#did a double take when a bunch of people said that tech guys only care about generative AI for art and writing. which is atrociously false

[exeggcute]

sorry to say it but the way certain netizens with humanities backgrounds talk about "STEM bros" is exactly as circlejerky as the way holier-than-thou engineers trash people with art history degrees but I don't think the former group realizes how much they are Not making astute social commentary with their potshots. which if you think about is not a good sign for us B.A. havers lol

[ranger-rai]

Alright guys, A lot has happened in the last couple of days so let me catch you all up.

So we have been getting some reports of a "Swarm" of pokemon causing some problems around Sinnoh.

We looked into it and after a couple nights of steakouts, we discovered that our "Swarm" was actually a Purrloin who knew Double Team.

Apparently it had been stealing from alot of small homes, mainly trash.

This Purrloin was incredibly aggressive and seemingly protective of something.

We tracked it down to to a small den just outside of Solaceon Town.

Well we were expecting it to be taking care of its kittens, however we did not expect what we actually found.

-------

We found this Purrloin trying to feed the scraps it stole to a Lycanroc.

The Purrloin was very protective and tried attacking us.

It was surprisingly tough for a single Purrloin, however we managed to restrain it.

However we found it weird that this Dusk Lycanroc wasn't moving or reacting much.

I went and checked it out when it was clear and we found something really unsettling.

This Lycanroc has some spine problems, I know this because it struggled to get up but when it did, it got on four legs, then two legs.

Now a Dusk form Lycanroc is made to be on all four like this

However its back is arced upwards like it's slouching.

It's also shaking a bit, and is covered in scratches and bruises.

Every time I try and get close the Purrloin starts thrashing and clawing.

We let it go and it made its way back to the Lycanroc, and started to guard it again.

We knew this was bad, so we made a plan to try and help them.

-------

We managed to get Purrloin secure once again and Lycanroc into a cage very carefully, but we kept them close together as we transported them.

Lycanroc was surprisingly docile and just seemed tired and dehydrated, so we made sure it got plenty of water.

Purrloin was on edge the whole time, making sure that Lycanroc ate, and keeping us at a distance, but I caught her eating from time to time.

We had to hold her down once again, but she used her double team to evade us for a bit. She really knows how to use that move.

Eventually we restrained her when we got to the Ranger Base and we had a medical technician look at Lycanroc.

They said that it had some severe spine misalignment, not from an injury but from constant strain.

At some point during our conversation, we noticed Lycanroc trying to get up, and "stand up" again on two legs, like a Midnight Form Lycanroc.

It was really odd to see, and the tech helped put it him back onto two legs, but it almost seemed scared to be touched when in that position.

This wasn't battle damage, this was intentional trauma.

Purrloin was definitely upset, and managed to get free and started scratching at the technician.

Thankfully I restrained her so the technician could work more, and I calmed her down a bit.

The tech said that they would need to run some tests on the Lycanroc to see if they could fix his back, so we had to let him stay for a while.

However we couldn't leave Purrloin there in case she tried to attack the tech again.

-------

I didn't want to seperate them, but I needed her to be somewhere safe while the technician did his job, so I got her into a carrier and took her with me on my rounds.

She was hissing and scratching for a while but I sat and talked with her for a bit and she seemed pretty alert but much calmer.

Most of the day was just a usual trip around my areas, however I started finding alot more litter in some areas.

There was alot of trash on the ground in a park area just outside Veilstone City, and normally I would pick it all up, but there was alot, almost like there was a carnival recently there, but there was nothing planned as far as I knew.

I also noticed Purrloin getting really upset and hissing a lot.

I looked around the trash and found a bunch of flyers for some kind of venue.

"Mister E's Enigmas"

The flyer listed a sort of sideshow of oddities.

Things like:

The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers, Dancing Donphan, and their star attraction-

"The Were-Lycanroc" a pokemon that could switch between forms.

That's when it hit me, and I knew someone was going to get in trouble.

-------

After bringing this information to the technician and my boss Jo. Me and my Ranger Team decided to attend the show incognito to see if we were right, and boy we wish we weren't.

We attended what could only be described as a shifty, pop up carnival.

There were a few games, a couple food trucks, and a large tent that held the "main events".

There were some "exotic" holding cages that people could interact with like a small cage for two Emolga to live in, they could barely get into the air before smacking into the roof.

There was a small area that had a large heat lamp for "desert" pokemon, but it was mostly a browning Cacnea, a Trapinch with barely enough sand to cover its body, and a Salandit which didn't belong there.

There were others but we already knew what those cages would be like as well.

The show kn the main stage was getting ready to start, so we decided to check it out.

"Mister E" took to the stage, he had your typical big top attire, top hat, long tails, but he had a stripey pattern that made him look like a hypnotic wheel.

He introduced his first act, which was "The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers". I was worried.

Now Treecko is a Grass Type, and it only learns one grass type move naturally: Sunny Day.

They also don't have any natural immunities to fire types, so this didn't make much sense for normal Treecko.

From what I saw in the act, they learned how to eat fire and pretend they were using flamethrower. However you could tell they didn't like it. Treecko are calm and collected pokemon, but those two looked stressed out, and they were molting a bit in certain areas near their face and tails, probably due to the flames and stress.

After them was the "Dancing Donphan". Donphan is a very heavy pokemon, and it's main skill is rolling like a tire.

This Donphan looked much lighter, like it hadn't been fed its regular amount to keep it healthy.

Minnie also mounted out that the music playing during the dance had a weird sound mixed in. Basically, whenever we heard the sound, Donphan would do a move like jumping or rolling over. The sound was similar to a sort of crash, but it was clear that it was a sound that Donphan was afraid of.

Now came the finale, "The Were-Lycanroc" however that part didn't happen, and instead they brought out some clowns and the Treecko Brothers again.

Thats when we knew what was really happening.

-----

I went back to check on Lycanroc who was sleeping like a log with Purrloin right next to it.

I didn't remember any cages with any feline pokemon in them so maybe it was just a wild Purrloin, but I wasn't going to disturb them to find out.

The doctor told me that it might take some time, but Lycanroc's spine and back legs were forced to move in positions they weren't supposed to for so long, that it would take some time, therapy and equipment to help it.

If there was a chance to help this poor pokemon I knew we would take it, but we also couldn't leave all of those other pokemon to suffer.

We were about to get really busy at the Ranger Base.

------

The next day, Me and Minnie went incognito one more time and we had to sit through that horrible show once more.

We had Skip with us, helping to send info and let us know of any devices or intercept their communications.

Turns out we didn't know that was happening because they had police scanners to avoid getting caught and they had wireless security cameras inside the tent.

They were prepared, but so were we.

My whole team was on board, both Humans and Pokemon.

We had a plan that began with Kuriboh knocking out some generators by sneaking around and unplugging everything he could.

That caused some confusion for a bit while we got in place. While they went to secure their "precious cargo", we made our presence known.

Eddie was outside the tent, dealing with the muscle and moving crews, his Bewear is very strong and pretty quick too, so we didn't need to worry about them much.

However we still had Mister E.

I told Bliss to keep an eye on him so we wouldn't loose him in the panic, but we had a delay as some of the Treeco Bros fire got out of control and some of the tent started to catch on fire.

Minnie and her Cloyster were immediately ready to deal with it and she was ready to help the Treeco Bros as well.

Bliss was able to keep tabs on the ringleader who was trying to get into his van and split, most likely with his cash.

However, Sylvester doesn't like people who mistreat pokemon, and Jo's Tangrowth has some really strong vines. Strong enough to rip car doors off hinges.

------

We had caught this terrible man, and we discovered he had been doing this for a couple of years, just now making his way through Sinnoh, and he was looking for some pokemon to add to his show.

We also watched some of his security tapes and we learned that "Were-Lycanroc" was really just a Dusk Form that he forced to stand up and slouch over by constantly whipping with a flexible stick. And with the assistance of red lights, smoke machines and music, hey could make people think it was changing forms.

We also learned that Purrloin was tossed into Lycanroc's cage, possibly as a "play thing" but I guess he actually made a friend either her and hiding her from Mister E, and she had been caring for him as well, stealing food and causing trouble for them whenever she could.

Needless to say, we were able to get them arrested, and we are now in the process of evaluating some of these pokemon, but we may have too many to deal with here.

We might need to reach out for some help.

------

In the case of Lycanroc and Purrloin, they are comfortably resting in holding, and Lycanroc is be getting fitted for some equipment to help its spine and legs heal.

I'll be checking on them soon, but for now me and my team need to rest after this long day.

[pi-cat000]

FMA:B/BNHA Crossover (2)

Summary: Ed gets stuck in the BNHA world after the end of brotherhood. He starts trying to find a way home and ends up inadvertently working for the league of villains.

Part 1 here

..

..

At one point, the ground level of Ed’s building had probably been a nice-looking shopfront, maybe a flower shop or grocers or something more befitting this weird world…like a tech repair store.  Now, the ground level doubles as apartment space, large windows caked with dust and grime, curtains permanently drawn to hide its occupancy. Heck, if Ed hadn’t been around to fix the glass with alchemy the ground floor would have been pretty much unliveable. Like many buildings in the area, it was a victim of a villain/hero confrontation which always seemed to generate an obscene amount of property damage. Great for leveraging his repair skills in exchange for free accommodation and about nothing else. Not that the people here saw it as much of a problem.

Ed scowls, flipping his OPEN sign to CLOSED, yanking the door shut, locking up as he goes.

Ed doesn’t quite understand the whole thing, and he had had one of the worst track records for property damage when it came to state alchemists. The difference being that he had always returned to reverse as much of the alchemical damage as he could and if he couldn’t Mustang had some other military alchemist/personal waiting in the wings to see to the problem. Rebuilding here was the responsibility of some external agency or other. Ed is a little hazy on how the system was supposed to work, seeing as the military had little to no involvement with anything hero related. Though, considering how the Amestrian military had been in the process of feeding the souls of its citizens to a loosely defined truth God, maybe that was a good thing. Honestly, researching how this place ran its bureaucracy was low on his priority list.

“Hey! Ed! You’re out early? Off somewhere interesting?”  

“Did you see the guy who just came through here,” he asks, eyeing his fellow apartment-liver who seemed to have nothing better to do than loiter outside and yell at people on the street. The greasy-haired man is puffing smoke near the corner of the building with his two equally scruffy friends. They all have a physical abnormally, a lizard tail, claws, bulging eyes, that remind him uncomfortably of chimeras despite knowing it was a result of more quirk bullshit.

The guy blows smoke in his direction, “Big, tall dude? Pretty suspicious looking with the hood and all. I saw him go in. Didn’t see him leave …funny that.”

“Yeah…funny…” Ed mutters, “Did you recognise him?”

“I might have.”

Ed huffs, rolling his eyes and continues down the road. He would leave bribing his neighbours for possible information as a last resort.

He passes the vacant lot holding a near identical half-collapsed block, followed by another nicer looking building, then another, before they gave way to shops and smaller structures. That was something he was still getting used to…the sheer scale of the city. Even Central had barely been a quarter of this city’s size. Luckily, his destination isn’t too far so he doesn’t have to worry about getting lost.  

The building he arrives at is taller than the rest and full of office space. The main lift is out of order so Ed trudges up three flights of stairs to the top floor, stomping into the empty reception/waiting area only hesitating for a second before slamming his hand onto the bell sitting atop the front desk.

There is a muffled voice, “I’m coming. I’m coming. No need for that racket!”

The door behind the desk swings open.

“Edward?”

“Hey, old man,” he gives a small wave, “It’s been a few weeks.”

The man, tall, well-built, cropped brown hair, stares at Ed.

“Yeah it’s been a few weeks! You need to check your phone and answer your messages every now and then. You’re giving me grey hairs. More grey hairs!”

“Right…my phone….” He forgot he had it when not using it to help with navigation. Also, messaging was a pain. He had picked up the local spoken language fast enough out of necessity, but his reading and writing were still a work in progress. Lucky for him, this reality had a few languages similar enough to Amestrian that if he really wanted to read something he could get a translation. It still made written communication tricky.

“I'll try and check it more often," he placates, "I’m here for some information about a job I was offered and seeing you know a bunch of the local businesses I thought I would drop by.”

“Information?” Masao Uraraka lets out a long breath, “And there I went thinking that you were going to take me up on my apprenticeship offer.”

Ed shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. The older man grunts, “Well come on through. You’re lucky you caught me in the office. I’m usually on-site supervising about this time. But, can’t do much of that until those idiots at HC Construction.co get the go-ahead from their insurance company.”

Ed slips past and into a dimly lit office space which is surprisingly well organised. Across the wall is a collage of family photos, depicting a woman and young girl at various stages of growth.

“…that’s not your problem though. How have you been kid? Hope you haven’t been in too many fights.”

“Hey,” he objects, “Some idiots need a good punch,” and then adds a little less aggressively, “But no. No fights. I’ve been researching quirks....”

“Quirks. That’s different? Weren't you studying chemistry or something?”

Ed shrugs again, unwilling to divulge much else. Uraraka tended to be nosey out of some misguided notion that he could help Ed ‘get back on his feet’ after whatever tragic backstory he had cooked up for him.

“You’re still living at Old Man Watanabe’s right? He not pulling anything is he? Old coot always tries to weasel more out of his deals.”  

Ed can’t help but agree,  “He’s been trying to get me to re-wire the whole building. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

Of course, this just sets Uraraka off on a round of angry muttering, “Is that right? I can have a talk with him. I’ve told him that he needs an electrician and a proper plumber. He owes me a few favours so I can… ”

“It’s fine,” Ed quickly interrupts. Uraraka had his own problems and family to look after. The guy reminded him of Hughes in that he cared way too much. “One grumpy landlord isn’t worth worrying about.”

Uraraka visibly deflates, “Yes, well, most kids your age shouldn’t be worried about that sort of stuff at all. You should be finishing up your schooling, getting your Japanese up to scratch and studying for college entrance exams. You remind me of my daughter. Stubborn.” He pulls a framed photo from his desk, pointing it at Ed, shaking it for emphasis, “She wants to be a Hero you know. A HERO! Can you believe it! My cute little girl, getting into fights with villains.”

Ed clears his throat awkwardly. Yeah, this guy was definitely this world’s weird version of Hughes. If Hughes had worked in construction and had, you know, not died. This isn’t the first time he has had a picture of Ochako, Uraraka’s daughter, shoved in his face.

“About that information?” He cautiously interrupts and gets another sigh.

“Yes, yes. You kids are always so impatient. What’s this job then? What idiot is going around hiring 16-year-olds.”

“Actually, the guy that came in just mentioned some construction work,” Ed rubs his neck, now slightly subconscious, realising he doesn’t have a whole lot to go on, “he didn’t give me a lot of details, just left this.” Ed pulls out the envelope placing it on the desk next to the assortment of framed photographs and scribbly kid drawings.

With a raised brow, Uraraka pulls it towards him, peering in. The man’s eyes widen and he closes the envelope, frowning, “This supposed to be a down payment in advance of a job, or is it for material costs? Because it’s a bit much for a down payment and nowhere near enough for materials. Not if it’s for anything serious. What sort of work is it? You know I can’t lend you equipment without a licence…but I’ll help you source anything that you…”

“No,” Ed rushes to interrupt, “the guy said it was a sign of goodwill. I take it that’s not a normal thing people do in the, ah, construction business?”

“No. It definitely is not,” Uraraka now looks concerned, “there would usually be a contract for services before any sort of payment. Especially, if you’re going to be working as an independent contractor.”

So that just confirmed what he already knew. Ed continues, “So you haven’t heard about people asking around for under the table construction work then?”

“No. I can ask a few of my freelancers if they’ve had similar offers but I deal above the board with licenced workers only, so it’s unlikely they’ll have heard anything.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He glares at the envelope.

“What did he look like? This man that came in?”

“Oh, he was tall, made of dark purple smoke and had a teleportation quirk…I think. He also asked about my quirk and its limits.”

“I’ll keep an ear out.”  Uraraka promises and frowns at Ed, “I hope you’re not considering this offer.”

Ed grunts noncommittally and gets a look of disapproval that reminds him so much of Hughes its almost painful. He tries not to feel disappointed at the lack of answers because coming to Uraraka had always been a long shot. ‘You’re sad, lonely and the only conversations you’ve had this last week were yelling matches with your landlord and neighbours. Uraraka is a nice man. Of course, you would come to him for advice.’ A voice that sounds suspiciously like Al chimes in. ‘I don’t want him to worry. I’m not staying here long. What’s he going to think when I suddenly disappear,’ he snaps back and immediately feels foolish.

Maybe the isolation is getting to him a bit.

“If it's money you need that I’m more than happy to help you get licenced and certified…” Uraraka continues to talk oblivious to the fact that Ed is barely paying attention.

He doesn’t want to settle down and get a popper job or finish off his schooling or talk to youth services or whatever other things Uraraka had brought up in the few months they had known each other. That would be admitting defeat. Also, he had no ID or history and he was pretty sure you needed both to work any legitimate jobs.

“I can handle myself,” he says out loud.

“Yes, you’re worryingly self-sufficient but there is a difference between unlicensed quirk use and aiding and abetting criminals. No self-respecting, above board, organisation hires a kid to do construction work and throws a bunch of money at them.”

“I know.”

Yeah, he knows Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious was probably a criminal of this reality. He knows he is probably getting himself into something dicey and illegal but he needs to follow whatever lead he can to get back home. Finding a quirk with either the ability to transport him between realities or one with the power equivalent to a few thousand souls was his last hope of ever hearing Al's, the real Al’s, voice again.

The older man rubs his forehead, visibly exasperated, “But you’re going to ignore me. Stubborn brat.”

[vikingpoteto]

27, 9, pick any two bats

 To no one’s surprise I pick Jason and Tim + cleaning wounds + “Listen, I know it’s hard, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Red Robin looks around his kitchen and tries to list 5 things he can see. The pictures of his friends held by magnets on the fridge. The pile of dirty mugs in the sink. The unread papers spread on the table. The closed window. The trail of blood leading to the counter where he’s sitting. He makes a mental note to clean that up in the morning. Before that train of thought leads him somewhere else, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 4 things he can touch now. The leather of his cowl that he slowly peels away. The cold surface of the counter. The hard wall behind his back. The needle between his fingers. Another deep breath. 3 things he can hear. The clock ticking against the loud silence. Traffic and distant sirens. His mildly ragged breath. He opens his eyes, hoping he doesn’t have any cracked ribs. Another deep breath. He can smell antiseptic and also something coppery. He licks his lips. The one thing he can taste is the bitter pang from the antibiotics he took. 

Tim Drake glares at the needle. This isn’t the first time he had to stitch himself up. This isn’t the first time he had to take care of his own wounds. 

However, this is the first time he’s the one and only responsible for it. 

In another life, he would do a patch job, emergency stuff only, and then get to Alfred as soon as he could for a double check. In a time that felt like a dream now, he would have the latest health tech available and Cissie hovering over his bed while Cassie fussed about how he irresponsibly hurt himself, Bart made a joke out of everything and Conner, of all people, would be the one getting Tim proper care. Less than a month ago, the most deadly organization of the world was making sure Tim was getting the best care available. While his trembling fingers put the thread in the needle, he thinks of the almost healed scar from a damn splenectomy. He doesn’t know what Ra’s people had done to him, but he’s been recovering unnaturally fast, especially considering his immunity. 

Tim bites his tongue and looks down at his battered outfit. He could go to Leslie’s clinic. But it’d be stupid to go all the way there for a couple of bruises and a wound that would probably take less than five stitches. Tim could go to the cave, but… No. He puts the needle down and starts pulling his shirt out. He can’t completely muffle a pained groan and he hates the way it echoes in his empty kitchen. It’s been less than a week since he left Dick, Alfred and Damian. He’s an emancipated adult by all means. Bruce trained him to be independent. He can do this. 

Except… as soon as he reaches for the antiseptic, he hears a noise coming from the living room. Tim freezes. You’ve got to be kidding me. Of all the nights to have a robber breaking into his apartment, tonight? Did it have to be tonight? 

Painstakingly, he jumps to the floor and reaches for his staff. He has half a mind to get his cowl, but he thinks Tim Drake defending himself with what could’ve been a broomstick is easier to explain than Red Robin just hanging out at his place. If he’s lucky - and, after tonight, he feels like the universe owes him - he’ll knock out the robber before they see him. 

The most ridiculous thing about all this is that he feels like crying. He doesn’t know why. He barely remembers the last time he cried. Probably right before he realized Bruce could be alive. As much as he’s in pain now, this is no reason to cry like a baby. Especially not in front of a robber. 

Tim silently hides by the side of the fridge and listens. The person in his living room is good. He can barely hear their steps. He can tell there is only one of them, however, and, judging by the way the sound become louder, they’re coming towards the kitchen. Partly to focus on his hearing, partly to ignore the way his eyes are glazing over, he closes his eyes, listens and waits. He waits. He waits a little more.

Ignoring the way his muscles ache in protest, he swirls around and aims for the gut, hoping to knock the air out of the robber. Gloved hands grab his staff and the invader takes a step back before recovering his balance.

“Woah,” he says in a familiar voice, “easy there.”

Tim raises his gaze to face him. Red Hood lets go of the staff in order to remove the helmet, revealing Jason Todd’s frown. Tim feels his shoulders slumping.

“What the fuck, Jason?” Tim hisses. He feels his voice will break if he tries to speak up. 

“I should be the one asking that.” Jason puts his helmet aside. He takes one second glancing around until he finds Tim’s medical supplies. “Is this sanitary? Shouldn’t you be doing first aid in your high tech basement?”

He should. It would’ve been more practical than getting the whole first aid kit and bringing it up here. However, using his medical bay for the first time… It would make it all too real. Too definitive. Tim can’t tell Jason that.

“Medical bay isn’t finished. Kitchen or bathroom were my best options,” he lies.

“Hm,” Jason says as though he doesn’t believe him.

Tim could lie to Batman if he needed to, but, for some reason, Jason seems to always know the truth.

