#the wedding dress one isn’t supposed to be related to the comic

[ashwithane]

i beat the funny british people game the other day

(i actually drew these a while ago and forgot to post but shhhh)

[parkers-gal]

masterlist

requests | closed to complete current requests <3

last updated | aug 5th, 2021

do not repost my work anywhere !! respect this please. | fics are not ordered in any particular way. these headers are mine so pls don’t use/take them

tom holland

insomnia - reader can’t get to sleep; tom finds out why

driving in the rain - fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home

workouts and warmth - when all tom wants is some after-workout cuddles

from across the living room - announcing your engagement to your families

the one - you want to move out and get your own place as a couple, but tom doesn’t. nikki talks to him. 

anything for the twins - tom massages reader’s boobies during her period

moms, makeouts, and mishaps - nikki walks in during your makeout sesh

simple acts of intimacy - a fluffy 3.1k words worth of blurbs

silver surprises - the reader surprises tom at a premiere

twenty questions - questions ensue after tom & reader get stuck in an elevator

my gut - spinoff of twenty questions with claustrophobic!reader (tw/ anxiety + attacks)

stealth mode - tom & reader scaring each other

unicorns vs pegasuses - tom shuts the reader up by kissing them

a good story - tom meets reader at a meet & greet — friendships blossom to lovers

deal breaker - tom wants kids, but the reader does not

his lap - reader asks for help in overcoming an insecurity; tom misreads the situation

pool day - pool day w/ tom + the boys

hot - the reader picks a certain song that reminds her of tom - the boys go wild

grounded by rocks - tom talks about you in an interview for cherry

your hands - when all he wants is a simple head massage

late flights - in which tom takes too much time with the fans

nobody wanted to - where only one person makes it out alive

way more than 50 - the hollands trick the reader into thinking they did something they weren’t supposed to 

why [ pt ii ] - sweet cupcakes, and a not so sweet breakup

what looks suspicious - nikki doesn’t exactly approve of tom dating the reader

something sweet - reader drops off small gifts while tom’s on set

he remembers - when tom finds the letter

missed you - reuniting w/tom after four long months

soft gangsta - tom tries to dress edgy; the reader is unconvinced

the shoe game - reader & tom play the shoe game at their wedding

too much - when the reader has a rough time with work, tom comforts them

losing grip [ pt ii ] - a losing battle between the reader and a hereditary disease causes heartbreak

your captain america - protective!tom holland of young reader (age gap)

sexy genius - reader is a fan of (and meets) jake gyllenhaal

teddy bear cuddles - tom wears an oversized hoodie

nonsense - the boys think the reader is meddling with tom’s work

circles before yourself - rule #2 - osterfield!reader gets caught with tom

seventeen times - when the reader is having a hard time in lock down, tom tries to help (TW // depression)

pixie dust hair - tom assures insecure!reader that the pixie haircut looks good <3

a few more months - reader passes out during a run; tw // excessive exercising

tiktok au’s

body ody ody - tom gets a little jealous over a few social media comments 

sweats in the supermarket - getting tom hard when he wears sweats

put your records on - trying not to kiss each other first

mood killer - saying dirty things into tom’s ear

say it back - pranking tom by not saying ily back to him

two different ways - tom choking the reader to get two different reactions 

brutal - doing the “did you mean to post this?” trend on tom 

worst thirty minutes of my life - playing a drinking game with tom to see who gives into cuddles first

my girl’s cuddles - crawling into tom’s lap 

even - buying hot leggings & taping tom’s reaction 

goofball - a silly way to reveal reader’s pregnancy to tom 

end the debate - “i found out why my boobs are small” trend

slam the car door - doing the car door prank on tom 

water bottle wars - the boys ask you and tom questions about each other. wrong answers result in sprayed water 

get you back real good - you & the boys prank tom after watching a scary movie 

peachy - sighing / moaning in front of tom playing video games to get his reaction

my princess - tom does a tiktok where he guesses all your answers to everyday questions

dad!tom

needles and needs - when scarlet has to get shots, you realize she may not be the only one that needs comforting

all my girls - scarlet meets her baby sister for the first time (dad!tom)

everything i love about u - tom is afraid baby red might hate him for leaving home too much

a little extra help - stepdad!tom being the best dad to your daughter

through the tears - pregnant!reader goes into labour, and baby holland meets the family

first feed - tom watches you breastfeed for the first time

warmth from the love - baby holland’s first Christmas

first words - baby holland speaks for the first time

breaking the internet - when your pregnancy announcement crashes multiple apps/websites (pregnant!reader)

breaking the internet... again - when baby holland breaks the internet

boyfriends and brunch - when jade brings home her boyfriend (aged!up)

big sister + how are babies made - telling scarlet about the baby on the way (pregnant!reader)

too many kids - the reader’s dad has some commentary about the twins

mumma’s girl - tom gets jealous when scarlet isn’t a daddy’s girl

angels - a little skin to skin time with his best girl

family man - after a nasty breakup, tom finds out you had his child

cheesy uncles - telling paddy he’s going to be an uncle

ag!reader (more to come !!)

y’all really get nasty - tom and the fans discuss ag!reader’s songs

my favorite things - ag!reader performs in front of the mcu cast at the grammy’s

34 + 35 - the boys react to reader’s new song(s)

34 + 35 remix - the boys reacting to the remix

his remedy - the boys react to positions deluxe

neglected - AG!reader breaks up w tom because of their job; tom searches for answers

low-key wants him - reader talks about how much nonna (+ her fam) loves tom

see u soon - reader interacts with tom while on stage for the swt

a few spilled secrets - AG!reader performs on jimmy fallon’s show.. tom and her confess a few secrets

for the first time - when the reader breaks down crying while singing about her ex, tom is there to comfort her

dance with me, rain on me - reader has a hard time on set, tom to the rescue

every tomorrow - the first album release night after your breakup

here we go again - introducing tom (+ the boys) to your celebrity friends

condoms or safety nets - the boys react to AG!reader’s song “safety net”

we’re not engaged - AG!reader announcing to the world why they no longer have a fiance... (fluffy)

the late late show - AG!reader & tom do spill your guts or fill your guts

pain from pleasure - dad!tom goes through a birth simulator — controlled by the reader

never have i ever - tom & the reader play a game on the late late show

fluffy hair - ag!reader has a zoom interview with zach sang. tom makes an appearance

fighting off the haters - ag!reader and older!tom holland (age gap) attend an award show after going public

run your hands thru my hair - tom reacts to ag!reader’s song “my hair”

stick to acting - tom tries to make a beat for ag!reader

practically twins - reader meets sebastian & anthony at comic con

damn lucky - black!reader wears her hair naturally during an interview

what a piece - reader talks about tom related songs & tattoos

flip it - tom talks about reader in an interview

at the door - older!reader & tom fight off haters

a headcannon of ag!reader being a marvel cast member

a headcannon of tom & the reader attending the avengers endgame premiere

styles!reader (more to come !!)

bathroom kisses - makeout sessions with tom and styles!reader in the bathroom

yeah, he is - tom holland x styles!reader meet the styles family; protective older brother harry makes an appearance

unparalleled love - older brother harry styles makes a speech at reader’s wedding

grilled - date night for tom & styles!reader is a bit difficult with two kids; older brother!harry to the rescue

baby showers and brothers - dad!tom & styles!reader are going to be parents

potential boyfriend - tom has a crush on the reader when they first meet

ts!reader (more to come!!)

trust me - tom & the reader defend her after nikki doesn’t approve

your london boy - tom & co. + the world reacts to “london boy”

boy of my dreams - tom being proud of the reader for winning a grammy

rapper!tom

tom records your sounds during sex for his music (hc)

tom talks about you in an interview

concepts: one , two , three

professor!tom

my pretty girl - tom gets jealous when reader gets many valentines

other reader tropes

cherry - reader is a screenwriter for tom’s upcoming movie

no shouting - singer!reader needs some help after paparazzis are too much (based on a video of tom)

pregnancy belly - actress!reader has to wear a pregnancy belly for her role, and the boys tease tom about when it’ll be real

we march - actress!reader being a huge feminist

passions & pediatricians - pediatrician-to-be!reader meets tom

politics - reader’s granpa is joe biden (requested) and tom meets him

extra support - psychiatrist!reader helps tom on the set of cherry

you made it big - tom holland x actress!reader at the after party

partition - the boys react to famous!reader singing partition

senorita - singer!reader makes a music video with shawn, who’s tom’s new best friend

miniseries 

boomerang: one , two , three , four [completed]

peter parker

making amends

➢ enemies to lovers ; college!peter x super soldier!reader ; 30k words ; sorta slow burn

cheeky guy, favorite thighs - college!peter doing a tik tok challenge — between the reader’s thighs [tik tok au]

a little nicer - doing the prank on peter (”you could’ve been a little nicer to me today”)

start searching - first make out sessions with our best boy :)

hidden hickeys - the avengers think innocence of peter, until they’re proven wrong

the team - part two of hidden hickeys; reader meets the avengers

all of you - late night talks about your future with peter :’)

like you wouldn’t believe - reader tells mj about her & peter’s awesome sex

slip from my hands - roommate!peter comforts the reader after a nightmare

i’d wait for her - college!peter parker needs to come to terms with you and your boyfriend

shut up and kiss me - soft make out sessions with peter :)

all the good things in the world, and i get you - insecure!reader needs a little reassuring 

modern chivalry - peter being a gentleman on the subway

eggnog and mistletoe - peter helps you love the holidays

the force awakens? it sleeps - a little extra comfort & care from our favorite baby boyfriend 

a prince - wonder woman!reader meets spider-man (& avengers) in a mission

steve rogers fics - peter finds you reading fanfiction abt steve rogers

fanboy!peter

fanboys and bracelets - fanboy!peter parker goes to famous!singer!reader’s meet and greet

fanboys and phone numbers - fanboy!peter parker continuation 

showing around - fanboy!peter gets VIP access; some dancing ensues

stark!reader + avengers!reader

if you knew feelings - the avengers want you & peter to break up

sleeping - peter misinterprets a few important questions

the may to your ben - college!best friend!peter parker x stark!reader fluff

race ya - peter confesses his feelings for rogers!reader after a mission — on comms

frat bathrooms - stark!reader joins the avengers where she sees college!peter, the boy she slept with at a frat party

rainy days - reader doesn’t like rainy days, a certain wall-climber changes their mind

already got her - jealous!peter makes a public confession

flustered!peter

a nervous one - flustered!peter parker sees cheerleader!reader in her uniform

one day soon - flustered!peter parker x affectionate!reader

all better - flustered!peter parker does some lab flirting with reader

dad!peter + pregnant!reader

unplanned  [ part ii ] - reader gets pregnant... breaks up with peter to avoid it all

burrito wraps - reader worries that baby parker might be cold

a name to remember - latine!reader & peter give their girl a special name

you’re magic - a certain wall crawler hears two heartbeats

sgt. bucky barnes

first cuddles - bucky asks to cuddle for the first time

harry holland

golden light, the love of my life - the boys tease harry —on a live video— for being whipped

it won’t f^cking open - harry lends a helping hand

how much i - those three magical words are exchanged for the first time

cuddly koala moments - time the reader just needed harry’s warmth

anything for hands - the reader cuts harry’s hair on instagram live

your other best friend - the reader is sam’s new friend, but harry thinks they like tom instead

you’re my anchor - harry has an anxiety attack, but the reader knows what to do

what’s his [ pt ii ] - when everything thinks the reader should date tom instead, harry snaps

whipped fries - harry brags about the reader winning the pub quiz for them

tell me, show me - the reader makes harry flustered by playing w/the strings from his sweatpants

keep your cool - tom setting u up with his brother // nikki being wary

ag!reader

you’re such a dream to me — ag!reader writes r.e.m. about harry

harry styles

intoxicating - soft bubbles baths with long haired!harry 

frayed braids - reader braids long haired!harry’s hair

others:

harrison osterfield

not anymore - when harrison comes back from filming, he’s determed to win the reader’s heart

irreversible - when relationships fall apart, people fall apart. (infidelity)

circles before yourselves - rule #1  - harrison x osterfield!reader (sister) when brothers talk, bad things begin

think of her - harrison asks your family for their blessing [holland!sister]

steve harrington

together not never - steve discovers the reader is pregnant

[hawaiian-has-moved]

Reclaiming Betty Juice

Hey guys, I thought I’d touch on something. No, no one has bugged me about this topic that has brought me to this. I have just heard people discuss it as well as seen people draw Betty as an excuse for....mmm.... I believe you know what content she’d be used in. I mostly feel like it is just import for me to express why I enjoy drawing and cosplaying Betty. For those of you that don’t know, in the cartoon there were points where Toonjuice tagged along with Lydia around her friends or in school. There is the Halloween party related episode, the one where Betty runs for class president, another where Lydia and Betty go camping with Bertha and Prudence, one where the four start a band together, the sappy faced ghouls episode, and maybe like a couple others I cannot remember right now. Betty is a rather transphobic character. The context of her being used as a disguise or persona can be taken extremely poorly. And while it isn’t outright, it is definitely there in the back of your mind when watching.  For me though, being non-binary and writing and illustrating myself as such in a crossover manner is where I like to reclaim Betty. Because for me, though the intentions are there to water down what trans people are and make fun of it, I like to personally see her as a way of expressing being nonbinary. I mostly present as masculine, but I’m sure you’ve all seen the wedding dress photos. Especially since I went from making it a one off outfit joke to a regular outfit because I die to make Beetleb*bes uncomfortable in my presence. So there are moments where I enjoy presenting feminine, which happens to include reclaiming Betty. Which in turn, I decided to bring Betty into my comic universe. I mean, I shouldn’t leave her out when it is a mix of the musical and cartoon world, but the world can still easily live without her in it. So her being there is like a sort of “Yeah I know Betty Juice was meant to be offensive, but fuck that noise I’m going to make her a beautiful representation of gender expression.” Because honestly that’s what she should have been.  Just ugh.... the concept of seeing trans and nonbinary people as trying to escape from their issues or disguise themselves has been suggested to me many times in my life and it’s awful, and that’s what I see original Betty as. But the power I feel when I stick a metaphorical and maybe one day literal middle finger in the person who came up with that’s face is immaculate.  Anyway, morning rambles I suppose. I did make mention to discourse obviously, so I will tag this as such.  TL;DR- Betty is a blatant symbol of transphobia in the og cartoon, but I took her back and made her a enby gender expression representing queen/piece of royalty and she kicks ass.

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 20

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

Happy New Year!!!!!! Here’s a party and a hot guy loving on you - and you don’t even have to leave your home ;)

I haven’t been to many therapist offices after I started high school. This one was free, on student-life. Reproduced images of the sea were comforting enough, but it was the dreary stained carpet that reminded me where I was. 

“Do you think they’re related to the night you were assaulted?” 

“Yes. But I don’t know how to get rid of them. I lose sleep and then when I do sleep, I have these nightmares and I wake up more restless than if I’d just stayed up all night.” 

 “Hm. And how do you feel about Harry?” 

 “Harry?” 

 She nodded. “Yes, the boy in your dreams.” Her French manicured nails squeezed the top of her clipboard.

 “That’s not an easy question.” 

 “Try.” 

 I sighed. “Okay…” The painted seagull in her office looked like an on-clearance print at TJ Maxx, and suddenly I wished I’d called my mother for her own version of therapy instead. Bargain shopping. “I think I hate him. But then I know I don’t. But then… I don’t necessarily like him either.” 

 “Do you love him?” 

I laughed. “No, I don’t love him.”

 “Why do you laugh?”

 “I said I almost hated him and you ask me if I love him!” But my voice was a little too loud. The question stayed with me, stirring in my mind. “I think I’d know if I loved him.” 

 “Love looks different to different people. Finding a healthy version of love for yourself and your partner is where things can go awry. Or right.” 

 I remembered Harry and I talking at Alta about Madame Bovary, and how I’d told him that people love to the best of their abilities, from what they’ve learnt by their circumstances. Silence weighed in the room, and I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate on my feelings. Bleh.

 “I don’t know,” I finally said. “But if this is what love looks like to him… We’re not even technically dating so this question doesn’t even apply!” I laughed again. “But then… even if we were, then...  it’s not enough.” 

 “And what would be enough for you?”

 “Stability.” 

 “And do you think this is possible with him?” 

 “Umm…” Zayn’s voice popped in my head - Harry was a magnet for infamy - and I laughed. I laughed, and I laughed...“No.”

 “And why is that?” 

 “Because he self-sabotages. And he says things he doesn’t mean.” 

 “Such as...?”

 A puff of breath left my lips. “Like last night, he said I didn’t have a life. And then he was comparing me to another girl. Viv. She’s like his… sister, basically. She grew up with him. But… he got really defensive and said at least she fucks me. But the fact that he said I don’t have a life?? A LIFE?? I mean shit, it’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my dreams is it?” 

 She shook her head. “It’s very important for you not to blame yourself. Show yourself the same kindness you’d show your friends. Renny, for example.” 

 Be kind to yourself. 

 I nodded. Those were the words my mother would say whenever I’d critique myself. Just like all those times before, the words registered, but it didn’t change anything about the frustration I felt. I was the one dumb enough to let him in. I’d let myself be dragged into him, even with every red flag hitting me in the face. I was collecting them for a meme bouquet at this point!

 “Do you believe him?” she asked. 

 It took me a minute to hear her. 

 “The words he said to you,” she said. “That you don’t have a life.” 

 A timer beeped on her phone. She muted it. “I’d like you to write out what you want in your life for next time. Not what anybody else wants. But what Y/N wants. When you see it written out, no matter how silly it seems, having concrete answers might help.”

 --------------

 I was staring at my notes page, trying to think of what I wanted. I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask her what she meant by that. Did she mean career goals? Education goals? Relationship goals? What did this have to do with ending my nightmares? 

 A text at the top of my phone distracted me from the blank page. 

 Kiki: “Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. Get your hands on the special airhead pills from Harry’s and bring them to the DG Pretty Please Party next week. On the DL obvi.”  

Viv chimed in on the group chat. “Congrats bitch! It’ll be fun for all of us.” She included the devil emoji. 

 This is what I got for stalling up until the last minute to walk into work. The practice was now a blatant reminder that Harry was out of my life and it didn’t help whenever I saw Lionel. It felt weird that I was seeing his dad more than him. Wrong, even. 

 Voices carried through the lot along with the clicking of heels. I turned my head. 

 Boss Lady Samantha was headed towards the elevator. 

 Shit, Y/N. Shit shit shit.

 I got out, quietly closing the door. Better to walk with my boss than walk in late after her, right? Her red hair was let down today, ringlet curls in full effect. I could meet her at the elevator before it arrived.

 But right when I was about to shout out hold the elevator Lionel walked right behind her. And I mean RIGHT behind her - there was hardly room for a Bible between them. 

 I hid behind my car, unsure if I was supposed to be seeing this. 

 Their voices were too low to hear, but his arm lingered at her lower back before the elevator opened. She got in. Alone. Lionel looked over his shoulder and I ducked further. 

 Through Grandpa’s windows, I saw the elevator door close. Lionel waved goodbye to Samantha and he pressed the button again. 

 Before chickening out, my shoulders straightened. I shouldn’t have to be the one hiding. I jogged to make it. His brows shot up in surprise as he held the elevator for me. The kindness I’d gotten used to seeing in his eyes looked hesitant this time. 

 “A little late today?” he asked, as soon as I’d made it in. 

 I avoided his eyes, nodded.  It was a quiet elevator ride. 

 ------------

 My family’s house was a ten minute drive from the practice. Enough drive time to sit on what I’d seen outside Coast Shores Medicine. It could’ve been friendly. I didn’t have to do anything about this. But in my bones, I knew that friendly isn’t what I’d seen. Lionel avoided me the rest of the day, assigning me to print out billing statements. I hadn’t seen them make out or anything, but there was a certain intimacy I couldn’t write off right away. Did Mrs. de Saude know about his close work relationships? Did Harry? 

 The sickening uneasiness dissipated when I heard my parent’s Home Improvement HGTV hour. Dad was already passed out on the couch, snoring at a whopping 8 PM when I walked through the door. Ignoring Mom’s tutting of “they keep you too late,” we went to my bedroom. 

 “Pick the nude ones,” Mom said, adjusting the spectacles she only pulled out on rare occasions (magazine reading and shoe selections). “It makes your legs look longer.” It looked like there was something more she wanted to say. 

