it in order to try to save their own lives, and potentially the lives of others in the universe, makes the situation far more morally grey than it might initially appear. Yes, their colonization harmed the Etherians, but might it have been worth it, if they had succeeded and killed Prime a thousand years ago? Would that have prevented the genocides he committed on other worlds? Would sacrificing Etheria have been worth it if, say, a thousand other inhabited planets had been spared as a result? Not a set of questions the show asks, but meaningful ones, in my opinion.

why does Prime want it? like is he not under the impression that messing with it is gonna like... pretty much blow up everything within a big ass huge af radius? he said something or other about purifying the universe and starting over or some nonsense like that but??? like you'd be dead too my guy. you might be egotistical and narcissistic and vain af but I dont think he's that stupid as to think he's somehow immune to giant fricken explosions.

Oh, I think he has some idea of how to survive it. He can body hop. He is, in some sense of the word, eternal because of that. If She-Ra hadn’t stepped in, he likely would have succeeded in continuing his existence. The way he speaks, one may even infer that this sort of thing has happened before.

But, hard to say! Thankfully, we don’t have to find out c:

and I'm just. I just wanna know more about the spop world at large you know?? like. I just want All the world building and backstory and explanations to things. I have so many questions.

anyway sorry for kinda dumping this giant wall of shrieking nonsense in your inbox I'm just like. I dont... I dont get it. I dont get any of it lmao and I wanna get it! like the whole universe of this show could be so cool and so fun and interesting but it's like... some of the pieces dont seem to.. f i t

yeah

Ah, such is the burden of a world that has only enough worldbuilding done to facilitate its story, no more and no less. But! At the same time, this means that we as viewers can infer many things from canon and fill in the blanks with whatever we prefer. Leading to a lovely variety of fandom content to amuse us for some time to come c:

[wizardsmokingweed]

why mlm relationships are never shown in kid’s shows

I wrote this angry and exhausted. good luck.

With the exception of Bow’s dads and Benson and Troy from Kipo, I struggle to name a canon mlm relationship in an animated kid’s show. And yet, there seems to be an endless amount of lesbian relationships- Marceline and Bubblegum, Catra and Adora, Ruby and Sapphire, plus a shit ton more from She-Ra alone. Don’t get me wrong, this is a huge step for queer people everywhere, and I am so grateful to grow up in this generation and witness this acceptance. And although the relationships between Troy and Benton, as well as George and Lance are both very sweet, neither have the growth and emotional connection formed in any other relationship I’ve seen on screen. And don’t get me started on how much Voltron fucked up queer characters. Good lord, talk about burry your gays. 

But back to my point. Why are male relationships so rarely shown on screen, and almost never portrayed in the same light as lesbian or heterosexual couples? As far as I can count, there have been about two mlm kisses on a kid’s show, and I don;t want to count Voltron, because it was shit. So why? 

At first, having a lesbian couple on screen was shocking, and many Karens flipped their shit and rushed their children off to church when they saw Steven Universe episode 49 for the first time in 2015. And over time, it became more and more acceptable, with masterpieces like The Legend Of Korra, She-Ra, The Owl House, and Adventure Time. But it wasn’t until early 2016 that there was a confirmed mlm couple on screen (Deputy Durland and Sheriff Blubbs), and even then, there was no kiss, and they were always side characters with probably no more than an hour of screen time total. 

Oversexualization of lesbians is a huge issue for the wlw community, from inaccurate porn to asking for threesomes on the street (a lot of people, mainly men, are really fucked up). But two women can hold hands in public, and still be considered “just friends,” but the second two men do it, they’ve got assholes screaming about how they’re going to hell. And yet, oversexualization of gay men is also a huge issue, mainly for straight women. I cannot tell you how many straight ladies i know want a Gay Best Friend. They think it’s hot, exciting, sexy, when two men kiss. They think it’s hot to be “sinful.” They pretend to be supportive, but are really just in it for their own fantasy. Most of the mlm novels I’ve ever read are written by straight women. 

Back to my point, again. There’s a stereotype pushed on gay men to be sexy and horny all the time. To be feminine, and basically be throwing themself on every man in sight. It’s so hurtful. People form assumptions about people based on how they act, but if he hadn’t come out, I never would’ve expected Benson to be queer. He was done so well, not oversexualized, not made creepy or stereotypical in any way. Even his romance did so well, which is where things sometimes fall apart in terms of representation. 

People (mainly Karens) think it’s a terrible influence on children to have queer shows, because they don;t want their children to grow up queer at all. Lesbian relationships are more accepted by most people, because women are “supposed to be sensitive” and “it’s ok, it’s just a phase.” But once it’s a queer man, it’s more “ugh, you’re a freak and a sinner!!” because men are supposed to be emotionless machines, right? (WRONG). And once you put oversexualiztation into the mix, gay men are being pulled into a spiral of stereotypes and toxic masculinity. 

And, it’s not just that. We write what we experience. Straight men write straight men (that tend to come across as queer in non-kid shows, like Sherlock or Supernatural). Queer people write queer people, and I cannot think of a single gay man who has written a script for any kid’s animation show. To quote a tumblr post I once saw, “mlm non-canon relationships tend to dominate fandoms because straight men have no fucking clue how to make women correctly.” Not their exact words, just what I remember. If queer women, or just actually accepting women, write queer characters, it’ll be easier to portray them as female, like how it’s easy for me to write trans masc characters. I would have serious trouble writing, say, a 50 year old straight woman, because I can’t project myself onto her in any way. People write what they know, what they understand.  

So. Why? Because if a film studio were to allow a gay man to write a script, there would be a high chance it wouldn;t be aired as a children’s show, as most people consider mlm relationships to be all about sex, and definitely cannot be a cute magical romance, like Ruby and Sapphire. Or, if they were to air a cute gay magical romance, it wouldn’t be written by a gay man. It would be written by some straight women who probably thinks about gay sex more than her own partner. There would be too many stereotypes pushed on the kids, like being feminine, or having a straight girl for a best friend, and make it worse than Voltron. 

I love all the shows with queer characters in it. They make me feel right at home. But I would love more mlm romance, for me to feel that home feeling, and for young gay boys to see themselves represented on screen as a real person, and not an afterthought. 

[daisy--sorbet]

heyyy, hope you’re having a good night!! if you have the energy and feel okay answering, what’s up w taz graduation? i haven’t checked it out yet but i was thinking ab it. just asking bc you’re the first person i saw talk ab the show having serious issues, but also feel free to not answer this!! hope you have a good week!

i took a nice hot bath, had a strawberry kiwi capri-sun, and did a nice face mask and i’m feeling pretty good - so, y’know what anon? let’s talk about it. 

for anyone who likes taz grad who sees this post: it’ll be tagged with “taz grad hate” (although i feel hate is definitely a very strong word - it’s for the simplicity of tagging it) - so please block the tag if you don’t want to see this post (especially because i put a readmore on a post before and it didn’t show up on mobile and instead gave the full post). mobile tumblr has a tag blocking system, so please feel free to use it! i don’t mind haha

anyway, so this is... probably going to be a lost post, and i wanna go ahead and preface it: this absolutely isn’t any hate on the mcelroys themselves. i love the brothers and their dad a lot, and while i doubt any of them would ever see this (or have it sent to them, or shown to them, because im pretty sure they try to distance themselves from this sort of thing), i just want to make it clear that criticizing a product is different than bashing a person. which brings me to the point of if i do end up sounding as if im bashing someone - please call me out on it! it’s not my intention to target anyone.

with that said, let’s talk about this campaign.

so my problems are as thus: the railroading, the shipping (a fandom problem, but it’s present in the podcast), the NPCs, and some misc problems others have addressed better than i have.

which. i know. that’s basically the entire podcast. (i promise i’ll bring up some positive points to balance it all out). keep in mind i’ve only personally listened to... what, six episodes? and it was enough for me to drop it. some people dropped it first ep, some dropped it ep four, and others are still forcing themselves to listen.

the railroading

there was a time i could handle travis and his railroading [making sure the story goes exactly the way he has planned], because it was the very beginning of the podcast and that’s what you can kind of expect from a plot-heavy podcast. hell, i wouldn’t mind it if the interactions and goofs weren’t a huge part of why i listen to TAZ in particular (which, by the way, is why amnesty still stuck out to me - even if there was a direction griffin wanted to push them towards, the interactions between the players (or players and npcs) made up for any railroading). it’s kind of hard to not railroad a little when it’s story-heavy and you’re trying to built up a world that you’ve put a lot of thought into. however, a huge part of d&d is the spontaneity. 

it’s kind of why i think balance was so popular. while there was railroading towards the end, there was the presence of improv that made it all good. most mcelroy content is enjoyed because of the goofs. the magic brian moment is memorable. the jenkin’s fight still stands out because it was funny (albeit a result of some bad rolls). the boys teasing angus sticks out because the four would play well off of each other. even without that - griffin had talked about how he had to roll with things (the fact he had planned for a fight atop the train, but ditched the idea for what his family members came up with instead). even in amnesty, a couple moments that stick out to me still are ned with the jetpack taking out a pizza hut sign, and the scene with the water where jake was trapped inside. they aren’t as fun, but they still stand out as “things i didnt expect to really end the way they did.”

with grad, it’s just. one after another. the thundermen want to subpoena a xorn? cool, let’s run with that until actually the xorn gets fed rocks and goes home and who cares about the subpoena now. fitzroy wants to keep his cloak? lets talk about it for a while and you also get no rolls to even try to keep it. fitzroy goes to meet higglemas in his office? oh, why are you here fitzroy? im going to keep asking you until you answer fitzroy? you arent getting out of this scene until you answer me, fitzroy, so just tell me why you’re here already, alright, fitzroy? 

and even later in a episode i read a transcript of: hey argo, remember how you have this whole secret motivation? fuck you, im gonna talk about it here in your dream and reveal it to listeners and remove any tension you had building up, and you dont get a choice to talk about it because this all-knowing villain knows all about it :)

and even NOW in the latest episode, there’s a comment that “we should cap argo’s skills here” instead of just... making the checks higher. rogues are good at certain things and usually arent the best in battles. better hope argo never makes it to level 11, because who knows how people are gonna handle the fact that he gets a skill that’ll make it so certain skills can’t have a roll below 10 (reliable talent). 

(griffin, thankfully, calls travis out for that, but still - travis, why would you even imply that, considering you should be aware of how rogues work considering magnus multiclassed into rogue and you played one on tiny heist?)

and in the newest episode, their Big Bad chaos (which, god, i personally hate that name) straight-out says “dont do this” to the thundermen. travis tries to say, on twitter, “a character saying “dont do this” is different than me saying it” but i need to point out that it’s one thing if you’ve said “no” in character but worked with the PCs doing otherwise, but the railroading says differently.

the shipping

ill try to make this quick, because it’s nothing to do with the fandom (ship however you want, man) - but i really feel the need to draw attention to this.

fitzroy, as confirmed by griffin in a ttazz episode, is asexual. not aroace, but ace nonetheless. and i find it... troublesome that the idea of rainer and fitzroy having a relationship is still pushed nonetheless, despite the fact that fitzroy (to my knowledge) was never once shown to reciprocate any feelings. not to be that person, but i really hope that grad doesnt have any sort of romantic relationships in it (at least - not between NPCs and PCs unless they’re actually like... warranted?). 

i dont know, man. one of my closest friends is ace, and i know she wants a relationship, but i think it would reassure her a lot to see an ace character who isn’t pushed into one in case she ever changes her mind. someone once mentioned that they hope fi/tz/ra/in doesnt happen because theres relationships that have that “oh, you can just date” and it goes upwards there to “oh, you can have sex just to please them <3″  (which, to be honest, is kind of a gross mindset - if someone isnt interested, they arent interested).

also, uh, the TTAZZ where griffin states this, there’s kind of the mention tht the whole sexuality question was posed in relation to the episode “creative thinking” (the dream one i mentioned earlier) - which. uh. i don’t know if anyone caught this, but... rainer straight-up wrote fitzroy a letter in the dream like “are you going to accept my proposal? a girl doesn’t like to be left waiting” which. leaves me with some gross feelings because uh.

if... if the whole thing about fitzroys sexual orientation was addressed here, then why would you push your ship anyway? feels kinda iffy, man.

to which i want to say: fitzroy can date. he’s allowed to date. griffins allowed to do whatever he wants with his character. but when a lot of the flirting is met with nothing, i’m not gonna see the chemistry there. just because travis ships it doesn’t mean it’s canon.

the npcs

ah yes. lets talk about the npcs.

there’s... a lot. a lot a lot. i think travis trimmed down how many were present in a scene, but uh. there’s still a lot. and... uh... i kinda wish there wasn’t?

look, i know im going back to balance/amnesty, but just. hang in there for a moment. chill with me. vibe. 

balance didnt have too many NPCs present at all times in each mini-arc. gerblins had some big names like barry, klarg, gundren, killian, yeemick, and magic brian. rockport limited had angus, jess, graham the juicy wizard jenkins, and all of the tom bodetts mentioned. 

amnestys first arc had mama, barclay, jake, dani, pigeon, kirby, minerva, and that was about it for like. big names? and not all of them were present in each scene. 

in the first episode of grad alone: gary, hernandez, jimson, rolandus, zana, rhodes, buckminster eden, rainer, leon, tomas, hieronymous, higglemas, stuart, jackle, bartholomeus, mulligan, groundsy, germaine/victoria/rattles (the skeleton crew). and those are the ones i wrote down (minus groundsy, who i just. ignores. idk him).

like holy shit, my english prof got onto me for having too many characters in my first chapter and i didnt even have half the amount listed there! 

it’s just a huge cast. does this take place in a school? yes! theres bound to be a lot of students present - but you don’t have to name every single one of them, at least not in the first episode!

the miscellaneous

i don’t know if travis ever actually addressed it, but wheelchair users have actually like... said that rainer’s introduction bothered them, because she was like “please ask me abt my wheelchair :)” when travis saying she was in an ornate chair would have sufficed. 

uh. the colonization vibes people have discussed within the centaur arc. mentioned here, the replies here, and this post (and its replies) here as well.

the overall lack of d&d when the campaign was kind of advertised as a return to d&d if i remember correctly

also no one seems to be taking literally any criticism at all which like. ignoring the petty shit, sure, but people have stopped donating to taz and their listener-ship must have dropped some during this entire time - you’d think that maybe someone could say “we need to find out why people dont like the thing and fix the thing” consider this is. yknow. their livelihood.

anyway uhhh 

tl;dr: travis railroads way too much (even now), the shipping in-game has become pushy and gross (especially bc its shoving a relationship onto an asexual character), theres too many npcs that dont stand out well enough, and no ones taking any criticism about the major issues with grad. 

