#I guess I was absent too long and am now rambling in replies sorry^^

[mondscheinprinzessin]

For me I first got a crush on Alexsi, Tommi and Joonas. That was an interesting time.... Then I stopped crushing on Alexsi - sorry your name makes me think of someone I know - and then I started crushing on Olli.

I've never had a crush on Joel, don't get me wrong I can see he is attractive, just never developed a crush on him - may do in the future 🤷

I've had a tiny crush on Niko - especially in sharks love blood music video. 😳😳

So at the moment I'm currently crushing on Niko, Joonas, Olli and Tommi..............

It's interesting to me that you outright call it a crush and those are a lot of crushes, are you okay? xD

How dare you do my boy Aleksi so dirty :( He was the first for me and it's still going strong, no one could take the nunber one away from me (I partly blame cute Alex Mattson for this).

You will gather them all eventually is what I'm taking from your ask😄

Hm let me think. So, Aleksi was the first for me, the instant I saw him. Then I think it was Joel. It took me just a bit longer because he has this "cool kid" look perfected and that intimidated me but as soon as I figured out he's just as lost as us I took him.

Then it was Olli, because well damn it's Olli and then somehow and I really don't know when or how Joonas sneaked into my heart. It's all because of his personality.

Niko I can't get zero behind because first his confidence that makes me shy away from people and he looks too close to my brother (and honestly his twitter personality makes me dislike him strongly I just have to say it).

And I hope nobody takes this wrong but Tommi is "too manly" like you know he's tall and broad, which people associate with being a man and that never interested me. If he would show more of his personality though (or if I was a Finn being able to understand his jokes) then I would like him for sure.

But I love how almost no one can settle on just one. Like with most bands, the singer is the frontman and does most of the public work, it's the person people know the name of and are interested in, but with BC we get so much content from all of them (hello Tommi where are you?) and they're so different personality wise that they're all so likable.

[glowingbadger]

Okay, so I had a thought for our dear fox boy, Kurama.... Imagine, "trying" to tease him by going down on him only to suddenly switch it up and go down on you instead, especially when you least expect it as revenge. You're on the phone with your best friend and suddenly he's there between your legs, but you can't say anything or let your friend know.

Oh-hoo, a most excellent concept, friend- and actually plays into a couple things I've written about Kurama before too, so I guess I should have seen this coming xD

Also this all just reminded me that I HAVE to do some sketches of the YYH boys in late 90's fashion. Ugh, what absolute icons.

Kurama (YYH) x AFAB Reader

NSFW 18+ v

Kurama's hair splays out across the pillow, making him look for all the world like a lounging ingenue in a romantic painting. Still, those emerald eyes level on you with a sharp cunning that tells you clearly where you stand. He wears a subdued smile that someone who didn't know him might find pleasant, charming- but you know what the grin of a fox spirit really means.

"Feeling rather bold today, aren't you?" he says, his tone light and conversational, even as your hands run down his chest and the toned contours of his abdomen from atop his clothing.

"Well, it doesn't seem fair for you to call the shots all the time," you reply from your position straddling his hips. You like to think you sound the part of the confident seductress, but your heart leaps every time you meet Kurama's calculated gaze. You may be in the "dominant" position, but you know you haven't nearly tamed him. For now, you'll just have to try to push him a bit further.

You kiss a slow and deliberate path down the center of his torso, undoing the buttons of his shirt one-by-one, and revelling in the feeling of firm muscle shifting and flexing at your touch. Kurama lets out an openly pleasured sigh, and doesn't shy away in the slightest as your hands reach the front of his jeans. With a playful little hum, you run your hand up along the bulge of his stiffening cock beneath layers of fabric. Very subtly, his hips shift up towards your touch, and you bite at your lip as your eyes flicker up to his yet unreadable expression.

"You must be much more sensitive than you let on, Kurama," you tease, tracing his length with a single finger, "You're already this hard, after all."

Just as you'd started to feel sure of having the upper hand, he props himself up on an elbow to observe you between his thighs. One hand reaches down to caress your cheek, ending at your chin, where his thumb runs the curve of your lower lip.

"Of course I am," he replies bluntly, "It's only natural when I desire you so ardently. Besides," he goes on, his grin curling into a smirk, "If your aim is retribution for all that I've done to you, then I imagine I have quite a thrilling evening to look forward to."

So much for flustering him, or even just getting him to act a little bit shy. Your cheeks burn hot, and you mumble,

"Should have tied you up. And gagged you, while we're at it."

"Hm. Perhaps you should have," Kurama replies casually.

This bastard. Is it really this impossible to gain the slightest bit of ground on him?

Impatient for results, you undo the front of his jeans, and tug them down with his boxers, freeing his impressive member from its confines. Kurama continues to watch you comfortably as you take the base of his cock in hand and slowly drag your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can feel it twitching and swelling in your hand, hardening to its full size before too long. Frankly, you've half a mind to climb onto his lap and ride him then and there. He does so love to tease you- the chance to have him now without the usual exercise of restraint is undeniably tempting. For the time being, you satisfy yourself with gently licking and kissing his twitching manhood, letting the warmth of your breath and fleeting touches gently stimulate him.

He is clearly enjoying himself; aside from the soft murmurs of pleasure he grants you as your tongue circles the crown of his cock, his direct gaze hasn't wavered for even a moment. Still propped up above you, he absently strokes your hair in one hand as half-lidded eyes watch your attempts to provoke him.

"You mean to tease me, I see..." he says softly, his tone only hinting at his amusement. Even better concealed is the heady arousal building at his core- his desire to break this arrogant facade you've put on, to see you crumble back into obedience at his hands.

And as if by divine providence, his opportunity arrives.

The phone at the bedside table rings, and you pause to glance up at Kurama. Only the glint in his eye hints at his plan at first- but then, as you watch in disbelief, he picks up the phone before it's finished its third ring. He sits upright as he greets your friend on the line, and your body feels hot and cold all at once.

"Hm? Oh, yes- right here, in fact. One moment."

Kurama meets your eyes with a smirk and offers the phone to you with his hand cupped over the receiver. Your face is burning red, and you grumble near inaudibly,

"No fair!"

He gives a short laugh, tucking away his still-hard cock and then fixing his clothing with his free hand as he says,

"I apologize if I have ever given you the impression that I am 'fair' by nature." All at once, he catches you around the waist and pulls you down onto your back on the bed. You resist crying out in surprise, if only because when you look up at him and see the smouldering heat in his eyes, your breath catches in your chest. Then, without a word, he hands the phone to you. Biting nervously at your lower lip, you take it from him, clear your throat, and say,

"He-hey! How's it going?"

Your friend immediately launches into an excited ramble about the finale of a show she's been following obsessively for the last year and a half. Honestly, you should have expected this call- stupid of you to think you'd have the evening free with the finale airing. As she goes on about how "so many of her predictions were dead-on," Kuramas hands run indulgently down the contours of your body. Your heart races, and you can't help tensing, arching up against him just a little. Then, he's working your pants down off your hips, and you give him a pleading look that he meets like a stone wall.

"-- I mean, can you believe it?! It's like, exactly what I said would happen!!"

"Yeah, that's, uh," you struggle to keep up, but your eyes are fixed on Kurama lowering himself between your bared legs, "that's pretty wild..."

With a placade grin on his face, he kisses a trail down the inside curve of your thigh, his touches delicate and yet unreserved. Your eyelids flutter half-shut, but you force yourself to- more or less -follow the thread of your friend's rant. That is, until you feel the sting of Kurama's teeth at the soft flesh far up the inner curve of your thigh. He sucks a dark love-bite to your skin- one that you know will remind you of his presence there for days to come. Still, you manage to camouflage your gasp of shock and pleasure into a sudden cough.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, totally! Sorry, don't mind me- go on!" you babble out your reply in a hurry, knowing you won't be able to trust your voice when Kurama continues this torment. He chuckles silently behind his hand, and you pout uselessly at him. Rather than acknowledge this, he refocuses on his task as the phone rant continues. You do your best to keep a consistent stream of "Oh, yeah?" and "Wow, crazy!", all while elegant fingers spread your lower lips and warm breath teases your over-sensitive body. Then, without warning, his tongue glides firm across your aching clit. Your thighs twitch in around his head and you arch up from the bed.

"Woa--! That's... incredible!" you translate the gasp you desperately want to let out into a perhaps overly-enthusiastic reply. Fortunately, your friend is too caught up in her finale recap to police her own excitement, let alone yours. Still wearing that cocky smirk, Kurama pushes his hair back behind his ears, then returns to tease your clit with the tip of his tongue.

He doesn't let up after this, and frankly, your impulses are torn. Part of you wants to be as subtle as possible, to silently endure the slow, luxurious movements of his lips and tongue pulsing against your cunt and stiffened clit. Another part of you- the part you're fighting to subdue -wants to grab onto that silky red hair and grind against him, to rush yourself to your climax and to spare yourself further torture. But you and Kurama both know you won't be able to keep quiet if you do. So you fuss anxiously with the phone's tangled cord, shifting and squirming on the bed beneath him and biting back pleasured gasps and whimpers.

Your legs are trembling around him and you're positively soaked with your arousal and his saliva. Leaning back on the pillow, you scrunch your eyes closed and take a deep breath.

"Oh- you remember that one voice actor I told you about?"

"Yeah, uh," you struggle to pull your thoughts together, but Kurama nudges the flat of his tongue rhythmically against your clit, and your body is begging for release, "This show... was his first big on-screen thing, right?" you manage to choke out. As though pleased by your performance, your lover gives a soft hum that sends his breath fluttering over your vulnerable skin, then presses more firmly into you. His skillful tongue teases your entrance for a moment, rubbing into you while your muscles tighten, instinctively longing for friction, for something inside, for something to cling to. You're panting silently, biting at your finger to keep quiet while your friend tells you all about her latest celebrity crush.

So close. You're so dangerously close to the rush of your climax. But you hold on, every inch of your body aching with need and restraint. Kurama can obviously sense the desperate state you're in, and you know that he's savoring it. And yet, when you glance down to watch the erotic movements of his mouth, the way his eyes devour you, the way his hands grip at your hips- you realize that you don't have it in you to care about your pride anymore.

"Anyway, they're airing an interview with the cast soon, so I gotta go so I don't miss it."

The words are a beacon of hope, and while your friend apologizes for cutting out so suddenly, you assure her again and again that you don't mind.

"Really, you should... go- uh, go enjoy the thing!"

Kurama's lips seal around your clit and the dearly sensitive surrounding flesh. His tongue flicks across the hard little bundle over and over, his hands firm at your hips, holding you strictly in place. He's not holding back anymore. Your eyes roll back and your body burns, but you keep yourself silent. Just a little longer. Don't let him make you cum- not yet. He feels too good- and you know he wouldn't care if you screamed his name for your friend or anyone else to hear.

"Oh, also, we should totally grab coffee or something soon!"

"Yeah- that sounds really good-!" your back arcs up from the sheets.

"Cool! I'll call again soon, byeeee!"

You hear the click of the receiver on the other end. Your arms go limp, dropping the phone to the floor. Kurama leans over you, pushing himself against you while his tongue works your clit and you gasp aloud for him.

"Kurama! Ohhh... Oh, God- I'm-!"

A tingling, sparkling wave of pleasure explodes from your core and rushes across the surface of your skin. You can't remember the last time you came this hard, and you imagine Kurama can feel what he's doing to you. Your taste coats his tongue, one shaky hand weaves your fingers through his hair as your hips buck towards him. With one last desperate cry of his name, you relax back onto the bed, your boneless limbs making you feel like a puddle of mindless bliss.

Panting, practically gasping for breath, your unfocused eyes gaze up at the ceiling as the last tremors of your climax pass through you.

"Haa... Mm, Kurama..." you whimper out as he places one last kiss to your now soaked folds.

He crawls up atop you, and a gentle hand turns your face to him. His smile is warm and openly affectionate, and he caresses your cheek like a groom at the altar. Looking at him now, it's hard to imagine he's the same man who just put you through that unique form of torture. You're still catching your breath, and when he kisses you with all the tenderness in the world, you can hardly even reciprocate.

"Well done, my love," he says at last, "Do you think you can continue to behave for me tonight?"

Some distant part of your mind realizes that you've been manipulated- that he's utterly dismantled your attempt at dominance. You should be frustrated. You should try to regain the upper hand and show him that he doesn't always gets to be in control. Instead, your half-lidded eyes meet him and you murmur,

"Yes... I'll be good..."

[pterodactylterrace]

Title: I’ll Catch You (sequel to Falling)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Length: 1600+ words

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, awkwardness, barely proofread. 

Another day, another round of fasting cardio. I have to admit, I've been preferring the hiking trails lately. Probably because of the woman I'd met over a month ago. The way she looked at me... like a caged animal. Something wasn't right. Something was amiss with that mystery woman.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not planning some valiant white knight rescue of a woman I've met once. Ok, I've thought about it once or twice. However, I was just wanting to make sure she was alright. In all meanings of the word. I'd noticed her flinch. The way she wouldn't let me near her, even though she clearly needed help. Someone's hurt her, and I've been making myself sick over it since I let her leave.

What if something happened when she got back? I had no way of knowing if she had a safe place to return to. Had she gone back to her abuser and suffered more because of me? I can't help feeling guilty. I just wanted to see her one more time, to make sure she was alright.

So, that brings us back to today. To the same hiking trail I'd literally run into her before. It was a long shot, but I kept coming back just in case she would be here again. Even if she did come back, it was foolish to think she would return at the same time of day again. Not after what happened last time.

The good thing about being here so early, however, was being able to let Kal off his lead to snuffle around the trail and flounce about to his heart's content while I jogged. Not many other people were here at this hour, so no one to pull his attention away and have him running off to steal cuddles.

He took off ahead as we neared the stream, no doubt wanting a chance to splash around before we moved on. I slowed to a stop as I reached the small embankment, peering down as my loyal companion rolled around the mud and splashed in the water. Well, that's another bath for him, then.

"Come on, pig. You're muddy enough." I chided, carefully sliding down the slick hill to reach him. He was all to happy to see me, bounding right up and flopping around me in a dance of pure glee, flinging the muck about as he went. Great, now we're both covered in mud.  "Kal, come on." I groaned, reaching out for his collar only to have him dash away to the water again.

"Kal!" I repeated, more firmly this time, giving him a commanding look. "That's enough, it's time to go." Why wasn't he listening today? Sure, he can be a bit stubborn, but he's never outright ignored me before. I stopped short of going to fetch him myself and giving him a stern lecture about listening when I heard a sound behind me.

Like magic, there she was, accelerating down the slippery hill I'd just descended not two minutes before, but judging from her less than pleased yelps of surprise, she wasn't doing it on purpose. I acted before I even had time to think, moving myself in front of her and letting her slam into my chest, effectively stopping her downhill tumble.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She gasped, trying to regain her footing. All she managed to do, however was make me to lose my balance and flop onto my backside into the muck, her landing on me again only a moment later.

"Gravity seems to have it out for us." I joked, gently helping her to her knees, finally looking back into her eyes. I wasn't imagining things. It really was her. She still looked so scared. I don't know who did this to her, but I hate them. No one should put that look in someone's eye.

"I- I'm sorry! I heard someone yelling so I went to see what it was and I just slipped." She explained quickly, trying again to stand, her foot shooting out from beneath her and sending her toppling right back on top of me.

"Shit! Sorry!" She gasped, still wiggling against me in a vain to get back up.

"It's alright." I groaned, shifting to remove her hipbone from my groin. Her last topple had a less than stellar landing spot. At least my nuts kept her hip from getting hurt. "Let's just hold still for a minute." I suggested, realization slowly dawning over her face.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered again, freezing on top of me, out of fear or consideration, I'm not quite sure.

"Accident's happen." I sighed, slowly moving up to my elbows, lifting her frame right along with me. "Good to see you're alright."

"I'm so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?"

"Nope, I'm fine." I assured, helping her to her feet before standing myself, Kal happily padding his way over to us, snuffling eagerly at her hand. No doubt looking for treats, that piggy.

"Oh, hello." She greeted, stroking his head gently. "Are you what he was fussing about?"

"Yes, he decided he wanted to play in the mud. Guess we all ended up playing in it today." I joked, taking my chance to slip the lead back onto his collar.

"Oh, silly dog." She chided, scratching behind his ear in a way that had him craning his neck and falling over.

"Would you... like to walk with us back to the start of the trail?" I offered, my mouth acting before my brain had time to think. Something about seeing her being so sweet to someone who meant so much to me just made my brain short circuit.  

"Sure." She agreed, never taking her eyes off Kal. Quick question. Is it normal to be jealous of your dog? I am most certainly jealous of my dog right now. I really wish she would look at me like that. So relaxed and calm and... so happy.

"Kal. go on." I instructed, nodding up the mud covered hill. He bounded up it without even a second thought, dragging the leash through the mud as he went. Great. I trotted up next, looking back down to see our mystery companion staring dumbstruck at the hill. "Need some help?" I offered, kneeling down to offer a hand.

I barely heard her soft 'thank you' as I pulled her up. Such a frail looking thing. She seemed to do everything she could to shrink away and make herself smaller. Why would anyone want to do this to her?

I let her hold Kal's lead as we walked back to the trail head, my stupid brain desperately trying to come up with something to say. I should ask her to get coffee after. There's a dog friendly place not far away, and Kal seems to be the ticket to gaining her attention. But we're all three covered in filth, no way she'd go for that right now. I could ask her to meet up later... but she probably won't show up then. Especially if I can't come up with something to say. Waiting until I bumped into her on the trail again wasn't an option, either. Last time it had taken over a month to see her again.

Do I talk about Kal? That would probably be a good idea. Do I just start babbling, or do I wait for her to say something first? No, idiot, she's not going to say anything first. She hasn't said a word the entire time we've been walking. So how do I start talking? Tell her his name, my name, my address, phone number and give her my passport? That's a touch over the top. Get it together, Cavill! The trail head is less than a five minute walk from here. Just say something.

"I seem to like you." I blurted out, my eyes widening in horror when I realized what I had said. "I mean he... Kal. He really likes you. I mean, so do I, you're a very attractive woman, but you just seem to like him more, and he really likes you too." I babbled, putting my foot deeper and deeper into my mouth as I went along. I really need to put "learn to talk to pretty girls" on my to do list. Right after I finish my latest warhammer figurine. Or never. Never is a much less intimidating timeline.

It's so much easier when they just throw themselves at me. I don't have to pretend I'm not a giant nerd and a bumbling dork when they lead the conversation. Wait, are nerds still attractive right now? That was a thing, right? I could show her my custom PC. If she likes nerds, she'll definitely like that. Wait, no, that's creepy.

"Are you ok?" Her voice stopped my inner monologue.

"Yes, I'm fine. How are you?" I replied entirely too quickly, overly eager to have her continue talking. Her voice was so soft and sweet.

"You're... acting strange." She mumbled, her body regaining it's earlier stiffness, like a rabbit ready to bolt at any second. Great, my blundering just ruined everything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just..." I stopped, forcing myself to take a breath. Man up, Cavill. It's now or never. "Would you like to meet up again tomorrow for a walk?"

"Umm... I don't know." She mumbled, absently stroking Kal's head again. There's my opening.

"I can bring Kal along. I'll give him a bath first. Myself as well. Actually. I plan on taking a shower, I don't normally take baths. Showers are just easier. Baths are nice for relaxing but not for getting clean." Right back to my embarrassing rambling.

"That... that would be nice." How did that just work? Perhaps she finds awkward rambling endearing? Or it made me less intimidating. No one is intimidated by a moron. I have got to figure out how to talk to girls, and fast. I have what I'm calling a date tomorrow.

[lovelytarou]

caffeinated love

pairing: nishinoya yuu x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

tags: coffee shop!au, barista!noya, noya & reader being whipped for each other

a/n: dedicated to my beautiful, loving, sweet and supportive wife @chibishae34 💖💞❤️💕 i hope you liked this surprise and i did your bb noya justice! :c

it was a perfectly sunny day.

it was too perfect, you might add. the scene in front of you could easily fit into a studio ghibli movie, the only thing missing are the animated characters, and the soft piano music that usually accompanied the films.

you don't know what made you look at life with rose-colored lenses today, it might be because you're in a good mood, or you woke up on the right side of the bed, or the wind just brought some positive air to you. whatever it is, you're thankful for it.

you're walking around campus with a skip on your steps, a smile on your face as you grinned at the people you passed and the surroundings. to some people, it might come off as creepy, or even weird, but no one is going to ruin your mood today. not when you're so close to having your coffee.

a bigger smile tugged at your lips, looking up at the café in front you – its bold, intricate sign you're familiar with and the welcoming aura beckoning you in.

Crows' Cabin.

your favorite café that serves the best coffee ever in your campus. you couldn't have asked for more. they got your coffee right, the perfect amount of sweetness, the tinge of bitterness, and the smooth feel of the cream like a warm blanket on a cold day. not to mention, their staff is pretty welcoming and friendly, too.

what you loved most about this place is the fact that you can study in peace and the fast wi-fi that they have. it has the perfect atmosphere to do a little studying while you sip your coffee.

walking inside, you pushed the doors open, letting it emit a small ringing sound as it announces your arrival. the usual silver-haired cheery guy that greets you when you come in isn't standing in his usual post. instead, a short guy with bleached streaks greeted you with a lively energy that almost shocked you to the core.

you can't help but think how cute he looks, and walked closer cautiously to the counter.

“hello! welcome to crows' cabin! what can i getcha, cutie?” he gave you a big grin, leaning on the counter with his arm. you blinked in surprise, taken aback by his ecstatic greeting and chuckling lightly.

“hey, uh...is sugawara not here?” you probably sounded rude, but if there's a new guy on his stead, you could only guess that he's going to get your coffee wrong. at least, that's what you think.

he let out a humming sound, his face scrunching up as he thinks with his index finger and thumb under his chin. your heart skipped a beat. he couldn't get any cuter.

