#enjoy some 2000s bops

[overturetoanadventure]

Can someone explain to me why this song makes me feel sad n sentimental ??

[themarysuep]

I kinda liked Madame Web. It worked fine as an origin story for Cassie:

1. I know they were some weird plot holes and things that could have been executed better. And since this movie was not a part of the mcu, the writers didn't have the excuse that they'd have to go through 50000 movies and shows to make sure there's no plot holes. They could have focused on their story and ensured it was solid. But alas in this house we give female led superhero projects a chance.

BUT

2. I liked how originally the disease was supposed to take her sight, and her mother fought to prevent that and she did. She'd have lost her sight and been a mutant (according to the comics) if her mother wasn't so dedicated to saving her. But she couldn't really escape her fate and eventually lost her sight in the final fight and the spiders gave her powers.

3. Ezekiel was a fun 'spider people' villain. There was something a little more scary about having a villain that uses physical combat and powers to fight 4 heroes with no powers / only precog or mental powers. And him brutally killing the 4 of them in Cassie's visions was kinda dark. Ezekiel is a dope villain name for some reason too.

4. Peter Parker being only the side plot was kinda fun. I loved a young Mary Parker played by Emma Roberts and the constant little hints about who her baby is. The last scene where Anya (I think) tells Cassie that Ben is enjoying being an uncle with none of the responsibility and Cassie responds with like.... that's what he thinks. That was oddly depressing bc she knew Mary wouldn't live long despite her being perfectly fine.

5. The time setting was a win for me. And all the 2000s bops. I need a coat like Cassie's.

6. The teens behaved like teens. They weren't over the top like Pretty Little Liars or Euphoria or something. But they also weren't as unique as Kamala. They were just normal girls, who were good enough people that I'd believe they'd become the superheroes Cassie envisioned.

[mariacrow]

Could I request a headcannon for TFP characters on their favorite genre of music? Maybe also them listening to said music with a female reader? However you wish to spin it 😊

~TFP characters~

🎵 their favorite music genre 🎵

2nd person

female reader

WARNING: TOO MUCH SHMOOVING 🕺🎶

Dividers belong to @friedchickenburguer 🖤

❃ AUTOBOTS ❃

🎼 Optimus Prime

He doesn’t express his passion for music, he keeps that in private

He loves old music, precisely from 40s and 50s

He likes the sounds of gentle trumpets, trombones, violins etc.

He likes it slow and classy, something relaxing

Jazz might be his thing too

When he’s driving alone he loves keeping the radio on a super vintage radio station

When he’s with you he’d be kinda shy to play it, assuming you don’t like it because you’re born in such modern time

When (if) you’d assure him you like it, you’d warm his spark as he’d finally get to share and enjoy the music he likes with you

He’d tell you why he likes each song and which part is his favorite

🎼 Ratchet

He’d claim he hates music, how it’s merely a distraction

Nonetheless, when you or any of the kids would play something in the base, at times he wouldn’t immediately tell you to turn it off or keep it down because he’d like it

His preference isn’t clear because you could catch him slightly moving to the beat to song from the 80s over 2000s to the newest

He wouldn’t even notice he’s slightly shmooving to the beat

Only when you’d giggle and tell him he’s got some moves, he’d get flustered and immediately stop, denying it

After some time, he’d admit he likes some songs you’d play and would allow you to use the radio when he’s driving you

🎼 Bumblebee

Definitely a 70s and 80s boi

He loves shmooving like crazy

Play ABBA or something and he’s all over the place and no one can stop him

He’s very stubborn when it comes to his music taste and will openly tell you when he thinks your music taste is trash or if it’s his favorite

While in the car, he wouldn’t let you touch the radio- heck he wouldn’t let you get NEAR IT if you aren’t planning to play a song he likes

He’s the head DJ in the car AND in the base

When Ratchet tells him to turn it off or lower the volume, he’d just turn it up to annoy him and dance all over the place

🎼 Bulkhead

ROCK N ROLL BABYYYYY

Miko and him are replacing Bumblebee when he’s absent

2nd head DJs in the base

He’s all about that electric guitar and drums

He likes some of heavy metal too

If you like this kind of music, you’d be a part of their band

Ratchet’s biggest nightmare is that goddamn guitar of Miko’s I’m telling you

Of course Wheeljack is a part of the band as well

You and Miko in the front seat shmooving to some heavy guitar and screaming the lyrics while he’s flooring it through the city is another one of his fav bonding moments

🎼 Arcee

Definitely likes something calm she can sing to

For example Lana Del Rey but also something classy like Amy Whinehouse

Definitely your favorite feminist, prefers female artists

She actually sings beautifully but is kinda shy to show her talent

Perhaps she’d show it to you if she’d you’d encourage her enough

If you like to sing this is your chance to sing with her and have girly concert Fridays!

She’d actually love concerts and would gladly drive you to any you wish to see

Would ONLY share her music taste with you

🎼 Wheeljack

Not only rock n roll, aggressive type of music in general

Perhaps something modern too, like phonk for example

He likes something that makes the lights flash in the club and that can make his helm bop in a quick manner

Max volume all the time, especially in his ship when he’s alone or when driving

Would appreciate your company if you don’t mind the speakers making you bounce in your seat

He’s a great opportunity for a good o’ music vent

If you feel pent up he’s a great partner to just let it out with the help of music with him

He also likes some jazz, especially during intimacy

🎼 Smokescreen

His music taste can be very basic

He’s quite flexible and actually rarely dislikes any song you show him

He lets you fidget with the radio when he’s driving you

At times he can be greedy and start a stupid funny argument about who’s gonna choose a radio station or play the next song

Sometimes he can lean more towards rap and trap, especially 2000s

He likes freaky lyrics he can spontaneously flirt with like “Freek-a-leek” or “Baby Got Back”

He loves to dance and thinks he has good moved while in fact he look too funny trying to impress everyone, especially you

🎼 Ultra Magnus

Music? What’s that?

Well perhaps he would secretly like some songs you’d play in the base

And he’d secretly explore the radio stations while driving alone

He likes classy music with meaningful lyrics

Perhaps Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra would be his top choice

Absolutely despises modern music, doesn’t understand it a all

For him, a song means a catchy tune with lyrics that he can devote to someone, that remind him of someone or himself or just have a deep meaning

VERY BY THE BOOK!

When you’d catch him enjoying some music he’d deny it in any possible way

His music taste is a top secret!!!

Divider belongs to @attxnt 🖤

✦ DECEPTICONS ✦

🎼 Megatron

At first he’d find anything that humans create primitive, as well as music

But I mean how can you not like our music, some stuff is really catchy!

When the Nemesis would accidentally catch a radio signal he’d immediately order Soundwave to turn it off

But when he hears a nice electric guitar and some bass he’d like it

Not that he’d admit though, never

He isn’t a fan of… joy lmao so he wouldn’t listen to any music on his own

When you’d play some music in the lab, he’d scold you and tell you to keep it down

But when he doesn’t yell at you to turn it off immediately that’s when you know he likes it

🎼 Starscream

Definitely a huge Lady Gaga fan

When he’s alone he blasts it and sings, dances, imagines he’s on a concert, the main star

His ego would take over when he’d imagine a thick crowd shouting “All hail superstar Stascream!” or something

He’d reject any other artist, Lady Gaga is his one and only

He’d even order you to play Lady Gaga in the lab

If you wouldn’t do it, he’d remind you who he is, your commander and that you shall oblige

He’d tell you how your music taste is primitive and how only Lady Gaga is the real queen

🎼 Knockout

Also a Lady Gaga fan but not as big as Starscream

He’s more flexible when it comes to music but he definitely prefers classy female singers

An artist needs to be aesthetically pleasing to him, especially their voice

He likes when a woman’s voice is dominating in the song more than the instruments

Lyrics needs to be stuck in his head so he’d officially say he likes the song

He’d let you show him some of your favorite songs and he’d openly tell you if it’s trash or not

Would definitely argue with you over who’s gonna play music in the lab

You’d argue to the point Shockwave would have to take your source of music and put it away

🎼 Breakdown

RAAAAAAHHH!!!

Sex, violence, murder, violence, gambling, greed, lechery- (that Tom Hardy meme)

Definitely likes his song loud and explicit

He also likes hardstyle, it REALLY gets him going before battle, aggressive phonk too

Anything that can express his inner aggression is his thing

But don’t let this fool you

When he’s alone and emotional he cries to sad songs

Lana Del Rey really strikes his heart especially because he’s in love with her and her voice

If you ever catch him crying to Lana, he’ll deny it

With you he’d prefer blasting some hardstyle or rap in the car

If you don’t like it, he’s gonna do it anyway because he’d play it so loudly that he probably won’t even hear you complain

🎼 Dreadwing

Again not someone who listens to music on his own

Nevertheless, he likes romantic tunes he can gently sway with you to

Deep down he’s a romantic soul which you’d realize when in private with him

And he’s very intelligent too which would intrigue him to search for some high class music by Earth’s most popular compositors (Beethoven for example)

A gentle piano and violin as well as violoncello are his fav

He’d be impressed by our instruments, he can get curious hence he would like to ask you and discuss with you about them

He doesn’t understand modern music and really doesn’t like it

Though he might like some unique musicians of the 21st century

🎼 Soundwave

He’s an open book really, he knows everything about human music

He’s also a type of mech to avoid lyrics

He prefers only instruments, from old acoustic to new electric

Unlike Dreadwing, he likes his music a bit faster with more energy that can make the line on his visor dance

He rarely listens to music though, he’s too busy

He’d get curious to know your taste of music so he might stalk sound waves coming from your device

He’d surprise you when he’d play some music for you

Of course he’d prefer all that to stay a secret between you two

🎼 Shockwave

Music is a distraction for him

No music allowed in the lab when he’s there

Though because he’s fond of you he might let you play some but quietly

He doesn’t really have a preference, he’s too busy to even pay attention to what you’re playing

Nonetheless SOME tunes might catch his attention and make his antennas wriggle

It would probably be some older music with no drums or bass or anything, just pure, gentle tones and voices

He would keep it to himself but maybe, just maybe, he’d occasionally tell you he approves your choice

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (fem) reader ⛏️

(Gyaru Reader Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Request here! This kind of fashion is so cute, good, and creative, seriously don’t understand the hate.)

