I guess DARE wasn’t a thing in Goron City

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

eijirou kirishima | f!reader, DARK CONTENT, drugging, noncon, but also the reader isn't not into it bc like...i have my limits okay, talk of vomit for a sec (no actual vomit), degradation, bondage, size kink, hair pulling, ripping clothes, slut-calling once or twice. minors dni!

— 3k words

"'S this what you need, Sweetheart? Y'need me to use you to get off while you just lie there and take it?"

"See somethin' you like, Sweetheart?"

"U-Um," you flush a deeper red than the stranger's hair and pray he can't see it under neon red lights. Either way, you've been caught red-handed, and recoil. "Sorry."

The stranger's crimson eyes soften before relaxing into a kind smile, and he lifts a dismissive hand. "I was just messing with you! That's on me."

He lifts a hand to scratch the back of his head and the smile grows wider, displaying the rows of predatory sharp teeth that shouldn't look as gentle as they do. You relax in the seat to his right, immediately turning to the bartender to order a funny named a drink. The redhead raises an eyebrow, leaning his arm on the counter.

"A Stranger Danger?" He nearly deadpans.

"Club Special," you shrug. You've never been particularly great at holding your alcohol, but this drink provides just enough punch for a buzz, aka what you need to get through the night. The bartender slides over a tall, rose-dyed wine glass without another word.

"Eijirou Kirishima," the stranger says with his sharp teeth, offering a large hand to shake. He looks comical next to you, all hunched over the neon bar while you sit up straight for your head to reach his shoulder, and as you take the handshake, can't help but notice how his palm eats yours like it's nothing.

"Y/N," you smile. His hand lingers before it pulls away, and he tells the bartender he'll have what you're having.

"So," Eijirou starts once his order has been placed. "You come here often?" You snort at the cheesy line, and the way Eijirou smirks implies he knows just how cliché it is.

"Sometimes," you shrug vaguely. The club's fairly new, so it's not as if you can say you've been going here for years. You lift the drink to your lips, the sugar-crusted rim tickling the corners of your mouth. "You?"

He shrugs, "When I want to get out."

You nod at that and offer him your glass with a raised eyebrow. Eijirou shakes his head, lifting a glass of his own. Your nose scrunches.

"Beer?"

He takes a sip before answering, lips white from the foam before his tongue licks them over, "Stella Artois. Want some?"

Your eyes shift between your dainty glass and his not-so-dainty one before you snort, "I'll pass."

Eijirou shrugs, reclining back in his seat and beer in hand, "Suit yourself."

You pat your back pocket for your phone, but when you realize there's a loss of weight on one side, you pat your right buttcheek to realize you left your wallet in the car. Fuck.

"Uh, hey," you say, knocking the redhead on the shoulder. You figure he's trustworthy enough, and the bartender always keeps an eye out for you anyway. "I'll be right back—left my wallet in the car."

Eijirou nods at that as you push away from the counter practically shaking your head at how distracted you can be sometimes. Seriously, your wallet?

At least the bartender didn't ask for your ID. Yikes.

You slam the car door shut with a huff, wallet finally in hand as you trudge back to the bar. When you return, Eijirou's got the beer lifted to his lips and greets you with a small wave as you sit down.

"Long time no see."

You giggle while grabbing your glass by the neck. As the club starts to fill out, you begin to shrink into your shell—throwing the entire drink down the hatch fixes you right up, though.

"Oh wow okay, looks like we're just going for the whole thing, then," Eijirou chuckles as he takes a much more civilized sip of his. You smack your lips with a satisfied aah.

"Gotta get the buzz going somehow," you wink, before getting comfortable in your seat. Alcohol warms your veins already, prompting your body to start pulse in time with the bass of the music. Eijirou smiles, watching you.

"You like this song?" he asks softly, before adjusting so you're both sat the same way—elbows and backs against the counter, facing the club and all its chaos. You shrug.

"I guess. I've never heard it 'till now."

He tosses his head back onto his muscled shoulders in a chuckle, and you watch the entire act in slow motion. The glint of his teeth in the neon lights, how his chest balloons and quivers under the weight of a bellow. You find yourself staring much harder than you intend to, but he doesn't seem to notice, eyes locked on the dance floor.

"Touché, touché," he says upon recovery. The alcohol in your veins turns to syrup and time starts to blur more than you're used to it being, body so light and weightless you have to pat the chair to make sure you aren't floating. That usually doesn't happen.

"You okay?" Eijirou frowns when you falter. You pull a smile and nod.

"Mhm," you say, though silently panicking when you feel like you're falling out of your seat. You grip the countertop just in case. "Mhm, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow, "You sure?"

"Yeah," you nod, before clearing your throat. Your body flashes hot then cold, and you wonder if you shouldn't have taken that drink down like you did. "I'm um—I'm going to go to the bathroom, one sec."

You're unsure if Eijirou says something as you leave because you pour all your energy into stumbling across the obnoxiously loud club, filled with too much bass and pandemonium for your liking. You're suddenly overwhelmed by everything and your esophagus goes numb at the thought of vomiting, but you make it to the singles bathroom just in time to shut the door and control your goddamn stomach.

With a sigh, you rest your head against the cool sink. The incessant buzz of the overhead lights is much, much better.

You take a deep breath and flick on the sink. Ensuring it's as freezing as it can possibly go, you launch some into your face. You don't even consider ruining the amount of work that went into your outfit today, because ultimately you aren't sober enough to give a shit, blinking back at your reflection to find it fairly blurry. You nearly stumble and fall, but your vice grip on the counter keeps you alive.

"You okay?"

The second you step back into the noisy club, Eijirou's there—with his sweet sharp-toothed smile, he's posted next to the bathroom door and you find yourself grappling his jacket for stability.

"Whoa—Careful now," He chuckles at your sloppiness with a lifted eyebrow. You blink once, twice—the spots floating in your line of vision don't disappear. His hands snake around your waist to keep you from falling and eating shit, and you dig your forehead into his muscled chest.

"Gotta—I gotta go home."

"Okay," Eijirou soothes softly upon realizing how utterly shit-faced you are. "How'd you get here?"

"Walked," you groan and nearly cry, looking up at him with a pout. Eijirou coos.

"Well, no offense but I don't think you're good to walk on your own, Sweetheart."

His voice is heady with something you can't quite recognize, but it's comfortable, and you melt into his chest with a weak nod.

"Mhm."

"Can I help you home?" He offers with a kind smile. You nod, fists gripping his shirt in tufts.

"Yes please."

"Oop—careful."

"I am al—hic—always so fu—fucking careful," you slur. Your body has gone so numb that Eijirou gave up and resorted to carrying you bridal style the rest of the way instead. But he has to set you down so you can stuff your keys in the door, but you can't even do that right.

"Need me to do it?"

"No!" You puff your cheeks, trying twice more before you successfully get it in the keyhole. "'Mma strong independent woman who don' nee' no mahn."

Eijirou chuckles, and using his big shoulder, opens the door to chauffeur you inside. Neither of you get very far, maybe halfway to your room, before your legs give out and the only thing that saves you is the hand on your waist.

"Down this hall?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod so profusely it gives you a temporary headache.

You blink and you're in your bedroom, your front hitting the sheets with a soft thump. Huh. Maybe he carried you the rest of the way. With a face full of pillows, you groan at the new and improved position as you feel the bed dip behind you, and Eijirou grab both of your wrists.

"You're so cute, you know that?"

Something soft and silk ties your fists behind your back. You recognize the material as the belt from your robe, tossed carelessly on your bed during the chaos that ensues every time you get ready for the club. It's not until you try to pull your hands apart that you realize they're tied tight.

"Pulling is only going to make it tighter," Eijirou says with an absentminded sigh, like he's done this before, and trepidation spikes in your chest once he raises your hipbone and slides a pillow underneath to angle them, the only way you could break free—especially with the new grip on your hips.

"Ei—" you try to squirm, legs kicking blindly into the space behind you, but once he seizes your thighs he's sitting on your calves to keep you in place. There's the undeniable sound of cloth ripping and your behind is suddenly met with cool air, prompting a shiver or two.

"Eijirou, what are yo—"

You're interrupted by a stinging slap to your ass and a growl. "Don't tell me I gotta gag your pretty mouth too, Sweetheart."

His voice is low and sharp with a threat, his grip tightening around your thighs.

"You're soaked already? Fuck...and I bet you taste so sweet too..." he bites back a groan in thought, sliding a finger down your slit.

He clicks his tongue but it's damn near mocking. You gasp as he fills you with two large fingers instead of one, body tensing as the alcohol-induced numbness fades in favor of amplified arousal. Eijirou chuckles at your reaction.

"Taking it so well already," he purrs, hand caressing the crest of your ass. In your defense, there isn't much you can do but take it. Ah-ah, Sweetheart—Speak up for me."

"O-Ow," you hiss when your head is wrenched. upwards via your hair to expose your broken moan. Eijirou's grip only tightens after you complain, and you can feel his hot breath ghost the base of your neck. His thumb finds your clit and doesn't move, it just sits there as heavy weight—and it's just as frustrating as it is teasing.

"Ei," you rasp into the pillow, voice hoarse and thick. "I nee—fuck, more—"

"More?" He chuckles derisively, shaking his head with a tut. "Two fingers and you want more? Fuckin' slut."

Each word is loaded with something pitifully mocking and if you were in any other position you would've curled a lip and spat back. But that's a little hard with your face in the pillow and Eijirou's weight above you, isn't it? You shake your head against his fist until he lets go in favor of crackling a solid hand against your ass.

"Oh, you like that, don't you Sweetheart?" He grunts and his fingers increase in speed, the lewd squelch bounces off the walls of the bedroom and echoes in your head in the most insulting way. "My fingers fill you up that good?"

"Y-Yeah, I—" you choke around drool that gathers in the corners of your mouth and shake under his palm. "Fuck me Ei, I nee—"

The quick spank cracked against your ass shakes you from your thought process. "Dirty fucking girl—you really so desperate to let a guy you just met fuck you like this? So goddamn easy."

But he's removing his fingers regardless, stuffing them between your swollen lips as he assumes the space behind you. You hear the quiet fumble of his belt and the run of his zipper, before you feel his hot cock pressing against your soaked entrance.

Eijirou pushes in with a groan, his free hand finding your hips to keep them in place. Your legs thrash as he fills you up with a pleasurable burn, and by the time he bottoms out, you're positive he's filling you up all the way to your lungs.

"Fucking hell," he heaves above you, and the fingers in your mouth disappear to grasp the sheets. You shake along with him, back straightening in a poor attempt to alleviate the burn—and he barely gives you a second to breathe before he's pulling out and slamming back in.

"Fuck!"

You jump each time the head of his cock rams against your cervix, feet scrambling in a poor attempt to escape. Eijirou growls and puts all of his weight in his hips to ensure you'll stay still, a big hand smushing your face into the sheets.

"Sing for me, Sweetheart—I wanna hear ya."

Your voice cracks as Eijirou speeds up, simply using you for his own pleasure—but maybe that's what excites you the most.

"Ei—"

"'S this what you need, Sweetheart?" He spits, and you can feel the sweat dripping from his shoulders onto your exposed back. "Y'need me to use you to get off while you just lie there and take it?"

You whimper uselessly and nod, but Eijirou growls, yanking your head up for a proper answer.

"I said, don't you?"

"Fuck I—" he hikes your hips even higher for a better angle and gets one, the head of his cock forcing a scream out of your lungs as you yelp, "I do!"

"'Course you do," he chuckles, and drops your head back onto the pillow, "'Course you fuckin' do—"

"Ei-Eiji—" you gasp like you've been underwater forever. "I can't, I nee—"

"Dumb little baby can't even speak," he coos, before his hand finds the sides of your neck and squeezes. "What? Whadd'ya need, Sweetheart?"

And honestly, you're not completely sure what you need, you just know you're chasing after *something—*and Eijirou's got you sprinting after it while you melt into the sheets into a hot, gooey mess. You think the split ends of EIjirou's hair ticking the back of your arms, but you aren't sure. The only thing you are sure of is the burn between your legs and the feeling of being very, very close.

"'Mma cum!" You squeal, the vein in the side of your neck bulging. Eijirou grunts and slides a calloused hand under your stomach to play with your clit, hissing as you squeeze around him.

"Awe, the little slut's gonna cream all over my cock?" He coos, and you're positive his hips speed up just a bit. The grip on your neck slides to the hands tied behind your back for leverage. "Yeah she fuckin' is—I can see your eyes rolling back already."

And he's right, because the weight of your orgasm knocks the wind out of your lungs and your lips round to form and 'o'. You couldn't say if you screamed or not, as the ringing in your ears peaks with your orgasm. The only reason you know Eijirou finishes is because his hips stutter to a stop while you lay face down in the pillow, heart thrumming against your ribcage.

"Hey, you okay?" Eijirou nearly scrambles to get your back on your chest. You know this type of thing gets him nervous, but he does it oh so well, and there isn't much you can do but smile at the ceiling lazily.

"You just railed me into the sheets and you're asking if I'm fine?" You snort at your boyfriend's frazzled appearance—and the afterglow doesn't help, his chili red hair sticking in every other direction except the one it's supposed to.

"Yeah," Eijirou doesn't even hesitate and then gives you a quick peck on the lips. His voice edges on a petulant whine as he says, "I was rough, Sweetheart."

"Because I asked you to be," you quirk an eyebrow and finally, the redhead stumbles to your joint bathroom butt naked. "And don't forget to wet the towel this time!

A little shuffling in the bathroom, and then:

"That was one time!"

"And my vag will never recover!" You holler back. Eijirou just snorts before the white noise of a running sink takes possession of the conversation, and you scoot to the section of your shared bed that isn't soiled with a sigh.

You roll onto your side and come face to face with a framed selfie of you and Eijirou on your first date. Next to that one is first anniversary, second anniversary, third...

Now you're edging on the fifth, comfortable enough where he's walking around with his soft dick out and you've given up in swatting at his hands every time they grab for your tits. You two are comfortable—this is comfortable.

Eyeing the bathroom door, you still hear running water. Sneakily, you reach for the drawer where Eijirou keeps the the ring he doesn't know you know he hides. But frankly, you're the only one who cleans this goddamn house, so it wasn't like you weren't going to find it. You open the red velvet box to blink down at a diamond ring, thumb caressing gem. It glimmers even when the lights are low, and you can't help but be jealous of it—which is silly. You know it'll be yours anyway. The ring is always smoother than you expect it to be, but that thought doesn't last long, because you quickly toss it back into Eijirou's drawer and assume a less suspicious position upon hearing the sink turn off.

"What?" he asks with a small grin as he walks in with a wet towel in hand. "You're giving me that weird look again."

You snort, rolling your eyes before adjusting so you face the ceiling again. Spreading your legs, you demand, "'S nothing. Now clean me up, big boy."

Eijirou huffs at that but he assumes the space between your legs with a light blush. You smile.

He'll do it. When he grows the balls.

Operation: Baby Talk [1/3]

Hizashi pounds his fist against the mahogany door rapidly while Shouta and Oboro stand behind him, Shouta with his standard bored expression and Oboro with shifting, anxious feet. Beside them, a small white cloud floats drowsily with a small grocery bag full of chili bean soup and medicine inside it. 

Unlike the three boys, Nemuri is already living alone in a small apartment complex a few streets away from UA High School, working two jobs to keep up with rent and her own chaotic interests. Although her independence gives them a great place to hang out to play video games on weekends, it also draws most of her attention away from them most of the week. Despite this, Nemuri has always been a punctual, upstanding student who turns in her homework on time and always makes room for friends. Nothing has ever stopped her before, and it still amazes Oboro to see her act like such an… adult. 

Bottom line: Nemuri is a busy bee and it’s not uncommon to not see her for days on end. What is uncommon, however, is discovering she hasn’t been at school or internship for the past three days and apparently called off work for the next two weeks.

This knowledge has been bothering Oboro nonstop. Is she okay? Did she get hurt while on patrol with His Purple Highness? Did she get sick? Is she all alone? Her parents live in Saitama Prefecture, a whole three hours away from Musutafu. If she is sick, knowing Nemuri and her stupid habit of hoarding her burdens to herself, she didn’t tell them or anyone else. Oboro knows for a fact she didn’t tell him, Shouta or Hizashi; the only reason they know of her strange absence was through Iida Tensei, who Oboro shares his math class with. 

“Oh, she called His Purple Highness and told him something came up and that she wouldn’t be coming in for a while,” Iida had told him casually. “Why? She didn’t tell you?”

It pissed Shouta and Hizashi off that Nemuri wouldn’t let them-- her best friends-- know about her getting sick, but it just worried Oboro. It took a lot of convincing, but he managed to drag them with him to the local grocery store, grab Nemuri her favorite soup and some medicine, and come all the way over here. Shouta and Hizashi kept on glancing at Oboro strangely and whispering to each other, but Oboro doesn’t understand why they would act so weird about it. He’s Nemuri’s friend! Friends are supposed to look out for each other, right?

“Nemuriiii!” Hizashi shouts through the door between rapid knocking. “I know you’re in there, I can smell hoe for miles! Open up the mcfuckin’ dooooorrr!”

Shouta lifts an unamused eyebrow at Hizashi. “Dude, what the fuck?” he deadpans, and Hizashi glares at the ravenette from over his shoulder. 

“We’re friends! I’m allowed to call her a hoe.” Hizashi turns back to the door. “Nemuri! Open the DOOR!” He emphasizes “door” with a high pitched shriek, and Oboro shoves his palm into his face to stifle his snorts.

“You guys are both assholes,” Shouta grumbles, though it’s obvious he’s smiling.

The door swings open in a quick arc that slams into Hizashi’s forehead with a comical bonk. Nemuri is standing in the doorway, clad in her pajamas with baggy pink sweatpants and a white tank top with spaghetti straps. Her red glasses sit on the bridge of her nose, her deep indigo hair tied up into a short messy bun atop her head, and her tired blue eyes glare at the boys with exhausted irritation. Seeing Nemuri without her usual playful smile is surprising in and of itself, but Oboro’s sky blue eyes widen at what she’s holding against her chest with one arm. 

A small baby dressed in a cute little sailor suit is leaning into her chest, snoozing quietly with one thumb in his mouth. He looks like the splitting image of Nemuri, with a matching mole under his right eye and pale skin. The only thing that differs from her is the baby’s hairstyle, which is short and curly. 

Nemuri releases the door knob and readjusts her grip on the baby, still glaring at the boys. “What the fuck, guys? You couldn’t even call in advance?” she hisses at them. 

Shouta and Hizashi stare between Nemuri and the baby, speechless, while Oboro’s brain turns like slow moving gears. After a solid three seconds, he suddenly utters a horrified gasp that attracts the eyes of all three friends. “Nemuri! You were pregnant?!” he shrieks.

The accusation breaks the shocked spell in an instant, and suddenly Hizashi is lying flat on his ass, howling with laughter. Even Shouta ducks his face away, trying to stifle his giggles; Nemuri narrows her eyes at Oboro pointedly.

“Oh yeah, I got pregnant and gave birth in three days. Of course I wasn’t pregnant, dipshit.” Nemuri readjusts her grip on the baby again, holding him up a little higher. “This is my older sister’s kid. Say hello to baby Haito, everyone.”

Not knowing what else to do, everyone waves at the little baby, and the baby lifts his head drowsily. When he opens his eyes, Oboro is surprised to find the baby’s eyes are a light blue that matches the hue of the sky above, with faint freckles dusting over his cheeks. Upon seeing the newcomers, the baby fusses anxiously and buries his face in Nemuri’s bust. 

Nemuri’s attitude changes in an instant, from tired and angry to worried and tender. She lifts one hand to gently pat the baby’s back and she rocks him from side to side. “Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay Haito-baby. It’s okay. Auntie Nemi’s here. You’re safe with me,” she coos into his hair, and the baby’s whines quiet down. Her voice is so soft and gentle it warms Oboro’s heart just by hearing it, and he can tell Hizashi and Shouta are just as shocked by her motherly tone.

After the baby quiets down, Nemuri lifts her head to peer at her friends, suddenly tired all over again. “Sorry for being a bitch, guys. My sister and her boyfriend had to go abroad for some job interview in South Korea, and since my parents think her boyfriend is a deadbeat, they want nothing to do with him or the baby. So she gave Haito to me,” Nemuri explains, punctuating her words with a tired sigh. “I’ve had, like, no sleep for the past three days. Damn… and my rent’s due next Thursday…”

Shouta and Hizashi look between themselves, unsure of how to react. Only Oboro is willing to meet Nemuri’s eyes, and worry pangs to life in his chest at the dark bags under her eyes. “When will they be back?” he asks her.