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

cut + burn, chapter 1

Pairing: Colossus/reader -  Playlist

Summary: Wade decides that sixteen years of mutual pining is long enough. He's appointed himself your new wingman, and he's the best in town (or so he likes to think). Or, how the compound effort of Wade Wilson and total romantic frustration gave way to getting exactly what you've been waiting for.

Chapter 1: Suzanne

Part 2

Author’s Note: This is part one of a 5-part series. I’d like to tell you that this is something other than the introduction to a ton of smut, but that’s exactly what this is. Chapter title is Suzanne by Leonard Cohen.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection  @emma-frxst  @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu  @chromecutie  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @hazilyimagine  @lenavonschweetz  @nu-tt  @rovvboat  @i-write-fanfic-not-essays

-----   -----   -----

You stepped off of the X-Jet onto the manicured green lawn of the X-Mansion and breathed deeply, struck by sweet relief and a feeling of inner peace that only comes from stretching your legs after being squeezed into a cubicle for eighteen hours. The mansion was just far enough away from the city that the fumes and funk from the crowded streets didn’t quite reach the immaculate stonework. Even better, there was no smoke, no fumes, no filtered air from the X-Jet vents - just clean, cold October air that smelled faintly of cut grass and sunshine. For that, you were exceptionally grateful.

Mostly because you were tired of smelling everyone else’s stank on the cramped X-Jet, but, you know, small favors.

As you stepped off of the ramp and onto the impeccable grass, it finally hit you that today was your Retirement Day, all caps, fanfare trumpeting in the background. Sixteen years of jetting around the globe and cleaning up everyone else's shit had led to this final, glorious day. In your line of work, sixteen years without a full-on mental breakdown was a major win.

As reigning HBIC of Professor Xavier's cleanup crew, you’d seen a lot of messes over the years that would have left anyone feeling hollow inside - kind of like your guts had been scooped out and dumped on the ground. The scenes were always ugly. You were the one running off to go coordinate transports of rogue mutants to holding facilities or clean up the bodies left behind from a particularly ugly villainous rampage. Those were your everyday, small-scale chores. The large-scale mass tragedies were the catalyst that really forced your retirement.

Your duties weren’t limited to your obligations to the X-Men - you cleaned up behind everyone. You’d dealt with the fallout from everything the Avengers had ever touched: you'd disposed of the alien corpses after the battle in New York, scoured Sokovia for salvageable lives, cleaned up after Thanos. You'd cleaned up behind all of Dr. Doom’s rampages and Magneto’s tantrums. Everywhere you'd been sent was overrun by the kind of wreckage that left an everlasting mark on your brain. And these mass impacts had only been occurring more and more often lately.

The aftermath of your Last Hurrah as a trademarked Active Duty Hero was bittersweet. There would be a fun party that night with everyone who wasn’t on some covert mission in attendance. Your team had come home with you, and your friends were waiting. They'd make you a cake and pour you a beer and maybe, just maybe, coerce you out into the city for a night of fun. There would be streamers with “Happy Retirement!” written on them, obviously meant for someone much older than yourself. Everyone would congratulate you for sixteen years of impeccable conduct and efficacy.

And tomorrow you would wave your team off on their next task - a task they would complete without you. You’d already chosen your replacement, a new graduate with the power to microwave the air around whatever she targeted. The girl had only been part of your team for a year, but she had great leadership skills and showed real promise. You had confidence in her for sure, but confidence in her abilities wasn't enough to help you sleep at night.

You'd come to find out that passing the torch was much harder than you’d been led to believe. While you had no reason to be unsure of your choice, you had a major problem with relinquishing control. Seriously, it had taken sixteen years for you to decide that enough was enough and you were tired of cleaning up every nasty scene imaginable. You weren't the kind of person who just let shit go.

Nevertheless, you'd finished your last active mission and made it home safely, no worse for wear and no more traumatized than before you left. You'd have to figure out how to handle it on your own time.

The welcoming committee stood off to the side of the small airfield. There were friends and mentors crowding the field, Professor X and the like. Some people you were only acquainted with, like Wade and his buddies. And while you enjoyed seeing each and every one of them, you were only looking for one person in particular - and he wasn’t difficult to find.

Colossus stood head and shoulders above the crowd, the tallest of the tall. He'd taken time away from his duties that day to welcome you home. Not that you expected any less - you’d been friends since you arrived at the mansion twenty years ago. He’d already “retired” from active duty himself, nearly six years earlier than you, if you remembered correctly. Said he liked teaching more than beating the shit out of people. Since he was going to be the one teaching you how to be a teacher, you were going to see firsthand if that was actually true.

Your team disembarked from the jet in a steady wave of mutants. They were the weirdest of the weird - graduates whose powers weren't optimal choices for task teams or active combat but were still “active” abilities. At its heart, your team was a squadron of people who could decimate wreckage or do something weird enough to make disposing of ickiness a little easier. You, as the leader of this squadron of weirdos, must have had the weirdest skill-set of all.

Your former team (that would take some getting used to) mingled in with the group on the airfield, hugging and high-fiving, yelling greetings and (playfully) rude comments. You stopped to greet Professor X, but that was where the fanfare for you ended. You systematically squeezed past everyone separating you from Colossus and, upon reaching him, grabbed him in a tight hug, much to his embarrassment. (He wasn’t great with public displays of affection - never had been.)

Behind them, Wade howled like a hyena.

You stepped away from Colossus, staring sheepishly at the ground, at the same time he stepped away from you. He stared at his feet, which meant that he was still pretty much staring down at you since he was a good foot and a half taller than you. You’d meant to embarrass him on purpose, not really taking into account that your face would probably turn red, too.

Colossus gave you a short once-over, almost too quickly to notice. You smoothed out the creases in your suit, feeling quite self-conscious. You hadn't thought about how you must look returning from a mission before you'd stepped off the jet - probably disheveled, a little ruffled, like you needed a good week of sleep and a hot shower. He, on the other hand, was impeccably clean in his uniform, gleaming chrome in the late morning sun and rippling with muscle. You could have drooled just looking at the line of his forearms, but he was simply too shiny to get a good look at.

He straightened up and stood up a little taller, trying to maintain a look of composure. “Welcome home!”

You tried to mirror his composure and found it to be too troublesome. You were tired and there were too many people crowding around. Wouldn't this be so much better if it were just Colossus welcoming you home instead of this unending crowd of people?

You knew it sounded forced, but you said it anyway. “I’m glad to be home for good this time!”

Colossus raised a glinting silver eyebrow. “Are you really?”

Sometimes he knew you a little too well. You couldn't truthfully tell him that you were ready to come home - just that it was time to come home. Really home - not living in a constant state of perpetually ready to leave at a moment’s notice, not waking up with the sounds of explosions or falling wreckage, not squished into a tiny box on the X-Jet or sleeping on a cot in a safehouse somewhere. You knew where your three square meals were coming from, where you would be sleeping at night when you had to wake up in the morning. You had weekends off now. Getting used to it was just going to take time.

Colossus sensed your apprehension but didn’t comment, though you could practically hear him thinking we'll talk about this later. You forced a grin. “It’s time to come home.”

“If you’re sure…” he replied, still incredulous. Yeah, he was going to make you talk about your feelings.

“I’m sure.”

He was obviously unsatisfied with your answer. “In any case, I’m glad you’re home."

Desperate to talk about anything else other than being home, you changed the subject. "Are we still meeting later?"

He'd mentioned in a mission brief that he wanted to meet to talk about your first day of teacher training. You suspected that it was more so a cover-up for his responsible adult questions about your mental health so that he could assess you before your retirement party. You appreciated that Colossus cared and made you talk about things, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that feelings were hard to talk about. Especially with him - it always seemed to be harder to show vulnerability with someone who truly cared.

He brightened. "Yes! After you settle in, of course."

"How about you come to get me after I take a nap?" you laughed. "You haven't given my room away, have you?"

"Your room is exactly as you left it," Colossus replied, just a little quieter than usual. He shifted and seemed just on the verge of saying something else, but instead, he said, "I'm sure you would rather get to bed than stay out here. Come!"

Colossus ushered you towards the mansion where everyone seemed to finally be meandering. You knew you couldn’t leave to go to your room just yet - still too many people to greet. You'd do absolutely anything to get in the shower and take a nap. Your shower sang a promise of warmth, and your bed called to you louder than any siren song, the promise of rest and safety like a hymn drifting down from your third-floor room. Maybe you could just fuck off and no one would notice...

As you stepped past the threshold of the mansion, you felt Colossus' hand on your shoulder. He leaned down close to your ear, and you fought back a shiver.

"Go. I will make an excuse for you," he said, nudging you gently towards the stairs.

You clapped your hands over your heart. "My hero."

You would swear on your life that he smiled his soft smile at that, but you'd already leapt onto the first stair and run out of sight.

Colossus was right - your room was exactly as you left it. Pillows arranged in a simple pattern at the head of the bed, navy blue comforter clean and unwrinkled. A desk was shoved into one corner, old and creaky but well-loved. An equally ancient dresser situated up against the wall, the dark wood cracking and hardware knobs oxidizing. You'd left a spare uniform on a chair next to the dresser and a stack of blankets neatly folded at the foot of your bed. Your bathroom door was wide-open, calling to you like a prayer.

You stripped down and turned on the water to let it heat up. You showered longer than you ever had, letting the scalding water beat down on your head and rinse shampoo suds out of your hair. When you were acceptably clean and shriveled up like a prune, you finally got out. The water had started to run cold anyway. You wrapped up in a towel, laid down on your bed, and before you knew it, you were out cold.

-----  -----  -----

You awoke an hour later to a knock at your door. Your hair was still wrapped up in a towel as you searched for a bathrobe (you could have sworn you left that on the chair instead of your uniform). You could pretty much guess who was at the door, so the desire to stay mostly undressed was pretty intense. Nevertheless, you covered up so that you could at least appear to be a presentable excuse for a human being.

You opened the door to find - who else - Colossus. He made a pointed effort not to stare down at you in your robe and wet hair. Not that you minded if he did. You'd have answered the door naked if you weren't afraid he'd run away.

"Sorry - just woke up."

He shifted, looking a mite uncomfortable. “I will be down in the kitchen whenever you are ready.”

You nodded, inching the door closed. “I’ll get dressed and be right down.”

Colossus started making his way down the hall. He called back over his shoulder, “I will make tea.”

“Coffee for me, please!” you called after his retreating back. You peeked out after him and watched him walk away. Man, his ass looked great in those pants.

“It will be decaf!”

“I want real coffee, Piotr!”

He might have replied to you, but you'd closed the door already. You grabbed the closest clean pair of pants and shirt that you could find. The clothes you grabbed may have been workout clothes, but after weeks and weeks of wearing your uniform, anything else was better than your uniform. And you’d make an attempt to look nice for the party tonight since everyone would be there - one person in particular, of course.

Speaking of that particular person, you scurried out of your room to join him down in the kitchen, locking your door behind you.

As you walked through the halls, you passed by the residents of the mansion milling around the dorm halls. Some you knew, but most were foreign to you. Your friends were either off on missions or had left the mansion a long time ago. Some were dead, memorialized on the walls. The few who had chosen to stay at the mansion were teachers now or stationed at a base far, far away.

The kitchen was on the first floor, just off to the side of the main hall. It had been remodeled, you remarked offhandedly as you sat down at the table. Colossus hunched over the new stove, fussing over the teakettle and a pair of mugs. The coffee pot next to him hummed and dripped black gold into the pot. Next to the coffee pot, the bag of coffee (not decaf!) was still open.

Colossus grabbed the mugs and sat down in front of you; his chair squeaked in despair but held steady. He passed your mug off to you. “I found some regular coffee you left last time you were home.”

“And here I remember you scolding me for drinking coffee so late in the afternoon,” you teased. You took a healthy sip from the scalding mug - thankfully, hot temperatures didn’t bother you (thanks, mutation). "Why the sudden change of heart?"

“I suspect that the party tonight will last much longer than anticipated,” Colossus replied, smirking. He blew on his mug of tea and took a ginger sip, grimacing. Unlike you, scalding temperatures sucked for him. “Your team makes a habit of partying until dawn.”

“Hey, we clean up dead bodies,” you said. You’d downed almost half the mug already and decided it was probably better to sip for the rest of the meeting. “Work hard, play hard.”

"They learned it from you," Colossus hummed. He sat his mug down. As suspected, he had an ~adult conversation~ planned. “You do not seem excited to be home.”

“Oh, no, I’m happy to be home,” you insisted. Your fingernails were suddenly more interesting than anything else in the room, particularly the man looking at you like a stray puppy. “It’s just hard to let go.”

“Adjusting to a less stressful situation is not easy, but you will have teaching to occupy your time and that’s certainly stressful,” Colossus agreed. His hand twitched as if he meant to stop you from peeling off your cuticles until your fingers bled, but he kept his hands on his tea mug. “And you have me - I have been through this already. Everyone in the mansion is your family, and we are all here for you.”

“I’ll adjust,” you replied shortly.

“And you know if you need to talk about it…”

“You know you’re the first person I’ll run to,” you said softly, cutting him off. You sat up straighter in your chair and took another sip of coffee. “Enough with the counseling session, today is supposed to be a happy day! Let’s talk about teaching!”