 I adjusted them in the mirror, wearing the blush dress I’d bought for my aunt’s beach wedding almost a year prior. It’d never been worn. Her Spanish fiancé she’d met three months prior stole her TV set and ran off with his gay lover a week before. As I stood, the dress just barely touched the floor. Simple, really, but the way the thin straps exposed my chest rendered it elegant. I felt like I needed a long cigarette and fur coat to make it complete.  

 Without context, Mother suddenly burst into an annoyed huff. 

 “You okay?” I asked.

 “Hm?” Her lashes fluttered as if she hadn’t realized she’d made a noise. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Your father just took another one of those sleeping pills. You should never get too dependent on medication, Y/N. Drink warm milk or something.”

 “Mom.”

 “I’m serious!” Her stony face certainly wasn’t comical. 

 “I know.”

 She looked me over in the dress again and caught herself, pulling me in for a rushed hug. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. She rocked me a little. “It’s just been a little rough this week.” She squeezed me tighter, then let me go. All negative energy shoved into a box that’d spring open when we all least expected it. “Have a good night tonight. Say hello to Harry for me!”

 When I walked to the car she threw out, “And tell him next time he can ask you with a Cartier ring! HA! I’m joking!! ... Kind of!!!” 

 I smiled, waving to her at the gate as I got into my Grandpa mobile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Golden Boy wasn’t my date.  

 ---------

There were two cops for every solo cup I could see littered on the ground. They patrolled the streets, but the frat house seemed unphased and restored to its former glory as I walked with Andre. Club music pounded beyond the doors, practically shaking the windows. Girls huddled up outside, holding each other’s hair back and trying to block anyone’s view from the bile, as the guys snickered over their shoulders and some pretended not to see. But the cops weren’t here to reprimand for underage drinking and public intoxication tonight. They were on watch. Stationed around the perimeter of the house and on either end of the street. 

 They were waiting for something else. For somebody else. 

 Andre seemed oblivious, practically skipping past them he was so excited. I, on the other hand, was already limping from the nude pumps. 

 “Wanna switch shoes?” he called back. 

 “Don’t make a deal you aren’t willing to keep,” I smiled, quirking a brow. “The nude would actually match your navy suit…”

 He’d already walked on, fist bumping the bouncer who raised up a professional-grade camera and snapped a photo of us. When my eyes recovered from the flash, I spotted Officer Ramirez from the uniforms just beyond the frat’s ramshackle fence. He was already watching me. He raised two fingers above his brow and I nodded, curtly, even though I wanted to shrink inside myself. I hadn’t had the time to think about what I would say if he contacted me again, or if I should be the one to reach out to him.

 Andre led me inside, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. It raised ten degrees just from stepping inside. The boys were in Bond suits, but most had abandoned their jackets wherever they could - on the banister, the couch beneath the staircase, or the entrance hall. The girls had dressed up, too. This was the most covered up I think I’d seen some of them, though others still opted for above-the-knee slips.

 “Oi, where’s your drink?!” Niall’s familiar voice shouted above the bass.

 He pulled Andre into a side hug before we reached the dancefloor. When he saw me, Niall practically fell over. 

 “Y/N! What’re you doing here?” He spluttered, whiskey in his breath. The knot of his tie was already to his chest, but he loosened it even more. He looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Renny’s just gone to the bathroom.” 

 “She’s my date,” Andre stepped in, placing an arm around my shoulder. It was completely platonic but Niall’s face went to stone. 

 Suddenly it cracked, and he laughed, running a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh, shit.” He laughed again. “Shit!” 

 Andre smiled, unaware of anything else besides the fact that Niall must be proud he showed up with a date. He patted Niall’s shoulder. “We’re going to see the big bro, I’ll find you later.” Andre nodded his head for me to follow, leaving Niall cackling to himself in the entranceway.

 “Niall’s THE. MAN,” he put his hands up for emphasis. “He’s my favorite in the house besides my big. We gotta say hi, then you can run off. Oh, Renny’s here too!” He squeezed my shoulders as if to excite me, as if she’d be the reason I’d stay. Loved the girl, but I knew she’d be back on top of Niall five minutes after she was out. I just didn’t want to have to watch. 

 I wrung my hands together, growing nervous. I knew the reason Niall had reacted that way was because Harry was going to be here. I knew this coming into it. But I’d been expecting him to ignore me the entire night. With Niall’s reaction, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What had Harry told Niall?

 Someone sloshed their beer on me as I passed, and I turned sour, rolling my eyes as Andre pushed us forward. I picked up the pace before he could notice I’d stopped and wiped the glare off my face. Or, tried. I probably just looked constipated now. 

 WHY WAS HIDING EMOTION SO HARD?? 

 I felt bad feeling so annoyed. Andre was excited. I should be excited, right? Sloshed beer and sweaty bodies came with the territory. Though I’d forgotten how humid it got in here. Hell and Florida were probably cooler. I picked up the ends of my dress, hoping for some sort of ventilation to reach parts of me that were on the verge of overheating. 

 The coffee tables and couches had been moved from the center of the living room to the fringes beneath the stairwell to make designated smoking and dancing sections. I could’ve stayed on the outside of the dance crowd. Hell, I could’ve joined the spaced-out smokers on the couch. But I didn’t. I followed Andre to the middle of the dance floor. I could barely see above the tops of people’s heads until we reached a bit of a clearing. And by clearing, I meant the sweaty dancers in front of us who made a break for freedom and gave us about ten seconds of space before other bodies rushed to fill it. 

 I felt him before I saw him. A tiny prick of consciousness that directed my gaze. And Andre’s finger.

 “AYYYY!!!!!” Andre pointed to the DJ booth, waving his hands as he hollered.

 Even with the rocking vibration of the bass that chattered my teeth, each nerve in my body went alert. Harry stood, flashing a white smile to the crowd before downing the rest of whatever potion was in his cup. I hated how my stomach clenched just by seeing him. He saw Andre and his smile grew, grabbing the mic. I was still unnoticed, hidden by dim lighting and nameless peers.

 “Who’s ready for us to win tomorrow!?” His voice was low, demanding. It was a question for the crowd, but he was looking at Andre. I could sense the intensity even there, and it was then I realized it couldn’t be just me who feels so vulnerable around Harry. Each person he traps in his gaze stays there, until he lets them go. 

 The house erupted in cheers, but I was locked in place. The suit he was wearing looked similar to the one from the Halloween gala, and every bit of him looked just as stunning. His beautiful body swayed on the makeshift stage. 

 “Then let’s see you jump in-” His hand held up 5, 4, 3, 2… He spun another song and the crowd sprung from the floor before crashing back down. They jumped to the beat he made. A modern-day puppet master. 

 Andre wrapped an arm around me as he jumped. So I did, too. 

 “That’s my big!!” he yelled, mid-air.

 “WHAT??”

 He pointed to the DJ booth, but there was no one there besides Harry. 

 “.... HARRY??! HARRY’S YOUR- your…” I stopped jumping the same second Harry saw us together. It’s funny. It takes only a second to flip a dime on its head. His party boy mask dropped in an instant. The low lighting turned his eyes black, but they couldn’t conceal the daggers he shot straight at me.

 “I have to use the bathroom,” I muttered. 

 Andre nodded. “S’UP THE STAIRS!” He found a friend nearby and latched on to him instead. 

 The small (okay, medium) part of me filled with nothing but Petty™ wanted Harry to see me with his little. But another part of me couldn’t handle his judgmental glare. Somehow, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here tonight to make him jealous. That I was so obsessed with him I’d found another in to the frat. I didn’t want him to think he controlled any part of my heart. What did it say that I ran away at first sight, though?

 I’d already done it. It didn’t matter. Either way, I didn’t win.

 I raced upstairs, weaving my way between couples sitting on the stairs, hoping that the line for the restroom was really long and Renny hadn’t already left. It was, and she was next in line. 

 “Oh my God, what are you doing here?!” she screeched, arms out and eyes squinted until I could no longer see her pupil. 

 “Why do people keep asking me that.” 

 She pulled me into an extra-long, extra-tight Renny hug. “Love yousoooomuch,” she rushed. Her breath smelled like Niall as she pulled away. She lifted the cup to my lips and I shook my head. She frowned. 

 “I talked with Niall,” she said. “He says Harry’s just going” - she hiccupped - “through a lot right now. S’best to leave him alone.” 

 The other girls in line perked up at the mention of his name, subconsciously leaning closer. I huffed. “Trust me. I am.” 

 When three girls stumbled out of the only bathroom stall, Renny rushed in. “Thank God I was about to pee on the carpet.” She tried tugging me in with her, but my eye was on the end of the hall. And the stupid DG pretty please.

 “I’ll be back,” I muttered, squeezing her hand. 

 “Nooooo,” she drawled. 

 I squished her cheeks, checked her pupils. She didn’t need me to hold her hair back this time. I gave her cheek a lil slap.

 “I’ll go with you next time you have to go. Which will be in like... twenty minutes. You broke the seal rookie!” I teased. 

 I didn’t even bother looking over the railing at the party below to see if he was watching me. I still had my DG task and a nonrefundable deposit to think about. I didn’t think I’d get many chances to be in this house again unless I swindled Andre or Niall into letting me in. But that would require an explanation, and I wasn’t sure I could tell them that. 

 Forget explanations. I needed to do it now. Lots of noise. Tons of distractions. I’d just think of it as… borrowing?

 His door was locked and I groaned, kicking it and leaving a smudge beside all the others. I reached for a bobby pin in my purse and put it to work. I’d done it before in his bedroom, I could do it again here. The curve of the hallway protected me from onlookers waiting in line in the bathroom. Downstairs was a mixed bag. People could probably see through the railings running along the top floor. 

 Not that they’d think to look. 

 My knees were starting to hurt by the time I heard it click. I crept in, and for some reason, I expected his room to look different. But it was still the same. Dusty desk across from a queen-sized bed. Only one photograph atop his bedside mantle. And it didn’t smell like sweaty soccer clothes, but clean. With hints of a woodland spice and books. It felt like eons had passed since I was first here, undressing him like the drunken baby he’d been. As an act of betrayal, my body rushed at the thought of how his fingers had looped around my belt loops, tugging me closer. I swallowed, the image of his tightened pants expanding in my head. He’d almost been hard, then. 

 It was then, at that moment, that I decided that the one sip of alcohol I’d had must have been spiked with SOMETHING because I would NOT be that girl. I would NOT. I reFUSED TO LET MYSELF-

 Seconds later, my fingertips grazed his soft gray sheets. He’d been sprawled out right about here, and the rush of seeing unseen skin on Harry had been too intoxicating an offer to refuse. The ghost of that rush flowed through me again as my memory played it over like a movie. Close-ups and panning shots - Down his toned chest to tattoos speckled along tan skin, tattoos that had been seemingly doodles, but now held much more meaning now that I knew of his history with the ocean. For his sister. My body leant down before I knew what I was doing, and I inhaled. The lingering aroma of his body chemistry altering his cologne: musky, a little spice, and warmth.

 Even if every ounce of me wanted to dislike him, the legitimate biology behind my body responded to a chemistry I couldn’t control. 

 “What are you doing?”

 He caught me on my knees, with one hand clutched in the sheets.

 Fuckity FUCK-

 He could whip out PSYCHO magazine informing people of highly-dangerous murderers with my mugshot plastered across the cover - and I’d believe him in that moment. Oh my gosh. Omgomgomg. He didn’t say what I expected him to say when he swayed in, though. 

 “Andre. Really?” He laughed to himself, but it was cold. “Fucking” - he stumbled, leaning on the desk chair to catch himself- “really?” 

 It wasn’t the alcohol that’d put him on edge. I’d seen him handle liquor before, but this time he looked… different. I stood up, realizing his eyes were racking down my dress. I crept towards him, hoping to make it past the door. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was mortified. I’d just looked like an absolute fucking psychopath AND I’d snuck into his bedroom. Maybe I could distract him. Maybe he was too drunk to ask me-

 “What’re you doing here?”

 “What are we… all doing here? At parties?”

 “…in my room,” he clarified.

 Welp. My philosophical question fell flat. Wouldn’t be the first time.

 I waltzed past him, tight-lipped. In defense of my dignity, I still didn’t owe him anything. Not after how he’d treated me. 

 “Hey,” his arm jutted out, blocking my way. His brows crossed as he turned to a petulant boy. “S’rude to not answer.” 

 My blood boiled. “You are not about to give me a lesson on how bad it is to ignore people right now. Nor on being rude.” 

 “Can give you another one.” 

 He reached for me, but I stepped back, somewhat living in the hurt that flashed in his eyes at my rejection. 

 “You’re not leaving.” But his demand sounded like a plead. 

 “Thought you didn’t want me around you,” I scoffed, tearing past him. “Just because you’re drunk or high or whatever the fuck it is you are right now, doesn’t mean you can just… get a free pass! For a week! A whole week of awful-” I turned quickly, too frustrated to find the words. I took a step towards the door but- 

 “Y/N.” He was right behind me. His breath warmed the nape of my neck, the delicate hairs standing on end. No matter how much of an absolute mess he was, my body didn’t know better. I could practically feel him behind me, his presence radiating an alarm that blared through my veins. I wanted him. Badly. He trailed a finger down my arm, and his hand brushed against my own against my side. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 His fingers gingerly interlaced with mine, turning me around. 

 Something wet was on my cheek. I touched it, quickly rubbing it away in horror. Why were tears running down my face?! What unfair cruelty was this!? He saw my tears and leant down, suddenly defeated, pulling my body with him.

 “Why did’ya ever want me hm?” His nose went along my jaw. Full lips pressed against the base turned my legs weak. There was an underlying desperation to his words though, a prayer in his kiss. But my thoughts were turning anything but holy. 

 “Who says I did…” I wanted to pull away, ask him why he’d used past tense or why he’d completely ignored me this past week, but I was frozen by the softness of his hands. Self-respect was surely slipping away each moment I lingered. I could literally see Jane Austen parting the heavens and sticking her angelic head through Harry’s room to shame me with a glare. I do all this mental work to try and figure this guy out and… for what? I should be waltzing out that door, declaring I’d never talk to him again. I should give up messy and confused and pursue my own sanity. But the air only ever turned electric with him, in all his messiness, in all this confusion… and each time the spark appeared, it pushed us closer together until he was here, like this, soft hands gently running along my lower back, skilled fingertips feeling the dress fall slightly inwards at my waist, tracing a map of uncharted waters… 

 “You’re not thinking straight,” I breathed. And that went for both of us. 

 “Au contraire, I’m thinking clearer than I ever ‘ave.” There was a swirling madness shining through, but he bat his eyes and it was veiled again, vanished beneath the dark surface. He tilted his head, appraising my body, noticing my legs were no longer tensed to run, but in apprehension for another reason completely. A smirk settled in. “Why do you still want me?” he demanded, pulling me against him towards the bed.

 “Arrogant ass,” I sniped, but I landed on him anyway. His fingers tightened around my waist, a hand snaking up behind to entwine with my hair. I felt him harden beneath me as he pulled my head to the side, just the right amount of rough. But he stalled over vulnerable skin, lips ghosting featherlight up to my ear. He let out a soft breath and I clenched in anticipation. For once, I had no thoughts. “You should be with me,” he breathed. “Should be mine.” His voice grew frustrated and he practically growled, lips kissing my neck, steady, before they started to suck in a rhythm. The shock of the sensation masked the shock from his words and my back arched, a spider’s shiver crawling down my spine. He stopped suddenly, shooting back like he’d been shocked. His grip softened ‘round the nape of my neck, and he looked so… confused. “Can’t mark you again,” he noted, despondent. But then the corners of his lips twitched up in a smirk. “Least where it’s visible.” My breath caught. His black ink eyes showed the slightest ring of green. I don’t remember lifting my hand, but fingers trailed along dark circles. These were a new development. I shook my head lightly. Something was wrong. This was wrong. I leant in, resting my head against his. “Harry-” but his lips cut me off before I could mention it. 

 I felt like I’d been feeling his lips everywhere but my own. They were eager, but kept pace, switching it up just when I was getting comfortable, slowing to make me feel the soft fullness of raspberry-pink lips. They were pillows, and clouds, and everything else soft and wonderful that I’d want to feel forever. He slipped in his tongue, deepening the kiss, and I ground my body against him, using his shoulders as leverage. 

 This wasn’t me. But I didn’t care enough to think about ‘who I was’ anymore. What did I want? 

 I felt him pulse between my legs. 

 “Harry,” I bit my lip, and I knew then. I’ve been wanting more, I’ll always want more. I was more aware than ever of an emptiness he could fill. 

 “Been hard ever since I saw you bouncing in that dress,” he said gruffly. “With fucking Andr- ahh...fuck.” I rocked my hips against him in spite, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

 But his head jutted back and came forward again. He looked at me through hooded eyes, and just like that I was sedated by his gaze, my body pausing. He looked like he was about to scold me. “Do it again.” His voice was low. I stalled, looking at the way his lips barely parted. “Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” My hips replied on command, but rebelliously, slowly, feeling the length of him run between the thin underwear that’d cocooned itself against my ridges and folds. I ran my hips back down against his thigh. “Fu-uhck-” He jutted his hips up, turning something wicked when I moaned. The friction from the dress and pressure from my own body rocking against Harry built a tightly coiled knot I wanted desperately to release. And then we were kissing again. Fervent. Eager. A skilled tongue slipping in to dance with my own. He was rock hard against me. I could feel the full outline pressed tight against his slacks now, creating my own mental map. My hands wrapped in his hair, and I pulled, relaxing our pace, rutting myself up with purpose to rotate in a circle at his clothed tip. The noise from his throat wasn’t human, and I felt heavy and light all at the same time when his thumb dug into my chin just under my lower lip. 

 “Wanna help you,” he rumbled. “Will you let me? Won’t you do that for me?” 

 I nodded, wordlessly, and with both hands tight on my hips, he tugged us further back until he was against the pillows, and me, repositioned above him. He pulled us down and we built a rhythm against his thigh, the determination in his stitched brow as he did half the work making it even sexier. He was almost needier than me. There was an urgency to his strong hands as they hiked up my dress, fingertips dancing around and just beneath the band of my underwear. He didn’t pull it off, just gently pushed my hips up and down, then harder, faster, to the damp patch already on his slacks. I was buzzing, every inch of me, the wound coil growing bigger, tighter, the build of release making my heart race. He stared at me as we moved together.

 “Tha’s it. So good at this,” he mumbled. “So beautiful.” 

 My breath caught, and his wide eyes watched wondrously as I moved frenzied above him. His chest rose, bits of tattoo spilling past the white button-down collar. My hand clutched his shirt as I felt myself begin to peak. This was as intimate as I’ve been with someone, and the pressure of being seen through his eyes like this was a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to think about how many other girls had been in this position before. What he spoke to them, how they looked, what they’ve done, or how recently they’d done it. His hand cupped my face and brought me down, lips claiming me to the point of bruising and silencing voiceless thoughts. The pull of his lips, and the sturdiness of his thigh made me whimper. My swollen bud hit his clothed cock with each surge upwards, his hands guiding me, making sure my breath hitched each time. And each time, I’d feel him tense. Again, and again, just knowing his thick hard cock was against me, right against me, almost…

 “Almost… Harry…” 

 “Y/N,” he rasped. I felt his hot gaze as I shuddered above him. He kissed me, slow, swallowing another whimper as a current of electricity ran from the crown of my head to my toes. His hands helped me ride out my high, slowly coming to a halt. 

 He opened his arms, letting me cuddle up against his chest. Silence stretched on over quiet breathing. “Been waiting a long time for that,” he finally mumbled. I quirked an eye open, realizing he’d been watching me. I almost didn’t recognize his eyes. For once, they seemed sated. Unhaunted. The clouds had seemed, for a moment, to have parted. “To see you cummm.” He hummed the last word, leaning down and nuzzling the nook of my neck. Still nuzzling, he quirked half his face to look at me. We shared a long kiss, then a shorter one to my forehead. “You’re magnificent.” 

 Though I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, I hadn’t felt more naked. And for all the times I’d felt embarrassed around Harry, at least in this moment, he made me feel comfortable about what we’d just done. We lay there, my scent now mingling with the rest of his in the room. I still felt him hard beneath my legs that were strewn across his lap, and I wondered if it was … painful. He stirred, placing one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around me. 

