#and how gee maybe is somewhere in the middle but as a person from his past

[grapejuicegay]

there is a parallel between mhok fixing day's shoes the moment day wants to use them again and august not only not finding a replacement for day's hair band but also not being able to find day a gift that isn't hie own head band which is tne thing they shared and that day has no possible use for anymore and more than just pity it was the very clear implication that august made that day's life has ended with his lack of vision and that everything in his life is the things that used to be there before. where even with the shoes mhok had been asking day to go for a run for a while and he refused to until august asked but mhok never touched the shoes until day asked him to and he also added some changes like the bright neon shoelaces (easier for day to see so he can maybe tie them himself? don't talk to me....) and a little pin of his favorite flower because that is a thing day still likes and the bright colour is a thing he likes NOW and the shoes are something he wants to use NOW do you see what I'm saying here

[oathofoaksart]

sandwich a la speedster

Perching her head on interlaced fingers, Lei watched Wally line his knife across the top of his sandwich.

He kept making microscopic adjustments to the blade, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth from the effort. One millimeter left, two right. Finally after a few more rounds of the kitchen hokey-pokey, Lei said, “Oh my God, Wally. Cut it.”

“Almooost…” Wally kept his eyes still fixed on his sandwich, but didn’t move any faster than he had been.

Lei gestured vaguely at the set up strewn over the kitchen counter– half a fridge’s worth of ingredients she was pretty sure weren’t meant to be together. “You could’ve been done ages ago.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Wally said, finally sawing through the first layer of his triple decker. “And I happen to like the process.”

“Well.” Lei snipped without any real fire, “Like the process faster.”

He laughed and sucked a bit of mustard off his thumb, his sandwich now cut perfectly down the middle. “There’s merit in taking things slow, y’know, have a little respect for the art.”

“It’s three meats on rye.”

“It’s the human experience.” Wally said with a gleam in his eye.

“Oh-kay.” She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder, but she didn’t hide the lacing laughter in her tone.

“Our ancestors have been stacking stuff between baked pieces of grain since the dawn of civilization.” He said, tapping the counter in emphasis, “Every sandwich is our connection to our forebearers. Our history. Our…”

Wally looked out somewhere beyond Lei’s head, but judging by his faltering expression he’d exhausted his muse.

“Essence of life.” Lei suggested.

“Essence of life.” Wally agreed as he wrapped a half of his sandwich in a plastic sheet– taking care of folding it neatly– before handing it to her.

“I’m out of gold leaf.” He said when she hesitated, “Sorry, Miss I’ve-Got-A-Personal-

Michelin-Star-Chef.”

Lei rolled her eyes and snatched it from his hand, spinning the seat of her chair as to turn her back on him. She shot a smile over her shoulder, “It’s two personal Michelin chefs and their respective crews, thank you.”

“Oh, gee. My bad.” He said around a mouthful.

Lei studied her half of the sandwich. It didn’t look half-bad. Sandwiches weren't her go-to food the way it was for Wally– who swore up and down were acceptable for all three meals of the day– but she’d been forced to miss lunch earlier.

That was the excuse she gave herself when she took a sniff, quickly followed by a bite. She hummed appreciatively, turning back around to face Wally.

“I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.” He said, reaching out for it, only for his response to be a swift slap of his hand. “Ow?” Wally clamped his sandwich between his teeth, rubbing at the sting.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Lei said quickly, making sure she took another extra big bite. She was hungrier than she thought she’d been and she didn’t like how Wally thought she was too good for ‘normal’ food.

He was right, of course, but she didn’t like him thinking she wouldn’t take something he gave her.

And, honestly, it wasn’t a bad sandwich. A little heavy-handed on the mustard and she wasn’t a fan of the brown flecks on the lettuce. Cheddar wasn’t her favorite cheese. But all in all, she could almost say she liked it.

“Alright, West.” She said, “Maybe you have something there.”

He snorted. By some miracle —likely because he still hadn’t found a way to safely dislocate his jaw— Wally hadn’t stuffed his half into his mouth. “Jimmy John’s would go to war with Subway for me.”

“I meant your little ‘human connection’ thing.” Lei peeled away more of the plastic from her sandwich, surprised she’d already eaten half way through it. “I can’t remember the last time someone made a sandwich for me for the sake of it. It’s nice.”

Wally swallowed with a little more effort than Lei was comfortable with. He lifted up his remaining bite in the air, it took Lei a minute to realize he was proposing a toast, “May our bread be the foundation of a greater We…Bologna, an extension of our heartstrings…and the weird, kinda green thing that was chillin’ in the back of the pantry our bond that lives through time.”

Lei closed her eyes, choosing to ignore that little tidbit. She lifted her own remaining piece of dinner. It wasn’t much smaller than Wally’s. “Hallelu.”

They tapped their bites and ate.

—

it’s the way i’ve had this sketch for over a year. and it let it be known lei expects wally to make her sandwiches from then on.

[funficwriter]

Some random lore for Tartaglia x Recruit!Reader AU

Hellooooo, my lovely readers. First of all, I'm so sorry for the long absence, college is whopping my butt. Yesterday, I tried to find comfort in thinking about one of my favorite AUs (gee I wonder what it could be) and thought up some random lore!!

If you remember my first full fic, "An Attempt to Escape", I mentioned an oath more than once. What would it look like if it was a little more fleshed out? Who gets to recite it?

We don't know much about the Fatui's system, so here's how I imagined it: Each two seasons or so, a new cadet class is taken. It takes a while to graduate them, because the organization is very strict on their quality. Simply put, the Fatui are the best. In order to keep it that way, the recruits must be the best.

You see, most of the cadets graduate as typical recruits; They are managed by middle-ranked captains, they do usual patrols and the like. Some may be less keen on fighting, instead immediately graduating as diplomats. As we know, they're very useful to the Fatui, and there's actually a shortage of them (I HC Pantalone graduated like this), because you have to be super persuasive and charming, enough to make up for the lack in other skills. It could even call for a talent that you either have or you don't. This is already seen as prestigious, but another type reigns over.

This is the rarest, but every few cycles or so, a couple of very exceptional cadets make it to the Harbinger legions. They'd have to be crazy good at being at what they do for a sliver of such a chance. These squadrons are generally composed of experienced recruits, who probably spent years sacrificing their blood, sweat, and tears to be there. It's no joke of a position. To graduate into one of those is the ultimate honor and responsibility, and usually a sign that the recruit will score something huge for the Fatui, and by extension, Schneznaya as a whole.

You, for example, were personally handpicked by Childe, who kinda likes the cadets. Not in any way that he'd recruit them more, mind you. He thinks they're cute in a sense of reminding him of his cadet days. He, too, was remarked for his talents early on. Perhaps that is part of the reason he kept an eye on you during your cadet days. Talent knows talent.

These special cadets attend an additional ceremony to pledge their loyalty to the Harbinger in question, which happens immediately after graduation. Oops, you're gonna miss some partying.

This takes place in a designated courtroom. Present are higher ranking officers and the Harbingers, but Tartaglia is in the middle of the room, with Pulcinella who generally officiates it. The small table holds your badge, each legion having a different one. There's rumor of the Tsaritsa watching from some hidden corner, maybe somewhere up high, but it doesn't have enough proof to be fact.

Your future Lord hides it well, but he's excited, too. You're so adorable and useful, a dangerous double combo.

After Pulcinella introducing you, dare I say, praising the prodigy, you walk in to claps, hardened smiles as if saying: "Good job, kid.". You make your way to them and raise your right hand. Your left one is on the table, and Lord Tartaglia puts his on top of yours. This is supposed to symbolize hierarchy and the new leader-recruit bond; Though he's higher in rank, you're needed. You're important.

This is gonna sound unofficial, but there's rumor of you avoiding Lord Tartaglia's look at first, because you got bashful. Whether that be due to his looks or status...

Pulcinella asks you to recite your loyalty oath. Here's how it goes:

I will remember this winter night as my coming-of-age. I am no longer a cadet child, but a Fatui recruit. And I am not just a recruit, but one honored to be in Lord Tartaglia's legion. So here I make a promise to him, the Tsaritsa and Schneznaya.

I will heed his orders, even at my own risk. I will place him above all but the Tsaritsa herself. I will fight until my hands are bloody raw, persuade until I have used all human language, if that is what he wishes to see.

I swear, upon my Fatui-granted prowess, honor and that of my future legion: I will serve my Harbinger Lord beyond my capabilities. He will be my leader, my priority, my calling and I will be his finest tool as he sees fit for the Tsaritsa's will.

It took a lot not to shiver or say a word wrong. As more claps emerge through the room, adrenaline pumps into you. You're important because you're exceptional.

Pulcinella shakes your hand and steps aside for Tartaglia. He takes the new badge and pins in on your top, close to the heart as per tradition (of course, you can change its placement later). Something tells you he's enjoying this part; For one, you're supposed to look at him now. You also felt the heat on your cheeks, meaning he can clearly see it.

No one else can hear it but you, and maybe Pulcinella if he has good ears, but he chuckles and whispers: "Congrats, cutie.".

Don't blush challenge, level impossible.

When the badge is finally fastened, you salute and more claps emerge. You can't help the huge smile on your face, but your instructor told you it's okay during the rehearsal. A good sign, even.

Speaking of the badge, I HC that Tartaglia's has a whale on it. It's designed in a very sleek way; This shade of blue doesn't clash with your clothes and shines just right. Enough to make itself seen, not so much that it's tacky.

Your Lord will be VERY insistent that it's visible. Most recruits wear it close to the heart, some on their hip like a vision... He doesn't care about where in specific, as long as it's on your person, so it's clear who you belong to. There was one time he was complaining and exasperatedly said: "He could wear it on his ass for all I care, just do it!". You laughed a lot once the meeting was over.

There was one time you showed up without the badge. You love wearing it, really, but you woke up late and got ready in a rush. That evening, he was a little ominous about it:

"Loyalty is the most important thing to me, as a Harbinger and as a man. Especially when it's sworn. I expect it out of the best of my officers."

"Ah, you mean the badge. I'm so sorry, my Lord! I woke up late and was rushed-".

"I know you wouldn't do it on purpose. It's okay. It happens, sweetie. Just make sure this is the last time. Wouldn't want anyone forgetting to whom you've sworn yourself."

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

A Glorious Moment in Sakaar

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: You’ve always disliked Loki, but when you end up stranded with him on an unknown planet, you put your hatred aside in order to work together. Turns out, the only thing you really hate is how much you actually like him. 

Warnings: weapons, violence, enemies to lovers, implied smut

A/N: Had this in my drafts and just decided to post it... I’m definitely in a Loki mood on this fine day haha. 

I hope you all enjoy and as always, feedback is appreciated :)

Loki Masterlist

Out of all the people in the world who you could’ve gotten stranded with on an unknown, trash planet, Loki is the last person you’d wish to accompany you. 

As soon as the two of you get thrown off the Bifrost and land on random dirty roads, he speaks. “Well, this looks rather unpleasant.” 

Rolling your eyes, you don’t bother to respond, instead opting to scan the area around you. Wherever you landed, it’s heavily polluted. 

“I think I’d rather have ended up in Hel,” Loki complains, his hands on his hips as he surveys with you. 

“I wish you had.” 

Loki looks over at you and chuckles. “What? Don’t want to be stranded here with your favorite God?” 

You pretend to frantically look around. “What do you mean? I don’t see Thor anywhere.” 

“Very funny.” 

“I know I am,” you say before smirking at him and walking away. Loki is quick to match your pace. 

“Let’s try to find some type of civilization and figure out an escape plan.” 

Continuing to walk, you head towards a tall skyscraper-like building that you see in the distance. “Already on it.” You point ahead to show Loki. 

Loki scoffs. “No need to point. I noticed it a while ago.” 

“Sure you did.” 

“I did. I’m a God for crying out loud. I sense things long before-”

A knife sits at the base of your throat, stopping you in place. You look over at Loki who’s in the same predicament. 

“Loki?” you ask before you’re pulled back harshly, the knife lightly grazing your skin. Loki growls, lunging towards you. 

“Hurt them and you’ll all suffer merciless deaths by my hand.” 

You gasp at Loki’s protectiveness. Is it possible he cares for you? No, don’t even think about it. You hate this man. Remember?

The man behind Loki laughs at him before looking over at his partner. “I think the Grandmaster would like this one.” 

The person behind you nods. “Let’s take ‘em in.” 

You share one last glance with Loki before a bag is thrown over your head, preventing you from seeing anything else.

---

The bag’s removed from your head and you squint, your eyes adjusting to the harsh overhead lighting. You’re strapped to a chair, seated right next to Loki. 

In front of you is a man. He’s tall in nature, just like Loki, and he’s smiling at the two of you. 

“Where the hell are we?” You ask, struggling against the restraints. 

The unknown man walks up to you before speaking. “Now, there’s no reason to do that. I’m just simply feeling you out before deciding whether to kill you or not.” 

Again, Loki speaks up, surprisingly coming to your defense. “You’ll have to get through me before you even think of touching them.”

The man laughs at this and turns his attention onto Loki. “You must be the one they said I’d like… Seems like they were right. I do like you.” He claps his hands together. “Okay, so here’s the deal. You’re on my planet, Sakaar. I’m what they call the Grandmaster and usually with newcomers, I’d either kill them or throw them into the pits… which I guess is also death, but that’s not the point! The point is I like you two… especially you.” He points at Loki. “So, great news! You’re welcome to stay, I mean once people land here, they never really leave…” He awkwardly smiles at that, not knowing what else to say. 

You look over at Loki, who’s already staring your way. The two of you gaze at each other silently before the Grandmaster once again claps his hands. “Let’s get the cuffs off these two!” 

Once the cuffs are opened, you rub your wrists and stand up. The Grandmaster motions for the two of you to get away. “Go! Go mingle and have some fun!” 

You look around the room and notice a gathering of people a few feet away. They’re all drinking and dancing, seemingly having the time of their lives. 

You grab Loki’s arm and guide him towards the crowd. “C’mon, we gotta find a busy area to talk.” 

Loki pulls his arm from your grasp. “Shouldn’t we find somewhere quiet to talk privately?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, because then someone might hear us.” 

“So instead, we’re to talk in the middle of a gathering?” 

Shaking your head in irritation, you gesture towards the group of people. “They all seem drunk! Sounds like the perfect opportunity to blend in and discuss.” 

Loki sighs. “Very well. I need a drink first.” 

As he walks towards the bar, you once again grab his arm, stopping him in place. “What’re you doing?” 

“I just told you. I’m getting a drink.” 

“We need to be level-headed for this.” 

He scoffs. “Darling, I really think you’ve forgotten that I’m a God. I can’t get drunk.” 

“Yes, you can. I’ve witnessed it multiple times.” 

He shakes his head. “I was just full.” 

“That’s not the point! Just please-” You look towards the dancefloor. “Dance with me.” 

“Pardon me?”

Instead of answering, you grab his hand and drag him over to the other dancers, pulling him flush against you, your back to his chest. You swear you hear Loki gasp as you sway your hips against him. 

“What’re you doing?” His mouth is right next to your ear, his hands moving to grip your waist tightly. Your body heats up with his touch and you want to scream over its betrayal. 

You turn your head slightly to look up at him. “We need to blend in.” 

As he stares down at you, you get lost in his eyes. They’re an exquisite, light blue, pulling you in and making you forget about the situation around you. Erasing those thoughts from your mind, you focus on the plan. “I say we find where their weapons are placed. Steal some and then find a ship to escape back to Asgard on.”

“Your plan sounds impossibly easy.” 

“Maybe it will be.” 

“You know just as well as myself that it won’t be. But, I’ll go along with it. It’s not the worst of plans you’ve thought of and I fear we don’t have many other options.” 

“Gee, thanks.” You spin around in his arms so you’re now facing him, chest to chest. Loki’s staring down at you, his eyes blazing. One of his hands moves to your face, grabbing your chin and tilting your face upwards. He licks his lips, his tongue sliding out to swipe across his bottom lip. You watch and you can’t help but wonder what his mouth would feel like against yours. 

He leans down until his face is only inches from yours and you find yourself panting with a neediness you haven’t felt in a long time. Loki’s staring at your lips, ready to claim them for himself-

You remember where you are and pull away quickly, putting some distance between the two of you. “What’re you doing?” 

Loki grins. “Just blending in, darling. You didn’t seem to mind.” 

Trying to steady your rising heart rate, you take a deep breath. “Let’s just go find their weapons.” 

Loki gestures for you to walk in front of him. “After you.”

---

Finding and stealing weapons turned out to be easier than you thought. Loki managed to grab multiple knives, as well as the same giant gun that you did. 

Now, you’re heading towards the ship’s garage, intending to steal the best one you come across. You’re in an elevator, heading up to the top floor. As the doors are about to open, Loki puts his arm out in front of you. “I hear voices on the other side. Follow my lead.” 

You nod your head. The doors open, revealing two guards with guns. In an instant, Loki has them both on the ground, knives stabbed into their chests. 

He turns to look at you and grins. “Told you they’d come in handy.” 

“You just wanted to show off.” 

“For you? Always.” 

You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today and follow Loki towards a large, circular ship. “You think they’d have more guards in this area.” 

Loki walks over to a station pressed against the wall, searching for the ship’s key. “You’d think, but let’s not stick around to find out.” Once he locates the key, he picks it up. “Ah, got it!” 

The elevator opens back up, revealing ten new guards. 

“Uh, Loki?” 

Loki turns just in time to see five guards running full speed at him. He laughs before throwing the gun to the floor, placing the ship key in his pants, and pulling out two knives. “Well, hello. This is going to be fun.” 

Across the room, you’re shooting at the other five guards, backing up as they move forward. You manage to knock three of them to the ground and drop the gun as the other two come running at you, full speed. 

“Y/N!” Loki yells. 

You turn to see him throwing you a knife and you catch it midair. Turning back to the two guards, you smirk. “Unfortunately for you two, I’m rather skilled with knives.” 

“Not as skilled as myself though, just to be clear!” 

You chuckle at Loki’s comment. “That’s what he tells himself to sleep better at night.” 

Right after you say those words, you’re lunging at the guards, slicing your knife into one of their thighs. They hiss out in pain and you use the opportunity to grab them, placing your knife at the base of their neck. The other guard rushes you and you kick out, hitting them square in the stomach before dragging your knife across the captured guard’s neck, causing him to fall to the floor. You fall down and roll over, jumping back onto your feet before the other guard can tackle you. 

Maneuvering around the guard, you swipe your leg out, tripping him up, causing him to fall to the floor. You roll onto the floor behind him and wrap your thighs around his neck, effectively cutting off his air supply. Once he’s knocked out, you get back up, wiping sweat off the top of your eyebrow. Loki is staring at you, an impressed look on his face. You stare back at him, admiring how he looks. He’s leaning against the ship, his hair disheveled with his arms crossed over his chest. The guards he fought are scattered across the floor, each one either dead or knocked out. 

He walks up to you, his tall frame towering over you. “It was rather hot to see you beat up those guards.” His hand reaches down towards your face, his thumb wiping a few spots of blood off your cheek. 

You close your eyes, trying to get a hold of yourself. When you reopen them, Loki is back over towards the ship, looking at you. “Ready, darling?” 

Letting out a shaky breath, you will your legs to follow him onto the ship.

---

A gentle shake to your shoulder wakes you up. Slowly opening your eyes, you come face to face with Loki, who’s looking down at you with a small smile on his face, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You stare at his hand and he pulls it away before clearing his throat. 

“We’re almost back at Asgard.” 

You nod. “How long was I out?” 

“Two hours? I didn’t want to interrupt since it was the first time you looked peaceful in years.” 

Getting up, you glare at him. “Has anyone ever told you how charming you are?” 

“As a matter of fact, yes. Quite a few.” 

“I’m shocked.” You walk to the front of the ship, taking a seat in the pilot’s chair. “This thing on autodrive?” 

Loki moves to take a seat next to you. “No, I figured I’d let it go so we can crash into the nearest crater and die. Put you out of your misery.” 

