#I wonder who has custody of the shrimps

[octochilli]

JUST NOTICED SOMETHING ABT THE NEW BAND!!

^^^ Beika's tweets found on the Splatoon wiki

I can't tell if Beika helped make this happen or is passed out on his couch on the verge of alcohol poisoning while trying to type out another 5 page's worth squitter rant.

[sleepysnk]

bye i love Niccolo, that is all.

Crashing Tides

Pairings: Niccolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

"Niccolo wait up!"

"You're just slow! These waves aren't gonna surf themselves!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her surfboard off the wall it leaned on. The day was perfect, bright sun, warm air, not a cloud in the sky, and best of all, huge waves.

She ran towards the crashing waves, she noticed Niccolo was already hitting them.

"Come on (Y/N)! These waves aren't just for me!" he called.

She shook her head before running out to the water, she lied on her belly, paddling into the salty water which made her swimsuit stick to her skin.

Her eyes averted to the wave which approached her in the distance, it was pretty tall, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Just as the wave was about to hit she lifted herself onto her board, standing up and riding against the wave. The water splashed onto her legs, she looked at Niccolo who was smiling at her. Her cheeks grew hot seeing his smile, he was always so adorable.

Her eye grew wide as another wave approached and Niccolo wasn't paying attention.

"Niccolo!"

He turned, his face growing with shock and the wave knocked him off his board. (Y/N) jumped off hers and rushed over to him, she watched his board slide onto the beach.

She walked through the water which was up to her waist. "Niccolo?!" she yelled, looking around for him.

He was laying there limp.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she swam over to his body, she shook his arm. "Niccolo?! Shit!" she lifted his head, trying to see if he hit a rock or something.

His eyes opened and he started laughing. "Your face was priceless!" he said before sitting up, his feet touching the floor.

She rolled her eyes, smacking his arm. "What's wrong with you?! You scared the shit out of me," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

He chuckled, "It isn't the first time you've saved me."

Her cheeks grew hot, "Whatever! Come on.. I'm hungry," she said, walking towards the sandy edge of the beach.

He followed after her and slung his arm over her shoulder. "Your dad probably has something good, please tell me he made the shrimp."

She grabbed her board off the ground, wiping any sandy residue off of it. "He always has shrimp for you," she giggled.

Niccolo grabbed his own board and jogged behind her. "Say less! Mr.(L/N) coming in clutch," he said excitedly.

Her eyes wandered to his face. Niccolo looked so good right now. His blonde hair was wet from the water, a few droplets dripped at the end and a few strands stuck to his face. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the bracelets around his wrist were damp, and that shell necklace around his neck pressed into his skin.

He's totally a man now.

"Hello? You got a staring problem," he flicked her head, making her wince.

She hit his arm, "Stop! Sorry.." she mumbled.

He furrowed his brows, "You sure? (Y/N) you know I'm always here to help you.." he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Tingles came from his touch. "I'm fine.. don't worry Niccolo," she replied, smiling at him.

The two made their way to (Y/N)'s beach house, her dad worked as a surfboard maker. He also was a great chef, he cooked when the people around town wanted to have a cookout or bbq.

"Hey dad!" (Y/N) called.

Her dad emerged from the kitchen. "Oh hey! Glad your back, I needed to speak with you."

His eyes averted to Niccolo. "Hey Mr.(L/N)" he said, smiling at him.

"Niccolo! Good to see you, and please you don't gotta call me that. Your family," he replied, putting his hand onto his shoulder.

(Y/N) sat at the table, her stomach growled. She had been out all day surfing that she forgot to eat, her dad always got on her case about it saying it wasn't healthy for her to just leave on an empty stomach. She never listened though.

"So what are you two looking for?" her dad asked, leaning against the counter.

"The usual! Your shrimp always hit the spot," Niccolo replied.

Her dad smiled, "Sounds good, I'll go and whip it up. You want any (Y/N)?" he asked.

"Yeah sure," she replied, swinging her feet a bit.

"You two can head upstairs, it may be awhile."

Niccolo and (Y/N) looked at each other before going up the stairs to her room. Her dad trusted Niccolo, he knew he would never do anything to his daughter.

Pictures hung on the walls of (Y/N) and her family, as well as pictures of her and Niccolo as children. It was crazy how much time has passed since then.

"I heard there's gonna be some sick waves in the next few days," Niccolo said, following her into her room.

She placed a towel down on her bed. "Really? That's lame, it should have happened before summer ended."

He chuckled a bit, "Right? But I mean, you're gonna be here anyway. We can always surf after school," he replied, shrugging.

She looked on her phone. "You're right."

He plopped down next to her, he grabbed the phone out of her hands. "Nah we aren't sitting on our phones, let's chat." he said, laughing a bit.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine! What do you wanna talk about?" she asked, nodding her head.

His cheeks grew pink, it made her brows furrow.

"W-Well.. since we're both really close, I was wondering if you-"

"Guys! Food is ready!"

She looked at Niccolo, "Keep going," she said, smiling a bit.

He shook his head, "Nah, let's go eat. It can wait," he replied, standing up and heading to her door.

She was puzzled but she didn't question it, but she did have one question.

Why was he blushing?

-

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Niccolo smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "For sure! Maybe you can beat me to the tide," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever! Get out loser"

He put his hand over his chest dramatically. "Loser? Nah that's definitely you, but I'll see you tomorrow!" he said, exiting the front door of her house.

She shut it and smiled to herself. He was such a dork.

"(Y/N)? A word please?" her father called from the kitchen.

She nodded, heading to the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Have a seat," he replied, pointing at the chair in front of her.

She plopped down in the chair, her head cocking to the side wanting to know what her dad wanted to speak about.

"Your mom called"

Her eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen her mom in about a year or two. (Y/N)'s parents were divorced, they separated when she was 13, and the custody battle was absolute hell. In the end, she sided with her father and her mother wasn't the happiest. But if her daughter was happy, so was she. They spoke from time to time, but whenever she called her dad, it wasn't good.

"And? What did she want?" she asked, picking at her nails.

He sighed, "Your mom wants you to come home for the school year."

What?

"Wait.. what? Dad no, I don't wanna go with her. I'm already signed up for school here! It wouldn't make sense.. and what about Niccolo? I have zero friends where she lives," she said, her voice sounding upset.

Her father looked down, "I know sweetheart.. but with the custody battle I can't really say no. It's been awhile since you've seen her, I think it'll do you both some good."

She felt frustrated, why the hell did this have to happen now? The new school year was starting soon and she knew absolutely nobody where her mom lived. Her mom lived in the suburbs, almost three hours away.

"When is she coming to get me?" she asked.

He leaned back in his seat. "She'll be coming a week before the school year begins to pack up everything. I told her to give you more time, especially with Niccolo and all." he replied.

Her cheeks grew warm, her dad must have known about the way she felt towards Niccolo. It was almost blatantly obvious she liked her childhood best friend.

"Will I ever be able to visit or come home here?" she asked.

"Of course! Once the summer begins you'll come home here. Your mom and I both agreed on that," he said, putting his hand onto hers.

She breathed air out of her nose, she wasn't sure what else to say. She wanted to stay so bad, but she knew running from her mom wasn't a good idea and her dad would be pissed. She could tell her dad didn't want to send her away, but what else could he do?

"I'm gonna head upstairs.. night," she said before standing up and leaving the kitchen.

Her mind swirled around with different thoughts and questions. Who was she gonna be friends with? Would she even make friends? Would her mom make her stay? What about Niccolo? What was she going to do without him?

The thoughts alone made her stomach churn, she only had a week until her mom would come by to get her.

A week.

Seven days to spend with Niccolo.

She wanted to make it count.

-

The next day (Y/N) awoke to the sound of her dad's drill. He was probably making another surfboard or fixing one. He was always up early fixing things for people, it always woke her up too.

She looked out the window, seeing that the sky was overcast. She noticed the waves were a bit higher today and it was noticeably more windy than the previous days. Maybe today would be a good day to hit some waves with Niccolo.

Niccolo, shit.

How the hell was she supposed to tell Niccolo she was leaving?

Sighing, she rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs. The sound of the drill got louder as she approached the kitchen, her dad was outside in the backyard cutting up wood.

Her phone suddenly pinged, causing her to reach for it.

A message from Niccolo displayed on the screen.

Niccolo: the waves are calling to us (Y/N), you better get out here rn 👀

She smiled, typing a reply.

(Y/N): on my way! let me go tell my dad and get changed first

Niccolo: ooo getting changed? pls put on the pink one today 😐 you promised plus it looks nice on you

Her cheeks heated up from the message, Niccolo always complimented her whenever he could. Whether it be her trying on outfits or swimsuits, he was always her #1 fan.

She rolled her eyes before opening the back door, the warm humid air rushing onto her skin.

"Is it cool if I go surfing with Niccolo?" she asked, nodding her head.

Her dad looked up, "Yeah sure! Be careful though, those waves are pretty big today. I heard we're getting a storm later on," he replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

She nodded and stepped back inside, closing the door. She rushed up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit, she put on the pink one so Niccolo wouldn't be 'salty' about her not putting it on.

She finished up and rushed out the door to meet Niccolo at their usual spot. She grabbed her surfboard and made her way there, the wind was blowing around, it made the sticky air a little less bearable.

"Finally! I've been waiting forever!"

She smiled, seeing how dramatic he could act always made her grin. "Sorry! I was in a rush," she replied, looking up at him.

He slung his arm around her shoulder. "Nah don't worry sugar, I was just messing with ya" he said.

She giggled a bit, the nickname he gave her made her cheeks feel warm. Something Niccolo was always able to make her do.

"Wait did I offend you? Shit.. I'm sorry," he said, looking at her.

She blinked, "What? No! I'm fine don't worry Niccolo," she laughed.

His blonde hair blew over his eyes, "You just seem out of the ordinary, that's all."

"No I'm fine.. don't worry about it," she said. "Come on! Let's go hit these waves, shall we?"

He grabbed his surfboard and jogged after her, she noticed the red flag blowing in the wind. It meant that people should stay out of the water, but Niccolo and (Y/N) never paid much attention. Nobody was there to stop them.

Stepping into the water, goosebumps formed onto her skin. It felt cold around her ankles, she lied down on her board and began to paddle in the water.

"I'm gonna ride all these waves and you're not gonna know what hit you," Niccolo said, paddling next to her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah okay! Try me," she smirked.

"Oh you already know I will."

She felt flustered, her eyes averted forward at the wave approaching in the distance. It had to be at least eight feet tall. Nothing she couldn't handle of course.

Seeing the wave getting closer, she stood up, balancing her weight on the board. The water splashed around her legs, soaking her swimsuit and making her shiver a bit. She looked over at Niccolo who was riding along the tide.

Her mind began to wander to her going with her mom, disappointment ran through her as the thoughts invaded her head. It made her upset, frustrated, sad.

"(Y/N)! There's a big one coming!" Niccolo called, looking towards her.

She looked back seeing the giant wave approaching, it had to be bigger than the last one. At least twelve feet high.

"I got this!" she yelled, hopping off her board and lying down on the base.

Niccolo didn't like how big the wave was, she's never rode big waves before and he sure as hell knew it wasn't a good idea. He paddled back to the beach, watching her in the distance.

"(Y/N)! Get back! It's too big!" he yelled.

She ignored him, she wanted to go all out. She had to show Niccolo what she could do before she left.

Standing up as the wave came up to her, she felt her feet slip and she fell into the water.

"Shit!"

Niccolo ran into the water, the wave crashed into the beach almost knocking him back. He saw her surfboard floating in the water heading towards the shore, it made him worried not seeing her on it.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled.

No response.

He saw her struggling in the water, it was deeper once you got further from the shore. She couldn't exactly stand in the water beyond the halfway point.

