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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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greener on the other side.

Danny makes a habit out of hopping into portals and exploring he places he ends up. It just so happens that this time, he ends up in Gotham right as the Signal begins his patrol. Duke meets the strangest, funniest, cutest guy on the roof of the Gotham City Public Library. He knows Batman would not approve of literally anything he’s doing, but sue him, he wants a meta friend and this guy seems to up for it. – OR: how Duke and Danny got together despite having secret identities and living different dimensions.

chapter two: how it grows - 10.7k

read chapter one here or the entire fic on ao3.

here's the duke pov! one chapter left from danny's pov, then this fic is complete and i can get started on the rest of the series focusing on their relationship! . . .

Duke doesn’t like to make a big deal of things. He’ll try to handle things on his own and roll with the punches. As long as he keeps his cool, things will work out.

Unfortunately, feelings are not one of the things that just ‘work out on their own’ and he has to admit that he might just need some outside help for this. The problem, then, becomes a question of who he can go to.

He’s come a long way since he was part of the We Are Robin gang and knows that he can rely on the rest of the Bats for help. He’s one of them, something that still feels surreal when he thinks about it for too long, but Duke has his place with them both in and out of the mask. He gets along well enough with Damian, trains often with Jason, bothers Dick for help when he gets in over his head, and makes fun of Bruce with Tim and Cass and Steph.

They’re good people and he trusts them. They’re messy, with lots of history and fights between them all, but what family isn’t like that?

They’re good people and he wants to ask them for help, but Duke can’t bring himself to go to the Manor. They’re all just… Some of the advice they give him for his civilian life is suspect at best. So instead, he’s going back to Jay’s house, hoping his cousin will have some normal advice for him.

Though he spends a decent amount of time with the Waynes, Jay technically still has custody of him; Duke doesn’t want to leave his family behind at all, not if he has any other choice, but he knows that looking after a teenager while being single and not having the biggest paycheck is stressful. Plus, it allows less time for any resentment to spring up between them with the amount of secrets Duke is hiding from him.

As unprepared for him as Jay was, he still does his best. He’s waiting in the living room when Duke arrives, dropping his keys into the dish on the side table in the entrance hallway. A bowl of popcorn and two glasses of ice tea are set on the coffee table and Duke gladly takes one and drinks half in one go before he even sits down.

“Alright, man,” Jay says, “What’s going on? You never ask me for advice.”

Duke sighs. “It’s, uh… dating problems? I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t actually know if it was a date or not and I need a second opinion.”

Jay gives him a long look. “Usually, just having to ask tends to mean it was a date and you just didn’t notice in time. You getting back with that Izzy girl?”

“No! We both decided to stay friends, and it’s not like we’ve been hanging out much at all since the break up. This is someone new.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Nah, he doesn’t live in Gotham.”

The smile falls from Jay’s face and he leans closer to Duke, suddenly growing serious. “If this is an internet friend, I’m going to have to lecture you on stranger danger. Come on man, I know you’re smarter than that.”

Duke shakes his head, pushing his cousin back into the couch. “No! No, no, definitely not! Do you really think I don’t know anything about internet safety? Not the point. The point is, he’s from out of town and he’s really cute and I spent most of yesterday just hanging out with him and took him to the best food trucks I could find. Was that a date?”

“Honestly? Sounds like it. Good for you man. Just make sure to let him know if you want the next one to officially be a date.”

See? Simple, normal advice. Jay is just telling him to communicate like a normal person. It’s not that simple, of course, since Duke isn’t going as Duke but as The Signal, but it’s still good advice. Once he finds the courage to ask Danny out on a proper date, he’ll do it in a way that leaves no confusion.

It won’t be any time soon, though. Not when they’ve just met and Danny doesn’t even know his name.

“It’s that easy, huh?”

“Sure is,” Jay grins. “How do you think I got all the girls when I was in school?”

“Is that also why you can’t get any dates now?”

“Alright, you little shit,” Jay laughs, throwing an arm around Duke’s shoulders to trap him in a noogie. “See if I give you advice ever again. Is this the thanks I get for looking after you?”

Duke can break free from his grip easily, but it’s been so long since he had a nice, easy interaction with his cousin that he just sinks into it, laughing. Time apart has made things better between them; there’s less stress involved with hiding his identity, and Jay isn’t worried out of his mind about raising Duke right while also making enough for rent and groceries.

“You staying the night?” Jay asks, finally releasing Duke.

“Nah, the Waynes want me over for game night and I really wanna see them try to kill each other. But I got a couple of hours until they’re expecting me.”

“Up for a movie?”

“Is it another zombie movie?”

“You know it.”

Duke shrugs. “Sure, put it on and I’ll try not to laugh too hard when you get scared.”

It’s nice and lets his mind finally stop spinning in circles, going over everything he can remember from his not-date with Danny. He’s missed spending time with his cousin even if living away from him is a lot less stressful. As great as the Waynes are, they can’t give him this.

What they can give him is chaos and embarrassment.

“Caught you slacking yesterday,” Jason says casually as he drops onto the couch next to him. Both of them watch as Steph and Damian team up to kill Bruce for taking all their properties in Monopoly, and Duke suddenly has a feeling that he should have stayed with Jay after all.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, “I’m never slacking as the Signal. I’ve never done a single thing wrong, ever, in my life.”

“Didn’t you lead a gang?”

“Didn’t you decapitate eight men?”

Jason pinches his side in retaliation, making Duke jump. “So, you pulling a Superman? Flirting with a civilian you saved?”

They didn’t go anywhere near Crime Alley. How did Jason just happen to stumble across them? He probably should have expected someone to have spotted him. None of the Waynes care too much for other people’s privacy.

“No,” Duke says slowly. He is flirting with a civilian, but Danny is not someone he saved. Danny is someone who helped him out when fighting crime, and is fun to be with. “I was just showing him around Gotham?”

Jason’s eyebrows go up. “An out of towner? Didn’t think they’d have the balls the stay in Gotham longer than a few hours.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not one to be scared away so easily.”

“And does this someone have a name? If he’s spending time with you, I wanna know his name.”

Duke side eyes him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Look, it’s good to keep an eye on any civilian that gets close to us. In case they’re a threat, and in case they get caught up in the bullshit that saturates every part of our lives. The longer they’re with us, the more danger they’re in. But I can help you look out for him. So: name?”

That is… a depressingly good point. Duke can’t save everyone despite how hard he tries. It would be good to have someone else looking out of Danny while he’s in Gotham, just in case.

“Danny. His name’s Danny.”

“No last name?”

“I don’t know it. Look man, I only met him two days ago. He’s a meta like me and he’s not from Gotham. That’s about all I know.”

“That’s it?”

“Again, we literally just met. If he decides to keep coming around, then I’ll learn more about him.”

Jason gives him an assessing look, then gives him a sharp grin. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be coming back for you. Boy was giving you doe eyes the entire time he was with you. Don’t drag him along too much, yeah? Poor thing’s got it bad for you.”

“He does not!”

“I’m not blind, Narrows. And I know you saw it too.”

That’s the problem. He did see how flustered and cute Danny was around him, always finding some way to bump into him or have their arms brush as they stood around, always sticking close as they soared through the air almost close enough to hug. It was cute, so adorable that Duke wanted to squish his cheeks and also lie face down on the ground. But it wasn’t Duke who was causing Danny to blush was the slightest of touches. It was the Signal, the daytime hero, and Duke knows they can’t build anything good together when it’s built on a foundation of secrets.

Danny’s got his own secrets too. Being a meta is only one of them and he’s not sure he’ll ever get to know those parts of Danny when the guy can just choose to never return to Gotham again.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to try. It’s stupid and reckless when they’ve only known each other for two days but no one has ever made him feel so normal before. Even in the midst of using their powers and hopping around Gotham fighting crime, there was a sense that they understood each other, that their lives rhymed and it made everything so easy and comfortable between them.

“And?” Duke sighs. “He doesn’t even know my name. It’s not really anything right now, okay? We just get each other and it’s nice to spend time with someone like that.”

“Want me to find him for you?”

“Please don’t.”

Jason shrugs. “Alright, your loss.” He looks back to where Bruce is calmly stealing Steph’s Monopoly money as she has her arms around his throat, trying to choke him as she clings to his back. Damian is trying to steal everything back. None of them have caught on to the fact that Tim and Cass have teamed up and have taken over the bank and are steadily taking properties on the board, fully and shamelessly cheating.

He’s so glad he chose to sit this game out.

Jason seems content with leaving the conversation there, so Duke cuts his losses and leaves before Tim and Cass have to fend off everyone else and turn this entire game night into a blood bath.

It’s not like anyone’s going to win against Cass anyways.

Duke fully intends to go up to his room and get a full eight hours of sleep while everyone else goes on patrol. He’ll take some time to think about how excited he is to see Danny again when he brings his friends over next week, but only for a bit. His sleep is so important.

Batman could never compare to how much he values his sleep.

He’s got good priorities, okay? He’s not changing them for anything.

Instead of sleeping, though, he ends up laying on his bed for hours, all his thoughts swirling around in a restless tangle. This is why he can’t ask the Waynes for advice on Normal People Shit. They just make him overly paranoid and sure that everything is going to go wrong.

Danny’s a mystery. He didn’t feel like one when they met; Danny was just an average citizen standing on top of a building, and the Signal had a duty to check up on him.

But when Danny turned to face him, his eyes were a bright blue, practically glowing, and there was a light emanating out of his chest, as if he tucked a star into his ribcage. No normal human looked like that, and Duke would know. He’s seen a lot of weird shit with his powers, especially once they started affecting his eyes even more, but even people who dabble in magic didn’t look like that.

Danny had looked ethereal. Unreal. As if he wasn’t from this world at all. Like someone who had stepped out of a story and into the real world.

And he was fun.

That’s what’s tripping Duke up. He’s met other metas before. They tend to either be 1) homicidal, 2) depressed and traumatized, or 3) serious and heroic. Sure there were some that had a sense of humor, but it was just to keep the mood light as they went around saving people and being more Hero than Person.

That’s what Duke had become, growing into his role as the Signal until he worried that it was taking away from Duke Thomas. The other Bats seemed to have no problem with their various identities, or enjoyed being in the mask far more than they enjoyed taking it off. Duke, as he usually was, is the outlier.

It’s why he always has to wrestle with imposter syndrome, forcing himself to stick around until he can finally feel like he belongs with the heroes of Gotham. He can act unbothered as much as he wants. It will never change the fact that, at his heart, Duke is still the terrified and angry boy sneaking out of foster homes and orphanages to search for his parents, refusing to find a place in the world that wasn’t by their side.

As the only meta on the team, his powers are both a blessing and a curse. They’re another reminder that he’s the odd one out, the one who doesn’t fit in as easily as all the others, but also a tool that lets him help in ways no one else can.

He always has something to prove when he’s out as the Signal. He always has to make himself worth keeping around as Duke.

With Danny, all of that fell away.

Using his powers was fun with him. They darted around the city, from rooftop to rooftop, stopping crimes and teasing each other as they went. There was no pressure to conform or prove himself, just the easy joy of feeling the air rush by him as he swung through the skyline, hundreds of feet in the air.

It doesn’t hurt that Danny is cute, too.

Sighing, Duke rolls over and shoves his face into his pillow.

He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he met another meta who wasn’t trying to attack him. Sure, he has other hero friends, but they’re either regular humans or not human at all. One day with another meta, just shooting the shit, enjoying their time together, makes him all too aware of how much he’s wanted something like this since his powers first manifested.

Jason said that Danny was down bad, but Duke’s not doing any better, honestly.

He can’t wait until he sees Danny again.

It takes putting on some soothing music and trying not to let all his thoughts drift back to Danny before Duke finally feels sleep take a hold of him and gladly gives into its embrace. . . .

The glow appears suddenly, a flash of light in the distance, and that’s all Duke needs before he takes down two muggers and zip ties their wrists together quickly. “Stay safe!” he calls to the victim, quickly grappling away as she glares at her attempted muggers. She’s looking rather violent, and if she wants to whack them over the head, then that’s her right.

Duke doesn’t need to worry about it. He’s already dealt with the problem and now he can make his way to Danny, falling into the familiar rhythm of catch, fall, and release as he chases after the cold star-glow of Danny.

He makes his way to the glow until he can see Danny standing on the roof of the mall in Diamond District. Duke stops a few buildings away, taking the time to catch his breath and make sure he’s in Signal mode instead of Duke Thomas.

Then, as prepared as he’ll ever be, he shoots his grapple out.

Danny and his friends are already facing him when he lands, eyes flickering between him and his grapple gun.

Duke tucks it away and offers them a small wave, giving Danny a soft smile.

“This is him!” Danny announces, turning to face his friends so he can do a little flourish and show off Duke. “This is the Signal, and he’s a legit hero here.”

A goth girl looks him over with an unimpressed gaze, then clicks her tongue in a way that reminds him way too much of Damian. “Too much yellow,” she says, “You should update your armor to be less… this.”

“Sam!” Danny says, smacking her arm. “Uncalled for!”

“What? I’m right. That’s way too much yellow.”

The other boy pushes his glasses up his nose and glares at Duke. “So you’re a hero, huh?”

Duke blinks and the sudden hostility, then nods. “Yeah, sure am.”

“And you save people?”

“I do my best.”

“Even if they’re not human?”

Oh, Duke realizes, they’re just being overprotective of Danny. It kind of sucks to be on the other end of it, but he’s glad to know that Danny has people that will stand by him. Being a meta without any support is awful and often dealy; human traffickers especially love to target vulnerable metas.

“Even then,” Duke says. “If anyone needs help and I can help them, I do. It’s how I got into the hero business.”

“Quit the interrogation,” Danny hisses, then turns to Duke with a strained smile. “I am so sorry about them. This is Sam, and this is Tucker.”

“Well, welcome to Gotham.”

Danny hooks his arms with Sam and Tucker’s, pulling them closer to himself with enough force that they stumble. “Stop being mean, guys. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

Sam sighs, then gently knocks her head against Danny’s. “Yeah, alright. We’ll behave.”

“ Thank you. Let’s hit up Wayne Tower first, then the botanical gardens and maybe lunch after that?”

“Sounds good,” Tucker says, pulling his arm free from Danny’s grasp just to hop onto his back. With Tucker secured, Danny sweeps Sam up into a princess carry, and all three look at Duke like this is something totally normal that happens all the time. And maybe it is! It’s probably normal for them and Duke is not going to judge them because he wants to make a good impression and not be a hypocrite.

He’ll just… not talk about the Bats and how bizarre they all are. Duke himself is not exempt from this.

“You gonna be able to hold them both and fly around?” he asks, just to make sure. He definitely doesn’t want anyone falling to their deaths while he’s leading them through Gotham.

Danny just offers him a grin, the tips of his sharp canines just barely visible. The glow in his chest gets a little stronger and his eyes flicker from blue to bright green. “Don’t worry. I’m strong enough to be their Uber today.”

“We’re not paying you,” Sam and Tucker say at the same time, then high five. Danny rolls his eyes, and Duke can’t help but smile seeing their little routines.

They must have been friends for a long time to be so close.

Duke makes a mental note to spend a day just hanging out with his own friends soon. It’s been a little too long, hero work and school taking up all his time, and though they understand and try to keep him in their lives through texts, it’s all too easy to slip away from each other.

Focus, Duke, he tells himself. Today is for Danny and his friends.

He’s the Signal. There’s no time for Duke’s problems. He’s got crime to fight and three teenage tourists from who knows where to show around Gotham. He’ll deal with his own shit later.

“I’ll lead the way to Wayne Tower then,” he says, walking backwards to the edge of the roof. Danny lifts up from the roof, hovering a foot in the air, and it’s so hard to look away from him when he’s literally glowing, eyes bright and hair turning white. “Also, just as a heads up, I may have to leave for a few minutes to deal with crime, but I will come back. Just stick to the roofs and you’ll be safe.”

Sam looks around, assessing the city. “Lots of crime here?”

“We’re called the Crime Capital of America for a reason,” Duke responds wryly and she grimaces.

“Well. At least the aesthetic is pretty nice. I’m digging all the gargoyles.”

“Wait ‘til you see some of our churches. Stained glass, dark stone, really Gothic. I think you’ll like it.” Then, to Danny, he says, “Ready?”

Danny nods, and Duke turns and jumps off the roof.

Behind him, he can hear a gasp, and then he shoots his grapple out and begins swinging through Diamond District, trusting that Danny is following behind him as they fly above the busy streets. And sure enough, when he flips off the edge of another building, Duke catches a glance behind him and sees the shimmer of an invisible Danny flying towards him, with two additional little shimmers that must be his friends.

He goes back to grappling through the streets, keeping an eye out for any crime.

“Come in O,” he says quietly, activating his comm.

“Signal, everything good?” Oracle asks, hopping onto his frequency within a second.

“Yeah, I’ve just got a few visitors I’m escorting around Gotham. Can you keep an eye out for any crimes that need my attention? Just let me know where they are and I’ll deal with it.”

“Sure thing. Who are these visitors?”

“Out of towners. One’s a meta and they wanted to do a little sightseeing, and you know how this city is dangerous for people who aren’t used to it. And with meta human trafficking…”

Oracle makes a small sound of understanding. “Yeah, best to stick close to them while they’re here. Good call, Signal. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if anything pops up, but so far, it’s all looking quiet.”

“Good to hear.”

There’s a pause, and then Oracle’s voice turns teasing, bringing more Barbara into the forefront. “Soooo,” she starts, and he can already hear the grin in her voice. “Making friends, Signal? Looking to start up your own team? It’s tradition, you know; we’ve all done it.”

“Nah, they’re not looking to join the cape scene. They just want to see the sights, hang out a bit. Are you looking for information on them right now?” He can hear her typing loudly, fingers flying across the keyboard. She’s supposed to be working in the library, but she’s also got her own office in there now that she’s the most senior employee. It would be just like her to pass off patron duties to the other libraries and bust crime rings from her office desk.

Zero separation between regular work and night work. The curse all bats and bat-adjacent folk struggle with.

“Who do you think I am?” Barbara scoffs. “If you’re making friends, then it’s my duty to make sure they’re good friends. At the very least, I can’t let you run off with villains in the makings, or cultists wanting to sacrifice you or something.”

“They’re normal civilians,” Duke hisses into his comm. He casts another glance behind him to see Danny flying off to the side. From what he can make out from the movement of the shimmer, like a heat mirage given form, he’s pointing something out to his friends. “And how likely is it that they are villains? I doubt anyone looking to hurt me is going to ask me for a tour of Gotham.”

Barbara hums. “You never know. Tim befriended Anarchy. And a couple of League assassins.”

“Tim’s a special case. He can befriend literally anyone. I mean, didn’t Jason and Damain both try to kill him? Now look at them. Thick as thieves.”

