#Weird stay-at-home cave grandparent...

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi author how are you doing I hope your doing fine?

I hope you don’t mind can I request a Batfam x Genius child male reader like child male reader is basically smart (and comes from a wealthy and influence family) and has higher IQ for someone so young (smarter than the rest of Batfam) Bruce met child male reader in the funeral when child male reader grandparents died leaving child male reader orphan because his parents also died. Somehow child male reader was strangely attach to Bruce even tho it's there first time meeting so he just walk up to Bruce and stare at him in wonder. Which also leads everyday male reader running away from home and going to Wayne manor because he wanted to stay close to Bruce and meeting the rest of family and which leads the male reader Butler (who's taking care of reader for time being until someone or close relative steps up and takes the role to raise reader) to apologize everytime when picks reader up from the Wayne manor. Reader already knows all the Batfam especially the Justice League secret identity with just one look at them. Male reader who is shy, quite (rarely ever makes a sound) and well mannered. Male reader has a habit of touching the technology of the bat cave or the Justice league base and knows how to fix them aswell

Btw I hope your doing all good author don’t forget to take care of yourself and have a wonderful day🥰🥰🥰😊😊

Oh the little rascal. Also, you take care of yourself too and have a great day or night, whatever time is in your country at the moment. No ideas for gifs anyone... It's pretty though. Also, your beloved author turned 19 on the 5th of May. I do have to say, I have a interesting birthdate.

Summary: (Y/N) is a very smart cookie.

Warnings: funerals, (Y/N) is smart, minor cursing here and there... Some angst, fluff

Bruce sighed quietly as he stood over the graves of Tim's parents. He put the flowers down on their graves. Tim was fighting a flu so he couldn't do it himself and Bruce has offered to do it for Tim. It was their death anniversary and Bruce knew that Tim was just dying in bed from the flu and was dying from feeling guilty of not coming.

Bruce turned his head as he heard church bells. Another funeral. Bruce looked at the church and the procession that has followed it. Two caskets...

Hold up.

He knows that face. The boy was (Y/N) (L/N). Bruce knew that his parents passed when he was truly young and that his grandparents took him when that happened.

It seems that his grandparents passed away too. Bruce met them a few times and they were lovely people and he was told that (Y/N) was a genius, but he didn't know just how much that intelligence reaches. Poor boy.

The procession was slowly passing and Bruce watched from Tim's parents graves. Bruce knew how it felt to lose your parents so young. It's almost like a big piece of you was taken and you will never be able to bring it back, no matter how hard you try.

Bruce looked back down at the graves, trying to keep the attention off of him. He didn't want to disrespect anyone, especially not the dead and besides, it's not about him. Somehow, there aren't any reporters.

Which is a very good thing, but it's a bit weird because like the vultures they are, they can sense when to come in the worst day possible and to use a tragedy for publicity. Thankfully, Bruce put his foot down when it came to his family.

Anything that invades privacy, Bruce would go after them and make sure they don't do that to him. His family didn't have anything to hide. Besides their night job, but that wasn't really illegal... It was something nice to do for the people of Gotham.

Bruce looked up when he felt that someone was watching him. It was (Y/N). He... He didn't want to be rude, but why wasn't he following the procession? Sure, he is young and saying that your parents will be 6ft underground is no easy task, but still...

Wouldn't it be good for him to get a bit of closure at least?

Bruce didn't say anything as (Y/N) simply walked up to him, in silence. Bruce noticed the suit and couldn't help but notice that he almost saw himself in the young boy.

Bruce also noted how (Y/N) watched him in wonder, tilting his head, clearly observing him.

" You are Bruce Wayne... " He said as a matter of fact, trailing off quietly at the end of the sentence.

" I am and you must be (Y/N). How come you aren't with your butler? " Bruce asked as he squatted down to (Y/N)'s level.

" I don't want to be. Too many people. " (Y/N) said and Bruce chuckled.

" I know, but it would mean a lot to him if you stayed with him. " Bruce said, remembering Alfred and his support when his parents died.

Bruce wouldn't have been the same without Alfred and his support.

" I guess so. " (Y/N) said as the the butler approached, a small smile on his face.

" Master (Y/N), what are you doing here? " The butler asked, but politely nodded at Bruce to acknowledge him. Bruce nodded back and (Y/N) huffed.

" It's way too many people. " (Y/N) said, crossing his arms with a pout on his face.

" That means your parents were liked, so come here. You won't be alone. " The butler said and (Y/N) huffed again, but took the butler's hand into his.

" My sincere condolences. " Bruce said and the butler nodded, a sad look on his face.

" Thank you... It was all by surprise. " Butler explained and Bruce nodded.

" Can I ask what they died from? " Bruce asked and the butler nodded.

" Heart attacks. Just in their sleep. " Butler explained and (Y/N) nodded. Death can come at any place, at any time. Death simply takes.

" At least it was in their sleep. " Bruce mumbled and checked on the grave the last time before turning to the duo. " I won't hold you two up anymore. I have to go and again, my condolences. " Bruce said, shaking hands with them both before leaving to his car. He walked to his car and drove off home.

" Master Bruce, master (Y/N) has arrived, yet again. " Alfred said as he walked through the kitchen, busy with making some food for everyone.

Bruce put his newspaper down and look down at the small child who went to the living room and Bruce's boys let out a cheer. Besides Damian who was still skeptic of (Y/N), but was getting there to start trusting slowly.

Then, (Y/N) slowly walked to Bruce, who sipped his coffee slowly, just to make sure to get awake. It was hell during patrol and everyone has gone insane. Just nuts. Probably more than Joker. Which is a feat of its own, but hey. Gotham is just Gotham and everything is possible.

Gotham is a city where everything's possible, but instead of dreams, you get nightmares. According to other people outside of Gotham.

" You are Batman. " (Y/N) said and Bruce spat out his coffee, coughing out the remains, trying not to choke from the said beverage. Heads whipped from the living room, shocked that (Y/N) was able to figure it out.

" I beg your pardon? " Bruce asked, still coughing as he wiped the coffee from his mouth and table. (Y/N) couldn't have done it, could he? How in God's name did he figure it out?

" You are Batman. " (Y/N) stated, so straight forward and blunt in it, making Bruce cough yet again, trying to figure out what to say. Also, to say that he was caught off guard is an understatement of the century. He is always on guard with everyone, besides his sons, and this took him... Well, using Gen Z slang would be 'took him out'.

If he guessed correctly.

" I'm not Batman. " Bruce said, trying to appear normal and not like he was just discovered and that his cover was blown wide open.

" You are. " And (Y/N) started saying how he knew and Bruce was sure he would have passed out if he was a normal human and not a vigilante.

The boys were silent as they watched it all in silence, hoping that Bruce would deter him from that answer. Something. At least something. But with how (Y/N) was talking and explaining... It was clear that they couldn't get out of it. Nothing. They couldn't lie their way out of this one.

Bruce sighed and (Y/N) smiled softly, clearly happy that he guessed.

" Yes. I'm Batman. When did you figure it out? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) smiled cheekily. Bruce smiled softly and thought to himself that (Y/N) was a little cheeky shit.

" When I first saw you. " (Y/N) and Damian, well, even he was impressed. That was... A bit... Holy shit.

" Afraid to interrupt, but master (Y/N)'s guardian is here. " Alfred said as he led the other butler in, who crossed his arms, but there was a fond look in his eyes.

" Master (Y/N), what did we talk about? " The butler asked and (Y/N) simply huffed.

" Come here please. " The butler added and (Y/N) nodded coming into the butler's arms. " Again, I don't know what's going on, but thank you for being patient with him. " Butler said and everyone simply replied with no problem and Jason replied with a cheeky 'kids, am I right.'

(Y/N) was slowly but surely getting way more comfortable. He saw the Batcave and fixed things that bothered everyone a lot and it was something that impressed them and made them pissed. Both at the same time, which is actually impressive.

And no one needed to explain to him how anything worked. That pissed and impressed Tim, who was proud to say that he knows their technology the best. It was just that. Impressive. But infuriating at the same time.

Either way, (Y/N) spent more time at the manor and Alfred and (Y/N)'s butler became good friends, often found venting to one another about the things that 'their billionaires' do that piss them off to no end.

Of course, (Y/N)'s butler didn't know of anyone's secret identities, just to make sure that he was the right person to tell, which is something that isn't easy to see. Sometimes, people hide their true selves and it's funny to decipher them.

Also, (Y/N) both impressed the Justice League by fixing a glitch they had in their system for months that no one was able to fix. Bruce was proud and everyone else impressed and low key jealous.

But either way, (Y/N) was now a staple of the Batfam and his guardian had no qualms about it.

[cow-stealin-gal]

More general ideas

Dream parts [9-13]

[9]

Dear diary, it’s been so long since my last entry about the caves.

I have been writing about other things throughout a month, like the time that I’ve carried a large cake home for my sister’s birthday. I nearly fell many times, but it was delicious.

Oh right, there were a lot of relatives and friends that came over. It was a party for my younger sister’s 15th birthday.

That’s why the cake was large.

Embarrassingly enough, almost everyone knows about how I spent a whole day in the pitch black cave.

Some of my cousins and uncles boast that they could survive for much longer, teasing me for crying during the time I got lost.

My aunts gave me way too much food, telling me that I must’ve been starving for so long. Even if I ate lunch earlier.

One other thing, my room was swarmed with younger relatives and a baby sleeping on my bed.

I couldn’t write anywhere.

But the music was fun, I was dancing a lot, a few girls were dancing with me for some reason.

But I finally managed to find a quiet spot to write this diary entry.

Anyways, I’ve been planning another trip to the cave for one reason.

Some time ago, I’ve had a dream…ok a nightmare….a weird nightmares.

I couldn’t quite remember what it was about but the part that still stayed with me was the sparkling lights that rushed past me, then the wheel.

The different pieces were spinning around until stopped one by one, almost as if I was trying to solve them.

But when I was getting close, the wheel shook and quivered with dust falling everywhere. I felt like I was going to get crushed.

And then I was woken up by my siblings.

“Levántate, Luis”, my older sister said.

Now that my dream was interrupted, I couldn’t remember nor understand what the letters on the wheel said.

Worse still, is that I had to clean the stable. Where the horses were.

Yuck.

The smell was horrendous.

On the bright side, I managed to hide the map from my parents. I uhh…buried it behind the stables.

Oh right!

Speaking of which.

I had to work so many hours getting the money to pay for a new replacement oil lamp because after I broke it during my panicked running spree.

Not to mention that the oil lamp was an expensive tool that my father needed for work.

Which was part of the reason why I was grounded for a month.

The amount of work required to felt like it took forever…

I often came home tired and sore.

My hands have had bumps on the palms, my older sister told me that they were “callousness”.

Whatever they are, they didn’t feel bad. But I often see them when my hands are hurting.

Anyways, I’ve been keeping track of the amount of time I have left before the grounding ends.

It ends in like four days!

I’ll see you soon!

— to be continued -

[10]

Dear diary,

I made a horrible mistake.

Remember the party I mentioned?

Because when I was dragged back into the party because I have to be in the picture, I spotted a blue and white vase.

All I managed to see were blue blob-like shapes on the vase as I am forced to stand next to my sisters for a group photo in fancy clothes.

After the party, I took a closer look at the vase.

It was tall and thin.

The blue blobs were actually flowers painted onto the vase, they were probably as big as my hand.

Based on the assumption, I tried to place my hand as close as I could.

However, a relative of mine immediately stopped me, somewhat harshly telling me about the origin of the vase.

In her words, the vase was crafted by our grandmother when she was 14, but the painter was our grandfather who was 15.

This vase existed for decades, peacefully 'living' with them.

But our grandparents decided to gift my younger sister the pretty vase as a 'blossoming gift'.

I didn't know what it meant.

In my eyes, it was either an antique or a hand-me-down treasure.

But my sister loved it, she hugged them with all her might.

I thought it was boring and went to pick up stick to play with.

That's the backstory, I'm getting butterflies as I'm writing this...

Twos day after my last entry, I was running around chasing my younger sister in a heated game of tag.

I was THIS close to tagging her to the point that I tried to jump over a table and knocked the vase onto the ground.

It made an ear-splitting shatter.

I stared at the pieces in horror, I didn't know nor did I understand how much it mattered to my sister or my mother until I looked back at her gaze.

She had an immense amount of tears streaming down her face, she was trying hard not to choke on her sadness.

Upon the sight of such despair, I couldn't utter a single word.

I was such a shock that I couldn't hear my mother running into the kitchen until she yelled at me to move aside.

I still couldn't utter an word, even after she gasped at the sight of the now shattered vase.

At this point, she began screaming at me.

For five minutes.

Later on, as she picked up the pieces, she began to shed tears as well.

Then when my dad arrived, he also shouted at me.

Then he dragged me into the kitchen where he berated me repeatedly, then he told me.

At the time, I couldn't begin to comprehend what he was telling me.

"If you don't do something for this family, we might as well forget you. Huh? Look at the gift you broke."

"It was made with love. But you, I can't even begin to describe you."

"Starting this morning, you better get a job to pay for the most elegant vase to replace it. OR, make your own vase to replace the one you broke."

Right now, as I'm writing this under the moonlight, , the only words that I'm writing are as follows:

"pinche pendejo"

"burro"

"a mistake"

"a burden"

"burro"

"pinche pendejo"

"forgotten"

"never existed"

"I shouldn't exist"

All that I'm thinking about is the fact that I may never be able to fix this.

We didn’t have a lot of money to spend.

Which makes the mistake I did even worse.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to it better.

Now I have to work and I’m grounded even further.

Why did this even happen?

Why am I so dumb?

Is it because I’m different from the others?

I'm crying right now.

I'll just leave this here.

For now.

- to be continued -

[11]

Dear diary,

I’m exhausted.

It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve had more than enough time to write this passage.

I started my jobless journey running around town looking for someone to hire me.

But I was turned down by five shopkeepers in the town within the first three days.

I honestly wish I didn't know why.

Word had got out that I broke a beloved family vase, which piled on top of their comments about my condition that made me "different from them".

The constant ramblings had drained me immensely to the point that I just had to loaf around the rooftop of the local library with my favorite fantasy series, Grounded in Basalt.

On top of being my favorite past-time, it became the most personal to me because I was granted permission by the librarian, who was one of the few people kind enough to give me a quiet spot with a few books to read.

Anyways, the series is about a young goat-folk who swore to defend their homeland, an island that held a gentle volcano, from the destructive trespassers from far away countries.

I had caught up to the part where the goat is struggling to rally an army to rise up against the oppressors, who wielded large cannons from their ships.

I had taken a break from the book at the time.

I looked around the town, taking in the sight of all the houses and shops that I could see.

But I began to harbor a bleak outlook on the view, "I really don't want to keep searching for jobs", I said.

It's bad enough that people didn't understand me, but the fact that I've overheard gossips about me makes it worse to the point that the shopkeepers actively avoid making eye contact.

The librarian on the other hand had allowed me to volunteer to make a small portion of the paycheck that libraries are able to muster, which wasn't a lot.

That being said, I've also been drawing a few sketches of the wheel...