“Out of my misery?” 

“Yes, since you so clearly hate being around me.” 

Sighing, you turn the chair so you’re facing him. “Who said I hated you?”

Loki mimics you. “Nobody. I can just tell.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Well, maybe a little. But, not for the reason he thought.

He raises an eyebrow. “No?” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “It’s fine if you do. Most individuals I’ve encountered end up hating me.” 

“Well, I’m not like most individuals.” 

He smiles at that. “No, you’re most certainly not.” 

Nervous, you start picking at the arm of the chair. It’s Loki, for crying out loud. The man you can’t stand. So, why is he making you feel this way?

“You almost kissed me in Sakaar. Why?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can even think about the consequences. However, Loki doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he seems excited by the question, his eyes lit up in amusement. 

“I told you. We needed to blend in.” 

“We were already blending in by dancing. No one was even sparing us a second glance.” 

“No? Well, maybe I just wanted to kiss you then. For my own pleasure.” 

His confession spills over you like a bucket of ice water. Your body is both hot and cold, feeling too much at once. 

Your mouth slightly opens as you gasp quietly. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

All of a sudden, Loki’s moves closer to you. Too close. You can feel his breath wash over your face as his hand slowly crawls up your arm. “I may lie quite frequently, but when it comes to you, I only tell the truth.” 

With a surge of confidence, you grip the front of his leathered shirt. “Prove it to me then.” 

He growls before smashing his mouth onto yours. His lips are everything you’ve ever imagined. Soft and unmistakingly yours. 

“You’re mine now, darling. All mine,” he whispers into the kiss. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you onto his lap, your legs dangling off the sides of the chair. “Say it. Say you’re mine.” 

“I’m yours,” you manage to say, moaning when he bites down on your lower lip. 

After one more kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. “You and I, darling, have a lot of catching up to do when we get back.” He runs his fingers over your thigh. “The things I’m going to do to you. You better prepare yourself.” 

Gulping, you shiver at his promise. This ship couldn’t get you to Asgard fast enough. You’ll let him ruin you, from the inside-out. But, only him. Only Loki. You grin at the thought before leaning in to kiss him again.

[themandylion]

97 & 41 jaytim

Oh wow, this ended up long. /o\

97 (Time Travel) + 41 (First Kiss) + JayTim

He's boosting tires in the Bowery when the thugs find him. Crowd him up against a wall and threaten him with bodily harm for horning in on their territory, even though this part of the city is a free-for-all, with no one reigning supreme. There's three of them to his one, all of them full-grown men with bulging muscles and nasty tempers and Jason knows he's in his final moments, that there's no way he's escaping this. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to go down without a fight. He squares his shoulders, plants his feet, raises the tire iron in his hand, and—

Between one blink and the next, the back-most thug is on the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch. There's a blur of red, and then the next one's down on his knees, the crowbar he was gripping half a block away and the hand that was holding it pinned to the wall by a slim, sharp-edged disk.

Silver flashes through the night, and the final guy collapses in a heap, just sprawled out on the pavement like he's not even human anymore, just a pile of discard clothes over something lumpy and unmoving. Someone lands on his back, light and nimble and impossibly tall. "You okay there, kid?" the new person asks, crouching down so he's at Jason's level and smiling.

"…Batman?" He's only ever seen the Bat from a distance before, but he's heard about the cape and cowl, and this guy has both.

The guy shakes his head. "Nope, not him. I'm his partner, though."

"Robin wears green," Jason feels compelled to point out, because he's definitely seen Robin before, though always on the TV, when the Teen Titans are fighting really scary bad guys elsewhere in the world.

This time, a shadow seems to pass over the man's face, sad and unhappy. "I'm a different kind of Robin. Red Robin. I'm pretty new, it's not surprising you haven't heard of me." He leans back on his heels and glances around at the thugs, frowning. "I've got to tie these guys up and leave them somewhere the GCPD will find them. Do you think you can get home on your own?"

Jason gulps, staring up at him, at the way all that tight leather and spandex hugs his body. Gee whiz. "Yeah, I. I can take care of myself. Thanks!" He surges forward, practically smacking his mouth against Red Robin's cheek, before running off into the night. Maybe not headed home, but to as close as anything gets, these days.

---

Two weeks later, Batman catches him boosting tires on Crime Alley. A week later, he's going home with the man. Jason asks about Red Robin and gets a confused, clueless look, which is strange. With everything else happening, he forgets about the man in the black cowl with the silver staff, but he still finds himself drawn to that one particular shade of red.

---

He forgets until the memory is jarred out of the deepest depths years later on the other side of the multiverse, when he's bound to a chair and staring down the barrel of gun. A gun held by another Batman, a different Bruce. One who did all the things he thought he wanted his Bruce to do, only to end up a broken man as a result. Jason tries to explain himself and his presence, but it's hard to when he keeps seeing that suit in the case over this Batman's shoulder.

They reach an understanding, a kind of peace. Both of them, finally, for the first time in ages. This other Bruce offers him the suit, and Jason doesn't think twice before putting it on. He's traveled across the multiverse, seen places where dead people live again, where evil people are good and vice versa. It's not too far a stretch to believe that somehow, he's going become his own childhood hero.

When he finishes pulling on the last piece, Bruce looks on him with pride and announces, "Red Robin lives!"

"Red…?" Jason murmurs, more than a little startled. It's been so long, he'd nearly forgotten the name, but it fits, it makes sense. Finally, he's back on the right path, back to being someone the boy he once was could be proud of. Will be proud of, when their paths cross again, which he's sure they will.

---

The other Batman dies.

---

They get back, finally done traveling across the multiverse, fleeing across Apokolips, running from plagues and maybes and might-have-beens. Donna and Rayner return to wherever they call home, and Jason... He thought he finally found himself when he put on the cowl and became Red Robin, but with everything that happened after that moment, all the contrition he gained has been too long stewing in a half-broken heart. He isn't sure who rescued him when he was a kid, but it wasn't him, and it wasn't the long-dead Jason of another world. Maybe it was no one at all, and he made it all up and convinced himself it was real.

He runs back to Gotham, strips off the cape and cowl, the bandoliers and leather. Throws it all in the trash and goes to knock some heads and blow off some steam, anything to escape from what the rest of the Justice League brought with them—a sob story and a broken, days-old body.

---

The suit disappears from the can where he threw it, and he thinks good riddance to bad rubbish, but the person who's wearing it now doesn't understand the significance, the legacy. Doesn't know what it symbolizes, a last chance at redemption, a final loss of innocence.

The new kid distracts him, muddies the water and still Jason doesn't see it, doesn't realize what's happening. Even when the kid takes the cowl, adds it to his green-free suit, he doesn't see it.

Jason's too busy fighting, too busy screaming, raging, being angry at himself and the world to realize how things are swirling tighter and tighter, closing in, twining together, weaving themselves in an intricate, impossible mesh that's new and old and always existing all at the same time. The three of them—him and Dick and the new kid—push and shove and fight and scream and grieve in their own ways, trying to figure out who they're going to be now, what the world is without Bruce.

He ignores overtures of friendship, leaves the kid broken and bleeding out and thinks nothing of it, still too busy hurting and too busy denying he hurts.

Thinks nothing of Robin back on the streets in red and green and black and yellow, a different boy, an actual child.

---

Bruce comes back, but he's just as stubborn as always, and Jason burned the last of his bridges while the old man was playing possum. There's nothing left for him to do but lurk in the shadows and grit his teeth and watch Drake bounce around the city in a costume that isn't his, telling himself he doesn't care, that it doesn't rub him the wrong way.

Doesn't actually realize what's happening until one day he's watching as Drake races across the city, ready to step in and stop him if he dares to cross into Red Hood's territory when suddenly—

There's no one. The roof's empty, not a soul in sight.

He swings over, investigates. There's a strange acrid smell in the air along with the faintest traces of sweat and exhaustion, but there's no clue to where he's gone, no hint. Minutes pass and the sky is getting darker as evening turns into night. Just when he's given up, Drake reappears, but still, unmoving. One hand grasping his staff while the other touches his cheek and he stares into nothing, dazed and unfocused.

His attention snaps up, and Jason is too startled to move, still standing there in the middle of the roof, the two of them locked in place.

"Holy fuck." He can't. This isn't—

He's tried to kill Drake multiple times over the years. They've barely had a conversation that hasn't ended with Jason drawing a knife or a gun, and more often than not he comes out on top. Leaves the guy knowing that he's alive at Jason's mercy.

But now he's standing there, finally grown into the Red Robin suit and name, filling it in all the right places, all the right ways, grasping a staff that Jason somehow failed to recognize until this exact moment.

"I never—" He never thought to make the connection, always assumed it had to be someone else, some one huge. Big enough to match the larger-than-life figure that dominated a half-forgotten memory.

"Huh." Red Robin collapses his staff, clips it his belt. "Random time blip? I didn't even realize."

Which would explain it. Of course he didn't realize—no way would he have helped that other, younger Jason if he'd known who it was. Why save a boy who's going to grow up to become a monster bent on destroying him over and over again. "Sorry," Jason says, startled, confused, unable to wrap his head around it all as he stumbles backwards, tries to do what he always does when he's confronted with too much, too fast—run.

Red Robin—Drake—tilts his head to the side and then does something completely unexpected. He shoves back the cowl and studies Jason with cool, clear eyes. "I have a feeling this has been a weird night for both of us. You could stick around. We could figure this out together."

So help him, Jason hesitates. "Time travel is pretty weird."

"I was thinking more being kissed by my childhood crush. But yeah, that too."

"Your… what?"

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand. "I think it's time we finally talked. Maybe without the death threats this time?"

Gulping, Jason takes that hand in his.

It's not much, but. It's a start.

(The Fanfic Trope MASH-UP is still open for asks!)

[passivenovember]

Boys on the Radio.

Harringrove April, Day Seven : Daisy Chain.

--

Steve has very high standards when it comes to men. Unbelievably rigid, according to Nancy; hilariously unattainable, according to Robin, and understandable, according to the one man that actually matters. 

Billy tells him that the privilege of not simply “taking what you can get,” comes from equal opportunity. 

The fact that Steve can sign up for Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, and HER without having to set his dating pool to only men, only brown eyes, 5′11″ or taller, himbo, must like dogs, must want nachos when drunk--means he shouldn’t have such a hard time finding someone to get coffee with, and yet.

Steve finds himself on the couch with Robin on Wednesday night, anyway. Swiping through a caste of 25+ gym rats and an inbox full of u spit or swalll-o, baby girl. 

Wishing and praying for a sign, like. Something to prove he’s not deflective. 

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Swipes left on four guys with fifteen pack abs, Jesus Christ, searching for someone he knows will never materialize. 

Steve hates his life. 

He throws his phone down on the couch before picking it back up again, and. Opening Tinder once more.

“Billy gets so much dick on these stupid apps, it’s not even real.” Steve complains, after swiping through, like. Ten guys within walking distance alone. “How does he do that?”

“Easy. Billy knows his type.”

Steve considers Marcus. His chorded arms and tattooed thighs. His Incan Temple chest piece, before. 

Swiping left. 

“How the hell does he actually get what he’s looking for? I see these guys and, like. They seem perfect. Funny, smart, successful. Completely my type on paper, and then--”

“Just say you’re holding out for Billy and move on, Stever.” Robin’s phone dings. She dives for it, grinning and typing out a response, and like.

Steve hates her.

He scowls. “I’m not holding out for Billy.” 

It doesn’t sound right, even to his own ears. Robin peeks at him over the top of her messaging app, smile going lopsided in the middle. “’S fine. He’s holding out for you, anyway.”

Steve really, really hates her.

He opens Facebook and scrolls through his feed, stopping to comment a series of heart emojis on a picture of Billy and Max hiking somewhere in White Water State Park. 

Billy looks. 

Like Billy. 

Golden curls cropped close to his head, eyes squinting as the photographer catches him mid laugh, nose bunching up so. 

Adorably.

That Steve’s heart skips a beat. That the heavens fuckin’, like. Open, and shit, to shine on a delicate daisy chain around his forehead. 

Steve can’t believe he almost missed it. He spends five minutes picking the right color of heart emoji. Yellow and orange, with a sprinkle of stardust, and then. Another three deciding how many to include before closing out of Facebook entirely. 

Reluctant to prove Robin right.

Steve opens Tinder and promises that when the next face pops up on his screen, he’ll lower his standards. Be more chill about the whole thing. 

Actually read the bio twice and message back before deciding that no one could ever compare to--

Steve swipes left on Tyler.

Almost immediately, because. Look.

This guy is cute. Curly blonde hair and green eyes, but. Unfortunately for dude, his name is Tyler, for fucks sake. 

And unfortunately for Steve he looks too much like. 

Yeah. 

Robin makes a noise, all, “What’s wrong with that one?” Her eyes sparkle mischievously and Steve wishes she were off getting laid or something. “Besides the fact that he’s not Billy.” 

“His name’s Tyler,” Steve says. Like it should be obvious. He scrambles for something else, something tangible, before landing on; “And his teeth are too square.”

Robin stares at him. Sets her phone aside before pinching the bridge of her nose, like, “His teeth are too square.”

“Yep.”

“You’re impossible.”

Steve clicks his tongue. Clicks out of Tinder. Clicks into Bumble. Running into the same problem again. 

Too pretty guys with too straight teeth and too many abs, just. 

Terrible. 

“Maybe I should lower my standards.” Steve says, after another you got real pretty DSLs bby, from some fuckface claiming that Sundays are for Jesus and tan lines.

Men are hopeless.

Men are terrible, Steve wishes Billy was here and not on vacation.

“Maybe.” Robin smiles down at her phone, again, cheeks going bright pink when Barb says something so fucking witty, Steve, I’m in love. 

Steve frowns. “You can talk about her, dude.”

“Talk about who?” Robin sits on her hands. Swallows a smile. “Barb and I only just met. I’ve been stuck with you for years.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Robins phone dings again. She ignores it. “I don’t think your standards are the problem.”

“If you fucking--”

“Just admit that it’s only been ten years and you’re finally spreading your legs for the guy who includes a description of you in his dating profile.”

He really wishes she were out getting laid.

“Allegedly,” Steve says. Because; “I’ve never actually seen any of his dating profiles.”

Robin opens the message from Barb, grinning to herself, or. To the gods of chaos she seems to be in council with fucking always. “That’s because if you ran across one you’d swipe right.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.” Robin counters, not even bothering to look up from her phone. “Billy is exactly your type. Funny, smart, adventurous. Daddy issues. Has a thing for leather.”

“Dude--”

“Wearing leather, putting his partners in leather. Kinky but knows how to cook and clean, and how to take care of a bratty sub.” Robin puts her phone away, shrugging when Steve tosses a pillow at her. “Face it, man, he’s exactly your type. On and off paper.”

Steve wants to crawl under the couch and bury himself under the floor boards.

“I thought the whole point of online dating was to get out of your head about types and shit.”

Robin snorts, like, “No one actually believes that. We’re all just dating the same person over and over again. Making the same mistakes so we have something to complain about when our friends invite us over for wine.”

And. 

She’s not wrong. She’s never wrong. Steve, just. Knows what he wants. Who he wants. Steve aches and pines and yearns for Billy Hargrove. To cuddle up next to the fifteen-pack of abs he’s been obsessing over for years, and. 

Swear of this God awful dating sites for good. 

But. “Barbara isn’t your type.” Steve says, like. AHA! Pointing an accusatory finger that Robin nods away. 

“She’s exactly the type of girl I should be with, and exactly what I’ve wanted all along.” Robin says politely, but her eyes say fuck you I’m right. 

Just like now. Like always. 

Steve takes a deep, steadying breath. “Okay.”

Robin blinks at him. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Steve mutters, because he’s a team player. He can admit defeat, especially for a battle that was lost to blue eyes long, long ago. 

But. He opens Bumble, shrugging sheepishly. 

“One more swipe for old times sake?”

“Steve--”

“One more swipe to prove that I should be focusing my dick elsewhere.” Steve says. He feels tears burning, sharp and mean, behind the lining of his throat. “I just need a sign, like. Something to give me the courage.”

Robin watches him for a minute, and.

Must see the way he’s barely holding it together, finger tapping incessantly at the loading screen. Her phone goes off once again, breaking the tension. 

Steve takes that as a yes. 

He closes the app and opens it again. Bumble plays through an ad for Candy Crush and Steve finds it hilarious that happy endings come with a price tag. A thirty second video telling him what he needs, and then. 

The guy on screen is perfect. 

Golden skin, bright blue eyes. His bio describes a perfect boy, a perfect date, profile stocked full of personality. 

Skateboarding and surfing on the coast. Tattoos and leather jackets. Metallica concerts and. 

A boy in a flower crown. 

Billy describes his perfect boy as brown eyed beauty, 5′11″ or taller, preschool teacher. Must like dogs. Must want nachos when drunk--

And when Steve finally, finally swipes right: It’s a match.

[odos-bucket]

So I was reading @andillwriteyouatragedy​‘s incredible Brand New Day where Bruce and Clark adopt a young Dick Grayson together, and was thinking about a sort of companion story where they take in Jason together too. Using that story as a rough reference, I’m gonna say they’ve been together for a decade or so here. Dick is somewhere in his late teens. I’m figuring Clark probably offers to tag along on Bruce’s annual trip to crime alley every year. Bruce always politely declines. It’s basically become a part of the day’s bleak tradition. Clark is surprised when for once his offer is accepted. Later on, if pressed, neither of them would be able to pinpoint what was different about that night that made Bruce decide that it might be okay to have some company for once. Clark probably feels weird about it at first. Even though he’d asked Bruce if he wanted company, and Bruce had said yes, which he never would have unless he’d absolutely meant it (and Clark knows that). It still feels a little like he’s intruding on something private, even sacred. Then of course they get there, and there’s nothing going on. Superman’s senses don’t pick up the slightest hint of disruption anywhere in the neighborhood. Maybe they start patrolling around it anyways, maybe they just wander for a couple of blocks. Sooner or later they overhear someone talking about how it’s this night every year that Batman comes calling. Local criminals have picked up on the fact that if they just keep their heads down for this one specific night they can pretty much avoid him. Bruce is all grumbly about it, and immediately goes into ~strategy mode~ like, “Okay, I’ll have to start coming here on different days, on an irregular schedule.” He immediately opens up a dozen different tabs in his brain with calendars, and crime statistics, and is thinking a mile a minute, because that’s what he does. He’s kind of agitated about needing to change something that’s been a ritual for so long (because Batman has OCD, fight me) and he’s annoyed at himself for being bothered by it. Absolutely none of this sudden inner turmoil is detectable in his expression or body language. But Clark knows Bruce, knows how he reacts to things, and that there’s no way he’s not annoyed right now. He says, “Sounds like tonight will be a bust if we stay here,” then when Bruce grunts in response, continues, “We could go back to the manor. Watch a movie.” Then after a pause. “Or we could patrol somewhere else.” A moment passes. When Bruce says, “Okay,” Clark isn’t sure which suggestion he’s agreeing to, but they start back towards the car. It’s not a long walk, but they aren’t moving particularly quickly. By the time they get back to the batmobile it only has one wheel.