He lifted her up, her arms going around his neck. "Shit! Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her.

She coughed, spitting out the water that was in her mouth. "Yeah.."

Niccolo made his way back to shore with her around him. His grip on her waist was tight.

"Why the hell did you do that? You could have drowned," he said, placing her onto the ground.

She looked down at the ground. "It's nothing.." she replied. "I'll just go back inside."

She turned to grab her board, when suddenly Niccolo's hand went around her arm.

"No seriously.. what the fuck is going on with you? Something is clearly bothering you and I'm not leaving until you tell me," he said.

She sighed, dropping her board onto the sand. Her gaze averted towards the ground. "Niccolo.. my mom is making me come live with her during the school year. She called my dad and I'm leaving next week," she replied.

His eyes softened, "What? For real? Why? I thought she was fine with you staying with him," he said.

She sighed, "I guess she wants me home for a bit, but he did say during the summer I'm coming back." she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her gaze veered to the darkening clouds in the distance, she could faintly see the lightning flashing and the wind picking up.

"Well.. I guess we're gonna have to make it worth it," Niccolo said, smiling.

She furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

He chuckled, "We're going to make the last few days you're here fun, okay? You're my best friend (Y/N)... you deserve a good time before you go," he said, brushing his hand along her arm.

She felt tingles along her skin. "Well, I guess you're right. Plus I don't want to spend it all lonely," she giggled.

"Exactly! Now let's go chill! It's gonna storm anyway," he replied, taking her hand into his.

-

The rest of the day was so much fun. (Y/N) and Niccolo did so many things together, from making cookies, to (Y/N) doing his hair, watching movies, they had a blast together.

It was now night, the wind howled outside from the storm. Rain pounded against the roof and windows, it was quite late and (Y/N) wasn't sure how she'd get home.

"It's really coming down out there," Niccolo said, looking out the window.

Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the shoreline. The waves crashed onto the shore.

"I need to get back somehow," she said, looking at her phone.

Niccolo looked back at her. "Are you sure you want to? (Y/N) it's really bad out there," he said with concern in his voice.

She wasn't sure how to respond, her dad was cool with Niccolo, but if she stayed overnight would he be pissed? Her dad never trusted any guy besides Niccolo around her.

She decided to send a text to her dad.

(Y/N): hey uh.. idk if i can get back, it's really shitty outside.

Within seconds the grey bubbles popped up.

Dad: No worries. Niccolo's mom knows you're there, you can spend the night. I rather not have you coming out in the middle of a storm. Stay safe. I love you. No funny business either.

She looked over at him. "Well look's like my dad is fine with me spending the night," she said, grinning at him.

Niccolo seemed surprised, but nonetheless he was excited. "Alright bet! You wanna head upstairs? We can chill and do whatever," he asked.

She nodded, "I'd love that."

She followed him up the stairs to his room, she remembered this room all too well. Her and Niccolo spent so many days and nights together in there, even now as a teenager she still felt that nostalgia from it.

"I don't have any clothes.." she muttered to herself.

Niccolo turned back, "Oh, here! Put this on," he said, searching through his drawers for a shirt and shorts for her to wear.

He tossed her a grey shirt and some black shorts. "Thanks.." she said, smiling at him.

He felt his stomach do flips at the sight of her smile. "Yeah no problem.. it's not like you've never borrowed my stuff before," he replied, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

She felt her cheeks growing hot again, curse this boy and what he does to her. Exiting the room, she found herself in his bathroom. She peeled off the swimsuit which was damp from the surfing they did together, she threw on his shirt and shorts and tossed the swimsuit near the edge of the bathtub to dry.

Niccolo laid on his bed, staring at the screen of his phone. His eyes veered to the door where (Y/N) stood, his eyes taking in the sight of her in his clothes. It was something he liked, she was always so cute to him.

"You wanna come lay down?" he asked, patting the side of his bed.

She smiled, "Of course!"

She climbed onto his bed, her head lying against the pillows. Niccolo's face dusted pink, they hadn't been this close in a bed since they were kids.

"So uh.. you ready to move?" he asked, trying to ease the nervousness.

She sighed, "Not really.. I don't know anyone where my mom lives," she replied.

He chuckled a bit, "I'm always going to be here for you, don't be afraid to send me a text during class. You already know I'll respond, especially if it's you."

Her heart swelled, "Please! I'll need it," she giggled.

He smiled, opening his arms for her. "I'll need plenty of hugs."

She giggled and leaned into his embrace, she felt his warmth surrounding her. It felt.. good. It wasn't weird for the two to be like this, she had spent many nights in his embrace when things got hard with her parents. Niccolo was always the one to comfort her and he had no issue with that, whenever she needed him, he was there.

Her eyes felt heavy and eventually the two dozed off into a deep sleep.

-

The next six days were absolutely enjoyable. (Y/N) and Niccolo spent every single day together, whether it be surfing or simply spending time at their houses, they made the last few days together memorable. They took many photos and polaroids together.

Here they sat by the shore, watching the moon rise in the distance. The sun was now gone behind the clouds, the sky was painted with dark hues of blue and black.

(Y/N) wore his sweater, they just finished surfing not too long ago. Her hair was slightly damp.

"Can't believe this is really it.." Niccolo said, looking towards her.

She lied her head onto his shoulder. "It isn't forever Niccolo.. we have facetime and texting," she said.

"I know.. it's just so hard to believe my best friend won't be here for nine months," he replied.

She sighed, "It is hard to believe but.. I'll be home soon."

Her eyes looked at the moon in the horizon, the tide slowly came towards the shoreline, making the sand wet. The atmosphere was relaxing, the air was salty and warm, the tide was calm, and the moon was out without a cloud in the sky. It lit up the ocean before her.

She couldn't help but reminisce. She spent her whole life here, she loved the beach. She spent her whole life with Niccolo, he was so important to her.

Niccolo was her first friend, they met when they were toddlers. (Y/N)'s family was very close to Niccolo's, they would have sleepovers, celebrate birthdays, make sandcastles, and swim until the sun set.

Most importantly, Niccolo was the one who taught her how to surf. She remembered all the times she would see him hitting the waves, and she wanted to be just like him. Even as a little kid she had a desire to show him that she could do it.

There were many fails and tears of frustration shed, but eventually she did it. Niccolo was so happy to see her ride her first wave, he felt so proud.

There was good moments, but there were also bad ones. When her parents would fight until all hours of the night she found herself running to Niccolo almost every night. She spent many nights crying into his shoulder, in which he would comfort her.

It felt so long ago.

When she turned fourteen, that's when she found her feelings towards Niccolo were more than just being best friends. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say she loved him, her feelings never fizzled out and she always found herself being pulled back into him.

He could never know though, she didn't want him to freak out.

A sudden ping brought her out of her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and noticed the text from her dad.

"Gotta go?" Niccolo asked, looking at her phone screen.

She sighed, "Yeah.. it's late anyway," she replied.

She stood up with Niccolo, she dusted off any sand that was on her shorts.

"Wait."

She looked at Niccolo, cocking her head to the side. "What's up?" she asked.

Even in the darkness she could see his face turning pink. "I-I.. I've wanted to tell you this for such a long time, with you leaving.. I figured it'd be a good time to tell you," he replied.

She blinked, "What is it?"

"(Y/N).. I-I.. really, really, like you. Like.. I can't even explain what you do to me, you're so beautiful and having you as my best friend has been an absolute blessing. I like you so fucking much," he said.

Her eyes grew wide, hearing his confession made her heart swell and her cheeks heat up.

"Niccolo.. I-"

"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said, holding her hand. "I just... I can't get over you."

She smiled, "No Niccolo, I like you too. I like you more than a best friend," she replied.

He seemed surprised, "What? No, you're lying! You don't at all-"

"Niccolo shut up"

That's when her lips pressed onto his, at first he didn't move, but then he began to kiss her back. His hands found their way to her waist, bringing her body against his own. She put her arms around his neck, tugging at the blonde strands of his hair.

The kiss they shared was passionate, it was full of love and emotion from the hidden feelings they've had for so long.

They stood there for awhile, just kissing each other and embracing their skin.

He broke the kiss, hearing her phone. "Shit.."

She looked at her phone seeing another text from her dad.

Dad: Where are you?? Come home please

She sighed, "I gotta get going," she said, looking up at Niccolo.

He cupped her cheek, "Let me walk you home, for the last time." he said.

She smiled, taking his hand and walking with him to her house. She felt her heart tug a bit, realizing this was going to be the last time he'll walk her home for a long time.

She stood in front of the door. "I guess I'll see you next summer," she said, looking up at him.

He smiled, "I guess so.. but, just know I'll be waiting for you, (Y/N). That will never change," he replied.

He kissed her lips one last time. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight"

-

The next nine months were difficult, but manageable for (Y/N). She was home sick for a long time, she had to get used to a new environment and she had to make some new friends in the process. It was hard, but she did manage. Niccolo kept her going, he assured her summer would arrive soon and it'll all be over.

He was right.

It was now the end of May, she graduated from high school and it was now summer break. She was excited to come home to her dad, they didn't have a lot of time to speak, but he was happy to have her back home.

Stepping into the house she hadn't seen since August, she was greeted with her dad.

"Welcome back!" he said, hugging her.

She smiled, "Hey dad.. uh, mom told me to say bye," she replied, looking around her home.

He nodded, "Alright.. well, I made some changes to the house. I don't have to work outside anymore," he said.

She shook her head, "Well that's good."

He looked at her, "Niccolo has been looking for you. He stopped by earlier, you should go see him. I'm sure you both are eager to see one another," he said.

She felt a smile grow onto her face. "I should go see him.. I'll be back soon!" she said, opening the door to her house.

"Be safe!" her dad called.

She smiled before exiting her house. She missed the warm salty air, it had been so long since she had seen the ocean. That's not the part she missed the most though, it was Niccolo who she wanted to see the most.

She made her way to the shore, she knew she would probably find him there.

Niccolo sat on the sand, he stared at the ocean before him. The waves crashed onto the shoreline near his feet, his mind wandering to (Y/N) and where she was. He missed her dearly, he just wanted to see her.

"The ocean is a really great sight, huh?"

He turned his head to see (Y/N) standing there. "(Y/N)!" he yelled, standing up and hugging her tightly.

She almost fell to the ground. "Hi baby," she said with excitement in her a voice. A smile on her features.

He kissed her, God did he miss her lips. "It's so good to see you again," he cupped her cheek. "We need to catch up."

She smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "We have all day handsome," she replied.

He lifted her off the ground, a yelp escaping her mouth. "You best have a fresh pair of clothes," he smirked.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Tower (Part 2) The New Head of the Japan Branch

ITT: Caesar gets taken to task by Ruri Kazama and a familiar face appears before his eyes. @rurifangirl

Ruri Kazama had expertly hidden in plain sight, acting as a waiter right in front of the men. Now he sat down next to you, occupying the spot between you and Caesar, playing with a silver spoon in his hand.

Lu Mingfei was so shocked that he almost jumped up. The bar was located near the dance floor, illuminated only by a few bright green LED lights, and as a waiter, Ruri was in the darkness, his eyebrows picturesque, his clean brow reflecting that green light. He looked just like Chisei Gen, the leader of the Hydra in this light.

 Caesar pressed on Mingfei’s shoulders and slowly lowered him back into the seat: "It's okay, this isn’t the brutish one, this is the more delicate one. Do you need me to introduce you to him? Or would he like to introduce himself?" Caesar was looking at you, suddenly cut off by a man who had expertly escaped his notice. 

You sip your tea but your black eyes glitter with resentment. Did he really think you were still on his side?