“Hm? In about two weeks, I think,” she says, and Oboro can almost feel her invisible walls rising, guarding her from their worry. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m fine. I’ve pulled all-nighters before, this is nothing.”

“You weren’t taking care of someone’s kid, though,” Oboro gently protests. “Have you been eating anything? Anything at all?”

Nemuri pries her eyes away from his concerned stare. “I had a protein shake yesterday,” she replies stiffly.

Oboro’s brows lower into a frown. “For breakfast or dinner?” he presses.

Nemuri sighs. “Breakfast…” she mutters in response, then quickly shakes her head as a wobbly smile forces its way onto her lips. “It’s nothing. I mean it. You guys don’t have to worry about me.”

Oboro is already shaking his head. “That’s bullshit,” he tells her, and when he sees her shoulders haunching defensively, he quickly adds, “I know you can take care of yourself, but as your friend, I still worry about you. I mean, look at you! You look like you could pass out any second now!”

“I’m fine,” she replies, her tone harder this time.

Oboro stares at her incredulously. Why can’t she just let them help for once? She has it in her mind that she has to be the strong one, the responsible one. Why can’t she see that she’s a kid just like the rest of them? It frustrates him to no end, yet in the depths of his exasperation, an epiphany comes to mind.

“Why don’t I help you take care of him?” he offers, and his friends’ eyes fall on him in surprise. 

“You? Help me? Take care of… a baby?” Nemuri echoes, her words slow and meticulous as if she were taking her time tasting a treat, figuring out whether she liked it or not. She glances down at the baby in her arms, then to the small cloud floating beside the taller boy, eyeing the small grocery bag full of medicine in particular. Oboro has never seen her look so… anxious before.

Assuming she’s just not used to being offered help, Oboro goes on cheerfully, “Yeah! I have a little brother, remember? I’m a pro at babysitting!” Something about his words is bothering him, the reason flapping seamlessly in the back of his mind, though Oboro can’t pin down why. He just smiles joyfully at her, hoping his smile is convincing enough.

Finally, Nemuri sighs. “Come around six tonight,” she tells him, her tone strange. “Haito usually gets fussy around dinner time.”

Oboro flashes her a thumbs up. “Bet!” he cheers.

Nemuri smiles at him, and Oboro’s heart gives an unexpected beat; somehow it feels different from her usual broad, gleaming smiles. He doesn’t have enough time to decipher it before Nemuri quickly bids them goodbye and closes the door, disappearing back into her apartment. 

A long beat of silence passes between them, and Oboro doesn’t dare move his eyes away from the front door. He can feel the hot stares of Shouta and Hizashi on his back, pinning him in place like a butterfly on a bulletin board.

“Holy fucking shit. Did you just…?” Suddenly, Hizashi’s face splits apart into a bright smile, and he latches his arms around Oboro’s to shake rapidly. “Dude, I can’t believe you did that! You’re so smooth!”

Oboro blinks at him owlishly, still not comprehending what just happened. The flapping in the back of his mind is deafening, now. “Eh? What’d I do?” he asks.

Hizashi laughs loudly. “Don’t play coy with me, bro! You totally went, ‘fear not, my love. Even if this child is not mine, I shall support both you and the baby!’ That was so domestic it made me blush!” he squeals.

The puzzle pieces finally fit together in his brain, and a blush hits him with the speed of an oncoming train. Suddenly, he remembers the faint blush on her cheeks, and the tender pull of her smile. Although Nemuri is the type of person to extend a helping hand out to anyone in need, she rarely accepts help from anyone else. In spite of that, she’s letting him help her with taking care of her sister’s baby? 

Oboro has no idea what expression is on his face right now.

“Oboro.” Shouta’s stern voice reaches his ears, grounding him before his brain could float into the sky like a balloon. He slowly turns to face the ravenette, and finds Shouta watching him with dark, serious eyes. “Do you have any idea what you just did?” he asks, his tone flat.

Oboro blinks slowly, his brain slow and muddled yet filled with thoughts moving at the speed of light. “I… said I’d help wit’ da baby…” he murmurs dumbly, the words feeling alien on his tongue. Shouta sighs.

The trio finally gather their wits and begin walking away from Nemuri’s doorstep. Oboro is suddenly thankful her apartment is on the first floor; he doesn’t think he has the motor skills to walk down stairs right now. “I know you said you have a little brother, but it’s been seven years since you had to change a diaper. Do you think you can handle this?” Shouta asks the taller boy, and Oboro wrings his hands together tightly. 

“I mean, yeah, why not?” he replies, more so to convince himself. “Between me and Nemuri, how hard can it be?”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Garth & Dick Grayson, Garth & Donna Troy, Garth & Dick Grayson & Donna Troy Characters: Garth (DCU), Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, Lian Harper Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, snuggling and fluff, self indulgent fic, Cuddling, Hypothermia, Canon Typical Violence, Swearing, POV Garth, Fluffy Ending, no beta we die like Garth, Dick Grayson needs to sleep more, Cold Water, inflatable rafts, Garth has the power to make a mini hot tub, Titans, Titans (1999) feels, Blankets Summary:

The one where Garth has to save his idiot best friend from dying of hypothermia. Incredibly self indulgent with many snuggles.

.

.

.

Garth decided that the next time he had a bad feeling about something, to ignore Dick, and say no. It was for his own good.

 Then.

One of the best parts of living in Titans Tower was that he could set the temperature of the indoor pool.

 It was the middle of February, outside, temperatures had dropped below freezing, but inside the heated water, he was nice and warm. Gliding through, he spun and twirled just for fun. And of course, to show off for his delightful little niece Lian.

“Catch me!” Lian ran off the diving board, a gleeful expression on her face as Garth dove up through the water, snatching her out of midair. He leaned straight back to create a massive splash (not at all enhanced with his powers). All the while keeping Lian completely dry. “Again! Again!” She cried, laughing her head off as he carried her on his shoulders, depositing her on the side.

 “One more, then bedtime. Promise?” Lian was tough to bargain with, a real smooth talker – just like her dad. As it was, the precocious little five-year-old titled her head to the side with a frown.

 “Hmm. I want two more times.” Two? He’d be getting off lucky, he’d been planning on three.

 “Deal.” He immediately replied. Lian padded off towards the board again, carefully walking (they’d told her enough times not to run).

 “Lian, sweetie.” Garth turned to see Dick and Donna walking in, in uniform. He frowned; they didn’t have a mission scheduled for tonight. Lian changed course, veering off at Donna’s call.

 “Hey, sweetheart.” Dick intercepted, swinging Lian up in his arms into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and Lian giggled back. “It’s bedtime for you, little bird.” Her face morphed into a frown.

 “But Uncle Garth said-”

 “Sorry kiddo, I gotta talk to your uncle Garth.” Dick smiled at her lovingly. “Can you go with Auntie Donna? She’s going to put you to bed with Aunt Toni. Okay?” Garth swam to the edge of the pool, Lian’s lower lip was forming into a defiant pout.

 “Sorry, fishsticks, we can do it tomorrow. Three times.” He promised. Somehow, he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of the third round. Fortunately, his luck held, and Lian decided three times tomorrow would be good enough. She nodded, squirming towards Donna.

 “Okay.” She replied. Dick passed her over and stuck a hand over the edge of the pool. Garth took it, and they both pulled; he nearly flew out of the water.

 “Here.” Donna passed him a towel as she left. “See you in a bit.”

 “Bye, fishy.” Lian called as the exited the room, giggling as Donna gave her a little tickle. Lian was such a precious child, Roy was truly blessed to have her.

 He turned his attention to Dick. ‘Have you been sleeping?’ is what he wanted to ask; he was paler than usual, and the bags under his eyes were becoming more pronounced (again). But Dick never took to the question kindly, and at this point, Garth had learned to pick his fights. “What’s up?” He asked instead. Dick gestured towards the locker room.

 “Quick mission, you, me, and Donna. I’ve been hacking the H.I.V.E.’s servers, they’re receiving an arms shipment tonight in about an hour by boat, you game?” Garth nodded hesitantly, the bad feeling from before returning. The others were busy tonight, they likely wouldn’t have any backup.

 “How long did that take you?” He asked nonchalantly. Dick shrugged, but his bloodshot eyes spoke for themselves. Garth repressed a sigh. Fighting Dick Grayson would be counterintuitive, at least if he went, he could keep him out of trouble.

 “Meet in the bay in fifteen.” Dick instructed. “Glad to have you on board.” He grinned, and Garth did his best to ignore how unhinged he looked. This was a bad idea.

 Now.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” Garth grumbled. Cold wind stung his face, as he ducked another punch from the enhanced guard. Dick finished off the normal guards on the left, and Donna was locked in battle with another meta to his right. Fighting in cramped spaces was never fun.

 “Quit whining Gill-for-brains.” Dick teased he’d just finished off the last goon. He turned, chucking a wing-ding into the meta’s palm. The man roared with fury and charged.

 It seemed to happen in slow motion, the wind picked up on the rickety little speedboat, Dick stumbled as he dodged, the minute mistake was all the meta needed. Garth ran, but the meta was closer – he didn’t have a chance.

 “Shit.” He cursed as he watched Dick tumble off the side of the boat, into frigid waters.

 *SPLOOSH*

 “Fuck.” Donna muttered next to him. The meta turned back towards him, invigorated by his victory. Garth cursed, he couldn’t leave Donna alone with two of them, Dick would have to wait, but he needed to hurry.

 “Fucking asshole!” Garth yelled, anger burning in his chest. He let out a violet blast and kicked the man in the knee. “That was my friend!” The meta swiped at him, but adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Ducking, twisting, turning, blasting, he unleashed a barrage of fury on his opponent. All the while, they sped further and farther away from where Dick went under.

 Garth screamed in fury, unleashing a final blast at the man’s head, and finally the man stayed down.

 “Go, I’ve got this one.” He was way ahead of her, running to the side of the speeding boat. His muscles burned from exertion, but he pushed through. “I’ll meet you with the copter!”

 “Nightwing!” He called, diving off the side. Swimmingly in the opposite direction, he scanned the horizon for motion – damn Dick for making his costume so hard to freaking see against the night. “NIGHTWING!” He repeated, frantically picking up speed.  

 His pulse pounded in his head, it was cold out, and while he was resilient to the sub-freezing waters, Dick was human. It didn’t matter how well-crafted his suit was, it wasn’t watertight, and in this weather, it wouldn’t take long for hypothermia to set in. The currents were strong, and the boat had been moving fast, it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since Dick fell in but, he was no where to be seen. Garth tore on, cutting through the choppy waves.

 Finally, he caught a spattering of bright yellow on the horizon – a small inflatable raft was tossed about on the rough sea. There was only one hero (okay probably Batman too) that kept a life raft on him. Fear seemed to pierce through his chest as he willed the water to push him forward. “Nightwing!” He called again, surfacing just next to the little vessel.

 No response. His chest clenched with anticipation and worry as he carefully placed a hand on the lip of the float. Gingerly, he pulled himself up, careful not to overturn it.

 Dick was sprawled on the other side, violently trembling, as one of his arms dangled over the side. His skin had a grayish tone, ice had frozen chunks of his hair. Panic clawed at Garth’s sides. “Dick?” No response.  He scrambled across the raft and pulled the shaking figure into his arms. Dick’s eyelids fluttered behind the lenses on his mask.

 “-ayy?” He mumbled a string garbled words, weakly squirming as Garth pulled him close to his chest. “-oo ‘ot” He protested, Garth kept his grip firm, and stood, hoisting Dick in his arms and willing water to flood the little raft.

 “I got you, Rob. You’re okay.” He murmured into Dick’s hair, the old nickname slipping out, despite the new costume. Shifting Dick over his shoulders, he plunged his left hand into the raft’s water are brought it up to a warm temperature, careful not to make it hot. “You’re going to be okay, just hang on a moment.” He kept his voice steady and soothing, ignoring the anxiety clawing its way up his throat. He had to stay levelheaded, focus on maintaining the water temperature.

 He gently lowered Dick into the make-shift bath, keeping an arm wrapped around his torso, securely locking him in place against his chest. He twisted his legs around Dick’s preventing him from kicking around. Using his left hand, he held Dick’s head above water, and carefully melted the ice in his hair. He hummed platitudes in Dick’s ear, and after a few moments, he settled down.

 “-arf?” He let out a breath of relief at the acknowledgment.

 “You with me?” He gave Dick a gentle squeeze.

 “-ere’s ‘ay-on?” He gulped in surprise, he wasn’t sure, but that sounded like Jason. Dick never talked about Jason. “-e ‘kaay? -iing.” Garth ran his hand through Dick’s hair and thanked the gods for the faint sound of a helicopter approaching in the distance.

 “You’re all right, love, everything’s fine.” He assured, willing Donna to speed up. “Keep still.” Dick was squirming again, but in his current condition it was a fruitless endeavor. He warmed the water slightly, bringing it back up to temperature. Dick’s head lolled against his chest. “Stay awake.”

 “’ired.” Dick complained. Concern tugged at his insides.

 “I know, buddy, it’s okay, you gotta keep your eyes open for me, alright?” Dick mumbled in acknowledgement. They sat in silence for a moment, tremors wracking Dick’s small frame. Humans were so tiny. “How are you feeling?”  

 “’s hot.” Dick wriggled, trying to pull out of the warm water, again Garth just gently restrained him.

 “Sorry, big brain, you gotta stay put.”

 Dick began mumbling again, Garth only caught the word “skiing” from the gibberish. The wings of the Titan’s helicopter drowned out whatever it was Dick was trying to say. Donna swooped down moments later, scooping them both up, and carrying them up to the small cabin.

 “Great Hera.” She shook her head, fretting as she unzipped Dick’s suit. Garth quickly discarded his wet clothes, vigorously toweling off before hopping in a spare set of pants from a bin they kept in the back. He yanked out boxers and sweatpants for Dick.

 “He’s not making sense.” Garth advised, tossing the clothes onto a nearby seat. Dick swayed on the spot as Donna removed the top half of his drenched suit, and Garth quickly made his way over, placing an arm on his side to keep him upright.

 “Well, that’s what happens when you decide to go swimming in Febuary.” Donna rolled her eyes, but her tone was worried. “You won’t do that again, will you?” Dick’s teeth chattered as he stared past her in response. Garth grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his torso, swapping places with Donna to take off the bottom.

 “The things we do for love.” Donna said wryly, passing him dry clothes. She started toweling off Dick’s hair, as Garth gently patted down his legs with another towel.

 “-ing on?” Dick muttered. “onna?” Garth guided his feet into the pants and pulled them up.

 “I’m right here, sweetheart.” Donna pressed a kiss to his temple.

 “Alright, almost good as new.” He grabbed a blanket off the dash. “Donna, care to join?” She grabbed a second blanket, and the two of them half carried a stumbling Dick Grayson to the cot in the back.

 “I’ll have to take over when we land, but we should be good on autopilot for now.” They threw the blankets over the group, sandwiching Dick in the middle. Garth breathed a sigh of relief, slipping his arms around Dick’s torso and pulling their chests together, making skin-to-skin contact. Donna shuffled closer, scooping his legs together and curling around them, leaning her head against Garth’s side. He leaned back against the wall, together they made a little cocoon of warmth, his naturally high body temperature easily heating their little nest under the blankets.

 “Methinks, we should take a vacation. Somewhere warm.” He suggested, contentedly cuddling Dick close to his chest, the anxiety of the last hour dying down at last. Donna snorted next to him.

 “You remember our last ‘vacation’?” She asked sarcastically. Garth nodded. A disastrous trip to a remote island, plagued with storms and infighting, the latter of which was caused by a villain with a grudge. With a specific dislike of their shivering friend.

 “Dick thinks it’s a good idea, don’t you?”

 “Mm?”

 “Close enough, I’m taking it as a yes.” Donna laughed; warm air tickled his arm.

 “Shall we go to the Grand Canyon?” She teased.

 “No.” Dick stated, catching them both off guard. “Garth is a fiiiish.” Even delirious, at least Dick understood Garth plus hot, dry climate equals a bad idea.

 “Well, he’s not wrong. I am a fish.” Garth grinned. “We could go to another island. With more houses.” He suggested.

 “’ruce hass a islaand.” Dick noted. Of course Batman owned an island. Though, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to an island Bruce had bought.

 “Okay, that sounded like an endorsement. Boy blunder, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Donna put a hand on his forehead, brushing his bangs to the side.

 “’m fineee.” Ah, yes. Dick Grayson; the pinnacle of good health.

 “See, he’s fine Donna, sheesh, what are you getting so worked up for? The man wants his vacation.” Donna rolled her eyes.

 “He’ll kill us if we drag him on vacation.” She muttered. Though, in his current state, that was highly unlikely.

 “Donna, I’ll kill him if he tries to get out of bed for the next two days.” He assured. Dick would be a nightmare to deal with, but on the bright side, he’d been scheduled to babysit the next few days, and Lian would love another friend to join in watching My Little Pony and Barbie movies.

 “Agreed.” Donna noted.

 “Dooon’t, kill meee.” Dick squirmed again.

 “Dick, Garth won’t hurt him, he doesn’t have it in him.” She knocked her head against his shoulder. “He’s a big old softie.”

 “Heee’s fiiishy.” Dick agreed, relaxing back into his arms.

 “Okay, no one let him near Lian.” Garth joked, taking Dick’s hands in his. Color seemed to be returning to the surface of his skin. He pressed the side of his face to Dick’s ear, nestling his head back against his chest.

 “Youuur warm.” Dick let out a long yawn, sending shivers down Garth’s spine.

 “A yes, another brilliant deduction from the Boy Wonder, Wondergirl, how does he do it?” Garth teased. He felt almost giddy now that Dick was in better shape than before. They’d still need to be careful, but the stress of the situation was slowly leaving him as they snuggled together.

 “It’s his big head, it makes space for his big brain.” He laughed at Donna’s remark and pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. It was a big brain, but a dumb one sometimes too. The conversation hit a lull, and they sat there, in silent companionship with one another.

 After a while, Donna passed him Dick’s legs. “I’ve gotta to land, take care of bird-brain.”

 “Tweet.” Dick commented as she left. Garth wheezed to stifle laughter.

 “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Donna called from the front.

 “Am.” Dick muttered.

 “Can’t argue with that.” Garth asserted, tucking his legs up underneath Dick’s. As they neared the landing pad, he breathed yet another sigh of relief. He wasn’t thrilled with the state of events, but they’d been lucky tonight. He wouldn’t be attending another funeral tomorrow. Dick’s heart was steadily beating, his breath seeming to get easier with each passing moment. As they landed in the bay, Garth decided, that for tonight, that would have to be enough.

Boys Like You

Written for Day 1 of Malex Week 2020 | Prompt: Meet Ugly | In all honesty, this is probably closer to meet awkward than meet ugly, but. . . close enough.

Summary: Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

Read on AO3

Alex shook coffee drops off the small spoon on the edge of the cup he just finished stirring and took a gingerly sip, wincing as the hot liquid rushed over his tongue. He’d barely had time to swallow before a thud followed by a hushed curse made its way from the hallway leading to Maria’s room.

A man, half-dressed and frazzled, hopped on one leg into the kitchen, his other leg being shoved into a pair of pants gripped tight in his hands. The man finally succeeded and immediately turned his gaze to the floor, apparently too focused on his search to notice Alex’s presence in the room. Judging by the man’s bare feet and empty pockets, Alex would guess he’s looking for his shoes, perhaps a wallet or keys. Neither things Alex had noticed laying around since waking up, but it was just after 5:30 in the morning. It was possible he’d missed them.

Alex took another small sip of his coffee, content with watching the man fumble about the house. As he bent over to search the floor, his still-unfastened pants dipped to reveal a slim, muscular back and black briefs. He wore a white t-shirt, frayed and stretched around the collar from wear. The shirt’s tight fit around the man’s shoulders and arms revealed modest but impressive muscles, especially when he flexed them to lift up the living room coffee table. Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

A few seconds of fruitless searching later, Alex took pity on the man. “What are you searching for,” he asked loudly.

