#(sometimes teammates will use the 'thanks' bark. very funny)

[kantraels]

fseer funniest behaviors

[wisteriashouse]

three pointer.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff, romance, college!au

word count: 2453

remarks: for @kyojoroo​ who mentioned something about a college!au for kyojuro!! this is a bit of an ugly draft, but i just wanted to post it anyway (because i spent too much time on it) i hope you enjoy it!

“Great game!” 

“Yeah, you were a beast on the court, captain!”

“That last shot was insane! We wouldn’t have won without you!”

“Thanks, everyone,” Kyoujurou laughs as he steps into the communal showers, peeling off his basketball jersey as he goes. After a whole after non of so called friendly matches against a rival college, Kyoujurou can’t wait to get into the showers to wash all the sweat and grime that has accumulated off his body. “We all did great today, not just me. It’s our victory.”

“Oh, stop it with the humility, Rengoku, it’s embarrassing to watch,” someone shoves his shoulder playfully from the back - Kyoujurou turns around to see Tengen grinning at him as he steps into the shower next to his, tossing his own jersey to the side. “I’ll eat my gym socks if the headhunters aren’t brawling over you at this year’s nationals. They’ll be like a bunch of piranhas trying to get a piece of that ass.”

Kyoujurou shakes his head, but there’s a pleased smile curling at the corners of his lips. “Let’s just focus on making it to the finals firsts,” he says with a quick laugh, stripping off his shorts and stepping into the shower. Cold water runs down his back, splashes over his face. He glances at the clock hanging on the wall.

Five minutes to eight.

He reaches for the soap just as one of his teammates starts asking around where the rest want to head to for dinner. There’s a smattering of replies from the team, consisting of answers ranging from Wendy’s to the sushi place down the street, punctuated by the sound of running water. Kyoujurou, however, does not answer, focusing his attention on rinsing his hair clean of any soap suds before he’s reaching for his towel to dry himself off. 

Tengen, who’s in the shower next to him, notices how quickly he’s moving.

“What’s with the rush?” Tengen calls as Kyoujurou roughly dries his hair. “Are you that eager to head to dinner? Or,” his smile turns sly, “is it because of the cute waitress there who has the hots for you?”

“What? Don’t be stupid,” Kyoujurou reaches for his shirt, tugging it over his head and casting another glance at the clock. Eight o’ clock now. Damn, he’s late. “Besides, I’m not having dinner with you guys today. I have something else on.”

Tengen raises his eyebrows so fast Kyoujurou thinks that they might just fly off his forehead. “You have something else on?” He repeats, so loudly he might as well be trying to broadcast it to Mars. And to nobody’s surprise, least of all Kyoujurou’s, everyone in the showers is immediately aware of Kyoujurou’s dinner plans.

“Ehh? Captain, you’re not coming with us for dinner?”

“Yeah, we were gonna treat you and have some drinks after!”

“No, no, everyone, let him go,” Tengen’s eyes glint, and instantly Kyoujurou knows that his thoughts are ballooning far beyond the reaches of reality. “He’s definitely got himself a date, fucking finally-” Kyoujurou slaps a hand over Tengen’s mouth to shut him up before another word can leave him. The man might be one of his best friends, but god can he be annoying sometimes.

“I am going to dinner with a friend.” Kyoujurou emphasizes on the word ‘friend’. Tengen waggles his eyebrows very suggestively at him.

“A very… flamboyant type of friend?” He suggests, and Kyoujurou throws his towel at him. This, unfortunately, only serves to make Tengen all the more insufferable than he already is, the man dissolving into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. Kyoujurou groans.

“Stop it.” Sending one last look at the clock, he gathers up his things and shoves them into his backpack before pulling on his varsity jacket as fast as he can. “I’m meeting a very friend sort of friend for dinner, so don’t get any funny ideas. And stop it with the moaning noises,” he directs his last comment at Tengen, who’s still laughing at him. “I’ll see you guys for training tomorrow!”

As expected, a few shout goodbye in return while the rest hoot and holler for him to introduce them to his ‘special friend’ soon. With a quiet laugh and a shake of the head, Kyoujurou steps out of the sports hall, grateful for the cool evening air against his warm cheeks. Really, why do they feel the need to tease him like that?

He’s just about to take off at a light jog when his phone vibrates in the front pocket of his jeans.

Wincing around a slight smile, he hits ‘answer’ and raises the phone to his ear without a glance at the caller ID, the soles of the shoes slapping lightly against the pavement as he picks up a steady pace.

“Hey.” Kyojuro says. He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too breathless.

“You’re late.”

“We went into overtime and the match ended late.” The lights are red when he reaches the crossroads, so he slows his pace and takes a moment to catch his breath. A car honks loudly opposite him. “Sorry about that.”

“Hmm.” A noncommittal noise, and then a pause. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Dinner?” He repeats. The lights turn green, and he begins to jog once more. “Uhh… a double cheeseburger set and a coke zero.” It’s difficult to run and talk at the same time, more so over the phone with his backpack jostling with every step he takes. 

“Tempura side?”

A short bark of laughter leaves him. “You know me too well.” There’s a smile stubbornly clinging to his lips. He doesn’t want to get rid of it.

“You’re about as easy to read as a piece of paper.” A snort, then quieter, “I’ll be waiting for you at the diner.” Before Kyoujurou has the chance to say his own goodbye, the call hangs up on him. He holds the phone up, looks at it for a moment in amusement and laughs, before shoving his phone back into his pocket and quickening his pace, a new spring in his step.

You’re not a person who likes to be kept waiting.

>>> 

The distance to the diner isn’t very far from the sports hall, so Kyoujurou takes only about ten minutes, at a light jog, to make it there. Slightly out of breath from the exertion, he takes a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, before he pushes open the door to the diner, eyes immediately searching the inside for-

You’re seated at one of the booths, dressed in a comfy oversized hoodie and idly scrolling through your phone as you wait for him, two trays of untouched food on the table in front of you. At the sight of you, his mood lifts instantly - you don’t seem to have noticed him yet, so he waits for a moment before he makes his way over to you, sliding into the seat opposite.

You look up from your phone, and Kyoujurou beams, shucking his bag to the side.

“Hey.”

You raise an eyebrow at his chipper attitude, glancing at the screen of your phone as you set it to the side. “You are,” your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek, “twenty minutes late.”

Kyojuro puts his palms flat on the table and bows his head sincerely. “I am very sorry,” he says, suitably chastened. “Please forgive me.” You look at him for a moment, then open your mouth to speak.

“Did you win?”

At that, the smile that Kyoujurou has been trying so hard to keep down inevitably breaks through. “Mmhmm,” he says, and he swears he catches a ghost of a smile touching your lips as well.

“Then I’ll let you off this time.” You push his tray towards him, condensation gathering on the outside of his drink. You’ve been waiting twenty minutes for him, after all. 

“You could have started eating first, you know?” Kyoujurou says, slightly worried as he begins unwrapping his burger. “It’s not healthy to eat too late, and I know you skipped lunch for your project today.”

You shrug off his concern, lazily stealing a fry from his tray before he can stop you (not that he would, even if he could). “Wanted to eat together.” Is all you say in form of an answer, before popping it into your mouth.

Kyoujurou blinks at you, then reaches over to put a few more fries on your tray. He really needs to work on hiding his smile.

“Have some more, then.”

The two of you eat in comfortable silence amidst the chatter and noise ongoing behind you. Occasionally, Kyoujurou pauses between bites to ask you about your day, how your tests went. Conversation swells and ebbs easily between the two of you, never awkward, and the silence is always comfortable.

He finishes his meal first, demolishing the entire tray of food in a few big bites that would make Godzilla proud. Calling for an ice cream (because he’s still hungry), Kyoujurou settles his head on his hands, content to watch you eat, but to his surprise, you’re the one who speaks up first with an unexpected question.

“So, nationals.” You say, slowly. “When are they?”

Kyoujurou pauses, then blinks up at you, unsure if he’s mistaken the word ‘finals’ for ‘nationals’. You’ve never showed an interest in any of his basketball matches before, due to your dislike of large crowds and excessive screaming - hence, almost every basketball game ever. As far as he remembers, you’ve never even been to a game since… well, ever. Still, you asked, so Kyoujurou will answer. 

“They start next month.” Kyoujurou sits up, back a little more straight. “Why?”

Ignoring his question, you simply continue. “It’s a big deal for you, isn’t it?” You lift your burger and take a bite out of it. “Your future, and all that.”

Kyoujurou exhales a bit before he smiles again. “Yeah, it’s huge. All the headhunters from the professional teams will be watching. I can’t afford to show them anything but my best if I’m serious about becoming a professional athlete in the future.”

You make a face. “That sounds… awful, to be honest.” Kyoujurou laughs at that. Instead of taking another bite of your burger, you take a breath, set it to the side and look at Kyoujurou seriously. Confused by the sudden change in mood, Kyoujurou looks back at you, back straightening subconsciously and leaning forward more so that he can hear you better. “Since that’s the case, do you…” you pause for a second, seemingly hesitant, which really piques Kyoujurou’s interest. “Do you want me to-”

Kyoujurou never does find out what it is that you’re suggesting, because in the next second you’re interrupted by an ice cream being set down on the table between you. You, as usual, fall silent in the presence of an unexpected stranger, and Kyoujurou wants to groan. Talk about bad timing. It had seemed serious.

“Oh, it’s you again, captain.” Kyoujurou looks up to see the waitress smiling at him - she’s the one who usually serves his team when they stop by here for team dinners. He returns her smile politely. “It’s surprising to see you here with someone other than your team.”

“I had plans with a friend,” Kyoujurou gestures at you, not noticing the slight frown that tugs at your mouth. The waitress’ mouth forms a slight ‘o’ of realisation at the word ‘friend’, fidgeting with the serving tray in her hands before she speaks again.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your time with your friend here,” she says, suddenly, and her nervous tone gives Kyoujurou pause. Was Tengen right somehow? Did she really have a crush on him? “But you’re a sweet person and I think you’re really cute, so… if it’s alright… may I have your number to get to know you better?”

Kyoujurou blinks up at her, caught off guard by the sudden question - yet he finds his eyes instinctively straying to you. Your expression is neutral, both hands wrapped around his sundae as you begin digging into it, seemingly paying no attention at all to his business with the waitress.

Pressing his lips together, Kyoujurou turns back to the waitress, giving her a smile. “Thank you for your affection, I’m deeply honoured. However,” he pauses, making sure that his voice is carefully gentle before he continues, “I’m afraid that I already have someone else I am interested in. My deepest apologies.”

“Oh.” Her voice comes out tiny. Her eyes dart towards you, just for a moment, but once again you don’t seem to notice, attention still completely riveted on his ice cream. “No, no, it was my fault. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

“Not at all!” Kyoujurou is quick to reassure her. “I think you’re a lovely woman, surely soon you will meet a partner worthy of you who returns your feelings.”

The waitress squeaks out a ‘thank you’ before she escapes into the kitchen, serving tray clutched to her chest. With that over, Kyoujurou turns back to you with an apology on his lips, only to be surprised to see that you’re staring at the kitchen door the waitress has just disappeared through.

“That happens often,” you comment lightly, taking another bite of his sundae. “You must be used to rejecting them by now. Did you come up with that excuse on your own?”

I’m afraid I already have someone else I am interested in.

