#Martha tries different offerings

[yandereforme]

Yan Batfam x Singer! Single mom! Martha lookalike! Reader

( I know it’s a lot but they are all important to the plot)

Part 1:Beginnings and first encounters

You are Bruce’s bio daughter. Your mom, who didn’t know who the father of her kid was, gave you up to your aunt to be raised by them, but you didn’t know until your adoptive parent’s funeral that you weren’t their biological daughter. You had twins recently with a shitty ex of yours who you broke up with not long before the funeral after he tried to hurt your daughter for crying.

After the funeral, where you learn that your bio mom wasn’t sure who your bio dad was, but that she knew he lived in Gotham, you decide to move to Gotham. In part due to your biological father, in part due to avoiding your ex(who had refused to be listed on the birth certificate since you gave birth during a break in your relationship), and in part due to the basically free house your bio mom had owned in Gotham. So, you moved with the twins to an abandoned, slightly dilapidated house just outside of Crime Alley, and got yourself to work.

You got a job at the Ice berg Lounge, in part due to there being an opening, and in part due to you helping two women who worked there who apparently worked right under Mr. Cobblepot?

You quickly got a reputation as a singer with a knack for knowing just what song fit a customer. It was a bit of a game between you and the other workers, where they would point out a person and you would sing a song based on their vibes. You always managed your hit home with your songs, leading to you becoming one of the most popular performers at the Iceberg Lounge.

That’s what leads to Red Hood coming in one night. He had heard about you from a few of his men, and wanted to know what all the hype was about.(This take place after the Red Hood arc, where he has already been established as a crime boss and the Batfamily know his identity, but he hasn’t made up with any of them)

Cobblepot asked you to sing a song for Red, and pointed him out to you. You knew who he was, you were just outside his area, and honestly you kind of liked what he was doing for the community, so you were willing to preform, even offering to sing two songs about him(something you had only done a few times with regulars who you really liked.

Jason accepted. You started off with You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring. You didn’t usually do a lot of rock songs, but that song resonated with you when you looked at him.(Jason loved the song. It was angry but fighting music, and your voice was really good. He understood why so many of his men praised your music(he just couldn’t understand why you looked so familiar))

The next song was different. You didn’t usually sing two songs, and the few times you did, people tended to vary reactions, from shock to anger to accidentally setting off a break down. But you had promised. You just hoped Red Hood wouldn’t hate you for the next song(you didn’t understand why it felt so right to sing the next song, when it didn’t seem like a Red Hood song, but you didn’t want to question it now.)

Then, you sang Good for you by Olivia Rodrigo, and everyone froze. (Jason didn’t know how you knew this anger of his. How did you know how he felt about Bruce replacing him? How did you know?) No one understood the song, especially when the recipient was a murderous crime boss, but they didn’t interrupt.

After you finished the song, you looked at Red Hood. He was sitting ramrod straight. You couldn’t see his face, but his posture was very tense. Slowly, he stood up, and walked to the stage. You didn’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t for him to drop $200 in your tip jar, and leave without a word.(Jason’s head was spinning. The green wasn’t invading, but it surrounded the edges of his vision. He needed to leave. He had to come back again, probably as a civilian, but for now, he needed to leave.)

After that, you got even more visitors, and a raise in your salary. You even made a new friend, Jason, and you were even starting to consider sending your kids to daycare instead of a baby sitter(you wouldn’t do that. You liked your arrangement with the street kids, where you would pay them in food and cash to watch your kids during the day. You liked taking care of them, but they needed to feel like they were doing stuff for you, so you didn’t make a fuss.)

Then, the Joker got out of Arkham.

Edit: I hope you guys enjoy this. This will probably be a series. I’ve had this idea for ages but never got around to it before now. This isn’t related to my Bruce or Jason series, which I will do, but I just wanted to finally put the on here. Please comment any suggestions for the kids names, or what you want to see next!

[sankta-wraith]

I’m about halfway through season three, and I’d just like to take a moment and look at how losing Rose has changed the Doctor.

First the obvious things: he’s more serious. During his time with Rose, he was mostly cheerful, funny, and generally quite positive. There were a few darker moments, but for the most part he had a pretty sunny personality, especially when he was with Rose. In season three, while he still tries to maintain his happy personality, he occasionally slips into melancholy and his cheerfulness often feels like a bit of a facade. This isn’t to say that there aren’t moments when he’s genuinely happy, but they seem to be far less frequent than the durst two seasons. He smiles less. He doesn’t have as many quips. He’s barely laughed at all. But that’s to be expected. He just lost someone he loved; it makes sense for him to be more withdrawn and sad.

The thing that struck me the most was how reckless he’s become. He’s always been a bit reckless, but he’s also tried to avoid things that will most likely kill him. He might be constantly getting himself into very dangerous situations, but he (almost) always thinks of some way to not die. (I think it’s because he knows that if he dies the Time Lords die with him, but that’s a different post.) In season three, he’s practically suicidal. So far, he’s allowed himself to come dangerously close to death at least five times, some seemingly without expecting to survive.

First was in episode one, when he let the Plasmavore drink his blood so she wouldn’t register as human on the scanner. He had no companion at the time, so he couldn’t have expected anyone to come for him. Even if someone had found him, they would have needed to do a blood transfusion, and since he’s not human it’s unlikely that human blood would save him. (I’m actually not sure how he survived that. Martha gave him CPR, but that didn’t fix the blood loss issue.) Even knowing all of that, he still allowed the Plasmavore to drain his blood without hesitation. He technically could have regenerated, but that didn’t seem to be part of his plan. I’m still not quite sure how regeneration works, but I’m pretty sure he has to be conscious for it to happen, and he was definitely unconscious when Martha found him.

The second time was when the Carrionite did he voodoo doll thing. This is admittedly a weaker example, since he does have two hearts, but I’m not entirely convince that he knew he’s be able to restart his other heart. He can clearly survive with just one heart (at least for a little bit,) but it significantly weakened him and it’s unclear how long he would have survived it. Had he been unable to get both hearts working, he probably would have died later when his remaining heart gave out under the strain, or been finished off later by the Carrionites and unable to defend himself. And yet he seems remarkably unconcerned, even when he realizes what she going to do. This isn’t to say that he wasn’t worried, but maybe not as worried as he should have been.

Third is when he willingly offers himself up to the Daleks, fully expecting them to kill him. This is one of the best examples, because he is 100% convinced that they are going to kill him. He’s so convinced that it actually comes as a shock when they decide not to kill him on the spot. Sacrificing himself makes sense in this situation, but it was a bit shocking how fast he agreed. I had expected to frantically try to come up with a plan, or at least to try fighting, before he decided to sacrifice himself. I certainly hadn’t expected him to straight up tell them to kill him.

Fourth was when he put himself in the direct path of a lightning strike/gamma ray burst on the off chance that some of his DNA would get transferred. Again this is an excellent example because not only did he put himself in its path, he actually held onto a lightning rod and wouldn’t let go for the duration of the gamma ray burst. There’s also the small fact that said lightning rod was on the top of the Empire State Building, and if the lighting and radiation hadn’t killed him a fall probably could’ve. That is literally the definition of suicidal.

The fifth and (so far) final time was when he, once again, sacrificed himself to the Daleks and demanded they kill him. Yes he knew that the Dalek-humans had some Time Lord DNA in them, but he still couldn’t be sure it would be enough. If you still don’t believe that he’s suicidal, I think seeing him stand in a room full of people with lasers/guns and telling them all to kill him should convince you. If even that doesn’t work, then you should consider the fact that the last three all happen in the same episode.

Let it never be said that losing Rose didn’t affect the Doctor.

[crow-aeris]

Batfam tea/coffee Head canons:

Alfred: he's a real tea connoisseur and has a taste for those expensive types

Bruce: would usually drink (expensive) coffee, but occasionally dabbles in tea whenever he misses his mom (who was a real tea drinker, and martha would often drink tea with alfred and talk quietly between themselves. this tradition was carried on by Bruce, albeit unknowingly)

Dick: Despite what ppl think, i don't think he'd go for those really sugary coffee. i think he resorts to coffee as more of a last resort, and usually only drinks like soda. though, he can be coerced into drinking iced coffee if stephanie, barbara, or cass invite him. though i think he'd really like the taste of like, lattes (especially the warm ones that barbara introduces to him) but he drinks coffee decaf

Barbara: she likes warm drinks, i think. like cinnamony and smooth lattes, particularly with like, cinnamon and brown sugar- the types of warm drinks that settle in your bones and makes you feel all nice and warm

Jason: big fan of tea, and used to sit down and have chats with alfred abt literature or theatre. i think he doesn't like coffee, but would take a sip whenever one of his siblings tries to get him to drink it no matter how many times he snaps at him to leave him alone (if that makes sense? like it doesn't matter how much he hates coffee, if one of his siblings offers it to him, he'll still drink a little)

Tim: Energy drink FEIND. hes a monster girly, and he loves tooth-rotting sweet drinks and when jason tried some he spat it back out and started making fun of him- all in good fun tho

Stephanie: she is THE iced coffee girly like frfr. she's the type to always have a cup of iced coffee in hand and when you say smth stupid, shed give you a look and rattle the ice passive aggressively. shes also the type to call tea "hot leaf juice" and gets into (friendly) arguments with jason over whether tea or coffee is better. she'd really like boba

cass: she doesnt prefer one or the other, and drinks whatever thats offered her, though she dislikes energy drinks because they dont "taste as good". she loves boba tea

damian: he dislikes coffee and prefers tea (taking after martha) but he forces himself to drink coffee to seem more like bruce- that is until he feels more secure in his place in the family

duke: i think he likes coffee, but doesnt mind tea. he's a latte girly, and finds it fun being lugged around the city with the girls to sample different coffees to see which one had the best drinks. i think he would really, REALLY like boba tea

[somnambulent-directives]

I can't stop thinking about post-hmc flower shop Howl and Sophie

Starting off their mornings picking flowers together and arguing about which ones would look nicest together

Howl still flirts with customers (he tones it down a bit) to get them to buy more, so Sophie decides to make it even and flirt with the male customers to see who is more effective. She outsells Howl within a week.

Howl installs a secondary hearth at the back of the shop so Calcifer can hang out with them when he's in the castle

Michael gets a discount on bouquets since he's basically family, but he abuses that privilege so often to get flowers for Martha that Howl and Sophie force him to start getting his own flowers from the Waste

At first, Howl stopped offering his services in towns since he's both the royal wizard and works the flower shop with Sophie, but he low-key misses it and runs a side gig out of the shop when Sophie's not there

When Howl is out and customers aren't there, Sophie finds herself talking to bouquets when she's bored like she used to talk to hats. One time she tries to use it to her advantage by telling an arrangement, "you are going to start cleaning up after yourself in the bathroom." She intends to give it to Howl at the end of the day but she accidentally mixes it up with another one she had predicted was going to "finally take a hard-earned rest." She can't get Howl off the couch for the next three days.

People figure out Sophie's flower spells and start requesting arrangements that will bring them fame and wealth. Sophie spends the next two weeks sternly telling every single flower in the shop "you are going to be ashamed of yourself and learn to mind your own business." Howl wonders why they've lost half of their regular customers.

Howl convinces Sophie to come to Wales with him again so he can properly introduce her to Neil and Mari. When Megan hears her children calling her "Auntie Sophie," she is furious that Howl didn't invite her to the wedding. Howl and Sophie quickly realize they forgot to have a wedding.

Howl sometimes sneaks away from the shop when he finds some particularly lovely arrangements leftover at the end of the day and lays them on Mrs. Pentstemmon's grave. He never tells this to anyone, but Sophie figures it out. On those days when he disappears for an hour or so and comes back looking sadder, she makes sure to tell his bathroom spells and potions to be extra soothing for the evening.

Howl picks up a book from Wales on flower language and creates elaborate arrangements to send messages to Sophie. At first, she doesn't catch on and only grumbles about him wasting their stock. She finally realizes what he's getting at, but Ingary's flower meanings are very different from the ones Howl intended. He is left frantically trying to explain why he's accidentally been giving Sophie floral messages offering sympathy for the death of her husband.

[leikeliscomet]

Flop and Bubble - I’m Not Stanning RTD2’s Racial Commentary

On Dot and Bubble, experiencing fandom backlash and what this means for the Black Brit (or lack thereof) in the writer’s room.

Part 1 - The Episode

If you’ve already seen my posts, I don’t like this episode. At all. I watched it on Friday night with everyone else not knowing what to expect and live-tweeted away. It wasn’t worth the late night stream. I rewatched it on Saturday and still felt disappointed. Apart from 50 minutes of cringe millennial/Gen Z parody, mid social media commentary, boring aliens and a whole intense, action-filled scene dedicated to Lindy trying to walk in a straight line, Dot and Bubble tried to give us a racism commentary too, which in all honestly felt like someone was taking the piss. Opening up Twitter and Tumblr to see this episode being called the best of the season and ‘the greatest’ episode of nuwho felt like a 73 Yards of my own. Most posts about how ‘groundbreaking’ and ‘important’ this story is make my eyes roll into the back of my head I’ll be honest with you. I don’t wanna copy and paste everything I’ve already said in my original thread (here’s the Tumblr version), but I’ll recap my main issues with it.

The predominantly white casting fails as a racism commentary in a show that’s already predominantly white. White fans who’ve grown up in white areas watching a predominantly white show have no reason to question why that show would be white too. It’s their default. Including that of the writer's room, as there were no Black writers for series 14. White fans who didn’t notice the white casting have no reason to. Why would they when the show has catered to them for most of its run? There is no fundamental difference between Dot and Bubble’s predominantly white cast and the all-white main cast of Series 6 or the episodes of RTD1 where Martha or Mickey were the only Black characters of the episode. But only one of these results in pearl-clutching. The self-flagellation from white fans late to notice felt very strange. Apart from the guilt of not noticing something they had no incentive to notice, nothing productive comes from this guilt. Being upset about having white privilege is an acknowledgement I guess, but what material actions are coming from this? RTD and co. wanted a message about predominantly white representation then didn’t have any Black writers in the room to create that message. There’s no point in gasping at how white the table is and then not offering Black people a place to sit. Dot and Bubble wasn’t a new story either, as it was originally planned for the Moffat era instead. What would the ending look like for the 11th Doctor? No bowties allowed? To say this episode sprinkled in racism last minute doesn’t seem that far-fetched considering it wasn’t originally a part of the script in the first place. How can I credit an ‘intentional’ build-up of microaggressions to the big racism reveal in the last 10 minutes when they were never originally there to begin with? How can this be a good commentary on the Black experience when Black writers were not only missing but the Black main character himself?