The man — Curls, Alex decided to call him, in absence of a better name — tensed at his voice, twirling around. His eyes landed on Alex and narrowed. “Who are you?”

Alex arched an eyebrow at his defensive tone. “Maria’s roommate.”

“What are you doing up so early?”

“This is my house,” Alex answered, waving his hand around the room as if to display the evidence. “I should be asking that of you.”

Curls tilted his head as if to begrudgingly acknowledge the truth of his statement.

“What are you looking for?” Alex repeated when it seemed like Curls wasn’t going to say anything else.

He shoved his hands into his jean pockets with a short, high-pitched chuckle. “My, uh, shoes and wallet.”

Alex allowed himself a moment of satisfaction for guessing the missing items correctly before responding. “I haven’t seen them in here” —the kitchen, he means— “and you seem to have checked the living room pretty thoroughly. Try the hall by the front door.”

Curls complied, ducking out of sight for a few seconds before returning with shoes in hand and a square-shaped bulge in his back pocket. He nodded his thanks, plopped down onto the nearest couch seat, and slid the shows on. He paused and looked to Alex before asking: “Got any coffee?”

Alex couldn’t say no to that head of hair and hopeful expression. He motioned to the coffee maker behind him which held the leftover coffee from the pot he was currently drinking. “Coffee mugs are in the cabinet above it.”

Curls rubbed his hands together eagerly and made his way towards him, briefly brushing his arm against Alex’s on his way past. He grabbed a cup from the cabinet as directed and poured the rest of the coffee from the pot into it. It was enough for just under a full cup.

“Don’t have cream, but the sugars still out,” Alex offered apologetically. He felt strangely responsible for feeding the rough looking man, despite usually avoiding Maria’s occasional one-night stands.

“This is great,” Curls assured him. He grabbed the clay sugar holder and lumped the sugar straight into his cup, not bothering with the spoon on the counter.

Alex’s eyes widened at the minimum of half-a-cup of sugar disappeared into the dark liquid. Alex liked a spoonful or two here or there, but part of what he enjoyed about coffee was the bitter flavor. It did wonders for waking him up. Curls apparently felt the opposite.

He wrapped his hands around the mug and took a big sip, unfazed by the high temperature. Alex followed suite with his own and they stood in comfortable silence for several minutes.

Suddenly, Curls sucked in a breath. “Shit, I’m running late.” He downed his drink and reached past Alex to rinse it out with soap and water before placing it in back in the cabinet where he got it.

“Oh, thanks,” Alex said, appreciative of the action. “Where do you have to be?”

“Old man Sanders’ Junkyard. I’m a mechanic. He likes early mornin’s.”

Alex nodded and leaned against the counter. He watched Curls pull a set of keys (hell yeah, he was right about that too) from the same pocket as the wallet and head towards the door.

Before he turned the corner into the hall, he spun on his heel to face Alex and grinned, tipping his head towards him in a mockery of the ‘hats off’ gesture, though without the hat. “Thanks for the coffee, Private,” he drawled, relaxed and swaggering. Without missing a beat, he finished his spin and turned the corner.

Alex didn’t move until he heard the slam of the front door shutting behind him.

(It didn’t occur to him until almost ten minutes later when he was putting on his fatigues that Curls had called him private when he hadn’t even told the man his name, much less that he was in the Air Force. It wouldn’t be until after dinner that night when he was doing the dishes that he’d wash the Air Force issue mug he’d brought home from base and realize it was the mug he’d been using when he and Curls had shared coffee.)

—

He didn’t see Curls again for a month. He’d forgotten about him, really, until the man stumbled into his kitchen on a Saturday morning the same way he did last time. He’d replaced the white shirt with a similarly worn grey one, and his jeans had darkened to match. His namesake, his golden mane matted on one side from sleep, hadn’t changed at all.

There was no pandering this time, no awkward questioning. The man merely looked up, smirked, and said, “You again!”

“Me again,” Alex agreed. “What are you doing up so early this time? It’s a Saturday.”

“The work doesn’t stop. If anything, we get busier. People got plenty of time to bring cars by when they don’t need ’em for work. What about you, Private?” Curls asked, tilting his chin up towards Alex’s outfit of sweats and coffee mug in hand.

“I like to keep a schedule, even on the weekends. Otherwise, I’ll never get up during the week.”

Curls made a noise of understanding and took a hesitant step forward. “Got any coffee this time?”

Alex smiled and nodded. “Same as last time. You remember?”

“Of course.” Curls face scrunched up, the meaning behind it clear, at least to Alex. Obviously, he was saying.

Alex reminded himself he couldn’t find it adorable, not when it was on the face of a man who seemed to be somewhat of a favorite of Maria’s. He watched him pour the same, overly large amount of sugar into his coffee as before and swirl it around.

“Spoons are in the drawer beside you, if you need one,” Alex offered.

Curls took a sip before making a face. “Yeah, I probably do,” he said, smacking his lips. He slid the drawer open and grabbed a long spoon from the back holder to stir the sugar. With the spoon still in the cup, he took another testing sip. “Much better,” he announced.

“Good.” Not sure what else to say, Alex fell silent and turned his attention to his drink.

“Sorry to steal your coffee and run, but I woke up late on purpose, so I gotta go,” Curls said, almost apologetically.

“I get it,” Alex chuckled. “Not everyone’s a morning person.”

“I’m definitely not.” Curls finished chugging what was left of his coffee and cleaned out his cup, putting it back up like last time.

“You know where your stuff is this time?” Alex asked.

Curls laughed at that, bright and loud. “I do, yes. Little less drinking involved this time around.”

Damn. That meant this, Curls and Maria, was probably going to become a thing. Alex watched him leave and felt a sort of familiar resignation settle in.

—

Alex decided he was crazy. Or hallucinating, maybe. What other reason was there to feel this kinship with a man he spoke to for a half hour twice a month, three if he’s lucky? And yet he did.

He tried not to feel guilty over Maria sleeping in her room during their talks.

—

They were three months into their morning coffee talks when Alex finally figured out Curls’ real name.

The jeep needed an oil change. He could do it himself, he knew how, but his leg made a lot of simple, physical labor overly complicated. It didn’t hurt that the best mechanic in town also happened to be a certain, curly-haired man who worked early mornings at Sanders’ Junkyard.

When he arrived, he stepped out of his jeep to find a familiar pair of boots sticking out from underneath a car parked walking distance from a visibly lived-in Airstream.

“Michael Guerin, the mechanic?” Alex asked, taking a hesitate step forward.

“That’s me,” the voice called. “Give me a second, I’ll be right with you.”

Alex clicked his tongue in response and shoved his hands in his pocket, letting his feet drag through the dirt and sand under him. He didn’t have to wait long before wheels screeched, and the man slid out from under the car.

He stood quickly, wiping grease off his hands with a dirty towel he grabbed off the hood of the car he’d been working on, asking: “What can I help you with?” as he turned to Alex. When his eyes landed on Alex he froze, eyes comically large. “You?”

“Me,” Alex said. “I need an oil change. A friend told me you were the best mechanic in town.”

“A friend, huh?” Michael asked, stepping closer.

Alex nodded. “You and Maria broke it off.”

Michael tilted his head. “Was that supposed to be a question?”

“I guess not.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to need help with an oil change,” Michael stated, looking him up and down.

Alex smirked. “Was that supposed to be a question?” he returned.

“Okay, I deserved that,” Michael chuckled.

Alex’s mouth dropped a little at the sight, suddenly breathless at the sight of the sun’s kiss reflecting off Michael’s immaculate working-cowboy look with his torn jeans and stained black hands.

“You drove all the way out here for an oil change?”

Moment of truth, Alex supposed. “I drove all the way out here for you to give me an oil change.”

A beat, and then, “You know Maria and I are done. She tell you why?”

Alex shook his head slowly.

“We weren’t serious, at most friends with the occasional benefit when we were bored or lonely,” Michael explained.

Alex hunched over and took a half-step back. What was the point in telling him this? Alex had been there; he didn’t need a recap.

“We broke it off whenever one of us found someone we were interested in, no harm done,” he continued, either not noticing or not acknowledging Alex’s reaction. “I broke it off this time,” he said with an air of finality. He met Alex’s eyes expectantly.

Alex didn’t need him to continue to fill in the blanks. He broke it off because he found someone better than either of them. “Congrats?” Alex offered weakly, regretting letting Maria talk him into driving out here.

Michael huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“You, goof.” Michael shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face.

Alex blinked. Him?

Oh.

Oh.

Alex didn’t even try to stop the grin spreading over his face. He took two large steps forward and kissed him exactly what he’d been wanting to do for months. Michael’s lips melted under his, soft and pliant. He deepened the kiss, letting his hands tangle in Michael’s hair, but was interrupted by a whisper of a laugh against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together and opened his eyes, meeting Michael’s shining back at him. “You’re laughing at me,” he mumbled, not moving. His fell back to Michael’s lips, stretching in a small smile.

“Shut up and kiss me, Private.”

And of course, Alex obliged.

The I’m Not Okay Projekt Chapter 2

AO3  Wattpad  Quotev

Mikey moves to walk on the right side of Frank after they leave Mr. McGill’s classroom. “You know, asking questions isn’t a bad thing,” he starts, glancing at Frank. “Finding things out doesn’t make you less than who you are.”

Frank doesn’t respond verbally. He nods and looks down at the pink belt he’s wearing. Pink. Why pink? He shouldn't have forgotten his own belt at home. It wasn’t as though he would get in trouble for it, since it was technically a belt. It was practically screaming “Fag!”.

Frank pulls his arm out of Mikey’s and fumbles open the clasp of the belt, just wanting the flaming neon sign to disappear. He wants it gone. He can’t, he can’t . . .

“Frank? What are you doing?”

It’s Mikey. “Nothing, I’m just taking off my belt. I don’t need it.”

Even with Frank clearly holding the much too large waistband of his pants, Mikey didn’t say anything. He just kept walking at Frank’s side. He unclasps it and practically rips it out of the loops and shoves it deep into his bag before going towards the lunch line. He stands at the end, Mikey next to him, when Gerard appears through the ocean of teenagers.

“Hey can I join you?” he asks.

Frank shuffles to the side. “Yeah, sure.”

Mikey stands slightly on his tip-toes and peers of the sea of students. “Dammit, Gerard. You left Ray alone.” In his mind, it would be more practical for two groups of two people to be apart so everyone had someone and no one was left alone. He wiggles out of the line in the direction of the table Ray sits at awkwardly.

He sits down on Ray’s right, pulling out the little sack of food he kept in his bag.

“Um, hi,” Ray half-laughs, fiddling his thumbs under the table.

Mikey smiles awkwardly. “Hi.”

He opens up the bag and takes out a cheddar cheese sandwich cut in half vertically. Taking the right half, he takes a careful bite and looks back at the lunch line to see if he can find Gerard and Frank. Nothing. Swallowing, he takes a deep breath and prepares to break the silence.

“So, um,” he starts out quietly, “did you understand the whole ‘sexual attraction’ thing?”

Apparently Ray hadn’t been expecting a conversation since his head whips around wildly in search of who Mikey could possibly be talking too. “Oh, uh, not really, if I’m being honest… Is that weird?”

Mikey’s hand finds his inhaler and rubs it three times. “I… I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“It’s probably because I’m young,” he stumbles quickly. “Did- Did you understand it?”

Mikey shakes his head and looks at his hands. “Do you think there- there’s something wrong? With us? With me?” he whispers.

It’s weird since Ray is very particular with physical touch, but he wants to squeeze Mikey in a bear hug. “I- I don’t know… Everyone tells me I should, like, find some girl and fall in love right away. But… I feel like I can’t.” He squishes his mouth to one side of his face and his mind floods with images of pushy uncles and dramatic aunts. It’s not something he realizes he’s doing, but he starts absent-mindedly twisting his skin.

Mikey looks at Ray, trying to send across that he understands, to some extent, but the words won’t come out. He fixes his glasses, mind racing to figure out what to say, what to do. 

“It’s just a weird thought… like, how do people, like, do that?” is all Ray can say, his windpipe feeling like it’s closing up.

“I don’t know,” Mikey says finally. “But, it’s nice to not be confused alone. Y’know?”

Then it’s like he can breathe again. “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two, a sense of understanding and connection flowing between them. Mikey slowly eats his sandwich and Ray sits quietly beside him, picking at his nails.

Meanwhile, in the lunch line, Frank and Gerard stand next to each other, waiting to get their spaghetti and pizza respectively.

Frank looks up at Gerard. “So, you and Mikey are twins? Isn’t that, like, super rare or something?”

Gerard does his common comical blinking act. “Um, no. We aren’t twins. I, uh, I was actually held back…” His face flushes red and he tugs at some stray locks of hair, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Frank apologizes quickly. “I didn’t mean, I just thought, sorry. That was stupid of me.” 

Gerard just shakes his head as he waves his hand. “No, no it’s fine. I just, uh, y’know, don’t like to talk about it.”

Frank nods. “I get that.” He glances down at Gerard’s bag, which has a ton of buttons pinned on. “Dude, where’d you get these?”

He follows Frank’s gaze to find his pin-cluttered bag, the original pattern lost under the coat of art. “I made them. Not all of them are super great,” he sighs, unclasping a slightly smudged pin with a jack-o-lantern. “This was one of my first tries. It’s not that good,” he laughs.

Frank looks at the pin with wide eyes. If he was animated, they would probably be sparkling with excitement. “That’s so rad! Y’know, when I’m old enough, I’m gonna get a tattoo like this. ‘Cause I like tattoos and Halloween. I mean, that’s my birthday and all, but like, the jack-o-lanterns are one of the coolest parts. And the costumes.” 

“Whoa, dude, that’s so cool! Like, out of all the days in the year, you got yours on Halloween! The chance of that happening is, like…” he trails off, looking down at his dress shoes.

Frank looks at the pin in Gerard’s hand. “I don’t know, small? Fractions aren’t my strong suit. Do you, um, could you make me one of those?” he points to the pin.

“Oh, you can have this one. I’ll make you more, but I just need to focus on school…”

Frank nods, taking it gently and slipping it into his pocket. He looks forwards, seeing that they made it to the front of the line and takes a plate of spaghetti without any tomato meat sauce, while Gerard takes a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Gerard would absolutely love to unload all of his issues with math and science, but he finds stuffing his face with pizza far more appealing, so he walks beside Frank to the rickety lunch table in the back of the cafeteria. There Mikey and Ray sit, doing absolutely nothing.

“Did you guys talk at all?”

The two share a look and Ray looks over at Gerard with a wide smile. “Yeah, a bit. I still want to see your drawings!”

Gerard looks around at the three of them, all eagerly looking at him. “Uh, okay,” he mumbles. He slips out his large sketchbook and sets it on the table. He’s all of the sudden acutely aware of the entire student body around them. “Could we, uh, look at these outside?”

Ray looks at Frank, who shrugs. “Well, Frank and I sometimes went to this small part of the field right outside of the football stuff. It has a nice tree.”

Mikey easily gathers up his long-finished food and stands up, with Ray following suit. Frank scoops up the sketchbook and leads the way to their old spot. The halls are oddly barren for a high school. Frank and Ray lead the brothers outside a set of double doors to a large grassy field.

In the corner is a large oak tree, where the group heads over to sit in its shade. Frank takes out Gerard’s sketchbook and eagerly awaits to see the contents. He quickly peels it open and is met with sloppy sketches and mysterious food stains.

They’re quite good if Frank can even think that, seeing as he can draw just about a stick figure and that’s it. The lines aren’t uniform, but it somehow adds to the charm. Harsh shadows and angled features somehow give it a more authentic feel, rather than rounded out cartoons. Little bits of information about clothing or the characters’ bodies are in a messy scrawl near the spot it’s referring to.

He flips through a few of the pages to find most of them are like that; half thought-out characters with random, on-the-spot backstories.

Ray peers at the scrawled and scribbled on pages. “Gerard, this is so good!” He turns to Gerard, who is smiling bashfully.

“It’s really nothing-” he’s cut off by a look given by Mikey over his glasses. When Gerard has stopped, Mikey grins, showing his teeth, and looks back at the page.

Frank, being the one in charge of maneuvering through the book, turns the page and is met by a full-body sketch of two men dancing closely against one another, looking as though they’re leaning in for a kiss. He looks at every line with more interest than he should. Why can’t he look away? Why is he so interested in this one drawing? It’s not like he can . . . envision himself like that. No, he’s not gay.

Everyone stares at the drawing. The air surrounding the four is still and quiet, yet somehow charged and vibrating. No one dares look away, if out of fear of seeing someone or making eye contact, it’s unsure.

Then, as the tension becomes too much, Gerard snatches the book out of Frank’s loosened grip. “That- That was just…”

“Hey, Gerard, it’s fine,” Ray quickly assures, waving his hands.

Before the silence can stretch on, there’s the sound of someone walking up to them from the left. They turn and see Samantha walking up to the group. She stops as soon as she realizes four people are looking at her in surprise.

“Hey, Mikey.” She waves with a grin as she sees the bespectacled boy.

Mikey waves back, though less cheerily. “Hi.”

“Why did you say hi to Mikey and not me and Ray? We’re in your chemistry class!” Frank whines, flopping back on the grass.

Gerard looks at Samantha and then the three others next to him. “Who is she?” he asks Mikey. “How do you know each other?”

“Advanced English,” Mikey states simply.

Samantha doesn’t seem to notice the lingering stare the two brothers share as they silently communicate since she clears her throat. “Um, I just wanted to tell you I think the music room is free this period. I think they have a bass… an electric bass,” she clarifies at Mikey’s unamused expression.

Mikey’s head whips around to look at Samantha with wide eyes. “Really?! You’re not joking?!”

“I think it’s for the band, but they keep the instruments in there.” She shrugs, acting as though it isn’t a big deal, despite Mikey thinking it is.

“Oh, that’s so grea- gr- that’s so awesome!”

“We could go now if you want,” she suggests nonchalantly.

“Are there guitars?” Ray finds the courage to ask.

Samantha glances over at Ray like she hadn’t realized he was there. “Oh, um, I think so.”

Ray beams at her, unaware of her shifty gaze. Like Ray, Frank smiles up at her too. “Let’s go!”

She stiffly nods and holds a hand out for Mikey to take, but he ignores it and stands up on his own, not using his hands at all. Gerard follows suit, then Frank and Ray. Samantha leads them through the barren halls and up a couple of flights of stairs, considerably slower for Mikey’s sake until they reach the music room.

Mikey rushes to the front of the group and opens the door, scanning the room until he spots the electric bass in the corner. He beelines for it, hands hovering over it as if it were a holy relic. Ray busies himself with turning on the amp as Mikey delicately slings the bass across his chest, feeling the familiar weight of it. His fingers slide across the metal strings, and he closes his eyes and puts his hands in place. 

He starts to strum a simple bass line, feeling the vibrations of the bass and strings with his hands, the sound ring through his chest. His palms buzzed with a comfortable life pulsing through that reaches all the way down to his feet.

A teacher looks up from their desk, eyes magnified by their thick glasses. “Samantha, who are these people?”

Samantha looks over to the music teacher, tearing her gaze away from Mikey. “They’re my friends, Mx. Kloppenburg. I think two of them can play an instrument so I brought them here.”

They look over Mikey, completely lost in his own world, and nods approvingly. “I can see that.”

While Samantha and the teacher are chatting about her violin playing and Frank ogles over a shiny red electric guitar, Gerard looks over at ray. He finds Ray already looking at him. “Mx.?” Gerard mouths in confusion. 

Ray furrows his brow and shrugs slightly in response. “No idea.”

“Ray?” Frank pipes up. “Do you think you could teach me to play T.V. Party?

Ray looks at his friend. “Dude, of course!” He smiles widely.

“I wanna see you play first. I thought the guitar in your house was your dad’s, so I didn’t think you played.”

Ray shifts a little. “It, uh, was my sister’s.” Before Frank can respond he starts to play some riffs.

His fingers slither up and down the neck, while his other hand is strumming a simple pattern, but the array of chords make it sound much more complicated than he makes it. Frank watches in awe at the skill Ray shows.

“D’you think that I could do that? With enough practice?” Frank asks, and Ray nods, but otherwise continues to focus on his playing.

During this, Samantha had wandered back over to Mikey. Having overheard Frank and Ray, she looks at Mikey. “Could you help me get better at bass?” she asks.

