#<- the best buds will always be my duo name for them

[solbellaria]

Only man more obsessed with Joel than Etho and the big man himself is Jimmy Solidarity, he is not normal about Joel in any capacity and we love him for that

[thefandomdirtymind]

Shiny offering

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji Series - NSFW The small favor

A/N IMPORTANT: I am the little weirdo who's like crows and though that a pirate with a crow would be really cool. So, I'm really sorry if you're scare of bird, but I hope you will find the story funny because I have a lot of fun with it and my new obsession for this man.

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

If you enjoy my story please let me know.

---

Sanji never had a particular interest in birds. At least not living ones. Once featherless, beheaded and ready to be cooked. He, of course, has a lot of thoughts and recipes about how to prepare them, each idea more delicious than the other. 

But, as the Crow expanded his wings and flew above him for the fifth time that day. He started to wonder if the black bird meat would taste more like chicken and then, be better in a rotisserie kind of dish, or would it be surprisingly more delicate, like the duck. 

A mystery he would probably never know even if he could. Or if he did, not with this precise bird. Because, even if the blond never had a thought about the feathered animal, he has a lot of interest in you and, as irritating as it is, your crow seems to dislike him as much as Zoro does. 

He didn’t attack him directly of course, you would never let this happen. 

Yet, if Sanji is too close to you when you're all on the deck or if you share a moment alone with the cook. The damn winged dinosaur never missed a beat stealing his, lite or not, cigarette that was in his hand or between his lips.

The bird has often even tried to take his ring, but, to this day, never succeeded. However his favorite target was his blonde hair. Golden straw that he could pick few at the time between his beck before flying away as quickly as he could. 

Everytime, as you tried without success to not laugh. Biting your lips in that charming way he liked so much. You assure him that Deimos didn’t really hate him, he was  just a little bit too protective or attracted to the shiny thing on his person. Like humans he needs time to adjust to new people. 

“ I understand Madam, but I don’t see stealing Zoro shinny earring neither and that be a show I would love to see “ He once replied, trying to repress the bitterness in his tone, massaging the sore spot on his head where Deimos had took three of his hair.

“Well, Zoro didn’t have hair similar to pretty rays of sunshine, that’s for sure and I honestly don’t know, they seem to already be best buddy that kinda funny “ You said, your gaze fixed on the strange duo that was Zoro and your pet, napping in a hammock between two Tangerine trees. 

“ That because they have something in common, they both hate me that’s why” 

“ You know, Crows love to collect things who shine and offer them to their partner or their favorite human. Once a crow trusts you, he or his children never forget you, they have a memory that they extend to their children for generations and they will always return to you. It’s amazing”  

“ Then Madam it seem that I will be hate for generation “       

It has been almost five months now that you were a member of the crew and the relentless animal didn’t stop. Although, Sanji couldn’t forget that conversation that you had about those damn birds offering shining things to the person they affectionate. The way you smiled, the gleam in your eyes as if you were sharing that fun fact like if it was a romantic story. Even if it was an anodin moment, he couldn’t forget how perfect you were. Relax, your arm crossed on the railing of the upper deck in the soft light of the morning. 

It wasn’t a secret that the blondie fell for you at the minute that he saw you. He had tried to flirt as much as he could, challenged your taste buds by making you his best dishes and even switched his generic “Madam” for a warmer nickname “ mon coeur”. A sweet name he uses, usually as often as he calls himself the Best Cook of the East blue. 

“ Mon coeur, do you want a kind of food in particular for supper ?” 

“ Be careful Mon coeur, the tea is hot” 

“ You see Mon coeur, one day I will see the All Blue and I will explore it with you ”  

But, nothing had seemed to enlighten your comprehension about his intention. Of course, a more direct approach would give him an immediate answer, still, like in his cooking, Sanji liked a more slow and progressive approche.

It was when thinking about his next move that the strange event occurred.

Busy in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for his famous beef stew, the man suddenly heard a metallic noise, like a utensil falling on the floor. As a chef, it wasn't uncommon, but since he was alone in the room and all his instruments were in front of him, it was indeed, really strange. It was only after his gaze had scanned the room that he finally saw it. 

Perched on the side of the table, under the open window, the dark bird, a spoon in his beck, was watching the floor where a solitary fork was laying.

“ Oh no sir, this place is my domain you will not ruin it, get out” He exclaimed, not without thinking of how ridiculous he must look, talking at this bird like if he was a rude client of the Baratie.

For answer, Deimos only croak once, jumps between two potatoes just in front of him, turns his onyx head on the side and then, under the blue glare of the men, drops the polished spoon. 

The eating tool in itself wasn’t really special, unless the fact that it had been lost two weeks ago, along the fallen fork of course.   

“ Oh so now you steal my utensil. My hair and my smoke wasn’t enough ?” Sanji sighs before reaching for the discarded silver instrument. 

For answer, the crow slowly approached his head to the metallic object and started to admire his own smaller reflection before taking his fly, exiting the kitchen.

Coming back after less than five minutes later, this time with a shimmering shell and one of Nami small hair clips. Same as the spoon, he gently drops them in front of the blonde man, tilling his head, like he is waiting for something.

Like said before, Sanji never had a soft spot for birds, but he had a fond memory of that conversation with you about the way they express their affection. So, little by little, as he watched one by one the glittery, polish, shimmery stuff your crow just bought him, two realizations struck him. First, the damn feathers dinosaur has finally taken a liking for him and second he finally knew how to show you how dear you are in his eyes. 

“ Well, I almost regret now that I imagine you many times in my oven. I admit that you don't seem that bad alive now…thank you” Sanji smiled, putting the stew on the stove, letting it cook and before starting collecting the item for his new plan.   

It was only a long time after dinner that he could put his said plan in action. With a little help from his now winged friend.

As the Going Merry was lazily crossing the water, Sanji was still again in the kitchen, preparing diverse elements. To citrus marinade for supper the next day, to dry leaf for future recipes.  

Nevertheless, he was ready when the flap of the wing followed by footsteps could be heard near his area.  

Deimos was the first to enter the kitchen, taking his now usual place in the left corner of the kitchen island, your bracelet still on his beck. Close by a few steps, you enter at his pursuit, stopping only when you seen the strange show that was the gorgeous chef ,slowly busy pressing a lemon and your large pet, sharing the same space without apparent bickering.

“ Hi Sanji, sorry to barge in there like that. Deimos feels apparently playful today, he stole my bracelet. But look at you both, you finally bound as I can see” You joyfully said, taking a seat in front of the kitchen island. 

“ Hello Mon coeur, well as you can see we came to an arrangement if I can call it that. " Sanji replied, pulling an almond from his pocket and giving it to the bird as he rescued your bracelet “ But I’m grateful that he bring you here now, I also had something for you, a special dessert”  

Turning his back from you for a minute, missing the long glance you give to his perfect ass in his tailored pants, you smile. You weren't stupid, in fact, you were particularly smart. Even if you didn’t understand why Usopp had taken a habit of joking about the fact that you seem blind to love. 

You had noticed the blonde chef the first day on this boat and since then, had developpe what Nami had called a “crush” on him. What’s not love about him ? You like the way he calls you Mon coeur making yours fluster, the way his smile reaches his eyes every time he talks about food and of course the fact that he was always so kind with you. But never you would push those thoughts on him, no, it seems that all his love was for food and as long as you live you will respect that.

The first thing you saw after the blondie had put the bowl in front of you was the beauty of the presentation. Served in a plain white bowl, a delicate pale lilac ice cream was piled, decorated with colorful berries that automatically make your mouth water.

However it wasn’t the berries who’s most caught your eyes. Coating there the side of a raspberry, there in a few pieces the side of the cold cream, there floating lazily like if it were on a river, small gold flakes was highlighting the sweet, giving it the allure of a masterpiece. 

“ Homemade lavender ice cream with berries assorted with flakes of edible gold “ Sanji proudly present, your favorite smile on his lips. “ I had the idea when we were talking about crows and their habit of giving their partner or…favorite person…shiny things” He lied. Never would he admit to you that your bird, trying to fancy him, gave him the idea.  Never on his chef corpse.

“ Sanji, that’s almost too beautiful to eat. The colors, the sweet smell , the…glittery gold” You admiratively said, your joy suddenly catching up with the realization of what he had just said. 

You were his favorite person. 

Lifting at the same time your gaze and the spoon, you take a small amount of the ice cream and taste his declaration of love. 

Just like him it was amazing. Sweet, refreshing and addictive. 

“ So...is that to your liking ? “ He inquired after a small moment, unsure if you taken your time to enjoy the dessert or trying to find a delicate way to put him down. 

“ It’s the best thing I ever tasted, here take a bite “ You offer, lifting the silverware at the level of his mouth. 

Taking your offering, your gaze lock on each other, you both couldn’t repress your smile as he let slip the head of the spoon out of his mouth. 

“ Definitely one of my be…” He couldn’t finish. 

His tie caught on your fist, his torso inclined and supported by his strong arms above the kitchen island. Your cold lips had suddenly crashed against his, taking him off guard and at the same time his breath away. 

Sanji, still ,quickly catch up. Adjusting his position to support the back of your head with one of his hands. He slightly brushes his tongues against your sugary lips, savoring them like a peculiar delicacy. But, as your tongue met, exploring and dancing against each other in a french ritual. He became more and more greedy of your lips, throwing away his usual self control at the first hearing of your panting breath. 

Still trapped in the warm embrace of his lips, enjoying the contrast of his warm tongue against your ice cream cold one, you suddenly heard a groan pronounced by none of you. 

“ Great, now the waiter will stop looking like a love sick puppy. But did you really have to expose us to that ?”

Breaking the kiss, you gave a glance at the door where Zoro, his arm crossed on his chest, was rolling his eyes, clearly already done with both of you. 

Biting your lips of embarrassment you still couldn’t prevented, neither Sanji at it seem, to smile. 

“ Nevermind. Come on black chicken “ He calls your bird, who, now used to it ,goes perch himself on one of his shoulders. Before quitting the doorframe to disappear into the ship “ I have to clean my blade and I know they are not clean enough until you watch your reflection in it. “ 

Laughing at the incongruous friendship of the Swordsman and your pet. You returned your attention to Sanji, another tea spoon of ice cream in his hand.

“I’m sorry” You apologize, still laughing. 

“ No need to be embarrassed Mon coeur “ He smile, regaining as it seem, his composure

“ No, I mean, now I don’t know what I prefer between the dessert or your kisses “ 

Taken aback, Sanji slowly smiles, deposing a small kiss on your lips. 

“ Then why not enjoy them both together…I will gladly supply it every time you ask for it”

Smiling you then proceeded to enjoy the delicious cold dessert and the body warm contrast for the rest of the day and more.  

Bonus : 

Not that Sanji was ashamed to tell you, no. But, even after a year after the event of the offering silverware et other shiny knick-knacks.

He still had, hide behind a pile of pots, the many items brought to him, along the years, by Deimos. Because, even after all this, he was still the reason why you were finally in his arms at night and yes, he had to admit it, he had kind of come to like it, that damn bird. 

[sc0tters]

Helping Hand | Mat Barzal

summary: Mat’s son meets his next door neighbour and quickly befriends her, what happens when Mat falls for her much like she does for him?

trope: single dad

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.64k

authors note: I asked who got the child and you requested Mat so here he is as a dad! We are going to act like Tito was never traded because this piece isn’t dated but I miss him as an Islander. If you want to check out the rest of the celly you can do so here!

It had been the longest day of your life.

All you wanted to do was run yourself a bubble bath as you went to sleep for an early night. That was why when you stood in the elevator your couldn’t help but smile as some kid stared up at you.

Your mother always said that when a child stared at you for just being you it was a compliment because clearly you were pretty “I like your croc,” you pointed to the child’s stuffed animal that he held on to for dear life.

His nanny couldn’t help but smile as you crouched down to talk to him “what’s his name?” You added as you saw that your floor was still another thirty away.

Drew held the crocodile out so that he could place it on your hands “that’s Danny and I’m Drew,” he introduced himself as he sent you a gummy grin that was due to his two front teeth missing.

You pretended to study the teddy as you nodded along with what he was saying “I’m y/n,” your introduction was more so to the lady that was with him “Agatha.” She nodded as she let the two of you get back to your conversation.

By the time the elevator doors opened you knew all of Drew’s favourite facts about himself, his favourite colour was blue, he likes horses. Chicken nuggets and fries are his favourite food but his dad doesn’t let him eat it that often. The part that probably made your heart warm was that the young boy sang his fathers praises as he made it clear that his dad was a cool dude “you promise you’ll come meet my dad soon?” Drew asked as you walked them to their door realising that he was actually your neighbour.

You nodded as you held your pinky out “I promise,” his small finger locked itself around yours and you had to resist the urge to aww at the sight “have a good day you two.” You added as you softly ruffled the boys hair eliciting a laugh from his lips.

The duo watched you make your way down the hall “bye y/n!” Drew called out as he waved before he walked into his apartment.

The young boy played on your mind for the entirety of the next day so when you were back in the hallway walking to your apartment and you came across Danny who seemed to have been dropped on the floor you knew what you had to do.

It wasn’t often that you got yourself involved in other people’s business but after listening to Drew highlight the importance of this stuffed animal you knew he’d appreciate it “you are not the postman.” Mat blurted out as he opened the door to be met with your empty hands.

You sucked at your bottom lip as you furrowed your eyebrows “you’re not Agatha,” your comment made him laugh “she’s got the day off.” He explained as his eyes went down to your hands “thank god you found that stupid animal.” Mat added as he realised that Drew no longer had to rip up his bedroom trying to find that.

Part of you wanted to remind him of the crocodiles name but the other part of you knew it was best to just keep your mouth shut “y/n!” Drew let out a cheer as he saw you stood at the door.

Mat was surprised when he realised that you were actually a real person but that you were also an adult “I believe this is yours,” you smiled as you bent down to hand him Danny.

The young boy wrapped his arms around your neck as he almost knocked you off of your feet “thank you!” Drew repeated those words drawing a laugh from both you and his father “don’t mention bud,” you smiled as you patted his back.

His dads eyes never left yours as he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the door “do you want to ask your friend if she wants to come in?” Mat proposed as he rubbed his hand along his chin.

Drew’s eyes lit up at the thought “do you? Do you really?” He asked as he squealed with excitement.

You let out a laugh as you stood back up straight “I don’t even know your name,” you pointed out as you looked at Mat.

The boy groaned “tell her who you are daddy!” Drew pulled at Mats pants as the older Barzal remained quiet.

Mat shook his head as he snapped himself out of it “Mat, Mat Barzal.” The hockey player introduced himself to you as he held his hand out for you to shake.

His tone made you think that you should have known who he was but still you remained oblivious “y/n l/n.” You never that by listening to Drew it would start the most interesting month of your life.

Now you still remained unaware of Mats true profession but that was because you never seemed to ask and besides thinking he was some rich businessman each time he left the apartment in his suit was much more entertaining.

So instead after a busy week where you hadn’t seen a lot of Drew or Mat you knew the perfect way to apologise to the boy for not seeing him all week after Agatha sent you a text saying the boys missed you.

It wasn’t clear to you why Mat would have been involved in that statement but you didn’t look into it “you sure that I can’t meet her?” Tito groaned as he kicked his legs.

Drew had been playing away with his toys on the carpet “I don’t want you guys to scare her.” Mat explained as he shrugged “she wants to meet them.” Drew announced as he didn’t look up from his train set.

That was music to Tito’s ears “see she wants to meet us!” He cheered at the boys phrase.

Mat rolled his eyes “I’ll see when she has time.” The Canadian proposed as there was a knock at the door “so I’ve got four different cupcakes so take your pick but just not-” you walked into his apartment just like how you always did.

Tito locked eyes with you as he smiled “you’re friends with the Tito Beauvillier and you never told me!” You gasped as you sent Mat a glare only causing his teammate to laugh.

It wasn’t often that Mat was jealous but this was one of those few moments “how do you know who he is but not me!” Mat furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.

Drew ran over to you “hi y/n!” He giggled as he wrapped his arms around your legs.

You smiled as you looked down at the boy “the guy I sit next to at work has his poster above his computer.” You explained as you crouched down to be eye level with Drew “which one do you want?” You added as you opened the box for the boy to see the different cupcakes in your box.

Over the next two months you learnt all about how Mat was a hockey player and you even went as far as to meet his teammates. Twitter began to think that you were more than just Mats friend as a video came out of you playing rock paper scissors with Drew in the family and friends box.

After an afternoon game Mat convinced you to go for a round a minigolf. You were for the most part unsure of it, you had grown fond of both Drew and Mat but you didn’t want to put your feelings above the young boys.

What you didn’t know was that Mat felt the same way about you. The fights he had gotten into recently on the ice were because of chirps about you, your style, your body, anything about you that they could say to get under his skin about your they said it. After every game though you always landed up back at his place to play nurse “Mat!” You laughed as the boy wrapped his arms around you to stop you from swinging the club “no cheating!” You added as the scruff from his beard rubbed against your neck.

He smiled as he put you back down “I’m just helping my cause,” he explained as you spun around to face him.

The smirk was present on your face “your cause?” You cocked your head as you licked your lips.

Mats hand went to your hair as he smile “got a pretty strong plan.” He confessed as he dropped his club to the ground “want to tell me about them?” You wriggled you eyebrows as your heart rate increased.