“He is something special,” Barbara agrees, amusement coloring her voice. “Say, can you tell me their names?”

“Who?”

“Your tourist guests.”

“Danny, Tucker, and Sam. Why?”

There’s a pause, even the clicking of her keyboard going silent. Oracle being stopped in her tracks is never a good thing and Duke is suddenly worried that she did find something that will connect the trio to some evil world domination plan.

“I can’t find them.”

“What?”

“I’ve run their faces through the databases, I’ve searched for people matching their descriptions, I can’t find any tech on them that I can hack into… It’s like they don’t exist. Digitally, that is.”

Duke lands just a block away from Wayne Tower, staring up at it. The glass glistens in the few rays of sunlight that force their way past the clouds hanging heavy in the sky. It’s taller than any other building in the district, overlooking Gotham all the way to the bay. He hears the slight shuffle of feet as Danny lands on the roof behind him and sets Tucker and Sam down.

He wants to keep talking to Barbara because he can’t recall a time she wasn’t able to find something. She’s ruthless in the pursuit of information, effortlessly hacking into even the most protected files, capable of finding people and vehicles and buildings and everything else someone might need for a case.

The fact that Danny and his friends have hidden themselves from Oracle’s all seeing eyes has him on edge.

He really hopes it’s nothing. He wants to be friends with Danny. He wants to trust him to be a good person just trying to live a quiet life as a meta. He wants just one thing to not blow up in his face.

“Here we are!” Duke announces, showing off Wayne Tower with a flourish. “I can’t get you much closer to the tower without people noticing you pop in out of nowhere, so you’ll have to walk the last two blocks to get to the building.”

“Impressive place,” Tucker comments as invisibility slides off of him. Sam appears a moment later, followed by Danny, the glow in his chest softening and growing a little dimmer.

“Wayne Enterprises is always striving for perfection,” Duke agrees. “Though, between you and me, I’m 99% positive that the only reason this building is as big and impressive as it is stems from Wayne’s need to be better than Lexcorp.”

“Lexcorp?”

“Rival company in Metropolis. Lex Luthor is the CEO and we all hate him for a lot of reasons.”

“I kinda want to pit Vlad against these guys,” Sam says, shooting Danny a grin.

Danny snorts and shakes his head. “Vlad has a cheese castle. I think he’s already lost.”

Duke is really interested in hearing about the cheese castle, but a quick glance at the watch hidden in his wrist gauntlet (put there only so he can dramatically check the time and leave with some insane excuse when criminals were complaining to him about their own poor choices) tells him that it’s nearly time for the next tour to start.

“Alright, folks,” he says, “You’ve got around eleven minutes to sign yourselves up for the next tour, so if you want to make it, you’d better get moving!”

Tucker swears, then sprints for the edge of the building. “Danny! Get me down there! I’m not waiting another hour for a tour!”

Danny rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling fondly as he flies over to Tucker and scoops him up. They both disappear over the edge of the building, leaving Duke alone with Sam.

“So,” she says, and her tone could be mistake for conversational if it wasn’t for the coldness of her eyes. “You’re getting pretty friendly with Danny, from what I’ve heard.”

Duke smiles nervously. This is the beginning of a shovel talk, isn’t it? “I guess so. I mean, I’d like to be friends with him.”

“How old are you?”

“What?”

“How. Old. Are you?” she bites out, walking closer with a glare.

“Why do you want to know? I can’t just be giving out information about my identity, you know.”

“If you’re not a teenager, then I am going to have a few knives sharpened for when you make a wrong move towards Danny.”

“Wait, wait! I’m still in high school! That’s fine, isn’t it?” He definitely shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but if one of his friends said they were hanging out with someone they don’t know outside of a mask, or a username, or whatever, he’d want to make sure that person wasn’t a creep. Her protective anger is admirable, really. And besides, he gets it. If telling her his age (or age range) will reassure her that he’s not going to… groom Danny or something, then he’ll tell her.

He’d never fault someone for looking out for their loved ones.

“You better be telling the truth. For your own sake.”

“Cross my heart,” Duke says.

Danny pops up through the roof a moment later, startling both of them, easily breaking the tension. “Come on, Sam, Tucker’s signed us up and doesn’t want to wait for you to get over there.” He picks Sam up, then glances between her and Duke. “Wait. Sam. Tell me you didn’t threaten the Signal.”

“Do you want me to lie to you?”

“I can’t take you guys anywhere, I swear…” Danny mutters, then flies down to the street.

Duke blinks at the empty roof, then decides that he’s just going to move on with his day and enjoy spending time with Danny.

He grapples closer to Wayne Tower, following Danny’s glow to make sure they get inside just fine. It’s only a block, but anything can happen in Gotham; better safe than sorry. As soon as he watches them go into the building, Duke sets a timer to display on the corner of his helmet visor and gets back to patrolling, keeping watch over Gotham while he waits for the tour to finish.

“Signal,” Oracle says, and Duke snaps to attention, landing on the next building at the end of his grapple, hopping down from the ledge with ease.

“What’s up, O? Got something for me?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to keep an eye on your guests. One of my drones picked up a strange reading that’s similar to magical residue.”

“You think they’re magic?”

“I think there’s something going on with them that we should keep an eye on. I know you said they’re just here as tourists, but you know we can’t take chances in Gotham.”

As much as he understands Barbara’s concerns, Duke can’t bring himself to be suspicious of Danny or his friends. They do have secrets, and none of them have even hinted at how they arrived in Gotham, appearing suddenly and without warning on a rooftop. But he’s always been one to give the benefit of the doubt. To try to talk things out, figure out a solution where no one needs to get hurt. Most of the time, it doesn’t work since whoever is causing problems really only cares about venting out their pain and frustrations through property damage and loss of life. Sometimes, though, the people causing problems need a little help, need protection, need some space to calm down and get themselves under control, and having a horde of Bats chasing them only makes things worse.

“They really are just tourists,” Duke says. “I know how you feel. I get it, there’s definitely something more to the three of them. But it’s not causing any harm right now, so I say it’s none of our business.”

He hears Barbara sigh down the line, but she’s always been good at respecting boundaries (when it doesn’t come to privacy) and will let people do as they believe they should. It’s why she helps out Jason every so often despite his violent methods and familiarity with killing. It’s why she has her own group and leads them without controlling them the way Batman tries to.

“Alright,” she says, “You make the calls since they’re your guests. Just be ready for me to say ‘I told you so’ when something goes wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re always right, O. Let me make my mistakes in peace, alright? We’ll fix it when we need to.”

“This is why you’re my new favorite,” Barbara jokes.

He makes to respond, maybe poke fun at some of the others with her, when he catches sight of two guys trying to break the lock on a bike to steal it from the sidewalk. Dropping down from the roof, he casually walks up to them, then clears his throat and shakes his head in disappointment at them when they jump and whirl around to stare at him.

“Really?” he says, judging them harshly, “Stealing someone’s bike? In broad daylight?”

They both flush with embarrassment, scowling at him.

“Well, we gotta get home somehow!” one of them says, kicking at the bike in frustration.

“Can’t you take the bus or something? Walk?”

“We don’t have any money on us for the bus and we’re heading to Robinson Park. I ain’t walking that far.”

Well. At least they’re just trying to get around and weren’t planning on selling the bike off.

“Two options,” he says, and both guys tense up immediately, prepared for a fight. He hates that that’s the reaction people have to Gotham’s heroes. As soon as they turn to a crime, no matter how petty, they’re prepared to be beaten down into submission. It’s a precedent set by Bruce that he’s never really liked and Duke does his best to embrace how different he is from the rest of the Bats to show the people of Gotham, criminals and all, that everyone can turn to him for help.

“I can buy a week-long bus pass for you both. Or, I can give you two a ride.”

They share a glance, slowly relaxing. “Can we do both?” one asks. “Get a ride from you and the bus pass?”

Duke glances at the timer in his visor. He’s still got forty minutes before he needs to go back to Wayne Tower.

“You know what? Yes, we can do that. Let me get you those bus passes and then we’ll get going.”

The two men share an excited grin, stepping away from the bike and its slightly mangled lock. They follow Duke to the nearest bus station where a little kiosk is tucked under the awning. Barbara, listening in as she always is, buys the bus passes for him, getting them to print within seconds when they get there.

“Sending your new motorcycle to your location,” she says as soon as he hands both bus passes to the men.

As far as Duke knows, he only has one motorcycle. He wishes he could ask what Barbara meant with new motorcycle without anyone listening in, but he’s gotta give the guys his attention, keep them company while they wait.

They make small talk for a bit, the two asking him what being a hero is like while Duke chats about life in Gotham and shares some Batfam gossip (mostly patrol blunders of one of them slipping while crossing the rooftops and eating shit).

It only takes seven minutes for the motorcycle to arrive, appearing in front of them in the street as the cloaking turns off.

“Woah,” one of the guys breathes, staring at it in awe. “Man, you heroes get the coolest shit.”

“Perks of throwing ourselves into the line of fire. Literally.”

He sees why Barbara sent him an entire new motorcycle (!!!) because his original plan of having three people squeeze onto the seat of one motorcycle was clearly going to end in disaster. This new one, Signal Yellow as it should be, is more armored, a little larger, and has an extended passengers seat attached to it so three people can ride it easily.

Duke swings his leg over it, settling into the seat and grips the handlebars. “Come on,” he smiles, inviting the men to join him. They do, nearly tripping over themselves as they get seated, excited grins on their faces.

It’s nice to know that no matter how old people get, a cool motorcycle is the way to most people’s hearts.

And what a change it is to see two men, likely college students in their final years, go from scared and unhappy people to acting like kids again, jumping at the chance to ride a motorcycle with a hero.

Small interactions like this, where everything goes right, is exactly why Duke is determined to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, a chance to choose differently and be good.

“Hold on tight!” He revs the engine, then takes off, the men letting out whoops behind him as they rush down the street. The motorcycle picks up speed quickly and runs so smoothly it’s as if they’re flying, easily dodging all the cars around them.

Normally, he’d go invisible and use the cloaking mode on his motorcycle to get around, but with two civilians riding with him, he’d rather be visible so cars don’t accidentally hit them.

The ride to Robinson Park takes fifteen minutes at the frankly dangerous speeds Duke was going, and he has no regrets about speeding because 1) it’s fun as hell and 2) the guys with him are clearly having a blast.

He slows down once they reach the park, then pulls over to the side of the road.

“Thank you for riding with Signal Wheels. Be sure to leave a review!”

“Five out of five!” one guys says as he gets off the motorcycle. His hair is a mess, completely windswept and tangled when Duke turns to look at him. “Holy shit, dude, I think I’d marry your motorcycle if I could.”

“Oh same,” Duke laughs, holding out a hand for a fistbump which is readily granted.

The second guy needs a moment longer to get off, laughing breathlessly. “Ten out of ten,” he says, once he’s next to his friend.

“Trying to one up me, huh?”

“Just being honest here.”

“Alright, well you two take care now,” Duke says, shifting his weight to one foot in preparing to kick off and head back to Wayne Tower. “And be sure not to lose those bus passes!”

“Thanks Signal!” they both call out as Duke heads back down the road, turning invisible as soon as he gets to a good speed.

He’s got just enough time to make it back to lead Danny and his friends to the botanical gardens. He cuts it close, but he makes it, pulling into an alley and hopping off the motorcycle.

“O, would you mind getting this back to wherever you piloted it from?”

“Not going to take your new friends on it?”

“Nah, I get the feeling they prefer flying.”

“You got it, Signal.”

The motorcycle pulls out of the alley silently, then heads down on road once cloaking is enabled. It’s gone just in time for his guest to walk out of Wayne Tower, trailing after Tucker who talks with his hands moving around energetically, too distracted to watch where he’s going as Sam and Danny pull him this way and that to keep him from crashing into other people.

Danny spots him first, after he stops and his brow furrows, a look of concentration on his face. Then his head turns and his eyes snap onto where Duke leans against the wall at the mouth of the alley. He grins, the glow in his chest flaring brighter for a moment, and Duke offers a small wave, unbearably charmed by how cute Danny is, especially when he’s so clearly delighted to see him.

“How was it?” Duke asks once they’re close enough to hear him.

Tucker immediately launches into a rant about WayneTech and the R&D Lab and how he would give his liver to work there. Then he starts rambling about technology and coding and a few of the things he’s created and how he’d love to look through what WayneTech does. He doesn’t stop even as Danny flies him up to the roof, Duke following after with his grapple, Sam clinging onto his back.

“So, so cool,” Tucker gushes, “I could probably take over the government in Amity with this kind of tech.”

Okay. Kind of a concerning statement to make, especially in the wake of Barbara’s suspicions of them.

Sam snorts. “You could take over the government in Amity now, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, I could.”

“Not that you’d be good at it. What would you do as mayor?”

“Create a steak festival to celebrate steak and all the meals you can make with it.”

“Oh you little—” Sam lunges at them and Tucker falls back with a shriek. And then they’re tussling on the rooftop, arguing about meat and veganism and the farming industry, which, what a subject change.

Duke looks over at Danny, who watches them wrestle with fond exasperation. “Should we… stop them?”

“Let them get this out of their systems,” Danny replies. “They’ve been having this fight for years. I’ll stop them in a few minutes, and then we can go to the botanical gardens.”

So they stand together and watch Sam and Tucker roll around the roof, trying to choke each other out. And all Duke can think is, Man, I can’t ever let them meet the Bats. They’ll get along like a house on fire.

Or, it’s all he thinks until Danny shifts closer to him, just a few tentative steps. He’s suddenly starkly aware of how small the space between them is, how Danny’s close enough to touch, how much he’s been looking forward to this moment since Danny left a week ago.

Boy was giving you doe eyes the entire time he was with you, Jason had said. Duke saw it, when he was with Danny, reveled in it, basked in the attention. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate, but he knows it can be hard to convey anything through his helmet, but there’s only so much action can do.

But it’s what he can do, so Duke shoves away his nerves and wraps his arm around Danny’s waist, pulling him closer.

Danny lets out a cute little squeak, cheeks filling with color immediately, and Duke is so, so endeared he wants to cry.

“So, what’s the story behind this fight of theirs?” he asks, leaning closer to ask his question quietly in Danny’s ear.

“Oh! Um,” Danny blinks at him, visibly flustered, and Duke wants to squeeze his cheeks together, he’s so cute.

Oh, he really is down bad. Damn. He hopes Barbara isn’t watching through his helmet camera, but he knows better than to expect her to not be collecting blackmail on him for this.

Which is whatever! Jokes on Barbara, he’s not at all ashamed of what he feels for Danny!

He could do without the ribbing from the rest of the Bats. They have no leg to stand on when it comes to relationships and being honest about their feelings. He’ll turn every conversation about Danny into improvised therapy if he has to.

“Well?” he prompts.

Danny glances at his friends, then leans into Duke and turns to him with a small smile.

“So,” he begins, then launches into a wild story from his freshman year about Sam and Tucker splitting the school into two groups to have a mini civil war over meat vs vegetarian food. Which lead to eating grass (?!) for lunch, a ghost lunch lady attacking the school, and the teachers having their own hidden meat lunch kept secret from the students, which lead to more chaos once it was discovered.

“That was a wild school week,” Danny concludes, just as Sam and Tucker’s fight winds down.

“Dude,” Duke says, staring at Danny, unsure if he wants to laugh or ask follow up questions. “What kind of life have you been living? That’s so much. The only thing we’ve got here is shootings and so much crime. Also a zombie in the sewers.”

“See, you drop info like that on me and suddenly I’m convinced that my life is actually pretty tame compared to whatever’s going on here.”

“No, no, listen. In Gotham, you expect this kind of nonsense. But your story started so deceptively normal! ‘Just a fight between friends’ and then a ghost attack? Betrayal from the teachers? Grass? Danny, everything you said left me reeling.”

“It’s not that bad!” Danny laughs. “The ghosts barely cause any problem anymore. They’re just kinda like anyone else, now.”

“What’s this about?” Sam asks, brushing her skirt off as she stands. Tucker pushes himself up to his feet and takes a moment to wipe the lenses of his glasses.

“The first time we met Lunch Lady.”

Sam and Tucker make a sound of understanding, nodding. “That sure was something,” Sam says.

“To think we were so young and innocent back then,” Tucker says with a fake sniffle. “So innocent!”

“You’re still as insufferable as ever,” Sam replies, taking his smack to her arm with grace.

“You two ready to head to the botanical garden now?” Duke asks, getting them back on track. Danny moves out of Duke’s grasp, unfortunately, to return to his role as their personal Uber, this time getting Tucker in a princess carry while Sam clings to his back like a koala.”Well. Guess Danny’s decided you’re ready.”

His friends snicker while Danny rolls his eyes and mutters about their unending arguments, then nods at Duke to lead the way.

Giving him a little salute, Duke readies his grapple, then takes off, leaping off the building to return to the skies. Danny follows him effortlessly, a soft glow that occasionally passes by in front of him playfully, sticking close as they head north.

The botanical gardens are a large spot of green in the otherwise urban landscape. It’s a few blocks away from Robinson Park, close enough that everything nearby is deemed Ivy’s territory, but far enough away that most people can pretend it’s like any other building and visit it safely. It’s been a long time since the botanical garden was attacked, or use for Villainous Purposes™, so Duke is comfortable letting Sam, Tucker, and Danny explore it on their own.

Plenty of other people are also in the gardens, from what he can see a roof away. And no one’s run away screaming, which is definitely a good sign.

“Oh, wow,” Sam says once she hops down from Danny’s back. She stares at the gardens with something unreadable in her eyes, as if she’s seeing more than what’s there. “There’s so much…”

“Poison Ivy—one of our rogues who can control plants and is doing a lot better these days, don’t worry—she takes care of most of the gardens. The greenhouse in the middle is hers for studies and experiments with plants, but she lets the public walk the garden. She’s even added little informational cards for kids to read so they can learn more,” Duke says, walking up to where Sam is leaning concerningly over the edge to get a better look at the gardens.

“That explains it,” she says, explaining nothing. “Do we have to pay to go in?”

“Just five dollars per person. It’s her income, and we’re all encouraged to leave a donation so she doesn’t turn to crimes to get enough money to support herself again.”

“Well!” Danny claps his hands together. “Let’s go, then. Jazz made sure we had cash on had, so it should be fine.”

“I can cover our tickets,” Sam offers, “Since this is for me.”

“Then I’ll cover lunch,” Danny says.

Tucker shoves his hand onto Danny’s face to push him away as he says, “No, I’ll pay for lunch. Danny, you’re not spending anything since you’re the one that scoped out this place last week for us. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it. Thanks, guys,” Danny smiles, then turns to Duke. “Would you mind waiting here for a bit? I’m gonna check out the gardens for a bit, but then I’ll be back.”

“Sure,” Duke says easily. It’s a quiet day anyways, and he’ll take any excuse to spend more time with Danny.

