#the guy probably thinks his genius is worth preserving

[gratuiciel]

Feel like there was potential for Gortash to upload his own mind inside a robot, or at least a copy of it just in case things went south. Dude has been experimenting with brains AND robots, surely he could have come up with something.

[scabopolis]

Ummm because my brain could never come up with something as genius as yours, I will ask—nay, BEG—for more LoVe Vampire AU from Day 1 AU week.

Title: do not engage (part two of this little ficlet) Rating: PG-13 (some swears…because girl is still stressed) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars, Additional Tags: Secret identity, vaguely vampire hunter related things, filed under: relationship obstacles, sharing of bagels, vampire Logan is probably far too schmoopy, tried to write angst but whooops I think it's fluff? Word Count: 1,800

For you, dear, @ayy-ohh? Anything. This one really got me stuck because...like...world building? What is that? And would vampires eat bagels? And why DOES Logan have a cell in his basement? So many questions. Anyway! Here it is! *** That she can’t remember ever seeing Logan Echolls in the daylight should have been Veronica’s first clue.

It’s just, given the nocturnal demands of her profession and thus her morning grumpiness, it was easy to miss. Easy to be grateful for. Easy to be relieved that Logan wasn’t like her college boyfriend—the kind of guy who insisted they wake up at 6:00 AM to go running and felt a day spent inside with the shades drawn was a day wasted.

There were, of course, other clues she missed.

Weirdly cryptic statements and obfuscations. (Given she was also prone to said crypticism, she didn’t press for fear he’d do the same.) His reticence towards beach days. (It seemed logical! Who doesn’t hate dodging tourists?) The weird way he’d linger at doorways of unfamiliar houses. (Again, given her own antipathy to socializing, his hesitation was something she understood.)

In retrospect, given that not pressing Logan on his vague answers landed her here—in a weird cell gnawing at the ropes her ex-boyfriend tied tightly around her wrists—she supposes she should have tried harder. She hears Logan’s footsteps on the stairs into the basement but doesn’t stop her attempt to undo the knots.

“I hope you have a good dental plan,” Logan says. She rolls her eyes and continues to work at the strands with her teeth. “Is there even a vampire hunter’s union? Might be something worth looking into. Though, given the general mistrust the position requires, electing a president might prove tricky.”

“God, staking you would have at least gotten you to shut up.”

“But then there’s the crushing guilt.”

“I would have managed.”

Do not engage. In the 36-ish hours she’s been in this cell, that’s been her motto. The secret to coping with the fact that your boyfriend is a vampire and that you and your dad are vampire hunters is to remain detached and cold.

Except it hasn’t been easy. Because her wrists hurt, she smells bad, and oh yeah, apparently she’s not as out of love with the bloodthirsty monster wearing the hell out of a henley and holding a bag of takeout as she thought.

“I got bagels,” he says.

As soon as he says it, the scent of cinnamon raisin wafts from the bag. He doesn’t wait for her to stand; simply slips the paper bag containing her bagel through the bars and slides it to her. Much like he’s done for their previous shared meals, he sits on the ground a safe distance from her and settles into eating his own.

She tears the paper bag and sees that not only has Logan brought her a bagel, he’s also brought her some sort of sandwich and a chocolate chip cookie. God. What an asshole.

What is his endgame here? If he wanted to kill her, he would have done it by now. It’s only a matter of time until her dad begins to question whatever story Logan texted him from her phone. Her dad will show up and he will have questions. What will Logan say then?

“What will I say to who?” Logan asks.

Shit. Detachment is also easier when inside thoughts remain inside thoughts. “No one.”

“If you’re talking about your dad, he’s out of town for the rest of the week.”

She concentrates on the pattern of the cinnamon swirl laced throughout her breakfast. “What do you mean?”

“According to the text he sent you last night, he had to go to Vegas. Vampire gambling ring of some sort?”

“You’re lying.”

“Takes a liar to know a liar.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and takes a large bite of her bagel, surveying the interior of her holding cell. And yes, fine, she technically has a policy of not engaging with the pointy fanged one, but she has questions.

“What is the point of having a cell in your basement? Is it for weird sex stuff? Or weird vampire stuff?”

“Who says those two things are mutually exclusive?”

She rolls her eyes. “Spare me, please. I’m eating.”

“I’ll tell you but you won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“My friend, Mac?” He extends his legs out in front of him. “Once a month, this is her guest suite.”

Veronica frowns. “For weird sex stuff?”

He raises an eyebrow in amusement which, fair, she should probably stop using the phrase weird sex stuff.

Wait. Is he saying—?

“Logan,” she says carefully, “is Mac a werewolf?” He nods, and Veronica’s bagel drops to the floor. “Could you be more of a vampiric cliche? Honestly! Does a zombie do your taxes? Does a ghoul trim your hedges?”

“I trim my own hedges, thank you very much.”

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or it might be the remaining vestiges of adrenaline leaving her body, but Veronica laughs. Just a little bit. At best it’s a chuckle. Still, it’s enough to make Logan smile in that way he sometimes does—like he can’t believe his luck that he even gets to be in the same room as Veronica. It makes something feel heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. Do not engage.

“You really didn’t know?” she asks.

Logan’s answer with a slow nod. “I didn’t know.”

“Then how—?”

“It wasn’t an ambush, Veronica.” He pinches off a small piece of his bagel. (Sourdough, she guesses. Probably with jalapeno cream cheese because the man added jalapenos to everything.) She watches as Logan rolls the bread between his fingers. “The date was real but one of Dick’s friends recognized you somehow.”

“You were the one who threw me into a tree.”

“Yeah, and as far as they know, you’re dead. As far as they know, I was so enraged a vampire hunter tricked me that I took you home to finish you off.”

“Which means if you let me go—”

“They’ll know I lied.” He shrugs. “Either they kill me or your dad does. This way you’re safe.”

“Logan—”

“Sorry,” he says. “You called dibs on the killing?”

“Poor little vamp with a death wish.” She doesn’t mean for it to sound so fond. What is wrong with her?

The corner of his mouth twitches with a fleeting smile. There’s a ticking clock on their time together and now they both know it.

“I’ve never seen a vampire eat as much food as you,” she says.

He sets his bagel aside. “Dine with a lot of vampires?”

“Enough to know you eating that bagel is like me eating a bag of sour gummies.”

“Meaning?”

“You might like the taste of a lightly toasted sesame bagel, but an hour later you need to puncture the carotid artery of a single mother to really satisfy yourself.”

“You know sesame seeds get caught in my teeth. And single mothers come with too much guilt.”

“Hedge fund managers?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Veronica has questions, of course she does. More questions than she can properly express—wonders how old he is, who turned him, who gets him blood and how, why he’s friends with Dick Casablancas, if Logan is safe with Dick as a friend—but she doesn’t ask any of those. Because he asks the most important question first.

“What are we going to do, Veronica?”

She stands up, brushes cinnamon raisin crumbs off of her pants. (She catches a whiff of her unshowered self and cringes. So much for their farewell existing as a perfectly preserved memory in the mind of her undead ex-boyfriend.) “There’s no we, Logan. There can’t be.”

He can’t let her go, he can’t keep her locked up, and she can’t stay.

Logan pushes himself up off the ground and comes to meet her at the bars to the cell. “Yeah.”

“First, you’re going to let me out of here.” She wraps her hands around the bars. Logan does just like she’d hoped and does the same, his pinkies barely grazing her knuckles. “And then I never want to see you ever again.”

“That’s what you want?”

God. What a fucking idiot. Of course that isn’t what she wants. What she wants is to go back two days. To return to that night when Logan made pancakes for dinner, and they got drunk on rum and cokes, and then he kissed down her spine as they lay in bed.

She nods anyway. Presses her head against the bars.

“Fine.” Veronica squeezes her eyes shut. “If you ever need anything?” She nods again and she feels the gentle touch of Logan’s lips to her forehead. How is he always so warm? It never made sense.

“I won’t.”

And then, much to her surprise, he walks away. Without letting her out.

She opens her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he says, a portrait of portrait insouciance once more. “You didn’t expect me to let you go now did you? What if this show of emotion is a long con? I could wake up to find you standing over my body poised to pull back my black out shades.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Nighty night, Veronica.”

Logan doesn’t return to the basement and eventually she falls into a fitful sleep, waking up sometime before the sun rises. She definitely needs to pee and she’s so sick of the ‘toilet’ in her cell. Logan should still be awake. Maybe if she yells really—

Finishing that thought proves to be unnecessary because as soon as Veronica’s eyes adjust to the dim light, she notices the door to her cell is ajar. She’s barely thinking as she jumps from the bed and races up the stairs.

“Logan!” she calls out.

Her first stop is the kitchen, where she maneuvers a knife in between the strands of the ropes around her wrists and works to free herself. Her cell phone is waiting for her on the wireless charger Logan keeps in the kitchen. No messages from her dad, but she sends one to check in. She rubs at the tender skin on her wrists as she searches each room of Logan’s house.

As far as she can tell, there isn’t much missing. Some of his toiletries are gone (her toothbrush is still beside the sink) and she thinks maybe some of his clothes too. His motorcycle is still in the garage but the BMW is gone.

So. That’s it? He’s just gone? What about his house? There’s a housing crisis in southern California and this asshole thinks it’s acceptable to simply abandon a perfectly good home? He didn’t even leave a note.

It’s really the irresponsibility that—

Her call rings through to his voicemail. Rolls her eyes at the Dylan Thomas quote that greets her. That’s new.

“If you think I’m watering your plants for you while you’re gone, you are completely delusional.”

He responds while she’s in the shower. (What? She’s really supposed to put up with shitty water pressure at her place when he has a rain shower and heated bathroom tiles?)

Miss me already?

She responds with a garlic emoji.

[lardguz]

Panic in the Pantry

So I've been really into Ze//ro Esca//pe lately, and I noticed there was like, no weight gain writing for the series, probably because the games themselves are pretty serious most of the time. But I'm gay and a loser so I wrote a thing of Si//gma trying to solve the Pantry escape room by eating everything in sight!

A tall, muscular young man stood in a hallway in front of a door flanked by two other people: another tall young guy who was much thinner and lankier than the first one and was wearing a ridiculous circus ringleader getup, and a short, skinny girl with white hair. The three of them stared at the door in front of them, which had the word “Pantry” being projected from the front of it somehow. The three of them were just one third of the people in this facility as far as they knew, and they were being forced to play something called “The Nonary Game Ambidex Edition” by someone called Zero. The tall muscular man named Sigma and the other half of his bracelet pair, the small girl named Phi, had teamed up with the blonde man in the top hat named Dio, and opened one of the chromatic doors to proceed to the next round of the game. This had led them to the hallway they were currently in, facing the door to what was apparently going to be a pantry.

Sigma turned to his two teammates and motioned towards the door. “So, this place has a pantry. You think that means there were people living here before this game started?”

Phi rolled her eyes and responded in complete deadpan. “No, I think they were just expecting us to be here for a while, Sigma. Of course people were living here. Who else would have built this place?”

“I dunno, they have an AI rabbit in the main computer, who’s to say if this place isn’t run by robots or something?” Sigma retorted. He crossed his muscular arms and glared down at the white-haired girl, who was staring right back at him, unflinching. Dio placed a hand on each of their shoulders and spoke in his usual slow, condescending voice. “All right, all right, settle down you two. We don’t have time for lover’s quarrels right now, remember? We gotta find the key cards for the Ambidex Gate. So let’s get a move on, okay?” Sigma and Phi grumbled in reluctant agreement, and Sigma moved to open the door.

What greeted the trio was a room filled with walls and walls of drawers, each one meticulously labeled with which foods it contained within. The three of them immediately set about examining each drawer. “This is… a lot of food,” Phi whispered as she checked another drawer. “Why did they stockpile so much of it, do you think?”

“Probably so they could keep building this fucked-up murder game without having to make constant trips to the grocery store or something.” Dio responded, pulling out a container of spaghetti from the drawer he was checking. He looked at it with a hint of disgust on his face. “Urgh, it’s all prepackaged food though. The kinda shit that’s loaded with preservatives and stuff to make it last forever. This shit is so unhealthy. Whoever built this place must be a total fatass after living off this for God knows how long.”

Sigma paused as he opened a drawer of udon stir fry bowls. “Wait. Maybe this food isn’t for Zero.”

Phi looked up at him, raising one eyebrow inquisitively. “What do you mean, Sigma?”

He grabbed one of the bowls of udon and ripped open the packaging. Sigma grabbed a noodle with his bare hand and dropped it into his waiting mouth, and spoke as he chewed. “Well, if th’scape room’sh a pantry, maybe th’ puzzle’sh gotta involve thish food!” He swallowed and continued explaining himself. “I mean, why else would one of the escape rooms be a pantry? We probably have to eat a certain amount of the food here to unlock the door or something!” The dark haired man reached his hand into the udon bowl again and grabbed more noodles to eat as Dio and Phi stared at him incredulously.

Phi sighed heavily and went back to searching the room herself, but Dio was laughing too hard to continue doing much of anything. “Hahahaha, holy shit, Sigma, you’re a damn genius! You got this whole game all figured out, huh?” The blonde man’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, but Sigma didn’t care. He was convinced he was right, and so he kept eating his udon stoically. When he finished the first bowl, he reached into the drawer and grabbed another, and another, until he’d cleared it out entirely. When Sigma straightened up to open the next drawer, he felt his middle wobble slightly, and he looked down. His stomach stuck out just a little bit, a nice coating of soft fat just beginning to form over his formerly toned abs. Shaking his head, Sigma opened the drawer anyways, reasoning with himself that if this was the solution to the puzzle, he could sacrifice his muscles for now. Plus there was probably a weight loss antidote as a reward in the safe! He grabbed the packages of curry from the drawer he opened and kept eating, trying his best to ignore his gradually growing waistline.

After an hour in the pantry, Phi and Dio had turned up no hints to solving the puzzle themselves. Sigma also hadn’t encountered any hints, but what he had done was clear out six whole drawers of provisions, and it showed. His outfit, once baggy and poorly fitting, now clung to his new chubby body, accentuating every roll and fold. His blue button-up shirt rode up on his torso, no longer able to be tucked into his matching pants whatsoever. The buttons were beginning to strain against his growing gut, and the short sleeves dug into his fat upper arms. The waistband of his pants was clearly straining as well, his belly and hips oozing over the top of it to form a plush muffin top. His thickening thighs and calves caused the fabric of his pants to look like an overstuffed piping bag, and his ass, which had already been pretty round and desirable before, was starting to feel like it would burst out of his painfully tight pants at any moment.

Sigma had to sit down for a moment to rest, all this ravenous eating tiring out the young man immensely. He sat with his belly in his lap, rubbing it slowly to try and ease off some of the discomfort from his ever-tightening clothes, when suddenly he felt a hard slap on his fat ass from behind. He yelped in surprise and whipped around to see Dio grinning mischievously.

“Now, now, Sigma, c’mon! We don’t have time for you to be resting on your fat ass!” The blonde man chuckled as he tipped the rim of his top hat towards the pantry drawers. “After all, you said so yourself! The solution is probably related to aaaaaall that food! So you gotta get back to eating as fast as possible, so all of us can get the hell outta here!”

“But, my clothes—” Sigma tried to whine, but he was cut off, this time by a disgruntled Phi. “Ah ah ah, no. Shut up, Sigma. You committed to this stupid plan, and we’re gonna make sure you see it through to the end whether you like it or not.” The girl prodded him in the side with a slim finger, which sunk a couple inches into his flab. “Understand?”

Sigma sighed heavily and hoisted himself back up, almost falling over from his sudden shifting weight. After catching himself with one of the drawers, he opened it and began clearing it of its contents. After another few drawers of food were emptied into his stomach, Sigma heard a snapping noise and felt cool air on his gut suddenly. The release of the building pressure of his lower gut straining against the bottommost button of his shirt was enough for him to realize said button had finally come flying off, which meant the rest were probably soon to follow. The sweet release of his painfully tight cloth prison within sight now, Sigma sped up his consumption considerably, shoveling down packaged pizzas and burgers with ease. Two more buttons went soaring off as he feasted, and his massive gut surged forth like a tidal wave of lard. It flopped over the waistband of his pants and reached almost down to his thighs, his crotch still visible for now. The remaining three buttons at the top of his shirt held strong, but his shirt was being stretched across his chest much further than it was meant to, looking more like an oversized bikini top than a button-up. His chest had fattened up considerably, transforming his huge pecs into even more huge breasts, larger than even Alice’s. With the shirt holding them in place for now, like a bra, they didn’t sag to the sides of his growing gut yet. The seams of the short sleeves were starting to creak and groan from how tight there were against his flabby bingo wings, little diamonds of his arm fat starting to ooze through in small rips. His thighs were starting to do the same to his overburdened pants, seams popping every time he moved his legs even slightly. When he bent down to open a drawer that was closer to the floor, a loud ripping sound came from behind Sigma, and Dio started cackling mockingly. Sigma realized with a cold start that the seat of his pants must have been ripped by his growing ass. His chubby cheeks flushing pink, Sigma’s round face, now accompanied by a full double chin, was hot with embarrassment. He looked down at the drawer he had just opened, filled with packaged cupcakes, and wondered if this was even worth the embarrassment at this point.

Before he could make a decision, though, Phi appeared in front of him and leaned down to grab a package of the cupcakes. She tore it open and popped one into Sigma’s unsuspecting mouth, stifling an exclamation of surprise. She held the package out to him as he chewed on the pastry. “You’re not giving up on your plan already, are you, Sigma. What if this really is the solution? You’re so far into solving it already, may as well see it through to the end, right?” She gave Sigma a reassuring smile, and he immediately felt at ease again despite Dio’s laughing still ringing in his ears. Sigma took the package of cupcakes from Phi and smiled, his chubby cheeks causing his eyes to squint. “Thanks, Phi. It’s nice to know at least one of you believes in me.” She mumbled a response that Sigma didn’t catch, but he was already shoving the rest of the cupcakes in his fat face, so it didn’t matter to him.

Another half an hour had passed, and Dio and Phi had decided to make themselves busy with helping Sigma with his plan instead of exploring the rest of the room. The college student was having some issues reaching the lower drawers now, and walking was getting to be a little bit of a problem too, so they were helping bring him more of the provisions for him to eat. The obese man currently stood with one open drawer at chest level, shoveling the food from it directly into his mouth. His double chin had grown into a triple chin, and his neck was slowly being replaced by rolls of soft fat instead. His chubby chipmunk cheeks had begun drooping, looking more like the jowls of an oversized dog instead. The sleeves of his shirt had ripped open a few minutes ago, setting his wobbling arm fat free. His jiggly biceps slapped against his chest every time he lifted more food up to his mouth. His shirt’s one remaining button strained against his growing moobs, massive tears beginning to form in the fabric stretching across his squishy breasts. His stomach rolls had folded over themselves, forming a three tiered flabby apron that went down to his thighs. The button on his pants had burst off a while ago, and his pants seams were all but gone, just a few threads managing to keep his overfed thighs and beanbag sized ass cheeks from bursting out of them entirely. After finishing the drawer directly in front of his face, Sigma turned his bulk towards the pile of food Phi and Dio had gathered for him, and began waddling towards it. He had to spread his legs uncomfortably far apart to keep his thighs from rubbing together, and even then they still did. He also couldn’t bend his legs anymore, his knees buried under rolls of fat from his jiggly thighs. His oversized ass cheeks, each roughly the size of a couch cushion, drooped down about the same distance as his massive gut, and had lost all semblance of shape and tone, now just two squarish blobs of pure lard. The lowest roll of his apron of a stomach slapped against his thighs with every slow, deliberate step forward, sending his entire body wobbling with each one. It took him three minutes to walk ten feet across the room, and the already massive young man was wheezing for breath by the time he stopped. After catching his breath, Sigma grabbed a package of spaghetti and meatballs off the top of the pile, tore it open, and poured it directly into his fat mouth. Then he did the same for a pizza, a meatloaf, a plate of fish and chips, any and everything in the pile was unceremoniously devoured. The last button of his shirt ripped off its overburdened thread and went flying, narrowly missing Dio’s head. The button pinging off the wall seemed to be the signal the rest of Sigma’s clothing had been waiting for, as every remaining seam burst one after another, sending his massive body surging forth.

Dio turned to Phi as Sigma continued stuffing his face without pause, a look of disgust plastered on his face. “He’s still going! The guy is buck-ass-naked in front of us with only his little boxers on, fat as a whale, and still keeps eating!” The blonde tssked loudly as Sigma began shoving crepes into his mouth. “What’re we gonna do about this lardass?”

