#and while that's not New per se (i have been resigned to not getting what i want emotionally for most of my life)

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

day one million and one of the struggle of whether to come out to my parents or not

[walkawaytall]

For the fic ask game:

16. Is there a commonly held misconception about one of your stories that you’d like to correct for the masses? (I know of one and thought you might want an excuse to say it. 😎)

17. What does your editing process look like?

16. So, I think I actually may have touched on this answering number 20 (at least if I'm thinking of the same conversation that you are about Han's motivations in Purpose of Heritage thus far)? And, aside from that, I don't think there have been many widely-held misconceptions -- though there have definitely been different responses to certain things than I expected (like, more than one person saw Reconstitution as a bit of a downer and that was...the exact opposite of my intent with that story...but we all bring our own experiences to the stories we read, so I'm not going to say their reading is wrong per se, just that I intended for the ending of that rather melancholy fic to have a hopeful slant to it, even in the midst of life's imperfections).

Oh! Actually, I though of another one: there are moments in Purpose of Heritage specifically where Leia's straight-up wrong. Like, she is our heroine, our main character, our beloved space princes, but she's also 19/20/21 years old and traumatized and very specifically not dealing with said trauma in healthy ways at least 50% of the time (her eschewing therapy repeatedly is not supposed to be viewed as a super-great alternative to, you know, going to therapy), and there have been moments that people have clocked as Leia being a badass -- and they aren't wrong -- but I also see them as Leia's cool, together facade cracking in a way that isn't good technically.

Like, we love Leia, so the scene at the shooting range where she uses Varner Coy's blaster to shoot a line of bullseyes does feel badass and empowering and a little cathartic because that guy has been a jerk, but it's also Leia losing her cool entirely and giving into an impulsivity that I don't see as a good thing for someone in leadership to do. I didn't stick immediate consequences in there because I'm not writing an after-school special, but...just because Leia doesn't always have negative consequences for a thing doesn't mean that I included it with the intent that it was supposed to be seen as totally awesome, full-stop. Sometimes it's partially awesome, and partially a big red flag. And maybe I should be more obvious about this; I don't know. I just am not writing a morality tale exactly, so I don't want to steer the narrative into an area that makes it feel clunky or preachy.

17. For normal-length things like one-shots or Collateral, a multichapter with chapters that are a sane length (4K-6K words): I write the thing, I read the thing and edit as I read. I may or may not edit while I write; it depends on how long it is, how long it takes me to write, if any parts are giving me issues. (Like, if I get really, really stuck, I'll start on a fresh document and copy/paste different sentences and paragraphs until I can get back into a good rhythm, and in the midst of all of that, editing happens as well). I basically read and edit things several times until I'm either 1. Entirely happy with it (rare) or 2. Tired of looking at it and no longer debating about changing anything (more common).

For Purpose of Heritage, I did an unhinged and probably short-sighted thing where I wrote what was originally two chapters, decided I preferred them together, and combined them, setting a precedent for myself to write chapters that are 8K-10K words long (and that is legitimately where I've felt each chapter has a natural stopping point -- like, I'm not padding stuff to get to a certain word count. Most of the chapters, I suppose, could be split in half, but we're so far beyond that at this point, I'm just resigned to writing giant-ass chapters until this project is complete). I used to reread everything every time I set out to write a new chapter to try to ensure I didn't go off-the-rails tonally, but when that became too cumbersome, I think you were the one that mentioned having your phone read what you'd written aloud, and I use that not just to review past chapters, but also to edit (so, thank you for that suggestion if that was you, DP!). It helps me identify clunky wording and sometimes straight-up inconsistencies.

So, I usually write and edit as I write, then reread the whole chapter and edit, have my phone read it and mentally dogear what needs to be looked at and edit those pieces when I can, and then read it another time and occasionally have a beta reader (thanks for the times you've helped with this, by the way!) assure me that I haven't gone off the rails entirely if I keep worrying about one particular aspect, edit again with any beta reader suggestions in mind, and finally publish when I'm either as pleased as I'm going to be with it or I can't bring myself to read it again. I do usually try to make sure there is at least a night where I ignore the chapter entirely before doing one final editing pass-through before I post. Giving my brain a chance to not think about it helps me catch errors I missed on earlier read-throughs, and also usually helps me realize that I haven't, in fact, written a pile of garbage.

Thanks for the questions! Sorry these answers are so dang long!

fanfic writer asks

[makibeni]

Ch. 59- In Both Our Hands, Entwined

"Alright, but I get to pick..."

The words seemed to surprise the girl, though she suspected it was simply a change in their dynamic. For all the time they'd been together now it was Kobeni taking the lead. It started off as an illusion of a sort, a performance, the little game she wanted to play to see the one her heart desired win her over. She knew her well enough for this little back and forth, or so she thought, yet time and time again the girl took a step further, pushing past both their expectations and growing. Makima had left her heart open and in turn lost control, but this was her opportunity to grasp at it again.

Planning out a date wasn't difficult, money wasn't particularly a concern for her, not so much that it would exclude locales from her options. She knew what Kobeni liked to eat, well enough to pick a restaurant with enough options for her to enjoy whatever she picked but not so many she'd get overwhelmed. Entertainment was simple too, the girl had grown less shy about her interests with enough positive reinforcement. With a little planning and some scheduling they could catch a movie after dinner, then still have time for a nice late night stroll by the river. A nice romantic gesture was also apt, she thought, nothing too overbearing but she did want to mark the occasion with something significant. A ring perhaps? No, a bit too much for now, the girl might get the wrong idea... or not wrong per se just... no, now wasn't the right time, and she wasn't sure if Kobeni would appreciate a surprise like that. She didn't wear much jewelry, earrings perhaps? Something simple and versatile that wouldn't clash with her outfits too much, easy enough. Everything was just right... but there was one last thing she wanted.

It was the oldest thing she had from her, a memory from before they even knew each other, one she could still picture clear as if she were there. The girl's face, the only one she'd ever remembered, their eyes locked for a fated moment while she was on the job. She didn't know it until it was already over, a blink, a turn, and she was gone, disappeared into a crowd of human faces like a bounty of autumn leaves, indistinguishable in their multitudes. But as she walked back to her car she couldn't shake the memory, the face just as it was in her eyes now painted in her mind. She took another glance back but couldn't find her, and by then her colleague was calling out to her. A fleeting moment that stayed with her in the back of her mind, something she put aside in resignation at it's futility, until she saw that same girl again, and remembered her face once more. A chance encounter with a new hire, an opportunity for a different path had opened, one that had now lead her to where she stood.

That's where she waited for her, a street corner outside of a convenience store, she stood again where she had all that time ago, adorned in the same coat as well, for sentimental reasons, and for some faint hope. The girl approached, a small box held awkwardly behind her back, a gift she offered with an outstretched hand. Makima returned a smile, deciding to wait for a better time to give Kobeni hers, she opened it and peeked inside.

"Gloves?"

She looked at them with a quizzical brow, it was after all still the middle of summer, and even for Kobeni this seemed like an odd choice for a romantic gesture. The girl turned her head towards the store, angled towards the ground to hide a touch of embarrassment. She clasped her hands together, playing with her fingers to calm her nerves for a few moments. Makima thought to simply thank her, odd or not, the gift was sincere, and she wanted to show her gratitude.

"I... I remembered too... w-when you told me where you wanted to meet up, I wasn't sure at first... I thought it was just a coincidence"

Her eyes went wide as the girl tried to relax with an awkward giggle. No... had she...?

"But... I remembered you... blowing on your hands, and then you looked at me..."

Makima's could hear her heart pounding louder and louder in her chest, the thumping slowly filling her ears. She strained to listen to Kobeni's words over the sound of her own emotions.

"I thought you were so pretty... I got so excited I tripped, and by the time I got back up again... you were already gone."

The girl stepped closer, taking her the woman's hands in her own and grinding her foot into the ground. She took another moment before lifting her head up and continuing, pushing down her angst to meet Makima's eyes.

"The day my parents made me join Public Safety I... I almost threw up I was so scared... but then I saw you there and... I forgot how scared I was for a bit..."

The woman sighed, proclaiming her defeat to herself much to the girl's confused dismay.

"You know, this time I really thought I finally had you beat..."

Kobeni returned a confused and anxious look, taking a moment to panic at the thought that this may actually have all been an elaborate coincidence.

"W-what do you mean...?"

Makima brushed aside some wayward locks from the girl's face, making no effort to hide her reddened cheeks.

"No matter how hard I try it seems like it's always you who ends up sweeping me off my feet"

She took a step herself, closing the last bit of distance between them and placing her sign of saccharine surrender on the girl's lips.

"I mean... i-it doesn't have to be a contest, does it?"

As rays of sunlight once more filled the space between their silhouettes, Kobeni once more took Makima's hands. Their fingers entwined they met each other's eyes, each staring at their own desires reflected back at them.

"We can both try our best... f-for each other, right?"

Makima returned a quiet smile, in her defeat she found more joy than the victory she'd hoped for, and resigned herself to the girl's embrace.

"For you, I'll do anything it takes..."

[purplesurveys]

1806

Are you tired? Are you taking this survey because you can’t sleep?  Not very tired at all even if it's past midnight. I finally feel the calm that's been evading me for a while because 1) I have a long weekend, and 2) I can also finally stop fooling myself about resigning 'soon,' because I did it already a week ago :)

Do you have something important to do?  Not right now but I'll be doing a lot of job hunting in the next few weeks! Also tomorrow morning I'll be heading out to get my car checked because the handbrake icon has been lighting up for a while now and I need to know what's up with that lol.

Do you like Jalapeno Cheetos?  It tastes okay but I'm generally not a fan of packed snacks.

Do you wish you had a new phone?  No but I need to start taking care of my current phone, cos I learned today that the battery capacity left on it is at 77% which is apparently already horrible haha. I'm not in any rush to replace it at least until a year or two from now as it's still a fairly new phone, so it's just a matter of watching out for how much I use it going forward.

Name one thing you ate today?  Instant laksa.

Do you like 80’s music? 60’s music? 90’s music?  I have songs I like from each decade but none of them stand out for me when it comes to music in general.

Do you find rap music annoying? Rap music, and any genre for that matter, is super broad though. There are albums I like but then there are those songs that can get superficial about drugs and sex and have a lot of autotune that just makes me go egh.

What song is stuck in your head?  I'm Fine by BTS because it was the last song I played on Rhythm Hive before closing the game earlier today lol.

Have you ever been to Germany? Never been.

Do you drink coffee in the mornings? I need to, otherwise I'd feel super disoriented and not be able to get as focused at work.

Do you become a fan of lots of things on Facebook?  Not anymore, but I remember how huge that was before. People made pages out of anything and everyone would just be fans of them.

What time do you go to bed on school/work nights? Around midnight or a little past.

Have you ever seen a therapist?  I've never had a session with one, actually. Even though there were many times in the past where I know I should've.

Do you get in trouble at school often?  No. I got scolded once for talking during a class in Grade 4 and from there made it a point to never disrupt again haha.

Do you watch videos on YouTube?  All the time. Even if I don't watch a video per se, I like having YouTube on as background noise/visuals and keep it playing all day long.

Name a song that makes you happy.  These days, Paramore's Escape Route has been giving me all the happy vibes.

Name a song that makes you want to dance. Home by BTS.

Name a song that brings back memories.  Fireflies by Owl City.

Does the song above bring back good or bad memories?  A little bit of both, but mostly good.

What decade do you think is the best musically?  I'd be the worst person to ask this as I never really was an adventurous listener. I also feel like each decade has their own styles and charms when it comes to music so as far as 'musically best' I'd find it hard to tell.

Do you take a long time to get ready in the mornings?  I need around 30-45 minutes to prep before work. That includes taking a shower, making my bed, cleaning my room, playing with the dogs for a few minutes, and making coffee.

Do you wear a lot of makeup?  Does BB cream count? That's really the only thing I apply, and foundation. But yeah in general, the answer is no.

Have you ever written poetry or fiction?  I've dabbled in both but never enjoyed it. I was always one for non-fiction writing.

Do you know how to read music?  Nope. We had drills in music class where we had to read notes and such, but I never retained those and if you quizzed me right now I'd pretty much be clueless.

Do you regularly use a blow dryer?  I don't.

When was the last time you went to church?  Three Sundays ago. The last two I missed because I watched a public Royal Rumble watch party, then had a work event to oversee.

Would you date someone who was a different religion than you?  I wouldn't date anyone who's closely tied to their religion.

What is your best subject in school?  History.

Name something you do nearly everyday.  Use a laptop.

Do you take surveys a lot?  Than the average person, absolutely. Within the community...not nearly as much as I used to. I usually have time to check in only on the weekends now.

Have you ever had sushi?  Yes, it's one of my favorite foods. I literally had sushi at least once every week in January hahaha.

[moonchild-things]

Shiratorizawa’s Manager?: What if Sakura went to Shiratorizawa?

Summary: So this is a collection of one-shots and stuff that have to do with Red Herring. There are cannon and non-cannon stuff in here, I'll probably differentiate between which is which at the beginning of the chapters. There's also AU stuff in here and I may even take requested scenarios!  

Word Count: 4024

Blog Masterlist | Spread Your Wings Masterlist | Next Chapter

---

HINATA SAKURA DIDN’T NECESSARILY LIKE HAVING TO go to lunch while at school. The food was really good, which wasn’t the problem. The real problem was trying to get the food without being noticed by a certain group of volleyball boys who would annoy her to no end. She would much rather be in her dorm eating by herself, maybe risking running into her roommate, Hayashi. She is far better to deal with than the likes of Tendou Satori, in Sakura's opinion.