“Great. I’ll be right back!” And then he wraps an arm around both Sam and Tucker’s waits, picks them up like they weigh nothing, and casually hops off the roof.

Duke sits down on the edge of the building, watching as they cross the street and enter the botanical garden, Sam pulling out her wallet to pay for their entry. He idly kicks his heels against the wall, looking around the street, enjoying the rare Gotham peace.

No one is calling for help and Barbara hasn’t alerted him to anything. This is a good thing, but it doesn’t change the fact that Duke is bored.

He pulls out his phone, which he knows he shouldn’t have while he’s in the suit but it’s his day shift, he can do what he wants, and checks his friends (no Bats allowed) group chat and sees that Izzy is active. He opts to leave the chaos of the group chat to message her directly.

flashlight: hey izzy u know how we broke up

2(00)chains: oh boy. strong opening. but yes i am aware we broke up

flashlight: would u be mad if i started dating someone new or is it too soon?

2(00)chains: OMG DUKE??? WHO IS IT YOU NEED TO TELL ME RIGHT NOW

flashlight: izzy.

2(00)chains: babe u gotta give me something to work with so i can know if i should give u my blessing or not

2(00)chains: but also if u want to date and they make u happy, then yes u can date

flashlight: okay thanks!! wasn’t sure and didn’t know if it would be rude

2(00)chains: rude to date when ur single?? it would have been a problem if we were still together but that ship has sailed bby

2(00)chains: but duke PLSSSS i need deets. give me some tea… a girl is parched…

flashlight: lmao. so dramatic. but uuuuuuh

2(00)chains: little concerned by that pause there duke

flashlight: ok hes a meta

2(00)chains: ok strong start, u dont need to hide powers from him

flashlight: he’s not from gotham and doesnt live here so idk how well long distance would do

2(00)chains: duke. is this an online friend u’ve never met before.

flashlight: no!! i met him in person in gotham!! he’s just visiting!!!!

2(00)chains: ok ok go on

flashlight: uh

flashlight: he may only know me as the signal?

2(00)chains: DUKE.

2(00)chains: i understand the need to keep ur identity secret

2(00)chains: but PLS do not be a superhero love story cliche. im begging here. u didnt even keep it secret from me

flashlight: he may also not exist in this world (universe?)

2(00)chains: .

2(00)chains: u know i think u can make it work

2(00)chains: u have my blessing! if he says yes when u ask him out (which he better do 🔪) then i demand to meet him!!

flashlight: u got it izzy

flashlight: thanks!! u always got my back ☺️

He only has a faint prickle on the back of his neck to warn him of Danny’s approach, looking up through gut instinct only just to see Danny’s fuzzy glow fly up to him.

Danny pops into visibility a moment later, pouting. “I was hoping I could sneak up on you.”

“It’s gonna take more than that, babe,” he laughs. “I’m hard to sneak up on.” Bar that time Cass… and Bruce… and Tim… Dick, also… Jason, too…

Okay, so anyone who isn’t a Bat won’t be able to sneak up on him easily.

“Babe?” Danny repeats, his voice suddenly much higher. Duke freezes and takes a moment to curse his loose mouth; he and Izzy love pet names and still call each other terms of endearment even now when they’ve broken up. And since he was just talking to her, habit made him put his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah,” Duke says, committing to it, “Babe”

Danny makes a little whine in the back of his throat, face going red, and then his hides his face in his hands and floats up higher, curling his body up into a small ball. The movement reminds him of the videos he’s seen of astronauts in space, moving in lazy circles in zero gravity.

“Sorry,” he adds on, “I was texting a friend and we call each other things like that, so I just… slipped up. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” Danny mumbles.

“What?”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

Duke smiles. “Alright. Wanna come down and join me, then?”

Danny continues hiding for a few moments longer, then reaches a hand down towards Duke. He doesn’t look at him, shyly turned away, still red in the cheeks.

How is he so sweet?

Duke has never met someone so cute, and full of light, and literally glowing. He never stood a chance.

He takes Danny’s hand, gently pulling him down to the roof, wrapping an arm around him once he’s sitting to make sure he doesn’t go floating away.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, I was just… I really like hanging out with you and you’re super cool and I thought I should explain a few things about myself.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Danny says, resolutely. “First, I’m not from here.”

Duke stares at him. “Yeah, I got that. Kinda obvious after we spoke for the first time.”

“No, I mean. Really not from here. From a different dimension.”

Oh. So Danny’s just casually walking the multiverse, apparently, and chose to return to Gotham to spend time with Duke. That’s honestly really flattering.

“Makes sense,” he says.

Now Danny’s staring at him, incredulously. “How does that make sense? Do you not have questions about what that means, or where I’m from, or how I got here?”

Duke shrugs. “Not really. Listen, there’s a lot of weird shit in Gotham. Like, a lot. Batman was lost in time once and presumed dead until Red Robin helped get him back. There’s incomprehensible magic and time travel and so many aliens, dude. This is not that out of the ordinary.”

“YOU HAVE ALIENS?” Danny shouts, then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. And then, whispered, “You have aliens?!”

“Yeah, we have aliens. Some try to kill us and conquer Earth, some live here as superheroes.”

“No way,” Danny breathes. “Can I stay here forever? My dimension doesn’t have aliens. I really want to meet aliens.”

“If you stick around long enough, it’s kind of inevitable that you’ll get caught up in some crazy shit, and you’ll probably be able to meet Superman then. Or maybe Martian Manhunter, if he’s available.”

He watches Danny mouth Martian Manhunter in awe and is so charmed by him and his visible excitement about aliens. Most of this is just how he lives life, knowing all these impossible things are out there but have very little to do with him. It’s only mind blowing when he actually meets Superman and all, but that’s because meeting big heroes is like meeting celebrities and it never stops being cool.

“Wait, I’m getting distracted.” Danny shakes his head, then lightly claps his hands against his cheeks. “Okay, so. I’m from a different dimension. And Tucker has made a few phones that can work literally anywhere. But only to contact other phones he made for interdimensional communication. I had him make one for you so we could keep talking even when I go home, if you wanted.”

“I want it! I very much do want it.”

Danny grins. “Great! Perfect, okay.” He reaches into his own chest (?!) and pulls out a phone.

“Um.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can use my insides like a pocket dimension for extra storage.”

Sure. This might as well happen. Duke takes the phone and looks it over; it looks like a large, square flip phone, but when it opens, the screen and keyboard are both touchscreens the glow a faint neon green. He opens up the contacts menu, finds Danny, and shoots him a quick text that consists only of a smiley face.

“Man, this is so cool,” Duke says. “Thanks for giving it to me! I really am glad I can talk to you some more.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you for giving me the time of day.”

Duke knocks his shoulder against Danny’s. “Come on, man, don’t say that. Anyone would be happy to spend time with you. Besides, I’m really not as cool as you think. I’m a normal guy outside the suit.”

“You still have powers.”

“I do, but I’m not the only one.”

“I know this is a bit of a bad question, and I do understand how important secret identities are! But do you think I’d ever get to know you when you’re just… you?”

Duke thinks about how much Batman would disapprove, the lengths Tim went through to protect his own identity as Red Robin, how everyone around him would become a target if anyone figured out who the Signal is…

But then he thinks about how much keeping this secret puts a strain on his relationship with his cousin, how much of a relief it is to have his friends in the know so he doesn’t have to constantly lie to them, how he’s the only hero Danny knows in this dimension and the only person who can help him while he’s here.

“I’ll tell you one day,” Duke says, “Promise. When we get to know each other a little more, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright, that’s fair. Thanks, Signal.”

“You need to get back to your friends?”

“Nah,” Danny shakes his head, “They can manage on their own. Besides, they agreed to one hour each place, and Tucker’s hungry enough to drag Sam out as soon as it hits that hour mark.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t you tell me a little more about your dimension while we wait? Or any other place you’ve visited.”

Danny grins, leaning closer, and says, “Have you ever met a yeti? Cause I have.” . . .

He doesn’t get to see Danny or his friends off when they return to their dimension. They’d been in the planetarium for hours, and Duke had to end patrol and turn in for the day to look over cases with Steph and Tim, then work on his college application.

He does get a text from Danny, his new phone going off with a soft sound of a wind chime, in the middle of looking at different colleges and stressing out.

Danny: got home safe! off to fight dinner now 🤺

Danny: wanna talk more tomorrow?

Signal: sure! i’d love to!! good luck with dinner?

There’s a brief pause, and then Danny sends a blurry picture of a rotisserie chicken flying through the air towards a woman with red hair, holding out a steak knife, ready to attack.

…Yeah, he’s going to question that tomorrow. For now, he just sends Danny a thumbs up emoji and goes back to staring at his list of potential schools he wants to go to with growing despair.

Does he want to stay in Gotham? Gotham City University isn’t all that bad, and he’s familiar with the campus. Or maybe Montclair State University. Rowan University and Rutgers University don’t sound bad either, and both are still in the state, so he wouldn’t be too far from Gotham. Maybe he could go to his parent’s alma matter; UCLA and Penn State are both out of state, though, and way more expensive, even if Bruce offered to cover his tuition.

What would he even study?

So lost in thought, Duke almost doesn’t realize that his regular phone is ringing until the noise cuts off. His head jerks up and he stares at it, wondering who could be calling him right after he finished eating dinner.

Then it rings again, Barbara’s name popping up on the screen, and he lunges for it, worried that something’s going down in Gotham without him noticing.

“Babs! Is something wrong?”

“No. Should something be wrong? I was calling because you didn’t check in with me before you ended patrol, and you haven’t been responding to any of my texts,” she says, sounding distracted as the sound of her keyboard continues on steadily in the background. She must be working as Oracle already, preparing to assist the Bats on their patrols.

“Oh, sorry. Everything’s fine, our visitors were from another dimension and they really were just here to sightsee. Nothing to worry about.”

“I saw that you got a gift.”

Duke understands exactly what she’s calling about, now. He should have expected Barbara to fall to the siren call of new tech. “I did,” he says, offering nothing else just to mess with her.

“Duke,” she says, “It’s a matter of safety.”

“Just admit that you want to check out interdimensional tech.”

Barbara sighs, then says, “I want to look at interdimensional tech. Come by the Clocktower tonight and drop it off.”

“I don’t know, Babs,” he says teasingly, “I think Tim might want a look at it first.”

“I should have never believed Dick when he said you were well behaved. ‘The good one’ my ass,” she grumbles. “What do you want?”

“A favor to be decided in the future. No questions asked expect what’s needed to get that favor done.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll swing by soon. Do you think you could help me with my college apps while I’m there? I have no idea what to do or where to go.”

“Sure,” Barbara agrees, her voice warm, “I’d love the chance to big sister you. Jason hogs you too much.”

He does, and Duke doesn’t really understand why Jason gets along so well with him, but he’s not going to question a good thing. Street kids gotta stick together, after all. Even if neither of them are living on the streets anymore.

It’s nice to know that the others are just as willing to help him out, even if he works separate from them most of the time these days.

“Oh, and the phone I got from Danny has contacts already added to it. Please don’t text Danny or anyone else without saying it’s you.”

“That sounds like you’re giving me permission to talk to me.”

“I figured you’d want to talk to Tucker some, since he’s the one who built it.”

“Well,” Barbara says, and he can hear the smile in her voice, “Thanks for the permission. I’ll be sure to get as much information as I can from him.”

“Please don’t ruin this for me.”

Barbara laughs. “Oh, don’t worry Duke. I know how to be nice, especially with people you’re trying to impress. It’s Dick you should be worried about.”

She’s right.

Duke drops his head onto his desk with a groan.

“I’ll see you later, Duke.”

“Yeah, alright. See you, Babs.”

She ends the call and Duke sighs, contemplating taking a nap before he heads out. But that would mess up his sleep schedule, and he’s willing to do a lot, but not that. Instead, he flicks through his phone to the group chat with his friends, and sends a quick question about when they can hang out again.

He’s missed them. Seeing Danny with Tucker and Sam reminded him of how much he loves his friends and spending time with them. He should take a page from Danny’s book and spend a day with them, just catching up and enjoying their company.

And if they tease him about his crush on Danny, well, better them than the Bats.

#ghostlights #duke thomas/danny fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fic #my writing #its been months but the second chapter is here and the boys are even cuter than before!!#tbh i dont think ive ever written such a fast burn before #now to think of a name for this ghostlights series on ao3...

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vintagenahbi · 2 months

Text

Finding Out You’re Pregnant

Ot7 x Reader- BTS Reactions Pt. 2

V, Jin, RM, Jungkook

Summary: How each member reacts to finding out you are pregnant.

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, feeling overwhelmed

Authors Note: I honestly did not think I would get anyone liking the first part. I feel bad if I don’t post part 2. Thanks, you all! :)

Taehyung had been sad for some time and hasn’t been the same. I felt so distant from him. Every night I turned over to see him staring off in the distance. He would give me a small smirk and turn over.

I miss the nights we would stay up all night talking or showing each other funny memes that only we understood, but in a moment it suddenly stopped. I tried asking him what was bothering him; however, after a while it felt like I was adding on to the stress.

Bringing me to tonight. Earlier in the day I had my regularly scheduled doctor’s appointment and I found out that I’m pregnant. I have to admit I was excited. I couldn’t wait to be a mother- it was the timing that was not good. Tae and I had been trying for a while with no luck. Now I am pregnant. Some of it felt so surreal, but dreadful at the same time.

Click. Tae trying to open the door brought me back to reality. I had a task at hand that had to be accomplished today. I couldn’t procrastinate on this. It was important to me. It was important, right?

Taehyung walked straight past me and into our bedroom. I watched his every move from the couch. I knew if I did not speak now I would not see him for the rest of the night or at least for a couple more hours.

“Tae? Can you come here?” Without saying a word he walked into the kitchen and started to shuffle through the fridge. “I’ve got some news. I think you might want to hear it.” He continued to look through the fridge until he found the last bottle of his favorite drink.

“Okay? What is it you have to tell me Y/N?” For a second I felt small. As if what I was about to say was going to lead to a downhill battle. One I might not be ready for.

“Never mind.” I took a deep sigh. Tae began to walk back into our bedroom.

“I’m pregnant.” Tae stopped in his tracks. I turned to look at him. I could see his eyes widen. My breath kept picking up as he just stood there. I was nervous. I should have waited. I should have not said anything. I should have-

“Are you serious? Are we having a baby?” I saw tears start to form in his eyes. He rushed over to me. I saw the tears stream down his cheeks. He held me in his arms tightly. “Thank you.” He kissed my forehead and pulled away from me flashing that boxy smile. I wiped his tears away and started to smile.

“You’re not mad?” Tae looked at me puzzled.

“Why would I be mad?” I continue to whip his tears away.

“You’ve been so distant and I was scared that you wouldn’t be happy. We’ve tried so long, but we hadn’t been speaking much and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry it’s been that way for you. I was under so much stress that I brought it home. I swear to you I am excited and ready for this. All I’ve wanted is to be a dad and a good husband. I can promise you, you will never feel that way again.” He hugged me once more. “I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

Jin

The cameras kept flashing. Bright yellow lights nearly blinding me. Jin changed poses with every click. I stood off to the side, watching him get into his serious mode. I enjoyed watching him get this way. Once he was done, he went back to the funniest guy I know. He walked over to me with the most loving eyes. I could almost see my reflection in his deep brown eyes.

“How do you think it went?” He looked back at all the props. This was the first time I had seen him a little worried after a shoot.

“I think you did-“ I felt the bile start to move up my throat. I covered my mouth and ran over to the trash can near the exit. I lunged my body to the ground and started to throw up. By far, this had to be the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me. Jin rushed over to me and helped me up. I wiped my mouth as the sweat beads started to form across my hairline.

“Are you okay?” I could barely stand up before I jolted back down to the ground. I could feel everyone staring at me. I didn’t care at this point because throwing up was the only thing that made me feel better. “Let’s get you home.” Jin helped me back on my feet.

Once we got home I was starting to feel better. I sat down on the couch thinking about what I could have possibly eaten to cause this. Then it hit me. I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and opened my period tracker app. 27 days late. How could I have possibly missed this. I got up and grabbed my last spare pregnancy test. Jin followed my every move almost as if he knew the routine.

“Y/N do you really think it’s possible?”

“Maybe.”

Jin and I waited in the bathroom as the timer began to countdown. The phone went off and we both looked at each other. I motioned for him to flip it over. A smirk slowly crept across his face.

“It’s positive? I’m pregnant?” Jin shook his head yes. I got up and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a kiss. We were so excited, not to mention we both wanted to be parents.

“I am going to be a dad.” Jin got so excited. “We are going to eat so much food. Any craving you have I’ll get it. I can’t wait for you to get a belly. This is amazing.”

I was about to speak when the sickness started to start up again. Jin noticed.

“Need some privacy?” He asked. I shook my head yes and closed the door behind him. “I’m gonna be a dad.” I heard him yell. Although I was sick I couldn’t help but to try to smile.

I had not been back in this room for months. The yellow and light grey wallpaper, the wooden crib, and stuffed animals all in front of me. I looked at Namjoon and took a deep breath. I stepped in the room. I tried to keep my breathing under control. I kept watching Namjoon as he began to pack up the knickknacks here and there. We were so excited to have this baby until we lost it. Everything- waiting for their arrival and in a second it was gone.

After this we had stopped trying. The miscarriage hit us hard and we gave up hope honestly. Nothing was the same. It had been about a year and we were finally getting ready to face the pain.

Namjoon held up a teddy bear and smirked. I got overwhelmed with the thought of him being a dad. Him holding our baby and sharing memories we would tell them once they got older. I quietly walked out of the room. I had something to tell Namjoon, but all of this was becoming too much. I found out three months ago that I was pregnant and had been hiding it until now. I reached the three month mark and felt like it was safe, but I was scared. I knew this was our rainbow baby, however, I was still haunted with what happened last time.

I sat on our bed, waiting for Namjoon to come find me. I had to tell him regardless of how hard it was. Namjoon leaned against the doorway.

“Y/N?” I looked up at him. “I know this is a lot, but it will be good for us. We will try again. Have a fresh start.”

“It’s not that Joon. I’m pregnant and I am scared it will happen again. I can’t lose our baby again.” I didn’t even realize I had said the news to him.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Three months. I am so scared Joon.” I broke down uncontrollably. He sat next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I buried my head in his chest and let it out. He tried his best to calm me down. He sat there with me and that was enough. Once I was able to collect myself I told him everything.

“So, you are three months pregnant, but you hide it. Then why are we cleaning out the babies room. I don’t understand. We are going to use it, we can use it.”

“It’s a reminder of what could have been.”

“Y/N, it’s what is now. Yes, we could have been parents earlier, but we are going to be parents now. We have everything here so our baby will know they are loved even before we see them. It was a rough year for both of us, but we have something beautiful, we created to look forward to. I know you are scared and I am too honestly. You, me, and this baby are going to okay.”

