#I only started mlb like last month so yeah this is all I have

[kanadellama]

mlb doodle dump because i don't care at this point and I need to put this all somewhere

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part five} 9.3k idk how don't ask me warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

“I can’t deal with you straight people,” Ryujin muttered between bites of her lunch.

Glaring down at your phone screen, you grit your teeth. “Excuse me?”

She was focused elsewhere, at her desk in the room you used to share. Flipping the page in a textbook, she shoveled chips into her mouth and spared you a glance. “My bad,” she laughed. “You people who like dicks.” She put her eyes back on her pages and you put yours on the bathroom mirror. In your own room for the first time in two weeks, you were doing your makeup, preparing yourself to go to the field. There was an actual game today, the boys were playing the Bulls, the team they lost the World Series to last season. “You and Aurora both,” Ryujin shook her head. “Stop being stupid.”

With the flick of your mascara wand you scoffed. “What happened with Aurora?”

“She thought Yunho got her pregnant,” Ryujin roared, leaning toward her phone at the same time as you, your wide eyes making her laugh. “I’m serious! And that’ll be you if you don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”

Releasing a breath you glued your eyes back on the mirror. Sitting on the cold counter with your makeup a mess all around you, you swapped mascara for brow gel and fixed them up. “I was drunk the first time, I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” you mumbled. “And, now, it’s like he’s trying to make it happen.”

Ryujin curled her lip. “Gross,” she whispered. “You’ve only been together like, what, two weeks, right?”

“Yeah, but,” you started, voice trailing off as you finished your brows. Snapping the tube shut, you twisted it vigorously, looking down at her. “If you count the month before this one, and then the few months three years ago, and then the few months a few years before that…”

“It doesn’t count,” she said, scanning her book, or trying to. “Your relationship wasn’t official, you’ve been together two weeks and the man is trying to purposely impregnate you. Why?” When she lifted her eyes, you pouted. “Isla,” she said, twisting in her chair to face her camera.

Voice quiet, you shrugged. “I told him.”

“About?”

“Vernon,” you whispered, looking down at your hands in your lap fiddling with the tube of clear brow gel. “He asked me that night, when I first called you. I told you what happened at dinner and after, right?” She nodded, gaze laser focused. “He asked me one more time, when I wasn’t drinking, and I was honest with him, I told him I thought I loved him.”

“Thought,” she sneered. “Oh god, Isla, what the fuck am I going to do with you?”

Tossing your hands out to the side the tube of gel went flying across the bathroom tile. “What was I supposed to say to him? That I still do? That having to watch Vernon play everyday makes it worse, makes it harder to ignore?”

Ryujin blinked. “Yes!”

“How!”

She pushed her bangs from her forehead and picked up her phone, sitting backward in her chair. “You be honest with him. It’s not fair for you to have feelings for someone else while you’re dating him, it doesn’t matter who he is. I guarantee you he’ll have another girlfriend in a few weeks if you break things off with him.”

“Ouch,” you mumbled, and she shot you a look. “I’m just saying!” Twirling on the counter you jumped off of it, taking yourself into your room to change. “It’s still Mingyu, Rio. He was the first boy to ever treat me like I wasn’t someone’s little sister.” Propping the phone up against the television, you dropped to your knees to throw open one of your suitcases.

“What if that’s why he wants you though?” Ryujin questioned, the words sending a chill over your skin.

“Don’t even say that,” you said, pulling out different tanks and crop tops from the piles in your luggage. “That would suck ass.”

“Just makes me think,” she continued, “Like, he’s always chasing you when you’re around, right? What did he do when you weren’t?” He serial dated other girls and broke things off with them before things went too far, a fact you both knew. “Exactly.”

“But, he’s in it when I’m here,” you said, attempting any counteraction to her words that didn’t make you feel fantastic. Standing up you stripped out of your sleep clothes and situated your outfit for the day. Ryujin disappeared from the screen until you were finished. “Like, really in it.”

“Yeah, and he’s still in you right now,” she said.

“Stop!” you whined, buttoning your baggy jeans.

“Isla,” Ryujin spoke with caution, appearing on the screen as you snatched the phone up. “You want Vernon. You always have. Before you even knew it, you wanted him.”

“He doesn’t want me,” you said quietly, a frown pulling at your glossed lips.

“Because he’s a good guy,” she said. “He’s not going to put himself between you and Mingyu, he’s gonna let you do what you want to do, and not for nothing, you hurt him pretty bad.”

“I know, you don’t have to keep saying it,” you whispered.

Ryujin took a deep breath, pressing her lips together. “I think whatever you did to him before he left is the reason he got called up.”

As much as you wanted to laugh, the thought of you and Vernon in the Nasara locker room together shoved a knife into your gut. “He did it himself,” you said. “They were planning it the whole time, DK told me.”

She nodded, a tiny smile on her lips. “Sure.” 

“He hasn’t tried to talk to me since that night,” you said, slipping into your shoes.

“Have you tried to talk to him since that night?” she asked.

The look you gave her made her laugh. “I can only… sit and watch him play. He won’t talk to me if I try, he basically told me to leave him alone anyways. Besides… if I try, it’s too scary.” Just the thought of walking up to him, even to say hi, it filled you with nerves. “So, I sit in the stands like I’m in high school and watch him play baseball while my boyfriend thinks I’m watching him.”

“I’m gonna need you to repeat that one to yourself again and again until it clicks, Jagi,” she said. Sitting forward, she messed with things on her desk and put the phone down, trying to get back into her work. “Try to enjoy the game, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, starting for the door.

“And, maybe,” she started, grabbing the phone one last time, “Maybe don’t go out and drink tonight? Spend time with your brother? Don’t let Mingyu take you anywhere.”

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping out into the hall after slinging your bag onto your elbow. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” she smiled. Then, right as you were both about to hang up, she shouted, “Condoms! Use them!” And you both hit the red button in fits of giggles.

People packed the field in thousands. For the first game of the spring training season, the Lions were against the very team who knocked them out of the playoffs, the two teams coming together for the first time since. Fueling your variety of nerves, the rivals against one another, seeing Vernon in the flesh, dealing with Mingyu, all those aside, the very thing eating you alive is the fact that Vernon is the only new player on the team. Brand new to the Lions, the big leagues, the MLB, a lot of pressure sat on this game, on him, even if all the eyes will be on the guys that lost it all.

Along the ride to the stadium you swiped in and out of your messages thread with him. The ‘v<3’ taunted you. Through the screen, messages from months ago, they kept you connected, the force or something, whatever it was they talked about in those Star Wars movies he liked to watch. He was anxious. He usually is before a game. No doubt this one would be worse than all others that have come before it.

Thumbs locked over the keyboard, the grey of his message sent in December staring at you, you sucked in a quick breath and held it as you typed. You typed fast, you wanted to close your eyes. Clenching your jaw you gulped and tapped the arrow, sending the message to him, letting the ‘remember to breathe’ get lost in the back of your worries as you stepped onto the concourse of the stadium buzzing with life. Different versions of Lions jerseys filled the space, raiding concessions, gathering water, buying more merchandise, especially the special edition spring training t-shirts. 

On your way through the crowds, thankfully with little people spotting you, at least a hundred Lee Dokyeom jerseys caught your eye, the big red number 38 below his name making you smile. It’d been his number since he started the sport, that same number belonged to your dad. DK swore he’d hold onto it forever, he was lucky when the Lions let him have it after the trade, 38 belonged to one of their veteran players who still came back regularly to visit the team. Your brother has met him before, the tension over the number being taken dissipated within seconds of them shaking hands, the man with greying hair letting the world know he was honored to have such a phenomenal, humble player take over his legacy.

Sincere, kind words your father wouldn’t even spout about his own son.

You wanted to hug every single person in the stadium wearing it.

Where there were red, exciting Lions jerseys, there were grey and blue striped Bulls jerseys, the colors themselves drab and dreadful. Ugliest blue in the league. Unfortunate that both teams were legends in the league, the turnout was a solid fifty fifty. To make matters worse, Bulls fans were assholes, and not in the cool way. Disrespectful, foul-mouthed, and trashy.

The man with the sunglasses and beer belly poking out of his Mark Lee jersey shouting, “Dirty drunk!,” as you passed by him and his family, who you assumed was his wife and two daughters, he proved your point. Trained to keep outside comments out, you did what you did best, held up a middle finger without turning around or giving him the time of day. He turned little heads, and the ones he did were of Lions fans who caught wind of you and were quick to come to your defense. His senseless grumbles of, “The team slut,” and, “Gold digger,” were lost on you.

You hoped.

Rounding more lines and exciting chatter, a young girl with big blue eyes grabbed you by the wrist, stopping your brisk walk toward the first base line. She had to have been about twelve or thirteen, the top of her head came up to your shoulder, her frizzy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Smiling, flashing her pink braces, she took a shaky breath.

“It is you,” she breathed, glancing to her left like she was looking for someone. “Moon Isla, right?” Her smile grew wider when you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said. Taking her in, a whopping four feet and eight inches tall, you smiled with her. 

“I knew it,” she nearly whispered, whipping her head side to side. “Mom?” she called out, waving frantically to a woman in a Lions jersey and jean shorts. The woman, just as tall as you, hurried to her side, glancing between you and her daughter. “It is her, I told you.”

“Oh my,” the woman sighed, giving you a once over. For a moment your stomach went sour, but then she opened her mouth. “She adores you,” she said, wrapping an arm around her daughter's shoulder. “DK is her favorite player. He was her dad’s favorite, he’s deployed right now,” the two shared a look, “We plan to come to as many games as we can, for him.”

“That’s amazing,” you said, folding your hands over your front. “What are your names?”

“Diana,” the girl was quick to call out, clasping her hands together with a bounce of her knees.

Chuckling, the woman extended a hand. “Lucia,” she said, shaking your hand gently. “She really does adore you, she’s always showing me what you wear when you post, she tries to make whatever coffee you share, the makeup you use…”

“Mom,” Diana said from behind her teeth, her eyes flickering at you.

Lucia tipped her head backward with a click of her tongue. “You inspire her. You and your brother, you’re both positive influences, I hope you know that.” Now your stomach flipped. It came out of her so easily, the lie, the words she seemed to believe. “Would you mind if she took a photo with you?”

Swallowing hard, you shook your head and forced a smile on your face. “Not at all, sure, let’s do it,” you half laughed, taking an arm around Diana’s back, the girl trying to stretch hers around your shoulder. 

You inspire her.

Positive influence.

Stuck on the things she said, Lucia, the mom of this young girl, Diana, only thirteen years old confirmed by the Instagram bio on her profile that popped up when she typed in her username for you. Sharing more with her, or rather, letting her talk to you, about her life, about school, about her friend drama, you did your best to give her advice you’ve heard from Ryujin and tapped the Follow button, positively making this little girl's day.

This thirteen year old who followed you, who was influenced by you and what you posted. Everything you’ve posted since you were her age flashed through your mind like a nightmare of a slideshow you were forced to watch, one you couldn’t stop. The amount of drunk stories you’ve posted, the language you used online, some of the outfits you’ve chosen to wear since that very young age because who cared, certainly not your mother or your father. Back at Nasara, the numerous times you posted videos of you and Ryujin dancing at the ATZ house before you swallowed each other's tongues on Instagram live. Many posts on your feed weren’t the greatest either. Grouped together with selfies and photo dumps were many questionable photos.

This girl had seen most of it, if not all of it.

“Keep being you,” Lucia said to you, laying a hand on your shoulder after her daughter squealed at her phone and tapped away. “Thank you.”

“Course.” Your voice was trapped in your throat. “Thank you. Enjoy the game.” With another smile she took her daughter in her arms and started to usher her away, the girl's nose lost in her phone. “Wait, Lucia,” you called out just as she turned around. Rushing to her side, Diana looking up at you with stars in her eyes, you asked, “Where are you sitting?”

“Oh, we’re up in the four hundreds,” she said. “All of these games are like sold out, it happened so fast.” 

Glancing from Diana to Lucia, you said, “Go to section one-oh-eight.” Lucia’s brows furrowed, Diana's eyes shot open wide. “I’m gonna make a phone call, go there, tell them your names and that DK only eats yellow starburst before every game. They’ll put you in the first row.”

“Oh my god,” Lucia gasped, throwing her arms around your back.

“He does?” Diana’s face screwed up as she watched you two.

“Thank you, thank you,” Lucia whispered, her hug easing a few cracks within you from somewhere you ignored. “It’s been so hard, I fought to get these tickets, oh my god, thank you, Isla.”

When she pulled away she placed a hand to your cheek, then the two were off and you pulled out your phone to do as you promised. Giving a call to one of your brother's security members, the one who monitored from the stands behind home plate, you let him know of Lucia and Diana’s arrival, leaving the rest up to him. The two would have a perfect view of DK on the mound from those seats.

Before slipping your phone back into your pocket you glanced at your messages.

Unread.

Maybe even unopened.

Possibly deleted.

At least you weren’t blocked.

Down on the field the people were equally as lively as the crowds filling the stands. News cameras, photographers, reporters, tons of familiar yet never before seen people rushing about the green grass and the dirt trying to get a moment with any of the players. Music played throughout the stadium, remixes of pop songs old and new keeping the good vibes in check.

Weaving through men in suits and women in high heels, hoping to avoid any and all interaction with every single one of them, you finally reached the dugout and ducked into it, flying down the stairs. 

“Moonie,” Woozi sang. Adjusting the buttons on his jersey, he held up a hand for you to slap.

“Hey,” you breathed, glancing around, finding his girlfriend with Joshua and Seungkwan. The three were talking, looking out onto the field at the massive amounts of people waiting for them. “Oh, good, thought I’d be the only girlfriend here.”

Woozi raised a brow, beginning to strap on his gear. “Half of our starting line is up on the other side of the field, with their wives,” he propped a leg up on the bench to fasten the gear around his shins. “Your boyfriend included.”

“Great,” you said, crossing your arms. Poking out your bottom lip you bobbed your head and looked out onto the field. 

Woozi laughed within a breath, switching his legs around. “You not gonna go find him?”

“Nah,” you said way too fast.

When he had both feet on the ground he reached for an arm guard and faced you entirely. “Why not?”

“Because,” you shrugged. Your brother's laugh rang from the opposite end of the dugout, your ears perking up at the sound of the contagious song. “I’m gonna go find DK,” you mumbled.

“Moonie,” Woozi stopped you before you wandered too far. “Everything okay?”

A vague question that deserved a vague answer. Having known Woozi for years, one of your brother's closest friends, anything said to him would go straight back to DK, even if you asked him not to say anything. Jihoon was Big Brother 2.0 in a sense, and though you were grateful for the dual lookout over you, he was DK’s secret agent.

“I’m fine,” you said, apparently unconvincingly with how his brows shifted. “I promise.”

Strapping the rest of his gear on, he walked in front of you, a tight smile on his lips. “I’ve known you since you were sixteen,” he said with a nod of his head, “You can’t lie.” Folding your arms over your chest, you clenched your jaw and took a breath. “Least not to me, you should know that,” he laughed. Tilting his head, the wispy strands of his black hair dancing over his forehead, he pursed his lips before he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered, shaking your head once. Tightening your fingers on your biceps he didn’t let it go unnoticed. “I’m fine, it’s all fine.”

Giving you a once over, releasing a sigh, he nodded his acceptance. “Okay. You know if you need anything, I”m here. You don’t just have Seokmin to rely on, okay?”

You answered him with a quick nod and the smallest smile, leaving him to finish preparing for the game before he joined his curvy girlfriend and his friends admiring the field. Taking yourself through the dugout, arms still tight over your chest, you breeze past the bench a level higher and closer to the field where several players sat in their jerseys, so uniform, so clean. Heads of wavy hair, mostly short now that the season was just starting, sat in a line, kicked back on the finished wood with their hats in their laps. By September their hair would be flowing, unmanageable curls, the baseball flow.

At the end of the bench, sat up straight, his legs stretched out in front of him, was your favorite head of curls. Loose brown waves that’d grow tighter as the months passed now that he promised off his haircut. Behind him, down on your level, stood your brother grinning a mile wide as he spoke with a man in all black. To talk to your brother meant you’d have to place yourself directly behind Vernon and the soft smile he wore while he listened to his teammates talk.

“Isla!”

Tearing your eyes away from the boy a foot or so above where you walked, you shot a wide eyed look at your brother. So much for trying to go into this incognito. Glancing up at Vernon, he didn’t look at you, but his smile vanished.

“Hey, Deeks,” you spoke quietly, trying to keep your conversation between you and your brother.

“I didn’t think you’d come down here,” he said, waving goodbye to the man he previously spoke with.

“I’m not here with anybody, so…”

“Right,” DK sighed, then caught himself, throwing up his hands, “Wait, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You smiled and shrugged, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” you whispered, sneaking a glance to your right. He hadn’t moved.

“I’m telling you, put Ryujin on a flight.” Stepping closer, he laid a hand on your shoulder. “Or, I’ll have someone book it. I’m so glad you’re talking to her again.”

Your fingertips pressed into your biceps again. “She’s got… school,” you muttered.

DK curled his lip. “She’s got life to live,” he said, and you smiled. “I’ve heard you talk about her before. Get her on a plane, Jagi.” Adjusting the cap on his head, he returned the smile and squeezed your shoulder. Just as he was about to walk away, jog up the stairs, and leave you for work, you latched onto his hand and pulled him closer to you. From your hands to your eyes his wide gaze traveled. “You… okay.” His quick acceptance and attention made you laugh.

“What are your plans later?”

DK opened his mouth and closed it twice, looking all over you for the butt of the joke. “Me?” He shook his head. “Mine?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

He glanced over your shoulder toward Woozi and his friends. “Uh, we’re going to go down Festa Street, there’s a… place that does Throwback Thursdays, we wanted to check it out.”

“Can I come with you?”

Holding his breath, he waited a second for a rebuttal. “Of course,” he sighed, giving your hand a squeeze. “I know I shouldn’t, uh, question why, but… You really want to come hang out with me and my friends?” 

The thought of doing anything else nauseated you.

“I do,” you said, and it deepened his smile. Like Woozi, that thing flashed in his eyes. He knew why you were asking. There was another question lingering closeby, a name hidden behind his teeth, one that forced you to mumble, “No.” He left it alone.

The name came bouncing down the dugout stairs anyhow, Hoshi and Minghao behind him with their wives on their hips, the girls dressed like they were worth millions of dollars. 

“There she is,” Mingyu called out, his arms spread open. Throwing them around you your hand fell out of DK’s grip, your brother taking a step backward. Pressing kisses to your cheek, Mingyu rocked you side to side. “Knew you wouldn’t miss my first game.” Grabbing onto his arms, you tried to put some space between you, maneuvering your head around to say hi to the other four.

DK had his eyes glued to Mingyu, a polite smile on his lips barely reaching his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said to you, somehow avoiding the way you begged him with your eyes to get you out of this. 

You knew what he’d say, he could do so without actually saying it. You did this yourself. In the nicest, most DK way possible, he’d tell you that you did this yourself.

“What?” Mingyu sighed, pulling away from you, turning you by your shoulders to face him. His bright smile faded, and DK disappeared up the stairs. “What’s he mean tonight?”

Placing your hands over his, you said, “I’m gonna go out with him and his friends.”

“Tonight?” he asked, tone growing snarky.

“Yes.”

Throwing his eyes around him for a moment, he huffed a laugh and narrowed his gaze. “It’s the night of our first game, we’re celebrating, you don’t wanna come with me? Hoshi and Hao are ready to buy out Cheers.”

They’d fallen in love with that bar. Head over heels, all four of them. Other players would come and go each night, if you could remember, but Mingyu, Hoshi, Minghao… That became their spot. Over these last two weeks Cheers had started promoting their appearance, using their names to draw a crowd which packed the place more than it should be.

“I know,” you said, still aiming to speak above a whisper. “And, it sounds like so much fun, I always have fun there with you guys, but I haven’t seen DK in, like, two weeks.”

“He’s your brother, you can see him anytime you want,” he grumbled, brows falling over his eyes. Just as expected.

Pulling his hands off of you, you cradled them. “You steal me away,” you attempted a joke. He didn’t find it funny. “One night with DK. Please?”

A sigh fell from him as he tipped his chin back. “Better find you in my room when you come back.”

A booming voice sounded over the speakers, filling the entire stadium with cheers and shouts as the sportscaster announced the starting lineups for each team. DK had his name called first and chills rolled down your spine. Every person in the place with a viable voice made some sort of noise. You couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face.

That would never get old.

Mingyu squished your cheeks together and pulled you in for a kiss. “Are you behind home?”