 "Ruri Kazama, my real name is Chime Gen, the Dragon King and number two in the Devil Clan. Chisei Gen is my twin brother." The waiter said slowly, "Everyone should still call me Ruri Kazama, as my stage name.”

This was actually the first time you had heard of him as the twin brother of Chisei. But you weren’t exactly surprised.  Chisei mentioned that he had a brother that was ‘probably dead’ before.  After all, you were able to pick up on the close relationship between Z and Mingfei. But twins… that was even closer than ordinary brothers! You glance up at him, examining his face for even more telling similarities. It turned out that Chisei and Chime did look exactly alike, but it was Chime’s expressions and mannerisms that were completely different. Other than looks, there was nothing similar about the two.

The atmosphere at the table instantly cooled to freezing point. And no one broke the silence. The back of Chu Zihang's hand was so tense you could see the veins popping on his fingers. The palm of Caesar's hand hovered over the Desert Eagle at his back. The mixing spoon spun into a shifting silver light between Ruri Kazama's fingers. The speed of it was threatening.

You’d seen only a glimpse of Chime’s power on the street and he was no less of a monster than his brother. Even this spoon could be turned into a deadly weapon in his hands.

Kazama Ruri suddenly flipped his wrist, grasped the silver spoon firmly in his palm, and gently placed it on the table.

 "I… can I continue to eat?" Fingel said warily.

 Caesar froze for a few seconds, and his face turned furious as Ruri just turned back to Fingel, ignoring him.

 "Of course. You want soy sauce?" Ruri smiled and put the porcelain bottle containing soy sauce in front of him.

 "And are there fried garlic slices?" Fingel cautiously requested.

Caesar silently leaned his forehead on his hand.

Chu Zihang put the glass jar containing garlic crisp in front of Fingel. A few moments later the sound of someone eating noodles and drinking soup in a big bowl echoed around once again. Lu Mingfei reached out for a fried shrimp tempura only for Caesar to slap his hand away.

“Show a little professionalism and pay attention!" Caesar whispered.

The sudden display of temper out of Caesar made you look up. Caesar no doubt felt humiliated by Ruri Kazama’s ability to hide in plain sight. But there was more to it. By sitting between you, Ruri silently staked his claim and blocked his view of you. Caesar mentioned that he felt annoyed by the ease by which Ruri Kazama had been able to reach your heart. Now Kazama was physically separating you.

"It’s fine, let Heracles-san keep eating so we can get to the point." Ruri Kazama smiled, smoothly honoring Fingel as a member of the male escort community. As the King of such a community, his word was law and Fingel was officially knighted Heracles from now on.

Caesar and Chu Zihang looked at each other, the veins on the backs of both hands slightly subsided, and the frozen atmosphere melted soundlessly at the mention of food.

"The throne of the world of performance came to the store to do the waiter's job? How many days have you been here?" Caesar stared into Ruri Kazama's eyes.

 "I'm helping out in the kitchen, and this is the third day. I'm good at acting. With a simple change of hair and makeup, I can transform myself into another person." Ruri Kazama said, "Mr. Whale and the others didn't recognize me."

 "You were spying on us?"

"No, this way it’s easier to contact you guys. My brother knows I'm back, and he's looking for me, ready to send me back to hell. I have a famous face so if I come and go openly in Shinjuku district, there will be Hydra members ready to greet me, right?" Ruri Kazama laughed, "That wouldn't be good."

 "You were able to find Fingel. I guess the Devil Clan has long been aware that the principal had sent someone to infiltrate the Japanese, right?" Chu Zihang said.

 "Yes, but we can't conclude exactly how many people Principal Anjou sent." Ruri Kazama said, "I asked Mr. Fingel to come to the store to confirm something. The principal of your school has also been preparing to make a move against the Hydra. He realizes that there is some kind of instability within the ranks.”

"Tachibana Masamune?" Caesar asked.

 "Soon we'll know the truth," Ruri Kazama glanced at his wristwatch, "Three hours ago, the King General made a move. That viper is coming out of its hole, and our chance to join forces has come. So we need to show a united front." He looked back up. “Don’t you have something to explain to MC?”

The look in his eyes was always cold, but now that temperature has reached absolute zero!

Caesar’s expression became guarded and he glanced at you. “I will talk to her in private.”

Ruri Kazama let out a small breath. “I’ve been here three days. So I was here for the finale of the MC contest and heard her words at the end of the contest. You were working so perhaps you were distracted when she declared me the winner. What you say to her, you can also say to me.”

“But if you’re still hesitant, I’ll tell you what I know. Last night, there was a report of a rampaging Deadpool, A-rank level. I was in the area at the time, so I went quickly to investigate, but MC was already there. Her ability to dispatch a deadpool nearly ten times her size was a wonderful sight to see. But her fearlessness was extraordinary even among Elite members of the Execution Department. Unfortunately, my brother's men arrived and I had to pull her out of the fire. Which I was happy to do.”

“Before we get started on the current situation, I’d like to know… where were you?” Ruri Kazama turned to them and waited.

Chu Zihang hung his head. He looked devastated.

You can’t even look at Caesar. Your hair was up, so you couldn’t hide the hurt in your angry eyes. And that anger only grew as Caesar’s silence grew.

After a moment to give him a chance to explain, Ruri added. “If you don't answer, I will have to accept her impression of matters. To use her words: ‘You and Chu Zihang couldn’t bear her presence any longer.’”

Fingel’s spoon clattered as he dropped it and Ruri kindly patted his back as he choked, all the while, not breaking eye contact with Caesar Gattuso. “In that case, I will be happy to accept her as a member of the Devil Clan, if you’re going to relinquish custody and let her wander the street to die. She seems ready to go.”

Caesar sighed deeply. “Fine. MC, I had no intention of abandoning you on the boat. It was an act. In truth, I wasn’t sure what to do then. But Lu Mingfei had a look in his eyes. It wasn’t a look of someone who had any intention of doing anything so crass as leaving you to go to China.” 

He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit up, leaning against the table. “I was curious what he had in mind, so I decided to push him. Make him believe that I was serious, even to the point of giving him a gun to do the deed himself. The last thing I expected, though, was for you to turn on me too.” He grinned bitterly. “You were right. I was acting like Herzog. I read the files you gave me and, given the assholes in my family, it wasn’t hard for me to get into the head of someone like him. I thought, ‘MC knows me well enough by now to see through it as a bluff.’ But by the time I realized my mistake, I was already committed to the act and had to see it through to the end. I knew I was hurting you and ticking you off. I figured it would work out and we could talk later.”

He exhaled a puff of smoke. “But… I may have miscalculated that as well.”

Silence descended again.

Ruri Kazama finally looked down at you. His voice was very quiet. “Did he?”

It was always like this with Caesar. He established a little trust with you and then would simply break it, either intentionally or by accident. You’d seen this behavior before, particularly in the elevator when he pretended to be ready to shoot Chisei Gen for being a White King descendent who was more dragon than human. You really believed he would pull the trigger. So much that Chu Zihang had to whisper in your ear that he was bluffing.

You took a breath and speak. “After Lu Mingfei took me to the mountain and I calmed down, I figured you had some sort of plan. Maybe the boat was going to just stay off shore, or there was some secret scientist on the boat that would help my bloodline problem. But I still believed you would send me.” Your voice was low and sad. “I imagined those things to comfort myself so I wouldn’t focus on the fact that if I left Japan, I would die. So I reconciled in my heart that you really meant at least some of what you said. After all… I have never been anything but betrayed by every other man in my life. Why not you too?��

Caesar bit down hard on his cigarette. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to stay with them? Or come with me?” Ruri Kazama asked softly.

“We’re both staying in Club Takamagahara right? Can you arrange a room for me? Since we’re dating, I shouldn’t stay with them any longer. Instead, I should have my own place.”

“I can do that.” Ruri nodded.

You take a shaking breath. “We can talk a little more Caesar. Once I get a little sleep, I should be ready for that.”

“Sure… take your time.”

Ruri lifted his hand and traced it down one of the hanging strands of hair next to your face. When you get back to your room, the red ribbon that you tied to your thigh was gone and your face flushes as red as the ribbon was.

Because he was such a well known performer, he was able to provide you with one of the premier suites in the professional quarters of the Takamagahara. You went back to the old stuffy closet to collect your clothes, jewelry and shoes in a box. You then picked up the Sailor Moon doll still unopened in the box. Caesar had always been extremely kind to you. But he hadn’t been able to completely wash away the lingering distrust in your heart. It was probably going to be a lifelong battle against it and perhaps now, he learned that he couldn’t be so careless.

He knocked softly on the door and you nod to let him in.

“I wanted to apologize again, for hurting you.” He said. He was still in his work clothes, but he looked nothing like the suave debonair Basara King. He was just a young man. 

You were all young.

“Thanks.” You say and put the doll away.

“There’s more to it. I wanted to tell you before you made a decision. I was… extremely impressed by your defense of Erii.”

You lift your head again to him. He was leaning against the door frame and staring at the floor, his bangs shadowing his blue eyes so that they sparkled in the dark.

“With so little information and time, you came at me with all the force and fire of a true defender of justice. It was extremely hard for me to stand up to it. I was actually relieved when you left the room.” He huffed a laugh. “So I wanted to change our proposal that we talked about in the Sushi restaurant.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“I know the original plan was for you to run off with Ruri Kazama and his little traveling circus, but now, I’ve changed my mind. I want you to convince him to at least stay in Tokyo.” His face is full of sincerity as he speaks and his voice is soft and firm. “And I want you to take over the Japanese Branch.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“Hear me out.” He raises a hand. “I know you’re just a freshman and you haven’t taken a single class and, technically, you shouldn't even be allowed in the Academy. But none of that matters! What matters is that you were willing to take all three of us on to defend a girl who was dying and who you never met. You never met her, MC, but you immediately understood that what I was telling Mingfei to do was wrong. You said it was cruel. That we should know better.”

He paused and his voice dipped to a near whisper. “You have no idea how rare and precious a quality like that is.”

You’re speechless in shock. You thought Caesar was abandoning you. But he was admiring you!

“This place sorely needs someone who can stand up in defense of the weak and the helpless against the deep seated bloodshed and corruption. You personally know the men responsible for turning this place into such a hellhole… your qualifications speak for themselves.”

“But what about my bloodline problem?”

“I’ll write in the report that you don’t have one while we investigate a solution.” He said. 

“Everyone will know that’s a lie.” You chuckle.

“Who cares? I’d like to see them tell me to my face that I’m a liar.” Caesar raised his chin up.

You slide off the bed and walk over to him and pull him into a hug. “I talked to Erii. I already know the solution.”

He broke out of the hug and looked down at you with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yes. It’s the deadpool. The blood of the deadpool fetuses has a purifying effect.”

Caesar grimaced. “That… will be a little difficult. But I’ll see what I can do.” He huffed. “Alright, I’ll finish helping you pack. You really like that Ruri guy huh?” He looked over to the shelf and then he stared. 

The photo of Renata was still pinned where you left it. He stared at it for a long time.

“That’s Renata.” You say. “She’s pretty right?”

“Yeah.” Caesar shrugged. “It’s funny. She looks a lot like a girl I know in the Student Union so I did a double take. When this is all over, I should introduce you.”

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[chelsfic]

Together Alone - Request: Horacio Carrillo x Brazilian Reader, Narcos fanfic

A/N: This fic is a response to a request by @poeedamerons​ who asked for a Horacio x Brazilian Reader story. I really hope you like this. I got a little swept away and…ugh if you don’t like it can you just pretend that you do? Thanks! I’m tender like a little shrimp or something…

This fic jumps back and forth in time, starts out in the present and then flashes to memories of the reader’s relationship with Horacio. It’s probably confusing lol.

