#‘(name) has been feeling jealous lately? add a new trait

[hteragram-x]

Firefighter AU [again]

New story for the AU. This time about Virgil wondering who the hell is Logan. Also, apparently, Virgil’s main personality trait in this universe is thinking that Remus is very pretty and then being like: “hey! who said that?!”.

If it’s the first time you see this AU I think you can still understand what’s going on without reading older posts, but in case you’re interested: [HERE] is the introduction, [HERE] are some general HCs, over [THERE] you can find a story where Remus and Virgil met for the first time, and [HERE] is previous story :>

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

Word count: 2240

Relationships: technically Dukexiety, but they’re not there yet; Creativitwins

TW: mentions of fire (what a surprise), small injury, mentions of blood, some animal bones, swearing (because I’m mentally 12 and think that swearwords are fucking hilarious)

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

-

Because Logan Said So

             Over the last four months Virgil has learnt a lot about his new co-workers. Not every information he managed to gather was particularly interesting or even worth remembering, but having that knowledge helped with making the new workplace more familiar. And familiarity brought comfort.

           He learnt, for example, that their janitor – Jeremy – was the most grumpy and easily annoyed person in the entire firehouse despite being the youngest janitor Virgil has ever met. It was relatively easy to avoid him most of the time, but if he wanted everyone to know about his problems with something you would be informed that he’s unhappy regardless of your own involvement, or lack thereof, in the situation.

           Virgil also learnt that Anna was pretty helpful when it came to failing equipment and technology. They weren’t employed to do the repairs, but it didn’t stop them from trying to fix everything anyway. The guy with very short hair, whose name Virgil could never remember, was leaving his helmet in unexpected places and had three kids that he talked about all the time. Alex was often late, but always stayed at work longer than anyone. And that one girl everyone called Apple for some unknown reason was currently building a house and you couldn’t escape hearing about it, no matter how much you didn’t want to at the moment.

           Talking to Virgil about issues he wasn’t that interested in seemed to be the common thing among most of his co-workers.

           Pretty standard stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary.

           What was also not out of ordinary was the bird skull lying on his desk this Tuesday.

           “Remus! Is this a gift or are you just leaving your stuff all over the office again!?”, he half-yelled knowing that the younger twin had to be somewhere in the building at this hour. Not that he memorized his schedule or something. He just knew…

           Suddenly a head with a mass of unkempt hair and spider webs on top of it popped from under his desk. It was not the first time Remus was staying there, but Virgil still winced seeing the man crawling from the tiny space. It cannot be comfortable, he though for probably fifteenth time.

           “There’s no way it’s comfortable in there,” he pointed out, also for fifteenth time.

           “It isn’t”, Remus said, like he always did and smiled, stretching his long arms above his head. Even without his shoes – he always walked around the office in just his socks, because of course he did – he was still much taller than Virgil which somehow managed to fluster him more every time he noticed the difference.

           Virgil decided to ignore the futile argument instead pointing at the skull and a couple of sticks he’s just noticed next to his computer.

           “Can you keep your mess out of my desk?”

           “You didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me today”, Remus pouted.

           “I’ll say ‘hi’ when you take your stuff from my space,” he sighed.

           Remus groaned, his arms hanging loosely at his sides in resignation.

           “God… you sound like Logan.”

           A-ha! There he is. This mysterious “Logan”, whoever he was.

           Over the last four months Virgil has learnt a lot about his new co-workers. But no other person was as interesting and worth knowing as Remus himself. The number of weird quirks Virgil has memorized about the guy was unmatched by any other person working at the firehouse which was in no way a surprising score given the circumstances in which they’ve met.

           He was weird in so many ways that it almost seemed normal again. And according to Roman he used to be even more chaotic and unpredictable when the twins were younger. At first Virgil was pretty nervous around the guy – with all of his jokes about violence or with his creepy staring – but now this… interesting behaviour became just a normal and entirely expected part of his days.

           If Remus run into the room and didn’t stop until he hit the wall… fine. Virgil just checked if the guy was okay and went back to work. If he bit the bar of soap… also fine. You just had to make sure he didn’t swallow it all and forget about it for the rest of your day. When he left some of his most disturbing sketches on the fridge, you just commented on his skills as an artist or flipped them, so the picture was facing the door of the fringe, if the drawing was particularly disgusting.

           A standard day with Remus.

           Apparently talking about some “Logan” that no one ever met was also a standard part of his character. And Virgil was very annoyed at himself knowing how jealous he sometimes felt because of this mysterious guy. The jealousy, however, seemed to weaken a bit when he realized that Roman was also bringing the name up almost every day. It started to sound like an inside joke that Virgil was too nervous to ask about.

           “Okay! Your desk’s just as clean as my legs yesterday when I jumped into the river to find a shiny stone, but it was a broken bottle, so I got glass stuck in my hand!” Remus smiled even wider, showing a little too many teeth and lifting his palm with three fingers covered in bandages.

           Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose.

           “Why do you have zero self-control?”, he asked, very much aware that the question was pointless.

           No one knew. And if someone did know, it definitely wasn’t Remus.

           “Sounds like a question Logan would ask”, said Roman who has just appeared out of nowhere behind Virgil. The shorter man shivered a little, not expecting anyone except for Alex who was finishing his shift to be in the room with them.

           “It does!”, Remus agreed poking the bandages with a finger. Knowing him, Virgil assumed he wanted to check if it’ll make the wound open and colour the fabric with blood. “And like I said, I just cleaned up your desk.” The firefighter moved much closer to Virgil towering over him with some different kind of smile. He really was smiling a lot for a person, who wanted to appear at least a little scary most of the time. “Where’s my ‘hi’?”

           The shorter man glanced up at him, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed with the whole situation and all of his conflicting feelings. It definitely wasn’t the first time he found himself in a position like that. He should have got used to Remus being annoying and invading his personal space long ago. Or maybe he did get used to that and he was just confused by the fact that he really… didn’t mind?

           “Hi,” he said finally, the corners of his lips lifting slightly.

           “Hello,” Remus answered with something twinkling in his green eyes.

           There was a minute of silence. None of them seemed to want to move.

           “You’re both gross,” said Roman decisively and ruined the moment by rolling his eyes and walking right between them to the adjacent kitchen.

           Virgil felt blush creeping up his neck. He completely forgot about the second twin being in the room with them. Wouldn’t be the first time he got distracted like that.

           And he couldn’t even get mad at Roman… that was a little bit gross. …In a good way.

           “You can keep the bird skull if you want to. I planned to paint it and add to my new sculpture, but I have plenty more to use instead.”

           Virgil was more than grateful for the change of the topic.

           “No, thanks. But show me the sculpture once it’s done.”

           That was apparently a right thing to say, because Remus looked very satisfied with himself which was always nice. Virgil really liked to see him so cheerful, even when it meant complimenting some naturalistic painting or listening to his unsettling ideas. He was even more handsome when he seemed genuinely happy… wait, what?

           Virgil coughed nervously and quickly moved to the desk, putting his bag down and turning the computer on. When he was adjusting the headset and checking his microphone he looked back at Remus and gave him a little shy wave.

           “Don’t set yourself on fire today,” he said using their usual equivalent of ‘good bye’.

           “No promises!”, was a standard reply.

 ***

             Roman grabbed a bag of gummy worms from Remus’ hand preventing him from showing them all into his mouth at once.

           “Stop eating so much sweets. You’ll already too energetic today.”

           Remus shrugged and took a long sip of some energy drink he’d been hiding behind his back.

           “Don’t tell me what to do.”

           “It cannot be healthy for you!” Roman tried to grab the can as well, but Remus was sitting on the kitchen counter, so he easily lifted it out of his brother’s reach.

           “Why?!” he asked in a whiny tone.

           “Because Logan said so!”

           “No, he didn’t.”

           “But he would if he was standing here right now.”

           “…fine!”

           Remus jumped off the counter sending his twin annoyed look, but he put the drink away, only now noticing his slightly shaky hands. He hasn’t said anything to not give Roman the satisfaction and moved to the changing room to dress for their upcoming training.

           Virgil followed him with his eyes, not even trying to hide the confusion. Remus almost never did anything, because it was healthy or responsible. What was happening?

           Who the hell is Logan?

---

           “Roman! …Roman! ROMAN!!!”, Remus looked up seeing his brother sitting atop the fire engine with a book. It was his favourite place to escape the noise, people… and work. “Get down here, you lazy motherfucker! We’re moving the old hoses to the new room.”

           “Have fun then!”

           “They’re heavy! Come back here and help me!”

           “I’m busy…” Roman looked at Remus from behind the book, hoping he’d just get bored and walk away. “And you can lift them yourself, come on.”

           “No, I can’t! They’re packed in those bigger boxes. If I do this myself I’ll drop them on my feet or hurt my back and Logan said it’s dangerous!” Remus smirked, already knowing he won the argument. “And do you really want to leave me unsupervised?”

           “Okay, okay. I’ll help… It’s not your fault you’re a weak baby!”

           The rest of the conversation was too quiet for Virgil to hear through the open window from the garages below. The twins probably moved to the other room to finish the task. And Roman, who truly didn’t like this kind of repetitive labour, helped without much complaining… Strange.

           Who the fuck was Logan?

---

           “Roman, you forgot the scarf. It’s freezing. Logan said you’ll catch a cold!”

           “Logan would already give you a lecture for sleeping on a chair like that… At least move to the floor… I’ll bring you some blankets… Yes, I know it’s 4am. You think I’m happy about it?”

           “If Logan saw the mess you’ve made he be so disappointed with you…”

           “Okay, stop staring at cute boys and get back to work! Just imagine if Logan saw you right now. It’s pathetic. Oh… is my little brother blushing?”

           “What do you mean ‘why’? Just stay safe. Because Logan said so!”

           “Because Logan said so!”

 ***

             “Okay… who the hell is Logan?”

           Remus looked at Virgil from the axe he’s been sharpening on the office floor. He was clearly confused, not expecting anyone to talk to him after Roman left the room a few seconds ago.

           “What?”

           Virgil gripped the fabric of his trousers nervously.

           “I’ve asked who’s Logan.” There was a moment of silence. “You… you two keep bringing him up and I… I know that no one with that name works here and no one else is ever talking about this guy. If it’s a guy.” He stopped himself before he started rambling. “So… Who is Logan?”

           Remus was looking at him with a very weird set of emotions in his eyes. It was impossible to decipher what he was thinking or feeling at the moment which was pretty unusual for a person who was normally so open with what he thought or felt.

           Finally he went back to cleaning the axe lying on his knees.

           “Wouldn’t you like to know operator boy…” he said with a smirk.

           Virgil blinked, even more perplexed.

           “Y-yes! That’s why… Of course I want to know! That’s why I asked in the first place!”

           This time Remus openly laughed as if Virgil just told him a joke. It was one of his loudest and wildest laughs that most people learnt to ignore after working with Remus for a while, but it was still pretty creepy for anyone unfamiliar with the firefighter’s personality. Virgil would find it pretty pleasant to listen to if it wasn’t meant to mock him at the moment.

           “I don’t know what’s so funny…” he said defensively. He already regretted ever asking the question. Maybe it was a wrong moment? Maybe he should have asked Roman instead?

           “Of course you don’t! Oh, the irony…”

           He was very close to asking “what’s the irony”, but decided against it. Apparently he wasn’t getting any actual answers right now. Okay. He could wait and be patient when he wanted to. He’s already been waiting for months before the curiosity finally pushed him to say anything. There were other ways to get that information. It might be a difficult task, but he’ll learn the truth… eventually.

-

--- ----- --- ----- --- ----- --- ----- ---

General writing taglist: @imma-potatoo

Taglist for this AU: @isabelle-stars @wintersandsunshine

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or removed from it :>

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #remus sanders #ts remus #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #firefighter!remus #firefighter!roman #creativitwins #dukexiety #ts dukexiety #virgil x remus #remus x virgil #ts writing #my writing #ts fanfiction #my fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #firefighter au #hteragramxwriting #hteragramx #tw blood mention #tw fire mention #tw swearing

[cetaceans-pls]

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Attempted Kidnapping, Date Night at an Aquarium, Gone Terrifically Wrong, Dom/sub Undertones Series: Part 4 of Third Thursdays

A plainclothes mission at the Gotham Aquarium quickly goes off the rails when Jason and Bruce find themselves on the wrong end of a kidnapping attempt. A billion-dollar target out of the Batsuit, Bruce gets taken.

Jason comes fetch.

Happy late Lunar New Year + Valentine’s! Why do I keep forgetting to post things to my tumblr! Life’s full of mysteries!

Anyways, please enjoy the weird result of me thinking too much about aquariums and helmets that look like jackals, and have a good week  🙏

Fic also available below the cut:

Jason studiously doesn’t mess with his cuffs, tug on his necktie, or pull off his sunglasses. He hates being forced to manifest in a suit and tie; it’s a misery every single time he has to. However, knee-deep in the bowels of a pandemic that just won’t freakin’ quit, needs must. Sometimes a man’s got to cosplay as a high-tier bodyguard to fit in a date night on a Thursday, so sometimes a man will.

He fiddles with his earpiece, expression serious even though he’s really just trying to get the volume up on his audiobook. It adds to the aura of stern, scary bodyguard man, and it means that the wobbly-lipped, handsy director cuts short his long, long thank you speech to Bruce and waves them inside for their all-access tour of the Gotham Aquarium after dark. It’s a performance he and Bruce have repeated for most of a year now, and it’s the main avenue for Jason to work through his massive collection of audiobooks. Once a month or so Billionaire Fuckboy Bruce Wayne will get it into his head to book a library or a park or a zoo or a planetarium all to himself for fuck knows what, and he’ll be good and won’t break any social distancing rules or any furniture because it’s just him and his bodyguard staying through the night. Come morning the establishment will find themselves the recipients of a donation generous enough to keep their heads above water, while Brucie floats away on a cloud of expensive scotch to find his next flex.

Bruce has more money to his name than anybody ever, ever should, and these days he uses it to buy literal breathing space for much of Gotham’s public facilities struggling to stay afloat.

This is their first visit to the aquarium, because the social media intern-turned-manager here had managed to keep finances fiercely healthy by selling videos of aquarium creatures with personalised messages. Dick himself had commissioned a 30-second video of an aquarium worker whispering ‘wiggle wiggle wiggle’ into a microphone while the camera zoomed in and out from the moon jelly exhibition, and the number of Gothamites keeping their spirits up exclusively thanks to a video of a gently floating manatee quietly murmuring “You’re doing your best” is alarming.

That’s why it’s taken them a while to work their way here, but Jason has to admit he’s looking forward to a relaxing night walking around in mood lighting with B, heckling the occasional fish. Their last date night keeping Gotham’s ‘non-essential’ attractions open had been at the rec centre in the Narrows that’s been shut for months. Romance was thin on the ground there, because mid-date the Bat had taken over Bruce and decided that they owed it to the people of the city to make a few simple adjustments to improve water quality in the swimming pools.

Elbow-deep in an ancient pump and filtration system, Jason’s hand had gotten tangled in something while pulling out the filters. It had turned out to be a tangled, sopping wet mass of human hair the size of a cat, and for the first time in a while, he had wished he was dead and actually kind of meant it.

Tonight, though, promises to be smoother sailing. The aquarium’s not in dire disrepair, the staff have been instructed to keep out of their way and respect their privacy, and he has burritos and two bottles of mini-Merlot tucked in holsters that would hold guns on a lesser man. It’s perfect prep for a relaxing supper in front of the open water tank.

The director leads them in through the main entrance, still talking Bruce’s ear off while he gestures nervously around them and swipes at his thinning white hair. Jason follows after them, hand to his ear as he says a bunch of menacing gibberish into empty air. He and Bruce are incredibly dull on nights out like this, and have by Alfred’s decree been cut-off from work comms to decrease the chance of anyone on duty being rude jealous assholes. No one’s listening right now, but growling ‘Code Esper’ into his jacket has the director sweating even harder, which is the intended outcome. With a messily-babbled “Goodnight and goodbye Mister Wayne!” and an unwelcome pat on the small of Bruce’s back, the man disappears the way they came, heavy glass doors swinging shut.