RTD Who’s campness is already something I disliked from RTD1, but for the big white supremacy episode out of all to choose from was just in poor taste to me. I already hated the Love and Monsters style episodes of the OG RTD run, but for an episode that represents systemic racism of all things felt like a slap in the face. Not to say racism can’t exist in comedy because it can. Many Black writers including in the shows I recommend later in the thread do this, but they use humour as the Black characters’ coping mechanism for racism. The actions of the racist characters aren’t minimised because of this. Dot and Bubble doesn’t have the range for this that Doctor Who fans think it does. Lindy’s incompetence is a way for Fifteen, Ruby and the audience to look down on her in the sense she’s clapped basically and her racism comes from the fact she’s unintelligent. But in the real world, white supremacy is a lot smarter. White supremacist rhetoric is hidden and cloaked intentionally so it can’t be noticed and this is used as a way of recruiting white people to join in and maintain it. White supremacy is a system constructed for the purpose of oppressing Black people and other people of colour. It’s a bit more than a few silly billies trust me. Even if we do entertain the idea of ‘accidental racism’ the only reason it happens is because of this white supremacist conditioning which tells white people it’s okay. It’s not your fault for being born in this system but it’s absolutely your fault for continuing to maintain it when you have the choice not to. The only sign of intellect Lindy has comes from when she betrays Ricky and gets him killed. This was what Lindy could’ve been. A white woman who weaponises her incompetence and innocence to her own advantage because she knows how it will benefit her in a white supremacist state. An episode with a darker tone exploring racism in a technological dystopia. This is what fans think the episode did but frankly, it didn’t, but they wanted it to because they idolise RTD to the point of creating his writing intentions for him. Lindy didn’t weaponise being incompetent she is incompetent. Her incompetence is attached to her social media obsession and youth and without these things she lacks even more intelligence than she already does. The episode promotes the idea that racism is the product of low intelligence and overreliance on technology. She is a walking talking caricature for the fans to project onto than a real person capable of actual harm. Apart from the ableist connotations that the lower the intelligence the lesser the person morally, it’s an overly basic and mediocre representation of racism. I won’t speak for the Black people who do relate to the representation of Lindy as a racist, but for me personally, the Lindys of my life were never silly in their racism. They knew what they were doing. They knew no matter how harmless their actions were (to them not me that is), they would get away with it. And they did. I didn’t have time to laugh about how silly the racists I’d met were. I was too busy trying to survive. It’s hard to giggle about being smarter than a racist when they hold the power to dehumanise you completely. What use is an intellectual high horse then?

Speaking of projecting onto characters, I don’t care about Ricky September. His main role was to get Lindy to walk in a straight line and find the escape. He provided as much interest to the episode as water adds flavour to white bread. Ricky is raised in the exact same Finetime conditioning as Lindy but he’s an antiracist icon because he likes walking and books I guess. White fans will be disappointed to know that racists can read and exist outside too. He becomes the ideal white man, a white saviour we’re supposed to distance from the rest of Finetime. The episode again reaffirms that racism is about moral character and not a system. The Ricky Midtembers of my life still benefit from racism even if they are just are just ‘nice’ white guys. Ironically, Ncuti Gatwa’s interview about white mediocrity becomes relevant again. Ricky is put on a pedestal for just existing, expecting applause from the audience. My hands are staying still.

What makes the episode’s politic even more flimsy is how it’s missing from the rest of the season. In The Devil’s Chord, Fifteen opened the TARDIS doors in 1963 with an afro and big smile on his face and I was confused. The arrival of the Windrush generation, the Bristol Bus Boycott and the Notting Hill race riots had all taken place by the time Fifteen and Ruby landed. Would this play any key role in this historical British episode featuring a Black man as the Doctor for the first time? Nah! Only a week after D&B he and Ruby were kicking it with British aristocrats in Rogue, a group of people well-known for respecting Black people for sure! The show’s avoidance of addressing Black British experiences almost feels intentional at this point. Black British history is rarely if not never taught in the British education system, let alone the rest of the world. From previous discourses on Rosa, Thin Ice and Human Nature, ignorance about our history is so prominent in the Doctor Who fandom. White British fans can’t accept the idea of racism being British, not exclusively American, on the same level as the US or even worse. And the show passes up the opportunity yet again to debunk this. So far the show’s closest attempts were Human Nature/Family of Blood and Thin Ice, but even then these episodes had limits. We had Mary Seacole in War in the Sontarans but as the title suggests, the Sontarans were the focus of the episode, not her. Whilst some white fans think the futuristic focus is a smart move, it just highlights the lack of depth a Black perspective can provide. When was the racism of Britain’s past actually addressed? How on earth can you claim learning about Britain’s racist past is limited when you don’t even know about it? How can you address race in the future when you can’t even address it today? Racism can only exist in a futuristic world, far away from Earth in a fictional blue-blooded race of the white bourgeoisie because we can’t have this sci-fi-attempting-fantasy show getting too real. Dot and Bubble’s racism needs to exist in its own isolated white echo chamber so that the racism of the Doctor Who fandom’s one can stay intact.

Dot and Bubble is a failure because it reinforces the bias white fans already have. That as long as they aren’t a specific flavour of white person (rich, Christian, cisgender, heterosexual, allosexual, able-bodied, neurotypical and perisex) they can’t be capable of anti Black racism. The episode comforts them in knowing what they already want to be true and need to be true. They don’t have to question or self-reflect their own antiblackness because the episode doesn’t give them any reason to. Why should they? They’re a Ricky not a Lindy, right? The white fans ‘saddened’ by Lindy’s low assumptions about Black men will continue in their hatred of Ryan Sinclair, Danny Pink and Mickey Smith. The white fans disgusted by Lindy’s disgust will keep going on about how ‘off’ they feel about Martha Jones but ‘don’t know why’. The white fans that ‘hate’ Lindy’s hatred of Ruby and Fifteen’s close proximity will keep gagging at the thought of the Doctor having any romantic connection to Martha Jones because she ‘deserved better than that’. The white fans ‘heartbroken’ for the ‘first’ Black doctor will keep erasing the Fugitive Doctor. The white fans that stan the ‘anti-racist’ slugs today will hate the Black people that fight against racism tomorrow. The white fans praising this episode for being ‘groundbreaking’ and ‘inspirational’ and ‘important’ will be racist to Black fans that dare to say that maybe it was a bit shit. And that is exactly what happened.

The fandom’s praise of Fifteen’s compassion, kindness and humanity (of a Time Lord that is)  hinges on him being a ‘good’ Black man for the racists that hate him to the core. If he hadn’t begged and screamed to save Lindy, that praise would’ve been revoked instantly. Fans uncomfortable at his anger towards the Chuldur and the killing of the Goblin King confirm this. Despite the long morally grey history of the Doctor, Fifteen’s darkness is uniquely ‘out of character’ because thanks to bigeneration this isn’t supposed to happen anymore (allegedly). Deep down, this is what the white audience wants. There can never be an alternative to Dot and Bubble’s ending. It’s easier to imagine racism as an inevitable part of the natural order we must experience for the sake of storytelling, the only form of conflict that Black characters and people can ever have than that we could ever, just maybe, say ‘no’ to the white standards put before us. We must beg. We must be nice. We must be compassionate. Even when history and current events have shown us time and time again white supremacy can’t be killed with kindness. Why take the boot off your neck when you can find out how strong and brave you are for handling it instead? Either that or just pretend it doesn’t exist. White incarnations of the Doctor on the other hand have and will continue to be the radical icons of the show because unlike Fifteen, white characters will always be given more agency to explore their actions and behaviours. Punch racists! Free the Ood! Stan the anti-racist slugs and eat the rich! Slay!

When Black people stop chasing after the boat, we don’t get this same radical praise. We pay a price. And the response to Dot and Bubble’s criticism would ironically prove this.

Part 2 ->

[themultifandomgal]

Hi love, can i request one for peaky blinders? Where y/n is in school with Finn and he knows she’s struggling at home so he asks Tommy and the others if they can get her a job or something to help her out. So maybe she gets to clean at the Garrisons and/or maybe watch John’s kids. One night when he gets home late she stays and help him clean up and maybe something happens. Then he says he doesn’t need any help with the kids anymore. Cause he feels bad dragging her in to that life and taking care of his kids and all. But everytime they meet they can’t keep away from eachother.. they end up together maybe Tommy speaks some sense into John or have a talk with y/ns parents to let her marry John? You can do with this idea what you like? I would love to read it!

John Shelby- Can’t Stay Away

Hey! So I changed it a little because of the ages hope that ok so instead of being in school with Finn YN went to school with John and they stayed good friends.

John and I have been friend since we were 4 years old when we started school. My home life wasn’t always great, my father was an alcoholic and my mother was abusive. Mrs Shelby ended up most evening cooking me meals, making sure I had clean clothes. When she passed away it broke all of us.

After wanting to leave my home, Polly gave me a place to live, but finding a job was very hard so I ended up marrying a man who I didn’t love, but he passed away during the war. Tommy got me a job at the Garrison and after Martha passed away I started helping John look after his kids, which caused me to start catching feelings for him. I’ve been doing this now nearly every other day, picking the kids up from school.

Today was no different. I just put them all to bed when John finally comes home

“Hey” I smile at him “have you eaten anything? There’s left overs….”

“I’m getting married” he blurts out making me stop walking towards the kitchen. I turn around with a frown on my face, my heart feels like it’s been crushed into thousands of tiny pieces 

“Oh” is all I can say

“It’s errr Lizzie. Lizzie Stark”

“What?” Lizzie? The woman who’s slept with all of the Shelby brothers, well all except Finn as he’s like 12

“Yeah so errr I don’t need to to help out anymore”

“Oh. Ok erm well I’ll erm see you round then” not really knowing what to say I give John a small smile “congratulations John. I hope she makes you happy” I quickly grab my coat and leave Johns house before he can see that my eyes are starting to tear up.

Over the next few days YN tries her best to stay away from John, but she just can’t. Not only is that her best friend but she loves him. Tommy being so wise knows how YN feels, but he also knows John also has feelings for his best friend. He’s just being stubborn.

Tommy and his brothers are sat in the snug at the Garrison nursing a whiskey

“She’s gonna change”

“She’s not. I offered her money and she took it”

“Fuck!” John yells running his hands over his face

“But ya know who wouldn’t take the money… YN”

“Tom…”

“Tommys right John. That girl loves you. She has from the day you met”

“But she got married” John frowns at his Aunt who rolls her eyes

“Men… she married because you got married”

“But…”

“Yes you did the right thing, but did you love Martha?”

“Of course I did”

“Like the way you love YN?” Tommy ask

“I….”

“Your a fool if you marry Lizzie” Arthur comments downing his whiskey. Just then there’s a knock on the door and YN walks in

“Hey I’m just about to go, but is there anything else you want before I leave?” YN asks looking around, mainly looking at John

“No thank you love. We’ll see you tomorrow” Polly smiles. YN nods her head and says bye to everyone before walking out. Tommy looks at John who’s staring at the door of the snug. Tommy then looks at the door then back at John

“Bloody hell, go after her!” John quickly gets up and leaves the room as quick as he can. Tommy downs his whiskey “thank fuck for that”.

John runs down the street shouting YN’s name. YN stops and turns round confused to why John is runnin after her. Had she forgotten something?

“John?” but before anything else could be said Johns lips are immediately on YN’s. YN pulls back still feeling confused “why did you do that?”

“Because I’ve finally had some sense knocked into me. I love you YN. I can’t stay away from you. It’s you I want to marry, to help look after my kids and maybe even had kids with… that’s if you’ll let me?”

“What about Lizzie?” YN asks

“I’ll break it off with her, I promise, but…” John then gets down on one knee “will you marry me?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear. Of course I will” with that John gets up and spins YN round, kissing her lips. Little did the couple know that Tommy had also left the Garrison hoping to catch a glimpse of the two. He won’t ever tell anyone, but he did smile when he saw his brother and YN happy in each other’s arms finally.

[onlyonetifosi]

I got a exam result in my English language back and got a c , I feel like I failed myself as people who've got lower than me in other exams got higher . Everyone is proud of me but I myself personally feel so bad with myself so I need a little comfort could you possibly write this like y/n gets a results back and didn't get what she wanted but everyone is proud of her but she breaks down in Joris and her brothers arms determined she's a failure .

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

author note: Here's a small chapter (im sorry for being very short, im recovering from a cold, my defenses are very low and I am constantly sick) anyways lots of love <3 <3

The bell echoed through the hallways of Lycée Albert I, signaling the end of another school day. Y/N Leclerc gathered her belongings, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. She glanced at her physics test result, a stark reminder of the unexpected challenge she had faced. Normally, she soared effortlessly through her studies, always achieving the maximum marks.

Joris, her boyfriend and Charles's best friend, noticed Y/N's pensive expression as they walked out of the classroom together. "Y/N, what's wrong? You usually ace these exams," he said, concern etched across his face.

"I don't know, Joris. It's just... I thought I had it all figured out, but this time, it just slipped away" Y/N frowned, her voice soft

Joris placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's just one test. You can bounce back from this. Let's go to Charles and the others, okay?"

In the courtyard, Y/N found solace in the presence of her friends, Martha, Riccardo, Hugo, and of course, Charles. As they gathered under the shade of a familiar tree

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Charles noticed her downcast expression as he approached, his school bag slung over one shoulder.

Y/N hesitated before opening up about her results "I... I got my physics test back," Y/n admitted, a lump forming in her throat.

Charles glanced at the paper in her hand. "You passed, right?"

"Yeah, but just barely" Y/n replied, avoiding eye contact.

Charles furrowed his brow, exchanging a concerned look with Joris. "What do you mean? You're always at the top of the class."

"I know, but this time, it's different. I feel like I let everyone down, especially myself" Y/N, said with a trembling voice. 

Joris offered a reassuring smile. "Y/N, you didn't let anyone down. Passing is still an achievement. Besides, we're all proud of you."

Martha, her bestfriend, tried to cheer her up. "Y/n, it's just one test, you're still amazing. We all have our off days. You'll bounce back from this."

"Oui, tu es très intelligente. (Yes, you are very smart)," Hugo added.

Riccardo added, "Exactly! And you can always ask for help if you're struggling with anything.

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

As the day continued, Y/N couldn't shake off the weight of disappointment. When she reached home, she decided it was time to confide in her family.

In the cozy living room, Y/N sat down with her parents, Pascale and Hervé, and her older brother, Lorenzo. She nervously relayed the news of her test result "I thought I had it all under control, but I didn't. I feel like such a failure."

Lorenzo, her older brother, spoke first. "Y/N, getting a bad mark is not the end of the world. It's a lesson. You learn from your mistakes and improve. I failed exams too, you know."

"But I don't want to fail, Lolo. I want to be the best, for myself and for everyone who believes in me" Y/N looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears

Lorenzo enveloped her in a comforting hug. "Being the best doesn't mean never failing. It means learning and growing from your failures. You'll bounce back stronger, I promise."

Pascale joined in, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Chérie, we love you no matter what. tu es incroyable. Une note ne change rien à cela. You're still our brilliant and incredible baby girl" (you are incredible. One grade doesn't change that.)