Clark frowns as he walks closer, before being stopped in his tracks by a surprising sound. It’s a sound that he recognizes immediately, that he hears all too infrequently. Bruce is laughing. Clark’s mouth quirks into a half smile. He takes a few steps forward, thinking about just picking the whole thing up and flying it back home. Then from a few paces ahead he hears Bruce’s low, gravelly Batman voice say, “Hi there.” Once he’s tuned in to the idea of another presence nearby, it becomes obvious to his advanced senses that someone is lurking behind the car. “Shit,” a small voice says. Bruce takes a few steps closer. “Planning on finishing the job?” He gestures to their remaining wheel. Clark shifts until he can get the kid partially in his sight without the aid of x-ray vision. He’s small, and looks to be somewhere in his pre-teens. “I got no idea what you’re talking about,” he says quickly. “Oh really?” Bruce asks. The boy glares at him. “Nice tire iron,” Bruce continues. “Comes in handy.” “I bet it does.” No sooner than the words are out of Bruce’s mouth, the tool is colliding with his shin. The boy shoots out from behind the car, and down a nearby street. Clark starts toward Bruce, who quickly gestures for him to go after the kid instead. He catches up with him in less than a second. When his hand falls onto the kid’s shoulder he freezes, muscles tightening throughout his body, and heart rate speeding up rapidly. The fear response is so sudden and extreme that Clark finds himself pulling away as if he’s been burned. The anxiety around being feared is something he’s mostly left in his past, but there’s a deep rooted insecurity within him that it still prods at. The kid stumbles when he starts to run again, and by then Bruce has caught up. They hang back, but trail after the boy at a distance, until they reach a condemned building a few blocks away. “Should we go in?” Clark asks. “Probably where my tires are,” Bruce says, before climbing through an uncovered doorway. It isn’t hard to find him again. There aren’t too many heartbeats in the area to distinguish between. When Bruce opens the door to the dilapidated room, the boy’s pulse rate jumps through the roof. Nothing changes externally about him though, and Clark wonders whether or not Bruce can tell that he’s afraid of them. There’s the slightest vibration to his words when he speaks. “Okay, take your stupid tires already. I’m sorry, all right? Just leave me alone!” Bruce isn’t looking at his tires. He’s looking around the room, no doubt noticing the same things that Clark has, mold, water damage, a broken window. The place is freezing. Then in the corner there’s a cardboard box with some pasta and canned goods in it, a small stack of books, and a mattress on the floor. “Do you… live here?” Bruce asks. “Yeah. What of it?” Bruce takes a few more steps into the room. “Where are your parents, son?” Clark asks. “Mom’s dead. I dunno where Dad is; don’t really care, if I’m being honest. Now take your stuff and go already!” He’s holding the iron up again, wielding it in a manner that’s clearly meant to be threatening. Bruce plucks it out of his hands with relative ease, inspects it, then turns it around and hands it back. “Move your thumb up like this, and you’ll have a sturdier grip. And don’t stand with your legs so far apart, it’ll put you off balance.” He sighs. “What’s your name?” “… Jason.” He grabs the tire iron back, shuffling to adjust his grip and footing, keeping his stance defensive. Bruce looks around the place again. “You can’t stay here, Jason.” “Oh yeah? Says who? I can take care of myself! Been doing it for long enough.” Bruce glances up at Clark, who can see the wheels turning in his head, before looking back at Jason. “I’d really like the wheels of my car back,” he says carefully, then hurries to continue before Jason can interject. “Can I make you a deal? We’ll buy you dinner if you reattach the batmobile’s tires?”

There’s a fast food place a couple of blocks away that’s open 24 hours. Jason agrees to accompany them, but walks a few yards behind. The employees at the place aren’t at all phased by the appearance of the two vigilantes. Bruce inspects a suspicious stain on one of the walls, while Jason and Clark look at the menu posted above the counter. They order- Bruce gets two of what Jason asks for- then go outside to eat. Bruce is lost in thought as they exit the restaurant, wondering what it would take to bring free food trucks to the area. Jason’s halfway done with his meal by the time they sit down on the sidewalk. “Do you go to school around here?” Bruce asks, wanting to put together a fuller picture of the boy’s situation. Jason gets a distant look in his eyes in response to the question. He finishes chewing slowly, swallows, then shakes his head, clearing his throat before replying. “No. Not for a long time now.” He shrugs. “I got all I needed to out of it.” “You had some pretty advanced reading material back at your place for someone who didn’t finish middle school.” Bruce recalled seeing The Odyssey amongst his few possessions, as well as a couple of Shakespeare plays. Jason shrugs again. “Reading’s not that hard.” “Some people find it very difficult,” Clark says. “Some people are stupid.” Bruce cuts in before Clark can start on the gentle reprimand he can see him preparing. “Ever think that maybe you’re just smart?” Jason gives him a curious look, like that really wasn’t a possibility that he had considered before, then takes another bite, and stares off thoughtfully. “So, Homer,” Bruce prompts. Jason nods. “It’s a fun story. Odi-seuss is a dick though.” Bruce resists both the compulsion to correct his pronunciation of ‘Odysseus’, and Alfred’s voice in the back of his head urging him to tell the kid not to swear. “What makes you say that?” He asks instead. Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe all the pillaging, and murdering he does throughout the entire book.” “Poem,” Bruce corrects. “What?” “The Odyssey is a poem.” “Wait, really?” Bruce hums an affirmative. “Huh… cool. But the point still stands.” “I’m inclined to agree with you. Have you ever read The Scarlet Pimpernel?” Jason shakes his head. “It’s been a personal favorite for a long time,” says Bruce. Clark shoots him an amused grin. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone throwing out a copy,” Jason says. Bruce frowns. “You have a library around here.” The remark earns him an unamused snort. “It’s a Gotham library; people don’t go there to read books, they go there to buy, sell and/or ingest drugs, and they tend not to be too happy with anybody who’s lingering around while they’re doing it.” Bruce feels a pang, not for the first time that night. “Jason,” he starts, before realizing he isn’t sure what to say. Jason keeps angled to watch him expectantly as he rises to deposit his napkins and bag in a nearby trashcan. “We’d like to help you,” Clark says. “Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “Right. Just how do you plan on doing that? Because I’ve heard that before. I’ve done the whole foster care thing already, and I’m not about to go through it again.” “No,” Bruce is quick to agree. “But there are residential schools in the city. We could help you to get enrolled in one.” Jason seems taken aback by the offer. “…Why?” He asks slowly. “Well for one, because kids should be in school. You’d be provided with room and board for the duration of your time there, which would leave you with less to worry about.” He reaches out to pass Jason the second takeout bag. He’s still lingering at a distance from them. “At least think about it?” “No. I mean, like, why?” Bruce’s eyebrow raises, tugging at the material of his cowl. “What’s in this for you?” Jason continues. “Why do you even care?” “It’s our job,” Clark says. “You’re job is to beat up bad guys.” Clark smiles when Jason mimes punching someone, before saying, “Our job is to help people.” Jason purses his lips. “Don’t boarding schools cost money?” “Most of them offer scholarships,” Bruce says. “I have a few friends who are deans. I could make the necessary introductions to ensure you a place at one of their institutions.“ Jason’s arms are crossed high over his chest, and his expression is set like he’s deep in thought. “I don’t want to end up stuck somewhere where someone else is the boss of me.” “How about you at least come with us to check a couple of these places out,” Bruce suggests. “Just see how you feel about them. No commitment.” Jason’s nose scrunches up. “Where exactly are these places?” He asks. “It varies,” Bruce says. “All within the city.” They watch the boy chew on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Just to see,” he says eventually. Bruce nods. “I’m not getting into a car with you,” Jason adds. “We can take the bus,” Clark offers. Jason raises an eyebrow at that, and his mouth quirks almost into a smile. “Batman and Superman are gonna ride on Gotham’s shitty public transit?” “Why not?” Clark asks. “… Okay,” Jason says, still plainly unconvinced. “Let’s meet back here,” Bruce suggests. “Tomorrow?” Jason takes a minute, but eventually starts to nod. “Sure,” he says. “Why not.” They part ways after Clark disposes of his empty bag. The heroes return to their car.

While they’re driving back Clark says, “I know that look.” Bruce pauses to take stock of his own expression, and makes sure to neutralize anything on his face that might be out of the ordinary. Clark continues, unbothered by the lack of response. “It’s your ‘I’m already deeply emotionally invested in this kid’ look.” Bruce hums noncommittally. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” Clark adds. Bruce doesn’t either, but that’s par for the course at this point.

Part Two

[sinnergetreadymp3]

CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC

Uhhhhh I feel like I should give this a title but I have no idea what to call so uh, nevermind !!

Anyways,I finally finished the fic I said I was writing like,a month ago lol. All my Chameron stans out there this one's for u,I rlly hope at least one person enjoys this,I rlly enjoyed writing it !! Ok sappy stuff outta the way,here it is:

As rain pounded against the window Charlie sent what was probably the thousandth crumpled ball of paper across the room.

"Jesus Charlie,is your arm not getting tired?"

Charlie smirked at that, clearly preparing to make a dirty minded joke,but a thoroughly exhausted Richard Cameron was already one step ahead.

"You know what,forget I asked, you're gross."

Getting up from the seat at his desk and ignoring an indignant retort from Charlie, Cameron thought of the rest of his friends,out for the weekend. Todd and Neil celebrating their one year anniversary, Meeks and Pitts embarking on a two day road trip,for what they still claimed to be, entirely platonic reasons (although the rest of the poets were all too aware of the almost palpable romantic tension between them). Even Knox had found something to do with himself on this miserable Friday night.

And here Cameron was,stuck in his dorm with nothing but stacks of extra homework and his obnoxious roommate to keep him company.

Speaking of that obnoxious roommate, "Oh come on Cam,you're not seriously going to bed already,it's barely eight!"

"Shut up Dalton,I'm tired."

Refusing to admit defeat, Charlie sprung from his own bed into Cameron's, attempting to wrestle the poor boy from his comfortable position.

"Charlie,get off you psycho!" Cameron managed to get out, already laughter threatening to give away just how welcome his friend's childish antics were.

After a few more minutes of "fooling around" as Charlie insisted on calling it (mostly because of how profusely it made Cameron blush),the two boys lay breathless beside each other,trying desperately to think of something else to do that would ward off impending boredom.

After a few moments of comfortable silence,Charlie suggested,looking expectantly towards the ginger, "Wanna go to the cave?"

With extreme,mind numbing boredom as motivation, it was inevitable that Cameron would say yes. It certainly helped that Charlie was gazing at him with those oh-so convincing doe eyes of his. Charlie Dalton and his stupid,gorgeous eyes. And his stupid,gorgeous smile,which Cameron was abso definitely not thinking about as he got up and grabbed his coat.

The two boys trudged through the woods,bickering lightly when Cameron complained of the cold that Charlie apparently couldnt feel at all,but always with an unusually friendly air between them. Before long they were sat together in the middle of the cave,sharing an apple that Cameron had managed to salvage from somewhere (a feat Dalton was of course impressed by),and trading stories of girls and parties galore. In Cameron's case, the stories of girls were few and the parties were from years long before even middle school,so Charlie did most of the talking.

After a while though,the boys came to discussing their friends,and the luck they all seemed to have in finding each other so easily. Charlie, ever the romantic,made no waste of his extensive vocabulary,tediously lamenting on all the opportunities of love he had missed and the everlasting loneliness he was doomed to,all because his dashing knight in shining armour would never come to find him and-

"Why dont *you* just find somebody?"

Charlie,still sprawled dramatically over a rock ,and mildly offended at the interruption,indignantly questioned "What do you mean?"

"What I said? You dont just have to wait around for somebody to come find you and fall madly in love. Why don't *you* just find somebody?"

He thought for a moment,taken aback by the ginger's harsh words,but eventually decided to humout him for a moment.

"And where exactly do you suggest I find him then, hm?"

Cameron shifted in his seat,not expecting to be taken seriously and certainly not prepared to be giving advice. Especially not *this* kind of advice. Especially not to *charlie*.

"Well,uh," he looked up to see the other boy looking at him expectantly,with that ever-present smirk on his face that, oddly enough,made Cameron feel a little more comfortable.

"Maybe,you could,I don't know, consider that the guy you're looking for has been here the whole time?"

"Wow Cam,Pittsie and Meeks' radio must've really gotten to you. All those love songs have turned you into a big softie." Charlie joked,grinning and nudging Cameron playfully.

Through a soft laugh,Cameron continued, "No I'm serious man,I think you're making this whole love thing way harder for yourself. I mean- and be honest with me, what's actually wrong with the guys at our school?"

"Other than the fact that about three quarters of them are raging heterosexuals?"

Laughing again,Cameron replied "yeah,other than that."

After about zero seconds of careful consideration,he had come to a conclusion, "Well,I guess nothing,but I dont know? Cameron, I don't see how this changes-"

"It *changes* things because clearly you don't anything about half the guys at our school. And you can't write off people you don't even know." At some point, Cameron had gotten up and started pacing around,but with the end of this triumphant speech,he finally sat down,a little closer to the other boy than he had been before.

Charlie looked across at Cameron and was suddenly met with a wave of fondness. Weird,how all it took was to sit and talk for a while before someone you thought you near hated,started to feel like your favorite person in the world. And,was he going completely crazy or Cameron at his most comfortable, without the fear of a teacher lurking nearby,without the stress of constantly trying to prove himself,was he... A little..... attractive??

All at once,Charlie made a decision,partly to try and prove himself wrong,but also because hey,if Richard Cameron was the surprise love of his life,what better time to figure it out than right now?

"So how,sir Richard Cameron,do you propose I get to know all these charming suitors?"

Cameron, completely in the dark about Dalton's recent epiphany,was still stubbornly trying to explain how much easier Charlie's love life could be,if only he would let it.

"Well,maybe by actually talking to them? Y'know,kind of like,What we're doing right now."

"So,what you're saying is,*you* could be my knight in shining armor," he said with a smirk.

"Well,that's not what-"

"No,no it's fine,as long as we're talking about this version of you. Regular Cameron is kind of a buzzkill but Cave Cam is actually a kind of.... And I can't believe I'm saying this but,in here,like this...well. You're actually a little hot."

After this, overwhelmingly romantic confession, Charlie was certain he had completely stuffed it,and sure enough,

"Gee Charlie,thanks. Really makes me wanna ride into the sunset with you." To say Cam's ego had been hit was an understatement,but before he could make a swift exit from the cave and lock himself,alone,in his dorm for the rest of the weekend,of course Dalton kept talking.

"God,I'm sorry,that was, I have no idea why I said that. I thought I was being funny but out loud- god I'm so sorry," while he had initially been mad,seeing Charlie fucking Dalton blush (and because of *him* no less) was rather funny. And sure,a little cute. So Cameron decided to hear him out.

"Can I start over? You're not saying anything so I'm gonna start over. I,uh, I really do think you're hot. Like really hot. And not just right now,all the time,like that time we were at rowing practice and I started pushing you around and we ended up on the floor and I saw like,a single sliver of skin because your sweater had ridden up,and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day,which I thought was a little weird but then-"

"Uh,I think I get it,Charlie." Now Cameron was the one blushing.

"Uh,sorry. What I meant was,that I *do* think you're hot l-"

"As you've said"

"Yeah,yeah,but it's more than that. Like,when I realized we'd basically be spending the whole weekend alone together,I was actually sorta excited for that,even though I knew I'd just be sitting by you while you did homework the whole time,I like,wanted to do that. And tonight,I haven't talked like this with anyone who isn't Neil like,ever. What I mean is,I guess,is that,I think that uh,"

Deciding to lighten the mood,Cameron tried for a little sarcasm, "Wow,Dalton, stuttering? I must be superman or something."

"I'm trying to be romantic here Carrot top," Charlie said with a grin,

"Listen,I don't really know what I'm doing here,but I think it might be kinda nice if we tried having a little romantic weekend of our own. Just to try it. If it totally sucks we can pretend it never happened and the others don't have to know about it and-"

"Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Relax," Cameron said with yet another laugh ,he didn't think he laughed like this since... Well,he couldn't even remember.

So with a radiant smile on his face,he said,"A romantic weekend of our own sounds amazing. Gotta warn you tho I'm not a great kisser."

"Well, lucky for you I am a great teacher," Charlie replied,with a somehow even bigger smile on his face than Cameron's,

"Why are you laughing,I *am* a great teacher!" Unfortunately for Charlie,his indignance only made Cameron laugh harder.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"If you shut up and stop laughing,maybe you'll get to." After this was all it took to get the ginger to sober up, the look on his face pushed Charlie to make his final,but (in his opinion) most important decision of the night.It was high time he flirt with Cameron way more often (which was *very* difficult to explain to the other poets,at least the first time).

[servingy-nneeds]

PLEASE DON’T NOTICE ME

WHAT KIND OF YANDERE ARE THEY?: IZUKU MIDORIYA (aged up)

TRIGGER WARNING: OBSESSIVE and STALKER BEHAVIOR, a bit manipulative

OBSESSIVE TYPE

This type of Yandere tries to learn everything about you. They won't necessarily try to hide you away from others but you can bet that they have all your info written, memorized like the back of their hand and yet they think that these weren’t enough; for you it was NEVER enough.

He doesn’t know when his obsession started with you, maybe it was back then when you cheered for him in he UA festival; or maybe it was back when you cared for him, more times than he can count, when he was regularly admitted at the hospital.

‘Just kidding! ‘

Click!

He chuckled softly as he took another candid shot of you while you were busy looking for your keys, ready to retire the night, after hours holed up in office work.

He remembered exactly when he started pinning after you. It was back in middle school when he started loosing hope in becoming a hero. He remembered all of his classmate’s taunt, the teachers and  neighbors apologetic look set on his way as he went home every sunset, hell he knows even his own mother pathetically sobbing, hopes for him becoming a hero already lost.

But you were different. When no one believed in him anymore, when he himself believed that he wouldn’t get a shot a becoming a hero anymore. You were there, HIS no.1 fan as you said.

“Hey now! turn that frown upside down, no matter what, I’ll always be your number one fan future Pro Hero Izuku! Here give me your signature!”

“What do you mean this doesn’t count as hero signature?”

You might think your little cheering had little to no impact to him that day, and that you were just being nice to him, a teenage boy crying pathetically with his ruined notebook by the school’s fountain.

How wrong you were.

Everyday after that he started trailing after you like a moth to a fire. You even joked that you imprinted to him, which wasn’t far from truth, if only you knew.

At first he thought it was enough knowing that both of you have each other’s number and is mutual on EVERY social media accounts. Until it wasn’t enough anymore and he had to make an excuse to take you home in order to know exactly where your house resides.

And then it just went downhill from there, he started stalking round your neighbor trying to figure out on which of the three rooms upstairs is yours. Thereafter he created a timetable of your everyday schedule with pinpoint accuracy,in order to ensure you mysteriously bump into each other every time you went shopping for grocery.

Only then, he knew he was obsessed with you, when he started stalking all the social media accounts of those around you trying to figure out if there is someone out there putting on moves for you. Thankfully for THEM there is none.

After that he started collecting random stuff you used. That new eraser you borrowed from him that one time? It’s still in mint condition somewhere in his collection.

Your used item slowly accumulated in his collection: little notes passed down from each other, pictures taken saved both on hard drive and picture albums, that straw you took a sip upon, that time you lost a favorite pair of undies.

If you asked what’s his most prized possession? not that you ever would. It would definitely be that used band-aid that he lent to you when you scraped your knees during PE back in middle school. He admits it was quite difficult to rummaged through the thrash without looking like a fool and preserving this item, blood and all.

Going back at present truly he thought you were the cutest when your clueless to him stalking you for hours at time today, after all the gods may have blessed him for giving him a day off from hero’s work he thought. You’re HIS no.1 fan after all, what kind of hero lets his fan get hurt or worse taken away by someone else.

Tucking away his camera where its memory almost filled to the brim with photos, recordings of your voice and videos of you. He stalked further away removing his hood and sunglasses replacing it with a random hat he brought and added a face mask in order to hide his identity. After fixing himself up he started going the opposite direction of your house towards the convenience store. Giddy at the thought of sharing each other’s company in the next ten minutes or so.

Entering said convenience store he walked around picking up random produce looking at the store’s digital clock it read 6:30pm. Just then the store’s automatic door opened, any normal customer would have thought that this would indicate a person’s arrival or departure. Not him though.

‘Right on clock as always’ he thought smirking to himself placing himself at the next isle containing ready to eat products.

“Psst Izuku is that you?” he heard a soft whisper. Followed by a soft tap on his shoulder another hoodie had been added to his collection

“Yeah y/n?” turning around he tried to sound surprise removing his hat a bit in order for you to get a good look at him.

“Thank goodness, it was really you” you replied beaming him with your smile he’s obsessed too much loves all too much.