I looked at him and knew he was right. We were going to be parents and that was the greatest gift for us.

Jung Kook

Jung Kook and I had open, honest communication in our relationship, but this time I was quiet as a mouse. I never kept secrets from him and I was starting to look suspicious. I had to be; in this case, I was pregnant with our first child and didn’t want to add to the stress while he was on his solo tour.

I knew I was being weird towards him and he was starting to notice too. The phone calls getting shorter and me never having much to say. However, all of that was about to change because he was coming home today. All of his suspicions would be laid to rest the moment he walked through those doors.

I heard the door unlock and darted towards it. I must have startled him because he jumped back surprised to see me on the other side. He squeezed past me and put his bags down.

“You gonna tell me why you were acting weird or…?” He looked back at me.

“You’re gonna be dad.” I flashed my best awkward smile and waited for his reaction.

“I knew it! I had a feeling you were. After that last time we you know, I knew there was no way you couldn’t be. Why didn’t you say anything?” He started smiling with his hands perched on his hips.

“You were on tour. I didn’t want to add to that kind of stress.”

“You come first, especially in a case like this. I’m gonna be a dad! We’ve got so much to plan.” He said excitedly.

“You aren’t upset?”

“No. I do wish you told me sooner, but I am happy. Next is you becoming my wife.” He kissed my cheek and headed towards the living room.

“Wife?” Jung Kook turned back around and smiled. I started to blush.

“Yes, my wife. I couldn’t imagine anyone else to spend my days with other than you.” I walked over to him and hugged him tightly. I started to squeal.

“I’m going to be a mom and a wife.” I couldn’t wait for our little family to begin. I could picture how great it was going to be. A new beginning for us.

[ I know it’s short :( , but I wanted to make sure I had both parts out]

#jungkook #bts reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts v #bts jin #kim soekjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts army #jin #namjoon

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whositmcwhatsit · 11 months

Text

Save Me

Written for the prompt: How are we going to solve this problem?

1976 Elvis in a leather coat for my beloved @vintageshanny This one got away from me, there's so much more to come!

@thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @missmaywemeetagain, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, you are the best, funniest, kindest and most awesome people.

The air shimmered and glittered across the tarmac of the highway, promising oases, lights and civilisation, all of which would turn out to be mirages, as Cindy had discovered after walking five miles in the unrelenting searing wind wearing cowboy boots. The lukewarm can of coke she had been nursing the entire way was bone dry now and she had to admit that she was beginning to panic.

It made no sense, this highway was usually jam packed with people heading to and from LA for the weekend, but there had only been a smattering of traffic heading in either direction, and none of the hoity toity rich folks had apparently felt inclined to stop for a dusty, sweaty woman standing by the side of the road.

No one at home would even realise anything was amiss before Monday when she was supposed to be at work. They’d probably call home to find out why she was missing her shift, and her dad would think she was pulling a sick day and cover for her, not knowing… God, she was going to end up being eaten alive by buzzards. She squinted up at the sky, paranoid that she could see shadows circling overhead.

The cream car slid through the glimmering haze like it was heaven sent, its gold-plated grille and finishes adding to the surreal quality as it sped on, looking like it was going to rush past her in a fog of sand and exhaust fumes like all the others. It was heading in the wrong direction anyway, she told herself. Though there was no wrong direction away from death by overheating and scavengers.

The sound of tyres skidding in grit behind her made her turn and she saw the car had stopped a couple of hundred yards up the road. She paused, surprised, then broke into an anxious jog, almost sliding over in the roadside dust, her boot soles worn to slipperiness.

Coming to the driver’s window, she hesitated as, instead of the usual well to do middle aged couple or family, she came face to face with a car full of men. They were all wearing sunglasses and, frankly, unwelcoming expressions.

“Uh, thank you for stopping,” she mumbled, her tongue dry and oversized in her mouth. “I was starting to get worried.” The moustachioed man at the wheel just stared at her from behind dark brown lenses.

“Where you headed, honey?” asked a soft voice in the backseat. She frowned, shooting a last look at the blank faced driver before side-stepping to the window behind. She blinked rapidly, sure that what she saw was the result of dehydration, heatstroke and probably the remnants of the acid she had ingested at the beginning of road trip yesterday.

“Uh, well, I was heading back to LA,” she managed, nodding her head in the opposite direction, “but right now I’d settle for a ride to the nearest town with a phone.”

“You got car trouble?”

“In a way,” she shrugged, not wanting to go into her pathetic predicament with him, of all people. She didn’t miss the way that the other men in the car were looking at each other, sharing some sort of communication, and it made her question how desperate her situation really was. Maybe she could wait for the next car…

“You know, my guys here think that we should’ve driven right on by you. They said you could be dangerous like one of those Manson chicks. You know what a honeypot is, darlin’?” She could hear someone sniggering inside the car.

“I’m not anyone’s chick,” she retorted, rubbing sand out of her eye. “And definitely not that psycho’s. Look, thanks for stopping, but I’m fine.” She stomped off, heading back to where she had been standing.

Wrapping her hands around herself, she tried to force her heart to stop pounding. She would be fine, someone would come along, a nice family with a dog she could pet. It would all be fine.

She clenched her jaw as she heard a car door click shut and then heavy footsteps crunch towards her.

“Goddamn, it’s hot,” said Elvis Presley as he stopped at her side wearing a knee length leather coat fastened and belted in the California desert. He must’ve caught her look because he hiccupped a laugh and glanced down at himself. “Well, the car has air conditioning… A-a-and not all of us can look as good as you do in little shorts, honey.” She snorted in spite of herself, feeling her shoulders drop slightly.

“Look, I was only teasin’ before,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses and jutting his jaw pensively. “You’re a good girl, I know. I can tell that about you. I have a sense for these things.” She glanced over at the car and the two big, older guys who were leaning against it, arms crossed to show off their shoulder holsters. “And them- Well, they all do and think what I tell ‘em to, so…”

“I think I’ll be okay,” she murmured. “I’m probably better off waiting for a car going the other way anyway.”

“You’ll be waiting a while, sweetheart, Highway Patrol closed the road about twenty miles that way.”

Well, that explained that.

“Oh God,” she groaned, bending forward at the waist and just dropping like a rag doll until her hair poked into the top of her boots. “Why is this happening?! Wait, if the road’s closed, how come you’re here?”

Well, it’s closed for the public,” he answered, like this explained everything. At her questioning look, he pulled a wallet from the pocket of his coat and flashed her a shiny silver badge. “I ain’t the public.” Her eyebrows knitted tighter together and, after a moment, she reached out and pinched his arm.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, this is just really weird. I had to check.” He smiled, but it took him a minute and he was still rubbing his arm like she had stabbed him rather than given him a little pinch. “You are Elvis, right?”

“Last time I checked, but keep your voice down, honey, I’m travelling incognito.” He gave her a wink and she found herself smiling even though she didn’t know why. “Now, look, let’s get in the car before I melt like a goddamn snowman and we can figure out how to get you where you need to go on the way.”

“On the way to where?”

“My house in Palm Springs.”

As she was deliberating, another fancy car pulled up alongside the cream Cadillac station wagon and a smaller, lean man with a moustache hurried out of the driver’s seat to them.

“Hey, what’s going on, why are y’all by the side of the road?”

“Just rescuing, er- What’s your name, honey?”

“Cindy.”

“We were just rescuing Cindy here. This here’s my cousin, Billy. He might look like a marble-eyed sonovabitch, but-” The other man, Billy, gave Elvis’ arm a punch, but even Cindy could see that there was barely any force behind it, and certainly nowhere near what Elvis retaliated with. Both men burst into laughter, though Billy’s seemed pained.

“I can’t ride with you,” she tried one last time. “There isn’t any space for me, your car is full.”

“Huh, you’re right. How are we going to solve this problem? Hey, Sonny, Red!” The two big men looked over, straightening. “You guys ride in the Stutz with Ricky and David. Billy and Jo are coming with us.”

“Hey, E,” the dark haired one started in a disgruntled voice. Cindy didn’t miss the way that Elvis’s face snapped towards him and whatever expression he had put an end to the complaint.

“I’ve been defending myself from little girls for over twenty years, man, I’m sure I won’t have any problems here.” Lowering his voice, he finished so that only Cindy and probably Billy could hear, “Don’t exactly think I wanna defend myself anyhow.”

Travel arrangements made, Cindy followed Elvis’s broad back on her way back to the Cadillac. She questioned what she was doing, wondering what he was expecting from her in terms of gratitude. Then she shook her head. This was Elvis Presley, after all, he was probably dripping in beautiful models, he didn’t need to pick up damsels in distress by the side of the road to get lucky. He looked different to how she thought though, heavier for sure, that leather coat seemed uncomfortably tight, pale too, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed. Of course, she was in no position to judge since her skin had acquired a new layer of dirt and dust and her hair was ratty from sleeping in the van the night before.

The car was deliciously cool as promised, and she sighed as she climbed into the soft leather back seat. Elvis managed to summon up a cold bottle of Mountain Valley spring water and his mouth quirked at the corner as she moaned a little gulping it down.

Billy and a dark-haired woman, who was apparently his wife Jo, sat in the front seat, leaving them alone in the back. It was quiet at first. Cindy gripped the glass bottle in her hands, savouring the cool surface against her hot, sweaty skin. She shifted slightly on the seat, hoping that she wasn’t marking it with her grime. It figured that she would finally meet her first famous person looking her absolute worst.

“So, uh, what happened to your car?” Elvis asked, turning a little so that he was inclined towards her. Her eyes fell on the three- three- thick gold chains around his neck that rested in the dark hair on his chest, disappearing beneath the lapels of his leather coat and the light blue tracksuit jacket was wearing underneath. She blinked and looked back up at his face.

“Well, nothing. It’s still at home back in the city,” she replied. “I- uh. See, I was out in the desert with some friends… camping.” She nodded, yes, ‘camping’. “And there was a misunderstanding between me and one of my friends. She thought I was into her boyfriend and she got mad and- They left me behind.”

“But you weren’t?” he asked. She was looking into his eyes, partially hidden by the tinted lenses of his sunglasses, and asking herself why the hell she was laying out the events of her pathetic life to Elvis fucking Presley. She lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “You weren’t fooling around with your friend’s boyfriend?”

“No,” she demurred. “No, he’s an idiot.” Elvis grinned and nodded, which somehow made her smile right back without thinking about it.

“You’ve had yourself an awfully bad day, haven’t you, Cindy honey. I, myself, have not been having a great day either. Kinda lucky of us to cross paths out here in the middle of nowhere, don’t you think?”

“Why are you having a bad day?” she asked.

“Don’t matter now,” he replied, giving her hand a quick pat. “So, where d’you live in Los Angeles?”

It went on like that, him questioning her and Cindy answering before returning the question back to him. Sometimes he’d answer, but most of the time he would just ask another question. She felt like she was being interviewed for a job she hadn’t applied for.

As the car drew up to a low, white Spanish style house, she was beginning to wonder if she might want the job after all, whatever it was.

Billy opened the car door and Elvis climbed out with a grunt, reaching out a hand to her. It felt like climbing out of a carriage, only she was the regular Cinderella before the fairy godmother had shown up, all covered in dirt and ashes. His fingers curled around hers, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand, and he didn’t release it once she was by his side.

“So, here we are, little honeypot,” he said with an endearing smirk, “come on in.”

Stepping into the house was like walking into a meat locker after the heavy, dry heat of the afternoon. She wanted to pause and bask in it, but Elvis still had hold of her hand and he was not stopping. He gave her the tour, introducing her to the cook, while the other men arrived in the black car and there was a flurry of activity, cases and bags being deposited in the foyer and quickly whisked away.

The whole time, Elvis was walking around, talking about views and telling her a funny story about the time a photographer tried to climb the canyon to get pictures of him in the backyard and he and the guys scared the man so bad that he dropped his camera down a steep incline.

“Bought him another one, of course,” he shrugged with a small smile. “Still, taught him a lesson about being sneaky. Can’t stand sneaky sons of bitches, just come and ask me if you want a picture, don’t- don’t be all underhanded about it.” He stared off out the window at the rocky canyon beyond and she watched and waited, wondering if she was supposed to respond. Finally, he gave his head a little shake and flashed a grin at her, looking at her sideways. And that moment was over.

“So, I’ve been thinking, Cindy honey,” he began, leading her to an upright chair by the window and gesturing for her to sit down. “About you having a bad day and me… And it seems like there’s more to this than meets the eye, I think what we have here is a touch of divine intervention.”

Mouth open, she parsed his words, trying to understand what she was being told. She didn’t.

“Ain’t no way we should have met, you being a little girl pretty much as far from Beverly Hills as you can get and me not going nowhere else, but somehow we did meet. I saved you, and maybe… maybe you can s- you can help me… too.”

“Well, what do you need help with?” she asked. He grinned his famous lopsided smile, reminding her that she was sitting in front of a musical legend, one of the most famous men on the planet, just like he was a regular person.

“Well, for one thing, I don’t like being on my own much and- and my date for the weekend kinda flaked out.” He huffed an awkward, endearing laugh. “You think you might wanna hang around, honey?”

“Well, I have to be at work on Monday,” she said dubiously, feeling a pang at the way he was looking down at her, like she had power.

“I’ll get you to work on Monday,” he replied emphatically. “I can promise you that.”

“But I don’t even have any of my things,” she murmured, thinking out loud. “I left them all in the van and-”

“I’ll get you whatever you need.” He raised his eyebrows. “Anything else? C’mon, while we’re on a roll, throw something else at me, honey.” She laughed, giving his hand a squeeze that he returned.

“Can I use your phone?”

“You got a guy you need to call?” he asked flatly.

“Sorta,” she shrugged. “My father- he’s sick and I don’t like to make him worry about where I am.”

“My daddy’s been sick too,” he murmured, “but he’s getting better.”

There was such determination in his voice that she felt like she had to nod back like she was convinced.

He took her into his bedroom, which she knew must look out over the pool from the layout of the rest of the house, but the curtains were already pulled tightly closed and it felt, if possible, even colder in this room.

“You can make your call in here,” he said, squeezing her shoulder as she perched on the edge of the bed next to the phone. “No one’ll bother you. I’m just gonna make some arrangements, deal with some things. I’ll be back.”

She watched him leave, pulling the door closed behind him, and reflected on the weirdness of everything that had happened in the past few hours. She reached for the phone, but stopped.

As far as her dad knew, she was camping with some girls from work. It had been hard enough to reassure him that she would be okay doing this. If she called him now and said that not only had those girls ditched her in the middle of nowhere, but that she had been picked up by Elvis and whisked away to this house in Palms Springs… Well, he might have the stroke that was going to finish him off, the one they had been warding against for five years.

There was a tap at the door and it opened before she could respond, but it was not Elvis. Jo, the woman married to his cousin, was standing there looking at her like she was a naughty child who had refused to tidy her room.

“What size are you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Size. I’m guessing a…” Her eyes flicked up and down with disinterest. “A six?”

“Four on the bottom half,” Cindy returned. “Why-“

“Shoes? What shoe size are you?”

Baffled and feeling a little bit harried, Cindy gave her the information she asked for, wondering if the woman was lending her some clean clothes or if maybe Elvis Presley of the famed pelvis, who reduced women to screaming, creaming morons with just a jiggle of his leg, had a special wardrobe for all his conquests.

“Okay, so you need to shower,” the older woman continued, directing her to a bathroom away from the bedroom. “Everything you need is just in here. Make sure you wash your hair, clean your nails, brush your teeth. Everything. He likes girls to be clean.”

What do you say to that? Cindy wondered, staring blankly as Jo repeated the instructions like it was normal, like this was an every day occurrence. To be fair, it probably was.

“Today is so weird,” Cindy murmured to herself as she stepped into the bathroom, holding the large, white terrycloth robe Jo had shoved at her. There were toiletries in a big basket, all brand new and unopened. Shampoos, conditioners, soaps and lotions. A toothbrush still in its packaging, razor, and hairbrush and combs. It was like visiting a hotel, an expensive one too, not just a roadside motel.

Turning on the shower, she spotted a little pink transistor radio on the vanity and she switched it on. She couldn’t shower in silence, she needed something to drown out her singing other than the noisy spray. Warbling along to whatever the DJ played, she did everything she had been told, scrubbing and rubbing and rinsing over and over until she finally felt like she had exfoliated the desert from her skin and her mind.

Wrapping the oversized robe around herself, she sashayed like it was a fur coat and she was walking past the velvet ropes at Studio 54, hoping to catch Jagger’s eye. She opened the bathroom door and stumbled back with a muffled shriek when she found a man about her age standing outside. He had shaggy dark hair and was wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, which she appreciated.

“You done?” he asked, eyes sliding up her bare legs like a snail leaving a trail across a rock. “You brush your teeth? Clean your nails?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she returned. “Yes, I brushed, I cleaned, I buffed myself to within an inch of my life! God!”

“All right,” he shot back. “I was just checking, because the Boss likes girls to be-”

“Clean, yes, I’ve got it.” She was starting to wonder whether it was Elvis or Howard Hughes who had picked her up.

The man directed her back to the living room, which was dim and shaded now with the curtains pulled across most of the windows against the late afternoon sun.

“Just wait here for a minute,” he said, closing the door behind him.

Cindy shifted from bare foot to bare foot, looking up at the low, sloping ceiling and the immaculately clean fireplace. Her eyes fell on the coffee table and the thick stack of bills placed neatly there.

She wandered over as if called, eyes bugging when she saw that the pile was topped with a hundred. If they were all hundreds, there had to be five thousand dollars there, easy. She thought about all the hospital bills that kept coming to the house, red overdue stamp looking like blood. Then she thought about her dad finding out that she had stolen money to pay them.

Sighing, she forced her feet away from the coffee table and stalked over to the couch, throwing herself down. Having a conscience could be a curse sometimes.

A little while later, the door opened and the man himself finally appeared. He was wearing a short sleeve light blue leisure suit and his hair looked washed and blow-dried. He didn’t look well, she decided, but she couldn’t decide why that thought had popped into her head.

“You look like you’re being eaten by a cloud,” he observed with a little smile, exhaling sharply as he dropped onto the couch beside her. He nudged his leg against her, but didn’t seem to notice, almost like he couldn’t keep still. “You get everything you need, honey? You speak to your father?”

“Yes, thank you,” she lied.

It was probably a good idea to make him think that people knew where she was, she decided. He leant back, stretching his arm like he had a twinge in his shoulder and then resting it along the back of the couch behind her. She had to work hard not to giggle. It was like being back in middle school.

“Why d’you wear sunglasses indoors?” she asked, wincing at her words as soon as she spoke them. “Sorry, that was rude-" He laughed softly and shook his head; his arm slid forward slightly against her shoulders.