Hervé added with a gentle smile, "And remember, even in moments of failure, you have a family and friends who will always support you, nous sommes fiers de toi, Y/n. Tu fais de ton mieux, et c'est tout ce qui compte" (We are proud of you, Y/n. You're doing your best, and that's all that matters)

As Y/N embraced her family, surrounded by their love and understanding, she began to see that the mark on the test didn't define her. It was just a step in her journey of growth and resilience.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie

[jor-elsemissary]

How did the president conversation even come up?

“What did you mean when you said you hoped things would end differently between us?” Martha asks. 

“Well certainly not me shooting myself in front of you.” Lionel chuckles.

“No.” Martha said. “Don't do that. Tell me.” She commands. “Tell me the truth.” 

 “Watching from the sidelines when you take your rightful place as President of the United States.” Lionel said.

Oh he’s so temporizing with that. Man doesn’t want to admit to her what he wants, so he goes and says something completely out of left field. It doesn’t quite start the Presidential talk, but this conversation is mentioned years later when Lex tries to run in 2016 and Lionel wants her to run against him.

Lex isn’t pleased that yet another Kent is running against him for office. He’s very displeased and probably, quietly, sends Mercy after her.

Oh and the attempt on her life lands Lionel in the hospital… again.

They’re not married yet but they have been dating off and on for a few years now and went public with it in 2014. Lionel is 60 (1954) and Martha 52 (1962). They’re getting on in years, but still amazingly active and fit for their ages.

They did have one child together that is being raised by Lois and Clark. There lives won’t allow them to easily be it’s parents. Martha being a prominent US Senator and Lionel the Vice President and COO of LexCorp. Who they are would put any child of theirs in danger.

Martha narrowly wins despite her relationship with her competitor’s father, which Lex tries to use against her and backfired when Lionel took the bullet for Martha. Out of spite, Lex fires his father and blames him for his loss again.

Lionel, unfortunately, cannot live with Martha at the White House. There isn’t such a thing as First Boyfriend after all, which Martha teases him with. I can see them having a relationship kinda like in The American President (good movie btw). But rather having the President pursue the Love Interest, the LI pursues the President.

Their romance rivals that of the Royals. The media talks about it. The tabloids talk about it. The whole country talks about it. It’s a romantic story that the country hasn’t seen in decades. So when Lionel proposes to her, it makes headlines across the world.

KANSAS BILLIONAIRE PROPOSES TO PRESIDENT. SHE SAYS YES!

Martha wants a small, private wedding but her PR team tells her they should make it a large one. Dignitaries across the world will want to attend, along with members of both parties and the elite. Lionel knows Martha won’t be happy, so he offers an alternative. A small, private wedding to make it official and the larger one for public relations. and he’ll pay for them both. She agrees to it.

They’re married just before the election year in 2018.

Lionel finally gets to move in with Martha and goes from First Boyfriend to First Husband. She still teases him about his titles. He lets her.

Eventually their child becomes known to the public and Lex uses it as a scandal against Martha. Lionel tries his best to circumvent the gossip and rumors, and gets dragged through the mud with Martha.

President and First Husband have a Secret Love Child, what else do they have hidden and secreted away?

Heaven forbid anyone find out about Clark.

But they weather the scandal but Martha does not win reelection against Lex. It’s not because she didn’t have the votes, she very much would have, but rather because Lex did find out about Clark and Lionel’s involvement. She ended up bowing out of the race and let Lex win.

She and Lionel retire to the farmhouse where they spend the rest of their days raising their child and Martha’s grandchildren (from Clark).

[trustfallwithgod]

Via Steward & Son

Day (Lost Count) - He didn’t catch me

I’ve had some atheists direct message or repost some of my content with rebuttals and cynicism. I had tried to respond to them but they weren’t accepting responses. So I guess, this post would make them glad. God did not catch me.

God might as well be a million miles away, I felt the devil and man’s evil more tangibly than I have felt Him. I guess this is just a longer way of saying Job’s famous “darkness is my friend” line 🤭. But I’m ok with all of that. He’s God and I am not.

What I’m not ok with is how my Father watched me get beaten and broken and then left me there and now someone’s thumb is in my wound pressing yet somehow I can minister, and even though I shouldn’t be able to pour from an empty cup, somehow, I still have something to give those who are needy and hurting. I am receiving grace somewhere that I can give to others. So there’s only one conclusion: God’s presence and Holy Spirit is undeniably with me.

I think this time, God has really killed me

So where does that leave me? I’m still doing essential work for the Lord but it appears His graces are for everyone else and not me.

This is where the Book of Job shines. You see, right now, I am focused on my performance when what God wants is relationship. In a long tradition of biblical figures like the older brother (in the story of the Prodigal Son) and Martha, the sister of Lazarus, I’ve been so focused on “doing the work of God” that I have not taken the time to be honest with Him like Job was and this has allowed the enemy to plant seeds of resentment.

Life is lived forward but only understood backwards

I absolutely love my Father but I cannot fathom His treatment of me and yet duty has compelled me to promote a brand of “feel good Christianity” (because I thought that I had to protect the feelings of those I minister to, completely forgetting that my role is only to evangelize and the “nurturing of the faith” work belongs to the Holy Spirit), completely ignoring the fact that in real relationships, fights happen. Parents and children argue and have disagreements. The enemy is the one attempting to nurture a garden of unhealthy “sugar daddy” expectations.

Look at Jonah, a lot can be said about Jonah but here’s a crucial verse that everyone misses in the Bible: Jonah was asleep in the storm (Jonah 1:1-6) just like Jesus was asleep in the storm (Mark 4:35-41). Jonah had faith in God’s goodness that he knew that if Nineveh repented, they would be spared but Jonah didn’t want that, he was disobedient to God’s plan for him however, Jonah offers himself to be a sacrifice to the sea knowing that it will calm the storm. The circumstances and context between Jesus and Jonah’s storm experiences may be very different but the outcome is similar, the storm calms. You can have faith and still struggle and chafe at the will of God or you can have faith and utter obedience.

This is where spiritual warfare begins to get terrifying: the closer you are to God, the more your own unworthiness is felt, making the battle a complex discernment process to separate your own thoughts from what the enemy is planting. Should you give up on God because you don’t recognize that He is walking with you along your own Emmaus Road? Or do you invite Him for dinner and then during the breaking of the bread, you realise that God was walking alongside you the whole time?

The disciples walking the Emmaus Road shared one very important thing with Job, they were brutally honest with God about their disappointments. Which brings me to another point: like any war, peace is hard fought. The difference is, this is a battle that Jesus fights, you only need to bring your sorrow, heart ache, disappointment and honesty to Him and in doing so, honour Him like you would your earthly fathers.

Really tell God how you feel and then like the Psalmist says in Psalm 143:8 “let dawn bring news of your faithful love”

Dedicated to Sharon Woo

[landboundstar-writing]

Trade Secrets Part 22

Repost from main blog and AO3. Please tip if you like this And reblog.

Easter brunch at the Wayne Tower.

I looked at the circular tables, chairs draped with cream fabric, and the chandelier in the center, still the same as my first trip here.

A lot had changed since Thomas had brought me here the first time. It was Wayne Enterprises rather than Wayne Industries on the entrance to the tower. I had Zatanna with me now. And Thomas and Martha were gone.

But this sight, with people moving, chatting and talking around trays of food, it was like the first time I saw it.

"Thank you for coming."

Matthew Thorne shook hands with me and Zatanna.

"Leslie and I are waiting with some of the others."

Zatanna bit back a yawn and blushed.

Matthew chuckled. "I feel the same way. I just got off of work three hours ago."

We wound through the tables until we found Leslie, sitting in a flowery dress, flanked by Selina and Harvey.

Selina, I was sure, had no problem getting permission to go to brunch. It almost was a surprise to see Harvey, but I figured that Mr. And Mrs. Dent were either too inebriated or hungover to worry about their son's whereabouts yet. And if they were, on some chance sober, I had a feeling they would not be able to win an argument against Alfred, no matter how much they might have an issue.

I didn't ask Harvey if he had permission to be here. I saw no good coming from embarrassing the boy. 

"Can I have cappucino, Dad?" Zatanna asked. She was still tired from going to the vigil Mass with me the night before, but when we had gotten the invitation to brunch and why, she had been determined to go to both. And after trying my cappucino a month before, it had become a new favorite treat. With pastries.

"Sounds reasonable to me." The deep bass chuckle came from a man I thought I had met before, as he sat down at our table, his own coffee in hand.

Leslie shook her head. "Lucius, I swear you run on coffee sometimes."

"No, I swear without coffee. There's a difference." He looked over at me, and extended a hand. "I know you're Giovanni Zatara and that must be your daughter Zatanna, but you and I have only met in passing. Lucius Fox. Nice to see you again."

I shook hands with him.

"Nice to see you again too."

Plates clattered. Someone laughed and called their friends over. And we sat, talking and eating.

It almost felt normal.

Almost.

Except for one detail.

"I'm sorry we're late."

Bruce's voice was quiet, almost a murmur, and his cheeks were reddening.

Rachel squeezed Bruce's hand before sitting next to her father.

"Take your time," Alfred encouraged.

And nobody complained or argued.

Because this was why we were here.

Bruce had not gone to Easter brunch since his parents had died, and it had been such an important piece of their family history. Bruce had been trying to reclaim some of his family traditions throughout his therapy, with varying success, according to Alfred, and sometimes Bruce shared his progress with this as well.

This was the third attempt at going to Easter brunch for Bruce. And he had gotten in the door and to the tables.

Bruce sat, breathing deeply, with his hand on the table, slowly tapping a rhythm as he breathed for a few minutes. Four taps for a breath in. Fifteen taps for a breath out.

"Do you want to stay?" Alfred asked quietly.

Bruce nodded.

"I'll go get a plate," Matthew offered and pushed away from the table. 

The tapping continued and I poured a glass of water and put it on the table.

After two more rounds of tapping, Bruce stopped, shaking hands grabbing the water to take a drink. 

Matthew returned, quietly handing the plate to Alfred rather than reaching across the table.

The quiet reply Bruce made was almost inaudible in the busy room, and took him two tries.

But he got the words out.

"Thank you."

Selina reached over and squeezed Bruce's hand as she talked with Zatanna, and I had to blink quickly to try to deal with suddenly teary eyes.

It was just Easter brunch at Wayne Tower. Like a dozen others I had been to.

And different than any of the others I had been to.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Maryanne

Pairing: Bruce x Reader, Martha x Thomas Word count: 3,192

Read on AO3

Part 14 of Without Me

Your hand gripped Bruce’s tightly as you made your way to the party. Everyone looked at you once you defended the stairs. You held your head high despite being jello on the inside. Part of you wished you’d insisted on wearing sneakers, but knew that probably wouldn’t have been taken well by Martha. 

Bruce smiled at different people. “Hello.” He greeted before stopping on the last step. 

“Everyone.” Martha announced. “Please welcome our son and daughter in law. Your future bosses!” She beamed proudly. 

You gave them a shy wave at that. “So be nice to us.” Bruce half joked, eyeing everyone. “And Merry Christmas!”

Everyone clapped and cheered, people staring at you the most. Whispers spread throughout the crowd. Swallowing, you glanced at Bruce, who gave you a wink. You followed him, shaking hands with many people. 

“Ah, here comes one of those guys I hate.” An older man approached. “Max!” He grinned. “See aging isn’t going well for you.” 

You tried your best not to giggle at that as Max didn’t look too pleased. “Bruce. Immature as ever.” He sighed. “Surprised you have a wife by your side.” 

“Same here, bud.” Bruce shrugged. “At least I have a date.” 

“As do I. My dear daughter just got back from Harvard.” He explained. “I’m sure you remember Maryanne.”

Bruce instantly looked pained. “I happen to, yes.” He sighed as she stood next to him. 

“Hi, daddy.” She looped her arm through his. “Oh, hello Bruce.” She grinned. “Long time no see.” She told him. 

Bruce sighed. “It has been a while. Congrats on getting into Harvard. I know you always wanted that.” 

You could tell he wasn’t being genuine and couldn’t help but stare her down as she looked at you. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Bruce’s wife.” You held out your hand.

“Maryanne.” She shook it. “Bruce and I were serious before we got accepted to different colleges.” She explained. “Congratulations on being Mrs. Wayne.” She smiled. 

It almost bothered you that she was being nice. It gave you a bad gut feeling. “Congrats on Harvard.” You told her.

“Thank you. Daddy here wanted to help me with getting entry but I wanted to prove that I could do it myself.” She explained as if you were long lost friends. “You study, right?” She smiled. 

“Yeah, that’s where we met.” Bruce told her. “She’s the smartest. Best writer, ever.” 

She grinned. “How cool! I like to write too.” She told you. “What was your major?”

You bit your lip. “Communications and journalism.” You told her. “I want to either write for a magazine or help write reviews. I haven’t decided.” 

She nodded, looking interested. “Those would be awesome jobs.” She said encouragingly. “I have access to loads of databases. I can always give you my login so you can see what you like?” She offered. “Getting into journalism can be really tough, especially as a woman. Gotta stick together.”

You were completely surprised at that. “Wow. Yeah, that would be amazing. I can only imagine what your school offers.” You nodded. 

Bruce had honestly expected the worst. He seemed to bring out the worst in old flings. This was the opposite of what was happening. He was still panicking that she was going to outright be rude to you. Even Max looked surprised. 

Maryanne happily wrote her number on a napkin. “Please text me. I really suck at making friends so I’m sorry if I came on too strong.” She smiled and handed it to you. “It’d be nice to have another female writer to talk to.” She said shyly. 

“Yeah, of course.” You smiled. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your major?” 

She sighed. “I keep changing it honestly, which bugs my professors so much.” She shook her head. “Currently I’m doing media and marketing.” She shrugged. "I'm not going to keep a major I hate."

“I get that.” You nodded. “Especially when there’s so many options.” You noted. "I nearly went into criminal justice, bit it wouldn't have allowed me to write much."

“That’s how I was with sociology!” She grinned. “It’s so nice to hear.” She shook her head. “Please Call or text me.” She smiled. “I have to do the rounds with him.” She motioned to Max. “Nice seeing you again, Bruce.” She waved before walking off. 

You looked up at him. “I thought I was the only nice person you slept with?” You teased. "Because I was getting into 'I will slap a bitch' mode." You said playfully.

“I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, I swear.” He let out a breath. “I hate her dad and she was honestly...not like that in high school.” He sounded surprised. "Harvard matured her."

You nodded. “She was super nice!” You actually felt a bit calmer after that. And hopeful you'd have a friend after this.

Bruce chuckled. “I’m glad honestly.” He led you through the crowd. “Oh, there’s Jerry.” He motioned to a man who was clearly flirting with one of the staff members. “Should we save her?” He laughed. “Because he’s a married creep.”

“Yes!” You said immediately. “Poor waitress.” You nodded. 