 I traced shapes into his chest. He hummed, smiling softly. It was his boyish smile. The one I’d hardly seen, the one that you want to wrap up and cuddle and protect from the world to keep this one second of pure happiness intact. I pecked the corner of his mouth and his smile broke, squeezing my side. “Thank you,” he mumbled. I checked to make sure his eyes were still closed when I looked down at the black slacks. Since I finished, he should, too. I swallowed nervously as my fingers traced lower, down the button down as I tried to remember the porn Renny and I had watched together one late summer night. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he watched me, curiously, darkly, until I stopped at the tip of his pants. I slipped my fingers beneath the belt, just barely feeling the coarseness of hair before he took my wrist in his hand. He practically hissed and I stilled, not noticing I was holding my breath. I couldn’t possibly be doing this wrong…

 His index finger stroked the top of my hand, and I relaxed. 

 He looked at me gently. “Tonight was for you. S’all I wanted.” His touch was just as gentle, and he placed his thumb between my lips, running over them gently. I didn’t want him to see me as some pure untouched thing he should be scared to do anything with. My lips parted as seductively as I could make them appear, and I moved to let his finger in my mouth, but he cheekily closed my lips instead. 

 He stroked my cheek, almost giggling at my attempt. “This just isn’t how I picture it happening.” 

 The way his eyes were memorizing my lips told me he’d thought about this before, but I didn’t miss that he said how, and not where. Muffled EDC music vibrated his door, and faraway voices travelled through his open window from the yard below. The cops were waiting there, too. Was that the situation he was referring to? 

 “You deserve a lot, Y/N.” 

 I heard the hesitancy in his voice, some unforeseen disappointment he wouldn’t just spell out for me. “What’re you saying.” 

 “Just that there’s few things I want t’be sober for these days.”

 The thought hit my stomach like the sharpened blade of a knife, and it hurt worse than any wound from my nightmares. “Why would you say something like that?” I demanded.

 “Because it’s true.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sadness pulling him in. Like the tumultuous water of the middle of the ocean spirally inwards into itself. A treacherous water hole that’d carry you into its deepest abyss.

 I shook my head as if to find a way out, as if that would clear away what I was seeing. “I never… know what’s going on with you,” I admitted. I thought to the interaction with Lionel and Samantha. “Is home life really that bad?” 

 “What home?” He huffed when I looked at him. “M’serious. I feel more alone when I walk in there than I do when I’m here. And nobody even fucking knows me here.” 

 “Everyone knows you.” 

 “You’re smarter than that, Y/N.” 

 “What’d you take tonight, hm?” I cooed. My hand traced the dark circles under his eyes, and he leant against my touch before looking to the window, still allowing me to touch him. No doubt from whatever stimulant or depressant he’d taken, his words had been more candid than ever before. 

 “A cocktail of sorts. Will fucking regret it in the mornin’. Probably.” 

 He looked back to me, and I didn’t have time to wipe the concern from my face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

 He really believed it when he said it, and the way there didn’t seem to be enough energy left in him made me settle back in his arms with a frown. Because it did matter. It mattered a lot. A few moments later, he squeezed my sides. “You didn’t answer my question,” he mumbled. 

 “What question?” 

 He waited until I looked up at him, and even then he was hesitant. His voice was quiet when he spoke, intimate, so if even if someone was standing at the foot of the bed they couldn’t hear what he was about to ask. 

 “Why do you want me, Y/N?” 

 The vulnerable question hung in the air. And though it was presumptuous of him to ask, he wasn’t wrong. His eyes read me like a book he’d read a hundred times over. He saw me. I swallowed, my brain and heart at an all-out war. Unfortunately for me, they captured my tongue in a stale-mate. “I don’t know what I want.”

 And it was true. The dilemma was the following:

The only thing my body wanted was him. 

But my brain didn’t know if that’s what I should be     wanting anymore.  

And my heart was left in the middle of them both, not     sure what it was feeling. 

 I felt him shrug. “I get it. I have so many opinions shouting at me in my head right now. About soccer, my fucked family, about” - he threw his hands between us.  

 After Niall had greeted me at the door, I was sure Harry had talked about us in some capacity. But how many people had opinions on our relationship? “Let me guess. Viv shares her opinion about us.” 

 “I don’t listen to hers.” 

 “But hey, at least she fucks you right.” 

 He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that.” 

 “But it’s true, right? So no need to apologize.” 

 The room froze over. Just the thought of her whispering in his ear was enough to trigger an entire week’s worth of pent-up animosity. 

 “So maybe people are confused why Viv and I aren’t together but I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think. I fucking hate that we’re even talking about her right now.”

 “What do they say?” 

 He rolled his eyes, hurriedly slanting his voice, “Viv’s gorgeous mate, she clearly wants you. What the fuck are you doing now?” 

 I flinched. He noticed. “Look, I seriously hate talking about this. Can we talk about the fact that I didn’t invite anyone tonight?” 

 “Aw, was Viv busy?”

 “Alright, stop.” 

 A chill shot down my spine at the rejection. As much as I wanted to appreciate the fact he didn’t invite anyone, it didn’t help. This wasn’t helping at all. “I’m sorry if I want to talk about your relationships that directly affect me,” I said, rolling out of his arms.

 “Y/N, please. It’s not like that.” His voice was tired, pleading, coaxing me to forget. 

 “But why are you like this? Why did you just say what you did to me?”

 “You asked me-”

 “It was very belittling.” I changed my voice to a dopey British accent, “Viv’s gorgeous what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?” I ignored his scowl. “Really, thanks for the best compliment of the night.” I pushed against his chest, annoyed. “And why are you being like this now? All cuddly and-”

 “It’s not one-sided.” 

 I felt my cheeks heat. “Not tonight. But it’s one-sided any other time.”   

 “S’that what you really think of me?” He pulled me closer, and I fought the urge to twist away. His forehead pressed into my hair. “Firstly, you’re fucking beautiful Y/N. You have to know this. And you have to know you’re important to me. And secondly…”

 “Thirdly,” I corrected.

 His eyes turned somber. “They’re watching,” he mumbled, pleading. “This is hard for me, too.” 

 The gang, the cops, both, whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. No matter how special he claimed I was to him, we always went in circles. Maybe he had gotten it right. Maybe it was better for both of us if we weren’t together. “Why is it so hard then?” I whispered. 

 “Nothing good comes easy.”

 I remained silent. It was a cop-out response.

 He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Because I’m fucked! I’m fucked, Y/N and there’s only so many people I can hide from. And you aren’t one of them.” 

 It was the most candid he’d ever been with me, without revealing anything at all.

 A knock sounded at the door. 

 I went to move, but he kept me against him, covering my ears as he shouted- 

 “FUCK OFF!!” 

 But even with his hands over my ears, it wasn’t very muted. The knock grew louder, more obnoxious. 

 “Sorry,” he grumbled, moving to open the door. When it opened, a boy wearing a snapback around the same height as Harry leant against the doorframe.

 “Wassup, man-” Snapback almost burst in.

 Harry’s back went stiff as the stranger’s snapback practically poked Harry in the eye. If their overcompensating confidence and too-familiar smile told me anything – freshmen. At least Snapback’s friend wore a Bond-inspired bow-tie t-shirt.

 Harry put a hand to Snapback’s chest, backing him back out of the room. They watched me walk up behind him.

 “Hey, relax man, we just wanted to get some zombies,” Bowtie bargained. 

 “You’ve got some fucking balls,” he snarled.

 My ears pricked. He was looking for the same thing, then. From Harry. My heart sunk to the lowest part of my belly after remembering why I’d come here in the first place. The sliver of hope I’d had was that maybe what Zayn had witnessed was just Harry’s past. A summer blunder. A summer fling with an illegal hobby. You know, some kids did drugs, some kids sold drugs... It was a ridiculously stupid comparison now that I thought about it. But still, I had hope. Now my undeniable denial was being shred up right in front of me.

 The cops, the gang, the drugs circulating campus…

 Harry had made his bed, and I was lying in it. 

 I squeezed past him.

 “Wait, are you leaving?” He still blocked his doorway.

 I ignored the pang of guilt I felt at his boyish disappointment. He looked at me, body still intimidatingly rigid, but his eyes, impossibly soft. Snapback tried to move past him again and Harry whipped his head back with a growl. “Get the fuck out of here.” 

 “Excuse me?” Bowtie came closer, puffing out his muscled chest. Testosterone, angst and alcohol were never the best combination. I grew nervous at the tension, looking from my escape at the end of the hall, back to Harry. 

 “C’mon, we have the cash. We’ll pay double!” Snapback whined, cornering him. 

 The words made me nauseous, conjuring the image of Viv sliding Harry the cash. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to see anything again.

 “I don’t do that shit anymore.” He strode through their barricade, determined, but Bowtie tugged him back. His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. He could ruin these guys if he wanted to. I don’t know why he was letting them keep him. But I also didn’t know why I didn’t run away. It was like watching a train wreck seconds before it happened.

 I stood alone, in the center of the hall, the only person on Harry’s horizon. A lighthouse hoping to steer the sailor home.

 “C’mon, please man, everyone’s talking about them. We just need one,” Snapback exhorted. He put up his hands, pleading. “We’ll split one. We’ll seriously cut it in half.” 

 Even from here, I could see the muscles in his neck tense. I tried doing to him what he did to everyone else. I trapped him, wide-eyed, anchoring him to me. He didn’t break our stare.

 As if each word scraped against his skull, “I said I don’t do that shit.”

 “That’s a fucking joke. Mark got some last week,” Bowtie barked.

 I saw the moment I lost him. In what world I thought I could be enough to harbor him, I had no idea. Harry snapped, kicking the steroid-pumped kid so hard in the knee, it knocked him down. It wasn’t a broken bone, but it’d leave one hell of a bruise.  

 “Dude, are you crazy?!” Snapback cried. 

 Harry raised his fist, bringing it flying. I gasped and hid my face. But I didn’t hear an impact. I faced them again.

 Harry’s fist froze inches before his cheek. Facing what would have been a badly broken nose, Bowtie shook on the floor. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed his hovering fist and folded his arms, squatting next to the quivering guy. “You’re fucking welcome I was in a good mood ‘fore you came, otherwise I wouldn’t be acting so polite.”  

 The squeak of a floorboard shook Harry back to Earth. He caught me walking away and his whole body straightened, once again hyper-focused on me, trying to tune in and trap me exactly where I stood. Taking advantage of his distraction, Snapback and Bowtie ran for it. Bowtie limped, running into me and knocking me off-balance as he passed.

 In a second, it was just us. 

 “Y/N,” he began, walking towards me cautiously. 

 “No.” 

 He stopped in his tracks. He was tall, but his shoulders hung in despondent defeat.

 “You were right, Harry.” 

 I could see how tired he was. I could see the broken pieces fitting into something beautiful. He looked so sad and regretful, I already felt guilty for saying,

 “You can’t hide anymore.” And with one last look at the broken boy before me, “You are fucked.” 

 Suddenly, the beer on the floor was just stale and sticky. The couches were filthy from strangers’ mistakes. And the air would never be clear. Harry had been right. This entire house was filled with people who didn’t care and if they did, they were trying to forget; a place more empty than if it were vacant. It was a mess just like the boy living in it. And just like the grand house, impressive at first glance, not all of his parts were beautiful.

 I ignored the way his broken pieces seemed to shatter as soon as I said it and the way it hurt me ten-fold. I ignored him calling out my name as I maneuvered through the blur of bodies, until I lost his voice on the dance floor. I could breathe better outside and I walked past the cops without acknowledging them. 

 From complete chaos to relative quiet, my ears rung, filling the new silence.

 Maybe this was the last time we’d speak. Maybe this was how it all should’ve ended that first day in September. Because in that house, that wasn’t the Harry I thought I’d knew. That was a boy far-gone, confused, and I was falling down with him. I was ANGRY. I PITIED him. And I was angry for feeling something else I should never have felt for him.

 Somehow, in this fuzzy ringing world buzzing with heated thoughts and cop lights that blurred my vision, I heard a notepad scribble as soon as I passed a squad car. 

 Lucky for me, Momma always said I had selective hearing.

part 21

[moiraxknight]

@knightsarmor

Moira sat back more comfortably, legs folded in lotus position, a coffee cup resting on her hands as she waited for the recording light to poop on the Zoom call. Her very first podcast interview. It still felt odd to her, Moira had done some interviews for art journals, spoke in art events for universities and illustrator panels on conventions, but this felt weirdly personal. Micah had been the one to convince her to do it, it could help people feel more connected to her work. She saw the pink haired girl on the screen silently count down from three on her fingers and nodded, adjusting her headphones and mic.

“Hello, hello, and welcome to episode fifty seven of So That’s Art.” Bianca greeted loudly and Moira held back a chuckle. “The podcast that exists to prove your parents that it is possible to be an artist and still retire on a beach in Europe”. She continued, bringing a smile to Moira’s face. 

Moira moved the laptop slightly to divert from the reflection of the windows behind her, not wanting to pull the curtains back completely. She was sitting on the kitchen desk now. Oliver was working in their office and she didn’t want to distract him with all the talking. 

“We have a very special guest today, my very favorite Instagram creator, illustrator, Skillshare instructor, artist, painter. The one and only Jewish icon, Moira Lieberman.” Bianca introduced her. 

Moira Lieberman-Knight, she thought, but didn’t correct the girl. “Hi, Bianca, thanks for having me here.” Moira greeted back, nodding her head politely before taking a sip from the coffee. Wolf came waltzing down the stairs and went straight to her lap, curling up in a hairless ball there. 

“Thank you for agreeing to be here, it’s a fucking honor.” The girl insisted, bringing another smile to Moira’s lips. “How are you today?”

“I’m perfectly fine today, thank you for asking! How are you?” Moira asked, cup halfway to her lips again. 

“I’m great, really excited to talk to you today, Life of Liebs is one of my favorite series ever.” She said. “Which I guess takes me right into my first question today, how did that come about for you? No, wait, my first question is: is Liebs actually you, one hundred percent you?” 

Moira was expecting that question because she knew most of the questions here weren’t going to actually be about her art and its details. “Well, she is and she isn’t.” Moira thought of a way to explain. “Life of Liebs came to me when someone in my life suggested that I drew some of the things that happened in my life, you know, growing up Jewish, being an artists and everything. And before it became a series, sometimes I would draw comic version of me and my best friends in college...”

“The Exhausted Four.” Bianca added and Moira nodded.

“Yeah, I’d make those comics to lighten up finals week and stuff, so I already had this hand for turning people into characters. Then I got this push and I started seeing how some situations I went through could be fun and relatable and that’s how Life of Liebs was born.” She grinned. “But all characters in there aren’t the exact people in my life, they are a comic version of them, some sort of alternative universe, Liebs included. When I draw a scene, that drawing was probably twenty percent of what was actually going on in real life.”

“That’s awesome.” Bianca seemed really mesmerized. “All the characters then are actual people? Based on those people, I mean.

“Yeah, I don’t usually create completely fictional characters, I like real stories and that’s one of the most beautiful parts of my job. Getting to recreate an artistic version of people’s lives.” Moira spoke with a proud grin on her lips, catching Oliver at the corner of her eye, coming into the kitchen to grab some coffee.  Staying as far as he could from the camera while wearing only a pair of grey sweats. 

“I think Naenae might be my favorite character.” Bianca added with a laugh.

“She is pretty amazing, yeah.” Moira couldn’t disagree, Naina was a gem.

“You know those comics brought a lot of followers to your friends, right? Why did you stop tagging them?” Bianca asked.

“Well, while my friends agreed to be a part of my work, some people were getting a little out of hand.” Moira said sincerely. “They have families and lives they wish to protect and I respect that so now I only tag people that I work with or clients that allow me to do so.” She added. 

“I get that, yeah.” Bianca nodded. “You still tag Mystery Boots man, though.” The girl added with a devious smile and Moira glanced at a smirking Oliver leaned against the counter, watching her while he drank his coffee.

“I do, yeah.” Moira said simply.

“Where did that come from, by the way? The whole mystery?” 

“I don’t know, I still don’t understand.” Moira admitted with a laugh, trying not to stare at him while she talked. “I posted a drawing of two people’s feet and I tagged him and I guess because his account has no pictures of him, people started freaking out. It was never supposed to be a mystery, just me keeping aspects of my life private. Eventually I just took the opportunity and got in the game so people would stop asking invasive questions.” She shrugged.

“So Knight’s actually a person, then? People think the faceless pictures you’ve posted were all staged to keep the mystery.” Bianca said and Moira laughed wholeheartedly.

“I love that people think I have that time and energy.” She shook her head. “No, he’s a real person, he exists.” Moira glanced at him and lifted her cup, mouthing for him to fill it up. Oliver came without showing up on camera and filled it up to her, taking her smile as a thank you and going back to the counter, sitting on it now. 

“Liebs and Knight are a couple on the comics, right?” The girl pushed and Moira snorted, nodding. She had never hid that, not even the fact that Oliver was real and in her life daily, she simply didn’t show his face or posted comics of them kissing, but she knew where the questions were going. “So what you put there is relatable couple moments? Your moments with him?”

“Twenty percent of the moment, yes.” She nodded. 

“Mystery boots man is based on your real life boyfriend then? For real?” Bianca insisted. 

Moira looked at him and Oliver nodded gently, a small smile hidden behind his cup. People had noticed her engagement ring first and then her wedding ring on the videos she did when she was drawing. But the comics hadn’t followed the perfect timeline of her life with Oliver, not with other series coming in between, other comics uploaded daily. Liebs and Knight were still getting earfuls from her grandma about living together before marriage. Moira and Oliver had come back from their honeymoon a month ago. 

“My husband, yes.” Moira looked back at the camera and laughed when she heard Bianca’s loud gasp.

“Is that him you keep looking at?” The girl asked and Moira just sipped from her coffee. “Okay, okay, you all heard it here first, Liebs and Knight are endgame.” She announced.

Moira laughed, shaking her head, glancing at Oliver as he rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips. 

“Do we get a wedding comic soon?” Bianca inquired.

The Knightman Chronicles did, a beautiful comic that hung on the wall above Oliver’ side of the office, Moira in a beautiful black and silver dress with a long tail, Oliver in the most beautiful medieval wedding attire, fit for a king. No uniform, no bear skin. Only one last medal on her veil and a bear claw on his lapel. But that was just for them, as it had always been. Oliver stared into her eyes from where he was and then smiled, sliding from the counter and leaving his cup in the sink. Come to me when you’re done, he mouthed to her and Moira licked her lips discreetly, nodding. She knew well what that look he gave her meant. 

“Twenty percent of it.” Moira smiled back at the camera, already thinking of how she could end that interview soon to go unveil the mysteries behind that Mysterious boots husband of hers. 

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Makin’ Whoopee

Summary:  The Sugardrops are in need of a pianist, and who better to fill the role than newly-minted 18yr old Bucky Barnes.  The charismatic front lady known as Sugar gives him an opportunity he can’t refuse, in exchange for something precious; his innocence.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x OFC

Word Count:  5.5k

Warnings:  18+.  Mentions of the state of racial relations synonymous with the 1940s, injury that’s speculated to be related to hate crime, plenty of flirting and smut at the end.

A/N:  One shot written for @the-omni-princess​‘s 1k follower writing challenge filling the prompt of Band AU.  Congrats on the milestone your majesty, and thank you for letting me take part :)  The character of Sugar is styled after Mae West with the looks of Rita Hayworth, Nick is based on comic book Nick Fury rather than Samuel.L. and the encore song is performed like Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys.  Enjoy!

Cassidy’s Bar.  He’s only ever been in here once, when his cousin Nora had gotten married to that rat-faced asshole, Billy?  Bobby?  Barry? It was something ending in ‘y’, anyway, and that’s exactly what his Ma had said; why?

Turned out the why was babies and the who was Mr Rat-face and the when was, well, so far before the question of marriage that poor Nora was round on her wedding day.

They had the same seats at the bar, Bucky thinks, him and his uncle Tony.  One beer was all he was allowed the first time, but tonight, uncle Tony is on a mission.

“Happy Birthday, kid.” The older man clinks his glass against the one warming in Bucky’s grasp, a man’s amber fire to the boy’s weak beer. “Drink up and I’ll get you another before the band starts.”

Gulping the bitter draught down, Bucky feels it warm his guts, loosening knots inside him he didn’t even know were there.  It’s his third pint, and though he’s had beer at home, he’s never had more than one in a bar where the dim lights and choking smoke are making him feel woozier than the drink.  He’s never felt like one of the men and never thought of himself as one, not even now.

Whoops and whistles. That’s how you know there’s a dame on the stage.  She’s pretty, too, Bucky thinks, watching her slink over to the manager in a dress made of green satin and what looks like liquid suns dripping from her shoulders.  It’s much too classy for a place like this and Bucky wonders if she’s some Hollywood starlet fallen from grace with her auburn waves and lips as red as victory.