- When y’all first met they were so amazed by you, I mean you looked like you strutted straight out of the 1990s and 2000s, in a good way of course.

- Getting together entails them wanting to be as helpful as possible, as well as taking the time to admire all the work you put in your style. You have them wrapped around your finger.

- An obvious one is that they buy you stuff all the time, absolutely gushing over how you look whenever you wear the stuff they give you— Clapping their hands excitedly when you pose and give them a twirl or two when you first put the stuff on.

- Stares at you intently when you’re doing your makeup, giggling when you give them a look because their staring is distracting as all hell.

- If you want to practice on a face that isn’t your own, they will happily volunteer! I think they’d look cute with Gyaru makeup on!

- Excitably tells you things about historical facts about makeup like, “You know— Egyptians used to apply their eyeliner with a thin painting brush! Though the way you do it is way prettier!”

- They’d also let you do their hair, and be over the moon with the final product every time <3.

-Do yours in return. Not as great as you do it but they still do a pretty good job (cause like, look at their hair, fluffy and healthy while digging holes and just being dirty in general, they know how to take care of hair).

- Eats up any information they can, a given really, but I can see them reading a crap ton of magazines like Egg, PopSister, etc.

- In general when it comes to what you like, they are hungry for any information about it. They want to understand it and understand it they shall.

- Will get you matching accessories (gem or history themed ofc), there’s no doubt about that, it’s absolutely adorable.

- Thinks the music tied to Gyaru fashion is just so good in general that they immediately want to make a playlist with you so they can listen more to it.

- Whenever they hold hands with you they will absentmindedly play with any little charms or gems on your nails, running their fingers over them— Enjoying the grooves and bumps as they walk alongside you.

- Speaking about walking together, it’s definitely a sight seeing such different people walking hand in hand. Like, there’s you, tanned skin, phenomenal makeup, long manicured nails, white fluffy boots that almost go up to your knees, nice baby pink ruffled skirt with a cheetah print belt, a short white frilly shirt, and a small soft pink fuzzy coat with cheetah prints on it as well— Just all nice and glammed up while….

- There’s Sloane, looking like Adam Sandler, with a baseball cap, basketball shorts, and some random shirt that has a lame ass rock pun on it. And we love them for that.

- A funny ass sight in my honest opinion—

- Anyways, if anyone starts bad mouthing you and your fashion, especially if they call it “trashy”, they’re going to give them one warning before bopping them on the head.

- The amount of disrespect and negativity other people have for Gyaru fashion is just so crazy to Venture.

- From what they’ve seen from both you and other people who partake in it, y’all are so pretty and fashionable! If you ever get discouraged you can always count on this rock muncher being your number one fan.

- Says things along the lines of “You look absolutely breathtaking sweetness! You put the most precious gems to shame, sucks that some people have their brains submerged in the Earth's mantle like them.”

(I hope I gave you guys justice with this one! Love y’all!! 💋)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 9: A Long December]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: While “A Long December” was originally released by Counting Crows in 1996 (and is thus compliant with the 90s theme), the version I listen to most is Girlhouse’s cover from 2022. So maybe check that out. It is a bop!

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, a tiny bit of sexual content, Christmas with Momtini and Dadtini, Kimmie making a realization, Aegon making a drink, Appletini making plans, Trent making some killer pool shots, the Ice Fisher getting into the holiday spirit, please enjoy this nice little respite before the events of Chapter 10. :)

Word count: 6.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: ​​​​@elsolario​ @ladylannisterxo​ @doingfondue​ @tclegane​ @quartzs-posts​ @liathelioness​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @thelittleswanao3​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @hinata7346​ @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ @eddies-bat-tattoos​ @minttea07​ @joliettes​ @trifoliumviridi​ @bornbetter​ @flowerpotmage​ @thewitch-lives​ @courtenbae​ @tempt-ress​ @padfooteyes​ @teenagecriminalmastermind​ @chelsey01​ @anditsmywholeheart​ 

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

You descend the staircase gingery, sheepishly. Your socks slip on the hardwood steps like tires on black ice. You’re trying to avoid your parents, but you can’t wait any longer to eat breakfast or you’ll be late for work. They’re bustling around in the kitchen: cracking eggs, chitchatting, banging plates and pans, cooing over Sunfyre, listening to an R.E.M. album that spins on the record player.

When you walk in, your dad is standing by the stove wearing the apron you got him for his 50th birthday. Pizza Slut, it says. He grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey, ladybug.”

“Oh no.”

“I heard you come home pretty late last night. And then you got right into the shower. Hmm.”

“Hmm!” your mom concurs joyfully.

Your dad nods to the pan he’s hovering over, wielding a spatula. “Salmon omelet?”

You sigh, defeated; and yet, you must admit, you love salmon omelets. “Yeah, sure.” You sit down at the table next to your mom. She’s drinking Earl Grey tea smokey with cream and reading a newspaper: Halle Barry is marrying a jazz musician, Puff Daddy’s Notorious.com is looking for a venture capitalist willing to invest $7.5 million in startup funding, a man was arrested in Times Square for threatening President Clinton, the Nasdaq composite index—fueled largely by the dot-com boom—could hit 5,000 by the end of 2000. You wonder what Aegon’s family is doing right now. Do outrageously wealthy people eat omelets and decorate Christmas trees? Do they hop from store to store in some glitzy metropolitan mall hunting for presents—KB Toys, the Disney Store, Hallmark, Bath and Body Works, Hot Topic, RadioShack, Claire’s, Wet Seal, Yankee Candle—before grabbing a late-afternoon snack at Cinnabon or Sbarro, maybe a smoothie from Orange Julius? Or do they just sit in their mansions under vast unsmiling portraits until they grow dusty and turn to stone: gargoyles, angels, lions bearing their fangs? Are they still human at all?

“How’s Trent doing?” your mom asks. “Still trying to get into the Forest Service?”

“As far as I know. But that’s not who I was with last night.”

Your dad sets an omelet down in front of you, along with a glass of orange juice and one of the same Flintstones multivitamins you’ve been taking since you were in preschool. Jesse used to give me those, you think randomly, recalling the reminders he penned in his clandestine journals. When he was around. When he was sober. Your parents exchange a wary glance. “Oh?” your dad ventures in a squeak, trying to sound casual.

You could lie, but you don’t. Juneau is too small for lies. People know each other too well, they bump elbows in grocery stores and bars and parking lots; they make overly-familiar small talk and inadvertently spill secrets. The last thing you need is someone teasing Trent good-naturedly about your supposed night of passion. He might be dumb, but if he ever gets all the pieces in his titan hands he’ll eventually figure out how they click together. “I was, uh, actually, uh…visiting Aegon.”

They watch you, faces frozen in forced, benign smiles. You pet the top of Sunfyre’s shaggy head with your left hand and stab a fork into the salmon omelet with your right. “Well, that’s great!” your dad manages. “He’s a nice boy, that Aegon. So Greek. And plenty sexy, as we’ve previously established.”

“Is he feeling better?” your mom asks politely, slurping her tea.

“Oh yeah. Much better.” It comes out way too enthusiastic, and hot blood floods into your face. Your parents chuckle…and yet their eyes are troubled, distant, though perhaps in different directions. “Just so you know, things aren’t really working out with Trent. I’m trying to let it fizzle so there isn’t any drama that makes things awkward or creates any…uh…bad blood, I guess. So if you see him around, definitely don’t mention Aegon.”

Your dad does a mock salute. “Got it, General Ladybug.”

“What are Aegon’s plans for Christmas?” your mom inquires. Your dad turns to her, but doesn’t say anything. “It must be difficult for him, being so far from home. Especially around the holidays. I would hate for him to be alone.”

Probably drinking himself into unconsciousness while watching Jingle All The Way and Die Hard. “I don’t know, that’s a good question. I should ask him.”

“He can spend Christmas here with us, if he’d like.” Your mom finishes her tea, sets the cup down on the table, fiddles with it. “We’ll have more than enough food. And we could find a few things to wrap for him so he has presents to open.”

“Now if that’s not holiday spirit, I don’t know what is!” your dad says happily; and if he’s bluffing, he’s good at not showing it. He kisses your mom on the cheek, resting his study hands on her shoulders. She smiles up at him.

You wolf down the last few bites of your salmon omelet, chew your vitamin, knock back orange juice like a shot. “Alright, I should get going, or I won’t be back in time to open the vet clinic at 9.”

“I can always hold down the fort for a few hours,” your dad offers.

“No, that’s okay. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to bother you.” I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to let you down. “You’ve earned retirement. Enjoy all the Judge Judy and Buffy The Vampire Slayer you can handle.” You pet Sunfyre and tug playfully on his ears. His tail wags at warp speed. “Are you ready to go home to your favorite person now? Are you excited?”

Your dad lumbers off into the kitchen. “Here, bring Aegon some breakfast too…” He piles a salmon omelet, a mountain of hash browns, and toast slathered with butter and strawberry jelly into a Tupperware container. You take it and glance out the window that faces the driveway.

“Oh, great. Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“The cow moose is out there licking the road salt off my Jeep. Can you get rid of her?”

“Again?! Okay, I’m on it.” He grabs some pots out of the cabinet and heads outside. You can hear him beating the pots together and shouting: “Goodbye, moose! You live in the woods, not the driveway! Goodbye! Au revoir! Adios, mooseachos!”

At the kitchen table, your mom laughs. She’s still tinkering anxiously with her cup. “Only in Alaska.”

“You’re really alright with Aegon coming over for Christmas?”

“Of course. I’d prefer it, actually. I’d rather know he’s safe. Not alone, not in trouble.”

“Even though he might end up passed out under the tree?”