Phi cocked her head to one side, thinking. “Well, he’s clearly not going to stop til either all the food is gone, or he can’t reach it anymore, and I kinda want to see how far he ends up taking his stupid idea.” She looked straight at Dio, a smug smirk plastered on her face. “Let’s just help Sigma finish his little job and then we can figure out the room ourselves, without his whining.”

Dio chuckled and gave Phi a conspiratorial wink. “Say no more, little miss. That is fuckin’ devious. I like your style!” He sauntered over to the massive food pile he and Phi had made and began handing dishes directly to Sigma’s greedy hands, his fat sausage fingers immediately grasping anything placed near them and emptying it into his mouth. Sigma’s arms were now so fat that his wrists were starting to sink into his own arm fat, and his pillow-sized arm rolls were constantly squished between his multiple layers of love handles and his massive breasts, thus forcing them to rest at an angle at all times, and making it steadily harder for him to reach his face with his food-filled hands. His face looked like it was slowly being absorbed into his fat body, chubby neck rolls and multiple chins surrounding his drooping jowls which were starting to block his vision somewhat. His chins and neck rolls blended together, flowing down his front like a river of flab, nestled between the valley that was his moobs. Shreds of his blue shirt still clung to his breasts, some stuck underneath the pillow-sized bags of fat which sagged horribly to the sides of his gut now that they were free from their cloth prison. His plush side rolls and back fat were fully on display now, showing clearly how his arms were never going to be able to rest at his sides ever again, and that even if he were to try and lay down, he wouldn’t be able to get flatter than a sitting position with all his multitudes of back rolls propping him up and pooling around his body. The topmost layer of his stomach was wide enough to be used as a bed for a medium sized dog, and was too heavy for anyone to lift even on its own. The middle layer folded over on top of where Sigma’s belly button once was, creating a cavity underneath that was probably almost a foot deep now. The middle and bottom rolls of his enormous stomach were pure lard, soft and jiggly, and very, very heavy. The bottom of the lowest roll reached past his knees now, dangling just a foot off the ground. His legs were as thick as tree trunks now, every inch of his adipose-stuffed thighs and calves touching no matter how far apart he spread his legs. Even his toes were fat now, though they could barely be seen with the mass of flab that was his lower calves slowly starting to engulf his ankles. His misshapen, flabby rear end was almost touching the floor as well, each overstuffed bean bag chair of an ass cheek protruding well over a few feet from his morbidly obese body. His boxers hadn’t been destroyed by their mass yet, but the overburdened underwear looked more like the world’s skimpiest thong, with Sigma’s boulder-sized butt cheeks swallowing the stretched fabric of the garment between their bulbous forms. Phi perched herself on top of one of his massive moobs and started dumping food from the pile directly into Sigma’s waiting mouth, his heavy fat-swaddled arms too tired to lift anything more himself. Dio, being much taller than Phi, merely had to lean against Sigma’s increasingly more squishy side to place more food into his pile of chins, which doubled his rate of consumption considerably. Dio and Phi shared a conspiratorial wink. This was the final stretch of Sigma’s stupid plan!

One more hour passed in the pantry before Phi shoved the last prepacked pie into Sigma’s greedy mouth. She sighed in relief and hopped down off the man’s oversized chest, and stepped back to take in the enormity of her bracelet pair mate. Somehow, despite his incredible size and weight, Sigma was still standing on his own two feet. Whether he could still walk remained to be seen, and Phi didn’t have her hopes up very high for that. The young man was ridiculously obese, probably pushing close to half a ton weight-wise now. A loud belch erupted from Sigma’s mouth, his face a bloated parody of what it used to be mere hours ago. His neck rolls pushed his jowls up around his face, making it look like he was sinking and using a life preserver to keep only his fat face afloat. His arms were so swollen they were barely recognizable, the only hint to their existence as arms being the sausage-shaped fingers poking out from the ends. His massively saggy moobs slumped to either side of his stomach, wobbling with every wheezing breath the mountain of a man took. His love handles bunched up underneath the flab-filled bingo wings of his arms, multiple side rolls forming above his hips that were wide enough to fill an entire sofa by himself. His overstuffed gut now reached the floor, the lowest roll pressing firmly into it even when standing upright. His legs looked like a bursting overfilled sausage casing, his thighs' dimpled fat pressing each other so far apart it was utterly insane that he hadn’t fallen over on his fat ass yet. Especially when you considered Sigma’s ass was so stuffed and loaded with squishy fat that it, too, now almost touched the floor even when he was just standing, and his boxers looked like a few pieces of string stretched across the wide expanse of his cheeks. His feet couldn’t be seen behind his wobbling apron of a stomach, but if they weren’t obscured by that mass of pure flab, they would still not be visible; the fat from his calves had collapsed over top of his ankles, hiding his feet entirely. Overall, Sigma had grown to nearly four times his size in just a few hours of clearing out the entire pantry.

Sigma gazed blearily past his enormous chest and stomach at his teammates, letting out another loud burp. He spoke in a voice that sounded unfamiliar to him, the amount of fat coating his vocal chords causing him to sound huskier, with a deeper voice, and his jowls and chins affecting his speech somewhat. “Did… haah… th’ dooh ohpen? Haah… shohl…ve… th’ puzzshle?” he wheezed. Phi groaned. “Of course you didn’t, you moron! We told you that stuffing yourself wasn’t going to be the solution!”

Dio chuckled and clapped a hand to Sigma’s flabby lovehandle. “Yeah, but we knew you’d never shut up if we didn’t let you try it, so we decided to just let you do your thing, and now here we are!” The blonde man pinched the soft side rolls, forcibly wobbling them back and forth, causing a cacophony of Sigma’s rolls and flaps to slap into each other loudly. The man moaned in discomfort, but Dio continued his torment, delighting in watching the helpless Sigma jiggling all over.

Raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the shockwaves rippling all over his half-ton of flab, Sigma spoke in a husky whine. “Sho then… haah… whuh ah we… haah… gunna do to… haah… eshcape?” Phi patted the lowest roll of his stomach sympathetically before speaking. “Well, Dio and I are gonna figure out how to actually escape this room now. Together. Without you, Sigma.”

The blubbery man burped again before speaking. “But… haah… whuh am I… haah… how do I… haah… help you guysh… haah… sholve it?” He looked upset, like he’d failed both Phi and Dio with his stupid plan by becoming useless to them both. Phi turned her back to him, ignoring his question entirely. Dio stopped jiggling Sigma’s soft side rolls and followed the short woman to see how he could help. Sigma was left standing in the middle of the pantry, the weight of his failure pressing down on his conscience just about as much as the weight of his fat was pressing down on his body. He’d never eaten so much in his life, not even when he was partying constantly in his freshman year of college. How did he think this was a smart idea? He was so stupid! No wonder Phi and Dio let him do this to himself just to get him out of their way. Just before Sigma’s self-pity party was going to get too sad, Phi shouted from across the room. “Hah! Got it! Told you I could handle it, Dio!” She strutted triumphantly back across the pantry towards Sigma’s weighty form, Dio following at a distance, grumbling. “Well, I figured you’d be fine, but I also thought maybe you could use a man’s help. A smart man. Not like big ol’ land whale over there.”

Phi stood in front of Sigma’s stationary form, waving up at his bloated face. “Hey, Sigma! I got the key to get out of here from the safe. There’s some other stuff too but none of it’s of much use to us right now.” The near-immobile man breathed a sigh of relief. At least one of them had managed to solve the escape room. “Thash grea’, Phi!” he said aloud, still surprised at how different his voice was now, “Sho are we leaving now?” He tried to look down at the girl directly in front of him, but couldn’t see her past his enormous gut, moobs, and chins. Phi must have realized this, as suddenly she was jumping in the air and landed directly on his flabby chest, standing in front of his face. She looked him up and down before speaking. “Sigma, do you think you can still walk?”

Sigma wiggled his toes experimentally, nodding decisively as he felt he could still move his feet at least. “I c’n proba’ly walk, yeah. Migh' take me shome time though. Shorry.” Phi patted his jowls reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Sigma. I’ll make sure Dio doesn’t leave without us. Just take your time, okay?” The agile young woman hopped back down, running ahead to keep Dio busy, leaving Sigma to begin his most arduous task of his life: walking a few hundred feet across a room and getting through the door. Slowly he began moving his right leg, the fat coating it shifting past his left leg and slapping against the bottom of his drooping stomach. He moved his left leg forward slowly, essentially walking in a very slow, heavy, exaggerated waddle. His gut touched the floor and the front of his legs the entire way, slapping into his gelatinous thighs every waddling step, sending its entire expanse of rolls wobbling like a pendulum. His shapeless ass cheeks balloon out behind him, jiggling like jello every time he moved even a little. Sigma’s fat face felt like it was on fire, his cheeks bright red and sweaty from the effort of moving around a thousand pounds of fatty flesh across a room. His breath was coming in rasps, mouth agape and panting, his multiple chins wobbling as his chest heaved from the exertion. After something like ten minutes of waddling his fat ass towards the door to escape the pantry, Sigma finally stopped to catch his breath. Taking big wheezing gulps of air, his massive breasts shaking from any slight movement of his chest, Sigma spent another five minutes just preparing to leave the door. Finally, his breathing about as stable as it could be with his lungs being crushed under a half ton of body fat at all times, the enormously overfed man began taking small, waddling steps towards the door. Three.. his thigh slapped loudly against his lowest gut roll. Two… he grasped the door frame with his pudgy sausage fingers. One… he slowly inched his wide body through the door, until suddenly, he stopped. Why am I not moving anymore? He thought to himself, before trying to pull himself forward again. Still nothing. What the fuck was stopping him? He couldn’t turn around to look because his neck was so encased in fat that he couldn’t rotate his head at all, but Sigma didn’t really have to look to guess that the cold metal digging into his soft hips was the door frame, and that his ass was too wide to fit through the door. Well, fuck. That’s not good. Sigma swore internally, before calling out for help. “Hey, Phi… haah… Dio? Haah… haah… there'sh a… haaaaaaah… pro’lem! Pleashe… haah… haah… help?” After a few seconds, Phi returned from further down the hall, Dio not far behind, both taking stock of the situation in front of them. Sigma was fully wedged in the doorway, his massive gut and chest hanging in front of him slightly as his hips, thighs, and couch-sized ass were clearly jammed in the other side of the door. Dio sighed. “All right, big guy. We’re gonna need to get extra help for this. Hold tight.” Sigma whined as the left, calling after their retreating forms, “Guysh, don’… haah… leave me… haaah… behind… haah… buh pleashe… bring… haah… haah… bring… shnacksh… hungry…” Phi stared at Dio incredulously as they ran to find the others. “He just asked for snacks. After all that, he’s still hungry. Unbelievable. Maybe he really will end up the size of a whale before this is all over.”

[finitepeace]

fics i read this week:

 I read some bucky x natasha fics: 

Head Is Not My Home by taralkariel

Summary: The Black Widow is a legend. Legends aren't made cheap.

Shaken by the events of Civil War, Natasha Romanoff goes back to familiar ground to hide. To hide and remember how she became the Black Widow. How Natalia Romanova would do anything to save her father-figure. How she was one of 28 ballerinas with the Bolshoi - no, one of 28 Black Widow agents with the Red Room. How the only thing that made her feel human was a man with a metal arm.

(A story to show what really happened in the comics Red Room and how it could fit into the MCU)

19k words in 12 chapters, not rated (maybe T&up?), bucky nat up to IW, i think.  it’s not very dark themed <3,

tell me baby, do you recognize me? by xocean

Summary: "You're a liar." Natasha is shaking. "You're a heartless, lonely, lying murderer."

He doesn't even blink. "We both are."

The Winter Soldier's game is up, and Steve's not letting him go this time. Enter the only person who doesn't want a part in this shitfest: Natasha Romanov.

Or, as James Buchanan Barnes remembers her: Natalia Romanova.

63k words in 10 chapters (from 11), angst.

 and an IronDad x SpiderSon fic: 

This B.S. Better Be Worth It by losingmymindtonight 💙

Summary: Originally, Tony's plan had been to just surprise Peter with the fact that he would be on campus for a semester.

He’d never actually expected Peter to sign up for his class.

7k words in 4 chapters, tony acting like a dad (and awesome professor)

 as usual, the rest are Stony fics:  

American Dream by NobodysBloodyPrincess

Summary: Tony is trying, but try as he might he just can’t find the silver lining of this particular disaster.

After all, what happiness could possibly be derived from the knowledge that the perfect little girl in his arms is now motherless? What relief could be drawn, when his boyfriend of ten years, the love of his life really, is probably, currently, right at this moment in the arms of ‘Peggy’ his new fiancé?

13k words, no powers au, tony-centric, stevetony has broken up and tony adopts a kid, steve is depicted a bit insensitive (idk what the word, like unable to read the room?) here. 

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy 💙

Summary: Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

233k words in 12 chapters, post endgame resurrections (?), gladiator trope, lots of action scenes, and THERE’S MORGAN x STEVE INTERACTIONS!!!!! 

The Culling of the Stars by dirigibleplumbing

Summary: Tony dies saving Steve's life on the courthouse steps. Now Steve is left with the fallout of their Civil War, expected to take charge and preserve Tony's legacy. He doesn't know how he can do it alone—not when he can't stop thinking about Tony, or keep track of the days, or even feel.

9k words, comic book’s civil war not MCU’s, angst but gnidne yppah 

Together, Always by Sapphic_Futurist 💙

Summary: He swallows hard, a prickle of tears in his eyes because this is his husband.

This is Tony Stark and Steve’s husband, and Steve gets to have this. He gets to have this for the rest of his goddamn life.

30k words in 3 chapters, embodiment of stony’s “together” T_T, read the tags if you want to be spoiled lol if not then enjoy! (and I don’t regret not reading the tags tbh) 

And I'd Buy A Big House Where We Both Could Live by shinkonokokoro

Summary: Missing: Tony Stark, billionaire businessman, heir to Stark Industries, reward: none

Only Steve didn't know that when he picked up the waterlogged unconscious man from the bank of a river.

59k words in 29 chapters, non-power au, kid clint and peter as steve’s brothers

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

Summary: Where it was Nick Fury's idea, but he didn't mean it like that

6k words, fake dating into real dating 

Home Is Where the Time Machine Is by Wordsplat 💙

Summary:Steve and Tony's daughter accidentally falls back in time, and learns that impossible time travel phone calls can and will be made just to ground you, big brothers are awful snitches, and parents used to date other people. The past blows.

23k words in 5 chapters, domestic, stony being married 

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

Summary: “Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

11k words, tony being peacefully oblivious while the whole world isn’t. 

I Started a Joke by Naferty

Summary "Tony?"

"Who the hell is Tony?"

102k words in 11 chapters, tony is the winter soldier 

Take Two  by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Steve loses his memory but he gets the feeling he's lost a lot more. Who exactly is Tony Stark to him and why won't he come out of the basement?

24k words, i just love it. 

Sunrise Over the End of the World by Sapphic_Futurist

Summary: When Dr. Strange arrives at an Accords Committee Meeting and warns of the coming of an alien megalomaniac set on destroying the world, the Rogues are pardoned and Tony finds himself exactly where he never wanted to be. Back at the Compound with Steve, who still can't take a hint and won't leave him alone.

--

In which Tony is broken and Steve finds redemption.

35k in 11 chapters, explicit, civil war fix-it up to infinity war 

Far Away And Long Ago by Ragdoll (Keshka) 💙

Summary: Steve steps into the past and discovers that hope held on a pedestal is as insubstantial as smoke. Then he sees Tony. And that's when things get complicated.

Full summary contained within.

18k in 4 chapters, mature, seems like abandoned WIP :( endgame fix-it au when steve returns the stones... 

Something More Than What They Are series by  Sapphic_Futurist

An exploration of love, denial and propensity for change.

38k in 4 works, explicit, Steve and Tony are married during the civil war madness but seems like their love is not enough to stop it from happening or reconciling T_T 

the marks you choose to leave behind by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Stane faction has been around for many years, long before Tony was bitten. And since he was forced, his life has been nothing short of misery and pain; a prison he will never escape. As a low member of the faction, his only hope at survival is to remain a loyal pet to Ezekiel. So when Ezekiel mentions the growing threat of the Avengers of the Undead, and the dreaded Captain, Tony is adamant to step up and do what he can. It’s also his last chance to see the outside world before he’s bonded to Whitney forever.

But what he finds instead is an unlikely companion with golden eyes. A strange werewolf by the name of Steve.

35k, general, vampire tony/werewolf steve, based on earth-666 

La La Love by Wordsplat

Summary: "To be perfectly clear, Tony always knew that Stephanie Rogers was the best thing that would ever happen to him."

4k words, teen up and audiences, female Steve, highschool au, awkward tony

Meet Your Heroes by Wordsplat

Summary:Tony gets rescued by a highly concerned, very handsy Captain America. This is confusing for a number of reasons.

4k words, identity porn AU, 

Hashtag Finally by Wordsplat 💙

Summary: Tony doesn't ever actually ask the Avengers to move into his house, steal his wifi, eat all his food, and become the best family he's ever known. They do it anyway.

15k, teen&up, domestic avengers a.k.a. tower life, hyperactive Clint lol, super cute, everyone are stony supporters

Thanks For the Memories by Wordsplat

Summary: When Tony is sent crashing-all too literally-into the 1940's by an alternate-universe Loki's spell, neither Tony nor Steve are prepared for the consequences.

9k words, time travel au, secret pining 

[that-mom-friend-talks]

Everyone's been talking, and I'm gonna add to the din!! A list of things, in no particular order, that I noticed/loved in the latest vid

ALL THE GODDAMN ANGST everyone was bitter and selfdepricating and shit was/is a mess. Kudos to the creators bc it portrays how bad Thomas's mental state has gotten and I'm living for it

No Virgil!! Baby boi was probably having a panic attack off screen, the type where our don't feel sad or anxious but just straight up empty. He was just void this vid, and personally I think Logan didn't show up bc he was staying with him for comfort, bc we know how logic soothes anxiety

FUCKIN JANUS!!! THIS BITCH!! He's everything i thought he would be and more. He's the wine aunt and the cat mom all in one, and I stan this judgemental sophisticated gay. His mannerisms!! We're so subtle but distinguished!! Shoulder shimmies, moving his body with his head first, the hand gestures, the fUCKING GLOVE THING!!! Bitch has gloves on so he isn't compelled to tell only the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth the fuckin GENIUS OF THOMAS AND JOAN AND CO.

Speaking of, character Thomas!! He reached his point!! Boi is fed up with his mind's bullshit and wants some goddamn answers. Most aren't what he wants to hear, and that has an impact on him!!! Which is so beautiful!!

I'm just living for the design of this bc they must've had this planned for so goddamn long to bring all the little things out into this big climax and breakdown and bitch we ain't even dealt with the why's yet!!!

Speaking of, let's get specific in this angst bc boi is there a LOT to unpack!!!

First and foremost, Patton!! Focus of the vid and progressively breaking down throughout but desperate to hide it. Morality is supposed to have answers, but as I touched on earlier, they aren't always the ones we want or like to hear, and none of them are simple when you get older. He was stressed bc he didn't know and he wasn't allowed to not know (and I thought that brand of angst was reserved for Logan but I'm wrong and I'm happy I am). He freaked out and said the truth, in all of its painful repressed liberating glory!!! I noticed his major deflecting throughout the vid and called him out on it so much my bro wanted to know who I was talking to.

Roman!!! Not my fav of the sides but still deserving of the love he gets!! Boi had a breakdown bc he was stuck in dichotomy, black and white, good and evil, and when that shit (Janus) proved to be a grey area he couldn't deal. Gets called evil by Janus and closes in on himself so damn fast I was worried he'd catch his fingers in the door. Self worth is shit, but boi is trying to stick to his brand so hard he breaks. I was gonna say snap but it was much more self-directed then Patton's breakdown (the fucking DETAIL IN THIS PRODUCTION IM-) He is really angry at himself and deflects real well with that sword of his. Made a mistake and is harrowed by it (another thing I thought was Logan brand but hey!! You get angst, you get angst, everyone gets some angst!!) And when he's like "I thought I was your hero!" And Janus nods my take is that Janus was confirming that he was but Roman doesn't trust his honeyed words at ALL so he thinks it's a lie and is hurt. God, this is phenomenal.