“i heard sugawara changed shifts because of his hectic schedule and all,” he explained, waving his arms about. “but you're lucky you're stuck with me! so, what do you want? coffee, tea, or me?” he gave you a wink after his question.

despite the nag of disappointment at the news of sugawara not being able to take your order anymore, it was quickly replaced by giddiness at the presence of this energetic boy in front of you.

before you could answer, however, the other staff with shaved hair that you quickly recognized as tanaka ryuunosuke, emerged from the kitchen and shook his head at his co-worker's antics.

“oi, stop flirting with the customer and take their order already!” he scolded, slapping the boy with the small towel he's holding on the head, earning a yelp.

“ukai-san won't be happy to know that you're trying to pick up chicks while on the job, you know.” tanaka's quip made your cheeks heat up. although, it seemed like the smaller guy is flirting with you, it was probably how he greets all the customers that comes in the café.

yet, the thought of him asking you out isn't too bad at all.

he's pretty attractive, you'll admit that. he's got mesmerizing, big, brown eyes that looks like it can pierce through your soul the longer you looked at them, and not to mention his fiery personality that greeted you the moment you entered.

“i can't help it, ryuu. they just looked so cute! who am i to deny our pretty customer our special service?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively. god, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“leave the poor customer alone, idiot. look at them, they're too red already!” it definitely didn't help that tanaka made a comment on how flustered you seem to get over his co-workers flirtatious advances.

“i-i'll get the usual, please...” you managed to croak out despite the embarrassment you felt, immediately sliding the exact amount to the counter.

the boy tilted his head at you in confusion, “the usual...?”

oh, right. he's new.

ignoring your flushed cheeks and rapidly beating heart, you murmured how you liked your coffee all the while his piercing gaze is intently staring at you, giving you his undivided attention while you explain your order passionately.

“uh, no– wait, that's probably too complicated. i'll just get that one instead–” he waved his hand dismissively at your panicked ramblings.

“nah, no need. i already memorized your order, angel face.” with one final wink at you, he went to the back to prepare your coffee.

“why don't you settle in and get comfortable while i prepare your drink?” he called over his shoulder.

tanaka could only watch the commotion with fond, proud gaze as he went back to his own station.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

during the afternoon, the crows' cabin don't have many patrons unlike in the mornings and evenings. usually, they were back in their classes or offices, and sometimes will only grab a quick bite before heading out.

this is the most peaceful moment, in your opinion, in the café. you hummed along to the song playing on the speakers as you typed away for your essay that is due tomorrow. yeah, it might not be healthy to cram when it's due tomorrow, but with how busy you are, can you really blame yourself?

what's important is you're doing it now instead of putting it away and procrastinating like you always do.

your fingers stopped typing as you gazed out the window, thinking of what to write next. amid the staring absently at nothingness, the boy from the counter approached you. he placed the cup from the tray beside you on a coaster.

“thanks, uh...” shoot, you didn't get his name. you don't remember tanaka mentioning it, too.

he seemed to have read your mind as he laughed, eyes crinkling at the sides as he threw his head back. you can't help but stare at him, he's such a ball of sunshine. any moment now and you're sure your heart will burst because of this guy.

“my name's nishinoya yuu, nice to meet you, uhm...” he stretched his hand out, which made you chuckle. you accepted it, shaking his hand as you introduced yourself.

nishinoya rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks flushing, “that's a pretty name.” he murmured, eyes casting off to the side as the thought of how warm and soft your hands are overtaking his mind.

before he could get carried away, he cleared his throat and looked at you expectantly.

“anyway, i'm excited about what you think of the coffee i made!” he bounced on his heels from where he stood, excitement jittering his bones.

rolling your eyes playfully, you cracked a smile at his excited expression and brought the cup to your lips to take a sip.

time seemed to have stopped as nishinoya watched you take another sip of coffee. you, on the other hand, couldn't believe that he made it just how you like it despite the first time making it for you. the slight smirk didn't escape your notice as you let out an appreciative hum upon the taste.

“so?” he leaned a little close to you, anticipation written all over his cute face.

“i gotta hand it to you, nishinoya. you did well, maybe even better than sugawara’s,” his chest seemed to puff up at your praise which you found endearing. so he likes to be complimented.

“of course! who else can make your coffee if not also the best barista in crows' cabin?” he boasted, thumbs pointing at himself. you can't help the laughter that bubbled out of you. he's such a refreshing presence in such a familiar place. and you're here for it.

he felt his heart clench as he smiled at your laughing figure, one thought only occupying his mind: he wanted to see you smile and laugh more.

he glanced at the clock on the wall, noticing that it'd be a few hours left before his shift ends and until then he still has a lot to do. even if it makes him sad, he has to go back to work and part from you. although, he hopes not permanently.

“anyways, enjoy your coffee! don't work too hard! and uh, call me yuu.” he gave you one last smile before he went back behind the counter.

yuu.

his name kept repeating over and over inside your head, a smile on your face as you looked down at your cup of coffee.

you're definitely going to keep coming back here.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

the next time you went back to the café, nishinoya perked up like an overexcited dog. his face immediately lit up at the sight of you. the relief that washed over you was something that you kept thinking about as you made your way to the counter, a grin splitting your face.

why were you so glad to find out that he's here?

“hey, it's you again. how are you doing today?” he greeted, already buzzing to life at the mere sight of you.

“i'm great, actually. and you?”

“it's been a long day, but it's all better now that you're here, cutie.” he chuckled at the way you became flustered in seconds after he called you a pet name.

“you're not too bad yourself, yuu. i'll take–”

“–the usual. i already memorized it, remember?” he replied, seeing the puzzled look on your face.

“right. yeah, sorry.” you facepalmed yourself softly, shaking your head at your forgetfulness. “it's just...i've been working too hard so i probably forgot,”

“i have just the thing, now go get cozy and i'll bring your drink!”

you took that as your cue to find your seat. today was pretty hectic for you, especially since you have to catch up to the nearing deadlines. taking a seat, you immediately opened up your laptop and began to work.

not half an hour later, a cup was placed in front of you, along with nishinoya sitting at the opposite chair which made you quirk an inquisitive eyebrow at the boy.

“what are you doing?”

“it's okay, i have my break at this time.” he then placed a bag beside your laptop, “on the house, a little birdie told me that it's your favorite,” he sheepishly rubbed at his nape, avoiding your gaze.

opening the bag, you find out that it's one of your favorite pastries inside. you can't help the soft gasp leaving your mouth at the kind gesture.

“oh, thank you so much! i've been craving these lately.” you gave him a grateful smile, biting down on your favorite treat. it still tasted just as good, but what really warmed your heart was the thought of nishinoya purposely asking sugawara for your favorite pastry and you can't help but add it to one of the things you like about him.

wait...like?

you couldn't help but choke at your own thoughts to which nishinoya shot you a concerned look. once you calmed down, you noticed that he kept glancing back at the wall clock then back at you then down at his fiddling hands.

“what's wrong?” you asked through a mouthful of food. yuu chuckled at the sight and shook his head.

“can i borrow a pen?” confused, you gave him one anyway. he grabbed the bag that your food was placed in, scribbling on it.

“thanks, i gotta go back now. break's over. bye!” he jogged back to his station and you were left weirded out by his actions. not only when you were preparing to leave the café did you notice the small note at the other side of the paper bag.

nishinoya yuu

xxx-xxx-xxx :)

you exited the café with your stomach and heart feeling full.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“do you think they liked the treat? will they even text back?” nishinoya paced back and forth in their small staff room.

“what if they didn't read the note?!” he gasped, stopping in his tracks as he bites his nails in anxiety.

sugawara laughed at his junior's predicament, “relax! of course they'd love the treat, i did tell you it was their favorite. as for the number, you should probably be a little more patient with that, noya.” he advised, placing an assuring hand on noya's shoulder.

as if possessed by a spirit, nishinoya perked up and his agitated self was replaced with determination.

“you're right. i shouldn't worry about it too much. they'll come around!” as soon as he said that, his phone's ringtone resonated in the small space.

on his screen was an unknown number and he immediately knew it's you.

without wasting another moment, nishinoya picked up the phone and answered the call.

“h-hello, y/n?” he internally cursed at himself for stuttering.

“–john? is that you? how's your mother–”

dumbstruck, nishinoya abruptly ended the call and placed his phone on the table.

“what happened? what did they say?” sugawara inquired, eager to know what happened between the two.

“it's not them.” nishinoya deflated like a balloon, covering his face with his palms.

was he reading this right? what if you don't see him that way? what if he was just forcing himself on you and in reality you don't really reciprocate the emotions he felt whenever you enter the café?

with a little more positivity from his seniors and tanaka telling him that he shouldn't lose hope, nishinoya decided to go home feeling less energetic than usual.

it was not around midnight that he received a call from an unknown number. he hated that he felt excited, that maybe, just maybe at the other end it was you.

picking it up slowly, he breathed in and out, counting to five before he answered the call.

“hello, yuu? it's y/n. sorry i called at a time like this,”

his eyes lit up at the sound of your familiar voice. even through the phone it sounded as beautiful as ever.

he almost stumbled over the scattered clothes and mess that littered his bedroom floor when it is indeed you that called him, landing on his bed.

“y/n? it's really you! uh, don't worry about it. i'm not sleeping yet...totally not because i was waiting on you or anything!”

your laughter brought butterflies fluttering in his stomach, oh how he'd love to hear that sweet sound everyday. it got him smiling too as he listened to it.

“i'm sorry for making you wait. i was just busy with my studies and all...but, i've decided.”

“decided...on what?”

there was a pregnant pause on the other end, he thought that you might ended the call or something. but then you spoke up again.

“i wanna go on a date with you.”

he must be in heaven because there is no way in hell or earth that you'd want to go on a date with him. you, who looks so pretty, beautiful, elegant and charming that he's having a hard time if you're actually real. you, who never fails to make his days a little better at work whenever you waltzed in and decided to grace him with your presence. you, with your complicated mixture of coffee that he memorized in favor of impressing you and in hopes that you come back again to the café.

he couldn't believe it.

“y-yeah? that's great! so, when are you free?”

“i was thinking maybe saturday? if that's alright with you?”

“that's fine with me! i actually have a day off on saturday. same time? at the cafe?”

he can't help the grin that's practically splitting his face in half but he's just so happy. he immediately caught feelings for you the moment you walked inside crows' cabin and he can't get you out of his mind since.

the same thing can be said about you, which the only reason you're actually studying in the café and keep coming back there was for a whole another reason other than coffee. heck, you even find yourself thinking of him whenever you drink the beverage.

with a lovestruck look on your face, you nodded even though he couldn't see it.

“yeah, that would be great.”

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

when saturday came, to say that you were nervous and jittery would be an understatement. you can't stop looking at yourself in the mirror or literally any surface that you have a reflection on to make sure that you looked nice and presentable on your date with noya.

and due to that fact, you didn't notice him walking up to you, all smiles and looking as cute and handsome as ever.

“ready to go?” he asked, offering his elbow to you which you gladly accepted.

“where are we going?”

“it's a surprise,” he teased, flashing you a mischievous smile.

you went along with it. the two of you walked, stopped for some food and talked about what you both liked, disliked, and how he got the job at crows' cabin.

“–so i told ukai-san that i really need the money! i was actually just saving up for the new game i saw down the street but i made it sound like it's a life or death situation if he wouldn't hire me. in the end, i loved working there. i mean,” he gestured to the two of you, “because of it, i finally went on a date with a wonderful person!”

chuckling at him, you playfully pushed his shoulder.

“shut up,” you grumbled.

you can't help but admire him. the way he animatedly tell his stories with his own sound effects and grand gestures that never fails to make you laugh and rope you in with the story. he's fun to hang out with, knows a lot of stuff about the neighborhood and won't run out of tales.

“ah! we're here!” he paused walking to stop in front of your designated place.

he brought you to the movies.

“oh, wow...i didn't expect that,” you laughed sheepishly, trying not to offend him.

“i figured we'd watch a movie. ryuu said that there's this new horror movie that's a blockbuster nowadays,” quickly catching on to his plan, you smirked to yourself slightly.

“is that so? well, i'm pretty sure you'll protect me from the scary things in there, right, yuu?”

he seemed to puff up at that, “of course i will! what kind of man would i be if i can't protect you?”

that earned another laughter from you, shaking your head as you tugged his arm towards the direction of the entrance.

he insisted that he'd pay for the tickets and the food which surprised you a bit, but you couldn't really complain since he was being nice all day to you. you decided to just pay him back later.

as soon as the both of you are inside and the movie is playing halfway, you noticed how he's the one who is more scared of it than you. he's trying to play it off by coughing when he'd accidentally yell in surprise or laugh it off when he'd jolt up from a jumpscare.

how cute.

without saying a word, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. the feeling of your soft and warm hands brought him back to reality, looking down at your intertwined hands. his cheeks flared up and he thanked himself for choosing a horror movie or else this moment wouldn't happen.

“ah, i'm glad that movie was over!” he cried out in relief. all throughout the movie, he kept squeezing your hand hard like a woman giving birth or hiding on your shoulder when a jumpscare comes on. you gotta admit that you enjoyed his reactions more than the movie itself.

you were both now walking home – he insisted – and your hands are still holding each other, clearly not wanting to let go. by the time you walked out of the theatre, it's already nighttime.

the skies are clear and there are stars peppering the night sky. it's quiet out with an occassional passing vehicles, or a hoot of an owl but it's a comforting silence.

“this is me,” you mumbled, stopping on your tracks once you saw the familiar street your residence was in.

noya can't help but glance at the street behind you with a sad look and down at your still conjoined hands. he knows he should, but he wanted to spend the night with you longer.

“you sure you can make it home okay?” he gave you a pleading look, hoping that you'd let him at least walk you in front of your house.

“yeah, i'm sure.” with that, he let go of your hands hesitantly, linking your pinkies as he gave you a small, content but genuine smile.

“i really had fun today, yuu.” you avoided his gaze when you saw his smile widen in satisfaction. he laughed heartily at that.

“me too, even if i hid throughout the movie.” he rubbed the back of his head, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. he kept rambling about how he probably turned you off because of that and why he shouldn't have taken you to the movies but somewhere exciting instead.

goddamnit, you can't take it anymore.

leaning in, you closed the distance between the two of you and slotted your lips in his, closing your eyes. you felt his breath hitch at your actions, his hands coming up to hold your jaw.

just like everything about him, the kiss was breathtaking.

it felt like hours when you pulled away, his eyes was still closed as he savored the blissful moment you shared.

“thank you,” you whispered, as if any louder can ruin the magic.

you pushed his shoulders away gently, giggling as you walked home. nishinoya was left there, awestruck with a dumb smile on his face as he stared at your retreating figure like he just woke up from a beautiful dream.

“huh...? hey, wait! come back here!”

[a-ghostlight-for-roman]

how to never stop being sad

Summary: Following his brother's acceptance, Roman's life felt like it was falling apart. His family was turning against him, that awful snake was being allowed in their home, and worst of all, he still couldn't seem to do anything right, no matter how hard he tried.

How does he choose to deal with it?

Not in a good way, that's for sure.

Warnings: Gore/Death/Violence (none actually occur but it is described), food mention, cursing

AO3 link

Chapter 1

Repeat to yourself that they’re not really gone

Time has proven

That fooling yourself into believing a lie

Is the most effective way

To deal with things you have no control over

Roman was fine. Completely 100% percent, absolutely fine, and he would tolerate no thinking to the contrary. Things were abnormal, sure, but he was coping. Maybe he felt a bit (a lot) guilty for letting things in the Mindscape get so bad, but it’s okay! He’s managing! Maybe he’s surrounded by people that barely tolerate him now, but he’ll fix it!

...eventually.

Right now, though, he’s in his room. Alone, as is usual these days. Usually, he’d ask Patton or Virgil to hang out with him, but after the last video, things were… Tense, to say the least. 

Patton wasn’t mad at him, of course; he wasn’t ever truly mad at any of them. However, Roman would have to be stupid not to notice the disappointed looks Patton gave him when he thought he wasn’t looking or the way that after Roman left the room, he always made a point to talk to Janus afterwards, as if he needed special attention just for enduring Roman’s presence.

Things were a little better with Virgil, but he was frustrated with Roman for tolerating Janus’ presence at all. Despite his obvious vitriol towards him, he still outright refused to talk about what exactly Janus had ever done to him. So Roman was forced to choose between Patton, his father figure who’d never meant to do him wrong (who had acted like Roman was unreasonable for sticking to the very moral rule set that Patton had imposed on him since they were children), or Virgil, who Roman had been wrong in not listening to before, & who was obviously extremely hurt and betrayed by both Janus, and now his own family.

He still hadn’t quite been able to choose, straddling the line between adhering to Patton’s kindness policy towards Janus and respecting Virgil’s feelings. It didn’t really work-- rather, it just seemed to leave them both dissatisfied. Roman could hardly stand it.

...but it’s fine. Really. It’ll blow over eventually. He isn’t quite sure how, exactly, but things always turn out alright in the end, right? There’s always a happy ending.

Except when there isn’t, but… bad endings only happen in Remus’ stories, & he doesn’t have power here in the Mindscape.

...except he sorta does, now. After his video, he’d (albeit reluctantly) been accepted. His ideas were considered, even valued, now. Sometimes, he was even chosen over Roman. Not only by Thomas, but also by the other sides, at times; Logan may think he’s slick, but Roman’s seen him specifically request his brother’s assistance in the Imagination, in the living room, in the archives, in his room- It made Roman sick to think about, and whenever he walked through the house, he could see evidence of his brother’s influence littered throughout. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand the appeal. When had society fallen so far as to value a duke more than a prince?

---

Roman hadn’t thought he’d been in his room for long; he’d only meant to duck in to get a breather after having to endure Remus’ maniacal ramblings for nearly half an hour, but it seemed he’d been brooding long enough to attract Logan’s concern. He heard a knock at his door and broke out of his haze, looking towards it.

“I apologize for bothering you Roman, but I was wanting to inquire whether you were alright. It’s been an hour,” Logan said. Had Roman really been away for that long? No wonder Logan was checking on him.

“Yeah, Specs- Sorry. I’ll be out in a minute, just finishing a project,” he lied. Logan was so cold, calm, rational- Surely he would look down on Roman’s groveling simply because he couldn't deal with his brother for more than a few minutes. As much as Roman was full of himself and proud of his work, he thought if Logan talked down to him, he’d break down and cry.

“We’re currently 'hanging out' in the common room. You’re welcome to join whenever you finish. I look forward to hearing about what you’ve been working on.” Roman could hear his footsteps slowly grow farther from the door.

Shit. Now Logan thought he’d been working on something, so now he had to do something-- he couldn't just show up empty-handed. They’d see through his lies in an instant. He’d be just as bad as Janus, imagine what Virgil would think--

He took a steadying breath. Okay, yeah, he’d lied, but that wasn’t so awful, he just had to make it right. He just had to make something, and that shouldn’t be so hard, right? That’s his job! He’ll just think of something real quick, and it’ll be done in a jiffy, and then it won’t be a lie anymore, and on top of that, he’ll have something to talk about! Talking parts were hard to come by sometimes when you had to find something that would include the two people you hate most, your former-enemy-turned-best-friend, your dad and your colleague (as he insisted to be called), but everyone was always eager to hear his new ideas, so this would be perfect.

---

It was nothing special, but it would do. He hadn’t had the time or energy to think of a concept for a whole scripted video, so instead, he’d written the next Shoutout Sunday. Simple, but it had to be done, and it was already Friday, anyways. He closed his notebook, and stood up, keeping it under his arm. He never knew when inspiration would strike, so he tried to carry it with him whenever possible. He opened his door and stepped out from his room, making his way down the hallway past the multicolored doors of the other sides, pointedly avoiding looking at Janus’ signature black and yellow-colored door. Out of sight, out of mind.

As he walked into the commons, the conversations faltered for a moment, but everyone quickly returned to what they were doing. Remus was noticeably absent; Patton and Virgil were curled up on the couch, sharing a blanket between them and speaking in excited whispers; and Logan and Janus were speaking across the counter separating the living room and the kitchen while Logan made dinner on the stove and Janus leaned with his hands crossed under his chin. 

Roman lingered by the stairs for a moment, caught off guard by the lack of greeting, but continued to the side of the couch not occupied by Patton and Virgil. He’d hoped to share his script with Logan, but he was busy at the moment, and he so rarely was this casual with the others; Roman figured it better to let him be for the time being. He pulled his notebook from under his arm and summoned a pencil from his desk. If he couldn’t share his idea, he might as well get started on the next.

He spent around five minutes doodling a new creature to introduce into the Imagination when Logan finally seemed to notice he was there.

“Ah, Roman! Apologies, I hadn’t noticed you were here. What was the idea you were working on?” he asked. He turned off the stove and fully turned to Roman, looking past Janus. Roman was almost ashamed to say he felt a certain degree of satisfaction that Logan had put aside his conversation with Janus in favor of speaking with him. Keyword being "almost."

“Well, it is a most illustrious, melodic creation--” Roman sunk down from the living room and rose into the kitchen, laid his now open notebook on the counter, and gestured towards it with a bow-- “Behold, the newest Shoutout Sunday!” He smiled and rose from his position, bouncing on his feet a bit as Logan rested his chin on his hand, looking thoughtful, and read it. Logan gave a slight, satisfied smile.

“So you’ve worked ahead of schedule, then. Wonderful! Good work, Roman."

“I know,” Roman replied, beaming, “I shall have a new idea by the morn-- perhaps I can even start the next video script!”

“So long as you do not burn yourself out, Roman. Otherwise, I look forward to your next contribution.” Logan closed Roman’s notebook, handed it back to him, and then opened a cabinet, gathering bowls for… Whatever healthy monstrosity was in the pot on the stove. Roman could only guess what it was. Some sort of soup, maybe? “Will you be joining us for dinner tonight, Roman?”

“I’m afraid there are simply too many ideas and too little time, I must return to my work!” Roman replied. Janus narrowed his eyes at him from across the counter.

“I wouldn’t be witnessing any self-neglect right now, would I, Roman?” his voice dripped, cool and patronizing. It carried a lilt of care, but it was clearly faked-- Patton would have scolded him if he’d been listening. Roman rolled his eyes.

