#exhausting. that words gets thrown around a lot when i describe the patterns of my thoughts. exhausting. and it is i guess. tho id say its

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Someone Saved My Life

(Jack x Rin Davies, Pt 1)

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: nothing just intimacy, implied sex and a bit of angst thrown in for funsies

A/N: Jack takes Rin to the Yorkshire Moors for their first holiday together. After all they've been through together, they could use the time away. And yet their first night ends with the arrival of an unwanted guest. ((Totally didn't plan on writing anything let alone another story for the two of them. Was going to try to work on an Ivan story, but I tossed around this idea for months now, and it just felt right? Self indulgence is my new name when it comes to writing!))

Things weren't always perfect between Jack and Rin. Jack had days where he slipped back into isolation. The sadness would swell and he wouldn't sleep. Rin knew those were the times he was surrounded. Overwhelmed. And while he mostly ignored the dead, she could feel when they simply refused to ignore him.

They would come in droves and scatter about any room Jack was in. Crammed together like sardines in a can all shouting for messages to be passed to the living. Sometimes Rin would give him a wide berth, the death and decay crawled along her own skin. She would dress with every inch of her skin covered and attempt to sleep alone while Jack banished himself to the sofa. Those nights resulted in him exploding with anger and shouts of desperation to be left alone.

The guilt would wash over Rin. They're a couple, she would remember. Partners. Not just lovers and friends. You take the worst of one another as your own, and she could ACTUALLY do that for Jack. Letting him be was not a choice anymore, no matter what he believed.

Rin would go and gently talk Jack down into her lap. His thick mass of waves and curls against her bare thighs would be sweaty. He would curl on his side with a hand under legs instead of his cheek. His other by his mouth so he could anxiously chew on the already devastated thumb nail. She knew his eyes would be jammed shut.

Rin would brush the curls off Jack’s forehead with fingertips. Fingers that traced delicate and light patterns over his temples and cheeks where they wiped away tears as she hummed. Her thumb soft along his lips before they ran back up where she would press her index, middle, and ring finger into his temple. Then she would sing and fill his head with warmth and love to bring the light instead of death.

“Someone saved my life tonight..” And Rin would look up and around at them all. Her voice came out soft and full of affection. She would narrow her eyes in their direction. Silently chastising them all the while comforting Jack.

His body relaxed as she continued, “You almost had your hooks in me. Didn't you dear. You nearly had me roped and tied. Altar bound, hypnotized, sweet freedom, whispered in my ear. You're a butterfly, and butterflies are free to fly. Fly away..” Her hand would sweep in a wild gesture along the lot of them. He would be asleep, and she would be alone with the shock of the departed that they had another to see them.

As long as Rin connected with Jack he wasn't alone in his ability. They discovered that with Finch. Jack was the conjurer; Rin the conduit. A hundred years ago they would have been rich in the spiritualism movement. Now they were labeled mental and mad and stuffed full of chemicals, their gifts silenced.

Never again for either of them, Rin would hold back the dead so her love could sleep and get peace. When she interfered the protection emanated from her. They would stop shouting, stop begging, just.. stop. Rin would flick her hand like she was casting a powerful spell, her eyes set in determination. Then they would be gone.

Then there were times like this. When Jack closed up his shop with a sign that said “I'm on Holidays. Dunno when, I'm almost thirty and this is my first one.” He put himself and Rin on a train up to Yorkshire where they hailed a cab to what was theirs for the next month.

Rin gazed in delight at the two story stone cottage. It was covered in ivy and moss with a carved stone fence and a picket gate. There was a little English rose garden off to the side of the house, and wildflowers simply everywhere else. In the hills beyond stood grazing cattle and a pond. Behind the hills of Yorkshire.

“Oh, Jack,” it was just a breath that managed to escape her.

“D’you reckon it's alright?” he scratched his shaggy head. There was worry in his green eyes as he glanced towards his partner for approval.

Rin’s eyes met Jack’s, and she slipped her ungloved hand inside of his. Their palms together, she squeezed. “This is stunning,” she hoped to reassure him. Her gratitude and pleasure flowed from her body to his through her touch.

Jack had just bent to kiss Rin when someone interrupted them and cleared their throat. A feminine voice shouted, “Yoo hoo! Hello!”

The couple turned to see a stout, round faced cheerful old woman in the garden. She wore a wide brim straw hat, an old dress and an apron. Rin was reminded of a human Mrs. Potts as the elder smiled wide.

“Aren't you a delight!” she beamed. Making her way to the gate she stopped. “I'm Mrs. Barrow. My husband, Henry is round back in the barn. Oh it's been AGES since we've had newlyweds.”

Jack's cheeks pinked, but Rin giggled. “No. We're not married.”

“Oh, sinful little doves.” The old woman winked. “By the looks of him, I can see why.” She fanned herself dramatically and Jack now turned red. He scratched at his head even harder whilst his eyebrows disappeared in his hair.

“This is Jack, and I'm Wren. But you can call me Rin! Are you the caretakers? Is this your house? We're on our first holiday together.” The words tumbled out of the young woman before she could stop herself.

“Oh no, little Wren. Henry and I..” Rin had let go of Jack's hand to shake Mrs. Barrow’s. The moment she let go, the old woman disappeared. Rin gasped and turned to her boyfriend.

“She was telling us she and her husband did live here. Died from the Spanish flu a hundred years ago.” Jack gave a little shrug, but a tiny grin had crept into the corners of his mouth. “They love it here so much, neither moved on.”

Rin reached for him, and his hand covered hers. The old woman reappeared. “Sorry, Missus. I didn't know?”

She laughed heartily in response, “Sometimes Henry and I forget we're dead. Never had someone who could see us before. Let alone a couple. The moors are full of ghosts, mostly long gone. None of us here for a bother, especially since your beau here looks exhausted. Just popped in for a bit of cheek and a greeting. If you need us, give a shout ok?” Then she was gone.

“Why can't they all be like that?!” Jack almost shouted his question.

“Maybe we should move up here where they've had time to get used to it? The ones in Manchester are all.. fresh and selfish and confused.”

Rin pulled Jack towards her for a kiss. His tongue teased her for the briefest moment before he picked her up and carried her in his arms towards the cottage.

“What are you doing?!” she squealed.

“Dunno. Little biddie thought we’re married,” he leaned in to kiss her a few more times. He waggled his eyebrows, “Might as well act like it.”

“Jack, we just got here!”

“I've been ready since we woke up. We’ll have a shag then go out to the pub for a few pints and some fish n chips.”

“Romantic,” Rin rolled her eyes as Jack opened the door around her.

“Oh, you love me!” Jack set her down in the foyer then playfully slapped his girlfriend on the ass.

Rin jumped and bolted up the stairs before he could catch her. “I do!” she called down to him. “What's that vow? Till death do us part?” She started to strip her clothes off to her bra and panties. Her finger made a come here motion before she disappeared around a corner.

Jack's face fell, but only for the swiftest of moments. “Even then you wouldn't be gone.”

------

Rin snuck out of the bed as she so often did after they had sex. Mostly because it was the soundest Jack ever slept with his long limbs stretched out as if she wasn’t there. Or he would envelop her in his arms without a choice. And even though she understood Jack's desire to be with her constantly, sometimes Rin felt smothered.

Now she stood at the foot of the bed to watch Jack's breathing as his sternum rose and fell with a steady rhythm. He laid on his back, arm above his head in a languid position. The sheets barely draped across his hips to reveal the V shape of his pelvis and just a tuft of pubic hair. Rin’s eyes kept going until she felt her heart between her thighs and not in her chest.

“Go take a bath,” her brain scolded her. “Wash off the train and sex before you go out for dinner. You stand here any longer, you'll wake him up by straddling him.”

Rin’s body wavered. I mean, that was an idea. “BATH, ADERYN DAVIES!” At least her inner monologue didn't use her middle name.

Rin closed the door and turned on the hot water. She was lost in thought as it filled. How she and Jack developed a willingness to share their bodies with one another in the light. That she relished how their chests and mouths and skin dissipated into reciprocated emotions. Jack was addicted to it the way she could absorb him and switch places with him. Show him what it was like to be her. Empathy became his heroin.

Rin climbed into the tub and settled against the porcelain. She relaxed her mind and body until only her breasts remained afloat. She never took a bath. Not since her time in hospital when she and Jack met. Where the dead tried to drown them. But she and Jack saved each other.

Maybe because they were nearing the three year anniversary of that awful time, but Rin thought about it more these days. She held her hands above the water and ran her scarred fingers over the further damage she had done to herself. The long jagged line from her wrist to forearm. Usually she wasn't quite THAT bad off when she tried to commit suicide, and even now she couldn't remember what was her trigger that day.

“There's not even a word to describe how bloody melancholy suicides are when they come ‘round,” Jack would say. “Maybe desolate?”

“Did you ever try?”

“Not that I remember. Didn't wanna upset Emma. Always seems so messy. Guess maybe I was doing it slowly though, the way I lived. We're ok now, right?” he would ask and kiss her hand.

“We're diamonds, Jack,” she would respond, "Unbreakable.”

Now Rin knew he was in the doorway. It was hard to sneak up on her if you gave off too much emotion. Currently Jack was as warm and comforting as the water she floated about in.

“You alright?” his sleepy voice carried a trace of concern.

Rin looked up and back at him, her fingers still on her scar. “Yeah! Just thinking about us. This.”

The air shifted. A wicked grin played across Jack's face as he walked around the side of the tub. His naked body in full view. Rin’s face flushed and her heart raced, but she kept her composure on the surface as he stepped in to join her. His hands on her waist drew her into his lap. She threw her arms around his neck as they held onto each other tightly. Jack pressed his lips to Rin’s neck where he kissed a trail down over the curve of her shoulder.

“Jaacckk,” she whinged. “Come on I was sat here having a think, and you’re like a teenage boy with this!” She tried to hide a moan when he bent her back to capture her breast in his mouth. “Bless,” was her response.

“I can't help it!” he teased from between them. “I have so much lost time, and you’re so bloody sexy.”

“Will you put that thing away!” Rin’s voice was louder, but still had laughter in it. “C’mon Jack. This should be sweet and romantic. Somehow you always turn it into a porno.”

“I can't help that my,” Jack pointed his finger towards the water and whistled, “likes you. Loves you? Always wants to be in you.”

“Cock, Jack. It's called a cock. Shouldn't it be used to me by now? It's been almost a year.”

Jack stopped teasing Rin. He looked at her seriously now. Those green eyes seemed to search her soul as they moved back and forth over her face. “One year?”

“Yes.”

“I can't believe I had forgotten you all the time between..” his voice trailed off.

“It's ok,” Rin spoke softly.

Jack turned his bottom lip out, “Now I'm sad. So we should shag in this bathtub, then I won't be!”

Rin groaned for a long time after that. “No!! Sex in hot tubs or bath tubs or pools isnt the best. Water is a shite lubricant, trust.”

Jack pushed her away and feigned disgust. “Have you shagged in them before?”

“Once or twice.”

“With Roland?”

“What?! No! I told you we only had sex once. Then he left LITERALLY the next day. Why are you so weirdly jealous of him? It wasn't my first time. I've been with loads of men.”

Rin sat back again on her side of the tub. She reached for the body wash on a shelf, and started to use it on her arms and chest. Her eyebrow arched as if she was trying to challenge Jack to get angry at her sexual history.

Jack pulled his knees to his chest. “Are you hoping I get pissed that you've had sex with other guys? Of course you have, you're beautiful. Roland is just so.. Roland.”

“Fair play, but he has a gift like we do.”

“Ghosts and music. Worst super powers ever,” he mused.

Rin opened her arms and motioned Jack to settle in between them and her legs. He turned and laid down with his back completely pressed into her. She kissed his cheek then gestured for him to tilt his head back with her finger under his chin. Jack obeyed with his eyes closed.

Rin cupped water in her hand and poured it over his hair. She repeated the process a few times before he sunk down under the water. She marveled at how long his hair was when wet or straightened. At how long his arms and legs and torso were as he held on to her own knees that were drawn up around him. At how far he had come from the man drawn into himself high, on psych meds, with dirty fingernails and rough cheeks. Now he was open and present and relaxed in her arms.