By that I meant, I drew a circle in the middle with three more circles surrounding it, I then turned the circles into chunky rings by widening the inner circles and adding lines going to the center circle.

To keep myself from getting confused, I drew the lines with the same pattern as wooded planks, no "x" marks.

As for the letters or symbols...I didn't draw them.

I could hardly see them when I first arrived, so i had no chance of drawing a close picture of the gigantic wheel puzzle.

However, I still had this burning question to find out what symbols went on which wheel, so I picked up my books and returned to my volunteer shift.

Three hours went by as I stacked shelves with the books that people returned or left behind, making careful inferences about the correct sections that the books belonged to.

Going from floor to floor, I went through various aisles, skimmed countless labels, and double-checked every book I returned in order to properly return them.

After my hard work was finished, I asked the librarian for any references about strange symbols.

He made a friendly gesture that was akin to thinking hard before he asked if I could elaborate.

At first, I told them of the dream I had with the wheel and explained the rotation of three of the wheels, the glow of the strange symbols, the colors, and the background.

To be honest, I think I was pretty close into telling him that I found the underground wheel from my trip, even when I said that it was dream.

They nodded with a warm smile and told me that they may have a book about ancient symbols that were "dated" to be about hundreds of years old.

They sound beyond old.

I will stop here for now.

-to be continued-

[12]

Dear diary,

Last time we spoke was five days ago, where I managed to land a job...seven blocks away from the town entrance.

It's soooo long.

For starters, I landed a job in a small grocery store, where I cleaned the floor, put away vegetables (or produce I think), and carried crates to and fro the trucks.

It was way more exhausting than the comments that I've received.

I also can't help that the owner had only let me work for him because of a selfish reason.

There were other people working for him every day.

They were more taller, sweatier, meaner, and most of all, they told me to pick up the pace every time I was trying to understand how to do things.

They've tried telling me to ask the boss for a pay raise, but I've ignored them ever since I saw their faces turn to laughter as I turned around in confusion from my first attempt.

Speaking of which, when I first asked him, he scoffed at me and told me, "kid, do your fuckin job first."

After that, I've been following their orders with silent disdain for them, thinking to myself, 'I care not for them, I care not for them".

After I finished my weekly shift, I was handed a letter by the boss.

"That's your pay, do what you want with it" he muttered.

That was it, a plain letter with a red circle.

As I left the store, I kept an eye on the co-workers to make sure that they didn't do anything.

Once I got onto the street, I held the letter with my hands close to my chest as I made my way through the crowded street.

As I bumped around the people, I felt some eyes following me, so I ran laps around the block to shake the feeling.

I looked around the block and decided to run to a walking guard to keep them from attacking me.

I looked up at the muscular man in silver armor and asked them if they could take me to the exit.

"Beat it, kid," they said at first.

But I told them that I feel like I was being followed.

He looked around, then gave a long sigh.

"I don't see anyone," he spoke with a slight frustration.

From a last ditch effort, I showed them the letter.

Upon seeing the letter, they let out another long sigh, then told me to follow them.

The short trip was tense to say the least, but the guard kept people from stealing money from me.

Overall, I got home to count my money.

And I found out that I was given....$60 [in fantasy money ].

I jumped around with my newfound money, because it felt like a lot.

I ran to my parents, saying that I got $60.

I must've had so much joy in my eyes because what they said next deflated my entire view.

"Ok, you made money. Still not enough to fix the vase."

I went back to my room to sulk.

That's it.

[13]

Dear diary,

I'm so mad.

I'm furious.

I WANNA SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS.

Here's what happened;

After another long week of cleaning, carrying crates, and putting away stuff to sell, people are STILL not easing up on my mistake.

Customers were on my back about precious vases, my co-workers made jokes about family honor, and my boss still scoffs at me.

Day after day, the comments began to drive me mad, I nearly punched another worker about their distasteful comments.

But on one particular day, I overheard another co-worker talk about how much they've been to afford just from three weeks.

I looked at my letter in my left hand and felt the chunkiness of the bills inside the letter as I walked around and daydreamed about the number of things I could buy.

But as I carried my letter of money through the busy street with ideas of glamour, a group of teens surrounded me to get their hands on my letter. My money. My hopes.

This whole thing snuffed out all of the ideas I had, haunting my mind even now.

It started like this:

"Whatya got there?" a boy with a green hat asked.

"a letter" I said.

"We know you have a letter, stupid. But what's inside?" the same boy asked.

"Nothing." I said.

I figured that they were ones following me and tried to steal it earlier.

Of course I wasn't going to give it, so I tried to walk away.

But one guy put their hands on my chest, saying, "where are you go-"

I immediately punched their face.

Shocked at my own fist, I looked at the other boy...

Their nose had begun to bleed, where the blood began to trickle onto to their lips.

And then I ran like hell, shoving him as he tried to grab me.

But the others grabbed onto my arms.

As two boys tried to pull the letter from my hand, the other two began punching and kicking.

AS I FELT MY GRIP SLOWLY BEGIN TO LOOSEN, I REELED MY ARM WITH THE LETTER AND CHOMPED ON THEIR FINGERS.

"OOOOWWWW!!!" they screamed.

Once they immediately let go from shock, I ran like hell.

Even before my trip to the caves, I didn't have too much trouble running for a long time. But with the kicking and punching, I ran with less speed than before.

Still, I ran around the bustling street, brushing past ladies and gentlemen, some of which nearly knocked me over, all in a desperate search for a guard.

But as soon as I found one, he took one look at me and immediately scowled at me.

'Beat it" he yelled.

I stared at him in disbelief, I was aching, I had a letter with a circle, and he's still telling me to get lost?

So I trudged back to the exit where the guards took one look at me and gave me a towel.

I stared into their eyes for a solid moment.

All that I could say was a muttering 'thank you'.

After the walk of pain, I was greeted by half-pity and some relative care for my stomachaches.

I've told to them how it went and they went, 'ok, then fight better.' my dad retorted.

"Fight better? Why do I need to fight better? Why do they go after me for money that's not theirs?" I said.

"Look, you got money. They don't. They want your money because you just have it in your hands." He said.

"But I don't have a bag" I said.

My dad got up with an angry sigh, walked to their bedroom and then came out with a bag.

"Now you have one" he announced.

After this, I've tried talking with my younger sister...who simply told me that she hated me.

I hate this day.

-to be continued -

[forjustice]

Hoenn's Indigenous peoples, as non-Westerners and specifically Asians, have different ideas of living at home with one's family than Westerners do. Whereas a lot of IRL white American families make their kids pay rent the moment they turn 18 and all kids are expected to move out eventually, Hoennese families often stay together all the way back to the generation of great- or even great-great-grandparents. (Asians I've seen living with grandparents mostly, but Hoennese peoples are supernaturally long-lived, so they'll congregate in much larger generational chains.)

My Hoenn muses definitely practice this--living all together in the same place--because they're either all found family or related to each other through marriage and they applied these principles accordingly. Asteria and Zinnia are blood sisters and Azalea is Asteria's girlfriend; Brendan and May are blood siblings as well. Asteria is also in-laws with Wallace and Steven due to them being in a polycule with Zinnia. Archie and Maxie, as the oldest ones in the living arrangement and also the two gods present, are the heads of the household, but they're also like uncles--Archie being the cool one and Maxie being the weird one--which is fitting because Wallace is Archie's nephew.

Together, they all share three large homes: one in Ever Grande, one in Sootopolis, and one in the suburbs of Lilycove City. The Ever Grande home is the "work" house, because it is closest to the Pokémon League. In each one, Wallace and Steven share a room, Archie and Maxie share a room, Asteria and Azalea share a room, and Brendan and May share a bunk bed room like when they were kids; everyone else has a separate room. The Sootopolis home is used when they need to carry out spiritual duties, since it is the location of the Cave of Origin. And finally, the Lilycove City home is Contest Central. For Hoennese people, Contests are a huge part of their culture, to the point that everyone in touch with their traditions knows how to do Contests at least passably--and when you've got the likes of Wallace and May in your found family, it's no wonder that Contests are a huge priority!

[cheemken]

Some more body swap au stuff bc the angst for this is dope hahah

Abt Cynthia this time cans y'all believe it hahaha

Anyways

So while drawing I was thinking of notes to add for more info and such, and then I got to Cynthia and Wallace and like, man

Cynthia being grateful that Wallace has long hair so she can still hide her left eye. It's odd for her. She's not used being able to see w her left eye again, then again, it's Wallace's body. His body was healthier, sturdier, he wasn't blind on one eye, he didn't have scars on his face. And it was,, she wasn't used to it yknow, she wasn't used to not feeling phantom pains or any kind of pain really, she wasn't used to actually having good eyesight anymore. Like, looking in the mirror, she sees everything; she sees how flawless Wallace skin is, sees how well maintained his hair was, could feel how soft it was, his body was built, and that was to be expected really as he's juggling three jobs he has to keep fit. It was weird for Cynthia, but old habits die hard as they say, and she brushed her? His? Hair to the left side, covering her left eye, she thinks she doesn't deserve to see w her left eye again.

But then, it's tempting yknow, for once she felt like her body doesn't have to force her to rest, she feels great really hahah. So she finally got dressed, she remembered she has to take care of Lisia. Oh no, she doesn't know how to cook. God that's embarrassing, she always relied on her grandparents' cooking until now, and she did try cooking once but ah, well, let's just say the Celestic Fire Dept had to rush to their home

Shit well, she has to try at least, eggs and bacon are easy to make, even Diantha can make those! And Dia is one of the shittiest cooks within their group

So she tried, really tried.

"uhm.. uncle, is everything alright? You're kinda burning them"

"ah, yeah, I'm sorry! I'm just.. really not feeling that well, if I'm being honest."

"oh, why didn't you just say so? I'll cook for us! You just rest up!"

Cyn was having real ass mixed feelings cause for once, wow Wallace really was a good uncle he taught his niece how to cook, and she was doing great! And on the other hand, wow a child is a better cook than her. They had breakfast, w Cynthia trying to strike up conversation, asking Lisia what she's gonna do, who she's gonna be w, smth her grandparents always ask her and her sister whenever they went out when they were younger. Maybe Wallace would ask the same too. And it seems she was right, for Lisia it was a normal conversation over breakfast, she answered all the questions, even shared some stuff abt her last performance, and Cynthia made comments she thought Wallace would say.

Once that's done, Lisia got ready for her own stuff too, telling Cynthia to just stay home, "just call me if you need anything, uncle! I'll just get some pain relievers when I get home!"

"of course, thank you, you stay safe okay?"

"I will!"

When Lisia finally left, Cynthia rushed back to Wallace's room, looking for his phone or for his pokenav. Maybe Steven was okay, maybe he can help her. When she found it, she scrolled through his contacts, finding Steven's name, and she pressed call.

Two rings, then three, finally Steven answered.

"what?"

That.. Steven doesn't answer like that

"Steven?"

"what are you talking about? It's me, Lance! Wallace, is this you?"

"no, it's Cynthia!"

"...what?"

Cynthia groaned, of all the people Steven could've swapped bodies w, the gods decided to swap him w Lance?? She's starting to believe this was some sort of karma, especially after Lance was starting to ramble on too, going on how he doesn't know where he is, in some kind of cave maybe. Cynthia sighed, telling him to just stay there, she'll get him, and maybe they can figure out what's really going on. Arceus grant her the patience, today was gonna be a long day.

[combodactyl]

"Man I shouldn't have taken that detour, I know this place like the back of my hand, why is that tree so weird looking. They cackle making fun of your predicament. Your trip home was going so well but they are at fault. What did your grandparents say again, something about your shirt? Nah that would be dumb. You gaze upon the balete tree it rustles to life. Three of the creatures jump out laughing in all to familiar voice. You're stuck here with them.... forever"

And that's supposed Day 4. This monster is based on the Phillipine legend of the Tikbalang a monster that gets you lost. For our next post we travel back to Africa into an unknown cave. Anyway until my next post stay safe as we wander our way into the next #inktober monster.

[goddamnitlady]

Notes to self: past, change, and most probable route of  future development. [JiraOro thread]

Orochimaru is now going through a shift in thinking in the JiraOro roleplay story. I need to type it out for me to understand it. No need to read it. 

No but seriously, Nikki, I'll put it under a readmore and let you choose whether to read it or not. I mostly fear that you'll sit back and think "okay so this is probably the best guess on how it will end" and then we will neveeeer write the two agaaaiiin. ;A;

Fears aside... If you read it, do leave a comment for my effort, as I started writing this halfway the football match and finish it only now. I think myself clever for having been able to put it into words. 

The situation at the start of this OroJira story  Orochimaru is convinced he does not have any goodness left in him any more. He thinks he has lost everyone and everything. He's like Sasuke. He’s in darkness. So deep, that he is beyond saving. He aims with is bad actions ("someone has to do the dirty work") to give children better lives in a better world than had been offered to him. ”Results justify the means,” he said.       This 'calling', to make a better peaceful world for the next generation, is in his mind the only good aspect about him. Fulfilling role of 'fixer' is how he can live with himself. Take these good intentions away, and their absence will expose he's just monster. That he’s the same type of monster as the villains who hurt him as a child. So he clings to this role. “I’m different. I’m doing these horrible things for the greater good.” He fills himself with self-deception, because deep down he knows he is wrong.

Telling him he's awful, and why he’s awful, make Orochimaru go either... 1) smirking arrogant because it means he's successfully changing the world.  2) trying to convince you he IS doing the right thing. This is akin to "LALALA I CANT HEAR YOU. I HAVE MY HANDS OVER MY EARS. I'M A GOOD PERSON LA LA LA." Orochimaru is so lost, that he can't be reached.

A big danger: at once acknowledging the immense scope and amount of wrong he did in his life, will utterly destroy his heart. It will destroy his sanity. So he doesn't acknowledge it. He only acknowledges the surface -- that he has no chance at redemption. 

No redemption? He's doubting that now. This doubt is sparked by the training process. The training shows that no matter how bad Orochimaru is, Jiraiya will always call him out on it, and tell him to be behave. He appeals to an inherent good nature in Orochimaru's. He has a firm believe in that inherent goodness.

That's so novel.

Like... “What does Jiraiya see in me? Is he right?? I want him to be right!!!!! Sure, there are punishments. But those can be suffered through. And they pass. And then there's the orgasm reward... :))) .”

He loves the rewards. He loves feeling good. He loves being loved. He loves being called 'Good boy'. He likes 'Good', because it makes him feel forgiven, and 'boy', because youth was before his sins. His eternal obsession with youth, eh?

This training gives him a break from his exhausting sin-denying. This training proves that not all that he touches crumbles/rots/dies, but that he can make a person happy. He enjoys serving for the sake of giving away attention and love and spoiling Jiraiya. This shared happiness gives him hope. Hope, that they can connect because somewhere deep down there IS good in him.

This brings me to how powerfully Orochimaru loves Jiraiya. Jira (bitterly?) believes there is hope for Orochimaru. That belief makes every piece of Orochimaru’s world-making wobble. Orochimaru’s previously rock-hard convictions become unsteady.      Jiraiya is the one he trusts most in his life, more than even Kabuto. He now trusts Jiraiya more than he trusts himself. Jiraiya is often right. Orochimaru now distrusts his own decision-making. He now distrusts his own mind. But he relies on his friend. “If Jiraiya thinks there’s hope, it must be true, right?”