Without another word, Jason takes off his gloves and leather jacket. He drops them aside and walks to the sink. Tim doesn’t ask Jason how he knows where Tim lives - he won’t insult Jason’s detective abilities like that - but he does frown at the older boy as he strides through Tim’s kitchen like he owns the place. 

In fact, Tim doesn’t want to ask anything. He wants to scream at Jason to go away. He wants to lie down on the cold floor and not move for days. It’s comical in a twisted way that Tim had been just thinking longinly about the time in which he wasn’t alone, and, now that he has company, he wants nothing but to go back in time and hide inside the cupboard until Jason goes away. 

“What are you doing?” Tim croaks. 

“Washing my hands,” Jason says simply. He turns to Tim and waves at him to come closer.

It’s a testament to how miserable Tim feels that he does it without questioning. Jason arches an eyebrow at him and points at the counter where Tim had been sitting not long ago. Tim doesn’t move, even as Jason wipes his hands dry with paper towels and reaches for the hand sanitizer in Tim’s medical kit. 

“Jason,” Tim insists. “What are you doing?”

Jason sighs. “One of my guys told me this new vigilante, this Red Robin guy, took an ugly beating near the harbor while he took down one of Sionis’ turfs.”

“It wasn’t an ugly beating,” Tim mumbles.

“Wasn’t it?” Jason asks, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Was it easy to fight fifteen guys at the same time, Superman? Did it feel wise to bring a freaking staff to a knife fight?”

“I won!” Tim says. 

“Yeah, and which victorious mighty hero is bloody and purple all over?” Jason barks. “Sit your ass down, Replacement!”

Tim flinches and… freaking hell, his eyes are stinging again, which is the most absurd thing ever. 

Jason sighs one more time, but this time he sounds… Well, annoyed isn’t quite the right word. He does sound somewhat irritated, but there is something else in his tone. Discomfort? Embarrassment?

“That’s not… Ugh, I’m sorry, alright?”

Except that’s actually worse. 

Moments ago, Tim wanted nothing but to be seen. It was pathetic. He wasn’t even that hurt and tonight hadn’t been special. It was just the first time he went out for patrol since he moved into his new apartment. He didn’t stop Poison Ivy, didn’t get into a scuffle with Harvey Dent. He just put away a bunch of low level henchmen even if he miscalculated how many of them would be there. Such a small feat, but there was a part of him that wanted someone to acknowledge that. To see all the bruises and bloody scabs, to pat him on the back and tell him he was great for how hard he was working.

How childish. 

Now that there is someone and he seems to be fully aware of Tim’s misery - enough to apologize for speaking a little too loud - Tim only feels small and stupid. He should’ve hidden it better, he shouldn’t be in this sorry state at all. 

The last time he saw Jason, they made amends. Just returned to Gotham after his mishaps with the League of Shadows, Tim found him to let him know he was aware that Red Hood was active again. Jason had said - albeit not in so many words - he lamented trying to kill Tim one year ago. Tim had told him it was water under the bridge by now and they agreed to work around each other, even if Jason still didn’t meet Dick eye to eye after last year. Then Tim had promised himself he would become strong like that. Jason had been through hell and back so many times and he always bounced back on his own. Why couldn’t Tim?

Maybe that’s why it felt like rubbing salt to the injury when Tim glares at Jason, the boy he was supposed to replace, the man whose shoes were too big for Tim to fill, and Tim’s vision is blurry with tears and his voice is overflowing with frustration when he asks yet again:

“What are you doing here?”

Jason meets his gaze. His brown eyes show clear unease, but he doesn’t look away. His brow is furrowed as though this is painful to admit, but he finally says:

“I heard you were probably hurt like that,” Jason gestures at Tim’s bare torso. “I knew you weren’t going to the cave for aid, so I brought the aid to you.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because if it were me, I wouldn’t go there either,” he states simply.

Tim bites his lip. “You dealt with your wounds alone after you came back.”

“Yes,” Jason says. He gestures at the counter again. This time, Tim sits. “I know it sucks. You ever tried stitching your own back? It’s really fucking hard.”

Tim looks down and doesn’t say anything. Jason brings a damp cotton ball to Tim’s wounds and stats methodically cleaning them. Tim doesn’t flinch, even when it really stings. Even when he feels like shame and guilt are all going to drown him.

“How did you do it?” Tim finally asks.

“The back stitches? A mirror and one of those grabby claw things, whatever they’re called…”

Tim glares at him. 

“So serious,” Jason complains. Then, in a calm voice, “I did it the same way you were doing before I got here. If I didn’t I’d die. Guess I wanted to keep living. You’d be impressed with the things people do when they have no other option.”

“You’re incredible,” Tim admits quietly. “I’m not like you. I’m not strong or… I gotta do this alone. I don’t know how.”

He doesn’t know why he’s saying out loud all the things he struggled to keep hidden for so fucking long. Jason doesn’t seem surprised with the confession though. He keeps calmly checking Tim’s injuries. 

“Not strong, huh? Which one of us took fifteen guys in a fight and won?”

“You know what I mean, Jason.”

“Yeah.” Jason grabs the needle Tim picked earlier and checks it before starting to work. “I know. Except you don’t gotta do anything, Timbers. And I don’t mean the vigilante thing. Fuck, I know none of us can quit this fucking life. We’re in too deep. I meant you’re not supposed to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. That’s what fucked up the old man. That’s how you lose yourself.”

“What’s that?” Tim scoffs. “You sound like a shrink.”

Jason looks up and smirks. “Maybe I have a shrink.”

Tim frowns. “Who?”

“Guess.”

“Jason.”

He chuckles. “Okay, so… I know it seems crazy, but she found me and asked me to join my crew in exchange for taking off this explosive thing that Amanda Waller put in her. And she’s crazy competent, so…”

“No,” Tim interrupts him. “You did not let Harley Quinn join your crew.”

“Actually, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy,” Jason has a shit eating grin even as he finishes his stitch job. “They’re a package deal. Ivy showed up a couple of days after Harley and I couldn’t get her to leave so…”

“You’re working with Harley Quinn and letting her give you therapy sessions,” Tim says. “Am I on a parallel Earth? Have those guys killed me and I’m hallucinating?”

“A lot changes in a year, Timbers, you’ve been gone for a while,” Jason shrugs. “People change too.”

“Not that much!” Tim protests. 

“Is that so? Then how come you gave me, what now, three, four second chances?” Jason glares at him.

That catches Tim off guard. He takes a moment to realize what he’s talking about. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Tim asks, genuinely confused.

“I came back, I tried to kill you. You let it go. I get arrested, you help me to break out. I thank you by losing it after seeing B’s clusterfuck of a testament. You come back like it was nothing and tell me you hope to do business in the future. And you think I’m insane for giving shelter to an abused lady?”

“I’m not saying you’re insane for helping her. I’m saying I wouldn’t trust her advice,” Tim corrects. “Besides I know what you’ve been through. I understand, even if the others don’t. You’re still a hero. Why wouldn’t I help you get back in the game?”

“Because I could hurt you again, you moron,” Jason frustratedly points out.

“You could also be helpful. I decided it was worth taking the chance,” Tim states.

“Yeah, you did,” Jason whispers, using the bandaging as an excuse to avoid Tim’s gaze. “You’re the best of us, Tim. I’m not letting you crash like I did so many times.”

Tim just stares, his lips parted in shock. 

That’s when he feels the dam breaking and tears finally start to stream freely down his cheeks. He sniffles and makes that horrible choked up sound of someone vainly trying not to cry. Jason keeps tending to his injuries even as Tim’s body shakes with barely contained sobs and Tim doesn’t know if he’s ignoring the meltdown out of mercy or because he simply doesn’t know how to deal with it. It’s probably both. 

By the time Jason finishes wrapping up Tim’s many scrapes and rubbing medicine on countless bruises, Tim has managed to contain his sobs and is gingerly trying to wipe his face and pretending he doesn’t feel like he almost drowned.

“Listen, I know it’s hard, Baby Bird,” Jason mutters, a tad awkwardly. “But I’m not going anywhere. It’s not just you against the world.”

“Then what, is it the two of us against it?” Tim tries to quip.

“Maybe,” Jason says. “You did a lot for me. It’s about time I start deserving it.”

“I didn’t do it because I wanted you to pay me back.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here, dumbass,” Jason takes a step back. “I’m done. Go get changed into a pair of sweatpants or something. I’m gonna introduce you to the wonders of 2am cereal.”

Tim lets out a chuckle. “I’ve eaten cereal at 2am before, Jason.”

“Not mine, you haven’t. Chop, chop, kid, we don’t have all night.”

Tim listens to him. 

He should know better, after all he had experienced new beginnings before. All of them inevitably lead to crashing and burning, some rather spectacularly too.

However… There are a few firsts here. This is the first time someone truly understands. This is the first time Tim doesn’t feel like he’s entering a challenge, that he has to earn his place as Robin, as Young Justice’s leader. He feels like his place had been earned, like there’s a small beacon of hope after a long struggle. 

Tim lets himself accept it.

[krokonoko]

the heart wants what it wants. and as much as I love my angst, sometimes I need me some freaky shit like,,, Lacho AUs in which the cartel is not a factor and Lalo and Nacho are just. REGULAR ASS BOYFRIENDS.

LOTS of assorted headcanons under the cut!

shield thine eyes, there’s some heavy ass fluff incoming.

Lalo has his own little restaurant. No one knows how it stays afloat with the erratic way Lalo’s leading it, but it seems his family’s somehow just absolutely loaded, so he can afford it. Honestly sometimes it feels like he just uses it to fuck around with new recipes. Like there’s no real rhyme or reason to what he’s doing, but everyone loves his food, he’s really good with the patrons and if he parties the whole night through then it doesn’t matter cuz the next morning the kitchen still looks spick and span and Lalo’s awake and chipper, ready for the next day! How does he do it? No one knows, especially not his staff. But when someone asks, he just laughs it off and changes the subject and oh my god he’s so charming how could anyone resist him? -

Lalo’s still on the antisocial spectrum and manic af in this AU, so his approach to relationships and emotions is a bit different than your neurotypical one. He seems to have a penchant for breaking rules, can be manipulative at times, and certain things don’t affect him the way you’d expect. But most of the time you wouldn’t even know, cuz generally he’s a really affable guy who’s a lot of fun to be around. He’s genuinely trying not to step on anyone’s toes. That being said, you don’t like him then yeah, he don’t give two shits. -

Nacho used to be part of some gang, but got out in time. He now studies business or something like that. He’s super ambitious and keeps badgering his papá about investing into technical improvements that would make his shop more effective and streamlined. Manuel gets heart burn every time Nacho runs the numbers by him. He’s been running the shop for longer than Nacho is alive, he’s not gonna contract new debts after it took him so long to pay everything off...! And Nacho insists that’s how business WORKS, it’s all about investment and growth. Manuel says with a smile that when the shop is Nacho’s, he can stuff it with all the novelty apparatuses that he wants, but he’ll have to wait until Manuel is no more, and Nacho is like papá don’t be so overdramatic...!! And Manuel laughs and pats Nacho’s back because actually he’s really proud of his son and the fact that he’s so concerned with the shop and they’re HAPPY GODDAMMIT -

For some reason this AU doubles as a modern AU as well. Which means smartphones exist. Nacho spends. SO much time on Instagram. Photos of his car. Photos of Nacho leaning against his car. Gym selfies. All over the damn place. And Lalo doesn’t understand insta cuz he’s a tech averse king, but he still secretly checks out Nacho’s blog all the time cuz yummy! Sometimes he comments on Nacho’s posts with a bunch of. really weird emojis, half of which don’t mean what Lalo thinks they mean, and Nacho thinks it’s cringe af. -

They’ve been having this thing going on for about a year and they’re both suuuper casual about it, like, SO casual, especially Nacho, wow he is so incredibly low key about this, like he is not too all over this or anything, just the right amount of relaxed, laid back, so cool, yeah. -

Just that Lalo is actually incredibly flirty all the time and courts the hell out of Nacho, he’s almost a bit gentleman-like about it, almost a bit old-school, and Nacho thinks that’s kinda dope and the way Lalo treats him like he’s the sexiest thing on earth sometimes comes across as a little condescending but there’s something about it, too, that makes Nacho sometimes lie awake at night thinking about it, brushing his thumb over his lower lip and thinking about the way Lalo pulls him in for kisses. -

When Lalo picks Nacho up from the gym, Nacho smiles when he sees him. When Lalo cracks a crude joke about making people swallow condoms, Nacho chuckles. When Lalo makes him food, Nacho enjoys it. When they walk along the sidewalk in the evening, Nacho casually bumps into Lalo and Lalo puts an arm around Nacho. When Lalo is close, Nacho feels comfortable, and warm, and drawn to him. -

Nacho has had a couple of girl- and boyfriends, but he’s only ever introduced Manuel to his girlfriends. Manuel’s known that Nacho’s into boys ever since he came home early to teenage Nacho and Domingo sitting on the living room couch 6 ft apart with their shirts rumpled and their faces red as beet. But Nacho didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so Manuel respected that. He’s a bit concerned cuz he’s afraid Nacho feels like he can’t talk to him, but he wouldn’t wanna push him. -

So all of Lalo’s attempts to meet papá Varga have been met by Nacho with stone-walling and general avoidance. -

But Lalo’s a very family oriented person so he just decides to make it a surprise dinner! At first Manuel is a bit wary cuz alright, what’s going on, who is this guy? But then Lalo turns up the charm and he’s just one of these guys who are absolutely stellar at wooing older ppl. So he keeps charming circles around Manuel with food and jokes, and Manuel kinda starting to like this guy, and when Manuel wants to get himself some more beer- nonono you stay put Sr. Varga, I’m gonna take care of this for you - and then they get to the part of the evening where Manuel tells childhood stories about Nacho like how he cried when he lost his first tooth and Lalo is just ab-so-lute-ly ENTHRALLED by it all and before you know it he and Manuel are BFF. -

all the while Nacho just. SEETHES in his corner. -

Manuel leaves and Lalo and Nacho start cleaning up the kitchen, and they’re very quiet until Nacho just goes “are you going to tell me what the hell all that was about?” and Lalo’s like “???” and Nacho’s just. “That little sing-and-dance you just did there? Like. What’s your end-game here. If this was some kind of attempt to get to me through my, dad, to, idk, somehow get emotional leverage over me, istg...!” And Lalo’s gets honestly serious and looks and Nacho all earnest-like... “man... is it really that hard to believe that it’s important to me that your dad likes me...?” and then he goes “you know what, Ignacio, you seem upset. Why don’t you just go home and leave the kitchen to me, yeah?” and so Nacho does, and he’s really angry at Lalo, and he doesn’t really get what just happened there. -

a couple days later his dad calls him and Nacho is kinda concerned but Manuel doesn’t pick up on it, he’s just like “Mijo, I just. Wanted to say how important that was to me, to meet your boyfriend, he’s a really nice y-...nice man.” (Nacho notices the gap where the “young” should have been lmao) and actually Manuel is trying to be like “Mijo, I am supportive of you please notice that I am trying to tell you that I think this is super okay!” but Nacho is so busy being confused cuz he’s never referred to Lalo as his boyfriend in his head even though they’ve been at this for over a year. So Nacho’s kinda monosyllabic and like “so. he didn’t upset you or anything?” and Manuel’s like “noo, he was really friendly. You didn’t give him a hard time, did you, Ignacio...??” Manuel gets all stern and fatherly...!! “Let me tell you one thing. Not a single one of your girlfriends has ever been this polite or interested in me. This man, he’s being serious about you. Maybe it’s time to stop being cautious.” -

and that’s when it starts to dawn on Nacho that that’s. Honestly all there is to it. Lalo wasn’t trying to manipulate him or whatever. He honestly just noticed that Manuel is an important part of Nacho’s life, and wanted to connect with that. And that is- actually. really sweet of him, what the fuck?!? -

Nacho lays awake again that night and notices that there’s something going on in his chest, like something big and warm blooming there and oh my fucking god you can’t be SERIOUS this is RIDICULOUS he’s way too old for this shit, AND way too worldly-wise and all that! -

So Nacho drives by Lalo’s place the other day and asks him whether he wants to go for a drink and so they go to a bar and sit there in silence for a moment until Nacho goes “my dad asked about you” and Lalo chuckles and is like “yeah? at least someone who misses me!” and Nacho rolls his eyes but he’s kinda got it coming now. Anyway, so, Nacho starts explaining that his dad is the most important person in his life, and he is soft and sweet and precious and a national treasure that must be protected at all costs and if someone was to hurt him and all that jazz. And Lalo’s like, yeah, no, I get it. Family is everything. And your dad is a really cool guy.  The problem is that for Nacho, it’s just been him and Manuel against the world for so long, he’s gotten kinda prickly about letting anyone else get close to his dad. But maybe this is good, and maybe, oh god he doesn’t really wanna think about it in that much detail, but like, Lalo gets it, and they leave the bar together and Lalo immediately gets out his phone and calls Manuel like “Sr. Varga, I’ve been wondering how you’ve been doing! What, Nachito? He’s doing fine. No, nooo, he’s not been mean at all. Couldn’t if he tried. Well, I hope you have a great evening. Yeah, talk to you soon!” and Lalo’s just absolutely obnoxious about this, winking at Nacho and everything and Nacho sighs and accepts his punishment. (Later Lalo’s gonna be like “of course you were right, I did have ulterior motives. I was just trying to butter you up for the dinner I have planned with my uncle Hector!” and Lalo keeps talking about how much he loves his tio and how he’s basically a father figure to him and such a great guy. But then they meet him and Lalo only introduces Nacho as “a friend”, and Hector is this grumpy old guy who hates absolutely everyone and everything, can’t go two sentences without being racist, sexist or homophobic. And Nacho’s like aaalright, guess I gotta deal with THIS now. But they don’t meet him that often so it’s alright.) -

OH but Manuel is still a BIT conservative about SOME things?? Like, he’s fine with Nacho having a boyfriend, but does he have to be so. you know. old...? Like. He’s not your sugar daddy, right Ignacio...? You’re not expecting him to keep you, right Ignacio...??? And Nacho is kinda pissy because UHM?? the implications?? He would never?? He’s nobody’s trophy boyfriend. He does like getting paraded around like one every now and then but he’s not. He buys his own damn stuff. But yeah sorry Nacho, that’s just how parents are sometimes lmao -

ANYWAY the point is, they. They care. Nacho cares Lalo. And seeks out his company on his own accord without any outside influences forcing him to. And Lalo cares Nacho. And they kinda start to accept that this is. a thing. And Nacho learns to accept that he can let himself feel save and comfortable around Lalo. And they’re just regular ass boyfriends. Who go on vacation together. Who have just fantastic sex without any coercion or backstabbing involved. Who fall asleep on the couch watching movies together. Who celebrate each other’s birthdays. All that freaky shit!!! 😭😭😭

[squirenonny]

How do you feel about Entrapta in She-Ra being canonically autistic?

I haven’t heard about it being canon, but I’m all for the headcanon! Entrapta and Scorpia are probably my two favorite characters from She-Ra, and two of my strongest autistic headcanons. (Though… honestly I can make an argument for almost every character being autistic, and at the very least hc Entrapta, Scorpia, Bow, Adora, Frosta, and Seahawk as autistic. Fight me.)

I’ve recently become aware that some people are NOT fans of how Entrapta is handled in the show. And, look, I’m not really all that involved in the fandom, so I can’t counter point by point, but the main argument I’ve seen is that Entrapta is evil/a villain without a complex and sympathetic reason for being so? So, I guess have some thoughts on why that argument doesn’t fly with me under the cut. (Spoilers for season 4.)

Okay, to start off with… I don’t know. I guess the fact that I see half the cast as autistic means that it doesn’t bother me to have some of the antagonists also be autistic, especially when, I mean, lets be real. Who in this show is actually unsympathetic? Shadow Weaver, maybe, and…. Horde Prime? I guess?? I have actually, literally said, “Poor Hordak,” unironically, at several points over the course of the show, so not even the primary antagonist for the first 4 seasons is totally unsympathetic. The people under his command certainly aren’t. Hell, Light Hope was literally actively trying to do something that would utterly destroy the planet, and even she isn’t portrayed as actually evil.

My point is, She-Ra is great about shades of gray. Good guys do bad things, bad guys can be great friends. It’s clear which side is in the right–I’m not going to say that the Horde is in any way righteous and noble–but that doesn’t mean that the characters themselves are pure good and pure evil. It’s not that simple. So I reject the first part of the argument, that Entrapta is evil/a villain. She joined the Horde. She helped Hordak’s conquest and may have gotten people killed–was at least willing to do so. The same can be said of Catra, Scorpia, Adora, Double Trouble, and every other named character from the Horde. Several of them have actually gloated about their victories in battle–about, we can assume, the people they’ve killed–where Entrapta is, at worst, indifferent to the potential victims of her work. The fact that these characters do, or have done, bad things doesn’t make them irredeemable.

As to her motivations? I’m honestly disappointed in how many times I’ve seen Entrapta’s motivations reduced to “she’s naive”/”she got tricked”/”she just likes science and doesn’t care about people.” Um??? Okay, I get that her motivations aren’t spelled out as clearly as Catra and Scorpia’s have been. She doesn’t show her hurt plainly. That’s… that’s kinda part of why I identify with her, folks. She has a flat affect. She doesn’t communicate well, verbally or nonverbally. She doesn’t get people, and she doesn’t always want to try. And she’s been abandoned. It might seem like it was way too easy for Catra to trick her into believing she’d been abandoned, but– people. Entrapta lived alone in a huge castle/city/fortress with a bunch of robots and THREE servants. That’s… That doesn’t just happen. How many times has Entrapta been abandoned before? How many people have turned their backs on her? How many people did she consider friends who betrayed her, walked out on her, or just turned out not to care as much as she did? Either her entire kingdom abandoned her or she left and only THREE people followed. It’s easy for her to believe the other princesses abandoned her, because to her, that is what social interaction is. It’s her thinking she belongs somewhere only to find out the other people were laughing at her behind her back.