“No, I am simply dedicated to my craft! Creations don’t come from thin air, do they?” he replied. Logan tilted his head, brows furrowed.

“...They do,” he said. He raised his palm, and atop it, a paper appeared. “As you can clearly see, I’ve just summoned this piece of paper- Now, it’s not on par with many of your creations, of course, but I’m sure you understand my point. Just last week, you summoned me a new Rubik’s Cube. Don’t you remember?”

Virgil snorted from across the room, and Roman sighed. “Yes, Specs, I- I remember. I meant that metaphorically.”

“That was not a metaphor. According to Oxford Languages Dictionary, a metaphor is 'a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable.' Would you like an example?”

“Not now, Logan. I’ll be taking my leave-”

“Aw,” Patton interrupted, “why not stay? You’ve spent so much time up in your room- Now, I know sometimes we need our alone time, but spending some time with your famILY won’t kill ya!”

“Did someone say kill?” came Remus’ shrill, excited voice from by the lamp where he’d just appeared.

“Not that kind of kill!” Patton rushed, “there will be absolutely no killing on my watch, mister!” Remus put his hands on his hips and blew a raspberry at that, exaggeratedly pouting at him.

“You’re no fun,” he replied. “Nothing wrong with a little casual murder to pass the time! Everyone dies sometime, might as well make it exciting.” Patton grimaced as Virgil’s eyes went wide and he groaned.

“...Everyone dies sometime. We are going to die. Thomas is going to die. Death is inevitable,” Virgil mumbled shakily, though it was still quite loud once the tempest tongue kicked in. He put his hands in his hair, but before he could pull at it, Patton led his hands away.

“Now Remus, that may be true, but there’s no need to dwell on it, especially when you know it will upset Virgil,” Logan said with a strict tone.

“Oh oh, I wonder who’ll go first when Thomas dies? Think it’ll be all at once, or one by one? I vote Roman-”

“Won’t you just shut up?” Roman spoke up, voice raised. “You’re harming Virgil and you know it. Keep your ideas in your side of the Mindscape; We don’t want them here.” His fists balled up as he glared at his brother. Oh, what he’d give to be able to walk up to him, to punch him square in the jaw. He’d love to unsheathe his sword and bury it right in his fucking stomach, to watch the emotions flicker through his eyes as they slowly went glassy and he collapsed to his knees, the blade continuing up through his skin like it was paper, the blood leaking through his clothing and pooling around him on the floor-

Roman blinked hard, brows furrowed. No one had responded to him yet, because it had only been a moment. What kind of thought was that? Certainly not one becoming of a prince. Was Remus messing with him somehow? Roman knew he could project thoughts into Thomas and the others’ heads, but Roman had never experienced it himself-- Why would Remus give him an intrusive thought right now, especially one so gruesome as to include his own gory death by Roman’s hands? He didn’t look like he had done anything, but he had to have, right? Roman didn’t come up with ideas like that. He was light creativity, he was good creativity!

Patton must’ve noticed his distress, as he quickly looked between the two. “Oooookay,” he began, “Remus is being a little inconsiderate of Virgil. And that isn’t okay! But that doesn’t mean we don’t want him at all. Everyone messes up from time to time!”

“But he’s doing it on purpose!” Roman exclaimed. He gestured his arms towards Remus and waved them incredulously. “I mean, look at him! He doesn’t even care!” 

Remus didn’t respond, continuing to stand in his spot, smiling and unblinking. Janus cleared his throat, gathering their attention. 

“I’m sure Remus just loves being talked about as if he isn’t here. Regardless, it’s hardly fair to criticize him for one incident that’s a result of his function as intrusive thoughts, especially considering that you’ve shown a pattern of worse behavior over the past… What, three years?” He looked towards Logan for confirmation.

“Yes, approximately that long, although that’s a misleading usage of the information. He’s improved over time,” Logan responded.

“Only if you consider his treatment of Virgil exclusively. Regardless, you've proved my point,” Janus said, sounding satisfied. “If it took Roman three years to warm up to Virgil, why does Remus only get a few months? Not to mention that he’s just being told that he’s unwanted and to leave, you've never experienced despite your actions, and which is preposterous notwithstanding.”

Virgil finally ripped his hands from Patton and covered his ears, shutting his eyes tightly.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” he said frantically. Patton bit his lip and looked around the room.

“Listen, usually I’d encourage a healthy family discussion, but now’s really not the time to be doing this-- Roman, please go to your room. Remus, I’m not mad at you, but I’d really appreciate it if you would go ahead and leave for the night, too.”

Roman stared at Patton for a moment, mouth agape and brows furrowed. “My room- Patton, I’m not five! This isn’t even my fault-”

“Don’t argue, Roman,” Logan cut him off, “Do as Patton said. We’ll discuss this more in-depth later.”

Roman gave a loud scoff as he trudged across the room and began making his way up the stairs. He gave one last glare to Remus, who’d finally begun to move, and then continued to his room, where he fell backwards onto his bed. He closed the door with a flick of his hand, and stared at the ceiling, letting out a resigned sigh as he reminisced. Why was everything so backwards nowadays, he wondered? When had the dastardly acts of his brother become the new norm, overshadowing his own heroism and creativity?

It wasn’t as if Roman could even do anything about it, either; Patton’s decisions on what was right and wrong was like the word of law in the Mindscape. Sure, Roman could challenge his thinking, but he hardly wanted a repeat of his… Frog incident. He couldn’t bear it if he distressed him that much again. All Roman could hope for was that one day, sooner rather than later, someone would either talk some sense into him, or he’d come to the realization himself that Remus was merely a parasite to their famILY.

For now, at least, Roman could dream. 

‘Patton loves me just as much as the others. He’s a dad! Dads love all their children equally.‘

‘Even if it seems like it sometimes, no one really hates me- Well, besides Remus.’

‘...And even if they do, I can fix it.’

Even if it meant lying to himself.

[babineni]

Harmony (part 1 of 2)

aka the polyamory thing

link to part 2

A spontaneous dance aboard the Defiant prompts Edér and Gaura to reflect on how their relationship changed over the years and on what they really feel for one another.

The ocean's breeze felt cold against Gaura's skin. The Defiant was anchored by a long abandoned island to make some repairs after a storm, and on the last night of the brief stop the crew decided to throw a spontaneous celebration. The Watcher spent the better half of the evening dancing and singing, and once she stopped to catch her breath, the contrast between the heat of her body - and, in a way, her soul - and the cool night air sent shivers down her spine. She took a step as she looked for a spot where she could rest, and a faint, dull sense of pain spread over her feet. Her gaze eventually fell to the shrouds of the ship. Edér stood there, with his back against the ropes, smoking, eyeing the happenings around him. He gave the Watcher a warm half-smile when their eyes met, and Gaura couldn't help but beam back at him as a response.

'Lend me a hand, please,' the Watcher said once she made her way to him. Edér put an arm around her waist without hesitation, and she held onto his shoulder as she hummed the tune of Ancient Memory to herself.

'Getting tired?' Edér teased.

'I still have a few dances left in me,' Gaura placed her weight on her feet again, and smiled when she felt none of the sensations left on them by her exertions. The veteran let his hand drop off her and moved to give the Watcher some space beside him. She had a different idea, however. 'Care to have one of those dances?'

Edér blinked at her in surprise. A moment went by as they stood silently looking at each other. Then another. Then the farmer burst out laughing.

'That was a good one,' he said, wiping a tear away.

'Oh, come on, you never dance with me,' Gaura complained, and pinched him on the shoulder. 'Please?'

'Not much of a dancer, is all,' Edér shrugged.

'That's fine, I can lead.'

'Yeah... Figured you'd say that,' he gave an approving nod, but he otherwise didn't move. When the Watcher offered her hand with a pointed and questioning look, he sighed. 'Can I finish this?' He gestured at his pipe.

'Sure,' Gaura took the space the farmer offered her. Her upper arm brushed against his, the flames bursting through her skin fluttered where they touched. Edér didn't seem to notice or if he did, he wasn't bothered by it.

A moment later, the music changed to a messy but harmonious tune that strangely enough sounded both like The Sea and Her Love and Faithful Sailor. Gaura was almost certain it was just her fatigue playing with her hearing. And yet she liked what she heard.

Edér, however, frowned and exhaled a large puff of smoke. 'Was hoping for something... different,' he turned to the Watcher. 'You sure you don't wanna dance to this with Aloth? Sounds like something... well, fitting for y'all,' he shrugged.

The mention of the name put a smile on Gaura's face. It did sound like something they both would like, although not to the same degree. And yet listening to the melody by Edér's side felt right too.

'Don't worry, he gets the last dance. In private,' she winked at him with a faint but impish smile.

The veteran nodded to himself and turned away. His face, bathed in the light of the Watcher's flaming hair, seemed faintly flushed. 'That's uh...' he cleared his throat, 'that's good to know.'

'You're still not used to the thought of us being together, are you?' Gaura elbowed him in the side gently. Edér didn't look like he felt it.

'It's not that... It's just... Well, it kinda is,' he tried and failed to explain. 'I dunno. Life's been pretty stagnant for me back in Gilded Vale. And it was more likely there for you to get lynched by a friend than being kissed by one... Guess, deep down, there's a part of me that still moves at the pace I did back then, a part that thought... we would always stay the same as we were five years ago,' he chuckled ruefully and shook his head. When the Watcher merely continued listening intently, he hastily added. 'Not that it's any of my business what you do, and as long as you're happy, so am I.'

'I am happy. Well... the closest to being happy I can be considering... everything,' Gaura absent-mindedly scratched her chest right above her heart, right above her chimes, her gaze set on the empty air in front of her. 'But I do love Aloth,' she said with a smile reappearing on her face,' and I do...'

The words that were supposed to follow got stuck in the Watcher's throat. She cautiously glanced back at Edér, who tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

'Nothing. It's not important,' Gaura said eventually.

'Alright then,' Edér emptied his pipe and pocketed it. Then he took a step away from the Watcher, and offered her his hand. 'If I crush your foot, that's on you.'

'I can manage a crushed foot,' she laughed as she took his hand, and moved past him to lead him to the rest of the crew. However, the veteran pulled her back.

'Don't wanna embarrass you in front of a crowd.' Edér placed his free hand on her shoulder blade. Gaura placed hers on his shoulder and let her arm rest against his. She sensed some tension in him as she took the first step.

'And I almost thought you wanted a private dance of your own,' the Watcher teased.

Edér scoffed. 'Good one,' he said but his voice didn't rang of amusement. He watched Gaura with tenderness as they danced and she couldn't help but notice that his eyes were the same shade of green as the hedge maze near Caed Nua. Her lips curled to a faint, wistful smile at the realization and she didn't even notice that she moved closer to the farmer. Nor did she notice that he unconsciously moved his hand lower down her back. Just as she was about lose herself in his gaze, Edér looked away. But he seemed to have relaxed a bit regardless.

'Sorry about that,' he said, then sighed. Gaura couldn't tell if he did so out of exhaustion or relief.

'It's fine, I didn't mind.'

Edér looked back at her again. 'I didn't mind either.' And yet a moment later he shook his head and let out a quiet groan that still sounded like years of frustration was condensed into it.

'You know me,' he said. 'Never been good with feelings, and I like to keep things simple. Didn't want more than what we've had going on all these years and... I guess I just didn't really bother questioning what I feel for you, until you started asking about it. Didn't see the point. But now I...' Edér stopped and his gaze drifted to somewhere over the Watcher’s shoulder. His face reflected the same concentration that she only ever saw in combat, right before the farmer charged at their enemies. Then the moment passed and when their eyes met again, she saw nothing in them but utmost sincerity. 'Now I don't know what you mean to me, only that you mean a lot. Maybe everything, even.'

Gaura stared at the veteran, with her eyes wide and her heart racing. She no longer heard anything aside from Edér's words echoing in her mind, and she didn't move, she didn't let go, she didn't think...

'I love you,' she blurted out and the hand she had resting on the farmer's shoulder now darted to her mouth. When he didn't reply aside from giving her the same puzzled look that she had on her face as well, she continued cautiously. 'I love you the same way I love Aloth.'

Edér spent a moment processing her words, then joyful laughter bubbled up from him. The Watcher got a terrible feeling, the feeling that this all might have been a joke, but a moment later Edér spoke.

'Guess, there was a point to my rambling, after all.'

Gaura laughed with him at that. A sense of relief washed over her so overwhelmingly, she could barely stand. She clumsily took a step forward and rested her head against his broad shoulder, careful not to singe the farmer.

'What happens now?' Edér asked after holding the Watcher for what felt like hours. She pulled away to face him hesitantly.

'I don't know. This isn't just up to me,' she reached up to his face and ran her knuckles along his jaw, enjoying the softness of his beard. He in turn sunk a little into her touch, filling her with reassurance. 'All I know is that I can't choose between you and Aloth. And… I think I wouldn’t want to even if I could. Can you...accept that?'

'Hmm,' Edér pondered the question, but there was unmistakable spark of mischief in his eyes. A moment later, he chuckled. 'I could accept you seeing dead people and chatting with gods regularly... would be pretty unfair if I drew the line here, don't you think?'

'That's different but... I'll take it. Now I'll just have to ask Aloth the same question.'

'Don't think his answer will be all that different, but...' Edér leaned in and left a sloppy kiss on Gaura's cheek, his beard tickling the corners of her lips. 'For luck.'

The Watcher took a moment wrestling with the urge to kiss him properly, then another convincing herself to leave the veteran's side. She flashed one last smile at him before she made her way across the deck. Even as she was closing the door leading belowdeck, she felt Edér's gaze on her.

Then the door closed turning the revelry aboard distant, faded, like a hazy dream.

[celestialtitania]

Small Joys

@galaxiuu I was your secret santa for @mlsecretsanta! I hope you enjoy this fluff piece for MariChat. I don’t really read much fluff and have never written any before so I hope you like it. Happy Holidays! 

Chat Noir looked at the girl sitting alone on her balcony. He had been leaping across rooftops to escape the atmosphere in his house. Finding his Lady would have helped, but Ladybug was nowhere to be found and it was getting a little lonely.

The pigtailed girl swiveled her head, ending up staring right at him. Chat jumped up guiltily, feeling bad he’d been caught. He moved to leave but she shook her head. Then she motioned for him to come towards her. 

Never one to refuse an invitation, Chat catapulted towards her, landing on the railing of her balcony. 

“Hello, citizen of Paris,” he told her, a cocky grin on his face. She rolled her eyes. 

“Why hello, hero of Paris. We have never met before.”

Chat laughed, his shoulders losing the tension he had kept stored within him. “Yes, hello Marinette.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked warmly leaning on the wall of her balcony, making room for him to come down from the railing. He jumped down to stand beside her. 

“Oh...I’ve just been out and about. You can’t keep cats cooped up for very long you know.”

“No Ladybug?”

“Milady is quite busy. She prefers to be in costume for an akuma. Though we do patrol constantly, no need to worry!”

She giggled at his words, causing her face to light up. Chat envied her for a moment, it must be nice to feel free in one’s home. He shook his head trying to dispel those thoughts. That was why he was in costume during the holidays after all. “Are you still in love with her?”

“What?” Chat blinked, unable to understand the question. What had they been talking about?

“You mentioned Ladybug and then your voice got really quiet. And the look on your face…” Marinette trailed off, looking worried. Her eyes droopy and her lips curled downwards. She seemed to be closing in on herself and that was the last thing Chat Noir had wanted to do.

“I’m sorry,” they both blurted out. “Why are you sorry?” Marinette asked incredulously. 

“I wasn’t talking about Ladybug. I mean I was, but I was thinking about some personal issues. As a civilian. I didn’t mean to worry you. And please don’t be sorry. I rejected you, you don't have to worry about my love life.”

Marinette stared at him for so long, Chat Noir began to squirm. It was getting a little uncomfortable. Just as he was mustering the courage to speak up, she burst into laughter. 

“Oh that. Don't worry Chat Noir. I'm so over you. It was just a hero crush I guess, after you saved me so many times.”

Chat Noir blinked. “So you don't like me anymore?”

“Never did!” Marinette chirped cheerfully. 

Chat stared at her this time. She seemed to realize what she'd said because Marinette flushed bright red to the tips of her ears. 

“I mean, of course, I like you. I just don't like you like you. I mean I don't like you in that way. I like you because we're friends. Uh not friends. Because we barely know each other. I mean me saying I liked you was just this build up in my head. And you can't like someone for a reason like that. I mean to say…”

Chat Noir began to laugh as she rambled, hands flailing in every direction. That was more like the Marinette he had come to know.

She looked at him reproachfully, her blush getting darker if that were even possible. 

“I'm just joking Princess. And we are friends. As if I'd ever turn down being your friend.”

Marinette beamed at him, making his insides feel warm and fuzzy. She really was amazing. He was so lucky to have her as a friend. Both in and out of costume. 

For some reason, Adrien could hear Plagg laughing at him inside the suit but he ignored it. It was probably just his imagination. 

“Are you cold?” Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Oh sorry!” Marinette immediately said reaching out to steady him. 

“No, no,” Adrien shook his head trying to regain his bearings. “My own fault.” He glanced upwards to see Marinette was looking at him thoughtfully. 

“So are you?”

Adrien looked her blankly “Am I what?”

“Cold,” Marinette snickered. “Unless that suit has heating attached.”

Suit? Adrien thought before glancing at his body. Right he was Chat Noir right now. It was so easy to be himself with Marinette that he forgot which persona he needed to display.

When he didn't answer, Marinette continued. “I was just going to suggest, that if you are cold, maybe you'd like to come inside.”

Chat Noir stilled as he glanced into her home. Warmth and the scent of baked goods was wafting out, even in the frigid air. “I’ll even feed you. Though, they do say you shouldn’t feed strays.”

“I’m no stray. I’m a good house cat. Trained to fight the forces of evil. This much charm doesn’t come naturally after all,” Chat preened. He dusted himself as he prepared to accept Marinette’s offer.

Along with some cheese Danishes to go. Plagg would kill him otherwise. 

“I’d love to come inside Purricess,” Chat smirked. He held in a crow when despite her groan, he could see Marinette’s lips twitch upwards. 

“Well, in you get,” Marinette ushered him down the balcony, inside her room.  She sat him down on the chaise and threw a heavy quilt at him. It was covered with soft cloth and Chat Noir could see the multi-coloured threads in each cross-stitch. 

“Did you make this?” He blurted out. Marinette started in surprise, as she had been rummaging in one of her drawers, before nodding. Chat Noir took another look at the quilt. It was a beautiful quilt, with quite intricate flower designs. It was divided into multiple squares, each square containing a different flower. It must have taken her ages to complete.

He squinted. There were little red dots in the flowers. No, not dots. Ladybugs. Chat Noir was once again, completely blown away by just how talented Marinette was. 

“This is gorgeous.”

Marinette laughed. “Didn’t realize you would fall so hard for a quilt.”

Before Chat Noir could try to gain back his dignity, Marinette shook her head. “Tell you what? Anytime you want to come and cuddle in that quilt, it’s all yours.”

He paused to stare at her uncomprehendingly, she couldn’t have meant what he thought it meant. “Chaton?” Marinette questioned after a few moments of silence had passed by. Before Marinette could panic and take her words back, Chat Noir smirked.

“Is that an invitation Princess? You might just have to adopt me.”

“I just might,” Marinette told him firmly, stunning him into silence. “I’m going to go get some snacks. You stay put.” He nodded absently, still wide-eyed from her previous proclamation.

Marinette was probably the kindest person he knew. Who else would just practically adopt him? Sure, he was a superhero as far as she was concerned, but when his own father couldn’t be bothered, how could he expect a virtual stranger to? His face fell. Perhaps she was just trying to be friendly. He was the only one sad enough to be alone on Christmas Eve.

She had said that she had a crush on him, due to him saving her. Now that the hero-worship had worn off, Marinette must have felt obligated to help him out. It was probably best to just leave. He didn’t want to ruin her Christmas. He had just stood up, ready to climb out the trapdoor, when he heard someone clear their throat.

“I thought I told you to stay where you were,” Marinette stated crossly, her arms laden with croissants, cookies, macarons, quiches and other goodies. Behind her, her parents waved excitedly.

“I-I was just…” Chat Noir stammered awkwardly. Marinette sighed, as she set down the tray of food down on the table. Then she grabbed his arm, pulling him towards her. He glanced nervously at Tom, but the man just grinned at him.

“We can either watch Christmas movies downstairs with my parents or we can play video games up here. Up to you. But either way, you’re staying here tonight.”

“It’s Christmas. You have to spend it with us,” Sabine added firmly.

Tom let out a booming laugh. “I recommend not arguing with these two. There’s no winning.”

Chat Noir let out a sigh of defeat, though the wide smile on his face belied that action. “I’d be honored Dupain-Chengs.”

“So, which will it be?” Marinette questioned.

Chat Noir took a glance at Tom and Sabine. He thought about his own father never having the time nor desire to spend any time with him. He found making such a choice painfully easy.

“Great!” Tom gathered the food tray. “We’ll get more snacks prepared. And hot cocoa, with peppermint. You kids better hurry down!”

Chat Noir frowned, confused now. Why weren’t they just going downstairs with Marinette’s parents? 

Marinette chuckled. “Curiosity killed the Chat.”

“But satisfaction brought him back,” he replied, never missing a beat. That one made her laugh for real. 

“We have to get dressed,” she explained as she headed towards her closet. Chat Noir gestured towards his suit. “Can’t really change Princess.”

“Wear it on top,” was her simple solution. She spun around to give him a reassuring look. “I would never ask you to compromise your secret identity.” He smiled back at her. 

“What am I supposed to be wearing though?” He asked hesitantly.

“Christmas sweaters!” Marinette exclaimed brightly. “You can just pull them on, so it’ll work with the super suit.” Chat Noir cocked his head to the side. She was right, that would work. A little warm but that was fine. Then he got a look at the sweater in question. Marinette was holding up a sparkly red sweater, with reindeer and snowflakes.