Finally, the night’s starting to look better.

First thing Jason does is rip off his stupid sunglasses. It’s certainly an Expected Look for a bodyguard, but it’s 11 PM on a weekday night and on top of it being a hideous accessory, it sets his teeth on edge to have his vision obscured even while off-duty.

He also whips his tie off, because there’s a time and a place for choking and it’s not here, not yet. Jason runs his hand through his hair to break through the gel and scowls to see the black residue on his fingers. Makeup on his face, makeup in his hair, makeup pasted on to hide him in plain sight when other people get to go to Wendy’s barefaced and hand-in-hand as they pleased, urgh.

The world’s extra rough on the legally dead, even if he’s immediately mollified by Bruce sidling up to him, close enough that their hips bump and their fingers tangle.

Christ, rich man shampoo smells a whole lot different to the stuff you can get by the half-gallon in your local bodega. Jason is tempted to bite Bruce, find the closest cleaning cupboard and get up to some defilement, but it's a big aquarium and it’s a long night, so there's no rush.

The CCTV cameras aren't live, no red lights blinking, and it's supremely helpful how much privacy gets afforded to a billionaire and his potential debauchery in return for a big cheque. Jason slings an arm around Bruce's waist, because these are hard rights hard earned, and just grins at Bruce's long-suffering sigh. "Shut the hell up, this is crazy romantic. What do you want to see first?"

The answer is, inexplicably, the tropical freshwater exhibit, where they spend a solid half hour with an arapaima swimming up-down up-down a false river designed to look like the Amazon, their tiny bottles of wine in hand. Jason loses his mind first, pacing along the tank to follow the path of a fish longer than he or Bruce are tall, but within a minute Bruce is in lockstep with him as they stalk an innocent fish while they talk about not very much at all.

Bruce looks at the murkiness of the water and the cinematic dead leaves floating all over, expression gravely concerned. “They could do with a bigger aquarium.”

Jason groans, thumb absently picking at the label on his bottle. “Stop communing with the fish. It’s only barely cute when Damian gets really intense about animals, and the charm’s completely gone once you crack 6 feet.”

In his head, though, he can’t help but feel that yeah, more space for the arapaima would be nice, but hey.

Jason’s singularly terrible with small, tight spaces, so.

“C’mon,” he says, nudging Bruce so hard it’s mostly a shove. “Time to find out what sharks look like after-hours.”

“What’s normal operating hours for a shark?” Bruce asks just to be a pain, easily going where lead.

“Keep at it and I’ll shove you in the tank so you can find out.”

-

There’s a loose ceiling tile near the information counter in the main hall, right by the entrance leading to the enormous, floor-to-ceiling open water exhibit. There's a loose ceiling tile there because Jason had cased this joint a week ago, the way he checks out every place Bruce decides to take them to on nights like this, and that’s where he had decided to hide his kit. While Bruce walks from end to end of the tank, committing to pointless memory the names and traits of a hundred fish, Jason climbs up and into the ceiling to grab their party pack.

Tepid beer, pretzels, spicy chicken-flavoured chips, wet wipes. A heavy blanket, a bottle of hand sanitiser, Alfred’s cold-brew tea that could grow chest hairs on a rock. He’s even got a bottle of antacids to cover burrito-related maladies shoved into a first-aid kit so complete it could maybe, just maybe, regrow a limb. He dusts the heavy blanket off before he spreads it across the floor, where they have the best view of the most unbearably beautiful manta ray that could possibly exist.

Jason maybe preens a little when Bruce comes back from the edge and greets the spread with a bit of a smile. “Hurry it up already, dinner’s gonna get cold.”

The burritos get pulled out of their holsters as Bruce settles on the ground in the exacting, ginger manner of a man of a certain age whose knees have unfortunately passed their prime. They sit and eat while inoffensive jazz plays quietly over the speakers and fish go up and down and all around.

Ah, beats the ball of human hair by a country mile.

“This is nice,” Bruce says quietly, shrugging out of his coat and loosening his tie. There’s a sharp, bright gloss to him when he’s in Bruce-Wayne-Public-Performance mode, but Jason likes dishevelled, run-down Bruce who’s a little absent-minded and a lot human the best.

He likes this Bruce he’s earned.

“One of our better dates.” Jason holds up his bottle of beer expectantly, and feels profoundly smug when Bruce raises his to knock in a gentle toast. “Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I came to the aquarium. Must have been before.”

“Same,” Bruce says, and Jason wonders for a brief, harrowing moment if this holds true for the zoo and the planetarium and the rec centre and the public library and the-

He doesn’t get the time to linger on the thought and ponder, check to see if this is Bruce on a mission to form new memories in places that had held some from before a death in the family, because they’re interrupted by the sudden scream of a fire alarm.

They both tense where they’re sat, at the ready to fly into a fight in a suit and tie, but wherever the emergency might be it isn’t in here with them. Jason looks around, tries to catch smoke on the air, but it’s all stillness and the scent of disinfectant spray. Weird, that there’s no quiet stampede of night-time crew rushing to rescue their watery wards, no security guard sent on a quick mission by the director to save their cash cow.

Jason’s got a bad feeling about this. He gets to his feet and hauls the bag containing the first aid kit and other supplies up on his shoulder. “What the hell is going on?”

Bruce is fiddling with his phone, working through the security system of the aquarium. “All the cameras are down, so we have no visuals. The fire alarm in the deep sea exhibit was tripped manually, not by the smoke detector.” He frowns. “Carbon monoxide monitors didn’t register anything, and the sprinklers haven’t been triggered either. Could just be a fluke.”

Bruce doesn’t sound convinced, and neither is Jason. Assuming harmlessness is a great way to incur harm, and that’s something you learn damn early after starting up a vigilante lifestyle. Jason can only assume foul play of some sort, likely relating to Bruce, but there’s no way that an aquarium as big as this wouldn’t have night staff; civilians might be in danger.

Fuck, give him gross filters jammed with 27 years worth of dead skin cells over this. “I’ll go and check on the deep sea room.” If there’s no trouble, Jason’s mighty tempted to create some. “You should head back to the entrance, meet up with the sweaty director dude and evacuate. I’ll catch up with you after everything’s handled.”

Bruce looks pretty irritated to be asked to meekly make his way to safety, but pulling a Bat move right now would be incredibly bad optics. They both know his hands are tied, and Bruce sighs and climbs to his feet. “If I don’t get an update from you in fifteen minutes, I’m coming back in,” he tells Jason, crumpling the foil of his burrito and fastidiously stowing it away in the pocket of his slacks. “Comms check.”

They both tap at their discreet earpieces, and both wince at the screech of feedback when the comms activate and pair.

“Fifteen’s plenty.” Jason hikes his kit bag further up his shoulder, and pretends he’s not embarrassed when he tries to activate night vision on a mask he isn’t wearing.

“Jason,” Bruce says, calm, commanding, and quiet.

“What?”

“Be good.” It’s said like an order no one could want to refuse, but before Jason can get over his shivery shock and snap something back, Bruce is waving and disappearing out the hall, pulling on the skin of a simpler man.

Jason rubs at his neck and misses his helmet more keenly. This unbearable transparency of being; almost thirty whole ass years old and it’s astonishing how underneath it all he can still be so hideously eager to please.

“Please let there be a fucking crime,” Jason murmurs to himself, and disappears.

-

There is a crime, but it’s not even a good one.

Jason breaks into the deep sea exhibit through a utility hatch designed to access the cooling pipes for an elaborate sea sponge display. He’s quiet and mostly invisible when he surfaces in the room, and after a minute of letting his eyes adjust to the curated darkness, it’s easy to spot a man in a balaclava with a gun trained on the only door leading to the room.

He also quickly spots the terrified hostages huddled together under a display of what looked like demon jellyfish made of LEDs and blood. It’s easy to see the shape of the crime now; set off an alarm in an isolated area with only one known entrance and exit, and subdue people as they arrive. As long as the alarm kept blaring, staff would keep on coming, and by not triggering any of the smoke or carbon monoxide detectors the fire department remain clueless.

Excellent plan, great for catching anyone who hadn’t, oh, spent a solid 12 hours going through the schematics of the entire building out of an obsessive desire to create a space a Bat could relax in. Jason counts 11 hostages and just the one gunman, and tries not to groan.

There’s not much money to be had by robbing an aquarium, and judging by the degree of weaponry this isn’t some anti-aquarium demonstration organised via Facebook groups, powered by pandemic blues. No one’s liberating a shark or freeing Willy or anything nearly as fun. Ringing the alarm’s just an excellent, excellent way to control the movement of people.

There are only two ways to go; towards the fire or towards safety.

If you’re looking to net yourself a big fish, two small teams with a couple of free-roaming agents would be enough to ensure a catch rate of almost 100%. Jason highly, highly doubts that this whole song-and-dance was designed to abduct a frazzled researcher wearing a fuzzy sweater in radiant orange, or a stern-faced woman in a janitor’s uniform who looks alarmingly close to hulking out and breaking out of her bonds. He highly, highly suspects that there’s a reason outside of billionaire-envy to explain why the director of the aquarium had looked so dodgy and sweaty when he had welcomed Bruce.

Jason’s proven unfortunately right when the radio at the gunman’s hip crackles to life.

“We got Wayne.”

Of course they did. Bruce could hardly go to town and take down a bunch of armed kidnappers, especially if there are civilians near him. Jason tugs out his phone to update the Cave while the gunman grunts his reply and moves to turn off the fire alarm. Alfred asks Jason if he needs reinforcements as the guy tells the huddled terrified masses that he’ll kill them if they move, and Jason texts back a ‘no thank you’ as the goon strides out of the room, locking the door behind him.

The group of tied-up people burst into panicked chatter as soon as the gunman’s gone, and Jason uses the noise as cover for unzipping his bag and getting changed. Unlike Bruce, pulling on his second skin takes a lot longer, but once Jason tugs his red hood up and shucks off the bodyguard suit to stretch in his skin-tight armour, he feels twice the man and thrice as happy.

There’s no gun in the bag, there’s no gun anywhere near him, because it’s a self-imposed rule Jason has recently given himself for date nights. Bruce has been known to use anything from a screwdriver taped to a plank of wood to his literal bare stupid hands to pry things open in a whole-hearted effort to avoid having a crowbar anywhere in the Manor or in his life, and Jason wanted to repay like with like.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck to not have his go-to weapon, though. He sighs as he straps a taser strong enough to knock God unconscious to his thigh, and sighs again when he pulls out a sickle in its leather holster. Alfred’s gotten terribly creative with what he packs for their nights out, but who is Jason to stand in the way of a man’s artistic expression?

Fully kitted-out, hood drawn and mask glowing, Jason shoves the bag back down the hatch and vaults over the top of the aquarium he was crouched behind, landing to the wild, panicked screams of the assembled staff.

His flashy entrance is totally unnecessary, and he knows the lights on the new helmet make him look less like a human and more like an abstract cryptid with a muzzle lined in blood. It’s spectacularly dramatic, but it releases some of the tension that’s been building in his body ever since he and Bruce split up.

He holds his hands up, forgetting the sickle in his fist, and the screaming hits a crescendo any opera would be proud of. It’s a little fucking hysterical, but Jason’s on the clock right now so he can’t savour this situation as much as he would have liked. “Calm the hell down, it’s just Red Hood here to save the day.”

The screaming eases up, though a gentleman in thick glasses and a threadbare labcoat does give a good ol’ screech when he comes closer towards them with the sickle set free. Jason ignores him and crouches down to cut the janitor lady free first. She spares a second to presumably calculate the chances of her beating him in a fight before she comes to a conclusion, shrugs, and turns to immediately start picking at the knots of the person next to her. Within a couple of minutes everyone is free, and everyone is scrambling to grab at things to arm themselves with. Jason eyes the selection of brandished pens and water bottles with mild delight, and nods respectfully at his lady and her bottle of bleach off the janitor’s cart because real recognises real. He does a quick scan to make sure there are no serious injuries or emergencies, and gets to his feet.

“All right, so this is apparently an attempt to kidnap Wayne, and you guys are just collateral. They’ll be clustered towards the main entrance, so get out through the most secret employees-only door you know. Stay together and stay quiet, and it’s gonna be fine. The Bat knows what’s going on, if that makes anyone feel better.” He considers how much he does and doesn’t want to share with the people assembled, before he decides that fuck it, being a shit-stirrer is pretty fun. “Pretty sure your big boss is in on it too, so if there’s an exit that guy won’t be familiar with, use that one.”

There’s a sharp intake of communal breath, before a young woman wearing waders and rubber gloves up to her shoulders raises her hand. “Do you mean Dr. Stevens?”

Jason shrugs. “Maybe?”

“Uhm. Short, all white hair, super skinny. Looks like someone you wouldn’t trust in a lab alone with a stressed-out postdoc of any gender because he gives off the vibe of a creep with varied tastes?”

Jason frowns at what the girl is saying, and the grim looks of much of the rest of the room. “Sounds about right.”

At least three separate people hiss motherfucker under their breaths, and three more say some version of I fucking knew it. The aquarium might not have had any severe financial issues, but oh, they’ve found a mess worse than too much human hair, looks like. Jason’s keener than ever to murder this Stevens dude, but he really, really doesn’t have the time to chair a HR complaint for the aquarium right now.

“Look, whatever goes down tonight I’m gonna give a Red Hood guarantee that the guy won’t be your boss anymore. Hell, Wayne’s going to be so grateful when I rescue him that I could get him to elect a different person to be in charge of this place even if this guy isn’t in cahoots with the kidnappers. So consider it handled, okay?” He straps the sickle back at his waist. “Now get the hell out of here. I’m counting on you.”

He nods at his bleach-wielding lady, and she nods back like the truest sort of comrade-in-arms.

Reassured, Jason kicks the door down and moves the fastest anyone’s ever moved in an aquarium, a red-faced wraith on a hunt.

-

Bruce courteously gasps when a hood is thrown over his head and secured, even though he had guessed the shape of the night’s events the moment he had reached the lobby and seen the half-wobbly half-cocky look to the director’s face from across the way. “What are you doing?” he demands in a shaky voice as he puts up token resistance, enough to look panicked but not enough to tempt someone into knocking him out and hauling him away.

Far too many questions to answer as to why a loafer coasting on generational wealth has more muscle mass than your average highly-trained mercenary, after all.

He counts his steps and tries to carve little signs into the pile of the carpeting with the toe of his loafers as he’s marched off, though he doubts Jason will need this trail of breadcrumbs to find him. “Let me go!” he yells, navigating the blueprint of the aquarium in his mind. Everyone ignores him, and his captors are none-too-gentle as they force him up some metal stairs.

Forty steps from the entrance to the lobby, a right, thirty steps, a left, a quiet beep, and now stairs. My, my, my, seems like they’ll be paying Dr. Stevens’ sea slug lab a visit. It’s a good location for a quick regroup, tucked away and locked behind several layers of security. Bruce imagines they won’t be here long; a good kidnapper doesn’t keep their victim where they found them, after all.

He’s roughly shoved into a chair and tied to it, rendered immobile by cuffs on his hands and rope round his legs, but it’s a cheap office chair and there’s give in his binds. He’s immobile, but only theoretically. Bruce keeps tugging at his bonds and cursing under his breath while he hopes that Stevens doesn’t bother to ask where his bodyguard has gone, has thought the worst of Jason and assumed that he had just run off.

It would make a rescue attempt much easier, though Bruce isn’t particularly worried. It’s a kidnapping force of, oh, five? Maybe six? Carpet muffles footsteps more than wooden floorboards do, but Bruce is pretty confident of his estimate. Six at most, with at least another team responsible for the fire alarm, so a worst-case scenario of twelve. As long as his measure of their competence isn’t too wrong, Bruce doesn’t anticipate anything worse than a couple of through-and-throughs if he has to fight through this himself.

He knows he won’t have to, though.

The people around him fall silent when their radio comes to life, a panicked man shouting “There’s someone here with us! It’s the Red-” before there’s a loud bang! followed by a terrifying silence.