Alarm bells should have rung in Mats head as he studied your face “dinner, maybe even a second date?” He proposed grateful that he had booked the course out so they didn’t have anyone watching them “kiss me.” You blurted out as you couldn’t take it anymore.

All of the temptation and the waiting had built up in your bones “you sure?” Whilst it was all Mat wanted to hear he still didn’t want to cross a line you didn’t want him to.

You nodded “so sure it’s painful,” you gasped as the boys hands went to your cheeks before he kissed you.

It sucked the air out of your lungs as you kissed him back when your club hit the ground with a clang as your hands went on top of his.

A muffled giggle came from your lips at his neediness “wait, what do we tell Drew?” You gasped as you remembered that he was sat at home with Agatha.

“I don’t think he’ll mind if his favourite girl is around more.”

[constellationandcompendium]

Writeblr Intro

Greetings traveller!

About Me:

She/her, early 30s

PhD graduate working in heritage

British (obsessed with tea)

Also sings and crochets

Enjoys both Star Trek & Star Wars

Occasional NaNoWriMo participant

Fanfic writer of 15 years making the jump into original fiction (find my fandom blog @thetamehistorian)

Happy to take asks / play tag games etc.

Has a habit of designing covers rather than writing

Second attempt at this blog (main blog this time, cha cha real smooth)

Tends To Write / Read

Sci-Fi & Cyberpunk

Urban Fantasy & Fantasy

Historical

Comedy (this suprised me too)

Introducing My WIPS

A crime thriller with a touch of cyberpunk...

Featuring

Man with habit of doing wrong thing for right reason

Best buds to reluctant allies to ‘I would die for you’

That ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this’ meme

Conspiracies and double agents

Lots of angst and hurt (with some comfort)

Wholesome parent / child relationships

Summary

Solaris City has a problem. Whilst the metropolis flourishes, down below in the old mines the Undercity grows wild and dangerous, it’s people cut off from the prosperity above, dreaming of the sun and spreading Haze - an addictive drug.

Elias also has a problem. Working for the Bureau has cleaned his slate but he hasn’t cut all ties with those underground. Now there’s a girl hidden in his flat and something big has been uncovered that has his contacts in a flurry.

With two days to go to a vote on unifying the two halves of the city, and his friend Sebastien caught right in the middle, Elias has a feeling that it'll only take one domino falling for everything to come crashing down.

Work Page

First Draft Complete, If Messy (Mind the Plot Holes)

A sci-fi comedy of a ship of misfits...

Featuring

Puns for ship names (and just bad jokes in general)

Captain packing up the ship and all its crew because they can no longer thrive in this household

Overly social parents (please stop inviting my professor over to dinner)

Space worker unions (and aliens)

Learning self-worth and finding strength through working together

Found family

Summary

The United Earth Ship Archimedes patrols the border of charted space. Beyond it - the vast and unexplored reaches of the universe.

It’s an exciting prospect for Aster Kobor, newly graduated from the fleet academy and hoping to make her mark upon the stars. Unfortunately, it only takes a few weeks for Aster to realise that the Archimedes is nicknamed ‘the screw’ for a reason. It’s a ship for the rejects and misfits, those deemed unfit to serve in the frontier ships and command never lets them do anything exciting. Still, Aster is determined to make the best of it and, unbeknownst to her, her meddling Captain is about to give the crew of the Archimedes their chance to show command what they're made of.

Soon a bad reputation is the least of their troubles and, whether the crew like it or not, they’ll have to learn to survive in deep space - where their only certainty is each other.

Work Page

Currently Wrangling Vibes Into ~ Characters ~ and ~ Plot ~

A historical novel about determined women, trains, and winning a war…

Featuring

One woman’s obsession with the railways

Code breaking commuters

Breakfasts cooked on a coal shovel

Being accidentally adopted by an elderly fireman and driver duo

Occasional air raid for added ~spice~

Solidarity in the face of adversity and outdated systems

Summary

Bea had always been fascinated by the railways, but her dream of driving one of the locomotives always seemed out of reach. Working the trains is dangerous, dirty, and completely off limits to the fairer sex.

Then the war came and the men went off the fight. Answering the call to help, Bea and her fellow railway volunteers find themselves with an opportunity of a lifetime. Obscured from judging eyes by steam and smoke they shadow the veteran drivers and engineers, learning what they can on the job and hitting the library when they can't.

The trains need to run, they are vital to the war effort. All it would take is one rogue bomb, one mishap to take out a driver and the wheels stop spinning.

Or at least, that's what the station manager thinks.

Work Page

Currently Doing Research and Initial Planning!

[reptilia0freptiles]

The Second Victim AU (Part 3)

Previous/Next | First

Sec was walking down the hall, skip in their step, song from their mouth. They were going on a visit to Chosen and Dark, as they had several times before by now. They had grown fond of the duo, and was sure that they felt the same. Sec bumped into another stick figure in the hallway.

"Ow- Oh sorry, Vic!" they apologised, quickly recognising the stick, and the others following behind. There was Hazard, Primal, Ballista and of course, Striker.

"Hello, Sec. Where were you going?" Vic asked, a thin veil of coolness covering their voice. Sec always wanted to figure out how to do that- but then again, Victim was the boss of a rich company, so it was only right that they could do that. It was still cool though.

"I'm going to see Chosen and Dark!" Second chirped, it wasn't exactly a secret that they were talking to them anyway. Unfortunately, Vic didn't seem to want that.

"Sorry bud, but I just talked to them. They're... tired for now, I'm sure you can chat tomorrow." they said, petting the orange hollowhead's head. "In the meantime, you can search for a yellow stick figure. Solid colour and head. Capture them for now, then tell me, alright." Sec nodded, then 'saluted' and ran down the corridor to start their mission.

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

Well, finding that stick didn't take long. Sec was hiding behind one of the MANY trucks in the parking spots and, there she was. A yellow stick figure, perfectly matching Vic's description. Oh, and there were three others too: a dark red, a bright green and a sky blue. They seemed like friends. Well, only one was Sec's target. Aaaaand they were so lost in thought they didn't even notice the red one approach them until he was right in their face.

"Hiiiii!" he squeaked backing away a bit, allowing Sec to see that the others were running in their direction too. This was fine, and hey, Sec wasn't even that confident in their stealth plan anyway.

"Uhm- Hey?" Sec shook their head. They needed to sound more confident. "Sorry. Hey! I'm The- Sec!" It was probably best for them to not say their full name out loud, it sounded weird, like a title of some sort? But that wasn't the point.

"Red! Great Cursors, don't go running off to every stick you meet! They could be dangerous!" Oh. The yellow one was speaking now. Keep an eye on her, Sec made a mental note.

"Guys! I think this stick figure escaped! We could ask them for help!" Red cried, literally right in their face. Reckless, but potentially a fighter? At this point, Sec was just making observations of all of them.

Wait. The red guy thinks whAT-

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

So, somehow, Sec had earned their trust. And they were using it to take advantage of them. They felt so, so bad for this, but- but they were planning to break out the wanted criminals! And one of them actually was one! Sec wanted to follow in Victim's footsteps, capturing dangerous criminals and bringing justice, and this was how. But... Chosen and Yellow didn't seem evil.

"You're leading us to Dark and Chosen, right?" Blue's voice was tinged with worry. As if Sec needed a reason to feel more guilt.

"Yeah. I know this place like the back of my hand, don't worry." They weren't technically lying. Yes, they were leading the to Chosen and Dark! That was part of the deal, in which Sec led them to their friends, and in return...

Well, in return, they didn't think of that yet.

After a somewhat awkward walk where many conversations were started and stopped, they reached the door to the prison 'cell' room that the hollowhead duo were trapped in.

"Well, here we are!" Sec took a step back, and Red took the lead, bursting right through the door, startling... just about everyone. When he let out a squeak of surprise or relief (or both? Sec wasn't good at reading emotions) the other three ran in after him, leaving Sec to walk in and lock the door behind them.

"Chosen! Hold on, we'll get you out of here!" Green was right in front the cube, talking with Chosen, while Yellow studied the control panels.

"Kiddos? What are you doing here?! Get out before you get caught!" Chosen hissed back, Dark glancing around the room, noticing Sec. The orange stick figure was getting a UI board out.

"We're fine, Sec has been... helping... us?" The red stick figure faltered, as did everyone else. Sec had a strained grimace on their face.

"Nope! D- Vic would be pretty disappointed if I just let three wanted sticks loose." They said, equipping the selection box. "Sorry, I guess."

Green, Yellow, Red and Blue fought well, but Sec had weapons. Heck, they didn't even have to use all of them! Red lunged at them first, ignoring Chosen's yells to run, and the orange stick swiftly trapped him in a box.

"Wha-" Red didn't even get the chance to speak before he was straight up just SPUN. "AAAAAH-" Sec booted him into a side cage, making a heavy thud as he collided with the wall. "RED-" Now it was the others' turn. Luckily, Sec had battle practise.

Green punched and kicked at them, but he just never hit his mark. After a few quick flurries, Sec grabbed his leg and swung Green into the cell, knocking Blue along with him. That left Yellow. She was trembling in fear, watching Sec take all three of her friends.

"What do you want?!" Chosen yelled, as Sec stepped closer to the terrified stick. Sec looked at them with an exasperated expression.

"Chosen, I thought you knew that I'm doing this for Vic!" They muttered, confused and annoyed.

"Not really!"

"SHUT UP DARK I DIDN'T ASK YOU" they snapped. Sec shook them selves and muttered a small, reluctant apology as they summoned up another selection box. "Sorry again, Yellow."

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

Vic heard a knock on the door. "Come in!"

It was Sec.

"Hey bud, How's your mission going?" They asked, glancing at the younger stick in front of them. Sec was uncharacteristically quiet, it was slightly concerning.

"Great. I got the target and her allies! They're in a cage next to Chosen and Dark." They reported, "They did put up a fight though, but Striker's training helped me defeat them."

"Good. You are dismissed." At that, Sec gave a brisk nod and left the room, leaving Vic to scheme.

Finally, they had all they needed.

Noogai3, was going to go down.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I was finally able to get around to reading your response omg Ari hiiiii, I hope you’ve been well! ^^ My goodness it’s always such a treat to read everything that you say, and I’m so honored to hear that you’d want to know more about my lil sona!🥺 It may be best to start with her background so it isn’t super confusing, but essentially!! During Sashisu’s highschool years she works at a little bakery, which she will one day manage and own when we reach the current time in the series! ^^ She’s aware of jujutsu sorcerors and her own CT but wants to steer clear of all that due to how dangerous it all is, but she will still use her CT when necessary! Also funny little thought idk if it’s canon or I read it in a fic, but I remember hearing that sorcerors needed a License or qualifications to use their CT and she just?? Is not willing to deal with that so she’s technically breaking Jujutsu law or smth and her buds are just?? Simply looking the other way huh what?? Breaking the law?? No no that’s our buddy she would never <:)

I Imagine she meets the trio after they’ve finished a mission and Gojo insists on stopping by the bakery for some sweets before they have to head back to Jujutsu tech and while enjoying their respective treats they see an employee(ms girl) giving nasty stares to any patrons that have lingering curses until they disappear and a collective understanding of ‘Oh okay she can see them too.’ is had between the three of them. I don’t have specifics on how they all truly get to know one another, but I can dish out dynamic deets😌

With Gojo they are so stupid but so silly. He is >:D whilst she is <:). An unstoppable force of tomfoolery meets an unmovable object of common sense. Pokémon vs. Digimon. She is calmer and plenty more humble out of the two, but she enjoys how goofy he can be along with his antics. Like?? He will hold up a line while she is at the register, telling her for the fifth time that he’s one of the strongest, so special that the world had to change to match his level when he was born and she, covered up to her glasses in flour, fingertips burnt from grazing hot pans and in a general state of ‘okay this is fine’, looks at him devoid of all emotion and says, “That is so cool. Your total is $36.75”. Begs for free sweets as if he couldn’t buy the store 100 times over. They have a silly and light dynamic and it is v v fun! (I also have this running gag that were they ever to be on a team and needed a team name they would be called ‘Ten eyes’, Gojo with his 6 eyes and because she wears glasses, plays with the whole ‘4 eyes’ tease that can pop up when someone is wearing glasses, so hence the 10 eyes! If that makes sense! <:) )

Now for Geto I imagine they are both super mellow and lax, if someone wanted to just take in the scenery and have an easy day of comfort this is the duo to go with! Sugu is a natural born worrier, but I think seeing her get distracted by hustle and bustle no matter where she is, watching her glare something nasty at a particularly rowdy curse despite knowing what it can do, or how she shrinks back at rude customers he is just?? Always ready to help and give her a nudge along the way if needed. He is teasing and silly, and she either plays along or is so blunt for comedic effect and cannot be messed with, but there’s fun in that uncertainty and he likes the toss up! The Kuromi to her My Melody. She worries about him stretching himself too thin and how his CT can harm him, but never knows how to broach the topic and would never want to pry in something that’s none of her business. <:(

And finally Shoko! I must admit and forewarn that I’m not the most versed in her character, but I do absolutely love her, and this is what I imagine for them! Much like with Sugu, they have a very relaxed dynamic, but I imagine they have plenty of inside jokes considering who they’re both friends with lmao. She worries about Shoko because smoking is never good but never wants to come across as preachy and Shoko thinks it’s sweet and can’t help but tease her every now and again, but appreciates the sentiment! Also incredibly late night texts, it will be 3AM and they will both be up sending the most nonsensical things to one another. They have matching dark circles underneath their eyes💙 She bakes special treats or savory items for Shoko on the days she knows they’re visiting because she knows Shoko isn’t fond of sweets!

Once again another behemoth ask has been sent, I hope it’s been an entertaining and coherent read!🥺 I could never thank you enough for being so sweet and showing interest in my lil sona it means the absolute world and then some😭 As I’ve said before and I will always say again, I as well as everyone else are always so ready and hyped to listen and chat about your sona! Mary sue or not a good character is a good character, and I just know yours is hands down divine!🥺 Though please know there is absolutely zero pressure ofc, talking about a sona can be super personal or hard to explain! <:) I hope you have a wonderful day/night, and ofc there’s never any pressure to interact or respond to this ask! Thank you so so much for your time Ari! <:)

-🍓

🍓 ANON!!!!!!!!! soso sorry for the wait!!!!!! i’m here now!!!!!!! 🫂🫂🫂 and i’m SOOOO in love w your little sona 🥺🥺 wahhh i have sm i wanna say!!

FIRST OF ALLLL ….. she runs a bakery :’3 HOW CUTEEEEE AND PERFECT FOR HER …… and i love the detail that she eventually manages the bakery on her own when they’re all adults!! (ON THAT NOTE… i do have to ask 😔 is this au canon-divergent at all? or does sugu still defect?? :’3 either way i think he’d visit her bakery lots when they’re both grown …..) AND SASHISU CASUALLY LETTING HER BREAK THE LAW LMAOO they rlly would 😭😭😭 little delinquents !!!

AND WAHHH ….. of course they met her bc of satoru’s sweet tooth 😭😭 I TRULY LOVE THIS CONCEPT SM BTW …… and!!!! her dynamic w all of them!!!!! i cried!!!!!!!!! 🥺🥺 HER AND TORU BEING SILLY ….. cuties ……. pkmn vs digimon <3333 the ideal dynamic. i love them sm. toru begging for free sweets n chatting w her while she’s working….. AND. THE TEN EYES PUN . 🍓 anon i’m literally in love w you btw i’m weak for puns like that <333 AND WAHH YOUR SONA WEARS GLASSES !!! i love glasses wearers sm hehe :3

AND THEN SUGUUU 🥺🥺🥺🥺 ohhhh i can just imagine the peaceful silences between them….. the comfort. sniffle . they both strike me as so soothing…. and him being a lil protective :(((( i can soooo picture him helping her w rude customers. and the fact that she worries for him too!!!!! i already love their dynamic so dearly :’3 it just feels so . comforting and steady somehow. ALSO…. the kuromi to her my melody 🥺 WAHH. soso cute . i can’t take it!!!!!!!!

AND THENNN AND THEN !!! shoko!!!!!! our beloved!!!!!!!! pls dw 🍓 anon, i think you got her energy down perfectly 🥺🥺 the inside jokes….. the relaxed vibe she has ……… sona worrying abt shoko’s smoking but not wanting to nag at her. shoko teasing her for it !!!!!! THEY’RE SO CUTE. and the late night texts …. the matching eyebags…… sona tailoring her baking to shoko’s tastes 🥺 i’m actually soso weak for them. their dynamic feels so natural and cozy!!!!!!

THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR THE LORE MY BELOVED <3333333 i love these four (and you!!!) so dearly ….. i know my answer is super late but pls know that i fell in love w this concept the moment i read this 🥺🥺🥺 i absolutely love hearing your sona thoughts!!!!! your brain!!!! is soso big!!!!! your sona seems like such a sweetheart and i know sashisu adores her <33333 ANDDD you’re also such a sweetie!!!! you have the most soothing cozy energy ever….. i truly love chatting w you sm <33 i hope!!! my late responses won’t deter you from sending more sona asks in the future bc i really am so invested in her!!! 🥺🥺 tysm for indulging me and answering my question hehe.

here is a bag full of treats for you and your sona to share :3333 ily lots !!!! 🍓🍒🫐🧁🍰🍩

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1077: Bartending with Uncle Rodin (Persona 5 x Bayonetta x SSBU)

2:34 p.m. at the Gates of Hell Bar.......