“Ugly Christmas sweaters?” Chat Noir made a face.

“Don’t be so judge-y. It’s a tradition. I’m wearing one too,” in her other hand was a green sweater with red and gold bells, a giant snowman decorating the front. 

“I get sparkles?”

“Well...you already have the green eyes and a bell,” Marinette shrugged. Chat Noir held in a laugh as he pulled the sweater on. 

“Glad the suit is so convenient.”

“Christmas ready,” she agreed. They were really ugly sweaters. He hadn’t thought that someone as big on fashion as Marinette would even own something like this. Marinette must have noticed the look on his face, the only explanation she gave was that it was a Dupain-Cheng family tradition. And that there was no arguing against that. Then with a wry smile, she pulled her own sweater on. 

“Let’s go!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him downstairs, where her parents awaited. Chat Noir felt his heart skip a beat. With a quick scolding to remind himself he was in love with Ladybug, he let himself become part of the Dupain-Cheng family for the night. 

[jinxofthedesert]

Hi there! Annoying anon that loves rambling about the Valeska twins is here again 🤣 Let the discussion continue! 😂 Yeah, I totally get your point of writing such stories as a means of fulfilling wishes. I guess it makes sense from the writer's pov that they want to give these characters a different (better) treatment. Valid point, but still, they don't feel real to me.

(Below this is the rest of the messages, put together. Farther down, below the line, are my responses)

It's like I'm reading a story with a character that's called Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska and looks exactly like him, but it's not truly him (just like you said, at their cores they are bad guys). But it's perfectly understandable and all right that people want to give them a rest from their chaotic lives haha 😊 everybody’s got their cup of tea ☕

Damn, yes, these stories are so hard to find! I imagine that writing something of the sort and investing so much in such complex characters can be draining and daunting, so yeah I get the reason why there are not so many fics out there... and OCs are so difficult to write haha you are right. They take too much time and effort 🤣

Yeah, I guess Ecco was not the best example. It's very true what you say about Jeremiah's and Ecco's relationship. In the show it was portrayed as a professional one. So we don't really know if there's anything else beyond that, save for some level of concern. So I guess I should have gone with Bruce instead because, just like you said, Jeremiah went totally bonkers when he realized that Bruce was the only one who saw past his resemblance to Jerome.

Basically, what I was trying to say is that in these fics there's not really that same vibe of evil obsession and lunacy from the twin's side. Maybe just some sort of heightened jealousy when their partner is addressed by other characters, but not in a really "Valeska" way. In fact, it is also strange when Bruce is completely absent in these stories when the twins' obsession revolves around him.

Yeah, there is sooo much to explore, so that is why I am very curious to see how people construe their backgrounds, but usually it's just the repetition of the show with some added scenes and dialogues here and there 😅 I would love to see something a bit different, but well, I guess I am being very demanding 🤣 Don't worry about it and thanks so much for replying! 😘 I am now doing some research in different sites 🤣

It's a bit weird because even though I enjoyed the show, I have to say I merely watched it to see ma broski boys in action 🤣 so If I wasn't so lazy (and didn't have other unfinished projects) I would try to write something (my mind is already full of vague ideas OMGGG 😏🤔😂), but I don't really know much about other characters or subplots, so I would not be sure how to tackle it 🤔 Thanks again for the lovely discussion! 😊

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Hi anon! Don’t you worry about your rambles, they’re not at all annoying! I find it rather fun to discuss the twins. 

I’m sorry you’ve not been able to find the content you’re looking for; usually, I always run into comments on Tumblr or Pinterest about how you look for certain fics and when you can’t find them, then it’s time to try a hand at writing it yourself. I’ve done that and, even though I enjoy writing, it’s still pretty hard, especially to find a drive to do it when I really am not feeling it.  With the twins not feeling real, I understand, ‘course I now think I’m at the point where I might read anything if I’m gifted with more content lol (though there are some tags that, if I see them, I don’t touch if I can help it). 

I think, usually, with most writers, it’s easier to take a character like Jerome/Jeremiah and, instead of doing the tremendous work that comes with trying (emphasis trying) to change them, they do a few things and that’s enough for a road to recovery. Because, most of the time, they’re not writing to change the character, or even to make it realistic; sometimes they’re just writing, or they wanted to try a different aspect. There can be so many reasons and sometimes digging deep and getting a character 100% correct isn’t at the top of the list of what you want in that story. Personally, I’ve learned to broaden my sense of disbelief with characters and just enjoy what I manage to find, especially since the Gotham fic-oriented content is sooooo small 😢

After reading your last message, I actually went onto Ao3 and searched ‘character studies’ under the characters and yeah, there’s not much, I read a few and I honestly wasn’t sure what to think (not to call anyone out). It reminded me a lot of my years reading batjokes on fanfiction or, again, Ao3 where, if you search long enough, there’s a fic for almost all your needs. There have been some good gems in there that delve into character studies and helping these characters try and become better. Comparing that to Gotham’s arrangement of fics is sad, to say the least, but batjokes in all media have a lottttt of years to have such a collection of wonderful content. (Even if you’re only a Gotham fan, stretching out into the actual Batman fandom can be very rewarding, even if your next step is into the Nolan movies or even Batman in general cause you can replace the characters in your head if you really want too)  I think one big problem with Oc’s is that, in a way, they’re easy to make, but in the worst way. You can create a character to put in the place you want, a blank space and they’re just nothing. This comes up a lot in anime type works, where the main character is so blah for the purpose of the audience (reader in our other case) to put themselves in the place of the main character. This also happens in a lot of movies as well, instead of fleshing the character out and allowing them to move and breathe the way THEY would and not how the audience thinks they themselves would. Because of this, oc’s can be very flat. There are the exception, of course although I have no examples since I don’t remember the last Oc story I read . . .  *wracks brain* yeah no idea. Though I’m sure it’s somewhere in my saves.

Even if one doesn’t ship Jeremiah with Bruce, it’s very difficult to ignore/brush under the rug that there was definitely an obsession and that originally, during their weeks of spending time together, building the generator, there started a friendship. The first is very obvious, show-wise (and friendship kinda came with the territory) and the gay subtext can be there if you look at it that way. As much as an interesting character Ecco is, she’s both not important enough in the show (sorry Ecco lovers) or to Jeremiah or to anyone for that matter. While with Bruce and Jeremiah, with how their first meeting go’s and all the meetings that follow after (very willingly on Jeremiah’s part even though I’m sure before this NO ONE was allowed in the inner parts of his bunker for long periods. Probably not even Ecco) the relationship is much more pronounced than anything we’re given prior.  I like to think that even though Bruce was manipulating Jeremiah when they first met, he actually did see him as his own person. Even though he, like Jim and Harvey, have personally bore witness to Jerome’s tyranny. (And that only twists the knife harder when Jeremiah eventually loses his mind because both him and Jeremiah saw him as his own person and in a way Jeremiah doesn’t become like Jerome, he becomes worse)

One could argue that since we didn’t see a ‘true’ way the Valeska’s love that any type of them showing affection might never seem very Valeska. Unless one looks at their reactions and interactions with Bruce as something more than just ‘wanting to kill him’ or ‘obsession’. This would be another reason I’m don’t read much in the oc-area or out of the romantic’s lol mainly because the moment they take Bruce out of the picture, everything seems off. Jerome, while willing to divide his attention, only does it with specific people, who are: Jim, Bruce, Jeremiah, and, on occasion, Oswald (though he’s much less in comparison to the ‘big three’). Other then them, we don’t see him hyper-focus on anyone else in the show, and if he does, it’s for a second and to simply kill them after. If these three aren’t integral to his behavior and actions then things feel flat and out-right ignoring his obsession with Bruce and his inner darkness can be unrealistic. With Jeremiah, this is much worse because in canon, once No Man’s Land starts, all he can think about is Bruce. Everything he does in that setting and before this even started was for Bruce. This type of obsession is . . . well, something that can’t simply be ignored, it’s a big part of his character and also very integral to just who he is after the spray. It may not be as bad at the start of the spray (because he’s too busy rebuilding Gotham in his image) but literally second to that desire is his connection with Bruce. If there were a summary of Jeremiah as a character it would be IMPOSSIBLE to write it without Bruce (same with Jerome though his might be a footnote, depending). So him suddenly focusing on someone else is . . . odd (even with Jim he doesn’t give his full attention too and, in the finale, Jeremiah only starts moving around and doing shit when he realizes that Bruce has come home early and that it’s time to finally come back to the spotlight). Especially since he’s supposed to be the ‘Joker’ in the Gotham world, which, technically speaking, means this obsession with the Bat (a.k.a Bruce) will only ever get worse from here (not to mention the fact he knows Batman is Bruce because he remembers the prophecy Ra’s told him, which we’re shown in the finale when he first sees the Bat and comment��s ‘you’ in a knowing way; this can be argued he’s just recognizing that this is what the prophecy was talking about or that it’s Bruce but personally I think both cause the prophecy was about both of them.).

It’s hard not to repeat things in canon though, believe me, I know and if you ever try writing a time travel story, it’s much worse cause then you have to change literally everything if you’re doing it that way.  Nah, you know what you like; the only problem with that is it’ll be hard to find it most of the time. I wish you luck in searching! Hopefully, you’ll find something.

Same. My older brother introduced me to the show and his way of doing so was first telling me it was a batman show, that I would LOVE Oswald’s aesthetic and that there was a Joker-type character just introduced. I was sold lol. There’s been a lot of drama with the show though, concerning the twins and I honestly wish they’d just stuck with Jerome or if they did still use Jeremiah that he wasn't just . . . a backup plan for killing Jerome off. And, if they’d been allowed to go on for a few more seasons, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they would have also killed Jeremiah and a third (never heard of) Valeska twin (triplet) would show up, playing into the overall Joker lore about there having been three. 😒🤨😑 Which I find humorous because they did so well with Jerome, he was a well-rounded, fleshed out character and, as much as I love Jeremiah, it’s hard not to consider what we could have gotten if Jerome had lived *wistful sigh* I won’t lie that the drama hasn’t affected how I watch it too these days, or at least left me with a lasting impression.  I was very invested in the first few seasons, it was a good show, minus the plot-holes and annoying characters (yes, some annoy me and there are some I can’t stand) but when the twins were on screen, it was probably the show at its best. If they had implicated them more so into the main story I probably would have watched all the way to the end (I can admit, I’ve never seen season five, but I saw many clips, have been completely spoiled and DID watch the finale lol and . . . I think I saw some of season four? Maybe, not sure anymore.) because when they’re also interacting with Bruce, perfection. I could watch that shit for days. 

Also, if you did write it, it wouldn’t have to be about other characters if you don’t want it to be. You’re talking to me, who has never seen the last few seasons and when I wrote my first fic ‘Blindly Evident’ literally all my scenes I had to LOOK UP because I only knew the base of what the scene was even about lol. So sometimes, you can totally bullshit your way lol and somehow it turns out to be really good and you like it. Or it’s just snippets of small scenes with your characters (I’ve been writing a fic like that for awhile because it’s fun and easy and yet you can make it so thought provoking because these snippets are so smallll.) I would implore you to give it a go. Even if you have no idea what the other characters are doing or even what their names are. 

I feel like this has just become me rambling about Gotham and writing tips at this point lol but you’re welcome~ I am here to try and help and always willing to listen about Gotham and talk (or rant, I’m not picky lol). Thanks again for your ask, anon! Hope you find that content you’re looking for 🥰🧡💛

[dryadsbubbles]

Sweet, Sweet Fate (It’s Really Out of My Hands)

Anne finds herself in scrapes more often than not. And spilling scaling hot tea on a complete stranger? Very on brand for her.

Shirbert Modern Day University AU

(ao3 link)

---

“Medium green tea for Anne?”

Anne looked up from her phone that she had been aimlessly scrolling through. She smiled at the barista but he barely glanced at her as he slid the tea cup across the counter to her. She didn’t blame him though, if she had to serve coffee to customers for six hours straight, she wouldn’t bother glancing at anyone either. Not that she thought she deserved a glance from him today anyway. Her hair was thrown up in a lopsided bun and she had on the largest sweater she could find. She was here to get shit done and she wanted to be comfortable doing it.

She had just started her second year of university and she already felt as though there wasn’t enough time in the world to get done what needed to be done. In fact, she was skipping her Philosophy class at that very moment to finish her English paper that was due by midnight that night. Her plan was to park herself at the cafe for several hours until she finished.

Picking up the mug, Anne surveyed the cafe around her. It was filled with frantic students, middle aged women and businessmen with briefcases. It was around noon so it made sense that a lot of people would be here eating lunch, but she hadn’t expected it to be this busy. Looking around, she wasn’t sure if it was going to be possible to find a spot. Every table that she could see from her position near the counter was filled. But, on the other hand, leaving the cafe to find another place to write would mean she had to go back up to the barista and ask for a take out mug to transfer her tea into and she really didn’t want to do that to him.

So instead, she decided to move deeper into the room, hoping by some miracle that she’d find an empty table tucked away somewhere in a hidden corner. As she neared the back of the room with no luck, she noticed a boy- a good looking boy- around her age, sitting at a table to her right. She couldn’t quite figure out why he stood out to her, but she was intrigued by him. His hair was dark and untamed, as if he had been absently running his fingers through it all day. He had papers chaotically strewn all over the table and a textbook directly in front of him. He seemed to have tuned the rest of the world out, headphones covering his ears as his eyes intently scanned the pages of his book.

Distracted by the sight of the boy, Anne stopped watching where she was going and her foot snagged onto the leg of a chair she was passing. She managed to catch herself before she fell flat on her face, her tea however, was not as lucky. As if in slow motion, she watched as half of her steaming, green tea flew from her cup, through the air, and towards the messy haired boy. The tea splattered all over his papers, his textbook, and his hands.

The boy yelped and shot out of his seat.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, surprised.

Anne stood in shock. One hand held the now half empty tea mug and the other came up to cover her mouth in alarm. Her face turned red as his wide eyes met hers.

After a beat, Anne sprung into action. She quickly grabbed some napkins from a nearby dispenser and moved towards the boy.

“I am so sorry,” She explained to him while dabbing the pages of his soaked textbook. “I was just walking by trying to find a table to sit at. There aren’t many free ones right now because it’s the lunchtime rush but I was hoping that I would find one at the back because I really need to finish my paper and I didn’t want to go through the trouble of having to find another place to go so I was praying that there would be one back here. Anyway, I must have gotten distracted and tripped and my tea went everywhere. Not that I should be surprised that this happened really, I always find myself getting into scrapes like this- I have a knack for it- I find it quite humiliating somet-”

Her ramble was cut off because she realized that after she had finished wiping off his pages, she had grabbed his hand and started to wipe it down too. Almost immediately, she realized what she was doing and she dropped his hand as if it were on fire. She took a step back and looked him in the eyes, a blush rising to her cheeks again.

He blinked at her silently for a moment before a smile slowly started to creep onto his face. He gently took one of the dry napkins she was holding and began to dry off the rest of his hands.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, amused. “It was a fun little distraction from all the studying I’ve been doing.”

“I can’t see how getting hot tea spilled all over you and your work could be considered fun so I’ll have to take your word for it. Well, as long as you’re sure I haven’t done any permanent damage here, I’ll let you get back to your studying. Sorry, again.” She turned to leave.

“Wait!” The boy called after her. “You can sit here. At my table. If you want. Wouldn’t want you to have to leave to find another place when there’s a perfectly good chair here, across from me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” She replied, usure.

“No, no. Wouldn’t be intruding at all. Here let me just-” He scrambled to move some of the papers from “her” side of the table.

“Okay, well let me buy you another drink then.” She said, eyeing his empty mug. “It’s the least I can do for you after spilling tea all over you and then making you give up half of your study space.”

“I just might take you up on that. I’m going to be here for a while. I’m drinking black coffee.” He replied, handing her his mug.

“Coming right up, uh...” She hesitated.

“Gilbert,” He said. “Gilbert Blythe.”

Anne beamed at him, “Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

---

Anne returned successfully with a black coffee in one hand and a new green tea in the other. She placed the coffee in front of Gilbert and sat down in the seat across from him.

“Thank you” He said as he looked up from his notes.

He watched her for a minute as she got situated, taking her laptop out of her bag and turning it on.

“So you’re a student at the university here?” He asked her after a moment.

“Yeah I am. I’m in my second year, studying English.” She said, slightly surprised. She assumed that they were going to sit in silence and do their respective work. But he seemed as though he wanted to talk to her, probably in need of a study break she assumed. For some reason, Anne didn’t mind indulging him and his small talk so she continued the conversation,

“And judging by all the notes in front of you, I think it’s safe to assume that you’re also a student?”

“Yeah. I’m a third year. Pre-Med.” Gilbert answered.

Anne whistled softly. “Holy. That’s a lot of work. I’m stressed just thinking about it.”

“It’s not that bad if you love doing it. Although, right now I’d rather not be. I have a big test tomorrow that I am not prepared for at all. I’m skipping my class right now to study for it.”

Anne let out an understanding, breathy, laugh. “I know what you mean. I have a paper due tonight that I’ve hardly started. I had to skip my class right now too, to work on it.”

“Look at us. A couple of star students. What class are you skipping?”

“Intro to Philosophy.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No?”

“With Professor LeBlanc?”

“Yes?”

Gilbert laughed.

“That’s the class I’m skipping too.”

Anne giggled, surprised.

“What are the chances?” She asked.

“What are the chances?” He repeated, softly, deep in thought for a second before snapped out and said, “Now tell me, what’s your paper about?”

---

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. They worked in silence most of the time but there were sometimes when Gilbert would need another study break or Anne’s head would get too overwhelmed to write out a comprehensive sentence. At those times, they would talk.

They found that they had a lot in common. They both liked pineapple on their pizza, and both hated the colour orange. They both had fairly unconventional families. She found out that he lived with his “almost” brother, Bash, and his wife, Mary, and their baby Delphine. Anne took note of the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the baby. In turn, she told him about Marilla and Matthew and how they adopted her when she was 13 years old. She didn’t tell him about her life before the Cuthbert’s adopted her. That was a story for next time, when they weren’t in the middle of a public coffee shop.

As the clock neared suppertime, Anne neared the last few sentences of her paper. She knew that she had to leave soon, she had promised Diana and Ruby that she would be home for supper tonight. But Anne found herself reluctant to pack up her things, and instead tried to draw out her departure by reading her paper over three more times (to check for any overlooked spelling errors of course). Finally, Anne knew that she had to go or she’d be late. She closed her laptop and began packing up her things.

Gilbert looked up from what he was writing.

“You’re leaving?” He asked. Anne couldn’t help but think that he sounded a bit dejected but she knew it was only her wistful imagination.

“Yeah. I promised my friends I’d be home 15 minutes ago.”

Anne finished packing up her things and slung her bag over her shoulder. Her and Gilbert stared at each other for a moment. She wasn’t really sure what to say. So long? It was nice to meet you? Hey give me your number because I really enjoyed hanging out with you these past few hours and I’d really like to see you again. Also you’re really pretty? Instead, she just went with a simple,

“I guess I’ll see you around?”

Gilbert cleared his throat and stood up abruptly.

“Hey, why don’t I give you my number? You know, just in case you ever decide to skip class again and need someone to give you the notes.” He said teasingly.

She laughed and handed her phone over to him. They exchanged numbers and then Anne smiled at him.

“See you in class on Friday. Sorry again for spilling tea all over you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Perhaps it was fate.”

“Oh, I doubt that fate sent me here today to spill tea all over your work. That’s something far too unromantic for fate to be involved in.”

“I don’t know,” Gilbert replied teasingly, “I think we were destined to be friends, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

---

[jaebaebie]

Why Us? Why Now? Why Ever?

In a post apocalyptic world where walkers took over the living, Era realised that she was different from every one else. Wanting to uncover the reasons to her differences, she embarked on a journey to the West where she met a few Strays,, including a man named Hwang Hyun Jin who, just like her, was cold, hot headed, and full of distrust. She thought they would never get along, but what happens when the two cold hearts start to melt?

STRAY KIDS ZOMBIE AU // WUWNWE MASTERLIST

Chapter 2 ~ “Stalker much?

prev // next

“FUCK!”

I knew I was doomed the minute my eyes landed on the walker through the slightest gap between the wooden planks. The corpse, with all its anger and glory, was now squeezing its way through the broken plank, clawing its arms towards me.

I shook the metal chains around my wrist, trying to break out of it. Luckily for me, Han was nice enough to tie the chains tightly, but loose enough for me to squeeze my hands through it. Painfully and forcefully

The walker grabbed hold of my ankle, dragging me towards it. My elbow grazed along the rough cement floor and I kicked it right in the jaw, sparing me more time to pull my hand out of the chains.

I yelled in pain as I pulled my hand out, not caring about the possible sprain I was causing my wrist to have. Heck, I didn’t even care about possibly dislocating it. The walker was waist deep into the attic, and the wooden planks were no longer going to hold. It was either my wrist or my neck and I would rather live with a dislocated wrist rather than die from the savage walker.

I kicked it once more just as my right hand finally got free, and I immediately stretched to grab the crowbar from the table across me. On cue, the wooden plank snapped in half and the walker launched itself towards me, snapping onto my face.

With my legs I pushed it away before lunging the crow bar in between its eyes. My stomach churned as its decaying smell filled my nose. I would have hurled if I was not trying to fight for my life against it. With my left hand freed, I pulled the crowbar for another hit, only to realise that it had stuck in the corpse’s skull.

I kicked it once more, scanning around for anything that I could use. Just above the walker was a sharp plank that had gotten loose upon its entry, allowing a new idea to enter my brain.

I panted, letting out a shriek as the walker attacked once again, barely missing my face. I pushed it back with both hands, feeling my hands sink into its meat. With the last ounce of strength, I pushed it back, driving its head through the sharp plank. I watched as its body went limp, and the sound of its spitty hiss silenced.

The door to the storage attic burst open, revealing three shocked men.

“Holy shit.” Han gasped.

That indeed. I let out shaky breaths, panting uncontrollably as I finally managed to take a break from the event that had just unfolded.

