#You might walk down the streets one quiet day and stop in your tracks tho

[what-does-the-moose-say]

Even more BCS posting

Thinking about Walt and Jimmy & Mike's journey towards evil and do feel they are very different. Walt is a mostly standard good guy to worst person alive arc. He starts out mostly a good person. And then he does more and more evil, greedy, horrible acts. By season 4 he is fully Heisenberg. Jimmy and Mike on the otherhand are former criminals when BCS starts, they have been for a long time and have both come to ABQ to try live different lives. Jimmy and Mike both try to avoid more crime, not that they are very good at it, but they try their hardest. Walt run towards Heisenberg with the speed of light while Jimmy & Mike are dragged across the floor with their nails scratching it. They try to hold on to their souls for almost the entire series before they finally give up near the end of season 6. Jimmy when Howard dies & Kim leaves and Mike he meets Nachos Father. This is a very long way to say that I feel the difference is that Walt gets corrupted, he changes for the worse while Jimmy & Mike however decays. They live through horrible after horible experiences that hacks away parts of them until there is nothing left but shells. They dont really changes, they become less than they are. Their souls rots away. They decay back to their old self only this time a thousands times worse.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol. 5: Mukami Yuma [Track 2]

Original title: ユーマのいる教室

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 5 Mukami Yuma [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: Translating this CD alongside Yuma’s MB route is giving me a culture shock because it is almost like two entirely different guys. It really shows just how much the franchise has changed compared to its earlier days. (That’s saying a lot considered the MMB CDs aren’t even particularly ‘fluffy’) I know some people prefer the darker/more intense versions of the boys but I think I personally would rather have this Yuma. The more aggressive one would probably kill me just by poking me with his little finger. xD

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: The Classroom where Yuma is

*Scribble scribble*

“Argh...Aah...? Ugh.”

*Flip*

You walk up to Yuma, asking what he’s doing.

“...Aah? Oh, it’s you. What, ya ask? I’m doin’ yesterday’s homework. When I told the teacher I didn’t do it, he wouldn’t let me go home until I finish this shit. I could just ignore it and leave anyway, but then Ruki’s gonna give me an earful.”

*Scribble scribble*

“I’m copyin’ his right now.”

You tell him he shouldn’t do that.

“It’s fine! If I try and do it myself, it’s gonna take a fuckin’ eternity.”

You ask if he will go home later then.

“Nah. I’m almost done. So wait there, ‘kay? I’ve been asked to run an errand too, so let’s walk home together.”

You nod.

“Ah, speakin’ of which! Kou doodled yer face and it turned out so funny and ugly, I’ll show it to ya as well!”

*Flip flip*

*Thud*

“Uhm...Where did it put it again...? It’s gone...!? Where did it go!? I could have sworn I put it in here...”

You tell off Yuma for making a mess.

“Aah...? There’s stuff ‘round my desk? Oh shut up. It’s not that bad it’s worth cleanin’ up. Besides, when I run out of space, I just use the desk of the dude sittin’ next to me so who cares.”

You look at the desk next to his, frowning. 

“Yeah. ‘Bout half of the stuff on that desk is mine as well. I borrow it whenever I’m runnin’ low on space.”

You shake your head in disapproval. 

“Who cares? They always let me borrow it with a smile on their face.”

You offer to clean it up.

“Why should I clean it up? Just forget ‘bout that guy’s desk.”

You insist.

“Who cares ‘bout some other person’s desk? Cleanin’ up is a big pain in the ass...”

You start cleaning it up yourself.

*Rustle rustle*

“Didn’t I just tell ya it’s fine? Why are ya so worried ‘bout some other dude?”

Yuma leans in close. 

“You’re my woman, right? In that case, don’t be thinkin’ ‘bout anythin’ or anyone but me. ...Or are ya tryin’ to butter up to this guy, hopin’ to seduce him afterwards? Am I not enough to satisfy ya?”

You shake your head. 

“Then just leave it be. It pisses me off so stop cleanin’.”

*Rustle*

“Besides...You haven’t forgotten ‘bout our lil’ bet, right? I said I’d tease ya until ya start voluntarily beggin’ for my fangs, right? Are ya sure ya should leave yer back wide open like this?”

You flinch.

“You’ve realized? What I’m gonna do to ya now, that is.”

He runs his hands across your back.

“I’ll punish ya for worryin’ ‘bout some other guy. A penalty to ensure ya won’t ever pull this sorta shit again.”

You try and break free from his grip. 

*Rustle rustle*

“...Ugh. No point in strugglin’. I’m holdin’ ya from behind after all. No way I’m lettin’ ya go.”

*Rustle*

“Come on. Put yer hands on the desk.”

*Thud*

“Well then...Where should I suck ya? For example...How ‘bout I latch onto this throat over here?”

*Rustle rustle*

“No? Then would ya prefer yer legs? ...Like yer thighs, the softest part where my fangs would just sink right in.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Also...From the groin (1) would be nice as well. Pretty sure I’d be able to indulge in plenty of sweet, delicious blood.”

*Rustle*

"...And it’s quite the embarrassin’ place. However, suckin’ yer blood while yer face is turnin’ red from shame would be simply irresistable.”

You protest.

“Aah? Ya don’t want me to suck from yer legs either? Ya sure are selfish, tellin’ me ‘no’ this whole time...It has to be a punishment, remember? Geez, it can’t be helped. Come on, face this way.”

You turn your head towards Yuma.

“...And then, get on top of me.”

*Thud*

*Rustle rustle*

“Make sure to keep yer arms wrapped ‘round my back, ‘kay? If not, you’ll fall from the chair.”

You ask Yuma what he is doing. 

“I got tired of yer whinin’, so I’m gonna suck ya gently like ya want. Besides...If it feels good, it might actually be harder on ya. By the way...Yer body has gotten really heated. I haven’t even sucked ya yet, but you’ve gotten quite worked up. One bite might just push ya over the edge (2), don’t ya think? Come on...I’ll suck from yer nape. Ya better focus on the sensation of my fangs sinkin’ into yer flesh...”

Yuma bites you.

“Mm...”

*Sluuuurp*

“Nn...”

*Sluuuurp*

“ーー Haah! Just as I thought...Those are some hella sweet cries. We’ve only just gotten started...I’ll be takin’ my sweet time suckin’ yer blood...”

You whimper softly.

“Hehe. Ya can’t get enough of the thought of that, can ya? Even if ya keep quiet...I can tell by yer expression. Well...Don’t ya think it’s ‘bout time ya start beggin’ for it yerself? Tell me that ya want my fangs. Or else...I won’t ever let ya go.”

You shake your head.

“Che...Ya still won’t say it? You’re so damn persistent. In that case, this place is up next...”

*Rustle*

“I’ll suck from yer wrist so ya get a good view. Pretty sure this’ll make ya realize just how badly yer body craves me, whether ya like it or not.”

Yuma bites your wrist.

*Sluuuurp*

“Nn...”

You pull out the hourglass.

*Cling*

“...Haah? ...Aah? The fuck’s this sound? Ah! Ya turned back time again, didn’t ya!? ...Fuck!”

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

You are running down the street.

“...Oi! How long ya gonna keep on runnin’ for!?”

Yuma catches up to you.

“...Woah there! Gotcha! Ya made a run for it as soon as we rewinded, we’ve made it all the way to the city!”

You try and explain.

“No ‘buts!’ ...No, whatever. I’ve kind of lost interest, so we’ll continue our lil’ game later. ...For today, I guess we can just do our shoppin’ and head home. Come on, I brought yer bag along as well.”

*Rustle*

You grab your bag and thank him.

“Haah...”

The two of you start walking.

“That bein’ said, this challenge is takin’ longer than I expected. I was convinced ya’d bend in no time but you’re surprisingly sturdy? Well, you’ve been usin’ the hourglass tho so it isn’t really fair. Without that lil’ thing, the score would be long settled by now.”

You protest. 

“Whatever. Anyway, let’s head to the supermarket.”

You ask him what you have to buy.

“Ingredients for today’s dinner. Also some seasonings. I’m droppin’ by the pharmacy as well. Azusa’s runnin’ low on bandages so we gotta stock up on some new ones. Also...I wanna look for some cotton gloves as well.”

You raise a brow, asking if he really needs those. 

“Not for me, but tiny ones for ya. I’d be convenient to have them layin’ ‘round for whenever ya help out in the garden, right?”

You agree, smiling.

“...No need to thank me. Come on, let’s get goin’.”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 付け根 or ‘tsukene’ is always a difficult word to translate for me. It is basically the ‘root’ of your leg, being the part where it connect to the crotch & hips.

[justasimplesinner]

Christmas fluff with Jonathan Crane

this is a bday present to the one and only @froppydeloppy i hope you’ll enjoy it darl! i tried to make it extra fluffy, but - because i’m a dumb bitch - there’s a sprinkle of angst. with happy ending tho!

***

          Stressful - that's the only way to describe what was going on right now. Everyone was in a rush, some buying late Christmas presents, some just panicking over every little imperfection in their perfect little world. Streets were filled with busy crowds, bright lights and loud noise consisting of but not limited to shouts, cars honking and children screaming bloody murder in the best of ways. It could get overwhelming sometimes, this whole Christmas frenzy going on all around the world. But in your home? It was calm. 

Supper was almost ready, batches of cookies laid out on the coffee table along with a bottle of wine, and the smell of hot cocoa filled the room. The fireplace was burning, some of the decorations you put days back shining with the firelight and dim but colorful light coming from your little tree. It wasn't big or fancy or bright-colored enough to cause an epilepsy attack, but it was lovely and perfect as it was - especially since you decorated it with him. 

Jonathan was currently sitting in the armchair he claimed as his, long legs stretched out, book in hand, in an oversized turtleneck sweater and you'd lie if you said it wasn't the best view. The way light reflected in his glasses and the gentle glow that got caught on his sharp cheekbones, boney, slender fingers unconsciously caressing the edge of his thick volume - that habit more often than not led to hundreds of little papercuts littering his skin, a quiet, muttered "shit!" as he put the "wounded" digit up to his lips to ease the pain.

It was the little things about him that always brought a smile to your face - or any things, really, as long as they were about him.

– How much longer do you plan to stare at me? – he drawled from his spot, a small smile clear in his voice, as your own grin got that little bit wider at hearing his nasally voice.

– As long as it takes for you to finally pay attention to me. – you mused playfully, resting your chin on your hand. You never ceased your staring. He never got back to his book. 

Instead, he carefully placed an old receipt he used as a bookmark between the pages, and with utter gentleness closed it shut then put it down on the pile next to him. Half of his lanky body leaned out of the armchair as he copied your position and looked you in the eyes with that smirk you'd never get enough of.

– Your dinner is going to burn. – amusement laced his words as his eyes bore into your own. His gaze was always intense, always calculating but never cold - not to you, at least. You liked to believe that the way he looked at you was with love, but with him, it was hard to tell. It has, after all, been almost three years and he still had trouble saying it out loud.

But you knew he cared, and he cared deeply. Deep enough to sit here with you, today, and let you pamper him for once. Deep enough to be comfortable with you, let himself relax and stop being paranoid for once in his life.

– It's your dinner too, jackass. You promised you'd stay for once. – you chuckled, scrunching your nose up at him before kissing the bridge of his own and getting up. You really had to check on that dinner - it'd be a shame if all the hard work you put in would be wasted just because you couldn't stop staring at the wanted criminal you were currently harboring in your house.

– And I intend to keep it. – it was unlike him to spill out reassurances so quickly and so honestly, but that didn't mean you didn't appreciate it. You were surprisied, yes, but ever grateful as well. The Christmas spirit was getting even to the biggest of grumps, it seemed.

– You better. I can't eat everything by myself and I made pumpkin pie for you. – you threatened jokingly, heading to the kitchen and it was a damn shame you didn't see the lovestruck smile on his face. But he only smiled like that when you weren't looking, after all.