Maybe she’s buried her head in the sand about the war. Maybe she should be more aware of what the Horde is and why it’s bad. But people have hurt her before, so she’s chosen to care about robots, about science, and about her projects rather than about people. So, yes, she joins the Horde. Unlike the princesses, they seem like they might actually value her–for her scientific prowess, if nothing else. Yes, she builds them weapons. Some part of her still  wants to belong, and this is how she does that. (She’s certainly not going to belong, here or anywhere, by just being a fun and kind human being. She’s useful, and so she’s valued. As soon as she stops being useful, she’s going to be discarded. And she just so happens to enjoy figuring out First Ones tech, so it’s win-win, really.) And, no, she doesn’t particularly care about the people she’s going to hurt. Why should she? They never cared about her.

(I’m not saying that any of this was right, that Entrapta wasn’t a bad guy while she was with the Horde. But I am saying it’s reductivist to say her only motive was, ‘ooh, shiny,’ and that she’s just plain evil.)

Think about how many times Entrapta has gone quiet, pulled her mask down over her face, turned back to her work and ignored people talking to her, pleading with her, trying to be her friend. Think about Entrapta on Beast Island, giving into the apathy because if she’s here, she can’t be abandoned. She’s hurting, and she’s afraid to trust, and yes, that makes her moral compass skew more toward “I’m going to have fun and make myself valuable to these few people who kind of like me right now” than, like, valuing human life and other markers on the “good” scale. She’s squarely chaotic neutral on the alignment chart. But she cares about her friends, and she doesn’t want to cause senseless violence–she wants to warn Hordak about the portal thing, because if it’s not working properly it’s not going to help him.

Entrapta is an incredibly complex character–and an incredibly sympathetic one. You need to pay more attention to her than to people like Scorpia who monologue about their feelings, or like Catra and the Best Friend Squad who get so much screen time. But that doesn’t mean she’s a shallow character, or a harmful stereotype. There is so much about Entrapta that I identify with. Her loneliness, her pain, her enthusiasm for her special interests, her uncertainty, her longing to fit in, her self-imposed isolation, even her self-centeredness. She is flawed and sometimes misguided, but she is so real. If I’m willing to forgive Catra and Scorpia for leading the Horde’s armies and carrying out terrorist attacks, Double Trouble for spying and sabotage, Glimmer for activating the Heart of Etheria–and I am willing to forgive all of those things, because when it comes down to it, I just don’t believe any of them are fundamentally bad people–then I’m certainly not going to damn Entrapta for building weapons for the Horde. This show is about friendship, family, and forgiveness, and Entrapta is sorely in need of all three, and damn do I want to see her get that!

In the end, you can decide that Entrapta’s reasons for aligning herself with Hordak aren’t enough to outweigh the things she did to help him. That’s fair. You don’t need to love her, or even like her. But I take issue with the argument that she doesn’t have reasons for doing what she did. She is a great, well-written character, and as an autistic person, I love her so much.

[bitway-arts]

title: What a Party characters: yuusaku, ryoken, aoi pairing: slight datastormshipping summary: Aoi invites Yuusaku to a party hosted by SOL. He doesn't want to be there, but maybe someone will turn his night around. {AU}

"Thanks for coming with me, Yuusaku.

"Don't mention it."

The boy gulped as he looked ahead, already dreading the event. Yuusaku was not one to be found in large social gatherings. He didn't like the crowds, the stuffy feeling, the forced conversations. Everything about it made him shudder to the mere thought. You'd never catch him at a formal, upper class, business like party setting. Ever.

Until tonight.

"You could have denied coming with me, you know?"

"Hm."

He knows. He's very aware that he could have denied Aoi's request. That he could be home and enjoying the night on his own or with Kusanagi. It was either logging into Vrains or helping his friend hack. Either one was a very tame activity compared to…a party.

But, this was a personal request from Aoi. She had asked him to come to SOL Technology's business party with her. It was more of a request from her brother, he found out. He wanted his sister to have someone to be with here. And Yuusaku was the ideal candidate.

Like him, she hardly spoke with others. Sure she was kind but didn't have many she would be able to call friends. Yuusaku was the closest person she could think of aside from their other mutual friend; Naoki. And while that boy might enjoy a night like this more than the two of them combined, he wasn't the type who could fit in at a party like this.

The boy hears a sigh come from Aoi and he glances over to the girl. She wore a white dress tied with a blue ribbon around her waist, another resting on her chest. Meanwhile, he was put into a suit that was almost identical to his school uniform. The only difference was this one was suffocating as it was passed down from Kusanagi and didn't quite fit.

Their eyes meet and he could see the apologies in her gaze already. It's his turn to sigh, not wanting her to let doubts plague her mind.

"Let's go in."

With a nod, they turn to the door. Yuusaku steps forward, pushing the door open and letting her follow in. Inside, the banquet hall is filled with a bunch of older folks. Most were in tuxedos and fancy, yet revealing enough dresses. It was something he would expect to see from a business party.

And he already hated it.

The amount of people filling this room was nauseating. All the chattering smell of alcohol wasn't something he was used to being around. If only he could turn back now.

A hand comes into his vision. He looks to it. Aoi was holding it out for him to take. Normally he'd decline, but…he takes it. Just this once. Holding her hand put him at ease. Not too much, but it was better than before.

The two walk deeper into the party, heads turning to see what else could be here. There was a food table and Yuusaku hoped that it offered something non-alcoholic here. Maybe they could go and grab something there.

"Akira!"

Or not.

Aoi had spotted her brother and a smile had lit her face. Without thinking, she begins to drag Yuusaku along with her towards him. She only releases his hand when they had stopped before him.

"Aoi," Zaizen smiles softly. "You're here. I'm sorry I couldn't meet you at the door." He looks down for a moment before looking to her partner. "And this is Yuusaku, correct?"

"Yes. My classmate."

"I'm glad to see you came along with her. Thank you for coming."

"Yeah…It's no problem."

Yuusaku didn't know what to say. He was't one for talking and being truthful in this moment didn't seem quite right. He'd play the part of the friend that was (somewhat) happy to be here.

"I know it's a little different from parties you should be going at around your age," Zaizen starts. "But, I hope you can enjoy the night."

"We will!" Aoi chirps.

"Zaizen! Zaizen!" A woman calls out for him. A young one with brown, wavy hair, blue eyes, and a navy blue dress. "I didn't mean to leave your side- oh, is this your sister?"

"It's alright, Hayami. And yes, this is Aoi, my sister."

Aoi gives the girl a smile and Yuusaku can already feel that he's going to have to introduce himself to more people. He takes in a breath, ready to speak before Aoi steps in front of him. She gives him a look and with a hand behind her back, urges him to go. While she had dragged him to this party, she never meant to drag him into endless chit chat.

Yuusaku doesn't hesitate taking this hint. He gives a slight nod to her before taking off. And, surprisingly, it's so easy to slip away in this crowd of people. He feels a bit guilty for leaving her, but that was something she was more accustomed to. She could handle the adult, business like chatter. He couldn't.

For now, he decides to try and make his way to the food table. No one approaches him and he's very thankful for that. People might wonder who he is, but as long as no one spoke to him, he would be happy. It would make his night that much easier to handle.

At the food table, nothing really catches his eye. He'd eaten a hot dog earlier thanks to Kusanagi's warnings about fancy dinners and how daunting they could be. As the food had failed him, that left him with only one more option. Wait until Aoi met up with him so he could enjoy the night a little better.

"Hey, you're one of little Zaizen's friends, aren't you?"

Yuusaku frowns as he hears a feminine voice beside him. He doesn't bother to look to address her, hoping that she would leave him alone. But, of course, business folks like to make connections in any and all forms.

"I saw you come in with her. So, you must know the older Zaizen to, right?"

Whatever is said after that, the boy drowns her out. He could care less about what she really wanted from him. Honestly, it was a futile effort. He'd only met Zaizen today and barely spoken to him. She'd have a better chance with speaking to someone else at this party if she wanted to connect to him.

"I won't bother you much longer." Was she starting to get the message? God, he hoped so. "I just want to ask-"

"Pardon me," another voice interrupts. Yuusaku turns his head slightly, catching sight of this stranger. He could only see him from behind, his white hair and a touch of purple highlights as he wore a white tuxedo. "You seem to have him confused with someone else. He came with me."

The woman wears a confused look, surprised that he had just strolled up to them and uttered this blatant lie to her face. She inhaled, ready to give her response back, but she was silenced with a single glare.

"Sorry…" Her head dips and she turns, leaving the two alone.

"You're welcome."

"I didn't ask for your help."

The man smirks. "Would you have preferred being hounded by her and others thanks to entering with Zaizen's sister?"

Yuusaku falls quiet. A part of him was thankfully, truly, he was. But he disliked feeling like he had to pay a debt to him.

"No…"

He turns to face Yuusaku and now he can get a better look at the stranger who helped him. He was a bit taller than him, had fair skin, and shimmering blue eyes. And…

"Have we met before?"

He doesn't answer him, only holding out a hand for Yuusaku to take.

"I won't ask you for a dance. You don't seem the type."

He can see the wariness in his gaze and how he even inched back. It seemed that the boy disliked strangers.

"Trust me."

"Why should I?"

"Three reasons. One, if you're with me no one will bother you. Two, I have no interest in your alliance with either Zaizen. Three, I know a place that would allow us to breathe."

Yuusaku's eyes had gone wide. Not only had it all seemed to good to be true, but that use of three reasons. He used it to. It was something told to him long ago…he thinks. He couldn't quite remember, but he knew it was special and hearing it come from someone else was odd yet made him curious.

Perhaps that's why he'd decided to slip his hand into his. The man smiles before leading him through the crowd. Yuusaku was surprised by how many people moved out of his path. In no time at all, they had made it to the end of the room, standing before a pair of double doors. The man had pushed it open, ushering Yuusaku to go in first.

As he walked out, he was greeted with a light breeze against his cheek. He blinked as his eyes adjusted from that artificial light to the moonlit glow. They were now outside on a private balcony. The sound of chattering disappearing behind them as the doors shut. Yuusaku took in a breath of fresh air, feeling more relaxed then he ever did.

Their hands are separated as the stranger walks ahead. He rests upon the rails of the balcony, gaze looking out over the scenery of the city. Yuusaku does the same.

Except he tilts his gaze up to the night sky instead. It was a rather pretty night. No cloud in sight, only stars shining with a crescent moon amongst them. Even if he was the type to prefer being indoors, he could appreciate nights like this.

"The stars are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

For once, he feels like he should have tried keeping the conversation going. It's not like he was disinterested in this stranger like the others. But, starting conversations was difficult. Still, he could try.

"Why'd you lead me out here?"

"To get away from the crowd." He replied with a shrug. "I'm not one for social parties like these. I dislike the fake pleasantries and poor attempts at social connections."

"You said no one would bother you though." He hears the man snicker. "Why come then?"

"Family business. I only came to show up, nothing more."

Yuusaku gives a hum in response. He didn't know big named folks. He's certain if the name Zaizen wasn't tied to Vrains, or Aoi, he wouldn't even know it. He wouldn't even be able to guess who this guy was or even if his name was attached to something in SOL Tech.

"Is that why you decided to use me as a way to escape?"

The man gave a slight chuckle to his question. He hadn't heard anything like that before.

"I think I'd prefer a kindred spirit than the plus one I brought." The man rolls his eyes. He then pushes himself off the railings, hands still on them as he stands tall. His head turns, looking too Yuusaku. "Why are you here? I assume it was for Zaizen's sister?"

"She's…my friend. She asked me to come along."

"How kind of you."

Yuusaku nearly expects more probing questions about his relationship to Aoi, but they never come. He was true to his word about not having an interest in the Zaizen siblings.

With that, they fall into silence. And it's a strange type of silence. One that isn't fully awkward but one that isn't too peaceful either. He does feel as if he should be trying to talk more, but maybe that's due to being in a party setting. If it weren't for that nagging at him, Yuusaku thinks he could enjoy the stranger's presence.

He glances over to him again, curious. He finds the man's gaze focused on the stars now. A familiar feeling comes up again. He isn't sure why and hates that he can't place it. Maybe he's imagining things. Maybe not. He'd go with the latter. He knows him.

"You're staring at me."

Yuusaku blinks, unaware that he had been for a while. His head turns, cheeks turning pink. He'd find something else to stare at. There was the city, the sky, and even the ocean. Which was glowing tonight. Not all of it, just a portion of it.

"You can see it from here."

"Hm?" The man looks over. "Stardust Road?"

"It's glowing tonight."

"It's better seen up close."

"I've only seen it up close once."

The memory was hazy but he's certain that he's seen it when he was younger. A kid had led the way and showed it to him. As pretty as the sight was, it wasn't something that stuck in his memories. And even as he tried to recapture the sight, his timing was poor.

"If leaving this party was easy, I could take you there. I think it's something that everyone should see. More than once."

"There'd be too many people there."

"Less than you think." He smirks. "Would you like to disappear with me tonight?"

Yuusaku turned to see if he was serious. He was. The thought of leaving this wretched party was very tempting. He'd love to disappear, to not go back into that crowded and stuffy room and force himself to speak with others. But there was one reason he had to stay.

"I can't."

"Staying for your girlfriend?"

"She's my friend."

"You have a good heart. Don't ever change." He smiles softly and something about it warms Yuusaku's chest.

The smile doesn't last long once he hears the doors behind them open.

"Ryoken!" A man excitedly chirps out his name. "Found you!"

"Spectre." The man- Ryoken turns to face the other. Yuusaku managed to catch a hint of annoyance on his face before he did.

"Genome was looking for you. I told him I could find you." Spectre pauses as he looks over to Yuusaku. "Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No. Go on, I'll be there shortly."

"Of course, Ryoken." The other man bows before departing, but not after staring at Yuusaku for a while. It was rather unsettling how his gaze lingered on him.

"Don't mind him." Ryoken said as if he could see the unease on his face. "Anyway, I hope we can meet again, Yuusaku."

"How did you-"

Ryoken takes the boy's hand in his, raising it to gently brush his lips against his knuckles. It's a soft and tender touch that lasts seconds. It makes the boy's cheeks flush a dark red.

"If you want to meet once more, come to Stardust Road the next time it shines. I'll be waiting for you."

With a small smile, he turns to leave. Yuusaku watches him head back inside, eyes still staring at the doors even once they've closed. A hand is placed over his chest to feel his racing heartbeat.

He wasn't sure what happened tonight. But he was certain that he would like to meet him again.

[asianjeremyheere]

happy one month anniversary to the bmc obcr!!! to celebrate, im gonna put my track-by-track commentary under the cut and split into two parts (act 2 here) because god it got so long and i am. very sorry. read at ur own risk. and it really is just rambling commentary because i had a gdoc out and the whole soundtrack playing, alternating obcr and ocr tracks SO! tada! act 1!

JEREMY'S THEME

Okay the orchestrations are great on both BUT I do prefer how much more sudden the end is on the ocr? Obcr Jeremy's theme kind of has that echoey quality at the end and I'm pretty sure it's just a recording thing but. Recording-wise I do kind of prefer the ocr. That said, I don't listen to Jeremy's theme THAT much.

MORE THAN SURVIVE

90% of this is going to be me preferring the obcr and this is no exception BUT I do like the ocr tempo a little more? It's faster and feels like it captures the whole day-at-school rush a little better, which works in most of the song except during the "Christiiiiine" portions because those are absolutely KILLER when they're a little slower. They sound more romantic, in a way?? Like it goes from Jeremy seeing her, a girl whom he likes and wants to point out to Michawl, to Jeremy seeing her and being totally enraptured/distracted by her, hence the slower/more drawn out Christiiiiine's working in its favor. Also would have like Michael's verse to be faster? I've always imagined him to be, like. A fast talker. I don't really care about how much George changed his voice for it, I just wish it was faster. But overall, I like it better on the obcr because Will R is waaay more emotive and I'm in love with his falsetto and his runs.

I LOVE PLAY REHEARSAL

I know I said I was terrible at recognizing tempo but ILPR feels so fast on the ocr??? Anyway I like the obcr version better and Stephanie is adorable in both but MORE so in the obcr. Her inflections have so much more character and she paints a much clearer picture of Christine as a whole just in that one song. ALSO the added dialogue!!!! Love that. It's also got a less consistent tempo (I think????) which works for a song like this and a character like Christine

MORE THAN SURVIVE REPRISE

This isnt on the ocr but it was in the original show and I got it stuck in my head all the fucking time so I'm just glad it got recorded!! I don't have a Two River audio on hand rn but I like the bway version better anyway because Will R is, again, more emotive and I think it works better with this specific iteration of Jeremy anyways? Like. His whole character is sadder so this song fits a little better.

THE SQUIP SONG

Ngl I can't really tell the difference between the two but Gerard's voice has only had time to improve (I hope? He seems to do a lot of stuff when he's not doing a show and I wonder if he's like. Taking care of his voice. I hope so?) and I love the new glitchy stuff at the end. But like rip the "picture this" verse :( I think I just. Like them both pretty equally??

TWO PLAYER GAME

Obcr babey!!! I like the way a bunch of the instruments cut out and it's just the 8-bit stuff right at the start? That's fun as fuck. Also Will R's "ah! gah!" noises are 💜💙💜❤💖💙🧡💙. The orchestrations in the obcr are also just. God tier. And the tech-y fade out sound at the end is one of my favorite things. Also George's voice is the same pitch but he sounds younger in the obcr and that's not good or bad because he still sounds convincing enough to be a high school either way.

THE SQUIP ENTERS

Okay I like the obcr for this better too just because there's more in it. It isn't just Jeremy screaming for a minute and a half, they also added the dialogue which makes it better. I don't actually really like this song as much on the ocr just because I did. Not enjoy listening to a song that was basically just screaming? It's too loud and I was always worried about people hearing it through my headphones skdjks. The obcr version isn't much better screaming-wise but I can't just straight up skip it anymore because there's stuff at the end. Plus they have a bigger budget for effects and the transition from the startup-Squip voice to Jason Tam's voice where they're doubled up? God. I love him.

BE MORE CHILL, PT. 1

Obcr wins this just for the 'outdated' riff alone. Also, Jeremy sounds more intimidated/impressionable?? WPC Jeremy doesn't sound scared of the Squip/sounds borderline rebellious right off the bat, which is weird considering EWM is allegedly the 'more evil one' 🤔🤔🤔🤔. Plus I think the obcr has more harmonies and Will R's comedic timing during the Squip Tango is spot-on. AND KATLYN!! Yeah. Love her. She's so much more intense in the obcr and it works for Chloe??? She just sounds more passive in the ocr. That said, Jason should have sung more because his voice…… pwetty

DO YOU WANNA RIDE

The obcr ending has my heart…. the pinkberry riff….. the giggle and "au revoir"........ I am in love with Brooke Lohst. I don't really mind that it's slower either? But I can't hear the trombone shot notes as well on the obcr and that makes me sad :( Charlie Rosen ur orchestrations are gold but dont drown out the trombone that was my favorite part of ocr dywr!!!!!

BE MORE CHILL, PT. 2

Jason Tam's Squip voice is good you guys are just mean and don't understand nuance!!!!!!! I love the obcr version of this because a) Jason!!!!!! b) Will!!!!!!!! and c) Tiffany's high note at the end!!!!!!!!! Also the gong!!!!!

For real though? Will R. is much more expressive in the repeat-after-me section and Jason Tam's cooler, more laid-back tone works. I'm more inclined to trust that he can actually help me because he sounds more guiding than demanding and I, personally, don't respond well to people exercising their authority over me! I do much better when things are phrased like "I'm going to help you! Here are some suggestions. Do them. Look, it's working!" vs "Do what I say, it's the only way you'll succeed" and to have the Squip start out sounding more like the former before getting more outwardly controlling works better and makes more sense imo!

MORE THAN SURVIVE REPRISE/SYNC UP

Okay I can't really compare these two because they're totally different songs at this point but I love Sync Up and I can compare that end portion because it's the same! 'Head to play rehearsal' > 'drama practice' because it's not a huge difference but he's parroting Christine's terminology and it shows that he's listening to her, which Mr. Will Roland himself said was a huge part of Jeremy's journey! (Learning to listen.) Also, Will R just sounds more eager and excited to actually be included? Will C just sounds like he's relieved that he's not being shoved around. Will R!Jeremy sounds more excited in general, even at the beginning before he gets shocked. And then his “ghughgh” noise. Mood, Will. The Squip at this part is kind of. Hmm. I don’t really like it in the recorder version ngl but I know Jason talked about like. Struggling a little more to get into the Squip mindset during the recording process because the costumes are so integral to his characterization and he didn’t have said costumes for the obcr recording so I’ll give him a pass. It doesn’t faze me as much in audios so??? Jason Tam u get a pass.

A GUY THAT I'D KINDA BE INTO

The obcr recorders make me ❤💗💖💕💖💕💙💘🧡💘🧡❤💕❤💕💙💜💖❤!!!! Also I prefer the new ending where she goes "Who kneeeeeeeeeew?" and how surprised/thrilled Will R!Jeremy sounds when he says "Is she talking about me?" but like…. Jason Tam, I will defend your Squip voice to my dying day but why did you have to say "pheromones" like that. Okay also I'm listening to each song's versions back-to-back and the tempo changes keep throwing me off. But I do appreciate the lack of clapping in the ocr.

THE SQUIP LURKS/THE SQUIP STALKS

Obcr wins because its an instrumental and I love the bway instrumental. Also, it's longer and spookier. Thank you, Charlie Rosen. You deserved a Tony nom for this shit.

UPGRADE

I'm gonna say right off the bat that I love obcr Upgrade so much because of the additional depth given to Brooke and Jake, and I love the new ending because like woah chills. That's all. It's not a disclaimer or anything, I just love it. Also, Stephanie's "oh wow"? Cute as fuck!!! Britton's voice??? God tier!!!!!! Brooke's french at the start and the way Lauren's voice breaks on "I just want someone to see me first"??? God!!!!!!!! Tiffany coming in by herself before everyone else joins in during that layered section??? I am deceased. I love trying to pick out every individual person's voice in that section. Usually Gerard, Lauren, and Will are easiest for me to pinpoint? Idk. Ocr Upgrade still fucking slaps though. Steph's "oh wow" is a little more underwhelming but I'm like. In love with the tempo right before the "Christiiiine"s? Also uhhh wish they'd included Jeremy and Michael's conversation somewhere in the obcr.

