Imagine Robert and Chad sleep with each other one Friday night after an evening out with the Z-Team. In the morning Robert wakes up in Chad's bed, all sleepy and cozy. He lays there for a while, until he's sure Chad is up too (the other man is pretending to still be asleep, but the change in his breathing pattern doesn't lie.)
Meanwhile Chad is practically holding his breath. He totally expected Robert to bolt as soon as he could, but... he's still here? Why did he stick around?? Now he's afraid of drawing too much attention to himself, like maybe Robert had simply spaced out and forgotten who he was lying next to. If Chad moves, the spell will be broken...
But then Robert oh-so-casually asks what time he normally starts the day on a weekend, and Chad can't help but crack open an eye to steal a look at the other man. Robert is relaxed, still under the covers and not even dressed yet. His expression is warm; a sharp contrast to the regret Chad had expected to see.
'Does this mean he plans to stay for breakfast?' Not that Chad would mind, not at all. He's a fucking gentleman! But he had figured... since this was probably just a one-time thing...
'... Unless... it doesn't have to be?'
Just as he began to answer, allowing hope to slowly fill his heart, Robert suddenly blanched.
"Oh my god! Beef!!" Said the normie, gracelessly scrambling out of bed and tossing on clothes.
"What!? What's wrong with Beef?!?" Chad hadn't fully shaken the sleep from his mind, so for a very brief moment he wondered: 'Since when did Robert have a psychic link with his dog?'
"Chase is dropping him off at my place this morning! He-- shit, I've already missed the 9am bus..." Robert struggled to put on pants for a moment before realizing they weren't his. "... Fuck it, I'll just tell him I ran out for breakfast and got caught up..."
Chad yawned, "Hold on, I'll fly you." After a quick stretch, he trudged over to his closet to pick out some fresh clothes.
"What? I can't ask you to do that, I'm on the other side of--"
"-- It's fine. Seriously. I was gonna train this morning anyway, so it works out." A lie, but again, he's a goddamn gentleman.
Robert let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, then. I owe you one."
Chad grinned, eyeing his chance. "You could just have dinner with me tomorrow, then we'd call it even."
Robert looked up from tying his shoes, blinking as a blush started to rise to his cheeks.
"Well..." he looked down again, the tips of his ears turning pink, "... I can't say I would be opposed to that."
Robert had thought he had blown his chances of seeing where this might go when he shattered their peaceful morning, but thankfully Chad seemed up to exploring things as well...
... Though they might not get the chance to, given the way Chase was glaring at them.
"Damn, who shit in his cereal?" Chad wondered aloud. "Are we super late or something?"
"Nope, we're right on time." Robert said through a tight smile, "He's just a bit early..."
(Cue Chase chewing Robert out for his choice of partner and having to watch them make googly eyes at each other from a mile away.)
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Imagine a flashback where Vlad comes to babysit young Jazz and toddler Danny, as Jack and Maddie are going to a ghost hunter convention or something. (In this AU Vlad is like their godfather/in their lives much earlier than the reunion)
Jack: Vladdy! Aw, I wish you were coming with us-- it'd be just like old times...
Maddie: Now Jack, don't give him any ideas-- he's the best sitter we've got! Seriously, thanks again for agreeing to watch the kids on such short notice, I know it's harder since we moved.
Vlad: Think nothing of it! Anything for a friend... and best of luck on your presentation, Maddie. Though I'm certain you won't be needing it.
Maddie: Oh, well, it's just something I threw together on the molecular properties of ectoplasm under theoretic interdimensional conditions.
Jack: It's gonna be great! Pretty lucky that other ghost researcher had to drop out last-minute...
Vlad: Yes. Lucky.
Jack: Oop, that's the taxi... bye kids! Love ya!
Maddie: And be good for Uncle Vlad!
As soon as the door closes Vlad's cheerful and hospitable demeanor melts away leaving his usual calculated/cunning self. He turns and starts to make a beeline for the Fenton's lab...
Jazz: Hiyah Uncle Vlad.
Danny: Vladdy!
Vlad: Ergh... hi Jasmine, Daniel.
Jazz: Where're you going?
Vlad: Ahh... your parents asked me to run some tests down in the lab. Should only be a moment--
Jazz: -- Wait!
Vlad: ???
Jazz: We haven't had breakfast yet.
Vlad: You-- *sigh* Jack, I swear-- alright, let's get you something to eat...
Vlad gives them bowls of cereal with sliced bananas and places them in front of the TV with some Saturday morning cartoons. Then he finally makes his way downstairs.
Once in the lab, he inspects the progress on the larger Ghost Portal the Fentons have been developing. It shouldn't be too hard to mess with the schematics, given Jack's sloppy handwriting... or maybe even undo the work done since his last visit...
Vlad begins to angrily rewrite notes and calculations until they are total nonsense. He crumples up blueprints and tears pages from notepads, doctoring false ones as he goes. Just as he's satisfied with the written portion and sets his sight on the machinery...
Jazz: You need to wear a jumpsuit to be in the lab.
Vlad: -- Butter biscuits! Jasmine, how long have you been standing there?!