Kyoujurou’s mouth opens, lips parting slightly and an answer hanging from the tip of his tongue, but before the words can escape him he closes his mouth firmly. He looks at you, watching as you swirl a fry in his ice cream before popping it into your mouth, before you look up at him expectantly. It is not in his nature to lie, so…

“You’ve finished all my ice cream,” he says, tone lighthearted. “I wanted dessert, you know.”

You glance at him, eyes narrowing slightly, but you don’t press the issue, looking down at his ice cream again. “I’ll buy you another one if you want.” You shrug. “Food always tastes better when stolen from someone else.”

Kyoujurou has to shake off a smile before he rises to his feet, hiking his bag over his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Although the stroll is done so in comfortable silence, the topic of the waitress does not resurface, and Kyoujurou can’t help but feel just a hint disappointed. When you bid him goodbye at the door, your expression is just as unreadable as ever, and Kyoujurou does not know what to make of it.

He never manages to find out what it was that you wanted to talk about, either.

[birdy-bat-writes]

New Year’s Bet

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

Pairing: Tim Drake x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Word vomit and weird writing? But mostly fluff.

Summary: You and Tim have liked each other for a while. It’s Your chance to confess at the New Years Eve party.

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

Sometimes, life overcomplicates things, and when you’re a teenage superhero that fights crime in between your homework, you don’t want any more complication. That’s why you really resented today. You had just come back from a mission with the team. When you got back with the rest of your Alpha teammates, you noticed that Beta had already been here for a while. Typical. Still, it was sweet that you found Tim waiting for you. His hair looked a little more ruffled than when you saw it last, and he looked as tired as you felt but it didn’t stop him from flashing you the smile that could light up your whole world.

“Hi, Boy Wonder.”

“Hey, how’d your end of the mission go?”

“Not bad. No injuries, so that’s good, but I, for one, am exhausted.”

“Same here.”

“How’d your end go?”

“Well, I guess you’ll find out in about 30 seconds because Batman is calling us for a briefing.” You laughed and headed over for the briefing along with your teammates. Seriously, Batsy could not have picked a worse day to send you on a mission that ran for 14 hours. It was peak winter and New Year’s Eve. When you were deployed, you could tell by the looks on your teammates faces that they weren’t too thrilled either and just wanted to be in their beds. You all practically exuded lethargy. Although, as much of a toll as the covert op took on you, the emotional ache of trying to confess to your crush for a week and failing was far more crushing. That’s why you were so exhausted. For the last two weeks, either you or Tim were called away for something before you had the chance to tell him, and now you were back to debating if you should even try. See? Complicated. You were pulled from your thoughts when you saw the crowd around you disperse, indicating that Batman was done talking.

“Briefing over, Nap time!” you exclaimed.

“Nap time? Its 2:30 pm.” Tim huffed a laugh.

“Yes, and that means I have not slept in 27 hours. You and I both know that’s never a good thing.” He smiled and looked like he was about to say something. Presumably sarcastic, before,

“No one’s napping. Y/S/N, Robin, you both said you would help me decorate the party hall today.”, M’gann said. She was right. A few weeks ago, the Justice League members had decided to throw a New Year’s Eve party and invite all the members of the junior team. M’gann was tasked with decorating. You had promised to help, and you weren’t one to break a promise.

“You’re right, I’ll be right there.”

“Great! Robin, you too, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Of course, Tim was going. You were going to be there and there’s no way he’s missing any opportunity to talk to you. Especially since he had been trying to tell you something rather important for over a week now. He was hopelessly in love with you and now he really wanted to tell you. What better place than a party, right? Gosh, he hoped you felt the same way. I mean, Conner and Gar insisted that you did.

The two of you Zeta tubed over to the hall of justice and saw that Bart, Conner, Jaime and Dick were already there. By the looks of it (the looks of Dick covered in confetti and holding a glitter banner with his foot), they were also roped into helping M’gann. Understandable since the room you were standing in was enormous. This was just one of the spare rooms on the top floor of the Hall of Justice. The back of it was a wide balcony overlooking statues of esteemed heroes, and beyond that, the city skyline. The air was icy but still refreshing. You were admiring the sight when the first order was barked, surprisingly, not by M’gann.

“Okay! Tim, Y/N, you guys hang the banner. Seven feet up on the left wall.” Dick ordered. “Bart, Jaime, you two set up the tables. Conner, make sure they don’t eat all the food. Anyone that can fly is left responsible for the disco ball. I don’t trust any of you with the sound system so I will be picking the music.” He looked a little too happy about that last part. He’d better not play 80’s music all night.

***

“It’s going to happen…” Bart whispered under his breath.

“No, you will not eat the-”

“Not that! Look at Robin and Y/S/N. Today’s the legendary day.” He cut Jaime off.

“Oh yeah, you said they get married in the future. Today’s the day they get together?”

“Yeah, and we’re going to see it live. Now I’ll know who actually wins the bet!”

***

You dragged the step ladder over to the wall while Tim came over with the banner and measuring tape. Honestly, you had no clue that Dick was such a stickler for organization. Still, it wasn’t as boring or tiring as you thought it was. Joking around with Tim brought some life into you.

You had climbed up to the four-foot mark and taped the banner edge to the wall. Nice and even, but you didn’t step quite right while getting down and tripped. A fully trained hero of the night like you would have had no trouble landing on their feet, and you didn’t, but you didn’t get to land on your feet because you landed in someone’s arms. Tim Drake’s arms.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you.” Your arms clung onto his shoulders and his hands tucked under your knees and waist.

“Are you sure? You didn’t hurt your ankle, did you?”

 “I don’t think so. How’d you catch me that fast?”

“Um… my protective override gives me superpowers?” You both laughed at this. His eyes were so genuine and pure. It was only when you felt his chest heave from laughter against your body that you realized he was still holding you, and suddenly, you could feel your heartbeat get faster.

“Hey, guys, is the banner up?” You heard Dick’s voice approaching and scrambled to your feet. Tim rushed to straighten himself.

“Yeah, everything’s great here. All done!” Tim spoke a just fast enough to sound suspicious, but Dick ignored that. He just might win that bet tonight.

 “Perfect. You guys can go home and get changed for the party. Everything is pretty much done around here.” With one last smile to Tim, you zeta’d back home with M’gann so she could help you choose your dress, and you skipped the entire time.

***

“He caught you?!” M’gann was your biggest cheerleader and she was like an older sister to you. Tim was your best friend, but she was the one you went to when you needed to talk about feelings and the girl stuff. You know, like how to keep your hair up during a fight.

“Yeah! Does that mean something?”

“Obviously! I’ve seen both of you jump off 20 story building and land on your feet. There was no reason for him to catch you unless he really wanted to be your hero.” You were positively giddy.

“Maybe I should tell him.”

“Maybe? DEFINITELY! And you can do it in this.” She pulled out a simple black tulle dress that hemmed just above the knee. You really liked it. Paired with a pair of silver shoes and some light jewelry, you were ready to go.

***

By the time you made it to the hall of Justice, the room was already filled with people. Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman sat in the corner of the room. You were sure Supes and Wonder Woman were trying to convince Batman to actually leave the corner but were not succeeding. The decorations you had put up were gleaming in the lights that contrasted the fading daylight outside. Then you saw him. Tim was dressed in a black suit with a dark red tie. He stood next to Bart, smiling that smile again and you felt the butterflies come back. You weren’t alone though. When he saw you, the whole world melted away. You looked absolutely beautiful. With the way your hair fell so gracefully over your glowing skin and how your dress fit you so perfectly… It probably wasn’t possible to be more in love with you than he already was but if it were, he would have fallen hard. ‘Butterflies’ was an understatement.

“So, are you going to go talk to her or would you rather just keep staring at her?” Tim’s thoughts were interrupted by a very amused Garfield Logan. “She’s waving at you. Go talk to her.” He urged. Tim started walking and looked back only once to see gar with the biggest smirk on his face.

“Y/N, you look really nice.” He said. You tried to hide your blush, but he saw it.

“Thanks, so do you.” The smile was audible in your voice and the thought of you smiling at him made the corners of his mouth pull up even more. He wanted more than anything to hear your voice, see your smile, to gaze into your gorgeous eyes forever. “They effort we put into decorating this place paid off. I never thought I’d see Batman under a disco ball.”

“Funny, it’s my sixth time seeing that. One time, there was a shark involved.”

“Someday, you have got to tell me that story.”

***

Minutes turned into Hours and you spent most of them in the back of the room with Tim.

“Capes are functional!”

“How?! Edna Mode said-!”

“Yeah, but mine is bullet proof!”

“Tim, your whole suit is bulletproof! There’s no point of a cape!”

“Fine, it gives me flair.” He joked. In the distance, Bart was watching the two of you giggle in each other’s company.

“It’s 11:30, Jaime, we just have to wait half an hour”

“Dude, this is creepy.”

“But necessary.”

M’gann passed the two of with Conner by her side. She waved at the two of you and joined Artemis and Wally. Both couples looked so happily in love. “You know, I think Conner’s planning on proposing.”

“Really? M’gann will be so happy! I can’t wait for the day he does.”

“Do married couples kiss at midnight on New Year’s?”

“I guess so. I mean, the point of it is to kiss the person you want to spend the new year with, right?”

“Right. So, do you think Dick will kiss Barbara or Wally?” You chuckled. “I say Wally.”

“Never tell Dick, but I agree with you.”

“Are you going to kiss anyone at midnight?” The question had you flustered to say the least. You weren’t expecting him of all people to ask you that.

“Well, I-”

“Guys, have you seen the cake they’re bringing out? Its massive! Come see.” He tried to pull the two of you toward the kitchen, but Bart was having none of that. It was too close to time and things weren’t about to get off schedule now. So, he sped over.

“Hey, Gar! What was that about cake? In the kitchen you say? Cool, let’s go now! Y/N, Tim, have a lovely evening.”

“Wai-” And they were gone. You and Tim looked at each other with eyebrows raised. There was a non-verbal exchange of “That was weird, right?” and “Eh, not for them.” Tim went to get two drinks and you made your way to the balcony. The bright lights of the city skyline looked so alluring for no explainable reason. They looked like stars scattered among the buildings and you couldn’t help but think of all the nights you’d spent staring at the stars until the sun came up next to Tim. You really wanted to tell him tonight. It was 11:55 by now, imagine if you had your first kiss on New Year’s. But that won’t happen. Pssht.

“Two glasses of punch, lots of ice.” He handed you a glass.

“Thank you very much.”  Tim’s mind was racing silently. He kept thinking if he should or shouldn't confess. With your own mind racing, you broke the silence "I never answered your question...I- No, I don't have anyone I plan to kiss tonight." His face relaxed for a second before a fiery blush crept up "Do you...plan to kiss anyone?"

He responds "I wouldn't say I plan to. Just…" Should I…? Ah, screw it he thought. He's in love with you with you and he wants you to know. "Y/N?"

“Hm?”

“I really like you. A lot, and-" he's interrupted by a shout, It's 11:58 only two minutes ‘till New Years! You were smiling uncontrollably. "Two minutes till midnight, wow. I know you probably don't feel the same, but I just wanted you to know that since the day I met you, I've been so unbelievably happy. You make that way." Someone started a countdown from 60.