Ren: (Standing Behind the Bar With a Confident Smirk on his Face) Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to my first and lastest creation....(Presents Two Small Glasses of Red Colored Drinks) Passionate Crimson Flaré~

Enzo: (Amazed at the Drink In Front of Him) Ooooooooh.....

Rodin: (Crosses his Arms as He Examines his Drink Closer) The name could use a little more work. But the drink itself does look promising. I wonder.....

Enzo and Rodin takes a sip of their respective drinks. It wasn't long for the duo to take a liking to them in question.

Enzo: (Turns to His Boss Next to Him) Holy shit, Boss. This creation of his taste fucking phenomenal!

Rodin: Wouldn't go that far. (Begins to Nod as his Taste Buds Starts Kicking in a Bit) ('Mm') But this is pretty delectable. (Turns to Ren in Front of Him) Not bad, kid.

Ren: (Smiles Proudly) Thanks! I wasn't kidding when I said this was my first time creating something like this, but I'm really glad the Bardtending Class is paying off somewhat.

Rodin: That's good and all, but what exactly makes you wanna take up this job in the first place?

Enzo: Yeah, not that we don't want ya here obviously, but you seem like the kinda fellow who would be more interested in the undercover business if anything.

Ren: Funny you mentioned that tidbit. I was planning on becoming one at one point, but I thought about all the times the legal system screwed me over in the past. So I decided not to go through with it in the end. 'Sure Makoto can do a better undercover agent than I ever could anyways.

Enzo: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Makoto who now?

Ren: Makoto Niijima. (Puts on a Cheeky Grin on his Face) My one and only Queen~ (Shows his Uncles a Picture of him and his Girlfriend Together on his Phone) We started dating back in high school and been a romantic team ever since.

Enzo: (Starts Holding his Chin and Nodding With a Grin of his Own) Aha!~ That girl looks like a real keeper, I'll tell ya what.

Rodin: She must be if you call her Queen.

Ren: ('Sighs Dreamingly') Oh you have no idea.....She's smart, resourceful, always does her best to lookout for others, and can definitely kick my ass anyday of the week~

Enzo: (Let's Out Heartdy Laugh) Hahaaa!~ Girl who can kick your ass, huh? I never expected any less from one of my nephews!~

Rodin: (Rolls his Eyes) They're OUR nephews, moron. And of course you would be into that dominance shit. Your own wife been kicking your fatass since the day you first met her.

Enzo: (Shrugs Casually) True. I may be the resident punching bag in the relationship, but it's still leagues better than being coped up in a bar all day and night being single, bald, and moody-(Quickly Notice his Boss Glaring at Him Before Sweating Bullets) I-I don't mean you, of course, boss! I mean, you're bald too, b-b-but like in a more sophisticated way in, ya know? A-And who could ever resist a bald man owning a bar, am i right? (Chuckles Very Awkwardly)

'Silence'

Enzo: (Clicks his Tongue Briefly) You know, I JUST remembered....I had an assignment or two I had get done by the end if the day, you know the one with mafia business and whatnot? (Slowly Starts Getting Up From his Table and Points at the Door Far Behind him) Yeah, I should....go out there and get my lazy-ass started already. (Turns Back to Ren With a Smile as He Gives him a Handshake) But hey! It was nice to finally have the opportunity to meet you, Renny Boy. I don't know why your mothers didn't introduce you to us sooner, but that's neither here nor there. Stay safe and try not to work your ass off to death, alright? Business here been going slow here for God knows how long and I doubt the boss man is gonna do anything to make more interesti-

Enzo turns back to see Rodin still glaring at him.

Enzo: I-I'mma gonna....head out now.....(Starts Walking Backwards Before Turning Around and Sprinting his Way Towards the Exit)

Ren: (Waves Goodbye to Enzo) It was nice to meet you. Uncle Enzo!

Rodin: Try not to trip your ass on the way out!

Enzo: (Turbs Back to the Duo on a Far Enough) Huh? WoahwoahwoahWOAH!-

The loud sound of trash cans falling and cats yelling cam be heard as Enzo trips outside.

Enzo: ('Groans in the Distance') Ah gee....What a fucking start to the day......

Ren: Hm. (Starts Nodding Before Smiling a Bit) He seems pretty cool.

Rodin: Who? Enzo? ('Tch') Please. (Takes a Cigar From Out his Coat Pocket and Uses his Finger to Light It Up) That fool's more of constant headache if anything....(Starts Smoking From his Cigar Before Exhaling it With a Sigh) But I'm glad you're taking a liking to us at least. You seem like a nice kid, or rather young adult.

Ren: Thanks. I'm glad I have opportunity to meet you two as I am happy to be here. I'll do everything I can not to get in your all that much.

Rodin: I wouldn't worry too much about that if I were you. Just keep doing what you've been doing and everything can go smoothly from there. (Points at Ren) Also, don't get too experimental on the drink, ya hear? Their bitter taste is a whole lot stronger than it looks and I don't wanna deal spent an hour or two trying get these drunk fucks out of my bar.

Ren: (Simply Nodded at the Request) Right.

A few minutes has passed by and there wasn't any customers insight, which for Rodin, is a blessing in most disguised figure. As Ren finishing up cleaning the used glasses for today, a thought suddenly occurred in his mind as he speaks.

Ren: Hey, Uncle Rodin, can I ask you something?

Rodin: (Looks Up at Ren With a Magazine in his Habd) Yeah, shoot.

Ren: I....know this might not be my business or anything, but.....Is it true that you and our goddess mom had bad history with one another at one point?

Rodin: Me & Palutena? (Sighs Heavily at the Particular Memory) Yeah.......something like that. I mean, I'm indifferent towards her nowadays, but she still despise me with every fiber in her flesh abd bones.

Ren: Really.

Rodin: Damn right. And it all started wayyy back when I was just your average, run of a mill Angel. (Let's Out a Chuckle) Well, actually, I wouldn't go that far. I was actually pretty well respected for the most part, taking charge of the creation and half of Paradiso's population and whatnot. The women wanted to fuck me and the men would write an entire essay why they wanna be me. That was, until the day I got fed up with the job and higher ups to the point I rebelled on the system entirely and boy, let me tell you that they were NOT happy about that at all.

Ren: Not even mom?

Rodin: ESPECIALLY your mother. You see, she never admits this to anyone, but back then, your mother was a fan of mines, said my contribution inspired her in someway. So once she found out about my insurgency that day, she teleported her way to the battlefield and tried to kill me herself.

Ren: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Shock) You're kidding.......

Rodin: It's true. That woman did everything in her power to end my existence one way or another. But I'll say this much: as loud and obnoxiously preachy as she was....(Smirks a Bit) She's actually one the few worthy adversaries I had in a real long time.

Ren: So she hated you for that long, didn't she?

Rodin: ('Heh') "Hated"? Boy, she still hates my guts even when her and your momma started dating. But I suppose as long as she keep treating y'all with the respect and care, I shouldn't have any reasons to worry. (Pulls Down his Glasses as He Raises his Eyebrow at Ren) You do like having her around as your Goddess Mom or whatever, right?

Ren: (Happily Nodded) Yeah, how could not? She and Witch Mom went out of their way to adopt and raise me as their own. (Frowns a Bit) Which is more than I can say about my actual parents......

Rodin: You had a shitty home life?

Ren: ('Sigh') Somewhat....It was mostly strict if anything. It wasn't long until I was framed for a crime I didn't commit that they moved me away to Shiyuba, labeled me as a disgrace to the family's name, and disowned me altogether. But as sucky as that was....(Starts Smiling a Little) The move did help me start my life over and meet the people I've grown attached to over the recent years. So there's that at least.

Rodin: (Smiles Back at Ren With a Simple Nod) Good, good. The world we live in is filled with cruelty and disaster, but It's nice to see some folks out there finding a better outlook and living the best life for themselves, away from their past sufferings.

'DOOR KOCKED OPENS'

????: HEEEEEEERE'S HADES!

Rodin: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes at a Familiar Face) Speaking of disasters......

Ren: 'Sup Hades. What brings you here?

Hades: Ohh nothing too grand. (Makes his Way inside the Bar) Just checking up on how my nephew is doing on his first day as a bartender.

Rodin: (Turns to Ren) Y'all appointed this fool as your uncle?

Ren: Not really. He declared himself as one a while back. (Leans in and Whispers into Rodin's Ear) He's not even close being the best uncle in the entire Smash Family.

Hades: (Glares at his Self Proclaimed Nephew) Hey, my ears aren't broken, I heard that! (Crosses his Arms Together) And I'll have you know that have set a good enough example for each of you ungrateful brats as a parental figure.

Ren: (Gives Hades a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Really? Then why did showed Pitto that one scene from Toyoko Tribe last year on the first day of October?

Rodin: Wait. You mean one with that big lipped fucker and-

Ren: Yeeeup. And let's not forget the time you made him watch three episodes of Boku no Pico a year or two earlier just for shits and giggles.

Rodin slowly turns his head back towards Hades with a menacing glare on his face.

Rodin: What in the everlasting hell is wrong with you?

Hades: ('SIghs in Defeat') Look, I was bored at each of those times alright!? I didn't think they would actually sacred him THAT badly.......

Ren: Yeah, well they did. (Chuckles Lightly) And honestly, you deserved every beating that came your way after that. (Whispers into Rodin's Ear Again While Snickering) He got whopped by goddess mom AND Pitto's girlfriends.

Rodin: (Forms a Conniving Looking Smirk on his Face) You don't say?

Hades: Hey, they only beaten me by surprise! I can handle all three of them easily in a rematch, Palutena especially!

Ren: Really. So if I were to call her right now and ask her to come over here, you'd still fight her?

Hades: Yeeeup! (Crosses his Arms Again) Your Best Uncle in the Mutliverse Hades us not afraid of anyone. Not even all your mothers.

Ren; No one ever calls you that. (Shrugs) But hey, it's your funeral.

Ren takes his phone out of his pants pocket and begins his call. He waits for a few seconds for the beeps to go off until the words "Hello?" from a feminine voice finally reach into his eardrums.

Ren: Hey, mom, how's its going?

Rodin: (Turns to Hades) You're about to enter a word of eternal pain, you know that?

Hades: (Puts on a Cocky Smirk on his Face as He Scoffs at Rodin) Oh please, like she would ever step foot on this bar alone. She still hates you, remember?

Ren: What's that? You said you're coming over right away to beat him up!?

Hades' sudden begins to widens as he mentally hears the sound of broken glass ringing in his ears and a hint of fear slowly rears it's ugly head as shown in his facial expression.

Ren: And you don't care if you have step foot in Uncle Rodin's bar to do so!?

Rodin: (Went Back to Smirking at Hades) You were saying?

Hades: (Glares at Ren) Ren, what the hell did you tell your mother!?

Ren: Ohhh nothing too major~ Just the fact that I told her that you said that she's too much of a wuss to fight you again and you could vaporize her easily.

Hades: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) VAPORIZ- Ren Amimaya, you know DAMN well I never said anything about vaporizing her bitch ass!

Ren: (Holds a Finger Up at Hades as He Continues His Phone Call With Palutena) .....Yeah, you heard that too, right? He just called you the B word.

Hades: (Angrily Grits his Teeth While Whispering to Ren) STOP TWISTING MY WORDS AROUND, BOY!- (Quickly Pauses Himself Before Taking a Deep Breath to Calm Down) You know what? It's fine, Hades. This is just an elaborate prank to fuck with me us all. Nothing more.

Ren: Hey, Hades, someone would like to have a word with you.

Ren holds up his phone and pits it on speaker mode as the caller in the other line begins to speak.

Palutena: HADES, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF FILITH! I'M COMING OVER THERE TO KICK YOUR SORRY ASS RIGHT NOW AND- (Continues Ranting and Screaming on the Other Line

Hades: (Finally Scared Shitless) Fuck this, I'm not ready to die again yet! Hades out!

And with that Hades finally disappears in the instantaneous speed of darkness much to Ren's satisfaction.

Ren: (Turns Speaker Mode Off and Put the Phone Back in his Ear) Don't waste your time coming over here, mom. He chickened out and left......Uh-huh.....Yep......('Sigh') Yes, I know. I shouldn't call you during work hours. This was just too funny of an opportunity to pass up, you know?.....Yeah......Alright, I'll bring you and Witch Mom something back once I get off.....Love you too. See ya.

Call Ends

Ren: (Turns to Rodin) Hey, you don't mind if I take some of your bags of Hellish Beef Jerky with me back home, do you? It'll only be for an evening.

Rodin: Knock yourself out (Puts on a Proud Smirk on his Face) You deserve it after scaring Hades' dumbass out of our establishment. 'Truly grateful for your service here today so far, boy.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) Thanks. I'm really glad to be here.

@keyenuta

@mariah2014

@cyber-wildcat

@caleb13frede

@bestpony666

@princekirijo

[lifenconcepts]

WRITING WHILE SOBBING

So this goober is a black wolf and has been with the Octonauts since being saved from a shipwreck and recruited to their team :3

(He hasn’t got a name just yet so bare with me..)

He’s a huge fan of sea creatures and specifically analysing them, he and shellington often go on expeditions together and he has a habit of making sure Shellington doesn’t get into any trouble on the way / when exploring. 

He has a healthy relationship with practically all the Octonauts and adored making little gifts for everyone, usually bringing back fun stuff from expeditions, keeping an eye out to make sure everyone is safe and happy, and keeping note of little preferences on all of them.

His main hobbies include writing, crafting, collecting stuff, and painting!

He’s great at keeping watch too and from his previous day aboard a ship, he always used to look out for any danger and so he passed it on to his current lifestyle. It means he is usually the first to tell when something is going wrong, can get past the basic mask of someone panicking and realise they need help, find creatures, and spot something strange. 

It does turn rotten as he often is too alert in most situations and struggles to relax, often finding danger even when there’s nothing to worry about, but the crew often helps him ease off by inviting him to chill activities like baking and playing!

He’s totally neurodivergent, like pretty much all of the team.

He’s very smart when it comes to behavioural analysis and even when nobody says anything can detect change and inner feelings.

Yet all strengths come with flaws, and he is certainly not lacking in them.

He has a tendency to forget basic things, often overlooking mundane habits or information in favour of that which others usually can’t see (say, knowing everyone’s favourite subject in school and yet forgetting to eat, knowing how to get home from practically anywhere and yet doesn’t seem to know how to control the octopod at all).

Canonically aroace btw, although anything I say is canon because he is my goober.

Bdizibckbskzkbxkdbs I don’t know how to lay out the rest of the information so I’ll try simpifty it:

RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE CREW:

Barnacles: they’re quite close and good buddies, and captain gets alot of free therapy lessons and random gifts from time to time. They usually hang out by spending some quality time together and yet doing their own thing.

Kwasii: he and Kwas’ aren’t all that close but are still friends, they bonded primarily over their pirate knowledge despite my goober not being a pirate, merely working on a ship. They sometimes race or do competitive games together but otherwise barely interact.

Shellington: Best buds, inseparable. Both autistic little beasts who yap about any creature they find, a great duo as both document all they see and my goober makes sure they are both somewhat safe all the while. Commonly join eachother on missions and use eachothers research to better understand all the creatures out there.

Peso: Also good buddies, yet interact strictly when necessary. My goober knows some medical skills and has practiced being focused and so whenever Peso may get a bit spooked or his nerves all over the place - my guy keeps a level head and can perform even dangerous procedures with ease.

Inkling: Usually see each other in the library or when the octoalert is pressed, the professor often tries to persuade the silly to chillax for a second and makes him spend time together, to which both actually rather enjoy simply talking and chatting away - often times the silly guy falls asleep at the library and Inkling doesn’t mind at all.

Dashi: Silly buddies, occasionally asks to see some photos from Dash and she happily shares them, he sometimes draws creatures he sees and gives her the silly paintings as gifts (usually discreetly) and she is incredibly thankful for them.

Tweak: Good pals. My goober tries to sometimes help out but other than keeping track of what’s going on barely understands whatever the heck he is supposed to do, and yet volunteers to test out new gadgets of hers or gives ideas. 

Vegimals: helps protect them occasionally and also is the second person who can understand them.

Mskdbkdbbd I’ll just keep those main crew details there okey dokey.,.

He can swim quite well and yet is awful at keeping balance on the surface weirdly enough (some silly lore I’ll keep to myself heheh), but can stand and walk on the octopod just fine!

Rarely asks for help, and ofcourse usually everything is under control but definitely at times is much more humble than he should allow himself to be when it comes to safety.

Can yap about silly facts about all creatures and often without any relation to what’s going on, mind commonly elsewhere and yet still manages to handle whatever task is at hand.

He is a great listener but prefers to either do another thing while listening or desperately waiting for his turn to talk.

He often stims by wagging his tail or making silly noises (I.e. quiet barks/growls or humming).

He adores jellyfish and consistently tries to catch them to keep them as a pet (he fails and has been stung many times, unsurprisingly).

Can catch other creatures with ease though! 

Has a fear of tentacles, being rather uncomfortable if touched by them and utterly terrified if held with them - Inkling as understood this way quicker than most and as a little secret between him and the goober, haven’t shared it with anyone.

Adores copying the stance or language of Barnacles, often looking away in a funny manner if questioned on it. Has been caught multiple times by the captain himself but neither seem to mind.