“No, no, it’s fine, honey. I, er, have to wear ‘em because I got sensitive eyes. The light messes with ‘em sometimes, that’s all.”

“It’s not very bright in here,” she observed, glancing around at the lengthening shadows around the room.

“Yeah, well, I- I kinda need ‘em to see as well,�� he admitted, ducking his head. “Can’t see as good as I used to.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense.” His smile widened and she felt his fingers wrap around the top of her arm.

Sitting so close to him felt like sitting with her side to the Sun, he gave off so much warmth and also a sense of power, like he was the centre of the whole galaxy. He was stroking her arm with his fingers, and she could feel the rough end of his rings scraping the folds in her sleeve and she shivered.

He smirked and, despite the fuller face and the beginnings of a double chin, she could see the man who had made her feel tickly in her tummy during the Saturday matinees her dad had taken her to. She was looking into his eyes through the pinkish tinted lenses of his glasses, their faces drawing closer, when there was a tap on the door.

“Goddamn it,” Elvis muttered under his breath, probably louder than he thought he was. “Come in!”

Billy appeared with several bags, seemingly oblivious or indifferent to Elvis’ obvious annoyance.

“Here ya are, got what you asked for,” he said, lifting the bags.

“Well, just leave it by the door,” Elvis snapped back. “And why the hell d’you leave this cash here? You just throwing my money away now, man?”

There was a weird note in the exchange that Cindy couldn’t quite figure out, but Billy gathered up the money without argument and left, dropping the bags by the door.

“Families, huh,” she observed as he huffed an exasperated sigh, his round stomach rapidly expanding and deflating. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

“Yeah, so they tell me,” he returned, shooting the door one last look of annoyance, before turning back to her. “You know, I just wanted to say thank you, Cindy honey.”

“For what?” Grabbing a ride? Taking a shower?

“For staying. It’s real nice of you."

Her mouth twisted into a baffled smile as her brain puzzled over whether she had heard him right. He did know who he was, right? He rubbed her arm over the terrycloth sleeve and twisted towards her. Her eyes dropped to his lips and, though they looked a little dry, they were plump and inviting. Soft too as he pressed them against hers.

It was a chaste, sweet kiss, he didn’t even try slip her any tongue. Cindy never made it to a dance in her sophomore year, but she imagined this was what it would have felt like. She reached up to hang her fingers from his neck, surprised again by how warm his skin was. The hair at the nape of his neck was damp with sweat and his breath wavered as she ran her thumbs curiously through his long sideburns. They felt soft and coarse at the same time and she couldn’t explain how.

“Yeah, I think someone or something has put you in my way for a reason,” he murmured, eyes fixed on her lips as he pulled back. She could feel herself begin to broil under his gaze. He pecked her lips again, pressing his weight against her. “Let’s get you ready, honey.”

Elvis led her around by the hand like she was a cross between a little child and a delicate princess. They went back into the kitchen where he told the cook that he wanted fried chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner, reminding her that the gravy wasn’t thick enough last time. He turned to Cindy, asking what she would like to eat.

“Aren't I having the same as you?” she asked. Asking for two different meals seemed… rude, somehow.

“Oh, honey, you don’t have-” He ducked his head and smiled. “She’ll have the same, just a regular size, okay?”

The woman smiled at Elvis the way that most women smiled at him, indulgently and kind of wistful. It was a strange thing to experience and then to see.

“Okay, lil honeypot, let’s get you dressed and ready for dinner,” he said, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he led her back to the bedroom.

The bags that Billy had left in the living room had been transported here and Elvis gestured to them. She peered inside, finding a white dress, underwear, and even shoes. She hadn’t worn so much white since her mom passed and her dad had turned everything grey with a misplaced sock when she was ten. She hesitated, wondering if he wanted her to put on a show, to earn them, but after she had waited for several minutes, he lifted a hand to the adjoining bathroom and motioned for her to go.

Wavering on the white, naturally, platformed heels, she tottered back into the bedroom where Elvis was reclined against the pillows reading a book. He glanced up over the top and gave an exaggerated double take.

“Who’s this sweet lil angel who’s showed up in my bedroom?” he asked, dropping the book on the bed and clambering up.

He crossed the room to her a little unsteadily and suddenly threw his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She could barely breathe with how close he was holding her, his arms pinning hers to her sides, his stomach tight against hers, constricting her air. Even his thighs were hard against hers. She didn’t know what to do, so she lifted her arm as much as she was able to stroke the small of his back.

“You look so pretty,” he murmured, when he finally drew back, running his thumb over her lips in concentration. “We’ll get Jo in here to do your make up and you’ll be perfect.”

“I can do my own make-up,” she insisted, not wanting to be a source of irritation for the other woman yet again.

“No, honey, Jo knows how to do it the way I like it,” he replied, biting on his lip before leaning forward and kissing her, lingering on her lips this time, almost as if he wanted to deepen the kiss but lost his nerve. “I want you to look like you’re all mine.”

He ducked his head down bashfully in the way that she was already getting accustomed to, but this time there seemed to be more of a purpose to it. She glanced down too when she felt him fumbling with her wrist and she watched as he fastened a thick, heavy gold ID bracelet around it. On the front, Elvis was spelled out in large diamonds.

“There,” he mumbled, sounding self-satisfied. “Now everyone will know you’re mine.”

She didn’t know how to respond to this, not in a way that didn’t hurt his feelings, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. No, she was already feeling an overwhelming need to protect him, this much older, richer, more powerful man.

Jo didn’t really speak to her as she did her make up. Cindy could barely open her eyes with the weight of the eyeliner and mascara they had been coated in. She barely recognised the woman she saw staring back at her in the mirror, especially not when she lifted her arm to peer at the bracelet. Such a weird day.

The table was full of men at dinner, with only Jo and Cindy adding some much-needed female companionship. Elvis and the other men laughed and chatted through the meal, arguing and guffawing over old stories; stories that always seemed to feature Elvis doing something insane, dangerous and/or reckless and somehow getting away with it. He grinned at her at every conclusion, looking pleased with himself and she tried her best to look impressed and amused.

Cindy understood what Elvis had meant when he instructed the cook to make her meal regular-sized. He and the rest of the men devoured prodigious amounts of food and it felt like dinner went on for hours waiting for them to finish.

As soon as she put down her knife and fork, Elvis reached over and clasped her hand with his, maintaining that hold even as he was eating and talking to everyone around her. It was like sitting with a spotlight on you, seen but unseen, valued but ignored.

After dinner, Elvis led her over to the piano. A couple of the guys, one of the large ones with all the guns, and a small one, picked up guitars and perched on a footstool and the sofa around him. He insisted, though there was barely enough room, that she sat next to him on the piano stool. She leant into his side, trying to maintain her balance.

“What d’you wanna hear us sing, Cindy honey?” he asked, like she would be fine with that, like she would casually accept Elvis Presley asking for requests.

“Lawdy Miss Clawdy?” she asked. It was one of two Elvis songs her father had played her religiously on a Saturday afternoon when they needed to jump around and use up some energy.

“Aw, that’s so damn old,” he remarked. “Can’t you think of nothing from this century?” He hiccupped a small laugh, which his guys echoed far louder, but she could sense that she had upset or offended him somehow. Probably by making him feel that only his old songs were the best, she guessed. She had hurt his feelings.

“You should sing what you want to sing,” she said quickly, rubbing his jiggling knee. “Anything you sing will blow me away.”

The smaller guy with the guitar suggested ‘Love is a Many Splendored Thing’, but before he had even finished his sentence, Elvis was pounding the keys of the piano in the very familiar introduction to ‘Lawdy Miss Clawdy’.

Everyone who had ever listened to an Elvis record always felt like he was singing directly to them. That was part of his magic and charm, but Cindy now knew that that feeling was nothing compared to knowing that he was singing directly to you. Her face was throbbing with heat as the blood rushed there. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, clasping them in her lap like she had to hold in her vital organs or she would die. He frowned over the piano as he sang, but every now and again, shot her a look from the side of his eye, his cheekbones round and prominent as he held back a smile.

As the last chords of the piano faded out, he cleared his throat, making fun of how much higher his voice used to be. Cindy clapped, ignoring the eyerolls and looks of derision that some of the men were throwing her. She had never been able to get to a concert. They usually sold out in hours and there was no way she could skip work to queue overnight and all day. So this was probably the closest she was ever going to get to seeing Elvis live, and she was making the most of it.

“Thank you, honey,” he mumbled, angling his face so that he could kiss her cheek. He grabbed her hand that was still clapping and brought it to his lips, giving her fingers a soft peck also.

Forgetting all the eyes, the uncomfortable shoes, the skimpy dress that made her shiver in the air conditioning, and the mask of make-up she was wearing, Cindy ducked forward and kissed him. She almost missed completely, catching only the corner of his mouth, but he rescued her for the second time that day, wrapping his arms around her, hot palms against her back and turning his head, sliding his tongue in to brush against hers. Maybe he was right, they could both save each other.

#elvis presley #70s elvis #big daddy elvis #elvis fanfic #1970s elvis #elvis x oc #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #writing prompt game

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straightplayshowdown · 2 months

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Angels in America: In the first part, we meet Louis and Prior and Harper and Joe, two couples whose relationships are on the rocks: the former because of Prior’s AIDS diagnosis and Louis’s inability to cope with illness, the latter because of Joe’s closeted homosexuality and Harper’s incessant fears and hallucinations, as well as her addiction to pain-killers. The second part focuses on the story of Prior Walter, a gay man living with AIDS who has recently been left by his partner, Louis, after he could not cope with the physical and personal impact of the disease.

The Importance of Being Earnest: Two bachelors, John ‘Jack’ Worthing and Algernon ‘Algy’ Moncrieff, create alter egos named Ernest to escape their tiresome lives. They attempt to win the hearts of two women who, conveniently, claim to only love men called Ernest. The pair struggle to keep up with their own stories and become tangled in a tale of deception, disguise and misadventure.

Propaganda under the cut!

Angels in America:

painful funny surreal and down to earth all at the same time somehow, even without being a landmark piece for me personally w/ regard to queer literature

The Great American Play. The definitive exploration of how AIDS affected an entire generation of queer Americans in the '80s, and what it left behind in its wake. Those more eloquent than I am will be better at doing this play justice, but my sincerest hope is that the sheer significance of this work is clear enough to carry it all the way through to the highest end of this showdown.

honestly the peak of modern theater 2 me. everything i write and create is in the hopes that i might someday make something that lives up to the bar that angels set. it treats every one of its characters with such depth and compassion and the world it creates is so vivid and fantastic. and the context in which it was created will always be beyond important to me like i don't know how to describe how important it is that a play widely considered an american classic is about the aids crisis. she's the blueprint she's perfect she's everything

genuinely changed my life when i first read it. andrew garfield played prior walter in the 2018 national theatre version and he fucking kills it. it's 6 whole hours of joy and heartbreak and, most of all, hope. stan harper pitt!!!

This epic stageplay has become more accessible since its HBO miniseries adaptation in 2003. It is epic, intersectional, commemorative of a collective trauma that had been silenced for too long at the time of writing. (also Harper deserves to be as much a Tumblr Sad Girl icon as Lana del Rey or Sylvia Plath.)

The Importance of Being Earnest:

Queercoded love interest and Victorian dandies, what’s not to love?

Quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever read.

It's very funny.

there is a HANDBAG and it is a MAJOR PLOT POINT. jack pretends to be ernest because he's been doing it for ages and why not am i right? algernon pretends to be ernest to get a girl and also so screw stuff up. as one does. gwendolen and cecily have a REALLY passive aggressive tea party. this play slaps. it is so good. go read it and/or see it

“Nothing will induce me to part with Bunbury, and if you ever get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will be very glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.”

Lady Bracknell: “I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever. If it did, it would prove a serious danger to the upper classes, and probably lead to acts of violence in Grosvenor Square.”

Lady Bracknell: “My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality.”

Jack: “On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I’ve now realized for the first time in my life the vital Importance of Being Earnest.”

#angels in america #the importance of being earnest #round 3 #polls #the straight play showdown

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doppel-dean-er · 8 months

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fuck you it's another one of these. community characters and black mirror episodes because YOU KNOW WHAT? seaons 2,3, and 4 were good

Abed is USS Callister - OUGH my favorite episode. the crew being stuck would really resonate with Abed, both because of the bullying he's faced and also because he's stuck trying to figure out how to fix himself, how to make people like him; the characters in this episode are stuck being punished for things they don't understand, are treated as inhuman, and were forced to exist just to be tormented and they most of all just want out. when they finally do get out, it parallels Abed finding happiness at Greendale and away from his father and his bullies. Abed wouldn't stop thinking about "I wanted to say all that... but you threw my son out of an airlock, so fuck you to death" for WEEKS (just like me. rip Walton)

Troy is striking vipers - IM SO FUNNY this is the funniest episode in the entire show and if you haven't seen it i can't spoil it because watching it for the first time is a SURREAL experience. my brother described this episode as "what if gay?" and i think that's what 90% of Troy fans also think about 90% of the time so it couldn't be anything other than striking vipers im NOT SORRY. if you want a serious answer to this I guess he could also be playtest because the guy in the episode has the same vibes as Troy but very muted. watch striking vipers it's so funny it will leave you so confused

Annie is San Junipero - lesbians. I wish there was more of an explanation for why Annie would be San Junipero but I'm afraid it is just the lesbians. also, the main girl being unwilling to accept her identity is just SO Annie. I feel like she has this fantasy in her mind that one day she'll get to run off with the girl man of her dreams and life forever in a heaven-like dream state -- she would absolutely go into San Junipero if she could, and she would never admit that, but she would.

Britta is The National Anthem - I also don't have much of an explanation for this one. guy fucks a pig on live television and you're telling me Britta Perry's not all over that? i think she would miss the point until the last few minutes when we get the shots of the crowds watching in horror and the empty streets (which by the way, fucking tore me apart) it kind of reflects her politics being super performative, she wants to do something good and meaningful that makes a difference and a statement, but she would never go through with it. she would think she wants to watch a politician fuck a pig because it's 'what he deserves' and is 'an up-yours to the system', but then she's watching it for hours and suddenly it's not funny anymore.

Shirley is nosedive - this one is just pulling from the show. the meow meow beenz episode is the same as nosedive beat by beat. it speaks to her holier-than-thou attitude, literally just watch the meow meow beenz episode it's the same

Jeff is White Christmas - i could go on for so long. first of all, John Hamm just has winger-if-he-was-a-better-person vibes, and this character accentuates that perfectly. I don't even know how to describe it, if you've seen it, you get it. I also think that the ending could be one of Jeff's biggest fears: ostracization. he's constantly trying to both fit in and make himself a distinct individual, but being so distinct that everyone sees him as a red mass and stays away from him would be terrifying, that man could not handle that kind of embarrassment

#community #community nbc #nbc community #trobed #abed nadir #troy barnes #jeff winger #annie edison #britta perry #shirley bennett #black mirror

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linnamonrolls0 · 2 years

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Gilded: All That Glitters

Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary:

Your invitation to the Met Gala was straight out of a fairytale: a starry night, a beautiful dress, a million spotlights - and a certain charming co-chair in a coattail tux who unexpectedly swept you off your feet...

- Once upon a time, two grown-up theatre kids crossed paths at adult prom and made the absolute best of it. -

Rating: Mature (mild smut warning)

Words: 7611 (oops, I be dreamin')

Spotify playlist link, for when you get there

2022 - New York City

The first Monday in May.

You hadn’t exactly expected that to mean anything more than an ordinary date on your ever-expanding calendar, but now there you were, unable to believe your eyes as you sat in a gleaming suite at The Mark. Surrounded by a dizzying flurry of people wafting in and out of the room, you still struggled to come to terms with your newfound celebrity status.

Truly, everything had seemed surreal since the release of your debut movie late last year.

You’d gotten a silver-screen debut people only ever dreamt of: after years of fruitless West End auditions, you had been catapulted straight from community theatre to a Hollywood starring role, and though your film hadn’t been predicted to score, it carved its own path as a runaway success. With that came critical acclaim and mass popularity alike, and overnight you went from your survival job as a checkout clerk to walking red carpets with Hollywood’s A-List across the pond.

All that glittered certainly couldn’t be gold, but there was no denying it: with great success came its fair share of gilded glamour. Speaking of which, tonight you were invited to the Met Gala. You knew the stakes were high - the coveted event would be the fashion spectacle of the year, everyone who was anyone would be in attendance, and as a debutant you hoped to turn heads without causing an off-theme uproar. You knew the fashion critics and their online community were nothing if not harsh, ripping apart every gala attendee whilst they sat behind screens in their pyjamas; being new to the spotlight, hate and negative comments online took their toll on you when you read them, and you tended to avoid them as much as you could. But there was no escaping the attention tonight.

Thankfully, you had a strong team behind you that absolutely came through. They had hooked you up with a dream designer and getting ready was a total whirlwind. Thanks to the wonders that were your publicists, stylists and your glam team, before you knew it you were red carpet ready in a striking black and gold ball gown with a long train, sweet and sexy but just rough enough around the edges in keeping with the theme. It was perfect, and though your pre-appearance nerves were killing you, you felt like a real-life Disney princess.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the walk. As you emerged, clamour broke out amongst the photographers and the flashes nearly blinded you as you swept your gaze over the sea of cameras, remembering everything you’d been taught about high profile red carpet etiquette: shoulders back, get your angles right, let them only see your good side, pretend someone has just told you the world’s funniest joke and give them the most genuine big smile you can muster…

Four more steps and one dramatic hair flip later, a couple of assistants were on hand to help with the train of your dress as you made your way towards the legendary Met Steps. All the way up, you continued to flash the cameras what you hoped was a showstopping smile, but really, all you did was pray you would make it up the steps without falling over. If you were honest, your ‘gala prep’ had included running up and down the stairs to your third-floor walk-up flat in the highest heels you owned - and clearly it had helped, because now you were up there and everything was going perfectly.

(Or so you convinced yourself, anyway.)

The Vogue team immediately pulled you aside for a couple of interviews on your way in, and you found yourself making every effort not to seem too starstruck as you explained the detailing of your dress to Vanessa Hudgens (holy High School Musical hell?!) before making your way into the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

You had always wondered what actually happened at this Gala, forever imagined it to be just a huge high-profile celebrity fashion fest. Now you’d been told the evening would entail a tour of the new exhibition, a musical performance, some speeches and a dinner, but that really was all you knew so far.

Aya, your head publicist, was tasked with the responsibility of escorting you through the event, and she was thankfully privy to your predicament as a first-time attendee. She gently reminded you that as a guest, you needed to be introduced to the Chairs of the Gala, and the event was an unspoken networking opportunity to befriend practically anybody you wanted to speak to. You let her lead the way as she pattered on her phone - not hers, but a device exclusively for the event, she explained. Her main role had really been to make sure you were in the right place at the right time throughout your promo tours and award circuits, but she knew this event inside out and you were thankful for her patience and understanding of how nervous you were as she guided you through it.