He likes to think it could be true. 

Nikki, remember that meme? That silly meme where I had to fill in stars for Orochimaru’s romantic/platonic/sexual feelings to a muse... and when you messaged me Jiraiya's name, all the options were maxed out to ten stars? xD

He LOVES Jiraiya. 

He loves how good Jiraiya can make him feel, both physically and spiritually. He enjoys the safety, friendship, banter, homeliness, attraction, powerlessness, humour, being useful, because Jiraiya doesn’t back down he feels like he’s found back his equal. His other half. He feels loved. 

At the start of the story Orochimaru intended to make Jiraiya part of his dark world by trying to convince Jiraiya that the “end justifies the means”. That attempt failed SPECTACULARLY.

To keep Jiraiya from leaving him, Orochimaru set out try to change himself to become part of Jiraiya's world. First stop was his (mutually agreed upon) physical submission. Orochimaru is changing his behaviour. But Jiraiya won’t stay if it’s just sex, because it cannot be “just sex” between them. There’s too much history. 

Now Orochimaru has begun mentally submitting, too. Not being allowed to speak and not being able to think because he feels so good, has been a powerful agent of mental change.      This is where the big shift is happening now that I need to get down in text.      Orochimaru begun to acknowledge (in those muse&mun converstions) that he cannot bear to keep Jiraiya around if Jiraiya isn't happy. Nikki, this feeling is escalating to a degree I had never dared to predict.       Jiraiya's happiness is now the most important thing to him in the entire world. It’s vital. Sex might feel nice but it doesn’t heal an aching heart. Keeping Jiraiya captive by force (as was the very first plan) is out of the question. Awful! How could he have ever thought up such a horrible scheme! Orochimaru has already begun to rely on Jiraiya’s judgement more than his own. The way to keep Jira... and to make him happy... is to become good. It’s the only way. He now knows this. He’s preparing for this. 

Orochimaru MUST change. 

The Talk: gaining insight in the consequences of his past actions.  This talk will happen at SOME point, probably. In this talk he needs to learn what damage he has done so he know what to NEVER do again. 

He first has to acknowledge he has hurt Jiraiya immensely. 

He must listen to his thoughts.

Acknowledge his pain respectfully. 

Learn what harm he did to Jiraiya. 

And only when Orochimaru understands the full scope of his actions, he can try to give Jiraiya some peace and tranquillity. 

This talk is not for him. This talk will be for Jiraiya. (Because I’m super duper interested in your Jiraiya’s coping mechanisms and his pain and his making-sense-of-the-world). (And because I love hurt/comfort. Let my muse give comfort. It will be a ‘fix the canon’ thread!) (No one can dish out pain like you do so I dread this thread too. Never anger a calm man, is a saying. A tumblr roleplay saying should be, Never ask angst from the Fluff/Smut Queen.)(But I’m dumb). 

He loves Jiraiya. He doesn’t want him to hurt. Doesn’t want him to hurt in Orochimaru’s presence or absence or anytime at all. Jiraiya’s happiness is more important than his own. 

Hearing about Jiraiya’s pain is going to hurt him as fuck, but it will be a manageable size. It is 'merely' the severe damage he has done to his most important friend. This talk in my replies won't be about Orochimaru's hurt, not about Orochimaru’s traumas, and won't be about the unphantomable damage Orochimaru did to the entire world (which would destroy him). This talk will be bite-sized (but he’ll still almost choke on it) aims to give katharsis/resolution. 

Failing this talk, means that he's going to need to let Jiraiya (or the loved one) go. Their happiness is more important than his own. (I've encountered this version of events with Sasukes and Anko and an OC.) 

Succeeding this talk, meaning if he can give Jiraiya some form of solace. This interaction will fulfil the same function as Orochimaru (in canon) giving Sasuke solace by summoning the Hokages. This person whom he loves and is the first one he can connect to, will become his moral compass. He will become devoted to them. He won't ask for forgiveness. He will only ask if they're happier now. 

Let's suppose they touched hearts, then how will that change him? Lovingly supporting this one person he hurt before, by now doing good, so the Precious One is happy, gives off a feeling of success. Actual /warmth/ in his chest, no self-deception. This spark of warmth will catch onto his rotten heart and become a tiny flame of light in his chest. This successful attempt will give him back his faith in his ability to do good for the sake of goodness (instead of evil for the sake of goodness). 

He will want repeat his successful experience by helping more people reach happiness the right way. With this special person by his side (Jiraiya/Sasuke), Orochimaru can now actively try to acknowledge bigger and bigger chunks of his past misdeeds. And bravely begin working to correct them. 

Suddenly he is already halfway on the path back to the light.

If Orochimaru has loved one to walk beside him on that path... (a person who Orochimaru can give his brand of intense spiritual and physical love, a person who shuts down villainous behaviour as soon as he suggests it, and for whom Orochimaru can be a caring support ideal housewife) ... then Orochimaru too may just finish the path all the way out of the Darkness and back to the Light.

The Enemy of the World, now turned gentle.

That would be nice... I think.

......

Thoughts?

[gucciwins]

The First Kiss

Harry and Y/N go on their first date...will they finally become something more?

Word count: 4814

A/N: I know how much you all love breakout room and the follow up it's your birthday. I love writing them and it's been a while but do know they are doing well. this is nothing but sweet fluff. I do mention the vaccine and wearing masks which I hope you all are doing. it's important to stay safe and truly wish nothing but the best for you all. I love you xxx

please reblog and let me know your thoughts

_____

“Are you feeling good? I sent over a goodie basket.”

Harry giggled, loving how concerned you were. “I’m doing good, baby.” He sees you tuck your head into your sweater smiling, when he notices it’s the one he sent you in a goodie basket after you got your second shot of the vaccine.

It’s spring break, and Harry can finally say he is officially vaccinated after letting the mandated two weeks pass. It’s perfect timing, honestly, as he has been itching to finally see you in person again.

Your university let you know that they would begin to have vaccine dates open to students through an email that you quickly forwarded to Harry. You had to register to get a date for your first vaccine, and slots were filling up fast. You shot Harry multiple texts telling him what day you got and time, but you went without an answer for an hour which is weird, seeing as Harry never liked to leave you waiting more than five minutes.

By the time he got back to you, he had to wait two weeks, unlike you, who would be getting in only three days. You asked why he didn’t answer, and he said he was in class. You frowned because even then, he always answered. He then confessed he lost his phone in his apartment and didn’t have time to search for it.

You laughed about it, but he was disappointed because he wanted to see you. To give you a hug. To hold your hand.

After spending his birthday together, you both decided against meeting in person for safety even though you both wanted to, more than anything. You postponed your date to the future. Instead, you completed the group assignment through zoom meetings that led to facetime calls. After submitting the project and learning that you aced the assignment, well, you both caved in.

Harry gushed on how he always got B’s on the professor’s assignments, and to celebrate, he sent you a dozen cupcakes from the bakery that you never stop raving about located only three blocks from where you live. Then proceeded to call him over to celebrate and who was he to say no. Harry was shocked at how rich and full of flavor they were because he wasn’t aware it was vegan. Yet, it tasted better than anything he ever had. Harry realized why it was your favorite, promising to take you there in person to have your pick of favorites and not only red velvet and carrot cake because they were safe choices.

You couldn’t say you’ve been on a proper date with Harry, but you’d like to count all the zoom calls and facetime calls as dates not that you let Harry know it would only inflate his ego. You’d start a call to ask a question on assignments, and it would lead to sharing stories back and forth of what their favorite book was to where they would visit if they could go that very second. You loved how insightful he was, also liked how he used pastel highlighters to mark his annotations. Harry was a fan of how you always had a pencil in your hair or behind your ear. How you always had a snack on hand because you didn’t want to listen to professors without something to eat or you’d lose focus.

You were glad you’d be able to get together safely but also taking all the needed precautions. Safety is hot, as Harry liked to say all the time when you sent him photos of you wearing your masks.

“Yeah, like the basket?”

Harry grins, but it’s not as bright due to the lacking pixels of your laptop. He holds it up, having placed it in his lap. “I did love the bath bombs.”

You smile back at him, “Going to change your life. Self-care is important, bub. Even in the smallest ways as a bath.”

Harry nods, “I know, baby. The reason I remember to take deep breaths each morning, no longer eager to reach for my phone.”

“Proud of you.”

“And I of you, baby.”

Harry shines his dimples at you when you turn your head away at the sweet name he started calling you a few weeks ago. You adored it, honestly, but it always left you feeling flustered.

“H, please.”

“Baby, I like seeing you flustered.”

“You’re a menace.”

He shrugs, still giggling.

“How are Mitch and Sarah?”

“Wonderful, sickly in love as always. Spend their time at Sarah’s like composing together.”

“That’s sweet.” You lean in, smiling at him, “you know we should all hang out together. I get to meet Mitch properly and see Sarah again, and you’ll get to meet Amy.” You grow excited at the thought.

“Not before I get to see you.”

“H, we got to coordinate a day that works for all of us. No need to get jealous.”

“Not jealous.”

“Sure,” you reply sarcastically.

“Got to learn to share me with Amy. I cook her lunch and dinner; otherwise, she’d be nothing but a walking cadaver.”

“I want you to make me lunch and dinner,” he pouts.

“I can now that you’ve vaxxed.”

“That I am, so you are.”

“Yes,” you’re waiting for him to go on.

“Will you go on a date with me? Think we waited long enough, and if my feelings weren’t obvious enough, I like you and really want to take you out.” he rambles on.

You interrupt him knowing fully well he could go on for days, “I’d love to, Harry.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Great. Friday then.”

“I’m free.”

“I know, know your schedule by heart.”

“Creep,” you gasp at the news.

“Shush, like you don’t have my classes added to your planner.” Your turn to pout.

“I like knowing your schedule, and they overlap.”

“I do too. Look forward to your messages every day between classes.”

“So Friday? What are you planning?”

“A picnic.”

You jump up in excitement, causing your laptop to fall back on your bed before you dive to save it. Harry yelling dramatically in the background as if you just dropped him.

“H, be quiet. You’re fine.”

“Dropped me, darling.”

“Dork.”

He mutters something in return, but you can’t hear him.

“So I’ll prepare lunch because you’ve told me once or twice that you’re hopeless in the kitchen.” Harry doesn’t even try to fight you because it’s true. “You’ll take care of drinks and desserts.”

“Seems like you’re planning the date,” he teases.

“I like picnics.”

“Well, I like you, so I’ll let you take over.”

Your smile turns soft, reaching your hand out as if you could reach in and caress him. “I like you, too. I can’t wait to give you a hug.”

“Counting down the hours.”

“Alright, you have class in ten, and you always struggle to log in.”

“Making me hang up. Not fair.” Harry frowns, debating skipping class for you.

“Don’t think about it, Styles.”

“Fine. Take care, baby.”

“Bye, H.”

A date.

You have a date with Harry.

Finally, it happened.

_____

You were nervous.

Why were you nervous? It was just Harry.

Harry, who wanted to date you from your first meeting, who emailed you asking you out, and who has not stopped talking to you since February. Constantly reminding you of his feelings for you. You hope he knew you felt the same, in texts and sending him little gifts even as small as writing him a letter.

You got up early today to prepare lunch. You decided on sandwiches, a non-messy meal, and Harry always said he wanted to try the bakery bread you use and not the basic store-bought. It was a bit pricey but not as much anymore because you had become a regular, meaning the sweet owner began giving you a discount, especially when finding out you're a student. Still, you always remember to leave a good tip. The turkey sandwiches were finished with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Looked so good that Amy had one as you were making them. You made three and packed them up in your glass reusable containers.

Staring at the sandwiches, it felt like too little food when Harry had told you many times how much he enjoys eating, so you cleaned up and got to make a second meal. You decided on vegetable rice paper rolls. A favorite and easy meal to make that you enjoyed eating. It was packed with lettuce, avocado, cabbage, bell peppers, cucumbers, noodles, and fresh herbs. This was a meal your dad made you all the time as a child with the special slightly spicy peanut sauce that you could drizzle on top.

Harry was going to enjoy this, so you hoped. He promised to make strawberry lemonade. Assured you that it would not be store-bought, and you believed him. During one of your late conversations, he shared how his sister would make him some when she returned from uni. Reminds him of home, he would say.

After packing everything away in the fridge to keep it cool it was time to get ready. You stood in front of your closet for a good five minutes before you began to swipe through the hangers. You knew you wanted to wear a dress; it was warm weather and would only get hotter as the day went on.

You searched your entire closet, there were three options once you had decided on, but you called Amy in to make the final decison for you. She decided on the one sitting in the middle of your bed, which was exactly what you were thinking.

The dress was a white button-front high slit that fit you nicely. You hadn't used it in quite some time, seeing as when you left your apartment, it would be in leggings, sweats, and the first sweater you could slip on.

You couldn't stop looking in the mirror, loving how it flowed around you when you twirled. For accessories, you slipped on a gold ring that had a little heart on it and another that was a gift shaped like a small snake as it was going to scale down your finger. A simple heart locket gifted to you by your grandparents hung right above your cleavage. You decided to leave your hair natural, liking how it air-dried after the shower you had that morning.

There was no makeup on your face, just your favorite rosebud salve lip balm that left your lips soft. Amy insisted you put some on, but you stood firm in your decision, knowing you'd be wearing a mask and didn't want anything smudging.

You looked down at the time on your phone and knew it was time to head down, Harry said twelve, and you didn't want to make him come up to your apartment only to walk down the three levels again. You grabbed the picnic basket that was sitting in the back of yours and Amy's shared doorway closet and made sure to place everything neatly, leaving room for Harry's drink and stashing a bunch of napkins in for any accidents. Basket prepared, you slipped your sunglasses in your hair, placing your lavender tote bag with tiny embroidered daisies on your shoulder that contained sunscreen, your wallet, extra face masks, and a book Harry had told he had wanted to read.

Before opening your door, you put on the white mask that you embroidered sunflowers on. It was one of your favorites, and glad it complimented your look well. You walked down the stairs slowly, not wanting to drop the basket.

You walk out the front door and find Harry getting out of the yellow mask on his face. As you get closer, you can see it's the one you made him. It has bees on it, and embroidered on the left side is 'my honey.' Harry had turned quite pink when he opened the gift he got in the mail over facetime with her. You happily screenshot his reaction, happy to have it to look back on.

As soon as you reach him, it's as if all the nerves you had disappeared. Calm washes over you as he comes to stand in front of you. You can't see the smile he has, but the crinkles by his eyes prove he's just as happy to see you.

"Hi, Harry," you say, your eyes taking him all in.

Harry doesn't hide, he's checking you out, and you're thankful for the mask at the moment, able to hide how bashful you're feeling. "Hello, baby. You look gorgeous. I'm a lucky man."

"Yeah," you swayed side to side, "gave me a reason to dress up."

"Always beautiful, but I'm so glad to see more than just your shoulders." He laughs, and you join him.