“No,” you said, and he frowned. “I gave my tickets to a mom and a daughter I met on the way down here. They’re huge DK fans, and I think life hasn’t been nice to them recently. Think I’ll go to the suite with Daya and Halle.”

A grin broke onto his lips. “Perfect,” he whispered, kissing you once more before he let you go to follow the girls out of the dugout, onto the field, and up into the stands.

A drink sat on the table in front of you, the melted ice leaving a puddle in its wake as you took the straw between your lips. Seated in a booth against a wall, DK sat beside you, leaning over the glossed chestnut wood to talk to Woozi at the end of the table on your other side. His girlfriend Melody sat across from you, their hands intertwined on top of the table. Her long, sleek black hair fell down her back over her denim jacket with the number 22 patched onto the front pocket. A lot of the girls had niche clothes like this, their boy's numbers or their names stitched or plastered onto it somehow. 

You stuck to the normal merch, cutting it with the help of one of your stylists back home, having her stitch the pieces together to create something that seemed original. The numbers of your brother or your boyfriend never made it onto the pieces, but you did own several DK jerseys, snatching up every version created since he played for the Cyclones. 

Once upon a time you dreamed of wearing a boyfriend's number like the other girls. Ever since you were a teenager, seeing Jihyo wear Jun’s number and his name, small businesses creating and gifting her original pieces with their family name on it, commemorating Jun and his legacy, you wanted it too. 

But, not in the WAG way.

Never in the WAG way.

Sitting here at the table, staring at the red 22 and their hands together, you weren’t really sure in what way you meant. Lifting your chin, meeting her dark eyes, you leaned forward onto your elbows and asked, “Melody, what do you do?” The conversation amongst the guys silenced. This girl was fairly new. Woozi dated here and there throughout your years of knowing him, but since your years at Nasara, Melody had been somewhat of a secret. DK told you in confidence one night on his living room couch, the two of you buried in big blankets watching movies, Woozi wanted to marry her.

Three years together, having only shown her face to the public in the last few months, they were in it for the long haul. This season will be a test, DK told you. Melody, a quieter personality, she wasn’t used to attention like this in the slightest. If they made it through the summer he was going to ask her to be his wife.

“I’m a casting director,” she said with a smile. Her porcelain skin complimented her darker features beautifully. She glanced at Woozi with a shy shrug. “Well, aspiring, I guess.”

He drug his thumb over the back of her hand and nodded. “And you’re doing a great job,” he said to her. 

Looking back at you, blush evident on her cheeks, she said, “Right now I’m the assistant to a casting director of a… pretty big company,” she chose her words carefully, darting her eyes between you and DK who listened to her talk with a small smile. There were things she couldn’t reveal, you caught on quick, but your brother definitely knew the hidden facts. “We’re gearing up to start a project real soon, so this is like a vacation for me.”

Tilting your head, you studied her, sharing a look with the pretty girl where she told you exactly what you wanted to find out. Whipping your head around, wide eyed as you looked at your brother, he laughed and slapped a hand to your shoulder.

“Yes,” he laughed through his words. “Exactly what you’re thinking, yes.” Facing the couple, he said, “She doesn’t keep up with our mom so much right now-”

“As if you do,” you sneered, cutting him off.

DK shot you a look. “I do when my friends start to work for her.”

Woozi and Melody smiled at one another, letting you siblings bicker in peace.

“And the last time you called her? Was when?”

DK rolled his eyes. “Whatever, she can call me too, yanno.”

There was a subtle shift in energy, one you both felt and ignored, but acknowledged. The, the phone works both ways, argument.

You faced Melody who waited with patience. “That’s so cool,” you said, sipping your drink. “Do you love it? Your job?”

“I do,” she said. Jihoon looked over her with pride, a sort of proudness for his girlfriend, his successful, hardworking girlfriend who had a name for herself elsewhere instead of just being someone's girlfriend. Some baseball players girlfriend. “Took me years to get here. I’m still not where I want to be, but I’m willing to pay my dues. Any experience is good experience, and I want it all.”

DK glanced at you, one you didn’t return.

“How do you… How do you balance… this?” Gesturing toward their hands, you held DK in your peripheral praying to a god you weren’t sure you believed in that he would keep his mouth shut. 

The couple shared something between them, their grip on one another tightening.

“Patience,” Melody said.

“Understanding,” Woozi smiled, making her smile.

“Communication,” Melody whispered.

Your cheeks warmed, their love radiated louder the longer they stared at each other. 

“Some days it’s a lot of work,” Woozi said, looking at you, and you wondered if he could read your mind. “When you both want it, it’s worth it.”

“There’s definitely hard days, weeks even, but- Oh, trust,” she said, looking amongst you all, “Forgot to add that in there, too. That one’s huge. When he gets on the road and I’m at home stuck in my office, or if I’m on trips and he’s in the middle of the off season…”

The idea of your parents popped into your mind while she spoke. Your mother, home and glued to her books or her editor or her publishing company, your father, on the road, out and about with his team and other women. Scandals were endless, your father on the front page with a girl that wasn’t your mother on his hip each time he played a series in another part of the country. It wasn’t all his fault though, your mother’s editor spent a lot of time at your house, spending time with you and DK barely old enough to realize what was going on. He’d spend nights there, he’d cook for you, he’d take you and your brother in the pool if your mother was stuck behind one of her screens.

Now that your father was retired and your mothers career was set in legendary status, the two were inseparable, as if nothing had ever happened, leaving you and DK to pick up the brunt of the messes they’ve made. Every now and again the media caught you with questions regarding their past, of whether or not they were going to stay married, if they worked through their problems, if you and DK shared a father. It was all a mess, and as long as you live you’ll never forgive them for leaving you and DK to pick up the pieces. Neither of them addressed the questions, nor the way their children were harassed by the public regarding their relationship and their past.

It’s why you took up the surname Moon, just to fuck with them. Questions of why, something you’ll never entertain.

With Woozi and Melody at this table, talking to each other with such care, such understanding, it warmed your heart. It reminded you that real, genuine love existed. 

You peeked over at a table not far from yours. Seungkwan and Joshua sat with a few bench players, but across from the blonde, leaning over the table with a smile on his face was Vernon. He made player of the game, the Lions social media blew his face up as soon as the game was over, and all throughout each inning they posted his highlights. The game had been crazy, like he’d been a part of the team all along, his chemistry mixing right in with everyone else's.

He deserved the praise, the attention, even though you knew he wouldn’t accept it, even if it looked like he was. Today had been enough to fuel someone's ego for life, set a standard for them for the years to come, but not Vernon. If it had been anyone else, like it had been in the past, you’d never hear the end of it, and come to think of it, you don’t.

His follower count grew in record time. The Lions fans welcomed him in with loving arms. Sure enough, maybe even by tomorrow, the stands would be full of jerseys with his name on it.

DK slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Go talk to him,” he whispered, and you shivered.

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed and looked down at the table. Grabbing your drink, you sucked it down faster, your brother watching.

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

You nearly choked on the liquor going down your throat. “He could ignore me, and embarrass me in front of your friends.”

DK glanced at that table. “Kwan and Shua are your friends too, just so you know.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, sliding the glass over the table. “I’m gonna go to the bar, does anybody want anything?”

“We’re good,” Woozi said, exchanging glances with Melody. Your brother pressed his lips together as you stood up, smoothing your hands over your jeans.

“Anything?” you asked, tone short.

He smiled. “No thanks,” he said with a head shake. “Come back, okay?”

Stepping away, you nodded at him without verbally expressing anything. Seungkwan looked up as you passed by their table. He glanced at DK and slid out of his seat, hurrying over for your brother, jumping into the spot you left vacant.

Pulling your phone from your pocket to distract yourself as you weaved through the people crowding the tight space, a groan leaked from your lips without you even knowing. Your screen was lit up with several notifications, none of which you wanted.

[thirteen<3]: I miss you already

[thirteen<3]: Daya and Hoshi keep buying rounds of tequila shots, do I keep going or are you coming here?

[thirteen<3]: Damn I don’t get to see you and you won’t answer me either

[thirteen<3]: what did I do to deserve this???

[thirteen<3]: Kidding btw, I just miss you.

There were several stories posted from the game today, Vernon’s name in nearly every headline taunting you. Scrolling through a couple as you hopped onto a barstool, you screenshotted the ones that threatened to make you smile. Ones you wanted to save. Ones you wanted to send to him even though he’d probably already seen them.

[thirteen<3]: You read my messages, I know your there

Taking a deep breath, you ordered a cocktail from the woman behind the bar and typed away.

[you:] I’m here. Are you having fun?

[thirteen<3]: Would be if you were here

[thirteen<3]: Daya keeps requesting awful songs

[you]: Where’s Hoshi?

Thanking the woman as she placed the glass in front of you with a smile, you brought the straw to your lips and let the sweetness coat your tongue.

[thirteen<3]: He’s here somewhere, i dont know

[thirteen<3]: He doesnt like to dance

[you]: Who are you dancing with

[thirteen<3]: Daya!!

You pushed a laugh through your nose, drinking from your straw even faster. Bubbles appeared and disappeared several times, and then a photo popped up. In the middle of a crowded dance floor, the one in Cheers, Mingyu held the phone up over his head giving you a near birds eye view of just how close he and Daya were on the dance floor together. She smiled up at the camera, her eyes closed, her white teeth shining. With both hands she flipped the bird while Mingyu pulled his infamous lip curl, one eye closed with a peace sign.

Unsure whether or not she was stupid, or just didn’t care what she was doing, you gave the photo a heart, then locked your phone and shoved it back into your pocket. 

“Another?” the woman asked, appearing in front of you with her cute customer service smile. Nodding, you pushed your glass closer to her.

“Please,” you mumbled.

He could dance with Daya, that was fine. They could unknowingly flirt with one another, sure. If Daya was doing what you thought she was doing, something would happen tonight, while you weren’t there.

It all clicked at once.

“You Isla?” a man asked from behind you, placing himself at your side. Giving him a look, tanned skin and a Lions hat, you nodded. “I thought so, you’re DK’s sister, right?”

“It is her?” Another voice made itself known to your left, wedging between the barstools to lean against the bar. Both men reeked of booze, their words stumbling together as they spoke. “Shit, I didn’t think we’d ever find you.”

“You were looking for me?” you questioned, thanking the bartender with a smile as she brought you another drink. Taking it from the bar quickly you placed your hand over the top and the straw between your fingers. 

The man to your right laughed. “Not looking, but like, we thought we wouldn’t run into you, at least alone.”

You lowered your brows, willing away your own intoxication. “Alone?”

“Without Mingyu,” the man on your left blurted out.

Looking between the two of them, the way they learned on the bar, the way they stared at you, you made a face. “My brother is here, so is half of his team, I’m not alone.”

The one in the hat glanced around you obnoxiously with a smirk. “You look pretty alone to me.”

“What do you want?” You grit your teeth, and he bit his lip. 

“Just wanna talk to you,” he said, sharing a look with his friend whose laugh chilled your spine. “Can we buy you a drink? Not much you don’t like, want us to surprise you?”

Usually, in situations like this one, you could handle yourself, but the vibe these two gave off, it was one you did not like. You brought your straw to your lips and shook your head. “I’m good. Thanks.” 

The one in the hat groaned, tapping your arm with his elbow. He was clearly the leader of this operation. “Come on, just one, we want to. We’re big fans, we don’t want anything weird, I promise.” 

“Promise,” his friend to your left reiterated, attempting a reassuring nod of his head. “We just wanna show our appreciation.”

You raised a brow. “For?” He gestured to you, all of you, head to toe, then added the rest of the team quickly. “Okay,” you said, sighing harshly. “One drink.”

One led to five fast.

Before you knew it you were laughing with them, knocking back shots other guys bought for you. You acquired a following, shadows hanging around you looking for your attention. The one in the hat, the first one to approach you, he got comfortable, feeling some sort of seniority for finding you first. His arm ended up around you at some point as guy after guy came up to you shamelessly flirting, saying things you couldn’t quite comprehend, but knew you wouldn’t like if you were sober.

“You want me to tell ‘em all to leave?” the man in the hat whispered in your ear, his arm around you while another guy stood in front of you. Blinking, everything dizzy, you looked up at him, eyebrows squeezing together in the center of your forehead.

“And, what?” you asked, squinting. “Leave me here with who, you?”

A laugh pushed through his lips, his gaze scattering elsewhere. “I mean, they’re not bothering you?”

Taking your time, you looked over every single one of them, their heads tipped up, nonsense spewing from their lips. One big competition of who could be the loudest, the most obnoxious. Not one compared to a single guy on your brother's baseball team, they were all trashy Haos tourists.

You looked up at Hat Man. “I’d definitely prefer it if you were all women.”

“Oh shit,” his eyes lit up, “You’re into that?”

You finished the drink in your hand and placed it on the bar. “It’s not a kink.”

“It is for me,” he smirked and you cringed.

“Leave,” you almost shouted, trying to stand up. His arm around you kept you on the stool.

“No, wait, wait,” his laugh made your skin crawl. “I didn’t mean it like that, I mean it’s cool if you’re, you know, bi, or whatever, right? That’s what you are?” You tried to stand again, but he moved in front of you, your knees pressing to his thighs. “It’s okay, I’m sure there’s a girl in here somewhere, want me to look?”

Tapping his chest with a finger in a weak attempt to move him, you looked up at him in utter disgust. “She’d be more likely to agree to me, with me. And we’d leave you, because you are not it.”

His face fell, an anger replacing anything else he was feeling. “What the fuck?” he muttered, his grip tightening on your shoulders. “This whole time I thought you were feeling this,” he said. You shook your head. “You fucking bitch,” he snickered, giving you a slight shake. Fear sparked within you, your eyes going wide. “That’s what you are, you know that right? I’m over here acting all nice, but you really are what they say you are. A fucking bitch.”

“Take your fucking hands off of her.”

The voice, one full of rage that made it so deep, it brought tears to your eyes.

The man in the hat laughed aloud, pulled back, turned around and withheld his gasp, but the way his eyes widened expressed his shock. His face, patient, completely straight, stared back at him, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. Tearing his eyes off the man, he looked at you and the tears slipped down your cheeks.

“She belong to you?” the man asked, venom in his voice, trying to regain any sort of traction, any sort of fight. “You know what she’s been over here doing?”

Vernon ignored him. Keeping his eyes on you he wrapped an arm around your back and helped you off the stool, catching you as you stumbled into his hold. Nerves infected your veins, this close to him, looking up at him, feeling him, touching him, smelling him, all of it. He was the same as he’s ever been, as comforting as he’s been since the first day you met him. And he held you the same, muscle memory. 

“Let’s go,” he said to you, pushing the guy out of the way, reaching up to knock the Lions hat off of his head before he pushed by anyone else.

“She’s a slut, new kid!” he shouted after the two of you. “Nothing but a bitch!”

“Don’t listen to him,” Vernon muttered, guiding you through the bar, through the crowds to the door. Pushing it open to more crowds, new crowds to gawk at you, he walked you over to a black car and placed you by the passenger door. Pulling it open, he moved you inside with a light tap to your back. Flashes lit up from the tables and people by the door to the bar behind you, flashes he sighed at. You turned to look, but his hand on his shoulder aided in gently putting you in the car. “Don’t,” he whispered, “Leave them alone.”

He pushed the door shut once you were seated, the car brand new, smelling fresh and like leather. It was way smaller than anything your brother owned, but it was clean, and definitely expensive. Laying your head back on the headrest, your world spun, forcing you to take deep breaths into your stomach. Wiping your eyes, your cheeks, you looked out the windows for Vernon. On the phone he wandered around the front of the car, glancing at you occasionally, his mouth moving a mile a minute.

Your heart sunk into your gut. He looked good. Different, but good. Instead of a t-shirt he wore a black button down, half of it tucked into his black jeans that hugged his thighs. A leather belt strapped around his waist complimented the same chain that hung around his neck, one you remembered once brushed over your nose. That night in the locker room, the only night you ever shared with him. It was enough to ruin you entirely, nothing would ever be as satisfying, as fulfilling. 

He got into the driver's seat, his phone dropping into his lap with the release of a breath. Looking at you once, he pulled his door shut and laid his head backward. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Yeah,” you whispered, half conscious of what was coming out of your mouth. Pulling your feet up on the seats, you wrapped your arms around your knees and focused forward through the tinted windshield. “Sorry.”

Silence surrounded you. A sound that once went unnoticed between you, something that didn’t need to be addressed, something you both understood. It held a different semblance now, full of questions unanswered, feelings unknown.

You didn’t want to, but you cried. Since you saw his face, you couldn’t stop.

“Isla, you’re okay,” he said, frozen where he sat. “Those guys were assholes, you know that. When have you ever let a guy get to you like this?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pressing your hands to your cheeks. Sucking in a breath, you shook your head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He turned his head, a look you couldn’t reciprocate.

“Why?”

“You always have to take care of me,” you gasped, burying your face in your hands. “I’m sorry.” You wondered if he knew half of your apologies were aimed at September. And, December. And, two weeks ago.

He took a breath. “I wasn’t gonna leave you with those assholes.”

“But, you hate me,” you whispered, and he moved himself around entirely, facing you where he sat.

“When did I ever say that?” Taking your hands away, you found him looking at you like you had grown a second head. “Who told you that?”

“No one,” you said. “It was… implied.”

Vernon shut his eyes for a few seconds. “Isla, I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t talk to me,” you whispered. “You don’t want to talk to me, you don’t want anything to do with me.” Opening his eyes, the look on his face hurt your heart. “You’re all I can think about, you’re all I’ve been able to think about, for a really, really long time.”

Taking his lip between his teeth, he averted his eyes elsewhere and gathered his thoughts. “I did not want to have this conversation like this, you’re drunk.”

Tears fell from your eyes. “I’m always drunk. Why?”

His eyes softened as they met yours. “Is that rhetorical?” Laying your head down on your knees, you shook your head, your lips trembling. “What were you trying to forget about tonight?”  The answer popped in your head immediately, but you didn’t want to say it, not to him. You forgot he was able to read your mind. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“Mingyu,” you whispered on command. The self awareness he had to not make a face continued to impress you. “The thought of you not wanting me.”

He wrapped a hand around the steering wheel and stared at it. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Isla,” he said under his breath. “I’ll always want you.” A breath shot through you. He turned his chin toward you. “I love you, and unfortunately I think no matter what you do, I always will.” Twisting in your seat you watched as he moved himself backward, like he was expecting you to reach for him. “As soon as I heard you were with your brother I thought you were finally gonna have some peace, but these kinds of people keep finding you. They know what to use against you to get what they want, and it kills me ‘cause I know you’re smarter than this.”

“If I am then why does it keep happening?”

A small smile hit his lips for a millisecond. “A lot of things,” he mumbled. “We grew up differently, I could start there.”

Your stomach took a tumble. “Dont,” you whispered, and he bobbed his head.

“Exactly, see, you already know it,” he said. “You got to a point when we were at Nasara, where you were so sick of it, you knew what you had to do. At least, that’s what I thought had happened when you left and Aurora told me you were with DK. Even those first few weeks when you didn’t answer me, I just kept thinking, this is it, he’s gonna help her, get her help. I didn’t need a response, I know you, Iya,” the slip of the nickname triggered the tears, “You would answer me when you were ready, and I really didn’t know where you were, so if you were somewhere,” he tilted his head at the same time like he couldn’t bring himself to say the word rehab, “I figured you’d answer me when it was over, but…”

New Years happened. Photos of you and Mingyu locking lips hit the internet, and no, you weren’t getting help, you latched yourself onto the very opposite.

Vernon knew it too with the way he looked at you now. 

“V,” you whispered, and the softest smile graced his lips.

“What were you trying to forget?”

A shaky breath ripped through your lungs, the tears staining your cheeks coming to a standstill. Shaking your head, nibbling your lips, you whispered, “You.”

“Why?” he asked, voice pure, the question genuine, ripped from his brain and thrown into your face. Not a thought formed, the best you could do was plead with him with your eyes. “Isla, I thought there was something between us.”

“There was,” you said. “There is.”

He tried his best to not scoff in your face, but it happened anyway. “Then why ignore me? Why push me away? I fell in love with you, and you vanished.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered. Jaw ajar, midthought, Vernon blinked a few times and stared at you. Snapping his mouth shut, his jaw clenched as he looked away. “I thought I wasn’t gonna see you again.”

He almost broke his neck with how fast he looked at you. “Isla, you could’ve answered the phone and found out.”