“Im. Still. Not. Bit.”

I tried to catch my breath but it only felt like my breath just got slower. Louder..? My body began to feel heavier with every breath I took and my vision clouded, causing the three guys that appeared in front of me to disappear.

And then nothing.

————————————————————-

I woke up to find myself in a bed. In a small, tiled room lined with shelves of medical supplies. It smelled similar to that of the hospitals I used to visit with my parents before the apocalypse. Like alcohol. I sat up, immediately feeling the ache shoot through my entire body. My arm and wrist were nicely wrapped in bandages and a needle with embedded in the back of my palm, allowing me to be attached to one of those IV drips I had only seen in movies. 

I immediately looked away, not liking how to needle looked in my skin and how it felt. I was always afraid of them. So much so that I refused to get injections when I was younger.

The door opened and two boys entered. The two of them brought something special with them. Like the mood in the solemn room immediately lightened the minute they stepped foot in it. I looked at them, noticing the bright cheeky smile on one of their faces, while the other boy had a much shyer smile.

“You’re awake!” Cheeky smile boy exclaimed, rushing to me, “I heard your name was Era from Han. My name is Jeongin. That ‘quiet’ boy over there is Seungmin.”

Slightly taken aback by his sudden friendliness, I flinched back, giving him a weird look which he immediately noticed and apologised for.

“In just one minute you managed to scare her already, Jeongin.” Seungmin shook his head, causing the other to pout, “We got you all stitched up and we cleaned the rest of your wounds. You’re lucky Hyunjin found you.”

I couldn’t help but let out a small scoff, is that what he’s been telling people? “Yeah, I sure am.” I replied, my sarcasm wasn’t left unnoticed.

“You’re IV drip is finished, so Jeongin can take you to eat. You must be starving.”

It was true. I was extremely hungry. Like Seungmin said, Jeongin walked me to the ‘cafeteria’ outside with his non stop cheerful talking. I had to admit, he was cute. As in baby brother cute as he was probably a year or two younger than me. As we walked the halls, Jeongin told me about how him and 8 others found the camp not long after the apocalypse hit. Ever since, they’ve been focusing on trying to establish a walker free zone and strengthening the barricades around the camp.

He stated that it was a great place to start with, especially since it was already equipped with separate rooms, bathrooms, infirmaries. The ‘cafeteria’ was placed outside, where the campfire was set to cook food. He pushed open the double doors of the school, allowing sunlight to hit my face. 

“Welcome to Camp Miroh, Era.”

Jeongin passed me a tray, before leading me to walk to a woman managing the pot at the bonfire. She appeared to be in her mid 30s, giving me a warm smile as she scooped my ration into my tray.

As we walked towards one of the tables, I realised that the camp mostly consisted of guys my age, elders and children. Children played with one another, oblivious to the terrors in the world around them while elders watched over them as they stitched or washed clothing. The teenagers were having their lunch, watching every move of mine as I walked with Jeong In. 

“Don’t mind them, we never find girls your age.” Jeongin explained, settling down on a table with a couple of boys, “Speaking of which, how old are you, Era?”

“19.”

“Oh cool, were the same age!” Another guy whom we sat on the same table with exclaimed. “I’m Felix, by the way.”

“You’re not very chatty, huh?” Jeongin asked, finally noticing my awkward short answers. It almost felt too overwhelming. I’ve been stuck alone for the past two months with nothing but walkers and deers which I’ve hunted, and now I’m surrounded with plenty of extroverted men who never ran out of conversation starters.

Felix nudged Jeongin at his side, shaking his head, “I think you’re just too chatty, Jeong In. Let her eat.”

Jeong In and Felix began talking more about the camp, which I didn’t mind. Turns out, Chan was the leader who ran the camp, while Han, Hyun Jin and a guy called Chang Bin were his ‘right’ hand men, the three would run the camp should Chan be absent. Though, Hyun Jin was mainly focussed in ensuring the safety of the camp through training men who were skilled in weapons.

Just as I scraped the last bit of my food off the plate, Han jogged towards us, the same smile I had seen on his face the day before,

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

I nodded, “Better.”.

“She’s not very chatty, Han.” Jeongin announced, earning a hit from Felix.

Han let out a low chuckle, glancing towards me with his head tilted, doubting Jeongin’s previous statement, “Really? I’m sure Hyunjin would think otherwise.”

I rolled my eyes, recalling the loud arguments that had occurred the day before. 

“Are you done? Chan wants to see you.”

I nodded, standing up as Jeongin and Felix waved to me.

I followed as Han led the way. Han gave off a different aura from the rest of the group. He was quiet, but friendly. It was comforting. Warm. A feeling I hadn’t felt in a while.

“I’m guessing Jeongin told you about our camp?” Han asked, attempting to start a conversation,

“And more..” I replied, earning a chuckle from Han.

“Yeah, he’s like that. He’s the youngest out of the 9 of us but he brings sunshine wherever he goes.”

I nodded, agreeing with Han’s statement. It was true, Jeongin’s charm was just too hard to ignore because he simply was able to lighten any of the darkest souls. Including mine, possibly.

“I’m really sorry for leaving you out there, Era.” Han apologised, the smile on his face being replace with a guilty frown, “We left you with a dog bite and you came back having been almost bitten by a walker, a sprained wrist, a grazed elbow and almost dying from excessive blood loss.”

I gave him a look, finding his rambles funny, “Stalker much?”

Han shrugged, brushing me off with a smile, “Nah. I did have time to examine you on our way back though.”

Right. How did I get back?

“Hyun Jin carried you all the way back,, kinda his punishment for being strongly against helping you.”

I let out a small chuckle, earning a bigger smile from him.

We reached Chan’s so called ‘office’-- A room with a small table and guns, flashlights, crossbows placed at another table stationed at the corner of the room. A large map was taped up to one of the walls, scribbled with many red and blue circles. My eyes landed on Hyun Jin, who was leaning against the Chan’s table with his arms crossed. The cut I left him was still visible on his cheek.

“We’re glad you’re okay, Era. I think we didn’t get to introduce ourselves properly.”

Hyunjin scoffed, muttering a soft, “I wonder why.”

“I’m Chan.” Chan said, ignoring Hyunjin’s unnecessary comment.

“Han.”

Hyunjin frowned when the two guys turned to him, awaiting for his own introduction. Han nudged him at his side, causing him to flinch, sighing, he finally introduced himself

“Hyunjin.” He greeted, clearly unamused with my appearance.

“Can you please be more cooperative now that we’ve saved your life?” Chan asked, a hint of firmness in his attempted soft voice.

“By saving, you mean saving my life only after putting it at risk? Sure.” I replied, catching the three of them off guard by my direct response.

“Okay about that, we’re really sorry. We really just couldn’t risk bringing you back. Locking you and tying you up.. we were just scared.”

I nodded, taking in my surroundings one more time. They had a big camp  established which served as a safe haven for many people of different ages. They had to take precautions. Be selfish. Finally, I was able to understand their mindset, “Its alright, I would’ve done the same.”

Chan smiled, “So, how’d you get this far?”

I sighed, tired at the same question being asked. Realising that I haven’t actually answered it, I finally gave in, “I don’t know.. I ran, hid. Just the normal shit.”

“You do know having her around is just gonna worsen our food situation right? She’s just another mouth to feed.” Hyun Jin commented.

“Does everything that comes out of your mouth always have to be shit?” I shot back, “Besides, you don’t have to be worry about that.”

Han straightened out, glancing from Chan and then turning back to me with his eyebrow raised as realisation dawned onto him,

“You’re not staying?” Han asked, eyes immediately widening with some kind of emotion I couldn’t decipher. Shock? Worry?

I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t remember asking you guys to take me in.”

“But you really should. You’ll be safe here. We’ll protect you.” Chan explained, sending tingles down my spine as I recalled the last time I heard that sentence. 

The last time someone had claimed they’d protect me, I was thrown to the walkers after they took everything I owned. My gun. Food. Water. Everything. I was a vulnerable 17 year old who found ‘safe haven’ at the wrong place.

“No thanks. I don’t do people.”

Hyunjin cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes on me, “Why? Some boyfriend waiting for you at another base?”

I rolled my eyes, “I already said, I’m not with people. The last time I was with a group I was fed to a group of walkers.”.

Chan nodded, appearing distant and deep in thought. He wasn’t listening to me. 

“You’re good with the bow and arrow?” Chan asked, bringing up my bag onto his table. I sighed in relief, seeing that they didn’t leave it behind when they decided to lock me in a cabin.

“I guess. I’d be happy to just take that and go.”

“I’m guessing you can hunt.” Chan added, disregarding my eagerness to leave as he earned the attention of Han and Hyunjin,, as if a light bulb went off in their heads.

I raised my brows, observing the change in their attitudes. 

“You can’t?” I realised, “What have you guys been surviving on, then?”

“Non perishables.” Han answered, slumping against Chan’s desk as he sighed, “The camp came along with canned foods which lasted us about a year or so. But then we’ve been running short in supply despite our daily ‘supermarket’ visits.”

“..We’ve tried hunting but none of us are any good with it. It would be really great if you could help us, Era.” Chan continued.

I crossed my arms, stepping back to think about it. I had no intention of staying. I had to be somewhere else. Staying would mean having to work as a team, and I hated the fact that I would have to be fending for others other than myself. But they looked at me hopeful, and I knew that these guys were doing their best to help the others. I pictured the elderly and children who saw this place as their safe haven. These guys were thinking beyond themselves and what they needed.

“I don’t know. Having just another mouth to feed might be too much for you guys.” I remarked, clearly targeting the man who immediately avoided my gaze, “How about we chain you up in an attic and see in the morning?”

The guys sighed, almost in sync.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you’d be this useful.” Hyunjin ‘apologised’, earning a smack from Han as I scoffed. “Keep talking and I’ll show you what useless is, asshole.”

I let out a breath, letting sympathy take over. One thing was obvious. All of them, including Hyunjin whom I thought was incapable of caring for others, had the same look in their eyes. Desperation. They knew they wouldn’t last with just canned foods, and they needed to learn how to hunt fast if they were to keep the camp alive to protect the people who lived in it.

“Fine. I’ll teach you how to hunt. Just promise me you don’t throw me to a hoard of walkers.”

[yilingradishfairy]

Chasing Chaos (2631 words) by SakuraKage Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Lán Jǐngyí Summary:

This fic is about Wei Wuxian, Bringer of Chaos, and Lan Wangji, Chaser of Chaos. Or two times Wei Wuxian unintentionally calls the Chief Cultivator to his aid, and one time he did it intentionally. (Also, a Birthday Surprise for Lan Zhan ^_^)

Written for Wangji Week 2020

Day 4 – Wherever the Chaos Is

So, I recently learned what a 5+1 fic is!  This … is not that.  Well, I guess it is, if you squint at it and also you’re bad at math.  But hey!  Two plus one equals three which is always better than none, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  It’s a little confused, but it’s got the spirit lol

The first time that Chief Cultivator Lan heard that Wei Wuxian was stirring up trouble, he set off immediately to lend assistance.  To which party, his Council was not privy to, but they could guess.   “Wei Ying?” “Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s head popped out from the dirt mound, his hair tangled and clothes in disarray.  Lan Wangji noted the way his eyes lit up upon recognizing his beloved and hoped that Wei Ying could recognize the same elation in him.  Three months had truly been too long.   Wei Ying led him behind the dirt pile, calling out, “Hang on, Lan Zhan!  I’m almost done with this!” Lan Wangji watched patiently, interpreting each of the talismans that Wei Ying was arranging.  The seal array was intricate, but not demonic in nature.  As usual, the rumors appeared to be much nastier than the truth.   Finally, Wei Ying fully emerged from the dirt heap and bounded over to Lan Wangji.  “So, what is the illustrious Hanguang Jun doing in a place like this?  Shouldn’t you be busy doing Chief Cultivator stuff?” “Am doing,” Lan Wangji agreed with a curt nod.  “Investigating.”   “Investigating what?” Wei Ying asked, leaning forward to bump his shoulder against his beloved’s.  Lan Wangji looked down in surprise at where their shoulders had touched, amazed at the wave of longing that passed through him.  How he missed the easy touching that Wei Ying always instigated.  But his beloved must have misinterpreted the look, because he hastily pulled back, apologizing, “Sorry, Lan Zhan, I’m a mess right now.”   He patted his clothes down and pushed his hair messily behind his shoulder, as if that would help.  Lan Wangji felt his lips twitch into a fond half-smile, and he reached out to tug the twisted hair ribbon out of his beloved’s unruly hair.  “Ridiculous,” he judged, as Wei Ying willingly turned around at Lan Wangji’s silent request.   Wei Ying barked out a laugh.  “Yeah, I guess I look pretty ridiculous.”  He waved his arms around to encompass his disheveled form, from the ripped clothing to the layer of mud to the hair he was currently fixing.   “No,” Lan Wangji clarified, carefully tugging the hair into his favored style.  “Your words are ridiculous.” “My words?” he questioned.  He tilted his head, unmindful of the ponytail Lan Wangji was trying to tame his hair into.   “Wei Ying is always a mess,” he replied simply.   “Ahahahaha!” Wei Ying doubled over in laughter, pulling away from the knot Lan Wangji had just finished tying his hair ribbon into.  “Lan-er-gege has developed a sense of humor in the months I’ve been away.  How unfair that I have missed it!”   “Mn,” Lan Wangji murmured, ignoring the flush he could feel crawling up his ears.   “I guess Chief Cultivator Lan needs it, having to deal with those old windbags all day!”  Wei Ying straightened, and Lan Wangji’s eyes were drawn to the ponytail that was still defiantly askew.  “Speaking of, I can’t believe your Council lets the Chief Cultivator come out to random night hunts, all alone and unprotected.  Surely the cultivating world wouldn’t survive a day without you to lead it,” Wei Ying grinned impishly.   “Can survive,” Lan Wangji assured him.  “Needed to verify rumors about Wei Ying.” "So you dropped everything and traveled all this way for this small matter."  Wei Ying shook his head.  “So this is what they meant about chasing the chaos,” he muttered under his breath.  "How did you hear about this?"   "Lan Sizhui's report," Lan Wangji answered.   "Oh, right.  The Zhangs' servant probably…" Wei Ying trailed off, the gears in his mind turning rapidly in a way that had always uniquely enchanted Lan Wangji.   "The whole thing got blown up out of proportion, anyway.  You see, Lan Zhan, the daughter had run away, and the cousin got in a bit of a bad spot with a demonic cultivator, who somehow ended up finding…" Wei Ying rambled, detailing the convoluted Zhang family drama as he led Lan Wangji back to the Zhang Manor.   After checking with the family and verifying that everything was taken care of, Lan Wangji asked where Wei Ying was headed to next.   He hurriedly shook his head, assuring him, "Oh, Hanguang Jun doesn't have to worry about me!  Your Wei Ying is safe and happy, traveling the world."  Not as happy as I would be with you, goes unsaid, but they both understood.   Lan Wangji disputed, “Always have to check on Wei Ying.”   Wei Ying shook his head again and reiterated, “Lan Zhan, really, you don't have to trouble yourself anymore.  You're the Chief Cultivator!  You can't just hop Bichen for every far-flung rumor!" He playfully admonished.   "Bichen is fast." Wei Ying just laughed sadly.  "I know.  Still, you have people for that!  You need to go rest or attend to your thousands of duties or whatever you need to do.  Don't you worry about me.”   Lan Wangji stared into his earnest face.  He hardly wanted to walk away from him after seeing him again for the first time in three months … but it looks like the Zhangs’ issues have been resolved, and he should probably head home to his piles of work.  “Wei Ying is certain?”   “Yeah,” Wei Ying smiled sadly.  “Chief Cultivator is a big responsibility.  Everyone else needs you more than I do.”  

---

The second time that Chief Cultivator Lan heard that the upstart Yiling Laozu was back at it again, he absently wondered if it was intentional.  After all, night hunting is the only activity during which he, as Chief Cultivator, can come down from the Council and mingle with the common people.  And it's the only activity during which he and Wei Ying get to see each other.  His Council did not particularly care if the Yiling Laozu was baiting him or not, but they were certainly sending along chaperones bodyguards from now on.  Even if the only volunteers they could get this time were Hanguang Jun’s own son and his best friend.   "Wei-qianbei!" Lan Wangji watched his son jump up in the middle of their meal to rush through the crowded inn and greet Wei Ying.  Lan Jingyi raced after his best friend, and Lan Wangji began rearranging the food on the table for a fourth person.   “A-Yuan!  Lan Jingyi!  What are you two doing here?” he heard his beloved ask them.  “Are yo- Lan Zhan!”  Wei Ying finally spotted Lan Wangji at the corner table.  Time seemed to slow down as they drank in the sight of each other.   Wei Ying recovered his speech almost immediately though.  "Oh, Lan Zhan, it's so good to see you out and about again!  How did the busy Chief Cultivator get out of his duties this time?" He teased, rushing over to sit by him.  "Looks like the Elders wisened up and sent along some fierce bodyguards to protect you.  Not that the mighty Hanguang Jun needs protecting."   "Mn," Lan Wangji agreed absently, busily fixing Wei Ying a cup of tea.  "Did not like my being alone last time." "So now you've got help," Wei Ying accepted his tea with a smile before turning to appraise the juniors curiously.  "What are they helping you with?" "Ah, we're chasing the chaos, Wei-qianbei!" Lan Sizhui happily announced, sitting next to Wei Ying.  "And it looks like you're the chaos!" "Who, me?" Wei Ying widened his eyes comically and set down his tea cup in mock affront.  "Why, that doesn't sound anything like me!  I haven't caused any chaos in a whole day!"   Lan Wangji raised a single eyebrow.   "Oi, don't be like that, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying pouted, bumping his shoulder into his.  "Lan-er-gege is too cruel.  Has the esteemed Hanguang Jun really come all this way to hunt down the wicked Yiling Laozu?" He teased, the words spilling out in an effusive rush.  Lan Wangji wondered how he had gotten used to not hearing his name a thousand different times, a thousand different ways all in one breath.  He absently wished he could always hear himself being called thus by Wei Ying.   Lan Sizhui hid an amused smile behind his sleeve, but Lan Jingyi pressed forward.  "So it really was you?  You have been harvesting souls and forcing them to wreak havoc here?" "That was most definitely not me!” protested Wei Ying indignantly.  “That’s my brainless copycat."  Wei Ying scowled.  "I caught him this morning.  Jerk.  He’s been parading around as the Yiling Patriarch and sullying my good name."   “What good name?” Lan Jingyi asked dubiously.   “Ah, why are you so mean!  Don’t be so blunt!” Wei Ying leaned away from Lan Jingyi and turned beseeching eyes on Lan Wangji.  “Lan Zhan, defend me!”   “No talking while eating,” Lan Wangji dutifully responded, pushing some food toward his beloved.  However, Lan Sizhui, who had already finished eating, was able to ask, “Wei-qianbei?  Did you say you caught him already?"   Wei Ying nodded seriously and motioned toward the stables.  “He’s out there with Little Apple.” "Should we take him back to Gusu now?" Lan Jingyi asked reluctantly, looking toward Lan Wangji.   "Ah, if you have to go quickly, I can go fetch him right now,” Wei Ying set the food back on the table and began to stand.  "You must be so busy…" Lan Wangji reflexively grabbed his hand to stop him from getting up.  "Not busy," he refuted.  He motioned toward the untouched food with his other hand.  "Eat." "It's really no trouble," Wei Ying protested weakly, but he settled back into his seat.  The hand that was caught under Lan Wangji's turned in its grasp to squeeze back.   "No talking while eating," Lan Wangji repeated, heaping food onto Lan Sizhui's empty plate and pushing it toward Wei Ying.  

---

The third time that Chief Cultivator Lan heard that Wei Ying was making mischief, he left without notifying his Council.  They have been exceptionally needy lately.  They disapproved whenever he left for a nighthunt, even the ones that were not related to the Yiling Laozu.  They didn't seem to understand that he always offered his help unequivocally, and he liked to be present for the particularly tricky nighthunts.  But he did take particular care to always be on hand for matters relating to Wei Ying.   “Lan Zhan.”   Lan Wangji turned around to see Wei Ying walking up behind him on the busy street.  He granted him a beatific smile, and Lan Wangji could not keep delight from turning up the corners of his mouth.  “I knew you would come for me.” “What is the danger?” Lan Wangji asked, scanning him for signs of distress.   “Always straight to the point,” Wei Ying laughed.  “Don’t worry; there’s no danger today!” Lan Wangji furrowed his brow.  “The reports…” “Ahaha, you can’t believe everything that you read, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying admonished playfully.  “Those reports may have been a teensy bit exaggerated,” he admitted.  “I swear to you, I pose no danger to anyone here.” Lan Wangji considered him pensively.  “And Wei Ying is not in danger?” he confirmed.   Wei Ying nodded earnestly, pledging, “I am neither in danger nor a danger to others.  You, however, are.”   “Me,” Lan Wangji repeated dumbly.   “Yes, you.  Look at yourself,” Wei Ying chided.  “You need to take proper care of yourself!  That must be one of your three thousand and some rules, right?  If it isn’t, it surely needs to be.  You’re not getting nearly enough rest!  What happened to the strict nine-to-five?  When was the last time you took a break?” “A break?” Lan Wangji echoed, still surprised by the turn of events.   “Oh, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” He sighed, turning serious.  He reached out to graze the dark circles under his eyes.  “You look so tired.  What is it like?  To carry the whole world on your shoulders.”   Lan Wangji instinctively leaned into his beloved’s touch, and he reached up to grasp the hand that so gently stroked his face.  Wei Ying unthinkingly tangled their fingers together and continued on.  “I have it on good authority that you’ve been unreasonably busy recently.  What is your Council thinking?  How can they expect yo-” Wei Ying rambled on, inadvertently riling himself up with each successive thought.   “Authority?  Who?” Lan Wangji interjected, latching onto the possible security breach.  He tried not to feel flattered about the implication that Wei Ying cared enough to place an informant to update him about Lan Wangji, but a potential spy in the Cloud Recesses cannot be tolerated.   “Ah, he asked for you to not be mad at him,” Wei Ying prefaced.  “But I told him since he just wants to take care of you, you couldn’t possibly get mad at him.”   “Lan Sizhui,” Lan Wangji realized.  “He ran into you during a night hunt.”   “He’s been so worried about you,” Wei Ying admitted, smiling fondly.  “You raised such a good son.  A-Yuan told me about the birthday treat he was trying to arrange for you, but …”   “Your son, too,” Lan Wangji interrupted.  His caring heart, he doesn’t say, is yours.   Wei Ying grins, “Yeah.  Our son.” “But why?” Lan Wangji pointedly glanced around the street and at the space between them.  Why are you here?  He doesn’t say.  Why am I here? “I know we agreed to part ways for the moment, so you could take care of your duties as Chief Cultivator,” Wei Ying began hesitantly.  “But I couldn’t watch you work yourself into the ground.”  He looked up stubbornly.  “The Council asks too much of you, too much for any human to handle.  They couldn’t spare you even a day to celebrate your birthday.”   “So you orchestrated … this?” Lan Wangji repeated, dumbfounded.   “Well, if there’s no other way to get you to take a break, I had to improvise,” Wei Ying grinned impishly.  “I’m rather good at that.”  He handed him a hand drawn map.  “This leads to a little abandoned farm house.  I’ve been repairing it off and on, but I want you to use it for the day.” Lan Wangji took the map, still silently waiting for him to continue.   “Take the day off.  For your birthday.  No clan, no council, no cultivation world.  Just a relaxing retreat,” Wei Ying explained.  “Surely the world can spare you… for one day.  For this day.”  He smiled hopefully up at his beloved.  