“Birdie,” Jack started calling her that out of a desire to give her some kind of nickname. Love and darling and babe weren't enough.

“Jackie?” only Rin got away with that. She put some shampoo in her hand and lathered them together in front of their bodies before she dove into his hair.

“You're making me sad thinking about how poor I was when we met. You know, passing it from yourself to me without meaning.”

“What?” she was concentrating on massaging Jack's entire head. Her light fingers made circles and gentle scratches. Then they widened and she drew bigger circles. She didn't want to leave out one inch of his scalp.

“You're body, it's pressed to mine? You're passing along your thoughts without noticing because we're relaxed. But also, please keep doing that. Holy shit that feels nice.”

Rin kept on. She alternated from soft to a little harder to as much pressure as Jack allowed. He gripped her calf and ankles now wrapped around his waist. She used her thumbs to stroke his temples and rub across his forehead before going back to knead the rest of his head again.

Her attention back to reality instead of just on making sure Jack was cared for, she realized what had happened. “I'm sorry! Sorry. I can block it if you want?” She separated her body from his and unwound her legs. Jack held on.

“It's fine,” he reassured her. “Just let me mind your body too?”

Rin snickered, “You minded my body for about an hour already.”

Jack gave an annoyed smirk and rolled his eyes. “I mean like this!” he gestured towards her washing his hair.

“You can wash my hair. That would be lovely.”

“Why don't I..” he stroked his chin. Jack's eyes settled on the stuff she had spread out on the sink. “Shave your legs?”

“Blimey,” Rin whispered. “Really?” Her heart took to pounding in her ears. She eased him down into the water to rinse everything from him clean. “Jack that's very..”

“Intimate?” he was already standing to carefully choose what was her razor and shaving cream. He held them in her direction for approval.

“Actually, yes.” Rin nodded, “And yes. This is really different from shaving your face, y’know. I've got to trust you completely because that is a new blade, and I always nick a damn patch of skin.”

Jack sat back down in the water, placed the razor on the edge of the tub and lifted Rin’s ankle. He pinioned her foot to his chest and bit his entire bottom lip. She felt exposed, made vulnerable by this position. He was looking at the half of her naked body just below the water’s surface. The can of gel faltered as he shook it.

“Jack! You're shaving my legs, not my twat. Eyes on what you're doing!” Rin snapped her finger to catch his attention.

“I can do-”

“Keep speaking, and no sex for two days.”

Jack frowned but sprayed the soap on her shin. He spread it around from the ankle up to her knee before trying to go higher. Rin held up her hand, “Only strippers and sex workers shave that high!”

He snorted and continued on the back of her leg and made sure to get the back of her knee. She was especially ticklish there and jerked her body and giggled as a result. They both could be in trouble: Jack with a sharp object; Rin with the ability to kick him in the sternum if he wasn't careful.

“Better luck if you're facing away from me. You have to shave with the blades towards my knee. You best sit back against me like before.”

“Or,” Jack held the razor backwards with the head towards his wrist. His thumb on the grooved grip as he placed it delicately by Rin��s ankle. The handle was awkward in his large fingers as he took it gingerly and with the utmost of care upward. The blade made a path in the cream as he moved it up to her knee.

Rin inhaled as he did the same gesture again. She exhaled when the razor met her kneecap. Steady breathing with each swipe along her leg. The tip of Jack's tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated. He worked and focused and shifted her calf just enough to get the sides and the back. The only sound in the bathroom was the splish of water when he cleaned the blade after each path.

“Oh,” was all that left Rin’s mouth the entire time. Her eyes never left Jack's face while his own refused to break away from her leg.

“You alright?” Jack finally looked up at Rin just as he was getting a start on her other leg.

Rin shook her head with enthusiasm. Now her turn to bite her bottom lip before a giant smile crawled from ear to ear. “I'm grand! I love you.”

And just like he always did when she said that, Jack looked sheepish. Like he still couldn't believe that any.one would love him let alone a whole family of them. Rin. Emma. Billy. Jerry. They all loved him without condition.

“I love you too,” Jack smiled in kind. It reached his eyes in wrinkled skin in the corners of them. He made his way around his girlfriend’s other leg and realized something had grown inside of him. He was starting to care for himself.

So this is it, Jack thought as he finished shaving Rin’s legs, I think I love myself?

Before he could say anything the doorbell rang downstairs and scared the shit out of them both. They scrambled to their feet and started to dry off in a harried way. In the bedroom, they threw on clothes as the bell rang out again with more insistence.

“Can ghosts ring?”

“No! Not usually. BLOODY HELL WE’RE COMING!” Jack shouted as he rushed down the steps. He turned the light on in the foyer and opened the door. Rin couldn't make out anything but Jack’s shocked voice. “What the fuck are you doing here? You're two weeks early, mate.”

“She.. I should've.. Wren.. I lost my..” the words were broken up by Jack's body.

Rin made her way down and peered around Jack's shoulder. A tired, swollen eyed man stood on the front stoop. His hair was a curly mess; his goatee and mustache looked like a positive fright. She could tell he hadn't been sleeping much. It was the first time Rin had seen him alone in the last year. It was the first time Rin had seen him in PERSON in maybe seven in spite of all his promises.

“ROLAND?!”

Both he and Jack turned towards Rin and shouted simultaneously, “Surprise!”

tag @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @slutforrobbiebro @forenschik @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @nightmonsters @rob-private @badsext @bwritesstuff @frogs--are--bitches

[gh0stlyink]

𝔗𝔦𝔱𝔩𝔢 - ᴴᵘˢʰ, ᴺᵒʷ

𝔉𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 - ᴰʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ ᴬᵍᵉ: ᴵⁿqᵘⁱˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ | 𝔖𝔥𝔦𝔭 - ˢᵒˡᵃˢ ˣ ᵃᶠᵃᵇ!ⁿᵒⁿᵇⁱⁿᵃʳʸ ᴸᵃᵛᵉˡˡᵃⁿ ᵒᶜ

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 - ¹,⁹⁷⁹

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - ¹⁸⁺, ᵐⁱˡᵈ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - ᴱᵐᵉʳʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵍⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍ

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

"It isn't like you couldn't also take a break."

The words of Solas were swimming around in Emery's mind as they trudged through the gates to Skyhold. Even welcomes thrown at them from left and right weren't enough to slate his echoing voice.

I suppose I could have…

They had convinced Solas to stay at Skyhold for this last mission. Emery felt like he had been running himself thin weeks prior, so they wanted him to just take a break, but he decided to use the same argument on them.

Somehow, they had gotten him to stay, saying something to the effect of: "Well, I'm the Inquisitor. I can't just not do my job." Begrudgingly, Solas had relented, but he told them that he hoped they would be back in at most a week. Emery said they would try, and they did indeed.

However, it took them two weeks to complete instead of one. Emery had a feeling Solas was not going to be happy.

Regardless, they were excited to be able to see him again. To be able to listen to his stories of his travels in the Fade. To be able to trail their fingers across his shoulders.

To feel his lips brushing against their neck...

Emery quickly brushed those thoughts away. There were too many people around, and they didn't want to raise any suspicion. They still had some work to do before they turned in for the night, anyway.

That didn't mean Emery couldn't speak around before they headed to Josephine. They spoke to Varric for a while, and he told them about a possible scene in the book he was planning. They spoke to Dorian, who was possibly too curious about Solas, because he asked about whether or not Emery had seen him yet. They said no.

The conversation led them to search for Solas. It didn't matter if Dorian had figured out about their secret relationship. They had already thought about confiding in him, anyhow. He was becoming a dear friend.

When Emery entered the bottom of the library they looked around, only to see that no one was there. They searched around other places in the hold that he would frequent, but he was nowhere to be found.

Finally, they went to Josephine. She generally knew where everyone was.

"Hey, have you seen Solas around? I have a few questions for him?" They asked, trying to be as casual as possible.

"I haven't seen him since this morning," she replied without looking up. "Said something about gathering herbs."

"I see," they were just about to turn around and search even more for him, but Josephine cut stopped them short in their tracks.

"We have a lot of things we need to go over with you, Inquisitor."

And with that, Emery was practically dragged into the War Room. Their advisers knew how hard it would be to get them up in the morning if they had been let go so easily. Of course, Cassandra was the one who had gotten them all to agree to get Emery into the War Room as fast as possible. Only after going over several documents, sending out many orders, and going over resources, they were finally let free.

"It isn't like you couldn't also take a break."

His words were burning, now. They couldn't search for him now; it was impossible. Hopefully, he was waiting for them.

Emery could barely pick up a loaf of bread from the dining room before they escaped through the door to their quarters. The stairs were worse. Every lift of their knee made them want to fall backwards to simply crumple at the base, but the soft promise of their bed kept them going.

Final door. So close... So close... They pushed through, now, and practically fell-

No. They did fall, but they were caught. Caught? Caught by what?

Then the familiar scent filled their nose. The scent of elfroot and that sweet musk they could never describe. Strong arms tightened around them, holding them up from falling further.

They didn't have to look up to know it was Solas who had caught her.

"You seem you have gotten clumsier since our last meeting," his voice soothed, a hand slowly turning circle patterns across their back. The other one had secured the loaf of bread before it had fallen to the floor.

"I'm not clumsy," Emery said stubbornly, as they looked up through their ebony hair.

Solas chuckled and led them to sit in a nearby chair carefully. He placed the loaf of bread on the chair side table cloth, then he crouched down in front of them, taking the side of their face in the palm of his hand. "You look absolutely exhausted," he said more seriously, brushing locks of their hair behind a pointed ear.

"I'm fine. Perfectly fine," they tried to smile widely at him and sit up straight, but a spasm in their back caused them to shrink in pain. "Perhaps...not."

Solas sighed, but smiled warmly. "Lucky for you, I supposed this would be the case." He got up and walked over to a table he had apparently set up with a bowl of water and neatly folded cloths.

"Yes, lucky for me," Emery murmured wistfully. They sounded like they would be able to fall asleep at any moment.

Solas wasn't about to let that happen yet. He was wringing out a cloth from the bowl of water, then brought it over to Emery. "Your day is almost done, Vhenan. Let's freshen you up a bit."

Emery would have moaned from the contact of the warm cloth upon their cheek if they weren't so tired. They couldn't help put lean into the feeling, their eyes closing easily.

Solas put his fingers below their chin and straightened their face. "Do you enjoy making my job harder?" He brought the cloth down their neck, earning an actual escape of breath from Emery's throat. He couldn't help but smile.

"Of course not," came their slow reply, eyes opening lazily to gaze at him.

He brought the cloth up the other side of their neck and along their jaw.

They shivered.

Solas gave them a loving smile, his eyes nearly closing from bliss. "I'm only teasing you," he was brushing lightly over their eyelids now. "You should only worry about resting now. I've got you."

Emery lifted their hand to grab his free one. They ran circles over his knuckles with their thumb. "Sorry I wasn't back in a week."

Solas laughed softly as he stood to put the cloth away. He then made his way behind the chair Emery was sitting in and started undoing the intricate braids that were holding up their hair. "Em, I'm just glad you're here and safe."

Emery sighed happily when his fingers ran through their loose hair, the tips of them working back and forth over their scalp. "Still, I thought we would-"

"Hush now, Vhenan."

His breath was at their ear now, hands moving down their neck and working into the tense muscles. Their shoulders relaxed, head tilting slightly forward.

The only words that were said now were soft spoken elvish. Emery couldn't understand them all, but they were soothing and sent gooseflesh across their skin. They were sure it was loving by the way he was speaking.

Solas was undoing the ties of their clothes now, starting with the pads on their shoulders. He was being so careful. It was as if they were a fragile sheet of glass. He eased the leather down their arms slowly, letting them fall unceremoniously on the floor.

He moved around the chair, fingers trailing along the back of their neck, and began with the ties to their shirt. Soon it had been slipped over Emery's head, added to the pile forming on the floor. He would get to that later, but he was too busy taking in the form in front of him. How they so easily melted into his touch.