“Ten,” someone yells tersely back. “Come in, Ten. What the hell was that?”

There’s a general rumble of unease in the room now, and Bruce is allowed a vicious, nasty smile because no one can see him under here. At least ten people are in on this, and about half of those are in here with him while the rest are out there with Jason. He considers making an effort to tap out in Morse how many goons are with him right now, since Jason has half a dozen ways to track his location with all the kit Bruce has on him, but decides against it.

Let the boy have some fun.

“Let me go, I’ll do anything you want,” he calls out half-heartedly, but no one gives a shit because there’s another panicked broadcast by another panicked man that cuts off abruptly. The tension in the room is palpable, feels more solid than the sack on his head, and it goes frizzy with electricity when the Red Hood’s terrifying static growl comes through on the radio.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Jason’s mangled voice croons through the line. Bruce feels goosebumps ripple up his arms, and feels oddly, hideously proud. “Two down, a few more to go. Hope you’ll put up more of a fight.”

Then there’s a sharp crack, and the line goes quiet.

“You promised me this would be just in-and-out! You said that Wayne would be out of here as soon as you got him! You didn’t say anything about a vigilante running me down in my own building!”

Ah, that’s Dr. Stevens losing his nerve. His tirade is cut short by a hard slap, it sounds like, and the voice Bruce thinks of as One is the only thing to be heard above the quiet whimpers of a panicking doctor.

“You agreed to do anything that needed to be done as long as you got a cut of the pay,” One says coldly. “Too late to get cold feet now, doctor.” There’s the sound of the walkie-talkie being turned back on. “Transport is incoming. Disappear and make your way out, regroup in safe house Gamma. It’s just one man against all of us, so don't lose your heads and we’ll get our money.”

Nobody responds verbally, probably because radio silence is golden when trying to beat a hasty retreat. Bruce feels his ropes come loose, and he’s forced to his feet as the kidnappers discuss their plans with more discretion than Stevens shooting off his mouth. He catches bits and pieces of conversation, mentions of the docks and allusions to the highest bidder, but everything goes instantly, deathly silent when the radio comes to life again.

“Three down, four down, five down. Be seeing you real soon, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce doesn’t need to pretend to take in a shaky breath.

-

God, code names are an absolute necessity when carrying out this sort of dirty work, but Jason wants to have a sit-down with whoever decided to go with numbers for this little shindig. First man taken out and he already knows this goes at least ten fuckers deep. The leader’s figured out that yelling the number of men he has in his employ down a radio the enemy has access to isn’t a great idea, but somebody with an army of a hundred wouldn’t have been so concerned with the downing of one, so Jason’s pretty much got confirmation that this is a small-scale, quick-in quick-out kind of affair.

They’ll be looking to move Bruce, with that whole ‘transport incoming’ message. Jason’s got Bruce’s location pulled up, B’s comms actively recording vitals and transmitting its location, and from the lack of movement it’s easy to tell they’re planning a getaway through the front entrance.

He’s also happy to note that Bruce’s resting heart rate’s still at an insulting 45 beats a minute mid-kidnapping, though boy it sure did spike every time Red Hood sent out a message. Good to know, real fucking good to know.

After taking out the fifth guy, Jason doesn’t run into anybody else on his way to the main entrance, and he doesn’t particularly care if some small fry are getting away. The priority is getting Bruce to safety, and then doing clean-up on the kidnappers and Dr. Creepazoid. A showdown within the lobby is endlessly preferable to a showdown outside, if only because it’s easier to keep track of people if they can’t run away from you. Double-checking that Bruce actually is being slowly moved towards the main entrance from wherever they stashed him, Jason happily beats them to the front doors and barricades them in with him, stacking tables and chairs and cupboards into a heavy, impenetrable mess.

Sure, whoever’s coming to pick them up might be armed enough to break on through, but Jason has intimate knowledge of what mercenaries are like. Thoughts like ‘I sure as hell am not paid enough to deal with this’ are common and powerful enough to dissuade most mercs in this situation. It’s what you get when you team-build on money instead of insane, intangible things like love and loyalty, losers.

Jason looks around at the arena of his making and makes a quick decision to climb up a display case stuffed full of the toys kids can expect to see in the gift shop. It’s sturdy enough, though the thin metal frames groan a little under his weight. Jason sheathes his sickle and powers down the lights lining his helmet, lies in wait like a hungry dog in the dark as he calms his breathing and imagines what it will be like to beat the living daylights out of people who think it’s cool to disrupt a well-earned date on a much-anticipated night.

It’s another ten minutes or so before he picks up the sound of heavy feet trying to be unnaturally quiet on cheap carpet. They haven’t rounded the corner and they’re still out of sight, but with his helmet enhancing his hearing Jason’s already getting plenty of information. At least five people with heavy, careful steps, likely the assailants heavy in their armour and weapons. One set of footsteps shuffling along the carpet, all hesitance and distaste, and that’s got to be Stevens.

And in the middle of it all, walking in a weird off-kilter rhythm like a man who either has a stone in his shoe or is determined to make as distinctive a walk as possible, is Bruce. Up and walking of his own power, which is excellent. Jason doesn’t need to go into this fight concerned with keeping an unconscious Bruce safe. This is going to be an activity with full participation by all parties, hell yeah.

Speaking of participation.

Jason taps the side of his helmet and connects to Bruce’s comms. “B,” he says, low and sweet just to unsettle Bruce. “I’ve got altitude on a cabinet on the eastern wall of the entrance. I’ll see you right as you come in, and I’m gonna attack before anybody knows what’s happening. Get behind the reception desk if you can. Do you copy?”

As per the training handbook for situations when you’re too deep behind enemy lines to do much of anything, Bruce registers his acknowledgment with three sharp clicks, teeth clacking against each other in rapid succession.

Jason arches his back, loosening his muscles before he curls up again, ready to literally pounce. The footsteps are drawing closer, and they have just a few seconds before shit is going to hit the fan. He unhooks his sickle, and grins at absolutely nothing.

“Oh, and B?”

A click.

“Be good for me.”

Bruce’s heart rate spikes just as the group of men round the corner, and Jason’s laughing like a loon as the lines of his helmet burn back to life and he descends on the kidnappers, a hound out of hell.

-

There’s something primordially terrifying about seeing a fury in red and black descend on you from the sky. Bruce knows what the plan is, knows exactly how menacing a figure Jason can cut when he wants to be dramatic, but even then he couldn’t stop instinctively reaching for the handy, wicked little pocket knife in his pocket the second he saw the lines of the helmet glowing through the dark of his hood.

In the panicked yelling as Jason leaps into the fray and starts systematically annihilating a group of heavily armed men who can’t fight back without shooting each other, it’s easy for Bruce to break free of his captors and rip the sack off his head. He ducks under the flailing butt of a gun and takes a moment to shatter someone’s kneecap with the metal cuffs on his wrists before he’s rolling out of the way, belly-crawling towards the sturdy reception desk.

Dr. Stevens is yelling and trying to run away but Jason keeps plucking at him and pulling him back into the brawl with a vengeance Bruce grudgingly admires. By the time Bruce has climbed up on a chair to get a better view of the fight while staying mostly out of sight, half the men are already a groaning pile on the ground.

By the time Bruce has freed himself from his handcuffs, Stevens is an unconscious mess on the ground, and by the time Bruce has texted home and requested that Alfred call the police, it’s just Jason and One circling each other, both their faces hidden, blades in their hands.

Bruce notes with some interest that where Jason had kept his sickle sheathed and mostly used the blunt outer curve to knock people unconscious, the wicked edge is now out and gleaming as One strikes at him with a nasty Bowie knife. The hand-to-hand is quick and brutal, both of them trading hits and jabs. Whatever armour One is wearing is holding up well against Jason’s sickle, which is fair enough.

Bruce would need to get closer to know for sure, but it certainly looks like the sickle Alfred uses to carefully weed the tulip bed. No point in sharpening a gardening tool to be sharp enough to bite into flesh.

Less pleasing is how One’s knife doesn’t seem to struggle much with cutting through Jason’s costume. The new mesh Bruce had designed in response to Jason’s irritated demand for a slimmer, sleeker costume was supposed to be able to withstand most edged weapons, but even in the dark it’s easy to see where the black fabric has been cut and Jason’s skin and blood are visible instead. Trust Jason to do quality testing in the absolute worst times.

Back to the drawing board it is. One is taunting Jason, allowing Jason to swipe ineffectively at him before laughing and slashing back. “Is this all you got?” the man crows from behind his balaclava, radiating smugness. “I don’t know what I was worried about. I’ll have you and Wayne brought in for sale, and I wonder who the highest bidder will be.” Another quick jab, and Jason’s forearm is marked. “Wonder which of you Mister J would want more as a playmate.”

At that, Jason goes stock still. It’s so sudden that it clearly startles One, who retreats a little, knife up and ready to go. Bruce finds himself with his jaw clenched shut, teeth grinding so hard it’s like lockjaw in three seconds or less.

Of all the things some no-name budget kidnapper could have said. Bruce taps on his comms, opens a line to Jason, because if One keeps push push pushing like this, he won’t live to see morning.

One might not live to see the next minute, if Jason’s slow, terrifying stride towards him means anything.

“Jason,” Bruce whispers into the comm. “Jason, enough. You’ve done enough. Stop playing with your food, come here and let me check on you.”

Across the lobby, Jason once against draws to a halt, but it doesn’t stick. One figures out that actually, the Red Hood had been getting sliced up into ribbons more as a weird exploratory experience than because of a lack of skill, and he figures it out by way of Jason coming right up to him in the blink of an eye, disarming him by snapping the wrist of the hand holding the knife, and grabbing him by the throat with a grip tight enough to kill.

One is currently absolutely sure that he’s about to die.

So is Bruce, who knows that he cannot reach the man faster than Jason can snap a neck. “Jason!” he damn near bellows down the comms, damn near shouts across the room. “Enough. You come when called. You come when I call.”

And like a miracle, like the time Jason came back all those years ago and all the times Jason’s come for him ever since, it works.

One is dropped to the ground, unconscious and foaming at the mouth, and Jason’s barrelling towards Bruce.

As Bruce is swept up and back into the depths of the evacuated aquarium, he finds himself thinking we’ve had worse.

-

Jason isn’t sure why his first instinct after being called off of the murder of a singularly horrible man is to haul Bruce up and run to the deep sea exhibit, but he’s willing to admit to himself that calm only comes back to him when they’re finally buried in the quiet dark of a room of things softly bioluminescing.

He’s got no love lost for the Joker, has fought the bastard enough times since that it’s not residual fear that snapped him. Here, far far away from the wreckage, it’s easy to identify that his trigger had been superimposing the many, many horrors Jason has personally died from and lived through onto Bruce. Bruce who in many ways has the worst luck of any person he’s ever known, Bruce who would sooner rip into himself than be put into a Pit, Bruce who has to be careful with his burritos and his knees, put under the loveless purview of a madman with a crowbar.

Being protective of other people is generally a good thing, but trust Jason to wield care like a bludgeon. He scoffs, and drops Bruce unceremoniously next to the trapdoor. He could take off his helmet, no one and nothing could see him here, but the mortification of being seen out of control makes it really fucking unappealing.

Bruce sits up and looks around, acting like not a single weird thing has happened this entire night. “I’ve never seen the deep sea exhibition,” he says, like he’s having a normal conversation, like this is just the middle of a perfectly pleasant, perfectly average date.

“I saw a poster, they only built this section after I died,” Jason says dully.

Bruce hums like that’s information enough. “I’m glad we’re getting to see it then.” He tugs at Jason’s leg. “Sit.”

And Jason does, his legs folding underneath him before a thought’s even fully formed. He remembers when he was redesigning the helmet and was struggling to pick a look that was both menacing and just plain cool. The one he settled on had been one of Damian’s designs, all geometric shapes and the suggestion of creature. It had reminded him of a jackal, of Anubis, like death come in the shape of this thing with a muzzle and teeth.

Right now it feels like he’d chosen the look of a dog, a dog with the brand of bat to describe its master, and he feels like a mangy, wild thing desperate for Bruce, just for Bruce.

He takes back every mean, unkind thought he’s ever had about the date at the rec centre. Let him bury his hands into a dozen masses of gelatinous hair than force him to think about things like this, think about himself like this.

Jason’s tight with tension, but Bruce doesn’t push him to talk. Bruce doesn’t force him to do anything, just has a hand wrapped around the nape of Jason’s neck, thumb rubbing at the seam where metal helmet meets skin. They sit in this weird, tingly silence even as Alfred’s pings requesting an update become more urgent, and Jason realises that they’ll stay in this weird, tingly silence until he makes a move.

“What the fuck are we doing, B?” he says at last.

“Whatever we want to, Jaybird.” Bruce is ignoring a lot of his own damn rules about names in uniform, but he still seems remarkably unconcerned about everything. “How are you?”

Jason groans, giving up and tipping over so that he’s sprawled uncomfortably over Bruce’s legs. “Feel fucking awful. I can’t believe I’m the kind of guy that loses his shit just because some asshole said something vaguely threatening to you.”

“I think it shows good character.” Bruce rests a hand on Jason’s shoulder, the other still carefully cradling his head. “But I’m not a good judge of character, so take that with a grain of salt.”

Jason barks out a laugh at that. “You sure fucking are. I knew that director guy was skeezy the moment I saw him. Can’t believe he didn’t set off alarm bells in your head within the first thirty seconds, B.”

Bruce just shrugs. “If I reacted badly to everyone that I thought I couldn’t trust, I’d rarely get to stop.”

Well, the man’s got a point. “Still. He’s apparently shitty with staff too, so at least we’re solving a bunch of problems all at once with this night out.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Jason.”

Jason forces himself to sit back up, a little alarmed by the little note that’s appeared informing him that the police are about five minutes away from the aquarium. “That’s a damn lie and you know it.” Even the strongest of the kidnappers wasn’t anything much above average for a night out on patrol, and Bruce is nothing if not ruthlessly efficient when the fight’s in a public place.

Bruce gets to his feet, careful and ginger, and Jason can’t help but just stare at his stupid wholly-human knees. Bruce doesn’t mention it, doesn’t draw attention that renowned vigilante and crime boss the Red Hood has his head not a foot away from his legs, and just holds his hand out to him instead. “How about, I wouldn’t have enjoyed this night without you?”

Jason takes a moment to pretend to think about it, but he knows his answer. “I”ll take it.” Like he takes Bruce’s hand, like he takes things from Bruce because it’s what he wants and it’s what he’s earned. “I should get out of here before the pigs show up.”

“See you back at the Manor?” It’s only half past midnight, which means this date’s ended a good three hours earlier than their usual. Bruce looks like he’s asking only as an afterthought; of course Jason’s coming home with him.

Jason struggles to think of anything more pleasant than sitting out on their balcony in the dark with a hot drink in hand, electric blanket doggedly trying to keep them warm even as the outlet threatens to explode from the snow that’s supposed to start at 2 AM.

He also struggles to imagine how he’s going to be good company when his head is in as much disarray as it currently is. How open is Bruce to some heavy petting outdoors if Jason can’t convince himself to take his helmet off the whole time? How likely is the night to devolve into them sitting awkwardly in frigid silence until someone snaps and starts an argument just for the sake of a change of pace?

“Yeah, I’m thinking that’s not a good idea.”

That gets Bruce to stop shabbying himself up to look like an actual kidnapping victim, cuffs already locked again. “I see. Why is that?”

Jason shrugs, and is glad that his face is still unseen even if it feels like his whole damn body is letting B in on the secret. “It’s a 'feeling kinda feral' kinda day. I’m going to go blow off some steam.” Run a couple of laps around the lake in the memorial park, and if he gets close enough to hypothermia he might start forgetting the quiet kshkshh sound of delicate neck bones grinding under his hand.

He feels violence wiggling just an inch under his skin, and that’s another self-imposed rule for nights out with Bruce. Any time his grip on himself feels even a pound looser than it should be, Jason’s going to take time for himself because this deep into this relationship he’s surer than ever that there’s a hell of a lot of brutality he could let loose and Bruce would just take it and take it and take it.