Yes, the guess-monster himself was one of the students that the first-year wanted to avoid. Ever since she first started attending Shiratorizawa, Tendou had seemed to make it his mission to annoy the girl as much as possible. Sakura had hoped that they would only run into each other once, which was when he had imposed on the tour of the school that Semi Eta had been giving her months ago. Though she hoped for nothing. Eventually, Tendou had sought her out. It didn’t help that Sakura had been placed in the same class as one of his new teammates, Goshiki Tsutomu. So she couldn’t really do anything to avoid him. Every time he tried to “spend time with her” (more like annoying her to death) he argued that she had no one else to hang out with. 

Now, he wasn't exactly wrong, per se. It whas true, Sakura had not made that many friends even after being in school for a few months. The closest person that she could probably consider a friend is her roommate, Hayashi Mei. Though Sakura wasn’t exactly bothered by it. People annoyed her far too much, now more than ever. Don’t get her wrong, there were plenty of people who she tolerated or just didn’t care about in her school. It was just those who went out of their way to get her attention or annoy her that pissed her off. Of course, because of this, she’s made a bit of a reputation for herself at Shiratorizawa. Hinata Sakura: The quiet tsundere. Sometimes, they even compared her to the stoic Ushijima Wakatoshi. Even if there were plenty of differences between the two teens, people seemed to latch on to the idea that the two were completely emotionless. Though Sakura had to say, Ushijima wasn’t as infuriating as other people at the academy.

"Baki Baki~"

Ah, there was the sound of that infuriating boy. Sakura's eyes closed in resignation at the voice that sang behind her. She had been hoping to not run into the red-haired monster, but today was not her day. All she wanted was a nice, peaceful day to herself. That included getting some food, finding an isolated spot, and studying whatever she felt like. The last thing she wanted was to be stopped on her journey to find tranquility. Yet here she is, now having to turn around and stare up at the tall third-year with dull eyes.

Her dark brown eyes pinpointed the older teen as she raised a delicate eyebrow, "Tendou."

The much taller boy bent down to her height and smiled cheekily at her, "Ah, Saku-chan, I haven't seen you in a while."

Sakura huffed and grabbed her tray of food while rolling her eyes, "Yes, that's because I would much rather not be bothered by you."

"You say that as if you've been avoiding me," Tendou pouted, childishly. He followed after her as she started to walk away from the food window. The guess-monster looked much like a puppy as he trailed after her. Though it was nothing new, considering he usually tried to do this whenever he caught sight of her. She didn't know why he was so fixated on her, then again, she didn't care that much.

Sakura deadpanned, "I thought that's what I said."

The older boy tutted in disappointment. Though there was plenty of amusement in his eyes as he stared at the younger girl. No matter what she said, he knew that she enjoyed having him around. Well, maybe “enjoyed” isn’t the right word. More like, “tolerated”. In his mind, he and Ushijima(and most of the other volleyball guys) were her only constants at school. He views them as her only friends, really. 

The first-year turned to walk away, in hopes to get away from the annoyance. Though in doing so she almost ran into a tall wall in front of her. Just before Sakura collided with the wall, she stopped herself and looked up. A pair of olive-colored eyes stared down at her as she found that the wall was actually a person. "Hinata-chan."

"Ushijima-senpai," Sakura greeted the older teen, with a slight tone of relief. At least, Ushijima was there to either stop Tendou from annoying her or suffer with her. Either option was alright with Sakura. Thinking that she was in the clear to leave, she tried to move around the monstrous teen. Yet Ushijuma just ended up keeping Sakura from escaping by holding out his arm to stop her from moving around him. Sakura sighed heavily, and here she thought Ushijuma would let her go like usual. "Of course, I don't get a say in this."

Ushijima tilted his head in confusion, "In what?"

Sakura huffed while sitting herself down at the nearest table. The two third-years followed closely after her. While Ushijima decided to sit across from her, Tendou made sure to sit right next to her, much to her annoyance. "The two of you aren't going to leave me alone are you?"

"I don't understand what you mean." Ushijima furrowed his eyebrows, the ever oblivious teen, not catching her irritated tone. "Would you rather us not sit with you?"

"Ye-"

Tendou interrupted her as quickly as he could, "Of course she doesn't! We're her friends after all!"

"You are not my friend." Sakura snapped while starting to pick at her lunch, "Ushijima-senpai, maybe."

The red-haired monster was not affected by the first-year's harsh tone. He knew that Sakura loved him, whether she loudly denied it or not. "We’re your only friends, Saku-chan!"

The girl sighed and muttered, "I don't have friends, especially not a friend like you, Tendou-senpai."

“Gah, my heart!” 

Ushijima cut in between their banter with a quick clearing of his throat, “We wished to talk with you about joining the volleyball team.”

Sakura furrowed her eyebrows, “Joining the team? I can’t play volleyball, let alone on the boy’s team.” Honestly, why were they even approaching her about this? They know that she is not athletic and would much rather not be distracted from her studies. So why would they suggest anything like this?

“No, no, Saku-chan,” Tendou sang, “We all know you’re not that athletic. What he means is you should become our manager!”

At his exclamation, Sakura stopped pushing around her lunch. She blinked slowly before turning to him blankly, “Manager?”

“Yeah, doesn’t that sound interesting?” He asked with a blissful expression. Obviously from his bright eyes, he seemed to think that it was the greatest idea ever.

Sakura just blinked and instantly answered, “No.”

“Ha?”

She turned back to her food, “I don’t want to be your manager.”

“You barely even considered it!” He shouted at her. Though he should have expected that sort of response. Why he had even a little bit of hope that she would accept it right away is absurd.

“I don’t have to,” she bluntly replied, “No. I don’t want to be distracted from my studying.”

“All students on a scholarship have to join a club,” Ushijima then chimed in.

She bit the inside of her cheek, “Yeah, and?” She didn’t think that she liked where this was going.

The stoic boy continued as he stared at her from across the table, “Didn’t you leave the photography club the other day?”

The first-year bristled at that, “How do you know that?”

“Goshiki told us at practice.”

“Hm.” Of course, that’s how they knew. She certainly isn’t friends with Goshiki Tsutomu, but he seems to make it his goal to try and get closer to her. Granted, he’s usually a stuttery mess when he tries to converse with her. Most of the time they just sit in silence with each other. It’s not necessarily awkward, most of the time, but with Sakura not wanting to talk and Goshiki too nervous to talk, they don’t necessarily get anywhere. However, the other day, she felt like… venting. Her ranting about the photography club wasn’t like how other people may rant about something. She just told him that she left the club because of reasons and that was all. She was snippy about it but needed to verbally say it to someone. Like she needed to just say it out loud so it could process correctly for herself. She really shouldn’t be surprised that it got to the rest of the volleyball team.

“Joining a club is mandatory for you,” Ushijuma commented, breaking Sakura out of her thoughts. “I suggest you join the volleyball club as our manager instead of joining another club. Considering you don’t have many friends, wouldn’t it be easier to be in a club where you know at least a few other students instead of complete strangers?”

Oh, she certainly finds Ushijima’s bluntness a bit annoying but admirable. He was stating the truth after all. She grumbled, “Whatever. I’ll think about it.” She didn’t have much else to do. In order to keep her spot at the elite school, Sakura must have at least one club on her resume. The photography club was that one club, but since a few days ago she no longer was a part of it. So she only had a short amount of time to join another club before her scholarship was called into question.

“Yay!” Tendou exclaimed while throwing out his gangly arms in the air in victory.

Sakura huffed through her nose, “Don’t get excited, I didn’t say I’d do it, just that I’d think about it.”

As the three were conversing at the table, a bowl-cut first-year was scurrying his way through the cafeteria. Goshiki caught sight of his red-haired senpai and olive-eyed hero and started to make his way over to them. He didn’t notice that Sakura was sitting with them most likely because Ushijima was hiding the small girl due to his broad shoulders. “Ushijima, Tendou I- Ah!” He suddenly jumped now noticing that his two senpais were not alone. He started to turn into a stuttery mess, like usual, and his cheeks started to turn a pink hue. “Hinata-chan! I-I didn’t see y-you.”

Sakura glanced at him from the corner of her eye but didn’t give him her entire attention, “Goshiki-kun.”

“Oh, can you see it, Wakatoshi?” Tendou purred with his half-lidded eyes jumped between the pair of first years. “I can already see the young love blossoming between these two!” There wasn’t any indication of “love” between them. Since Sakura looked as though she didn’t want to be there and Goshiki was far too nervous to really say anything to her.

Though the powerful ace didn’t pay attention to that and just focused on talking with his underclassmen. “We were just talking to Hinata-chan about becoming our manager.”

Goshiki froze at that, “Our manager? Where she’ll be at practice all the time?” He started to fantasize about her being at his practice and games just about all the time. Not only would he get to see her in class, but he’d also get to see her after it as well. Slowly but surely he started to get fired up at the prospect of her being around as their team manager. “To see my amazing ace skills every day!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sakura stared at him in a bit of apprehension now seeing a flame starting to grow in his eyes. She shook her head, “I didn’t agree to it yet.”

Though Goshiki was in his own world at this point, “I’ll make sure to do my best for you, Hinata-chan!”

Sakura just rolled her eyes, “Whatever.” It didn’t seem like they were going to let her go about this any time soon. Especially when the rest of the team found out. She knew that a couple of them could care less, though there were a few others who were going to be annoying about it. How fun, Sakura thought to herself sarcastically.

---

The school day came to an end. Boring classes were finally over, most clubs had adjourned, and everyone was settling in for the night in their dorms. Currently, Sakura was sitting at her small desk in her shared dorn. She had already finished her homework for the night and was ready to start studying for a while before heading to bed. 

"Manager?!" 

Sakura cringed and held the phone away from her ear at the shout. The excited yell had come from her slightly older brother, Shōyō. He was currently at their family home where he was more than likely procrastinating his school work. While Sakura had taken the opportunity to go to Shiratorizawa, her brother had gone to Karasuno. Due to her brother’s obsession with the Tiny Giant he had been adamant about going to Karasuno for high school. Sakura was going to go along with him, however, when the letter came from Shiratorizawa addressed to Sakura, he was over the moon for her. She was hesitant with the idea of being separated from him. So much so that it made her quite sick. Though Shōyō talked her through it, gave her his undying support, and she agreed to attend the academy. It was hard to do it and Sakura struggled for a long while. Though the daily calls from her brother, sister, and mother helped her through it. She has gotten to a point where she was at least somewhat comfortable at school enough to not be sick. She’s still pretty homesick, but she’s convinced herself that she can get through it.

"Yeah, they asked me to do it since I'm not in a club anymore."

"You left the photography club?" Shōyō asked her in surprise and confusion.

His sister hesitated before humming in reply, "...mhm."

"Why?” Shōyō exclaimed, bewilderment dripping from his voice, “You love photography, imouto!"

"I do,” Sakura sighed and tried to come up with something, “but... I just... I didn't... It's hard to explain." It was something complicated that she didn’t really want to get into. Explaining it to her brother would probably be hard enough, over the phone would make it even more impossible for her. Let’s just say that it shook her, so much. What had happened had hurt her quite a bit, and she didn’t want to admit it to really anyone. So to avoid it, she left the place that had caused her to become insecure and heartbroken. While people wouldn’t be able to see that through her cold exterior, she was hurt by it. She kept it to herself, scared of opening to anyone, especially since she doesn’t have any real friends at the academy. The only thing that she truly enjoyed was tarnished and she didn’t want to go back to it. While she had the issue in middle school of constantly being compared to her brother, at Shiratorizawa she was her own person. Creating that individuality was easy for her now that she didn’t have anyone saying that she was just her brother’s shadow. She joined the photography club right away and did her best to make friends. It didn’t work out and now she wasn’t really sure what to do.

"Well, if you don't wanna talk about it, that's okay." Shōyō sounded concerned, he may not be able to read her as easily as she can read him(something that bothers him quite a bit), but he could tell something was wrong. After all, since they were little, Sakura had enjoyed photography so much. So something had to have happened for her to suddenly leave the one club that she had sounded so excited to join. The first week of school, Sakura had talked to her family so exuberantly about the technology that they had access to. She sounded about had thrilled about it as Shōyō would talk about volleyball. So why would she just leave the club now? It worried Shōyō quite a bit.

"...right.” Sakura cleared her throat, “I don't think I'll join the team, I'll have to find a different club to join. I was told I'd be good for the decathlon team."

Shōyō shouted, "No! You should be your team's manager!"

"Why?" Sakura raised an eyebrow, though it’s not like he could see it.

"Because then you could go to volleyball games and we might see each other there!" Sakura could hear the wide smile on her brother’s face.

"I go to your games regardless.” She shook her head, “That and I visit you, Natsu, and Okasa on the weekends, so-"

He cut her off with a whine, "B-But wouldn't it be really cool to have our teams play against each other!"

"We wouldn't be playing against each other really, I'm not a player on the team or anything."

"Oh, please, imouto!"

Sakura contemplated it for only a moment before she sighed out, caving to her brother’s begging. "Fine. Fine. I'll do it. Only because I need to be in a club to keep my scholarship, okay?"