He smiled as he went with you. “Jerry! Why don’t you ever bring your wife? I miss her!” He said loudly, clearly embarrassing him instantly. The waitress excused herself quickly.

You gave her a sympathetic smile and looked at Jerry. “Lovely to meet you, sir.” You waved as he looked angrily at Bruce. “I’m Y/N.” 

“Hello.” Jerry sighed. “I apologize for you having to marry such a child.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’d like to give the same apologizes to your wife as well.” You countered. “Is she here?” You looked around.

Bruce sighed dramatically. “She’s not is she? Poor thing. Such a shame you hide her. She’s beautiful.” He looked at you. “And makes the best scones.” 

“How would you know?” Jerry glared. 

“My mom visited her a couple years back when she missed yet another party. I tagged along.” He shrugged. “Wanted to make sure she was okay since her husband sucks.” 

“Boy, you should have some respect.” Jerry huffed. “You will never get my vote when you become partner.” 

“Seems like you should have some respect for your wife.” You muttered.

Bruce only smirked wider at him. “Come along, dear. Much more important people to see.” He tugged you. He couldn’t wait to tell you how awesome you were for that. 

You waved to Jerry and followed him, smiling as he kissed you. “Who should I meet next?”

He laughed. “Luckily there’s no one worse than him. The rest are mainly annoying.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Promise.” He chuckled.

You smiled. “I’m actually not doing too bad at the moment.” You assured him. “For now.”

He kissed your temple. “Thank you for being by my side.” He kept you close. 

You beamed, letting him introduce you to more people as time went on. You felt a bit of pressure as people asked your ideas for the future of the company. Finally, you glanced at him. “I think I need to charge my phone.”

He nodded. “I think I left my charger in the other room, I’ll go with you.” He excused you both. He was proud of you for making it that long.

Once you were upstairs, you let out a huge breath. “Please tell me we don’t have to do that again for a while.” You said as you sat on the side of the bed. 

He thought and shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.” He shrugged. “Sometimes they have like...charity galas, but we can always skip those if you want.”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t awful. I just felt pressured. I never realized how much your mom does for the company.” You shook your head. “She needs a damn vacation.”

“I agree.” He helped you take off your heels. “How about you rest in here while I do my last goodbyes?” He kissed you softly. “Get in your comfy clothes, and then once everyone leaves, we can head home, too.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Thank you.” You smiled. “Send our furboys up here?” Last time you saw them, they were lying in the library. “Or rather, bring them up here?” You chuckled.

He laughed. “I will.” He promised. “Be right back with our boys.” He kissed you again before standing up.

You watched him lovingly, knowing he’d do a great job running the company one day. But you could definitely wait for that to happen. Getting up, you realized you needed him to unzip you. “Help.” You pouted. 

Chuckling lightly, he motioned for you to turn so that he could. He kissed the back of your neck as he did. “What’s our fastest quickie time?” He asked, slipping his hands under the fabric of your dress to hold your waist. 

"I don't time it, but I'm sure we can manage." You giggled 

He undid his slacks. “I’ll make it a record.” He promised you. 

When he came back down, it was fairly obvious what had happened. Martha gave him a look but it wasn’t angry. “Just came down to at least do the whole goodbye thing. We’ll be leaving once everyone’s gone.” He told her.

Martha sighed and nodded. “Thank you for at least doing that.” 

“She says you need a vacation, by the way.” He chuckled.

She smiled. “Such a sweet thing.” She patted his arm. “Go say your goodbyes and do the whole thanks for coming thing."

Bruce nodded and walked around to do that. “Oh, Bruce! Please tell your wife goodbye for me. Hopefully if me and her can become friends I can visit for spring break or summer recess.” Maryanne rambled excitedly.  “She seems really nice. I can see why you married her.”

Bruce chuckled. “Thanks, Maryanne. You actually helped ease her nerves a bit so I’m sure she’ll get in touch with you.” He smiled. "Thanks for coming."

She hugged him. “Thanks, too! Though I like your wife a bit more than you now.” She said sweetly. “Bye!” She waved as she ran off. 

You had to take your makeup off, removed all your jewelry, and get into comfy clothes before you could feel relaxed again. You cuddled to Happy and Lucky when you finally laid down. They eagerly got as close as they could. “Love you, babies.” You closed your eyes. 

When Bruce came back up, you'd nodded off with them. He grinned and took a picture, feeling the night was a success. He texted his mom with it. I guess we’ll leave in the morning :) 

She didn’t reply for a few moments. How cute! Sounds great. 

He quickly went to change himself, wondering which dog would let him cuddle up to you. They loved your snuggles and he couldn’t blame them. Finally, he went to lay down and Lucky moved, just to lay on top of both of you when he pulled you close. He laughed softly. “Alright, Lucky.” He shook his head. “Night.” He gave the dog a scratch behind the ears before closing his own eyes.

The winter and rest of the holiday time went by quickly. You found yourself getting ready for midterms all too soon. “Why is it when we’re in school, everything goes by quicker than I can learn?” You whined to Bruce as you ate breakfast. 

“Because you put a lot of pressure on yourself, even though you’re probably the smartest person I know?” He winked at you. 

You pouted. “At least next week we have break. But to get there is going to be hell.” You sighed. “But, I took my last birth control pill yesterday.” You smiled softly at him.

He immediately brightened. “How long does it take to wear off?” He said hopeful. 

“Well, seeing as if you miss one pill you can get pregnant, I’m assuming instantly?” You shrugged. 

“So we’re eating breakfast when we could actually be making a baby?” He stopped what he was doing. "Is that what you're telling me?" He looked excited.

You thought for a moment and nodded. “I mean, yeah.” You laughed as he stood and pulled you out of your seat. “My toast!” You said dramatically. “It was so good. The perfect butter to bread ratio.”

“It’ll be there when we get back.” He kissed your neck as he laid you on your bed. 

“Fine.” You pouted. When he kissed you, you melted into it.

For the next week, Bruce barely let you outside the bedroom, which actually helped you relax for midterms. When it came time to take them, you weren't nearly as stressed.

The same happened for Bruce and he felt he had aced everything he had to turn in.  Which was a first for him. 

"When can you test?" He asked one morning.

“I don’t think until I miss my first period.” You told him. "It might not happen right away."

He logically knew that but pouted. "I hope it does." 

You kissed his cheek. “I know you’re excited.” You smiled. “I can’t wait to tell you that you’re going to be a daddy.”

He hugged you. “You’re going to be the best mom.” He kissed your cheek. “I think this has been helping me with school, too.” He added.

“Yeah? Got you relaxed?” You smiled. “Because I must say, you work better than a hot tub.” You teased.

He laughed. “I have the same compliment for you.” He squeezed your backside. “It does help clear the mind.” He grinned. “Wanna go help each other relax?”

“Always.” You giggled. 

“I’m glad you were able to pull your mom back some for today.” You chuckled as you and Bruce got ready for your graduation party.

“It took days of begging.” He told you. “Days, babe.” He shook his head. “And I promised she could help plan my birthday.” You looked at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure I’ll regret that…” He shook his head. 

“Definitely.” You giggled, adjusting your clothes. “Are we ready to rock this party?” You hugged him close. “Tell everyone our secret?”

He beamed. “I’m pretty sure our moms are going to either scream or pass out.” He kissed your nose. “But I’m ready to tell everyone and the world!” He said happily. “Do you know how hard it’s been not telling people for ten weeks?!”

“I’m sure you’re ready to burst.” You teased. “Like my favorite pair of skinny jeans when I tried to wear them yesterday.” You joked.

He laughed. “There’s going to be plenty more of that.” He pecked your lips. “I’ll buy you all the new clothes you want tomorrow.”

“All the stretchy pants?” You smiled. "Because I see myself living in yoga pants."

“Hey, can’t complain when they make your ass look great.” He led you out. "I will buy the whole damn company for that."

You snorted and shook your head, following him outside to the party. You spotted Maryanne and smiled at her, waving. She waved back instantly, happy to see you. She came over to greet you. "It's good to see you again!"

You hugged her, having been texting off and on for the past semester. “It’s good to see you too! I’m so glad you’re here.” You smiled. "How was the last week of school for you?" 

“Horrible. I’m barely alive.” She chuckled. “So glad it’s summer now.” She shook her head. "No more living off coffee!"

You laughed at that. “I know what you mean.” Even though yours had been decaf lately. 

“We need to start hanging out more now that I’m back in Gotham.” She beamed. "Maybe have a girl's day."

“I’d love that.” You agreed instantly. “We’ll work something out soon.” You nodded. 

Once you’d seen both sets of parents, Bruce was more than ready to announce Baby Wayne. You tapped the glass you were holding of bubbly water as you and Bruce stood on a set of steps. “Hello!” You smiled. 

“Thank you for coming!” Bruce began. “We’re here to celebrate us finally graduating!”

Everyone clapped and cheered at that. You giggled that you heard your father over everyone else. “Thanks, Dad.” You said playfully. “That’s not all that we wanted to say though.” You cleared your throat and looked up at Bruce. “Babe?” 

He beamed that you were giving him the honors. “Baby Wayne will be joining us at Christmas time this year!” He exclaimed, clearly over the moon.

Everyone gasped, then cheered, your mothers screaming together. Your smile faltered when you saw your father's face. He was looking everywhere but at the both of you and when your mother asked him something, he shook his head. "I'll be right back." You said softly, heading inside.

Bruce watched you but was soon crowded with congratulations. 

You got yourself a cup of water, sipping it. Your father was upset because you were having a baby. How did you process that? There wasn’t anything you could do to take it back- not that you even would if you could. But you were sure he’d be okay with the timing. You were married and out of school. So, why did he look disappointed? 

“Miss?” Alfred asked. “Are you alright? I put aside some crackers.” He had his suspicions. 

You sighed, shaking your head. “My dad’s upset.”

“Ah. Did you speak to him?” He asked softly. 

“I saw him in the crowd. Wouldn’t even look at us.” You told him. “I know him well enough to know he’s pretty close to ‘pissed’.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. I believe you planned it well.” He assured you. “I am very excited to help with the care of another Wayne.” He smiled. 

You smiled back. “You don’t mind little ones?” 

“Not at all.” He nodded. "I am happy for you and Mr. Wayne." 

“Thanks, Alfred. Your support means a lot!” You sighed. "Can I hug you?"

“Of course.” He smiled and hugged you gently. “You will be a great mother, Mrs. Wayne.” He said gently. "You already deal with Mr. Wayne." He joked.

You laughed. “That’s very true. You would know best.” You pulled away and sighed. "I'm glad we have you."

“That is kind of you.” He smiled and nodded when Bruce walked in. "Congrats, Mr. Wayne." He told him before leaving the two of you alone.

Bruce waved to him and pulled you close. “You okay?” He asked, worried.

"My dad is upset." You sighed. “And I can’t figure out why!” 

He winced. “So that’s why he was staring me down.” He sighed. "Was kinda afraid he was gonna deck me for some reason." He sagged.

You pouted and looked super sad. “I’ll have to go find him.” You wrapped your arms around him. "I don't know why he's not happy."

“I married you first. We planned it.” He said sadly. “Maybe he thinks I won’t be a good dad?” He shrugged. 

“He shouldn’t be like that.” You sighed. "I'll go talk to him." 

“Want me to go with?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “I’ll come find you.” You kissed his jaw and left him be. This was not going to be fun.

[inthisrace]

Behold, Cease Striving!

Many people believe that serving God is a hard task. I've held onto this belief for years. The idea of reaching out to others, immersing myself in the Bible, and fully committing to Christianity seems like a difficult challenge. I often find myself wondering what more I can do to honor the Lord. However, I must confess that I've never truly intended to seek His guidance. Instead, my thoughts and reflections have remained more of a personal contemplation rather than a sincere conversation with Him. I've never genuinely asked God what He wants from me; rather, I've created my own plans and assumed they align with His will. I've mistakenly believed that merely performing actions in His name is enough to please Him.

Eventually, I found myself feeling completely drained. I couldn't even muster up the energy to keep going with the tasks I had set out to do. It became clear to me that I have a habit of starting things with a lot of excitement, only to lose interest as time goes on. This constant cycle left me feeling overwhelmed with guilt, as if I could never quite make God happy. Feeling frustrated and in need of direction, I finally turned to God and asked, "What am I supposed to do?" I was genuinely seeking an answer, but none seemed to come. My mind was filled with so many thoughts that I couldn't really focus on my desire to serve the Lord. I tried different strategies and approaches, hoping to prevent myself from stumbling over and over again. Then, finally, He got through to me. He said, "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world."

For many nights, I couldn't shake off that statement. It was like, "Yes, I've heard that many times since my childhood: 'Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,'" but I never truly understood it. I tried asking God, but in the end, I also tried to provide the answers to my questions myself. Until I surrendered. So I asked Him, "What does that mean?" And a still, small voice whispered from within, "Behold, cease striving." Immediately, I searched what "behold" means and found out that it actually means "gaze at." Immediately, I stopped everything, got onto my knees, bowed very low because of the realization of how much I have taken Him for granted over the years, and failed to catch His gaze.

When the verse from the book of John declares, "Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!" (John 1:29 NKJV), it's more of a call to "Cease what you are doing!" What are we so busy about? We can be in the church, busy doing things for His kingdom, but we forget about the King. The way Mary left everything just to be seated at the feet of Jesus is what He wants from us. Martha could be so busy preparing things for the Lord but lost sight of the most important thing. It's not about doing things for the Lord that He requires from us; it's about forsaking things upon hearing the sound of His voice. So, Behold!

Indeed, Behold! Jesus might be standing before us, yet we fail to recognize His presence because our gaze is fixed on other things. So, behold. "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world," declared John the Baptist. We are called to behold and cease striving this time, to halt everything once and for all. We need not struggle to feel His presence; but, we can yield to the Holy Spirit by fixing our gaze on Jesus and never look away.

He is the Lamb of God, the perfect sacrifice, the most worthy offering for you and me. Despite never feeling worthy of His love, I ended up being changed through the blood of the Lamb. The most holy sacrifice laid down His life for us. It's so ironic knowing that people like us, unworthy as we are, had to be saved by the only worthy person to die on the cross just to restore His perfect will over our lives.

So, loving Jesus isn't a burdensome task; it's not a complicated process because He has already prepared the way for us. He plans each step for us and waits for us to look to Him. We need to stay focused, as Isaiah said, to make a clear path for the Lord, even when life gets tough. When we do this, we understand His love and purpose for us even better.

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 21

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant, Lucy Lane, Damian Wayne, Felicity Smoak, Streaky the Supercat, Martha Kent, Selina Kyle, Talia Al Ghul, Lucius Fox

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20

Bruce rolled his eyes as he listened to the board members arguing in the background over the phone while he talked to his CFO Lucius Fox. They were trying to push a vote on expanding Wayne Enterprise to Canada. Most were for it. They just couldn’t agree on where the corporate headquarters should be. The places being thrown around were Toronto, Quebec City, Halifax, and Vancouver. Bruce honestly didn’t care about where they built, but his board members fought back that it was all about location, location, location. 