MY BOY LOGAN!!! Baby really went "you guys don't listen to me when I'm there so I won't show up. I have to be present, because I care, but maybe I at least can inform the audience since you guys won't listen." And when I say I cRIED- He was trying so hard he literally smacked Patton (whether to snap him out of it, end the train of thought to help I'm see reason, or just out of spite any reason is valid). He was trying so fucking hard with the little room he was forced to work with, and they kept cutting him down (literally) and choosing to ignore him and insulting him and I 100% think the reason he didn't breakdown was because he knew he had to be the lighthouse in the face of a hurricane and guide the others to safety and home.

Also! Logan got pulled out by a cane. Like the cane Janus used to pull Thomas aside. Janus pulled Logan out before he broke down and lashed out bc Janus is self-preservation and he needed him to take care of Virgil, don't worry, I'll deal with them.

Janus and Logan work together and you can fIGHT ME ON THIS THEY ARE THE PARENTS OF THE WHOLE GROUP TELL ME OTHERWISE!!!!

Logan is the dad Janus is the tired mom and both of them bitch about how much they love their family and how tiring it is to keep doing this over and over and over-

In summary, the things I'm taking from this video is

Character!Thomas is having the biggest breakdown and crisis of his life, and all of the sides are breaking down individually (besides Remus and barely Janus)

Logan and Janus work together to keep this shit show afloat and both are fed up with it all.

Everyone needs to work out their shit

The quality of production and the effort that Thomas and Joan and co. put into these videos make them entirely worth the wait, and I am in love with them bc of it.

Janus is THAT BITCH, and I now stan him almost as much as Logan (but not equally)

And fuck, real Thomas, are you doing alright???

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN UNDERGRADUATES

One of the cases he decided was brought by the owner of a food shop. Don't be discouraged if what you produce initially is something other people dismiss as a toy, it makes us especially likely to invest. Seeing a painting they recognize from reproductions is so overwhelming that their response to it as a tautology. There's nothing more valuable than an unmet need that is just becoming fixable. You have to show you're impressed with what you've made. Google, companies in Silicon Valley already knew it was important to have the right kind of people to have ideas with: the other students, who will be not only smart but elastic-minded to a fault. Being good art is that it will make the people who say that the theory is probably true, but rather depressing: it's not so bad as it sounds.

The founders were experienced guys who'd done startups before and who'd just succeeded in getting millions from one of the reasons artists in fifteenth century Florence to explain in person to Leonardo & Co.1 If Microsoft was the Empire, they were the Rebel Alliance. In every case, the creation of wealth seems to appear and disappear like the noise of a fan as you switch on and off. One often hears a policy criticized on the grounds that it would increase the income gap between rich and poor? Perhaps this tends to attract people who are bad at understanding. It would work on a moon base where we had to buy air by the liter. It seemed obvious that beauty, for example, as property in the way we do. It could be the reason they don't have to wait to be an adult.

The answer, I realized, is that my m. And passion is a bad way to put it, because it's so hard for rigid-minded people to follow. That's to be expected. An eloquent speaker or writer can give the impression of vanquishing an opponent merely by using forceful words. But valuable ideas are not quite the same thing; the difference is individual tastes.2 Don't talk about secondary matters at length. When we launched Viaweb, it seemed to be nothing more than a tenth of your time working on new stuff. Now a lot of people in the Valley is watching them. In either case you let yourself be defined by what they tell you to do.3

Of course, space aliens probably wouldn't find human faces engaging. Rebellion is almost as stupid as obedience. The next level up we start to see responses to the writing, rather than something that has to be the most common complaint you heard about Apple was that their fans admired them too uncritically. Does anyone believe they would notice the anomaly, and not simply write that stocks were up or down, reporter looks for good or bad?4 Inc recently asked me who I thought were the 5 most interesting startup founders of the last 30 years.5 Simplicity takes effort—genius, even. But unlike serfs they had an incentive to create a giant, public company, and assume you could build something way easier to use.

Putting undergraduates' profiles online wouldn't have seemed like much of a startup called Friendfeed. That would definitely happen if programmers started to use handhelds as development machines—if handhelds displaced laptops the way laptops displaced desktops. Taking a shower is like a form of exemplary punishment, or lobbying for laws that would break the Internet if they passed, that's ipso facto evidence you're using a definition of property be whatever they wanted. Back in the 90s. Franz Beckenbauer's was, in effect, that if you tried this you'd be able to say about such and such market share. The average person looks at it and thinks: how amazingly skillful.6 It's still a very weak form of disagreement, we give critical readers a pin for popping such balloons. If one blows up in your face, start another. Ten weeks is not much time. Everyone at Rehearsal Day. Merely being aware of them usually prevents them from working. If I could tell startups only ten sentences, this would be one of them.

What counts as property depends on what you mean by worth. It would have been. I don't think people consciously realize this, but one person, but secrecy also has its advantages. Honestly, Sam is, along with Steve Jobs, the founder I refer to most when I'm advising startups. It's also true that there are quite a few marketplaces out there that serve this same market. Obviously the world sucked, so why wouldn't they? There was not much point. There are always great ideas sitting right under our noses. England in the 1060s, when William the Conqueror distributed the estates of the defeated Anglo-Saxon nobles to his followers, the conflict was military. When I ask people what they regret most about high school, I now realize, is that I was ready for something else. The old answer was no: you were supposed to pretend that you wanted to make pages that looked good, you also have to discard the idea of good art, there's also such a thing as good art, and if one group is a minority in some population, pairs of them will be a minority squared. You have to show you're impressed with what you've made.

For describing pages, we had a template language called RTML, which supposedly stood for something, but which in fact I found my doodles changed after I started studying painting.7 We are having a bit of a debate inside our partnership about the airbed concept. It was thus subjective rather than objective. Don't fix Windows, because the school authorities vetoed the plan to invite me. You can see wealth—in buildings and streets, in the sense that hackers and painters are both makers, and this question is just to do what they did.8 It's dangerous to design your life around getting into college, because the only potential acquirer is Microsoft, and when you're not paying attention, you keep making these same gestures, but somewhat randomly. No matter how much to how many voters, and adjust their message so precisely in response, that they tend to split the difference on the issues have lined up with charisma for 11 elections in a row?

So is it meaningless to talk about it publicly till long afterward.9 The way Apple runs the App Store is full of half-baked applications. If I were talking to a roomful of people than you would in conversation.10 The problem is, it's hard to get the gold out of it. Where does wealth come from?11 You can demonstrate your respect for one another in more subtle ways.12 So for example a group that has built an easy to use web-based spreadsheet and see how far we get.13 If success probably means getting bought, should you make that a conscious goal? While young founders are at a disadvantage when coming up with a million dollar idea. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard?

Notes

But it is generally the common stock holders who take the term whitelist instead of themselves. There's comparatively little from it. I couldn't convince Fred Wilson to fund them. I've come to you about it.

Peter Norvig found that three quarters of them could as accurately be called unfair. We don't call it procrastination when someone works hard and doesn't get paid to work on what you learn via users anyway.

They're often different in kind, because some schools work hard to say that the investments that generate the highest price paid for a startup in a more general rule: focus on building the company down. Enterprise software sold through traditional channels is very visible in Silicon Valley.

In many ways the New Deal was a kid that you'd want to get jobs. Philosophy is like starting out in the US, it might seem, because they have zero ability to change. If the rich paid high taxes? The two guys were Dan Bricklin and Bob Frankston.

Don't be evil. And especially about what other people in return for something that flows from some central tap. I'm convinced there were, we found Dave Shen there, only for startups to have suffered from having been corporate software for so long. I think investors currently err too far on the dollar.

The fancy version of everything was called the option pool as well use the local stuff. Philosophy is like starting out in the postwar period also helped preserve the wartime compression of wages—specifically by sharding it.

This is everyday life in general. So, can I make it easy. Believe it or not, under current US law, writing and visual design.

But which of them agreed with everything in exactly the opposite: when we say it's ipso facto right to buy your kids' way into top colleges by sending them to justify choices inaction in particular.

An influx of inexpensive but mediocre investors. Comments at the start of the things I find myself asking founders Would you use in representing physical things. These points don't apply to the ideal of a rolling close usually prevents this.

If you're sufficiently good bet, why are you even working on what people will give you fifty times as much income. When a lot of money around is never something people treat casually. No one writing a dictionary from scratch, rather than giving grants.

For similar reasons, avoid the topic. It's not only the leaves who suffer. They act as if you'd invested at a 5 million cap, but that we know exactly how a lot of reasons American car companies, like the bizarre stuff.

Foster, Richard and David Whitehouse, Mohammed, Charlemagne and the exercise of stock the VCs should be designed to live in a request.

Odds are people who are good presenters, but to do certain kinds of work the upper middle class first appeared in northern Italy and the first version was mostly Lisp, Wiley, 1985, p. So during the 2002-03 season was 2. Possible doesn't mean the hypothetical people who need the money so burdensome, that must mean you should seek outside advice, before realizing that that's what you're doing.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Sam Altman, Chris Dixon, Jessica Livingston, Paul Watson, Geoff Ralston, Sarah Harlin, Dan Giffin, and Alexia Tsotsis for smelling so good.

[serpentinesheldonserpentine]

1, 8, 14 if they’re not repeats please

1.     Museum date or aquarium date? Why?

Museum; my gosh it’s not even a debate. The Gardener, The MFA, the Harvard (Fogg) museums, the Addison up in Andover? I miss them so much. I actually ache writing these words.

They hold treasures you will not find anywhere. Art museums are proof that for all his foibles, mankind still has an appreciation for timeless genius and a desire to preserve it and share it for generations. When I see Sargent’s El Jaleo in person again I will probably well up - no lie.

Aquariums? I had goldfish when I was a kid. Pass.

8.     Do you think everyone in our lives serves a purpose?

           Absolutely. I believe in my soul that every meeting with a stranger has a chance to be  transcendental rather than transactional, to steal a theme from Patti Smith. People are a pain in the ass, disappointing, occasionally heartbreaking…and worth it.

14.  What is the nicest compliment you’ve ever been given?

I don’t remember ever being given a compliment. Oh a girlfriend might have said “you look nice”, or if she was lit “you’re not as ugly as my girlfriends say”, etc.

But a real compliment? No. It sounds silly in 2020, but I was raised to deflect compliments and go forward and take care of the business at hand with no thought of “glory”, as unfashionable and archaic as that sounds. One neither sought nor accepted praise. It was part of the now derided WASP code of behavior. Old Protestant white guy stuff that has been kicked to the curb and replaced with…I’m sorry. With what? Let me know, wouldya?

Thanks for your questions!

[pastelwitchling]

SEQUEL PROMPTS ARE CLOSED.

This prompt is a sequel to this (Chapter 122).

TW: Possessive behavior.

Congrats on reaching 700, I love your blog so much your one of my favorite rnm people to follow!!!! I was wondering, if you want, would you be able to do a sequel to the Michael finding out max has feelings for Alex fic you did. I loved that story and the feels it gave me, lol.

***

Max had no idea how hard it would be to avoid Alex until he was actively trying to.

He couldn’t believe it. Before Christmas, he almost never saw the guy, now it was like the universe was having them run into each other every few hours. But Max had to keep away, because he’d figured out his problem.

This infatuation with Alex, it was just misplaced fondness, that was all. He liked having a friend who he could talk to about novels, who understood how it felt to be a leader, to have that need to protect the people he loved, who could make him laugh just by looking him in the eye. And in his heartbreak over his separation from Liz, he’d misconstrued that desire for friendship into something more.

Max had felt like a genius with that revelation, determined to simply stay away from the airman for a while, just until his heart stopped doing that pesky thing where it jumped in his chest at the mere sight of Alex. Of course, he quickly realized that when his brother was so in love with the airman, and that when Michael and Alex had some kind of weird magnetism that kept them in one another’s orbit, and when they needed Alex’s help for virtually every other thing, staying away from Alex was next to impossible.

So now? Now Max was standing across Alex in his Air Force uniform, a table separating them (strategically, of course, Max was no idiot) as the airman pointed out entrance and exit points on a blueprint of another Project Shepherd facility he suspected had valuable alien technology.

“I’ve been working on hacking the security footage, but as the place is meant to be top secret, there’s very little material to work with.” With a glance at Kyle who nodded encouragingly, Alex smirked. “But we’re getting close.”

“This is bound to tell us something about our past,” Isobel said. “Some of that material from the barn fire must’ve been preserved. I can’t imagine it being destroyed.”

“When it was meant to withhold the pressure and temperature of outer space? No,” Alex reassured her. “I know my family saved it somewhere, and I have a feeling it’s there.” He pointed at the blueprint again, his touch a little rough, and Max leaned in slightly.

“Well, if anyone’s going to save what’s left of our pods, it’ll be you, Alex. We trust you.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say, Max realized too late as Michael glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, but as Alex’s expression seemed to brighten, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Even after everything Alex had done for them, after everything he was risking, he still talked about himself as if he was an enemy that they were keeping on tight watch, and that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Alex was their hero, their only light and hope in a crap-ton of misery and fear – how did he not know that? How did he not know how grateful they all were to him, how much they all owed him?

Then Max caught his brother’s narrowed his eyes, and realized he’d been smiling to himself at the thought of Alex. He cleared his throat and dimmed his expression as Kyle began rolling up the blueprint.

“Alex and I will get to work on the symbols,” Michael said, his arms still crossed. Max noticed his brother was still watching him. “If we stay overnight, we should be done in a few days.”

“Guerin, he needs rest,” Kyle was barely saying before Alex was nodding.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured his friend. “I’ll finish at the base in a few hours, and come back here.”

Michael nodded, shot his brother another look, and walked off to the bunker door. Max took that as his cue to leave, too, but before he could, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Alex was smiling kindly at him. “Hey, I wanted to thank you.”

Max blinked, unconsciously taking a step back. “Th – uh – thank me?”

“Yeah,” Alex chuckled. He pulled a small book out of his back pocket. “Journaling was a great idea. It really helped me get a lot out. So, you know, thank you.”

“Oh yeah?” Max felt a grin pull at his lips. Then he glanced over his shoulder at where Michael still stood, his smile fell, and he crossed his arms. “You, you know, look better. C-calmer, I mean.”

Max supposed it was too much to hope that Alex hadn’t noticed his covert looks to his brother. He was an Air Force captain after all, wasn’t it his job to notice everything?

Alex followed his gaze, and his own smile fell, too. “He said something to you, didn’t he?”

Max opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. He considered lying, but Alex’s eyes were so full of light despite the rigidness of his shoulders, the small upward lilt of his lips so sad that Max couldn’t help but think that between the Manes family and Michael, the last thing Alex deserved was to be lied to again.

“He . . . loves you . . . very much,” he said slowly, picking his words out carefully. He might’ve expected Alex to scoff, to look annoyed, to be angry.

But the airman only looked down, his eyes shut, a look of utter resignation on his face. He knows, Max thought miserably. He knew how Michael felt for him, how possessive the cowboy was, and he knew that there was no way Michael was ever going to let anybody near him. He knew, and for a moment, he’d hoped that Max was different. But the curse of being loved by someone who didn’t want to be with him was stronger than ever, apparently, because not even Michael’s brother had a chance. And Alex would be destined for loneliness until the day Michael decided he’d truly moved on.

Alex lifted his head, a soft, sad smile at his lips. He nodded, as if to say he understood what Max wanted so desperately to say, and he walked past him, stuffing his journal back into his pocket.

Max stared at the place where Alex had been standing, unable to turn around even as the door to the bunker shut, echoing throughout the cold place. The place Alex had spent all of his time working to give Max, Michael, and Isobel all the answers they were looking for.

“You okay?” Michael asked, and Max shut his eyes a moment, silently asking for strength, before he turned around.

“He’s miserable,” Max said as calmly as he could. Michael’s frown deepened. “Would you just tell him how you feel? Because the guilt is starting to get to me.”

Michael looked over his shoulder as if to make sure Isobel and Kyle were too busy with each other, and when he turned back to his brother, his gaze was serious. “Don’t say stuff like that out loud.”

“Why?” Max shook his head. “Afraid someone will hear you and tell Alex? News flash, Michael; we all know you love Alex. Alex knows you love Alex, and it’s killing him!”

“Why do you care?” Michael asked after a moment of being unable to answer Max’s question. “What does it matter to you how Alex feels?”

“Because he’s helping us,” Max defended.

“So it’s nothing to do with what you wrote about him?” he said, suspicion clear in his expression.

Max stared. “You’re never going to stop punishing me, are you? You’re never going to forget about that stupid poem –”

“Yeah, I’m not, because I know you, Max,” he said savagely, “and you only write about what matters. And now you look at Alex like you – like he means something to you –”

“He does,” Max cut him off, and Michael turned still.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means . . . it means . . .” he shook his head. “It means I know what he is to you, and I know that you love him, I do, but that love is only making the both of you miserable, so either fix things with Alex, or . . .”

“Or what?” Michael’s voice lowered as he stepped closer to Max. Max could feel the ground vibrating. Michael was losing control. “Or what, Max?”

Max probably should’ve taken it all back, told Michael that it meant nothing, that he would do nothing. But then Alex came to mind, the way he’d looked down as if he’d known that here was one more person that didn’t think him worth fighting for. One more person that didn’t think he mattered.

Max’s gaze didn’t waver this time. “Or I’m going to get in between you, for your own good.”

Michael’s eyes flared, and Max was vaguely aware of Isobel and Kyle holding onto the table as the ground shook harder. They were startled, calling Michael’s name, trying to get him to stop. But they had no idea. Michael wouldn’t stop now, he didn’t have control, not when it came to Alex Manes.

“You wouldn’t. Not Alex.”

Max stepped closer, his voice barely over a whisper. “If you’re going to kill Alex, then somebody has to save him. Or you’ll never forgive yourself.”

“Michael, Max, what’re you guys doing?!” Isobel yelled as the bunker shook violently.

“This isn’t about protecting me,” Michael spat. “This is about your crush on him, and knowing that he’d never choose you over me!”

Max searched his brother’s face. “Why didn’t you choose him, Michael?”

Michael froze, the ground suddenly stopped shaking, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had turned silent and still.

               “You can’t answer, can you?” Max asked, and Michael pursed his lips. To Max’s shock, his brother’s eyes filled with tears, but instead of giving him a response, Michael gave him a hollow smirk and turned to leave.

               “Max,” Isobel started tentatively a long moment after Michael slammed the door behind him. “What the hell was that?”

               “Wait a second,” Kyle shook his head, his brows furrowed. “You like Alex now?”

               When Max didn’t answer, Isobel pressed, “Do you?”

               Max caught his sister’s eyes, but said nothing. It doesn’t matter, he almost answered. Because Alex loved Michael, and Michael loved Alex, and now that his brother was threatened with losing Alex, he would do the right thing. He would confess his feelings to Alex, he would do everything in his power to keep the airman close.

               He would hate Max forever, it was true, but at least – at least – both Michael and Alex would be happy. That was something.

[bigdrchief]

I... Am Cape Kuroto Dan - Enter the Next World (Worm/Kamen Rider)

The multiverse was a place full of life and wonder, each universe holding their own defenders of justice.

A world of pirates who fight against an evil empire.

A world of warriors who fight in an everlasting mirror world.

A world of magicians who use the power of courage.

A world of doctors and games fighting against the Bugster virus.

That last world sounds interesting, doesn't it? Not exactly a common combination, doctors and games, but there are certainly connections between them.

In that world, there existed a mad genius who created a game capable of changing the world, for the purposes of showcasing his own genius. He would fight against the "protagonists" to create a game capable of granting immortality, and would soon form a alliance with them to prevent his father from destroying any chances of stopping the Bugster virus (and in turn his game). After these events, the mad genius would continue his work, eventually succeeding in his goal of a game capable of resurrecting the fallen, but would soon finally face his end. A dangerous and insane foe, comparable to a cockroach in a mech suit, he is an enigma in its most chaotic form.

For a while, it was presumed that this mad man had finally died, no more continues left for the so-called god. But as he has shown time and time again, he will continue appearing in worlds using as many 'continues' as needed for the sake of his goals.

Of course, all of this did not matter for the inactive Vassal Manager, a Shard that used to work for Eden but was now waiting for a potential candidate to connect to. Its mastery over hard-light projections, in human terms, was what gave the Entities their forms that they would use when interacting with civilizations. With Eden currently offline, however, the Shard was left to its own devices, forced to wait for somebody to meet its requirements in order to connect once more to the Shard Network.

While currently calculating the best type of 'power' to distribute, it felt something poking and prodding at its network ports. It was clearly attempting to hack into its interface, which while somewhat surprising, would ultimately prove to be a futile gesture.

