#but i just read the new munch update

[cyclopstrait]

You ever love characters so much they make you want to peel your skin off??

[gilverrwrites]

Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.

GN!Reader, ≈200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.🩷

Barbara

The two of you weren’t exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadn’t put a name on it yet. It’s something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.

But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasn’t life-threatening, but you’d been rushed off in an ambulance, you’d need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.

Barbara didn’t know that at the time though, she’d been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.

“Partners and family only.” The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, she’d responded: “I am their partner.”

Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasn’t another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.

Bruce

It’s a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.

All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some ‘private’ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:

Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.

Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruce’s car are now clear.

Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didn’t need to know that you’re actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.

Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadn’t been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time you’d spent together.

Dick

He’s never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your ex’s wedding he’s quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea he’s ever heard, and that he’s 110% on board.

He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruce’s flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and won’t take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, he’s making sure everyone in the vicinity knows you’re a (fake) couple.

It’s during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe it’s the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you don’t want to kiss him, right here, right now.

Duke

It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but you’d argued that “we’ll never know if it might actually work unless we try” and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.

What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and you’d figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?

Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and ‘plan-related’ intimate details about each other. When you weren’t together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.

Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and ‘strictly-business’ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.

Your ex did not. Not that you cared, you’d moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.

Jason

He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. You’d already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.

For a while it’s fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasn’t pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.

He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldn’t let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.

What? You’d promised information, not loyalty.

Kate

You’re both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.

Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.

It’s completely harmless of course, it’s all a joke, until it’s not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.

Tim

He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayne’s second youngest. You hadn’t lied when you’d said yes, you’d just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly.

One minute she’s bragging about her grandchild’s new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next she’s booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.

If you’d known what she was planning you would have confessed, but she’d already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldn’t even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old woman’s stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. You’d promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.

Smile and nod, that’s all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. ‘Perfect grandson-in-law’, your ass.

[chuulyssa]

🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

GOJO SATORU X FEM! READER

PART 12

check out final part here

a/n: Hiiii I'm back with another chapter, only one chapter left till we reach the end if this story. I apologize for the late update, my schedule kinda changed and it got busier so that's why I wasn't able to write and post, but good news that I'm back now yay ✨❤️.

Anyways I hope you enjoy this part as well. Some Angst, so grab some tissues and a snack of course to munch on while reading 😀.

Enjoy your reading session, love y'all so much 🫶🏻

Not Proofread ❌ Slight smut at the end.

You took another glance around the room, but didn't dare to ask any of your students about him. You sighed in disappointment but forced a smile to not worry your students and look suspicious or sad. You hated to admit it even within you, but you wished he was there, holding your hand till you awake. But you woke up surrounded only by your students, it's not like you don't appreciate them or they're not enough, you just wanted another kind of feeling, and that feeling could only be with your husband, Satoru. Once again you felt neglected by him even in this terrible condition.

Megumi was too focused on you, he knew right away by the way your gaze was shifting in every corner, every face in the room that you were looking for Gojo, he knew you needed him.

"Ehm, I'll go get Gojo since you're awake now" he said in a reassuring tone without meeting your gaze, and left the room to look for him.

"Where the hell did he go" he mumbled to himself.

"Hm Megumi? Is Y/n awake?" asked Nanami

"Oh yeah she's awake, and she's fine! By the way, did you, perhaps see Gojo around?"

"He's not here"

"Then where?"

"He'll be here later, don't worry about him"

"Nanami Sensei! I. Need. You. To. Tell. Me. please! It's important " he insisted,

With a tired sigh, he spoke,

"Alright! he's at one of the interrogation rooms at Jujutsu High, probably interrogating Mei Mei-"

"or my father"

and without further words, Megumi headed to Jujutsu High to bring Gojo to the hospital, to bring him to your side.

"Hey Megumi wait" yelled Nanami but je was already gone.

*1st Interrogation Room*

"Happy now? Where's that usual dirty smirk at? Gone?" started Gojo as he looked down at Mei Mei who got both her hands chained to the chair.

"How dare you chain me up? A well respected Jujutsu sorcerer!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Oh no no trust me, after releasing Toji from prison, paying him to kill my wife and putting the Jujutsu community in terrible danger, officially you're no longer respected" he spat and started to walk away

"NO NO PLEASE WAIT! GOJO WAIT I BEG YOU! I did this for you!" she started crying,

"I did this for you Gojo, just for your sake. You know about the prophecy, I couldn't let her exceed you and become stronger than you, you're the strongest Gojo and it should remain that way–please, I wanted to protect you–" she pleaded desperately, tears streaming down her cheeks, each sob echoed in the vast empty room.

With a mocking chuckle, he approached her again and bent down till he met her eye level, tilting his head to the side, his blue eyes piercing through her soul,

"oh yeah?" he started

"Y-es, yes just for you Gojo" she said with a soft smile while sniffing.

"Hah, pathetic how hard you're still trying, how hard you're still trying to manipulate me and get me to believe your lies–lemme give you the real fact behind all of this, the fact is that you desperately wanted Y/n to die. You knew Y/n will become something, more powerful than any of us, and of course your jealousy, ego and hate were triggered because another woman effortlessly stole the show and your desperate ass always wants to be in the spot light, taking all the attention, you've always wanted to br known as the strongest woman sorcerer, the perfect match for me, the strongest man! But all of that collapsed when I married Y/n" he paused and pointed his index finger at her,

"You desperately wanted to be her, you envied her even at her lowest, you're obsessed with her to the point that you betrayed the jujutsu world. But lemme tell you something, Mei Mei, Y/n didn't only steal the spot light, she also stole my heart! I love my wife, I love Y/n so much and if you dare to think of any possible plan that could possibly get you out of prison to hurt my wife again, then I'll end you–" he said calmly in a serious and low tone, moving away from her to open the door and leave.

"–end me? just like you ended Geto?"

she wanted to trigger him, to hit his weakest spot, to make his heart ache like hers and to see him all vulnerable, but he swallowed it, even though the name Geto was killing him and slicing him to pieces for years. His hand clutched the door handle tightly, turning his head, side eyeing her,

"Yes I'll end you just like I ended Geto"

Then he shut the door, leaving her all alone.

Right then, she knew she lost Gojo forever, and her last attempt to convince him by bringing Geto was only another reason for him to hate her even more.

"NO GOJO WAIT, no! don't leave me here! GOJO PLEASE"

She begged and begged, but for nothing he's left already and outside that room her screams are inaudible, no one is able to hear her loud cries, no matter how hard she tries.

..

Gojo reached the other door handle, moving into the next interrogation room,

"Gojo Satoru, we meet again" said Toji with a smirk, his hair falling on his face, his lip bleeding,

"Toji Zenin"

"I go by Fushiguro now"

"And I don't give a fuck, you're a criminal either way"

"Oww, too salty Satoru"

"I don't have time for this kind of chit chat, what was your plan to do to my wife?"

"Kill her obviously, duh!" said Toji rolling his eyes

"You son of a bitch, and you're proud of that, I'm not allowed to kill you, that was the higher ups call so be thankful for that, or else I would have put you through the most terrible death you could possibly think of"

"Are you threatening me? besides it wasn't my plan, it was your side chick's plan"

"The fuck did you say?" said Gojo angrily, taking quick steps to Toji punching him once again, making his nose bleed.

Toji started laughing hysterically,

"Alright you win, you win for the second time Gojo Satoru, but I don't think you won her heart, pity all this effort to save her is for nothing"

"Shut up"

"What? You think now you'll live happy ever after? That you'll start over and become a happy couple? Nah you're egocentric, selfish and fucking arrogant, and you've never known love and never will, I've spent three days with her and I can tell she can't live with someone like you. Both of you are far away from each other, two extremes, too empathetic and too apathetic. She'll leave your ass"

"I SAID SHUT UP" yelled Gojo, once again punching him,

"G-gojo?" said Megumi as he opened the door and witnessed it.

"Megumi?" said Gojo and Toji at the same time,

Megumi looked at Toji with what appeared empty eyes, but in the inside his heart was breaking into pieces.. He shifted his gaze to Gojo,

"Gumi what are you doing here?" asked Satoru

"Came to see you Gojo, you have to go to the hospital Y/n is awake and she was looking for you!!"

"D-did she tell you to l-look for me?" he asked hia heart skipping a beat,

"Nah I just figured out, you better go now"

"Wait aren't you coming with me?"

"No, I have to talk to him"

"Megumi! You know you don't have to stay here, you don't have to talk to him, he'll soon get the punishment he deserves–"

"I know, but he's my father and I need to ask him why!"

"Then I'll stay with you, it's not safe!" he reached to grab Megumi's arm,

"Gojo, please! just go to your wife, she's waiting, don't make her wait any longer! I promise I'll be fine" said Megumi with a smile,

As soon as Gojo left the room, Megumi approached his father standing right in front of him,

"S-son!"

"Why? Why did you do that?" said Megumi in a cold tone,

"Son please!"

"You've almost killed one of my close friends! Y/n is not just a teacher to me, she's my friend as well! and now I can't even look her in the eye, you know why?" he paused, trying to swallow back the lump that formed in his throat making him struggle to talk,

"Because of you! because of the shame I'm feeling whenever I see her or remember that MY FATHER WANTED TO KILL HER JUST TO GET SOME DIRTY MONEY FROM MEI MEI"

"Megumi! you need to listen to me! I had to do that!"

"No, there's no excuse that can get you away for murdering innocent people, first Riko and now attempted to do the same to Y/n just because Mei Mei told you?"

"I did all of this for you, to buy a house, a house that we can all call home! Where we can be a family again, me and you!"

"A family?" said Megumi in a mocking way,

"Yes, we can try again, I can fix everything, and make up for the years that I wasn't by your side–"

"You know what dad!"

"Yes son tell me!"

"I'm glad you left when I was young, I'm glad Gojo raised me and not you, or else I might end up a criminal like you. If my mom was alive she'd be the most disappointed in you, SHE WONT EVEN RECOGNIZE YOU DAD!"

"Megumi don't say please!" said Toji, tears forming in his eyes,

Megumi's words destroyed him because he knows they were true, his wife would be disappointed in him if she was alive.

"You ruined my life dad! Enough of it, stop trying to ruin others' lives just for money, just because you were neglected by the Zenin clan! Don't make others pay for what your clan did to you..." he added, taking steps backwards to leave the room,

"Son wait please! I'm so sorry I caused you all this pain, I'm sorry I wasn't there–"

"Just forget you ever had a son, just like what you did with your humanity....goodbye -dad"

with that he closed the door forever, not only the room's door but the door in his heart that he kept open for his father, wishing that some day, he would repent and fix his mistakes even though he knew deep down they can't be fixed. And now he's finally ready to let go, he can never forgive him for all this mess, for all these mistakes that he willingly committed.

Unable to keep it inside, unable to hide his true, delicate, sensitive self, after maintaining the cold, strong image for too long as a coping mechanism for always feeling inferior than others for being parentless. He finally let out the child thay was kept locked inside, and finally broke down into tears. With each loud sob, his chest rose and heaved with sadness. He cried because of the shame he felt, and because of the fact he's now letting go of his father, once and for all. He cried alone, hugging his knees like a baby, till it became hard to breathe.

..

But was he alone really?

"MEGUMI!!!!"

That voice, the voice that used to annoy him for telling jokes non stop, for laughing really loud and not letting him sleep, that voice now is saving him.

He looked up, his eyes puffy and red with tears.

Yuji and Nobara running towards him, worried expressions drawn on their faces, their eyes wide since it was the first time they see their friend shed a tear. They finally reached him, joining him on the floor.

"Megumi??! what's wrong buddy what happened?" asked Yuji his eyes softening,

"Fushiguro? Is everything okay? Why are you crying did someone hurt you?" asked Nobara her voice shaking with fear and worry.

He just started at them, not saying anything single word. Looking ay their genuine worried and confused faces, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, realizing that his friends got his back, that they won't let him down and most importantly he realized that he doesn't have to feel alone anymore. They truly loved him and cared for him. He was too broken to realize that, he thought his dad abandon him because he hated him, so he grew up with that mindset; his father hates him let alone people out there. But now, finally realizing that love, friendship saved him, from himself, from his dark thoughts and now he can start anew.

Nobara waved her hand on front of his face,

"Hey Fushiguro??"

Without saying anything he hugged both of them, finally feeling the love he's been rejecting. Allowing himself to feel it for the first time and damn it felt good to have someone care for you, it made his heart at ease.

He hugged them really tight, refusing to let go, without hesitation they hugged him back in a comforting way, their warmth radiating.

"Awww Fushiguro-Kun is being soft" chuckled Nobara

"Shuh Nobara, we love this version of Megumi, geez didn't know you're a good hugger Fushiguro" said Yuji smiling,

"Aaaaa why'd you ruin the moment guys" groaned Megumi

"Nah nah we're sorry, we're just wondering where's the real Megumi and what did you do to him" she added,

"Nah it's the real Megumi here, you just unlocked a premium version. Get used to it" said Megumi pulling away from the hug a smile still decorating his face.

"Well for sure we'll get used to it" said Yuji and Nobara at the same time.

"Wait!! did you leave Y/n alone at the hospital, till Gojo arrives?" said Megumi in a moment of realization.

"Nah nah she's home now, we brought her at the dorms" explained Yuji

"Oh shit"

"What?"

"Gojo went to the hospital to see Y/n, so he won't find her there"

"Come on, he's a married man, his wife would tell him" said Nobara smirking

"Wasn't she supposed to spend the day there, till Shoko makes sure she's fine?" he asked again,

"Yeah but after you left the room to get Gojo she insisted to leave as well, she said she was feeling okay and doesn't need to stay there" exclaimed Nobara.

*At The Hospital*

Gojo pushed open the door of the room that you were in. A mix of anticipation and stress took over him, not knowing how he would behave in front of you, is he gonna hold your hand, kiss you? What was he going to say? Baby? My love? I missed you? All these thoughts disappeared when he found the room empty, devoid of your presence. Confusion clouded his features as he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the surroundings, trying to find any of your belongings, but there was absolutely nothing. Anxiety took over him, his heart racing inside his chest. He got really scared, thinking that someone abducted you, still terrified from the last incident that happened to you. With shaky hands he reached his phone to call one of his students, but before he can do he received a message from Nanami informing him that they moved you out of the hospital and took you to the dorms to rest there.

He let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding, calming down slowly.

With a heavy sigh, he sank onto the edge of the bed, blaming himself for not being there when you woke up.

*Flashback*

You laid unconscious on the hospital bed after being treated by Shoko. No one was there except Gojo. He held your hand tightly, staring at your soft features as you were in your pretty slumber.

"I'm here Y/n, my beautiful wife, my princess" he whispered to you as you slept.

"I'm sorry, please wake up..wake up so I can tell you how much I love you, how bad I want to make you mine, how I want to fix things and start anew with you as a true husband, a husband that will love you, care for you and protect you, I won't let anyone hurt you.." he paused, remembering the state he found you in, on the floor, bloody nose, shirt almost torn off, his body tensed up.

"I'll punish them for what they had done to you" he added and left the room heading to the interrogation rooms at Jujutsu High.

*End of flash back*

*Time skip, night time*

Your students and Nanami already brought you everything you might need; food, water, some snacks and some manga books that Yuji gave to you to pass time.

You laid your back on the bed frame, grabbed a bag of chips, a manga book and started reading enjoying your own company, trying your best to distract yourself from thinking about Satoru.

Engrossed in the pages of your book and in your own world, the soft rustle of the door opening brought you back to reality. You already knew who it was, it was your husband Satoru. Even though, you were distant from each other, you got used to his footsteps. He closed the door behind and greeted you gently,

"Hii Y/n"

However, you remained absorbed in your reading, refusing to look up at him or even greet him back. He thought you were too focused on the book and didn't notice him arriving so he cleared his throat, attempting to get your attention this time and said,

"A-are you feeling better now? How's your leg?"

But again you remained silent, as if he wasn't in the room, as if his voice was inaudible to you. He received the message and realized that you don't wanna talk to him, and he respected your decision, he chose to not push too far especially that you're still traumatized from what happened to you.

With a resigned sigh, he took some clean clothes from the dresser, and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower that might wash the tiredness away. The sound of the running warm water that fell on his body mingled with the quiet of the room, a gentle reminder of the distance between you and him.

You put the book on your nightstand, and shut your eyes, you tried to go to sleep before he joins you again, you've already took your decision, you'll ignore him, you'll distance yourself even more, you won't let him pity you and help you because he feels sorry for what had happened to you. You refused to be the victim, you won't allow anyone to feel bad for you.

...

Opening the door again, he found you fast asleep, hugging your pillow for comfort. He smiled to himself as he saw your sleeping face.

He missed being in your presence, even if you were only sleeping. He dried his hair and then gently approached the bed, already dressed in his pajamas. The mattress sank as he joined you, getting under the covers. He used his elbow to keep himself up a bit while he watched you sleep. Your pouty lips that he craves to kiss, your soft skin that he wants to caress, your chest that rose and fell with each breath. It was the small details that made him fall for you, that made you so special. He was watching and watching till your comfy sight lulled him to sleep, and now he joined you, his head next to yours, his arms fell on your waist as he spooned you. Finally both of you not only sleeping under the same roof again all safe and sound, but being this close to each other.

.....

You woke up in the morning to him all over you, his arm laid comfortably on top of you. You rubbed your eyes, thinking it was a dream but it was reality. As much as it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, it made you feel sad as well. And the small smile that instinctively formed on your lips, disappeared.

"Maybe he just rolled over" you said to yourself, still convinced that whatever he was doing was everything and anything but love.

You pushed his hand away, getting ready to get breakfast with the rest of teachers and students as well. You missed those mornings, with Nobara talking nonstop, Panda eating everything on the table and Nanami annoyed whenever principal Yaga announced a new mission. You felt like family, you felt included but it's always something missing, the true love, the love of your husband.

It is indeed hard to live a one sided love story, realizing your feelings towards Gojo were more of a problem than a realization, maybe it could have been a lot easier if they remained undiscovered, because starting from today you'll live with the fact that your husband that you fell head over heels with doesn't reciprocate your feelings, at least that's what your mind told you.

The mind works in mysterious ways, sometimes when you're used to some kind of feeling, it becomes like a drug, so when you experience another feeling you always find a way to include that specific feeling again. And that's the case for you, you've been feeling lonely and unloved your whole life, and you thought you'd be feeling that way for the rest of your life not even giving yourself a chance to ask if he feels the same.

...

You walked towards the table, the food was ready, the scent of coffee was intoxicating. Your students already there, excited for food like every single morning.

"OH Y/N - SENSEI GOOD MORNING" said Yuji excitedly,

"Good morning Sensei" said the other students in union with a big smile.

You nodded smiling at their morning energy that was circulating in the air,

"Good morning everyone"

Nanami and Shoko joined, followed by Principal Yaga and then Gojo who came running and out of breath looking for you, but then letting a deep sigh once he saw you sitting around the table safe and happy. It became his new freshly unlocked fear; you not being by his side.

"Oh you're here" he mumbled,

"Huh Gojo what's up with that face? did you see a ghost?" said Principal Yaga

"I'm fine" he shrugged and then joined you, sitting on the chair that was right next to you.

He gazed at you, clearing his throat,

"You woke up early today, I thought about bringing you food to bed so you don't have to tire yourself" he started almost whispering.

You shoved the spoon full of rice in your mouth, not bothering to look at him. The others exchanged gazes but started eating shortly, not wanting to get into your business. Gojo started eating as well thinking about ways to approach you or find a key to start even a small conversation and get you to talk to him.

"So Y/n are you feeling better?" asked Nanami

"Yeah much better actually, thank you Nanami!" you smiled,

And Gojo felt his heart crash, as if he received a stab right in the chest. He wished it was him you were smiling at.

"Yuji can you pass me the salt please?" you said gently,

but before Yuji could reach it, Gojo already snatched it from in front of him and gave it to you,

"Here!" he said with a silly smile,

You poked the inside of your cheek and took the salt from him not even looking at him.

"Um Y/n–" started Satoru but you cut him off by starting a conversation with Yaga sensei.

"By the way Sensei, I feel like I'm ready to start teaching again–"

"WHAT NO!" yelled Satoru

You raised your eyebrow,

"You need to rest Y/n, you've been through a lot" he added worriedly.

But you ignored his concern and his comment and shifted your gaze to Principal Yaga again,

"My students must be missing my classes"

"But y/n Gojo is right! You need to rest! it's been only one day" exclaimed Principal Yaga

"I'm feeling okay!" you said smiling.

"Alright then, do as you please but don't tire yourself, okay?" said Yaga sensei with a smile

You nodded smiling.

"Y/n please, you've been through a traumatic experience, this phase is the hardest even if you're not realizing it" said Gojo with worried eyes.

But you ignored him again, getting up from the table, wiping your mouth with a napkin heading to your room to get ready for a day full of teaching.

......

It was a long day full of laugher with your students, they did everything they could to make sure you were comfortable and happy. Especially Yuji he acted extra silly to get you to laugh uncontrollably. They wanted to help you forget about the terrifying experience as soon as possible.

You were in the balcony at night, enjoying the night sky, getting back to your favorite night activity, watching the stars. It always put a smile on your face. It reminded you of how vast our universe is and how small our problems seem in front of it.

"sensei?"

You looked back,

"hm Megumi? are you okay?"

"Yeah! is it okay if w-we talk a bit?"

"Sure Gumi, tell me!" you replied with a soft grin, now giving him your full attention, anticipating his words

"I–I w-wanted to apologize!" he said looking down at his feet unable to meet your gaze

"Hm? for what?"