          Taking out the meat from the oven, and putting a finishing touch on everything went smoothly and it didn't take long before every dish was placed on the table, cutlery got laid out and glasses were full of wine. You were just taking off your apron in the kitchen, about to join Jonathan and finally eat the goodies you made but his lanky frame blocking the doorway stopped you in your tracks.

God, he was so tall he had to lean down to even get through the door.

– What is it? – you asked, coming up to him, but he never stepped back from you like he usually did, didn't even budge and his eyes never strayed away from your own, that piercing gaze looking right into your soul. And once he deemed you near enough, you watched him straighten and if you weren't so close his forhead would be obscured by the doorframe.

It reminded you of the way he used to hit his head on the top of it the first few times he came over to your place. And it was only when you chuckled and slightly leaned your head back that you understood what he seemingly wanted to tell you without using a single word.

There was a mistletoe just above you. Funny, you didn't remember putting it there.

– You absolute sap. – you laughed, shaking your head as his smirk only grew in size and he leaned down, a little awkwardly since he insisted on keeping his hands in his pockets, to just a little above your eye level.

– Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic at heart, hm? – you almost snorted right in his face. Both of you knew he hated Romanticism and the mere idea of romance all together. Of course, what you two had definitely wasn't platonic, and you did love each other in a romantic sense (you hoped), but that didn't change anything.

– More like romantically hopeless. – and with that, you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, feeling him sigh into the kiss. Your noses bumped and he almost lost his balance but it was perfect nonetheless. 

Too bad you didn't have time for that since the food was getting cold.

          The dinner was pleasant. It didn't really feel special at all, but that's what made it even more perfect - Jonathan wasn't here, with you, because it was the right thing to do (pha! as if he cared about what was right or wrong), but because he wanted to be here. He wasn't here to celebrate anything, he was here for you and for you only and that in itself was the best Christmas gift you could ever wish for.

And speaking of gifts...

– This is way too big for me to be comfortable with it. – he complained, taking the carefully wrapped box from under the tree. You insisted on having the presents there - it was a tradition, one Jon probably never practiced, not even as a child. It might not bring him as much joy as it would to a six year old, but you wanted this to be the best Christmas in his miserable life.

– Oh, it's just the packaging. Stop complaining. – you laughed, rolling your eyes and sitting down on the floor next to where he was kneeling. After giving you a funny look, he sat down on the carpet as well, partly crossing his long legs so as not to kick the tree over.

That'd be a story to tell, for sure.

– If this is over twenty dollars, I'm not accepting it. – he warned, sending you a serious look but you only shook your head, pushing at his arm.

– Just open it, dammit! – you wanted to get this over with, because - despite everything - you were still nervous he wouldn't like it. Maybe it was too obvious? Maybe he already had it? Maybe he'd think you half-assed the whole thing? Good lord, it was stressful. Especially watching those spindly, skilled fingers carefully unwrapping the thing, almost teasingly slow. You didn't put it besides him to make you more nervous on purpose.

After all, you were scared. Scared of what he'd think. And that's what usually gets him going.

You almost swore his hands shook when he was lifting the lid of the box, as if he was expecting something to blow up in his face. Ah yes, the paranoia...

– A scarf. – he muttered and boy, wasn't it a careful observation on his part! You laughed quietly, heartbeat slowing a little. Of course it was a scarf, what else? But it was only a part of the present, too. He was in for a surprise.

– Well, I got tired from hearing your larynx screaming for help because you walk around with your neck bare. – you said with a wide smile, and it'd be a lie to say you weren't delighted to see him beaming back at you – C'mon, take it out! – you rushed and it was then that he froze as he tried to take it out and felt something... hard beneath it.

– For God's sake, there's more? I only got you one thing! – he whined loudly like a baby, and you just huffed, snuggling up closer to him to carefully watch his reaction as he got to the second part of your present.

– What can I say? I like to spoil. – you mused with a smile, cheek pressed to his shoulder but that only made him get more defensive.

– I'm not some child to be spoiled.

Well, from your point, he certainly looked like one.

With a nudge, you encouraged him to lift up the scarf and see what's under. And good lord when he ceased all movement along with his breathing, you had to admit you were kind of worried. Did you fuck up? Or did you take his breath away?

You watched his hands reluctantly reach inside the box and pull out that old Edgar Allan Poe tomme you had to hunt on the market. It was awfully hard to get your hands on the vintage collector's version with practically all his poems inside, and manage to restore it so it wasn't falling apart, but it was all worth that look of wonder on his face just now.

You didn't fuck up. You definitely didn't fuck up.

– It's... hardcover. – was all he muttered and you almost burst out laughing. Christ, that man was an absolute dork. Your dork.

– And collector's edition, too! I thought you'd like to have this on your shelf. – you gloated a little, puffing your chest with pride but were immediately stopped in your tracks when his lips suddenly landed on yours, pushing with force as his fingers clutched the book in his hands. 

Oh yes, that scavenging hunt was definitely worth it.

You cupped his cheeks gently, thumbs trailing over those razor sharp cheekbones as you kissed back and at the same time it felt like eternity and like it was way too soon when he pulled back from you.

– Thank you. – you felt that mutter against your lips before he leaned back all the way, eyes dragging back to his gift. Why were you even doubting yourself? You knew he'd love it. Once you took the time to get to know him properly, it wasn't that hard to know what he enjoyed most and what least.

– I'm afraid I can't live up to that with what I got you. – ah, there he went with all his self-doubt as if you didn't cherish everything he ever gave you.

– We'll see. – you said with a smirk, jumping under the tree to pull out your own gift. You weren't nearly as gentle while opening it - it wasn't often that Jonathan got you gifts and you were excited beyond imagination to see what he came up with.

          You really didn't want to admit it, but he was kind of right. You didn't know why you felt almost... disappointed when you opened the little box. But it was fine. It was practical and very well thought-out. Very useful during any emergencies.

It just... Well, he gave you the same thing almost every month and you thought... God, you were ungrateful, weren't you?

– For the latest batch? – you asked for confirmation, holding the syringe with that almost neon-y, bright blue liquid in your hands, not once tearing your eyes away from it. He cared for you and that's why he got you this - because no matter how much he enjoyed causing terror, he never wanted to harm you and wanted you to be safe.

So it was perfect. Yes, absolutely perfect.

– Mhmm. – he purred in confirmation and if you weren't so absorbed in your own thoughts, maybe you'd hear him shuffle carefully to sit behind you. And maybe he wouldn't have to press his lips to the back of your head for you to notice his hand that was holding something right in front of your face.

– There's also this, but that's just an addition. – he said nonchalantly and then your eyes landed on the necklace tangled around his fingers, pure silver crow skull dangling in front of your nose with the smallest, but most shining of gems ingrained in the middle of it's little forhead.

– Oh-... my god?! It's beautiful, Jonathan! – you part squealed, part laughed in utter joy as your hands came up to the pendant, gentle as ever as you cupped it in your palm and he let the chain slowly slither into your other hand.

And he must've picked up on that well-hidden relief, too, since he laughed in your ear, nuzzling your temple as he said:

– I know I'm a bastard, but not that much of a bastard.

With that stunt he pulled, you weren't entirely sure.

– Thank you. – you breathed, discarding that comment aside and leaning back into him, feeling his heartbeat pounding. Oh, so he was nervous too, huh? Served him well for tricking you like this.

– No, thank you. – he muttered, and it felt so... heavy coming from him that you had to turn your head around on his shoulder to look him in the eye. You immediately knew what he meant.

– You don't have to thank me for spending time with you. I love it, and I love you, Jon. – it was almost sad, seeing him averting his eyes right after you said that. You'd never get him used to hearing it, to knowing that there was actually someone out there that could love him like you did. It got tiring, sometimes - that constant doubt, the trust issues, and especially that paranoia of his, but it was a part of him and you loved it as much as the rest.

You just hoped some day he could accept it, too. And maybe, just maybe... say it back for once.

–  I know, I know, it's just... – he decided to ramble instead, and you let him – I've never really had a "nice" christmas. Of course, there was this one time Harley insisted on a "rogues get-together", and I even partly enjoyed that evening, not counting in Nigma's blabbering and Joker's... being himself, but... it's different with you. I don't mean that in the bad way. It's... I like it.

It's not like you cried a little and like he clung onto you for dear life while he was saying it all. It's not like you both stayed tangled like that on the floor long enough for your asses to hurt. No, of course not. 

          You were almost asleep, lulled by his slow, steady breathing and his heartbeat under your ear as his arm pressed you to his side while he read his newest volume, when he pressed his face into your hair, nuzzling a little.

– I love you too, you know that, right? 

Well... now you did.

Last thing you remembered was hearing his quiet chuckle when you squeezed him tight like a vice before falling asleep in his arms.

[alley-catz-vs-daybreakers]

Only Fools Rush In

AC & DB drama track

Happy Birthday Gentaro! 🎉

Leading up to April 1st, a pair of Division leaders find them in a rather humorous mishap. However, due to a certain someone’s desire for inspiration, all six members are brought into the chaos. Meanwhile, the amused author looks on.

Kosuke: Yumeno-sensei? This is Furuhata Kosuke, you wanted to meet with me about a book cover?

Gentaro: Apologies, you seem to have the wrong person you see, for I am merely a poorly paid cosplayer. Meant to promote the recent book of a different author, titled “Tales of Genji.”

Kosuke: Yumeno-sensei, that is a book most know already know by name. Regardless, do you have any ideas for how you’d like for your cover to look?

Gentaro: I have no preference, though I would prefer it to an extravagant and bright one to catch eyes on the selves as it is different from my usual stories. A stand out story must have a stand out cover after all.

Kosuke: R-right. So may I see the overview to get an idea?

Gentaro: I am not yet done with that actually. Though I may give it to you in a few days. The first of April perhaps?

Kosuke: Yes. That works.

Gentaro: Also, about that cover.

Kosuke: Yes?

Gentaro: That was a lie. A simple design will do.

Kosuke: A-Ah. I see. . .

Gentaro: I will be off then. do enjoy the cake.

Kosuke: Wait what?!

Sever: Here you go sir. This was paid in advance.

[Door closes]

Gentaro: Now then, to see what unfolds.

Gentaro’s story: A young lady is to meet with her friend at a cafe when a stranger takes a seat beside her. He pretends to be her boyfriend as he claims he is being followed by numerous admirers. Along the way, they bond and find they went to the same school. Her friends however do not like him and in the end they must separate. Along the way, there are hints as to something must be off. Turns out, the man was indeed a highschool classmate whom she had a rush with, but one who was ostracized by her friends and moved away. Her visit to the cafe is for the last place she saw him, where he rejected her before he left.

Gentaro: Such an tragic tale, to feel the stings of love is truly a misfortune thing—

Emiko: There you are! Yumeno-sama! ~ ♡

Gentaro: Speaking of. 

Gentaro: I know not of this Yumeno you speak of young lady. I am merely a poor, homeless young man who has spent the very last sum of his money to buy these outdated clothes and some bitter coffee. 

Gentaro: Do you really not have anything better to do than disturb the unfortunate?

Emiko: Huh? Homeless? But you’re said-ooooh! You’re lying right? Sorry Yumeno-sama but cha can’t fool me! ~ ☆

Emiko: So you found me ‘cause Ramuda needed a favor right? Where is he? Is he hiding? 

Gentaro: About that, Ramuda’s not here, that was a lie. I just said that to get you here. For an informant you’re not very cautious are you? 

Emiko: Hey! I can be cautious! You just don’t seem suspicious. But why do you need me Yumeno-sama? Doooo you want me to find someone? 

Gentaro: You’re close but not quite. I actually need you to accompany someone for awhile. They’re waiting inside for you right now. Oh and take this with you, [hands slip of paper] the table number is on the back. But do not open it until you meet him.

Emiko: An escort job? I don’t think I’ve done that before, but it sounds like fun. Okay, you can leave it to me! Bye bye Yumeno-sama! ~ ♡

[walks inside the cafe as Gentaro leaves]

Emiko: Whooooa~ It feels really homey in here, so cute! 

Emiko: Hmmmm, table #6. I wonder what this guy is li—

Kosuke: ? ? ? 

