#of COURSE this has to be a perfect analogy for whatever the hell’s going on with the third house 💀

[harrowharksoup]

Fourth GtN reread has me slamming my head into the wall like how does Muir write like this 😭

“Remember that your hands are now sisters, not twins; one executes your primary action and the other supports the move. Pray they don’t watch you fight too closely.” (GtN 63).

[jeongvision]

make a wish

synopsis. jaehyun loves you very much; so much that he came over to your place at midnight to wish you a happy birthday. meanwhile, you also love jaehyun very much; so much that you think that he deserves a very special present from you even on your birthday.

pairing. boyfriend! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader

genre. smut, fluff if you squint a little, established relationship au

word count. 2.9k

warnings. cursing, sexual themes (marking, fingering, choking, grinding, dirty talking, degradation, cum play, power play), some religious analogies

author’s note. make a wish english ver. is making me feel some type of way and jaehyun looking expensive in the mv is not helping me so i had to let it out somehow, so enjoy this thirsty work of art lmao

Today is your birthday, and all Jaehyun planned was to come over to your apartment at midnight with cake and sing you a happy birthday. After that, he’s all yours for the day. You’re free to do whatever you want, whenever you want with him for 24 hours. He was thinking maybe all you wanted to do is just stay in and cuddle while binge watching some netflix shows. Maybe order takeout if you’re feeling a little lazy to cook, and perhaps a few makeout sessions together here and there if you were feeling it. He could tell from your voice how exhausted you were from your work schedule based on the past couple phone calls.

What he did not expect however, is for you to be straddling his hips as you mark his neck up with purples and blues right after you blew out the candles.

And neither did you.

But that’s what makes it all fun, right?

You arrived at your apartment earlier close to 11 at night. work was tiring today. You work as a full-time cashier at a huge department store down the street. It was decent pay, enough to pay for your expenses and live life a little. You didn’t mind how demanding it could be sometimes, how customers can go from being exceptionally patient with your work to customers being absurdly rude to you for just breathing.

However, some of your coworkers called out for a week due to ‘personal reasons’, whatever that may be. Because of that, your manager has been scheduling everyone to work more to make up for all the missing shifts, including you.

You honestly didn’t mind it.

The only time you do is when it doesn’t allow you enough time to regenerate your social battery that you’ve been draining every night for the past two weeks. And every night before your shift ends, without fail, you always think to yourself how much you can’t wait to go home, take a nice, warm bath, and drift off to sleep, only for you to repeat the cycle again the next day. Oh, and maybe call up your boyfriend, if he was still awake, and talk about each other’s day for a bit.

But today is a little different— you finally get a day off to yourself.

You did your nightly after-work ritual: dinner, shower, bath, doze off a little, rinse, dry up, all that good stuff. But once you got dressed and finished blow-drying your hair, your doorbell rang exactly at midnight. You weren’t expecting any visitors this late, so it was reasonable that you were suspicious.

Who the hell? You were on high alert when you walked over to your front door, a wooden baseball in hand. When you went to take a look through the peephole, there was nothing but confusion all over your face. Why is Jaehyun here? As you pondered on, you noticed he held a beige box in both of his hands. As you peered closer you caught glimpse of the familiar label on its right side: it was from none other than your favorite bakery shop.

And that’s when it hit you.

It’s midnight.

You boyfriend is standing right outside your door, holding a box from your favorite bakery shop.

It’s your freaking birthday today.

You didn’t expect Jaehyun to be at your doorstep with a box of cake in his hands. In fact, you didn’t expect to see him at all on your birthday. You remembered him mentioning he had to work on your birthday. He felt bad that he couldn’t spend time with you. There’s always another day, love, you said to him.

And here you two are in the present: the candles have already been lit, birthday song have been sang, and the tiny smoke from the candles wafts through the air after you blew them out. Jaehyun told you that he called off work to spend the day with you and you were free to do whatever you wanted to do with him. You initially thought that spending the whole day inside lazing around would be the most perfect idea ever after all those strenuous hours at work.

But you had another idea in mind, an idea that stayed in the back of your mind after he sent you a scandalous text last week, stating all the things he wanted to do with you behind closed doors, away from public’s view. Of course he had to conveniently send it during your work shift and your nosy coworker just happened to peer over your shoulder reading the contents. It was all pure jest, my love, he said to you.

A joke it may be, but there’s no harm in making them come true, right?

Your arms are circled around his neck, legs stationed on either side of his legs with your ass planted firmly on his lap. You’re both sat on your living room couch, bodies pressed against each other with the cake long forgotten on your coffee table behind you. His hands are tucked underneath your shirt, caressing your soft skin.

As you continue to nip all over his neck, marking him up, he maneuvers his hands down to your rear, giving them a light squeeze. You sigh at his touch.

“Baby girl,” he grunts, “just what do you think you’re doing?”

You nip at a particular spot on his neck and he groans out loud. God, just the sound of him is enough for you to wet your panties. After licking down on his skin, you pull away from his neck and look down at your creation— there are blue and purple galaxies all over his throat, his lips are red and had a little swell to them from your sloppy makeout session earlier, and the eyes he looks at you with are filled with nothing but carnal lust for you.

You can’t help but feel pride burst in your chest because you did that. You made him, Jung Jaehyun, your boyfriend, look like that.

You gave him a lopsided grin, and he thinks to himself how he can’t wait to wreck you apart inside and out. “What does it look like I’m doing?” you cooed. You can feel his clothed erection poke at your thigh, pulsating underneath, so you grind on it teasingly, watching as his eyes roll back with his mouth open. “I’m just doing what my boyfriend wished for me to do through our text messages the other day. I wanted to show how appreciative I am that he came over and wished me a happy birthday.”

You face moves closer to his, your lips a breath away from his own. You lower your voice down to a whisper, “Is that wrong for me to do?”

He releases a throaty groan. You can feel him bucking up to gain some friction on his dick but you lifted your hips up a little from his lap. “Fuck,” he grunts.

You giggle softly at his reaction. You were never the one to take charge in bed. Jaehyun was always the one to initiate something and follow through with it. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you loved it. but the power you felt over him now was But you feel drunk on the feeling; you savored it, you felt intoxicated, and you wanted more.

Fuck it, screw those text messages. Let’s change it up a little, shall we? How about you take charge for the night?

But little did you know, that is exactly the opposite of what he was going to give you. It may be your birthday, but there’s no way in hell that you’re going to top tonight. You already mentioned those text messages he forgot about, and there’s no way he’s going to make you turn your words back on it.

Before you could even register anything, his right hand that was planted on your ass moves to your front where he cupped your clothed sex. You gasp, eyes blown out, hands now gripping onto his shoulders.

“O-oh!” you mewl.

And so, the reins have been handed over to him. As it should, he thinks. He smirks a little. His fingers rubs against your core at an agonizingly slow pace just to tease you a bit. He could feel the heat radiating off your body and wanted nothing more than to bask in it.

Just as he was about to move his hand away, you grab his wrist to hold it in place.

“Mm.. more..” you quiver.

He clicks his tongue. “Dirty little whore.”

After feeling how your thin shorts were starting to get drenched, he pulls his hand away from your grasp and shoves them inside your panties. Immediately, he can feel you dripping, his fingers and palm collecting all of your essence. His fingers deftly circle your clit before gliding them back and forth on your soaked folds.

Your mind is in a spiral.

“Holy fuck!” And holy, his fingers are, especially when he inserts two fingers inside your pussy. “O-oh my god, Jaehyun-n!”

He sadistically thrusts in and out of your entrance, his thumb stimulating your nub, your moans getting more fervent. “Acting all spoiled just because I’m letting you do whatever you want with me for your birthday. Just who do you think you are? Should I remind you who’s the one in charge here?” he growls.

You whimper at his words, shamelessly grinding yourself onto his hand as his other wraps snugly around the back of your neck.

He grins, face dangerously close to you now. “Now look at you, all fucked out from only my fingers. This pussy just can’t wait for me to fuck you nice and deep, huh? Is that what you want?”

You didn’t answer him, your mind too preoccupied from the bliss his fingers are giving to you. The sweat forming on your skin created a glistening sheen on your exposed collarbone, and all he wants to do is to just ravage it.

And he just might.

His hand wrapped around your neck tightens a little, sending more pleasure through your body and core.

“Answer me, slut.”

You cry out a little, “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You fail to swallow back your moans. “I-I want you to.. fuck me nice and- oh!”

His fingers hit that delicious spot inside you, your body jerking in response.

“Fuck you nice and what?”

Your sighs come out shakily, “Nice a-and.. deep, with your c-cock- oh my god!”

“God can’t save you now, fucking slut.”

He feels you tightening around his fingers, sending him to fasten his pace. Your grip on his shoulder intensifies, enough to painfully indent his skin. After a few more thrusts from his fingers, a coil inside you snaps, stars blurring your vision as a shockwave overtakes you. You did nothing to suppress your screams as your juices flowed out your core. His fingers continue to thrust in and out of you throughout your orgasm but finally stops as he sees you start to calm down.

Your breathing is erratic, trying to catch up after that earth-shattering orgasm you just experienced. After he feels you relax in his embrace, he lets go of your neck and rests it on your waist. He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you shuddered at the loss of contact. Your cum slowly drips out of you onto your panties and shorts, some of it gliding onto your thighs where he can visibly see it.

God, does he want to have a taste. You’re definitely going to need some new shorts and undies now. With your half-opened eyes in a complete daze and your breathing evened out, he brings his fingers to your lips, staring dauntingly at your orbs.

“Suck.”

And you obliged. He pushes his fingers past your mouth and you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself. Your tongue swirls around his digits, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

He gravely groans at the sight. “So naughty..” He pulls his fingers away and takes hold of your chin, ravenously capturing your lips with his own, tasting a little bit of you in the process. Your tongue glides past his as he dominates your mouth whole. Your arms wrap around his neck once more, pulling him closer to your soul. His lips are always soft, and yet he kisses you as if he wants to devour you up until your knees buckled.

He breaks away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, and he maneuvers his way down to your throat.

Now it was his turn to paint your neck pretty.

“So fucking naughty for me,” he moans. As he assaults your neck, you rack your nails through his hair, gently pulling on its ends. You could feel him sigh onto your neck as a result of it. He honestly loves it when you pull onto his hair, almost a little too much.

After he was satisfied with his artwork, he looks back up to you and delicately pecks your lips. The corner of his mouth lifts, his dimples now on full display. “Happy birthday, baby.”

You tiredly giggle at the complete change in his demeanor. You were so in love with this man, and you would do anything to make him happy.

“Thank you, my love.”

He grins at you. And he was so in love with you, he would do anything to keep you happy.

He kisses you once again, this time with much more passion and purpose. He held onto your waist as you held onto his neck, enjoying each other’s presence. Afterr staying in each other’s embrace for some time, foreheads touching, a thought popped in Jaehyun’s head.

“You know, you never told me what you wished for.”

Oh, but what is there to wish for when your present is right in front of you?

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s nothing really.”

He tsks out loud, “Baby, we both know that’s a lie.” He moves away from you and leans forward to the side of your face. And all of the sudden, you feel him nibbling your earlobe, kitten licks in between.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to keep your composure together. Surely, you were still recovering from your last orgasm— the attention he was giving to you got you feeling aroused for him again.

He snickers gravely.

Oh how fucking sinful the sound of that is.

“Come on, baby girl. Just tell me. Maybe I can make your wish come true.”

The moan you just released was lecherous to him.

“Answer me, then you shall receive.”

The devil works hard, but Jaehyun works harder.

You quiver at his command. No matter how many times you were intimate with each other, you could never get used to all the dirty talk. Jaehyun was always clear-cut about his wants and needs, but you never were. Mot until you’re pushed on the spot like now.

You swallow down your embarrassment and meekly respond. “I-I.... suck you..”

He stops his teasing and backs up to look at you. “Hm? What was that?” His smirk returns. “I didn’t quite catch that. Speak up, baby. Use your words.”

You refuse to answer, but he pays no mind. You’ll eventually cave in, you always do.

“Baby, I’m waiting.”

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “I didn’t wish for anything.”

“And why is that?”

You eyes opened up but you look away from his gaze, humiliation all over. Hou stammer over your words, “B-Because.. you’re my birthday wish.”

He lazily grins, bringing his left hand to cup your cheek. That’s when you decided to look up into his eyes. “And what do you wish to do with me?”

You gulp. “I want to.. suck you.”

“Suck where exactly?”

Fucking hell. He’s enjoying this way more than you are. Just who is getting their birthday present here? You groan out in a frustrated manner. To hell with this.

“Your cock. I want your cock in my mouth. O want your fucking dick in my mouth and I want you to use my mouth and fuck it like your own personal toy.” After realizing that you just said, you gasp and covered your mouth with both of your hands. You’re now embarrassed out of your mind, completely wanting the ground to just swallow you up.

You just said that to him, but Jaehyun found it quite adorable that you were capable of saying such things.

And so, he removes your hand from your face, grips on your wrist, and kisses you, a loud smooch throughout the room. After that, he places one of your hands onto his prominent bulge, painstakingly waiting for you attention this entire time. “Baby, you don’t have to say it twice.”

And you couldn’t have been quicker. You step off of him, assuming position with your knees on the floor. He hastily stands up from your couch and works on unzipping his jeans with your help. After pulling his dick out, your mouth waters. Veins aligned along its sides, red at the tip with precum leaking out.

He chuckles at you. “Aren’t you an eager little whore?”

Your eyes shoot up to his, eyes sinfully taking you in. “Just can’t wait to have my cock in your mouth, huh? Greedy little whore. zi bet all you want is my cum in your mouth.” He clicks his tongue.

With one hand on his member and the other holding onto the back of your head, you look down at his shaft. You feel him guiding your head towards him. With your mouth wide open, tongue splayed out for him, you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Happy birthday, baby girl. Now make a wish and blow.”

[ray-ray-writings]

Tightrope-Dream

This is a self indulgent Dream x gn!reader in the dreamsmp that I was going to post a while ago but got to insecure about it to post. But now that I haven’t posted in a few days and I don’t know when I’ll get to write again, I decided to say f*** it and post it. So I hope you enjoy hahaha. 

Based off of this song. Song lyrics are in bold. 

Masterlist here

Y/N and Dream have been together for what feels like forever. But when Dream says that he cares about nothing anymore, Y/N takes a moment to evaluate the tightrope walk they call their relationship. 

Y/N’s POV

“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” I heard Dream spit from behind an obsidian wall. “I do not give a fuck about Spirit. I don’t give a fuck about anything actually! All I care about is your discs. I care MORE about your discs than you do. That’s the only thing I care about on the server...” His words hit me like a brick. Dream didn’t care about anything. That means he doesn’t care about me… That can’t be true, right? We’ve been together since the beginning… Before the beginning! I was by his side when we made this server. I fought beside him in every single war, no matter how in the wrong I thought he was… When I would tell him what I thought he would simply brush me off. We used to make every decision together but lately it seems that I was just another obstacle in his way. Or maybe just another pawn in his game. 

I came out of my daze to hear the end of Dream’s speech, maybe this part he’ll fix his wording… “Don’t try and threaten me. I don’t care. I have lost all care for anything on the server…” Well there goes that hope. I couldn’t help the sobs that fell from my mouth at his words. He doesn’t care for anything on the server… I’m on the server. George, Sapnap, Punz, Bad, all his friends were on the server. He doesn’t care about us. 

Suddenly it was very quiet, I knew they had heard me. I took this opportunity to step out from behind the wall I was hiding behind. All eyes softened at the sight of me, Dream’s eyes softening the most. “Y/N” he tried, taking a few steps forward but I held out a hand to stop him, “Don’t. You don’t care about anything on this server… Remember?” I hissed, marching away from him, not even turning around when he called my name once more. 

I was at a lost as to where to go. I couldn’t go home. Dream would be there soon enough. I couldn’t go to the community house, too many memories. I knew he would find me at a friend’s house. Besides I needed to be alone. I needed to be somewhere where I could look down and think about everything. Then it hit me and I couldn’t stop the laugh that made it past the tears. “The reverse coaster.” 

When Tommy first built this contraption, everyone, myself included, called him crazy. Who would want to climb all the way up to the top of a track just to go down it again. Now I couldn’t help but be thankful that he had made this. The journey to the top took fifteen minutes, but it was worth it. I could see everything from here. It was beautiful. Walking the thin line while looking at the ground really made me think of a tightrope… A perfect analogy for my relationship with Dream right now. Dream…

Some people long for a life, simple and planned

Tied with a ribbon

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land, to follow what's written

But I'd follow you to the great unknown

Off to a world we call our own

I was with Dream when he began the server. He had gotten tired living under someone else’s rule and wanted a place we could call our own. He convinced me… although it didn’t take much convincing, I would follow him anywhere. So one night we packed up what little we could carry and we left. We left into the unknown, not knowing where we were going. But we knew everything would be alright as long as we had each other.

Hand in my hand and we promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope 

High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below.

We're walking a tightrope 

Never sure, never know how far we could fall

But it's all an adventure that comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope, with you

Through everything. I had always been Dream and I. For the longest time, you would never find one without the other. Our hands always seemed to interlocked. I guess it wasn’t until the first L’Manberg war when things started pulling us apart. We would stand on the obsidian walls that Dream and Sapnap had built around L’Manberg, just observing. Dream would constantly be making battle plans in his head and I was just there for moral support, I guess. We spent countless hours just watching the ‘hot dog stand’ waiting for someone to come out and make a move. 