You began, "Timmy, I like you too." You placed your hands on his and the countdown reached 35. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the heat of the moment, but you felt particularly bold and said, "Tim, we kiss people on New Year’s because we want to be with them for the new year. You make so happy all the time and I love being around you and-and- " you stammered while the countdown reached 10. "Will you spend the new year with me?"

5, 4,

"I'd love to."

3. You both looked into each other’s eyes, glanced at each other's lips. He placed a hand on your cheek and gently drew you in.

1! His lips were on yours. Happy New Years! The crowd cheered while you moved your arms up to pull Tim closer into the kiss. It was soft and warm and perfect. You both pulled away grinning like idiots. Bart looked over at you two, Crash.

***

Later on, the Justice League is watching from afar how cute you two are. Wonder Woman and Canary were awing while Arrow and Green Lantern were giving you the "Way to go kiddo" head nod.

"I’d better ask Tim who confessed first." Batman said. Superman looked at him questioningly. "I had a bet with Nightwing. My money was on Y/S/N"

Superman just smiled and said, "You're going lose your money, Bruce."

"Were you actually listening in on their conversation?"

"Um..." Batman looked at him with faint surprise and gave a nod of disapproval. "Oh, what can I say I was rooting for them!"

"I'm disappointed in you Clark. Now quick, tell me what they said."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @anothertimdrakestan @offendedfishnoises @comicsandhoney @river-bottom-nightmare @catxsnow @cries-in-fangirl-23 @batarella @idkmanicantenglish @sonofrobin16 @l-horizon11

[jrueships]

What wips do you have rn 👀 elaborate pspspspsp

Too many wips.. thats what I have rn.. too many...

WJBFJEBF so the ones I'm most focusing on rn is the spiderman! Donovan/royce au!! So far I wrote the whole exposition and I'm working on the 'enticing incident' LMFAO it's upgraded from my last summary so I have more to write because I'm insane but yeah! It's the one I want done the most but I'm also gonna go on a trip with my buds to this place without wifi for like? Four days so 😭 I might have to finish it there and wait forever until I can post it! And I'm still unsure about the ending!!! THE STRUGGLE

a shorter fic I have in mind still is the russell waiting for kd at a table for two but he never shows up fic! I just really like writing russell widjsbf but not much action happens there! Many just dialogue and a lot of pg fashion/life roasting from Russell's inner dialogue. He's very judgemental of people who give off douchebag frat bro vibes but can't help but feel intrigued by them JABFJWB oh and he makes fun of pg simping for gold diggers

The fics I have written partly but put back in the burner are my donovan/jaylen fic, marcus/giannis, pg/kawhi jealousy fic, pg/kawhi sm*t fic, pg/kawhi space au, and john/trae patroclus and Achilles au! Mainly because they're super long and I get nervous about writing them too much and wasting all my muse on one thing, so I get scared and back off 😭 but I'll tell u the basic summary of them!!

💙 donovan/jaylen fic is based off the idea of donovan going grocery shopping and getting all mad at the thought of the clippers LMFAO. Basically he's at a grocery store getting flowers for his sports medicine doctor for always putting up with his bullshit (never wanting to sit down and relax so he can actually heal. Playing through the pain). But as he shops, he keeps finding the simplest shit that reminds him of the clippers. Like he sees a claw machine and thinks about Kawhi and how collected that guy is, just chillin in the upper stands, while his team is facing a possible defeat. Donny gets all frustrated because like?? He can't just do that? Just sit back and chill while his team is playing without him? Donny HAS to help, has to GET OUT THERE!! kawhi Doesn't... but kawhi is the one who won a championship. And donovan starts doubting his leadership skills and if he's really good for his team.. if he let them down by being Too pushy and Too in their faces.

+ and then when he's getting a cute card to go with the flowers, he spots one that says "you're the man!!" And he thinks about terance Mann and his great game against them, how proud pg, basically his mentor, was of him. And it makes donovan think about his loss and how he couldn't get that same pride out of Dwyane Wade.

Overall, everything makes him feel useless af and he almost kicks a shelf out of anger. But he calms himself down and goes back to the flowers because he actually only got this little dinky green plant still struggling to bloom? He got it for himself because he felt bad for it LMAO but he still needs to get flowers for his sports medicine doctor. He's goes back to the flower section and who does he see? JAYLEN BROWN all gussied up in his depression fit LMFAO.. but they both are. Jaylen and him try to joke but they're both tired and awkward so it sucks IABDKSBD they basically just ask what the other is doing there. Jaylen is just traveling rn because he got nothin else to do IWBDKS but he bought Deuce a souvenir gift! And he asks Donovan if he can help him put it in his trunk (but really he doesn't need donovan's help. He can pick the toy up himself. He just knows that Donovan is too stubborn to accept help when he needs it but he'll always try helping others out! So he wants donny to think he's helping jaylen but in reality jaylen is trying to help HIm because at the car he invites Donovan to go meet up at a hotel with him where they kiss and have sad *** to make themselves feel better WKBFKSBX) that's basically it!!!! I have literally everything written but the *** scene they're literally my weakness.. I love the emotions they make but I hate.. describing the actions it takes to make them?? Idk I just feel cheesy writing it? It's very tedious and boring to actually crank my brain for a synonym to 'moan' because I'm tired of using that word but it's the only word that really applies to that situation without sounding weird, yknow?? Just very tedious

💙💙💙 OK so marcus/giannis idk bro like... it's just taking so long IWBKENF idk what to say except giannis makes a ton of small jokes at marcus

💙💙 OK so pg/kawhi jealousy fic... BASICALLY the plot is LeBron hosts some big rich guy party for the NBA because I need a reason to write all these people that live far apart interacting together OKAY??? But anyways it takes place after 2020 lakers winning the championship! Pg convince the clippers to come or else they'll look bad for being the only team not coming and they media will have a field day with them, so the clippers join the party. Basically everyone who later team up in 2021 are talking to eachother LMFAO like James hardon+kyrie+kd are talking while russell westbrook and beal are bonding over dance moves with a jealous John wall pouting in the corner. Obligatory Marcus and giannis interactions because I can. Kyle and demar are laughing together. It's all goood until LeBron waltzes over with his weird ass feet and starts talking to kawhi. Hes being all Handsome and Strong and lowkey flexing his win. Its starting to make pg suspicious so he keeps intruding upon the conversation. His inner dialogue is basically a ton of lebron hate KABFKWB. LeBron sometimes comments back to pg but ends up kinda tuning him outta the conversation and sly dissing him to kawhi like "how does it feel talking to someone who doesn't hit the side of the backboard lol"

Pg is starting to get nervous because he's trying to compete against LEBRON over who's the better teammate for kawhi.. and with his current playoff history.. he's not gonna win. He keeps trying to get kawhi out of the conversation, but lebron keeps drawing him back in and pg ends up giving up or he risks looking like an overbearing girlfriend.. So he slinks off in hopes of distracting himself. Originally, pg thought KAWHI would be the one standing all alone awkwardly in the room with no one to talk to, but it's slowly becoming HIM who's the lonely one LMFAO. He tries joining in bradley and Russ's conversation because HEY!! Everybody leaves russ! Russ must be SUUUPER lonely and DESPERATE for someone to talk to him‼ especially when his old ex durant is out there plotting with his two hydra heads!! paul thought, anyways, but finds out russ is actually having the time of his life clowning around with beal !! That just makes pg even more envious and he walks away with zero satisfaction of feeling superior JABDJSB he tries talking to John wall like "this party fuckin sucks bro" but John kinda barks at him and pg gives up. He tries talking to marcus and giannis but that was a mistake because the two smartiest smartasses in the room start roasting him together so he's shunned back to pretending like he's getting 700 thirsty women in his dms, AKA pretending like he got a text on his phone while he leans alone on a wall LMFAO. After glancing up periodically (and casually) to see if kawhi is still talking to lebron, he later gives up on playing popular and goes to hide in the bathroom like a fucking loser WHDJBFJEBD in summary he kinda broods and steams about how much he hates lebron and how he's 'so much better than him' and he's just thinking of petty insults against him to try and convince the kawhi in his mind not to leave him for lebron. He gets really mad and punches a mirror, but thank God lebron is playing bass boosted music so no one at the party hears it.

But, demar ends up knocking on the door. He needs to shit. So pg is like.. what do I do with this broken mirror and my bleeding hand.. so he tries to keep demar out and they banter and eventually demar notices its kinda weird for pg to be huddled up in the bathroom instead of partying.. he must be getting high or smthin. So he's like "that's fucking stupid. He can go get high in one of lebrons 700 rooms. Why The bathroom." So he just opens the door LANKDN and sees The Scene.

At first he's like "are u paying for that.." to which pg responds with "uhhh. I tripped and hit my head on it" (while clutching a bleeding fist) but then he realizes OHHH pg must be ... OH is he.. no.. he can't be limp wristed... blah blah they end up bonding over their funny situations: demar being jealous of kawhi and feeling like kyle thinks he sucks because of him. Pg being jealous of lebron and feeling like kawhi thinks he sucks because of him. Blah blah it's a bittersweet ending pg becomes a little less of a jerk blah blah I haven't finished it because I'm stupid and WEAK

💙💙💙💙 pg/kawhi space au is just too long I have to be in the mood to write it or I end up dismissing good details I could have included if i wasn't in such a burnt out mind!

💙💙💙 pg/kawhi sm*t fic I gotta be in the mood to detail the h*rny right 😭😭

💙💙💙 john/trae patroclus and Achilles is mainly just an idea but with no plot!

But yeah!!! Those are SOME of my wips!! This post is really long tho so I'll just shout out those!!!@ thank u for the interest tho that's so cute 😭😭😭 it helps me write more when I have a plot lined up to look off of and remember ideas so this is really helpful to me too!!! I'll be shocked if u read this far tbh!! But anyways THANK U ALWAYS FOR THE ASKS, ANON!!!!!

[amethystpath-writes]

Part 2: Leader x Hero

A continuation (here) as requested by @silverwhisperer1 !

Assuming another continuation is requested, I will be naming these characters, and when I do, I'll make a key as to who is who so there's no confusion!

******

"So I see you had a nice time running off again," Teammate commented, not bothering to even look at Hero as she cooked bacon on the stove.

"You can't just assume that I went off and got myself-"

Finally turning with a raised brow and cruel smile, Teammate said, "I heard you hissing in the bathroom. Leader, make sure to change her bandages daily. You don't want any infections, Hero."

Hero took a seat on a high stool behind the long island. The team's base was located in an old refurbished bar on the coast of a more or less private beach. It wasn't so private that rebel teenagers didn't stop by and graffiti the walls before taking prideful selfies with their work. It was those times that Teammate 2 got the team's Rottweiler riled up and barking viciously.

There were many aspects of the team Hero loved, but there was always the nagging piece of her that wanted to be alone. Alone was comfortable. Being alone meant she didn't have to rely on anyone but herself, which she would admit now, was becoming a little rocky. But that just meant she needed to work out more, right? Work out, get a harder shell. And maybe she could work on strengthening her powers, or capabilities as the team called them.

Once upon a time, Hero was the only person she knew with powers- capabilities. Even the people she fought weren't able to counter Hero's attacks. She moved so quickly, she could hardly be seen. But now...now everyone was adapting. Hero had actually been caught the one time, and not only was she caught, but she was rendered- well, she was rendered human. When you use powers for so long, you begin to rely on them. Simply sprinting isn't helpful anymore.

