#the radio literally just started playing this and i'm rather amused

[circeyoru]

Hewooo!! I really loved the oneshot of Collection of Overlords and I have an idea for part 2 if you don't mind! (I'm a different person btw) (I THINK THIS IS ALSO VERY LONG OMG)

A few weeks after reader moved in the hotel, Vox would occasionally try to challenge Alastor in stupid games here and there cause yk

It was amusing so Alastor just played along the stupidityness LOL

And while reader was doing their contract paperwork thingy, they call out Alastor's name and not even a second later Alastor appeared behind them and reader was going to ask about hosting a meeting between all the overlords, with reader present!

"Alastor, dear?

"Yes, my Liege? How am I of your service?"

"Would you mind broadcasting through the radio about hosting a meeting with me present?"

"Certainly."

And since Alastor is the Radio Demon, let's just say that he could control the whole radio system and the waves, so his broadcast would go through all the overlords' radios that are present, or device rather

The meeting usually takes place at Carmilla's place!

And Alastor was reader's escort, hooking arms and all

I'll let you decide on what they're going to discuss, but I think it's very serious because their Collector had to be present!

Alastor and reader had to arrive early for some reason, Carmilla was still setting up the projector and her daughters were placing tea cups on the meeting table

And ofcourse they immediately greeted with a deep bow, and reader was just happy to see them, after all Carmilla was one of reader's elite Collections!

And reader gives Carmilla's daughters each a hug! Stating that they're still fun sized! (Definitely not Lucifer's influence)

And soon one by one overlords started entering, they were earlier than expected too, each was greeted by reader happily and all

Rosie also brought a gift for her dear Collector, a box full of flesh and thigh parts and demon skin, Rosie knew reader's favourite flesh!

And when the Vees entered.. well,

Vox was apologizing over and over again that Velvette had to slap the box tv guy and made him glitch

And the whole time Alastor was giving him a smug smile

And reader had to state Valentino a small warning, because his position as an overlord was in vain and it sent chills down the month's spine

And then discussion of deep and serious stuff

Until someone said something that triggered Vox that triggered Valentino that triggered Velvette

And the bickering made everyone else fall silent, because the Collector had also fell silent

And they were like 'how foolish..'

It was until reader couldn't take it anymore and the atmosphere turned dark, your color of choice chains were on the Vee's necks in which reader tugged on

And reader just snarled something threatening, making the three hang their head in shame

Then reader let go and the atmosphere were light again

"alrighty! So where were we my darlings?"

They stated in a cheerful voice as if they never even literally just threatened the Vees at all🤤

(kinda hot ngl, I'd like a y/n x reader) (I'm srs)

Aaaand then after the meeting, by the time Alastor and reader was back at the hotel, it was a coincidence that Lucifer had also just arrived and was unpacking because he was moving in the hotel as some kind of staff!

And Lucifer recognized reader the fastest way possible and literally just-

"gaspp! Is that you reader? It's been a while! How have you been holding up the overlords there huh?"

Completely exposed readers cover

ILL LET YOU DECIDE HOW IT ENDS HEHEHEHHEHE

Oops, almost forgot to send this out~

This was what I used as an outline for the recent story parts! Do check it out~

Collection of Overlords _ Part 5 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

The next part should be how The Collector is viewed from the demons' perspective, like not Hellborns, so sinners and the like. But before that, I'm going back to {Unwanted Soul} since that has been left a while.

[taechaos]

Your Boy, No?

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: You can't stand seeing Jungkook with another girl, so you give him a piece of your mind in a stranger's bedroom by becoming his outlet of sexual frustration.

warnings: losing virginity, riding, degradation

a/n: jungkook's character is not exactly submissive, so i added my own twists to this request. i hope you don't mind @madygswich c:

word count: 2.5k

You can't stop pouting. Holding back tears when seeing a woman perched up on Jungkook's lap while they make out has proven to be difficult, but you're trying. It hurts your heart; hell, you're aching everywhere. It doesn't take a genius to know he's doing it to get a reaction out of you when his eyes are throwing daggers at you with his tongue down another girl's throat.

Following Jungkook around like a lost puppy isn't ideal, especially at a frat party. He never gives you the time of the day if it's not out of menace, but you aren't willing to give up on him. It's just not possible when you are so in love with him, and so fucking jealous.

More than Jungkook, you're mad at the girl. You want to rip her heart out, make her suffer for ever touching the love of your life. You're becoming irrational, mentally cussing her out for being a whore while you stop yourself from breaking down in a house filled with horny young adults. You don't know a single person here, and you have to deal with your pent up emotions all by yourself.

You choke out a sob when Jungkook starts kneading the girl's ass shamelessly with her skirt hiked up to her back. They're being so inappropriate in the kitchen of a stranger's house, while you can't even take a sip from your spiked drink in the bustling living room. You abruptly stand up and throw away your plastic cup when Jungkook's hand disappears elsewhere, and you have an idea of what he's about to do. You march over to him, looking absolutely tiny next to the overbearing college students and you don't notice Jungkook's sinister smile as he watches you fume.

"Let go," you sound hoarse, and not at all intimidating when you push the girl off of his lap. She stumbles at the force, but you pay no mind to her confusion as you pull Jungkook up by his arm to drag him away. You think it's the anger and adrenaline giving you so much strength, but it's Jungkook amusing himself by allowing you to take him upstairs.

"This isn't a therapy session, little girl," he yells over the music, "I didn't come here to listen to you cry."

You huff and let a single tear slip before harshly wiping it away. When you reach the hallway, you enter the first bedroom you find. It's occupied by a foreplaying couple, but you're driven as you hiss, "Out!"

They leave at your demand, and you're confusing a lot of people tonight. Jungkook is surprised by your sudden aggression, but he doesn't stop with his remarks, "the chihuahua's gone mad."

"Shut up, Jungkook!" you whirl around angrily to face him. "How could you do that to me?!"

He quirks a brow. "Do what to you? I'm sorry, am I the one who forcefully brought you here? Am I tripping or are you?"

You push at his chest, "you're a fucking whore! Tonguing a girl in front of everyone, in front of me?"

His shoulders shake in silent laughter and you cross your arms when he starts cackling loudly. The music is drowned out and muffled behind the door, but it's nothing compared to how hysterically Jungkook is laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask lamely. He throws his head back as he clutches his stomach, and you're starting to get annoyed. You push him on the bed, but he's still laughing. "Quit it already," your voice wavers, but you don't back down as you smack his chest. You place your knees on both sides of his hips to limit his movement and cover his mouth to shut him up.

His crescent eyes turn intense instantly as he glares at you under his hooded lids. He exerts only a tiny bit of his energy into pushing your hand away and you weakly collapse on him. It's foul play to compete with his muscles, and you realize he can snap you in half if he wanted to regardless of your rush of adrenaline.

You sit back up as he lowly speaks, "The fuck's it to you? I wanted to fuck her, and I was going to until you stepped in as if you're my girlfriend. Tell me why I shouldn't go back to her right now." He clasps his hands under his head, making himself comfortable with your weight pressing against his crotch.

"You know why," you huff with a frown, and you look so cute in the dim lighting with your baggy knitted sweater bunching up on the sleeves, sitting on his bulge with so much innocence in your expression. He's smitten, but it doesn't show in his cold stare. "I'm your girl, and I won't tolerate you messing around with other women. It's slutty!" You slightly bounce for emphasis, but your knee-length skirt hides your actions. Jungkook feels it with you, and his eyes trail down to your lower region.

"My girl?" he parrots with a raised brow. He gazes back into your eyes. "You do my homework."

"I don't care. I love you," you plead pathetically, "please say you love me back."

"Wasn't I a whore just a second ago?"

"You were! Apologize to me," you harshly yank his head back by his hair. He doesn't react in the slightest, so you softly add, "please."

"Oh little girl," he sighs, "are you really trying to dominate me right now?"

"I am dominating you. Promise me you won't kiss another girl like that again. I won't forgive you a second time."

"Yeah? What's my loss?"

"Well, you're lazy in school," you bluntly state, "and no one loves you like I do. No one would try to cater to you like I do. I'd do anything for you, Kookie." You tug down your skirt to take it off and plop back down on him before saying, "Including sex. You can only use me for your sexual needs."

He's enamored by your words, but he doesn't dare share it with you. Instead, he thrusts upwards and you yelp when you jump. "Go on then," he says nonchalantly. "Show me how much of a slut you are."

"U-Um, okay," you stutter and start unzipping his black denim jeans. You've seen a lot of porn videos to make sure you were prepared for the next step with Jungkook, but you have no experience with penetration.

And he realizes that rather quickly when you're so meek with your actions. With a groan, he asks, "You're not a fucking virgin, are you?"

"I've been saving it for the right guy," you answer with offence. This is a special occasion, and you want him to take it as seriously as you do. But it's definitely not a good idea to be snarky with him when you can barely remember the steps for safe sex. "Do you have a condom?"

"It's in my pocket," he grumbles and points at his front without taking it out himself. You're excited and nervous as you tear the wrapper and take out the preservative. You have no idea how to put it on, but you're topping so you clumsily push down his briefs. Jungkook is surprisingly throbbing under you, and you blush at the sight of his erection.

He stops himself from teasing you and saying that the girl from earlier gave him this boner, but he doesn't want to be cruel yet. It's your first time, and truthfully, he jacks off to thought of you too often anyway. He can handle being somewhat nice by staying quiet, but that doesn't mean he would teach you how to put on a condom.