“I know,” you nearly shouted, screwing your face up. “I was scared, I was trying to ignore everything, DK was on me, he did want me to go somewhere but I wouldn’t, and I tried therapy, and I tried outpatient shit, but it sucked, and then Mingyu came back ‘cause he knew I was around, and it’s all a mess from there. The shit from Nasara stuck with me, I thought it wouldn’t fuck me up that bad, but it’s like… a problem.”

Your heart lodged into your throat. He had reached over and wrapped a hand around your wrist.

“Okay,” he breathed, encouraging you to breathe with him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me, I told you, Isla, I know you.” You were both paralyzed in place. “It’s okay to need help, it’s okay to admit that you need help. And, because I know you, I know that it’s gonna make you want to run away somewhere else, but you can’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t,” he said, giving your wrist a gentle shake. “I wanna record you saying that so tomorrow you can’t deny it.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re gonna talk to me tomorrow?”

He smiled. “I have wanted to talk to you every single day,” he let go of your wrist and settled back into his side of the car. “But, you have a… boyfriend. I don’t think he likes me, by the way.”

Shying away, you mumbled, “I told him we fucked.”

Not an infliction on his face. “Hm,” he hummed, glancing out the windshield, “Is that what we did?” When he looked back at you and your sappy eyes, you shook your head. “Explains why he looks at me the way he does.”

“He doesn’t like DK either,” you said, and Vernon went stoic. “He won’t talk to him, DK tries, but Mingyu avoids him.”

“Seems about right,” Vernon muttered. Questioning him with a brow, he said, “Why would a guy who’s trying to manipulate you into what he wants associate himself with people who want what's best for you?”

Groaning, burying your face back in your hands, you said, “You sound like Ryujin.”

Vernon smiled. “I know.”

You never looked at him faster. “What?”

“She’s my friend too, Iya,” he breathed through a laugh. “I don’t hear details, don’t worry, but I hear enough to know that your little relationship thing is not good for you.”

“Why would she tell you anything!?”

He shrugged, fingers tapping the steering wheel. Shifting in his seat, looking away from you, he said, “She wants us together.”

A chill breezed over your skin. Brushing your hands over the bumps you sat backward and lowered your chin, waiting for him to meet your eyes. When he did, you whispered, “I do, too.”

Pulling into a lazy smile, his lips parted, and he whispered, “Me too.”

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Looking forward to this prompt like always.

maybe they get slightly jealous while out, so they grab onto their partner's hand to establish their relationship

here it is! I have no idea what I just wrote but, you know, here we go:

—-

The Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala. If anything in Maura’s life is a black tie affair, it’s this. It comes once a year, in May, just as the spring gives way to summer temperatures, and, unfortunately, when the nascent MLB season really starts to take shape. Which usually means she takes a man, a doctor most times, instead of Jane: the person with whom she much prefers to attend these things. Not only is Jane Maura’s best friend - and thus makes it all genuinely more bearable - Jane has all the social skills Maura wishes she did when it came to fellow donors and hot shots. There are celebrities at this thing, for god’s sake. And that makes Maura nervous, especially since Jane so often has about five to eight games to catch up on by the time late May rolls around and refuses to come. Last time Maura had to bring a surgeon. But this year, by some miracle, the Red Sox have an off day on this Tuesday night, the same that the Gala is on. 

And Maura had known this fact for months. In fact, as soon as the regular season schedule was released. That meant that she started her get-Jane-to-the-Gala campaign while snow still raged outside and the year had barely begun. It culminates in the black, strapless gown she wears now, the one showing off her tanned shoulders and her three hundred dollar haircut complete with layers and highlights and the smell of priceless product. There are heels that highlight her calves and make her ass look fantastic; there is a pendant on her neck that draws attention to her perfectly supported breasts. There’s even a diamond ring on her right ring finger, big and belonging once to her mother, because Jane likes to look at things that remind her of tradition. 

And Maura had promised, not with words per se, but quite forcefully, quite convincingly, that Jane’s attendance would be worthwhile. The promise had consisted of some rather pointed modeling in the guest bedroom while Jane sat in a lounge chair and watched, of even more pointed half-states of undress, including dropping the garment in front of her with her heels still on so that she could bend over in the skimpiest pair of underwear appropriate for a platonic home fashion show that she owned. It also consisted of the subtle increase in hand jewelry, answers to Jane’s questions about it being, “My mother gave it to me. She couldn’t bring herself to wear it anymore; she finds such signs of commitment provincial. I vehemently disagree - especially when the signs are so exquisite. Don’t you think?”

Jane had sniffled. She’d stood, looking stiff and stupid as her mouth gaped at the ring Maura held out, before she finally said, “it’s on the wrong hand.”

Maura had chuckled warmly and replied, “for now.”

The stupidity intensified up until Jane mopped her jaw off the floor and excused herself to return upstairs. Maura then understood that she didn’t even need to invite Jane: she just needed to bring the Gala up. 

That happened about two weeks after the ring incident, which was about two weeks after the dress fitting. Maura stood in front of the vanity in her bedroom’s en suite, rubbing a European moisturizer into the skin just over her cheek bones. “You know, the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala is on the 28th this year,” she said with the most practiced nonchalance as she frowned to get more of the product into her pores. 

Jane had grunted. She leaned against the threshold to the bathroom and crossed her arms, using tox results for their current case as the excuse to be in Mauara’s inner sanctum. Maura had at least given her the courtesy of relaying those lab results before bringing the fundraiser up. “‘S an off day,” Jane said. 

Maura made a curious sound. “Hmm. Really?”

“Yeah,” Jane confirmed. “Want me to tag along?”

Maura pursed her lips so she didn’t smile. Jane isn’t hers. But she knows a secret: Jane wants to be, and so she admits she played a little dirty to have gotten Jane to accompany her.

Honestly, though, that was the nonverbal content of Maura’s promise: go, and becoming mine is a distinct, dirty possibility for you. “I’d like that,” she told Jane. “Do you need something to wear?”

She knew what Jane would say. Well, she knew the answer. Jane ended up saying, “I”ve seen what you’re wearing; I think I can cobble something together.”

Contrary to what even Jane herself might have believed, Maura hadn’t wanted to go shopping for Jane anyway - she wanted it on the table that Jane would be dressing to compliment her. Because that meant Jane in a suit. And Maura is attracted to the Jane she knows, not the Jane she can conjure by draping her in couture.

And so, Jane is here, at the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala, in May, instead of in front of a ballgame somewhere. Jane is here in a suit, with a very expensive white silk shirt under the jacket, with a sleeker, more understated boot than the aggressive block heel she often wears to work, her hair wild and beautiful and the perfect compliment to her sharp features.

It is, by all accounts as Maura returns from the restroom, a win. A complete victory on all fronts. Except, that is, Jane stands close to Doctor Melissa Henry - world renowned OBGYN and overall knockout - listening intently enough, leaning in close enough, to hear above the sociable din. 

Jane’s long fingers hold her champagne flute by the rim, the drink Maura had procured for her long before the trip to the restroom, and Jane hasn’t touched it. Hasn’t had a sip. Which, of course not, because Doctor Henry is Puerto Rican and curvaceous and a genius. Why would Jane interrupt her spell to imbibe? 

Doctor Henry leans close and says something into Jane’s ear, Jane who turns into the gesture yet again, and suddenly, they are both chuckling. And by god, it’s Jane’s handsome chuckle - the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and bestows upon her a crooked little grin.

Normally, Maura respects the hell out of Doctor Henry as a leader in the field of women’s medicine. She’s serious and principled and warm… and that’s the damn problem. Maura did a fucking bend and snap to get Jane here (thank Jane’s modern media bootcamp for that particularly relevant reference); she’s not letting go this easily. 

And again, she intends to fight dirty. 

She marches across the crowded ballroom to where the two women stand, where Doctor Henry places a steadying hand on Jane’s shoulder because her heels are tall and her ankles are crossed. A man bumps into a deadset Maura, by accident, but it only fuels her resolve. She continues, gaze forward, back straight, clutch in front of her hips (the ones that sway as she walks), until she approaches Jane and Doctor Henry. Then she stops.

For all her missing of social mores, Maura can synthesize the details of a situation like no other. So just as she approaches, she comes up to Jane’s left, because Jane’s right is occupied with the champagne. And also, coincidentally, Doctor Henry. All for the better, though, because this means that for her next act, the ring on her hand can do all the heavy lifting, even if it’s a mirror image of where it’s supposed to be. 

Her fingers find the ones at Jane’s side, and they slither between them. Once they’re all but entwined, she drags them up, skin brushing as they curl, just before manicured fingers scratch Jane’s palm one time. Then as she fans them back out, down and united again, she kisses Jane’s covered shoulder. Jane shivers and Maura knows it’s because of the metal rubbing on her ring finger. “My mother’s bete noir is here,” she says into the fabric of Jane’s jacket, relishing the delicate scratch against her gloss-softened lips. “The feud is as alive as ever.”

Boom.

Between the touching and the comment just for her, she’s got Jane. She knows she’s got Jane because instead of a statement about how rude it is not to greet the third party, Jane says in that gravel-rich timbre, “she still telling the story about how her daughter styled… who?”

“The Roman Prince of Cerveteri? At least once a function,” Maura replies quickly, all as she turns her gaze on Doctor Henry. “So sorry, Melissa - family issues. You know how it is.”

Family. Issues.

Jane stiffens further, grows warmer; Maura knows there’s blushing even if she can only see Melissa Henry’s straight-out-of-a-catalog face. 

“That I do,” Doctor Henry says. Gracefully she steps away from Jane. Is that a bit of fear Maura sees, too? “Do uh, do you two need a drink? I think I’m headed to the bar.”

Jane smiles with her lips closed and simply holds up her champagne flute. I’ve got plenty.

“I’ve had enough for the evening, but thank you,” Maura answers with a cordial smile.

When Doctor Henry walks away after a nod and a smirk of her own, Jane snorts. “I don’t think she’s coming back,” she says.

“God, I hope not,” says Maura. When Jane, without letting go of Maura’s hand, downs her entire drink and steps close enough for their fronts to touch, Maura honors the nonverbal request for an embrace by wrapping her free arm around Jane’s shoulders. “When you’re here, when you accompany me to these events, you’re mine,” she asserts with a growl of her own.

“I’m yours all the time,” Jane counters. She rests her head in the crook of Maura’s neck because in heels, Maura is tall enough.

Maura squeezes, and laughs lowly. “I know.”

[literaphobe]

[i'm the anon from earlier] tbh I have no idea how I found you or if I followed you before I started watching mlb!! I follow people rather impulsively and I’ve been on Tumblr forever so it’s hard to tell sometimes but your posts are bangers and I’d reblog them all if I weren’t shy

I started watching mlb because I was binging another show that had come out earlier this summer and I wanted it to last me a bit longer so I thought “oh, mlb is on Netflix, I once had a mutual obsessed with it in 2016, might as well watch a few episodes in between eps of the other show” and well, here we are, three months later 🤠

It had nothing to do with the movie coming out or the Season 5 finale, I only found out about the recency of these when I tried to watch the entirety of season 5 on Disney+ and. there were only 8 episodes. it was two in the morning. I was upset

But how/why did you start watching the show!!!! I assumed you’d also been one of the “company founders” asdfsgsg (1/2)

HI ANON!!!! Oh my god we’re both new-ish??? this is so crazy. i love how u started watching the show. i should think about what random mutuals of mine were into in 2016 too and randomly decide to watch those shows. SPEAKING OF NETFLIX i saw the show summary they gave once like yknow ‘as teenagers, she’s in love with him and he’s oblivious. as superheroes he’s in love with her and she’s annoyed’ LIKE I WONT LIE. i think they slayed that!!!!! mlb is not on netflix in my country btw. its on disney plus tho!! which is where i first binged the show HEHE like july 2022!! been over a year since i first started watching time truly does fly

i started watching mlb because i saw people talking about the s5 lovesquare flip and this was before it happened (ultimately it did not turn out how other people were discussing it) i was seeing tweets like OLD LOVE SQUARE -> NEW LOVE SQUARE and it went from omg chat noir loves ladybug and marinette loves adrien and well all the damn arrows to um marichat being a thing?? and i saw a mutual of mine qrt like ‘yeah tbh marichat is prob the healthiest dynamic in the lovesquare so they should be dating’ and um. well. i wont give my opinion on that but I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT MARICHAT WAS DATING OR SOMETHING AND THAT ID SEE A LOVESQUARE FLIP. so i was like. man this show sounds absolutely insane. and so i clicked on it

AND I LIKED IT A LOT. so i kept watching. and here i am now. june-july 2022 michelle was tricked. marichat is not an established couple. its adrienette. which well. it is what it is. me being me i dont want any pairing established bc i think complicated situations are fun ^_^

i totally get u being upset when there were only 8 episodes in s5 tbh. BUT IMAGINE ME REALIZING S5 HAD STARTED BUT THERE WERE ONLY TWO EPISODES AND GLOOB WAS THE ONE WHO DROPPED THEM. i was like. what the fuck is this. i mean im watching them they are so fun but. why am i suffering. and here i am now!!!

i wish you would reblog my posts but honestly i far prefer having fun little convos like this on anon 😍😍 so i completely love and accept u and encourage u. as long as u drop by my askbox i am already the happiest blogger girl alive !!

also NO im not a company founder no. im the intern who runs into the break room every day and screams ‘WHOOOOOO WANTS COFFEEEEEEE’ and most days no one’s in the break room some days people are there but ignore me because there’s coffee in the damn pot so what’s this bitch on about BUT sometimes someone’s like oh hell yeah ill have a cup and then i start grinding beans on the spot to make bean juice or i like hand out instant coffee packets and smile like i just solved a problem. does that make sense

[zoeology31]

The Minnesota Twins are an American professional baseball team based in Minneapolis. The Twins compete in Major League Baseball (MLB) as a member club of the American League (AL) Central Division. The team is named after the Twin Cities moniker for the two adjacent cities of Minneapolis and Saint Paul. The franchise was founded in Washington, D.C., in 1901 as the Washington Senators. The team moved to Minnesota and was renamed the Minnesota Twins for the start of the 1961 season. The Twins played in Metropolitan Stadium from 1961 to 1981 and in the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome from 1982 to 2009. The team has played at Target Field since 2010. The franchise won the World Series in 1924 as the Senators, and in 1987 and 1991 as the Twins. From 1901 to 2023, the Senators/Twins franchise's overall regular-season win–loss–tie record is 9,177–9,875–109 (.482); as the Twins (through 2023), it is 4,954–5,011–8 (.497).

...

Yeah, we're cooked.

Lead is fully gone now, and with 9 games left we have to outpace the Tigers, who are on fire and get basically three free wins to end the season. Over the last 4.5 weeks, we have exactly matched our pace from the infamous September 2022 collapse (11-22 to end the season in '22, 10-20 so far now). The remarkable and gutwrenching part about this is it comes literally immediately after the high-water mark of the season, 17 games over .500 after game 3 against the Rangers.

Turns out losing 2/5 of the starting rotation for the season and 2/3 of the star position player core for long stretches, then relying on a rotation, lineup, and bullpen largely inexperienced with this type of constant high leverage games and all running on fumes, that wasn't a great recipe for success. At the same time, the variety of ways the Twins have found to lose over this stretch almost defies explanation. Everything needs to go right in order to win, and that never happens. They're just playing that bad.

As recently as 9/2, after we won the first game of the Rays series, Fangraphs had us at a season-high 95.8% chance to make the playoffs. On 9/12, a week ago, after taking the Angels series, it was 90.8%. It's now 62.6%, the lowest it's been in over three months, and even that feels high with how this team (and Detroit) has been playing. We're managing the statistical equivalent of rolling a natural 1.

I fucking hate the Guardians. We play them twice as often as the Yankees, they are our direct playoff competition, we always lose in the same fucking way, and they definitely hate us back.

The pitching was fine in this series. Great even, 13 runs over 4 games is respectable and solidly above average. Starters and middle relief did their job. The only blips were Jax game 1 (there's been a lot of discussion over the psychological effect of getting out of the 7th and having to go back out for the 8th) and Henriquez game 3 (thrown in way over his head because all our leverage guys were down).

The problem, as it's often been, was the offense. Just unable to add on, answer back, push runners across, extend rallies, or literally anything to give our pitching staff breathing room. It's a problem over this stretch, and it's a problem every time we play this team. Each game had one or two guys who could get something going (Buxton, Wallner, Castro, Correa, Margot), but the rest of the lineup fell flat. It's reminiscent of last year's May-June malaise, where bullpen losses showed up on the scorecards but the real problem was endless missed opportunities on offense.

Eesh. I don't know. I like how the team's shaping up for next year, and there's still plenty of mathematical paths for them to make it this year, but it's looking bad and has for a bit now.

I think I'll be an NL supporter for the playoffs this year.

[san-fics]

December 2021 posting schedule

Hey, guys! We are finishing Moonlight trap tomorrow, which was the third Felinette in a row after Breaking the rules and Living a dream for my local Felinette November.

So I have a new posting schedule for December to announce. As you can see I don’t plan on posting the same story every day. Instead we’ll have it every third day, and 2 other ships in the meantime.

As I promised, we have Micro-event for canon love-square on Dec 1st — which is a short (~7k) time-travel reveal fic (written before Ephemeral though, even I used the pictures from the episode for the cover, so it only resolves the Chat Blanc reveal dilemma).

Then we start a new PV-fic called Playing a game for Bridgette and Felix, and have it posted every third day as well. It is also a short (~8k) reveal fic, I guess those are my specialty for now.

And yes! I try myself in a new shared fandom, paring Marinette with Damian Wayne in Behind enemy lines story. I’ve read few of the fan fictions with this ship and I find some things the authors do there to some of the characters rather sad, so I came out with my own version for this ship. I’m close to 15k for the moment, but I still see much development there, so we’ll see how far it goes, but the first 10 chapters are already done, so I wanna share and hear your opinion.

* Damian’s character will be mostly built based on DC Universe Animated Original Movies (2015-2021) starting with Son of Batman, but if you’ve read dc-comic books or met him in some other media — I hope my vision of him will be valid as well.

After Micro event is over I go on posting Canon love-square one-shots every third day, as you can see from the schedule. I already have the ideas and some scenes for most of them. There are 4 times Chat Noir let Adrien out and 1 time Ladybud let out Marinette, High opinion and Truth or dare short text-fic in that list already. So be prepared for some Ladynoir fluff, and maybe even Adrianette smut if I’m bold enough to post it...)

I still can’t stop writing about Felinette, so we’ll have some canon-Felix and Marinette stories starting from Dec 20th. I call them one-shots in the schedule because they are longer then my usual posting chapters (1,5-2k), but they are actually follow one another in one storyline, and I already have 5 of them writen and some ideas for more (You may see the titles at the schedule at the beginning of this post).

And the last, but not least for December 31rd — is the first chapter for my new project — which is a shared PV/canon AU, that doesn’t have a name yet.

I always felt like canon Marinette more fits to PV Felix, as well as canon Adrien more likely to go along with PV Marinette (Bridgette). So yeah, there are few fics where the autors switch Mari and Bri places, but they are rather dark and bloody, I couldn’t even read through.

So I have this plot idea and few ships to develop along the way, wich include the main characters (Mari, Bri, Fe and Adri) as well as secondary ones (Chloe, Alix, Kim and Luka) from two different universes. It doesn’t have a cover yet, but I still have a full month for it, so...

🎁

Now, if someone want’s to be tagged only for some ships and avoid the others — please inform me, so I would only tag you to the stories you likely to appreciate.

And if you have some ideas for love-square or felinette stories — feel free to share.

Love you all, and see you in the comments! 🧡🧡🧡

Come for more completed MLB fanfic here!

Tag list (ask me to join)

@mochegato

@thepapillonnoir

@snow-leopard-777

@loves-books

@turiankitty

@toodaloo-kangaroo

@readingismyoxygen

@aespades

@starlightshield

@jessigurl-design

[everybodyscupoftea]

may i request zach seeing brooke being a bitch to y/n and standing up for her 😌

*clears throat and pretends i didn’t ask you to send this*

absolutely!!! also this came out so soft wow

i hope you guys love zach as much as i do because i just *clenches fist* he means so much to me

-

in the several months you and zach had been together, he’d only heard of brooke, never actually met her. you weren’t sure whether it was intentional on your and jj’s part or if it genuinely just never worked out, but you knew that would eventually have to change.

the night it did was pure coincidence. zach had a baseball game earlier in the afternoon and was feeling pretty sore afterward, so instead of going out with cody and tyler that night like the two of you had originally planned, the four of you decided to hang out and watch a movie.

you waited for zach to shower and come out to the parking lot, where you planned to drive the two of you to the dorms. he walked out, slight limp, and smiled widely at you, “hey, hon, what’d you think?”