Warnings: light smut (so mild, so soft, hardly there)

***

“��A clandestine life shared with a man who was never completely hers, and in which they often knew the sudden explosion of happiness, did not seem to her a condition to be despised.” (Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez)

Horacio comes to you in the late hours, when the darkness on the streets of Medellín is just starting to recede with the coming dawn. He’s still dressed in his uniform and you widen your eyes at him in furious admonition, hurrying him inside before anyone can see the silver gleaming on his chest, the damning badge that stands between you always.

You round on him in the front hallway of your tiny apartment, speaking in a whisper, “Meu deus! What are you thinking, Horacio? What if someone saw you?”

It takes you a minute to calm down, to steady your frenetic heartbeat enough that you notice the way he’s standing rigid, frozen in place–but his hands are shaking. 

“Meu coração,” your voice wavers. “What is it?”

It’s dark inside your apartment. Horacio’s face is in shadow. You watch the lines of his broad shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“Pablo Escobar is dead.”

Your knees suddenly can’t support you and you fall back, leaning your weight against the wall, a hand to your chest. You feel for Horacio–you know what an enormous relief of his burden this must be. But you have to ask one thing first.

“And…my brother?”

Horacio closes his eyes, a muscle ticks in his jaw, he answers you in that gravelly-yet-soft voice you’ve grown to love, “Arrested, mi amor. He’s in custody. He’s safe.”

***

You meet Horacio Carrillo years earlier. Back when everything still feels simple, small, harmless. 

Your brother convinces you to come with him to Colombia, to Medellín: the heart of his new partner’s business. You’ve lived in Brazil your entire life, under the loving–if controlling–watch of your father. When Enzo tells you his plan: to get you into university, for both of you to live the lives you deserve far away from your overbearing father–well, you let yourself believe him even if you’ve never approved of what he gets up to out in the jungle. Enzo is your twin, though everyone who knows you always exclaims over your polar differences. You are the straight-laced bookworm. Enzo is the go-getter, the charmer, the hustler. As his twin you would think you’d be immune to his charm but–his enthusiasm is infectious.

And that’s what leads you here, to the moment you meet your future lover. Lined up with three others in a dark alleyway, watching the intimidating police colonel pace back and forth before you, deciding your fate.

“So…” his voice is gravelly but lighter than you would have imagined. Somehow it only adds to the calm, controlled violence that seems to lurk beneath the surface of his too-tight uniform shirt. “We know your vehicle was seen camped down the street from the roadblock. We know you tipped off Pablo’s sicarios and caused me and my men to waste our time. What we don’t know is…which one of you is smart enough to see you’re on the losing side?”

Your Spanish has improved exponentially during your months in this country but you still find yourself focusing with unusual intensity in order to parse the Colonel’s words. Sweat breaks out on the back of your neck and you shift nervously from foot to foot. You’re going to kill Enzo. He said he’d send someone to pick you up when your study group ran late–he didn’t tell you he was sending criminals.

The Colonel goes down the line, questioning each of you. By the time he reaches you he’s sent the others away in handcuffs. They refused to cooperate. Now it’s just you and he, alone except for the officer stationed at the entrance to the alley.

His eyes scan your outfit. You’re wearing blue jeans and a nice sweater your father gave you last Christmas. He narrows his eyes as he addresses you, “You’re different from the others…”

How much should you say? Caralho! Enzo is such an idiot. He’s never prepared you for something like this.

Well, the truth then. You’re a terrible liar…

“I don’t really…know them, sir,” you try to sound respectful but your eyes are locked onto the holstered gun at his side. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“Maybe,” he answers breezily. “Or maybe you can help me. You don’t know these people? How did you end up in a car with them?”

Meu Deus. 

“My…friend sent them to pick me up from school. I’m a student, sir. I don’t know anything about a roadblock or–”

“I believe you,” he interrupts, putting his hands in his pockets and observing you with a look of cautious interest. “Tell me about you friend.”

***

“He’s really safe?”

You’ve dreamed of this for so long. The end of lying, of secrecy, of fear. Enzo will think it a betrayal, but at least he’ll be alive to hate you. Pablo was a madman by the end. And your brother had no more friends left. There was no other way.

Horacio comes to you, stepping into your arms and letting his forehead drop to lean against yours, “Really, Y/N. It’s finally over.”

You turn your head toward his, just a fraction of an inch, an invitation. Horacio slides into the kiss like he’s coming home. His soft lips caress against yours, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of your mouth, delving inside and brushing against your own. Once his kisses felt forbidden, dangerous. Now kissing Horacio feels like the most natural thing in the world.

***

The first time he kisses you is the first time he asks you to wear a wire. 

You’ve given Carrillo enough solid tips for him to trust you as an informant. As an informant, mind you. Colonel Carrillo doesn’t fully trust anyone. The deal is you’ll help him. But you can’t give up your brother. Deep down you know that one day you’ll have to make a choice. A choice to save your brother by betraying him. But it’s not that day yet.

“I brought something for you,” Carrillo says, warming his hands on the mug of coffee you’ve provided. He’s sitting at the little kitchen table in your apartment. Street clothes. No gun. It’s still risky but better than meeting in public. 

You sit down across from him with your own cup of coffee and you regard him with a surprised smile, “Really?”

Carrillo’s lips quirk into a sardonic grin as he pulls out the wire and transmitter, placing them on the table between you. 

“Next time I’ll bring flowers,” he jokes. 

You swallow against your suddenly dry throat, “I thought we already discussed this.”

Carrillo reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. His calloused fingers rub soothing circles into your skin and he looks into your eyes with that intensity with which you’ve grown so familiar. This man is dedicated to his mission, some might even say obsessed. You wonder what would happen if you ever came between him and his goals. The thought sends a tiny shiver down your spine. 

“Look. I know you’re nervous. But nothing is going to happen to you, okay? I’ll show you how to put it on so no one will notice. This party you told me about? You said you think Escobar might even be there? This is a chance we can’t pass up. I need you, Y/N.”

You inhale sharply. Those words–I need you–his hand holding yours. You look into his molten gaze and try to read this mercurial man. Does he know how you think of him? Over the months of working for him, slowly earning his grudging trust, living together in the loneliness of your secret–you’re falling in love with him. And if he’s using that to get you to do this…

“Alright,” you answer, your voice cracking. “What do I do?”

You show him the summer dress you’re planning to wear to the barbecue. It’s floral, sleeveless, with a diaphanous bell skirt and a modest knee-length hemline. He regards it critically.

“Do you have a sweater you can wear over it?” he murmurs, fingering the thin fabric.

You shake your head and reply with nervous irritation, “No! That will be suspicious, Horacio! It’s the middle of the Summer. It will be hot out…”

It’s the first time you’ve used his given name, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His brow is knit with concentration. 

“It will work, you’ll just need to hide the transmitter some place…” he coughs and actually looks away with the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

If Carrillo’s uncomfortable it’s nothing to your mortification. You grab the wire from his hands and march furiously into your bathroom. 

“Foda-se,” you grumble under your breath. Fuck it. This can’t get any more awkward right?

You emerge from the bathroom a few moments later, transmitter nestled securely in your biggest, granniest panties. The wire is taped across your torso, as Carrillo instructed, with the tiny microphone hidden worryingly close to the neckline of the dress.

You look up at Carrillo, anxiety rolling off of you in waves, “Are you sure no one will notice?”

Carrillo doesn’t respond right away. His eyes are glued to the pleasing swell of your curves beneath the thin fabric of the dress. It’s the first time he’s shown any kind of weakness to your femininity and you preen a little at the thought–even if you’re still quaking with worry over wearing a wire in the presence of violent criminals. That sobering thought is enough to flood you with fear once more and you actually tremble.

“H-Horacio? They won’t be able to notice?” you repeat.

Carrillo takes a step forward. He adjusts the neckline of your dress, letting his fingers just skim along the path of the wire, between your breasts, over the soft curve of your belly. Your lips part and you release a silent gasp at his touch. He’s watching you with those intense eyes again.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, his voice a soft, rasping whisper in the silence of your apartment.

“But you can’t promise–”

Your words are cut short when he takes you by the shoulders and plants a kiss on your lips. He’s warm and soft and firm against you. His kiss is surprising. He’s tender and tentative, pressing a few soft pecks to your full lips before allowing himself to deepen the kiss and dart out his tongue. You melt into him, hanging limp in his hands. If this is manipulation–if he’s doing this to claim your loyalty so he can complete his mission–well…you don’t care.

***

You fall into bed. Articles of clothing discarded like wilted flower petals on your path to the bedroom. Horacio still wears the cooled sweat of the chase on his skin, his muscles ache and he’s more exhausted than he’s ever felt. But he needs this. He needs to anchor himself in your body, your gentle love, to remind himself why. Why he’s fought and schemed and betrayed his morals for years. For his country, yes. For the people, yes. The victims, of course. But also–also for this moment of quiet, soft surrender, when he can finally take you as his own for all the world to know. 

“Querido,” you sigh into his lips. You lay your hands on his shaking shoulders, “Be with me now, amor. Shhhh.”

“I need you now,” he responds in a husky voice that’s barely controlled. “Right now.”

“You have me, Horacio.”

And he does.

***

Carrillo never tells you if he gleans anything useful from the recording that you risked your life to obtain at your brother’s party. He kisses you, sends you out to risk your life, and then you don’t hear from him for weeks. Living this double life is lonely and Carrillo–your handler as he calls himself–is the only person in whom you can confide. But he’s too busy enacting whatever insane mission your intel has enabled. You just pray it doesn’t get him killed. Or Enzo. Or you.

Tonight you’re going to forget about all that. You’re out with friends, dancing, drinking, and acting as if you don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders for once. It feels good, although you can’t help but think about what it would feel like to be this carefree and open with Horacio. Horacio, your brother’s enemy…your boss…the man with whom you can’t be seen in public without fearing for your secret–your life. What would it be like to dance with him?

As if you’ve manifested him with your thoughts, Carrillo appears at the bar, his eyes trained on you with scorching intensity. You’re caught in his gaze, your hips gyrating to the music, your dance partner’s hands skimming over your waist even as you broadcast your yearning, your desire, to the man across the room.

You’re unsurprised to find Carrillo lurking in the shadows outside your apartment door when you return home later that night. You’d spent hours dancing and watching him, feeling emboldened by the distance between you and the crowded room. Now it’s just the two of you, hurrying into the sanctuary of your apartment, together and alone once again. He looms over you in the dark entryway. The fact of his large, powerful body is impossible to ignore. You feel yourself drawn to him like the sea to the shore, aching and rocking to meet with him in a crash like the waves breaking on the sand. 

“When I saw you with that guy tonight…” Horacio grumbles, backing you up against the wall and setting his hands on your hips–claiming you in the places your dance partner had touched.

“I know,” you whisper, letting your own hands trace up the solid muscles of his belly, his chest. “I wanted to be dancing with you.”

He looks into your eyes, he doesn’t need to say the words–you can’t dance together. You can’t go to dinner or get drinks or even take a walk together. If anyone saw you, the sister of one of Pablo Escobar’s most trusted associates, consorting with Colonel Horacio Carrillo of the Colombian National Police…well.

But here in the quiet darkness of your apartment you can have him for your own. 

“I want you, Horacio. I know we can’t be together but…”

Your words unleash him. He smashes his lips into yours, capturing you in a fierce, bruising kiss. Horacio wants you too. He wants you for his own. Wants to take you out dancing and show you off to his friends. But he can’t. Not until this is all over. For now, all he has is this. So he’ll claim you, mark you with his body, his hands, his lips. And one day–one day…

You make love in your bed, in the soft light of the street lights filtering in through the window blinds. Horacio is somehow gentle and rough, fast and slow. He loves you thoroughly with a reverence and a dedication to your pleasure that makes you want to weep. But he is also intent on leaving every mark he can on your skin. You have bruises on your hips and the red blemishes of kisses and bites on your shoulders and breasts. When it’s over you lay in his arms, shaking and clinging to him, afraid to let him go because you know when he leaves this place he walks out into danger. 