Likes to randomly chase the crew in a jokingly manner yet never actually goes through with the catch and steps a few steps before actually catching them.

He is a mega super duper goober and I daydream of scenarios in which he is in and he is always such a silly lovely skrunkly guy omgomgomgomgomgg

Fuck it *puts a self insert oc into your kids show*

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (6/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.1k words

Bucky couldn't recall the last time he had a genuine conversation with someone who wasn't his best mates, Sam and Steve. He enjoyed your company and as much as he hated to let his guard down, he wanted to do just that with you. You were everything that Bucky thought he would find repulsive, but he couldn’t help but be attracted towards you. And for the first time he wanted more, he didn't want a one-night stand or a fling with you, he wanted to know you. He admired your courage and bravery, but mostly he admired you. You, with all your stupid yet funny jokes and spontaneity; he liked you more than he would like to admit.

But there was this thing that you were his employee and one meal doesn't count as a date. It was just a meal. But yet, Bucky wanted it to be more. He had never been so intrigued by another person, but it was also clear that you didn't reciprocate his interest. And Bucky would have all of his 206 bones crushed out rather than giving his heart to someone only for it to be not requited. 

So, when you walked into the club the next day, pretending as if nothing had changed, Bucky knew where your relationship lay with him, and he was content with it. Okay, he wasn't content with it, but he knew he couldn't force something that wasn't there. He would choose to be in your life as your boss, acquaintance, or maybe even a friend if he's lucky enough than to not be in your life at all. 

***

When you got settled behind the counter, your mood wasn't that great. It could be because you weren't drunk this time, or maybe because you enjoyed your meal with your boss a little too much for your liking. You wouldn't call it a date, but it sure as hell was a lot better than all the dates or meals you've had with people.

Your good mood was definitely not because of the fact that your mother called only to inform you that this family friend's son is not going to wait around long, and you should at least find a stable job if you can't find a suitable boyfriend. Then she started boasting about your sister and her amazing profession and how she and her husband save lives every day. And you might have had enough of her bullshit and lied that you indeed have a stable job and relationship. None of which is true. 

Bartending only pays the bills, and you haven't had a relationship in years and none of them were serious. You always ran away from any sort of commitment because you knew you would eventually have to introduce your partner to your family and nobody deserves to see that circus, and you told yourself that you're doing a favor to those previous partners by leaving them or as your friends like to call ghosting them. In your defense, dealing with you and your family is more horrific than any scary movie. 

Well, until now because tomorrow your sister and her family are coming to meet your partner and take you back to your parents' place for the weekend. The only problem is that you lied to them about your job and your partner. The worst part is that both of them are pretty non-existent.

"Hey, How are you feeling? " Peter asked you, noticing how you still weren't paying attention to the customer in front of you. 

“Great, not drunk, if that's what you're wondering.” 

“I'm fine," you retorted, glancing at the concerned look Peter was giving you. You quickly took the customer's order and proceeded to make the drink. 

"The last time you said you were fine, you threatened to kill a dude," Pietro interjected, enjoying the faux disbelief that landed on your face. You looked over to Wanda for help, but she just chuckled at her brother's antics.

The rest of the night at work went by as it usually did. Pietro making a sarcastic remark here and there, Wanda countering her brother with a snarky response, you were laughing your ass off watching the duo and Peter awkwardly tried to suppress his amusement. In a weird custom, these three coworkers were the only thing that felt normal. 

By the time you were done, it was mostly you left like always, with the addition of security guards that James added since Rumlow. You wanted to talk to him, especially after the wonderful not date you had, but the situation with him was not under your control anymore and it released from your grasp which scared the shit out of you. If James and you had met under different circumstances, then you would have tried to date him, but with him being your boss and the whole Rumlow thing made everything so complicated, and you didn't have time for any sort of relationship complication in your life. At least that's what you kept telling yourself.

When you were done with your shift and were about to leave, a very familiar voice called for you. You've been trying to ignore him all day and just when you thought you've succeeded, he catches up to you. 

The thing that scared you with James was that you felt safe, too safe with him. You were scared that you were going to become dependent on him for your security, and you hated that. You always despised women who weren't anything except their husband's wife, as if their whole identity was being a man's property. Furthermore, you knew the only thing to be blamed here was patriarchy and men, but you decided that you weren't going to be someone's property, you were going to be your own person. 

And you rebelled a lot to reach here, dyed your hair blue just because your mom told you not to, pursued your dream just because your dad told you to follow a secure nine to four job, left ex-partners because they told you what to and what not to wear. And some part of you knew that James wasn't like that. He wouldn't exploit you and your weaknesses. 

But what you didn't realize was that these were merely excuses that your brain mustered up because you were too scared to be dumped. A long time ago, you decided that it is better to leave than be left. And James — well, James made you feel things that you didn't want to chase. You feared commitment and abandonment too much to go after a guy. 

Your thoughts were brought to a halt when he held your wrist gently and called your name again. Reluctantly, you turned around, pretending to be surprised as if you didn't see him. 

He obviously caught on to you. "Why are you ignoring me?" 

"What?" You scoffed in feign disbelief, taking your hand away from his grasp and setting it on his shoulder. "Why would I ignore you, bud?"

Bud? What the fuck? , both of you thought at the same time.

Carefully, he eyed your hand and then you, "Okay, come on, I'll drop you home."

"No, James, it's fine, I can go on my own." 

"Yes, yes, you are an independent, strong woman but come on," He teased, but you didn't seem to pick up the glint of mischief in his eyes. 

You heard that as a taunt, a taunt your father has told you an ample number of times, that you indeed can never be anything on your own if you don't have a man beside you. While you were lost in your thoughts, James was moving towards his car, assuming that you were following him.

 "But I am," you argued. 

Your voice sounded distant to him, he turned around and walked towards you. "You are what?" 

"I am strong and independent."

"Yes, you are," he agreed as a matter of factly because it was the truth. He had never met someone so strong who would leave behind their whole life to pursue their dreams. He, being the mob boss, and filthy rich couldn't do the same, and he may not tell you this, but he admired you so much. 

Once you got the assurance you needed, you started walking towards his car. "Are you coming or not?" and he followed you. 

Of course, you knew you were strong, but your life had not been going as smoothly as you anticipated. You're stuck in writer's block, your family interference and lack of trust in you hurts like a bitch. You were somewhat crushing on your boss, and you blurted random embarrassing stuff in front of him without thinking. You know, normal crush things. 

When you reached the apartment, he insisted on dropping you to your floor. The car ride was spent in peaceful silence, but the time spent in the elevator was everything but that. No, the fifteen seconds were spent in James fidgeting beside you because he wanted to say something but didn't know how to. 

After you unlocked your door, he finally spoke up. "Um, I was just wondering whether, you know, - I had fun last night and I don't have smooth conversations with people - um, I don't know, I'd like to go out with you again," he didn't finish, but your eyebrows shot up to your forehead and he quickly backpedaled. " Not as a date, if that's what you want. It could be a meal shared between you and your boss. Not that I'm implying that you are obligated to go with me just because I'm your boss. I'm asking this as a stranger, well, not as a stranger but as a friend, I think."

"James,” you spoke softly, and he could feel the denial coming his way.” I had fun too, but you're my boss. This is highly unprofessional."

He signed in defeat and looked at you one last time. There was so much he wanted to say, he wanted to tell you that he enjoyed your company more than he should. He wanted to tell you that he liked you. He wanted to tell you that he wanted to see where this thing would lead with you, but he knew better than that. At the end of the day, you were his employee and if you were to get involved with him in any form, it would only end in your tarnished reputation. So, he nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak much after the clear rejection. "I understand."

"Y/N! “

Both of you turned towards the source of the voice and frowned. He frowned because he was confused, whereas you, oh, you weren't confused, you were furious at the person standing there and at yourself for forgetting about their arrival.

 "Hi, Carol. I thought you were coming tomorrow," you stated, faking a smile, and everyone in the area could see your distressed attempt at looking excited.

 Well, everyone except your sister because she shrieked with happiness and ran towards you to throw her arms around you. Her husband followed behind and gave you and James an awkward smile.

 "I just couldn't wait to meet my baby sister and we'll take you guys back for the weekend."

You guys, James and you thought at the same time. James looked at the side of your face for an explanation, and you kept looking forward at your sister, avoiding his gaze.

Fuck, you forgot about that. How can you forget about that? You mentally cursed yourself and didn't say anything because you didn't know what to do. 

Your sister picked your silence as her cue to talk and pointed her index finger at James, who was standing beside you now. "Is this him?"

Your sister looked at you, expecting an answer, your brother-in-law looked at you with something called, please hurry up, I just want to go back to the hotel. James looked at you with bewilderment. 

You sighed and took your boss's hand in yours, who also happens to be the most dangerous person in the town. He complied, holding on to you tightly, running his thumb on the back of your hand in a soothing manner. It felt like the most obvious thing as if your hand was made to be held by him. The thought sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you were too stubborn to accept it.

"Yes," you finalized. "This is James, my boyfriend."

TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @goodcleanfunsis @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407​ @priii​

[wintermelonbear]

Artistry

Pairing: Damian Al-Ghul Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Trope/s: Childhood Friends, No Powers AU

Summary: A story in which two seemingly dissimilar eight-year-olds build bonds through their love for martial arts. Written for the MGI Trope Tussle 2021.

Words: 4808

Damian and Marinette first met when they were 8 at his mother’s Wushu studio. At first glance they were an unlikely duo, before meeting in martial arts class their social circles ran entirely parallel with one another with Damian attending a private school that was a feeder for Gotham academy and Marinette attending a public elementary local to her, but they truly brought out the best in each other.

Damian had grown up inside his mother’s studio, working day in and day out from the tender age of 3 to improve his weaponry and martial arts skill. His mother and father, divorced but trying their best to co-parent for his sake, each preached to him about the importance of self-discipline and concentration. When his mother and her father, Ras himself a master martial artist, had competed in Wushu they were national champions. As a third-generation practitioner of Wushu, Damian had a lot riding on his shoulders.

Marinette’s mother had practiced Wushu as a child in China. When she first arrived in France she found herself disappointed that there were no local Chinese martial arts centers, let alone Wushu training centers. Sabine always thought it would be a passion she could pass down to her future child, but there was only so much she could teach on her own. However, as fate would have it, after a falling out with Tom’s father Roland the Dupain-Chengs found themselves in a city not too far from Gotham, New Jersey. Sabine was pleasantly surprised to find that the martial arts scene was much more alive there than it had been in Paris. However, between the bakery and her young daughter Sabine had little time to spend practicing martial arts. It wasn’t until Marinette’s kindergarten teacher suggested that Marinette be enrolled in a sport to better her hand-eye coordination that Sabine finally put her daughter into formal martial arts courses.

At first, everything was fine until it became apparent that Marinette was progressing much faster than her peers, despite her typical clumsiness she was surprisingly adept at martial arts. Sabine wasn’t entirely surprised as while Wushu was difficult to teach within the confined space they had at home, she still took the time to practice Tai Chi with her daughter on the weekends, providing Marinette with martial arts fundamentals and self-discipline. With Marinette’s slight inclination for martial arts paired with her hard work she was outperforming her classmates and even some of the older kids at the studio she went to. Eventually, Marinette found herself ostracized by her peers, but her teachers at the studio refused to advance her because they had an in-house rule where children could not be advanced more than two years past their age group. Tom and Sabine knew that pulling Marinette out of the sport entirely was off the table, the pure joy that spread across her face every time she mastered a new trick was proof enough that she was in love with the sport. So they set off to find a new studio to train at, where Marinette’s needs as a budding martial artist would be met. After looking around for a while, they decided to give Talia’s Wushu academy a try despite it being a little over a 30-minute drive from their house.

In regards to the first year of their friendship, Marinette would describe it as very professional, and almost nothing more. It took a while for Damian to become more cordial with her. When asked, Marinette would say “Damian didn’t like me, but he tolerated me enough as a partner because there was only so much practice he could have done alone.”

At first, Damian did not like Marinette at all, in fact, maybe he even hated her. When he first met her, Damian thought she was like every other “talented” kid that came into his mother’s studio, only to realize talent alone would get you nowhere in the sport of Wushu. On her first day, she immediately took up the spot next to him at the front and center of the class and offered him a warm smile, “Hello my name is Marinette, I’m new here.” Damian returned her greeting with a harsh tut of his tongue and the turn of his head, he was there to train, not to make friends. Marinette’s expression was aghast, but she quickly recovered and mumbled a soft “okay not talkative then…this is going great….” Damian suppressed an eye roll, simply because he knew his mother would not tolerate that in her classroom.

Against every one of Damian’s expectations, Marinette proved herself to be a hard-working individual. Eventually, after seeing her work on her technique and tricks after class during open gym hours, seeing that she wasn’t relying purely on natural ability and truly was putting in the effort to become a better martial artist, he began to tolerate her. The first time he returned her daily “Hello” with the nod of his head Marinette’s facial expression went from neutral to shocked to absolutely beaming. Damian simply raised his eyebrow and continued with his pre-class warmup.

Over time Marinette had grown a deep respect for Damian; she wished he was a bit friendlier, but despite their rough start Marinette realized early on that, while gruff and unfriendly, Damian was kind in his own way. He always pointed out when someone’s technique was wrong so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves, he always helped bandage someone up when they were hurt, and he always stayed after class to help his mom clean up. Most people would think he did it out of obligation or his mother’s demands, but Marinette loves people watching, and even after just a few months Marinette has observed that Talia would rather Damian use the time to better himself and will insist that she, or one of their workers, handle the menial tasks.

It was not until Damian saw Marinette work through her struggles that he gained respect for her. While Wushu is a largely performative sport where everyone’s moves are choreographed, Talia wanted to ensure everyone was also learning basic self-defense resulting in regularly held sparring sessions at the end of class. Marinette was a great performer, she was highly expressive and could easily recall choreography, but she had minimal exposure to actual sparring and her reflexes were not as sharp and trained like the others. She managed to win against her opponents in the first few classes by utilizing her creativity, but eventually, her lack of experience caught up with her and in her third month at the studio, she began her losing streak. Looking at her lose to her opponents time and time again he couldn’t help but wonder to himself, “will you still be here tomorrow?” Growing up in the studio, Damian knew that most of the people who were considered to be “gifted” had a tendency to drop out the moment things no longer came naturally to them, they grew frustrated with themselves and then with the sport. At this point, he figured he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Instead, the stage was set for her to become the most prevalent figure in his life.

Despite being in the same classes for over 3 months Damian and Marinette had never sparred. It was actually quite odd that they hadn’t yet sparred, the pairings for the most part were random. Talia reasoned that with the right circumstances even someone who seems weak could win; it was important to never underestimate an opponent and lower your guard. After bowing to one another their eyes met. If you asked them as adults they would unabashedly say that they love the other’s eyes, it was like staring at the calm before a storm. Their eyes were clear, fierce, and piercing. Despite being clearly disadvantaged Marinette showed no fear. She met his first few strikes blow for blow and even managed to evade a few of his strikes with a few unique tumbling passes – something Damian noted that she excelled in. He could tell she has been studying him, observing his strike patterns from his previous matches. Rather than reacting to his strikes, she was anticipating them – a smart move considering her reflexes were lacking. Unfortunately for Marinette, this meant that one unanticipated fake was all it took to defeat her.

That night during open gym hours Marinette approached Damian on her own for the first time. “There is only so much I can practice on my own, please train with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Damian held his face firm, his mouth in a thin line and his eyebrow slightly quirked.

Marinette’s eyes steeled over with conviction. “Did you know that every time you get up from xie bu you duck your chin down in your struggle to regain balance? It’s obvious you’re trying to shift your center of gravity. Instead, try leaning on your front leg from the beginning. The first few times you try this method, you should put a ball between your chin and neck to keep your head held up until you get used to it.”

“How did you–?”

“Notice? I love observing others, I can help you. There’s only so much we can practice on our own. I need help with my reflexes and you need someone who can review your performances. We can’t do this alone. You don’t have to like me, you just have to work with me. What do you say? Deal?”

“Tch. Deal.”

At first, their conversations mainly consisted of Marinette’s one-sided chatter during their warm-up, breaks, and cool-down stretches. It took a while for Marinette to get Damian to open up, but once she found the right topics she found that he was strongly opinionated about almost everything and shared quite a few hobbies with her. While Wushu was the common interest that brought them together, they were much more alike than they thought. They both enjoyed art, video games, and superhero shows to name a few common interests. Damian would say he would want to be a hero without any powers, someone who relies on their own skill to punish evil-doers. Marinette on the other hand would love to be a magical girl who could save others without causing too much damage. After hotly debating the topic of normal heroes and powered heroes, Damian and Marinette came to an agreement that both sides had their own set of struggles and perks.

Damian and Marinette found themselves spending more time with each other both inside and outside of the studio. After arguing over which type of paint was superior, Marinette was team watercolor because of its varied use, relative cheapness to oil paints, and blendability where Damian was a more traditional artist who believed that the blending capabilities of oil paint were just as good, if not better, and their longevity was worth the cost, the two decided to settle it with a paint off. Art sessions quickly became a biweekly tradition between the two, whenever the Gotham botanical garden would have a new exhibit Marinette would insist they go to sketch the flora. Damian quickly found that Marinette was almost as passionate about plants as he was about animals, with the way she flitted about the garden he couldn’t help but wonder if she had been something like a ladybug in her past life. There were also plenty of weekends spent sketching Damian’s pets, though Marinette would note that no drawings could capture what good boys Titus, Alfred the Cat, Jerry the Turkey, and Bat Cow were.