That was perhaps one thing Hero was grateful for about the team. The reason they called powers capabilities was because it made the idea of not using them easier. If you are simply capable of something, you can acknowledge that it's maybe not necessary to use them nonstop. Hero was getting to the point that she used her speed to run to the bathroom. She could have walked to the bathroom no problem, but she had powers and what were they worth if she didn't use them for anything? But that was exactly why she came to rely on them. She'd forgotten how to walk normally.

A hand landed on Hero's shoulder and she followed the arm attached to it to look at Leader. "You alright? You're spacing out again."

"Yeah, yeah. I was just...thinking." She added, "About how things were before the team. In a positive light though. I still run off and do things you say are foolish, but I'm learning." She explained her previous reliance on her capabilities, and how on her last runoff she didn't use them at all. It was likely the reason she got so injured, but it was exposure, she thought. Hero needed to get used to not using them, to only use them when absolutely necessary.

"You're doing great, my sweet." Leader acknowledged her troubles, her struggle with reliability and trust. It was something he took note of often, because it came up often. He would reassure her whenever she needed though. It wasn't a bother. Leader loved Hero and just because she was going through a tough time didn't mean he loved her any less. In fact, it was her struggle that made him even come to fancy her at all. Or rather, it was the strength she had in fighting those struggles that he admired. Despite the stressful things Hero did- like trying to fight new crime on her own- he knew that it was somewhat necessary. He only wished she would at least take backup with her from now on. She didn't even have to use the backup unless it was absolutely needed.

"Bacon's done!" Teammate hollered, despite the majority of the team already being in the kitchen. "If ya want eggs, you can make 'em yourself," she declared before plopping down on another stool and already shoving a piece of bacon in her mouth. Teammate made a face then explained as she saw Hero's amused look, "That piece was burnt."

Teammate 2 pushed the doors open from the sleeping quarters' hall. "You burnt it?" Then, "Yes!" He didn't wait another beat before sliding in front of the stove, stealing the most blackened pieces of meat. Now it was Hero who made a face of disgust. Teammate 2 was odd like that; he loved everything burnt. Popcorn, bacon, hamburgers, caramel. He claimed he loved the tang and that it did 'funny dances on his tongue'.  Teammate liked to joke that he had a 'hidden stash of some loopy stuff' under his bed.

The final member of the team strolled in slowly, holding a newspaper. He released the paper with a hand to push his thin-framed glasses up.

"You know, you'd probably learn about the news much faster if you watched it instead of read it," Teammate jested at Teammate 3.

His response was to recollect his paper in both hands. "Maybe for you," was all he said. Teammate 3 had the capability of, easily said, speed reading. He took in information- words and numbers- faster than a machine. He could finish an entire newspaper, images included, in just seconds if his hands could only move that fast. Hero offered to help him turn pages, but he always said he could 'manage on his own'. He reminded Hero of herself, but in a more cold and callous way.

The speed-reader slept most of the day. He had alarms set so that he could eat and read his newspapers. He read more than one each day- some in different languages, specific to differently cultured cities within the states- so that he had a very large idea of what was going on, what could potentially need the help of the team of heroes. The mass amounts of sleep was to throw away the trash, like silly rather than political cartoons, and only retain the important information he read.

Hero hadn't realized Leader left his stool until he was now returning with two plates of bacon. "Thank you." She smiled big, cheeky.

"Of course, m'love."

"Now why can't you bring me plates of bacon, Teammate 2?" Teammate huffed.

He laughed. "Because you have legs and I have no use wasting mine. They're already deteriorating. They won't do so more at your expense." Teammate 2's capability was a little more harmful than everyone else's. Every other hero on the team could use their capability whenever, no consequence. Teammate 2 had the unfortunate trait of having thin blood. And no blood thickening medication helped, most likely because he had capabilities that counteracted what the medicine did. Whatever the reason, medicine didn't help. When Teammate 2 used his powers, his blood thinned further, his skin shriveled, and sometimes it didn't always return to flushed skin. His feet were practical bones; it's why he always wore shoes, even in his sleep.

Teammate huffed. "Teammate 3?"

"No," he said, not looking up from his paper. He'd already turned the pages various times. Hero figured he was probably reading a completely different paper at this point.

"Alright, fine. Guess I have to get my own second plate of bacon."

There was the sound of a crash on one of the televisions in the bar. The whole team turned around, even the speed-reader, who said shortly after turning, "I could have told you that was going to happen if Teammate hadn't been distracting me."

"Hush it!" Teammate said quietly and worked to mute the other t.v.'s.

On the news, there was a building crashing, pieces falling off and undoubtedly meeting the ground crushing whatever- whoever was beneath and couldn't get out in time. It was only a matter of time before the whole building fell and who knew how many people were inside of it?

Leader said hurriedly, "Hero, go. Use your capabilities. Go, go, go." She didn't wait to hear the other orders, to know what her teammates would be doing. She ran.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer III: Tokyo Love Story

“Fantasy Hotel Room 308A.” That was the text he got from Lu MIngfei, known as Akira to Hydras, when he inquired of Erii’s location. He sighed loudly with annoyance. That was a Lover’s Hotel! And a well-known one at that.

He stilled his temper. It accelerated his breath and pulled against his stitches. That guy was getting bolder and bolder.

He kept to muted colors under his trenchcoat. A ball cap and sunglasses hid his identity on the street. When he arrived at the hotel is was during the day and no one was checking in so the front desk clerk was watching TV and didn’t even notice when he walked in. He took the elevator to the third floor and knocked on the door to the suite.

As Akira opened, he removed his sunglasses to aim the full force of his cold-eyed stare down at his Shatei.

Akira flinched. “It’s not what it looks like! This was the only-”

Chisei shoved his way inside. “Erii?”

She was sitting on the tatami in front of a TV that displayed a paused game of Street Thug, dressed in only a T-shirt and shorts. There were shopping bags everywhere and a variety of outfits strewn about the room. The trash bin was lined with bags from food delivery and filled with empty boxes of fried rice.

She grinned at him. “Big Brother!” She signed at him.

“How are you feeling?” He walked past Akira, giving him a slightly less intimidating glare. 

She gave him a thumbs up and popped up from the floor with the wireless controller which she shoved into his hands.

“I heard about what happened to our headquarters. What are we going to do now?” asked Akira

“Let me worry about that.” He turned back to Erii who had picked up her controller. He looked around at the clothing. There was also some jewelry and toys.

She was scrawling on the notepad and then showed him. “Akira bought me tickets to the six flags! They’re discounted because we go close to closing time! Brother come too? Please.”

He looked into her crimson eyes. He held out his hand and accepted the notepad and pen from her and wrote. “Okay. I’ll come.”

Akira, suddenly mindful of  the mess the room, gathered the clothes in a pile and started putting them away only to have Erii seize his arm and shove the notepad in his face.

“Erii wha... oh... oh! I uh... I guess I need to buy another ticket!” He looked up at Chisei and his face turned a little red. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Chisei’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Finish cleaning up.”

He returned to the video game. He wasn’t nearly as good as Akira but Akira played for hours at a time. He understood why.

When he first found Lu Mingfei without his memories and assigned him his staff to care for him and explain his presence, he didn’t notice the purchases that staff was making. Only a few days later, Erii had become more obsessed with online Street Thug. Particularly certain times of the day when she HAD to play online.

Usually, she was after him to play all the time, but he was suddenly free of her presence. She confessed to him that there was someone she enjoyed playing with because she actually had to try to win and sometimes she even lost.

Once it was clear that Mingfei was not going to get better any time soon, he brought him into the fold of the Hydras and they met for the first time. It wasn’t long before they realized. The moment she invited him to play as his knew underling, they recognized each other’s user names. They pointed at each other in recognition.

He had no idea all this was going on. They were joined at the hip after that. He took over her Pokemon Go! account, they started playing a larger variety of games, first as competitors, then as coop teammates, dominating Starcraft and League of Legends, and Call of Duty.

As High Patriarch he didn’t have time to monitor this and, at first, he approved of it. After all, he didn’t have time to play with her.

Now, here in the hotel, she beat him handily again and again. He couldn’t help but smile. When was the last time they played like this? He put one arm around her and hugged her close. “When are you going to let me win one, huh?” 

She held her hand in a sign of ‘never’. He glanced behind him and Akira ducked away around the corner where he was sitting next to a window. He took her notebook and wrote down. “Did he do anything inappropriate?”

She tilted her head. 

Chisei pursed his lips. How to explain?

She took the notepad and started writing and writing... and writing.... He blinked and then he waited.

She handed him the notebook.

“Akira took me out of home because he was worried that I might get lost because we were moving. I saw a store and I wanted to shop. He watched me shop. He said I looked pretty. He helped me get jewelry and then he helped me pay for it. I forgot how to cross the street and he told me how to cross the street. And then I got some shoes. I went to the toy store and I played the claw game. He spent all his change and didn’t get anything. It was funny but he got mad so we got more coins until we can win. I got a toy dog.”

“Then I saw the ferris wheel and I thought it was pretty so he got me the tickets.  And then we went to the hotel. He was upset about the fire. He took me to the hotel because he thought the street might be danger. Then we played video games. Then after that we woke up and played more games and I got fried rice.”

“I’m sorry if  any of that was inappropriate. He didn’t mean it. Can we still go to the six flags?”

Chisei gazed at the notebook for several seconds. He handed it back to her and nodded.

Erii wanted to soak before the trip to the amusement park. Chisei spent the time staring out the window of the hotel. The past twenty four hours was nothing but brutality, destruction, death and disillusionment. He saw more darkness on the horizon. And yet...

He glanced at Akira, who was fidgeting in the corner. “Thank you. I’m in your debt.”

“I... didn’t really do anything. She just dragged me around the city...” He laughed nervously.

“Just take it, Akira.”

He stopped chuckling, though he kept that strained smile on his face. “Oh... Alright.” The smile faded. “Did... something happen?”

“Let’s... not talk about it yet.”

The bathroom door opened. 

Erii walked up in a trendy, avant-garde dress with no sleeves or shoulders or back, black and white and red, with an elaborately patterned skirt.

He huffed a laugh at Akira’s stunned expression. She was very, very beautiful. “Alright. Let’s go.”

They got a taxi to the amusement park. Many families were leaving. There was almost no wait on the rides and it was full of young people who had lots of time and energy with little supervision.

He hung back at a slight distance and watched her drag him around. She had the map and didn’t always tell him where she wanted to go. He just followed her. First, was the rollercoaster because of course it was. He shook his head when she invited him. He was nervous about his fresh wounds and made a lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom while they got on board.

Erii was dying. How was he going to tell him? How was he going to tell her? Their relationship was doomed from the very beginning.

Akira was sick after the ride and they had to take a break while he lay on a bench.

The stars were coming out and the lights were coming on. The place would close in about an hour and a half but there was plenty to do... if only Akira could get up...

“Hey! You!” He turned as someone shouted at him. 

A man in clown make up was sitting in a glass box over a pool of water. 

“Oh... its this thing.” Chisei turned back around, ignoring him.

“Yeah you! You think you’re some sort of secret agent? What’s with those sunglasses? Trying to hide your crossed-eyes?” The man cackled like that was the biggest burn ever.

“Who wears sunglasses in the dark! What are you blind? If you’re not, you sure are now! MORON!”

He chuckled until Erii walked forward, arms stiff at her sides. 