Colossus eyed you thoughtfully but conceded. “We will go over the lesson plans in detail later. You will start by teaching the middle-grades age group beginning next week. I want you to teach the little ones, but they are a bit rowdy and I don’t want to scare you away from teaching on your first day.”

“I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“You will also be assigned a trainee,” Colossus continued. “I have not finalized who will be assigned to you, but I have a solid idea.”

“Anyone I know?”

"I do not think so," he hummed. “She arrived while you were gone last time. She has similar abilities and a similar temperament. It is likely she will be assigned to cleanup upon graduation.”

“So, I’ll be training my replacement?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Colossus looked away, sheepish. “It was not intentional, but yes.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You pushed your mug away after draining the last bit of coffee. Colossus always kept a bag for you in the pantry, but you were pretty sure he didn’t know you knew. You knew you hadn’t left a bag of your regular brew behind - a bag of coffee grounds was one of the first things that went into your luggage. Hell, you’d started bringing your own coffee pot onto the X-Jet because your team would throw hands over the coffee pot. 

“I will come and check on you periodically,” Colossus said. “But I expect that you will be fine. Do you have any questions?”

You’d have questions when you actually started teaching, but you didn’t at that moment. Really, you just wanted to sit at the table and talk to him. Not about your feelings or teaching - just talking.

“No questions,” you replied. “Not about teaching, at least. You are coming to the party tonight, right?”

“I would not miss it!” Colossus said. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, grinning proudly. “I made the cake. And helped decorate.”

You laughed. “Of course, you did.”

“I am glad that you are home,” Colossus said simply, “and I wanted to be the one to welcome you back. Also, the cake is chocolate.”

“It’s not that protein cake stuff you made last time I was home, is it?”

“No," he smirked. "We will have plenty of time for protein cake after training tomorrow.”

You paled. “You’re not leading the workout, are you?”

Colossus could never be described as sinister. Intimidating, maybe. Scary, sometimes. But never sinister. Yet, his answering grin toed that line. “What better way to welcome you back than by leading your first workout?”

You could think of several ways to welcome you back that were better than suffering through one of Colossus’ workouts, naming locking him in your bedroom with you. You guessed that he was probably on the same page, but he wasn’t going to say it.

As long as you’d been friends, you’d been back and forth with the unspoken thing - that stupid mutual attraction that neither of you addressed because your respective lifestyles were explosive and hectic. Once Colossus had retired from missions, the unspoken thing had gotten more intense - a pining for you that you could sense without him saying it. It had gotten worse for you, too. It’s just that you weren’t ready to come home - until the day that you decided it was finally time.

Basically, last week. Damn your stubbornness.

“You’re going to run me into the ground before my first day,” you whined, though it was half-hearted.

“Tough workout is good for you!”

“Right, okay,” you replied. You stood up, grabbed both empty mugs, and marched to the sink. “I’m gonna go get ready for this wild party.”

"Leave the dishes. I'll get them."

"Too late - I beat you to it."

-----   -----   -----

You'd never seen your name written this many times. Everything had your name scrawled on it. The streamers hanging from the ceiling, resplendent black and gold, all spelled out your name and “Happy Retirement!” Your cake spelled out your name in Colossus’ careful block lettering. Even the wrapping paper on the handful of gifts in the center of the table spelled out your name (how the hell did they find that?). You really weren’t thrilled about the “retirement” part, but you could deal with it for the rest of the night.

You were greeted by a round of screaming and applause as soon as you walked down the stairs, started by none other than your own rowdy team. They'd already been drinking and had probably started as soon as the jet landed. The younger X-Men joined in, mostly just looking for a reason to cut loose and cheer. Your older friends joined in, much more subdued than the rest, but much more sincere with their claps on the back and gently pointed age jokes. Colossus’ team, headed up by the Man of Steel himself, presented you with a giant slice of cake and an even larger can of beer.

You knew your face must have been red from all the attention, but as soon as you dug into the cake and chugged half your beer, the embarrassment started to fade. The attention was awkward, but this was your party for your retirement, and damn it if you weren’t about to have a good time. You’d always enjoyed a good party, and that night was as good as any to get splendidly plastered with your team after a job well done.

You were two sheets to the wind in when Wade Wilson handed you your third can of beer. He, like most of the people in attendance, had elected to wear his uniform (you had chosen not to - you had to retire your current suit anyhow). He was wet from where he’d spilled beer all over the fake leather.

“I say we do shots after Shiny Jesus goes to bed for the night,” Wade cheered, offering his drink in a toast.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” You tapped his can in toast and took a long drink. “You’d never believe it, but he can out-drink everyone here. Shots go down for him like water.”

“You’re shitting me!”

You shook your head. Bad idea. The world spun topsy-turvy and took its sweet time before it righted itself. “Nope. I convinced Logan to smuggle me a bottle of straight vodka for my eighteenth birthday. Couple hours in, Kitty and I were puking in the corner - man, I got sick that night - and Piotr was still taking shots with frickin’ Wolverine like it was nothing.”

“That Colossus? Giant metal boy scout?” Wade stared, slack-jawed, over at Colossus, who was picking at the greens on his plate (not a single dessert in sight). “What happened? And what do I have to do to get him to cut loose like that?”

You shrugged. “If you figure it out, lemme know. I think that was the last time I’ve ever seen him do that - not that either of us has really been home long enough at the same time to party like that. He’s always been so responsible. I mean, I’m responsible too, but he’s just cut from a different cloth.”

Which was true. You had your irresponsible moments, but for the most part, you had your shit together. You couldn’t remember a time when Colossus had been anything less than poised and organized.

Wade leaned against the wall next to you. He had to be at least a full case in already. “So, uh, does he know?”

“I assume you’re talking about my feelings," you snorted. "Can’t imagine why people keep talking to me about that - it’s not like I’m an emotional disaster right now or anything. Yeah, he knows. He’s always known. It’s mutual.”

Wade paused. “And why are you not,” he gesticulated wildly, like he was working through some weird, cosmic math problem, “a thing? Like, why are you down here at this party instead of getting the Metal D?”

“Kind of hard to be a thing when you’re never home at the same time,” you replied, glancing over to where Colossus had set up camp. He was currently entertaining Professor X and a younger X-Man that you didn’t know, still stabbing at the salad on his plate. “Or only home for a couple of days at a time.”

“You know what you should do?” Wade asked, a sparkle in his eye. He chugged the last of his beer, crushed the can against his head, and tossed the garbage off into the corner.

“I have a feeling I know where this is going…”

“Sneak away, take the Tin Man upstairs, and get a real homecoming,” Wade said like it was some fantastic revelation or a particularly scandalous secret. “And if you get loud, we’ll all pretend tomorrow that it was the guy with the pigeon wings.”

You laughed. “I’m not opposed to the idea, but I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna go for that.”

“You won’t know unless you try!”

“Except I do know,” you replied, idly watching the way Colossus' muscles bulged every time he flexed his arms. “I think he thinks I’m going to run off on a mission and be gone by morning. It’s going to require finesse to show him that I’m home for good.”

“In that case,” Wade pushed off from the wall and draped his arm around your shoulders. He reeked of cheap cologne and trashy beer. “I hereby offer my services as your wingman, and hearing no objections, appoint myself to the position.”

Wade stuck out his hand for you to shake.

You peered down at his leather-bound hand. Wade was still something of an anomaly to you, but he seemed invested. Goofy and mildly annoying as he was, he obviously meant well. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a little help…

You took his hand and shook. “It’s a deal.”

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

In My Humble Opinion: Reboots/Revivals/Sequels/Prequels/Spin-Offs

I’ve written and rewritten what I’ve been trying to say about... we’ll call them refreshers, to fandoms. It’s just, refreshers can be a bit complicated, so coming up with a clear and structured response to them is a little tricky.

In general, I have nothing against refreshers. They tend to revive the fandom, which in turn; revives the interest in fanmade content that already exists, brings in new fans, starts up a wave of new fanmade content... Let’s just say it greases the wheels of the fandom and helps keep things going. So, are refreshers good? Bad? Do we need them? Want them? Sometimes we get them when we didn’t ask for them, the responses to such refreshers are mixed. Sometimes fans ask for them for years, and when they do get them, the responses are mixed.

Refreshes tend to come with a mixed bag of responses to them. It’s part of the deal, as the creators behind them try to please everyone, which is impossible. A lesson that is never learned despite the history of refreshers.

So a good refresher, one that allows a new audience to connect with the fandom while the older fans can appreciate something new. Let’s use She-Ra for an example. It aired originally in the 80s that lasted no longer than a year if I read the information correctly. Then in 2018, they revived it and the older fans were not happy, most of them. The changes to the series were significant. She-Ra was made younger, the style in which the series was done in was completely different, the themes in the series changed as well. Why? To allow a newer, younger, audience the ability to connect to this character. All of these changes pissed off a lot of the older fans, which were predominantly adult males, whereas the female fans seemed to have appreciated the redesign. But pushing those older man-fans aside, one has to remember 32 years had gone between the original and the reboot. Things needed to change, because the audience of today would not be able to connect with She-Ra otherwise. Or, at least, not as well. So this is an example of what I see as a good refresher.

A bad refresher, is the complete opposite. It tends to push the older fans away for various reasons, which will confuse newer ones as they will more likely go to the internet to try to connect with the older fans, only to have the older fans pointing out what they see as wrong and thus sway the newer fans to agree and leave/ignore the refresher. Whew, that was a mouth full. These sorts of refreshes feels as if they lost sight of the creative direction the original fandom was going in, or that certain aspects either get watered down or boundaries are pushed until the concept is lost entirely. Yes, some changes are needed, especially if the creators want to keep the fandom significant due to the changes of time. So things that were “hinted” at in the past, can now be open for display for the fans in the refresher. Time has allowed a lot to be published; there is a lot more gray areas in fandoms where before things were more black and white. However, creators tend to go for the whole buffet rather than focus on a few key points, making the refresher a big hot mess. At the moment I can’t think of a refresher to a fandom that falls more into this category that’s already been done, but I’m sure there are plenty.

But let’s get to the subject at hand, I’m going to go on about Hanyo no Yashahime: Sengoku Otogi Soshi, the supposed sequel to Inuyasha. I will use supposed a lot, as this is all still very new. So the idea of a sequel in and of itself for Inuyasha, is not... too bad. I think. I personally don’t see the need for one, and the original series had focused on the Shikon, and at the end of the original, the Shikon had been dealt with. The last chapter had closed that rather well, in my personal opinion.

What was shared, concept wise, about the supposed sequel... Well, to be honest, left a bad taste in my mouth. So it’s about the daughters of Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru respectively, nothing wrong with that. How they went about with these daughters is what leaves a lot to be desired. The daughter between Inuyasha and Kagome has no happy memories of her parents, which pretty much pissed the whole fandom off. Even those that don’t ship Inuyasha and Kagome. The original series with its original fans all agree that Kagome would never neglect nor abandon her children nor would she allow Inuyasha to do so either, just look at how she interacted with children when she herself was 15 throughout the original series. If she was that motherly at that age, then it’s hard to see her as a horrible mother in the sequel. So everyone seems to be in an agreement that Inuyasha and Kagome must be dead in the sequel, most likely died off when their daughter was still very young. Or missing.

Now for Sesshoumaru’s daughters. It’s said the mother was an unknown human woman, but a lot of fans speculate that it’s Rin. Now, to those that ship the pairing, they are more likely over the moon at the idea. For the rest of us, not so much, but I’ll leave that particular discussion for another post. And that’s not even scratching at what happens to the twins. One falls through the Well and gets adopted by an older Souta. I mean, kudos for him for doing so, but after the original series, a child showing up with demonic attributes and dressed in fashions of the past, he should have realized that this child was from the past and sent them back on their way. If he couldn’t do so, I could then see him adopting her as a viable option until things could be figured out on how to get this girl back to her family. Besides, the original series had the Shikon as a catalyst that allowed the Well to be used for time travel, so with it gone, how did this girl travel through time? Sure there was one incident where Kagome didn’t need the shards to do so, but... technicalities. And if the Shikon is not needed, then anyone and anything could use the Well to travel through time when before only Inuyasha and Kagome could do so. Why though? What changed? And can Kagome use it to visit her family now? Did she return to the future and end up stuck? As for the other twin, she has her memories of her sister stolen from her. Okay... I mean, for immediately after the disappearance understandable, not far fetched, but what about the long run? Sesshoumaru is the father, I highly doubt he would let one of his children roam about in the future, so he would go collect her, since the Well allows anyone through it now. Nor would he allow his other daughter to continue thinking she was an only child. He would see to it that that was fixed up right away. At the least, family and friends would remind her of her sister, showing evidence of such. In the worst case scenario, Sesshomaur is dead or missing as well to allow something like this to continue.

That’s about it in the concepts that were share, but it’s a hot mess already. If the sequel is real, that it’s going to happen, a lot of us are hoping that things change by the time it’s published. Otherwise...

What most of us are asking, is why now? Was the sequel already planned for, but for various reasons is only happening now? Understandable if that’s so, life is the way it is. If not, then why do it now? Is it due to the various other fandoms that are going through revivals/reboot/sequels? Is this just a bandwagon thing? If so, then it feels very unnecessary.

Some are willing to wait to see, as the concepts are still very new and can change by the time the sequel does come out. But for many of us, it’s either forbidden fruit or rotting fruit, something best left alone. So, with that said, I’ll finish my opinion here.

I welcome comments and arguments, healthy ones, about what everyone thinks on the idea of an Inuyasha sequel. Do you agree? Disagree? Please let me know.

[kumeko]

Title: earth angel

A/N: For @desibrucewayne, for the @dc-secret-santa. You wanted Talia/Bruce, Cassandra, Damian, and time travel. I hope I delivered on it!

…

…

…

…

Damian grimaced at the sand at his feet. His feet were sinking into the soft, loosely held together sand dune. Around him was more endless sand, a golden yellow as far as the eye could see. He glanced at the hot sun distastefully, his skin already starting to burn mere minutes after appearing on the soft sands.