Mikey doesn’t respond. He starts to play a riff, caught up in the feeling of finally having a bass in his hands again. Ray, hearing Mikey play, starts to play over top of the bass line. The strings blur on Ray’s guitar while Mikey’s hands slide up and down the neck like it’s covered in grease.

At the notice of a new addition, Mikey breaks out of his bubble and beams at Ray, who’s smiling like a wild man right back at him. The more they play, the more in sync they get. Frank, Samantha, and Gerard watch the pair play, listening only to the other’s instrument.

Samantha shifts around slightly. “So, Mikey, where did you learn to play?” she asks, but Mikey doesn’t seem to register that someone is speaking to him.

Right then, Ray’s hand slides up to the top of the neck, letting one long booming note ring out. Mikey looks over with an approving beam and proceeds to give the solo of his life. It’s full of energy, unlike Mikey himself. He puts all of his strength and heart into it. His hands move up and down the strings like fire, low notes filling the room, and thrumming through his body. As he finishes and the adrenaline of playing starts to wear off, Mikey hears Ray start to play a solo of his own.

It’s a sight that makes him feel like he’s intruding on something, but at the same time can’t bring himself to look away. Ray’s thumb strums at an impeccable pace, making it look effortless after years of practice. His eyes flutter shut at some point, getting lost in the feel and the rhythm. He’s on his own, locked away in his own mind, ignoring the world around him. Both hands are moving at an incredible speed, it’s as graceful a ballerina, but just as wild as a raging hurricane.

Ray’s hair brushes around his neck and shoulders with each brash head turn. The part of his lips grows wider as he exerts more energy. He grows increasingly powerful like it’s the guitar that gives him his life source. Mikey watches as his fingers fly across the frets, his hair flies about, the way his eyes are closed the entire time. Mikey wishes he could see more. He wants to listen to Ray playing his guitar all the time.

“Hey, lunch is finishing soon. We should stop and pack up,” Samantha interrupts, causing Ray to suddenly stop his playing. Mikey barely holds back the sudden need to snarl at her.

“Yeah, sure,” Ray says with a soft smile, adjusting back to the room. He sets the guitar delicately back onto the stand like it’s a priceless gem. Mikey takes the bass back to its respective stand and gently puts it back, longing to have played longer.

Once everything remotely expensive is out of harm’s way, Frank jumps onto Ray, causing him to stumble back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were that good!? You should play guitar, like, all the time!”

It’s clear Ray wasn’t expecting any compliments, so he just awkwardly laughs. “Um, I didn’t think it was anything special.”

“But, you guys did that on the spot. That’s pretty awesome,” Gerard admits, half smiling at Mikey. Mikey blinks back, wondering why Gerard is looking at him.

“You were great Mikey!” Samantha says, closer to Mikey than he remembers.

“Uh, thank you,” he mumbles, stepping away slightly. “Ray, you, um, you were really, uh, good,” he stutters, avoiding looking at Ray all together.

“Thanks,” Ray responds quietly as he finishes packing his backpack.

“Before you go,” a voice pipes up, it’s Mx. Kloppenburg, risen from their chair. “The staff and I are going to be planning the talent show to be sometime in December. I think you two could get in if you tried out.”

Mikey shakes his head, holding his glasses with the tips of his fingers. “No, I- I can’t p- per… play in front of everyone. Sorry.”

Mx. Kloppenburg smiles. “No, it’s fine,” they assure before turning to Ray. “Would you be interested?”

“Maybe…” Ray admits, raking his bitten nails up and down the arm of his blazer.

Mx. Kloppenburg nods. “Well, if you ever want to practice, the music room is open at lunch and before and after school. You can use the guitars here too if you need them,” they assure. 

Ray is about to assure them he won’t be needing any guitars since he has an acoustic at his home when Frank takes the opportunity instead. “Can you play?”

They smile sweetly at him and laugh. “Yeah, I had to learn a bit of everything in college.”

“Could you teach me then?!” Frank practically yells.

Mx. Kloppenburg flips through a few sheets on their desk before looking back at him. “Are you in my music class?”

“Um, no, I, um… I’m taking language and computer science,” he mumbles.

“What’s your name?”

“Frank. Uh, Frank Iero.”

“Well, if you’re free on Tuesdays after school, I could fit you in for about half an hour,” they say, sifting through more papers cluttered on the desk.

Frank nods. “Um, yeah, that should, uh, that should work.” He’s clearly more nervous than before, but no one says anything about it.

“Alright.” Mx. Kloppenburg looks at Frank. “See you Tuesday,” they confirm with a smile. The bell rings signaling the end of lunch.

“Where are you guys headed?” Frank asks as they all leave the classroom.

“Math,” Mikey deadpans and he walks to the staircase of death.

“Oh, I’m headed downstairs too. Biology.” Samantha smiles.

“So am I!” Frank bounces over to Mikey. Samantha follows them down the staircase and Ray and Gerard are left alone.

Ray looks over at Gerard with his lip squished to one side of his face, realizing he’s never been alone with him before. “Where are you going?”

Gerard thinks for a moment. “Cooking, I think. You?”

“Oh.” Ray blinks. “So am I.”

Gerard nods. “Cool, cool. So, uh, should we walk there?”

“Sure…” is all he can come up with.

The two walk side by side through the halls in search of the classroom in relative silence, just absorbing one another’s presence.

mcu spiderman rewrite/au i may or may not do

ok so first quick disclaimer! i do not hate the mcu spider man movies in any way!! i actually enjoy them quite a bit and have seen homecoming like 4 times! and i absolutely adore all the actors in the movies, especially tom, zendaya, and jacob 

but the problem w/ the mcu spiderman movies is,,, they’re just not spiderman. at least from a writing/thematic perspective, which sucks bc so much other stuff about them is great! like tom holland is the perfect peter parker, which is why it seems so close to being right, but with the way the script is actually written... it’s just. not spider-man. 

i feel the need to explain all this/my problems w/ the movies b4 i get into the actuall au idea/plot, so please bear with me for a sec

for context, I’ve loved spiderman my whole life. i’d watch the cartoons when i was younger, and then went back and watched them all again when i was a bit older and figured out how to pirate stuff lol. i didn’t really know how to get into the comics, so i just kinda read wikis and got second-hand info from fanfics and the other movies

to me, spiderman, (at least, peter parker spiderman,) was always about like... a kid, who saw the world was broken and fixed it because he could. he had the power to fix stuff, so he did. 

as a kid w/ mental illness and a not so great home life... that was something really really important to me. to see another kid out there, who’s been through some shit, but finally has the power to make stuff better, so he is! and it would make me think, maybe i can change stuff for the better, someday, if i just get my chance

but,,,,, the problem is mcu peter parker isn’t that. 

instead of becoming spiderman bc he knows there’s bad in the world and wants to fix it, suddenly his motivation is impressing tony stark?? and don’t get me wrong i don’t hate tony, but the way they wrote his and peter’s relationship basically trapped peter. he could no longer be his own hero, bc he was tony’s successor. and that's never who peter parker’s spiderman was?? he was never a follower, he was a trendsetter. he didn’t become spiderman for approval, hell he had dozens of newspapers constantly slandering him. 

honestly the following in someone else’s footsteps thing was always a miles morales thing. he had to step up to the plate and fill the shoes of a spiderman who had already existed for years and was beloved by the whole city. obviously thats not all he is and simplifying his character to that is incredibly obtuse, but i bring it up bc tbh alot of stuff w/ mcu peter parker is just straight-up ripped off from miles morales. like how peter now goes to a fancy private school, is no longer poor (which is a huge thing w/ peter parker’s character in like every other incarnation), has a living father figure, and is bffs w/ ned, who is a straight-up rip off of miles’s best friend ganke. (for the record tho i adore ned and jacob i’m def keeping him in my rewrite,,,, also i’m glad he’s in the movie bc having a plus sized poc protagonist thats not constantly mocked is incredible) 

so, i’m complaining about all this stuff lol but ur probably wondering how exactly how i wanna fix it lol,,,, 

first, give peter an arc thats more than just..... i want tony to believe in me. my idea for that is basically a type of thing where he learns to rely on others! bc like... peter isn’t good at working w/ others lol, he’d much rather do it all himself so no one else gets hurt. (like in the andrew garfield movies where he just,,,, webs his gf to a car so she can’t run into danger lmao) 

the plot would start at a similar ish position to homecoming, though tony never recruits peter for civil war. tbh not sure if it even happened but we’ll disscuss that later

peter’s been spiderman for a few months, after a trip to oscorp left him w/ a radioactive spider bite. currently no one knows about it, and he’s doing a pretty ok job of dealing w/ everything on his own. until he takes down a big bad, lets say rhino for now, and gains a ton of publicity. after stooping a hudge disaster he’s suddenly in the limelight, and catches the attention of one norman osborn, aka the green goblin 

now, quick sidenote. green goblin is genreally seen as pretty goofy, but there are comic versions of him that are legit terrifying. if im being honest i didn’t even know about that version until i read aloneintherains fic birds eating other birds so ig thats kinda ish how i’m imagining this version of norman? though alot more composed, like the man who could someday turn into that 

so norman becomes intrested in my boy peter, and starts sending ppl after him. possibly the sinister 6, but uhh maybe not bc tbh i think this “rewrite” needs to be split into 2 “movies”/works and i might wanna save that for the hypothetical pt2 (btw if i write this it won’t b for a while cause i got other stuff going on but ig if ppl are intrested i might write some snippits/make more content for it) 

so basically the main plot is peter dealing w/ all these big bads on his own, doing ok at first but later getting really fucked up, and eventually revealing himself to ned and mj which ends up being the only way he can save the day in the end. by relying on others! yay!! 

thats it for the main plot, but don’t worry y’all we got other stuff going on too lmao 

so, for one. my boy peter is realizing he has a crush and just,,,, freaking tf out. (i have yet to decide if it’s on ned or mj. or both. sue me) the crush isn’t definitely resolved in p1, but i imagine there’d be some cute thing of him suddenly realizing and freaking out and almost revealing his powers. 

thing 2! tony stark! he is still in here, and still a mentor to peter, but in a pretty drastically different way. one, he doesn't know about peter being spiderman. he doesn't even suspect it lmao. he just gets involved bc of.... some sort of reason bc peter is so smart. do i know why just yet? no. does it matter? probably but i’m writing this pretty late after i had school all day so i’m too tired to care 

bc tony basically gives peter a real internship/mentorship type thing, peter now has access to all this tech!! and all these funds!! fucking lit!! so he changes from his pajama suit to the fancy one, tho he actually built it!! which i feel like him making his suit is a really big really important part of his character. so it doesn't really have all those random things tony added, tho peter might add stuff himself. he gets Karan as a like assistant ai as part of his internship but she never gets put into the suit

for the fist part tony plays a super minor role but like,,,, the first part is about osborn taking an intrest in him, and him confiding in ned and mj. the second part norman is become progressively more dangorus and peter has to fight him and stuff, kinda proving he is strong enough to be spiderman/be trusted to the whole world, beyond just ned and mj. also him actually getting together w/ either one or both of them bc...... bc i want that. 

oh btw idk if tony finds out or not in p2? if he does it’s either at the end or in a scene like the one w/ may bc like. please imagine the shenanigans of peter and ned (who both have high intellegence but low wisdom) in tony’s lab, obviously trying to hide the fact that peter’s spiderman. like he walks in on them and peter looks all frumpy bc he’s been trying to change real fast, and ned’s shirt is messed up bc he just stuffed the mask down the front of it, and mj is just. chilling behing them. so tony just like assumes stuff and is like....aight.... have fun.... 

oh btw the last big change that i didn’t really have anyway to insert natrually into this,,,, so remember how i said ned was kinda a ripoff of ganke? well, the writers claim he’s a “composite character” so i figured, why not give him traits from other famous spiderman side character so he actually is a composite character! 

so like,,,, throughout p1 it’s referenced that ned has a kinda dickish estranged ish dad that he hates and his mom doesn't really like but kinda forces him too... theres some mentions of his dad wanting him to transfer to a private school and being kinda rich, bur he dosen’t want to bc he knows his dad is a total dickead,,,, anyway end of the movie we find out norman osborn is ned’s dad, and ned hates him even fucking more bc it’s like bitch?? u tried to get my (maybe) bf murdered?? tf?? and its lowkey bc he can’t reveal peter’s id, but then in p2 after norman takes matters into his own hands and tries to kill peter on his own ned just fucking yells at him while the man is in jail and is like fuck u lmao 

soooo thats my really messy au idea!! i’m really tired sorry if this is hard to understand or rude! for the record i have nothing against the ppl who adore these movie’s, i just think they could be better! 

Jack in Wonderland, chapter 2

Fandom: Xiaolin Showdown Pairing: Jack/Kimiko

AO3

Kimiko Tohomiko prided herself on being a good person. She literally spent her childhood directly combating the forces of evil, for God’s sake.

Yeah, she might have let her temper get the best of her once or twice, and okay, sure, maybe she shouldn’t have beaten the stuffing out of Jack Spicer more than once just for shits and giggles, but she couldn’t imagine a reason to deserve this. Raimundo had done way worse things than her in his youth — switching to the Heylin side for starters, hello — and he ended up their leader at the Xiaolin Temple.

He hadn’t woken up one morning as a rabbit.

She heard Jack before she saw him, screaming bloody murder as he plummeted. She couldn’t exactly fault him for it — the fall was terrifying, and even she would have screamed were she able to — but she could find his high pitched screeching incredibly annoying.

She wondered if he’d survive the fall. She had, a few times now — although how, she had no idea — but the spattering of suspicious dark smears that speckled the ground and surrounding walls in the general area around the mouth of the tunnel was… concerning. It always gave her chills, coming back here. Her nose twitched as she inched back a bit, his shrieks rapidly becoming louder as he fell. She remembered him being surprisingly resilient when they were kids, but it didn’t hurt to remove herself from the splash zone, just in case.

He appeared suddenly in a blur of flailing limbs and a resounding crunch as he collided headfirst with the enormous pile of sticks and leaves that served as the only barrier between the freefall and cracked marble tile. For someone as tiny as she was right now, it wasn’t too bad as far as cushions went, but for a grown man… She squeezed her eyes shut just before impact — he might not be her favorite person in the world, but she didn’t need to watch his bloody demise either.

“Oh my God.”

She hesitated very briefly before daring to open her eyes again, and was greeted with the sight of a disheveled, terrified-looking Jack Spicer, sticks in his hair and a smudge of dirt on his nose. He looked around wildly, eyes bulging, only his head visible from her frustratingly low vantage point.

“What… what the fuck?” he breathed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped harshly. “What the fuck?”

He crawled haltingly out of the sticks, wincing as he went, and Kimiko shrank instinctively in the admittedly sparse cover of shadow she was in. He hadn’t appeared to have noticed her yet, and suddenly she was very keen to keep it that way. Except as he extracted himself roughly onto the filthy tile, feverishly trying to dust some of the dirt on his jacket, some of that dust wafted over in her direction.

Oh no.

She tried to hold it in, she really did, but her nose began twitching of its own accord and her eyes were watering with the effort. ‘Not yet,’ she thought desperately, ‘not now. Don’t make me—’

He caught sight of her just before she lost the battle. “You,” he said, blinking at her. “What are you — how’d you get down here?”

‘Shit,’ she thought, and sneezed.

The transformation was violent and instantaneous. One second she was huddled in a corner, face three inches off the ground — the next, she towered over Jack’s quivering form, limbs crying out in agony as the world exploded into color. It almost knocked her off-balance, going so suddenly from four legs to two, her floppy rabbit ears transforming back into long pigtails as her actual ears moved back down her skull in a fraction of a second. She wobbled on her heels, but caught herself before she could face-plant onto Jack goddamn Spicer, gritting her teeth against the pain and the vertigo. She was better than that.

If his eyes had been bulging before, they were practically popping out of their sockets now. His gaze migrated up her figure, cheeks reddening, from her thigh-high socks slinking past the tops of her stupidly impractical high-heeled boots, up her absurdly short skirt and its matching tweed vest, to the top hat perched somehow at an impossible angle on the top of her head. He gulped loudly. “Kimiko?”

She tugged at the hem of her skirt self-consciously and scowled. “Spicer,” she replied shortly.

“What the — But you were…? And how did…? A rabbit?” He shook his head as if to clear it, his hair showering leaves and broken twigs. “I must be dreaming.”

“Sorry, no chance,” she said, but he was still shaking his head.

“No, no, I fell asleep in the woods, and now I’m dreaming.” He eyed her again with renewed interest and a slow, lopsided grin spread across his face. “What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

In an instant she’d laid him flat on his back with a boot to the chest, heel digging hard into his stomach. “Don’t,” she hissed.

“Oh boy, oh geeze, not a dream,” he whimpered, eyes watering. “I’m sorry, okay? Let me go!”

She let him suffer for a few more seconds before she freed him. “Nice to see you’re still just as spineless as I remember,” she commented drily as he wheezed, clutching his chest.

“You’re mean,” he said, rubbing the spot where her heel had been. “And strong. How was I supposed to know? I was at a party, just minding my own business, and suddenly I’m falling and you were a bunny with a top hat, and—”

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered.

“—And now I’m somewhere underground being assaulted, and, and…” He looked around properly for the first time, eyes wide. “Where are we?”

“I…” Kimiko hesitated. She considered lying for only the briefest of moments, but showing temporary weakness in front of Jack Spicer was the lesser of two evils at the moment. “I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly.

“You don’t know? How could you not know?” He gestured wildly at her. “You were a rabbit!” he exclaimed, as if that would somehow bestow her with encyclopedic knowledge of their current circumstances.

“I know, okay?” She folded her arms, gritting her teeth as the dull ache in her limbs twinged at the action. “But I don’t know why. Or where we are. Or why you’re here.”

He picked at the leaves in his lap with the hesitant air of someone caught between disgust and intrigue. “Why am I here?” he mused vaguely, before fixing her with an accusatory glare. “You brought me here.”

She curled her lip. “Believe me, I already wish I hadn’t,” she spat. “I forgot how annoying you are.”

He stuck his tongue out at her in response.

She rolled her eyes and turned to regard the length of the hallway, which was dim and empty and seemingly endless. She didn’t want to go back down it, but that little anxious tug somewhere in her stomach was back, urging her on. She couldn’t ignore it. She’d already tried.

She got about five steps before his voice stopped her, now tinged with panic. “Wait, where are you going?”

She exhaled deeply through her nose before spinning back on her heel. “Away from you,” she said, which wasn’t technically a lie, but perhaps a tad cruel as his eyes widened comically.

“W-wait! You can’t just leave me here!” He shuffled towards her on his knees, leaves trailing after him.

She rolled her eyes. “Watch me.”

“B-but we were just starting to get along!” he said, making the most pathetic attempt at a winning smile she’d seen in a long time. “What’s it been, five years? Six? There’s so much to catch up on… How’s, uh, the gang these days?”

“First of all, it’s been eight years, and no, we don’t. Also, none of your business. I have to go.” The tugging was more insistent now, and her fingers were starting to twitch.

“Please, no, wait!” He scrambled to his feet and suddenly he was looking down at her now. She blinked at the sudden change. He’d always been taller than her, and had obviously seemed ridiculously so when she first saw him as a rabbit, but he’d seemed like the kind of person who’d done all his growing at once and peaked at 14. On those few times he’d crossed her mind in later years, she’d always assumed she would have kind of caught up to him by now. Clearly that wasn’t the case — the top of her head barely cleared his shoulders, and she had a feeling that was only because of the heels. She scowled.

“Spicer, I don’t have time for this,” she said impatiently, turning away again. “I have to go.”

“Go where?”

“Just… go.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You brought me here, and now you’re just gonna leave?”

“Looks like it.”

“How am I supposed to get back?”

Kimiko exhaled loudly. “I don’t know, okay? Figure it out.”

He paused, turning to inspect the gaping mouth of the tunnel in the ceiling, which suddenly wasn’t quite so gaping any more. He stared at it. “It’s closed,” he said, unnecessarily.

She’d been dreading that possibility. “So it seems,” she said flatly. “It does that sometimes.”

“Is that… blood?”

Kimiko shrugged. “Might be.”

He looked back at her nervously. “We’re stuck,” he said.

“Yeah.”

His lip trembled. “Have I ever mentioned that I don’t like being stuck? Underground? In the dark? With blood?”