Together they found new ways to integrate Wushu into their hobbies, Marinette had plenty of friends at school who loved art and plenty of friends who did Wushu at the same center, but Damian was the only one she shared nearly all her passions with.

With their art, they began making flyers and posters for the studio, and banners to cheer on their classmates at competitions – Damian would argue he only did this because it would increase morale, which in turn would produce better results for the studio. Marinette struggled with the posters at first as a lot of proposed designs incorporated traditional Chinese characters, she couldn’t even write in Pinyin! Tom and Sabine had prioritized teaching Marinette about her French roots, in the event that one day they decided to move back to France, and neglected teaching her much about Chinese heritage. Marinette still learned basic conversational phrases: yes, no, please, thank you, and familial titles, but she was nowhere near conversational or fluent. After realizing Marinette did not know how to speak Mandarin Damian made it his personal goal to make her at least conversational before they would begin to travel internationally for competitions. Many of the major Wushu competitions took place in China and if Marinette was going to be his partner in the couples division he was going to make sure she was able to converse with any interviewers they may meet, and that if she were to end up lost – he swears Marinette was born without a sense of direction – that she could find her way back to him or their hotel. He hoped that while working on the banners he could work in a few lessons on traditional Chinese characters and simplified Chinese characters so that Marinette could at least read signs. Apart from art, reenacting scenes from video game cutscenes and superhero movies became one of their favorite activities, it became a way to train while still having plenty of fun. Sometimes after mastering a new move-in Ultimate Mecha Strike, they would break out the crash mats to test if the moves in the game were actually physically possible.

Even the hobbies Damian didn’t share with Marinette he was willing to partake in, and the fact that he was trying meant the world to Marinette. Damian was rarely physically affectionate in the first few years of their friendship, and it was even rarer for him to vocalize his emotions, and so Marinette quickly learned that Damian had a tendency to express himself through his actions. A lot of people failed to see how warm and loving Damian truly was, but Marinette saw it in how he interacted with everyone. For example, when Damian’s eldest brother opened up an acrobatics and gymnastics center Damian immediately volunteered to design and paint a mural on the outside that would more easily catch attention, Marinette watched him alter the design day and night and sort through hundreds of color palettes to ensure the pairing was just right. She saw his kindness through his interactions with his family and hers, the painting of her mom and dad baking, a gift from Damian for their 20th anniversary, hung up in the living room was more physical proof of it. When Marinette began sewing he proudly wore her designs and when she began to take commissions, he always kept her business card on his body in the event someone asked about his apparel.

One of Marinette’s fondest memories with Damian was when they decided to host a bake sale to offset the cost of international travel for the competition team. It was near the Mid-Autumn festival so Marinette and her parents decided to make mooncakes. Damian had some experience in the kitchen helping his mother make baozi and baklava, but he definitely wasn’t as experienced as Marinette who grew up in a bakery, yet he still came over to help them with the first few test batches and to help design packaging. Watching him carefully weigh out the ingredients her parents listed and chat about his favorite flavors with her parents in French filled her with so much warmth. The kitchen was filled with banter as a discourse between traditional baked mooncakes and skin mooncakes arose. Marinette and Sabine preferred snow skin mooncakes, the chewiness pairs well with pastes like red bean and taro, where Damian and Tom were strongly on the side of the more traditionally baked mooncake, arguing that the crumble of the pastry paired with fillings like salted egg and lotus paste was clearly superior. Marinette was unsurprised that Damian was strongly advocating for traditional flavors, but her father? The same man who made mustard macarons? It wasn’t until Marinette suggested thousand-layer mooncakes were simply croissants with a pasty filling that everyone else was willing to set aside their different preferences to unite against her. While the thousand layer mooncakes and traditional mooncakes baked, and the snow skin mooncakes steamed Marinette and Damian got to work on the packaging. In order to reduce cost, they had ordered plain packaging and planned to carve potato stamps with Mid-Autumn festival motifs: the moon, rabbits, flowers, fans, and lanterns. Despite having seen how proficient Damian was with a blade in training, Marinette was pleasantly surprised, if not downright awed, by Damian’s precision with a knife. By the time Marinette had finished carving out one flower Damian had finished three lantern carvings. After finishing stamping the final package Marinette daringly pressed the still paint-laden potato stamp onto Damian’s cheek which quickly devolved into a paint fight. The picture of Damian and Marinette covered head to two in paint was proudly pinned at the top of her corkboard, Marinette would never forget the sound of the kitchen filled with laughter that day.

Damian’s parents were extremely supportive of this arrangement. Talia thought it was a great opportunity, open gym hours were busy and she couldn’t give all her attention to Damian, having a training partner could really help him grow. If they got along well they could even enter paired events together! Bruce was enthralled that his son found someone to spend time with other than his friend Clark’s son, Jon. Jon and Damian were great friends, but Jon lived in Metropolis and so the boys rarely saw each other outside of business galas and Skype calls. It was nice knowing his son had someone he could spend time with in person, Bruce was concerned that Damian’s interpersonal growth would be stunted by his lack of interaction with his classmates at school. To see his son being a kid, laughing freely, filled him with great joy, he knew that being the son of a billionaire and a top-notch martial artist had put a lot of pressure on Damian’s shoulders, but he never knew what he could do to help his son. Seeing the walls in Damian’s room at the manor fill up with pictures of him and Marinette smiling, Damian smiling, made Bruce figure that everything was going to be okay.

Sabine and Tom grew to love Damian like their own son with the more time he spent at each other’s houses. At first, they were a bit skeptical, they didn’t quite understand what their daughter saw in the boy, but they trusted her judgment and boy are they glad they did. Damian was like a missing piece of their family, despite his hard exterior, the boy was extremely loyal and caring, they could always count on him to have Marinette’s back. Sabine especially had a soft spot for him after watching him correct Marinette’s brush strokes on the banners, teaching her the differences between what she wrote and what he was writing. The two watched their daughter give herself wholly to this boy, and in return, he gave himself back to her and that was all they could’ve ever wanted for Marinette, to love and be loved.

As they grew older they shared more than just common interests: their dreams, their fears, and the pressure they faced from their families. Marinette knew what she wanted for herself – something Damian was envious of. When they were 11 to offset the competition costs, Marinette’s mother began designing and sewing their competition outfits. Once Marinette saw what her mother was doing she wanted to help, and she ended up falling in love with fashion design. From the age of 13 and onward Marinette designed all of her own stage wear, as well as Damian’s. Sabine would joke that with such a talented daughter it’s a shame they didn’t stay in Paris. Damian wouldn’t admit it – Marinette would – but the thought of possibly never meeting Marinette made him feel uncomfortably empty; he wonders how he bore with that feeling before becoming close with Marinette. Damian wasn’t sure what he wanted for himself, he would love to take over his mother’s Wushu studio, maybe even expand it, but he was always raised with the expectation that one day he would inherit his father’s corporation. Despite loving both options, loving both his parents, there was also a part of him that wanted something that was completely Damian, he had already spent so much of his life living in the shadow of his parents. It wasn’t until high school that Damian opened up to Marinette about this, as the time to make decisions grew closer Damian naturally grew more anxious about his future. Marinette rarely gets the chance to comfort Damian, oftentimes he bottles his emotions up until they’re ready to burst, and even then Marinette has to slowly coax him into talking about them, even if it is with his brothers and not her, she just wants him to feel safe with his own emotions. The first time Damian opened up to her about the pressure he felt as his parent’s only biological son she immediately swept him into her arms, stroking his hair she began to tell him about how loved he was. She told him “Damian I love you, your family loves you, my family loves you. I just want you to know how loved you are. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone who loves you when I say this, do what makes you happy. Your parents will be happy as long as you are, they trust that they raised you to make good decisions for yourself. Even if you don’t know what it is that makes you happy yet, don’t be afraid to explore your options; I’ll be right here by your side and I’m going to support you no matter what. You’ve told me before that even if you inherit the studio Maya would co-own it with you, or even if you inherit your father’s business you would be working alongside your brothers. You are not alone, the world is not riding on solely your shoulders.” Damian was completely silent, if not for the wetness on her shoulder and his grip tightening around her, Marinette would figure he was unphased. Marinette has known that she loves this boy, far past the platonic love she just expressed, but for Damian, it was at this moment that he realized that not only was he loved, but he was in love with Marinette.

“WELCOME TO THE WORLD WUSHU CHAMPIONSHIPS 2019 LIVE FROM GOTHAM, NEW JERSEY” roared overhead on the speakers.

Damian and Marinette were standing in a hall away from the main room where other contestants were preparing themselves both appearance-wise and physically. Marinette herself was fixing the crown braid in her hair. The women’s event would take place in the morning to late afternoon, where the men’s event in the evening giving Damian ample time before he needs to warm up to support Marinette. He gave Marinette’s ensemble a once over and with his cheeks tinged red he muttered “I like your costume, you look really cute”, quickly averting his gaze.

Marinette immediately flushed, almost as red as the silken top that adorned her torso, and brought the hands that were adjusting her braids down to her hips and leaned forward, exclaiming in a hushed shout as to not disturb the other competitors warming up, “Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, are you making fun of me? I just want to make sure that any pictures taken do not make me look like a hot mess. Could you imagine what could happen if Audrey Bourgeois sees pictures of me completely frumpled looking and cancels my apprenticeship?? Oh my God and then Parson’s will find out and rescind me and then I won’t be able to visit you at NYU!” Marinette’s hands now rested on her cheeks smearing away her perfectly placed blush. How Marinette managed to go from disgruntled to spiraling in less than a minute is still a mystery that still eludes Damian after years of friendship, but it was his duty to calm her down. He understands her nerves, they had spent the last few years dominating the juniors division and as they entered the senior division there was a lot of pressure for them to win there too. Unfortunately, for every person who wanted them to win, another five were praying for them to slip up, but now is not the time to be overcome by nerves, her turn would come soon and she cannot afford to be overwhelmed by nerves.

Damian fully grasped her wrists pulling her hands away from her face, “Marinette, genuinely you look stunning”. After that comment, Damian noted to himself that it seems like there was no more need for the blush she applied anyways. With the soft tut of his tongue, he smoothed out the harsh lines of her smeared blush using the pad of his thumb. He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “Don’t worry too much about your hair and makeup, the most important thing is your form”. Marinette leaned into his touch and gave a small nod, calming down from her spiraling thoughts, he always knew how to ground her.

“Contestant number 54 you’re up next!”

“That’s you; you might want to fix up your makeup real quick, but everything is going to be fine.” He handed her a bag with her cosmetics and a wipe and quickly clapped his hands around her shoulders to guide her to the main stage so she could focus on herself.

Fixing her makeup Marinette shot him a cheeky grin, “wish me luck?”

“You don’t need luck. Marinette you have the skill, you know that.”

“Next up is Marinette Dupain-Cheng from New Jersey, USA! She is definitely a fan favorite to win today on the Women’s Taolu floor. She is internationally known for competing not only in the women’s division but also in the couples’ scene. She’s been training for the individual event from the age of six and for the partner event from the age of nine with her studio mate Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, who is predicted to win the Men’s Taolu event. While we do not have a couples’ Wushu competition here, since turning 18 they have been dominating the senior international couples’ Wushu scene and have gone undefeated.”

Taking off her team jacket, with a quick nod to her parents, Talia, and of course, Damian Marinette strode to the center stage. Damian would never grow sick of watching her transform on stage, it was strikingly similar to the magical girl shows she had been obsessed with as a child. The moment Marinette stepped onto the mat her whole demeanor changed. Her back straightened up, her head would be held high, and most of all, the look in her eyes was filled with inextinguishable fire.

By the end of the event after getting changed Marinette and Damian were making their way to his car. Once Damian turned 16 and got his license, it became a tradition for them to go out for a celebratory meal together without their parents. “Marinette!” Damian heard a voice call out, Agreste he noted in his head. Marinette had met Agreste and Tsurugi while vacationing in Paris. While they weren’t the worst, in fact, Tsurugi was typically pleasant company, Damian was in no mood to socialize after the several rounds of interviews he had to endure after winning first place in Men’s Taolu. Many of the interviewers failed to understand that while yes, he had more opportunities to train as he is a third-generation Wushu champion, it was his hard work that got him to where he was, not his genetics.

Seeing Damian continue on to his car, not wanting to keep him waiting, Marinette quickly bid them farewell with a promise to see them tomorrow. “Hey wait for me!” Marinette called out, running after Damian. Despite his pride usually preventing him from heeding to his peers’ commands, Damian stopped in his tracks, his breath shallow and wondering why Marinette’s voice still makes his heartthrob despite having heard it call out to him for over 10 years. Feeling her hands latch around his arm gave him a sense of comfort. Her grip was strong and steady, yet still gentle. He couldn’t help but envision his hand in hers instead of his arm. The bouquet and hand-painted card in his car were waiting to see if she felt the same.

[darkaviarymc]

SFW Fic List

This is far from all of my fic. This is a list of SFW fics for reference by minors and anyone uncomfortable with sexual content. For a complete list, visit the Fanfic Masterlist.

Ash, Blood, and Crystals (DISCONTINUED)

Chapters: 6/X

Rating: M (violence and some suggestive themes)

Ships: Scarian, other minor ships

Words: 9,597+

Grian has made a new home and a new life for himself. He has friends, a lover, and a budding career as an architect. But there's something lurking on the edge of the forest surrounding Hermit Grove that may prove threatening to the peaceful existence the village is used to and dredge up secrets that both Grian and Scar have spent years keeping hidden.

This fic is being rewriten.

When You Called the Last Light Down

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: M

Ship: Scarian

Words: 4,652+

Summary: Just when Grian thought he'd found the safe, quiet life he'd always wanted, a commotion on the edge of the forest forces him to confront his past. Scar, Grian’s rescuer and lover, is not without his own secrets and suspicions of the new visitors to Hermit Grove.

When the testimony of a vampire named Mumbo challenges everything Grian though he knew, the truth he uncovers could bring disaster for him, Scar, and the entirety of Hermit Grove.

Will Grian’s true nature save them? Or will he and Scar be overtaken by powers beyond the reach of the forest they thought would protect them?

A rewrite of the discontinued Ash, Blood, and Crystals.

Ethically and Humanly Sourced

Rating: G

Ship: Platonic Grumbo

Words: 1,520

In his quest to become the richest hermit in history, Mumbo capitalizes on a unique opportunity to sell a rare item in his first shop...and Grian is NOT happy about it.

When Your Body Gets the Best of You (Have the Best of Me)

Rating: T

Ship: Scarian

Words: 2,894

Scar is having a particularly bad pain flare-up, but Grian knows that a hot bath and a massage will make him feel at least a little better. Later, Scar expresses his gratitude with pancakes.

Catch Me When I Fall

Rating: T

Ship: Scarian

Words: 917

Respawns that aren't meant to happen don't do all they're meant to do. Now unable to fly, Grian mourns what he's lost and cherishes what he still has.

Thou Shalt Not Prank the King

Rating: G

Ship: Platonic Ren and Bdubs

Words: 273

Ren makes a new decree after finding one of his previous decrees defaced with pumpkins. Written for NHH Promptober on Tumblr. Day 1: Pumpkins

Is the Moon Small?

Rating: G

Ships: Mumscarian

Words: 313

Grian, Mumbo, and Scar enjoy a break from the early season grind and, for the first time, truly take in the joy of being alive and free after the end of s8. Written Hermittober on Tumblr Day 1: Moon

Giving Clocks and Losing Time

Rating: T

Ship: Platonic Etho and Impulse, implied past impdubs, implied past ethdubs

Words: 381

Summary: Etho and Impulse eat bread, talk about clocks, and figure out they have something in common

All the Perfect Moments are Wrong

Rating: T

Ships: Mumscarian, Taurian (mentioned(

Words: 1,884

Summary: While cleaning Grumbot Cave as a surprise for Grian, Mumbo and Scar come across an old scrapbook that they should never have opened.

Last Stand

Tumblr exclusive fic not posted to AO3. If it was, it would be M for graphic violence and is a heavy dramatization of the finally of Scar's "The Crafting Dead" series.

A Scar by Any Other Name

Another Tumblr exclusive fic not posted to AO3.  If it was, it would probably be rated T for angst and implied PTSD.  It's a platonic Desert Duo hurt/comfort where a seemingly simple question from Grian leads to Scar confiding in him about the trauma from "The Crafting Dead."

Worthless

Another Tumblr exclusive. Scar has a trauma response that triggers a trauma response in Grian, and no one gets closure. Until...

Worthless Part 2

Grian and Scar use their words and forgive each other.

A Voidwalker's Lament

Rating: T

Ship: None

Words: 842

The denizens of the void once worshiped the Watchers as gods. Now Xisuma's only prayers to Them are helpless pleas to return his friends from whatever land of death they've been taken to this time, to free them from the cycle of suffering.

The Evergreens Enfold the Shrine

Rating: T

Ship: none

Words: 8,299

A recursive work of The Incandescence of a Dying Light by @/quaranmine, in which Gem, Beef, and Etho camp on Pinnacles Trail and Events Occur that may or may not involve a ghost that may or may not exist.