"I - I'm sorry sensei, I'm ashamed of what my father did to you, he doesn't represent me, I'm not like him and I completely oppose it, always been I–" he said nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

"Megumi" you started, placing your hands on his shoulders,

"I know who you are! I know how kind, caring and loving you are! You don't need to apologize, you don't need to explain anything. It's not your fault that your dad chose the wrong path, so don't ever blame yourself! Stand proud Megumi! You are an amazing student, an amazing person and an amazing friend of mine" you insisted giving him a light squeeze.

"Really?"

"Yes you are! Don't ever doubt yourself! come here" you added and pulled him into a warm hug.

.........

*2 days later*

"Yaga sensei, since Toji is in prison now what about Y/n and I go back to our house?" suggested Gojo.

"Huh? Why the rush you don't like it here?"

"No it's not like that, it's just since our marriage we had to live here so it would be nice to go back to our own house"

"I like it here" you said out of the blue, showing that you refuse to live with him in a vast house alone.

"But y/n, our house is big, you'll feel more comfortable there, our room is waiting for you–"

"Oh Yaga sensei I thought about making a writing test as well not only a practical one" you said cutting Satoru off, as if his words didn't matter.

Starting a new conversation, totally neglecting him. Everyone around the table noticed it but have no right to interfere. Your inside was screaming, wanting to give in and move back to your house again where you can live only you and your husband, enjoy each other's company and privacy but it was complicated, life is not a movie scene and you can't wipe away the bad memories easily.

*Time skip*

You were in the balcony, waiting for the sunset. You've been lying to yourself, thinking that teaching again and distracting yourself with some jokes would make you forget about the hell Toji and Mei Mei put you through. You were already suffering from anxiety and this incident made it worse. You were getting a good night sleep just because you were using the pills that Shoko gave to you or else you'll wake up screaming from your night terrors, from the trauma you had lived. You started getting random panic attacks whenever you were alone, your hands would get all sweaty and start shaking, cold sweat dripping from your forehead and you felt like being choked.

Maybe it would have been easier if you told them what you truly felt and not pretending to be okay. Maybe it would have been a lot easier if you confessed your true feelings to Satoru even if he rejects you.

A tear rolled down your cheek, knowing that it got worse and that Gojo did a mistake by saving you. Maybe the world would be a better place without you. You felt useless and a heavier burden now, going back to teaching to prove yourself useful in something, only to find your students pitying you and trying to help you instead of you helping them. With a deep breath, lost in your thoughts, you came to a conclusion, that leaving is the best option. It's been weeks and your curse didn't break, and you've already lost faith that it would break, and you can't live on false hope that one day you'll become a sorcerer and make your family proud. You feel like your husband that was forced to marry you, is now forced to take care of you and treat you differently because you were the unlucky one to get kidnapped by one the most dangerous murderers. Your family won't accept you or treat you fairly as long as you remain a monkey with no curse energy.

"It's all related" you chuckled to yourself,

You checked your phone, and credit card, already clothed in your jacket to protect you from the cold.

You took a moment to watch the sunset first, it was mesmerizing, the color degradation representing different phases.

"Sunsets are a living proof that endings can be beautiful too" you said to yourself.

You started walking away, leaving Jujutsu High behind, not knowing where your legs would take you but at least you know you'll be safe, Mei Mei and Toji are in prison now. You just wanted to get far away from everyone, you knew you didn't fit anywhere, you don't belong anywhere. So maybe you'll start as a normal simple human, with a normal simple job. It broke you to run away from them, you considered them a family and you knew you'll carry all those beautiful memories with you whenever you go, but what broke you the most, is leaving Gojo without a proper goodbye, but for your self-respect you chose not to give him another reason to feel sorry for you.

*Time skip*

"SENSEI! SENSEI HAVE YOU SEEN Y/N?" asked Gojo as he rushed downstairs after asking literally everyone and they said no.

"No!"

Panic coursed through his veins,

"Sensei what if someone abducted her again?"

"Relax Gojo, she's not a kid I'm sure she's safe, Toji is imprisoned so is Mei Mei, I'm sure she just went for a night stroll"

Gojo looked at him in disbelief, and left Jujutsu High and start searching for you, maybe he's being paranoid now and scared by the slightest thing but he can't afford to lose you, not again.

...

He searched everywhere, anywhere possible, he even went to Mei Mei's house to make sure you weren't there even though he knows damn well that both of them are paying for their mistakes. He check every corner, every street, every alley but you're nowhere to be found.

He started sweating, his heart hammering against his ribcage, feeling the sky narrowing around him and suffocating him.

"Where are you y/n, please!" he said to himself.

He paused when a thought crossed his mind, he knows you're a space enthusiast. You enjoy watching the clear night sky and chase the stars, but to do so you need an excluded area, away from Tokyo lights. A hill 2 hours away from Jujutsu High, but it's Satoru, he doesn't need 2 hours to reach that hill in a matter of seconds he found himself there.

It was dark, but he could see a figure standing, head's up to the sky. The city light bellow on full display. He knew right away that it was you. He wanted to announce his presence to not scare you, so with a soft voice he spoke,

"y/n?"

Yoh turned around, looking at him in disbelief. Without saying anything you started to walk away but he rushed towards you and grabbed your arm,

"Wait y/n please talk to me!"

"Satoru leave me alone"

"No! no I'm not leaving you alone, not this time! Why are you ignoring me? Why are you being being so cold towards me? I understand it was my fault and I'm so fucking sorry about it but please talk to me–"

"Satoru! For god's sake, let me go, let me live, let me try a new start away from all of this"

"Why? you can start anew here? with us! with me!"

"No you don't understand! I don't belong to your world, I don't belong here! I'm sick of it" you explained a tear fell down,

"You belong with me y/n, please let me help you"

"I don't fucking need your help, I don't need anyone's fucking help, I'm tired of being the one in need, I'm tired of being the one who needs to be saved. Because no one of you will, and because it's so fucking degrading, I'm sick of myself, sick of not being able to protect myself-"

"Y/n you're not realizing your potential, please don't rush things!"

"Don't rush things? It's been weeks Satoru and nothing worked, I can't let you go through this, you deserve to be with someone like you, you deserve to be with someone strong, a sorcerer not a talentless human. It's over okay!! I was ready to send you the divorce papers so you don't need worry about anything, I'm no longer a burden, and you won't take my responsibility, I know you're sick of me and of all this prophecy shit" you paused,

looking straight into his blue eyes, if you could trade the night sky for his eyes then you would, you would choose to look deep into those blue canvas. You wanted to take into his face, to stare longer memorizing his features so they take a longer time to fade from your memory.

"Rejoice Satoru, you're free!" you said and freed yourself from his grasp, walking away,

His heart beats escalated, watching you walk away. No it can't be, you can't leave him, not when he realized that he couldn't breathe without you, not when he realized he can't sleep without your scent in the room.

"No, you can't leave me"

He grabbed you again, pulling you against him,

"I can Satoru, that's what you fucking wanted so don't act like you don't want it"

"I'm not acting, I don't want you to leave"

"Why? So you can feel less guilty by making it up for me even if you don't want it?"

"NO!"

"Then fucking why?"

"BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU!"

A moment of silence fell over the place, looking into each other's eyes, only your heavy breathing is being heard,

"I love you y/n, I love you so fucking much that I can't take it anymore, I love you that the only thing I can focus on is you, I lOVE YOU THAT I WOULD GIVE UP HEAVEN IF IT MEANS I GET TO BE WITH YOU, BECAUSE YOU'RE MY HEAVEN Y/N, YOU'RE MY BLESSING. I WAS YOUR CURSE AND I HATE MYSELF FOR THAT, BUT LOVE, LOVE MADE ME A FOOL, A FOOL FOR YOU"

You didn't say a word, you were too shocked, words still processing in your mind. You froze, trying to figure out if it was a dream or a reality. But when he crashed his lips on yours, you knew it was real, by the way his soft plump lips felt on yours. His big hands grabbing your waist pulling you towards his body that was screaming, yelling for you, for your touch. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation, a sensation you dreamt of for many nights, and days. Daydreaming, wondering how his lips would taste.

Instinctively your hands moved around his neck, pulling him closer. Your breath mixing, breathing each other in and out. Kissing each other so passionately as if your lives depend on it as if the world stops rotating, the clock stops ticking, and humans stops breathing. Only you and him in a vast world.

He pulled away, intoxicated by your taste, his eyes full of love and lust at the same time, growing impatient as the seconds passed by, the he spoke with a foggy voice,

"Let's go to our house, our home, tonight I'll make you mine and you'll make me yours.. let me do your duty as your husband, allow me to get a taste of you and get a taste of me"

Your chest rose and fell, feeling the electricity run in your system, turning you on even more.

"mhm" you nodded, you'd follow him everywhere even to your decease.

You were ready to finally give yourself to him, to allow him to do as he pleases to you and you do as you please to him. Finally, a few moments till you become a real husband and wife, a few moments till you taste heaven.

Taglist ˖⁠♡:

@smolbeanzzz @khaleesihavilliard @tqd4455 @black-swan-blog27 @certainduckanchor @haitanibros0007 @goldenjoyboyy @lorako123 @kunikuzushisbeloved @saiyara05 @numblytemporary @soulofendlessbook @bookswillfindyouaway @sukunasleftkneecap @ryumurin @twitabread @f1uveryysblog @sleepyyammy @animechick555 @allofffmypeaches @inlovewithlondonn @tw0fvced @markleeisdabestdrug @blvckxb3vutii @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostfacefricker6969

@janrcrosssing @lunaoyabun

@realveryreal5875

@nikkimvriee

@butterskyy

@shervinss

@eolivy

@caycaysblogg

@myloveforharrystylesneverenough

@sanriosatoru

@oinixd @luna-lunique

@ioriorigami

@kiki17483

@maskedpacific

@iantheandmargaux

@ssetsuka

@sm3156

@hermitkerm

@itzmartuuwu

@thoughfullovercreator

@cre8inghavoc

@olivianyx

[qvnthesia]

Another You (.02)

an anakin skywalker/jedi consular!reader fic set during the clone wars

the pitch: best friends with anakin since he had joined the jedi order, you hadn’t expected to catch feelings for him, not that hard, at least. his intentions were clear — his heart already enraptured by the nubian senator, leaving you to ruminate about the prospect of letting go of not just him, but maybe everything. until another anakin shows up, and your — your universe’s anakin starts behaving strangely.

A/N: happy birthday, @kaizsche! i hope you enjoy this update!! a note to all readers — there’s no y/n here, the reader’s nickname for the fic is sky. happy reading!

part two— you're not helping.

word count: 7,042

part one | two (here) | ....

Simply put, Aayla Secura was enjoying this. Restraining herself with absolute failure from bursting into fits of laughter, Aayla watched as even the most experienced of Jedi masters drop their caf or just stare with their jaws dropped, t h u n d e r s t r u c k, at Anakin and his double — the long-haired Anakin — walking side-by-side with Master Kenobi being the only one who separated Anakin from thoroughly sizing up his copy, who simply viewed his new-found sights with a twinkling gaze and an even more unbothered attitude.

“Is it just me—” Aayla leans next to your figure, her eyes fixated on the live footage from the Jedi Temple’s security feed. “—or is our new guest having a wind machine around him? Because you humans could take some hair care tips from him.”

You scowl, elbows propped up on the desk, as you watch the footage behind your intertwined fingers held together as tightly as your frown.

“Relax, Sky,” Aayla props an elbow on your stiff shoulder, “He gives off a good vibe. And plus, he’s definitely more attractive than—”

“Aayla!”

The agile Twi’lek proves herself as one of the best the Jedi Order has to offer as she flicks on the live footage faster than your attempts to take it away from her.

“Mon amie, this is literally out of a holo drama!” she giggles, switching off the footage under your sharp gaze. “It’s a sign from the Force itself to take your leap and get your man, or in this case, one version of the man!”

“Aayla, he belongs to another universe—”

“And you’re saying you haven’t been attracted to him?”

You freeze, and Aayla smiles.

Twi’leks weren’t humans, but were sure as hell kriffing good with their senses, so Aayla knew you were lying, and how much she was going to enjoy the day ahead.

Maker, why did I go for this job?

You silenced your mind — there’s a member of the kriffing Jedi Council in the same room as you and you’d feel much more comfortable knowing Master Kenobi had a visual on his enemies rather than the six hundred scenarios of you and Anakin in your mind.

Instead, you focused on your datapad, tapping on six different squares as Anakin answered your questions.

“—Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. Commanding officer of the Five Hundred and First Legion—”

“Currently on leave,” Master Kenobi remarked, stroking his beard.

“Yeah, but still, Obi-Wan, come on—”

“You’re really Anakin?”

You perked up at Ahsoka’s voice, who munched on a ronto wrap while perched on one of the desks.

“Yes,” the long-haired Anakin hummed. You’ve lost count at how many times Ahsoka has asked the question, and you’re pretty sure Master Kenobi, Rex and Cody have the same question swimming their head since yesterday. It’s only the constant patience that has persevered through the Order’s new guest that sets a guilty fire ablaze within your body — and it’s definitely from the way his voice never even fluctuates, just stays the smooth baritone, lower than the usual. It’s the same tone that your Anakin’s voice always has when he woke up to you working again late in the night, or he just strolled into your quarters wearing nothing but shorts and pressed himself against your back, his toned frame somehow slotting perfectly against your edges.

“But…” she tilted her head, her lekku twitching. “You look so mature.”

“Snips!” barked Anakin, shooting a sharp scowl toward Master Kenobi’s hacking laughter. Ahsoka shrugged, stuffing herself with more of her ronto wrap. Anakin’s long-haired copy softly pressed his twitching lips together. He caught your lingering gaze, and spread his lips into a smile, one that crinkled the edges of his twinkling eyes.

“How long is this going to take again?”

You snapped to a stiff, attentive posture as Anakin cleared his throat.

Master Kenobi sighed again. “Anakin, you must be patient—”

“—farmboy here smells like weed—”

“Anakin!”

“He’s not wrong.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi’s bickering ceases.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, and you internally slap yourself for suddenly becoming his center of attention. Not such a bad idea, but then—

“Are you…” Master Kenobi finds his voice again, bringing you back to the room again. “Are you not a Jedi, Anakin?”

There’s a slight crack in Master Kenobi’s voice, one that propels Ahsoka to stand next to him. The long-haired Anakin surveys the both of them, eyes softly squinted deep in thought, possibly pondering on how to break this brand new piece of information to a suddenly very fragile-looking old man and a dispirited young teenager.

The long-haired Anakin exhales. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. I left the Jedi Order after I turned nineteen, and I’m a farmer—well, part-time mechanic, on Naboo.”

Your eyes widen, exchanging a surprised glance with Aayla.

“Master Kenobi, are you sure none of us are high?”

“Padawan,” chastised the Jedi, his shock secured tightly behind his shields. “I apologise, Anakin—I mean—”

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan.”

The long-haired Anakin waved his hands, and Obi-Wan visibly stiffens at the use of his name by a version of Anakin he should know but he doesn’t.

“You did train me, but I…” he scratched the back of his head, showing all teeth with a gentle, sheepish smile. “Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

You swore he looked at you; you were always looking at Anakin for some maker-forsaken reason or the other.

“And the war?”

Anakin turns to Cody and Rex, their military etiquette all thrown out the window.

“What war?”

The floor practically shifts with a lurch from the Force.

“You… you don’t have a war? The Clone Wars?”

He turns to you, and the world melts away as you look up at him, datapad clutched to your chest as a shield from him and from your simmering desperation.

The long-haired Anakin — you should definitely give him a name aside from his long hair — has a piercing gaze, one your Anakin looked at you everytime you looked up at him, your chin pressed to his chest, his arms around your waist as his nose crinkled with every laugh shared between you two about the stupidity of the Separtists’ battle droids.

“From all that I’ve been privy to," he swallows, his sharp apple jutting out even more prominently that it did. “The galaxy isn’t having the, uh, Clone Wars. We do have clones, but they work with the Jedi and provide humanitarian aid.”

“Captain Rex and Commander Cody work under Obi-Wan, who took on a young Togruta as his new padawan after I left,” he turns once again to Ahsoka, smiling. “I’m not General Skywalker, I’m just… Anakin.”

You blink, unable to process him. A part of you pushes that there’s a complete liar standing before you, a shapeshifter sent here to trick the Republic and distract the Consular who’s coincidentally working to counter their latest planet-killing superweapon. But the Anakin before you is as real as yours. He’s had a different life that you can’t help but wonder if you’re there—

“Hypothetically speaking—” coughs Rex. “Can I sign up for multiversal travel?”

“Rex!”

“I don’t like this.”

“More than sand?”

Anakin rolls his eyes at Padmé, who gives him a laugh as she continues to type her latest proposal behind her desk.

His lithe legs propped upon the corner of her desk, Anakin crosses his arms together, replaying the exact moment where he felt your Force signature spring alive when his double looked at you.

He’d never elicited a similar reaction from you when he was there. All those moments holding you close, regaling you in his tales until you succumbed to sleep, feeling your heart against his and wishing it were just like this for eternity. It was torture having to stay away from you, to be called time and again to this siege and that battle when all he wanted was to wake up next to you and live the life that other people did when they loved each other in a way he had loved you since the two of you were sixteen.

He even felt embarrassed to voice this in front of the Chancellor, who had suspiciously kept on pestering him to great lengths to enquire about the reason for his distraction. Clearly, he’d been sloppy — even Obi-Wan had managed to pick up his emotions in the heat of the battle. He’d decided to stay away from the Temple, show his ‘interest’ in politics so that such a slip wouldn’t occur again though, that your position as a Jedi wouldn’t be compromised by his misery. Though, he thinks to himself, the emergence of his double from another dimension spelled trouble for him in both Basic and Huttese.

Damn father, he grumbled to himself.

“If you keep having that stupid, angry look on your face, I’m afraid Sabé would be more than happy to throw you out of my office.”

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he stood up from his seat, pacing. “She likes him more! That peaceful, farming version of me over… me.”

Padmé turned her attention away from the blue screen, sincere pity softly twisting her lips.

“And you’re here, out of all places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m just saying,” she shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It’s a sign.”

Anakin hesitated, his stomach roiling with anxiety.

“Are you sure I should—?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Anakin laughs. Hope blooming bright in his chest, he gives his childhood friend a grateful nod, and races out of the office.

Having receiving enough complaints about ‘seeing double’ of a certain Anakin Skywalker, Master Yoda explicitly commanded you to serve as the long-haired Anakin’s tour guide for the day, remarking a day away from the Temple ought to make him comfortable in his new universe — and reduce Master Windu’s migraines. Since you concomittantly had to visit the Senate Archives for business, you decided your new guest would accompany you to the prompt excursion to the laughing stock that was the Galaxy’s governing body.

Both of you had been loaned a speeder by the Jedi Council, to which the long-haired Anakin simply pointed a slender finger to a sleek, open-roofed speeder glinting under the spotlight of Coruscant’s artificial weather.

"That looks better, wouldn’t you think?” he grinned.

Maker, let the Force lend its might to you today to calm your fluttering heart. He wasn’t just glowing with happiness, you knew very well he was playing with you, and you’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t a good look on him.

So, with a begrudging sigh, you agreed, and headed straight for Dex’s Diner — an establishment he seemed quite familiar with.

“Ani!” Dex roared proudly, sweeping you and him in a hug before you even had a chance to look around for empty seats. “Look at how you’ve grown,” he said appraisingly as he drew back, “And what’s with the hair, eh? All dressed up for a date?”

“This—no—” you fervently shook your head, cheeks ablaze. “No, this isn’t a date—”

You glared pointedly at the long-haired Anakin — Ani — who softly cocked his brow. He seemed to decide with himself for a moment, and then spread his lips in a cocksure grin, the exact same your Anakin had in those holo-videos labelled ‘Hero with No Fear’ racking up views all over the galaxy.

“Last time I remember—”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you next to his toned frame.

“—I did get a yes.”

“That was fun.”

Your disagreements lose to the quick beat of your heart, and you stab the scoopful of ice cream in your hands as you walk through the senate hallways. Leaving aside the fact that the trip to the archives was a monumental failure as you’d expected, you’d come as close as falling to the dark side to melt into a pool of a miserable puddle of your love and embarrassment.

“You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at him, realising the two of you have come to a stop in the middle of your footsteps.

“Whatever the enemy is planning, I’m sure you’ll foil their plans. I know it.”

He smiles, licking the ice cream off the corner of his lips and jutting the spoon in the air as if it were his lightsaber.

The confidence in his voice makes you wonder if he knew you. Not you, but a version of you in his universe.

What were you to this version of Anakin? Were you what Anakin was in your universe? The ‘Heroine with No Fear,’ or ‘The Jedi with No Fear,’ even if there was no war in his galaxy. Were you an acclaimed Jedi or a nobody from the backwater planet you belonged to?

Were you even someone he liked? With the manner you currently struggled to contain the depth of admiration you harboured for your Anakin, being lovers seemed out of the question. Were you at least his friend? Or, you gulped to yourself as your heart sunk low, were you dead?

“Consular Jedi.”

Your voice perked up at the entourage making way towards you, led by—

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

You offered the old man a short bow, which he returned to you with an amicable smile. His eyes roved over—

“Anakin, my dear boy,” his visage extended over to Ani; he let out a chuckle. “I must have caught you by surprise, son.”

You looked over to Ani, who had dropped his ice cream and the little wooden spoon on the floor, the hem of the Chancellor’s robes trailing with tiny chocolate chips.