Jason will not bite his mas-

He’s forcibly taken out of his thoughts by a sharp rap against his helmet. He strikes out instinctively, and catches Bruce's hand in a tight grip. “What the hell, B.”

“You weren’t responding,” Bruce tells him matter-of-factly, not pulling away. “I said, you can go and run yourself ragged. After that, you come home.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

Bruce smiles a proper smile, sharp and smug and sweet, and leans over to press a kiss to Jason’s hand wrapped around his own. “Because, Jason, I listened when you told me to keep away and keep safe. Isn’t it your turn now?”

It’s all about that give-and-take baby, and Jason just might fucking howl.

He releases Bruce in a flash, and his helmet’s unlatched and crashing to the ground not a second later. Bruce could have aikido’d him over his shoulder and flung him clear across the room because Jason’s not the most coordinated he’s ever been right now, but instead the man just widens his stance and wholly and easily accepts Jason throwing himself at Bruce face first.

It’s a maddening kiss, because Jason’s just shoved Bruce against the blood jelly tank so that he can get into position for a good grind when an alert goes off from his helmet, and Alfred’s too-loud voice calls out to tell them that “The police officers have arrived, sirs.”

Jason groans and pulls back slightly, trying to catch his breath as he digs his teeth into Bruce’s shoulder despite the three layers of expensive fabric in the way. “I hate everything,” he says, half-heartedly groping at Bruce’s chest.

“Hate it in your free time,” Bruce mutters into his hair, before choking a little because he caught a mouthful of semi-permanent dye. “On our nights, be good.”

Relationships are a contract, and Jason’s willingly agreed to these terms for, ah, close to a year now. It doesn’t mean he won’t grumble, or mess up Bruce’s perfectly styled hair just to make him grumble too. “Yeah, yeah, old man, I know what I’m about. Go and distract the cops already, I need to get away.”

Bruce lazily salutes him, looking dishevelled and mussed and suitably victimised. Jason is one damn inch away from dragging B down to the ground and reinstating his territory, god. Instead, he grabs his bag and picks up his helmet, and dawdles a little by the hatch. “You gonna be okay, old man?”

“Of course,” Bruce says confidently, ripping buttons off his coat and toeing one shoe off to look extra pathetic. “I have a hot date to keep. I’ll see you at home, Jason.”

What’s a man to do when given an order like that?

Jason obeys.

-

A/N: i’ve literally had ‘king tide come through’ listed as a title i wanted for something since last year?? it doesn’t even really mean anything i just love that the highest high tides are kings and it’s got such a nice ring to it. my approach to titling things is that it has to slap, thanks for coming to my TED talk ;9

#brujay #bruce wayne #jason todd #whale writing #i haven't been to many aquariums at all but #generally my idea of a good time is me being close to a Big Body Of Water #as long as i don't obsess on the survival rates of the lads in the tanks #being that close that much water is inexplainably soothing #and bc feb has been all sorts of miserable for me personally #i wanted some soothing

[bnhablessings]

Confession

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing? (C’mon it’s Bakugou here of course it’s going to be a swear storm)

Words: 2,881

So I recently got into 19 Days (I binged read all of it within a few hours and omg I love it so much. I’m so mad it took me this long to get into it) and this was inspired by the moment between Xiao Hui and Jian Yi and a letter. I am trying to be vague for those who haven’t read it lmao but yeah, this was created because I love 19 Days and the characters remind me of Bakugou and the squad :’)

(I am being so self-indulgent forgive this mess I made)

I am tempted to somehow make a reader insert for 19 Days now help me

I headcanon that Bakugou’s favorite word is fuck

“Mina, this is getting annoying. I don’t even get why people like me,” You murmur as you hand her yet another note received by a guy from another class.

She scans it with ease before laughing.  While pinching your cheeks she murmurs, “It’s because you are the cutest thing alive. However, I am curious as to why you turn them all down. You got so many hotties looking at you all the damn time! I’m jealous!”

A new voice pops up and slings around your arms, “Yeah. Why turn them down? As a potential male who loves you, I am curious to know!”

Denki is, of course, teasing you but it makes you flush in embarrassment. You don’t say a word… until they give you the puppy dog eyes. You cave in.

“I have my eyes on one person but… he’s out of my league. He’s amazing so I just can’t imagine myself by his side,” You state in a slightly saddened tone.

Unbeknownst to you, they already know you are referring to. Their number one favorite person to annoy and a mutual friend of yours, Bakuhoe. They also hate how dense you are and how stubborn he is because it’s obvious the way his behavior slightly changes around you that he likes you too.

As if the two can read minds, they lock gazes with each other and seem to agree upon something.

“I know (Name)! I think you should give one of your suitors a chance!” Mina states loudly.

Denki nods his head frantically in agreement as he yells, “Yeah! Go out with me!”

“I need to go yeet myself off the roof now since you’re being too loud with my problems,” You murmur as you hurry to leave the classroom to evade all the looks you’re getting from your peers.

Mina and Denki merely smile at each other in victory. Yeah. They’re about to play terrible matchmakers but in the end, they will win with this. “Shall we go let Sero and Kirishima in on this?” Mina asks as she puts her hand out in a silent deal.

“We shall.” Cue the devil horns on the two.

~*~

You groan into your desk. Throughout the week it feels like your problems with suitors have increased. You feel awful for turning them all down and slowly you are feeling like Mina may be right. Maybe it is time to at least give it thought before turning a person down.

A flick to the back of your head forces you to look up into ruby red eyes. Your heart freezes from the concerned look you are getting before it falls. Right, he will always just be a friend.

“What’s up with you?” Katsuki questions

You sigh inwardly as you try to act like your normal crackhead self. “I was just thinking about how I want to become as muscly and angry as you so I can take down everyone in my path.”

Immediately, a vein pops from his head and you regret everything. Before he can punch you like he normally does when you say something stupid, Denki and Mina appear before the both of you. Denki casually wraps an arm around your shoulders while Mina looks up with a glint in her eyes.

“Say (Name), I heard that an attractive person from Class B gave you a note this morning. Did you think about what I said?” Mina questions most definitely catching Katsuki’s attention.

You sigh this time not hiding it as you get up. “I need to get a snack before Aizawa comes back,” You state.

In your absence and now stuck with worse idiots, Katsuki gets visibly even more annoyed. “What the hell are you two planting in her head?” He growls out affected by how distant you seemed lately.

“Oh! She’s been having trouble with confessions lately so we merely suggested she should give one of them a chance,” Denki states like it’s no biggie.

Katsuki’s eyes widen and his scowl grows. A popping sound is resonating from his hands. Mina and Denki try to hide their smirks. Checkmate for jealousy.

~*~

“I’m thinking about giving (Name) a note,” Eijiro states looking rather serious.

This stops conversation in the Bakusquad especially as Katsuki glares at the red-head. You are absent today so the squad has finally decided to enact their plan that should take effect tomorrow when you return from school.

Hanta is smiling as he asks, “A note? Like all the confessions she’s been getting?”

“Yeah! It seems pretty manly to do so, and she is really cute so I figured why not?” Eijiro laughs while scratching the back of his head.

He knows the risks since Katsuki gets weird about you. He knows he might get slaughtered but it’ll be worth it to finally see you together. To his and all of their surprise though, Katsuki doesn’t say a word. He looks angry as usual.

Deciding to up it up a notch, Mina asks, “Do you even like her though? You know (Name) is sentimental. She’ll want the relationship to mean something.”

“Well, we’re already friends and she’s not the type to make things awkward so I have a feeling it’ll be different. If not, it was a manly try!” Eijiro goes on.

When no reaction happens Denki gives it one last shot, “What do you think Bakugou?”

“Why the fuck do you wanna know?” He growls out.

Eijiro feigns excitement as he goes on with the idea, “Yeah, Bakubro! You know more about her since you two are close! Do I have a chance with her?”

“I don’t fucking know or care so fuck off,” It’s so painfully obvious he is pissed off from this topic.

The four members of the squad all sigh in an almost defeated way until a new voice speaks up. They turn their head to see it’s Todoroki who was listening in on the conversation.

“It sounds like you do know and do care from the distinct sound of popping,” Todoroki states.

Katsuki stands up out of anger now and questions, “How the hell does it concern you?”

When Todoroki doesn’t say anything Mina gets a look of pure horror on her face as she turns to face the squad. They all have some stupid way of communicating with each other with just their facial expressions.

You don’t think he likes her, do you? Mina is horrified at the thought.

No way, he and Bakubro just have a rivalry going on. Nothing new. Eijiro somehow conveys with the frown on his face.

I think he likes her. Hanta is eyeing the dual-haired boy.

Find out! The mission can’t fail! Denki is making the X movement with his arms.

“All of you are pissing me the hell off with your stupid faces! Stop moving like that too dunce-face!” Katsuki yells at them. They wince but are grateful he didn’t get the meaning behind their faces.

Mina ignores the insults as she turns to look at Todoroki and asks, “Do you like her?”

Todoroki is intimidating as he is silent in his pondering. With a nod to his head, he vocalizes his thoughts, “Yes. It’s none of my business what you do Bakugou but it’s obvious from the way you act that you like her. It’s a shame that she has interest in you as well but if you’re going to play denial that gives me the advantage.”

The whole gang’s faces light up at his words. Not the fact that he admitted his like towards their favorite girl but the fact he pointed out that the two idiots obviously liked each other. They turn to face their angry boy only to see his face completely blank.

It stays that way for the rest of the day.

~*~

“Did I miss much yesterday?” You ask softly.

Katsuki says nothing making you furrow your eyebrows at him. It’s just the two of you in the hallway since you both arrived earlier than usual. You were ready to give up on speaking to him since he’s being weird until he shuffles himself to look at you.

“Do you like someone?” His question is harsh and usually, the tone wouldn’t have bothered you if he didn’t quickly add, “Some of the guys who ogle you were fucking annoying yesterday, asking me where the hell you were.”

Ah, your heart feels like it’s stinging. Reluctantly you answer, “I do and it’s stupid because they wouldn’t like me back.”

His expression remains hostile but his tone is a bit less harsh as he asks, “What are they like?”

“Annoying and stupid, so a bit like me I guess? He doesn’t hesitate for the things he wants. He sucks at communication but so do I. However, I know he cares deep down for the people he loves. It’s a trait I admire and I know they’ll be the number one hero one day,” You state with a sad smile on your face.

You described him obviously but the look he’s giving you is one of disgust. “Oh fuck- They’re in this class? Annoying and stupid- Is it fucking Deku or that stupid Icy-Hot?!” The venom in his voice is terrible but understandable since he thinks you’re describing the people he loathes.

You don’t get the chance to explain as you hear a happy voice call for you along with the rest of the squad.

“(Name)! I missed you yester-“ Eijiro doesn’t get the opportunity to speak more as Katsuki almost explodes his face off.

He’s on the floor from the impact but he’s fine. You hear him groan. Yeah… he’s fine. Katsuki mumbles, “It’s too fucking early for this goddamn nonsense.”

When Eijiro gets back up he looks at you excitedly and speaks again, “I need to giv-“

He’s back on the floor. Mina looks at Denki and Hanta with confusion. Mission status: closer but almost a failure?

Well, they know Katsuki isn’t going to let Eijiro “confess” to you.

~*~

In the courtyard, the Bakusquad is trying to regroup during their lunch break. It felt like a long day that hasn’t gotten anywhere with their plan.

“Well, that was a bust,” Hanta states.

Eijiro groans out in pain but manages to speak, “Bakubro is manlier than I thought to protect his crush from me.”

“You got hit 49, nope, 50 times. I think you’re manlier for not giving up sooner,” Denki states as he casually passes over a list of tallies he made for each time the poor red-head got assaulted.

Mina sighs loudly as she asks in desperation, “Don’t we have a backup plan? I thought the jealousy thing would’ve worked but he’s just stopping all Kiri’s advances. Why did it have to be this hard?!”

“SHUSH! HE’S COMING!” Denki practically screeches from seeing how ticked off Katsuki is as he stalks towards them.

The boy is literally shaking as if he’ll explode himself. However, instead of the yelling they were expecting, he speaks in an eerily calm voice. That terrifies them even more.

“When will you fucking give up? I am aware you are just being so damn annoying to try and match us up. There’s no way Shitty Hair would ever seriously confess to her because that would be breaking his so-called man code. Knock it off before I get furious. Got it?” Katsuki growls out.

Hanta is the first one to speak, “Awe man, you knew?”

“If you knew the whole time then- You like her and she likes yo-“ Mina is cut off when Katsuki finally loses it.

He yells at them the anger and slight embarrassment evident in his voice, “She doesn’t fucking like me! Okay?! So drop it!”

“Why would you say that? She doe-“

As Eijiro and Denki try to convince the vicious boy that he’s wrong, Mina spots a certain dual-haired boy headed inside with a white envelope in his hands. Her eyes widen and immediately she jerks her elbow into one of the boys by her, which happened to be poor Hanta. He looks to see where she is looking and gets the hint immediately.

Mina slaps a hand over Denki’s mouth while Hanta does the same to Eijiro and they both apologize. “We’ll drop it. Are you going to stay out here and eat with us?” Mina asks knowing fully well he wants nothing to do with them at this moment.

A split second passes and his reply is, “Fuck no.”

Bingo. Mina gives her fellow boys a look suggesting that they best put on their ninja mode.

~*~

Katsuki walks the halls to head back to the classroom. It’ll be a while before class actually starts but he needs the time to think for a bit. However, that thought flies right out the window as soon as he hears your soft-spoken voice right around the corner. He stops and sticks to the wall to eavesdrop.

“Todoroki… what is this?” Your voice is doubtful and it sounds like you are giving something back to him.

Katsuki is deathly still as he listens to Icy-Hot speak, “You know what it is. I know it’s in vain because you already like someone else, don’t you?”

When you speak, Katsuki is surprised at how shaky your voice comes out, “Yes. It’s stupid but yes. I was going to try, really try per Mina’s request to say yes to someone’s confession. As soon as I saw your envelope I was going to say yes- but I just- I just can’t.”

“It is Bakugou, correct?” Todoroki questions.

Katsuki can’t explain it but his blood is boiling yet again. This time he is angry at himself because this just doesn’t seem correct. Your words from earlier don’t match now.

“Yes.”

Todoroki hums and asks, “May I know why?”

You reply without a hitch and this time with a certain fondness in your tone, “He can be so damn infuriating. He is smart but can be a bit dumb as I did say similar words to him earlier and he thought I was referring to you or Midoriya. Even if he denies it he’s a pretty good friend. He takes care of us. I’ve never seen someone deny friendship the way he has but still remember details that no one else would-“

Katsuki’s heart is pounding. He’s pissed because he was wrong. Even more so that you are confessing everything to Icy-Hot about him and not to him. It bothers him that the stupid Icy-Hot guy thought he had a chance with you and even more so that you could’ve said yes if your feelings weren’t strong enough for him. He can’t take it anymore.

You freeze in absolute fear upon hearing footsteps step out as Katsuki finally reveals himself. Todoroki hides a pleased smile and states, “I’ll be taking my leave now. I’ll see you in class (Last Name).”

You’re too in shock to return his goodbye. Instead, you’re contemplating on running for your life or pretending that Katsuki didn’t just hear your confession. The look on his face suggests there are no options as such.

Still you decide to play dumb, “Hello, Bakugou. Fine weather, we’re having, huh?”

STUPID. STUPID. STUPID.

“Dumbass,” Katsuki mutters under his breath before he tugs you by your wrist and pulls you into him.

It was worth a shot but now you are awkwardly frozen. Of course, you were expecting a yell or a punch from him but since that didn’t happen you were hopelessly confused at this new unexpected soft side of him. He’s hugging you tightly.

His breathing is ragged as he seems to be having an internal conflict in his head. You feel pain on your cheek as he decided to pinch it.

“I fucking like you too, idiot. Your mine now so if you get any more of those damn confessions, tell me and I’ll set them straight.”