“I wish I could keep you, meu coração,” you whisper, the words dancing over his naked chest. 

He heaves a sigh and tightens his arms around you, “Me too, mi corazón.”

***

When Horacio enters you it’s like it was the first time. Gentle and rough, urgent and languid, every contradiction that lives in the heart of your messed up relationship, all at once. You feel a bubble of happiness expand inside you and you’re terrified. Because you’ve spent the last two years quelling your hopes, quieting your foolish wants. You’ve spent your whole time with this wonderful, brave, beautiful man knowing in your heart that he can’t truly be yours. Not while his enemy lives.

And now? On the night that he comes to you with the news that it’s all over, that you can finally rest, you can be together–for real? You’re scared. Scared that maybe none of this is real. Maybe he only loved you because of what you were to him: a secret key to unlock his enemy’s weaknesses. What are you now? What can you offer this man?

Horacio moves over you, rocking his hips against yours, sighing your name as he drops kisses to your forehead. 

“Mi amor,” he cries, his release quivering inside you as he drops his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you.”

You turn your head to watch him. His eyes have already drifted shut and his breathing is evening out. He’s utterly unguarded and comfortable in this place you’ve created together. As you watch him fall asleep you let your hand drift down to press against your lower stomach and the secret inside that you’ve kept for ten weeks. You imagine you can feel the little one shifting inside you, although it’s far too soon for that.

Your lips curl into a hopeful smile as you think about the world your child will inherit thanks to the bravery of its father…and mother.

Tag List:

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[caffeinatedtimdrake]

congratz on the 200! Please could you do Dickyboy x female reader with the prompts 42.“You look…” “Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?”, 57.“You love her don’t you?” “Was it that obvious?”, and 59.“I was just kind of hoping that you’d, y’know…. fall in love with me.”? Thank you so so much

2.1k of our darling Dick Grayson feeling flustered because he’s got a big fat crush on the reader. I hope you like it!!

42.“You look…” “Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?”

57.“You love her don’t you?” “Was it that obvious?”

59.“I was just kind of hoping that you’d, y’know…. fall in love with me.”

Artemis watches you spin in several circles, arms angled awkwardly over your shoulders, attempting to zip up your dress, before you promptly collapse on the bed with an exasperated shriek. 

She clears her throat, eyebrow arched. “You know, I could…help you.”

You grimace. 

“The magic word is please.” She informs you, standing up and striding over to you. The emerald gown flows off of her elegant, wiry frame, gentle against her curves and pulling the pretty olive tone from her skin. 

You feel like a hot mess next to her, bunching your hair up so she can tug the zipper up against your spine. She pats your shoulder reassuringly and you sulk, letting your hair drop and your shoulders sag. 

“Thank you,” You grumble. 

“What’s got you down in the dumps? We’re going to eat fancy little appetizers and drink fruity things and there will be no shortage of eye candy. This banquet is going to be a little slice of heaven.” She smirks when she sees you flush. “But eye candy doesn’t matter to you, though. You’re holding out for one charming Richard Grayson, hm?” 

You turn away from her, marching stiffly toward the bathroom to finish applying a delicate layer of mascara. “Am not!” 

That was a lie. You were absolutely enthralled at the prospect of ogling at Dick in a flattering tux and hearing his boisterous laughter. You weren’t overly fond of fancy banquets and pretentious small talk and perilous high heels, yet they were integrated heavily into your graduate school experience – but maybe that only happens when you receive a Wayne Enterprises scholarship to one of the most prestigious law schools on the coast and are required to fraternize at fundraising galas filled to the brim with Gotham’s most elite. 

“You look beautiful, Y/N. He’s going to drool.” 

The compliment makes you outrageously self-conscious, even though it comes from one of your closest companions. Your hands are cold as you press them against your heated cheeks. It even makes you a little bashful to look in the mirror, face adorned with a little more makeup than usual and a simple hairdo. It makes you nervous to be so dolled up. You like simplicity and predictability, comfortably situated in a defined schedule. You are grounded yet flexible, entrenched in routine but adaptable to the changes thrown at you in the form of revised deadlines and additional papers. You know your aspirations and what you wanted from life and you know your limits. 

But you don’t know how to function properly in front of Dick Grayson. 

This fact is calamitous considering you must collaborate with him often, working out of a public attorney office down the street from the police station to exchange information addressing both criminals and victims. Professionalism usually comes easily to you, polite handshakes and appropriate jokes, but when Dick pops into the office with a file of information and your favorite espresso, you almost always stutter and fall over – even if you’re already seated. 

But being around Dick has developed into an unfortunate borderline addiction. Something about his emphatic energy and cloying compassion and aquamarine eyes leaves you wanting more and more each time he utters your name. You thought you’d been inconspicuous about the moon eyes and dreamy sighs until one afternoon a few months ago when Artemis asked if you’d made out with him in the custodial closet yet. When you sputtered a horrified denial of such a thing, she had casually shrugged and demanded an invitation to the wedding someday. 

“Pinky promise me you’ll say at least five words to him tonight.” 

You wrinkle your nose at her, and she huffs. 

“It’s not impossible, Y/N! And you must know he loves talking to you. He practically melts when you smile at him. I’ve seen it!” 

You emerge from the bathroom to dig around in your closet for a pair of shoes. You tug out your cutest, most painful pair of pumps. “I don’t like breaking promises. And I would definitely break that promise. And do you think I’d break my ankle if I wore these?” 

Artemis squints. “Potentially. But they make your legs look hot. And if you break an ankle, Dick can just carry you around.”

You groan and drop the shoes.

She launches herself off the couch and comes to stand in front of you, grinning. “C’mon, let’s practice.” Her voice drops and octave. “Hey, Y/N, glad to see you here. How’s your night going?”

You snort and shrug. “Oh. It’s going alright. I was just kind of hoping that you’d, y’know…fall in love with me and father my firstborn. No big deal.” 

Artemis fixes you with a serious look but her mouth twitches in amusement. “That can be arranged.” She manages to maintain the deep voice before erupting into giggles – and it’s contagious. 

You lean over to wrench your foot into the heel. “One step at a time.”

The penthouse is like a dream, decorated with string lights and gold streamers and southern magnolias in a way that’s both cozy and sophisticated. Wide glass doors open to reveal a large balcony, more flowers wound around stone and matte iron, sweetening the summer evening breeze. Above the murmur of conversation, a quaint orchestra plays near the entrance beneath a sign that welcomes guests to the gala, raising money for organizations that help people formerly incarcerated for non-violent offenses find stability. 

“B really went all out for this, huh?” Jason muses, swirling a glass of red wine.  

“It’s the last big benefit before summer begins and things get too crazy. He might as well have.” Dick shrugs and thanks a waiter for some sort of cute-looking pastry on a toothpick. 

“I wonder if we’ll double the donation amounts this year. Actually, I bet Steph we would because there are two dozen more checkbooks in this room than last year.” Tim declares. 

Damian arches an eyebrow. “Does it qualify as dehumanizing to refer to people as checkbooks?”

“Only if they hear you.” Jason replies, stealing a slice of pineapple off of Damian’s plate. 

The boys have taken momentary refuge from socializing in a corner near the balcony doors, hovering over a shared plate of appetizers with complicated names. 

And then you walk in, downright radiant, and Dick nearly chokes on a shrimp. 

He keels over, coughing and wheezing, and Jason tentatively pats his back, offering him his glass. Seeing as water is not an immediate often and you look so good, he’s going to have a conniption, Dick takes several large gulps from Jason’s glass. 

Damian watches him curiously. “Might I ask why you nearly hacked up a lung?”  

“It’s more like he nearly hacked up his heart. The pretty girl he’s been enamored with for ages just walked in.” Tim grins. 

Dick wants to deny it, but his voice is tight, and he’s beyond flustered – plus, it’s the undeniable truth. He’s been besotted for months. 

“I’ll bet…a cat…that Dick makes a move by the end of this evening.” 

Tim holds up his hands in defense. “There’s no need to bet. It’s going to happen.” 

Jason grins at Dick, who appears rather overwhelmed. “Pinky promise.”

You find it incredibly difficult to resist searching for Dick when you enter the penthouse – so difficult, in fact, that you fail and end up ogling at every dark-haired man that pops into your field of vision. When you finally spot him, across the room looking decidedly mouthwatering in a navy tuxedo, you blush violently, and Artemis knows instantly about your discovery. 

“You are beautiful, Y/N. Inside and out. And he knows it. Just go talk to him! Take a drink over to him! Then let him take you home.” 

She’s informed you of her perception of your beauty at least twenty times since the car ride here and you were about to lose it. “Absolutely not!”

She taps the top of her wrist, referring to a nonexistent watch. “The clock is ticking, Y/N.” 

You glower and shove a crab cake into your mouth. 

The clock doesn’t have to tick for long before you find yourself an arm’s length away from Dick Grayson at the dinner buffet. 

He looks impossibly more stunning this close up, glancing at you coquettishly through his lashes in a way that nearly makes you stumble face first into the pasta. 

“Enjoying the evening so far I hope?” 

You nod dumbly, hoping he doesn’t see the way your hands shake when you pluck a piece of bread from the pile. “It’s lovely. Are you?” You peek up at him shyly, throat constricting that charming smile. 

“You are,” He says softly, pausing with a pair of salad tongs in his right hand. A sharp jab in the rib from Jason and the panicked expression across your face ground him immediately – and by that he means he comes crashing back to earth in a big, frantic, fiery explosion. 

Dick clears his throat forcefully, but his voice still cracks a little. “I – oh god, um why did I – w-what I mean to say is that yes, y-you are right, it is lovely.” 

You’re so flustered, you can only look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth, so he promptly bids you goodbye and books it back to the table. 

Artemis nudges you along and laughs in a low tone, one that makes your jaw tic. 

“You’re beautiful, he’s beautiful, and you’ll have beautiful babies. I’m thinking the color scheme of the wedding should be Caribbean blue – like the color of his eyes, you know?” 

You know. Too well.

Jason cackles and recounts the dinner fiasco to the table while Dick tensely stabs some steamed carrots, face flaming. 

“You love her, don’t you?” Tim quirks an eyebrow. 

“I don’t – she just – oh, for god’s sake.” Dick exhales deeply in exasperation, deflating like a tired balloon, and then recoils a little. “Was it that obvious?”

Jason snorts. “She said less than five words and you gawked at her like she was infinitely better than sliced bread. Or any type of breakfast cereal.”

Damian tilts his head inquisitively. “Is that what the romantic variation of love does to a young man?”

“Among other things.” Jason smirks. 

“Hm. Interesting.” 

Dick eats the rest of his dinner half-heartedly, pushing around seasoned vegetables and steak cooked to perfection. 

“I think you should go talk to Y/N.” Jason tells Dick earnestly.

Dick winces. “I don’t want to make a fool out of myself. I really like her.” 

“She spent ninety percent of the last half-hour glancing in your direction. I think that maybe she really likes you, too.” Tim offers. 

“She’s at the dessert table. Go tell her how you really like chocolate cake. And her face.” Jason nods in your direction and Dick drags his gaze from his brother over to you a little too eagerly. 

You’re intensely studying the array of frosted cake pops, features pulled into a darling frown. 

Dick pushes out his chair and stands abruptly. “I’m going to do it.” 

“He’s going to do it!” The boys cheer. 

“I’m going to die.” 

The boys boo him.

“Been there, done that. And let me tell you, there are no cute girls.” 