You slip it on with little struggle, and don't waste any time in positioning his cock in your entrance. Before he can stop you, you sink down on his length with a painful moan. He wants to tell you that losing your virginity in this position is the most painful, but instead he groans, "Holy shit, how are you so fucking tight?"

It hurts so fucking bad. Your tear ducts are like clockwork as they water instantly, but you lower yourself down to the hilt anyway. You're quite literally sitting on his cock as you try to catch your breath because God, you're in so much pain.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asks, but he's more worried about controlling himself from fucking into you before you can adjust. It's difficult, but he's trying.

"Jungkook," you whimper quietly with your eyes screwed shut, "it hurts."

"You're so fucking dumb for doing this, but you feel so fucking good," he pants as he holds your hips.

"Thank you," you muster out in a breath. A few seconds pass until the pain starts to numb, and you move against him very slowly. Your walls are stinging, but it feels like Heaven for Jungkook who you clench down on.

"Go up and down," he instructs with a bit lip. He tries to move your hips, but you're resisting in fear of another shock of pain. "Come on!"

"Can you wait?" you hiss through clenched teeth.

He's trying to rile you up when he says, "Sana wouldn't take this fucking long."

And it works, because you bounce once. "Don't say her name!"

He groans at your tightness, and he can't believe how wet you are. You're dripping on him, and he curses himself for holding back because of your hopeless romance. He can't entertain your conservative way of going on about this any longer, so he continues, "She would have made me cum by now, but this prissy princess can't even get a move on."

It's almost pathetic how one push from Jungkook makes you start moving, and it feels less uncomfortable to hop up and down against his pelvis. The filthy sound of slapping skin mixing with the generic radio music is making you feel so slutty because it's so stereotypical, but when Jungkook moans, it brings heat all over your body. You take your sweater off when sweat begins to cumulate on your temples, and he commands, "Take off your bra too."

He's thrusting into you as you unclasp the black material, freeing your breasts as he finds his new eyecandies. You are so pretty, your nipples are so hard, and your cunt sucks him in so perfectly. It almost upsets him when he realizes how much pleasure he's deprived himself of; the amount only you seem to be able to provide, because it's beyond physical intimacy.

"Good girl," he exhales and gently slams into you with his hands fondling your tits. You smile coyly through your tears, and he asks, "Does it still hurt?"

You contemplate for a second, because you don't feel the best yet, but you don't want to disappoint Jungkook either. "I-It doesn't," you lie.

Jungkook mentally rolls his eyes; he really wants to believe you so he can chase his high, but he sees right through you. He slaps your tit without mercy and chastises you, "don't lie. I thought this was your little moment of control."

"I'm sorry," you pout as you slowly ride him.

"Another lie," he slaps your other tit more harshly and you yelp.

"I'm not lying!" you plead and hasten your pace, desperate to sell your lie. It's working, because you're starting to feel a knot in your stomach the more you adjust.

He moans with you, and you lose yourself when he stills your hips and begins to fuck you himself. It's rough, loud, and the pain is your pleasure. His balls slap against your skin as he easily slides in and out of you with the help of your arousal. Your love dawns on him when you're so turned on for him without any foreplay, and he's on cloud nine because nothing can compare to being inside you.

The setting is so unlike you, fucking in someone's bedroom with a bunch of people behind the unlocked door who can barge in at any given moment, but he finds it so sexy. You only care about being with him, and you really do look like his slut now.

His hands start holding onto your ass, kneading it until it turns red with his fingerprints, and he demands you to kiss him. You're out of it, your ears are ringing and you can only moan out his name, but you can't bear to ignore him. Your lips fall on his, and the kiss is sloppy with his tongue all over your mouth. You can't keep up, but your chest swells with pride when you realize how needy he is for you. He goes as far as to spit in your mouth, and you swallow it without hesitation.

"You want me to play with your clit?" he murmurs against your lips, and his voice sounds so airy and melodic to your ears. "Hm? Want me to make you feel good, little slut?"

You whine without a clear response because his lips feel so soft and wet, and that's the only thing you can focus on. All you want to do is kiss him and he doesn't stop you from doing so, but you're even more overwhelmed when he starts touching you while penetrating you. "No," you whimper, "I'll cum."

"A slut can take it," he grunts and rubs your clit faster, and you come undone all too soon. You moan loudly as you tremble, shaking as he rides out your high with a pinch to your clit. You're numb when you collapse on top of him, but he's relentless with his thrusts. He's using your body as you intended, and he's vocal with his pleasure and teasing climax. It's remarkable how he holds you up when you've gone limp and still fucks you just as hard.

You want to record his voice when he starts to whine pathetically, but you have no energy left within. He's panting in your ear, and it's not long before his hips fall on the mattress with a sigh. He's surprised by how powerful his orgasm was, as he fills the condom with his release instantly. His cock is still nestled inside you as both of you recover from your climax.

"Get off," he taps your thigh, and he pushes you off when you don't obey immediately. Your spell has worn off as he starts to dress himself. "I'm going back to the dorms." You listen to him with your mind in a haze. "Unless you want to get raped on your way without me, get the fuck up now."

"Can you carry me please?"

He shrugs and swings your arm over his shoulder, picking up your body with ease. He collects your clothes in his hand, but doesn't hand them to you as he steps out of the room.

"W-Wait, Jungkook, I'm naked-"

"You're my girl, no? Be a good slut and shut the fuck up."

Dangling off his shoulder with your bare tits pressed against his back, you close your eyes and drift off on the way to campus.

Boyfriends typically drop their girlfriends off anyway, right?

[thefanficmonster]

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in. 

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

[spidercakes]

Please carry on the au where peter is a quickly rising pop star and tony is an international music legend!!!! I'm addicted to it!

Oof, it wasn't me who started that (I just reblogged it on account of I liked it too) but I figure what the hell, I’ll write a little thing with the same premise! This is more preslash than anything, but um. Hope you like it!

*

Sometimes Peter hates the lights, the yelling, all the flashing from the cameras but he also knows that this is what he gets stuck dealing with if he wants to have a music career and hey, it could be worse. He’s seen the way some other people in the music industry get treated and he knows he’s lucky that he got a decent manager, and his family- which really only consists of May- is supportive, and so are his friends. So if he has to deal with all the lights and cameras and people he can do that for until he can safely retreat to his hotel room and crash there for awhile before doing it all over again.

Its a lot though and sometimes Peter wishes he could take a step back from the public, take time for himself but that’s impossible when your face is all over billboards. Which is probably why he finds himself at the bar to begin with and its mostly industry people here so he doesn’t need to worry about anyone riding his ass about image. Yeah, he gets it, thirteen year olds love him but it does seem weird that somehow he ended up people’s role model rather than like... literally anyone else. The fans themselves though, they’re nice, its just their parents suck sometimes.

“And here I thought you pop stars were on short leashes. Who let you out to play?” someone asks and Peter swears to god��he knows that voice but there’s no way. He turns, pretty much hoping in equal parts that he’s right and wrong and when he turns out to be right he isn’t sure what he feels.

“Um. I mean, compared to you rock stars a drink really isn’t something to worry about, is it?” he asks and oh man he can’t believe he said that with that much confidence when he’s talking to Tony Stark. Tony fucking Stark, rock star legend, basically killed his career and revived it like five times. Split his band and managed to come back. Joined another and managed to rocket them into a level of fame that was even bigger than his last band. Has so many awards he probably has a room dedicated to them and only them. And that doesn’t even touch on the potential biopic Peter has heard rumors about. Ned called him at four in the morning about it because they’ve both had a crush on Tony Stark for basically as long as they’ve been alive.

Tony laughs, shaking his head. “I guess not, but pop stars tend to be all image, no substance. Kind of puts a damper on things if you ruin the image,” he points out.

Peter would like to prickle at that but he’s still in shock that Tony Stark is talking to him. “Is that what you think of my music?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and he just said that? With his mouth? Jesus Christ where is he getting this confidence?

“Not the songs that you wrote, no. But god help me if I have to hear any one of your catchy, irritating love songs on the radio, no offense,” he says.

“Be glad you don’t have to sing them,” Peter tells him because even he’s sick of them, not that he wrote them. He writes some of his stuff, but never the singles and wait, did Tony just compliment songs he wrote like he did enough research to know he wrote them? “Wait, how do you know which songs are mine?” he asks.

Tony snorts, “one, they aren’t garbage. Two, there’s real emotional substance. Sorry about your uncle,” he says, tone a little softer there and Peter sighs.

“Yeah. I had a long fight to get that on the album and people were surprised that it made charts.” Its slow, sad. Peter had written it on the anniversary of his death the year before and it made May cry.

“That doesn’t surprise me. That shit is why I avoid pop like the plague, no offense. But know I will absolutely be offended if you think rock is just as bad,” he says, lips quirking up a bit.

Peter lets out a breathy laugh. “Uh, no. I love your music, like really love your music. I’ve been listening to it for like... ever. I lost my virginity to your Man in Black album, I can’t believe I said that I’m going to go kill myself now,” he says, lifting his hand to cover his face as Tony barks out a laugh.

“Knew it had to happen at some point. Congrats on keeping your cool for that long. Believe it or not that isn’t the strangest thing I’ve had a fan say,” he says and Peter laughs.

“Oh I know, fans say some weird shit. I’ve had soccer moms say some um... not family friendly things to me in front of their children. They can get weird. I’m sorry I got weird, I hate when people get weird,” he says. Its always a little uncomfortable and he’s had to learn how to handle people being creepy at him. Liz gave him lessons given that she deals with it all the time being a beautiful woman. Peter never really thought he’d have to deal with that kind of thing but people treat celebrities different.