She smiles: faint, tired, melancholic. “I’ve seen worse.”

When you let yourself into Aegon’s apartment, he’s dressed for work and self-medicating with a rum and Coke mixed in a cereal bowl; it’s the only dish he has that’s currently clean. Sunfyre bolts to him, barking wildly and jumping up to prop his paws on Aegon’s chest as you slide the Tupperware onto the kitchen counter.

“Hey, buddy!” Aegon cries, ecstatic. “I missed you! Yes I did! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?!”

“Where are you going?” you ask, scrutinizing him.

“Fishing,” he says simply, like this should be obvious.

“I don’t think you should be going back to work this soon. You just got out of the hospital.”

He shrugs. “I need the money.”

“I can give you money.”

“You definitely could, but I don’t want your money, I want my money. Besides, Trent won’t be able to protect my job forever. If I can’t work, Rusty will find someone else who can.”

“Trent,” you echo morosely, staring at nothing in particular.

Aegon downs the rest of his rum and Coke, then puts his bowl in the sink. He walks over to you, his oceanic eyes cautious, his lock of white-blond hair resting on his cheek. “What did he do to you? At dinner, I mean. Before you called me.”

You take his left hand and turn it over, studying the lines on his palm: past, present, future, all in a language you can’t read. You hesitate; you can’t decide what to tell Aegon. You aren’t sure what you want him to know.

“He didn’t hurt you, right? Or try to touch you in a way you didn’t want him to?”

“He kissed me. I pushed him off. That’s all.”

Aegon watches you, eyes severe and glinting. “That’s not all.”

“I tried to break up with him at the restaurant,” you confess. “First he acted like he didn’t understand. Then he got upset, offended. We agreed to slow down, but I’m not sure what he thinks that means. Maybe he’s planning a summer engagement instead of a spring one, I have no idea.”

“You made him angry.” Aegon’s voice is flat, entirely flat, like he’s battling to keep it that way. “I thought we agreed not to make him angry.”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, Aegon.”

“No no no, my bad, let me clarify, I’m not mad at you. I just don’t understand why you would be so direct about it. I’ve broken up with a lot of people without actually breaking up with them. You ignore, you deflect, you do the bare minimum, you are intentionally unappealing in every way…and then eventually they move on. That’s the way to go. That’s how you avoid confrontations.”

“I don’t want this thing with Trent to die a slow death.” Oh, perhaps a poor choice of words. “I don’t want to be with him, to even keep up the facade of being with him. I want to be with you. I want to be with you in every way, everywhere, all the time.”

Aegon smiles. He twists his fingers into your hair and touches his forehead to yours and then kisses you, softly and unhurriedly. As he pulls away, he gently bites your lower lip; his fingertips ghost across the front of your throat like a necklace, like a chain. You moan into him, unable to help it. “I won’t go to work if you don’t either,” Aegon murmurs.

“I, an eternally upstanding citizen, definitely have to go to work.”

“Man, fuck capitalism,” he says, and you laugh together.

Something occurs to you. “You didn’t wait for Kimmie to move on. You broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I had another candidate in mind for the extremely prestigious position of being my Juneau girl.”

You tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him again: heat, rum, memories from the night before. Lust stirs up in your blood like ancient silt in seawater. “Please be careful at work.”

“I will, Appletini. I will. Don’t worry. You’re always worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. There’s no point in that.”

“I think I’m just someone who’s doomed to worry a lot in general.”

He grins. “Yes. But I’m your favorite thing to worry about.” He lays his palm against your right cheek and kisses your left: quickly, lightly, like it’s routine, like he’ll be doing it every day for the rest of his life. “Have fun at the vet clinic. Saving all those furry little lives.”

“I’ll see you at Ursa Minor tonight?”

He winks. “I’ll be the one with the electric guitar.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You get stuck late at the clinic spaying Mr. Mark Morehouse’s Flemish Giant rabbit. By the time you rush through the front door of Ursa Minor—bells jangling, a gust of cold wind at your heels, patrons glancing over with vague interest—the band is already performing. Aegon is wearing his cuffed jeans, black combat boots, and, in a radical departure from his usual color scheme, a royal blue turtleneck sweater. He’s braided a section of his hair on the left side of his head and woven a single, small, blue-dyed rose into it. He gives you a subtle nod when he sees you come in, a sly half-smile. He’s singing a punk rock, up-tempo version of Counting Crow’s A Long December.

“I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving, now the days go by so fast…”

“Heyyy, bitch!” Heather greets you, raising her Sex On The Beach. Joyce and Kimmie are swaying together, brandishing lighters in the air: Joyce smirking and reluctant, Kimmie—a born groupie—shamelessly exuberant. You swing by the bar to get a Bacardi Breezer (blueberry, very good, one of the better flavors) and stand beside Heather. You gaze at Aegon as he strums his battered guitar, and the parallel strikes you for the first time. Aegon too is layered with imperfections: scars, marks, ink, demons with gnashing fangs and needlelike fingers that dangle past their knees. And yet what he gives to the world is so beautiful. And yet he is so goddamn miraculous.

“I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself to hold on to these moments as they pass…”

It takes you a long time to notice that Kimmie is watching you. Something clicks like a dislocated joint popped back into its socket; and that’s the way it’s always been with Kimmie, since she was a child, since she was a five-year-old chasing boys around the playground at recess. The hints pile up—a lot of hints, sometimes years of hints—until eventually there’s an avalanche of realization that hits and drags her under like a rogue wave. She sucks in a breath and her doelike eyes shoot wide open. You try to pretend you didn’t see anything, but that’s not Kimmie’s style. She pushes her way through the audience and grabs your wrist, hauling you away from the crowd. Heather observes this, slurping down her Sex On The Beach, trying to ascertain if you need reinforcements.

“What—?!”

“I didn’t know,” Kimmie says, like it’s an apology. Her eyes are pained and fearful, a deer bathed in headlights.

“You didn’t know what?”

“That you’re in love with him.” Her voice is reedy and trembling. She’s petrified, you realize. She’s afraid that I’ll never be able to be her friend again. Not a true friend, not a pure one. “I swear to God, I didn’t know. I even asked you first. I never would have hooked up with him if I had known, never, never. I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t like we had real feelings for each other—”

“Kimmie, Kimmie, it’s fine,” you soothe, rubbing her shoulder. She’s wearing a ridiculously fluffy hot pink sweater; it’s like petting a neon sheep. “I’m the one who wasn’t upfront with you. I didn’t think Aegon and I had a chance, so I was purposefully trying to avoid him, to avoid any feelings I had for him. It didn’t work out that way, but…yeah. Anyway. I don’t blame you for anything.”

“Oh my god, so you’re together? Like, together?” Kimmie blinks at you, shocked but not scandalized. You’re not sure it’s possible to scandalize Kimmie.

“We don’t really want everyone to know about it.”

“Oh, because of Trent?”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Maybe some of those genius professor genetics made it down the Plinko board after all. “Exactly.”

“Jesus Christ, he’d probably snap Aegon in half if he knew. Like a freaking KitKat bar.”

“That’s a mental image I didn’t need.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Kimmie swears, empowered by this rare, consequential responsibility.

“I really, really appreciate your discretion.”

“You and Aegon, wow…” She mulls it over, baffled. “So you’re pretty kinky too? I wouldn’t have guessed that. You should have told me! We could have gone shopping together!”

Shopping with Kimmie for fuzzy handcuffs and riding crops and, who knows, probably like vibrating butt plugs or something. I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared for that. I will most likely never be emotionally prepared for that. “Boundaries, Kimmie. Honestly, I haven’t seen that side of him. At least not in my albeit limited experience.”

“Huh,” Kimmie says brightly. “I guess he’s in love with you too.” And then she trots off to rejoin the crowd. Boat #27 has concluded their performance and is accepting cheers of acclaim and complimentary drinks from their adoring fans. Joyce hugs Rob, climbing onto her tiptoes and giggling. Joyce!? Giggling!?!? You grab another Bacardi Breezer before heading over, raspberry this time.

“Hey, babe!” Trent booms when he sees you.

Oh god. Oh no. You shrink away when he throws an arm across your shoulders. Aegon watches this as he approaches, sipping a rum and Coke, eyes like blue embers.

“Right,” Trent groans, like it’s some grave inconvenience, like it’s some passing fad he has to endure. “I remember now. We’re taking things slow.”

The clique assembles by the pool table like battle-ready Power Rangers: you, Trent, Joyce, Rob, Heather, Kimmie, Aegon. “Someone should play!” you say, truly a master of redirection.

Trent flips his hair. “Obviously I’m down.” He looks at you expectantly. You ignore him, drinking your Bacardi Breezer and then pretending to drink it once it’s empty.

“Oh, you are going down.” Heather cracks her knuckles and grins, then picks up a cue stick.

“Battle royal!” Rob announces. Joyce sighs and pulls a fantasy novel out of her purse. Kimmie perches on the edge of the pool table: legs crossed, eyes roving, gold hoop earrings glittering under Christmas lights, seeking attention and drawing it to her like Saturn ensnares moons. A gaggle of bashful men appear out of nowhere to worship her. Dale’s stereo pipes out Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Dale himself is wearing a red Santa hat and yawning boredly into the back of his hand.

“I need another drink,” you say, and head for the bar. Aegon follows you.

“You don’t want a Bacardi Breezer.”

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.” He flags Dale over once you’ve claimed your seats. “Hey Dale, did you get the stuff on the list I gave you?”

“Sure did.” Dale sets an array of items on the bar: apple juice, lemon juice, florescent green apple schnapps, vodka, a single Granny Smith apple, a paring knife, a shaker halfway filled with ice, a small plate covered with sugar, two chilled martini glasses. “You owe me, though. Especially for the schnapps. I had to order a case all the way from Seattle!”

“Add it to my tab.”

“Which you’ll pay when? In 2023?”

“I’ll pay, Dale!” Aegon insists.