Emiko: ? ? ? 

Emiko: Kosuke! [glomps him] Hello! What’s up! What’cha eating? Is it yummy? Can I have some!

Kosuke: Ah! Emiko-san! Um, yes, this is very good, and you can certainly have some if you’d like. [slides over plate]

Emiko: Really? Thank you! ~ ♡

Kosuke: Why are you here by the way? Do you have business with Ramuda-san?

Emiko: Well I actually owe Ramuda a favor, but I guess Yumeno-sama’s the one giving me a job today. What about you?

Kosuke: Ah! I had a meeting with Yumeno-sensei about a book cover of his. It seems that Ramuda-san recommended me to him.

Emiko: Cool cool! ~ ☆ Then that makes this way easier, ‘cause you’re actually my assignment today. Yumeno-sama said I have to escort you somewhere.

Kosuke: Escort. . .me? To where?

----------

Natsuki: I don’t get why you had to drag me along with you.

Haruto: Because an unknown number told me about where Ko-chan was and he might have a stalker.

Natsuki: This makes us the stalkers you numbnut.

Haruto: Dude, looks like he’s on a date with that cutesy Harajuku leader girl. . .

Natsuki: What?!

----------

Seiichi: Look I’m sure she’s fine. Emiko’s a tough girl, she can handle herself.

Hiroshi: That much is clear. But she’s not one to run off with a client without blabbing about it first. Plus whoever called us here clearly has ulterior motive, it could be them.

Seiichi: They did sound pretty sketchy, but it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with befo—

Seiichi: Dude, look at that window. That cafe over there!

Hiroshi: Yes, it’s just a cafe. What’s so special about—Is that her? With, Akihabara’s leader??

Seiichi: Wait is she on a date?!

----------

[they opened up Gentaro’s paper in suprise]

Emiko: . . .

Kosuke: . . .

Kosuke: . . . “Have an enjoyable date?”. . . Oh. . . This was a setup. . . What do we do?! I mean- you’re getting paid for this and I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get money but- why?! You’re like a sister!

Emiko: Eeeeeh?! A date! Like a date date! But you’re like my big brother! I don’t want you to have to pay for this. 💦 Plus I’ve never been on a date before! Ramuda are you in on this too?!

Kosuke: Ahhhhhhh. . . this is really bad! What do we do?! Does just hanging out here count?!

Emiko: I-I don’t know! Maybe! *turns beet red* U-umm. . . . . . . . . *goes quiet & looks down*

Kosuke: I’m not really the type to use swear words, but. . .

----------

Haruto: Hey, Natsu. I think Kosuke’s actually flirting with her. She’s blushing like crazy. (whistles) who knew Ko-chan could do such a thing.

Natsuki: You must be seeing things, besides, finish your food. We need to go, I don’t have all day.

——

Seiichi: Are they actually flirting?? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that embarrassed.

Hiroshi: Hmph, together or not that fiend better not try anything.

Seiichi: Well, if this is really the client then maybe we should stay out of it.

Hiroshi: *sighs* I suppose you’re right, but I still want to know about that number—. . . Don’t look now, but do try to hold your temper.

Seiichi: Oi what temper! What are you looking at anyways? Huh? . . . It’s the other guys from Akihabara!

Hiroshi: I thought I told you to hold your temper. 💦 Now you’ve given us away.

Natsuki: Oh look, we’re just a squad of stalkers.

Haruto: Natsu! Don’t call us that!

Seiichi: He he he, stalker squad. Not bad coming from you losers!

Hiroshi: Well that’s one way to start things off. If I may add, what exactly are you two doing here.

Natsuki: My little brother got a text telling him where Kosuke was with a photo. He got scared and came over. Judging from things though, we were all just chess pieces for someone’s amusement.

Haruto: Yeah! It was a creepy message tho!

Natsuki: And I was dragged along, though I believe that if a certain someone thought things through, he could have reasoned that Kosuke is more than capable of defending himself.

Hiroshi: Hmm. Unfortunately, I’ll have to agree with you. We got a call not too long ago from an unknown saying Emiko was helping a friend. They too sent us a picture of where she was, at this very location.

Seiichi: So does that mean someone’s stalking them both? More importantly, are they really dating?!

Hiroshi: I can hardly see that as more important, but it seems we have two mysteries to solve.

Natsuki: That implies us four working together.

Haruto: Awww! Give em a little chance!

Natsuki: Don’t you dare go a tirade about going with the flow and disregarding everything else.

Haruto: I don’t do that! Much. . .

Seiichi: *whispers* Oh great, this must be my lucky day.

Hiroshi: Enough Seiichi, it appears we have no choice. However, do try to keep your brother on a short leash, boy.

Natsuki: Same goes for you old man, except this time it’s your ward.

Haruto: Geeze Natsu, you’re real riled up.

Natsuki: Oh. I’m sorry, not my fault the geezer’s insufferable.

Hiroshi: Right back at you.

Seiichi: Tch. You guys are one to talk! Especially that barking dog of yours!

Natsuki: If you want to lump us together then either stop calling me a child, or call yourself one.

Haruto: Rude! I ain’t a dog! Though they are really nice and fun to play with. . . so. . .

Hiroshi: So the little mocking bird finally speaks. Truly an incredible sight.

Seiichi: Pfffft ha ha ha! Are you really that dumb! You know I’m trashing ya right!

Natsuki: Last time I checked, it’s not me who’s constantly stuck in rut. And also, next time, try to choose a bird species that wasn’t helpful in Darwin’s theory of evolution hm?

Haruto: Hey! Aren’t you a bit too young to go trash talking everyone? Like I dunno, wait for like a competition of somethin’ I guess. Throwing hands isn’t the only way to solve your problems kid.

[cafe doors burst open]

Emiko: Wait wait please don’t fight! What’s going on out here!

Kosuke: This is in public! Please be careful!

Alley Catz: ! ! !

DayBreakers: ! ! !

Emiko: *tearing up* Why are you guys fighting about noooooow! This is embarrassing! ~

Seiichi: Not this again! 😰 P-Please don’t cry.

Hiroshi: Y-Yes, forgive the intrusion m’lady.

Kosuke: I certainly look forward to your excuse as to why you’re practically fighting on the streets.

Natsuki: . . . Haruto

Haruto: u-um... I uhh, was scared?

Emiko: What have I told you guys about starting fights? I can tell you started it too, bullies. Bleeeeeh! *sticks out tongue*

Kosuke: How does one. . .nevermind. Scared for what.

Haruto: Your safety duh! Some creep sent a pic of you and your location. And now we come to see you on a date!

Hiroshi: Right, we’re here for that very same reason. Someone called us claiming they knew where you were and we thought you might be in danger.

Seiichi: I knew you were fine but we didn’t know you were on a date with the beanpole!

Kosuke: Wait! No! It’s not a date! I was here on business!

Natsuki: Stop letting him call you a beanpole first.

Emiko: It is not a date! At least not a real one . . . *blushes* Look I’ll explain later ok! Plus, Kosuke’s not a beanpole, he’s cute just the way he is Seiichi!

Seiichi: That’s not what I meant. 💦

Kosuke: Oh! I don’t find anything offensive in that! It’s just a nickname!

Natsuki: Where’s your pride and self presevation?

Haruto: I think we all know where that is Natsu.

Natsuki + Haruto: Nonexistent.

Kosue: *blushes* (mumbles) I’m not that bad about it. . .

Emiko: *blushes* A-anyways, go home you two! Or else. . o-or else. . . Just go! And no more stalking!

-----------

Kosuke: hm? A package? Oh! The summary! 

Kosuke: “Ruby Chocolate. Brought to a cafe, Aiko meets her first love on a whim, only to find their lives have been intertwined for years. However, her friends dissaproval will test their relationship.”

Kosuke: . . . Well, it is my job.

-----------

Emiko: Yay! Package for me! Wait, I didn’t order a book. Did I?

Emiko: “Ruby Chocolate” “Brought to a cafe, Aiko meets her first love on a whim, only to find their lives have been intertwined for years. However, her friends dissaproval will test their relationship.”

Emiko: Aww how cute. This is from. . . Yumeno-sama! *blushes* Wait a second he really did set us up!

-----------

Gentaro: *sipping tea* What a wonderful birthday present I have given myself.

[whatsseobb]

Something Old, Something New (Crystal x Gigi Fanfic) - Chapter 12

AO3 Link

[A/N: Again, I am really grateful to everyone who has ever read this work of mine. I appreciate all the likes and the comments you have sent me. You all are the best. I love writing this fic so much and seeing you all enjoy it means so much to me. Thank you! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. You can message me or go to the AO3 link and leave a comment there so I’ll know what you think of this. Your comments brighten up my day. Again, thank you! Love you!! ❤️️ ]

Synopsis: Crystal finds an enchanting jewelry box from the antique shop. Day by day, she discovers different journal entries hidden inside the box. Where is it coming from? What exactly is the music box? Most importantly, who is G?

Chapter Twelve - The Portrait 

Two weeks have passed and there was not a day that Crystal drove to Clayton to look for Gigi. The first week was desperate. She stayed in the same area they were supposed to be meeting in hopes that her lover might have just forgotten the exact date of their rendezvous.  It was obviously unsuccessful. For the second week, she drove around the city taking a chance that anyone passing by might be or knew where her lover might have been. She was slowly losing determination and at the end of the second week, she would just go back to the same meeting place and wait there. She didn’t passed up any chance to write a note to Gigi. She made sure she tells her where she was currently but to no avail. Her presence was always missed. There were no replies nor any sign of her.

 “Crys, you need to stop at one point. Look at you. You need rest.” Jaida pushed her friend down to sit down on her bed as they all gathered to comfort her. During the days that she was roaming around the city, her friends took turns to accompany her, also to make sure she wouldn’t get lost as well. They never left her side.

“No. What if she turns up? What if I missed her?”

“It has been weeks, Crystal. Wake up.”

The four friends all gathered in Crystal’s bedroom, snacks and drinks all over as they tried to console their downhearted friend. It was a cold winter noon and it surely was felt inside the room.

Empty snack wrappers, drink bottles, pizza and tissue boxes occupied her bedroom floor. Clothes were all over the place as Crystal just picked up and threw her clothes before going back to search for Gigi. Even though her friends helped clean it up, as the next day came, it would just go back to the same messy bedroom.

The three took turns in accompanying Crystal during the evening. They would often find her writing messages and putting it in her music box or staring at the large portrait that the young lady made of her. She was pitiful, to say the least.

 “Should I look for Nicolette or Rose? They are her friends. Maybe they’ll know what happened.” The teenager rushed to get her laptop and tried to look for the names of her friends but they were impossible to find. It must’ve been a common name back in their days.

“I should drive to where Gigi lived before. What if she wasn’t able to leave? I’ll do that tomorrow. Come with me, Jaida.”

“Don’t you think you are just wasting your time? I mean, we believe that Gigi exists and we believe all your stories. But take a look at it. She hasn’t shown up even once nor gave you any reply.” Heidi chimed in as she was putting a warm damp towel on Crystal’s forehead to comfort her.

“But she said she will be waiting for me.” The curly-haired teenager lied flat on her bed, tears at the corner of her eyes as she looked at the ceiling, holding on to the last letter that her girlfriend sent her. They had an agreed meeting place, she was sure that she would turn up but she didn’t.

“It has been 60 years for her… Don’t you th-“ Rock was stopped in her tracks when Jaida nudged her by the elbow, signaling her to quit talking. Her friends were all thinking of the same thing. It really had been decades for Gigi, she might’ve forgotten about it or something else might have happened to her, they hoped not.

“Don’t I think what? Tell me.” Crystal rushed back up and was about to advance to Rock when her two friends calmly kept her back. Tears came rolling down her eyes as she went back to sit on top of her bed. She covered her face, her shoulders slumping down as she let out all of her emotions.

“Oh Crystal.” Wrapping their arms around their weeping friend, they all murmured comforting words to her.