“It’s probably come up at some point,” she said dismissively. “Good luck with that.” She started walking.

In his defense, it took a whole thirty seconds before she heard him frantically running after her. “Hey, Kimiko, wait up!” His voice echoed over the empty tiled hall.

She counted to ten in her head, very slowly. “I’m not your babysitter, Jack.”

“Hey, you got me into this mess in the first place,” he retorted. “I would be happily recovering from a food coma right now if it weren’t for you, you can’t just abandon me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to follow me, you know.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? A rabbit pops up out of nowhere in a suit and a top hat and you expect me to ignore it?” He gestured to her outfit. “I mean, what is this? How do you keep your hat like that?”

“I never pegged you for a fashion geek,” she said, avoiding the question.

“I’m not, I just…” He gestured wildly, and accidentally knocked the hat off her head entirely. It fell to the floor with a muted thump. He froze instantly, expression like a deer in headlights. It would have been funny, if the growing pit of anxiety in her stomach hadn’t been gnawing at her. “I-I’m sorry!” he squeaked. “Please don’t kill—”

The hat was on her head again, although neither of them moved. He stared at it.

“It’s fine,” she said stiffly. “It happens sometimes.”

He knocked the hat off again. It came back.

“I-it…” he began haltingly, and raised a hand to push it again.

She smacked his arm away. “Will you stop that?” she said irritably.

He blinked rapidly, mouth flapping open and closed like a fish out of water, his already pasty skin utterly bloodless at this point. “What is this place?” he whispered hoarsely.

“If I ever find out, I’ll let you know,” she said curtly, and began walking again. The anxiety vanished instantly.

He stumbled after her. “H-hey, I was thinking,” he said, voice wavering and thin. “Maybe I could come with you.”

“Oh, really,” she said flatly.

“Y-yeah, um… You’re going somewhere right? Maybe I could help.”

“Help?” she repeated with a scoff. “What makes you think you could help?”

“Hey, I’m a resourceful guy,” he said, a little defensively. “I have skills.”

She snorted. “Well, if I ever need someone to do a little figure skating or fix a toaster or something, I know who to call,” she said sarcastically.

“Look, we’re all alone down here, and we don’t know where we are or why we’re here, a-and this place is really dark and weird…” He inhaled shakily. “A-and maybe you need a little moral support.”

She side-eyed him. “Moral support,” she repeated in amusement. “From you.”

“Yeah, like, so you don’t get lonely. Or — or scared.”

She fought to keep a straight face. “Scared,” she said. “Let me guess, this would be entirely for my benefit?”

His jaw tightened. “Let’s call it a… mutually beneficial arrangement.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re just going to follow me around no matter what I say, aren’t you?” she asked rhetorically.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Probably, yeah,” he admitted. “I mean, c’mon, we’re the closest things to allies we have right now, and we stand a better chance of finding a way out of here together, right?”

“You mean, you stand a better chance of finding a way out of here together,” she corrected with a smirk. “I’m pretty sure I’d do just fine without you.”

“Oh, yeah, Kimiko, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot, I’m completely useless without you around to hold my hand,” he snapped. “It’s not like I’m a certified genius or anything. And you can just forget all those times I helped you and your buddies at the temple way back when. Remember when Wuya ruled the world? Because I sure don’t.”

She exhaled in annoyance. “Relax, Jack.”

He held up a hand. “No, no, you’re absolutely right,” he said, “I should just stay here, leave you to your super important secret mission with your magic hat. Wouldn’t want to get in your way or anything.”

She smacked his hand down irritably. “You’re such a drama queen,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do what you like. It’s a free country. I think.”

Jack’s demeanor changed instantly. “So I can come with you?” he asked brightly.

She groaned. “I regret it already.”

“Sweet.”

Thankfully that was the last conversation they had for a while. She was honestly shocked when fifteen minutes had passed without him saying anything at all, and she took advantage of the silence to examine him out of the corner of her eye. Personality aside — which she was slightly dismayed to report was just as annoying as it had been ten years ago — it was almost hard to believe this was the same kid who used to run around with a monkey tail half the time.

His frame was still lanky, although the precise shape of him was hard to tell under the comically large suit jacket he was wearing. She thought he was rich, or at least had enough money to buy clothes that fit him, but he clearly hadn’t gotten the memo. Those silly fingerless gloves he used to wear covered his hands, and his nails were black and surprisingly well-manicured. The eyeliner was the same, but his face had lost most of the baby fat and he actually had a discernible bone structure now. A jawline, for starters. A pointed chin. His hair, now devoid of sticks, flopped slightly into his eyes, and he’d apparently decided that gauges were still a thing — his were black, of course. Metallic.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “What are you staring at?”

“You look like the eighties threw up on you.”

He sniffed. “And you look like an anime character, but you don’t see me eyeing you like a piece of meat.”

“No, you’re right,” she said. “You did plenty of that back at the tunnel.”

His ears turned pink. “I thought I was dreaming,” he said defensively. “D’you honestly think I’d have — well, I didn’t think you were real.”

“Oh, yeah? Dream of me often, do you?” It wasn’t meant as a flirtation, and he didn’t take it that way.

“No. But if a rabbit turns into a chick in thigh high socks, do you honestly expect me to assume it’s real life?” He looked away again, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”

She sighed. “It’s fine, I guess.” They fell silent again.

“Geeze, how long is this hallway?” he said finally. “Feels like we’ve been walking forever.”

“It varies, I think.” She frowned slightly. “But this is the longest it’s taken for me, anyway.”

“What do you mean, ‘it varies’?” he said, a tinge of nervousness entering his voice. “We’re not gonna be trapped in here forever, are we?”

“…No?” She hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question, and winced slightly when it did.

Jack stopped in his tracks. “We’re gonna die down here,” he said.

“Calm down, we’re not gonna die,” she said, annoyance starting to rise again. “I’m sure we’ll get there soon.”

“I don’t wanna die down here,” he said tearfully, wringing his hands. “Ashley owes me pudding cups.”

“You’ll get your pudding cups, you big baby, now come on.” She yanked at his sleeve and he followed her automatically, still whimpering. It would probably have been easier to drag him by an actual body part, but she refused to touch his hands, clammy and gross as they probably were.

“Have I ever told you that I don’t like being trapped underground?” he whined piteously.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Because I really don’t like being trapped underground.”

“I don’t seem to remember you having a problem in Wuya’s dungeon,” she said.

“That was different,” he insisted. “There was light. And we weren’t underground. Not like this.”

“Tell you what, Jack,” she said. “How’s about you stop whining, and I don’t leave you here all by yourself, hmm?”

He shut up after that.

It took another five minutes before she felt the tugging again, deep in the pit of her stomach. As uncomfortable as it was, she almost sighed in relief. Something must have shown in her body language though, because Jack snapped instantly to attention. “What?” he said. “What is it?”

“We’re here,” she said.

“Where? You just stopped, and—” He blinked. “Oh.”

The hall had changed, mostly because they weren’t in the hall anymore. They were in a vast room — a chamber, really, long and stretching and spacious — warmly lit and covered, floor to ceiling, in doors.

Tall doors, wooden doors, round doors. Upside-down doors. Metal doors. Doors that started halfway up the wall, doors crammed in the tiny spaces between other doors, doors half-concealed by curtains, and doors with no knobs. Jack gaped. “What the…?” He spun around slowly, taking in the absurdity of it all, and stopped. “Kimiko?” he said quietly, urgently. “Where’s the hallway?”

“We left the hallway,” she said absently. She’d already left his side and followed the tugging, wafting from one side of the room to the other, trying to figure out where.

“Clearly,” he said nervously. “But… where did it go?”

“Somewhere else, I guess.” It wasn’t working. She felt her anxiety building, but this time it wasn’t the artificial kind that came when she was “late.” This was all her, because if she didn’t find the right door, she would be late. She didn’t fully understand why, or what she’d be late for, but…

“What are you doing?” He’d sidled up to her again and she hadn’t even noticed. “You look weird.”

“You look weird,” she retorted.

“No, like… Are you feeling okay? Because if you freak out on me, we’re both screwed.” He tittered nervously.

“I can’t find it.”

His brow furrowed. “Find what?”

“The door, dumbass. The door, the door, I can’t find the door.”

He glanced around them. “Well, have I got some great news for you about where we happen to be right now.”

“This is no time for jokes,” she snapped. “I have to go, I’m going to be late!”

“K-Kimiko, maybe you should calm down,” he said tentatively.

“You calm down!” she yelled.

He skittered back, cowering. “M-maybe we should just try some doors,” he suggested.

She stared at him. “Try some doors?” she repeated.

“Yeah! Do you have a key?”

“…A key?”

“O-or we could try without a key first,” he continued hurriedly. He scampered over to the nearest one, an imposing oak that looked like it belonged in a medieval castle, and jiggled the handle. “See? Locked.” He fumbled through his pockets and fished out a small pocket knife, which he used to gouge a small notch into the wood. “One down, lots to go.” He grinned that stupid, nervous grin at her.

…Yeah, that could work, she supposed. Her anxiety drained instantly.

“I — I’m sorry,” she said distantly.

Jack sagged against the wall when he realized she wasn’t going to attack him. “Oh, thank God,” he said. “Have I told you recently how terrifying you are?”

“Not in the past decade, no.” She fished a hatpin out of the brim of her still-jaunty hat and twisted the handle on the closest door. Locked. She marked it.

This was going to take forever.

See You Be Brave;

 Summary: James Buchanan Barnes has been scared his entire life. He was scared when he crossed the pond to fight in the War to End All Wars. He was scared when he followed Steve and fell off of a train. He was scared all those times Hydra strapped him down to a chair and brainwashed him. But this time, it was someone else’s turn to be afraid.

A/N: I hope everyone had a good weekend! Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see xx

“Did you pick up the new recruit?” Steve asked Clint, gesturing to the white van that was currently parked behind him and Wanda. 

“Yeah, and she’s rarin’ to go,” Clint said, sliding the door open to reveal a young, sleeping girl. Bucky’s confusion was evident on his face; what kind of damage was this exhausted teenage girl going to do against superheros like Ironman, Black Widow, or the Black Panther? She could barely stay awake. 

“We’re screwed,” Bucky mumbled under his breath to Steve, who quickly shot him a look, his eyes telling Bucky to give the girl a chance. The girl, whose eyes were finally blinking open and she stretched out her cramped muscles, smiled up at the crowd that was gathering around her. 

Noticing Captain America, she quickly jumped up, comically standing at attention. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’m such a huge fan. Actually, after all of this, could you sign my Limited Edition Captain America Collector’s Cards? I got them-” 

“Please focus,” Bucky cut her off, annoyed by her rambling praise over Captain America. 

He figured he might have made a mistake in trying to redirect her attention, however, when her wide eyes scanned his appearance. “The Winter Soldier? This is SO awesome. You have a metal arm?” She asked questions before anyone could answer them or stop her, “That’s so cool.” Sam could be heard chuckling at Bucky’s expense.

“What’s your name, sweetheart,” Sam asked, trying to get more of an idea of who they were working with. This girl must have been a rather unknown super-human, because none of them were aware of her capabilities, or even who she was.

“I’m Y/N,” the girl grinned, and Bucky was a little more comfortable with the annoyance now that it had a name. 

“And how do you plan on being any help to us, Y/N?” Bucky questioned rudely.

“Bucky, stop-” Steve started, but Bucky shook his head to cut Steve off from lecturing him.

“No, we deserve to know who we’re working with. I’m not babysitting some sixteen year old who got in over her head while we’re trying to fight for our lives!” 

The girl nodded, an almost comically solemn look on her face. “First of all, I’m eighteen, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to be here. My parents totally wouldn’t have let me come,” she clarified, “Anyway, I have the ability to negate other people’s powers. I’m also a really good fighter, although I might not look very strong.” 

Steve shrugged, looking rather satisfied with Clint’s discovery, “Well, we’ll need you, then. Do you think your powers would be able to stop Vision?” 

Y/N thought for a minute. “I’m not sure, since I haven’t tried, but I wouldn’t see why not.” 

“Alright then, Y/N, you’re on.”

“Alright, then, Underoos!” Tony unceremoniously introduced Spiderman into the fight.

“Hey everybo-SHIT,” Spiderman started to greet everyone before he was cut off- literally. He was trying to use his web to steal the Captain’s shield, but Y/N turned off his spider abilities and drained the special fluid from his web shooters. 

“Sorry!” Y/N cringed as she watched the clearly young man fall onto the concrete terrain.

“It’s fine, it’s chill. I’m totally fine,” Spiderman brushed his fancy suit off, a bribe from Tony, probably, “That wasn’t embarrassing at all.” 

“You don’t want to do this, Cap. Just come in with us, while its us, and not some guy who doesn’t care,” Tony pleaded, “I’m trying to keep the team from falling apart!”

But when Steve refused to cave in, all hell broke loose.

Things were going fine for Y/N. She definitely wasn’t carrying the team, like Wanda was, or leading the team, like the Captain was, but she felt like her abilities were contributing somewhat to their success. Spiderman was having trouble keeping up with anyone physically as Y/N drained away the powers that made him special. Keeping the young superhero busy meant the other members of the team could focus on the bigger players like Ironman and Vision.

Ironman, who Y/N didn’t see coming. Ironman, who the girl had never met before, but much admired. Ironman, who noticed how Y/N was personally kicking the ass of his new recruit. To be fair, he probably hadn’t meant to hit her as hard as she did, but whenever she flew back a couple hundred feet into a concrete wall, she didn’t get back up as fast as the super soldiers did.

“Shit,” Spiderman cursed, waving Tony away, “You keep fighting, I’ll fish her out.” He swung over there, his powers now back up and running considering his one hindrance was now out of the equation. “Hello? Girl whose name I don’t know? Are you down there?” Spiderman called, pulling some slabs away slowly to not cause an avalanche.

From a distance, Bucky noticed the lack of bad banter from Spiderman and Y/N. “Steve, where’s the recruit?” He asked, starting to panic, especially when he noticed Spiderman digging around in a pile of rubble. Bucky ran full-speed over to the concrete tomb, yelling “Get away from her! Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” 

“I was just trying to help,” the boy defended himself, putting both hands up and stepping away. 

Bucky glowered at him for a moment, before nodding towards the pile, “We don’t have much time. We need to get moving.” 

Both boys set in, throwing concrete slabs behind them and calling out for the girl who was buried down there.

After a moment of moving stuff around, Bucky could hear the faint sound of a girl calling his voice. “B-bucky? I’m down here!” 

“I’m coming, Y/N, hold on,” Bucky promised her, frantically picking up his pace.

“Well, don’t take all the credit now,” Spiderman said, before adding loudly, “I’m here, too, Y/N!” 

“Now is not the time, Spiderbaby. Pick up the pace,” Bucky grumbled dangerously. Bucky could see a set of fingertips poking up through the pile, wiggling and asking for help. “Right here!” they seemed to scream, “Pull me out!”

“I got you, Y/N, just hold on a sec,” Bucky assured her, grinding his teeth together as he wrapped his fingers around her own. “Can I pull?” 

“Yes, just go slow. I think my leg is caught under something,” Y/N said, sounding so defeated and different from the bright, bubbly girl she was earlier.

Spiderman had disappeared, having gone God-knows-where, so Bucky felt safe in pulling Y/N out of her concrete bunker. “On the count of three, okay? One...two...” Bucky said before tugging gently, exposing the rest of her arm to the sunlight. She was moaning in pain, but Bucky knew it was the only other way to get her out. The way the concrete fell was to structurally fragile to continue moving slabs out of the way.

“Buck...shit, it hurts,” She whimpered.

“I know, but you’re so close,” Bucky promised, pulling her the rest of the way into the sunlight. He quickly cradled her small, broken body into his chest. She seemed larger in life when she first rolled out of that van. Now, however, she truly appeared young, naive. 

“Bucky,” Y/N whispered, almost softly enough that Bucky couldn’t hear her, “I’m scared.”

Bucky knew about fear. The day he got on the boat to cross the pond and fight in the world war, he was terrified. He remembered kissing his mom goodbye, waving to Steve, and heading into the unknown. When Steve came to his camp, dressed in that stupid Captain America uniform, he was afraid to follow him into strange places. The day he fell off of the train was the most terrifying day of his life. He thought he died. Some nights, he wakes up mid-scream after dreaming he was falling again. 

“I know,” Bucky said softly, brushing loose pieces of her hair out of her dirty, sweaty face, “But fear is temporary. You just need to be brave for five minutes, and then five more minutes after that, and then five more minutes after that. And you keep going on like that until there’s no need to be scared anymore.”

“It hurts,” Y/N gripped her side, and Bucky knew she must have had a few broken ribs, as well as her leg that was crushed in the fall. 

“I know, I’m going to get you out of here.” Bucky promised.

Y/N nodded, falling into unconsciousness from the pain.

“We’re both going to be okay.”

Chapter 11 aka “Welcome to Chili’s”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

Oh damn alright that answers my earlier question of “what will cause RGB to make like a cuttlefish”. He can fiddle with his colors at any time, but he’ll fritz and settle on colors after power surges as well

And he DODGES the black button question. Look at that anxious cane fiddling!

White knob handles color, black knob brightness, he’s just shown that the white panel opens to adjust brightness/saturation/color… is the black button just plain off?

“I lose you I leave you” is such a damned lie lmao

Let’s see what kind of Stuff people trade here!

Moments manifest as clocks, har-har

I’m in love with the borzoi vender bc I love borzois they’re such ridiculously ethereal dogs

Don’t like your current eye? Trade it for a better eye!

or you dont care about eyes, just revenge-feelings

Kisses of varying flavors, all shaped like X’s

STOP RIGHT THERE crimincal scum. RGB stole a farewell kiss (HAR HAR). But seriously, does the Market have law enforcement for this kind of thing?

I’m sorry but my shit fandom brain see’s discussion about trading body parts and my mind immediately goes to Skulduggery “lost his original skull when sleeping and replaced it by winning another one in a poker game” Pleasant

Incidentally ALSO a story about a standoffish dapper non-human taking a young girl on Adventures

uh oh

Lmao he ends up dropping his cane in panic

I love the movement in this panel. RGB just scooping her up with one arm

Goodbye New Suit we barely knew ye

RGB’s able to fine tune his pallet extremely specifically for just 3 sliders

This might be my favorite interaction in the entire damn comic

CAREFUL RGB YOUR ATTACHMENT IS SHOWING

I love how RGB decided “you know what i like what that quick camouflage did for my trousers, I’m going to coordinate my upper half to match it”

Interesting visual and sound effect- we saw a character swap out heads earlier without that CRACK. Considering Assok’s had trouble twice now with static cling to RGB’s face, is this an electric spark of sorts?

I like the detail that Watcher only speaks in one word sentences

God but that cane is convenient. What I wouldn’t give to have possessions that are impossible to lose

I love RGB quietly, actually checking in with Assok after accidentally knocking them off Hero’s head

And now for something completely different!

WHOLESOME ASSOK HUG

RGB’s starting to poke her towards her epiphany about the Make Believe

As a someone who spent a long time being a short person that’s such short people talk RGB

Dude I skimmed over Dial’s dialogue this page last time because, really. Look at it. So lets actually read this sucker

Oh shit Dial actually mentions the Elastic Valley way before we get there ourselves

He’s got to what now. TOby is there on a JOB? Someone put him here on PURPOSE? I thought he just ended up there and was so surly to every fucking thing and everyone passing by was like “ok u can stay there rudepants”. What’s he on watch for?? Unless it’s far more punishment than it is useful assignment

Bad puns, go to jail

Oh shit does Watcher have another pair of eyes on his wings? Damn! For a guy with 4 eyes he sure is not very helpful at his job later on!!

Hooo does his boss make Dial nervous. Lookit that stutter and devolution to muttering

When Dial says TOby took his eye off things, is he referring to letting RGB+Hero pass by (how would he stop them)? Is it that the wind blew him over and blocked his vision (THAT IS LITERALLY NOT HIS FAULT)?

And what the hell has TOBy done to defy Hate previously? What does he have opinions that Hate/Dial would have him change his mind about?

See you space cowboy…

And because I can’t make up my mind on what to meme here: “mm whatcha saaay”

A thought on Dial’s design… his head says “ON AIR”. Later we know that Hate can listen in on him. D’you figure he ever makes himself “OFF AIR” other than when he sleeps?