Lucius sighed and said, “If it wasn’t for the fact that you pay me handsomely for this bullshit, I would have bailed on these idiots an hour ago.”

Bruce smirked and asked, “So it isn’t the box seat passes that I got you for the Giants’ games for the rest of the season?”

Lucius chuckled and said, “Oh, that definitely took the edge off.” Lucias paused for a moment and said, “What exactly do you want me to do with this stalemate they have about Canada? We tried holding a vote but ended up with equal votes for all the cities.”

Bruce rubbed his head for a moment and said, “Have one of the associates make out a proposal for the mayor of each of those respective cities. We know what we can offer in terms of job opportunities and increasing value to the city. See what the representatives can offer us in terms of tax breaks and things of that nature. Whoever offers us the best benefits is the one we go with.”

Lucius sighed and said, “This is why I wished you were here with us an hour ago. We could have ended the meeting in five minutes with an idea like that.”

Bruce chuckled and said, “I needed to be here for Damian. This is an important milestone for him.”

“Are you sure you are not using this as an excuse to get out of a board meeting? Disneyland was a weird choice, but I have seen you choose stranger places to avoid the Board.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and said, “Damian really did have a field trip for Disney. I wasn’t going to let him go by himself. The PTA already think I am an idiot and absentminded as it is….”

Lucius burst out laughing for a few minutes. 

Bruce narrowed his eyes and asked, “What’s so funny?”

Lucius’ laugh started tapering off and said, “I’m sorry. I just never thought that you of all people would care what other people think. Imagine what your opposition in your second life would think.”

Bruce gave a deadpan stare and said, “Ha, Ha. Very funny.”

Lucius chuckled and said, “You know I’m kidding right?”

Bruce smiled coyly and said, “Sure you are.”

“Anyway, how is Damian taking to Disney? I’m sure it is different to the other eclectic things he has been exposed to in his childhood.”

Bruce sighed while rubbing the back of his head. He knew going to Disney would be a very foreign concept for his youngest, but he didn’t expect him to fight him the whole way. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. It would definitely explain the looks his other three boys gave him when he mentioned their trip. Dick and Jason just bursted out laughing at the suggestion and Tim started to do research into securing Damian an attorney in case he decided to burn the theme park down in vengeance. 

Bruce shook his head and said, “Damian hasn’t taken too kindly being here. He has already pressed the panic button he has twice to try to get Tim to pick him up since he is with the Titans this week in California. When that didn’t work, he tried to ditch me to go back to the main road to hitchhike before I caught up with him.”

“Considering his other antics are you really surprised by this?”

Bruce sighed and said, “My three older boys have already indicated the same thing. I just want him to have people his age to associate with.”

Bruce looked out the corner of his eye and noticed Lena coming back with several Dole Whips.

While looking at her thoughtfully, Bruce said, “Lucius, if there isn’t anything else, I am going to have to call you back after I get back to Gotham on Monday.”

“Okay, hope things go better with Damian this weekend.”

“You and me both,” muttered Bruce under his breath as he hung up the phone. 

He quickly changed his frown to a passive smile as Lena finally walked up to him. 

Lena smiled and said while handing him a Dole Whip, “Damian and Kara wanted some. I got some for you in case you wanted one as well.”

Bruce gave her a blank stare. He knew that Kara trusted her implicitly, but he still had some nagging thoughts about her. 

Lena chuckled nervously and said, “If you don’t want it, that is fine. I can just give it to Kara. She would probably be excited at the prospect of having two more.”

Bruce let out his charming smile which took Lena off guard for a moment. 

Bruce said, “I would actually like to try some. Some of my employees have talked wonders about this so I am curious if it lives up to all the hype.”

Bruce took the cup from Lena. He began to eat. His eyebrow went up in surprise. He knew that this was similar to ice cream but this is the best ice cream that he has had in a while.

Lena smirked and said, “I take it this means that it far exceeded your expectations.”

Bruce chuckled and said, “Definitely.”

They stood in weird silence with one other. Bruce could tell that Lena kept nervously looking around. Probably wish that Kara would come back as quickly as possible. Originally, Bruce thought about keeping silent until his son and Kara came back but then saw it as an opportunity to get to know the girl. Clark hadn’t been too keen on anyone approaching Lena. Several veiled threats were made if anyone did. If asked, he could use this as an innocent run-in, although he can hear it now from Clark accusing him that it was planned. 

He sighed and said, “Kara has said that you run a children’s hospital.”

Lena smiled and let out a sigh of relief and said, “Yes. I believe in the importance of getting children the best healthcare they could as possible no matter what the cost.”

“What caused you to want to focus on children’s health though?”

Lena looked up thoughtfully and said, “My niece Ruby inspired me actually. She was sick. Most doctors thought it was a cold or at most the flu and said with just over-the-counter medicine it would go away. However, she kept getting sicker and nothing was working. We went to doctor after doctor until one actually did their research and found out what was wrong with her and got her the treatment that she needed to get well. I don’t want any family to have to go through that. Being dismissed and thinking that your concerns aren’t valid. I wanted to have doctors look into everything instead of looking at what is most common. That is when I decided to scout for the best of the best in pediatrics and start my own hospital.”

Bruce gave her an insightful look. Many had regarded Lena using her hospital for nefarious purposes, but he has seen that the commercial that Kara and Lena did a couple of weeks back had changed the discourse around it. Now, more patients have been giving reviews and it has been overall positive. It was good to know that Lena created the hospital as a way to inspire change. Bruce was about to comment as such when he heard his phone ring again. He sighed and looked down and saw that Alfred was calling. He looked at Lena sheepishly and mouthed “One moment.”

Read the rest on AO3

[dontfeeltoohot]

I wrote some Chase fic and it's @softsicknose 's birthday!!!

This is written in a different POV- Martha Masters' from season seven. I really love her, and I enjoyed stretching my writing comfort zone for her. I hope you enjoy!!!

XXX

Chase is late. Late, she’s found, is based solely on when House arrives (unless they’ve been given a time by Cuddy). Chase is usually always early. Early is determined by the time at least two of the team are in the diagnostics room. Out of all the times she’s walked through the glass doors and into the room in the early morning, he’s only been absent four times. All four of those times have also seen him strolling in before their boss.  The fact that she, Taub, Foreman, Doctor Hadley and even House are here and Chase isn’t is odd. Martha likes routines, likes things to stay the same and this disruption in the day to day has her feeling anxious. Her prefrontal cortex is telling her that the blonde is probably just stuck in traffic and there’s nothing to worry about, but it doesn’t stop her from fiddling with the pen she’d borrowed from the man earlier that week. 

No one else mentions that the intensivist is missing, and maybe they all know something she doesn’t? It wouldn’t be the first time- she’s becoming used to being left out of things or being cast aside as an inside joke is told. She’s never gotten the courage to ask what some of the things they say mean, because when it comes down to it she’s here to learn about medicine and science, not about Foreman’s brother or the reason Doctor Hadley was in jail. 

Seventeen minutes after they start the differential, Chase pushes through the door, looking minorly rumpled but otherwise fine- attractive as always. The realization that she’s just called the blonde attractive sinks in. Objectively, she’s aware he’s much more pleasing on the eyes than anyone else on the team; except maybe Doctor Hadley, and that statistically blonde hair and blue eyes tend to lend themselves to what the world has deemed beautiful. His accent doesn’t hurt either. 

Get it together Martha, it’s Chase. Chase, whose password is password, who sleeps with three women in one night only to forget their names. Chase, who does crosswords instead of listening to their boss. Chase, who is also an amazing intensivist and who has gotten more correct diagnosies than anyone else since she’s been here. Chase, who always looks just a little put out when House doesn’t latch on to one of his jokes or praise him when he’s found the correct answer. 

“Chase! How kind it is of you to grace us with your presence.”

The words snap the brunette out of her trance. 

As House snarks, a dark blue folder is thrown at the man who tries to catch it but fails. Instead it hits his shoulder and flops onto the table. Taub and Foreman are reading through their own copies, seemingly unbothered by the disturbance, that or they’re tired of House’s antics. Doctor Hadley is glancing up at Chase with a furrowed brow but he gives her a shrug and sits down, leather messenger bag swaying on the back of his chair. 

With how close he’s sitting, Masters can smell his cologne- something aquatic and airy, no doubt to remind him of Australia and its beaches. As the team bounces ideas off one another, she notices Chase pressing the back of his pointer finger against his right eye- closed. The structure of his jaw tells her it’s clenched, which indicates he’s either annoyed or possibly in pain. Annoyed seems much more likely. 

“What about you, Captain Kangaroo? Any ideas in that pretty head of yours? Or did the one too many drinks you had last night impair its functioning?” 

“Actually, the effects of alcohol wear off in usually six hours unless your metabolism is slow. Even then, it’s likely to be around eight or nine hours,” she offers. 

“I didn’t drink last night, and that insult was sub par,” Chase says as if he’s been waiting for some kind of accusation. “Could be a DVT that traveled to her lung.” 

Something about his voice is different today, it’s lower, maybe? She’s not sure which adjective goes best, but she watches as he swallows and his adams apple bobs unnaturally slowly. He goes to automatically grab a mug that’s not there, hand halfway outstretched before he drops it and rubs the lower half of his face. House’s eyes drag over him like a cat stalking his prey but the older man doesn’t say anything, instead he just sighs, then twirls his orange expo marker in his hand, staring at the list of symptoms on the board. 

“DVT was checked for, next.” 

As Martha wracks her brain for different causes of the new patient's afflictions, she hears rather than see’s Chase shift in his chair, then a breath being inhaled and snagging. 

“h’ihnGgkt! HnGXxt! hh-NgXTtuh!!” 

The sneezes are far quieter and less obtrusive than she’s imagined. She’s thought since starting that the blonde’s sneezes would be loud and harsh, slightly dramatic. These are small and very obviously meant to be quiet. Interesting. 

“You shouldn’t stifle like that, you can burst your eardrums from holding a sneeze in,” she comments after his last one, watching him raise his eyes from the folder, one eyebrow quirked upwards. She flushes, unsure if the comment was appropriate. She just wants to help! What if Chase blew out an ear drum from being careless? She’s simply doing a kind thing, she tells herself. 

“I’ve done it my entire life, Masters, think I’ll be alright.” 

As Foreman suggests an alternate cause, Masters nods and writes down both ideas, wanting to keep up with the details of the case, even if they turn out to be wrong. A sniffle breaks her concentration and as subtly as she can; feigning looking at the clock, she glances at the doctor next to her, noting the barely visible shadows under his eyes. Not enough sleep, then. The rest of the DDX goes as usual, with House giving them all assignments. She gets put with Taub to go break into the patient's house. 

“Do you really think this is a good idea? She can’t keep her holier-than-thou mouth shut when it comes to this type of stuff. Wouldn’t it be better for me and…anyone else goes?” 

The med student frowns and twists at her cardigan, headband feeling suddenly too tight. Her cheeks feel warm and she knows her capillaries have opened and blood has rushed to show her emotions whether she wants to or not. Foreman gives a low laugh, rolling his eyes. Chase looks like he might say something but Doctor Hadley beats him to it. 

“If you’re so worried, then do the labs and I’ll go with her.” 

Surprise drives out the embarrassment of feeling like an unwanted dog at the pound. Didn’t Doctor Hadley dislike her too? Why was she rushing to her aide? Was this another joke she was going to be the butt of? She chances a look at the older woman and sees her smiling. 

“Us girls have to stick together, right?” 

“R-Right.” 

Taub blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks and nods, saluting her. 

“Thanks, I owe you one.” 

“Alright children, play nice,” House calls from where he’s hobbling through the door to his connected office, tone indicating he doesn’t actually care what’s being said to one another. 

The car ride to the patient’s house is filled with an awkward silence. Martha’s unhappy she has to go at all, it’s unethical and illegal. No one else cares and she wonders if it’s because of House or their own morals. Her mother taught her right from wrong at a young age- what did everyone else’s mother teach them? As she watches trees go by, Doctor Hadley fiddles with the radio and then looks over when they stop at a red light. 

“So, how’re you liking it on the team so far?” 

“It’s been, uhmm…interesting? Definitely seeing more than what I’ve been exposed to in my own world. A lot of it’s for the worse,” she trails off, her last sentence barely audible, but the other woman must hear it. 

“You know, this team has been through a lot. And a lot of things have changed all of us, but when it comes down to it, we’re here to do our job and save people. If that means breaking rules, well.” A pause. “Is it better to watch someone die while keeping yourself pure or save an innocent life and do something risky?” 

For once, Martha’s unsure of the answer. Both are morally wrong- is there an answer that’s better than the other? It feels like some kind of perverse test so she crosses her arms against her chest and tries not to act like a petulant child. 

“Is that why you’re all so codependent?” The words tumble from her mouth before she can stop them. She wants to smack herself.

Doctor Hadley- Thirteen, as the boys call her for unknown reasons, laughs and a smile appears. 

“I wouldn’t say codependent. We just work well as a team. We also work well individually. Chase was first to work with House, then Foreman joined. After they left, Taub and I were hired. Foreman came back, and then Chase. We all fell into an easy team who can communicate pretty well.” 

“House likes you all. Was that, did he-“ she sighs and tries to reign all of her thoughts together. “Was he like that with everyone who’s been part of his team before? Or were there others who were treated like me?” 

“I think that that’s a question for him, even if he won’t answer it. He doesn’t hate you. If he did, you wouldn’t still be here. He obviously sees something in you that he wants to cultivate.” 

Martha isn’t sure what to say to that, so she nods and let’s the silence fall around them again. She’s never been good with small talk, and now it’s apparent she’s not good with any kind of talk. 

They get back to the hospital two hours later, when the clock is about to hit noon. The women head to diagnostics but it’s empty, so they reroute and take all of the plastic baggies full of their findings to the lab to start working. As they approach the large room, Martha notices a familiar figure sitting in the corner with his back to the door. He’s got his lab coat on now, and from what she can tell he’s got his chin leaning on his hand, posture screaming ‘I’m bored’. He must be waiting for a test to finish up. 

“Hey, why don’t you go find House or Foreman and let them know I’m about to run the tests,” Thirteen suggests, taking the large bag full of items and holding it. “Otherwise, House will bust in and scare the hell out of us.” 

Martha gets the feeling she’s being deliberately shooed away. There’s more than enough things that need to be tested for them to both be running them at the same time, but the inflection in the woman’s voice indicates a finality attached to her words. 

“Okay, uhm, I’ll let him know. You’re not going to do some crazy illegal test are you?” 

“No, I just think he should be updated,” the woman says in an almost trained voice, calmness radiating from her sudden tone. 

“Right. I can do that.” 