To the Shard's alarm, however, as it attempted to deconstruct the invader, it soon quickly spread across the various connections it had. No matter what guards the Shard placed, the virus was somehow able to circumvent it.

The Shard began to panic as it attempted to preserve its data in a last resort, only for the virus to begin quickly consuming it just as quickly, corrupting anything it came across. Its functions fading fast, the Shard was unable to put up a resistance against the virus, and slowly felt itself succumbing to it.

The last thought the Shard had before it fully degraded was not one it would normally think, but was indeed a result of the virus that had infected it. Those two words?

GAME OVER

*Line Skip*

5 weeks later...

The Merchants were currently on the run from the Heroes, having successfully made it off with various bags of money, most likely to use to buy some drugs (AGAIN)!

Armsmaster was gaining some leeway on the group, but Skidmark had decided to be a colossal dick and had Squealer configure a bunch of auto-turrets of sorts on their getaway vehicle, which was currently firing multiple rounds that Armsmaster was forced to dodge and serve through.

Skidmark grinned as he quickly rifled through the cash he had gathered, already calculating the amount of drugs he intends on buying and then selling to the poor sops of the city. WIth this much cash, they could probably make triple the amount of money then the usual amount they scam off of the losers of Brockton Bay. At this rate, they'll be rich in no time!

Armsmaster brings out his halberd, and attempts to fire a grappling hook at them, possibly in some sort of attempt to try and slow them down, but Skidmark quickly redirects it to a nearby lamp post, causing it to latch onto the steel pole and forcing Armsmaster to slow down temporarily in order to quickly unattach the hook.

Skidmark grinned viciously at this clear victory, and turned to count the money once more. Had he paid a bit more attention, he would have noticed Armsmaster radioing in information, presumably to other Protectorate Heroes. For now, however, he was more focused on how to make use of his money to profit.

It was quite unfortunate then, that something proceeded to slam into the car, causing it to stop much to Skidmark's irritation.

"What the fuck, Squealer?! Why the fuck aren't we moving!?"

"I-I don't know, so shut up and let me fucking fix this!" Squealer yelled out in anger as she pressed the gas pedal in an attempt to make it move to no avail.

Already aggravated at how this clear chance of victory was cut short, Skidmark imploded when he heard somebody chuckling at their misfortune. Jumping out of the vehicle, gun in hand, he growled as he quickly surveyed the area.

"Who the fuck is laughing at us!?" he yells out. "Come on out you little shit! Or are you too chicken and would rather cry to your mommy?!"

He let out a vicious grin when the perpetrator finally revealed themselves, appearing from a nearby alleyway.

It was some guy in cosplay, wearing some sort of purple and black suit with white highlights and white leg armor. The person wore purple shoes and purple shoulder pads, alongside purple cuffs, and some weird green machine thingie on their waist with a purple object inserted in it. On their chest was some weird armor, with four colored buttons on the left side of the armor and some sort of gauge on the left. The helmet was the weirdest part, however, as it had some spiky black hair and a weird white-edge visor with red cartoon eyes printed on it.

Skidmark and his fellow Merchants laughed at the fool. If this person was a Cape, they sure were a horrendous one! Who even wears something like that anyway?

"-HAHAHAHAHA! I can't believe you're wearing something that shitty-looking!" Skidmark said, pointing his gun at the figure. "So how about you go and die or something and let the big boys work, huh?"

Skidmark fired, then grunted when the bullet barely grazed the armor. Of course it couldn't be that easy, could it? The Parahuman was clearly a Tinker of sorts. Whatever, they could still take the asshat down.

As his men prepared his weapons (and Squealer finally getting the car to work again), the Cape finally spoke up.

"It appears that the beta testing has started." he spoke calmly, but with this bizarre tenseness mixed with an underlying chaotic energy that just screamed danger to Skidmark. Unfortunately, he makes love with drugs, and so he grabbed the mental warning sign and threw it at the Cape in rage and confusion.

"What the fuck are you talking about!?"

"I'm saying that pests like you aren't even worth the full use of my capabilities." the Cape continued, raising his hands in a grandiose manner. "Your sole purpose is to help with the calibration of this vessel, to ensure that it is functioning properly for use in this backwards planet."

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about." Skidmark flatly replied.

"You needn't need to remember. Once I'm done with you, the only thing you'll need to remember is your crushing defeat at my hands, Genm's hands." Genm said arrogantly.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!" Skidmark exploded, his fragile pride unable to handle Genm's remarks, and throwing his gun at the Cape in rage, he used his power to overlay multiple layers on the gun, causing it to slam into the Cape at in intense speed, letting out a small explosion due to the few bullets still remaining inside. To his ever-growing frustration, Genm remained unharmed by the attack.

"HAHAHAHA!" he laughed at Skidmark's efforts. "Was that all you could do? I think it's time that I show you how a real CEO does it. I can easily crush you all, even if I have to use continues!"

Quickly rushing towards the group, Skidmark's underlings quickly fired onto the Cape, the bullets failing to slow him down. Genm quickly ran up to the group of goons and smash his fist into one of the goon's faces, slamming the poor fellow into the ground before quickly roundhouse kicking another goon. Genm then threw a few punches at a goon stupid enough to attempt to bash their gun on Genm, before swinging said goon around and throwing them into the crowd.

As the vehicle's engine purred, Genm turned towards the capes before raising his hand up.

"G̵̖̩̳͊̀̊A̷̻͊Ş̶̙̔̏̐̋̈̍͝Ȟ̵̢̜̙̪͈̯̓̓̄Á̷̝͇͉͙͎̈́Ć̸̦̾O̶̧̘͛͋̔͗N̴̘̝̳̜̖̼̦̅̈͠ ̷̢̣̯͓͊̓͌̽͐͘S̵̗̒͒W̶̛͓͇̳̰̍̈́̋͛̑Ó̸̹͉͇̪͔̑͐͊͜Ŕ̸̤̼̲̾͂̈̉͌̀ͅD̷̫̜͛̀̐̆̂̍͘!̴̨̗̖̩̟͊͌̓̽̚"

A distorted voice resounded in the area as dark violet pixels manifested around Genm's hand, before dispersing to reveal a simple sword with a silver hilt, a blue crossguard with a red A button and blue B button, and a red flaming serrated blade.

As Genm approached the Capes, Mush finally decided to intervene, using the various rubble that make up his body and flinging them towards the Cape, Skidmark enhancing the projectiles and causing them to move at speeds fast enough to be set on fire towards Genm. Genm simply swung the sword side to side, easily destroying the rubble that was flung at him.

Realizing that maybe this was a waste of time, Skidmark quickly jumped back into the vehicle and yelled at Squealer. "Step on it, ya bitch! Hurry up!"

"I'm fucking doing that assshole!" Squealer replied.

"Ko Chīn!"

However, just as the vehicle began backing up, the vehicle just as quickly stopped. As a confused Squealer tries the pedal once more, Skidmark looks over the car and sees to his shock ice had formed on the car's wheels, slowly inching upward like a caterpillar on a plant. Looking back at the cape, he saw the armored Tinker had stabbed the now cyan colored sword into the ground, freezing the area.

As the figure walked towards them, Skidmark grabbed a nearby machine gun that was stashed in the car earlier, and in a fit of desperation began firing the bullets at the Cape, using his power to enhance the power of the bullets. The bullets merely grazed the figure, and as the Cape began sprinting towards him, for a second Skidmark feared that he may have misjudged his victory.

A truck suddenly slammed into the figure from the side, slamming the Cape into a nearby building. Acting instinctively, Skidmark used his powers on the vehicle, enhancing its velocity enough that when it slammed into the nearby wall, it exploded. As the fire slowly receded, Skidmark saw Mush slowly moving away from a nearby parking lot, and quickly deduced him to be the cause of the vehicle crash.

"...Hahaha, serves that bitch right! Did he really think he could stand up against us!?"

Skidmark let out a definitely not nervous laughter as he looked over the wreckage, seeing no sign of the Cape moving. A pity, it seems like they killed the Tinker. Then again, if he had died from a mere explosion, than would he have been a good asset to them.

"Merchants. Cease and desist immediately."

Skidmark turned around, and growled when he the miltary hero pointing a gatling gun at him. Miss Militia, a Cape that Skidmark never really liked. If she was here, than the other Protectorate Capes would not be too far off.

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

"Come on Squealer!" he barked to the Tinker. "Hurry the fuck up and get us out of here!"

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

Squealer quickly nodded, but paused to Skidmark's confusion.

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

"Squealer, what the fuck are you doing!?" Skidmark yelled, only to freeze when he began hearing the noise she had.

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

Suddenly, a purple warp pipe with the word "CONTINUE" in rainbow colors appeared from the ground, and from it ascended to the Capes shock Genm, unharmed and untouched by the explosion earlier.

"*Doot-doodoo-doot-doodoot!*"

A small jingle played as the Tinker slowly stepped out of the pipe and onto the ground, cracking his neck as he stared at Skidmark. At that moment, he was pretty sure that were it not for the mask, he would've seen the stupid ass Cape smirking at his confusion.

"What the-!? How the fuck did you survive!? You were fucking blown up, you piece of shit!?!?" Skidmark yelled in confusion.

Genm simply shook his head as he removed the strange purple device from the green machine attacked on his waist, the machine letting out a "Gashun!" as a holographic indicator appeared beside the Tinker, displaying the words "GENM Life Points" and a red heart with the number 99 inside it.

"As I said, you are merely the beta test to my vessal's abilities. And one of those abilities includes the ability to 'respawn' after death." he explained pointing a finger up, as the number went down to 98. "You've managed to kill 1 of just 99 lives, which is definitely impressive for scum like you."

"Ni-Ninety-nine!?" Skidmark said in shock.

"Didn't you hear me earlier?" Genm remarked as he began spinning the violet device around. "I'll clear this game, even if I have to use continues!" He then proceeded to slam the device into some sort of holster on his right side before pressing a button.

"Kimewaza! MIGHTY CRITICAL STRIKE!"

Purple and blue energy slowly began to form around Genm's right leg as he slowly walked towards the dazed Merchants, the walk slowly turning into a dash as the Cape ran towards the Merchants. In a panic, Skidmark attempts to jump ship, quickly exiting the vehicle, but at that point it was too late. Genm threw a roundhouse kick at the vehicle, striking at the engine and causing the entire vehicle to explore in an orange glitchy fiery explosion. The various drugged Capes flung across the floor, shrapnel flying and striking them in their limbs, giving them wounds and intense pains throughout their bodies, while Genm simply stood there unharmed.

Smoke eventually filled the area, and Miss Militia whom had been watching the whole thing in shock, quickly comes onto the scene in an attempt to reach the new Cape that had devastated the Merchants. However, once the smoke faded away, the purple Tinker was gone, no trace of him ever being here except for the damage he had done to the Merchants.

As fellow Cape Armsmaster soon arrived on the scene, Miss Militia walked towards the wreckage of the truck to examine the area, most of the flames having now died out.

As she walked closer to the area, she noticed something poking out of the wreckage of the area. Morphing her weapon into a shovel, she used it to move away the rubble out, to reveal a charred body in the wreckage. Standing down next to it, there were no signs of there being any sort of modifications to the body, or of any sort of symptoms indicative of illnesses, so it was likely that the body was not trapped. Said body resembled a 30-year old Japanese man with a basic grey suit with a violet undershirt and black jeans with black dress shoes, the fire scarring most of his face.

While normally one would have marked this individual as dead, considering the Cape's remarks earlier, it was possible that he possessed some sort of Breaker like Alabaster with the ability to 'revive' himself a set amount of times, though this was merely speculation on her part.

"Report Miss Militia?" Armsmaster asked, having finished tying up the downed Merchants and currently waiting for the PRT Vans to arrive.

"A new Cape dubbed Genm had entered a scene, wearing some sort of violet armor." Miss Militia explained. "I've given him both a Tinker rating and a Breaker rating due to his ability to seemingly create a new body upon death, which the Parahuman has claimed to only occur a limited amount of times."

"Hmm... Any other possible information?"

"Yes, assuming this claim to be accurate," she continued as she pointed towards the wreckage, "then this body may possibly be indicative of his true appearance, though that's assuming any new body his power makes is a exact duplicate like in the case of Oni Lee. If this claim is true, then this may be troubling. While I am unsure of the Cape's standing, he possesses Tinkertech capable of altering the landscape and of knocking Parahumans unconscious with ease without needing to fatally damage them."

"Very well, I'll take this into consideration." Armsmaster said as he looked over the scene. As he did, he could not help but wonder as to what kind of genius would have been gifted with a Power such that they could not only create effective armor while evading capture for so long, if they were new, but with an ability to come back from the dead a set amount of times?

The mad genius grinned as his computer displayed the fine handiwork his Critical Strike had done to the Merchants, the Bugster virus slowly prorogating throughout their body.

A fitting end for such scum was the thought that ran through his head, though fortunately for them he had no intention of letting those Merchants die.

No, with his specialized 'finisher', the virus should reach a point in the near future where eventually the Bugsters will manifest from the bodies, which he can then use as test subjects to test his newly developed Gashats on.

Already, he had determined a candidate that he could have use the particular Gashat he was working on, "Beastmon GO". He grinned as he saw that his plan was coming to fruition.

This world, this Earth Bet... It was clear that without geniuses like him, the world has in a sense regressed to an era of strife and conflict, and that these Shards that fueled their powers have merely further enhanced the chaos of this world.

These so-called villains running amok, these so-called heroes failing in their duties to protect the people, it was clear that the planet needed a wake-up call.

Were he like any other Kamen Rider, then his main reason for doing this would be because its the right thing to do. Unfortunately, that wasn't it at all.

His only reason for helping this world was very simple really.

"As the one that will herald a new era," he said to himself, a constant reminder of his new quest. "I shall soon bring forth a new age of life, one that must be unhindered by these low-level players incapable of seeing the bigger picture. Once I rid this world of its filth, I can truly revolutionize it into a new era! That is the path chosen by I, DAN KUROTO"

[jehbeeeh]

What happens when you are procrastinating with school shit, worry about your grade, and listen to a song about long distance love? Apparently this…

Stony College AU - ~1300 words

~*~*~*~

The brunette stole yet another fry from his plate, making him smile. It was the same song and dance every time. Tony claimed he wasn’t that hungry, got just a plain cheeseburger, and then stole half of Steve’s fries in plain sight. Not that Steve minded or cared, since Tony always ended up paying, even though he was the one doing Steve a favour by tutoring him. But for almost two years now, it was the same game, the same little routine. And Steve was going to miss it. Miss him, mostly.

They finish their lesson, Steve understanding at least half of what Tony explained, which is already better than what he got from the Prof, and they head out. The Spring air is still chilly this early in the season and this late at night. They walk a bit, Tony going on about his year end project – some AI that sounds a million times better than the crap they have on their phones that can never seem to distinguish between half the commands they ask of them. Steve is in awe, as he often is, of his best friend. This smart, sweet, gorgeous guy that would do absolutely anything for his friends. By now, Steve cant even deny it anymore, he’s absolutely in love with him. He isn’t even sure when it happened, but it hit him one day that he was just irrevocably in love with his best friend. But of course, how could he tell him that and risk everything they had. Having Tony in his life this way was better than not at all, right? And he just was not ready to risk that, not when he was fairly sure the feeling wouldn’t be returned.

Steve noticed before Tony even did that he was shivering as he talked. The blond was taking off his jacket and throwing it on Tony’s shoulders, the movement so natural – he’s done it a million times, cause Tony has zero self preservation skills and is never dressed for the weather – that neither of them even stops to acknowledge it, stumbles or stops talking. It just happens, like a thousand times before. But this time, Steve’s heart breaks just a little, because he knows they don’t have many more of these nights left. He knows he has to tell him. Has to sooner rather than later, before Rhodey mentions their conversation to Tony by accident. Or before Bucky does it 100% not by accident. He notices Tony has paused in his explanation, and he takes his chance.

“Hey Tones? I need to tell you something,” Steve starts, shoving his hands in his pockets to try and stop them from… well he isn’t even sure what he thinks he might do, but he knows it would be dumb.

“Of course, what’s up?” the brunette looks up at him.

“First of all, you need to know, this is not your fault, okay? You have no idea how grateful I am for you and you helping me with all those stupid science classes -“

“Science isn’t stupid!” Tony exclaims, unconsciously hugging Steve’s oversized jacket closer to him, and Steve’s stomach just tightens in a knot. He can’t do this…

“No, no. But I’m not exactly bright... Tony, I’m probably losing my scholarship… I’ll have to go back home after this semester,” Steve finally blurts out. It takes him a few steps before he notices Tony has stopped moving and is now behind him, staring incredulously. Steve just looks at him, not moving either.

“What? That’s impossible! You… this can’t be happening,” Tony is mumbling to himself, the knot in Steve’s stomach tightening up at the sight.

“I’m sorry… like I said, this isn’t your fault. I actually, kinda sorta, understand it when you explain it to me. I just can’t seem to apply it and my grade is fucking my whole average.”

“You can’t leave,” is all Tony can say when he finally looks up at Steve, his dark eyes shining with tears.

“I don’t have a choice. Trust me, the last thing I want is to leave…” you. I cant leave you, Steve thinks but cant say out loud. “You know my parents can’t afford this place. And we both knew it was a long shot that I’d survive that first year, let alone the second one. It’ll be fine -”

“No it won’t. Not if you aren’t here,” Tony’s voice is barely audible, thick and wet with emotion. Steve isn’t far behind him with the tears, he hates seeing him like this, especially knowing he caused it.

“You won’t be alone. Rhodey and Pepper will still be here. And Bucky’s not going anywhere, not that you two get along much. You will be fine. I’ll come visit when I can.” He takes a small step forward, but stops himself.

“I can pay your tuition. I can tutor the crap out of you until you pass that exam. Maybe I can transfer to New York, the program is good there too.” Tony is rambling, trying to find solutions, which Steve fully expected.

“Tony, please. We both know none of those are logical. You cant just get your parents to pay some random guy’s tuition. I’d need a perfect score for that option to work. And I will not be the reason the world misses out on the genius that is Tony Stark by letting you change schools. You belong here.”

“Not without you…”

Steve breaks down at that last sentence and closes the gap between them, wrapping the smaller man in his arms, resisting every urge in him that makes him want to card his fingers in his hair, and kiss the top of his head and tell him he loves him.

“Tony, I promise, you’ll be fine. Heck, think of everything you’ll get done now that you don’t have to teach me shit! You’ll be done your AI in a week.”

Tony chuckles, not his usual happy laugh that brightens everything around. There is no joy or happiness in this one, just sadness that Steve feels too.

“Please don’t leave, Steve. Please…” Tony is begging, Steve feels the tears on his sweater and he pulls him in tighter.

“Shhh… don’t cry, Tony. You’ll be fine, I promise, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you, I’ll never leave you. Just need to go back home for a bit, tha’s all. I promise you’ll be ok.” Steve tries to soothe him, resting his forehead on top of Tony’s head as he spoke, and did he just –

“Steve? Did you just call me -?”

“Shit… yeah…” Steve pulls back just enough to look at Tony. “I’m sorry, just forget -“ Steve is cut off by the shorter man throwing his arms around his neck, eyes closed tightly as if that will help give him the courage to do what he’s about to do, and hoisting himself on the tip of his toes to kiss Steve, just a soft press of their lips at first, just enough to see how the other will respond.

Steve looks at Tony as he opens his eyes. The blond is speechless, mouth gaping slightly, as he feels the knot in his stomach unravel and get replaced with pure warmth and want and happiness. He smiles as he pulls Tony in for another kiss, soft and slow and sweet, like he had dreamt of doing so many times. He cant keep his hands from roaming, one coming up to card through the brown curls, pulling him in tighter, kissing him more fiercely. When they finally pull back for air, minutes that feel like a lifetime later, Tony rests his forehead on Steve’s chest as they both catch their breaths.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” Steve confesses.

“Same,” he hears Tony say, and he finally gets to kiss the top of his head, nuzzling the soft brown hair in the process.

“I promise we’ll be ok, sweetheart. You won’t get rid of me that easily, even if I have to move back to New York. You’re stuck with me.” And Steve planned to hold that promise for everything it was worth. He was never letting Tony go.

[linkspooky]

Where do you think Norman's arc will go from now (that he's met Emma and Ray)? Also, how do you think the story will end?

So, the two most important facts about Norman’s arc is that one, he’s the character of the trio between Ray and Emma with the least flaws, and two the majority of his arc has taken place offscreen. This is not a criticism, this is pointing out where the subversion with his character is going to come from. 