There were some nights where the scene was almost breathtaking. The walls were pretty high up, we could see a lot of the server. Everything was lit up beautifully. Building shined brightly and everything was warm and welcoming. It was perfect. I would try and get Dream to dance with me. The first few times he would agree and we would slow dance around the walls. But as battle drew nearer and nearer, we danced less and less until it stopped all together. 

Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between. Desert and ocean.

You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream. Always in motion.

So I risk it all just to be with you

And I risk it all for this life we choose

Dream and I had fights. What couple didn’t? Dream would do something stupid and I would grill him about it but we always made up. We never went to bed angry. I never would let him leave home on adventure without a hug and a kiss goodbye. No matter how far he would travel, I always knew he would come home to me and that we loved each other. Being with Dream was…  well a dream. We loved each other endlessly. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him and I knew the feeling was mutual. 

I would risk everything to be with him. Leaving the safety of one server to begin another? No problem. Fight in a war where he was on the ‘bad side’? Anything for my baby. I would give my life if it meant Dream lived. I used to know the feeling was mutual… 

Hand in my hand and you promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below

We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?

I never had to worry. I knew that Dream was right there beside me. Always one step ahead. Filling in cracks and gaps in Prime Path so I wouldn’t trip and fall. Checking in on my mental health so I wouldn’t fall into a panic attack or into a depression. I always knew he would catch me, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I could trust him to be there for me. Now I’m not so sure. 

Well, it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you

Loving Dream. Being with Dream. Giving everything to Dream was and always has been an adventure. Many times it took me to new heights. Let me see things I had never seen before, leaving me breathless. I was balancing on a tightrope and he was right behind me, making sure I was okay, that I was safe. He would make sure I knew how much he cared for me. How much he loved me. 

These thoughts just swirled in my head. I sat down, my legs dangling over the cobblestone as I stared at the ground. What do I do from here? Dream says he doesn’t care about me anymore. For as long as I could remember, my whole life had revolved around Dream. Doing whatever he needed, being who he needed me to be. Given, he did the same thing for me. Where do I go from here? 

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from below, breaking me from my concentration. My eyes scanned the ground to find that familiar green hoodie. “What are you doing up there?” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, “Why do you care?” I shouted back. There was a moment of silence before he responded, “Come down! I want to talk,” Dream called. I watched as he placed a water bucket and motioned for me to jump down. I hesitated for a moment… Did I trust him? There’s only one way to find out. 

I took a deep breath before allowing myself to fall from the top of the reverse coaster. I couldn’t help but let out a giggle as the water cradled me securing me a safe landing. I quickly realized why I had jumped down in the first place and stood up to face Dream, looking down at the ground. “I’m here… What do you want?” I questioned harshly. “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to apologize and explain myself,” He answered, trying to get me to look at him. I refused and remained silent, motioning for him to go on. 

“I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I didn’t. I care about you so much Y/N. Tommy just gets me so worked up sometimes and I just speak without thinking. I love you and care for you. You know that!” Dream exclaimed, reaching out to try and grab my hands. I quickly pulled them away and snapped my eyes to his, “Do I?” I barked, causing Dream to flinch at my tone. “Do I know that you love me? That you care for me? Do I? Because lately it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it,” I snapped, all my feelings radiating off of me. “We used to do everything together. Make every decision together. We would walk the tightrope together, but lately it just feels like you’ve let me hung out to dry.” 

Dream gaped at me, “I didn’t know you felt this way,” He murmured, moving toward me once more. And once again, I moved and scoffed, “That’s because you’ve been too caught up in your big scheme Dream. You’ve been using me as another pawn.” Dream began to protest but I held up a finger to cut him off, “Don’t even try to deny it. You come to me and ask me for something and once I do it, you toss me aside, only coming back when you need something. And I’m sick of it, Dream.” 

Dream was silent as he thought about everything. “You’re right,” He spoke after a few moments of silence. “You are absolutely right. I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve been horrible to everyone… I’m so sorry.” Tears began to leak from Dream’s face as he spoke. “Please, give me another chance. I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I’ll be the man that you want, the one you need. Please.” He begged, reaching out to grab my hands. This time I let him grab a hold of them and hang on.

 “It’s going to take some time. The damage you’ve done it too great to fix with a simple apology. You’re going to have to work hard to prove to me that you’ve changed,” I explained, looking deep into Dream’s beautiful green eyes. He nodded quickly, “I will. As long as it takes.” Dream leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. “I love you so much Y/N” He murmured into my ear. “I love you too Dream. Always have, always will.”

Hope you enjoyed. If so be sure to leave a like, maybe even a reply or a reblog. Like I said I’m pretty insecure about this piece so I would love to know what you think. 

[wickymicky]

wickymicky’s Top Ten Kpop Songs of 2021

1: Everglow - First

Alright, here we go. I’ve been itching to write this post since the day this song came out. Hopefully I do a good job, lol. Having this as my song of the year is probably not an especially popular or common opinion, but I think this song is perfect, and I wanna explain why. So, here goes.

First is such an absolute monster of a song. It packs a harder punch than almost any other kpop song I’ve heard. If you’re wondering why I picked this as my song of the year because you listened to it and just thought it was a decent banger, but not anything remarkable, my advice is to pay attention to the instrumental and the production. Yes, this song has orchestral strings or whatever, and yes that can be pretty corny sometimes. The “epic” vibe is really tough to sell, because it usually just comes across as pretentious. But this isn’t an epic orchestral song, this is a hiphop or edm song that beats the shit out of you in the way that a punk or metal song would, lol. The percussion in this song is loud, and it’s all over the place in this song. The way they hit all of the beats with their words, and the way the percussion decks you in the face to highlight their words, is so cool. The synths sound so gnarly, especially the one playing the hook in the chorus, and the one in the verses when Aisha says “knock knock, there’s a monster”. Just listen to the way that synth sounds... the texture on it. When the orchestral bits do come in, they’re woven in with the percussion and bass and stuff, so it doesn’t feel like it’s trying to be something “epic”, it just feels to me like it’s there to heighten the intensity of the moment, to fill the song out with something different, to make the song kind of soar and not just be low to the ground and dirty, like it would be without those bits, haha. 

First isn’t just any old monster though. It’s like a Dark Souls or Bloodborne boss or something lmao. It’s not a bodybuilder, it’s a boxer. It packs a hell of a punch, but most importantly, it’s fast. It’s not some hulking behemoth, it’s nimble, it bounces around on its toes, and takes you out before you know what hit you. I think that’s a key difference between it and some of Everglow’s previous songs, in particular Adios and Dun Dun. When their debut, Bon Bon Chocolat, came out, I liked it a lot, and I still do. Adios was good too, but didn’t quite live up to their debut for me, and I felt the same way about Dun Dun. I wasn’t sure if they’d ever be able to do something as good as Bon Bon Chocolat again. I was especially worried because, from Adios onwards, they had a new producer team, and I felt like I wanted the Bon Bon Chocolat team to come back, cause I wasn’t sure about the direction that the Adios-Dun Dun team was taking them. La Di Da eased a lot of my worries lmao, but it was a very different song. Before First came out, I did think that it was likely to sound more like Adios and Dun Dun than La Di Da, and I wasn’t sure if I’d like it that much. Adios and Dun Dun are good, but to use my monster analogy lmao, those songs definitely would be bigger, hulking monstrosities haha. They’re not nimble, they’re a bit slower. They’re beefy. First is zipping around and hopping on one leg before it hits you like a truck. 

Look at the way they lead into the drops in their choruses. Adios does its “Goodbye, au revoir, adios” bit, which takes a while. You know the drop is coming, and it’s making you wait for it. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, I’m just saying. Dun Dun has the “you’re so done-done-done-done-” bit. Even La Di Da has its “Everglow Forever let’s go”. The chorus drops start after they finish saying their lines. There’s a brief moment of silence, that the songs lull you into, before they explode again. They set it up, and wait a moment, and then plow forth at you. First doesn’t do that. The line they say before the chorus is “You know that I come FIRST”, and the drop hits on “FIRST”. Also, that line isn’t sung as if they’ve come to a halt and are looking you in the eye, they’re not pausing the momentum to deliver a one-liner before charging forward again... in First, they don’t stop the momentum. “You know that I come FIRST” isn’t a line that is delivered before punching you in the face, it’s a line that is delivered while punching you in the face. It is the punch in the face. It’s not before the drop, it is part of the drop. That’s what I mean. This song never really comes to a stop until the bridge, but by that point you need it, haha. Not that the bridge doesn’t pick the momentum back up pretty quickly of course, cause it definitely does. I’m so, so impressed by this song. It’s not bloated, or too grandiose or whatever... it’s sneaky, it’s light on its feet, it’s lethal. It demands your full attention.

Anyway, I could go on and on about this song. I can’t think of anything I really dislike about it. But, it’s not just that. This song absolutely defined 2021 for me. I listened to it 600 times. That’s... kind of ridiculous. That’s a testament to how I just don’t get tired of this song, haha. It’s also a testament to how much I fell for Everglow this year. I always liked them, but this is a new level for me. I guess the last thing I have to say about First is just... look, in my opinion... if you don’t think it deserves to be this high, I just think you’re not listening to the song loud enough.

links to the rest of the list:  10 - After School (Weeekly) 9 - Love So Sweet (Cherry Bullet) 8 - Odd Eye (Dreamcatcher) 7 - Eleven (IVE) 6 - Rub-a-Dum (TRI.BE) 5 - Holiday Party (Weeekly) 4 - Ring x Ring (Billlie) 3 - Zombie (Purple Kiss) 2 - ASAP (STAYC) 1 - First (Everglow)

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

[thevindicativevordan]

Any thoughts on Grant Morrison's Action Comics run? Beyond T shirt-and-jeans Superman being great.

That whole run reinvigorated my love of the character.

There have been numerous thoughtpieces about New 52 Superman, how he worked and how he didn't but these two entries really do a great job of summing up why Morrison's take on Superman was great. Morrison laid the foundation for a new generational Superman that DC completely fucked up and ran into the ground. I'll always be bitter about that, even if I had tapped out of reading the New 52 Superman books by the end due to how bad they got. Editorial and their idiotic mandates were what screwed over the potential of this take in my eyes.

Now I get that it wasn't to everyone's taste, but I cannot fathom how anyone could ever claim that Pre-Flashpoint Superman was better. If you liked Byrne's reboot better, your guy already got rebooted after Infinite Crisis. For someone like me who really enjoyed the Johns/Busiek era, that era's potential got spoiled after Johns & Busiek left, with New Krypton imploding and the awful Grounded taking it's place. When you get to the point where the best Superman book is the one starring Lex Luthor, it's time to reassess the franchise and figure out where the hell it went wrong.

Which is exactly what Morrison did. For this new Superman, Morrison mined all the best ideas of every Superman era to really give what I consider the ideal "base" for Superman. They also took pains to address common criticisms about Superman, working to correct his pop culture image. People have been complaining that Superman is "too perfect", "too unrelatable" for a long time, so Morrison addressed that. They gave Superman his balls back, and let him reacquire that Golden Age edge he had originally.

There are a lot of complaints you can make about Morrison's Superman, but I don't see how you could accuse this guy of being "flawless" or "bland". He definitely had a personality that you could describe, love him or hate him. Compassionate, but not a pushover. Clearly holding himself back, but unafraid to occasionally let loose. Flaws that were patently obvious, Clark had a temper here that could get him into trouble. There was a real showcase of anger here, of Superman being furious at the way people were treated by the rich and powerful, then doing something about it that I ate up.

I read this run just as I was coming into my teens and it hit perfectly for where I was in life. Did not want a Superman who would smile and tell me it gets better, I wanted a Superman who looked you in the eye and told you he felt that same anger, and then encouraged you to go out and do something about how you felt. That was what this run delivered in spades, and it expanded what I believed could be done with Superman.

While it totally blew my mind to see Superman acting this way the first time I read Morrison's Action Comics run, in retrospect it really isn't that different from how Superman has acted even under Byrne. One of the few traits I've seen carry across Superman incarnations in the comics is that he has a temper underneath that affable nature. "Don't tug on Superman's cape" as the old song goes. This run simply elevated that to the forefront of the character again, for the better in my eyes given I believe "Wrath" is Superman's Deadly Sin.

In fact, one of the strongest features of this run is that Superman gets actual character development over the course of the run, analogous to what Batman underwent in Morrison's Bat-Epic. While the Bat-Epic was merely Morrison re-canonizing Batman's entire history, and applying a retroactive character development storyline that culminated in Morrison's current Batman work, their Action Comics run had them attempt to craft something similar for Superman from scratch. What that meant was Morrison attempting to draw on the most important traits of every Superman era and incorporate those into this new take. So Superman had the Golden Age temper, compassion for the oppressed, and cockiness. The Silver Age supergenuis, proud scion of Krypton who cherished his Kryptonian nature, member of the Legion of Superheroes, and participant in stories that weren't afraid to get weird. Superman's wrestling with his place in the world, the importance of Clark Kent, and making journalism a key part of the character strike me as all being hallmarks of the Bronze Age. From Post-Crisis we got that Clark views himself as human and loves his adopted parents, considering them as equal to his birth ones.

One of the big frustrations for me with the endless origin stories for Superman, is that so many of them follow a predictable and stale formula where Clark puts on the suit and is essentially ready to go. Doesn't interfere with human affairs, is modest and humble, restrained in usage of his powers, it's like Clark has meta knowledge of what he "should" be, despite that he shouldn't have any foreknowledge of what a "superhero" should look like. He operates the same way at the start as he does in the modern day, and that's really boring to me. This Superman, because of the difference in powers and attitude, operated extremely different from his "present day" incarnation. Dangling Glenmorgan over the edge of a building isn't something a fully powered and mature Superman should do, but it works great to make his early days different and exciting to read about, it makes returning to that era something you can do different storytelling with. This run is the only time where I really cared that Superman is "supposed" to be the first superhero, because figuring out what that means here is a big part of how he develops.

We all know the common complaint that Superman is "too powerful" and that "nothing can hurt him" (funny how Thor never gets hit with those accusations), so Morrison made sure to show that this take on Superman could be beaten even if he could never be defeated. Events conspired to force Clark to use his brains as well as his powers to overcome the challenges in front of him.

Examples include him using his heat vision to fry Lex's equipment and escape the military, using his rocket ship to defeat Brainiac, and rallying the population of Metropolis to banish Vyndktvx. Not to say that Clark never used his brains before to win, but this run was very upfront and in your face about how important Clark's intellect is to triumphing over his foes. Can't take seriously the complaint that Superman is too overpowered when Morrison constantly showcased how even a very powerful Superman could get his shit wrecked by his Rogues.

Another example of Morrison addressing criticisms is Kryptonite. A lot of people poke fun at how convenient it is that pieces of Superman's homeworld follow him all the way to Earth. Isn't that a bit of an asspull? So Morrison made Kryptonite the power source of Superman's rocket, giving it a perfectly natural and believable reason both for it to end up on Earth, and for Lex & the military to get a hold of it since Pa Kent gave the military the rocket. That's still my preferred explanation for how Kryptonite ended up on Earth.

It also provides a better explanation for all the different Kryptonite variants. DC can handwave away the different types as a result of Lex experimenting or the different "forces" on Earth such as magic or the Speed Force or whatever creating the different variants. That to me is much more believable than Kryptonite travelling all across the galaxy yet still ending up on Earth somehow.

There have also been a lot of complaints about Superman's villains, and Morrison diligently set about reworking them. By far one of my favorite aspects of the run, was the villain revamps. Nimrod felt like a clean revamp of Terra-Man, making him into Superman's Kraven the Hunter struck me as a patently obvious route to go, wild no one has followed up on that or used him since. Metallo felt like a good synthesis of Johns take of him as an Anti-Superman weapon, and the sympathetic aspects of Corben's origin that are always there, I liked that Morrison didn't make him a total bastard before his transformation like Johns did. Brainiac got some sympathy added to him in that the collected worlds that were already marked for damnation, thus he was "saving" them in a fashion. Clay Ramses embodied toxicity as a wife-beater even before becoming Kryptonite Man, and I thought his backstory was a great way for Clark to still deal with "real" issues via a manner he could punch. Ramses is still the best take on Kryptonite Man. Vyndktvx felt like the greatest realization of the threat Mr. Mxyzptlk could pose should he decide to get serious since Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?, plus I'm a sucker for stories where superheroes fight the Devil. Drekken and Superdoom took the only interesting aspects of Doomsday (his ability to evolve and that he can kill Superman respectively), and were much more interesting characters.

And oh my God, speaking of Superdoom, that part of Morrison's Action run has aged like fine wine. I don't know if they caught wind of DC's plans for the character, or if they were just prescient, but everything that Superdoom is playing on is still sadly all too present. What Superdoom is as a character is a condemnation of what DC keeps doing with Superman: killing him off or making him evil.

When you realize what Superdoom (demand for a more violent and "realistic" Superman) and Vyn (WB/DC) stand in for, it makes the frustration Morrison is channeling much more palpable. Those two plotlines are all DC can think of to do with the character, returning to those again and again. Endlessly attempting to recapture the high of Batman and Doomsday beating the shit out of Supes in The Dark Knight Returns and Death of Superman. Overcoming these two obstacles is Superman's greatest challenge as conceived by Morrison, because both are out to corrupt and ruin the very idea of him. It's not just a physical death he faces, but a metaphysical one as well. Sadly it's a threat Superman just can't seem to lick in the real world, with more and more takes on "Evil Superman" coming.