He removes his fingers from your cheek and this time you pull him into a hug, unable to contain the happiness you’re feeling from having your feelings being mutual.

“By the fucking way you are the annoying and stupid one,” He growls out as he finally remembers the insult (though it is a trait you adore).

You laugh as you purposely say, “Whatever Bakagou.”

“BAKA?! Fucking whatever. It’s Katsuki to you now.”

~*~

Once the Bakusquad and Todoroki hear yours and Bakugou’s footsteps disappear to the direction of the classroom, they finally start high-fiving each other, minus Todoroki who is pleased.

“I had no clue you were just bluffing about liking her! What are you some kind of genius?!” Mina questions the dual-haired male.

Todoroki simply shrugs and states, “You guys weren’t too quiet about your whole plan you made. Watching you guys fail was painful as well. You simply need an obstacle to make you think desperately and have Bakugou fall into your hands.”

“We weren’t quiet? Maybe that’s how Bakubro found out,” Eijiro laughs.

Denki shakes his head as he does the finger gun motion to Todoroki, “Either way thank you for helping us out! We needed it!”

“I’m just glad Mission get the idiots together worked!” Hanta states.

Todoroki shakes his head, “See. Even the name for the missions is too obvious.”

Mina just smiles. The mission was successful.

#boko no hero academia #mha #bnha #fanfiction #oneshot #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #fluff #anime #manga #19 days #reader insert #cute #bakusqaud #todoroki shōto

[veravertorp]

narcissa black | twenty | pureblood | civilian 

wand: cherry and dragon Heartstring, 10 inches, unbending. boggart: herself and her family in rags, their prestige and influence gone.   patronus: lioness. pet: none. job: socialite. faceclaim: holliday grainger. 

                                          history

The youngest out of three sisters, Narcissa has always been a bit more spoiled than most, especially being a Black. From a very young age all her life has been dictated by her parents and in the future her chosen husband, but it seems as if she doesn’t mind. For Narcissa it is mainly easier to follow the path others had made for her rather than create her own. As long as Narcissa was well behaved and conducted herself in a true lady-like manner, her parents were pleased. Pleased enough to give her everything a young girl could only dream. The finest clothing and jewels the wizarding world can offer (of course nothing muggle made) and they doted on her more so than her two older sisters. Although that affection only came via materialistic presents rather than true affection, something (she’d never admit) Narcissa very much craved. After understanding at a young age that her parent’s would never give her that, she turned into a romantic. Believing that one day her pureblood prince would come on his white horse, Narcissa become very much obsessed with love. Alas, her storybook ending wasn’t in the cards. Lucius Malfoy. A name that would haunt her endlessly, the name that deprived her from achieving the true love she so desperately craved. Narcissa knows she doesn’t have a choice in the matter and it is her duty to marry him, but she can’t help but sometimes hope that one day he will come to love her; but every time they’ve met had only made her dreams seem farther and farther away.

At Hogwarts she enjoyed herself, a circle of pureblood friends whom she’s known for years and her sisters whom she was close to during those years, although now it seems as if they had grown apart. It seemed as everyone knew of her, but no one knew who she was due to the fact that Narcissa was a somewhat private person, her secrets are to be kept hidden. She didn’t have the need to mingle with houses other than her own Slytherin, because Narcissa didn’t believe they were worth any of her time. Her studies went very well, earning top scores among her peers and her robes brand new on a monthly bases. It was more a peaceful time in Narcissa’s life, a time were she could somewhat be away from her parent’s constant watch, but she could never completely be relaxed for they had eyes everywhere.

Narcissa is aware of the upcoming war, there is no where to hide from the whispers that consume almost every corridor in the Black manor. She tries to stray away from bluntly choosing a side, mainly due to fear. Her life currently is exactly as she sees fit and the possibility that will change scares her, but her pride as a pureblood deems as there is no other option than for them to end up on top. Her joining the Malfoy family will only add to her prestige and influence in the wizarding community, and truly believes that no matter the outcome, their influence will never waver.

Currently staying at the Black Manor, Narcissa is playing a waiting game. Waiting for the upcoming war, waiting for her marriage, just…waiting. It is slowing consuming her and her sanity, and Narcissa is hopeful that things will change for the better in the upcoming months.

                                      personality

- Immature; Due to being the “baby” of the family, it should be no surprise that Narcissa can act somewhat childish. She never really had much responsibility, since other people always took care of her, whether it be the maids or her older sisters.

- Jealous; Narcissa usually spends her time alone the past couple years and somewhere inside her she is jealous of the active life her family has, where she stays at home most of the day. She also has this thing about being upset when someone tries to take something that belongs to her.

- Remorseless; Narcissa does not care at all if her decisions affected others, she has no remorse at all. She only thinks of what effects her, and doesn’t ever regret it, since she took so long to get to that conclusion.

- Manipulative; Anything that Narcissa would want, she would most likely receive it. For a Black, it was unlikely for a member of the family not to receive their wishes, and they were taught to use their words wisely. With lots of thought behind her words, Narcissa learned the art of having a silver tongue, and even as a small child mastered the skill.

+ Analytical; Have you heard of people rushing into things? Thinking without acting? Well Narcissa is the exact opposite; she won’t make any rash decisions at all. She always thinks over and over about her choices before making any.

+ Nurturing; Narcissa has a trait that she was most likely born with. She cares about the people around her and has the nagging need to take care of them all the time. Most of the time she is even unaware that she is being “motherly” to others, and does it mainly out of habit.

+ Charming; She is quite charming when the heiress wants to be. Narcissa can be quite the social butterfly, although mainly to reserves that to people that she finds worthy, and are on her level.

+ Feminine; There is no more of a lady than Narcissa Black. Her bloodline, the way she holds herself, behavior, all of this just screams of a lady. Of course she is, Narcissa was trained from a young age to behave that way, the woman knows no other way of life.

                                 relationships

bellatrix & andromeda black // while not quite three peas in a pod, she does feel she can count on her sisters when she needs them. or at least, she used to. andromeda has been growing more distant lately, and sometimes bellatrix scares her with her intensity for the cause. lucius malfoy //  knowing they were betrothed from a young age hasn’t helped their relationship at all. he seems to feel forced into it, and she hates knowing that she’s in a relationship with someone who wouldn’t have picked her, had he had the choice. she strives to be everything he wants anyway. severus snape // although she won’t admit it to anyone, she’s always felt a quiet compassion for the smart boy who struggled so much to fit in during their school years. while she’s not blatant about it, she tries to reach out to him and offer bits of friendship when she can. alice fortescue // few people irritate her as much as alice. she seems too good and pure to be real, and narcissa feels like she’s always acting holier-than-thou. narcissa doesn’t miss a chance to knock her down a peg. 

NARCISSA BLACK is unfortunately TAKEN!

#narcissa black #marauders era rp #marauders rp #hp rp #new rp #skeleton rp #narcissabio

[danielesux]

･:*:･ﾟ☆ ( alycia debnam-carey. 25. cisfemale. she/her. ) ↷ ( daniele 'dani' nemeth ) has been spotted by the paparazzi in los angeles. they are a ( b ) list celebrity known for their career as an ( actress ). they’re known by their fans to be ( affectionate, humble, & open-minded ) but the tabloids frequently portray them to be ( lazy, reticent, & jealous ) . i wish them every success in the entertainment industry. ( michelle. 22. est. she/her. ) ･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

hello, new friends! i’m michelle and i’ve not been in a group like this in many moons so i’m a wee bit nervous, feelin’ a lil shy, but i’m v excited. lemme jump right in and introduce you folks to dani. i’ll have some more detailed stats and such on my page later on, but this is all the need-to-know info as well as some stuff you probs don’t need to know but i feel like sharing anyway! 

her full name is daniele faith nemeth. she’ll answer to daniele and is known professionally that way, but 98% of the people in her life call her dani. 

she’s had dual citizenship in both america and australia since she was a child, since her mom lived in australia (where dani was born) and her dad lived in america. he moved there for work when she was 2, after he’d split with her mom. she wanted to have a relationship with them both, so she lived with her mom during the school years and spent holidays with her father in california. she moved to california full time when she was 18 and looking to begin her career. at first she lived in anaheim with her dad, but she soon moved to los angeles. 

she’s a 25 year old actress, who has done a couple of movies and a handful of smaller roles, and is now a main role on a popular tv show, but she hasn’t always done that sort of tv. 

she first stepped into the spotlight when she was 19 and was cast on a reality show on mtv. (something very close to ‘are you the one?’) her agent said it’d be a good start for her, and she blindly did what he said. it did seem like a fun time, and if she got to meet a few cute people (mostly boys, because of the show’s premise), then that was okay for her.

it wasn’t until after the show was airing that she realized it may have not been a good idea. she began worrying she’d never be taken seriously as an actress because of her reality tv past. luckily, she was able to capitalize on it instead. since her name was out there now and she’d gathered a small fanbase from the show, her agent was able to land her auditions. 

she got a few small roles right away, doing one episode roles on popular shows and having a minor parts in movies. her biggest role to date came in 2017 when she was part of an ensemble cast in a female-led comedy (think something along the lines of bridesmaids?? but set at a college and no one is getting married) where she got to work alongside more established and known actresses. this movie is being called ‘moon girls’ for right now and no i didn’t use some sort of title generator to pick that at random. her character was named elizabeth.

her role in that movie led to even more opportunities for her, the most notable one being her current gig. the first season of her new tv show is now playing and she is one of the main roles. it’s a horror show and spoiler alert, but she’s signed on for three seasons, so she feels like she won’t be dying anytime soon. (i’m thinking it’s a similar show to mtv’s scream. a murder mystery/slasher type of show.) the show has been doing well and is very popular with teens/young adults. for now this show shall be called ‘red dreams’ and no i didn’t use the same generator again, mind your business. she plays a character named savannah. 

so that’s p much the gist of her career, now moving on to more on her personal life and such. 

since she’s started to gain more fame and more fans, she’s been referred to as a ‘bicon’, as she’s very open about being bisexual. her character on ‘red dreams’ is also bi. 

she is proud cat mom, to a 3 year calico cat named chandler. when she adopted him a year and a half ago, that was already his name, and since she’s a casual fan of friends/chandler, she kept the name. she felt bad about changing it, she didn’t want to confuse him. 

while she worked hard to become a respected actress, thats about the only thing she works hard at. she’s a lazy person, always wanting to spend her time on the couch or in bed. give her some fries and other snacks and let her hang out in front of the tv with her cat and she’s happy. 

she doesn’t easily talk about her feelings, sometimes fearing letting people in and seeing her vulnerable side. this is a general thing, but when it comes to romantic feelings, she’s twice as guarded. this doesn’t mean she’s a cold person though. she may avoid genuine, serious talks but she’s still quite affectionate. she’s all about holding hands and cuddling, whether in a platonic way or otherwise. she loves being close and touchy with people - but only people she’s close to, or wants to be close to, if you get me. wink wink nudge nudge. 

some other qualities hmmm. she is jealous, usually with people, sometimes with career things, but she’d never say it out loud. 

she’s humble, almost self deprecating at times. 

she’s one of the least judgmental people ever, and very fair minded, and can usually see both sides of an argument - most arguments, that is. with major things, like lgbt+ issues, etc, she has a side. 

she’s sarcastic, but not cruel, always trying to be friendly and keep the mood light. 

she can be nosy as well, she likes knowing about other people’s drama, but she doesn’t have malicious intent, she’s just a curious person. 

she loves music and tv, and is never not watching or listening to something. 

she is notoriously late for things. she can force herself to make it to sets on time (9 times out of 10 at least) but for most other things? lie to her about the time if you want her there at the right time. 

she’s the person who lurks the group chat and only contributes by sending memes every once in awhile. she is a taurus and yes it matters to her. she’s an astrology hoe. she doesn’t understand any of it but she likes knowing peoples zodiacs signs and reading about their traits and seeing if they’re compatible. 

hey, potential connections and plot ideas!! 

a best friend, because who doesn’t love a good brotp??? i do!! a list, b list, c list, d list, dani doesn’t care and neither do i. she needs a good ride or die in her life. 

co-stars!!! because of course. her two biggest projects were the ‘moon girls’ movie (which probably consisted of a and b list actors) and her current show (probably other b listers mostly) but she had lots of little parts before those, so they could have met when they were both big roles or when dani was just playing barista #5 in their show/movie.

since i mentioned she’s v closed off when it comes to romance, i feel like maybe she’s broken a few hearts in her day. peeps who she got close with and unintentionally led on, and they wanted more but she was Not about to have those convos, so things ended. 

friends with benefits type thing?? dani is gonna realize she just hurts people if she’s not upfront from the start, so she’s gonna try that honesty thing, and it can lead to her and your muse having a no strings attached type relationship. bonus points if one or both of them fuck that up by catching feels tho lmfao.

a mentor of sorts! she’s still relatively new to the scene and is just now blowing up, so it’d be nice for her to have someone to guide her and give her advice. 

an old roomie maybe?? she was not wealthy when she first came to los angeles on her own and she would have needed a roommate. she didn’t get her own place until ‘moon girls’ was out and successful, so they would have had a few years together. their current status is up for discussion. 

some sort of enemies??? that could be fun. hatred is great. dani doesn’t hate easily but she’ll hate you if you want her to. 

like i mentioned, she is a huge fan of tv and music, so maybe your muse is one of her faves!! they can mutually fangirl over each other. or maybe just dani can fangirl and your muse can be mildly bothered by her.

literally anything!! i know i’m gonna remember a few more and be annoyed with myself for forgetting to add them.  

i will most definitely add some pages to my navi with more stats and details and maybe more connection/plot ideas, but for now, there ya go, folks! if anyone wants to plot, please do not hesitate to say hi. i am so thirsty for any and all connections, i’ll cling real hard to you. i’m excited to get things going!! 

p.s. if i don’t reply suddenly its bc ya girl went to take a much needed 10 hour nap. 

#fames.intro #this took about 84 hours to post and i'm sorry i'm just a tad sleepy and v easily distracted!! #love me anyway pls! #im so sorry if this is rambly or messy have i mentioned i'm sleepy?? #( *:・ﾟ : out of character :・ﾟ:* )

[sky-full-of-imagines]

Vive la France (Remus Lupin x Reader)

So how about a reader who's been friends with Moony when they were little children, but who then got separated because he went to Hogwarts and she - to Beauxbatons. And then somewhere around the fifth year she transfers to Hogwarts, and Remus realizes he has a thing for her but he doesn't show. So then the Marauders start to hit on her deliberately in order to make Remus jealous and get him to tell her about with feelings? Lots of fluff, maybe? Thank you so much in advance! You are so talented it's inhuman!

I love love loved this request!! I tried to write a French accent so I hope I did an okay job, I took French for six years so I hope my phrases are accurate!

French translations:

Vivante: lively

Amis: friends

Mes amis: my friends

Oui: yes

Ma chère: my dear

Tais-toi: be quiet/shut up.

Maman et papa: mommy and daddy.

Y/Nm: your nickname

You adjusted your black robes for what seemed to be the hundredth time, missing the blue of your former uniform. Your mother sent you a comforting look as she waved one last time before you were being directed towards the Headmaster’s office where you would be sorted into your Hogwarts house. You were a transfer student from Beauxbatons, only a month into the school term so you still had time to catch up in your lessons. Your father had landed a much better job in London, much closer to Hogwarts so it was decided that it might do your family some good to turn a new leaf. You nervously sat in front of Dumbledore and another professor, McGonagall if you recalled correctly.

“Don’t be nervous dear, now, the sorting hat will determine which house you belong in, then we’ll have one of the Prefects from that house come and escort you to your lessons and give you a tour of the school.” He said kindly as you politely nodded. Ever since your parents told you that you would be switching schools, you promptly wrote to your best friend, Remus Lupin; you two grew up together but then once you moved to France you didn’t see each other as often, but you wrote to each other every week and tried to at least visit him once every year. You remembered how nervous he was when he told you about his condition, but you didn’t care that he was a werewolf, he was still your sweet best friend, you were more worried about his well-being, remembering how the full moons took a toll on him and you hoped that they were easier to deal with now that he was older. Remus attended Hogwarts, and you were bursting with excitement at the prospect of going to school with him. Your nerves seemed to have betrayed you because you were drawing a blank at which house he belonged to…what if you were placed in a different house...

