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hoes4hoseok · 1 year

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how you get the girl part ii: heeseung’s advice on keeping dry in a storm

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your neighbor, heeseung, gets on your nerves. he’s full of himself, makes more noise than all of your neighbors combined in the middle of the night, spreads anti-superhero propaganda in your political science class, and, unfortunately, is the most attractive man you have ever laid eyes on.

pairing :: lee heeseung x fem!reader featuring :: jake sim, jeon somi, kim sunoo, and more! genres/au’s :: superhero au, neighbors to lovers, enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, angst if you squint, nightwing!heeseung chapter warnings :: mentions of and references to sex, minor violence, suggestive chapter word count :: 6.1k tag list :: @thejjrl @grace1852 @tsunchani @hanniiesuckle17 @mjr4fnaf1997 @goldenhypen @3nh4luvr @hobistigma @ditzie-s @nomy0520 @foreshadxw @koroktsuya @beansworldsstuff author’s note :: prior knowledge of nightwing and DC comics is not necessary to read this work! also ty to @lethekoo for all your help :) playlist :: here’s to you but in this chapter you should listen to umbrella by rihanna and jay-z at the end hehe

two of the plot points in this chapter are heavily based on smallville. the episodes are called 'devoted' 4x04 and 'exposed' 5x06. check them out if you haven't! I love that show so much <3 also! i hope y'all enjoy the little batgirl and starfire references :) && please let me know what you think if you have the time! it really helps me improve and motivates me to continue <3

2. Reliability A woman wants someone who shows up.

THE NEXT DAY…

“He didn’t get away, did he?” Jake asked, spitting his toothpaste into the sink.

“Nope. I got him,” Heeseung replied, sitting on Jake’s bed as his friend got ready. “He took a vial from the chemistry professor’s lab, but I’m not sure what it is. I’ll take a look at the sample later,”

Heeseung had come over to Jake’s place as soon as he woke up—which was 11 AM.

“Then…what is this meeting for?” Jake wiped his face with a look of skepticism, “you said it was urgent, right?”

“I told Y/n that I have a girlfriend,” Heeseung started, “but, obviously, I don’t,”

“So?” Jake shrugged. “You lie to people all the time,”

“Well, I think I need to stop the fake sex thing,” Heeseung added, “she can’t sleep because of it and it’s messing up her life,”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows. “Okay…what do you wanna do instead?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “maybe I’ll make a tape of me singing. Or dancing. That’s loud, right?”

“I thought the whole point was to make it quieter,” Jake reminded him, now sitting on a chair across from his bed, “do you have something to tell me? Did the informal debate really rattle you?”

“No, I feel guilty,” Heeseung groaned, leaning toward his friend. “Last night, I saw her walking around Halyard Street alone and the guy who broke into Lori Lab pushed her out of his way. If I hadn’t been there, she would’ve fallen face-first into the street! But the only reason she was out there in the first place is that I was ‘having sex’ with a girl who I haven’t seen in months!”

Jake was at a loss for words. He had gotten used to Heeseung’s wild stories, but this one was unlike any other he had been told.

“Okay…” he started, “so…stop faking the sex thing. Yeah, sounds good,”

“What if,” Heeseung’s eyes lit up, “what if you moved in with me? Then, if she ever knocks, you can come up with an excuse for me!”

“No. I will not,” Jake shut down the idea instantly, “you’re a terrible roommate. I know you’re still getting over your last girlfriend, but you’ll be sleeping around again soon enough. Dealing with the walks of shame and the Nightwing shenanigans? Count me out,”

“Fine,” Heeseung huffed, “I could also move out and find a new place. The frat bros won’t mind the noise or doubt its authenticity!”

“You’re not moving out, Heeseung,” Jake rolled his eyes, “just tell her ‘sorry’ and stop the sex. She’s not going to break into your apartment in the middle of the night, she’ll assume you’re asleep, like a normal human being!”

Heeseung paused for a moment to contemplate before nodding, “you’re right. I’m being irrational,”

“Thank goodness,” Jake breathed a sigh of relief, “Y/n has consumed way too much of your time. She’s all you ever talk about,”

“Yeah,” Heeseung agreed, snapping out of his momentarily caring nature, “she’s just always got the snarkiest comments about me—she’s kind of a slut shamer,”

“No, she’s a ‘slut that doesn’t let me get a wink of sleep’ shamer,” Jake corrected the older boy, “it’s basically the only thing you guys fight about,”

“It is the only thing we fight about,” Heeseung reiterated as he stood up from the bed, “looks like I need to break up with my ex-girlfriend,”

So…how does one apologize to their neighbor for being inconsiderate and also putting them in danger without completely compromising their secret identity? Easy! Don’t. Just hope that the wound will heal on its own.

The Scoop’s bullpen was always bustling from sun up to sun down, which was why Somi and Y/n typically liked to work on their side projects at night. It was more private and peaceful that way, especially since they didn’t have families awaiting their return. Yet…they were here at noon on a day with heavy rain—it was not pretty.

“Ugh, we’ve been at this for two hours,” Y/n groaned, her head resting on the desk before her, “every single lead has given us a dead end!”

“We’re close. I can feel it,” Somi insisted. “If our theory is correct and the guy who was chasing you is the same one who robbed your professor’s Lab, chances are we can figure out what he stole using these old articles,”

Somi, after learning about Y/n’s run-in with the boy in blue, had dragged her to the Scoop so that they could work on identifying the man who pushed her—with any luck, it could connect to their own puzzle. Regardless, it would help debunk the ridiculous ‘Crime Rates Soar Upon 2021 Arrival of Nightwing’ article.

“I know, it’s just that the university section is kind of…bland,” Y/n reasoned, “not to mention the fact that my hand is cramping from all the notes we’re taking,”

“Sorry,” Somi moved her head from behind her computer to give her friend a sympathetic look. “No one has brought in a new printer yet and resources are kind of scarce on our floor,”

“They haven’t taken out the old one, either. This piece of junk is still here!” Y/n added, striking the side of the printer with her palm.

Unexpectedly, the familiar mechanical whirring of the printer began once again. Damn, she should’ve tried that five notebook pages earlier.

“Yes!” Somi exclaimed in happiness, rushing over to Y/n’s side of the desk. “You beautiful genius, thank you!”

“No problem,” Y/n laughed, looking over at the machine beside her. “Although…I don’t think I fixed it,” It had begun to print something, they just didn’t know what.

“Oh,” Somi frowned, picking up the first page, which had a large, loopy, and uppercase ‘a’ in the middle of it. “Whoever printed this made the font size way too big,”

“Yeah, and they must have been the first to do it after it stopped working,” Y/n took the paper from Somi’s hand, “I’ve seen this font before,”

“Where?” Somi asked, picking the sheets up as the printer continued to produce more papers. “In real life, or online?”

“No idea. It just looks familiar,” she answered, peeking over to look at the freshly printed pages. “Are they all different letters?”

“Yeah,” Somi replied, “A, E, K, V, U, and N. A is the only uppercase one so far,”

“Wait!” Y/n grabbed the newest sheet, “Our first number!”

After the printer stopped running, Somi scrawled the complete set of letters and numbers onto Y/n’s notebook.

A e k v u n 2 2 5 k 7 u S e 6 n

“We have to unscramble it, right?” Somi asked. “What else could this be for?”

“You’re right, it’s gotta be a message,” Y/n nodded, scanning the large room of busy reporters. “Who do you think it was meant for, though?”

“Mr. Kim, maybe?” Somi began, uncertainty in her voice, “it does seem unlikely though. Why send a message to Mr. Kim through a printer on the first floor?”

“It could also just be a printing error,” Y/n reasoned, “it was broken until a few minutes ago, after all,”

“Nope. What kind of printing error would give us this result?” Somi shook her head, sitting on the floor next to her friend’s chair with a look of determination. “Let’s unscramble it first and ask questions later—a story is a story!”

“I have…save, snake, sunk, skunk, ask, and suave,” Y/n read from her list of unscrambled words, “What did you come up with?”

After seven and a half minutes of silence, Y/n and Somi had collectively come up with 13 words starting with A or S from the letters they were given. Well, minus the repeats. So, more accurately, 11.

“Anus, sank, sane, suave, avenues, seven, and save,” Somi read, tapping her pen against the table.

“Avenue!” Y/n exclaimed in realization, “it’s an address!”

“You’re right!” Somi gasped, “Skunk Avenue!”

Skunk Avenue was quite possibly the most rundown street in Bludhaven. It consisted of abandoned buildings left and right, with a couple of bars and motels in the mix.

“Well, luckily, there should only be a few options that our address could be,” Somi stood up in anticipation, pulling up a chair to join Y/n at her desk. “Could you pull it up online?”

“Sure,” Y/n replied, typing away at her keyboard. “It looks like most of the addresses start with ‘two-two’, so we only have to worry about five, seven, and six,”

“Okay,” Somi took to her notebook once again, writing the possible combinations on the page before her. “22567…22576…”

Y/n shook her head as she scanned the map.

“22756…22765…” Somi continued, “22657…and 22675”

“Bingo,” Y/n grinned, “22657 and 22675 both are real addresses on Skunk Street. Check it out,”

Y/n had pulled up images of both addresses—the first depicted a run-down building with broken windows and a neon sign which read ‘MOTEL 8: HOURLY PAYMENT’.

“Well…that’s questionable enough to be our place,” Somi began, her brows furrowed in focus, “let’s see the other,”

The second image showed a modest gray structure, but it was the name printed below the picture that caught the women’s attention.

‘The Four-Leaf Clover Club’

“Also sketchy…” Somi thought aloud. “We should strike both addresses, for sure,”

“Oh, oh!” Y/n gasped, gathering a few glares from around the room. “I just remembered where I’ve seen the printed font! It was one of my textbooks! Fuck, which one was it?!”

“Political science? Writing?” Somi listed her courses, “Environmental ethics?”

“Nope,” Y/n shook her head, dragging her bag over to pull out a large textbook, “It was biochemistry,”

“Biochemistry?” Somi repeated. “As in the professor who was robbed last night?”

“Yup,” Y/n skipped through the pages, “here. The same font as the puzzle,”

‘Phenylethylamine: The Love Drug’

“That’s great, but wouldn’t every section have the title in the same font?”

“Nope,” Y/n countered, now smiling from pride, “Every chapter has a theme—that’s why this one is all fancy,”

Somi held her hand up for a high-five, “So, we got the answer to today’s question after all. Phenylethylamine was stolen from the lab last night, and, for some reason, someone wants ‘us’ to think it’s linked to the club or the motel,”

“Exactly,” Y/n stood up from her seat in excitement, “get your umbrella, let’s go!”

Despite the fact that they had, in fact, brought an umbrella, Somi and Y/n wound up drenched within an hour.

The motel was a dead-end. It was empty (unless you count a few rats seeking shelter), cold, and Y/n could have sworn they were being watched. Somi wanted to stay a little longer in case something came up or they found a clue, but Y/n insisted it would be easier when it was dry. Luckily, Somi agreed. So, they headed home to recharge before checking out the club.

“Y/n? Hi,” Y/n jerked her head up at the familiar voice as she headed up the stairs to her apartment.

Oh. Heeseung. Typically, there was always something, or some noise, that reminded her of the boy next door—but for the longest time since he moved in, Y/n had forgotten about him (or so she thought).