LOSER GEEK WHATEVER

I love LGW and I'll stand by this forever. I'm gonna compare this to the end of ocr Upgrade because that's technically where it goes and I think it does a better job of showing Jeremy's motivations and his worries about taking the Squip! Also it makes sense story-wise that he would take time to slow it down and think/process considering he just…. asked the Squip for time to process….. but like the original ending is still a bop and it's super good for like. Hyping urself up. I just think LGW does better for Jeremy's character and it's a good song!!! It sums up a lot of what I feel/the ways I relate to Jeremy, too, so it's. Emotional hearing it in audios skdjsj but not as much with the recording anymore!!

[drkoestersmithrpg]

JUST FOR YOU

“I’m sorry it got so loud.  But god Tony, I’ve never felt like …. no one’s ever done that to me before.”

“Hmmmm….I enjoyed it to. But I must admit, I do miss having your legs wrapped around me.”

“We can do it that way next time,” Peter said, grinning.  “We can alternate.  Split the difference.”  

He closed his eyes and pressed close, grinning from ear to ear.  This had gone so much better than he could have ever hoped.  He had gotten Tony in bed, had just received the fucking of his life, and now, more surprising than anything else, he was laying sleepily in his lover’s arms and it was everything.

Tony, on the other hand, was still analyzing.  “Ummmm….” he hummed to himself, thinking, still stroking the back of Peter’s head, keeping him close.  “So, all of your guy-friends, are you saying no one’s….no one’s topped the mighty Peter Parker??”

“I’m not saying that.”  Peter opened his eyes and lifted his head enough to let Tony him him roll them, then snuggled further into Tony’s embrace.  If he was going to be forced to have this conversation again, he was at least getting to enjoy it.

“No, no, I want details,” Tony was saying for the umpteenth billion time, and Peter knew he only had himself to blame.  He HAD pushed their late-night tech-talks into this intimate territory – it WAS his bragging about his extracurricular activities with his male co-eds that was the beginning of his seduction of one Tony Stark.  So whose fault was it that this was one of Tony’s favorite subjects?

“I told you, mostly guys want me to do the honors….”

“And did you like that?”

“Oh yeah it felt good, it felt great.  I was pretty sure … yeah…this is what I’m supposed to be doing.  And I mean, I mean everyone who I was with was asking me.  So it started to just make sense.  But then…”

“But then when someone else asked to do the honors?  Did anyone get to pound you from behind?  I thought you told me that crowd was a bunch of geniuses.  How are you telling me that of all those geniuses, every one of them turned down the opportunity to pound that sweet ass?”

“They’re not…..it wasn’t……” he said, punching Tony in the arm ineffectually.  “They aren’t the ‘pound that sweet ass’ types Tony.   They’re more like, we’re all like….we’re all shy geniuses.  So when people asked … I mean….I mean when guys asked….

“No…see….I….tended to take the lead in these things,” Peter said.  He was starting to blush furiously against Tony’s shirt, but still pushing forward, needing to be understood.    “So I’m like, you should just lie on your back. And they would lay on their backs and I would … take it from above.  That’s how I had giving it to everyone else…. that’s the most logical position.  The person on top controls everything, so if you’re taking a dick for the first time or the second or third time that – that just works best.”

“So that’s the way you took it every time.”

“Yeah…. ok.  I guess I just like to be in control.  It worked out well for everybody.  I mean you just ride them and they close their eyes and think about someone else and enjoy it.  It always felt good when someone else did it to me.  And getting it done to me felt even better than doing it. But nothing…”

He sat up a little to touch Tony’s face.

“No one ever made me feel like that.  I don’t ……I have no idea where all that noise came from…but god Tony that was amazing.”

“Well, as honored as I am to be the first one to hear Peter Parker make those noises, it appears that’s because I’m the only one to be brave enough to give you a good pounding from behind…” he said dismissively, and started to rise from the bed, but was surprised to find himself thrown back down and pinned to the bed by the same Peter Parker, first by his shirt, then by his shoulder.

“SHUT UP…..will you just stop it?”  Peter growled (reveling, for just a moment, in the fact that he was fulfilling a very old fantasy of using his superior strength to pin Tony Stark to the bed and hold him down while he confessed his true feelings.  Only problem was, now that they were there, there was nothing but a very startled look from Tony, and Peter, stumbling over his words as usual.)

“This is real. Tony can you please just … I need … you’ve got to … “

Peter gave up and brought their foreheads together again.  This seemed to be the best position for talking, and so he stayed there (while still forcibly holding Tony in place.)

“Tony I need this. For godssake I’m a grown man dressing up as a freaking spider and returning stolen bicycles.   I get to watch you and New-Bruce and Steve talking and the world using your real names and me – I stuck standing on the side with the guy who dresses up like a Panther.  I’m a secret, and it’s driving me nuts.  I always thought it would get better after I left highschool but I don’t see how college is going to be any easier.  Pretending I don’t know how Thanos really died, pretending that I don’t know you invented time travel just to … just to get me back…”

He was crying again dammit. Tony tried to reach around his arm to stroke his face again and Peter had to separate their foreheads to shake him off.

“Nothing is real.  I dress up in a leotard to pester car-thieves, but that’s not really me.  Then I dress up like Peter Parker and I hawk set-up pics to a newspaper where they think Spiderman is some kind of vigilante badguy, and I just stand there and look stupid and that’s not really me, either.  This double-life it – it’s just exhausting.  I need something real, Tony.  I need this.  I need you.

“And I meant everything I said before…texted before.  I don’t care if this implodes in 20 days or 20 weeks or 20 years.  Neither one of us may be alive by then.  I need to live in the moment.  We need to live in the moment.  So spare me this ‘It’s just because no one ever did this to you before’ bullshit you egotistical bastard…”

He was losing his steam, not to mention his grip on Tony’s shoulder AND his ability to form sentences. What he was feeling he couldn’t even explain to himself – how was he going to explain it to this guy?

He straddled the man and put his hands on both sides of his chest.  He took two fistfuls of Tony’s shirt and tried gesturing with them, only to find he had run out of words.  He tried to bring their foreheads together again but wound up laying his head on the bed next to Tony’s – this secret required closer contact.

“You made me scream while you were fucking me because that was EPIC,” he whispered.  “Because you are Tony Stark.  Because we are supposed to be together.  Ironman and Spiderman.  We’re legendary.  Don’t try to pretend that it was anything else.”

Tony was smiling, and that should have been a good sign, but then he was laughing and suddenly Peter was rethinking that I’ve-only-want-to-haul-up-and-punch-my-lover-on-occasions philosophy.  Point fact he wanted to punch someone right now.  He sat up and shook the man, demanding an explanation.

“Its….yes….no I’m sorry.  “It’s serious, isn’t it?  But kid listen to yourself,” Tony said, taking Peter’s wrists in both hands and trying to get himself under control.  “In 20 years? In 20 years I’m going to be 75, and you won’t even been pushing 40.  Where do you think it’s going to go from there, honestly?  

“What you’re suggesting is ridiculous and you’re the only one who can’t see it.  When the others find out they are going to laugh at us, and for a good reason.  You’re getting the short end of the stick….”

With that he knocked both Peter’s arms away and sat up suddenly, grabbing Peter’s face in both hands and bringing him close.

“And you’re the only one who hasn’t figure that out,” he growled against Peter’s mouth.  “And if I were a good guy, Peter, I’d tell you ‘no.’ That’s the part you just don’t get. I.  Am not.  The good guy. I’m a selfish asshole.  That’s why I’m not telling you ‘no’.”

He punctuated that last sentence with a brutal kiss and Peter did not resist.  Nor did Peter resist when Tony flipped them both over and pushed Peter’s knee down to the bed (Peter’s dancer-like flexibility made this position completely painless) and began bucking his hips forward, rubbing his awakening cock between Peter’s legs in a parody of what they had been doing moments before.

And very soon it was no longer a parody.  “Yes, Tony, do it….” Peter was murmuring when his lover finally released him from the kiss and in a few moments Tony was inside him again.

“Does it hurt baby?” Tony was asking and Peter enjoyed a little inappropriate laugh of his own.  “I told you old man, you can’t hurt me. Like the skin on arm or the skin on my face, you can’t hurt it.  You can do this to me all…. Night…. long.”

He enjoyed the wicked grin on his own face and enjoyed it even more when Tony tried to kiss it away. He wrapped his legs around the older man (and enjoyed the appreciative noises that ensued.)  He tilted his hips up until his heels were in the middle of Tony’s shoulderblades and found the noises that this resulted in entirely enjoyable.

He was about to make a comment about Tony was now being the loud one when the man pulled up to look him in the face ask breathlessly, “What were their names?”

“???” was all Peter could manage until Tony, never slowing his pace, leaned over and growled in his ear “Their names.  The names of the boys who fucked you before I did.  The boys that couldn’t make you make that noise.  I want to know their names.”

“Jesus Tony,” Peter tried to argue, but now the man was staring him down, keeping his gaze steady as he rocked into his body.

“Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind, little boy,” Tony growled while he pounded.  “You wanted me, now you have me.  And I want names.  You tell me who got <b>here</b> first.”

Peter turned his head away in anger and frustration.  ‘Little boy’ stung, Tony hadn’t used that hateful phrase since before they had started fucking.  Then he made a quick calculation and decided to comply.

“First there was Luke,” he said, flinging one hand out to the bed and fisting the cover and focusing all his senses on the picture that made – it was very much like the first days before he had discovered he could shut out the constant input his brain was giving him by putting on the dark glasses.  Honing in on the fisted bedcover Peter managed to forget about Tony’s cock pounding into him, forget about the incredible noises the man made when he dug his heel in-between the shoulder blades…

“Yeah, Luke was first. Everybody else kept asking me to do it to them.  Luke-With-A-Beard was the first to do it to me, I never did it with Other Luke.  Next came Ashley and then Percival, no wait, Ashley and did it several times, like we kept doing each other several times, THEN came Percival.  And I did it for one of the Simons but I don’t remember which one.”

He let go of the cover and turned his head back to the man on top of him with a triumphant grin.  He had taken Tony’s challenge and matched it and, now that he had finished with the *actual* list of lovers, began to improvise.

“And I did it with both Paul’s,” he whispered, canting his hips even further upward by walking his heels even higher up Tony’s body.  Right now he was more thankful for his spider-bite powers than ever before.

“Gay Paul and Poleaxe Paul,” he lied freely, pressing one heel above the other until he finally had one pressing into Tony’s neck.  “Together, they took turns with me.  But I don’t count them because they only came for each other, yes Tony….”

The sounds Tony was making now were most satisfying and Peter held on to Tony’s head, first with both feet and then with his hands.  “Yes…. it’s perfect….. ah god Tony…”

Wrapping both arms and both legs around his lover Peter listened closely to the unique sounds his lover was making and wondered if this had been what it was like for Tony just moments before.  Although their positions had been comparable to some encounters on countertops Tony had never made noises quite like this and Peter treasured every one of them. At the same time Peter had to, reluctantly, admit that it had been the angle after all – this position was inspiring zero noises out of him personally.

[crashdevlin]

Holidays, not Holy-Days

Red Queen Chronicles Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Two of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: Cassie Campbell brings her teammates and friends together for her first ever Christmas dinner. 2 aliens, an atheist, her boyfriend's ex-wife, her ex-boyfriend and an all-American lab rat worried about her mental health. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 8148

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Clint Barton x OFC, 

Story Warnings: 18+, HERE BE SEX!!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, kitchen sex, protected vaginal sex, oral sex (fem rec), identity issues, panic attack,

"Because, Clint, I know that at least two of us, probably three, have never had a Christmas dinner and Wanda hasn't had one since she was orphaned. You guys are my family and I really want everyone here. I've got this big old house to myself and I don't want that on Christmas. I know Nat's not busy. You're retired. You can't say 'no'."

"What about Laur-"

"I asked Laura. She wanted nothing to do with it. Apparently, she and the kids don't leave the house much around Christmas just in case Barney comes home. I think that's probably a real depressing place to be if he doesn't show, so come to Washington. Spend Christmas with your girlfriend and your friends."

Static came through the phone as Clint sighed. "Who is gonna be there?"

"Well, Pepper confirmed for her and Tony, but I'm gonna double check with him. I think I've caught Thor's attention, or at least Heimdall's, so I'll hear from him soon. I sent Steve a paper invite via snail mail a week ago, so I'm gonna call to see if he got it. Wanda and Vision both confirmed and Sam said he has to see what's going on with his family, but he would probably stop by. I'm gonna call Phil after I get off with you, invite him and his people."

"You gonna have enough food for all those people?"

"I'm making a goose, a turkey, and a ham, three kinds of potatoes, four casseroles, homemade rolls, store-bought rolls, cranberry sauce from scratch and 6 different kinds of pie. I have a chart to make sure everything is ready at the same time. I got this. Now, I just need you."

"Oh, tug at my heartstrings. Fine. I confirm for me and Nat. See you on the 22nd, babe."

"Love you, Hawkeye." She hung up and wiped her hand down her face. "Visit or call? Visit or call?"

Cassie sighed and hit the buttons on her landline to call Coulson. "Cassie. How's Seattle?"

"Rainy, but beautiful. Exactly what I expected. So... how's the... lack of hand?" She grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee.

"It's... bad. I'm having issues. My robotics guy is behind on making a prosthetic because our biologist disappeared and they were joined at the hip, but... is that why you called, Cass?"

"No, actually. Well, kinda. I know that the last several months have sucked for pretty much everybody and I'm thinking that we all need a bit of happy. I am hosting a Yule feast on the 22nd, and I'd like you and your A-Team to come."

"Yule Feast?"

"Yeah. I'm inviting a Viking God and a couple atheists, so I didn't want to go too religious on it. That's why I'm doing it early and calling it 'Yule'. It's gonna be great and I'd really like you and yours to be there."

"Even Bobbi?"

"Uh, yeah. Actually, I have a gift specially for her."

"Really? Aren't you dating Barton?"

"I am. Since before Sokovia, actually, since I know you wanna know. No, I developed a thing in my Stark Tech lab that I think screams 'Mockingbird'. I got Tony to agree let me give the prototype to her. If she has any complaints, it'll help me tweak it before any sort of production."

"So... you're calling to invite me and mine to Yule dinner?" There was silence for a few seconds, then Coulson asked, "Are you making sweet potatoes?"

"And sweet potato pie. Mac and Cheese casserole, mashed potatoes and those rolls I made on your birthday."

"What can I bring?"

"Just you and some presents."

"We'll be there."

"Great. See you in a few days." She turned off the house phone and took a drink of her coffee. "Call Tony," she demanded of her cell phone.

"You know who you called. Leave a message."

"The Boss is unavailable. Would you like to leave a message?" The Irish accent of FRIDAY came through the speaker.

"Oh, come on! FRIDAY, tell the man to answer his phone. Tell him I burned down StarkTech Olympia and the insurance guys are gonna be calling next."

"That's not funny." Tony's voice came through the speaker next.

"But effective, wasn't it, Boss?" Cassie asked, with a smile.

"What do you need, Campbell?"

"A vacation and a raise, but beyond that... Pepper RSVP'd for the two of you and I just wanted to make sure she even mentioned it to you before she did that."

"RSVP'd... to your little Christmas thing?"

"Right."

"Yeah. I told her to. We're good."

"Awesome. Everyone's gonna be here. Well, not everyone. Still can't seem to get a bead on Banner and he doesn't really seem like the Christmas type, but... Clint, Nat, Vision, Wanda, Sam, Phil and his crew and you and Pepper are definitely coming. I have a raven to Asgard-don't ask- and an invitation traveling USPS to New York for Steve. It's an actual paper Christmas card. Hallmark just says some things better than me."

"No. You just wanted to make Rogers feel at home. All those words you throw around, no one could say it better than you."

Cassie chuckled. "I got a blank snowman card and wrote inside it. You know me so well, Tony."

"Do you need me to bring anything? I mean, do you need me to tell Pepper we need to bring something?"

"If you want liquor, you have to bring it. I've been keeping a dry house. And... I know how you are about the holidays, so... that's what you should bring."

"All right. Next week. And StarkTech Olympia better be standing and ready for a walk-through when I get there."

"You're gonna make me give you a tour of the lab on Christmas?"

"The 22nd isn't Christmas. I don't even think it's Yule this year."

"Actually, it is. I looked it up."

"Uh-oh. You aren't getting into all that occultist weird stuff that Hitler got your daddy into, are you?"

"I'm insulted, Tony. Even as a joke, that's insulting. I was trying to be more accommodating for the aliens and agnostics on our team, all right? I'm still a Christian and I will be celebrating my savior's birth, likely alone, a few days later. This isn't about the Holy-day, this is about family."

"Yule isn't about family. It's about the God of the Sun dying and being reborn. It's kinda like Easter, without the fertility symbols."

"Oi, don't shit on my religion, Stark. Easter is not about the bunny or eggs, it's about Jesus becoming the Walking Dead. Just be here on Yule and bring booze. I have the feeling we're gonna need it." She hung up before he could and stretched her neck to relieve some of the stress.

****************************

Clint showed up the night of the 21st, calling forth a squeal from the superheroine. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "House smells like pie," Clint said.

"That's 'cause there's three pies in the oven."

"Three? Thought you were doing six?"

"Apple, pumpkin and sweet potato are in now. I've got a no-bake chocolate and a lemon meringue in the fridge setting and I did a pumpkin cheesecake yesterday. Bonus, I wanted to know if I was any good at pecan, so I made an extra pie."

"Wow. You got really into this, didn't you?" Clint asked, flicking a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorjamb between the foyer and the living room.

"I didn't have Christmas for twenty years and then, Phil was usually working on Christmas. This is the first time I've ever had a chance to do Christmas. I bought a whole bunch of ornaments and stuff. I've got a real freakin' pine tree in my living room. Real mistletoe that I had to buy through a florist. The dinner. I'm excited."

"How excited?" Clint asked, wagging his eyebrows at her.

"Are you asking for Christmas sex, because I am severely behind on my mise en place?"

"Your what?"

"Food prep. You know, giant meal tomorrow."

"And if I help you with your preparazione del cibo, you can come take a break and show me what you've done with your bedroom since I helped you move in."

"It's been months, Clint. You think we'll even make it up those stairs?" she asked.

"Love it when you turn the modesty off for me," he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a deep kiss.

She moaned into his mouth and tried not get pulled into the feeling of having Clint's hands on her hips again. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back from him firmly. "No. I... Clint. There's a lot to do still."

"And sixteen hours 'til the other guests come through that door. You said it, babe, it's been months." Clint brought his fingers up and began to unbutton her green cardigan. "This is adorable on you, by the way. Can we take it off for a sex... I mean, sec."

"Clint. What if the pies burn?"

He pulled the sweater down her arms and tossed it toward the counter. It landed perfectly, hanging from the corner of a slightly open drawer. "We don't even have to leave the kitchen."

"That's not very... sanitary," Cassie breathed out as Clint pulled her camisole top over her head and threw it over to hang with her sweater.

"You have seen my apartment in Bed-Stuy, haven't you?" Clint asked, turning her around and pushing her so that she was leaning over the counter. "How much do you think I care about sanitary? Thank you for wearing a skirt." He kissed the back of her neck as his hands glided down her legs to pull her skirt up around her hips and hooked his fingers in the band of her panties.

"There's really only one thing in this kitchen I've been dying to eat, Cass, and it's not in the oven."

"Oh. Don't be vulgar."

He pulled her panties to her feet and kissed his way up the back of her thigh. "You love it when I'm vulgar." He picked her left foot up and pushed it to rest on the counter. His tongue delved quickly into her as his left hand came around to rub her clit. His right hand dug into his back pocket and tossed a condom onto the counter. It landed perfectly on the back of Cassie's hand, as Clint continued his assault.

She ripped the foil open and handed it backward to Clint, who stood, pulling his jeans down and rolling the condom over his mostly-hard length. "Wasting no time, huh?"

"Hey, you're the one that's worried about pies. And I've been thinking about this since before I got on that plane. I'm more than ready enough. You need more foreplay?"

"God, no. Just fuck me, we can do this the right way after the guests leave."

"My thoughts, exactly." He lined himself up with her, putting his left hand on her shoulder and his right on her hip. He pushed the head of him into her, both of them closing their eyes at the sensation. He swiveled his hips forward until he was completely sheathed in her. "Did I mention how much I've missed you?"

"Missed me or missed this?"

"It can't be both?" He asked.

"Such a charmer," she whispered as he pulled back until he was just barely inside her. She bit her lip in anticipation and let her head fall forward as he began a fast-paced piston motion. "Fuck, Clint."

"Gotta visit more." Clint groaned as he attached his mouth to the junction where her shoulder and neck met.

"Oh, yes. Please. I need more of this in my life." She whimpered as Clint brought his left hand around to rub furiously at her clit.

"I'm gonna cum. You gonna cum with me?"

"Harder, Clint."

"Bossy," he breathed in her ear, but his next several pumps were harder and he pressed his fingers into her clit with much more pressure. As the muscles inside of her began to clench, Clint grunted his approval and emptied into the condom.

Cassie reached forward and grabbed several paper towels, as Clint pulled the condom off and tossed it into the trash. She handed the paper towels to him and reached down to pull up her panties. "I love you and that was great, but... I have to wash my hands and check on pies. Why don't you go put your bag in the bedroom?"

"I love you and that was great." He kissed her cheek and walked out of the kitchen, fattening his jeans.

*******************

Thor's arrival brought rain down on the house, harder than the normal Seattle drizzle, and made slush of the December snow. "Thor! A-and Sif!" Cassie said, pulling the door open. "I wasn't expecting you to bring Lady Sif."