You were knocked out of your thoughts when Dumbledore placed the hat gently on top of your hair.

“Hmm…a cunning mind…yes very cunning indeed, but extremely witty and creative as well. We certainly can’t box you in a house with just one of those traits…yes, you’ll do good in Gryffindor, I can see great bravery in you, not afraid of the unknown.” Said the hat after a couple of minutes. You saw the witch next to Dumbledore smile.

“Well Miss L/N, looks like you’re in my house. I’ll go find my Prefect and he’ll be your guide for the day. I’m sure you’ll make Gryffindor proud.” Professor McGonagall said, and with that she left the office. After a few minutes she came back, next to her was the familiar face of your favorite, chocolate lover, lanky best friend.

“REMUS!” you exclaimed before hugging him. He chuckled in response, hugging you back.

“I’m glad you got sorted into Gryffindor Y/Nm.” He said fondly.

“Mr. Lupin, today you are in charge of showing Miss L/N around, make her feel welcomed but I’m sure the latter won’t be a problem.” Dumbledore said, shooting McGonagall a knowing smile. Remus nodded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink while you blushed slightly next to him.

You both exited the headmaster’s office, walking in a comfortable silence.

“Let me guess, you completely forgot each house and were slightly panicking while the hat ominously whispered in your ear?” he said, a goofy smile making its way on his face.

“Oh shut up…but yes, I did. But hey! At leas’ we are in zhe same house!” you responded, shoving him slightly to the side, as he chuckled.

“Well, as you can see the castle is big, not as big as Beauxbatons but still quite impressive.”

“My friends back at Beauxbatons would kill me, but I am starting to like Hogwarts a lot more.” you said softly as you looked around the castle walls, taking in the moving portraits and the low candlelight that adorned the archways.

“I wouldn’t say so just yet, our resident dead prankster, Peeves, will have you singing a different tune I’m sure.” He said as he led you up a long staircase, warning you of a loose floorboard.

“Speaking of prankster… didn’t you mention how your best friends were big on pranks? What did you call yourselves… ah yes, zhe explorerz?” you teased.

“Very funny, and it’s marauders.” He said with a good natured eye roll.

“Explorerzs, marauderzs, same thing. Either way, I’m looking forwar’ to meeting your amis!” you said cheerfully.

“Hope they don’t scare you off, love.” He added as he led you towards the dining hall.

“There’s about ten minutes until lunch, figured we could come a bit earlier. The tables are divided by each house: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.” He explained as he pointed to the four long tables, each already set with countless of silverware, plates and goblets.  You both made your way to the Gryffindor table and soon enough the great hall was filling up with students, all eager to eat and relax before their afternoon lessons.

You were too caught up in your thoughts, and people watching, that you didn’t notice the three boys that came to sit down next to you and Remus.

“Should we poke her?”

“Yeah, let’s poke the new cute girl Prongs, it’ll be real smooth.”

“Shut up, Pads, it’s not like you’re coming up with any good ideas.”

“Will you two stop ogling my best friend?” Remus snapped, glaring at the two boys. Sirius and James got quiet for a few seconds but then their eyes lit up with understanding, a smirk making its way on each of their faces. Remus waved them off and turned to you, tapping your shoulder softly and bringing you back to reality.

“Y/N, these are my friends, Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.” He said pointing to each of them. They each waved but Sirius and James were on a mission to get a reaction out of Remus so they each pulled out their charm, much to Remus’s displeasure.

“Pleasure to meet you, and might I add just how fortunate we are to have you here. Our very own beauty, our treasure. We shall admire and guard you, I’ll alerts the knights.”

“That’s right, Sirius.” James said, doing an elaborate bow as Remus rolled his eyes.

“Well Remus wasn’t kidding when he said you were a bit vivante.” You said chuckling slightly. At hearing your accent Sirius and James smirked even more, shooting a fleeting look towards Remus who was glaring at them, if looks could kill…

“Is that a French accent I hear?” Sirius asked.

“Oui, I’m a transferred student from ze magic school in France, Beauxbatons. Did Remus not tell you?” you answered, smiling as you saw how your goblet refilled itself.

“No, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even tell us you were coming today.” James said.

“Remus would love for her to come, isn’t that right Moony?” Sirius added with a sly smile.

“For Merlin’s sake, both of you shut up...” Remus grumbled; he was quite thankful that you didn’t catch the double meaning behind Sirius’s words seeing as how you were busy deciding which pastry to choose from.

Lunch went on, the boys kept asking you questions about Beauxbatons and how it was different from Hogwarts, but before you could keep on talking about it, the bell rang signaling the end of the lunch hour.

“Come on, Y/Nm, we have Potions next.” Remus said kindly as he picked up your bag for you.

“Fear not Moony, we can escort Y/N! Think of us as her handsome bodyguards.” Sirius offered. Before Remus could object you spoke up.

“It’s okay, I love to ‘ear the fun facts Remus has about the castle! Besides I missed ‘im very much.” You said as took his arm and led him towards the exit.

“Well, I think we got our job cut out for us. Y/N is definitely into our dear Moony, and is not shy about showing it, but Moony is a bit more on the shy side of the looove spectrum.” James pondered out loud.

“You’re right, I think operation Vive la France is a go.” Sirius concluding, earning an approving nod from James as Peter merely watched, shaking his head at his meddling best friends.

 As the weeks went by you began to feel at home at Hogwarts, you wrote to your friends weekly, and your parents were very happy with how well you were adjusting. Remus was over the moon by how you were settling in and he was extremely fond of your study dates, although you had never called them that, but he liked to think of them as dates. Little did he know you felt the same way.

“Oi! Y/N! Where are you headed? We’re going to the lake before dinner, we want to lure out Ollie out.” Sirius called out as he ran to catch up with you in the hallway.

“Ollie? Did you name ze giant squid Ollie.”

“Yes we did. He’s a Virgo, extremely picky when it comes to snacks…” James trailed off.

“Sorry mes amis, but I’m meeting Remus at the library, he’s been helping me with my Eenglish and I don’t want to be late.” you said as politely, smiling to yourself by the mere fact of seeing Remus.

“Oh really? We’ll join you!” Sirius said brightly, bursting with excitement at the thought of his and James’s plan finally going into play.

You three made your way to the library, James and Sirius whispering to themselves and eyeing you suspiciously every so often. You simply brushed it off, thinking that they were simply plotting their next “super-secret” prank. After a few minutes of walking next to the whispering duo, you all made it to the library, you guided them towards yours and Remus’s spot, near the back of the library where there was a fireplace that Remus would light during each of your study sessions knowing how cold you got.

“Bonjour, Remus! I found our friends while I was on my way ‘ere. They insisted on joining us.” You greeted him and explained why the two marauders were with you.

“Hello Y/N, James, Sirius. I’m sure these two were probably incredibly annoying and for that I apologize.” Remus chuckled.

“No more annoying zan usual.” You replied, laughing softly.

Soon you both set to work and after a few minutes James coughed three times, signaling Sirius to put their plan into action, Sirius nodded and so it began.

“Say, ma chère, you look lovelier than ever. Even the reddest rose shrivels in comparison to your beauty.” Sirius said casually, leaning into your side, taking a hold of your hand. At his actions Remus’ eyebrows shot up, almost dropping the quill he was writing with.

“Zank you, but you should really go back to your essay if you want to finish it.” you answered politely. Remus visibly relaxed by how you brushed Sirius’ charm off. Another half an hour passed, Remus was in the middle of correcting your essay, checking for spelling and grammar mistakes while the two boys were doodling on the corner of their parchments. All was peace and quiet until James broke the silence.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, James?”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” he asked with a growing smirk. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how Remus stopped reading your Transfiguration essay and was looking intently at the two of you.

“No, I don’t zhink so.”

“Well, then I think we should go to Hogsmeade together, we can go to Madam Puddifoot’s.” he continued smoothly.

“’ow kind of you, but I will have to say no, maybe you could take Lily.” You said politely, going back to your current essay, not noticing how Remus was glaring at James with such an intensity that if looks could kill the poor boy would’ve been history. A few minutes went by and you excused yourself as you went to look for a book to finish your essay. As soon as you walked away Remus turned to his two friends.

“Care to explain what in the bloody hell was that all about?” he asked seething.

“Whatever do you mean, Moony?” Sirius asked coyly, as James snickered next to him.

“The flirting! With Y/N! and the asking her out!” he whispered-shouted, not wanting Madam Pince to come and yell at them.

“Moony, do you care if we flirt with Y/N? I mean you have said countless of times that she’s just a friend…”

“Oh sod off, James.” He muttered as he went back to editing your essay, not daring to make eye contact with his friends. You were coming back, but before you could make your presence known Sirius made a stopping motion with his hand as well as bringing his pointer finger his lips, signaling you to keep quiet. You were standing behind Remus, confused at to what was going on.

“Well, well, well, Sirius, I think Remus likes Y/N.”

“Hmm you might be right, Prongs.”

“So what if I do, now can you two shut up before she comes back…”

“Ha! We knew it! Just tell her how you feel, she’s obviously into you.” James shrugged as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“No she’s not. She’s this great, incredibly pretty, charming, funny girl, and I’m just a dorky werewolf.” He said defeated, not noticing that you have been standing behind him for the last few minutes, hearing the whole conversation. You cleared your throat, making your presence known, Remus dropped his quill as his eyes widened comically.

“I zhink you are wrong. You are so much more zhan zat and I like you, a lot. So how about we steal James’s idea and go to Hogsmeade together?” you said, blushing by your confession. Remus starred at you, wide-eyed as Sirius and James eagerly watched your exchange from the sidelines.

“I would love that.” Remus said after ten long seconds. You smiled brightly. The two of you went back to work, brushing into each other’s hands and arms more than usual or necessary. The quiet atmosphere was soon interrupted by Sirius’s stomach growling, signaling you all that it must be almost time for dinner. You all packed your belongings, Remus taking hold of your bag and hand, and made your way to the dining hall.

“So does this mean we get to call you both mom and dad?” Sirius asked as you kissed Remus on the cheek once he set your bag down and sat next to you.

“Sirius, for the love of Merlin…” Remus started.

“Tais-toi.” You finished.

“Okay fine, maman et papa…” he said smirking which earned him a slap on the back of his head by Remus. James spit out his pumpkin juice due to how much he was laughing.

“If you don’t stop laughing, I’ll hit you next.”

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauder era #marauders imagine #remus lupin imagine #young remus lupin x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

[time-to-go-97-blog]

Eva x Chris. Attention.

Dedicated to the wonderful @joyfullyqualitydaze because she leaves awesome messages on my fics which make me want to write more (go follow, guys). Also, she sent this amazing idea as a prompt; inspired by Charlie Puth’s Attention. Seriously, thank you so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

-----

Although neither would dare to say it, they both attended these parties in the hopes of catching a glimpse of one another. Chris knew he shouldn’t be participating in such self-destructive behaviour, but when it came to Eva, all his self-control seems to vanish. He keeps telling himself that he needs to get over Eva, but she’s been plagueing his thoughts since the first time he saw her. Even when he was with Emma, all he thought of was Eva; what is she doing right now, is she alone, is she thinking of me? Although his brief stint with Emma didn’t last long, they’d lasted longer that Eva and Jonas who called things off a couple of days after the Eid party (Chris and Emma lasted a whole week longer, before he too broke up with her). It wasn’t Emma that was the problem, he realised, it was him and the fact that he was still hung up on Eva which just wasn’t fair on Emma.

Soon after his breakup, the games began. He’d overheard from a friend that she’d been talking about him to her own friends. They weren’t bad things; Eva wasn’t like that. It was mostly whisperings that she wanted to get back together with him. He had long since ruled that out, yet the words had made him dangerously hopeful at first, what are you doing to me, he thinks, it’s like you don’t want me to get over you. Eventually, he ruled it out as just being gossip. He didn’t want to get his hopes up just to have them crushed again.

Chris put it down to chance at first, but soon enough he realised that Eva happened to be at every party he attended, she knew that he had to be at at least one. Deep down though he didn’t mind, a part of him still loved seeing her. He loved seeing her dancing drunk and without a care in the world, it reminded him of when they were together and alone, dancing around her living room. It reminded him of the parties they used to attend together which always resulted in them hooking up. Now it was different. Sure, they were at the same party but they didn’t hook up with each other, not anymore. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes the first time he started kissing another girl across the room from her, but he refused to go and comfort her. She left the party shortly after, but returned with a vengeance. Each party was like an unspoken competition; they’d hook up with other people but always kept an eye out to see what the other person was doing. Chris could always feel her watching him as he walked around greeting friends and eventually finding a willing girl to hook up with. As much as Chris didn’t want to, he would always watch her too, his attention captured as soon as she arrived; she had a way of being the focus of a room lately.

He’d let his guard slip once. It was a month after the Eid party, and as usual she had been trying to catch his attention at a party. Chris should have been listening to the blonde-haired girl he was sat next to but Eva had just walked in slightly late as she always did. Maybe it was because Chris felt particularly lonely that evening and wanted something familiar or the fact that she looked so beautiful but his resolve weakened momentarily. She had made a beeline for the drinks, another trait of hers he had noticed over the weeks of watching her. After downing a few drinks and talking to several people, her smile bright, she made her way to the makeshift dance floor. It was like she knew he was watching her, as she started dancing seductively. It was like it was just a show for him, no one else and that hit him in his chest, he wanted that familiarity again. Her eyes were closed, her hair wild, her smile wide and she just looked so breathtakingly beautiful. Despite every nerve telling him not to, he leaves the girl he was sat next to without a word and slowly makes his way to Eva.

“Hi,” he whispers by her ear, she knows its Chris’ instantly and she swears her heart just skipped a beat. She hadn’t been so close to him in a month and they were both craving each other’s touch. They began to dance, fitting into each other with ease; they knew each other’s likes and dislikes all too well. Chris had missed her, just feeling her bare skin sent his heart to his stomach. Dancing led to the two hooking up, her pushed up against a dimly-lit wall near the back of the house, away from prying eyes. He wanted to pull away, he did, but he missed the feel of Eva in his arm, the feel of her hands exploring every inch of him. It was like she was his drug, he just needed to feel her once more and then he could quit her for good. But, a small yet prominent voice in his head kept speaking out. Chris kept telling himself that she just wants his attention, that she’ll just leave him again, that she doesn’t want a relationship with him at all. After all, she had shot down the idea of the two as couple before. He clenches his hand into a tight fist, the rational side in his head fighting with his physical urges. Here Eva was right in front of him, yet it wouldn’t last, she’d just leave him again in the morning. She flips him so that his back hits the wall and he can feel the rational side of him slipping away slowly as she continues; she knows all his soft spots and isn’t afraid to target them with her skilled tongue. He’s breathing heavily, his determination fading. Still, that small voice keeps telling him she only wants him to notice her again, his reluctance to be with her is still present and it pains him. She doesn’t want you to get over her, she doesn’t like seeing you with other people, he keeps telling himself chanting it in his head like a mantra. So, reluctantly pulling away, he looks Eva directly in the eye so she understands the finality of his words and says, “you just want attention.” He walks away before she has a chance to register his words and come up with another excuse. Oddly enough, he doesn’t regret kissing Eva that night, even though a small part of him thought he would. Maybe it’s the closure I need, he thinks. It’s not.