“a hero, huh? saw that awkward bend in the fourth, bud.”

he grimaced, “yeah, groin’s feeling it. thanks for agreeing to adjust plans.”

“don’t have to thank me, i just want to hang out with you, i don’t care what we do.”

zach’s smile returned, wider than the first time, “you’re too good to me.”

you scoffed, “hardly. i just really enjoy your company.”

“good think i enjoy yours too,” he told you, finally bending down to kiss you.

when you pulled away, smiling, you answered, “you played really well today,” and tugged on his hoodie strings, “proud of you, bub.”

ducking his head, zach’s smile softened, “thank you.”

with one last tug on the strings, you reached around to pull the passenger door open for zach to climb in. shutting it gently, you jogged around to get into the driver’s seat, cherishing his reaction to your compliment.

one weekend when zach’s parents came down for a game, you’d met them, and his dad was...interesting to say the least. that night, zach confided that his dad, and mom by extension, never really told him good job.

“i just want some affirmation sometimes,” he confessed, voice breaking a little. you’d just held him tighter, his head resting on your chest, and made a point to always remember to tell him you were proud of him. 

the drive back to the dorm was short and in comfortable silence, zach’s head leaning back, eyes shut. you smiled over at him at a red light and pulled into the parking garage soon after. he was almost asleep and you shook him gently to wake him back up, “want to nap before going to the boys’ room?”

he hummed, licking his lips a few times, “no, i’m good. let’s go.”

“want your bag?” 

“yeah. was just gonna stay at yours tonight.”

“good with me,” you answered, turning the car off to start the long walk to their dorm. zach, normally a very fast walker, was slow, an arm over your shoulder partially from soreness and partially from exhaustion.

taking the bag, you asked, “you sure you don’t want to nap first? or like, soak in the tub?”

“might take you up on the soak later tonight. got some stretches from coach too if you could help before bed.”

“definitely.”

tyler answered the door, pout on his face, “come on in, i’m volunteering to give my bed up for zach, baseball extraordinaire.”

“no,” cody yelled, “i’m giving mine up. i even made it.”

zach laughed, “i’ll let the lady choose.”

“tyler regularly washes his sheets,” you told him, “i’d much rather risk sitting on his.”

“fair,” zach answered, and the two of you sat down. you let zach situate himself first and then curled into the empty space, half your torso underneath his. 

cody was staring at the two of you, amused, “is that even comfortable?”

which, no, but zach seemed good. he shifted a few times in lieu of answering, and when some of his weight lifted, you were able to honestly answer, “yep.”

tyler picked the movie, and the other two boys squeezed onto tyler’s bed too. zach had shut his eyes, and he cracked one open, “what’s up, boys?”

“cuddle pile,” cody answered, and fitted himself between your legs and the wall.

he shrugged and sat up a little to give tyler more room at the foot of the bed. about forty minutes in, the dorm door flew open, startling everyone. zach jumped before groaning softly in pain. cody yelled, “hey, watch the door, maybank.”

jj answered, “my b, guys.” he peeked in and visibly flinched at seeing all four of you squished onto the twin size bed. “what’s going on here?”

“movie night,” you answered.

brooke, who you hadn’t realized was also present, leaned around him with a scoff, “chilling in a pile of boys, just where you like it, i bet.”

“are you really trying to slut shame me?” you asked tiredly, “it’s fucking 2018 dude, get some new material.”

rolling her eyes, brooke fired back, “not saying anything that’s not true.”

zach pushed himself into a seated position, eyes narrowed, “you must be brooke. just as bad as i’ve been told.”

“sorry,” she started, “but who the fuck are you?”

“zach davis,” cody answered, “put some fucking respect on the name. this guy’s gonna be in the mlb one day and you’ll be fucking lucky he knows your name.”

“or unlucky,” he said after cody finished, “because i’ve heard zero good things about you. and i don’t forget a name.”

she gulped, and for the first time since you’d met her, she actually looked rattled. it felt good and you smirked, “anything else?”

“you’re such a bitch.”

zach glared, something he didn’t do seriously very often, “you’d better watch your mouth.”

the whole time, jj stayed frozen, and brooke looked at him, clearly waiting for some backup. he didn’t jump in until she elbowed him, “hey, you watch it,” he told zach, weakly.

rolling his eyes, zach snapped, “dude, you let her disrespect your best friends, if you think i’m seriously going to listen to anything you have to say, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

jj’s jaw dropped and tyler crowed, “davis from the top ropes!”

your cheeks were warm and you squeezed zach’s hand in thanks as the two uninvited left the door frame and went into jj’s room. slamming it behind them. cody sighed and yelled, “and i told you to stop slamming doors!”

he got no response.

[deaddovecoterie]

butterflies

marinette dupain cheng x adrien agreste || ladybug x chat noir

fandom: miraculous ladybug

rating: T (maybe R to be safe for next chp? ahaha jk jk,,, unless?,,,) 

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst. just pure angst. maybe fluff if you squint real hard

warning(s): swearing, vaguely unedited, blood mention

a/n: heyyyy :DD im back on my writing bullshit with my favourite personnnn (guess who) @whoseblogsthis cause me and this talented mf co-wrote this :’) ky i just wanna know what it feels like to carry every ff we write together on your back because of my linguistic incompetence. anyway this is my first mlb fic so i hope yall like it i guess !!

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

“...Bystanders have not been hurt, although Paris’ superheroes have not made an appearance yet…”

There was unrest among the students of Francoise Dupont High School as Adrien listened to his friends talk quietly amongst one another. Thunder rumbled in the distance as heavy, chilling rain poured down from the skies. There was a gloomy eeriness that clung to the air, a quiet that made the high schoolers feel like they were just waiting for something to shatter the silence. Grey clouds were collecting, casting the city in shadow-like darkness. 

Another Akuma attack had been reported yet again. The Parisian superheroes were more than glad to help out, but it was obvious they were tiring: their moves became sloppier, their conversations shorter, and their patience thinner. 

Adrien listened to the chatter exchanged between Alya and Nino, while Marinette remained quiet. She looked tired, which really wasn’t that uncommon, but her fatigue seemed to spill into all of her activities. She had less “pep in her step,” as Alya had said, and her eyes weren’t nearly as bright as they used to be. Not that he meant to pay attention to such things, of course, but it was hard to not notice. Even Chloe, who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but herself, had laid off on the harassment. Adrien chalked up his attentiveness to Marinette as nothing more than being a good, concerned friend, but as of late that excuse was becoming harder to sell, even to himself.

It started about four months ago when they came back from summer break. Everyone had gone back to school and while Adrien was physically there, he was mentally absent. Kagami had just gone abroad for school again after they’d broken things off. He would have liked to say it was a mutual breakup, but she was the one who brought it up. Kagami was wise beyond her years so when she told him that his heart wasn’t in the relationship, he knew she was right. He expected his first heartbreak to be gut-wrenching, but it wasn’t. He felt sad, sure, but not in the way that leaves you paralyzed in bed for weeks on end. At the time, he wondered why that was, but the answer was obvious: Marinette. 

When he got to school, it was almost as if she could see the gloomy cloud over his head. She was there for him when no one else seemed to notice, her stuttering and fumbling hardly present in their conversation. In the beginning, he felt almost guilty for confiding in her. It would’ve been ignorant of him to believe she didn’t have problems of her own (who didn’t?), but it was a fact known by many that Marinette Dupain-Chang was one to do whatever she could to help the people she cared for. 

It was then that he noticed it: the butterflies. It was like a tsunami of anxiety, excitement, and shyness all rolled into one whenever she did anything: the way her hair moved in the breeze, her clear laugh that dared him to smile, but most of all, her kindness. Marinette was one of those people that you couldn’t hate. She was that person who helped others even when no one was looking. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself when he started falling for her every move. 

She didn’t know, probably never would, but she had him whipped. 

The blonde was snapped back into reality when his best friend nudged him: “You coming?” Nino’s brow arched in question.

He looked across the street, where his bodyguard was waiting for him, standing by the driver’s side door of the sleek black Audi. Though it’s been the same car since Adrien was like thirteen, it still looked brand new. 

“I forgot my homework,” he said to Nino, calling out to his bodyguard to repeat the same thing. With a barely discernible nod of approval from the bodyguard, Adrien turned back toward the school doors.

Adrien grumbled as he jogged away from his friend group: “Well, Nadia, Paris’ superheroes happen to have vaguely normal lives too if you weren’t aware.”

Plagg floated up from Adrien’s pant pocket and did circles around his owner’s head. “You put too much faith in humans, they don’t think about that kinda stuff. To them, you and Ladybug are untouchable.”

“Yeah, well we’re not,” he mumbled frustratedly. He pressed his palms into his eyes tiredly and took a deep breath before dropping his arms back down to his sides. 

“Plagg claws out,” he muttered. 

Plagg liked to think he knew his miraculous holder quite well. Despite the kwami’s demeanour and seeming distaste toward anything non-cheese related, he did have feelings. Yes, he loved cheese, but he also loved Adrien. He had spent the last two years with Adrien, and he knew something was terribly wrong with his owner. 

He’d ask later. The cat-like kwami entered the ring miraculous, and with that, Adrien Agreste was gone, replaced by Chat Noir. 

The leather-clad hero headed toward the disaster zone, the rain not doing anything to help his vision. He landed on a rooftop near the Akuma attack and swiftly surveyed the scene. Upon not seeing Ladybug anywhere, Chat Noir sent a quick message to Ladybug, highlighting the damage, before swooping in to hold off the Akuma.

xXx

To put it simply, Marinette was struggling. It had been the fifth Akuma attack that week and after two years of being Ladybug, her excuses were becoming weaker and weaker as time went on. Adrien’s abrupt exit was odd, but she didn’t have time to think about it as she felt the ground shake slightly. It didn’t matter how exhausted she was, she couldn’t put off her duties any longer. 

“I uhm, I forgot I had a question for Miss Bustier. I’m going to go see if she’s still around and I’ll uh just stay here until Ladybug and Chat Noir get everything taken care of!” she flashed her friends a thumbs up and with that, she ran back inside the school, toward the locker room. She opened her tiny purse in order for Tikki to emerge. “This is bullshit,” she muttered to herself. 

Tikki gasped in shock. “Marinette!”

“Sorry,” she mumbled half-heartedly, “You wouldn’t happen to care if I maybe just happened to not show up and let Chat handle it?” 

The glare that the small kwami sent her way told her otherwise. “Something about this one tells me that you’ll need all the help you can get,” she told her owner. 

Her stomach twisted with anxiety, both confusion and shock washing over her face. Tikki had never talked about the dangers of an Akuma before, which alarmed Marinette. Shit.

“Tikki, spots on.” 

Ladybug swung with all her might as her trusty yoyo grabbed onto buildings and chimneys, the sounds of destruction nearing. A black blur, undoubtedly Chat, streaked the cloudy, grey sky as an akumatized villain screeched out. Her eyes skimmed over the cobblestone streets in front of her, but nothing could prepare her for the screams of terror and bloodied civilians that scattered the scene below. 

Her feet had only touched down on the ground for a second when she heard him. 

“Nice of you to drop in,” Chat purred, startling her. “You’re late,” he added, his voice icier than expected. 

“Cry about it,” Ladybug responded coldly. 

“Meowch m’lady,” he said in mock hurt. 

“Sorry,” she muttered to her partner as she took him in. His blonde silky hair was plastered to his head from the pouring rain, the droplets permeating the black leather. If the suit wasn’t skin-tight before, it certainly was now. She had to tear her eyes away from the sight of him, her sensibility screaming at her to focus while her eyes wanted nothing more than to drink in every inch of him.

Literally what the fuck, she said to herself. Now was no time to pine for her partner. 

The Akuma that stood before her was physically underwhelming in stature, but her clothing made up for it. The girl in front of them held herself at around 5’3 and couldn’t be more than 18, but her wicked smirk sent a chill through her spine. The girl was clad in an array of green from forest, sage, to mossy shades, the dress that adorned her body looking like that straight from greek mythology. It was made up of grand silks, almost entrancing Ladybug and Chat with the way that the fabric moved like rippling water. It was ethereal, really, but the closer she looked at it the deadlier it became. 

From around the waist and shoulders, long strips of silk floated behind her like the snakes on the head of Medusa. They almost seemed to bend to her will, the fabric defying gravity. Not only were pieces of the dress floating, but so was her long dark hair. In her hand was a staff made from tree trunk like material. Resting atop her head was an obsidian black crown with spikes the length of Ladybug’s hand. 

After looking around at the already distraught state of the street, their evaluation was over: she was not going to be another walk in the park.

“Shit,” Chat breathed out. It was at that moment that the villain opened her mouth to address both the heroes and bystanders. 

“Citizens of Paris, I am Gi Mágissa. I am not here to compromise with your heroes. Others in the past have failed to retrieve what Hawk Moth desires, but I will not: today will be the day that you remember as the fall of Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Her voice resonated as if it was echoing off the walls. She shifted her gaze to the left, her eyes locking with the two of them. 

“Give me your miraculous and I may decide to spare you and your city,” she said in a dangerously low voice. Her voice was smooth, yet it cut right through the two partners like a freezing wind in the dead of winter. Under any other circumstances, her words would be humorous, cheesy even, but this was not like anything else they faced.

Chat laughed as his trademarked smirk appeared. “Funny, because I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he said in mock thoughtfulness, almost like he was trying to recall a memory.

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed, “I’m starting to get the feeling that you won’t be able to joke your way out of this one,”

“C’mon m’lady, live a little.” 

“Yeah, well I might not be alive to do so if you keep being an idiot.” Ladybug could feel the frustration rising in her as Chat continued to appear so casual and relaxed. How could he not sense that this was so much worse than before?

Chat turned to her and she could finally see his eyes. Despite his outward appearance, she saw the nervousness in his gaze. There was almost a buzz in the air, a metallic smell that made them wrinkle their noses: blood, iron maybe. 

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” 

[verfound]

FIC: llcplaysguitar’s Mystery Girl (MLB/Lukanette)

Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen

Characters/Pairings: Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Summary: Marinette’s pretty sure she missed her chance with Luka, but she’s a supportive friend and will like every post he makes about his Mystery Girl if she makes him happy.  Meanwhile, Luka’s pretty sure Marinette knows she’s the one he’s been raving about on Tumblr all day and all the likes are a subtle little nod that yes, she would like him to finally ask her out already…

Author’s Notes/Warnings: A wee bit ago, a prompt generator got shared in the LBSC Sprint server, and even though I had Other Projects I needed to finish up first I was a DUMMY and clicked on it.  I got this prompt: “Marinette and Luka aren’t together yet, but thy like each other and they are mutual on twitter/Tumblr.  Luka accidentally publishes a tweet/post about their crush on Marinette on their main account, when they meant to put it on a private side account.  Marinette is too dense to realize it’s obviously about them, but it still worries them enough to ask a rather mortified Luka about it.”

I have the willpower of a poorly-trained puppy, so I started kicking ideas around, and the next thing I knew I had about 11k of what Quick called “Fifty Flavors of Dorks in Love”.  Because I like my ships STUPID.  xD  (Also I borrowed Evan for like 5m – thanks, Quick!)  ANYWAY.  Last fic of the year, folks!  Sending this one out to all the lovelies at LBSC, because they’re a buncha dirty, rotten Enablers.  <3 Half the anything you get from me would not happen without them.  Love you guys – you made 2020 survivable.  The world may be going to hell, but I can’t wait to see what fics 2021 brings us.

OH YEAH THIS IS THE FIC THE PIC WAS FOR.  😂

“llcplaysguitar’s Mystery Girl”

Marinette yawned, lifting her arms high above her head in a stretch. It was well past her bedtime, and she was exhausted, but she had been in a groove and hadn’t wanted to quit.  Besides, it wasn’t like she had school in the morning: it was summer break, and she didn’t even have bakery duty tomor…later!  In fact, her only plans for the coming day consisted of heading over to the Liberty to listen to Kitty Section’s rehearsal.  She was planning on bringing the latest prototypes and sketches she had for the merch they wanted to bring to a festival they’d be playing towards the end of summer, but those were already done, and it wasn’t like the band had given her a strict deadline (beyond the actual festival, which was still two months away).  The Couffaines didn’t even wake up until almost noon, anyway, so she could afford to sleep in a little.  She could…

…her phone pinged with a notification, and she pulled it up to check. Given the hour, it was most likely a random mailing list e-mail.

…or a notification that llcplaysguitar had just made a Tumblr post.  We’ve noticed they’re a favorite of yours!

[superspookywombat]

Falling {j.h} chapter two

Warnings: slight descriptions of getting stitches, slight swearing

Tags: (sorry if I do this wrong)

sleepy-whore geekysimmerthings mauvette268 treestarrrrrrrr kaleigh404 krazykatkay456  meganlikesfandoms

Cold, nimble fingers strung the thread in and out of your skin. When he had reached for the numbing substance, you had declined. The less money this costs, the better. You had said, covering up the true reason you said no. You, like your sister, got hurt a lot. But you didn’t mind, because being hurt reassured you that buried underneath everyone elses’ pain, yours was still there. You look away from the wound and watch Dr. Cullen work, his hands moving faster and more elegantly than any doctor you’ve ever had stitching you up before. 

“So, how are you liking Forks?” He asks. Knowing that you’d be asked this same question a million more times in the upcoming weeks, you answered honestly, but didn’t go into too much detail. 

“It’s nice. Quiet. I like the rain.” You say. He looks up at you, quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow. 

“And you’re positive that you and Bella are related?” He gives a small smirk. You chuckle dryly. 

“I was going to ask you how you knew my sister, but knowing her she’s probably been in here a few times already.” You say, flinching as the needle pokes into your skin again. He doesn’t answer as quickly as he had been, making you glance at his face. He seemed to be contemplating something, or angry with himself that he had revealed some sacred information. 

“Bella and my son, Edward, are courting.” He answers. Courting? Okay, grandpa. You make a face. 

“But you look so young.” He smiles at your response, as if there’s some sort of inside joke you were missing out on. The man looks no older than 30. Definitely not old enough to have a 17 year old. 

“My wife and I adopted him, along with our other children.” He answers. Instantly, hundreds of questions bombard your brain. Not only was this guy a damn good doctor, he also adopted teenagers? What a guy. 

“How many kids do you guys have?” You ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Five.” He says nonchalantly. Your jaw drops at his answer. Renee had her hands full with just you over the last six months, but five kids? Your mom would combust.

“Wow.” You say, deciding that you wouldn’t interrogate the poor man any longer. He chuckles, pulling the thread up and cutting it with some scissors.

“I’ve always admired Esme for her patience.” He says. 

“Esme.” You repeat. The name dances around on your tongue, familiarity teasing your tastebuds. He looks at you, probably wondering why you had repeated his wife’s name. You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of a daze. “Such a beautiful name.” 

“I agree.” He says. Stepping away from the hospital bed, he grabs the clipboard to sign release papers. “Hopefully I won’t see you in here anytime soon.” 

“I’m not promising anything. Thanks, Dr. Cullen.” You give him a small smile, and pull back the curtains.

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

You hop onto the scratchy seats in Bella’s truck, giving her a small smile as a thanks. She doesn’t respond, just puts the vehicle in drive and pulls out of the hospital pick up zone. The cab is thick with awkward silence. You clear your throat, preparing yourself to speak to her. 

“So I met Dr. Cullen. He said you’re dating his son, uh, what was his name?” Your eyebrows furrow, hard on concentrating. She makes a quick glance in your direction, fighting off a small smile on her face.

“Edward?” She asks, amused. Things seem to be going well for the first time you two had talked without a fight breaking out. 

“Psh, Edward Shmedward.” You say, throwing your hand forward as if dismissing something. She blows air out of her nose, the closest thing to a laugh you were sure you’d be able to get out of her. “Yeah, him. His dad looks like a freakin’ god. Like, some mystical shit is going on here.”

“You should see the rest of his kids.” She adds. After that, you can feel she’s over the conversation already. You don’t mind, of course. It’s better to stop before your luck runs out anyway. After a short drive, she pulls into the driveway. You unbuckle your seatbelt, but she doesn’t move to unbuckle hers. 

“Aren’t you coming?” You ask, sitting with your feet dangling out of the tall truck. 

She sighs. “I’m going to Edward’s.” And with that you nod and hop out, closing the door behind you. You could use this to your advantage, you’d be able to unpack without an angsty Bella hovering over your shoulder. You approach the front door, kicking the doormat out of the way to pluck the key off of the cold concrete. 