Naturally, for Heeseung, the opposite was true.

“Hi, Heeseung,” Y/n gave a nod of acknowledgment as she continued.

“You look wet,” Heeseung frowned from his doorstep as Y/n arrived at the landing, “and cold…what were you doing out in the storm without a raincoat?”

“Reporter stuff,” she dismissed him. (I don’t blame her. I’d be eager to get back into dry clothes too.)

“Okay,” Heeseung muttered, sensing her cold attitude. As much as he disliked it, he couldn’t blame her. “Well…I just bought an extra coffee for Jake, but it seems like he’s not going to make it. It’s yours if you want it,”

“No thanks, I only drink decaf,” she replied, unlocking the door to her apartment. That’s right, Y/n. Don’t get closer.

“Perfect. It’s decaf,” Heeseung smiled, backing into his room to retrieve the cup.

“Oh…thanks,” Y/n tilted her head in surprise as she approached him, a smirk forming on her lips, “but how do I know you didn’t poison it?”

Heeseung hummed, leaning against the doorframe before taking a large sip of the coffee. “Mmm. The best,”

“Thank you, Heeseung,” Y/n smiled, grabbing the cup from the man’s grip, their fingers touching momentarily. “I’ll see you on Monday. Or before that, if you decide to be a dick out of nowhere,”

Oh, they’d see each other before Monday, alright.

Heeseung let out a partly suppressed laugh as he swung his door shut, “yeah, see you around,”

That man had infectious laughter. It made Y/n weak. ‘He’s a dick, Y/n. He’s a dick,’ she repeated to herself, heading back towards her door.

“Huh…that’s odd,” she whispered to herself, staring at the cup as she entered her room.

Brenda’s Cafe Start your day with a smile! decaf coffee two sugars two creamers

“Looks like Jake and I have the same coffee order,” she smiled to herself, reveling in the uncanny coincidence before taking a large sip of coffee.

“I’m outside, Y/n,”

“Alright, I’ll be out in just a minute,” Y/n replied to her friend, juggling her phone, lipstick, and bag, “stay dry!”

It had taken Y/n an absurd amount of time to get ready. Sure, she was only going to a club, but she had been otherwise occupied since getting an internship at the Scoop last summer. She was a little rusty, to say the least.

“Dress hot,” had been Somi’s only instruction, so she opted for a tight blue dress.

As she looked in the mirror one last time before heading out the door, Y/n took a deep breath and grabbed her raincoat from its hook. After all, Heeseung was right—they’re much more effective in storms than umbrellas.

When Y/n finally reached the ground floor, Somi was standing alone on her phone, a yellow writing pad sticking out of her purse. After noticing that her friend had joined her, she looked up with a grin.

“You look smoking hot,” Somi looked Y/n up and down, gesturing to the glitter and barrette on her head. “I love the hair!”

“Thank you,” Y/n smiled, nudging the blonde, “no hotter than you,”

Somi wore a silver sequined dress and platform boots, making her tower above the other people in the lobby. “Thanks—as much as I’d love to exchange compliments all night, we have somewhere to be,” Somi tilted her head in the direction of the door, “let’s go,”

For some reason, Y/n and Somi had not anticipated being turned away at the door. They probably should have.

“Come on, our friend’s already in there!” Y/n reasoned with the large man before her, “Please?”

“Yeah, it’s her only night in town,” Somi added, impressed with Y/n’s improvisation.

“Sorry, ladies. Private club,” he stood up even straighter than he already was, crossing his arms as if he was guarding the gates of hell. This guy wasn’t going to budge. He probably got paid too much to accept flirting as bribery, either. Somi recognized this fairly quickly.

And so, they walked away. “Alright we need to get in there one way or another,” Somi rubbed her hands together. It wasn’t clear whether she was excited or just cold, but I figure it was both.

“Well…” Y/n gestured to the area behind Somi, where two women stood. One wore a short, colorful peacock costume while the other wore a bedazzled cowboy getup with denim shorts. “...there’s always that option,”

Somi glanced behind her for a moment before turning back toward her friend once again. “Oh my god, you’re right. Our one pole dancing class from three months ago is finally gonna pay off! Lead the way,”

“Okay…first of all, of course, I am…but second of all, there is no way I’m ready to pretend to be a stripper right now,” Y/n shook her head violently, “I need at least three to five business days' notice to build that kind of confidence,”

“Look, if you really don’t want to, I’m not going to force you,” Somi explained, placing her hand on Y/n’s shoulder. “But I’d be right behind you the whole time, cheering you on and/or watching your back. Depends on what you’re scared of. And you’d get to be a really sexy firefighter for a night,”

Y/n paused for a moment of contemplation. Sure, she was scared. But…after all, they do say “if you’re scared to do it, do it scared”, right? And she truly believed that Somi would be there for her. So, what the hell?

“Fine. I’ll do it for the story,” Y/n took the beaming blonde by her arm, “Let’s get in there before I change my mind,”

The dressing room was filled with various leopards in corsets and pilots in garters walking past the imposters, who stood frozen by the door. Y/n felt her chest tighten at the thought of wearing one of their outfits onstage for a crowd of droolers. Do it scared, do it scared, do it scared.

“I probably should’ve asked you this before pulling you into the dressing room, but what is our cover story?” she muttered under her breath.

“Just follow my lead,” Somi whispered back, guiding Y/n to the costume racks in the back row, “now act natural,”

Somi started rifling through the outfits on the rack: a way too patriotic stars and stripes set, various animals, a sexy leprechaun costume (definitely hopefully a seasonal pick)—the options were plentiful.

“This one will do tonight,” Somi spoke loudly, clearing her throat, “I wore the leprechaun look last night, after all,”

Y/n resisted the urge to laugh as Somi picked a black latex outfit off the rack, “Alright…I’ll take…” Y/n’s eyes scanned the options.

“Look, I’m gonna take this to ‘change’ while I check out that office. I’ll bet it has the info we need—”

“Hey, you two,” A deep voice boomed from across the room, immediately ensuing panic in Y/n’s head, “I take it you’re the replacements Rocko sent over?”

Wow did they get lucky…

Somi turned to face the blonde man as he approached, “Yup,” she started, eyes wide. While Somi being nervous isn’t something Y/n witnessed often, it was fairly easy to detect.

“Great,” the man nodded, pulling a list from his suit jacket’s pocket. “I have you two booked an hour from now, though…” He looked up from his paper, awaiting an explanation.

Y/n shook her head, glancing at the clock. 8:51. “I don’t know about that. Rocko told me my slot was at 9 PM,”

“Yeah, mine is at 9:10 PM,” Somi added, “there must have been a mistake somewhere,”

“Well, I’ll give Rocko a call—”

“No!” the women exclaimed in panic.

The man furrowed his eyebrows, glancing between the two. “Sorry?”

“It’s just that we don’t want him to be mad,” Somi clarified, “…in case it’s our fault,”

“We’re willing to go in an hour, the slots you had us down for,” Y/n continued, “we don’t want to cause any problems,”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll take care of it,” He gave Y/n a tight-lipped smile, “better get ready—you’re on in eight minutes. Your outfits are marked on the rack,”

Somi breathed a sigh of relief as the suited man walked away. “Alright…new plan. After we get dressed, I’ll take a peek in the office while you’re on stage,”

“I hate that plan,” Y/n retorted, her breath quickening. “but I did volunteer myself for it, you have the more stressful job, and I think my adrenaline will compensate for the fear,”

“Great,” Somi nodded, the same determined look on her face from at the Scoop, “Let’s strip,”

The outfit was on. Y/n was getting used to walking in seven-inch heels from all the pacing she was doing. It was now 8:58 PM. Y/n had come to peace with what she was about to do—how? She realized what the best way to handle the stress was—pretending she was a stripper.

So, she pulled on her deep purple get-up, smeared some more lipstick on her lips, and took some deep breaths. She could do it. No problem. Easily. Hopefully. Maybe.

As she walked up to the black steps in her impossibly high heels, Y/n could finally see the stage. There were three poles on it, but only one was being used—clearly, this was going to be a focused show. Lucky her. The final minute felt faster than the ones before it. Time flies when you’re having fun, right?

Before she knew it, it was 9 PM and the familiar beat of Umbrella by Rihanna and JAY-Z had started playing. That’s her cue!

Y/n felt her body take control as she ascended the steps. One foot in front of the other (at least that’s what she assumed).

“Now, give a warm welcome to…Violet Cherry!”

Y/n felt the stares of the crowd following her every movement as she walked to the center of the stage, where the pole was mounted.

She started by slowly unbuttoning the shirt she had on over her corset as JAY-Z’s verse began, reminding herself that this was her job and that she did this every day—she took that whole ‘pretending she was a stripper’ thing very seriously.

Stripping was awkward. She knew it would be. Y/n wasn’t completely sure how to take off her shirt and skirt in a way that would appeal to the whole crowd, but she pulled it off (haha get it) pretty well. It didn’t feel that way, but that didn’t make it untrue.

And then it started getting easier. Y/n had only learned two things in her first pole dancing class with Somi, but she juiced the hell out of those two things. By the time the chorus began, she was feeling fairly comfortable onstage. She spun, she posed, she twirled, and she posed again—it was a pretty solid routine for a woman who had an hour and a half of experience.

As the bridge began, Y/n held onto the pole with both arms behind her before sliding down into a squat, when she looked straight into the crowd. While the move was a nice addition to the routine, it was a terrible decision.

There, staring right back into Y/n’s petrified eyes like a deer in headlights, was a much more petrified Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung was not a man who went to strip clubs often. He had a couple of times, for friends’ birthdays or missions, but he never went just for recreation. He did not think a strip club was the best chance he was going to get at finding the lab thief’s boss—his classic waiting and watching usually does the trick, after all.

Jake disagreed—and unfortunately, he was right. He had to be inside to hear the secrets. Thus, he went. Lucky for him, his platinum credit card was all he needed to show them to enter—they let him right in. Honestly, Somi chose the wrong resident of Safehaven Apartments to befriend.

After Heeseung gave his name to the bouncer, he was seated immediately in what they called “the best seat in the house”.

“Hi, welcome to the Four-Leaf Clover Club!” His waitress greeted him warmly, removing the pencil from behind her ear, “What can I get for you?”

“Just water,” he dismissed the woman with a smile. He doesn’t drink on the job, he isn’t an idiot. “I’ve gotta drive home,”

“Sure, one water coming right up,” she wrote on her pad, “have a great night,”

He redirected his attention to the people circulating through the dimly purple-lit room. There were plenty of strippers wearing various types of bras and shorts, some of them dancing near guests while others served drinks. Most of the guests were men of various ages, but a few women were dispersed among the tables and seats.

“Nightwing, come in,” Heeseung adjusted his earpiece, “anyone looking suspicious?”

Jake was going to be his ears for the night—in fact, he usually was, at least now that Heeseung and Batgirl split.

“It’s Heeseung tonight,” the older man reminded him in a mumble, “and yes—literally everyone looks guilty,”

“I’ll try to ID some people in the security camera footage then,” Jake replied, “For now, you can turn your mic off, maybe actually have some fun. The other ones you set up should suffice,”

“I’m on a mission, I’m not going to—”

“Here’s that water for you!” The recently returned waitress began, placing the condensation-coated glass on the table, “Just give me a holler if you need anything else,”

“Thanks,” Heeseung nodded politely as she walked away, his eyes following her briefly to ensure she didn’t return. “As I was saying, I’m not going to…oh my god,”

“What? What happened? Did you recognize someone?”