Dale rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t seem genuinely annoyed. “Sure you will.” He yawns again and ambles away to take the orders of some locals sitting at the other end of the bar. The thuds of his boots are heavy and slow on the hardwood floor, the same one Aegon almost died on nine days ago.

“What are we doing?” you ask, but you’re already smiling. You have a pretty good guess.

“We’re making appletinis,” Aegon replies.

“You knew how to make appletinis this entire time and never said anything?”

“Oh no, I definitely did not,” he says. “I found the phone number of a friend I met back in San Francisco and figured she might know. She’s a bartender. So I gave her a call and asked very, very nicely and sure enough, she had a recipe.” He pauses, contemplative. “I told her I was in Chicago. Just in case.”

Just in case his ghost manages to track her down. “Have you seen this friend naked?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” you say, and you find that you mean it. Aegon is here with you now, and that’s all you can ask for. Still, his commitment to relative honestly seems enduring.

“The answer is yes. But it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“Really, it doesn’t matter. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Yeah, you don’t look mad.”

You smile at each other, Christmas-light sparks in your eyes, alone in a crowded room. Well…alone except for Mariah Carey. “Anyway,” you prompt. “Am I getting a real-life appletini or what?”

“Let’s do this. Uh…” He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Okay. I think I know how it goes.” He adds apple juice and lemon juice to the shaker. He doesn’t measure; he estimates, splashing in a little at a time until he’s content. He caps the container, gives it a few vigorous shakes, then opens it again. He pours in the schnapps and vodka, then shakes again. “Cut a few slices off the apple, vet lady. Nice and thin.”

You do, four transparent crescent-moon slivers. Aegon rubs lemon juice around the rim of each martini glass with his ring finger and then dunks them in the sugar until the rims are covered in fine white crystals like snow. He garnishes the martini glasses with the apple slices, gives the shaker one last whirl, then empties the contents into the glasses: half for you, half for him. He hands you your introductory appletini and toasts his glass against yours.

“On three?” Aegon asks, and you nod, beaming. You count together: one, two, three.

Your first taste isn’t a tentative sip. You take a full, brave swallow of the vivid green brew. It’s jarringly sour, sticky-sweet, crisp and refreshing like springtime. “Oh, I love it!” you trill.

“It’s…uh…” He takes another investigative slurp. “It’s definitely appley.”

“You hate it,” you say, laughing.

“I don’t hate it,” he counters. “I like what it’s doing to you.”

You close your eyes, the sights and sounds of Ursa Minor fading away. You’re somewhere sleek and vibrant and new; you’re in New York City, you’re in Los Angeles, you’re in Las Vegas, you’re in San Diego. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling. “Sorry. I was teleporting.”

“Do you want the rest of mine?”

“Yeah,” you admit guiltily, and he slides his appletini over to rest by yours. You drain them both. “I’m like Jack Dawson. I’m the king of the world.”

“You’re very, very cute when you’re tipsy, that’s what you are.”

“My parents think you should spend Christmas with us. I think you should too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay. Don’t buy me anything fancy, though. I won’t be able to return the favor.”

“Sad impoverished homeless man gifts only. You have my word.”

“Hey!” Heather calls from the pool table. She’s waving her cue stick in the air. “I lost! I’m a loser! I got slaughtered by this jumbo-sized motherfucker! And you weren’t even here to witness it!”

“We should go over there,” you tell Aegon, and he steadies you when you wobble as you slide off the barstool. “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. Now I have an excuse to touch you.”

“Dale, can I get some Chex Mix or something?” He tosses you a little blue bag from behind the bar. You miss it completely. It sails over your head and smacks into the floor. Aegon cackles hysterically, but fetches the bag. He even opens it before he hands it to you. Then you set off together for the pool table.

“What’s wrong with you?” Heather asks when you arrive, her eyes narrow.

“I like appletinis. I really like appletinis.”

“It’s December 22nd, the commencement of Capricorn season, and you are celebrating this momentous event with an uncharacteristic display of recklessness and frivolity? Inauspicious!”

“What did I miss? Besides your humiliation.”

“Flintstones vitamins,” Rob says, rubbing blue chalk on a cue stick. He and Trent are playing pool now; Trent is showing Kimmie and several of her sycophants, including Matt and Gary, how he can make a shot with his hands behind his back. Aegon circles the pool table, his hands in his jeans pockets, watching Trent reticently. “Childish and stupid or totally acceptable for mid-twenties adults?”

“Totally acceptable,” you declare, munching on Chex Mix. “I just had one this morning.”

“That’s what I said!” Kimmie cries. “They’re delicious. I could eat a whole bottle of them. I used to lie to my mom when I was a kid and insist she hadn’t given one to me yet so I could get extra. My high score was five in a day.”

“That can’t be good for you,” Heather says. “Wait. Maybe it explains some things.”

“A lot of things,” Joyce quips, turning a page in her book.

Kimmie defers to you, the foremost medical authority present. “Vitamins can’t hurt people, right?”

“Well, that depends on the vitamin.”

“Some can,” Aegon says. “The fat-soluble ones, because your body can’t flush them out as easily or something. Too much Vitamin A can really fuck someone up. There are people who’ve died because they ate a polar bear liver, which has, like, millions of units of Vitamin A. So if you ever happen to eat a polar bear, skip the liver.”

“You can overdose on vitamins?” Kimmie asks him, puzzled. “Like, vitamins can kill you?”

“Oh yeah, lots of things can kill you if you take enough of them. Too much Vitamin A can cause seizures and comas, Vitamin D can give you a heart attack, Vitamin E can make you hemorrhage out of your eyeballs and stuff. And it causes strokes.”

“Oh snap!” Kimmie exclaims in horror, thinking that perhaps she barely escaped with her life. Heather is thoroughly amused.

You look at Aegon as he passes by you like a satellite whirling around the Earth, a blinking light in suffocating darkness. He’s right, but he shouldn’t be. He hasn’t studied medicine. He hasn’t studied much of anything. “How do you know all that?”

He replies curtly: “How do you think?” And then he resumes his orbit.

Rob attempts a shot and misses. “Ha!” Trent says, flipping his hair, and then starts lining up his own. As he leans over the pool table, he asks you: “So, where were you last night?”

Your mind, already hazy, goes useless. Cold sweat bubbles up out of your pores. “What? At home.”

“No you weren’t.” His eyes are on you like a wolf’s, like a beast’s. “I called the house. A couple times, actually. I felt weird about how we left things and wanted to apologize. But no one answered.”

“Oh, sorry, I mean I was at home, but then I went to go bowling with my parents.”

“No you didn’t.” Trent’s cue stick hits the striped red ball, number 11, and sends it hurtling into a pocket. “I already asked Dale. He’s in the bowling league, and he said you weren’t there.”

Two lies. And I don’t have a third. You stand there helplessly, surrounded by Christmas lights and tinsel and pine trees, your thoughts churning slowly, slower, dragging to a full stop. The chatter around you dies down. Wide eyes dart between you and Trent. Joyce closes her book. Even Dale is peeking over from the bar. His face is crisscrossed with lines of disapproval, of fascination.

“Where were you, huh?” Trent takes a step closer. He’s huge. He’s so fucking huge. Aegon picks up the black 8 ball off the pool table; no one else notices but you.

“Trent,” Heather scolds her brother, stunned. “Take a chill pill—”

“Where were you?!” Trent demands.

You try to conjure up an excuse, any excuse. All you can think of is how badly you don’t want to end up at the bottom of an ice-covered lake. I can’t die, I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t been anywhere yet. I haven’t seen San Diego.

Trent begins one final time, still clutching the cue stick, his voice deafening: “Where were—?!”

“She was with me!” Kimmie bursts out, and everyone spins towards her. “I, um, I was upset. Devastated, in fact. Because of, um. Boy problems.”

Heather titters nervously. “What else is new.”

“So I called and I was an absolute blubbering mess on the phone and she offered to come over and hang out. Watch Buffy with me. Do my nails and stuff. It’s really embarrassing.” She smiles at you, a soft glowing smile. “Thanks for trying to keep my secret.”

“No problem, Kimmie,” you reply shakily.

“Oh, babe!” Trent says, his face splitting into a smile, pressing a hand into the small of your back. He even flips his hair in that simpleminded, horselike way. He can’t be the Ice Fisher. He can’t be…right? You flinch when he touches you. On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon rolling the black 8 ball back onto the pool table. “That’s all?! You should have told me!”

“It really wasn’t my situation to share.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” Trent seems to mean it. “I’m really sorry. That was a dick move, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hulk smash?” Rob says, and there is laughter, quivering with fresh relief.

“I think I have to go,” you say, rubbing your forehead. “I’m really not feeling great.” And that part’s not even a lie. “I shouldn’t have mixed Bacardi Breezers and appletinis, I’m a total lightweight. And I have work in the morning. I’m supposed to vaccinate like ten of Mr. Campbell’s reindeer.”

“You want me to drive you home?” Trent offers.

No! Definitely not! “Thanks, but I couldn’t bear to interrupt your pool game. Especially when you’re winning.” You can tell Aegon is looking at you. You intentionally don’t acknowledge him. And now you realize that you’re a little trapped: you can’t say you’re driving yourself home because you’re not sober, and you can’t say that Aegon is walking you back to his apartment because then Trent might murder you both right here in the middle of Ursa Minor, blood splattering the deer heads mounted on the wall, femurs and vertebrae littering the pool table.

“I’ll do it!” Heather volunteers. “I’m super not-wasted at the moment.”

“Um, well…”

“Come on.” She’s already going to get your parka off the coatrack. “I can’t in good conscience let you vaccinate those reindeer without a full night’s sleep.” You trail after her, powerless to refuse.

Out in the night-draped parking lot, you haul yourself—with some difficulty—into Heather’s Chevy Suburban. And as she turns the key in the ignition and begins defrosting the windshield, you tell her: “When you leave the lot, make a left, not a right.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not taking me home. You’re taking me to Aegon’s apartment.”

“I’m…?” She gapes at you as it sinks in like an anchor through dark surf. “Oh my god. Oh my god…?!”