"Is that really the only reason?" While Shōyō was now excited that she do this, he had to question why. Since she gave in pretty easily, he was a bit… not suspicious as to why she agreed but more so worried. After all, she had been talking to him a bit more about how happy she was to be her own person. He didn’t know that she was struggling with that, no clue. She spoke about it so nonchalantly that it scared him a bit since he never noticed her self-image struggle. So he was glad that she got that freedom, it was good that they had this separation from each other so she could do just that. Though it seemed like there was a little hiccup now. He may not be the brightest person, but he likes to believe that he can pick up on certain emotions and feelings. At least, some of the time. So it was strange that she all of a sudden latched onto something that she had not wanted to do in the beginning since Shōyō had said it was a good idea.

Sakura snapped at him in frustration, "Yes. Having to deal with a bunch of annoying volleyball idiots every day will definitely give me a migraine. Now, head to bed, you have practice in the morning.”

“Alright!” Shōyō chirped, “Good night, imouto. Love you!”

“Bye. Make sure to get your homework done.” She heard him groaned on the other end of the call, to her amusement, and she hung up the call.

As she sighed and put her phone down she heard her roommate, Hayashi Mei, walking over to her own bed and placing down her sports bag. “What’s this about being a manager?” It seemed like the other girl had just come into the room to catch enough of the conversation.

Sakura glanced over her shoulder at the tall blonde girl, “Oh, you’re back.”

“Yeah, practice ended early.” She said pushing her long bangs out of her eyes. “Coach wants us to rest up for the game this weekend.”

Hayashi Mei is a forward-center for the Shiratorizawa Girl’s Basketball team. So she was an extremely tall teenager. It was a bit funny to have one of the shortest first-years rooming with one of the tallest. While also being extremely tall, Hayashi had luscious long blond hair that she mainly kept in a high, tight ponytail. Though that didn’t stop some of her bangs from getting into her dark blue eyes. From her bright hair and captivating eyes, Hayashi is quite a pretty girl, which certainly caused her to garner plenty of fans at school as well as being one of the most well-known players on the team. Add in the fact that she’s extremely charismatic and outgoing and you have one of the most popular girls at Shiratorizawa.

“Hm.” The orange-haired girl nodded her head in acknowledgment while focusing back on her books in front of her. 

Hayashi leaned on her roommate’s shoulder, “So manager?” From the bright spark in her eyes, Sakura could tell that Hayashi wanted to know just about everything.

“Tendou and Ushijima asked me to be the manager of the volleyball team,” she explained plainly, just trying to focus on the textbook in front of her. Perhaps if she did that, Hayashi would get the idea and leave her be.

Though that didn’t work as she just pulled over her own desk chair to sit next to Sakura. “Oh~” He purred, “to be personally asked by such boys must be so nice.”

Sakura rolled her eyes, “More like annoying.”

“Though you’re going to do it, right?” She asked, “Based on what I just heard, seems like your brother would be happy that you do it.”

Sakura paused in her reading and side glanced at her roommate. Her lips raised up in disgust, “Why are you listening in on my conversations, you creep.”

Hayashi bristled and hissed, “Maybe you should have noticed that I got back!”

“Whatever,” then she turned back to her books and tried to seem occupied. 

Her roommate’s bored response just caused Hayashi to jump up from her seat. “Hey, don’t just ignore me!” Sakura didn’t do anything to acknowledge her which caused Hayashi to cross her arms over her chest and walked over to her side of the room. “Hmph, fine. I’m going to bed.”

Sakura once again didn’t do as much as reply to her, “Hm.”

Hayashi quickly made work of changing clothes, putting her things away, and hopping into her bed. With a comment about Sakura not staying up too late, she turned over and tried to go to bed.

So the orange-haired girl was left with her own thoughts finally. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Hayashi, she quite liked her and found her to be very tolerable. She was just very uncomfortable talking about this with her. Sakura would say that the closest person she would consider a friend has to be Hayashi. It is quite good that they were friendly, after all it would be quite annoying to be stuck with a roommate that she didn’t like or vise versa. That would just be bad.

Sakura sighed and paused in her studying. There was quite a bit too much on her mind to focus on the math book in front of her. It was almost upsetting to her. Not enough to cry or anything, but just upset. She had tried so hard to do her own thing, especially by joining the photography club. Sakura did her best to be happy for herself, be her own person, be Hinata Sakura for once in her life.

Though old habits die hard. Sakura was latching onto something that Shōyō said and doing what he wanted to see of her because she had nothing else to do. She could try to go out and join a different club, like the decathlon or something similar, and be her own person that makes her own decision. However, since she had tried that already and been hurt, who’s to say that won’t happen again.

So she pulled out her phone and pulled up Ushijima’s number. She texted him, ‘I was convinced to be your manager.’ A simple message that portrayed little to no emotion besides maybe annoyance. Though she didn’t think that he’d pick up on that.

‘That’s good to hear, Hinata-chan.’ Came the reply, near-instant, from the older student. ‘Goshiki will give you a form to fill out tomorrow.’

So it seemed like Sakura was on her way to being Shiratorizawa Boy’s Volleyball Club. Things were certainly going to change quite a bit now. She wasn’t sure if it was for better or for worse, but she’ll just have to ride it out.

---

Blog Masterlist | Spread Your Wings Masterlist | Next Chapter

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

[iagreewithlilithsrightsnwrongs]

Anybody else afraid Jillian is going to declare war on Reya for the death of Michael?

idk, it would be kinda cool ngl, but jillian knew what was going to happen in the end. which is tragic. i also think shes getting very tired of all this angel demon hell heaven god nonsense so. idk if we'll see jillian maybe not be so active in the fight per se but definitely still helping, probably in michael but also in her new friends' name. i think jillian deserves a rest, shes been through so fucking much these seasons, but especially in s2. like let girly sleep. i do think we will see her n susanne working together with the portal to see if they can find ava or just get more intel on the other realm (even tho ava's back i have a feeling she wont get together with the others immediately, i think shes gonna go on a solo mission, since we havent seen ava going solo yet. i think thats whats gonna happen, all the while shes hiding from her friends. maybe reya convinced her of some greater purpose thats hers alone or smth but i do think we'll see ava alone like in s1). i hope we get more jillian n susanne content they were so nice. but yh jillian was getting more tired n tired n almost resigned as the season went on so even tho she'll still help ofc, i dont think she'll be as officially active as the sister warriors or even susanne for example

[nevertheless-moving]

Continued from here. You can read the origin of this branch of the au and a continued smattering of @dykerory‘s and @willowcrowned’s original ones under the corn boy anakin au 

The conversation between Batman and Anakin skywalker goes as well as can be expected. 

(l love that i just wrote that sentence wow crossovers are fun)

They’re very frank and depart on cordial terms

Anakin doesn’t try very hard to convince Batman, “yeah it is a crazy story, I don’t really have any proof that couldn’t have been fabricated at this point, I’m flattered that you think so highly of my intellect, sorry Clark roped you into this.”

and Batman doesn’t try very hard to convince Anakin “No you’re quite stable and I don’t want to mess with what you’ve got going on, I don’t have to show you the profiles I put together if you don’t want, sorry Clark keeps bringing this up.”

And Wayne Co. supports another one of the Shmi Foundation’s civil rights projects. They tell Clark that Batman put his best resources behind it but another universe is another universe, you know?

Clark doesn’t stop trying on their intersteller missions. Batman just sort of resigns himself to cringing internally whenever it’s brought up- he supposes legends have to come from somewhere.

A year later, 31 years after Anakin crashed in the Kent’s corn field, another spaceship crashes to Earth, appearing out of nowhere on Earth’s fledgling intersteller sensors. 

Due to high prevailing winds that day, it unfortunately does not land on the Kent Farm, but rather across the road. The property owners do the responsible thing and call the police about the UFO, who call the military about the spaceship with a little green man inside, who call the CIA, who are strong armed by the Department of Extranormal Operations, and manage to claim custody over the spaceship over Checkmate. 

Yoda is brought to DC Area 51, where scientists quickly realize he’s dying, well before they even get to start any experiments

Lot of frantic running around and yelling- they even try to ask the thing what he needs from them but he just says “The Force. Without the force, dying, I am” and no one has any idea what that means.

Batman get’s word of this like...oh fuuuuu and reluctantly sticks the Justice League’s hand in for custody of the extraterrestrial 

because if he doesn’t Superman’s going to tear down area 51 and he does not need that. 

There’s some precedent for this, but it’s not exactly a threat per se, so this is really overstepping some of the agreements they’ve made

J’onn and Kal-El have to make a bunch of rapid promises to sit down for interviews that they’ve been dodging with some important figures

Superman whooshes Yoda away to the new Justice League Facility in Upstate [Redacted]

Everyone with alien or magic expertise is called in to try and keep Anakin’s um...great-great-grandfather? did he say grandfather? alive 

Wait Anakin is Superman’s brother? I...what?

Anakin is deeply emotional at seeing the old troll again, and Yoda is just as thrilled to see the lost padawan alive and well. Even without the force, Anakin has the bearing of a Jedi Knight.

“He’s dying,” Anakin explains to the assembled magicians and scientists. “He’s 900 years old, the only reason he’s lived this long is because of his connection to the Force. Without it...”

Constantine: “You’re both talking this awfully calmly.”

(sidenote: by the time Anakin stumbled upon actual magic users who could actually teach him magic, he was settled enough in himself that it was the connection he missed, not the power. He tries a few spells, shows some basic aptitude but hates the feeling and doesn’t try again) 

Anakin, sadly: “Emotion, yet peace.”

Yoda, coughing: “Ignorance yet knowledge.” 

Together: “Passion yet Serenity; Chaos yet Harmony; Death yet...”

They trail off- Anakin looks devastated and Yoda’s ears droop

Anakin: “Grandmaster, I don’t know what happens to people in this universe when they die- every religion says something different!”

Superman (Christian): “Um.”

Batman (Atheist): ...

Zantana: “I’ve been to the underworld! It’s...not for everyone.”

Constantine: “Literally fucked Satan and I’m also unclear. Wait, does your universe have one set afterlife, like for certain? Nevermind, I’ll ask later, sorry.”

Yoda: “...That I will find my way to the force, hope i must have.”

Anakin: “Kal, I need you to get my lightsaber.”

Throwback to the Checkov’s Kyber earlier. Zantana overloads the crystal, it explodes and releases the remnants of force trapped inside. 

Clark and some of the League get to experience the Force for a minute

It’s very beautiful, ok? 

Anakin gathers and directs the explosion of force towards Yoda

And a tiny window opens up to what looks like the Council Room. 

Yoda thanks Anakin and then fades into thin air ok that’s a bit weird for everyone except Anakin who just pretends that he already knew that was going to happen because ‘joining the force’ was a thing that he did believe in he just had never seen it happen so literally

and obi-wan runs at the window desperately and it's too small for anyone to fit through anyway but mace and kit are holding obi-wan back because they just saw Yoda fade into oblivion while in the arms of a strange man but obi-wan's like ANAKIN ANAKIN THAT'S MY PADAWAN ANAKIN WHERE ARE YOU

Anakin jolts up desperately IT’S ALRIGHT OBI-WAN I’M-

and the window closes and the force fades and Anakin sort of sags in on himself

“I’m glad I got to show you what the force was like, Clark, even just for a moment”

“Me to Ani...I’m sorry...”

“It’s alright, I just...it’s fine.”

[astaroth1357]

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness… 

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation… For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey... 

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming. 

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already! 

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

The Perfect Pet

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader AU

A/N: This could be considered a part two to You Cat to be Kitten Me, but you could totally read this without having read the other. I’ll just link the other fic in case you’re interested (LINK). Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 3,454

Shinobu knew when she had let herself be dragged to the animal shelter by (Y/n) that it wasn’t going to be a simple visit. ‘Just to look,’ they had promised, but now, here Shinobu was watching (Y/n) stare up at her from their crouched position on the floor as they rubbed the puppy’s belly with hopeful eyes.

“No.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I didn’t even say anything yet.” (Y/n) pouted in return, scratching the soft puppy’s furry neck.

“It’s written all over your face. We are not getting a dog, (Y/n).” Shinobu hated to tell them no, but she really couldn’t stand such furry animals.

“How about a cat?” (Y/n) asked, looking just as hopeful.

“No.”

“A bunny.”

“No.”

“A ferret.”

“No.”

“A—“

“(Y/n), we’ve talked about this. I’m not living under the same roof as some slobbery, wiggly, furry beast. If you want to play with an animal so badly, you can always visit Mitsuri’s cat, or her new rabbit too for that matter. Is that what brought this on?”

“A little,” (Y/n) stood up, forgoing eye contact with Shinobu to scan the rows of animals.

“A little, hm?” Shinobu crossed her arms, “and whatever else could possibly be at play?”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/n) shook their head, “want to grab lunch now?”

Shinobu tilted her head and gave (Y/n) a questioning look. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t nothing. Still, she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this stuffy room and wash her hands. She could question them about it later.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.” She smiled, looping (Y/n)’s arm with her own.

They waved at the volunteers and thanked them before heading out of the shelter and back to their car. They drove to one of their favorite spots with outdoor seating that overlooked the river, talking casually and laughing together while they waited for their food to arrive.

“You remember I have been invited to be a guest speaker at Kyoto University next week, right?” Shinobu had asked between bites.