Tony shrugs, probably used to a lot worse than what Peter deals with. His fanbase is mostly teenagers and while they do regularly call him ‘daddy’ on Twitter it can’t be anything like Tony’s fanbase, which is like a billion times larger and consists of people from every age group and country. He doesn’t know how he’d handle that level of fame.

“So, are you actually all that wholesome shit they push or do you actually have a personality in there? Because your music, your music, suggests you aren’t really the America’s sweetheart kind of guy,” Tony says, head tilted to the side.

Peter shrugs, “I mean most of its true. Internet age makes it hard to lie when fans will literally show up at the hospital you were born at to find out what time, specifically, you were born at. But I wish I didn’t get stuck in pop music. Its not bad I guess but have you ever heard Bo Burnham’s Repeat Stuff, the comedy song he did making fun of pop? I feel that sometimes. Its all repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff and it gets a little exhausting. That’s what I’ve got though, so,” he shrugs.

“Word of advice, Peter, if you want to do what you want to do you’re going to have to fight for it. Managers and execs will fuck your face if you let them. They want to talk market and research and song length and workable study tested formulas but that ignores all the shit that suggests people will listen to whatever the hell you hand them if they like it. If you don’t fight back you’ll get stuck in that shit forever,” Tony tells him.

“Hmm. Guess you’d know, your whole career is pretty much yelling ‘fuck it’ and doing whatever you want.” Maybe a little too much of that if he counts the long period of alcoholism and drug use but he got clean years ago and once again somehow managed to revive his career.

Tony winces, apparently thinking the same thing. “Yeah, don’t do anything I would do. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do either. There’s a grey area, operate in there,” he says and Peter laughs.

“Okay, alright. Question though, if you hate pop so much how come you came over here to talk to me?” he asks. Because he’s kind of curious and the star struck feeling is fading.

“Your hot,” Tony says bluntly and Peter almost chokes on his air supply. “Don’t look so shocked, if pop knows how to do anything they know how to pick them pretty. Besides, you’re not the worst pop artist I’ve ever heard, you actually have talent, and Quill told me you were too wholesome to give me your number,” he says, nodding across the bar to holy fuck Peter actual Quill, who is looking pretty damn shocked right now.

“Oh, I’ll give you more than my number,” he says, wincing because he totally didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Tony grins though, “I knew you weren’t as wholesome as your image made you out to be,” he says, looking amused.

“Oh come on, can you blame them? Do I look like a rock star to you?” Peter says. They both know he looks like he could be a member of One Direction and that doesn’t really jive with the rock star image. He’s just glad he didn’t get jammed into country music. He would have quit on the spot, he refuses to sing about trucks and dirt roads. At least love songs are kind of sweet.

Tony looks him up and down and Peter is pretty sure he turns red in response. “I can work with that,” he says, grinning.

*

Ned calls him in the morning screaming and he lets him get it all out before trying to calm him down. “Oh my god you met Tony Stark!” he screams. MJ and Liz appear in the background and lean forward, lurking for answers.

Peter shrugs, “I mean yeah, we met,” he says coyly.

“Don’t make me pry the details out of you Parker,” MJ tells him. “You were wearing his jacket in the picture and I’m ninety percent sure you took it in a bed. Explain yourself.”

“I maybe got a bit of a rockstar makeover,” he says, shrugging like its no big deal. It so is and he wants to gush so bad but Tony is a person, not someone to brag about so he doesn’t. He wouldn’t like it if someone did that with him but also he’s losing his shit a little on the inside.

“A rock sta- oh my god are you still with him?” MJ asks, losing composure for half a second before she pulls her cool aloof look back together again.

“Hey guys. What do you think Twitter would do if I announced a collab?” he asks, appearing behind Peter and wrapping an arm around him. Ned faints, MJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and Liz leans into the camera hard.

“I love you,” she says, wincing and then pulling away. “I can’t believe I just said that. I’m going to go die now,” she says, scurrying off.

MJ points the camera at still passed out Ned. “Pretty sure that’s what Twitter would do,” she says and Tony laughs.

“He’s still alive, right?” he asks right as Ned wakes up.

“Oh my god I had the craziest dream,” he says.

[franklyshipping]

Festive Fiend ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

FESTIVE FIC NUMBER TWOOOOO! This prompt is from the lovely @lappyisgaming Wilford is looooving the festive season, buuut ends up getting a bit stuck….and a certain writer tries to assist in any way that he can….LETSA GOOO!

Wilford had never been happier. The radio was on with Fairytale of New York playing at a medium volume, and Wilford was traipsing about the living area with bundles of tinsel in his hands. He was on a mission. To make this place a damn festive wonderland. Dark had begrudgingly just allowed Wilford to do what he wanted, because when it came to festivities there was NO way to stop Wilford from having his way. So there he was, silver, pink, and red tinsel in his arms as he draped them over furniture and window sills and around light fixtures; he really was in his element.

“-and the bells were ringin’ out, for Christmas Day…..”

Wilford warbled along with a wide grin as he reached up to wrap some crimson around the small chandelier in the centre of the room, he could only just reach. The rest of the unused tinsel was pooled at his feet haphazardly, which was Wilford’s main mistake.

‘Come ooooon…..get…..get up ya piece o’-AHA!’

Wilford suddenly exclaimed as he flicked one end of the tinsel up and thus succeeded in decorating the hub of light, rather beautifully actually. Wilford went to turn around and shuffle towards the couch…..which was when he slipped. The floor was carpeted, but since all the tinsel was under his feet it meant that any small sense of balance the man might’ve had was wrecked.

‘Now the-FUCKING SANTA SHIT!’

Wilford exclaimed as he wobbled before falling to the floor on his back, but he thankfully wasn’t injured in any way. Wilford was just glad that no-one had been there to witness his clumsiness; he sat up fractionally to look down. Crap.

'Oh ya gotta be kidding me……’

Wilford wriggled his legs and feet about, but he couldn’t move them otherwise due to how literally ALL the tinsel was now wrapped and tangled round his ankles and calves. Wilford hurriedly went to reach for knotted tinsel, but then jumped at the sound of someone clearing their throat at the doorway.

'The Host wonders if Wilford is alri-’

The Host trailed off as he perceived Wilford’s predicament, and he couldn’t help but smile gently; something like this was bound to happen. Wilford felt a little bubble of embarrassment when he caught the Host’s smile, but he tried to shake it off.

'Ahhhh hey there Hosty! I uh, I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a pickle…..’

The Host paced forward, his arms were lightly folded at his chest as he fought back a gentle snicker.

'The Host noticed…..this sort of scenario was not entirely unexpected.’

'Hey!’

Wilford exclaimed, but he was grinning as the Host’s smile widened too. The latter tilted his head gently, his voice held a hint of amusement.

'May the Host offer his assistance?’

Wilford grinned, letting out a light chuckle as he placed a hand on his chest.

'Oh I would be most grateful.’

The Host let out a huffed laugh as he went to sit next to Wilford’s ankles, his hands immediatly going to feel the tinsel and begin trying to un-knot it. Wilford out a light sigh as he went to lie on his back, which made the Host snicker as he muttered.

'The Host never knew that someone could be so prone to chaos…..’

Wilford felt himself grin cheekily, letting out a small giggle as he replied.

'Why thank you!’

The Host withheld a sigh as Wilford boyish giggles filled his ears, he could feel the joyous waves coming from him and bounding round the room; it was quite lovely.

'That wasn’t a……oh never mind…..’

Wilford spluttered and giggled more at the Host’s light groan, and he leant up to peer at him as the latter fiddled with the tinsel which was still haphazardly tangled.

'You were totally complimenting me! Admit it!’

The Host pursed his lips, but Wilford could see him smiling despite him bowing his head.

'The Host would never do such a heinous thing…..’

Wilford gasped audibly, and switched his tone to that of light indignance when the Host chuckled a little.

'Yoooou’re a little liaaaar! You know you love me Hosty!’

The Host sighed, shaking his head as he flicked one of Wilford’s soles with a light mumble.

'You are unbelievable frivolous….’

Wilford was about to ask what the hell “frivolous” meant, but he ended up letting out a rather loud yip as his foot jerked. He couldn’t help it! The lightest…..sensations there could really affect Wilford. Wilford felt little fizzles of nerves build up when the Host paused, his head tilting to face him as he spoke curiously.

'The Host….wonders what prompted Wilford to make that noise?’

Wilford gulped a little and tried to play it off, waving one of his hands as he replied…..extremely quickly.

'Oh that? Pffft it was nothing, aaaabsolutely nothing….’

The Host listened to Wilford carefully, picking up on the nervous speed of his words and the strong insistance, the Host thought for a moment bfore he smiled. Of course. The Host shifted so that Wilford’s feet were in his lap, as said man fiddled with his hands….oh no.

'The Host thinks…..that it is Wilford, who is the little liar.’

Wilford shivered, unable to hide an embarrassed smile at the Host’s gentle tease; it was just enough to make him feel jittery.

'N-no I’m not! I-I’m not I s-swear!’

The Host felt a wave of satisfaction at the sound of Wilford’s stammers, and he couldn’t help but see it as rather cute; his innocent nerves were so pure and adorable. The Host felt his own smile widen as he placed one hand on Wilford’s ankles, grasping the tinsel so that Wilford couldn’t move them.

'Yes Wilford…..I think you are.’