“Affirmative.”

“Oh. My. GOD.” She puts the Suburban in drive and, as requested, makes a left onto Main Street.

Sunfyre is delighted to see you when you arrive. He leaps, barks, pirouettes in circles, accepts copious scratches and Milk-Bone treats. You collapse onto the threadbare couch, and he stretches out on the floor beside you, his quiet snoring soon the only sound in the apartment. Your eyes blur, flutter, close up shop. Maybe twenty minutes later, you hear a key rattling in the front door.

Aegon walks inside, his boots dripping with snow. He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. “You alright, Appletini?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of woozy but I mostly just wanted to leave.” You consider him, wondering how to ask him the question that won’t leave your mind. It claws at the arched walls of your skull like a trapped animal, leaving streaks of blood where its nails were torn away.

“I don’t want to talk about the vitamin thing,” he says.

“I don’t want to talk about Trent.”

“Deal.”

He throws off his parka and boots, turns on the X-Files, and crawls onto the couch with you. You fold into him and he holds you, not hungrily, not asking for a thing. You freefall into sleep with your head against his chest, his heartbeat a distant roar like thunder.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Ice Fisher has left Juneau a Christmas present: Stephanie Nolan, his fifth victim. She was twenty-five years old, an avid knitter, a Blockbuster employee, mother of several adopted Himalayan cats, one of three sisters born barely a year apart. At least her parents still have some children left, you think. At least the pressure to make their sacrifices worthwhile wasn’t all on her. Your dad sneaks a few minutes of news coverage while your mom is in the shower. They’re replaying the press conference that Chief of Police Eugene Baker gave late last night on Christmas Eve.

“We urge all Juneau residents to remain vigilant. This is the time of year for celebrations and get-togethers, and we don’t want to discourage that in any way, but no one—and I repeat, no one—should be outside alone, especially not after dark. Ms. Nolan left her place of employment to take a ten-minute smoke break, and that was all the opportunity the killer needed. He is still out there, he is still dangerous, and no one is immune from becoming a target. If you have any information relevant to this case, anything at all, please call our anonymous 24/7 hotline at…”

There are camera flashes, uneasy clamoring, flailing hands of reporters begging to be called on. Your dad crosses his arms over his broad chest, his face grim. A reporter asks Chief Baker: “I understand that the Juneau PD has brought in FBI profilers to help them identify possible suspects. Can you share any new theories with the public at this time?”

“Well, there are a couple likely possibilities. The Ice Fisher might be someone who is new to the area, someone who arrived this past summer or early autumn. Residents should therefore be extremely wary of newcomers. However, it might be the case that the killer isn’t new to the area at all, but rather suffered some sort of destabilizing event—loss of employment, for example, or the death of a loved one—that triggered their otherwise dormant violent impulses. The last theory I’m prepared to share today is that the criminal now known as the Ice Fisher might have been active long before this recent string of murders. Some serial killers have been known to…to test the waters, so to speak…with murders that can be camouflaged as accidental or natural deaths. That’s a possibility in this case, and we are combing back through the department archives to see if there are any answers there…”

“I should go pick up Aegon,” you say.

“Ladybug…” Your dad stalls, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “I’m not saying that I think Aegon is the killer, because I don’t think he is. I know he’s not, actually. He doesn’t have much rage in him. He has a lot of other things, I believe, but not that. I’m just saying…you have to be careful. And he can’t keep an eye out for you if he’s passed out drunk somewhere. Do you get what I mean?”

“I understand, Dad. I’m careful. Really, I am. And I’m never running around town alone. If I’m not with Aegon, I’m with Heather or Kimmie or Joyce.”

“Or Trent,” he adds. He likes this idea; Trent might not be able to snap a murderer in two like a KitKat bar, but he could definitely crack a few ribs. Trent would be a great Mortal Kombat character. He could skewer foes with a cue stick, right through the eye socket. An icy shudder rocks down your spine.

“Or Trent.”

“Okay. Good.” He turns back to the tv, his eyes vacant, his voice low. “Just making sure.”

Aegon is dressed in his Christmas best: dark jeans, black Converses, his hair loose and wavy, a festive red sweater with Gizmo from Gremlins on it. You’ve opted for a more traditional Rudolph turtleneck. Sunfyre has a large red bow tied to his collar. The three of you ride together back to your parents’ house, the radio playing Celine Dion’s O Holy Night, one of the back windows rolled halfway down for Sunfyre.

Dinner is a reindeer roast, rosemary apple stuffing, potato gratin, homemade macaroni and cheese, and creamed spinach; dessert is Christmas cookies eaten under the tree. You open presents as a parade of classics play on the tv: Frosty The Snowman, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, The Year Without A Santa Claus. Your parents give Aegon cold-weather clothing like hats and mittens, which he accepts with great appreciation. He gives them a bouquet of blue roses and three bottles of red wine, only one of which he drinks himself. You give Aegon a refrigerator magnet from Caribou Crossings, a grizzly bear with a salmon caught between its teeth, something to join the rest of his collection, something to help him remember Juneau once he’s gone. He gives you a handful of seashells from San Diego that he’s been carting around in his luggage for a year. Everyone gives Sunfyre Milk-Bones.

When Aegon takes the golden retriever out to the backyard, your dad goes with them. You can see them talking out there as snow falls and the sun sets and the horizon is inked with violet and gold, the wind whipping fiercely: Aegon’s hands moving in wild, dramatic gestures, your dad nodding along. They’re gone for so long you start to worry, your fingers trembling as you and your mom play chess with the new set you received for Christmas, not black and white but pet-themed: one side dogs, the other cats.

Your dad comes back inside first. He shuts the door and says to you, not accusatory but merely intrigued: “I didn’t know you were serious about wanting to travel, ladybug.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. One day. When I’m retired, I guess. Doesn’t everyone want to travel?”

“Huh. Aegon made it sound a bit more urgent than that.”

He watches you defeat your mom in chess, makes her some mollifying Earl Grey tea, and then offers to play Scrabble with her, a proposition she can never resist. When Aegon brings Sunfyre back inside—the sky fully dark now, the stars rising behind the veil of clouds—you lead him upstairs to your room. You sit on your bed together and flip through your travel magazines, scenes of Paris, Cairo, New York City, Rome, Tokyo, Cape Town, Buenos Aires, Beijing, Saint Petersburg, Sydney, Las Vegas, Cusco, Athens, Mexico City, Nairobi, California.

“It’s strange,” Aegon says. “Your parents like me, but they also kind of don’t like me. It’s as if they’re afraid of me. I can’t figure them out.”

You think of the cardboard box under your bed, the one full of Jesse’s journals. “My mom was married before. Vince is her second husband.”

Aegon looks over at you, attentive but not understanding. “Okay.”

“I was five years old when they got together. So Vince is my dad, but he’s not…like…he’s not biologically…well, you get what I’m saying.”

Aegon closes the magazine he’d been skimming, still looking at you.

“My mom’s first husband was named Jesse. And he was…from what I understand…he was a lot like you.” You tap your index finger against the crook of your own elbow so Aegon will understand. He was brilliant, but he was an addict. He was a blessing, he was a curse.

Aegon nods slowly. “I guess that explains a lot.”

“I probably should have told you sooner. But I’ve never really told anyone.”

“What happened to him?”

“He drowned in the channel. Maybe it was an accident, maybe suicide. Maybe it doesn’t matter which one. Maybe there isn’t much of a difference.”

“I’m so sorry,” Aegon says, his voice quiet and gentle.

“I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“It won’t. I told you. I’m not that easy to kill.”

You wonder if Aegon has become a ghost to his family, if he haunts the Targaryens like Jesse haunts you, half-comforting, half-heartbreaking, if after six long silent years his shadow still lurks in corners and doorways. You wonder if a ghost is really so far from what you are. “I want to stop feeling like a potential person, to stop waiting for the life I’ve always dreamed of to drop out of the sky. I want to feel real.”

“You’re real to me.” He dusts his thumbprint across the curve of your cheekbone, flesh and blood that sing to each other. “Listen, we’ll go to San Diego together.”

“Don’t, Aegon.”

“No, I mean it,” he says. “Give me a month to save up, and we’ll go. We’ll take a long weekend and fly down there. It won’t be hot enough to swim, but it’ll be warmer than here. Sixties, sunny, sandy, waves and tacos. We’ll stay somewhere with a waterbed. Those can be a lot of fun.”

“Careful. I might not want to leave the hotel room. What a waste of a trip that would be.”

“I’ll just have to make sure you’re bored of me by then,” he purrs, grinning and mischievous, dragging you into his lap. He smooths your hair back from your face, gazing up at you as you straddle him. He kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck; his teeth skate across your skin without biting down, without leaving indigo bruises of ownership. Slowly, he turns solemn and hushed. Slowly, you begin to worry about him.

“What, Aegon?”

“You’re the best present I ever got. I hope you know that.”

You whisper through his windswept white-blond hair: “Then open me.”

He lays you down on the bed, unearths your needful bare skin and stifles his moans against your throat, unravels you like a blood-red ribbon from a box heavy with secrets.

[worlddevoid]

World Devoid: Episode 1.1 - This Is (Not) Your Morning

(Word Count: 1k)

---October 1st, 2000---

"Ugh, I can't believe we didn't find ANY Cryptids!" Cassie huffs as they walk back to the RV, turning around to see what their best friend is doing. "Hey Baz, you ready?" 

"We got close. I could feel it." Baz replies, bringing his fingers to his face and spreading them, dramatically, sighing before reaching that same hand out to grab the driver's side door handle. "And, I'm always ready, Cassie, you know that." He chuckles confidently to himself before giving the door handle a quick tug- only to find that it's locked.

"Thwarted. Of course." He turns to face Cassie, peering over the hood of the large vehicle, "Do you have the keys?"

"Uh, no? I thought you had them. It's YOUR parent's RV." Cassie says, crossing her arms over her chest followed by a heavy eye roll. 