Lan Wangji was just about to nod, to give in and accept this thoughtful birthday gift, when Wei Ying started to walk away.   “Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asked in bewilderment.  Why would he craft the most elaborate plan to get them alone together and then walk away? Wei Ying paused, turning back to him.   “Will you not stay?” Wei Ying gave a slight laugh.  “Only if Lan Zhan wants me to.”  He fidgeted and looked away.  “I know I’m not really relaxing…” “Stay.”  He interrupted forcefully.  “Please.”  Lan Wangji stared intently into his beloved’s eyes, hoping his own beseeching eyes would communicate what his words could not.   “Oh, Lan Zhan.” He nodded in understanding and smiled blissfully, crinkling his eyes at the corners.  “Okay, Wei Ying will stay with you, but you have to rest.  Do you hear me?” he ordered playfully.  “This is a restful birthday retreat, and I want nothing but resting from you.”   Lan Wangji felt his mouth twitch into an answering smile at the sight of stern and protective Wei Ying.  He knew that tomorrow he would have to return to Gusu and give account to the Council.  He knew he probably would not see Wei Ying again until the next time he caused some chaos (or conveniently happened to be there anyway).  But this day, this perfect day, was a birthday gift he would treasure until the time he can lay down his Chief Cultivator title.  Then, maybe, everyday will be like this. The first time that Chief Cultivator Lan heard that Wei Wuxian was stirring up trouble, he set off immediately to lend assistance.  To which party, his Council was not privy to, but they could guess.   “Wei Ying?” “Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s head popped out from the dirt mound, his hair tangled and clothes in disarray.  Lan Wangji noted the way his eyes lit up upon recognizing his beloved and hoped that Wei Ying could recognize the same elation in him.  Three months had truly been too long.   Wei Ying led him behind the dirt pile, calling out, “Hang on, Lan Zhan!  I’m almost done with this!” Lan Wangji watched patiently, interpreting each of the talismans that Wei Ying was arranging.  The seal array was intricate, but not demonic in nature.  As usual, the rumors appeared to be much nastier than the truth.   Finally, Wei Ying fully emerged from the dirt heap and bounded over to Lan Wangji.  “So, what is the illustrious Hanguang Jun doing in a place like this?  Shouldn’t you be busy doing Chief Cultivator stuff?” “Am doing,” Lan Wangji agreed with a curt nod.  “Investigating.”   “Investigating what?” Wei Ying asked, leaning forward to bump his shoulder against his beloved’s.  Lan Wangji looked down in surprise at where their shoulders had touched, amazed at the wave of longing that passed through him.  How he missed the easy touching that Wei Ying always instigated.  But his beloved must have misinterpreted the look, because he hastily pulled back, apologizing, “Sorry, Lan Zhan, I’m a mess right now.”   He patted his clothes down and pushed his hair messily behind his shoulder, as if that would help.  Lan Wangji felt his lips twitch into a fond half-smile, and he reached out to tug the twisted hair ribbon out of his beloved’s unruly hair.  “Ridiculous,” he judged, as Wei Ying willingly turned around at Lan Wangji’s silent request.   Wei Ying barked out a laugh.  “Yeah, I guess I look pretty ridiculous.”  He waved his arms around to encompass his disheveled form, from the ripped clothing to the layer of mud to the hair he was currently fixing.   “No,” Lan Wangji clarified, carefully tugging the hair into his favored style.  “Your words are ridiculous.” “My words?” he questioned.  He tilted his head, unmindful of the ponytail Lan Wangji was trying to tame his hair into.   “Wei Ying is always a mess,” he replied simply.   “Ahahahaha!” Wei Ying doubled over in laughter, pulling away from the knot Lan Wangji had just finished tying his hair ribbon into.  “Lan-er-gege has developed a sense of humor in the months I’ve been away.  How unfair that I have missed it!”  

“Mn,” Lan Wangji murmured, ignoring the flush he could feel crawling up his ears.   “I guess Chief Cultivator Lan needs it, having to deal with those old windbags all day!”  Wei Ying straightened, and Lan Wangji’s eyes were drawn to the ponytail that was still defiantly askew.  “Speaking of, I can’t believe your Council lets the Chief Cultivator come out to random night hunts, all alone and unprotected.  Surely the cultivating world wouldn’t survive a day without you to lead it,” Wei Ying grinned impishly.   “Can survive,” Lan Wangji assured him.  “Needed to verify rumors about Wei Ying.” "So you dropped everything and traveled all this way for this small matter."  Wei Ying shook his head.  “So this is what they meant about chasing the chaos,” he muttered under his breath.  "How did you hear about this?"   "Lan Sizhui's report," Lan Wangji answered.   "Oh, right.  The Zhangs' servant probably…" Wei Ying trailed off, the gears in his mind turning rapidly in a way that had always uniquely enchanted Lan Wangji.   "The whole thing got blown up out of proportion, anyway.  You see, Lan Zhan, the daughter had run away, and the cousin got in a bit of a bad spot with a demonic cultivator, who somehow ended up finding…" Wei Ying rambled, detailing the convoluted Zhang family drama as he led Lan Wangji back to the Zhang Manor.   After checking with the family and verifying that everything was taken care of, Lan Wangji asked where Wei Ying was headed to next.   He hurriedly shook his head, assuring him, "Oh, Hanguang Jun doesn't have to worry about me!  Your Wei Ying is safe and happy, traveling the world."  Not as happy as I would be with you, goes unsaid, but they both understood.   Lan Wangji disputed, “Always have to check on Wei Ying.”   Wei Ying shook his head again and reiterated, “Lan Zhan, really, you don't have to trouble yourself anymore.  You're the Chief Cultivator!  You can't just hop Bichen for every far-flung rumor!" He playfully admonished.   "Bichen is fast." Wei Ying just laughed sadly.  "I know.  Still, you have people for that!  You need to go rest or attend to your thousands of duties or whatever you need to do.  Don't you worry about me.”   Lan Wangji stared into his earnest face.  He hardly wanted to walk away from him after seeing him again for the first time in three months … but it looks like the Zhangs’ issues have been resolved, and he should probably head home to his piles of work.  “Wei Ying is certain?”   “Yeah,” Wei Ying smiled sadly.  “Chief Cultivator is a big responsibility.  Everyone else needs you more than I do.”  

---

The second time that Chief Cultivator Lan heard that the upstart Yiling Laozu was back at it again, he absently wondered if it was intentional.  After all, night hunting is the only activity during which he, as Chief Cultivator, can come down from the Council and mingle with the common people.  And it's the only activity during which he and Wei Ying get to see each other.  His Council did not particularly care if the Yiling Laozu was baiting him or not, but they were certainly sending along chaperones bodyguards from now on.  Even if the only volunteers they could get this time were Hanguang Jun’s own son and his best friend.   "Wei-qianbei!" Lan Wangji watched his son jump up in the middle of their meal to rush through the crowded inn and greet Wei Ying.  Lan Jingyi raced after his best friend, and Lan Wangji began rearranging the food on the table for a fourth person.   “A-Yuan!  Lan Jingyi!  What are you two doing here?” he heard his beloved ask them.  “Are yo- Lan Zhan!”  Wei Ying finally spotted Lan Wangji at the corner table.  Time seemed to slow down as they drank in the sight of each other.   Wei Ying recovered his speech almost immediately though.  "Oh, Lan Zhan, it's so good to see you out and about again!  How did the busy Chief Cultivator get out of his duties this time?" He teased, rushing over to sit by him.  "Looks like the Elders wisened up and sent along some fierce bodyguards to protect you.  Not that the mighty Hanguang Jun needs protecting."   "Mn," Lan Wangji agreed absently, busily fixing Wei Ying a cup of tea.  "Did not like my being alone last time." "So now you've got help," Wei Ying accepted his tea with a smile before turning to appraise the juniors curiously.  "What are they helping you with?" "Ah, we're chasing the chaos, Wei-qianbei!" Lan Sizhui happily announced, sitting next to Wei Ying.  "And it looks like you're the chaos!" "Who, me?" Wei Ying widened his eyes comically and set down his tea cup in mock affront.  "Why, that doesn't sound anything like me!  I haven't caused any chaos in a whole day!"   Lan Wangji raised a single eyebrow.   "Oi, don't be like that, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying pouted, bumping his shoulder into his.  "Lan-er-gege is too cruel.  Has the esteemed Hanguang Jun really come all this way to hunt down the wicked Yiling Laozu?" He teased, the words spilling out in an effusive rush.  Lan Wangji wondered how he had gotten used to not hearing his name a thousand different times, a thousand different ways all in one breath.  He absently wished he could always hear himself being called thus by Wei Ying.   Lan Sizhui hid an amused smile behind his sleeve, but Lan Jingyi pressed forward.  "So it really was you?  You have been harvesting souls and forcing them to wreak havoc here?" "That was most definitely not me!” protested Wei Ying indignantly.  “That’s my brainless copycat."  Wei Ying scowled.  "I caught him this morning.  Jerk.  He’s been parading around as the Yiling Patriarch and sullying my good name."   “What good name?” Lan Jingyi asked dubiously.   “Ah, why are you so mean!  Don’t be so blunt!” Wei Ying leaned away from Lan Jingyi and turned beseeching eyes on Lan Wangji.  “Lan Zhan, defend me!”   “No talking while eating,” Lan Wangji dutifully responded, pushing some food toward his beloved.  However, Lan Sizhui, who had already finished eating, was able to ask, “Wei-qianbei?  Did you say you caught him already?"   Wei Ying nodded seriously and motioned toward the stables.  “He’s out there with Little Apple.” "Should we take him back to Gusu now?" Lan Jingyi asked reluctantly, looking toward Lan Wangji.   "Ah, if you have to go quickly, I can go fetch him right now,” Wei Ying set the food back on the table and began to stand.  "You must be so busy…" Lan Wangji reflexively grabbed his hand to stop him from getting up.  "Not busy," he refuted.  He motioned toward the untouched food with his other hand.  "Eat." "It's really no trouble," Wei Ying protested weakly, but he settled back into his seat.  The hand that was caught under Lan Wangji's turned in its grasp to squeeze back.   "No talking while eating," Lan Wangji repeated, heaping food onto Lan Sizhui's empty plate and pushing it toward Wei Ying.  

---

The third time that Chief Cultivator Lan heard that Wei Ying was making mischief, he left without notifying his Council.  They have been exceptionally needy lately.  They disapproved whenever he left for a nighthunt, even the ones that were not related to the Yiling Laozu.  They didn't seem to understand that he always offered his help unequivocally, and he liked to be present for the particularly tricky nighthunts.  But he did take particular care to always be on hand for matters relating to Wei Ying.   “Lan Zhan.”   Lan Wangji turned around to see Wei Ying walking up behind him on the busy street.  He granted him a beatific smile, and Lan Wangji could not keep delight from turning up the corners of his mouth.  “I knew you would come for me.” “What is the danger?” Lan Wangji asked, scanning him for signs of distress.   “Always straight to the point,” Wei Ying laughed.  “Don’t worry; there’s no danger today!” Lan Wangji furrowed his brow.  “The reports…” “Ahaha, you can’t believe everything that you read, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying admonished playfully.  “Those reports may have been a teensy bit exaggerated,” he admitted.  “I swear to you, I pose no danger to anyone here.” Lan Wangji considered him pensively.  “And Wei Ying is not in danger?” he confirmed.   Wei Ying nodded earnestly, pledging, “I am neither in danger nor a danger to others.  You, however, are.”   “Me,” Lan Wangji repeated dumbly.   “Yes, you.  Look at yourself,” Wei Ying chided.  “You need to take proper care of yourself!  That must be one of your three thousand and some rules, right?  If it isn’t, it surely needs to be.  You’re not getting nearly enough rest!  What happened to the strict nine-to-five?  When was the last time you took a break?” “A break?” Lan Wangji echoed, still surprised by the turn of events.   “Oh, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” He sighed, turning serious.  He reached out to graze the dark circles under his eyes.  “You look so tired.  What is it like?  To carry the whole world on your shoulders.”   Lan Wangji instinctively leaned into his beloved’s touch, and he reached up to grasp the hand that so gently stroked his face.  Wei Ying unthinkingly tangled their fingers together and continued on.  “I have it on good authority that you’ve been unreasonably busy recently.  What is your Council thinking?  How can they expect yo-” Wei Ying rambled on, inadvertently riling himself up with each successive thought.   “Authority?  Who?” Lan Wangji interjected, latching onto the possible security breach.  He tried not to feel flattered about the implication that Wei Ying cared enough to place an informant to update him about Lan Wangji, but a potential spy in the Cloud Recesses cannot be tolerated.   “Ah, he asked for you to not be mad at him,” Wei Ying prefaced.  “But I told him since he just wants to take care of you, you couldn’t possibly get mad at him.”   “Lan Sizhui,” Lan Wangji realized.  “He ran into you during a night hunt.”   “He’s been so worried about you,” Wei Ying admitted, smiling fondly.  “You raised such a good son.  A-Yuan told me about the birthday treat he was trying to arrange for you, but …”   “Your son, too,” Lan Wangji interrupted.  His caring heart, he doesn’t say, is yours.   Wei Ying grins, “Yeah.  Our son.” “But why?” Lan Wangji pointedly glanced around the street and at the space between them.  Why are you here?  He doesn’t say.  Why am I here? “I know we agreed to part ways for the moment, so you could take care of your duties as Chief Cultivator,” Wei Ying began hesitantly.  “But I couldn’t watch you work yourself into the ground.”  He looked up stubbornly.  “The Council asks too much of you, too much for any human to handle.  They couldn’t spare you even a day to celebrate your birthday.”   “So you orchestrated … this?” Lan Wangji repeated, dumbfounded.   “Well, if there’s no other way to get you to take a break, I had to improvise,” Wei Ying grinned impishly.  “I’m rather good at that.”  He handed him a hand drawn map.  “This leads to a little abandoned farm house.  I’ve been repairing it off and on, but I want you to use it for the day.” Lan Wangji took the map, still silently waiting for him to continue.   “Take the day off.  For your birthday.  No clan, no council, no cultivation world.  Just a relaxing retreat,” Wei Ying explained.  “Surely the world can spare you… for one day.  For this day.”  He smiled hopefully up at his beloved.  Lan Wangji was just about to nod, to give in and accept this thoughtful birthday gift, when Wei Ying started to walk away.   “Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asked in bewilderment.  Why would he craft the most elaborate plan to get them alone together and then walk away? Wei Ying paused, turning back to him.   “Will you not stay?” Wei Ying gave a slight laugh.  “Only if Lan Zhan wants me to.”  He fidgeted and looked away.  “I know I’m not really relaxing…” “Stay.”  He interrupted forcefully.  “Please.”  Lan Wangji stared intently into his beloved’s eyes, hoping his own beseeching eyes would communicate what his words could not.   “Oh, Lan Zhan.” He nodded in understanding and smiled blissfully, crinkling his eyes at the corners.  “Okay, Wei Ying will stay with you, but you have to rest.  Do you hear me?” he ordered playfully.  “This is a restful birthday retreat, and I want nothing but resting from you.”   Lan Wangji felt his mouth twitch into an answering smile at the sight of stern and protective Wei Ying.  He knew that tomorrow he would have to return to Gusu and give account to the Council.  He knew he probably would not see Wei Ying again until the next time he caused some chaos (or conveniently happened to be there anyway).  But this day, this perfect day, was a birthday gift he would treasure until the time he can lay down his Chief Cultivator title.  Then, maybe, everyday will be like this.

It’s so weird because Lan Wangji was the hardest character for me to, like, get in the mind of while watching MDZS, but my first three fics in this fandom have been from his pov.  Irony.  

If you enjoyed this, please let me know what you thought!

[wexregolden]

Read it on ao3 here <3

Chapter 7/19

THE BOY WHO LOVED Chapter 7

-The Letters Messages From No One-

---

As soon as Marti sat down next to Gio on their window sill, he literally felt all the stress leave his body as he exhaled. It felt like an eternity has passed since Martino entered the school on Monday morning. An eternity... which happened to be only four hours by now. Which means two more to go. Two more hours of having to pay attention, taking notes and just being present. When all he wants to do is to just fall into bed and, well, sleep a bit. Not that anyone would be there to be blamed for his miserable tired state. Well, or if you want to find someone to be blamed: Niccolò. Not that he did anything bad. No, never. The only thing he could be accused of is being so fucking charming and nice and not stopping texting with Marti. The whole Sunday. The whole night long. Till Marti looked at the clock and saw that it was already after midnight and Monday again.  

And well, that´s the reason why he´s now sitting there, at the verge of falling asleep every second whilst his friends next to him are chatting loudly and enthusiastically about something he hasn´t got till now.  

“But have you seen her today? She´s so pretty today,” Luca said with a dreaming look on his face.  

Ah. Silvia. He doesn´t even has to mention her name and Marti already knew who the “pretty girl” was his friend was talking about. It´s no secret. Really, no secret at all. Everyone, really, everyone knew about Luchino´s crush on Silvia by now. Even Silvia herself. Which made the whole situation for Luca even worse.  

Gio, Elia and especially Luca were so deepened in their chat about Silvia and how Luca should hit on her that they don´t really notice Marti being absent and not at all being involved in their discussion.  

So he uses the situation to check his phone, only to see that there was a new message from Nico.  

Nico Bookstagram  

Sorry for occupying you that long last night 😕

I didn´t look at the time as it was so nice chatting with you

As it was so nice chatting with you. Martino´s heart skipped a beat as he read this. Damn, this boy...

Nico Bookstagram  

Really, I would want to rob your good night's rest and beauty sleep from you 😉  

Marti took a moment to process the message he had just got, grinning like an idiot down at his phone. Nico really made him forget everything and everyone around him, his friends, their conversation, the noises of the school corridor, everything. Make him forget time, his inner struggles and having to play a role for everyone around him for a bit. And it felt good, really good. Just him being at ease around Nico or whilst chatting with him about everything and nothing, having fun.

To Nico Bookstagram

Beauty sleep?

Nico Bookstagram

Of course!  

Your good looks must come from somewhere, Marti 😉  

Good genes, yes, but definitely beauty sleep too

To Nico Bookstagram

Oh shut up!

Shut up!, he wrote, yes, but he doesn´t mean it like that. No, not at all. Not to sound narcistic or anything, he´s the last person to be this, but getting complimented actually felt good. Especially if the compliments are coming from the person you like. Really like.  

Nico Bookstagram

Marti Marti, do not become immediately out of place 😉  

I mean it like that, really

You do look good

Okay, now he´s freaking out. Only on the inside of course, not showing anything. Only his hands getting sweaty and the smile that appeared on his lips being an indication that something was happening inside of him right now. Something happening to his heart. That beat a little, well maybe a bit more than little, faster that usual right now. For about a minute, or maybe two, he did nothing than starring at the display of his phone, his mind racing, trying to come up with a fitting reply to Nico´s message. Instantly stopping as his phone beeped again, Nico answering before him.  

Nico Bookstagram  

The perfect condition to impress girls at the first sight, right?

And there it was again. That topic. The one he tried to escape as often as it worked. The one topic he hasn´t talked with Niccolò about so far, which felt good, make him feel like he didn´t have to put his mask on around him. At least not till now. But well, here it was. That topic. Girls, girls, girls, girls.

He prepared himself to play a role around Nico right now too, putting his mask on, about to type a reply that would fit into the heterosexual picture. But once again Nico was faster and sent him another message.

Nico Bookstagram

But well, you don´t need to of course

You get me?

Looking good only for oneself is great too

For anyone else too ofc

Like, anyone

Shit Marti, I´m rambling, I´m sorry  

But you know, it doesn’t have to be a girl, it could be anyone else too, right?

Do you get me?

Reading these messages, Nico rambling, really made him smile again, being relieved. Really relieved. Putting his mask away again, saving the farce for someone else.  

To Nico Bookstagram

Right, it doesn´t have to be a girl

I get you

After he hit sent it suddenly hit him: These messages, the first one especially, are the closest thing to a coming out he´s ever said or wrote.  

It doesn´t have to be a girl.  

Marti couldn´t deny it, really, the thought about coming out to certain people, telling them that he likes guys, freaks him out. He can´t really put the worst-case scenario out of his head. His friends abandoning him, not wanting to be friends with him anymore, his mom kicking him out, literally everyone talking or thinking differently and bad about him.  

But still, writing these seven words to Nico felt good. And he didn´t feel anxious or scared about it and Niccolò´s anwer.  