Stunning.  He’s changed his mind, there’s nothing pretty about her.  She’s sexy as sin and all the men know it, hell, even she knows it.

Tony is already pushing another drink into his hand as he leads Bucky to a table by the stage, a smaller glass that tinkles as he walks.  One sip and Bucky thinks the beer is better, this stuff burns as it evaporates off his tongue.

“Looks like we got ourselves a problem.”  The starlets voice is smooth and sultry, if a little husky.  “Sammy can’t play.  It’s his hand, see.”

Her dark-skinned companion is nursing a busted hand that looks far worse than just bloodied knuckles from a fight.  If Bucky didn’t know better he’d have said the man met with a car door, a hammer, or a vicious bootheel; integrated bands are something of a controversy, hell, integrated anything is.

“Great, just great!” The bar manager groans.  “So what am I supposed to do about it?  Can’t you do without him, sugar lips?”  The bar manager is a beast of a man; jaw like a tank and shoulders to match, buzz-cut that’s a remnant from military service and an eye-patch that lends nothing but intimidation to his demeanour.

“Gee, I dunno, Nick!” One hand fists against the sassy cock of her hip, she lets rip with the sarcasm.  “Can a piano do without its pianist?”

Nick scoffs wordlessly, chewing the end of his cigar.

“A girl needs a good ivory pounder.”  She says with a wink, her tone suggestive enough to make Nick’s ears turn red. “Sam’s my best guy.”

“He ain’t poundin’ nuthin’ for a while.”

“More’s the pity.” She sidles up to him seductively, there is nothing subtle about her play, even Bucky can see she’s trying to manipulate the man.  “You got any hidden talent around here you been keepin’ from me?”

In the moments between her wink and the soft glide of her hand down the front of his shirt, Nick’s face turns pink, then red, and he’s choking on smoke.

“Help a girl out?”  A tempting pout and the flutter of eyelashes punctuate her request.

“I’ll ask around.”  He says with a tight smile as the starlet turns with a sway of her hip and sashays away.

The gents in the lounge are rowdy now, after catching a glimpse of the much-anticipated leading lady. The call for attention is barely heard but word passes between the tables that they’re asking for a pianist.

“You should get yourself up there.”  Uncle Tony nudges Bucky with his elbow, an almost proud look on his face.

“Play piano in front of all these people?”  Bucky has never been the nervous type, but he is now.  He’s only ever played the piano for the family at home, and the teachers and pupils at the music school.

“Sure, kid!”  Tony claps him on the shoulder.  “You’re as good as any of ‘em.”

“I dunno, uncle Tony.” Bucky sinks down in his seat, almost sensing what’s coming next.

“Hey!”  Tony is on his feet, waving to the hefty bar manager. “I got a pianist!”

There’s laughter all around, because Tony sounds like he just said ‘penis’, and that makes Bucky even more mortified when Nick is suddenly stood in front of them.

“You play?”  Nick is gruff and down to business.

“My nephew.”  Tony hits Bucky on the arm with the back of his hand, a gesture that says ‘sit up straight’.

“How old are you, kid?” Narrowed eyes scrutinise, and Bucky blanches.  He’s old enough to be in here but he feels so out of place he still doubts he belongs.

“Eighteen today, sir.” Bucky steels himself.  He’s not going to be this nervous kid.  He’s Bucky Barnes, confident and charming, and most definitely not intimidated by a piano, a beautiful redhead and a burly bar manager (eye-patch or not).  At least that’s who he wants to be.

“And you play?”

Bucky nods.

“Come with me.”

Tony is stuffing the tumbler into his hand again and pushing him out of his seat towards the stage with a cheer.  There’s a bit of shuffling as Bucky finds his stride.  Chairs scrape out of the way as he passes and it feels like he’s walking the plank; shark infested waters are all around him, the men sneer a little at the sight of him, just a boy, being lead backstage where the starlet and her band are getting ready.

Backstage isn’t as glamourous as Bucky thought it would be.  The reception room is dingy and cramped, merely a glorified store room compared to the plush furnishings and flattering lighting that he imagined. Eight sets of eyes turn to stare at him as he enters behind the mountainous Nick.  He’s intimidated and starting to sweat but that’s the least of his worries when a swathe of red hair and green satin is invading his personal space.

She looks him up and down with a sly smirk.

“I know I like ‘em young, but I’m not one for wet nursing.”  It’s salacious, the tone she uses, almost like she’s purposefully trying to ruffle feathers.

“He’s not for your boudoir, Sugar, he’s for the piano.”

“Oh, why not?”  She winks subtly, pulling her lips into a playful smile.  “A man in the boudoir is worth two on the street.”

“Sugar…”  Another redhead chastises.  She’s older but there’s a resemblance, sisters, maybe cousins.

“Oh, alright, spoil my fun.” Sugar plucks the drink from Bucky’s hand, fingertips brushing lightly against him leaving a trail of goosebumps coursing up his arm.  Her eyes never leave his as she lifts the glass to her painted lips and sips.  “I always get what I want, eventually.”

She’s turning away from him and his glass is back in his hand like it never left, save for the scarlet red print that perfectly resembles the fullness of her lower lip. Bucky swallows.  She’s a dangerous woman and he knows she can chew him up and spit him out in ruins, but hell if he’s not willing to let her do it.

“Sam’s the name.”  The dark-skinned fellow interrupts, introducing himself and offering his uninjured hand to shake.  His injuries are hidden by off-white crepe and gauze now, out of sight out of mind for the rest of the band.

“James.”  Bucky clears his throat.  “James Barnes.  But my friend’s call me Bucky.”

“You read music, James Barnes?”  ‘Sugar’ levels a torturously flirtatious glance over her bejewelled shoulder. Everything about her screams seduction and sexuality; she’s unashamedly feminine but predatory like no woman he’s ever seen.

“Yes, ma’am.  I do.”  Bucky battles his nerves.  “And I can play by heart.”

Sugar turns, a slow blink fanning her long lashes against her rosy cheek before she’s dragging her eyes up his body.  “Show me.”

In the corner of the room is a busted upright piano that is much in need of repair.  It’s older than his grandpa’s but the keys are clean and it looks to work.

“You want me to play here?” He should have known there would be an audition.

“Scared to show us the goods, kid?”  And older gentleman with dark curly hair shifts in his seat, his hands are large and his fingers thick and calloused.  He isn’t stocky but he isn’t a beanpole either, and he’s got a nervous tick, just below his right eye which tells Bucky the man has a temper.

“Bruce is right.” Sugar purred, leaning closer.  “An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promise.”  Moist pinkness pokes playfully at the corner of her perfectly pained mouth, the teasing tip of her tongue then sweeps her upper lip deliciously.

Bucky jumps into action, if only to distance himself from the sight and scent of the woman who seems hell bend on turning him into a mess of jangling nerves and tight trousers.

The stool is hard but the perfect height.  Bucky runs his fingers over the keys, rippling out scales to test the instrument’s tuning.  His music school diploma kicking in as he opens the booklet of sheet music at the first page.

It’s a tense moment as he starts to play, finding that some of the music has been amended in a chicken-scratch scrawl, little finesses added here and there and a different tempo, but Bucky knows the song.  He bangs out Puttin’ on the Ritz, relaxing into the music as a tall mousy-blonde man in his late twenties, sits by the piano and taps out a percussion rhythm on the wood, and the older redhead starts to sing along.  Her voice is quite lovely, Bucky thinks.

Sam nods approvingly but Sugar isn’t completely convinced.

“Play me something you think I’ll like.”  She says. “From the heart.”  The last words are tainted with a sigh.

Bucky thinks he knows the perfect song.  It’s more of a joke than anything, the reason it pops into his head is purely because of her salacious innuendos.  It starts off a little jerky, as he plays some of the string and trumpet parts on the piano but when the tune fully kicks in everyone is laughing, even Sugar is grinning.  The blonde picks up the beat, tapping on his legs and the side of the piano, curly-haired Bruce is humming and boom’ping in time as a bass, and a tiny blonde kid he’d never seen plays a mock trumpet.

When Sugar starts to sing ‘Makin’ Whoopee’, it’s somethin’ else.  The cadence of her voice is just like she is, rich, velvety and incredibly seductive.  She comes to sit on the stool next to Bucky, swaying and snapping her fingers along with the music.  As far as impromptu jams go it wasn’t half bad, and the mood is suddenly lighter when the song is done.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises, James Barnes.”  Sugar adjusts a piece of his hair that has fallen out of his smoothly combed do.

“It’s just Bucky.”  He sighs bashfully, almost melting at her proximity.  Red lacquered nails and glistening red lips, soft cascading waves of copper leading his eyes down from her face to the sweetheart line of her dress and a scandalously deep cleavage he has no business staring at.

Suddenly he’s being pulled to his feet and introduced to the rest of the band.  Peter is the percussionist, he’s easy-going and a bit of a joker.  The little guy is Steve, he’s the trumpet player but, like Bucky, he can play a few instruments, just not the piano.  Bruce plays the double bass.  The older redhead is Natasha, she’s on backing vocals with another redhead called Wanda and yet another redhead called Gamora.  Bucky notices that Wanda and Gamora aren’t natural redheads but they all fit together so well it’s hard to notice from afar.

The lounge looks completely different from where he’s stood at the edge of the stage behind a dusty red curtain.  He can see uncle Tony drinking a pint and laughing with a guy at the adjacent table, no doubt talking about how proud he is of his nephew, god knows his daughter is a disappointment; poor Nora who got pregnant before she was married.

Bucky necks his drink. The ice has already melted but it does little to quench the burn of the whiskey, still, liquid courage eh?

Soon he’s being ushered out onto the stage with the rest of the band.  There’s a light smattering of applause and a huge cheer from uncle Tony as Bucky takes his seat at the grand piano.  Sam is there with songbooks and a list of tunes they’re going to play tonight.

“Any of these you don’t know?”  Sam hands him the paper and it shakes in Bucky’s fingers.

They’re all covers, of course, a small band can’t put out original songs in a lounge like this and earn a living.  They’re all fairly recent songs, too, keeping up with current trends.  Bucky knows them all well enough to play them by heart, but Sam likes to make notes on the sheet music to tweak the songs a little more to fit their ensemble.

Bucky scans down the list, smiling when he sees songs like Daddy, Blue Champagne, and Strange Fruit. He can imagine Sugar singing them, how wonderfully they will work with her voice.

“I think so.”  Bucky nods, confidence building through the panic because he knows he can do this.

Another glass of whiskey is set atop the piano for him and Sam is leaving with a reassuring pat on the shoulder, leaving him to stare at the crowds in the lounge, leaving him to the adrenaline and the nausea in his guts.

Suddenly there are whistles and whoops, that’s how you know the dames have hit the stage.  The three backing singers stroll on, waving and smiling brightly.  Bucky is surprised to see Wanda carrying a fiddle; she’s like him and little Steve, multi-talented.

And there’s Sugar.  He sees her before she’s clear of the side curtain.  She’s all confident strides, swaying hips and a non-too-subtle wobble at the sweetheart bodice of her dress.  He barely notices the crowd now all he can hear is the frantic thrum of his pulse whooshing in his ears.  His mouth goes dry as she makes eye contact with him and he feels as though she’s going to walk right past the microphone, right up to him, and show him what those smirking red lips can do.  

But she doesn’t, and her attention is no longer on him but on the crowd.

“Well, hello there Cassidy’s!  We are The Sugardrops!”  Christ she’s just as seductive when she addresses the whole room.  “My, my we’ve got some handsome gentlemen out there tonight, wouldn’t you agree ladies?”  She’s playing up to her girls and to the crowd.  “Tonight, for your entertainment pleasure we’re going to perform a few numbers.”

“YOU CAN PERFORM ON MY LAP, IF YOU’D LIKE!”  A drunken jeer erupts from the crowd, already the men are worked up.

Bucky glances from the dishevelled heckler to Sugar who is giving her most amused smile.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve been in more laps than a napkin.”  She shifts her weight, popping her hip to the side.  “Yours ain’t nothing special.”

Laughter drowns out the spluttering heckler who is suddenly shoved into his seat by burly Nick, with the warning ‘behave yourself or get out’.

She’s incredible. Bucky thinks.  So confident and sassy.  He’s never seen a woman like her in his whole life.  She’s larger than life, and more alluring than a precious stone.

She clears her throat, pinning him with a stare.

Jumping to action for the second time at her request, he poises himself and waits for the trumpet to start the first song; Nice Work if You Can Get it.

Steve is good, he’s got good lungs for a scrawny kid and he blasts out an intro that’s picked up by Bruce on the double bass.  Then Bucky is joining in and Peter with the subtle snare and high-hat setting a swinging rhythm.  Sugar and the girls croon out the lyrics and Bucky finds himself joining in, bouncing on his stool with the music.

Before he knows it the song is done and he’s barely looked at the music sheet.  It all feels so natural to him, like he’s meant to be here with these people, on this stage, playing his heart out.  It’s been a while since he felt any love for music other than something to dance to, with a girl on his arm, maybe one who’ll let him kiss her at the end of the night, maybe one who’ll let him stroke his hand up to the top of her stockings.

Applause rings out and he can hear uncle Tony cheering.  There’s an exchanged grin and a proud nod from the elder man, tears in his eyes like he’s looking at his own son.  Of course, Tony only had daughters, so Bucky was special to him; a fellow man in the family.

Sugar is peppy as she sings, almost prancing around the stage, energised by the folks who are dancing on the dancefloor in front of the stage.

Hey, listen to my story, ‘bout a gal named Daisy Mae Lazy Daisy Mae Her disposition, is rather sweet and charming At times alarming, so they say

Glass empty and another replaces it, sitting in the same condensation ring that marks its predecessor; Bucky has lost count of the drinks as the songs have flown by.  The swell of emotion in his chest as he pounds or tinkles the ivories as desired, it’s almost euphoric.  So much so, he doesn’t notice Sugar sashaying his way as she sings.

She has a man who’s tall-dark-handsome, large and strong To whom she used to sing this song

She drags her fingertips up his arm as she sings, over his shoulder, neck and into his hair.  Then she spins, resting her back on his, dipping to her haunches and arching her back, earning whistles from the crown, a vicious blush from Bucky and a few fumbled notes of the tune.

Hey, Daddy, I want a diamond ring, bracelets, everything Daddy, you oughta get the best for me

Hey, Daddy, gee, don’t I look swell in sables? Clothes with Paris labels? Daddy, you oughta get the best for me

Bucky is already lost in the sway of her hips and the glistening red of her lips.  She’s singing about champagne and caviar but all he hears are the breathy moments in between the verses where she’s almost gasping for breath.

He can’t remember how many whiskey’s he’s had but he knows now it’s too many.  His skin burns and he needs air but all there is, is the rhythm of the music, the feel of the ivory under the pads of his fingers and a tightness in his groin that’s been building since she first levelled her glittering eyes at him.

Now she’s dancing around him, touching him, and teasing him with her sensuality, he’s already gone. He just prays the music comes out fine.

“You got one more song in you, sweetheart?”  Sugar is leaning over him, her lips brush the shell of his ear and her perfume permeates down into his lungs, heady and so perfect.  She’s got bare shoulders now, the bejewelled bolero jacket that was part of her dress now adorns the top of the piano with several empty glasses.

“One more song?”  He blinks up and her and she grins, stroking his face gently.  The crowd are calling for an encore and Sugar is thriving on their attention.

“Just one more.”  She assures him.  “For me?”

She doesn’t need to ask, he’s already caught in her snare, captivated by the desire in her voice and the heat in her gaze.  He doesn’t know if it’s real, but he doesn’t care.  He’s never been wanted like this by any woman, let alone one as gorgeous as her, and he’s never been so desperate to give a woman what she so clearly craves.

The rest of the band have gone back stage and it’s just the two of them out under the lights.  Bucky feels so nervous all of a sudden he could lose his dinner but when Sugar climbs up on top of the piano, legs curled to the side, he’s more concerned with avoiding the view right up her legs.

Bucky is about to ask, but when she turns to him and winks, he knows what song.

Tinkling the keys, he delves into a soft and seductive jazz melody that’s so perfect for her it’s like her soul is pouring out into the air.  Her grin is astonishing it lights her face up, stripping years off her like she’s closer to his age now instead of in her thirties.

Then she’s melting the words so they come out coy and teasing, and she’s flirting with her whole body; just enough leg, just enough cleavage, a perfectly-timed toss of her stunning red hair, and every time she says the words ‘makin’ whoopee’ his johnson twitches in his pants.  But she’s not doing it for him, she’s doing it for them, or she’s doing it for her, it really doesn’t matter who, he thinks.  She’s right there in front of him and it’s his music she’s moving to, his fingers making the notes that set her on fire, it’s him who she looks back towards and winks at subtly.

Later it’s him who she’s taking by the hand and it’s him whose lips are trailing down her neck. It’s him who is unzipping her dress and trailing his hands over her hips as he pushes the fabric to the floor.  He doesn’t know how he got here but he isn’t complaining, not one bit.

She’s a sight to behold. Her lips are swollen and smeared red where he’s messed her lipstick, and she’s panting as she strips him of his shirt. Once he’s down to his shorts, erection tenting the front, she lifts his hands to her breasts where the stiff fabric of a strapless number presses against his palms.  He stalls out, suddenly not sure what to do.  He’s never gone this far with a girl before, let alone a woman like her.

Her smirk is beguiling as she shoves him backward into a worn, ochre-coloured armchair.  His panic is momentary and he settles, sat forward, watching as she lifts her leg and with toes pressed to his chest, she pushes him back against the cushions.

The teasing way she unhooks her sheer stockings has a wet patch forming in the front of his shorts, the weeping tip of his johnson is eager.  When her legs are bare she turns, presenting him with her clothed bottom. Then she bends, oh so slowly. Dragging her knickers down, exposing herself to him.

She mustn’t know he’s untested in the boudoir (as burly Nick put it earlier in the night), or she wouldn’t be teasing him so much.  His brain is spouting words from the good book, somewhere in the depths; he’s never been one to listen but when they sound like his Ma he can’t help it.  Lead us not into temptation.

“Temptation?”  Sugar chuckles. Had he said that aloud?  “Why resist it?  There’ll always be more.”  She tosses her knickers at him and steps forward.

Straddling his lap she places his hands on her hips as she rolls her body, unclothed womanhood dragging against the hardness in his shorts.  Her bra is unhooked at the back and her perfect breasts spill forward in front of his ogling eyes.

“Touch me.”  She moans softly, spurring him into action.

Kissing his way down her neck and into the valley between her gloriously large breasts, he cups her in both hands and squeezes, rubbing his palms over her nipples until they’re hard. She guides him carefully, showing him how to pinch and play with them, not too roughly but just firmly enough to have her gasping.

“I’ve never…”  He swallows hard.  Bucky Barnes has a reputation as a man all the ladies swoon after, but he’s no match for a woman of her experience.

“I know.”  She moves against him, reaching down until her fingers reach her sex, and she’s stroking herself leisurely.  “I’ve known plenty of men who didn’t know how to please a woman.” She moans, sliding her fingers fully inside herself as Bucky watches, astonished.  “I’ve always found the time to teach every single one of them.”

She lifts her fingers to his mouth and he opens instinctively, feeling the salty sweet slide of her over his tongue.  Lips close around her and he’s drinking her taste down with a groan.  He wants to taste her again so he reaches down, strokes his fingers through the wet heat of her core, not brave enough to push them inside as she had, not yet anyway.  He smears her arousal across her nipple and brings it to his mouth, sucking and nibbling. Just like with his fingers, there’s a balance to be found in the playful bite, firm suck and soothing lick of his mouth.

Soon, Sugar is practically singing for him.  All her sassy flirtations are gone and she’s telling him what she wants.  Her nipples and lips are swollen from his attention and the front of his shorts are soaked with both his and her arousal.  The skin of her neck and chest is flushed red as she grinds against the finger he’s got buried in her womanhood.  The beckoning motion she’d shown him is making his hand ache but he’s too wrapped up in the beauty of her to care.  He’s never seen a woman orgasm before, let alone been the cause. He’s strung tight, excited beyond belief and she hasn’t even touched him yet.

Then he feels it; a tightening of the flesh around his middle finger.  She’s quivering with need, working so hard toward the release she’s desperate for.  It seems to go on forever, like she’s hanging on to the pleasure for grim death, but it’s just not enough.

Feeling bold he pulls back and gives her a second finger, pushing deeper inside her until he can feel the soft spot he was rubbing before.  Digging his fingers in harder, he braces his thumb against the hooded nubbin beneath the whispy red of her pubic hair, and squeezes.