Baz childishly parrots Cassie's words in a mocking tone while patting down the pockets of his cargo pants. "It'syourdadsRVehw".

After fondling the many, MANY pockets on his pants, his fingers find purchase on the singular engine key for the hefty vehicle. "Success." Baz declares triumphantly with a quick pumped fist and a head bow. 

Slipping the key into the lock, it turns easily, and a quick yank has the door swinging open with an audible creak. Baz hops into the driver's seat and reaches across the passenger side to pull up on the lock stick.

"Ugh, finally. Let's go home." Cassie whines as she opens the passenger door and gets into the patterned seat with a huff. She eyes Baz and punches his arm lightly to prompt him to get going. 

"Jeezus". Baz shouts dramatically, grabbing his arm, but very promptly jumps into action to bring the engine roaring to life. "I could have blocked that hit, you know." Baz mutters and then laments to himself, ‘They'd kick my ass in a heartbeat’. 

Cassie laughs, loud and short. "Ha! As if you'd stand even the slightest chance!" She snorts.

"What-Ever." Baz retorts, but he knows she’s right. He purses his lips and grips the steering wheel before throwing the RV into drive and rolling down the dirt path towards the main road. He reaches down towards the stereo but finds a hand smacking his away and twisting the knob herself. Cassie messes with the dial, quickly tuning it to a station playing Daft Punk's "Around The World". Satisfied, she leans back in her seat and enjoys the beat.

A loud, bravados huff escapes Baz, but he makes no move to change the station, and eventually finds that he can't help himself but to bop along to what is so obviously, a banger. His scowl is quickly replaced by a toothy grin, and he tosses a giddy look in Cassie's direction before bursting out into easy laughter, feeling the tension dissolve into a good moment.

They drive for what feels like hours, never encountering a single other car. At first, it doesn't ring any alarm bells, seeing as they left early in the morning. But as the hours tick by and there is no sign of anyone, they begin to take notice, and Cassie is the first one to bring it up.

"Hey Baz, have you, like, seen anyone else while we've been driving?" She asks suddenly.

Baz rapidly whips his head from one side to the next, sweeping the surrounding area in a sudden panic. "You know, it's funny you mention that-- I was thinking these roads were way too clear. I mean, I know we started our journey early, but we would have had to at least run into one other car by now...... Very peculiar......" His eyebrows shoot up and he squints his eyes while contemplating the lack of life signs during their trip. He thinks to himself: 'It's probably some weird holiday or we are taking an unpopular road. Nothing more'

"Well-- at least we'll get back to the dorms in record speed." Baz concludes, quickly shrugging away the thought and focusing back on the empty road ahead, putting a little more pressure on the pedal.

"Hell yeah! Rev it up!" Cassie whoops, encouraging Baz to go faster, seemingly just as eager to push away the thought. She laughs, enjoying the adrenaline rush- its presence momentarily distracting her from the budding dread in her stomach. She knows something is wrong, but she ignores it, trying her best to push the feeling down and enjoy herself with her best friend. 

Baz, blissfully ignorant to the anxieties Cassie hides, puffs out his chest with pride at the encouragement. His face settles into a smug expression as his toes push a little bit harder down on the pedal, causing the engine to roar and the large vehicle to pick up speed rapidly. He reachs into the cup holder and flicks open the black oval sunglasses he finds there. As he puts them on, he accidentally stabs his eye with one of the arms before getting them positioned correctly. "Ow." He grunts before his face returns to it's smug expression. 'This is just like Gone In 60 Seconds- hell yeah!'

As they get closer to their dorms, they see a cluster of empty cars, seemingly abandoned, some of them with doors thrown open haphazardly. 

"Baz, look!" Cassie exclaims, pointing to where the cars are, but Baz is too distracted by the music. 

Pushing 120MPH, "This Is Your Night" by Amber blasts through the speakers, as Baz has one hand on the steering wheel and the other running seductively up and down his chest as he passionately mouths the words. Only half watching the road, as Cassie shouts at Baz to 'look', his eyes fling open and he instinctively slams down on the brakes-- hard-- sending them both lurching forward. Their seatbelts just barely prevent them from flying through the windshield as they come to a screeching halt admist a sea of seemingly abandoned cars.

It takes them a moment to stop completely, but when they finally do, they come to a skidding halt millimeters from the cluster of abandoned cars- kissing the bumper of one of the vehicles. Cassie looks over at Baz, wide eyed and frightened.

...

[gerardpilled]

honestly bandom overlapping fob and mcr together and treating it as weird when you like one but not the other made me less receptive to fob 😭 like yes they were both big 2000s emo bands but the correlation just got annoying, I did try listening to some songs so my reason for disliking them was less petty but since they were paired at the same level as mcr I expected them to have similar music styles and was disappointed when they didn’t. I kind of wonder if my feelings would be different if I didn’t listen to their music with that preconceived notion

I listened to fall out boy when I was a teenager but I really can’t make it through many of their songs nowadays. I think it’s because their music is simple and unchallenging in a way that makes it easy for young people with not a ton of music exposure to enjoy. I think the same could be (and has been) said about mcr but I would disagree with that way more ofc 😁 I just think mcr has the actual quality to back it up, where I find fall out boy simple in a bad way with cheapness and soullessness. also neither of them are emo and like you said they don’t make similar music, I think the comparison came mainly from how the bands were advertised in teeny bop style magazines. They were both advertised off of aesthetics over actual music

[virtualratmilk]

ive really been enjoying this new Childish Gambino album, Donald Glover has really been showing off his versatility in this one, and the production is bonkers !! like I've been getting genuinely so envious of the production it's so good. Now of course I'm sure Donald Glover has a considerable amount more resources at his disposal when making music compared to when I do it, I'm literally just some girl who makes bips and bops but still, it's very impressive and I really enjoy it !! And Lithonia is such an ear worm,,, alot of the songs are!!! Its just so neat,, and he's releasing a movie as a companion piece to it (ig?) with the album functioning as part of (if not all) the soundtrack and that is so wild to me,, that's so cool. like that's something I'd dream abt doing as a kid. Idk I just,,, I started listening to him so long ago and he's been such a foundational part of how my music taste has evolved,,,

I'm particularly talking about Awaken My Love, which is still one of my favorite albums of all time !! (I do enjoy some of his other albums, but not nearly to the same degree, esp bonfire, ive never really enjoyed that album, not for me i suppose) everyone knew the one single from Awaken My Love back in the day when it came out but I feel it kinda overshadowed the rest of the album, and that's a bummer to me, because that album is so fucking good!!!! and like, idk it changed me dhajldkfksbqa I started listening to that album a lot in freshman year when I was really depressed and it helped me get through it and led me to listen to more funk and r&b and soul and it just,,,, idk that album is really important to me ig, and it's always gonna have a special place in my heart :3

that being said, Bando Stone doesn't feel very much like Awaken My Love, and I love it for that

like I said before, there's a lot of versatility and variety in the album, from like hars tech industrial rap to like 2000's electronic indie pop and I dont know where the next song is gonna go ever and it's so exciting... there's also one song he did with his son, and it's so cute and endearing and idk, it turned out so good and I loved it so much,,,,

when I first started listening to this album I was like "meh, whatever" but now I'm so not normal about it it's wild

It's currently my second favorite album of his, but hell, maybe in time it could surpass Awaken My Love in my eyes,, maybe

[the-nightly-film]

June 22nd, 2024

Last night I went to see The Bikeriders (2024). I really enjoyed the film and while I don't think it will leave a huge impression on pop culture this year I think it's a treat for anyone who is a fan of the main cast. I myself would watch Tom Hardy perform the phone book. This is my first Jodie Comer movie but even with the funny accent I think I see the hype. As for Austin Butler, I'm glad he's doing so well because I remember a time in the early 2000s when some of the tween media outlets tried very hard to make him the next big heartthrob and it just didn't quite click. Probably because he was always a step ahead talent wise of any of the other kids on the cover of Tiger Beat and Bop.

Plot wise this movie is so much in the vein of Goodfellas that it seems a missed opportunity for them to have not used "Then He Kissed Me" over any of the Hardy & Butler scenes.

[just-a-ghost-named-echo]

Music genres I think certain twst characters would listen to cause yeah

Ace Trappola: So listen idk why but I think he’s a hardcore swiftie (swifte? idk how to spell it) but he’s in such deep denial about it like he’d rather admit he’s gay than admit he enjoys taylor swift music. Also unironically listens to justin beiber music (beauty and the beat i see you 😻😻😻)

Deuce Spade: Now he listens to whatever he grew up listening to so whatever his mother likes, he likes. He probably grew up listening to 2000’s boy bands and has grown to love it, also listens to a few taylor swift songs but not a lot, manly just whatever he grew up listening to on the radio so a lot of like 2010’s pop (which has some amazing songs like beauty and the beat 😻😻😻)

Trey Clover: Kid’s bop. (yes i’m a trey hater.) i have no reasoning for it i just think he would.