Thor gave a huge smile as he passed through the doorway to greet Pepper, Clint and Tony. Lady Sif stopped in front of her and smiled. "I've heard much about you, Lady Cassie. Thor has regaled us of your warrior personality and your great intelligence. You'd do well on Asgard."

"Regaled you? Wha-"

"Yes, the Allfather and I both greatly appreciate the tale where Loki came to you disguised as one of your advisors and you caved in his chest with one great kick."

Cassie blinked at the giant woman. *The Allfather. Thor still doesn't know. Shit.* "The Allfather... that doesn't seem like something he'd care about."

"On the contrary," Thor said, placing a long, poorly-wrapped pole against the wall next to the tree. "Father enjoys hearing about you. He especially loves to hear about Ulysses Klaue's ship."

"Ah, yes! How you were able to redirect the witch's influence and break out of her hold while Thor and his companions were all stuck inside their minds. That you, a small Midgardian woman, had to carry the mighty Odinson to safety never ceases to amuse."

"It doesn't strike any of you as odd that Odin would care, at all, about what some Midgardian woman's doing?"

Thor clapped a hand on her back and smiled. "You are more than just a Midgardian woman. You are my friend and teammate and, though your marriage to my brother was short and involuntary, I consider you my sister."

"I believe it is your connection with Loki, his obsession with you, that spurred Odin's interest. He's ordered Heimdall report your actions weekly."

"And the ravens are watching me. That's how I got the message to you."

"Just Huginn," Thor answered.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna say it: you ever think Odin might be Loki in disguise?"

Sif and Thor looked at each other, seriously, for a moment before filling the foyer with loud laughter. "You did not tell me she was so adept at the art of jest, Thor!"

Cassie smiled, awkwardly, as Thor put his hands on her shoulders and walked her into the living room. "What's funny?" Clint asked.

"The absurdity that my brother might've gone back to Asgard, where he is a wanted man set to be imprisoned for the rest of his existence for crimes against the Nine Realms, and somehow took over Odin's life and position as King."

"That is funny. Even Loki isn't crazy enough to go back to Asgard," Tony said, a glass of suspiciously thin eggnog in his hand.

"What if he did it when you thought he was dead; before he even came back for me?" Cassie whispered.

Everyone in the room looked around as they realized she was serious. "Kid, where's this coming from?" Tony asked.

"Odin has taken an interest in her. My tales of her mightiness have made her an interest for him. She thinks this odd." Thor responded.

"You guys are right. It's absurd. Loki would never have made it to the throne room. Heimdall would've seen. He doesn't ever miss anything, right?"

"Exactly," Thor said, with a smile.

Cassie nodded and walked toward the door as the chime rang through the house. *Planted the seed. Nothing else I can do. Except admit that I've known since I was Joanna and I should've told them when I got back from Austria and Thor needs to go depose Loki from the Allfather's throne. Which will stall their trust in me, and rightfully so. Erg. Just not on Christmas, Cassie.* "Phil!" she said, with a smile as she opened the door. She wrapped her arms around him, then turned to the tall blond. "Bobbi, nice to see you up and about. How's the knee?"

"Better than the lung. Leg only hurts when I move."

"Lung hurts when you breathe. Gotcha. Well, I don't have any medical personnel here, but I've got several scientists and Nat and Clint might have some of those SHIELD un-approved pain killers that Phil's supposed to act like he's never taken because he's Director now."

"Uh-oh, Coulson. You sure you wanna introduce us to your (super young, by the way) ex? Might learn some stuff about you." A woman with wavy brunette hair and a black leather jacket said.

"'Skye', right? Wait, 'Daisy' now. Nice to meet you. Cassie. And yeah, young, but strong and awesome and mature for my age."

"You mean, 'our age', right? I mean, if we aren't the same age, then you can't be much older," Daisy started.

"That's not- our relationsh- She's young, but-"

Bobbi laughed. "Let's get inside before Coulson pulls out the whole 'Age ain't nothin' but a number' spiel."

"Ooh, or the 'she seduced me' argument," Daisy replied, as the women walked past the hostess into the foyer where they took off their jackets.

"More likely, the 'You know how hard it is to find someone who understands the job'," Bobbi said, disappearing into the living room.

"We didn't bring any presents. Except Coulson," a sad Scottish accent said as the skinny man who owned it stepped forward.

"That's okay. Got food for you, anyway, Fitz."

"How do you know us all?" Fitz asked, stopping at the doorway.

"I have cultivated an unusual and unexpected friendship with Nick Fury. He put your team together so he told me about you."

"You're friends with Fury?" Coulson asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I showed a little due respect and he showed it back." She pushed the men toward the living room and shut the door. "You know, Fury doesn't have a problem with me dating Clint."

"Probably because Barton isn't old enough to be your father," Natasha called out as they walked into the living room.

"Nat! When did you get here?"

"She walked down the stairs a few minutes ago," Pepper answered.

"Clint left the window unlocked, didn't he?"

Natasha gave her signature smirk. "You shouldn't keep pizza in your bedroom. You'll get bugs."

Cassie turned her gaze to Clint. "There's pizza in my bedroom?"

"I got hungry after you went to sleep. Amazing Nick's is open until 3 am."

"But why is the pizza in the bedroom?"

"The real question is, how'd you miss that when you woke up?" Daisy asked.

"I fell asleep on the couch 'cause I was still cooking. So, he got a pizza at 2 am and took it up to my room to eat."

"I like to be comfy when I'm overloading on carbohydrates and cheese."

"There better not be grease on my comforter."

"Hey, calm down! It's Christmas!" Clint said, with a smile.

"Oh, you got jokes, Barton, but we all know I can kick your well-toned ass, so go get the pizza out of my damn bedroom."

Clint chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

Daisy and Bobbi watched as he bounced up the stairs, two at a time. "Wow. It's weird that you're the grown-up in your relationship. Was it like that with Coulson, too?" Daisy asked.

"Um... Phil and I were both, kinda, the grown-up when we were together. I was grown-up about the domestic stuff and he was grown about everything else."

"Which wasn't much. He wasn't around often," Natasha said, casting her eyes on the Director.

"Fury had me running all over the world, chasing dangerous tech, people and aliens. New York for Stark, New Mexico for Thor and Dr. Selvig. Hong Kong. Portland." Cassie gave a tight smile to the room at the mention of Portland, sitting down next to Pepper. Stark patted her hand as Phil continued. "I was busy, and Cassie knew that I was going to be away a lot. She knew what she was getting into."

"At, what, twenty? She knew what she was getting into?" Pepper chided.

"All right, back off of Phil a little. This isn't the season of shaming. It's the season of giving. And I have presents for most of you, food for everyone. Speaking of, I have to go check the turkey," Cassie said, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

"Need any help in there?" Bobbi shouted.

"No, no. I'm good for now. Might need help in a while but... ooh, actually, if you wanted, I have a crudité platter in here. You could come grab it." Cassie pulled the platter from the fridge and handed it to the gigantic blond woman. "Hummus, ranch, veggies. Nothing that should be offensive to anyone... except maybe the carnivore Asgardians. I don't know if they even eat vegetables."

"I'm sure it's fine. Hey, you know we're just taking the piss out of Coulson for the hell of it, right? It's nothing against you or your relationship. I'm sure it wasn't anything sordid."

"It was true love... for a few years. And then it wasn't." Cassie sighed, pulling open the oven.

"But you've got Clint now. He's a good man. And if you can deal with the infantile way he deals with life, you'll be fine."

"I know. And I can." She stood, baster in hand, and shut the oven door. She looked at Bobbi. "You ever get that feeling, where something is great... it's amazing and awesome and you love it, but something isn't quite right? It's just askew."

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"My whole life is like that. Everything is just a little off center. And I don't know why, so I question everything now... even good men."

Bobbi opened her mouth to say something, but the bell rang again, prompting Cassie to nod at her and walk toward the foyer. "Steve! Wanda and Vision! Hey! Welcome, welcome, and happy holidays!" She stepped out of the way to let the Avengers into the house.

"Happy Christmas!" Wanda said, hugging her.

"Fröhliche Weihnachten, meine Freundin." She gave the brunette a squeeze and turned to Vision with a smile. "Great to see you. I was afraid you'd think this Christmas, or Yule, stuff would be silly."

"Wanda explained the importance. I'd never detract from your rituals. I was, admittedly, a bit lost about what to bring."

"We didn't have much money, but we think you'll be happy with zem," Wanda said.

"I'm just happy you're here. Living room is straight through there. Everybody's already here."

"Sam said he'll be here for dessert," Steve said, closing the door. He looked around the hallway, decked out in reds and greens. "The lights out there are nothing compared to this. You went big on the decorations."

Cassie shrugged. "First Christmas."

"Really?"

"Does it surprise you that Hydra didn't feel the need to tell me about Christmas?" she asked as Steve took his blue coat off and hung it neatly by the door. "I learned about it while I was in the Fridge, through books and stuff."

"You've been out for almost five years, now, right?"

"No one to celebrate with. Fury always made sure Phil was out during the holidays... and after I moved to New York... no one to celebrate with," she repeated.

"I'm sure Nick didn't do it on purpose."

Cassie smiled. "Yeah... he did. He wanted Phil out and away from me as much as possible. Nick and I have discussed this. Anyway, Merry Christmas, Steve."

"Merry Christmas, Cassie," Steve responded, eyeing the mistletoe above her head. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Come on."

"All right, that's everybody except Sam, who won't be here before pie." Cassie walked into the living room and stood next to the tree, Steve leaning against the doorjamb. "So, we can do presents before or after the feast. I'd recommend before, though, 'cause who wants to open presents when they're fighting a tryptophan nap?"

"Break out the presents. That big one, there, that's for me, right?" Tony asked, pointing to a large flat present.

"Actually, yes. Were you shaking gifts while I was out of the room?" she asked, handing the gift to him. He ripped the paper off to reveal a mosaic picture of Iron Man made of thousands of pictures of Tony. "I had a little time while waiting for things to finish at work, so I came up with this. Do you like it?"

"This is... amazing. Look, it's me.... made out of me," Tony said, turning the frame so everyone could see it.

"You had to play to his ego, didn't you?" Pepper joked.

"I knew what he'd like. Okay, so.... Pepper, here you go. Clint, babe. Natasha," Cassie said, handing wrapped boxes to everyone as she said their names. "Now, open them one at a time. I wanna see your faces as you open them. Pepper, you first."

Pepper smiled and tore into the box. "Oh, my. Did you make this?" she asked, pulling up a teal knit scarf.

"Yeah. I tried to make as many of the gifts as I could."

"Where did you find time to learn to knit?" Phil asked.

"Um... I learned to knit a few years ago. I was working on socks... and a blanket." She looked down, then back up with a big smile. "I was gonna do a sweater for Vision, but I decided against it. Natasha, yours next."

Natasha looked down at the long box in her lap, then ran her finger along the end of the paper and slid the box out. Inside was a knife, almost a foot long from end to end. The Russian smiled slightly as she pulled it from it's sheath. "Fallkniven A1 survival blade. 6.375 inch blade, 11 inches because it's full tang. Beautiful, perfectly balanced... this is amazing. Thank you."

"You don't already have one, do you?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. I don't. Thank you."

"Clint." Clint's box was long and when he opened it, a shiny, purple leather quiver greeted him. "I mean, it's obviously not for Tactical work, but... I like it."

"She knows your favorite color? We were married for two years before I knew your dirty secret." Bobbi seemed offended.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a man liking purple. I just don't tell anyone because some people disagree with me about that."

"That might be my fault. His first suit was all purple and blue, with a big mask. I told him he looked like a big, gay circus freak," Natasha responded.

"Mostly right," Bobbi responded.

"Seriously?!" Clint glared at the gymnast and the ballerina, before leaning forward to kiss Cassie. "I love it. I'm gonna use it at the farm everyday."

Cassie smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks. She cleared her throat and walked to the tree, grabbing another object that definitely looked like a picture frame, albeit much smaller than Tony's, and handing it to Wanda. Wanda smiled and pulled open the wrapping paper. Her face dropped into a sad look as tears began to form in her eyes. Vision put a hand on her shoulder as she hugged the small canvass to her.

"Okay, knitting, I get, but when did you learn to paint?" Phil asked, deeply impressed by the detail in her painting of Pietro.

"I got the basic lessons from this little old lady in Hohenheims. She was painting a mural of the Nativity on the wall of Father Nathan's office and I just watched and learned for a while. I work on it when I have time."

"How do you have so much time? You work sixty hours a week at the lab and you go to school. When are you painting and knitting and making mosaics of Tony?" Steve asked, crossing the living room and picking up the painting to examine it as Wanda set it on the couch and hugged the artist.

Cassie smiled. "I make time for my family." She grabbed a small box and handed it across to Coulson, who shook it.

Phil pulled the wrapping off, revealing a small plastic box. He flipped the top off and gasped, "Are these-"

"Mint and vintage. The guy tried to sell me reproductions, but I could tell the difference. I've seen the real thing. I heard what Fury did to yours and I knew it must've broken your heart once you got back from TAHITI."

"These must've cost a fortune!" Phil whispered, flipping carefully through the cards.

"Well, after I caught the guy trying to cheat me, I pulled up some footage of Sokovia on my phone and showed him that I, you know, could put the hurting on him, he gave me a good deal." She smirked as she handed a box to Bobbi.

"Are you sure you wanna give me a present?"

"I'm sure. Go on."

Bobbi tore the package open and pulled out two batons and two bracelets. "Do these... go together?"

"Yeah. The, uh, the bracelets snap on and activate and that way, you can throw your batons and the magnetic pull between the bracelets and batons will bring them right back to your hands."

"That's amazing!" Bobbi exclaimed, testing out the balance of the batons. "These... if they can do what you say... when I get back in the field..."

"If," Coulson responded, still looking at his cards, mesmerized.

"It does! And you will get out in the field again. Okay, who's left? Steve! That box," she said pointing to a big box next to the tree.

He leaned down and ripped open the box, pulling out a stack of albums. "'Music Through the Decades'."

"Starts on the ‘50s and goes on through now. I also added a few albums that I really like. Green Day is real good and Nirvana."

"If there's not any Sabbath in there, then what's the point?"

Cassie smirked at Tony. "No 'Iron Man' but I'm pretty sure 'Crazy Train' is on one of those vinyls."

"This is great, Cassie. Thank you. And thank you for... picking vinyls."

"Of course. They're coming back into vogue, so it's easier to find them."

"Everything old is new again," Clint mumbled.

Cassie giggled before turning to Thor. "I'm still working on yours. It was a tall order and I thought I could get it done before now but I... just haven't had time. I'm working on a communication device that will work between Midgard and Asgard, so you can call Jane or we could call you. Not everyone on the team has Heimdall and Huginn watching them."

"A tall order? I assume this means a difficult thing and yes, that would be a 'tall order'. Even Asgard doesn't have such a device."

"If anyone can do it-" Clint started.

"I can. But if I don't care to try, Cassie's got you," Tony said, taking a drink of his nog.

"I'll figure it out. Promise."

"Wow. She's an amazing gift-giver," Daisy mused, taking one of Bobby's batons and tossing it in the air.

"Yeah. Now it's her turn. Grab a gift." Natasha pointed at the tree.

"Allow me." Thor volunteered, grabbing the poorly-wrapped pole as Sif handed her a pair of gloves.

Cassie looked between the Asgardians in confusion. "I need gloves to open my present?" she asked. They just nodded, smiling, as the SHIELD agents looked up, nervously. She pulled the gloves on and looked down.

"That's not..." Phil set down the cards and stood, looking to Thor as he handed the pole to Cassie.

Cassie ripped the paper down and gasped as she was met with a bright silver staff, etched with Asgardian runes. "Oh, my. This is beautiful."

"That's a Berserker Staff. Nobody touch it," Daisy warned.

"Are you sure that's a good gift for-" Phil started, looking worried.

"She is mighty. She can handle the Berserk." Sif answered.

"Okay, somebody explain this one to me. Berserker Staff?"

"Cass, it's, uh, an Asgardian weapon. It gives you a massive dose of adrenaline and then, it pulls on all of your worst memories to give you a rage like you've never felt before. It's supposed to be really good in battle, but you can ask May... it's pretty horrible."

"She is mighty, son of Coul. She pulled herself from the dream this witch created when even Thor could not. If there were ever a mortal strong enough to handle the Berserker staff, it is she," Sif responded.

Cassie looked down at the staff on her lap in wonder. "Horrible but really good in battle. It's the Hulk of alien weaponry. Thank you, Thor, so much. I know this must be a huge deal, to give a Midgardian one of these."

Thor smiled his bright white smile again. "You are not just a Midgardian. You are my sister. It is no huge deal, Lady Cassie."

"I don't know if she can handle-" Bobbi started.

"On the May-to-Ward scale of handling shit, where would you place her, Coulson?" Daisy asked.

"Well, I... think that's a question for Barton. 'Cause she didn't really have any rage when I was with her, so I don't know how she deals with it."

Cassie stood as Clint opened his mouth to answer. "How about that's a question for me. I deal with my considerable rage just fine. I became a superhero with it. I don't dwell on it, but I use it, every time I fight. If that's what this thing does, then good. And don't ask my ex-boyfriend if I can handle something, Daisy." She set the staff against the wall and smiled at Clint. "Your turn, babe."

Clint grabbed a box from under the tree and a Christmas card from the mantel over the fireplace. "Box is from me; card is from Katie."

"Ooh, the other Hawkeye sent me a gift? She's never even met me."

"She insisted."

"When do I get to meet Miss Bishop?" Cassie asked, opening the card.

"Uh... sometime when Bobbi and Nat aren't around. Too many of my important women in one place... three of you makes me nervous, four would kill me."

"'I know how stressful working with Barton can be, I can only imagine how dating him must kill. De-stress on me. Merry Christmas.' Holy shit. This is a wristband for Aphrodite Day Spa. This is the most amazing spa in central Washington. It's several thousand dollars for an all-inclusive wristband. I feel bad, now. I didn't get anything for her."

"Don't worry. I've told you her daddy is rich, right? What do you get the hero who has everything?"

"Wow." She set the card down and opened the box. "Oh, my. Is this a real Henkel?"

"Euroline. That's the one you wanted, right?" Clint asked.

"I... barely mentioned that I liked it. This is... awesome."

"He got you a kitchen knife? Lame," Tony muttered.

"A ZWILLING J.A. Henkel chef knife. This is, like, the filet minon of chef's knives." She defended. "Thank you, Clint. You are amazing."

"I think we should probably go next. 'Worst for last' is not the way, you know?" Wanda said, grabbing Vision's hand and each grabbing their gifts. Cassie smiled and opened the box Wanda handed over. "I know you spent a bit of time in Austria. Thought you might want to have a bit of Europe to eat."

"Hey! Mozartkugel!"

"What the hell is Mozartkugel?" Tony asked.

"It's pistachio marzipan and nougat covered in dark chocolate. It's amazing. Helga got me addicted before I could even pronounce 'Mozartkugel'. Thank you! How'd you know?" Wanda looked down, sheepishly. "You took it from my head. That's okay. Thank you."

Vision handed her a small box, which she quickly opened, pulling out a small ceramic Santa figurine. "Aww. It's cute! Thank you, Vision." He nodded at her.

"In the vein of 'let us not leave worst for last', me next," Pepper said, pushing a card into her hands. "It's just a gift card."

"To... Sephora? High-end make up. You rock, Pepper. I was just telling Clint that I need to learn how to do my makeup."

"And I was telling her she doesn't need it."

"Well, that's a thing Barton does well," Bobbi said to Natasha, who just nodded.

Cassie smiled at Barton and thanked Pepper. Steve looked sheepishly at the group. "I, uh, feel pretty horrible about my gift. All these great gifts and... I went practical with mine."

"An umbrella is very practical," Vision said, causing everyone to cast their eyes down.

"An umbrella. For Seattle. I get it. Cute, practical. Just like you, Steve," Cassie said, with a big smile.

"All right. My turn," Tony said, handing her a large jewelry box. "It was my mother's."

Cassie was breathless as she looked down at an Art Deco necklace with an opal and two large diamonds set into a platinum pendant. "Tony... you can't... I can't."

"Pepper doesn't do opal," Tony said, pulling the necklace from the box and holding it up to her neck. "It's gonna look great on you."

"But this was your mom's."

"My mom would have loved you. She was a strong woman, too, you know. Had to be, to put up with my father's bull. Look, I'm not wearing it and I've got two important women in my life and one of them doesn't do opal."

"He really wants you to have it," Pepper whispered, encouragingly.

"But, this is..."

"You always argue when I try to give you stuff. You should know it's futile, by now," Tony said, clasping the necklace together behind her neck and stepping back to marvel at how it looked on her. "Yup. I was right. Hangs just right."

"Here," Natasha said, pulling a bow out from behind the couch and handing it to Cassie. "It's a compound, not a longbow, but compounds are easier to learn on. Or so the guy at the shop told me."

"Wow, thanks so much." Cassie looked around and smiled. "Well, if that's everything, turkey should be-"

"That's not everything. Coulson brought something," Fitz said, walking out of the room.

Phil nodded and walked away, grabbing Cassie's hand and pulling her out of her house and into her front yard. "So, I remember how much you liked LOLA and how much you enjoyed that motorcycle run we did from Malibu to San Fran, so I had Mack and Fitz put together this..." He opened up the back of the black van they'd arrived in, revealing a Harley Sportster. "It's an '03 XL 1200. Still got the endorsement on your license?"

"You... motorcycle?" She was dumbfounded.

"Not just a motorcycle. You think he'd have us work on a regular motorcycle?" Fitz asked as Coulson rolled the bike out of the van. "Well, Mack, maybe, but not me."

"Fitz is the guy who made our stealth tech work," Coulson said, proudly. "And he made quick work of the science that makes LOLA hover. Meet HARLEE. Hover Aircraft Requiring a Little Extra Effort."

"That's a horrible name," Clint commented.