As you entered the Great Hall, your eyes widened when you saw Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, in all their gorgeous glory, her copper-patinated dress catching the eye of every passer-by as the couple chatted away with - holy crap, is that Katy Perry and Lizzo? Since when is that a thing? You surreptitiously stared as the two women strutted out to one of the galleries, and upon some urging from Aya, you tiptoed over to the co-hosting couple and nervously said hello.

You began to introduce yourself, but Blake cut you short. “Sweetheart, we know who you are!” she said, flashing her signature dazzling smile - there was no denying the woman’s screen presence, but you could swear she actually sparkled in real life.

“Oh my god, you do?” you blurted out. Honestly, the fact that people you’d admired forever knew of you was one thing you still struggled to wrap your head around.

“Of course! Congratulations on your Met debut; you look wonderful,” Ryan remarked.

You thanked them with a shy smile and, seeing it as your only opportunity to do so, showered them with a barrage of compliments on how lovely they looked. The couple were positively charmed and it took both your publicists to cut in, reminding you all that there were other places to go and other people to meet.

You exited the hall and bumped straight into a couple of fellow cast members from your multi-award-winning move; Emma Stone and Regé-Jean Page were far more well-known than you, but they made you feel welcome and for that you were endlessly grateful. You joined them in socialising with even more beautiful people amongst all the extravagance of the evening and your fascination with everyone’s themed revelry. The list was endless. Between the blur that was meeting the legendary Anna Wintour, being positively awestruck by an endless list of Met-mythical wonders, and a few hilariously out-of-tone jokes by some questionable comedians as the Biebers were outshone when the Kardashian clan trotted in with their entourage of partners, you began to doubt if the whole event was just one long fever dream, worrying you’d wake up in your tiny unglamorous studio back home any second now.

You felt a little more at ease in familiar company with your costars by your side as you made your way through the Costume Institute, casting your eyes over the exhibition. It was all incredibly overwhelming and you made a mental note to come back on some quiet afternoon to actually check out the pieces on display - because goodness knew that was the last thing you could focus on today.

Even your costars’ costars had you starstruck when soon enough the Duke of Hastings spotted his Duchess across the room and excused himself to go say hello and a certain Spiderman whisked his sometime sweetheart away, leaving you deserted for a moment as you waited for Aya to return from wherever she’d zipped off to. You rolled your eyes at everyone’s frivolity - granted, there were a fair few pretty boys and dashing men at this event, but romance was the last thing on your mind when running in these star-studded circles. So you looked around for a sign, still a fish out of water, figuring out where the tide would take you next.

That was when you saw him.

His million-watt smile was the first thing you noticed as he stood beside an obscure exhibit, engrossed in a conversation with an old friend.

Lin-Manuel Miranda. Who’d ever have thought?

You knew he was one of the co-chairs of the event, and having already met the others, that wouldn’t be a terrible excuse to talk to him. You had seen him around, and originating as a theatre kid you knew exactly who and what this man was. You’d never really paid much mind to this side of him, though - if you ever thought of him (which, honestly, didn’t happen often) you still pictured long hair, fast-paced Broadway rap and this was the dude that wore jeans to the freaking White House! But tonight, he looked every bit the part of a Met Gala co-chair, and his sharp coattail tux somewhat reminded you of a charming Disney prince.

Wait, what?

You wondered where that thought had suddenly come from, but you weren’t afforded the luxury of lingering on it. Aya snuck through the various groups of guests gathered around the gallery and found you again, shoving a cold champagne flute into your hands despite your protests. And just like that, she began escorting you around the room to meet a few more famous faces, some familiar, others starstruck-inducingly new. Forcing down your nerves with some bubbly, you faked breezing through celebrity small talk like a Met veteran, covering every trace of the shaky newcomer you truly were as you exchanged smooth pleasantries with everyone you crossed paths with. You quickly learnt compliments were the currency of the evening, and you spent them lavishly.

With only a few people left to meet, Aya finally nudged you over in their direction and you successfully floated through another round of networking, and somewhere in all this you found yourself face-to-face with Lin-Manuel himself. He welcomed you with a kind smile, you greeted him politely and introduced yourself as you’d become accustomed to doing all evening. You weren’t about to become complacent, though everyone seemed to know of you already - and in that respect, he was no different. You’d been drifting in parallel circles while you were both in LA during the whirlwind awards season earlier in the year, but somehow you had never formally met until now.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said. Though enthusiastic and excitable, he spoke with a certain softness, and you had to keep yourself from swooning as he grasped your hand, eyes briefly meeting yours for permission - when you looked back at him with a demure smile, he gently brushed his lips over the back of your hand. You tried to level your breathing.

“Likewise, Lin-Manuel.” You blushed as he released your hand, standing to his full height again.

Maybe you had really been transported back to the Gilded Age, for this meeting was certainly out-of-place in this era.

“Please, call me Lin. And if I may… You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! You don’t look so bad yourself,” you remarked lightly, earning a soft chuckle from him as you trailed your gaze over him. There was a certain royal quality about his look; it was like he’d walked straight out of a fairytale.

“Thanks! Dressing up isn’t exactly my forte, so…”

“Of course, and congratulations on… this!” You exhaled, gesturing to the grandeur that surrounded you. “You’re probably sick of hearing this, but honestly, Tick Tick Boom was the best movie I saw last year,” you complimented, meaning every word. You’d had a crazy few months and lacked the time to watch most of the movies that had come out, but you’d caught his directorial debut at a festival where your film was also being screened and it was definitely up there with your favourites.

“I appreciate that,” he said sincerely - though he sounded modest, you could tell he enjoyed the praise. He continued, “I could say the same. You’ve probably been hearing this all night, but congratulations on your Oscar! For a feature debut, that’s a pretty mean feat.”

“Thank you,” you smiled with gratitude, “Though I still believe you and Bruno were royally robbed!”

Lin laughed at your joke, a heartwarming symphony that you somewhat still wished you could hear again. Humbly, he continued, “Ah, it’s all good. Just knowing that the world is still talking about it is enough of a reward, ‘cause honestly I didn’t expect any of that.”

“I get that.” You nodded, raising your glass, “To the unexpected, then!”

“To everything unexpected.” He clinked his glass against yours with the sweetest little smile playing on his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. There was something infectious about his positive energy, because until now you’d been feigning your camera smile for the inevitable photographs, but in this moment you were actually unabashedly beaming.

You risked a small sip of your champagne, meeting his eyes over the rim of the flute. “I kinda still can’t believe all this is happening,” you giggled, gazing around the room in disbelief.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth for a split second before agreeing with you, “I know, right? It’s like some kind of crazy adult prom…”

“Exactly! How did you end up hosting this thing anyway?” you wondered aloud.

But before he could elaborate, his publicist politely interrupted. “Lin, we should…” The guy gestured to the other side of the hall.

“Duty calls,” Lin nodded, turning to you again, “It’s a long story, but I promise I’ll find you and tell you the whole thing!”

You smiled. “Alright. I’ll catch you later!”

As he stepped away, following his publicist to who-knew-where, he turned and shot you a quick wink before venturing out towards the hall. You sighed, your gaze following him out of your sight…

—————

The event was truly unlike anything you’d ever seen before. As the seated proceedings began, you watched on in wonder, while your publicist (read: babysitter) reminded you to eat some of the ridiculously decadent food so you wouldn’t collapse.

But strangely, you couldn’t take your eyes off of that rather charming, intelligent man on the other side of the room. Even whilst he took his place on the podium, expertly delivering a well-written speech, you could feel his gaze wander back to you, which made you oddly nervous. He’d immediately look away when he saw you’d noticed, but it was clear as day. You averted your eyes for a moment during the musical performances, but when your gaze fell upon Lin again, now seated at his table at the very front, you realised he was still looking right back at you. Even from across the vast hall you could pick up that little glint of appreciation in his eyes, and gilded glamour be damned, you truly felt like a million bucks and then some. After you’d caught him one time too many, he made no effort to hide, and neither did you.

Once the meal was over and done with, Lin immediately stood up and you watched as he strode across the hall in your direction. You panicked and quickly struck up a conversation with Ariana DeBose, seated beside you. You were well aware that Lin and Ariana knew each other, but you needed a not-so-blatant cover and that was the best you could do.

“Hey,” Lin’s smooth voice interrupted you as you sensed his presence behind you, “Is this seat taken?” He gestured to the empty chair on the other side of you, and for a second you wondered why the hell Simone Ashley had chosen that particular moment to disappear, leaving her seat conveniently empty.

“Nope, join us!” Ariana invited him, and that was all he needed to pull up the chair and do exactly that. “What, was the hosting crowd too basic for you?” she joked.

“God, no, they’re great! I just… thought I’d come say hi! So, hi,” he said sweetly. Ariana laughed, whilst your curiosity continued to grow. Giving you a gentle nudge, Lin murmured, just about loud enough for you to hear, “I think I owe you a story…”

“Go on? I think I have time,” you teased.

“Walk with me?” he proposed. He was blatantly flirting - you shot him a mildly incredulous look, though judging by the innocence with which he asked, you’d be lying to yourself if you thought you’d say no. You nodded.

Ariana raised her eyebrows when she noticed you and Lin rising from your seats, silently interrogating the two of you. In unison, you both shook your heads in comical denial - and you wanted to say something to justify yourselves, but instead you followed Lin across the hall.

“Where are we going?” you asked, more intrigued than wary.

“I… actually don’t know,” Lin confessed with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Outside?”

“Honestly I’d love to, but the designers and my stylists would kill me if I ruined this thing!” You gestured to your dress - which you couldn’t quite believe was yours, even just for tonight. You’d be in trouble if anything went wrong with it.

His appreciative once-over didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Mine too. But let’s say we throw caution to the wind and go anyway… Who can stop us?” He smirked.

“Who can stop us?” you repeated, in a sort of amused disbelief. But then reality struck you, and you questioned naively, “But what if someone sees us?”

“I’m pretty sure every reporter in town is stationed solid either outside The Met or The Mark. And the perks of co-chairing… We have a back exit here.” He knew what he was doing; you nodded, reasonably impressed. “Would you trust me?” Lin asked earnestly.

How could you trust him? Why would you trust him? For all intents and purposes he was virtually a stranger, and for you to be so enchanted by him…

And yet… something about the honesty in his eyes and the warmth in his smile compelled you to link your arm through his, whispering your assent. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

So, arm-in-arm, off you went through to the opposite end of the Met, fleeing the Gala in a blur of coattails and dress trains as you hastened for this undisclosed back exit. Sneaking away from the glamour of the party was easy enough; practically all the other attendees were still in the Great Hall, leaving you with a clear getaway route.

—————

Central Park seemed to be deserted, and with good reason. It had gotten dark outside and the temperature had taken a post-sunset drop, leaving a slight chill in the air as you escaped to a quiet walkway, lit only by the gentle glow of streetlamps lining the path.

True to his word, as you strolled along the path together, Lin narrated the tale of how he’d come to receive an invite to host this major fashion-focused event despite being turned into an unfashionable meme in recent history (so you were right, White House Jeans Dude was a real joke). You found yourselves going off on other tangents far too often and it took him much longer than necessary to get to the end of the relatively uncomplicated story, owing to distractions that kept you chatting and laughing and oh, so much flirting - but honestly, you didn’t mind at all. You almost willed this not to end, almost wished the story were longer so you’d remain in each other’s company until the night was through.

You let Lin lead the way as you wandered, presuming this New York native most likely knew his way around the park far better than you ever would. More than happy to oblige, he led the way and took a turn onto another path, until you faced a wire fence almost entirely covered in shrubbery; when he stopped walking, you looked askance at him. It looked like a dead end - what was he playing at?

Cautious of the delicate fabric of his coat, he pushed aside an overgrown branch to reveal a gaping hole in the fence, and your expression graduated from confusion back to incredulity. He looked back at you and nodded as if asking you to continue to just trust him - and you still didn’t know exactly why you thought that was a wise idea, but alas, you did. You gathered the skirt of your ball gown as best you could, cringing a little at the way the black silk crinkled as you made every effort to hold it up, careful not to let it snag on the clipped fencing. You heaved a sigh of relief when you and your dress made it inside unscathed and Lin quickly followed behind, standing beside you.

For a moment, the two of you stood still in the shadows. There was a certain hauntingly beautiful quality about the empty open-air theatre; with the lights switched off and not another soul in sight, the stillness and silence hung heavy in the air as the moon floodlit the stage you stood on. From where you had snuck in, you were directly upstage, facing rows upon rows of unoccupied seats. Together, you looked down, revelling in the reflection of the pearlescent glow from above and when you raised your gaze to meet his, you exchanged looks of silent wonder.

A vague notion of concern materialised in the back of your mind as you realised you were essentially trespassing. But you weren’t causing any harm, so… Was that so bad?

Lin was the first to move again. His footsteps echoed as he strode centre stage, and despite the slight eeriness of it, he looked entirely comfortable in this space, completely owning it. You watched on in awe as he stepped into the light, the moon’s luminance casting a subtle shimmer over his suit, bringing forth an iridescent glow in the darkness.

“This is…amazing,” you exhaled, short of breath and of words.

He turned back to glance at you, and his sweet smile alleviated your fleeting fears. “No doubt, the Delacorte is stunning at night…” he mused aloud, “But it’s kinda starting to pale in comparison.”

“In comparison to what, pray tell?” you questioned innocently, taking a couple of tentative steps towards him.

“Take a guess?”

“You? That suit is quite dazzling.”

“Ha, ha.” Lin responded with a wry grin, “You, of course.”

You blushed, shifting your coy gaze to the ground. “Stop, you’re being too sweet.”

“Oh, I’m about to make it worse,” he teased, that flirtatious smirk playing on his lips again. You quirked a brow, daring him to go on. “May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked playfully, taking a chivalrous bow as he offered you his hand.

“You certainly may, Sir,” you quipped in the strongest British received pronunciation you could muster, holding your laugh behind your words. “But,” you dropped the accent, “Music?”

It simultaneously dawned upon you both that the Gala’s restricted phone policy meant your phones were back at the Met, held by your publicists for safekeeping. But you had an idea, and as you met his gaze once again, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirrored yours - after all, you were a pair of grown-up theatre kids. The two of you didn’t need a phone or a jukebox or even an accompaniment. Music was a part of your souls, from the lyrics in your heads to the rhythm of your hearts.

So you took his hand, placing your other hand on his shoulder, his resting delicately on your waist. In your sudden close proximity you absently noted, somewhere in the back of your mind, that there was something rather intoxicatingly addictive about his cologne… You let him lead the dance as you softly hummed a tune. You didn’t truly know why Part of Your World was the first song that sprung to your mind at that moment, but Lin laughed lightly when he recognised the melody, humming along with you a few beats later as you swayed together.

An idea occurred to you. The whole thing almost felt like a scene out of one of those musicals you both were so deeply fascinated by, or one of the many fairytales and rom-coms your younger self had fallen in love with the idea of once upon a time… but nevertheless, you’d never know if you didn’t try. So you wondered, ”Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah?” Lin encouraged. That incandescent smile of his was all you needed to follow through with your insane improvised idea.

“Tonight… It was enchanting to meet you… All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you…”

“Can I?”

“Sure?”

“I’ve had the time of my life tonight… And I swear it’s the truth, and I owe it all to you!”

Before you knew it, you were waltzing around the empty stage without a care in the world, laughing at each other’s missteps, singing as though nobody was listening, finishing each other’s lyrics as you alternated through your mental playlists. And it was true - there was no-one to impress, no-one to pass judgements - and you took comfort in that, relishing the peace it brought. So together you sang and you danced and you twirled around the stage, carefree as you both ever would be, living your best adult-prom lives.

“Well, all I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I wanna hold you… All I know is you’re someone I’ve always known, and I don’t even know you…”

“Can’t you see that the day seems clearer now that you’re here or… is it me?”

“Hey, back up! I know that one’s yours. Disqualified.”

“Okay, you got me. Take two?” Lin suggested cheekily. You pretended to think for a second before you nodded, allowing him that much lenience to the rules of this entirely made-up game and he continued, “There are many things that I’d like to say to you but I don’t know how, because maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me, and after all, you’re my wonderwall…”

“So you know I’m never gonna dance again, the way I danced with yoooou!”

As he whirled you around the middle of the stage, you tripped on your heels. All the practice in the world couldn’t have prepared you for this - after all, you’d been prepping for a red carpet, not a fairytale ball. Dancing was never on the agenda!

In a speedy reflex reaction, Lin caught you as you stumbled, saving you from falling on your face. He paused, looking at you with concern filling his deep brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, “Just, these heels! They’re gorgeous, but…” He stood by you for support, holding you steady, and you rested one hand on his shoulder as you yanked the offending gold Louboutins off, feeling immediate relief when you tossed your footwear to one side of the stage. You’d been standing tall in them and taking them off knocked you down a few inches, but honestly… When you stood on that stage, looking up into Lin’s eyes as they sparkled brighter than the stars above you both, you figured your actual height difference was kind of cute.

“Better?” he asked, gently placing both hands on your waist.

“So much better,” you affirmed, stepping up on your tiptoes, just about managing to slip your arms around his neck.

He bravely pressed a feather-light kiss to your forehead, his playful smile returning. “Wait…”

You gave him a questioning look as he drew back from you - but when you realised what he was up to, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. He kicked off his patent leather loafers to join your high heels downstage, bringing him a little closer to your level - and amusingly leaving him in a pair of red patterned socks.

“What, do wacky socks turn you off?” he teased, pulling you towards him again.

“Quite the opposite,” you smirked, swaying along with him, “I have an enviable sock collection myself, actually.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Indeed. Might show you sometime, if you don’t sweet-talk me to death.”

Effortless and effervescent, Lin continued your musical chain as you continued to dance, barefoot on the cold stage.

“Don’t you see it? ‘Cause darling, without you… All the shine of a thousand spotlights, all the stars that we steal from the night sky will never be enough, never be enough…”

“You don’t. I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand… When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am…”

“I should tell you, I should tell you…” To that, you responded with a quizzical look. Breaking the chain for a beat, Lin whispered, “I didn’t want to tell you before, but I knew.”

“What?” you asked,

“You thought I didn’t know you.”

“Why on earth would you?”

“I did. I saw your movie at the same festival back in November and…”

“No.” You gasped. Surely he didn’t. Surely this wasn’t some incredibly elaborately orchestrated meet-cute.

“Yeah. And for some reason, every time our paths crossed during awards season and I thought about trying to talk to you, something would always get in the way… But I’m glad tonight panned out the way it did,” Lin confessed. His gaze held yours and said a thousand words more than you ever thought you’d hear tonight.