He looked like a deer caught in the spotlight, except only a fool would describe him as a prey. No, he looked like the commander that Anakin always had been — alert, sharp, observant, and most of all, protective of his loved ones and his duty.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

The Chancellor’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you cleared your throat, wrapping your arm around Ani’s right one, shielding it entirely by your billowing robes.

“We were just coming back from the archives, Chancellor,” you cleared your throat. Feeling Ani tighten his grip around your arm, you continued. “Anakin thought to offer an extra set of hands in my search for a solution to the Separatists’ rumoured advantage.”

“Ah, of course,” the man nodded, interwining his bony fingers one over the other hand. “I must not hinder you, I suppose—Anakin, my boy, do come for a visit, will you? You seem to be avoiding me, though I now understand why.”

He shot a fatherly wink at Ani, who only seemed to stiffen even further, his arms balling into tight, iron-rod fists.

“Of course,” Ani found his voice, steel replacing his usual gentleness. “It was lovely meeting you but I’m afraid we must be on our way—”

Before you could even hear the old man’s professional toodle-oo, Ani simply tugged you by your arm and walked past the entourage, his long strides taking you to the far end of the Senate’s circular hallways within a blink of your eye. Reaching a destination guarateeing privacy, he looked around.

“Anakin, what—WHOA!”

You let out a grunt as your back slammed against the durasteel walls. He looks down at you, an apology flashing in his eyes, but the steel in his voice stops your protests.

“What the kark is that man doing here?”

Your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead, “What?”

You look at him through the Force; his sun is now an eclipse, shadowed by the foreboding storm and thunder.

“Anakin,” you gulp softly, gathering your courage, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor, what—what are you—”

You pause, your mind backpedalling to the events in your office.

“Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

He shifts in his feet just as your eyes widen.

“Sky.”

His arms wrap around your trembling figure, but you never leave his gaze.

“Sky, listen to me, it’s okay—”

“Why…” you cut in, failing to sound calm. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“Because I fulfilled my destiny.”

The storm within him dissolves with a wave of the seas within him. Your glare demands answers; his chest puts strain on the fibres of his beige shirt as he exhales sharply.

"I discovered the Sith that had been plaguing the Jedi and the Republic. It was…”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, the corners of his lips downturned.

“It was so ingenious, the way he had been doing it. Getting close to me ever since I was a child, preying on my fears, my insecurities. Deluding me into thinking I was going to be alone forever simply because I was different than the others, that I was born of no father and only a loving mother, that I was a child of the Force itself and as such, the Jedi viewed me as a threat.”

“But what he hadn’t seen coming, what even I hadn’t expected to gain was that I began to have people on my side. People who trained me and taught me that the Dark is never the option to take, because it takes and it takes from you and leaves you wanting more, it leaves you empty, as a shell of who you were. It leaves you alone and no one to go to. And I had people… people who pulled me back—”

He meets your gaze, blown open and vulnerable.

“—people who made me see reason, that my mind was being tipped in a direction that was not of my own making, but of the Sith who I had allowed to poison my mind since I was a child. Sky…”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“I am the Chosen One just as your Anakin is. And I did it. I fulfilled my destiny and stopped the return of the Sith.”

Ani holds your hands, pressing your palm to his chest. A tremor passes through your body, and he steadies your figure, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Please, you must believe me. I can sense you care deeply for my variant in this universe, and he is in grave danger, Sky.”

Your mind flashes back to one of Master Yoda’s classes, where he had droned in his wise way how the Force made itself known to warn its believers that life itself was in grave danger; it was a warning, a shadow, an event, something or the other that shook the defenders into of their senses and prompted them to act for the betterment of the survival of the Galaxy — and for your own good.

You had felt the Force the first time when Master Windu had arrived to your village years ago, offering his hand to enter the world of the Jedi. The Force had given a warm nudge for you to take his hand and take the chance; you had taken it.

You had felt the Force the second time when you met Anakin Skywalker, nine years old, young and shy, and terribly homesick for the embrace of his mother’s arms. The Force had giggled, and you had decided, fate or not, that you would bring a smile to his forlorn face.

You had felt the Force the third time when you were on Geonosis, standing the arena with your master, saber ignited as Anakin let out a joyous cheer, joining you back-to-back as you both tore through droid after droid in the relentless carnage. The Force, triumphant, had melded the two of you as one machine, as one competently-built Corellian freighter tearing apart the enemy.

The present moment is when you feel the Force again, screaming. You see death and blood, corpses of younglings and clone soldiers strewn on the floors of the Jedi Temple. But Anakin’s there, and you see hope, you see a future with laughing children and the galaxy, alive than you’ve ever felt it to be.

The Force holds its breath, and despite what the Jedi Code said, you’ve never chosen to ignore life.

You steel yourself and look up at him, determined.

“I believe you.”

His gaze widens, and the temperature around you shoots up, charged.

But it isn’t coming from the Anakin front of you, rather from a few feet away from the both of you.

You meet the dark look on your Anakin’s face, his armor glinting in the pale, sterile Coruscanti sunlight.

You haven’t even blinked, but he’s next to you in mere six steps, Ani’s hurling toward the ground, and you’re in Anakin’s arms, warm, cold, safe and scared.

“Anakin.”

He looks down at you, and he melts.

“It’s okay, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

You turn to Ani, who’s now on his feet, his stance as same as your Anakin.

“We need to leave,” he states to his armoured copy, stark.

“He’s right,” you turn back to Anakin, “We’re in danger, Anakin, the Chancellor is the Sith—”

“What?!”

He recoils, looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sky, he’s messing with you, don’t listen to him—”

“Are you serious?” scoffs Ani, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You’re the one to talk—”

The sky suddenly turns dark, lights blinking awake in the buildings outside. Clouds fog the tallest skyscrapers, crackling with blue lightning.

The floor beneath you trembles, and you look at the end of the hallway.

There’s a man in a dark robe that you could’ve mistaken for a statue. But his eyes are a burning yellow that remind you of the flames of your Master’s funeral pyre.

The hooded figure bristles, and you can feel his sickly smile on your skin, feel the two Anakins next to you tense as the cold finally settles on their shoulders.

The name shouldn’t click in your head, but it does.

“Sidious.”

Silence rings in your ears.

“On three,” whispers Ani.

His fingers grasp yours and, from the corner of your eyes, Anakin holds your left hand as delicate his shock and anger can allow his metal arm to be.

“One, two—”

You take toward the window. 

“—three.”

CRASH !

The air r i p s with a violent blue and purple, and glass tears at your clothes as the air whips at your face and you freefall against the cold steel and stabbing rain.

.

to be continued...

thank you so so much for reading! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, drop a comment below! 💗✨

cross-posted on AO3

part one | two (here) | ....

[snoopsnoop07]

Francis (milk man) x reader or something ig

Guys this is a joke😔😔😔😜😜😜

⚠️WARNING SUPER SAD DONT READ IF UR SAD⚠️

Angst to smut😭😭😔😔😔🕊️🧍‍♂️🕊️🕊️🕊️

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” I protest to him grabbing his hand. The moon was illuminating the train station while me and Francis were facing each other in front of the train that was getting ready to leave. My blue orbs meet with his brown eyes as he looks at me with guilt. “I’m sorry my love, when I get home I promise I will stay with you forever, I really love you” he lifts the hand that I’m holding and kisses my wrist. My grip loosened up and he walked in the train “I promise to meet you again. Please wait for me” he waves goodbye from the window of the train. I wave goodbye with tears in my eyes and watch him leave.

TIME SKIP 69 years later

Music is playing from the radio. Specifically weezer as I bake chocolate chip cookies to cleanse my mind. As I put them in the oven waiting for my husband to come home. I’m super ecstatic at the thought of seeing him again. I decided to turn on the tv to pass the time. As I flip through the channels my eye catches the news channel. “Today we reported that a train heading to our city exploded. We don’t have any reports on the survivors. We will update you later this evening.” Wait. I thought to myself. “My husband is on that” I leaped up in the air and immediately called his cellphone. But before anyone could pick up I heard a knock on the door. The doorman doesnt let doppelgängers inside the building. I rushed to open the door and before I could say a word Francis wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me passionately and desperately. “I…I missed you…” he whispered between kisses.

⚠️SMUT PART.. RN!!😝😝😜😜😜🐷🐷😡🥰🇺🇸😈🕊️🦅👉⚠️

He gently leads me more into our apartment as he closes and locks the door. His kisses stop and start again but this time on my jawline down to my neck “Francis… shouldn’t we continue this in our bedroom?” He stops and looks at me with his sleepy eyes. Suddenly I feel his hand on my back and carries me to our bedroom bridal style. “I missed you so much sugar pie..” he says “I’m sorry for leaving you back then…. But I came back for you” he opens the bedroom door with his back and gently lays me on the bed. He starts to unbutton my shirt as he kisses my neck “please… let me do all the work” his tone had a slight whine. Then he pins me down and starts kissing my collarbone as his fingers trace down to my bra and then he unhooks it. I haven’t felt like this for so long but I feel eager, Francis notices and starts to take his own shirt too. Quickly he takes off your jeans out of desperation to see you. He starts to leave hickeys on my chest and neck as he massages one of my breasts. “Just relax sugar… that’s how it feels to ride an f150…” he whispers into my ear and kisses my forehead. He goes down towards my thighs and kisses them as he stares at me with a lustful and hungry expression. “Please sugar plum let me taste you…” he begs as he takes off my panties slowly. Again starting to kiss my thighs and gently biting them. Which makes me let out small moans. He trails kisses down towards my core. He swipes his tongue passionately through it which makes me whimper a bit. “You taste so good… please let me eat you more… you can take it right?” I couldn’t even say a complete sentence before he started to completely eat me out. It was too good. Yippie! “So pretty… just for me” he whispers while munching. He then starts to move his tongue quicker, yeowch! “Please… cum already… I want it NEOOOWWW” Suddenly I SQUIRTED all over his face!!! “Now darling.. tell me. Put a finger if you can squirt!” *puts a finger down* “good grill~” he trails kisses towards my chest now “i-i need to be in you.. He whimpers out. “Please” I nod in agreement. He gets up and quickly unbuckles his belt and yanks off his jeans. I can see through his bulging boxers that he’s ready to RUMBLE. He takes off his boxers and HOLY CRAP HIS DINGALING CHICKEN DRUMSTICK SPRINGS UP IN EXCITEMENT AND IT'S BIGGER THAN DRAKES!!! “Donald trump… if you can hear us, please save us..” I start to pray quietly. I open my legs like a turkey in a thanksgiving meal. He lines up with me and SLOWLY shoves it in, ouchies!!! He whimpers as he goes BALLS DEEP EVERYONE, CHEEKS CLAPPING!! He starts to thrust slowly making sure it doesn’t hurt yayyy! So I start to beg “Francis please go faster… I need to know how it’s like to ride an f150” then I flip him over so I’m the alpha male, Rawr!! Then I start to ride him going up and down so I know how to ride a ford F150. Yippie! His slender hands grab my hips and POUNDS me deep into his bawls, my back arches as he starts to guide me “good grill~ you’re so good at satisfying me…….AHHGGGGHGGG FASTER BUDDY BOY AHHHHHHHHHG~~~ MGHHHHHH” muffled screams fortunately weren’t heard through the apartments soundproof room. “I’m about to COMBUST” same!!! Then we both bust a nut!!! Yippie the end!!!……. OK GUYS GO LIKE AND SUSCRIBE TO THE AWESOME CHANNEL. POG CHAMP🗣️🔥🔥🔥

[thefourchimes]

Encanto Dashboard Simulator

haha guess who just decided to try something completely unhinged in an attempt to be funny and is probably failing miserably at it?

#im trying my best #this will probably crash and burn but hey at least i tried right #say hello to an encanto dashboard simulator #the movie but in tumblr lmao #or rather this is a day before the movie #also i think i fumbled on some of the characterizations...im sorry pls go easy on me ahahsfiuhasf #oh and dont question too much about time periods because i have no idea either #i kept it as vague as possible lmao

0 notes

🕯 encanto-updates May 20

Antonio Madrigal, the youngest member of the magical Madrigal family, will be having his 5th birthday and gift ceremony tomorrow!

The ceremony and celebration will be happening at Casita by 7 in the evening!

#madrigal ceremonies #the madrigals #madrigal family #antonio madrigal #the encanto

1,398 notes

🔁👀 hidden-in-plain-sight reblogged farmingwoes May 20

🏯 probablymagicalplaces Follow May 20

does anyone have any theories on what the youngest madrigal's gift will be?

🥣 magic-soup Follow May 20

maybe something similar to his siblings?? dolores has superhearing and camilo has shapeshifting. what could be a possible gift like those?

or maybe like his mom! something closer to nature, maybe

🌾 farmingwoes Follow May 20

as long as it isn't like his mother's gift, pretty much anything is good

🔇 shhhhquiet May 20

Hm.

👀 hidden-in-plain-sight May 20

hey man @farmingwoes u really shouldnt be saying things like this, u know? i mean, what if a madrigal sees it? u'd be screwed!

🌾 farmingwoes Follow May 20

as if the family would check this hellsite

👀 hidden-in-plain-sight May 20

u never know tho...they could literally be reading this right now

#theres always a chance ur words will come back to bite u #:]

759 notes

🙃 aaaaaaaaa May 20 • Liked by nothingswrongimtotallyfine

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#screams #more screaming

129 notes

🔁💃 his-shine reblogged her-sun May 20

🎶 her-sun Follow May 20

@his-shine Mi vida, I have a cup of coffee with your name on it.

💃 his-shine Follow May 20

You are a lifesaver.

#gracias #i really appreciate it #<3

59 notes

🧍‍♂️ listentomeimserious Follow May 20 • Because you follow #the madrigals

Finally, after three whole months of researching and writing, I have done it.

Here, in all its glory, is my analysis on why the Madrigals and their supporters are a cult, complete with sources, pictures, and pure undeniable proof to drill the point home and shut the doubters up.

Let's begin.

` Keep Reading

#the madrigals #encanto #this took me so long to gather and write #but i have finally done it #here is your proof!! #the madrigals are a cult!!!

6 notes

🔁🪓 please-take-a-break reblogged need-a-break May 20

🪓 please-take-a-break Follow May 20

I did not expect that tree to fall down the way it did.

🔪 need-a-break Follow May 20

Ay...come here, mi amor.

#eheh...lo siento

68 notes

🔁🫠 nothingswrongimtotallyfine reblogged lovercorn May 20

👊 gotintoafistfightanddidntdie Follow May 20

there's a donkey munching hay outside my house again...

🌽 lovercorn Follow May 20

op, are you okay...did you get enough sleep

32 notes

🧶 wondrous-crafts May 20

⚫ Anonymous asked: any new projects you made recently? will you share them?

Oh! Well, I do have some things I created in the past few weeks. A stuff toy and some embroidered items ready for events...

Not sure yet if I'll share them but we can see how that goes!

#got a couple things prepared for my family #but we'll have to see if i'll share them hahaha #yeah

47 notes

🔁🐀 iaminyourwalls reblogged jumpedbyacapybara May 20 • They're back!

🤕 jumpedbyacapybara Follow May 20

sure hope tomorrow won't be a disaster in the making

#knock knock knock #knock on wood

360 notes

[melrodrigo]

Lovesick - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Wednesday are polar opposites. Do they really attract?

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Request from ages ago, I didn’t proofread this. Please excuse any mistakes. Happy reading! <3

Wednesday had a problem.

When Wednesday had first transferred to Nevermore, and gotten the infamous Enid welcome and introduction, she couldn't have cared less about you.

"That is Bianca Barklay, the closest thing to Nevermore royalty they'll ever be."

Then Enid pointed to a girl sitting next to Bianca, staring at the bubbles in the water fountain with intrigue.

"And that, is YN. She's the school heartthrob. It's just impossible to not love her, you'll see."

"She looks like a mushroom." Wednesday replied dryly, swiftly turning on her heel and heading back to her dorm.

"She's a sweetheart. Everyone likes her. You'll find out what I mean. I'm always right!" Enid shouted out, before quickly catching up and walking side by side with the goth.

Enid had warned that this would happen. God, how was Enid right?

Wednesday's frown only grew deeper as she thought back to the moments you've shared over the past year.

-

"Hey, you must be Wednesday right? New girl?"

All you got in return was a curt nod.

"Allllright, I get it, you don't wanna talk. Trust me I get it, I was so silent the first week here, some people thought I was mute!"

Silence.

You frown a bit but redirect your focus to the teacher emerging from the door.

-

"Enid I do not understand why I have to suffer not only with you, but her. I was content just sitting down in the dorm and practicing my cello."

The werewolf had recently gotten three free passes to Jericho, and decided to drag both you and Wednesday out for a cup of coffee.

"I hate to agree with her Enid, but I really have a lot of biology homework to do." You mused from behind, still sore from fencing class you had that day.

"Oh come on! It's good for you two to bond. My two besties, we're gonna be so cool together!" Enid makes an excited sound, "We should come up with a group name!"

When Wednesday quips back that she'd rather die in a long long torturous death (which she'd probably enjoy) instead of have a group name, you can't help but snort in agreement.

You shoot Wednesday a look, small smile playing on your lips.

-

Ever since that first day at Jericho, Enid had you guys connected by the hip. Unwillingly.

But as the days went on, Wednesday found out you weren't so bad.

She was particularly late to lunch today, catching up with updates on the hyde case.

In fact, she was debating skipping lunch all together. But as she glanced over to the pentagon, a hand shot up along with a shout.

"Wednesday! Over here!" You were waving your hand wildly, gesturing for her to walk over.

Wednesday bit back a sigh as she moved towards you, and to her surprise, there was one empty seat opposite of you, plate full, apple on the side.

"I got some lunch for you. Oh and a plain granola bar, I see you always like eating them." You tell her absentmindedly, munching on a sloppy joe.

Wednesday hesitates, before saying a quiet thank you.

"It's my pleasure Wends. So, how's the hyde case going?"

You both don't mention the fact you used a nickname to address her. She sighs, she supposed it was nice of you to get her lunch, so she tells you about the case.

"It's going well YN, I've just had a breakthrough......"

-

"Come on Wends, pleaseee? I really really really wanna go to The Weathervane."

You stare at Wednesday with your famous puppy eyes, and see Wednesday's glare soften just the slightest bit.

"I....suppose we can go in a few hours. After I've finished my writing hour, I have hyde business to do there anyway." She says, even though she'd already taken care of the issue already.

"Could you help me study for midterms? I do not understand anything for the life of me." You whine and throw the book back on her bed. Flopping onto the soft fabric dramatically.

"Bring it with you to the Weathervane." Wednesday says sharply, and returns back to her typewriter.

-

"Sucky Birthday to you Wednesday! Come, follow me." You squeal excitedly, reaching for the goth and pulling her by the wrist.

Physical touch has come sort of, natural to you with Wednesday. You were a naturally touchy person anyway, but when you were around Wednesday everything felt very...heightened.

Hm, I wonder what that is.

Wednesday was constantly complaining about your intense need to be touching her at all times, but she never actually pulled away when you did; and you're well aware she could if she wanted to.

"Where are we going?" She asks, tone somewhat annoyed.

You turn to her and smile; so bright Wednesday swears light shone through your teeth.

"Grave digging!"

Wednesday's eyebrows twitches in amusement, a small but noticeable movement. You've become sort of professional in her mannerisms over the past few months.

"I knew you'd like it. Come on." You say, practically sprinting to your destination. It's not a smart move, and you stumble over your own feet; arms still connected with Wednesday's.

You fall flat on your back into the soft grass, Wednesday on top of you.

She looks so good, the moonlight shining on her face. You steal a glance at her lips.

She's staring at you with wide eyes, arms on both sides of your face. Her braids frame your head a little.

She coughs awkwardly, then gets up and looks the other way.

You follow suit, trying to calm down your racing heart.

"Ooookay. Let's- let's get grave digging now." You say finally, watch as Wednesday walks toward you but avoids your eye.

She's grateful it's dark out, or else you would've seen the red coating her ears. And when you reach for her wrist she pulls back, afraid you'll be able to feel her racing heart.

-

It's parent's day. The long awaited dreadful day where Wednesday has to talk to her parents.

They'll be able to tell right away, she has no doubt. She's lovesick.

They’d see right through her. They're like magic love wizards in that way.

"You ready Wends?" You muse from behind her, take her hand in yours. You were currently situated in her dorm room, the two of you alone; waiting for your parents to come.

"No." She replies, but not in a sarcastic or dry way. She sounds kind of...scared.

You poke her cheek and watch as she tries and swat your hand away.

"You look a little on edge." You observe, staring at the hairs on the back of her neck.

She's a little afraid if she tells you why she's nervous for this specific meeting she'll let it slip that she might've accidentally caught feelings for you.

Ugh. Feelings.

It's come to the point where she can actually say she has feelings for you. It’s pathetic, and quite frankly sickening.

"I'm fine. Let's just get this over with." She grumbles, and bursts through the door; leaving you standing dumbly in her room.

"Wednesday, darling how have you been?" Her mother drawls, smile on her lips as she speaks.

"I've been good mother. Apart from the gigantic monster that's trying to kill me. Actually, I think I'm having lots of fun." Wednesday says, looking over her moms shoulder to spy on you.

Just a little bit.

You look lively, and happy. It makes her feel weird in her tummy.

"My little storm cloud, what are you looking at?" Her father asks, watching Wednesday with keen eyes. It wouldn't be obvious to anyone else, but Addams were very observatrice people, and he could tell straight away when Wednesday has lost focus.

He follows his daughters gaze to a certain werewolf. He has to blink one more time to make sure he's not seeing things.