Opening the front door, you call out. “Ch- Dad?” Knowing it’d fall on deaf ears, you sigh. Charlie was almost never home, and Bella didn’t seem to mind, but you actually missed your dad. You two used to watch every baseball game together, he used to coach your T-Ball little league. You never knew him as Chief Swan, just dad. After you and Bella got older, Bella got more and more reluctant to return to rainy Forks. Your mom refused to let you board a plane by yourself, so you gave up and just stopped. You would have returned to your dad when Bella did, if there wasn’t something holding you back in Phoenix. What that was, you have no clue. Just a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach. But all of that was in the past now. It was time to start over, and you looked forward to being able to breathe again. You just wanted to breathe. 

Sun spills into the quiet room that Bella resides, warmth filling the air like a thick fog. It was a rare occurrence, one that you knew most people were outside taking advantage of. You walk over to the window sill, your hand reaching to unlatch the locks on the paint-peeled wood. As fresh air fills the room, you glance at Bella’s dresser- that she now has to share with you. You unzip your suitcase, knowing that there wasn’t much inside of it. The contents being mostly underwear, socks, bras, and leggings. A mostly squeezed out tube of toothpaste laid neatly on top of the chaos, somehow unfazed by the rough plane ride it had endured. You grab your toiletries, walking to the bathroom to place them in the small spot Charlie had cleared out. Returning to the bedroom, you place your pillow and stuffed animal on the twin bed Charlie had managed to fit in the small space. There was barely any room to walk around on the floor anymore, it was just a bed, a dresser, and another bed. A small desk too. 

The sun begins to set as you finally get settled. You had typed out a short email to your mom, started unthawing chicken breasts for dinner, and done a small load of laundry. Now you sat reclining on the couch, watching whichever MLB game was playing tonight. A few minutes before your dad got home, Bella walked through the door. 

“Hey.” You greet. She ignores you, walking into the kitchen. You turn down the volume on the TV. 

“Is this for dinner tonight?” Bella calls out. 

“Yeah, I found a cool recipe in a magazine at the hospital.” You answer. She snorts, clearly finding something you said amusing. 

“Charlie told me he’s gonna be out late tonight. Told us not to wait up.” She says. Sadness pinches at your heart. 

“Oh.” You stand and put the chicken back in the refrigerator.

“Don’t take it personal, he does this a lot.” She reassures. You nod, giving her a small smile. Sitting back down on the couch, this time with a box of cereal in hand, you return the volume to its prior setting and lose yourself in the world of baseball. Sometime after the clock read 9:30 PM, your eyes began to droop, and you found yourself nodding off. Soon, you succumbed to the dark warmth calling your name.

[pl-panda]

Damienette aranged marriage: part 3

Whoa... Two parts in one day. Sorry if this one is worse, but yet again I wrote this instead of sleeping. 

Warning: there will be some cursing from Jason, but can you really blame him? Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1

Previous

Next

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 3

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“And why would you tell her everything?!” Jason screamed, still hidden behind Batman’s towering posture.

“Because she is my wife Todd!” Damian screamed. The silence in the room was thick enough that if the assassin swinged his sword, he would be able to cut it in half. Finally, Bruce was the one to break it.

“Fuck.”

This worked like detonating a bomb. Immediately, Red Hood, Red Robin and Nightwing pushed their way into the room and surrounded the two teens. 

“You were gone for less than forty-eight hours!” Dick

“How did you manage to get married!” Drake

“You are just fifteen demon spawn!” Todd

“And who is she!?” Drake again.

Talia watched this whole ordeal with no small amount of amusement. That is until Bruce suddenly appeared next to her. His frown was downright scary even for her. “Explain. Now!” The growl was low and emotionless, but it was enough to yet again put the room in dead silence.

“Beloved. It is good to see you too.” Talia smiled seductively.

“I am not in the mood. Now talk!”

“Fine.” She dropped all illusion of niceness. “I made peace with old enemy of the League. Or even a shaky alliance. But to seal the treaty, an assurance was required.”

“And that assurance was?” Jason asked confused, earning a facepalm from Dick.

“The Royal Marriage. An heir of the League and future leader of the Order.”

“And that leader would be… her?” Batman asked, not fully convinced.

Marinette was standing there the whole time, greatly uncomfortable with the attention Bat Family was giving her and Damian. She did read a bit on them, but it was always Alya who never shut up about heroes. For the most part, she preferred talk about Ladybug, but lately there was slowly forming a rift. The aspiring reporter was falling into Lila’s lies, posting unreliable videos on Ladyblog. Rossi had it for Ladybug and Alya, together with the rest of Marinette’s class, was falling for her machinations. They still hanged out with Marinette, but there was this distaste forming around her. She was no longer their to-go person with personal problems, being replaced by Lila who was awful at helping others unless it benefited her. But now Marinette had more pressing matter than a pity little liar. She looked at Batman, then at the bat-kids and finally at Damian. They were all looking at her expectantly.

“Oh right! Sorry. I did it again…” She gave them a sheepish smile. “I am Ladybug, hero of Paris and Great Guardian of the Miraculous.” She stated. Most of the heroes (bar Damian who knew a tidy bit about the Order of the Guardians) were confused.

“Paris doesn’t have heroes. There aren’t even any supervillains there.”

“Excuse me?! How does nobody knows what is going on in Paris!” Ladybug shouted. “Ugh! Seriously?!”

Batman narrowed his eyes. “Forgive me, Ladybug, but the Justice League would know if there was a threat in Paris. So who are you really.”

“Then ask Green Lantern. He was the one who laughed at my plea for help.” She scowled, but then her demeanor changed. She calmed down and gave a sheepish smile. “But guess I should thank him. I can only dread what would happen if Superman was akumatized. Or Flash. Or anyone really. I don’t think I could win.”

Batman frowned. He would have a talk with Hal once he dealt with this. If there was really a threat like that, ignoring it was not only stupid, but dangerous. And the girl was at best Damian’s age. She was dealing with this for how long? The way she spoke suggested that she was in charge. A child fighting in a war all alone. 

“For now beloved, it should be enough for you that the two of them are legally married.”

“Like hell!” Jason shouted at her, waving his gun. “They are fifteen. No court would accept this.”

“Actually,” Tim started, “under some laws they can be married. For example ‘The Personal Status Law of Muslims’ in Sudan sets the minimum age at ten.” He spoke like he was reading an encyclopedia.

“But we are somewhere between Nepal and China. I don’t think there are such laws here.” Dick said, but his confidence wavered.”

“Tt. First of why don’t anyone ask me or Marinette about our opinion?” Damian asked irritated.

“Shut up Demon Spawn. Adults are working here”

“If you don’t shut up, Todd, I will make you eat your dirty socks until you choke on the stench.” The young boy threatened. Marinette cringed at this, not really wanting to imaging such situation. 

“The marriage stays.” Talia stated coldly. “Otherwise, I will not be able to stop League from going to war against Order of the Guardians.”

“You are their leader.” Batman pointed out.

“That may be correct, beloved, but I am but a regent. Only after Damian finally assumes the leadership, his word will be law. I do try to reform the league, but there is little I can do in this situation.”

“Bullshit!” Jason cursed. “You are just manipulative bitch.”

“Jason!” Dick hit the back of Red Hood’s helmet, causing him to almost tumble. “Language. There are minors in the room.”

“Don’t worry Mousier.” Marinette noted that the whole debate shifted to English. She learned it years ago when she first got interested in fashion. Some of the greatest fashion critiques wrote only in English and she didn’t want to be left behind. And other foreign critiques and designers were always translated into English. “After today, cursing is the least of my worries.” During the talk, Marinette pulled her yo-yo to check the situation in Paris. The good news were that there was no Akuma attack since her confrontation with Hawkmoth. Bad news: she was gone for over forty hours already.

“What exactly is the deal?” Bruce sighted. He loved his boys, but he could practically feel his hair graying. At least the girls didn’t go around marrying total strangers. “I want the full story Talia. Don’t even try to deceive us.”

“As you wish Beloved.” She smiled and sat back at her chair. Jason was about to hop onto where Marinette sat, but Damian ‘accidentally’ tripped him. Ladybug detransformed and Tikki flew out. 

“What is this flying mouse?!” Dick screeched upon seeing a kwami.

“My name is Tikki. I am kwami, or if you prefer a small god, of creation and luck.” 

“Okay… I’ve totally seen weirder.” Jason shrugged and Tim was too busy trying to plug in his pocket kettle to make himself some coffee.

“Ekhm.” Bruce faux-coughted to get their attention. “Begin Talia.”

“Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created. These were... the Miraculous. Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race. Order of The Guardians was responsible for protecting and distributing the Miraculous for the good of all humanity. Some time in the past, League has learned about the existence of this artifacts, more powerful than even Lazarus Pit. A secret war began between two organizations. There was a constant stalemate until the Order was mysteriously destroyed without a trace. We believed all miraculous to be lost until two years ago heroes and villains using them appeared in Paris. Initially, we ignored them, long since abandoning this war. But then, some month ago a temple of the Guardians suddenly reappeared with the Order in chaos. The League attacked, but they were strong enough to withstand the initial strike and turn it into a siege. In time, we would have succeeded and wiped them once and for all. But instead, the Guardians understood their situation and reached to us with agreement. A truce and alliance, in exchange for sparing them.”

“Yeah right! Only an idiot would take such offer!” Red Hood kept arguing with the Assassin woman.

“Or a strategist. Either way, the League wins. They no longer need to worry about threat, but this way they also get an ally.” Batman remained expressionless, but he kept sending Damian and Marinette side-glares. He wanted to know how they are coping with this. The girl was a bit shaken, but that was to be expected. He would talk more with her later. What surprised him was that Damian seemed to show concern for her. The kind he usually reserved only for his brothers and father. 

“Yes. While our methods differ, the League and the Order have a common goal: prosperity for all humanity. But to ensure that neither side would go against the other, there needed to be a more tangible symbol of this union.”

“Marriage of the heirs. In the past such method was often used to symbolize an alliance. It symbolized equality of both partners and parties they represented.” Tim acted as an universal encyclopedia again, which Jason did exploit to tease him mercilessly while the others focused on the discussion.

“And let me guess” Dick frowned. “If they break the deal, it means war?”

“Yes.” Damian simply nodded. The memory of his mother’s threat hanging over the girl’s live was still fresh. Now that he got to know her better Damian was surprised that someone so brave and strong could at the same time be such emotionally unstable or open. It was almost refreshing. His family was awful with emotions and beyond that women only saw his last name. Many times he dealt with liars who tried to use him to get into the pockets of his father. But with Marinette he was sure that she was genuine with her feelings. He could not find any reason for her not to be at the moment, especially after she revealed her secret to him. 

“So what? We are just supposed to roll with it? What will press think? You will give Alfred a heart attack Damian.” Dick rambled. Youngest Wayne decided to ignore him and turn to his father. 

“While this might be a bit inconvenient, I believe it is the best course of action for now.” Damian spoke with cold and calculative voice.

“And what about you?” Batman turned to the girl, who for the most part lately was busy discussing something with the kwami in French. Bruce was proficient, but he was too focused on Talia and Damian.

“I… I accepted that my duty as Great Guardian comes with certain responsibilities. If this is what it takes to preserve peace, then I guess… I guess I will roll with it.” She smiled at Dick, almost daringly. Damian smiled too. Anyone who teased his brothers like that earned some points in his book. “But I can’t just leave Paris. For now it’s peaceful, but I don’t know how long it will last. And there are my parents… Oh Kwami! What will I tell my parents! Or my friends! Or my class! What if they reject me for this and I will be kicked from home, then I will not become a professional designer and I will never fulfill my dream and I will be forever lonely…” She unintentionally rambled in mixture of English and French while walking in circle and waving her hands. Damian grabbed her by her wrists to stop her before she accidentally knocked someone out and then cupped her hands with his. She was still talking random stuff, which made absolutely zero sense. Damn. She is cute when she is rambling. What!? He shut down the intrusive thoughts and focused on the girl… his wife.

“Calm down. Take deep breaths. You will not be alone.” He hoped it would work, but she barely slowed down. He sighted. Damian looked her deep in her bluebell eyes and she saw the two whirlpools of jade green he had. They were more prominent that Adrien’s. “Listen to my voice. All is going to be fine. We will not leave you.” This time, it did work and she calmed down. 

Rest of the Batfam watched in shock how Damian has acted. It was most unusual for him to initiate physical contact at all, much less act this gentle. They looked at Talia, but she shrugged.

“I didn’t do anything if that’s what you think.” She smirked. “But I don’t think I needed.” Two newly-wed were just standing there, starring in each other’s eyes.

“Robin!” Batman finally got him to break out of this. “We gotta go. We will figure out exactly what to do later.”

“Fine. But we are taking Marinette with us.” Damian stubbornly stated.

“Yes. She should not stay here. And I have more questions for her.”

The flight to Paris was surprisingly fast. They traveled in perfect silence, but she felt rather uncomfortable with how everyone (bar Damian) sent her a suspicious glares. Finally, they landed around 8 PM on the rooftop of local Wayne Enterprises headquarter. She walked out first, happy to finally get back onto her home turf.

“Now there are some questions that needs to be answered.” Batman spoke.

“Uhm… Okay?”

“Stop intimidating her Father.” Damian scowled. 

Bruce reluctantly nodded. “Maybe it would be the best to discuss it in private of my office.” He pressed some buttons on his glove and the bat-plane camouflage. Well, it was probably more of Bat-cargo plane since it could fit six people comfortably and still have much space free. 

They got into the office, where Bruce had a total of five armchairs set around the coffee table. Immediately, Damian and Dick took two of them, leaving the head one for Bruce and one in between the two Waynes for Marinette. Tim didn’t bother trying to fight with Jason over who gets the last place, instead opting to just jump onto computer chair at the desk and activating a holo-screen. He quickly connected to Batcomputer and started to pull various files (mostly on Marinette and her close ones, but she didn’t see it). 

“So tell me. What is our young couple planning to do now?” Dick teased them.

Jason was standing next to the alcohol bar, pouring several glasses of whiskey. Before Bruce could protest, he brought five and placed them on the table. His reaction to disapproving glare from the other adults was to just shrug. “What? They are married. I think underage drinking would be the least of the problems. Oh! That reminds me.” Jason grinned maliciously and pulled his wallet. He tossed something square and silver at Damian. “I don’t want any demon spawns junior running around soon.”

Once Marinette realized what was that and what was he implying she turned redder than Tim’s outfit. Damian scowled. “I have a sword on me Todd, so watch what you are saying. I might not have chosen her to be my bride, but I will not let you embarrass her just for your fun.”

Jason saw an opportunity and he would be damned if he didn’t take it. “Which sword are you talking about?”

Damian hissed like an angry cat and drawn his sword, lunging at his brother. Todd initially wanted to block the attack with his gun, but fine steel cut right through it. Seeing murder in Damian’s face he did the only plausible thing: started to run.

Marinette was inventing new shades of red with her blushing. Bruce gave her an apologetic look. “Please, don’t take his comments to heart. Jason is…” before batman could find a right word there was a sound of something crashing, followed by a painful yelp. In just a moment, Damian returned happy, his sword a bit bloody.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill him…” Dick begged. Marinette was not sure whether this was a joke or not, but the longer she stayed with the batfam, the less sane they appeared.

“Nah. But he didn’t look where he was running and toppled the stack of boxes and I ended up stabbing him in his left calf. He will live.” Damian assured them. And true to his words, a limping Jason appeared in the doors. He grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey on his way to the armchair and slumped resigned. “Demon spawn!”

“Idiot!”

“Enough!” Bruce wanted to pull his hair out. “We came here to discuss a certain situation not stab each other. Marinette?”

“Yes monsieur Wayne?” She asked, still stunned with what happened. She had to admit Damian acter chiviliarus protecting her honor, even if his way was pretty violent. 

“I was trying to ask you, what do you plan on doing now?”

“I… I don’t know. This all happened so fast…”

“It’s okay. I don’t think anyone would have a plan for such situation.” Dick reassured her

“Bruce does. It’s inside the safe in the batcave in folder labeled ‘Talia never gives up’.” Tim chimed in before returning to his research. 

“Well, no one sane has such plans.” Dick tried to cheer her up. It did work even if just a bit. “But ask yourself what do you want.”

“Well… I would wish to finish my education and I always dreamed about becoming a professional fashion designer.” 

“And how is this plan working so far?” Bruce inquired.

“Well, I do run a small internet boutique, where I take commissions and uncle Jagged refuses to wear anything that wasn’t personally designed by me.” She said casually.

“Wait a moment… Uncle Jagged as in Jagged Stone, the world-class rock musician?!” Tim suddenly shouted.

“Uh… yes?” She got confused

“But his only designer is the mysterious MDC! That would mean you are MDC!”

“Uh… yes?” Marinette had no idea why Tim acted like that.

“Oh god! Oh god! I got to meet MDC! Can I get your authograph?” He was suddenly next to her, holding a copy of the her first album cover she made for Jagged.

“Sure.” She signed it and handed it back. It read: ‘Good luck TD, MDC’.

Tim Fainted.

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)

@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 

[snakeboistan]

Pairing: Sugino x Nagisa

This is kinda based on this headcanon I read a few months back that said that Sugino loves it when Nagisa sings for him

The song I used is ‘I Like You So Much, You’ll Know It’ by Ysabelle Cuevas because it’s so wholesome and adorable and I love it bc I reminded me so much of SugiNagi

“It’s okay, Sugino,” Nagisa said softly as he continued to card his fingers through the raven strands that sat on his boyfriend’s head. He sat cross-legged on the pale yellow tablecloth they were using as a makeshift picnic blanket with Sugino lying on the ground beside him with his head resting on the blunette’s lap. Surrounding them were boxes filled with sushi and grilled chicken breast, his and Sugino’s favourite foods respectively. The ebony haired boy just hummed non committedly, refusing to say anything in response, causing the older to sigh. The dejection the baseball lover possessed was so evident that it was palpable and all it took was one single glance at the way Sugino’s head hung low after the match ended, at the way those navy eyes he loved so much looked so downcast even from where he was sitting in the bleachers, for Nagisa to wrap the taller boy in a hug. 

“Sugino,” Nagisa said when he approached the boy, who was sitting on a bench that sat at the perimeter of the playing field. The plastic water bottle in the tan-skinned boy's hand looked like it was going to break under that crushing grip, “come on, let’s go.”

“I don’t really feel like doing anything right now, Nagisa,” Sugino murmured, still refusing to look up. Nagisa could feel the cracks forming in his heart at the sight of the other boy, who’s usual puppy-like enthusiasm never failed to put a smile on his face, looking so disheartened. He crouched down in an attempt to meet the other’s gaze.

“Come on, Sugino. I brought chicken breast. Your favourite,” no response, “please can you just come with me, just for a moment. You don’t have to do anything or speak or anything you don’t feel comfortable doing but I don’t want to leave you alone. Not now, not ever so can you please come? For me?”

The hopeful inflection of his voice was able to make the baseball lover look at him. The expression of pure sadness was still evident on his face, “Shindo-”

“I spoke with him and he says that it’s okay for you to leave without the team.”

Sugino looked at Nagisa, giving the shorter boy a once over and taking in how the blunette was decked out in a too big baseball jersey - his spare baseball jersey - with his high school’s name and his number on it. The small smile that was being offered to him seemed to make him crack. He exhaled deeply, “sure, Nagisa. I’ll go with you.”

So that’s how they ended up here, having a picnic in a small clearing in the middle of a sunflower field, basking under the late afternoon Tokyo sun. It was actually supposed to be a surprise. Earlier that day when Nagisa was packing the bag he was going to bring with him to watch Sugino’s baseball match against a rival high school, he was sure that a nice late lunch-slash-early dinner in the field he found near the school on Google Maps would be a great way to congratulate the other teenager for winning a game after weeks of hard work at practice, he was even going to make a congratulatory cake - which in hindsight was a good idea to scrap since, well...

“It’s not, Nagisa,” Sugino whispered, “If I didn’t throw that lousy pitch the other school wouldn’t have got the point. Now my team can’t go to Nationals and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is,” Sugino’s sadness was so overpowering that it made even the proudly standing sunflowers that encompassed them seem to wilt miserably, “you were there in the stands, you saw what happened. My pitch wasn’t good enough and the other team scored the winning point because of it. I had one job and I messed that up.”

“Just because you lost once doesn’t mean that it’s the end,” Nagisa said, “You’re one of the most talented people I know. So what if you fell down? Just pick yourself up and continue. And if you can’t get up by yourself then you have me and everyone else around to get you off the floor. Sugino, I’ve known you for months and I don’t think I’ve met anyone that’s as passionate about baseball as you. You’re going to make it to Kōshien, I know it. You’re going to get recruited for the Nippon Professional Baseball League, beat and impress every single player out there like Arita, play for Japan in the MLB All-Stars and show the world just what Sugino Tomohito is capable of.”