He did recognize someone, but not quite in the manner Jake was implying.

Heeseung did not need glasses. Anytime he wore them in public was purely for aesthetic purposes. But his eyes just had to be deceiving him in one way or another because Y/n was taking off her shirt in the middle of the stage.

“Heeseung!” Jake exclaimed, “What happened?!”

“N-nothing,” he replied, finally tearing his eyes away from Y/n’s body as she tossed away her shirt. “I need to talk to someone in here. I’ll turn my mic on when I’m done,”

“Well, shouldn’t I listen in if you’re gonna make a move?” Jake countered. “...Heeseung?”

It was too late. Heeseung’s mic was already off and he was losing his mind.

He tried not to look at his neighbor’s routine for about twenty seconds until he remembered that he was, in fact, undercover at the strip club.

What was she even doing there?

Of course, it was possible that she was newly a stripper, but it wasn’t likely—Heeseung was an observant neighbor, after all. Plus, he was watching her now. Yes, she looked good…really good…but her dancing was not ‘the most exclusive club in Bludhaven’ good. So…if she isn’t really a stripper…why was she here?

She was wearing purple. Heeseung liked purple, not that it’s relevant. A purple corset, purple platform heels, purple shorts, and, pinned in her hair, a silver barrette. Her makeup…was blue.

Heeseung didn’t know everything about makeup, but he did know that Y/n wouldn’t have worn blue eyeshadow knowing she was going to be wearing purple. She didn’t know she’d be doing this.

He knew better than to assume Y/n had been forced to do this, but he couldn’t rule it out. So he thought about the last time he saw her back at the apartment building. Was there anything that—Jeon Somi.

No, he didn’t remember Y/n mentioning her friend—he literally saw Somi in the window of the office by the stage. What the fuck were these two up to?

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay don’t be alarmed, come into me,”

And…he was watching Y/n again. To be fair, it was kind of what he was supposed to do while undercover at a strip club.

“So gon’ and let the rain pour,”

As Y/n wrapped her hands around the pole, a newfound type of confidence gracing her performance, cheers and whistles erupted from the audience. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“I’ll be all you need and more,” She sunk down the length of the pole, Heeseung’s breath hitching as she did so. She had a look of lust on her face as she looked into the crowd. Up to the moment where, of course…

She saw him. Fuck, she saw him while he was staring right at her and she was going to think he was a total weirdo because what excuse does he have for being here? And she still thinks he has a girlfriend!

She was clearly just as rattled as Heeseung because she stood up a few seconds later, completely abandoning her previous “who cares” confidence. A pang of familiar guilt rose in Heeseung as Y/n started walking offstage and applause rose in the audience once again. Until he realized that she was headed straight into the crowd. And his table. Oh, God. He needed a cover story. Jake…Heeseung could usually use Jake for his lies in one way or another, right?

“Heeseung! Come in, Heeseung!” What a neat coincidence.

Heeseung fumbled to turn on his microphone, “I’m here. Now is not the best time, though, so—”

“I finished the ID checks of most of the club,” Jake continued, ignoring Heeseung’s words, “the man wearing a rust bowtie in the southeast corner of the building is our guy. The whole table is involved in it!”

“Now is really not the time, Jake,”

“Fine, I’ll tell you the details after you give me the go,” he sighed.

Y/n was getting closer, her eyes shifting everywhere but at Heeseung. As she looked beyond the scaffolding of the balcony, she stopped in her tracks momentarily. She saw something. Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed.

What could she have seen?

“Hey there…” Y/n finally looked at Heeseung again, approaching his desk with a smile plastered on her face, “...handsome,”

“Hi, Velvet…Cash?” Heeseung struggled to recall her stripper name. Clearly, Y/n didn’t want anyone to know she wasn’t a stripper. He wasn’t about to ruin that. Plus, if it was clear they were friends acquaintances, Heeseung could be putting her in danger. Again.

By this time, she had one hand on the table and another wrapped around the corner of Heeseung’s chair. This club clearly had terrible circulation, because looking up at her made him feel like someone hid a space heater in his suit jacket.

“It’s Cherry. Velvet Cherry,” Y/n bent over further, forcing her words through clenched teeth. “What are you doing here? Last time I checked, you had a girlfriend,”

“Nope, she dumped me,” Heeseung replied in a hushed tone, “I’m just here because Jake wanted me to come, he’s meeting me in ten minutes. He thought it’d be good for my…heart,”

“Try again,” Y/n groaned, trying her best not to roll her eyes, “I know that’s a lie,”

“...fine,” Y/n lifted Heeseung’s chin with her finger as he spoke, “My professor got robbed. I’m here to try to find out who did it. My girlfriend did dump me, though,”

Personally, I think he told her way too much. But honestly, who could think straight with someone as pretty as her in such close proximity?

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, her hand falling away from his chin. Oh. Wait. Maybe she thought he was just lying about his girlfriend dumping him. You’re smarter than that, Heeseung.

“Forgive me,” Y/n stood up straight, pretending to adjust her hair in a moment of hesitation before turning around and taking a seat in the man’s lap.

Heeseung’s eyes widened, scrambling to look away until Y/n guided his face back to her with her hand. “You’re gonna get us caught if you keep looking at me like I’m your worst nightmare, Heeseung,”

The man inhaled sharply as Y/n mumbled, looking straight at his lips. She must have been devoted to this act because Heeseung could’ve sworn he was getting butterflies. “Look, you have to get out of here. The guy behind you is dangerous. Somi found some stuff on him in the office…or something. I’m not sure, she just pointed at him. The point is, you’ve gotta leave as soon as possible. For your own safety,”

“Fine,” Heeseung agreed reluctantly, the gears turning in his head, “I’ll leave you alone. Just get up, I’ve got fragile bones,”

“Thank you,” Y/n stood up confidently, bending down a final time to whisper in the man’s ear, “and do not utter a word to any of your buddies about that so-called lap dance. I do know where you live, after all,”

Heeseung smiled as Y/n walked off, but grew worried when she paused and turned right back around. “What happened?” he asked.

“I’ll explain,” Y/n grabbed Heeseung’s hand, pulling him out of his seat, “but you’re coming with me,”

The last thing Y/n wanted was for Heeseung to get hurt. Okay, that’s overcompensating, but you get the point—he was annoying, but she didn’t want him interrogated and hurt just for talking to her tonight.

So when she noticed a waitress mention his name to the man Somi warned her about, she panicked.

“Woah, hold on,” Heeseung began, Y/n’s grip on his wrist tightening enough to cut off circulation, “don’t you think these guys are gonna get the wrong idea here?”

“As if I care,” Y/n heaved, pulling the man next to the side door. “I’m gonna find Somi, and then we’re gonna run,”

Heeseung furrowed his eyebrows, mouth agape. “Run where? And why?”

“I’ll order a taxi, I don’t know. We’ll figure it out,” Y/n started, trying her best to recall her and Somi’s backup plan. “They know you spoke with me. Considering the fact that Somi and I are about to become their primary enemies and I don’t want your fragile bones cracking under the pressure, I’m taking you with me,”

“Okay…” Heeseung began, puzzled, “it’s just not very fool…proof,”

By the time Heeseung had finished his sentence, Y/n was distracted already, looking across the busy room at the several pairs of eyes focused on them.

“Y/n?”

Heeseung turned in the same direction, his eyes widening as the man in the rust bowtie he was warned about pointed right at them.

“Can you run in those?” Heeseung glanced down at Y/n’s elevated feet in worry.

“Not like I have much of a choice!” Y/n finally pushed the door open, grabbing Heeseung’s hand once again and sprinting—or, rather, trying to. She did not make it far.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, doubling over as they rounded the corner after exiting the club. “Okay, these have to go,”

It was raining harder than it had all day. Y/n was cold, in pain, and in danger. Now was not the time to be decked out in a corset and booty shorts.

“No, no,” Heeseung shook his head, his hair getting wetter by the second as he took off his jacket and tossed it to Y/n. “Wear this. You’re getting on my back,”

“Are you sure you can carry me, fragile bones?” she asked, eyeing Heeseung up and down in an insinuating manner before pulling his coat over her shoulders. To be fair, she did not know he was Nightwing. But still—damn, Y/n, now is not the time for banter.

“Just get on…” Heeseung rolled his eyes, bending his knees for Y/n to get on, “once we get back to my car, we can try to track down Somi. I’m sure she already left,”

“What do you mean?!” Y/n asked, hopping on anyways—her feet did hurt quite a bit, after all. “They’re only chasing us because they know I was with her! We have to go back right now,”

Heeseung began jogging with Y/n on his back, “just…trust me. Please. She’s fine, I’m sure,”

Y/n didn’t have any reason to trust Heeseung on a regular day. But if she went back to the strip club right now, they’d get her like a rat in a trap. She didn’t want to trust him, but there wasn’t much of a choice tonight. So she chose to cling on tight as water and wind hit her face and legs relentlessly—it was safe to assume her hair was no longer as gorgeous as it was ten minutes ago.

Heeseung’s hair looked great though—and it smelled like cinnamon. Y/n usually hated that she noticed that. It typically felt like she couldn’t think about how attractive or not that bad of a person he was in close proximity of him because he’d be able to see right through her and use it to his advantage as if they were in an ongoing war. It didn’t feel that way right now.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Just meet us at the street parallel to Skunk Avenue, Jasper Way,”

“Who are you talking to?” Y/n inquired, looking down at Heeseung before noticing a small earpiece resting in his left ear.

“A childhood friend. He’s picking us up,”

2. Reliability A woman wants someone who shows up, rain or shine. Support, shield, assist—I can’t tell you exactly which way she’ll appreciate it. Everyone is different.

previous ☆ next ☆ series masterlist ☆ masterlist

#how you get the girl 🌃#hoes4hoseok #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #kpop imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung #enhypen #enhypen reactions #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x y/n #lee heeseung x you #heeseung x yn

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rexmeshlasblog · 1 year

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It’s easy if you’d do it right

Commander Cody x Jedi Reader

Click here for part 2

Summary: Commander Cody notices that the Jedi Reader has problems with shooting with a blaster and insists on teaching…but it takes a turn he didn’t see coming.

Word count: 1259

Warnings: feelings, fluff, mentions of war, use of Y/N, fmc, mentions of loss, intimate moment, (a bit) cuteness, lots of sexual tension, mocking Commander Cody, use of blasters and teaching, open end but there could possibly be a part 2

A/N: I don’t know how I wrote this, but I like how it came out. Let me know what you think and if you’d like a part 2. Enjoy.

„Kriff, it’s impossible to shoot with that thing“, I mumbled under my breath. When I was out with Fives and Echo from the 501st Battalion a while ago, we made a bet. They battled me that I wasn’t able to shoot with one of their blasters and, confident as I was, I said I could easily shoot as good as them, maybe even better. They just laughed at me and now I understood why. Why they learned how to use it within such a young age. Shooting with that thing was kriffing difficult. This really wasn’t quite as easy as it looked like. But they shot the clankers with such elegance that one could quickly imagine that you’d do just as well.