 The soft sands of a desert. Damian was in a desert. This was no hallucination or illusion. He was in the desert. And apparently in full Robin costume. At least he wasn’t alone; Cassandra Cain stood next to him and judging by her body language, she was just as confused as he was.

 How could they have fucked up this badly? His brow furrowed as he considered it all. “How did we get here?”

“I am not sure.” Cassandra nonchalantly took off her cowl and shook her head. She ran a hand through her sweaty locks with a frown. The costumes were able to handle temperature changes but nothing this extreme. “Weren’t we meeting Stephanie?”

 “Stephanie?” Damian closed his eyes, trying to remember what had just happened. It was impossible to forget Stephanie’s blinding purple uniform, as ugly now as it had been when they’d first met. As Batgirl, she’d waved to them from a roof, gesturing for them to come closer. Behind her, he had spotted a blue-skinned boy approaching her. “There was some kind of alien with her.”

 “Alien?” Cassandra blinked before her lips parted in a soft ‘oh’. “Klarion was with her. And you attacked him.”

 “I thought he was attacking her,” Damian defended himself, crossing his arms.

 “He wouldn’t do that.” Cassandra paused. “Usually, at least.” She gestured at their surroundings. “That explains this—he has teleportation powers.”

 “Teleportation?” Damian ground his teeth. He hated magic. There was no good way to counter or negate it. “Can that nitwit teleport us back?”

 “Probably.” Cassandra rubbed her neck. “Though that depends on his mood.”

 “So we have to rely on Stephanie to make him do it?” His eyebrow twitched. That idiotic beam of sunlight didn’t know how to threaten anyone. Then again, if there was someone who was persistently annoying, it was her. Maybe Klarion would summon them back just to get her to shut up. He pulled out his communicator. It would be faster to just call the Batcave and get a helicopter. “I’ll just send for—it’s not sending any messages.” He tapped the screen but that didn’t change the status. “It’s not connecting to the satellite.”

 “That’s odd. Bruce planned for locations like this.” After considering it for a moment, Cassandra pushed her hair back, tying it in a ponytail. “We have to find shelter. It isn’t good to be out like this.”

 “I know that.” Damian snorted derisively, pocketing the communicator. If there was one good thing about their teleportation, it was that he recognized the area. “One of my grandfather’s old bases is nearby. We can wait there.”

 “I do not want to fight all of his men,” Cassandra frowned.

 “It’s abandoned,” Damian answered, already heading toward it. “It won’t be a problem.”

 -x-

 “I thought you said it was abandoned,” Cassandra whispered as she peeked over a sand dune.

 “It’s supposed to be,” Damian snapped back as he stared at the definitely-not-abandoned base. There were jeeps and camels leaving it. People were walking in and out at steady intervals. Hell, there was even a patrol.

 Someone had taken over his grandfather’s base.

 He wasn’t sure if he should want revenge or want to laugh at the old fool for leaving the place so vulnerable.

 “That doesn’t change anything,” Damian continued, memorizing the patrol pattern. Fortunately, the employees here were incompetent, leaving gaping holes in their security. Perhaps a lesser man would fail to find a way, but this was child’s play for two would-be-assassins. “If anything, this will make sending a message easier.”

 “We will have to be careful not to be spotted.” Cassandra pulled her cowl back over her head. The jaggedly-pieced together Batgirl outfit was truly frightening in the dark alleys of Gotham. In the bright sunlight of the desert, it was just extremely out of place. “There is nowhere to hide the bodies.”

 “You’re wearing all black,” he pointed out snidely.

 “That is not a problem,” she replied instantly, already getting to her feet. “I can handle that much.”

 -x-

 “This is strange,” Damian muttered as they slowly stalked the hallways of the base. It had been almost child’s play to get in and they didn’t even have to take out a single guard to secure their entry.

 That said, there was something truly unsettling about how Cassandra managed to disappear while they snuck in. He should have been able to spot her the entire time. It was black on gold.

 “What is?” Cassandra asked, slipping to a wall and peeking around the corner. There were many intersections and bends in the hallway. Occasionally they’d pass by a stone chamber filled with food or other supplies. So far, there were no signs of a communications room.

 “This place.” Damian gestured at the rigid stone walls. They all looked perfectly cut and clean. “The walls look like they were made recently. They haven’t been used in years.”

 “They cleaned up?” Cassandra suggested, poking her head into yet another dark chamber. “There’s only ammunition in this one.”

 “But there’s no way to hide that much decay—” Damian stopped talking. Behind him, he could hear footsteps echoing through the hall, quiet and intimidating. “Someone’s coming.”

 “Hide,” Cassandra urged, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the chamber.

 “We can take him,” Damian grunted, but he reluctantly crouched behind a barrel of guns. With bated breath, he waited as the footsteps grew louder and louder, a large shadow appearing on the walls. With the only light torches, the primitive cave felt more primal than it ought to be. Finally, when the shadow took over the entire wall, a man appeared in front of their chamber.

 Batman, Damian thought, his eyes growing wide. Father.

 There was no mistaking that cowl, though the design was an old one. Even the build fit correctly. “It’s not bad enough they’re taking grandfather’s base, they’re also copying Father?” he growled, pulling out a dagger.

 “Wait.” Cassandra grabbed his hand, stilling it. “Not yet.”

 “And let that insult walk by?” Damian hissed. He yanked his hand free and quickly slinked off to follow the imposter.

 “Damian!” Cassandra quickly chased after him. Or rather, considering that they didn’t want to alert anyone, they both quietly slinked down the hall. The torchlights flickered and Damian hung back as far as he could, trying not to get caught before he interrogated and slit the imposter’s throat.

 Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to wait long. The copycat was coming to a stop before a chamber. All Damian had to do was follow him inside and no one would be the wiser.

 Cassandra caught up to him as he hid around a corner. Don’t she signed, glaring at him.

 Watch me he signed back, watching as the imposter stood in front of a door.  

 After a moment, his mother appeared at the door and Damian bit back a gasp. When had she—that explained the base’s use, but she had been dismantling Ra’s bases the last he’d heard. What was she doing here? And why did she look so different? As his thoughts derailed, she stood on her toes and pulled off Batman’s cowl. It was only a profile, but Damian recognized him immediately.

 That was Bruce Wayne.

 A younger Bruce Wayne. A younger Talia Al Ghul.

 He had gone to the past.

 -x-

 “This is the past,” Damian stated, if only to hear it aloud. His parents were in the chamber down the hall. Was he even born at this point? All of this because a blue demon couldn’t control his powers properly. His hand curled into a fist. When he got back, he was going to beat that demon until he was black and blue.

 “It seems so. That makes things…difficult,” Cassandra replied. An understatement, truly. “I do not know if Klarion can bring us back.”

 “Why can’t he?” Damian growled, pacing back and forth in the ammunition chamber they’d hid in earlier. They needed a place to think, to comprehend, but perhaps they should have picked another. His fingers were getting an urge to grab several of the daggers here.

 “Stephanie said he could not control his powers properly,” Cassandra replied slowly, rubbing her neck. She sat cross-legged on a barrel, watching him. “We will have to find another magician. Maybe Zatanna can help.”

 “Her?” Damian frowned. He had never been overly impressed with her work. Then again, none of the ‘heroes’ were adept magicians as far as he was concerned. Perhaps he should have stuck with his mother, after all.

 His mother.

 The image of her embracing Bruce flashed across his mind and involuntarily, he glanced at the direction of her chambers.

 “She can connect us with others.” Cassandra leapt off the barrel. “I will find a way to contact her. You find a vehicle.”

 “You don’t order me around,” Damian snapped but it was too late, Cassandra had already disappeared down the hall. He clicked his tongue as he rolled his eyes. And people complained about his communication skills.

 Still, there wasn’t a flaw with her plan. Even if Zatanna could teleport them, it was better if they didn’t stay here. He wasn’t sure if they’d accidentally contact his parents and change the course of history. Change the course of his existence. He would just have to steal one of the jeeps he knew his grandfather kept out here.

 Quickly, he snuck to the chamber’s exit and peeked outside. The coast was clear, as usual. It was no wonder his grandfather’s plans failed so spectacularly, if this was the skill his henchman showed. From his memory of the layout, the jeeps were kept two floors below. He’d have to access the stairwell to reach them discretely.

 Damian glanced to his left one more time, to his mother’s chambers.

 He should go.

 He should go.

 He turned left.

 -x-

 Love was blind, Dick had declared once.

 Damian finally understood what he meant. His parents were blind. Utterly, completely blind. He was mere meters away from them, hiding in a darkened corner of his mother’s chambers, and somehow neither Batman nor Talia had noticed him.

 It was impossible.

 He was never going to fall in love.

 Yet, despite that, he couldn’t leave the room. His parents were sitting on the balcony, eating dinner on a small round table. It looked so informal. Bruce was holding Talia’s hand as she talked, a small smile on his face. He looked light, unburdened. Talia leaned closer, a coy expression as she gently swirled wine in her glass.

 Damian watched, transfixed. He didn’t know what to make of this sight, of this woman who was not his mother, this man who was not his father.

 Of this relationship that no longer existed.

 -x-

 Damian whirled the keys around his finger as he stood next the jeep.

 “You weren’t spotted?” True to form, Cassandra reappeared next to him, holding an old school radio.

 “I took care of it.” He jabbed a thumb at the wall. Three of his grandfather’s followers were knocked out, bound and gagged against the wall. “You can tell Dick I didn’t kill anyone.”

 “I knew you wouldn’t.” Cassandra smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder. Damian tried not to feel too pleased about it. Swiping the keys, she headed to the jeep. “Let’s go.”

 “I could drive,” he grumbled but he went to the other side of the jeep anyways. “You contacted Zatanna?”

 “Not while we’re here,” Cassandra replied. The jeep hummed to life as she turned on the ignition and she winced. It was a sound they couldn’t muffle. “Ra’s might monitor it.”

 “I doubt he was wise enough to set that up,” Damian sniped, still utterly disappointed by the lackluster guards in the area.

 “Don’t underestimate your grandfather.” Cassandra slowly crept out of the garage, keeping the lights low.

 “Maybe when he proves himself.” Damian glanced back as they quietly rolled out of the compound, in the direction of his mother’s chambers.

 He knew the story well enough, of his mother’s lies, of his father’s fears. It was a story that would be replayed now.

 Yet, he hadn’t known his parents’ joy. His parents’ love. They looked happy, truly happy, for that one meal and while he was never one to think of what-ifs, they haunted his mind now. If he had revealed himself, preventing his mother’s lies, how would it all have changed? Would they have stayed together? Would their relationship change?

 Would he have changed?

 No, there was no need to dwell on it. Just like the desert around him, the possibilities were vast. Damian was who he was now, and he didn’t intend to change that.

 “I’ll call Zatanna,” he said, fiddling with the radio. The sooner they got out of here, the sooner he could put it all out of his mind.

[vydante]

ey babe! i jus wanna ask, how’s restart? ya wanna share any plans you have for it for the future? and btw, i love the story and your writing!

Hi hun!

It’s- honestly?

Ch.11 went a whole different route than what I was planning on doing (hell, I’ll even put the TWO whole ass drafts under the read more; warning, it’s SUPER long and I’m never using it so no losses on my part) but I’m happy it went the way it did haha. I finished it in 2 solid days, even if it took me months to update.

Uhh, as for future plans...?

*SPOILERS FOR RESTART? But not really?*

Next two chapters we (SHOULD BE, NO GUARANTEES) are gonna be dealing with CA:TWS... Then, right afterward, we may or may not have a filler chapter, and then we’ll dive into a certain Sokovian base (wink wink). As for AOU... Hm. ;)

AAAH I have so much stuff I wanna tell you guys about :,)

Well, so far that’s what I (canonically) have lined up.

As for other junk: I have 4 specials drafted, 2 What If’s (not canon, but mainly for filler and exploring unused ideas :D) and like, a couple out of place chapters that I wanna slide in the future arcs.

BTW, I have a question to ask: if I had any trashed drafts or whatever, do you guys wanna read it? I’ll post it all in one post (other than Ch.11, I don’t have any other trash right now, but still), probably here.

Anyways. Below cut is the cut draft PT.1 for Ch. 11. WARNING: it might be super incoherent.

Admittedly, Project Renaissance was a huge file.

Of course, it wasn't just all about one particular thing. No, there were files and files that lay underneath it, but even then each one was just as large as the other.

There were ones like 'World Domination', where it was just filled with new projects and products for Stark Industries, like prosthetics (SI really branched into the medical field after your dad made Rhodey his leg braces) and newer editions of tablets, phones, and laptops, too. Hell, even your car and motorbikes blueprints were on there, too- something SI had never dived into up until you had taken over. Improvements in cleaner energy were also there, but that's been the main target for SI for years, so that didn't really count.

Then there were files like 'Supernova' and 'Milky Way', which were a bit more important than others. Project Supernova had to do with Extremis. You wanted to stabilize it as much as possible, then throw it into the darkest corner possible and never have to look back at it; you only wanted it to serve as a... The last resort, of sorts.

Yeah, sure, Tony had a stable version of Extremis locked and loaded, hidden deep into the Tower's database, but it was barely usable. And as for Project Milky Way, it's more or less a Stark Internship program. It'd be really beneficial to high school (and maybe middle school) students, so you suppose...

("More like an excuse to properly recruit that Parker boy," DAHLIA snarks. Brat.)

But what had your constant attention were the big dogs, which, if you remembered correctly, should be happening quite soon.

Files like 'Snakes In The Grass' (S.H.I.E.L.D.-RA), 'Hot Tub Time Machine' (Sargeant Barnes), and 'On Your 6' (Project Insight) all had your attention right now, and for obvious reasons, as you nervously glance at your calendar.

3 more months. 

That was about all the time you had left before the big day was supposed to happen, and you were nowhere near as prepared as you should be. 

Sure, you had lots of contingency and protocols planned out already, but there was only so much you could predict what would happen. 

God, it sucks that you're not 21 yet, because your mind sure is buzzing for some Jäger right about now. You're not an alcoholic by a long shot but... You glanced at a picture of you and your dad.