Now this little here combined textbox gives me some thoughts…

I haven’t paid attention to the color of character text beyond Hero’s voice getting eroded by sand, but… boxes can be any color and shape, its not uncommon for characters to have separate fonts, but words themselves? Only ever black and white. Now this could be for the sake of no eyestrain against backgrounds, but... consider the dichotomy TPoH is building up over its story

white in this comic is associated with bad things quite often. Lies, [-----], Hate’s realm. The blinding, scorching, destructive light of the unmasked Sun. meanwhile, darkness hides the Market from danger, and nighttime is tied intrinsically with dreaming. in fact, we JUST had an entire chapter dedicated to framing the Dark as good, protective, and aligned with trees and water, other positive entities

For a minute I got all excited because Dial and the Butterfly both have white text, thinking “oh, my god. do all Hate-aligned characters have white text?” this gets jossed pretty hard by Julienne’s white text, as well as Cell and Tailor.

but while THINKING on that, I jumped back to Storytime in chapter 10 and check this out: the moment RGB starts his story, text is suddenly white. Most of it continues to be in white… except for these two sentences

AND CHECK THIS SHIT OUT: THE TEXT COLOR/SCENERY CHANGE COLOR TO THE FIVE COLORS OF RGB’S SCREEN. HOW DID I MISS THAT??

(flips table) WHAT DOES IT ALL MEEEEEEAN

… y’know, the only character to have a white bubble color for their speech is RGB, who speaks in black

He’s both. He’s NEUTRAL.

Considering my talent for creating OCs but chronic deficiency in building coherent and decisive stories for them, they’re all probably wandering this Market and world right now. at the very least most of them have spent a DAMN long time here before becoming realized (im so sorry guys im trying)

The ones that are complete as themselves but their stories are unstarted/uncertain? That’s like. most of them. whoops. maybe this will be the kick in the pants i need

But on a brighter note: Fosters Home for Unfinished OCs

BUT by the rules of this world, RGB doesn’t have a story… yet this is his story.

Assok’s newest position of travel is adorable and im dying

Y’know… Hero and RGB have very different ways of solving things. A little obvious, but- RGB’s solutions are always convoluted, require multiple steps, and are a little ridiculous. Or, he at least FRAMES them as complex. See: Click escape, train escape, entire scheme to find a Hero to right the world. Hero’s far more straightforward but her solutions are also more, like… sensible than RGB’s if that makes sense. If it was just RGB up on the burning heart his plan would have probably involved more "im very intelligent” and pizzaz, while Hero went for the comparatively simple “lets zipline” (versus RGB’s upcoming Click escape clusterfuck)

All of which to say, I got thinking on that with RGB being like “it’s a very complex topic I can’t possibly boil it down to anything smaller” and Hero describing what the Make Believe acts as in one word

So if this worlds objects come from the sea, the sea is connected to other worlds? And it was confirmed early on that ‘stuff’ and ‘thought’ are basically synonyms- these foreign objects can exist in the Make Believe because they’re infused with enough Stuff!

Hero and presumably all of the other Heroes came from outside the Make Believe… they are not unrealized characters, or they didn’t start out as such. To exist here like this, they must then be imbued with enough Stuff/Thought… if we specify Stuff as equivalent to creative thought… by jove! I’ve hit on (another) theory!

Haven’t all past Heroes been artists? Julienne is a dancer, Melody a musician, Dial works radio, Ticker is a craftsman, and Tailor works with textiles. TOby and Assok don’t have anything obvious, but if I was Hate, I’d turn puppeteers into motionless dolls and empty-voiced sock puppets.

oh yeah, and Click. betcha he was a toymaker

I wonder what kind of artist Hero would grow up to be? She clearly draws, we saw her work taped to her bedroom wall

Of note… RGB is also an artist. It looked like that alternate human-self we glimpse later was involved with TV production, or perhaps script writing.

Tfw your ex walks past and doesn’t even hesitate like wow Magnus be a stone cold bitch like that

also like how his speech tail loops around his neck like a noose upon seeing Maggie

ALSO, that conveniently timed mention of hands when giving examples of what makes Stuff valuable in the Market- the nostalgia and undertones of regret are strong in this one

(watches this character die) oh jesus Christ. (looks at list of decommissioned ocs) ... oops

So this is what it looks like when a character dies… what does it look like when one is realized

do you like puns? want some more quality RGB roasting? like clothes shopping? the next chapter is for you