Jazz shrugs and carefully makes her way down the stairs and towards the closet with the spare suits. She didn't roam like this in the past... Vlad will need to move more cautiously.
He opens the closet and finds... well, custom jumpsuits for Maddie and Jack. Vlad sneers; obviously neither size will fit him. Curiously he also spots two smaller suits as well-- presumably for the children. He closes the doors again with a dark expression.
Vlad: I think I've done enough testing for today. Let's go back upstairs.
Jazz: Um... o-okay.
Naturally Vlad intends to return to finish the job... he just needs the right opportunity.
Later that night he gets it-- once the kids have been put down for bed, he slips away by phasing directly into the lab from his guest room. Absolutely appalling how easy it is-- the Fentons are building a Ghost Portal but haven't installed any phase-proof technology into the walls..?! All the more reason to tear apart the portal's progress to spare the world of Jack's ineptitude.
Suddenly, a familiar scent hits his nose-- a ghost? Here?? But where...
... Upstairs?
Quickly he flies back up, just in time to see that Jazz is approaching his door with Danny in tow. Phasing back into the guest room, he messes up his hair enough to make it look like he had been sleeping before hearing her small knocks.
Vlad: *yawn* Jasmine? Is everything alright?
The ghost is upstairs, he's sure of it now. He's also willing to bet why the kids are here...
Jazz: There's... s-something... under Danny's bed...
Bingo.
Vlad walks with purpose to the kids' room, with Jazz and Danny trailing close behind. He steps inside and starts to close the door behind him.
Vlad: Do not open this door under any circumstances. I will let you know when it is safe.
Jazz and Danny nod seriously, and the door is shut.
Finally he can transform and address whomever dares to derail his plans for this evening.
Plasmius: Show yourself. Now.
Box Ghost: ~I am the Box Gho-- ack! It's you!
Plasmius: If you know who I am then you already know what I'm going to do to you if you don't leave the premises in the next five seconds.
Box Ghost: Aw, come on! All these unpacked moving boxes stashed under the beds, in the closets... this place is a cardboard gold mine!
Plasmius: Four... three...
Box Ghost: Okay okay I'm going! I'm going!!
Vlad sticks his torso through the wall and zaps the Box Ghost with a low energy ecto-beam for good measure. The ghost yelps and flies away even faster.
Suddenly an alarm begins to go off, throughout the entire house.
Vlad detransforms with an aggravated sigh and opens the door. (Seriously, an alarm system that can only sense when a ghost has expelled energy..? What use is that for detection??)
Vlad: It's safe, I made sure that scoundrel won't return. Now go back to bed. I will go and see if I can turn off this blasted alarm...
As he makes his way down the stairs, he can just barely hear the kids climbing into bed again.
Jazz: See? I told you he was scarier than the ghost..!
A new dating app has emerged, specifically targeted at duelists.
For once, it's not a KaibaCorps creation (as if Seto would ever design something so frivolous.) Still, the CEO had it downloaded on his own phone-- simply to investigate what competitors are putting out, of course-- but he had hardly used it.
When the app debuted he had created a false profile of a low rank, no-name duelist, complete with a fake profile picture. However he made sure he answered the questionnaire and wrote his profile description honestly (for accurate research.) The fake profile was just a precaution-- he mainly wanted to browse without other users knowing the Seto Kaiba was poking around a silly dating app for duelists.
The app provided compatibility scores based on users' answers and duelist rankings. Users could customize parameters for their ideal partner and the app would suggest matches with the highest compatibility.
What was interesting was that the app could also suggest "wild cards"-- users that you may not have configured your search to find or those who had been swiped on consistently. If the algorithm decided you might make a good match, it will offer up a free wild card once a week, any others would need to be purchased by a user's "love points".
What the wild card compatibility was based on, Seto didn't know; if he had to venture a guess it would probably be a combination of proximity and user interactions within the app. After all, a user might say one thing in the questionnaire, but behave differently in practice... thus the wild cards could act as a fail safe to encourage user engagement, with the added benefit of weekly data rolling in to keep things fresh.
After he had rejected all the potential matches the app had for his profile-- seriously, these random losers?-- Seto closed out of it and opted to ponder the valuable types of user data such apps could collect instead.
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Elsewhere, Katsuya wrapped up a long shift and downloaded the latest dating app out of curiosity after seeing an ad. He answered the questions and made a profile-- honestly the hardest part was overthinking which photo(s) he wanted to use-- and got to perusing his options.
Almost immediately he was bombarded with like 10-12 DM requests-- guess he didn't think he'd be that popular?? Or maybe they're just bots the app sends to every user to boost their confidence, making them think the app is doing its job... yeah that's probably it.
Katsuya rejected most requests, but did manage to send a reciprocal greeting to a few that looked real enough to have an actual person behind it.
Maybe it'll lead to something, maybe it won't... but who knows?
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Seto swiftly rejected another set of daily match suggestions. It had become part of his morning ritual-- mostly because it vexed him. The app gave him less and less suggestions with each passing day, but the user base was showing steady growth. Was it really so difficult to find a suitable match?? His answers and subsequent parameters had been more than reasonable... at least in his mind, anyway.