You sure as hell understood alcoholics, though.

And for that, you needed to get your hands on B.A.R.F. All you need is to remember that one guy's name...

"DAHLIA, pull up the files for, ah... What was his name? Quin... Quincy? No, no... Gw- Quenti- Quentin Bank- Beck? Beck. Quentin Beck- give me his file."

"I was worried you were having a stroke."

"I will if I don't see his file in T-minus 1 second."

You wiped your jittery hands clean of any leftover muck, definitely feeling 5 shots of espresso and 2 hours of intermittent sleep finally taking its toll. You glanced through the files that she had pulled up. There were the basic files: his biography, works, and reports, but those weren't what you were interested in.

"Filter it for anything regarding- uh- B.A.R.F. Like- eh- Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing."

All of the files slimmed up to where it was all organized in one, neat folder. You quickly skimmed through all of it, but it all seemed to be experimental work. For now, anyway.

"Progress on B.A.R.F.?"

"Mr. Beck and his team are currently

There he was, in all of his glory. Though he was immaculately dressed in all black, just as you remembered when you and your dad had to clean up the mess that was the fight on the highway. 

God, he's even bigger in person.

"Identify yourse-!"

As much as you didn't want the room to look like a hospital room, you hadn't exactly had all the time in the world to prepare the room for the man of the hour. 

Still knocked out, 

"Hey, Jon Snow. You 'wake?"

Taking a closer look at him, he looked a lot more worse for wear than you had remembered him being. Then again, the Barnes you saw was completely free of the brainwashing, a-la Princess Shuri and the Wakandan scientists.

(You knew eavesdropping was wrong. It didn't need an explanation as to why.

But despite all that, you made no effort to walk away from listening to the conversation that was going on between your dad and Prin- King T'Challa. It was obvious to you and your dad- along with anyone else with a brain in their skull- that the ex-Avengers (or, at least, Barnes)- was in the nation that was Wakanda. You didn't know how your dad had managed to skirt around that with T'Challa, but you didn't really care.

You just wanted to know what they're gonna do about it.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Dr. Stark? While I know that I, along with Mr. Barnes as well, would appreciate your more than generous offer... I also understand that there is... Tension between the two of you..."

Generous offer?

What the hell is T'Challa going on about? What offer?

"Just... promise me one thing."

"Just... I don't want him to- to try and find me. And if you can't do that- then... Then at least make sure he doesn't get near (Name)."

You bristled.

What?

"(Name)? Your son?"

"Yeah."

"If you could oblige me, may I know your reasoning?"

You strained your ears to the best of your abilities, but even your dad's murmuring was too intelligible for you to make out any words.

"I... I see... If those are your terms, then we will graciously accept the use of your Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing technology for Mr. Barnes's recovery..."

What?)

Your dad was more than happy to not take partial credit for Barne's recovery, so long as it was kept a promise that Barnes stay every little bit away from him (and you, surprisingly enough).

So, it was really unfair that you pitted 2023 Barnes against...

That.

Blank eyes stare directly in front of him, and interestingly enough, he doesn't make an effort to look you in the eye. He's strapped in his chair for extra precautions, but the lingering resignation in his eyes, no matter how blank they are, makes you want to vomit. It makes you sick, knowing that after each mission he's sent out on, he's probably getting strapped back into a goddamn chair and getting his whole hard drive wiped and reconfigured...

You glanced away from him, subtly bringing your hand up to your mouth. You coughed, praying that nothing comes up to your mouth as disgust fills your gut.

"Mission parameters incomplete."

His voice was quiet, for what it was. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but the softness of it was a surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"Mission parameters incomplete."

"Ah, man..."

"Yeah, no, how am I not surprised...?"

"Uh, hm. Hm, hm, hm..."

You pursed your lips.

He visibly perked up- either that, or you're kind of losing it.

"Oh well, that doesn't matter, I can fill the air with my gibberish anyways."

No response. Just a bleary and blank stare.

At least he was looking at you.

You smile.

"That's fine. Either way, as long as I have a say in it, you're not going back to HYDRA. I'll make sure of that, Barnes."

[meara-eldestofthemall]

                            Too Many Tims :

   A plea for DC to fix Tim Drake’s continuity

It’s so nice to see Tim Drake as Robin again in the new Young Justice series. For the first time since the end of the Red Robin series in 2011, Tim is being written correctly. 

He’s a nice kid, a slightly shy and awkward 16-year-old. Despite the fact that he has the skills to kick major bad-guy butt, Tim has the common touch that makes him eminently relatable. He says “ouch” when he falls and worries about passing his up-coming chemistry test. Best of all, the person in charge of the new Young Justice series, Brian Bendis, has made absolutely clear that Tim Drake being Robin once again is in continuity/cannon with the rest of the current DC universe.

Since DC has an ever-shifting idea of what the word means I have to wonder what cannon would that be, exactly?

DC torpedoed its original continuity back in 2011. The Powers-That-Be deciding that there was simply too much back story to make sense of after over 70 years. They introduced the New-52 in an attempt at a clean slate of sorts. It was so awful that they scrapped the New-52 within 5 years and did a do-over with the Re-Birth universe in 2016. That left DC with some choices as to what continuity they would use for their characters. For Tim Drake they could:

     A - Use the original cannon dating back to Tim’s introduction in 1989.      B - Use the New-52 cannon.      C - Give Tim yet another new back story and cannon.      D - None of the above

DC, helpful as always, chose “D - None of the above.”

Tim was now Red Robin who was, then wasn’t previously Robin. He was 17. Then he was 16. He had no idea who Conner Kent was…

… until suddenly Kon is Superboy again in the DC universe. 

For a very long time Dick behaved as if he and Tim barely knew each other, then train-surfing and all that implied was cannon again.

Just when you think that they’re going back to Tim’s original back-story they casually drop a New-52 reference:

The constant changes on Tim’s back story so chaotic that it gives me a migraine trying to follow it all. The above panel makes me wonder, did he go through all of the Robin suit changes?

The traditional-Robin-in-the-pixie boots Robin:

The classic Tim-was-the-first-Robin-to-wear-tights Robin:

The pre-Red Robin super-duper-really-red Robin:

The Alex-Ross-suit-with-the-cowl Red Robin:

The New-52-vegas-showgirl Red Robin:

The ReBirth oh-look-it’s-Tim’s-original-suit Red Robin:

Let me try and make sense of what DC is, as of today, saying is cannon. Tim is now 16 and Damian is now 13. Is it still cannon that Damian became Robin about 3 years ago? If so, then that means that Tim was 13 when Dick replaced him with Damian because that storyline is apparently cannon again in the Re-Birth continuity:

DC really expects us to think that Richard Grayson, big-brother extraordinaire, would have decided that stripping 13-year-old Tim Drake of Robin in order to give it to Damian was a good idea? They want us to believe that Dick was okay with letting a 13-year-old Tim travel the world looking for clues that Bruce wasn’t dead? If that was cannon again then logic dictates that Red Robin took down both the Council of Spiders and the League of Assassins while he was in middle school. Geez, no wonder Ra’s al Ghul is so hot to have Tim Drake become his heir.

Wow! Think what the kid will be able to do once he reaches an age when he has to start shaving regularly!

There are so many questions that need answers. What happened to Tim’s parents? Was Janet killed by (and this name makes me cringe) the Obeah Man? Was Jack murdered by Captain Boomerang? Did he still turn into a little ball of angst as everyone died around him? Is the New-52 still in effect where Tim’s folks are living under an assumed name somewhere in Ohio?

My hope is that what DC is doing in the “Doomsday Clock” series will help to straighten this mess out. They made a really big deal out of Tim figuring out that something was not kosher about how everyone was remembering the past. When last we saw him in Detective Comic, he was off to investigate the timelines. Tim does show up as Red Robin in the next issue when Doctor Manhattan seems to do a Thanos and turns everyone to dust:

You know what? If this would stop DC from changing what they consider cannon on a monthly basis, then starting over from scratch just might be a blessing. The bottom line is that DC needs to stop constantly retconning Tim Drake. Tim was immensely popular with readers when he was the Robin in the 90’s Young Justice series. Happily, Brian Bendis sees that. I just hope the editorial board at DC will too.

[turnupswritessometimes]

Lavender Eyes - Glimmerdora - For the She-Ra Big Bang

Title: Lavender Eyes

Word Count: 9998

Summary: Adora’s on the football tem. Glimmer’s in band. They think they can’t stand each other, until a series of accidents forces them to open up to each other.

Note: This is also available on Archive of Our Own and I will be continuing it as a multi-chapter fic over there. I would post a link, but then tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

THE ART WAS DONE BY THE AMAZING S9MU (@s9mu - show them all the love in the world!)

“Could you stop jiggling your leg?” the girl sitting next to Adora snapped.

Adora stilled her leg, taking a deep breath and holding it. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Why are you even here?” she continued, turning to Adora. She was shorter, even while sat down on these plastic chairs.

“Because it was my fault,” Adora said, which was actually the truth. It had been her who’d thrown the dodgeball. At the time, she had felt red hot anger in every one of her muscles. Even when it had smacked the girl on the side of the head with a resounding ‘thonk,’ she had felt immense satisfaction. It was only when she had gone down like a sack of bricks that Adora’s stomach had lurched.

Oh fuck, she’d thought. She had actually really hurt her.

Whilst Catra and Lonnie were slapping her on the back, she had been rushing over to her. Because, yes, she hated this girl – most people did.

Adora guessed it was all the ‘student council this’ and ‘student council that’ and ‘did you know my mum is the principal?’ It was always – ‘the art and drama department needs more funding instead of the sports department.’ It was always the way that she looked at Adora whenever she spoke in class – especially if she answered questions correctly.

But looking back on it now, she could barely remember saying more than a quick question to the girl at any time. A ‘do we have homework today?’ or ‘could you put this in the back of the van?’ when they were packing up for an away game.

Now here they were, alone outside the nurse’s office. There was the distant rumble of chatter from the classrooms opposite them and most of Adora wished more than anything to join them. She wanted to change out of her sweaty leggings and oversized t-shirt and pretend like nothing had happened. Like she didn’t care that she had all but knocked a girl out in dodgeball. Catra wouldn’t. In fact, Catra would preen about it for the rest of the day.

But the rest of her – the smaller part –  wanted to make sure that the girl was okay. It was a part of herself that she rarely indulged – because helping other people didn’t get her to the top. It didn’t make her good at football and it didn’t make her top of the class.  Just once, she wanted to indulge that part.

It was different without Catra and Lonnie behind her. She felt hidden. No one would find out about this – no one was here to witness it. No one would know that Adora was talking to the student council president who everyone despised – Glimmer.

“It was your fault? I thought you were aiming for me.”

“It’s dodgeball,” Adora said. “You’re meant to aim at each other.”

“You don’t have to throw the thing like you’re trying to get a touchdown!”

A football joke? Really? That was low hanging fruit.

“So, what? I’m supposed to go easy on you because you’re not on the football team?” Adora wasn’t even look at her. She was looking straight ahead to keep her temper – even if her hands were gesturing beyond her control. She was trying to do a nice thing here – the decent thing.

Maybe this was why she shouldn’t indulge the ‘helping others’ part of herself.

“No – but maybe go easy on the fat kid!”

Adora looked then, just in time to see Glimmer slumping back in her chair with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. She met Adora’s eyes with a determined glare.

“You’re not fat.”

It hadn’t even been an automatic response. Not a ‘does my arse look big in this?’ ‘no, of course not,’ knee-jerk reply. Adora had meant it.

Of course – she wasn’t thin. But she wasn’t fat, either Not with the negative connotations that everyone attached to it. Glimmer had curves – but they were graceful curves. Curves that made her look like a Rembrandt painting.  She wasn’t tall and hard and pinched like Adora.

Glimmer didn’t hear the sincerity in Adora’s voice. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” She was leaning on her knees, looking over her shoulder at Glimmer. The eye-roll had made her notice that her eyes were grey – but not really grey. More like violet. The colour Barbie eyes used to be. They were almost shocking against her olive skin and dark eyelashes.

Those eyes narrowed at Adora.

“So, your friend ‘accidentally’ tripped me up in the hall yesterday and ‘accidentally’ knocked my bag off my shoulder this morning and now you’re sitting here paying me compliments?”

“That – that’s not – Catra doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Doesn’t she?”

“She just – she likes to get under people’s skin. She steals my stuff all the time at home – hides it all over the house. When I’m studying, she’ll knock shit off my desk just for a laugh.”

“Then it seems like a lot of you like to get under people’s skin,” Glimmer muttered. She scuffed her sneaker on the floor and it squeaked. She must have been the only kid in gym not wearing converses.

Adora didn’t know what to say to that. She shrugged and pushed the stray hairs away from her face, tightening her ponytail. ‘Maybe if you weren’t so opinionated about everything’, she wanted to say. Or ‘maybe if you weren’t so annoying people would leave you alone.’

But Glimmer’s gaze had softened. Only slightly, but her voice dropped too.

“I didn’t know you lived with her.”

“Huh? Oh – yeah, I’m – I’m adopted. We both are. Put with the same foster mother because we were so inseparable. I mean – the home was ready to separate us, but Beatrix said it was fine.”

“I’m – sorry.”

It was mainly that awkward apology that everyone gave her when they found out. The sorry that Adora couldn’t understand and was starting to hate. Maybe there was a slither of sincerity in it, but she doubted it.

“I never got that,” she said – and wondered why she was only saying it now. Maybe it was just the sorry that broke the camel’s back. Maybe she knew that Glimmer wasn’t about to tell anyone. “That’s just the way it is. I’m adopted. If I wanted people to be sorry about it, I wouldn’t tell them about it.”

“Because you hate being the centre of attention, right?” The sarcasm was back, dripping in full force.

“I wouldn’t make a big deal of never knowing my parents just for attention,” Adora spat. “Shit – who do you think I am?”

“Practically perfect in every way. Adored by the whole school for being able to run fast and kick a ball.”