That’s how I ended up in the trainings room on the cruiser. At midnight. Trying to shoot in the middle of my target, but failing miserably. Turns out watching someone doing it and copying it wasn’t able for everything. Especially not with one of these blasters.

The bright light were slowly getting on my nerves while the white walls and the targets seemed to laugh at me. I would do the same if I were an outsider watching me. I never failed that much in my life before.

“Maybe I hold it wrong“, I mumbled to myself. Scanning the DC-15A with my eyes up and done. The black color shining bright. It was a new one I bought.

“You hold it wrong”, someone behind me agreed. I turned around blaster pointed at the person. The Commander just holding his hands up in defence. “I’m not here to criticise you, General.” A slight grin could be seen on my opposite. A grin I knew all to well, because I did everything to be able to see it.

“It’s you.” Cody. The last man in the galaxy I wanted to see me fail. The force was hilarious as always.

I took my weapon down and turned back around to the targets. It was embarrassing that he saw me how I failed doing such an easy task he did daily and with a confidence only he had. A confidence I always admired.

“You need help with that?” He asked as I sensed that he moved closer. Almost standing directly behind me. Almost touching my body. I felt his breath in my neck and a shiver ran down my spine. Kriff Cody.

“Yeah, I’m trying since an eternity, but I’m not able to do it right. It’s so confusing.” The frustration in me was clear to hear. Also to Cody who chuckled.

“Here, let me just.” The next second I felt his hands correcting my stand. Cody’s practiced hands went from my hips to my legs and shoulders, before he rested one of them on my waist. A tingling feeling was everywhere left where his hands had brushed me.

He gently squeezed my waist while his thumb was caressing it with slow circles. My breath hitched and my head went blank. Not one thought left. All I could sense was Cody. His hands on me. How he touched me and how he could possible touch me. But he wouldn’t cross the line? Would he?

“Now, eyes on the target”, his voice sounded raspy and was closer to my ear than I’ve ever imagined it to be. I felt his breath on my ear and it spread goosebumps all over me. It was hard to get back to reality while he was so close to me. Touching me. I slowly lifted my hands with the blaster in them, but it took more strength than something normally needed.

“Try to focus.” Cody reminded and his breath tingled. He would be the death of me. How should I focus when he was so close to me? Did things that weren’t allowed? Or was this allowed? But also why did I feel that way when I knew these feelings were forbidden? I knew that I liked him more than I should. I formed an attachment to him, but not just an attachment. I developed feelings within deep under my gut.

His hands switched places the one before around my waist now on my hand and the other one found it’s way around my waist. He corrected how I lifted the blaster, before he held onto my hand. His bigger hand covering mine. Holding it to keep me steady.

“Now you’re ready to shoot. Do it.”

Usually I was in charge, cause I was, besides Master Kenobi, one of his Generals. But somehow his command did something to me I couldn’t imagine. And I was sure that he knew. Cody knew that my stomach flipped in the best way possible. And that time it wasn’t because of his hands on me.

The next second I pulled the trigger and the blaster shot went on the target. Hitting perfectly in the middle. I knew that was Cody’s doing. Even with a burden like me he could shoot as perfect as always.

“Good job, Mesh’la.” I heard him breathe while squeezing my waist again. Hand wandering slowly deeper. I suppressed a moan which wanted to come from my lips. Mesh’la where did that come from the usual calm and restrained Commander?

“I’ve learned from the best.” I sighed back to him. My head falling on his shoulder and my hand with the blaster, to the side of my body. Wasn’t able to hold it any longer. My waist leaned into his touch while I tried not to lose the focus completely, but that was a battle I was pretty sure I’d lose.

Cody chuckled while his hand on my waist wandered slowly deeper, “Yeah? Who’s that? Would like to meet them one day. May I could learn something as well.”

“I don’t think that.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I think you don’t need anyone to teach you. You already do anything in the most perfect way.”

Cody’s breath grew heavier and I felt how he and his emotions switched by his force signature. I felt something that I never felt on him before, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“You know, General, that’s always the thing I thought of you, but now I saw you here. Failing at the task on shooting with a blaster. A thing everyone around me was always good at.” I felt his grin against my neck while his hand now rested on my stomach. “But no worries. That’s what I’m here for. To help you out like a good Commander does.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. Why was he like that.

“But for now I think you should go rest. It’s late and we have a mission tomorrow.”Cody’s hand took the blaster from me while I was still pudding in his arms. I didn’t want him to step away. He should stay. With me. And don’t stop whatever this was between us.

“Cody I-.” The beeping of my comm interrupted me. I slightly jumped at the sound. Out of Cody’s touch. The moment between us, officially over.

“I’m needed at the bridge”, I mumbled more to me than him after I had checked the breaker.

“You shouldn’t let General Kenobi wait then”, was all he said. His beautiful face didn’t show anything of all what happened a few minutes ago. Back was the soldier. The Commander.

With a simple nod I started to walk away from him. Feeling not as confident as normally. He had awakened something inside me. And I knew that it changed things between us as well.

#commander cody #commander cody x female reader #commander Cody x Jedi reader #commander cody x reader #Commander Cody needs a hug #clone wars #fanfiction #jedi reader #oneshot #star wars #clone troopers #star wars the clone wars #we stan Cody #commander cody x you #reader pov

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igotanidea · 5 months

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Eyes open: Jason Todd x banshee!reader part 2

part 1: not an average girl.

dedication: this is for my long anon, obviously ;) :*

warnings: some easter eggs, cause it's not only dc x reader, but also marvel x reader :D

***

We live in times plagued by an epidemic of loneliness.

8 miliard people in the world and yet - so many of them keep on carrying the weight of their own troubles by themselves, not having a single person to talk to.

8 miliard people and more often than not, even those who are surrounded by people on every day basis feels like they have no one they could truly trust and open up to.

And Y/N felt it too.

Even when living in her little town where everyone knew everyone.

So once she moved to New York, which was like a whole new world and seeing the see of people, the lights and neons and commercials on every corner, the cars and underground and having to deal with to many things and stimuli all at one, almost gave her anxiety.

But she was strong, she had to push through and try and figure out who she was and - hopefully - what was her place in the world.

And that was why she choose the big apple.

***

Her conversation with her mum was not as bad as she might have expected, but also - the topic of the discussion couldn’t be further from normal.

A banshee.

She was a freaking banshee, also known as the messenger of the death.

Definitely every young woman’s dream, right?

And - classic - no one bothered to inform her about it and she had to find out from some dying talking wolf.

Y/N could barely remember the walk from forest to home, believing what happened to her was just a crazy dream, from which she would wake up any second and end up laughing about whatever her tired, stressed mind have been producing.

But this was not a dream, it was reality.

And even thought she didn’t look like an Irish demon there was still something in her blood that give her some special abilities.

In other words - she was a freak.

„Y/N! Just calm down!” her mother cried out, seeing Y/N’s pale face and trembling hands. In return she got a desperate half-chuckle, half-sob and spilled cup of tea. „Look, I had no idea you will be the gifted one and -”

„gifted? How is that gifted?! It’s more like a curse.

„Y/N--”

„don;t Y/N me!”

„oh, please” her mother almost rolled her eyes at Y/N’s distress. „You make a fuss about something you have no idea about and --”

„I have no idea.” the girl interrupted „because someone kept it a secret from me-”

„Told you I had no idea that it would be you who -”

‘but you knew it was a general possibility!!”

„I was lucky enough for the mutation to omit my generation-”

„Lucky?! So you’re admitting it is in fact a curse!”

„could you please stop yelling?” her mother stood up abruptly and moved to close the door shut. „they don;t need to know.” she was obviously referring to Y/N’s stepdad and stepsister.

„How?! Why?! What else don’t I know?!Is there a vampire in the family as well? Or- maybe you’ll tell me that grandma was a werewolf?!”

„This is not a freaking twilight Y/N! Or whatever other teenage movie you have watched!”

„But sure as hell is starts to remind me of teen wolf!”

„Stop screaming!”

„No, you stop screaming!”

The truth was, that they were both screaming at each other and closed door did nothing to muffle the sounds. The voices were echoing through the entire house, even though the individual words were incomprehensible. (luckily for the rest of the household).

„Just say it, you were ashamed you had a daughter with some mutation!”

„For the third time - I didn’t know!I had my suspicions it could be you but-”

„You what?” Y/N;s voice got way more hurt and angered, all the emotions escaped from her like from a popped balloon after hearing this half-sentence. „Mum....”

„I’m sorry, sweetie...” her mother grabbed both of her hands squeezing them reassuringly, trying to make Y/N look into her eyes „I truly am, I should have told you about family blood, but I wanted to protect you....”

„Classic excuse.” the girl muttered

„classic excuse of a concerned parent.”

„i;m not a kid anymore! I’m 17! Almost 18!”

„you were not ready for it, Y/N.”

„well now I have to confront this crazy reality without any previous preparation! God, mum! It’s like waking up one day bleeding from the uterus without knowing what period is!”

„Did you just compared being a banshee to menstruation?” her mother chocked on the tea,

„I did not --oh...” her eyes grew wide „oh, damn, I did” she chuckled once, then twice and before she noticed, both she and her mother were laughing out loud about quite unfortunate parallel, the tension gone almost instantly.

„so what now?” the girl asked after a moment

„What do you mean?”

„dunno. You tell me. Do I get some training or something? How do I control it?”

„You don’t.”

„I don’t?!”

Her mother only shook her head.

„It’s not like in the movies or in the books. There is no magic switch that allows you to just turn it off or on. You just have to explore it by yourself.”

„are you sure there’s no instruction manual?”

„definitely not. It;s an individual matter and you have to find your own path” her mother just said

„Well, for the whole not-a-movie line of thinking, this one sentence kind of broke the whole argumentation....”

***

Her own path.

Since, technically speaking she still felt like a freak, it got the wheels in her brain turning.

What was the best place to find out herself and get to learn how to live with her so called gift?

What was the only city that could possibly accept another enhanced human?

Where on Earth she would both fit in the crowd and got space for pursuing the individuality?

Well-

She’s always been a fan of the Avengers....

***

New York.

To quote the classic: concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

Mhm. Right.

But before you reach your mental Empire State building, you have to adjust and become a countryman starting from learning the right accent ending on the skill of stopping the cabs in the never ending traffic and crowd.

18 year old girl living alone in a foreign city.

So many things could go wrong.

But for the first time in her life she felt like she was the one making choices and taking control of her own life. Freaking powerful feeling. And hey! She was a banshee! A literal banshee so everyone better make way cause here she comes!

Being smart and resourceful she got into NYU on R&D and technology faculty and all signs in heaven and earth was showing that she was on the highway to an internship at Stark Industries. If only it wasn’t for this little nerd named Peter Parker.... She could feel something was off with him.

***

So, generally speaking, life was good.

Except for the loneliness. The worst kind of it, loneliness in the crowd when on one hand you feel like a part of buzzing life and estranged and cut out from society on the other.

But with 8 miliard people in the world, almost 19 millions in NY you just got to keep your eyes open.

***

They first met in the pots and pans section of the supermarket.

She was looking at an air fryer placed at the top that came with the Iron Man puzzle gift set.

Even though she was taller than most of her peers, she couldn't reach it. To hell with high store shelves!

Just as she was about to take a quick trip to shoe shop just to buy a pair of high heels for help, a pair of strong arms appeared in front of her and handed her the air fryer she wanted.