Leona Kingscholar: This may be completely random but I feel like he’d very much enjoy tyler the creator. Idk why BUT ALSO KALI UCHIS AGAIN NO REASON WHY I JUST FEEL LIKE HE’D FALL ASLEEP TO IT

Ruggie Bucci: Ok you can doubt me on this cause again like all of these it’s just a feeling but I think he would listen to Gwen Stefani (specifically rich girl. it’s his theme)

Jamil Viper: Probably reggaeton cause like i can see him blasting daddy yankee while cooking or also that angsty indie rock when he’s in a mood or at the end of the day he puts his headphones on and just sinks into his bed while listening to indie rock

Rook Hunt: Jazz. French. Old Jazz French. edith piaf and ella fitzgerald. must i say more? ALSO CAN YOU IMAGINE RUNNING AWAY FROM HIM AND ALL YOU CAN HEAR BESIDES YOUR HEAVY BREATHING AND POUNDING HEART IS A FAINT HUMMING OF PADAM PADAM???? THAT’S HORRIFYING

Idia Shroud: Obviously K-pop and J-pop and also vocaloid. he would kill for miku (and you can quote me on that) this was was just obvious

Sebek: LITERALLY ANYTHING MALLEUS WOULD LISTEN TO. A N Y T H I N G. that or just silence…is what he would say but definitely an elvis kinda guy

Lilia Vanrouge: No context for any of these but tyler the creator, 2000-2020 pop, and christmas music (only in summer)

authors note: i think these goes here but anyways these are all just my opinions and i don’t expect anyone to agree with me also trey clover slander ALSO IF I FORGOT A COUPLE LAST NAMES I’M SORRY

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Out Patients 2 2001 Future Jazz / Acid Jazz / 2-step / Deep House

Oh my goodness, folks. Last week I made a post about UK drum n bass label Hospital Records' foray into stuff that they weren't typically known for with a 2000 release of theirs called Out Patients, but today I'm back with Out Patients 2, which came out the following year, and actually turns out to be on a whole different plane. I mean, I thoroughly enjoyed a lot of the stuff that was on the first installment of this series, but this near-exclusive crop of 11 songs here is just incredible—everything is a flat-out banger.

Now, while both of the first two volumes in this series are primarily comprised of future jazz joints, the secondary genres are a bit different. Out Patients provided a bunch of broken beat and a couple drum n bass tracks, but for this one, Hospital gives us some acid jazz, stuff with 2-step breaks—which they'd successfully utilize in their dnb output as well, as they played an integral role in the whole liquid dnb wave—and a couple fantastic pieces of deep house too.

And the deep house tune that happens to close out this whole shebang, "Shinobi," by Japan's Jazztronik, really just might be one of the greatest pieces of deep house that I've ever heard in my damn life. This is, like, a deep house track with different movements, you guys: a long, tribal open; followed by an extremely smooth section with a funky bassline, bleepy and snaky synth work, and leading flute improv; a little Brazilian breakdown; and then a tribal closing. Such a sublimely varied excursion that I can't believe Jazztronik didn't actually first save for one of his own releases.

But I'm really not even sure that "Shinobi" is actually my favorite track overall on here anyway, because what Hospital's founders, London Elektricity (who also operate under the alias of Future Homosapiens), managed to cook up with their remix of UK acid jazzers Izit's 1993 tune, "Bird of Paradise," is the one song on this comp that *really* left my jaw scraping the floor 😮. This is just such a totally unrelenting, 8-plus-minute barrage of fierce, uptempo, and transcendent acid jazz-dance glory that's already a certified bop in the early going before Nicola Bright-Thomas even opens her mouth. And when she gets to doing her Brazilian-inspired scatting, this thing hits a different level, but then it manages to climb even higher in the second half with an absolutely deadly combination of peppery flute and ring-dinging hi-hats added to it all too. And unlike everything else on this album, this one wasn't actually an exclusive when it appeared on here; Hospital sublabel Galactic Disco put it out on a 12-inch in 1998. And would you believe me if I then told you that that release only has a 3.64/5 rating on Discogs with this unreal stunner on it?! That's not a good rating at all by Discogs' standards! What are people even thinking?!?

Really blown away by this whole thing here. Another dispatch that especially excels at music that its premier dnb label is not really known for releasing in the first place. Some other labels of a future jazz-and-lounge-type bent could only hope to ever put out something that sounds as consistently good as this 😤🥺.

Landslide - "Hear My People" Pulcinella - "A'Bboss" Swell Session - "Speak" Audiomontage - "Come With Me" London Elektricity - "Unreality" Les Gammas - "Fez" Solid Roots - "Samba Sun" Izit vs. Future Homosapiens - "Bird of Paradise" Danny Byrd - "Changes (Yukihiro Fukutomi Remix)" Future Homosapiens - "Talkbox" Jazztronik - "Shinobi"

[soffpisces]

enhypen as emo bands!!

heeseung- taking back sunday

i'm not super sure if the vibes are there, but just based off of the music he's recommended, it's obvious he doesn't listen to heavy/upbeat music. i can also see him enjoying angsty music every once in a while. sometimes he gives me "angsty teen recovering from a breakup with their first love" yk? "your lipstick, his collar, don't bother angel. i know exactly what goes on."

jay- the red jumpsuit apparatus

he strikes me as a lowkey romantic person. so when he's in the mood, i can definitely see him listening to them whilst looking dramatically out a window lmao! fuckk honestly this is just based on his vibes, i have no more input lol. "i'll be there for you through it all. even if saving you sends me to heaven." i'm crying it's so corny but so good, just like jay<3.

jake- we the kings

okay so... this is purely based on their song "check yes juilet" ; like don't they just give off the same vibes?? we the kings is also an emo staple but they're not known for being actually emo, yk. so, they go well because when i think of jake, i don't necessarily think of sad music. jake gives me "sneaking in your window at night" and just 2000s-teenage-romance-vibes in general. "they'll tear us apart if you give them the chance. don't sell your heart. don't say we're not meant to be. run baby, run, forever will be you and me".

sunghoon- black veil brides

okay, hear me out... i wouldn't have chosen bvb for sunghoon if not for "in the end". sunghoon strikes me as someone who really enjoys the classics. he's always choosing the old but good songs for karaoke, so i have a feeling he could bop to this. i feel like he would have some emo/metal classics in his workout playlist... "as you fade into the night, who will tell the story of your life?"

sunoo- paramore

it was lowkey difficult to think of a band for him, but alas, haley williams appears in my brain. honestly, if he's feeling a little angsty, he could totally enjoy their music. his voice would be so delicious covering their song "all i wanted". "it's not a walk in the park to love each other. but when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny you're worth it."

jungown- fall out boy

the other day, i saw that jungwon recommended a green day song?? like hello?? so random. i considered the two but ended up going with fob simply because green day gives millennial-dad vibes. (don't get me wrong i love green day, but the energy is not there). my inspiration for this match is pretty similar to jake's. jungwon is just so teenage romance coded, so i think the two pair well with each other&lt;3. "i'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song."

ni-ki- escape the fate

okay, i was between putting etf or falling in reverse, but i figured most of falling in reverse's music is a little too goofy for ni-ki's vibe lol! and when i say etf, i mean ronnie's era specifically. imagining riki listening to them is making me want to cry; like the idea of the two of them is magical. but yea, this is honestly based purely on the vibes! i know niki has the heart of an emo;3. "how does it feel when your tears freeze when you cry? the blood in your veins is 20 below."

as you can probably tell, this is completely self-indulgent <3. i am desperately trying to make two worlds collide... i don't know if it's working or not, lol! tell me what you think!! emo engenes represent!!!

[fairytale-poll]

MOD'S CHOICE POLL!

This will be a collection of characters that I, the Mod, really enjoyed. I left Ella of Frell (Ella Enchanted) off the list due to the fact that she is in the finals and I thought it wouldn't be fair to put her against the rest of these characters, many of which lost early on.

Mod's propaganda under the cut:

Vasilisa the Beautiful:

Okay I loved this story so much when I was in middle and high school. Like a lot of people I knew I had a "Russian" phase where I became briefly obsessed with Russian history and mythology between the ages of 13 and 16. Vasilisa the Beautiful was by far my favorite "Cinderella variant" (though it feels weird to have called a lot of these fairytales regional variants throughout the tournament, I didn't know what else to call them) and as a teenager I read a few YA books that functioned as Vasilisa retellings. But none of them are as good as the original tale. It's such a banger and you should read it if you haven't already!

Eun Ha Won:

I don't have much to say about this one. Someone I knew really liked it so I put it on here in honor of her. Seems cute tho.

Yasmin as Cinderella:

I said this for the Mod's poll for Red Riding Hood, but as a child when visiting Pakistan I watched this movie HUNDREDS OF TIMES on a bootleg DVD, so many times that I think I wrecked the DVD. A childhood favorite!

Cinderella / Prinzessin:

As some of you know due to the fact that I am the mod of @yugipoll, I am a Yu-Gi-Oh fan! Watched it as a kid, somehow still am rewatching it to this very day. And she was such a great card! I loved her so much and she's so cute and pretty!!! I also like the arc that she's in, the KC Grand Championship is easily the best filler arc and I really like Ziegfried and Leon. Where are my Yu-Gi-Oh fans?

Hatsune Miku as Cinderella:

It's Hatsune Miku. Do you need any propaganda? Miku Miku.

Mary Santiago:

Not only is this one of my favorite teen comedies, but it's still one of my favorite movies even now. I have no idea why! Like I cannot tell you why I am so fond of this movie! Maybe it's because of the childhood nostalgia! Maybe it's because of Selena Gomez (extension of childhood nostalgia)! Maybe it's the fact I am fond of the late 2000s. But it's so good! Tell Me Something I Don't Know is one of the bops of all time!!!!

Harper Finkle as "Harperella":

Extension of the last one, but I have a lot of Selena Gomez nostalgia because of how much I loved Wizards of Waverly Place. She's not a big part of this episode, but I love and am nostalgic for Jennifer Stone as Harper just as much. I don't know why this episode stuck in my head so much, when it's one of the very last episodes of the entire show, but I feel like when I think of Cinderella retellings in a non-fairytale show, this is what I think of. The fact that there's a magic book that when you read it you have to play the story and that some of the pages ripped out and got mixed up... I really liked that!

[flock-of-cassowaries]

Five Questions for Nine People I’d like to get to know better.

@foxgloveinthesun Thank you for asking! There are friends of mine who would say you have made a grave error in extending this invitation, but I’ll do my best to not hog the microphone too much.

Last song: Dashboard by Modest Mouse, on repeat. Something about the melody really captures some of the low-level restlessness and frustration I’ve been feeling on and off since approximately 2015. And it’s a bop.

Favourite colour: Green, but like, kind of a yellow-green chartreuse situation. It evokes life and vibrancy for me. Also the colour of my sofa, which one of my long-time IRL friend hates, and which I have therefore specifically bequeathed to her in the event of my untimely death. (When I was initially sofa-shopping, my then-boyfriend confidently advised me it was “a neutral”. I now suspect he may have been colourblind.)