Nico Bookstagram  

Well then, great that we´ve clarified this, Marti

Anyways, other topic: Have you seen the news of more Harry Potter books getting published?

“You should send her a dick pic,” Elia said.  

Marti´s thoughts get distracted by his friends this time, turning back to them and their conversation.

“The fuck? What are you talking about?” he asked, an asking look on his face.  

“We´re talking about Silvia and Luchi, of course. Seems like you didn´t get anything as you were too occupied with someone else,” Elia answered.  

“Whom are you texting anyway?” Gio asked, looking at him, waiting for an answer.  

“No one,” instantly came out of his mouth.  

Damn it, Marti! Couldn´t you have come up with a better excuse?!

“No one? Oh come on, Marti, you can´t fool me, I´m your best friend!”

“If it´s no one, you can show us your phone, right?” Elia threw in, reaching for Marti´s phone, trying to grab it. But Marti was fast enough to keep it away.

“Come on guys, stop it. It´s no one important””

“No one important? I might be small but I´m not dumb,” Luca butted in this time.  

“Let me guess, this no one is the reason you didn´t want to get coupled from us? At least show us a picture from her,” Gio now said.  

Her, her, her, her, her.

“There´s no one guys and now leave me alone with it!”

“As if Marti, as if,” Elia said, earning a from from Martino as an answer.  

But still, his friend didn´t stop talking about it.  

“I have to go to the toilet,” Marti suddenly said, as he got up and grabbed his bag, nearly running away.

As he arrived at the bathroom, he locked himself in one of the stalls. Breathing in and out. One time. Two times. Before he took his phone out of his pocket, looking at it. Still seeing Nico´s Harry Potter message there, unanswered.  

To Nico Bookstagram

Why am I even wondering that you write me such things, Mr. Harry Potter fanboy number 1?

Nico Bookstagram

Well, I don´t know 😉

And a few moments later he got a notification from Instagram

nicoissurroundedbymuggles just uploaded a new post

He couldn´t help and clicked on it immediately. One of the photos of Nico balancing a book at his head back at their meet up appeared on his screen. Nico smiling brightly at the camera, putting a smile on Marti´s lips.  

nicoissurroundedbymuggles OMG guys did you heard it?!?! New Harry Potter books coming up!!! Who´s as excited as I am? I´m curious to read what you think of it, would be great to talk about it in the comments a bit 😊

Also, thank you @martislibrary for taking this pic, I love it  

martislibrary: No need to thank me, you´re welcome 😀

nicoissurroundedbymuggles: @martislibrary and Marti, what do you think about the new hp novels?

martislibrary: @nicoissurroundedbymuggles do you really want to know that?

nicoissurroundedbymuggles: @martislibrary Maybe not Marti

nicoissurroundedbymuggles: @martislibrary *Marti the Slytherin ofc

He couldn´t help, a laugh escaped him, thinking about their little inside joke. Theirs. Gosh, his heart.  

---

Yayyy, new chapter :D Oh Marti <3 I really hope you like it, as always, would like to hear what you think of it in the comments or my ask box<33

[cuteandtwisted]

Hey Wiss!! I love you and your writing so much and wanted you say that today is my birthday!(I waited a whole year to say this lol) But if its not too much to ask, is there any update of Bfyt? Like a little snippet or when the next update will be? Don't want to rush you but today would be amazing to have a little something from my favorite writer💛💛

(Hi LOVE Happy belated birthday💛. I’m sorry for missing this!! Here’s a ~ 2K BFYT snippet for you

In which Even casually makes Isak squeak 💛)

“So we’ll meet at my place because it’s closer to the commotion, then we’ll walk to Spektrum. We could take the tram but I’m sure there will be some closures and I don’t feel like running into human unicorns. And no, before you even try to suggest it, we are not going to Grønland. I would rather poke my eyes out than go through Grønland right now. Also, Eskild’s group is marching, or I should say dancing, with the first batch, so we can just catch him when they round that weird church. It’s not like we need to follow him the entire time, you know? He just needs me to be there to validate his fairy godmother status and to write “I forced my foster child Isak Valtersen into going to Pride” on an Instagram caption. I just know he’ll do it. He’s been constantly taking photographs of me. I think I should start to feel worried actually. Also, what a weird concept Pride is. Don’t you think the ones who insist on showing pride are those who are most prone to shame? Similarly to those who constantly boast about their possessions because they’re emptiest inside, to those who post the most on social media because they’re the loneliest at heart? Insisting on showing off one’s supposed greatness is a concept I will never-,” Isak pauses his rambling, suddenly aware that his speech has increased in speed and incoherence and that his voice is the only thing filling the sweet midsummer air in the cafe.

Even is sitting across from him, head propped atop his folded arms on the table before him, a wild golden mop of hair covering his face. He isn’t moving and Isak realizes that Even dozed off during his frenzied speech. He’s almost relieved, too embarrassed by how nervous he actually is.

Isak stares for a bit. Even has been all over him lately, talking too much, smiling too much, laughing too much, taking too much. Isak couldn’t do much but look away and hold it in. He hasn’t had a chance to just look in a while–for every time he does, he remembers Even’s ridiculous words from last week– So he looks.

Isak doesn’t really know what to call the feeling that overwhelms him watching Even with his eyes closed and a half-smile curling his lips. Isak doesn’t think he’s ever smiled in a dream. How is it so easy for Even? How does Even look so peaceful sleeping? So at ease, so… pretty.

Time stills enough for little specks of dust to hang suspended in a narrow beam of sunlight filtering through the glass windows. And for a moment, Isak questions the source of light: the sun is hot and unyielding today, but for some reason, a sleeping Even shines brighter.

No!

Isak catches himself mid-nonsense and blinks away the ridiculous thoughts. He sits up straight, kicks Even’s chair ever so slightly, then speaks again.

“Are you sleeping? Really, Even?” Isak scoffs, and his voice is almost shaky. It’s pathetic. He swallows and continues. “You pick logistics debrief to finally sleep? You haven’t let me sleep in days and now you want to sleep?”

Isak is beyond nervous. He’s self-aware enough to know and to admit to himself that he’s nervous. But he tells himself that it’s because of what he’s actually doing, not because Even is sitting across from him. And it’s true. Isak doesn’t plan routes for navigating the Oslo Pride Parade every day. The thought alone is filling him with an extreme urge to flee and lock himself in his room for at least a month. But he can’t. Not this year.

This year he has Eskild to think about and Even to drag to Pride. This year is not about him. Having a mission keeps him focused. He’s going because Eskild emotionally blackmailed him and because Mutta asked him to bring Even without telling him. He’s on a mission. He’ll be fine. He’s fine.

Isak is about to kick the chair again when Even speaks.

“Not sleeping,” he mumbles, his voice groggy but soft. There’s a smile there, too. His whole voice is smiling. Isak tunes him out.

“Uhm, not to be maddening, but last time I checked, closing your eyes and suspending your consciousness is called sleeping, Even.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. My consciousness is all but suspended,” Even chuckles, his face finally turning to blind Isak. His eyes are crinkling and it’s all very nerve-wracking. Isak can’t think.

“Oh, so did your eyes just happen to close themselves while I was relaying some very important information to you or?”

“I closed my eyes because I wanted to hear you, like really hear you,” says Even, his chin awkwardly laying on his folded arms now. His eyes are sparkling with something akin to happiness or euphoria, like simply sitting in a cafe with Isak and listening to him complain about exactly everything is filling him with joy.

“Are you saying my speech is too contrived or are you saying that you need a hearing device?” Isak huffs again, because he can’t really hide his nervousness unless he’s being insufferable.

“I’m saying that I love listening to you speak the most, and that when I close my eyes I feel like your words penetrate me even deeper.”

Isak is grateful that he didn’t decide to take a sip from his coffee because it would probably be all over Even’s hair by now. He chokes on air instead while Even laughs.

“Jesus Christ!” He coughs while Even’s warm laughter fills his bones.

“You have such a dirty mind, Valtersen.”

“Dirty mind?! I am simply appalled by your choice of words because they make absolutely no sense. My words penetrate you deeper? Which books do you even read? I can’t deal with you!”

“I’m just telling you how I feel,” Even replies with no hint of humor or teasing in his voice. He’s smiling but it looks like it’s out of sincerity, not mischief. “I love hearing you talk. I could listen to you all day. It’s just how I feel.”

The earnestness in Even’s voice leaves Isak feeling vulnerable. He knows they’re meaningless words and they almost have a child-like quality to them. It feels like Even is just speaking the thoughts that cross his mind without applying the glossy filter that comes with being a calculating grown person who’s experienced the downsides of speaking too quickly, too recklessly. Even is being reckless, and Isak doesn’t know how to handle him anymore.

He blushes and looks away, his mind scrambling for a rational thought to latch on and a witty comeback to end this dumb conversation.

“Noted,” Isak mutters then rolls his eyes, his hands reaching for the notebook where he drew their itinerary. “Never wake you up when you’re taking a nap, unless I’m ready to listen to you speak nonsense. Noted. I won’t do it again.”

He steals a short glance to check if Even is offended, but he’s still smiling, still hugging the table and smiling.

“Where was I again? Before I woke you from your deep slumber, huh?” Isak continues.

“You were talking about how you don’t understand Pride. And how only people who are ashamed insist on showing that they’re proud,” Even replies in a heartbeat, still smiling, like he’s about to burst with it.

“Uh, okay. So I guess you really were listening, huh,” Isak remarks nervously.

“You penetrate me. I told you. All this philosophy talk gets me.”

“Shut up!” Isak rolls his eyes while Even chuckles, then decides to focus on what he knows best, on the only thing that calms him down: his facts. “Anyway, I wasn’t even really talking philosophy there, just my personal opinion. Or I guess that counts as philosophy, too. But if you’re actually interested in knowing what old scholarship has to say on the matter, Aristotle is very known for his take on Pride. He actually thinks Pride is a virtue unlike most monotheist religious texts. Pride is weirdly defined, but a recurring definition is that pride is what is felt when a person thinks they exhibit greatness, so long as they actually do exhibit greatness. There’s a difference between thinking you’re great and being great, you know. So yeah, Aristotle says that as long as you’re great, it’s okay for you to think that you’re great and to show it off. But I don’t really agree with him. I think you can just be great and-”

Isak pauses. He’s rambling, meandering, blabbering. He’s nervous and he can’t stand it. He looks at Even and finds him staring, just staring so intensely, Isak can’t breathe. He wishes he’d go back to sleeping.

“But yeah, I don’t want to bore you with all these things,” Isak shrugs and goes back to staring at his notebook. “I guess if you want to learn more, you can just go to the library or consult your favorite resource: Wikipedia, as the lame person you are.”   

Even doesn’t react to his unnecessarily mean jabs, so Isak keeps talking. He rambles and he talks, hoping Even will just chime in eventually and tease him again about being annoying, or just do something.

Isak is grateful for his ability to just speak nonsense for days at a time and make it sound like it’s a deliberate stream of consciousness. He’s grateful for that ability because nothing he’s saying is making sense right now. He’s probably mixing up philosophers and references, and the only absent consciousness here is his own.

His mind is too busy trying to fight off the only words that have been playing in his head since last week, the ones Even uttered so shamelessly in front of kollektivet, so easily, the unspeakable ones, the outrageous ones.

Isak refuses to even think them. He wonders if Even regrets uttering them, if he’d like to take them back. Isak probably wouldn’t mind if Even asked. They were quite ridiculous. The least Isak could do was help restore their partnership up to that point and forget Even’s mild slip-up. He could do that for him. He really could.

“Anyway, Pride makes no sense if you really look at it from a socio-economic lens. As in it’s just a huge capitalist holiday disguised as social activism. And all these big corporations and business couldn’t care less that Sigve from East Oslo got bullied in middle school for being gay. They just want your money, and-”

Isak pauses again. He’s about to combust. He really is about to. Is Even smiling because he finds him ridiculous and is enjoying watching him fumble and trip over his own words? Is Even regretting saying those words? He hasn’t said them again. He hasn’t kissed Isak since they “made out” against the kollektiv’s blue door after Even said he’d wait for him. Even has been ecstatic and outrageous all week now, but he hasn’t kissed Isak in six days and 3 hours and 17 minutes and Isak can’t stand it anymore. He just needs to stop feeling so much. He just needs-

“What?!” Isak finally cracks. And he’s breathless and probably flushed from ear to ear. But he can’t just sit here and pretend that everything is fine when Even is looking at him like that. He can’t. He just- “What is it?!”

Even reaches for him with one hand, his head still propped on his other arm. And time stills again until Even’s thumb brushes against Isak’s cheek.

Time stills.

“I love you,” Even says like it’s the most evident thing. And Isak’s mind catches fire. “So much.”

Why is hearing it the second time is even harder than the first? Why are all of Isak’s defenses coming down? Why is he so flustered? Why can’t he move or speak? Why does it feel like getting stabbed in the chest? Why is something so simple so difficult to hear and accept?

It must show on Isak’s face because Even has now left his chair–Isak must have blanked out for a few seconds there; nobody can move that fast– and is cupping his cheeks with both hands while towering over him, the table still separating their bodies.

“So much, I could burst,” Even says solemnly before leaning in and pressing his lips to Isak’s. Right there in the middle of the Kaffebrenneriet right by Kollektivet, like it’s nothing, like this is nothing, like this is a thing they do every hour of every day, kiss in public spaces.

Isak can’t think, can’t breathe, but he kisses back. His body is conditioned to it by now. It’s just a kiss, just lips. But it drains him all the same. His jaw is tilted dramatically at a near 90 degree angle, with his throat exposed and vulnerable, to meet Even’s lips. It’s just a kiss, but it drains and empties him all the same. Isak indulges. Isak takes. He takes all of it.

“You are loved,” Even whispers to him when he pulls back, a giant smile on his face. And Isak can’t help the loud squeak that escapes him when Even leans down again to press his lips to his neck.

–

Isak stomps furiously the entire way back to the kollektiv, livid and angry at Even for pulling such a stunt in public, while Even follows closely behind, laughing and laughing and laughing.

Later that night, when Isak tries to go to sleep while Even works on some abstract project in the living room at an ungodly hour for the fourth night in a row, he finds three new words lining up to haunt and comfort him all the same.

‘You are loved.’

[katieswinforddiaries]

Every Other Weekend: A Matt Murdock One Shot

Summery: The reader was Matt’s girlfriend in law school who was pregnant when he left her for Elektra. Years later while sharing custody of their son both of them are struggling to not admit that they still have feelings for each other.

Author’s Note: So I had made a imagine of this (Which can be found here. http://katieswinforddiaries.tumblr.com/post/181969859888/imagine-having-shared-custody-of-your-children ) and wanted to write this one shot for quite some time now. I am just finally getting around to it. I know I’ve been absent lately. I’ve just been being a hot damn mess moving and starting a new job. Also yes I can utterly see Matt having a son named after his father.  Also this is the raw unedited first draft cause I really did not feel like editing all four pages of this tonight.  Lol So sorry for any typos or if it sucks. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wk6DK3h9lC4 

Rating: T

                     “Daddy!” Matt grinned as he looked up hearing the squeal of delight  as his son ran into the Nelson and Murdock office.

                       “Hey buddy.” Karen told him with a big smile.

                       “Hi Auntie Karen.” Jack giggled.

                       “There’s my favorite nephew.” Foggy said as he walked up. When you spoke Matt could swear his heart skipped a beat.

                       “Hey guys. Hey Matt. Is now not a good time? I can bring him by later.” You offered.

                       “No!” Jack screamed in protest just before Matt felt him rush over and climb up into his lap. You began to scold before Matt cut you off.

                       “Jack Edward Murdock, you do not yell at your mother.” Matt scolded firmly making him look down in shame. “Tell her sorry.”

                       “I’m sorry mommy.” Jack muttered.

                       “It’s okay bubby I forgive you. But you have to remember your manners.” You told him.

                       “And he’s fine (y/n).” Matt promised as he hugged Jack tight. “Besides my best helper is always welcome at the office.” He added before turning his attention to to his son. “Hey buddy. I’ve missed you.”

                       “I missed you too daddy.” Jack told him as he cuddled close.

                       “We’re almost done here. Just waiting for you while we finish up and grab dinner.” Foggy admitted.

                     “Awesome. Thank you guys for helping out so much.” You replied.

                       “Of course. You guys are family.” Foggy promised.

                       “I will come by Sunday night and pick him up.” You told Matt.

                       “Well be ready.” Matt promised already planning on cherishing what little time he got with the two of you.

                        “So… why aren’t you and mommy married?” Jack asked several hours later at dinner out of the blue.

                       “I’m sorry what?” Matt asked nearly doing a spit take at his son’s question.

                       “Well other kids at school their mommies and daddies are married. Why aren’t you and mommy?” He asked.

                       “Because little man you dad is an idiot.” Foggy told him without missing a beat.

                       “Hey now!” Matt exclaimed.

                       “No he has a point Matt. (Y/N) is amazing.” Karen agreed.

                       “Daddy!” Jack whined obviously still waiting for his answer.

                       “Well buddy. Uncle Foggy is sort of right.” Matt admitted with a sigh. “A long time ago your mommy and I loved each other very much, but I made a mistake that hurt her really bad. So now she doesn’t love me the same way anymore.” He explained.

                       “Oh” Jack said. “Did you tell her you were sorry? Because you should always say you’re sorry when you do something bad.”

                       “Sometimes sorry isn’t enough little man.” Foggy admitted. “Now eat your food or I’m going to steal it” He teased making Jack squeal and giggle.

                       “Hey are you right?” Karen asked once Jack was distracted.

                       “I will be he just caught me off guard.” Matt told her not wanting to admit even to his closest friends the obvious feelings he still had for the mother of his child.

                        Over the next several days Matt could not get you off his mind. He had known for a long time that he still had feelings for you, but Jack’s question had made him realize that he had never really made amends for how much he had hurt you leaving you for Elektra. He couldn’t help imagining what your life might be like now if he had never done it. When even going out as Daredevil didn’t help to take his mind off of you he finally gave in and made his way to your apartment. He knew Jack would be in bed and he really needed to talk to you.

                       “Matt… my god what happened to you?” You asked when you opened the door and noticed several bruises and scratches on his face.

                       “Can we talk?” He asked you feeling more and more anxious by the minute.

                       “Yeah. Are you going to answer my question? “ You asked.

                       “No.” He admitted. “Listen I know you probably still hate me for what I did to you all those years ago and that you really just endure me for Jack’s sake…” He began before you cut him off.

                       “Matt you’re rambling. And what are you talking about? If it’s that thing with that girl you dumped me for back in school I saw you after she left you. I think that was payback enough for you.” You chuckled.

                       “No it wasn’t. I hurt you and that wasn’t alright.” He replied.

                       “So you came all this way to say you’re sorry?” You asked.

                       “No. I mean yes, but not just for that. This weekend Jack asked me why we weren’t married and when we tried to explain he asked if I’d apologized and ever since… I can’t stop thinking about us. What life would be like if I hadn’t hurt you.” He admitted. “I guess I just. I… I can’t keep pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. Sure I’ve thought about what it would be like to have you back, but never like this.” He admitted.

                       “You… still have feelings for me?” You asked.

                       “Yeah. I know it’s stupid and you probably hate me but, …” Matt began to say before you cut him up placing a finger to his lips.

                       “Matt Murdock, you oblivious idiot, I’ve loved you since the first day I met you and I never stopped. I just assumed you weren’t interested in being in my life outside of Jack.” You admitted. “I accepted a long time ago that he was the little piece of you I would ever get to keep.”

                       “Then… Would you consider giving me another chance?” He asked.

                       “Of course I would. Just don’t break my heart this time Murdock. I couldn’t handle going through that again.” You told him.

                       “I promise I won’t.” He replied. “ I promise.”

[lefaystrent]

Variants ch.2

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: none

Summary:  Patton was surprised by the mutant robbing the jewelry store one night. It was a “right time, right place” circumstance for Patton in that he happened to be there to see them break into the store. And by break in, he meant that they seeped into shadows and appeared on the other side of the windows without breaking anything at all. 

Chapter Navigation: one

AO3 Link

“Well this isn’t ideal,” Logan muttered to himself before ducking at another gunshot.

Yes he was being shot at. No this was not according to plan.

If he had the option, Logan would simply use his powers to shove the dumpster he hid behind down the alley and at the angry drug dealers currently shooting at him. There was just one problem.

He didn’t have his glasses.

Telekinesis was certainly a useful and powerful ability, when one could see what and where to move things in the first place.

“Wonderful,” Logan growled to himself. “My greatest weakness: the Velma complex. I should reconsider my thoughts on investing in contact lenses no matter how repulsive the idea is. Then again, it is perfectly suitable for one to be squeamish about foreign objects touching their eyeballs, but I digress. Contacts would not be able to be knocked off so easily from one’s face, and with them one would be able to see where to aim a dumpster at. But jinkies, I’ve lost my glasses. And would you hoodlums stop shooting at me! I am trying to rant, please and thank you.”

“Get out here mutant freak!” one of the shooters yelled from the mouth of the alley.

Logan’s eye twitched. “How polite of you.”

With no other options available and Logan’s patience snapped, he chunked the dumpster down the alley anyway. It would leave him exposed for more time than he was comfortable with, but hopefully his pursuers would be distracted long enough for him to run deeper into the alley system and lose them. Also, for lack of a better term, fuck it.

Logan sprinted at full speed, the sound of gunfire blasting into the night once more. Luckily, he rounded a corner without any bullets hitting him. Beyond the huffing of his breath he could hear the pounding of footsteps following behind.

Objectively, the situation was not good. Logan’s heart thrashed so erratically in his chest at the thought that he might just die here. Adrenaline worked overtime to keep him going, but the world had been reduced to a dark blur and his breaths hitched painfully sharp in his throat.

Logan rounded a corner, scrambling against the brick wall he nearly face-planted into. He picked up the pace when he saw that the end of this particular alley led to somewhere lighter, presumably a street. It’d be more out in the open, giving the gun-wielding criminals the advantage, but there was no going back now.