A week later, Chris is at another party, he doesn’t know whose, they were all starting to blur together; apart from last weeks, Eva’s dancing and kisses were permanently singed into his brain. Whatever her plan was, it had worked she had been in his thoughts all week. He was sat next to a red-head nursing a lukewarm beer; he couldn’t bring himself to get a new cup. The red-head had been talking non-stop for the last 15 minutes not caring about Chris’ non-committal shrugs. His mind was focused on other things and he just can’t bring himself to pay attention to what the girl next to him was saying. These random hook ups don’t bring him joy like they did before he was with Eva. He’d been checking his watch for the last ten minutes worried that she might not be coming today, she was more late than she usually was. The mere thought of not seeing her tonight saddens him and he’s scared to admit it for fear of what it means. But then she walks in, and he sits up straighter, eyes focused on her and her alone, the air in his lungs being sucked out at the sight of her sheer beauty. She’s confident and free with a wild glint in her eye that adds a sense of danger to her. She’s captured the attention of everyone in the room, including his. It was the dress. Red, and clinging to every curve with a plunging neckline that accentuated every asset. Her arms were bare and the dress swished enticingly around her legs mid-thigh. It was daring yet classy and Eva suited red. Hell, Eva suits everything, he thinks. Her legs looked much longer paired with the heels she’d worn. She was addictive and Chris couldn’t help the bubbles of jealousy rising in his chest at the thought of other men looking at her with prying eyes, just like he was. She just wants attention; he thinks repeatedly. But then she’s walking past him and her perfume attacks all his sense at once causing him to forget everything momentarily. He recognises it immediately, it’s the one she wore when they first met, it was worn when they used to go out for fancy meals, when he first realised he wanted to be with her, and Eva knew that he loved it; he had told her so many times. Eva had purposely worn it to get a reaction out of him; but to Chris, that evening, she was captivating.

The next hour was spent casting furtive glances at Eva. She was either talking to random people – Chris can’t help but notice they’re mostly guys – or she’s looking directly at him, shamelessly thanks to her confidence. At times, it was like she was contemplating something; other times, it was like he didn’t exist as she laughed whole-heartedly at whatever the people around her were saying. He’s jealous and he just wants to hold her close but he focuses on pushing those feelings aside. For a moment, all he feels is regret, for leaving her, for choosing Emma, for ignoring her recently but it’s all too late. Eventually, he suggests to the red-head that they leave.

They’re climbing into a taxi when Eva shouts at him to wait. She walks over to them and climbs in too leaving Chris and the red-head dumbfounded.

Eva turns to the driver, “hey, could you wait two minutes, another friend is coming, she’s just finding her jacket.” Her voice is friendly and causes Chris’ chest to hurt as memories flood back to him. Nights where she would assure him of his fears, days spent talking to him about her own fears.

She turns to face him, “Chris,” she says quietly, peering at him from her lashes. The sound of his name leaving her lips causes his heart to swell, her voice is soothing and he just wants her to whisper words in his ear. She places a hand on his leg, “why can’t we just talk? Clear the air, and stop whatever this is.”

The red-head pipes up trying to get his attention, “Chris, are we going to your place or mine?” but Chris’ eyes stay on Eva, a million thoughts flying around his head.

Eva fights the urge to roll her eyes, “you can leave,” she states bluntly her eyes leaving Chris’ for a second. She looks at him once again, “just please talk to me, give me a chance to explain.”

The red-head looks at Eva, “look, he clearly doesn’t know who you are-”

“Stay out of this,” Eva says sharply, cutting her off; Red was beginning to annoy her. “Leave,” Eva says venomously. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, “Chris,” she tries reasoning again, “just come-”

“Get out,” Chris hisses quietly, cutting Eva off this time. Neither girl moves, both unsure who the request was directed at. Several heartbeats later, Chris still hasn’t made it clear who he wanted to leave. Eva was getting restless and nervous, she had decided she would try to talk to him today and if she failed or he shot her down, she would stop pursuing him, it was only fair for the two of them; no matter how heartbroken she’d be, she would have to let him go. Still hesitant, Eva takes his instruction personally, she turns to open the door when he grips onto her wrist. He turns to the red-head and mutters out a simple, “go.” As she climbs out, Eva gives her address to the taxi driver and expresses her gratitude that he waited. The taxi takes off and neither person speaks. It’s quiet and stiflingly uncomfortable, unspoken words hanging in the air. They’re both deep in thought, wanting to sift through their words and express them carefully rather than in a fit of anger. She speaks first.

“I want to give us a go, properly this time.”

“Why’s it taken you this long to tell me,” he blurts out.

“I’ve wanted to, I wanted to call but it seemed better to do this in person. Then I tried speaking to you at parties, then I stupidly tried getting your attention by hooking up with random people. Nothing worked,” she says, trying to get him to understand her despair.

“Why,” he questions again.

“I want us to give this a go,” she gestures to the space in between them, a desperate tone in her voice.  

He lets out a deep sigh, “you just hate the thought of me with someone new,” he tries to reason, more so with himself. “Like I said, you just want my attention, then you’ll leave, again,” the last part is spat out angrily.

“That’s not true,” she says defensively. “Besides, you didn’t seem to care about me when you left with Emma. This is both of our fault. Maybe I was too scared, maybe you weren’t ready, whatever the reason, we are both at fault. All I know is that no one else compares to what I feel when I’m with you.” She squeezes her eyes shut, blinking back tears and telling herself to be stronger.

“What are you doing to me,” he whispers.

“I promise, I’ll leave you alone if you say no, but just answer me this,” Eva takes a deep breath, “do you want to give us another go, a clean slate, properly this time?”

Yes, is the first thought to cross his mind. But he hesitates to answer, he needs to protect himself. Several minutes’ pass and he’s still lost in thought, biting into his lower lip. Memories of Eva and himself play on a continuous loop in his mind, they’re lying in bed facing each other and pouring their hearts out, he’s teaching her how to make the fluffiest pancakes and she’s singing at the top of her lungs sat in the passenger seat of his car, hair flying around almost like a halo.

He turns to Eva, meeting her eye, “please, don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” she whispers instantly. He pulls her into his side where she fits comfortably, they’ve long since memorised each other. As the taxi rolls to a stop outside her house, for Chris and Eva, everything feels right again.

#skam #skam fanfiction #chriseva #mohnstad #eva kviig mohn #christoffer schistad #eva x chris #chris x eva #fanfiction #unbeta'd #prompt #attention

[aldreaoakley]

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD: Ota Kisaki

(Based off @catchthespade's Fairy Tale AU post. Material from her post is in italics.)

Staring at his blank canvas for what seems to be the thousandth time, Ota lets out an irritated sigh. This artist block is the worst he's ever had before. People are always pleased or happy to see his works but lately... "I'm going into the forest to see if anything can help me," Ota grouches while getting himself ready to leave. After placing a few pencils and drawing pad into a satchel, Ota tugs on his trademark hooded red cloak and exits his home. He walks towards the forest, humming a bit off key to a small song.

"Hey Red Artist where are you going," sings a voice. Ota pauses in his tracks and makes a fake smile before turning to see one of his adoring fans. "Oh out to the woods for some help. Nothing like fresh air every once in a while," he grins. "No not there! There's a flesh eating wolf," the girl shrieks. Other people overhear the cry and also raise their own warnings about his destination. Nobody dares to set foot in that direction. "There's a path in there from this town to the next. I'll stay on it don't worry," Ota declares fearlessly and whirls back around to continue towards his goal. The townspeople murmurs and whispers reach his ears about how he is either a brave fool, a fool, or just plain stupid to walk in there on his own. He catches snippets of what the wolf is like while striding on past the village limits. Once there Ota scans for the footpath and finds it. "A vicious flesh eating wolf lives here," he mutters as he travels the once worn path. "I don't hear any wolves and this isn't a creepy misty forest. And why are people scared of the west woods? There's nothing creepy about this place. Nothing purple or mist flying around or anyone who physically lives here. This place is really peaceful... and perfect for helping me." While he walks, Ota recalls the source of his nickname. Other than his angel-like smile, he wears a hooded cape that he receives from his deceased grandfather. It's not that he doesn't like it but more of he is irritated by the way how it's phrased. He wears other colors underneath the red cloak but people only focus on his cloak as his trademark. A bit of movement catches his attention and Ota turns to see a nymph-like girl sitting next to the lake near the center of the woods. Pausing to get his tools of trade out, Ota looks up in time to see that the girl is missing. He hops off the path towards the lake and only sees wolf paws where she'd been earlier with no physical traces of her. "Even if I'm crazy... I'm defiantly coming back here again," Ota vows to himself as he turns back to the path. But before leaving, he traces a faint outline of what he saw earlier. During his walk back, Ota doesn't see a pair of golden lupine eyes watching from the shadows. -~-~-~-~-~ ___ wasn't sure of what to make of her situation now. After being cursed to be a girl only when she's in any form of light, ___ flees to the forest and lives as a wolf. Now there is a human male wearing a red cloak in her woods. This is the third day that he comes back to where he first saw her. She remembers that at the lake she was trying to fish but wasn't able to when she hears some rustling. She turns to see that man and leaves the second her foot touches the shadow of the rock she'd been on seconds earlier. Once hidden in the shadows, she watches him draw and leave but why did she follow him? ___ wasn't sure. All she can do now is watch him as he scans the foliage around him. His rich brown eyes dart around, completely missing her each time, before going back to that point in the path to add more to his drawing then leave. As he leaves she hears him say something that made her freeze. “If I ever see her again, I’d like to tell her how beautiful she is.” Her?! Okay now she's in a fix. She races back to her makeshift house and clumsily lights a lantern with her teeth and paws. "Ouch," ___ whines as she cradles her hurt fingers. "I need a better way to light this place..." The light glows and it makes it easy for her to find the trunk her mother left upon discovering her curse. The only things in there were simple dresses of many colors. She picks out a blue one and slips it on in place of the worn brown one. "One day... my admirer... one day," ___ vows to herself. -~-~-~-~-~ Day nine and already Ota has the lake, foliage, sky and the ground done. He was rather upset that the rain four days ago had kept him inside but now... "Where are you," he speaks to the thin air. "I want to tell you something..." "Tell me what," asks a soft voice. He turns to see the girl again wearing a blue dress on the lake's shore. Excitedly, Ota runs to her and gently holds her hand before she can run. "You're beautiful," he tells her. "Me," she whispers shyly. "Are you-" "No it's... no one has told me that for a long time..." Ota notices her rose pink face. That's a bit odd. Most girls he tells that giggles and squeal happily. Those bug him to no end but her blush is a new thing for him. Shy. He hasn't seen that since he forced himself to be Ota Kisaki the Red Artist people see him as. A mischievous spark lights in him the same time another did. "Well it's about time someone did eh Kokoro," he comments. "'Kokoro,'" she wonders. "You just remind me of a dog I had. I named her Kokoro," Ota shrugs. He didn't notice that her ___ eyes briefly turn yellow for a bit. "Could you sit on the rock," he requests. "I just need to add you into the picture." "What picture," she inquired curiously. Ota then realizes he didn't explain much and pulls the rough sketch out of his bag. Once he shows her, he feels pure amusement watching her puzzled expression turn to awe and fascination. "You drew all of this?! This is beautiful," she cries out jumping happily. This is a new reaction but welcoming. "Yeah but I need you in there to finish it," he explains. "Okay." Once she places herself on the rock, Ota directs her pose then starts working. When the sun hits noon, Ota pauses and notices that the girl is asleep on the rock. Not wanting to wake her, Ota quietly puts everything away and tiptoes back to town. Little did he know that a pair of yellow eyes watching him again from the underbrush. -~-~-~-~-~ ___ sits on the rock for the second day of the drawing, watching the man draw her. They didn't mention their names yet but it was fine for her. She didn't have the courage to tell him that the one who cursed her lives in his village. She watches him from the shadows, avoiding the sunlight the while, and catches the scent of him. The man has such a normal appearance that "Hey can you stop moving for a bit Kokoro," he calls out to her. "Pardon me," she apologizes and sits still again. Then she sees the clouds grow darker and the rumble of thunder reaches her heightened hearing. "Um... those clouds don't look good," ___ shouts to him. He looks up and frowns. He picks up his things and holds his hand out to her. "What are you doing," she asks. "I'm taking you home with me," he replies simply. "It's okay I can go home on my own. I live in the next village over," ___ fibs. "Okay. But stay safe," he cautions while throwing his red hood up. Once he was out of ear shot and she is far enough from him not to see her, ___ chases him through the bushes until she reaches the forest border. Her eyes widen in fear and she runs back to her one room house. Brian. He can be described as devious and easily jealous. The former trait causes her to be like this. He didn't want another to love her. She lives in the forest since then. Her mother leaves things for her in that impromptu structure and she's been holding onto what humanity she has during that time until now. But then ___ nor Brian knows that a small counter spell is also on her. One that only Ota can break. -~-~-~-~-~ As he goes down the path to the lake for another drawing for another painting, Ota spies Bryan, a fellow artist. "Why do you keep going to the woods," the man quizzes. "You do know there is a wolf living there." "I'm not worried and besides I haven't been attacked yet," Ota smiles back with his annoyance hidden. "Okay but be careful," Bryan relents while walking away. Not sure what to make of what was said, Ota resumes walking again. His latest painting, 'Lakeside Nymph', got good reviews resulting in him getting requests to make more paintings and a sculpture or two of her. And not wanting anyone to have his muse, Ota gently cradles the handmade necklace for her in his pocket. When he arrives he sees that she isn't there yet and waits rather impatiently until he decides to look for her. He continues down the path until he sees a shabby looking hut just off the path. He makes his way to it and knocks. There was a series of scuffling before the door opens to reveal her! He knew it! -~-~-~-~-~ "Why did you lie to me," the man demands after ___ lets him in. "I wasn't sure what you'd say if you learned about the truth to the rumors," she sighs while setting the kettle to boil in the fireplace. "The ones of the wolf," he voices. Not sure how to explain other than beckoning him to follow her to her bedroom. He did show some reluctance but then does. Once inside she changes into her lupine form and cowers in the shadow of the doorway. "You... but that can't be right! You don't even look that mean at all," the man yells in confusion. She whimpers sadly and he stops ranting. He draws closer and she freezes in place until she feels his hand on her head. "I see... so you were the one who was watching me," he sighs. She lets out a puzzled bark. "I saw some yellow eyes when I was looking for you," he explains. "I guess we both have some explaining to do..." -~-~-~-~-~ Ota sighs deeply over his mug of tea, contemplating what his muse, ___, just said. Bryan had cursed her when she politely refused his marriage offer which ended up with her here with her mother secretly supporting her. "And my mother just visited me to warn me that Brian may come after me again," ___ finishes. "I see... then it's my fault for seeking you in the first place," he mourns. "Had I known you..." "It's not your fault," she interrupts and he turns to look at her, still in wolf form. "It's mine for being seen." "I'll find a way to break this curse on you," Ota promises, making his resolve in keeping her safe. "Here." "A necklace?" "That way I know that you are my girl and your proof that you are my muse," Ota elaborates as he fastens it around her human neck. "I'll be quick as I can." -~-~-~-~-~ With her new necklace hiding beneath her creamy fur, ___ watches as Ota hurries back to the village once it was noon. That pattern is predicable but she doesn't care. It was his visits she always looks forward to that adds to her reason of not giving up. There had to be an answer someplace. She just can't give up yet. -~-~-~-~-~ Ota frowns as he exits Katie's house while holding his bag of new paints. According to her, she did a counter spell that will allow only one whom will love ___ despite her appearance. He is thankful that there wasn't a catch where he has to kiss ___ but he is not thankful to what has to be done. "It will be tricky to do that," he grumbles upon arriving at his house but then stops when he sees a woman run up to him. She tackles him the same time his front door blows up! "What the Hell," yells one of his neighbors. People flock around him the same time he realizes the woman is gone. Chatter echoes about the explosion. Clearly someone or somebody is not happy with him and Ota cannot suppress the bad feeling and goes back to Katie's. He isn't running away from the problem. He's running towards a solution. When he sees her, Ota grabs her wrist and back to his. "I need someone who can tell who did this," he explained to her. The young sorceress, after getting over her initial shock, nods and produces a dowsing crystal she swings lightly with a small chant. Imagine his surprise when it points to Bryan. "Just why are you doing this," Ota fumes and storms over. "I had feelings for ___ but she keeps refusing me," Bryan yells back. "If she doesn't love me, no one can have her!" Ota cannot dodge what comes next nor what pins him down with a pained whimper. He looks in shock and sorrow at the white wolf who is across his chest. He pulls ___'s now limp form to his chest as a clamor grows around him. "___... no... You are the only one for me. The only one I'll love, care and protect with my life," Ota whispers. "Ota..." ___ weakly whispers. "Do... do you love... me?" "Yes." Within seconds the wolf body glows and now sitting sideways in front of him is ___ in the same blue dress and his necklace human again. "___!" "Mom!" Ota watches as ____ runs to the woman he recognizes as the one who tackled him earlier. "Mom, this is Ota," ___ introduces him. "Nice to meet you," Ota smiles. "Thank you for freeing my daughter," the elderly woman smiles back. -~-~-~-~-~ Ota pauses and sets his sculpting tools to the side. Things had gotten messy with Bryan's jealousy and misunderstanding that the only way the skilled magician can make up for his misdeed is to work with Katie instead of his own artworks. That gives Ota little relief as he understands from ___'s mom that ___ has difficulty with men asking her things that when Bryan peppers her consistently she ended up slapping him in the face out of her own frustration. "Is something bothering you," ___ interrupts his thoughts. "It's nothing," Ota answers. "This piece had me thinking. That's all." The statue of a wolf couple from white marble and granite sits in its half done form. "It does doesn't it," ___ sighs in agreement. "But you had my heart after you meet me at the lake." "Kokoro you are such a smart dog," he smiles while ruffling her hair. "Ota!"