You were reassured in the knowledge that the night’s turn of events were as unexpected to him as they had been to you; honestly, it made the whole thing infinitely more beautiful. You responded, “I had no idea… But you know what? I like this better. There was no way we could’ve met sooner if this is what destiny had in store for us.”

“Who knows where, who goes there?”

“Who knows? Here goes…”

As you finished the line, Lin caught you by surprise, dipping you low as you held onto him for support. So that was why you thought you could trust him - he wouldn’t let you fall. His eyes held your gaze, both of you challenging the other to make a move.

“Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you…”

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, ‘cause I can’t help falling in love with you…”

So when you finally did make a move, you simultaneously leaned in towards each other, and when your lips finally met, you could swear you felt all the butterflies and fireworks and sparks, the stuff of romance novels that you never thought was possible in real life. Neither of you were in any rush, his tongue finding yours first, unhurriedly exploring each other’s mouths, his hands firm yet somehow still delicate on your waist as as your hands trailed up his arms to his shoulders to his neck to finally rest in his hair, too short to grab but well, he wouldn’t stop you if you tried…

When you finally separated, only for the practicality of needing to breathe actual air, all you registered were Lin’s warm brown eyes and his hands on you, still lingering at your waist. You became vaguely aware of a raindrop or two falling onto your exposed skin, and you both looked up to the sky in unison. Sure enough, it was starting to rain - but in the gleaming moonlight, it looked almost like drops of starlight were descending over you, no less sparkly or stunning than the events leading up to them.

Lin smiled again, helping you back to your feet onto the solid ground of the stage. The surface was dewy with the light drizzle and you shivered, your off-shoulder sleeves doing very little to shield you from the nighttime breeze. He evidently noticed, for before you could say another word, he slipped out of his coat and draped it over your shoulders, providing immediate relief.

“Thank you,” you whispered, again almost in disbelief at his chivalry. And, feeling a little braver already, you took a step towards him again to place the gentlest little kiss on his cheek before you whirled around to retrieve your shoes.

You threw him a cursory glance over your shoulder as you made your way downstage, trying your level best not to get distracted by the heart-melting smile that graced his lips as he watched you, both practically blushing. You went to pick up your discarded high heels, but suddenly, the ground was swept from beneath your feet.

“Lin!” you shrieked in surprise as he swiftly lifted you, one arm around your waist and the other supporting your legs. Your arm instinctively went around his neck, resting on his shoulder, as your other hand hung on to the backs of your Louboutins, letting them dangle off your fingers. You willed yourself not to get lost in his eyes as you continued teasingly, “What do you think you’re doing, Mr Miranda?”

“Well, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you stumble home in the rain?” he retorted, matching your playful tone, “So tell me… Where the fuck are we going?”

“Very chivalrous indeed,” you joked, “I don’t know, your place or mine?” You bit your bottom lip, hopefully seductively so - until you both burst into laughter. “God, I cannot believe I just said that out loud.”

“Neither can I, actually. I’d never have asked… Not in an I-don’t-want-you way, but in a, like, respectful way - if you know what I mean - hmm-”

You silenced his questionably cute rambling with a gentle kiss. There was something dangerously addictive about kissing him; it was as though once you’d been down that road, you kept wanting to go back for more. Of course, he wasn’t opposed to it, responding with just as much fervour until the drizzle developed into a full-on downpour, forcing you apart again. You were soaked to the skin within seconds, but as you looked up at him again, all the both of you could do was continue to laugh.

“Well, there go our outfits,” you remarked with a giggle.

“It’s almost like destiny, isn’t it?” Lin laughed, carefully stepping into his own shoes whilst still holding you, “Yeah, Paul will probably hate me after this.”

“The House of Gucci will have my head on a stick!” you exaggerated in a mock accent. “Well, it’s Moschino but you get the idea.”

“Worth it, though.”

“Totally.”

—————

Somewhere along the way, you had jointly made up your minds to head back to The Mark, where you both had suites for the night, rather than attempting to make the journey back to his apartment uptown. Lin refused to let you walk any of the way after seeing the pain those heels had wrought upon your feet, so despite your protests you were still helplessly up in his arms with his coat hanging on your shoulders as he strolled in on the red carpet they still had laid out at the door of the hotel.

To your surprise, there was no-one else around save for the hotel staff, who shot looks of intrigue at the two of you as you entered the hotel lobby, all lavish velvet and opulence. You guessed most of the other Gala attendees had either already turned in or were still out at the various afterparties (which, honestly, you’d completely forgotten about despite the multiple invitations you were meant to oblige earlier that night and the second dress that hung forgotten in your suite) - but you figured that was a good thing, being able to avoid any questions or judgements.

“I can walk!” you insisted for the umpteenth time, but Lin was having none of it. He shook his head and walked you both to the elevator lobby, where an elderly doorman kindly pushed the call button for you. An elevator thankfully arrived within a few seconds and Lin stepped in, finally setting you down on the ground, the marble floor cool against your bare feet.

“Only because…” he whispered. For a moment, you looked shyly up at him, but by now you knew exactly where he was going with this as he delicately cupped your cheek, drawing you closer to steal another kiss, just deep enough to keep you wanting more. “Why are we still in this elevator?” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Because…” you sighed, placing both hands on his chest and gently pushing him back. He looked mildly dejected until he realised you needed him out of the way to reach for the elevator buttons.

Lin wordlessly took another step towards you, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he slipped one hand into the inner pocket of your - well, actually his - coat. Casual as ever, he retrieved a card, holding it between his fingers in front of you as though he were showing off some sort of magic trick. You narrowed your eyes at his failed attempt to act cool.

“Shit,” he laughed when he looked at the business card he was holding, “That is not my key.”

“That’s why I’m here,” you said with a smirk, retrieving your own keycard from a pocket concealed somewhere between the many layers and pleats of your dress. He looked fascinated. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, love!” You reached behind him to finally hit the button for your floor, and up you went.

—————

Trying not to destroy your priceless outfits any more than you already had, you slipped his tailcoat off of your shoulders as soon as you entered your suite. As you placed it on an empty hanger on your clothing rail to dry, you felt Lin wander over to stop behind you and you shivered - but this time it wasn’t from the cold. He hadn’t touched you yet, but you could feel warmth radiating off him in waves as you turned to face him.

You looked up at him, both equally thrilled and terrified as you brazenly made the first move. You tugged lightly on the loose end of his necktie, unravelling the knot and tossing it somewhere across the room. He reached for you, his eyes fixed upon yours, shining with anticipation; you instinctively leant into his touch, trying not to melt as he tucked a wet lock of hair behind your ear, reaching for the pin that held your elaborate updo in place. He slipped the hairpin out of your hair and dropped it to the ground. You shook your head to let the strands loose, his fingers tangled in your hair as your hands went for the buttons on his high-collared shirt next, having noticed he had already abandoned his waistcoat. He hastily shrugged the shirt off and drew you closer, one hand searching the back of your dress for the fastenings holding it up. You turned away again, knowing exactly where the zipper was; he found it easily and slowly dragged it down, his fingertips teasingly brushed your bare back, each brief moment of contact setting off a flame you couldn’t ignore. You slipped your arms out of the sleeves, letting the dress slip easily down to the carpeted floor. To hell with your elaborate costumes, you thought as you coquettishly stared at him; he was perfect with or without the royal getup.

“Fuck,” Lin gasped, seemingly stealing the words right from you, “You’re breathtaking.”

“Won’t you return the favour? Take my breath away…” you breathed, stepping up onto your toes, barely hesitating to kiss him again.

You felt him smile against your lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you again, blindly finding your way to the waiting bed somewhere behind you. From there on, it was all a rather beautiful haze as the remainders of both your clothing were tossed to the floor, and you let yourself get completely swept up in him as you landed on the bed together with a gentle thud. You were still intoxicated, both high off each other as his lips captured yours for the nth time that night, his body on top of yours, every touch a searing spark.

You laced your fingers with his, entirely intertwined as you took your time exploring each other, him trailing butterfly kisses over every exposed inch of your skin, and you to his. An overload to your senses, all you could register was his lips on your neck, your hands on his chest, him hot and hard for you, you wet and ready for him… His eyes were dark with desire as they held your gaze, still somehow seeking assent before he finally entered you, stretching you to your limits. He stilled when you gasped, giving you a moment to adjust before you assured him, begged him to go on, gentle endearments whispered like a symphony only the two of you could hear.

Your eyes met for a brief second before they fluttered shut in pure ecstasy as he pushed you to the edge over again and there you went - there you both went together, melting into each other in a daze of sighs and screams and whispers and whimpers, with so much said in so little words, though knowing that would not be the end; there was no way this could be the end…

There was a certain comfort, a refreshing familiarity about the way he touched you, not like this was your first night together, but the first of many. This wasn’t a battle, it was almost another dance in its own right, setting your hearts alight and your bodies aflame.

Still tangled up in each other, a mess of lovestruck smiles and crumpled white sheets as you both caught your breaths again, you looked over at him, you could tell he reciprocated everything you were feeling by the way he looked back at you. Those gorgeous brown eyes still shone with affection, that sweet smile still played on his lips, with just the lightest hint of a blush visible on his cheeks. He reached one hand up to brush a stray strand of your still-damp hair away from your face, letting his hand rest tenderly on your flushed cheek for a moment; you placed your own hand over his, a silent request to please stay.

You didn’t need to ask twice - or even once.

And again, it was as though you were in perfect sync; you leaned in and met his lips for one last kiss that night, every bit as passionate as the first. The day’s chaos and exhaustion had begun to catch up with you both, but for all the mutual warmth and comfort you felt, falling asleep in each other’s arms seemed like a definite way to relieve it. A momentary hint of fear flickered through your mind as you wondered how it was even possible to feel so safe, so loved in the arms of someone you barely knew, and for someone who knew you just as little to reciprocate with such adoration - but there you both were.

And oh, you were certain you’d have each other again any damn time you could - but now you rested in the knowledge that you’d always have more time in the morning…

—————

Morning rolled around far too soon. When you awoke in your gorgeous suite, praying the night was not just a dream… you were abruptly snapped out of your daze by the irritating sound of a phone buzzing.

Your sleepy mind registered that you’d left your personal phone in the drawer of the nightstand before you left for the Gala. When you carefully retrieved the device, it simply would not stop ringing with notifications from every friend and family member you kept in contact with.

Why?

You wondered, but it didn’t take much searching to find out. Splashed across the tabloids, the blogs, and all over social media, amongst the endless stream of best- and worst-dressed lists, was an image of the two of you. So thank goodness, it wasn’t just a dream… He wasn’t just a dream. You had no idea how or who could’ve snapped this photo without your knowledge, but you realised complaining would be an injustice. The mystery photographer had captured you and Lin mid-midnight dance, at the very second he’d dipped you low and you’d seized the moment to steal a kiss, the falling raindrops sparkling like diamonds around you.

It looked like the end of a Disney movie, him the smitten prince, you the besotted princess, falling into happily ever after in each other’s arms.

But when Lin stirred beside you and held you close, still adorably sleepy, you tossed your phone onto the bed and turned to face him instead, bathed in the early morning sunshine’s soft glow.

The dream could go on a little longer and for now, the rest of the world could wait - because what you both knew in that moment, was that this was only the beginning of a new fairytale…

#lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel miranda fanfic #lin manuel miranda smut #lmm x reader #linnamon roll #hamilton #hamiltrash #met gala 2022 #lin sin #my gifs #my fic

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james-stark-the-writer · 1 month

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the only movie to ever actually get Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and realize that the real monster is Victor but also that it's a little more complicated than that, and this isn't even a Frankenstein adaptation. i haven't even seen all of them but this is actually better than every single Frankenstein adaptation. this is a sci-fi movie if it was made in the 1920s, this even often looks like a colorized expressionist film (where the fuck were you people getting "surrealism" from????? this is absurdist, just like every other Lanthimos movie, just bc there's some hazy landscapes that doesn't make it surrealist. it's also probably his single funniest film) from back then. Yorgos Lanthimos's (almost) feminist masterpiece. Bella is a favorite of all time, i love her more than words can explain. i think this honestly might be my second favorite Lanthimos after Dogtooth (although technically this is a spiritual successor to Dogtooth, this is also about the controlling of information by the people in power and what that does to people). also, ik i need to separate art from the artist but i don't think i'll be able to watch TASM2 in the same way ever again tbh. Men (2022) wishes it had the range this does. this is also weirdly the most hopeful Lanthimos movie?

My ★★★★★ review of Poor Things (2023) on @letterboxd:

#james talks #poor things #yorgos lanthimos #poor things 2023 #letterboxd #movie review #james reviews things #james reviews stuff

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hydrangeawise · 2 years

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Before I got into the tag as per usual after watching the most recent episode: EP12!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just, WHAT!

It was a lot and I'll get to all the things I loved about it in a minute, but the funniest thing was Chisato complaining about the USB stick. And her and Fuki fighting under the desk. That was a bit surreal with everything else happening around them, but so fun!

And okay, the first half was a lot! "Sorry, I can't right now, I'm having an emotional breakdown" is how I explained it to my feline flatmate. I had my theories how it could turn out and what could possibly happen with Yoshimatsu and the heart, but I did not expect this! It makes sense in a way, with Yoshimatsu being the person he is and his strong views on how the world should work, but wow! And man, Takina, my sweet angel girl, I felt her SO MUCH! Her desperation and fierce determination, her anger!! She changed so much from the way she was at the beginning, it makes my heart bloom every time I see it or think about it. I simply love the way she loves Chisato so much (how Chisato says "I'm so glad I got to meet you" and Takina doesn't say anything, but her actions imply "Only meeting you is not enough, I want/need you to stay with me", I may need to lie down for a while and marinade in my feelings about them). There is so much life to her now!

Oh, and Kurumi taking down Robota was pretty funny as well. And how Mizuki is always there to keep it real with her complains, it was *chef's kiss*. I'm also still curious why people keep referring to Walnut as an old guy; is it because of the voice Kurumi uses, or is it because Walnut has been a presence for a long time? And also: I'm really curious about conspiracy theories within the world because while people seem to believe that everything shown on the news screens was indeed a publicity stunt, I don't think everyone would be like that.

Finally, the cliffhanger at the end was [screams into pillow for a bit]. I saw people in the comments call it ungodly, and I cackled a bit at that. Oh man, I can't believe it's only one episode to go and that it will drive me absolutely feral to wait for a week.

#yeah I want that in my life #lycoris recoil #b rambles #I also have some thoughts about the LilyBell but I need to process some more #also adore the way that Shinji is just really fucked up as a person and Mika was like #I'm still having heart eyes for Takina honestly

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ectoblastfromthepast · 1 year

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yknow. i dont talk abt being disabled a lot on here past making jokes but like

i was gointhrough emails on my uni account and deleting a lot of things, and watching my condition raipdly get worse in spring of 2021 through those was surrel. like i remember most of it because of constant recounting to the doctor's (the amount of doctor's messages too is wild), but it's also so weird for me to read an email to my Chinese lang prof telling her I couldn't participate in class that day because brain fog was so bad even after sleeping all fucking day.

like, in my mind, i went from a normal able bodied person to pretty severely disabled over the course of two years. i told my other disabled friends i hurt all the time and theyre like "well how long has this been going on" and i was like "oh two years, but im thinking maybe more. but i dont have chronic pain, it just Happens To Me" and this was BEFORE i had a chronic fatigue crash that cemented CFS in my body as a real and present thing. now i have to contend with it every day, along with the complications its brings.

now, i've been dealing with chronic pain for. an inordinate amount of years now. i've been disabled MUCH longer than i've been aware. the further back i think, the more i realize i've hurt and i either didnt realize that wasnt normal or i told people and they brushed me off.

my knees hyperextend. they have my whole life. (i had to go back and find picture evidence of this because my mom didnt remember) this causes a lot of pain on my feet, and has at least since middle school. i didnt like playing outside bc it hurt and was exhausting, but everyone assumed it was bc i was a bookworm and fat. i remember sitting next to the older family friend i was at the zoo with because both of our feet hurt from walking. i was 10. she was 60.

and i just wonder... how much did my doctor not notice??? i went through precocious puberty and she was never concerned. i started puberty at 7, and got my first period at 9. i havent grown since age 11. my tits are massive for my height bc THEY didnt stop growing until i was 21. she never mentioned my knees bending back, but she did mention my back/posture being a little weird (not weird enough to FIX apparently. ps i have a small unnatural curve of my spine, not sure if its scoliosis or not). my mom constantly feels guilty bc no one noticed, but tbf i never brought it up. i never thought i was hyperflexible/double jointed but it turns out i AM which means i was just a dumbass adhd kid who assumed everyone was like that.

and like. my joints are causing more and more problems. i started having more problems after my surgery as a result of the stress on my body, who knows what's gonna happen now that ive had covid??

i hyperextended my middle finger in my sleep and now it hurts to use. my right hip hyperextends and possibly subluxes on the regular and i cant fix it. my shoulders are WAY more mobile than they used to be, and i can force my left shoulder out of its socket to some degree while laying on it. the tips of my fingers bend super far down and my thumb apparently "looks like rubber" bc of how far i can bend/wiggle it.

idk, i had a point but i lost it. being disabled is weird and surreal for me, and most days i dont mind bc it makes me the funniest person in any room, but some days it REALLY fucking sucks

#ecto speaks #my posts #disabled talk #disability talk

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rhysdarbyarchive · 2 years

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youtube

Rhys in the 2010 Feilding Christmas Parade (some very grainy footage from a different angle here)

From This Way to Spaceship:

Years later I found myself in a Christmas Parade again. This time it was 2010 and I was invited to be part of the Feilding Santa parade. I should add that Feilding is a little town just below the middle of the North Island. To say it's a quaint town doesn't really cover it. Feilding has won the coveted 'New Zealand's most beautiful town' award fourteen times. And for some reason the folks in this nice town wanted me to star in their parade. I decided to do it because it would be a bit of fun and I was down that way anyway doing some stand-up shows over Christmas. I also had connections with the town because my father was brought up there. I told Dad I was going to be in the parade, and so he made the forty-minute journey from another country town called Bulls to come and see me.