Lois and Jimmy are great here, because Morrison actually made the investigative journalism aspect of Superman important. Lois is an active participant in the story, trying to break in to the base where Clark is being held by her father, competing with Clark for stories (I love how Morrison writes the banter between the two of them), and generally being classic Lois. Jimmy though benefitted from being positioned as a peer rather than as a kid in comparison to the two, something I wish the comics had carried forward. It looks like My Adventures With Superman is going with that interpretation at least, so I hope others do as well. Jimmy being Clark's roommate really adds to their bond, and I wish we had gotten more stories with that status quo.

Investigative reporter Clark Kent was so actively used here that it feels jarring reading other Superman runs where they tend to downplay and ignore it. Following Clark as he travels to different areas of Metropolis and actually interacts with people, instead of hovering above them as Superman, makes him feel human. Watching Clark actively pursue stories aimed at bettering peoples livelihoods, and seeing how those stories crossed with the superheroics, was one of my favorite aspects of the run. It's one unfortunately few other writers seem all that interested in, especially the New 52 writers who followed Morrison (I know editorial probably bears a lot of blame for that though).

Besides all that, this run was a lot of fun! The Legion of Superheroes showed up, their connection to Clark restored, and they got to play a big role in Clark's adventures! Krypto the Superdog! Martian colonies! Memorizing all of medicine, Superman performs a lifesaving operation! Lex using a "bullet train" to knock Clark out! 5-D imps! Rampaging robots from beyond! A Phantom Zone Halloween story! John Henry Irons suits up as Steel and kicks ass alongside Clark! Every Superman Rogue teams up to try to kill him, but Lex Luthor saves his life because that's a privilege he reserves for himself! Showcasing their trademark love for the Supermythos, Morrison took us on a tour of Superlore that demonstrated the depth and width of what could be done with Superman. Meanwhile the backups by Sholly Fisch excelled at giving us smaller, more human stories about Superman (the one where Clark meets Pa again via time travel "after" Pa has died always gives me a lump in my throat to read).

Ultimately this didn't get to be the foundation for the next generation of Superman stories as it deserved. Johns made New 52 Superman the scapegoat in Doomsday Clock for a lot of storytelling choices he did over in Justice League, something that pisses me off to no end. You want to tell me that this guy "didn't relate" to people, didn't inspire "hope"?

Like hell he didn't. This guy was Superman in every way that mattered and he deserved better than to be framed as the scapegoat for all the stupid decisions DC made about what to do with him. Greg Pak was able to do some great work with this version after Morrison, and just like how Gene Yang got a redemption work starring Superman, I hope to one day see Pak return to the character. Would love to read a Black Label Superman story by Pak that follows his take on young Superman.

All wasn't lost however. Against all odds, and Rebirth trying it's damndest to sweep everything under the rug, it looks like parts of this era have actually survived to the current Infinite Frontier era. With Morrison being heavily involved no less, both as an ideas guy and as an actual writer.

Superman & the Authority is explicitly Superman coming full circle back to the attitude displayed by his young counterpart under Morrison. Janin has outright said that the costume Clark wears here is reminiscent of the t-shirt and jeans era of Superman, and this book so far feels saturated with an energy level from Morrison I haven't seen in their work for hire since they left Action. Reaching old age and realizing he never really delivered on the high ideals of his beginnings, it's Superman putting together a team to hopefully succeed where he couldn't alone. Scathing in how it criticizes the superhero status quo, this has been extremely entertaining to read. Wish Morrison was writing 12 issues with this team, and that ultimately it will be up to PKJ to deliver on the potential is a drawback (although I've loved PKJ's Action run so far), but I'm glad to see DC finally treating Morrison and their ideas with more respect than was shown during Rebirth.

Jon meanwhile feels like an even more explicit attempt at redoing New 52 Superman. There's the updated new suit, designed to appeal to a new generation with it's streamlined look. Positioning Jon as a Superman who wants to tackle the "real" issues, with Taylor explicitly comparing him to Golden Age Superman which as I mentioned was an era Morrison tried to reincorporate into their reboot. There's the Legion of Superheroes connection which played an important role in Morrison's reboot. The rumors about Jon's sexuality are interesting, hinting that DC is willing to go outside the box with him in a way they never would with Clark. I'm excited to see what kind of Superman Jon ends up becoming, if he can deliver on the promise of the New 52 Superman all the better.

This run deserves to be remembered and to have the lessons it tried to teach respected. Probably my favorite mainline run on Superman, I hope more people come around to liking it as time goes on.

[jjk-anime-horray]

Gambler's Woe

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Any basic dice has six sides to it, but you always role them in a pair. While you have twelve possible number outcomes, and thirty six combinations, statistically the least likely number total you can bet on is one and twelve. One and twelve are the least likely to outcomes to happen, and that being said they are your favorite to bet on because you could make that 2.78% chance of falling on one or twelve (5.56% together) into whatever you wanted it to be. Gambling wasn't a gambling to you. The probability of the out come was your personal play ground, you could make it almost certain that the stranger sitting across the roulette wheel, the one sitting next to you lose, hell you could even make it a 99.99% chance you would win the lottery today if you bought a ticket. However, all the fun of your probability manipulation quirk was the .01% that wasn't in your favor, what was the fun of anything if it was certain, nothing is? Well that was your thought formerly because turns out some things are unavoidable, and they don't have any uncertainty to them.

Somethings you can't control, for example, you couldn't control the fact that your parents arranged a marriage with the up and coming son of the Pro Hero Endeavor. It wasn't even on the basis of your power, frankly all Enji knew was that you had a decent quirk (considering that you were in Shoto's class), and that your parents were also quite frankly "comfortable"(They were filthy rich, and the classic high class privileged folk, who in one word could be described as awful to be around). In the pro hero's eyes you were the perfect fit for Shoto, but oh did his eyes deceive him because he just married his son to an absolute compulsive gambler.

Of course he didn't know about your free-time night-time activities, and neither did your parents. They would be ashamed that they're child wasn't the perfect little host for there high life ambitions that they needed you to be. They didn't even want you to attend hero school, but you found a way to force there hand just like all real tricksters too. Maybe you were a cheater in a way, but is it really cheating if you follow the rules of the game, but just change the odds?

Shoto didn't want to tell you this, but he actually was happy that his father chose you to marry him instead of someone else. Your intelligence really shined through to him, he was very impressed with the way you could navigate through statistics during combat to guaranty your success (even if you yourself don't realize it), and he may or may not have had a crush on you. He thought you were virtually perfect, but he had no idea how wrong he was.

Everyone has their vice's and flaws. Yours was going around to the casino's with the richest, filthiest, horrible people, and changing the odds to legally steal all of their money from them that they didn't deserve. AKA, you made pieces of shit go bankrupt for fun, and by all means was it entertaining to watch their world crumble in front of thier own face. When Uraraka found out she called you the modern day robin hood in excitement, it was a fair analogy, most of the proceeds from your charades go to charities (and helping out your best friends parents with there financial situation), but you can't lie, the other 30% of it goes into your private bank account as a safety so you can gamble more.

The first night Shoto discovered your past time was on an evening in the middle of October, at a masquerade gala to be specific, that everyone there just happened to be gambling too. His heterochromatic eyes shifted to your from, and he knew it was you draining everyone's money at the craps table across the room. He was frozen in his place, the image of you in his head completely re-writing itself in his head with every role of your dice. He knew the experience of teetering on the edge of stability and insanity by the glint in your eyes, but your pokerface displayed the mask of a completely innocent player on a luckly streak, with only the occasional strategic loss planned out by you to not get caught.

He wasn't sure how he felt totally back your compulsiveness towards the risk of losing it all, but he felt connected to the way you wanted yo spite your parents in some way. Especially if they were awful like yours and his. But he couldn't help to be tiniest bit infatuated with the way your eyes glow with passion and excitement when you finally reveal your total flush hand. He now knew the full extent to what your future union might bring, but he was willing to gamble his odds with it for you because often the things that someone wants aren't good for them, and it's what make something all the more enticing.

[stormcrawler75]

oh my gosh!! you've got such an amazing bingo board!!! ok, i'm gonna toss you four squares all with one character - if you'd like, you can count this one ask across multiple fics, or try to double up tropes in one fic, or disregard some of the prompts altogether, whatever works best for you! but i would 100% love to see how you write virgil with 1, healing pod malfunction, 2, came back wrong, 3, truth potion/serum, or 4, i know you're in there somewhere fight?

Warnings: Major Character Death, Necromancy, death.

Characters: Roman Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Remus Sanders, Janus Sanders with Mentions of Patton and Logan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you! How could you do this, Remus!? How?!”

Remus rolled his eyes, accepting a tray from his personal servant. He ignored how his servant kept his eyes on the ground with a pale shaky look to him. “Hey, is it really my fault that Necromancy is super easy to figure out? Janus and I figured it out in less than a month.” He turned and grinned at his older brother, looking uncomfortable and out of place in Remus’ bed chambers. “Get that grumpy look off your face! Look, we fixed everything!”

“Fix-” Roman stormed forward, waving his arms wildly, “Necromancy is banned, Remus! If you weren’t a Prince then you and Janus would be thrown into the dungeon and V-” Roman cut himself off with a pained grimace. “...The person you brought back would be granted a mercy kill. The Nobles Families are already pushing for that to happen and I... I...”

Remus gripped the tray with his and his consorts’ dinner on it tightly, his knuckles turning white. “Finish that fucking sentence,” he hissed, glaring at Roman. “Finish it. I fucking dare you.”

There was a long tense silence where nothing happened except the two brothers staring at each other, one glaring defensively and the other with a pleading look in his eyes. The silence was broken with a low groan from the other occupant of the room. Remus fixed a smile to his face and brushed past Roman, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Sleepyhead. Glad to see you awake!”

Virgil’s eyes slowly opened, his unnatural purple eyes having a tired glaze to them. While his body had been restored exactly to how it had been before his death - no decay and the gaping hole in his stomach gone like it had never been there in the first place - there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. Which he had, of course. He had barely done anything but sleep. “Remus,” he whispered. His voice was so soft and quiet that Remus could barely pick up on it. “Where’s Lo? And Pat? They were just here.”

Remus heard Roman’s breath hitch at the mention of Virgil’s long dead older brothers but didn’t react besides gently smoothing down Virgil’s bangs. “That was just a dream, Stormcloud. Hey, why don’t we have dinner? I got your favourite. Remember the chef’s special pie? I got a whole slice just for you.”

“It tastes like ash,” Virgil whispered. He stared at Remus with eyes that looked devoid of life. “Everything tastes like ash.”

“It’s just a little side effect, Stormy. Janus said that’d your tastebuds would come back soon, I promise,�� Remus vowed, taking Virgil’s shaking hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. He grinned over his shoulder at Roman, ignoring that pale sheen to his brother’s face. “See?! He’s back and as good as new!”

Virgil’s slowly turned to look at Roman, a thin and pained smile spreading across his face. “My King? You did survive. I, I told Logan and Patton I saved you and I did.” he reached out to Roman, the King immediately taking it in his own.

Roman knelt by Virgil’s bed, pressing Virgil’s hand to his cheek. “You did save me,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. “You did and I’m so proud of you. You were the best of my King’s guard. I wrote of your accomplishes and,” his voice trembled and Roman took a shaky breath, “and my people sing songs of your bravery. Virgil the Brave, they call you.”

“The Brave,” Virgil whispered back. His smile widened but it looked wrong, like butter spread over too thinly over bread. “I like that. Patton told me, he told me when he died to be brave.” He blinked in confusion when Roman’s tears started trailing down his cheeks. “My K-King? What’s wrong? Did I, did I upset you?”

Roman laughed wetly and shook his head. “No, no my friend. You didn’t upset me. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You look so tired.” He cupped Virgil’s cheek, looking over him and asked softly, “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” Virgil whispered. He rubbed at his eyes and whispered out, “I’m just so tired.”

“Then perhaps we should leave you to rest, my Dearest.”

Remus and Roman turned to the doorway where Janus, the Court’s Wizard, stood. The scales spreading across his face glittered in the light of the setting light, giving him an otherworldly look. “It’s been a long day for you,” Janus hummed, walking forward and tucking the blankets up to Virgil’s chin. “You had a walk in the gardens in the morning and then you and I read some books. It’s been a productive day.”

Virgil blinked at him slowly and took his hand. “Okay,” he whispered softly. He looked up at Janus and asked softly, “Do you think I’ll see Patton and Logan again in my dreams?”

“I’m sure you will,” Janus hummed, gently kissing Virgil’s cheek. He took Remus’ hand and pulled him up. “You have a good rest, Dearest. We’ll be joining you in just a few minutes after we say goodbye to the King.” He turned and looked at Roman, arching an eyebrow at the tears dripping of Roman’s chin. “My King? Shall we?”

Roman’s jaw trembled and he croaked out, “This isn’t right. This isn’t right, Remus. Janus, you are the Court’s Wizard and you know that this isn’t right. Look at him,” he cried, waving a hand at a confused Virgil. “Is this what you wanted?! He was at rest, who are you to-” He cut himself off as a cold wind blew through the air, blowing off the candles and oil lamp.

Janus stood up straight, glaring at his King with bright golden eyes. “I am his Husband, that’s who I am,” he hissed, his voice echoing with power. “It wasn’t his time, I know this. If it wasn’t for you, then we’d never have to do this in the first place. If you hadn’t needed Virgil to jump in front of you and get-” he cut himself off and looked away, his face softening slightly as he stared at Virgil. “Leave,” he said softly, the power disappearing from his voice. “My Dearests and I will be having a private dinner tonight.”

There was a long, tense silence that was only broken by Virgil whispering, “Why can’t King Roman stay? Patton and Logan are going to be staying.”

“No, Dearest,” Janus said, smiling at him gently with a sad look in his eyes. “No, they won’t be. And the King has things to do. Perhaps tomorrow.” He glanced back at Roman, narrowing his eyes at the still crying King. “King Roman... you’re busy, aren’t you?”

“...Yes,” Roman whispered. He smiled at Virgil sadly, not bothering to wipe away the tears. “I’ll visit with you tomorrow, my friend.” He left with tears still rolling down his face. He closed the door behind him, just as he let out a sob.

How could Remus have done this?

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[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Evanescence: “Guitarists need to be honest. Use your voice. We don’t need fake – we need humanity and real people”

Jen Majura and Troy McLawhorn wax lyrical on the high-octane gear, influences and themes behind the band's upcoming fifth album, The Bitter Truth

The Bitter Truth, the fifth full-length from Evanescence set for release in March 2021, will be their first album of new material in a decade. The American arena group led by singer/keyboardist Amy Lee had already released three singles, though the record’s completion was stalled by the virus pandemic that dominated headlines for much of the year.

The first sessions took place at the beginning of 2020 with rock super producer Nick Raskulinecz [Foo Fighters, Rush, Alice In Chains] in his Nashville studio, spawning the tracks we’ve heard so far – Wasted On You, The Game Is Over and Use My Voice. Then, of course, came Covid, putting an end to safe travel and forcing virtually all plans to change.

For the members in America, it was incredibly problematic. For German guitarist Jen Majura, who joined in 2015, it was an absolute nightmare. Nevertheless, the group kept chiseling away and fleshing out their parts for album number five.

When Guitar World tracks down Majura and co-guitarist Troy McLawhorn towards the end of 2020, things are still very much in the process of being finalized...

Looking back now, that session in Nashville must feel like a very long time ago!

Majura: “Definitely! What hit me so hard was that we’d recorded that first chunk of songs and waved goodbye at the airport, thinking we’d be back in a couple of weeks. And then suddenly this pandemic hit, airports were all shut!

“I had never felt more apart from my friends in the States than since this all started. It’s so unnatural for me not to be there! I’m very old-school – I like my tube amp and 4x12 cabinet. I like to sit in the studio with the humans I’m working with and creating in the moment.

“Being away from Amy and the boys while working on material has felt so unnatural to me, but that’s the we have to do it and we have to make the best out of it. The time we spent with Nick in Nashville was the happiest ever.

“It felt amazing to see these songs coming to life – you have this idea but when you are all in a room creating, things change and become better, you end up trying out different ways. It’s such a vibrant and beautiful way of working. But I get it, there’s this thing called corona, so you know…”

This will be your first album working together on new material. How do you go about splitting guitar parts?

McLawhorn: “Whenever we’re jamming, if someone comes up with up something cool, they play it. There’s no set thing. So far I’ve probably played the majority of the lead guitar – if Jen comes up with something she is always welcome to play whatever it is. It’s a good working relationship. The first batch of songs, the first three that came out, were done in one session before the coronavirus hit. We were all together for those ones.

“But then Jen flew home back to Germany and we were supposed to tour in Europe, but it all got cancelled. Everything we’ve done since then has been without Jen with us, we’ve been kinda flying sessions back and forth. I probably played a lot of the guitar on the album, but she’s been coming up with cool ideas and putting her stamp on it too.”

The Game Is Over definitely feels like the heavier side of Evanescence…

McLawhorn: “There’s a lot of good stuff like that on this one, stuff that people will be surprised by maybe. There’s a fair amount of that aggressive type of music, but it’s a good mixture. So far everyone’s heard the lighter side of the album, like Use My Voice and Wasted On You… but then there’s The Game Is Over. It was a lot of fun to play and there’s more heavy stuff on there too!”

Majura: “That bridge is so heavy, I love it! It’s going back to the real rock roots and having lots of fun. When you have a low-tuned guitar you have to be a bit careful – you can’t just smash your strings but they will warp a bit.

“I remember forcing myself, especially during the bridge, to play gentle even though it had this badass attitude. It took me a couple of takes… the first ones were completely out of tune [laughs]!”