The change in the Host’s speech was enough to throw Wilford off guard, so when a single finger dragged down Wilford’s sole he let out an unrestrained squeal.

'N-noho Hohohost d-dohon’t doho thihis!’

Wilford started to giggle continuously as the Host’s finger dragged all the way from the base of his toes, over the ball and down the sole where it reached his heel; the Host would give it a little flick before continuing back up. It was an evil cycle.

'Goodness Wilford, I’m barely touching you…..you must be ever so ticklish….’

Wilford felt his cheeks heat up as he giggled, attempting to tug at his ankles….but it was no use. The Host didn’t hold back his cheeky grin as he kept up the slow touch, loving Wilford’s reactions.

'Shuhuhut uhuhup! Th-thihis ihis meheheeean!’

Wilford whined with a few little squeaks as he moved to cover his pink cheeks, letting himself lie back on the carpet as he squirmed.

'But I'm hardly doing anything? Really Wilford, you do overexaggerate sometimes…..’

The Host trailed off with a fake sigh, which only made Wilford giggle harder; especially when he added more and more fingers to Wilford’s sole until all five were tracing and dragging.

'Nahahahat thihihihis tihihiiiiime! Hohost c'mohohohoooon!!’

Wilford wailed through his squeaky giggle fit, which was almost bordering cackles as he clenched his fists; his cheeks were more red than pink now.

'You’re really not making much sense Wilford, if you want my help then you’ll need to sort out your coherency.’

The Host knew he was being slightly cruel with his nonchalance, but it was so much fun teasing Wilford and making him blush with a few simple words; the opportunity to embarrass Wilford was a rare one, and the Host wanted to take advantage of it. He knew that Wilford didn’t really mind though, it was Wilford’s worst kept secret. 

'Fuhuhuhuhuck yohohohou!!’

Wilford banged his fists against the floor as he giggled hysterically, constantly trying to curl his toes and tug at his feet; which made the Host let out a small chuckle, he couldn’t keep up his ignorance.

'Is that really any way to speak to me Wilford? Particularly due to the position you are in…..’

The Host’s voice seemed to dim into a low purr as his words trailed off, and it sent a chill down Wilford’s spine as he gulped with a wide, nervous smile. Wilford’s giggling was loud and bubbly, and it flounced round the room as the Host’s fingertips danced on his soles; the single hand now alternated between both soles which kept Wilford guessing, as well as yelping.

'Ihihihi’m sahahaharry!! J-juhuhust gehet mehe ohout ohof thihihis!!’

Wilford stammered and whined as he tugged harder at his ankles, which still showed no hints of budging. The Host meanwhile raised an eyebrow, and grinned as he elected to scratch at Wilford’s heels which made him snort and cackle rather raucously; the Host spoke over the noise teasingly.

'Mmm, I did say I would assist…..but you’ll have to ask me nicely, and politely. Or I might just keep you here.’

Wilford’s cheeks were red from embarrassment as the Host’s words melted in his ears, since when was the Host so damn good at teasing?! As Wilford threw his head back in mirth, the Host merely snickered as he pondered on what to do next; he hummed as his fingertips moved up to scratch at the balls of Wilford’s feet. Wilford noticed.

'OHOHOHO GAHAHAD NOHOHO PLEHEHEASE HOHOHOST!!’

Wilford exclaimed with a loud squeal as he scrunched his feet, but it didn’t do any good against the Host’s onslaught; said man chuckled gently, observing Wilford’s reactions was rather fun.

'Oh but why ever not Wilford? Your reactions are adorably intriguing, I can't help but want to hear more......'

Wilford's cheeks had surpassed the shade of crimson by this point, and through his cackly laughter he wailed with jittery indignance.

'NOHOHOHOHO THEHEY'RE NAHAHAHAHAT!!'

The Host tilted his head at Wilford curiously, smiling gently as tears began to build in the corners of Wilford's eyes as his hands busied themselves with covering his burning cheeks. Although Wilford's words did vex the Host. How could Wilford not see how amazing and cute his reactions were? As the Host's fingertips lazily scratched up and down Wilford's soles to give him a light breather, the Host focused on Wilford. Ah. Of course. Wilford's utter embarrassment was what hindered him, and it seemed that referring to him as any such term like ''adorable'' made it worse. Intriguing indeed.

'Oh but I assure you they are, your laughter and unrestrained noises reflect your unabashed joy, and your flush only cements your flusteredness and your clear enjoyment at what is being done to you.'

Wilford was encased in giggles as the Host's words melted in his ears and made him shiver. When the Host said something, anything, it would always have more meaning; now was no different. Wilford could feel fizzles and butterflies shooting through his system as he squirmed and peeked through his fingers.

'Shuhuhuht uhuhup! Y-yohou're m-mahakihing ihit w-wohohohorse!!'

As soon as his words left his lips, Wilford found himself gasping and yipping nervously as the Host's movements came to a halt. Wilford's heart was rampaging as one of the Host's hands went to un-scrunch his toes....oh god. The Host faced him with a deft smirk as a single word flew from him.

'Good.'

Wilford emitted a purely ungodly screech as he felt the torturous, scratching sensation under his toes. It was partially delicate, and yet so intense that it made Wilford arch his back and cry out.

'AHHHHHHHHHH NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!'

He was gasping and squealing as his whole body thrashed, and the Host kept his touch meticulous as he fluttered and tickled every little inch of ticklish skin that the area had to offer. Except he wasn't using his fingers. Just by chance, one end of the tinsel wrapped around Wilford's ankles was just able to reach round.....so the Host took advantage of it. He worked it underneath and in-between the toes, and even spared a few little flicks to the toes themselves which made Wilford snort and wail beautifully.

'Tickle tickle tickle.....you poor sensitive thing, this must just feel maddening.'

It did. It really did. The Host chuckled as he exploited Wilford's sensitivity for a few moments more, feeling elated at how desperate and yet how incredibly happy Wilford was amidst his torment.

'PLEHEHEHEHEHE!!! GEHEHEHET IHIHIHIHIT AWAHAHAHAHAHAY!!!'

Wilford was close to his limit, his mind slowly beginning to crumble at the relentless sensations.....who knew a simple decoration could do so much? Well, Wilford certainly knew now. The Host grinned, knowing that Wilford wouldn't be able to take much more so he withdrew the tool carefully and let it flop to the floor as Wilford gasped and let his body flop on the floor; he was rather exhausted. The Host kept facing him as he muttered.

''The tangled tinsel became easily undone around Wilford's ankles, so that he would have no difficulty removing it and regaining his mobility.''

Wilford blinked a few times as he felt himself able to shift his feet and shins, and he slowly sat up so that he could yank the bindings away and bring his legs towards him so he could hurriedly hug his knees. There was a brief moment of silence. Wilford looked up towards the Host, who still bore a gentle smile; the moustached man narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at him.

'You.....are an evil little fiend!'

There was barely five seconds before both men burst into laughter, the Host chuckling softly with a hand over his mouth as Wilford's bubbly giggles bounced round the room. The Host's dimples were on show as Wilford's eyes shone, and the former grinned widely as he replied.

'The Host aims to please.'

Wilford spluttered and shook his head, narrowing his eyes for a moment before jumping to his feet and looking down at the Host; he smirked and offered him his hand.

'And you always do. Now c'mon I need décor feedback!'

The Host chuckled again, allowing Wilford to pull him to his feet as he launched into a vivid description of what he'd achieved so far. The Host already knew, he already knew exactly what he'd done and where. But he let him ramble away because it was better. The Host may have been able to see all, but seeing something through the eyes of Wilford Warfstache was always that bit better.

FIC COMPLEEEEETE HOPE YA LIKE IT AAAND I LUUV YOUS XX

[borderline-rat]

Hmmm right so I absolutely don't wanna start a war here. But I would love to share some info about Michael Youn.

You know, not so long ago, I wasn't much into Michael's work, mostly because I didn't know shit about it. To me, he remained this guy making pranks and jokes on French telly and radio. But then, somehow, I ended up digging a bit more into his character.

Because... Yeah. Michael Youn is a character. He plays a role pretty much constantly, on TV, when he's interviewed and so on, you can see another person behind this image of careless guy who just bases his fame on quite vulgar and easy humour. Obviously, not gonna lie, when he left his TV shows to start an actor carrier, it wasn't much of a treasure to dig up, playing mostly in French comedies that are either adored by a part of French audience, either despised by the other half (okay, I'm biased on this because I have to admit I'm definitely not a big fan of this vibe).

However, with the movie Fatal, Michael was not only an actor, but also a director, and that changes a lot of things. Firstly, the sheer fact that he worked his arse off for a project that he cared about, believed in, having to direct a whole team while also playing his character, Fatal, a character he created before the movie and whom he used for some other funny media such as parodic video clips.

That's the second point. Fatal is Michael's alter ego, and he was before the movie was created or even imagined. Michael saw Fatal, and decided, entirely purposely and awarely, to present him as a joke, as I mentioned, a parody, a joke about hardcore rappers and their flashy aesthetic. He played this role, had fun with it, and that was his goal.

He reached it... A bit too much. Many people took Fatal very seriously, first degree if I may put it that way, and his fame slid from a harmless but witty joke to something he suddenly had way more power over.

And instead of surfing on this wave of easy fame and play the game big media such as TV and radio were putting him into... He made the movie Fatal. And that's where his character takes all his depth.

So yes, surely, the movie isn't a masterpiece. But it's funny, amusing, cleverly made and really witty. But mostly... It's intelligent, and the subtext it intends to diffuse - that Michael himself intends to diffuse - is way deeper than what you might see at first.