“I… I didn’t even get to tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That she means so much to me. That I love her this much.” She crawled into a ball as she embraced her knees closer to her chest, burying her face on it. “Why won’t she come meet me? Did she run away from me? I thought we both feel the same.”

“You need answers, Crys. We understand that.” Heidi took a deep breath as she looked at Jaida and Rock who nodded in unison. “What if… you go back to where it all started?”

“What do you mean, Heidi?” Crystal glanced at her friend, her left eyebrow raised slightly higher.

“Jackie’s thrift shop. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll find your answers there.”

 “Good afternoon, girls!” The owner of the shop glanced at the door as the bell chimed, seeing the four teenagers entering. She greeted them with her usual cheerful voice even though she was busy doing something. She immediately went back to stacking the boxes that just arrived back to her storage area.

“Let’s just go back home.” Holding Jaida’s arm, she tugged her back towards the door. Crystal’s face was dark and gloomy, her eyes lifeless.

“Oh, Ms. Crystal! It has been awhile.” Jackie continued bringing in another box coming from the front of the shop. She was followed by a young lady, her brunette locks from the back of her head were the ones Crystal noticed.  

“We’ll just be around, Crys. If you need us, just text us.” Rock patted her friend’s shoulder before going with the other girls. Heidi gave her a slight push towards the owner, encouraging her to find her long lost answers.

“Ms. Genevieve, thanks a lot for all these items.”

“No worries. I actually wanted to get rid of them but Granny insisted on selling them in a thrift shop instead. She said that maybe someone might find good use for these.” The young lady offered a kind smile to the owner before putting down the box she was carrying. It was full of old trinkets and knick-knacks, ranging from figurines to desk clocks and a bunch more.

The teenager strolled around the shop, looking at the paintings that were displayed at the corner. A painting of a beautiful meadow with a bench by the lake caught her attention. A sense of familiarity rushed into her as she walked closer to the painting. Thoughts of Gigi came into her mind, her smiles that were full of warmth, her laughter, the way her eyes brightened when they spent their dreams together. Crystal’s heartbeat was becoming too loud to her own ears. Her thoughts became blurry along with her eyes. She was about to make her way to the exit when Jackie noticed her.

“Ms. Genevieve, Ms. Crystal here actually bought some of the pieces you brought in the last time.”

“Really? Wow. What were the things you got?” The young lady turned to look at Crystal, who was standing by the paintings.

The teenager took a deep breath and cleared her throat as she tried speaking without breaking her voice. “Uhmm… Just a portrait and some box.” She looked up and turned her head towards the speaker. Her heart missed a beat, her dark orbs widened as she saw the girl she was talking to. Her brunette, with hints of red, locks shaped her small face, her almond eyes glistening excitedly as she met someone who was the new owner of her grandmother’s trinkets. Crystal’s eyes traced down to her nose placed perfectly in the middle of her face, her rosy plump lips offering a pleased smile. The teenager didn’t realize what she was doing until she heard the owner’s voice saying goodbye to the both of them.

“I’ll leave you two here. Maybe there are some stories about the items you bought that are interesting. Oh, how I love good histories. I’ll catch up with you soon, Ms. Genevieve.” Jackie waved goodbye to them as she walked back to the storage area.

“Do you wanna hear some of my Granny’s story? She loved telling story. She even remembered all the backstory of the items she showed me before. We can have some coffee before I go back to St. Louis.”

This was it. Crystal thought to herself as she allowed the stranger led the way out, crossing the street and arriving to the nearest coffee shop by the corner. The curly-haired teenager followed silently after her. This might be the time she’ll find her answers.

 The two sat across from each other on a table by the window. Crystal remained quiet, her mind wandering aimlessly as she played with the handle of her cup of warm coffee. The brunette girl broke the silence, cheerfully sharing stories of her grandmother. Meanwhile, Crystal was just listening to her, sometimes wondering why she talked so much and if it had anything to do with her Gigi.

“Granny really loved the items I brought to Ms. Jackie’s shop. She hoarded a lot of items and didn’t want to get rid of them. Grandpa didn’t mind tho. They were quite a collector. Or maybe hoarder… I honestly don’t know anymore, hahaha.” She let out a soft chuckle as she reminisced of her grandmother and grandfather.

“Granny and Granpa also loved paintings and artworks. They said they weren’t into the expensive ones that you can see from art galleries but I think they had a good eye when it comes to the paintings they collected together. I remember that there were times Granny and Grandpa would hang by the porch and paint together. They sound cute, right?”

“…Yeah.” Crystal meekly agreed, nodding her head once as she locked her eyes back to her cup of coffee. As she was wordlessly listening to the young lady’s stories, her mind was debating with itself. Her fingers silently tapped on top of the table, her leg nervously wobbling and shaking.

“Have you seen that small tree figurine by the shop? The silver one? Grandpa bought that for Granny. She said the tree was similar to the tree she always go to back then. I don’t know. It must have been special to her. Also, that small floral vase. Granny said that her friends bought that for her before. She said that she didn’t really put flowers on it back then, just her paint brushes that she used. Wait, am I too talkative? I’m sorry.”

Crystal lifted her head up in surprise as she shifted her eyes towards the young lady. She shook her head and offered her a faint smile. “No, it’s fine.”

“Sorry, my mom said Granny was really talkative and I might’ve gotten it from her. Hahaha. Oh, I also remember there was a time when I went to visit Granny back at their home in Illinois, I saw this beautiful box that she owned. When we opened it, it was full of random receipts, photographs and even movie tickets. Are you familiar with drive-in cinemas? They used to go there before and have their dates. How sweet.

“There was also this another chest, if I can remember it correctly. It had a cute drawing of two people on the lid. Grandma didn’t want me to open it because she said it was full of letters. Maybe they were love notes from her past lovers. Hahaha. Although Grandpa’s letters were kept on the same box as the cinema tickets. It must’ve been really important to her. They must’ve been really in love back in the days.”

Her mouth was running dry so Crystal took a quick sip from her drink. That story surely struck her interest and attention. It brought her back to the little sketch she made of Gigi and her, the one that she also had on her vanity. The stranger in front of her mentioned about letter. Was it all of my letters for her? Did Gigi really forget about me? Is that why she didn’t meet me that day?

“However, I do remember Granny saying that she’s supposed to give those letters to someone. We have no idea who it might have been. She just mentioned that she wanted to hand it over to someone she hadn’t met in person before. Just through those letters inside the box. It was quite weird, don’t you think? I mean why would she give it to someone she doesn’t know.”

Suspicions were slowly building inside Crystal’s mind as she continued listening intently to the stranger’s stories. Her thoughts continued to banter against each other, as thoughts of Gigi came running back to her. She tried denying it but listening to all of Genevieve’s stories just made sense for her. Maybe she did forget about me already.

The young lady took a long sip of her drink, smiling afterwards as she turned her look back to Crystal. The teenager glanced back and she noticed her soft smile which was a bit too much for her. It was just a constant reminder of her mysterious writer.

“Where is your grandm-“ Crystal’s voice a little too low that the stranger in front of her barely noticed.

“By the way, what were the things you bought again? Maybe I can share with you some stories about them. You know, my granny looooved her stories.”

Crystal dug in her pocket before taking out a small photograph. It was colored sepia, with a little bit of stains on the side which showed how vintage the picture was. The young lady took the little photo in her hand and examined the painting that was shown in it.

“Oh… wait, that’s Granny Gigi!” Just the sound of her name being uttered by someone else felt surreal. It brought shivers down her spine as she felt some beads of sweat coming down her neck. “Granny Roro said I looked a bit like her even when I was a baby, that’s why she insisted to my parents to name me Genevieve. She said that Granny Gigi was very lovely and pretty, as you can see her in the photo. Granny had a loooot of stories about Granny Gigi before. And that painting was really beautiful. Granny Gigi painted that. Granny Roro also told me that that painting was someone Granny Gigi deeply loved.”

“W-what do you mean Granny Roro? Who is she?” Crystal tilted her head to the side as a perplexed look appeared on her face. She obviously couldn’t comprehend all the information at once. All the names and the stories that the stranger in front of her seemed to be too much to process. Mentioning Gigi was where it all crumbled down on her.

“Granny Roro is my grandmother. The one who I was talking about earlier. Granny Gigi was one of her closest best friends together with Granny Nicky. They were quite a gang back then. I mean, they were all really close, like real sisters. That’s how Granny Roro would describe their friendship. I actually didn’t get to meet Granny Gigi but Granny Roro loved her so much. She and Granny Nicky. That’s why she kept some of her stuff.”

Crystal took a deep breath of relief as she realized who the young lady was talking about all along. She was really slowly getting into the conclusion that Gigi would have forgotten about her and married someone else instead. At least now, she was back into feeling that Gigi didn’t forget about her. There was a reassurance that at least their love was not just a fever dream.

“If you don’t mind, did your grandmother ever mentioned where Gi- your Grandma Gigi lives now?”

Genevieve exhaled a sigh before responding to Crystal’s question. “…No. She has been long gone. Back then, the three of them were travelling somewhere far. I don’t remember much about it but something must’ve happened. Only Granny Roro and Granny Nicky survived.”

The last sentence rang again and again inside Crystal’s mind. Even though she heard it loud and clear, it still felt bizarre. Her eyes were clouded with tears that she tried so hard to repress. Her throat tightened and she could barely breathe. She looked up at the young lady and saw her lips moving but there was only silence. The only thing she was hearing were her anguished thoughts, the memories and words from Gigi kept coming back to her. She was in denial. She wished she was back inside her room, with her friends weeping just because she didn’t know where Gigi might have been. At least back then, she didn’t know.

“Oh, hey. Nice talking to you. I’m sorry but I gotta run now. I might miss the bus. I hope you enjoy some more stuff Granny left. She took care of them well so they are in good condition. Uhm, what’s your name again?

The brown-haired teenager exhaled heavily before standing up to shake the young lady’s hand without meeting with her eyes. She just couldn’t look at her face which reminded her of Gigi. “Crystal.”

“I’m Genevieve. Wait, Crystal? Hmm… That sounds quite familiar. I think Granny mentioned a name similar to yours. A friends of theirs or something, I think. Or maybe someone they knew back then. Anyway, nice meeting you! Take care.” Genevieve exited the coffee shop, leaving Crystal behind with her own thoughts. As soon as the young lady left, she packed her things as well. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She ran out of the café and back to her house.

Crystal barely made it home without shedding a tear. She sprinted as fast as she can from the café, her knees wobbling weakly. Her eyes were foggy with sadness as she travelled, her head clouded with thoughts but at the same time empty. As she reached her bedroom, she immediately closed the door and fell on the floor, her back leaning against the wooden entrance. She could hold it in no longer. Once the first tear exited her eyes, the rest followed like pouring rain. She wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face in between as she let her desolation take over her.

 For what seemed like endless hours, the melancholic teenager sat motionlessly on the floor, staring at the vast emptiness in front of her. She let her sobs roll down her cheeks, as she scanned her small room. Her eyes stopped at the corner, where a portrait of a smiling girl was hanged. Despite her quivering knees, she used all her strength to push herself up. She walked heavily towards the corner, her hand reaching out to the painting. She picked it up and carefully removed the canvas out of its frame. She looked at the painting up close, staring at every stroke and print on the painting. Her hands traced down towards the lower corner, where the signature of the artist was placed. Her thumb delicately brushed against the indented letter ‘G’. Tears once again streamed down from her eyes as she was reminded of her lover. As she gently returned the canvas back to its frame, something dropped from the portrait. Chin trembling, Crystal picked up the paper that fell from the painting. She carefully returned the frame back to its place before she opened the piece of paper. She wept.

Crystal’s hands were trembling as she read the letter Gigi wrote for her. It contained all of the unsaid feelings the young lady had that she wasn’t able to express in words when they last met. As tears were rolling down her face, Crystal froze in her place, still taken aback by the letter.