Jen, it must have been a rollercoaster five years for you. How did you end up getting the gig?

Majura: “What happened was that I was playing bass in another band, not really being happy as I’m a guitar player. We happened to play two festivals, one in Germany and one in the Czech Republic. And it turns out Testament were playing the same days as us.

“I’m a huge Alex Skolnick fan, so we ended up talking and keeping in touch. A couple of days later, I got this very mysterious email from him saying, ‘Jen! Some friends of mine are going to contact you and I can’t reveal too much but I think it’s something you should say yes to!’ I was wondering what the hell he was talking about…

“And then a day later, I got this email from Evanescence’s management asking if I would be interested in… and I didn’t even finish reading the email. I just immediately replied ‘Yes!’ and sent it. That was a total no-brainer.

“So this was around July 2015 and the next evening I was on the phone with Amy talking. She invited me to come visit her in New York and hang out. I thought, ‘Okay… cool!’ and three days later I was on a plane flying to fuckin’ New York wondering if this was really happening. It was insane.”

Did you bring your guitar?

Majura: “I didn’t! I asked her if I needed to bring one and she said, ‘Nah, I know you can play, I’ve seen plenty of videos – let’s just hang out!’ And that’s exactly what we did for the next three days. Hanging out, long walks and talks, going out for dinner or to a concert. Becoming friends and getting to know each other on a more human relationship kind of base.

“I realize now that’s the biggest deal when you have to replace a member. A band is a family. I’d like to quote Rob Zombie on that, because he said it in the movie Hired Gun!

“Finding a good player is the easy part – the world is full of virtuosos. You also need someone who can commit to touring, being on the road and that whole lifestyle. The third and last thing, also the toughest, is that you need people you can stand hanging out with 24/7.

“Concerts are only 90 minutes – what about all the other hours in the day? You need to all fit together. Within those first few days with Amy, I realized we both had a strong work ethic and know exactly what we want, which is beautiful.

“She’s a very strong character. I appreciate her musicality and personality too, she quickly became one of my best friends because we laughed about the same things and then figured out we both love Sex and the City [laugh]! I am so grateful and thankful to have experienced everything I have with her and the boys.”

Troy, you’ve been a member of Seether and filled in for Sevendust on some tours, but you’ve been an on/off member of Evanescence for over a decade now…

McLawhorn: “Yeah, to be honest, I never really left Evanescence. We have big breaks between albums. When I did my first tour with the band, Amy told me she was taking a long break, probably around four or five years. I just went out to find something to do in the meantime and ended up playing in Seether for a few years…

“When it was time for me to leave, it coincided with Amy being ready to do another album. And it was a huge coincidence. I ended up in New York and went to Amy’s house. I was having trouble in Seether and wasn’t happy there, and she said she’d love me to come work on the new album. That’s how it all went down.

“There seems to be some pretty long breaks in between albums with this band but I think that’s part of Amy’s creative process. She likes to take her time when she’s writing the lyrics. The final product always turns out really nice that way, so why mess with it?”

What can you tell us about the gear responsible for the guitar sounds on this album?

Majura: “I signed up with Synergy Amps in November last year. When I joined, I think Steve Vai was the only big name working with them, but I figured if it’s Steve Vai it’s gotta be fucking great. So I went over to check their amp out and I was very skeptical. It looks like a tube amp but with all these holes and parts missing!

“But I plugged in, hit one chord and realized it was actually phenomenal. They’ve sent all the different modules to me, like the Diezel, and the perfect solution for me was the Friedman HBE. It has the perfect rock and roll sound for my solos but it also has the mighty depth of high-gain stuff too – which are all frequencies you need for Evanescence.

“I was originally expecting I’d go with the Diezel one, but the Friedman felt more right for me. I’m very open-minded when it comes to technology. You have two modules, each with two channels, so you get a four-channel amp made out of your favorites.

“For example, I could combine a Vox AC30 Brian May sound with a Diezel VH4. It’s phenomenal what they’ve managed to open up for us musicians in terms of sound options. It’s been my tour rig and studio rig ever since.”

McLawhorn: “I used a combination of different things on this album. On The Game Is Over, it was basically my live setup which is an Orange Rockerverb 100, with an analog pedalboard.

“A big part of the tone I get from the amp comes down to a 10-band EQ I use to boost the mids on the lead channel. That’s about it – I don’t really use overdrive pedals or anything like that and probably use less gain than most modern guitarists. I almost use EQ to find a modern sound, instead of more gain.

“I also have a Fractal Axe-Fx III, which I’ve used here and there on the album, especially for clean parts – it’s really good for that. I’ve done some overdubs with the II as well, stuff that has a lot of effects or sounds really wet – Axe-Fx is great for that, too. I also have a 1969 Marshall Superbass 100 which we split with a Bogner Ecstasy or Uberschall, and used for the rhythm tracks on a couple of songs.”

And how about for guitars?

Majura: “I’ve been with Ibanez for many years now and I’m very happy. They deliver the most perfect instruments. You pick up an instrument and either like it or not. Some of them seem to instantly merge with your system – you become one – and that is true of most Ibanez guitars, at least for me.

“Of course I’ve played Les Pauls and other things, but they’re really not my style. I have so many Ibanez guitars now. I think the AZ series was such a smart move – the family is even bigger and better now… Look at players like Tim Henson, who is just amazing. He makes me feel so old. He’ll be nailing it and I’m at home just playing along to AC/DC or something!

“For pedals, I stick with the Line 6 Helix pedalboard because I remember at my first rehearsal in 2015, they would tell me certain parts would need a chorus or flanger or this or that. At the end of the rehearsal I had a battery of pedals in front of me and realized I couldn’t do it. I’ve never been a pedal dancer. I went to Line 6 asking for a solution and they were just about to come out with the Helix… it was perfect.”

McLawhorn: “I was using a baritone PRS SE. I changed the pickups out, but that’s it – I love the guitar and how it plays. I tried a few different sets, most by Seymour Duncan. One of my seven-strings has a Seymour that my tech put in on the road and I don’t know which one it is! He just found it in my guitar coffin and asked if we should throw it in. It stayed for the rest of the tour – it was probably a JB, who knows!

“But the one on the record is the Distortion (SH-6). I really like how they sound. At first, they were a little hot for what I like – I tend to prefer somewhere in between modern metal and classic rock. It felt like really high gain, way too much, especially when switching from my other guitars. But he really lowered the pickup down and that fixed everything, making everything super-tight and adding some nice mids.”

Use My Voice has a really powerful message behind it…

Majura: “Yes! Another thing that connects me and Amy very strongly is that we both went through moments in our careers where males would tell us, ‘You’re just a girl – what do you know?’ It’s time for strong women – in rock or wherever – to stand up and say being good at a craft has nothing to do with gender. It’s been happening for way too long.

“That feeling of our voices being suppressed needs to change, because every voice matters. We’re all the same. It does not matter if you are male or female or transgender… humans are humans. I think we should spend more time understanding why we’re the same. Use My Voice is an important message for women to stand up and be heard.”

Where do you think your influences differ as guitar players?

Majura: “The first guitar hero I had at around 10 or 11 was Steve Vai. He was so revolutionary in terms of what he’s done for the guitar world, both sound-wise and crafts-wise. Electric guitar wouldn’t be what it is today without Steve Vai.

“I respect him so much for how he feels and talks through his instrument. He’s influenced my thinking about a lot of things. He’s an amazing person, not just an amazing musician.

“Then I got into Nuno Bettencourt, who plays for the sake of the song instead of showing off. Which is what I tried to do on my first solo album, Inzenity, everyone expected a shred album and it wasn’t. I played for the song. If it didn’t require a guitar solo then fine, I’d just leave it. I didn’t need to prove to the world how good I was.

“Nuno also has the percussive style of playing, which brings this tone that I really like. And finally, Angus Young. I’ve been playing in an AC/DC tribute band for four years and I love his playing.”

McLawhorn: “A lot of them for me were the classic players while I was growing up. So Ace Frehley for sure… KISS were like Slipknot for us who grew up in the '70s [laughs]! Then there’s Jimmy Page and Jimi Hendrix. Tony Iommi as well, he was a massive influence on me as a kid.

“Eddie Van Halen was a huge influence on me, too – it was very sad that we lost him so early and so young. When Van Halen came out, I started taking guitar very seriously. The bluesy side of his playing always appealed to me but he also had all that technical prowess, too. A very inspiring guitar player for so many people.”

What advice can you offer anyone out there hoping to become a good session player?

McLawhorn: “You need to know how to communicate with people. I’ve done sessions with some Nashville guys that have this shorthand way of writing music. Reading music and knowing theory is always important… I wish I knew more myself.

“It puts you at ease walking into a session knowing you read and play anything back. I can’t really do that – I just really really listen and learn things by memory. I can read some music but that’s going back to trumpet at high school [laughs]. So I rely on communication always!”

Majura: “I think guitar players need to be honest. Use your voice. Be real. Be pure. We don’t need fake, we need humanity and real people. What I love about people like Mattias IA Eklundh is he’s just himself. He’s pure and innovative in a really interesting way.

“I’ve gotten to know guys like him, Guthrie Govan, Richie Kotzen and Jeff Waters – they’re all awesome and very honest players. I think one should never think one has seen it all and learned it all.

“We need to keep in mind we’re all on a journey in search of becoming better. In terms of advice, I always have to say being open to different styles is so important. There’s something to learn every day. You should never stop trying to improve to make the world a better place. You should never stop learning… that’s what makes you human.”

[missabnormal]

Alright, so I watched Wonder Woman 1984...

[MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT]

So, in no particular order:

1) I get where Jenkins and the writers are coming from: they needed a lot of time to develop the characters--establish their stories and their personal lives, especially where they are at emotionally. I just think they needed to find a better balance between the action and that development. That is to say, I think the movie suffers from the 2014 Godzilla movie problem, in which it took a hell of a long time to get to the action parts in a movie that was marketed as showcasing a lot of action. 

It’s... agh, I’m conflicted, but I’m leaning towards there should have been more action. It just needed better balance of it all, even when Diana doesn’t have her powers. After the first movie had a (mostly) nice balance of action and development (for plot and characters)--and frankly better action--it’s hard to then see this movie and not see... less.

I also feel like the movie thought because it was taking place in the 1980s, it needed the nostalgic tone to it; that is, it’s weird for Diana to be, at her final scene with Max to be talking about how beautiful the world already was without the lies that the wishes create, but I feel like she would know that the world wasn’t... that. We’re at the height of the Cold War and the nuclear arms race, racism is still rampant, the President (not sure if he was supposed to be Reagan or an analogy to him) in real-world history was defunding a lot of things including mental health treatment, and so on. The movie definitely establishes the Cold War, the conflicts in the Middle East, and at least anti-Irish sentiment from the English, but it all feels... not quite surface-level, but also not quite explored in depth. I don’t know, did Jenkins/the writers just not want to explore the same themes as the first movie? Maybe they thought it would be too similar? It could be, but... there could have been better ways of handling it, you know?

Of course, there was also the topic of racism with Max. Let me tell you, Max’s arc in this movie was so far and beyond what I expected. I thought, from the interviews from the cast and crew, that the movie was going to go full on Max-as-Trump-analogy. To show him as a Latin American immigrant who suffered from racism and poverty is a lot to adjust to. I like JLI Max Lord, but he was also the epitome of born-wealthy white man corporate capitalist privilege--he just had the opportunity to be fully developed by DeMatteis and Griffin as a character and not just be left as a cardboard cutout and personification of 1980s corporate America. 

Also, Max’s development is reminiscent to who he was in the very early days of the JLI, in terms of goals and--at the end of the day--care for like... not destroying the world and all that. The difference is that instead of an alien computer manipulating him (to an extent), the movie had Max use a wishing-stone. Also, he has a son for whom he cares about which, again, I was not expecting.

2) It feels bizarre and so wrong that neither Diana nor Steve asked themselves 1) why Steve reappeared in some random 1980s guy’s body instead of appearing as himself, 2) the moral/ethical questions of Steve inhabiting random guy’s body without consent and just doing whatever with it (especially after it’s implied that Diana and Steve had sex, which HELLO??? That’s not his body???). Like, it’s the kind of plot point that would probably happen in an actual ‘80s movie, no questions asked, but just because the movie is taking place in the 1980s doesn’t mean it should have the same values as the ‘80s. Like, it feels like the ��trick” of the wish should have been Steve taking this random guy’s body and life and not just Diana’s powers. 

Anyway, how the movie handled this particular aspect of the plot is all kinds of wrong and baffling to see it coming from a Wonder Woman movie in the year 2020.

3) Flying aircraft from the 1910s would be drastically different from aircraft from the 1940s and on. Pretty hard to believe that Steve would just know how to fly a future military airplane without even a few pointers. 

4) The movie has a tendency of randomly showing objects or characters when it’s convenient instead of actually establishing them in a cohesive manner within the narrative. For example, the Eagle Armor appears just when its convenient to talk about it. The movie could have established sometime in the first act of the movie; i.e. it could have, say, had used the dinner scene to show Barbara asking Diana something like “What made you pursue anthropology?” and Diana answering with a “Oh, I wanted to explore my Greek ancestry” and then shown a brief moment when Diana is at her apartment of her checking the monitors and a brief panning over the ~mysterious~ object under the sheets. 

Another example is Diana using invisibility powers on the jet. I could have lived without an invisible jet in the movie, but if it was gun-to-the-head-there-MUST-be-an-invisible-jet, then I would have tried to also establish those powers before hand. For example, the movie could have shown Diana casually practicing using her powers on random objects once or twice before having her use them on the jet. That way, viewers could have understood that this power is a thing that actually exists within the movie and not just something that comes up when its convenient. 

5) It feels like Diana didn’t get as much development in this movie as in the last one. If anything, it feels like a lot of it was given to Max and Barbara, which on one hand I understand because they are new characters within the DCEU; but on the other hand, it’s supposed to be a Wonder Woman movie with the central character being Diana. She and Steve did have many scenes together, but the Max and Barbara scenes outshone theirs. 

6) Barbara... well, she borderline falls into the “powerful woman becomes evil” trope that is saved from falling into it full-on by the wishes having traps to them. However, things get complicated, narrative-wise, after Diana makes her speech about the world already being beautiful and all that. Sure, in terms of Barbara herself, she was already a kind, if awkward woman; but her coworkers and random men were shitty to her. They treated her like she barely existed, taunted her or attempted to assault her. Barbara became power-hungry, sure, but are the other people who had been shitty to her not wrong, too? There’s something fundamentally wrong with how society treats certain people (like how white Americans treated young Max Lord, or how that English woman treated the Irish man) and the movie can’t show it and then not address it in-depth, especially when the suffering that people have gone through is what lead many of them to make rash wishes (although, to be fair, the grand majority of them didn’t know what the wishes actually entailed). 

The movie doesn’t say if after everyone renounced their wishes everything became better or just went back to how things were. Although this movie is vaguely within the DCEU, it is still in it, to it’s fair to say that the world didn’t become better after people realized the destruction they were bringing upon the world with their wishes. However, to then say that everything went back to how things were is not a good ending, either. Does Barbara have to suffer through people’s indifference to her, if not outright assault, again? Is the Cold War and the threat of a nuclear apocalypse still going to continue? Are Irish people going to continue to suffer through discriminatory English sentiments towards them? Is unchecked exploitative corporate America just going to continue existing, especially those that deal with oil? Are people just going to continue to be racist? Because here’s the thing: Max may have said “life is good, but it can be better” but of course things weren’t great and the movie taps into that; yet, it’s just that, tapping into it. It presents the problems, but it doesn’t present the solution. If it’s not wishes, then what? Because going back to how things were is, you know, not great. 

Any story that presents the existence of complex conflicts has the responsibility of dealing with those in a satisfying way, and I’ve seen many stories that want to be complex, but don’t want to give it a complex solution. No story, or movie, is perfect (and none will ever be), but WW84 could have at least tried a bit more. 

7) I don’t mind Diana grieving so much over Steve, but her reluctance to renounce her wish to regain her powers could have been better handled, along with her grief. The movie briefly established that pretty much everyone she met in the first movie (except maybe Chief?) is dead. Yet, it’s so brief compared to the rest of the movie. To truly understand the depth of Diana’s desperation to keep Steve alive, the movie could have emphasized how pretty much everyone she ever cared about--on an interpersonal level--is dead or on an island that she can never return to. She’s not only alone in terms of romance, she’s alone in almost every emotionally conceivable way. And as time passes, she will remain young, but all the people she meets will grow old and die around her. The movie could have emphasized how Diana is emotionally clinging to those people she met when she first arrived in Man’s World and she can’t take being emotionally close to others again because she fears it will be too painful to see these new people die around her. It’s doubly hard when Diana also loves humanity: she wants to help them in any way she can, but that also means she can never separate herself from them. It’s love and pain interwoven, but the truth is that’s life. You lose people and doors close on you, but others open and new people come through. Everyone wishes to have everything they ever wanted, but part of being human is learning what that “everything” actually means to one’s personal life. 

The movie could have tried of uniting these ideas: Diana’s grief over Steve, Diana’s loneliness, Diana’s love for the world, the state of the world in the 1980s, human desire and fallacy, what it means to truly love and be loved, and what is it that we can do with our lives, and that of others, in an imperfect world. I can almost see some of these ideas floating on air throughout the movie, but they’re just that: floating, not quite coming together in a cohesive manner; a draft that never got that final and needed revision. 

*I might have missed a few things to talk about, but this is what comes to mind for now. 