Every Single Rupauls Drag Race Queen Ranked from 1 to 100 by David Mason You will notice as thece list goes it runs from HARSH to KIND being that we go from people who are wasting our time and perhaps not living an honest fantasy but trying to be something they FEEL they're SUPPOSED to be and talented artists who capture us as they reveal beautifully honest selves which bloom from their unconscious. The Top 25 are ICONIC GOLD and are identities who hold their own amongst all the queens. They are APEX PREDATORS and each could arguably be made number one depending on each persons values. This is MY list and therefore it reflects my values and needs. 100. Phi Phi O’Hara Shes actually the worst for being a horrible person who cant figure out why shes terrible and thats the worst part. I actually BOOED her in public when I saw her. Is it wrong to not like someone just because they were born??? I think it probably is BUT I dont like Phi-Phi because when they showed her mom her mom was like 26 and I just thought YUCK, unplanned pregnancy is just TACKY and I wouldnt have to deal with you if your mom just had the balls to own her own body and be responsible and kind to the Earth and abort you but apparently the apple doesnt fall far from the (say this in Goldie Hawn from Overboard voice) “short, fat, slut" and you come from a long line of short selfish inconsiderate people. Phi-phi is the best case as to why Planned Parenthood should be next to every McDonalds. 99. Kenya Michaels : Oh god Im disturbed by her. She was like that little doll from Trilogy of terror. I found her strong sexual identity so uncomfortable as it was just too obviously a defense mechanism from being a tiny rapeable person from a third world territory. Thats AWFUL to say but Im sorry its just what I saw. I didnt find it funny or sexy. I found it awful and cringy. Its NOT a reason to not like a person but it is a reason as to why I dont want to see her on my tv bending over and WAGGING HER TWAT at me. I dont want to celebrate her complex attempt at molestation management, Im sorry. Lets hope this is me just projecting. I know this is too much for the SECOND entry but Im just saying what I felt. I wish shed read a book instead of just GOING WITH THE SEX THING. 98. Kandy Ho: What gross name, what a skank not even a good skank like Samantha Fox, just a shitty skank. 97. Phoenix: Who? I really have to speed through this list I have to go to the gym. 96. Madame LaQueer: Id put her at 99 but I feel bad for her. Im a nice person. 95. Alisa Summers: i have no idea who this person is 94. Penny Tration: Oh fuck you for that stupid name. Get the fuck outta here. 93.Vivienne Pinay: Why did she think she was pretty or passable or fishy or WHAT? All I saw was “Hi, Can I get the lunch special? I’ll have tai Iced tea with Rad Prik Chicken and coconut soup. Thank you.” 92. Venus D-Lite: Venus is who I think of when I think of queens that dont matter. I didnt even say that to be mean. She just is. 91. Jaidynn Diore Fierce: ??? oh she was the one I think should be named PEANUT. 90. Naysha Lopez: What plane of consciousness thought this person needed to be seen? 89. Sasha Belle: Awkward entry! Rip off Mugler Chimera dress. HERES A TIP PEOPLE, dont try and copy the most amazing well made dress in the world that cost 300k to make and 900 years of 900 year old Parisian couturiers to make. I PROMISE YOUR VERSION WONT BE AS GOOD. If youre going to copy something also make sure said reference has a TEENSY bit of wiggly room for either styling OR improvement. The Mugler Chimeira dress does NOT. Stop looking at it, you cant have it. 88. Akashia: Maybe the first person to fall on the runway??? I dont know? I dont remember her exactly 87. Rebecca Glasscock: I went shopping with Ru once at Saks and a sales girl came up and said “Rebecca works here now!” Ru went from Cafe au lait to FISHBELLY faster than she could mutter... “Rebecca is here?…....now?” thank god the girl was like “Not today”… Cocoa pallor regenerated, shopping recommenced. Rebecca must have been INSANE. 86. Honey Mahogany: Who and Why and whatever…. 85. Derrick Barry: Nope. 84. Robbie Turner: I wish you were Tina Turner 83.Cynthia Lee Fontaine:The cowboy look was like a THANKSGIVING revelation that GRANPA IS A CROSS DRESSER?!?! 82. Darienne Lake: Dip into the cool water of Darienne Lake was the best thing about her and that was Rus doing so.. BYE and shes from like Rochester or some shit. YUCK mid/western New York is SKANK. 81. Ginger Minj: Just everything I don't appreciate. 80. BeBe Zahara Benet: She won season one and I think the prize was 10k and it shoulda gone to Nina. 79. Bob the Drag Queen: After the extraordinarily beautiful Violet won. The audience of sheep were put off by their inability to relate to her because they just arent as good as her so the next season they wrote the season about having a “peoples princess” win and that why we have SHITTY BOB the person who shouldnt have ever been invited. Whats WORSE and MORE ANNOYING is the LATENT worship of Violet after they realized JUST HOW GOOD SHE WAS ONCE THEY SAW BOB and Im sitting here with my fists clenched screaming YOU IDIOTS THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT?!?!?! Bobs season was the worst. 78. Delta Work: Shes the drag queens drag queen. Shes too bitter for tv though. Same reason as to why Jackie Beat isnt on tv, too sour for tv, but thats ok. There is certainly somethig to have the cache of being the type of queen you have to go out to see. When she botched the comedy challenge I felt for her. I could really relate. She has the comic ability and you could just hear the inner dialogue of self sabotage running in her mind. It sucked. Thats one of my challenges too. 77. Thorgy Thor: Funny smart queen that I like. Tv isnt a format that suits her. 76. Sahara Davenport : A sweet soul. 75. Yara Sofia: Ick… The best example of LEARN TO EDIT. Her styling is THE GOOP SHOW. You know how some people just have BAD VIBES? I just dont want her around me. I dont see her vibes swirling in a direction I wanna head towards. I kinda hate dreads, Id lie and not say it to sound cool but there just unsavory to me. Patchouli.. thats what I smell when I see them in my minds eye.They just make me ask.. Why do you deliberately choose to be kinda not so clean? Its some romantic notion I don't prescribe too. Im not earthy in that way. Im Earthy in a watermelons are fierce kinda way. 74. Kelly Mantle: This person is not Christine Baranski! Why are you telling me youre related to a baseball player like Im supposed to care? 73. Magnolia Crawford: ahahahahahahahahahah... that poor homosexual. He MIGHT be more disliked than phi-phi. THAT NOSE gets points.. it HAD to be a critique on nose contour right?! Does anyone ACTUALLY know her?! I feel like this might be some weird dare that a straight guy did and made it on the show. It was all so WEIRD?! 72. Jade. I really dont remember a damn thing but kinda thought she was a nice person maybe??? errr ummmm I just shrugged my shoulders to myself. 71. Lanaysha Sparks: She was quite lovely and even surprisingly talented on the craft contest but not knowing who Diana Ross is and your a drag queen is SATANISM. Poor bitch is from Puerto Rico, do you now Puerto Rico is twice as poor as the poorest state? That sucks. 70.Laila McQueen: Is this an OSBORNE CHILD?? Had she been on previous seasons she would have faired better. Seemed like a kid Id hire as an intern and could trust. 69. Serena ChaCha Oh my god Serena snook right by me?!?! AHAHAHAHAH Serena! Worst look of ALL TIME. how was SHE an art school student?! I cringed when she said that as Im an art school kiid and was like NO NO NOPE TAKE IT BACK CLOSE YOUR MOUTH! Serena was the victim of QUEEN ON QUEEN GANG BULLYING and what was worse is AMERICA BACKED THE GANG RAPE. It was like that scene in The Dark Crystal when the Skeksi looses the sword challenge and they all tear the clothes of him and banish him! Alyssa WENT IN on her….Coco even got a piece of Serena that day! Serena is lucky to be alive. 68. Jasmine Masters: Im disturbed by my own ability to impersonate Jasmine Masters. Its not THAT GOOD but its better than a 225lb Pollock should be able to do. Her Slinky worm routine makes me GIGGLE. She is ANGRY…...BLACK RAGE which I kinda appreciate in a way. I get it. I have gay rage so why cant she have BLACK RAGE?! 67. Tempest DuJour awww tempest.. We all like Tempest. Kinda funny shes a costume design teacher though no? She gave my husband a shirt and my husband wore it for her all day in Provincetown because my husband is like the sweetest person ever. I mean people were like “TEMPEST DU JOUR?!” they practically SPIT on him and he still wore it and he tagged her in the photo and she didnt even regram lolololol My poor husband, I love him so much. 66. The Princess: I made a comment about the Princess' look being shitty on Instagram once and all her fans went APESHIT. It was the two nastiest messages I ever deleted. 65. Monica Beverly Hillz I shoulda put her farther back. She was not so great. 64. Vivacious: Awwww the old battle axe of drag. I support her endaevor but her looks were so dated. I do however respect her respect for the art so… 63. Lashauwn Beyond: That name is so real. You can say she sucks but you can also say shes the spirit of drag taking you “up" so let her be. 62. Mrs. Kasha Davis: WOAH boy did she sneak by me?! She must have got here EARLY and just WAITED. She sucked so hard you kinda loved her for being honest. Kasha was like your olde gay neighbor whos taste level sucks but you respect her because she went through the AIDS crisis and is still smiling. Not even kidding. 61. BenDeLaCreme: I just did not like her. 60. Pandora Boxx: Oh god Pandora. Did you see that Unicorn video she made… bless this bitch. 59. Shangela Laquifa Wadley: Shangela was just cheap. Shangela is like the same taste level as like Paula Abdul, Mad Tv, Khols, a Sketchers Sneaker… I just never like what she does. I dont need it. Its poor person humor. Just because you say something LOUDLY doesnt make it more funny. ( as I type in CAPS) 58. Roxxxy Andrews: This poor bitch dug a damn hole… You know shes not likeable because she was shadey but she was more talented then anticipated in the creative challeges, and I thought she had nice skin. My husband HATES HER. 57. Kim Chi: One note. Refrigerator being pushed down a runway. I actually dont like her for not having the courage to be out to her parents. Its insulting to the rest of us. Buck up bitch, your mom already knows, shes known since you were 2. The fact you think she doesnt know is INSANE. Your non outness renders any talent moot. 56. Adore Delano: Thanks but Ive been to Hot Topic, NEXT. 55: Acid Betty: I don't remember much about the 00S BUT I STILL REMEMBER THOSE WIGS. 54. Courtney Act: Ok sure, but wheres the interesting part???? Her finale dress that was like rainbow hologram acetate was cool and nobody even mentioned it. 53. Trixie Mattel: I tried so hard to be nice to her in Provincetown and she was a cunt. Why are you a cunt to someone being NICE to you? 52. Coco Montrese : I could say mean shit but I wont. shes worked long and hard and deserves a clap. Shes not even a cunt. shes out of touch but shes from another world. Respect your elders. 51. Dida Ritz: Talk about out of touch. Her weird self loathing “Im a white girl” routine turned me into Jasmine Masters?! Like EWWW NO, learn to love yourself BITCH. We all know she did one of the best lip synchs ever. 50. Stacy Layne Matthews: Wait shes NOT black?!??? She was from BACK SWAMP, that gets TREMENDOUS "SWAMP CRED" She was so fat her hormones were just like "WHATEVER.. theres simply "NOT ENOUGH of us to go around?! WE DONT KNOW WHERE TO GO.. What do you wanna be today??? When was the last time youve seen your genitals because are you SURE youre still a male?? We dont know and could use some DIRECTION?!” and I appreciate that. I like people who are just like IM WHATEVER. Not everyone has to be a male or a female you know. 49. Jade Jolie: Jade is surprisingly the fishiest queen in my opinion. I saw her at the premiere party before her season started and we honestly thought she might be BIOLOGICAL. This holds some cache in an art of trying to be a woman at least SOMEWHAT. She made the unfortunate mistake of becoming Alyssas ENEMY which at the time was ACTUALLY kinda necessary because if you remember when Alyssa first started she was not the Alyssa we know and love and was kinda of a cunt who needed to get CLOCKED. BACK ROLLS has now been mutters a million times by ME ALONE and lets be honest WERE ALL now VERY CONSCIOUS of our back rolls now. I even got COOL SCULPTING and yes it worked. It works if youre like semi normal with a slight love handle or backroll but not if you have a spare tire because then its just like removing a brick from a wall, and no it didnt hurt, but get it done in Florida because procedures are cheaper there. Florida is basically LAWLESS, they also gave me a VITAMIN DRIP as I did it. That is not legal in NYC. Jade had horrible style and made what looked like NAZI MATRIX PORN but dont imagine that in a good sorta Night Porter chic Nazi way. Imagine it as a black vinyl raincoat that that greasy haired kid in high school who wasnt allowed to be a faggot because you already had that role and did it better so he sorta segued into FETISH GOTH would have and now imagine him filming himself masturbating with a NON APPLE iPhone to a Marilyn Mason poster… That was her porn. 48. Sonique: Sonique is responsible for one of the wisest self realizations to ever surface on RPDR to me. After getting the chop she said something along the lines of “Well I guess theres more to life than being better than everyone.” YUP. Stop competing, life isnt a competition. You do you and thats your challenge, forget about everyone elses storyline. 47. Mystique Summers Madison: DANGEROUS PERSON but such good TV. To me it seems Mystique has the kind of tongue that can only tell lies, which is sad because that means she thinks whatever the truth is is so terrible she has to come up with an alternative. Thats unfortunate. That said I dont want her in my home. If she lies to herself and others this means she feels she doesnt have to play by the rules and probably steals. Did I just imagine her a thief? Yes, I did. I imagined her at a party at my house slipping one of my Versace candy dishes in her pocket WITH THE SOUR PATCH KIDS STILL IN IT. 46. Gia Gunn: Gia to me really is the sorta line between the queens you care about and the queens you take the opportunity to go get a drink while they come on stage. I took my two assistants on that Drag Cruise as a present and I cant remember what exactly happened but somebodies sneakers were TEMPORARILY ABDUCTED and Gia was UNNFUCKED and SURLY ABOUT IT. Gia on the show was half gross and half awesome. I feel shed LIKE to be nice but has so much DEFENSIVE ANGER she can't. Its a mistake as shed be much more successful if she got over that. She really feels herself despite having a wonky eye, really short legs, and likening herself to Talapia and aligning herself to TIM GUNN??? Your fashion references are from TV????!… OH GURL… NO!.… I like her though. Shes a talented performer. I feel like Gia is that friend you have thats sorta like a bad dog on leash. You have to be careful with them when around kind people but theyre also helpful because theyre more than eager to be the bad guy if someone is bugging you. We all have that friend and theyre kinda fierce. 45. Mariah. Mariah walked into the room first episode and I thought DAMN shes FIERCE... and then she never looked that good again. If I was just going by tv, which Im 98% going by shed be placed lower BUT I saw her on that drag cruise and her performance was PERFECT. It was CLASSIC DRAG but executed flawlessly and she was nice when we got stuck in the elevator with her. I feel like she thinks she has to be mean or fierce or whatever when shed actually be more well received if she was the person I saw on the cruise who was down to Earth and chill. 44. Milan: Milan is one of the few New York Queens that Ive ACTUALLY SEEN OUT. These other queens im always like NEW YORK? NEW YORK WHERE?!? Im a third generation new Yorker who has lived here 18 years on my own and Ive never seen most of these queens who claim to be from NYC. Milan is nice and a talented performer. I was never into her drag because shes real STAGE oriented and real JULIARD STYLE ( I dunno if she actually went there) and thats just not my interest but she at least TRIED. 43. Dax ExclamationPoint: I feel Dax sorta made a mistake pigeon holing herself as “Queen of the nerds”, as soon as someone claims identity of something on camera queens for some reason HATE IT. I imagine its some kind of projected self loathing as gays are trained to hate themselves. Like how dare YOU assert yourself as something, you CANT do that youre a faggot. I seriously think this is the unconscious voice in 98 percent of gay guys heads and its why so many are self sabotaging or drug addicts and why there is no such thing as a gay gay icon and even kinda why DRAG EXISTS AT ALL. We cant like ourselves because straight society taught us to hate ourselves so we put it all onto a fantastic woman. Dax seems like a nice person who doesnt have that insane person need to “win” and therefore really shouldnt have been on the show as she just got used as sacrifice for hungrier queens. 42. Kennedy Davenport: Wait did I already do Kennedy Davenport because I really didnt like her??? huh I guess I didnt. Well maybe my unconscious mind liked her more than my reptile ego did and she got placed higher than anticipated. How can you hate on a hard working talent who has a retarded sister she has to support?! Jesus christ give the bitch a tip and never do less than a FIVE when tipping queens people A DOLLAR IS THE SAME THING AS A QUARTER! 41. India Ferrah: Oh god I worry saying mean things about India because I dont want to hurt her feelings as worry that she TEETERS ON SANITY but she to me is what drag is WHEN I DONT LIKE DRAG. Her “combat contour” is brutalist to the point of being vulgar. To me her styling concept is PUT EVERYTHING YOU OWN ON NOW BECAUSE MAYBE WE NEED TO RUN OUT THE DOOR AFTERWARD. I mean its the 8 foot braid with a giant bow, and the top hat, and the body stocking, and the thigh high boot, and the breast plate, now a giant necklace to cover the edge of the fake boobs, now put a spider SUCKLING THE TIT of the breastplate, oh wait I have TWO BOOBS and I NEED ANOTHER SPIDER, now add a couple jewels to the eyes of the spider OH WAIT spiders have six eyes so add four more… now what about belts, I only have TWELVE…. 40. Mimi Imfurst: OMG WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! She fucking CAPTURED India ferrah like some kind of MOUNTAIN TROLL?!?!? That was one of the most amazingly insane moments on TV ever! Then when Raven WENT IN on her in All Stars …omg I have that segment saved on my phone and just watch it when I need to feel “myself” again. Mimi on the cruise actually did the best read on the Michelle Visage roast. Shes smart but lets her inner voices get the best of her. We all have inner voices but I feel chubby people are chubby because the voices are louder. Im not even saying it to be a dick but it seems like with people who suffer from body issues LIKE ME the inner voices are so LOUD you can see them reacting to them on their face. Hang around me long enough and you'll totally see this. This is called being a function insane person! 39. Morgan McMichaels: Ahhh the Morgan McMonkey! Did you know shes actually Scottish, like from Scotland? That didnt come off on the show. Ok Morgan to me is interesting because as a person Morgan is just not my kinda person, she even has a SUPERMAN TATTOO and you know how much I hate Superman as to me he is the OPPOSITE OF CREATIVITY and a HERO TO SHEEP but that does NOT discount her talents. Ive seen her perform live and shes VERY good. Do I want to hang with her NO, is she a solid talent YES. I met her once and she tried to tell me she doesnt eat pork because PIGS DONT HAVE KIDNEYS. She said this while chain smoking cigarettes and drinking heavily… hmmmm. I dont even know how to organize the judgements I have. All this said I feel if Morgan was your friend you could trust her and shed definitely not be afraid of taking a hit to defend you. 38. April Carrion: She is the best example of being chopped too soon. Shes very talented and pretty and makes her own looks and I respect her abilities. She had more to offer as Ive seen other looks of hers and they were good. Too much of a shrinking violet to survive a comepetition. Shes quite lovely Im surprised she hasnt got some rich old benefactor. 37. Nicole Paige Brooks Oh my fuckin god Nicole Paige Brooks?!?!? Nicole is so important as she is SO MANY THINGS. Nicole is the ESSENCE OF REGIONAL TALENT. She is THE small town coke head faggot drag queen WE ALL KNOW. My mom would have had her on PROBATION. The spirit that has possessed Nicoles body is an ancient spirit which haunts every rural gay bar! Remember how she had the hots for Raven and also had FRECH TIP TOENAILS?!…That BODY built EXCLUSIVELY by COCAINE. Ugh.. Ive never even seen Nicole but I know her sooo well. Nicole has that IVE BEEN TO PRISON and ALSO HAVE CHILDREN and ALSO HAVE A CLOSETED BLACK BOYFRIEND vibe that is SO PURE. Nicole is the queen who marches in the regional gay pride parade wearing flat sandals and a bikini and ACCEPTS TIPS while she does it! Nicole might also work at BEST BUY when “O.D” (out of drag). and when in drag theres also the worry that she might ACTUALLY O.D. Nicole is important. 36. Carmen Carrera: Ok Carmen is from Jersey where its NOT EASY to be a gay soul. Carmen once tried to tell me its ok that straight guys call you a faggot there because its not an isult its just what you are… EEEESSSSHKKK That is some HARDCORE Stockholm Syndrome. I could say more but its none of my damn business. Im not crazy about Carmen because I think shes made some choices based on where shes from but thats none of my damn business so I’ll shut the fuck up. To me Carmen is an example of an unfortunate situation. Ive had to deal with those hardened Jersey boys as a kid and as a tender gay boy its NOT A NICE THING and it would have been easier for me if I was just a girl too. Yes shes pretty, I wish her happiness. If I was raised where she was maybe I would have killed myself. In a way she sorta did I guess but also rebirthed herself.. maybe I need to give her more credit. Im going to add this. Most of us have to deal with being a "faggot" in a straight world and deal with it however we choose. I for example fetishisize it as for me its a safe place thats at least exciting as its FIERCE to have your hot husband call you a faggot as he bangs your puss hole out. At least that way youre dealing with the anxiety in a safe place and its HOT its also a lot easier than getting a sex change, pretending it never happened, and siding with your abusers in an effort to make the best of a bad situation. Maybe Ive made the wrong choice, see instead of siding with them and changing my sex I went punk and just write horrible things about them on St Patricks day and work out a lot so I can intimidate them on the street. SIDENOTE I have NEVER had someone make an anti gay comment to me when they're by themselves, have you ever noticed that? The comments are only made when youre out numbered... fuckin pussies. 35. Jiggly Caliente: Jiggly is real. 34. Victoria "Porkchop” Parker: Porkchop must be worshipped as she was sacrificed for all our sins. 32. Ivy Winters: Nobody ever put it together that Ivy Winters looks almost identical to Grace Jones AND Jean Kasem. That is POWERFUL MAGIC. Too bad she didnt know it either because if she channeled that spirit she could have won this thing so damn easy. 31. Pearl: 31. Tatiana: The day Tati steps away from low brow nineties references and learns to kick is the day Tati advances much farther. She NEVER uses her legs and her legs are AMAZING?! I wish she woulda had the self confidence to get tougher on Raven when Raven attacked her on her season because it was so clear that Raven was operating out of total jealousy being both have great beauty but for Tati it was effortless and for Raven its four hours of incredibly skilled painting. Tati was too green to have that wisdom. If she had it…ooooohhhhh it woulda been FUHEEEEIRCE! 30. Laganja Estranja: Oh god… I dont have the mental capacity at this point to go into the psyche of Laganja…Laganja is so important. Laganja is the litmus for bad faggotry because shes ACTUALLY TALENTED, shes got an amazing body, but OH GOD shes a nightmare. You can tell her parents felt guilty and coddled and spoiled their baby gay into a place where the only way she now knows how to operate is to be a needy indulged victim. Her comedy routine with the old people was a SURREALIST MASTER PIECE. Get off drugs laganja, they dont make you cool and needing the crutch of a vice does not a personality make. 29: Jinkx Monsoon: Does anyone else remember how bad she was at the beginning of her season??? She got the ONLY edit and they spun her into a storyline where theres was no way she could loose. Ive seen this storyline somewhere and it was called PRETTY IN PINK. They basically realized she both Molly Ringwalds character AND the Ducky character at the same time and spun a storyline for her to win because they hadnt a queen like her yet. She is talented, not my kinda talent but whatevs, to me shes the MACARONI ART of drag. She woulda been my friend first year of art school but then you have to change schools because you find out she has a crush thats a touch much on you and its weird because you thought you were just good friends. 28. Tyra Sanchez: In person I think Tyra might be the most beautiful of all the queens actually. You won't believe this but its true, she's a stunner. Too bad she just wants to be the best Beyonce, and not the best Tyra. Tyra, you be TYRA because Trinity K already does a waaaaaaaaay better Beyonce to be honest and youre actually so good on your own if you just owned YOURSELF youd be extraordinary. Its a shame she doesnt have the insight or desire to be HERSELF. Isnt that INSANE??? Its why nobody likes her, because SHE doesnt like her?! 27. Alexis Mateo: When you read her name do you also read it with a lisp? I do! Alexis is a sweet person whom I really appreciate and is also a victim of the pageant system. Pageant girls suffer from not fully grasping why the pageant system is bad. Ladies, we dont think YOU are bad, we think youre victims of a horrible oppressive system that wishes to put women into a structure of something like a DOG show. THIS IS DEGRADING NOT ONLY TO YOU BUT TO ALL FEMALES. It attempts to organize the female sex into ONE SINGULAR IDEAL based on the values of MEN and thats FUCKED UP. To organize females into ONE SINGULAR IDEAL is HORRIBLE and ROTTEN. It DEVALUES any ability that men might see as something THEY have to deal with and DENIES ABILITIES and STRENGTH to women creating an oppressive structure for females to operate in. Its GROSS, dont buy into it, its not cool! 26. Shannel: I know you dont agree but Shannel is important. Shannel wears VON DUTCH HATS. Shannels best friend is the WHISPERING FACE in the mirror that tells her to believe insane things. Shannel has THE BEST EYES of all contestants. Shannel belongs to a mentally ill race of people known as SHOW FOLK. Shannel thought JUGGLING while walking down the runway would be IMPRESSIVE. Shannel paid FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS for that garment and Shannel paid TOO MUCH. Shannel WAS NOT ELIMINATED... SHE CHOSE TO LEAVE!….. Shannel is important. OK the TOP TWENTY FIVE IS SERIOUS BUSINESS. These are the APEX PREDATORS!!! Have you noticed as the list has gone on the comments have gone from VENOMOUS and PUNISHING to RESPECTFUL ACCOLADE and thats because as the list goes the talent increases and Im grateful that these people are inspiring, not wasting my time, and are championing values that need to be championed! When I typed this I just got so excited I moved my ENTIRE BODY on top of my little clear desk chair and Im sitting here typing like a GARGOYLE! Every single one of these queens are a WINNER and I mean that. Im not just saying this shit, each one of these queens is a SOLID ARCHETYPE and depending on your own values you could place most of them in the top five and have a SOLID ARGUMENT. This list however is MY opinion and MY VALUES so this is much more about ME than THEM of course. Honestly every single queen on this entire list is a talent and deserves respect for making the effort!... yes even Phi-phi. To be in the top twenty five however means you can STAND YOUR GROUND AND OWN YOUR OWN CROWN. Remember this is MY list. Youll understand reading this list I value creativity and HEIGHT more than anything. Being fishy doesnt count for much to me and if youre dumb and dishonest it aint gonna work out…. Here are THE MOST IMPORTANT QUEENS OF RUPAULS DRAG RACE!!! 25. Jessica Wild: AHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAH How the FUCK did Jessica Wild make the top list?! FUCK YES MISS JESSICA you MADE IT!! Ahahah this is WONDERFUl. I secretly admit I LOVE Jessica. Ill go so far to say shes almost like a KINDER EN ESPAñOL version of Alyssa! Jessica live is FUN and shes VERY KIND. I met her and she was a doll. Jessica is GOOD VIBES. I can totally hang with Jessy. Is she creative? NOPE. Is she Edgy? NOPE. Is she fierce… actually she kinda is???!. Shes a good person who you can tell HONESTLY LOVES DRAG and has fun doing it and THAT is why she made top 25! Shes a pure soul who enjoys what she does and that its the SPIRIT and HONESTY rarely found on EARTH! 24. Max: Max CLEARLY is really into Kristen Mcnemany. Max served us upper middle class white privilege. She was NOT bound by the oppressive low class moral standards of gender and sexuality! Max allowed herself to be flat chested and have GREY hair and this says IM WEALTHY AND EDUCATED ENOUGH NOT TO HAVE TO PLAY BY A MANS RULES AND BE A BIMBO YOU POOR PEOPLE?! Max was well read and Max is probably the most well travelled person in the semi mid west sorta shitty small to medium sized city in which I imagine she is from NEXT TO HER SISTER that was in THE PEACE CORPS (I imagine). I bet Max went to a college that was previously ONLY FOR GIRLS. Off the show Max really gave some fantastic editorial moments. I appreciated Max, she was refreshing. 23. Naomi Smalls: The Praying Mantis of drag! Naomis skeleton is the best of all the girls and thats why shes here. TALL and THIN is SO IMPORTANT. She actually was a nice person and very creative too. I don't like how people discounted her, she was far more creative than most of these people. 22. Milk: Milk is kinda like Max but not as annoying as a person and more “boy aware". Like I imagine sitting on train with Max might be tedious as her affectations are what got her chopped, and Milk though shes a touch WASPY for my tastes is actually cool and smart and you could share and laugh with her. Milk was MY club name in the 90s so thats interesting as were both tall white people I guess that name just gets handed to you. Milk is sorta the Sandra Bernhardt of RPDR to me but maybe its just the STRONG NOSE. I liked Milks Pinnochio A LOT but if I remember correctly she used the same wig or a pair of shoes a few times and that DOES get a deduction. She was REAL "I have a mom who went to college and shes tall and for my birthday she bought me an AFGHAN (the dog)." . SMART WHITE PEOPLE LIFE… basically everyone I went to college with. 21. Joslyn Fox: Jossy Fox is not trying to be anything she isnt and that is her refreshing appeal. Jossy shops at Tj Maxx and has lunch at Panera because she used to work there and still gets a discount because her fag hag never left despite making a lot of lateral moves that took her nowhere. If I had kids Id hire Jossy to babysit them. Jossy asked to have my husband visit her at her dining table on the drag cruise, BUT NOT ME. 20. Willam: I really should have put Willam at a higher ranking place simply because shes a class act and one of the only queens whos never asked for a discount and buys my clothes. She is the one queen who decided to play by her own rules which sorta bit her in the ass ALMOST, but shes also one of the only queens who has her own career outside of RPDR. I like Willam, shes distant and calculating, but so am I. 19. Ongina: Ongina is important because shes the first one to show that to be successful on the show its not about your elaborately constructed artifice that you might THINK is what makes people like you, but about the REAL YOU you fear to show others that is what makes people like you and this TEENY BEING had the balls to do it. Ongina is all about the live performance as shes a total charmer. She can dance in the palm of your hand and sleeps in a walnut shell at night. Her charm is her human connection that you dont get from most performers and you can't really get from TV. 18. Manila Luzon: Manilla gives the best costumes in drag styling. Her puppet faces are great, but ONE TIME USE, so shes a little for the kiddies and straight people who only see her once and dont follow drag so thats why she isnt higher for me. Remember if youre top 25 youre iconic! Im just organizing MY VALUES here so its not about these queens abilities but more about MY PERSONAL AGENDA and how I would ORGANIZE WORLD VALUES should I be given the chance…. (echoing Skeletor laugh) 17. Latrice Royale: Latrice is the spirit of America. If you dont like Latrice YOU ARE ISIS. Watch her performance at the season finale where Violet wins, its sooo darn good. Id love to put her farther up but I cant because she only wears THE SAME PAIR OF SHOES with every look. Lady… lay out some coins stop “living poor”. The moment you spend the dough to move yourself forward YOU ACTUALLY MOVE FORWARD. Stop living in a world where you cant afford shoes, break out of that mindset where youre worried to spend a little cash because you might not have it. LIVE RICHLY…YOU CAN AFFORD SHOES. That said remember CREDIT IS NOT CASH BITCH, do NOT use a credit card pretend you have the fantasy of the security of wealth, but I KNOW you at least have 49.99 for a plus size pair of PLEASERS! 16. Katya. The first time I saw Katya I thought TOTAL FORMER COKE HEAD... and I was right. Thats not a read its just the vibes. I think shes very smart and funny and her finale “read ya” was the best of al of them BUT she got a TOTAL SWEETHEART EDIT BECAUSE ALASKA WAS SLAUGHTERING EVERYONE so they needed to make it seem at least a LITTLE like a competition (though detox was like on another level) but I REALLY dont like that FORCED self deprecation and FAKE NICE LAUGH she gives people ESPECIALLY Trixie.. Stop GIFTING her that reaction, we all see right through it! It comes off like less of a laugh and more of an APOLOGY for existing and you dont need to do it youre fierce, just stop. Before you get too big a head though I have to be a good person and let you know your finale look on All Stars was the THIRD worst look ever to go down the runway behind Serena and Cynthia. Don't believe me???.. check out the hemline. 15 Jujubee: Out of all the queens I think if I had to spend an extended period of time with them Id choose Juju. Shes smart and funny and hopefully that would give me the opportunity to teach her about STYLING because she needs some help. Damn your looks are CHEAP woman. They sell Vogue at the GROCERY STORE!? Im not even asking for the far superior Italian Vogue, Im just saying SHITTY COMMERCIAL GROCERY STORE FASHION MAGAZINE VOGUE. Pick it up and then look at your clothes and figure out the difference. I actually think Juju might be the funniest queen even over Bianca. Shes certainly one of the smartest, and dont forget her library reading was really good. 14. Trinity K. Bonet: I imagine youre suprised at Trinity ranking so high up. Trinity is something I respect.. QUIET CONFIDENCE. Trinity was too damn well mannered to get as far as she should have in the competition and the reason why is Trinity K is the personality type I really respect who is someone who is QUIET and TALENTED. She lets her talents do the talking and unfortunately for good tv you cant just sit there and wait to slay on the runway, you have to have provide soundbytes and dramtic facial gestures for gifs etc. Trinity respectfully minded her own damn business and let her abilities do the talking and I REALLY like that. I went on that nightmarish drag cruise and hands down the best performance was Trinity it was about a ten minute Beyonce number and it was BETTER than Beyonce. It was FANTASTIC and im not even a Beyonce fan. I also think shes very beautiful and has a total Angela Basset quality to her which Im charmed by. Trinity was well mannered and polite and I kinda wanted to be her friend because someone like that benefits from someone like me who isnt afraid to maybe NOT be so polite should the rare occasion call for it. I guess Bianca kinda saw that too. I kinda think for some weird reason Im sweet on her because Tina Turner was my first concert at 8 years old, which I won the tickets to answering Tina Turner Triva on the radio, and that remeinds me of my mom who I went to the concert with and so therefor I want to protect this “good woman”. 13. Nina Flowers: Speaking of good women the next is Nina Flowers. I have NEVER heard ONE person say ONE bad thing about Nina and the multiple times Ive met her she is KIND AND LOVELY. Nina endured that entire CONFLAMA of SEASON 1 and DIDNT EVEN GET THE PALTRY 10k she deserved?! THEN Nina got CURSED with being paired with RAVING MAD WOMAN TAMMIE BROWN and ROLLED WITH IT without complaint. In fact if you watch All Stars 1 instead of complaining Nina handles her like a loving mother who has a RETARDED CHILD who YELLS A LOT. Speaking of YELLING RETARDED PEOPLE one time my husband and I were in Miami and we bought BAD PILLS (is there any other kind in Miami) and were TWACKED OUT ASSHOLES and ran into her and we COULD NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP and she was SO TOLERANT, AND SO NICE, AND SO UNBOTHERED that we almost wondered if we PASSED FOR SANE. Looking back WE DID NOT, Nina was just really nice. Nina is also a great Dj who really gets that CUNT FACTOR and makes for a great night out. 12 Miss Fame: Drag being an art form that relies so heavily on the magic of transformation being the best make up artist of all the queens certainly gets you TOP THREE placement. Too bad Miss Fame is the SECOND BEST MAKE UP ARTIST of Rupauls drag race. If this was a BIOLOGICAL female make-up challenge Fame would be the best, but DRAG MAKE UP is a VERY different art form. Fame had fantastic looks and a greatly appreciate her. I just wish the brains matched the visuals because theyre SO sharp. She really is the Linda of RPDR. Linda was my SECOND choice of the Supermodels, my first was Nadja so you can see where Im coming from. To me alien proportions and snowgress fantasies trump “classic fashion perfection”. 11. Chi Chi DeVayne : Chi Chi Devayne is THE SPIRIT OF DRAG. Chi chi is POOR AS FUCK and still managed to teach herself how to do BACKFLIPS IN HEELS. THERE IS NO REASON FOR ALL OF US NOT TO BE ABLE TO DO THE SAME BUT WE CANNOT! She is THE DRAG ASSASSIN. I respect her SO much. Imagine if she was given the same opportunities any of us in the North East of the United States were given?! When I was a little kid I wasnt rich either but I feel in North Eastern America you can receive a great education and you dont have to be wealthy at all. A good education is just kind of built into the psyche just like our PURITANICAL JUDGEMENT. I mean as a kid I grew up in a tiny single parent home next to a pond and it certainly wasnt GLAMOROUS but if I felt like it my 8 year old self could wander over to the neighbors house which was basically THE ADDAMS FAMILY MANSION to me which belonged to the professor who established the local community college and Id just sit there in his living room while he and his wife watched JULIA CHILD Id point at the random objects hed collected from around the world and ask “Whats that?!” and hed reply “That is a TURKISH BULLWHIP!” FIERCE?! ..with that information alone not only did I learn of exotic locations I never heard of I knew I TOO wanted to go there AND had the ability too. Something tells me being from Louisianna Chi Chi didnt have the opportunity to learn how to cook LONDON BROIL (I still remember Julia saying “Ooh this roast is SPITTING at me) while sitting in the dark at a baby grand piano while a Grandfather clock gonged in the background like these people did. It would be VERY EASY to be an angry bitter person coming from her situation and instead Chi Chi took it upon herself to excel to the best of her abilities and BOY HAS SHE. I feel Chi Chi was THE BEST when it came to Lipsynch for your life. All she needs is 12 months, a handful of those McDonalds gift certificates you got at Halloween, a stack of VHS tapes of STYLE with ELSA KLENSCH, 6 National Geographic magazines, and everyone dies. Chi Chi is FIERCE. 10 Chad Michaels: Being the number one Cher impersonator in the world gets you top ten placement forever. Its not debatable its DRAG LAW. 9.Tammie Brown: Tammie Brown is an UNCONTROLLABLE FORCE OF NATURE. Tammy is the SWIRLING POWER OF CHAOS. GRAVITY DECIDES TO LEAVE WHEN TAMMIE IS AROUND! Tammies superpower is that she holds no power unto her own but EVERYONE ELSES POWERS ARE RENDERED USELESS WHEN SHE WALKS IN THE ROOM. NO QUEEN has any power over Tammie and for THAT ALONE she gets top ten placement. Have you ever seen those crazy cat videos of cats reacting to people who throw a cucumber on the ground? If you havent, check them out, but in a nut shell cats are for some reason TOTALLY FREAKED OUT by a cucumber sitting on the ground. They go from acting relatively sane to COMPLETELY BIZARRE at the toss of a cucumber... well TAMMY IS THAT CUCUMBER. 8. Bianca Del Rio: Bianca is a hard working professional and a talent and Im glad we have her on “our” side as I cant think of any straight comedian who could beat her in a "read off". She doesnt particularly check any of my boxes as what she is Im not super into but you cant deny her abilities. Shes the sharpest tack. My friend Bradford hired her for a dinner and it was fine and fun and all and as she was walking out the door my NUMB NUT husband brings up “but what about the movie youre making?” this of course lead her to go on about how shes raising money etc so then BRADFORD THE ASSHOLE makes everyone say how much theyre going to donate to her film putting me on the spot to donate 500 dollars to the fucking crappy movie?! It was well shot but UGH LADY wheres the funny? I paid FIVE HUNDRED GOD DAMN DOLLARS FOR THAT MOVIE?!?! FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS….. FUCK.... thats TWO tickets to see CHER?!?!?!? 7.Sharon Needles: When Sharon first came out I BOUGHT IT, literally, I bought the t shirt which was secrelty packed as a GLITTER BOMB.. FUCKING CUNT…She really gave us hope and spoke to so many and was a creative and funny star. Shes a great talent who has done some amazing looks. Unfortunately shes become super sour and nasty and nobody wants to work with her and former fans are made uncomfortable to be around her. Sharon Needles is THE BEST DRAG QUEEN nobody wants to be around. 6. Violet Chachki: Im pretty sure Violet was trained by a SITH LORD or something. Shes CURIOUSLY YOUNG to be so professional and SO on point and just soooo good. God I hated the idiot RPDR fan base who talked shit about her simply because they couldnt relate to her because she was confident in her abilities. A wolf does NOT consult the sheep as to what to have for dinner!?! Im sorry but thats NOT something to make apologies for and its CERTAINLY not something you need to change. Nobody should have to dumb themselves down for the masses and Violet has not. She consistently DOMINATES THEM with her BITCH GODDESS self and Im SOOOO THANKFUL FOR THAT. This icy goddess holds the title for the number one AND number two AND number three best gowns on RPDR history. Dont go against Violet you WILL loose. 5. Alaska: Alaska broke all the rules by being HER OWN CREATURE. You cant pin down Alaska as one specific thing. Shes is an entity unto her own and that is so important to recognize. Shes also maybe the smartest queen of all of them. Her drag is a critique of drag itself which makes her a more evolved creature compared to “lesser” queens. Like all these top five shes really carved out PERSONALITY in her drag persona. Shes maybe made me laugh more than any other queen.The only “negative” I can think of is I dont like her interest in nails, seems like something India Ferra would be into. Its sorta weird that she named herself Alaska when the biggest gay icon in Spain and many other Spanish speaking nations is Alaska but shes from Pittsburg, not Madrid. 4. Alyssa Edwards: Oh fuck is Alyssa Edwards important! The DON KNOTSS of Drag Alyssa is sorta just like Texas from which she hails… BIG AND WEIRD THINKING AND despite being the essence of AMERICA its also ITS OWN ENTITY and by its own design is flawless and also VERY FLAWED! Remember when ALyssa first started and she was mean and people did not like her?! This is important to recognize because Alyssa HOOKED US with a very special chemistry of herself as a real person and this SWIRLY KOOKOO TOWN that her psyche exists in where shes the MAYOR, THE RICHEST LADY, THE NOSEY NEIGHBOR, AND THE BEAUTY QUEEN! Shes all those things and we get to see them all exist in every gesture. The gif of her negotiating a sip on an extra long straw was just as responsible for us falling in love with her as was her UNSELFAWARNESS (is that a word?) upon the HARD REVEAL of her BACKROLLS. Those lips and eyes are insanely MAGNETIC but all of it would be only half as magnetic if we didnt know what a LOOSEY GOOSEY she is?! You KNOW that Alyssa PERFORMS FOR NOBODY when shes by herself…. OFTEN. Alyssa I think is the only queen Ive ever hired and she got out of a cab by herself in FULL DRAG wearing like a TEDDY and a SHEER DRESSING GOWN and walked down the street in broad daylight asking my assistant if the MEXICAN RESTAURANT ON THE CORNER was where she was PERFORMING?!?! Alyssas personal styling is: “Dress, not particularly expensive shoe, AND PIECE OF THING ON HER HEAD- but NOT a complete thing on her head just a PART of something on her head! Its the VAGUE ALLUSION that this is part of MAYBE SOMETHING GREATER, or maybe shes been to SPAIN, or maybe she shoplifts at CLAIRES BOUTIQUE?! Alyssa is an America treasure! 3. Raven: Raven is JEALOUS BEAUTY. RAVEN IS EVERY FIERCE VILLAINESS THAT EVER EXISTED. Raven VERY EASILY could be my number one BUT IM LEARNING TO LOVE MYSELF and Im not going to SIT HERE and WAIT to be loved by someone I adore as they DENY MY EXISTENCE simply because THEY THEMSELVES are incapable of being loved. I already DID THAT SHOW its called ME AND MY DAD and thanks but over a lifetime as a child I sat there on the couch waiting for him to show up, which he often DID NOT, as I hoped that MAGICALLY ONE DAY this person you adore is suddenly going to take interest in you. GUESS WHAT… IT AINT GONNA HAPPEN!!! I might love Raven but RAVEN CANT LOVE BACK and instead of being MAD (like I was for a lifetime with my own dad) Im going to recognize that I dont hate this person at all, in fact this VILLAIN is a HERO to me and though I wish theyd be capable of liking me back theyre NOT and THATS OK. Im not the bad guy for that, and neither is Raven, and neither is my dad. Its something they cant do and MAYBE someday they will and if so THATS GREAT but until then Im gonna love myself and put interest in people who reciprocate my feelings.This all may sound like I had some kind of ACTUAL relationsship with Raven WHICH I HAVE NOT but Ravens entire DRAG CONCEPT HER VERY DRAG BEING is that story line to me. The even more twisted part is we love Raven BECAUSE shes cruel?!?! I think shes TREMENDOUS! Raven is THE EVIL QUEEN from Snow White, shes Alexis from Dynasty, shes Katra from She-ra. Raven IS jealous beauty. Raven is a cruel and powerful goddess and I LIVE for her. We have tried SO MANY times to hire her and it falls on dead ears. Shes cannot be bothered. She needs to GET BOTHERED because the reason why shes not an All Star is because she cant be. I mean I think its really because shes had a couple DUIs and theres no way a liquor company was gonna give 100k to a person who has 2 DUIS but you know what I mean.... Raven is also THE BEST DRAG MAKEUP ARTIST. All these future queens stand on Ravens trompe l’oeil bone structure. Ravens one word comments on fashion photo Ruview make me HOWL. Ravens astute observations are as sharp as her nose contour. Raven has the teeniest room for evolution spiritually I think JUST A TEENY BIT, like DONT CHANGE, but MAYBE get a LITTLE kind and Raven will be my number one and OH GOD I want her to be number one SO BAD. 2. Raja. Ok, now Im back to sitting on my tiny clear desk chair like a Gargoyle because its THE TWO MOST IMPORTANT QUEENS?!!?!? VERY SIMPLY without Raja Rupauls Drag Race would be MEXICAN TELEVISION! The show would be an FAR less elevated and be a GOOPEY SUNDAE of WIGS AND BOOBS AND WELL WORN DRESSES THAT SMELL LIKE B.O and ANGEL! Raja brings in references that lift the entire competition UP. Alyssa is Cosmopolitan but Raja is ITALIAN VOGUE AND NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC. Shes still the best runway walker of all the queens which is like MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANYTHING. In her single season she gave us gold robot, amazon tribes person, Marie Antoinette, and when she walked in first episode it was the most obvious time someone was CLEARLY the winner from MINUTE ONE. Raja is the PUBLIC TELEVISION OF DRAG RACE! A FUNDAMENTAL NECESSITY to the CLASS LEVEL of Rupauls Drag Race and without her the floor would drop out. LETS IMAGINE AN AFRICAN WATERING HOLE with baboons squeeling, zebras making their weirdo sounds that you would never expect to come from a horse, hippos eating, hyenas laughing and all of a sudden the GIRAFFE enters the scene and everyone SHUTS UP AND STARES… Well RAJA IS THAT GIRAFFE... and yes Shangela and Yarra Sofia are the babbons. We need LESS BABOONS and MORE GIRAFFES. If I HAD to make a negative critque Id say Id just like to see LESS POT and WINE references on her facebook page because when I read that I think she might be mildly depressed and I dont want that from this creative talent whom I adore! 1. Detox. DETOX IS CHARISMA. Detox IS the MUGLER woman. Thierry Mugler is what saved me in college. Mugler is clearly what has saved Detox as well. The first time I saw Thierry Muglers work was at a newsstand in VALENCIA CALIFORNIA at CalArts and his robot suit was on the cover of STERN magazine and I grabbed it, and some suburban TWAT MOM shot me side eye because the robot suit shows nipple and of course she disapproved that because she was JUDGEY UNTRAVELED TRASH. I looked inside at his work and I thought I WANT TO BE WHERE THESE PEOPLE EXIST?!?!? I actually brought the magazine to my mentor and said "I NEED TO BE HERE." Well Detox takes me to that place! I can relate to Detox. Were really similar in many ways, both of us have tried to manefest that Mugler construct as best as possible and through ANY means necessary. If Raven is the Evil Queen from Disneys Snow White, Detox is Maleficent! Both are SO MAJOR how do you pick?! Well I will tell you how! Remember how in my Raven rant I was saying I was going to learn to love myself well putting Detox first is learning to love myself! Why?! Because Detox is the EVIL QUEEN who MAKES GOOD. When Alvaro offered to pay both Detox and Raven to send me a little happy 40th birthday message Raven didnt respond, and DETOX DID and REFUSED TO TAKE MONEY. You know when Skeletor feels the spirit of Christmas in the Heman Christmas special?? Well SKELETOR DETOX. Shes the VILLAIN we all love with A HEART thats open to be loved. Detox is the DAD WHO SHOWS UP. Detox takes great measures to embody the values that mean so much to me. Its actually HARD to be this GOOD. She is SOFT AS NAILS but you still wanna FUCK HER?! She had TREMENDOUS sex appeal without being soft, amazing style without being trend driven, and shes a bitch goddess without being bitter. Detox is number one, Detox is the good mommy.