Dick takes that with a grain of salt and wishes his legs were a little shorter, so he had more time to prepare. But nothing can prepare him for the alluring curve of your neck and shoulders that he wants to kiss and the scent of your perfume that leaves him cotton-mouthed and the endearing little tendrils falling out of your hairdo that he wants to twirl around his fingers.

He comes to a stop, just lingering on the edge of your space.

He fumbles over his words for several painful moments before, “You look…” 

You stiffen and bristle, expecting to glare agitatedly at Artemis. “Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?” 

And then you turn around to see Dick Grayson, aqua eyes blown wider than the moon, rosy hue blossoming rapidly across the apples of his cheeks. 

You audibly gasp and proceed to flail your arms frantically. “Oh no. OH NO. I didn’t mean you! I thought you were – oh, fuck, I messed up – why is this happening? I’m s-so sorry, Dick! I didn’t know it was going to –”

His mouth slides up into a bemused smile, teasing and tender. “I’m glad you know you look good, Y/N.” 

Your mouth snaps shut, and you think you probably look like a steaming tomato, but you’re enchanted by that mouth and that low voice, so you can’t help but lean into his space.

Dick’s gaze flits up to the ceiling. “B-but I don’t think I can really move on. I’ve been stuck on you for, like, a really long time.” 

“Good.” You breathe. “Let’s stay stuck. Together.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaving his fingers against the side of your neck for a moment too long, bringing a new wave of bashfulness to the surface of your skin. “That can be arranged.”

[kariachi]

Last episode of the day, and then I’m gonna be trying to organize shit on my Kevin Episode Order list. Actually been looking forward to this one, because I have reason to believe it has Information that I, as a Kevin fan and fanwriter, require.

Let’s start up to Adrenaland Jr.

I would like to point out that I typed up the above at 2pm and it is now 5pm. I am a disaster and mildly afraid of this episode. Also went out to dinner. Scallops and shrimp, it was nice. Moving on.

I still love that Max joins in on the selfie at the end of the intro. I’m sorry, it just warms my little black heart.

Ben, disheartened because Gwen wins at everything she does. Ever.

“You guys will be thanking me for days!“ Good luck, Max.

Oh look, they have been taken to a themepark. The Adrenaland Jr of the title. Adrenaland but kiddified. They do not seem impressed at this first look.

Awww, Max thought this was the same as normal Adrenaland and was trying to be cool. Poor Max.

Okay, scratch that. Ben is unimpressed, Gwen is more than happy to get another Adrenaland pin for her collection. As somebody who collected pressed pennies until they started asking for a whole damn dollar for them, I can relate.

Well she’s a little bit enthusiastic, in case anyone wondered if she and Ben were maybe related.

Max is trying so hard. And Ben is so unimpressed. And Gwen gives no shits because she has a pin to acquire.

Oh gods, she’s gonna have to beat a carnival game to get a pin. All her skills will be put to the test.

And it looks like this really is the one for kids, that is defs a ‘my first rollercoaster’.

The puns are horrible. That alone is worth not coming back to this park.

Ben: I must make this a good ride, so help me god *goes alien*

And we’re back to Gwen’s PinQuest

Oh she was so sure of herself, but Gwen this is a carnival game and so probably rigged to some degree.

Ben please don’t ruin this for the small children.

Left the littles nauseated after altering the ride, which is against the rules. Good job Benjamin, I hope this weighs on your conscience.

...these people are chill, very politely explaining why what Ben did was wrong and giving him a second chance to not fuck with shit before they’re going to move on to actual reprimands.

Ben, I swear to fuck.

Not the teacups, dear gods leave the teacups alone

Goddamnit Ben

Leave the people on the jungle safari alone, child! wtf!

Max is giving him a fourth chance to behave, honestly he’s a more patient man than me.

Even the park staff have had enough.

Stewart (worker of the game Gwen is failing miserably at) is both amazed she’s doing so poorly and also trying to be encouraging. Not quite working.

Also I’m nearly halfway through this episode and wondering where my son is at. I know he’s in this episode I’ve seen screenshots

There is a ‘ride’ that is just playing in a load of socks falling from the sky. Honestly I can almost see the appeal.

There’s my son! Bootleg-ing a Sock Tower. I am both disappointed and proud somehow.

Fucking flails, child? Have you considered adding maybe an ounce of chill to your diet?

Please let these two end up commiserating over how lame these rides are.

(I will admit though I did kinda want this to be something I could put as Kevin officially meeting Gwen, have him show her how to beat that game because he’s bored and holy shit she’s bad at this. It would’ve been nice and a good start to him kinda liking her while still giving her cousin shit.)

Kevin!

“There’s definitely something strange going on here“ Yes and it’s about 4′10 with an attitude problem and no sleeves

Oh look, a Kevin again. I think he’s ruining the day of the people on a ferris wheel, but it’s moving too fast to be sure.

“Dweeby-son and Dweeby-senior“ I feel like I should be judging him for the lack of variety but honestly fuck it, stick to a theme kiddo, live your dreams

“Of course you’d be here at the baby park“ Bitch, you are here too!

Oh lords and Ben can’t even hear him from up there

“See Ben, Kevin likes this park. It is cool!“ Max please.

“Better stop him before he starts destroying somethign else“ Just the tone Ben uses here, and the look on his face. Like a beagle owner whose dog just got really quiet in the backyard so they know it’s halfway across the county by now.

The boys pausing a fight on a roller coaster so a bunch of little kids could go past, because Kev’s a jerk and Ben is reckless but they’re not bad kids at heart.

Damn, Kevin is kicking ass and taking names today

Awww, little kid with a watergun trying to put out Heatbast

Gwen, meanwhile, is about to snap and start wearing people’s skins if she doesn’t beat this game. Kinda worrying Stewart.

Gwen is holding this man hostage until she beats this game. She is the biggest threat to this park right now.

Ben can at least read a room enough to figure out Kevin’s in a fouler mood than usual. Ponders if Kevin has issues with Adrenaland he’s working out with violence. And I am paused right here because, again, I’ve seen screenshots and I am scared.

Yep, my son is in a Mood.

Oh lords the boys ruined Gwen’s near win. Everybody run for shelter!

Sometimes, you look at these boys, and you think ’if they had any sort’ve chill, would they just die?’

Gwen so pissed off she knocked both of them back to human shape and has them cowering with naught but tone and expression

Even when she’s pissed she tries to be reasonable.

Oh gods Kevin pain incoming.

...welp. It’s brief but it damn well don’t need to be longer, we get plenty of info right there. Especially when you keep in mind that this is a visual medium and every choice is deliberate especially with shit like this. Gotta love that ‘subtle’ implication through the use of commercials that Kevin was raised by an alcoholic. If you didn’t read this in slightly forced manic tone, you are wrong.

Also I like the difference between the view we get of Kevin when it’s Kevin’s flashback as opposed to Ben’s. Ben’s flashbacks of Kevin in school have all had him as a joyful tormentor, active, outgoing, and very forward. Meanwhile, the little bit we get from Kevin’s pov has him very clearly alone, head down, not even glancing at the people around him. He doesn’t look up in the flashback until he’s home, and even then the look is one of contempt as he looks towards the front room. For the commercial, for his guardian, for both? We don’t know for sure. Then, when we come back from the commercial to face him again, he just looks tired before turning and heading up the stairs.

Actually, I am still horribly curious. I’m fairly certain all the other flashbacks with him, including his own, include his sleeves being gone, while they’re still around for this one. And the house he built his watch in was very clearly a one-story, while this one appears to be two-story, given the stairs and that Kevin seems to have just come in. Brings me back to my earlier wondering about if he was in foster care or something when we first met him. Or maybe he’s stuck in a dual custody situation, who knows. Just interesting little bits and pieces.

Gwen feels sorry for Kevin, as well she should, everyone should, somebody protect my child.

Ben: I’m done! If you’re a dick because your said then god as my witness you will stop being sad!

Kevin got his ride, and they’re getting kicked out before Gwen can get her pin.

The Tennysons are confused and Kevin unimpressed at the threat of using teddy-bear-based excessive force to remove them

Oh lords they’re being shoved out using squeaky teddybears

Max: At least we aren’t banned this time Park Employee: btw, here’s a You’re Banned pin

Kevin Levin, maintaining the tough-guy facade

Kevin: This park is only for dweebs Ben: This picture of you enjoying the fuck out of that ride I altered says otherwise

Gwen: I thought we got through to him Ben, who knows Kevin much better than she does: Oh we did

Gwen: *much feeling sorry for a Kevin* Kevin: *much ‘wow I actually enjoyed myself with other people for once’*

11/11 for Kevin and for Gwen

[gryffindormischief]

I have a challenge... “but Harry, I’m wearing a skirt” 🤭🤭

A/N: I know you will be SO shocked by this @shining-jul-of-hope hehee.  I hope you enjoy it as much the second time through :) :) :) This was a fun prompt

Also available on FF and Ao3!

Astriculus

Hermione and Ron’s wedding ceremony was in a little chapel. The same little chapel where Hermione’s parents were married twenty or thirty years earlier. Ginny can’t be sure. Hermione has said so many things over the last six months, the last year really, that Ginny was bound to forget some things.

The brain has a way of prioritizing, and apparently decided ‘Auntie Helga hates shrimp cocktail but loves to talk about it’ was much more important than however long the Grangers have been married. It’s not much of an issue considering both pieces of trivia are fairly banal and definitely won’t come up.

At least not for Ginny. After the ceremony went off without a hitch - thank god - they’d had a short reception in the church hall had been enough that Muggle friends and family had believed it to be the full extent of the celebrations. Once the room cleared and the mess had been taken care of, the Weasley-Granger-Potter family trooped off to Ottery St. Catchpole for the real reception.

It had taken some time to come to a decision about the separation, but in the end, Hermione and Ron agreed that the only way to even potentially avoid George’s antics taking place in front of Muggles was to give him an alternate outlet.

Which means Ginny and Harry’s main duties as maid of honor and and best man centered around keeping George from hijinks that shift from endearing and memorable fun to George needs to be taken into custody for his own protection.

But Hermione and Ron disappeared in a swirl of tulle and satin about a quarter of an hour earlier and Ginny just needs - she needs.

The dance floor is still filled with couples turning circuits, the buffet picked over but with enough left that Charlie’s apparent intent to stock up like he’s going into hibernation rather than going home to Romania is still possible, and Teddy, Victoire, and the other kids have drifted off to sleep. Mainly strewn over the laps of their respective adults, though Teddy seems to be enjoying a doze beneath the main dais, his carefully shined dress shoes peeking out in the dim light.

Ginny’s wondering if she needs to delay her little escape when she spies Andromeda making her way across the dance floor toward her grandson with an endeared smile playing on her lips.

With a soft grin of her own, Ginny pulls the ever tightening straps of her heels loose and sighs as her much abused toes curl in the lush green grass.

The air is cool against her champagne flushed cheeks and the moon a pale sliver overhead. Still, the night isn’t too dark. Ottery St. Catchpole is a true country village, each star in the sky visible and winking at her from a blanket of deep cobalt.

A cracking twig, perhaps a leaf or two, startles Ginny from her contemplation of the velvety sky and she’s about half a second away from getting her assailant in a choke hold when she smells that spicy cinnamon cologne that only makes its appearance on the most special days. “Harry.”

There’s a smile in his voice when he answers, “Ginny.”

“Such a little stalker you are. Who would’ve guessed?”

“I dunno, probably pretty much everyone who knew me sixth year. Though I would like to go on record that Malfoy was up to something.”

Ginny continues picking her way through the trees as she chuckles, a quiet, flirty thing. “I had other things on my mind with regard to you in sixth year.”

“You say that like it’s not the case most of the time.”

“Don’t contribute to the perpetually randy Harpies stereotype.”