“Oh right here, I might have something you want” he said removing a keychain from his camera lace and handing it to you. Another type of keychain from his merchandise, a rare one you think.

“Gee you don’t really have to do this every time we meet you know” you said  happy albeit a bit confused at the prospect of receiving another small trinket from the no. 1 Hero himself.

‘Classic Pavlov’s conditioning’ he thought sneakily hiding a smirk.

“Oh right taking a picture of town’s scenery again?” you asked pointing at his camera resting on his chest.

“Hahaha yeah, hobby never left me since middle school you know?” he replied lightheartedly.

“Umm, I know you don’t really have time, but do you want to grab coffee sometimes, you know for old time’s sake?” you asked hurriedly and bashfully scratching your nape. Thinking that maybe he would turn you down knowing that maybe his schedule’s packed to the brim

“Sure, do you mind if I pick the place and time?” he answered a bit hurriedly you noted. ‘Gotta have enough time to place video cameras discreetly’ he thought darkly to himself.

After a little bit more of shopping around, with him trailing beside you. You both now found yourself outside the convenience store with grocery bags in each other’s hand.

“Looking forward for that coffee date you owe me then?” you asked hoping that he wasn’t pulling your leg with your request.

“Sure. Sorry I can’t walk you home, things to do back at the agency”

Liar

“Don’t worry I’ll hit you up with the time and place tomorrow at 7:00- 7:30am, you still have the same number right?” he responded.

With that you agreed happily, knowing that you were usually up and about at that time, thankful at the fact that he was considerate of your schedule. A bit too considerate with the time frame.

“Oh right, do you mind if you keep that keychain with you all the time? Hate for fans to know that you have an unreleased merchandise after all” he added making your retreating form paused at the sudden request.

“Its that rare?!” you asked incredulously looking at the keychain in amazement.

Later on after promising of the trinket‘s safety he watched your form slowly walk away from him. Pulling out a small device he smirked to himself as he saw two circles, the smaller one indicating of his position and the much larger one moving indicating of the item’s shifting position.

He figured this should suffice for now.

[kolachess]

DMBJ 2010 Nangongling Interview Translated

I’ve finally (poorly) translated the infamous Nangongling interview with Nanpai Sanshu (aka Xu Lei, author of DMBJ)! 

This is where that famous quote, ‘My lifetime, in exchange for you a decade of innocence and purity’ comes from. More on that here.

Interview Context: First off, in case you don’t already know, NPSS started DMBJ off as a fanfiction. And more on that here. Hence, his style of engagement with fans will be much more direct and why he’s very... knowing of the fandom world. And why the interview does not hesitate to ask about pingxie.

This interview seems to have been conducted somewhere on the internet in 2010 or nearing it. Although I couldn’t find more confirmation on its ‘authenticity’ so to speak, I also haven’t seen anything to the contrary that this might be made up. (Chinese internet is a strange, strange place...)

Here’s the version I’m basing this off of.

Translation Context:

Ok first, I’m a native Chinese speaker, but grew up in the US and not fluent in reading / writing. I am not at all familiar with a lot of idioms, let alone internet slang and pop culture references (of which there are a lot in this interiew), so there will be a lot of guessing. Anyone who knows better, free free to point it out.

Text Legend:

Parenthesis indicate actions / reactions. E.g. (smiles awkwardly)

[TN: ...] are my notes

[??? some words ???] indicate major uncertainty in translations

== or =w= and such symbols are emojis from the interviewer

Original text sometimes had random forward slashes in between what seems should be one word / term. My guess is it might be to skirt censorship?

Names Context:

They use a lot of different ways to refer to the various characters and NPSS

The interviewer calls NPSS ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘Sanshu’ a lot. But Sanshu can also refer to Wu Sanxing... so it gets confusing a bit.

Zhang Qiling can be anything from Menyouping to Pingzi to Lao Meng to Meng... just... anytime there’s ‘Meng’ or ‘Ping’ or ‘Zhang’ it’s safe to assume they’re referring to ZQL.

Wu Xie is often just Wu Xie or Tianzhen

Nangongling is the name of the interviewer

Interviewer:

Interviewer: Your Majesty, come interview. After this, we’ve got to sleep.

NPSS: OK. Let’s go. Be gentle.

Interviewer: Oh Your Majesty, you’re so shy.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask Sanshu, is DMBJ ultimately a tragic or happy ending?

NPSS: For some, a tragedy. For some, a regular drama. For some, a comedy. For some, an absurdity.

Interviewer: That’s no different from not answering! ==

NPSS: But that’s the correct answer.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: What’s the relationship between Tianzhen and ‘It’? Your Majesty, care to give a spoiler? ==

NPSS: No relationship. [TN: ‘No relationship’ and ‘No problem’ are the same phrase, hence the subsequent answer.]

Interviewer: Then go ahead and tell us. =w=

NPSS: No relationship.

Interviewer: … No relationship?

NPSS: Yup. No relationship.

Interviewer: … ==

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask Sanshu about the plan for DMBJ, when might you finish it?

NPSS: 2010.

NPSS: The problem is…

Interviewer: What?

NPSS: There is an unexpected situation.

Interviewer: Don’t give us cliffhanger sentences. Just tell us. ==

NPSS: Maybe [??? Something about being possessed ???]. I might work on it till 2050.

Interviewer: Hey!

NPSS: It’s great.

Interviewer: Might as well make it a Gundam series. [TN: Gundam is referring to the Japanese anime series. I guess they’re making a joke about how he should turn it into a never ending universe / entire franchise.]

NPSS: Conan never grows up. Wu Xie will never get old either. [TN: Conan is referring to Detective Conan, another Japanese anime series.]

NPSS: Even when you all become old, Wu Xie in the book will still be pursuing the answer to all the mysteries.

Interviewer: And if it’s with Lao Meng forever mutually loving and caring, then we have no objections.

NPSS: Fifty years, Golden Wedding  [TN: Think he’s referring to Golden Wedding as the 50th anniversary].

Interviewer: Yes, yes. Don’t know if there will be a son. (Tea) (Silence) [TN: I guess the actions indicate ‘sipping tea awkwardly in silence’]

Interviewer: Alright, His Majesty has become shy. Let’s continue onto the next question.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask what the Menyouping’s ending will be? Will he find his memories? Continue to live on? Your Majesty can’t because of Classmate 370 [TN: Rumors are this is NPSS’s classmate? Potential prototype for ZQL? See ref.] once scorned your [??? finger ???], you end up holding a grudge?

NPSS: Whether or not you can ‘fujoshi’ for 50 years is uncertain. [TN: Word is ‘fu’, which literal = ‘rotten’; but refers to fujoshi. AKA he’s questioning how long they’ll ship pingxie for.]

Interviewer: No worries. In the future, there will appear a lot of Li Yinhe grannies. [TN: Seems to refer to this LGBTQ activist.]

NPSS: Hands / feet have not fallen off, OK? [TN: I’m not sure what this is referring to lol. Maybe some play on the rotten nature of fujoshi.]

Interviewer: Hands / feet… the whole body?

NPSS: The meaning of ‘entirely not fallen off’ is ‘entirely not fallen off’. [TN: Idk I’m lost...]

Interviewer: … ==

Interviewer: Your Majesty, your resentment for 370 is too deep…

NPSS: Menyouping’s ending will definitely surprise you all. It’s definitely not something that can be conceptually considered at all.

Interviewer: Could it be that he really will be mutually loving and caring with Tianzhen? == It’s not in concept…

NPSS: Hn. That’s a nice thought. [TN: Tone reads a little like ‘ha, as if’.]

NPSS: Like, turn him into a woman or something. Or is it Wu Xie who turns into a woman?

NPSS: “Actually, I’m a flat-chested Mary Sue.” [TN: Lol, yes. They refer to Mary Sue omg.]

Interviewer: … hey now… == Speaking of Mary Sues, after Yun Cai is it Xiu Xiu? Your Majesty, you wouldn’t gift Yun Cai to Lao Meng, and Xiu Xiu to Wu Xie, right? ==

NPSS: Maybe I’ll write Lily stories. [TN: I think Lily stories refers to femslash / stories between two females.]

NPSS: Don’t underestimate my pervertedness.

Interviewer: I’ve never underestimated it… (serious)

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask what Sanshu’s current weight is? Are you losing weight? Hahahah (Hands akimbo)

NPSS: Now it’s probably a little less than 200 jin. [TN: ~220 pounds.] I’m always in the middle of losing weight, but fat really likes me.

Interviewer: Your Majesty, you should continue to make effort to cosplay Pangzi.

NPSS: I think I will exceed Pangzi’s category soon, cosplay a huge monster instead.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: When will the DMBJ movie be released? Who will play Pingzi? To be honest, I don't want to watch. ==

NPSS: Probably around 2015. I don’t know. Hope it’s not [??? black people ???]. [TN: Yeah that’s what it says, but idk if it’s a reference to type of personalities or it actually is referring to skin color. Wouldn’t surprise me if it were a racist remark. China, sigh.]

Interviewer: Could it be there really will be a movie?

NPSS: Probably.

Interviewer: In America?

NPSS: I can’t say I understand / know Hollywood’s situation.

Interviewer: So it’s America… (Tears running) Too tragic!

NPSS: Hei Xiaoge [TN: Lol I think he’s saying a black young lad] is also not bad.

Interviewer: No! No! No!

NPSS: A-ning has already been designated the female lead by a foreign scriptwriter.

Interviewer: Oooh ~~~ We don’t want to see ghosts ~~~ [TN: Idk what this expression is…]

NPSS: Little D might be able to accept. [TN: Idk who Little D is… might just be a slang way of writing ‘little brother’, in which case, I still don’t know if that’s referring to himself or someone else.]

Interviewer: I guess he will squeak along with me. [TN: Again… I’m lost.] Nope cannot anymore. Next question.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Will there be romance?

NPSS: [??? Eloquent love ???] will have porn scenes.

Interviewer: … who and who?

NPSS: Not sure yet. One party should not be human.

Interviewer: Heavy tastes, Your Majesty.

NPSS: Tentacles.

Interviewer: …… Your Majesty, are you playing some XXOO games recently? [TN: I’m just gonna assume some hentai shit here.]

NPSS: Nope. Haven’t played in a long time. Got any good suggestions?

Interviewer: [??? The imperial doctor has ghost glasses ???] [TN: Guess it’s the title?] Try it (rubs hands).

NPSS: I’m currently still holding out strong.

Interviewer: Gee… what a pity.

NPSS: You can train your boyfriend.

Interviewer: He’s already very calm.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Pingzi is so good to Wu Xie, any particular reason? I mean deep underlying reason? For example, knowing the truth about Wu Xie’s life / existence or something. Or being entrusted by Wu Xie’s family or something. Or he thinks he’s brought Wu Xie harm and wants to redeem himself or something.

NPSS: Just doesn’t want to disturb.

Interviewer: Huh? What?

NPSS: Don’t want to disturb.

Interviewer: Disturb what?

NPSS: Tianzhen Wu Xie [TN: Remember, this means ‘innocent, naive, and pure’]. The prompt is very deep now. [TN: Sounds like he’s saying he’s given a deep hint now.]

Interviewer: Oh (Actually someone who doesn’t really understand). [TN: GLAD I’M NOT ALONE! IT’S NOT A TRANSLATION ISSUE!]

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Are there new Lunar New Year Celebratory Extras this year? [TN: NPSS writes occasional extras, and often will publish on special occasions like Lunar New Year.]

NPSS: 2010’s publishing work was too heavy. Can’t celebrate. I even wrote the outline already.

Interviewer: That’s such a pity. What about Tibetan Sea Flower. I’m still waiting for the lama that has JQ with Lao Meng. [TN: They use the term JQ here… seems like slang for something like bromance.]

NPSS: Ah little living Buddha… probably can’t write. [TN: Yeah idk what that really means…] Due to religious issues, living Buddha’s chrysanthemum is very sensitive. Huge crawling creatures will come and bombard. [TN: IDK BUT CHRYSANTHEMUMS ARE OFTEN EUPHEMISMS FOR THE ANUS AND GAY BUTT SEX SO IDK.]

Interviewer: Hey… ==

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Qinling Sacred Tree arc was too mysterious. Will Sanshu later be connected to the Sacred Tree? If so, how will you do it? I think DMBJ is not as thrilling / exciting as before. Can you still return to that previous style?

NPSS: There are no plans at present to connect Qinling. I need to settle Meng first. The core of what’s being written is his business. The excitement of DMBJ is not found in the novel but in the heart of the reader. The reader will upgrade / improve while reading.

Interviewer: Is that so… (Eats late night food) [TN: Idk what this expression means.]

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Will you still publish new books and dig new plot holes? == Besides this official vest of Nanpai Sanshu, do you have anything else? Like diving party? == [TN: Yeah idk what that means…]

NPSS: Doesn’t returning to the original style of writing offer you some thrilling / excitement? Your heart has already upgraded, it’s just that the novel is still like that.

Interviewer: Heart! ==||| [TN: Yes, this is another face lol]

NPSS: There’s still some more. Like Nangongling. [TN: Name of the interviewer, but I have no idea what this means.]

Interviewer: The watch drags me underwater. [TN: I got nothing *shrugs*.]

NPSS: Actually are we answering our own questions?

Interviewer: Haha, fun right?

NPSS: Indeed. Could it be a split personality? Never thought my hidden personality is a Fujoshi. Tragedy.

Interviewer: Hey I didn’t say my hidden personality was a perverted uncle yet. (Two bored idiots stare in silence for a few seconds) 

Interviewer: Enough. Next.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Pingzi’s age… is it ‘uncle’ or ‘grandpa’? Anyway, I know it’s not ‘brother’. [TN: They’re referring to which generation basically.]

NPSS: Taizu Grandfather [TN: Basically hella old… great-great-great-great-great-grandfather?]

Interviewer: Wow… paleontology relic?

NPSS: Age must be in the triple digits.

Interviewer: Old monster! I like it! Just afraid that next to Tianzhen, he seems younger (talking to self)

NPSS: Tianzhen is even older. Quadruple digits.

Interviewer: Really is younger? ==

NPSS: They all end up in the museum display.

Interviewer: Does it cost anything to visit? Museums are now free / open to visit.

NPSS: After hour events charge fees. There are special programs, but the TV station will not allow them to be broadcasted.

Interviewer: Strip tease / dancing?

NPSS: No. It’s the old monster [TN: Probably referring to ZQL]  performing Xiangsheng [TN: Some Chinese duo comedy schtick]. Xie Ling [TN: I think this is Wu Xie + Zhang Qiling?] social / not-famous Xiangsheng actors.

Interviewer: Looks like it will be Two-Person Turn Opera [TN: Idk if there is an English term for this… but another type of skit it seems.]

NPSS: Wear the dancing shoes. [TN: I think it’s just this?]

Interviewer: … It’s so cold… Your Majesty…

NPSS: Zhang Wenling, Wu Wenxie [TN: Lol I guess this would be their comedy stage names. It’s extra / intentionally stupid because all he did was insert ‘wen’ which means ‘literature’.]

Interviewer: Enough… Don’t worry about this anymore. I’m gonna move onto the next question.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Is Wu Xie the most tragic character in the entire novel? Is it inevitable that, between him and Pingzi, one of them will have to die in the end?

NPSS: Wu Xie’s fate as the most tragic is a set tragedy, but Lao Zhang doesn’t have it easy either.

Interviewer: And then?

NPSS: Delayed the inevitable tragedy.

Interviewer: And then they encountered tragedy together?

NPSS: Using [his] own lifetime to exchange you another decade of innocence and purity.

Interviewer: … (wailing) (too stunned) Lao Meng [??? became the Virgin Mary???] (smashes wall)

NPSS: I also want to get a cult.

Interviewer: Does Lao Meng really not have a crush on Tianzhen? It can’t continue like this. DMBJ is still a serious / proper drama after all.

NPSS: Nah. It’s serious / proper.

Interviewer: But what you said is crooked.

NPSS: Alright. Then let’s put it this way.

Interviewer: How?

NPSS: Comrade Zhang Qiling sacrificed his own time to save and prevent the disillusionment of a youth who was about to go astray. [TN: Yeah… not too sure about the implications of this.]

Interviewer: …. Your Majesty, you [??? use soulmates ???] [TN: I’m really not sure about this… context and definitions I found seems to indicate it’s a soulmate like thing, but also used kind of queerbaity?]

NPSS: I’ve been working real closely with soulmate recently.

Interviewer: We can tell. Next question. Best leave some room for free thought.

NPSS: It’d be fine if you just don’t post it.

Interviewer: This is iron proof of JQ! [TN: Again, some internet slang for bromance / malexmale CPs or something.]

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Are all the incomprehensible things that happened so far man-made? Or will it be explained by the supernatural?

NPSS: There’s nothing incomprehensible.

Interviewer: Probably in reference to Qinling.

NPSS: Oh. Doesn’t that count as a spoiler?

Interviewer: … then let’s skip again. Actually, I thought you already forgot about Qinling.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: What is Pangzi’s little secret?

NPSS: Xiao Pang’s [TN: Little Fat’s] tragic past.

Interviewer: What… Pangzi is also quite tragic.

NPSS: Probably a ‘fought with his best friend over a woman and was hurt very badly’ kind of relationship.  Pangzi had a very simple but tragic love.

Interviewer: Sad…. == You really can’t tell…

NPSS: A woman he promised to take care of for a lifetime and a brother he can’t help but save.

Interviewer: Pangzi has sublimed (victory fist] [TN: I assume ‘sublime’, which literally means converting from solid directly to gas, is just representative of a massive promotion or rise into awesomeness.]

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: I’m always thinking of Ershu’s mysterious air. Does he know a lot of things that others don’t? I also want to know what Wu Xie’s dad does.

NPSS: [??? Location scouting ???]

Interviewer: Ershu?

NPSS: He knows some.

Interviewer: Then what about his dad.

NPSS: Location scouting. Totally innocent. Just like Jesus’s old man.

Interviewer: What kind analogy is that… == Next.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Hey Sanshu, on Dec 9, 2009 at 02:58 in the morning I dreamt of you. Did you dream of me? …. == Your Majesty, your fans [TN: Yeah idk.]

NPSS: That night I seem to have pulled an all-nighter. I wouldn’t mind dreaming again tonight.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: Will Pingzi eventually return to being a normal human? Live on from the age of 18? Has he had a lover / children before? Yun Cai? Is Pangzi the boss or the person coming to supervise the boss (Tianzhen)?

Interviewer: Lao Meng… I’ve long since been speechless towards him. By the way, was he always this kind of stone in the latrine? [TN: I guess a saying about how he’s stuffy and expressionless per usual.]

NPSS: No. It used to be really bad.

Interviewer: …How bad…

NPSS: Like a Tibetan horse. [TN: Lol this is the literal translation but when I Googled it, Kurama from Yu Yu Hakusho came up and hahaha I guess it kind of makes sense as an analogy?]

Interviewer: Your Majesty, your definition of really bad is Kurama’s level huh…= =|| So he wasn’t born latrine stone… [TN: Ok, so background on Kurama - an infamous fox demon thief escaped into the body of a newborn child because his spirit was weakened after being hunted, and so he cohabits the body with this boy… I’m not entirely sure of the reference jousting here.]

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Interviewer: What happens to Pangzi in the end?

NPSS: Dies of old age.

Interviewer: How mundane!

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Interviewer: We want to know when DMBJ 7 will be finished?

NPSS: 3/15-20 complete.

Interviewer: (Recommends to everyone not to believe… ==)

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Interviewer: Sanshu, will someone die at the end of DMBJ? (Alright I only care about MengMeng and Tianzhen and believe Pangzi will definitely not be killed off). Also, just how many volumes will there be?

Interviewer: How many die, I also want to know. [TN: Lol they also use the counter word not for humans, but… something else?].