He knelt down again in front of them to go for their belt. He wanted them to be able to sit for as long as they could, but it was getting near the time they would need to stand.

Once the belt was undone, he led his palms down their thighs, squeezing them gently as he did so. Emery was beginning to believe he was trying to work them up, but he was only making his way to work on the laces of their boots.

He untied them quickly, sliding them off, then got up and held out his hand. "Come now, I'll take you to the bed."

He didn't have to ask them twice, and they took his hand so he could help them up. He couldn't help himself from pulling them in his arms briefly to brush his lips down their neck.

This earned him a sharp moan, and they almost collapsed forward into his embrace, but he took their hand instead to lead them to the bed. Before he let them sit down, he worked their pants down to their ankles.

Emery sat back and helped him out by lifting their legs so he could pull them completely off. Their foot wrappings we're next, and quick to go. They were only wearing their underclothes now, which was a sheer top and undershorts.

That's when he caught sight of the wound on the back of their calf. "Blackwall told me about the pack of wolves."

Emery leaned forward to cup the side of his face. "That was nearly a week ago. It's basically healed now."

Solas shook his head. "Basically won't do," and with that he got up to get a fresh wet cloth, then came back to wipe at the bite.

Emery winced. Maybe the flesh was angrier than they thought.

"See? If I hadn't caught it fast enough you might have had to amputate your leg," he mused.

"It may be sore, but I know I took care of it enough so that it won't come down to that," Emery laughed, but they couldn't help but to scrunch up their face in pain. It didn't hurt so much to walk with, but touching it out right made it flare up.

"No, truly," Solas lifted their leg a bit higher. "I believe it was at the brink of falling off completely before I came to your rescue.

Emery let out a soft laugh. "You know what, for the sake of my energy levels, I will agree with you," they said, then placed the back of their wrist on their forehead. "Oh, Solas. Whatever would I have done. Without your magical touch I never would have-"

Solas was kissing up from their knee and up their thigh now, which had caught them off guard.

"O-oh-" they could barely get it out before Solas had pressed his lips to theirs; fierce, but soft. It sent a warming sensation through their chest, especially since he was between their legs. The hand that wasn't securely holding onto the back of Emery's neck was holding the back of their knee high up on his waist.

The moment was over quickly, but it had left Emery out of breath and wanting. He had abruptly walked away from them and towards the table with the loaf of bread.

"Wh-where did that come from!?" Emery finally let out, looking at the one before them with bewildered amusement.

"I simply could not help myself, Vhenan," he admitted, and brought the bread over to hand to Emery.

They took it gratefully and ripped a chunk off to stuff in their mouth. “You really are a tease.” they said through chewing.

“There’s more where that came from, I assure you,” he promised, nuzzling their ear affectionately. “Now eat while I bathe the rest of you and get you patched up, my love.”

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

[Authors Notes]

this is a repost of a drabble i posted on my main, and honestly, it was so filled with errors, that i am going to delete it.

also, i want all of my stuff in one place

wattpad | ao3 | fanfiction | main blog | witch blog | consider supporting me<3

[regrettablewritings]

May I ask for 11, 14, 22 and 28 for Benoit Blanc if you don’t mind?

Certainly! Stuff below the cut!

Disclaimer: I personally headcanon Benoit’s s/o as being somewhere on the spectrum. I know not everyone identifies with this so I’ll also be including snippets of otherwise when I deem it necessary for accessibility. Happy reading!

11. What do they hide from one another?: Benoit isn’t really secretive about himself. He may avoid being upfront about his intentions (most often with regards to a case), but even then he tends to come out with the truth eventually, and with such a sense of calm that it’s more like he simply went along with peoples’ assumptions of him. But when you two start seeing each other more seriously, he does feel a tiny bit embarrassed of the fact that he may not be as up to date on all manners of slang, pop culture, etc as he would like to be. It’s not a hidden thing, really; it was a given there would be a bit of a gap there, what with the slight age difference going on. But he’s supposed to be one of the greatest detectives out there, isn’t he? He may not take the title seriously but he surely has some vagueness of an image to uphold, right? He has to have tabs on everything. Besides, deep down, he wants to seem impressive to you. Like I said, it’s not so much hidden . . . but the tab to Urban Dictionary sort of is. You hadn’t even meant to find it, you just needed to use his laptop for a quick moment when -- “. . . Ben? What, uh . . . what’s up with --. . . Why do you need to know what ‘guap’ is?” “It’s for a case, darlin’!” He has since become a little less afraid of asking you what certain terms mean. You, on the other hand, aren’t exactly as candid as your other half . . . (Spectrum Option) You weren’t exactly sure what possessed you enough to think you could skirt by without him noticing. The man was a detective after all; surely he would’ve noticed at some point that there were some things . . . amiss about you. Sure, he could chalk up your difficulty holding eye contact to shyness; everyone used fidgeting devices now, so that you had quite a few on your desk as well as on your person wasn’t anything spectacular. But surely he noticed that whenever things got too loud or rowdy at the station you disappeared; that you seemed to get particularly upset when your system was thrown off; how certain textures were enough to completely rattle you; that you had a speech pattern that could, in a word, be described as  . . . “unique.” Besides that, you knew it was silly to hide the fact that you were autistic: It was nothing to be ashamed of! It was simply how your mind worked and you were doing the best you could with it. And you wanted to say you were doing pretty well in most regards, but past social experiences had a way of convincing you otherwise. Particularly in the romance department. Potential date mates would get thrown off by your seemingly stony expression or occasionally flattened tones; they didn’t always find themselves impressed by your preference of going slow; sometimes your methods of stimming threw them off; and that was if they could even get you to stop being so anxious about certain social interactions. You knew deep down that Benoit wouldn’t be like that; he was far too kind to. But also, what if?! Eventually, before the courting got too, too serious, you felt it would just be better to be honest and open with him about it. You owed yourself that much. Thankfully, you never really needed to know what the “what-if” could be, as it turned out that you were right: Benoit already kind of knew you were somewhere on the spectrum after his first few interactions with you. Having more intimate encounters during your courtship honestly all but confirmed it. This isn’t his first, fifth, or even tenth rodeo wherein he’s encountered and befriended someone who’s neurodivergent, after all. He understands to a point why you wouldn’t necessarily jump to telling him, however, though he’s glad you felt comfortable enough with him to confide that. (Non-Spectrum Option) Honestly, it’s hard to hide anything from the last of the Gentleman Sleuths. He’s so perceptive that even if it meant hiding snacks from him, you’d eventually come back to your desk to find him eating your stash of Craisins. The one thing you have managed to keep a secret, though? Your old fanfiction identity. In your teens, you were scribbling down fics anywhere you could get them: Fanfiction.net, Quizilla, Blogspot . . . On one hand, you thank the experience for giving you practice with proper writing skills, which is part of what earned you the job you have. But on the other . . . they just weren’t the greatest showcase of who you were, young or not. And Benoit does not need to know about the shipping wars you started on accident. Thankfully, Quizilla is gone and nobody really uses Blogspot anymore . . . But sometimes he asks you if you’d ever read or watched books and movies you just so happened to specialize in, or what your thoughts were, and you can’t help but wonder if that blond bastard is on to you.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?: The moment you appear to be under the weather, Benoit’s already activating Mother Hen Mode. He summons the Mama Blanc in him and already has you laying down in bed or propped up on the couch with some quiet music playing or a court procedural drama playing while he’s in the kitchen making homemade chicken soup. If you put up a struggle eating or are too tired to feed yourself, he’s not above feeding you. He’s going to make sure that you eat at least enough to be able to take half a zinc tablet without getting sick, and make sure you drink plenty of water and vitamin C. And God help you if you think you can just do work from home because even if you’re not experiencing the worst cold, he’s not convinced you should be up and about instead of resting. At most, he’ll let you sit on the couch instead of staying cooped up in your room all day. He’ll even join you, often times sitting next to you and reading through files he brought home from his own casework. He doesn’t really mind the close contact in spite of your protests. Which is annoying because when he inevitably catches your cold, he’s more fussy than you are. Not in the man flu fashion, but he’s a lot more stubborn about resting. He knows it’s what’s best, but he’s so used to handling himself over the years that he’s gotten into the habit of doing as much work as he can before dropping, with self-care just happening to take place between his illness naps. You have to actually scold him and hide his files for a bit until he eventually falls asleep thanks to his exhaustion and the medicine you make sure he takes. Because of this, you’re more task-oriented when Benoit is sick. Certainly, you make sure that he’s eating the proper things and taking the right vitamins and medication and getting enough rest, but between all that you’re also making sure that he has less to worry about. You quietly clean around the house, you do the laundry, you run as many errands for him as you can (groceries, dry cleaning, etc), you even meal prep. That way when he gets better, he’s better in a cleaner house with next to nothing to worry about besides the paperwork he’d had taken away from him earlier. As much of a fight as he puts up at first, he truly does appreciate your generosity and kindness. He’d kiss you if it weren’t for the fact that he’s still a bit sniffily.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?: In the filing room. Sexy, right? You were technically still courting at this point but it was undoubtedly clear that things were getting serious. Nobody said anything about it, though. After all, was now, in the middle of a potential scandal, really the best time to talk about going steady? Probably not. Though you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t buzz around in your head all day and all night. You had to be professional about this. Just as Benoit is, you reminded yourself as you watch him reading through the files you’d given him moments earlier. His brow furrowed before slapping the manila folder shut. “Well, that’s a crock of shit,” he muttered. “Hm?” you questioned, perking up. Maybe he needed input? He certainly seemed to be seeking yours more often as of late. You tried not to shiver when he focused those icy blue eyes of his on you. “This doesn’t make any sense,” Benoit explained, giving the file in his hand a gentle flap. “Carters doesn’t even have a history of violence; I sincerely doubt he suddenly became overwhelmed with the temptation to attempt fratricide all over some rather tacky jewelry. Which therefore begs the question. . .” He paused dramatically. “What do you suppose would cause a man to jump from petty theft in high school to murder in his mid-thirties?” You shrugged. “Bad friends,” you half-joked. It gave Benoit further pause. “. . . What ever happened to that accomplice of his? From the petty theft?” he questioned. Obviously, you didn’t have the answers; but the department filing room most likely did. Somewhere amongst the many boxes and cabinets, lined up in crammed and musty-smelling aisles, lay the answer. And, to your dismay, it appeared to be on a shelf a little higher than you were tall, serving as a load-bearing wall against other boxes of files. You grimaced as you arched your feet once more, attempting yet another lurch forward to reach. You weren’t sure who let this section of the filing room get this bad but whoever it was (you were sure it was Debbie; it was probably freaking Debbie), you were going to wring their neck. “(Y/N), really, I insist --” Benoit began, but you were quick to cut him off. “No, no, Mr. Blanc,” you insisted. “I got this.” You couldn’t see him press his lips into a thin line. “You know, it’s perfectly fine to call me by my name,” he said. “Mhm,” you grunted. “’M just . . .keeping it professional.” Dammit! Your fingers had just brushed the edge! Just a bit more -- “This isn’t a situation for HR, I technically don’t really work here,” you heard him chuckle. “And anyway, stop being so stubborn, and let me help.” “It’s fine!” Really, it was: You managed to nudge the box closer. “(Y/N), be reasonable.” You suddenly felt warmth against your back. Oh. Oh, God. He was pressing up against you as he leaned forward. You felt your cheeks burn at the stimuli. With far more ease, he nudged the box close enough to the edge to where it could easily fall into your waiting hands. Unfortunately, any relief was short-lived: Truly, the box was load-bearing. You yelped as the threat of musty cardboard and decades worth of paperwork threatened to fall on you . . . only for it not to actually be carried out. You glanced upward to find Benoit, once again, leaning forward. Just enough to shove the materials further on the shelf. You hear him huff and chuckle. “See? I bet you’re real happy now that I came along, aren’t you?” You turned just enough to glare at him. It didn’t last: Nobody can really find themselves glaring at Benoit Blanc for long whenever he had a smile on his face. At the very least, you couldn’t. He had that effect on you and you wanted to despise it so dearly, at the very least now you did. But you just couldn’t. Nor could you bring yourself to turn your face away as you noticed him leaning in closer. You had to be honest: You never took Benoit for the sort of man capable of performing such a strong liplock. Strong, warm, yet sweet and enticing -- “BLANC!” The sudden cry was more than enough to make you part. There, in the threshold, stood your less than amused superior, arms crossed and glowering. “Do you really think that this is the place to be making out?” Lt. Elliot demanded. You whimpered, hiding your blushing face behind the box still in your arms. He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he scoffed and stormed off, feeling his point had been made. As you began your walk of shame out of the room, you hissed at your newly acquired boyfriend, “This is why I wanted to keep things professional!” To your dismay (and deeply hidden amusement), however, Benoit appeared to be unfazed. If anything, he seemed quite pleased with himself. He chuckled as he placed an arm about your lower back. “Oh, admit it: You didn’t mind being a little unprofessional.” He didn’t need to use his smarts to deduce that, and you hated that.