“Oh," He smiles, soft. "I see what's going on."

Wednesday turns sharply, face impassive.

"You don't see anything." She says hotly. Too fast for her normal speech.

Her mom smirks, catching on quick.

"Oh sweetie, we think it's cute. Our little storm cloud is in love." They coo, leaning forward to whisper with Wednesday.

The black hair girl scoffs, and folds her arms in front of her chest.

"I am not in love. I do not know what you are talking about." She replies.

"Sure you don't." Pugley adds, peeping in between his parents.

Wednesday suddenly feels hot underneath their gaze. She gets up abruptly, tilts her face up in hopes for some high ground.

"You all annoy me. This is why I don't write to you." She says before turning on her heel and heading over to you.

You stare at her with curious eyes as she walks toward you. Stops in front of you, hands stiff like a soldier.

"Hey? Whatcha doing?" You ask, pat the seat next to you. She ignores the feeling of something fluttering in her stomach when you accidentally touch fingertips.

"I would like to stay here with you. If you do not mind. My parents are being...unreasonable." She says, picking her words carefully.

You chuckle, smile softly.

"Of course you can stay here Wednesday. Come, come meet my family."

Wednesday’s heart almost jumps out her chest. She's really not one to be scared easily, but this was easily one of the most intense moments of her life.

She usually didn't care if anyone didn't like her, but there was an underlying nagging feeling that told her this was important. Your family was an essential part of you, and if she wanted to win you over; she had to win over your family too.

"I can't wait."

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Triggered (Rewrite)

AN: I’ve wanted to rewrite this for sometime since reading it back and it felt so cringey. As it’s about a neurodivergent reader I felt like it could and should be better. It’s mostly Part 1 that’s changed the most but I felt like it should have it’s own post rather than editing the old 3 parter, so I hope you enjoy. It’s been a nice way to ease myself back into writing too.

A ping rang from your pocket up to your ears letting you know you had a new message, hearing the sound your heart started beating faster. You had desperately been waiting for updates from your friend who had won the chance to be at Chelsea women’s open training session and was hoping he’d get something signed from Millie Bright for you. Millie is your favourite footballer but she has been out with a knee injury for months - hardly spotted at games or training as if she’s gone into hiding, but opening the photo from your friend filled your heart with joy seeing the blonde huddled with her friends. She wasn’t in her training kit but seeing her there kept your hopes alive that you’d have something signed in your hands by tomorrow. Your friend had asked you to come with him but you already had tickets for the England game tonight that was at the other side on London which made it impossible to be at both. You had hoped that if she wasn’t at Kingsmeadow she may had turned up to support her England teammates but the photo on the 6 inch screen proved she wasn’t coming. “She seems really rude (y/n/n), why do you like her? She’s not talking to anyone!” the next text came through, shattering your daydreams of finally having her autograph. “I don’t care, I love her! Pleeeease try!” you begged with lots of prayer emojis, keeping your fingers and toes crossed that he’d come up trumps.

“Here, it’s the last one” your best friend Mack broke your concentration from the text exchange as he sat down next to you, placing a hotdog on your plate. His mum was cooking a BBQ for your friend group before you left to go to the stadium which was conveniently around the corner from their house. Perching on the doorstep with him and watching the fans trickle towards the stadium you munched happily on the mounds of food piled up on your plate. Mack’s mum always goes above and beyond when it comes to gatherings, you had been eating BBQ food for hours yet your plate never seemed to be empty. She was the type of person who always left her front door open, her house was always filled to the brim with school friends, then uni friends and work friends. New Years Eve parties every year, Miss Gloria really knew how to throw a banging party! You and Mack threw some memories around while watching his mum pile more sausages onto your other friend’s plates, chuckling as you remembered her flinging you across the lounge to dance with her after she saw you sitting alone when you were younger.

The click of the front gate in the near distance drew your attention to the garden path where a very familiar blonde was approaching the house. Watching in awe as she approached Mack’s mum over the BBQ you rubbed your eyes to see if you were hallucinating. “Millie!” she loudly exclaimed, “I thought you weren’t coming anymore!”, looking to Mack beside you for reassurance that you weren’t going mad who had already upped and left, running over to see her. ‘What, the..?’ muttering to yourself in disbelief you heard them all chattering in the distance but didn’t notice her approaching you a little while later. You were spaced out staring into the distance trying to muster up the courage to talk to her when suddenly she was in front of you. “I’m assuming you’re (y/n)?” she snapped, breaking you out of your spiralled thinking. “Uhh.. yeah?” you replied, not knowing what to think of her standoffish behaviour, she always seemed so upbeat and happy that you just didn’t imagine her being as rude as your friend said earlier. Mack came running over saying his mum was out of food, glancing at the mound on your plate you offered it over. “I-I’m definitely not going t-to eat all of this” you stammered, still in awe that your idol was in front of you but confused with the interaction as you passed your plate over. She took it with not even a thanks and sat down beside you on the door step, beginning to eat like she hadn’t had food for months. “Ketchup?” offering the bottle that was next to you to try break the awkward silence that only amplified her chomping sounds. You felt the mood lift a little when she squeezed the bottle too hard it splashed over her plate in a massive gloop, waiting for her to chuckle at herself so you felt able to too. Squirming in her seat trying not to get it on her clothes, her knee grazed yours, “hey, hows the injury?” you asked trying your hardest to make small talk, “I’m not allowed to say” she responded bluntly, plunging the interaction into dead silence again. Rolling your eyes you let out a desperate sigh, disappointed with how the day went from hopefully getting her autograph to being totally disappointed with actually meeting her.

Glancing at your watch you called out to your friends that you should probably be leaving for the stadium soon, you were met with agreement from all of them as you gathered up the plates to wash up. When you collected Millie’s she asked why you had to leave so soon because kick off wasn’t for another hour. “I just like to know I’m on time” you replied, taking her plate to the kitchen as she followed asking more questions. “The stadium is only around the corner, you don’t need to leave that early” her statement sharp and slightly condescending. Your friends knew your autistic and adhd traits came out the most when you had a timed thing to do – like football. You liked to be there early so you could find your seats without the overwhelming amount of people staring at you arriving. You found comfort knowing you wouldn’t have to tell people they were in your seats and that you could relax knowing you were in the right place. You’d never been to this stadium before and new places trigger your anxiety. You couldn’t tell Millie that though, with the mood she’s in she probably wouldn’t listen anyway. “I just get anxious” you told her honestly, “well don’t worry about it, it’s just football” her tone now throughroughly irritating you. “Wow thanks, I’m cured” rolling your eyes at her ignorance you washed the last plate, expecting her to pick up a tea towel but she didn’t; truly cementing your feelings about the woman – rude and obnoxious! Maybe your friend was right!

45 minutes passed before you actually left leaving 15 minutes to get in and find your seats, you were now an anxious mess and on the brink of a meltdown. Millie lead your friends down an ally to a gate you hadn’t seen when you studied the stadium map online yesterday, falling behind as you rushed to find the tickets on your phone and missing the email containing them. “I can’t find the tickets” you said in quiet panic but realising no-one heard you made you become even more flustered, “guys, slow down! I can’t find the tickets!” you pleaded with everyone to help. Millie turned around and looked at you in a way that you could tell she was annoyed, “you’re with me you don’t need tickets, put your phone away!” she shouted but didn’t stop walking. Looking at Mack in desperation he shrugged but didn’t say anything. You’d never felt more like an outcast to your friends, they all knew your triggers and signs you were getting overwhelmed but it seems Millie’s presence made everyone forget them. You were so looking forward to this game but now you just wanted to leave and go home, everything was going wrong and it was nothing like you had planned for weeks. Millie handed over her pass to the steward as Mack watched you still frantically trying to find the tickets you bought a month earlier, clicking the lock button he gestured for you to put your phone away with no explanation. “5 yeah? All good” the steward said in a bored and tired tone. You didn’t have a clue what was happening but Mack linked his arm in yours and shuffled you inside to seats that weren’t the ones you had carefully chosen when booking them. To be fair, they were really good seats just above the dugouts but you couldn’t help feeling on edge knowing these weren’t your booked ones and panicked someone was going to tell you to move at any moment. Millie sat down next to you with her huge England puffer jacket encroaching on your personal space, hearing every squeak of the fabric against the chair and rustling against your body, you had never felt more uncomfortable.

Noticing you were stimming – tapping your foot making your leg shake and fiddling with your thumb ring, Millie placed a hand heavily onto your thigh making your leg stop shaking instantly. This meant that your anxious energy couldn’t be released and was getting blocked up inside you. “What’s wrong?” she asked sounding genuinely concerned, moving her hood so you could see her face. “Nothing” shaking your head violently trying to stop her from asking anymore questions. You were trying so hard not to have a meltdown and anymore questions might push the tears you were trying desperately to hide out of your eyes, you really didn’t want her to witness this. You’d looked up to the defender since you were younger and you thought meeting her would be a dream but today has been nothing short of a nightmare. She’d hit all your triggers without even realising you had any and you were really struggling to hide your contempt. “Just tell me” she said forcefully. Staring out at the pitch you thought deeply about what you wanted to say but it all came blurting out like a car crash of words leaving your mouth. “I’m autistic and have ADHD, I’ve never been to this stadium before so looked up all the maps of how to get here and where our seats were, I like to be early so I know I’m in the right place, you took us a different way and sat me in a different seat, I always sit on the aisle so I don’t feel trapped, the Lionesses are my special interest, I didn’t get to watch the warm ups or feel the atmosphere before the game, I hate being late and your jacket is so noisy it’s making me want to throw something at you!” Your words left your mouth in one extremely long sentence barely making time to breath, your monotone voice wasn’t raised just sad nothing had turned out like you’d planned. You took a breath and let out a long sigh, feeling a slight release of letting it all out and finally able to look at her. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for ages then you turned up and changed everything, it’s been a lot to deal with” you finished calmly and honestly. Millie stared at you blankly like everything you had just said flew straight over her head. You couldn’t help that you felt uncomfortable, your friends knew what triggers you and could have been more understanding to all the plans changing – one change you could have dealt with but this.. this was a lot.

“Do you drink tea?” Millie asked you after a long awkward silence, nodding gently she asked how you have it then rose from her seat, re-emerging moments later with a cup in her hand. “Sit in this one” she gestured to the seat she was in before which was on an aisle then passed the cup to you; instantly feeling a little relief as the warmth spread through your fingertips to your palms. Hearing the loud zipper of her coat she took it off without any hesitation and started to put it around your shoulders. “What are you doing?” trying to shrug it off, wondering about her intentions, “trust me, it’s a like a big safety bubble, put it on” she nodded smiling for the first time today as encouragement. Feeling the warmth around your body and the weight of the coat acting like your heavy blanket at home you sunk into your new seat, your heart rate slowly returned to normal and your eyes were no longer acting like dams for your tears. “I’m really sorry (y/n), I didn’t realise” her words sounded sincere. “Why would you? I have to work very hard to appear like everyone else, to seem normal. Nobody would know unless I told them or I suddenly snapped. They’d just see me flip out over one tiny thing without recognising all of the other things that had lead me to have a meltdown” you said looking down at your cup, embarrassed with how honest and open you were being. “I get it, I really do” she smiled, taking hold of one of your hands and holding it between hers on her lap as the teams walked out onto the pitch immediately making you happy again. It’s like she had heard you, listened and understood exactly what you needed - to feel safe.

Millie held your hand throughout the entire game, stroking her thumb along yours intimitently to keep you grounded and only stopping when England scored or to top up your tea. You’re unsure how she went from standoffish and rude to caring and kind so quickly but you wish more people you told about your neurodivergence acted this way when they find out instead of looking at you weird and ignoring everything you’ve just said - despite the beginning of the day, you had a good night.

Standing up and unzipping the coat to return it to her she abruptly stopped you, pulling it back onto your shoulders. “It’s okay wear it home, it’s gotten cold now” her voice a lot softer than a few hours ago and certainly more bubbly than earlier in the evening. “I can’t do that this is part of your kit” you giggled nervously, still trying to take it off. “Well I can’t let you walk home cold can I” she shrugged joking like her hands were tied. You argued back and forth at who would take the coat until you finally accepted the kind gesture, “I’m a hot bod anyway” was her winning statement which made you smirk, ‘in more ways than one’ you thought to yourself. Millie asked to walk you out but you didn’t need babysitting and suggested she go congratulate her teammates instead. “I wasn’t implying that you need babysitting, I just wanted to make sure you’d get home okay” trying to justify her intentions. “Well I won’t be home for at least two hours so you’d be waiting a long time” you laughed, shuffling past her to try and make your exit. Millie was shocked with how long a journey you had and had assumed you lived near the stadium as you were at Mack’s earlier in the evening. You chatted until your friends were ready to leave and finally asked how she knows your friends, questioning why he has never mentioned knowing the defender before now. Turns out her mum knows his mum from grassroots and she very rarely pops by, the game just happened to have been played near their house and Mack hadn’t seen her since he was a child. “I’m sorry I made tonight tough for you” she said, touching your back for reassurance which you barely felt through the puffiness of the coat. “It’s okay, nothing a tea can’t fix” you’d had a good night in the end, knew why you were triggered and was able to get over it quickly with her help. “No it’s not okay, I should be more aware of how my words and actions affect people” she looked down at the ground with embarrassment. “It’s not your job to accommodate me” you said bluntly still feeling like she was babying you. Before she could reply Mack called out that they were ready to leave and interrupted your conversation. You thanked Millie again for the coat but insisted you wouldn’t need it as you’ll be sat on a train, trying for the last time to return the offering but once again she stopped you. “Can I drive you home?” This girl just doesn’t give up! You had to put your foot down and raised your eyebrow in a ‘I’m so done with you’ way, “okay! You don’t need babysitting, I get it! Keep the coat though please” she smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes over exaggeratedly, your eyes rolled and reluctantly agreed to keep her from continuing to fuss. Holding her arms out to initiate a hug, you hesitated but hugged goodbye quickly when she called you out for leaving her hanging then made your way to the station.

On your second train of the night you were now half way home with an hour to go when your phone pinged.

“Did you get home safe?”

“It’s Millie by the way”

“I asked Mack’s mum to send me your number 🙊”

3 messages came through immediately one after the other.

“Good job you’re a footballer cause you can’t count!” you replied sarcastically “two hour journey I said, not one!” Sending a selfie of yourself, hood up earphones in and very obviously still on a train.

M - “Wish you had just let me take you home, you’d have been in bed by now”

Y - “Still babysitting are we?”

M - “No just checking this cute girl I met tonight is safe, that’s all 🙂”

Struggling not to spit out your drink as you read the last message you stumbled over how to reply. Was she seriously flirting with you right now? Settling for a funny but ugly faced selfie with “cute you say? 😂” to gauge if she really was flirting or just being kind.

M - “Don’t ruin your pretty lil face please”

M - “Although if any creep comes and sits near you that face will make them run a mile 🤣”

Y - “Didn’t work on you though did it 😉”

M - “Cheeky! 😳”

M - “Sorry again about tonight”

Y - “You’re gonna have something to actually be sorry about soon if you don’t stop!”

Y - “Honestly it’s okay, your actions after I told you speak louder than your ones before”

M - “That’s a nice thing to say”

Y - “Yeah you’re not used to saying nice things are you!”

M - “Shut ittt! What ya listening to?”

Y - “Nothing, I just put them in so no one talks to me, I need to hear the station announcements otherwise I get distracted and miss my stop 🙃”

With that she tried to FaceTime you but assuming it was a mistake, you didn’t answer.

M - “You ignoring me now?”

Y - “Assumed it was a butt dial 🤷🏻‍♀️”

M - “No I wanna see your face”

Y - “I’ve already sent you a photo!”

Your message had barely delivered when she tried to call you again, staring at your phone for a while before reluctantly answering; you wanted to be left alone to process the day and unwind from the overstimulation you had endured for hours but here you were FaceTiming with Millie Bright. What a mad day! “You don’t give up easily do you?“ was your opening line, “not when I want something, no” she smiled from the other side of the phone. Giving her a stern look with a raised brow you really didn’t know how to take her, what you did know is that her cheeky smile made you feel warm inside... It was either that or her massive coat still wrapped around you! She asked how long until your station and set a timer so you didn’t miss it which you secretly thought was adorable and incredible thoughtful. “For someone who didn’t want my coat, you’re still wearing it” she teased, rolling your eyes again as you leant your head on the window. She asked you where home was and said again that she would have driven you as she lives near by, you replied cheekily that your mum told you not to get into a car with a stranger. “Strangers are we?” her voice turned high pitch and excitable, “we’re hardly anything other!” you hit back. Millie wanted to change that and asked you to tell her about yourself, explaining that you’re exhausted you suggested she go first as your blinking slowed, you barely had the energy to stay awake let alone make small talk.

“Okayyy... I’m Millie, 29 years old” you were surprised at her age as she seemed older which she jokingly took offence to. You exchanged birthdays, star signs and talked about family - something that means a lot to the both of you. “I’m a footballer, as you know” pulling a 💁🏼‍♀️ face, “oh are you? I didn’t know that! I did wonder how you got this coat” you said popping the hood sarcastically. “Can certainly tell you live up to your star sign, your sarc is off the charts!” seemingly impressed that someone can keep up with her banter. “Your simp is off the charts!” you snapped back quickly. “Shit, is it that obvious?” her eyes widened in shock as you nodded in a ‘well duh’ sort of way. “So you’ve known I’ve had the hots for you all this time and you’ve just been knocking me back?” she asked as she laid down on her bed holding the phone above her head looking sleepy and adorable. Telling her you couldn’t let her have it easy, plus you didn’t know if she was flirting or just being friendly because she fucked up earlier, Millie assured you she wouldn’t do that but you reminded her that you didn’t actually know her and it pays to be cautious. “You were a right bellend and then went all soft” you said kicking your feet up on the chair in front of you, “I was just having a bad day” she muttered glancing away from the camera, “wanna talk about it?”. She spoke about her day at Chelsea, they sent her away as she’s still not fit to play, she can’t talk about her injury as it’s in her contract not to, she just wanted to be playing with the girls and is sad she’s missing out on the last England camp before the World Cup. Camp is her fave place to be and was extra sad because she’s missing out on seeing her best friend.

The alarm went off on Millie’s phone so you knew the next stop was yours, you thanked her for keeping you company but she wouldn’t let you say goodbye until you were safe in your car. Nobody had cared this much about your safety before accept your mum but you were still sceptical whether it was because she felt guilty for causing you to have a meltdown earlier.

“Are you home?” pinged up on your phone as you pulled up on your driveway. You couldn’t help the corners of your mouth turn up as you saw her name flash but decided to keep her waiting while you made your way inside your home, turning on the lights and pulling on your bed clothes before falling into bed. Sending her a photo of your bedroom TV showing Friends and telling her to let you know an address to send her coat back to.

M - “The coat was a reason to see you again”

Y - “Oh and there was me thinking you were doing it out of the kindness of your own heart”

Your phone vibrated next to you as she tried to FaceTime you again, this girl just does not quit! “Are you single?” she immediately opened with as soon as you answered phone and plotted to play with her a little. “Who’s asking?” you teased, “me, obviously!” she giggled, anxiously waiting for an answer. “Oh no sorry, I’m taken” you paused before laughing. “Yes I’m single, haven’t found someone who can handle all this yet. I’m not into girls though soz” struggling to keep a straight face with the lie you told. “I don’t believe that, I’m not the only one who’s been flirting all night!” her voice once again high pitched as she sat up in bed appearing more alert with the conversation. “How dare you insinuate such a thing!” your tone turning dramatic, playing with her. You chatted for a little while until your eyes couldn’t stay open much longer and started to drift off. Millie watched you drop to sleep before hanging up, for some reason she wanted you and she wasn’t gonna stop until she got you.

—————————

“Good morning beautiful 😘” was the first notification you saw when you picked your phone for the first time of the day to look at the time.

Y - “It’s been a long time since I woke up to one of those texts 🤭”

M - “I’m surprised about that”

Y - “get to know me better and maybe you won’t be lol”

M - “I’d like to, are you going to the game tonight?”

The text exchange had been non-stop since your train ride home a few days ago. You hadn’t gotten tickets for the England v Australia game tonight as the stadium looked tricky to get to and two unknown stadiums in one week was just a bit too much overstimulation for you. Millie wasn’t taking no for an answer though as she asked you to go with her and to meet at her house, she’ll drive so there’ll be no public transport involved. You said you’ll think about it but in typical Millie fashion she replied “it’s a date, be here at 7 😉” sending you a pin of her address. You didn’t reply after that, still trying to keep her guessing. Of course you’d go if it meant seeing Millie again, your head had been filled with thoughts of her since the day you met!

Pulling up on Millie’s drive and climbing out of your car, she must have been watching and patiently awaiting your arrival as her front door flew open the moment she heard the hum of an engine. “Nice coat!” she shouted from the doorway, “I’ve got my own in here” you called out to her when opening the boot of your car to look for it. “Keep it, it looks good on you” she winked, holding her arms out for a hug, kissing you on the forehead as she squeezed you tightly then held her passenger door open for you to slip in. “So..” she started after turning the radio down “I’m gonna park in the player’s car park and we’re gonna go in through the back door, they don’t show that on the map” - informing you of what’s going to happen tonight. It was admirable that she’d taken on board what you’d said last time and was trying to ensure that you would be comfortable. “I haven’t looked at the map for tonight, I trust you” turning to smile at her after clicking your seatbelt in place. For the first time in ages you’d agreed to a spontaneous plan and hadn’t researched it to an inch of it’s life. The conversations you’d had with her for hours on end made you feel safe, like you could rely on her to make sure you have a stress-free evening. “That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever had” turning to look at you and squeezing your thigh. “Okayyy, what I’m hearing is that not a lot of people trust you so I shouldn’t?” jokingly opening the maps app on your phone. “No, stop. Obviously normal compliments are fine but being trusted feels better than say.. being called pretty or something” she shrugged. “Well you’re that too, I’ll see if I still trust ya at the end of the night” chuckling softly at the playful interaction. Both of you knew that the feelings between you were mutual and the days of pretending you didn’t were long gone.