For those who might not know, the movie Fatal is about the aforementioned rapper, who's a literal musical legend and finds himself spiraling down after he gets overpowered by another singer, played by Stephane Rousseau.

Not only it is well balanced between trash humour and deeper topics, with rather well directed actors, it also critiscise modern media and their latent hypocrisy, the forced necessity of pop music to renew itself so the public will always follow, making them sheeps blindly listening to formated music, but also displays a quite obvious depiction of the life of pop music artists, who have, too, to play a character pretty much all the time to make sure that, here, too, the audience will still love and follow them, as all media constantly keep track of their personal life and keep a wary eye on any mistake they could make that could create a debate, a buzz, whatever could be publicly discussed, leaving little to no privacy to the artists.

Moreover, the whole plot, behind its light tone, is actually a parallel with Michael / Fatal relationship. The movie is so metaphysical it screams META in your face at every scene. Especially the ending where the two singers must have a fight to find out who's worth the first place on charts. Instead of fighting, the two musician end up congratulating each other and recognising and admitting each other's talent. Fatal makes a speech about how stupid this whole situation is, and asks the audience to react and break the rule, to help them stopping those forced battles and respect art just as it is and for what it is... And that's where cleverness reaches its apogee: the audience refuses. It could have ended well, everyone hand in hand on the scene, saying fuck off to the TV show, to the over-the-top presentator, but no. The audience wants the fight. And so they fight until the end. Ultimately, the movie's end manages to still be funny and light, but this scene... This scene tells it all.

Here's why.

Earlier, I was talking about how Michael constantly plays a character, not only Fatal but just a character. He rarely, if ever, is himself when showing himself on telly or wherever. Whenever an interviewer tries to make him talk about deep or personal topics, he shuts down, sometimes quite violently, whether you can see him being way more natural when he shares moments with friends, for instance on YouTube videos he was invited in on some French channels, where he could talk a bit about his personal life, still lightly, but with a sincerity you don't see, and never see, when he's showed on big media.

So now I can hear you say, but why and how can he both take advantage of the fame he gathered with his Fatal character, and still criticise the way he got here?

There's a movie explaining it all. It's called Héros, and it's very hard to find, plus it's in French, but if I find a streaming link I'll share it. And this whole movie explains Michael's ways of thinking.

I can't sum up the plot because it's a real maze and also sometimes absolutely absurd, not in a bad way, just meaning that some scenes are symbolic to the point where you can't separate facts from metaphors. But to make it short, it's about a guy, played by Michael himself, who's a stand-up artist playing on stage before big shows. That's what he does, that's his job, he has a bit of fame from it, and whenever he gets interviewed, just as in the movie Fatal, he's asked to do what the audience expects: makes them laugh. Fatal must sing and be a flashy rapper, Michael in Héros (I think his name in the movie is Pierre) must make people have a laugh.

And he gets so fucking tired of it. Just as Michael, in real life, gets tired to be asked what to do and when to do it, whether he's asked to be Fatal or asked to be himself. He's tired of orders, he's tired of expectations. So, back to Héros. Pierre ends up kidnapping a star he's a big fan of and calls all media he can to tell hey, I've got This Bloke, take a look at what's going on. Is he going to ask for a ransom? Money? Is he gonna kill him to show his anger?

Nope. He just wants to be listened to. He asks the police of whoever else to find a girl he was in love with when he was young. To get her on the phone in front of all the spectators, expecting, eagerly, thirsty for newness, sensationalism and shivers, and he wants to deceive them. He wants to break their expectations, he wants to show them something true.

I won't tell what happens next because I spoiled a lot already, and so many more things happen, and even more meta, breaking the fourth wall regularly, and making connections between characters that I can't develop in just this small essay.

But if you wanna understand why Michael Youn is more than just a guy doing easy jokes and not taking shit seriously, take a look at Héros, just look at this simple scene where he gets his ex girlfriend on the phone and tells her that all he wanted was to talk to her, to show the whole world he wasn't just a clown, that he refuses to give people what they want. That's what Michael does. He plays with Fatal and he knows his limits so he won't fall into becoming him. He shuts himself down in front of forced confessions because he doesn't want to give out pieces of himself that remain his own.

So I won't say this guy is a pure, misunderstood genius. But he's cleverer, sadder, and deeper than what first comes to one's mind. In Héros, he literally plays what he could have been, what he might have been, in his mind, back in 2007 when the movie came out.

No one saw it, by the way. The director didn't do anything else and is a total stranger. No one cared about Héros. Maybe because it wasn't very well presented, if at all, maybe because, simply, that wasn't what people were expecting of Funny Guy Fatal Michael Youn. Maybe both. I have no clue, I saw the movie years after.

All I know is that I liked Fatal. I like Michael Youn. I admire his hidden sincerity, I admire his integrity, I admire his sneaky ways to distillate a message to a small part of his audience who might be aware enough to listen to it, and I also admire his fear of opening himself entirely instead of slithering this way, because, yes, being openly against the system is scary and hard, but he tries, and at some level, he does it.

What's definitely certain is that with Héros, it was more than successful. It was his testimony, his message, his answer to all the questions that can be asked about what the fuck he's doing and to people spitting on him, not to defend himself, but to show he just doesn't care because that's not what he seeks.

Take a look at Fatal. You'll have a nice time. Dig up a bit under the shiny cover.

Stay aware. Many people are more than what they show.

What's your favourite movie and why?

My favorite movie is a French one named “Fatal”! It’s about… a French musician/French rapper who falls down from being the number one to become a looser. And honestly this whole movie is hilarious. I love it with my whole heart. It’s on the French Netflix tbh, idk if you can find it in subbed….

[torisfeather]

Also on Archive of our own : http://archiveofourown.org/works/10930521/chapters/24774624

Sweat was running down his back, leaving a long icy trail. His chest was wrapped in an iron grip, and helicopter blades  were desperately trying to dig themselves a passage out of his stomach. His legs could barely carry him, and wouldn't even think of walking. His father's hand on his shoulder was the only thing reminding him of moving in the noisy corridor, behind the dark skinned woman.

He wasn't scared.

He was terrified.

He hadn't chosen to be here. If he had any say in it, he would have become a hermit and hid in the depths of the Chinese countryside for the rest of his life. He did not want this school. He didn't not want those classmates. He was a real danger for everyone, and they wanted him to live among a hundred potential victims. Best. Idea. Ever. It was about as wise as giving a kindergartener an armed grenade.

He didn't know what his parents had believed to think even one second that coming here would solve his "problem". For now, all he hoped was that the kitchen only used electricity. That nobody would light a candle or a fireplace in his presence. And that he'd remember not to use the lighter he preciously kept in his pocket.

He vaguely heard the young woman speak with his parents before they left. They looked a little worried, but mostly relieved. Probably because they could finally get away from their freak of a son. He felt anger rising. He bit his tongue, tried to calm down. Stay zen. He couldn't take it out on them for being scared of him. He was dangerous, it was normal to be afraid.

She smiled at him kindly before turning around and leaving. She had other kids to greet. He waited until she disappeared around the corner to open the door to his new bedroom.

His blood froze cold when he realized there were two beds, and someone was currently reading, lying on one of them. A roommate? Really?

It was a pale giant with cinder hair. The bed looked almost too small for him. He was wearing the school's uniform with a scarf. This imposing appearance was completely contrasting with the tiny little book he was holding delicately in his hands. The title was Russian but the cover was decorated with a beautiful drawing of a bird with long burning feathers.

The giant looked up and stuck his purple gaze into his brown eyes. A small content smile was settled on his lips and didn't seem to want to leave anytime soon. "Hi!" he said as he put his book down.

He stood up and stretched. Now Yao had to look up to see his face. High up. It wouldn't be as intimidating if the Russian wasn't as large and if his little smile wasn't this creepy. Yao had had to deal with big guys like him but this one had something scarier, like some sort of dark aura surrounding him. It was fascinating in some way. "You are my new roommate, da?" he said like nothing was wrong.

Yao nodded. He wasn't going to show he was afraid. At least, now he could focus on him rather than on his fear of screwing up during class. The giant had a small laugh that sounded too innocent for his strong built.

"I hope we'll be very good friends! I'm Ivan, you?"

"Yao."

His head tilted to the side, without losing his smile. "Yao sounds nice." He laughed again. It sounded like the amused giggle of a child noticing their hamster is trying to leave its cage. "It sounds like a cry of joy," he said softly. "Yao! Yao! Like a party!"

"Um… Thanks?"

"You're welcome."

Yao was growing more and more awkward. The talk sounded strange. The voice of the giant named Ivan was too light, too delicate, too childish. And cute as hell. But it didn't fit the body it belonged to.

Ivan walked up to him and held his hand out. For a handshake, occidental tradition. Slightly hesitant, Yao shook it. His skin was strangely cold, in spite of the warmth of the room. The Russian frowned worriedly. "You're hot."

"What?"

"I mean you look like you have a temperature."

"Oh… No, really, I'm fine."

"Ufufu, good!"

They let go but the cold stayed for a few moments inside Yao's palm. Ivan was staring attentively behind his innocent face. It was impossible to know what was hidden under his calm little smile. "You are very, very cute, Yao-Yao," he said softly.

Yao chocked. "What?"

"I said you were very cute," he said again, calmly. He walked forth and caught his chin firmly. His smile grew more devilish as he steadily brought their two faces closer. "Say… Would you like to be one with me?"