NPSS: There will be someone half-dead. Because it’s a grave-robbing novel, dying completely will never happen. A-ning died and still comes around often, right? [TN: Lol I’m not entirely sure what this is in reference to… first part he’s making a joke that people can become zombies, but second part… I don’t really recall A-ning coming back? Unless he means in mentions? Then again I’m still making my way through the novels.] Just that you go from hero to villain. I still haven’t decided how many to kill off. Anyways for the last volume, with the exception of Wu Xie, [??? anyone can be killed ???].

Interviewer:  …Just kill everyone why don’t you; it’s easier. (self-destruct) ==

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Interviewer: May we ask Sanshu, will Pingzi have emotional drama in the future?

NPSS: No. No time / effort for that, and communication skills are limited.

Interviewer: Ahaha….

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Interviewer: Normally, will Sanshu come check out our Tieba? [TN: Kind of like Chinese reddit I believe?] Do you know the Warm Fox? [TN: I did a quick search, seems like a big fandom name that interprets a lot of the DMBJ stuff.]

NPSS: Don’t know.

Interviewer: As expected…

NPSS: It’s your husband?

Interviewer: Hey don’t involve me in everything. (Flips table)

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Interviewer: Just out of personal interest… I really want to know if Xie Lianhuan likes Wenjin?

NPSS: Uh, yes. Very much so.

Interviewer: Then what about Wu Sanxing?

NPSS: Also likes her.

Interviewer: So it turns out to be a crime of passion… (awakened)

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Interviewer: Is Yun Cai just an inconsequential character? Those Huo family Forbidden Ladies won’t have some sort of emotional development with Pingxie, right? [TN: It does say Huo family Forbidden Ladies… I guess they might be referring to Huo Xiu Xiu, but not sure why there’s multiple. Also, recall that the Forbidden Lady is that tomb creature.]

NPSS: Huo family really did become Forbidden Lady professional household [TN: Maybe like a ‘firm’?]. Yun Cai’s ending is also quite tragic.

Interviewer: Indeed. If transmigrating, don’t transmigrate into DMBJ. [TN: Transmigrate is the common c-drama trope where someone in modern times / average suddenly wakes up in the body of some one in the past or something.] Female beings all have no good outcome.

NPSS: If you’ve already died once, then there’s no need to be afraid.

Interviewer: Oh yeah, will that pink-shirt show face again? (Xlaugh) [TN: Idk this expression, but I think pink-shirt is referring to Xiaohua.]

NPSS: Yes. [??? Young Lord of Solutions ???] Grave-Robbing Prince.

Interviewer: Ahhhhh~~great~~~ >///<~~ The Old Nine Gates [??? Admirals ???], right? … Then Xiao Hei [TN: Hei Xiazi / Hei Yanjing] also has a role?

NPSS: Yup.

Interviewer: The descendants of the Old Nine Gates [??? Admirals ???] are nine golden men? =w=

NPSS: One isn’t. 8 men. 1 woman.

Interviewer: The female is Huo family Forbidden Lady, right?

NPSS: Yup. Counting her.

Interviewer: So that means Tianzhen still has 7 in his harem… Damn, catching up to Cracked Pot’s bunch of shiny guardians. [TN: Idk what that is in reference to.]

NPSS: Cracked Pot? What’s that? [TN: Yay I’m not the only one!]

Interviewer: Cough Cough. Your Majesty, you don’t need to know.

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Interviewer: Will Sanshu come to Nanning for an autograph session?

NPSS: Nanning? Need a Nanning bookstore to invite me.

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Interviewer: If we may ask Lao San [TN: Still referring to NPSS], from Wu Xie’s (or Pangzi’s) perspective, where does Menyouping stand? Just a ‘person who stands on our side’? [TN: Refers to when ZQL told them he was a person on their side.]

NPSS: Now it should be like a son’s role / part.

Interviewer: What? Son? ==

NPSS: A very promising son.

Interviewer: Is Wu Xie having the ‘My son has grown up’ old mother mentality?

NPSS: Not really. More like, my son has bad memory or something.

Interviewer: Wu Xie he is indeed [??? person wife ???] [TN: Uh... term used was 人\妻 which when Googled had the first link to pornhub lol. But I think the slang used is actually this.]

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Interviewer: In Sanshu’s day to day, how often does you use code words? Or is it scrunching your feet and thinking on it for a month or two before coming up with something? [TN: I think they’re referring to Sanshu as in NPSS and not Wu Sanxing Sanshu?]

NPSS: It’s usually simultaneously [??? buckling ???] and eating and typing.

Interviewer: Does it taste good?

NPSS: Often get stomachaches.

Interviewer: …Very toxic huh…

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Interviewer: Can you fill the bit plothole of Sanshu’s storytelling? Your Majesty, do you have any filled pits? == (Hides face)

NPSS: I promised my father I would fill them before he turns 70. 

NPSS: [??? New Year’s Eve pieces ???]

Interviewer: How old is his esteemed Majesty’s father?

NPSS: 60.

Interviewer: …. (speechless)

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Interviewer: What kind of person is Wu Xie’s mother?

NPSS: Wu Xie’s mother is probably a strong / great woman.

Interviewer: I think so too.

NPSS: Beautiful but strict and fierce, which is why Dad is rather pathetic / a good-for-nothing.

Interviewer: Queens are great. Queens usually marry good-for-nothings. [TN: The ‘queen’ here is literally ‘female king’, so more implies a female ruler.] ==

Interviewer: In the end, did Wu Xie inherit his dad’s genes?

NPSS: Wu Xie also has a very dark personality.

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NPSS: I’m nearly at my limit…

Interviewer: Same here… (sleepy)

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Interviewer: If we may ask Sanshu, if excluding psychological factors, in terms of human nature, do you think Pingxie is suitable?

NPSS: I think, the two of them together. Neither can earn money. Parents on both side would not agree.

Interviewer: Can it not be one steals and the other sells stolen goods?

NPSS: At the very least, Wu Xie needs to get admitted to a civil service position. [TN: These are stable job positions lol]

Interviewer: Looks like Lao Meng eats soft rice! [TN: A saying that refers to men who lives off of women lol. Basically that the woman supports the man instead of the expected vice versa.]

NPSS: And also will need to buy a house in Hangzhou.

Interviewer: … Too realistic… == [TN: Lol no joke this is exactly how couples get ‘permission’ to marry each other by the families… Hangzhou housing prices are not cheap either. I was born there and visit often… those prices have gone uuuuuuup.]

(And the two are dozing off)

NPSS: Let’s end it. I can’t hold on anymore.

Interviewer: Ok…

(The physically / mentally exhausted two rolled off to sleep, interview unfinished… ==)

~ End Interview

Whew that was a long ride. NPSS is such a troll lol... 😅I don’t know nearly enough Chinese slang / internet speak to parse this properly, but the general gist is there.

[theroguequeenaniki]

Questions 2009 -> 2021

This is from my Facebook. It popped up on my memories page thing. I originally answered this in 2009 when I was 15, it’s now 2021 & and I am 27, so I’m gonna do it again. Leaving the original answers. Original answers will be italicized. Commentary on the original answers in parentheses & crossed out? Lol. (I’m not gonna tag anyone, but, like, I guess if you want to answer these random questions from Facebook 12 years ago, go ahead lol) 

Questions

Can you fill this out without lying? You've been tagged, so now you need to answer all the questions HONESTLY. At the end, choose people to tag. Don't forget to tag me so I can see your answers! To do this, copy this entire message, then go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, delete my answers, and type yours. Easy! Next, tag people that you think may enjoy this (in the right hand corner of the app). Click publish (at the bottom). Have fun! :) 1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth? My cup with my Big Red in it The straw to my Kate Spade tumbler to drink my HEB Cola Lol.

2.Where was your profile picture taken? I got it off the internet. it's a random anime girl. My bedroom. 3.Can you play Guitar Hero? Never played it. Probably wouldn't be good at it. Not to good at video games. But I am good at Mario Cart, both 64 and the Wii. plus I'm good at some Sonic games. Still never played it. Idk if I’m any good at Mario Cart or the Sonic games anymore, I haven’t played either in years lol

4.Name someone who made you laugh today? Doctor Who TikTok. My cats.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why? Umm, probably about 10:00 cause it took me forevor to get into bed. Uh..Past 4am. Lol. B/c my sleep schedule is fucked. I was in bed by 3am though, but I was playing games & watching TikToks on my phone. Lol.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you? Yes. I'd move to either New York or Sweden. I don’t know. Part of me says yes. But part of me says no..b/c even though Texas has it’s faults (a LOT of them), I cannot imagine living anywhere else long-term..

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks? HAHA. Yeah right. I've never even been kissed! Still nope. I have been kissed though. He just didn’t kiss me under the fireworks the one NYE we spent together...

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you? Um, I think R, but D might also. D is accross Stasney from me and R is a couple blocks down (I don’t talk to these people much anymore & I’m not going to share their names on Tumblr) Uh. I think Maybe Raven? B/c they’re the only one who lives in the same city still. But, Sarah might technically be closer distance wise? Hold on. Ok, yeah, Sarah’s closer, even though she doesn’t live in this city anymore.

9. Do you believe exes can be friends? It all depends on the situation.(I totally stold M's answer but it's true) (I don’t talk to this person anymore & I’m not gonna share their name on Tumblr) I mean, yeah. Two of my best friends are each others exes and they’re still friends. I haven’t stayed friend with my ex, but, uh, he ghosted me so? Lol.

10. How do you feel about Dr. Pepper? I love it. I still love it. Lol.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard? I can't remember. I don't think it was that long ago, I had a light cry on Saturday, but I don't remember the last time I cried really hard. When we got back from our trip in July. Had a full on breakdown that night. Overheated all weekend. Overwhelmed. Anxiety. It was not a very good vacation..I cry a lot though.

12. Who took your profile picture? I got it off of google. I did. 

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of? Umm, either myself, or one of my family members. Aside from myself. I think my dad, on his phone, b/c there was a cicada on his shoulder and he wanted to ask the family group chat if he could keep it. Lol. I take a LOT of pictures of cats though. Lol.

14. Was yesterday better than today? Hail yes! To much drama today! And I couldn't avoid it cause I was in the middle of it! (Oof, what drama was 15 yo Linda dealing with that she couldn’t avoid? Lol. I mean, I guess, Sophomore year was a bit full of drama lol) Anyway, I mean, they were pretty much the same. One wasn’t better than the other. One wasn’t worse than the other.

15. Can you live a day without TV? yeah. Now Music there is something I can't live without! Yep, Do it almost everyday. Sentiments about music remain the same. Lol.

16. Are you upset about anything? Yes. I'm annoyed about something and it's making me upset. (I assume this has something to do with the the drama mentioned earlier lol) Always. Anxiety & depression are a bitch. My rooms a mess & I can’t get myself to clean it. My shelves are still a mess.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? yeah. though i havent really had one yet. I mean, yeah. Even though I haven’t had one last, aside from friendships, but they’re worth it. 

18. Are you a bad influence? I hope not. If so, let me know.(again I took M's answer but it's true) Probably. Idk. Lol.

19. Night out or night in? Depends on what's going on and how I feel about it. Night in usually. I do like going out sometimes, but, like, to dinner. Maybe a movie or a show. But, you know, we’ve been in a panini press, the only thing I’ve been comfortable doing is going to dinner (fully vaxxed & masked). But I also prefer staying home anyway. (Like I usually just go to dinner with my family lol)

20. What items could you not go without during the day? my computer. my book. my journal and a pen. My phone. My journal (b/c I write in it every night, as a diary, 14yo Linda wrote stories). Uh. I didn’t take food or drinks into account in the og, so I won’t in those. But, yeah. My phone & journal. I can go a day without my laptop if I need to. (Went the whole trip in July without pulling it out, though maybe that’s not a good example since my anxiety on that trip was so high..) I want to say a book, but I’ve been in a massive reading slump so...I wish I read as much as 15yo Linda did..

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? I don't remember. I think it was myself.(if you want to know, ask me in person) I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember the last time I was in a hospital. 

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say? "Mrbobbybones:  wish ted would finally meet their mother already. geez. get to it. However, I see myself in that character more and more each episode." yeah. That's what it says. It's from Twitter. (Huh? and I can’t even go check b/c my inbox doesn’t go back to 2009 on Twitter?? (I haven’t had my account that long) Wait wait wait just remembered I used to get tweets to my phone as text messages lol)

Facebook messenger: “ Cool” From our group chat. Lol.

From actual text messages on my phone: “ heeey! Just put up the Tuesday PDS just for you  it’s a big one.” From Phillip Defranco’s text line Lol.

23. How do you feel about your life right now? I'm loving and hating it. but hey nobody gets out alive right? Uh..I mean. I’m alive. I have WiFi. Food. Family. I haven’t seen my friends in 2 years. (Minus Alex, b/c they were here in July to cat/house sit, but I saw them for like, one night..) There’s a lot that could be better. A lot that could be worse. 

24. Do you hate anyone? yes!!! Oof. I mean, kinda.

25. If we were to look in your Facebook Inbox, what would we find? some random conversations. most of my convos on her though have been in chat or through comments. Facebook Inbox is now Facebook Messenger. So you’ll find all my Facebook Messenger convos. Mostly our group chat. And side group chats for secret planning (birthdays & stuff). Plus other chats? Lol.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass? I better! (excuse me miss 15yo Linda you absolutely could have passed a drug test you ALSO didn’t drink or smoke or take any drugs lol) Yeah. Absolutely. I don’t drink or smoke or take any drugs so, yeah? Lol.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before? 

Yes. But I can't remember when... Yeah. Pretty sure. 

28. What song is stuck in your head? Gee by SNSD(Girls Generation) They're Korean. A few My Chemical Romance songs

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be? EDWARD CULLEN! Joke! lol. No I don't know. If it was Edward, I'd call the cops. whoever it is though better have an explaination or they are gonna get hit in the head with my Book of Shadows. (Maybe I wouldn’t mind Edward at my window though? Lol.) Uh. My friends? Lol. Idk if I want anyone knocking on my window at 2am.

30.Wanna have grandkids before you’re 50? I don't know....... Uh. No? Idk. Most likely not gonna happen. 

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow? I can't think of anything right now... Eat. Should probably clean my room.

32. Do you think too much or too little? Way to much! lol. Way way way too much

33. Do you smile a lot? i try to. I think I do. I get told that alot in Theater...

I think so

[aurora077]

Intervention

Summary: Lan Xichen’s seclusion had gone on long enough, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion. It was time for an intervention. Fem!JC

Author's Note: This work is set in jiucengta ‘s haunting legacies au (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716682)which I suggest you check out. Jiang Cheng is female and was married to Wei Wuxian before shit hit the fan. The relationships are not explicitly stated here, it's very background. I just had this idea and wanted to get it out there. I may or may not do another fic very similar to this one but not set in an AU, just post-canon instead.

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Two years had gone by since the fateful Guanyin Temple incident that rocked the cultivation world. Two years (a little more really) since Jiang Cheng’s erstwhile husband had returned from the dead. Two years (a little less actually but who’s counting) since she lost her widowed status and gained an extra love to boot somewhere in the middle. And two years since Sect Leader Lan had gone into seclusion, punishing himself for his blindness and mourning the loss of both his sworn brothers.

Normally Jiang Cheng would not stick her nose in other sects’ business. But Gusu Lan had become more than just another sect to her; it was important to those she loved and so, it was also important to her. And even if things hadn’t turned out the way they did in her personal life, Lan Xichen is someone she would have wanted to help anyway. During the thirteen years her husband had been dead he had been one of the few to show any open support for her.

She would never forget that fateful discussion conference-- the one where she’d been dubbed Wife of the Yiling Demon after she rebuffed Jin Guangshan’s attempt to pressure her into marriage (brokered by him no less-- undoubtedly trying to get her to wed one of his own relatives...control over the Jiang could only work in his favour). Loudmouthed Sect Leader Yao would have turned things even uglier for her had it not been for Lan Xichen’s timely intervention on her behalf. His steady support had helped her in more ways than one over the years despite the fact that they were not ever particularly close. With Gusu Lan seemingly in her corner, the voices that would (and initially, did) loudly decry a young female Sect Leader were forced to whisper instead.

That was why she found herself sitting opposite the man, sipping on a cup of tea as he gazed inquisitively at her.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he greeted, sounding weary, voice containing only a trace of his former warmth, “What brings you here? As you know I am still in seclusion, technically, I should not be having visitors. Is there something urgent that you need my help with?”

“Yes,” she said, and continued bluntly as was her way, “I’m here to convince you to leave it.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

It spoke to the measure of self control the Lan’s had that he didn’t simply kick her out of the hanshi.

“I beg your pardon but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

She cleared her throat and tried to measure her words more carefully; she didn’t want to be asked to leave before she had made her arguments and she tried to remember that this Lan Xichen had been hurt too deeply to retain his former magnanimity.

“You may not know it Lan Xichen, but outside these walls you are sorely missed.”

His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite make it.

“I’m aware my family may miss me, Sect Leader Jiang, but I had no idea that you harbored such strong feelings towards me that you now miss my presence.”

She sputtered slightly, not expecting him to joke about it when he looked like he could keel over if she spoke too loudly. “I…” her face turned red, “That wasn’t what…”

Taking pity on her he waved her protests away, voice becoming more solemn, “Why don’t you tell me why you think I should leave my seclusion. You of all people should understand why I need to do this. It was your family hurt the most by my ignorance.”

She drew in a breath to steady herself, “Did you hold me responsible when Wei Wuxian did all the crap that he did?”

“That’s different, he was manipulated,” he frowned.

“Nobody knew that until recently Zewu-Jun. And manipulation or not he still made choices that led to a lot of harm. So I ask you again, was I to blame? Should I not have been able to stop my husband? Is it not, therefore also my fault? Maybe I should join you in seclusion since his demonic cultivation was partly because he gave me his core and had no options left.”

He looked pained, “I have never blamed you for his choices. You couldn’t help what you didn’t know. None of us knew he didn’t have a core.”

“And none of us knew Jin Guangyao was a megalomaniac either. So how can you be blamed for his choices? If you are to shoulder the blame then so should all the rest of us.”

“The rest of you weren’t his sworn brothers!” he almost shouted.

“Mingjue knew. He warned me not to trust him so many times. I dismissed him. I thought he was paranoid and misjudging A-Yao like so many others. If he could see it, why didn’t I? I wronged Da-ge in the worst way because I thought I knew better than him,” His breathing was coming out ragged, “I thought A-Yao was the one who knew me best. Who I knew best.”

It spoke to his state of mind that he even let all of that out in front of her.

“Sect Leader Jiang, the man I considered my closest companion is the man most hated by the cultivation world and reviled as a monster. How do you think I must look in comparison? I am sure there are those out there wondering if I had known and if I even helped him with all of his plans. There are people who will speculate as to the bounds of our relationship. If I did not go into seclusion they would say I had no shame, look what his sworn brother did and he’s out and about like normal. Then there are those who look at my decision to seclude myself as an indicator of guilt and may accuse me of complicity. Or they will look at my mourning and see someone who mourns a monster and who does that? Why mourn a monster? Sect Leader Yao even openly criticised your young nephew for crying at the coffin of his uncle who also helped raise him. A parentless child who saw one of his only remaining close family members die brutally after being exposed as a serious criminal, who even threatened him with bodily harm, could not grieve him without censure. What of a grown man, and a Sect Leader at that!”

“With all due respect, so what?”

“E..excuse me?” Lan Xichen was torn between being confused and insulted.

“You heard me. So. What?” she started, “So what if they think these things? Does that make it true? If Sect Leader Yao thinks that you’re an incestuous troll would that make it true? If Sect Leader Ouyang says ‘hey did you know that Sect Leader Lan likes to visit brothels in secret’ would that make it true? Just because people think something does not make it a reality. Your sect certainly does not believe you are responsible for the actions of Jin Guangyao and would stand by you if anyone insinuates otherwise. You have your brother and your uncle who love you and are worried about you. Your sect has thrived under your leadership and undoubtedly they all miss you too.”