"It's better than his first idea. Wanted me to figure out a way to make the acronym PHIL," Fitz responded.

"Oh, like LOLA was named after his first love," Daisy said with smile.

"This is amazing, Fitz. Did you do the whole thing?"

"Well, Mack did a lot of the work on the... the normal motorcycle parts, but the... additional bits were all me," Fitz replied, leaning down to examine his work on the HARLEE.

"This is amazing," Cassie repeated, hugging the Scotsman, who stiffened. "Thank you, Fitz."

"Thank him? Where's my thanks?" Coulson asked.

"How much help did you give the poor overworked Leopold Fitz?" Cassie asked, releasing the man and turning to the SHIELD director.

Coulson lifted his prosthetic hand. "I couldn't help much with this."

"Oh, has he been using that as an excuse since Mack cut it off?" Natasha asked.

Bobbi, Daisy and Fitz all nodded. Cassie laughed. "Thank you for thinking of it, Phil. I love it! Now, let's get inside, it's freezing out here. Let's go eat some turkey!"

Steve smirked. "I'm fine in the cold. Mind if I stay back, appreciate your present?"

"All right, but don't go becoming a Cap-cicle again." Cassie smirked as she ushered everyone else into the house.

Steve grabbed Clint's arm and pulled him away from the door, close to the Harley and forced him to bend to look at the bike. "She's not sleeping."

"Yeah? How'd I sneak a large 3-cheese past her at 2 am, then?"

"There's no way she had time to do everything and still get sleep, Clint. She was either exhausted from her insomnia, or she took something to make herself sleep."

"Drugs?"

"Lorazepam. That's what Banner gave her when she came back from Austria."

Clint pulled back, standing. "How do you know that?"

"Because I was worried." Steve stood, too. "When she came back from Austria, she should've been rested. Happy. But she wasn't. She was exhausted, I could see it when you walked in, so I went to Banner after you and Natasha debriefed me and she was passed out in his lab. Bruce told me that he'd given her anxiety meds that let her sleep. He told me that she'd been having nightmares, terrors that persisted until she saw Dr. Garner."

"So, what, you think she's dreaming of Loki again?"

"I don't think she was dreaming of Loki before, Clint. What did she learn from that first session with Doc Garner?"

"That she wasn't evil like she thought."

"And the nightmares stopped. It wasn't Loki that caused her insomnia in Austria. Heck, she dealt with a Loki dream in enough time to pick me up and carry me off that ship in Africa. So, what could possibly be causing her insomnia now?"

Clint looked down, thinking of the plane ride to Sokovia. Wanda had gotten her to admit that she was afraid of whatever pieces of her were leaking. If anything was keeping her awake at night, that would be it. "She's fine, Cap. Don't worry about her," he lied as he turned away.

Steve watched as Clint walked into the house. "Fine. I'll talk to her about it."

As he walked into the dining room, Cassie held up a postcard. "So, I got this a few days ago, wanted to share it with you. Postcard, no return address, it looks like it's just blank, but... run a black light over it... Bam! QR code." She pulled her phone out and scanned the invisible code. "When scanned, it brings us to a far corner of the Dark Web housing just one video."

"Merry Christmas, guys," a familiar voice called out from her cell. "From scenic all-points nowhere. As you can see, but not enough to determine my location, I'm back doing what I should always be doing. I'm helping people, I'm not hurting anyone. I haven't had an incident since Sokovia and I'm gonna keep it that way."

Cassie paused the video as Steve sat down in the empty seat next to Natasha. "Despite the next part... I've analyzed it, of course, but I'm sure some of you will want to try it yourself."

"Please, stop looking for me. I can't be an Avenger, anymore. I can't come back because then I'd have to be Him and... I can't lose control again. Please, let me be. Merry Christmas, Avengers, and have a great New Year."

Natasha reached across Clint and snatched the card away from Cassie. "Did you analyze the paper stock?"

"I wanted to leave something for you to do, Natasha. Merry Christmas," Cassie said, walking away from the table to the kitchen. She returned with the turkey platter on one arm and the ham platter on the other. Steve stood and followed her into the kitchen as she grabbed the dishes carrying the sides. He stacked what was left onto his arms and carried them to the table behind her. "Thank you, Steve. Such a gentleman."

She walked to the head of the table and smiled at everyone. "I really wanna thank you guys for coming. You know, this is first Christmas... for a couple of us, and I..." She cleared her throat as tears started to sting her eyes. "I am so blessed to have you all. I've never had a family. Phil was the closest thing... And now, I have a... feast full of people who wanted to spend the holiday with me. I finally have people to share my life with and I could not be happier."

Clint reached out and took her hand in his, stroking his thumb across the back of it, reassuringly. "Anyway, thanks. Um, let's eat," she said, picking up a carving knife and a fork and leaning forward to cut into the ham.

"What, no Grace?" Tony smirked.

"Religious dinner shall be had at a later date." As she sliced into the meat, a flash of memory hit her. A man tied to a chair as a knife sliced through his thigh. His eyes clenched tightly in pain as he ground out 'Patrick Mackenzie, SHIELD level 5'. Cassie dropped the fork to the platter, her fingers tightening around the knife handle.

"You okay?" several guests chorused.

She blinked and cleared her throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just emotional. Somebody wanna- Wanda, stay out of my head," she instructed as she set the knife down and slipped away from the table.

Phil took over cutting the ham and Clint pulled the turkey into arm's reach, as Steve excused himself and followed the hostess. He knocked, lightly, at the bathroom door. "Hey. You all right?"

"I'm fine," she croaked.

"You're crying." It was a guess, but not a particularly hard one.

"Well, it's an emotional day."

"Are you sure it's that? Are you sure this isn't more of whatever's keeping you up at night?"

"You know, I told Wanda to stay out of my head, I figured it went without saying for the rest of you."

"Come on, Cassie. Talk to me." The lock clicked and Steve pushed in, locking it back behind him. She was sitting on the sink, eyes already red and puffy. "What's wrong?"

"Me. I'm wrong." Steve stood silently and waited for her confession. "I... I'm remembering."

"And that's not a good thing?"

She shook her head. "I'm remembering Hydra. I'm remembering being Vierhundert Zweiundfünfzig. I'm remembering who I was with them. I think I hurt people, Steve, maybe even killed."

Steve placed his hand firmly on her shoulder. "Cassie, it's-"

"Don't patronize me, Steve. Don't tell me it's okay because it's not okay," she snapped.

"It's not okay. But mostly, it's not okay because of how it's affecting you." Steve reached his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, sweeping it across her cheeks. "Whatever you did when Hydra had you, that wasn't you."

"You don't understand. If... if I remember that, if I remember who I was... doesn't that make me her?"

Steve sighed, pulling her down from the sink. "I think that's a question for Doctor Garner. Have you talked to him about this?"

She shook her head. "He was on vacation and... he hasn't answered my calls since he got back. He's busy helping Phil with the whole... Inhumans thing."

"And Fury? He must know who you were when he grabbed you from Hydra. Did you try him?"

"He told me not to ask. Said I wouldn't like the answers."

"Nick's never been big on questions. Look." Steve pressed the handkerchief into her palm. "You have people, you know. What you were saying about having family... you should talk to them. If there is a group of people who knows how to deal with... bad pasts and fuzzy memories, it's us. You aren't wrong. You're perfect the way you are."

Cassie nodded and smiled, slightly. "Thanks. Let's go eat."

***********************************

As they watched everyone get into their cars, Cassie leaned her head on Clint's shoulder. She could tell by his protective and comforting stance that he knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't ask. He was great that way. "Merry Christmas, Cassie."

"Merry Christmas, Clint. You gonna stay for a couple days?"

"Of course. Long as you want me here."

"I love you. Wanna go in and call Laura, see if Barney ever showed?"

"Yeah. Come on." Clint turned and pushed her through the door.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

[theroguesharlequin]

I need some Misty Weather lovin'. Mardon and Nimbus, Criminal/Restaurant, pretty please. Maybe with a splash of kink. XD

Criminals+Restaurant(+plus kink~)=MistyWeather~

Hmmmm, I’ve only seen this pairing from what you’ve written, so lemme think… and wow I didn’t expect this to get so long XD

Mark and Clyde ‘settled down’ after their last score ended with Mark shot in the back from protecting Clyde and was paralyzed from the waist down.

So they decide to hang up their black hats and live their retirement dream earlier than expected by opening a pub. With their cooking skills, Clyde’s bartending, Mark’s business savvy, and a little help from a bunch of less than legit contacts their business venture is a huge success and it quickly becomes a good place to mingle and get information among central city’s criminal best.

They call it ‘Tempests’ officially, but those in the know nicknamed it ‘Saints and Sinners’. Seemed appropriate, even though there were remarkedly less of the former and an overflow of the later. The name stuck anyway.

A few years in and that’s when /he/ walked in.

Clyde had just got shot down again by Lisa and her smart little side piece for a threesome, (minutes after Clyde had also made the same offer to Cold and his new pretty CSI), and Mark just laughed as his brother pouted. Clyde aimed high, he would give him that. Must be on the outs with Rathaway and Jesse Jr. again.

Mark was sitting behind the counter with the register (and two well concealed handguns in case some dumb out of towner decided to push their luck), when the bar’s side of things got a little quieter than usual.

The Mist was (allegedly) a very good occasional thief and had recently (allegedly) wiped out most of the Darbinyan Family’s elite when they’d messed up by thinking they could frame him for some of their screw ups.

But Mist didn’t do the underground social scene, so there wasn’t anybody who really knew much about him, or would vouch for him. Mark could only think of one real reason the man would be here and, despite raving reviews, the food and drinks weren’t it.

Mark tilted his head to Clyde who was clutching one of the shotguns under the bar, and his brother backed off. Even the Mist wasn’t arrogant enough to pull anything too violent here, especially with over half the city’s biggest underworld names in attendance tonight.

And definitely not if he wanted to make a good first impression.

Just like he thought, the newly freelance criminal drifted right up to Mark’s desk and asked to open up a long term 'tab’. After a few exchanges full of double and triple meanings, Mark was confident enough to give him a trial period and vouch for him with whoever the guy tried to land work with, and gave him a few names to start.

Later that night, Mark was completely unsurprised to see Cold send Barry off to hang out with Lisa, Cisco, and Shawna while he and Mick held an impromptu interview.

Nimbus became a regular fixture at the pub after that.

It was nearly a month later when a few overly ambitious gangbangers trying to set up shop in Central decided to wait for him and Clyde after closing to try and knock them off.

The 'leader’ hadn’t even finished his threat before he had a second mouth to spout shit from, though all that came out was blood. Nimbus said he had left his coat apparently and asked if he could work off his tab a bit by helping 'clean up’.

Together the three of them wiped the floor with the rest of group. Mark really enjoyed the looks on some of the faces of the remaining trash as he happily crushed the windpipe of the ableist fucker who made the wrong kind of insult under his wheel after he was done shooting the piece of shit in all /five/ limbs.

It was almost a month before Clyde made the comment of Nimbus hanging around more often, but especially around Mark.

Mark had just thought Nimbus was being friendly. Most everyone was friendly towards him really, you didn’t piss off the person who could get you blacklisted with anyone worth dealing with in this city, but Nimbus did seem like he at least enjoyed his company for more than the occasional free drinks and discounted information that Mark sent his way (okay, yes, Clyde, so maybe he had noticed the guy wasn’t hard to look at).

But then Mark felt nervous. It had been a long time. Not since… The most he had down since then was gotten and given blowjobs a few blowjobs with guys he paid upfront and could send away without having to talk or give a shit about what they thought.

Nimbus never pushed, never made Mark feel rushed or uncomfortable, never did a lot of things that Mark hated whenever he thought he had met someone worth trying with. Nimbus never once looked at him like there was anything to be pitied or 'fixed’ about him, but he didn’t ignore any part of him either. He didn’t try to smother him and didn’t make things awkward.

He loved how rough and passionate Nimbus’ kisses were, (Kyle, he said to call him Kyle.) He found it cute when Kyle admitted to leaving his coat at the bar on purpose that night, hoping to talk to him alone after he had started developing an interest in him. An interest that had instantly turned into a burning attraction after seeing how gorgeous Mark looked while killing a man.

For the first time in a long time, Mark felt able to relax with someone enough to really be with them on an intimate level.

They hadn’t planned it the first time, despite trying to. Kyle had nearly gone to prison, covering for Clyde after Mark’s dumb, sweet, reckless, and caring little brother had tried to steal some new high tech off the market chair all on his own. (Clyde had been planning to surprise him with it for Christmas, the damn sap.)

He got away with the chair, but a bunch of holes in his plan had come back to bite him. (His baby brother was smart, but not the best planner.) Kyle had stepped in before Mark could and gotten arrested for his trouble.

Thankfully, Kyle had plenty of new friends and old favors to get out of it, even if it had been a close call.

When Kyle walked in a free man, the bar quickly vacated after only a few rounds when Mark let him fuck him over the bar top without giving a damn about who saw them.

And Clyde fully deserved a little mental scarring after his stunt, even if the chair was pretty damn great and the massage feature was fucking revelational. (And Cold had no right to complain as if Mark hadn’t noticed all the times he had played with and all but fucked his pretty badge on the pool tables, and the times Cold would actually take the poor boy with a barely hidden fuck in one of the booths. He was sure the two had been in his damn office too, but with Cold’s skill level he would never be able to prove it, the bastard.)

The sore ass he suffered through the next day was also completely worth it. (Luckily he now had a heated seat.)

As their relationship grew deeper, they were incredibly happy to discover that they shared all of the same kinks, even their more obscure ones.

The first time they exchanged 'I love yous’ involved a lot of lube, frottage, a vibrating plug, and Kyle riding him in a stolen classic sports car belonging to a local homophobic politician. (They heard all of the seats had had to be completely reupholstered.)

Their first year anniversary included moving in together, a shootout, fucking in the middle of said shootout, and Mark’s arms and legs being tied to the headboard of their new bed after a nice dinner spent scandalizing the city’s elite douchebags, his ass fucked and played with until he couldn’t scream any more.

After three years together and plenty of ups and downs, they got married at the pub surrounded by their most tolerated people, with a half sober Mick Rory as the marriage officiant (who for some reason was licensed to marry in ten states and three different countries. No one was insane enough to ask why.)

Happily (bloody) ever after : D

[aittiadf]

chapter 2

My eyes felt like screws after the seventh hour of manning the reception desk at New Ocean Hotel. My shift was almost over and every minute dragged itself over the slow blue sky. I went into the back bathroom, sat on the toilet and took a few hits from my vape pen. The high smoothed me over. I looked down at the checkered tiles of the bathroom floor and pulled out my phone. Samantha had texted me saying there was  someone she wanted me to meet. This guy from her church who drank with her had just seen the lights for the first time. She described him as a sheepless shepherd who wandered around praying to a higher power. Aren’t we all sheepless shepherds I thought but then I realized maybe people had more meaningful ways of understanding their life. 

She told me this guy was looking for a job and needed a place to stay. I didn’t really know how much I should care. Nothing really happened here and if some person wanted to be by the beach alone with an easy job then sure, he should come and stay for a while. If he had seen the lights at the very least it might give him some space to calm down. For me though it was boring. I’d worked here for over a year and only stayed because it gave me time to work on the free coding academy I had recently enrolled in. What I really wanted was to get out of this hotel and work for one of the startups in the bigger town to the south. 

The only time the hotel got busy was during the summer. But even then, when tourist season was in full force, none of the rooms would be filled. But there was always a two-four week span when the fires forced people out from the valleys or the mountains and the rates would spike higher than they were the rest of the year. We would be filled to the brim during that time, having to deny people and everything. It was cruel to raise rates during an environmental crisis. Supposedly there was an algorithm that decided the prices for all the hotels in a thirty mile radius so the rates were always the same and there wasn’t any real competition. So it was all blameless. The mechanized blasphemous rate spiking that occurred when people’s houses were burning to the ground could be attributed to the cloud or some other unknowable piece of technology whose existence could only be hinted at and never named. 

    I walked back to the front desk and sat at the computer trying to decipher an error in the coding assignment I was working on. It was useless. My brain was fried and I wanted to walk out the door and go home. I couldn’t, so I booted up youtube instead. Fifteen minutes later, I was on my fourth video of this guy who had a hydraulic press. The niche of the channel was that he exclusively pressed food. Lately it seemed he’d been going to a lot of fast food restaurants. I stood there transfixed as I watched the steel metal cylinder pulverize doritos locos tacos, double doubles, fish filets and atomic chicken wings. 

    My manager walked in from checking on some of the rooms in the hotel and I told her to come and take a look. She sat there dazed for a while as well, occasionally offering some commentary. 

“It's crazy to see food transform into such unrecognizable shapes” 

“This is making me hungry”

“That actually looks kind of good”

I liked her. She wasn’t sympathetic to the owners. They directed most of their nastiness onto her and she remained nice to the employees. Sometimes though the stress from the owners overflowed onto us. But there was this mutual understanding we seemed to have of the hotel’s emotional economy. Which is to say that we were aware the owners were some real cretinous fiends who cared about nothing but the rates and money and caused people to teeter at the edge. 

I think she knew I smoked in the restroom and she probably assumed I jacked off in there too, which wasn’t untrue. I indulged in what I was able to get away with. There was even this time me and this customer who I’d been chatting with locked eyes in the lobby when I came into work one morning. He and I went back into the bathroom and did all sorts of stuff. I think she knew about this too because we had security cameras but between us there was this tacit understanding that if you don’t have a big house with lots of dollars the coast in California is just a place where you go to dissolve into the sunset and burn off. 

    I told my manager I had a friend of a friend who needed a job and if she knew if we were hiring. She told me we weren’t but had seen that the steakhouse across the street was looking for servers. Both of us thought it was stupid that there was a steakhouse in this tiny little community. Apparently some silicon valley investor had got it in his mind that the real estate in this area would explode. The idea was that by developing some businesses and property in the area the energy of the coming boom would surge directly into his net worth. He had opened this all glass steakhouse, the type of building with exposed steel beams inside. So now, amid aging victorian homes and fields of wildflowers there was an all-glass restaurant that looked more like it made napalm than served ribeye. Maybe the meat was cloned. Either way, it had good reviews on Yelp.

    I told Samantha that if her friend was really looking for work that it was available here at this pretty stupid steakhouse.  We had this weird friendship that congealed around this time we did acid when we were seeing each other years ago. It was late and we were bored and awake so we decided to take a tab each and walk the couple miles down to the beachfront where we lived in central California. When we got there we took our shoes off and waded up into the ankles in the ocean. The wind was strong and the cold ocean water on our bodies began to feel like needles. There was this dingy beach motel by us with an iron gate that was rusted from the ocean breeze. It opened easily and we decided to take refuge in the stairway of the motel.  

All night we stayed awake feeling the euphoria from the acid and having the full force of California beach kitsch weigh on us. I remember taking solace in eating a bag of popcorn we bought and staring at this dead fly on the windowsill. When the sun rose we walked outside and I remember Samantha made fun of me when I took a picture of the sunrise. I told her not to be an asshole, nobody is better than the sun.

 On the sidewalk walking home we passed by subarus and lending libraries and stopped to look at the sky. There was a series of six orange lights high above us, moving fast and leaving a small streak of light behind them. We stood there walking with our heads fixed above. We watched them fly across the ocean and over the hills until they were far out of our sight. We didn’t even say anything to each other, we just kept walking by early morning joggers and freshly manicured lawns afterwards, staring at the sidewalk silently. 

That was so long ago now and certainly before I came out and she became a Christian. We just had an unspoken understanding that we needed to head in different directions. So I moved further up the coast here and she got some tech job in the Bay Area. I remember getting these weird emails at the time from this place called Excelsior Corp about test piloting this hardware VPN product. The emails just had one line of text: “Looking for test pilots hardware VPN now” and pictures of this big black box I assumed was the hardware you would have to install to access their VPN. I always sent the emails straight to the trash but somehow they always bypassed my spam and ended up straight in my inbox.

But after some time not talking to Samantha I reached out. I was smoking my wax pen on my porch one night when I saw a bunch of shooting stars shoot over me in rapid succession. I thought of Samantha. I sent her a text asking how she was doing. She told me she’d been well but had been having these weird things happen to her. She mentioned all these emails she’d been getting and that she’d started seeing drones in the sky and lights every few months. I hadn’t seen the lights but I’d gotten the same emails. She was telling me about it and she sounded scared but also she said she was doing well. 

“I’ve got a stable job and you know I go to church and stuff, and there are some really wonderful moments, just now I saw all these incredible shooting stars.” 

She sounded anxious and I was worried for her. I asked her if she liked smoking dabs. She’d never tried one. 

“It’s really chilled me out since that time we took acid.”

“I like my church and alcohol.”

 I was happy though because despite her nervousness she seemed happy. I let her know I’d seen the same shooting stars and she was ecstatic. Since then we’ve texted and called about strange stuff we see, about weird things happening in our phones, about plans for the future, about her theories on the Greeks, about my times engaging in public sex, about the hotel, about god, and about other things. We were friends and I enjoyed hearing about her world, from the far reaches of the front desk of the New Ocean Hotel. 

On the computer screen a wad of Chick-fil-A waffle fries were being squashed into potatoey dough. Me and my manager sat there watching until the steel cylinder had fully flattened the fries and the video faded to black. 

My manager gestured at the steakhouse, “What do you think it's like working there? Surrounded by glass for everyone to see? I could never do that. When I worked in a restaurant the kitchen’s used to be closed off from the eyes of the customers. Now they leave it wide open, I feel like I’d go insane.”

I thought of the owners of the hotel lording over me and reprimanding me every time I looked at youtube. “I’d probably go insane too,” I said. 

“I definitely would.” 