She took it dully, her eyes following those arms once more, her mind restless.

It was another air fryer, different in that the other one came with the Captain America puzzle gift set.

Before she knew it, she was giving a thumbs up.

Just then, he looked over at her.

The first thing she noticed was how handsome he was, and the second thing made her chuckle because he gave her a thumbs up as well. Talk about modern communication where gestures serves as words,.

"You have good taste," he told her, along with a devilish grin, that only confirmed her belief he gave her the star spangled man piece on purpose.

„considering what I was going for - definitely.” she laughed „but thank you either way.”

„wait.” he made a funny face „you’re not actually telling me you prefer the guy with money and technology over the actual hero.”

She smirked. It was no secret that there has always been a bit of civil war between Tony’s and Steve’s fans.

„And what if I do?” Y/N teased, shocked by her own boldness.Maybe the city was having bigger effect on her than she previously thought.

She smirked. It was no secret that there has always been a bit of civil war between Tony’s and Steve’s fans.

„And what if I do?” Y/N teased, shocked by her own boldness.Maybe the city was having bigger effect on her than she previously thought.

'There are so many wrong things with that sentence" the guy rolled his eyes, almost as if he got some first hand experience with billionaire heroes/vigilantes "I suppose I’ll have to convince you you’re wrong?”

„Huh! Classic mansplaining?”

„Say, would you like a cup of coffee? My treat." he raised an eyebrow and she hesitated. After all he was a stranger. „Backing down from a challenge, princess?”

„Oh it’s on!” he was a stanger and she was a banshee. If anyone would feel upcoming tragedy it would definitely be her.

Yeah... you just gotta keep your eyes open.

Out of all the places in the world - Jason and Y/N’s story began in a small household appliances department.

....

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #avengers x reader #dc x reader #marvel x reader #jason todd fluff

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fractualized · 14 days

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I totally see where you're coming from with how you like your mix of comedy and seriousness and I think I'm really similar! I can definitely tolerate a lot of cheese but I'll almost always consider it a one off situation. I recently rewatched Batman and Robin while my wife was making a cast of my body so we could make cosplay and it was just so funny and silly that like it reminded me of what one of those really campy comics would look like in real life and I respected the fact that they could commit to it that way and make an artful movie that brought that to life but there were a few elements that didn't make sense to me like Barbara being Alfred's niece that I was just like whatever man and I knew I couldn't like... use it as a foundation for my basis of characterization, like I can with other media! I really love the animated series too, I grew up with it being my first experience with Batman and I always really respected it as a medium that I could trust to be satisfying and whole. I also really really liked Batman beyond because it felt like the closest continuation of that story even though I know it's really not canon and it kind of doesn't work, I like to view it as like a semi-official what if fan fiction from the original writers lol

I completely get what you mean about the comics, cuz I kind of view official comics like fanfictions even in their own right? I mean when you think back on like Bill finger and Bob Kane like eventually every other writer is going to be writing fanfiction of their characters but it's really fun to go through all the different Batman media and see whose stories you kind of like more and then whose stories you kind of tend to avoid

and when I mentioned I knew you liked comics, I was also speaking more from the perspective that you seem to have more knowledge about them Rather than I thought you had a preference for them, because you put together that comic PDF with batjokes moments and I was really impressed with that ☺️

i love your telltale fics and the games as a beautiful breath of fresh air into the life of batman so sometimes I like to imagine the animated series would be a great way to say where is juce 10 years later, if those universes were more cohesive setting wise lmao

Yeah, Barbara randomly being Alfred's niece is definitely one of the aspects of B&R that just… I guess it breaks up the campiness? That and Ivy being in love with Freeze for no discernable reason. And teaming up with him even though he'll kill her plants. And poor Bane! And then that weird bit at the end where Freeze is sort of forgiven but Ivy can't be? And Alfred almost dies. Should taken all that stuff out and added more camp.

I really enjoyed Batman Beyond too! I didn't even realize a lot of people didn't like it until recently. Honestly it's one of those things where I don't look into the reasons too much. lol I liked it and I'm fine with having liked it, no notes!! (OK I sorta lied. That bit in JLU where they made Bruce Terry's bio dad, that was bizarre.)

I am definitely in the "anything not created by Bill Finger and Bob Kane might as well be fanfic" camp. Like, sure, if DC puts resources behind a project, it has a better chance at being worth your time, but when I get down to it, I can't put a lot of weight behind the idea that someone's official derivative story is more valid than another someone's derivative AO3 post just because there was a cash exchange with a company that owns the original "asset." People who want to lean into that idea, that's their business.

The wild thing about the batjokes spreadsheet is I know that it's only a fraction of what's out there. I have read hundreds of comics at this point and I still feel like it's not enough to totally have a handle on things. Especially knowing how little I've retained. 😅 But that's another reason for the spreadsheet!

Thank you for enjoying my fics! And for implanting the idea in my head of a Telltale universe animated series… Just hijinks and maybe a little more murder with John and Bruce, bestest buddies.

#ask #my jibber-jabber

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captainkirkk · 2 months

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Untamed

All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Full-time necromancer and part-time cam boy, Wei Wuxian, finds himself unexpectedly homeless. An enthusiastic patron comes to his rescue.

Conversely:

Immortal Cultivator Lan Wangji has been waiting a long time for his deceased husband to be reincarnated again. In retrospect, he should have anticipated that this is how it would go.

myself and this body that they stuck me in by misspickman

"Oh,” Bart says with a hint of surprise in his voice. “You look so pretty.”

“I look like a girl,” he rebuts. He's not sure why he's even continuing this conversation.

Bart, blissfully unaware of Kon's internal crisis, shrugs and says, “Well, I think you'd make a lovely girl."

when I see myself, I always know where you are by suzukiblu

"There's no point in killing Superboy," Match says reasonably. "It's not like you'd care if he died."

"The Agenda thinks I wouldn't care if Superboy died?" Superman asks incredulously, just staring at him. "Why, because he's a clone?"

"Because I reported back my interactions with you when I was pretending to be him," Match corrects, puzzled by the vehemence of the response. "And also the lack thereof."

"What?" Superman says, still just staring.

Stranger Things

smoking guns (hot to the touch) by fivecenturiesverse (+ podfic)

Sure, they've saved the world, but the best part of that really is that it doesn't end there and in a town where everyone thinks he murdered a girl, he's at least got Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. It's really not his fault he accidentally starts living at Steve's house, he was invited, after all. There's a mystery too, about Barbara Holland and Steve's pool.

“Your boner is digging into me,” says Robin, and Steve snorts a tired sort of laugh.

“I don’t have a —”

“You do, I can feel it. Gross.”

“Okay, but it’s only a little one,” he says in a small voice which sounds like he’s impersonating someone.

“Are you ever going to let that go? I peed a little bit when the Russians got the torture devices out, okay?” She sounds amused, though.

Eddie jolts. “Russian torture devices?”

Robin carries on like she didn’t hear him but Steve catches his eye and he’s grinning. “How do you even have a boner dude? You were definitely having a nightmare I know your twitching means a nightmare… Did you have a boner over Vecna?"

M!ik

Iruma's Bloodline Ability by SpeedOfSnake

"Of course!” Asmodeus took the bait. “I am talking about Iruma-sama's ability to wipe the minds of his enemies.”

...Iruma had the ability to do what now?

...

Asmodeus believes Iruma has a bloodline ability, and Iruma tries to figure out why.

Star Wars

Back Where We Belong by thiswildheart

"Obi-Wan," Anakin breathed, and the dread crystallised into heartbreaking terror.

Of course. He should have known. Maybe he had known, but been too afraid to look it in the eye.

Not the kids, not Padmé, but someone as dear to him as they were. No wonder he'd been so sure his family was in danger.

(The war is over and Palpatine's gone, yet traces of his intended empire still threaten Anakin's family. Anakin will not fall again, but he's prepared to use everything the Light can offer to get his brother home.)

#happy friday :))#weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #sw recs #untamed recs #m!ik recs #dc recs #stranger things recs

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majorbaby · 1 year

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you're right about the overwhelming whiteness in mash fandom; somebody made a post about soon-lee (an on-screen woc) not receiving as much content and attention compared to peg and there were people who seemed to a) brush it off, b) actually be bothered by it, or c) equate their experiences??? like ???? and don't even mention how much of the racism toward klinger is brushed off

exactly. i think you explained it well but lemme unpack further:

peg appears on screen twice but never in corporal form next to any of the other characters. and her appearances are marred by the fact that she exists in the narrative only in relation to BJ. as his life-line and a source of his pain. that is not my interpretation of what she should be, it's how she was written. i'm not saying she's not important or that BJ does not love her and I'm not commenting even on the state of their marriage right now, i'm just saying peg as a human person with thoughts, feelings, ambitions is not something that the narrative focuses on. where there is Peg, there is always BJ somewhere - either having a meltdown because he misses his life back home or reminding us that he loves his wife and child.

i never did publish my fridging essay because it was long and it became about dc comics rather than MASH but... the suggestion that the peg character is 'fridged' or otherwise 'ignored' by the fandom is funny to me because, well, the show did it first. if you want something to rally against, why not start with the dudes who actually wrote her as being a phantom limb of BJ's and then i can maybe listen to you make the connection between that and how and why fandom is the way that it is about women characters. provided you expand that argument to at least include margaret because i don't i could be convinced using just peg as an example.

i could go on and on about peg's portrayal as being the real being affront to stereotypes of 50s women on MASH as compared to like, the various nurse ables or even Margaret but that would be touching the s1-3 vs 4-11 mess for the second time today so let's move on.

soon-lee is a strong, though not perfect, departure from that. like. really strong, imo. she's got 2 hours to make an impression on us and she does. she does not exist in association to klinger. she's had a life before klinger and though she expresses her sadness around it, she's willing to give up a life with him if she has to in order to find her family. and that one line in no way does justice to soon-lee's footprint on the show, but that's another post that i will write eventually.

basically, soon-lee is the heavylift for the show wrt women AND race, which isn't exactly fair to her to have to do but i'm still grateful for soon-lee. she seems to be an intentional contribution to the western tv canon of varied representations of racialized women and they did that in 1982. we haven't done much better since then on shows that primarily center white experiences, so that's why i think she's of note.

it does both women a disservice to equate their experiences in the narrative and also their treatment in the fandom - both are uneven. peg has way less agency in the narrative than soon-lee, yet soon-lee is nowhere near as present in fanwork as peg.

why is that? lots of reasons i think: peg being closely associated to BJ and BJ being the most popular character in fandom (next to hawkeye but i'm starting to wonder if he actually eclipses hawkeye) gets peg some points. people feeling out of their depth with what exactly to do with klinger and soon-lee's relationship bc it's pretty well resolved by the end - there are absolutely opportunities for future conflict with them being like, a mixed korean-lebanese couple in post-police-action korea but i admit even for me, someone who might be interested in writing something about that, i'd feel a certain responsibility to do my homework.

then again i've seen (and done) all manner and depth of academic research conducted by fanartists to write slowburn white m/m slash or even m/f fic so i'm not taking the race out of the picture completely. and that's the last, important, uncomfortable difference between peg and soon-lee - peg is white and soon-lee is not. i respect and appreciate the goal of any call to diversify the space (provided it doesn't come with any sort of weird guilt trip, which is a line i try to toe all the time) but we have to be careful that in doing that we're not denying racialized people their experiences. or at least acknowledging that there are different ways to move through the world.