On the day I was hoisted up onto the back of a 1957 Chevy convertible. Sitting up high I found myself squeezed between two beauty queens, Miss Manawatu and Miss Teen Manawatu, who were rather pleasant, to say the least. I must say that for a small town, they really did make an effort. There were marching bands, clowns, jugglers, a float that consisted of all the kids' TV character costumes the town could muster (Spongebob, Darth Vader, Cookie Monster and Dora). Then there was what I thought was the highlight -- the senior citizens mobility scooter club! It felt like the whole town had turned up to cheer and wave. As the procession came down the main street a woman with a microphone announced my presence to the crowd and there was loud applause. I felt like a hero, like I'd just come back from winning a war. There was even a girl holding up a sign that read: 'Rhys Darby please marry me'. I spotted my Dad standing on the corner of the main street with his older sister Nan. They were waving proudly. I'm pretty sure he had a tear in his eye. This was it. A family highlight for the Darbys. I was good enough to be in the Feilding Santa parade. I had legitimately made it BIG! I've got to tell you, the funniest part of being in a parade like this is at the end. All the cars and floats drove back to the assembly point where the procession had started. From there all the 'stars' of the parade were dropped off. That was the end. The surreal other-worldly dimension of 'paradeness' was over. It was a short sharp drop back to reality. Suddenly anyone who was held aloft was brought back down to the land of the mortals. I had to walk from the assembly point back across town to where my wife and kids were waiting for me. It was as if the parade had never happened. As I made my way back through the streets, people were walking straight past completely ignoring me. It was so weird it made me laugh inside. It made me think. It's funny how we line the streets and wave at parades. It doesn't really matter who's in the parade or what the parade is for. If there's something fancy or out-of-the-ordinary to wave and cheer at, we'll do it. Wouldn't it be nice to have that parade feeling every day? If I was slightly more insane than I am now, I'd create a float with a massive throne on it and surround it with torches and bubble machines. Then I'd hire a marching band and some lunatics with ribbons, all of which would accompany me as I took my daily journey down my street. 'It's the Rhys Darby parade,' the crowds would should as they lined the paths of my neighbourhood hoping to catch a glimpse of the extreme idiot on his way to the store to pick up some milk.

#rhys darby #2010s #2010 #nz #video #books #included a bit more than i needed to but how could i leave out the rhys darby parade bit

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partialdifferentials · 2 years

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220624 AB6IX in Chicago

Because I don’t think I’m going to journal about this one. Unnecessarily detailed as always

Finally, after forever I get to go to a seated concert. I got there a little before 5 because I wanted to hand out stuff. But they let us in like right before 5 so I never actually got to, whoops. But a lot of people had freebies! I ended up with so much stuff lol. I liked the venue. Free parking!!!

For soundcheck, they did Cherry and Red Up. Woong and Donghyun kept peeking out before it started. Suddenly someone screamed and we were all like ??? Woojin had a hawaiian shirt on lol. This is the first time phones were allowed during soundcheck so I took the opportunity to take pics then. Actually I filmed way more than I usually do. I guess because I was less concerned with ~seeing them with my own eyes~ like I usually am with my faves

The venue was only about half full. I know it must suck as an artist to see that but as someone who gets overwhelmed easily I appreciated how it didn’t feel crowded.

Their outfits were really pretty! There were actually more performances than I was expecting for a “fanmeeting.” I’ve realized the value in knowing the songs beforehand... I haven’t really listened to many of their releases in the past 1-2 years. But they did do two of my favorite songs, Blind for Love and Surreal. They also had a post-it note question session. Two girls were trying to get them to pick theirs so they screamed “we wrote in glitter pen!!” and Daehwi was like “I need to repent?” lmaooo but tbh that’s what I heard too. Oh but the first one they picked was Tina who I know has done events and stuff for them, it’s nice to see a dedicated fan get this chance! One of the questions was what’s your favorite dinosaur and Daehwi said he didn’t have one, I don’t remember the other answers. Whatever questions they picked, they invited those fans on stage and let them ask questions and stuff. There were 2 kfans picked and they kept their faces covered the whole time lol. One of them asked Woong to shake hands.

In the second half they also called up 4 fans from their tweets to the stage. They let 2 people ask questions. The first one asked about places to go to in Korea. The second asked if cereal is a soup. There were some divided opinions. BUT the funniest thing is that (all 4 took polaroids with AB6IX) when it was that girl’s turn, Woong said cereal is a snack (not soup) and then called cereal girl loooool.

They actually talked to the audience a lot. They took the time to read signs and there was someone dressed up as Ash. Oh there was also someone wearing Daehwi’s outfit from Rose Scent Kiss and he asked, “Where did you get that from?” and she said she made it. I think during the ending ment Woojin asked if we were ready and he was like “really?”

I came in holding an Woojin slogan but I’m a Donghyun fan now. He was the most engaged out of all them. The other 3 were definitely less so... I know someone (Daehwi?) mentioned the day before on pm that they were getting tired. I think that’s why Donghyun stood out so much while performing (in a good way), he was enjoying himself at least. Was kind of surprised with Woojin, he looked like he was just going through the motions. I didn’t see Woong that much but when I did he was cute. I felt like Daehwi was trying to be sexy a lot lmao. But I think he sang live the entire night!!

Another thing I want to mention is the lack of “kpop opportunists” (as I heard for the first time today lol). The people at the front knew all the fanchants and everything, and phones were up but not obnoxious (at least from my pov, in the back. It was the first time in a long time I didn’t have to crane my neck to avoid phones in my view!) I obviously can't say for sure everyone at the front was actually an abnew but the vibes were definitely more genuine than they have been. I'm really happy for those fans! I hope they had a good time.

Hi-Touch went super fast. Even faster than my Wanna One hi-touch. I think the order was Daehwi, Woong, Donghyun, Woojin? I wanted to tell Donghyun I’m his fan now but he definitely did not hear lol. I put my phone in my pocket to see if it would pick up anything and you can only hear them, you can’t hear me at all. So they for sure did not hear anything lol.

Overall I’m glad I went! I was able to get a VIP ticket for $100 (less than fv) so I think it was worth it. I bought my ticket a week before the show just in case something came up.

#in conclusion: stan donghyun #ab6ix #AB6IXinChicago #concert #fanaccount

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ndviduality · 2 years

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(This year’s prompts were made by @autie-j and @lesmiserabby!)

So maybe I’m a day or so late. Or a month. I still wanted to do this, and since I haven’t told you guys much about myself, I thought this would be a good time.

Sooooo. I decided to speedrun the 30 days autism acceptance prompts in one post!

Let’s begin, shall we?

(Apologies, I’m on mobile and I don’t know how to add the “read more” box. Tumblr is hard I usually use twitter HAHA )

April 1st: Introduce yourself. Talk about who you are as a person. Your age, hobbies, special interests, family, etc. Anything you feel comfortable sharing

Hi! I’m NDviduality. (Real name is a secret.) I am 21, and I am a big fan of science. I have tons of special interests, but the main reoccurring ones (aside from special interests abt certain pieces of media) are: Nuclear disasters, vocal synthesis, AI to some degree, and molecular biology to some degree. I am not professionally dx’ed for safety reasons, but I am absolutely autistic and most people around me figure it out pretty quick.

April 2nd: Post your redinstead photos today. Alternatively, you could talk about what autistic pride/autism acceptance month means to you.

Since I’m doing this all in one post (and also in May) I don’t have redinstead pics on me. So the alt prompt it is! To me, autistic pride is about looking at the good in autism. Looking past our struggles and looking at the truly amazing things that come with being autistic and being around other autistic people. There’s suffering, yeah, but I would never WANT to be allistic, because being autistic is who I am. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

April 3rd: Talk about jobs. Do you currently work or have you worked before? Was it hard for you to find a job? Does your job work well regarding your autism? Alternatively, if you don't work, what was school like for you as an autistic person? What was good about school? What was bad?

For this prompt I’ll talk about school. Grade school was… Well, it was. I went to a VERY small school, so there were pretty much no others I could relate to in my class, which sucked. I also lived in a pretty bigoted area which made being open about my identity pretty risky. I survived on maladaptive daydreams and kraft mac n cheese tbh. /j

April 4th: Talk about humor. Do you feel that your autism affects your sense of humor in any way? Are there any inside jokes in the autism community that you really like?

AUTISTIC HUMOR IS JUST BETTER. I don’t really know what my sense of humor is, but I DO know some other autistic people that just have the FUNNIEST senses of humor. It’s the kind of unexpected stuff and it’s often goofy and surreal, and I LOVE IT. My favorite inside joke from the autistic community is Allism Speaks. It’s absolute gold.

April 5th: Talk about instances of miscommunication. Are there any examples you can give for a time where you misinterpreted an interaction with someone else or them you? What do you think went wrong with that interaction?

This one’s hard because I’m bad at remembering specific events, but I do have a more general experience to share. One thing I always suck at is getting body language right when doing a speech- specifically, I always look super nervous apparently, so a lot of people think I have anxiety around public speaking. This couldnt be further from the truth though!! Because I LOVE public speaking, strangely enough.

April 6th: Do you tend to infodump about things that you're interested in?

Wish I Could. I kinda trained that out with masking- Now if I talk about ANYTHING I’m interested in, I end up feeling shameful. I’m really working towards being able to freely express my special interests though, and I’m also working on techniques to make my infodumps more palatable to people who aren’t interested in my special interests, by using things I’ve learned from story writing classes. Obviously people don’t /have/ to do this and shouldn’t be expected to cater their infodumps to an audience, but i just really enjoy telling a captivating story.

April 7th: Is there anything in particular that you'd like to see more of in autistic representation? Anything you'd like to see less of?

I’d love to see more characters with echolalia. I’d also love to see some better representation of alexithymia, and maybe even RSD (although that’s mostly an ADHD thing.) the big thing though, is I’d love to see more autistic characters who use the internet. Internet culture is super important to me and I’m sure it is for plenty of other autistic folk. I’d like to see less of autistic characters being made fun of/made to be humor because of their autistic traits.

April 8th: Do you feel like your social skills have gotten better or worse with age?

Better. I still suck with social cues, but I can AT LEAST fake it now.

April 9th: How are you when it comes to clothes? Are there certain clothes that you avoid or seek out for sensory reasons? Do you prefer tight or loose clothing? Would you consider yourself a fashionable person?

Biggest pet peeve: shirts that aren’t crop-tops but are just short enough to show your belly when you lift your arms up. The sudden coldness is SO BAD. In terms of fashion, I love to think about dressing nice even if I usually don’t have the energy to actually put together a look.

April 10th: Do you collect anything? Do the things that you collect have anything to do with your special interests? How do you organize your collection? Show off your collection if you want.

….okay I don’t really collect anything. In part it’s because I don’t like to spend money, but I also think my ADHD plays a factor in this. Even if I wanted to collect things, I’d misplace something from the collection and never find it again lol.

April 11th: Would you consider yourself to be a creative person? What kind of things do you create? Does being autistic influence how creative of a person you are?

Yes! I’d like to think so anyway. I like to create basically anything under the sun, albeit I’m not great at composing music so I usually don’t do that. The one I do the most and comes the most natural is writing. It’s especially fun because being autistic has given me the tendency to create elaborate worlds and stories in my head that I can then use for my writing.

April 12th: Do you consider yourself to be an organized person or disorganized? In what ways? Does being autistic affect how organized you are?

Oh Boy. This is where the ADHD brain takes over. I cannot and will not organize. I can try, but then I have to use something I organized and i never reorganize it. I’m a hot mess. I am a perfectionist at times, but organization is NOT one of those times.

April 13th: What are some aspects of being autistic that you feel don't get talked about enough

Probably stuff like alexithymia. I also want people to start talking about autism in women and trans people, because it’s always so focused on cis men.

April 14th: Talk about connections, platonic and/or romantic. Who are some of the most important people in your life? Is it generally hard for you to connect with people? If it is, what kind of issues do you have with it? Do you find it easier to get along with other autistic people?

Haha I Totally Have Connections!! (Lying.)

Okay, I DO have online friends. I find that I get along with other ND people better than I do NTs, which is why all of my friend group is ND in some way, and most are autistic. It’s just good to see that I’m not alone in my little quirks I suppose.

April 15th: Media is something that has the power to speak to a lot of different people in different ways. What are some media (movies, tv shows, books, etc) that really speaks to you as an autistic person? Something that you can really relate to?

Oh man…. this one’s hard. There are tons of examples. The first example of this I could think of is, bear with me here, Project Sekai- specifically Rui. He has the same hyper-specific issue as I do, that being “I like to come up with elaborate creative ideas but can’t make friends well enough to ever be able to have any help.” Same with the “people turning down your ideas” thing. I relate so hard.

April 16th: Talk about discovering yourself as an autistic person. When did you first find out you were autistic? If you were diagnosed, what was that process like? If you are self diagnosed, when did you first start to suspect that you could be autistic? How did you feel about it when you first found out compared to how you feel about it now? Have you gotten to a place of acceptance? What does being autistic mean to you?

So I should start out by saying, I’m not formally diagnosed, (but I might as well be.)

I found out when I was 14ish, sitting with my mom on the porch. I was talking about how “autistic people seem really cool, people shouldn’t be mean to them.” And my mom hit me with the “oh yeah you’re probably autistic” card. Turns out, tons of teachers had figured out, as well as the doctor who diagnosed me with ADHD- (he wanted a follow up screening for autism, which we didn’t do.) the reason she hadn’t brought it up was because of the stigma around the label, and how it could potentially put me in difficult situations if it was put on paper officially. I’m not mad at her at all for not telling me, she had valid reasons and that’s a hard thing to tell someone. At first, I felt ashamed of being autistic, but that quickly changed when I found the actually autistic community and realized that being autistic was just a part of who I am, and getting rid of it would be the same as getting rid of what makes me me.

April 17th: Do you prefer fiction, nonfiction or a mix of both for entertainment?

I’d say it’s a mix. I love fiction because I enjoy learning about fictional worlds and characters, but I also love watching science documentaries to learn about the REAL world. It’s nice to have fiction to escape from, but it’s also nice to be able to learn about the world we live in. Both are good!

April 18th: Do you have any pets? If not, do you want any in the future? Why or why not?

YES I have two 6 pound little doggies and I love them with my life. They are everything to me. I am the biggest dog person you’ll ever meet. The thing I love about dogs is that they’re always SO HAPPY TO BE AROUND YOU. I also like that their emotions are very easy to read. Having a wagging tail makes it pretty simple, haha.

April 19th: How do you feel about self diagnosis?

There’s really only one correct answer to this- self DX is valid. Getting an autism diagnoses can be Incredibly hard, especially if you’ve engrained your masking and don’t come across as autistic. And don’t get me STARTED on the price. If you live in the US, you’re gonna be paying a pretty penny to get that slip of paper that says you’re autistic. While I’m sure not every person who self diagnoses autism “actually” has it, it really doesn’t matter if everything’s in good faith. Plus, I don’t understand why anybody would fake being autistic. Why would you even want the social stigma lol

April 20th: What are your thoughts on terminology? (ie, high functioning and low functioning vs high support needs and low support needs, nonspeaking vs nonverbal, person first vs identity first, etc)

I like the new terminology a lot better. Support needs get the idea across much better I think, as it’s able to really show autism as a spectrum. “Low functioning” and “high functioning” are binary and rigid and don’t work when you view autism as a spectrum. In terms of nonverbal vs nonspeaking, I always thought “verbal” was a synonym for “speaking,” but clearly it isn’t. Just another way society conflates speech with all forms of communication. Knowing this, I prefer nonspeaking, as it also accounts for other methods of communication! As a text to speech fan, I’m very partial towards AAC tech and I’d love to see more AI implementation in the field- oh god im infodumping LMAO.

Finally, identity first or bust for me. I don’t have autism, I AM autism babey!

April 21st: What do you think about euphemisms for disabilities such as special needs, differently abled, etc?

They suck. Don’t like em. Disabled is not a dirty word. Same goes for allistics who say “on the spectrum” but never actually say “autistic.” It irks me. Saying “on the spectrum” is fine as long as like… it’s not the ONLY way you refer to autism.

April 22nd: Do you like hugs or dislike them? What about other forms of physical contact? Does it depend on the person or situation?

I haven’t had a hug I’ve particularly liked. Then again, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship with somebody, so that might change. I also love hugging big fluffy dogs

April 23rd: If you could live absolutely anywhere, real or fictional, where would you live? What would your dream home look like?

Oh jeez I have NO CLUE. I don’t read enough for this LMAO. Uhhhhh… My ideal place to live would be somewhere alone, with tons of autistic friendly things. Weighted blankets, fidgets, one of those ceiling hammock cocoon things? The like. Also I want the house to be lit blue inside, not because of A$, but because blue LEDs look SICK AS HELL. Forever mad that A$ took blue lights away from us.

April 24th: How easy is it for you to focus on things? Are you easily distracted? Is it harder if it's something you're not interested in?

Well. I have ADHD. So there’s that. I specifically have inattentive form. Paying attention is something I’ve always struggled with. I can BASICALLY get distracted by just about anything. You could put me in a padded cell and tell me to complete a task without breaking focus and I’d still find a way to get distracted. Luckily, medicine for ADHD has been able to absolutely REVOLUTIONIZE my life with regard to this issue.

April 25th: Do you struggle with switching tasks or is it easy for you? Does it depend on the task/situation?

It’s a struggle. It’s absolutely a struggle. I have that ADHD thing where I can switch tasks quick- but good luck ever finishing the original task. I have to be sure I don’t switch tasks carelessly or I’ll end up with 20 unfinished projects.

April 26th: Do you stim? What sort of stims do you have? What do you wish people knew about stimming?

I do!! When I get particularly hyped, I go flappy. And sometimes slap the table if I’m at one. I also stim verbally! It’s one of the reasons I’ve gotten good with vocal analysis stuff, as I often replicate sounds I hear as a stim. Echolalia!

April 27th: Do you have trouble identifying physical feelings like hunger or being tired? Do you have trouble with identifying emotions?

Well… I’m on stimulants for ADHD so hunger flat out doesn’t exist anymore. /hj. I DO have trouble identifying my emotions though- especially stress. I really can’t tell if I’m stressed until my mouth starts breaking out in ulcers from the stress weakening my immune system (I think.)

April 28th: Can you drive? If so, do you like driving? If not, do you want to learn?

Yeah!!! I actually enjoy driving. It’s a nice way to clear my head, although it absolutely can be scary at times. I like being able to listen to my music super loud and just feel the song. It’s nice.

April 29th: What sort of things do you like to do to relax/for self care?

Best way for me? Indulge in special interest. I swear, it regenerates 20hp. Another thing that helps is going on a walk. Usually I daydream when I do this, and when I come up with a good idea it completely makes my day. I also like to take a nice hot bath and listen to some music.

April 30th: Do you like to plan ahead for things or do you like to just "go with the flow" and see what happens? A mix of both? Does it vary by day to day?

I prefer to go with the flow. I think this is another example of my ADHD shining through. I’m the type of person who really doesn’t plan stuff, because I ALWAYS forget what I’m planning. In terms of creative works, I also think planning too hard can be detrimental- improv makes for KILLER stories, you’d be surprised.

Happy May! I wrote this while fighting allergy meds so it might not make perfect sense. I’m gonna go pass out now!

#30daysofautismacceptance #2022 #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #neurodivergent #actually ADHD #actuallyadhd #Long Post #Very Long Post

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