Harry’s fingers find hers in the dark. “I could say the same to you.”

They share a short laugh before silence falls, broken by the crunch of leaves and the night song of crickets chirping from their hidden places among the trees.

As they breach the treeline, Ginny’s pace slows and Harry comes even alongside her. Another wind rustles through the trees and Ginny shivers.

“Would it be too cliche to give you my jacket?”

Ginny hums. “Yes, but I’m quite chilly so hand it over.”

She takes a deep breath once Harry’s scent surrounds her and resumes her meandering path, leaving Harry to take care of her sandals.

Eventually, they end up in the middle of the swaying grasses that fill the paddock out behind the Burrow, stars winking at them from above and Ginny’s hair a mess of flyaways. Though the fresh air has cleared her head of the remaining bubbly muddle of champagne after effects.

“Care for a fly, Weasley?”

Ginny shrugs. “I fly for a living, Potter.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” Harry shoots back, hooking the straps of her shoes over a tree branch and flicking his wand toward the broom shed.

The doors swing wide and an old and well-loved Clean Sweep floats into his hand. “Now I’ll ask again, fancy a fly?”

“I’m wearing a skirt.”

Harry blinks at her. “I’m sorry, I thought I was engaged to a Gryffindor.”

“Real mature.”

“Pretty lofty words for someone who poured half a bottle of hot sauce on her food just to spite Percy.”

“That was a matter of honor,” Ginny says with a sniff.

Harry extends the broom toward her and raises his brows. “So’s a dare,” he pauses for the drama, “And I do. I dare you to fly this creaky, slow, barely flyable broom to kingdom come while I cling to you like a scared cat.”

“I’m an adult.”

His eyes narrow behind wire rimmed glasses. “Yes, an adult chicken .”

Grabbing the broom, Ginny tears her skirt up the middle with a few quick tugs, and straddles the handle. “Get on the damn broom.”

[myselfinserts]

“Stop talking. I will win.”

L sat quietly on couch, flipping through all the evidence with a calm mind. Today was the final day of the trial. She knew who the true culprit was. And their key witness was on her way over in the safety of her partner’s embrace. She knew she’d win this case. She just had to remain calm, composed, and confident. 

Her client, however, was far less calm. Pacing back and forth. Tugging at his sleeves. Shaking. She expected as much. L had seen first hand how the court reacted to seeing the defendant. 

Needless to say, looks could be deceiving. 

“Ceri, relax,” she soothed. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Ceri said, voice tight with worry. “I know you will. I trust you. I just...” 

She motioned for him to sit down, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder as she closed the files. “We have this. Your alibi is airtight now. And the other witness will have their testimony torn apart.”

Ceri clenched his fists tightly, trying to stop from crying. “I believe in you. I just...I just can’t stop worrying. If I end up with a guilty verdict I...I know I probably won’t be the one hurt most by it.”

L knew all too well what he meant. Ceri wasn’t a murderer. But if anyone else were put on the case, it would be almost certain that Ceri Aylward would be found guilty. But being behind bars wasn’t what he was afraid of. No, what Ceri was terrified of was how this would affect his husband. No doubt he was worried how this would affect his husband’s reputation. How that’d tie into the reputation of the Atelier. More importantly though, Ceri was absolutely panicking over how Étienne would feel having a convicted criminal as a husband. She could practically hear the voices in the pub owner’s head. 

He’s probably thinking something a little cheesy like, ‘This case is going to ruin him. It’s all my fault. He’ll never forgive me for this. I’m innocent, but...if in the end...dammit....Please don’t let this hurt his work. Please. Please, don’t let this hurt his heart. His beautiful, beautiful heart.‘ Something like that.

But L knew better. If Ceri’s fears were in any way possibly true, Étienne wouldn’t have asked her to take this case to begin with. If there was anything certain in this world, it was that he cared very deeply for Ceri and would do whatever it took to help him. 

“H-hey, L,” Ceri stammered. “If...if something happens. Promise me that-”

“Stop talking,” L interrupting. “I will win. We will win your freedom. So stop talking like we already lost.” She noticed the way he tensed at that, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Listen. I know you have a bad habit of preparing for the worst. And understandably so. But I wouldn’t have taken you on if I wasn’t certain I could prove your innocence. And if I couldn’t do it, I’d have fought until I found someone who could.” She smiled as he started to relax again. “But...if it will make you feel a little better, I’ll hear out what you want me to promise you.”

Ceri nodded, taking a deep breath. “If...if something happens. Even when we win the case...if something happens to me, please...look after Étienne for me. I can’t...” his hands began to shake. “I can’t see this through without knowing for sure that he won’t be left alone should worst come to worst.”

L nodded, pulling him into a tight hug. “Always, Ceri. You know I would never abandon him.”

“I know,” Ceri said, managing a smile. “I just...I needed to hear it.”

“Sometimes hearing it said is the best medicine.” L looked up as the door opened, a bright and cheerful Phoenix walking in with a basket covered with a soft, teal blanket on one arm, and a giant case on the other. “Got the witness?”

“Yes I do!” Phoenix declared, holding up the basked. 

“Great. Trial reconvenes in two minutes.”

“Then let’s get to it!”

The entire court was filled with whispers. As Phoenix finished laying out all the buttons on the floor, L carried the basked to the witness stand and set it down right in front of it. Prosecutor McMiller was gobsmacked. Staring like a drowning trout as a little golden cat let out a soft yawn before crawling out of her bed. 

“And done,” Phoenix said, heading back to the defense’s side. 

“Perfect.” L looked up at the judge. “The witness is ready, your honor.”

“Hold it!” Mary looked up at the judge, seething in anger. “Your Honor, this cannot possibly be allowed!”

“On the contrary,” L argued, returning to Phoenix’s side. “This is a key witness in confirming the defendant’s claim of being home at the time of the murder. We do have evidence to support her testimony, but it would be best to hear it from her first, don’t you agree?”

The judge raised an eyebrow, but nodded in agreement. "Very well. Witness, please state your name for the record."

Honey gave a soft mew before running between the buttons on the floor, pressing every single one as fast as she could. The buttons gave out a gravelly, monotone sound.

"A-M-B-E-R-A-L-L-A-R-D. I-A-M-S-M-A-L-L-A-N-D-C-U-T-E."

"Amazing," the judge gasped. "Such an incredibly smart cat."

"Her caretakers are very proud of her intelligence, your honor," L agreed.

Honey ran over to one of the full response buttons and pressed it. "I am good kitty."

“Yes you are,” the judge agreed. “Now, Miss Allard. Please give us your testimony. Be as precise as you can with those little buttons of yours.”

Honey continued on with a nod, pressing the buttons diligently at breakneck speed. 

“Ceri. Welcome home. 5 I-N-E-V-E-N-I-N-G. Food. Food. Ceri. M-A-K-E. Food. Shrimpies. 6, 2, 0. Shrimpies. A-M-B-E-R-L-O-V-E Shrimpies. Food P-H-O-T-O-T-O Papa. I am good kitty. Food. Bath. Bath. 7, 3, 0. N-E-E-D-E-D Bath. R-E-A-D-F-O-R-A-M-B-E-R-A-T 8. Bed. Bed. Bed A-T 9, 1, 5. I am good kitty. Ceri. I love you.”

With a nod and a gentle ‘aw’ from the audience, L watched as Honey curled back into her basked, looking very pleased with herself. “As you can see, Miss Allard’s testimony lines up with the defendant’s claims.”

“Hold it!” Mary slammed her hands on the prosecutor’s bench. “You mean to tell me that incoherent mess is a testimony.”

The judge gave her a hard look. “Miss McMiller. You were the one who convinced me to give the defense a chance to find evidence and a witness. And her testimony made perfect sense. Please wait for your chance to cross-examine the witness.”

“I-i suppose I did, but. But still. Your Honor that was a jumbled mess-”

“As you can see,” L continued. “On the day of the murder, which took place around 7:30 in the evening, Ceri Aylward had been home having dinner and tending to his husband’s beloved Amber.” She proceeded to the evidence table, laying out photos to be shown to the court. “As you can see from these photos taken of the victim’s home for this trial, leftover shrimp scampi had been found in the defendant’s fridge on day one of investigation. The book in question, ‘Feline Theater: Locked Heart’s Lament’, can be found in the living room on the coffee table near the cat’s down-stair’s bed.”

Phoenix let out a chuckle. “There you have it, everyone. Ceri couldn’t possibly have been the killer.”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Mary interjected. “How do we know that the defense didn’t train this cat before hand to commit perjury? Or that the defendant's spouse didn’t train her to lie about the case?”

L held a steady gaze on her, making sure to catch Mary’s reflection in her mask. “Monseuir Allard has been out of the country for the last month for business. We have a copy of his phone logs and airline tickets showing he’s away which he willingly handed over when investigators contacted him. Also, as the defendant has been in custody and my partner and I haven’t been able to tend to the cat post-arrest, she’s been staying a one of the local cat hotels during the case, and her buttons were at home during that time, both only just recovered within the past hour.” She laid out photographs of text messages between Ceri and Étienne, with pictures of the witness and defendant included. “Just look. There’s photographic evidence of the witness being in the same place as Mr. Aylward, all timestamped around the same time as Miss Amber Allard stated. Only off by approximately one minute or so. The 7:30 timestamp clearly shows the witness covered in what appears to be spices and sauce, beside the bathtub, in this selfie with the defendant.”

Ceri stifled a chuckle. “She had landed on my plate trying to get more food. This pretty kitty sure does loves shrimp.”

“Objection overruled, McMiller” the judge ruled. “Though I do admire your attempt to accuse a cat of...purr-jury. Do you wish to cross-examine the witness?”

Mary stammered looking between the judge, the defense, and the cat frantically before sighing in defeat. “There...doesn’t seem to be any issues with her testimony. Prosecution rests, your Honor.”

L smiled sweetly, going over and collecting the basket, handing it over to Ceri as Phoenix retrieved the buttons. “Your Honor, the defense asserts that given the evidence, and an accurate eye witness account, our client Ceri Aylward could not have possibly murdered Smokey Carts. We wish to have Ross Carts come back for further questioning.”

The judge nodded understandingly. “Court will adjourn for thirty minutes while Mr. Carts is brought back in. I suggest both parties prepare for this properly.”

Ceri was holding Honey close, giving her loving pets and kisses while cooing softly. “Such a good kitty. Such a beautiful, wonderful lady. Papa’s gonna be so proud of you. So brave.”

“Don’t relax yet,” Phoenix chided. “We still need to crack the Carts.”

“Though it shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” L assured. “We have everything needed to convict him.” She shook her head. “Seriously. Brothers up in arms over a property war for a jewelry store and just happened to both be regulars at the SF. What are the odds?” 

“With my luck?” Ceri laughed. “About as high as skyscraper. Though less likely than Étienne running through that door-”

SLAM!

Everyone jumped. Honey immediately went to defensive mode, only to relax a moment later and begin purring loudly. Standing in the doorway in a long black coat, dark teal scarf haphazardly hung on his shoulders, and panting heavily, was the one and only Étienne Allard. 

Ceri set Honey in the basket, slowly getting to his feet. “Love? Is...is it really-”

“Finally managed to wrap up work,” Étienne gasped, trying to regain some air. “Got on the first flight out and just landed not long ago. Half the damn elevators in this fucking building are down for repair. Why the hell is this room on the top floor? Never mind. Did I miss the-”

Before he could finish, Ceri ran over to him and wrapped his arms tightly around his husband’s shoulders, nearly knocking him to the floor. The guards were almost ready to chase him, had Phoenix not motioned for them to stop. Étienne returned the embrace, lightly rocking and stepping a little more into the room so the doors could close. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Ceri cried, tears falling freely now. “I didn’t do it, I swear. I didn’t. I tried to play it safe. I swear I never meant for-”

“Sshh. Ça ira, mon Ceri.” Étienne pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know you’re innocent. It’s going to be fine. Okay?”