That Lan Jingyi kid couldn’t shut up about how much he missed Zewu-Jun. And she knew Lan Zhan missed his brother and lamented that he could not do more for him. He and Lan Qiren were working themselves ragged trying to pick up the pieces. He’d hardly had time to come back to Lotus Pier and she and Wei Ying missed him dearly. They’d had to make up so many ‘official’ reasons to find themselves in the Cloud Recesses so that they could spend some time together. So yes on the one hand it would be good for them if Zewu-Jun were to leave seclusion but she wasn’t simply doing it for that reason. It was because if anyone could understand what Zewu-Jun was going through, it would be her. And she didn’t think that seclusion was going to help anything. All it would do is make him ruminate on his mistakes over and over again until he likely went mad himself.

“You said that the man you considered your closest companion turned out to be a monster. Gee, I wonder what that feels like? You said that people will wonder if you helped him with his plans, oh gee, I wonder what that feels like?” Zewu-Jun had the grace to look abashed at that.

She continued, softer, “You said people will talk about what kind of person mourns a monster. But you’re not mourning a monster, are you? When A-Ling cried over his coffin, did you blame him for it? Did you think ‘why is this child mourning when he should celebrate the end of the one who fractured his family?’ like Sect Leader Yao did?” Zewu-Jun shook his head but didn’t say anything, letting her continue.

“A-Ling was mourning the loss of the uncle he knew. And you are mourning the loss of the companion he had been to you. The world will only ever view him as a monster because the world never knew him. But you did. Maybe you didn’t know everything about him, but not everything about him was fake. I hate Jin Guangyao, I will not pretend otherwise. But I was there, Zewu-Jun. I was there, and I could see that he truly did care for you and value you. Not everything he showed you would have been fake. You of all people probably got more sincerity out of him than anyone else. And so you, of all people, have a right to mourn the man he was, the same way A-Ling still mourns the loss of the man who gifted a lonely child a dog. Not everything had an ulterior motive. Even monsters can love can’t they? Even monsters had people who loved them. I would know. So if you need to mourn him… then just mourn him.

Who gives a damn what people will say about it? People will always talk, Zewu-Jun. It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do, people will believe what they want to believe. So why let their opinions force you into repenting for something you didn’t even do? Let them think what they want to think. It is not a crime to be deceived. We all were. Why take the world on your shoulders when you don’t actually have to? And again, with all due respect Sect Leader Lan, if I, a family-less, alliance-less woman whose husband was the most reviled personage in the jianghu, who suffered the scorn of the cultivation world for over a decade, could raise my nephew on my own and build my sect back from literal ashes into one of the strongest and most respected once again, then you, who have a strong sect and people who love you, who believe in you and will support you no matter what… you can manage to live too.”

“Sect Leader Jiang…” Zewu-Jun was at a loss for words. What could he say? It only sounded selfish and petty to claim that he suffered more than she did, because he truly didn’t. She was right after all. Sect Leader Jiang was a remarkable woman. Life had not been kind to her. And...her words struck something within him. He felt ashamed. He hadn’t even thought about what it was like for her before this. He’d never offered her any support, but here she was trying to get him to live his life again without guilt. She, whose family most assuredly suffered because of his inaction, was here telling him to let it go, to not take responsibility. But how could he do that so easily?

“How did you do it? Sect Leader Jiang...” his voice cracked, “Can you ever forgive me, for the harm that my inaction caused you and your family?” Maybe if he heard it from her, maybe he could begin to forgive himself.

She sighed. “On my part, there is nothing to forgive Zewu-Jun. And so I can’t grant you forgiveness because you haven’t done me any wrong. But there are a few people who do deserve an apology from you. And your seclusion is a self-imposed punishment that you feel you deserve but at the end of the day, it does not actually do anything tangible when it comes to making amends to those who have been hurt.”

He was silent for a moment, stunned by her words. He hadn’t considered that his seclusion might have been causing others even more harm than he’d already done to them. Sect Leader Jiang was wise (she would disagree...she’d just learned from bitter experience in her opinion). He felt like he’d done her a great disservice all of these years, by not making an effort to reach out to her.

“Please, tell me. I.. I confess I no longer trust my judgement. I thought I knew A-Yao. I thought I was a good judge of character. I no longer know how to tell what is up from down. All I know is that I was so, so wrong about A-Yao. If you say that I have not harmed you then I am glad. I would hate to be the cause of more pain. You said that I am not responsible for A-Yao’s actions, and though it isn’t easy to believe that just yet, if there are those who I have truly wronged then please...please tell me. I still don’t know if I am ready to leave seclusion, if I even know how to, but I need to atone for my actions.”

Jiang Cheng nodded, “That’s the right attitude at least. So to start with I’d say you need to have a chat with Huaisang.”

His eyes widened, “I… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Sect Leader Jiang.” His face darkened slightly. He wasn’t pleased with Huaisang at the moment. It felt like he never even knew him.

“And why not? Out of everyone, it’s Huaisang that you unintentionally hurt. And I don’t mean because of not listening to Nie Mingjue. His death was not your fault.” He was about to protest but she cut him off. “It wasn’t. I told you, stop taking responsibility for what isn’t your fault and own up to what is.”

He sighed heavily, “If it’s not about Da-ge then how did I wrong Huaisang?”

“Well for one, you’re still his Er-ge. Yet you seem to have forgotten that in lieu of what happened in the temple. Huaisang… has lost everyone. He may have been acting like a shady shit for the past however many years but… do you know what it’s like to be the last one of your family, Zewu-Jun? To have nobody beside you except subordinates?” He inhaled sharply. “I.. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said mournfully. How much did he just not consider? What kind of a person was he that he resented Huaisang for his deceit but yet did not consider for one moment that Huaisang may have done those things because he thought he was all alone and could not come to him for help? What kind of brother was he that his little brother could not confide in him? He should have been there for Huaisang, instead he had thought so highly of Jin Guangyao, even dismissing da-ge’s claims, that Huaisang had not dared to approach him with his suspicions.

Sect Leader Jiang was being very understanding however, “Zewu-Jun, I know you’re not pleased with Huaisang. I know there are many things that he’s done that are not right. I know there’s a possibility that he lied and forced your hand at the end. Believe me, I know the feeling...more than anyone, I know what it feels like to be deceived by someone you love...to kill someone you love. I know what it feels like when everyone praises you for it. Like you did such a great thing and you should be happy and celebrating with everyone else, except you can’t because your heart has shattered…has been ripped to shreds.

As someone who once loved a so-called monster...as someone who as good as killed that person with their own hands, I understand better than anyone what you’re going through. What Huaisang did was cruel, even though I’m glad Jin Guangyao is dead. It was cruel to have you be the one to end him. Huaisang likely knew that Jin Guangyao valued you. He knew it would be the worst end for him to be killed by your hand. I can’t speak for Huaisang, but I don’t believe he did it to hurt you, even though that’s inevitably what happened anyway. He did it to hurt Jin Guangyao. But even though it was not kind of him to have you be the arbiter of justice, he still deserves to have his Er-ge in his life.

She paused remembering the pain of losing her husband and sister all in one night.

She didn't have to imagine how Huaisang would have felt at losing the last member of his family at the hands of someone he cared about.“You and I aren’t the only ones who were deceived by someone we loved. Huaisang loved Jin Guangyao too, didn’t he? He loved and trusted him. When Nie Mingjue was getting worse, didn’t Huaisang trust and rely on both you and Jin Guangyao? It wasn’t a front. You were both dear to him. He loved him. He loved him and was betrayed by him in the worst way. And then yes, he orchestrated a whole convoluted plan to have him exposed and killed.

But you and I can both attest that justice, and even revenge, doesn’t stop the pain does it? Huaisang avenged his brother, but he lost another in the process, the same way you did. Don’t let him lose you too. You said you wronged Nie Mingjue by not listening to him. I think you’d wrong him even more if you left his little brother alone, without anyone to call family. You don’t have to forgive Huaisang right away, or at all if you don’t want to, but eventually you should at least try and reconcile with him. You’re his big brother... the only one left. And you know, Huaisang would have had the realisation that he was fooled by Jin Guangyao all on his own. But you don’t have to be alone.

Huaisang and you share the experience of being blinded by him. It would be much easier to talk to someone who has gone through the same things, no? Huaisang is there. And I am here. You don’t have to endure this on your own. We may not be very close Zewu-Jun, but we can understand each other, not so? So I’m here if you need someone to confide in. And Huaisang...Huaisang must be waiting too. For his Er-ge. You both owe each other apologies.”

By the time she was done speaking there were tears rolling down his face. She didn’t think it was quite appropriate given their positions, (though she was sort of his secret sister-in-law so really, he counted as family) but she moved over to his side and embraced him. If he was surprised he didn’t show it, only moving to cling to her more tightly and sob with a ferocity that had her a bit surprised. She wondered if this was the first time since the temple that he’d allowed himself to fully grieve what he had lost, without the guilt of letting his sworn brother die, killing the other one, and feeling bad for mourning for someone who he should hate.

Everyone praised him for killing Jin Guangyao however, it was something he didn’t want to be praised for. But what could he say? That he hated the fact that he killed him? He was right about one thing, if he ever said something like that people would most assuredly say he was complicit and probably want to implicate him. Jiang Cheng of all people knew how hard it was to listen to people praising you for a deed you were not proud of. And so she was the only person who would understand. The only person who would, who could, acknowledge the hurt it would have caused him to do what he did, especially if he was tricked into it.

His feelings about Huaisang would be complicated, but it wasn’t too late to reconcile as long as they were both alive.

She rubbed his back consolingly and just let him cry. It must have been no more than 15 minutes, but it felt much longer, before his tears slowed. When his sobs petered out he tried to compose himself. She let go of him and he embarrassedly turned away, sipping his tea. He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry Sect Leader Jiang, that was unbecoming of me.”

“Don’t mention it,” she waved off. She was there to help after all.

“I will give your words due consideration. It was remiss of me to forget that I was not the only one affected by A-Yao’s schemes. I truly regret not thinking of how Huaisang would have felt when he first found out. You are right. I have done my little brother a disservice,” he said, voice croaky from his bout of sobbing.

“You said that there were people I needed to apologise to. Who else have I wronged?” he continued. His respect and admiration for Sect Leader Jiang had grown exponentially since the start of this visit. He would take her words under advisement if he could.

“Oh Zewu-Jun,” she sighed, “What you’re doing with this seclusion, doesn’t it remind you of someone? Because it sure reminds your uncle.”

Zewu-Jun looked as if she had slapped him.

“Nobody would begrudge you needing time to grieve and to come to terms with what happened, it is human nature. It’s understandable. We were all blindsided. And I understand the wish to seclude yourself because I wish I could have as well, though I didn’t have the luxury,” she said, not unkindly but it made him wince anyway, “But it’s been too long. A few months would be okay, though grief will last longer than that, but more than that is just being unfair to others. You are the Sect Leader. Your uncle has already had to watch his brother shirk his duties and seclude himself from the world for the rest of his life.

Your uncle has had to pick up the slack. He raised you and your brother like a father would, while taking care of sect matters. None of those things were his responsibility yet he did it. And now… now he has to go through it all over again. Master Lan is elderly though and he cannot keep up with all of the duties required of an elder, teacher and now Sect Leader once more. And so that leads me to the last person that you have wronged.

Lan Zhan is Chief Cultivator now, did you know? His duties are myriad and yet he has to come back here and help Master Lan run the sect. It pains Master Lan to see history repeating itself. A younger brother once again has to take the reins from his older brother and he does it without complaint, because he loves you. But it is unfair to A-Zhan. He can’t live his own life because he’s too busy living yours. He’s barely managing to keep up with both sets of duties, but he’s doing it for you. It has been two years, Zewu-Jun. He worries so much about you, as does your uncle. It pains them to see you this way. And so Sect Leader Lan,” she pointedly used his rank, “I beg of you to consider leaving your seclusion. You have people who love you waiting for you. Your family needs you.”

His eyes were glittering once more, but no tears were shed this time. He swallowed thickly. The past few months it had seemed as if he was living in a fog. He’d barely managed to keep his routine up, it was only through decades of strict routine that he’d gotten himself off the bed and eaten his food and meditated everyday on his shortcomings. But it seemed that while he was doing that he’d missed quite a few. Because she was right wasn’t she? He hid himself away like a coward and didn’t even think about how it would affect Wangji and Uncle. He hadn’t even considered how hurt his uncle would feel to see him go down the same route as his father.

Her words were like a splash of cold water. It seemed to wake him up; it got him out of the daze he was in. If this woman before him could raise a child and a sect from the ashes all alone after going through more tragedy than a hundred people in one lifetime would...he could get himself in gear and do what he had to do. He felt ashamed in front of her. She was right that she didn’t have the luxury to seclude herself. But he did. He did, and he took advantage of the support system that he had to take time for himself. More time than he should have.

She said it was understandable, and maybe it was, but she was also right that it should not have been going on for this long. He had no desire to be Qingheng-Jun the second. But if she hadn’t come here today… if she hadn’t said all that she had said… He would not have even thought of those things. He was too busy thinking of himself. It was likely that he would have stayed for years in his seclusion, just ruminating on what went wrong and what he could have changed. It was all too easy to get caught up in could-have-beens.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he said, devastated at the thought of his uncle, the man who raised him when he didn’t have to, who did his best to prevent them from turning out like their father, thinking that he had failed when it was Lan Xichen who failed, “I’ve heard you loud and clear. But…”

“But?”

“But I don’t know if I even know how to go about being Sect Leader anymore. I feel like the decisions I make would be questionable now. How can I trust that I will do what’s best for the sect? I have already failed in so many ways. Now I have failed Wangji and Uncle too.”

“What did I tell you? You’re not alone Zewu-Jun. You don’t have to leave seclusion immediately. You don’t even have to start doing everything right away. Ease back into it. Your family will be there to help you. I’m offering to help you. If you need to talk about things that you can’t with them, you can write to me. Master Qiren should not have to be taking on these responsibilities any longer and A-Zhan needs to have time to breathe...his own position is challenging enough. Besides you haven’t failed, you’ve just had some setbacks is all. Failure would be wallowing in self-pity forever and leaving everyone else to do your duties indefinitely,” she looked at him pointedly. He got the hint.

“Okay Sect Leader Jiang. I shall take you up on that then. But I do have a question if you’ll indulge me,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“I mean no offense at all, in fact I’m actually extremely grateful for your concern, but I am curious….why do you even care? You didn’t have to do any of this. I’m well aware that you have your own duties and worries. Why bother about mine?”

She smiled for the first time since she walked into the Hanshi. He was struck by it. It had been a long time since he’d seen her smile... truly smile. In fact, the last time he’d seen a smile as bright as that on her face was probably right here in the Cloud Recesses when she was a student.

“You may not remember it, Zewu-Jun, but there was a time Jin Guangshan sought to marry me off. It was your words of support for me, against that awful Sect Leader Yao, that saved my skin, though they still called me Wife of the Yiling Demon after that. But at least I was only his wife. I will be eternally grateful to you for that. It was thanks to your words that nobody else tried to make me marry. I was able to focus on my sect in relative peace. It was a kindness that I have never been able to repay until now, though you shouldn’t think that it is only because of repayment.”

She got up and dusted off her clothes perfunctorily.

“I shall take my leave now, Zewu-Jun.”

“Please, call me Xichen,” he said, thinking that after all of the things that were said that day, she might as well.

“Well then, Xichen you may call me Wanyin. Thank you for hearing me out and please forgive me for barging in unexpectedly. I have intruded upon your hospitality long enough.”

“It is no matter,” he said, and for the first time in a long while he was able to manage a weak smile, “I was honored by your company. If you did not give me so much to think about, I would offer you some more tea.”

She laughed, “Thank you Xichen, but I will be missed soon anyway. I do not need to cause an uproar in Cloud Recesses if they can’t find a Sect Leader. Plus the scandal that would happen if someone other than A-Zhan or A-Yuan finds me in here will not be pleasant.”

“A-Zhan?” he raised an eyebrow, “Is there something I should know about, Wanyin?”

She snorted and threw him a cheeky smirk, “If you want to find out you’ll have to come to Lotus Pier.” And with that she saw herself out, leaving nothing but the scent of lotuses behind her.

Huh. Well then. How curious. He’d thought that Wangji had gone off with Wei Wuxian, who he’d been in love with since he met him. How did Sect Leader Jiang factor into this? As far as he knew they didn’t even particularly like each other. It seemed like he missed quite a lot while he was in seclusion. Was his little brother in a love triangle? It would explain why Wanyin said that he shouldn’t only think of her visit as repayment to him. It wasn’t the purest motivation but huh maybe he would leave seclusion after all. His brother might need support in more ways than one. Sect Leader Lan leaving seclusion because he was too invested in his brother’s love life was a hilarious thought, and for the first time in two years, he chuckled mirthfully to himself. Maybe he would be okay after all.

[renquise]

Okay folks. It’s been awhile (read: a very, very long time) since I’ve slapped some thoughts together about music I’ve liked lately, and I really missed it! TEN SONGS THAT GRABBED ME BY THE BRAINSTEM LET’S GO ( •̀ v •́)و

1) DAMN DANIEL – Bree Runway, Yung Baby Tate 

GOD THIS IS FUN. SO FUN. SO FUN??? The first part of this is a sublime take on 90s hiphop with Bree Runway and Yung Baby Tate serving snappy bubblegum to spare, and then—and then!!!! It turns into absolutely incandescent electropop in like the last 40 seconds and it’s PERFECT and I want it to be a 10 hour mix but also it’s so beautifully succinct that it’s perfect as is and I guess I just have to settle for playing it uh. The equivalent of ten hours straight. Did I mention this is fun? Man is this fun.

2) Stilstand – Eefje de Visser

Sounds like the soundtrack to a dreamy, ominous space movie where the universe is vast and unknowable but maybe there’s a dance club in there somewhere. The echoing, relentless build is irresisitible, pulling you into the deep. Space sirens, is what I’m saying.

3) Pomok Naka Poktoinskwes  – Jeremy Dutcher 

Okay. Okay. Okay. This one is absolutely spectacular. Dutcher is from the Tobique First Nation, and the base of his album is a series of Wolastoq songs from wax cylinder recordings from the turn of the century, reinterpreted with piano and cello and his amazing voice. If you have a moment, go listen to the Tiny Desk Concert live performance of this. There’s this moment where Dutcher is singing into the resonance chamber of the upright piano, his voice resonating off the strings, and it made me cry. Just. Tremendously beautiful, with this sense of gravity and stars.

4) Starless Nights – Misha Bower

This sounds like a noir film, all shadows and light filtered through smoke, carried by the velvet rasp of Misha Bower’s voice. Gorgeous. (Full disclosure: hhhhhhh deep-voiced women oh wow oh gee whiz. Gee whiz golly wowzers.)

5) Dawn in the Adan – Ichiko Aoba

Ichiko Aoba does so much with just a guitar and her sweet voice and the little bits of ornamental instrumentation lilting in and out of this song. Sounds like birds in the trees at dusk.

6) Emakhaya – Simmy

Dreamy and shimmering and effortlessly sun-filled. A summer picnic in the middle of oh god it’s already March.  Simmy’s voice is so gentle, yet filled with so much presence. Absolutely irresistible.

7) Take You Back (The Iron Hoof Cattle Call) – Orville Peck

Folks. If I had to reveal how many times I’ve listened to this album this past year, it would be uh. Truly embarrassing. Sir, that’s my emotional support Presley-voiced mysterious masked man. The entire album is fantastic, but this song is just a campy delight end to end. I love the way it hits every single imaginable western cliché: the whistling, the whip cracks, the galloping traveling rhythm, and throw in some rattlesnakes for good measure. Are there better songs off this album? Maybe. Are they more fun than this? Perish the thought. Yee haw.

8) Linda La Cumbia – La Yegros

Thumpy and grinding and relentless and dancey in the best way. I’m an absolute sucker for music that integrates electronic elements with the texture and imperfections that you can get with traditional instruments, and La Yegros does that with verve and style.