Pulling into a space close to the England bus, Millie guided you across the car park towards the stadium, away from the hustle and bustle of thousands of fans making their way inside. As you neared closer her hand grazed against yours before locking your fingers together making your tummy do cartwheels. She flashed her lanyard and got waved inside, she lead you up the stairs and into a box, grabbing you both a tea and settling into your seats where she made sure you were on the aisle again. Eyeing up the line up together her head was almost on your shoulder as she leant over to look at your phone. The game was bleak, Millie watched you stand up and sit down every two minutes shouting support at the team, at a moment where you were sitting her hand found its way onto your thigh again “I love how into this you’re getting” she chuckled as softly as her eyes looked into yours. “I’m comfortable, I’m not like this if I’m not” shrugging at her comment. “Like the first game?” she asked, you nodded and explained how being yourself is harder when you’re uncomfortable then asked if she’s frustrated watching her team losing. “No, you watch the game but I’m studying it. Where we’re going wrong, what could have been done differently. It’s all learning. Yeah, it’s gutting but it helps us prepare for the World Cup… you carry on though, it’s cute” nudging her shoulder into yours. “My friends think I’m embarrassing” standing up again to watch a corner be taken, “I’d prefer you to be yourself” the defender’s hand grazed your back as she stood up next to you.

The evening was filled with smiley flirty glances towards each other and at half time she made her move, lifting her arm up and around your shoulders allowing you to snuggle into her. You reminded your date that the cameras would probably show her at some point but she didn’t care. This made you blush a little as you sunk further into her; with your feet up on the seats in front of you, it felt super cosy. The Lionesses came away with a loss, the first L under Sarina’s management. It was a tough pill to swallow as fan and player but you couldn’t have been prouder of the team. Losing made you appreciate women’s football, the crowd just accepted it and moved on. No arguments or swearing or violence - proud of the players regardless. Allowing the fans to trickle out of the stadium before making your exit, Millie held your hand every step of the way and once in the car park wrapped her arm around your shoulders again until you got to the car.

Her hand never left your thigh during the entire drive home and pulling up outside the house you were quick to climb out the car and wave goodbye, you desperately wanted to stay but suddenly felt awkward, what if she didn’t want to kiss you? You could never live with yourself if you were rejected. Heading towards your own car a hand clasped around your wrist, Millie was pulling you back towards her. “Can’t wait to get away from me aih?” she asked with a smirk as her forefinger stroked the hair out of your face. “No.. it’s not that..” looking down at your feet as your reply was muttered, “what is it then?” using the same finger to lift your chin so you were looking up at her. Her bright blue eyes and floppy blonde bun made you subconsciously moisten your lips as your eyes flickered between her facial features. This told Millie everything she needed to know as she moved her hand to the side of your neck and leant down to place a kiss softly upon your lips. Tiptoeing to meet her half way, her other hand held the small of your back pulling you closer into her, yours balanced on her hips as your lips entwined further. “Stay with me” escaped her mouth between kisses, your lips smiling against hers as small nods moved your head in agreement, faces still joined together until she pulled away to guide you towards the house. You’d had such a good night that you didn’t want it to end! Watching her close the door behind her you were quickly pulled back into her arms “I’ll have my coat back now” she smirked, pushing it over your shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Kicking your shoes off she wrapped her arms around your waist and you draped yours around her neck, tiptoeing to reach her as your lips found their way together again. As she started to lift you up off the floor you broke away, “you shouldn’t be doing that!” concerned about her knee, “don’t worry about it” her voice had turned husky between kisses as you connected your legs around waist. She walked you over to the sofa, sitting down with you on top of her, hands on each others face. Pulling her bunchie out to release her wavy blonde hair made you smile more as it dropped past her shoulders. “You have a beautiful smile” she said tucking your hair behind your ears before kissing you again “I’ve been dying to do this since I met you” she whispered. You questioned her statement as she seemed so grumpy, she insisted that she was smitten the moment you shared your food with her. “That’s why I sat down next to you, I couldn’t have gone inside” she reassured you that she didn’t realise how blunt she came across, especially if you don’t know her very well. All that was blown away now as you felt her hands pull your head towards hers again, you spent the night getting to know each other’s mouths until you fell asleep on her chest. As she stroked your hair your mind filled with happy little flutters, you felt like you’d finally found your person, someone that took the time to truly understand you.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[master-sass-blast]

Let's (Not) Party, Baby.

Summary: You rub your swollen belly, both fond and exhausted. “I think it just feels weird to me. Like, the gender reveal party was to celebrate the healthy pregnancy lasting so long. But I just feel really weird about being, like, ‘I’m growing a human, come give me shit.’”

Kitty laughs as she unwraps another bar of chocolate. “Well, I think it’s the duty of the community to support pregnant mothers, y’know? It’s about equipping the parents with what they need to care for the baby.”

“Yeah, but everything I’ve read about and seen online is a whole spectacle,” you grumble. “And, honestly, I don’t have the energy for a party. I’m fucking tired. I feel bloated and sore. I don’t want to have a party where I have to put on real pants and eat melted candy bars out of diapers.”

Kitty stills, then slowly looks over at you with a wide-eyed expression of horror. “That’s a thing?”

“It’s a game,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. “You’re supposed to guess which kind of candy it is.”

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Kitty Pryde x Illyana Rasputin.

Rating: G.

Word count: 4.3k.

Set after "S'mores for Two."

Author's Note: Me? Posting more than once a year? Surely not.

In other news, my CFS/other body and brain shit is still overwhelming. It basically took dragging myself through editing to be able to post this latest round of fics (for those of you who don't check out my other works, no worries, but I like to post in little caches so that everything is updated mostly together). I'm not trying to vie for pity; I'm really fucking proud of myself for pushing through and being able to post. I had an unofficial goal of wanting to post more fics before April was over (because April is my birth month), and I did it! I am that bitch!

Thank you all for your patience -and all the comments! They really kept me going when the grind of editing was starting to wear me down.

Happy Reading!

“I guess I’m just not sure what to do.”

Kitty nods as she paints your fingernails a pretty shade of shimmering lilac. “Well, I think it just depends on, like, what you and Piotr want to do, y’know?”

The two of you are on the family room couch; you’ve both taken over the space a bit, actually. It’s a scheduled at home spa day, courtesy of Kitty. There’s dozens of bottles of nail polish lined up on the coffee table, next to two discarded face mask wrappers, a tub of coarse sugar scrub, a sleeve of cotton discs, and an entire store's worth of toners and moisturizers. There’s a half-empty pizza box on one end of the table, several bars of chocolate (and more wrappers), an open jar of pickles (the good, Kosher deli kind, according to Kitty), and a cereal bowl half-filled with peanut butter.

You swipe one end of a pickle spear through your bowl of peanut butter, then crunch down. I mean, I know that’s the point, but… “I think it’s more, like,” you begin once you’ve swallowed, “that I never thought I’d be in this position in life. And that if I ever did get to this stage in life–” you gesture vaguely around you with your munched-on pickle spear “–that I’d automatically know what to do.”

Kitty nods, curly hair bobbing with the motion of her head. “I get you.” She finishes your right hand, then screws the lid back onto the corresponding bottle of polish. “It’s, like, hard to wrap your head around.”

“Yeah. I mean–” You pause to load more peanut butter onto your pickle, which is harder than it sounds. “How are you even supposed to plan baby shower stuff?”

It’s a quandary that’s been gnawing on the back of your mind for months now. The gender reveal party, at least, had been easy. Tasty food, balloon with colored confetti inside, Aiden’s photography team because you and Piotr had wanted pictures, done. It’d been a celebration of having a pregnancy last long enough to see the baby’s gender –and a wonderful day where you and Piotr learned you’d be welcoming a daughter in a few months.

Trying to plan a baby shower, however…

You rub your swollen belly, both fond and exhausted. Your eviction date is coming for you, Masha, whether you like it or not. “I think it just feels weird to me. Like, the gender reveal party was to celebrate the healthy pregnancy lasting so long. We all ate food and enjoyed each other’s company. But I just feel really weird about being, like, ‘I’m growing a human, come give me shit.’”

Kitty laughs as she unwraps another bar of chocolate. “Well, I think it’s the duty of the community to support pregnant mothers, y’know? It’s about equipping the parents with what they need to care for the baby.”

“Yeah, but everything I’ve read about and seen online is a whole spectacle,” you grumble. You hold your hand out for a square of chocolate, then pop the piece Kitty gives you into your mouth. “And, honestly,” you continue as you tuck the chocolate into your cheek like a hamster, “I don’t have the energy for a party. I’m fucking tired. I feel bloated and sore. I don’t want to have a party where I have to put on real pants and eat melted candy bars out of diapers.”

Kitty stills, then slowly looks over at you with a wide-eyed expression of horror. “That’s a thing?”

“It’s a game,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. “You’re supposed to guess which kind of candy it is.”

She gags, then shakes her head. “Fuck that. That’s just gross.”

“Exactly!”

Kitty eats a few squares of chocolate, expression contemplative. Once she swallows, she says, “I guess I don’t see it as that big of a deal –not having a baby shower and all that. We don’t have baby showers in Jewish circles.”

“Oh.” Your brows lift upwards. “Why not?”

“It’s considered inauspicious,” she explains. “My best friend’s older sister’s parents kept all the baby stuff at their house until she gave birth. Then, they went over to her and husband’s place and set everything up for when she came home.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to one side, considering, then grimace and shrug. “We already have the nursery part way set up, though–”

“I didn’t mean that, like, that should do the same thing,” Kitty interjects. “I meant it, like, whatever you do should serve you and your happiness.” She offers you a reassuring smile. “There is no real rule about what’s normal or not. If a baby shower sounds exhausting, then don’t do it.”

“But people might be expecting for us to have one,” you sigh wearily, “so they can celebrate.”

“Fuck them and their expectations.” Kitty grins when you laugh. “I’m serious! All that matters is what makes you happy.”

“And Piotr,” you tack on once you catch your breath. “And he might want one.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find that out–” Kitty twists towards the front of the house when the front door swings open, then thumps shut. “Hey, speak of the man!”

Piotr pauses his conversation with Illyana as he looks towards you. He glances at you, eyebrows raised, then at Kitty, then back at you again. “Chto?”

“Your wife has a question for you!” Kitty hollers before flashing a dazzling, enraptured grin at Illyana. “Hi, baby!”

Piotr takes off his shoes, then strolls towards you. “You have question, myshka? Is everything okay?”

“Well, first things first.” You cock your head back so you can look up at him. “Will you give me a kiss, even though I’ve been eating peanut butter on pickles?”

He smirks, then bends down and presses his lips against yours.

“Aaw, what a man,” Kitty croons. She cocks her head back when Illyana approaches the couch. “Will you kiss me, even though I’ve been eating pickles without peanut butter?”

Illyana chuckles, then cups Kitty’s chin with her hand and kisses her girlfriend. She looks up when you and Piotr share a grin, then gently tugs on Kitty’s elbow. “Davay.”

“Help yourself to the pizza!” Kitty tosses over her shoulder as Illyana ushers her towards the front of the house (and away from prying eyes).

Piotr kisses the top of your head, then circles around the couch and sits down next to you. The couch creaks beneath him as he helps himself to a slice of cheese pizza, then again when he leans back and settles in. “Ty v poryadke?”

“Da,” you assure him. “I was just talking to Kitty about baby shower stuff.”

Piotr’s brows draw together as he chews a mouthful of pizza. He swallows, then says, “I thought baby showers were not held in Jewish communities.”

“They aren’t. It was more like…” You gesture vaguely with one hand and sigh. “I don’t know if I want to have a baby shower. I’m so tired, and I feel like a boat, and I don’t want to wear pants.”

Piotr lets out a bellowing laugh mid bite, then quickly claps one hand over his mouth. He finishes chewing between giggles, then swallows and sighs. “Oh, moya serdtse. One day, there will be pants that you like.”

“Doubtful.” You smirk, but it quickly gives way to weariness. “I mean… I just don’t know if I have the energy to deal with a baby shower, y’know? But if you want one, I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“What I want–” Piotr sets his partial pizza slice down on a piece of paper towel, then leans over and draws you into his arms. “I want you to be happy and well.” He kisses the crown of your head, then tucks your head beneath his chin. “Masha will be loved and cared for regardless of having baby shower. If you are tired, then you deserve to rest, myshka.”

“Yeah,” you agree as you bury your face in his burly chest, “but if everyone’s expecting us to have one–”

“‘Everyone’ does not get say,” Piotr interrupts gently. “If they wish to help or give gifts, they know where to find us.”

You sigh, then nuzzle against his shirt when he starts stroking your hair. “Maybe we can have, like, a nice dinner or something? With family and close friends? And some help to finish setting up the nursery?”

Piotr gently rubs your back. “That sounds nice.”

“Cool.” You sigh again, far more relaxed this time, then lean over and grab your jar of pickles. “Want a pickle?”

Piotr hums, then nods and plucks a pickle spear out of the jar. “Spasibo.”

“Konechno,” you say before kissing his cheek.

…

“Thanks again for driving me,” you say as you stretch your seatbelt around your swollen belly. “I’ve just been so tired lately that driving isn’t really a good idea.”

“Konechno, ptitsa,” Alex says as she starts the engine on her truck. “How did your appointment go?”

“Good,” you sigh as you stretch and settle into the passenger seat. “Everything’s looking good. Baby’s healthy. Blood sugar looks good. My iron’s still low, though, so I’m taking a higher dose of supplements and I need to be careful about overtiring myself.”

Alex hums and nods as she navigates out of the clinic parking lot. “What can we help with at home?”

“Uh…” Your face and mind go blank. You try, unsuccessfully, to kickstart your brain, then rub your face with your hands when your mind refuses to cooperate. “I think that’d be a difficult question without factoring in pregnancy brain.”

“Fair enough,” Alex chuckles.

“Man, I thought I was spacey before,” you lament. “And then it was bad enough weaning off my meds, but now–” You stop mid-sentence and gape when you see the sign for a McDonalds. “McFlurry.”

Alex laughs again, then changes lanes and drives into the McDonald’s parking lot.

One order for a large fry and an Oreo McFlurry later, the two of you are back on the road and headed for home.

You hum contentedly as you swirl a few fries in your McFlurry. Before you can indulge, though, your addled brain kicks back into gear. “Oh. Did you have a baby shower when you were pregnant with Mikhail?”

“No.” Alex pauses to turn, then explains, “It’s considered back luck in Russian culture. Most expecting parents won’t have one or purchase things for the baby until they are born.”

“Oh.” You blink a few times –the curse under your breath when McFlurry drips off your fries and onto your shirt. You shove your fries and remaining McFlurry “dip” into your mouth, then wipe down your shirt with a tissue (not that it does much good). Once you’re cleaner, and you’ve swallowed, you ask, “Then why was Piotr so ambivalent about whether we have one or not?”

“Because that boy will follow you to the ends of Earth if you asked,” Alex answers with a smirk. “And he’s Americanized a bit since moving here. Plus, we didn’t necessarily raise our kids to be so superstitious. Nikolai and I saw it as more to not ask about someone’s pregnancy unless they wanted to share, rather than luck related. We still prepared a nursery for Mikhail and stocked up on supplies.” She drums her fingers against the steering wheel while you wait behind another car. “To be honest, even if parties were part of our culture, I wasn’t in any shape for one.” She chuckles ruefully beneath her breath. “I was a wreck during that pregnancy.”

“Honestly, I feel the same way,” you admit with a heavy sigh. “I’m so tired, and sore, and I don’t want to wear pants.” You smile when Alex laughs, then continue with your griping. “Plus, all of the shit I’ve seen for baby showers just… doesn’t appeal? I don’t have the energy to decorate, and apparently there’s games you can play? But it’s weird stuff like melting candy bars in diapers, then having everyone try and guess what kind of candy it is–”

Alex grimaces. “That sounds disgusting.”

“Yeah. Plus, if I’m getting candy, I just want to eat the candy.”

“Understandable and wise.”

“We talked about having family and friends over for dinner,” you continue after grinning, “and to have some help around the house and finishing the nursery… but, like, how do you ask people ‘hey, come bring some food and hang out and help us with the nursery and house stuff because we’re expecting a baby?’”

Alex smirks and shoots you a sidelong glance. “That seemed pretty coherent to me.”

“That’s not what I–” You stick your tongue out at her when she laughs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she assures you. She brakes for a red light, then looks over and puts one hand on your shoulder. “Just ask, ptitsa. Ask, and we’ll be there.”

You smile, and place your hand over hers. “Thanks, Alex.”

…

“I was thinking of actually printing invitations? I don’t know why, I just think it’d be funny.” You spit toothpaste foam into the sink, then resume brushing your teeth. “We could print an extra one to keep. It’d be, like, a cute memory thing.”

Piotr smiles at you in the bathroom mirror, amused. “We could. What would these hypothetical invitations say?”

“I dunno.” You rinse your mouth and toothbrush, then stick your toothbrush in the little holder you keep on the sink. “‘We’re having a baby; come eat food about it.’ Whatever works, honestly.” When he chuckles, you turn to face him. “Do you have a better idea?”

Piotr laughs, shakes his head, then bends and kisses the top of your head. “I trust your creative vision, myshka.”

“Damn straight.” You smirk, self-satisfied, then turn back to the sink and resume your bedtime routine. Floss, fluoride, wash face… what kind of food are you supposed to serve at a baby shower? “What kind of food would we have?”

“Uh…” Piotr clears his throat. “I am not sure,” he calls from the bedroom. “Perhaps we should discuss in morning. Take night to sleep on ideas.”

Your reflection scrunches its face as you floss. “I don’t think it’s that serious. It’s just, like, a potluck dinner. Almost anything would work.”

There’s a pause, and then your husband’s heavy footsteps approach the bathroom. He leans around the doorway and meets your gaze in the mirror, lips pursed. “Da. However…” He tucks his tongue inside his cheek and looks away. “Your nighttime cravings are… ravenous. And unpredictable.”

“I am not that bad!” You blow a raspberry at him over your shoulder, then toss your used flosser in the trash. “Fine. We’ll talk about food in the morning.” You reach for the bottle of fluoride –then gasp and scamper to the bathroom door. “We should have pancakes for breakfast!”

Piotr laughs and nods as he turns down the bed. “Pancakes for breakfast, very good.”

“With blueberries!”

“With blueberries.”

Pleased, you smile, then head back to the sink. Once you’re done with your routine, you head to bed and heft yourself onto the mattress.

Piotr, the saint he is, helps arrange pillows behind you to support your back. He leans over to watch as you scroll through YouTube. “Ah, nighttime listenings.” He holds out one hand. “Would you like me to find Among Us gameplay for you?”

“I can do it,” you insist, frowning. “I’m pregnant, not missing my hands.”

“Nyet, nyet,” he agrees. “But–”

“‘History of Americana Diner Food.’” You gasp when you see a thumbnail displaying burgers, fries, and a milkshake. Your stomach growls, and you groan. “Oh, burgers sound so good.”

Piotr bites the inside of his lower lip when you gaze up at him pleadingly. He hesitates, then sighs and relents with a soft laugh. “Davay, myshka. Let’s get you burger.”

You coo happily, then leverage yourself out of bed. “Just for that, I’ll share my fries with you.”

…

“I meant to ask you something earlier.”

Piotr glances over as you rummage through your take-out bag, then turns his attention back to the road. “Chto?”

“Why –that smells so fucking good.” You stop to cram a few fries in your mouth, then continue once you’ve swallowed. “Why aren’t you bothered by baby shower stuff?”

There’s a long silence. Then, with quiet bewilderment, Piotr says, “I think I am not understanding your meaning.”

“I mean… Your mom said that baby showers are inauspicious in Russia. But, when I asked you if we had to do one, you seemed ambivalent about it all.”

“I do not believe much in luck,” Piotr says after a moment, shrugging. “Some things are beyond control, da, but choices are what impact outcomes. Not unseen forces.” He pauses to change lanes, then adds, “And I want to be sensitive to you. You had bad upbringing. If there was something you wanted in preparation for our baby, for healing, then I want to make sure that happens.”

“Not everything comes down to my shitty childhood,” you press. “I’m not the only person in this relationship, and this isn’t just my baby we’re expecting.” You wolf down a few more fries. “I don’t want you to set aside what you’re comfortable with just because I had fuckheads for parents. This is all supposed to be about compromise.”

“I am not making myself uncomfortable, dorogoy,” Piotr assures you, tone gentle. He takes one hand off the wheel and takes hold of yours. “I think baby showers as tradition –as mandatory–is foolish. But if you want one to celebrate our baby, that would make me very happy. And if you just want to rest, that makes me happy, also. Khorosho?”

“Alright.” You squeeze his hand lovingly, then reach into your bag and retrieve a few fries. “Open up.”

Piotr chuckles, then opens his mouth and lets you feed him fries. “Spasibo.”

…

The two of you settle on printing one commemorative flier, just for the two of you, then email your prospective guests. The promise is for a breakfast-style buffet of sorts; the two of you will provide the blinis, kasha, and some beef bacon (so Kitty can partake), and everyone else has been asked to bring their favorite breakfast dish.