    When my shift was over I walked home and  stopped at the convenience store to buy a pack of gummy sharks.  I chewed on them while thinking about Samantha. I imagined her in church, with some ridiculous outfit on, sitting with her friend. I imagined them both listening intently to the words of the sermon, and getting up from the pews afterwards to fraternize with the other church members. I thought of how all that seemed impossible to me, making conversation to other people in a church. Maybe if I tried hard enough I could imagine it. I tried and my mind thought of being submerged in water. I thought of being in the womb. I thought of what it must be like to feel full. I thought of being in a congregation. What singing with others must feel like. I started to imagine myself there, sitting among the pews unable to join in with everyone’s song. I imagined what it would be like later on during the service, when the pastor gave his sermon. In my mind I listened to him while a stranger next to me reached for a bible on the shelf on the back of the pews and turned to the book of revelations. He placed the bible on my lap while I unbuttoned my pants and unfolded myself hard, smack dab in between the pages that talked about angels, blasphemy and a new Jerusalem. Then I imagined him stroking me while I listened to the sermon, my mind cascading through illuminated halos, until all that remained was a gold blur and me hooing softly like an owl, letting myself leak onto the thin paper pages and onto the carpet below. 

    It was funny to me that after that time taking acid Samantha started going to church and I got a hold on my sexuality. Too much of my life could be periodized around that trip and sometimes I felt at the brink, torn between the life I lived before and the life I was living now. But there was no actual break between the two, and they were both happening at the same time. I knew that in reality my life prior and my life after bled into each other, with experiences since then coloring the way I read the past and my life prior shaping the way I read the present. But a long black fissure stood there in my mind, dividing the two lives while they tried to congeal around the edges of the abyss. From that fissure too came not just me but Samantha, and maybe anyone else who had seen the lights. We sprouted out of it in different directions like vines, crawling out of black depths and over the grey plane of our existence, stretching into the bright orange line of the horizon. 

     My teeth smushed the blue-white body of the gummy shark in two. I chewed one piece and stared briefly at the shimmering half body of gelatin I held in between my two fingers. It would be possible for Samantha’s friend to find a job here. I even had an extra room in the converted apartment of the old Victorian house I rented. Then what? I suppose nothing, I would continue with my life, trying to learn to code and working at the hotel. Who knows what would happen when we met. There was this sensation I had though, that everyone who me and Samantha came in close contact with was somehow also sprouting out of the abyss, extending themselves over that grey plane and trying to reach the sun. 

[canaryatlaw]

alright. well today was.....the first day of the bar exam. Don’t know if I have any better description than that. it was something alright. I woke up to my alarm (which I had set to the Mean Girls song I’ve been using as my pump up song but starts with just Kevin screaming “Yo Yo Mathletes!!”) and did get myself out of bed, I was planning to leave at 6:15 so I had plenty of time to get ready. So I brushed my teeth and changed, they said to dress in layers because the exam rooms might be hot or cold (spoiler alert, it was FREEZING), so I picked a tank top and leggings with a zip up hoodie if needed. The email they sent (they people the people from my school who are trying to get us to pass the bar) yesterday said that when you wake up read a book or something (but no outlines) for 10 minutes to wake up your brain, or something like that, so I read the little local Chicago magazine that they keep in hotels saying all the cool things to do in Chicago this summer. I made the microwave minute muffin that I was telling you all about last night, but I was super careful to stir it all the way so there were no unmoistened bits and it was a wonderful double chocolatey muffin experience that I was very pleased with, and then ate a granola bar for good measure because you know, good breakfasts. when it was like 6:15 I headed downstairs where there were several other law students (recognizable because of the plastic bags we all had with our computers inside them) were all waiting and got in an uber, I thought of maybe sharing with some of them but there are like 3 different test sites all in this area so idk where they all were going. And in this area I mean these are the only sites for all of Chicago (and potentially all of Illinois? don’t quote me on that but that might’ve been the case) and there were a ton of kids from other law schools around, mostly recognizable because they were all wearing stuff from their school which I apparently did not think to do, but oh well. I arrived there around 6:20 (it was a really short ride obviously, that was the point) and got out of the uber to see my bus orgs professor standing there looking slightly confused, and he saw me so I said hi and he said that a group of them were supposed to be here greeting us (which was also in the email from yesterday) and that he had been told to get there at 6:15 but he was now the only person present, which sounded familiar to me always be the on time person. But we chatted a little which was nice, I hadn’t really seen him since the class ended in the fall, and despite me finding bus orgs terribly boring I did rather enjoy him as a professor. So the doors were opening at 6:30, so a bunch of us were just kinda milling around in front of the building. It was on one of the college campuses around here (it’s U of Illinois Chicago) in a building called the “forum” which apparently has large rooms in it where a lot of people can sit for tests. So they open the doors at 6:30, there are metal detectors directly after the doors, and they were checking bags as well. I’m not sure if metal detectors would find the kind of contraband they were actually looking for (like I’m sure it’s good to know there aren’t any guns too, but nobody’s really concerned about sneaking a gun into the bar exam), they were more focused on keeping all electronics out of the room, which is understandable. I still have had my period today but very little cramping, so I didn’t need to use the thingy that I stowed in my bag anyway but wouldn't have been able to use during the test because technically it’s an electronic. But we got through the metal detectors and were directed to tables where we showed them our photo IDs and they gave us our photo name badges which we then had to wear for always the rest of the test. I have the world’s worst photo of me on mine, but it’s technically my fault because I’m the one who uploaded it, but in my defense it was like, two hours before the window for submitting your application was gonna close and like 10 o clock at night so I just took a photo of my unmake-uped face against my white wall without me smiling like they wanted and surprise surprise, it looks terrible, but oh well I’m over it. We then got shown the room where we could leave our stuff we couldn’t bring into the test room, which was pretty much everything. I was using my black legends drawstring bag that we got in Florida, so I left my phone, the charger I brought with me and the external battery (because I’m prepared) along with some food and a gatorade, plus a few other things. The only things we could take into the room were our laptops and chargers, then in a little ziplock bag you could have your photo id, cash/credit card, transportation card, keys, pads and earplugs. We all had giant ziplock bags (the 2 1/2 gallon ones) to carry our laptops and chargers in because that’s what they told us to get. So we got into the test room with our little bags and computers. I found my seat all the way in the front right corner, and this room is BIG, like best estimate there were maybe 2,000 people? You didn’t really see it until everyone went to leave and it was like impossible to get through the doors and then you’re like oh wow, there’s a lot of people here. But I was in the second row, third seat in from the right wall, so pretty much on the edge, but hey it’s fine we got a perfect view of the guy at the podium who was legit right in front of us. They had the two big screens down both displaying a “clock” tab with the time counting up by seconds. In the instructions it had said if we were mac users who didn’t have a usb port you could bring your little converter thing, so I took mine with me just in case, but didn’t think I would need it. I got to the instructions they had on the tables for the computers and it had this whole thing about no usb’s or data transferring devices and I was like shit am I gonna get in trouble for this? So I took it to the proctors right in front and said it said in the instructions that I could bring it but idk if it qualifies under these rules. They both pretty much looked at me like they had no idea what I was talking about, probably because they didn’t understand what the thing actually did, but recommended I go on to the tech people, who I asked and they said oh yeah that’s fine, the other’s just don’t understand how to use things lol so that was solved. I didn’t think I’d need it, I just didn’t want to get in trouble for having it. So I sat down and logged onto my computer, got the exam stuff up and waited. There was this stuff on the program saying if you didn’t have wifi access you’d have to wait to upload your exam answers to later and I was like well that sounds perturbing so I checked if we could get wifi and that was a big nope, so that was a nice little anxiety inducer. Waited for a while, more people came, I think we officially started at either 8:30 or 9, I don’t remember exactly. First was the “Illinois Essay Exam” which is the only part of the test that is completely unique to Illinois, the other portions are all used by other states (most states have switched to what they call the Uniform Bar Exam which has reciprocity across most states, but Illinois isn’t switching until next July [boo], so we instead had pieces of the UBE but not the whole thing). I was a bit nervous about this part because a lot of it depended on knowing where Illinois law differed from the majority law you would otherwise learn, and there was the potential to be hit with some questions from the really fringe subjects like personal property that you know I had a 2 hour lecture on and that was it, so I was glad to see it was mostly mainline stuff, so that wasn’t bad. 90 minutes for that, 3 essays, not bad. After that we switched into the Multistate Performance Test that most other states use as well, and it’s a closed packet of info from which you need to draw up some sort of legal document based on the facts and laws inclosed. I had thought this would probably be the easiest part for me because given all the info I can write stuff no problem, and it definitely wasn’t hard, but it was.....odd. Not like any of the practice ones I’ve done, it was about drafting language for the articles of incorporation of this rugby league and dealing with a bunch of corporate stuff that seemed really easy, like stupid easy? So either I did really well or I totally fucked it up, but I’m fairly certain it was the first lol, so that was a relief, even though the nerdy side of me was like awww now I don’t get to write a long essay that I’m really good at writing, but that’s really okay. We breaked for lunch, I saw a few of my friends briefly but then got separated from them. The deal was that the school was going to bring us lunches, and they were set up somewhere for us to get to. When we left the building there were like 3 other schools set up with their lunches right there but ours weren’t, so I was trying to follow the directions to the spot they said in the email but it was not going well and I could tell I was just getting lost, and I was like fuck it I’ll just get some food from the popeye’s that’s right here, except it all got fucked up and was spicy and I couldn’t eat any of it except the biscuit, so basically lunch was a massive failure on multiple levels, but I had some pretzels in my bag so I wasn’t starving. Got back in and ready to go, the afternoon was the Multistate Essay Exam (don’t you love all these titles?) which was similar to the Illinois one but based on federal/majority law. It still had the opportunity to get into some fringe subjects though. it was 3 hours, 6 essays, so same odds as before. It can be hard for me to tell how well I actually did coming out of a test like that because I’m really good at bs-ing and I know it, so if I can come up with some good bs my mind thinks it’s all good when it could actually not be, but whatever. The first one was a con law question that was about marijuana of course, but was kind of on an odd basis, but I think I got the law part right so that was good. There was one about a corporation where I got to use my favorite line of the day “....because things that do not exist cannot enter into business deals” and one regarding trusts that was probably the biggest fringe subject, but I spent the last few days going over trusts (for like, the first time, but still) so the rules were fairly fresh in my mind and I think I got all of the intricacies of it right. There was one question that was just like straight evidence questions, and like those are my jam, so I get typing and I’m going and going and- oh wait, I hit the character limit and I didn’t even start the third prompt within the question yet. WHOOPS. The character limit was 4600, which really is not very much, so I had to go back and remove the bs I wrote in the first two prompts, just because I knew I could write it, and then wrote my third answer and had to move some more stuff around and delete some more bs, but I ended up with a final product that was exactly 4599 characters, which is really a masterpiece, so I was like alright perfect I’m not touching it from here lol. I ended up finishing with about 20 minutes left, so I read over a few of them and made minor changes, just details and such. Then we were done and had to wait for them to collect all the papers and then account for all of them before we could get released, then of course I had to make it through the massive crowd just to get outside. I did get outside and got an uber to my hotel room because I had to go there for wifi to upload my friggin exam answers, and let me tell you guys, this was the most anxiety inducing thing, because when you click submit on the test it will try to upload the answers but then see you don’t have wifi and be like oh it failed and the proctors are just like “yeah just go home and when you get wifi open the program and it’ll upload the answers” and I’m just like.....you couldn’t have just let us into the wifi you already have set up in this building??? Like do you know how much anxiety this process is going to give me?? The proctor said to make sure we hold onto our laptops as in the previous year someone had actually left theirs on a Chicago public transit bus which was like oH GOD WHY level nightmare, so I was making sure that didn’t happen. The uber took a while to get there because it was rush hour and there was traffic, and while I had been taking the afternoon part of the test I was like I’m gonna get out and text Jess and bug her until she agrees to go get food with me, then when I turned my phone back on and opened twitter I already had a message from her being like I can’t wait till Thursday morning like we originally said I need to see you and get food after the test tomorrow and I was just like bitch come get food with me now which she readily agreed to, which was easier than I expected lol. The uber finally came, I got to my hotel and logged onto wifi so the exam answers would upload, and legit right after they did that I switched a few things out of my bags and then headed back out. I walked a few blocks to the train that’s nearby, it’s the same stop as my church so I was familiar, and took that to the red line and then up to where we had agreed to meet because Jess wanted to take me to her spy restaurant which is really the only restaurant she knows in the city of Chicago (and now that I wrote that she’s probably going to wind up reading it even though she never reads these posts) and we definitely did not get lost getting there, that did not happen, but we did get there and it was cool, you just enter this random door on a building and it brings you to this little entry way where you have to say the “password” and get confirmed, then the wall opens and there are stairs down to the actual restaurant, which was pretty cool, outfitted with a lot of spy and James Bond stuff. We ended up just getting a table by the bar because it was kind of crowded, so we just chilled and she told me literally everything that happened at SDCC this weekend which, let me tell you, was a trip, then we decided we’d split an appetizer of cheese curds, then we were both gonna order the grilled cheese that also contains cheese curds because we are 100% those people lol. The service was kinda slow but I didn’t really care because we were talking and have fun, but of course those are Jess’ stories to tell so I won’t spoil any of them here other than saying she had a ridiculously awesome time, even if it had some stressful moments with stupid security guards. We eventually finished and paid, then ran around the restaurant checking out the rest of the spy stuff and hitting random buttons that caused different things to happen which was pretty cool, then to get out you had to put a dollar in a payphone which would then ring and give you a code which you had to enter, and then the wall would open which led to this staircase down and then up again that was covered with the little name tags they give you to write your “spy name” on, and then when you get to the door you come out in the lobby of this random hotel that’s like, a fully functional hotel, so that was pretty fun. We eventually figured out how to get to the train (read: I wasn’t navigating and Jess only got lost a little bit this time) and we decided to save ice cream for tomorrow even though I wanted ice cream now, because I was also full of cheese curds and other types of cheese. So I got on the red line and then switched to the blue line, then got off and walked the rest of the bit back to the hotel. While walking back my parents called, just wanted to check in so I told them everything and they seemed pretty happy about all of it, so that was good. Since we did all the essays today tomorrow is just going to be the multiple choice questions, 200 of them in two sessions of three hours each, 100 per session. They’re all hypos though so they take a while to answer and the supposed time allotment for each question is 1.8 minutes, so it’s a solid amount of work I’d say. It was like 9:15 by the time I got back and I desperately needed to shower because I hadn't since Monday morning because I didn’t want to have to wake up even earlier this morning to do it, so I got in the shower and changed into my pajamas, watched tv and did internet stuff for a bit before figuring I still had to get up pretty early, though an hour later than today, so that’s an improvement, so I’d better start writing this post and that’s what I did. Of course it took longer than usual because I end up being incredibly detailed about days like today even when I don’t consciously think to do it. Oh well. And now I’m here, it’s almost midnight, and I need to wake up at 6:30 am, so I’m gonna take all of those as reasons why it’s time for me to go to bed now. Goodnight babes. Stay magical.

[violetsystems]

#personal

There’s always levels to depression in anything.  I was reading an article this morning on the “limits of positive thinking.”  America has always had this sing song hum to it when it comes to adversity.  I’m not talking about we shall overcome.  It’s more like “This too shall pass.”  My dad is famous for saying this.  He’s also famous for thinking every major fashion house is a subsidiary of Polo by Ralph Lauren.  When I told my Dad about the job I applied for he said he knew a guy.  I did the google search.  That guy did indeed work for Ralph Lauren and not the company I applied for.  My mom was a little more receptive.  I had forwarded her the resume acceptance email.  She acknowledged it for about fifteen seconds then turned the conversation towards her car problems for the next four minutes.  I call my parents because I am indeed lonely.  I reached out on LinkedIn for the first time into my professional past.  I connected to about fifteen or so people who could be called upon as references.  It feels more like a trial.  That’s where the limits to happiness come into play under constant duress.  I think psychologically applying for my first real job is more significant than the outcome.  The article talks about how people need to be realistic about our goals and expectations.  Everything having a silver lining sounds nice and gets you through week after week.  But when nobody has any real insight about your struggle, you tend to turn inward.  And that is when the depression sets in with varying degrees of intensity.  It’s all a foggy notion at best.  Where do you go in your career after this?  A paycheck, a job, a mission?  I paid my rent yesterday.  The psychological precipice of how am I going to pay for things isn’t as threatening as it would be for other people.  I did have a severance.  I am waiting on more.  I’ve spent most of my time trying to stay at zero so that I can take a financial breather.  Analyze my spending.  Figure out exactly how much I need to survive.  The encouraging thing about having a resume is that applying for things should be a no brainer.  And yet all I see are jobs in the health care industry or some cultish startup black data mining incubators.  Work for a law firm.  Work for Insurance.  Coming from the number two art school in America all these sound horrifying culturally.  Staffing agencies and recruiters are a whole other nightmare.  In a time this dark, you have the tendency to wish for the light.  That your paladin like behavior will some day be rewarded effortlessly.  They’ll just know.  And how will they if they’ve never done a background check or run your name through a government registry?  I’ve already spent two months proving my identity to enough two factor authentication services to know.  The only thing positive I’m about is I know somebody knows my birth name and what I’ve been doing with my life the last twenty or so years.

What I don’t know or feel is that anybody really cares.  And while I did maybe think somebody out there could empathize, I didn’t want to sit here useless.  And so sometimes, trying is about as best as you can do.  And after a coffee fueled morning I had already written my resume for a contract position that ghosted without an interview.  I made the decision to put a head shot on it.  When the algorithm pinged my watch, I saw the logo for the company I was about to apply for.  I felt a rush of hope and maybe something else.  And I cautioned myself as one should do in these situations.  Because I’ve had my heart crushed so many times to know.  If nothing ever comes of it, you can’t say I didn’t try.  You cannot say I didn’t go to all ends of the earth to connect.  And you can’t say the opportunities weren’t there for me to do so.  If one door is open, there is most assuredly another way.  The reality of the job I applied for is that I will probably be disqualified over the fact I don’t live in Shanghai.  Of course, there could be exceptions.  Am I prepared to drop everything and go.  I have to be.  The only difficulty would be the cat I adopted.  And I’m sure my mom could watch her while I figure out a way to transport her too.  But this is all fairy tales I tell myself when the nightmare I’ve been living is all too real.  I connected with elements of my past on LinkedIn more out of ransom.  For two months I have had no contact or outreach from my previous life.  I’ve tiptoed through the neighborhood around people’s suspicions and emotions.  I’ve moved all my plants from the patio so as to not damage the air conditioner.  I’ve vigilantly watched the thermostat I pay the utilities for so the troll below me doesn’t whine.  I go out to shop and people follow me around in t-shirts advertising lawyers or that I should go get a physical with my COBRA benefits.  This is America mind you.  It sounds like what you would expect Russia or China to feel like.  I’ve been to China a couple of times by myself.  I’ve read so many articles from conservative political officials in America who bemoan the risks to privacy the Chinese pose.  I literally installed TikTok to remind myself how much of this is a joke to me.  An Amazon IT staff member recently had made this sweeping security decision to remove it from all phones in the organization.  It was an overreaction at best.  What people worry about the communist party spying on is kind of ridiculous when everyone in America is just as nosy if not more.  The worst is that they do absolutely nothing with the information.  Even if you overshare it.  My only hope these days happens to be the algorithms that surround it all.  I almost connect to people for the dataset and not the company these days.  That’s what networking is all about I guess.  The cognitive dissonance of maintaining completely one-sided professional and personal relationships is truly American.  So is the double speak.  We are free only after we give up all our information and share all our power.  And then we’re lucky to be forgotten about.  

Putting all those emotions behind me is easy.  I have a suitcase.  I have a lot of things still to get rid of.  I don’t know that this is the most mutually beneficial or holistic answer in these times.  Chicago happens to still have one of the only Chinese consulates in the states.  It’s fairly easy and cheap to fly to Shanghai if it’s business.  I don’t leave my house other than to travel.  I have the world’s sickest connection to the internet when it decides to go over 300 megabit.  I built a whole home office to support COVID-19 and it generally is now wasted on video games and streaming.  My side hobby of investment has definitely seen some improvement.  My name is at least on the books at enough companies to know in passing.  Some of those in Shanghai.  Not enough shares to register a full nod or even blink of an eye.  But through this process I came to understand a new way out.  People keep following me around like I’m an asset but it never amounts to much other than being bothersome and annoying.  I don’t literally have any clue what people think about me.  I’m completely alone and shell-shocked one hundred percent of the time.  The only things keeping me sane are of my own volition and cost money to survive.  Come September when the financial result of all of this is actually more real I could conceivably sit out like I planned until my birthday.  This is to say if the right job didn’t come along.  What is the right job for somebody like me?  Why do I feel picked over like a vulture?  You have to go out there and try regardless.  And when things aren’t working out your way, you have to find a way to survive.  This does not mean you have to find a way to stay positive when the evidence is very real.  It’s not just that nobody cares about me here.  Nobody respects me at all really other than a major women’s fashion brand.  I guess I could work for them too.  It definitely feels more realistic than sitting with a bunch of bro-coders who make dick jokes in the workplace and expect you to validate it with a chuckle.  If anything I can say clearly is that the email verification was a simple way of saying that I had officially started my job search.  I don’t actually feel like the position is far off at all.  It was actually one of the only clear and concise job postings I’ve read in the tech industry thus far.  Whatever happens I at least know somebody scanned my name and my headshot before it was filed under G.  I really hope G stands for good boy and not goddamn this guy really went that far to make a connection.  If it is the later of the two scenarios I at least know somebody out there appreciates how far I go to say hello.  I’m not expecting the world out of that.  Barely anybody talks to me at all.  So I’m humble in that fact that I can back up my ridiculous love letters with a professional resume.  In that you know I won’t stop trying.  Just don’t expect me to be positive about it all the time. <3 Tim

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

Sparks Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other members of the avengers team

Word Count: 3.6K 

Summary: y/n goes clubbing with the girls and after viewing her snapchat story Bucky spots Hydra agents lurking. Bucky goes to y/n’s apartment to warn her. He brings her back to the tower and she spends the night at his apartment. They casually share a bed and Bucky has a night terror episode which he is embarrassed/ashamed about. y/n on the other hand isn’t scared or disgusted by her friends night terror. Their friendship gets stronger and Bucky starts to face new feelings about y/n.