LIST: 10 of My Favorite Movie Songs

I'm an idiot. On Oscar Night, I decided to wrap up a draft I was writing for a list going up soon. The theme was dark videos, again, it will be going up soon. Also, I worked a terrible work day for about 6-8 hours, so that was a huuuuuge damper on my mood that kept me from doing anything until about 4 or 5. So I was too dumb to come up with a list of movie songs on Oscar Night. Yeah. I'm that kind of idiot.

But here I am, doing it. Right now.

For this list, I have a few criteria. These songs were released solely for these films. That means that they were not picked from an artist's pre-existing album, or a cover of another song recorded for a movie, or a musical selection from a Broadway adaptation. These songs may have appeared on an artist's album after release (such as a greatest hits release), but not before. So, sorry to "Lady Marmalade," "Cell Block Tango," and "Hooked on a Feeling." Oh, that goes for you, too, "Elephant Love Medley" from Moulin Rouge. That's a mashup. You're not slick.

10. "Kiss from a Rose" - Seal (Batman Forever, 1994) Call it hokey. Call it what you want. But I better not catch you talking shit about Seal. In what is possibly his signature song, Seal's incomparable voice soars over a haunting melody and epic orchestration. Is it the best song to ever come out of a DC Comics film? Oh, hell yes it is.

9. "The World is Not Enough" - Garbage (The World is Not Enough, 1999) When you ask a group like Garbage to write a Bond theme, you probably don't expect them to deliver Shirley Bassey or Paul McCartney. Spoiler alert: they don't, but damn, do they deliver. Shirley Manson puts on the dangerous seduction worthy of a Bond girl over a smoldering orchestra, arranged by Don Black and David Arnold. It just feels so sexy, and so sinister. So of course I'm into it. The few times I actually play Overwatch with Widowmaker, I like to imagine her slinking around to this song before she snipes Genji in his tracks. Fuck Genji.

8. "Over the Rainbow" - Judy Garland (The Wizard of Oz, 1939) I felt wrong not including this song, partly because when I was a very little girl, my grandmother--a jazz singer back in the day--would sing it to me and my sister. Listening to it now as an adult effortlessly brings a tear to my eye, thanks to Judy Garland's mournful, yet optimistic vocals. That's the kind of thing that makes you want to root for a character like Dorothy. Not just that, but that's the kind of thing that makes characters and movies iconic. Yeah, there's yellow brick roads and little dogs and munchkins, but, in the way "Let It Go" defined Frozen's Queen Elsa, Dorothy Gale is synonymous with "Over the Rainbow." And that's not a bad thing to be associated with.

7. "I Don't Want To Miss a Thing" - Aerosmith (Armageddon, 1998) I was coerced to go on the Rock 'n Roller Coaster at Disney's Hollywood Studios once. I hated it. I hate coasters. It didn't necessarily affect my opinion of Aerosmith, but I don't remember hearing this classic Aerosmith track on the ride. Probably because I was busy screaming to get me off this crazy thing and into the Voyage of the Little Mermaid show. Sounds about right. But in a park that celebrates films--and on a ride themed around Aerosmith--the omission of this song feels wrong. Is Armageddon an iconic film? Nah, not really. Is this song timeless? Yeah. In fact it's one of Aerosmith's most well-known tracks. For good reason--it's Steven Tyler at his vocal best. And who'da thunk that they'd go so well with an orchestra? Tyler's emotion is remarkably raw. Not bad for a song so obviously made to sell a movie. I guess they just did it differently in the 90s.

6. "Young and Beautiful" - Lana Del Rey (The Great Gatsby, 2013) I never saw this movie, because I hated the book. It was one of those books where you were forced to read it in high school English. Hence, I hated it. Lana Del Rey was also an acquired taste for me. However, "Young and Beautiful" is Lana at her finest. Her simmering alto flies above a lush orchestra as she croons, lamenting over a love she's not sure will last. In true Lana Del Rey style, the girl just can't do happiness. But hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. She doesn't fix it--she enhances it, to dazzling effect

5. "Audition (The Fools Who Dream)" - Emma Stone (La La Land, 2016) Sometimes things don't work. Dreams fall short. So you have to regroup and figure out a new plan. That's exactly what Emma Stone's aspiring actress Mia did in La La Land, when she becomes discouraged and downtrodden after a series of flops. However, a glimmer of hope arrives in an audition, where, as she recounts the story of her grandmother swimming through the freezing Seine. What results is a truly impassioned, from-the-heart performance from Emma, as she honors "the fools who dream, crazy as they may seem." Where would we be without "the rebels, the ripples from pebbles, the painters, the poets, and plays?" Well, this film wouldn't exist, for one. As a supporter of the arts and a daughter of a music teacher, this lyric speaks to me. In general, I resonated with the character of Mia, often discouraged, waiting on that one person to take a chance on me and let me show what I can do. If La La Land did anything for me, it told me that if you never try, you never know. (Also, "City of Stars" be damned.)

4. "Beauty and the Beast" - Angela Lansbury/Peabo Bryson and Celine Dion (Beauty and the Beast, 1992) You know that song that no matter where or when you hear it, you immediately begin tearing up? This is one of those songs for me. I remember when I saw Moana last year and they showed the trailer for the upcoming (unnecessary) live-action remake of Beauty and the Beast, being unimpressed, until that "tale as old as time..." melody kicked in. Beauty is regarded as one of Disney's greatest animated features, with a timeless soundtrack to show for it. Its title song is appropriately timeless, and is the jewel in the crown of the Disney Renaissance. Suddenly I don't know an Ariana Grande or a John Legend.

3. "There You'll Be" - Faith Hill (Pearl Harbor, 2002) I've always dismissed Faith Hill has being "lifetimecore," that is, music made specifically for suburban white moms who spend their time on Pinterest and at Scentsy parties. Working in retail, especially, has made me resent her, being subject to her music as often as I am. That said, "There You'll Be" is so incredibly poignant and emotional, and her strong voice is perfectly suited for it. This one is another instant tearjerker. You got me this time, Faith. Just once.

2. "If You Want Me" - Marketa Irglova (Once, 2007) While not the most memorable song from this unforgettable indie gem, "If You Want Me" is remarkable in its vulnerability. In the film, Marketa's unnamed character walks down a lonely Irish street, having just bought batteries for her Walkman. She's really just kind of rehearsing the song to herself, but there is this heartbreaking vulnerability in her softspoken delivery. There's something behind that sad, sad voice, and you know it. It should've got an Oscar nod, but you know what, "Falling Slowly" is still pretty damn good.

1. "Part of Your World" - Jodi Benson (The Little Mermaid, 1989) Let's just be honest with ourselves here. My blog title is "Mermaid in Stereo." Perhaps my attraction to mermaids can be attributed to the story of Ariel, a struggle that is told in her signature song, "Part of Your World." It's not necessarily the story of a mermaid wanting to live on the land--okay, it is. But it's more than that. It's the story of someone fed up with being held down in her home life by overbearing parents, with a burning desire to get out of her bubble and see an unfamiliar world. Fun fact: Ariel did not wish to become human for Eric! No, in fact it's this song--which she sings before she ever sees Eric--that proves it. And you have to believe her. It's no wonder only Jodi Benson has voiced the character since her introduction--no one else can do it justice.

And now...my honorable mentions.

"Go the Distance" - Roger Bart (Hercules, 1997)

"You Haven't Seen the Last of Me" - Cher (Burlesque, 2010)

"Her Portrait in Black" - Atreyu (Underworld: Evolution, 2006)

"A View to a Kill" - Duran Duran (A View to a Kill, 1984)

"Chim Chim Cher-ee" - Dick Van Dyke (Mary Poppins, 1964)

"Heathens" - Twenty One Pilots (Suicide Squad, 2016)