You bust out laughing when Wade –with Nate and Russell in tow–shows up with a trunk full of Poptarts. “You would!”

“We are not keeping all of those,” Piotr mutters as he eyes the wall of blue boxes uneasily.

“Says you,” you tease. “I’m eating for two! These should last us… oh, about a week.”

Ellie and Yukio supply doughnuts and muffins, Neena comes with a box of freshly made breakfast burritos, and Alex, Nikolai, and Mikhail bring a veritable feast of traditional toppings for the blinis and set up to make fresh latkes.

Kitty and Illyana arrive last.

You blink rapidly when you see the numerous bags and containers carried between the two young women. “You didn’t have to–”

“You’re the one who said to bring breakfast foods!” Kitty interrupts with a cheery grin.

You eye the gallon plastic bowl in her hands with mild suspicion. “What kind of breakfast is that?”

“Okay, this–” she gestures with the bowl as she bustles into the kitchen “–isn’t breakfast, but my mom heard that you’re pregnant, and she wanted to send along some food to help you guys out. This–” she lifts the bowl again “–is cholent, and ‘Yana’s got some roast chicken and challah from mom, for you guys, too. Do you have room in your fridge? Anyway,” she continues as Piotr starts rearranging the fridge contents to make room for everything, “we brought good bagels and toppings for them, because you can’t have breakfast without bagels.” She turns, finally catches sight of all the food in the kitchen, and her jaw drops. “Oh shit.”

“If you leave hungry, is own fault,” Nikolai announces while grating potatoes.

“Hey, that’s my kind of party!” Kitty says with a laugh. “Let me get my skillet and shit set up, and then I’ll start helping you, Nick. Where should I drop everything?”

“We have counter space for you over there,” Piotr says, pointing towards the back of the kitchen. “And vegan pancake mix.”

“There’s dairy free breakfast burritos for you in the paper bag!” Neena calls out. “And the guy doesn’t use pork for any of his recipes.”

“And the pork gelatin free toaster pastries!” Russell adds.

“The doughnuts back there are parve, too,” Ellie pipes up.

Kitty beams. “Thank you so much. You guys are awesome!”

You smile, and pause for a moment to take it all in.

It’s been an inexorably long journey. As far as you’ve come from your past, there are times where you still can’t believe you’ve made it here –somewhere good, and healthy, and safe. It almost feels like a dream. Or a magical trance. Or like you’re watching a movie, and you’re waiting for the credits to start rolling and for the house lights to turn on.

But it’s real. You’re in a beautiful home, with a wonderful husband, surrounded by people who love, respect, and care about you and each other. And you have a baby on the way, on top of it all.

“Myshka?” Piotr places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you assure him quietly as you wipe tears away from your eyes. “Just very happy.”

Piotr smiles softly, then bends down and kisses your forehead. “I love you very much, moya serdtse.”

“I love you, too.” You tug him down by the collar until you can kiss his cheek, then pat his chest when he straightens back up. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Uh, only if you’re sitting down.” Kitty blocks you when you try to enter the kitchen. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to be resting? Doctor’s orders and all that?”

You purse your lips. “You guys are guests–”

“And we’re here to help.” Neena gently takes you by the shoulders and ushers you towards the couch. “So, let us help.”

“Resting is good, myshka,” Piotr starts when you protest.

“Aren’t we here to help both of you?” Ellie pipes up, voice flat but eyes glinting with unmistakable mischief.

“Yeah, but who’s gonna muscle Colossus out of the kitchen?” Russell stage whispers in reply.

All heads turn towards Alex.

Piotr’s confident expression quickly slips away as his mother looks him dead in the eye. “Mama…”

“Are you going to sit?” she asks in Russian.

“Bozhe ty moi –I am not pregnant,” Piotr insists. “I can help.”

Alex sighs, then rounds the kitchen island. “Alright.”

“Nyet, nyet, I am not, mama don’t –blyat!”

You laugh along with everyone else when Alex scoops Piotr up bridal-style.

She carries him over to the couch, then sets him down with surprising gentleness. “Be good,” she admonishes lovingly in Russian. She kisses Piotr’s forehead, then glances meaningfully at you. “Rub your wife’s shoulders.”

Piotr chuckles, somewhat exasperated, and rolls his eyes as his mother strides back to the kitchen. “I am grown man, you know.”

“Da,” Alex agrees without turning back. “You are heavy like one.”

You giggle when Piotr rolls his eyes again, then reach over and grab his hand. You fix him with your prettiest, most pleading eyes when he looks at you. “You don’t want to sit with me?”

“I always want to sit with you,” Piotr assures you, relenting immediately. He moves closer to you, then puts one arm around your shoulders. “Would you like me to rub your back?”

“Oh, always.” You lean against your husband, then relax as he starts rubbing your sore back with his thumbs. You groan, eyes sliding shut, and bask –in him, in the warmth of your home, in the happy chatter and delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen.

Your life certainly feels full of magic.

...

Epilogue:

“Insert Leg A into Slot G–”

“That doesn’t fucking tell me which shitbag it is!” Wade snaps. He snatches the instructions out of your hands, scans the page, then growls and hurls the paper against the floor. “You’re a goddamn rocking chair! No one fucking asked you to run the elementary school accelerated program!”

“Definitely comes with the same baggage,” Neena mutters.

Wade looks over his shoulder at her, then back at you. “Remind me why she’s being the peanut gallery again, instead of using her internal magic eight ball to help us?”

Neena rolls her eyes. “For the last time, that’s not how my powers work.”

“Not to mention they’re probably already maxed to keep you from throwing the materials through the window,” you mumble under your breath.

Things would’ve been simpler if you’d just purchased a pre-assembled rocking chair. Unfortunately, not many of them come rated from someone of Piotr’s size (or the wear and tear you’re both certain that your baby –and, eventually, kids–will put the seat through).

“I keep telling you guys, you’re going about this all wrong!” Kitty calls as she carries the vacuum cleaner down the hall.

“Yes, do enlighten us, Ms. ‘Quantumania Axed the Best Character,’” Wade grumbles.

Kitty stares at him for a long moment, face scrunched up in conclusion. “...Right.”

“KURT WAS A GEM, AND WE ALL KNOW IT!”

“Look, you guys just need to let Alex and Ellie do this,” Kitty presses on as she gestures to the mess of wooden slats and rocking chair pieces on the ground. “It’s butch magic. They’ll sort it out in, like, ten minutes.”

“I already told you, Katherine,” Ellie hollers from down the stairs, “I can’t assemble a fucking chair!”

“Fine, Ellen!” Kitty shouts back. “Then just let Alex do it! Honestly, you have a hyper-competent badass in the house, and you don’t stick her on IKEA assembly? The fuck is wrong with you all!”

“Let’s keep things moving, please.” Alex’s voice and footsteps echo up the stairwell. “And reasonably calm,” she adds with a knowing look at Kitty. There’s a pause until Kitty nods and heads off, and then Alex appears in the nursery doorway. “What am I doing now?”

“How good are you at assembling rocking chairs?” Neena asks.

Alex chuckles, then plucks the instructions off the floor. “I’ll give it a go.”

[ravenelyx]

I love you in every timeline - Chapter 2: One Hundred Years of Solitude

← Prologue

← Chapter 1

→ Chapter 3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 10.5k

Chapter Warnings: angst, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name usage for reader (not even y/n dw), use of 2nd person though bc it makes sense for the story - trust me, Sebastian is veery confused and veeery jealous but he found a friend in this madness, veeeeery slow burn

Summary: "He smiled as he sat down next to the blonde girl, ignoring the giddy feeling in his stomach as you watched his every move. He also might have accidentally sat right opposite of you.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: I deeply apologise for the late update. I wanted to use this Chapter to expand a bit over his life at Hogwarts and other relationships, other than, yk, the rrrrromance. Anyway, Daphne is my crush.

You can find the whole fanfiction here on ao3

"Intrigued by that enigma, he dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her." - Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

The Great Hall was almost empty when he entered it, as most of the students had already gone to class. Since he had a free period before Charms, Sebastian decided to allow himself more sleep than usual.

Not that it had been any useful.

He felt exhausted, dragging himself to the nearest seat at his House table and resting his head on the cold wood. There was hardly anything left, and he was more than happy to just munch on a cold pancake and drink a glass of pumpkin juice, enough to sustain him for at least a few hours, although barely.

Perhaps it was the sight of the Hall, empty and familiar, perhaps it was the enchanted ceiling shining sunny rays on the Slytherin table, perhaps it was the unsatisfactory breakfast after an unsatisfactory dinner, but for a split second, Sebastian was at home.

It was a sour feeling, like his pumpkin juice had spoiled and his pancake had grown mould in his hands, yet he couldn't stop feasting on it, searching for a piece he could savour, if only once. That, he realised, was the beginning of his destruction.

Memories of the previous day's conversation came flooding back and he groaned, the weight in his chest growing heavier, and the pancake suddenly seemed even less appetising as he dropped it onto the plate.

'Everything is clearer in the morning', Dumbledore had said.

Perhaps he should lend me his glasses, Sebastian thought.

Fortunately, the headache had subsided since the conversation, and although his sleep hadn't been as satisfying as he'd hoped, he felt a little better than he had a few hours ago. Maybe it was the pumpkin juice.

He shoved the pancake back in his mouth, almost choking on it, and rubbed his eyes before standing up. From his table, a few Slytherins turned their heads towards him, and he recognised a few of his peers among them: a brown-haired boy was waving a wand around with a devil-may-care attitude while a blonde girl tried to snatch it out of his hands. None of them seemed in a rush to leave, which almost made Sebastian think he had read his timetable wrong.

He checked again for good measure and he was glad to know he was absolutely right. He then thought he might have been mistaken about the students: they either weren't in the same year as him as he had previously thought or they were waiting for the perfect moment to be fashionably late.

Sebastian, for all his self-respect and gallantry, had little time to be fashionable.

Leaving the students be — and ignoring their eyes on him as soon as he turned towards the door — he headed off to class, ready to begin lessons in a new, unfamiliar environment.

It felt bloody ironic to think that after five years.

If anything, the hallways were deserted and the cracking fire of the torches put him at ease, and that was a pretty huge step up. The walk to Classroom 2E was almost refreshing, and for once, he didn’t lament the stairs. The same couldn’t be said for the screeching laugh of a certain Slytherin girl as soon as she saw him wander around.

“Lost, new fifth-year?” laughed Pansy Parkinson, then she turned to her right as if expecting someone to pat her back.

If her goal was to discomfit him, she might need to review her bullying strategies.

“You’re not still crying because of what happened yesterday, are you?” retorted Sebastian, only stopping briefly to look at her before resuming his walk.

“I could give you detention,” she shrieked.

“That would delight me.”

Pansy Parkinson didn’t follow him, for which he was delightfully glad. Not that it would matter that much: he’d see her in class anyway — probably fleering at him with newfound energy once she had his beau  beside her.

A perfect pureblood pair, he almost wanted to throw up.

The classroom hadn’t changed an inch, so much that Sebastian almost expected Professor Ronen to parade down the stairs with his purple robes and terrible jokes. Instead, what waited for him was a short man standing on a pile of books, swinging from left to right on his tiny legs. He was waving his wand around, blank scrolls of parchments depositing themselves on each desk while a whole new bunch of them floated around his head.

“Oh! Come! Come!” he shrieked as soon as he saw Sebastian, gesturing for him to approach his desk. “Have your classmates met you yet? Oh, I’m sure they have! You seem like a nice, friendly bloke!”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if the words “nice” and “friendly” suited him, actually, but he gave the professor a smile nonetheless.

“I’d told Dumbledore he ought-a make a proper introduction! I can’t imagine how odd it must have been for you — and especially in such circumstances,” he whispered the last part, and Sebastian felt his smile falter and his heart drop pathetically to his stomach. That is something that adults do, where in all their experience and emotional maturity they always fail to consider their younger interlocutors' perspective, and Sebastian really wanted to snap at the small man and make him understand that he didn’t exactly feel the need to be reminded of his situation all the time.

The man seemed to notice, too (and what miracle, Sebastian thought), and he brought his hands to his mouth, capping it shut like he had just revealed a big secret. “Sorry,” he muffled, “I ought-a be more sensible.”

Unwinding his hands, he finally addressed the rest of the students, motioning Sebastian to turn towards them.

To say his introduction was embarrassing would have been too kind a compliment.

He stayed still like a statue, almost hoping that the less he moved, the less visible he was. The professor did the honours, and Sebastian had to fight the urge to take out his wand and blast Draco Malfoy and his gang to Merlin’s grave as they snickered.

“You may go and sit next to Miss Davis.” The small man lightly patted his back to direct him towards the desk. “I’m Professor Filius Flitwick — you can come and find me for any doubts, my office is open at every hour!”

“Every hour indeed,” whispered Miss Davis as soon as Sebastian sat down. “He might even give you cupcakes if you look distressed enough!”

Sebastian thought that Professor Flitwick might have to step up his baking game, as far as distress goes.

Charms class had paid off, and Sebastian felt better, more like himself, than he had in the past twenty-four hours. Flitwick was a little eccentric, but a very knowledgeable and capable Charms master, other than a lenient Professor by Hogwarts standards — he didn't even give extra assignments to those who were late.

Miss Davis — or Tracey, as Sebastian learnt — had been very helpful. She shared her book with him and lent him her notes. Sebastian realised there were quite a few things that he had never heard of, fruit of many decades of research and discovery.

On the whole, he believed he was content enough and ready for his next class. Sebastian felt at ease in an almost confounding way: and he was sure he'd become jittery soon enough, yet a new found purpose — if only for a short time — invigorated his spirit. If he focused on school, he'd fill his brain enough not to think about anything else. That was ideal.

"What do you think, mate?"

A Slytherin boy approached him, slinging his bag on his shoulder, and Sebastian jumped a little, surprised by the sudden voice. He recognised him as the boy in the Great Hall, with the messy brown hair and the long face, but his blonde friend was nowhere to be found.

"What?" asked Sebastian, slowing down to allow him to approach.

The boy smiled reassuringly. "Flitwick. That was your first Charms class in Hogwarts, was it not?"

Sebastian had to bite his tongue at that, willing Professor Ronen’s jovial face to disappear from his mind. “Indeed it was…”

“So?”

So…

Sebastian tried not to make a comparison, but a wall of pros and cons was already manifesting in the window on his mind, served with just a tad of cognitive bias.

"Oh, it was good. He's a bit eccentric isn't he?" said Sebastian tentatively.

"Yeah, but he's all right. We thought he was part elf for the longest time but we never dared to ask."

Sebastian smirked, remembering the professor’s squeaky voice and the books he had to stand on. He was almost bizzarre, when he moved his wand around: like a toy hit by a Transfiguration spell that jumped around as if alive. "I thought he was a bit… short."

"Yeah. Apparently he's part Goblin instead, but heh, same thing," said the boy nonchalantly and walked past him.

Sebastian faltered, stilling in place as if someone had poured concrete on his shoes. Just as a cracked mirror, the toy decayed on the wooden floor, moulded by years of humidity and abandon.

He thought he had grown even slightly accustomed to the changes — to the people wandering around him, the classmates treating him like a foreigner, the professors having to hide him under carefully practised smiles and braided hands on their mouths — and yet, the mere idea that his own professor had goblin ancestry was tearing him apart like nothing before. 

He knew that Goblins weren't the ones that cursed Anne (his friend had told him that, after all), and he knew, logically and maturely, that just because a few of them were bad didn't mean all of them were, but he still felt a little flame of anger — and prejudice — light up inside him, along with scattered guilt for his own thoughts and the memory of Feldcroft's events.

Sebastian wanted to forget the past, and yet it kept following him, even through space and time, and he couldn’t help but think about that goblin slitting his own throat at his wishes, and intrusively imagine Flitwick being in his place.

He really tried to ignore it, for his own good. Flitwick was a good teacher, a skilled wizard even: his ancestry had nothing to do with it — or him. He hoped that he wouldn’t need more time to warm up to the Charms professor after hearing the new information.

But he knew he did.

“What’s that face, new student?” came Draco Malfoy’s provoking snicker, followed by his group’s. “Was this little class so hard it made you realise how dense you are?”

“I'd worry more about your failed Colour Change Charm today. Need help with that?”

Draco Malfoy shut up immediately.

Upon leaving the classroom, Sebastian read his timetable again and saw that he had three free periods before Care of Magical Creatures. He groaned in displeasure and then cringed at himself: he was probably the only student in the whole world who wanted to actively study at the moment. He sighed and simply decided to spend his free time in the Library to try to catch up on what he had missed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Could you direct me to the books involving the events of the last century?" Sebastian asked the librarian as soon as he entered the room, and she eyed him suspiciously before handing him his library card and pointing him in the right direction.

Not much had changed in the Library, so much that Sebastian was still able to pronounce every book by memory as his eyes skimmed over the covers. He walked through the Library like it was home, his chest caving with a soft buzz of comfort and excitement. Sebastian thought he might cry on the spot if he didn't have so many curious eyes on him.

There was, of course, a new section with books he had never read before: books of the new century, and, wistfully, the books he was searching for. Whilst the new shelves broke that bell jar of naiveté gradually forming around him as part of him still clung to the past, an excited grin broke onto his face nonetheless; he had always prided himself on having read every book in the room — except for the Restricted Section — and the idea of absorbing even more knowledge was almost invigorating enough to brighten up his day. He was his parents' son after all.

Madam Pince stared at him from across the room, her neck moving to watch his actions in a way that eerily resembled a rattlesnake as he grabbed as many books as he could carry in his arms before placing them on the nearest desk where another Slytherin girl sat. She looked at him suspiciously, with a playful hint in her eyes.

"Busy, aren't we? I almost took you for a Ravenclaw,” she said jauntily, then glanced back down at her book, a copy of Intermediate Transfiguration, and unwrapped a parchment scroll beside it, pushing a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear so it wouldn't fall in her face.

Whether the girl intended it as a compliment or not, he allowed it to go over his head: her teasing had already stepped foot into his boundaries, but Sebastian felt like the bell jar was too broken to stop it, and he let it be.

"I've a lot of catching up to do," he sighed as he took a seat in front of her, opened the first book on the list — A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot — and read the table of contents, frowning when he noticed the book didn't get past the 19th century. What surprised him the most was that this was, technically, the assigned book for the year. Was the history of the past century so useless and uneventful it didn't deserve to be shed light on?

The girl raised her head and looked at him as he focused on the words in front of him. "Oh, right. You're the new student everyone's talking about, aren't you?"

That was not exactly on his list of yearly accomplishments.

Sure, he was the best duelist in Crossed Wands (second best, he suddenly reminded himself) and his duels were the talk of the school for days after they happened, and especially if they involved her.

But that was good talk. The kind of talk that makes people know you as talented and dashing and charming (and a loser sometimes, but only because she was better: and if she was better, he didn't care), not the kind that depicted you as the boorish and lonely new student who didn't even deserve a formal introduction and had a fight with two Prefects on his first day. That was the bad talk: the talk he wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy (or perhaps only to those like Duncan Hobhouse, because he was a boorish and a loner and his formal introduction should spare everyone present. But that was Duncan.)

"Everyone?" he asked then, rhetorically and with a strange need to eat those words back up and become that boorish loner, too.

"Well, it's quite an unusual occurrence. People are curious."

Curious wasn’t exactly what Sebastian needed at the moment, yet Hogwarts was, after all, a bracket of adolescents waiting to feast and find something else to worry about than their potions essay.

"Fair enough," he said, folding the book shut and putting it aside, deeming it useless for his research. "I'm Sebastian Sallow."

"Daphne Greengrass. Pleased to meet you." She extended her arm towards him over the table, her palm open and waiting, and he faltered for a moment at her boldness before repeating her movements. Her grip on his hand was firm and confident as she shook it. Sebastian studied her face more closely, a feeling of familiarity lingering on the back of his mind.

"Are we in the same year?" he asked, almost feeling the gears turning in his brain as he tried to recall her face.

"You're observant," she replied sarcastically. "Yeah, I was actually sitting behind you in Charms just now. Next to Pansy?"

Like an epiphany. He remembered the blonde girl at breakfast. She was one of the few students who arrived late to Charms class.

Then his brain focused on the name she said, and his eye twitched. "Don't tell me you're friends with her."

"I wouldn't say 'friends'; she can be rude sometimes."

Sebastian had a word in mind that perfectly described his combination of “rude” and “Pansy Parkinson”, but decided not to say it. He just rolled his eyes and Daphne smiled. "Really, most of the time she's all right. Quite nice even — but only if you're a pureblood. I'm actually surprised she's never thought of me as a blood traitor, considering the stances of my family, but I suppose there's a clear line between support and neutrality, and we haven't crossed it yet."

As if neutering any possible debate, she began scribbling on her parchment what seemed to be the beginning of an essay.

Sebastian felt like the line between neutrality and supremacy was much more blurred instead.

"Delightful," said Sebastian simply, picking up the nearest book and beginning to read it as they fell into a comfortable silence.

The books felt like a balm and a curse, redolent of pretty much every emotional experience Sebastian had lived through in the past day.

After about an hour, he put the books back, having flicked through them all, and had just begun to let his eyes wander over the shelf in search of a new one when he heard shuffling behind him.

Daphne had put her books away and was frowning at him. "It's nearly lunchtime, I'm heading to the Great Hall. D'you want to come?"