Her wail almost stops him in his tracks but the look on her face compels him to act.  Harder this time he pulls his fingers against her, milking that sweet spot inside until he can feel the spasms start.  Her breathing is erratic and she’s gyrating in his lap, shaking and moaning as her body spasms around his hand.  It’s powerful, the way her muscles work and even when they start to die down, Bucky carries on.

“Too much.”  She stills his hand with her own.  She looks so beautiful, all flushed and satisfied. He wants her, wants to be in her, to feel with his prick what he felt with his fingers.

His mouth is on hers as he thrusts his hands under her thighs and stands.  She squeals and clings to him a moment before she realises what’s happening.  He’s about to deposit her on the floor of her dressing room when she halts him.

Bucky has never seen a condom before.  He’s heard about them; standard issue for the army to stop the soldiers from catching venereal disease, and to stop them from fathering children in every city they visit. Sugar winks as she rolls the rubber down his erection.  It feels strange and tight against his skin, and through it her hand feels less pleasurable but he moans nonetheless.

A multi-coloured crochet blanket is put down with a pillow from the armchair, and she lies back with her legs spread for him.  The reddened petals of her flower are on display and Bucky feels the urge to taste her. Of course she’s sweet, and slightly musky but less salty than when he tasted from her fingers.  Her legs twitch each time he licks past the hooded nubbin above her entrance, and he fancies that that’s the way he’s going to make her orgasm again.

And he does just that, with her hands buried in his hair and his fingers deep in her once more, pulling gently this time, he kisses and licks her until she’s shaking and moaning for him.

“I like a man who pays attention.”  She smirks as he stares up at her with a look that’s no doubt revering.  “I like a man who makes me scream even better.”

With her hand on his shoulder, she urges him forward until he’s hovering over her, afraid to lay his weight on her.  It’s with a throaty giggle that she wraps her thighs around his hips and pulls him down, reaching between them to place the tip of his throbbing prick against her heat.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting.” She slaps his bare butt cheek.  “I might go find what I need elsewhere.”

With a determined grunt, Bucky pushes into her, pushes against the resistance of her flesh, pushes into the pleasure that shoots down his prick and tightens something low between his hips.  It feels so much different than touching himself, a less intense pleasure but there’s more of it, singing to the nerves in his abdomen and all the way up into his chest.

Sugar rolls her hips, urging him to move, and with her hands on his hips and her feet hooked under his buttocks she guides his movement, drawing from him smooth deep thrusts that hit all of the right spots for her and have him seeing stars before too long.

“I can’t… keep this… up.” He grunts, slightly ashamed that he can’t last.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She arches her back and sighs. “I’m close.  Keep going.”

Bucky is panting heavily as the pleasure overwhelms him.  Sugar is writhing and moaning beneath him and he can feel her muscles around him start to quake.

She’s going to climax, he thinks with joy.  She’s going to climax while I’m inside her.

That’s it for him, the pulsing pleasure coursing down his spine, all around his prick and tingling over his scalp – it’s amazing.  He spills into the condom but continues to thrust into her until she’s spent.  Then and only then does he collapse forward with a disbelieving chuckle.

“This is the first time I ever known a woman like you.”  He kisses her lips but she’s already turning away, rolling him off her to get some air.

“If I have my say, it won’t be the last.”  She winks but there’s no gleam in her eye.  She lights a cigarette and falls back onto that god-awful ochre chair.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or worship you.”  Bucky notices that she seems diminished somehow, like her light has gone.

“I wouldn’t say no to both.” She’s looking up, not at him, as she blows smoke up to the ceiling.  “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“For you, yeah.”  He’s coming across eager but he doesn’t care. A lot of the effects of the whiskey are fading and he knows what he’s doing.  He wants to see her again, to feel her again.

“What about the night after that?”

“Yes.”  The condom comes free with a dull twang.

“And the one after that?”

“Sure.”  He’s pulling on his shorts.

“Next week?

“Absolutely.”  Bucky kneels in front of that horrific chair.

“Next month?”  She asks, and he knows better than to think she wants a relationship. Someone like her could never be tied down.

“I’m free whenever you want me.”  He flashes her his most charming and cheeky smile.

Her laugh is stifled behind that coy smirk she favours as she swings the leg that’s cocked over the arm of the chair.  Her naked breasts and her womanhood are unashamedly and fully on display.  Hell, if it didn’t send tingles of desire down into his gut again.

“Oh, I want your fingers alright.”

“Just my fingers?”  He flirts back.

“For the purposes of the contract, yeah sweetheart, just your fingers.”  The smoke from a long drag is blown in his direction.  “The rest can be our little secret.”

“Contract?”  Bucky balks, confusion sending a jolt to his chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” The gleam is back in her eyes, and her sultry smile teases the corners of her plush mouth once more.  “Welcome to The Sugardrops, James Barnes.”

[fierce-little-miana]

Why do I like Medea?

@irleughlivelyatalanteangodfan asked “May I ask what you like most about Medea?”

To which my first reaction is what is there not to like?

Of course of course someone might answered me that even in the more positive version of the myth Medea is at the very least a murderer. In the worst version she is a fratricide, infanticide, and mass-murderer. So there are indeed things to discuss.

First I must say that I love Medea the most at her worst. I do believe the academics working on the myth finding trace of older versions in which Medea is not at her worst are producing necessary content because it is solid and necessary academic work. And it is not uninteresting to see how with each newer version her depiction tended to be blacken. There is indeed something to be said of a myth that goes from a mythical magical woman to a murderous vengeful woman, especially when this woman is powerful in her own right (her magic) and foreign (three things that ancient Greeks despised). But that is not the appeal of the character to me.

No I love Medea in her murderous rage. I love everything that “dark” Medea stands for. One of the main thing being:

Feminine Rage:

This the name I give to something that became, without me noticing it, one of my favorite tropes in media. It is when a woman just snaps when confronted for the umpteenth time with something fundamentally unfair, fundamentally degrading, that is only leveraged against her because she is a woman.  

There are ways women are supposed to bear pain, humiliation, or attacks against themselves, that are dignified and are positively recognized by society. Gendered ways. While a man is going to fight against adversity a woman is going to endure it. I personally find it extremely disempowering. Resilience has good sides of course but it is not proactive, it is enduring a situation up until it changes of its own accord. Yet this is what women are taught to do. And women are taught to be resilient in the eyes of a society that covers them with outrages specifically because they are women.

A woman who ends up resorting to violence is a great transgressor. Violence is a transgression that might get women completely shun from the “civilized” world (whereas it is not automatic for men). And yet I think there is a secret fear/desire for a lot of women that they are actually one step or two away to falling into primal violence (I am not saying that all women feel like that obviously but the idea seems to speak to too many to be described as only personal).

I recently found this quote that goes in this sens pretty well:

“almost every woman i have ever met has a secret belief that she is just on the edge of madness, that there is some deep, crazy part within her, that she must be on guard constantly against ‘losing control’ — of her temper, of her appetite, of her sexuality, of her feelings, of her ambition, of her secret fantasies, of her mind”

Elana Dykewomon “Notes for a Magazine”

Women are divorced from their violent impulse, from a part of themselves, for the best and for the worst. This feminine rage is powerful way to reconnect with this part of themselves in a eyes of a society that keeps on tormenting them.

That’s what Medea story is in the end. A total dip in primal violence to avenge all the offenses she had to bear because she is a woman. And she only can regain her dignity, and a real agency through this violence.

Medea’s story is incredibly gendered. Sure there is the theme of who is the real criminal: the one committing the crime or the one not preventing it and benefiting from it? But it is mainly the story of a woman who sacrificed everything she had (rank, reputation, honor, morality) to make her husband and family succeed. She got her husband out of all dangerous situations they faced together, and has even offered him opportunity he wouldn’t have had without her. The story of Medea is the one of an older woman whose husband can’t use her anymore after having made her sacrifice everything.

So Medea snaps and exercises powerful violence on her husband and everyone who is working with him to strap her of what remains: her sense of self (I don’t know if it is in every version but in at least some of them Creusa asks to be able to wear Medea’s wedding dress to her own wedding). She punishes them all and finds herself back in the process. Even if she has to suffer excoriating pain in order to do so (killing her own sons) as long as the others suffer more than her and are punished according to their crimes she will not falter.

Medea is feminine rage at its peak, uncompromising and lethal. There is something extremely cathartic in this for me.

The story of Medea is also the story of a foreigner in an hostile land. It is less important than the woman part for me but still essential. And that is why I really like that in the french comic book by Le Called and Peña they do present her as significantly different from the Greeks women and significantly darker.

Not like any other:

Medea, like most of characters in myth, is related to gods. Circe is her aunt, so she is related to Hecate, which is unsurprising considering that she is a magician (a deeply feminine power in most greek myth). But she is also the granddaughter of Helios (actually all four of her grandparents are gods or close to be). But Medea isn’t just related to gods, she behaves like one.

Medea destroys not only Creon and his daughter but in some of the version she is responsible for the burning of the entire city. Exactly like an angry god who has been disrespected by members of a community and brought their anger on all the community (granted the citizens of Corinth did not like her but still).

But it is the punition that she reserve to Jason that strikes me as the most god-like. In ancient Greek myths gods often punishes humans or other gods who had wronged them with fates worse than death (like Prometheus or Lycaon of Arcadia). This is exactly what she does to Jason. She takes everything from him, everything, but she leaves him alive so he has to live through his punishment. He is left with nothing except maybe the shame of being Jason. Even in the Divine Comedy (written in the 14th century and not directly concerned with the Argonauts or Medea) Jason is placed in Hell for what he did to several women.

Medea is superior to nearly everyone else she runs into in her story and her actions in Corinth is a way for her to reclaim that.

A reasonable women:

Medea most famous deed might have been the killing of her sons in Corinth to annihilate Jason but even in this she keeps on being rational. She might fall prey to primal violence but she still plans and executes it with meticulousness.

After all apparently her name comes from the verbs μήδομαι / mêdomai which means to meditate, and might come from an earlier root meaning: understand/conceive.

Medea is victorious thanks to the power of her reason and cleverness. She doesn’t kill Pelias, she convinces his daughters to do so by tricking them into believing that they are going to make him young and healthy again. She gets the Golden Fleece. She gets the very dreadful idea of how to slow down her pursuing father’s fleet. Medea is not only powerful because she is a great magician. She is powerful because she is a smart, ruthless, dedicated woman.

In Corneille’s version, Pollux (an Argonaut whose role here is to be the confident of Jason) has this to say about Jason’s plan of marrying Creusa :

“Bien que de tous côtés l'affaire résolue

Ne laisse aucune place aux conseils d'un ami,

Je ne puis toutefois l'approuver qu'à demi.

Sur quoi que vous fondiez un traitement si rude,

C'est montrer pour Médée un peu d'ingratitude :

Ce qu'elle a fait pour vous est mal récompensé.

Il faut craindre après tout son courage offensé ;

Vous savez mieux que moi ce que peuvent ses charmes.”

Basically this replica starts with Pollux saying that he knows Jason isn’t going to listen to him but still what he is doing to Medea (repudiating and banishing her) is not cool. He finishes by “We need to fear her offended courage / You know better than me what her spells are capable of.” To which Jason answers something along the lines “no worries, her banishment should be enough to tame her”. To this Pollux retorts:

“Gardez d'avoir sujet de vous en repentir.”

Which roughly translates as “Be careful to not end up sorry about it.” Later in the play it seems that Medea has accepted her fate and she has given her wedding dress as a present to Creusa. Everyone thinks that everything is going great and this what Pollux as to say about this:

“J'eus toujours pour suspects les dons des ennemis :

Ils font assez souvent ce que n'ont pu leurs armes.

Je connais de Médée et l'esprit et les charmes,

Et veux bien m'exposer aux plus cruels trépas,

Si ce rare présent n'est un mortel appas.”

He starts by saying that gifts from enemies are always suspicious and dangerous and then say that since it is something from Medea he is ready to bet his life that it is a deadly trap (and by the way he is absolutely correct). This is how the verse from the middle of the replica translates:  “I know of Medea her spirit and her spells”. We can see that in this version, Pollux is deadly sure that Medea isn’t going to take that laying down and that she is going to be a formidable foe. But it is not only her magical ability that he recognises as dangerous (even if he insists a lot on it), it is her courage and her mind (reason).

Medea isn't cold, she burns bright, but she is still a calculating strategist whose magic is as dangerous as the way she uses her mind.

In the end, Medea embodies one of my favorite trope which is woman giving in to a justified burning anger more than ready to bear the consequences of said anger. She does so while acting and thinking like a god and being the best strategist in the room.

A god-like angry clever scorned woman? What is there not to love in her?

[wordswithkittywitch]

Barbie: A Fairy Secret

Well, it’s finally happening. I’ve lowered my standards enough to start posting my thoughts on Barbie movies. Well, my in-depth analysis so I can give all 37 (I’m counting both Barbie and the Rockers half-hour shorts as one movie. It was a continuing plot.) Barbie movies a rank based on my own arbitrary standards. And because it’s arbitrary, they are being scored out of 110 and I starting more or less randomly with the one I watched earlier this afternoon.

Barbie A Fairy Secret: Overall Score: 54/110 Why is it a score out of 110 instead of 100? Because Barbie gives 110%. Also because there are twelve categories, and only one of them is negative. Why is this score so low? Simply put, I’ve seen all the Barbie films and this isn’t the best one. I still enjoy it, and let’s find out why that is...

High points: 6/10      This is a genuinely funny movie, even if sometimes the jokes are so stupid you’re a little ashamed of laughing at them. Even if you’re watching as an adult, you have to accept this is fundamentally a kids’ movie and it’s going to be silly.      Now, of course there are some kids’ movies that don’t have this problem, and some of them are even in the Barbie series. But this is a film where Ken Matrix-dodges a puff of glitter.

     The architecture of Gloss Angeles and in particular the palace really steals the show; even if a lot of the floating platforms look like gold chocolate kisses hovering upside down. Beyond the gleaming gold and jewel-bright colours, we see a streaked pastel sky extending forever in all directions. Really. All directions. Raquelle asks how far away the ground is, and is quickly informed there is no ground.

Low points: -4/-10 The animation style wasn’t as polished as some of the later Barbie movies, and usually I can just ignore that, but it also lacked the pastel charm of some of the earlier ones. It was kind of in an awkward middle ground. The faces are a little stiffer than other films, and a lot of the emoting needs to be done with the body language.

And on a far more petty note, I don’t think that the name “Zane” sounds as much like a fairy as “Graciellla”. Or “Graylen”. Or even “Crystal”. “Taylor” is on about the same level of sounding like a fairy as “Zane” though.

WLW appeal: 6/10

I’m not saying that two women admitting that they both wanted to be closer but thought that the other one didn’t like them, hugging and then a rainbow of light transforms into fairies, shattering the cage they were in is necessarily lesbian subtext, but it’s really easy to read it that way. Especially since right after it happens Taylor says love is more powerful than a Passion Fairy’s anger.

However, Barbie and Raquelle’s moment of understanding each other pales in comparison to Taylor and Carrie’s relationship. The two are unquestionably close, never out of the other’s sight. However, the thing that made them read as most romantically involved to me wasn’t anything they did on screen: it was Princess Gracellia’s past history with them. When three people are close friends and two of them become so close they cut the third person out without realising they’ve upset them at all, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re dating, but any time I personally can say that I really lost a friend, it was a variation on that story. I’ve seen it in other people, and much to my disgust almost any time someone brings up that this is a problem, the blame falls on the “third wheel” for not realising that romantic love is obviously more important than any of their previous friendships, and suggesting that if they were emotionally mature they would just go off and fine someone to snog themselves, thus becoming a fully realised romantic being.

Okay, none of the romantic part of the last paragraph was textual, and I am definitely projecting at least a little bit; but this is a recurring theme across media, and it sucks, and I enjoy the fact I can avoid it. Yet another reason I have watched all the Barbie movies.

Ace Appeal:  4/10 I suppose this needs to be said at least once, and since this one is getting posted first, it’s a natural choice to get this disclaimer out of the way. No, I don’t think that anyone in Mattel offices ever stops and says, “Hang on. Does the plot of this children’s movie appeal to the sensibilities of adult asexuals?” However, I’m pretty sure there is some variation on “Not all kids like romance, and most parents want to keep the romance their kids see in media to be on the tame side, so we’ll have to pay attention to how much romance we put in and how it’s handled.” However, as an adult asexual, it is always freaking refreshing to have characters interested in something besides The Sex™, and the best place I have found to seek that is in children’s media.

In a movie aimed at adults, one would usually establish the main romantic couple with kissing, steamy stares, and other things that make your friends not want your partner hang out with the rest of the group. Or, in the case of The Airzone Solution, goosing your partner while she’s having a conversation with someone else, making her voice go up so high I finally recognise Nicola Bryant without her fake American accent. (by the way, if you’re looking for movies with asexual appeal, The Airzone Solution is not one of them.)

This is the face of a man who cannot unwatch The Airzone Solution.

Also, in a movie aimed at adults, no one can end in the same romantic relationship that they started in, which Barbie can avoid because the character of Ken cannot exist in a vacuum: Ken is Barbie’s boyfriend (the Barbie Vlogs/Dreamhouse Adventures timeline notwithstanding; especially given that there really is no question that in that particular timeline “Karbie is endgame” as the kids say.), all personality traits are related to this. If Ken appears in a Barbie movie, we know he already is Barbie’s boyfriend because Barbie is a wish fulfilment fantasy for young girls: As many rewarding careers as they like, a steady relationship with someone who adores them, a large group of friends, pretty much any material goods they can think of at their fingertips, and of course, magical powers. This, quite frankly, is why Barbie works as a woman somewhere in her twenties or thirties and why she doesn’t make as much sense when people try to age her down into a teenager. Seriously. That’s what Skipper is for. How can Barbie have a sixteen-year-old little sister if she herself is sixteen? It doesn’t make sense. But I’m getting off-topic.

This is a kids’ movie, so we establish that Ken and Barbie are dating by having them being adorable duelling with spoons over ice cream sundaes. And that’s why I’ve watched every Barbie movie ever made.

As I mentioned before, the subplot with Gracellia feeling cut out of Taylor and Carrie’s relationship feels very familiar to anyone whose friends distanced themselves for their all-important romance. And while this could happen to anyone, being dropped out of your alloromantic/allosexual friends’ lives when they discover dating is one of the most recognisable and most terrible parts of the asexual/aromantic experience. Does this mean that any of the characters present as asexual or aromantic? As usual, not necessarily. Gracellia clearly isn’t aromantic. But, also as usual, “I’ve been there! It sucks!” is a common step in headcanoning a character as ace. And even if they aren’t, it’s still relatable. We also see a happily married middle-aged couple, Reena and Graylen. Narratively, they exist to show that a marriage between a fairy and a human can work, but I could have seen way more of them being cute. But I like cute old married couples. Which may be weird for someone desperately looking for characters in any form of media who actually like their love interests and stay with them through the entire story instead of breaking up to add more drama. Anyone who has had their friends start dating knows that couples do not need to be breaking up to cause drama.

Graylen’s character design is almost exactly like the advisor in the Fairytopia series. You might not expect “older black fairy with gray muttonchops and friendly advice” to be a stock character in Barbie films, but there he is. Often, Barbie movies do not have a full mouth kiss in them. If there is, that is often because there’s a wedding ceremony. This is an example of the latter. The couple who isn’t married at the end, however, express their love by trying not to be married against their will. Still, no matter how relatable all of this is to an asexual, it does end in a very Midsummer Night’s Dream everyone paired off sort of way.

Entourage:  6/10

Raquelle- Those familiar with Life in the Dreamhouse already know Raquelle as Barbie’s self-proclaimed rival and a twisty bitch who lives for drama, making her one of the most enjoyable characters to watch. She has a different voice actress here, which can throw you a little. Especially if you’re trying to remember which My Little Pony voice actress has replaced her Life in the Dreamhouse voice actress.

Taylor- Ginger shoe fairy with a pink dress and a posh accent. Mostly responsible for the “tell Barbie the truth, go to Gloss Angeles, and rescue Ken” plan. 

Carrie- Brunette purse fairy with a purple dress. Probably the slower of the two. That said, even though she supplies much of the comic relief, it doesn’t stem from her being stupid, it stems from her never-emptying purse of visual gags. By the end, Carrie’s jokes have started to grate on Raquelle:

“I think this time I’ve got a home run!”