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing is wrong per se, I was also asked just recently if I could stay a few days more to oversee a new experiment. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind, dear. I love how passionate you get about new projects. I hope you have fun.” (Y/n) smiled, though something seemed a bit forced about it from Shinobu’s perspective.

“Are you sure? I haven’t committed to it yet.” Shinobu tested.

“I’m sure, really. Why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?”

“The worried, suspicious kind of look.”

“It’s just that you have seemed kind of out of it since we left the animal shelter. You said it was nothing, but I’m not quite sure that’s true.”

“Shinobu, it’s fine, really,” (Y/n) assured as they paid for the meal, “do you want to go on the river walk trail before we head home or...?”

“What I’d really like to do is find out what’s bothering you.” Shinobu grumbled. Nevertheless, she took (Y/n) by the hand and led them down the path.

Plenty of people were out, enjoying the warmth the sun had to offer. Of course that meant a lot of people were out with their dogs as well. Shinobu took to using (Y/n) as a barrier whenever a dog veered too close to her, sniffing them with wagging tails. (Y/n) was all too happy to intercept the furry canines that they came across.

“This path should really be wider...” Shinobu would mumble, tugging (Y/n) along so they wouldn’t dwell for long.

“We’re almost back to the car. You’ll be okay, I’ll protect you.” (Y/n) teased, staring at Shinobu adoringly. Their hand was squeezed tightly while someone with a big St Bernard passed them by, its tail brushed against Shinobu’s thigh, making her shudder.

Shinobu heaved a huge sigh of relief when they got back into the car. As (Y/n) drove, Shinobu rolled down the window to send any little hair she found on her pants flying out on the wind.

“So, today was fun, right?” (Y/n) asked tentatively while taking the last turn to their house.

“Today was, something.” Shinobu shrugged. Yet she smiled sweetly and patted (Y/n)’s leg. “But any day I get to spend with you is a good day.”

“Aww, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple made the safe return to their house and lazed about for the rest of the day. When dinner came around they cooked together, spinning, teasing and brimming with cheer all the while. It was after they had gotten ready for bed and (Y/n) flopped into the covers beside Shinobu that the doctor decided to try her luck again.

“So what was on your mind today?” Shinobu asked while she turned on her side to observe her partner.

“You’re still on that?” (Y/n) poked Shinobu in the ribs, “let it go.”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong. I’m leaving for Kyoto soon and I want to get this all sorted out so it doesn’t fester while we’re apart. No matter how small a matter you think it is, anything that concerns you matters to me.” Shinobu spoke seriously.

(Y/n) was ready to deny Shinobu again up until she loomed above them on the bed with such stern eyes.

“I just miss you, you know. I guess I get kind of lonely when you’re away.” (Y/n) admitted.

“I miss you too. We always find time to text and facetime, that helps doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. The house though, it just feels empty without you. Of course I’ve got work to do too, but when I’m done and you’re not around, I just feel kind of sad.”

“You could always invite my sisters over, you all get along so well and Mitsuri and Iguro or any of our other friends and family.” Shinobu suggested, mildly upset with herself for not noticing sooner.

“I have before, but I can’t commandeer everyone’s plans every time you’re gone for an extended period of time. You don’t have to worry though, I find ways to keep myself busy.” (Y/n) said, snuggling deeper into the covers.

“I won’t stay the extra days, I’ll email the professors right now.” Shinobu moved to get out of bed but (Y/n) pushed her back down and held her in place.

“No need for that. I don’t want you to skip out on opportunities to grow your research for me. See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“This is why you took me to the animal shelter, isn’t it? So you had something to keep you company whenever I’m away.” Shinobu asked despite already knowing the answer.

“I’ll admit that was kind of the idea. I just wanted to see if anything would catch your eye, but I didn’t keep any unrealistic expectations. I knew you wouldn’t like anything furry. I was kind of hoping to find a hairless cat or something.”

“(Y/n), you should have told me. I would have—“

“You would have settled on something just to make me happy. I wanted to find something we’d both like.” (Y/n) rested their head on the pillow just above Shinobu’s shoulder and nuzzled it with their nose, looping an arm over Shinobu they sighed pleasantly, “It’s really okay. I’d let you know if I thought otherwise. Good night, love you.”

“Love you.” Shinobu smiled, resting her head atop (Y/n)’s.

While (Y/n)’s breathing slowed and they drifted off into unconsciousness, Shinobu was wide awake. She gently drummed her fingers over (Y/n)’s side while she searched her mind for a solution that would leave them both satisfied. Shinobu had raised fish for a time, but you couldn’t really pick them up or interact with them like one would a more traditional pet.

Shinobu slowly scooted to lay upright against the headboard and took her phone off the charger, turning down the brightness a bit when the harsh light hit her eyes. She typed the shelter into her search bar and navigated through the site, trying to imagine herself getting along with any of the animals and failing miserably.

She was about to give up and go to sleep when curiosity got the best of her and she clicked the tag marked ‘miscellaneous’. She hadn’t realized the shelter cared for such unusual animals. Shinobu smiled down at her partner sleeping in oblivious bliss. Maybe this could work out after all.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up to the smell of breakfast and lazily swiped their arm over the bed, searching in vain for the warmth of a body they knew couldn’t be there. With a tired whine, they resigned themself to getting up and stumbled into the kitchen.

“You’re up early.” (Y/n) yawned before giving Shinobu a quick peck on the cheek. “Something wrong at the pharmacy? The clinic? Leaving for Kyoto early?”

“Must there be something wrong in order for me to get up early?” Shinobu asked. To tell the truth, she hadn’t slept much at all; she was too busy researching to do so.

“No, it’s just that you prefer to sleep in when you don’t have plans.” (Y/n) said, moving to sit on top of the kitchen island.

“Oh, but I do have plans.” Shinobu cryptically corrected, standing between (Y/n)’s legs.

“You do, do you?” (Y/n) smiled, “do these plans involve me at all by chance?”

“In fact, they do.” Shinobu kissed (Y/n) before stepping back a bit to look them in the eyes. “So eat your breakfast and get dressed so we can head out.”

“Head out? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu finished their breakfast, showered and got dressed. Shinobu started up the car and they went off on their way. (Y/n) asked her a few more times for even just a hint but Shinobu simply smirked, holding a finger to her sealed lips.

She couldn’t keep the secret forever however, especially not after (Y/n) realized what road they just turned on.

“Shinobu, what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

“I trust you, but what are we doing back at the shelter?”

“Come with me and you’ll see.” Shinobu said, already getting out of the car.

(Y/n) unbuckled their seatbelt and quickly followed behind their partner, wondering just what idea could have gotten into Shinobu’s head. They managed to catch up to her just as she greeted the volunteer working the front desk.

“Good morning, we’re here to see Puppy.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu a weird look, but the doctor didn’t pay them much mind as the volunteer answered after a moment of confusion flashed in his eyes as well.

“Really? That’s wonderful! Come follow me to the back.” The young man said.

While the couple followed the volunteer to the back of the shelter, (Y/n) tried to figure out how they were going to dissuade Shinobu from picking out a dog just to please them. Shinobu couldn’t even remember to speak properly when thinking about it. I mean, ‘we’re here to see puppy’? Really? Not a puppy or the puppies just, puppy. She was really just going through the motions, wasn’t she?

“She’s right in there. She has her own little set up and everything. Poor thing was surrendered to us after her owner died of old age, but she seems to be adjusting well. Serve her up a nice big platter of salad and she’ll never forget it.” The jolly volunteer disclosed.

The previous owner died, had they? That was so sad. (Y/n) frowned at the thought. The salad comment got to them however. What kind of dog would want a salad of all things?

“May we go in?” Shinobu asked.

“Sure. Let me know if you’ve got any questions. I’ll be back at the desk if you need me.” The helpful man said before making his way back down the hall.

Shinobu wasted no time in gently pulling the door open and taking a step inside, much to (Y/n)’s surprise. Shinobu ducked her head back out and motioned (Y/n) forward with a curl of her finger. (Y/n) was so confused. Shinobu looked genuinely excited to show her this particular puppy. With a slight delay, (Y/n) followed her in and looked for the dog that had somehow managed to win over their Shinobu’s heart. Their eyes roamed around the room for a moment, they blinked, and nearly broke their neck with the force they used to turn their head back to the shape that had caught their eye.

“No way.” They breathed out.

“What do you think?” Shinobu asked, moving to crouch beside the large tortoise.

“That, that’s not a puppy.” (Y/n) stated dumbly, too shocked to say much else.

“Her name is Puppy. She’s a Sulcata, or an African Spurred Tortoise. Cute, isn’t she?” Shinobu softly stroke the tortoise’s head with her finger.

“She’s massive.” (Y/n) blinked. Perhaps they were still sleeping and this was all just a dream.

“Yes, the biography they had on the website said she’s a little over one-hundred-twenty pounds. She shouldn’t grow much more if at all though, she’s well over eighty years old. Your previous caretaker took really good care of you, huh?” Shinobu said, patting Puppy’s carapace as the giant reptile slowly scooted away.

“Eighty years... Shinobu, are you suggesting we adopt this grandma of a turtle?” (Y/n) watched attentively as Puppy scooted across the floor.

“Tortoise, (Y/n). And yes, I am. She may have more years than the two of us combined, but she could very easily live another sixty years with the proper care and attention.”

“Are we even equipped to give her that? I don’t think we could even pick her up? Like, how would we even get her home and where would we put her?”

“If we decide to adopt her, there plenty of ways to safely transport her. We can set up an enclosure in the back yard and let her roam around the house. We’ll have to keep an eye on her of course, but I’ve heard she’s quite well behaved.”

(Y/n) stared at Shinobu with awe. Never would they have thought Shinobu would speak so passionately about such an unusual animal unless it cultivated its own poison or was some kind of insect. They shook their head and smiled.

“You know,” they said, crouching down to stroke Puppy’s scaly leg, “an actual dog would be easier to take care of, relatively speaking.”

“Do you not like the idea?” Shinobu asked.

“Oh no, I was just wondering if we get divorced when we’re like, eighty, who gets Puppy?” (Y/n) laughed and rubbed their arm, Shinobu had punched it a little harder than she had meant to.

They took some time to get to know Puppy, feeding her some leafy greens from her veggie platter and petting her carapace. It didn’t take long for them to become completely enamored with the old gal.

They met up with the man at the front desk again and filled out an adoption form. It would take a couple days to be processed but Puppy was as good as theirs. They quickly made their way back home to continue their research and completed all the preparations to make the house and yard tortoise friendly.

A couple days later, and the adoption went through. The couple was elated and rushed to pick up the new addition of their family and bring her home. It was a bit tricky, but they made it without any complications.

They let Puppy settle in and explore the yard enclosure first before slowly guiding her to the house with collard greens and cabbage. As they sat in the middle of their living room with the foot and a half long tortoise, Shinobu found herself wishing she could just cancel her Kyoto trip altogether.

“This was a terrible idea. Now I never want to leave the house.” She sighed.

“Aww, it’s like Puppy is your baby. Your very old baby.” (Y/n) said, feeding Puppy another leaf.

“We never did discuss if we were going to give her a new name.” Shinobu thought suddenly. “Any thoughts?”

“Nah, I like Puppy. It’s cute. Besides, she’s had that name for almost a century, it doesn’t seem right to change it now.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that sentiment.” Shinobu nodded.

“You just want to tell Kanae we got a puppy and watch her face change as she realizes the truth, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Shinobu smiled mischievously.

***

When it came time for Shinobu to leave for Kyoto, she hugged (Y/n) close and kissed them sweetly.

“I’ll miss you.” She softly proclaimed.

“I’ll miss you too. I think Puppy will too.” (Y/n) said, looking down to watch Puppy step up to Shinobu’s foot. Most likely she was looking for a snack.

“I’ll miss you too, sweet girl!” Shinobu hummed, couching down to give Puppy a quick rubdown. “You and (Y/n) take good care of each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Puppy closed her eyes, enjoying the attention Shinobu gave. Shinobu returned to her full height and gave (Y/n) another kiss before grabbing her travel bag and heading for the front door. Before she was fully out of the house, she turned back and smiled at (Y/n).

“I almost forgot to tell you. I texted Kanae about Puppy. Expect her sometime today, she can’t wait to meet her,” Shinobu waved her phone at (Y/n), “try to catch her reaction and send it to me. I really wish I held off on telling her until after I got back.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Be safe.” (Y/n) waved in return, already well aware of what Shinobu had in mind for her unsuspecting sister.

“I will. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you,” (Y/n) watched Shinobu leave before looking back down at Puppy. “Come on, Puppy. Let’s go outside.”

They led Puppy to the backyard with some cabbage and set her up with some hay and other enrichment materials. It was maybe an hour later when (Y/n) heard movement from inside the house. Instead of panicking, they remembered what Shinobu had said and got their phone ready. Just as they hit record, Kanae slid the back door open and jogged over to (Y/n) with Kanao calmly closing the door behind her. Apparently Kanae had convinced her to tag along.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced her to get a puppy! How did you do it?” Kanae started in on (Y/n) immediately. “Where is the puppy? Shinobu wouldn’t send me any pictures.”

“Well...”

“...That’s not a puppy.”

(Y/n) and Kanae turned to Kanao who was staring down at Puppy as she snapped at some hay. (Y/n) turned their phone back just in time to catch Kanae’s double take and the journey of her expression from disbelief to acceptance.

“I should have known it wasn’t that simple!” She groaned, “(Y/n), what did you two do?”