"Wh… I… N…"

Yao was doing his best but he couldn't pronounce a single word. His breathing picked up, and so did his heart as if it was trying to climb up his throat. His head started to spin slightly and he felt a hot flash flooding him as Ivan's icy hands laid upon his cheeks. His face was growing closer still. He was going to kiss him. "I'm… I'm not feeling very good," he said, retreating.

Surprised, Ivan stood back and his concerned face appeared again. "Yao-Yao has a fever after all!"

"I… No… I… I'm just hot… I just need some fresh air…" Yao turned around and hurried out. He needed to get out of here. Fast. He felt like it was important. He was going to locked himself up in the bathroom, wait it out…

Suddenly, his legs refused to obey. They froze as he was about to walk out the door. Horrified, he looked down, only to find out his feet were trapped in two ice chunks stuck to the floor. He pulled and pulled and pulled but they wouldn't budge.

Ivan closed in behind him and laid his hand on his shoulders, gently. "No, my Yao-Yao won't run away this time…" whispered his sweet voice, drawing shivers out of the Chinese boy. Petrified, Yao watched as he placed himself in front of him with his toxic little smile. "If you are hot, Yao-Yao, why don't you take some of your clothes off?"

"No! No, no stop! Qǐng!"

"What is it? Is my Yao-Yao hiding something from me?" His voice was still giving him shivers, filling him with terror and some other feeling he couldn't really describe. Yao was usually brave. But right now, he was literally frozen in place as Ivan slowly took away every piece of fabric covering him. "Yao-Yao is mine, right? So Yao-Yao shouldn't hide anything from me!"

No! No, he couldn't see him! He should never see him like this! No, this was wrong! He couldn't see this! No way! No! No!

Yao's eyes shot open. He sat up. The room was dark, except for the time glowing red on the radio. Ivan shifted in the other bed, probably dreaming about sunflowers and vodka.

A dream. Just a dream.

He laid back down, hugging close his Shinatty-chan. But he couldn't go back to sleep.

Even in his dreams, that damn Russian should never, ever, ever find out about his stupid secret.

The PCD classroom was quite peculiar. As large as a small gymnasium, it was separated from the rest of the building by the playground's length. To get in, you had to cross two iron doors separated by an airlock. Just what you needed to feel awkward while entering.

The lessons used to happen in a normal classroom, inside the building. But several accidents, including but not limited to a fire, a flood and the emission of a smell of rotten egg in the entire building for several hours had convinced the principle it was necessary to take precaution measures. Just to make sure not everyone would die because someone sneezed at the wrong moment.

The floor was made of light wood that sounded like it was hollow when one stepped on it. "Like a dance studio," Lily shyly commented. The ceiling was high and, like a gymnasium, showed the girders carrying the roof. Tables and chairs were cast against the walls instead of being arranged in the middle as they would be for any kind of lesson. A door in the far left opened on a stockroom full of various objects, from simple paper sheets to baseball bats. There was also half a dozen fire extinguishers in a corner. Another door, opposite to the first one, led to a small projection room.

The first years were waiting, wearing the sportswear Luna had given them when they came in. Mei and Faustina were thoroughly biting their painted nails while Vash was talking his sister out of doing the same thing. Kiku was playing statues again, the Italian twins were getting rid of the stress by talking loudly with extensive gestures to anyone who'd listen, Feliks seemed like he was daydreaming, just like Tino whose arm Peter didn't want to let go of. Let's just say they were nervous.

Tension reached its peak when Luna came back from the dressing room, a file in hand. With a large smile, she gave them small sheets of paper and pens.

"Surname, first name, age and power if you know it. Oh, and everything I'd need to know if you have health issues. And please hurry."

Kiku, Vash and Peter started right away. The other kids shared incredulous looks. Seriously, even in a class about supernatural powers, they had to fill in information papers? According to Luna's serious look, they did.

"Like, that's lame…" Feliks sighed.

And for the first time, everyone agreed.

Eventually all the papers were done and given back to Luna. The young woman suddenly had a very scary smile and walked to the center of the room. "Good, now, you're going to run ten laps around the room! No slacking off! Then you'll do one sprinting, another one sidestepped, one heels high and one knees high. And when you're done, get in the middle so you can stretch, alright? Let's go!"

This time, the look they shared was stunned. But Luna didn't give anybody any time to whine and drilled their eardrums with a whistle she seemingly pulled out of thin air.

They started moving, with more or less enthusiasm. Kiku, as a student paragon, was doing his best and running like he was at the Olympics. At least for the first few seconds, for his mishandled body snapped at him and made him slow down. Tino looked like he had chosen to mother Peter and was encouraging him and helping him to keep up, which he managed pretty well. What the younger boy didn't have physically, he had in will. As for Vash, he was treating Lily like a porcelain doll and managed to encourage her while asking every three seconds if she needed to rest. Romano decided he wanted to look manly and tried to run in a cool way in front of Mei and Faustina, but he tripped and ate the floor. When he got back up, pouting as red as a tomato, the two girls giggled and said he was "just so cute", which achieved to make him depressed. And Feliks and Feliciano had started talking about pasta, fashion and ponies when Luna chased them with her whistle to force them to go faster.

It wasn't even a warm-up. Luna was pushing them to their limits, making them run as much as possible. When she'd notice one wasn't about to collapse from exhaustion, she'd give them one more lap to finish them. Once they were done, exhausted, extenuated, dead to the world, the teenagers fell to the ground to stretch as Luna read their papers. Apparently, most of them had no idea what they could do. That wasn't helping, but at least the class would be fun.

"Alright everyone! Are you ready to start?" It was dead silent in the room. The few students still alive glared at her. A smirk showed up on her lips. Of course they didn't like it, but tiring them physically was the best way to wake up their capacities, while keeping them easy to control. The idea was to have a clear mind to focus on one thing at a time. "Well it looks good… We're making three groups. Kiku, Peter and Faustina, you're going in the corner by the main entrance. Feliks, Mei, Vash and Lily, go sit down by the projection room. Tino, Lovino, Feliciano, go wait for me by the stockroom."

The kids obeyed, too tired to protest. Tino almost had to carry the Italian twins all by himself. The two brothers looked like they were going to pass out.

Kiku, Peter and Faustina opened wide eyes when their teacher came back from the stock room with a large wheeled mirror and paper sheets. Luna caught her breath before explaining. "You three already know your own capacities. Looking younger, giving life to origamis and enter mirrors," she said, pointing at each of them.

The two boys gave the young girl an impressed look, which made her blush a little.

"You've found out about those capacities by accident, from intense emotions," Luna continued like it was no big deal. "That's the first step. Now, your goal will be to learn to use your power intentionally, which means without any outside disturbance. Questions?"

No one spoke.

"Perfect. Kiku, come here."

She sat the Japanese boy at a table and gave him a white paper sheet. "You are going to make an origami. Preferably something easy to animate, like an animal. Then you'll try to give it life through visualization. Can you do that?

"Uh… I think I c…"

"Good. Get to it." She left him with the paper, dumbfounded. Slowly, the Japanese boy tried to stay calm and started to carefully fold the paper into a crane.

After she left Faustina with her hands on the mirror's surface, trying to remember how to get in, Luna had to face Peter's enthusiasm as he looked up at her with eyes filled with hope. She knelt to his level, uneasy.

"Er… Peter? Listen… Your capacity is a bit peculiar so I'd rather if we worked on it together later. Is that alright?" At the little boy's disappointed face, she quickly added: "But I'd like you to help with the others for now. You'll be my assistant, how does that sound?" He nodded and forced a small smile. She felt sorry for him. She knew how much he wanted to get his old appearance back.

Suddenly, she had an idea. She called Lily and gave Peter a keychain. "Peter, I'd like you to bring Lily to the school library. Take the most interesting book you can find. When you're done, don't forget to close the door. Oh, and then, please go to the biology lab and ask Mr. Bondvik for a mouse."

"A what?"

"A mouse. You know, the little animal that has a long tail and likes cheese. Ask him for one. And specify that it has to be alive, alright? And if you could hurry, it would be perfect."

Peter and Lily shared a stunned looked before obeying.

Luna smiled as they left. Then she looked at Feliks, Mei and Vash and thought for a little while…

"DVDs?"

Luna happily nodded. The three students were standing in the projection room, unsure. Smaller, it looked a little more like a classroom. There was a projection screen in front of the tables, right above a DVD player already on. They heard Luna whine about "idiots who never turn the devices off after using them" as she slipped the first disk into the player.

"Wow, that's, like, awesome! We're gonna watch movies?" Feliks exclaimed as he sat on one of the desks.

Luna had an amused chuckle but didn't answer. Vash and Mei sat down as well, not as excited as their classmate. Luna turned the projector on, the light off and around after asking them to tell her if anything weird happened.

The three kids shared a look and focused on the movie.

Ten minutes later, terrified screams raised from the little room as the students watched the horror movie the teacher was showing them.

Now came the most difficult part. Luna headed towards Tino and the Italian twins who looked a little better. She gave them a shimmering smile as she walked to them.

"So, who wants to go first?" she chirped.

Tino immediately knew something was up and stepped back. Lovino also guessed what was going on and hid behind the Finnish boy. As for Feliciano…

"Ve! Sure, I do! What are we going to do? Pasta? Pasta sounds good!"

The three students were each tasked with something: Feliciano had to run around the room without stopping, Tino had to befriend the adorable mouse Peter and Lily had brought back, and Lovino just had to jump on one spot. Luna had then left, pretending she had to go get something.