The yells and pounding steps behind him never stopped. The muscles in his legs burned and threatened to cripple him. Logan cursed himself for not practicing cardio more.

As he reached the mouth of the alley, Logan tripped on something, and next his palms were skinning against the harsh surface of concrete to minimize the damage of his fall. On instinct, Logan rolled over onto his back, ready to use his powers on anything that so much as approached him.

But that’s the thing. Nothing happened.

Over the roaring in his ears and his ragged breathing, Logan squinted at the mass of shadows in the alley, unable to make out anything, sight or sound. There were no more yells, no more gun fire.

Any moment now, one of them would jump out to kill him. He couldn’t let his guard down. His body tensed, a live wire ready to spring into action. All of his senses screamed at him that any second now . . .

Any second . . .

Logan cautiously sat up, gaze never straying from the alley. He didn’t dare hope for a second that his pursuers suddenly lost interest and called off the chase. And the longer he sat there, the more he realized the possibility of a surprise attack from them was also unlikely, given their noisy chase. If anything, they would have ran out and shot him dead.

The fact that Logan wasn’t dead right now meant that something must have gotten to them first.

“Hello?” a voice called out from the alley.

Immediately Logan stiffened. His mind buzzed frantically from thought to thought, unable to settle on anything concise. All he could do was wait until something happened.

“Is that you, Logan?” the voice spoke again, coming closer.

The buzzing in his head stopped. That was his name. This person knew his name.

Friend?

Or foe . . .

A figure finally emerged, completely unrecognizable except that his shape was vaguely human. And tall, much too tall-looking from where Logan sat vulnerably on the ground.

He was half a second away from letting his self-preservation win out and throw this person with his powers, but they said carefully, “Hey, it’s me, Patton, remember?” and the world stopped.

“Patton?” Logan blurted.

The jewelry store. The reaper. The bespectacled man who rode in his car, the one with kindness in his eyes that nearly hid the cleverness underneath.

“It’s really me, kiddo,” came Patton’s reassuring reply. “Guess it’s a small world after all.”

Logan barked out a laugh, caught up in both relief and bemusement. He wanted to flop backwards in an exhausted heap, but he had to know. “My pursuers? What about them?”

“The bad guys with the guns? Oh, I gave them a time-out! Firearms are serious business, and they didn’t even have any carrying permits!”

Logan stared at him incredulously. “You took the time to rifle through their pockets to confirm that?”

Patton’s hands flew up to his mouth in a gasp. “Did you just make a pun?”

“What? No, I mean, at least not intentionally.”

“Well shoot, it sure did seem like it.”

Logan really did flop on his back this time. “I just nearly died and you’re partaking in the lowest form of comedy. Unbelievable.”

Patton leaned over him. This close, Logan could discern an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m just glad I managed to cut them off in time.” He held out a hand in offer.

Logan took it and was on his feet quicker than he thought he’d be. Patton steadied him. “Your assistance is appreciated. When you say ‘cut them off’, by that you mean . . .?”

“I uh . . . kinda knocked them out? Don’t worry though! They should be okay after a while. It’s just that I heard the gunfire and came running, and when I saw them chasing someone down I knew I had to act fast.”

“Wait, so you just happened to be in the area?” Logan asked, because surely not . . .

“How else would I have known to come help?” Patton responded, eyes bright with a sincerity that Logan didn’t doubt. While Logan was beside himself processing this, Patton busied himself checking Logan over for injuries. He still had hold of his arms and turned his hands over, palms up. “Logan! Your hands, you’re hurt!”

“Just scratches,” Logan murmured absently.

For days on end, Logan had been tracking down the drug dealers, surveying where they operated, finding them to work out of a shabby motel downtown. And here Patton had just been in the right place at the right time?

Of all the odds . . .

“Patton,” Logan cut him off mid-ramble. Patton trailed off and looked at Logan questioningly, worryingly, his eyes warm in the glow of the street lamp.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he stated.

“Indeed. We need to get out of here. Did you happen to drive here, by chance?”

Logan had parked too close to the motel. He had intended to make a quick getaway after putting a stop to the drug dealers. Now it would be a risk to return to it in the event that the authorities had been alerted and were already there (which was highly likely, with that much gunfire giving them away). Thankfully, Patton had parked some streets down in the opposite direction.

“But what about your car?” Patton asked him as they walked at a brisk pace.

“I’ll have to come back for it at another time, when things have quieted.” Logan only hoped that it wouldn’t be broken into or stolen until then. “In the meantime, I shall find alternative transportation to get around.”

“If you think that’s best . . .” Patton conceded reluctantly.

They were traversing through a neighborhood of apartment buildings and homes now. A couple of them had lights on inside, but most were silent and the only other sign of life the two saw was a passing truck.

“So what happened back there?” Patton asked, filling in the silence. “Are you really okay, Logan?”

“Rest assured, I am not injured.” Logan winced after saying that. Now that the adrenaline was easing off, he could feel a throbbing in his head. “Mostly, at least. I had planned to confront those criminals in the motel room that they were running drug deals out of. What I did not account for was the motel manager being involved. They snuck up behind me, distracting me enough that one of them threw something at my head, knocking my glasses off. I could not locate them before I was forced to . . . before I initiated a tactical retreat.”

“You mean ran away?”

Logan scowled and coughed. “While not completely inaccurate, I believe the way I phrased it has better connotations.”

“It’s okay. People waving around guns can be scary,” Patton said, and the way he smiled reminded Logan that he was walking beside someone who probably had worse experiences than what he had faced tonight. With his cheery disposition and his deplorable love of puns, Logan had almost forgotten that Patton was a veteran.

“Quite,” Logan agreed. Curiosity lingered, imploring him to ask Patton about his service time, but he refrained. It would be intrusive.

Resisting temptation, he automatically went to straighten his tie only to drop his hands. While his current attire was more suitable for crime-fighting, he would rather be in his usual business-casual wear than a hoodie and jeans.

He cleared his throat again. “Though your assistance has been most useful tonight, I would typically have been fine managing on my own, if not for my lack of glasses.”

“Wowzers, that must be tough. I can’t even imagine not being able to see well enough to get around.”

Logan looked at him in deep confusion. “What are you talking about? We’re the same, or even if you are closer to twenty-twenty than I am, we are still in a similar state.”

Patton just stared at him with a ‘huh?’ expression, completely lost. Surely he was joking.

“Patton, you wear corrective lenses the same as I do. Therefore, it should not be all that hard to imagine yourself in my situation.”

It dawned on him slowly, the dots connecting one by one. Patton stopped walking and blinked at nothing, eyes wide. Then in a flurry of over-dramatic gestures, he laughed and talked fast. “Oh right! Completely forgot there for a sec, so used to wearing my glasses. Yep, can’t see a thing without them!”

Logan said nothing, but he couldn’t shake the distinct notion that Patton was lying. It would be an innocuous thing to lie about, so why would he? And yet, it reminded Logan of that night they first met when Patton denied being a mutant. There was something about his mannerisms, a vague thing that Logan loathed himself for not being able to pin down. He worked best with concrete evidence, but he couldn’t deny that Patton struck a familiar cord in him.

After all, when Logan wasn’t out patrolling the city at night, he pretended to be an ordinary citizen as well.

The two vigilantes made it out intact that night. To be sure that the police located the drug dealers left in the alley, Logan phoned in an anonymous tip. Patton gave him a ride home. More than that, he gave him his number.

“It’s good to have friends at your back, and we make a good team. Don’t ya think?” Patton offered with a wink and a smile.

They weren’t friends. Not really. Allies would be a closer term to what they truly were. And in this line of business, even those could be a liability.

Then again, if he learned anything that night, his own shortcomings could leave him at risk. And he’d rather not experience such a blind panic ever again.

Patton’s number found a place in his contact list. Logan told himself that this would be the alternative to contact lenses.

Weeks went by, crime in the city ensued, and Logan and Patton faced it together more often than not. As Patton had said before, they did indeed make a good team. While Logan had a knack for tactics, Patton was startlingly adept at reading people. More than once Logan had watched him disarm people by words alone.

“Do you have powers of persuasion?” Logan asked at one point.

Patton laughed as if he had told a good joke. “No, I’m just a dad.”

It frustrated Logan. Because for one, Patton had no biological children to speak of. For another, Patton’s true power continued to elude Logan, leaving nothing but inklings for him to trail clumsily after. When he had initially begun crime fighting, it had been out of a strong sense of justice and the ability to do something about it. Nowadays, Logan chased after the mystery Patton presented for him. If he paid attention, he’d notice when Patton slipped up.

When the time came, it wasn’t so much that Patton slipped up.

Logan had been grocery shopping when it happened. He perused the fresh produce, almost absently answering his phone.

“Logan!” Patton said before he had a chance to greet him. It had only been one word, but it was hurried and frantic.

The produce immediately lost all his attention. This was more important. “What’s wrong, Patton?”

“Hartview Bridge, possible bombing, too far away to confirm yet. I’m almost there, where are you?”

A . . . terrorist attack? Patton sounded as if he were running, running straight to the potential terrorist attack. There had been a potential terrorist attack and Logan just stood there, staring at zucchini, wondering where he fit into all this.

Still processing, Logan answered mechanically, “I’m at the grocery, the Miller’s Fresh Foods on Second Street.”

“Good, that’s not too far. Hurry, Logan.”

Logan shook his head, brows furrowed. “Why? What can we do? It’s the middle of the day. Surely the proper authorities are already handling it. We would just out ourselves—”

“Oh my God,” Patton gasped, cutting him off. Logan knew that it wasn’t because of what he had been saying. Ice prickled in his stomach.

“Patton? Patton, what happened?”

“It’s collapsed, the bridge, I see it,” he responded, voice thick with emotion. “Parts are still collapsing, they’re falling in—”

A rush of background noise filtered through. Then the line went dead.

Logan abandoned his shopping cart without a second thought and booked it to his car. He didn’t even put on his seat belt. He floored it through traffic. Any cops that would have pulled him over for speeding were already speeding themselves. But closer to the river where the bridge crossed, a wall of traffic halted any more progress. Logan couldn’t see much from here, but other people were getting out of their vehicles or running down the sidewalk, some away and some towards the bridge. Logan jumped out as well.

The sun was shining bright, not a cloud in the sky, mocking in its ideality. There were people everywhere, many of them pulling out their phones to record the chaos. There would be nowhere to hide here, not like he was used to during his nightly patrols.

But Patton was up there, and if he waited any longer the police would section off the entrance in a security perimeter.

Pedestrians either ducked out of his way or were pushed through. Logan didn’t have time for politeness. As he neared the bridge, he could see where vehicles had crashed into each other, some of them toppled, some on fire, creating a mess of mazes and barriers. Up towards the halfway point, the overarching steel beams had collapsed where the bridge caved in, making the structure look as if a giant hand had smashed down through the center.

Logan didn’t realize he had stopped running to take it all in. He’d never seen such chaos and destruction. Smoke filled the air and people ran past him in various states of injured. He swallowed roughly, forcing himself to stay composed.

Muffled yelling broke through to him. Nearby, a damaged car sat. The driver’s side door was bent from some form of impact (a collision with another vehicle?), and the woman behind the window beat frantically to get his attention.

Logan ran over to it, stumbling over debris. He tried the handle, but the door was too damaged.

He cursed. Now that he was here, there was no choice.

“Lean back!” he yelled to her so that she could hear him. She did as told, too scared to do otherwise.

It would be too risky to mess with the glass. Logan held his hands up, focusing on the seam of metal where it should open. A wave of blue-green energy washed over it. He balled his glowing hand into a fist and yanked with all his might, forcing the door to open, almost tearing it from its hinges. The woman screamed, covering her face with her right arm. The left one was held against her as if hurt.

“Can you walk?” Logan asked, willing away the light from his eyes so as not to scare her further. She looked at him, shakily nodding. “Good. Here—”

He helped her stand, and once she had her feet under her, she gave him a watery smile. “Thank you,” she said before fleeing as fast as she could off the bridge.

Logan picked his way through the wreckage, yelling for Patton when he could but becoming quickly distracted each time his help was needed. A group of people were trying to move rubble off an unconscious man. Logan moved it with his powers. A car exploding sent shrapnel flying. Logan sent a wave of force to push someone down before they could be decapitated, and at the same time he caught a child before they fell through the bridge’s broken railing to the river below. One of the steel arches above groaned and snapped with a horrible shudder. Logan threw up his hands, wrapping the broken beam in light. The weight of it proved to be too much, but he managed to slow its heavy descent enough and maneuver it to fall safely.

One thing after the other, Logan saved whoever he could and prevented further injury when possible. Surprisingly, the first responders neither feared nor stopped him. In fact, they grasped that he was there to help and soon were directing him to where he was needed next. At one point, a firefighter hopped onto the bed of a truck, waving his arms to get his attention.

“Over here! Mutant guy, over here!” he yelled, and Logan followed. He had been gravitating towards the middle of the bridge all this time, where a sizeable chunk had caved in and nothing but empty space lingered. For the first time, Logan got an unobscured view of it.

The road ended in an abrupt jagged edge, pieces of it still crumbling off. On the other side of the gap, there was just as much disorder and people trying to survive.

“LOGAN!” a voice screamed, jarring him out of his shock.

He looked to his right where a city bus had plowed through the railing. The length of it was almost entirely over the edge, the back of it held up only by Patton himself. He gripped it underneath and somehow kept it from tipping over. His biceps bulged from the effort. Patton’s feet dug into the ground, leaving behind warped tracks as he was pulled forward minutely.

Patton’s glasses were cracked and a line of blood seeped down his face from a cut on his temple. His eyes were pleading. “I can’t hold it.”

However strong Patton truly was (and it was now apparent that it was supernatural), he couldn’t pull the bus up.

Surging into action, Logan held up his hands. His telekinesis, while strong enough to lift a dumpster, couldn’t lift something as heavy as a bus. Not alone, that is. With his powers and Patton’s superior strength, they managed to pull the bus backwards, inch by painful inch, until all of its wheels sat on a stable surface. The first responders dove in after that, helping people off the bus and escorting them to safety.

Both he and Patton were panting from their combined effort, hands on knees bent over as they tried to catch their breaths.

“Not a mutant, huh?” Logan gasped out.

Patton sent him a tired glare. “Lo . . . shut your ever-flapping gob smacker.”

Logan snorted, but agreed that now wasn’t really the time to have this conversation. Not with people dying and everyone starting to look to them for answers.

“Oh, would ya look at that bird,” Patton commented, and Logan stood up straight to see a helicopter hovering in the near distance. A news helicopter, filming everything including them.

He groaned. “You do realize that we’ll never be able to return to our regular lives now, don’t you?”

Patton pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside carelessly. He didn’t squint after, proving that he never truly needed them. He stood there proudly, hands on hips and back straight.

“It’s a little scary, isn’t it?” he grinned, bumping shoulders with Logan. “But I don’t regret it. How ‘bout you, partner?”

“I regret many things,” Logan deadpanned, making the other laugh.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton clapped him on the back. “Handle things on this side, okay kiddo? They look like they could use some help over there.”

“What do you . . .” Logan began in confusion before Patton performed a running leap over the broken gap, launching himself high into the air before landing safely on the other side.

Logan adjusted his tie, disgruntled.

“Incredible. He calls me ‘kiddo’ and then proceeds to yeet himself over a broken bridge. I am a grown man, you know.”

He turned away to get back to work.

tag list: @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @merlybird500 @mirror2thespirit (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list) 

[therandomfics]

Anniversary: 14

By the time Sonny had arrived at your apartment, you were waiting for him on the side walk with a duffel bag and you had already changed out of your dress and put on much more comfortable, warmer clothes. He stopped the car and hopped out, taking your bag from your hands and opening your car door. The silence was pleasant, not tense, and you felt comfortable as you waited for him to put your bag in the trunk and get back in the car. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your knee. He rubbed the fabric of your pants for a few moments, perhaps absently as it was soft and warm. 

“I’m fine,” you replied quietly. “I just want to leave before Peter gets back.” 

“Say no more,” he replied and put the car into drive, merging back onto the street and leaving your apartment behind. 

His apartment was dark and warm when you arrived, stepping into the pitch black abyss. When the lights finally came on, you removed your jacket and hung it up on the coat rack by the door. 

“I can’t really thank you enough for coming to -” you began, but Sonny cut you off by catching you off guard with a kiss. It was sweet and tasted less like alcohol this time, but it was just as pleasant. He tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled you flush against his chest, letting his hands move from your hair to your shoulders, and then down your back with curiosity. 

When he finally pulled away he tried to hide his smile. “Sorry. I just.. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time and I didn’t get enough earlier.” 

You blushed and looked down, letting your hair fall over your eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I.. like it,” you admitted. What you didn’t want to admit was how long it had been since you’d had physical attention and how badly you wanted him to take you into his room and throw you on the bed - but... you were still married, and this was bad enough. 

It was as if he could read the distress on your face as he placed his hand on your cheek. “Talk to me. What are you feeling right now?” 

You shrugged and pulled away, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” Tired of being alone and being neglected. 

“I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do, Y/N, so if I’m doing too much you have to let me know, okay? I’m crazy about you so it’s really hard for me to stop looking at you and wanted to hold you, but the last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable or to mistreat you,” he explained and stepped back, finding a spot on his couch to sit. 

“You’re perfect, Sonny. Please don’t think that I’m not craving your touch in every single way. It’s just.. I’m still married, you know? And just because he does it, doesn’t mean I should, too. I can’t even tell you how long it’s been since he’s done anything besides kiss me, which I guess is good because I don’t feel like getting another panel done at the doctor just to make sure he isn’t going to kill me with some kind of super disease,” you rambled, sitting in a chair that was adjacent to the couch. “I don’t want to disappoint you, either. I don’t really know what I’m doing anymore.” 

“No pressure, doll. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch, and I won’t kiss you unless you want me to,” he promised, placing his hand over his heart. “Honest to God. I only want what you want.” 

You smiled slightly and sighed. “I really don’t deserve you,” you confessed and glanced over at him. 

“You deserve everything beautiful in the world, because that’s exactly what you are, Y/N.” 

“Hey, what’s this?” you asked as you remembered the envelope you’d put in your hoodie pocket. You held it up and handed it to him, showing him that you hadn’t opened it - yet. He refused to take it, though. 

“Tell you what, why don’t you read it? I’m gonna go make the bed and find a movie for us to watch.” He smiled at you before he stood up and disappeared down the hallway, flipping on his bedroom light and busying himself with tidying up. 

You ran your fingers over the envelope before tearing it open and pulling it out to read. 

Y/N, 

I want you to know a few things, even if you really never want to see me again or if you hate me.. I just want you to know how I feel. 

I’m glad that we met. I’m sorry for your troubles and the circumstances under which we met, but I’m not sorry that I found you. Your husband is an asshole. We both know that he is, but if it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have seen you standing there and I wouldn’t have had the chance to speak to you, and get to know you, and find myself falling for you the way that I am.

You’re beautiful in every way possible, even if you don’t agree. I’m sorry that he’s made you feel so badly about yourself, but I want you to know that when I look at you, I see what’s good in the world, and when I think about you, my heart races and I feel like I might pass out. The world feels different now that you’re in it and I wish we’d met sooner but I cherish the time that we’ve spent together already.

Life can be a mess but I want a mess with you. 

I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes, because you are the one I am meant to be with. 

I don’t think you’re my best friend anymore. I know it. 

All my love, 

Sonny

You folded the letter with tears in your eyes and stood up, walking down the hall towards his room. 

“Sonny,” you said with a sniffle, falling into his arms. He embraced you and said nothing, giving you the chance to free your mind of its thoughts. “You’re my best friend, too, and I’m so sorry that I keep pushing you away I just wanna protect you from the ugliness that I know he’s capable of.” 

He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. “I adore everything about you, doll. Nothing could keep me away from you, you know that right? All that matters is that you’re happy and that you’re safe.” 

“I am happy, and I am safe, and I feel like I’m at home when you’re with me,” you murmured against his chest. Your arms tightened around him, threatening to swallow him whole if you could just get a little closer. It didn’t feel like it was enough to just be near him, you wanted to be apart of him. Admittedly, you realized you had never felt that way with Peter, but that could have been because before Peter, no one had hurt you and caused you to seek refuge. 

“Stay with me tonight, and for as long as you want,” he insisted, resting his chin atop your head. “You’re welcome here anytime and all of the time.” 

“Thank you.” You were appreciative of his help, but still hesitant to go against your vows despite the many times Peter had done the very thing you were trying to avoid. If you stayed, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you’d find yourself sharing more than just feelings with Sonny. To reject his offer would be rude, you figured, so instead you sought to enjoy the heat of his embrace and the unyielding feeling of comfort that he exuded. After a few long minutes of standing there, swaying in his arms, you pulled away and stepped back. “What movie did you pick?” 

He pointed at the TV mounted to the wall with the title screen to Home Alone on the screen. “Too cliche?” he asked and pulled the blankets back on the bed. He slipped out of his shoes and began to undress, losing his dress shirt and tie, loosening his belt and kicking his shoes off. You were enraptured. 

“Nope,” you replied and finally broke your gaze. You climbed into the bed and pulled the blankets up around your chin, trying to avoid looking in his direction. “This is a classic.” 

“Are you scared to look at me?” he asked, hopping from side to side until he had found his balance and slipped on a pair of pajama pants. His shirt was missing and you were fighting the desire to give yourself away to him entirely. 

“No,” you lied, staring at the TV despite the lack of animation on the screen. “I just really want to watch this movie. I love Christmas.” 

He climbed into the bed next to you and pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “You’re a really horrible liar,” he commented and pressed play. 

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing, Sonny. Not everyone should have a poker face that would make Lady Gaga write a part two,” you retorted, but relaxed against his chest. He was perfect in your eyes, and though you knew that everyone had flaws you couldn’t imagine Sonny having nearly as much or as many awful issues as Peter. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes with a soft sigh of relief. 

The next time you opened them, the clock read 2:48AM, and your phone was vibrating excessively from down the hall. 

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