“We got a sulcata tortoise from the animal shelter. Her name is Puppy,” (Y/n) noticed how mesmerized Kanao was by the reptile and grinned, “she’s really gentle, you can feed her some greens from that bucket if you’d like, Kanao.”

Kanao nodded, taking a big, leafy bok choy and offering it to the tortoise with bright, attentive eyes. The youngest sister did not seem the least bit disappointed by Shinobu’s farce.

“I can’t believe her! I should have seen this coming, Shinobu has detested furry things all her life, but this is like a literal dinosaur!” Kanae sighed and shook her head, “She really got me good.”

A moment later, and the eldest Kochou sibling realized (Y/n) had recorded the whole encounter.

“(Y/n), don’t send that! Don’t give her the satisfaction!” Kanae pouted, reaching for the phone.

“I’m sorry! She asked me to before she left.”

“You don’t need to do all of your partner’s dirty work. Come on, please?”

“Already sent.” (Y/n) said, a sympathetic smile tugged at their lips.

Kanae frowned and narrowed her eyes, reminding (Y/n) heavily of Shinobu. It was a look (Y/n) seldom saw on the usually cheery woman.

“Fine then. I’m going to pet that tortoise now, hopefully she’s more well mannered than her caretakers.” Kanae turned her nose up on (Y/n) and joined Kanao in gently patting Puppy.

(Y/n)’s phone buzzed and they looked down, Shinobu had answered quickly it seemed. A simple, ‘yes!’ with a couple variants of laughing emojis. But another message soon followed reading, ‘When I come back, we’re getting Mitsuri next.’

(Y/n) exhaled an amused sound and prepared themself for Shinobu to come back from her trip. They knew that once she returned, Shinobu would continue to pull the same joke about Puppy to all their friends and family until no one remained unaware.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Seven / Decaf

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, all of the dirty thoughts because Javi is a horndog, male masturbation... general spice. pining that could make a pine cone tremble.

A/N: welcome to pining central, enjoy your stay :) (ps when Steve says “Javier Peña” I need you to read that in the voice of Anthony Mackie going “SEBASTIAN STAN”)

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ordinary coffee that has had most of its caffeine removed from it before the beans are roasted.

You are a goddamn test on Javier’s self control. He feels like those biblical stories of men fighting back against temptation to prove themselves to God, except the only thing he has to prove is to himself. To you.

He’s always been enraptured by you, captivated by your smile and laugh but since you went ice skating, he hasn’t been able to get your body out of his mind. The way you fell asleep on him last night, nuzzled in like it was the safest place on earth. He could feel your breasts press into his skin, the warmth of your thigh hiked across his abdomen. If the past week has been some caffeine-induced fever dream, it’s becoming real now. You, a figment of his imagination before, maybe, are all flesh and blood and God, is he desperate for it.

Javier hangs around your apartment when you’re gone at work. He doesn’t have much else to do, considering you’re gone and he knows hardly anything about the city. He watches the daytime television on your couch, usually meanders to the coffee shop for a drink, spends some time there, and returns to the apartment.

He feels like he’s couch-surfing, like he did for a summer in his college years. He feels guilty occupying the space in your home, especially without payment. As he walks to the bathroom, he takes a long glance into your bedroom. The queen-sized bed is mussed, unmade before you left for work. The fitted sheet is pooled in the middle beneath where you sleep, the various blankets tossed about. It looks like the coziest damn thing he’s ever seen, especially after a couple of nights on a couch.

Javier almost thinks about giving in, waiting for you to ask him to sleep in your bed tonight then jumping at the chance. Maybe he will, if he’s tired enough. Maybe he won’t, but maybe he will. He can think of nothing better than the endless whir of the radiator as your perpetually-cold body nuzzles against him, brushes your nose against his bare chest.

It’s been a long time since Javi has fucked anyone, and he’s starting to feel it. He’s a little antsy, and the image of your body, your ass as you ice skate past him, haunts him like a bad dream- or rather some illicit fantasy he knows he shouldn’t be having.

Would you want him yet? You’ve told him you love him, but that was an accident. When he kisses you, you kiss back harder. Hell, you initiated the first kiss. You seem like you’ve been all-in on this relationship, taking things at a rushed pace that Javier certainly doesn’t mind. He spends a lot of the day contemplating that, standing on the tiny balcony of your apartment and smoking a couple of cigarettes.

At this point, he needs a distraction or he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. What better to kill the horny buzz making his head spin than to call Murphy?

The phone is in your bedroom, on the nightstand. Javier dares to sit on the edge of your bed, and actually moans aloud at the plush comfort, the way his ass sinks into it. Goddamn, he’ll have to get one of these. He wants nothing more than to lay back and fall into the bed, wait for you to get home and pound you into the comfortable mattress. But he doesn’t. He stays strong and picks up the phone, dialing the new Murphy residence in Miami.

After a couple of rings, a familiar voice answers. “Murphy’s.”

“Hey, bastard,” Javier chuckles, and he can hear the blonde man’s laughter from across the receiver.

“Javier Peña,” Steve drawls, dragging out the name. “Good to hear your voice, man. You finally come out of a ten-day celebratory drunkenness?”

“Don’t talk to me about binges,” Javier teases, but he smiles a little. He’s missed the man. He’s glad neither of them got in any trouble over the entire Los Pepes situation- God, that feels like ages ago now. It’s hard to believe he’s only been in D.C. what, eleven days? If Steve’s math is right, yeah. “No. I’m in D.C. still, if you can believe it. Just… bored.”

“Oh really?” the man scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter in Miami with Olivia on his hip. “And why’s that? What are you still doin’ up there anyway? Thought you were goin’ to visit the old man.”

Javier shakes his head. “Plans changed. There’s, uh… there’s a girl.”

Steve lets out a wolf whistle, laughing. “And how much does she charge a night?”

“Not one of those. She works at a coffee shop around here,” he informs him. “She’s… she’s really something. Nothing I ever thought I’d be into. She’s gorgeous, man, and so energetic all the damn time. Seems like she has an IV of coffee from her shop,” he chuckles, looking off into space. He takes a pause. Steve doesn’t speak. “I wanna be with her Steve. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go back.”

He’s silent a little longer. “This is some kind of practical joke, right?” Steve says after a beat, barely holding back a laugh. Never has Javier been so sincere, so real and honest and open. And more specifically, he’s never been like this over a girl. Almost… mushy. Soft. “Tell me more,” he says, hoping the joke will give up.

Javier talks about you, describing every little detail with a grin on his face. He tells Steve about Tie Guy and ice skating and your piece of shit car, how you can spin in circles on the ice and how you remind him of a busy little bee, fluttering about the coffee shop.

Steve is genuinely rendered speechless; a hard thing to do. He blinks down at Olivia then straight ahead at the refrigerator, covered in photos and magnets and drawings. He can’t imagine Javier ever wanting something like this, like what he and Connie have, but he sure sounds like it. “That’s… something. Good for you, Javi,” Steve chuckles, resigning to sincerity. “I’m happy for you.”

Javier grumbles back. “Don’t get too happy. I have to go back to Calí in three weeks. She doesn’t want me to leave… I don’t know what to do, Murph. I can’t bring her with, you know that, but I can’t just leave her here. And I sure as hell can’t quit.”

“You could quit.”

“I’m not going to, how’s that?” Javier huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed by Steve and his goddamn wording loopholes. “I just… fuck. I’m gonna go think about it before she gets back.”

“She comin’ to your hotel? You sure you aren’t paying per night?” He smirks.

Javier’s quiet and Steve isn’t sure what it means until he talks. “I’m, uh, staying at her place. She insisted.”

Steve whistles again. “Damn. You’re whipped, Peña. Well, I’ll let you go. Call again soon. I miss ya, bud,” he tells Javier in a moment of earnesty then hangs the phone back on the receiver, bringing Olivia to her nursery to change her diaper.

Javi sighs and falls backwards on the bed, admiring the way the mattress holds his body compared to the couch. Yeah, he’ll definitely need to sleep in here tonight or he’s going to crack his spine.

The issue will be you. He could handle it on the couch; it was like a soft, adolescent form of love, innocent and warm. Of course, it could still be the same in your bed. But would it? Is there not a different set of implications that come with the two of you sharing a bed?

Snuggling with you on the couch was nice. Wonderful, perfect even. Javier loves falling asleep with you in his arms. But in your bed, arms curled around him, maybe even being his little spoon… that perfect body pressed flush to his own, your soft ass against his groin, your breathing pushing back into his chest… that would be an entirely different thing. And he wants it, he really does, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He slept like shit the last night, to be honest. You on top of him prevented him from moving, and Javier is an active sleeper. His neck was at an odd angle and his back twisted. His body feels like it did after that fight with Tie Guy. He can’t- wouldn’t- invade your privacy of your bed without you home to give him the go ahead, but he’s so damn tired. Not even the coffee helps.

So Javier indulges in one of life’s little pleasures he rarely gets to experience: a nap. Curled up on his side on the couch, blankets pulled snug around his fetal-positioned body, Javier drifts off to the sound of the noon news on the television.

That’s how you find him when you come home. He’s peacefully asleep, his lips parted and mustache moving with his exhales. Well, he’s clearly alive. That’s good.

You’re not sure how long he’s been asleep, so you leave him, making yourself something to eat in the kitchen. You avoid the living room as you get settled in, changing out of your espresso-stained clothing and into something more comfortable.

When you’re all comfy, makeup removed and a warm sweater on, you sit at the other end of the couch. Javier’s curled into a ball, his feet just inches away from your legs. You hope when he moves, he’ll feel you there and wake. If not, oh well. He deserves the rest.

It’s gray and cloudy outside, and you snuggle into the corner of the couch while reading your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It’s the one you’ve been re-reading recently, what you were reading that first day Javi wandered into your coffee shop and subsequently your life.

Javi wakes not long later, maybe half an hour, to the sound of your book crinkling. The paperback’s spine crunches with wear, and his eyes flutter open to see you tucked against a pillow. God, you look like an angel, the light from the cloudy day filtering in and illuminating you from the back. Your face is calm and peaceful, focused as your eyes trace the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Hi,” Javier mumbles groggily.

Your expression turns to a smile and you set down the book. “Hey.” You take his legs and drape them across your lap, tracing your fingers across them. “How’d you sleep?”

He groans. “Okay. Neck hurts.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just sleep with me,” you sing-song to him, stroking his legs through the comfortable pants he wears. “My bed is super cozy.”

God, does Javier know it. It felt like your love itself when he laid down and the warmth of it swallowed him, practically whole. “Maybe I’ll give in,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was work? Sorry I didn’t visit.”

“Boring as always,” you chuckle. “What did you do today?”

Javi frowns as he thinks about it, his brain fogged with sleep. “Not much. Called Murphy, talked a while. He’s doing good.”

“Good,” you nod and smile. “When will I get to meet this elusive Steve?” You ask, softly kneading at his legs through the blanket and frowning as you realize he’s wearing… jeans. “Wait, pause. Are you seriously wearing jeans?” you ask him and laugh, lifting the blanket to confirm what you already suspected.

He frowns defensively, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

“Why the fuck would you take a nap in jeans, Javi?” You laugh.

Javier looks away, frowning. The stubbornness shows. “I don’t own many comfortable clothes besides what I wear to work, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts, but you can’t help but giggle. “Plus I thought I’d only be here to get fired.”

You smile at him lovingly and cup his face. “You sweet, stupid workaholic. Let’s go shopping later, get you some cozy stuff.”

Javier warms against your touch but maintains a pout. “I like jeans.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a laugh. “Would a pair of sweatpants be detrimental to your wardrobe, Javier?”

“Stop using big words,” he groans. “I’m barely awake.”

-

The large mall is annoying to Javier, full to the brim with last-minute (or maybe prepared, he never holiday-purchases) shoppers. He holds your hand, shooting feisty glares at anyone that dares to bump against his or, god forbid, your side. “Relax,” you tease and squeeze his free hand. The other carries a bag containing two hoodies, three t-shirts, and two pairs of sweatpants. “You’re not on a mission, and you certainly don’t have the knuckles to pitch another fight.”

He looks at his hands and scowls. You’re right. They’re no longer black and blue but faded yellows and greens, a spare bit of purple over the bones. The fight wasn’t that long ago, really, even though it feels like an eternity.

You drag Javier into a favorite shop of yours. He follows you around like a lost puppy while you search through clothes. He even hands you one or two tops he thinks you’d look nice in. You kiss him on the cheek and he dares to smile for a moment before returning to his stone-faced annoyance at such a packed area.

The dressing rooms are nicer, much more spaced out and offering places to rest. Javier sits in a chair across from your little cubby as you try things on. Every time you find something, you come out and model it for him. He comments, always positively, gives a little applause and smiles at the twirl you give in the big trifold mirror.

There’s one pair of leggings that hug your ass tight. Javier nearly salivates at them. “I like those,” he comments. “They look comfortable.” The same follows with a pair of jeans, even more flattering. He crosses his legs and nods, giving you similar comments.

Then come the dresses and tops. They’re all low-cut, not the wintery clothing Javier’s always seen you in. They show off your cleavage, and one scarlet colored blouse with a low neckline and fluffy sleeves makes Javier’s eyes simultaneously light up and darken. “How’s this one?” You ask, tugging at the sleeves.

“How much is it?” He asks, leaning back and looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Uh…” you tell him the cost and look back up at him, expecting a comment. “Why?”