“Enough! It’s going to be a baseball bat, right?”

Art Style: 5/10 I’ll admit this isn’t my favourite era of Barbie movies as far as animation is concerned. The faces aren’t as emotive as some of the other styles of animation. Raquelle for one makes up for this with full-body sarcasm. The architecture in Gloss Angeles is really the highlight of the film’s visuals: with large amounts of sparkling crystal and gold curlicues putting one in mind of a jewellery box with it’s contents spilling out. Particularly in the fight scene between Ken and Zane, where they recreate the “Duel” bit from that 90s Gladiators show where the contenders sand on an elevated platform and hit each other with what appear to be large fancy cotton buds. The only difference is that the contenders have wings. The architecture is shown off nicely in the “welcome to Gloss Angeles” montage. Unlike films like a Mermaid Tale, they did not feel the need to put dozens of puns in this sequence, they just put wings on everything they could think of—dogs, cats, handbags, coffee cups, shopping bags…

Plot: 7/10 The plot takes place within the “Life in the Dreamhouse” continuity: Barbara Roberts is a highly successful celebrity who lives in Malibu with her three younger sisters, is dating her longtime boyfriend Kenneth Carson, and has a close group of friends, including Rochelle who openly hates all of them (barring Ken) but remains part of the social circle.

A jealous fairy named Crystal feeds Princess Graciella, ruler of the fairies, a love potion which makes he fall in love with Ken. Graciella kidnaps Ken and declares she will marry him that very day. Zane, Graciella’s previous boyfriend and also a fairy, challenges Ken to three successive duels as Ken tries to back out of this. Barbie and Rochelle, rival film stars, come to Ken’s rescue, aided by two fairies who have been living in the human world disguised as humans and working as Barbie’s personal stylists.

The whole thing feels a lot like Barbie does Comedia del Arte, which I love. A love square that is resolved with two couples at the end, a love potion, over the top comedic figures, a lovesick woman declaring she will marry someone she just met, the upper class characters being saved by the complex planning of their clever servants; if you accept personal stylists as the modern equivalent of a tiring maid.

Zane is probably the main reason I keep thinking Comedia del Arte when I’m watching this. And it’s not just that he has the same accent as el Captaino (a stock figure in Comedia del Arte. The foreign captain who is usually a comedic rival for the young lover). In his first scene, he challenges Ken to three successive duels: “So, you think I am not bold enough for two duels? For that, I challenge you to a third duel!” “Why not? I wasn’t doing anything after the second one anyway.”

I can’t help but think about how the plot would have been different if princess Graciella had drunk the love potion three seconds earlier and fallen in love with Rochelle instead of Ken. “I have to save my frienemy who has just graduated from pain in the ass to total bitch.” would have been a very different story to “I need to save my boyfriend.”  

The whole thing is a mess of consent and lack thereof. Crystal puts a spell on Graciella so she becomes obsessed with Ken, Graciella puts a spell on Ken so that a marriage proposal comes out of his mouth, much to his horror. And, if the whole “Comedia del Arte” thing hadn’t been running through my head the entire time, the fact that it pretty much starts and ends like A Midsummer Night’s Dream would have done it: Someone gives the queen of the fairies a love potion. She falls in love with the worst possible option. Humans get involved. The two romantic couples are sorted back into their ideal combination, the fairies convince the humans it was all really a dream. Even Carrie and Taylor reminding the audience of the secret at the end puts me in mind of Puck’s final speech.

The plot would have gotten a higher score if it hadn’t been for one plothole that seems to grow and shrink the more I examine it: Crystal was in love with Zane, but he was in love with Graciella. So she gets her hands on a love potion and uses it on… not Zane. I guess thought if he wasn’t in a relationship he would pick her on his own. Perhaps she wanted “real love” and was prepared to give her princess a chemically assisted version. We will never know.

Character design:  6/10

It’s not unusual for the cast to be wearing their best costumes in the final act of a Barbie film, but in this case this was achieved by putting most of them in fairly ugly outfits for most of the action.

The costuming was quite up to standards in the last fifteen minutes, but that leaves us with fifty seven minutes of unnecessary peplum to account for. 

Raquelle and Barbie appear in formal gowns for the red carpet premiere:

Raquelle wears a one-shoulder purple and blue gown with a lettuce edged wrap skirt with a high-low hem, simple blue teardrop earrings, and some excellent shoes.

As usual, Raquelle is quickly upstaged by Barbie, who wears a ruby pink bodice with a peplum hem over a bright violet mermaid skirt. These are accessorised with rhinestone rose jewellery and silver pumps, although the shoes are only revealed when Raquelle rips the back of her dress up to her thighs.

While these gowns only show up in the first scene, they are easily the best looks they wear in the film, which is understandable as they are the dresses worn by the dolls. The doll look sort of reappears at the start of the final act, where Barbie and Raquelle transform into their winged form from the dolls, which is the tops from their red carpet gowns on cocktail dresses.

Barbie’s rose peplum top melts much more pleasingly into the three flounces of her miniskirt, while Raquelle has a flounced A-line miniskirt with the slightest edge of silver and pink petticoats peeking out the bottom. A silver ruffle accents her neckline and compliments her wide silver belt. The looks are finished in both cases with those curling vine heels that Mattel was putting on all the fairy dolls in the early aughts. This is such a breath of good taste after their “normal” outfits from the main part of the film. 

After the premiere, the human characters really get the short end of the stick as far as costumes are concerned, and while I can see how it was important to make the humans visually distinct from the fairies, even when everyone is wearing “clip on” wings.

Raquelle spends most the movie in cobalt blue knee-length trumpet dress and a pink polka dot mini sweatshirt; which frankly should never have happened. The effect is completed with strappy silver heels which barely do not reach the end of leatherette black leggings. Sadly, the effect is “I dressed Barbie first and these are all the doll clothes I have left over”.

Barbie’s main look seems to be doing everything it can to keep a knee-length jean trumpet skirt with pink stitching from ruining the rest of the outfit. This is done with a pink and white striped tee and a half-sleeve black jacket. I don’t want to be too hard on this look, I’ll admit, because I can see my sister wearing something like that, but hopefully a more flattering cut of skirt.

But then again, I’ve always hated trumpet miniskirts; I hated them when they were in style, I hate  them now that they aren’t, and I hate the fact I owned two because that’s what was for sale at Walmart in the mid 2000s and I hadn’t taken to making most of my own clothing yet. I called them “crotch ruffle skirts”. I was a bitch in high school.

 Miss Roxelle appears very briefly in a tasteful white and gold two piece pencil skirt suit. As a fashion designer and the older fairy who they come to for help, it makes sense that she has a classy, mature vibe.  

For the wedding, Ken gets a fashion upgrade from “we put him in a plaid shirt to make him look more heterosexual” (which was kind of ruined by the teal and metallic gold palette) to “one of those really tacky heterosexual wedding toppers” for the wedding scene. The horror of someone tied up and being forced to marry someone they barely know is somewhat diminished by the image of groomsmen elbowing each other and chuckling, “As usual, am I right, men?” That said, matching the pattern on his lapels to the pattern on his wings was a nice touch.

Crystal takes the purple/green slightly alternative route in villain costume design: fingerless gloves, cropped vest, stripy skirt, asymmetrical bob, purple leggings and black ankle boots.

And interestingly, she is the only fairy who presents as a girl who has dragonfly wings. I’m not going to say that this means Crystal is transgender, but I am definitely going to be thinking about that for a while. Part of me thinks, “Sure, why not, that’s probably going to happen in fairy society as much as human”, and part of me thinks, “Usually it’s the heroes or sidekicks in Barbie movies that get queercoded.” So let’s just move past Crystal’s boyish wings.

I spend a lot of time Graciellla is on screen trying to figure out how her hair is accomplished. Like most Barbie characters, it looks physically possible so that it can be recreated on a doll. It looks as if two French braids were started on her head, then the loose hair was tucked under itself, a little bit like a rolled chingon.

It probably is related to the fact her standard outfit is pretty basic: a petal pink strapless cocktail dress with a rose pink sash. It’s accessorised with a mess of pink rhinestone jewellery to set off her tiara.

Zane starts off in a fantasy style purple vest and striped jeans in a desaturated purple palette: The gold trim and collar pushes it towards the high fantasy fairies were meant to be, but it appears that halfway down the design they realised that they wanted it to be reflective of modern fashion and gave him pinstriped jeans. Don’t get me wrong, I love purple pinstriped jeans, I own purple pinstripe jeans, but they don’t go with his top. High fantasy and mid-2000s fashion are hard looks to marry, and I’m objecting to this example. Now, I could have forgiven him for wearing knee-high boots and cuffing his trousers to show them off, if they weren’t striped jeans and black combat boots. He’s half pirate and a half “I just came from a Green Day concert”. And he tries so hard to make it work. Wearing the exact same outfit in white and gold to his wedding was a choice. Once of several stupid choices made by Zane over the course of this movie.

Zane goes full Star Trek Next Gen for his combat jumpsuit: And honestly, I kind of love it. The gold and cobalt blue set each other off beautifully, the wide gold stripes down Zane’s legs, the elegantly tooled golden breastplate, the spirals of gold coming up his boots to the wide gold edging.

We actually see the slits the back of Zane’s jacket when he gets on his knees to propose to Graciella, and all of the feminine fairies (except for Crystal, as mentioned before) are wearing tube tops and off-the shoulder dresses so that they can dress without damaging their wings. But it appears that his wings are emerging from narrow slits in the back of his vest. Which might account for why the masculine fairies have smaller, narrower wings; more like a dragonfly than a butterfly. And it might also account for why Crystal has dragonfly wings and a cropped vest.

Finally, we have Taylor and Carrie, who ride the line between fantasy fashion and human fashion by wearing some fairly simple, “this looks like a doll” dresses. They also look far more like a “set” than any other characters because while their outfits look different, they are comprised out of the same basic elements: A dress with a fitted satin bodice, capped sleeves, and a flounced circle skirt accessorised with a short bead necklace, simple earrings, a headband and a side ponytail. The only real difference between them is their magical focuses:

Carrie, being a purse fairy, has a glittery doctor-style handbag; so called because the frame opens out like an old doctor’s visiting bag, not because like the Tardis it is bigger on the inside. Though both are true. Taylor has magenta glitter peek-toe platforms with knee-high laces with wings on the heel and rosettes on the toe. Raquelle admits, “If I had to trust my life to one pair of shoes, it would be those.” as Taylor chirps: “The more fabulous my shoes, the stronger my magic!” Me too, buddy, me too.

Music:  3/10

There is really only the main theme, Can You Keep a Secret? which plays over the opening and closing credits. It’s peppy, it’s happy, it’s not so stupid you’re grating your teeth, but ultimately it’s pretty forgettable. It serves its purpose and allows the story to move on. It plays again during the “welcome to Gloss Angeles” montage.

Animal companion:  4/10 Halfway through the movie, Pegaponies show up and help the humans with their difficulty in flying with clip-on wings. The pegaponies show up, transport the main characters to the palace, and are never heard from again. They do not talk or exhibit greater than animal intelligence, but however they do greatly advance the Rochelle and Barbie friendship plot by allowing the two of them to discuss how their relationship, and their animosity, formed. All pegaponies are recolours of the same mesh: a stocky, small horse with a striped mane and sparkly lace-like wings. The heroes all ride sidesaddle, partially because they’re all in dresses and partially because they all have wings themselves. While I usually subscribe to the less-is-more approach to pets in Barbie movies, in this case more might have been more.

Antagonists:  7/10 Zane- Since Barbie has Raquelle, it only makes sense that Ken gets someone who declares himself his rival as Ken protests that they aren’t actually pursuing the same goal. And like Raquelle, Zane is over the top and hilarious. He’s probably my favourite part of the movie. Graciellla – Crown Princess of Gloss Angeles, because “queen” sounds evil unless you’ve got a kid. While she isn’t exactly a bad person, she spends most of the film trying to force someone who isn’t in love with her to marry her. Actually, that is in fact pretty bad, but it is slightly mitigated by the fact she’s under a love spell. Remember kids, love spells aren’t consent! She spreads the awful cycle of “fairies don’t need no consent” by magicing a proposal out of Ken’s mouth inbetween his protestations to let him go. So, even though she changes her plan as soon as she’s not under a spell, she still has the whole “I’m an immoral fairy who really doesn’t care how much I mess up human lives” thing going on, which I also enjoy. Kids have to learn to fear the fey sooner or later. Crystal- From her arm-warmers to her stripes, here’s the soft grunge girl here to punish the preps for existing. Well, to punish everyone around her for the sorry state of her love life. Unrequited love stinks. Of course, what makes her a villain instead a tragic hero is that she is perfect content to ruin as many lives as it takes to get what she wants. Again, fairies tend to be amoral. Raquelle- Only an antagonist in that she remains Barbie’s self-proclaimed rival, and pain in the rear, even as she joins her quest to save Ken. To be fair, at no point does Raquelle stop thinking of herself as Ken’s friend. Partnering with a rival to save a mutual friend is probably Raquelle’s most antihero moment across all media she appears in. So while there’s a lot of antagonists, ranging from rivals to villains to “manic force of nature” I would have a difficult time saying, “You know what movie has some great antagonists? A Fairy Secret.” Although it definitely gets points for variety.

Doll Tie-in:  4/10

Comparing the doll commercial to the movie, I get the feeling that the people making the commercial hadn’t been given the plot to the movie before writing the script for the advertisement.

Personally, as someone who just genuinely likes dolls, I don’t like the moulded on bodices, since they limit the number of dresses you can put over them. I get the idea that the moulded on swimsuits are to give the dolls some vestige of dignity when the girls are leaving them undressed.

As for “transforming dresses”, the Fairy Secret dolls all have variations on the “skirt folds out into wings” gimmick.

This was also the period where the doll designers decided that plastic moulded curlicue laces going all up a doll’s shins said “fairy fashion”, and that, I’ll admit, I like.

At least the faces have better moulds than the characters in the films.

[edyacouky]

DC Comics JayRoy Wedding (3/6)

(Can be read on AO3)

Some day after Dick and Kory’s wedding, Jason got an intervention.

Lying about a job, his family and friends make him seat on living room and don’t let him go until Jason really heard that he was deeply loved.

Jason tried crack some joke or making excuse to go when thing were going embarrassing, but despite his best effort he finish by crying in front of everyone.

“That’s ok Jaybird. Roy said while hugging him

-We’re here. Alfred said taking his hand. Everything will be fine.”

Fuck! Jason feeling so miserable and ashamed. Why everyone is here making him cry? Like hell he want cry before Baby Brat or Batman!

For the first time since a long time, he feels hope, that maybe he is not alone after all.

From now on, at least one person take five minute per week to talk with him, drink a coffee or anything else that wasn’t related to his work.

Jason prefers the visit of Alfred and Roy.

Alfred always makes wonderful tea, talking about literature, theatre and they cook together.

Roy proposes him some solution, like a psychologist Batmanproof, but most of the time he just listen when Jason needed to talk and rambling when Jason doesn’t want.

They didn’t restart a romantic relationship neither a sexual one.

They never talk about that, their feelings or what they want. They still love each other deeply but they were so afraid about loose this little peace they succeed to gain. What if they try and everything they win is despair and loneliness?

So they keep what they feel for themself. For the misfortune of those around them.

                                                       ~*~

This status quo stays like that for almost two years. Then suddenly, one night, Jade reappears in Roy’s life. With a little girl. With their daughter.

This night Roy learns that he has a three years old daughter Lian. When Jade discovers her pregnancy, she decided keep the baby without telling with Roy, not wants him in her life. She succeed raise Lian till now but her job become more dangerous every day and her enemies will be more than happy use Lian against her. She came to Roy because she can’t protect Lian alone anymore.

“Are you for real? Roy exclaimed almost making Lian cry. You have my child for almost three years. You never tell a word to me, despite our short encounters. Now you want give her to me to kill some people and when you will finish it you will take her back.”

Jade hugs Lian harder with a sad face.

“I know now I can’t have her back. You will ever be a part of her life now and you have friend to make sure of that. If I try, Lian and I will be fugitive for the rest of our life.

-The rest of your life.

-Will you help me or not?

-I will help Lian. No way I let her die, especially by your fault.”

Then Jade disappears as suddenly as she appears. Letting Roy and Lian alone.

Totally alone.

Without any clue how take care of a kid!

What Roy is supposed to do?

Lian, in his arms, start cry and Roy freak out.

What is he supposed to do now?

One hour later, more or less, Jason enters in Roy apartment with take out.

“Sorry I’m late. But I meet Bruce, and since he goes to the psy too, he is … well … I pass you the detail …”

He stops and didn’t know how to react when he see Roy crying in his living room, with a kid in his arms crying too.

“Ok but you, you have to give me details here. What’s going on? Did … did you kidnap a kid?

-Jay … Jay … help … I am freaking out …

-Yeah. I can see that. You should stop cry if you want this kid be calm.

-I can’t!

-Ok so give them to me. I will hold them till you calm down, ok?

-Her. She is Lian.

-Ok. Can you let me hold Lian?”

Roy hesitated. Not because he doesn’t trust Jason, but because it feels wrong. It isn’t the same thing as abandon her? Is he already a terrible father?

“Roy, you need to calm down.”

Slowly Jason take Lian in his arms like he was afraid Roy could attack him in any moment. When she is secure against him, he looks seeing if she is hurt or ill. Fortunately, it seems she is fine, even clean, but she still crying and put her tiny hand in her mouth.

“When did she eat last time?

-Oh God! I don’t know  I should know this kind of things!”

Right. Roy was useless for now.

“Look, I am going find something to eat for her and you, breath, ok?

-Yeah … Breath … Ok …”

Jason didn’t have search too long, in a bag he didn’t know was food for little kid. They all seat in the kitchen. Jason feed Lian while Roy eaten to calm down.

“Are you feeling better? Ask Jason after a moment

-Yeah … sorry for that.

-Don’t need to apologies. But I need information here.

-You’re right.”

Roy takes a deep breath and tells Jason what happen before he came. Jade, Lian being his daughter he didn’t know about and now he have to take care.

“Understand you panic like this. Jason finally said. Not sure I could stay cool if something like this happen to me.

-Don't believe you. Look at you. She is calm in your arms and you knew she was hungry. I am the worst.

-Ok ... no, it is not true. I just had to take care of some kind when I lived with my mom. You will see tomorrow you will be calmer and an excellent father. Don't worry.”

                                                      ~*~

Jason was wrong. Tomorrow, Roy was as panicked as yesterday.

He can't help himself but search every five minute how parenting on internet and answer he find stressed him more than anything else. He was also worried by Lian's silence. He was pretty sure he heard his little girl talk to her mom. And she didn't seem crying the loss of her mother. Maybe she didn't trust Roy enough for that. He didn't blame her. He didn't really trust himself after all.

Fortunately, Jason stay with them without a world needed. By being here, he helped Roy learned being a father and he seems understand quite well how Lian must feel with all the change of situation.

Slowly but surely, Lian open up and start talking without anyone can stop her. She even starts to really like her daddy and Jay-Jay.

“She called me Daddy. Roy cried to Jason after Lian was asleep

-I told you, you will be a good father.

-And you are a good friend. Roy smiled

-And the cool uncle I hope.

-Cool uncle will not make sure she eats all her vegetable.” Roy thinks but said nothing

Neither of them discuss about what happen between them. Too afraid of how thinks could go after THE discussion.

They are not in a sexual relationship. Roy doesn’t think they are in romantic one either, despite what everyone tells him.

If they start live together it is because it is more practical.

Roy need help to take care of Lian and keep doing his vigilante stuff.

If they sleep in the same bed it is because Jason will not still sleep on the couch forever and they don't have time find a house bigger. Their job and Lian keep them busy enough.

If only people could stop assuming things and keep their noses out of their business.

                                                      ~*~

When the invitation for Kate Kane and Renee Montoya’s wedding arrives at their home, they blushing. They send one invitation for three of them. The way they write like Roy was Jason’s husband and Lian his daughter.

“Dear Jason and Roy Harper and their daughter Lian,

Katherine Kane and Renee Montoya invite you to join them celebrating their weeding their marriage on …”

Fuck they could not look at each other's eyes so much they were puzzled.

“A wedding! Lian exclaim ecstatic. I will wear a princess’s dress, right?

-I don’t know Pumpkin. Roy kidding. Do you have a princess’s dress?”

Lian’s eyes widened comically as she gaps. Without a word, she goes see what kind dress she has.

Roy and Jason laugh. Jason put the invitation on their fridge.

“I suppose I will tell them we come.