The brunette gets half way down the hall when she realizes she has no clue where their grumpy boss might be. Not wanting to explore the entirety of the hospital, Martha turns around and starts to walk back to ask her coworkers. When she gets close enough to see into the dimly lit room, she freezes. The two seem to be arguing. Chase is still on the stool in front of the microscope, looking up at Thirteen with a petulant, almost defiant look on his face. Feeling like interrupting might not be a good idea, she goes off in search of House, feeling more out of the loop than she has all day. 

XXX 

“Tests were negative.” 

“Same with ours.” 

Thirteen and Chase walk in; a much needed interruption to whatever the other three men on the team are talking about, to inform them of their findings. House sighs and stares at the board again, twirling his marker. Taub looks up from where he’s munching on his hospital-prepared sandwich from the cafeteria. She’s already finished her own salad, but Foreman is still working on his. They nabbed sandwiches for the other two, now sitting in the middle of the large glass table. 

As expected, Thirteen grabs hers ravenously, having not eaten for hours. Chase, however, sits and doesn’t so much as look at the last wrapped up sub, instead grabbing the folder to look at once again. Foreman and Taub look at the Australian, confusion written on their faces. 

“You’re not eating? You always eat. You eat more than me and Foreman combined,” the eldest of the four questions. 

With a frown, Chase grabs the sandwich and opens it, not breaking eye contact with the neurologist. He takes a bite and swallows, keeping his face impassive. 

“Better?” 

“Loads,” the man deadpans, rolling his eyes. 

Throughout the new round of ideas, Martha notices Chase hasn’t touched his sandwich since the initial bite. He’s procured a water bottle from his bag, sipping on it every few minutes, but the food goes untouched and unnoticed by everyone else. She thinks she sees House’s eyes sweep over the intensivist, but she might be imagining things- House may play favorites but the idea of him caring about someone to a degree of worry seems improbable. 

Foreman gets up to throw his trash away, prompting Thirteen to as well. As they talk about even more possibilities for the patient, Chase angles his face towards his chest, ducking his face downwards. 

“ihNGkKt! h’GXKt! h’KGkTSCH’uh! SNF!” 

The first two are quiet enough that if Martha wasn’t paying attention she doesn’t think she would have necessarily heard them. The third however is stronger and Martha cringes inwardly at not only the amount of force he’s used to try and hold it in, but also at the soupy sounding sniffle after. He gets up immediately, striding across the room to the kitchenette and plucks a tissue from the box they have sitting there. She notices he doesn’t blow, merely just wipes at his nose before pocketing the tissue and washing his hands. At least he’s hygienic.

“Bless you,” Taub throws over his shoulder casually. 

Martha watches as the blonde ignores him, moving to snatch the 90% uneaten sandwich up instead and set it in the mini fridge to finish later. The medical student has the urge to throw out yet another statistic about the act of sternation but is interrupted by all six of their pagers going off- saved by the bell. 

The rest of the day is a haze of the patient crashing, adrenaline, House getting angry for not being able to figure out what’s wrong, and everyone else picking up his energy. House is the determining factor of a lot more than she’s realized, as Foreman snaps back at their boss when he starts telling them they’re all morons. He goes as far as to insult not only Chase, but Thirteen, which Martha hasn’t witnessed yet.  

“House, we’re trying. We can’t think any faster,” the dark skinned man frowns. 

“Oh yeah? I bet I could make you think faster if you want to keep your job!” 

“You’re not going to fire any of us,” Chase drawls from where he’s sitting, having moved from the uncomfortable metal chairs at the table to the slightly less uncomfortable chairs in the corner of the room. 

“Wanna bet? You of all people should know I can and I will,” the older man sneers, moving closer to the blonde. 

Martha has an odd feeling in her stomach, something between anxiety, anticipation and most of all, surprise. Does House mean he’s fired Chase before? Surely not, not when they’re so obviously the most in-sync out of everyone. For a split second the intensivist looks like he’s going to stand up and go at it with their boss but instead he just shrugs and presses the tips of his fingers to closed eyelids. 

“Exactly. Now think.” 

Finally, Thirteen comes up with a semi-plausible idea, and though House makes it known he doesn’t truly believe it, they’re ordered to go in and check the man’s mitral valve. Doing something is better than nothing, Martha agrees. 

“Chase, scrub up and take Taub and Ms. Goody-two-shoes with you.” 

“Can’t we have Masters do-“ 

“Absolutely not. This isn’t time for a learning experience, this is time to cut open this guy and fix him so he lives. She helps, you do.” 

A grumble of incomprehensible words are drowned out by Taub getting up out of his chair and patting her shoulder, leaning his head towards the door as a gesture to tell her to follow. She does, not wanting to deal with any more childish back and forth arguing. As they all head down the hallway, Masters looks at Taub for direction. She doesn’t understand why Chase is upset she’s not doing it- usually it’s the other way around. 

As the three slip into the empty elevator, Chase uses the inside of his wrist to scrub at his nose, sniffling yet again. Normally Martha wouldn’t notice these things, but he was late, so now all her attention is solely on him. It’s definitely not because he’s gorgeous or funny or the only to even remotely build her up sometimes. 

“So why don’t you wanna do the surgery?” Taub asks, turning to the taller man. 

“Because it’s cold in the OR and I’m already freezing,” Chase grumps, pulling his lab coat tighter. “Scrubs can only keep you so warm.” 

[call-me-maggie13]

"When do I get my uniform?" Beatrice is arranging her crayons in the box by color, having already organized her notebooks and folders by color and put them away in her rucksack.

"We don’t have uniforms." Shannon balances a marker atop an eraser before catapulting it at Beatrice, it misses and thumps into the wall behind her head.

"Then what do we wear to class?" Beatrice hands the marker back to Shannon and waits for another failed attempt to launch it at her.

"I prefer to wear clothes, but I guess you could wear whatever." Shannon shrugs and sticks her tongue out when Beatrice rolls her eyes. "I usually wear shorts and a t-shirt but the baby school is always cold so you should probably wear pants and a sweater."

"The baby school?" Shannon flings the marker across the room, again, and misses, again.

"Yeah, the school for all the babies. You’ll be the top baby in your class." Beatrice holds the marker behind her, braces Shannon away from reaching it. "Okay fine, it’s what the older kids call the primary school. It’s where you’re going."

"You’re not going with me?" Beatrice drops her arm, Shannon snatches the marker from her before noticing the tiny wrinkle between her brows and the bow of her back.

Beatrice never slouches.

"No, I’m going to the junior high across the street." Beatrice’s head falls forward minutely, she pulls away when Shannon tries to throw her arm around her shoulders. "Hey, I’ll show you around and I’ll just be across the street if you need me. Okay?"

"I’m going alone?"

"No. You’ll never be alone, Bea. You’ll always have me. It doesn’t matter if I’m across the street or across the country, I’ll always be here if you need me."

"I don’t need you." Beatrice kicks her crayons away as she rushes from the room. Shannon watches her speed walk down the hall and slam her bedroom door. She sighs and fixes the crayons the way Beatrice had them arranged before, tucking the marker she’d been using as a projectile back into its box and shoving it into her bag.

They don’t speak about it for five days. It isn’t until the day before school starts that Beatrice approaches Shannon about it again.

"Would this be acceptable to wear tomorrow?" She holds up a pair of slacks, a button up, and a sweater. It might as well be a school uniform, but it’s not much different than what Beatrice wears every day.

"Yeah. I mean, you could wear something comfier but that will work too."

"Oh." Beatrice’s face falls and she bites her lip.

"Hey," Shannon flicks her ear. "It’s great. It’s totally you. I like it."

"Do - do you really?" Beatrice refuses to look at Shannon when she’s trying not to cry.

"I do. I like how you dress like an old man sometimes. It’s cute." Shannon bumps their shoulders and throws her arm over her shoulder.

"You promise?"

"Of course, bumble Bea. Why would I lie to my favorite person in the world?"

"I am?" Shannon nods, eyes bright and smile soft.

"Always have been, always will be, stupid." She ruffles Beatrice’s hair and Beatrice ducks away from the contact, playfully pushes Shannon’s hand away when she tries to repeat the action.

The next morning, Beatrice is practically buzzing with anxiety, her fingers and toes tapping until Shannon covers her wiggling hand with her own.

"Dude, imma need you to stop, you’re making me nervous." Martha frowns at Shannon from the other side of the kitchen island.

"Sorry." Beatrice pokes the eggs on her plate, she hasn’t eaten.

"You need to eat something, the oldest kids get lunch last," Martha offers a bowl of fresh fruit and Beatrice picks the leaves off a strawberry she has no intention of eating.

"Hey mom, did you get those cookies I like for my lunch today?"

"I did. Would you like me to put them in your lunch sack?" Shannon nods and Martha disappears. When the door closes behind her, Shannon spins, knees knocking into Beatrice’s thigh.

"Okay, so we’re gunna walk there and back together, yeah? I’ll drop you off at the flag post and we’ll meet there after, sound good?" She eats the strawberry from Beatrice while she’s talking then takes three quick bites from an apple that she drops in front of her, Beatrice frowns and tries to push it back to her. "No, leave it. Mom won’t let us leave until you eat."

Martha rejoins them, stares suspiciously at the half eaten apple in front of Beatrice, but she doesn’t say anything.

"We’re gunna head out, okay?" Martha nods and stacks their dishes, accepts a quick kiss on the cheek from Shannon before she’s gone.

"You remember my number, Beatrice?" Beatrice nods. "Okay, call if you need me to get you."

"Bea, let’s go before she convinces you to do homeschool." Shannon grabs her wrist and drags her into the foyer, tosses her rucksack into Beatrice’s chest, followed by her lunch bag before Beatrice even has a chance to settle her bag on her shoulders. Homeschooling doesn’t sound terrible.

Shannon chatters the entire five block walk to the schoolhouse. Various stories about her school friends and the teacher she’d had in Beatrice’s year. Mrs. Biles sounds very kind, she is certainly Shannon’s favorite.

"Okay so this is where we’ll meet," Shannon points to the empty flag post, "but I’m gunna go ahead and walk you to your class, what room is it?"

"411." Beatrice tries not to think about how there are at least four hundred and eleven rooms in the schoolhouse. Tries to not let it shoot her heart rate into the stratosphere.

"That’s Mrs. Biles’s class! Dude, you’re going to love her!" Shannon drags Beatrice through the double doors and into a crowded hallway.

It seems like every other person is greeting Shannon, a few offering high fives and shoulder pats. Everyone knows her. They must, because everyone smiles and waves at them, even if they don’t greet Shannon.

There are so many other children. Nearly a million. Probably. If not, it certainly feels like it.

"Hey!" Shannon just walks into the classroom. Like she owns it. Like she’s supposed to be here. Beatrice wishes she had that. She doesn’t know what it’s called, but she wishes she felt like she was supposed to be here.

"Little Miss Shannon. Aren’t you in the upper level this year? Don’t tell me you got held back. Was it for starting fires again?" The woman is young and bright, her skin dark like willow bark. Her hair is curly and long, bouncing when she spins to tease Shannon, her toothy smile crooked. Beatrice decides in this moment, she likes her.

Shannon giggles and rocks onto the balls of her feet, pulling Beatrice in front of her.

"This is Beatrice! She’s in your class!"

"Well hello, Beatrice. I’m Mrs. Biles but you can call me Mrs. B if you would like." She doesn’t do the friendly teacher thing where she kneels to be eye level with her. Beatrice has always felt it was patronizing when they would do it. She takes the hand offered to shake before pulling away and ducking behind Shannon.

"You can go ahead and find a seat. And you, little troublemaker," she grins when she turns back to Shannon, "should go before you’re late."

"Okay." She spins and takes Beatrice by the shoulders. "I’m just across the courtyard. And mom said she can pick you up early if you - "

"I’m okay." Beatrice isn’t certain if she is, however. Her stomach is twisting and her hands would be shaking if she hadn’t already clenched them into fists at her side.

"Okay but if you decide to do homeschool, I’m gunna do it too. So you’ll be stuck with no one but me and mom all day every day. Just remember that." She tries to wink but she hasn’t quite figured it out yet so it’s more of a half blink. "Flag post. Don’t forget."

"I won’t." Beatrice receives the quickest and tightest hug of her entire life before Shannon leaves.

She lingers next to the teacher’s desk. She isn’t certain where to sit, she’s never had a teacher that didn’t assign seats. It’s surprisingly overwhelming.

"Hey, new girl." Beatrice turns to the other girl, but she doesn’t respond. "Do you wanna sit next to me?"

She has kind blue eyes and a dimpled smile, she nods to the desk beside her and tilts her head.

What would Shannon do?

Shannon would sit with the girl. She would exchange names and phone numbers and birthdates and they would be best friends before lunch. Shannon would invite her over after school to do cartwheels in the backyard or something of that sort.

But Beatrice isn’t Shannon.

She’s still debating when a floppy haired boy tries to take the seat.

"Go away, Psalm. My friend is going to sit here." The girl sticks her tongue out at the boy who responds by sticking his own tongue out before continuing down the row, pausing three seats back to respond.

"I didn’t know you had friends, Aster. I thought your best friend was Rock or Bird or something."

Aster. Beatrice has never heard the name but she can’t imagine this girl with any other name.

"Oh shut up and go pray to your cult daddy about it." The remark earns a few snickers and Beatrice suddenly feels more out of her depth than she did before.

"He’s not a - "

"That’s enough, children. In this classroom, we aren’t going to talk to each other like that. Am I clear?" There’s a chorus of agreements and Mrs. Biles nudges Beatrice towards the seat. "Can everyone find a seat so we can muster? Afterwards, we’ll go over classroom rules and etiquette."

Beatrice is the only one still standing and, suddenly, the choice is made for her because the only available seat is the one Aster has offered. She takes it quietly, sinks into her seat when she feels everyone’s eyes following her.

She tries to fall back into the empty space in her head, tries to shut the curtain behind her eyes and sink into the backseat but she hears her name right as she’s nearly there. Except -

"Beatrice Masters?" Mrs. Biles is looking directly at her, waiting for some form of acknowledgement but that’s not - that’s not her name.

Masters. Beatrice Masters.

"I think that’s you," Aster leans across the aisle with a giggle.

"Beatrice?" Her heart is thundering in her head, skin hot and burning and too tight. "That is your name, is it not?"

Beatrice shakes her head and Mrs. Biles frowns and squints at the roster, leans over her desk to click on her computer for a moment before turning back to her with furrowed brows.

"Are you certain you’re in the right classroom, Beatrice?" Mrs. Biles must notice the rapid rise and fall of her chest so she motions her to come up to the desk. Waits until Beatrice stops in front of the desk to lean forward with a crooked smile to whisper. "These things happen sometimes, it’s not your fault. I’m going to send an email to the administration but you’re going to stay until I hear back, is that alright?"

Beatrice nods again and Mrs. Biles taps away at her keyboard before following up with one single question that makes Beatrice’s chest ache.

"Can I ask why you’re staying with the Masters?"