“Woah! Heyheyhey!’ He grabbed her arm. “No... Erii...”

“Want a piece of this, little girl!” The clown taunted. “I bet you couldn’t dunk me! What you gonna do? Huh?”

“Erii!” Chisei barked. He pulled her away. “This is ... he’s paid to do this!”

The Clown continued. “Hey! You gonna let that girl stick up for you? Who’s the real pussy here? Eh?!” The clown, smelling blood and money, in the water turned up the heat. 

Chisei tensed. Okay, the guy was pushing his buttons now.

Akira sat bolt upright. He looked at Erii’s furious expression and Chisei’s desperate attempts to keep her from ending this carnival employee’s life.

He got up, still slightly dizzy. “HEY! You can’t talk to her that way!”

The clown got more excited. “What are you gonna do huh! Come here! Bring it! Your skinny arms probably can’t even hit the target! Hahahah!” He cackled as Akira came closer. “Come here and show her who’s the biggest loser tonight!”

Chisei clapped his hand over Erii’s mouth. Her eyes had gone completely yellow and she was furiously fighting him. Chisei was panicking as he saw all these people becoming curious about the spectacle and walking over. They were all in danger!

“Akira... you’d better...” He growled through clenched teeth. He watched as he paid the operator and received a single ball and was led to the to a line where he was to throw it.

The clown leaned forward. “Hey everyone come and watch this chick! Yeah, the only balls you got is the one in your hand!”

Akira tossed the ball up in the air and caught it and then turned and walked away.

“What are you doing? Chickening out already? Come back here!” 

Akira took about seven paces away, turned, lifted one knee and hurled it. The ball zoomed straight like a rocket, hit the target, pushed back the lever and shattered it.

The clown’s screech perfectly cut when he hit the water. 

The crowd that had gathered around whooped and hollered with glee. As Akira turned around, there was a flash of gold in his eyes.

Hot-shot. Just a little bit. He was skinny, a bit of a nervous wreck in normal circumstances. Anime fan, gamer and all around geek.

But now, he was acting like dunking a carnival clown was as much a serious thing as executing a criminal. It was the most ridiculous situation Chisei had been in in a while, but if you looked at Akira now, it was like he had slain a dragon. 

Chisei let out short laugh and looked down at his sister to see if she had the same opinion and his smile vanished.

The gold in her eyes was replaced by her usual color, but her eyes were wide and fixed on him, oblivious of anyone else, including him. Color rose in her cheeks. 

The carnival operator approached Akira with a large bear which he was surprised to accept.

Chisei watched as Akira came to her with the bear. She lifted her arms and accepted it. Not taking her eyes off his face.

Chisei was the last of his clan. His sole responsibility was running the Hydras. He thought he would be able to run away to France and sell sunscreen. Tachibana had promised him that if he defeated the Devil Clan and protected the family secrets, he would take over as High Patriarch and Chisei would be free. 

But now he just found himself on that same treadmill of responsibility. Defeating the Devil Clan, caring for his dying sister, and making sure that Cassell girl didn’t make it off the island.

Akira was from Cassell. Eventually, he would have to return there, by will or by force. This Akira persona was just that... a persona. It wasn’t real any more than her video games were real. He’d be naive to set that aside. That’s why he tried to keep him away from her for so long. But there was no way for him to completely do that so long as he let them play together and he didn’t stop letting them play together. How could he?

Erii would never understand even if he explained but she would obey him. He knew her. She trusted him. If he told her now to walk away from Akira, never talk to him again, she’d comply. She’d say okay and it would be a lie. Just like Akira’s okay at the tattoo parlor had been a lie. It would damage their relationship. Her life would be lonelier and emptier and it would be the last days of her life!

He walked up to Akira. “Good job. Now... I think we need to go to that Ferris Wheel before it closes.”

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

A Little Family All My Own - fic

For @mayleebaby28! Thank you for donating to my fundraiser and being one of the kindest persons I’ve ever met on this hellsite. <333 Their reward request was an open prompt.

Characters: Kon-El, Tim Drake, bit of Damian and less of Bruce. Summary: Kon-El has a little brother named Jon. A/N: This is purposely vague and kind of universe-mixing (preboot, rebirth, whatever else) because I’m not reading current comics with Kon in it and only know what out of context panels I see. Does he have a baby? Is he married? I don’t know. So ignore all that. Damian also did not let Kon in the house, but knew he was there, and had recently had a similar conversation with Jon. So, he’s just a smart baby.

~~

The air in the manor always seemed different when a Kryptonian was visiting.

So when Tim slowly closed the front door behind him, he quickly began listing in his brain. No emergencies that he knew of from the League, or cases any of his siblings might have called in help for, or even holidays or birthdays.

Jon visiting Damian after school? It’d been a while since the two had had a sleepover, or time to be just friends outside of teammates.

No. As Tim passed the parlor, he could see Damian in there reading a book, absently petting the cat lying on his chest.

Clark visiting to talk about news or politics on his way between Metropolis and Kansas?

Nope, not that either, as Bruce appeared in the parlor out of the door connecting to the kitchen, newspaper under his arm and carrying two steaming mugs of tea for himself and Damian.

He gave Bruce a wave and smile when he glanced up, but continued towards the stairs without a word.

Kara here, with Dick maybe? Since the girls tended to stay with Barbara at the clock tower.

No, Dick is in Bludhaven, and the visits are rare these days. And even if he was here, he’d have been found with Damian at least.

So, he thought as he climbed the stairs and walked towards his room, who else would that leave?

But then he put his hand on the handle, turned it, pushed the door open. And found someone lying on his bed.

He blinked. Oh. Yeah.

Kon.

Kon, who’d been stuck in space and time for the last however many years. Kon, who he just refound, and so much had changed between them already.

Kon, who used to break into his city and apartment and office building all the time, so why is he surprised that it’s happened now, even after everything?

“Hey, Kon.” He said anyway, nonchalantly. Kon was sprawled dramatically along the end of his bed, arms spread from his sides as he stared blankly at the ceiling. “What’s up?”

Kon didn’t answer. Just sighed deeply.

“Everything…okay?” Tim tried, closing the door behind him. “What’s wro-”

“I have a brother.” Kon whispered.

Oh. Yeah. That was one of those big changes.

“…I know.” Tim offered. That seemed to get Kon out of his stupor. “I’ve met him.”

“Of course you have.” He snorted, sitting up. He dropped his elbows to his knees. Stared at the floor for a moment, then glanced over. “His name’s Jon. He’s…ten?”

“Correct.” Tim walked forward. “Have you met him yet?”

“No, I…” Kon shook his head as Tim sat next to him. “I don’t know…how.”

A pause.

“But you do.” Kon hummed. Tim cocked his head to the side. “You had a brother show up in your life when he was ten.”

“Well, sure. But Damian and Jon could not be more different if they tried.” A slight smirk, as Tim thought about it. “Which makes it pretty funny that they’re best friends, honestly.”

“Tim, I’m serious.” Kon huffed. “I know Damian was…a monster back then and Jon probably isn’t, but…what am I supposed to do here?”

“I can’t answer that, Kon. You know that.” Tim sighed. “Damian and I aren’t biologically related. You and Jon are.”

“Still…” Kon shrugged. Tim watched him knowingly. “…What’s he like?”

Tim smiled. “He’s cute. Very…eager. Damian says he’s like a puppy sometimes.”

“…So a mini-Clark.” Kon smiled too.

Tim laughed. “A little, yeah. But also so very obviously Lois’s son.” A twist of his lips to think. “He’s a little…naive, though. But I guess most ten-year-olds are. My only experience with ten-year-olds is…Damian. And he’s a freak.”

Kon chuckled softly. “But you and the kid are good now.”

Tim shrugged himself. “We’re good enough. A lot…a lot happened while you were gone, Kon. Put a lot of things in perspective, for the both of us.”

Kon nodded. “Am I…I don’t…what should I be feeling?”

“About Jon? Whatever you want to feel.”

“I want to say I feel replaced.” Kon admitted, gently wringing his hands together. “But that would like…be like saying I ever wanted to be Clark’s son in the first place.”

“Do you feel replaced?” Tim pushed. “Because I know I did. So if you do, that’s totally normal.”

Kon shook his head. “Not really. I think I just feel…nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Because now it’s not just Clark. Now there’s two people who have my DNA. Now, I…I actually have a little family. Not just an unknowing sperm donor who’s doing his best. Now I have a little brother.” Kon’s voice became lighter and quieter and airy in disbelief the more he spoke. “That makes me a big brother. A real big brother. And…how do I do that? How do I be a big brother? How do I protect him? Am I even supposed to? Should I keep my distance? Should I bother at all?”

“Kon, relax. You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Tim put a hand on his shoulder. Squeezed until Kon took a deep breath.

“And then…the other problem.” Kon whispered, and when he looked up at Tim, he looked terrified. “Lex.”

Tim paused, blinked.

“Does Lex know about Jon? If I go meet him, will Lex find out? Will Lex try to use him against me? Will Lex try to hurt him?” Kon was shaking his head, and already his eyes were starting to mist. “I can’t let Lex hurt a ten-year-old, Tim. I can’t let this kid get hurt because of me.”

Tim blinked twice more, then laughed out loud. “You Supers, I swear.”

“What?!”

“I’m assuming Clark told you about Jon, right?” Kon nodded. “Didn’t he mention that Jon’s been developing his own Kryptonian powers? That he’s been going by Superboy for the last year? That he’s already tougher than my whole family combined?”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s ten.” Then a frown. “Or are you saying you’re fine with letting Damian go out on his own, say, against his stupid mom just because you know he’s really well trained?”

Tim returned the frown. “Low blow, man. I’m sure Clark told you what happened to Damian too.”

Kon looked down in remorse. Bit his lip and nodded absently. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“…I get your point though.” Tim admitted. “And it’s…adorable, that you’re already so worried about him. But I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about. Trust me, Jon’s already been through some real shit, worse than Lex could probably ever throw at him, and came out better on the other side.”

Kon didn’t move, but his body language said he didn’t quite believe that.

Tim smiled again. “…You love him already, don’t you?”

“Clark showed me a picture of him and Krypto.” Kon mumbled in embarrassment. “And he’s so fucking precious I want to die.”

Tim snorted and pushed Kon’s shoulder. Kon smiled weakly.

“What do I do, Tim? How do I…approach him? Should I just do it? Talk to Lois and Clark first? What kind of things does he like, should I bring him a present?” He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. Stared at his shoes for a full minute in silence. Long enough for Tim to tune in to the rest of the house. Heard Titus barking, and the front door open. Soft voices in the foyer.

And as Tim was slightly distracted, Kon whispered: “Do you think he knows about me?”

Well, Tim couldn’t answer that.

“Do you think Clark told him anything? Or did he think I was gone for good, so just kept it all a big secret from the kid?” Kon breathed.

Tim silently listened, but found himself tuning back in to the voices in the hall. There was a group of people. Adults, female and male. Another dog? A child, or children. He could hear Damian talking to that one.

“And if he doesn’t, should I even bother?”

Someone on the stairs, someone walking towards Tim’s room. A dog trotting behind.

Then, a gentle knock, followed by the door immediately opening anyway. Damian appeared, looking curiously around the room before landing on the bed. He glanced at Kon only briefly, and didn’t seem all that surprised to see him.

“Drake.” He said instead, as Titus barreled into the room, trotting immediately towards Kon and giving him his best tail wag.