“Right, yeah – I’m just a dumb jock.” Adora’s face was burning – it always did when she got mad. “Oh, wait, no – I’m a straight A student.”

“So am I!”

“Well good for you!”

“You too!”

“I don’t even know why I-“ Adora stood. She let her fists clench and unclench a few times, like she was wringing out her anger through a sponge. “I don’t even know why I even bothered. I hope I gave you a concussion.”

“Oh, screw you, Adora.”

“Right back at you!”

The door to the nurse’s office opened then. She blinked between the two of them. Maybe she had heard the screaming match, maybe she was just ready now. Adora didn’t know and she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She opened her mouth to explain, closed it, then simply pointed a finger at Glimmer and charged back down the corridor.

That had hurt. That had hurt more than she had thought it would.

She didn’t care about her parents. She never had – but to say she was trying to get attention for it? Glimmer was the one who had brought it up.

Maybe she did deserve to have Catra trip her up – if she was going to start being spiteful for no reason like that. Or if she was going to decide things about people without even knowing anything about them. If she was going to hate Adora for being good at things. Of course, she was good at things. She worked hard to be good at things. She didn’t have free time – she had practice, practice, practice.

Adora slowed to a halt in the middle of the corridor. She could still see that eye-roll in her mind’s eye. Purple eyes. A small, sarcastic, disbelieving smile. That was Glimmer’s smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a genuine smile from her.

What would it look like?

What would it be like to be friends with someone who had that glimmer of sincerity in their ‘sorry?’

No one she knew gave genuine apologies. Catra didn’t apologise for shit and even when she did, it was muttered with rolled eyes and a ‘I can’t believe you’re seriously upset,’ tone. Lonnie was sarcastic – everyone on the team was sarcastic when they apologised. Or just uncaring. An automatic response.

And Glimmer thought that she was like them. That when she said, ‘you’re not fat,’ she hadn’t even meant it. Like she was just an empty, performative shell.

She gritted her teeth, the anger coursing through her now.

Her hand flew out, punching a locker.

And she regretted it two seconds later, when a burst of pain blossomed across her knuckles. She hadn’t even made a dent and it hadn’t even made the anger waver.

“Who was that for?”

She whipped her head around to the sound of the voice and suppressed a groan. Of course – who else but Glimmer’s best friend? The only other member of the student council who acted like they had a responsibility. Bow, she thought his name was. He was leaning against the lockers down the corridor, a ratty jacket slung over his gym kit.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, since you tried your best to dent Glimmer’s skull, I figured you’d have the decency to punch her to her face,” he said. He shook his head, though he was smiling slightly. “Doing it behind her back like this…she’ll be mad when she finds out.”

Adora frowned. The adrenaline was fading now.

“Are you teasing me?”

“I tease everyone. It’s why I’m so lovable.”

“I’m not sure the school agrees with that last bit.”

“Oh, the school doesn’t have to. The student body is just jealous of my insanely lovable nature.”

Adora wasn’t sure whether to laugh or get angrier. She stood there, staring at him. He was smiling at her, but there was something else behind it. Like he was sussing her out. She had never understood this boy – this boy who played flute and whose shirts always looked like they had shrunk in the wash. This boy who wore heels and just finger-gunned at anyone who laughed. Like he didn’t care. How could he not care? Appearances were everything.

“I’m guessing you snuck out of class to check on her?” she asked instead.

“That’s what friends do, yes.”

Was it? Catra just glanced across at Adora and murmured an ‘oh, you’re back,’ whenever she had to go to the nurse.

“Well, your friend is a right tit,” Adora said.

“I’m sure she’d say the same to you.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what I’ve done to earn this unbridled hatred.”

“Unbridled hatred?” Bow raised a heavy eyebrow. He was smiling like she amused him – like she was part of some joke to him. “It’s not you – it’s the whole team. None of you have any respect for us band kids.”

“And you don’t have any respect for us.”

“So, the cycle continues.” Bow sighed. He kicked off from the locker, sliding his hands into the pockets of his baseball jacket. “Why don’t you think about it? Think about what you’re doing whilst your mates make all those comments.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

The eyebrow just raised again. He didn’t even say anything else as he headed down the corridor – passing her on his way to the nurse’s office and leaving Adora staring after him.

What was any of that supposed to mean? What was with that smug look and sad shake of the head. Like she was a stupid child.

She was getting tired of people thinking that she was stupid and vain and childish. Like she was missing out on some big thing that she wasn’t seeing. How was she meant to see it if no one was going to tell her what is was?

Just why had everyone chosen her to hate? She wasn’t the one tripping people up in halls. She hated those kids, sure, but she wasn’t about to act on it.

Or did she hate them? She didn’t think she did – she didn’t think she cared enough to hate them. They were just there – the weird student council. Because Glimmer had decided to cut her hair and die it a pinky-lavender and it only looked cool for a week or two before it was faded and grimy. Because she didn’t fit in with everyone else. She didn’t care what she did to her hair. Good on her for not having her mother murder her for doing it.

So, she didn’t understand why it was her – the one who didn’t have a problem with it – that was getting all the blame pegged onto her. She didn’t understand any of it.

And she really couldn’t bring herself to care.

*

Adora was bad at not caring. Ever since the fight outside the nurse’s office and the cryptic conversation after, it had been playing on her mind. She wasn’t doing anything.

She was just standing by whilst Catra did what she wanted.

But what was she supposed to do? She wasn’t about to tell Catra to stop anything. She wasn’t about to risk the wrath of Catra.

And did it really matter? Why was it up to her to solve Glimmer’s problems.

It still bothered her, though. That was her friend and she chose to do that with her time. All her friends did, like some hideous mob mentality.

Was this the peer pressure that she had been warned about her entire life?

The thoughts had niggled in her mind so much that she had passed the post-practice burger run. How could she eat Wendy’s when she was worrying about whether or not she was a good person? She had just shrugged and said that she needed to study.

“Study? What for?” Lonnie had wrinkled her nose.

“We’ve almost caught up to Adora’s pre-reading in class, so she has to put the time in.” Catra had rolled her eyes. “Go on – go study, golden girl.”

She had just smiled gamely. She hated being called that by other people. That was something between her and her foster mother – being golden. Being perfect. It felt like Catra was looking into something private.

Then she had climbed into her car – her perfect PT Cruiser – and just drove. She wasn’t going to study – not tonight. But she wasn’t ready to head home – that would raise more questions. ‘Why aren’t you out with the team?’ ‘Why aren’t you watching Catra?’

Catra could watch herself tonight, Adora decided. She was an adult as much as her.

She spotted a flicker of lavender in the distance and frowned. The streetlights flooded the pavement with white light, illuminating the figure like a spotlight, impossible to miss.

Adora couldn’t believe it. She slowed as she approached the figure.

Seriously? She wanted to scream. Was the universe just against her? She hit a girl in a head with a dodgeball and suddenly she was driving down the same street as her. She saw enough of her in the corridors, flinching under her glares.

She carried on, past Glimmer.

But then she glanced in the wing mirror. And got a glimpse of red eyes and damp cheeks. She slowed again, so that she was almost crawling along the road. Yes – it was Glimmer – with her hair curled in a cloud around her head that was starting to fall flat. Glimmer with her arms tightly across her chest and her phone clasped tightly in her hand and the strap of her dress falling down her shoulder. A nice dress – with a glittery top and a chiffon skirt.

Adora hated herself for doing it, but she stopped the car. It was that same clench of ‘I should do this,’ from earlier. The same rarely indulged part of herself that wanted to do something good. Be the bigger person. That was what perfect girls did.

So, she rolled down the window, pushing back hair that had escaped from her tight ponytail back before she tried to smile heroically.

“You okay?”

Glimmer stopped. Just stopped in the middle of the path, wobbling slightly on heels. She wiped her eyes roughly with the heel of her palm and sniffed. She glared again – that same glare that she always gave Adora.

“I’m fine!”

Adora bit back the ‘you don’t look it’ in her tongue.

“Can I offer you a lift?” she tried instead, because now that she had her head out the window, she could feel the drops of rain. Glimmer’s skirt had tiny, dark spots on it – as if the stars had melted into the chiffon. “It must suck to walk in those heels.”

“Shows that you’ve never worn heels.” Glimmer said. But she still hadn’t moved. She was swaying slightly, even standing still.

Adora bit her lip. She didn’t want to leave a girl crying on the pavement. She wanted to be that hero in people’s stories. The good person.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Glimmer started to nod, and then her face crumpled, and she shook her head. She was wiping her cheeks again.

“I’ll take that lift,” she said, her voice wobbly and weak.

Adora nodded and gestured to the passenger side. She didn’t know what to say. She had no idea what to say to this girl in tears. This girl who hated her, who was in tears and getting in her car.

Glimmer slid into the passenger seat a moment later, her head down and her hands clutching her purse. Adora still didn’t say anything, just eased the car back into motion.

It was a good minute before she thought to ask, “where am I taking you?”

Glimmer murmured an address and Adora’s stomach dropped. They had been driving in the wrong direction. She tried to u-turn as discreetly as she could, hoping that Glimmer wouldn’t notice. She wasn’t good at u-turns.

But she didn’t even look up. She had just been staring at her lap, her hands methodically coming up to wipe her face. Her shoulders were shaking. Bare shoulders, Adora realised – and wondered why that seemed significant to her.

She lived on the other side of town – because of course she did. That was all Adora wanted today – a long, awkward drive.

“So,” she stretched the word out. “How – how’s band?”

“Do you really want to know or are you just asking?”

“I’m asking because I didn’t think you’d want to talk about why you’re walking down a road sobbing your heart out and whilst looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Beautiful.” Adora wasn’t paying attention to what her mouth was saying. She was busy getting onto a roundabout and counting the exits. It was only when they were on a straight road again that her head caught up to her mouth. What did it matter? She asked herself. It was true – she had to imagine back the mascara and half of Glimmer’s eyeliner wings, but she looked beautiful. Just because she was annoying, it didn’t mean she didn’t look nice.

“What, did Catra ask you to say that?” Glimmer’s voice still sounded like it was breaking on every syllable and when Adora glanced across at her, she had that small, self-depreciating smile.

“No – no, I – what do you have against Catra, anyway?”

“What does she have against me?”

“Shit, Glimmer, because you’re always preaching about one thing or another and you think we’re all sacks of shit for not caring that the school play can’t afford to buy a man-eating plant prop.”

“Well, you are all sacks of shit for not caring about Audrey Jr,” Glimmer said. But it wasn’t a snap – it was a tease. The same teasing tone that Bow had used. Glimmer sniffed. “You – I didn’t think you even knew my name.”

“Oh, everyone knows your name.” Adora said. She tried to say it lightly, like it wasn’t a bad thing.

“Yours too. Yours for good reason.” Glimmer wasn’t looking at her, she was staring out the window. “Star quarterback, grade-A student, the school’s golden girl.”

She really wished people would stop saying that. It flicked her anger back on.

“Don’t sound too jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Glimmer snapped. “I have good friends – and that’s more important than being able to run well.”

“I have good friends too.”

“Yeah? Then why are you driving home alone?”

“They all wanted to go on a burger run. I wasn’t hungry.” Adora took her frustration out on the indicator.

“You’re always eating like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Well. Not tonight.” Adora gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to have an argument with a girl who had been in tears two minutes earlier.

The silence returned. Nice and awkward, Adora thought. She did have good friends – friends that she could always call when she needed them. Not that she would – if there was a problem, she’d deal with it herself. But she knew Lonnie would come running if she asked.

She was sure.

“So, why were you out on the streets by yourself at this time of night?” she asked – because she felt like it was her turn to get under Glimmer’s skin. Because if she had such great friends, why was she left to walk home alone in tears?

Because it wasn’t even really that late. It wasn’t even ten o’clock.

She heard Glimmer’s shaky breath in. Almost felt her preparing her answer.

“There was a party – I wanted to leave early,” she said.

“Because there was alcohol? They were peer-pressuring you to drink?” It was an unnecessary dig, but Adora felt entitled to it after all the unnecessary digs last week.

“Of course there was alcohol – and I do drink, so you can shut up.” Glimmer took another breath. Like it was an effort. “No, it was Bow. There was a guy that he’s head over heels for there and he was finally starting to pay attention to him – but he was giving me a lift home. I didn’t want to get in the way. I just – said that I’d walk home.”

“Bow – Bow’s gay?” That was the detail that Adora’s brain had zoomed in on. It probably made her seem like a dick, but that had been what made her breath catch. It was what had made her glance up from squinting at road signs and over at Glimmer.

She was watching Adora with a strange expression on her face, her arms still folded over each other like she was protecting herself. Like Adora was going to jump her right then and there.

“You didn’t know?” she asked.

“No.” Adora said, honestly. She didn’t know. She didn’t know that she wasn’t the only one. She didn’t know that anyone had come out at their high school. She didn’t know that anyone could – that anyone had the balls to do it.

Because she had known for a while. Of course she had figured it out. And of course she wasn’t about to tell anyone. She didn’t think ‘gay’ fitted in with her foster mother’s idea of the perfect daughter. Much too different. Much too many emotions to deal with.

She had to continue – to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.

“So – is that why – you were…?” She couldn’t even focus on making a full sentence.

“Crying?”

“Mm,” she didn’t want it to seem like a big deal. But it seemed like a big deal – girls like Glimmer didn’t seem to cry. Glimmer was tough and angry and the fact that she had a fondness for purple and dresses and nail polish didn’t mean she didn’t have a bite on her.

“It wasn’t – I don’t like him, or anything like that-“ Glimmer said. “It was – it’s stupid. I was just scared and all of a sudden I started crying. Childish, I know.”

“It’s not,” Adora said. That had been the only knee-jerk response she had given her. She didn’t know if it was childish. She didn’t cry because she was scared – Adora cried because she was stressed. She had nothing to be scared about. She couldn’t imagine having anything to be scared about. “Scared?”

“It’s dark and it’s cold and-“

“You want to go home?”

Glimmer paused. “Was that a theatre reference?”