"Look pretty, H. I had not seen this cardigan." You reach out, running a finger down over the pastel yellow cardigan that looks to be well-loved. He paired it with a plain white shirt that fits him loosely with Gucci denim trousers that he told you he found a few years ago when he was thrift shopping in London with his mother.

"No, brought it out just for you. Wanted it to match my favorite mask." Although he couldn't see it, you hoped your eyes were doing their job expressing your joy. "Let's put this basket in the trunk. Got a blanket and a few pillows as well as the lemonade."

"And the dessert?"

He chuckles, "and the dessert."

You place everything in the trunk, taking a step back for Harry to close it. He walks you over to your door, opening it for you, you offer a soft thank you, but before you get in, you turn to look at him.

"What is it, baby?"

You stare down at your ribbon-tied wedges before looking up into his piercing green eyes. "Can I have a hug? I just--I'm really happy to see you."

Harry falters for a second before answering, "of course, come here." He's quick to bring you in for a hug, and it feels like home. It's comfortable, and you can't believe you haven't hugged him since February, a good two months ago, when it has honestly felt like a lifetime. "I would have earlier, but when you came out, you truly shocked me with how amazing you looked."

You just hug him tighter, enjoying feeling his strong arms around you. He looks at you smiling. "That was nice." You nod because it was, and if he'd let you, you'd stay in his arms all day.

"Well, shall we go?"

"We shall."

And with that, you were off to your first date with Harry, which would hopefully lead to more.

_____

The drive to the park was short; you unloaded everything from the car once you got there. Harry offers to carry the basket, letting you lead to picking the spot. You walked ahead, glad he brought you to a park you recognized; it's one you liked to walk around during finals week when you were drowning in essays and exams. This was a nice break. On the other side of the park is a lake where you can rent pedal boats, but you were sure they hadn't opened up for business just yet, wanting more of the population to be vaccinated.

You led him to a secluded area laughing when he joked if you were leading him to his murder. Once you reached the clearing, one large tree with lots of shade and a few rose bushes surrounded it.

"It's beautiful here." Harry awed in amazement.

"Yeah, I found it my first year when I was trying to destress; I don't think many people know about it because it's not on the maps."

"Lucky us."

Harry grabs one end of the blanket, helping you spread it on the grass. You set your tote bag on one corner as well as setting down the pillows. As you make your way to sit down, Harry gently grabs your elbow, causing you to turn and look at him; he's holding a bouquet of tulips.

You felt your eyes well up with tears, not used to such a kind gesture; it's been a long time since you've been on a date with someone you really care about, "You got me tulips, H."

You reach forward and cradle them in your arms. "Course I did; I think you deserve all the beautiful things life has to offer."

You set the flowers on top of the basket before straightening up and pulling Harry into a hug. Your arms around his neck, his resting tightly around your waist, "including you," you whisper in his ear, causing him to squeeze you a bit tighter. Harry pulls back, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Let's eat, baby. Know you made something delicious for us to enjoy."

Harry set the food out, and you are sure to hand him the wet wipes to clean your hand before you could begin wanting to be clean and not wanting to venture out to find a restroom. He eyed the sandwiches first, then the veggie rice paper rolls.

"Couldn't decide?"

"Wasn't sure what you'd like. So I gave you two options."

"Too sweet angel." Harry leans in to kiss her cheek.

"Think we ought to take off the mask now." You giggle, sad you didn't get to feel his lips on your cheek.

"Yeah, so comfortable it doesn't really bother me wearing them. I am hungry."

You place your mask in your bag, and Harry puts his mask in his pocket. He opens up both containers and digs into the veggie rolls first. He hums after the first bite, chewing happily. "Delicious," he mutters between chews.

"Can add this peanut sauce to give it more flavor, just a tad bit spicy." He watches you as you pick up and spoon drizzle a bit on top, taking a bite. Harry follows your steps taking another bite, and his eyes go wide at the added flavor.

"Shocked, I've lived all my life without this food."

You laugh, "well, now you don't have to."

He chews happily at your response.

_____

Lunch is filled with little conversation, both praising each other for a well-planned meal. The strawberry lemonade complimenting the food perfectly. He brought a raspberry lemon loaf cake for dessert, and you happily admit you ate two pieces. It tasted so heavily, making Harry promise you to buy more in the future for you. He agreed, stating he'd do anything to make you happy.

"It's nice going out with someone, enjoying the sweet fresh air." Harry comments.

You hum in agreement, "I adore my alone time, but with the right company, it can feel just as perfect."

Harry's cheek turns rosy pink quickly, not at all trying to hide from you. You love that he loves to show how much you affect him.

"It feels normal like we've done this hundred of times already.”

You chuckle, nudging his shoulder. "It's cause we have. Just never called any of them dates."

"So you agree, we've been dating since February," he teases.

"Yeah, I think we can say that."

"When was our first zoom call?"

"Hmm...after class a week after your birthday. Think we worked for an hour and talked about nothing for another."

You look over at Harry loving how the sun reflects off his skin; it makes him look like a gift from the Gods. Harry feels your gaze on him, flashing you a big grin, his dimples on display just for you, because of you.

"We will call February eighth our anniversary," he declares.

You laugh, not a silent one but a full-out belly gripping laugh; you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Harry sits there confused, not sure where the joke was.

"You alright, baby?" He asks, just a bit concerned.

"That is what you were thinking so hard about; you couldn't figure out a week from your birthday quickly. Took you a good few minutes." You shake your head, trying to catch your breath, tiny giggles still escaping you.

"Oi, no need to be rude."

"Sorry, honey."

"Never claimed to be smart."

"The pretty ones never are," you tease.

"Alright, that's it. I've had enough."

Before you can stop him, he's on top of you, his fingers tickling you from your sides to your thighs. He knows your body getting all your secret spots that make you squirm away from. You almost succeeded in getting one of his hands over your head, but he surprises you by straddling you. You've stopped laughing, but Harry keeps going.

His curls are falling over his head, his eyes shining bright, a new lightness to them. At that moment, you realize how lucky you are, and before you know it, you reach your free hand up and place it on the back of his neck, bringing him down to your lips catching him by surprise.

Harry stays frozen for a second before sinking into the kiss, responding softly, wanting to explore you as he'd been thinking about this moment for months. You love the feel of his lips against yours; you'd happily give up breathing, never wanting to part. Harry tries to pull away, but you chase his mouth, not ready to stop kissing. He smiles against your lips, humming when he places a hand on your cheek, adding more pressure; you're not sure who lets out a moan letting it out into the universe wishing for more, hoping for forever.

You don't get butterflies or fireworks. Instead, you feel the ease of calmness wash over you like when you arrive home after a long day. That's what kissing Harry is like coming home.

You pull back, laying your head on the pillow Harry was wise to bring; you don't try to contain your smile as Harry stares down at you in a look of awe. You run your thumb over his bottom lip-loving how swollen they look thanks to you. His eyes never leave yours; you gasp as he places a kiss on your thumb before taking it in his mouth, sucking it gently; a moan escapes you, surprised at how hot the teasing is getting you.

"You're filthy, honey."

Harry smirks, "just for you, baby."

"Only our first date, H. We aren't going to move fast."

"A makeout isn't too fast for you," he teases.

"Felt just right." You smile, loving the feeling of his weight on top of you as he has not moved from his position, still straddling you.

"I agree."

"Sorry, I didn't ask if I could kiss you. Consent is sexy."

Harry's smile is soft, his eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, "You hereby have permission to kiss me whenever you please, my love."

"You know all the right things to say to make me puny for you."

"Good to know. Got to keep a mental list."

"What's on there so far?"

Harry smirks, leaning down his mouth right over your mouth; you remember the taste of lemon you felt when you kissed him, and well, you don't try to stop yourself when you attach your lips against his. There's no sweeter feeling, you've decided.

He pulls back, keeping the kiss short, "Know you can't be close to me without giving me a kiss. Know your heart is racing like it might beat out of your chest, and I know you're dying to ask me to be your boyfriend."

"Guess you are smart," you whisper.

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours, humming as he places a kiss on the top of your nose.

"You know, I was right."

"Yeah, about what, H?" You reach your hand up to run your hand through his curls, brushing them back, giggling as they fall forward again.

"That your laugh sounds better in person. Know it's cheesy but truly music to my ears."

"You nutter!"

"Oi, picking up my slang, are you?"

"Got to, especially when you called that Evan kid a wanker for dismissing my response." You snicker, remembering the moment a few classes ago when you spoke up to give your opinion only for Evan trying to mansplain how women in politics were growing already especially having a female-run as a candidate a few years back. You would have cussed him out, but Harry did it for you. He packed up all your points with his own references. Safe to say, Evan has not spoken up since then.

"Cause he is one. You're the smartest person in the class, and that tosser should not even be in this class. Clearly, hasn't learned one bit since January."

"Settle down, honey. All in the past." You pat his chest a few times, getting his focus back on you. "Got that book you've wanted to read, want to give it a read now?"

"Course, baby. Happy you had it in your collection." He's gotten back into reading now that he seemed to have more time on his hands, and they had been bouncing recommendations off of each other. You had told him to stay off Book Tok because it was the same ten books being promoted by every page. His sister told him to read The Silent Patient, but he couldn't rationalize spending fifteen dollars, and he couldn't find the free pdf. He asked you and told him Amy bought it for you as a gift for feeding her.

"Let me get it out of my bag; you can lay in my lap easier to listen to."

Harry's eyes go wide; you're going to read him. He did not expect that, but he had to make sure. "Going to read to me, darling?"

"If you don't mind." you tuck your hand into your tote bag again, "brought my kindle in case you didn't want to. Won't be sad if you don't want to."

"No, I want you to. Yeah, more than anything. Got the prettiest voice." Harry pecks your lips, pulling back giddy because that's the first time he's kissed you, and well, he has to do it again. Your lips move in sync, the kisses feeling smoother but just as passionate. You break the kiss, playfully push him away, hands-off, letting you adjust yourself before he sets one of the smaller pillows in your lap and lays his head. Your hand is quick to find a place in his hair, thankful you've mastered the one hand reading and page-flipping due to always having a book in your hand growing up.

_____

After reading for a bit, Harry lifts his head from your lap, taking the time to admire you. You kept reading, letting him take you in from this new angle. You stopped brushing his hair instead, allowing yourself to get immersed in the book once again. You giggled, thinking back at Harry's reaction to the opening line of chapter one.

You had just flipped to a new page, ready to start chapter seven, when you saw how fidgety Harry had gotten. He clearly had something on his mind, so you wanted to give him his space; you had only read five words when he spoke, interrupting you.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Harry blurts, shifting to sit in front of you.

You don't smile, but you know he can see the gleam in your eyes at his words, "Hmmm...will you give me a cute nickname?"

Harry doesn't know what you're doing but goes along with it. "Already do, so yes."

"Will you let me make you more masks?"

"Yes."

"Will you knit me a sweater?"

"I'll knit you hundreds."

You nod, "then yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

"Yeah, you want me to be your boyfriend," Harry teases.

"Dork," you shove his shoulder, causing him to fall back. He gasps in shock.

You laugh, and it's music to his ears; his dramatic response is swallowed as he takes you in. Harry isn't sure where he'd be without you. He takes in the happiness displayed on your face and knows if you could look in a mirror, he'd look just as happy if not more. You are a light in his life.

These last few months have changed everything about him. Harry hadn't really understood what it meant when people said that your partner should also be your best friend. He thought it was cheesy and something to give false hope to others, but with you, he knew it was true.

Starting off as friends built a strong foundation for you both to grow together, and he is forever thankful you took a chance on him.

Harry called it fate, but you well, you think it was all thanks to the zoom gods who set you up in a random break out room not once but twice.

_____

thank you for reading :) I adore you xx

[dont-be-so-shy]

katie gardner headcanons i have so many

based off katie’s wiki page 

warning: long-ass post 

such a risktaker 

ADHDADHDADHD 

likes to be in charge but also doesn’t trust herself 

has So Much Anxiety 

is allergic to chocolate 

was bullied in elementary school so doesn’t like pranksters all that much 

is a certified atheist except for the whole... Demigod Thing 

loves hiking so much 

fog makes her brain go brrr 

she loves brain freezes for some reason 

and also slushies 

also has this weird obession with popsicles 

STRAWBERRIES 

oral fixation so chews strawberry or mint gum a LOT 

she wears both reading glasses and braces 

the braces went away in like, 7th grade

she rarely reads (oh no!) so seeing her in glasses is cherished 

but she wears sunglasses a weird amount (those really dark ones so you can’t see her eyes) 

she hates touching her eyes 

ironically, most of her injuries are black eyes 

she has the clearest skin 

uses the “my crops are watered” meme perfectly 

loves flowers so much 

she can control plants but sometimes when the fear response in her brain goes brrr it’s hard to control 

(so just imagine this girl (katie) holding out her arms trying to stop her plants from strangling a demigod she knew who’s joined the titans, saying “please please stay down stop!” 

emotionsssss yay) 

her dad was a thief and was put in jail for it so she usually visits his jail cell whenever she goes home 

she goes home during a lot of the school year 

but not all of it 

she has a stepmom, a stepsister her stepmom had with her first husband, and a stepbrother who was conceived a little before her dad was arrested 

she loves all three of them and they love her back 

her little brother keeps up her garden while she’s gone 

he also has ADHD but isn’t a demigod 

she loves giving her stepsister lilies because her name is lili 

before her stepmom got official custody of katie after her dad was arrested when she was younger, her super irresponsible uncle had custody 

he took her to races so she learned how to drive at a really early age 

her uncle was arrested for 2 months which was the final push to get her stepmom custody of her 

she has a lot of respect for authority because they’ve been mostly nice to her her whole life but she is not afraid to rebel 

she once spray-painted a racist teacher’s car, in like, middle school 

her dad is part latino and demeter was posing as an italian when they did their thing so her skin’s more olive-toned but she’s really tan and has slight freckles that are almost invisible on her 

when she blushes, she blushes 

when her uncle got out of jail, he got an apartment in brooklyn to be close to her 

he’s super loyal to the family and not a bad person 

he’s a better uncle now that she’s older 

no one’s explicitly said she’s a demigod to him but she has used minor plant magic in front of him soooooo

it’s not really mentioned in their family 

her cover story is she’s staying with her maternal grandma in new york to go to a better school 

truth is she hasn’t gone to a full day of school in years 

her grandparents are actually still alive but blind and have memory issues and its just such a sad hassle to visit them 

she’s only vacationed to canada and brazil but she loved both 

she loves rainforests so much 

parakeets are her favorite animal 

she found rachel dare’s cave during her hiking trips and introduced rachel to it 

the battle of the labyrinth really scared her so she has a cave full of backup weapons only miranda and billie know about 