After a few minutes, all three of them had stopped doing the exercises they deemed pointless. And since Luna wasn't back yet, they started chatting.

After about fifteen minutes of talking, they started to worry about their teacher being gone for so long.

The bell rang the end of the first hour, but still no teacher around. Kiku and Faustina were still focused on their exercises and the others were enjoying their movie with panicked screams. Peter was listening as Lily read her book out loud, in a corner.

After another half-hour of waiting, the Italians and the Finnish boy wanted to go see what was taking Luna so long, when suddenly everything went black.

Everything.

Even the windows that should have let some of the morning sunlight in were suddenly dark. Total darkness. The students could have sworn they had suddenly gone blind. Tino, Feliciano, Lovino, Lily, Peter and Faustina screamed as one. Kiku stayed calm, though.

The light slowly came back until the kids were surrounded by purplish darkness that reminded them of a haunted house. Lovino felt like he had to yell "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" just so he could express a little bit of his fear as his twin just clung to him, crying and calling for help.

Suddenly, red light exploded in the entrance, and a dark, menacing silhouette emerged from it. It had claws longer than Wolverine's, and as if that wasn't enough, it had a large butcher knife in each hand. Its face was hidden under a slenderman white mask and it wore some sort of long coat hiding its body entirely. It didn't let the student stare at it any longer and dashed towards the twins.

Lovino hid behind the first thing that could serve as a shield, which was a shaking Tino with a mouse in his hands. As for Feliciano, he ran away immediately. The thing followed him with heavy footsteps and terrible roars. Completely panicked, he rushed to the door which happened to be locked. Terrified, he started to run again, the monster following him.

As the creature was about the catch him and he thought he was about to die, probably more from asphyxia than from bloody murder committed by a killer monster, he was surprised when his legs started moving even faster without tiring him more. He didn't stop to ask why, though, and kept running faster and faster to try and get away from this menacing thing.

Realizing its target was fleeing, the creature stopped and turned to Tino and Lovino with a menacing glare. Paralyzed with fear, the two teenagers could only walk back against the wall as the monster closed in. Tino whispered a barely audible "help".

He had only just said this word when his mouse jumped from his hands and onto the masked monster's face to burry its teeth in its skin.

The thing let out a terribly feminine cry and fell over.

"Ouch! Ouchie! Ok, ok! Fine, I give up! Ouch, Tino, call your mouse back!"

The light came back immediately and everyone could see, instead of the hideous creature… Miss Luna Chrones, dressed in a long black coat, cardboard claws and plastic knives, fighting with a rodent that was trying to eat her face. A white hood had fallen to the ground. Everybody stared, stupefied.

"No really, get that thing off me, please!"

They needed a few minutes to strip their teacher from her horror show outfit. Back in her usual clothes, it was hard to believe it was the same monster who attacked them earlier. Apart for the teeth marks on her face, it was like she never even left.

"Uh… So, ma'am? Would you tell us why you did that?" Faustina asked, fists on her hips and angry faced, obviously upset.

"Ahaha, you didn't like it?" the dark skinned teacher said.

Silence.

"Uh… Ok…" She cleared her throat slightly and stretched her back before explaining with a clear voice. "It is difficult, nearly impossible, to trigger consciously the first manifestation of your power. Capacities usually stay dormant until puberty and only manifest, in general, as a reaction to a powerful emotion."

"It's really just like the X-men, then," Peter commented.

"… So I tried to use the emotions most easy to generate: fright and surprise. Normally, we shouldn't need more than three sessions for the whole class to know what it can do. This was already nice results!"

"Uh, nothing really happened…" Lovino grumbled.

When she heard this, Luna smiled. Nobody dared to move when she walked up to a table, grabbed a weird device from it and came back fidgeting with the screen. "Feliciano," she called. The boy walked forth with a distracted "ve". "What a nice sprint you did when I almost caught you."

"Vehehe, you scared me, ma'am!

"Precisely. Look at the speed it saved."

Curious, the Italian boy took a look at the screen and tilted his head, unsure. "Ve… Sixty kilometers per hour… Is that good?"

"It's more than the world record of speed. No human being can run this fast." Then, when she saw Feliciano's still concerned face, she added: "Yes, it is good."

"Ve!"

"Besides, this was the first time, by accident. If you train, you'll be able to run even faster.

"So that's my power? ... I would have liked something that helps making pasta more."

Luna chuckled at his slight disappointment, and then turned to Tino as he cuddled the mouse who tried to save his life. "Tino? Do you know why your mouse jumped on me earlier?"

"Uh… I think?" he said, hesitantly. "I asked for help and Aurajuusto…"

"Who?"

"Huh? Oh, that's its name, it sounds nice, doesn't it?" The Finnish boy smiled as he pointed at the mouse trying to climb his shirt.

"It is a nice name," Kiku said. "What does it mean?"

"Blue cheese!" the blond boy proudly said. No one dared to say it was weird. But they were thinking it really hard. "Anyway," Tino continued. "Aurajuusto felt I was in danger and protected me. Even if I'm not sure wh… Wait, that's my power? Being protected by little critters?"

"Well… Sort of? It works with other animals as well and…" Luna stopped, as the Finnish wasn't listening, all too glad about his capacity. With a sigh, she turned to the last kid in the group, which was none other than the sulking Lovino a few feet away. "However, I am disappointed your power didn't manifest," she said. "But I suppose we should play more on surprise for this."

"Ha! Good luck with that!" the boy mocked.

"Why?"

"I'm never surprised! You can ask Feli, he tries all the time and it never works!"

"Ve… You kinda jumped pretty hard, last time, fratello."

"Shut up, bastard, that's not because I was surprised, that's because… Whatever! I just don't get…"

"SURPRIIIIIIIISE!"

Antonio had been waiting in front of the PCD room for a while now. Luna had come earlier, in the middle of a chemistry lesson, and asked him to help her with what she called an "emergency". Well, he was bored right now, and he didn't know why he should stay and wait when he was done with what she asked him to do.

He opened the first door, and then the second one, pretty silently. Back in her usual clothes, Luna was explaining something to the students who listened attentively. Well, she probably didn't need him anymo… He spotted Lovino among the others and a little smirk showed up on his lips. He tried to get closer to the group without being noticed by his target.

Just a little joke, he could do that, right? After all, the Italian boy wasn't going to hold a grudge against him for this, right? Besides, he was so cute when he was angry, he looked like a big ripe tomato! Yes, tomatoes are very cute. Especially the ones that yell at you while growing even redder… Wait, tomatoes didn't do this. Oh well, whatever, he was almost there!

He heard Lovino bragging about never being surprised was he reduced the distance, as slow as a spy turtle. That was probably very cute as well, a spy turtle that is. He would have said a ninja turtle, but copyrights, besides "spy" sounds better. What was he thinking about again? Oh, right, it was fun seeing how proud the Italian boy was under his frail appearance. And it made tricking him all the more appealing.

He sneaked behind the brown boy as silently as possible and, after making sure he hadn't noticed him, he pinched his hips and yelled. "SURPRIIIIIIIISE!"

The joke worked better than expected. Lovino jumped up to the ceiling.

Literally.

One moment he had his feet on the ground. The next, he was flying fifteen feet above them and screaming. And he reflexively grabbed a girder holding the roof.

Antonio froze for a second. Then he turned to the teacher and said with a concerned face: "Oops?"

Everything was that idiot's fault! Everything! He'd throw his fist into that son of a bitch's face if he could let go of that girder! But for now he didn't know what he should do. He had wrapped all of his limbs around it and was holding on with desperation. Don't look down, he thought. He knew all too well what would happen if he did. Everything would start to spin around him, he would close his eyes and start screaming and crying in spite of his Italian pride! It wasn't fair! Why did he have to be scared of heights?

And the other guy saying "oops"… Not but really. You say "oops" when you step on someone's foot, when you drop something at the grocery store, or when you start to flirt with a girl before realizing it's not a girl. But right now, "oops" was hardly appropriate. Because he was just showing how dumb he was and getting people into trouble! He heard Luna calling him from down below. "Lovino, are you alright?"

"Do I look alright, damn it? Help me the fuck ou…" Fuck… He just looked down. He felt the void calling him, his hands slipping from the beam. Reflexively, he gripped it even harder and bit his lip not to scream. He didn't want to know how he managed to jump this high. All he wanted was to feel the ground under his feet. Suddenly, he felt something change. He couldn't tell if it came from him or his perch but… Impossible! His hands and legs were digging into the metal beam!

"Lovino! Don't panic! Try to calm down or you are going to…" He wasn't even listening, trying to catch himself as well as he could. But every time he grabbed the girder, his hands dug into it even faster. It wasn't even deforming, his limbs were literally going through the matter! He was growing more and more terrified, and the more afraid he was the faster his arms and legs were losing their tangibility.

Sort of understanding what was happening, Luna turned to Antonio, an urgent glow in her eyes. The Spanish boy's eyes widened with fear. "I can't! It's way too far, I…"

"Antonio, we don't have a choice!" the teacher urged.

"But I…"

"Do it!"

Since talking didn't seem to do any good, the brown haired boy closed his eyes and focused. First, nothing happened. Then a transparent form, sort of like a glass dome, appeared right under the Italian. Antonio tensed, unfamiliar with such performances. He opened an eye to check on the young boy he was trying to save. "Okay, Lovi, you can let go," he said between clenched teeth.

"Don't call me Lovi, you bast… CHIGIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" His hands just went through the beam and so did his legs. Antonio prepared for the collision but, instead of landing on his force field as he should have, the Italian boy went through it as well, as if there had been nothing there.