“What’s up, kid?” Tim asked nonchalantly, felt Kon sit up straight next to him, staring just as curiously back at the youngest of the Bat clan.

“The Kents are here.” Damian hummed, almost like he knew. And maybe he did. Maybe he knew Kon was here. Maybe he was the one who let Kon into the house, and showed him to Tim’s room. Maybe he knew what Kon’s dilemma was. Maybe he was the one who called the Kents over, under the guise of something else.

Regardless, he said nothing else. Just waited for Tim to nod in confirmation, then disappeared back into the hall.

“…Well.” Tim huffed, standing. Titus wagged his tail harder, and began tugging at Kon’s sleeve to make him follow Tim. Tim watched Kon with a smile, then held his hand out to him. “Only one way to find out, don’t you think?”

[theredconversegirl]

Hiding Under The Shadows | SasuSaku Ficlet

Hey!

This fluff piece came to me and I had to write, I’m not sure if it’s any good or if it makes sense but, let’s see! And I’m dedicating this ficlet to my beloved friend -- and home country sister -- @mikasaasqueenx​ ❤️ thank you for all your support amiga!

Rating: T |  Word count: 1610 |  Read here too:  AO3  |  FanFiction

Summary: “because they will only exchange one thousand-and-one unspoken words with their eyes, and even with this mutual knowledge, they pretend, and they evade.”

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or anything related, unfortunately.

---- *.* ----

He waits for her outside her door. He doesn’t need to knock; she knows he’s there.

He leans against the opposite wall, knee bent, and a foot pressed against the concrete. His hands are buried in his pockets, and he wonders if this temporary shade will do any good against the burning midday sun.

It's hot. It's stiflingly disgustingly hot. It's the end of summer and it seems Konoha was hit by one last heat wave before the season is over.

He hears the click of a door opening and slamming shut right after — without any grace or covertness.

She bounces down through the steps that take her to the street, the white sundress is flowing around her thighs, and he watches as it billows like a cloud around her endless legs. Her untamed pink hair is for once, just below her shoulders, and he remembers she told him she needs a haircut.

She hums a tune with each step, and he shifts his gaze up, looking for that glint of glee that is certainly on her—

What's that… covering her eyes?!

He must have muttered that out loud, because she laughs and arches a pink eyebrow. She has the nerve to look amused and places a hand on her hip.

"Haven't you seen sunglasses before, Sasuke-kun?"

Maybe? He's not sure. Isn't that a civilian thing?

"My aunt gave me them; she knows I'm a Kunoichi, but she came to visit and brought me this. She said that every girl needed one anyway. Besides, it protects my eyes from that crazy UV light."

UV light? Girls needed that for..?

Giving up, he shrugs and falls in step beside her, hands still deep in his pockets.

---- *.* ----

He finds out, very quickly, that the black thing annoys him.

It covers her eyes. It covers probably a third of her face. And he can't see what she's thinking – Yeah, because he can do that. She tells him everything through her eyes — even though she really doesn't know that.

When she notices his frown and pretty pout, she stops to assess her teammate. What's got him in a twist?

Not waiting a second longer, Sasuke takes advantage of her distraction to lift a hand and snatch the offending accessory away from her face.

She yelps, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. A hand goes up to retrieve the object but he's taller and he hovers the piece inches away from her dainty fingers. She jumps once and twice – and she's not fooling anyone, because they are both ninja and they know she could jump up to the rooftop without any strain.

He keeps this up for a little longer, and he learns that he enjoys teasing her, if only to see her all flustered and in her upset-not-really-upset mood. In the end, he thinks that at least this damned object gave him that.

When she gives up, he brings the shades to cover his own eyes. It's a vintage model she says, a clear reference to classic 80's movies. Movies that both ninjas didn't really watch — for lack of time, that is.

He swipes his bangs out of the way with expert fingers that find their home in his pockets in a heartbeat after. The pitch black strands fall over his foreheads and eyes — now covered by the sunglasses — in almost slow motion, and she stills.

She stills and forgets how to breath; because who cares if they are in the middle of the street? Who cares if Naruto is waiting on them for lunch? Who cares if he stole her sunglasses?

Her sunglasses? She's definitely gifting it to him now.

"What?" He barks — because he can only take so much fishy-eye-mouth-agape-stares from her.

She blinks, eyes focusing again and travelling quickly up and down. She clears her throat and moves her hands behind her back. Bouncing on her heels, she says without any tinge of hesitance, "You look good."

"Do I now?"

She only nods her head sheepishly.

He smirks then, and it's possible to feel the cockiness pouring in waves from him.

Ever since he came back for good, they have grown closer. From friends to best friends, and now they are in this phase where they cross lines that are past friendship. They have their own banter and internal jokes, and they often flirt — even though sometimes it's more involuntary than intentional — in their own awkward way.

Let's not forget to mention the open stares and the accidental-not-so-accidental touches.

It's not a secret, really. And it goes unsaid that they both know how things are and how they could go terrible wrong in a heartbeat. Still, aware of the possible consequences, they play in dangerous waters, crossing these invisible lines without a second thought.

Shamelessly, he feels as if he was the last cookie of the package, and he asks: "Why?"

"You look cool," she blurts out and then repeats, "…all badass and cool."

"Sakura"

She looks up at him now, searching for endless obsidian pools that are safely covered from her intense gaze. And then she waits for his words, for his next move, for his dismissal, for anything really – because she'll always wait if it is for him.

"I always look cool. You've said this since we were genin."

"You're right, you don't need shades to look cool." But they sure make me want to eat you up, she thinks.

"Hn."

"But they make you seem mysterious." Sakura says instead.

He agrees again and pushing her luck she adds, "It's hot."

"Yeah, it is."

And for a moment, surprise and disbelief surrounds her. She tries very hard to stifle a laugh and it's almost unsuccessful at the task.

"Thankfully it's the last week of summer." He continues.

She burst out in tears then — not negative of any kind. She laughs so hard she cries, and he's not really sure what he did, or what she saw that was so funny.

Does he really think she's talking about the weather?

She sobers up and pretends her own silliness was never there. It's a common thing between them; she has her moments which are questionable for the socially inept shinobi, but he never asks, only throws her a "Tch" like most times.

She only prays to Kami that he doesn't ask for an explanation this time.

---- *.* ----

"Aren't you going to give it back?"

It's almost half past three in the afternoon. They had ramen with Naruto and talked for a long time until the blonde had to go back to his duties. Then the raven-haired nin asked her if she wanted ice-cream. She accepted promptly, not even thinking why he would want to eat something that he despised so much.

He cocks his head her way and arches a brow. And the movement is so Sasuke and it's so intensified with the addition of her sunglasses that she bawls her hands into fists and tries hard to hide how the scene brings uncontrolled shivers up and down her spine.

"I thought you didn't like them." She jerks her head toward the attachment, because she can't really trust her hands to be steady right now.

"I don't." And at the risk of losing the sight of her eyes if he returns the item, he quickly adds with finality, "I'm testing it."

She makes an amused sound and crosses her arms tightly in front of her, the position frames her chest perfectly. The low neckline of her sundress is decent, but the new position of her arms and the punctual sway she adds to her steps threatens lower exposure of—

He quickly averts his gaze and thinks of anything else — of birds, trees, and clouds, of food and ice-cream—

He grunts, scolding himself mentally, as the simple word brings back the image of Sakura eating her ice-cream a mere fifteen minutes ago. The white vanilla cream covering her lips, her tongue darting and swiping at the cold treat with an expertise that turned his train of thoughts in a millisecond.

Shit.

Shaking his head, he tries to clear his head using a different approach. He recalls his last battle with Naruto, muttering each movement in sequence until he can only see analytical possibilities and jutsus.

When he's collected, he extends a hand — as a peace offering – giving her beloved sunglasses back.

She squeals and instantly picks it up. She puts it on, then she pauses, looks at him and moves the accessory up to her forehead and past her hairline. She lets it rest there.

The item holds her hair in place, her bangs that were framing her heart shaped face are no longer in the way. Her face is clean and startlingly bright. He can see everything; her chin, her plump lips, her button nose, and — and her damn viridian eyes.

While his stilling at her stunning features is momentary and almost imperceptive for the pinkette, it starts a storm behind his dark eyes. And he curses his luck, because his plan failed miserably.

The only time he wanted her eyes covered, because he can't really look her in the eyes without hinting at his frenzied uncontrolled thoughts he had not even two minutes ago, she won't use the damn thing for its own purpose!

Sakura resumes their walk back towards her place. She had promised him homemade iced tea, as he was so kind and paid for her ice-cream.

The last Uchiha follows suit, a mere step behind her. He makes a mental note to stop by the sunglass store on the way and muses if it's ok to wear them indoors.

[ecotone99]

[SP] Monday Mail- very first post on reddit

MONDAY MAIL

Ugh, I knew this was coming. I spent the weekend doing no work when I really should have gotten a head start on this crazy week, so I knew this was coming, I did, but still I find myself being immensely irked when I am quite unpleasantly awakened by a rush of incoming instant messages. To be clear, I say I was awakened, but my eyes are still tightly shut as I try my very best to put off what is surely an unpleasant flurry of correspondences prodding me to get to work.

All the croo-coo-croos (rather elegantly referred to as "IM alerts", but trust me, at 7am on a Monday morning, they all sound like IM foghorns) above me, all the fluttering... I estimate at least 30 IMs are now above-head and out of those, at least 5 "urgent" ones with the extra loud alert (a shrill squawk instead of the default gentle coo-croo). There'll be feathers shed all over my bed for sure, if the loud flapping is anything to go by. I must have left my window open (I never learn) yesterday, and they've found their way in. What! A! Cacophony!

Speaking of foghorns, my alarm was set for 715am and it hasn't even rung yet, but these IMs from the office early birds (ha ha) have come pouring in without mercy! I pull the covers over my head to drown out the crescendo of flapping wings and avian cries. The thin summer duvet is, of course, no match for the orchestra circling my bedroom ceiling. I knew I shouldn't have registered to receive work IMs at home!

I am now fully awake and growing tired of the auditory assault. I suppose it's best I deal with the urgent ones, at least, so the poor birds can stop their unusually loud squawking. Whoever thought up instant messaging is a curse on all corporate employees! Gone are the days when mail was sent by internal post and took at least 3 days to arrive on your desk. These days, it's scribble a note (don't even bother with grammar!) "Whr is mthly report?" put it in the harness of your trusted courier, and flap flap flap, a short flight later, your colleague (who, by the way, may not choose to start his job at the ungodly hour of 7am, but who cares, right?) receives your note in 30 minutes! Less, if they live close to the office! With the growing IM industry, phone companies have switched to providing couriers instead of phone lines- a much better business, of course, as the commodity prices of unicorn hair required to power the phone lines now cost more than a human lung. I blame the unicorn poachers for this. In any case, now making a phone call costs something ridiculous like 3000 dollars per minute for a local call! Insane!

Oh great, now my phone is ringing. Argh, this is going be one of those Mondays. I throw back the covers and took 2 strides to the phone on the wall. "He-", before I even finish with my intended "-llo", my teammate Stan barks down the phone at me. "Khai! Khai, did you receive my IM? I sent it a whole 15 minutes ago! Will you please reply? I've got just the one courier now, the other 2 are at the vet, and I need to send out another IM to Marie in accounts for the monthly sales reports. Khai, you hear me? Hello?" Verbal diarrhoea , but I can hardly blame him. Given the soaring price of calls, we've been given strict instructions by HQ to use phone calls only when of the "utmost importance and/or urgency". Otherwise, it's IMs all the way! God, I hate IMs. Have I said how much I hate IMs?