(putting her thievery skills to good use) 

she loves the adrenaline rush heights give her and has gone bungee jumping off cliffs before 

it helped her the one time monsters cornered her near her home in southern USA and she led them away 

there’s a lot of ravines and small valleys where she lives 

she also likes sliding down the drain pipes by her bedroom window to sneak out and go to the movies with her mortal friends 

there’s this one lady in her hometown (one town over from where she lives right now) who can see through the mist but she’s called senile so much it’s offensive 

at camp, she uses an apple tree to sneak out 

she loves horses so much 

young energetic pegasi love her because she’ll do cool tricks and dives on them 

she’s not close to dryads and nymphs like miranda is 

she’s good with animals but doesn’t like them very much 

her stepmom works for this cool, green-energy fashion industry so katie dresses up a lot to make her happy 

she cooks for the whole family 

and when at camp, the demeter cabin stays in during dinner and she cooks for them 

she loves sushi SO MUCH 

she likes the ocean a lot 

when she was little, her dad and uncle used to take her to the beach and she would surf and wakeboard with them 

now her stepmom does it 

her stepsis, lili, has a fear of drowning so she just tans on shore 

she likes being in the ocean during camp’s 4th of july celebrations so she can see the reflections of the fireworks because they hurt her eyes when she looks at them directly 

she spends a lot of time with satyrs 

she can play reed pipes but hasn’t mastered getting plants to grow to her music yet 

she likes the stoll brothers a lot; they have a nice friendly-yet-competitive rivalry going on 

TREE CLIMBING IS HER BITCH 

(probably why she doesn’t have that good of a relationship with the dryads) 

she once kissed one of the lake’s naiads so now they’re friends 

she’s bi obvs 

her closest sibling is miranda but she really appreciates billie’s sarcasm and take-no-shit, give-so-much-shit attitude 

her fourth grade teacher was an author so now people look at her weird whenever she introduces herself because she’s a character 

FLOWER CROWNS FLOWER CROWNS FLOWER CROWNS 

she also likes dresses and sweatpants an abnormal amount 

she wears belts and necklaces so much it’s weird to see her without them 

she wears big gaudy flower rings on her fingers 

she also has two demeter children half-brothers steve and doug but they prefer to stay in the honorary persephone cabin 

katie has dirty blonde/light brown hair but she dyes it purple 

katie has heterochromia because yes so she has one hazel eye and one blue 

because of the titan war, when she was fighting that demigod i mentioned above (he’s a hephaestus kid), she has two burn scars on her wrists 

life long obvs because we stan scars here 

also, her blue eye? its fucking sky blue and so intense ajdojdijefp 

she’s such a workaholic 

SHE HAS INSOMNIA FIGHT ME 

she’s always warm it’s so weird 

she’s allergic to grapes but loves them 

seriously grapes, chocolate, she’s basically a dog 

on that note, she has a dog 

it’s a service dog and golden retriever, his name is dewey after that one duck cartoon 

she has a new hyperfixation every week, usually about history and wars and stuff 

she doesn’t have dyslexia just eye problems 

she did ballet when she was younger but a bad ankle injury stopped her 

she got to camp and ate ambrosia and healed it but then she was too busy 

every year on her birthday, if her dad’s on parole, they go to a ballet together 

katie paints her bedroom walls 

but no posters weirdly 

she has fidgets so she uses fidget spinners and her leg bounces a lot 

she has a scar on her lip from biting it through during her dad’s trial 

she learned skateboarding from travis and loves it 

chuck-e-cheese is their place 

[whump-town]

would you be willing to write something inspired by the song "All For You" by Night Riots? no worries if not, I just think you'd be great at emotionally hurting us using the song

I love the Night Riots and it took me a hot second to figure out what I thought this song was about? My original idea was malicious and I decided against it and went with Hotch and Jack instead but that's not to say this is... better. I think the original meaning is more romantic but it's never struck me as a romantic song so I didn't write it that way (but I'd write it that way if you'd like)

The divorce happened long before Jack could remember. His first memories are of his parents apart. His mother liked the park. Climbing up on the slides and pushing him too high on the swings. She was adventurous and thriving, every moment he spent with her was packed with a new plan. A new trip. His father didn’t enjoy the loud screams of the other children, got nervous around the parents. He preferred the museum. Jack can remember sitting on his shoulders, his father’s trembling hand outstretched in front of them as he explained a painting or an artifact. There is a single memory that he has of them together.

There’s a bruise across his father’s eye, bleeding down into his lip. The colors are distorted, yellow and purple. A rainbow across his pale skin. Jack touches it curiously, tries to rub it off with his thumb but his mother pulls him away. She redirects him to the playground and promises they’ll follow after in a moment, go play. He remembers looking back at them, shouting for them at the top of the slide. He’d been so overjoyed at the sight of them together he hadn’t cared why. They’d waved back and he went on. He looked back at them several times. His father so small tucked against his mother’s side, her fingers soothing back his cowlicks back the same gentle way she does with Jack’s hair.

After she died, he spent a lot of time with other people. Over the course of the seventy-nine days following the death of his mother, he saw his father once, at the funeral. He had just come out of the bathroom, Jessica caving to his light tantrum and letting him go by himself. He walked straight into Emily.

“Oh,” she said softly. With a rustle of her dress, she knelt down beside him. “I was wondering where it was you were hiding,” she whispered. She had been the last familiar face he saw before they went into Witsec. She sat outside his father’s hospital room and talked to him, tried to be louder than his parents only a few feet away. It was her that assured him his father looked rather poorly but was okay, she would take care of him. She and Uncle Dave would make sure he would be okay. She’d been waving when he looked back over his shoulder at the hospital, he’d watched her disappear from the car window.

Jack hadn’t seen his father since. Has no memory of being pulled out of the box or talking to him on the phone minutes before that fateful shot.

Jack squirms, discomfort twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t know how to explain. He knows he’ll be in trouble if he’s caught talking to her. Grandpa won’t be happy. “Do you know where Aunt Jess is?” he asks instead, looking around Emily to try and find her.

Emily shakes her head, “no sweetheart, I don’t. Why don’t we try to find her?”

Emily led him around the hall by the hand and that’s when Jack sees him. All he can see is his back but Jack knows it’s him. He wants to run over, to shout his name, and be pulled into one of his crushing hugs but he stays grappled to Emily. As if sensing him close, Hotch turns. They look at each other for a long moment, neither moving nor calling for the other.

He tells Jessica later as she’s tucking him into bed.

“Why didn’t you say hi, honey? That would have made his day.”

Jack hides his face in his pillow, shakes his head. No, it wouldn’t have.

They passed him around. He spent nine days with his grandparents and he learned quickly not to ask for his mother or father. Neither would be coming to get him. He played in the backyard and talked to them, shadows of them that he imagined there. His father laying on a picnic blanket, reading some old dusty book that smells weird, and his mother encouraging him to kick the ball back. With the sun on his back, he could nearly imagine them here. How it would feel to have his mother kiss his face again, to be held tightly to her chest until he begs to be put back down. To lay down beside his father, his head on his chest, and listening to the rumble of his voice through the rattling of his ribs.

He spends thirteen consecutive days with Jessica. She promised him his father was coming. “Give him time, sweetheart. He’s coming.”

Nearly a month. Jack stops hoping. He stops dreaming about those sunny days in the yard. Long days at the park and the way the world shifts when he’s atop his father’s shoulders looking down. Twenty-six days and his father shows up with a knock at the door. He was left with the neighbor, his grandparents, and Jess both having to leave. They come home in a fury, no one speaks to him as his clothes are packed. His toys were thrown in a suitcase.

His father looks so different. Tall and willowy, his limbs hanging down in a somber haunted curtain. His hands were in bandages, shaking at his sides. The same suit he wore to court that day hanging off of him. Jack hadn’t run immediately to him. He looked to his grandparents, huddled by the stairs and angry. To Jessica with tears in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to go or even if he should.

“Jack?” his father simply knelt to the floor. Forced his body into something smaller, sinking to the same height as his son. He looked more like a tired beast falling to the ground, a great huffing dying thing giving up its fight. “I missed you, buddy.” His voice cracks, his lip trembles but he doesn’t cry. “Do you--” he has to clear his throat. Has to wipe his eyes. “If you’d like we can go to my house now.”

Jack looks to his grandparents again, he doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Hotch smiles, tears seeping down his face, “you don’t have to come with me.” He tries to sound encouraging, to make it sound like he’s okay with whatever Jack chooses. If he’d rather stay with his grandparents that’s okay but it won’t be. Hotch can’t go home to that empty apartment again. He can’t keep living with his son torn away. “You can stay here, Jack.”

Jack shakes his head, anxiously he brings his fingers to his mouth. He looks to his grandparents again, to Jess expecting someone to tell him what to do. “You want me to?” he asks softly. “To go with you?”

Hotch chokes on a sob, nods his head when he can’t trust himself to say yes.

Jack runs to him, collides right into his chest, and pushes his face into his father’s shirt. Clings to him.

Hotch cups Jack’s head closer, sobbing no matter how badly he wishes he could maintain his control. He hasn’t seen his son in months. He’d felt the rejection and the fear in his eyes when they saw each other at the funeral, how clear it was that Jack wasn’t even sure that Hotch loved him.

Foyet had taken Jack but Hotch had pushed him away and then he nearly lost him. Haley’s parents wanted him, proper retribution for killing their daughter and he had nearly nothing to hold himself upright with. No rights to claim Jack. Could he name Jack’s favorite cartoon? Did he know Jack’s favorite color? Hotch hadn’t seen him in so long. He knew that Jack only ate the banana snacks when he was a baby. He slept with a nightlight of a firetruck and a stuffed bear named Nemo, who was sometimes also called other names depending on Jack’s mood. That at four his favorite color was yellow because that’s what Haley’s favorite color was. That Jack didn’t watch cartoons because he only ever wanted to watch Finding Nemo and Brother Bear. So no, no he didn’t know any of those things. Not anymore. He chose to keep his son alive over keeping him nearby, close enough to learn those things.

He thought the courts would rule with Haley’s parents.

He’s in no mental place to be raising a son on his own. His apartment is a mass of boxes as Roy had coldly pointed out, they’d been separated for nearly two years and he still hadn’t unpacked. He didn’t deserve it but he won.

“I thought--” Jack hiccups into his shoulder, fingers clenching Hotch’s jacket as tight as he can. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

Hotch shakes his head, tries to pull Jack closer. Tighter. “No,” he promises, hoarsely. “No, buddy, I’d never stop loving you.”

[sapphiics]

blessed are the forgetful

Jennifer Jareau Gen fic a/n: I watched eternal sunshine of the spotless mind and immediately thought of this for JJ! I'm thinking of doing this as a series for the entire team so let me know what you think! Also I made JJ fifteen when Roslyn dies as opposed to 10/11, it was easier to write. I did not know how to finish this at all so sorry if the ending is kind of weird

Warnings- mentions of suicide and blood

Word Count : 1207

Summary : It’s been too long, and JJ is tired of grieving by herself.

It took JJ’s parents 108 days to cave in. The funeral had happened over two months ago, and everything had been moved to the garage. Marked boxes stacked in a corner. When her parents had the procedure done, the technicians put tape over her name, her parents none the wiser.

JJ hated them at first. She already thought it was selfish how they were splitting up, leaving her in the middle of the two of them. What they did only further solidified her anger at them. Now, she’s starting to believe they were right. It would be so much easier to forget. Forget her smile, forget her eyes, forget how angry she was in the days leading up. Screaming at Dad, yelling at Mom, shutting JJ out. Forget finding their first child, their seventeen year old daughter, bleeding to death in the bathtub with Dad’s razor blade lying next to her.

But they didn’t find her. Their other daughter did. The one they still have, who's still alive . Only JJ is barely there herself. She can’t stand to be around either of them anymore. The technicians told her to refrain from speaking of Roslyn anymore. Their own daughter, gone. A memory they both erased to ease their pain, their hurt. Leaving JJ in her own mourning, her pain crashing down upon her with nobody to help. No shoulder to cry on, arms to wrap around her. It’s impossible, because they simply don’t remember. They don’t remember sitting in the only hospital in their town, the two of them cramped on a hospital bed smiling down at their first child. Roslyn finally taking her first steps at 18 months in the backyard as they taped the entire thing. They erased those memories, burned those tapes. Can’t remember her first day of kindergarten, JJ nestled in the arms of her mother as Roslyn bounded up the stairs of their elementary school. It’s all gone for them, living on only in JJ’s memory. Like a ghost no one else believes in. A spirit haunting no one but her. 

JJ keeps everything. It doesn’t matter if the technicians say it could cause harmful triggers to her parents. They chose that brain damage, the easy way out. She’s done putting any of their needs first. Her parents left her to suffer alone.  Roslyn’s necklace sits on her neck, ‘a gift from a friend.’ Her journal sits on JJ’s bedside, her shoes under the bed. Her blankets have replaced JJ’s own, and her clothes sit in a basket at the bottom of JJ’s closet. The perfume is JJ’s favorite memento. When it's late, and she just wants to scream at her parents for moving on and leaving her in the unbearable grief of losing a sister at 15, she sits in her basket of clothes, sprays the perfume, and closes her eyes. And for one fleeting second, she can almost trick her brain into believing that she isn’t utterly alone.

There’s this moment every morning JJ wakes up. This one euphoric moment. Where she doesn’t remember anything. Her mind is completely blank, and for a split second, she feels happy. And then reality sets in and her despair kicks her further than she could ever imagine, and the guilt pools in her stomach, Guilt because the best part of her day, the best part of her life for the past 108 days, is the moment when she forgets Roslyn. JJ clutches Ros’s necklace around her neck, dropping back down into her sheets. She starts sympathizing more with her mother and father.

It takes months for her to work up the courage to schedule an appointment with Lacuna. Day 224. JJ knows she won’t follow through with the procedure, but a part of her needs to see it. See how her parents just erased Roslyn. The doctor made it seem so normal, just help create a map of that person in your brain, and they’ll delete all the memories for you. You even wake up in your own bed. JJ was with her grandparents that day, none the wiser of what her parents were doing until dinner time came around and they had to explain to her what was going on. How her parents took her sister and deleted her. Like a file in their brain they didn’t need anymore. She walks out of the clinic, disgusted by the fact that for a pitiful minute, she was seriously contemplating following in the footsteps of her Mom and Dad. The harsh Pennsylvanian winter bites at her cheeks, freezing the tears she knows are bound to fall as she briskly walks home. A pamphlet is tucked in her back pocket.

“She was angry and withdrawn,” JJ exclaims bitterly, ”it was like living with a stranger! I hate saying it out loud but all I could think about initially, before it really set in, was that there would finally be peace.” The technician, a guy named Stan, motions for her to continue, ”But then it wasn’t peace, it was just a flood of grief, and I’m angry because everybody but me has either moved on or forgotten about her and I cannot keep living like this,” she finishes, angry tears sneaking out of her eyes and onto her flushed cheeks. “ Thank you Ms. Jareau, we have enough. If you could just lean back and place your head under here,” tapping the mechanical contraption hanging from the ceiling,” we could get started. When the procedure is finished, you will awaken in your bed as if nothing has occurred, your memories of your sister completely gone.” JJ’s face slackens, the reality of what she's doing feeling like a gut punch. Her sister, her Rosalyn, erased. All her mementos, all their memories together, just gone. The sacred fifteen years they got to spend together. Could she really do that to her beloved sister, wipe her away like a dirty mark on her life? But then JJ remembers the pain. The horrific overwhelming, all-consuming pain she’s been in for the past 9 months. The dreadful loneliness she’s been suffocating in around her parents, around the entire town that looks at her with their pitiful eyes. The sob-filled nights that she spends huddled in her sister’s blankets, desperately reaching for someone who simply isn’t there anymore. Is it so bad that she wants to be free of that?