-Unless you want disappointed Lian.

-I woulndn’t dare.”

Jason slowly passed the tip of his finger under the phrase “Jason and Roy Harper and their daughter Lian” with a smile. It is stupid how happy it makes him. He hopes Roy doesn’t see him do it. But he does.

Roy looks at him with a fond look. But before they can say anything, Lian yells:

“Daddy! Daddy!

-I am coming Pumpkin. What’s going on?

-I don’t have any princess’s dress! Lian said sitting on the floor surrounded by the half dozen dresses that had been offered to Lian

-Are you sure about that? It seems like you have one or two.

-No Daddy! They aren’t good for a weeding!

-It is that so.”

Lian nods with wet eyes. Some weeks ago, Roy would panic but now he recognize when she tries making him whatever she wants.

“I hope you realize that capricious girls not the right to new dresses.

-I am not capricious. Lian affirm with a pout

-Is that so?

-Promise.

-Look, here the deal. If you stay the little angel you can be, then when Jason and I will go buy our costume, we will see to buy you a dress, ok?”

Lian sighs loudly as she collapses on the floor.

“Do we have a deal?

-Yeah. She groans unhappy

-Ok, start by putting away your dresses, please.

-Ok.”

As if she were the most unhappy girl, she began to put them away. She kept staring at her father with a depressed look.

“Thank you.” Roy just said before coming back to the living room

Jason was reading on the couch and asks when Roy seat beside him:

“Do we have to buy a new dress?

-Only if she well behaved.

-There is progress. Jason mocks him

-Like half she has is not a gift from you.

-Never say I was better.”

They laugh together and Roy can’t help himself but think that it would be just perfect if he could kiss him.

                                                      ~*~

The weeding day, Lian was so proud and joyful in her new green dress that cost much more than a simple disguise. Roy and Jason know they can’t keep doing that and swear it was the last time. They will stop spoil Lian as much after this day.

“Miss Lian, Alfred said when seeing her, I am afraid I can’t let you come.

-What? Why? Lian panic

-You are too beautiful in your dress, you will shade the brides.”

Lian smiles so wildly that she must hurt her cheeks.

“What do we say, Lian?

-Thank you!

-You’re welcome. Misters, you are very elegant. New costume?

-Thank you Alfie.

-Yeah, last one were damaging in a last job at Roma.

-Roma? That it's romantic.”

Roy and Jason blush furiously at that but before they can defend themselves, Lian was compliment by more family member.

Luckily, there weren’t more jokes about their relationship. The discussion was about everyone’s dress, some news and the wedding.

They were starting to sit down when Kate's father approached Jason and Roy.

“Sorry to bother you but Renee’s little cousin who was to be the carrier alliance is sick. Can Lian replace her?

-Well, I don’t know. Roy said. Lian, do you want do it?

-I have walk in front of everybody?

-Yes.

-I do it! I do it!”

Happily, Lian takes Jacob’s hand and follows him without a look to Roy and Jason.

“I hope she will be sadder when she will go to college.” Roy said making Jason laugh

The ceremony was long but beautiful and seeing their little girl so happy makes everything better. And it was so funny the way she commands Bruce, Kate’s best man, to carry her when she was tired of standing but did not want to leave "the front of the stage", and the way he obeying her.

Sometimes Jason forgets how good Bruce is with kids. It is nice have a reminder.

                                                      ~*~

In front of the synagogue, while they wait to Kate and Renee, newly married, to go out, Jason try take back Lian to Bruce.

“It is ok. Bruce said. She doesn’t bother me.”

The way Selina smiles make Jason feel like he doesn’t have an important information.

“Let him be. Roy said and this smile Jason know what it means

-You realize there is no way I will catch the bouquet this time?

-Why not? Never twice without thrice. And there are two bouquets.

-You seem eager he catches the bouquet. Dick said. Something you want to say?”

Applause succeeds Kate and Renee arrives and they didn’t answer.

Jason cross his arms and look pointy Roy, like to affirm it will not happen this time. Roy still smile at him while filming him with his phone.

“Roy, you’re being ridicu …!”

God damn his reflex, he catches one of the bouquet without difficulty just by seeing it by the corner of the eye.

“Oh come on!”

At the same moment, Stephanie exclaims with glee when she catches the second bouquet.

“Well Bruce, Selina said amused, it seems like one way or another you will have a wedding to pay soon.

-It would not bother me.” Bruce assured with a smile looking at Jason and Stephanie

Stephanie seems embarrassed even if she seems deeply pleased hear that. Jason smile but he doesn’t believe he will marry one day.

                                                      ~*~

The reception was grandiose and everyone has a good time. Jason too, especially when he compare to the last reception he goes.

Lian stay bravely up until nine pm. She wanted still dancing with Cass but she yawn more and more.

“Tired. Cass said to her

-No I am not. Lian retort but her eyes were closing more and more

-Yes.

-Maybe a little.” Lian finally admit when she can’t stop yawn

Cass takes Lian by the hand and guide her to Jason who was the closer.

“Are you tired, Princess? He asks her taking her in his arms

-Papa.” Lian whimper pitifully

Everybody freeze around them. Everybody, less Jason, chuckles and laughs.

“What? Lian ask worry she did something bad

-Nothing sweetheart. Jason said his face furiously red. I will put you in bed, ok?

-Ok … But I am not tired …

-Sure things.”

Jason ignores question about when Roy and him will get marry and go to the children’s room.

After put her down to bed, he is not surprise seeing he is not alone. He will just prefer it will be Roy and not Dick.

“So, Dick said when the door was closed, are you sure you have nothing to tell us?

-I don’t know. Have you nothing to tell us? I hope you realize we can see that Kory doesn’t drink a drop of alcohol.”

Dick blush at that.

“It has been only a few weeks we know, and we don’t know if the pregnancy will end well so …

-Yeah, I understand. I will keep my mouth shut up.

-Thanks. You, on the other hand, it has been for two years. What the hell are you waiting for?

-Look, if we have something to tell you, we will tell you, ok?

-Fine. Dick groans. You are insupportable both of you.

-Dick, Jason call him as his big brother coming back to their family, I hope you realize that Selina didn’t drink a drop of alcohol.

-What? No. You kidding me, right? Wait. No. Damian will not be happy about that.

-Who know? Bruce and you give him two futures Robin for when he will be Batman, after all.”

The two brother laugh quietly before coming back to the main room.

Roy comes to them.

“Lian is alright? Roy asks

-Yeah. She was just tired.

-Why Tim tells me go see you as soon as possible?”

In his table, Tim raises his glass to them with a large smile.

“I'll leave you to it. Dick sings song

-Something is wrong? Roy asks when they were alone

-No. Nothing is wrong. It is just … Well … Lian call me Papa.

-Oh.

-Yeah.”

They stay silent a long moment, before Roy anxious asks:

“Did it bother you?

-Not at all.

-Really?

-Yeah. I would like officially live with both of you, being her parent, being your …

-I would like being your boyfriend too.

-Yeah?

-Yeah.”

Despite their past, they kiss timidly, clumsily. Almost like that was their first time.

“Finally!” They heard someone yells before a thunder of applause.

Fuck, their family and friend are too embarrassing.

[brucebannerblr]

Back to the '50s

@akariownsyasuke requested something 50s style so there it is! It ended up longer than expected.

Or: Time Travel AU but everything is good and nothing hurts.

--------------------------------------------------

"This is such a bad idea."

"It's going to work, Tony."

Bruce sounded a little bit in awe and probably too eager.

"I know and that's what worries me, Brucie. This is… this is going to work and I've seen enough movies to know there's no way this is a good idea."

Bruce nodded.

"So we are doing it?"

"Hell yes, we are."

***

"Did you have to dress me like this, Tony?"

Tony grinned, his eyes trailing the way the black slacks looked on Bruce, the flattering cut of the purple cardigan, the skin showing under the last, undone button of palest green shirt.

"Yes,because one - we need to blend in..." Tony himself was wearing a deep gray suit with blue shirt and a fedora. "...and two - free eye candy for me."

"And the reason for the purple and green?"

"That's just me being me."

Tony smirked but there was no heat behind Bruce's eyeroll and they both had to remind themselves not to lean in for a quick kiss.

"So what do we do?"

Tony was looking around, half in awe and half in anxious habit. Bruce could see going to see Roman Holidays in cinema or buying first editions of famous comics was not on his mind.

And while Bruce would drag him to get the comics at least, he knew there was a reason they were besides scientific curiosity for Tony.

Bruce just wanted to see if it worked and while some parts of him wished there were things he could change, he knew better, but Tony... Tony didn't choose the date randomly.

"I... There's someone I want to see. I know, Brucie, I know it's dangerous but I just."

Tony looked down, biting his lip in shy nervousness that was unusual to him.

"It's okay, Tony. Let's do this. We might have already messed up, and if we make it worse... Well, we can always go back to fix it, right?"

And Tony laughed, joyful and relieved and eyes sparkling with that bright energy that made Bruce fall for him in the first place.

Well, guess they were going on an adventure.

***

"This was your home growing up?"

Bruce looked at the huge mansion with trepidation, unsure how to really feel. He had known about Stark Mansion but had never really been there because Tony never really wanted to come back.

"Yeah." There was a strange emotion in his voice thay Bruce couldn't place.

"Looks big."

"And empty. Come on, I know how to get it. Howard's not here anyway, he's travelling around Europe for three years." Tony smiled at Bruce and it was surprisingly sincere smile. "He'll meet Maria Carbonell there."

They walked through the huge driveway and strolled down the pathways around the building, Bruce admiring the garden. Behind the mansion, the garden opened into an enormous, stunning park, and a recreational lawn with a few chairs put around.

In one of them, a woman with all too familiar face was reclining, dress blood red like her lips and eyes covered with a big hat.

Tony suddenly stopped, freezing in place as if she wasn't who he was expecting. Bruce already pieced down enough to know that she wasn't.

They were brought out of their reverie by a man coming out of the mansion, tensing the moment he saw the intruders.

"Who are you?"

He asked sharply, putting the tray with the drinks down on the table, waking up the woman who barely caught herself before discarding the hat and looking at them.

She eyed Tony, who was still frozen, with suspicion and curiosity. Bruce knew exactly why.

"Miss Carter, Mister Jarvis. We would very much appreciate it if you didn't call the police, this is a friendly visit. My name is Bruce Banner, and this is..."

He turned to Tony who caught his gaze for a moment, questioning, anxious and with that glint in his eye that always appeared when he was about to do something stupid.

"...Tony Stark. Son of Howard and Maria Stark. Where's Ana, Edwin?"

Jarvis blinked, put off by the introduction but Peggy was already on her feet.

"Oh really? And what proof do you have? Am I supposed to just believe in time travel?"

***

Tony blinked, feeling a bit like a little boy again, scorned by his aunt for doing something bad. He looked to Bruce for help with wide eyes but was met with an unsympathetic shrug.

"I didn't think it through."

"Do you ever though?"

Tony glared at Bruce for the murmured words but Peggy just raised one elegant eyebrow.

"That is an arguement for you probably being related to Howard."

"Really?" Tony threw his hands in the air? "Et tu, Aunt? And I don't have a proof, okay, but you get proof later? Like when Howard comes back in a few months? He'll have a woman with him, Maria Carbonell. She'll become my mother. You're Peggy Carter, my aunt and director of SHIELD, hey, that's proof isn't it, I know about SHIELD-- Wait, no, that's probably not making you less suspicious, but hey, oh, you had a thing with Captain America! People don't know that one, right? You two had a date but then he dived down and... Foundue, rings a bell? I'm not sure what it means but Steve always smirks when he says it?"

Peggy was looking at him with murderous, calculated gaze, while Jarvis seemed confused, and ended up sitting down, probably not dealing with the situation very well.

"How can you know that?"

"Yeah, that's the thing, can we sit down, Brucie, why didn't you stop me from blurting out the wrong thing, I knew I'm going to fuck this up, Edwin? Edwin, are you alright? Is he breathing? I don't want him to die from heart attack before I even created my first fire in the mansion, I came here to see him, you just surprised me, aunt Peggy!"

Bruce watched in amusement as Peggy poured her glass of water on Jarvis, which seemed to wake him up, and motioned for them to sit. Bruce took his place next to her, leaving Tony to his reunion with the man who essentially raised him, who seemed inclined to believe he was Stark offspring after setting things on fire was mentioned.

"So..." Peggy turned to him, suddenly less lethal and more unsure, which was a strange look on a national icon. "... Steve survived?"

"It's complicated. He did and Howard's search isn't entirely futile, but Miss Carter..."

"Peggy, please."

Her smile was sad but she seemed relieved.

"...you need to let him be found in his own time. He's going to be needed one day. And you'll have a chance to see each other again yet, even if your happiness doesn't lie with each other."

"So he will be happy?"

She smiled and Bruce couldn't help but feel in awe at her very person.

"He will. And you will be too. We all will be, eventually."

He looked at Tony with an unmistakably sappy look, and Peggy caught it, but didn't say anything.

***

"Time to go."

"Take care of yourself, Tony. I can't wait to meet you properly."

Tony smiled, giving Peggy one last hug before turning to look at his boyfriend. Bruce was already setting up the time machine, Jarvis by his side, fascinated by the technology.

"He's more than a friend, isn't he?"

Peggy's gaze was knowing and Tony shook his head before nodding, wondering how she could always see through him so well.

"So it's okay? One day?"

She looked hopeful and Tony gave her a sad smile.

"Took a while, but you could say it."

He took a ring that he's been caring for months now from his pocket and showed it to her.

Her smile was genuine and radiant.

"I hope you'll be very happy together, honey."

He hugged her and went back to his life, his life with Bruce, and he smiled, because finally, he felt like he believed that she was right.

***

They landed on the workshop floor, breathing hard and clutching onto each other, suddenly assaulted by a flood of memories.

Tony closed his eyes tightly, trying to process suddenly having a different life, barely registering Bruce sobbing into his chest.

They changed things.

They did, just like he feared but oh God...

Tony didn't expect that.

***

"You ready?"

Bruce shook his head but still stepped into the building.

"I know everyone and everything confirmed it but I still feel like it can't be real."

"Well, only one way to find out, right?"

Tony knocked on the door and heard a soft voice invite him in. He stepped in, following the voice into the living room, and stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight.

He tugged Bruce close, seeing the way his boyfriend was tearing up.

This was different for him.

When they left, Rebecca Banner was dead.

When they arrived, Bruce remembered a beautiful, kind woman who came to their house when he was little and took Brian away. Remembered his mother and Peggy getting closer, getting together, and most importantly, that she was still alive.

"Brucie? Honey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Peggy smiled knowingly at Tony as Bruce went to hug her. He perched himself on the armrest of the chair Peggy was in, ever thankful for her presence in his life.

"So, Tony..." She nudged him in the side. "What about that ring? Your old women would very much like to be at your wedding."

Tony just smiled at her, looking back at Bruce who was talking with his mother.

"Not much longer."

Prompts are open! Send an ask!

[thecinephale]

Super Girl: The Effort to Look Female

Harrisonburg is not rural Virginia. It’s a city. It inhabits over 50,000 people, includes James Madison University, and has gone Democrat every presidential election since 2008. Still, I spent the last few weeks with my stomach in knots, working out a strategy for my weekend there. While the wedding I was attending was right on the JMU campus, our Airbnb was deeper into Rockingham County, my girlfriend’s grandma lives in Stuart’s Draft, and we had to drive through all sorts of places to get there and back from Brooklyn. 

And as my friend Kelly said, “It’s a college town, sure, but there IS a Cracker Barrel.”

***

Next week marks my one year on hormones. Some trans people call this a second birthday, but for me that date is too nebulous. Do I claim the doctor’s appointment that acted as a first consultation? Or the first time I let a green oval of estrogen slowly dissolve under my tongue? Maybe it’s a month further when my bloodwork came back normal and I began taking a proper dosage?  

I prefer to think of transitioning as a process with many beginnings. If I had to pick a date, it would be May 12, 2017, when I fully came out to myself. But even this erases the person I was at 16 who dressed in drag for the first time. 

A year on hormones doesn’t feel like a landmark. It feels like I’m running out of time. Everyone is different, but I know generally there’s a timeline of when changes occur and when they stop. Some people claim it’s a four year process, but most people see the majority of changes in the first two years. I’m halfway there.

***

Sunday night the first trans superhero appeared in mainstream media. Nicole Maines portrayed the character of Nia Nal on The CW’s Supergirl in its fourth season premiere. Like hormone birthdays, this monumental event can’t be reduced to a single day. Nia isn’t a superhero yet, for now just a reporter working under Kara/Supergirl. And her transness has not been discussed. Both are known because they were announced at Comic Con back in July. The first trans superhero in mainstream media, played by a trans actress. 

Nicole Maines knew she was trans when she was 3 years old. By the time she was able to vote, Maines had successfully sued her school district, ensuring basic human rights for all transgender students in her home state of Maine. The CW’s marketing team has played up the “real life hero plays on-screen hero” angle and they’re not wrong. 

I knew I was trans 20 years later in my life, after I’d finished my first puberty and voted in two presidential elections. Maines and I have drastically different experiences of transness, and yet I spent the last several months watching 65 episodes of Supergirl (plus crossovers!) to prepare for her debut this week. Sure, most trans women don’t look like Nicole Maines. Most cis women don’t look like Melissa Benoist. This is how this works.

***

Once I decided to go on this trip to Virginia, I also had to decide how I was going to present. I’ve been, as they say, full-time since February. Some days I just wear jeans and a t-shirt, like most women, but it’s been a long time since I’ve actively pretended to be a man. It always made me feel awful and as my breasts grew (now at a C cup!) it became more and more difficult. My girlfriend’s extended family knew she was dating a woman, but didn’t know I was trans. I felt up to the challenge. This weekend I was just a woman. Period.

It’s been my experience that the most mindlessly validating individuals are those I’d least expect: catcallers and the elderly. My guess is they have limited knowledge of transness and classically feminine signifiers like a skirt or long hair makes their animal brain think woman. Of course, if they notice their “mistake” the catcallers will be especially cruel. Still, these experiences factored into my expectation that a high femme presentation would get me through this weekend. 

I have no idea what I look like. I’m not sure I ever will. Intellectually I know my face has feminized, but I don’t know how much. I don’t know why sometimes I get correctly gendered, but mostly not. I don’t know if people are just humoring me or saying what they’re supposed to or being kind when they say “Miss.”

I appreciate this effort, but it’s not what I want. I want to look in the mirror and see a woman, I want the people in my life to look at me and see a woman, and I want strangers to look at me and see a woman.

In Virginia, nobody saw a woman.

***

The most trans-related scene in Nicole Maines’ first episode didn’t feature her at all. Martian J’onn J’onzz (David Harewood), recently retired, has joined an alien support group. While Supergirl has previously leaned hard on the alien as immigrant analogy, this scene isn’t the first time the show has equated alien status with queerness. Season two introduced an underground alien bar that was obviously meant to evoke the historic haven of the gay bar.  

An alien that looks human begins by saying he’s at the group to share his happiness. “For the first time since I’ve been on this planet I feel like I fit in,” he says with a smile. “And it’s because of this.” He taps a device on the side of his head that reveals his true alien form, before switching back to the human veneer. 

An older alien who looks human but has pointed ears and tusks on his forearms pushes back. “Who decides what’s normal? Why should we have to wear these devices that change our appearance so we can be tolerated?”

The first alien responds with the obvious: “Well, that’s easy for you to say. You just look like a Tolkien fan.”

***

Whether we want to look cis and whether we have the ability to look cis is certain to be a heated topic between trans people, because it’s often a heated topic within ourselves. Everyone is taking stock of what they have and what they want. And sometimes it’s impossible to distinguish what we truly need to feel okay and what society tells us we need. I identify as a binary trans woman, not because I believe in the gender binary, but because I’m close enough that I can live (for now) with that conformity. The more gender non-conforming you naturally are and the more gender non-conforming you desire to be the more external pressure you’ll receive.

I’m 5’5 and 110 pounds and within my first three months on hormones I’d developed breasts. These are my natural privileges. My body hair, facial hair, and Adam’s apple are my negatives. The curly hair on my head and my masculine but not that masculine face are up for debate. Every week I get an hour of electrolysis done on my face, which is the process of hot needles and tweezers manually killing every hair follicle. It’s more painful than it sounds. I’m one year into this process and have at least another year left. It costs $75 per session and my ability to afford that at all is another privilege, while the huge chunk of my income that takes up is another negative.