9) Hiyaz –  Maria Magdalena Wiesmaier and Nabil Hilaneh

I stumbled across this while on an oud kick (??), and it’s incredible and subtle  and shiver-inducing. The resonance and voicing of these two instruments together creates this immense sense of space that is incredibly compelling.

10)  Son nata a lagrimar – Natalie Stutzmann & Philippe Jaroussky

HOW ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL, HOW FUN. So Stutzmann is an incredible contralto and Jaroussky is an incredible countertenor, and it’s just great watching the video accompanying this performance and being delightedly surprised at which voice comes from which person.

+1) A youtube channel rec! My Analog Journal publishes mixes curated around wonderfully obscure themes like 1970s Anatolian Jazz, and it’s always great, groovy stuff. One of my favourites is this 70s Japanese Drama Funk mix, which has all kinds of Lupin III vibes.

[mooncademia]

Wishes Do Come True — PART 2.

PAIRING ~  Aizawa Shouta/reader  [Undercover heroes! inspo by bnha Vigilantes!]

GENRE ~ fluff

SUMMARY ~ Being an undercover cop has always been second nature to you, but after being paired up with Aizawa Shouta, your heart begins to wander slightly off track. With an unexpected occasion coming up, you’ve realized that you really are falling for the angler-hero. Cue the butterflies!

AUTHOR’S NOTE ~ Part 2 of wdct is here!!! I honestly love this part with all my heart and I hope you all like it as well. I have fulfilled my daydream’s request 😌 Enjoy reading!! 

Ps: this story is inspired by BNHA Vigilantes, and includes two minor characters (no spoilers) but just a heads up! 

Here is Part 1 ! 

*Buzz buzz!*

You checked your phone:  

[Momo]

— Sorry, Y/N! 😣🙏🏼 I have a meeting tonight but we DEFINITELY need to meet up another day for sure. Happy Birthday! I love you~!

You turned off your phone and groaned as you fell back to your couch. That was the fourth cancellation from one of your friends.

Today was the day before your birthday and you planned to invite some friends over for an exciting birthday countdown. However, your expectations did not meet your reality after your last friend canceled. You stared at your phone’s black screen.

You understood your friends’ reasoning of course, but you had to admit: you felt a bit disappointed knowing that you are going to spend another birthday by yourself…again. You didn’t 100% mind since you have always been the independent type ever since you moved to Tokyo away from your parents by yourself. You knew how to take care of yourself and you knew your responsibilities—it shaped the person you are now today!

You sat up and crossed your legs together. You wore a pair of high-waisted flared jeans with a long creamed colored turtle neck. You covered your face with your hair that has been let down (and slightly styled for the special occasion) and you tapped on your vintage black block-heeled boots. You rested your chin on your hand as you stared at the birthday cake that sat on the coffee table in front of you in which you had prepared for yourself. The plan was to gather all your loved ones around as you blow out the candles when the clock strikes midnight but…you knew that won’t be happening.

This definitely sucked.

You sighed with a tinge of sadness but shook your head out of your solemn daze.

Snap out of it! It is only a few hours until I’m one year older today and I can’t spend my last day like this. You forced a smile to yourself.

So what you had to spend your birthday alone? Actually, maybe it is better off this way—you’ve been so busy with missions and meetings, today you could actually spend a few hours to yourself in peace before you get back into work.

Hope rose as you planned out other things to do. A walk around the neighborhood to clear your mind, maybe? You got up and gathered your things: your keys on the door hook, your black blazer sitting on your couch, and your black purse on the dining table. A good brisk evening walk will make you feel better you thought to yourself.

But as you prepared to turn your doorknob, your doorbell rang.

Huh? You questioned yourself as you made your way to the door, wondering who could it be since all your friends already informed you about their notice.

You opened the door only to see a man in all black attire and gray scarf dangling around his neck. His half-lidded eyes looked up to yours and you sputtered out in surprise. “Aizawa?”

He responded with a grumpy grunt, as always, with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

You didn’t call Aizawa to come over because you knew too well that he found public celebrations (or maybe any celebrations at all) a bit displeasing. Plus, since it was a day off, you thought you should let him get his rest.

Yet here he was, standing in front of you, looking at your neatly readied clothes and the black purse slung on your shoulder and realizing that you were just about to head out.

You noticed him peer over your shoulder, darting his sight at the empty living room behind you.

“No one’s here?” He responded instead. His voice sounded surprised and you turned your head behind you following his gaze, staring at your cold empty living room in which the only sign that people will know that it would be a birthday celebration was from your cake that was randomly propped on your coffee table.

This is embarrassing you thought to yourself.

“Oh…uhm yeah, things didn’t really work out as I planned…” you said, your voice slowly going quiet when you finished. You let out a deep sigh.

You probably didn’t hide your sorrow well enough because as you turned to look back at Aizawa, his expression flashed a concerned look. He let out a puff of air, almost like a scoff, and stepped into your house without your proper invitation. He walked over to your couch and randomly began packing your birthday cake back to its designated box, along with tucking in some red candles that you placed beside.

Your mind barely fully registered what he was doing. “Aizawa, I’m guessing you came for my birthday, and I am by far very much grateful, but what the HECK are you doing to my birthday cake?”

“You’re sad. Even if you go out, you’ll come back to an empty room.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me.”

He walked towards you. “Come on… let’s go celebrate your birthday together then. Somewhere else, it’ll be…fun,” he said, carefully rolling out the last word “fun” as if the word was completely foreign to him.

You looked back at him in astonishment. You know Aizawa almost never volunteers to do things like this, but you could see it in his stone-cold eyes that he meant every word he said. Your heart stupidly fluttered at his invitation and you locked your elbows cheekily with his, causing him to widen his eyes for just a few seconds from your quick action, but then smile softly when he saw you blush.

“Well then sir,” you said sarcastically in a low voice, pushing away all sad thoughts. “I guess you have a destination then! Lead the way!”

And with that, you both walked down the streets of your house, shoulder-to-shoulder. The sky was getting dark and the yellow street lights glowed softly as you two passed. You lived near a train station so you could occasionally hear the train bustling away ahead of you. The two of you walked in silence for a moment and well…despite the unplanned occasion, you were really grateful Aizawa actually came; definitely surprised at first but his soft side (that he will probably never admit!) snatched your heart yet again.

The two of you continued to walk down through the neighborhood until you came across a familiar street.

“The Hotta Brother’s shop?” You questioned when you turned at a corner.

“Yeah,” Aizawa said in a husky voice.

Ok, to be perfectly honest: you weren’t really sure how the Hotta Brother’s Cafe was going to turn your birthday into an occasion, but you didn’t really care at that point.

Once the two of you walked towards to shop, you saw the “CLOSING” sign hung up on the door.

You pointed at the sign. “Oh…?”

“It’s okay, I have a key.” Aizawa pulled out a key from his pocket and opened the door with a sharp click.

“Do the brothers know you have their key?”

“Of course,” he replied. Then he grinned at you. “They just forgot that I haven’t returned it to them yet.”

You put your hands on your hips and shook your head in disbelief. “Eraser, you sly sly man.”

“Surprised?” He said with a wicked grin.

You smirked. “Not the least bit.”

You flicked the switch of the lights once you entered the shop. It was actually still remodeling and there were actually cardboard boxes everywhere—not exactly screaming “SPECIAL OCCASION” in your head.

You were about to sit down on the chair that you usually sit whenever you had one of your morning undercover meetings, but Aizawa stopped you with a raise of his hand and told you to follow him.

In the far back of the cafe, there were stairs that led up to the second floor that you didn’t know. Usually in meetings, you just sit on your reserved table (which consists of two wooden stools and a green camping crate placed in the middle which served as the table, fancy amirite?!) The two of you walked up to the stairs which led to an eerie empty room that made you raise a brow, but then you saw where Aizawa was walking towards to.

The second floor led right outside to a patio and once you spotted it, you sucked in a breath. The patio ramp wasn’t too low nor too high, and it was those ramps that had wide bars, allowing you to see the whole neighborhood along with the beautiful evening-blue sky that stared above you.

Aizawa set down your cake on a table and swung open the patio door. Before stepping outside he muttered a ‘wait a minute', and quickly darted down the stairs only to come back up with a large gray blanket and wait…was that his yellow sleeping bag?

“Oh Eraser, don’t tell me you literally take naps at Hotta’s Shop?”

“Of course I take naps here.” He shrugged casually as if that was the most ordinary thing. He laid the large blanket along with his yellow sleeping bag down out on the patio and invited you to sit. You sat down with your legs crossed and Aizawa carefully pulled out the cake, setting it on top of the box for good height.

The two of you were seated facing each other, with the small cake separating you both.

You leaned your head against the patio railing and Aizawa stared up at the late evening sky.

It was quiet for a moment, but the two of you didn’t mind. There were birds chirping even at this late of an hour and the two of you enjoyed the cooling breeze and neighborhood view.

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence, your voice coming out almost as a whisper.

You stared at the cake in front of you. It was a vanilla strawberry cake with whipped cream frosting—your favorite kind and it was a tradition to buy this kind of cake on your birthday.

You looked up at Aizawa.

“Thank you…” You began. “For this. For…for actually coming here to celebrate my birthday with me. You know, when I realized no one could make it this evening, I was a bit devastated, and well, you came along and it really…” You shined a smile at him. “It really meant a lot, so thanks.”

He nodded and shrugged. “It’s nothing really. It’s almost your birthday, it’s a celebration ought to be celebrated with the person, right? Plus…you seemed quite disappointed at the empty room…” He said generously, the last few words coming out as a tiny mutter. The moment felt warm and a few times while sitting down, you had to remind yourself that this wasn’t an undercover act, nor was it a false persona you two were trying to pretend to be.

This was genuine. This was authentic.

You beamed happily, forever touched at his statement. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He smiled at you—the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat and wonder internally how handsome he can possibly get.

You stared down at your cake and reached out to tucked the candles carefully through the thick puffy cream. The night was getting darker now but thankfully the streetlights were able to cast some light through the patio. Aizawa flicked a match to light the candles and the two of you sang happy birthday (mainly you because Aizawa was too embarrassed to sing, how cute you thought!).

You stared at the now lighted candles. Watching the fire made your eyes soft and so you shut them and folded your hands together to make a wish. Aizawa stared at you closely, watching your peaceful expression as the flames danced in the air. You grew quiet, making a wish and when you opened your eyes, you blew all the candles out in a single blow.

“What did you wish for?” Aizawa asked curiously as you cut him a piece of cake.

You squinted your eyes at him. “I can’t tell you that! Or else it won’t come true.” You teased, taking a bite of the cake. Even though you buy the same exact cake every birthday, the taste never failed to disappoint you. The cream blended with the cake ever so perfectly, having the perfect balance of sweetness. You darted your eyes at Aizawa and you were pleased that he seemed to enjoy the cake as well. While you ate, you began to talk to him about your day and how you have been feeling lately—from miscellaneous troubles to simple pleasures of life.

“Don’t you think ice cream tastes better when the weather is cold?” You pointed out as you took another bite of the cake, your fork dangling on your lips.

“How so?” Aizawa asked. He laid his back against the railing with his elbows propped up.

“Hmm…” you tapped the fork on your lips pondering. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because it isn’t melting on the road, or it soothes the sore throat.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a logical reasoning.” He replied coldly which only made you burst out laughing.

You sigh happily. “Ah, you and your logical reasonings,” you pointed your fork at him. “One day, you’ll get what I mean!”

You continued on talking about your life, even getting deep into some parts of your childhood life that you have never told anyone. But somehow, it didn’t feel weird or uncomfortable at all. In fact, it felt strangely right.

Sometimes you’ll stop mid-talk, questioning if you are hogging all the conversation to yourself, but whenever you do, Aizawa nudges you to continue with a “Go on” or “Continue, I want to know what happened” comment. And so you continue on, knowing he was listening intently with his nods and eye contact. You will ask him questions about his life and he will share his own life, not as detailed as yours, but enough to make you feel more personally connected with him.

——————

You closed the now empty cake box and cleaned up the plates, putting them aside. You sat comfortably on the blanket and you realized how late it was when you looked up. You could see the fluorescent moon peeking above the sky, but the streetlights illuminated the area just enough that you could still see clearly.

A cold breeze flushed over you, tickling the back of your neck as you rubbed your gloveless hands together. Aizawa noticed you shivering just a bit and adjusted his seat so he’s sitting right next to you. You initially thought it wouldn’t make a difference but you could feel a warm heat radiating off his body. You muttered a small thank you and Aizawa responded with a grunt and a nod.

Your cheeks started to feel warmer and warmer as you observed the handsome outlines of his face next to you—his hair was down, hanging attractively on his hero gray scarf. You opened your mouth about to say something.

You had something in your mind that you’ve been wanting to say for a pretty long time. And usually, you will tuck these thoughts away in your mind telling yourself that they are way too silly.

But ever since the last undercover mission in Tokyo…you’ve felt different. Like something has just finally clicked in your head.

Though, on the other hand, you debated to yourself whether if it is a good idea to say the thing that has been lingering in your mind.

What if he freaks out, or gets mad? You wonder to yourself but you blinked your eyes to sway those thoughts away.

The moment felt right. It was a sensation you couldn’t quite describe or explain, but you knew deep down in your heart that it’ll be okay.

“Hey,” you turned your head to him. “I have something I’ve been wanting to say, for a while now actually.”

You propped your knees up, you almost felt like hugging them but you didn’t want to act immature or too childish because you were serious. You were an undercover cop, a confession won’t bite!

You took a deep breath and looked at him in the eye and he nodded at you to continue.

“I……like you,” you confessed slowly, paying deadly close attention to Aizawa’s facial expression. You could hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears and everything felt like it was going in slow motion.

Aizawa raised his eyebrows in surprise and then closed his eyes, his original calm facade slowly returning.

Your heartbeat stopped, confused at his calm reaction. You wondered to yourself if you literally messed up right then and there.

But Aizawa then looked at you.

“I like you too, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth but then shut it at once when you caught the tone of his voice. His tone was almost too casual and you questioned if he actually got the message you were trying to give.

Oh gosh, did he really misinterpret what I was saying?

“Aizawa Shouta,” you patted his knee almost mother-like as you leaned closer. “As much as I love your logical and rational brain and how amazingly useful it is, I don’t mean just like, I mean like… LIKE-like— oh god this is not going so—oh!”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Aizawa lifts up your chin, leaned forward, and crashed his lips against yours. The surprised made you jump, completely shell-shock as your eyes widened. But sooner or later, you melted in almost immediately. The vanilla-creamed birthday cake tasted so much sweeter in his mouth and you instantly melted. It was a soft, delicate kiss and you felt a new chill down your spine. The kiss was delicate yet full of passion. Sensitive yet not so sensitive. You closed your eyes, feeling his warm touch but then opened them when he parted away.

This wasn’t a dream.

This was no undercover act.

This was real.

Did Aizawa just kiss me? The thought raced in your mind when you opened your eyes, your heartbeat pounding uncontrollably violently in your chest.

Aizawa leaned back with a smile on his lips. But it wasn’t the kind of smile that was sweet and innocent, it was a cocky one. The one that exerted dominance and passion, and you stared at him in disbelief.

There were so many things you wanted to say but your mind moved faster than your mouth and when you two parted, the only thing you could blurt out was a confused “Huh?”

Aizawa chuckled, his eyes flashing with vibrancy and happiness. He leaned forward to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your right ear.

“Y-you like like me?” You asked in such a high and dumb pitch you wished you could think before you opened your mouth.

“If that kiss didn’t convince you enough, do you want another one?” He said ever so smoothly and calming.

A true freakin’ tease.

“I like you a lot, Y/N,” he said to you. “I thought you knew, I tried to give hints.”

“Hints?” You sputtered out with a laugh combined. “Eraser, I’m not quite sure I remember receiving any hints.”

As much as you knew Aizawa’s personality and attitude, you couldn’t read his emotional mind, and the thought of him trying to make moves made you giggle.

“Then maybe next time I ought to try harder then,” he advised.

You leaned forward and gave him an impulsive kiss on the lips again and put your palm over his hand.

“There won’t be a next time, but I’m…I’m so glad.” You smiled at him, you almost felt your eyes tearing up, not quite yet believing that this is real but at the same time, feeling a sense of remarkable relief and glee.

“Me too,” he replied, mirroring your expression with a grin.

You were overwhelmed with joy and euphoria, your head barely even processing that this was actually happening, but you didn’t want to miss any bit. And with that thought, you grabbed his black shirt gently and pulled him down for another kiss. But this kiss was different: there was a hint of lust, eagerness perhaps, but Aizawa kissed you back ever so passionately and you could feel a smile on his lips as you both pulled away, breathing slightly bit heavier.  

After the kiss, the two of you leaned back with backs against the patio door, and you laid your head on Aizawa’s shoulder staring at the night sky and full moon. It was silent, but there was this warm tingling energy surrounding you two, you didn’t need spoken words to make you feel this wonderful.

“What do you want to do now?” Aizawa asked beside you.

You intertwined your fingers with his and smiled at him. “Hmm… let’s just stay here for now, look at the moon, enjoy the quiet.” You cuddled up next to Aizawa, making him tensed at first but seeing your comforting smile, he wrapped you around his arm gently. This is why he liked you. You didn’t need anything extra or any wild excitement to please you. Instead, what pleased you the most was the mundane things—the simple ones. Nature, late-night talks, or randomly sitting out on the patio this late evening eating a birthday cake as you stared at the now starry sky.

“Thank you for the best birthday gift ever.” You added softly.

“Oh,” Aizawa said as he reached down his pocket and pulled out a small black box. “I almost forgot, here’s your birthday present.”

“Eh? You got me a present?” You saw Aizawa nodded and you sat straight up excitingly.

You carefully opened the black box and gasped in shock.

It was a watch.

Not just any watch, a very beautiful, dainty, vintage watch—with a golden oval rim and a dark brown leather strap. The numbers of the clock were in roman numerals and the hands had a unique vintage touch to it.

The kind of style you loved.

How did you know? You wondered in astonishment as you took the watch out of its casing and wrapped it around your left wrist immediately.

You awed.

It was so beautiful and touching and you reached your hand out to the sky, admiring the new accessory fully. How did Aizawa even find these kinds of vintage watches? They were a real rarity in Japan, not exactly something you go out and instantly spot. The last one you had was gifted to you by your mother, and it not only cost quite a bit but it took her weeks to actually find a genuine vintage watch.

The thought of that made your cheeks burn as you realized how much time Aizawa actually invested and cared.

“Aizawa,” You exclaimed. “Oh my goodness, thank you so much. How did- When did-“

You let out a breath, words couldn’t even explain how touched you were.

“You like it?” Aizawa said almost embarrassingly. You saw a tint of pink on his cheeks and you gaped.

“Like it? I LOVE it! This is perfect, truly. How can I ever return the favor?”

“A kiss perhaps?” He shrugged.

You smiled at him and leaned forward to share another passionate kiss. A soft thank you passed your lips as you parted away.

And as if by unspoken agreement, the two of you laid together, backs against the patio door but snuggled up by his old yellow sleeping bag that settled on top of your laps. You rested your head on his shoulder, staring at the night sky.

The two of you just stayed like that: cuddling up underneath the stars, talking about the most random things, enjoying each other’s warmth. A few times, you’ll glance at your new watch and admire it from a distance with Aizawa’s laugh in the background, being so relieved that you liked it.

And after a while, silence enters, but it wasn’t the tiniest bit awkward or uncomfortable. You actually really enjoyed it. It felt as if time stopped and you could enjoy the simple things of life peacefully. You could hear Aizawa’s rhythmic heartbeat and feel his chest go up and down from his breathing. You stared at the moonlight peaking through the faded clouds, and with the dim light and the presence of Aizawa next to you, your eyelids grew heavier and you eventually slowly drifted to an unexpected sleep.

—————

You woke up with three figures standing right in front of you, but with the sun hitting so brightly, your mind couldn’t fully process who exactly was there. You groaned a little bit, your back aching from the position you were in. You squinted at the bright sunshine hitting down on you.