Ceri nodded. “I know.”

Honey hopped out of the basked and ran over, quickly crawling up to  Étienne ‘s shoulders and lightly nuzzling into the hug. Étienne looked at her in shock. “Honey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

L giggled fondly. “Her testimony just saved your husband’s ass. We’re getting the actual culprit back in to crack him.” She looked over at Phoenix, taking her hand and snuggling up close to her. “You want the honor?”

Phoenix giggled, wrapping her arms around L’s shoulders. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“Hey, it wouldn’t be fair if I only got to rip Mary a new one.”

Étienne looked at them, trying to suppress the scowl working its way onto his face. “McMiller...I wasn’t aware she was prosecuting this case.” He looked to Ceri, his expression softening. “She didn’t try anything, did she?”

“Usual tricks,” Ceri muttered, exhausted from stress and tears. “But damn, Team Ashes sure have been on top of things.”  He pressed their foreheads together, letting out a sigh. “Once this is over, can we finally take that vacation? I need at least a week of not leaving your side.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Phoenix and L looked at each other, nodding in silent agreement. 

After this case, they were taking a vacation too.

“And that’s where we’re stopping for the night.” Phoenix bit back a laugh at the whines coming from the children. Had it not been for the case they had in the morning, she’d have gladly continued on with the tale. It was one of her finer moments after all. But it was already eleven, and the kids had school as well. 

“Come on, Autie Phoenix!” Ena begged. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Yeah!” Kasumi agreed. “We wanna hear how you chewed out that Carts guy!”

“How about this,” Phoenix offered, kissing them both on the head. “You sleep, and I’ll tell you all about it after dinner tomorrow. Then you can also hear about this case we’re currently doing.”

The twins looked at each other before turning back to her, speaking in unison. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Good night, Auntie.”

The girls curled up in their beds and closed their eyes. Phoenix made sure they were secure, tucking them in and turning out the light. Once the door was closed, she quietly made her way to the main office. Unsurprisingly, L was still at the desk looking over the case files, while Aizawa and Nemuri had passed out on the couch. Aizawa had a noticeable bruise on his cheek. 

“Something happen during my kids day?” she asked, taking a seat beside her partner. 

“Mhm,” L replied. “Shouta got hurt dealing with a potential witness. Nemuri was running all over trying to get papers. Yamada’s still out gathering intel off the streets.”

“I see.” Phoenix wrapped an arm around her, burying her face in L’s long, soft hair. “Want me to make you some tea? Looks like we’ll be at this a while.”

L shook her head slightly. “No thank you. But...could you stay right there? It’s pretty chilly in here.”

Phoenix smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Of course.”

[canaryatlaw]

Today was.....kind of odd. I felt exhausted and like I was running crazy all day, but I actually wasn't? Idk. I remembered today that my psychiatrist wanted me to call him after I'd been on the Xanax for like a week to see if I'd noticed a difference, as I should have, and as I remembered I was supposed to do this I realized I don't think I've actually seen much of a difference. I still feel anxious pretty much all the time and can't stop my mind from racing even when I'm trying to relax, there's always something I need to get done. I'm doing 2 mg of Xanax a day right now (1 at morning and 1 at night) and he wrote me the prescription to use as needed so I can increase it if needed. If I'm remembering correctly, at the time I accidentally went off it I was taking 3 mg a day, I guess I was just hoping I would be doing better by now and wouldn't need that much. Idk, it's weird to be experiencing symptoms of mental illness like anxiety and feeling exhausted and like something in my mind just isn't right without them being accompanied by the overwhelming and soul-sucking dread of suicidal ideation constantly occupying your mind. Because I pretty much consider myself "recovered" at this point. Like I'm SO much better than I was 4 years ago. But I'm still having symptoms that just don't feel like they have a causal connection to my life, because there's nothing that would be causing that in my life- I mean at least as far as the depression, there's obviously plenty to cause anxiety. But I don't really feel depressed at all so I don't really know if that's what this is??? Like my brain felt weird when I was without my meds for a few days but for the most part it's been fine with happiness, just tending to get overwhelmingly exhausted, but with me that could have a lot of causes (see: my abysmal high school attendance record). Sigh. I didn't mean to get into all of this right now, it just kind of came out. I think that's most of what I have to say, though. So, today. Alarm went off at 9:45, and the first thing I notice is its gross and rainy and hell no am I gonna walk 20 minutes to the train in the freezing rain cuz I fucking hate rain, so I consult google maps to see which of the alternate routes I know of would be quickest, and decide on the one that takes my normal bus route to a close by train station of another line that I can then take to the loop. So that worked out fine and I got to school in plenty of time to prep for the panel. Oh, I left out that I woke up to a text from my across the hall at work friend saying she was like ridiculously sick and couldn't come, so that sucked but oh well. After not too long DCFS guy comes over with the PD we were able to get from delinquency, so we hang out and talk for a while as things get set up more and we get food before the panel. So, we ended up having 4 panelists, which worked well because we initially felt overbooked at 6, but 2 had to cancel haha so that ended up being good. We had the PD, DCFS guy, an adoption attorney, and a child rep that does work in domestic relations (divorce/custody court). And of course I was the moderator, so I got ask my questions and they went really well! Everyone had good and varying answers, and even gave some well-reasoned answers to my thrown in at the last minute question about if they could change one thing about the system they work in what would it be, because of course I am so very reform minded, lol. We got to open the floor up a little at the end, and the panelists talked about the last question for like 10 minutes and I was like watching the clock knowing the 1L's all had to get back to class at 1 so as soon as they finished I was like OKAY whoever needs to leave go and we can chat with the panelists if you want to stay, lol. So that felt good overall. I stayed and talked to DCFS guy about some random stuff since he had some time before going back to work since this was an official work sanctioned event for him, lol. So that was cool. When he headed out I switched over to the PAD office for a bit and did something on my computer for a little, I don't even remember what, before going to meet my LARC prof for our individual conference. It wasn't all that helpful because it tended to be just more generalized feedback, and like I know what I'm doing its just a matter of doing it in the form they want. But I got my argument section back and graded so between that and my graded trial brief I should have some good basis to go off when I finish off the appellate brief this weekend hopefully. That's the idea, anyway. After that I went back to school and was gonna go to the PAD office but instead found my spring break friend, summer job friend, and the girl who's gonna be the president of the child and family law group with me next semester chilling in one of the rooms, so I hung out with them and actually got around to reading most of the cases for crim pro tonight. It was nice, even if I still felt exhausted at the end of the day. And I ended up ordering Chinese food because I felt like it before class lol and they had these mango and shrimp egg rolls that are possibly the craziest and most amazing things I've ever tasted. Crim pro was fine, just went over the few cases, and I interjected two short comments on different aspects of police behavior and their consequences (one of which was in result of a wrongful conviction that was affirmed by the fucking Supreme Court before later getting DNA exonerated that besides this man spending so much of his life in prison, there was a fucking child rapist freely roaming the streets). She then told us about how she's gonna like speed through the rest of the cases at the next two classes, and then let us go at 6:45....? Idk, I feel like she wasn't prepared for them or something, although I've discovered when she recites the "facts" of the case she reads almost word for word off the quimbee briefs I've been looking at, lol. But hey, I'll take it. It was still rainy and gross so I tried the alternate route again but with slightly more anxiety this time because I don't like relying on buses at night because, basically, the suck. We end up getting off the train literally right as the bus is pulling up to the stop (like I saw the bus as soon as I got off the train and had to run down two flights of stairs to get to it) and I just made it but like the driver was being rude and I had to like, bang on the door when there were like 4 other people with me trying to get on.....like calm down lady it's not gonna kill you to wait another 2 seconds. So that kind of ticked me off but I was at least glad I caught the bus. Got home and decided to watch the episode of Blindspot that had pretty much just finished airing and OH BOY do I have feelings about this episode. I already did a massive Twitter rant about this (and I mean massive) so I'll just give you the highlights but between this plot and Chicago Justice's (both nbc shows, fyi) treatment of a foster kid earlier this week I had just about had it. The kind of plot Blindspot did tonight was awful because it adds to the idea that foster parents are bad people who are only in it for the money, and that is overwhelmingly false. Are there crappy foster parents in the system? Of course, I spent all of last semester tracking them down and getting the kids removed from their homes. But the vast, vast majority of foster parents are wonderful, loving people who are sacrificing so much for a child they may very well have to say goodbye to some day. And when we are already at such a critical shortage of foster parents, this kind of portrayal is so damaging to that image. It only serves to add more stigma to the idea of foster parents are being corrupt and "foster child" practically being synonymous with "problem child" in some peoples heads, another convention that needs to end. The whole thing just really, really got under my skin. I mean, I know better than anyone that this kind of shit (okay I mean, this was obviously an extreme example, but similar types of mistreatment I mean) does happen, but broadcasting it as one of a very few portrayals of foster parents most people are gonna see is damaging to the idea of being a foster parent and hurts the chance that they would consider being one in the future, and that's just such a major problem for me. I obviously have a lot of feelings about this, and I feel like I should find some higher up at nbc to write to about it, other than tagging the network's account in my Twitter rant. But yeah, the whole thing just really pissed me off. Other than that though, my only other comment on the episode was that I was really sad to see Nas go, even though I knew it was inevitable as soon as she got involved with Weller, because the show has made it abundantly clear that Kurt/Jane is endgame and anyone who interferes with that isn't gonna last. But I really couldn't give a crap about her and Kurt's romance or whatever, she was such a great character in so many other ways and such a fantastic leader that I'm sad to see her character leave. And I mean not all of this is coming from my adoration of Archie as an actress, but she really did a fantastic job with the character that I feel like the show will miss her a lot. Okay, so after that I actually got to watch designated survivor live, which I've only gotten to do a handful of times. And man, this episode was EXCELLENT. Like definitely one of the best episodes of television I've seen from an objective (not fandom based) viewpoint. Like just as a piece of art it was brilliantly done. Admittedly I didn't pay all that much attention to the B and C storylines of Hannah and Aaron's adventures, but they were solid in their own right. But the really just knocked it out of the park with Kirkman's A storyline, like holy shit we're seriously at the point where how can you not be rooting for this character? I loved seeing him prep for the town hall and trying to figure out what he should see and then him in that scene and just being so fucking brilliant. Everything he did in that scene was artistic perfection. I had very real tears running down my cheeks by the end of it, and I have a hard time believing anyone else could watch it and not be similarly emotionally affected (even if you don't cry). Like they used just the perfect amount of personal story worked in there without pushing one issue or over-milking a tragic storyline. Just watching him on that stage and speaking from his heart to that mother was just so incredibly beautiful and I'm sitting there thinking damn, I would give anything to have Tom Kirkman as our actual president right now, lol, I seriously think he would be doing so much better than the current joke of an administration we have. So yeah, obviously I was very impressed with the episode. Kiefer continues to be a spectacular actor, and just shines in this role because he is so very good at bringing out the intricacies of the character, his doubts and fears while still managing to remain a strong leader that the people can trust in a time of such horrific distress. But yeah, obviously very pleased there. And yeah, not long after that I started getting ready for bed and here we are, lol, although 2 hours slipped by somewhere in between (funny how that happens). Big girl job in the morning, and then I'm probably gonna find a Starbucks to chill out and work on my LARC assignment on until small group because I just don't have the physical or emotional energy to go to the kickboxing gym this week, though I have been continuing to do push ups during commercial breaks, so that's good at least lol. Okay I think I'm done here. Goodnight lovelies. Have a good sleep.