[crowfootwrites]

Los Guardianes | Part I [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

I've been sitting on this for a while because I really like the story and want to make sure I do it justice. This is going to be a multi-part series. I hope y'all like it!

Warnings: references to playground injury | Words: 1,527

Also, oops, totally forgot to include my taglist 🤦🏼‍♀️: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie

In the chaos that accompanied the start of the first day of school, you missed the shiny black Escalade that was pulling up out front of New River Preschool Academy. Your pre-K classroom was already noisy, the sounds of children chattering and laughing intermingled with the sounds of tearful farewells as parents prepared to leave for the day. A few children sobbed hysterically at their parents’ departures and you motioned for your classroom aide to attend to them while you answered questions from a couple of helicopter parents about naptime and the quality of the provided snacks.

You didn’t miss when a very severe looking man with long black braids and yellow aviator sunglasses appeared at the classroom door with a young boy in tow. It was almost comical, the juxtaposition of such an intimidating looking man, dressed in all black and sporting a neck tattoo, standing on your gaudy counting carpet. Your eyes flickered towards him as he tried to assess which of the adults in the classroom was in charge. You watched as the young boy tugged on his hand and pointed eagerly towards the bins of toy cars along your bright blue bookshelf. You politely extricated yourself from the claws of the two mothers demanding their children only receive brand name juice and made your way towards the door, navigating easily around crawling children and spilled blocks.

The man looked up at your approach and you swore there was a flash of relief in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by the serious, acute gaze you had witnessed at his arrival.

“Good morning,” you addressed the duo cheerfully. “I’m Ms. (Y/L/N). Who do we have here?” you asked, crouching down to greet the boy. He stared at his shoes shyly, shuffling closer to his guardian’s leg. You noticed the tightening of his little fingers around the man’s hand, and you stood with a smile.

“Cristóbal. Galindo,” the man offered quietly. “He’s a little nervous.”

“I see,” you replied with a grin. “Well, hopefully we can pull him out of his shell a little today. I promise, he’ll be used to us in no time, Mr. Galindo.”

The man’s stern expression lifted for a moment as he smirked, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m – I’m not Mr. Galindo,” he clarified. “I’m Nestor. I’m the Galindos’ head of security.”

“Oh, I'm sorry! Little man gets his own security detail?” You hoped your teasing was well-received; Nestor didn’t look like the kind of person you wanted to upset.

But Nestor smiled at you. It was small, but it was there, and the tension in your chest relaxed just a bit. “Something like that,” he replied. He studied you for a moment before you felt a tugging on the hem of your shirt and tore your gaze away from Nestor’s to glance down at the tiny culprit: a little boy with cornrows was motioning to Cristóbal and holding up a toy Batmobile.

You chuckled. “Use your words, Marco,” you said gently. “You can ask him if he wants to play with you.”

Marco turned to Cristóbal, who was staring at him in bewilderment. But the moment Marco offered the Batmobile, Cristóbal was smiling, and the two boys scampered over to an empty spot on the carpet. You looked back up to see Nestor still staring at you, a strange look on his face. He seemed to snap out of it after a moment, and he fumbled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He handed you a business card.

“I think Mr. Galindo’s information is on the school paperwork, but if you have any issues and you can’t get a hold of him, I always answer,” he supplied.

You nodded and gave him a wry smile. “Thank you, I’ll remember that.”

With a quick nod, he was gone.

Your mornings went something like that for the next few weeks. As the kids settled into a routine and became more familiar with your classroom, drop-offs started going more smoothly. Every morning, Nestor dropped Cristóbal off, and picked him up every afternoon. Sometimes, you had the opportunity to chat with him, other times, he greeted you with a nod and then was on his way.

Cristóbal seemed to be thriving. He played well with others and followed directions. He was very inquisitive, which you found endearing. You knew, generally speaking, who the Galindos were, and you would have expected, coming from such a wealthy family, for Cristóbal to be very spoiled. But you were pleasantly surprised by his gentle and respectful demeanor.

On one otherwise uneventful Tuesday, Cristóbal fell on the playground and split his upper lip. When you attempted to call Mr. Galindo, per his information in Cristóbal’s file, he didn’t pick up. You remembered Nestor’s card in the top drawer of your desk and dug around to find it while you pulled Cristóbal onto your hip and he clung to your shirt, his little body shuddering as he sobbed.

You quickly dialed the number and put it on speaker, setting your cell on your desk while you dug out your antiseptic wipes for the boy’s lip.

“Nestor.” His voice was clipped and edgy.

“Hi, Nestor,” you rushed, not wanting to take up too much of his time, “this is Ms. (Y/L/N) from Cristóbal’s school. I’m so sorry to bother you, but Cris had a little accident on the playground today. I don’t think it’s anything too serious, but he split his lip and he’s pretty upset. I tried to call Mr. Galindo, but he didn’t answer.” You knew he could hear Cristóbal wailing from your hip.

The second you stopped speaking he was telling you he’d be there in twenty minutes. He sounded gentler by then, and you breathed a sigh of relief. In that moment, handling a cartel kid seemed way over your pay grade.

Nestor arrived exactly twenty minutes later. It was nap time in your classroom, so you had Cristóbal sitting next to you on a bench in the hallway leading to your room. The bleeding had stopped, and he held an ice pack to his face to help with the swelling. His feet were kicking gently, not reaching the ground, and you realized one of his shoes was untied. As you knelt in front of him to re-lace his red sneaker, you talked to him quietly, telling him about the last time you hurt yourself: tripping over your best friend’s dog at the park and scraping your knee. You told the story so animatedly that he was giggling behind his ice pack. Facing Cristóbal, you didn’t see or hear Nestor approach and when you happened to glance over your shoulder, you jumped to find him standing behind you. He grinned down at you, obviously trying not to laugh alongside his ward.

You rose quickly to your feet as Cristóbal cried, “Nes!” and hopped off the bench.

You could have melted into a giant puddle on the floor witnessing the tenderness with which Nestor interacted with Cristóbal. He knelt down on one knee, gently pulling the ice pack away from the boy’s face to assess the damage. His eyes were puffy from crying, his lip was swollen, and there was a robot bandage over the cut, but he looked ok otherwise.

“How does your lip feel, bud?” Nestor asked him quietly, his voice low and calm.

“It hurts a little,” Cristóbal replied, “but Ms. (Y/L/N) made it stop bleeding and said I was brave.”

You watched as Nestor tried to hide his smile.

“You are brave, chaparrito (shorty),” Nestor responded with a nod, ruffling his hair. “Is it ok if I take him home for the day?” he asked you.

“Yeah, of course, I – ”

“Hey, now I look tough like you do when you get hurt, Nes!” Cristóbal interjected as Nestor stood up, a grimace passing over his expression. You raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you.

He offered a rueful smile and shrugged. “Hazards of the job.”

“Thank you,” he offered appreciatively. “For taking care of him.”

“Of course. Happy to.” You took in his dark eyes and the set of his jaw. He looked more drained than he had that morning and you wondered fleetingly what he had been up to when you called.

Cristóbal grabbed Nestor’s hand and began towing him down the hall when Nestor paused. He glanced back over his shoulder at you. “Maybe the next time I need fixing up, I could come see you for robot bandaid?” he asked, his gaze sober and almost apprehensive.

Your mind raced, trying to come up with a suitably clever reply as your lips curled into a grin. “Yeah,” you managed, “I’ll make sure to stock enough for all your work hazards. I also have dinosaurs, if you’re interested.”

A small smile crept onto his face and he gave you a firm nod. “Very interested.”

Cristóbal tugged his arm and he let the boy lead the way out. Your breath caught in your chest, the stillness a distinct contrast to the thunderous beating of your heart behind your ribcage. Very interested.

Part II of Los Guardianes

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

DadsBatJokes AU TIDBITS, HEADCANONS, AND OTHER FINE LITTLE DETs.

   [ Here are some personal headcanons dealing with Jack (Joker) & Bruce Wayne about how they handle being daddies well also doing the vigilante crime-fighting couple duo at the same time. Also some info on baby Malik too. ]                                                                                {Despite not knowing how he got his pasty white skin condition or why he has green hair, Jack tends to feel this constant slight burning sensation on his skin almost like this ongoing tingling / a bit itchy sunburn type of feeling all over him.}                                                                                                       {When Bruce & Jack are doing their vigilantism together as Batman & Joker dealing with criminals or other scumbags of Gotham they tend to sometimes get into disagreements or arguments when it comes the whole No Kill Code rule; while they often times usually tend to work well with each other there are moments…especially from Jack were he does his very best to be understanding of Bruce moral choice of not killing and he gets the reasons why he does it with what happen to his parents, but Jack deeply feels also thinks that certain people are better off dead instead of them making things in life worse & even more awful. They both try not to get too much into the topic sometimes since it always gets either one of them upsets or angry especially from Bruce side of things.}                                                                                                NOW ABOUT LITTLE BABY MALIK :  { Malik is Bruce & Jack adopted  3 / 4 weeks old Infant son who was unfortunately left orphan due to a villain attack that ended up killing Malik biology parents. Its still unknown on which or what villain rouge causes said attack, but by luck also miracle the little guy was left with no major injuries. }   { Malik full original birth name was Malik Anthony Mohammad, upon adoption it was later changed into Malik Mohammad-Wayne.}   {Little Malik is of mixed race heritage. He’s about half Iranian & half Afro-Cuban with a semi-medium dark brown tanned skin tone along with little tuffs of tight curly brown hair. He has these patches of spotted freckles on both sides of his face also on his nose, under his eyes, and also he got freckles on his little baby bum }          {While Bruce & Jack were more then happy to take in Malik as their son despite going through some difficulties and all in the progress, lets say they both were hit hard with a dose of fast delayed reality of Holy freaking shit! Were parents now. Even though Alfred was glad to give some pointers and tips here & there to help out, Bruce while super grateful…didn’t like having to always to relay on Alfred for parental help with his new son. Jack on the other hand didn’t mind some of the advice from Alfred…but he would much rather use google search on his smartphone because while he admire “Jeeves” help as he said to Bruce “Now darling you do know I love old Alfy just as much as you do but…really Brucie bud are you actually willing to take full complete baby advice from a man who came up in a time were they thought giving children real legit radiation in those kiddies chemistry kits is a good idea now” ; Bruce knew that Jack was only partly joking but he fire backs saying along the lines that Alfred has kept him alive for this long & dealt with him being batman so some of his advice couldn’t be that bad.}                                                              {Since Jack has a lot of nicknames & terms of endearment for Bruce/Batman, obviously it would only make sense for him to have plenty of ones for his son too. Which the following are: Malikee, little Prince, Sweetie-Malikee, Darling boy, sweet boy, Sunny-son, Boo boo bear, dotty butt, munchkin, tiny man, curly wormy, chub-chub-boob, Mon Chouchou (French for my cabbage) and little duckling ,}                                 { Upon being adopted & taken in as a new member of the Wayne family there was of course big buzz from the Gotham media & tabloids about it…and unfortunately a good half of it was mostly negatively aim at Jack. Deeply questioning his parental abilities or even his capability of being a “Proper” parent at all due to his mental health issues also because of his past at Arkham and his slight bad history with Harley Quinn and their semi-kind of violent but mostly impulsive crime-sprees together, Bruce tries to obviously handle the mess & reassures Jack  telling him that he shouldn’t worry about what those gossip news/articles say; Jack really doesn’t give a shit about what these pricks say about him cause well…he’s been pretty used to being called a lot of things & being seen as a freak & so forth.}     {But one thing that’s truly upsets also highly pisses him off is that these Gotham elitists also these news tabloids assholes will actually insinuate that he would probably or likely do something to harm Malik, which just gets him so riled up on so many levels to even think that he would hurt his precious little prince.}                                               {When it comes to diaper duty they both of course handle the task, although surprisingly Jack tends to deal with it a lot better then Bruce can. Especially when it comes to dealing with the more messy poopy diapers which Bruce while he still does it…there are certain times were he feels like he’s going to pass out, Bruce doesn’t get how Jack can handle it so well which Jack explains to him some of the things he dealt with also seen in Arkham which sometimes involved other inmates bodily fluids or gross smells you just make a face and move on. Jack often times teases Bruce on it saying along the lines of  “Aww what’s wrong batsy can’t handle a full load can’t we~ Ha! “}                                                                               {One of the things that Jack loves to do for Malik is sing to him, especially when he’s fussy or crying non-stop, most of the songs that Jack tends to sing for Malik are either old songs from the 1930s or 1940s / 50s also 60s along with some 70s & 80s thrown in the mix, One that Malik seems to be real fond of or usually puts him to sleep is the Everly Brothers song ‘All I have to do is dream’ Which Jack sings as a sort of special lullaby to Malik every night or when he’s super upset and can’t clam down.}                                    

[dc41896]

Or Not?

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: River and Chris plan the perfect Mother’s Day surprise, but actually get surprised themselves.

⚠️: None, all fluff💕!

A/N: Another addition to the River series I thought about releasing for Mother’s Day (which has now passed 🤦🏾‍♀️ lol). I honestly don’t feel the best about this, but I hope you guys like it☺️!

“What do I do with this?,” River asks holding up the small bag of lemons as he and his father enter the bright kitchen illuminated by the sunlight still brightly shining outside.

“I’ll take it bud,” Chris smiles placing the plastic bag on the counter next to all the other ingredients he’d need to use for tonight. “Now both of us need to wash our hands so we can start cooking for mommy.”

This Mother’s Day, both Evans’ boys wanted to do something extra sweet to show their appreciation for the special woman in their lives. And what sweeter way than make dinner for you?

A little after you left for a day of relaxation and pampering at the spa with your mother- and sister-in-laws (an additional gift planned by Chris and their respective husbands), the duo journeyed to the grocery store for everything he’d need for your honey garlic Salmon meal served over rice with lemon butter broccolini. Now staring at the recipe in front of him, he just hoped he didn’t destroy this one like he did with your pancake breakfast a couple weeks ago.

In his defense, how was he to know the chocolate chips would make them stick to the pan, which also claimed to be “non-stick”.

“Daddy, you sure about this?,” River asks holding up his arms so he could be lifted onto the counter.

“Of course! You doubting our skills?”

“Well, I thought mommy always cooks ‘cause you can’t?,” he innocently asks making Chris dramatically scoff before tickling the little boy’s sides, filling the kitchen with wild giggles and chuckles.

“I can cook, okay? Your mom just likes her cooking better....and so do I,” he admits before turning back to his laptop screen to read where he should begin. “Now, how do I tell if this is the Salmon with the skin?”

———

Slightly reaching on his tip toes, River carefully sets the silver fork next to the steaming plate nicely arranged and waiting for you to enjoy. Chris timed it just right that a few minutes after you texted you were on your way, he began cleaning his used dishes and plating everyone’s food. He prayed it tasted as delicious as it looked, but if not at least he made something picture worthy he could pass off as a win.

The jingle of keys unlocking the front door signal both and Dodger (not quite understanding what was happening but not wanting to be left out), to take their positions in the foyer with River holding a bouquet of flowers as he rested on Chris’ hip.

“Happy Mother’s Day!,” they smile as you enter the air conditioned home. Your hand instantly finding your heart as you audibly aw’d at the sight in front of you.

“Thank you my babies!,” you beam wrapping your arms around both of them kissing your son’s cheek before joining your lips with you husband’s. “More gifts?”

“Mhm! We saw these at the store,” River answers giving you the mixed bouquet filled with an assortment of deep purples, pinks, and reds. Bringing the beautiful bundle to your nose, you try to take in their floral scent but another more overwhelming one makes it difficult for you to revel in.

“D-Did you cook fish?”

“Yea, Salmon. Why?,” Chris states growing a bit concerned from the discomfort he could see in the slight shift of your body language.

“Nothing I just, uh, need to use the bathroom really quick. You guys go ahead and eat, I’ll be back soon.”

Handing off your latest gift, both boys watch you hurry down the hall to your bedroom throughly confusing them due to your sudden lack of excitement for one of your favorite dishes.

“Mommy doesn’t like it?,” River asks looking up at his father with disappointment laced in his small voice.

“Noo, she loves it bubs! You and Dodge go put these on the table while I go check on mom.” Taking the flowers and doing as he’s told, Chris eventually follows your path to find you in the bathroom leaning over the sink with your head resting on your folded arms taking deep breaths. You’re startled feeling his larger hand gently drag up and around your back in soothing circles, but you dare not sit up to avoid further nauseating yourself.

“Hey what’s going on? Last time you were like this you were-.” He stops himself just as your shy, tired eyes turn to meet his, silently conveying he was on the right track. “Wait...seriously?”

Seeing the small, ziplock bag holding the two positive pregnancy tests you removed from the top drawer nearly brings tears to his eyes, as he leans down sweetly kissing your temple over and over with his body enveloping yours.

“We were getting our nails done, and after a while it’s like I couldn’t stand being in the room. Your mom just thought it was all the scents getting to me, but then I realized I’m late and, well here we are,” you weakly laugh. “Sorry I ruined your dinner plans.”

“Aw sweetheart don’t worry about that. Me and River will take care of it.”

“Mommy? You okay?,” a quiet, apprehensive voice asks from the bathroom door.

“Yes honey I’m fine,” you smile from his concern, “but daddy and I need to show you something.”

Inching closer to where you two stood, Chris lifts him to rest on his hip as soon as he’s close enough holding the clear bag in his free hand.