Adora bit her lip so that the smile threatening to flicker onto her face couldn’t escape. She hadn’t really meant to say it – it had been something that she’d swallow down when she was with Catra. That wasn’t Adora – it wasn’t the team’s image of her.

But again, she felt safe saying it now. Glimmer was hardly going to share this story with everyone. Bow, maybe, but that was it. And he didn’t think either of them would care that she’d seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Instead, she turned again. Half-blindly, because she didn’t want this car ride to end before she had some answers.

“I cut you off.”

Another pause. Longer this time, and Adora could feel eyes searching her face.

“Yeah – it’s dark and it’s late and my phone’s almost dead. I was scared using maps was going to kill it even more, but I wasn’t sure of the way and – well, I was heading in the wrong direction anyway, so it’s a good thing you came along when you did.”

“My pleasure.”

“I’m not – you’re still insufferable, you just have good timing.” Glimmer said and Adora laughed. Actually laughed – a short, loud bark that seemed completely out of place. “I freaked myself out – thinking about rapists and murderers and this one horror story I read about streetlamps.”

“Oh, the grinning man?”

“That’s the one.”

“Catra told me about it when I was twelve. There’s a streetlight outside my window and I kept my blinds closed for weeks.” Why was she saying that? It was supposed to be a secret. She hadn’t even told Catra how much it had scared her.

“So you do have a weakness.”

“I wouldn’t call it a weakness,” Adora frowned at the road, but for some reason she was smiling. “Just a – healthy awareness of urban legends.”

Glimmer made a sound that could have been a laugh. A half-laugh, half-sob. But by the time Adora glanced at her, the smile had already gone. She was left with a feeling like whiplash. That was banter. They were having banter.

When had that happened?

“Like I said, it was just stupid. I was just scared,” Glimmer said. She smoothed out her skirts. “I – was scared that this guy might take over Bow’s life. That he didn’t even care that I was walking home alone.”

“Bow doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”

“He’s not. I said – I’m being stupid.”

They were getting close now, Adora realised. And strangely, she felt a little sad at that. She didn’t want to get to Glimmer’s house. Of course she did – she didn’t want to sit her with this girl.

But this girl hadn’t made a jibe for the whole car ride. She had been honest. And Adora had been honest. If she was in a teen movie, she’d say it was a bonding moment.

She didn’t want to have a bonding moment. She didn’t want to think about the teen movie she may or may not be trapped in.

What kind of movie would that be anyway?

And what did that make Glimmer? The best friend? She had a best friend. She didn’t need another one and she didn’t want to imagine replacing her with anyone. The love interest?

She pushed the idea way as quickly and quietly as it had come to her. No. Just no. There wasn’t exactly a list of reasons – it was just ‘no.’

Not gay – that was a good one.

Glimmer was not gay. And Adora was in no rush to leave the closet. It was safe in the closet. Things didn’t change in the closet.

She had been silent too long, she knew, and she was pulling into the road Glimmer lived on. Etheria Road. So, the car slowed to a halt.

“Well, I – I hope your fear is unfounded. I hope it – works out.” She said.

“Do you really care, or are you just saying that?”

She turned then, frowning slightly, because this had been a bonding moment and they had gotten nowhere.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Adora said.

Glimmer stared at her for a moment. Her eyes were smudged with black like a raccoons and the curls had started to fall out of place, but she looked unreal for a moment. Ethereal came to Adora’s head and she wasn’t sure why. She was just a girl sat in her car. Just a girl in a party dress who had been crying.

But it seemed like she was looking at Adora – really looking at her, for the first time.

“Thanks.” Glimmer’s voice was quiet – breathless.

“And if-“ Adora’s hands clenched on the wheel. She cleared her throat, as if it would clear her mind. “If that grinning man gives you any trouble – you just – send him my way. I kick things good, apparently.”

“Finally, a good use for it,” Glimmer said. She was opening the door of the car, stepping tenderly out into the street.

Adora laughed again – the same too-brief, too-loud laugh. That should have made her angry. It should have made her defensive. But she was starting to understand the teasing. Maybe she was even starting to like it.

She threw her head back against the seat, trying to figure out the feeling going through her chest. It made her body feel light but her chest heavy, like her heart had been replaced with a stone. She was exhilarated and yet she was disappointed.

Adora stayed for a moment, making sure that Glimmer got into her house. Just as she knocked on the door, Adora realised. There was a sprinkle of purple glitter in the car, stuck to the seat.

Glitter from the dress.

She rolled down the window without thinking about it, leaning her elbow on the side so she could stick her head out, “Your stupid dress got glitter all over my seats!”

The door was already opening, and she knew Glimmer’s mother had heard her. She was looking at her now, but Adora wanted to focus on Glimmer’s face. She had turned to look at her, her mouth in a small ‘o,’ like there was something unexpected about this. Hell, it was all unexpected.

And the most unexpected was Glimmer blowing a kiss to her.

“Something to remember me by!”

It was the same sarcastic tone. Even the kiss was sarcastic, Adora could admit.

But that didn’t dislodge the strange feeling in her chest from it. It didn’t dislodge the fact that Glimmer had smiled. A smile that lit up those lavender eyes. A smile that made Adora half-believe she was in that teen movie.

And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

2

Catra noticed the glitter. Because it was Catra and her eyes lived up to her name.

“The fuck is this?” she pointed to it, before she got in.

Adora looked at it. Hopefully her face looked confused and not reliving a strange but enjoyable car ride to the nice side of the neighbourhood. Where the houses had flowers in the window boxes instead of broken glass. Where they had lattices of wood and tiny balconies wrapped around upstairs window.

The glitter had been sat there for three days – since Friday night. It was Monday morning and she hadn’t had the heart to clean it up. Normally Adora took care of her car – her car was her baby and she washed it every week, inside and out. But the glitter – she had decided the glitter could stay.

She shrugged, “Fuck knows.”

At least it made Catra shrug and sit down, slamming the door with force enough to make Adora wince. She was anal about her Cruiser. It had been her sixteenth birthday present. The perfect present for the perfect girl, as Beatrix had said. She wanted to take care of it.

To keep it perfect, because she wasn’t.

They started off, making the obligatory Starbucks stop on their way in.

“When are you going to learn to drive, Catra?”

“When you stop driving me.”

It was the same conversation they had every other day, but it still made them grin at each other. See, Adora wanted to say – best friend. Best friend banter. Glimmer didn’t hold a candle up to that banter.

Only that banter had left that strange light-heavy feeling in her. That banter she wanted more of – instead of the same thing over and over. She decided to try something out – dip her toe in untrod water.

“Did you know that Bow kid’s gay?”

“Yeah, and?”

“I just – I only found out last week, and – I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure ninety-percent of the student council is gay,” Catra was peering in the overhead mirror, fiddling with the little row of rings that went down the side of her ear. Beatrix had gone mad at each knew addition. It hadn’t stopped her. “Hell, pretty sure ninety-percent of this generation is gay.”

The thought made Adora’s stomach flip. Ninety-percent of the student council? Did that include-

And why was she even thinking about it as a possibility? Hate – Glimmer hated her. That wasn’t going to change because of a car ride.

Why was the idea so appealing anyway? She didn’t care. She was sure that she didn’t care.

Catra was joking, anyway. She had to be.

“C’mon – we’re not.”

There was a pause. Adora glanced at Catra. She had her coffee to her lips and her eyes out the window.

“Yeah,” Catra said after a moment.

“Catra? You – you okay?”

“Oh – hey, look – that Chipotle’s done getting refurbished.”

It was Catra’s way of snubbing her. Of saying ‘we don’t talk about this shit and we’re not about to start.’ Because they didn’t talk about feelings. Not really. Not ever. But Glimmer had. She had shared fears. And though Adora had been completely unsure of what to say – she had managed.

The conversation had dropped. If there had ever been a time for Adora to peek out into a different world, the door had slammed shut. She was trapped, for better or for worse.

School continued like normal. Subjects, lunch, subjects, training. Even if they officially met on Fridays, they would get together most evenings. The Horde had been top of the league for decade and they weren’t about to mess that up. They had to be the best – and if that meant training every day, so be it.

They had to win. Winning was everything. That had been drilled into Adora. If you weren’t winning – if you weren’t the best – what was the point? What was the point of anything less than perfect?

So, everything had been normal – right up until training.

It was stupid – so incredibly stupid, but it had started to spit with rain. The not-quite rain of September, forecasting a miserable fall. The rain had been at fault – because the rain had made Adora think of stars melting onto chiffon skirts. It had made her think of that smile. That stupid smile, because she wasn’t looking where she was running, and her foot had caught on a rock. Not even a rock, a pebble.

A stupid pebble that went skittering off and left Adora sprawled in the mud of the track with a searing pain in her ankle.

She lay there for a moment, waiting for the pain to fade whilst she tried to sit up. Her arms were caked in mud.

Lonnie caught up moments later.

“You good?”

“Fuck,” was all Adora could reply. She had expected it to be a sharp pain and then a fade, but it was still aching in full force. “Fuck, it hurts.”

“Come here.”

Her arm was thrown over Lonnie’s shoulder and she was being hauled to her feet. She kept her foot off the ground. Her legs were just as splattered in mud.

“What’s the problem?” someone yelled from the other end of the pitch.

“Adora’s ankle.”

“Shit – we haven’t even finished warm ups!”

“Get her to sit out for a bit.”

“No, she needs to see the nurse.”

“What? Lonnie, no!”

“First match is next week. It’s better safe than sorry!”

“I’m fine, really.”

“No. No, you’re not.” Lonnie said. Her eyes flashed and her voice was firm.

Adora found herself nodding.

“I’ll help you get to the nurse’s room,” Lonnie continued. She helped her hop back across the grass and into the school building. The ache was starting to ease now, or maybe it was just the effort of hopping all the way back inside, her hand in a death grip on Lonnie’s shoulder.

But she finally made it back to the nurse’s office.

Lonnie helped to ease her into one of the plastic chairs and Adora noticed her arm linger just a second more than it needed to on her back.

“You should get back.”

Lonnie nodded. She took a few steps, then glanced behind her.

“You gunna be okay?”

Adora nodded and forced a smile.

She watched Lonnie walk back down the corridor.

She had lied. She wasn’t sure she was going to be okay. She was worried – worried that her leg wouldn’t heal in time and she’d be sat out for the rest of the season. That was her worst nightmare.

After a moment, Adora took a breath and eased herself around the plastic chair to knock at the door.

This had been where it had started. Where she had said more than a passing comment to Glimmer. The dodgeball incident that had made her life a teen-movie.

“You got me at just the right time – I was ready to head home for the day!”

Adora smiled wanly as she was invited inside. After a few minutes, the tension had gone from her. It wasn’t a break, wasn’t a sprain. It probably wasn’t even a torn ligament. She would most likely be fine if she went home and put some ice on it.

Adora was going to play this season. She was going to win.

So, she gave a real grin and a real ‘thank you,’ as she hobbled out of the nurse’s office. Just bent her ankle the wrong way. But better to go home and be safe than sorry. The thought blinded her – the relief that she was absolutely fine, that everything was going to stay the same –

That she didn’t look where she was going for the second time in an hour.

She stumbled into the poor person who happened to be walking by the nurse’s office. They made her lurch forward, put weight on her sore ankle-

Suddenly she was clinging on for dear life and waiting for the sharp, searing pain to calm down again.

“Ow!”

She knew that voice.

Adora eased her eyes open and her stomach dropped.

Glimmer was frowning at her, a big, black instrument case in her arms.

Adora dropped her grip, then promptly lost her balance on one foot and clattered back into the plastic chair. The nurse gave her a strange look as she headed from her office. But she was done for the day and that made not spending a second longer at the school – and just continued down the hall. And Glimmer was still staring at her as if she was a crazy person.

“Sorry,” Adora said, too late.

“What the hell?”

“I – I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Evidently,” Glimmer hitched the black case back into position.

Seriously? Again? Adora was starting to believe the movie theory – or that she had somehow cursed herself throwing that dodgeball and she was destined to run into Glimmer forevermore.

“What’s wrong with you?” Glimmer continued. But it wasn’t an angry ‘what’s wrong with you?’ She was looking at Adora’s leg. Not looking particularly concerned, but not looking venomously hateful of her either.

“Twisted it,” Adora said. She shrugged. “Not good at seeing today.”

“Oh.” Glimmer turned as if to leave. She looked like she was stuck to the spot. “Lots on your mind?”

It was so out of place that Adora was caught off guard. She said the first thing she could.

“Do you really want to know or are you just asking?”

Glimmer shrugged. They let the silence sit for a moment. Adora couldn’t admit the truth – not to her, but Glimmer wasn’t leaving.

“You alright to get home like that?”

“Ah – um,” Adora hadn’t even thought that far. It wasn’t like she could hang around for Catra to give her a lift. She’d just have to manage. “Yeah – fine.”

“Seriously?” Glimmer raised an eyebrow, that sarcastic smile appearing just at the edge of her mouth. Adora shrugged.

And Glimmer rolled her eyes. All the way up to those long, dark eyelashes. “Come on,” she said, with a heavy sigh. “I just finished up my lesson anyway.”

“You don’t have to-“ Adora spoke quickly.

“No, I had better pay you back. Then we’re even.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t about to pretend she wasn’t grateful. She limped down the corridor beside Glimmer.

“Yeah well,” Glimmer gave another shrug. It was like they were doing shoulder work outs. “You did save my skin.”

“It was the decent thing to do.”

“Oh, my chivalrous knight.” Another eye-roll, but that teasing tone that was starting to make Adora’s heart rise. She didn’t want it to – she wanted to tell it ‘no, not this one. We don’t like this one,’ but it was determined to disobey her. “That was what my mum called you anyway – can you believe it?”

“I guess not.” She stopped in front of her locker, balancing on one leg as she opened it and started pulling her stuff out.

“She thought you were a guy, as well. I guess it was the jacket.” The jacket Adora was pulling on now – a red letterman. All the team wore them. She guessed it was kind of cliché. “And your hair was all pulled back.”