#mash #mashblr #fandom fandom #peg hunnicutt #soon lee klinger #race on mash #replies

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striveattemptfail · 2 years

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Better and Brighter | Timber, PG, 3k

Summary: A look at everything that happened between Tim and Bernard from Bernard’s perspective. Posted for Bernard Week 2022: Fill The Blanks. Warning: Discusses school shooting + canon death of a character, as well as canon cult activities, but is not overly descriptive for any of these. Contains spoilers for Robin (1993), Batman: Urban Legends #4-6, and “Special Delivery” by Travis Moore in DC Pride 2022. Read on Ao3

A/N: Listen y'all, I tried to get this out for the end of this past pride, and when I missed that I aimed for Timberversary, and when I missed that I tried shooting for Day 7 of @bernarddowdweek. Alas, Bernard did not wanna shut up and took what should’ve been a 700-word fic to 3k, so now I am posting this a week after the anniversary /o\

Thank you to @saturniiids for the exceptionally quick beta~! Shout out to the Lightbulb Moment server for listening to my bitching as I tried to finish this fic lol. All other mistakes are mine.

————————————————————

In hindsight, Bernard maybe should’ve been tipped off that he was at least a little bit queer when, on the dude’s first day of school, he checked out Tim Drake from head-to-toe.

“Your eyes are clear and you lack the telltale hemp-ish smell that would place you with the Heads.”

Dark blue eyes. Not quite as striking as the clear sky above us, but notable nonetheless. He smells like shampoo and fresh laundry—and maybe a little bit of sweat.

“You could be a jock—you look ripped enough—but then again there’s all those books to consider.”

Well-fitted tee over muscles that are clearly stretching the fabric. Perhaps an athlete with a secret?

“You are an enigma, grasshopper.”

This is a guy I want to know better, he thought.

“Name’s Bernard Dowd, by the way. Bernard, got it? Call me Bernie and I’ll have to punish you.” Bernard handed back the newbie’s schedule with a small grin.

He was met with an obliging smile and a flash of amusement in the newbie’s gaze.

“Tim Drake.”

“Glad to meet you, Timmy.”

“Tim.”

His grin widened.

“See? We’re getting along already.”

And in less than five minutes of meeting him, Bernard had his arm around Tim’s shoulders.

It was a full assessment and glowing review—he should have probably picked up that this wasn’t exactly something a straight man would do to anyone, unless they were completely obnoxious.

(To be fair, Bernard knew he was pretty presumptuous back in high school. He wasn’t a jerk about it though.)

Time went on, and days at Louis E. Grieve blurred from one into the next. Classes and teachers and crushing on Darla from afar was his normal. Sometimes the only thing worth remembering about his days was Tim and the tall tales he came up with. Frequent absences and constantly marred skin was totally different from what Bernard was used to. Tim’s lies about being on the gymnastics team with friends from his old boarding school were easy to see through, but Bernard was a patient man and figured Tim would tell him what was going on eventually.

Patience was how he finally got the chance to speak to Darla, after all. (Well, aside from Tim’s crazy stunt confronting the giant jocks surrounding her.) Bernard knew she wasn’t into him, but he could be patient and wait for her crush on Tim to wane. Tim was smart and cool, sure, and objectively attractive to top it off (how did he find the time to work out?), but Bernard knew he still had a chance because Tim apparently had a girlfriend.

He was genuinely curious about the elusive “Stephanie” Tim so often talked about. She sounded almost too good to be true, and Bernard remembered calling him out on it.

“I’m happily involved with someone else,” Tim had reminded him.

Bernard resisted rolling his eyes. “So you keep saying, but where is this mysterious Stephanie Whatshername? Why have I never met her?”

It’s because she’s not real, he thought knowingly, or because “Stephanie” is actually a “Stephen”.

Bernard was a conspiracy theorist—he knew how to deduce things. But he was also a pretty chill dude, and he figured he’d let Tim know that the poor guy didn’t have to keep lying about a fake relationship just to cover up his sexuality.

He had patted Tim’s shoulder reassuringly. “If you got something you wanna tell me, then speak up. We’re buds. I’ll understand.” He gestured to himself. “We’re two modern, enlightened men in the new millennium, Drake. No need to make up imaginary girlfriends.”

This should’ve been another (rainbow) flag. He had always considered himself an ally—he was never a homophobic asshole—but maaaybe he could have picked up on why he was so adamant that he was really cool with it if Tim ever came out to him.

And, okay, he also had a thing for hot women. He could cut himself a little slack. Darla Aquista was the hottest girl at school; he would’ve admitted that even after his feelings about her changed from a crush to something more platonic. If he was being honest, she was still just as attractive once she got mystical powers and became Laura Fell. He also wasn’t lying when he said that Tim’s stepmom was hot—indeed, the Drake men were very lucky guys—and he still won’t apologize for sort-of ogling her when he had dinner at Tim’s place.

“Bernard, take my advice,” Tim had warned in a low voice. “You really need to stop talking, right now.”

He did, and he and Tim played the new Batman and Robin game Bernard got his hands on.

It probably should have tipped him off when he thought Tim’s angry pout was cute though.

————————————————————

Bernard lost himself when Darla died.

One moment he was walking the halls and the next he was in the nurse’s office because Darla had been shot.

He had never felt so helpless in his life.

When Tim left the room, armed with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a wooden baseball bat, Bernard couldn’t even bring himself to stop him. It was obviously a suicide mission, but Bernard could do nothing but lock the door as asked once Tim left.

He found out later that Tim was the reason Darla even made it to the school. Someone (Tyrone?) said that Tim had acted heroically despite the madness around them. Bernard almost wished he could have seen it, seen Tim apparently kicking ass in action, but it wouldn’t have changed the fact that he lost a friend.

He saw Tim at Darla’s funeral, but he didn’t look like he wanted to see anyone.

And neither did Bernard.

He was transferred to a private school by the next week, and for a long while it was the last time he saw Tim.

————————————————————

It was after what happened at Louis Grieve that Robin—his Robin, the one before the girl Robin—was back in action. By that point, he’d never actually met Robin before, and he still vehemently believed that Batman replaced Robins with new orphans, but somehow Bernard recognized him. Something about the way this Robin moved, the way he immediately slunk away before anyone could even get a clear picture of him, that made Bernard sure it was the Robin he was most familiar with. The forums he frequented disagreed, but Bernard knew better.

He started to obsess over Robin—his Robin, not the new one, the smaller, younger one with a sword that showed up later—and the way he worked with the urban legend that was the Batfamily. He learned what made this Robin different, his quick movements and fighting style. He didn’t quite have the grace of one of the previous Robins, or the acrobatic strength of another Robin, or even the ruthlessness of the latest Robin. But there was an efficiency that was distinguishable to Bernard. He could think fast and follow through even when things went sideways.

This fixation filled his days. It distracted him from the pain of losing Darla, the shock of getting her back (sort of), the whirlwind of her leaving him again (though at least not dead this time), the blur that was his new life at a different school.

And it helped keep his mind off how much he really missed Tim.

Bernard missed messing around and playing games with him. He missed being able to talk for hours on end about the latest conspiracy theory he came across, even if Tim mostly just laughed at most of them. Bernard missed the easy way he could throw an arm around him or bump their shoulders together.

Again, in hindsight, all of this probably spoke volumes about his own sexuality. It was one thing to be inspired by Robin’s heroics and take self-defense classes; it was another to study Robin’s specific fighting style. It was one thing to miss a close friend like Tim after he switched schools; it was another to think about him all the time.

And Bernard did think about Tim. He thought about Tim a lot.

And because he was already familiar with forums and the vast wide world of the web, he took to the boards once more to figure out what the hell he was feeling.

It didn’t take long for him to realize he was bi. Girls were still plenty attractive to him, but there was no mistaking that he had affection for guys too.

(Or, at least, one specific guy.)

He came out not long after his revelation because, after everything that happened at Louis Grieve, he didn’t want to hold back anymore. Besides, if Robin(s) could fight every night against some of the most horrific rogues around, he figured being openly queer was a cake walk.

He was a man of the new millennium, after all.

He changed up his wardrobe and style, swapping his biker shades for ear cuffs; trimmed his hair down to a shorter, messy mop. He dated around for a bit, men and women alike. He even went to his school’s pride celebration.

Nothing stopped him from missing Tim and Darla (Laura, he had to remind himself, it’s Laura now) and how things used to be, but the changes helped. Investigating new theories (Robin-related or not), training in self-defense classes, discovering himself, meeting new people—it was his new normal.

Despite how busy he now was, it still took probably longer than it should have to get back in touch with Tim. Between the big adoption announcement into the Wayne family and becoming a shareholder in Wayne Enterprises, Tim Wayne definitely had public profiles online, but Bernard knew that his attempts to contact Tim through those accounts would’ve probably gone into a spam inbox before Tim could even see it.

Tim Drake was a little harder to track down.

Bernard was nervous about his search—so much time had already passed and the event that separated them was so traumatic. Would Tim remember him? Would he even give Bernard the time of day? What if things became too awkward between them? Would he look Bernard in the eye and only remember what happened at Louis Grieve? The answers left Bernard anxious with every page he swiped through, made him slow down as he scrolled past different accounts.

But Bernard wasn’t about to quit, and despite his worries, he still really missed his friend.

After some sleuthing around and hopping between social media profiles, he eventually managed to DM Tim on Pixtagraph. Bernard wasn’t even 100% sure if the account was active seeing as its last post was a few years ago, but it was the best lead he had, so he took a shot.

By some stroke of luck, Tim responded in less than a day, and the two of them decided to meet up for a casual dinner by the next week.

————————————————————

Reconnecting with Tim was—

—kinda amazing.

He was as smart and dorky as Bernard remembered him. He was still easy to tease and poke fun at, and still took Bernard’s jokes in stride. A little less sure of himself unlike when they were in high school together, but still just as driven.

(Just as cute too, if Bernard was being honest, but that would’ve been jumping the gun.)

Then the Chaos Monsters crashed their date, and more than anything Bernard wished he had contacted Tim earlier, if only so they could have spent a little more time together.

————————————————————

It was a combination of reading through discussion boards and talking to new friends that he learned about the Children of Dionysus. He might have made some peace with his sexuality and what happened in the past, but that didn’t mean he was set for the rest of his life.

It turned out a lot of other people felt the same way too.

It was—exhilarating. Letting everything go, having the pain focus his mind, being able to heighten his own pain tolerance during fights. It was called a “cult”, but Bernard only ever thought of it like a BDSM club, just less sexual and open to people his age. He thought that, while the leaders were a bit cold, they were still charismatic and persuasive, and he eagerly wanted to soak up their promises. He thought the “Chaos Monsters” were only overdramatic bodyguards who made sure everyone kept quiet about their little gatherings.

Stupid, he knew now.

And he was proven exactly how stupid that was when he was publicly kidnapped. The cult leaders decided he was going to be a sacrifice, and the Chaos Monsters were ready to oblige. He was incredibly lucky that Robin came in the nick of time, and Bernard very much learned his lesson about the slippery slope that was joining a cult.

————————————————————

After the whole ordeal with the Children of Dionysus, things got easier.