"¡Mierda!" Antonio dropped his focus and the dome disappeared. Only one solution now: he threw himself under the younger boy and caught him before he touched the ground. Well, actually, he tried to catch him and his body broke his fall. He felt a crack and a terrible pain when the Italian boy's body hit his.

Terrified, Lovino had closed his eyes and was only more surprised when he saw who he had landed on. He cried out and slapped the idiot crying from pain. "Why would you do that, dumbass?" he yelled, hopping mad.

Antonio didn't answer, and Lovino realized he had passed out. Concern overwhelmed him and he slapped him again, trying to wake him up. But as much as he yelled, hit, insulted him, he wouldn't open his eyes.

Around them, nobody dared to move, afraid of making the Italian even more angry. To everyone's surprise, it was Feliciano who gathered enough courage to go and pat his twin's shoulder. He turned around brutally but didn't do anything more. "Fratello…" Feliciano said softly. "You are going to hurt him if you keep hitting him."

Lovino didn't answer but didn't try to do it again. Luna chose this moment to escape her stupefaction. "Lesson dismissed! You are all going to help me bring Antonio and Lovino to the nursery!"

Lovino protested as the young woman held him under the armpits to help him up but repressed a pained whine: his right arm and leg had taken the whole impact and beautiful nearly black bruises where already spreading on them. He was surprised he hadn't felt them while abusing his savior.

His brother grabbed his healthy arm to help him as Kiku gently held the bruised one. The rest of the students helped Luna pick Antonio up and keep him in a horizontal position. Peter, too small, couldn't help anyone, so Luna called him and asked him to go find Raivis Galante, a second year student, in Math class. He immediately ran there as the students slowly carried the victims to the nursery.

"Hey, miss! Like, the movie's over and we totally flipped and it was, like, totally awe… Hey? Miss?... Like, they're totally gone!"

"Uh? But then what do we do?"

"Lily's not here either?! What the hell happened?"

"Well, maybe the lesson is, like, over?"

"…"

"…"

"So, what do we do?"

"You do whatever you want. I'm finding Lily."

"You know your sister is a big girl, right? She can take of hers… And there he goes… Boys…"

"Like, yeah…"

"But, aren't you a boy too?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"Nothing…"

[escriimatiic-archive-blog]

✩ {{ I'm shamelessly curious for your opinion ;^) }}

The Ultimate Relationship Tag

Send ‘✩’ for the following || Accepting

@ms-feline-fatale

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Selina, Dick’s pretty level headedWho threatens to leave but never actually does? Selina always threatens to leave, usually does for short periods of timeWho actually keeps their word and leaves? Selina, she’s usually back pretty soonWho trashes the house? Selina, Dick is pretty organizedDo either of them get physical? Selina is more likely to, but it’s not oftenHow often do they argue/disagree? Pretty often, Dick doesn’t approve of the stealingWho is the first to apologise? Usually Dick

Sex:

Who is on top? Probably DickWho is on the bottom? Well, that only leaves Selina left so herWho has the strangest desires? Probably Selina.. idkAny kinks? Not that I can think about without rping thisWho’s dominant in bed? Lets be real, it’s totally SelinaIs head ever in the equation? Probably, but not when they’re regularly doing it, they probably just get ambitious while the other’s watch TV and then off they goIf so, who is better at performing it? Neither are bad, probably Selina thoEver had sex in public? I have a feeling rooftop sex has happenedWho moans the most? Probably Dick tbhWho leaves the most marks? Selina probably has a thing for leaving marks in places for people to seeWho screams the loudest? I imagine Selina would if either of them actually doWho is the more experienced of the two? Selina, she’s older after allDo they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Probably fuck unless they got hella worried about the other not coming home or something seriousRough or soft? Being Selina it’s probably usually rough unless it’s said serious situationHow long do they usually last? I imagine she’s rather demanding, so probably upwards of 20 minutes after she’s done finding ways to get it out of himIs protection used? Probably unless it’s a spur of the moment thingDoes it ever get boring? I’d imagine notWhere is the strangest place they’d have sex? Probably strange places on rooftops

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? I think Dick wants kids but Selina probably doesn’t If so, how many children do your muses want/have? Dick only wants one or two anywayWho is the favorite parent? Probably Dick, he’s too nice for his own goodWho is the authoritative parent? SelinaWho is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Probably Dick, tho he shouldn’tWho lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? Probably Dick againWho turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Dick is at literally everythingWho goes to parent teacher interviews? Dick does and tries to drag SelinaWho changes the diaper? Probably DickWho gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? Dick usually offersWho spends the most time with the children? Again, DickWho packs their lunch boxes? Usually Dick, Selina probably tries to get them to do it themselvesWho gives their children ‘the talk’? Definitely SelinaWho cleans up after the kids? DickWho worries the most? DickWho are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Probably Selina

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? DickWho is the little spoon? SelinaWho gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? SelinaWho struggles to keep their hands to themself? SelinaHow long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Selina gets uncomfortable first, but it’s usually quite a whileWho gives the most kisses? DickWhat is their favourite non-sexual activity? Probably kicking ass or something weird like thatWhere is their favourite place to cuddle? Probably bedWho is more likely to playfully grope the SelinaHow often do they get time to themselves? Like always, they don’t exactly have day jobs

Sleeping:

Who snores? Probably Dick if anyoneIf both do, who snores the loudest? It’s probably quietDo they share a bed or sleep separately? They share a bed, they aren’t some dysfunctional mid 60s coupleIf they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Dick is the cuddliest sleeperWho talks in their sleep? Dick, only during nightmares thoWhat do they wear to bed? Dick wears just his underwear if anything and I don’t imagine Selina wears much more than he doesAre either of your muses insomniacs? Dick usually starts to avoid sleep if his nightmares are badCan sleeping pills be found by the bedside? NoDo they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? They kinda loosely cuddle I imagineWho wakes up with bed hair? Tbh, it’s probably Dick and his pretty boy hairWho wakes up first? DickWho prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Dick is that nice guy who brings her pancakes in bedWhat is their favourite sleeping position? I imagine they sleep while spooning the mostWho hogs the sheets? Probably SelinaDo they set an alarm each night? Nah, no job to wake up forCan a television be found in their bedroom? Most likelyWho has nightmares? Both? Dick for sureWho has ridiculous dreams? Probably both, they have strange livesWho sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Probably Selina, Dick thinks it’s cuteWho makes the bed? DickWhat time is bed time? Whenever they’re done kicking assAny routines/rituals before bed? Dick likes to make sure he hangs up his NIghtwing costume, but that’s itWho’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Probably Selina

Work:

Who is the busiest? Probably Dick, he’s got a whole dysfunctional bat familyWho rakes in the highest income? Well, Dick is funded by Bruce, so him?Are any of your muses unemployed? Both technicallyWho takes the most sick days? Selina probably plays sick to get him to take care of herWho is more likely to turn up late to work? what work?Who sucks up to their boss? Well, does Bruce count as a boss?What are their jobs? Unemployed vigilante?Who stresses the most? DICK!!Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Dick loves what he does, I imagine Selina is somewhat similarAre your muses financially stable? With Bruce’s cash they are

Home:

Who does the washing? Probably DickWho takes out the trash? also DickWho does the ironing? No one?Who does the cooking? Selina maybe? They probably order pizza a lotWho is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Neither?Who is SelinaWho leaves the toilet roll empty? SelinaWho leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? SelinaWho forgets to flush the toilet? Dick, but only in the middle of the nightWho is the prankster around the house? Both of them mess with the otherWho loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Probably Selina, Dick has a hook on the wall for themWho mows the lawn? DickWho answers the telephone? They don’t have a house phoneWho does the vacuuming? Selina maybe?Who does the groceries? They probably both goWho takes the longest to shower? Probably Dick, the longest showers are when one hops in with the other thoWho spends the most time in the bathroom? Selina maybe? It’s probably close tho

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Not with BruceHow many cars do they own? Probably just oneDo they own their home or do they rent? They probably own itDo they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? In the middle of the city in some apartment I would imagineDo they live in the city or in the country? CityDo they enjoy their surroundings? ProbablyWhat’s their song? Dick probably tries to say every sappy song is them but Selina never agreesWhat do they do when they’re away from each other? Selina probably wears shoes in the house and leaves garbage around, Dick just doesn’t wear clothesWhere did they first meet? Gotham somewhere? I don’t know what they’re official first meeting wasHow did they first meet? Being all costumy and vigilante likeWho spends the most money when out shopping? SelinaWho’s more likely to flash their assets? SelinaWho finds it amusing when the other trips over?  Selina, Dick worries too muchAny mental issues? They probably both have some form of PTSDWho’s terrified of bugs? NeitherWho kills the spiders around the house? Probably the cats?Their favourite place? BedWho pays the bills? BruceDo they have any fears for their future? Probably parentingWho’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? DickWho uses up all of the hot water?  Probably only happens when they’re both in thereWho’s the tallest? Dick, by an inchWho’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Probably Selina, but Dick does it tooWho wanders around in their underwear? SelinaWho sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Dick? Both of them? idk..What do they tease each other about? Dick’s horrid fashion choicesWho is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Selina never forgets the 80s Nightwing outfitDo they have mutual friends? All them superheroesWho crushed first? Dick had one of those weird kid crushesAny alcohol or substance related problems? I imagine Selina has more of a drinking tendency than DickWho is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Selina?Who swears the most? Both?