“It gets in the way.” Adora slung her backpack over her shoulder and they started off again.

“Why don’t you cut it?”

“You kidding? My mum’d kill me.”

Glimmer gave her an odd look then. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she understood hyperbole, but then she said.

“It’s your hair.”

Perfect girls didn’t cut their hair short. That would be to different – too daring.

“Still,” was all she could say.

“My glitter and Glimmer!”

She hadn’t even noticed Bow coming down the hallway. He stopped, blinked at her.

“And her new beau,” he added.

“No, you’re Bow,” Adora said, before she could stop herself.

Bow grinned.

“I wish I’d never told you,” Glimmer scowled. At least it wasn’t just Adora she scowled at, then.

“Oh, come on, it’s funny.” Bow was fiddling with his own locker. He had a smaller instrument case over his shoulder.

“It’s hilarious that my mum thinks bisexual means bi-curious and ‘not really,’” Glimmer rolled her eyes. She was doing it a lot and they were just as mesmerizing as ever.

Oh.

Well that ruined Adora’s biggest reason for not thinking about it. At least she still had the ‘hate’ part.

Bow scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m just going through a tomboy phase.”

They both laughed. Adora didn’t get it. She just stood there, wishing she could shift her weight.

“Adora’s coming with us. She hurt her leg.”

“And you’ve come to her rescue.” Bow always seemed to be smiling. Adora hated people like that. At least, she thought she hated people like that. Now everything seemed to be changing.

“I call shotgun,” she said. Just for something to say as all three of them started back down the hallway.

“Not fair!”

“Is to,” Glimmer said. It almost gave Adora a heart attack – Glimmer? On her side? “She’s disabled and I’ll drop her off first.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“Bow practically lives with me – and even if he was going home tonight, he could walk the five minutes. You can get in the front.”

Bow groaned again but winked at Adora. She wasn’t sure what to do back and ended up settling for an awkward smile.

Glimmer’s car was purple. Of course, it was. A purple little beetle. It suited her.

Bow clambered in the back and Adora awkwardly shuffled into the front seat. There was a collection of take out boxes and random props cluttering up the car. She kicked a feather boa away from her legs and into an empty MacDonald’s box. This car was messy – and there was mud splattered all over the bottom half of it.

And yet, she wasn’t completely disgusted by all of it.

“You’re going to get mud all over the seat,” Glimmer said, as she climbed into the driver’s side. There was a huge pom-pom on her car-keys that were buffeted by the aircon.

“Something to remember me by,” Adora said.

Glimmer glanced up at her. And smiled. Then the car was lurching out of the parking lot. It was the kind of car that moved in lurches – or maybe that was just Glimmer’s driving. The silence didn’t last long. Maybe it would have, because Adora had no clue what to say – but there was Bow in the car. He leant between the seats to talk.

“Isn’t this nice, guys? Two mortal enemies and a best friend, all in a car together.”

“Mortal enemies?” Adora echoed.

“Where do you live?” Glimmer asked over Bow. Adora gave her address over hesitantly. She wasn’t sure why – but she didn’t want the two of them to know she lived in the area of town not-so-lovingly dubbed ‘the fright zone.’

“Sure – don’t you hate each other’s guts.”

“I don’t hate Adora’s guts, I hate Catra’s guts,” Glimmer said simply. “Her and the rest of the team.”

“Gee, thanks.” But a thrill had run through Adora.

“Just last week you went on a tirade about perfect Adora with her perfect grades and perfect legs. I remember. I felt like Lucius Malfoy listening to his son.”

Perfect legs? That was the only part Adora concentrated on – she didn’t even follow the reference.

“Yeah, well-“ Glimmer paused. She looked warm – her face was flushed. “A lot can happen in a week.”

“Knight in shining armour,” Bow stage-whispered to Adora.

“Bow, stop.” They were stopped at the lights and Glimmer turned to Adora, those lavender eyes big and apologetic. “If he makes you uncomfortable, just say.”

“Why would the insinuation of being gay make someone uncomfortable?” Bow asked. “Are you being homophobic, Glim?”

Glitter groaned and rolled her eyes. Adora found herself laughing. She liked this – this three-way banter. Not as much as the two-way, but – it felt good. Better than the banter the team had. That was all just mean jokes and sarcasm.

“No, it’s fine – I’m actually-“ Adora stopped herself just in time. Caught the word as it threatened to escape. No – she couldn’t – that was still the unsayable. “Fine.”

They were both looking at her. She swallowed and looked out of the window instead. Glimmer changed the subject of conversation. Started talking about a show that she’d been watching on Netflix – one that was making her procrastinate too much. Bow joined in, enthusiastically.

At some point they must have noticed that Adora hadn’t said anything in a while.

“What have you been watching?” Bow asked.

There was silence – too much expectant silence in the car.

“Oh, I don’t,” Adora said. Then realised how weird that sounded and clarified. “I don’t have Netflix. I don’t really watch T.V that much either – I just, don’t have time.”

It wasn’t productive. Her time could be spent so much more productively. T.V was Catra’s thing – and it was Catra who had to hear how bad the T.V was for her brain.

“All work and no play,” Bow commented.

Adora shrugged. She could still feel Glimmer looking at her. She wanted to snap at her to keep her eyes on the road. To mind her own business. So Adora didn’t watch T.V. What was the big deal?

The big deal, she found out, was that she was cut out of the loop. That Bow and Glimmer kept talking about this and that and she had nothing to add.

It was a relief when she was dropped off at her house. She smiled and said, “thanks,” and hobbled up the drive like she didn’t notice the cigarette butts outside the door. Like she didn’t see that her house was falling down,and the paint was peeling and the next-door neighbours had a broken window they still hadn’t fixed.

Like she didn’t wish that she was going back with Glimmer to watch Netflix.

*

Adora didn’t understand why it was playing on her mind so much. Glimmer. Glimmer being bisexual. Glimmer not hating her. She didn’t even know if she liked her. Hadn’t she thought just last week she was annoying?

But was it annoying? To care about things? Was it annoying to have a good best friend and a nice house? Was it annoying to watch T.V but still be top of the class? Was it annoying to be happy?

Because Glimmer seemed happy. And that seemed foreign. Adora assumed that everyone was stressed and just finding a way to keep their head above the water.

Happy? What was that?

It wasn’t like she could act on it anyway. The thought had gone through her head time and time again during the game. As she pumped her legs across the field and felt the mud splatter her and adrenaline coursing through every part of her. She couldn’t act on it.  The team wouldn’t like it – especially not if she was gay and with Glimmer.

Not to mention her foster mother.

No, there was no way. She repeated it to herself over and over again. But she also kept seeing the small smile Glimmer gave her in the hallways now. The snatches of conversation she would have if they were alone in the corridor. Something had changed. Something odd had happened. They weren’t friends, exactly, but-

Glimmer didn’t hate her.

And Glimmer was bisexual.

And there was no way that Adora could ever act on that.

They won the game. Of course, they did – because that was what the Horde did. They won.

Adora was grinning as she was pulling off a sweaty helmet. Everyone was hugging and cheering and clapping each other on the back but she slipped out of it. She was starting to do that. To inch away when Connie was bitching about someone. To tell Catra ‘that’s enough’ when she went too far. Bow had been right – she had been doing nothing. And that was just as bad as taking part.

It was a stupid lesson – a lesson they taught to kids – but she had learnt it. It had taken too long – but she got it now.

And she didn’t like it. She wasn’t sure she liked them, even though they were her friends.

So she stood to the side and gulped down a bottle of water, grinning whenever they glanced over to her. She pushed her hair out of her face, taking a breath and getting ready to leave. To grab her bags and get ready for a night of sitting in Arby’s verbally rerunning the game.

But Adora had developed a habit of not seeing. Of being too caught up in the cycle of ‘she’s bi/but I can’t act on it,’ to see the person right in front of her.

Suddenly she was being hugged and fluffy, short, purple hair was in her face.

It only lasted a moment, before Glimmer was pulling away and pushing her fringe out of her eyes. Her hair stuck up like wings either side of her face, which was flushed pink. She crossed her arms – like she was trying to cover up.

“Sorry – I just-“ Glimmer said. “I – that was cool. What you did out there. I only have a vague understanding of football, but that was – cool.”

“Oh.” It was all Adora could say. She felt like her brain had short-circuited. Like someone had turned off something important. “Thanks.”

Here was Glimmer. Hugging her. Congratulating her. Was this because of a few car rides? Had things really changed that much in a week? A lot could happen in a week. Glimmer had said that. It seemed she had meant it.

She smiled at Adora, looking self-conscious. She still had a large, gold instrument in one hand. Adora thought it was a trombone, but the brass section confused her. The red marching band uniform clashed with her pink hair – overshadowed those lavender eyes.  What was she doing here? Hugging a sweaty Adora like they were friends – something had changed.

A knight in shining armour, Bow had said. Maybe he had been right.

“So, I guess everyone goes out to celebrate now, huh?” Glimmer said.

“Yeah,” Adora said. “Arby’s.”

Was that an invitation? Was she hoping Glimmer would say yes? She wasn’t sure.

“Right,” Glimmer nodded. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Lavender coloured earrings – Adora noticed. Stars. “But you’re not over there?”

“I’m not. I don’t – I don’t know if I like my team that much.”

“I don’t know if I like the band that much,” Glimmer said.

Because now that Adora looked, they were all packing up. Their job was done, she supposed. No one was celebrating them.

“Wanna celebrate together?” she was asking. She was sure she only did because of the adrenaline. Because it was a bad idea, but it seemed like a good one for just a moment.

Glimmer paused, her eyes searching Adora's.

“Why not?” she asked, with that small smile of hers.

“Great.” Adora just stood there for a moment, still breathing heavily. Then she realised she was still swathed up in padding and added, “give me ten minutes to get changed.”

She ran to the school, because she had just finished the game it was sometimes hard to get out of the habit of running. That, and she didn’t want the others to see. Adora was true to her word, basically throwing off her clothes to throw skinny jeans and a t-shirt back on before anyone else could get back and catch her. At the last moment, she resprayed deodorant and sent a quick text to Catra with hands that were still shaking from adrenaline and pre-game nerves.

It was only when Adora was on her way out of the changing rooms that she realised that she needed a shower. That she probably stunk, and her hair was sweaty and messy – but it was just Glimmer. She wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like she liked Adora.

She was waiting at Adora’s car, leaning against it like this was completely normal and scrolling through her phone. When Adora was closer, she looked up and smiled.

“I thought we should take yours. Mine’s still caked in mud.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Are you really?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Glimmer just gave her a look, like she didn’t believe her. Then she shrugged and opened up the passenger side and slid in. Adora followed.

“Anywhere but Arby’s.” She said, putting the car into gear and pulling out of the car park. She could see the team slowly making their way over to the changing rooms, all jumping onto each other. Their arms in the air – she could almost hear the celebrations from here.

“You don’t want your cool friends to know you’re going out with a band geek?” Glimmer asked. Going out. Was that just a poor choice of words?

“Do you want my cool friends to know?”

“Alright, you win.”

Adora laughed and for once if didn’t sound like it was forced. It didn’t sound awkward.

“Fries and shakes?”

“Fries and shakes.”

Twenty minutes later they were pulling into the Steak n’ Shake on the other side of town. It felt surreal – it wasn’t particularly empty or particularly full, but normally the celebrations after the game were loud and crazy. It was always having to be funny and witty and on all the time. More of a performance than a celebration.

Adora didn’t feel like that as she walked inside with Glimmer – Glimmer who was still in her band costume and rocking it. It felt normal – like she could be herself.

Be herself with the girl who hated her guts. The girl who hated her guts who had agreed to go with her tonight. They got a window booth and Adora nursed a salted caramel milkshake between her hands and a portion of fries in front of her. Of course, Glimmer had chosen strawberry milkshake, because of course she did – because it was pink, and pink was close to purple.

“I love cheesey fries, but cheeesy fries always taste better when you’re drunk, right?” Glimmer said. Like this was completely normal. Like they were just two friends hanging out.

“I wouldn’t know.” Adora said. There was a strange twist in her stomach.

“You’ve never had fries drunk?”

“I’ve never been drunk.” Adora said. She pointed a fry at Glimmer. “And you shouldn’t either – that’s illegal.”

Glimmer blew her cheeks out, like that was a stupid thing to say.

“So?” she shrugged.

Perfect girls don’t drink.

But Glimmer wasn’t bad. Glimmer was happy and seemed a lot more knowledgeable than Adora would ever be.

“You should come round to Bow’s – he has the basement. We could all chill with a couple of beers.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Adora said. “My mum’d kill me if she found out.”

“Well you wouldn’t tell her that’s what you were doing. You’d lie.”

“I couldn’t lie to my mum!”

“I lie to my mum all the time,” Glimmer said, she paused to take a mouthful of fries. “It’s a kindness – what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, right?”

Adora paused. “Maybe.”

It became awkward. Adora could feel something against her foot. She assumed it was the table leg but she wondered if it was Glimmer’s foot. If she had meant to do that. She must have realised something was wrong, because she changed the subject slightly.

“So the football team doesn’t go on massive booze-ups?”

“Unless I’m not invited.”

“And you’d always be invited?”

“Well,” Adora shrugged and smiled. “I am the star player.”

Glimmer snorted. Adora laughed. She found that she was enjoying this – coming back to the same jokes. The same teasing and smiles and laughs. Glimmer’s laugh. She wanted to hear Glimmer’s laugh more. She wanted to see Glimmer’s smile more – because now she had seen her smile. Genuinely smile.

It seemed perfect. The perfect evening, in a weird way. Maybe because it was such a change of pace, but probably because it was so easy. Talking to Glimmer was so easy and fun and it made her grin. It probably had something to do with that sinking and rising feeling that Adora got when she dropped Glimmer back at her house. It definitely had something to do with the kiss that Glimmer had blown her from her front door before she disappeared inside.

Adora was happy. She felt –

Happy.

So, this was happy. She liked happy.