“I’m buying that for you myself,” he smirks up at you, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin feel intensely hot. The sight is stunning to him, and your flustered smile makes the smirk a little more devilish.

Javier does end up buying you the shirt, and you purchase a few other things you liked. But that scarlet shirt is stuck on Javier’s mind in replay: the subtle valley between your tits, how they filled out the shirt just perfectly and tugged at the cloth covering them, the way they look painfully soft to the touch, especially through that soft fabric. He wonders if you were wearing a bra under it. Then he has to stop himself.

You eat dinner late, chatting mindlessly over everything and nothing. Javier has no work to speak of now, so he tells you tall tales of the hunt for Escobar, some exaggerated and some underplayed. He mainly listens to you, asks about your past and your future, your family and your job. He could never tire of your voice, the soothing lull that warms him from the inside out, just like your skin flushed in that goddamn red top.

He drives the both of you home, humming softly to the songs on the radio. He’s beginning to recognize more and more of the top-40 hits on a certain preset station, songs he’d never listen to on his own. He glances over at you, gazing out of the window, and feels his body warm again- not just in his heart, but his stomach and lower too. He dares to steal a glance down, at the soft swell of your tits in that sweater. God, he wants to get you naked.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what you want and he’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to shatter this blissful phase of adoration without the sexual attraction. He wonders if you feel it too, if your clothes suddenly feel too restricting and too warm when you run a hand down his bare back.

The nightly routine ensues: you shower. Javier changes, this time into a new hoodie but leaves his legs bare, wearing only boxers on the bottom. He waits on the couch, and when you exit the bathroom, he takes his turn. He returns and sits next to you on the couch.

Tonight, when you ask him to share your bed with you, he doesn’t say no. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything, just yawns softly and stands, taking your hand.

It’s a sacred space, your bed. Javier knows it. He rarely fucks women in his; whether it’s for his own privacy or fear they’ll fall asleep there, he can’t say. But your bed is such an intimate expression of you, and he can see it. He can see the divot in the mattress where you sleep, the way you arrange the pillows just right for your own head. It is a queen size, but it’s single-occupancy: until now, that is, and Javier feels honored you’re willing to share this holiness with him.

He gets into the bed on the other side of you, the warm blankets enveloping him, and he nearly lets out a moan at the comfort. Compared to the hotel bed and the couch, this is sleeping on a literal cloud from the heavens. He lies still, waiting to see what you do first. Not wanting to overstep anything.

His prayers are answered when you snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest, kissing his sternum through the soft material of the hoodie. A hand rests on the other side of your face, and your legs both encircle one of his. Javier smiles, wrapping an arm around you. He presses a kiss into your hair and murmurs a goodnight, letting his head fall back. He has no time to worry about this situation before he falls asleep.

He falls asleep almost immediately, which makes you chuckle through your half-conscious state. He seems to always radiate heat, Javier. Your layers of blankets upon blankets suddenly feel unnecessary when a heat source the strength of the summer sun fills your bed. His chest is strong and firm beneath you. The rise and fall of his chest is like a boat rocking on the ocean, putting you at ease and allowing you to rest.

-

Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do this?

The clock reads 1:48 and Javier is wide awake, staring at your popcorn-stucco-whatever the fuck it is ceiling. He wasn’t able to process this before sleep overtook him, before his consciousness was wiped and with it, his inhibitions.

Your body is pressed to his so perfectly. You sleep without a bra, and Javier can feel his arm being slightly sandwiched between your breasts, the way they press further into it every time you inhale. Your thighs are warm with sleep, and he can feel your core pressed against his hip, even while you sleep and even through the layers of clothing.

Javier feels like the embodiment of slime. You’re asleep and all he can think about is how fucking hot your body is, how much he wants to press you into this mattress and wake you with an orgasm. He wants to palm your tits and make your nipples harden through that flimsy shirt, to slide his fingers beneath your pajama bottoms and-

He can’t take it. He feels so wrong, the smell of you surrounding him and choking him like a thick perfume, even in its subtlety. He does not deserve to sleep next to you, innocently, like someone you love, when all he can think about is his own carnal desires.

Pushing back the covers, Javier gets out of bed before any more blood can flow to his slowly hardening dick. This is all wrong. He should not be doing this, thinking these things without knowing you feel the same.

But the guilt is as strong as his arousal. He watches you for a moment, torn between his options, before meandering through the darkened bedroom and finding his way into the bathroom. He turns on the bright lights and forces himself to stare at the bulbs, to make his pupils shrink from their blown state of sleep mixed with desperation. He’s fully awake now.

He needs to get the hardened length down. He can’t do this, can’t allow himself this suffering while you sleep in the next room.

The sink. Cold water. He gasps silently at the splash of the ice-cold water against his face, dampening the edges of his hoodie. It doesn’t work enough. Again. Nothing. He feels like a teenager, unable to control himself. The cold water is a good idea, though.

Javier strips down, trying to avoid the urge to take himself in hand and fix this here and now. Turning the water as cold as it can go, Javier turns on the shower and steps in.

Agony is the best term he has. It makes him want to squeal like a fucking pig as he shudders from the cold. It doesn’t work to force his erection down, but what use is it when it’s not something physical but mental stimulating him? The cold shock didn’t do shit. Javier’s still achingly hard. He turns the water warmer and sighs as it gradually turns to a tolerable temperature, one that he can relax under and allow himself to let out a deep sigh.

He has no other options, unless he wants to wait it out. Leaning against the wall, Javier strokes himself, biting his lip and hoping the water pressure will cancel any soft moans he can’t avoid. It doesn’t take long when he’s this aroused, when he knows exactly what the fantasy in his head would feel like.

Javier is panting and sweating, from the effort and the growing heat of the water. He feels disgusting but it feels so good, and he can’t help imagining you doing this to him, you spreading your legs and feeding the fire between his own.

It only takes a few minutes. He gasps as he cums, with a force he’s never brought forth with his own hand. He bites his lip so hard he’s sure he might cut it off, not allowing the desperate sounds to reach a level you could hear. When he’s done, he groans and cracks his neck. “Oh, little bee,” he whispers, agonized as he lets the water wash the evidence of his sins down the drain.

When he’s done, Javier walks into your bedroom, silently, in the dark. His previous boxers were stained with a patch of his precum; he can’t put those back on. He drops the towel and puts on different boxers.

After he’s changed, he looks at your bed longingly for a moment. The soft sheets, soft mattress, the soft body between them. But in Javier’s head, he’s forsaken his right to the warmth, the comfort.

When you wake in the morning, hours after you thought you heard the shower running, you find Javier is not in your bed. There isn’t even a warm spot where he lay, just your body shifted further from your normal sleeping position. When you wander out to make your morning coffee, you find him. He spent the night on the couch again.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles @beskarboobs @wintermuteway

[stellocchia]

Sooo, remember this: Platonic Soulmates AU? Yeah... I actually wrote something for Bee Duo based on it because I was feeling like it. 

It’s pretty short and kinda different from my usual writing style, but it was fun!

                                     Dissonant Melody

Tubbo and Ranboo have the perfect life. They have their big mansion, multiple houses, a son, more riches than anyone else on the server, and, most importantly, they have each other. They’re both seventeen and they already found their soulmate. Not only that, but they are both alive and their bond is as strong as can be with emotions flowing freely through it.

They’re lucky, they know they are.

They’re lucky, luckier than most, so they can never say otherwise.

They’re lucky, but why doesn’t it feel like it?

Why has the mansion stayed empty since it got built? Why are they still living so far apart, pretending that the distance will hide their distress from the other?

Tubbo lost a nuke a while ago. Tubbo lost his best friend not long before that. Tubbo lost so much and yet he hasn’t said a word. He doesn’t need to, of course, because he’s fine. He is perfectly fine and if his laboured breaths and tachycardia when he wakes up in the middle of the night were anything out of the ordinary he’s sure that Ranboo would tell him.

Ranboo hasn’t felt in control in a while. He’s not sure how often he actually sleeps compared to how often the… other him simply takes control. His experiments are supposed to be working. They are supposed to give him answers to give him control. They aren’t. But he can’t bother his family with his burden. He can’t look at his husband and child and admit to being nothing but a monster. He knows they would hate him, and they should hate him, really! He just can’t bring himself to be the one to spill his dirty little secret.

Tubbo and Ranboo are seventeen and they already figured out what soulmates aren’t supposed to be. Soulmates aren’t supposed to be the person you share your burdens with. They aren’t supposed to be the person you’re honest with. They aren’t who you go to, to open up about your past. They aren’t there to give you acceptance, they shouldn’t be. They aren’t there to confide in.

Tubbo and Ranboo also know what soulmates are supposed to be. They are the person who’s going to keep you company when you need some silly escapade to distract you from the real world. They are the person who knows you are lying when you say that you’re fine and will lie right back to you. They are the person you smile at and laugh with. They are the person that will let you be a kid around them and not expect something different, something more. They are the person who can perceive your feelings, but who’ll never call attention to them.

Maybe it isn’t perfect, but is it even meant to be?

Because the truth is that they’re young, both of them, and sometimes all they need is someone who’ll let them be.

So maybe it is perfect in their own imperfect way.

And maybe Tommy was talking out of his ass when he mentioned that they might need a “balance”, a suggestion from his therapist apparently.

Because Tubbo is happy. He may not have been home for a while, too busy with his newest project, but he knows that Michael will be there when he gets back and Ranboo is just one call away, ready to aid him when he feels like building another sandstone dick on the roof of the prison. And the outpost is not yet another way to run away from his problem. It’s not another manifestation of denial, it isn’t. And Tubbo sometimes really wishes that Tommy never learned all that fancy terminology, because now it doesn’t feel like they’re on the same level anymore. And Tubbo is fine with that, even if now he feels stupid when trying to talk to him. He didn’t need a friend to open up to anyway.

And it’s fine that Ranboo seems to get his best friend better than he does nowadays. And it’s fine that Tommy goes to him first when he needs something. It’s fine that they are close to each other and that they seem open with each other. It’s fine because it’s not what Tubbo needs and it’s not what he knows how to give. It’s fine, but sometimes Tubbo wishes that he could say it wasn’t.

Ranboo is happy as well of course. He is living with the men who destroyed the first home he’s ever known, but he moved past that. He doesn’t hold grudges really. It’s not useful, it only leads you to choose sides and he won’t, he can’t. If he does then it’ll be much harder to justify to himself why choosing his friends in the past was never worth it. Why fighting by their side for what was important to them was wrong. Why Tubbo’s resigned face, while Ranboo was letting his home blow up, shouldn’t haunt him.

But he was right, thankfully, so he is happy. And Dream is locked up where he can’t hurt anyone anymore, and there are only two deaths that disprove that. And Ranboo may not be in control of his actions or his mind, but he will be, once he figures out how to deal with his problems. And if he doesn’t well… he is sure that there must be a way to convince Sam to lock him up in Pandora’s Vault. He might not even have to convince him once the Warden finds out what type of monster he truly is. Before that though he’s gonna help Tubbo with his surveillance post.

This new project seems to have given a new rhythm to the both of them, a new purpose.

They aren’t working on it together per se. That would require a level of communication that neither of them is capable of. But they are still cooperating nonetheless.

This is the closest they’ve been in a while and neither of them really knows what to do with it. And that’s not right, they’re soulmates and they’ve been close for a long time now! So why is it that they feel more like strangers?

They see each other sometimes, on their way to and from the outpost and it’s like meeting and estranged family member more than their husband. It’s all polite greetings and embarrassed shuffling of their feet. One of them will ask the other what’s going on in their life, the answer is always kept vague.

Both of them can feel how much the other wants the conversation to end every time, but they still persevere because they shouldn’t want that.

It takes a few weeks for the awkwardness to shift into resentment.

It takes a few weeks before Ranboo comments on how distant and cold Tubbo has been. On how he feels like they aren’t close anymore. It takes mere seconds, after that, for Tubbo to yell about how Ranboo can’t speak when he’s still living with the man who murdered him.

Words they never meant to utter out loud fly freely then.

Suddenly it becomes apparent how little they knew of each other. Did they ever even know the other at all? Were any of the good moments real?

Is Tubbo really the uncaring, distant pushover that brought his country to ruin that Ranboo claims him to be?

Is Ranboo truly the self-absorbed, spineless traitor that Tubbo thinks he is?

They’re both panting by the end. Exhaustedly looking at the ground. 

That was what they needed supposedly, that’s what everyone said. A “balance” between sharing their burdens and granting the other the lightheartedness of youth. But it was too little too late I’m afraid.

There was nothing there anymore. That bond that seemed so perfect and strong came undone in less then an hour. Bitterness was left where that tentative sense of belonging used to be.

After all they were strangers now, it was well past the time for sharing.

[hobbitingryffindor]

Don’t respond after 9 pm

So I've never written fanfic before, but apparently, I'm pissed at Jane. Please be kind, but also let me know if I should continue. I have a few other rules and scenes in mind. I have no idea if this will grow into anything more. Constructive feedback would be great.

___

Maura was ruminating. It was never good when she couldn’t get through her Saturday morning yoga session, but these days, it was becoming the norm. So after she finished her cup of tea, she locked herself in her yoga room, rolled out her yoga mat, and settled in with herself.