My facial hair is my biggest insecurity and whenever I get misgendered I assume that’s the reason. My mom regularly insists it’s my Adam’s apple and if I would just get that surgically reduced I’d be able to “pass.” The truth is probably more complex. A mix between stubble, the Adam’s apple, and the small characteristics that are targeted in a comprehensive surgical process known as Facial Feminization Surgery. 

I’ve never wanted FFS. I can’t even decide if I want the Adam’s apple surgery. Going on hormones was such an easy, obvious choice for me, but these surgeries can feel like a betrayal of my transness. I don’t want to look cis. But I do want to look like a woman. I’ve started to worry that for the rest of the world those will always be the same thing.

Due to my size I thought I would be like the alien who looks pretty normal but just has tusks on his arms. I could proudly be like, “Look at my tusks/Adam’s apple! I’m an alien/trans. Deal with it.” Maybe I’m really the other alien, whose life is consumed by their alien status unless they change themselves. Or maybe we’re all both aliens and the support group is our minds. Two sides debating, one that looks in the mirror and sees a woman with some unique qualities, another that looks in the mirror and sees a man who needs to change.

***

I wasn’t misgendered until halfway through the wedding reception. I certainly got stares, but it was unclear whether those were lesbian couple stares or transgender stares. I chose to think lesbian couple. Last week my electrologist worked under my jaw so I could wear a full face of makeup. I wore a blue and white Kate Spade dress that was conservative yet flattering. I had on heels and my hair was up. It was the most femme I’ve ever looked. If a random catcaller correctly gendered me the week before when I was wearing a sweatshirt and no makeup, then surely my gender had registered now.

Again, the goal is not that no one knows I’m trans. The goal is for people, without thinking, to say “she.” If afterwards they go “Hmm is this one of those transgendereds I’ve read about?” then fine. But I want to win over the gut instinct. I know this is wrong. Our identities shouldn’t require any external validation. But they do. 

Once I began interacting with people and there was cause to gender me, I did about 50/50. But even when correct there was a pause. I suddenly felt very foolish. This idea I had that I was my harshest critic, that the man I saw in the mirror would look like a woman to these Virginians, was painfully misguided. I look how I look. It will continue to change gradually as I continue hormones and electrolysis, and this may or may not change how others perceive me. I can then choose to alter my appearance further with surgeries or, simply, accept the way I look.

***

“There’s nothing slight about fashion,” Nia says pitching a story. “It’s one of the most visceral forms of art. What we choose to wear tells a story about who we are.” A trans woman believing in the power of presentation is not exactly groundbreaking. But the show has always been filled with clichés that work because they’re true. 

What struck me most watching Maines’ debut was the immediate fondness I had for her. This, of course, has as much to do with talent and charisma as it does transness. Maines injects Nia with an immediate likability, an awkwardness that recalls season one Kara, but with an added vulnerability. I’d framed this character as a necessary first step. Sure, she looks like Nicole Maines… still a trans superhero! But watching her on screen I became very aware that I don’t know Nicole’s insecurities and I don’t know Nia’s. I don’t know anybody’s experience of transness except my own. I don’t even know what gender is or what it means to be trans. Nobody does. We may craft personal narratives to decipher our wants and needs. Cis society may craft narratives to understand, or, more commonly, to erase. But we don’t know. I don’t know why sometimes I look one way to some people and a different way to other people. I don’t know why I have some insecurities and not others. I don’t know why some clothes feel good. Or why some do not.

What I do know is that it felt good to see Nicole Maines on screen. I know that when Kara looked at her and said, “Oh my God. You’re me,” I thought, no. She’s me.

[sweettoothshipperrotg]

okay I know I said last one but,,,,,, i couldn’t help myself- SO how about Superhero AU? With FrostedNature? (loveuthankubye)

Oh you and your promises of not sending more prompts. LIKE.YOU.COULD.HOLD.OUT (don’t you worry baby it’s fine, your prompts always make me happy :3)

Sorry this took so long, but I’ve finlly completed it.

Based on: ‘You’re my arch nemesis but our best friends are dating…I guess I’ll play nice in civvies, for now’ AU

Hope you enjoy!

SECRET IDENTITITES, MY FOOT

Jackson Overland Frost couldn’t believe his eyes when Bunnymund introduced his girlfriend’s best friend.

This was supposed to be a nice evening. He had cleared up his schedule specifically for tonight (if he kept on canceling every time something “came up”, Bunny would probably have strangled him) and was more than ready to enjoy his first free night in three years.

Luckily, he had been spared his friend’s backlash since Tooth’s friend also had to unexpectedly rain check their outing several times.

It wasn’t like Jack didn’t like the idea of his friend now being engaged (albeit, it had shaken him a little). Toothiana was a lovely woman, a bubbly behavior that balanced Bunny´s down to earth personality. The aussie had never been in such a long relationship before, but on the four year mark he decided to pop the question.

Jack, as the newly designated best man, was having a hard time handling his responsibilities for his friend’s wedding, his job at North’s store, and his “extracurricular activities”.

The couple had declared that their two friends had to meet in order for their nuptials to smoothly continue.

Toothiana had told him a little about the future bridesmaid. Emily Jane was a no-nonsense successful botanic researcher who Tooth had met at college and become friends with.

To anyone else such a friendship would have seemed rather odd, but considering that he had and Bunny had become friends when the blue-eyed boy was getting his ass handed to him during a bar fight, he understood. His opponent had managed to throw him over the table when Jack had tried to be a knight in shining armor and save one of his friends from a rather insistent ex-boyfriend. Aster had knocked the douchebag with a mean right hook and helped Jack up from the floor.

They had been besties ever since.

Now he was at a fancy restaurant in a five-star hotel, surrounded by his two friends and sitting in front of a stunning woman in a black dress who was sending intense glances his way.

Not in the sexy sense, more like “I want to murder you with this very steak knife I have in my hand” kinda way.

Although his presence had never warranted such a reaction from anyone he had met, there was a little problem.

He knew this woman.

And judging by the recognition in her eyes when they shook hands for the first time, she knew him as well.

Despite his best effort to keep his night job and his personal life separate, it seems it had come back to bite him.

The woes that betides a superhero.

Yes, he had superpowers. And yes he spent most of his free time as a vigilante making the streets of Burgess City a little safer to tread.

By now, Jack Frost had become more than just a fable among people.

It had been quite a decision when his ice powers manifested for the same time after his close call with death at the local pond he used to skate at with his little sister.

He remembered the cold and the dark water that surrounded him. He can even recall his sister screaming out his name from the surface. But then he woke up in a hospital bed after being unconscious for days and with his mother and sister asleep by his bedside.

His powers took two weeks to show themselves.

A glisten and a flurry of ice shot out of his hand into the tree next to him and covered it with an intricate and budding frost pattern. And the rest was history.

Had it not been for the present tense atmosphere, he would have chuckled at his memory of his first years as a superhero, running around with a mask and in an old blue hoodie. What a reckless kid he had been.

Thankfully his current supersuit was now more outfitted for combat and to handle his powers. North had been very helpful after Jack had busted into his shop to stop a large robbery.

And yes, of course North knew of his double life (the ex Russian scientist was his go to tech guy, after all). A superhero couldn’t keep down a stable job as easily as the comics made it look, and he had rent to pay.

In his many comings and goings he had faced many different foes: the low life criminals that preyed on the streets, the low level grunts of the mafia families, even a few corrupt leaders of the crime syndicates that sat atop of the city.

But none had been such a challenge like his arch nemesis. Persephone.With such a taste for dramatics, no wonder the universe had decided to search for someone to meet her match.

Her phytokinetic powers had him gawking at her when they first met at a bank robbery – that she orchestrated!

With a graceful swoop she and her plants had descended upon him and confronted him in one of the most engaging combats he had had in ages.

He was quick and nimble, but her defense and her strikes knocked the wind out of him.

Luckily, he had entertained her enough for the police back up to arrive.

She had left him fighting off thorny vines and unable to follow her and end the dance they had started.

Jack Frost had encountered the mysterious woman several other times.

She seemed to dabble in several types of crimes, but was quite adept to burglary. The high-class type. Although those pompous fishes could do with having a little less money, the upper class victims were outraged at the inability of the police to catch the masked villainess.

The mystery that was Persephone had kept him awake many nights. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all from a sleuth-related nature.

Her sly smile was ever present when he closed his eyes, so was her taught yet lithe body he had felt during close quarters combat and her alluring and taunting voice.

In other words, his imagination was playing against him. And he was losing, part of him wanted to put her behind bars so he would stop thinking of her so damn much.In another universe, these two characters would have never recognized the other; oblivious of their double life until some convoluted hand of destiny revealed their identities at a more inconvenient time.

But it seemed that fate had other plans.

His mind was brought back from his machinations all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this call.” Emily’s voice apologized profusely to her friend. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She sauntered out of view, almost as if she knew that his eyes would follow her.

“I…uh…I gotta use the restroom” He spluttered and excused himself away from the couple.

Jack passed the restrooms, and made his way to the open courtyard the hotel had.It looked quite pretty with the lights that illuminated the ornate fountain.

She was there, with her back to him and appearing to admire the abundant yet harmonic greenery that surrounded them.

Oh how freaking convenient.

He approached, carefully as you would to a deadly animal. The frost was starting to surge on his palm but yet he didn’t attack. The place was secluded but not enough for a full on battle to go unnoticed.

“Of all the places in this city, I find you here.” She still did not turn to face him. “How odd, isn’t it?”

Jack didn’t answer, sizing her up. He felt relief that she hadn’t take the steak knife with her, but that feeling burst when he realized she was far more deadly without it.

“And here I was planning such a show for when we met again.” Persephone said in her usual tone; the type of confident voice that came from always holding all the cards.

“Eager to see me, sweetheart?” The word escaped his mouth before he could help it.

They had slipped into well-known roles; their war of wits just as accelerating to him as their physical warfare.

“Flirt all you want, Frost.” Her head turned to glance at him, a smirk blooming in her lips. “But you’re not handing me over to the police just yet.”

The plants around them swooshed, but not because of the wind.

“Really?” Jack clenched his jaw, his muscles tensing. “And why is that?”

She now fully turned around and stepped forward, but he held his ground.

“Because you wouldn’t want to break your dear friend’s heart, would you?”

That sent a rush of fear through his blood. Instantly, a sharp spike of ice was forming onto his hand and was inches away from her neck. She didn’t even flinch. “If you dare harm Bunny or Tooth-”

“Spare me the theatrics, Frost.” She said calmly, as if she didn’t have an ice blade to her neck ready to run her through. “I’m not going to hurt any of them.”

Ok, that had him baffled.

“What?”

“I happen to truly care for Toothiana, and I even like Bunnymund enough to entrust him the safety and happiness of the only true friend I’ve ever had.” She firmly explained in all seriousness. “I would walk through burning coals for her and make anyone who hurts her wish they were dead.”

“What I meant to say is that we happen to be their best man and bridesmaid, quite crucial to their wedding if memory serves me right.” Emily continued to explain. “And I think it would put a damper on their wedding if I were to get rid of you or, in the most unlikely case, for you to send me to prison. That’s why I’ve decided we should reach a compromise.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“A truce.” She replied with a confident smile. “I don’t go around on my nightly activities and you don’t try to throw me in jail while our friends are planning their wedding. Heck, we might have to work together to make it happen so it would be useful to not be at each other’s throats.”

Jack Frost had not expected this at all. Was she truly going to just play nice with him until their friends were married?

It felt like he was missing something. Once more, she had pulled the rug from under his feet.

Jack shook his head to clear out the fog, as the wheels spun inside his head. “How can I trust Burgess City’s top criminal to keep her word?”

“I guess it’s all about a leap of faith” She stepped closer and gently placed a hand on his chest, the ice dagger now pressing firmly against her skin but she paid it no mind since she was finding him far more interesting. The conflict that battled within those blue eyes of his was positively delicious, and so was his accelerated heartbeat. “Aren’t you heroes all about that, anyways?”

Silence stretched over them, both enemies sizing each other up for the others next move. But, in the end, it was him who spoke.

To be honest, he was probably making the biggest mistake of his life.

“Fine.” He warily acquiesced. “We play nice until Bunny and Tooth get married, but if I find out that you’re at it again then the deal is off.”

“Sounds good to me” She grinned, trying to suppress the mix of anticipation and adrenaline that had her self-control in such shaky grounds. “Now would you kindly put the icicle away? I need to get back to our table before Tooth gets worried.”

The spike vanished, and he retreated back so her influence would stop messing with his head.

She made her way out of the garden, but turned around to end their encounter with one last warning. “Don’t worry, once we cart them off to their honeymoon we can go back to destroying each other like always”

He didn’t grace her with an answer as the sharp click of her stilettos faded away in the distance.

Jack combed a hand through his hair and sighed.

There were definitely going to be some interesting months ahead of him.

TADA! Hope you liked it.

If you feel like sending asks, don´t hesitate to do so (it might take time but I’ll eventually get there, I promise!)

[thebeethathums]

Writing Question Tag Thing

Tagged by the always amazing @angryteapot and I stole their under the cut message because I am lazyyy.

Some of these answers are pretty long, so if you’re interested in learning a bit about me, then by all means, read under the cut! 

Q: What is your coffee order?

Coffee isn’t really my jam. I’m more of tea drinker. I like most teas and I vary a lot but my current order is a London Fog... it’s like... Earl Grey tea with Milk and sweetener. Pretty good.

Q: What is the coolest thing you’ve ever done?

I don’t really consider myself cool thing kind of person but, to me, two things stand out. First, I’ve seen the Mona Lisa up close like behind the rope >:) My Grandmother was still spry enough at the time to travel with only minor accommodations but the Louvre is massive so they offered her a wheelchair. She graciously accepted and the guards let us go behind the rope so she could see. An amazing and serendipitous opportunity. Second, I cosplayed Lumpy Space Princess from Adventure Time at Comic-Con with a couple of friends dressed as Marceline and Finn and we met the voice actors for Marceline and her Dad! It was pretty awesome. YES, I’m a nerd. Deal with it.

Q: Who has been your biggest mentor?

Honestly, it was the lady my parents hired to help me with my college transfer application. She was a tough love kind of person (which I needed at the time) and one of the only people to tell me that what I could do art and writing wise HAD VALUE. That was kind of a turning point for me in a lot of ways. I will always ALWAYS be grateful to her for that.

Q: What has been your most memorable writing project?

OKAY. So fanfiction wise. Observers. Pretty obvi. Academically, my thesis for my English degree. I wrote about the idea of ‘the other’ in the Mass Effect video game series (ALL THREE OF THEM.) It was very long and involved lots of gameplay for research purposes. Personally, the most memorable for me out of them all would be the first short story I wrote. It had a really interesting concept and was well received by my peer reviewers and that made me happy which made it memorable *shrug*

Q: What does your writing path look like, from the earliest days until now?

I’ve always been a bit of a scribbler in a lot of ways. I had a poem published after some sort of school contest or something and I kept a sort of haphazard journal for years. To be completely honest, I didn’t start writing anything that wasn’t for school until fan fiction. That’s not to say I didn’t like writing. I just always channeled it into an academic setting. Which meant my teachers got A LOT of strange papers from me... to name a few: Aliens in Mystic anthropology vs. Aliens in modern media, Shakespeare's Effects on Science Fiction, Stage or Screen: How well do musicals translate into cinema, A Cinematic Analysis of Monsoon Wedding, Van Helsing the Hugh Jackman movie related Bram Stoker’s Dracula... among others. I think I also wrote an entire philosophy paper about unicorns at one point. I was that kid that always took a prompt somewhere the teacher never really intended. It wasn’t until I transferred to a different college that I felt like I had anything important to say story wise... and then fan fiction became an almost frantic outlet to get all of it out- followed quickly by some original work and more poetry. It’s been kind of a wild ride from there.

Q: What is your favorite part about writing?

Honestly, the control. I love being able to do whatever the heck I want with characters- mine or canon. Since I don’t really plan all that much when I write it starts out more of an idea like what if this person existed. What if they were all in this place. And then I get to run with it however I want and that is the best feeling. Soo... Control and details. I love world building.

Q: What does a typical day look like for you?

It depends on day. I’m not an early riser and thankfully my job doesn’t make be get up early at the moment. Work days I’m up by 8:30, work by ten, work either 7 or 9 hours. Then home and SLEEP. Front facing sales jobs for introverts are exhausting TBH. I hate it. Looking for something different ASAP. Off days are more relaxed but I’m a caregiver for my Grandma so mostly cooking and cleaning and then chilling with my puppers/writing/whatever else catches my fancy.

Q: What does your writing process look like?

Mostly staring at a google doc for an embarrassing amount of time. I only seem to have two writing modes. Staring or greatly inspired. When I’m actually writing good chunks it usually because I imagined some bits of how it will go over a day or so and then it just flows. Other times it’s staring and rewriting things a million times. I suppose that's pretty normal.

Q: What’s the best advice you’ve gotten?

Letting go of toxic people in my life. I’m a big giver in a lot of ways and shy so I don’t make friends easily... unfortunately its led to a lot of situation where I’m taken advantage of or stomped on emotionally. It took me a long time to learn to be picky with who you surround yourself with.

Q: What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?

You can’t force other people to change. I’ve struggled with my relationship with my mother for ages and in an amazingly clear moment, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, if she doesn’t want to make a change to be a positive and more sensitive person toward me then she won't. I can’t force her to change her ways no matter how healthy it would be for both of us. Once I accepted this, things got easier to handle. I see her less but I know exactly what to expect when I do and let things roll off me a little better than I used to.

Q: What advice would you give someone who wants to start writing?

Writing anything, even if it's short and horrible in your mind, is better than writing nothing. Really. When I’m struggling I force myself to at least write something because a bad first draft can only improve whereas no draft can do absolutely squat.

Tagging: No tags. Don’t want to annoy anyone. BUT if anyone would like to answer them TAG me I would love to read your answers!

[sleepingarchangel]

Dear L.B.B.

Dear L.B.B.,

today I had another older adult so kindly warn me about what I will have to be putting up with if I get married. Might I add that I am currently going into my fifth year of dating the same wonderful man. I do intend to marry him. I told him if he doesn’t give me his last name I will come after him and make sure no one else gets it.

Anyway, this isn’t the first time the generation before me has so graciously given me their unsolicited warnings (or advice) concerning marriage - and quite frankly it’s all quite discouraging. I wish there was simply more positive things they could say to balance it out as well, but everyone makes marriage sound like a trap (kind of like growing up). The divorce rates alone can convince anyone they’re better off alone. I used to judge people who don’t believe in marriage, and now I think I understand.

What else I’m supposed to think when married couples of 20 years or more (and divorcees) make remarks such as “now remember when you get married, you can’t...” or “you’ll have to put up with _____ for the rest of your life - so what are you willing to put up with?”

My favorite: “oh you’re so young... don’t get married yet - you have so much left to experience,”

Thank you Cindy. I now feel like my life will in fact be ending at the altar instead of beginning a beautiful new chapter. 

It’s downright depressing. I can’t tell whether I should be ashamed or not that I’ve cried just thinking about how many times I’ve heard a jolly rant about a spouse. Maybe it was lighthearted - or maybe it wasn’t... it probably wasn’t... even though it was told as a joke. It was a comical story to make all the other married people in the room laugh because it’s so relatable. SO relatable. Scarily relatable. Will I be able to relate one day? Do I want to be able to relate?

See, their generation is so quick to judge ours for the increasing rates of divorces, single parents, or simply those who have lost the belief in the concept or marriage at all. But why would anyone of my generation want to get married after hearing how their parents and mom’s friends talk about it? 

Yeah, that generation did a bang-up job promoting the beautiful covenant of marriage - a union of two people. I can’t wait to have a wedding where everyone gets hyped for the celebration, the dress, and oh wow look - what an amazing venue - when I know there select people thinking:

“I hope they make it past five years - those are the hardest” 

“Ha, you mean ten, years,”

“I guess we’ll just wait and see how long they’ll last”

“You know, they’re hardest struggle will be...”

I get it - there are struggles in marriage. Yes, I want to be prepared for them. But what do I have to look forward to? Tell me what your favorite thing is about being married. Tell me a routine that you and your spouse have that brings you both joy. Tell me about one thing that you appreciate about your spouse.

You know, the interesting thing is that even though I hear all these things and I see all these terrible marital relationships and broken families because of choices of a spouse, I still hold onto hope that my story will be different. I hope that I can be the wife one day that gives a little hope to the next generation and say ‘yeah, marriage is beautiful and a blessing in my life and let me tell you exactly why,’