[darrowsrising]

Come here to be a howler for a moment. The whole feminist anti Virginia thing is really pissing me off today. Please go off about our Queen. Favourite Mustang moments from both trilogies please

To be anti Virginia is feminist now? The guts some people have! Ew, if any anti who wank their ego by saying they're feminist sees this post please be good trash and take yourself out 🤮🤮🤮.

Virginia au Augustus is one of the most brilliantly written female characters of all time. Actually, I'll argue that Pierce Brown - yes, a white, straight, cis gender man - writes better female characters than some female authors that are in high demand currently. And he deserves no praise for it - every writer should be able to flesh out female characters.

Honestly, I am sick of radicalists who just want to be upset about something. Instead of playing offended, how about you go support N.K. Jemisin or other brilliant female authors, maybe you can learn a thing or two from her.

Getting back to the absolute queen, the absolute goddess that Virginia au Augustus is:

She was the only one at the Institute who understood Darrow's analogies - he accused her of caring about the victims only because they were Gold, if they were Red, she wouldn't blink. But she did blink. She was never confronted like this, though and that took her by surprise, but she is the only Gold at the Institute to admit to the wrongness of it all no matter the Color. I know the bar is low, but it is a glimpse into how Virginia actually is - in a Society that allowes Golds to be monsters led by greed.

She is the smartest person in the room, but she doesn't always win, which I love, because while she likes winning, she is not an 'at all costs' kind of person. She is an intelligent leader - House Minerva is the most organized and the most thriving House. It showed that she is a great leader, but not necessarily the best military strategist. But she was not mad at all when Darrow conquered her House. She actually tipped her hat to him so to speak.

She retreated to rethink her strategy, but what I think surprised her and made her stick around Darrow was that even though he wants to win at all costs, he wouldn't risk her and her safety. I think she saw a kindred spirit - whatever his reason are for winning, they are more than what Society wants to make of them.

Once Darrow sees her strategy, they both proceed to implementing it - she tried on her own and failed. That little hand analogy is more than the basis for the Reaper's Army - later we will see it's an analogy for the world they should build.

Virginia au Augustus has been raised in the gardens Augustus mansions on Mars by both Kavax and Niobe, but also by Nero. Darrow is right - she is an ocean - beautiful and bright and scary and mysterious as fuck. She was raised to win, to conqueror, to bring pride to the Augustus name. Her loyalties lay with her loved ones first and foremost, always did, always will. Darrow's year at the Institute was about 6 months and she humilliated her brother, betrayed him, discarded her ties to her House that have been there all her life for what she and Darrow built. Because for her, it was worth it.

Her stint in that room on Olympus - I see it now as an analogy for her life. She has been priviledged - born into the most powerful House on Mars, albeit a tad shorter than average, she is pure Gold, beautiful like you would expect from a Gold, obvioudly rich, given that daddy owns Mars, declared a genius at a young age and helped to nurture that through more than just books, experiences too. Yet she raged in that room, refused to be kept inside, tried to break her way out, even tried to jump out of the freaking floating castle. She refused to help her deranged brother, she refused to cooperate with the people Nero had under his thumb, even though she was only going to gain from them. She wants to use her privilege to make things better - now, we all know, and she comes to understand that too, that reforms are band aids on bullet wounds in the Society - but she is the only Gold up to do that.

She learns quite fast that you must break so you can rebuilt. Her statement in MS underlines once again that the peace she was trying to make with Octavia was a desperate move, an assurance plan, because she was losing and she knew what Octavia did to losers. With Darrow onsidered dead and Sevro ignoring her, she felt alone and connered.

Of course, she has her not so pretty sides. Her family doesn't deserve it at all, yet she would go to hell and back to protect them. Even use people for her own aims.

She always paced herself, always refused to give in to the sort of fear-inducing anger that Sevro and Darrow are famous for. But she is still very much a force to be reckoned with - she just has her way of doing things - like the Iron Circle - the biggest balls in the Solar System belong to Virginia the Lionheart.

The reason she paced herself is to make demokracy work - and demokracy needs validity - no matter jow hard things get she has been a constant, she walked that stiletto at all times and never faltered.

She loves so very much, it breaks her when she has to choose between her loved ones and her duty. By the way, the fact that she is not family, duty, honour (in that order) is AMAZING.

Her friendships in the series are great - from House Telemanus to Theodora, Holiday and Sevro.

The way she and Darrow love each other - even when they do not see eye to eye, they respect each other, protect each other, look out for each other. Pierce Brown has managed to make the most amazing love story - no possessive bullshit, no cringey sex scenes, just beautiful and intense love. They have passion and affection without being gross, they can do their work without getting distracted by the other, they are supportive of each other.

Let's talk the Iron Circle scene - she was devastated for failing to save her loved ones. Yet the fires in the shape of a slingBlade and the people's loud love for her - Virginia the Lionheart, Sovereign of the Solar Republic, Sovereign of Mars - she never felt that. She always led with her mind, she always did what was right, she never felt the heart of the people and always second guessed herself because of that. But they do love her, and she felt it. And she started to hear the people's heartbeat too. And that was amazing.

Virginia hates being vulnerable, yet she showed vulnerability to her loved ones. And her heart to heart with Victra? PERFECTION.

About her being trampled and stripped by the mob (she wasn't stripped naked, under her pants and tunic, she always wears underwear, duh), I understand a lot of butthurt haters wanked this as reason to hate Dark Age. Well, sorry, but not only it was meant to a punishment from Adrius for her betrayal in RR, but it wasn't treated differently from how Darrow was assaulted (omce in GS when he was bathing naked, once in DA when Atlas ordered death by gangr*pe). The writer isn't there to make you confortable, they are there to tell a story - you get butthurt easily, don't read Adult Sci-Fi

Virginia is amazing, I want to be her when I grow up 😍😭💖. This list is not exhaustive in the least, she is that amazing.

Howl on!

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Secret Siren

Words: 3,459

Ships: Platonic LAMP, background pining analogical, mentioned background Remile

First fic of 2020! This is Part 2 of the Building Bridges Arc, so I suggest reading part 1 here. 

Warnings: Mentions of Deceit, mentions of Remus, teasing about crushes, jealousy, insecurity, lying, as I am not genderflux the description of it ended up sounding rather Textbook-y so I would like to apologize to any genderflux readers in advance

WCBI Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @madly-handsome @strickenwithclairvoyance @limitededitionsanderssidesblog @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @ab-artist @sometimeswritingsometimesdying @because-were-fam-ily @gattonero17 @analogical-mess @joaniejustwokeup @whycantihavemorethan32characters @viva-la-pluto-dam-you

---

Roman wasn’t at Logan’s very much. Logan very rarely had guests over in the first place, but somehow that made days like these a little more special.

It seemed like a perfect recipe for stress, but days just sitting in Logan’s room and watching the sky were the most relaxed he ever felt. It was a side of Logan only he and Virgil got to see. He was laying across his bed, bundled up in a NASA hoodie and tossing a pink rubble ball up into the air on loop. He seemed to not notice Roman sketching him as they listened to music on Logan’s old CD player.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t just get a Bluetooth speaker,” Roman teased as if he hadn’t heard the answer a million times.

“Your lack of comprehension disappoints me, Roman. Truly, I am saddened by this.”

“Holy shit!” Roman gasped. “Logan Zander Hamilton has feelings?! Are pigs flying too?!”

“Thanks for the heart attack, asshole,” Logan said, chucking the rubble ball at Roman who caught it without flinching. “You are, by far, the worst of my close friends.”

“Aww, you said we’re close friends,” he teased. “Can’t believe I'm worse than Remy though.”

“Remy is only a close friend when he isn’t being an asshole.”

“But he’s always being an asshole.”

“Exactly.”

Roman smirked and tossed the rubber ball back to Logan. “So what’s the rundown?”

“Rundown?”

“The list. Come on, you can’t tell me you have a ranking of your close friends and not tell me the ranking.”

“It starts with Virgil and the more you push this the lower you get,” Logan said.

“Aww. Where’s Narcissa?”

“Number four.”

“Patton?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Having powers does not constitute friendship.”

“That’s harsh,” Roman said. “Toss me the ball back, would ya?”

Logan tossed lower than Roman’s hands and smirked as the force smacked straight into his stomach. “I just... I don’t trust him, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t seem too wary of him at Emile’s party. Hell, you even sat next to him!”

“Falsehood, I was simply looking out for his best interest regarding Seth. That doesn’t mean I trust him any more than the one-eyed little cretin.”

“Nice Monsters Inc. reference.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“Aww, for me?”

Logan cleared his throat. “Nonetheless, I think we just need to be more careful with our trust. We still don’t know what he’s capable of with his powers.”

“We don’t know what Virgil is capable of either. Plus, Patton’s powers already put him in the emergency room quite preposterously.”

“Never put that much alliteration into a statement ever again,” Logan said. “And of course we can trust Virgil, we’ve known him for years.”

“My point,” Roman corrected, “isn’t that we shouldn’t trust Virgil. My point is that we should give Patton a chance.”

“You’d almost think you have a crush.”

“A squish! No- I- I mean, there’s nothing, but you know crushes aren’t my thing.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Not this easily at least.”

“Because of your crush on Virgil?”

“You bitch!” Roman yelled, laughing as he smacked Logan with a pillow. “I’m over it, I swear. And the bigger issue here is your crush on Virgil and don’t you dare try to deny this you two are one heartwarming conversation away from becoming the next Remy and Emile.”

Logan turned bright red. “You honestly believe that Virgil would-” He hid his face in his hands. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m saying if he could open his fucking eyes and get it through his thick skull that you’re gayer than the crowd of a My Chemical Romance concert than maybe he’d actually try to ask you out.”

Logan slowly looked up from his hands. “He- What?”

“If you’re honestly surprised he’s into you, then-”

“No, no, that actually makes sense. He thinks I’m straight?!”

Roman sighed. “We’ve been trying to tell him.”

“Smart enough to make honors but not enough to realize I’m gay. Wow. This is very troubling, Roman. Am I- dare I ask- Am I not gay enough?”

Roman laughed. “Could be gayer.”

“I’m going to have to write ‘raging homosexual’ on my forehead, aren’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. Don’t worry, I’ll write ‘enraged  aroace’ on mine so we’re even.”

Logan laughed and something seemed to radiate from him. When he opened his eyes they were a perfect reflection of the night sky. He was able to blink this away but it still managed to cause a sinking feeling in Roman’s gut.

Magic.

Of course...

+

It was impressive, to say the least, watching Virgil work. They were deep within the forest as Virgil ran amuck and Roman sat against a rock with his umbrella on one side of him and his sketchbook in his lap.

“Okay, okay!” Virgil yelled excitedly. “Get your umbrella ready, I’m going to make it rain.” Electricity sparked from his hands and surrounded him.

“I highly doubt that,” Roman teased, opening his umbrella. “Unless you mean cash-wise because I’m willing. I’m even willing to strip for you if you pay me. I’m a broke bitch, Virgil. Give me your money.”

“Shut up,” Virgil laughed. “You’ll break my concentration.”

He ran past Roman, jumping into the air and landing in a superhero pose that had clearly been rehearsed. With a loud crack of thunder, it did, indeed, begin to rain and Roman raced to sketch Virgil as quickly as he could before his subject moved.

“Well,” he muttered to himself. “At least I’m faster at drawing now.”

“You okay?” Virgil asked, sitting down next to him. The rain hadn’t been strong, and it was already starting to clear up, but it was just enough to wet his face and cause his shirt to cling to his muscles.

“I’m fine it’s just... I don’t know. I’ve been thinking. Bad thinking.”

“Phone a friend or call a national helpline?”

“Phone a friend,” Roman said. Virgil visibly relaxed. “Specifically some magical superhuman friends.”

“Still worried about your powers?”

Roman sighed. “I just... you have that cool shit you just did! With the lightning and rain, and Logan is starting to develop his powers too. Even Patton, we may not entirely know what his powers are but he has them!”

“Maybe it’s like puberty.”

“This is not like puberty. I haven’t been able to do anything since the cave and just- I can’t stop thinking about if something happens. What if someone is in danger and we all need to help them? I’d be completely useless to you!”

“Roman, you’re never useless to us. And nothing is going to happen.”

“How can you be so sure, Virgil?” He looked down and whispered, “What if someone goes missing?”

“That’s a very Logan thing of you to say,” Virgil teased, bumping into him. Roman leaned his head on his shoulder.

“We don’t know what’s going to happen. There could be anything out there.” He sighed. “And I want to help if it does.”

“You’ll get your powers, Roman, and I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

“You’re a good friend, Virgil.”

“Only because you’re a good friend in return.”

And so, they sat there, leaning against each other as the rain fell softly around them. It was calm, watching the rebirth of nature, as the deepest of Roman’s anxieties buried themselves away, giving him a break- even just for the time being.

+

Roman had gotten used to being at Patton’s house pretty often. Dot and Larry had seemed to warm up to him (and since Patton started seeing Seth, Larry seemed more trusting of Roman). “Happy New Year, Mrs. Hart,” Roman greeted with a smile.

“Oh, Roman, you can call me Dot.”

“No, I don’t think I can, Mrs. Hart,” he said, still smiling.

“Oh, very well, will you be staying for dinner tonight?” Dot asked.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family time and-”

“Nonsense!” Larry laughed as he passed through. He leaned towards Roman and stage whispered, “You’re one of Patton’s better friends anyway.”

“Larry!” Dot scolded as Roman blushed in embarrassment. “What my husband means is that you’re always welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

“Mom, are you embarrassing my friend?” Patton asked as he came down the stairs, he wore a baggy sweatshirt and gym shorts and his hair was messy as if he had just woken up.

“Patton, you need to look presentable for company!”

“He’s seen me look way worse,” Patton justified.

“I’ve seen Logan look worse, which I think is way more important.”

“Go get changed,” Dot said.

“Fiiine,” Patton groaned, quickly running up the stairs. Roman couldn’t help but laugh at how their sweet and gentle Patton could so easily turn into the human version of a lemon.

“I’m sorry about him, he’s just been so off lately.”

“Every teenager is during the break, Mrs. Hart. You turn nocturnal. I’m sure he’s just making up for being awake past four A.M or something.”

Dot sighed. “I suppose you’re right. And I suppose you should also tell your mother you’re staying here for dinner.”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed. “You’ve twisted my arm. I’ll go call her.” He stepped aside from the kitchen and sent out a quick text. He knew his parents didn’t care, but he still felt bad about lying to Dot.

He looked up as he heard a thump down the stairs. Patton was standing in front of him, hair-styled meticulously with a white and blue floral button-down tucked into a pair of lightly ripped jeans with cat socks on. Somehow, even his glasses looked perfect.

“You clean up nicely,” he said.

Patton rolled his eyes but held a tiny sliver of a smile. “Whatever, my mom just worries about ‘presentation’ all the time. You don’t have to play along.”

“No, I mean it,” he said. “You, uh, look really nice.”

Patton laughed. “Well, thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” Roman blushed as they headed up to Patton’s room. “I’ll warn you, it’s a bit messy. I’ve been trying to reorganize but, well, you know how it is.”

“Can’t be worse than Remy’s,” Roman shuddered. “We never ask why it’s messy. Not after the incident with Dad’s car.”

“Cool, so, uh, remind me to never go to Remy’s house ever again.” He opened the door and carefully toed boxes away, clearing a path to his bed. “New decade, new me.”

“So what are your resolutions?” Roman asked, moving a pile of clothes out of his way.

“I’ve never been one for resolutions, they’re so overwhelming and discouraging when you mess up,” Patton explained. “I just try to be me, you know. Every day is an opportunity to grow and be better. To move on from the past. I don’t need a calendar to tell me when to grow up.”

“That’s a very admirable ideology, Patton,” Roman said. “My goal is to just be even gayer.”

Patton laughed as he moved away unfolded clothes and miscellaneous stuffed animals. “That’s a good goal to chase.”

“Indeed it is, but I think you called me here for more than just resolutions,” Roman said, waving Patton’s notebook in the air.

Patton took the notebook and grabbed a pen. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, this just means you owe me a movie date,” he teased. “No superhero movies, though. I think we need a break from superhero stuff.”

“A movie date,” Patton laughed, flipping through his notebook. “I don’t think Seth would like it very much if we called it that.”

“Then we can go on our movie date and Seth can continue being the human version of Avengers: Endgame.”

“Endgame was good,” Patton said weakly. He looked away from Roman’s stare. “Okay, fine, it wasn’t. But that’s not the point. The point is that we’re trying to figure out who this mysterious victim is.”

Roman’s stomach dropped like an apple from a tree. “So, we’re sure this is going to happen?”

“We’re being prepared in case it does,” he said, scribbling names quickly. “I still can’t differentiate past from future in these dreams but... I think this might be both.”

“Both?”

“He’s taken Remus before. Or done something to him. The name Moira comes up a lot, I think that might be the name of the woman from the club.”

Roman grabbed his sketchbook and held his hand out. Patton tossed the pen at him. As he quickly scribbled, he thought aloud, “Was Moira a random woman in a club? Or was she Morality?”

“Morality is a girl?” Patton asked. “That would explain some of the dreams, but when we met he- she? They?”

“I don’t think he’s a girl now,” Roman said. “She’s definitely not cis.”

“Too bad we can’t just ask.”

“Morality doesn’t talk to you?” Roman asked. “Sometimes I wish Remus would shut up.”

“Maybe that’s your power,” Patton teased. He made a grabby hand towards Roman for the pen. “Thank yooouuu.”

“That’s a lame power,” Roman said. “Plus I’m pretty sure Logan does that weird meditative thing with Knowledge.”