Sugino scoffed, “yeah right. Pitching is what I’m the best at but it turns out that I can’t even do that without flopping. God, what will everyone think of me.”

“Everyone has their off-days,” Nagisa reassured dulcetly, “and it’s just one high school match. There’ll be other opportunities.”

“But this was the match that would’ve sent us to the National Championship and I screwed it up. I’m such a mess up,” Sugino whispered, sounding like he was about to cry. Ignoring Nagisa’s own soft words of ‘No, you’re not’, he continued, “why do you even like me so much?”

For a moment Nagisa was quiet, pausing his movements, and his silence made the stone that was sitting heavily in Sugino’s stomach grow and grow into a boulder, his insecurities increasing with intensity. His eyes started to close, in an attempt to block everything out, to not see the look that Nagisa was wearing.

“I like your eyes, you look away when you pretend not to care.”

Sugino’s eyes snapped open at the soft melody that sounded so similar he could tell the source from anywhere with his eyes closed. He looked up at the blue-haired boy to find him looking down at him with that small fond smile that never fails to make his heart flutter and breath catch. Nagisa opened his mouth again to whisper out the next verse, resuming the process of running his pale fingers through inky black hair.

“I like the dimples on the corners of the smile that you wear.

I like you more, the world may know but don't be scared

'Cause I'm falling deeper, baby, be prepared.”

Sugino must have looked dumbstruck, with his eyes wide and jaw slack as he continued to gaze up at the petite boy wearing his spare oversized baseball jersey and who had the voice of an angel. Holy sh*t why does Nagisa have to be so frickin adorable, this isn’t fair!

“I like your shirt, I like your fingers,” Nagisa gently took Sugino’s hand and pressed a chaste kiss onto the skin between the joints and knuckles of his index and middle fingers before nuzzling his cheek onto them, “love the way that you smell.”

“To be your favorite jacket, just so I could always be near

I loved you for so long, sometimes it's hard to bear

But after all this time, I hope you wait and see.”

At the last word, Nagisa pulled lightly onto the hand that he was holding as he got up. Sugino followed the silent instruction, wondering what the other was planning before he was gently led away from their picnic and towards the rows of sunflowers that surrounded them. Nagisa had managed to hold onto both of his hands and was walking backwards, pulling the other along with both his soft tugging and the sugar sweet tune he was singing.

“Love you every minute, every second

Love you everywhere and any moment

Always and forever I know I can't quit you

'Cause, baby, you're the one, I don't know how”

Like a moth drawn to a flame, Sugino found himself trailing towards his own beacon of blue irises that held a shine so captivating it would put the stars to shame. He remembered how when he was in Elementary school, one of his classmates was interested in mythical creatures and would talk about how sirens would lure pirates to their deaths with their songs. Well, he would gladly jump off a ship and drown if the last thing he saw was Nagisa’s bright eyes and the last thing he heard was his honey-like voice. They were just walking along as if they were the only people in the world, making their way past the sunflowers that were so tall that they overtook the blue-haired boy. However, despite being the smallest thing in this vast field of flowers, Nagisa’s presence seemed to be the largest, most powerful being and Sugino was (not so) surprised to find that the sadness that seemed to fill him earlier was completely replaced by this feeling of complete euphoria - all because of this absolutely amazing person called Shiota Nagisa.

“I love you 'til the last of snow disappears

Love you 'til a rainy day becomes clear

Never knew a love like this, now I can't let go

I'm in love with you, and now you know”

“Nagisa,” Sugino laughed breathlessly, feeling completely powerless against the unstoppable force that was his boyfriend’s love and affection, “what’s this all about?”

“You asked me why I like you,” Nagisa giggled, azure eyes twinkling like the ocean under a sunset, “now hush, I’m not done.”

The boy started to sway their interlocked hands sideways as he picked up where he left off, “I like the way you try so hard when you play ball with your friends

I like the way you hit the notes, in every song you're shining

I love the little things, like when you're unaware

I catch you steal a glance and smile so perfectly”

Sugino found himself yelping when Nagisa unceremoniously pulled on his hands, bringing him closer to the shorter boy. Suddenly, he felt soft palms cup his cheek and tilting his head so that he was looking straight down at Nagisa’s beaming face.

“Though sometimes when life brings me down

You're the cure, my love

In a bad rainy day

You take all the worries away”

And now they were dancing. By themselves. In the middle of the endless rows of sunflowers. Well, it was less actual dancing and more of the two of them spinning and propelling each other in a circle and making jerking movements with their hands, but Sugino found himself laughing so hard that tears were seeping out of the corners of his eyes (although, those tears might be more to do with how much he loves Nagisa than him actually laughing but semantics)

“Love you every minute, every second

Love you everywhere and any moment

Always and forever I know I can't quit you

'Cause, baby, you're the one, I don't know how

In a world devoid of life, you bring colors

In your eyes I see the light, my future

Always and forever I know, I can't let you go

I'm in love with you, and now you know”

When Nagisa finished, Sugino couldn’t take it anymore and he just pulled the shorter boy into a crushing embrace, “you’re really awesome, you know that right? And an amazing boyfriend.”

He could feel the other smile against the cotton of his shirt as slender arms returned the hug, “I’m just glad that you’re happier now.”

“How could I possibly be unhappy if I have you?”

“Ah-I-” 

“Nagisa?” Sugino leaned back a bit and found that Nagisa had pressed his face right into his chest, refusing to look at him, “are-are you okay?”

“Yes,” was the high-pitched reply. Sugino gripped onto the blunette’s shoulders and gently pulled him back to see that the other’s face was so red that they could rival the sweatbands that sat on his wrists.

“Uh, Nagisa, you good?”

“Yep, I’m fine,” Nagisa squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut nodding his head so rapidly that Sugino thought that he’d get a headache.

“Are you sure because you’re-”

“Yep, one hundred percent.”

“Nagisa,” Sugino huffed out a laugh as he poked the other’s cheek, hoping to get the blunette to actually look at him, “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I-I’m not embarrassed,” he said defensively, finally opening his eyes so that he could pout at the taller boy, whispering, “I-I just-you can’t just say stuff like that, alright.”

“What? Stuff like how you are the most incredibly amazing boyfriend ever and you always know how to make me happy.”

“Sugino!” Nagisa whisper-yelled as he buried his face into his hands.

Sugino laughed, prying Nagisa’s fingers away from his face, “come on. You can sing an entire song about how much you love me but I can’t give you one compliment.”

“That’s different.”

“How?!”

“I-I just-why don’t we just go back to our picnic. We don’t want crows getting to our sushi and chicken.”

Sugino smiled fondly and patted Nagisa on his head, “sure thing, Nagisa.”

Together they walked back with linked hands.

I'm in love with you, and now you know

[lovemalecforever]

Chapter 6

Lightwoods Reunion

The golden rays of the morning sun shone through the windows into their room, breaking the darkness and making it naturally bright.

Alec stirred when the rays fell on his face. He opened his sleepy eyes, only to find a hand tightly wrapped around his waist, a face buried in his chest and their legs entangled with each other. A warm smile crept on his face as he carefully untangled himself, making sure not to wake his precious warlock then left for the bathroom.

When Magnus didn't find the warm body beside him, he stirred and slowly woke up. Noticing that the other side of the bed was empty he started to panic but the sound of running water made him relaxed. Turning on his side, he gazed out of the window, the golden rays encaptivating his mind as he got lost in his deep thoughts.

Fifteen minutes later, Alec walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his lower body and hair wet, leaned down, and pecked Magnus on the temple.

"Morning love."

"Morning darling!" Magnus sat upright, leaned up, and pouted, earning a soft kiss over his pouting lips. While cherishing those lips he snapped his fingers and vanished the towel earning a cute yelp from his shadowhunter.

"Magnus!"

Magnus grinned and pulled his husband down, locking their lips in a hungry kiss. "Stay...."

"Sorry love, as much as I love that I'm getting late."

"Please?"

A sad smile formed on Alec's lips. "I can't, Magnus. I want to, but I really can't."

Magnus sighed. "Okay... I'll prepare breakfast then while you get ready."

"I'll have it at the Institute, I'm running late." He quickly got dressed with the help of his shadowhunter speed as he was actually getting late.

"When did you-"

"Shadowhunter!" Magnus looked at him wide-eyed then sighed.

"Sorry love, I'll see you tonight, bye." he planted a soft kiss on the top of his head then rushed out of the flat.

Magnus gazed out of the bedroom as he remembered the nightmare he had. The nightmare which turned true a month ago, the day when Alec almost died. If Jace and Isabelle hadn't reached on time, he would have lost his Alexander forever. He felt useless that he wasn't able to help him. He was in his arms, dying, and he couldn't do anything.

Tears started forming in the back of his eyes, he sighed and closed his eyes and a few drops fell on his cheeks.

*********************

When Alec reached the Institute he went to the institute's library straight ahead, telling everyone that it was important and not to disturb him when in reality he was researching further about the immortality spell and Kasper Windermere. He found a few books and took them to his office.

*Time Skip/ Few hours later*

Alec was in his office reading those books and researching more about them when he heard a soft click of heels approaching his office. A smile formed on his lips at the familiar sound.

"Hello, big brother!" Izzy said as she walked inside the office.

"Izzy!" he got up and embraced his sister in a tight hug.

"So! Hiding things from Magnus? You think that's gonna work out?" she asked when they broke the hug.

"It's working fine till now!" he shrugged earning a glare.

"What!?"

"That's why you need me to cover up for you?" She raised her brow and crossed her arms above her chest.

Alec bit his lip and sighed. "Fine Izzy! You know I'm not good at surprises, but I really want to this time. And... well it's not that I'm not getting help... So..."

"And who is that apart from me?" She said trying to sound upset.

"It's Catarina."

"Oh! Okay, so what are you planning Alec? Spill it..." Alec was about to say something when she spoke again, rearranging all the documents that were kept on his desk simultaneously. "So much paperwork... Don't you get tired, big brother?"

Alec froze when she picked the documentations on Kasper.

"Izzy! No! That's not..." Izzy's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped on the floor. "Ahhh..... Um mm... Paperworks." He stuttered and his heartbeats quickened as he witnessed millions of emotions flashing on his sister's face within a second.

He waited for her response, but when the silence got the better of him, he cleared his throat, his heart ready to leap out of his chest at any moment. "Uh... Izzy? Please say something!" this wasn't in the plan of events and the silence was getting under his skin.

"Alec! You want to become immortal!?"

"y...yes...."

"Oh! By the angel!" She shrieked, ran towards Alec, and hugged him tightly.

Alec breathed out with relief but was confused at the same time. "Iz! You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad, Alec? Yes, I'm a little shocked, but if that's what you want, you know I'm always there for you." she pulled out of the hug, tiptoed, and pecked his cheek.

"Thank you, Izzy! It means a lot."

"Is THIS your big surprise for him?" She asked teasingly.

"There are few more but yes."

She raised her brow as she kept examining the documentations. "More?"

"Yeah! I'm thinking about a dinner surprise, a gift with an anniversary card, and a photo frame with all the pics of our anniversaries starting from our wedding collaged together."

Izzy's jaw was dropped on the floor yet again.

"Who are you and what have you done to my brother!!??"

"I'm Alexander Lightwood Bane and well, Magnus Bane happened!"

Izzy laughed. "Hmm... Magnus got you good then, big brother."

She shuffled through some papers for some time then spoke again. "A half angel and half Shadowhunter? Aren't you that already?"

"Well yes but not literally, I'm mortal, I'm not literally an angel!"

"How exactly have you came up with this Alec?"

"You know what happened a month ago, Izzy. I... Magnus is not doing well since then. He cries behind my back, he's not happy even when he shows he is. he gets nightmares of the day. I didn't know at first, he tried hiding it from me but when it started getting worse I made him talk to me, that's when he told me about them. He still gets them, pretends that he's completely fine, but I know he's not. I know he's worried about me dying one day, and I am not able to see him like this, this weak, this is not the Magnus I know, I want to do something for him." He paused for a minute then spoke again.

"I'm researching about becoming immortal since the time I heard him crying and saying how miserable he will be if I die. I thought about talking to him but when I noticed him pushing me away I knew he'll become more secretive if I did, which will end up in him getting more hurt than he is now. And well, when I read about the half angel and half Shadowhunter thing, I was sure I wanted to do it as by this spell," he pointed towards the stack of papers "I will be what I am, and I'll provide Magnus what he wants. All I want is for him to be happy. No matter what it takes."

Izzy listened to him carefully, completely awestruck by his love for Magnus. "You know what big brother, Magnus is a hell of a lucky man to have you in his life. If he'll ever hurt you I swear-"

"Iz!"

"Relax Alec, you know I love you both!"

Alec simply shook his head, sighed, and leaned against the desk.

"When are going to tell everyone about it?" she questioned further.

"Once I'll gather the information about the complete spell and how to perform it I'll ask everyone, Catarina is looking wherever she can, and I'm looking at the library and wherever possible."

"So you didn't plan on telling me about it today?" She gestured towards his desk.

"Umm... No, but I'm glad I did."

A warm smile appeared on Izzy's face. "Well, where are we going for lunch?"

He glanced at the time, noticing that it's past 12 already. "Wherever you want."

"Simon took me to a great restaurant here, let's head there, It's an amazing place."

They headed towards the restaurant Izzy had told him, ordered their food, and to Alec's surprise, he actually liked it and thought about coming with Magnus once.

"So apart from becoming immortal, what other things are you planning? And how can I help?"

"I want to plan a surprise dinner by the lakeside of Lynn and since Magnus is Indonesian, I want the whole menu to be Indonesian and all the decorations in the way he likes."

"Hmm... I can arrange that, plus the photo frame too... me and Clary can prepare it perfectly."

Alec cocked up his brow at that. "Don't worry big brother, we won't disappoint. What about the gift you were talking about?"

"I wanted to make the gift after becoming immortal, well, since you were the weapons head, I was thinking if you could do it?"

"Me? Oh! By the angel! What is it?" She squealed.

Alec shook his head at her excitement.

"You know Magnus and his love for jewellery, I was thinking a set of 3 diamond rings joined together with silver chains with small cut emeralds on it, the first and third sitting on the base of the fingers, the second one on the middle part of the finger, with the words FOREVER YOUR MLB engraved on each ring separately on top and AKU CINTA KAMU on bottom of the ring, each letter having small cut diamonds on it. Can you do it?"

Izzy's jaw was dropped on the floor for the third time that day and this time, literally. She was staring at her brother wide-eyed.

"Hey! Close your mouth little sister!" He put his fingers below her chin and closed her mouth shut. She blinked twice before speaking again.

"Alec! Are you all right! Is it really you!?"

"Isabelle Lightwood! Yes, it's me, and can you do it? Or I have to look for someone else!"

"By the angel! What has Magnus done to you!? I need to have a talk with him. And yes I'll do it, don't worry."

He laughed hard at her remark. "Thank you, Izzy!" He said in between the laughs.

"Stop laughing Alec!" She hit him gently on his arms.

"Well, how is Simon then? How's his training going?"

"He's doing good, you know what, he had beaten Jace 3 times last week with seraph daggers. I'm really proud of him."

The twinkle in her eyes didn't go unnoticed and a warm smile formed on his lips. He was glad that Simon was the best man to enter his sister's life, no matter how annoying that vampire was. "I'm happy that you're happy Izzy."

"Thank you, big brother!"

They finished the rest of the lunch in silence or chatting about random things and finally left for the Institute.

Alec felt really nice to have his sister beside him and not judging him for his choice to become immortal. He prayed that everyone would react the same. He went to his office and got back on researching for the complete spell, the sooner the better.

[oh-obrien]

Take Me Out

Relationships: Dylan O'Brien x OFC

Word Count: 4,496

Author’s note: Sorry I disappeared y’all and sorry this one’s a little short. I had finals and then I found out my grandpa has cancer so we’re a little bit all over the place, but I’m getting back in the grove. Here’s some baseball and jealous Dylan for you all. All my characters are oc’s as I didn’t want to pull any real life players to use. 

“Imagine liking the Mets,” Cameron mumbled around the white hair tie she held between her teeth. She watched through the mirror while Dylan pulled his jersey on, finishing dutch braiding the left side of her hair at the same time. “Orange and Blue just, it doesn’t go together well at all,” she continued while tying her braid off with the hair tie. 

Dylan rolled his eyes and walked back into the bathroom after he pulled Cameron’s jersey out of the closet, holding it up at an arm's length and wrinkling his nose. “Because pinstripes are any better?” He asked while leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, watching his girlfriend continue to braid her hair. “Tabloids later are going to be like, Dylan O'Brien's girlfriend seen wearing a Yankees jersey at the first game of the Subway Series: Is this the beginning of the end?” He couldn’t hold in his laugh at the end.

Cameron also tried to stop herself from laughing while she sectioned off the hair on the right side of her head, not wanting the braid to be uneven. “Oh god,” she mumbled, “I’m going to have to tweet that everyone needs to remember my dad is one of the coaches for the Yankees,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky he let you stay the first time I brought you home and you had a Mets hat on.” Dylan watched her fingers braiding her hair while she spoke. “At least you don’t care about hockey. It would have been bad if you blurted out you were an Islanders fan too.”

“I remember that!” He started laughing lightly again, his shoulders shaking slightly while he did, “he just grilled me after that.” Dylan remembered the first time he met Cameron’s parents, the week of the Subway Series two years earlier. The pair had been together for only a couple months at the time and Cameron had surprised him with tickets for all three games that year, her dad had also offered that the couple could stay at the family’s house in Sagaponack for the time they were visiting. Dylan and Cameron had pulled up in front of Cameron’s childhood home in a car her dad had hired to drive them out to Sagaponack from MacArthur airport, and Cameron swore she saw Dylan’s jaw hit the floor of the car when they pulled through the front gates.

“He had that custom made, I think it’s a bit much,” Cameron referred to the large wooden Yankees logo that had been put on the front door to their home. “And if you get past that and how huge the house is, actually who am I kidding,” she rolled her eyes while they got out of the car. “I cannot stand this house,” they thanked the driver after he got their suitcases out of the back. “And I can't stand that I spent eighteen years of my life here.”

Dylan snorted at the memory and Cameron cocked her head to the side at his outburst. “You say how much you hated living here when you were younger every time we come out to visit, and I’m just stringing it all together,” he shrugged.

“I also hated going to private school, but clearly something paid off somewhere,” Cameron tied off her second braid, the two falling even in front of her chest. “Because I got into my dream college and then I was somehow lucky enough to bump into you and then got you to sick around long enough to actually tell you my dad coached the Yankees,” she hooked her fingers into the loops of Dylan’s shorts and pulled him closer. 

Dylan pulled his face away from Cameron’s, a tight lipped smirk spreading across his face. “Did it really now?” He asked, watching pout spread across her full lips. “Because if I remember it correctly I actually asked you out that first night,” he brought his hands up to rest on Cameron’s waist, right above the curve of her ass.

“But then for some reason you decided to keep talking to me,” Cameron leaned up slightly to peck Dylan’s lips, “a bunch of sorority girls on a bar crawl after finals and you decided it would be a good idea to talk to me out of that group?” She cocked her head to the side slightly, clearly pressing the issue further in a playful way.

Dylan rolled his eyes and pulled Cameron even closer to him. “Okay so,” he slipped his hands along the line of skin on Cameron’s back that was left uncovered by her white cropped t-shirt, “you were cute, I made a move.” Cameron looked up and gave Dylan a ‘really’ look, knowing a lot of her sorority sisters she had been with were more than cute. “You were cute, and the only one without some basic fruity drink in your hand,” he added the last part.

“Yeah I did look pretty cute that night,” Cameron just shrugged and watched Dylan shake his head at her usual antics. “And then there was you, you looked half dead my dude,” she reminded. Cameron patted Dylan’s chest lightly and pulled away, grabbing her jersey off the counter and pulling it on.

Dylan watched Cameron quickly tie a knot out of the two ends at the front of the jersey instead of buttoning it, letting it hang open most of the way. “I was in the middle of filming an entire movie in sixty days,” he pointed out while Cameron adjusted the knot of the jersey so it would be even with her cropped shirt. “And in my defense I had also filmed twelve hours that day but somehow got convinced to go out!”