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 66 pages. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

August 28, 2015

Bucky’s POV

It’s been almost 2 months since the incident and y/n told me she’s finally healed up enough to take me up on my offer to spar. We have been going out on morning runs for about three weeks now all orchestrated by Steve who is now my ex-running partner. I think the man is secretly very happy that i’m being more outgoing than I was 3 months ago when I first woke up. y/n is good for the soul. I think everyone could use a friend like her. She’s genuinely kind-hearted to everyone and never boring. Despite her kindness, the girl is surprisingly strong. She wasn’t kidding when she said she could kick ass. Which she is proving to me right now. We are at the gym in the tower on a mat. Her leg comes around and before I can move she knocks me to the ground. I do have to admit even though i’m going easy on her she’s knocked me down a couple more times than i’d like to admit to. She stands over me offering me a hand.

“Not bad y/n,” I say.

“Not bad? I was awesome,” she replies. She’s quick i’ve got to give her that.

“Again?” I ask.

“Eh, I’m getting kind of tired,” plus I have to be in the lab in like 20 minutes. She says checking her watch.

“Alright, we still on for our run tomorrow?” I ask.

“Yeah, but it’s saturday and I may be hung over so can we go at like 12 instead of 10?” She asks.

“Hung over?” I ask curiously?

“Yeah i’m going clubbing with some of the girls,” she says. “I would invite you but it’s strictly a girls night and I don’t think I can sneak you in. Well maybe if you curled your hair and I did your makeup” She says jokingly.

“As fun as that sounds, i’ll pass.” I say. We say our goodbyes and part ways as I watch y/n walk to the locker rooms to shower before going up to work. We’ve gotten a lot closer during our time together and i’m really starting to consider her a close friend.

…

Its around 1am and i’m in my room looking through my phone. I open the snapchat app that y/n introduced me to and go through her story. It’s a bunch of selfies of her, Wanda, Nat, Cho and a couple other girls I don’t know. y/n seems lively as ever and about 10 times drunker than usual. She also posted videos of her in the club dancing with flashing lights going off around her. I watch her entire story when I spot something out of place. I almost didn’t see it. It was just a glimpse and I had to replay her entire story again just to make sure. She’s in a crowded club surrounded by people sitting on a bar stool taking shots. Behind her in the distance in a very grainy video clip is a man. A very familiar looking man that I recognize. At first glance he seems like any other guy at a club wearing a blazer. But I knew him very well during my days at hydra, or at least I knew of him. I crossed paths with him in the late 90s. He was a headhunter of sorts. Hydra used to contract him out on recon missions to gather intel from high level government agents. His information gathering techniques weren’t as nice as simple question and answer time. It doesn’t take long to fill in the blanks. Wanda and Nat are high level field agents no way he’d go after them, plus going after them would involve infiltrating the tower which he can’t do. The other girls in the group are civilians, he wouldn’t care about them. Cho and y/n are the most likely targets. Working in the labs they would be the ones with the most information. I check the timestamp on the video and it was posted an hour ago. I quickly put out a SOS and the first person to arrive back at the tower is Tony. I explain the situation Tony does his usual tech stuff to run through video camera footage at and around the area of the club. I try to get any of the girls on their phones and fail. y/n’s phone keeps going to voicemail and so does Wanda’s while Nat and Cho don’t answer. y/n can take care of herself I know that, but Cho. Not to mention y/n’s probably off her game from the drinking which leads me to run through some scary possibilities facing both of them. Tony is tapping away at a keyboard along with two other agents on call tonight. After about twenty minutes of failure to contact them, Steve walks into the large security room with Nat and Wanda and says, “I found them, they just got back.”

“Whats going on?” Nat says.

“You had a tail tonight,” Tony says explaining the entire situation to them.

“Where is Cho and y/n?” I ask.

“Uh, they both got in an uber to go home,” Wanda says. “y/n’s phone died she caught a ride with Cho.”

Steve and I looked at each other, “You get y/n, i’ll get Cho,” Steve says. I run out to the garage and get on my motorbike speeding through the streets to y/n’s apartment. I’ve been there bored twice it’s not far just a 3 minute ride. I don’t want to draw attention to myself so I park a couple buildings away and check my surroundings. If he’s going after y/n I don’t want to spook him away. I want to catch him now and take him in. I stealthly make my way up y/n’s fire escape, she’s on the 7th floor. I slowly and quietly open a window and go through it. I’m in her bedroom it’s empty. Maybe she’s not home yet. Then I hear someone walking towards the room. It’s a woman’s steps, I hear the clicking of her heels. It’s dark in her room and i’m still standing by the window right next to the door.

y/n’s POV

I’m really tipsy and i’m praying I make it to my bed without falling. I throw the key on the table by the door and lock my door. I wobble towards my bedroom. Unzipping the back of my dress as I walk. Its tight and uncomfortable but man did I look good tonight. But i’m too lazy to take it off now. So, I settle for just unzipping the back. I walk into my bedroom and make my way to the bed. Wait something’s not right. Then I realize there’s a figure standing next to my window blocking some of the moonlight.

Bucky’s POV

y/n doesn’t see me at first but then she does and she’s quick even when she’s drunk and she turns around throwing a hard blow to my neck. Ouch. I reach back around her grabbing her arm and shoulder. I wrap my arm around her pulling her back towards me. I quickly cover her mouth with my hand. Her back is pressed to my front and I can feel that the back of her dress is unzipped. I whisper, “it’s me, Bucky.” Before she can say anything we hear another noise coming from the kitchen a clang, someone’s knocked something over. She stops moving for a second. “I think someone's in here with you, we think he followed you.” My hand is still over y/n’s mouth and she mumbles against it. “Shh” I say in response. I see a shadow moving towards the door and I get ready to attack. y/n paws at my hand and the entirely dramatic moment ends in a white cat walking through the bedroom door looking up at us with a meow and then proceeding to walk past us towards y/n’s bed. y/n pushes off me and I release the hand over her mouth.

“What the fuck Bucky the only person who's in here is you,” she says glaring at me in the dark. I walk over and turn the lights on. I walk through the apartment double checking to make sure no one else is in here. “Bucky!” she says following me.

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” I say the only two times i’d come around here I didn’t notice a cat.

“I don’t it’s my neighbors she visits sometimes,” y/n says still glaring at me. “Why the fuck are you here? You scared the daylights out of me.”

y/n’s POV

“Cho,” he says before pulling out his phone and dialing someone. “He’s not here, did you get to Cho’s?” I walk over to him and rest my head along side his to hear who he was talking to on the phone. In heels i’m almost as tall as he is. I can faintly hear what sounds like Steve’s voice on the other side of the line.

“We intercepted her Uber before she got home, I picked her up right now. She’s safe.” Something happened to Cho? No, I think to myself. Well she’s with Steve now. What was going on? My brain felt fuzzy and my eyes were tired. I was leaning my head against Bucky’s right hand where he was holding the phone to his ear. I was trying to better hear what was going on, on the other side of the line.

“Okay, good i’m with y/n now. I’ll meet you back at the tower.” Bucky says before hanging up. He turns towards me and our faces are millimeters apart, I look up at him and he says, “you smell like vodka.” I smack him right on the back of his head with my palm. “Ouch, what was that for?” he says with puppy dog eyes.

“Of course I smell like vodka I’ve been drinking it all night. Now tell me what’s going on.” I say.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything once we are back at the tower,” he says looking around. “No first go pack a bag you’re going to need it.”

“No,” I say taking a stand, well a metaphorical stand because I don’t think my legs can hold out any longer so I take a seat on the sofa. “tell me whats going on,” I demand.

“Fine I’ll do it for you,” he says making his way to the bedroom. I’m way to out of it to follow him and try to stop him. So I narrow my eyes at him and steadily hold my position on the sofa.

Bucky’s POV

I walk into her bedroom, the white cat is still comfortably situated on her bedspread. I open her closet and find a tan backpack and grab it. I grab along with it some jeans and a couple t-shirts. I walk to her dresser and find her interesting lingerie collection. No time for comments, I chide my thoughts and shove some undies into the bag along with a couple bras. I walk over to her bathroom grab her toothbrush. I walk back out to the living room put her laptop into the bag and her chargers and zip it up. Her eyes on burning holes into me as I toss her the bag. “Come on let’s go,” I say.

“I’m not moving till you tell me what’s going on. What happened to Cho?” She says. She looks tired but still amazing, I haven’t seen her this dolled up since… well ever. She looks a lot different than the y/n I see everyday.

“You’re stubborn when you’re drunk,” I say. She answers me with silence. I sit down across from her on the wooden coffee table and put my hands on the side of her knees. “We, the team and I, think someone followed you to the club. Some I know from my Hydra days. It was only reasonable to assume he was after either you or Cho. Now come with me back to the tower before we have a nasty run in with a superspy headhunter and i’ll explain everything to you in detail.”

She gets up and turns around, “zip me up.” I zip up her dress and she turns back around facing me, “thanks.” She sighs and then leans over grabs the backpack and puts it on. She walks over to the door slipping her heels off and slipping on a pair of sneakers. “Let’s go,” she says grabbing her keys and phone off the table. I follow her out. Down the stairs and out to my bike. Crap my bike, I realize I should have brought my car. A motorcycle ride with a drunk girl not a good idea. Almost as if she can read my mind she says, “I’ll be fine, i’ll just… I don’t know close my eyes.” I get on and she gets on behind me wrapping her arms around my chest tightly. It’s only a short 3 minutes ride and we are in the garage.

y/n’s POV

It’s a short ride but it still scrambled my brain about 10 times more on top of the being woozy already from drinking. The bike slowly comes to a stop and my body is still pressed flush against Bucky and i’m fighting the urge to throw up. My cheek feels cool resting against his leather jacket. We sit there in silence for about 2 more minutes like this.

“y/n,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Mmmmm,” I moan slowly peeling myself off his back and getting off the bike. The urge to barf has subsided but my head's still spinning.

“Want me to carry you?” he says. I can’t tell if he is teasing or genuinely concerned.

Either way I say, “No, I am perfectly capable of walking thank you,” and make my way towards the elevators slowly. We ride up to the security floor and find Nat, Wanda, Steve and Tony all scanning through security footage and a equally hungover Cho sitting on a chair staring up at the ceiling. I walk towards her and take a seat next to her. “You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says weakly. Tony explains the situation so far. Agents are out at both our appartments keeping an eye out to see if any sketchy figures show and Tony is trying to trace the Hydra agents footsteps from the club through security footage. I honestly stopped caring what was happening after I saw Cho was okay but I do my best to listen to the progress reports. About a hour later Wanda and Cho leave to go to crash in her room. Whilst Steve is hot on the trail of the Hydra agent with Nat. Somehow no matter how much Nat drinks she’s still at the top of her game. Tony’s facial recognition program picked up the Hydra agent, known as Maddox, running a red light about 20 minutes away from here. Nat and Steve went to investigate while Tony runs point from the security room. I want to know what’s happening so despite Wanda’s offer to stay with her I volunteer to stay in the security room to keep myself updated. Around 40 minutes in I’m sound asleep, my head against a desk.

Bucky’s POV

It’s almost 4am and Steve and Nat just called it quits on tracking Maddox the man was good, definitely good enough to avoid security cameras. y/n was sound asleep on a security desk when Tony called Steve and Nat back in from the field.

“Looks like she’s out,” Tony said pointing to y/n.

“Yeah, i’ll get her to bed,” I say. I grab the backpack she dropped and put it over my shoulder. I walk over to y/n and slowly and carefully lift her up from the chair she’s on. I walk towards the elevator and make sure not to wake her as I carry her. But halfway through the ride wakes up and squints her eyes at me.

“Put me down,” she says in a dry voice. She strong and she's stubborn and in the couple weeks i’ve known her i’ve come to realize she hates looking weak. Even if that means accepting help from others.

“No, sometimes you have to accept the fact that you need help y/n. You can’t do everything alone.” I say.

“You’re one to talk,” she mumbles back. I walk to my apartment and sit her down on my bed.

“I’ll take the sofa,” I say making my way to the door.

“Don’t be such a baby, we are two grown adults. We can share a bed Buck,” she says. If it wasn’t so dark i’d say she was rolling her eyes. She slips off her shoes and digs through her backpack. “You forgot to pack pajamas,” she says.

“Would this work?” I say walking over to my nightstand and tossing her one of my grey t-shirts.

She grabs it and says, “turn around,” I hear the distinct sound of her unzipping her dress and tossing it on the floor. Then I hear the sound of my covers. “Okay you’re good,” she says. She’s cuddled up on the right side of my bed and I don’t have the heart to tell her that the right side is usually where I sleep so I just take the left. She drifts off before me and i’m left facing new emotions that I don’t think I’m ready to face. So I put them away and bury them deep down.

y/n’s POV

I hear a pained moan that pulls me out of my sleep. I look at the bedside clock but it’s not there. What? Wait i’m not in my bed. The events of last night come back to me and then I turn to see Bucky covered in sweat tossing in his sleep mumbling something. I rub my eyes and reach over to shake him awake. I barely touch him before he grabs my wrist and pins it down above my head. He is awake, or not I don’t know. But his eyes are open and they are frantically staring down at me filled with fear. He’s half on top of me and he’s heavy. I almost knee him but then I stop myself and realize he is probably having some sort of night terror. Instead I talk him out of it, “Bucky, wake up” I whisper. “It’s me y/n,” slowly he snaps out of his episode and recognition fills his eyes. Then what can only be described as once again fear.

“Shit, i’m so sorry y/n,” he begins what I can tell is going to be a very long winded apology and I’m just way to sleepy to hear it.

Instead I say, “Can you get me some water?” He jumps up and in a few seconds he is back with a glass of water, which i’m very grateful for. I drink the entire thing and set the glass on the nightstand. I look across the room to find a clock which reads 6.54am. I look back up in the dark to find Bucky still standing in front of me at the side of the bed. I can already tell what he’s feeling. And as much as I’d like to have a long conversation at 7am in the morning about insecurities. I’m hungover and tired so I simply just say, “you can lie back down. I don’t bite.” To which I get no response. There only one way i’m going to get him back in bed so I just say it. I say it even if I don’t mean it because I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable or bad about the episode he had just had. “Bucky, i’m hungover and sleepy and i’m going to be honest i’m a little scared because some Hydra maniac is after me. So can you just get back in bed because I really don’t want to be alone right now.” I move over to the left side of the bed and stare at him. He doesn’t say anything instead he just slips back in under the covers and I drift back asleep.

Bucky’s POV

That’s when I knew I was in trouble. When she sleepily uttered those words. I recall them while staring at the ceiling it’s 7.03am and her breathing has slowed back down indicating that she was fast asleep: “I’m a little scared because some hydra maniac is after me. So can you just get back in bed because I really don’t want to be alone right now.” I remember it word for word. And I knew it was all a lie when they came out of her. I’ve know y/n long enough to know she isn’t scared of many things and even if she was she doesn’t like to admit it. And she definitely isn’t scared of Maddox attacking her while she’s in a secure tower. She said it because she wanted me to feel comfortable, she said those words to let me know that my little episode earlier hadn’t bothered her. And that’s when I knew I was in trouble. All those feelings I buried only a couple hours earlier came bubbling up to the surface. And boy was I in trouble. This girl who sleeps peacefully next to me this very second. This girl who hates asking for help or admitting to fear. Just lied to spare my feelings then proceeded to fall asleep peacefully, she wasn’t scared or disgusted, and that was beautiful. She turned in her sleep, her back was to me now. She was on the other end of the bed and I was so tempted to reach out and touch her. Just to make sure she was real and not some grand illusion. I had to make sure. I reached out and poked her shoulder very gently to feel the soft material of my t-shirt and pulled my finger back immediately.  

[hook-on-fandoms]

Karaoke Night

As promised. My happy headcanon auish apology to @raynbow-shimmer . Hope it brings a smile to your (and anyone else that reads it) face(s). 

A few days after Kara and them went back to their Earth Joe snuck into Cisco’s lab while everyone else was out doing other stuff:

Joe: Hey Cisco, mind if I make a suggestion for the next Star Labs movie night?

Cisco: Go ahead. What do you have in mind?

Joe: Karaoke. Just do karaoke the whole night. It’s been years since I’ve heard that boy sing and it would probably be good for the spirits of the team as a whole to just kick back and do something fun.

Cisco: Hell yea, but you have to convince everyone and help me collect songs.

Joe: Deal, no need to convince anyone if they don’t know til it happens. Plus telling people before hand is practically inviting someone to try and destroy the city that day in our lives.

Cisco: Very true.

So over the next few days Cisco worked on making his own karaoke machine (it’s funner than going out and buying/renting one) while Joe made the play list.

Day of Cisco vibed out a half hour before movie night began claiming he was inviting Cynthia which he did:

Cynthia: Seriously Cisco it’s my job to capture and potentially kill people that do this. You need to stop just vibing onto my earth like this.

Cisco: We’re doing karaoke tonight. You can’t tell me you aren’t interested.

Cynthia: I’ll be there in 15. I just need to stop by my apartment and pick up my play list. You better believe I’m gonna rock you guys with some E19 songs.

but then he hoped onto E39 right into the middle of the DEO where everyone including James and Maggie were and completely ignored all the agents on the skeleton crew that pulled guns on him.

Cisco: Hey guys, Karaoke night on my Earth and you all are coming. No excuses. I vibed before I came and saw you weren’t in the middle of anything time sensitive so what do you say?

Maggie (whispering in the background): His Earth?!?!

Alex (whispering back): Yea, I’ll explain that in a bit. Short version. Multiverse theory is correct.

J’ohn: You know this is a secret government facility. Just vibing in like that, which you still have to explain what that is by the way, is a good way to get yourself shot. And speaking of this being a secret government facility, this is our job which we have responsibilities to uphold.

Cisco: Yea, and building and strengthening ties to other organizations that can help in your goals is one of those responsibilities. Come on, it’ll be fun. Lots of singing, relaxing with others that know what it’s like, and junk food like M&Ms and Oreos and stuff.

J’ohn: Fine. 

And of course, the Legends were due for some down time and ended up checking in with their friends in 2017 with Stein even bringing Clarissa and Lily.

So by the time it all started the cortex was full with 3 teams of superheroes and a proper stage was made.

Half way through.

Maggie: Wait, you guys don’t have any alcohol here that can get you two or Kara drunk.

Barry: No...our metabolisms work too fast for that to happen. It is impossible for us to get drunk. Isn’t it?

Maggie: Oh hell no. Yo Cisco, we need to make a pit stop back on our Earth. No way we can continue without those three at least having the choice of getting absolutely plastered.

Wally: I’m not 21 yet.

Maggie: Okay those two plastered.

30 minutes later a drunk Barry and Kara were on stage singing their Superfriends song.

60 minutes later.

Alex: Thanks guys, I think we all needed this. Though I thought you said something about Oreos. I haven’t seen a single one yet?

J’ohn (from across the room): He said M&Ms not Oreos. Oreos were never mentioned. Oreos don’t exist. Stop asking about Oreos Agent Danvers that’s an order.

Alex: Okay...

Jax: We can supply some Oreos if you want. Just tell us your favorite kind. What do you say, Gray?

Stein: More practice never hurts (fuses into one).

Alex: I’m not even going to ask. Double stuffed?

Jax and Stein transmutate a stack of blank copy paper into double stuffed Oreos and J’ohn appears behind them and eats one before Alex can even blink.

J’ohn: They taste just like packaged ones. If you two ever tire of being Legends there is room for you in the DEO.

After everyone practically sang with everyone it was determined that E38 people would be spending the night and Cisco and Cynthia would bring them back to their Earth in the morning...later in the morning. Okay afternoon but it’s Saturday so who cares. Winn was the only one prepared to spend the night.

Winn: Not even 5 minutes before Kara was whammied I expressed interest in meeting this guy so we could talk tech and whatever else that led to. And you left me on E38. Of course, I brought a change of clothes. I planned on being mysteriously absent when you all went back tonight and hoped no one realized until afterward so I could get a good look at all of this tech. And judging by the work he did on the karaoke machine alone I regret nothing.

Cisco: I don’t mind vibing him back Sunday if you guys don’t need him before then.

Winn: PLEASE. We’ve met AT LEAST what 6 or 7 people he’s worked on their superhero suit and or tech with talk of there being even MORE. Nothing but good things could come from letting us bounce ideas off each other.

J’ohn: I can think of not good things that could come from it. But sure. Just don’t blow anything up.

Cisco and Winn (after quickly glancing at each other): We make no promises.

Elsewhere:

James: Before we head back tomorrow you are going to have to tell me more about your work as an investigative journalist.

Iris: Sure, I can bring you to the office, BUT you have to show me some of your work.

James: Deal, you think I could convince Cisco to give me one of those communicator things. It’s not often I can talk to another reporter about being inside the biggest story you never want to tell. I know I have Kara and Clark for that but it’s still nice to be able to talk to someone who is in it but not in the same it.

Iris: I know right and leave it to me. I’ll try and get you two so your friend Winn has one he can take apart and see how it ticks as much as he wants.

James: Smart plan.

Wally: So how did you guys do that? None of the physics covered in my classes even begin to go into the possibility of that.

Jax: Yea, the theory is a bit much. Practical application is just better. What are you majoring in?

Wally: Engineering. I always wanted to go faster, which works out all things considering, and that seemed the natural next step after drag racing.

Jax: Sweet, I use to be a mechanic before all of this. Now I keep the time ship in one piece along with all of the other stuff. Want to see it?

Wally: Hell yes, lead the way.

Joe: Ever feel like your the dad of a bunch of kids in charge of saving the world?

Rip and J’ohn: Every freaking day.

Rip: Best days are the ones when you go back and forth from the world is doomed to the world couldn’t be in better hands.

Joe: Yea. Still scary though. Balancing your want for the world to be safe and your children to be.

J’ohn: Yea, but I wouldn’t trade this for the world any of the worlds.