“Too bad there’s not a way we can all talk to the spirits and figure this out. Wait-” He scribbled something quickly just off from the chart he had been working on. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“So who’s getting kidnapped?”

“I’ve seen Logan in the hallways of where I believe our victim is getting kidnapped. It’s not him.”

“Okay, good to know.”

“You’re always with me whenever I see the missing poster. And everyone else I’ve only seen at the party, which had nothing to do with that man.”

“So it’s not Logan and not me,” Roman said. “There’s a lot of people that aren’t me or Logan.”

“I haven’t seen Virgil in any dreams,” Patton said. “Do you think it’s him?”

“No, no, it can’t be. He’s super powerful when he’s just dicking around in his backyard. In danger? I don’t believe he’s our victim.”

“Okay,” Patton sighed. “Okay. We still don’t have much to work with.”

“We have time, right?”

“I hope so.”

“Time for what?” Dot asked in the doorway.

“Studying!” Patton lied. “Yeah, uh, we’re studying for, um-”

“Patton has Mrs. Green for chemistry,” Roman said. “And her class is the absolute worst. Luckily for him, I had her back in my sophomore year so I’m helping him study.”

“Aw well isn’t that nice,” Dot cooed. “Dinner is almost ready so you boys might want to start heading down.”

“Sounds great, Mom. But you should head down now, I smell burning.”

Something shone in Dot’s eyes. “Oh dear, I smell it too! Hurry down boys!”

“You’re a shit liar,” Roman said. “I hope you know that. I’ve literally never seen anyone as bad at lying as you are. You’re so bad.”

“Okay, okay, whatever. I don’t feel comfortable lying.”

Roman reached out to cup Patton’s cheek. He stiffened up but made no move to get away. Roman brushed his thumb across the skin under Patton’s eye. “Interesting...”

“What are you doing?”

“Your face turns pink when your powers work, well, part of it does. It’s like the night you first, you know.”

“I still don’t know how to get rid of it! Dinner will be ready any second now, what do I do?!”

“Relax,” Roman said, pulling something out of his bag. “This was too light for me, but I think it can work for you.” He opened a small thing of concealer and put some on his finger. “Hold still.” He leaned forward, gently applying the concealer and fully aware of Patton’s breath against his face. He silently prayed that neither of the Hart parents walked in.

He leaned back, ignoring the blush on Patton’s face. “That should work. Keep this in your blog in case something ever happens at school.”

“You think something like this will happen at school?”

“No, but it’s still better to be precautious. Now let’s go get some food, I’m starving.”

+

Roman had begun to spend a lot of his free time in the art room. He’d eat his lunch in a hurry, if he even ate at all, and quickly head over with his sketchbook in hand. It was nice to have a quiet space with just his earbuds and his art supplies.

Mostly quiet.

The earbuds hadn’t granted him silence for very long.

“She’s pretty,” EJ commented. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. You’re very talented though, who is she?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Roman answered.

“So, like a mystery woman?”

“More like a design I’m working on.” He flipped to a new page. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I guess not. I’ve never seen you around here before. Typically no one I know comes in here.”

“I’ve been a bit more motivated these past few weeks.”

“With mystery women?”

“You could say that,” he said. “I like your bracelet.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” EJ said, fiddling with the orange beads that spelled out “THEY-THEM”. “Not too many people notice it.”

“Are you fluid?”

“No, but I am non-binary,” they said. “I’m a demigirl but I’m also genderflux, which just means that how strongly I feel my gender changes. Sometimes I feel very strongly like a girl, other times I hardly feel like one at all.”

“So the pronoun bracelets.”

“When I don’t feel like a girl, she/her just feels wrong. They/them is fine whenever though, so if you’re not sure you can just use that.”

“Good to know,” Roman said. “I’m he/him all the time. I’m sure you already know Narcissa uses she/her, but the rest of us use he/him. Logan also finds they/them acceptable if that’s worth noting.”

“Good to know,” they teased. “Your group really knows how to throw a party.”

“Yeah, we all saw you and Narcissa on New Years,” Roman said. EJ blushed pink.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Roman quickly packed up his art supplies and put them in his bag before swinging it over his shoulder. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Art is my next class,” they explained. “I find it easier to wait here.”

“Fair enough,” Roman laughed. “I’ll see you around, then?”

“You certainly will,” they said with a smile as Roman left. Their eyes never left him until he was completely out of view. “And I’ll be seeing you.”

+

Roman was alone in his room, sketching every fine line and detail that came into his mind. He was never able to figure out his powers with the others. Could he figure them out on his own? He looked at himself in the mirror, his irises were red and his hair was turning grey. Green smoke twirled around his pen. “Are you just here to tease me?” The smoke didn’t answer. “You’re not very charming, you know. You can at least help me with this Patton mystery. I think he’s onto something here.”

Roman looked down at the drawing and saw Patton on one side of the page and Virgil on the lother. He glared at the smoke. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

He pulled out his phone and flipped to a new page. He had taken a good amount of photos from New Year’s Eve, and he wanted some drawings that weren’t strange magical lines. He pulled up a group shot from the party they had talked Seth into taking for them. He zoomed in on EJ’s face, the lighting gave them an almost orange halo. Roman picked up his pencil and started sketching. There was something familiar about their eyes. He brushed off the thought, deciding he needed to work on developing a more unique style.

He scribbled the rest of his friends onto the page, paying special attention to the highlights on Virgil’s skin and the curl of Logan’s hair along with the crookedness of Patton’s smile. By the time he was finished with the drawing, the smoke was gone and he looked like himself once again.

“Your tricks are getting rather tired, Remus,” he scoffed quietly. “You’ll need to find a new way to get my hopes up.”

He checked the time and realized it was getting late. He quickly put away his art supplies and headed to the bathroom, turning on the shower as he did a few more chores.

He turned on his speaker and let his Disney playlist play, putting away his phone as he quickly stripped down. He stepped into the hot water, imaging his stressors melting away down the drain. He closed his eyes and massaged shampoo onto his scalp, singing along to a song from the original Mary Poppins and completely oblivious to the soaps and hygiene products levitating around him.

[ziamhaze]

Hi, I hope you're well! I just want to start off by thanking you for all the wonderful fics you have blessed me with!

I just finished Red vs. Black and was hoping you wouldn't mind answering some questions I have. As someone who risks his own life to save others, how does Liam justify being with someone he knows has killed innocent people? It'd be one thing if Zayn had only killed those directly involved with what happened to his family, but he's killed innocent civilians over minor inconveniences (such as the teenagers in the convertible). Does Zayn still think he is justified in doing so? Does he ever feel guilty about it? If not, how would Liam and Zayn be compatible if their moral compasses are so different?

Also, did Zayn's father ever make his way to the UK? Or was that just a lie he told Zayn to comfort him? Does Zayn ever find his family, especially his younger sister?

I know it's a lot, but I'd really love to hear your answers if you want to give them! Again thank you for all of your wonderful works!

So sorry it’s taken me this long to reply, but I didn’t forget!

To start I’d like to thank you for clicking, and finishing, Red vs. Black.  It isn’t the shortest of fics, nor is it the most delicate - to put it lightly.  For the latter alone, thank you.

These are such poignant, important questions.  Ones that are nearly word for word what I asked myself while planning the ending.

                         SPOILERS FOR ALL OF RED VS. BLACK

1)  How does Liam stay with Zayn after learning of all his senseless killings?

Honestly, I questioned this the most when feeling out the concept.  As a fic writer it’s expected of me to write not only a romance, but also a happy ending.  Of course fics exist that do neither, but they’re very rare and not exactly well-loved.  And truthfully, a massive point that I wanted to get across - and which in effect answers this question - is that despite people’s pasts, they cannot overcome them without being given the opportunity.  100%.  No ands, ifs, or buts.  For a prisoner to assimilate back into society and not go back to their old ways, they need to be trusted with a job.  With a salary (no matter how small), they need to trust themselves to be able to not buy anything that may contribute to poor habits: drugs, alcohol, weapons, gambling, a means of transport that will give them the ability to visit bad influences (more of a psychological thing, but still).  A lot of prisoners are never given this opportunity (especially in the United States), and therefore fall back into their old ways, which are more often than not coping mechanisms to deal with the fact that they can’t fit into society as easily as privileged people to begin with; it’s a terrible cycle.  However, there are plenty of success stories of those that truly wish to change and are lucky enough to stumble upon an employer or mentor or sponsor of some sort that hands them an inkling of hope/trust that they use to fight their way back up.  The fic is fantasy, and while Zayn’s story is rooted in real world PTSD, I think the prisoner analogy is easy for us to envision and therefore, understand why Liam acts the way he does.  I also made it a point in the last scene when they’re talking things out to have Liam voice his contingency: if Zayn so much as spits at anyone, he’s done for.  That’s to say, he’s not wiping his slate clean just yet.

2)  Does Zayn still feel his useless killings were justified?

I’m going to answer assuming that you’re referring to the time after the fic ends.

Looking back at his actions is something that would be inevitable when he starts therapy, and this is a perfect example of one of the questions his therapist would ask.  You may not like my answer, but as an author I find it imperative that I speak of my characters realistically and to keep them true, not how I want them to act.  That said, yes, Zayn would still find justification in why he’s done what he’s done.

There are a few instances in the story where this is actually explained.  Take the scene in the bar with fancy mixologists.  Zayn begins to get aggravated over the people in the room simply because they’re ignorant to the feeling of significant pain.  There’s also the scene where he’s back home in Cheshire and Harry straight out tells him, he may be furious at the unfairness of the world, but he needs to learn how to come to terms with it.  It’s not going to change.  This right here is what a therapist would work with him to do, and also why I had Harry be the one to bring this up in the story - he is one.

I know it sounds incredibly foreign to the average person, but trust me when I say that people struggling with anger problems founded in (un)fairness, exist.  I’ve spoken with professionals about it.  Add on crippling childhood PTSD and a villain like Zayn can definitely be born.  It’s why treatment is needed, and why the answer is ‘yes’ in the beginning of Zayn’s journey to peace.  When his answer switches over to ‘no’, that’s when it’ll be outwardly apparent that he’s beating his ailment.  Unfortunately, for many, the inner battle with mental health is lifelong; the answer ‘no’ will never turn solid.

3)  Does Zayn feel guilty about the above?

Again, there are a couple times when I write Zayn to literally mention how he feels zero guilt.  However, if you really really pay attention you’ll notice that these instances aren’t villain related.

For example, meeting Liam’s parents:

After handing his father and Zayn each their tea, Liam looks between them suspiciously. "Leaving the two of you in a room together was a bad idea."

"Don't know what you're on about," Geoff replies innocently. "We were just talking about cars, weren't we Zayn?" Even with all eyes on him, the pressure of lying doesn't get to Zayn. It never does.

"Yeah," he agrees, bringing his drink up to his lips carefully, "cars."

Or, after Zayn walks out from the comedy club:

"It takes a lot of courage to get up there and do something like that, don't you think?"

"Not really."

Liam looks to the side, hoping that he can interpret more from Zayn's answers by seeing the expressions that go with their frankness. "So if I signed you up, you would do it?"

"Why would I want to make a room full of strangers laugh?" Zayn retorts, his right eye scrunching up in distaste, like it's a mannerism of his provoked by moronic questions. "I don't have a superiority complex." Liam thinks he might, but. "I know I'm better than those people, no mediocracy to cover up here."

So we’ve got those, but then we’ve also got this massive character point:

Right as the last of the snake's body emerges, Zayn snaps his fingers, triggering heavy hip-hop music to flow through his headphones and drown out the man's blood curdling cry.

If he could permanently damage people who deserved it, not always because they did something to Zayn, but because he liked to play god and throw them a massive curveball like life had done to him, then why shouldn't he? So long as he pulls his soundproof headphones off the little robot on the inside of his right arm to avoid listening to the pain his choice brutality caused, there's no valid reason he shouldn't take advantage of the gift he was given.

From where he's sitting, he probably won't be able to hear anything, but he fastens the equipment over his ears just in case.

All at once, the atmospheric sounds of central London, mixed with the terrified screams of those in the burning building beneath them, hit Zayn at full force. The sensory overload alone would normally be enough to piss him off, but tack on his protection from audible trauma being taken and being spoken to while in villain mode, and he's seeing red as deep as the pits of hell he knows he's destined for.

I wrote Zayn’s headphone usage as a way to alert that the reader that he does, in fact, feel villain-related guilt.  He can’t act on his anger without them on.  He’ll have his victims screams stuck in his head, and he’d never be able to handle that a.k.a. there’s zero satisfaction from their literal pain.  Think about that and it’ll answer your follow-up question.

4)  What happened to Zayn’s family?

Zayn’s father meant what he said - he’d do whatever he needed to reunite his family.  That wasn’t a falsity at all.  The problem is money.  And politics, but let’s start with the issue of money.  It took Yaser nine years to save up the amount he paid to have Zayn and Waliyha smuggled across the border.  The whole concept of smuggling is that it’s a cheaper option than the legal one.  So if we look at this, you can see how long it would take him to save for three adult visa fees, three adult plane tickets, and enough to stay afloat for a month or so when they get to England.  Now add in the politics of the early 2000s and the Afghanistan/Pakistan region.  We know that Yaser fixed air conditioners for a living.  No person with that average of a background is going to have an easy time immigrating anywhere.  Even so, would it really take him over 18 years?  While it’s plausible, perhaps a man with such determination would find another way.  Or...was that unnecessary because he was fed lies?

Think about it.  After several weeks and no word from his children, don’t you think he’d cause a riot?  He’s the type to drive over to Badar’s house and demand his relatives get in contact with him to find out what’s going on.  But, given the flashback Zayn has, it’s obvious that Badar never planned on accompanying any of the children to the UK, and if that’s the case, he clearly couldn’t return to Quetta.  I imagine a fully rehearsed story was told to all of the children’s parents about how they were killed somewhere along the way.

As for Waliyha, her whereabouts were told to my gang over on Patreon a while ago.  In short, yes, she’s still alive and I plan on pitching the book’s sequel to publishers as a graphic novel series revolved around her location.  Louis’ dark web bot finally found a hint as to where that might be, so Zayn and Liam go on a journey across Europe to find her.  Each issue would (probably) take place in a new city and involve both fighting a single bad guy.

Just a quick reminder to anyone who reads this, Red vs. Black and all involved characters are my intellectual property and cannot be replicated, manipulated, or stolen.

Again, thank you for your question and time!  I know my fics aren’t short and take a huge time commitment to finish.  If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to send them my way!  I’m super busy writing the next story and doing critical work, but I promise I’ll get around to it.

[postmodernpromartheus]

Couches

On a rainy Saturday morning, Mulder and Scully find themselves at Ikea in an effort to replace the couch that was destroyed in what they refer to as the Extreme Makeover: Russian Edition.

*Thanks to @greycoupons for her help and encouragement

  “Why did we pick today, of all days, to come here? It’s a fricking zoo, Mulder.“

"Because we aren’t away on a case and we really can’t sit on that couch anymore.”

“I know, it just sucks. Why’d they have to destroy the couch? Couldn’t they have just waited to shoot us until we went outside? I really liked that couch.”

 “We’ll find something even better. What about that one?”

“The back is too low.”

“What about this one?”

“I don’t like the cushions.”

“Why?”

“They’re too messy.”

“What the hell does that even mean, Scully?!”

“They’re going to get all bunched up and no. Just no. I don’t like them.”

“What about this one, then?”

“It’s green, Mulder.”

“It’s fabric. It can be changed. What about the look of it?”

“I don’t like the legs.”

“Seriously?! You pick one, then.”

“That one.”

“It looks like something from my old dorm room in college.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Mulder.”

“Let’s go sit on that one over there.”

"Ok. I'm ready for a rest. My feet hurt in these shoes."

"What do you think, Scully?"

“Hmmm. It's ok. It’s not terribly comfortable, though.”

“It has to get broken in a bit, Scully. It needs to mold to our butt cheeks.”

“The other one was perfect.”

“Which one, Scully? The one over there?”

“No, the one they destroyed.”

“But we can’t have that one. We need to pick a new one. So just pick and we’ll learn to like it as much as the other one.”

“I miss your leather couch.”

“Really?”

“Don’t you, Mulder? Don’t you ever think about it?”

“No. It was old and falling apart…not to mention, hideous. Why would you miss that?”

“So many important moments happened on that couch, Mulder. So many meals eaten, movies watched. We cried for your mom on that couch. We cried for a lot of things on that couch. We laughed. Opened presents. Mulder, William was created on that couch.”

“Possibly. Or in the bed, in the shower, against the front door, or on the kitchen table.”

“The front door. I forgot about that. That was a good weekend. You don’t miss your old apartment?”

“No. I have the memories I want to keep, the rest I’d prefer to leave there. I miss your old couch, though. The ugly, blue striped one.”

“It wasn’t ugly! It was quite “in” at the time, Mulder.”

“It was ugly, but I loved it. I used to love to find any excuse to go to your apartment and sit on that couch. Your apartment was Dana, not Scully. Dana was soft and innocent. I would imagine Dana sitting there reading Breakfast at Tiffany’s with her tea and a fuzzy blanket …”

“I haven’t read that in at least 15 years! I used to love reading that over and over.”

“I didn’t get many glimpses of Dana so being able to be in that space on that couch was like watching an animal at the zoo.”

“Thanks very much for that analogy, Mulder.”

“Dana only existed in that space. She hasn’t really existed since, has she?They took that innocence from you. I miss that part of you and I miss that couch.  Unfortunately, much of my love for the couch was tarnished the day I went in to find you about to make out with Van Blundht.”