It wasn’t perfect. Missed dates happened more often than both he and Tim liked, but Bernard figured being a son of The Bruce Wayne was a lot to deal with. It was also clear that Tim was still hiding things from him, but just like back in high school when he spotted Tim’s scars and bruises, just like at Darla’s funeral, Bernard didn’t push. Tim was planning to stick around, and so was Bernard—he’d talk to Bernard eventually, or Bernard would coax it out of him.

He was patient with Darla (Laura); he could be patient with Tim too.

Bernard loved whatever time he did get with him. Between movie dates and diner visits, he enjoyed every moment he spent with Tim.

It was a bit weird, but in a good way, in the best way. They were getting to know each other again, but it also felt like they were falling right back into how things used to be.

Now with more handholding.

There was never a dull moment, and Bernard never knew he could be this happy, this comfortable with someone. He spent so long trying to make up for everything he lost since Louis Grieve, having someone—having Tim—to enjoy his time with...

He didn’t have the words to describe how lucky he felt.

————————————————————

Tim was late. Again. Bernard was very used to this. He would be more worried, if only because the reason why his boyfriend was late again was because of some rogue criminals blocking the streets by the Narrows.

Macro and micro robbery cutting the roads off from the parade. Will be late. Sorry. Sad face.

(Tim used text-to-speech to send his messages, Bernard had learned. Tim said it was because he usually got around on his motorcycle—which Bernard had conveniently never seen—but the written out emojis were kinda endearing nonetheless.)

Bernard typed out a quick response:

It’s okay. I’ll meet you at the park. Thumbs up. LOL. ;P

Tim sent back a middle finger (the actual emoji this time) and Bernard couldn’t help but laugh.

When Tim finally caught up to where Bernard was watching Gotham’s pride parade, the little speech he opened with was really sweet. He started recalling their dates, even the disaster that was Bernard getting kidnapped by Chaos Monsters; he talked about how their relationship had been a journey of discovery, not unlike Bernard’s own; and for as rehearsed as it sounded, Bernard could tell that Tim meant every word he was saying.

“—know how my life is, how hectic it can be. I was afraid I’d let you down. And I have. Repeatedly. And I’m sorry—”

He had half a mind to slap a hand over Tim’s mouth because he was rambling, but honestly Bernard was charmed by how nervous Tim was, and he wanted to know where his little speech was going.

“—want you to know I’m so happy to have you—”

Bernard was suddenly filled with warmth, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the summer sun shining down on them. Between Tim’s words and the earnestness in his voice, all Bernard could feel how happy he really was, same as Tim.

“—which is why I’m giving you this.”

Tim held his hands out to present a white box, which Bernard took from him before flipping the top open with excited curiosity.

It was a cake, or at least three-quarters of one. The right side was pretty ruined. The text written in different coloured frosting was now cut off with the crumbled corner, and the rainbow sprinkles mushed together in the mess.

It was adorable.

“How did you know it was my ‘Fir Pri’?” Bernard smirked down at his gift, his heartbeat fluttering despite the mistakes. Sure, the cake was a bit destroyed, and, yeah, he’d already been to pride before.

But he loved it all the same.

He thought about going to his school’s pride celebration, really confronting the fact that his feelings for Tim and admiration for Robin wasn’t just friendly affection. He thought about his time in the Dionysus cult, and how close he got to losing everything, again.

As he examined the cake, Tim—of course—started babbling again. “It’s supposed to say ‘Happy First Pride,’ but it had a rough journey getting here.”

Bernard thought about how the years have passed for him, how they were once filled with loss and regret, then eventually enlightenment and discovery. He thought about how it all led to finding his way back to Laura, and Tim.

“And I baked it myself, so it wasn’t all that pretty to begin with, to be honest.”

Bernard shifted his gaze from the cake to his boyfriend, who looked sheepish and a little apologetic.

“It’s perfect and I love it,” he said with certainty, “flaws and all.”

He meant it too. Even though this wasn’t technically his first pride celebration, it was his first pride with someone he really liked.

It was his first pride with Tim.

And that was still pretty special all on its own.

He pulled Tim close, pressing his forehead against Tim’s, their noses almost brushing from the closeness. His smile twisted from amused to fond.

“It was definitely worth the wait.”

#bernard dowd week 2022 #bernarddowdweek2022 #red robin #dc robin #robin #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #fanfic #jercy attempts words #happy fir pri and one year timberversary everybody (ಥ‿ಥ)

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voidvendetta · 8 months

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Thinking about the dude I saw when I was visiting a landmark on a vacation. He was about 30s-40s and had a DC T-shirt, Gryffindor socks, a purple beaded bracelet and a cane. And I saw him with a wife and kids as well. I remember my aunt talking about the landmark and he came up to us to comment on it as well, and you could tell just how amazed he was. He was a kid at heart, not afraid to show it, and seemed so happy. I complimented his socks though I’m not really a Harry Potter fan, and he just gave me a cheerful, “Team Gryffindor!!!”

It’s people like him that remind me that the idea of, “growing up” is really just used to stifle creative expression to make you think that you need to give into the business suit 9-5 grind. Maybe he did have a 9-5 job. But he wasn’t letting that stop himself from living for happiness. It’s adults that don’t think of their childhood as behind them, but as a part of themselves that stays with them that keeps kid’s joy alive. These people are what keep kids from thinking that childhood is a short time before you have to take on the responsibilities that the past generation left for you (which is untrue, both generations take it on. It just leads to a divide.) but instead that you can continue to do what you love if that’s what’s keeping you going. Even if it’s intended audience wasn’t you. And this guy had a wife and kids too. The idea that nerds and geeks are loveless losers is what has made me hide parts of myself, and that isn’t true. Love is fluent in all ways, so just because you don’t appeal to the ideal of attractiveness doesn’t mean you aren’t someone’s dream.

Adults like him are the people who are here to enjoy life. And passing that onto kids is so important. All the adults I’ve met that are more geeky have been some of the best, most understanding, parents I’ve seen. They are here to advocate for their child’s happiness, not the social goals of what they should be at what age.

in that short time I saw him it gave me a hope for my future, a sparky of joy. My aunt smiles and said, “He’s a child at heart.”

I turned to her and said, “Those are the kind of adults that I’d trust my life with.”

#Voids voice

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smartycvnt · 2 years

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fade into you

pairing: elizabeth donnelly x reader

prompt: 24. "the first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned."

Politics in general was like the cesspool of humanity. The worst of the worst seemed to congregate there. You had met people who would make decisions that they did not entirely agree with for the sake of making a quick buck, even if it cost thousands their lives. That was why you had left DC years ago. New York really wasn't much better, but it was far enough removed from anything international. The thought that you were making decisions that could affect the world around you was terrifying, but you couldn't find it in yourself to stay out of politics completely.

And you were glad that you didn't. If you had thrown your career away and genuinely retired when you left Washington, you'd never had met Elizabeth. You had never met someone who kept you on the edge of your seat like Elizabeth did. She was smart, funny, strong, and most importantly, reminded you that you were there to be one of the good ones. When the world around you started to bring you down, Elizabeth was there with the extra support you so desperately needed.

"That weird little man from Syracuse sent you another gift basket," Eilzabeth said as she set the basket down on the dining room table. You were in the kitchen, getting yourself a glass of wine. Elizabeth had just gotten home, and you were more than excited to see her. "How did your meeting in Albany go?"

"It was awful, and it seems the Senator is already trying to get back on my good side," you said with an amused look on your face. Elizabeth placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. "I missed you."

"It was nice to be able to see my dining room table for once," Elizabeth teased. You knew that she missed you as well, even if she wasn't outright saying it. You had gone to Albany for the week to meet with different members of the state congress to see if there was anybody who you were willing to work with on their upcoming campaigns. It was looking more and more like you'd just run for office yourself, but you had to talk to Elizabeth about it first.

"Can I ask your opinion on something?" Elizabeth nodded as she snatched the wine glass from you. "What would you think if I ran for office next term? It doesn't have to be senate or anything, but maybe as a representative. I won't do it if you don't think we can handle it, but if you went, you'd understand where I'm coming from."

"I've been to the galas and shaken the same hands you have. If you want this, then I think you should go for it. I'll be right behind you every step of the way," Elizabeth promised. She pressed a kiss to your lips and everything felt right for a moment. All of the hopelessness you had left Albany with was slowly starting to leave you.

"You know, the first time you smiled at me, it felt like the universe aligned." You knew it was a sappy thing to say, one that Elizabeth would give you shit for later, but you needed to say it. She seemed to understand that in the moment, and gave you the same smile that she always did whenever you did something sweet for her. "I love you."

"Of course you do," Elizabeth laughed.

#elizabeth donnelly imagines #elizabeth donnelly imagine #elizabeth donnelly x reader #elizabeth donnelly #svu imagines #svu imagine #svu #svu x reader

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thevindicativevordan · 1 year

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Comics this week?

Danger Street #1 - Enjoyable! Not sure if King can handle all these characters, he's not a writer who is the best at giving everyone their own voice, but I liked the first issue. Haven't seen anyone offer a guess who the villain that traumatized Lady Cop is, must be a deep cut.

Dark Crisis: Big Bang #1 - An entire issue devoted to Waid indulging his Silver Age fanboy, but in a manner I don't enjoy compared to World's Finest. What the hell is the point of bringing back all these obscure worlds from Pre-Crisis that no one except Waid and a few other boomers know or care about? Why do we need two official vampire worlds? Or the Justice Lords and Injustice? Or the Crime Syndicate and apparently a Pre-Crisis Earth where the names stayed the same but the moralities flipped? Yippee I guess, must make sure that every evil Superman has their own official Earth. Morrison wanted to make sure that the Multiverse was more than just "hey here's Superman and Batman but this time they're Egyptian", they wanted the Multiverse to support different characters as being equal to the usual A-Listers. This new Multiverse is regressing back to the old status quo of there being a million Earths and Superman and Batman are the stars on every one. Weird that they left off the Arkhamverse, Tomorrowverse, and YJverse but included Injustice and DCSG. No films or TV Earths besides the Reeve/Keaton one, and even that is just meant to stand in for the Superman '78/Batman '89 comics. If this aimed to get me excited about the Multiverse it failed, I just want the damn thing to go away for a while and let DC focus on Earth 0 for a bit.

WildC.A.T.S. #2 - Breezy read but fun. Didn't expect Mr. Majestic to make his return so soon. Lot of Superman analogues, and actual Supermen, running around the DCU, somebody should do something with all of them.

Superman: Son of Kal-El #18 - Well this issue encapsulated this entire run in a nutshell: some interesting ideas that are failed by terrible execution resulting in a bland book. At least I can finally hop off Taylor's ride, won't be letting sunk cost tricking me into reading the next miniseries. A recent interview by Taylor made it sound like AoS will indeed be the finale for his time with the character, he was talking about how other people will be writing Jon after him and how Jon will be a big player in what's coming up. Until Taylor finishes writing Jon I've got zero interest in Jon anymore. Let his era be over soon please, this issue was clearly not meant to be the end of the series which tells me this was a sudden change, likely caused by editorial losing faith in Taylor as Jon's caretaker.

I Am Batman #16 - Huh. Didn't see that coming but I am intrigued where it goes. Ridley also gave an interview recently where he talked about other people writing Jace after him. Maybe Jace will be getting his own follow up mini just like Jon is, but by someone else.