“What’s that?,” River asks tilting his head at the two pink and white marker looking objects his dad was showing.

“These are tests mommies take to know if they’re gonna have a baby or not. You wanna know what the ones your mom took said?”

“Mhmm!”

“Well according to this plus sign,” Chris explains, “you’re gonna be a big brother.”

His lips spread into the widest smile as his arms stretch above his head nearly smacking his father’s jaw on the way up. A very enthusiastic “yes!” falls from his lips causing you and your husband to softly laugh.

“The baby fairy came!”

“She did bud! And now we wait a few months and we’ll find out if it’s a girl or a boy.”

“I hope it’s both!”

“You mean you hope it’s twins? Like two babies?,” you ask. Mentally making any deal you could for that not to happen as he nods his head with a toothy grin.

“Twins would be cute though babe,” Chris adds with his own innocent smile making you sigh.

“Well sweetie, we’ll also have to wait and find that out too. And if it is, then mommy’s gonna invent a machine where she can swap bodies with daddy.”

“Ohh cool!”

“When you get older, I’ll explain how it’s not as cool as you think,” he whispers.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeydulcewrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @lovelymari4 @melinda-january @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[anothertimdrakestan]

Heat Waves (TimKon)

Words: 3k

Hi! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been working on this for way too long and definitely have a pt2 planned out if you guys like part one! I hope you’ll take the time to read this because I spent way too long on it and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

for the like 0.1% of my audience that this overlaps with, yes, i too am utterly obsessed with Heat Waves for DNF and have been listening to this song on repeat for three days straight waiting for chapter 8. But, i figured why not let that amazing piece of absolute art inspire a Timkon fic cuz they have the same dynamic as DNF in my eyes! All credits go to tbhyourelame on ao3!

if you don’t know what heat waves is that’s fine this is just a regular fic but I highly recommend you checkout the amazing song here 

It was as hot as death itself in Kansas. Not to mention a farm with no AC was just about the worst place Conner could be forced to “vacation” at. But Ma and Pa had been begging to have him over and the month of June just seemed to overlap, so there Kon was, sweating buckets in the middle of nowhere. 

It felt so cold in Gotham. Though, the temperature was comfortable- the most comfortable it had been all year- but Tim always felt colder, lonelier, when Conner wasn’t by his side. The two of them were a duo, fitting together like a puzzle piece, the absolute best of friends and best of heroes. But now, he was using his mandatory away-from-the-tower weeks up while Conner was in Kansas, it was some sort of mandate that Bruce’s kids come home occasionally and instead of suffering weekends in Gotham Tim opted to just grind out a few weeks at the manor, even if it meant dealing with Damian’s unrelenting murder attempts. But it wasn’t all bad, Tim got to patrol with Bruce again, hang out with Jason occasionally, and even see Dick from time to time. “Family” bonding at it’s finest. 

“Hello?” Tim’s voice was quiet, Kon constantly felt himself turning the volume button up on his phone just to hear a decibel more of his best friend’s comforting tone. 

“Hey Timbers how was your day?” Conner felt himself relaxing to the light sound of Tim breathing, he was laying on the floor, spread like a starfish so that no sticky part of his body could touch and create more sweat. 

“Nothing much, no patrol tonight- I guess you remembered,” Tim’s voice was filling his ears. I remember everything you tell me. “Yeah, yeah I did,” Conner quickly replied. “Any boring farm chores today?” Conner heard the familiar rustling, he could hear Tim stand up, he’d memorized the sound of Tim taking him off speaker and resting the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He could hear Tim’s hair, that he knew he was probably growing out, brush the mic. I always liked his hair longer. 

“Kon?” Tim snapped him back into the stiflingly hot room. “Oh sorry, it’s really hot here, kinda makes me zone out. Um, I’m alright I got to hangout with the cows today which was cool- they don’t like the heat either but Ma says it’ll be over soon,” Conner rambled, all too focused on Tim’s breath in his ear. 

“Sorry for making you zone out, I guess nothing interesting is happening here,” Tim sighed, Conner shook his head, rolling over on the floor, leaning down into the mic of his phone. 

“Nothing about you bores me Tim,” 

Tim didn’t reply. Conner mentally cursed himself, he was really too tired, too hot and bothered to be this flirtatious with Tim, who was a complete wild card when it came to Conner. 

And then he answered, Tim’s voice was higher pitched, the way it ascended when he was blushing- he was blushing. “Well that’s not true, I’m very boring. When I’m doing cases or training or-” Conner couldn’t take it. 

“Nothing about you could bore me Tim. I’m down to be with you whenever, doing whatever, you know that,” he felt his tone soften, loving the way Tim’s breath hitched with every compliment.

“Be with me?” Tim shot back playfully, Conner could practically hear the smirk toying on the smaller boy’s lips. 

“Did I stutter?” Conner heard a loud noise, a thump. Tim’s voice was high pitched again, “Sorry- uh I dropped my phone,” Conner felt himself growing warmer, if at all physically possible. “No problem. So, what are you doing tomorrow with Bruce?” Conner didn’t like pushing Tim too far, hell, he barely knew how he felt half the time. Tim’s voice brightened, “Oh! We’re gonna go to this old ice cream shop I adored as a kid! It’s been too long since I’ve been there, you remember me talking about it?” 

Conner didn’t need a second to answer, “Sub 30, you always get the one with the espresso poured over it,” he couldn’t lie, ice cream sounded absolutely heavenly at the moment. Tim’s voice flooded through the heat, “Right as always- I swear they programmed some sort of photographic memory inside of you,” Tim teased, Conner answered honestly, “I just listen when you tell me things”. The night went on, Tim quickly had to go, believe it or not he did sleep when given the opportunity. “Try not to die of heat exhaustion, drink lots of water throughout the day, not all at once,” Conner smiled, “will do, goodnight Timmy,” Tim answered mid yawn, “night Kon”.

And then he was alone. Alone with the heat, with his thoughts, the latter far more dangerous. He’s my best friend, of course I remember everything. Conner found himself staring at the ceiling, Ma had painted constellations on the walls and ceilings of the room, something funny about alien genes liking the stars. Conner used to be able to find every pattern, name every star, but the only shape he could trace was Tim. There were his eyes, they were pools of deep blue, they sparkled when he laughed but could glare bullets when he tried. If he stared hard enough Kon could find his hair, it’s always soft and smells delicious, layers falling effortlessly- cascading to frame his face. Then there were his lips, Conner found himself constantly mesmerized with the way Tim bit his bottom lip when thinking, the way they scrunched together when he said something funny, how they constricted when he bit the inside of his cheek just enough to hide the emotion he was so scared of portraying. They were perfect. 

He let the heat take his mind, flowing with the stars as he thought dangerous thoughts about his best friend. His thoughts danced around Tim’s waist, flowing carefully around his chest, wrapping Kon in every layer of Tim’s personality, every smile, laugh, tear, scowl, it was Tim. Kon’s Tim. 

And there, on the floor, he drifted to an uncomfortable, sweaty sleep.

~

Tim was scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Gotham was surprisingly boring. He once found the city bustling and distinctly alive but now it only left him cold, cold and bored. 

“Ice cream as good as you remember?” Bruce’s voice lifted him from his device. “Yup! Can’t believe you let me have espresso at like 10, you basically started my addiction.” Tim threw on a smile, glancing down at the half eaten dessert. “Yeah, can’t say I was the best father but, I tried,” Bruce’s shoulders shook lightly, but the laughter didn’t make it to his eyes. Did you really try? Truly? Tim dove back into the creamy sweet, admiring the bitterness the espresso brought the flavor. His phone buzzed.

K: Did you get the ice cream?

T: yeah, you remembered?

K: You literally told me last night

T: have i been off your mind since? 

K: No.

Conner always did this, every time Tim thought he’d throw him off guard with something funny or flirtatious just to have a little fun Kon took it and ran with it. And I’m always the one who ends up blushing. Tim thought, shaking his head. It was really his fault he let Conner get him riled up. They were best friends, flirting or dealing out little sexual quips were natural, and often pretty funny. 

“Earth to Tim? I’ve got a meeting you wanna head back while I head to the office?” Tim glanced over at Bruce who was now standing up in front of him. “Yeah, I can work on cases back at the manor, you gonna head to the office?” stretching his arms he stood up, noticing Bruce had put on his business face- the one stone cold and dry that only brought back the worst memories. “Yes.” His response was gruff, Tim suppressed the shudder that tried to dance down his spine. “Uh yeah, I’ll head back, have a nice day B,” he smiled, hoping it made it to his eyes. 

~

“You can’t keep calling me while I’m on patrol, it’s not safe,” Tim chastised Conner loosely, appreciating the company as his patrol with Damian was always deathly silent. “C’mon, you’re used to having me in your ear,” Tim gulped, glancing around for Damian who was three buildings over, deeply uninterested. “Kon, oh my god, I’m gonna mute you,” Tim whispered, revelling in the chuckle that stirred in Conner’s chest. It was deep, and warm, so distinctly warm Tim felt the heat budding in his chest. 

“So, patrol with the demon? He hasn’t cut your grapple line yet?” Conner’s tone was low and silky smooth. Coughing to clear his throat Tim replied, “nope, he’s most horrific when Bruce is here, when he’s not the punk couldn’t care less whether I live or die,” 

“I care,”

“I know Kon,” If only you knew how much I appreciated it. 

“Asshole, can you hear me? I said we’ve got a gang robbery on second? You coming genius?” Damian’s disgusted tone flooded over his comm, and Tim quickly turned his attention to the bat-brat who was already grappling towards the alarms and shouts. Conner’s whisper asked, “can he hear me?” and Tim replied, “no, you’re on a separate channel, Dami can only hear me when I unmute. Just be quiet while I take out these thugs,”

“Why? Because my voice distracts you?” Conner’s tone shifted into dangerously flirtatious. 

“No, cuz you’re annoying as shit,” Tim smirked, running across the top of a building, letting Damian call the signals so he didn’t get all upset. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable Tim? Do I make you forget just exactly what you’re doing, whether you want to use your batarang or bo staff? Do I make you, warm? Because it’s so warm here, so hot, god I’m just so hot I-”

“Shut. Up.” Tim struck the gun out of a scared looking man. Rolling his eyes at the man in his ear.

“Why? Are you too focused? We’ve taken out much harder criminals all while talking. Aren’t we just talking right now?” Kon’s voice was ringing in his head like never before. 

“I’m trying to focus but it’s no good when you’re in my ear.”

“And what if I wasn’t in your ear? You remember? When we work side by side, so close- are you an affectionate person Tim?” Tim could feel the heat dripping off of Conner’s voice, but he was taken aback by Conner’s new line of thought.

“Wha- what? Am I affectionate? I don’t know. Sometimes?” Tim almost missed a hit, huffing as Damian blocked what would’ve been a hard blow on him. “Start paying attention Drake,” Damian’s tone was acidic. But he was drawn back into his com as Conner’s voice flooded his ears again.

“Would you be affectionate with me?”

“Yes” Tim’s breathless reply was instant, his brain not giving him a chance to think.

“Good, I like that. You know I’m very affectionate too? I like getting to hold the people I care about close, feeling their warmth. You know I’m very warm right now?”

“I- I know Kon, I bet, are you doing alright? Drinking water?” Tim shook out the thought of Conner lazing out in his room, sweaty, lips parted as he pushed out warm breath- Stop. Focus. Your job is to defend these people. Damian’s doing a good job, You just have to round up the civilians. Tim forced himself back into the real world, taking on one of the gang members with ease, tying him up swiftly before moving on to the next.

“I heard that, I can hear it every time you take out one of those men. This is easy isn’t it? I can’t be that distracting to you. You’re too good.”

“You always do this,” Tim felt his cheeks heating up, his steps felt forced, like he had to remind himself to breathe. Tim carefully rounded up civilians, escorting them to safety as Conner started again in his ear. 

“Always do what Tim? Tell you how much I appreciate you? How much I miss you? Do you not think you deserve to be missed? To be loved?”

“Conner” Tim’s tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. But nonetheless Conner continued. 

“Why not? Why the hell not? You’re amazing Tim.”

Tim scoffed, playing it off as a cough to the people in front of him.

“What do you need to hear Tim? That you’re amazing? Brilliant?-”

“Oh my god Kon-” Tim interrupted, but Conner wasn’t done.

“Talented? Impressive? [his tone deepended] - Attractive?” 

“I’m gonna hang up,” Tim was breathing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. The compliments were all that consumed his thoughts, swirling around his brain, packing it full of deep, dangerously flammable thoughts. 

And Conner was ready to let it burn.

“You need to be kissed Tim,” Conner murmurs, throat raw, “so hard that you can’t remember your name- maybe then you’ll understand what I mean.”

The batarang in Tim’s hand clattered to the floor. Damian’s head whipped to him as Tim struggled to regain function. 

“I’m muting you, see you in a bit,” was all Tim could choke out before he ripped the earpiece out, unable to let it sit, burning into his skull. You’re almost done here, cool down, finish up. Tim told himself as he manually reminded himself to breathe. You’ve got this. 

~

Conner knew Tim ended the call. But he didn’t have the energy to stop the endless beeping from the disconnected phone. 

He was laying on the floor of his room, limbs spread out as he clawed for anything that could cool him down, but all he could feel was heat as he stared up at the stars.

He had to admit, he’d pushed Tim further than ever before. But it felt too right to stop, too good. He couldn’t stop replaying the way Tim’s breath hitched after every word, desperately grasping for the feeling budding up in his chest. It was too addictive to not let the words he’d spent too long crafting pour from his lips into Tim’s heart. 

Kon didn’t know how long he laid there, dazed in the heat, just trying to relive word after perfect word. 

Until his phone rang.

“Tim?” his voice was ragged and raw.

Tim’s was high pitched and tight. “Conner what the hell was that? Was that funny to you? Saying all those things- flirting with me while I’m trying to do my job?” 

“Flirting?” Conner mused, staring at the stars with a tattered smirk on his face.

“Don’t act dumb, I don’t know what kind of sick joke it was saying all that while I’m on patrol but I’m glad you think you’re funny,” Tim’s voice was cold. But not the cooling tone, it was sharp, like the way the freeze of ice can feel so painfully hot when applied too harshly. 

“I would’ve said it to you no matter what you were doing,” Conner whispered, resting his phone on his chest, wincing at the sticky noise it made as he tried to adjust it’s positioning. 

“So that was just all for you? To let you listen as you screwed with my brain?” Tim retorted. 

Conner was done dancing around the truth, all forms of control eluding his mind. “Yes,”

“That’s cruel Kon, can you imagine if I did that with you? Told you how you needed to be kissed while you’re out with Jon or something?” Tim sounded exasperated, but at the end of each quip Kon could hear the deep breaths he was taking. Does- Does he like this?

Tim continued. “Don’t answer that. Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘Oh Tim it’s not the same,’ just- just get out of my head!”

Conner sat up. He was floating. Floating in the middle of his room, the phone on his chest tumbling to the floor as he scrambled to grab it again, feeling his feet touch the ground as he held the phone as close to his lips as he could.

“What do you mean Tim? How am I in your head?” Do you feel the same way I do right now?

“You- you just know me. So well, and when you say stuff like that- when you’re in my ear saying those things your voice, it’s like fire, it burns.” Tim sounded desperate, his voice painfully strained. 

Conner’s head was spinning, “I burn you?” he matched Tim’s desperate tone.

“You melt me.” 

Conner’s head slammed against the roof of his room, as he tried to regain control of his senses he heard Tim murmur, “does that make sense?”

“More than you know Timbers, more than you know,” Conner could hear Tim let out a sigh, the kind that told him all would be okay. 

As Conner took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come Tim spoke first. “It’s so late Kon, I’ve been up to long, I think I need to go to bed,” Tim’s tone was soft again, the cooling, comforting tone that Kon was scared he’d never hear again. 

"Yeah, I- uh, have chores in the morning anyways.” Conner answered, hoping to give Tim some peace of mind.

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight Conner,” Tim said quietly, his tone thoughtful and slow, finally letting the sleep crowd his mind. 

“Goodnight Tim, talk to you tomorrow?” Conner let too much hope sink into those last few words. 

“Yes, night now,” Tim answered easily, quickly hanging up the call, letting Conner sink down back into the carpet of his floor. 

“Tomorrow,” Conner whispered to himself, feeling the intense heat start to creep back in as he drifted into a sweaty sleep.

~

“Tomorrow,” Tim whispered to himself, trying to swallow the nerves he didn’t know Conner could draw out of him. 

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” 

-

-

-

not my usual fic but I really hope you enjoyed! 

taglist: @vintageroses10 @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @foenixphire @how--are--you @psych0crybaby @romance-is-tragic @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek also kita cuz i love u and wanted to try writing timkon more in your style hehehe @river-bottom-nightmare 

[themrsdeanwinchester]

Two Souls - Part 1

Welcome to my first mini series! I had originally planned on this being a one shot but I got attached while writing it and it’s a story that is very close to my heart. I decided why not turn it into my very first mini series! I say mini because I don’t plan on it being longer than four, five parts tops. But that could change. We will see how it goes. :) In this series, Dean has retired from hunting but still lives in the bunker with Sam.

I’m the only one who has read this, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. I read it and did my best to find all my errors. You can find more of my work here.

Pairing: Dean x female reader

Warnings: Fluff, Dean being adorable. Possible trigger warnings in future parts of the story.