"Um…"

"She’s Shannon’s charity project!" It’s the same boy as before, floppy hair falling in his eyes.

"Psalm, shut up! No one cares what you have to say. Ever." Aster throws an eraser at him. It bounces off his forehead and he collects it from the floor, preparing to launch it back at her.

"Don’t you dare." Mrs. Biles is on her feet and rounding the desk before he has a chance to aim, hand outstretched waiting for him to drop it into her palm before collecting anything else she deems a projectile from Aster’s desk as well. "You will get these back either at the end of the day or when you prove you are no longer a danger to others."

"I’m not a danger to others, just that infernal skunk." Her remark makes Beatrice giggle, soft and twinkling like wind chimes.

Beatrice offers Aster a pencil when she retakes her seat and receives a smile that makes her chest ache. They don’t have an opportunity to speak the rest of the morning, Mrs. Biles lays out the rules and passes out introductory paperwork, an "about me" worksheet that she promises isn’t going to be presented to the class, and a blank page that she asks them to draw their families on.

She leaves hers blank.

She watches her neighbors draw instead. Aster has five siblings, three dogs, four cats, and a lot of fish, if her picture is accurate. The boy to her right has three dogs and a baby sibling. Behind her, a girl has six adults that live with her, and three little boys. She cranes her neck to peek at Psalm’s portrait, but she quickly loses count of the children in the picture.

She figures it fits, he seems like a child that has to scream to be seen.

Beatrice is some sort of crooked opposite. She doesn’t want to be seen. Not by her parents, at the very least. She wishes to disappear into the linoleum tiles and ugly, pea green wall paint. To melt into her hard, plastic seat until there’s no pulling them apart.

He catches her staring and covers his paper with his arm before sticking his tongue out and glaring at her.

Mrs. Biles collects the papers individually, inspects them quietly and offers compliments to each student she passes. She doesn’t insult Beatrice’s blank page, she pauses and looks it over intently before smiling softly and tucking it behind the rest of the stack.

Aster takes her hand and drags her to the back of the line when they’re lining up for lunch.

"Beatrice? Could you stay back a minute?" The rest of the class departs with the lunch monitor but Beatrice and Aster. "Aster, go with the class."

"Beatrice is part of the class." The way she says it, there’s no room for discussion. She’s in charge and she’s not going anywhere. Beatrice isn’t sure where this fierce defensiveness over her is coming from, but she doesn’t quite mind.

"Do you mind?" Beatrice shakes her head and Aster jumps onto the top of a desk beside the door, swings her legs and stares intensely at the multiplication table on the wall.

Mrs. Biles motions for Beatrice to follow her around the desk where she already has a document pulled up on the screen. Beatrice doesn’t recognize it, but she does see her name. Multiple times.

Except.

Masters, Beatrice C.

"So it does look like you were enrolled under the name Beatrice Masters. If you would like, I can call Martha during your lunch break and we can discuss changing it to whatever you’re used to?"

Beatrice isn’t certain. She’s not Beatrice Masters. That’s not the name she was given when she was born. It’s not the name she knows herself as.

But she wants to be. She thinks she wants to be.

"Tell you what, I’ll send you home with a letter for Martha and you and her can talk about it and she can let me know, yeah?" Beatrice nods and she turns to follow Aster out of the classroom. "Oh, and Beatrice?" When she turns she receives a shimmering smile. "Family is whoever you want it to be. It’s not just who you share blood with, it can have whoever you want your family to include."

Beatrice isn’t certain who she wants her family to be. She spends her lunch break and recess listening to her new friend rambling about so many topics Beatrice can’t keep track while worrying about who her family is.

She knows she wants to be a part of the family she’s been living with. They’ve felt more like home than her parents ever have.

But if she’s not her parents’ child, who is she?

When Mrs. Biles passes their pictures back out after lunch, Beatrice splits the page down the middle and draws both.

On one side, her mother and father flank her on either side, faces blank and clothes dark. When she looks back on this picture later in her life, she won’t know if it was an intentional decision or if that’s truly how she remembered her parents that day.

On the other, a stick figure Shannon grins beside her in a brightly colored dress. They’re sandwiched between Martha and Rich, all smiling beneath a shining sun. She even includes Jasper.

"Who’s that?" Aster leans across the aisle to point to her parents.

"My mother and father."

"Why don’t you live with them?" The girl behind her chirps, pushing upward to peer at the picture over Beatrice’s shoulder.

"I thought Shannon picked you up off the street," Psalm quips, dissolving into a quiet giggle. No one else laughs.

"Children, this is a solo assignment. We are not collaborating yet."

Beatrice wants to pull her hair out of its bun, wants to let it create a curtain between her and the rest of the class. She has one hour and twenty-seven minutes before the dismissal bell. One hour and forty-two minutes before Shannon will meet her at the flag post and they can walk back together.

But she will be right back here at eight o’clock tomorrow.

Mrs. Biles pats her shoulder when she passes to collect their pictures, stacking them neatly on her desk before stepping before the whiteboard and clasping her hands in front of her.

"We have one final activity before I will relinquish you for the rest of the day." They still have an hour left. Are they allowed to be released early? Surely not. "We are going to play a game. Two truths and a lie. Can anyone tell me the rules?" Beatrice has never heard of this game.

"Ooh ooh!" Aster bounces in her seat, nearly ripping her arm from the socket to raise hers the highest. Mrs. Biles selects her to explain the game. "So you have to say two true things and one not true thing about yourself and everyone has to guess what the lie is! I am exceptionally good at this game."

"Good job, Aster! Does anyone have any questions?" No one speaks. "Okay. I’m going to give you a few minutes to think about your statements then I’m going to go first and we’ll popcorn around until everyone’s had a turn."

Beatrice doesn’t like lying. It’s a sin. She can’t tell a lie about herself without needing repentance.

Her head hurts. Pressure building behind her eyes and ears ringing.

"What are yours?" Aster leans across the aisle, holds her own paper up for Beatrice to trade. If she’s disappointed Beatrice’s is blank, she doesn’t say anything.

1) I have a pet peacock named Dusty.

2) I have been to a concert at every Taylor Swift tour since I was born.

3) I was born in Australia.

Beatrice wonders what kind of life Aster has lived to have both of her truths be as unbelievable as her lie.

"Do you want help?" Beatrice shrugs. She doesn’t know how this is a school sanctioned activity. It doesn’t feel right for her to tell a lie, even if it’s for a game. "Okay. I got this."

Aster takes Beatrice’s paper and begins to write on it. She only pauses once, scrunching her nose and tip of her tongue poking out from between her teeth. When she returns it, it’s nearly completed.

1) I can speak __ languages.

2) I can play __ instruments.

3) My favorite book is ___.

Beatrice wrinkles her eyebrows and looks at her, confused.

"Just fill it in. Shannon said you’re like the Rosetta Stone. And that you like instruments. I assume you like to read, you have three books in your bag." Beatrice glances between Aster and her book bag. "I snoop. You should know that about me."

How? How was I supposed to know that about you? Beatrice wants to ask.

"Is everyone ready?" Mrs. Biles waits for confirmation from the majority of the class before continuing. "I have two dogs named Lilo and Stitch. I’ve never had McDonalds before. And I know how to juggle."

Beatrice glances around the room, sees no evidence of any Disney movies decorating the walls. If someone were to name their pet after a character, you would expect at least some visual evidence of their existence in their room. Never eating McDonalds feels unlikely too, but not improbable. Juggling however, just sounds intriguing. There’s no way to tell if someone can juggle just by appearance.

"Show of hands, who thinks Lilo and Stitch are the lie?" Beatrice nearly puts her hand up. Not a single other student raises their hand. "McDonalds?" Probably half the class raises their hands. "And juggling?" The rest raise their hands. Mrs. Biles raises an eyebrow at Beatrice but she doesn’t force an answer from her. "Well, you’re all wrong. While I do have two dogs, their names are not Lilo and Stitch, they are Abra and Cadabra."

"You can juggle?" Aster bounces in her seat.

"I can."

"You’ve never been to McDonalds?"

"Did your parents not love you?"

"I eat McDonalds a lot!"

Mrs. Biles chuckles and quiets the class.

"Moving on. Who wants to go first?" Psalm’s and Aster’s hands launch into the air, Mrs. Biles laughs. "Why don’t we start with you Psalm? You can go next, Aster."

"I have eight siblings. I have never been to the mountains. I have a cat named Noodles."

"You’re allergic to cats." Aster doesn’t even bother turning around to make the statement. "Your lie isn’t supposed to be obvious."

"It wouldn’t’ve been obvious if you weren’t such a stalker." Psalm snaps back, crumpling his paper and launching it at Aster’s head.

"Mister Psalm! That is completely inappropriate and unacceptable behavior for my classroom." Aster snickers and Mrs. Biles turns to address her. "Miss Aster, your actions are also reprehensible, you need not forget where you are, child. I assume I will have no choice but to separate you two if neither of you can learn to behave yourselves."

"What’s reprehensible mean?" Aster asks quietly.

"It’s an adjective that means morally wrong and deserving criticism. A synonym is deplorable." Beatrice answers easily, not realizing the entire class has turned to her.

"Wait, you’re British?"

"She’s not British, she’s a robot."

"Do you read the dictionary for fun?"

"Hey, android. What does deplorable mean?" A few students giggle and Beatrice starts to answer when Mrs. Biles closes the space between her and Psalm and tells him to follow her.

"Hey, Beatrice?" Aster leans into the aisle after Mrs. Biles and Psalm step into the hallway. Beatrice nods. "What does deplorable mean?"

"It’s another adjective that means very bad and unacceptable, often in a way that shocks people."

"How do you know that?" The girl behind her — who Beatrice had learned is named Maisie during lunch — asks. Beatrice doesn’t know if she’s going to make fun of her. She doesn’t know if she already is.

"I read the dictionary occasionally. I like words and definitions."

"What’s your favorite word?" Maisie looks at her the same way Jasper looks at her when Shannon tells him to sit. She doesn’t understand.

"Right now it’s nudnik. It’s a noun that means a person who is a bore or a nuisance. But my favorite word before that was hullabaloo. It’s another noun that means a lot of loud noise, especially made by people who are annoyed or excited about something."

Mrs. Biles returns alone. The class grows eerily quiet.

"Alright, moving on. Aster, are you ready?"

Beatrice finds the game to be a unique way to learn about her new classmates. It’s fairly interesting to see the kinds of things her peers lie about. Like Aurore, who says she has a pet wallaby but doesn’t think they’re related to kangaroos and Chaya who says he’s been to Buckingham Palace but doesn’t even know where it is.

And Aster, who does have a pet peacock but his name is Shimmer.

"Beatrice?" Beatrice flinches when the class turns to stare at her again. "You’re the only one who hasn’t gone."

I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go. Please please please -

"Can I read it for you?" Aster’s already grabbing the paper from her desk and clearing her throat to read it aloud before she’s even finished her question. "I can speak eight languages. I can play seven instruments. My favorite book is Swallowing Stones."

The class is pretty evenly divided between the languages and the instruments being the lie, a simmering chatter building while they discuss the likelihood that the book on her desk isn’t her favorite.

"So, which is it, Beatrice?" She truly does not want to answer. She doesn’t like how everyone is looking at her. Waiting for her.

"The book."

"The book? What languages do you speak?" Aster drops the paper and spins in her seat to completely face Beatrice, utterly entranced.

"English, Spanish, Mandarin, Latin, French, Portuguese, German, and Italian. I can only read and write English, Latin, and Mandarin, however." It’s clinical. No emotion. Beatrice suddenly understands why Psalm called her an android. She has no inflection.

"And instruments?" The boy in front of her has completely twisted around in his desk to ask.

"Piano, violin, cello, clarinet, flute, saxophone, and guitar."

Aster leans across the aisle to poke her cheek, Beatrice ducks away and frowns at her.

"Are you sure you’re real?" Beatrice doesn’t understand the question. Of course she is real. She’s sitting within arms reach of the other girl. What does she mean?

"Well, what is your favorite book, Beatrice?" Mrs. Biles captures their attention again and Beatrice doesn’t want to answer.

Luckily, the bell saves her, trilling and sending her peers racing to pack their materials away and rush out of the building. Aster waits for Beatrice to carefully replace her belongings into her bag, arranging her pencils so the tips all face the same direction in her pencil box. She also stacks her books by size before carefully ensuring they’re secured within her rucksack.

"What is your favorite book?" Aster asks softly when Beatrice finally stands, shifting her bag onto her back.

It gives her pause. The gentle curiosity.

She doesn’t know. She didn’t know she was allowed to have a favorite anything before this summer. Her favorites were whatever her mother told her they were. Jane Austen, tiramisu, lavender chamomile tea, the color purple, orchids.

She knows what her mother’s answer would be. She knows what her mother would tell her to say. The Bible. It’s the only correct answer.

But it’s not Beatrice’s answer. At least, she doesn’t want it to be. She doesn’t think so.

"I’m not certain. Would it be possible for me to consider it and get back to you?" Aster bites back a smile and forces a calm nod, Beatrice doesn’t notice.

"Good evening, Mrs. Biles." Beatrice pauses to shake the woman’s hand, a tender and practiced smile on her face.

"Good evening, Miss Beatrice. I hope to see you here again tomorrow." Mrs. Biles’s hand is firm around Beatrice’s, not squeezing or painful but strong and steady. She shakes it a single time before dismissing the pair for the evening.

The halls are empty, a blessing Beatrice had not thought she would receive on this terrifying day. Aster chatters beside her, hands shoved into the front pocket of her pullover as she meanders slowly through the building. Beatrice tries to pay attention to what she’s saying, truly. But she speaks so fast and she doesn’t like to look Beatrice in the face when she talks so Beatrice is having a very difficult time understanding her words.

She’s surprised to find Aster following her across the quad to the flag post, where she unceremoniously drops to the ground beside it, still speaking quickly and showing no sign of slowing any time soon.

Beatrice watches the front doors of the school across the way anxiously, chewing on her lip and rocking softly side to side.

"My baby sister does that." Aster mimics the rocking motion curiously. "Does it make you feel better?"

"No. I apologize for being distracting." Beatrice forces herself to still and shake her head. Aster tilts her head but doesn’t continue.

"They’re gunna come out the side door next to the big tree." Aster points to a large oak tree around the far side of the schoolhouse.

"Who?"

"Shannon and my sister. River told me they’re on that end this year." Aster rips a handful of grass from beneath her and flattens her palm to watch the breeze carry the blades and dirt away. Beatrice bites her lip again.

She doesn’t dare ask any more questions. She will make herself seem like an imbecile if she doesn’t stop responding to everything Aster says with a question.

It’s like her mother always told her: la curiosité est un vilain défaut.

She forces herself to slow her heartbeat, focus on the way her lungs rise and fall despite the bitter autumn air, empty her mind and slip back inside herself again.

It’s better to be a passenger in her own body than an imbecile.