28. Why do they get jealous?: Benoit rarely gets jealous. He trusts you enough, and he trusts the bond you two share a great deal. But on the rare occasion he exhibits what would be called jealousy, it’s usually because of one of two things: Either A) someone manages to best him at wits or glamor and it appears to impress you, or B) someone younger (and hungrier) than he approaches you. The reasons why these are rare occasions, though, are simple. For the first bit, Benoit is mighty smart. He won’t go as far as to consider himself a downright genius, but he’s aware enough to know that his mind thinks a bit more broadly and rapidly than the average person’s. Sometimes, though, the lifestyle he runs brings him to circles where he must interact with great minds. And sometimes, as you are often his companion for certain circumstances, you may meet, say, an Ivy League alumnus who isn’t afraid to kiss you on the hand as a greeting or give you a grand tour of their vast estate while Benoit has to hold interviews. And as for the second bit, Benoit knows and accepts he’s no spring chicken. He also knows he may not be fast and furious in terms of romance, and some younger folk may find that tedious. The worst case is if that Yale graduate with the big fancy mansion is also around your age. But he also knows you. In the end, any insecurities he might have about his lifestyle or age are squashed because he knows you’re not the sort to just grab onto anyone just because they’re rich, shiny, and new. You’re honest and know what you do and don’t want, and he also knows that even if you’re having internal battles with your thoughts and feelings, you eventually come out with them. That’s how he knows you thought that one heir to the Havington Spa empire was a bit of a pompous douchebag, or why you were bored listening to that one poet who many saw as a prospective Nobel Prize winnter. You try not to get jealous yourself. Maybe you put him on a pedestal, but you certainly see a lot of value and endearment in the likes of Benoit: He’s smart, handsome, understanding, kind . . . Maybe a bit ambitious and odd, but nothing too terrible. He was, without a doubt, one of your favorite people to be around. But sometimes, you worried if he could potentially be another’s favorite as well. There had been the occasional case where his gentleman charm appealed to a woman involved, usually suspects but occasionally they were just vaguely related the the situation and decided to throw their two cents in, if only to have more of a chance to be around Benoit. You couldn’t tell if maybe you were reading too into it, or if Benoit was ignoring them or even flat out oblivious to their efforts, but come on: There’s only so much ignoring a man can do when a lady has her bust pressed up against his arm! But what really drove you nuts was whenever she’d initiate banter with him. One of the best ways to the detective’s heart was wit. And sometimes, to your dismay, these cases would include women who could make hogwash sound like Shakespeare. And that they made it look so easy drove you insane! But luckily, that was about as far as the women would get: The best way to Benoit’s heart was embracing the unusual, which was startling against the backdrop of a prim and proper gentleman they assumed him to be. They’d quirk a brow when he found himself making odd little rhymes, stand by awkwardly as he monologued to himself, and assume he was joking whenever they came upon him singing showtunes or making references to musicals. You, however, responded accordingly: You’d echo his limericks to feel them for yourself, listen and take notes of his allegories so you could contribute your own thoughts, and joined in on whatever song he brought up. In the end, you needn’t really be jealous because he’s already made up his mind: You’re his favorite person. And there isn’t a pair of doe eyes and a thesaurus mouth that’s going to change it. But still: You’d rather not take that risk!

I got carried away in some areas I think . . . But hopefully it turned out okay!

Character Ship Headcanons

[itawonka-creates]

Seabourne Burnouts: Part 7 - Wading

Start [here] or read [Part 6] [Part 8]

Marinette couldn’t sleep despite trying desperately to. She looked over Alya and Chloe sleeping on either side of her, they refused to leave her after what happened. She doesn’t know how much time has passed since getting to the room, if she was honest she doesn’t even know what time it was when she got to bed, and it made her frustrated. She carefully sat up and got out of bed, careful not to disturb her friends. She walked over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her and leaning against the wooden door.

“Marinette?” She looked over at Tikki and frowned. “Marinette-”

“I know, I know. I made a dumb decision.” She sighed and walked over to the bathtub and ran some water, keeping it at a nice warm temperature. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“Marinette, no. What I wanted to say was I’m sorry for not being of more use to you. Unless you become Ladybug, I can’t do a lot unless I reveal myself.” Tikki flew over to her holder and gently rubbed circles on her cheek, “Marinette, I’m sorry this happened.”

Marinette bit her lip and watched as the water began to rise slowly in the tub. “Tikki, am I a good Ladybug?”

“What? Why wouldn’t you be? You’re one of the best!” Tikki flew around to look Marinette in the eye, “Marinette, you’re a natural-born hero! Did you even see how well you handled the situation and how clever your plan was? You are a true Ladybug and I couldn’t be prouder!” Marinette gave Tikki a weak smile and just nodded. She snuck outside to get herself some warmer pajamas to change into and brought them back with her to the bathroom. Tikki knew what was going on, Marinette was starting to lock away her emotions. A common occurrence nowadays and a preventative measure to keep from becoming akumatized, but Tikki knew humans. Humans needed to be expressive and emotional to heal from their traumas. Locking her feelings away like this only left her with a robotic and cold Ladybug. “You know we aren’t in Paris, Marinette.”

“I know.” Marinette knew, she really did, but she couldn’t help it. Her feelings were just being pushed down and it’s become an impulse rather than something she actively and intentionally tries to do. She stripped herself down and sat in the warm water. She noted different things around her. The first was the tub, very expensive looking and deep. She looked around and noted the tile patterns and marble that were scattered around the room. She looked over at the mirror and decided she liked the way the lights were placed around the outer border. She watched the water and sat there waiting for it to get high enough to where her body could be comfortably submerged.

Marinette paid attention to more details around her to distract her from the fact that the warm waters did nothing now that she was like this. Despite the way her scalp hurt from having her hair pulled, she decided she liked the shampoo and conditioner they provided to her and used them liberally. She decided she liked the smell of the body wash she used. She stuck her head underwater to wash her hair and for a brief second that moment she hit the water when she was thrown overboard flashed in her mind. She sat up, most likely causing some of the water to splash out and tried to keep her breathing steady. Four counts in. Four counts hold. Four counts out. Tikki patted the girl’s head, making sure to remind the girl she wasn’t alone. Marinette took a moment to just sit there in the suds to just exist. No feelings, no thinking, just exist with the sensation of the warm water. She couldn’t tell if was helping anymore, she didn’t know if she was cold or not anymore. She sighed and pulled out the bath’s plug. Getting out, drying off, and changing into new pajamas was mechanical and she didn’t think about it. She didn’t think about anything and she didn’t want to.

She put away her towels and dirty clothes and grabbed a spare blanket from the dresser they provided. She held her arm out for Tikki to fly in and hide. She looked over at her two friends one last time and made sure to not wake them as she left. Marinette wandered for a bit, her mind not really present but her body moving towards something. She noted the authorities that were walking around. She watched as they moved around the yellow tape to look into the room that were bombed. She held no expression, even when authorities would ask her questions about why she was wandering around the ship so late. Marinette made her way towards the main deck and heard someone talking.

“What do you mean they disappeared? No, that makes no sense. There’s no reason for that to happen, they don’t have powers!” Marinette could hear the frustration in Dick’s voice and she walked closer to the source of the yelling. “Okay, but those kids belong to one of our staff members. Even the gun?” Dick groaned and ran his hand through his hair, “Please, give whatever footage you have to Batman to review.” He turned and noticed Marinette standing in the doorway watching him talk on the phone. “I’ll call back later. Just bring back the kids and bring Batman the footage. Bye.”

Dick tapped the ‘End Call’ button and walked over to the girl, “Hey, Marinette.” Dick immediately noted the lack of expression, it was creepy. He felt like he was talking to a doll, “Marinette, how are you feeling?” Marinette shrugged under her blanket and held steady eye contact. Dick knew what was happening, he’s been guilty of it a few times. Sometimes the mind can’t handle everything at once and locks it all up, the first time it happened was after his parents died but before Bruce took him in. The uncertainty and grief were too much and he just locked it away. Bruce helped with that, taking care of all his basic needs so he could focus on the emotional stuff. Being Robin helped him find closure and he was always grateful for that. Marinette didn’t have that. Dick sighed and just asked, “Do you want a hug?”

Marinette nodded and pushed herself into his arms. She held on tight and he squeezed her, trying his best to comfort the small girl. That was the weirdest thing for him to notice, her size. During the dinner, her personality was big and when she took charge her presence knew no bounds. Dick forgot how small Marinette actually was and that made him even madder for what she was put through. This was her night and they ruined it. “Marinette, do you want to talk about it?” Marinette shook her head no, “Do you want to sit down? I can keep hugging you, but bending down like this will hurt my back.” Marinette pulled away almost immediately and nodded. She looked a bit concerned, that was good. Dick walked her over to a lounge chair in a nearby sitting area and sat down, patting the spot beside him.

Marinette took her seat and leaned against Dick’s arm, prompting him to put it around her and hold her. Marinette closed her eyes and Dick noted the bags under her eyes. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

Marinette shook her head and sighed. A small voice answered, “No.”

“Hey, I got a word out of you.” Dick sent her a small smile and she gave a polite one back. “I can’t imagine what that was like. You’ve been through a lot today. But I do know what you’re doing right now, the whole emotion thing.” Marinette buried herself more into her blanket and Dick’s side, but she didn’t tell him to stop talking. “I can’t relate to what you’ve been through, but I can relate to what you’re feeling.” Dick thought back to that time in his childhood, “It’s hard. It’s really hard because there’s just so much you feel that your brain tells you it’s safer not to feel altogether. But it only helps for a little bit, keeping you functioning until you find a time to go through those feelings.” Dick looked down at Marinette and noticed he had her full attention. “I’m a good listener, Marinette. If you want, we can go through some of it right now.”

Marinette couldn’t believe it, he hit the nail on the head. Hearing him describe what was happening inside her head so well really did it for her. She tried, she tried not to cry anymore. She tore her eyes away from Dick’s and clutched onto the blanket in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but failed miserably. The first few tears hit the blanket and after seeing them absorb into the cotton, she found herself in a full-on crying fit. Dick just held her close, letting her bury her face in his shirt as she let it out. Dick rubbed calmly circles on her back and just bit his lip. This shouldn’t be happening, he should be watching her happily roaming the ship with his little brother following her around like a puppy. He should not be comforting her through an emotional breakdown after a traumatic event on what was supposed to be a joyful day. Dick gritted his teeth and made a personal vow to maim whoever let those pirates escape the holding cells.

Marinette could feel her mind and her heart having a battle inside her. Her mind yelled at her to stop, that she didn’t know this person well enough to be showing this side of her and that she needed to keep herself in check. However, her heart pleaded for release. Not just for today’s events, but for everything that led up to this. The frustration, the loneliness, the exhaustion, the sadness, everything. Dick didn’t judge, nor did he ever make a move to stop her, he just sat there and offered to be present.