He had indicated he wanted someone who valued quality time, family, and the finer things in life. But they must be employed, no sugar babies.
Someone who also enjoyed travel. His idea of an ideal date? A quiet night at home together.
Someone who considered themselves to be ambitious and goal-oriented, yet also was accomplished in their own right.
Exclusivity was required. His match must be someone who wants to remain close and be devoted to him, though not too clingy.
MLM, looking for someone aged 30-35. No preference on a match's pet(s), education, or dietary needs. Must enjoy dueling, and not be a sore loser.
No strong preference on location-- he had even expanded his range at one point, as travel was no issue, but this was getting ridiculous...
Seto had sent off a complaint to customer service the other day since the app was clearly not collecting and cataloging data points accurately, thus resulting in low search returns. They had responded by basically saying he should lower his standards while searching. He told them more or less to go kick rocks.
How hard can it be to find one half-decent duelist who was loyal, dependable, trustworthy, tenacious, witty, compassionate, and family-oriented that he also found physically attractive?? What the hell is the point of this service anyway?!
Fed up, he resolved to delete the app and write a scathing review once he got home from work. Clearly this little experiment was at its end.
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Later that morning, Katsuya had gotten a new wild card suggestion.
Strange. Upon first glance he thought it was a bot account due to the low interaction rate. As in, it had none. But the account wasn't that new, and the exhaustive grocery list of prerequisites seemed a bit too human. Not realistic, mind you-- this guy sounded nuts-- but bots were usually generic and flowery whereas this was meticulous and detailed. To the point it gave more of a negative impression than a positive one... the developers wouldn't purposefully make a bot like that.
Yeesh. And they were still considered a 75% match? Just what had the algorithm seen in this guy??
The wild card in question was presented as "face down" until both users agreed to match-- meaning the app wanted you to get to know the person and their profile before revealing their photo. The idea was to give folks who may get rejected upon first glance another chance to make a match.
And, well... Katsuya did like to take chances. Plus he kind of felt sorry for the rando declaring all these qualities into the void. Maybe the guy was just socially awkward as hell and didn't even know how these dating apps typically worked. (Like how his profile indicated he was interested in only the very top duelists in the world, yet he himself was an amateur rank... that had to be a mistake.)
He bit the bullet and opened a new DM with the wild card, since the first message was free anyway.
K.J.: Hey there! Just wanted to give you a heads up that it looks like your level range is clamped to the 90th percentile.
After a beat he reluctantly spent some of his "love points" (cringe) on an additional DM to clarify.
K.J.: So, like, you're only able to see the top 10% of ranked users.
Katsuya noticed their compatibility score had increased a smidge after paying for a message, but 77% still felt way too optimistic.
He figured he won't get a response for a while-- the guy was probably at work. So he rolled out of bed and kicked off his day too.
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Evening work was finally winding down, and Seto allowed himself a brief indulgence. He glanced at the more personal notifications on his phone-- a message from Mokuba, some confirmed appointments, his chef's potential menu for the following week, and...
... Oh. A direct message from the dating app.
That was certainly different. No one had ever messaged his profile before, save for a bot here and there. And this wild card profile appeared to be genuine.
His eyes soon flicked to their compatibility score-- only 77%? Seriously?
'Well,' he supposed, 'it's better than nothing.'
He tapped to read the messages, but soon felt his eyebrow twitch in agitation.
Wild Card: Hey there! Just wanted to give you a heads up that it looks like your level range is clamped to the 90th percentile.
Wild Card: So, like, you're only able to see the top 10% of ranked users.
Jack ass. Seto typed out a swift response...
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Katsuya was at home eating dinner when he got the notification-- the wild card messaged him back!
Wild Card: I am aware of what a percentile is.
... Oookay. So this guy is just delusional. Got it.
Just as Katsuya went to reject the guy's profile, another message came through.
Wild Card: Are you seriously in the top 10%? I would have thought brains were required to reach the elite tier.
To prevent bias, exact number ranks could be hidden from view to the user's discretion. Katsuya had chosen to hide his, since being ranked 3rd in the world made it pretty obvious who he was, so instead he had chosen a range to display.
Now he wished that he hadn't so he could rub his rank in this dipshit's smug face..!!
... He won't though. There's a good chance this guy is a troll or something, and he needed to check if there's a way to report him. But for now:
K.J.: Look, I saw you had low interaction. I thought it might be cuz your pool is too narrow, and wanted to help. Now I see the only thing narrow here is your MIND.
Katsuya knew his wallet would cry later, but he couldn't help but to add:
K.J.: It's not my fault you are *literally* trying to date out of your league. How can you expect that level of excellence in a partner when you can't even deliver it yourself?
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Seto fumed momentarily before remembering his profile was, in fact, set up to be at an amateur rank.
S.K.: How do you know I can't deliver? Maybe you'll face me in a tournament soon, then we'll see who has the last laugh!
The other user took their time to type, starting and stopping every now and then.
Wild Card: I'm not laughing at you, man. And I'm not on here to find people to duel, either.