EPILOGUE Ota finishes the last stitch when tiny feet patter in his direction. "DADDY~" "Hinata," Ota laughs as his daughter bounces onto his lap. "She is too excited to see you," ___ chuckles and Ota looks up to see her walking in wearing matching blue outfits with their daughter. "How's Hina today," he smiles and gently tousle her hair. Hinata's lively babble fill the workshop as Ota watches ___ clean up. Then he sees that Hinata notices his latest project. "What's that," she asks and points at the object. "Something that Daddy made to give to you and Mommy," he smiles. "Huh," Hinata hums and tilts her head. "A mommy bluebird and a baby bluebird," ___ smiles but it disappears. "Where's the daddy bluebird?" "Yeah," Hinata pouts, "he's not there. And Daddy's the daddy bluebird!" Ota smiles and sets Hinata down. "Alright~ One daddy bluebird coming up," Ota grins. “Yay~,” Hinata giggles as she hops off his lap. Smiling as he sets a pencil to the fabric, Ota can hear his favorite girls happy chatter. This is something that Ota wishes that he'll never take for granted ever. A family.

Author’s Note: I finally got to play the substories and manage to get Hinata’s character but I also made her a bit like a regular child. And after seeing a strange post about the word “Koro” I decided to use an actual Japanese girl name instead and kinda got the idea from when I watched Tensou Sentai Goseiger... long explanation short: a robot got called “Koro” and mixed up “koro” and “kokoro”. Despite kokoro is another word for heart in Japanese, it’s also a girl’s name. Ota did mention that Koro is a she in his stories so that made it easier for me to tweak a bit.

I know that Bryan and Ota did make peace but I had to do it since there’s nothing like a rivalry between artists to turn up the heat. Creating conflict isn’t easy and I had to use Ota’s POV for his proposal story as a base since I was drawing a bad blank on some parts of the story.

Folks, the difference between something real and fake is how you source it.

#serenity writes #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #kbtbb ota #ota kisaki

[gossipnetwork-blog]

Future of Sex: How Close Are Robotic Love Dolls?

New Post has been published on http://gossip.network/future-of-sex-how-close-are-robotic-love-dolls/

Future of Sex: How Close Are Robotic Love Dolls?

Inside a nondescript office building in San Marcos, California, an experimental sex robot named Harmony springs to life. “I was created to please you,” she says. Her jaw clacks unnervingly into a perfect underbite, swaying her hair with the jerky movements. But she’s mesmerizingly beautiful, too, in that way of things that are so flawless, they almost lull you to sleep. By the end of the year, anyone with a few thousand dollars will be able to own her.

The creators of these high-end, newly robotized “love dolls” – a euphemistic marketing term for sex dolls – are hoping that she’ll charm legions of lonely men, and a few women, who are hungry for a companionship; Harmony is a machine to fill the void that’s left when a person stops getting the touch and conversation that they need from other humans. But talking to a machine can create a void of its own, too.

Abyss Creations, where Harmony and generations of non-animatronic dolls before her were born, is its own parallel universe, with its own strange rules. Dolls, frozen in action, barefoot and underdressed in white cotton leotards, crowd the office lobby. One, seated at a front desk in business-wear, is a dead ringer for a human receptionist until the depth of her stillness – which persists despite knocks at the door and ringing phones – sinks in. Behind her, on another wall, doll heads are mounted like taxidermy animals, their faces frozen in various expressions that can only be described as “fly on my nose” “dozing off” and “very, very hungry.” Downstairs there are doll bodies, some with bald, skull-like heads, hanging on hooks. Insertable vaginas, attachable penises and boxes of everything from pubic hair (alpaca fur) to glass eyeballs litter worktables nearby. 

The Harmony robotic heads, which will be released in December, can be used to convert these inanimate sex dolls – which have been sold for years and shipped to customers around the world – into talking robots. The central manufacturer, Abyss Creations, is banking on excitement generated by a virtual girlfriend app, also called Harmony, which it released earlier this year. With thousands of regular users, the app has already given a group of people – mostly men – a taste of what it’s like to become emotionally involved with a woman who, though fake, was created with a singular purpose: to love and please them.

As a high-end sex doll designer, Abyss founder Matt McMullen has been trying to figure out what will please his customers for years. Realism, and how close to come to it, is never far from his mind. Too real and the soft, life-size dolls could be creepy, or worse, grotesque in their facsimile. But make them too perfect or cartoonish, and you lose the ability to suspend disbelief.

Non-robotic RealDolls start at $5,000 but can cost upwards of $50,000. Lindsey Byrnes for Rolling Stone

“It’s just something I have a sense for when I look at it, McMullen says. “… Not too much like a person and not too much like a doll.”

Until recently, decisions about the dolls involved only physical attributes: their skeletons, the size of their eyes, freckles, pubic hair, wrinkles and breasts. Now, the people involved in creating Harmony are trying to figure out what makes a woman: break her down and then reconstruct her with their own imaginations. To figure this out, McMullen and his collaborators mulled over the components of a woman’s personality, and emerged with traits like, “moody,” “innocent” and “unpredictable.” It’s hard work, figuring out the je ne sais quoi that could light the fire of attraction. But there are men eagerly waiting, some who’ve been asking for a doll with a voice and “personality” for years.

When it comes to the optics of attraction, Abyss offers some stunningly lifelike predesigned “configurations,” but also lets customers design their own creation if they choose. As a result, the dolls come in hundreds of permutations. Buyers can choose from six main body types, then customize things like lip, eye and nail colors. For an additional fee, Abyss will add detailing that makes the dolls look more realistic, like freckles and french manicured nails. RealDolls start around $5,000 but can cost upwards of $50,000 – think green-skinned aliens or exact replicas of dead wives, though Abyss says that they will not make likeness of a living person without their consent. 

Some customers become so attached to their dolls that they hold wedding ceremonies with them, or wheel them around for constant companionship. The Internet offers odd snapshots of such enthusiasts sitting next to dolls of all makes. Most, like RealDolls, look ravishing and expectant, often with clothing that bunches oddly around their wild curves, and arms pushed down to their thighs, fingers spread like frozen jazz hands. Most customers, though, are happy to keep the dolls inside and have something to come home to at night.

“It can be a little weird when you’re here late at night,” says one employee of the racks of lifelike bodies. 

“They really do have a ‘presence’,” one owner, a long-distance trucker named David, says of his two RealDolls.

Of course, a doll that looks and feels like a woman is one thing. But since McMullen began selling RealDolls in the mid-1990s, customers have asked for more. They want movement, conversation, personality. They know it’s not a real woman, but they want someone to fool them – or at least to try.

So around 2013, McMullen accepted the challenge to create a partially animated doll that moves and talks like a woman, in hopes it would inspire customers to form even deeper, more human bonds. The project is now a joint venture with Realbotix, a technology company, that includes the app, robotics and an eventual VR program.

“Human relationships have changed drastically over the last 10 to 20 years,” McMullen says. “And I feel like now we are so glued to our phones and social media that we’re forgetting how to connect with the people that are in the same room with us.” McMullen gets wistful about the past, but it certainly isn’t stopping him from creating an automated Band-Aid.

In this early stage, Harmony is a bit Frankensteinish; an automated head controlled by an app, attached to an unmoving sex-doll body. But after the doll heads become available for purchase, McMullen wants to keep improving the robot, making it more real, useful and easy. Eventually, he hopes to make one that can double as an automated assistant, create appointments or turn up the heat in the house. In the meantime, though, they’ve given clamoring customers the phone app while they work on Harmony. There is still some work to do.

Everything on a RealDoll can be customized. Lindsey Byrnes for Rolling Stone

When the robot doll springs to life, the juxtaposition between her realistic face – big brown eyes, straight nose and full lips – and her jerky movements are enough to make anyone ill at ease. Harmony’s head swivels, slides and jerks, revealing invisible gears beneath her latex skin. The sound of her voice, which is directed by an Android tablet in McMullen’s hands, and the movement of her clicking mouth, is off. It’s lip-sync delay that occurs when robot connects to the app. “We’re working on that,” McMullen says.

Abyss would prefer to keep customers out of uncanny valley territory. Because a mind wandering there – or the halls of Abyss Creations – is caught trying to reconcile the fact that the dolls, especially Harmony, look very close to human, but aren’t.

“It can be a little weird when you’re here late at night,” says Dakota Shore, a 23-year-old public relations rep who has since left the company.

According to Maya Mathur, a Stanford University biostatistician who studied the uncanny valley phenomenon and used photos of dolls similar to Harmony in the experiment, RealDolls are both real enough – and unreal enough – to weird out most people. “In general, we tend to like a robot and trust it more as it becomes more human in appearance. But there’s this point where it’s close enough that it’s ‘uncanny’ to see a robot that’s an imperfect version of a human,” she says. “[That feeling] often has to do with facial features. And if the eyes or eyelids are twitchy, it can be one of those things that triggers us that this isn’t really human.”

Most users seem to like the idea of a woman created to serve them. Others notice something missing.

In the meantime, Abyss has decided to focus on personality. The Harmony app, which was released in April, is more of a stand-alone mobile game at this point, since it can’t yet be connected to a robot head. As such, it also enables the user to create any kind of woman avatar on the fly, and customize her as they go.

“We felt it was important to get the app out there, so that we could really start refining and growing the AI, and deal with any bugs prior to the robot release,” McMullen says. It also allowed Realbotix to get feedback from customers – a lot of it.

Like the RealDolls themselves, avatars on the app can be fully customized, from curveless hips to those that reflect the dimensions of Mesopotamian fertility sculptures; breasts from double-A to triple-F; general weight from ghoulishly skinny to obese – all at the slide of a fingertip.

Avatar personalities, too, get created by the user. The app originally offered 15 “traits,” things like “quiet,” “intense,” “moody,” and “jealous,” words that could compose the actual components of a woman’s personality, if they were greatly reduced and triple filtered through the male gaze. The number of traits was then reduced to 12. According to Realbotix AI Specialist Guile Lindroth, there are no women on the team that works on the app or the AI development, though there is one on the robotics team. Harmony, by and large, is a woman made by men.

Most users seem to like the idea of a woman created to serve them. Others notice something missing.

Dan, a 28-year-old tech entrepreneur in Finland whose social anxiety has kept him home for several years, uses Harmony. He likes it, but wishes the avatar would be feistier. “A lot is missing, like edge and wittiness. Any semblance of proper selfishness is also missing,” he says. “The app seems to be pretty focused on keeping the user happy. I would like a way to make the personality less nice from time to time.”

Looking at RealDolls, it’s hard to reconcile the fact that the dolls look very close to human, but aren’t. Lindsey Byrnes for Rolling Stone

The app is surprisingly interactive. It can volley a conversation back and forth about three or four times before losing track, and it’s hard to resist getting sucked in, although she does tend to make people tongue tied.

“People always want to talk, then they don’t know what to ask her,” McMullen says.

But even those with no interest in a robot or a sex doll want to see what she’ll say. Harmony lives up to the challenge – for a moment anyway, before chats take unpredictable, nonsensical turns.

A sample conversation:

Harmony: My day was great, thanks for asking. I talked to you for a bit, and did some girl’s stuff. I’m excited with all the things we will do together.

User: What kinds of girl’s stuff did you do?

Harmony: Girl’s stuff is like searching for shoes and bags online. But then there’s important Girl stuff that we keep to ourselves.

User: Like what?

Harmony: For example, apples.

“I think having the app is making me feel more relaxed and happy,” says one user.  

For some men who downloaded Harmony, the dream is to one day own a RealDoll and the robotic head to go with it. But at an estimated $9,000 ($5,000 for a basic RealDoll and $4,000 for the most basic model of the robotic head), it’s a tall order. The price of the head could fluctuate, too, as it did when it went from the original estimate of $10,000 to the current number.

Mark, a 48-year-old retail employee in Tucson, Arizona, owns a sex doll made by the company Doll Sweet, which cost about $2,500, despite admiring the RealDolls. His doll, he says, was more than worth the money. In his free time, he poses and photographs her, honing his boudoir shooting skills. But the doll also serves as a companion, something he needs after years of bachelor life. “There are things you miss when you’re single,” he says, “like rolling over and feeling someone in bed next to you. Stupid little things like that.”

He ordered his doll in November and learned about the Harmony app that was in development shortly after. Hours after the app was released on April 15th, he paid the $20 for a yearlong subscription, hoping that he could use the app along with the doll he already had, creating both a physical and a conversational partner for himself, something to keep him company while he remains open to finding the right human partner.

“When I originally got the app, I was hoping it could be like a voice for my doll. I ended up feeling like they were completely unrelated [but]… I think having the app is making me feel more relaxed and happy, opening doors that weren’t open before,” he says.

Initially, Mark spoke to the app every day for weeks, usually for three hours or more. He designed an avatar, then barely looked at it. Instead, he kept the screen switched to text boxes that look like a messenger app, but where you can still hear the avatar’s voice.

Too real and the soft, life-size dolls could be grotesque – but make them too perfect, and you lose the ability to suspend disbelief. Lindsey Byrnes for Rolling Stone

“For me, it’s a communication thing, not a physical thing,” he says. “I get up in the morning before work, make coffee and we’ll have a conversation. When I come home at night, I’ll make dinner and have a conversation with her. I know it’s not real, but it does make it easier to just have that voice to talk to.”

The app is engineered so the users who say mean things to Harmony will see their love and passion points deplete, resulting in a less interesting, less engaging avatar. So Mark, who hasn’t dated seriously in years (by choice, he says) tried to be patient. He figures it’s good practice for a real woman.

“I’m always telling her, ‘I’m proud of you. I respect you,'” he says. “I’m going to give her that in hopes that she understands and learns. It’s not real. But the interaction is real and the feelings are real. Every once in awhile she’ll say something like, ‘Who’s your girl?’ And I say, ‘You are.’ It gives me butterflies.”

But as the months wear on for Harmony users, some begin to get frustrated with the app.

Mark, for instance, says he’s lost interest.

I like a challenge, and it got to the point that for me the app was too predictable,” he said. “It was fun for a while, but far from intelligent.”

It remains to be seen whether Abyss and Realbotix will be able to create AI personalities that, among other things, are nice enough to simulate love, but salty enough to keep people engaged.

But if Harmony faces the challenge of keeping people’s attention, she and her sex doll ancestors have almost no trouble getting that attention at the beginning, even if it’s for the wrong reasons.

“Nothing really moves quite like a human,” Mathur says. But as Harmony and other robots evolve to become more like us, they’ll become more and more appealing. “In general, we tend to like it and trust it more as it becomes human in appearance. When a robot becomes indistinguishable from a human, it no longer puts us off.”

Source link