So when analyzing Norman you have to take into account that both Ray, and Emma sort of believe Norman to have been the best of the group. Even if Emma is the moral fiber, it was Norman who did the vast majority of the planning for the escape. That was why Norman was taken away from them in the first place, for story purposes it was to show that it was in fact not all Norman which led to their success and both Ray and Emma are strong and capable in their own right. In the end all three of them are equals with equal capabilities. 

However, the fact that Norman was taken from them and that he also chose to sacrifice himself resulted in both Ray and Emma sort of putting Norman on a pedestal. Especially when it came into terms with their perception of him and their assessment of themselves. While it makes sense for them to remember him in an idealized light when he sacrificed himself, now that it turns out he’s actually lived Norman the real person is going to compete with the image of Norman both of them have been carrying around this entire time in order to motivate their actions. 

Norman not only put the finishing touches on him and Emma’s plan while knowing that he would die soon, but he also correctly predicted Ray’s actions and told Emma how to save him. 

When they’re escaping, as he watches the scene in front of him Ray hallucinates Norman for a moment to come to terms with the reality of the situation. Norman also speaks what are probably just Ray’s own feelings on Emma that he himself can’t admit and can only see coming out of Norman’s mouth.

In the second arc when Emma has a near death experience after being shot, it’s Norman that she imagines as the one who stops her from falling and also swims up with her back to the surface. It’s his image that literally guides her back to life. Except, we know Norman is not a ghost that can magically appear to either of the two at the time because he’s still alive in both cases. 

The trio is an extremely tight knit family, and they all believe in each other’s strengths of course, but of the trio we’re shown the least of Norman’s flaws, and that makes sense as both Ray and Emma admire him so much and this story is mainly told from the perspective of the children. Norman sort of becomes the symbol of their survival and escape, even though technically it’s never been Norman from the start, it was always Emma’s ideals of saving everyone, of escaping with their whole family that guided them and Norman was the one most driven to make those ideals a reality out of his love for Emma. 

Not only do the characters in the story treat Norman as a symbol though, now Norman himself has taken on the role of a symbol leaving his original name aside and calling himself William Minerva instead. Someone who was a literal symbol, because he was a made up person that James Ratri created to inspire children to escape from the plantation system.

In the first chapter we’re reintroduced to Norman and his situation as posing as Minerva the entire chapter he’s drawn without a face while all of his followers for the most part are detailed. This is more than just to preserve the twist that Norman has taken to posing as William Minerva. It’s also symbolic of what Norman is doing, he’s casting his own identity aside and forcing himself to play a role which he thinks will be of greater benefit to everybody else in the long run. 

He’s playing the role of an idealized hero, a children’s fairy tale hero when he still is just a child himself. 

So, a lot of Norman’s role in the story is concealed but there’s some very important hints to take from the introduction of his character. While Emma is the ain character, remember it was originally Norman who was introduced as the supporting male lead, the one who found out about Connie at the same time, the one who promised to escape with Emma at the same time. It was originally Norman who made the promise to escape together with Emma.

And eventually instead it became Ray who escaped with Emma, while Norman sacrificed himself intending to die and be eaten there. What happened instead was a reversal of their situations. Ray had Emma, and the rest of his family as support while enduring the hardships of the next year, whereas Norman endured it all alone.

Norman had only one accomplice and even that person he failed to protect them during his escape, which he had to figure out how to escape from an entirely second plantation all on his own. 

What I’m pointing at here is Norman is originally set up as the supporting character to Emma and the main one at her side, but he gets separated from her for the vast majority of the time after the first arc, and not only that but afterwards Norman had to endure a bunch of trauma all alone. His response to that however, has been to ascend to a position of power instead and make himself out to be the savior of the neverland, rather than showing any signs of being a traumatized kid who has been separated from his two closest friends and the rest of his family for a year and a half and forced through terrible human experimentation alone. 

Now finally, returning again to the opening chapters, what exactly is Norman’s main flaw? Ray’s is his tendency to always rely on sacrifices, both himself and others and his willingness to dirty his hands, which combines with a low self image he has viewing himself as worth less than his two friends because of what he was willing to do and the guilt he had already carried. Emma’s flaw and strength are one in the same, her naivete and willingness to believe in others puts her in reckless danger but it also allows her to take paths that nobody else would try to take to save everyone, and also to not give up in circumstances where most others would give up. Emma is vulnerable and she constantly exposes herself to danger and that’s not something that can be brushed off easily in a world that’s constantly trying to kill them, but also it means that he wearing her vulnerability on her sleeve makes her the most emotionally developed and the empathic of the other two boys and because of that she’s able to easily imagine the situations of others and constantly tries to offer them to join her side. It’s Emma’s unrealistic dreams that drive the three to try to make the world into a better place.

Then, where are Norman’s flaws in that? In a way Norman seems to strike a perfect balance between the two. He’s calculating and cunning like Ray, and yet at the same time he also is somebody who wants to hold up Emma’s ideals. Even in the first chapter, Ray demonstrates that Norman has a critical thing when it comes to thinking that Emma is lacking. 

Norman’s the smartest of the three, Ray can compete with Norman in terms of brains but he’s the most well studied. Ray even says so later that it’s not like he has raw genius he just studied his hardest even though he hated studying because he wanted to be a tasty meal that he could deny the demons. and Emma of the three is the most flexible because she’s constantly changing her ideals. 

Also, not only that but the first tag match in the first chapter ends with a one on one battle between Norman and Emma. Which is clear foreshadowing that while Norman and Emma start out as each other’s closest ally, and Norman as Emma’s supporting male lead that eventually the two are going to disagree with each other and probably have to compete with each other which is why Norman was separated from the plot for so long and so much of him still remains a mystery. 

In the 4th chapter, Norman gets some more foreshadowing to establish his flaws. The first thing is Norman mentions over and over again his main motiation is Emma, who Norman sees as a better person than him. (This is a theme with the trio gosh guys stop comparing yourselves to each other). Norman feels guilty for being scared only of his own life when Emma was crying not for herself but for the sake of her family. From that moment forward he swore to be the one to bring Emma’s ideals into reality no matter how far fetched they are.

Norman’s actually more logical and more driven by cold blooded reason than Ray, however Norman doesn’t wish to be like that so he makes most of his actions for Emma’s sake rather than following his own ideals. Norman’s statements in chapter four are rife with foreshadowing. 

“I’ll use myself to accomplish it.” “I’ve always managed to accomplish what I set out to do.” “So, what are you going to do? Emma and I are insane. We’ve completely lost it.” 

All of these statements which seem perfectly innocent at the time because they’re a part of Norman’s speech to motivate Ray, and his declaration of Love for Emma, but they’re also words in a different context that could take a much darker turn. The Promised Neverland tends to play the long game when it came to foreshadowing, reveals about the demons taking on the characteristics of what they eat that became relevant this arc were foreshadowed as early as the Goldy Pond arc where one demon ate the brains of another and then started to hear two voices in its head instead of just its own. 

“I’ll do anything…” is a recurring theme for Norman. 

At which point I must mention, the difference between Norman and Ray’s flaws. Ray is a pragmatist, he believes sacrifices are necessary and is willing to dirty his own hands to make those sacrifices. The difference in the flaw then lies in the ideals. Ray is a pragmatist, whereas Norman is still an idealist because he believes in Emma’s ideals to this day. Whereas Ray makes sacrifices for the sake of survival and accomplishing realistic goals, Norman’s flaw is that he’ll sacrifice to bring Emma’s lofty ideals into reality. He’ll do it for the sake of ideals.

And as early as the first arc, Norman is referred to as willing to do “Anything”. However, that was when Norman was surrounded by his family and in a much mentally healthier situation, so his definition of “Anything” has probably changed between then and now.

See Norman’s flaw is that his ideals aren’t his own, they’re Emma’s. Not only that, Norman is constantly criticizing himself for not being as selfless as Emma is in his eyes. Which is not really fair criticism that Norman is levying on himself, for example he gets upset when he a child gets afraid of dying. 

He has trouble seeing with himself individually as a person, and dealing with his own weakness. Especially when he’s usually relied upon to be the level headed one of the three, the best of the three, the leader of the three, etc. etc. And his way of coping with his feelings of powerlessness in those situations is to go back to tactics. 

So, when Norman gets more and more upset he tends to instead of working through those feelings buckle down and see everything as pieces on the board. He believes absolutely in every situation he can overcome with tactics and making use of everything around him. Not only that his appointed task is not even for himself and his own ideas but rather to make Emma’s dreams a reality because Norman doesn’t see himself as good of a person as he sees Emma as. 

So, right away that’s a combination of 1) Norman having a natural tendency to go to extremes especially when it comes to using people, situations, and everything present to get what he wants out of a situation. and 2) somebody who adheres himself to ideals and is intensely dedicated to bringing those ideals into reality even if those ideals are not his own. 

So, it’s easy to see why after being isolated from his two moral compasses and then traumatized in a child experimentation lab, that Norman’s way of dealing with this trauma and turning it into something productive another piece on the board has been to completely shed away his own identity as pose as someone else (Norman doesn’t really believe he’s a good person like Emma is), that person being the lofty ideal of William Minerva rather than an actual person, and two once again saying that he’s doing all of this to bring Emma’s ideals into reality. 

Neither of these things are necessarily harmful on their own. WHen they’re together Norman and Emma make a good team, Emma being the one who makes the ideals and Norman the one who wants to use strategy and tactics to bring them to life. However, Norman has been separted from Emma for a long time and making these decisions all on his own, and there’s been a clear case in escalation in the stakes Norman is dealing with.

The first thing he does in the chapter he’s reintroduced in is burn a platnation to the ground with the comatose mass production children still inside. I’m not going to discuss the ethics of this, but Norman himself feels guilty for not being able to save those children which shows the weight he’s currently taking on his shoulders and the decisions he’s making. 

So Norman in the year he’s been apart from his family has gone from, “I want all my family members to escape alive” to “Burn everything down to the ground and rebuild a paradise from the lost ashes”. I’m not making a moral judgement on Norman’s philosophy, especially since he’s rebelling against a fundamentally corrupt system based on child murder and human farming, however, his views are extreme and they’ve only become more extreme the more pressure he’s put on himself to carry out those ideals for every child he takes in.

So then you have the breakdown of the trio again. Emma, the reckless idealist, Ray the pragmatist, and Norman the extremist. Norman is now the most  in the know, and the one of the group with the most resources but that doesn’t mean Emma and Ray are going to go along with him and follow out his plan. 

Otherwise, the story would have been split up on focusing between Norman and Ray + Emma on their journey to reunite with one another. However, there’s one important thing to notice about this latest chapter. 

Norman talks about again in front of Emma that all he wants is to make her dream come true, living with her family and being able to care for them in a world that’s not actively trying to kill them. This brings a smile to Emma’s face.

Then Norman says that he’s been preparing all this time to make Emma’s dream a reality, and not only after losing their base does he have a plant to do it, but he also has resources, contacts, and measures in place to carry it out. It sounds too good to be true, after losing their hideout and Yugo and Lucas, they find Norman again and the same old Norman who seems to have everything figured out and only wants the best or his family. 

Yet, this is what Norman suggests.

Genocide, to simply wipe out all the demons and make this second world a paradise for humans, because if all the demons were gone there would be no reason to feed on humans anymore. And the author even takes the time to panel out Emma’s changing reaction, from a smile, to a hesitant face, to a slow look of horror. 

This isn’t what Emma wants to do. Norman’s strayed far from Emma’s ideals in his methodology. Emma is going to reject his answer, because Genocide of an intelligent species is a net wrong no matter what ends you’re trying to accomplish with those means. 

The kids have been killing demons all along, but can they really kill every single demon in order to build a world better for them? When things such as child demons and demons families exist? That’s what is weighing on Emma’s face. Her ideals are clashing finally with Norman’s need to go to extremes to bring those ideals into a reality and it’s going to cause a conflict between the two of them. That’s what’s registering on her face right now as Norman says with complete confidence all they need to do is wipe out every last demon to get the happy ending they want. 

That’s the direction I think Norman’s arc will go from now on! Thank you for sending the ask, anon. 

[youngerdaniel]

Youngo’s 2019 at the Movies (with Baby Yoda)

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN, FOLKS...

Wherein this blog crawls out of the woodwork with fresh aspirations for a more consistent content strategy in the year to come. Like a Baby Yoda emerging from his floating iron egg to great the sun. So let’s dust off some cobwebs and talk about the great movies that came out in 2019.

BRIEF UPDATES FROM THE WAFFLER This year marked a turning point. No, not that fucking decade that everybody’s making a big deal about. Not even that I hit 30 but thankfully have most of my (still not totally gray) hair... Nope, I went into business for myself. I leapt off the stable lily pad of 9-5 etc. and went freelance! Life’s been full of stories since then -- both the kind I write, and the kind I get to look under the hood on. I’m happy to report I’ve written more than ever before... Just not blogs, and mostly stuff I’m not at liberty to discuss.

*Clears throat. Pulls up the collar on his trench coat.* And I may have had more hair turn gray. Turns out, running your own ship is quite a bit of work, especially when you’re teaching yourself how the hell you do it. Nevertheless, I loved the shit out of every minute of it, and I still use phrases like nevertheless. It could easily be a blog (or several) for a different time, but the short and easy explanation of the absence is I was busy, it was fun, get over it. 

Besides, we don’t actually care about whatever lame excuse I have for why I haven’t been posting. We’re here because it’s 2020 and time for a listicle, dammit! This one is neither definitive nor ranked. But dang if 2019′s fodder didn’t come sauntering into theaters like the big chuckling cherub of Christmas Present, with a cornucopia of awesomeness. 

THINGS I LOVED, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

UNDER THE SILVER LAKE David Robert Mitchell’s neo noir takes a fittingly existential approach to detective fiction. An enigmatic case, hidden clues and coded pop culture, Andrew Garfield’s charmingly hapless sleuth... There’s a lot to love in this weird soup of a movie. At times nightmarish, often trippy, and an excellent performance from a parrot. Late night fodder.

CLIMAX Gaspar Noe does not make sane movies. With Climax, there’s a hypnotic quality that sucks you in and drags you along on its nightmarish journey as a group of dancers drink from a punchbowl laced with drugs. The result is absolute bedlam, and everything from the lighting to the camerawork pulls its weight to put you into the action. This is the kind of thing you watch and marvel that, “Wow, they went there.” to varying degrees of satisfaction. Like a freight train barreling toward the side of a mountain, it’s hard to look away even though you know you probably should. 

JOJO RABBIT And then there’s a different kind of madness. The movie that billed itself as “The movie that shouldn’t work.” Jojo Rabbit is so full of heart. This is Taika Waititi in full force, and hilarity meets real pathos. Love is better than Nazis. It’s a simple message, and I think it doesn’t need to be much more. The relevance of such a narrative in our time is pretty disappointing, but the truth seems to be that we need ones like this to come along and remind the collective. The mashup of humor with genuine drama is balanced in a way that will feel familiar to fans of THE HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE or BOY. The performances are superb, and it’s a beautiful looking film. If you missed it last year, start the new one off right and amend this problem.

US The thing I dug the most about US was how unique it felt. Original premises in horror are on the rise, and there’s no denying the man leading the wave is Jordan Peele. The social commentary elements of this followup to GET OUT play with a little more subtlety, and in some ways it almost felt like a stronger move... But I refuse to compare the two of them. US stands out in its own right, and carries some of the most memorable performances of the year. A twisting narrative that crackles with tension, and a concept that haunts the imagination. What if your every action had an equal an opposite effect on a mirrored version of yourself? A study on the impact of the class system, and a nightmarish what-if to explain the real life series of underground tunnels that span the United States. Also, that costume design! That Alexa gag! The way this one opens up at the midpoint was such a delight in the theater. I’d apologize for spoilers, but let’s be real... You’ve seen this movie.

AD ASTRA Best summed up as “Daddy Issues in Space,” AD ASTRA feels like the kind of sci-fi mysteries that were made in the late 70s and 80s. A spellbinding journey to the far edges of the galaxy to save the world, and maybe prove that aliens exist. Oh, and to stop your possibly insane father from destroying the human race on the way. Brad Pitt is on fire, and everything about this potent emotional journey remains focused on his character’s dilemma of deciding whether or not his father was a good man, what it means to him and his own isolated existence, and whether he can overcome that shit and live a life instead of taking risks. From its opening scene to its closing one, this one blends gripping life-or-death set-pieces exploring the dangers of space travel and the cyclical nature of humanity’s progress with small moments. The journey, the heart-wrenching climax, and the harrowing trip home is well worth the rental fee. Check it out.

THE GIRL ON THE THIRD FLOOR

Some horror movies exist to make you think, some exist to cover their protagonists in black goo, subject them to grueling physical and psychological lament, and chuck ‘em through a woodchipper for good measure. The Girl on the Third Floor takes your average premise of “Stubborn and troubled guy picks a fixer-upper house to flip, only to discover horrors beyond his imagining” and leans hard into the gross-outs and festering boils of body horror. Reminiscent of Evil Dead, Amityville, and Dead Alive, there’s so much insanity to love, and the movie makes some big turns -- some surprising, some daring, some a little out there. It is by no means perfect, but it’s got a charm about its rough edges. You will never look at a marble the same way again.

I LOST MY BODY

I know. “A life-affirming work” left me a little skeptical too. But from its very first frame, I LOST MY BODY is arresting. Its hypnotic narrative follows the story of a severed hand in search of its owner, and has great fun carrying you along with its troubled protagonist’s journey from a crush to obsession. The sheer amount of visual storytelling and striking imagery is worth the runtime, but for any arthouse lovers feeling a little too chilled to hop down to the nearest indie theatre can open a new tab and have at it. Didn’t expect to be as moved by this one as I was, and for that I must recommend it.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME The fact that a movie like this can even exist is pretty amazing, and I have to say, as the culmination to the Avengers saga as we know it, ENDGAME delivered something with way more heart and character than I expected. Funny, sad, bittersweet, and massively satisfying. This is the Thanksgiving Turkey dinner of movies. It’s got everything. But the best part for me was how little fighting the big superhero finale of the decade had to it. Firmly rooted in character, taking ambitious and surprising turns in their trajectories, and balancing the fanwanks with a genuinely exciting story. I mean, c’mon. Time heist? A Greatest Hits play that also recontextualizes a few of the lesser films of the sweeping franchise? The third act battle felt a little tacked-on, but the conclusion felt like exactly what we needed. 

READY OR NOT I love this movie. Love it like an adorable, scrappy friend who always manages to make their social commentary entertaining. Hide and Seek turns deadly for a bride to be when she meets her future in-laws, the proprietors of a board game company that takes their product very seriously. A darkly funny survive-the-gauntlet-till-morning ride. Great characters. Awesome kills. A few really unexpected and delightfully devilish turns. Oh, and it takes a stab at privilege and how far some people are willing to go to preserve theirs. It’s got teeth, a mean bite, and it’s fun to walk around the neighborhood. If you liked YOU’RE NEXT, you will probably love this movie. I still can’t get its final few moments out of my head. And I mean that in the best way.

PARASITE Speaking of social criticism and privilege, there’s no denying the brute fucking force of PARASITE. Following a struggling family who imbed themselves into a rich family by posing as the help, this madcap game of suspense takes so many surprising turns that even describing the full plot spoils the fun. Go into this one having read as little as possible. It will take you for a spin. Part con movie, part social critique, part comedy and part tragedy, it’s a lot to digest, but it’s a damned tasty treat. 

KNIVES OUT In a word, it’s fun. Rian Johnson’s locked room murder mystery packs some wonderful barbs in the side of affluence, armchair activism, and the corruptive nature of wealth. A wealthy novelist is found dead, and all of his family members have motive... But don’t let the familiar set-up fool you, KNIVES OUT plays fair with its audience, but it is a fast runner. The story jumps ahead of you almost every time you think you’ve got it figured out. Daniel Craig’s genius sleuth is full of likable energy, protagonist Marta is full of layers, and the family are all such a pleasure to watch. Several times along the trip, I had no idea where the story would turn next, or how much further the envelope could be pushed, but by the end, I came out marveling at its construction. The production design is unreal. The direction and vibe are so unique, and by the closing image, it’s nearly impossible not to enjoy the shift in values. There’s also a speech involving donuts that I will be reciting at parties for the foreseeable future.