Cameron tucked her phone into the pock on her ripped jean shorts, “well I’m glad they convinced you,” she brushed past Dylan and back into her childhood bedroom. She sat down on her bed and pulled her navy converse off the floor, slipping them on before tying them tightly. “You have everything you need?” Cameron turned to face Dylan after she grabbed her RayBans case off her dresser. 

Dylan patted around at his pockets, making sure he had his wallet and phone. “I think I have everything,” he shrugged, “if not it’s not that important.”

“You are so go with the flow it hurts sometimes,” Cameron shook her head and held her hand out for Dylan to take. “C’mon, the car is waiting downstairs and I don’t want to be stuck in rush hour traffic, nothing is worse than the LIE during rush hour!”

“How about the George Washington during rush hour?” Dylan smirked while he spoke, knowing he would get a reaction out of Cameron. She had mentioned numerous times throughout the visits they took to New York how much she hated having to take the GW Bridge to leave the state.

Sliding her fingers through Dylan’s cameron just huffed, squeezing his hand a little harder than she normally would. “Never speak of that godforsaken bridge ever again,” she mumbled as the pair started down the staircase. 

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Dylan watched the beaches of where Cameron grew up slowly fade away as the pair got closer and closer to Queens, suburban neighborhoods turning into taller and more condensed buildings. Of course growing up he had lived quite close to the ‘Big Apple’ himself, but he knew he didn’t visit nearly as often as Cameron did. 

“I practically grew up in Yankee Stadium,” Dylan remembered Cameron telling him on their first date. At the time he had thought that must have been one of the coolest childhoods ever, having a parent who coached an MLB team, but he quickly realized it probably wasn’t as glamorous as it seemed. 

Dylan learned that in the winter months Cameron’s dad would travel with the team for their winter training and there would be an extended period of time where Cameron wouldn't get to see him. Dylan also remembered her noting that it taught her what she didn’t want to be as a parent, and that had been something that had scared him, although he didn’t yet express it. He would often travel for filming or press tours and through Cameron, he realized just how much a parent constantly being away could impact a kid. 

However, kids weren’t yet on the couple’s mind. The pair had met in Louisiana while Dylan had been filming the first movie in The Maze Runner series, and Cameron had been in the process of wrapping up her junior year of college at Louisiana State University playing for their softball team. She had also started to cram for her LSAT’s right before they met. In a fast paced two months which consisted of seeing each other when there had been any time in either of their schedules and texting on the days there wasn’t, the couple had quickly started falling for each other. 

Once Dylan had flown back to Los Angeles after The Maze Runner had wrapped, Cameron found herself reconsidering her law school options and studied even harder for her LSAT’s. After receiving a 178 out of 180 on the test, Cameron had applied to as many law schools as she could, but had her eyes on getting into University of California at Berkeley’s School of Law.

Prior to flying out to New York for the year’s Subway Series between three Mets and Yankees, the couple’s two year anniversary had just passed. Dylan’s career had started to take off even more while Cameron found herself attending law school at UC Berkeley. After quite a few long conversations and consulting with friends and family, the pair had recently decided to settle in a spacious home right outside of Los Angeles together. With Cameron in her second year of Law School and already receiving job offers for after graduation and Dylan’s career only growing, they both knew that they wouldn’t be leaving the area for quite awhile. 

“You’re thinking pretty hard over there O’Brien,” Cameron laughed lightly while she drummed her fingers lightly on his thigh. Dylan took a moment to regain his thoughts before he looked out the window, realizing that their car had pulled off on to the exit that would take them to Citi Field. “Pretty sure I saw some steam coming out of your ears,” she pulled his Mets cap off his head and ran her fingers through his hair. 

Dylan leaned into Cameron’s touch but let out a small huff in protest of her previous statement, “believe me,” he closed his eyes, “if anyone is going to be thinking that hard it’s going to be you.” Cameron just smiled and smoothed her boyfriend’s hair down again, settling his hat back on his head while their car pulled around the back of Citi Field. 

Watching as Dylan’s eyes took in the sights around them Cameron just shook her head while the driver pulled up near the coaches and players entrance. Sometimes it amazed her just how starstruck certain things could get her boyfriend and she wasn’t sure if she would ever fully understand it. He had nearly everything he ever wanted in his reach, but coming to Citi Field would always make his face light up like a kid in a candy store. “Let’s go, Superstar,” Cameron pushed open the door to the Suburban and held her hand out for Dylan to take. “It’s just Queens, basically still the Island.”

Threading their fingers together, the couple thanked their driver before approaching the entrance where two security guards stood, chatting with each other while leaning against the wall of the stadium. Cameron reached into one of the back pockets of her shorts with her free hand and pulled out the passes that would give them access to nearly anywhere they wanted inside Citi Field. 

Cameron held the passes up and the security guards waved them past with kind smiles. She scanned hers on the pad next to the door and heard the heavy metal lock click open before she grabbed the handle. “I want to go see my dad and brother before the game,” Cameron looked over to Dylan who let out an over dramatic goran. “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “all the guys know I’m dating a,” she fake gagged, “a Mets fan.” Untangling their hands Dylan reached over to pinch Cmaeron on the ass which made her squeak and quickly take off down the hallway they were in. 

“Oh fuck off!” Dylan laughed making sure he saw what direction Cameron had taken off in, following a safe distance behind. He just shook his head while following the directions that would lead them both to the visitor’s locker room. He also assumed that after years of attending Subway Series games Cameron probably didn’t need the directions around Citi field for herself anymore. 

Cameron found herself jogging through the hallways of Citi Field, leaving enough distance between her and Dylan that he couldn’t catch her easily but could still follow her so he wouldn’t get lost. She looked behind her to make sure she could still see Dylan before she turned the last corner that would lead to the visitor locker room before crashing into a hard body. “Shit!” She felt a pair of hands catch her waist so she didn’t trip.

“Yeah what the fuck, Cam?” Carson, Cameron’s older brother, asked while he steadied his sister on her feet. Carson has his jersey half buttoned and his cap sat backwards on his head, a smile spreading across his face “And where’s Dylan? You can’t let him get lost in here,” Carson let out a long sigh, hoping his sister’s boyfriend didn’t actually get lost in the depth of Citi Field.

Cameron rolled her eyes and turned around to watch Dylan round the corner, shaking his head when he finally caught up to his girlfriend. “What’s up, man?” Dylan and Carson pulled each other into a ‘bro-hug’ before separating.

“Ahh, nothing much!” Carson laughed while he finished buttoning up his jersey, “just got a series game to play nothing too big,” he shrugged. Cameron let out an overly dramatic huff to get both of the boy’s attention back on her. “Dad’s out on the field, most of the guys are too.” Carson pointed towards the staircase that led up into the visitor’s dugout. 

Cameron nodded in thanks before taking Dylan’s hand in hers, opting to pull him towards the field, itching to be outside on the diamond again. “Can you handle being in the Yankees dugout or is your ego too fragile?” She looked over to Dylan while she scanned the door open with the passes her dad had gotten for the couple. 

“Okay, I’m not that bad,” Dylan rolled his eyes while Cameron pushed the metal door open, the humid, hot and heavy summer New York air hitting them in the face when she did. “I’m just dedicated to my team.” Dedicated Dylan was indeed, it would always be a competition between the two when they would watch games back home. Whose team did better that week, whose team had the better stats, whose team had better chances of making it to the World Series. The competition would always be in good fun of course, nothing ever really rode on whose team did better, except bragging rights. 

Cameron leaned over and kissed his cheek, “and I think that’s adorable,” she reminded him. Once the pair stepped out on to the field they noticed most of the players were warming up in some shape or form. The infielders were running drills and those not participating were found in the back of the stadium, sitting on the fence of the bullpen, talking with the relief pitchers who were getting their arms loose before the game. 

“Someone is all grown up,” Cameron heard a familiar voice speak from next to her and turned to see Mark, one of the newer players, walking out of the bullpen. Mark had also gone to college with Cameron, although he had been a year ahead of her, he played on the LSU baseball team and had been a starter his freshman year.

Cameron rolled her eyes and accepted his offer of a hug. “You only graduated a year before me!” She laughed while he lifted her off the ground. She looked behind her once Mark put her down to see Dylan kicking the dirt with his beat up Adidas sneakers, an angry frown evident on his face.

Biting her bottom lip, Cameron walked over to Dylan and grabbed one of his hands that hung at his side and squeezed it, but he didn’t squeeze back like he usually would. Great, now she had to deal with a moody boyfriend for the rest of the day too. “Mark this is Dylan, Dylan this is Mark,” she leaned into Dylan’s side more. “You actually probably saw each other the night me and Dyl met at that bar we went to after finals your senior year.

“Nice to meet you for real man!” Mark laughed while he offered Dylan his hand to shake. “You got a real catch, I asked her out when?” Mark looked over to Cameron for confirmation on the years after he dropped Dylan’s hand.

Fuck, now she would really deal with a moody boyfriend for the rest of the day. “My sophomore year your junior,” she filled in. She knew that Dylan would be even less happy now that Cameron had just been getting all cozy with a guy she had rejected before she had started dating him. 

“Yeah she said no though, said it would be like dating her brother. Which was more of an insult than anything,” he nodded to where Carson was dumping a water bottle over one of the other player’s heads in the outfield while they warmed up, “he is something special.” Mark noticed that Cameron’s dad stood neat home plate, trying to round everyone up for batting practice and Mark offered Cameron a final smile. “Gotta go, see you later?”

Cameron nodded with a small smile, “yeah!” Mark leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before running off, his bat and batting gloves in his hands. Cameron had always thought that Mark would grow up to be incredibly handsome while they were in college together, she had just never been attracted to him.

“He asked you out?” Dylan asked once Mark would definitely be out of earshot of the couple. “And you didn’t tell me?” He sounded more hurt than anything. That would be how most of their arguments, if they could even be called that, went. Someone would feel hurt by something the other did and they’d voice their opinion about it and from there on it would be a downward spiral. It usually resulted in someone sleeping in the guest bedroom for a night and waking up to an elaborate breakfast the next morning.

Cameron ran her hands over her face, not in the mood to argue with Dylan around her dad’s players and staff. “It was sophomore year of college Dylan and I said no!” She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t want to get into this here. I’m going to say hi to my dad. If you want to pout over here feel free but I’m looking to enjoy the rest of today.” She spoke calmly before leaning up to peck his lips lightly before walking over to her dad.

“Look who it is!” He paused what he had been saying to his players to pull Cameron into a tight hug. Cameron smiled and squeezed her dad before pulling away, waving to the rest of the plays, most of who she knew. “How was the flight out this morning?” He asked after dismissing the players to get a few extra swings in before the game. “And why’s the boy toy pouting?” He nodded towards Dylan. 

Cameron just shrugged, “LAX is LAX, even if we did leave at three in the morning.” The couple had figured it would be the best time to fly into New York from Los Angeles, catch some sleep on the plane and nap once they got to her parents house. It had become their system when visiting there. “He’s not a fan of Mark, that’s why he looks so upset,” Cameron watched as Carson approached her boyfriend. 

Dylan offered Carson a halfhearted smile and then tucked his phone into his front pocket, crossing his arms over his chest before falling into conversation with the ball player. “Mark’s still trying?” James, Cameron’s dad, asked. “I think it’s pretty clear you and Dylan are in it for the long haul now,” he added.

“He’s not usually the jealous type,” Cameron spoke while she walked into the dugout with her dad. “I just,” she sighed, leaning against the bench. “I think it’s the fact that I’ve known Mark so long that’s getting under his skin, like the fact that me and Mark have more history will suddenly make me dump him for Mark ot something.” Cameron watched her dad hang the line up on the wall of the dugout, Mark not on the starting roster for the day.

James turned back to his daughter, a sympathetic smile on his face, “well if it makes Dylan feel any better, I’ll bench lover boy for the day,” he laughed lightly. “Just don’t tell him that I had already planned to take Mark off the roster for the day, he’s been making a ton of errors lately and we can’t have that right now.” Cameron looked at the lineup to see that her brother had been placed in the clean up position, as per usual. 

“Thanks dad,” Cameron sighed and wrapped her arms around her dad again, pulling him into another tight hug.

James just laughed and pulled away from his daughter, “don’t thank me, now go save Dylan from your brother before he talks his ear off about how we’re going to win today,” he nodded towards the two boys. Cameron just rolled her eyes and started up the stairs that lead out of the dugout. “And Cam,” she turned around again, “you mother and I are staying out here tonight.”

“Dad!” Cameron groaned, her face turning red, before she took the last two stairs, both in the same step to get out of the dugout faster. Walking over towards Carson and Dylan, Cameron knew the pair had seen her, but Dylan didn’t hold his hand out for her to take like he usually would. A pang of heart coursed through her chest, but she knew she had upset Dylan, and she should have realized what her actions would have done sooner.

Settling next to her boyfriend, Cameron saw her brother eye them both suspiciously before he fell back into his conversation with Dylan. Once there was a lull in the conversation and it appeared it would be dying off Cameron reached out and grabbed Dylan’s hand, but it stayed limp in hers. “If you don’t mind,” she butted in, “I’m going to steal him for a few minutes before the game starts because we need to talk about something.”

“There’s nothing to-” Dylan started, but Cameron cut him off with a sharp look that said they weren’t pushing this off until later. Dylan let out a long sigh, “I’ll catch up with you later dude,” he told Carson. 

Carson looked between his sister and her boyfriend before nodding shallowly, “yeah, catch up later,” he raised an eyebrow at Cameron, asking if she was okay. After she mouth an ‘all good’ back, he jogged towards the dugout and down the concrete stairs, emerging a few seconds later with his glove in hand. 

“Cameron I really don’t-”

“Nope,” Cameron tugged Dylan off a little further to the side of the field, where she knew no one could overheard anything. “If we leave this until later we both know that won’t end well,” she told him leaving absolutely no room to argue. “Now, you want to go first?” she dropped his hand and crossed her arms over her chest. 

Dylan tucked both of his hands into his shorts pockets and shrugged, kicking the dirt under his feet again. “I really don’t have anything to say,” he mumbled, clearly ignoring what Cameron had just said. 

“Well, I’ll tell you that I was never interested in him,” Cameron watched Dylan carefully even if he wouldn’t look up to meet her eyes. “He’s a self centered douche who always bragged about how amazing he was and everything was about him, he wasn’t humble and he never cared about anyone else, he just cared about how he looked to everyone else,” she took in a deep breath and when Didn’t reply she let out a long groan. “He’s not humble and he’s not willing to better himself, he doesn’t care about how anyone else feels and he never will. He’s not funny and his smile and laugh always seems fake and quite frankly my dad took him off the lineup for today because he’s such a self centered dick. And you should have more trust in me, I’m dating you and only you, my eyes are on you only, not anyone else, especially not him!”

Cameron watched Dylan look up to meet her eyes, his slightly shiny, but no longer hurt. He had his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled his hat off to card his fingers through his hair. “Sorry I doubted you, he’s just, everything you grew up with and probably wanted growing up,” Dylan mumbled. “And I just got jealous and afraid you’d leave me for someone like him, like everyone expected you to end up with,” he held his hands out for Cameron to take. 

Letting out a tiny sigh, Cameron threaded their fingers together and pulled Dylan closer to her. “Never doubt yourself, bubs,” Cameron kissed him lightly. “I have eyes for you and only you.”

“Love you,” Dylan kissed her again.

“I love you too, dork,” she smiled and pulled away slightly. “Now let’s go say good luck to my dad and thank you for the seats behind home plate,” she started pulling him towards the direction of the dugout. 

Dylan laughed behind her and rolled his eyes, “like I’d ever tell the Yankees good luck,” he said it just loud enough that Cameron could hear. Pausing in just far enough away from the dugout that they would still be out of earshot, Cameron pulled Dylan closer again.

“Say good luck,” she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “and we have the house to ourselves tonight,” she pulled gently on her earlobe with her teeth to drive her point home. 

Dylan closed his eyes and let out a quiet groan, “I hope they win then!” He pulled her towards the dugout again. “In extra innings though, of course.”

[a-ratt]

MLB Fanfic: Sins of the Past Chapter II: Miracu-class Reunion

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(Chapter List)

“Take a right here.”

“I know, Rose.”

Kamala glanced between her parents from the backseat of their car. They were on their way to Agreste Mansion, taking the quickest route there, according to their GPS.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see everyone again!”

Her maman was a glowing ball of energy, bouncing in her seat and beaming into the visor mirror as she applied her makeup. Meanwhile, her mom was a lot laxer, but she wore a small smile as she watched the road.

“It’ll be nice being together again.” Her mom reached a hand over and took her maman’s. “Just like old times.”

They went silent after that, so she turned her attention outside at the passing Parisian nightlife. Pedestrians strolled about beneath street lamps, moving from destination to destination. A majority gathered outside restaurants, others headed to a movie theater here or a convenience store there. She spied a few entering their homes from a late night out.

Soon, though, the stores and homes were replaced by a flat wall of mute stone.

"Alright, we're here."

She looked out the window at the wall beside them. There were no windows or homely features, just stone. Getting out of the car, she was even more confused as she looked down either way of the wall. While the right end turned at a corner, the left dropped off at a gate where a dark-skinned, fiery redheaded woman stood, tapping her foot and scrolling through her phone.

“Alya!”

Kamala looked up at her maman, then back at the woman. She’d perked up and turned her attention towards them. A smile grew on her face as she started over, stowing her phone away.

“Rose? Juleka?” She gave a laugh and threw out her arms wide. Both her parents practically skipped into her embrace, reciprocating with a tight hug. “Mon dieu, it’s been too long, girls!"

"Way too long," her mom said. "Where have you been?"

The woman, Alya, shrugged. "Here and there. Went over to America for some internships after lyceé, got a job in the UK for about a year, then I came back home to do some work here." She rubbed her chin, but then snapped her fingers. "Oh, and I visited Achu last month to write a piece on King Ali's reformation of the economy there. Speaking of which…."

Her eyes turned on her and Kamala froze like a deer in headlights.

"So, you must be Kamala." She held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

She hesitantly shook the hand. "Um… yeah."

Her grip was a little weak while the adult's was strong, but that didn't seem to ruin Alya's fun. Her smile only grew and she glanced at her parents. "She's cute.”

She flushed red and let go of her hand while her parents giggled.

Alya put her hands on her hips as she turned her attention back to them. "I didn't even know you could adopt out of country."

"Well. when you're friends with King Ali…." Her mom gave a smirk and her maman slapped her arm.

"Juleka!"

"What? He technically helped."

"But we filled out the paperwork legally!"

Kamala bounced her eyes between her parents, unsure of whether or not she should feel flattered or offended that they were talking about her right in front of her.

Thankfully, a loud buzz and the sound of metal bars clanging drew their attention back to the front gates.

"Sounds like it's time to party." Alya adjusted her purse strap and waved for them to follow. "Come on, girls. Let's party."

-

For an impromptu get-together, M. Agreste's class reunion looked and felt like more of a party.

The first thing she saw upon entering Agreste Mansion were a number of colorful streamers reaching out from a giant, crystal chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling. While its light sparkled and illuminating the foyer, it also lit up its bright extremities and brought life to an otherwise starkly white room.  A mixture of foldable and ornate, wooden tables were also set up around the place, all of them covered in patterned cloth. Each one hosted different platters or bowls of store-bought foods or homemade cuisine.

What really gave the foyer life, though, was the number of people mingling about. She spied a tall, built Asian man holding up his arms for two teenagers to hang off of. Next to him, an equally tall and built, redheaded woman laughed while cradling a baby. 

Close to them, a ginger-haired woman strode up to chat with Alya. They hugged and laughed, then walked over to a table to grab drinks. At the same time, her parents walked up to two men, one with bright, scarlet hair and the other with regular, black hair.

They chatted animatedly, leaving her to balance on her heels awkwardly before wandering over to a nearby table to grab a bite. A silver platter was set out, offering a pile of macarons. She glanced around briefly before reaching for one.

"Watch out!"

"Incoming!"

She squeaked as two bodies squished her in between them. The pile of macarons was utterly leveled by a pair of hands, leaving only a single one left. She picked it up and gave it a sad glance before watching the pile's destroyers run over to the Asian man.

"I got your dessert, dad!"

"No, I got your dessert!"

Both teens, a boy and a girl, shoved and growled at each other. The boy barked once, which prompted their dad to step in between them.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Jacque! Jacqueline! Calm it down you two!" He held up his hands. "Make nice or I'm taking your PlayStation!"

Immediately, the teens froze, looked each other in the eye, then slumped their shoulders.

"Sorry, dad."

She watched their dad stand up tall with hands on his hips and then give a laugh. He patted them both on the shoulder before taking a macaron from them each.