She had rules. They were new, and it was hard to keep to them some days, but they were there because she knew better. She knows she deserves more. She may not have had an attentive family growing up, but she knows her worth, or at least she’s gotten better at reminding herself. She knows what they have goes beyond friendship. She also knows it will never be more. Jane just keeps holding back the final piece of the puzzle. She could resign herself to a lifetime of this sexually charged and emotionally mediocre but never fulfilling relationship OR she could take a step back from Jane and a step forward for herself. But last night she forgot. She forgot the first rule she put in place almost a month ago.

1 - Don’t respond to Jane after 9 pm

Recognizing the anxious feeling that started in her chest, she told herself that it was a slip-up and it wouldn’t happen again. But she couldn’t help but grab her phone and reread last night’s messages.

10:36: J - Hey, you still up?

10:42: M - Just finished Bass’ enrichment and heading up to bed.

It had been such a simple response, it just floated out of her fingertips. She was so used to just always responding to Jane.

10:43: J- Enrichment? You can just say that you were in the sandbox hiding food for Bass to find.

10:44: M- Fine yes, I was reading his namesake’s new foreword in “Skeletal biology and bioarchaeology of the Northwestern Plains” while bass dug up the cactus leaves and strawberries I hid in his sandbox.

10:44: J- You make my night of watching the Sox lose seem like an exciting night

10:45: M- What can I say? We love to party over here.

10:45: J- I don’t know when it started, but you’ve gotten really good at sarcasm

10:46: M- You must be rubbing off on me ;-)

As Maura reread that line, she couldn’t help but cringe a little. She really couldn’t stop herself from going there last night, it was yet another small slip up, that showed how their friendship was always a little more than friendship.

10:59: J- I feel like I haven’t seen you at all this week, is the morgue backlogged?

11:04: M- It’s no busier than usual. Actually a little less so without a murder yet this month.

11:04: J- Give it time, Boston can’t go more than 2 weeks without a new murder. Have you been in court on other cases this week? I went to see if you could grab lunch a few times and I never caught you.

11:05: M- We must have just missed each other, I did lunch out of the office a few times.

11:07: J- You going to fancy places without me now?

11:09: M - Really Jane, any place that doesn’t allow jeans, you label as fancy. But no, a friend from my residency, Erica, did a few guest lectures at BCU. I caught one of her lectures and we had lunch a few times.

11:09: J- I see how it is, replacing me with other genii.

Reading this for a second time feels like a needle in her chest, last night it paralyzed her, she didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t replacing Jane, per se. This was also the point last night where she realized her mistake in responding to Jane’s late text. Even now, she still isn’t sure she handled it correctly.

11:18: J- Any plans for tomorrow?

11:20 M- While genii is correct, you can just say geniuses, you don’t have to try so hard. And, no I’m not replacing you. I was planning on browsing Newbury St in the afternoon.

11:21 J- Great, so I’ll pick you up at 2, I’ll carry the bags and then we can hit up Eataly for dinner? We haven’t been there in a while.

11:25 M- That’s okay Jane, I know you don’t enjoy my long shopping ventures, you don’t have to come. And I’ve got dinner plans, I’m sorry. But I’ll see you Sunday night for dinner.

After that, it was radio silence from Jane. Even after all these years, all the social cues Jane’s helped her learn, she still doesn’t know how to read the silence. Last night she was torn. She wanted to hang out with Jane but didn’t. Now she had to live with rejecting Jane’s plans, and what felt like a rejection of Jane herself.

That’s what brought her here, meditating as the sun was rising, or trying to anyway. Maura shook herself out and realized she was going to need a little help this morning clearing her mind. So she opened up the Calm app and resigned herself to a guided meditation. Maura went through the motions of her day, finishing off with an overzealous stop at Diane Von Furstenberg’s on Newbury just because. She still hadn’t heard from Jane and was trying to tell herself it was okay, they were okay, they were just both adjusting to this new normal. Maura hadn’t figured out what this new normal was supposed to be, but she knew she was unhappy with how Jane and she were a couple in every way, except in the way that mattered. Their friendship was unhealthy as it was. If they were only going to be friends, Maura was going to start making space in her life for other friends and possibly a lover or two. She can’t pinpoint when it happened, but her very active and healthy sex life seemed to slowly dry up the closer she and Jane got.

______________

Dressed in her new Midi dress, and a brand new pair of St. Laurent sandals, she waived to Angela across the courtyard as she headed off to meet Erica. Driving to the Chart House, she couldn’t help but reflect and acknowledge that Eric’s timing was creating a good distraction for her. She and Erica had done their residencies together, they hadn’t been best of friends, but she was always warm to Maura and tried to include Maura in her social circle. A few years after Maura moved to Boston, she reached out when she landed in Providence doing a Post Doc Fellowship at Brown. They’d do dinner a few times a year, trade interesting journal articles, nothing special, but it was nice to have a friend outside of BPD. When BCU invited Erica to guest lecture for the week, Maura decided she’d just drop in on the first lecture, which led to a couple of lunches earlier in the week, and a celebration dinner as Erica was just offered a tenure track faculty position starting in the fall. Pulling up to the valet station, she decided that this was just what she needed to expand her social circle a bit. She’d enjoy her evening, celebrate Erica’s new position and enjoy the late spring evening.

______________

Like clockwork on Sunday around noontime, the Rizzoli’s started to filter into her home. Angela always led the parade, bringing groceries and starting the prep process. Over the next couple of hours Jane, her brothers, little TJ, Frost, Korsak, Kiki, and even Susie sometimes would wander in and fill her house. When she invited Angela to live in the guest house almost 4 years ago, she never thought it was going to be permanent, nor did she think she’d enjoy having her there as much as she does. For all of Angela’s meddling and snooping in Jane’s life, she’d been nothing but respectful of Maura’s boundaries and privacy. Maura treasured how their patchwork family considered her house their gathering place, when it was full, it felt like the warm home she yearned for as a child. The amazing dinners, even if sometimes unhealthy, were a vehicle for that love and inclusion Maura had spent over 30 years searching for. She’d found it with Jane and her family, but she still craves more. She wants more than a patchwork family, she wants her own family.

As Maura was finishing up working in the garden beds Tommy and TJ arrived. By the time she’d entered the kitchen freshly showered and ready for Angela to put her to work, she saw Jane and Frankie had joined Tommy in watching a basketball game. Maura greeted everyone while looking at the TV, she noticed no one was wearing a green jersey so she knew Boston wasn’t playing, which usually boded well for her couch and rugs. TJ was in his high chair feeding himself some plain pasta while Angela sang to him. Maura and Angela quickly fell into their rhythm with this week’s batch of Ragu simmering on the stove. By the time the lasagna was in the oven, Frost, Korsak, and Kiki had arrived and, Angela and Maura joined the gang in the living room to snack on some arancini before dinner.

While Maura and Angela always cooked, the most relaxing part of Sunday dinners was when Jane and Maura cleaned up. Never fail the boys would head out not long after dessert and the games were over. And Jane in her way of appreciating her mother would kick her back to the guest house for an early night, while she took charge of cleaning up the kitchen.

“Another glass of wine while you work?” Jane asked Maura while grabbing the bottle

Maura just put her glass in front of Jane while nodding for more. The pots and pans were washed, the dishwasher had already started its cycle and Jane and Maura were moving to the living room to straighten up before settling in to catch up on their week. Normally all this happened with a comfortable level of conversation between them, but tonight, there was a little more silence than usual. With blankets folded and the remote located, they settled into the couch, each sitting against an arm, facing each other.

“You know mom asked me how your date went last night, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone” Jane started.

“It wasn’t a date, I told you I was going to dinner with Erica, she’s just accepted an offer at BCU.”

“No, you said you had lunch with Erica” with a slight hint of annoyance that only Maura could pick up on. “I didn’t know you guys were doing dinner, I thought you might have been hiding a new boyfriend from me”

“No, no new boyfriend Jane. Although that would be nice or maybe a girlfriend, I haven’t dated a woman since I first moved to Boston”

Jane nodded, her eyes a little bigger than normal, sometimes Maura could swear Jane forgot she was pansexual.

“What about you? You seeing anyone new?” Maura asked, mostly to take the heat off of her. She didn’t know what was worse, talking about her lackluster dating life or trying to appear supportive of Jane's dating life when all she wanted was to be the person dating Jane.

“No, although Frost mentioned his old college roommate is single. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining the idea of letting him set me up.”

“You should at least meet him, if Frost is setting you up, I’m sure he’s a good man.” Maura grinned through a fake smile.

“I don’t know” Jane responded, Maura saw the walls going up “ I don’t want to talk about dating. Is Erica going to move to Boston? You know you’ve never introduced us, are you scared I’ll embarrass you?” Jane half-joked, changing the topic.

“No Jane, you have to stop with the self-deprecating humor, you know I’m not embarrassed by you. And yes, she needs to finish teaching a summer seminar at Brown, and then she’ll move up here.” The next words fell out of her mouth as soon as they occurred to her “I should see if she wants to come to next Sunday’s dinner.” Seeing Jane’s small annoyance grow into jealously, she redirected. “She can meet everyone, but please don’t interrogate her for college stories. You already know I was weird and awkward, you don’t need more things to tease me about!”

Jane took the bait “Ohhhh, I didn’t even think of that! I wonder if she’s got pictures!!

Maura just rolled her eyes, relieved that the tension was broken. She really did want Jane and everyone else to accept Erica, she remembered what it was like moving back to Boston and not having anyone. The rest of the night passed quickly, Maura kept the topics to mostly work or Boston politics. Jane could rant about local politics for hours and it didn’t put Maura at risk of gazing at Jane like she wanted to take her upstairs. A little before 11, Jane sighed and made her excuses about getting back to Jo before she relieved herself on the rug again. Pre-rules Maura might have made some comment about how much wine Jane had and how she should stay the night. Post-rules Maura kept her mouth shut. As Maura locked the door behind Jane, she couldn’t help but hope that just maybe, with some delicate balancing, she’d be able to move on from Jane and keep her as a friend.

________

Later that week Maura found herself at the Robber with the whole group, even Susie joined them. Maura was finding her new footing and it felt nice, it gave her a boost of confidence. Jane no longer acted as her interpreter when Frost made a joke, Korsak no longer felt the need to censor his dirty jokes and Susie actually had a pretty foul mouth once she had a few drinks. More than ever she noticed how breaking down her walls, allowed others to break their own down around her. She didn’t feel like Queen of the Dead anymore, she was Maura. As the night stretched on the table shuffled around a bit, Korsak left to meet Kiki, Frankie and Nina joined, Susie went home and Frost tried his luck with a pretty blonde at the bar.

Maura didn’t even notice how slowly Jane crept to her, close enough that her side was against Maura and her arm draped behind Maura across the back of the booth. But she did notice when the vibe between Jane and her started to mirror that of Frankie and Nina, right down to Jane ordering Maura another drink before checking with her. Maura and Jane were a couple, they couldn’t help it. The small touches, the laughing into each other’s sides, even the stolen glances. It no longer felt like hanging out, it felt like they were on a double date. It was too much for Maura, she excused herself to the bathroom to regroup. Looking at herself in the mirror, she scolded herself. She had to get out of there, she needed more distance. How could she possibly have her own relationship if she always ended up with Jane?

“I didn’t realize how late it had was,” Maura said marching up to the booth. “I’m going to head home. I’ll see you all in the morning? Those cultures should be ready by 10, I’ll page you when I have the report ready.” All of a sudden Maura infused a formalness into the air that wasn’t there before. Frankie raised his eyebrows but said nothing. It was weird for Maura to leave without Jane, or at least inviting Jane back to her house.

“I’ll leave with you” Jane started to get up.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m parked just across the street. I’ll be fine, stay, enjoy the rest of your beer” Maura responded with a slightly stern note. Jane nodded, “Party pooper, leaving me with these love doves” gesturing to Frankie and Nina, while they responded with mock offense. As Maura walked away, she didn’t see Frankie lean in and whisper to Jane.

Once Maura settled into bed for the evening she decided it was time for her to get out there. Even if it meant her joining one of those annoying dating sites. It was better to be trying than pining. Last week Erica had suggested How About We, it was worth at least signing up. She decided that it couldn’t hurt more than she was already hurting. While she hadn’t opened up to Erica about how frustrated she was with her’s and Jane’s relationship, she had expressed a desire to get out there more and Erica had offered a few bits of advice. If she couldn’t go to Jane about this, it was nice to at least have another friend to commiserate with about dating. As soon as she completed her profile, her phone beeped and a notification popped up on the screen.

11:17 PM

Jane Rizzoli

You awake?

Clicking her screen off, Maura put her phone on her nightstand and turned over for what would be a very uncomfortable night’s sleep.

[purplesurveys]

1920

When’s the last time you ate bread? I had a Big Mac last night.

What’s the last movie you watched on your own? I don't really do that anymore; I always ask at least one other person to watch with me – usually my sister.

What about the last movie you watched with another person? Ready or Not, with my sister and cousins.

How many coats do you own? Zero. I don't need them + haven't been to a country cold enough to need coats.

What about shoes? I probably have around ten pairs. I say 'probably' because I'm never sure about this and because I only wear the same two, haha.

One word to describe your most recent ex? Narcissistic.

Where, in your current country, would you like to live, other than where you do now? I had a dream a few nights ago that I retired in Bulacan and lived a quiet rest of my life there, with my own tiny home and a garden. I felt oddly at peace when I was dreaming that...I don't know if that's my brain trying to tell me something or if it's just meant to be a random dream. That said, it would be nice, but maybe in another universe.