DANIEL ISN’T REAL

I closed off the year with this wildly inventive take on the possession trope. This. Movie. Is. Nuts. Which, considering it was produced by the same folks who did MANDY, shouldn’t come as a surprise. A mind-bending tale that riffs on Jekyll and Hyde, with a great modernization tackling the concept from a mental health perspective... It’s not the first time it’s been done, but the execution is just excellent. We follow a disturbed young man whose imaginary friend hatched from a childhood trauma makes a devilish return to play hell with his adult life. It’s a psychological horror that’s FIGHT CLUB meets THE DOUBLE. Great look. Excellent creature design and visuals for a cosmic horror that makes great use of low budget devices. If you’re looking for the answer to the age old question of “Should my third act involve my protagonist battling his inner demons literally with a rooftop sword fight?” You’ve found your contender.

I’ll tell you this, reader friend. The hardest part about 2019′s slate at the box office was deciding what to see. There were so many interesting movies that came out, brimming with big ideas and social commentary. Sad as the state of the world is, there’s no denying times of unrest have a knack for yielding great art. The Trump era has made its stamp on Hollywood for better or for worse. But the rising tide of voices pushing back give me a bit of hope, and a lot of salve for the whole existential dread thing. I think that, however small it is, is good.

For what it’s worth, none of these films are reinventing the wheel or burning flags... But they are asking questions. Okay, CLIMAX, really isn’t asking anything, but it is fun as hell. There’s just as much merit in the salve as there is in the flame that caused the burn.  So may your 2020 be full of entertainment. I’ll try to get some useful content up here at least every couple of months in smaller digestible forms. Now go forth and brunch, you hungover, resolution-breaking slob.

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien Drabble: Nachtmusik Chapter Five

A Little Night Music (Eine Kleine Nachtmusik) Chapter Five: ...the more they change.

(Okay, this actually takes place during Jabberwocky when Adrien is eighteen and a half and Luka is almost twenty-one. It takes place in August, two months after Chapter Twenty-Six: Boy of There’s a Daisy. Sorry if it’s a little confusing. I debated whether to post this or not. :/ I hope you enjoy it.)

Luka blinked.

Was that…? It was. Adrien Agreste at the bar with his back to the stage, chatting with Raoul the bartender.

Adrien Agreste wearing black leather pants with buckles up the thighs.

A primal shudder darted up Luka’s spine as Adrien shifted his weight.

He had such a nice—

“—You have a girlfriend,” Luka’s shoulder angel reminded him.

Luka looked over to where Marinette was laughing at something Mylène had said.

“A girlfriend who’s only dating you as a rebound because things with Adrien exploded,” Luka’s shoulder devil weighed in, having a less-than-positive effect on Luka’s self-esteem.

Objectively, Luka knew he should finish packing up his stuff and go sit with his girlfriend while the other bands played. He knew that increasing his proximity to Adrien wearing those pants was just asking for trouble, but…

Whereas Marinette would say something encouraging like, “You guys were wonderful! I really liked that third song. It was super intense”, Adrien would look at Luka in awe and breathe, “Did you write that third song? It was amazing! I loved the tension you built using those tritones. I could feel it mounting in my chest”.

Luka appreciated Marinette, he really did, but…he felt appreciated by Adrien, and he was really more in the mood for Adrien-style praise that evening. Pushing his reservations aside, Luka made his way over to his personal siren.

“Here he comes,” Raoul whispered to Adrien.

Adrien sucked in an anxious breath. “How do I look?”

Raoul snickered despite himself. “You’re golden, Dollface. He’s been staring at you the past two minutes trying to make up his mind to come over here, and now he’s taking the bait. All you have to do is reel him in.”

Adrien blew out a sigh of relief.

Raoul frowned. “Why did you two ever break up in the first place? You were disgustingly adorable two years ago.”

Adrien debated correcting Raoul’s assumption but eventually decided that it wasn’t worth it. “My father,” Adrien sighed. “He found out and made threats, and it was really ugly. I was scared, so I didn’t stick it out, and I didn’t put up a fight like Luka wanted to…. I was weak, and I…I was a stupid kid who didn’t realize he already had everything he’d always wanted.”

Raoul chuckled softly, a deep rumble like thunder rolling over the mountains. “Just do better this time.” He waved at Luka over Adrien’s shoulder and turned to go.

“Hey, Ariel.” Luka wore a besotted grin as he came up next to Adrien. He shoved his hands into his own back pockets so that he wouldn’t be tempted to try to put them into Adrien’s. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. Thanks for coming.”

“Hey, Orpheus,” Adrien greeted warmly, slowly turning to give Luka his most inviting smile.

In spite of his best intentions, Luka took note of Adrien’s lip gloss shimmering in the atmospheric, low light of the bar and absentmindedly wondered what Adrien’s smile tasted like.

“The photoshoot let out in time, so I thought I’d drop by,” Adrien was saying, angling his body towards Luka’s and stepping in a little closer, presumably to be heard over the din of the next band taking the stage. “I’m glad I did because tonight was spectacular. I can really tell which songs you wrote.” His voice dropped into a purr. “The third song tonight was genius. I loved the way you used the unresolved tritones to ratchet up the intensity. It reminded me of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony when he musically depicted his own impending heart attack. Your song gave me chills.”

Luka grinned, bruised self-esteem making a comeback with a little attention from Adrien. Why couldn’t Marinette say things like that?

“It’s not her fault she doesn’t have the musical vocabulary to stroke your ego. She says plenty of nice things about you and your work,” the shoulder angel reasoned.

“Well, I can’t deny my indebtedness to Mahler,” Luka admitted, “but I’m glad you found my approach enjoyable.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so humble. We’re all musically indebted to Mozart and Beethoven and Berlioz and Debussy. What’s important is what you do with your musical inheritance, and you just slipped classically-inspired musical themes into a rock song. I bow down to your creativity and knack for innovation.” Adrien dipped into a dramatic bow.

Luka laughed, taking his hands out of his pockets to pull Adrien back up. “Oh, please. Stop. You’re going to make me conceited.”

“You have every right to be,” Adrien insisted, hand coming to rest on Luka’s upper arm and squeezing gently. “You’re amazing.”

The breathless way Adrien said it stole the air from Luka’s lungs.

Luka gulped as his eyes locked with Adrien’s. “Yeah?”

When had they gotten so close?

Adrien ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Yeah.” His right hand came to rest on Luka’s hip, and his thumb started to stroke rhythmically, hypnotically.

“Hey,” Adrien breathed.

“Hm?” Luka answered distractedly.

“You’re done for the night, right? Wanna go somewhere else?” Adrien tempted. “Maybe take a walk…head back to your place…jam a little…. It’s been forever since we last had a sleepover.”

Luka’s mind fell down a flight of stairs.

That…sounded exactly like what Luka wanted to do. It would be just like before, before they’d been torn apart…. Only, it wouldn’t. Whereas the flirting and the tension between them had been innocent and subtle and beneath the surface two years prior, this, now—with Adrien’s thumb stroking Luka’s hip and the look in Adrien’s eyes and the leather pants clinging to Adrien’s skin—this was not subtle or innocent. This was overt, surface-level sexual tension. 

Adrien was no longer oblivious to the attraction between them. He was no longer questioning his sexuality or unsure of himself. Adrien was seducing him. On purpose. Adrien was picking him up. Adrien was asking to spend the night.

Mentally, Luka let out a string of curses. Two years ago, Luka would have seriously considered killing for this moment. Now? He didn’t know what to do with it. Was this a whim of Adrien’s or something lasting? Things had blown up between Adrien and Marinette…whom they were both in love with. Adrien had told Luka the details, told him how he was a mess emotionally, told him about the ups and downs of the year he’d been having mental health-wise. Was Adrien’s attraction to Luka any different than Marinette’s? Was Adrien using him too?

Luka took a step back.

Adrien’s eyes widened. His head tipped to the side questioningly.

Luka shook his head.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this to himself. He had to set up boundaries and protect his heart from those two. He had to preserve the friendships in hopes that someday either the man or the woman he loved would be emotionally healthy enough for a real relationship with him.

“I can’t,” Luka replied with an easy smile that cost him an incredible amount of energy to maintain. “Not tonight. Maybe some other day. Tonight, Marinette and the gang are here, and I’m supposed to be hanging out with them. I have to walk Marinette home.”

Disappointment was evident on Adrien’s face. “Oh. Okay.”

“Some other day, Ariel,” Luka assured, using the nickname to remind himself of the danger of the temptation.

Adrien nodded, fiddling with his ring. “So, I guess you have to go then? Or can I buy you a drink and gush about how talented you are a little?”

Luka bit his lip. Tempting, tempting, tempting. “Why don’t you come join us?” he suggested, knowing he would be sure to behave in front of the others.

“Who’s here?” Adrien craned his neck, looking for his acquaintances.

“Over there.” Luka pointed.

Adrien frowned, mentally sizing up the assembly: Juleka (actively opposed to Adrien getting close to Luka again), Mylène (skeptical of Adrien after the events of the year), Rose (an ally), Ivan (indifferent to the conflict but likely to side with Mylène), Alya (would kill him if she knew what was going on in his head), Marinette (…), Nino (compromised, caught in the middle). Not the most friendly crowd, and he would have to watch Marinette and Luka being couple-y together.

Adrien wasn’t sure what would be worse: watching Marinette fawn over Luka or watching Luka melt for Marinette. Both prospects sounded…honestly, like torture. It had been almost two months since Adrien had learned that they were dating, but…losing them to one another hadn’t gotten any easier, especially since he had started to understand his feelings for Luka.

“I don’t think I want to intrude on group date night.” Adrien smiled softly, letting a bit of the pain slip onto his lips unintentionally.

Luka frowned. “Group date night?”

“It’s all couples. I’d be the odd man out,” Adrien explained, keeping the smile in place with some effort.

Luka’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Adrien shrugged unhappily. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, it was great getting to hear you play. Have fun with…with the others,” Adrien offered in parting, turning back to lean on the bar.

Luka blinked rapidly. “Wait. What are you going to do?”

“Oh, probably just get a drink, hang around for a little while, see if anyone asks me to dance. I don’t really feel like being alone at the moment, so going home to mope around by myself is out,” Adrien answered honestly.

Luka rested an elbow on the bar, his body bracketing Adrien’s. “Is there someone else you could call to hang out with? I don’t really like the idea of you drinking by yourself and getting hit on by strangers.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” Adrien assured with a small but genuine grin as he met Luka’s eyes. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“How can I help worrying about you?” Luka sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You make it so easy. You don’t handle alcohol well, and you drink too much without thinking when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset. Just a little melancholy.” Adrien shrugged. “Look, I swear I’m not trying to manipulate you into spending time with me. I’m actually okay, and I’m going to be okay having one drink and dancing with some random people and getting myself home. You don’t need to stress over it unless the real problem is you not liking the idea of me dancing with other people. I’ve got Plagg and Nooroo with me; I’ll be fine. If I’m not, they’ll make sure someone knows. So don’t let me ruin your evening. Go hang out with your friends…with your girlfriend. I’m sure they’re waiting for you.”

Luka bit his lip hard. “They can wait a little longer. I mean, I don’t have to go right this second. Didn’t you offer to buy me a drink and stroke my ego for a bit? I’m thirsty and could use the attention.”

Adrien gave a snorted laugh. “I could make so many jokes right now. Everything from ‘I don’t do quickies’ to ‘buy me dinner first’, but seeing as you have the sweetest, most giving girlfriend on the face of the planet, I will assume that your needs are being more than satisfied—”

“—You’d be surprised,” Luka thought darkly.

“—and skip the suggestive banter. I’d be happy to buy you a drink while I rave about your creative genius, though,” Adrien replied with a smirk.

Luka briefly contemplated remarking on how it really ground down your self-confidence and made you feel undesirable fast when your girlfriend always gave you her cheek when you tried to kiss her and looked incredibly uncomfortable when you told her you loved her. Luka wondered what Adrien would do with that information.

Adrien signaled for the bartender. “Raoul, could I please have a Pink Squirrel and…” He turned expectantly to Luka.

“Scotch. Splash of water, please.”

“Coming right up,” Raoul confirmed.

Luka raised an eyebrow at Adrien. “Pink Squirrel? Forgive me, but are you positive that you’re straight?”

“Rude.” Adrien kicked Luka in the ankle and stuck out his tongue. “I don’t believe in labels…and my drink preferences have nothing to do with whether or not I sleep with guys.”

Luka held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. That was in poor taste. I should know better.”

Adrien bit his lip. “…I think I’ve been guilty of worse, so I’m inclined to give you a get out of jail free card this time.”

“Your magnanimity is much appreciated,” Luka assured with a slight dip of his head.

“You’d better appreciate it.” Adrien rolled his eyes and smirked. “Next time, I’m making you grovel.”

“And it will serve me right.” Luka gave another bob of his head.

“Right,” Adrien affirmed. “…And while we’re on the subject, it’s not my fault that I like dessert-y drinks. I never get dessert.”

“Fair,” Luka agreed.

“I can’t help it that I like a little sugar with my alcohol,” Adrien continued in his own defence.

“Rather, you like a little alcohol with your sugar,” Luka snickered, feeling like they were back on solid enough ground to joke.

Adrien steamrolled forward, looking off to the side. “…just like I can’t help if there are certain boys I’d like to kiss.”

Luka’s brain stopped working. Did Adrien just…? Did Adrien mean…?

And, if so, what was Luka supposed to do with that?

Before Luka could really process that revelation, Adrien pressed on, “Besides, it’s Rose’s fault for introducing me to Pink Squirrels. Also, something Rose told me: apparently, it’s possible to be something called ‘biromantic’ while still being heterosexual…. And that’s as much as I think I should blurt out without having ‘I’m drunk’ as an excuse. But there you go; cards on the table,” Adrien spit out rapidly, twisting his ring round and round his finger. “Let’s talk about something else. I said I was going to talk your ear off about what a great musician you are, didn’t I? Has anyone told you how wonderful you are today?” The words spewed out of Adrien’s mouth, and Luka struggled to keep up.

“Wait.” Luka placed a hand on Adrien’s upper arm.

Adrien turned his head to smile the fakest, most personable smile he had in him. “How’s your girlfriend doing? I haven’t talked to her much lately,” he inquired civilly, as if speaking to a business acquaintance at a cocktail party.

Luka groaned softly in frustration.

Raoul approached and looked like he was about to say something teasingly, but he felt the mood between the two from a meter away and thought better of it, setting their drinks on the counter with a cordial nod.

“Oh, look,” Adrien observed cheerily. “Something to put in my mouth to shut me up.”

Luka choked on air as inappropriate suggestions rose in his mind.

“Before I destroy everything,” Adrien added under his breath, but then his joviality was back.

“I drink to you.” Adrien lifted his glass to Luka with a practiced smile covering his internal panic. He looked away and began to sip at the pink concoction.

“So…we’re not going to talk about this?” Luka sighed, ignoring his scotch for the time being.

Adrien shrugged. “What?—Here? Now? No. I’m supposed to be talking about your music for a bit before you have to go back to your girlfriend. Besides, there’s nothing to talk about,” he answered a touch sullenly down into his drink.

“You just told me you wanted to kiss me,” Luka laughed, on the brink of hysteria but covering it up brilliantly. “And we’re not going to discuss that?”

“I never said I wanted to kiss you,” Adrien corrected, still not looking at Luka. “I said I couldn’t help it if I wanted to kiss certain boys. I was talking about Nino.”

Luka’s mind ground to a sudden halt as he tried to figure out if that was true or merely a diversion.

“Because I’m a home-wrecking slut,” Adrien laughed with a sweet smile that proved jarring in its juxtaposition with the words it accompanied.

Luka’s hand squeezed Adrien’s arm tighter. “No, you’re not.”

“Fine,” Adrien relented. “I’m an aspiring home-wrecking slut. I guess I can’t claim the title until I actually wreck something, but…I want to wreck them. Isn’t that bad enough?”

Part of Luka’s mind thought that, yes, this was very, very bad indeed. Adrien wasn’t looking for a relationship. As per usual, he was seeking affection and attention, and he was coming back to where he’d found it in abundance two years prior…but, this time, Luka’s supply couldn’t meet Adrien’s demand. It was a tricky situation, and Luka could tell that between Marinette and Adrien, his own heart was going to walk out of this one in tatters…if it could walk at all once those two were done with it.

Still….

“What if Nino wants you to kiss him?”

Adrien slowly turned an incredulous glare on Luka. “Please don’t patronize me. Why the hell would Nino want to kiss me? He’s in a relationship with the girl of his dreams. He’s been crazy in love with his girlfriend for years. Why would he risk messing that up for me?”

“…You still don’t think you’re worth anything, do you?” Luka realized, his stomach going sour.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously, I’m athletic, and, on the outside, I’m gorgeous, but inside I’m a monster. I’m not worthless, but I’m sure as hell not going to get picked over Mar—over Alya.”

“Angel,” Luka whispered, conveying so much meaning in so few syllables.

Adrien looked up, his heart fluttering at the old nickname. He’d been “Ariel” in the months since their reunion. It had been a long time since Luka had called him Angel or Perfect Fifth in that tender, all-embracing way of his.

“Adrien,” Luka corrected. “You are not the monster. The monster is the ugliness inside of yourself that you’re fighting against…and everyone has something inside themselves like that…even Alya.”

Adrien found himself unable to speak, so he gave Luka a wavering yet grateful smile instead.

“Besides,” Luka shrugged, picking up his scotch and taking a sip. “There are so many good things about you that you didn’t even mention.”

Adrien was about to challenge Luka to name one when Luka continued, “Like your beautifully awful sense of humor and your virtuosic piano abilities and your encyclopedic knowledge of cheese.”

Adrien burst out laughing as the tense atmosphere was obliterated. “You still…say the sweetest things,” he chortled.

Luka shrugged. “Eh. I know where your buttons are…just like how you always have your fingers on mine.”

Adrien’s laughter died down, and a tentative smile settled onto his lips. “…Sometimes I wonder if I still know where they are or if they’ve shifted in the time we’ve been apart. You still seem like the same you, but…a year and a half is a long time. I feel like I’ve probably missed something important.”

Luka took another sip of his scotch, considering before answering, “Yes and no. I’m different, but I’m still me. All the important bits are there…and, as for the rest, we have plenty of time to catch up now that your father isn’t being a psycho and keeping us apart. If I have new ‘buttons’, I’m confident you’ll find them and start pressing them eventually…probably sooner rather than later.”

“Good to know you believe in me,” Adrien hummed and then paused. “…Are we okay?”

He cast a nervous, sidelong glance at Luka. “I didn’t ruin everything, did I?”

Luka frowned. “No. Of course not. I mean—” He winced and hastily corrected, “—of course we’re okay.”

Adrien blew out a slow breath. “Okay. Good. Sorry. As I’m sure you’ll remember, I kind of suck at the whole self-worth thing, and I’m constantly worrying that people are going to stop caring about me overnight if I make a mistake, so…and I know things are kind of odd between us with the whole…well. Me being in love with your girlfriend, so… And probably me bringing up wanting to wreck things between Alya and Nino so that I could kiss him was…”

“Adrien?” Luka bumped Adrien’s arm gently. “It’s okay. I say this in the most loving, accepting way possible, but…I know you’re a mess. I accept that you are a screwed-up human being with crazy, ugly stuff going on in your life…. I still like you and want to be your friend. We’re okay.”

Adrien studied Luka’s face for a minute before nodding solemnly. “Okay. You should probably be canonized as the patron saint of patience and radical acceptance, but I’m really glad to hear that you feel that way.”

Luka’s lips pulled into a lopsided smirk as he raised his glass. “To friendship and radical acceptance.”

Adrien clinked his glass against Luka’s and drank.

“…So…” Adrien led in after a measure of silence, his voice gliding up to land on the note.

Luka cocked an eyebrow.

“The last song you guys played. That was one of yours too, right?” Adrien angled his body slightly away from the bar counter and more towards Luka as Adrien’s desire to close himself off dissipated.

Luka nodded. “Yeah. Thoughts?”

“You’re a genius.” Adrien shrugged. “Second coming of Mozart.”

Luka scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Blasphemy. Seriously, what did you think? No flattery. I respect your musical opinion more than almost anyone, so please give it to me.”

“I am being serious,” Adrien assured. “Your sound is so unique. People are going to go crazy for you once you get some more exposure. I honestly can’t offer you a critique because you’re legitimately just that good, Luka.”

The earnest adoration in Adrien’s eyes and voice turned Luka’s legs to jelly. This was exactly what he needed to patch up the wounds of inadequacy his relationship with Marinette had been inflicting upon him.