JJ wakes up in her bed, the sunrise shining through her window. And just like every other day, that utter happiness hits her. Her hand lifts towards her neck, nothing around it. The happiness stays, the feeling settling into her head, heart, all the way to her toes. And then JJ turns, her eyes catching a glance at her bed stand table. Lying on top of her dead sister's journal, is that same dead sister’s necklace. And the sadness pours, the same feeling washing over JJ for the millionth time. It’s more bittersweet today, her immense grief worth it because she has a sister to remember. JJ sits up in her bed, grabs the notebook and necklace, and slides back into the blanket, cracking open the journal like an old book. And for the first time in 276 days since Rosalyn Jareau died, JJ relishes in every single memory.

[haphazardlyparked]

cousin Billy

lol i have spent two days doing literally none of the things i need to be doing, but meg did suddenly get a cousin. :))) 

----------

“Hey, favorite cousin,” Meg said when I opened the door. “I need a favor.”

I opened it enough to get a good look at her. She was wearing some kind of crude brown coverall-trousers and a rough, threadbare shirt, totally filthy hair (and the Meg I saw off wore a gorgeous dark braid, and now all that thick woven glory was a short frizzy cut that had leaves in it, not even dead leaves, golden and red and orange).

She wasn’t even alone; her entourage included a square-faced man larping as a dirty knight, a tall sallow woman with subtly mis-matched eyes that I absolutely did not notice, holding a small blue dragon statue that did not close one eyelid and curl its tail a bit in. It didn’t, because that would have been insane, or worse, in the realm of fantasy, and that’s one place I generally prefer not to go.

I closed my eyes and shut the door.

Meg immediately started banging on it. “Don’t be like that, cuz, open up, please,” I could hear her say, very clearly, followed by the dirty knight who said, “Lady Meg, should we go somewhere else?”

And the tall woman asked, “What is a cuz?”

“Cuz, cousin, my mother’s sister’s daughter,” Meg explained, exasperated yet very thorough in her reply. Just for the record, she hadn’t stopped banging on my door either.

Then the tall woman, sounding very different and perhaps a bit taller than the first tall woman, which I also decided not to think about very hard, murmured, “You have family?”

There was just enough absurdity in that to make me pause. It was not the loneliness that got me, or the the wistful surprise, like the tall woman had only just remembered family was a thing people could have.

I opened the door and sidestepped Meg’s falling hand. “What in God’s name are you bringing down on me, cuz?” I demanded.

I’ve found that holy curses, the kind my grandparents use, are always safest. That took some trial and error, and a lot of hiding under my covers.

Meg beamed and pulled her arm back the second she realized I’d caved and opened the door. “Billy, these are my, uh, friends, Cal, Arina Firedancer, and—“

“Do you call me that in your own thoughts,” the (second) tall woman wondered, but more in statement form; cool and cutting, with none of that breakable loneliness now.

“Shut up, Arina Firedancer, what else am I supposed to call you?” Meg hissed, introductions derailed. But she paused before she took them up again, glanced at the dragon statue, and then decided to keep mum. If the dragon statue snorted, it might have meant that was exactly this Arina Firedancer’s purpose, but I didn’t see the dragon move at all.

“This is fun, Meg, really,” I told my wayward cousin in a way that emphatically declared the opposite. I crossed my arms and kept my eyes on her very normal, dirt-streaked face. “Disappear for a few years and show up on my doorstep like you haven’t bathed in any of that time, and you have leaves in your hair, by the way.”

“Billy, stop pretending you don’t know exactly where I went, please let us in, and no I don’t.” Meg was trying to smile at me when she said it, only she did not sound nearly as foolhardy and blithely optimistic as the last time I saw her.

Well, that wasn’t my problem. But she was family.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and then I stepped aside and let everyone come in. Meg knew it the minute my security went down, and she barged through the door with a cry of relief and went running for the bathroom.

Typical.

“Alright, dirty knight, tall woman, very inanimate dragon statue—please do not sit on or touch anything until you’ve washed. Actually, just stay here for a minute. Meg will show you the bathroom when she comes back out. Anyone want a glass of water?”

“Yes,” the dragon statue said.

“Anyone?” I repeated, pointedly, and then the dirty knight, who I presumed was Cal, said, “If you would be so kind,” and Arina Firedancer repeated him, word for word and inflection for inflection, neither cutting nor wistful now. She managed Cal’s earnestly obliging politeness so convincingly, I decided immediately not to trust her.  

I retreated to get them two glasses of water to sort out amongst themselves. When I returned, they stood huddled together by my door, Cal positioning himself closest towards me, hand not quite on his sword, while Arina Firedancer watched me with her strange, intent stare. The dragon statue drank water.

At the very least, they were good about not touching anything, though I’d long since moved most things from the small entrance hall. There was a coatrack, in the corner opposite two closed doors that filled one side of the hall, all its walls now bare of the photos that used to be there. The hall itself opened up into the living room behind me, with the kitchen hidden off to one side. My bedroom was one of the doors by the entrance, which you’d think was extremely unlucky and maybe unsafe, but then I’d say, let’s think about where my potentially unwanted visitors might be coming from.

The open living room, and the kitchen for that matter, had very big, spacious window-doors that led out onto a little terrace in the backyard. So sometimes it was better to be near the front door. And my bedroom does have two (locked) exits, so it wasn’t like I wasn’t also hedging my bets. If you were me, you’d be this paranoid too.

It wasn’t long before Meg came out of the bathroom and reappeared in the living room, shaking her hands out to dry, and before she could sit on anything I called out, “Same rules apply to you! No touching anything until you’ve showered.”

Meg jerked up from the beige chair she was about to plant her dirty pants all over, caught, and then straightened with a huff. “Okay, fine.”

“And even if I do let you shower, that doesn’t mean I’m helping you.”

“We only need a door, Billy,” Meg said immediately, abandoning the chair to rejoin us out in the little hall, which was starting to feel crowded. There was a strange purpose to her, no longer smiling to lighten the mood.

“You already know how to get back to your”—I waved vaguely in the direction of Meg’s friends, and didn’t look to see what the dragon statue was up to now—“place.”

Meg tried another smile. It seemed off, for some reason, like there really was something desperate to her. I guess a couple of years living in some weird fantasy land commune--yes, that is the story I'm going with--can do that to a person.

“Not back,” she corrected me, and this time her wheedling grin was just as obnoxious as ever. “Somewhere else. Somewhere like… Fairy?”

“Oh are we talking about that now?” someone said, and then gulped down another sip of water. “Can I talk now? Crouching to be this small is extremely stifling. ”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted back from ten. I didn’t care how stupid it made me look.

When I calmed down, I opened my eyes and breathed out. “Meg, you are hands-down my least favorite cousin."

She beamed at me. She knew what I sounded like when I gave in.  

••• ••• •••

You might ask why I am still with the thief who doomed me and her knight and their dragon. I could give you a very long and complicated answer about how she also saved me, in her own time, and how the knight and dragon have shown me kindness, and how these are debts that must be repaid. It would be believable. I know how to be believable.

But I record this to be honest. So instead I will think about that space between them, all the things they say, which outline its shape, enough that I can guess at the things they don’t say. They circle each other, some nearly-tangible connection between them, and it’s that thing that I need to see.

It reminds me what it is like to be human, and while I am being honest, I am doing my best to want that again.

Lady Meg’s cousin is… extremely human. Perhaps something humans can become only without the fear of fairy, I suppose, though this one has really been employing the human power of belief to maintain a strange atmosphere in her home. It feels strangely clean. Empty.

She reaches out to Lady Meg and starts plucking leaves out of her hair. I had thought I'd seen them, but they shimmer fully into view when Lady Meg's cousin draws them out, and Meg frowns, washing away the last light of her triumphant, relieved smiles.

"I don't even want to know how long those have been there."

The cousin Billy sniffs. "Me either. You can use the bathroom off my bedroom, and your friends can share the guest one.”

"And you--"

"Yes, yes," cousin Billy says, and her fistful of orange, red and yellow rustles. "I think these might help seeing as they're native to... your destination."

That makes Lord Cal look worried, and Lady Meg rolls her eyes, because that seems to frequently reassure him. Well, it did before the unicorn.

"Let me show you the wash room," Lady Meg announces, while her cousin unhappily examines the fairy leaves. She ushers us through to the next open room. Through there we turn a corner, where there is a door to one side and another room before us, one with high counters, many cabinets and a deep sink. Lady Meg opens the side door to reveal the bathroom.

It is an odd affair, like something between fairy and home. Lady Meg shows us how the taps work in the standing bath and the white chamberpot, and stresses that it's not magic but merely plumbing. She points to the towels folded on a rack, and I cede the first turn to Lord Cal.

Out the door together, we move to the kitchen, the room with the sink where Lady Meg refills the dragon's glass cup. I set the dragon on one of the counters.

"Hey," Lady Meg says, voice lowered in her version of polite. "Am I not supposed to call you Arina Firedancer?"

I look at her for a moment too long before I remember to blink and look away. I know why she’s asking. I shouldn’t be surprised by it anymore, by that directness. “You may call me what you want," I assure her. "I was just surprised… It is very kind of you. " I hadn't expected her to be so courteous.

"Why is..." Lady Meg trails off, then mutters, "Names. Is it that? I'll never understand them."

I shrug. I don't know that any human can, but it feels right to me, honorable, that we don't think in first names, showing how we don't presume to each other's true names. Is that a fairy or human kind of honesty?

When I don't say anything, Lady Meg recognizes my silence and says, "Alright. I'm going to get some clean clothes for you guys, then shower myself."

I wait until she's back with two piles of folded clothes to ask, "And then?"

"Then Billy will find us a door to fairy. Or something. She's really good at that stuff, once you get her to take the blinders off.”

“I didn’t hear that!” cousin Billy’s voice calls from some other room, loud and indignant and very, very human.

The miniature blue dragon's scales rippled. "Your cousin seems very bad at observation," she commented dubiously.

Lady Meg snorted.

[house-of-secrets]

So, I've been listening to the Anubis Backwards Podcast and I wanted to describe some stuff from one involving Brad and I wanted your thoughts: Tasie and Brad lost the plot during S3 and were confused by Mabian, Brad found his role in S3 to be weird since he was no longer a lead (though I'm surprised he didn't say glorified extra), the writers considered KT and Fabian having a relationship but they originally had other plans for KT at the end of the season (Brad can't remember what they were).

Continuing Anubis Backwards Podcast with Brad Kavanagh Details: Season 4 would have focused on a new cast (he also compared Dexter and Cassie to Fabian and Amber), Mick and Amber's exits were creative decisions by the writers, Nathalia leaving was already known by end of filming S2 and that they should have filmed something in advance of that for the start of S3, Mabian wouldn't have lasted, and thinks something should be done for the 10th anniversary. Anyways, I would appreciate your thoughts.

Hi Anon!

I love their podcast! I know that HOA at its heart was an ensemble show, but it was definitely disappointing to have Brad’s character placed largely on the sidelines during season 3. I know he mentioned that they had all new writers for season 3, so that explains the different takes on the characters. Plus they apparently wrote the season in sections and constantly changed their plans.

I’m personally a Joy/K.T. shipper, but I could see Fabian with K.T. if he hadn’t turned into a sinner. Brad mentioned that the writers had thought about writing Fabian/Patricia into the script and I as much as I love Peddie, that would have been hilarious!

I have to agree with Brad that Mabian wouldn’t have lasted long after graduation. I figure that they went to separate universities in the fall, so they might have lasted the summer but not long after the start of the school year. They didn’t have a strong friendship to fall back on so as soon as they ran into their first couple fights, the relationship would be over.

I personally would LOVE a “10 years later” reunion (either cast or characters) episode(s). I headcanon that:

- Fabian and Eddie stayed super close even years later. I would love to see Eddie and Patricia as godparents to Fabian’s children. I know Brad was a jabian shipper, but I couldn’t see them getting back together after everything that happened between them. He probably married someone he met at work. I reckon that he got to university, looked around and realized that his traumatic teen years had supplied him with a ton of archeological knowledge and bolted for the Archeology and Museum Studies departments to sign up.

- Peddie got married the weekend after they graduated university. Patricia is now an artist and Eddie teaches Elementary School. They moved permanently to the UK, but still go to visit his mother a lot so that their 2 sons can know their grandmother. Mr. Sweet is definitely a helicopter grandparent who is reaping the rewards of the elixir.

- I think Willow and Alfie were cute, but I would love to have seen Amber and Alfie get back together and have a kid. Amber would have developed her own fashion brand and I could see Alfie as a stay at home father working his third popular Zombie novel. Alfie also struggled for a couple years with the side effects of having taken the elixer of life....

- Willow is a travel guide who took it upon herself to run the yearly Anubis House alumni news letter.

- I could see Mara with a doctorate and teaching at a University, happily single for the first time in years

- Mick and Nina show up to the reunion because I love them! Mick played football professionally for an Australian team and is a single father.

- Nina moved to Washington D.C. after her grandmother passed away. I could see her working as a librarian and enjoying a quiet life after her troubled teenage years. I figure she was probably the most reluctant to attend the reunion because of how everything ended.

- Joy is an event planner who moved to New York two years ago and fell in love with the city. Her and Jerome broke up during their first year of college, got back together after graduation, they were engaged but then she got cold feet and fled to the USA. Currently single after breaking up with her latest fling.

- Jerome has a bank job and finally has a healthy friendship with Alfie. He’s been single ever since Joy broke off their engagement two years ago and left for New York without a word.

- K.T. & Eddie still talk and she joined the military after graduation.

- Victor is off hiding in a cave with the touchstone of Ra so he won’t attend the reunion.

- Trudy and Jasper got married and they opened an B&B.

This got super long, but did I miss anyone? If so I’ll probably do a longer post later with a more in-depth list… or a reunion fic… - Evie

[themandylion]

A Tale of Two Tims

(Have a thing I wrote up/shared on the Tim Drake Discord Server.)

Okay, but listen. Parent-trap type situation where there are actually two Tims, let's call them Timothy Jackson Drake and Timothy Drake Jackson. The one that first shows up/first becomes Red Robin in New52 is Tim Jackson—when he screws up and brings the wrath of Penguin down on him/his family, he does his own version of witness protection to hide his parents, then assumes the identity of his cousin, Tim Drake (who went to a dig with his archeologist parents over the summer; the whole family apparently died when their plane went down, all very tragic). It's going pretty good, the Jacksons were for all intents and purposes killed by Penguin's men when they shot up their suburban home. Tim "Drake" (actually Tim J.) is found to be alive! And taken in by local philanthropist, Bruce Wayne. At night, he dresses up as Red Robin, everything's cool.