Batman Incorporated #3 - Ghost-Maker is a total asshole and I'm not sure how long I'll keep reading if he remains the star. Dude needs to get humbled fast.

Invincible Iron Man #1 - Fine. About the same level of quality as Duggan's X-Men for what that's worth. Should have gotten Hickman on this, it's insane that Iron Man was the breakout star of the MCU and Marvel cannot seem to get him that modern day epic run he desperately needs.

Planet Hulk: Worldbreaker #2 - Pak is sleepwalking through this it feels like. Either that or it's decompressed for the trade, because not much is actually happening issue to issue. Jen's fate reminds me of the 40k God-Emperor.

#weekly reviews

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crossfire-essays-collected · 6 months

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From Crossfire #3, July 1984

This month, I would like to talk to you about 1957 Thunderbird convertibles.

But not yet. First, I’d like to talk about the incredible similarities between the strong, handsome Jay “Crossfire” Endicott and his author. The incredible part is that there aren’t nearly enough of them.

Writers, some say, always write about themselves; it matters not whether their hero is a pilot, a clown, a vampire, the President, Yertle the Turtle or even a heroine… they’re really writing about themselves. And, of course, we’ve all encountered some writers for whom that’s true — writers who, whether they’re writing fiction or discussing the state of the world, are never quite able to get off the subject of Themselves. I can think of one who couldn’t write about Somebody Else if you pointed a howitzer at his vitals.

I don’t do that; write about myself, I mean. Maybe I should but I don’t… as readers of DNAgents can probably attest. There are five widely disparate characters in that book-six, perstates Witin the, woudht behere now, d havetong since been carted off to a room with Goodyear stencilled on the walls. I used to write the Road Runner comic book and I never, in all those years, got the urge to go zooming across the desert going, “Beep beep!”

Well, maybe once. But not often.

Oh, Jay and I have our similarities: Two that I can think of. One is that he has a very strong sense of Right and Wrong and he gets rightfully steamed when he sees someone Big and/or Wrong picking on someone Little and/or Right. He believes that Justice Always Triumphs. I’d like to think Ihave the same trait but, then, who doesn’t? The other similarity, I’ll get to.

Our differences are immense. I don’t look anything like him, for one. Some of you may have read a book that Mr. Spiegle and I did for DC called BLACKHAWK-the book of which the DC Publicity Department was heard to remark, “Oh, really? Do we publish that?” Certain of my friends — I’m not going to mention any names, Richard Howell and Alan Brennert — insist that, from issue to issue, Dan subtly altered the likeness of the title character to look more and more like the author.

And maybe he did; I wouldn’t put it past Dan. But I do know I look nothing like the good-looking Mr. Endicott.

I’m not athletic, either. I may not be the worst physical specimen in this world but I’m certainly in the bottom two. Talk about clumsy: You ever see anyone trip over latitude and longitude lines?

Back when I went to University High School (rah), I set but one record in the Physical Education department and, I’m told, it stands to this day. I became the first student ever to have a perfect attendance record and still flunk Gym.

This was not as easy to do as one might think. The first day of class, Mr. Kampmann said that excessive absenteeism was the only reason he ever failed anyone. Be there every day and you’ll get at least a C. I reminded him of that the day he gave me an F, despite my showing up as regularly as ringworm in the Shower Room.

“Well,” he said. “For you, we’ll change the rule.”

I didn’t know what to do. I mean, how do you cram for Push-Ups? Finally, I had an idea. There was a problem with the scoreboard on the football field: It never did anything even remotely resembling the commands given it by the control box. Push the button to light up Second Down and the opposing team was suddenly awarded five touchdowns and an extra point. Once, in the middle of a crucial championship football game, the scoreboard suddenly decided it was baseball season and it began throwing Home Runs and Errors and Balks up there.

My scheme was brilliant, considering it was my scheme. I convinced the Phys. Ed. department to let me fix the scoreboard in lieu of taking Gym. But don’t think it was easy. For one thing, I knew about as much about repairing scoreboards as DC knows about publicizing war comics. And the bigger problem was that, my third day on the job, I accidentally fixed the damn thing—a fluke Ihad to keep hidden until I graduated, two and a half years later. It meant ripping all the wires out about three dozen times but I never went back to Gym Class.

If you want a look at the fruits of my handiwork — and at University High in general, God knows why — just turn on HBO any hour of the night or day and catch a Rock Hudson film they run incessantly called “Pretty Maids All in a Row.” Remember how I told you in #1 that, in Hollywood, everyone wants to get into the movies? Well, this includes buildings, too. Uni Hi — which made its screen debut in a Patty Duke film called “Billie” — served as Location for the film in which Mr. Hudson played a guidance counselor at a school populated by gorgeous female nymphomaniacs. The film was written by Gene “Star Trek” Roddenberry and, considering the girls l went to school with, it must surely rank as Gene’s greatest contribution to the world of science-fiction.)

What I’m getting at is that Endicott’s an athlete and I am anything but. Still, we have that one other similarity and now’s when I get to talk about 1957 Thunderbird convertibles. You’ll note that Mr. Endicott drives one. So does Mr. Evanier and I’ll tell you why…

A car buff, I’m not. I am not the mechanical type, as proven by the time I tried to look at my engine by peeking through the ignition keyhole. But when I was five, the classic ‘57 T-Bird made its debut and, by the time I was six, they were everywhere. They were going for just shy of three grand-which, today, would almost buy you two hub caps and the ash tray. I used to admire them, everywhere I went.

One day, my Uncle Aaron said to six-year-old-me, “Tell you what, Mark. When you’re eighteen, I’ll buy you a Thunderbird!”

Now I should point out, my Uncle Aaron had no intention whatsoever of buying me a car. He was just saying this to promote a little fawning gratitude from his nephew and I responded in kind. I gushed over my Uncle Aaron who was going to buy me a Thunderbird in just twelve years and he enjoyed the fawning, confident that I would forget all about it in a few months.

But Uncle Aaron was wrong. The kid had the memory of an elephant. Every week or two, I’d remind him of his pledge and every time, he’d grab his face in his hands and in semi-mock anguish go, “Oh, no! I’m going to have to buy him a Thunderbird! He’d make weeping sounds but he never said he was going to renege so I went on reminding him-not constantly but often enough. Finally, when I was about eleven, Uncle Aaron took the coward’s way out and died. Even at that age, I had the good taste never to bring up the subject of my T-Bird with his widow, my Aunt Dot.

As I grew older and ultimately went the Buick route, I sometimes toyed with the notion of buying a ’57 T-Bird. Then I checked the going rates of them and hurriedly stopped toying. You think old comic books go up in value, take a gander at T-Bird prices—and they aren’t even sealed in Mylar Snugs. I finally put the whole notion out of my mind.

Now, here’s where the story gets interesting. You were probably wondering when it would.

Many years ago, I was invited to a Hollywood-type party filled to overflowing with folks from the TV business. I was supposed to meet my date there and, when I arrived alone, I found myself waiting for the valet auto-parker to come claim my Buick and back it up the hill at 85 MPH to a too-small parking spot. Ahead of me was a sleek, shiny, fire-engine red 1957 Thunderbird convertible. Its license plate said DIAN P and out of it stepped one of the most beautiful women on this or any other planet. But I wasn’t really looking at her. I was looking at the car. If you saw this woman, you’d know how sick I really was. In fact, you can see this woman: Turn on “The Price is Right” any morning. Her name is Dian and she’s one of the models who hustle prizes on and off stage.

I found this out because, once I got inside the party, I immediately inquired about as to who she was. Armed with information from mutual friends, I stepped gingerly over to her and attempted to strike up a conversation about her car. I wanted to know if she’d sell it and I was just about to offer several of my surviving relatives in barter when she gave me an icy “Oh, excuse me, I see someone else I have to talk to” and she was gone. I later realized that she had thought I was trying to pick her up… which I might have attempted, had I not been so infatuated with what she was driving.

You’d understand if you saw this car. Matter of fact, you can see this car and how many other articles have you read with visual aids you can refer to on your very own TV? A year or so later, Dian married a TV producer and he “borrowed” the car from her to use on a series he was producing. The red T-Bird in question is the one driven by Robert Urich on the “Vegas” TV show so, if you catch one of the reruns, you’ll see the car after which I lusted so.

We now jump a few more years to a phone call from a woman lovelier than the blonde lady; lovelier even than the red T-Bird. The woman is Sharman DiVono, noted author of TV shows and books and comic books and even articles for automotive publications. It was while engaged in the last of these pursuits that Sharman met a man who had a ’57 T-Bird for sale. It was baby blue. It was fully-restored. It was on consignment from a “Celebrity Owner.” And it was very expensive. “You told me once that you wanted one,” she said. “You’ll never find a better one than this.” Sharman is invariably right about such matters so I didn’t even question that I would ever find a better T-Bird. It was Now or Never. Was I going to sink all that dough into a T-Bird or never own one for the balance of my life?

I called my shrewd accountant, C.P.A. Sharkey —the same man who plunged all my savings into a chain of Big Man’s Shops in Tokyo. He fiddled with his calculator, muttered something about partial financing and informed me that I could swing the deal IF, somehow, I could quickly raise eight thousand bucks in cash.

I got off the phone with him, mulling over that rather significantly-sized IF there. Eight thousand dollars? Didn’t seem likely…

Just then, the phone rang. It was my father calling in his official capacity of Executor of the estate of my Aunt Dot. She had died a few months earlier and now my father said, “We just finished figuring everything out and Aunt Dot left you a little over eight thousand dollars.”

So Uncle Aaron had bought me my Thunderbird, after all.

I had to get it. A coincidence like that, you don’t ignore. l am now the proud owner of a ’57 T-Bird whose one and only previous owner was Anthony Perkins. The fact that it belonged to the star of “Psycho” has had no appreciable effect on me except that, every time I sit in it, I get this uncontrollable urge to dress up as my mother. Last week’s National Enquirer had one of its famous must-read articles on how stars lost their virginity and it claims that Mr. Perkins lost his, in his car around 1962 to Victoria Principal. If the Enquirer is, by some chance, correct on this, I should probably put a commemorative plaque on my dashboard or something.

Anyway, since I enjoy my T-Bird, I figured it was the least I could do for Jay Endicott to give him one. And maybe C.P.A Sharkey can figure out some way that this makes the upkeep on it deductible. The thing drinks leaded premium gas which, out here, is obtainable only at Union-76 stations. It gets about eighty yards to the gallon which means that, when I fill up at one 76 station, I have just enough mileage to get me to the next 76 station. Still, it’s worth it… if only for this reason…

Yes, there’s more to this story. A few months ago, I had a meeting over at CBS… a whopping four blocks from my house. Usually I’d walk but I was running late so I drove the T-Bird over. The guard let me park it in the executive parking lot and I was just getting out when I heard a voice say, “Hey, great T-Bird.”

I turned and there she was: Dian from “The Price is Right.” She didn’t remember me; matter of fact, she didn’t even look at me. She was staring at the car. “I used to have one of these, she said. “But my Ex got it in the divorce. You want to sell it?”

In my iciest tone of voice, I said, “Excuse me. I see someone else I have to talk to,” whereupon I strolled off to my meeting, leaving her there to gaze longingly at the car.

Like I said, Justice Always Triumphs.

— Mark Evanier

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