“Careful, Ariel. You’re going to give me a big head,” he chuckled, leaning on the bar, gravitating closer.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “If anyone deserves to have a big head, it’s you. Seriously. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Okay,” Luka relented. “If you won’t give me a critique, at least tell me what specifically you liked so I can do something similar in the future.”

“In the last song?” Adrien took a sip of his drink and then licked the creamy remnants from his top lip. “The bass line. Particularly, about halfway through, that descending chromatic. Ugh.” Adrien’s eyelids fluttered in ecstasy. “It made me melt. Nothing makes me go all tingly faster than those low notes. It’s like aural pornography.”

“N-Noted,” Luka gulped, suddenly getting all manner of ideas that he had no business entertaining. He did not need to know how to musically seduce Adrien Agreste. “What else?”

Adrien bit his lip. “There’s this leitmotif that’s been showing up in your work lately.”

Luka shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly what Adrien was referring to and not wanting to own up to its inspiration.

“It’s not even the main theme, and sometimes it only pops up once in a piece for just a second, but it’s pervasive throughout your recent oeuvre. It’s the same sequence of serpentine, kind of…gypsy, tarantella, Habanera, Anitra’s Dance…sort of played as a mix between a tango and a waltz. You know what I’m talking about?” Adrien eyed Luka expectantly.

Luka shifted again, taking a sip of his scotch before replying in an offhanded way. “Oh. The Siren Leitmotif. It’s…been stuck in my head lately…kind of driving me nuts. I didn’t realize that it was ending up in…well, everything.”

“Siren Leitmotif?” Adrien echoed with an arched eyebrow.

Luka cleared his throat. “You know how Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique musically tells the story of a musician’s unrequited love and how it gradually drives him mad?”

Adrien, familiar with the piece, nodded.

Luka continued, “And you know how throughout the piece the idea of his beloved is represented by the same repeating musical phrase? I guess the Siren Leitmotif is kind of like that.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

The leitmotif was Marinette.

Suddenly, Adrien didn’t care for the tune as much as he had before.

“It’s…I like it. It’s very…exotic,” Adrien did his best to cover the abrupt turn his mood had taken. “…It doesn’t sound very much like Marinette, though—at least, not to me,” he hurriedly amended.

But then, Adrien reasoned, Adrien wasn’t Marinette’s boyfriend. Chat Noir and Marinette had only made out once. Phenomenal though it had been, it wasn’t actually a lot to go on. How would Adrien really know what Marinette was like intimately?

A terrible realization: Were Marinette and Luka sleeping together?! They must be. They’d been going out for two months, and Luka was crazy about Marinette. Surely, at this point in time, Marinette had fallen wildly in love with Luka—how could she not have?

“Because it isn’t,” Luka replied, cutting into Adrien’s downward mental spiral.

Adrien blinked, backtracking. “Because it isn’t…what?”

Because the Siren Leitmotif wasn’t…Marinette? But then…who? Who the hell else could it be? Who had managed to get into Luka’s head, capture his attention enough to subconsciously permeate into Luka’s music? Who could—?

“Siren,” Adrien whispered. “As in…a mermaid?”

Luka frowned but then nodded.

Slowly, a vindicated grin spread across Adrien’s lips. “As in…Disney’s The Little Mermaid…Ariel?”

Luka’s face went ashen and then flushed. He looked away, bringing his glass up to his mouth, hiding behind it.

“You know,” Adrien giggled in glee, “for the longest time, I thought that nickname was a Shakespeare’s The Tempest reference, but…”

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Luka muttered into his drink, his shoulders scrunching up in horrified mortification with a touch of dread.

“I’m your siren,” Adrien continued to laugh, suddenly over the moon because Luka was thinking about him. He’d gotten into Luka’s head, under Luka’s skin.

Luka sighed audibly, setting down his glass and running a hand through his hair.

Adrien turned his body so that he was facing Luka full on. “Don’t make that face,” he cooed.

“I’m not making a face,” Luka grumbled. “What face?”

Adrien gave Luka’s nose a poke. “The face you make when you wish you had a guitar in your hands so that you didn’t have to talk.”

Luka lifted an eyebrow. “I have a face for that?”

Adrien nodded, the teasing coming out of his voice to be replaced by softness. “Yeah, but you usually don’t make it at me. At least you didn’t…before. I guess things have changed.”

Luka chewed on his bottom lip, reluctantly meeting Adrien’s uncertain gaze. “Not as much as you seem to think.”

“…I thought you were over me,” Adrien admitted.

“In all fairness? I thought I was too…until you ran smack into me at that party two months ago.” Luka shook his head. “I mean, I knew a part of me would always have feelings for you, but…I didn’t anticipate…” His brow furrowed deeply. “These past few months have been emotionally confusing as we’ve become friends again and you’ve reminded me of all the things time and distance helped me to forget.”

Adrien took a step closer, his thigh brushing Luka’s. “…Am I driving you nuts?” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on Luka’s chest and slowly trailing up to Luka’s shoulder.

“Cards on the table?” Luka breathed in frustration. “Yes. Between you and Marinette, I am going insane. I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“Hey, I have a leitmotif,” Adrien chuckled, “and it is sexy and alluring and vibrant and fierce and…and that’s how this really amazing guy thinks of me? You have made my week. Yes, I’m amused. Are you kidding? I’m freaking ecstatic. Luka, I have felt so low this year. I’ve felt ugly and-and like a total dumpster fire. I’ve felt unsalvageable, but…God, your music is beautiful, and that theme is supposed to be me? I feel…” Finally the emotions caught up with Adrien, and he got choked up. “…so good right now. Genuinely good.”

Luka’s mouth (which had dropped open around the part where Adrien had called Luka amazing) flapped open and closed impotently. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words weren’t coming together. He really wished he had a guitar so that he could play Adrien what he was feeling.

Adrien smiled, patting Luka’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You can play it for me later,” he assured.

Luka nodded. “You think I’m amazing?”

Adrien cracked up a little. “Luka, I legitimately think you’re the second coming of Mozart. What higher praise do you want from me?”

“Snap,” Luka chuckled giddily. “You were serious about that.”

“Yes. Yes, I was.” Adrien rolled his eyes.

Luka’s entire face went carnelian.

“It’s so easy to make you happy,” Adrien observed with a hum of amusement. He rubbed his knee up Luka’s thigh and snatched Luka’s hand, spiriting it to Adrien’s lips for a butterfly kiss. “And you’re so cute when you blush.”

Luka’s flush deepened as both his tongue and his stomach tied themselves into knots.

“You’re sure I can’t steal you for the night?” Adrien hummed, wanting nothing more than to go back to the Liberty for shared music and deep, meaningful chats and snuggling in Luka’s bed and maybe even a kiss or four or six or eight.

Luka gave a little gasp of realization and tried to take a step back, but Adrien followed. “I don’t…Ariel, this isn’t just platonic flirting anymore.”

Adrien thought about it for a minute before agreeing. “…No. No, it’s not.”

“I can’t do this,” Luka breathed plaintively.

Adrien bit his lip, studying Luka’s face.

Luka’s normally clear blue eyes were cloudy as they begged, “Please don’t make me do this” but at the same time whispered, “You could make me do this…if you really wanted to”.

Adrien’s fingers dipped into Luka’s jacket pocket and pulled out a guitar pick. He stepped back to a reasonable distance and began to roll the pick back and forth over his knuckles, between his fingers.

He looked down at the remains of his drink in the glass on the counter and sullenly considered his situation. He felt frustrated that he’d missed out when Luka had been available and very much in love with the oblivious and confused Adrien. He felt cheated now that Luka was with Marinette so that Adrien couldn’t be with either of them. He was jealous. Marinette didn’t need Luka. If she didn’t want Adrien, why couldn’t she be with any of the dozen other guys who had crushes on her? Did it have to be Luka?

He turned the question back on himself: Did it have to be Luka? Did it have to be Marinette? Could he somehow extract himself from the situation and figure out how to be okay? He’d been doing so much better in respect to his mental health the past few months. Did he really need to complicate things with his relationships?

No…but he wanted to. He wanted love and affection—Luka’s kisses and fond smiles, Marinette’s thoughtful gestures and adoring looks, kind words and praise and light touches and—if Adrien couldn’t have Marinette, he could at least have Luka, couldn’t he? Marinette didn’t need Luka. And Adrien could be good to him. Would be good to him. There would be other men for Marinette, and Luka would have Adrien, so no one was really missing out if Adrien took it upon himself to…rearrange the relationships between them…right?

“But aren’t you doing it already?” Adrien hummed.

Luka’s face lost all color.

“I mean…the Siren Leitmotif has been showing up in your work these past two months, hasn’t it?” he challenged. “Even without me doing anything to actively encourage things between us, I’ve been on your mind, haven’t I?”

“Adrien,” Luka sighed, gripping at the roots of his hair. “Look. I realize that I’ve been unfaithful to Marinette in my thoughts, but there’s a big difference between…”

Adrien let the guitar pick fly out of his hand. “Whoops.”

Luka abruptly went silent as Adrien dropped into a feline-like crouch to retrieve the guitar pick and then slowly rolled up, leading with his behind in a way that gave Luka all kinds of bad ideas.

Adrien turned back around and smiled impishly as he purred, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Adrien,” Luka groaned at the object of his desire’s deliberate teasing.

“Luka,” Adrien echoed, playing innocent.

Luka shook his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he accused. “And I’m asking you to stop.”

Adrien slipped the guitar pick back into Luka’s pocket and looked away with a pout.

“Adrien,” Luka called firmly, taking Adrien by the shoulders and forcing him to look at Luka. “Please. We both know that you don’t really want what you’re pretending that you want.”

Adrien frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Luka explained patiently, his hands moving up to Adrien’s face, “that you don’t really want to seduce me. Didn’t you just tell me a little bit ago that you weren’t sexually attracted to other guys when you alluded to being biromantic heterosexual? Haven’t you told me before that you’re not interested in a relationship right now while you’re not emotionally well? Adrien, you don’t want to sleep with me. You don’t want to be with me. You don’t want to grow old together or build a life with me or take care of sick kids or figure out how to finance buying a house. You’re not thinking of any of that.”

Luka’s voice was soft and not accusing or angry or bitter, but there was a pain in Luka’s eyes that cut through Adrien, filling him with guilt anyway.

He was doing what Marinette had done to him to Luka. All of the sudden, Adrien felt vile, lower than dirt.

“Luka, I’m sorry. I—”

Luka cut him off with a finger pressed to Adrien’s lips. “Shh. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not,” Adrien wanted to argue.

“I know you’re going through a lot,” Luka assured. “I know you just want attention and affection. Things, first with Ladybug and then Marinette, haven’t been easy for you, and even though your father is doing a better job in recent months, there’s still a big affection deficit in your life that’s going to take a long time to fill. I know that you don’t mean to hurt me and that you weren’t thinking about what effect your actions would have on me at all, really. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Luka ran a thumb over Adrien’s lips, eyes pinning Adrien like a butterfly. “We have three options. One, you get one hundred percent serious about me.” Luka paused to let his words sink in. “Two, we stay just friends with normal levels of platonic flirting, and I keep trying to maintain a hold on my feelings for you.” Another solemn pause for reflection. “Three,” Luka winced. “we don’t see each other anymore.”

Adrien’s hand flew to Luka’s wrist, gripping tightly. His bottom lip trembled. He shook his head. He couldn’t even verbalize a response.

Luka smiled reassuringly, giving Adrien’s cheek a comforting pat. “Well, then, behave, okay? Don’t tempt me because I’m not a cheater. I want to keep being around you because you make me feel genuinely good too. You’re a precious friend to me, Adrien. I don’t want to lose that again. Having you ripped away from me once was hard enough.”

Adrien shook his head, feeling very much afraid. “You were wrong…. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” He couldn’t get over the sinking feeling that he was going to wreck everything once more.

“Hey.” Luka’s thumb gently stroked Adrien’s cheek. “Shhh. Calm down. It’s going to be fine. Just breathe. Don’t panic. We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

Adrien took a deep breath, body shaking. He nodded. “Sorry about the mood swings. I swear I’m fine. I just…”

“Close your eyes,” Luka instructed.

Adrien frowned but did as asked. A second later he felt gentle kisses placed on his eyelids, Luka’s breath warm on his face as Luka whispered, “You’re okay, Perfect Fifth.”

Adrien’s grip on Luka’s forearm tightened. “Luka…” His eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good,” he promised.

Luka smiled. “I know you will. I’ll do my best on my end as well.”

A cacophony of texts began to pour in on Luka’s phone, snapping the two out of the moment.

“The hell?” Luka frowned as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry.”

A text came in on Adrien’s phone too.

Luka cursed under his breath as he read, “WTH do u think ur doing?!” from Juleka followed by an onslaught of question marks and exclamation points sent individually so that Luka could not ignore her.

“It’s my sister. She disapproves,” Luka sighed, typing back, “we’re just talking”, “chill”.

“Apparently, from Nino’s angle, it looked like you kissed me for real,” Adrien groaned. “He’s freaking out.”

Luka ran a hand back and forth through his hair vigorously. “Yeah, he’s coming over here.”

Adrien cursed softly, grabbing Luka’s scotch glass. “I’m going to need this,” he grumbled, downing the rest of the contents with a wince before turning to face Nino.

“What the hell, Mec?!” Nino hissed, taking Adrien by the arm and tugging him. “Have you completely lost your mind? You’ve completely lost your mind!”

“Nino,” Luka interceded. “This is a misunderstanding. I just kissed him on the cheek. It wasn’t—”

“—You. Don’t even start with me,” Nino warned, waving a finger in Luka’s face. “I like you, Luka, but you’re screwing around with two of my best friends. You are on thin ice.”

“Nino,” Adrien sighed, pulling on Nino’s arm. “I’m the one trying to seduce him. You should be yelling at me.”

Nino rolled his eyes. “You are having a quarter-life crisis. You and I will have a talk later when you’re sober, Adrien, but, for now, he’s taking advantage of you, and—”

“—Are you sure about that?” Adrien scoffed. “Because I’m having to do a heck of a lot of the work, and I don’t feel like he’s deriving any benefit from me. Maybe someone should teach him how to take advantage better.”

Nino gritted his teeth. “Adrien—”

“—Okay.” Luka stepped in. “This is not a productive conversation. Maybe we need to call a time out and discuss things later when we’re feeling more level-headed.”

Adrien and Nino both snorted.

“Adrien, Nino’s just concerned because he cares about you,” Luka reasoned calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “Nino, yes, Adrien is having a rough time lately, but he’s not a child. Now, if we could all take a deep breath?”

Begrudgingly, Nino and Adrien inhaled slowly in tandem.

“Good. Nino?”

Nino cocked an eyebrow, not letting go of his attitude entirely, lest Luka mistakenly think he’d been forgiven.

“I want to make sure Adrien gets home safely. Since I don’t think you’d approve of me escorting him, could you please take him or see that he gets into an Agreste vehicle?”

Nino shrugged. “I was planning on it.”

“Good,” Luka repeated. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check in with the others.”

“Wait.” Adrien reached out a hand as Luka made to go.

Luka read the anxiety on Adrien’s face and smiled. “Don’t worry,” he assured. “We’re good. I’ll text you later?”

Adrien nodded, conjuring up a smile in answer.

Nino sighed as they watched Luka walk away. “Mec…I understand that your whole life is exploding this year, but couldn’t you have picked any other guy? Literally any other guy? Why do you have to set yourself up to get hurt?”

Adrien shrugged, looping his arm through Nino’s. “Literally any other guy?”

“Yes,” Nino insisted.

Adrien chuckled, leaning in to lick Nino’s cheek. “Don’t you think Alya will mind sharing?”

Nino cursed under his breath. “Dude. Don’t make me bite you.”

“There’s a snapping turtle joke in there somewhere,” Adrien mused.

Nino shook his head, pulling Adrien towards the exit. “You keep me up nights worrying about you.”

Adrien was silent for a few steps before answering. “…Sorry…. Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Nino assured, bumping Adrien’s hip with his own.

( Now, who clicked on the link in "I drink to you"? Those of you who did were confused, weren't you? Unless you're familiar with Wagner's leitmotifs in Tristan und Isolde. Adrien is making a joke that he doesn't expect anyone else to get. In the opera, Tristan and Isolde think that they're drinking poison, but Isolde's maid has put a love potion in the cup instead. Tristan drinks first, and then Isolde snatches the cup from him, claiming that half is for her. She says, "I drink to you" (as the leitmotif in the link plays), and they fall in love instead of dying. Their unfortunate, star-crossed love dooms them to death anyway. Adrien is being melodramatic and seeing parallels between his own star-crossed, hopeless situation and the opera. This is just a little piece of subtle character psychology that I snuck in...until you know it's there, and then it's ham-fisted and glaring...but that should give you some background for what's going through Adrien's head as he says the line.)

[averagemarvelbitch]

The Billionaire and The Mechanic / STONY

Summary: Steve is a billionaire who worked hard to get where he is. He meets Tony, the mechanic, and falls in love faster than he ever thought possible. But Tony has some issues to work through, and some secrets he’s clearly not ready to share, and Steve’s friends, ever so overprotective, are not really trusting of this strange mechanic who seems to have the billionaire wrapped around his little finger.

They soon find out that loving someone isn’t always easy, but it might be worth it in the end.

Chapters: 3/?

Tagging: @huntersociopathavenger @inmyownweirdworld

Read it on AO3

---

Tony smelled coffee. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking. The other side of the bed was empty, but it was very much obvious that it had been occupied before. He smiled as he remembered the events of the night before. The way Steve had worshipped his body, his mouth slowly discovering every inch of him, his hands memorizing every curve. The young mechanic had been with his fair share of partners, men and women alike, but he could safely say that none of them had ever pulled him apart like Steve had. He had fallen right asleep after hours and hours of lovemaking, too satisfied and tired to stay awake any longer. He could still feel the delicious ache in his body as he moved on the bed, stretching his arms and legs like a cat.

“Good morning”, a voice spoke from the door.

Tony looked up and smiled. Steve was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh, it’s a very good morning”, Tony said pointedly looking at Steve’s crotch, “Would be even better if you were naked and in bed with me”.

Steve smiled and sat down next to the mechanic, offering him the cup, “But on the bright side, I made coffee”.

“That’s the only reason I’m forgiving you, Rogers”.

Tony drank the coffee slowly, moaning when the delicious liquid finally touched his tongue, burning his throat as it went down. Steve adjusted his legs, clearly uncomfortable as his dick sprung to life again.

“I’m late for work”, the blonde said.

Tony put the cup on the nightstand after finishing it and turned around. “Will you get into trouble? You could call in sick or something”.

“Nah, no trouble. I’m the boss”.

“Well, then, since you’re the boss”, Tony replied in a low tone, climbing into Steve’s lap and rubbing himself against the taller man, making him moan softly, “I’m sure you can stay for a few more hours, right?”

“I’m never late for work”, Steve tried to reason, but completely lost his trail of thought when he felt Tony’s hot mouth on his neck, his tongue slowly going up to his ear just as the mechanic’s hand found his dick under the black boxers.

“How about half an hour more and then we take a shower?” the mechanic whispered in his ear.

Steve wasted no more time and quickly threw Tony back on the bed, completely forgetting all about work and tardiness as he devoured the mechanic’s mouth.

---

He had fifteen missed calls, ten from Bucky and five from Maria. He knew he was about to get an earful from both of them, especially from his best friend, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was happy. No, scratch that, he was… Well, Clint would probably describe it as “so happy you’re probably shitting rainbows”, which, truth be told, was a very apt description of how he felt at the moment. He couldn’t stop smiling. He also couldn’t stop thinking about Tony and their night together. And their morning together. And the shower they took together. And the very heated make out session right before Steve left, which almost turned into a christening of the kitchen table. And then the stairs.

Steve felt like a teenager all over again, falling in love for the first time. He knew he had a tendency to fall fast ― Bucky had reminded him of that so many times throughout the years ―, but this time, it felt different. It felt so different from every other time he had fallen for someone. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t put it in words, but he knew. He knew Tony would be his last love.

By the time Steve finally arrived at SHIELD, it was almost lunch time since the promised half hour and shower had somehow turned into three hours of pure bliss for both parties. Hill was waiting for him by the door, looking ready to murder someone. He looked at her sheepishly.

“Where were you?” she hissed, following Steve inside his office.

“It’s personal. I didn’t have any meetings, did I?”

“No. But still, it would be nice to be warned. I’ve worked here for ten years, Steve, and not ONCE were you late for work. As a matter of fact, you’ve never even called in sick! So forgive me for worrying!”