Dick was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed someone moving in his peripheral vision. He slowly turned his head in order not to alarm the crying girl and noticed Jason standing there looking shocked. He obviously didn’t mean to walk in on this, Jason was probably just looking for him to tell him something, but now he was stuck. Dick watched different emotions pass through Jason’s face; shock, panic, heartbreak, anger, and finally guilt. Dick didn’t want to stop Marinette, she clearly needed this, so instead he mouthed, “Close the door.” Jason hesitated for a second before quietly moving out of the room and closing the door. Dick knew he was no doubt going to tell the others, every one of them was going to go through the same emotional process he just did. This wasn’t like the other time when Damian upset her and they saw her crying in a hallway. She was mad, frustrated, and understandably so after Damian pushed her buttons. That made him mad at his brother. This? This was a floodgate of everything she was feeling for god knows how long. This made him heartbroken and absolutely pissed.

Marinette’s sobs eventually died down and she finally pulled away, wiping her eyes. She looked him over and gave a small laugh, “I ruined your shirt.” She sniffed and he looked down and, sure enough, the shirt was soaked in tears and snot.  

Dick shrugged, “Not like it’s my favorite. It’s just a t-shirt.”

Her voice sounded nasally from her nose being stuffed, “I can make you a new shirt.”

“I’ll buy you everything you need to do so.”

“Wouldn’t that be like buying a new shirt at a store?”

“No way. Not when I’m getting it custom made. I like blue and black or red and black.”

She snorted, “I like red and black too.” She stood up and wiped at her eyes again, “Oh my god, what time is it?”

“Late.”

“How late?”

“Don’t ask.” Dick yawned and stretched as if to emphasize the fact and Marinette nodded. “Are you tired yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“You look dead.”

“Oh thanks, I think the dark circles and puffy pink eyes really complement each other.” Dick laughed and stood up to give her one last hug. She wrapped her arms around him, “I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be.” He held her at arm’s length and looked her over one last time, “Why not go to the arcade and play some games. It could help the time pass until you do get tired.”

“What about the explosions?”

“They blew up individual rooms but nothing too damaging. It’s weird, they felt and sounded bigger than they actually were.” Marinette nodded and he ruffled her hair a bit before pushing her in the direction of the game room. “Now go. Immerse yourself, beat some high scores, make sure Tim knows you beat those high scores because they’re all his and it’ll drive him nuts.”

She laughed, “I’m going. I’m going.” She began walking before turning back, “Thank you, Richard.”

“No problem, Marinette.”

She smiled and ran down the halls to the arcade, noting that this one was probably the biggest on the ship. She walked around and looked at the machines, not knowing where to start before hearing music playing in the background. It wasn’t like the normal arcade soundtracks, it was an actual song. She wandered closer to the source and found herself watching a certain Wayne playing a dancing game. The game looked different, but had the same premise of the ones she would play at Alya’s house. Hitting the arrows, in this case the symbols, as they appear on the screen to the music and rack up points. It was always fun watching Alya and Nino play, they added so much flair to their dances, but Damian was different. He was so concentrated on the screen and he didn’t add any unnecessary movements, working only towards efficiency. She watched him miss no beats and the score count got higher and higher until he set a new record at the end of the song. He leaned back on the bar behind him and jumped when Marinette clapped.

“You’re really good at that game. I’ll admit I didn’t take you for a dancer.”

He looked her over and shrugged, “I’m not. This game helps me concentrate and keeps me agile.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” He watched her curiously as she made her way over on stage with him. She started to tease him, “Damian likes dancing games.”

“I do not.”

“Uh-huh, that’s why your name is all over this game’s leader board.” She pointed at the screen and sure enough ‘DAM’ was all over the board. He frowned and she grinned. “You like it.”

“So I enjoy this game? So what?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” She turned and opened her blanket a bit, letting Tikki know she was taking it off so she could find somewhere to hide, before putting it down neatly beside the stage. “I really like this game too.”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are you challenging me?”

“You said it not me.” Damian smirked, “What?”

“You’re going to lose.”

Marinette scoffed, “We’ll see.” Marinette went through the library of songs and noticed one that seemed to be cleared on every level, “I didn’t take you for a K-Pop fan.”

“I’m not. That was the first song I ever played on this game. It was at a carnival with some of my teammates and one of them was getting too cocky.” Damian thought back to that night and how great he felt beating Beast Boy at his own game. “Dethroned him real quick.”

“Then let’s do that one.” She pressed the button and the screen started its count down.

“Are you sure? It’s my best song.”

“I just want to see if I can keep up. If I beat you in the process then that’s just a bonus.” Damian rolled his eyes and honed on the screen as that music started to play. Marinette knew she wasn’t in the right mindset to be playing this, she was tired and had just finished crying, but she couldn’t help it. Her competitive nature got the better of her and her small desire to know Damian a bit better was satisfied with this new information. The arrows were replaced with a crescent moon facing downward, a lightning bolt, a circle, and a star and the song ‘Crazzee Boi’ filled her ears. She struggled and found herself not being able to keep up.

“Just concentrate.” She didn’t look over, keeping her eyes trained on the screen, but listened all the same. “Don’t think about what’s going on around you, just focus on the screen and focus on what’s coming next. There’s too many things happening at once for you to train your eyes on the stuff that’s hitting you in the moment. Focus on what you need to do next to continue moving forward.” She gulped and took a deep breath before honing in on the screen in front of her. She did what he told her to do and moved her eyed away from the action line and more towards the bottom half of the screen to see what was coming up. Soon enough, she felt a change in her body and she was moving to the beat of the music in a way she never could before.

If anyone were to look in, they’d see two teens on top of a dancing machine moving almost in sync to each other and the music. There were some differences, Damian’s motions were precise and efficient while Marinette’s were fluid and she added the tiniest bits of flair when she could. Still, they complimented each other, moving to the same beat and making the same moves. Marinette wouldn’t have noticed being so focused on the game, but Damian knew this song almost as well as he knew his brothers’ weaknesses. He could look away without penalty and he did, making sure to steal glances to watch the girl beside him. Admiring her concentration, determination, and the competitive shimmer in her eye.

The song was coming to a close and with one final jump, the song finished and the two waited with baited breath to see the winner. The game ultimately gave Damian the winner, but only by a few hundred points. “You did well.”

“Thanks, not bad for my first time on this machine.”

“Not bad at all.” The two laughed and in the glow of the congratulations screen he finally noticed her face. He noticed the slight hint of pink and the puffiness that had yet to go down. Damian decided she came for the same reason he did, he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t escape his own thoughts. “Do you want to play some more games?” She nodded and grabbed her blanket as they made their way through the arcade. Trying every console at least once and winning prizes where they could. The two started to yawn and feel tired, Marinette laughed at Damian for actually being human enough to get tired. “Why is that so surprising?”

“It’s not. It’s just that your brothers always make fun of you for doing normal stuff. I figured this was appropriate.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “You catch on quickly.”

Marinette giggled, “I try.” The two continued to drag their feet the more tired they got until they finally went into a shooting game. The game had a bench and curtain to block out the outside lights and sounds to immerse the players in the game. Despite it being a shooter game with loud noises and flashing lights, Marinette felt herself nod off leaning against her gaming partner.

Damian yawned, “You’re making us lose.”

She shook her head, “You can do it.”

Damian tried, but ended up dying in the game due to lack of focus. He looked at the girl leaning next to him and tried to nudge her awake, but it didn’t help. One more yawn had him leaning against her and closing his eyes, unable to fight it anymore. The two nodded off in the arcade, cut off from the rest of the boat by a curtain and lulled to sleep by the sounds of gunshots from the game.

“Told you they were here.”

“They look so cute.”

“Yeah, but when she wakes up I will kick her butt for scaring me.”

“Oh come on, look at them. You can’t tell me this isn’t cute.”

“Sure, cute, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I wasted my precious time looking for her.”

“Chloe, hush!”

Damian groaned and tried to stretch, but felt a weight pressed against his chest. “Oh no, he’s waking up.”

“Quick, start recording!”

Damian rubbed his eyes and cracked one open, the first thing he noticed was Marinette sleeping on his chest and her blanket covering them. “Huh?” The second thing he noticed were the eyes. He looked around and saw his brothers and Marinette’s friends, one of which he didn’t recognize, looking past the curtains and watching them. Lastly, he noticed both Alya and Jason recording. He frowned and tried to sit up, his back hurting from the awkward sleeping place. “Can someone get her off of me?”

Jason shrugged, “I don’t know man, she looks pretty comfortable.”

Adrien snorted, “Besides, you don’t want to be the one to wake up Marinette before she’s ready. She gets hissy.”

The small pink-haired girl snickered, “Oh my god, didn’t she almost scratch you for trying to wake her up that one time?”

Tim grinned, “Oh perfect, those two are basically cats then. Just feed them, play with them, let them sleep, and then you’re golden.”

Chloe huffed, “Well, looking for her wasted our morning and she has to pay for that.”

Dick laughed, “Damian, it’s almost 1 in the afternoon.”

Damian groaned, “Grayson, that’s not funny.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “No. You know what isn’t funny? Us getting a frantic call from Alya that Marinette went missing and then you couldn’t be reached no matter what we did. Then Alix here came over to all of us panicking and told us you were sleeping here.” He crossed his arms and mimicked Chloe, “She’s right. You owe us.”

Alya shrugged, “I don’t know. Having this kind of dirt on them is great. Also, it’d be great to play this on their wedding day.”

Jason raised his hand, “We could sell it to Lois and Clark! Exclusive! ‘Demon Spawn Feels’! Or ‘Demon Spawn Finds Love’!”

Damian glared at Jason, “You’ll find your guns in the Gotham harbor if you even try to do that, Todd.” Damian suddenly felt a hand slap onto his mouth, “What?”

Marinette pressed her hand down harder and mumbled, “Still sleeping, shhhhh.”

Damian didn’t know how to respond while everyone else bit their lips to keep from laughing. Damian rolled his eyes before moving Marinette’s hand away, “Marinette, wake up.”

Marinette groaned and buried her face in the blanket, “No.”

Damian thought for a moment before getting an idea, “Marinette, my father is right next to us and wants to talk to you.” Marinette shot straight up and hit her head against the top of the machine’s pod, immediately sitting down and groaning. Damian sat up and grabbed her head gently, “Well, good news. No bleeding. You’ll live.”

Marinette pulled away and rubbed her head, “Wow, thanks.” She looked around and finally took in everything around her. “Please tell me you haven’t been recording this whole time.”

Alya shrugged, “Not the whole time, just most of the time.” She laughed, “Serves you right for sneaking out last night.”

Marinette wrapped herself in her blanker again and leaned back, “Do I have to get up?”

Adrien looked at Nino and then back to Marinette, “Marinette it’s almost one.”

“What?”

Alix shook her head, “The other girls will be dying to hear about this.”

Jason chuckled, “Plus, Bruce has been looking for you two since 11.”

In unison, the two yelled, “WHAT?”

The two bolted out of their respective sides and ran towards their rooms, leaving behind a group laughing and shaking their heads.

Jason looked over at Alya, “When do you think it’ll happen?”

Alya hummed, “I’m not sure. When she liked Adrien, she couldn’t even think straight. With Damian it’s different, she actually holds a conversation with him and teases him back.”

Adrien spoke up, “Wait, she liked me?”

Alix looked over and raised an eyebrow at Adrien, “Dude, she liked you for years.”

“YEARS?”

Chloe smiled, “You always were a bit dense, Adrikins.”

Adrien pouted, “Blame the lack of social interaction.”

Nino patted his shoulder, “We do. We always do.”

Tim shook his head, “No, no, no, no. We’re missing the bigger question here. One we can actually bet on. Who’s going to say it first? Marinette or Damian?”

Alix snorted, “Marinette no question. The girl can’t hold it in to save her life and unlike Adrien, Damian will pick up on it.”

Dick hummed, “I don’t know. Damian has been acting extremely tame with her around. He’s blunt so he might just blurt it out.”