Oh hey, Stan. Good morning to you, too. I'm well, and no, I'm not a morning person, but that's okay, because you are and the world revolves around you! Geez. This, I say in my head. I've been told off by HR before for using "inappropriate words at work".

Out loud, I return the verbal rap "Hey Stan! Good morning! Yes, I'm on it. Right away. Happy to do so. Now remind me, which courier is yours? Oh, right, the brown one? There're at least a half dozen brown pigeons here.. you have to give me something more. Right, speckled with white and with a neon yellow note holder? Yes, yes clever trick painting it neon. Okay, yes I've got it. I'll send it back in the next 5 minutes!" and I promptly hang up. Good. That shouldn't have been more than 1.5 minutes. We've all become rap gods since HQ started crawling up our asses whenever we made a phone call.

I hopped on my bed and reach up into the circling mass of pigeons. A swift grab at Stan's pigeon. Took out the scroll of paper on which was his precious IM, grabbed a pencil, scribbled a standard response "got it, will look into ASAP whn in. Rgds, Khai", stuffed the IM back into the holder on the courier pigeon's foot, opened my window wide, and as gently as I can muster in my current state, chucked the dratted bird out the window. The bird hovered at my window for a second, throwing me a dirty look for chucking it with more force than necessary, then swiftly flapped away back to Stan in the office.

1 down, another... I looked up and did a quick count...... 33 more IMs to go.

I trudge into the toilet to get ready, the birds flapping behind me and hovering above my head as I picked up my toothbrush.

Today's going to be a long day.

Thank you for reading, all constructive criticism welcomed.

This short story is dedicated to WKA, who thought up the concept of pigeon mail. He mentioned to me on a lazy weekend how funny it'd be if we received mail from birds and your friend calls you up to ask you to return his bird cos he needs it, and you'd grab his bird, read his note, then chuck the bird out the window to go home. This guy says the darnedest things, and sometimes these turn out to be really good story ideas. In any case, without him there'd be no avian mail short story.

submitted by /u/CharlotteduMonde [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/338ai7y

[therearemonstersinthedark]

Astronautical Ch 19: Picking Fights with the Past

A Guardians of the Galaxy Fanwork

Pairings: Peter Quill / Gamora (one-sided)

Genre: Adventure, general

Word Count: 4.5k

Rating: T to be safe, mild gore

Links: Fanfiction.net || Ao3

Summary: Before the meetup on Traxxon III, the Guardians try to relax and prepare, but some inner turmoil and bad blood make for a rough night.

Author’s Notes: Title is from ‘Sorry About Your Parents’ from Icon For Hire

Chapter 19: Picking Fights with the Past

Peter hung around long enough to give Yondu a very brief version of the events that occurred in the other universe, stopping after the death of Ronan and creation of the Guardians. He didn't see any reason to tell the Ravager captain that his own men had mutinied and that Peter had met his father, who had ultimately lead to Yondu's own death. Yondu didn't ask any questions, and by the time the captain let him go, Peter still wasn't sure if he believed anything he had told him. He didn't have time to worry about that right now, though. They had a little under a half of a cycle left until the designated time.

On his way back to the ship, Cosmo met up with him with a sharp bark.

Brother Peter! The cheerful, heavily accented voice boomed in Peter's head as he was descending the last flight of stairs into the hangar. The dog was waiting for him at the base, tail held high and waving back and forth.

"Hey Cosmo, what's up?" he asked as he made his way to the bay floor.

Cosmo will be accompanying Peter's group during the trade, Cosmo answered, falling into step as they made their way together towards the Milano. Cosmo thinks it would be best if he boarded now, and would like to place a, howyousay, curtain over green woman's mind.

"A curtain?"

Da. Is like... camouflage. In case anyone tries to peer into her mind. Will not hold up to close scrutiny, but will reassure anyone who tries to touch it from a distance.

"Oh. That sounds like a good idea. Thanks man."

Is no problem.

"No really it's... not to sound ungrateful, but, why? Why... all of this? Why are you willing to go so far to help me?"

Cosmo and Peter are brothers. Cosmo tilted his head up at Peter, like he was confused by the question. Are Earth-brothers and Light-brothers and Cosmo knows that this is wrong path. Universe must be returned to correct course, and Cosmo believes Peter can do that.

Peter swallowed thickly. Cosmo's faith in him was both reassuring and terrifying. It also confirmed Nebula's theory about Peter's connection to the Light being responsible for his ability to remember the other universe, which meant that Ego would definitely remember everything that had happened. A fresh wave of guilt ground down on him as he was forced to finally consider the fate of his last unaccounted for teammate. He had no idea what had become of Mantis.

-x-

Peter and Cosmo returned to the Milano together to the sound of arguing.

"That can't be good," Peter grumbled under his breath as he sped up a bit. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now.

In the common room, Gamora and Nebula were standing on either side of the table. Gamora had drawn herself up to her full height with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, while Nebula was leaning forward with her hands on the table.

"I was trying to help you," Gamora was saying as he stepped foot on the ship.

"You were helping yourself!" Nebula shot back. "You never cared about anything else!"

"I kept you alive!"

"YOU DESTROYED ME!" she screamed, slamming her hands on the table with a loud bang.

"I didn't know!" Gamora's face remained stoic, but her voice was raising as she struggled to keep herself under control against her sister's needling. "How are you not getting this?"

"Right. And how convenient! You didn't know, so I guess everything is forgiven! Poor little Gamora has an excuse for everything. Nothing is ever your fault, is it!?"

"HEY!" Peter shouted, jogging up to the table. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

Nebula snapped her head around to shoot him a glare so heated that it actually gave him pause. After noticing his flinch, she seemed to cool off just a bit.

"Forget it," she growled, dragging herself away from the table, and storming towards the flight deck past Drax, who was standing with Groot at the far side of the table, looking ready to break up any physical altercation, but otherwise unwilling to get involved. "Just call me when we're ready for the final jump."

"What the hell happened?" Peter asked in the resulting silence. Drax just offered him a half shrug, his own arms crossed tightly as well, and Groot seemed to be at as much of a loss as Peter was.

"Gamora?" he tried. The green assassin was staring after her sister with a strange look on her face, and her lips pressed tight. She refused to meet his eyes.

Perhaps it would be best to give them some time to cool off. Cosmo trotted up the ramp after Peter, moments before the engines pulled to life and the ramp began to raise. Cosmo needs to discuss placing curtain over mind with Green woman anyways. Is best to do this alone, with no distractions.

It was a not-so subtle dismissal, and the annoyance Peter felt at being ordered around on his own ship paled in comparison to the wave of guilty relief he felt at the letting someone else take over for a bit.

Peter was so worn out, he had a hard time believing it hadn't even been a whole cycle since he had first stepped foot on Knowhere and met Cosmo. It felt more like a week ago now, and he was honestly a little grateful for the excuse to let Cosmo take over and slip into his room for a break.

-x-

In his room, Peter was disappointed to find that, despite his exhaustion, sleep would not come easy. He lay on his mattress for some while, staring at his ceiling and matching his breathing to the soft K-thunk of the engine, and wishing he had his Walkman. At the very least, it would be a comfort to be able to fiddle with it, but he must have left it in the cockpit, because when he pulled open the drawer to look for it, it was gone.

Instead, he carefully rolled the box containing the Awesome Mix Vol 2 in his hands. He had moved it to his room for safe keeping after his ship had been ransacked on the Dark Aster, and it had bounced around with all the other debri during their wild escape. There was a little rip in the corner of his mother's careful wrap job, where it must have struck against the corner of something. Even though he knew what was inside, he hadn't opened it yet.

Now that he had a chance to breath, and the escape of sleep was stubbornly eluding him, he had no choice but to actually deal with the reality of everything he had learned this past cycle. And the reality was bad. It was so bad.

This whole time, he was sure that as long as he got his team back, they could fix the stream and everything would go back to how it was before he woke up here. This was all just going to be some weird dream that he could laugh about over breakfast while he looked into the smiling, safe, friendly, faces of all of his friends. But now he had found out that even if they did pull that off, Thanos could just snap his fingers and this whole nightmare started over again, or worse. How was he supposed to defeat Thanos? The biggest warlord in the known Universe, who took out Xandar and the Nova Corps like it was nothing, and just demolished a three-galaxy stronghold?

The hair on his arms seemed to stand up as the cold realization settled in that he probably wouldn't be going back any time soon. He might not be going back at all. Ever. This broken, shattered, abused version of his friends suddenly became a lot more real. Just snapping his fingers and fixing everything felt so stupid now. He felt stupid. A burning, shameful heat crawled across his cheeks and settled heavily on his chest.

He hadn't been taking this all one hundred percent seriously. He hadn't wanted to, to be honest. Taking things seriously had never really been his strong point. It was just how he dealt with bad things; He laughed. He took his blows, he shook them off, and he hobbled onward. The wounds would heal in time, so what was the use in dwelling on them in the mean time?

'Sometimes you just have to laugh it off,' his mother had told him once, back when he was very little and she still had hair that shimmered like spun gold all around him while she cradled him and his freshly scraped knee in her lap.

'Life is funny sometimes, my little Star-lord,' she had whispered into his hair while tears slipped down her face and dripped onto his head, a receipt for a doctor's visit crumpled and shaking in her hand.

'Smile for me, Peter. No matter what, promise me you'll never stop smiling,' she had begged him with a tattered voice and eyes that couldn't quite seem to focus on where he stood beside her hospital bed.

And he had promised. And in his life, he had broken that promise precisely four times. Once when she had asked for his hand and he had fled in terror, a day that he would regret for the rest of his living days. Once, when he thought he was going to fall to his death on the Dark Aster, and Groot had burned to cinders around him. Once, when he discovered that Ego had been responsible for the loss of Meredith Quill, when Yondu had died in his arms and Peter could do nothing but cling to him and watch as he died. And once, in the engine room of the broken Milano when he had driven Nebula away and had woken up bound and betrayed in the dark.

Logically, Peter knew that his broken promise was not what had led to these terrible moments, but Peter had never been a very logical person. He didn't like not laughing because 'The real world hurts, kiddo,' as Yondu had told him once, and at the time, spitting out blood on the dirty floor of the Eclector while the Ravagers laughed around him, he had thought that truer words had never been spoken.

Peter didn't like not laughing, because when he stopped laughing he made terrible decisions. He ran away. He picked fights with people that were much bigger than him, and his friends and allies paid the price.

In the silence between his laughter, he had watched his loved ones die, and as the weight of this reality settled on him and the silence filled the room, he wondered who he was going to lose this time. The smiling faces of his friends flashed behind his stinging eyes; Groot, who had been locked in the dark and used as a punching bag, Drax, who had been thrown in that pit and left to die, Gamora, who's entire life had been a lie, Rocket, who had never once known freedom, and Mantis... He didn't know what had become of Mantis... He was afraid he'd already lost them all, and just hadn't realized it.

He didn't know how long he had spent stewing in misery and self-pity, and letting his thoughts chase each other in circles, when the door to his room opened. He was more than a bit surprised when Nebula slipped through, closing the door after herself.