EXCEPT! Turns out Tim Drake (the real one, the one we know and love from pre-Flashpoint canon) actually didn't die in that plane crash! He makes it back to Gotham, looking for his only relatives, the Jacksons (I'm thinking Tim J.'s dad was Janet Drake's brother and both Tims were named for a shared grandfather, btw). Only they're dead?? And somehow there's already a Tim Drake in Gotham, living as the ward of Bruce Wayne?? Tim D. looks at the photos and look. Look. He's not an idiot. He knows that's his cousin Tim. But he also knows that Tim J. wouldn't have stolen his identity without a good reason so he, like... puts on a fake mustache and some sunglasses and goes to talk to Tim J. who I am trying very hard not to call Jimothy

They decide that the best course of action would be to time share the Tim Drake identity. Tim D.'s always idolized Batman and Robin ("Wait, he made you Robin?! Tim, I'm the one who stalked them for years, this is so not fair!" "Technically, I'm Red Robin, not Robin." "You know what I mean!!"), he's down with getting a chance to be (Red) Robin sometimes! They have to do lots of secret training and junk to make sure Tim D. is at the same level as Tim J., even so they both have their own distinct styles (Tim J., the near-Olympic gymnast, is very flippy and twisty; Tim D. is more cerebral and a better detective; both of them are experts with the bo staff).

The Tims are cousins, but some cousins look very similar. Maybe they both took after the grandparent they were named after or something, idk. They're nearly the same age, almost the same height, and once Tim D. finally gets around to having his hair cut, their hair is the same also.

None of the Bats are aware that there are multiple Tims. If the Tim that checks on Mr. and Mrs. Jackson in Batman & Robin Eternal is Tim D., they're aware it's not their son—but they're also so grateful to see their sweet nephew who they were certain was dead! And he'd basically be their son now if it weren't for how their own Tim kinda totally screwed stuff up so now they have to be in hiding, oops.

Eventually, it becomes a challenge for them—how long can they keep everyone aside from Tim J.'s parents from realizing that there are multiple Tims? They make bets over who'll figure it out first, and when, and how. Supers might be able to tell that this Tim is not the same as the Tim who they met before! Better stay away from Supers for a bit. What if someone notices that Tim doesn't have the same scars?? There's a tense period where they seriously consider purposefully scarring each other in an effort to complete the illusion, before they realize that's crazy and they'll just have to shower privately/be very careful about medical stuff. Tims have to be careful and try to always wear gloves in the cave so that there aren't any contradictory fingerprints. ("Tim, how come you never do fingerprint ID on your phone?" "Uuuuh I just prefer number passcodes. *sweats nervously*")

Probably the biggest threat to the whole charade is that they both really, really want to pull an Epic Prank on Damian to get back at him for all the times he tried to kill them. But no, there's too great a chance it could reveal the whole thing. But it would be so glorious for a brief period of time—!

(This is where I point out that I have mostly ignored Rebirth so I have no idea about most details and am mostly dependent on stuff I've gleaned from Tumblr.) Which Tim was "dead"? Who knows! Probably the flippy usurper, though. This might also explain why Bruce was so ready to accept Tim's "death"—he knew Tim wasn't dead because Tim was right there! In the manor! Hiding out and pretending to be dead until Batman got to the bottom of the mystery of who tried to kill Red Robin! "Good job, sport, dodging the incinerating lasers at the last moment and tricking the drones into thinking they'd killed you!" "Riiiight, dodging... *sweats nervously*" (Tim D. is super-worried about Tim J., but he can't say/do anything or else the Bats will find out that there's more than one Tim!! Oh noooooo)

Neither one of them lays claim to evil future Tim—who isn't even aware of the existence of multiple Tims?? Clearly this future Tim is an inferior Tim, ugh, not worth listening to, what a jerk wait who's Conner that name sounds vaaaaguely familiar to Tim D....

When memories start coming back and such in Rebirth? That's all Tim D. There's gonna be some reeeeally interesting conversations when he finally makes it back and has a chance to sit down with Tim J. and compare notes. ("Wait, what do you mean you saw Kon? Didn't he get wiped from existence by that whole weird paradox thing where he couldn't have ever existed in the first place?" "Different Kon entirely. My Kon is a clone-combo of Clark and Luthor. Also, my Bart is an adorable dork with big hair, much cooler than your Bart. Sorry, I don't make the rules.")

Anyway. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk on how DC should have handled the sudden personality change between pre-Flashpoint!Tim and New52!Tim. *bows*

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you please write an AU fic where Sander and Robbe are shipwrecked ALONE on a deserted tropical island from when they were pretty young (just like on the blue lagoon w Brooke Shields and Christoffer Atkins) and as time goes by they start developing feelings for each other

It was a long trip, that’s what they always heard. Sander’s memories are all foggy from that time. 

Months in the sea, not sure if they were going in the right direction, facing storms and waves that slowly took the huge ship apart. Until they were here: Paradise.

They would all build a society. A better one than the one they had on the big Island. A big enough group to be able to create future generations.

But the plan that was perfect when they left home got to Paradise like a broken dream. A bunch of friends and family were lost during the trip and for over a decade, they were still losing people. The future was too far away as they were all just teenagers still. Time was not in their favor. The elder ones died almost monthly during the first few years, the adults couldn’t work out another plan quick enough, Paradise was clearly fighting to send all that was left of them back to wherever they came from.

One of Sander’s first, brightest memories outside of the ship is him sitting on the beach, holding a soft, fluffy hand that was connected to an arm and a head. Long, curly blonde hair, pink cheeks and a smile at him as a woman keep telling them how they were made to be together. How they were the start of everyone’s future. Her adults hands were on top of theirs, keeping them together.

He heard that story over and over again like a mantra. For so long and so many times he couldn’t see the difference between the story and what he wanted.

So he would marry Adelynn when he got old enough. He was the oldest boy, he would be a strong leader someday. Once he was able to fully understand those statements, the anxiety inside of him only grew bigger. He was supposed to teach Robbe and all the younger boys everything he learned. 

They all studied together, his mom was the best teacher, but as things started to fall apart, their classes got shorter. It wasn’t a daily activity anymore, it turned into a weekly plan and Sander got too much time in his hand and very little patience to have all the kids following him around, demanding him to teach them everything.

“I don’t know what everything means!” He remembers screaming at Bren one day.

As time went on and nothing seemed certain anymore, the big group of people turned into smaller groups. They would hardly ever all gather around at the same place to talk about the future like they used to do so constantly.

Sander remembers a time where it just wouldn’t stop raining. Felt like a whole year, but he’s not sure. His mom said it was just barely a few months. Another group of people fell sick and more and more deaths started happening again.

He never got to marry Adelynn. The adults’ plan was to get them married when she turned 17 and Sander turned 18. But by the time Sander was 16, Adelynn was only getting worse. He didn’t even see her one last time, her mom and dad wouldn’t let him.

“She’s too sick, sweetie. People can’t see her,” his mom explained as she walked with him back to their house.

He left that night and stayed almost a week hiding in the forest. Adelynn was gone and now Sander was useless to all of them.

Robbe was the one to find him hiding inside a cave.

Since he can remember, they were best friends. But sometimes Sander would wonder if their relationship was really their choice or another imposition. They were the only boys by the time he was 18. The plan was ruined, but Robbe still had to marry Genevie in just a few months. He clearly didn’t like her, but Robbe would never go against what his parents wanted for him. His dad was dead and he made Robbe promise he would marry her, no matter what. He would be the leader now, with a family of his own.

“We could run away. And hide elsewhere. Nobody here has the courage to go explore the entire island after us,” Robbe said that night at the cave while they were waiting for the morning to go back to their houses. Sander had to really look at him to make sure his Robbe was offering an escape. Conformist Robbe wanted a way out.

“They would all die without us. We’re the only two men still able to run around, hunt and fish and bring most food to our tables.”

Robbe looked down when Sander said that and he’ll never forget how clearly disappointed he was.

The marriage never happened. Genevie was always a terrible swimmer. She dragged Robbe away one day and he came back alone, crying like Sander had never seen someone cry before. 

One of his legs was seriously injured as he tried to rescue her from the river they discovered somewhere up the mountain. Sander found her only a few days later and brought her home so her family could bury her.

All they knew was taught to them, by their parents and grandparents. Their story was made by their mouths. Sander could never stop thinking about that. It took months for Robbe to fully recover and they were basically alone.

Adelynn’s grandma was in her bed and Robbe was trying to make something for her to eat when she demanded him to drop everything and come sit with her and Sander.

She held their hands, kissed Sander’s forehead, and asked them to take care of each other. To stop worrying about what they were told and to enjoy Paradise. They were all so worried about following their plan and never got the chance to live the life they had all dreamed. So she begged them to do so.

And after so many tragedies, opening another hole in the ground wasn’t as hard or hurtful.

-

“We should feel some kind of sorrow about this,” Robbe says as he cuts another long trunk that used to be someone’s wall, giving it to Sander at the top of the tree, making a new floor for their new treehouse.

“No, we shouldn’t. They’re all dead, Robbe! I don’t think they mind us destroying their house to make a better, safer one for ourselves.”

Sander is not completely wrong, but it still feels weird to destroy all the old houses to make one for them, to make a long enough ladder and firewood, new spears and tools.

In weeks they manage to build a small room to put all their belongings and it feels like forever, but they finally manage to finish their brand new house after months!

For the last two years or so they’ve been living together, but never shared a bed, just inside that cave a few years back. But they were completely alone, and on that same night, Sander moved to Robbe’s bed. He doesn’t know why, Robbe doesn’t ask either. So it’s not a surprise to find only one bed as the main furniture in their own house.

On their very first night celebrating finally being done, Sander and Robbe manage to drink the whole bottle left of drink Sander’s dad used to hide under his bed. 

He always said it was only for special occasions and adults, but Sander thought this was the most special occasion they would ever get. Robbe couldn’t really go back down to the beach, he was too afraid of not being able to climb back up so he stayed inside, watching as Sander stumbled through the sand, taking his clothes off, throwing himself in the probably warmest ocean ever. 

He looks so happy and relaxed, Robbe wishes he wasn’t this dizzy to join him. He doesn’t know if he should be staring, noticing every detail and he couldn’t tell if Sander was seeing him almost drooling so he rushed to bed when Sander started walking out of the water.

He kept staring at the ladder, until he heard the voice downstairs, laughing and so he pulled the sheets to cover his legs, only looking back when Sander was already inside, still just finishing putting his underwear back on, the fabric instantly hugging his tanned and strong legs.

Sander was still soaking wet and he smiled sneakily as he stood up on their bed, Robbe in between his legs, shaking his white hair, feeling like summer rain in Robbe’s sunburned skin.

“Stop it! You’re gonna make the sheet all wet. Sander!”

Sander comes back down, on his fours on top of Robbe, smiling and kissing his neck, nuzzling against his jaw like he always does. 

“Cutie...” he whispers before dropping himself on the stop right next to Robbe on the bed. 

[quillsink]

Oooh I have stories!! This turned out a lot longer than I thought so sorry

So this one time a few years ago I was at my grandparents house with my dad and my cousin who's was like 10 at the time, and there's a small park like 4 minutes from the house. So my dad let us go alone for 20 minutes, as long as I took my phone. Well we played around for a bit and then got bored so we decided to go further up the road to where there's like a few houses but it's mostly just farm land, to see the house our grandad grew up in. By then I had messaged my dad to ask for 20 more minutes.

After that we walked for like 10 minutes to this small cliff thing which had houses on the edge and a little path. We went down and there were two women walking their dog and they started talking to us. My cousin, who's very extroverted, was walking with them talking and I was messaging my dad for more time. After a bit I walked closer to the women to get my cousin to back up from them (bc its a hike with no one else about and two adults talking to children is weird). Well we made it out of the path which took us about 10 minutes from the house and onto the main road.

So I'm asking my dad for even more time and we get to the park but we don't wanna go home so we walk up a hill 20 minutes to get to another one of our cousins house. On the way up its like this road with just empty land on the sides and a few abandoned houses. Me and my cousin love exploring abandoned houses so we agree to go in after. Well, we get to the house and we pet their dog while they give us water and biscuits and talk. And we're looking at their chickens when they ask who we came up with. And we've not planned a lie, but I sadly my dad is just at the end of the street and we were on a walk and he let us come say hi so we couldn't stay.

So, we leave and go back to the abandoned houses they don't look very stable so we just look from the outside. So I ask my dad for even more time and while I do that my cousin finds a small cave and a motorbike helmet. Then we hear someone (and its the middle of no where basically) so we decide to run back down to the park.

We run down to this hospital above the park, and we pick up some big sticks because why not. And we're sitting on some stairs catching our breath when I get a phone call. Its from my dad and he's telling us to get back now or he'll come up to get us. So we panic and run like 7 minutes back to the house (with the sticks). Turns out our 20 minutes turned into almost 2 hours.

Lmao sorry for making you read that much oops!

OK BESTIE LEMME READ THIS

LMAOOO POLLY I LOVE THAT THAT WAS AN ADVENTURE

Lmaoo time flies by indeed :)

This gave me so many nostalgic vibes to when I was a kid and I would go running around in parks and shit for HOURS and I was never stressed or anything

Thanks for the ask my dude!!

[lestered]

hey, brother

t (for language), 3.5k

It’s come time for Phil to reintroduce himself to Dan’s family in the proper context, but there’s one member that he’s not entirely confident about connecting with.

-

written for pff’s 2019 bingo fest! checks off “in-laws,” “cereal,” and “communication.”

read on ao3 or under the cut

Phil wakes up too early, like he usually does after spending the night in an unfamiliar bed. Not per his usual, though, he remembers where he is before he even opens his eyes, the soreness in his back an immediate reminder that he’s not at home, settled into a nest of warm grey sheets and cushy pillows in a bed with much better support than the double-size air mattress set up on the floor of Dan’s childhood bedroom.

“Uh, it’s not ideal,” Karen had told them while showing them upstairs, pushing open Dan’s closed bedroom door to reveal a large air mattress taking up the majority of the floorspace. “But setting a bed for Phil on the couch seemed a bit stupid, and expecting you both to cram all of your giant limbs into that tiny single bed… seemed even stupider.” 

Dan had just laughed and shook his head and tossed his bag lightly onto the center of the comforter spread neatly over their makeshift accommodation. “It’s great, mum. Thank you.”

Phil smiles to himself just thinking about it, still not quite ready to open his eyes. He knows it’s not a big deal, but at the same time it is a big deal - them sharing a bed in Dan’s family home, his mum making one up for them to share without even being asked. Phil knows that it means a lot to Dan, that six months later he’s still reeling from such overwhelming support from the people he’d spent most of his life just trying to hide from. Phil’s happy because Dan’s happy and also because it’s what’s right. That just makes him smile wider and roll onto his other side, reaching his arm out and searching for Dan’s warm body to snuggle into.

When his hand lands on nothing but an empty mattress, though, he frowns, and finally opens his eyes.

*

The house is quiet while he putters around upstairs, which he reckons is because it’s not even gone 7am according to his phone, which also has a text from Dan explaining that his Nana’s called him over to her house with an iPad-related technology issue. Unlike when they’re in London, he can’t quite get away with ignoring her early-morning calls when she’s just a few minutes away.