Honourable mentions to:

- the dark grey-blue the clouds get when it’s about to rain and everyone around me is cranky about it (because apparently, I am a troll)

- orange (my grandmother’s happy colour, and mine too; also the colour of her glorious, deep-pile shag carpets); and

- fuschia, because fuck my early-2000s-teenager NLOG internalized misogyny, I am allowed to fucking like pink.

Currently watching: Dark Shadows. I love a good campy soap opera, and oh my gosh, this one has exceeded all my expectations. So happy it’s available to stream. (For free! On Tubi.)

I’m also putting off finishing Doom Patrol. I have five episodes left, but I love the characters so much and don’t wanna let go.

Sweet / savoury / spicy: Savoury. I bow humbly at the altar of monosodium glutamate. But I also particularly love a sweet-savoury combo, like hoisin sauce.

Relationship status: Ended a long, tortured long-distance relationship with a cis man (who turned out to be a hardcore conspiracy-theory enthusiast) in January.

Trying to unburden myself of all of that baggage, and to work up the courage to put myself out there and date women, because I think that would probably work out better. I’ve never had the courage to do that before, even though I’ve always known I was attracted to women (since before I even knew I could be attracted to men), because I am, above all else, a coward 👍; and also, the above-mentioned internalized misogyny.

Buuuut last two times I’ve attempted a relationship with a man, I’ve get a lot of pressure to perform femininity in ways that didn’t feel natural to me, and gotten a lot of hostility directed at me due to my straight male partners feeling that being involved with me threatened their claim to straightness.

…and also, I really, truly no longer need to impress my dad. So, like, fuck it…?

But it’s still scary as fuck.

Current obsession: Succession; or, perhaps more accurately, my unfinished, un-posted, and perhaps excessively-ambitious Succession fanfiction, which I’ve been working on since last July.

I remember, in March 2023, hearing a local radio host talking about how excited he was to watch season four of Succession, and just thinking “That show sounds insufferable; why would I care about the power struggles of a group of ultra-rich assholes?”

Little did I know that the specific dynamics of the father-son relationship depicted therein;

…and the son (Roman)’s own relationship to his privilege (something he’s afraid to give up, but unable to fully realize because he just can’t quite pass as the cis straight man he’s supposed to be);

…and his relationship to his quasi-messianic father’s right-wing political convictions, which he has adopted as his own;

…and how this all exists in tension with his ambiguous, but undeniable, queerness (as the reason he can’t ever fully enjoy the privilege his wealth and maleness would otherwise afford - despite him never owning up to it, everyone around him reads him as gay, and reminds him of this constantly at the slightest hint of conflict);

— yeah, it just all maps so perfectly onto things I’ve struggled with myself over the past three decades; many which I have been ashamed to even acknowledge.

[Pause for breath.]

(Even though I have never been anywhere even proximate to the level of wealth depicted, I’ve had a lot of privilege from being white, comfortably-middle-class, beauty-standard attractive, and capitalism-compatible; but being an AFAB person playing the role of a cis woman (successfully, if rather uncomfortably), and not a cis or cis-passing man, has locked me out of the full exercise of the privilege that right-wing politics asserted would be mine, if only I conformed.)

(And also my dad is a self-styled philosopher king / violent lunatic who thinks Walter White, Machiavelli, and Richard Nixon are inspirational figures, and who subscribes to the right-wing daily newspaper founded by one of the men the patriarch in Succession is based on.)

So. I have a lot of ideas.

(Pictured: Me.)

Plus, the show has plot holes big enough to drive a fleet of Lincoln Town cars through (or perhaps a mega-yacht, pursued by angry orcas 🛥️ 🐳🐳🐳); and nothing spurs my creativity quite like a plot hole, so that’s just perfect for my fanfiction-writing process.

(And it also features a very kinky quasi-sexual situationship that, uh… does things for me. So. That’s a bonus.)

Last thing you googled: The publication date of Henry Ford’s favourite work of anti-Semitic hate propaganda. I’m listening to a chapter in an audiobook (“How Fascism Works”, by Jonathan Stanley, 2018 - Random House) that discusses it.

I don’t know if anyone else likes talking about themselves as much as I very evidently do, but I would like to extend the invitation to answer these same five questions to the following esteemed hell-sitecitizens: @inkandcayenne , @theveryparanormalgabriel , @scabby-lasagne , @scabby-lasagne , @trwinsome, @rockstar-moron , @saul-okayman , @threeguesses , and @reidoxreader.

[zahri-melitor]

Hi! How and when did you get into DC comics?

Well my original entry to DC was that I was a fan of Lois & Clark: the New Adventures of Superman when I was a kid and it was originally showing. This actually was a decent entrypoint to the DC mythos, as it's famous for having probably the best TV-comics synergy of all time: the Death of Superman was written to have a plot running while Lois & Clark built up to the wedding, so they could do simultaneous weddings in the comics and the show.

It worked out pretty well for DC.

But DC Comics, as comic books? Well somewhere around 2006 or so I'd transitioned into reading some fic for Lois & Clark, as a change. I then moved on to stories about Bruce/Selina (which I had a reasonable amount of background for from the Burton & Schumacher movies), and ended up in the scans_daily scene on LJ. This was the heyday of scans_daily, when you could pretty reasonably follow along a lot of major comics via the 1/3 posting rule; you didn't get everything, but that plus the summary got you across events pretty well.

I'd liked Barbara Gordon as a little girl, watching the movies. It was at this point I discovered Oracle.

The first comics graphic novel I ever purchased was Birds of Prey: Perfect Pitch. I've still got it. I ended up reading a bunch of runs recommended via content I liked on scans_daily: Birds of Prey, Robin, No Man's Land, Nightwing, Batgirl 2000, Blue Beetle, and Young Justice. A couple of these I was buying trades for (BoP and Blue Beetle); the rest I was reading via ye olde torrent packets. I was also reading and collecting a bunch of Vertigo titles: The Sandman, Fables, Y: the Last Man, and one or two Marvel titles (Runaways and Power Pack).

I dropped out of DC fandom, like so many others, around 2010-2011. It was actually prior to n52 in my case: I wasn't enjoying Batman Reborn, they'd cancelled my two favourite books (Birds of Prey and Blue Beetle), but the last straw was probably when they murdered Lian Harper.

I noped out. And it was a pretty good call on my part, given that n52 was barrelling down anyway.

I was still occasionally dipping in to read fic, mostly about characters I particularly cared about, but every time I took a breath and paid attention to gossip about what was currently happening in comics, it was mostly terrible news (Lian was still dead; people told me Roy's personality had been obliterated; Barbara was Batgirl and magically healed; the universe resets sucked and everyone hated them; Jason was somehow still alive; everyone was mad about something that had happened to Dick; etc etc)

It was during 2022, when I don't even know how I came across it, but I discovered that DC had finally reprinted Young Justice in trade. This was huge; collections had refused to do this during the 2000s aside from a trade of Sins of Youth back when it came out. There was a general attitude that the group of largely younger and largely female fans weren't worth catering to. The fact that DC now saw us as a lucrative market suggested to me that my contemporaries were finally getting their chance to start running the asylum.

So I dipped back into the community. It was a little hard at first, because hubs had changed, and locating fans who liked the things I personally liked took a little while. But I got back into the fandom, and got back into the fic, and discovered that back in about 2017 there'd been a revival to start reprinting a lot of my favourite comics runs, and that DCUI was the best way to read comics these days, and I could get access to it in Australia.

And because DCUI was just so much better than the methods of reading comics I'd been dealing with 15 years previously, and I'd had an idea for a story I wanted to write, I started a canon read through review, starting all the way back in ALPOD with Tim's earliest comics.

And here I am. I often have older opinions on things simply because I remember being in these debates 15+ years ago, and then I missed the intervening period, so my opinions never updated or heard the changed details (or are only slowly doing so now). I'm a preboot girl at heart because that's where I fell in love with various characters. I, like every other Batfan with a similar history to mine (and there are a lot of us) went through that moment of sheer bemusement over the Tim & Jason tag at AO3 as my most prominent memory of their relationship was Tim kicking Jason in the nuts.

And I've bought a lot of trades ever since getting back into the fandom, because I can't lose access to them AND they're just so far superior for collection purposes than floppies.

[wiihtigo]

How do I get into DC and batman and shit without reading a trillion comics

the animated shows are a great way if you dont want to read comics, batman especially has a ton of cartoons since you named him specifically (btas, brave and the bold, the handful of justice league cartoons, batman 04, so on and so forth) (brave and the bold especially is great cuz it has a bunch of dedicated episodes to C tier jobbers no one gives a fack about..its how i found out about characters like plastic man and blue beetle :) not that theyre c tier jobbers though..)

if you meant more that youre overwhelmed by the sheer amount of comics a character like batman has....yeah there is a lot

my advice is to grab onto some specific character or plot youve seen floating around online and latch onto it like a leech and just start from there....ermm for example.. i was enchanted by a friend of mines batjokes art so i went to go read the storylines they were drawing fanart from (they were contained in batman 2011- its a run i really enjoyed! funnily its the only new 52 comic i enjoyed. batman why do you get it all)

and from there, there were a few characters i remembered being interested in seeing out of the corner of my eye, like barbara gordon and cassandra cain, so i read batgirl 2000 and birds of prey 1999 (both bat affiliated books) ....its not the way everyone would do it but i dont see a problem with working your way backwards through comics! i read a little of nightwing and robins comics that were running alongside bop and batgirl but mostly i just focused on what grabbed me and let the love in my heart guide me.

theres also a buncha stupidhero movies. and games! none ive played personally but i heard the arkham games are preddy good.

hmm as for newer comics though i think the current ongoing worlds finest (superman & batman series) is good, its written by one of my favorite writers mark waid. and drawn by dan mora so it looks pretty too. and itd be shorter than some of these older comics....but older comics are so good...give them a chance...