The group bickered amongst themselves while the two in question were frantically trying to make themselves presentable to the one and only Bruce Wayne. The group slowly found themselves in other conversations as they waited on the couple. Alix and Jason made an instant bond through their competitive spirit and need to outdo the other. Alya and Tim were discussing researching techniques. Chloe, Adrien, and Dick started a conversation about dress and hairstyles after Chloe offered to ‘fix’ Dick’s hair. All the while, Nino stood back and stayed by Alya’s side just feeling present in the moment as he looked around the arcade. He found himself drawn to a few rhythm games until the group heard rapid footsteps approaching the room. Their two friends burst into the room, panting, dressed but disheveled as they rushed to get back to the group.

Alix looked away from her game, “Marinette, you look like you just got out of a tornado.”

Dick looked the two over and hummed, “Both of you do.”

The two kids looked up and looked each other over. Marinette made a face before walking over and fixing Damian’s collar, “Really? That shirt with those jeans?”

Damian rolled his eyes and started to fix the short sleeves on Marinette’s blouse, “Yeah, whatever. Aren’t you going to get cold wearing this?”

Marinette huffed and straighten out his shirt and cuffs, “You’re just mad because you looked like you got mugged by some back alley crook.”

Damian scoffed and smoothed out some of the wrinkles, “Yeah and your friend is right. Where’s Todo? Don’t you two have a wizard to find?”

Marinette stepped back, looking him over once more before messing with his hair a bit, “Oh ha-ha. Very funny. At least I got ready before you did.”

Damian shook his head and pulled away, “You did not!” Damian looked her over one last time before turning her around, “Hold on, this pigtail is uneven.”

“Really?”

He pulled at the hair carefully adjusting it, “I don’t want Father to see us looking like we just woke up.”

Marinette turned back around and scrunched up her nose, “We did just wake up.”

“Details, details.” They looked each other over one last time and nodded, satisfied with their work on the other and turned back to the group. “Where did Father want us to meet him?” The two noted how the group before them stared in a weird mix of shock and amusement. “What?”

Tim shook his head and blinked a few times, “That didn’t just happen.”

Alya’s eyebrows could’ve touched the high ceilings, “You guys are very comfortable with each other for someone you met a day ago.”

Marinette looked at her friend confused, “What do you mean?”

Jason laughed, “I have never seen that happen before. He won’t even let Alfred go near him without a fight.”

Alix whistled, “Yup, this is going way better than it ever did with Adrien.” Marinette made a face, but still looked confused at the implications.

Nino just shook his head and pointed at the two teens, “What a rare sight to behold!” The group started to giggle as Nino upped the antics, “Here we have an old married couple in their natural state of being. Bickering at each other and fixing each other up like they’ve been doing it for years!”

The two looked each other over before realizing how weird that must’ve been to just start fixing each other’s clothes the way they did. It was so natural, they didn’t even realize it. Marinette’s face heated up, “I blame the lack of sleep and everything else that happened that night.”

Damian tried his best to keep his own composure, “Likewise.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Bruce is still waiting for you, you know? Tick-Tock Dupain-Cheng.” The two tensed up, completely forgetting why they rushed in the first place and ran to look for the man. “Did anyone tell them where to find him?”

Dick just shrugged, “They’ll figure it out.”

The two were running through the halls, asking anyone and everyone if they knew where Bruce was. “Shouldn’t you know where he likes to hang out? He’s your father!”

“If I knew that, we wouldn’t be running around now would we?” Damian turned another corner towards a small office and bumped into another man, knocking out everything he held. “Hey! Watch it!”

Marinette walked over and frowned, “Oh my god, you hurt Charles.”

“Who?”

Marinette walked over and helped the man up, “Are you going to help or not?”

“We don’t have time for-”

Marinette glared at him, “Help.” Damian groaned and started to help pick up the various items Charles was holding, handing them over after Marinette was done looking after him. She noted how disoriented he looked, how tired he was, and how messy his ‘fancy uniform’ was. Damian waiting for her impatiently caused her to override her need to fuss over the man and instead asked, “Sorry about that, we’re looking for Bruce.”

Charles blinked a few times before rubbing his temples, “Mr. Wayne? He’s in the main atrium by the second floor’s main stairway.”

Damian grabbed Marinette’s wrist before she could ask any further questions and ran. Sure enough, his father was standing there with a few colleagues. He let Marinette go, straightened himself out, and walked over. Marinette didn’t know why he felt the need to act so formal with his father, but she didn’t pry. “Father, I hear you’ve been looking for us.”

Bruce excused himself and walked over to the two teens, “From what I hear, I wasn’t the only one looking for you two. Where did they find you?”

Marinette could feel her face heat up slightly from embarrassment, “We fell asleep in the arcade. It’s my fault, I insisted we play more games and I guess we just knocked out.”

Damian looked her over, he was sure he was the one to suggest more games, but his father snapped him out of his thoughts. Bruce looked at his son amused, “Well, you two seem lively today at least.” Damian glared at his father who just smirked, “Glad you’re making friends.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I really don’t think you called us here just to ask about how we slept.”

“How did you sleep?”

Marinette thought for a moment and stretched, “Not bad considering the setting.” She yawned, “I just wish I slept more.”

Damian rubbed his eyes, “Yeah, I can agree with that.” He leaned back and stretched, “Father, why are we here?”

Bruce looked over the two teens and sighed, “Come with me.” Marinette looked over at Damian for some kind of clue, but Damian didn’t even look her way as he followed his father. Marinette walked beside Damian, getting nervous by all the silence between the three. “I must apologize to you, Marinette.”

“Huh?” She ran forward a bit to walk beside Bruce and look up at his face, “What do you mean?”

“This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for your hard work. So far, you’ve been put into numerous upsetting situations and have been thrown overboard.”

Marinette was quick to reassure, “No! No! No need to apologize!” She sighed and played with her pigtails, voice becoming smaller as she uttered, “I’ve been through worse.” She thought back to the various Akumas and how they compared, last night was terrifying because she wasn’t transformed. Still, there have been other situations that trump being thrown overboard by far. However, the laughing gas that took control over her and the man being rough with her as he threw her over the rails placed this event in the top 10 worst incidents she’s ever been through.

He frowned and looked over the girl, “You did surprise me though.”

She looked up surprised, “Oh? Really?”

Bruce nodded, “Not every day a teenager comes up with a plan on the spot to save a ship.”

“Oh! That.” Marinette shook her head and just chuckled, “Honestly, it was nothing. You should see how Ladybug saves Paris sometimes. The items Lucky Charm gives her are, in Chloe’s words, ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.” Marinette laughed, “She’s saved the day using a towel, a traffic cone, a teapot, almost anything normal you could think of.” She held a bittersweet smile on her face, “Trust me. This was nothing.”

“I don’t call saving all these passengers and throwing yourself in front of my son ‘nothing’.” Damian knew he was leading them to a lounge on the upper deck. It was where his father would go to escape the crowds and someplace he refused to let him or any of the other boys enter without swearing to behave lest getting kicked out. “A natural leader.”

Marinette frowned, “What?”

Bruce smiled at her, “You’re a natural leader. Despite what you think about yourself, you’re the one who saved the ship last night.”

Marinette’s face lit up a bright pink and she shook her head, “No! No! Batman did with his partner! I just played some loud music.”

Damian spoke up, “You did not!” Bruce and Marinette stopped and turned to Damian, “You came up with a plan on the spot using mundane resources your friend brought onto the ship and lead a team of three to successfully execute a mission to distract the enemy. Not only that, but your teammates consisted of me, a model, and an idiot. While I can handle myself, Adrien isn’t trained for this kind of thing and Jason’s Jason.” Damian sighed, not really knowing where that outburst came from, “You risked your life for everyone. That’s heroic if you ask me.”

Bruce watched as Marinette and Damian looked at each other, each looking like they had more to add but unable to say it. Bruce cleared his throat, snapping the two back to the present, and nodded. “Damian’s right. You deserve a reward.”

“But I already got a reward.”

Bruce stopped in front of a door and unlocked it, “A new reward.” He opened the door to a den that was extravagant and Marinette couldn’t stop herself from roaming the room.

“This is so beautiful!” She looked around the different shelves and gasped, “Another ship in a bottle!” She carefully held it and bounced, full of childish excitement, “Where do you guys get these? I want one! I love looking at them, they’re so small and intricate and-” She looked back at the Waynes and noticed them staring at her, both amused as they watched her barge in and look around like a kid in a candy store. She cleared her throat, painfully aware of the blush spreading across her face and neck, and carefully placed the bottle back. “Sorry.”

Bruce shook his head, “Don’t be.” He walked over to a small safe hiding underneath a shelf, “We’ve docked at Santander, Spain for the time being as this whole mess gets sorted out. Santander is a lovely little city to explore and if you’d like to head to a bigger city you could head to Bilbao.” He pulled out some cash and closed the safe door, “Escorted of course.” Damian nodded, even if Bruce didn’t directly tell him to be the escort, he knew Bruce referred to him. “All expenses paid for you and your class.”

Marinette looked at the money Bruce placed in front of her, “No! I couldn’t possibly-”

Bruce thought for a second and sighed, turning away from Marinette and walking towards Damian, “My hopes for this trip was to be a vacation for you and your class. Not even a few days in and those plans are ruined. I just want to make it up to you and your classmates.” Bruce trailed off sounding disappointed and Marinette bit her lip.

Marinette sighed, “If my classmates are going to go, as their class president I should too. Thank you.”

Damian saw his father smirk before turning around and handing her some money, “Perfect. I’ll give each of your classmates some spending money so you can all explore.”

Damian rolled his eyes, acknowledging his father’s cute attempt at manipulation, “I’ll go too. Like Father said, you need an escort.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at Damian, “You know your way around a city in Spain?”

Damian smirked, “Just give me a few minutes and I will.” He pulled out his phone and started typing some things in, “Come on. We can go look at the beaches or park or something.” Damian held the door open for Marinette, “I’m assuming we’ll be leaving tomorrow as today is already late into the afternoon.”

Bruce nodded, “Try not to sleep through your group leaving tomorrow morning.”

Damian scowled and Marinette shook her head, “Please don’t remind me.” She sighed and sent the man a very genuine smile, “Thank you. Despite everything that’s happened, I’m glad I got the chance to be on this ship.”

Bruce couldn’t help but smile back, “I’m glad you were the winner.” Marinette nodded and walked out the door, “Damian.”

Damian turned to his father, “Yes?”

“I know you’re not used to this type of thing, but try to loosen up. If anything happens I know you can take care of it, but know that this isn’t a mission. You aren’t Robin right now. You are just Damian.”

“Just Damian has gotten into his fair share of trouble these past few days.”

“Please try, Damian.” There was a moment of silence before Damian just walked out and ran to catch up with Marinette.

Marinette waited for him to catch up, “You okay?”

Damian shrugged, “No reason not to be.”

Marinette yawned and put the money in her purse, “What do you want to do now?”

Before Damian could respond Marinette’s stomach growled loudly and he chuckled, “I think we should eat.” Marinette covered her stomach, embarrassed, and just nodded. Damian chuckled at the girl who just nudged him before laughing along with him. The two chatted as they made their way through the ship to get some food, if anyone were to look over they would say the two were in their own little world. Content and calm as they held a steady conversation with each other. 

They eventually made their way to the food before being stopped in front of the dining hall when someone called Marinette’s name. She turned to see three people running towards her, “I see you’ve made it down here!” Alix smiled, “You look a lot more awake now.”

Rose smiled brightly at the two, “Yeah! Alix told us how she found you two sleeping in the game room. That’s so sweet!” The two teens blushed, Marinette more intensely than Damian, but both felt the same amount of embarrassment.

Juleka shook her head at Rose’s bluntness, “Rose why don’t you give Marinette the thing.”

Marinette looked at the three confused before Rose held out some red fabric and her black shoes, “My dress!”

Juleka shrugged, “Yeah, it was just on the floor. Honestly didn’t realize it was yours until Lila brought it up to us.”

Marinette took the fabric and shoes into her arms before looking at her friends confused, “Lila?”

“Yeah.” The five turned to see the brunette walking towards them, “See, I told you you’d reach her faster than I could.”