Phil does his best to stay quiet too, because his limbs are long and clumsy and Dan’s house is old with creaky floorboards so it’s truly a concerted effort, but he does manage to make it to the bathroom and back without a racket.

When he gets back, he perches on the bed - the real bed, Dan’s single bed, which seems so foreign and faraway now even though he’s literally right on top of it - and checks to see if Dan’s replied to his and how’s that going for you text.

He has. 

[Dan]: it’s all good she couldn’t connect to the wifi so i reset her router

[Dan]: she’s making breakfast now

Just reading the word breakfast makes Phil’s stomach grumble, and he stares forlornly at his phone screen as if it’ll make a bowl of cereal materialize right in front of him.

It doesn’t, but he does get another text.

[Dan]: have you eaten yet?

He blinks at the message a couple of times. He’d actually thought that he’d wait for Dan to get home to have breakfast with him. But now that Dan’s otherwise occupied… 

[Phil]: Um… no? I didn’t know your grandma was gonna keep you, so I was planning on waiting.

[Dan]: just go get something from the kitchen, you dingus. you’re a big boy, you know how to eat by yourself.

Phil rolls his eyes fondly, but he can’t really ignore the tiny, anxious fluttering in the pit of his stomach, as much as he wants to. He feels kind of stupid sending his next response, but it’s the truth.

[Phil] That’s weird though, it’s not my house. I can’t just like… help myself.

His stomach does another nervous little flip when he sees the three little gray dots pop up on Dan’s side of the screen, then go away again, then pop up again. It’s longer than Dan usually takes to type and it doesn’t take that many words to tell him he’s being daft.

He knows he is. It’s just that stupid anxiety that still crops up every now and then, the kind where he’s scared to make phone calls or answer the door or go to big gatherings and Dan covers him, but he’s not here to do that right now. And he shouldn’t have to be.

When Dan’s message finally pops up, he blows out a deep breath before reading.

[Dan]: i go down to the kitchen and fix myself food all the time when we’re at your parents’ house. i know it’s different here but mum wants you to make yourself at home and so do i so go to the kitchen and get yourself a fucking bowl of crunchy nut, i refuse to come home to see you all grumpy and haggard just because you didn’t have your morning coffee and cereal

Phil has to bite back a smile at that. The idea of getting close to Dan’s family, of making himself comfortable in their space, kind of scares him. He’s pretty sure it scares Dan, too, probably even moreso. But the fact that he wants to try - that he wants them both to try - makes him feel warm inside. 

[Dan]: srsly tho. go eat, i won’t be that much longer and then we can hide out in my room for a little while before lunch

He smiles because alone time with Dan is always a treat even when they’ve only been in others’ company for less than a day, and because Dan’s voice of reason has gone and made him properly hungry, more than he can ignore, so he’s going to satiate himself and he’s going to not worry about it on the way.

*

Phil’s not really sure where to go from here. He doesn’t want to go back up the stairs, because that could accidentally draw attention, and to be caught fleeing from the situation would be embarrassing. 

But, he also doesn’t really want to keep walking into the kitchen.

Karen had told them that Adrian wouldn’t be getting here until this afternoon. 

Phil doesn’t have a problem with him. He’s seen him enough times, had enough courteous chats with him over ten years. It’s kind of weird looking at him though, going on 22 years old, remembering how he’d been been scared shitless to meet him when he was just 12. He’d been scared shitless to meet Dan’s entire family, even though there wasn't anything to be scared about. He was Dan’s good friend, as far as they were concerned, and they were good at keeping up that act, at least around the family - his dad, his mum, his grandparents.

His brother.

He’s not sure if Adrian even particularly cares about him or his relationship with Dan. He does know that out of his entire family, he’d been the one that Dan was the least scared of coming out to. Phil doesn’t know if that’s because the emotional attachment there was less strong than to his mum and grandma, or because he was just younger and more likely to understand, or both.

Phil just doesn’t really know him.

It makes him a little sad. Dan and Martyn are such good friends and Phil loves it, how well Dan slots in with his family. It feels right. 

He has to remind himself all the time that it’s not the same with Dan. That Dan’s family doesn’t mean the same thing to him, that there’s residual fear and anxiety and they’re all still figuring it out with each other as they go and that Phil’s just very, very recently become a real part of it. Sort of. He’s not sure if Dan’s family really knows what to do with him. 

To be fair, he’s not really sure what to do with them either. It’s all new. That’s why spending Christmas with Dan’s family feels so huge, even though they’ve all been acting casual about it. He doesn’t feel casual. He doesn’t think any of them do, but it’s a work in progress.

He thinks back to Karen showing them into Dan’s room the day before.

“Next time you come round, we’ll have a proper double bed. It was probably stupid of me to expect you to fit into that single all by yourself once you hit puberty, anyway.” 

He remembers seeing Dan’s dimple cave in the way it does when he’s holding back a little smile, remembers thanking her when she left them to get settled in and Dan practically tackling him down onto the mattress. Remembers thinking how happy he was to have another safe space, that he could hardly imagine how Dan must be feeling, with that safe space finally being his own family. 

“Oh shit, Phil!”

*

Adrian’s expression once he’s finally turned around from the kitchen counter is startled, and Phil feels startled in return despite having just been stood there, staring like a freak.

He imagines it’s probably a comical sight from the outside - him standing frozen in his flannel pajama bottoms, Friends t-shirt, mismatched socks, glasses and bedhead, opposite Adrian and his oversized button-up shirt and running shorts, which seems to Phil to be an odd combination, but he supposes he can’t judge. His wrist tattoo peeks out from under the cuff, beside where he’s clutching a glass bottle of ketchup in his hand, and a tablespoon in the other.

“Sorry!” He finally manages, once his initial deer-in-headlights reaction wears off, and he takes a couple steps back. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything, I’ll leave you to um…” He glances at the ketchup and tablespoon again. “...Whatever you’re doing.”

He’s about to turn back when Adrian sets his spoon down with a slightly-too-loud clamor. “No, that’s alright! I’m just… I don’t need a lot of room,” he turns and pushes the spoon to the side, along with a small bowl and a handful of other ingredients. He’s still gripping the ketchup very firmly when Phil approaches.

“Right, um,” Phil clears his throat a bit. “I just thought I’d come get some… cereal?” 

He phrases it like a question, even though it’s not, and quickly follows it up. “Dan’s having breakfast over at your nana’s, I guess, so… he said you guys might have Crunchy Nut.”

Adrian just watches as he opens the cupboard directly in front of him, which contains nothing but bowls and glasses. It kind of hits him then, as he’s taking out a bowl, that he doesn’t really know where the Howells keep anything in their kitchen. He doesn’t know his way around their home the way Dan does with the Lesters’.

Different circumstances, he reminds himself.

He doesn’t overthink anymore, because then Adrian’s handing him a box of Crunchy Nut, which he appears to have grabbed from the cupboard on his right. 

“We usually do,” he tells him, before going back to his cluster of ingredients on the counter. “It’s mum’s favorite.”

So that’s where Dan gets it from, he muses.

He thinks about saying as much, but settles instead for a quiet thanks before opening up the box and shaking some into his bowl. He glances over at Adrian while he’s ambling over to put it back in the cupboard, where he seems intently focused on smacking the bottom of the ketchup bottle as he holds it carefully over the tablespoon he’s set out on the counter. 

It’s so uncanny to look at him, even still. He and Dan have always looked alike, but the resemblance as they get older just seems to grow. Adrian still looks more like Karen while Dan looks more like their dad, not that Phil would ever bring that up. It’s just one of those things they know but don’t care to acknowledge, because there’s really no point.

It’s not just appearance. Adrian doesn’t just look like Dan, but he talks a lot like him too, he uses the same awkward body language, hand gestures and finger guns, and he’s got a rather foul mouth. Phil assumes he probably picked that up from Dan when they were kids, who picked it up from Karen, who he’s not sure she picked it up from, as their nana’s rather posh and proper and scolds Dan any time he uses a swear word on Twitter. 

That particular thought comes to him because Adrian’s currently cursing and mumbling under his breath - another habit he shares with Dan - as he tries and fails to get the ketchup out of the bottle. Phil pulls out a drawer and, relieved to find that it’s in fact the silverware drawer, pulls out a spoon before bumping it closed and looking across the counter. 

“Um,” He slides the spoon into his dry cereal. “What are you making?”

Adrian’s head jerks up, as if he’s surprised to see Phil still standing there, before sighing and setting down his bottle of ketchup. 

“Making a glaze for the lentil loaf we’re having tonight,” he tells him, and Phil has to do his best to keep a straight face. He knows that Christmas Eve dinner is going to be fully vegan; it’s a deal Karen had made with their grandma, on the condition that she’d be allowed to cook a supplementary turkey and mashed potatoes with real butter for Christmas dinner. He grins a little to himself, knowing that his presence at Christmas this year was a big reason for such a compromise. He knows that were it up to Karen, Dan, and Adrian, Dan’s grandparents might have spent Christmas stuck in Vegan Hell. He likes having that little bit of camaraderie with them, even if that camaraderie is rooted in questionable ethics. “If I can get the ketchup out of this ridiculous fucking bottle,” he glares at the glass bottle in his hand. “I was just trying to save the whales.”

Phil snorts a little, because that’s so like something Dan would say, before glancing between the bottle and the spoon again. “Have you tried putting it in a bowl first?”

Adrian glances at him curiously, and Phil opens cupboard and pulls out another bowl. 

“Can I?” He asks, and Adrian wordlessly hands him the bottle. He caps it again, shakes it till the ketchup actually slides down to the bottle opening, before uncapping it and smacking a few globs into the bowl. 

“Now just scoop out however much you need, and then you can scrape the excess back into the bottle,” he tells him, and slides the bowl back across the counter. Adrian just stares at it for a second, before breathing out a laugh and dropping his elbows down onto the counter. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so stupid,” he picks up the spoon and measures out one tablespoon into the other bowl, then two, then three. “Thanks,” he adds when he’s finished, glancing back over at Phil as he scrapes the leftovers back, as suggested. Phil just nods. 

“I can take that,” he offers, and Adrian hands the bottle over again. Phil heads over to the fridge, setting the ketchup inside and searching for a moment before pulling out a carton of almond milk and pouring some into his cereal. Adrian’s eyebrows shoot up in what seems to be pleasant surprise. 

“Oh, did Dan finally get you to go vegan too?”

Phil’s confused for a moment, before he actually registers what Adrian’s referencing and he glances at the carton in his hand and quickly sets it back inside the fridge. “Oh, no. No. Not vegan, just lactose intolerant,” he explains awkwardly, and Adrian gives him a slow nod before turning back to his glaze, while Phil takes his first spoonful of cereal. 

“Wait, what do you mean ‘finally’?” Phil asks after a few moments of silence, his spoon suspended halfway between the cereal bowl and his mouth. “Has he been trying?” 

Adrian glances up from where he’s drizzling a bit of carob syrup into his spoon, and purses his lips as if stifling a laugh, the exact same way Dan does. 

“Not actively, I don’t think,” he tells him, setting his syrup to the side and reaching for the balsamic vinegar. “He just complains sometimes that he can’t stick to the vegan diet when you’re always tempting him with animal products.”

Phil holds his gaze for a moment before they both burst out into laughter, him setting his cereal to the side and Adrian doing the same with his vinegar. 

“I’m kidding,” Adrian tells him, leaning his hip against the counter. “He just wants someone to blame for the fact that he loves meat and cheese.”

Phil chuckles and turns back to his cereal, because prolonged eye contact still makes him nervous. “The cheese is all him. If it were up to me we wouldn’t have any in the house, I can’t stand it.”

He takes another spoonful of his cereal and then without really thinking adds, “I did a video taste-testing different kinds once and felt sick for nearly a whole day afterwards.”

Adrian nods, smiles a little, and goes back to his balsamic vinegar. Phil kind of regrets saying anything then, because he’s not sure if YouTube is an okay topic for them to broach. Or social media, or the internet in general. He’s had a number of things he’s wanted to say to Adrian for a little while, many of them along the lines of I’m sorry we kept this huge secret from you for so long, but one of them also being I’m sorry our fans harassed you off the internet, especially when you were just a kid. That one’s been brewing for more than a little while, actually. But he has a feeling he should keep his mouth shut. Some things might be best just left in the past, and it’s not really up to him to decide if this is one of them.

“So anyway-” he starts after a few moments of silence, at the same time that Adrian lifts his head and says, “So you guys-”

They pause at the same time, and laugh awkwardly, and Phil leans back against the counter. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Go ahead.”

Adrian turns back and briefly stares into his bowl of glaze again. He’s still stirring it idly when he looks up to make eye contact. “So you guys have kinda been through a lot together, huh?”

Phil feels a bit of a lump in his throat and a squirming in the pit of his stomach because this is a conversation he’s had. He’s had it with Dan, with Dan’s mum, and even his grandma. But he never really thought anything would come from his brother. He figured they might have gotten up to some heart-to-hearts on their family trip to France earlier in the year, but he wasn’t expecting that to extend to him. 

“Um. Yeah,” he sighs, and drums his fingers on the countertop to release some of the nervous energy. Suddenly Adrian looks so young. Barely younger than Phil was when he met Dan, and that feels like a lifetime ago. When Dan was so full of pain and sorrow and yearning, desperate to get away from the first eighteen years of his life and start anew.

He knows Dan’s life growing up was shitty for reasons besides the homophobic assholes who made his life a living hell at school. 

“You guys too, though,” he finally ventures, hesitantly, questioningly. 

Adrian seems surprised, but not offended, which comes as a relief. 

“Yeah,” he nods and turns back to his bowl of glaze again, beginning to stir again even though it looks thoroughly mixed. “Lots of levels in Portal I couldn’t have beaten without his help.”

That’s not all there is to it, Phil’s painfully aware, but he doesn’t push it. He knows, and he’s sure Adrian knows he knows, and there’s not really any need to go any further. 

And luckily there’s no need to try and think of anything else, because just then they hear the front door swinging open, followed by a couple of happy yips and then Dan walking into the kitchen, bringing with him a gust of cold air and Colin trotting at his heels.

“Oh, good, you found the cereal.” Dan says when he notices the bowl sitting on the counter, and when Adrian’s turned away he rests a hand on the small of Phil’s back and quietly kisses his cheek.

Dan’s lips and nose are cold, but Phil’s cheeks warm up all the same.

He occupies himself with his cereal again, which has gone quite soggy, while Dan reaches into the fridge for some orange juice and then glances over at Adrian’s concoction. 

“Whatcha making there?” He asks, and Adrian smiles brightly. 

“Glaze for the lentil loaf,” he replies, and holds up the spoon. “Wanna taste?” 

Dan strides over, and takes a little lick off the spoon. Phil can tell from his expression that he’s not exactly thrilled, but he nods and gives a thumbs up anyway. 

“Tastes great,” he tells his brother. “Can’t wait for dinner.”

Adrian catches onto the bullshit, because it’s not that hard, meets Phil’s gaze and joins him in a fond eyeroll.

Phil waits for Dan to come back and stand beside him, bumps their shoulders together, and takes another bite of his Crunchy Nut.

-

thanks for reading!