Wild Card: If you're like me and not just here to find a quick fuck, you're doing yourself a disservice by demanding perfection.
The CEO snorted.
S.K.: What is perfection to you is standard to me.
S.K.: At least I strive for self-improvement.
Wild Card: Hey, never said I didn't have my own stuff I'm working on. All I'm trying to say is that a dragon that waits to catch the perfect wind will never soar.
Seto furrowed his brow at the weird turn of phrase.
S.K.: ... I'm pretty sure that saying orginally refers to a bird.
Wild Card: Yeahhh, but someone I know says it that way, and I like it better. Anyways I gotta sign off, I've run out of LP. Best of luck and have a nice life!
He considered the message for a moment, before finally sending:
S.K.: If we match it won't cost LP.
He didn't really know why he sent it, this wasn't a love connection. Maybe it's just because the guy is literally the only other person who has interacted with him. Maybe he just enjoyed the banter, or the thrill of knowing something this other duelist didn't know?
Or maybe it was because the conversation felt like it was getting easier? Seto imagined it was similar to when one spoke with a close friend... if he had any of those. (And no, Yugi and his dork brigade didn't count.)
He waited, but the wild card user didn't match with him...
So he waited some more...
...
...
Then he did something even more impulsive.
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Katsuya sent his last message and closed out of the app to finish his dinner, vowing to not look at the bill until tomorrow to avoid wrecking his mood. He wouldn't report the wild card as a troll... the guy just seemed to have a chip on his shoulder or something. And an ego the size of KaibaCorps HQ.
His mind conjured an image of the mystery user arguing with Kaiba himself-- those two going head-to-head would be legendary for the verbal spats alone, regardless of how the wild card could play. He laughed to himself.
He also knew not to completely underestimate an opponent who declared their dream to be a great duelist... after all, everyone had to start from the bottom at some point, himself included.
Suddenly a new notification caught his eye-- oh, it looks like he had missed two...
... Wait.
WHAT?!?
Did that wild card actually just send him 4000 LP?!?!?
Katsuya knew gifting love points was a feature available to anyone who wanted to chat with a potential match for a bit longer. Most people avoided losing LP by just matching, or straight up moving their conversation out of the app entirely. The folks who usually gifted LP were those looking to flaunt their wealth... but this guy had said he didn't want a sugar baby?? (and Katsuya was NOT trying to be one.)
He needed to set some things straight with this walking mass of contradictions, stat.
K.J.: Hey, sorry, I didn't see your message. Did you mean to send me 4000 LP??
Wild Card: You said you were running low.
Wild Card: You don't need to match if you don't want to. Just wanted to continue conversing.
K.J.: You realize 4000 LP is $500??
Wild Card: I don't mind, especially if you end up spending it all in one place.
Katsuya huffed. He wasn't sure if that was was flirting or not, given their previous conversation. This guy clearly had cash to burn, so it was unclear how big of a deal $500-worth of potental DMs was in this context.
K.J.: While I appreciate the sentiment, I want to be absolutely clear that I do not need nor do I want your charity.
Wild Card: It isn't charity. I've donated to charities before-- this was entirely selfish on my part.
K.J.: One might argue that donating to charities is also a selfish act.
Wild Card: How so?
K.J.: Depends on where it's coming from-- like, are you doing it out the goodness of your heart, or because it makes YOU feel good? There's a difference.
He thought for a moment before adding:
K.J.: I'm not anyone's charity case.
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Seto was, admittedly, excited when the wild card started to respond again. He also learned something new about this guy-- he was weird about accepting gifts.
S.K.: I apologize if the gesture made you uncomfortable.
S.K.: I won't do it again unless you ask me.
'Please don't hesitate to ask.' He had wanted to add, but refrained. What the heck was wrong with him tonight??
Wild Card: Thank you.
Wild Card: ... and just so you're aware for next time, you usually only send LP to potential sugar babies.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
He typed a response as fast as humanly possible.
S.K.: That was *definitely* not my intent.
Wild Card: I figured as much, haha. So you're new to this, I assume?
While Seto hated having his shortcomings on full display, there was no way to bluff his way out of it now.
S.K.: Yes. That obvious?
Wild Card: A bit. No worries though! We all have to start somewhere.
Seto shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable with being handled so patiently.
Wild Card: I have to at least give this to you-- you seem to know exactly what you want. A lot of folks who come on here don't have a clue, which is totally fine too.
S.K.: "A lost soul often looks for another lost soul."
Wild Card: I don't think they'd appreciate being called lost souls, tbh...
"They", not "I"...
S.K.: What about you? What are you looking for?
Wild Card: Like you, something serious.
Wild Card: Unlike you, something based in reality.
Seto snorted again.
S.K.: I'm not afraid to dream big when it produces big results.
Wild Card: That reminds me, you have a long way to go before you ever face me in a duel.
Wild Card: But when we do eventually cross paths? Don't think for a second I'll go easy on you and your "big dreams" just cuz you once tried to seduce me with virtual coin!
Seto allowed himself a small grin.
S.K.: I would expect nothing less.