Your neck was comfortably propped up by a soft pillow and your body was covered by not only Aizawa’s sleeping bag also another soft quilted blanket.

How you managed to get under a blanket and a pillow? You had no idea. Maybe Aizawa prepared it, but it was then you realized that you were wrapped under his arm and he was still snoring softly, ignoring the commotion that was clearly happening.

You nudged him softly and he gently released you, squinting his eyes just a tiny bit from the light. The sight made your heart awed. His bed-headed black raven hair covered his face in the cutest way possible.

But when your mind finally made out the figures standing right above you, you gasped in shock.

Your cheeks flushed. “Jiro! Ichiro! Oh…we fell asleep, I-“

“My god, you’ve been here all night?” Jiro Hotta exclaimed with his arms crossed and his brother, Ichiro Hotta shaking his head in disbelief next to him.

Yup, it couldn’t get any more embarrassing from here.

You widened your eyes and shook your hands wildly. “We just came here to talk and we sort of just fell asleep, but that’s it.”  

“Kissed a couple times,” Aizawa muttered with his eyes still closed.

Both men gasped in shock.

You glared back at Aizawa next to you and you could see a sly smile creeping up his face. Clearly, despite not being a morning person, he managed to let those specific words slip out of his mouth just like that.

You glared at the man beside you. “Aizawa, NOT helping!”

The patio door was wide opened and you swore the Hotta Brothers’ eyes could pop out in minute now given their shock expression.

Jiro Hotta closed his eyes and shook his head with a palm on his forehead and said, “Wait wait wait, let me get this straight. The two of you barged into our shop, walked into our second floor, and stayed here all night?”

“AND YOU TWO KISSED?!?!” Ichiro Hotta looked at Aizawa who was still comfortably snuggled up beside you snoring softly.

You palmed the back of your neck and smiled wearily. “Uhm…kinda like that?”

“KINDA?!” The Hotta Brothers exclaimed in unison.

Ichiro Hotta stomped his foot. “Our shop is a second-hand shop—“

“Didn’t you guys also used to trade illegal drugs for balding and erectile dysfunction here too?” You pointed out with an eyebrow arched up.

The Hotta brothers gave each other an awkward side-eye. “Uh..THAT'S NOT THE POINT! What I mean is that this is not a place for…” Ichiro shuddered in disgust. “For love-making.”

“We just kissed!”

“Sureee…” Jiro Hotta said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, truly not convinced by your statement.

Oh boy, you thought. Today was really going to be an interesting day.

—————

It wasn’t long for the Hotta Brothers to scramble back downstairs. After a quick apology from you (you did kind of barged into their shop during the middle of the night) and a cold remark from Aizawa (nothing too threatening! Just a “if you brothers keep making a racket, I swear I will…” He may have slipped a cursed word here and there). But hearing Aizawa’s comment made the Hotta Brothers freeze in their tracks and grumble as they scrambled downstairs, making you slip out a giggle.

The sun shined brightly above you and Aizawa and when peered down at him with his eyes still closed, you smiled.

You scooted your feet under the blanket and crawled under Aizawa’s arm in which he gladly accepted.

Aizawa opened one eye to peek down at you.

“Happy birthday,” he said in a husky, morning voice.

You leaned forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Why, thank you.”

Aizawa hummed back in response and pulled you closer. The scruffness on his chin tickled your skin which made you giggled out loud. You could feel his warm exhale and you just stared at him from below, admiring all his features once more.

“It's not nice to stare at people, Y/N.” He said with his eyes still closed.

“Well, you are quite the handsome man, how can I not?” You teased.

“Rrrreally.”

“Really.” You confirmed.

You pulled him closer and rested your head on his chest. The sun was bright and warm and you could hear the chirping of the birds and the shuffling of shoes below on the sidewalk. Everything was just right.

You smiled happily and closed your eyes, but it wasn’t for long for Aizawa to shift his body and begin placing kisses on your neck, making you giggle once more from the ticklelish touch.

*Buzz buzz!*

Aizawa abruptly stopped and you reached over to the side to grab your phone. You pressed the home button to find a notification from Officer Tsukauchi.

“Oh, it’s an update from Tsukauchi.” You announced.

You swiped your phone to read the text message.

[Tsukauchi]

— This Tuesday’s mission is at Ikebukuro station, but slight switch of plans.

— We might need to do the couple's persona again instead of the sales act.

You smiled when you read the text as you sat up with Aizawa.

“It seems like this week’s mission, we gotta be couples again.” You said with a wink.

Aizawa let out a breath from his nose and gently leaned over, making you fall on your back with a cute yelp. He locked your wrists above your head and peered down at you with a wicked smile on his face.

“Well, that will be quite easy,” he said to you from above.

You gave out a charming laugh and smiled. “It sure will. Now, just kiss me already.”

With that, Aizawa leaned down to give you a kiss on the lips. It was romantic in all ways possible, but it wasn’t too long until the Hotta Brothers came back up with coffee in their hands and cursed out loud a “WHAT THE ACTUAL-!!” when they saw you on your back with Aizawa hovering over you as you both kissed. You were sure half of the coffee was spilled to the ground.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N” Aizawa murmured to you, ignoring the brothers inside.

Happiness bubbled inside you as you melted in his words.

So maybe birthday wishes do come true.

As you stared into his eyes, you realized now is a moment for bliss. Perhaps more cuddling and kissing ahead, along with inexorable shouting from the Hotta Brothers, but you wouldn’t want to celebrate your birthday any other way.

This was already…perfect.

A/N: After reading Vigilantes, I love the Hotta Brothers so freakin’ much, they are such a humorous duo! And of course, we all love Aizawa’s rational-minded butt ;) Ever so thankful to all who read WDCT pt. 2, please don’t hesitate to comment or leave a message! I swear I’m sending a virtual hug to every one of you who took the time to read this fic 😭💞  Have a wonderful day everyone, and stay safe! 

[backtothestart02]

I Met Him At a College Party - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: For Lici on twitter. Inspired by a Zaaron/Grownish scene. Enjoy.

...

Synopsis: College romances were never supposed to be this hard.

...

Chapter 1 -

The night descended upon them after a slew of freshman orientation activities and an afternoon of unpacking. By the time they’d had dinner and picked out their cute first-college-party-ever outfits, the sun was long gone and the moon was full and beautiful in the middle of the dark star-filled sky. Stepping out of Iris’ car, the three ladies looped their arms together and walked toward the bustling three story house belonging to a senior on campus.

“The goal tonight, ladies?” Iris asked.

“To have fun!” Kamilla cheered.

“To get drunk,” Linda added.

“To meet a guy,” Iris muttered under her breath.

They all laughed and made their way up the steps to the house. Presumably the host saw them coming, and the door opened just before they started to break apart to enter the building single file.

“Good evening, ladies. You’re all looking divine tonight.”

They each gave him their own complimentary stare. Iris unexpectedly got flustered.

“Uh, th-thank you.” She tucked a lock behind her ear.

Kamilla pulled her close, surprised by her behavior.

“We’re here to have fun!” she announced.

Their host leaned towards each of them.

“Well, then you’ve come to the right place. What are your names?”

“We don’t have to tell y-” Linda tried, but Kamilla was already spurting out what to call each of them one by one.

“I’m Kamilla, this is Iris, and the spicy one at the end is Linda.”

He fixed a look on the latter-named friend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Linda, I’m-”

“I just want to get drunk.”

She pushed past him and into the house, which was filled with people drinking, playing games, talking, and making out.

“Sorry about her,” Iris said without making eye contact.

“No worries. I’m Eddie. Come on in.”

He took a step back, and the two remaining girls filtered in. Iris started to turn to thank him, but the crowd consumed them, and he was already back at the door welcoming some more guests.

“We should keep an eye on Linda,” Kamilla was saying.

“Huh?” Iris asked, staring at Eddie.

Kamilla spun her around, so she was facing Linda who was currently consuming likely spiked punch across the room.

“Oh.”

“Maybe don’t go for the first guy you see either?” Kamilla suggested.

“I…” Her mouth ran dry. “I wasn’t. I was just…” she trailed off.

“Thanking him? For opening the door?” Kamilla mocked.

“And letting us into his beautiful home,” Iris added. “I mean, if there weren’t people probably having sex in every bedroom, I’d ask for a tour.”

“And you’d be denied.”

Iris frowned.

“He’s one of those hosts that is clearly trying to welcome every single person in personally. He’s not going to step aside from that to give you a tour of his three-story house.”

“He would if he was into me.”

“I think he was just being nice.” She patted her shoulder lightly.

“Gee, thanks. Since when are you such a Debbie Downer?”

“I’m not!”

“You know, just because you’ve already found the love of your life in my best friend does not mean that-”

“All I’m saying is why don’t we try to have some fun before hooking up with someone on the first night?”

Iris rolled her eyes and crossed her arms but reluctantly had to admit that her friend maybe had a point.

“Okay, okay, fine. So, what should we do?”

“Explore!”

“That’s where a tour might’ve come in handy,” Iris pointed out in a sing-song voice.

“Just…stay here, I’ll get Linda before she throws up, and then we’ll go looking for a game room.”

“A game room?” Iris asked dryly.

“Or karaoke,” Kamilla said on a shrug.

“There’s a pool in back!” Eddie called out from the front door, and Iris felt heat flood her face when their eyes met again, and that sexy smile of his overwhelmed her.

“Thanks!” she called back, sad to say the least when he turned back towards the door.

She looked in the distance to wear Linda had been drinking and found that neither she nor Kamilla were anywhere near the location. She looked around and found herself walking away from the spot she said she’d stay at. For all she knew they were in the bathroom and Linda was hacking up all the alcohol she shouldn’t have been drinking. What was she supposed to do in the meantime if her current eye candy was busy welcoming in more guests?

She wished she’d brought a bathing suit to wow him in… Next time, she supposed.

Somehow, she ended up in the basement, and there in her line of vision on one side of a ping-pong table was a tall, lanky boy with an expert hand at the game of ping-pong. Something about him seemed untraditionally handsome, and she was drawn to him until she saw who was on the other side of the table.

“Cisco?” Her jaw dropped.

Her best friend’s gaze darted to hers, causing him the point in that round of the game.

“Iris! Ugh, you made me-”

She raised an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence.

“I mean, it’s good to see you!”

She smiled smugly and dropped the brow, embracing him when he came over to her.

“Fifteen points, man, I win,” the guy he’d been playing said.

Cisco scoffed. “I was distracted. Rematch.”

“How about a uh…rematch with your pretty friend here?” he suggested instead.

Cisco’s lips parted, and he looked between the two.

“I mean, if she…wants to?”

Iris’ eyebrows shot up again.

“I’m a badass. You sure you want to try me?” she dared the guy she still didn’t have a name to.

He chuckled darkly, and it sounded unbelievably sexy to her ears. She forgot all about the guy at the door welcoming people in to his house. What was his name again? Freddie?

“I think the question is…” He started to lean in. “Do you want to try me?”

She smiled wide, her tongue rounding her top row of teeth.

“You’re on.”

Despite the room full of people talking and laughing and drinking, the tension had started to grow between the two of them, and Cisco recognized he was not even on their radar anymore.

“I think I’m uh…going to go look for-”

“Kamilla and Linda are upstairs somewhere, I think,” Iris said offhand.

“Oh, thanks,” Cisco said. “They’re together?”

“Yeah, Linda got a head start on getting drunk as soon as we walked through the door.”

Cisco snorted. “Figures.”

“Tell them where I am if you find them.”

“Will do. Have fun, Iris. Barry here is a force of his own.”

At that she did look away from Barry to Cisco and then back.

“Barry?” she asked when Cisco was gone.

He nodded once. “And you are?”

“Iris,” she said. “Iris West.”

He shook her hand and picked up the small ball and paddle on the table.

“Game on, Iris West.”

She smiled deviously.

“Game on.”

[khunfounded]

If I’m Kindling

[ This fic is based on the wonderful song Boreas and as such dedicated to the even more wonderful @ashe-is-here for introducing me to it! I hope you enjoy :D]

Blood was dripping from his nose, and Khun could taste the metallic burst of iron on his tongue. He didn’t bother wiping it off. He was only a few hours into his training session with Evan, and his face was bound to get worse. 

Khun almost relished in it. The pain, the marks. The broken nails and the singed hair. They were signs that he was getting somewhere, doing something real.

“Let’s try this again,” Evan said, in a voice that was firm and unyielding. Khun prepared himself, and actually managed to last a few seconds longer than his previous attempt. The crater his broken body was thrown into was another rung on the ladder that led its way to Bam.

His chest heaved. Up. Down.

He dragged himself up with scraped hands and scraped knees, cutting his palm on one of the broken shards of floor. He looked at it, squeezed his hand into a fist and watched as blood flowed sluggishly between his fingers. Three droplets fell onto his trainers.

But it wasn’t enough, he realized. No matter how much blood he spilled or how many hours he put into training, it was never going to be enough. He was a minnow in a vast ocean he couldn’t see the bottom of, and even when he was able to catch up with the sharks, he was useless.

Maybe Evan was wrong. He wasn’t a minnow, he was a leech. 

The real person spilling blood here was Bam, and it was Khun’s teeth that drew it. All he did was take and take, with no idea how to give, from the very start. He remembered a bright eyed Bam, so new to the world, how he was dragged into the abyss, and Khun hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about it. Then, when they had finally met again at the Hand of Arlene, Khun wasn’t even able to recognize him until it was too late, until Bam was gone from his sight.

At every turn, every step of the way, Khun was a nuisance and a burden. He took and he took and he took. It was a wonder how even Bam’s endless patience wasn’t worn down.

All Khun wanted was to be of some use. Even for a minute, a second at least.

Another droplet fell onto his shoes, but it wasn’t red this time.

“Kid,” Evan said, something off in his tone, “Maybe it’s time to take a break”.

Khun didn’t look up.

“No”.

Evan sighed, a sound that was ragged and worn.

“Let me rephrase that. Get out of here and take a break”.

Khun gritted his teeth, but he knew better than to argue. He took heavy, shaking steps towards the door, fist still clenched. Before he was able to open it, Evan spoke again.

“If you keep going like this, you’re going to burn yourself out”.

Khun turned his head, meeting Evan’s eyes for the first time in hours.

“Does that really matter?”

If he burnt out, at least he could be the kindling to keep Bam warm. His friend deserved warmth.

Khun opened the door, and slammed it shut. The trip to his room was silent except for the echo of his footsteps and the heavy sounds of his breath. He wondered if Bam was back from the Rice Pot. He hoped not. Khun needed a few hours to just exist without the worried eyes of his friend, without the downturn of his mouth and the twitching of his fingers. He knew what Bam would be like if he saw him like this. 

Really, Bam was too kind for his own good. No one had ever worried about Khun before, and it was better that way. He could handle himself, and Bam had more important things to think about.

Luckily, when he opened the door to the room he shared with Bam, it was dark. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, simply trudged his way to his bed and fell face first onto the covers. 

“-un. Khun, wake up”.

Warm hands shook Khun’s shoulders. He turned over, grumbling.

“What?”

Blinking his eyes open, he saw Bam hovering over him, eyebrows creased. Oh god, he was worried. Khun turned back around, mashing his face into his pillow.

“Five more minutes”.

“Khun, get up. You look terrible”.

Khun sighed, before sitting up and reluctantly looking at his friend. His eyes were like molten gold, and Khun couldn’t handle them on a good day, let alone now. He turned his head downwards. Blood was crusting on his fingers, and he watched as some of it flaked off when he flexed his hand. He must have been asleep for an hour or two, at least.

“Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a guy feel special”.

Bam huffed. Obviously he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. 

“I’m serious, Khun. I got back from training and you were lying face down, covered in untreated wounds. I thought something was seriously wrong”.

A calloused hand came into view, and gently took his injured one, turning it over. 

Bam’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, “Maybe something is”.

Khun looked up. What did he mean by that? Everything was fine. Khun was fine.

With his other hand, Bam picked up something from the floor. It was a first aid kit. He took a packet out and tore it open with his teeth. Bam rubbed the alcohol wipe over Khun’s palm with the utmost care, but Khun still hissed at the sting.

“Khun, are you okay?”

“Of course I am. What would make you think otherwise?”

“Besides all this? You keep coming back from training later and later. You’ve been eating less. Sleeping less. I hear you getting out of bed in the middle of the night and not coming back for hours”.

“And,” Bam’s voice wobbled, just a little, “And you never look me in the eyes anymore”.

Khun turned his head up, “I’m looking you in the eyes right now”.

“Don’t be like that. You know what I mean”.

“No, I don’t”.

“Yes, you do”.

“No, I don’t”.

“Yes, you- Oh my god. Khun, please”.

Khun watched the alcohol wipe turn pink as Bam cleaned the rest of the blood off his fingers meticulously. Khun didn’t deserve this gentleness. He deserved to be argued with, yelled at, maybe punched a little. He knew he was being impossible, so why was Bam still treating him like this?

“Please, talk to me”.

“What do you want me to say?”

Bam was silent for a few moments as he rummaged through the first aid kit. When he pulled out gauze and bandages, he finally spoke.

“Just, the truth. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I- I need to catch up”.

Bam paused in wrapping Khun’s hand, “What does that mean?”

There were so many things that Khun could say, and he didn’t want to say any of them. He wished Bam didn’t ask, that this could have stayed an unspoken truth.

But Khun could never say no to Bam, could he?

“You’re so far ahead of me. You and everyone else. I’m useless to you right now, and I need to change that”.

To his surprise, Bam let out a scoff. He tied off the bandage and Khun missed the warmth when Bam’s hands left his. But then, his cheek was being cupped, and he couldn’t help but lean into it. The hand holding his face nudged it up, and now Khun had no choice but to meet Bam’s eyes, golden and bright and everything he was afraid of.

The other hand took another wipe and started cleaning out the cuts and scrapes on Khun’s face that he had forgotten even existed.

“Khun, you’re not useless. And that doesn’t even matter anyways. I don’t care if you’re useful or not. I care about you”.

Khun tried to shake his head, but Bam’s grip was firm, “You don’t understand”.

“I do. I promise you, Khun, I do. I feel that way sometimes, too. But you’re always here to make me feel better. Remember that time I punched a hole in one of the walls of the train?”

“Yeah, it was our bedroom. We had to find a new one, you idiot”.

Bam chuckled, rubbing the wipe under Khun’s nose, before tossing it away. He pulled out a butterfly bandaid and pressed it to the cut crossing through one of Khun’s eyebrows. After he was done, his other hand came up to cup his face, too. Khun felt his cheeks heat up, and he knew he was probably absurdly red, but it wasn’t fair. Bam was surrounding him, encompassing him, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“You cleaned my wounds and let me rant to you for hours. I felt better after that than I had in weeks”.

“Khun,” Bam said, before starting again, “Aguero, you don’t have to burn yourself down to warm me up. I’ve never felt warmer than when I’m with you”.

Khun blinked. Then blinked again. He didn’t know when it had happened, but tears were spilling down his cheeks, impossible to control. Gentle thumbs brushed them away, and Khun had never felt more of anything in his life.

“I love you, Aguero,” Bam whispered, eyes soft like the kiss of a sunflower’s petals.

“I-” Khun choked, “You can’t just say that. You can’t mean that”.

“But I do, I’ve never meant anything more in my life”.

“Oh,” was all Khun could say, because he knew that voice. It was the voice Bam had when his mind was set, when he couldn’t be convinced to take any other path than the one he was on.

So, really, there was nothing else to do but ask, “Kiss me?”

If Bam was all in, so was he.

Khun was treated to a gorgeous smile, slow to rise, but so, so bright. He wondered if that was what the real sun was like, but he figured that anything paled in comparison to Bam’s face right now.

When Bam’s lips met his own, Khun could feel himself melting. He felt warm, like he never had before in his life, and it was addicting. He wrapped his arms around Bam’s neck and tugged him in closer, as close as he could get.

“I love you, too,” Khun whispered into Bam’s mouth, smiling uncontrollably, “So much. You keep me warm”.