Word Count: 3,866

Series Summary: Dean starts a job working as a mechanic as a locally owned auto shop. The owner’s daughter, who works at the shop, makes Dean’s heart ache from the moment he sets eyes on her. But, does she feel the same way? What will her dad think? When her life starts crumbling, is it Dean who will be there for her and help her pick up the pieces?

I would love feedback, please :) Also, please send me a message/ask if you'd like to be added to my tag list.

Dean pulled his Impala into a spot at David’s Auto Shop for his interview with the owner and office manager. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he looked at the shop bays, all seven of them full of cars. The shop was a busy one because it was popular with the locals. The owner, David, was well respected and had been in business for over twenty years. Dean was nervous that his resume wouldn’t impress the veteran mechanic since he had never worked for an auto shop before. 

He got out of the Impala and ran his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. He had chosen his nicest plaid shirt, buttoned all the way up to the collar and tucked into his jeans. He had done his best to clean up his boots but they were still stained. 

Dean approached the shop, resume in hand. He grabbed the door, took another deep breath and stepped inside the shop. The phones were ringing off the hook, mechanics were running in and out of the door from the shop to grab keys, put paperwork on the counter and answer the phones.

A husky, tall man with broad shoulders walked through the door and set his gaze on Dean.

“How can I help you?” He asked.

“I’m here for an interview,” Dean said. He glanced at the man’s name patch. He was the owner.

“You must be Dean. I’m David.” He extended his left hand to Dean. Out of instinct, Dean reached out his right hand to shake David’s. Only to fumble and change to his left. David laughed. “I’m left handed. My handshake always throws everyone off. Go through that doorway,” David pointed to Dean’s right, “and the first door on your right is the office manager’s office. I’ll meet you in there. She’s expecting you.” 

Dean crossed the lobby and into the hallway. To his left was a hallway that lead to the shop and  a few feet ahead he could see the office manager’s door. As he approached it, he could hear music. To his delight, it was Led Zeppelin. When he entered the room, the woman looked up at him from the desk and his jaw slightly dropped. He hadn’t been expecting a woman as beautiful as she was. He stood there staring for a moment until she broke the silence.

“Hi. You must be Dean.” She stood up and walked around the desk. Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes travel up and down her body. She was wearing jeans that fit just right, hugging her curves in all of the right places and that flared slightly around her boots. She was wearing a plain black V-neck shirt with a mechanics shirt that matched David’s “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She extend her hand to Dean with a blinding smile on her face.

When Dean took her hand, he was surprised at how soft her skin was despite her very firm handshake. “Y-Yeah. Dean. Nice to meet you, too,” he stuttered.

David saved him by walking in the door. “I see you’ve met my daughter,” he said. “Turn the radio down.” He gestured to Y/N who turned the nob down to a whisper.

“Oh, I didn’t know she was your daughter,” Dean said. He looked back at Y/N who just smiled again.

“Shall we get started?” She suggested, taking a seat behind her desk again. 

Dean sat in a chair across from her and David sat next to Y/N. 

“So, Dean. It doesn’t look like you have ever worked as a mechanic before,” Y/N said, looking over his short resume. “But you say you’ve got a few decades of experience.” She looked up at Dean.

“No, I mean yes. Well, no I haven’t ever worked as a mechanic for a shop before but I do have a lot of experience. My dad taught me a lot and then I also learned as I went. I have rebuilt my car a few times. I do all of my own work on her. My other dad, well, my adopted dad, kind of, he owned a junk yard. I worked on a lot of cars at his place as well,” Dean explained. He took another deep breath and cursed himself for fumbling so much. 

Y/N and her dad nodded, exchanged a glance and Y/N smiled a little.

“I am mostly self taught as well,” David said to Dean. “Just classes in high school and college, mostly because it’s the only subjects I liked,” he chuckled. 

“It says you have been self employed all your life. Winchester Brothers. What did you do?” Y/N asked.

“My brother and I were in the business of... pest control.” Dean widened his eyes a little, realizing he didn’t actually know anything about exterminating bugs. He prayed they didn’t ask him details.

Again, the daughter and father duo nodded. Dean used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. He hadn’t been this nervous about anything in awhile. It didn’t help that every time he looked at Y/N, his heart lurched as if it were reaching out to her.

“Dean,” David’s voice brought Dean back down to earth. “I like you. And I’m always right about people. You’ve got yourself a job. Y/N will get your shirt size and have a few made for you. I’ve got to get back out there. I’ve got an engine I need to finish a rebuild on by the end of the day.” David stood up, stumbled a little and groaned.

Y/N jumped jump. “Dad, why don’t you take it easy. I can finish the rebuild for you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. She listened to Led Zeppelin, was beautiful, and could work on cars? He was impressed.

“I’m fine,” David snapped, causing Y/N to recoil and plop back down behind her desk. “Can you start tomorrow?” David directed at Dean.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Great, see you at 7:30AM. We might have some old shop shirts you can wear until Y/N gets yours in. Have a good one.” With that, David lumbered out the door and disappeared.

Dean looked back at Y/N. Her eyes were glistening with tears but he could tell she was holding them back. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looked up, blinking back the tears. “Yes. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “What size are you, Dean?”

He loved the way she said his name. It was heavenly. “Large.”

“Okay. I’ll order you five shirts. Do you have a nickname you’d like on the name patch or is Dean ok?”

“Dean is fine. I don’t have a nickname.” Dean was now able to see the name patch on her shirt. It said Bud. “Is Bud your boyfriend?” He asked before his brain could tell his mouth stop.

Y/N looked down at her name patch. “Oh, no. My dad calls me Bud. Has ever since I was a kid. I have one or two with my actual name on it but the ones that say Bud are my favorite,” she explained as she stood up. “Come with me. I’ll get you a few shirts for the rest of the week. Your shirts should be in by next Monday.”

Dean followed Y/N out of her office and down the hallway. Next to a door labeled Parts there was a coat closest. Y/N rummaged through it looking for shirts. She handed him four.

“That’ll get through until Friday and Monday morning I should have yours in. Oh, what kind of car do you have?”

“67 Impala.”

Y/N eyes widened a little. “Can I see it?” Her voice was bubbling over with excitement. 

“Absolutely.”

Y/N followed Dean outside. “Wow,” she breathed. “She’s gorgeous. How long have you had her?”

“A couple decades,” Dean answered. He watched as her hand hovered over the hood. He could tell she wanted to touch it, run her hands along the shiny and warm metal. She curled her fingers and retracted her hand. “You can touch her,” Dean said through a small laugh.

Y/N turned to him, a smile on her face. She gently placed her hand on the hood, soaking up the beauty of the Impala. “I might have to talk to you into letting me drive her someday.”

Dean laughed. “Maybe. I barely let my brother drive her.”

“Fair enough. I won’t let anyone drive my truck.”

“What do you have?”

“66 Ford F100. Caribbean Turquoise. It was my dad’s first truck. I helped him rebuild it a few years ago.” She turned to face Dean. “Want to see it?” Her smile was so big, there was no way Dean could say no.

He followed Y/N around back and as soon as he turned the corner, he saw her truck. It stood out, the Caribbean Turquoise bright and shiny compared to the darker and more neutral toned cars around it.

“Oh, wow. It’s nice. How long did it take you guys to rebuild?” Dean peeked through the window. The interior was the same color, even the seat. The inside was immaculate.

“A few months. We had an advantage, owning a shop and all,” Y/N said, gesturing up at the building. She looked at the shop for a long time. Dean watched as she admired it and her eyes started to glisten again. “Well,” she broke the silence. She curled her index fingers under her eyes, pushing her eyes closed to soak up the tears. “We will see you in the morning, Dean. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Yeah, you too. See you tomorrow,” Dean said with a wave. He watched Y/N disappear around the building before making his way back to his Impala and driving away.

Three months into working for David’s shop, Dean had managed to learn a few things about Y/N. She loved classic rock, the Doors, 13th Floor Elevators and Zeppelin being her favorites. One of those three was always playing in her office. She was just as good as any one else in the shop at working on cars. She filled in when other mechanics called out or were on vacation. She also had a few of her own regulars who only would let her work on their cars. Her favorite color was Y/F/C and she loved rainy days. He also never once saw her wear a shirt with her actual name on it, only ones with Bud. 

Christmas time had rolled around and the company holiday party was on a Saturday night at a local pizza parlor. Everyone was allowed to bring their families or partner with them and Dean was anxiously waiting to see it Y/N would bring anyone with her. He’d never heard her talk about anyone at work. Never even saw her take a phone call to anyone but customers or vendors. No one stopped by to see her either. Just customers.

In the back seat of the Impala Dean had a gift for Y/N. It was a scarf in her favorite color. He had picked a scarf because sometimes, when he’d stop by her office to say good morning, she had the collar of her shirt pulled up. He asked her why and she said it was always cold in her office in the winter time. It was practical but also thoughtful. 

Dean walked into the pizza parlor. It was nice and warm inside so he shrugged off his jacket and straightened out his plaid shirt. He surveyed the room until he saw some of his co-workers, including David, in the very back. They all threw their heads back in laughter. Beer pitchers were empty on the table but not for long. Soon he saw Y/N walking over, gripping the handles of four beer pitchers, two in each hand. She spread them out across the table before turning towards the door. Her eyes landed on Dean and she smiled. She waved enthusiastically at him and made her way through the crowd.

“Dean!” She said, throwing her arms around him for a hug. Dean smiled, the smell of her shampoo tickling his nose. “Pizza and beer at the table already. I’ll grab you a cold glass.”

“Oh, no. It’s alright, I’ll go get it,” Dean protested.

“I’m going back up there to grab my dad another soda, I’ll grab it. Join everyone else.” She smiled and walked away towards the counter. He watched her go, her steps a little jagged from the beer she’d been drinking. He smiled to himself and approached the table.

Everyone greeted Dean cheerfully. He was introduced to everyone’s guests they had brought with them and he did his best to keep up with everyone’s names and which kids belonged with which couple. A beer was set down in front of him. He looked up to find Y/N standing above him. He smiled and thanked her. She sat down in the empty seat next to him with her own beer.

“I got us special ones. It’s actually my favorite from a local brewery. I hope you like IPAs.” She put the glass to her lips, taking a generous drink. “Try it!” She smiled at Dean, making his heart flutter. 

He complied, his eyes growing large. “This is really good!”

“Told ya,” she smirked. “Pizza?” Y/N put two big slices of pizza on a plate and sat it down in front of Dean before he could answer. She then helped herself to some as well. Dean couldn’t help but smile. A girl who liked pizza and beer. There she goes, he thought, checking more things off my list. A list he didn’t even realize he had until he’d met her.

As the night wore on, people started leaving. A few of the kids had crawled into the laps of their parents and fallen asleep. Their group got thinner and thinner until it was just Dean, Y/N and her dad.

“I’m heading home, Bud.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Dean, thanks for coming.” He reached out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Can you make sure, Y/N gets home okay? She walked here and it’s kind of late.” David eyed his daughter who was sipping on another beer.

“Definitely, sir.” 

As everyone left, Dean turned to Y/N. “Are you ready to head home?”

“I guess…” Y/N trailed off. She was lost in thought for a second. She downed the rest of her beer. “Alright, let’s go.” She stood up and lurched towards Dean, putting her hands onto his chest to catch herself. Dean instinctively wrapped his hands around her biceps.

“Whoa there,” he chuckled.

“Sorry. I am definitely a little bit buzzed.” Y/N laughed, her cheeks growing red.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean assured her.

Dean lead Y/N out to his Impala and opened the door for her. He let her get in on her own, his hand close by just in case she needed it. 

“Oh! I’m honored to get a ride in Dean Winchester’s Impala,” she remarked. She looked up at him from the passenger seat, an enormous grin on her face. Dean couldn’t help but think she looked perfect in the passenger seat, as if she was always meant to be its passenger.

A few minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of Y/N’s house. It was a modest home in a nice neighborhood. All of the homes were older, built in the 50’s. Y/N’s was light green with a white porch and steps. Her F100 was parked in the drive way. It was the only car there, Dean observed.

“Do you want to come inside?” Y/N’s invitation caught Dean off guard.

“We won’t wake anyone up?” Dean posed the question carefully. He was prying for an answer, but didn’t want to be too obvious that he was trying to figure out if she was taken or not.

“Nope. This is my place. Just me. Party of one.” She smiled, her eyes slightly glassy.

Dean hesitated a moment. He got his answer but since Y/N had been drinking, he didn’t want her or her dad to get the wrong idea about him taking her home and ending up inside her house. He did want to give her the gift he’d gotten her though. “Okay. I have a gift for you.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Really? I actually have something for you, too,” she said quietly.

Dean smiled and his heart, again, leaped forward, always in the direction of Y/N. “Let’s get inside, it’s getting cold.” Dean got out of his Impala, grabbed the gift box from behind his seat, and then walked around to open Y/N’s door. He held out his hand to assist her. She took it, squeezing his slightly as she hoisted herself out of the car. 

He followed her up to the door, she fumbled with her keys, first using the wrong one. “Oops, that’s my dad’s. They look the same as mine. Here it is!” The door creaked as she opened it. She stepped in side. “Welcome to my humble little home.” She gestured for Dean to come inside.

Y/N’s house had all hardwood flooring and was accented with Y/F/C, her favorite, and smelled like cinnamon. She walked over to the small Christmas tree she had in the corner and turned its lights on. The lights were white and the ornaments were all different kinds. There was no theme to her tree, just random ornaments she liked, ones that reminded her of people, places, and things. She grabbed one of the presents from under the tree. 

“Let’s sit on the couch and open them together.” She made her way to her couch and plopped down. She patted the cushion beside her, beckoning Dean to sit with her.

As soon as he sat down, Y/N shoved his gift from her into his lap. “Open it! I’m terrible at keeping secrets when it comes to gifts.” The grin on her face was bigger than he’d ever seen it before. 

He chuckled as he unwrapped the box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a few things. First was a nice, heavy duty travel coffee mug with his name on it. “So the guys at the shop know it’s yours” Y/N said through a laugh. One time, Dean and another mechanic had gotten their coffees mixed up. The other mechanic liked his coffee extremely creamy and sweet, Dean liked his black. Y/N had witness them both spit out each others coffee all over the shop floor. Next was a picture of Dean’s Impala in front of David’s shop. It was from a low angle, the car taking up the foreground with the shop’s sign hovering over it. There were raindrops on the Impala and the sky above was dark and angry. He looked at it in awe. It was a beautifully crafted shot.

“I thought it was a neat picture,” Y/N said quietly with a shrug.

“Did you take this?” Dean turned to her, awestruck. She nodded her head, a small, closed mouth smile on her face. “I love it. It’s… it’s a really beautiful shot. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Y/N smiled. “There’s one more thing in there.”

At the bottom of the box was a black mechanics jacket with Dean’s name on it. He pulled it out and turned it around to reveal the shop’s name on the back.

“That one is from my dad and me. Only he and I have one. And now you,” Y/N half whispered.

Dean turned to her, overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity she, and her dad, had shown him. They took a chance hiring him and now, they were giving him a jacket, something that clearly held a special meaning for the two of them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We’re so happy to have you be part of the shop family.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean taking in his gifts and Y/N watching him. He gently placed his gifts back into his box before handing Y/N hers.

“Now I feel like I should have gotten you a little more…” Dean trailed off.

“No,” Y/N said, dragging out the O’s, and waving Dean’s remark off with her hand. She pulled the bow off of the decorative box and popped the lid off. She pulled out the Y/F/C scarf Dean had picked out. She ran her hands over it, taking in how soft the fabric was. She wrapped it around her neck and looked up at Dean. “You remembered my favorite color.”

“Of course,” Dean said through a grin, his voice hushed. “Now you won’t be so cold in your office in the mornings.”

“Thank you, Dean. I love it.” Y/N pulled the ends of the scarf forward, taking in the details and feeling the warmth around her neck.

She looked up at him, and held his gaze for a moment. Then, she closed the gap between them to place a soft kiss on his lips. As she pulled away, Dean took a deep breath. He’d been wanting to kiss her for months and he didn’t want to stop now.

“It’s late. I should get going.” Dean stood up, gathering up his gift box.

Y/N followed suit, still wearing her scarf as she walked Dean to her door. He stepped out onto the porch and spun around to face her. She was holding onto the door, letting it support her. But not because she had been drinking, no. It was for a different reason. It was because kissing Dean had taken her breath away and made her knees weak. Her hands were trembling and she needed to steady herself, not wanting him to notice what he’d done to her, what he’d been doing to her since they had met in her office months prior. She had been pining for Dean, but she was so sure he had a significant other. There was no way a man as handsome, kind, funny, caring, and… her list went on. But there as no way, so she thought, that a man like Dean was single. 

“Do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” Dean’s question pulled Y/N from her thoughts.

“I’d love that.” Her answer was quick, zero hesitation, and Dean noticed.

“Pick you up at 6?”

“I’ll be ready. Casual or fancy?” Y/N questioned.

“Which one would you like?” 

“Casual.”

“Casual it is, sweetheart.” Dean smiled, wished her good night and almost skipped back to his Impala.

Y/N waved to Dean in his car and closed the door, locking it tight behind her. She leaned back against it, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She had a date, for the first time years. And, it was with the man of her dreams.

Tags: @akshi8278​, @notan-applepielife​

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