Sebastian paused for a moment, looking around and noticing how the Library was emptying by the minute. "Uh, sure. I didn't realise it was that late." And he found himself following Daphne outside, striking a conversation on the way and feeling a little lighter.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The sun was still as hot as ever as he followed his fellow Slytherins to his Care of Magical Creatures class a few hours later. Draco Malfoy led the group, snickering along with Pansy Parkinson and the two big students about some second-year Hufflepuff they took points from. Sebastian rolled his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw the back of his own head.

When Malfoy's blonde hair disappeared from his field of vision, he almost rolled them again when he recognised the familiar robes of his Gryffindor classmates.

Gryffindor could only mean one thing: You.

He frantically looked around for your familiar silhouette and breathed a sigh of relief when he found nothing. You hadn't mentioned any elective other than Divination to him — apart from your obvious dislike of Arithmancy — so perhaps, by some benevolent Supreme Being, you hadn't chosen that course, and he would have to see you even less.

His solace was short-lived, because after only a few seconds he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Sebastian turned and saw you walking towards him, followed by the two Prefects and the boy with glasses. Just like that, dread washed over him like magma, and he was sure his vision had lost focus for a moment — his body shrivelled at your presence, like you had touched him and burned his skin to the bone and no amount of Wiggenweld could fix it.

He grimaced (and he thought that the fact that he managed to contain his face to a simple grimace was noteworthy) as you approached and mentally prepared himself to start a conversation with you — because of course you would talk to him: you had done it every time you had met the day before.

It was logical, like Ominis being angry at him for no reason, or Anne taking his hands in hers when they met.

(But that logic can break, and he knew it all too well.)

It's not that he didn't like talking to you — he did: far too much, in fact — but he had made a promise to himself and was willing to keep it. He had already regretted telling you about the Undercroft, and he had felt incredibly embarrassed that morning when he had remembered your conversation.

‘I suppose I had no other choice,' his mind played it over and over mockingly, taunting him like a broken cuckoo clock in an old lady's house — and he has seen an awful lot of them in his time living in the countryside — or like one of those school kids he wanted to strangle when he was young, singing off-key doggerels at the bare mention of a girl's name.

You flashed him a smile and gave him a quick wave, and the corners of his mouth lifted against his will. He sounded himself leaning towards you, ready to strike up a conversation when you would inevitably stop beside him. After all, you had followed him the night before when he left the Great Hall, hadn't you?

And so he spoke, "Hi—"

"Neville? How did you get here so fast?" you said at the same time, shifting your wide eyes towards the Gryffindor group. You practically dashed past him, rushing towards another Gryffindor boy standing just a few feet away from him, and Sebastian was left there, his greeting hanging in the air unanswered. "We literally just left the greenhouse, did you sprint here or what?" He heard you laugh.

"Hello, Sebastian," said Hermione, as Ron and Harry gave him a nod of acknowledgement, with polite smiles on their faces. The three of them joined you and Neville, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, and Sebastian sighed, a heavy feeling in his chest and pure shame seeping through his veins. He thought he had physically heard his stomach bounce like a poorly knitted pillow, and the more his mind replayed the scene, the more it unbounded until all that was left was a poorly looped slip knot.

"Well, that was awkward." Daphne was right next to him again and had witnessed the whole interaction. Sebastian's eye twitched.

"What was?" He decided to play dumb, already knowing he'd be unsuccessful as his gloomy expression was more than enough for a tell.

"'Hi." She taunted him with an exaggerated dreamy sigh, and he bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance as another step forward in that boundary almost felt like a kick in the shins.

"I did not sound like that."

"You sounded exactly like that," she smirked. "You almost threw yourself in front of her, too."

"I did not," he protested weakly, looking at the ground to measure his position and see if Daphne was actually right.

She was.

"I beg to differ. What's with the few steps you took forward then?"

Sebastian was properly blushing now, and as the girl giggled, he felt like a wet Puffskein in a camp of Poachers. He frantically looked around to ensure no one was looking his way, and no one was, yet he still felt as if their eyes were just barely waiting to peel the skin off his bones as languidly as a blink. He took a step back as if it could undo his actions.

"Don't tell me you've already got a crush,” Daphne continued, either unaware or uncaring of Sebastian's feelings. “You've been here — what, a day? I mean, I get it. She is gorgeous; I'm sure many guys and girls would agree, but that's a record."

"I don't have a crush," he said through gritted teeth, arms tightening around his midriff as he crossed them to his chest protectively, yet at the sceptical look on his newfound friend's face, which seemed to reach parts of him that felt a bit too personal — specifically the alcove between his ribcage and heart — he snapped. "I don't! She just reminds me of someone else I knew. It's not her I... It's just not like that, all right?"

A few heads turned to him, startled by his outburst, and he chewed on his cheek to calm down. He did not need further attention.

He opened his hands and caressed the palm over his arms, as if smoothing the skin down.

The girl stared as well, and Sebastian was pleased to see her bite her lip as if regretting her words. "Wow, all right, I get it." She took a few steps to stand right beside him, trying to appear unfazed by his tone, and faced the Professor, whispering: "So, it's like a 'fill-in crush'?"

Not again.

Sebastian sighed heavily, like it could remove the huge weight of her words crushing his lungs. "A what?"

"You're attracted to her because she’s, in a way, similar to your other crush," said Daphne matter-of-factly, nodding in satisfaction at her own statement.

His blush spread, and he had to close his eyes to bask in that bell jar again, if only for a little.

"I wouldn't say 'attracted'," he muttered, but Daphne only raised her eyebrows knowingly, and he found himself yielding like a fool. "Well, yes... probably."

For some reason, the admission didn't actually crush his lungs as he had expected.

(He then thought the sigh had actually been responsible for that: let's give credit where credit is due.)

"Mm..." Daphne seemed lost in thought for a while. "Well, the only advice I can give you is to sort out your feelings."

Feelings. Those weren't feelings. They were a trick: a traitorous, disgusting trick of his brain that made him want to throw up.

"There are no feelings to sort out. I don't feel anything for her." Sebastian averted his eyes. "Nothing real, at least," he mumbled the last bit, turning his head away from the blonde girl. It was a terrible large word for such a small muscle.

"Well, that's great, for now. But if you do at some point — or if you two become friends in the future — really put some thought into it. After all, you can't rule the heart." She winked at him as Professor Grubbly Plank began her lesson.

You can't rule the heart. Sebastian knew this all too well and yet seriously wished he could. Especially at that moment.

"Was your crush unrequited?" Daphne added musingly as she got her book out of her bag, and his breath caught in his throat. He had, for a moment, settled down in that peaceful certainty that was a closed conversation.

Logic was broken again.

"Why... Why is that so important?" he asked, reproaching himself for his ridiculous stutter.

"It must have been if your brain is looking for a replacement."

“I do nothing of the sort,” he spat defensively, as if Daphne’s words had moved past that alcove and directly touched his nerves. He turned to glare at her, but she just shrugged and acquiesced to his words without arguing. That unbalanced him, like missing a step and feeling the void under your stomach.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been deeply offended by the girl’s assumptions, yet for some reason, he was relieved by her utter lack of judgement about his insane situation.

“All right, I’m just saying. Be careful," she resigned and proudly showed him her assignment sketch of a Bowtruckle, as if the conversation had never happened. Despite everything, he snorted at the sight.

“I’m impressed. It looks almost different from a twig,” he said, pointing at its head, and she slapped his arm with her book.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The day had gone better than he had imagined, and the next day started just as well, only with a bigger breakfast. This time, both Daphne and Tracey sat next to him, and that mere action made him feel normal again. (And there were no dry pancakes this time, Sebastian noted happily)

Ron and Hermione had stopped him right after he left the Great Hall to give him his textbooks for the day.

“McGonagall asked us to get these for you. They’re a bit worn down, but they will do. I hope.” Hermione had said.

Transfiguration class went by quite smoothly, and McGonagall was more of a capable teacher than he was willing to admit. He grinned in victory when he was the only one to have Vanished his mice completely by the end of the lesson.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.” Daphne complained, holding up a slithery mouse tail. “There’s no way you managed to do that before me. Beginner’s luck,” she sulked.

“Next time, you should start from the tail,” he snickered proudly.

“Next time, I’ll Vanish your mouth, Sallow.”

After that came two whole hours of Potions, and Sebastian was curious if the rumours about Snape being strict and — quote — a bully were true (the rumours being Ron Weasley).

He entered the class, careful to keep an eye on you, just in case you had the bright idea to sit next to him, and basically sprinted to one of the square tables that already seemed too crowded for you to attempt to follow him.

Unfortunately, his planning was as bad as ever because he ended up banging his hands on the table to avoid crashing into it, inhaling some of the dust and erupting into a coughing fit that momentarily broke his focus. When he noticed the bright red hem of your uniform right next to him, it was already too late.

"’Morning," you smiled politely at him, and he forced himself to smile back, certain that he could not have mustered a better expression than one that said, 'I'm going to puke.'

To be fair: the dungeons were quite humid, and that, mixed with the various strong smells of potions and ingredients — and the dust still lingering at the back of his mouth — was not helping.

“‘Morning,” he said, making his voice as clear as the ceiling of the Great Hall. The thought of being mocked by Daphne Greengrass again surpassed any social etiquette in the proper tone to use. You, however, seemed totally unfazed.

He assumed that being around blaring Gryffindors every day must have attuned your ears to withstand ultrasounds by now.

“How was your first day? I forgot to ask yesterday.”

Yeah, you walked right past me. Did you remember that, at least? he almost said.

“Not bad at all. I had only three classes, though,” he shrugged nonchalantly. The fact that you didn't even stop to talk to him and ask how he was doing was not bothering him.

Maybe it was mildly upsetting, like waiting all day to explore the Highlands and then being stopped by a sudden rain.

Perhaps just a little annoying, like receiving an A instead of an E on an essay one had worked on for days.

But not bothersome. That would mean he cared, and he didn't.

You nodded and began setting your ingredients on the table. “What about today?”

He had to force himself not to care then. Force himself to suppress the sudden, prideful fluttering in his chest. He decided he was going to check the dorms that night: there were definitely a few moths or flies nestling around that he had accidentally swallowed while sleeping.

"McGonagall, first two periods."

You gave him a sweet smile that made his stomach tighten, and before he could stop himself, the moths fluttered and he blurted out, "I was actually the only one to master the Vanishing Spell today."

You seemed to be caught off guard, and he saw Daphne stifle a laugh out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he didn't quite grasp what he did wrong. Then, like a cannonball he felt his cheeks warm up, as if his body had caught up before his brain.

Because he had just shamelessly bragged about himself like a first-year learning the Levitation Charm for the first time.

"Cool." Your voice was about an octave higher as you nodded at him, unsure how to respond to his statement. He bit the inside of his cheek, and wished the Giant Squid would burst through the window and snatch him away to make him its lunch. He definitely needed to check the dorms.

"W-what about you?" he asked instead, knowing that not even the Squid would show him mercy at this point.

(He suspected it would laugh at him, too.)

“Two free periods. I caught up on homework a bit.” You shrugged off your robe and neatly placed it with the others in a corner of the classroom closest to your worktable. “Hogwarts Professors do love an essay, don’t they? Feels like I haven’t stopped writing since the year started. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they asked us to write one right on the train.”

He grinned. “Seems like I have a lot to catch up on.”

“If you’re lucky, they’re going to spare you. I can’t believe I still need to work on my essay on Gillyweed; I thought I might spend the evening—”

Just like that, a tall Gryffindor boy came sitting on your right, and Sebastian watched as you faltered, pausing your hand mid-air. You were holding a handkerchief in which you had wrapped your Erumpent tongue: It never made it to the table's surface.

“Hi,” said the boy politely, flashing you a smile that you returned immediately.

“Hi,” you breathlessly replied, finally setting the wrap down and wiping your hands on your cardigan, taking a deep breath. Sebastian waited for you to continue your sentence, but it seemed like your conversation with the Slytherin was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

“Is this seat taken?”

What happened later felt more like a warm rush to his forehead, which quietly manifested into a frown. Why was he bothering asking if he had already put his stuff down?

But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Not at all — you can have it.” You stuttered a bit.

He watched this whole interaction with his mouth open, noticing the small smile dancing on your lips as you stole glances at the boy, and he did the same. They said looks could kill, and those gazes felt indeed like tiny stabbings all over his skin.

He met Daphne’s gaze, and she gave him a knowing look, hiding a smirk. His jaw set, and he mouthed, “Don’t start.”

“Today, you will be brewing the Babbling Beverage,” Snape said, forcing Sebastian to look away from the pathetic and horrifying scene next to him. “It’s fairly easy to grasp and should be a piece of cake for students who are supposed to be at Ordinary Wizarding Level, but I’m sure even then, some of you will encounter difficulties if so to speak.” He shot Neville a smug glance, and the boy seemed to shrink into himself. Malfoy snickered.

“Instructions are on the blackboard. You may begin.”

He saw you take out your textbook and search in your bag for — something you probably didn’t find. Groaning, you took out your quill and ink and began scribbling the instructions on the book, crossing ingredients and numbers, adding arrows and switching passages. That took you a whole five minutes before you closed your book and got to work.

He added Alihotsy leaves as his water simmered, and you did the same after a few minutes, glancing at what seemed to be a watch. The leaves had to stew in water for twenty minutes, so he got closer to you out of curiosity.

“Is that a watch on your wrist?” he asked, leaning over your shoulder as you were reading the time. It was worn and a little chipped on the sides, the hands wavering between seconds passing.

“It’s a wristwatch. Do wizards not use them?”

Wizards definitely used watches (he himself carried a pocket watch at all times), but he had never seen them worn as a bracelet.

“It looks fancy.”

You snickered. “Nothing fancy about it. I actually bought it for a cheap price."

That would explain the painfully slow pace of the hands.

"I can see it's barely moving at all," he smirked.

"I know," you stifled a small chuckle. "You could say it’s dying on my watch.”

Sebastian paused then, with a quiet buzz in his brain. There was a moment of realisation on his part before he found himself snorting, insides twisting and cringing at your terrible joke.

And the best part (the absolutely amazing part of it all) was that he would have had the same idea had he been in your place. A lousy, dreadful pun that would make anyone's chest shrivel in embarrassment. And yet he loved it.

"Merlin, that was awful!" He tried to hide the absolute joy on his face. Anyone else — Ominis, Anne, her — would either dismiss or ignore him when he made jokes like that, and rarely laugh. And there you were. It was you saying it, and it was you laughing at it. And it was him feeling warm all over again.

So different. How could you be so different?

"And yet you laughed. That says more about you than it does about me."

It did indeed say a lot about him, Sebastian acquiesced to that, and yet when you turned to smile at him, he froze. And if he hadn't caught a glimpse of your clock, still feebly moving, he would have thought time had too.

Sebastian hadn't realised how close the two of you actually were. He hadn't realised if it happened when he leaned to look at the watch. Or if he got even closer as he laughed.

His vision blurred for a second and his delusional, twisted mind screamed at him to lean in, and lean in, and lean in, because it was her, after all. He could just do it, just to put an end to those fluttering feelings that have been eating at him for months.

And he did. Just a little, enough to feel your breath touch the side of his face. Enough to notice the stray thread coming loose from the shoulder of your cardigan. Enough to notice every fleck of colour in your eyes.

Your eyes.

So different.

It wasn't her.

The rational part of his brain tightened the reins of his body, stopping him immediately like an abrupt braking, and he took a step back, almost stumbling backwards, heart hammering in his chest.

If you were her, you wouldn't have made a joke like that. It just wasn't her personality, he reasoned.

And yet, he wished it was. He wished he could mould the two of you together and keep you both with him. Then he forced himself out of his fantasy: the last thing he needed was to lose his grip on reality more than he had on his own life.

He decided to just sort out his ingredients while he waited, trying to stop the blush from spreading across his face.

He didn't look back at you to see your expression.

"Well, it could have been better." He eyed his potion gloomily. It was dark pink and definitely didn't smell like bubblegum, as it should have, not like yours. He glanced at your cauldron, which was filled with bright red liquid: a perfect job. His shoulders slumped.

“Mm, not bad,” said Daphne as soon as she was beside him. “You were supposed to stir five times before adding Leech Juice, not six.”

“I got distracted," he muttered, sending you a glance. You had asked the other boy — whose name was ‘Dean’ as he heard you say more times than he can count (you had only said his name twice, but it was twice too much for Sebastian’s taste) — to grab you a pair of Billywig stings that were drying in a basket beside him and that you couldn’t reach yourself. You could’ve asked him. He had some spare stings as well — maybe not as many as Dean, he admitted, but enough for both of you.

“Right, right, by your ‘not-crush’ and her… ‘yes-crush’?”

“She doesn’t have a crush.”

“Right, she doesn’t. And it’s definitely not requited either,” Daphne remarked sarcastically, looking at you and the boy chatting merrily. Sebastian thought he might throw up in his cauldron and create a whole different brew altogether.

“Just because they’re chatting doesn’t mean there are romantic feelings involved.” He stirred the potion again in frustration, and the mixture turned purple. He cringed. Thank Merlin, he had already filled a phial to hand Professor Snape.

“Come on, I’ve been in this school longer than you, and everyone knows something is going on between her and Thomas. They’ve been at it since last year.”

“She called him ‘Dean’ before.” He frowned, his stomach churning painfully. Maybe you hadn’t asked him for his Billywig stings because he had eaten them without realising.

“Yes, Dean Thomas,” the blonde rolled her eyes. “You should’ve seen the look on his face when you got close to her to ‘look at her watch’.”

“I was really looking at the watch.”

“Yeah, well. It was priceless either way.”

He felt a wave of pride strike from inside him, but he forced it back down almost immediately. Sebastian wasn’t here to date, and if you and Dean Thomas had something going on, then so be it. He didn’t care, anyway. He didn’t care that you had just lightly punched the boy’s arm, laughing at something he had said (Was he that funny?), or that he had asked you if you could study together this evening (So graceful), or that you had said ‘Yes’ and he had told you to meet him in the Library (That was his brand).

Sebastian had promised himself to stay away from you, and that’s exactly what he was planning to do.

But he had also promised himself to catch up on his studies, so how bad could it be if he ‘followed’ you there?

And the Library was a public place, open to any student, so how bad could it be if he accidentally sat near your table? Or at it?

“Please, don’t.” Daphne’s voice brought him back.

“Don’t what?”

“Follow her to the Library tonight. That would be pathetic. And stop staring , it’s creepy.”

Sebastian just wanted Daphne to stop walking around him and hitting all the right spots. Was she a Legilimens or what?

“I—I wasn’t planning to.” His face flushed with his lie, and he sighed deeply again. “I just... I mean, I need to study too. And I wasn’t staring.”

Daphne sighed, dropping the subject. He suspected she thought it was no use arguing with him. He was actually glad for that reasoning.

"Come on. We still have another hour to go through. Try to pay attention.” She said tiredly.

You had left the class with the Gryffindor that day, leaving Sebastian absolutely fuming like his messed up potion he had half a mind to dump into Dean's morning pumpkin juice.

[Read more]

Taglist:

@lovely-maryj @yuzuhasbae @mosf13 @rbfacee @prichuchan-blog @h0neeyy @lina-prongs @moonlightsolo @ninicol @gayandfairycore @nanako-sakura @epicy0n @shiro-from-cafeberry  @pugsnotdrugs92  @cappsikle  @peacedreamer14

(I'm still having trouble tagging some of you, sorry :( )

[gilbirda]

Another Harley Quinn

Sequel to "The After"

Go to the first fic: "Deal"

A few weeks after the news of Joker's death spread around Gotham, a bonfire was lit on the roof of Joker's abandoned Funhouse. It wasn't rocket science to know who had done it or what she wanted. Maybe it was time for Jazz to have a talk with Harley Quinn.

[Read on AO3][Read on FF]

---

There was only one person crazy enough to go back to Joker's Funhouse and start a bonfire on the roof.

It wasn’t a question of who could be waiting there, or what she wanted to talk about, but a matter of who was going to go there and talk to Harley Quinn, who had been in hiding for a while.

“It’s okay, I can take this one.”

There was silence on the other side of the comms - not that Jazz found it unusual. She knew that Bruce and the others thought of her, she knew they didn’t exactly accept her or liked her, in the case of Timothy and Bruce at least.

She tried to not let it get to her, but Jason was extra sweet anytime they went there for a visit, so he knew she didn’t have a good time on these visits.

“Are you sure?” Batman’s voice betrayed nothing of his actual thoughts. “Harley can be-”

“Positive,” she didn’t let him undermine her authority again. “I’ll deal with her. Will update later.”

Jazz turned off the comms with a sigh, conflicted. She had been taking turns with Jason on who patrols every night, and when it was her, coordination was impossible with the bats - and it didn’t have to do with the tentative truce they had going on.

She was as capable as her partner but every damn time she tried to take initiative and deal with things on her own she was second guessed and subtly questioned.

It was tiring.

Jason knew, of course, and he said he would talk to Bruce about it, but she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it so she asked him to give Bruce a chance to come around on his own.

She really wanted to stay positive, to focus on what was important and what they wanted to achieve in Gotham - family or no family, she followed Jason to the city and no matter how much it hurt to be painfully aware of not being wanted, she would still be at his side as long as he wanted her.

(And he did want her. He wasn’t good with his words, but always tried to let her know he wanted her there.)

It was easier playing the anti-hero of Gotham with him, but sadly tonight Jason was busy and he wouldn’t be able to give her warmth to fight the ghosts of her past.

But for the moment, she could deal with Harley on her own.

She was just a human woman, no matter what others said. No matter what Bruce said. Misguided, yes. Violent, yes. Erratic, also yes.

But evil?

Harley wasn’t like Joker - she cared about things, about Gotham, about people.