His thumb hovered for a moment before sending his next message. It was brazen, but dammit, he was Seto Kaiba. Nothing ventured, nothing gained...
S.K.: Could we talk again some time? I'd like to clear my name and make an honest attempt at seducing you.
The typing symbol for the wild card didn't appear for a long while. Seto didn't even realize he was holding his breath until a message came through.
Wild Card: Woah there, Casanova. Did you even get a chance to read my profile yet?
S.K.: It's as you said-- I know what I like.
No reply. He switched to another tactic.
S.K.: I have a proposition. Let's say we continue to chat and get to know each other a bit.
S.K.: If by the time you run out of LP you feel at all inclined towards me, we'll match and continue wherever we left off.
S.K.: If not, I'll take the hint with grace and never DM you again.
S.K.: I won't send additional LP, unless requested in the event you're unsure. And of course there's no reason you can't use the LP to talk to other people as well in the mean time.
S.K.: So... what do you think?
Another agonizing wait...
... until, finally:
Wild Card: I guess it *would* be a shame to let the LP go to waste.
Wild Card: I look forward to you giving me your best shot! And I'll give you my honest attention as well.
S.K.: Excellent, then I'll contact you tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening.
Megatron: Not to be a flirt, but sometimes I think I see Primus in you.
Optimus: Bold words, coming from an atheist.
Megatron: Agnostic. I can buy there's a large, well-meaning spark at the center of the planet, but being the biggest doesn't mean they automatically ought to be worshipped.
Optimus: Right, and their ability to create life and whole precognition thing... just a neat little party trick?
Megatron: Hm. Well, I can't be sure how accurate your internal "fortune teller" is, but I know of another way to create life. It's not so impressive.
Optimus: Oh? Is it not? That's too bad, my condolences.
Megatron: *snort* I assure you, I take care to excel in all that I set out to do.
Optimus: Perhaps, except when you cannot. I see now why you might be so concerned in regards to matters of "size". Primus is supposed to be perfect, after all...
Megatron: I take it back, you're as ruthless as the Unmaker. And I'm confident in my assets.
Optimus: Another bold declaration! Have you been drinking tonight?
Megatron: Not enough to say what I wish to say in front of decent company.
Optimus (leaning in): And what might that be?
Megatron: Ah ah ah! It will take more than pretty optics to loosen my tongue.
Optimus: Hmm... I know of another way to loosen one's tongue, if you're keen to try. I believe you'll find it quite impressive.
Megatron: Is that so? Then perhaps we ought to retire for the night.
Optimus (whispered): Let's find out how you'll sound with a little Primus in you...
Bruce: Hey. Can I ask you something? Not about the case, something... personal.
Kate: Yeah, sure.
Bruce: ... When you came out, did everything change? Or was it mostly the same, afterwards?
Kate: Some things changed, but not everything. Though, it kind of depends on the person. Sometimes a person leaves their closet behind, and decides to renovate the entire house... for others, it's as significant but ultimately inconsequential as flipping on a light switch.
Bruce: ... Hm.
Kate: Look, at the end of the day, whoever Tim decides to be, you'll love him no matter what, right?
Bruce: Yes, of course.
Kate: Then that's enough, so don't stress about it! Just be open to changes while he figures himself out, and be supportive. And don't treat him any differently unless he asks you to.
Bruce: Alright... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you.
Bruce: ...
Bruce: ... But, ah... I wasn't actually talking about Tim.
Kate: Wait, then who are you talking about?
Bruce: ...
Kate: ... Bruce?
Bruce: Kate...
Bruce: ... I fear that I may be in love with a close friend of mine.
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Flambert Idea... Robert Gets Pursued by a Toxic Ex
Dawg this ship is one of the biggest fumbles I've seen a game dev make in a while. Lmao this video sums it up perfectly imo... like you accidentally created an excellent set up and didn't execute it... damn.
Anyways imagine Robert (since he can't go to the heroes-only bar anymore) hits up a staple queer club in town in his civvies. There he runs into a toxic ex who is a little too happy to see him there. Robert was hoping to hook up with someone tonight-- ideally a total stranger-- but the ex basically follows him around, bugging him to go dance and monopolizing his time. He relents and decides to hit the dancefloor. Eventually he bails on the guy to go order a drink, slipping away through the crowd.
He manages to make it up to the bartender, but just as he gets their attention someone else begins to order next to him-- it's Flambae! Or rather, Chad, since he's also out of costume. After Chad places his order, Robert manages to say something about being next in line which gets the other man's attention. Chad seems genuinely surprised, and asks Robert what he's doing here. Robert throws the question back at him-- figured he'd be at the other bar since, you know, he's allowed to be there now. Chad acknowledges that it's great feeling like he's part of some exclusive club or whatever, but it can also cramp his style-- the vibe is too... hetero.
Just then the toxic ex slings an arm around Robert, asking to be introduced to his friend. In unison, Chad and Robert deny they're friends. Robert clarifies they're just colleagues. Toxic ex tries to make small talk but Chad isn't interested in continuing the conversation and rudely excuses himself. Ex says something about how he can see why they're not friends, that guy's a prick! Oh and by the way here's your drink...