All the memories they painted together came rushing back into her head, all the smiles and laughter they have shared. From the moment the music box first rang, their first exchange of letters, and the time they first met on the meadow. She reminisced about their first date by the beach, the time they held hands by the shore as they watched the sunset, their first kiss, up to the time they spent in the arcade and inside the car, their final moments together. She remembered everything, every look, every smile and words that came from Gigi’s lips. The warmth of her smiles, the feeling of happiness whenever she saw her happy, it all came back to her. She felt coldness struck her body as she reminisced the young lady’s touch, her hug and her petite frame leaning against her back at the drive-in. The feeling of her arms wrapping around her, forehead’s touching against each other consumed her. Gigi’s fingers running down her hair, her thumb brushing up against her cheeks, she could feel everything about Gigi, all at once. It was an overwhelming feeling, but at the same time, it brought her comfort. A contented smile crept on her lips as she looked at the portrait the scarlet-haired girl painted of her. She took a deep breath, holding the letter close to her heart, the place where Gigi will forever live. -----------------------------------END------------------------------------ [A/N: If you are reading up to here, thank you! As I’ve said earlier, I’m really thankful to all of you reading my work. This is my first ‘’long’’ one and I loved writing and thinking about it. I hope you did too. Although, it feels sad knowing that I ended this already. 😢 You can always message me on how you felt about this story. I hope you loved it. Thank you and hope to see you all again on my next works. Thank you!  💜 💜 💜]

[sparklebitch]

Lance was a mercenary (or something somewhat similar) before he became a paladin

A/N: Just FYI I am currently accepting prompts again! P.S. Me, an idiot (who's surprise tho) forgot that assassin and mercenary are not the same thing sooo I done messed up again. 

Trigger warnings are listed in the tags.

Pidge noticed something strange as they walked through the streets. Voltron had just liberated their planet, people were celebrating in the streets, but the moment that walked by some people began cowering. Some ran and hid, others bolted their doors. Pidge didn't understand why. They had just saved their planet, why were they afraid?

Pidge lagged behind the others and observed the scene carefully. She watched as Allura and Coran led the way, confidently moving through the crowd as bystanders yelled out their praises. Then came Shiro,  Keith, and Hunk, who modestly waved at the citizens who were all waving back excitedly.  After them, the mood shifted. Lance walked meekly, his head held down as he trailed behind his teammates. When the people's attention turned to him, their faces changed to one of fear. They hid their children behind them, as they retreated, disappearing in the shadows. Judging by the look on Lance's face, Pidge guesses that Lance knew exactly why they had this reaction.

"So what do you all think?" Allura asked as Pidge caught up with the others. "Shall we stay the night?" One of the Yinnoi leaders was standing behind Allura with a hopeful look in her eye.  These people so desperately wanted to do something to repay Voltron for all that they had done for them.

"We would love to" Shiro said with a kind smile. Pidge could visibly see Lance tense beside her. He had his eyes downcast and he was continually reached up to fix his hair or scratched his neck so that part of his face was concealed. Pidge jammed her elbow into Lance's side and shot him a look. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and frowned.

'What?' he mouthed.

"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered as the group followed the Yinnoi leader to the large building down the road. Lance pinched his lips and shook his head.

"Not now" he pleaded. Pidge shrugged at him and then followed the others into the building.

~   ~

"Spill" It was hours later. As it turns out, the Yinnoi people were partiers. The paladins were exhausted and after thanking the leaders for the celebration, they excused themselves. They were shown to extravagantly decorated rooms and told to stay as long as they wanted.

Lance's hands flexed involuntarily against his thighs as he turned away from Pidge. "I... don't know what you're talking about" he said smoothly. Pidge raised her eyebrows and strode further into the blue paladin's room.

"Don't play stupid. You know I noticed" Lance's face hardened.

"I seriously have no idea--" Pidge stopped a few feet away from Lance and crossed her arms. She hadn't seen Lance at the party at all, aside from when they first walked in and he darted to a table in the corner of the room.

"Lance. Cut the bullshit. Why were those people so afraid of you?"  

"Drop it" Lance said firmly. Pidge stepped forward dangerously.

"You know I won't" she said stubbornly. Lance clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "Tell me. What could you possibly be hiding?" A vein throbbed in Lance's neck.

"You don't want to know" his voice was quiet, cold. He spoke slowly, like he wanted to be doubly sure what he was saying before he said it. Pidge had never seen this side of Lance before. His face was devoid of any emotion and if it wasn't for the anxious bouncing of his knee she would've thought that he was completely calm.

"Oh, actually I do" she argued. "I saw the way they were all looking at you. How do they even know who you are?" Lance didn't respond. "Fine, if you're not going to answer then I'll just have to guess" Again, Lance said nothing. "Based on the terrified looks that the people gave you, and the fact that they were hiding their children I can assume that they know you, and it's not for something good. This is an alien planet, so for them to know you specifically and to be this afraid of you I have to assume that you currently or at one time posed a threat to them directly, meaning that you either have been here since joining Voltron or... you've been to space long before now" Lance swallowed thickly but didn't otherwise react.

Pidge began pacing across the room, her hand on her chin as she mused. "I'm going to assume that you've been to space before Voltron, seeing as we've had little time to even sleep since being flung through a wormhole in space. Am I on the right track so far?" Lance crossed his legs and stared blankly at the wall behind Pidge. "Hmph fine, don't give me any clues. I got all night pal."

"Now, the question is WHY were you in space before Voltron? Not only that, but why were you all the way out here? Unless of course you weren't born on Earth, and since we don't really know that much about your family or anything about you before you came to the garrison maybe you were born out here... Maybe you were born on this planet..." Lance pound his fists on the bedside table, startling Pidge out of her thoughts.

"Oh for FUCKS SAKE, Pidge, can't you just let it go!?" Lance's outburst only served to intensify Pidge's curiosity. "Why do you have to butt into business that clearly isn't yours!" Pidge turned to face Lance, not intimidated in the slightest.

"I thought we were supposed to be a family, Lance. That's what you said. Voltron is out family now, and families don't keep huge secrets. Especially ones that might prove to get us in trouble with people in our alliance! Just tell me what you're hiding!" Lance shot up and swiftly crossed the room to the window that overlooked the glimmering gold lake behind the building. He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands before dropping them and focusing on the water.

"It was a long time ago" he said softly. Pidge inched closer so that she could hear him. "I- It's not who I am anymore. I didn't tell anyone because... I don't want you guys to think differently of me" Lance lapsed into silence.

"I would never judge you for anything, Lance" Lance closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the cool window.

"Don't be so quick to say that" he said with a humorless laugh. He took a deep breath and then began. "Before I attended the garrison, I was... a rough kid. Really rough. I grew up being bounced around from place to place because of my dad's job. We never really had a lot of money, sometimes we didn't even have enough money to buy food for weeks on end. It... it was really hard. I had three younger siblings and my mama tried so hard to take care of us the best way that she could but that was had with what we had" Pidge leaned up against the dresser next to the window and listened intently to Lance's story.

"When I was at the grocery store one day I saw this flier on the bulletin board by the door. It was advertising this military type school that children fifteen years and older could attend to learn leadership skills and discipline. There were scholarships for those who qualified, along with a monthly check that got sent to them for the work that they would be doing. I begged my mama to let me go. I told her that I wanted to help the family, and this was the only way how. Unfortunately, I wasn't old enough. I was only twelve at the time, but I looked really grown up for my age" Lance shrugged. "Anyhow, my parents both told me no. But I couldn't let it go. Everyday I had to watch my parents struggle to keep us from being thrown out on the streets. I had to watch my siblings cry because they didn't have milk or a single piece of bread to eat. My family was wasting away, and I knew that there was a way for me to help them. There was no way that I could just forget about it"

Pidge watched Lance's face. It was dark as he spoke. She had no idea about any of that. From what Lance had told her before about his family, she assumed that they were just a normal happy family. "So you ran away?" Pidge asked when Lance paused.

"Yeah. I packed up what few things I had and left a note for my parents. I went to the address on the flier and wrote out my application for the school. I lied about my age and a few other things, forged my parents signatures and voila. I was gone"

"Gone?"

"Yeah. Turns out the whole school was bullshit. It was a ploy to steal children and ship them off to some intergalactic mercenary training school on the planet Tabradus and--" Pidge waved her hands.

"Whoa whoa whoa. You mean the Tabradus!?" THe so called 'school' on that planet had been shut down after years of turning children into trained killers, using them to kill people at their command until they were 18, when they were subsequently turned loose into the world to wreak havoc. It was a messed up place. And to think that Lance had gone there so that he could send money home to his family?

"Yeah" he said simply.

"Wow" Pidge said in shock. "So... when those people saw your face... they were scared because--"

"I was sent here to kill the previous Yinnoi leader. Publicly. I made... a lot of money" he said hollowly. "My parents were able to rent a nice apartment for a few months after I wired the money to them"

"Holy shit" Pidge sunk down until she was sitting on the ground. She couldn't even fathom what Lance had been through at that school, or what he had done after leaving there.

"Before you even ask, I yes it was just as terrible as you're imagining and no I'm not going to tell you about it. Like I said, that's in the past now. That's not who I am. It was something that I was forced into, and I was too naive to realize how truly deplorable the things that I was doing were. It's something I have to live with every day"

"How did you get out?" Pidge asked after trying to process the information for a few moments.

"An ex-member of the school ended up joining the Blade of Marmora. He snuck into the school and helped a lot of kids escape. He gave us a place to stay and offered to take us back to our home planets. But... I just couldn't go home. Not after what I had done to those people. I couldn't face them. So he told me about the garrison. He told me that it would be good for me, and that I could get a weekend job working there so that I could continue to send money home to my parents. He helped my get enrolled. He... he saved my life" Lance said.

The air hung heavy in the room as Lance concluded his story. Pidge didn't know what to say. She had no idea that Lance was carrying this around with him. How long had he been struggling with the memories of this? Being with Voltron in the middle of this war couldn't have helped. He was only a child when he was taught to kill people. The effect that that has to have on a person...

Pidge stood and in an instant her arms were wrapped around Lance's middle. Lance froze in surprise. The last thing that he expected after telling his story was for Pidge to hug him.

"Wha-" Lance stuttered, his eyes wide. He didn't know what to do with his arms. Pidge's face was buried in Lance's shirt. "Why are you hugging me?"

"I don't know. It feels like the right thing to do right now" she mumbled. "I'm sorry for pushing"

"I should've told everyone a long time ago" Lance said numbly.

"Lance I'll keep it a secret if you don't feel comfortable telling the others" she said, still clinging to Lance. Lance began to relax at Pidge's touch.

"Oh. Thank you" His fingers brushed against the back of Pidge's shirt. "I will tell them. It's just..."

"Hard" Pidge supplied. Lance nodded. "Don't feel pressured at all. Tell them when you're ready to tell them" Lance looked down at the smaller paladin attached to him and his face softened. He was confused. After hearing a story like that any normal person would be horrified. They would be weird and probably wouldn't want to be around him anymore.

But then again, Pidge wasn't really a normal girl.

Lance finally moved his arms and hugged Pidge back, closing his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he cracked a small smile.