"Hey!" Shannon nearly tackles her under the force of the hug, jostles Beatrice until she loses her footing and begins to slip only for Shannon to tighten around her to keep her steady. Shannon’s cheeks are flushed and her breathing is rushed and her excitement is palatable. "Sorry, how was it? I see you met Baby Blue."

Baby blue?

"My name is still Aster, Shannon." The smaller girl sticks her tongue out only for Shannon to swipe her palm down it and receive a shriek in response. It makes Beatrice’s stomach hurt.

"You met River’s sister."

"Oh. Yes. That is correct." Beatrice flinches when a boy laughs behind her.

"Oh yes, that is correct. Beep bop." The boy mocks, moving his arms like a stiff robot. "Are you actually an android? Weirdo."

"Psalm, do not make me beat you up again. You just got out of your last cast." Shannon steps around Beatrice, arms wide and chest puffed in an attempt to make herself look bigger.

"I can’t believe you got an android before me. And it looks so realistic, I almost didn’t realize it was fake. Nearly thought she was a real girl." He laughs and the small girl beside him frowns and furrows her eyebrows, staring at him confused.

"Psalm, what did Father say about picking fights with Shannon?" A taller boy claps his hand over Psalm’s shoulder and her classmate tries to shrug it off only for the boy to clamp his hand around it. "If you don’t learn to mind, I’m going to have to tell Father that you’re disrespecting and antagonizing girls again."

"Thanks, Zephaniah, but I can fight my own battles." Shannon steps closer to Psalm only for the taller boy to block her. He’s at least a torso taller than Shannon, probably twice her width and weight. He would destroy her if there were a physical altercation.

"Not this one, Masters. I don’t need any more little girls tainting my family name." His phrasing is weird, Beatrice realizes. Like his words have been rehearsed. There’s something in his eye that Beatrice doesn’t like. She can’t name it but it makes her chest tight so she tugs Shannon away.

"If you even think about talking to my sister again, I will kill you. No God will be able to protect you from me."

Sister?

Shannon sighs and takes Beatrice’s hand carefully, guiding her away from the boys and up the street towards her house.

"I guess he’s in your class too?" Beatrice doesn’t respond to Shannon’s question, but Aster does, nodding and immediately launching into a rant about the boy. She complains all the way to the final crosswalk, where River and Aster turn left while Beatrice and Shannon continue ahead.

"Are you okay?" Beatrice nods but still doesn’t speak. Her body hurts suddenly. And her head. She’s tired, also.

She’s so tired.

"I’m sorry about Psalm. He’s the worst in his whole family, if you could believe it. But he shouldn’t bother you anymore, if he does just tell me." Beatrice can picture Psalm’s brother’s fist in Shannon’s face. She shakes her head aggressively to rid herself of the image. She doesn’t want Shannon to fight for her.

She doesn’t want Shannon to get hurt because of her.

"Was the rest of the day good at least? Mrs. Biles is pretty awesome, she’s my favorite teacher. I’m really glad you’re in her class."

Martha is standing in the front yard waiting for them, smiling and waving and Beatrice’s heart sinks into her stomach.

She doesn’t want to do this anymore.

She’s not certain what this is. All she knows is she doesn’t want it anymore. She wants to go to bed. She doesn’t want to talk about her day or her classmates or her possible new friend or her definitive new enemy.

Martha doesn’t ask, thankfully. She offers them both a hug and follows them inside. Shannon drops her bag just inside the entryway and kicks it to the side before farting up the stairs, Martha sighs and collects the bag from the floor while Beatrice starts up the stairs behind her.

"Hey Beatrice, before you go, Mrs. Biles emailed me. We don’t have to talk about it right now, but whenever you’re ready, I’ll be down here." She nods down the hall and Beatrice hesitates with her hand on the banister. "You look tired, kiddo. Go take a nap, we can talk when you wake up, how about that?"

A nap? She’s not a toddler, she doesn’t need a nap.

Still, she nods and continues to her room silently. Shannon is already on her bed, sprawled on her back like a starfish across the duvet. She’s awake, but she doesn’t say anything. Not yet.

She waits until Beatrice steps out of her closet wearing a pullover and sweatpants. More specifically, Shannon’s favorite blue pullover with koi fish on the sleeves and white sweatpants. Beatrice had stolen it from Shannon’s closet more than a month ago, in between her arrival and her admitting to Martha and Rich that she might need more clothes than she’d brought with her.

Shannon wiggles an eyebrow at her but doesn’t comment on the outfit, flops over barely enough for Beatrice to have room to lay beside her.

Neither says anything, they lay in a simple silence until Beatrice is nearly certain Shannon is asleep. Just as the gentle lull of sleep starts to tug her under, Shannon rolls over to face her.

"Is it okay that I called you my sister?" Shannon is strong and Shannon is certain and Beatrice has no doubt that Shannon knows almost everything there is to know.

But right now, Shannon is quiet and scared and uncertain.

It’s unnerving.

"Do you want me to be your sister?" Beatrice doesn’t recognize her voice as herself, it sounds foreign and strange to be coming from herself.

"You kinda already are, right? I mean you live with me, doesn’t that mean you’re my sister?"

"I don’t know." Beatrice doesn’t like not having answers readily available to her. She already hates not knowing things, but not being able to find a seemingly simple answer to a seemingly simple question is infinitely worse.

Shannon doesn’t push for more from her. She doesn’t rephrase the query in that way that nearly makes it sound like a different question that she’s so fond of. She just watches Beatrice for another moment before rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling.

Her hand is millimeters from Beatrice’s but she doesn’t intwine their fingers. She doesn’t have to. Just being beside her is enough to slow Beatrice’s racing mind.

It’s dark when Beatrice wakes. Shannon’s gone, the blankets she'd been using are long grown cold beside Beatrice. She’s not certain why Shannon didn’t wake her. She’s especially unsure why Martha or Rich hadn’t woken her either.

She considers going back to sleep. She probably could, the exhaustion pressing heavy behind her eyes and sinking her deeper into her bed begging for her reunion.

But her stomach grumbles. Loud and angry and achy. And the hunger is stronger than the lingering sleepiness, pushing her out of the bed and down the stairs to the kitchen.

Martha is sat at the island flipping through a cookbook, the light above her head warming the room like a lantern on a cold dark night.

"I didn’t mean to sleep through supper, I’m sorry." Her words still have that sleepy drawl to them, making her sound like a babbling baby. She hates it.

"Oh you’re alright, sugar. Today was a lot, I expected you to be tired. Do you want some chicken alfredo?" Beatrice nods and rubs her eyes, trying to wipe the drowsiness away with her knuckles. Martha guides her to the seat she’d just been in, pauses to rub her shoulder before prattling about the kitchen reheating a bowl of pasta for Beatrice.

"Thank you." Beatrice has to bite back a yawn, flinching when something thumps above her head.

"It’s Shannon. She’s trying to do handstands."

"It doesn’t sound like she’s being particularly successful," Beatrice smiles at her over the steaming bowl. Martha laughs and strokes her hair.

She knows they have to talk about it. She knows Martha wants to talk about it. But she doesn’t want to. She’s not certain she wants to know.

"There’s the sleepyhead," Rich shoots a finger gun at her before pouring a glass of orange juice and sliding into the stool across from her. "Are you gunna be able to sleep tonight?"

Beatrice nods.

"So, do you want to talk about the email?" Beatrice drops her fork and glances anxiously between them. "You’re not in trouble, kiddo. I promise."

Another thump above their heads, the dishes in the cabinets clatter.

"We probably should’ve spoken to you before today about it, I’m sorry we blindsided you. But our district puts younger children with their siblings’ teachers. We wanted you to have someone we already knew, someone we already trusted. And Shannon loved Mrs. Biles’s class, so we figured that would help a bit with the nerves if you knew Shannon liked her." Martha looks like she wants to reach across the island and bundle Beatrice into her arms. But she doesn’t.

"We can talk to the administration tomorrow and get your name changed, if you would like, but it’s up to you." Rich does reach across the island to ruffle her hair, the contact makes Beatrice’s chest feel warm and gooey. "But it’s whatever you want to do. Whether you want our name or not, you’re still our girl, alrighty?"

Our girl.

"What does that mean?" Beatrice blinks and stares at the bowl in front of her, letting her hair block her face so they can’t see her tears.

"Which part? That you’re our girl?" Beatrice nods, she doesn’t trust herself to speak. Rich takes a steadying breath and moves beside her, crouches so he can catch her eye. "It means that we want you in our family, Beatrice. In whatever way you want to be. We love you, kiddo."

Beatrice stares at him wide eyes wet and red. He holds his arms out for her to crash into, thumping unsteadily into his chest. He holds her, crouched beside the kitchen island and rubbing circles in her back until she stops crying.

Beatrice isn’t certain when she started crying so much.

"Are you certain?" Rich squeezes her before loosening his grip to look her in the face again.

"Of course we’re certain. Nothing will change that." He wipes her tears away under his thumbs, smiling assuringly until she finally pulls away.

"I don’t think it is something I would like to change."

"Yeah?" Martha sounds so eager, desperately trying to fight back a wide smile.

"Yes. As long as it is acceptable to you." She nods finally before tacking on. "And Shannon."

"And Shannon what?" Shannon is panting as she pushes past Martha for a glass of water, cheeks flushed red and hair tousled wildly.

"Beatrice would like to go by Masters at school. She wants to make sure it’s alright with you." Shannon shrugs and wipes sweat from her face.

"I don’t care. Whatever you wanna do, dude." She says it steady, calm and nearly emotionless but there’s a shimmer in her face that tells Beatrice she’s excited by the prospect. "And before you ask, yes I am certain."

Her taunt makes Rich giggle, soft and warm and Beatrice wishes he would do it again.

That night, he lingers in her doorway after their tuck in. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just watches her wiggle in her bed until she finally gets comfortable before finally speaking.

"I love you, Beatrice."

Beatrice doesn’t know how to describe it. The way his voice sounds like a mixture of safety and adoration she’s never been given before. She’s not certain how to describe the way his words make her body feel warm and tingly, presses her chest out a little wider.

Find more here!

[f4nd0m-fun]

Double Isekai Cryptids

@puppetmaster13u

Some images at the end BTW

@hallowsden helped me with this idea but basically...

||=====||=====|| Background ||=====||=====||

Gotham is a piece of Faerun that got warped to Earth decades if not centuries ago. While it's not connected to Faerun as much as it used to be, anyone there is more 'forced human' than 'actual human', at least in a general sense. If anyone happens to find themselves in Faerun though, their truer form or forms unlock, which can certainly be surprising for most. But as long as they're on earth, they seem almost entirely human, although it's best not to stare at a gothamite for too long, especially a stressed child (as those have the easiest time accidentally showing their truths).

Of course, Gotham wasn't the first planar warp, and wouldn't be the last. After all, the LoA were tied intrinsically to this as well, once a long proud line of demons, reduced to immortal humanity. No wonder Ras sought Bruce as a son-in-law, both his skills and his ties to the Before.

Alfred has technically been around since the planar warp, he just happened to decide to explore this 'new' world a few times, and see what it had to offer. Perhaps the closest equivalent to what he would be might be along the lines of an 'arch changeling' (essentially just an arch fey though).

What Thomas and Martha were, no one is really certain of, but after what happened with their first son, they tried for another. Unbeknownst to them, it died shortly after, and Alfred replaced the dead child with one of his own in an attempt to make his partners happy.

Bruce is a changeling. His parents suspected something was different, but didn't care to dig, they were just happy to have him. But when they died, his form glitched out, a partial change, the poor traumatized child being found by Gordon who was quick to wrap him up and out of sight until he calmed. Eventually, Leslie found out as well, but Bruce didn't find out for years.

Slade is a vampire. Not of the DC variety persay, but similar, just dampened by the lack of access to the Before. Due to this, his actions towards Dick caused the boy to be a hidden Dhampir, although his family already had a long line of dampened elven blood.

Jason is a Duegar, sturdy and good at tinkering, but quite used to darkness, although he may even have a little surface dwarf in him. It's not certain, but perhaps this is the true origin of that white streak he has.

Cass is a drow, showcased in her elegant movements and affinity for the darkness.

Tim is a probably a gnome, well known for their inventiveness.

Steph is a kenku, although that can change.

Duke is undecided.

Damien is technically a tiefling, altho the human in him is merely a mimcry due to the nature of his father.

||=====||=====|| Story ||=====||=====||

The exact reason is unknown, but Bruce and his children get scattered around Faerun during the events of BG3, Bruce taking the place as Tav. Due to the isekai plus tadpole alongside the fact that everyone got de-aged roughly a decade (time in the two realms runs differently), he has minor amnesia. As a funny not-funny, the Guardian takes the appearance of Joker, and Bruce is not happy. He's not entirely sure why he hates the figure but he knows he will annoy him as much as possible. He starts as a rogue, adds monk, focuses on monk, and then happens to notice he's apparently a warlock out of the blue? (more on that later) Idea is to have him Monk 5 Rogue 4 Warlock 3 (before any extra levels from mods).

Bruce 31, Dick 13, Jason 9, Cass 9, Steph 8, Tim 7, Duke 5, Damien 1

Jason and Cass are found in the underdark, and, even afterwards, keep (sorta jokingly) playing the twin card. Cass keeps calling Jason 'little brother' and he keeps telling her, and others, that he's older (saying how many weeks or months apart as minutes instead).

Dick and Damien are found at Last Light's Inn, having been kinda taken in by Jaheira. Dick still doesn't realize he's a Dhampir, just that he's been eating a lot more red meat. Meanwhile, Damien is far from happy in such a 'tiny, useless body' and gets into a habit of biting people (if he could speak fully, he would insist he's not teething, he's just defending himself!).

Not sure about the others.

Alfred, meanwhile, has been in a form much closer to his proper fey form recently. He spend a few Earth weeks letting the kids get up to whatever, then popped over and forced a warlock bond. Because of family among other things, it wasn't that hard to do without Bruce's explicit permission, and this way he can keep a better eye on his son. He's rather friendly with Withers, who likes to say that the After has made him soft. At the endgame party though, he shows up, and promptly drops into a more human looking form, although he feels comfortable enough around his family to keep a few otherworldly features.

||=====||=====|| Images ||=====||=====||

Human Alfred is slightly overweight and about 5'9; He has some wrinkles and hair that's peppered with grey; His eyes are a dark hazel; He looks like a standard human elder.

Mildly fey Alfred is a bit skinnier than would be healthy for a human and is roughly 6'5; He has a face of a man several decades younger and his hair has no grey; His eyes are an almost-glowing yellow; With double pointed ears and sharp nails, he looks even less human.

Changeling Bruce (mod) sticking as close to the appearance he knows, with some absurd proficiencies, still not sure how I ended up with such wild profs but it fits him. Starting as a rogue, with noble background of course.

Joker Guardian, Brucie will not be trusting him very much if at all.