"Here," was his only warning before she tossed something at him.

He caught it just before it landed on his chest and was surprised again to find it was his Walkman.

"I fixed it," she said, and Peter pulled himself up into a sitting position to open and close the little plastic door and toggle the on switch. The clear plastic screen still had little fractures tracing through it, but the tape started spinning and the first few notes of 'Come and Get Your Love' played before he shut it back off.

"Thank you," he said, setting it and the Awesome Mix Vol 2 in his lap.

"Your welcome," she said quietly, and moved to leave.

"So... what did you do?"

"What?" she asked, stopping to look back at him.

"Please," he snorted softly. "Rocket pulls this exact same crap. Whenever he does something he feels bad about, he never apologizes outright, but it's like he has to make up for it by fixing things. I finally realized, you do the same thing. Like when he stole the Anulax batteries and blamed himself for Yondu's death, then he called the rest of the Ravagers for the funeral, and slaved over repairing Yondu's arrow for Kraglin. Or when you were upset about the fight on Halfworld so you basically fixed the entire Milano on your own..."

"You're comparing me to a talking woodland creature?" she asked with a flat look.

"That's not how I think of him." Peter replied, and was surprised for a third time when she actually looked chastised and dropped her eyes.

"So..." he said, lifting up the Walkman and wiggling it slightly. "What is this about?"

"Nothing," she said with a defensive tone bleeding into her voice. Her shoulders were pulled tight and she looked like she was still debating just leaving.

Peter stayed quiet, taking a page out of Gamora's playbook when she was trying to draw a confession out of Peter and just letting Nebula work her way through the problem without pushing her, which would undoubtedly end this conversation right away.

"You weren't aware of Gamora's altered mind?" she finally let out, still not looking at him.

"No," he answered with a scrunch of his eyebrows. "How could I have been?"

"But you knew her in your universe, and she had never mentioned it there?"

"I don't think she had it there. She didn't have her parents either. She told me outright that Thanos had murdered them both in front of her. I guess, maybe Thanos thought he could control her better this way."

Nebula crossed her arms tightly and lapsed into another beat of silence.

"But she was still... her?" Nebula asked.

"What do you mean?"

"She was still Thanos's favorite?" She finally looked back up to meet his eyes. "She still... did everything that he ordered her to do, even with a free mind?"

Peter had no clue where she was trying to go with this.

"...She was still a monster?" It was a barely audible whisper, with a desperate crack.

And then something clicked, and Peter thought he might know what she was trying to say here. "Is that was this is all about?" he asked. "You think that because you did all those things with a free mind, it makes you somehow... less than her?"

"I have always been weaker than her." Peter wasn't sure he was actually meant to hear that. She was staring at something a million miles away, and was beginning to resemble a trapped animal again, and Peter realized that whatever he did here, he had to be very careful. He could easily destroy every hard-won scrap of trust that had developed between them with a few misplaced words.

Without taking his eyes from her, he set his Walkman and the wrapped present aside and scooted over to make room on the mattress. When she just curled her lip slightly at that, he sighed and slid off the bed entirely so that he was sitting on the floor with his back against it, and gestured again for her to take a seat. A breath he hadn't realized he was holding slipped out when she dropped her arms to her side and actually sat down on the floor across from him with her back pressed against the wall and her knees drawn up as though trying not to touch him in the cramped space between his bed and the wall.

"Yes. As far as I know, Gamora was never under any sort of mind control in my universe. And yes, she was still the most feared woman in the galaxies, and Thanos's favorite daughter, yadda yadda. But that doesn't matter. Whatever... method Thanos used doesn't matter. He stole you both when you were children, and forced you to do whatever he wanted. You said you were an infant when you met Gamora. Do you even have any memories of before him?"

Nebula didn't answer, but the way she seemed to crumble inward at the question told him anyways.

"You're not a monster," he continued. Measuring his hushed words carefully in the silent room. "I mean, you're not totally innocent, neither of you are, but I really don't think you're a monster. And neither does Drax, or Groot, or the Ravagers. I think they actually like you more than they like me right now." He tried and failed to keep a small note of jealousy out of that last bit, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I killed them."

"What?"

"In your universe, I killed them. Isn't that what you told Gamora?"

"Wow." Peter let out a long breath. His poor sleep-deprived brain could only take so much. "Okay, look, I'm not going to get into the details because... It's really something I don't want to talk about, but you didn't actually kill anyone, so much as you opened up the door for a mutiny that was a long time coming. A mutiny that, may have ultimately been caused by me. I don't want to start playing the blame game here, because, to be honest, none of us are going to come out of that looking too pretty. I guess it was just easier to say you did it, than to admit the part I played in it. And I really didn't want to do that at the time. I didn't realize it was bothering you this whole time, and for that, I'm really sorry."

Nebula blinked at him, her eyes wide, like she wasn't sure what to do with his apology. This was at least his third time apologizing to her since she'd saved him from the Dark Aster, but he got the feeling it wasn't something that had been a regular occurrence for her growing up.

"You've done some pretty terrible things, I'm not going to deny that, but you're not a bad person, and you're making up for it now. I mean, I'd be dead at least three times over if not for you, and who knows if I'd have been able to even find Drax and Groot. No one here is comparing you to Gamora except yourself, so do us all a big favor and at least try to stop, Okay? You're not the same, and that's fine. We don't need a second Gamora, we need you. Don't get me wrong, I love Gamora. We have this whole... unspoken thing..."

Nebula's brows raised as some of the misery melted away, replaced by what Peter could only call bemused disgust.

"That's funny," Peter laughed. "I think that's the same face she made when I told her that."

"I thought you were trying to say we weren't the same?" she shot back. Her voice was still hushed, but she was beginning to sound like her normal sarcastic self again.

"You're not, but you're definitely siblings," he said with a smile.

Nebula just let out a small snort and a tiny shake of her head, but her lips were pressed together now like she was holding back the start of a smile herself.

"So... are we good?" Peter asked.

"You're not going to tell me why you're so upset?" she asked, looking pointedly at where the Awesome Mix Vol. 2 was set on the stand by his head.

"Are you... asking me how I'm feeling?"

Nebula made a face, like she hadn't even realized what she had done, then stood to leave.

"No, wait!" he called. "I'm sorry. Come back. I actually do need to talk to someone, but it's about... Celestial stuff, and the others don't know about that yet..."

"You haven't told them?" Nebula asked dubiously, but she settled back down.

"No," he sighed. "I will, I just... It's not a conversation I'm looking forward to."

"So what is this about?"

"The thing is... there's one more Guardian," he admitted, staring at his hands.

"Another friend?" There was a note of either annoyance or suspicion in her voice. "Why have you never mentioned them before?"

"Because... She wasn't with us when we took on Ronan, and I had thought that I could make it back and none of this would matter. Remember when I told you my dad's kind of a total asshole? Well, she's kind of with my dad, and when I first got here, I figured she'd be safe there. Safer than any of the rest of us, anyways. It didn't even cross my mind that he might remember everything when no one else seemed to. Then when the dreams started-"

"Dreams?" Nebula interrupted.

"Yeah. I've been having weird dreams about... galaxies, and the Light, and something... there's something out there that always seems to be chasing me, but I can't see it. They started to get more vivid after Halfworld. I started to hear his voice, and I thought he was looking for me, but lately, I'm not so sure..." Peter thought again of that creepy version of Ego with Yondu's teeth that he'd seen in the space outside of Gamora's mind, and Cosmo's warning about other things lurking in the Blind Place. "But we were so close to getting Rocket back, I still thought I could fix this all without having to see that deadbeat again. That sounds so terrible."

"It sounds prudent," Nebula replied. "You were working with the knowledge you had, to take the quickest path to your goal."

Peter leaned forward and rubbed a hand across his face. His forehead was warm to the touch.

"But then you told me your theory about how being a Celestial is why I remembered, and Cosmo confirmed that he remembers, too. This whole time, I've just left her there. If what you said about Thanos is true, too, then I'm not going back any time soon, and we need to go save her before it's too late. If it's not already." Peter hung his head miserably. He had wasted so much time chasing the hope of a quick fix, and that could have cost his newest friend everything. "I've wasted so much time."

"If it makes you feel any better;" Nebula started slowly. "If he did intend to kill her, I'm sure she would have been dead long before you could have possibly made it there, even if you had known."

"That... really doesn't," Peter said, looking up.

Nebula just pulled her brows together in apparent confusion and tipped her head slightly.

"Thanks anyways."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Huh?"

"If you really are intending on taking on a Celestial, then you'll need a plan and you'll need to focus. I suggest you stop dwelling on what you didn't do, and starting thinking about what you can do now. Start with retrieving Rocket and surviving tomorrow." Nebula stood and he got the sense she was done with this for now.

"Thank you, for staying," he said, still a bit surprised she'd actually done it.

"You would have bothered me with it sooner or later," She said, reaching the door. "This was more efficient."

Peter frowned and reached behind himself to grab the pillow from his bed and lob it at her, but she was already gone and it bounced off the closing door harmlessly.

For a while, he just sat on the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring at his pillow. His talk had help him break through the worst of the funk.

Nebula was right; He didn't have a plan to defeat Thanos, not even the start of one, but he didn't need one yet. The only thing he needed right now was to make it through tomorrow, and to get his friend back. If anyone could figure out a way to take down Thanos, Rocket and Nebula could. They were both terrifying on their own. If he could get them working together... who knows what crazy impossibilities they could pull off.

So he would get Rocket back. Then they would go rescue Mantis. He wouldn't consider the possibility that she wasn't there. He couldn't. Then they would do what they had always done; They would protect the Galaxies. Now that the panic had passed, Peter was surprised to find that this changed nothing right now. It changed nothing yet. But if he wanted to make it through this, if he wanted to save his friends in this universe, and if he ever wanted to get back to his, he was going to have to start taking things a lot more seriously.

He could do this. One step at a time, and with his friends at his side. It played like a mantra in his head. He could do this. They weren't dead yet.

-x-

Peter managed to get a few hours of sleep in before he couldn't take it anymore and returned to the common room. The others appeared to be equally antsy, and were seated around the table. Drax and Gamora had mugs of coffee set in front of themselves, and Peter poured one for himself before taking a seat between Gamora and Cosmo.

"Where's Nebula?" he asked, realizing someone was missing again.

"She is monitoring the ship and keeping an eye out for any enemy ships," Drax told him, laying another card down on the table between himself and Groot. Peter thought he recognized this as a game Drax had taught them all to play in his other universe. "We have been taking turns."

"I am Groot."

Peter smiled into his coffee. The likely hood of them being attacked before making it to the point was minimal at best, and the ship was fully capable of handling itself in autopilot. Groot was probably right; She was probably mostly just sleeping up there. That was fine, though, she had hardly had a chance to recover from whatever she'd been doing during their time apart, so she probably needed it.

"How are you doing?" he asked, turning to Gamora, who had been watching Drax and Groot's game with a casual interest.

Her gaze briefly flickered over to him before returning to the game, clearly not impressed by his concern for her.

"Do you want to play?" he tried. "I have another deck around here somewhere."

"Will it put an end to these awkward attempts at conversation?"

"It's your best bet." He grinned, knowing he had won.

"Fine," she said with a wave of her hand, and Peter wasted no time hunting down the spare playing deck.

End