~   ~   ~

| Other fics | Ko-fi |

[tellthosewithpowersafeintower]

Autistic Bumlets HC’s

This is actually one of the first things I wrote but I’ve been nervous to post it. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this and love Bumlets so much

I might write more for this at some point if anyone’s interested with some more thoughts and I hope you enjoy! This is super long and kind of rambly but I had fun with all of this

Bumlets loves his cane

It has a really nice weight and he always needs to be fidgeting with something and he loves the feel it has when tapping it

It doubles as a stimmy and something to help him maneuver because Bumlets has no coordination

And he loves it

He also on an unrelated note had an injury that screwed with his foot when he was a kid

It bothers him more when its cold out and he relies more on the cane on bad pain days

He uses it as a selling point sometime

He and Crutchie joke around sometimes and mess with their crutch and cane together

They know things can be awful sometimes so they share lighter, goofy silly moments

Bumlets is really uncoordinated

He has a really hard time maneuvering around and controlling his movement when he’s walking

There’s this one table in the hall of the Lodging’s

It stayed in the same place but every day for three years the boy could not get by without knocking into it at some point

His proprioception is completely screwed

He loves dancing tho and he’s SO GOOD at it

He feels self-conscious sometimes bc like, he can do backflips and amazing dance moves but he can’t tell left from right all the time or the distance between objects and proceeds to knock into everything on his way anywhere

Absolutely LOVES dancing

He loves it

Plus dance is a more acceptable way to move your body than flapping your hands/rocking or whatever

At least with the newsies (who don’t really seem to care either way)

Bumlets loves being in motion

He had to work really hard as a kid to figure out how to coordinate his dancing movements. He spent hours trying to practice each step because he was so clumsy due to his brain function that even though he really freaking loved dancing it was really hard for him

He actually used the cane first when he was little to try and help push himself around when he struggled with dance moves he really wanted to do

He’s very proud of his dancing now

And he loves that he gets to show it with the boys he loves as family

He gets praised sometimes for being super expressive because he’s almost always smiling or showing something on his face. It can be really good for selling sometimes to have someone so that seems so open and friendly

Honestly tho Bumlets never knows what is happening on his face so if people ask he has no clue how to help

He has a hard time registering what his face is doing at all 

He can tell sometimes he’s smiling really widely when his face starts hurting but he feels pretty disconnected from his face most of the time and he’s really confused by how others can tell what is happening on people’s faces and what that is supposed to signify so easily

Like… how

Bumlets really doesn’t get idioms at all

He has a mental list of some of the phrases the other newsboys use

Even though sometimes he’ll slip up and get really excited and start grinning because he has a relevant point in response to that statement- but oh that’s a phrase/idiom or non-literal joke they didn’t actually mean that he should stay quiet

Plus English isn’t his first language

So things get really messy there too

There are so many little idiosyncrasies and quirks in different languages and they’re really hard to keep track of sometimes even if you don’t have autistic characteristics

His hair always stays down and he really likes the feel of it

He can’t stand the thought of getting a haircut

Plus having it long/hang down feels nice on the sensory end

He doesn’t like people touching his hair

Bad. Touch.

Bumlets doesn't like short pants bc if your going to wear pants they have to go all the way down

He doesn't like leaving just a section of skin exposed

It's gross!!

Baggy. Clothes.

He loves them

He very rarely slips up when he's dancing. Bumlets has rehearsed the motions for so many countless hours they feel natural at this point so he's generally in a pretty bad way when that does happen

When he gets excited he tends to start tapping his cane faster and his eyes light up

He can chatter away for hours about things he's interested in without pause or losing enthusiasm

Bumlets can be pretty oblivious

He has a hard time telling when people are upset or emotional

Hyperempathetic as frick

Internally panics and screams the whole time anyone is upset bc he isn't sure what he's supposed to do but he Loves Them

Hypersensitive to touches but loves hugs

He is a very physical person bc he loves showing affection but some days touch is just Bad

Can't do surprise touches very well

Espec from certain people

He has a hard time supporting his weight (he just sways faintly a lot but has no idea, can't tell if he's in motion) so he uses his cane for support

It helps him a lot

And he likes something to try to use to catch him if he stumbles a little

Plus itsa stimmy

He tends to shut down if noises and lights become way too much

Like this: 

Duck behind a statue for a moment to breathe

also

tap tap tap and finger thing I can’t get my body to cooperate to do

He has a few places he goes when he's overwhelmed

Very rarely completely shuts down but it's always incredibly exhausting

The first time he did it around the newsies he just collapsed and slept for hours afterwards

He didn't move like at all in his sleep which freaked them all out because Bumlets always seemed to be doing something + he slept for like a whole day

The boys worried about him

Bumlets was a lil sleepy and sheepish when he woke up but good

Used his cane extra that day

The newsies are super great

They don't always understand but they try really hard and love him to death

There aren’t really a lot of words to help him explain things because it is 1899 but they all make it work, and if the kids can sell papes and live with the rest of them they have been absorbed into their crazy weird family and will be fought for

They've become pretty good at noticing signs for when he's getting overwhelmed

Usually someone will grab him and take him out to rest if he’s not in a space to just go himself

Different people do different things but he loves them all

Some of the boys will just have quiet conversations with Bumlets one-on-one about things he loves when he's more coherent

One just sits with him quietly supportive while he fiddles with stuff

He actually doesn't smoke a lot but he loves fiddling with cigars or messing with them in his mouth

Oral stim

He used to use them a lot more

He still uses them sometimes and has some around

One time after a really bad day (meltdown) Race gave him one of his cigars. He made him promise not to tell anyone but Bumlets was so happy he couldn't care less

He was very careful with said cigar bc it was from Race

So it was automatically important

He doesn't always understand Race cause he's super witty but he loves hearing him talk

Bumlets can be a really convincing liar. He's not the best but he can definitely pass and he kind of has to on the streets

Can be really loud

Rowdy boy, like the rest of the newsies

Adventurous as frick

Wild child

He’s super eager and almost always seen smiling

He’s excited by so many things

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other emotions because he definitely does

He feels like he just soaks up all emotions and dealing with them when he can’t understand is a mess

Skittery is great at listening even when Bumlets is past the point of words or even understanding how to put things into words

Doesn't always realize when things are supposed to be insults

Forgets he's supposed to take care of himself sometimes

He forgets he's supposed to eat and doesn't always realize if he's hungry or needs water

Exasperates Skittery and some of the boys but they try to remind him in case he doesn't remember

The newsies love him

He's awkward and nervous and doesn't understand things sometimes but really kind and cares very obviously about all of them

Appreciates the little things

He's good at noticing tiny details or inconsistencies others miss sometimes

While he’s friends are really great at helping that doesn’t mean he can’t fend for himself

He can definitely pick fights and hold his own and look after himself

His family is just their to help when things go sour

They don’t make him feel like he’s any less bc he’s “weird” or different

Skittery is incredibly close with him and helps him a lot

They’re So. Close.

Skittery helps keep track of things when his thoughts are more scattered

Bumlets is also very good at helping Skittery because he’s really smart with money and sorting things out

When he pushes himself too far sometimes Skittery is the exasperated friend who wants Bumlets to stop being an idiot and look after himself

He's really supportive and sometimes tugs him aside to help explain terms or phrases when Bumlets doesn't understand

Skittery also has a cane and they tussle a lot with them

Bumlets has always really loved that bc when they were starting it out it made him feel like he was one of them

They're almost always inseparable

And he has a hard time sometimes when he doesn't have Skittery because with Skittery things Make Sense 

When he's gone Bumlets is sad

He misses his friend

But the other boys are nice too and he loves them

He considers the newsies his family since he doesn’t really have his bio family anymore

[cloudninetonine]

A Favour for a Favour

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Summary: Peter stumbles across someone strange when he’s walking home from school and decides to help that strange someone. This leads to some interesting events.

A/N: I HAVE HAD THIS SHIT SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR A YEAR AND I FINALLY FINISHED IT SO HERE YOU ALL GO, ENJOY

This is only one part of it tho, I will continue it if you guys want me to

Also, Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse here cause it makes everything more interesting

Warnings: Bad language, Sexual Tension? I think

Peter Parker was a smart boy.

Yeah, he had some oddities, the boy who enjoyed old timer movies and only had one friend, Ned Leeds, but he was still incredibly skilled when it came to science and maths and was destined to have a great future one day, so that’s what really mattered. He was intelligent, and his smart decisions would lead him to something great.

So when he saw the two feet sticking out from behind a dumpster on his way back from school one evening, he wondered if it was a stupid decision or not to go check on whoever the feet were attached to.

The boy moved slowly, taking one step after another away from the busy street into the dirty alley while leaning over to glance behind the giant metal container.

Peter could see them clearly now. A girl, from what he guessed about the same age as him, was sat leaning against the neighbouring apartment complex with a lit cigarette in her hand. Her hair was short and matted shadowing her eyes, her skin was riddled with dirt and she was wearing what once was a pristine suit, now torn and soiled with what looked to be dried blood. Though the weirdest thing had to be the lack of scent, nothing, not a single thing that gave away what exactly she may have been. Alpha, Delta, Beta, Gamma, Omega? There was nothing and that unnerved him greatly.

Peter Parker was a smart boy.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be stupid.

“You know it’s a bad idea to walk into an alleyway alone” An English accented voice made him jump and Peter watched as the girl turned to look at him with piercing (e/c) eyes that seemed to glow with warning. The girl’s lips pulled back, a deadly smirk growing on her features as she stared right into his soul. “Are you trying to get jumped?”

Peter shook his head quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat as he stammered “N-No, I just- I saw you- I thought you might have needed help-”

The sudden laugh she released was boisterous, her hand slapping the pavement was loud and everything she seemed to do made him jump nervously. He wouldn’t be having this problem if he was an Alpha. “Me? Need help? How kind of you, stranger”

His eyes caught the thick collar around her neck and the idea of a scent collar popped into his head. It was, however, quickly diminished when he noticed that the collar seemed more of some sort of electrical torture device. “Would- uh, would you like help?”

It was a stupid question. Peter knew it was a stupid question, he didn’t even know why he asked in the first place and expected her to laugh again at his idiotic query, however, her cruel smile began to soften and she let out a broken laugh.

“You can’t help me, kiddo” Came her soft reply “You should get outta here before things get…” She paused, trying to find the words “messy…”

“Messy?” The American repeated, tilting his head in confusion. After a brief silence, most likely her contemplating if she should tell him the context of her comment, she patted the spot next to her. Peter walked over slowly, sliding down to match her position and blinking in surprise when she held her hand out.

“The name’s (Full Name) and what I’m about to tell you right now is basically part my life story, so I might as well know your name first.” Peter grabbed her hand, giving the girl a firm shake as he replied “Peter Parker”

(Name) grinned “Nice to meet you, Parker”

“Uh, likewise”

(Name) turned back, facing the opposite wall as she took a deep breath. Her hand moved to her jacket pocket, pulling out a silver flask and gesturing towards him as if to ask ‘want some’, pulling away with an understanding nod when he declined before taking a swig of its contents.

“I don’t think…” Peter trailed off when she pulled a disgusted face.

(Name) was quick to spit it back out.

“Whiskey isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, it seems” She tossed the flask aside and sighed in disappointment.

Silence hung over them and Peter felt the need to ask if she was going to explain her situation. He knew he should really leave it alone, he knew he should have probably left when she had suggested, maybe even call the police but his gut told him that his efforts would be for nothing, that what he was doing now was the right thing.

He didn’t really like trusting his gut, it always seemed to end with some type of problem or problems that he would need to deal with sooner rather than later.

“You see the collar?” (Name) scowled, gesturing towards the thing with distaste “It’s there to keep me in check when I go out for... assignments from my boss and well, it’s got a tracking system with a whole team monitoring my every move twenty-four-seven”

Clicking her tongue, she continued “However, during one of my jobs I got hit and it got fucked, so I’ve been off the grid for a few days but I know that they’ll have that damn thing back on soon, they always do”

(Name) pulled her legs up to her chest, placing her head onto her knees and closing her eyes. “And once they find out I’m not dead already, they’ll kill me off”

“W-what!” Peter exclaimed, eyes wide and face stricken with horror. “Why haven’t you taken it off?!”

“Can’t; It’s locked, I don’t know the code and one wrong move won’t end well”

(Name) once again leaned back, meeting the boy’s eyes with a tired smile. Peter could tell what she’s feeling, he’s felt it so many times before and he just couldn’t bear the sight. She was tired, the kind of tired that was really just a cover-up to hide the despair and complete misery she was feeling but trying to ignore as she knew that there was nothing that could be done to make it stop.

It was at that moment that Peter Parker decided to use his smarts to his advantage.

Peter dived into his bag, rummaging through his items while (Name) watched him with interest. He let out a silent cheer, pulling out a small keyboard and some wires he had found while dumpster diving earlier this morning.