Robert notes that he hadn't ordered yet, but ex says he still remembers what he likes. Robert takes the drink and notices it is the order he usually gets. Whatever... looks like he won't be getting lucky tonight, but a drink's a drink. He settles into a booth to nurse his cocktail, watching people dance and making tedious small talk with the ex. He accidentally spots Chad in the crowd and stares just a little too long; the other man catches him looking. He makes an effort to grind obscenely on the guy he's dancing with while flipping Robert the bird, and Robert just rolls his eyes.
Suddenly, the room spins. Robert feels his motor functions begin to delay and delay and delay until they are slowed down to a crawl. The ex asks if he's feeling alright, and as his consciousness starts to come and go in waves, the panic sets in. Robert realizes he's been drugged.
Stumbling, Robert summons all his remaining strength to make his way to the nearby bathroom. He needs water, he needs air, he needs to get away from here, he needs to do something. At this point he doesn't know who might have drugged him-- could it be one of the villain groups they've been working to hunt down? Did they learn who he was?? Was there anyone else in the club he hadn't clocked???-- but he can hardly think straight.
His ex follows close behind, worrying over him. When Robert's legs give out and he collapses to the bathroom floor, his ex tries to move him, saying something about how he's always been such a lightweight and that they should head back home. But Robert doesn't want to go. His instincts are screaming at him to push the guy away, he can't trust anyone right now, but his body doesn't respond-- instead it's shutting down.
All of a sudden the bathroom door flies open. Robert can't see who it is, but he thinks one of the voices that just arrived sounds familiar. He keeps slipping in and out of consciousness, so he doesn't get the full picture of what's going on. At some point a scuffle breaks out, resulting in bouncers dragging his ex out of the bathroom. The last thing Robert can sense is getting collected by someone very warm, too warm, before he blacks out completely.
When Robert finally comes to, he slowly blinks his bleary eyes and realizes he doesn't recognize the room he is in. Immediately alarm bells are ringing in his head, and he quickly takes in his surroundings. He's laying on a couch, no light save for what comes from the windows, in what looks to be... a living room? The shift to intense focus causes a migraine to flare up and he groans, which gets the attention of the only other figure in the room... Chad.
Chad remarks that he's finally awake, and asks if he remembers what happened. Robert admits not really, other than the fact he was definitely drugged... he might be a lightweight but not that light. Did Chad see who might have done it? Were there villains at the club that night? But Chad reveals the culprit was none other than that creep that had been hanging off him all night-- Robert's toxic ex.
Robert is... shocked. He knew the guy wasn't the best-- they broke up for a reason-- but he could never have anticipated that he would go so far. Chad reprimands him for his shitty taste in men, and Robert can't defend himself there. Instead he thanks Chad for stepping in when he did, and for bringing him back to... uh... where are they, exactly? Obviously, says Chad, he brought him to his own apartment. Where else was he gonna go??
Robert flushes, suddenly super uncomfortable to be intruding in Flambae's space like this, of all people. He thanks him again and moves to take his leave, but Chad suggests he just spends the night there since it's already so late. He was only staying awake to make sure Robert wasn't gonna, like, wake up screaming or choke on his own vomit or something... but now Chad is headed to bed. Reluctantly, Robert agrees to crash there for a bit, but he'll have to head out early to take care of Beef in the morning. Chad yawns-- whatever, bitch. You can do what you want, but you'd better call a fuckin' Uber cuz I'm not flying your flat ass all the way home at the crack of fucking dawn.
Oh, Robert suddenly realizes, that's right. Flambae most likely flew them here... oh god, he was carrying him, wasn't he? Fuuuck he's never gonna live this night down...
Bonus: a POV from Chad that shows him flying with Robert. He complains the whole time, but not in any serious sort of way, more of a 'are you kidding me right now?? do you know how worried I was when I saw you stumbling and that fugly creep tried to follow?? how dare you wreck my night and make me give a shit about you!' kind of way. Robert stirs briefly-- it's not a moment he will ultimately remember-- and starts to squirm/fight off Chad while they're flying. But once he realizes it's Flambae and not someone else, he settles down/passes out again. Chad doesn't know how to feel about that... does that mean Robert feels safe around him? And isn't that an odd feeling... because he hasn't exactly gotten used to feeling like a hero yet...
(Idk if this is pre- or post- the Mecha reveal, up to you lol)
Take My Pulse (Hold My Heart) - in which Flambae pushes his powers further than he ever has before...
Depending on how you want to pretend Flambae's pyrokinesis works, it would be neat to see him develop additional skillsets.
Namely this got me thinking about how fire/flame is mainly heated gases, and that the Astral Pulse appears to be some sort of plasma-based energy source. Plasma is pretty much a super-duper-heated gas... basically a fire that's so hot it's a different form of matter...
Now this AU may be out of left field-- considering I'm not so sure Flambae as he appears in the canon would have the training necessary to master plasma manipulation-- but play in my sandbox for a bit... what if while Royd was developing the new Proto Pulse, Flambae happens to wander into the lab? (In my head this would be after a failed test that exploded in Royd and Robert's faces, so he's sort of checking up on the dispatcher he's secretly crushing on haha...)