“The h is silent guy!! What was his first name?! It’s on the tip of my tongue! I hate that so many of those memories are fuzzy now.”

“Eddie.”

“That’s it! And I wasn’t about to make out with him, I was about to make out with you.”

“Whatever.”

“I miss my mom’s couch.”

“Why? What did it look like, Scully?”

“Not because of its looks. I miss that I could go over to her house no matter what condition I was in and my mom would sit me down on the couch and feed me and start a fire in the fireplace and cover me with a blanket and talk to me. I just miss what it represented.”

“I’m sorry, Scully. I can understand that, though. I miss the couch in Chillmark, the one we had when I was growing up before Sam was taken. We would build blanket forts around it and I would make her watch The Twilight Zone or Outer Limits, even though she was scared, because I didn’t want her to be weak. I wanted her to be a tough girl so no boy could take advantage of her. I thought I was toughening her up. After she was gone, my mom left the house exactly the same. She told people it was so that when Samantha came home, she would still recognize it. I know now that was a lie. My mom knew where she was the whole time. It  was just a way to make my parents appear less suspicious. I still miss the couch, though.”

“Oh, Mulder, that’s awful.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the couch at your mom’s house in Greenwich?”

“I don’t really have any memory of that one. Why?”

“Funny enough, I do. Remember the time you brought me there and you got into a fight with your mom and ditched me. She had gone up to her room and I didn’t know where a phone or phone book was in the house so I had to sit on the couch and wait for her to come back down. Eventually, she did and that wasn’t too awkward. Thank you very much, Mulder. We called a cab and I sat on the couch while she hid in the kitchen, but you have no memory of the couch, you son of a bitch, Mulder.”

“Apparently, truer words were never spoken. I was an asshole back then. Sorry, Scully. You deserved better.”

“Yes. Yes, I did, Mulder. Thankfully, you outgrew the ditching.”

“It took me awhile, but I got there eventually. I’m a slow learner.”

“You know the other couch I really miss? You’ll think I’m crazy, but I really miss the gunmen’s couch.”

“Ew, Scully!!!! There had to be so many organisms growing on that thing. I shudder to think.”

“I miss the Friday nights you guys let me come along for Friday Fiesta. I miss Frohike’s cooking.”

“Yeah, he made killer Mexican food.”

“Why Mexican? And why did I never question that before?”

“He loved to eat it so he learned how to cook it. Pure and simple.”

“His huevos rancheros and his enchiladas. Mmmmmm.”

“Oh, the enchiladas. God, yeah.”

“I remember sitting and eating and playing video games. I miss the guys so much, Mulder.”

“Me, too, Scully. It used to feel like we were in high school when we’d sit on the couch and I’d figure out ways to touch you without anyone noticing.”

“They noticed, Mulder. You’d put your arm around me or we’d hold hands. It was so innocent and sweet.”

“Remember the Halloween parties?”

“Of course I do, what about them?”

“Remember the weird guy?”

“There was someone there who wasn’t weird…besides me, of course?”

“Very funny. No, the guy. The guy with the thing on his head who tried to hit on you?”

“Frankie!!! Yes!!”

“You remember his name?!”

“Yeah, I set him up with a woman from the lab. One of Pendrell’s co-workers. I think they're still married.”

“I hope they didn’t reproduce.”

“That’s mean, Mulder.”

“Maybe they got her genes.”

“I miss Missy’s couch. It was bohemian. It was colorful and smelled like patchouli.”

“Missy?”

“My sister, Mulder. Melissa.”

“God, I’m sorry, Scully. You don’t usually refer to her that way. You don’t usually refer to her at all, actually.”

“Did you ever see her apartment? While I was in the hospital, I mean.”

“No. She came to mine, once, to tell me to get my head out of my ass.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“NO!! Why would you ask me that?! God, Scully!”

“I’ve always wondered. When I woke up you looked so guilty. She didn’t, but you did.”

“You could tell?”

“Of course. What did you do, Mulder? Why did you feel guilty? Did you sleep with one of my nurses?”

“No. While you were missing I slept with someone on a case. I felt so guilty. I couldn’t look you in the eye.”

“Was it someone I know?”

“No. It was a woman in a vampire case in California. Her name was Kristen”

“Did you see her again?”

“No. She died that night.”

"That's awful, Mulder! I'm sorry that happened to you. May  I read the file later?"

"Sure."

“Where did you do it with her?”

“Bathroom sink.”

“Oh.”

“Did Ed have a couch?”

“Who’s Ed?”

“Jerse. Ed Jerse. Speaking of sleeping with someone on a case.”

“Mulder. Yes, he had a couch. He slept on it that night. And I didn’t sleep with him. I wanted to, but he couldn’t perform. He managed to do other things, though.”

“He couldn’t get it up?!”

“Nope, stop looking so smug, Mulder. He got me off just fine, though.”

“Oh.”

“God, I haven’t thought about him in years.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve had a constant reminder.”

“What?”

“Your tattoo, Scully.”

“Oh, Mulder! I have wanted to have it removed and you’ve stopped me every time! Why did you stop me?”

“At first I asked you to keep it out of spite. I got what he wanted. Screw him…”

“Mulder!! How dare you use me that way!”

“Wait…I said, at first. I was angry. I hated him for getting to be with you first. Then I realized it was in my spot…you know…where I always put my hand and that it represented our beginning years together.”

“Oh, Mulder…”

“Now, when I look at it, it takes me back to the days in our basement office.”

“Mulder, it was never about Jerse just like it was never about the desk. I wanted so desperately to know I mattered to you…”

“Scully, you…”

“No, Mulder, let me finish. I wanted to know that you wanted me by your side. I wanted a nameplate and my name on the door and a desk because I wanted you to tell everyone that I was your partner. That I belonged. That I mattered to you and to the work. That I wasn’t just assigned to you.”

“I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like you didn’t. You were everything, Scully. You still are.”

“I know that now, Mulder. I just didn’t know it then.”

“I wish to God I knew that all I had to do was take you couch shopping to get you to open up to me. It would have saved me decades of frustration.”

“Mulder, let’s get a couch and go home.”

“A couch and meatballs, Scully. I’m here for the meatballs.”

“Yes. We’ll get you meatballs. Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“I want this couch.”

“Ok. What color?”

“No, I mean I want this couch.”

“Why this one, Scully?”

“Because this one has memories already attached to it. I don’t want to start over, Mulder.”

“Do they even do that here? Can you buy a floor model if they have brand new ones ready to go?”

 “Mulder?”

 “Ok. Ok. I’ll get you this couch. You do know that lots of people have sat on this one, right? Kids with dirty hands. I’d think your germaphobia would want you to have the same one brand new. Wouldn’t it?”

“Mulder?”

“All right. I’m going to ask the employee over there who is going to think we’re insane.”

“Thank you, Mulder.”

“Ok. It took some finagling. She said no, at first. I think she thought we wanted a floor sample discount so I even offered to pay more, but she took the asking price. She just didn’t want to have to build a new sample. You’ve got your couch, Scully! We have to go rent a truck to get this thing home.”

“Oh, thank you, Mulder!!! Do you think it will fit through the front door?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the legs come off. We’ll figure it out. I need some meatballs, Scully.”

“Ok. Let’s go get you some meatballs. You might even get me to try one.”

“I think maybe there’s a part of Dana still in there after all, Scully.”

“I think you’re right, Mulder. I think you’re right.”

@today-in-fic @sarie-fairy @baronessblixen @suitablyaggrieved @kyouryokusenshi @fragilevixenfic @admiralty-xfd @toxgrl @chekcough

[ds-ts-smut-fics]

Sweet On You [Chapter Four]

Summary: Moxiety sugar daddy/sugar baby au [Daddy Patton, baby Virgil, transboy Virgil, switch Virgil, dom Patton, fwb analogical, romantic moxiety, sympathetic Deceit, romantic loginceit], hurt/comfort

Trigger warnings: Nsfw, “female” body parts described on Virgil, everyone- including virgil -jokingly calls Virgil a slut, dysphoria mentions, shitty parenting, lmk if i missed anything

A/N: Sorry for the late chapter!! ~Virgil

When Patton wakes up the next morning, Virgil is gone. On the kitchen counter is a note and a few twenties. 

Daddy, 

Parents needed me for something, didn’t want to wake you. Text me later. 

~Virgil

Yawning, he smiles softly, taking the money and thinking of foods to make with it. "Going to have to do an inventory of the cabinets and go shopping." Soon completing it, he grins, adding to the note with a nearby pen.

My darling baby, 

No worries, I've done an inventory of cabinets and headed out for dinner supplies!

~Patton 💙

*** 

Virgil meets Logan at the cafe they always meet at between classes, finding him at a table near the window. He slouches down in the chair across from Logan, groaning and hitting his head on the table. 

Stirring his coffee and raising an eyebrow, Logan hums. "That good or that bad?"

Virgil raises his head long enough to glare and say, “I saw my parents this morning,” and drops his head back down with a painful thump. 

Logan's eyes widen. "Fuck."

“One of their business partners or friends or I don’t fucking know, they’re getting married in a few months and my parents were invited to the wedding.” Virgil sighs, pulling Logan’s coffee towards him and stealing some. “They want me to come,” Virgil says after swallowing. “It’s in the next town over, so I’d be with them all weekend.” 

"Oh dear… would they accept me as a date and all that? You could take your daddy, but… Could he survive your parents?" 

He thinks for a minute. “I don’t know… That they would accept me bringing a date, I mean. Obviously Patton wouldn’t be able to survive my parents."

Arching an eyebrow higher, Logan hums. "Can't survive or you don't want to subject him to…?"

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s never meeting my parents.” 

He eyes Logan suspiciously. The bags under his eyes are a little darker than usual, and he seems tired. He keeps zoning out. 

“Have you eaten today?” 

Humming, Logan waves him off. "Why wouldn't I have eaten? You're being ridiculous again!" 

“Logan.” Virgil leans forward- He doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to argue. “Do I look like someone who likes to be lied to?” 

Wincing, Logan deflates and rubs his face tiredly. "What day is today? I think I ate an apple on Wednesday and some chips Thursday…"

“I gave you money for dinner last night,” Virgil snaps. He gets up, grabbing Logan’s hand and throwing down some money for the coffee. He drags Logan out of there. 

"I forgot until it was too late for places to be open… I'm sorry?" Letting himself get dragged, he stumbles after his friend with a yawn.

“You could have at least gotten some fast food,” he grumbles, ushering him into the passenger seat of his car. 

Before he can even blink, Logan’s sitting across from Virgil at a restaurant, a huge plate with big portions sitting in front of him. Virgil ordered for him, and had done it well- It was all of Logan’s favourite foods. 

Sighing as he nibbles at the toast, Logan shrugs. "That would have meant leaving the library and thus losing access to a place to sleep."

Virgil stares at him. “Your dorm can’t be that bad.” 

Before he can stop his sleepy tongue, Logan laughs. "That implies that my parents sent the school money for me to have a bed in the dorms." 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Virgil looks furious. “You didn’t tell me that! You think if I knew you didn’t have a bed that I’d send you out of the apartment for the night?! What else haven’t you told me?” 

Shrugging, Logan eats more toast and eggs. "Told you they cut off everything they could… If it wasn't in my name, I don't have it anymore. So, no car, credit card… nothing but what the scholarship gets me and my savings account? Don't worry about the bed, all the libraries have decent couches and it gets me more study time."

“They took everything?” Virgil is in shock. When Logan told him his parents cut him off, he thought he meant his allowance. As much as his parents couldn’t stand the way Virgil lived, they would never completely cut him off. “Have they even checked in at all?” 

Sighing, he nods slightly. "Does yelling count? They didn't stop my cell, so they can call occasionally and 'talk' about me stopping the sugar baby thing."

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Because that’s so easy to do now that you’re fucking broke. You don’t even have a sugar daddy!” He cries. “They just saw the forum app on your phone!” 

Blushing, Logan admits softly, "I had been chatting with a daddy… They scared him away and I think he told others that I'm cold and impersonal because my father sent some messages from my phone."

Virgil frowns deeply. “Really? God, I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head. “Well, nevermind that. After we eat, we’re gonna swing by your dorm and grab your stuff. You can have one of the guest bedrooms.”

His head snaps up and he stares like Virgil has two heads. "Really?! But, what about… Patton?"

“Logan,” he laughs, “you’re my best friend. If you think I’m going to let you continue on like you have, you’re fucking crazy. I’m already planning on revenge on you for waiting so long to tell me. If Patton can’t handle you being there, then tough. You come first.” 

Blushing, Logan plays with a napkin, grumbling. "It's only been like a month!" 

“Eat your food.”

"Fiiine…" Eating slowly to savour it, Logan hums. "So… How'd the date go? Did Patton live up to the expectations?"

Virgil grins deviously. “You have no idea. Lo- He’s perfect. He’s so great.” 

Smirking softly, he nods. "A perfect fit, hmmm? Tried him out already?"

“Well, duh, but I wasn’t talking about the sex! I mean, I know in a normal arrangement like what you’re looking for, the sex is kind of important, but-” Virgil shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. “He’s great, Logan. He’s so cute and sweet and funny.”

"Compatibility is important to any relationship. I know it's not the full picture though. I meant to ask how your relationship requirements meshed with what he provided…" 

“He’s perfect. He’s so cuddly and affectionate. Between going from the restaurant to my apartment, he bought me a flower.”

Whistling softly, Logan sighs. "Does he have a tall, dark, and handsome brother?"

“Pfft. Maybe.” Virgil laughs. “We’ll find you a daddy. Promise. Just keep checking your profile. Have you gotten any messages today?” 

Pulling out his phone, he sighs softly as he checks messages. "A couple… Sound kind of 'used car salesman' type, ick!"

Virgil makes a face. “Yeah, don’t trust those guys, they won’t treat you right.”

Sighing, he deletes the messages. "Yeah…" At some point I'm going to have to, though, just for money. 

“Come on.” Virgil covers the bill and the tip, getting a box for Logan’s leftovers. “Let’s go get your stuff. You might not believe me, but your new room has a bed.” 

*** 

Huffing a little, Logan sets down the last box of books. "I'm sorry… I hadn't realized I had this much stuff? I'm a bit surprised that my former roommate let me store them under his bed!"

Virgil just waves him off, starting to clear the guest bedroom’s bookshelf so Logan can fill it with his own stuff. “Not a problem. We’ve got enough room here.” 

"True…" Pushing his suitcase and backpack over, he smiles at Virgil. "Still, thank you for extending a welcome? Are you sure it's okay with your new daddy?"

“I’m about to text him right now.” Virgil rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Logan, if he’s not okay with it, I don’t care. I care more about you.”

Anxiety: 

I’ve got something to tell you 

Patton:

Go ahead, baby… everything okay? 

Anxiety:

Logan’s situation was worse than I thought. He’s moving in with me. 

Patton:

Oh my, but of course! Does he have any favorites that I should get at the store, baby?

Virgil sends him a list of Logan’s favourite foods, mostly healthy foods aside from his favourite jam, and a little extra money. 

Just as he’s about to put his phone away, it rang. His mom’s face comes across the screen, and he holds back a groan as he answered. 

“Yeah?” 

His mother's half-bored tone rings through clearly. "Darling… do remember your date tonight at the Sea Scallop? 7pm, with Shane…" 

“What if I’m busy tonight? You could have let me know ahead of time.”

There's a small huff and the sound of a glass being set down as she replies. "What could you possibly be busy with? You don't study, and Logan knows that your dates come first. You need to find someone, tick tock, darling!" 

There are two things that gave Virgil dysphoria faster than anything else. 1- His period, and 2- His mom talking about his fucking biological clock again. 

“Hold on. Why the hell would Logan think my dates come before him?” Virgil’s eyes flick nervously to Logan, who’s still unpacking, and now watching Virgil talk curiously. 

"His mother said she told him that if he didn't want to marry you then he had to learn to step aside for your dates. Why would a friend be more important than your duty anyway?" The sarcasm on the word friend hung heavy as if implying there was a secondary motive for the relationship or she had trouble believing that anyone could have a friend.

Virgil is at a loss. He has so much he wants to say to her, yet, in this moment, he can’t remember any of it. “Whatever,” he mumbles tiredly. “I’ll be there.”

"Of course you will… Just ask for the Alfred reservation or for Shane's table and be there at 7pm sharp, darling?" Her tone a clear dismissal, she waits for an acknowledgment before hanging up.

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Virgil shoves his phone in his pocket and sighs. “I have a date tonight,” he tells Logan. “Just- Don’t tell Patton, okay?” 

Sighing, Logan offers a hug. "Okay… he does know, though? About your parents setting you up on dates, right?"

Virgil cuddles into his arms. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned it? That’s a whole, long talk that I don’t want to have yet. We’ve agreed not to be exclusive, though, so I’m not cheating on him or anything. I just don’t want to upset him.” Humming, Logan rubs his back gently. "Not saying it has to be today, or soon… but at some point, tell him? Let him support you, V."

“I mean, what’s the point?” Virgil groans, burying his face in Logan’s shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, who cares?”

Smiling softly, Logan pets Virgil's hair with a hum, leading them back to the bed for easier cuddling. "Perhaps it's because my parents cut me off, but… it could happen to you, too? You should have someone other than me in your corner, someone who can support your voice and give you strength for when they're assholes, V. I don't want you to be alone when facing their bullshit?"

“Logan, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that as long you’re alive, I’ll never be alone.”

Laughing softly, Logan nods, pressing their foreheads together. "That's true!" 