(Name) grinned upon seeing them “It’s not gonna be that easy, Parker, this thing was programmed by a bunch of expert hackers, it’s not gonna give way to a fifteen-year-old with a bunch of retro techs”

“I can still try, I’m not gonna let you die” He responded, patting his jeans for his phone only for one to be presented to him.

“Well, if I can’t stop you, I might as well help you” (Name) was still grinning and he could see a slight spark appear in her eyes. “Don’t use your phone, you’ll just have to throw it away”

Peter smiled, taking the device “Thanks, where did you get this?”

“You wouldn’t like that answer”

After a confused pause, the boy began his work. (Name) had her back to him, the device unscrewed revealing a mess of wires and chips, some of which had been connected to the keyboard and phone. The smart device was used to display the mess of code and keyboard used to break down the jumbled expanse of numbers he could see. If Ned were here, this would be much easier, he thought but alas, his friend was probably at home working on the lego podracer he had bought a few weeks ago.

“You feel like giving up yet, Parker?” (Name) teased and Peter let out a grunt of acknowledgement, too far into a state of concentration to respond to her comment. “You know, it’s okay if you can’t do it, not everyone can be saved”

“It doesn’t mean that they can’t try to be” She went quiet after that, her form becoming slight stiff as he continued on with his task. (Name) had long since given up and she accepted that maybe, she wouldn’t be able to continue on but there was no way in hell that Peter was going to accept defeat, he would figure this out or die trying.

It was about thirty minutes later when something finally seemed to happen. “I think I have the code”

(Name) froze “...Seriously?”

“Yeah…” Peter leaned forward, fingers ghosting over the rubber numbers on the code panel as he looked up at (Name) hesitantly. “Do you want me to…?”

She sat silently for a moment, her form completely still when she spoke “Do it”

“What if it’s-”

“Then it’s wrong”

“What will happen-”

“Don’t think about that”

Peter gulped, then choked out a sigh, trying to calm his nerves as he glanced over the numbers one last time and began to input in the six-digit sequence. He hesitated before pressing the enter button, shuffling back slightly at (Name)’s demand and sitting in silence as they waited for something to happen. A minute when past, then five, then ten and Peter let out a sound of confusion.

“Did...did it not work?” (Name) was still quiet when she moved her hands to the device, ignoring Peter’s concerned call as she grabbed it and tugged at it gently. With a soft click, it gave way, becoming limp in (Name)’s hand as she turned around and brought it in front of her, face frozen in astonishment as they both stared at it.

“It worked…” She whispered, a smile growing on her face “It worked!”

(Name) laughed, jumping to her feet with joyous cheer and threw the device to the floor. Peter watched as she slammed her boot down on it, laughing a relieved laugh at the cracking sound before taking a deep breath and looking over towards him as he stood.

“You saved my life, Parker” (Name) grinned “I owe you”

“Y-You don’t really-” The boy tried to argue, yelping suddenly when she threw herself towards him, squeezing him gratefully while he stood there awkwardly. She was about the same height as him and her grip around him was much stronger than he had expected.

“Yes, I do” She pulled away, giving him a two-fingered salute before turning and walking deeper into the alley. “We’ll meet again, Parker, but as of now, it would be a good idea to part.”

“Wait, what-”

(Name) turned, a knowing smirk on her face as she sent him a cheeky wink “They’re are probably still trying to track that thing, but I’ll be long gone so head off before you gather their attention”

She turned, disappearing into a connected alley with a farewell while ignoring Peter’s perplexed shouts. The teen was quick to gather his stuff, chasing after girl still calling after her but stopped when realising that it was deserted, the only thing within his eyesight being a few other dumpsters and the busy street at the mouth of the alleyway.

Peter let out a disappointed sigh as he threw his backpack onto his shoulder, exiting the narrow pathway and continuing his walk back home.

A few weeks later, a little after the spider bite, there was a delivery at his door with a note, the words ‘only the beginning - (Name)’ written in red ink with a friendly heart. He was lucky that Aunt May wasn’t there so he wouldn’t have to explain the large stack of cash he pulled out of the envelope.

It was a few months later when Peter had been appointed by the Tony Stark to help him fight against a rogue group of heroes and to say that it was chaotic would be an understatement.

He expected something bad, these were superheroes obviously, some were made to be weapons, some had magic, some were just plain skilled and terrifying, but oh, what he got to face was so much worse.

He had got thrown around by Captain America, nearly caught an arrow to the shoulder, had some sort of psychic blast sent his way- it was a nightmare and no words could change that.

However, halfway through the fight, he had been cornered by a smaller masked figure and he had been fighting against them with much difficulty. Dodging an electric baton, blocking flying punches, jumping back from a boot to the face- really, doing anything that wouldn’t end with him of the floor.

However, his plans were quickly foiled when his assailant ducked down, swiftly sweeping the young hero’s legs out from under him and sending Peter onto the hard, cold ground. The enemy was quick to pounce, straddling his waist, pinning both his arms above his head before pulling back out their baton and pointing it dangerously close to his neck as a warning to stay down.

Peter audibly gulped from under his mask.

Then, without any warning, they began to lean closer, weapon still poised at his neck when he noticed something- well, in their case, the lack of something.

They had no scent.

There was no musty smell of an Alpha, no natural aroma of a Beta, the sweet fragrance of an Omega, just...nothing. Everyone else in this airport had some sort of particular smell but this character had nothing, nada, absolutely nil.

That’s when he realised.

“Heya, Parker”

He knew exactly who this was.

“(N-Name)?” The boy stammered, squirming under his captor’s grip with an uncomfortable whine. The proximity made him uncomfortable and it seemed to make him forget that he could have easily pushed her off of his frame. “What are you doing here?”

Dropping her weapon, (Name) swiftly pulled back her mask to reveal the Cheshire grin carved into her cheeks, accompanied by a surprisingly mischievous spark in her eyes.

"I'm here helping the good guys" She tilted her head to the side, looking over him with an obvious glee “Looks like you chose the wrong side, Parker”

“I didn’t choose the wrong side!” (Name) snorted at his frustrated rebuttal, biting her lip in a teasing motion as she watched his suit eyes narrow “Do you even know what’s going on here?!”

“Do you even know what’s going here, Parker?” Peter huffed, turning his head to the side in a way to avoid her inquisitive counter.

No.

He had no clue what was happening at the moment, he just wanted the chance to team up with Mr Tony Stark and some other popular faces that he had only dreamed of ever meeting in real life.

“Didn’t think so” She laughed, leaning closer as she took a whiff of him “When did you become an Alpha, Parker? Did it happen when you got those abilities of yours?”

“I-I…”

“Or maybe you were an Alpha this whole time? Maybe you were hiding it behind that Beta smell from before, hm?” She was so close, Peter realised when he felt soft breathes fan over where his ear would be under his mask. He could feel everything of her, her hands holding down his wrists, her chest pressed against his, her thighs straddling his hips- he was aware of every single little detail and he didn’t know why. He knew it wasn’t his spidey senses, her playful attitude with him showed that she had no thoughts of hurting him in any way, maybe it was his nerves?

Then he caught a small scent that only grew stronger when his senses honed into it. It was like the smell of a bakery, the telltale aroma of fresh doughnuts out of the oven, the sugary smell of cupcakes being iced and danishes being left to cool off, oh, he could almost taste it! (Name) smelled so delicious, so delightful, so...so…

Sweet!

…

Wait-

“Holy shit…”

(Name) giggled, her hands snaking down from his wrists to tug up his mask and boop his nose. She winked at his wide-eyed expression.

“Surprised, Parker?” She cooed with a playful grin “Big, scary (Name) being an Omega?”

“(Name)...”

All at once, the smell was gone and (Name) jumped to her feet “Well, it was nice seeing you, Parker, but I gotta go. Gotta go be a hero when I can be one”

“Wait!” (Name) ran, not giving Peter a second to talk. The teen jumped to his feet, pulling down his mask and chasing after her through the chaos "(Name), wait!"

“No can do, Parker!” She shouted back, sliding to the left when the boy shot a web towards her, dodging it with a laugh. “Good one, but not good enough!”

The boy growled in frustration, his speed increasing significantly from his determination before he reached out and caught her wrist. (Name) squealed when he tugged her back, manic giggles falling from her lips when she made eye contact with the boy as he brought her to his chest. “Couldn’t get enough of me, Parker? I’m honoured, really”

“You can’t just-” He spluttered trying to bite back his frustration in favour of sounding confused “You can’t just do that and run!”

“And why can’t I?”

“Because-”

“Because, what?”

“Because, I-

“Because, you-”

“Because I liked your scent!” He finished, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment while (Name)’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You, what?”

“...I liked your scent” He repeated with more confidence, leaning closer to her “It was...sweet”

“Sweet?” (Name) whimpered, glancing around “Parker I have to go-”

“Please” Peter squeezed her forearms gently, urging her to look at him “Please don’t go”

(Name) looked so conflicted.

“Peter-”

A flash of red and Peter was thrown back, his colliding into a van with a pained grunt while (Name) stood motionless, unsure of what to do when another hand tugged at her.

“Come, (Name)” Wanda ushered, glancing back at the boy before both of them were running again.

It was only when (Name), Bucky and Steve were in the Quinjet did she make any noise again. The two males glanced back at her, watching as she let out a string of flustered giggles, covering her face as she curled into herself.

“You okay, kid?” Bucky asked and (Name) sighed, relaxing into the seat with a dazed expression.

“He liked my scent” She giggled, “He said it was sweet”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, both soldiers’ faces contorting into different emotions when they realised what the girl was talking about.

“Bucky-”

“I’ll kill him”

[ascreamingstrawberry]

Strip Me of My Walls, Please.

Previous : Part 9,  Present : Part 10 + 11,  Next : Part 12 + 13

Summary: Logan hires a prostitute to pretend to be his boyfriend. Patton is a prostitute just trying to support his son when he falls with a very rich man needing him to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Chapter Summaries : Roman thinks about college while pushing through the streets. Patton and Thomas make up a little, with Logan’s help.

Pairings: romantic Logicality, future romantic Prinxiety, Elle x Damien (my original characters), 

Word Count: 3,094

Warnings : andrew being a lil bitch? mentions of domestic abuse? the musical spring awakening? yelling? more tears but like also less? remy and emile are in this fic bc even tho they ain’t sides they’re my kiddos

Notes : There’s a flashback at the beginning of this fic. Also, there’s like a million characters in this fic but do you guys want a full list once you’ve been introduced to them all? It might help you keep track. Also, Ao3 has the most up-to-date chapters and you can check that out here.

Roman was talking about Spring Awakening for the third time that day, and yet he still felt like he had just too many words to say on the production. Rehearsals had been going phenomenally, Roman felt like he and the Wendla and the Moritz that the university had casted just clicked. But if his two young friends were sick of hearing about the subject, they made no point of telling Roman, so he figured it was okay.  

He had went to his Introductory to Psychology course that he took alongside the freshmen couple Emile and Remy, two of the only friends Roman had been able to find on campus since people tended to avoid him due to his extra nature. Remy rarely ever showed up to class and when he did Roman found his boyfriend tapping on his shoulder to get him awake and paying attention. Remy had almost fought Roman on who was gayer, and often disappeared for days without notice to him or Emile, but Roman enjoyed the man’s company nonetheless.  

So on the walk from Psychology, he wasn’t particularly offended when he noticed Remy dozing off during his ramblings, Emile having to practically hold the other man up with their linked arms. He was about to say something about the two maybe heading back to their dorm when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind, a breath tickling his neck as a familiar voice whispered to him. “Are you talking about that play of yours again, darling?”

“Musical.” Roman playfully corrected as he turned his head to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Andrew was a very attractive man, Roman talked about it often, he was quite lucky to have someone so kind to put up with him.  

“I was quite enjoying listening to you talk about it, Roman. You’re very passionate, it seems.” Emile smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose with his free hand, while pushing Remy upwards with the other. “Plus you don’t seem to spend your time with anyone else, so you’re probably not talking about it with anyone else.”  