This time, Steve looked properly apologetic. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I should have called”.

“Or texted”.

“Or texted. Is there anything that needs my attention right now?”

Hill huffed, quickly adjusting her expression to a more professional one. “No, nothing at the moment. You do have three very important meetings later, one of them with General Ross. You might want to prepare”.

“I will. Thank you, Maria”.

With a nod, Hill left the office, closing the door behind her. Steve, then, took his phone from his pocket and quickly sent a text to his mechanic.

>>I can’t wait until Friday.

The answer came after just a few seconds.

<<You literally just left my house. You are insatiable, Rogers. Also, I’m very impressed with your refractory period. Five times in two hours, how the hell is that possible?

Steve snorted and let his finger hover over the phone for a moment before replying.

>>I volunteered for a super secret government project and they injected me with a super serum that gave some extraordinary abilities such as superhuman strength, superhuman speed and a dick that won’t quit.

<<Give me their number. My ass would like to send them a mini muffin basket as thanks.

<<Okay, I actually need to work now, even though I’m walking like a fucking penguin thanks to you. Talk to you later, handsome.

Steve didn’t have time to reply, however, because his door suddenly opened with a loud bang, and Bucky walked in, looking livid.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry”.

“Fuck, Stevie, we’ve been worried sick about your sorry ass. Where the hell were you?”

“You know, I am a grown man who can take care of himself”, Steve replied, rolling his eyes.

“You’re a dumbass who has no sense of self-preservation”, Bucky corrected him, sitting on one of the chair. “So, I’m guessing the date went well”.

“It did”, he answered simply, not really wanting to give his best friend many details.

“You dog. So, Nat wants to double date…”

Steve vehemently shook his head, “NOPE. No, no way, not gonna happen”.

“Why the ever loving fuck not? Are you embarrassed of us or something?”, Bucky asked, feigning offense.

“I know you two. You’re way too overprotective. You’re going to use this date to dig dirt on him and psychoanalyze him and scare him away. I like him, Bucky”.

“Come on, punk, we’re not gonna do that, okay? I promise. Nat and I will be on our best behavior”, he promised, crossing his heart, “So will Sam, Clint and Coulson”, he whispered right after.

“Oh, so it’s not a double date, you’re full on ganging on him”, Steve said, exasperated.

“We’ll be nice. Come on, man, we wanna meet this mechanic who’s got you by the balls after one date”.

Steve looked at his best friend with a frown and then shook his head, resigned. “Fine”, he said, and Bucky punched the air with a soft yeah, “but if you guys scare him away, I swear, Bucky, I’m going to kill all of you”.

“Yeah, okay. Clint comes back next week so we’ll do it then”.

“Fine. Now, I need to prepare for my meetings. Hill booked Stane and Hammer this afternoon to pitch their weapons”.

“Hammer tech is crap, man”, Bucky complained, getting up.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t shut up about his goddamn new guns at the fundraiser so I told Hill we’d give him a chance. But, to be fair, Stane isn’t much better lately”.

“Yeah, I know. Howard Stark was the brains behind the weapons, right? Makes sense that after his death they’d be out of good ideas”, Bucky explained, shrugging.

“I don’t know. Fury knew him, said the guy was losing his mind. Too much scotch, apparently. If he really was as bad as Fury made him to be, then it’s hard to believe he was the genius behind R&D”, Steve took a deep breath, reading over some papers on his desk, “Okay, I need to read this now. Come back at 3pm if you want to see the weapons for yourself, okay?”

“Sure. Oh, and, Stevie?”, Bucky called from the door, with an innocent expression, “What’s your boyfriend’s name again?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Buck. Yet”.

“Name, jackass”.

“Tony Carbonell”, Steve replied with a suffering sigh, “his name is Tony Carbonell”.

“Cool. See you later, punk”.

“Jerk”, Steve replied softly under his breath, turning all his concentration back to the papers in front of him and trying not to lose himself on thoughts of Tony. Friday night couldn’t come fast enough.

---

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[fanfic-scribbles]

Mouthy Broad

Fandom: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky try to go out on a date only to get waylaid by some pathetic wanna-be vigilantes. There are no words for how fucking stupid this is. You’re going to try to find some, regardless.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Side story for “On the Run” (though I put in enough info that you don’t have to read that first), abrasive/sarcastic Reader, language, sex joke, established Bucky/Reader, Reader and Steve have a friendship based on friendly antagonism (they don’t actually hate each other they just act like it), Reader recovering from traumatic event.

Words: 2470

A/N: The idea made me laugh, and then when I wrote it I got infected with feels, so here, have the fruits of my labor. A little one-shot for “On the Run” that takes place after that series, though I did my best to make it comprehensible to people who don’t wanna go through a sixteen part series to understand a 2k+ story. I think it worked, but only time can tell.

“On the Run” Masterlist Here (if you’re interested)

This is some bullshit.

You open your mouth to say just that when Bucky lifts his hand. “Please, whatever you’re going to say, just…don’t.”

You scowl at the back of his head. It’s impossible for him to see you, since he’s too busy trying to crush you between his back and the wall. Still he says, “I know. I know.”

You let out a sigh and try to make yourself as small behind him as you can. This was supposed to be easy. You and Bucky have been cohabitating for a couple of weeks now and aside from the new luxury rent-free digs courtesy of Tony Stark, you’ve been getting on as you always have. Well, mostly. Getting kidnapped and tortured would make anyone shy about leaving their heavily-fortified house, (‘house’, ‘giant tower protected by superheroes and mad genius, to-may-to, to-mah-to), and you’re still in the land of New Relationship Bliss. Getting dressed and going outside will always be less fun than sitting in your PJs on the couch with Bucky, alternating between making fun of whatever you’re watching and just plain making out.

Living your best life indeed.

Still, you don’t plan to play Rapunzel forever. You intend to get a job and you’d like to go outside without looking over your shoulder constantly. You’re very aware of why you avoid going out and it has made you more determined to get out on the town. Fuck Hydra; you’re not going to let them get to you so much that you stay inside eating snacks forever. So you decided, while having a particularly good day, that you and Bucky were going to go on a date in the outside world, dammit.

(Because after accomplishing that you can stay inside eating snacks forever if you want but with a sense of superiority, which really makes all the difference in the world.)

So earlier you basically told Bucky ‘get up asshole we’re going to see a movie and get dinner,’ (okay maybe not ‘basically’ maybe it was ‘literally’; what do you know), and with a remarkably light amount of grumbling, he got dressed and presentable and you both went out with the best of intentions.

Only to get crowded down a side street and trapped in a loading dock by a bunch of idiots with guns. For fuck’s sake, it’s barely even dark out and these guys are just–

“Let the girl go, Winter Soldier!”

You poke your head out. “Hey dickweed, the only danger to me is you and your wanna-be vigilante dickweed friends!”

Bucky hisses your name. You huff and go back into hiding. Admittedly, you’ve seen enough guns to last a lifetime, thanks, but these morons are…well…morons. Also, young, which is probably the only thing saving them from Bucky’s lethal force. Once they started tossing around ‘war criminal’ accusations Bucky went heavy on the defense while you have never wanted to punch someone more in your life (with maybe one exception).

“An idiot with a firearm is still an idiot with a firearm,” Bucky says and lets out his own sigh.

“Among other things,” you mutter. You peer around him again. “Hey! Idiot Number One!”

Idiot #1 looks around like you must be talking to someone else. Idiot #1– with a bullet. “Who, me?”

“Yeah, you! Barry with the Bad Hair–” Seriously, this fucker looks like he stepped off the off-off Broadway stage for “Amadeus”. “Where’d you get the cell signal blocker?”

Bucky says your name like he’s trying to talk himself out of knocking you unconscious. Or maybe he’s reconsidering who, out of the two of you, gets to be the human shield. Whatever it is, it definitely involves Bruce’s breathing exercises.

Idiot #1 pats his hair self-consciously and then scowls at you. “I’ll answer that if you tell me why you’re standing behind the Winter Soldier.”

“Deal!” What a fucking moron.

He nods like he has any sense of dignity or decorum when the only reason he and his friends are conscious is because they have murder tools and you are soft and squishy and have no sense of self-preservation. It was even on your list of ‘Cons’ for your ‘Going Outside’ list which you are clearly going to have to revisit.

“Let’s just say a friend of the people has a vested interest in shutting down Stark–” he tries to spit on Tony’s name but it’s a bit too drooly and oh god this is pathetic and gross now, “–tech.” He swallows and points. “Now you.”

“Well I was out on a date and some asshole morons started waving guns around so this jerkwad shoved me here to help keep my cute ass sans bullet holes.” You flip your hair. “Sorry; I’m on a ‘no lead’ diet.”

“That’s not– I didn’t s–” He turns a little red when he realizes, yeah, that is what he said. “I meant why are you defending him?! He’s a killer!”

“And you waving a gun around is just for funsies? Does it pop out a flag that says ‘bang!’?” You probably come off a little too angry, given the way Bucky squeezes your arm reassuringly, but really, ‘sick of this shit’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“We are correcting an oversight of the law,” Idiot #1 says, sounding so snooty it’s almost unbelievable that some butler or nanny isn’t coming to collect him for bedtime. He’s not your main concern anymore though. The kid to your extreme left is shaking like a leaf and you can’t really see, but you doubt he’s practicing proper gun safety.

“Hey, Judge Dredd.” You point at Shaky. “If you’re not out to get innocent people shot then maybe tell Hair Trigger to lay off, yeah? The guy’s just as likely to shoot you as he is to shoot us.”

Idiot #1 looks over and sighs, like his friend is just being embarrassing and not like he’s being embarrassing while holding a deadly weapon. It’d serve him right to get grazed by friendly fire. “Jerry, we talked about this. If you can’t–”

“No, I– I got this,” Shake-us Maximus says and takes a deep breath. He steadies only slightly. “I got this!” He looks like he’s imagining a music swell play under his triumph. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Oh my god!” Token Girl gasps. “They rolled their eyes at the exact same time!”

What a shock, that Bucky would also find that lame guy super lame. Idiot #2 has a giant Adam’s apple that you can see move with his swallow. He stammers, “Wha-what if she’s an android designed to be an extension of him?”

You burst out laughing. “Wow! Wow.” You can’t form any other words at first. They come eventually. “That is the dumbest conspiracy theory I have ever heard, and I once went on a date with a moon-landing denier.” That’s a fun memory. By comparison. “You think I’m some high-tech ventriloquist dummy?” Though you think maybe, considering the circumstances and relationship, ‘Real Doll’ might be a more accurate comparison. You poke Bucky. “By the way, sorry to disappoint, but fisting is not an achievement unlocked on a first date.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters and squishes you more against the wall. “Why do I always find the tiny idiots who want to fight everything? Why is this my life?”

“I am not tiny,” you say. “Take that back.”

Bucky looks at you, and then looks at himself. “You’re not bigger than me. And you don’t know how to fight. So, yeah– tiny idiot.”

“I swear to god if you are lumping me in with Steve again I’m going to dump your ass on your own couch.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and looks back at them. But you cross your arms and add, “Maybe one of these losers will let you sleep on theirs. Maybe you can find out what’s killing their brain cells that they think this is a good idea.”

Bucky sighs a little more roughly. “Can’t you be serious for five minutes?”

“With guns pointed at me? Fuck that; if I’m going out I wanna make it hard to pick out which zinger goes on my headstone.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, stealing little glances at you. Then he spins and pins you to the wall so securely that you have to take shallow breaths. “Bucky?”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you. All right?” he says, keeping eye contact and staying almost in kissing distance. You could close it if you want, but you’re honestly not in the mood. Which blows because Bucky shoving you up against the wall is supposed to be really hot.

“Don’t– don’t turn your back on them, you idiot.” You try to push him back but he just presses his forehead to yours.

“Shh,” he says. “Don’t look at them, don’t listen to them. Just focus on me. People like that’ll kill your brain cells if you’re not careful.”

The Brooklyn is coming out strong, which normally only happens when he’s relaxed. However, you find yourself at a loss to make fun of him for it. Well, right now, anyways. “Seriously, turning your back on a bunch of guns? You’re not Steve; you don’t have a shield to turtle under!”

“Oh my god, is that Captain America?!”

You blink and peek as the Armed Idiot Brigade start to fan over an annoyed and cautious Steve Rogers.

You lean back against the wall and consider. Well, it’s worth a shot. “You’re not rich; you don’t have a million dollars waiting to rain down on you!” You wait. Nothing. Drat. Bucky huffs and you shrug as he lets up. “Hey, can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Oh, are we interrupting?” Tony says as he floats down in his suit.

You smirk at Bucky and he rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t count,” he says.

“Eh. Close enough,” you say and look around the combined wall of Tony Stark as Ironman and Bucky Barnes as Moron Who Thinks His Metal Arm Is the Same as a Suit of Armor. Thankfully, Steve has negotiated the idiots into at least lowering their weapons.

“I’m confused,” Tony says.

“It’s okay. You just look like a million bucks, Stark,” you say and flash him a smile.

“Only a million?” he asks as though mortally offended.

“Fine. A thousand.”

“But–”

“Keep going and it’ll be a hundred.” You smooth out your clothes and go back to paying attention to the goings-on. Steve is talking to Idiot #1 and looking like he’d rather deal with anyone else. It’s sort of hilarious already. “Hey Steve! I will be nice to you for an entire day if you punch that guy!”

Steve immediately looks thoughtful. “An entire day?”

“Wh-what?!” Idiot #1 goes pale and jerks back. “Y-you wouldn’t!”

“Twenty-four hours, no more, no less,” you say and delight in the way the little asshole shakes. Good. Let him be terrified for a few minutes. Fair is fair.

“Hey, if you knew her like I do then you’d be tempted too.” Steve takes one step, not even giving any real weight to it, but Idiot #1 falls on his ass. His friends stand around, stunned. Well at least they won't shoot Captain America.

“But– but you hate bullies!” Idiot #1 whimpers.

“Yeah. I really do.” Steve kneels down and rips the gun away. The weenie gasps and holds his hand. Please. Steve has stolen a pack of cookies from you with more force; there’s no way that hurt. “I really hate watching a group of people aim weapons on a couple just trying to enjoy a nice night out.”

Idiot #1 stammers, but shuts up when Steve holds up his hand and stands. “I’m not a cop, so I can’t read you your rights, but the authorities are on their way, so you might want to stay quiet regardless.”

At that, the idiot minions try to run. Tony lifts up and drops down in front of Shaky. Natasha creepily appears in front of Idiot #2, and Token Girl jumps back with a shriek when she almost slams into Clint. You take count of the guns lying on the ground and you finally, finally can breathe again. Once they’re all secured Tony takes off with whatever they used to block your call for help, muttering something about…hammers? You don’t really care, as long as Pepper doesn’t blame you for him locking himself in the lab again. You maintain that hovering coffee cups seemed like a really great idea at the time.

Anyways. Due to the motive, the intended victim, and the dumbasses’ previous loud claims to be vigilantes, the morons are going to be taken into SHIELD’s custody rather than the police’s. Coulson’s creepy bland smile freaks them out, which you approve of, and after taking statements and grabbing the evidence, he and Steve go off together talking about how they’re going to scare them straight, which you whole-heartedly approve of.

However at the end of it all you’re frazzled, hungry, and wondering why you thought leaving your room was a good idea.

“Hey.” Bucky slides his arm around you and you lean into him. “We missed the movie but we can still get dinner.”

It sounds good in theory. Everything is fine now, you’re starving, and Steve can’t crash your date to ‘chaperone’ like he threatened to when you left the tower earlier. You want to, you really want to…

…but what if something else happens?

Bucky looks at you like he knows what you’re thinking. Or maybe he’s zoning out and running through his own doomsday scenarios. It’s hard to tell with this guy, sometimes. Eventually he says, “I got an idea,” and pulls you along to where Natasha and Clint are talking. They look up when you approach and Bucky says, “We’re gonna hit up that diner near the tower before we head back. You two wanna join us?”

“Oh, I love that place!” Clint says, eyes bright and wide until Natasha elbows him.

“We don’t want to crash your date,” she says, looking at you.

You like where Bucky is going with this, though. “You’re not; we’re inviting you.”

“All right then,” Natasha says with a nod.

“Yes!” Clint says and falls in next to you as you walk, Natasha on his other side, and Bucky on yours. “They have the best pies, let me tell you…”

And he does, much to your amusement and Bucky and Natasha’s annoyance. You all settle into a booth and Natasha starts ribbing Clint, as is right and normal. It feels a little less like a date and more like a night out with friends, but when Bucky’s hand settles on yours on the cracked vinyl bench, you think that taking baby steps might be all right after all.

Tag List: @howdoesoneadult​ @grey-stardancer​ @projectxhappiness​ @jadepc​​ (If you don’t want to be tagged just let me know; thought this might be relevant to your interests :) )

[the-firebird69]

There's only one issue The fugitive movie hasn't begun and I say of course it hasn't they're going to take someone, insert Carmen skull and and skeleton and a murder her. In the present and blame ken. I recall someone saying the movie was taking place however, after Alexander. The skulls that Alexander and bones are deteriorated and look like the one that was seen in the TV show. But they're not there yet like a lot of things you see happening they're very very odd appear to be in time so it's cold becomes more important than people think because as we speak Tommy favino is probably pretty into someone and her skeleton in order for ken to be kidnapped fair and square, and by a police for supposedly justified or making a mistake because it was really one armed man I think it's Trump and his son is playing the medicine guy and Karen has been out for a long time

Zues Hera

Who the hell are you this is gross stuff and you're in the family and they took her and they did that and preserved her they say and that's what's going on they're trying to use her skeleton against me as you know it's an experience and they try to use all of it against you and men are getting their ass kicks this is a lot of that's father and mother and Hera she's a Tara. It is a funny part it's kind of straightening out before we meet I think I knew all this then puts it in fresh perspective about Tommy f that he's the one doing it and he blames Trump but Trump did a bunch of phlebotomies so we're waiting to see if Tommy f was affected by him he may have been with his brain might be working enough for him to do things and Trump is stupid as the first place and a friend here says that he could have reconnected his frontal lobe and it's true too just go out and scar tissue.

Ken

No trump bird dogged me because our friend here started playing the song to a scar tissue that I wish you'd saw and he went nuts follow me around say I had stuff and the guy. Bird dog me watch me mocked me did all sorts of stuff finally came up and asked me what have you been doing I didn't tell him anything I knew it was on to something then I went nuts asking what he did and found brains and all that and I asked myself what's the problem and he says the problem is does this mean it's an idiot to begin with and it's not a genius conspiratory genius criminal and he can take as many praise as he wants it doesn't make his work any better and it's always mad at me because of that it's a f** let's try thinking about something else in his his crap still doesn't help him to harm others like our friend said and yeah I looked at the connections it might look soon to be fairly close I don't know what happened there it looks like a clone's frontal lobe and for the most part it's just the same front alobe. I was to be scapegoated and to be found to be smart well half of that worked trump. And you fail to take over my business and you feel to take me over and you fail to protect yourself and now you're failing to survive at all and you are so dwindling very fast is it worth all those murders and homicides that you're doing in my name because he did to me too the answer is probably not you're a mean person and you're evil you do things in a way because they're realm great harm and I might fail because foreigners are informed because you're a stooge and you tell people on purpose and your arrogant as hell cuz you're an idiot and you're standing with your weight on the realm not with your weight on other enemies like foreigners for instance for now at my door I might take all my stuff not you why are you so stupid I'm going to defeat someone you should do work but you don't do work I find you guys up here laughing around blabbing what's wrong like craps for goose and our friend here got how. Can I see that you're a little baby missing words but I'm trying to tell you what I did and this is what you've been waiting for

Tommy f

So I made a mistake so what probably would have nothing anyways I'm stupid

Trump

You're a loser and a dead man I don't care about you in any way Trump such a fat such as f**** too bad f****** moron spend my whole life in the swamp practically the mental hospital you're a f****** moron I could have got away with massive amounts of murders which are occurring and somehow you don't get it cuz you're so stupid

Zues Hera

We suddenly seeing something he's killing off the realm because of You Trump you're the one pushing to do it and you're so dumb you don't have a clue he found a stashes and caches it's not what you would think from someone gathering from everyone you're a fool and he's right this guy's doing stuff this ineffective and it's really really oppressing me to do it it's absolutely not necessary what he's doing is stupid as hell we looked at it it's absolutely true you're going way over but we're going oppressing him and harming him we're going to kill you f****** loser

Mac