Imagine he's walking around, inspecting the damage and making his typical quips. Eventually he spots the latest iteration of the Proto Pulse, and Royd/Robert warn him to not mess around with it because it's a super important part of the suit. But Flambae ignores them, instead he glares at the pulse and all the tech hooked up to it, getting closer and closer...
Just as Royd/Robert are running up to keep him away, Flambae mentions something is off about the thing.
"It's hiccuping." He says with a frown.
"Hiccuping." Robert repeats, like it would somehow help him make sense of the statement. (It does not.)
"What do you mean?" Asks Royd.
"Like, it's got a stutter worse than Wet Wipe." Flambae explains, "Reminds me of when an engine turns over but ignition gets interrupted for whatever reason. Just sorta limps along like a lame bitch."
"How can you tell?" Asks Robert.
Flambae shrugs. "I just can. Whatever super-hot energy you've got in there follows a pattern similar to flames, though it's obviously some next-level shit." He frowns again, "The way it switches up is so extreme... I wouldn't let that thing power a toaster, much less your fancy fuckin' suit."
'I don't want you getting hurt again...'
Royd and Robert exchange a look before the engineer speaks again, "... Do you think you could level it out?"
Flambae visibly starts at the question before having to look away from their hopeful faces. "... I, uh..."
"Please, Chad." Says Robert with his stupid, sad brown eyes, "If there's anything you can do that you think might help... we'd really appreciate it."
Chad considers for a moment before rolling his shoulders and sighing deeply.
"... Okay. Fine. I'll try to... fuckin', tame this thing, or whatever. Get it to stop sounding so fucking weird..." He points at them for emphasis, "But you will not be rushing me. I'll have to come in a bunch after work just to feel things out and get familiar with it. Volatile shit like this is hard to manipulate, and I'd like to keep the rest of my fucking fingers."
Robert grabs hold of the hand Chad is using to point. "Thank you. Seriously..."
"Yeah, yeah." Flambae snatches his hand back and turns to block them from seeing him blush, "It's not like I'll be able to control it while you're in battle, though... so... you'd better have a solution for that..."
"Aw, you don't wanna be strapped to the suit in a baby sling?"
"Fuck no." 'But I'd still follow you into battle.'
"I hear you." Says Royd, "Tell you what, we'll keep everything hooked up while you run your tests. Once we get readings on how the pulse is meant to behave, I'll look into recalibrating the electromagnetic containment field to capture it at the sweet spot... deal?"
I'm just so soft for Flambae, and the HCs that he's good with kids.
Which got me thinking... what if a kid's latent pyrokinetic powers suddenly manifested and grew wildly out of control because they were panicked/scared? For a place like SoCal where fires can spread quickly, this becomes a huge problem; obviously it catches the attention of the local news almost immediately.
The Z-Team watches the situation unfold while on a lunch break. Some heroes arrive on the scene but are of little help. One does manage to temporarily clear a path for the others, which gives the heroes (and viewers of the broadcast) their first real glimpse at the culprit-- it's a kid. A kid who is clearly freaking the fuck out.
The sight tugs at Chad's heartstrings... he remembers the pandemonium that ensued when he discovered his own powers. His lunch hour is nearly done, but he can't look away. 'Why are those heroes focusing on doing damage control instead of helping the kid stop the flames?' He thinks to himself, 'Why does it feel like they're clearing the way for an attack..??'
Apparently he said the latter part out loud, because the next thing he hears is Robert's confirmation: "Because that's exactly what they're doing..."
Some Z-Team members express their outrage at the heroes' approach at the scene. Flambae turns to look at their dispatcher, who looks as frustrated as they all feel. That expression solidifies Chad's resolve.
"Robbo, do me a favor-- tell them I'm headed over there. I'm going to try talking to that kid."
Robert tears his eyes from the screen in the breakroom just long enough to assess his conviction, then nods and goes back to his desk to make the call. Flambae wastes no time running out the door and taking flight before the higher-ups can try to stop him from deserting mid-shift. (The gathered Z-Team cheers for him, though.)
Some of the heroes on the scene act territorial upon his arrival, butting heads with Flambae to get him to back off their assignment. But thankfully-- before Chad could really start hurling insults or fists-- one of them has enough sense to make their teammates to stand down. They want to give him a chance to at least try to de-escalate the situation, since their methods haven't worked so far. Seeing as that was the closest thing to a blessing as he was going to get, Chad elbows past the heroes and gets to work.
He first starts by familiarizing himself with the flames already present. Feeling his way through the chaos, he slowly and methodically begins to fold the unfamiliar flames into his own so he can bend them to his will. As he walks closer towards his target, he is able to dampen or even completely snuff out the flames furthest from the source, making the scale more manageable. Still, once he reaches the epicenter he knows it's too dangerous to wrestle full control from a scared and inexperienced pyrokinetic... the kid has to work with him.
So Flambae starts talking.
"Hey... hey, kid!"