Do you like snow? I think I would. I've never seen or touched it before.

Do you like sheer clothing? Not a fan.

Have you ever seen anyone famous in the street? I was at the mall the same time as Greyson Chance - that's the most random encounter I've had. Every other celebrity I've crossed paths with was expected since they've all been for work. Just this evening I was part of a courtesy call for one of our Olympian athletes.

Are you hungry right now? Continued from Thursday. I'm actually not, even though it's 3 AM. I had a very heavy dinner that I'm still feeling, lol.

Are you regularly tired? Yeah, pretty much. I have a bad habit of sleeping late even though I constantly need to wake up early for work.

What was the last thing to upset you? Just work stuff as usual...with Trina resigning for good and having no immediate replacement, I no longer have a work superior per se and all the tasks that she would normally have to approve and decide on have fallen on me, even though that crap is way out of my job description. It's all just very overwhelming and I wish people would stop looking to me for solutions because I do not fucking have them.

How’s the weather been today? It rained really hard this morning, then was humid the rest of the day. 

What was the first tattoo you got or what would be the first tattoo you’ll get? Pawprints of all my pets.

What was the last store you went into and did you buy anything? I rarely go into stores because truth be told all I ever spend on are food and my subscriptions haha. If I had to guess, probably a Miniso? Didn't buy anything though.

Have you ever been late for school or work? Last Thursday I set a new record for being irresponsibly late - woke up at 9:56 AM. I still feel gross about it and probably always will. It's a miracle no one had been looking for me.

What is your favorite kind of fruit cobbler? No thanks!

Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for? We do not.

Have you driven a car today? I haven't in two weeks, no :( We're having my car done for a major maintenance thing so I had to let go for it a while. For the most part I've been able to manage but the shitty aftereffect is how much it's been draining my wallet because I've had to Grab everywhere lol.

Do you have a small, medium or large bedroom? I would say it's small, but it does a good job feeling medium since I have a loft bed and I have space everywhere below.

Where was your first job and how old were you? PR associate, I was 22.

Have you eaten soup this week? Nope.

Are you a fan of The Office? Not so much. I started with Season 1 and I didn't hate it, but I also couldn't hold my interest long enough to watch the rest of the eps.

When was the last time you started a new medication? Was never on anything I've had to take regularly.

What is your favorite type of nut? Almond.

Do you know anyone who doesn’t have a middle name? No.

Have you put your phone on silent today? Yes. I cannot stand the stupid Viber notification sound (aka the national messaging platform of PH corporate).

Can you name all 50 US state capital cities? Not at all. I can't even name all 50 states and always forget anywhere between like 8-15.

Do you read John Green novels? I've read a few but I don't follow his works.

Have you ever been to Universal Studios? Yes, the one in Singapore.

Can you tie balloons? Nope.

When was the last time you were at a pet store? I don't enter pet stores.

[fandomwriterstuff]

Traumtänzer (Pt. 2)

Rated T

German Translations:

Mein Gott - My God

Der Herr de Ringe - The Lord of the Rings

Il Principe - The Prince

Part 1

Part 3

“So… He went back in time to meet up with a woman he kissed once and who was happily married with children?” You asked skeptically. That didn’t sound like the Steven you’d known. But then again, you hadn’t known him all that well.

“It’s confusing, but that’s the gist of it,” Sam interjected, taking a sip of his tea. The four of you were getting cozy in your living room, though it was a bit small. Sam and James shared the couch and you and the Baron found yourselves in arm chairs.

“Why are you so willing to stick your neck out for him?” James asked, looking for more information.

“He,” you paused. How much should you say? “He helped me out when I had nothing,” you shrugged and looked down into your empty teacup. Chamomile had always been a favorite of yours.

“That explains why you owe him a favor, but you’re really going out of your way. You know we’re harboring a criminal,” James nodded towards the Baron. You squinted your eyes at him, wondering if he could be trusted.

“He kept my secret… He found out my background and he didn’t turn me over to the authorities or insist I go get tested on,” you could tell you’d piqued their attention with that one. It was true, what you’d been thinking before. You didn’t tell anyone about your background, but Wanda had seen you and told Steven, and he helped you get off the grid. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t,” the Baron finally spoke up. “But we’re not in a place to be helping SHIELD out considering the circumstances, so we have no real reason to turn you over.” You accepted his answer with a frown. It wasn’t a lot but he was right.

“I knew the Maximoffs when they worked for HYDRA because my parents were secretly HYDRA agents,” you looked down into the teacup again, fighting the tensing of your muscles and the urge to run. “They sent me in to be experimented on by the-” You lost the word for scepter. Damn it all. “The thing, you know.” You rolled your eyes and growled, swearing in Sokovian. The Baron smirked at that. “ The scepter, god what’s the fucking word,” you mumbled in Sokovian. You knew James and Sam wouldn’t understand but the Baron was Sokovian and should be helping you out. “ Help a girl out,” you pleaded in Sokovian, and you could tell he was holding back a laugh.

“The scepter?” He added in English.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “They experimented on me with the scepter!” You were so excited to have found the correct word, you didn’t notice the silence or meaningful glances James and Sam sent each other. “So I got some cool powers, they ran a lot of tests, terrible time,” You continued quickly, wanting to get this part over with. “Steven knew this, and helped me get off the grid. I owe him more than a favor, I owe him my freedom, my life,” you said emphatically.

“So you’re HYDRA?” James asked, tensing up. You glared over at him.

“I do not associate myself with Nazis, James,” you were cold, but this was a tough topic. “I was forcibly experimented on for years, and you think I would willingly associate myself with them? You should know better.”

He had the self-awareness to look a little ashamed, though you couldn’t care less. You didn’t need his shame or his pity.

After a brief pause, you sighed. “You can stay here for a little bit. Where are you going next?”

“Madripoor,” the Baron answered smoothly, and you choked on your own spit.

“ Mein Gott,” you mumbled. “Why on Earth would you want to go there?”

“We have business there,” he said, noncommittal. You raised your eyebrows, so it was top secret. Interesting. You stared at each other for a moment, unsure where your next words would lead you. You didn’t want to push too far but your curiosity was burning.

“I suppose I will prepare dinner,” you finally said after losing a staring contest with a criminal.

It was an uneventful night. You prepared food and you all ate in silence. It was only later when you were sitting in the living room reading Der Herr der Ringe that things got weird. James was sharpening a knife while Sam fiddled with some electronics. The Baron was reading your copy of Il Principe quietly.

“ What is your superpower, then? Wanda has her mind tricks and Pietro had his speed,” the Baron was speaking in quiet Sokovian, though he didn’t even glance up from his book. You noticed James side-eye him, but he left it for the moment.

“ I hardly think I should tell you,” you huffed. He raised a single eyebrow, still looking down at the book.

“ Indulge a poor curious man,” he finally looked up and caught you in his gaze. You felt pulled towards him, like his fluent Sokovian was a homing beacon and you just wanted to be near him. It was dangerous, but you hadn’t spoken Sokovian in ages, nobody here knew it and it was becoming a dead language.

“ They called me a dreamwalker,” you whispered in your native language. “ I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you frowned at yourself. You couldn’t trust him. But he was right, who was he going to tell? Alerting the authorities to you would also alert the authorities to him. You kept eye contact with him this time, tilting your head.

“ Tell me, Maus. How does dreamwalking work?”

“ I-”

“English please,” Sam groaned. You pursed your lips and made a quick decision to lie to him. He would have no such issues alerting the authorities. He was an Avenger.

“I was simply telling the Baron about my book. Der Herr der Ringe. The Lord of the Rings,” you replied smoothly.

“What’s so interesting about it?” James asked, this time genuinely curious. Though what was more curious was the small smile the Baron was giving you. You felt your cheeks burn at the attention and tried to hide it by glancing back down at your book.

“It’s the follow on to The Hobbit and follows the third age of Middle Earth,” you began, but James’ jaw had dropped.

“There was a sequel to the Hobbit and you didn’t tell me,” he glared at Sam, who only raised his hands placatingly.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were so into fantasy,” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“It’s actually three books,” you added. “Not just a sequel.”

“Oh man,” James shook his head. “I have been missing out. Is Gandalf still in it?”

You nodded, smiling. The previous topic was forgotten, you started telling him about the movies and how they helped you learn English.

All throughout the evening though, the Baron was glancing at you, trying to figure you out. You were sure he was curious about your powers, though you were sort of afraid to tell him. At the same time… It would be such a relief to talk to somebody about it.

You retired early after setting up the pull out couch and allowing the three men to figure out where they would sleep. They agreed that Sam and James would share the couch and the Baron would take the single bed in the guest room. Their explanation was that they’d be closest to the door if he tried to escape. You couldn’t sleep though, images from your past running through your mind.

It was nearing four when you simply decided to get up, make some tea, grab your book, and return to your room.

However, when you got to the kitchen, the Baron was sitting quietly at the table in the dark sipping on some tea.

“ Good morning,” you whispered in Sokovian, trying not to wake the men in the next room over. The Baron tilted his head towards you and smiled softly, the dark shadowed his face but you could see his features fine. You’d always preferred the night time and the darkness that came with it.

“ Couldn’t sleep? ” He replied in the same language. It must be nice for him to be able to speak it again, just like it was for her.

“ No,” you sighed. “ My mind was racing. And on top of that I’m not used to having guests.”

“You’re uncomfortable being vulnerable around us?” He asked softly, but you shook your head.

“ That’s not it.  I don’t want to accidentally walk into one of your dreams. I’m out of practice.”

He nodded sagely, it would make sense. You seemed like a polite girl and you likely wouldn’t want to intrude.

“ Tea? I made extra,” he gestured towards the teapot where steam was still rising and you smiled, smelling the chamomile.

“ Thank you,” you murmured and poured yourself a cup before sitting down at the table with him. “ You couldn’t sleep either?”

“Too much to do and plan,” he replied with a shrug of one shoulder. “ Will you tell me about your powers?”

You sighed, resigned, and nodded.

“ I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I can walk through dreams and change them. It works for daydreams too, when people are in ‘the zone,’”  you explained. “ Though it’s harder then, when people are awake.”

I can also project my thoughts into other people’s minds you spoke this time directly in his head and his eyebrows shot up.

I haven’t figured out how to read minds per se, but I’m hoping I can learn.

“ Fascinating. Absolutely sensational,” you blinked and blushed at the praise, hoping he wouldn’t notice in the dark room. “ You’re incredible, Maus. Is there anything you can’t do?” He chuckled and you ducked your head, looking up at him through your lashes with a small smile. “ Oh, that’s not all, is it?” He wondered, a slow smile spreading on his face when you nodded your agreement.

“ It’s new… I have only developed it since my time in this flat. But just as I can project my thoughts, I can project my body. Sort of like teleporting,”  you murmured, smiling again when he looked at you, astounded.

“ You truly are wonderful,” he praised you again, this time noting your reaction. You spoke with him for a little while after that about the places you’d teleported to, but you found you’d drifted off when you ‘awoke’ in the dreamscape.

It looked like a forest, this place that your mind conjured. In the forest were many trees and shrubs but also little glimmering puddles. Those were the dreams. You walked as if in a trance, sometimes you had no control in the dreamscape. The puddle nearest to you was dark and murky, you were frightened and your chest tightened up, but you couldn’t hold back as you dipped your toes in and were immersed in the dream.

It was dark. It was always dark at first. But then there was a light and a voice.

You searched and walked around, looking for it, but you regretted entering this… this… this nightmare.

It was James as the Winter Soldier on a dark, cold night. You watched the scene as if in slow motion, and screamed as he killed his friend and his wife.

He jerked back to look at you, noticing you for the first time, and stalked towards you.

“You’re next,” he growled at you, but you scrambled backwards, trying to find your way out of the dream. You tried to conjure something to snap him out of it. You could usually do whatever you wanted, so you changed the scenery. You were on a hot beach, white sand beneath our bare feet, and the Winter Soldier kept stalking towards you.

“Let me out!” you screamed at him. “Let me out!”

You gasped and fell from your chair, and the Baron shot up to catch you.

“ Maus? Are you alright?” his arms were warm around you as you shook off the last of the terror. You were afraid of dying in a dream. You weren’t sure if you’d wake up.

“What the fuck?” James growled from the door frame, rumpled and angry.

“I am sorry,” you choked out. “I did not mean-”

“Stay out of my head,” he cut you off and retreated to the couch, where Sam sat, confused.

“ You might want to stay out of his dreams,” the Baron whispered, arms still caging you in, but you appreciated the strength as tears pricked at your eyes. You hated when people raised their voices.

“ I can’t always control it. I couldn’t get out,” you choked on the words. You huffed a ragged breath and righted yourself, finally pulling away from the Baron. “ I’ll start breakfast,” you mumbled and turned away from him so he couldn’t see the few tears you allowed to fall from fear and apprehension.

Masterlist

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1

Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.

In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.

AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |

CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)

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WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.

Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.

Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.

He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.

When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.

Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.

He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.

-------

Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.

(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)

It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.

“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”

Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.

Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.

Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.

His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.

Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.

Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?

But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.

Danny doesn’t risk it.

(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)

He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.

Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.

Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)

The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.

Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.

His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.

Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.

His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.

-------

Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).

And then—

And then.

Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.

The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.

The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”

Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.

He jerked from her hold.

Burned by it.

“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”

Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”

“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.

(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)

He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.

Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.

The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.

The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.

Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.