"That's alright, guys, but keep it cool. You guys make everything a competition, then one of these days you're going to get hurt." He looked over at her and she froze. "Or get someone else hurt, like her."

Both teens turned to look at her. She flushed red and tried to turn around, but she already heard their dad saying, "go apologize to her."

She turned around to find them behind her. They looked similar, from appearances to their posture. The only real difference was the boy had a short quiff and the girl had a bob cut. Both of them shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of their necks and wringing the bottom of their shirts.

"Uh, sorry about running into you," the boy, Jacque, apologized.

"Yeah, sorry about that," the girl, Jacqueline, said too.

She glanced between them and tried to form words. They ended up thinning out in her throat and she had to clear it before speaking again. "It's alright… no problem."

They both grinned and ran back to their dad, excited to be over with the task. She watched them hop and bounce around before turning back to grabbing a macaron.

"Hey, I see you met the twins!"

M. Agreste walked up next to her right as she grabbed the last macaron. She grit her teeth and swallowed the slight buildup of frustration in her.

"Yeah." She gave a half-hearted smile and made to scurry away when the Asian man strolled over with his kids hanging off him. Literally. Again.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! If it isn't our handsome host!" He grinned and lowered his arms, setting the teens down. "And you must be… uh… someone…."

She looked at him, then glanced at the little opening between him and M. Agreste.

"I'm nobody," she chirped anxiously. "I'm just gonna… go."

"Don't we sit behind you?"

She stopped and looked at Jacqueline. The girl was watching her with squinted eyes. Glancing at Jacque, she found him doing the same.

"Yeah, she sits right in front of you guys with Mlle. Lécuye." M. Agreste lifted a wine glass and smiled, then turned to the Asian man. "Oh, and this is Kamala, she's Rose and Juleka's daughter."

She suppressed the urge to scowl at her homeroom teacher.

"No way!" Suddenly, he was leaning in front of her, checking her out. "You're the munchkin they picked up from- Ow!"

He was cut off by the redheaded woman with the baby elbowing his side. He rubbed the sure spot and looked back at her. "Uh, I mean, adopted from Achu."

"Are you bullying our little girl?"

Suddenly, her parents were with them, stepping over to meet the other couple.

"Bonsoir, Kim." Her mom waved. "Bonsoir, Ondine."

"Bonsoir, you two." The redheaded woman, Ondine, beamed and cradled her child. "Ariel says bonsoir too."

Her maman cooed while her mom snorted. While they chatted, she took the opportunity to sneak back around to hide behind her parents.

"So, you're a coach now?" Her mom tilted her head while the man, Kim, nodded.

"Yeah, took some classes in uni for sports management. But, I mean, that's nothing compared to Mdm. Fifteen-Olympic-Gold-Medals right here!"

Ondine visibly blushed and elbowed him playfully. "Kim…."

He kissed her on the temple while her parents giggled and M. Agreste chuckled. Meanwhile, "the twins", were glancing between their parents, their faces a mixture of disgust and boredom. She, herself, looked at them all before slipping back and nudging her mom's hand.

"I need to use the bathroom."

Her mom arched an eyebrow, but shrugged. "Hey, Adrien, where's your bathroom at?"

"Uh, head into the dining room, take the door on the left, and then it's the door on the right in the hall."

She blinked and looked at him. Then, at her mom. After processing the directions, she sighed and marched away from the crowd.

-

“Come on, seriously?” Kim leaned back in his chair. “There’s no way.”

A wave of laughs rolled over the gathered friends while Adrien Agreste rubbed the back of his neck. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

They sat in the foyer, having pulled out sofas, benches, and chairs. Their congregation was shaped in a loose circle at the foot of the stairs, right beneath the chandelier so they could all share in the spotlight.

"No, he's right, Sunshine Boy." Alya drank. "You've had tons of women, and even some guys, hanging off your shoulders. When are you going to find someone to settle down with? Or just run away? I don't know what your retirement plan is."

He looked at her, then at the ground. “I, uh… I don’t know what to tell you guys.” He laughed and shook his head. “I’m just not interested. You know?”

Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes as the front door shut. The hulking form of the Gorilla passed by them and Adrien gave him an appreciative nod. The Agreste family butler and bodyguard nodded back, then went to stand by a table offering an assortment of desserts.

“Hey. Hey. Hey, party people! Guess who!”

Eyes turned to the three newcomers lead by a dark-skinned man dressed in casual, yet neat attire. If it wasn’t his clothing that tipped them off, it was his red hat.

“Nino! Ivan! Mylène!” they cheered, raising their glasses.

The massive figure of Ivan came striding forth with his wife beside him, their hands clasped. Mylène gave a wave while Ivan smiled and opened his arms. Rose squealed and jumped into them while Juleka stood up to meet them.

“‘Sup, gang!” Nino laughed and high-fived Kim, bumped fists with Juleka, then froze when he came face-to-face with Alya. “Um… h-hey, Alya.”

She wore an unimpressed expression and stared at him with narrowed eyes. “M. Lahiffe.”

Everyone glanced between them, Rose coughing into her fist. Adrien walked over and patted his best-friend on the shoulder before moving him into a seat they’d brought out.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah….” Nino swallowed and looked down while Alya glared. “I’m cool. I’m cool….”

Adrien nodded, then glanced at Alya, who turned her gaze away.

“So,” she started and looked straight across their gathering to the ginger-haired woman sitting next to Ondine, “Sabrina, how’s life been?”

Sabrina perked up and met the eyes watching her. She flushed red and crossed her legs. “I’ve been fine.”

“You got your master’s in business management, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina sipped from her wine glass. “Still not worth it.”

Everyone laughed and shared in the revelry, immersing themselves in the warm embrace of nostalgia and fond memories of good times. Then, the closet burst open.

“Can you get off me?”

Out of the closet came an all-too-familiar superhero who rubbed the back of his neck while a pink-haired woman stepped out.

“Sorry, miscalculated the destination.” Pegasu stood and de-transformed, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.

“Yeah, you think?” Alix stretched and tugged at her yoga pants, then looked over at their classmates. “Hey, at least you got us in the right building. What’s up, losers!”

A cheer rang out from the rest of their class, who lifted their drinks up and stood to greet them. Kim was the first to walk over, grabbing his best-friends in a bear hug.

“It’s the crew!” he laughed.

“Kim, get your beefy logs off me!”

“Kim, please let us down.”

Ondine giggled at her husband’s antics while Alya stepped past to smack his arm. At her glare, he let them go and stepped back so Alix and Max could breathe. While they do so, however, Alya set her hands on her hips. “So, mind telling us why you were in the closet?”

The duo exchanged looks, then Max pointed at his shirt pocket. Something squirmed in it, and that was all anyone needed to know.

“Uncle Max!”

Jacque and Jacqueline Lê Chiến came running over, practically hopping with excitement. Max, in turn, smiled and raised a hand. “Hey, Jacquie. Hi, Jacquie.”

Both twins made faces, but gave him a high-five nonetheless. Meanwhile, Kim and Ondine shared a laugh while Alix crossed her arms.

“What?“ She threw out her arms. “I don’t get anything?”

The twins shared another look and then ran over to tackle her. Alix gave a cry and hit the ground while Kim burst into cackling and Ondine was suddenly aware that their kids had tackled an adult.

“Kim!” She nudged him and her husband rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, you good, Alix?”

A thumb shot up from the dog pile. “Ninety-nine percent, yeah.

Another roar of laughter filled the foyer, echoing and dredging up memories of their time in a classroom together. It was like the years hadn't gone by, save for the fact that they were taller and a few of them had kids.

"Hey, Mylène," Alix kicked up her feet onto Kim's legs, to which he pushed them off, only for her to prop them back up. "What's it like being a collège counselor and a mother?”

The shorter woman shrugged. "It doesn't affect my work much. I can't say the same for Adelene, though."

Beside her, Ivan scratched his chin. "Yeah, we're worried the fame might go to her head some day. I mean, she hasn't pulled a Chloé yet, but she's had moments where… well…."

"She's been a little demanding?" Ondine glanced at her twins, both looked at her before scurrying away to a table on the other side of the foyer.

A wave of chuckles rolled over them.

"How's Kamala, by the way?" Ivan looked over to Rose and Juleka. "I know she isn't too fond of the whole 'my parents are rock stars' thing."

Both women shrugged and Juleka gestured towards Adrien. "She's been homeschooled up until now, so Adrien's who you wanna ask."

Eyes fell onto the blonde and he drank from his glass. "Well, I mean, it's only been the first day. She was quiet and kind of isolated. I think she'll start to open up, though."

Kamala's parents hummed and everyone fell into silence. That was, until Alix piped up. "So, anyone hear about that bank robbery last week?"

Everyone shared looks. Most of them smiled while she smirked. Adrien looked at them all and tilted his head. "Uh, yeah. Bunnyx stopped it, right?"

"Yeah, she sure did." Alix leaned back into her chair and Kim pushed her feet off his legs again.

"Don't forget she had some help." Ondine interjected, smiling innocently when Alix shot a pointed look her way.

"Well, yeah, but Roi Singe pretty much missed all the action."

"I don't know…." Kim sat up. "He kind of saved yo- Bunnyx's butt with the whole 'make the robber's guns jam with his superpowers', you know what I mean?"

The rivals never broke eye contact while everyone chuckled, giggled, or took videos of their first argument in years. All the while, Adrien looked out over his gathered friends and smiled. Everyone was here… well, almost everyone.

 “Thinking about Mari?” Nino stepped up next to him, swirling a drink absentmindedly. “Me too, man… She would’ve loved this.”

He nodded. “Yeah… she would’ve….” His eyes turned to Alya. “So, are you sure you’re alright? I mean, after the divorce-”

“I’m fine. Seriously.” Nino set a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t gotta worry about me or Alya. Just… let us work out the kinks ourselves. Alright, dude?”

Adrien stared at him and nodded solemnly. Then, someone screamed.

-

Kamala stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing her hands dry on her clothes. She glanced around the dark hall and shivered ever-so-slightly. Why were bourgeoisie mansions always so creepy?

She looked at the door out and stepped towards it, but then stopped. There was a humming sound from the other door down the hall, muffled but audible. Turning back, she took in the dark threshold at the other hand of the hall, then glanced at the door behind her.

Hesitantly, she stepped over to press an ear against the door. The humming was louder, but then it stopped. There was an audible click, followed by the sound of murmuring. Was it the adults? Had they moved to another room?

“Probably shouldn’t intrude,” she muttered and stepped away.

Just as she did, someone shouted. She jumped, then froze. Fear petrified her long enough that the voice on the other side died down. Left terrified, but suddenly curious, she glanced at the doorknob before grabbing it.

Opening the door a crack, she peered through into a massive, sterile white room. The lights were dimmed and the curtains were drawn. There was a shadow on the floor, which she followed to a man in a wheelchair.

“I won. Do you hear me?”

She stared at an elderly man, his hair disheveled and body frail. He held a strange box in his hand while wheeling around.

“I won. Stop haunting me!”

He seemed to try and crush the box, but only succeeded in giving it a light squeeze. Immediately after, he let his arm fall and drew in labored breaths.

Kamala processed the sight, decided it was creepy as heck, then backed away. Unfortunately, the door creaked.

Cold blue eyes snapped to her and she froze in place again. Before she knew it, he was wheeling towards her, snarling and baring his teeth. She tried to backpedal, but he was already throwing the door open and grabbing her wrist.

“Who are you!” he demanded. “What are you doing here? Did she bring you here? Did she send use my miraculous?”

“Let go of me!” she screamed and tried to wrench her wrist free.

“Tell me-” The man grasped his chest and gasped.

She struggled harder and pulled away from him. She took a step back to run, but stopped when she saw him keel over and fall out of his wheelchair. Her eyes rounded and she stared in shock at the frail, trembling figure.

She didn’t know what to do. What could she do? He attacked her and was on the floor now. Should she call her parents?

She opted for the latter.

“Help!” She knelt down next to him, searching for something that’d help. “Help! Mom! Maman!”

Her eyes landed on the strange object, an octagonal box. She picked it up and looked it over. Before she could open it, though, a second pair of doors burst open and M. Agreste stepped in.

“Hello? Kamala?” He looked over and his eyes shot open wide. “Father!”

Suddenly, he was at his father’s side, across from her. He pressed two fingers to his wrist, then rolled him over.

“Kamala, get back.” He ordered, then pressed his hands on his father’s chest. “One. Two. One. Two.”

She stared, still trapped in shock. Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away. When she came out of her stupor, she looked up at her maman who held her tight.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“He- He grabbed my wrist, I-... I didn’t- He just-....” Tears tumbled down her face, but her maman wiped them with her shirt.

“Did he hurt you?”

“N-No, but-”

“But?”

“He just grabbed my wrist and I panicked and pulled away and- and-”

“He’s still breathing!” M. Agreste snapped his head up. “Alya, call 911!”

“Already on it!”

“Gorilla! Get the car ready! Nino! Go upstairs and knock on the door right of my room!”

“Got it!”

Kamala stared at the scene playing out before her, unable to comprehend anything. Her mind was a mess, thoughts crashing and swirling like a chaotic storm. All she felt was dread in the pit of her stomach, a cold icy ball of pure anxiety forcing her to stay on her knees while her maman held her and her mom rubbed circles into her back.

-

“Is he going to be okay?”

Her parents shared looks and she glanced at their faces. Despite her maman being bubbly and her mom being chill, for once they shared the same expression of hesitance and concern.

“He should be.” Her mom twisted around to look at her. “But are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah….” She rubbed her wrist. “I’m okay….”

Her parents exchanged more looks.

“Your mom’s going to go to the hospital, Kamala,” her maman said, getting out of the car. “We’re going to stay here at home, alright?”

She nodded numbly and got out too. They waved her mom goodbye as she drove off to meet M. Agreste and the rest of the adults at the hospital. Her maman lead her inside, through the boutique and up the stairs in the back.

She mindlessly ambled past their furniture and to her room. She registered her maman lingering in the doorway, watching her sit down on her bed. A second passed before she joined her, kneeling in front of her.

“What happened, Kamala?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Fear kept her voice down, but a need to speak forced it up like water in a backed up pipe. “I got out of the bathroom and was going back to the party, but then I heard some weird sound and went to look and I found M. Agreste, but he was acting weird, yelling at this- this box! But when I tried to leave he heard me and I couldn’t move because- because I was so scared.” She rubbed her wrist harder. “He grabbed my wrist and yelled at me, but I screamed and struggled, then tried to run, but then he fell over and-....”

Her voice faded, but she’d gotten the story across. Her maman gave her a pitying look, then drew her into a hug.

“It’s alright, sweetie. You’re okay.”

She trembled and choked on a sob. She wanted to not do that, to be strong. Yet, her body betrayed her and she could only sit there, crying and shaking.

“I’ll talk with Adrien and we’ll try to clear this up. Whatever happened to M. Agreste, it wasn’t your fault. He’s had problems like this before.”

Her voice failed her, so she bobbed her head.

“How about you take a shower.” She picked up her wrist. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Before she knew it, she was in the bathroom. The water was running and steam was filling the air. She stared into the mirror, watching her reflection. Her red eyes burned and her cheeks were tear-stricken. She still quivered ever-so-slightly.

A wave of disgust hit her and she pulled at her clothes. Before she stripped anything off, though, she felt a bump in her jacket.

“What?”

She pulled out the octagonal box M. Agreste had held. Her eyes stared at it, a new wave of fear taking her. She was going to get in trouble for this. Whatever this was….

Curiosity overcame dread and she put a hand on the top of it. Maybe one peek wouldn’t hurt?

She opened it and the world went pink. A second later, she blinked and got up off the floor. The back of her head stung and she rubbed it tentatively. The box sat on the ground, opened and revealing two black earrings inside.

Picking it up, she examined them, then looked up at the mirror. A woman with bluebell eyes stared back.

“Hello?” The woman waved. “Hi, uh... I’m Marinette. Who are you?”

-

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[defensefilms]

Is Ayesha Curry The Worst Wife In NBA History?

“Don’t piss my drillers off, cos certifed man is drilling off”

I’d like to open this blog by giving the absolute maximum amounts of props to Savannah James.

That’s her picture up there. In 2021 LeBron James’ wife is an absolute rarity. Since marrying Lebron in 2013, this woman has zero scandals on her docket. No weird comments in the media. No constant passive aggressive attempts at insulting her husband. None of it. The closest thing to a scandal was in 2016 when her and LeBron were at a MLB game and they looked like they were smoking that cheech n chong. In 2021, that’s not enough to indict.

When writing this blog, I tried to find interviews of Savannah with mainstream media. I couldn’t really find anything. There was an interview from 3 years ago with a channel called Driving Cleveland. There’s another interview from 11 years ago where she’s talking about doing make-up. Other than that? Nothing. You might catch her on the gram doing a live. The rest of the time she’s showing up in her kids’ Youtube videos.

Simply put, they don’t build women like this anymore. I think that millenial women try to convince guys that they are like Savannah and it just ain’t like that. It’s just not what’s going down. 

Fam, I’m just gonna put it to you straightforward, cut and dry. The majority of married men in 2021 do not know peace like what LeBron does and the crazy thing is they will pretend different. 

The mandem are living a lie.

It’s 2021, since the 1980′s, western education has fed women the idea that they can’t be wrong about anything when it comes to sex, marriage and relationships. So knowing the kinds of environments that most wives and girlfriends grew up in, as well as the ideology espoused by mainstream media, do you really think there’s a lot of wife-quality women just roaming the streets? 

Some guys will tell you that the secret hack is to find a girl who has a good relationship with her father. What you’d be ignoring is that most fathers raise their daughters to be terrible mates to men. They raise them with the express purpose of never needing a man. Most fathers raise women to be competitors to men. So don’t let these guys push up on you with them lies. 

Street dreams are made of these. 

Ayesha Curry was first introduced to the world when Steph Curry was going crazy during the 2015/16 season and trust me it matters that this is the way she entered the mainstream public sphere.

In 2015, the conservative values of the Curry family and their marriage was how they were introduced. Ayesha even made comments alluding to how her husband should be the only one to see certain parts of her. Fair enough. Sounds like the right thing to say right.

Right up until she went and made an appearance alongside Jada Pinkett, who has since announced her dedication to the streets after going public about cheating on Will Smith with August Alsina. So Ayesha’s hanging with all kinds of positive role models there. During that appearance she admitted that she misses having the attention of men other than her husband. Yes gentlemen, a married women went onto a public platform and admitted basically wanting to fraternize with someone other than the NBA SUPERSTAR SHE’S MARRIED TO. Worse yet, she got to keep her marriage.

The signs and shenanigans didn’t stop there though. Months later a video emerges of Ayesha Curry looking like she’s baking something. Nice. Problem is like 10 seconds into that video, she starts twerking. 

At this point, the streets knew Steph has a problem. However, the streets can think what they want right? I mean, who the hell are we?

Except, after waxing lyrical about how pious and holy her and Steph are, Ayesha Curry has apparently gonna and posed nude for some or other platform. So, you know, just a model of consistency, right? This is all a picture of attention seeking, Make no mistake about it, she’s daring the wolves to come after her.

I don’t like Steph Curry. I never have. 

But make no mistake about it, I got his back on this one. What’s happening to Steph is something that happens to most married guys and the loss that they end up taking is so bad, that people don’t like to talk about it.

Every time I’m in a conversation about marriage and I mention the possibility of divorce, it’s like people clam up. They get this stiff, uncomfortable smile, their shoulders stiffen up, they get really rigid with all sorts of uncomfortable body language. That’s what the mere thought and mention of divorce does to people. 

This is way bigger than Steph Curry. Plus he’s Seth Curry’s brother, we’re not going to see the Warriors in the post season, so yeah, I’m with Steph, fam.

One last message to the younger guys that might read this. You can do the “right thing”. Go to school, get a good job, earn lots of money and get married. What not one is going to tell you, including those that have been married, is that in all likelihood, it still won’t be enough.

That’s why I have such deep issues with the older generations of guys because if it weren’t for the internet we would never be able to have this conversation. That’s the truth about our father’s generation and the rest of them. No matter what happens, their dedication to hypergamy and the traditional family trumps their loyalty to you and their leadership fails hardest right when young men need it the most. Sad reality. These guys were perfectly aware of what was finna’ happen to you and they’d let you walk yourself down in to the marriage trap anyway.

It’s rare that basketball gives me an opportunity to speak on something so important. 

One more thing, what do you think the public would be saying if Steph was the one saying he wants to smash thots on the road?

One of my favorite Youtubers is a guy named Anthony Spade and he has a saying that goes “she ain’t holding you down, she slowing you down”.