"I'm sorry!" The kid sobs, "I don't know how to make it stop!"
"... What's your name?"
"Quinn!"
"Alright, Quinn. I'm gonna get a little closer to you..."
"... W-wait!" The flames flare up briefly, but Flambae patiently resists them and continues to move forward. "How did you...?"
"I am Flambae. I control the fire and the flame, and my skin does not burn." Finally he stands in front of the kid. "So... you wanna tell me what's going on?"
"I didn't mean to..." Quinn takes a stuttering breath, "Keith was being mean so I pushed him, b-but it wasn't just a push. I... I burned him... s-so I ran away, but it won't stop! I don't know what to do...!"
"Hmm..." Flambae pretends to consider for a moment, "... sounds like this Kevin guy is an asshole."
"Wh... what?"
Robert (over comms): Flambae...
"I'm just saying," Chad says to both Quinn and the dispatcher, "maybe Kyle deserved to be burned. Teach him not to fuck with you."
Robert: Yeah let's maybe not encourage burning people when all our calls are recorded...
Quinn is quiet for a moment before they reply. "... His name is Keith. I know I shouldn't have pushed him-- I'm not supposed to start fights-- but... argh! He just makes me so mad!!" The flames climb higher. Quinn, though noticeably less panicked, begins to cry hot, angry tears, "... This sucks."
"Trust me, I know that feeling."
Robert: Flambae, the heroes are mobilizing again. You need to wrap this up...
"So is this the first time using your powers?" He asks instead of responding to Robert. Quinn nods miserably. "Okay. It probably feels super overwhelming right now, but let's try something. Give me your hands..."
Quinn holds up their hands to meet Flambae's, noticing his missing fingers. "Oh. What happened...?"
"Ahh... I had a sucky day too. A lot of days, actually." He pauses before deciding to add, "Mecha Man helped me, though."
Quinn gasps, "You've met Mecha Man?!"
"Oh-ho yeah, I've run into both the Mecha and the Man. You know that guy practically lives off junk food? Don't be like him, alright? Eat your vegetables."
Robert: *snorts*
Quinn giggles as their fingers intertwine.
"... Now what?"
"For most Elementals, emotions are the key to controlling our power. I want you to take some calming breaths with me. Close your eyes, and try to focus on where your flames end and mine begin..."
Chad inhales deeply, guiding Quinn to stretch their arms out wide, then exhales slowly while lowering their arms closer together. He also guides some of the flames around them, pushing and pulling in tandem with their breaths. Over and over they repeat this pattern, when suddenly his comms crackle to life.
Robert: Bought you some more time with the heroes, so keep it up... it looks like it's working.
"You feel that? The way the flame gets big then small?" Chad asks, watching Quinn's eyes blink open. "In and out, like the water at the beach..."
"Yeah... I think so. Does that mean you can put it out now?"
Flambae shakes his head, "I could probably force it, buuut I want you to snuff it. That way you'll know what to do whenever you flare up again." He steps back, gently untangling their hands as Quinn makes an uncertain sound. "Hey, don't worry, I'll be right here. Now... imagine the flames getting smaller with every breath, and show this bitch-ass fire who's boss!"
While the kid continues their breathing exercise solo, Flambae gradually releases his control over the flames. The big fire surrounding them pulses in time with their breaths, getting smaller and smaller, and the other heroes jump in to douse any residual ones that were missed. Finally, the fire is completely extinguished.
"You did it! I mean, obviously, I knew you could, you had me as a teacher after a--" Quinn throws their arms around him in a tight hug, "-- oh."
"Thank you, Mr. Flambae."
"Aww, pfft, it's nothing. Just doing my job. You know... as a hero, or whatever..." he pats them awkwardly on the back, not used to the genuine praise. "I mean, when my powers first manifested I burned down three square blocks. So, like... all things considered, it's not too bad..."
Robert: Great job, Flambae. Time to head back to base.
The praise from Robert causes any other nervous ramblings to die on his lips, sparing himself from further embarrassment.
One of the other heroes approaches-- the one who had suggested they try Flambae's method-- with power-dampening handcuffs. They explain Quinn will need to wear them while they get everything sorted/get them registered as a super. The kid agrees, but it still feels weird for Flambae to see them in cuffs. He mentions as much to Robert later while flying back.
Robert: Yeah, I hear you. But they'll get access to all sorts of programs to help develop their powers. The dampeners aren't just for public safety, but theirs as well... at least until they can handle fire responsibly.
"I guess..."
Robert: Speaking of handling things responsibly, Mandy is kind of mad you flew off without clearance.
"Are you fucking shitting me?! Did she not see how those chucklefucks on the scene were--"
Robert: -- Oh for sure, she gets it. Doesn't mean she didn't get chewed out by HQ, though. Which mean you're in for an earful when you get back.
"Ughhh. Do me a favor--"
Robert: Another one?
"-- give me a mission that's super far away. I can't deal with that bullshit right now. Fuck, I'll even unclog storm drains again..."
Robert: No-can-do. But I've got a cat stuck in a tree in Zone 2 if you're up for it.