Jazz landed on the rooftop of the abandoned building without making a sound, but still made her steps noticeable for the woman looking up at the stars.

“You cannot see stars in Gotham,” Harley commented, munching on some food. “It’s a shame. Smores?”

The Ghost removed her mouth cover and sat down next to the woman, accepting the freshly made smore.

It was delicious.

(Danny would have liked it.)

“That you cannot see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Even in the darkest night with thickest clouds there is that invisible light.”

Harley pondered her words for a second, humming. Her expression betrayed nothing of her thoughts.

“Is that what you are? An invisible light?”

Jazz hadn’t said that with that meaning, but didn’t want to elaborate. She shrugged.

Harley’s eyes zeroed on the gesture. She hummed again, tilting her head, observing her as much as Jazz was observing the rogue.

“Is he really dead?”

“Yes.” After a moment of hesitation, she added: “I killed him myself.”

It would be too much information to share that the Spirit of Gotham possessed her body and used her as an instrument, a conscious puppet consenting to be a medium for revenge. Gotham wanted the clown dead, and Jazz was more than happy to help.

Harley narrowed her eyes. “He has been back before.”

“Not this time. He is not coming back, I swear.” Jazz shoved the rest of the cooling smore in her mouth, her mind going back to the feeling of Joker’s warm blood on her hands, on her face. It was everywhere, her vision completely red. “Slit his throat so he wouldn’t have the last laugh either.”

That had been all hers, though. She found his voice annoying as hell.

The other woman threw her head back and hollered at the night sky, unbothered by the noise. She had a nice voice, a nice laugh. More authentic than the other clown. Whoever considered her to be a mere sidekick, a bland copy of Joker, never heard her laugh.

“Good riddance.”

Jazz nodded, sharing the sentiment.

“Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

Harley laughed again. “I like you, girlie.” She shook her head, as if trying to also shake away the heavy air that had been covering her like a shroud. “Did you make it hurt?”

Jazz watched as Harley made another s’more at the bonfire, vaguely registering the kindle was all rubble from the Funhouse. Her eyes stayed on the burning smiling face of the Joker, maybe a poster or something, remembering his face as he realized he wasn’t going to bounce back from her attack.

“I think it hurt more to know he wouldn’t make a spectacle out of it. We kidnapped him directly in front of Black Mask’s face and then killed him in an abandoned building no one cared about.”

Jazz accepted the new s’more, blowing on it to cool the melted sugar down.

Joker had pleaded, he had begged, he had offered cash. He had offered her a 50% cut of his operations. He had asked if Red Hood paid her enough for this. If he was worth it.

If he had anything else to say about her partner, she didn’t know, since that’s when she decided to cut his vocal chords.

“And if someone saw, they only saw Hood’s baiting Batman into direct confrontation. He is the flashy one for a reason. I take care of the covert stuff.”

Harley hummed, finishing making her own s’more.

“Does he- I mean, not that I’m trying to meddle or anything - For reals! I just… you know, I just-”

“Just ask it, I’m not going to get mad.”

The woman didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway.

“Does he treat you right?”

Honestly? She should have expected the question, given current company.

Jazz knew what people whispered behind her back, and it wasn’t just the “Ghost” identity they had given her already.

Hades and Persephone, Bonnie and Clyde… Joker and Harley. As they settled into the roles of Heads of the Crime Underworld of Gotham, it was inevitable that their story got romanticized to hell and back. It didn’t help that they weren’t hiding their relationship - many times they had held hands and leaned on each other in places they could be seen, and people talked in the Underworld. Damn gossips.

They didn’t mind whatever people said about them, but comparisons were inevitable, and it didn’t surprise them when rumors of a new Prince of Crime and his own Harley arrived to their ears.

Soon it was obvious that the Ghost was no Harley, that she had an equal role in the new organization, that she was as deadly and in charge as her partner; but the damage was already done. People were a bit rougher with her, expecting her to fold, expecting her to crumble and call for “her boo”.

Expecting her to go insane.

“I mean, not that I could actually give any legal advice,” Harley continued talking when Jazz didn’t say anything, “my license was revoked. I’m just- Well, I don’t know what I wanted to do, actually.”

“He treats me well.”

Harley abandoned all pretense and turned to fully look at her in the eyes.

“Are you sure, honey? I’ve heard-”

Jazz hummed, lifting one hand to stop the other woman. “Whatever you heard is not true. Him and I… we understand each other. And our relationship is based on trust.” At Harley’s raised eyebrow, she added: “Is not easy, it is not without its problems, but distrust almost cost us everything once already.”

Silence fell on them as they looked at each other, analyzing each other.

“You love him.” A nod. “And he loves you.”

“Without doubt.”

“He told you? With actual words?”

“Yes.” She looked away. “Many times.”

Since that day where they worded their actual feelings, it came easier and easier to say it. She said “I love you” when he made her favorite tea, he said “I love you” when she cuddled to his side to read on a quiet afternoon. He said I love you without words more often than not, with kisses and touches and soft gestures - but he noticed she enjoyed it more when he said the words.

Jazz felt her cheeks burn thinking about it. It was still quite new, but not unwelcome; she really enjoyed his smooth voice dipping lower when he said those words in the dark of the night, when they were in bed.

“So it’s real.”

“Huh?”

Harley laughed again, giggling into her hand. “You really love him.”

Jazz didn’t know what to respond so she didn’t say anything.

“Good.” She nodded a few times, decided. “You guys can stay, then.”

Both chuckled at the idea. If it seriously came to it, Jazz was confident she could overpower Quinn, even more with Jason at her side, but the sentiment was nice. It was good to know that there were people in Gotham ready to fight if another Joker rose to power.

Jazz felt the presence before Ivy made her appearance, but she didn’t act on it. Better to not act wary or antagonistic, first impressions and all of that.

“Darling,” Pamela’s voice was smooth like honey, but hid as many thorns as her vines. “What are you doing talking to The Ghost?”

The exasperation as she said it made it sound like this was a common argument.

“Red!” Harley launched herself to the woman’s arms, hugging her as hard she could. “I just wanted to have a chat.”

Ivy hugged her girlfriend back, but her eyes stayed on Jazz’s, distrust evident in her expression.

“We are cool, we are cool!” Harley insisted. “Just needed to check a few things but we are besties now, right, Ghost?”

Jazz stood up in one movement, smiling at the pair. It was no secret that these two were together, and the amount of mischief they got up to was astronomical - but neither actually had stepped on their Crime Empire’s toes, so they never had to interact before.

“The bestest of friends.”

“See? I told you there was nothing to fear-”

Jazz ignored them when her phone pinged, taking it out to see who was writing to her. Jason, checking in that Harley hadn’t tried anything suspicious and if she was okay. She texted back that everything was fine and that Harley was actually very fun to talk to.

>Good

>There’s pizza for dinner btw, and I made extra dough

Was he implying…?

>> Are you sure?

> I think it’s time we introduce ourselves to the Sirens

They had discussed revealing themselves to other rogues, the ones they could make some kind of functional network with. They didn’t have to be friends, but a certain amount of trust so they stayed put and didn’t try anything funny like undermine their authority or try to overthrow them.

The Sirens were a good first option. Never after making a power play but always ready to make deals with the big fish in case it came in handy later on.

“I said, he’s cool!” Jazz looked up to find Harley pouting and stomping her foot a bit. “Hood is not like him.”

“Because she said so?” Pamela pointed at Jazz. “No offense.”

“None taken. Actually, you guys can meet him in person if you want? He is making pizza and said there’s enough for everyone.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes.

“There’s stuff for a vegetarian one, if you wish.”

“I want mine with extra pepperoni!” Harley lifted her hand, all smiles and excitement, nothing like the worried abuse survivor Jazz found making s’mores in the cold night. “And olives. Do you guys have olives?”

“I can ask.”

Both turned to check on Pamela, Harley’s puppy eyes doing wonders to make the woman cave in.

“Just one pizza and we are gone.”

Jazz smiled as Harley cheered. It was nice seeing Harley so happy, so alive. She never met her back when she was still with Joker, but she had seen enough footage to see the difference now.

It made sense that she was worried that another Harley Quinn situation could happen to her. It felt nice, having someone care for her like that.

Like an older sister.

(Was this how Danny felt?)

Jazz shook her head. Being stuck in the past was no good, is not what Danny would have wanted of her. She was sure of it - he would have laughed at her being all fuzzy thinking about her boyfriend, smiled at her trying to be a serious crimelord, and enjoyed flying around Gotham’s skyscrapers with her.

Some days, it was difficult to keep that in mind.

Today it was easy, though, thinking about the warm kitchen waiting for her, thinking of Jason humming to a song on the radio as he prepared the pizzas, a safe haven from all the noise and the fights for power, and Batman’s distrust and Tim’s subtle poking for details about her brother’s death.

“Pizza!” Harley screeched, jumping into Ivy’s arms so she could carry her towards their destination.

Jazz smiled, stomped on the bonfire to kill it off, and jumped from the roof without checking if they followed.

Jason was safe. Was quiet. He provided a comfortable silence where she could cry and laugh and mourn and experience joy without the pressure of honoring Danny’s memory or not. Jason never expected her to. He never expected her to be anything. Sweet, sweet nothing.

There was no one else she would build a Crime Empire with.

---

Back to Main Archive

Back to Danny Phantom Archive

Do you like my stuff? Buy me a Ko-fi!

[animatronic-confessions]

ppl are using this blog for drama bullshit n maybe if it’s stressing you out it’s time to deactivate it. if its just causing discourse and harassment against users its not doing much good. the fandom is a cesspool and letting ppl talk about stuff anonymously gives a false sense of security in sharing weird shit. you can’t excuse ppl shipping a minor character with an adult yet ppl feel comfortable sharing that they do so bc its anonymous :/

well hey there slow down anon. I wouldn’t say what has happened is exactly drama besides the last submission (and like 2 others I have not posted) trying to stir the pot. And yes I got a bit stressed, but I also stress easy and I know that. I have no plans to deactivate this account, if anything it’ll just slow down posting. I’m new to modding an account of this nature, that’s why I wanted to be honest, make a post address that I was going to take a small step back, and evaluate my next moves.

There has only been one person actually trying to using this blog to harass people and I have already dealt with that situation. as for discourse? most of it hasn’t been serious at all and hadn’t affected me in particular as mod, it’s primarily just people ranting about how they feel about ships or another munch hater or whatever, not a big deal. I expected as much making this blog.

there are plenty of confessions that I have loved reading and there are plenty more that are fun and lighthearted.

now if you’re calling the entire fandom a cesspool because of the last submission and perhaps the unposted ones? I don’t think that generalization is fair, as people have been generally kinda to me. yes there are problems and bad people amongst fans but thats to be expected with most fandoms. and yeah Anons will do and say whatever because they’re anonymous, but they aren’t all harmful. I mean, you chose to send this in as an anon too.

as for the last bit of your message, it came to light in the time since I posted that ask that the submitter is not actually interested in the ship and was not emboldened by some anonymous confession blog to share, but that they sent the submission as bait. not too much better of a reality but better to know there aren’t as many openly odd people in this side of the fandom.

either way. I felt I should reply to this ask since it addressed my last post. sorry every time I talk it’s long, I feel I should be thorough about all this. The queue is still paused for right now and I’ll update when I unpause it.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

WIP tag game!!!

Lamb Loose 👁️👁️ (u know me very well)

(hehe I do know you dear 👀)

so, I will try to use my (nonexistent) pitching abilities to both: 1) introduce new people to what I’m currently working on; and 2) give you (yes you Fifi) some more intel to munch on while you wait for the next update. let’s see how it goes.

1) how it began:

it was a dark and stormy night when I finished the drama Evilive, in mid-November of last year, and I couldn’t sleep. for days I couldn’t stop thinking about the characters and I decided to put my Word of Honor big fic on hold to give this new fandom a chance. the plan was to finish everything around the 80k words mark but.. oh boi. I knew myself. I knew I wasn’t gonna cut it, verbose as I am, so I decided to be diligent about it: I took 1 month to plan this fic at the best of my abilities before I started typing like a maniac on my laptop.

at the end of the month I posted the first chapter and since then I woke up at 5am (almost) every single day to chip away at this project. long story short: it changed my life. not in a big way, it didn’t magically get me a super fancy job or a stable paycheck. none of that. but it made my life significantly better.

because you have to know that, before I decided waking up at 5am was a good idea, I was so used to be dreading the new day that it was messing with my brain. I didn’t want to go to sleep because “then another day would have started” without me enjoying myself even a little bit. but the difference between going to sleep at 3am (to wake at 7) and going to sleep at 11pm (to wake at 5) made me look forward to the new day time and time again. that way, if I manage to fall asleep on the right time every day, I get to start a new morning doing what I love most: writing.

this came at a cost, however, bc apparently waking super early is bad for my blood pressure (?? rude and biphobic of my body to do me so dirty, if you ask me >:/ like.. hello??) and I get (almost daily now) a sensible energy drop around lunchtime but it’s worth it in my book. this fic turned me into an optimist and I’ve always been a realist at best.

cons of this project: the fandom is tiny. so tiny infact that there are not many “work in progress” fics besides mine on ao3 ;—; I remember this being the case for Beyond Evil too, even if I was just a casual reader at the time, back when it first aired: we were starving for new content and I recall translating Korean fanfics into English just to have someto dig my teeth into xD

moreover, I tend not to read for the fandom I’m writing for, because I’m a sponge and (like my friend Amethystina said once) “I don’t want to accidentally steal someone else’s idea” just because I have shit memory (I’ll admit I caved at the beginning of 2024 bc I was in a bad place mentally and I read a couple of one-shots on Evilive, it’s ok, ik. I forgot the majority of them anyway, I just know they were lovely and their authors very smart indeed). so it’s a very lonely process! I churn up content, I don’t consume content, I wait for comments, I joyfully reply to comments and then, if I want more human interaction I have to (*checks*) come up with more content?? ahah. Ik it doesn’t work like that, and that I have to put effort in talking with other people in the fandom for it to become larger.. but this is why I do these tag games :D to engage with other lovely people in fun activities like these! good thing this fic keeps me going, bc I would be lost without it.

the general plot idea comes from a need I wanted to see fulfilled: I wanted to read a story about a group of women going apeshit crazy on the world. no repercussions, absolute power, no remorse. women from different levels of society, different ethnicities, different nationalities, different sexualities just.. being allowed to do whatever they wanted. I wanted to explore the pros and cons of such circumstances and yet I didn’t want it to be merely focused on that alone. I also wanted to point out how every person is capable of evil and that there still needs to be a moment in our life when we choose to be better instead.

one thing that made me side-eye Evilive specifically was.. well, the lack of women. there are 3 adult women in the whole drama taking some sort of role inside the story and all of them felt rich with the implication of a personality underneath, but no actual character to be seen. I love all 3 of them, from the “wife”, to the “mother”, to the “femme fatale” as they are, yet they still are flat compared to the other people in the show, even the more stereotypically evil or corrupt among them. I needed more, so more I made.

in addition to this, I really wanted to write from the point of view of a nasty, selfish man who has been corrupted by power long enough to have forgotten how to be human again. someone who believes they can fix it all by taking revenge on the person who turned them into a monster.. not realizing they had the potential to become a monster all along and never noticed.

Lamb Loose may be a “fix-it” of sorts based on the happenings (and the finale) of Evilive, but I also think it can be some sort of Atonement Arc rather than a Redemption Arc all in all: just because you become self-aware of the evil deeds you’ve put in motion and want to be better now.. doesn’t mean you can redeem yourself for the sorrow you caused. and, sometimes I also like characters who don’t change in their (evil/selfish) ways but somehow still learn to broaden their perspective after meeting new people. restoring one’s trust in humanity is hard, but maybe it can start by looking into our own selves and look for humanity within us first and foremost.

Han Dong Soo as a character seemed the best option for me, even if it is challenging to write from his POV at times. some of the things he thinks and does are truly horrendous to me personally, but it’s a necessary step towards understanding someone as bad as him in my opinion. not to justify his actions, but to learn how to recognize them in other people instead.

there’s also horny thoughts, not gonna lie, but those feel more like an extension of all that Han Dong Soo as a person has repressed along the years. so, in a way, the sexual tension is just another character in the script, unnamed and all-encompassing, but never at the center itself. since Han Dong Soo is also an unreliable narrator, I can play with him and make the reader question everything he is going through at the same time, which is fun to me :)

2) a treat for Fifi bc she was patient and read to this point eheh:

dear, ch16 may not be full of plot-relevant quests but there’s a lot of yearning involved 👀 and I know it’s tough to wait for something more juicy to happen 😥😔 but I’m finally seeing the end of the big draft (working on ch31 now, aiming to finish the whole thing at ch40 ending a ch37 was too optimistic of me apparently ahah) and I promise you it will be absolutely worth it.

sometimes I feel very dejected about this project, bc it’s taking forever and I absolutely want to finish it before the end of the year :(

but your constant support and care are one of the reasons I keep going 💪😤💘 your art is extraordinary in itself, but your enthusiasm for this fic truly has made me appreciate living in the moment and enjoy the process more and more. so thank you dear for always cheering me on and for indulging me with your lovely comments and messages :)

I’ll see you very soon :D (I’ll reply to your comments and DMs as soon as possible! but I wanted to give you a little something today)

- Niki out :*

[bbyquokka]

Your writing makes me sob cos you portray the members so well!!! ❤️ I just read your announcement about the amount of Felix requests you’ve been getting! I just find that so cute and amusing for some reason sksksks but as much as I wanted to request him, I would like to request a Han scenario instead ☺️

Han x (fem) shy reader kissing you non stop in front of the members and you’re just a shy blushing mess and he just finds it so cute ☹️ then out of no where you get really bold and kiss him forcefully straight on the lips and he gets super flustered.

everyone just loves felix, ahahah 😂 thank you for your request. i hope its what you expected. lemme know your thoughts and opinions about it – i welcome all feedback!

— promise?

→ PAIRING: Han Jisung x fem!reader

→ GENRE: fluff

→ SYNOPSIS: you make jisung promise you to start writing those lyrics changbin needs, all with the touch of your lips

→ WARNINGS: – none

→ WORDS: 0.6k

→ have a request? send it to me here. read my rules to learn about my guidelines before submitting requests! | 2811 update

Feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

→ m.list — → you can also read it on my ao3

"You are so cute!" Jisung kisses your lips sweetly. You blush, looking at your feet shyly

"T-Thank you, Sungie." Jisung grins, kissing your flush cheeks.

"Dude, stop! I'm trying to eat!" Changbin whines, making fake gagging sounds. Jisung rolls his eyes.

"It's not my fault I have the worlds sweetest, most adorable girlfriend." You fiddle with your fingers, butterflies exploding in your stomach.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways." Changbin slurps his noodles before drinking some of the broth, "Have you finished writing those lyrics?"

Jisung looks to the side sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You giggle, knowing full well he 'forgot.'

"Yeahhh, about that…"

"Don't tell me you forgot again." Changbin sighs, placing down his chopsticks. You steal a piece of Jisung's food, giggling innocently before popping it inside your mouth and chewing.

"You hungry, baby?" He ignores Changbin, his focus on you. You nod slowly, swallowing your food before speaking.

"A little." 

"Here." Jisung picks up some food on his chopsticks, bringing it to your mouth. He places a hand underneath, catching any bits of food that may fall. You open your mouth and take the food off his chopsticks, munching it slowly.

"Thank you!" You giggle. Jisung hums, kissing your cheeks gently before grinning.

"Adorable." He mumbles.

"Dude! Did you not hear me??" 

"Huh?" Jisung looks up at Changbin, who sighs softly.

"The lyrics?" 

"Ohhhh! Yeah I forgot, but I promise I will write them!" Jisung wipes his mouth clean of any food residue.

"When?" Changbin asks, seeming a little impatient.

"Tonight." It was more of a question than a statement. Jisung was playing with your fingers, stroking them gently and bringing them to his lips to plant a gentle kiss on them.

You couldn't help but flush pink, your body heating up, your heart skipping beats. You watched the two men bickering; more like Changbin giving Jisung a lecture, about how important the lyrics are and that they're needed asap.

Jisung wasn't concentrating though, he was too busy kissing your fingers, palm of your hand, your wrists; anywhere he lips could touch he would kiss. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, your heart thumping against your chest. Your cheeks maintain that soft, pink colour.

"Sungie, I really think you should listen to Binnie." You whisper shyly, giggle when Jisung rolls his eyes.

"See! At least  y/n has a brain!" 

"Shut up." Jisung whines, feeling like he has a target on his back. He looks at you and pouts, "I thought you were supposed to be on my side, baby."

"I am Sungie, but judging from what Binnies has been saying, it sounds important." Jisung whines, pouting.

"Fine." He sighs in defeat.

"Promise?" 

"I promise!"

"Good." You giggle before leaning forward and locking your lips with his, a new wave of confidence washes over you as you move your lips against his in a sweet, yet passionate kiss. Jisung feels heat creeping up from his neck to his cheeks, his mind failing to understand what's happening.

After a few minutes, he closes his eyes, moving his lips in sync with yours. You both forget where you are, Changbin's unpleasant gag noises fading in the background.

You hum softly, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you deepen the kiss by pushing your tongue inside his mouth. It's met with his own paired with a low groan. Saliva and breath mix together, heat rushing down south for Jisung.

He pulls away slowly, an innocent giggle falling past your lips as Jisung covers his semi-hard cock with his hands, cheeks turning a deep red. 

"I-I, Uh, what was that?"

"A taste of what's to come if you keep your promise."

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @purple-belle | @laylasbunbunny | @dilucpegg3r | @chanssmiles | @meltheninja13