Alix smirked, “Obviously.”

Juleka rolled her eyes, knowing that the comment only stroked Alix’s ego, “Come on Rose. Marinette, if you want to you can come sit next to us for dinner.” Juleka dragged Rose away from the two, mainly to save them from Rose’s questions about their budding relationship. She could see they weren’t there quite yet, but something was definitely blooming between the two. She was sure others saw it too as they made their way across the ship. 

Alix’s stomach growled and she laughed nervously at the group, “I need some food before I starve. I’ll be sitting with Kim and Max towards the back if you decide you don’t want Rose interrogating you two.” Alix winked at them before running to get food, leaving three teens standing awkwardly in front of the entrance.

Damian already didn’t like this girl and could feel his anxiety spike around her. That was never a good sign, “Let’s go eat already.”

Lila frowned and looked down, playing with her bracelet and acting coy, “But don’t I get a thank you?”

Marinette sighed and reluctantly said, “Thank you, Lila.”

Lila looked the two over before smirking, “You must be proud of yourself. Coming up with that plan on the spot was really something.” She walked forward a bit, pushing herself into Marinette’s personal space.

Marinette did her best to stand her ground, but she noticeably tensed up as Lila got closer. Damian grabbed her arm not wanting this to end up like that time in the rec room, “Let’s go, Marinette.”

Lila completely ignored the boy and held steady eye contact with Marinette. Her smile became demeaning, “You know something, I will say that it was odd that you left your skirt behind. I didn’t see much, but you and your little friend here were in that closet for some time with no cameras or anything. From what I can tell, they couldn’t reach you right away either.”

Marinette could feel her heart rate spike the same way it did when she was facing an Akuma. She swallowed the saliva in her mouth and did her best to keep her voice steady, “What are you trying to get at, Lila?”

“Marinette!” The three looked over and saw a familiar group running towards them with a girl running towards the front. 

Marinette could feel the tension vanish from her, “Alya?” Alya tackled Marinette, almost causing her to fall back, “Alya! Stop doing that!”

“No way, after yesterday I’m going to do this as long as I have a running start.” Marinette rolled her eyes and hugged back. Alya pulled away and turned to the other girl, “Oh! Lila! Hey, what have you been up to?”

Lila smiled back at Alya and her voice became cheerful, “Oh just wandering the ship. I came to return Marinette’s dress that she left behind.”

Alya looked at the items in Marinette’s arms and smiled, “Oh, that’s really cool of you Lila.”

“It’s nothing really.” Lila gasped as if she remembered something and smiled, “I saw a dog on the boat. It was cute!”

The rest of the group caught up and Nino panted, “You have to stop doing that, babe.”

Alya, ignoring her boyfriend’s whine, got excited, “A dog? What type?”

Damian started to slowly pull Marinette away from the girl but not before Lila looked Marinette right in the eyes and smugly stated, “Oh, it was a tramp.”

Damian scowled and pulled Marinette away forcefully, taking her inside the room and sitting down at a large table alone. “Sit.” Marinette did as she was told, almost as if she were on autopilot, and looked down at her lap. Damian frowned, “I know you’re worried about an Akuma, but we’re in a different country. I don’t know why you put up with her.” Marinette tensed up and Damian glared at the girl as she talked to her classmates, not even noticing that his brothers followed them and sat down at the same table.

Jason looked confused, “What was that about?”

Tim sighed, also glaring at the girl, “I thought it was obvious.”

“What was obvious?”

“That she called Marinette a-” Marinette abruptly stood up and walked away from the table, leaving the four brothers behind at the table startled, “tramp.”

Damian switched his glare over to his brother, “Really?”

Dick shook his head, “It’s like her friends don’t even see it. As far as I can tell, the only other two not wrapped around her finger are Adrien and Chloe.” He watched as Chloe and Adrien did their best to peel themselves away from the conversation, “I don’t get it.”

Jason just growled and pleaded with his brothers, “Again, we have the presentation. Most of her classmates are here anyway, we could do this now.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and then Marinette will be mad at you forever and refuse to talk to you for the rest of the trip.”

“She’ll forgive me.”

“In your dreams.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Seriously though, we can’t let her put up with this.” He looked over at Dick, “Give me five minutes, I can take her.”

“No Jason!”

Jason crossed his arms and huffed before turning to Damian, “Don’t think you’re out of the woods yet either.”

Damian looked over at his brother and narrowed his eyes, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The second youngest of the group looked between the two and bit his lip. He sighed and asked, “Why didn’t you take out the gunman?”

“What?”

Jason tilted his head and remained unamused, “You took down Superman once when he was possessed by Trigon and you really expect us to believe you couldn’t take out a crazy guy with a gun?”

Damian became defensive, tensing up and leaning away from his brothers, “He had it pointed at her head and one wrong move could’ve gotten her shot at point-blank range.”

Dick shook his head, “Come on Damian. You’ve fought in worse situations, many of them with hostages, and you expect me to believe that?”

Damian crossed his arms, he didn’t like being interrogated, “Blame Father. When he told me about this trip he swore to me if he found out I did anything out of line he’d retire me for good. No Robin, no Titans, nothing. He threatened me with boarding school.”

Jason looked him over and gave Damian a look that could only be described as annoyed disbelief, “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Yeah, but before I had the energy to not give a damn about whatever he said.” He looked back at Marinette getting food and talking with a few classmates, “She looked terrified. She didn’t have to say anything, but she was practically begging me to comply.” He sighed, “If I did try to take him out I know I would’ve lost my composure and hurt him. Badly. Father would’ve been upset and I don’t think Marinette would’ve forgiven me either.” He watched her float around, catching up with everybody before she looked up and caught his eye. She smiled and waved at him prompting him to turn back to the table, embarrassed about being caught staring, “She doesn’t know I’m Robin and I don’t want her to. I’m just Damian to her and I want to keep it that way.”

Tim watched her as well and hummed, “You guys might have more in common than you think.”

“What are you-”

Dick licked his lips before interrupting, “We told him about your little conversation with Captain Staller.”

Damian looked at Dick for a second confused before realizing what he meant, “Oh.”

Tim sighed and took out his phone, “Look, as far as I can tell many different superheroes have popped up around Paris over the years and I’m 89% sure she’s one of them.” He scrolled through the digital file and looked at all the pictures he collected, “Because it’s magic, the suits alter their physical appearances enough to make it hard to pinpoint which one she is.”

Damian’s interest was peaked, “Do you have a guess?”

Jason scoffed, “Are you guys serious? She’s obviously Ladybug.” The table froze and turned to him, “What?”

Dick shrugged, “I don’t know. You just said you thought our new tiny friend over there could be a superhero who’s been fighting a crazy magic terrorist for two years. Maybe that’s it.”

Tim scrolled through before pulling up a mouse themed hero, “I was going to say this was Marinette.”

Jason looked at the photo and passed the phone over to his other two brothers while he shook his head, “No way, did you guys see the way she bossed Bruce around. No temporary, one time heroine has that type of confidence. She’s been doing this for years.”

Tim frowned, “Prove it.”

“What?”

“We need proof that she’s Ladybug.”

“That who’s Ladybug?” The four looked up to see Marinette’s friends walk over and sit around the table. Alya smiled, “I love hearing other people’s theories. I can post it on the Ladyblog if you’d like.”

Damian shook his head, “He thinks one of your classmates could be Ladybug.”

Chloe scoffed, “Oh please, no one in this class is hero material other than me and maybe Adrien.” Adrien tensed slightly but went unnoticed due to years of controlling his body during modeling sessions.

Alya rolled her eyes, “If you want to hear crazy theories, I got one.”

Dick smiled, happy to get away from the tense subject prior, “Do tell.”

Alya smirked, “Okay, there’s no reason Batman and Robin-”

“Red Robin!”

“Okay, Red Robin – Thanks Tim – should be here on the ship or in Europe unless he was one of the passengers.”

Nino rolled his eyes and smiled. Nino loved seeing Alya get this fired up, “And who exactly could be Batman in this ship?”

Alya looked over at Nino with a knowing smiled before confidently announcing, “Bruce Wayne.”

“WHAT?” The chorus of four boys alongside Marinette, who came within earshot of the table, resonated in the room. Marinette put her plate down and groaned, “Alya, you cannot actually believe Bruce is Batman.”

Alya huffed, “And why not? He’s the same build, plus he only showed up after Bruce left the room. Batman knew his way around the boat from what I could see in the cameras and he didn’t need to talk to any of us to understand the situation. He has to be a passenger and I’m betting on Bruce.”

Adrien laughed, “You’re going down a weird rabbit hole.”

“Watch it, Agreste.” She looked over the four Wayne boys, “If I’m right, blink once.” All four boys in that moment did their best to not blink until her attention went somewhere else. 

Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed, “And who is Red Robin then?”

Alya hummed, “I don’t know.” She looked up and narrowed her eyes at Tim, “You weren’t around either.”

Tim tensed and Dick stood up abruptly, “Okay! I think it’s time to get food.”

Alya jumped up before they left the table, “Wait you still didn’t tell us who you think Ladybug is!”

Jason shrugged and bluntly stated, “Marinette.”

“WHAT?” The Parisian students all stared at the man wide-eyed and shocked. There was a moment of heavy silence before three out of the five classmates started laughing, “You actually think it’s Marinette?”

Chloe wiped a tear from her eye, “Seriously, have you seen how clutzy she is? No offence, but you are a walking hazard.”

Marinette huffed, “I’m not that bad!” Her friends stared her down until she reluctantly tacked on, “Not anymore.”

Adrien shook his head and quickly jumped into the conversation to protect his lady, “No way. Marinette can’t be Ladybug.”

Jason crossed his arms, “And why not? No offense, but I know a badass when I see one.” Marinette, despite being accused smiled at Jason. She hasn’t heard someone compliment her as Marinette like that and it made her feel a bit of pride. Jason saw this small spark in her and winked, “She saved the day. I think she’s a good candidate.”

Nino shook his head, “No, you guys don’t get it. We’ve seen Marinette and Ladybug in the same place.”

Jason deflated, “Really? When?”

Alya sighed and thought for a moment, “That was way back when they were first starting out. Timebreaker, right?”

Chloe winced, “Oh yeah, I caused that one.”

Damian didn’t miss how relieved Marinette got, “Are you sure they were in the same place?”

Adrien nodded, “Yeah, Marinette ran away with the rest of us.”

Tim looked over at Jason with a smug look on his face, “So I was right. Again. She’s not Ladybug.”

Jason pouted and walked over to Marinette, “I think you’re cool enough to be a hero.”

Marinette smiled warmly at Jason, “Thanks, but I’m really not.”

Alya snorted, “Now that’s a lie. You totally could be a hero. Honestly, I’m surprised Ladybug hasn’t recruited you yet.”

Chloe simply nodded, “I hate to admit it, but you would make a good asset to the team.”

Damian noted how Marinette seemed touched by her friends’ words, “You guys are sweet.”

Alya smirked, “One theory shot down, but my theory still stands.” The four brothers groaned and left the table to grab their food, “What?”

Adrien shrugged and sarcastically said, “I don’t know Alya, you just accused their dad of being a vigilante.”

Alya rolled her eyes, “As if they don’t know.”

Marinette shook her head, “No way Bruce is Batman. He’s too nice.”

Chloe hummed, “That makes the perfect cover then, doesn’t it?  Playboy, dad millionaire by day, bat themed hero by night.”

Adrien thought for a moment, “Then why would he leave Gotham? Wouldn’t it be too dangerous?”

Alya laughed haughtily, “You guys need to do research. Luckily, you are talking to France’s biggest superhero addict.” She pulled up her phone and started scrolling through different pictures of bat themed heroes, “He has an army of different heroes under his watch. Batgirl, Batwing, Nightwing, Robin, Red Hood (although he’s questionable), and who knows who else!” She wore a smug smile, “We’re going to be here for a while so that gives plenty of chances to investigate and prove my theory.”

Marinette frowned and sent a small glare at her best friend, “Where was this determination during our last research project?”