Virgil grins widely, cupping Logan’s face in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut. Logan never fails to make him stupidly, euphorically happy. 

Whistling softly, Patton knocks with arms loaded with grocery bags. "Virgil, my darling? I need a little help!"

Virgil pulls away from Logan, kissing him on the forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 

Logan nods, settling back on the bed. "Okay…"

Virgil comes back downstairs, helping Patton bring the groceries into the kitchen. “So what are you making tonight?”

Setting bags down, he hums. "I was planning on tofu and veggie stir fry, setting it over rice and making a garlic sauce for it… how does that sound?"

Virgil hums, smiling. “It sounds amazing. I do have somewhere to be by 7, though, just so you know. I only just found out or else I would have told you earlier.”

"Oh! Okay… hmm, I think several of the veggies and tofu can keep for a later time? What kind of a thing, work, parents, or ...?" Putting groceries away, he keeps out his ingredients, starting to wash veggies.

“My parents are forcing me on a business meeting,” he says easily, shrugging It isn’t a total lie… 

Nodding, he sets up the pans to start cooking. "Should I wait for you, keep Logan company, or should I head out after food and see you later, baby?"

Virgil thought for a minute. “I think Logan might want some alone time tonight. He’s been through a lot, I think he needs time to digest it. We’ll find time to hang out tomorrow.” Virgil got up to make himself a mug of coffee, humming. “What about you? Are your parents as nightmarish as mine?”

Chuckling as he works, Patton shakes his head. "Nah, I think mine could only be described as wacky hippies? Dad is a therapist and Ma is… a sweet ditz of a housewife?"

“They sound great,” Virgil says sincerely. “I guess they must’ve been, to raise you.”

Blushing a bit, Patton nods, leaning over and stealing a kiss. Virgil’s face turns pink. 

Humming into the kiss, he slowly pulls back to stir the veggies. "So, how did you and Logan meet? He seems like a good friend to you!"

Virgil blushes. How was he supposed to explain this? “Well, our parents set us up on a date- Before Logan’s parents cut him off -and we just really liked each other. Only not romantically.”

"Huh! Well, I guess your parents aren't doing too well on being dating help, but I'm glad you found a friend!" Stroking Virgil's cheek, he hums softly. "Are they… They support your identity at least?"

Virgil hesitates. So many landmines to avoid… “Oh, you have no idea about the dating thing.” He forces a laugh. “They’re constantly trying to set me up with people. They get mad if I try to refuse a date.”

"O-oh… They don't know about us, do they?" Squeezing Virgil's hand, he sighs.

“... No,” he says quietly. “And they probably won’t. At least for a while.” God, he was going to end things, wasn’t he? They agreed already to be open, but… 

"I can practically see your mind working, baby… relax. It's, it's okay. If it helps smooth things with your parents, you can keep dating them and me." Taking Virgil's hand, he kisses his knuckles. 

“It’s not like that,” he promised. “It’s just… A bunch of one night stands, pretty much. Nothing ongoing.”

Looking over Virgil a moment, he nods. "Free meal and sex, nothing more serious?"

“Pretty much.” He laughed. “They’re pretty much just queer kids their parents are trying to unqueer, like me.”

Chuckling, Patton sighs. "Well… I'll try not to be jealous of my baby's other dates so long as you come home to me?"

Virgil gave him a soft kiss. “Of course, daddy.”

Hums, turning the heat down a little as they kiss. "Good boy…"

Virgil moaned softly, pressing closer and winding his fingers in Patton’s hair. 

"Mmm~ dinner on hold for now, baby?" Gently grabbing a handful of Virgil's ass, he chuckles.

“As much as I want to say yes,” he checked the time- it read 5:30, “I really don’t have that much time.”

"Why do I feel like cursing your mother?" Kissing him softly, he tucks Virgil into his side as he finalized the sauce, warming the stir fry. 

“Should I go get Logan?” 

"Set the table first, baby. Then you can get your friend." 

Virgil grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you telling me what to do?” 

Raising an eyebrow at him, Patton grins. "It's a reasonable request from your daddy, baby…"

Virgil came up to him and chuckled. “I don’t listen to orders,” he said, gave Patton a soft kiss, and went upstairs. 

He knew he’d pay for that later. 

Snorting softly, Patton set a hand on his hip, planning out a light punishment in his mind as he set the table and got food ready. Virgil came back with his hand in Logan’s, hiding a smirk. 

Logan looks between them, seeing his friend's defiant posture and Patton's light frown. "Oh my… You're testing him, aren't you, V?"

“Are you really surprised?” Virgil took a seat at the table, in between Logan and Patton. 

Rolling his eyes as he sat, Logan hums at the lovely smell of the dinner. "Not really?"

Patton takes Virgil's plate and fills it, grasping his chin to pull him into a kiss as he sets it down. "You're not leaving your chair until you finish your food, baby boy… and you have earned a punishment for later with that defiance earlier."

Virgil’s face turned pink. “But that portion is huge!” 

Leaning close, Patton smirks. "So am I, but we know you can take me, baby~!"

Virgil only blushed harder. “Let’s just eat, before we kill Logan,” he grumbled. 

Logan snickers, taking some food and watching the exchange. "Oh, don't stop on my account… this is hilarious!"

Virgil glared at him. “Patton, if you happen to know any daddies, Logan’s looking for one.”

Patton grins. "Oh really? I don't, sadly… well, not any good ones."

“Ah, lame,” Virgil grumbled through a mouthful of food. “He’s been lookin’ for ages.” 

"Sorry, love. If I see a decent one, I promise to send him Logan's way?" Patton shrugs, eating his food with a low hum. "Chew before you talk, baby…"

Virgil raised an eyebrow, chewing with his mouth open and then swallowing. “What?” 

Patton points with his fork. "Baby, if you don't want to go to this date with a red ass, you best behave! I will take you over my knee and spank you!"

Virgil blushed. “Daddy,” he hissed, “Logan’s right there.”

Patton leans in closer with a slight smirk and pats Virgil's cheek. "Then you best be on your best behavior, love!"

He huffed and continued eating. “Fine.” 

Logan giggles, eating with a happy smile.

"Good boy!" Stroking Virgil's cheek, Patton grins and kisses him before turning back to his plate.

Virgil finished eating, watching Patton and Logan interact. He couldn’t help but smile. Logan was the single most important person in the world to him- It meant everything that the two of them could get along. He wanted more than anything to stay, and just hang out with them, but he knew his parents would make him regret it if he skipped out on this date. 

“Alright,” Virgil sighed, his plate cleaned. “I’m gonna go get ready. I should leave soon.” 

"Alright, baby… Thank you for cleaning your plate. Put it in the sink on your way to get dressed, darling? Oh, and if you don't kiss me before you leave, I will follow you until I get one!" Patton grins, winking at him.

Virgil bit his lip to stop from giggling, hurrying up the stairs. He hurried to throw on clothes that his parents would just barely approve of- A black blazer over a purple shirt with a cat face on it, and some black jeans - sitting down to do his makeup. 

Once he had on his signature eyeliner and eyeshadow, he headed back downstairs. 

Patton was just finishing dishes when he saw Virgil coming down and whistled. "Wow, baby… C'mere, darling, give your daddy a kiss!"

Virgil grinned and came over to him, cupping Patton’s face in his hands and standing on his tiptoes to kiss him. Leaning in, he hums as he kisses Virgil deeply as he slides his arms around him. 

Virgil reluctantly pulled away. “I should get going.” 

Nodding, Patton strokes his face. "I know… I'll head home soon after giving Logan a tour of the food I brought for you two, okay? Have a good night and message me when you're home safe, baby boy."

Virgil leaned into his touch, nodding. “Okay, daddy. See you soon.” 

Virgil forced himself to pull away. He grabbed his wallet and keys, offered Patton a small smile before leaving for his date.

Tag list:

@useless-gay-baby @nsfsanders @sinfulstorytime @felicianoromano @xpouii @chocolocosstuff @lexi-love99 @dn-fan21

[lyssismagical]

out of sight, out of mind

Whumptober Day Fifteen - Scars

Read on AO3

Tony’s life is written across his skin.

Scars marking all of the worst experiences of his life.

White marking up his elbows and knees from all the trips and falls. Snaking out across his chest from where the arc reactor used to be. The perfect circle on his upper arm from his dad’s cigarette, the echoes dotting his shoulders and collarbones. The little purple ones over his stomach and thighs from the nights gone wrong back in his party days. Jagged red mark in his side from a botched rescue mission. Tiny ones over his hands.

His life’s map is sketched across the planes of his skin, painting his body in his stories.

Peter can’t help but ask when he discovers the new ones. A tale behind every scar. There are a few Tony can’t remember how he got them. A bicycling incident or maybe in the lab. He couldn’t be sure. But sometimes he’ll find one and wish he didn’t.

The truths are always told. Out in the open between them. Tony doesn’t hold any of the stories back even when the hurt shines in his eyes and he rubs the scar like he wishes his skin would swallow it. The stories are told every time.

It’s like building the jigsaw of Tony’s history. Every scar is another piece of the puzzle.

*

Peter’s healing took care of every scar he had from childhood. Nowadays, his wounds are healed within a day and the scars are gone by the end of the week.

He doesn’t have the same kind of visible history that Tony does. But his slumped shoulders and downcast eyes are enough to understand the weight of the world resting on his shoulders, the invisible scars that cut deep below the skin’s surface. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that bullshit nobody really believes.

The bad things happened, and Peter doesn’t have the proof to show. No scratchy scars over his knuckles from how many times he’s split the skin before letting it heal. He should have hundreds of the jagged marks from bullet wounds or stabs or whatever else has happened on patrol.

There’s no scar on his hip from when he was nine. The one he used to scratch at over and over again, wishing the reminder of what happened wasn’t staring back at him.

No vines of white scars over his joints from learning how to ride a bike or, in his case, learning how to use his spider powers. No pink marks on his palms from all the pinching and scratching when trying to keep himself calm. No acne scarring like he had before.

To Peter, there’s no proof to the pain. There’s no validation to his claims.

It’s like he’s begging on his knees for someone to understand, to believe, the pain he’s been through. But there’s no evidence left behind. There’s nothing to back him up. He’s asking people to take his word for it.

And there’s simply been too many people who can’t believe him, so now, he buries those feelings as deep as he can. Piles the hurt in boxes and locks them tight so they never see the light of day.

Who can remember pain once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind.

*

Peter’s hands are soft where Tony’s are rough and calloused.

Tony could never achieve the softness he desired, a gentle touch.

Peter could never achieve the calloused proof he desired, a worker.

Sometimes, jealousy is found is strange places, but it burns just as much.

*

Tony hates the scars that stare back at him, a reminder of past pain, experiences he’d prefer to leave behind him.

The scars left by his father, the ones from his kidnapping, the ones when he failed to keep others safe. There are good ones, he supposes, not good, but in comparison. The one he got when he got on his finger when he was trying to make Peter soup. He supposes he can find good in a few of his collection.

He can sometimes see the beauty in the scars that trace out over his chest. He can understand the ‘tiger stripes’ analogy Peter told him. He can understand the uniqueness behind it.

But he sees his chest and all he can think is stain. Blemish. Damaged. And it’s all wrong. He wishes he had the simple beauty of emptiness. Of an unmarked map.

Every scar is tied to a memory he’d rather not remember. Of a shitty childhood followed by a shitty adulthood until he appreciated Pepper and met Peter.

He wishes he could be a blank canvas.

*

Peter hates the emptiness of his body. No stories to tell, no history.

He hates the unmarked smoothness of his chest. He hates that there’s no scar on his collarbone from when he broke it for the first time. None on his ribs from the numerous times he’s been stabbed in the chest. He’s even missing the one that’s meant to be on his sternum from when he was eight and Ben took him fishing.

He’s supposed to represent who he is, but there’s nothing to show for it. He can’t tell stories about his first attempt at riding a bike. Nobody will ever ask him where he got that scar.

Nobody believes him when he asks for help. There’s no proof. No solid proof that he’s hurting. Everything is below the surface, past memories lingering like ghosts over his shoulder.

There’s not even proof of Skip’s existence, nothing left behind.

His parent’s death didn’t leave a scar. Not a physical one.

Ben… There’s no scar. There’s no jagged, red stain on his skin he can show someone to prove his pain.

He wishes the weight of the world on his shoulders was written out on his skin.

*

It’s after they’ve returned from a kidnapping that their jealousy of one another is discovered.

Tony’s tracing the wounds on his arm from the few cuts he sustained there. There are a few more wounds under his shirt, but they’re still bandaged to protect them from infection.

“These are never going to go away,” Tony mumbles, glaring at the scabs. “Another half a dozen scars to add to my collection.”

“At least people will believe you,” Peter replies. His body’s already healed but his brain feels like it’s been torn to pieces. Everything aches, his ribs are far from healed internally, but he has nothing no proof for the pain he feels.

Tony’s eyebrows furrow a little bit, turning his full attention on Peter who sits on the edge of the hospital bed. Tony’s sitting on the couch, leaving a good six feet between them. After what they’ve been through, Tony desperately wants to close the distance just so he’ll feel a little bit more in control, but he doesn’t want to scare Peter.

“I just-” Peter shrugs, looking down at his hands. They look like baby hands, soft and smooth and gentle. Like he hasn’t clawed his way through hell and back. He pulls his sleeves down over his palms. “I sometimes wish I had proof, you know. Evidence that I’m hurting too.”

Tony’s face falls, hurt shining in his eyes. “You don’t need proof, Peter. I know what you went through in there and I know you’re hurting, okay? Don’t ever think you’re not allowed to be hurting just because you heal fast.”

Running a hand through his hair, Peter shrugs noncommittedly. “You know because you were there. What if you weren’t there? What if no one was there?”

“Nobody was there for Afghanistan. That doesn’t mean people don’t believe me.”

Peter sighs loudly, a little too aggravated for his own good. It brings back the aching in his lungs.

“You have proof. All of it is written on your body like a storybook. Everything that happens to me is washed away like it never meant anything. I’ve been through so much shit, but how can I complain if I don’t even have a scratch to show?”

Tony stands. The space between them stretching out like a fun house hall of mirrors. Like he’d have to cross a desert just to sit next to the boy. Peter’s put up his armor, a protective bubble like he’s scared of getting hurt, but Tony will do anything to break them all down no matter how many times he’ll have to do it again.

“I wish I didn’t have them,” Tony says. A compromise. A show that insecurities can go in both directions. “The scars, I mean. I still haven’t grown to love the ones after my arc reactor was removed… I hate it. I hate the reminders everywhere I go. I wish I could just magically heal them all away.”

Peter shrugs again. The same pretense of nonchalance and carelessness, despite the hurt shining in his downcast eyes.

They’re on different pages of the same book.

Tony worries he’ll never be able to understand why Peter would want to be marred with scars.

Peter worries he’ll never understand why Tony wants to rid himself of the things that make him who he is.

They both worry about the blockage between understanding, uncertain ground beneath their feet, caution where there never needed to be before.

*

Peter’s side is bare where he got shot last week when they were kidnapped for a little under forty-eight hours.

A pale expanse of empty skin. Nothing to see. Pain hidden beneath the surface.

Tony’s arms are marred in new scars, new white lines that won’t ever go away from the kidnappers.

A reminder of the pain once experienced, a story he’d rather forget.

*

“I suppose I got what I wanted, huh?” Peter says. His voice is quiet but it echoes in the dingy cell. Turns out, the last kidnappers weren’t finished with them.

It’s been too long since the kid’s eaten and he hasn’t stopped shaking for hours. He’s so weak, his healing has slowed to humanly levels. His wounds aren’t scars yet, still scabbing from how recent they all are, but Tony still understands what he means.

“You say that like I’m not busy planning out escape,” Tony says. He squeezes Peter a little tighter to his side, hoping he can transfer a little bit of his body heat to the kid.

“For the record, I think your scars show just how strong you are to have overcome the things you did and still come out smiling,” Peter says. His voice is slurring, and Tony worries they won’t be saved in time. “I think it’s cool.”

Tony rolls his eyes. Of course they’re having this conversation now.

“Listen closely, kid. You don’t need physical proof to show people you’re hurting. You don’t need to validate your pain. You don’t need to do any of that. Cap has the same sort of healing as you do, but he finds himself torn between the past and the present. He doesn’t need physical scars from the ice to prove that he went through something painful. And neither do you.”

Peter tucks himself closer against Tony’s chest, shaking fingers curling clutching onto Tony’s shirt. “I just wish, sometimes, I could map it all.”

“And I wish I was a blank canvas, kid,” Tony says, pressing a quick kiss to Peter’s forehead. “But it’s okay because at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is you and me, okay? I’ve got you and you’ve got me, right?”

“Course, Mister Stark. Always.”

“I love you, kid,” Tony says, voice thick with emotion. “Even if you’re a blank canvas.”

“I love you too. Even if you’re scarred.”

*

Lying in side by side hospital beds for the second time that month, their thoughts are in the open but it doesn’t stop the insecurity from flaring inside both of them.

Tony has stitches on his stomach, a new scar to add to his collection. Another kidnapping, another reminder of a time where he couldn’t protect his kid, another reminder to wake him up in the dead of night.

Peter’s wounds have healed now that he’s regained his strength. Nothing remained other than the freckles dancing up his arms. Nothing to indicate the pain that tears him out of his sleep every night or that reduces him to tears and breathlessness in a second.

One, a mapped-out expanse of scars, wishing he were a blank canvas. And one, a blank canvas, wishing he were a map of scars.

One day, they’ll learn to love themselves as they are. For now, they’ll love each other to make up for it.