Roman’s smile dropped in the middle of his friend’s statement, but he still thanked him for listening. The small group of four had stopped just in front of the science center, Emile and Remy were standing a little more than an arms length from them now, more or so because they weren’t as familiar with Andrew as Roman was.  

Andrew could scare people, Roman knew that, he was taller than most with broad football shoulders. But once you looked past the military blonde haircut, and reached the soft blue eyes, he really was a softie. Roman had spent most of college alone, he’d taken up his special line of work and performing as ways to distract himself from lonely night hours, and now he had friends and Andrew to keep his day hours just as busy. He just wished the three got along.

“How’s the apartment hunting going?” Roman being a senior and his boyfriend being two years out of college, meant the two had to start thinking on life in the real world. Roman had his heart set on a big city, but not go to New York City until they had both worked enough for the money for rent and such.  

Clearly not well, Roman figured as he watched his boyfriend’s good mood soil in front of his eyes, his shoulders slumping and his eyes suddenly looked way more sad than he thought they should ever look. Roman, wanting to help, figured he could use some help. “Well you know there’s that one site-”

“Let’s not talk about it.” Andrew quickly replied, removing his arms from Roman’s waist and pressing a kiss to Roman’s lips, trying distract him.

And Roman let him, just for a moment, because he wanted to let it go. He wanted to get lost in the feeling of his boyfriend’s lips on his, he wanted to reach up and run his hands through his hair, and yet he found himself pushing him away. “Andrew, the semester-”  

“Ro, I said drop it.” Andrew tried to kiss him again but this time Roman had his hands up in front of him. He almost forgot about the two freshmen that were now behind Roman as he lifted his chin and stood on his tiptoes to meet his boyfriend eye to eye.

Roman needed to talk about it, he needed a concrete plan for the future or to talk about Spring Awakening again to feel like he was doing something. He needed this, why couldn’t Andrew just see that? “Drew please, I know what I’m talking about, all you have to do is-”

“I SAID SHUT UP.” Andrew screamed, his face red, students turning their heads to see where the outburst had come from. Remy was awake now, his arms wrapped around Emile protectively, staring into the back of Roman’s head as he waited for his older friend’s reaction.

And yet, there wasn’t one. Roman didn’t go running away in tears, even though they were there on the edges of his eyes. He didn’t spit back a yell at his boyfriend, even though there was one on the tip of his tongue. He let Andrew break into a heartless apology and explanation, tuning him out completely, falling into step with Emile and Remy as they walked towards the dining hall.

When the road forked toward a residence hall that was not his own, Roman still took it, leaving the group unnoticed in silence. It was not until Remy took a look around after they were almost there to see that Roman was no longer at his side. He tapped on Emile’s forearm, alerting him, but not making a sound to alert the other occupant. They made it to the dining hall, and when Andrew finally noticed Roman’s disappearance, they said something about him heading home. They all knew that home to Roman meant Andrew’s apartment, and not his own dorm, so when Emile and Remy retreated back towards the middle of campus, Andrew thought nothing of it.  

Roman had watched the two freshmen pass by him, heading to his dorm, and he almost felt guilty for being tucked behind the sophomore girls dormitory and not in his room. He sent them a text telling them he went on a walk, and turned to press his head against the red brick. Roman’s hands felt shaky, his breath felt uneven, and as tears slipped down his face, he felt cold. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he pulled away the tears were dried and there was a painful indent of the brick in his forehead that hurt a lot less than the rest of him.  

Roman could still remember the feeling of the brick’s indent over his forehead, as he pushed through the city, he felt his hands run over the familiar material. There was a small bag in his back, some of his most valuable possessions he’d been able to grab when he slipped out after  Andrew had left for work. A couple acting awards, a picture of his parents even though they didn’t speak to him anymore, and his costume from his freshman year of college’s production of Into the Woods that he had been able to keep, surprisingly. The director said his casting had been a joke on his last name and a lack of older males, but then he had blown it away first day he was welcomed back every musical afterwards.

Roman was still in his night shorts underneath the jeans he had haphazardly thrown on in his haste, and a black t-shirt under his signature red and white jacket. He was moving through the city through back alleyways in an attempt to avoid main traffic and being seen. When he had finally made it to the neighborhood, he had missed the sunrise and exhaustion was fighting against the new bruises at his sides. If he stopped to count the bruises on his thighs that scattered all the way up to his ribs and along his wrists, he’d surely fall over with a lack of momentum. Roman tried to focus on getting to the name on the mailbox, the number on the door, the people behind the windows. The ones he knew well, the ones that cared for him, that would help.

They surely couldn’t protect him for long, eventually he’d have to go back, and though the thought made his stomach churn, he pushed on. Finally, just as the paper boy passed him on his bicycle, he reached the front of the lawn. The lights were off but the warmth associated with the home was still dragging Roman to the front door. His body ached as he climbed the steps and he but a split second to think about turning towards the bushes just under the living room before he collapsed, fainting. 

Logan excused himself to call Virgil, inform him he was staying the night at Patton’s and to bring him clothes in the morning. He felt a little guilty that in the chaos, he had forgotten his twin would be in charge of their nephew over the next couple days, but then he’d had an idea. Jon was quiet, sure, and sometimes the boy’s attitude could get the better of him but he was in desperate need of a friend. So it seemed, was Thomas. Logan didn’t enjoy meddling, never saw the appeal of it, but if it could help anyone, he would partake.

“Dinner’s ready.” Patton’s voice was quiet even though it still broke the silence of the house loud enough for Logan to hear him from the bedroom, a different kind of quiet though, a broken quiet. Logan had tried to hold him for a little longer in the living room, but Patton had excused himself first, wrapping himself in his cooking. While it smelled delicious and the sight of Patton over the stove made Logan feel something, he pushed both of those thoughts away as he surveyed both Sanders boys sat with him at the small table near towards the kitchen.

They looked small and very far away from each other even though they were just on other side of the table. Thomas’ head was tucked into his chest as he ate and Patton was almost similar except once in a while he would look up at Logan, smiling but it never reached his eyes. Patton surely must have wanted to speak on the manner, and yet as time ticked on, both Sanders boys looked as though they’d rather be any place but here. Logan was the first to finish, and in means of starting conversation, complimented the food. Patton barely had time to hide his head from the blush that had reached his cheeks before a quiet voice interrupted the moment. “It was good as always, Dad.”

Patton looked at his son’s eyes for the first time since he’d seen him on the floor of their living room covered in bruises and his own blood. He ignored his own nervousness at the subject and just looked at the absolute fear spread out across the tiniest specs of hazel mixed in with the light brown staring back him. Patton smiled slowly, trying to force it to come out as soft and comforting, and when Thomas sheepishly returned one, suddenly he didn’t have to force it anymore. “Why don’t you get ready for bed, kiddo?”

Normally, Thomas and Patton would watch a movie or Patton would indulge in his son in watching him partake in one of his many hobbies. Sometimes musical instruments, sometimes reading something Thomas wrote, a lot of times it would be singing together as they picked up the house from all the other activities. Tonight they were both exhausted though.

“I’ll take the couch.” Logan said to Patton as Thomas retreated to his bedroom. Patton couldn’t help but marvel at the man before him, and what he’d done for Patton today. He wondered if he knew just how much his very presence now kept Patton from breaking. So much had happened, his own problems seemed so far away as the image of his son bruised and bloody came back to him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, shaking his head at nothing like it would whisk the image away in a breeze. He felt his body give way again but then there he was, again. Logan.

“Patton.” Logan said his name like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Patton lifted his head as far as he could, which was only even with just under Logan’s nose. Logan pulled Patton closed again, pressing his hand against his back while Patton’s own arms stayed glued to his sides. The position was awkward, Patton’s nose was pressed against Logan’s cheek as the younger man had his head turned towards the window. He was trying all he could not lean on this man for any more support, Logan didn’t deserve to be burdened with it, and here the man was with his own shaking breath against Patton’s neck.

“I’m sorry.” Patton said, and Logan’s breath stopped all together. Patton pulled away to lifted his head all the way up and when he met those striking grey eyes they were staring at Patton with a feeling he couldn’t discern.

“Don’t be sorry.” Logan’s voice sounded vengeful, angry like it had been in that  whore  room earlier but seeped with a hiss underneath it. “Patton, I am not good at comforting, but I would literally give anything to see you smile like you did in my closet, which seems so long ago. I don’t want you to blame yourself at all, because call it selfish, but I am so blessed to be the one here for you in this moment.”

Logan pulled away, not before turning his head and pressing a kiss to the end of Patton’s nose, and Patton nodded stepping into the bedroom and pulled out a blanket and a pillow for him. He took a moment to breath again, before returning to the living room where Thomas was standing at the door, his hands tucked behind his back. Patton handed Logan the blanket and pillow, keeping a raised eyebrow in his son’s direction. Thomas licked his lips, stuck his tongue out, and then closed his eyes leaning forward as if forcing the word out. “Dad.”

“Yes, kiddo?” Patton took a step closer, Thomas still didn’t open his eyes, and now he bent his head towards his chest to further keep his sights away. Patton ignored the small thud he heard, as Thomas took in a shaky breath.

“Can I sleep in your room with you?” Patton wondered if Thomas had even breathed in between the words, but he still nodded. He then realized Thomas wasn’t going to open his eyes to see his answer, and his heart practically broke at the sight, that Thomas was so nervous around him.

“Of course, Thomas.” Patton said, and the boy only lifted his head for a moment to smile slowly at him. Patton lifted his arm out to point towards the bedroom and Thomas ran, rushing past Patton, stopping only to kick off his socks and hop onto the large bed.

Patton turned his attention to the man who in midst of his and his son’s moment, had been on the floor, hidden by the couch. He was laid out over the floor, his pants at his ankles and his shirt discarded, and when he looked up at Patton he had a blush over his face, that ended just before the bottom of his glasses. Logan shoved his pants off the rest of the way, smiling awkwardly as he flopped his head back onto the ground.

“I hope I did not disrupt your moment with Thomas. The emotional capacity in the room sort of jump scared me.” Logan said.

“You’re adorable.” Patton blurted out, watching the man before him stumble into even more of a blushing, stuttering, mess at the moment as he

“I-I-am-not.” Logan stood up, keeping his hands behind his back nervously. Patton scanned over him though, as Logan turned his head to look behind Patton at the door of his bedroom. “I think you-should-uh”

“Goodnight Logan.” Patton nodded, turning away and heading to his bedroom with the tiniest of smiles at the fact that Logan was still mumbling to himself when he closed the door.

He took a moment to take a deep breath and flail his hands out giddily, before stepping towards the bed where Thomas was cuddled underneath the most popular blanket in the whole house. The large dark blue fluffy blanket with white ship anchors all over it, the very one Patton often found himself draping over his two boys during Roman’s sleepovers, was covering Thomas’s head dramatically as he laid in the fetal position. Patton took off his pants, laid them out over the chair and also stripped his shirt for good measure. Thomas had a dark blue shirt with black and white soccer balls all over it on, as well his black night shorts that stuck out against the blankets.

“Goodnight Thomas.” Patton said, laying on top of the bed, reaching over to turn off the light and as he leaned back against his pillow he was greeted with his son throwing himself on top of his chest.

“Dad?” Thomas whispered again.

“Yeah, kiddo?” Patton said, wrapping his arms around Thomas and pulling him tight up towards his neck. The room was quiet and Patton could feel the boy’s breath on his collarbone but he didn’t mind, the chills actually helped him remember that Thomas was here, Thomas was safe.

“I want to switch schools.” Thomas was speaking through tears, Patton could feel them on his bare chest, and he took to comforting Thomas before answering.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Patton squeezed him a little tighter, unsure of who he was trying to convince, Thomas or himself. “I’m not going to let you get hurt again.”

“I love you, Dad.” Thomas mumbled already half asleep, his small body extremely fatigued from the emotional stress it went under today. Patton ran a hand through his hair, letting the strands fall from the space between his fingers slowly as he watched his hand move through the dark room.

“I love you too.” Patton pressed a kiss to Thomas’s head and listened as his son’s breathing slowed, signally he was asleep.

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