Alya wilted and laughed nervously, “Oh, well, um-” The four brothers came back to the table and she perked up, “So if I find proof your dad is Batman will you admit I’m right?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, sure Alya.”

Jason huffed, “I’m not giving up on my theory though.” He turned to Marinette and pointed at her, “Yesterday was crazy, but you kept your cool and saved the other passengers. I know you said it’s because you’re used to this stuff in Paris, but there’s no way a normal girl can push Bruce out of the way and take charge like that.” He took a large bite of his food and with a full mouth said, “You are a hero. I know you are.”

Damian watched Marinette’s reaction very closely, noting how she would tense up anytime they would directly accuse her. Damian had his own suspicions, if she wasn’t Ladybug, then Tim’s theory could be right. Still, she has too much experience for someone only called to be a hero once or twice. It didn’t add up. He looked over at his brother and noted the fire in his eyes, he’s never seen Jason so sure of himself. Marinette looked so serious, he knew Jason hit a nerve.

“I believe it too.” Marinette whipped her head around and stared at Damian, “I agree with Jason. I don’t know how, but you are a hero.”

Tim coughed up his drink and yanked his phone back, quickly typing something on it. “I need to record this. The little brat actually agrees with Jason on something.” Damian gritted his teeth and avoided the shocked expression on Dick’s face and definitely avoided the joy on Jason’s face. 

Marinette couldn’t believe what was happening around her. Two people she’s barely met both correctly guessed her secret identity. Weirdest thing? She wasn’t panicking. She felt confused. She didn’t know how she felt about any of it. She looked into herself and noted how even though she was nervous, she wasn’t going over the edge like she did yesterday when her friends interrogated her. She didn’t know what was different, but she still needed to answer the group. Her eyes met Adrien’s and in a quick moment of silent communication, she knew he would support her no matter what she said. She looked down and sighed, dejected and firmly stated, “No. I’m not a hero. I’m Marinette Dupain Cheng. That’s it.”

Alya pitied her friend, knowing that if she was Ladybug she would’ve given Marinette a Miraculous as soon as she had the chance. She shook her head, “Enough. Marinette’s a hero in her own right. Miraculous or not.” She pointed at the boys, “But I’m still convinced Bruce is Batman!”

Tim met her stare with an equally determined one of his own, “And we’re convinced Marinette’s a hero!” He put out his hand towards the future reported, leaning over the table with a determined look on his face, “May the best investigator win.”

Alya grinned and firmly grasped Tim’s hand, slightly startling him with her grip. Tension held the table hostage. The heavy air sat between the group as both sides had their own theories as to who’s the true hero. Marinette could feel Damian’s eyes glued onto her. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, she just knew he’d know she was lying. She hated lying, but it was necessary to keep her secret hidden. Alya, unaware of the pressure she built, smugly stated, “I plan to.”

Dick sighed looked over to Damian and Marinette, “I wanted to ask you if Bruce told you about what happened late last night.”

The two snapped their attention to Dick and Marinette shook her head, “What are you talking about?”

Dick looked over at Jason and Tim, uncertain and nervous on how to proceed. Damian frowned, “What are you talking about Grayson?”

Dick shook his head and mumbled, “What the hell Bruce?” At this point, the whole table silently waited for a response and Dick could feel the pressure. Dick looked around and pointed, “Ask him yourself.”

The table all turned to see Bruce walking over, his smile fell after seeing everyone’s faces. The kids were all confused and the two teens of interest both held looks of concern. “What are we talking about?”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “You didn’t tell them.”

Bruce glared at him, “No and I wasn’t going to. She doesn’t need to know.”

“To be fair,” the two men turned to a scowling Marinette, “I don’t like people talking about things concerning me behind my back.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at Bruce, “What don’t I know?”

Bruce was surprised, he didn’t realize this girl had it in her to look at anyone like that. Her resolve oozed out of every pore as she stared him down, something most Gotham villains can’t do. Bruce sighed and knelt down in front of her, Damian tensed considering he’s only ever seen him like this when he was about to give him bad news. “You know those men who attacked the ship last night?” Marinette nodded, already not liking where this was headed. “Those men disappeared last night from their holing cells. The authorities woke up this morning and found the cell only held two kids and all other evidence disappeared. It’s like they vanished into thin air and one of the kids was hurt.” Marinette held onto every word and felt her breath hitch, “Marinette, they may come back. I’m working with Batman to strengthen the security of the ship.”

There was a moment of silence before Marinette responded, “So that’s why you wanted me off the ship tomorrow.” Bruce looked at her confused while her expression became more serious, “You wanted me off the ship in case they came back while the ship was finishing its final repairs.”

Bruce nodded, “You saw how that man who threw you overboard had an interest in you. If he saw you again, he might try something.”

“That won’t happen.” The table turned to Damian, “We won’t let that happen. Father, if you haven’t realized she’s going to be safest when around us.”

Bruce nodded in agreement, “Which is why you four will be accompanying the class on their outing tomorrow.” He stood up and straightened out his shirt before turning to the rest of the classmates, “You will be given spending money to use and keep should you choose. I want you all to have fun while on this trip as promised, but it may be safer if you weren’t on the boat.”

Chloe brushed her bangs out of her face and pouted. “I don’t like running”, she sighed, “but without my Miraculous he’s right.”

Adrien bit his lip, “We’ll stay with Marinette tonight too. From what I hear, the room is big enough.” He let out a bittersweet laugh, “Great first sleepover.”

Alya pitied the boy but nodded, “It’s settled. We stay in Marinette’s room tonight and tomorrow we stay together as a group to explore the cities until Bruce gives us the okay.”  

Nino nodded, “I’m in.”

“Of course.”

“Ditto.”

“Marinette?” Alya realized her best friend’s gaze never looked away from Damian, “Marinette?”

Marinette glared at Damian, “Did you know?”

Damian looked over at the girl and realized her acuations were similar to those she had on the first night they met. “No. No, I didn’t.” Marinette held up her pinky, “What?”

“Swear to me.” He looked at her for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden request, but eventually wrapped his pinky around hers. Marinette relaxed a bit and she nodded, “Okay.” She looked over at Alya, “If he wants he’s allowed to the sleepover.”

Damian blinked, “Wait, what?”

Alya nodded, “Okay. Damian, you can meet up with the guys at their rooms and walk over together.” Alya put out her fist, “We’re going to make the most of this trip and keep each other safe. We are not letting Marinette’s efforts go to waste!” Nino sighed and stood up, placing his fist next to Alya’s. Adrien stood up next and placed his fist next to Nino’s. Chloe did the same. Marinette followed suit and the five classmates stared at the Waynes expectantly. “You guys in or not?” Jason stood up first out of the family and put his fist in. Next was Tim, then Dick, then Bruce. Damian was hesitant, but after meeting Marinette’s pleading expression he reluctantly stood and did the same. Alya smiled, “Okay.”

*******************************************************************************************

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[another-sonic-blog]

That Makes Us Two: Chapter 4: Sleep

Finally, they had some proper rest. After the previous day, Shadow and Amy needed a few hours of sleep.

Especially Shadow

Strangely, and as to her conclusion, Amy didn't feel tired on the least and this was only because she was in Shadow's body.

Being the Ultimate Life Form, Shadow's body didn't need sleep to function properly. However, just for the pleasure of it, his body would oblige and get a nap.

For the first in his life, as inside being Amy's body, Shadow was utterly exhausted. He had to admit, that it was nice, to feel this normal.

Just normal.

It was day time when had arrived at their next destination. This time, Shadow knew where they were going and guided Amy through the whole flight time. Once they landed on land, and settle in their tents, Shadow had told Amy one thing only before drifting into sleep.

"Do not...I repeat...Do NOT touch anything...wait for me to wake up."Amy nodded as she was more fascinated by the place than worried by Shadow's words.

As Shadow went to sleep, Amy waited outside. Looking around the Island she noticed blue and hot pink trees, something that she had never seen before. Plants and flowers that weren't written on the books she had read before; animals and insects that that were alienated yet cosmically beautiful.

No wonder why this place was called "Dream Island"

Shadow said to not touch anything, but he didn't say she couldn't go exploring, right?

Is everything went alright, she didn't have to see an angry Shadow today.

Amy walked slowly as to not wake up Shadow. She made sure that she was far away from the camp before she began running.

She ran as fast as she could getting the adrenaline through her body. The feeling was amazing, the feeling of being able to go where-ever you wanted, whenever you wanted...that feeling of power, of being on top of the world...

She appreciated it, but it wasn't for her.

She liked taking her time. Appreciating each fragment in life, all living things, small or big. She liked going slow and steady, enjoying each moment, savoring it slowly.

She had now realized how different she was from Sonic.

and she wonders if Shadow felt the same.

She walked some more and as clumsy as she is, she stumbles upon a large and thick tree root. She laid on her tummy for a while thinking how lucky she was that she was in Shadow's body. She felt fine and was ready to stand up, but as soon as she held her head up she noticed a large mushroom in front of her...and the mushroom had eyes, a mouth, and small hands and feet.

"Oro"

"AAAAHHHHHHH!"

Her loud scream was heard all the way to the camp.

"I told her to not touch anything", Shadow mumbled as he woke up from his slumber. He quickly stood up and got out of his tent. He looked around the area but didn't find Amy anywhere near the camp. Shadow then, ran towards the scream.

Amy stumble as she felt sleep take over her. She could hear a river nearby and decided to go there to clean herself up a bit before she went back to the camp. The giant Mushroom had thrown at her face some kind of yellow powder, kinda like pollen. It covered all of her body and she was beginning to feel itchy about it...and sleepy too for some reason.

She had finally made it to the river and washed her face with the cold water, hoping that maybe, that way her sleepiness could go away.

She looked at her reflection on the water.

Well, more like Shadow's reflection.

Dammit...he is attractive.

She thought as she appreciated Shadow's features more. He had beautiful red-colored eyes, his face was delicate where it needed to be but strong at the same time. Perfect teeth, and if he tried a little bit more; the perfect smile. It wasn't only his face, but his body as well. Slender and fit, not too bulky, just perfect. Every aspect of his physic was well balanced and-

WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HIM?!

She already had a boyfriend, a secret one on the least, Sonic. There was no one but him in her heart. Now and forever.

She loved him very dearly since they were kids and now they were finally together. She loved him and he loved her.

Right?

Amy laid down on the grass as she drifted on her thoughts, looking at the blue wide sky.

Sonic...

Sonic...

Sonic...

Shad-

.

.

.

Shadow swore that she was going to give a piece of his mind to the pink one once he finds her. He kept looking all over the place, and even went back to the camp several times.

Didn't she know how annoying it was to walk?

And the pain it was to run?

As the Ultimate Life Form, if Shadow wanted to go somewhere, he just ran. Front and back without getting tired. Now he had to worry about keeping a constant breathing pattern if he didn't want to get tired too fast.

It was just so annoying being a normal Mobian.

After walking some more, he had finally found her.

Sleeping.

Now she's really going to get it.

Making him worried and panic, he was really about to start screaming her name and she dared to be asleep?

Not like he cared enough about her to do that, no, this girl was as worth as trash to him. Yeah, she didn't matter at all, but that wasn't the case right now,

Who in the world did this girl think she was?

Shadow decided to have good use of the River. He was going to wake up Amy in the worst way. He mustered up all of the strength and rolled her to the river.

Wow, I am heavy. I should work out more.

He thought as he successfully placed Amy on the river with aloud 'Splash!'

He waited for her to start screaming at him, angry and irritated.

He waited a few seconds.

And a few more

"SH*T!"

Shadow jumped to the river and as he tried to pick up Amy, he struggled way too much. Her whole body was wet and the water and its current made it difficult for him to raise her.

He got desperate, this was supposed to be a stupid prank. This wasn't supposed to escalate so drastically.

Why in the world she hasn't woken up?"

Finally, Shadow felt Amy's body being lifted by an unknown force. He was too concentrated on getting out of the water himself that he hadn't noticed that a local Villager had come to help him.

Shadow finally got out of the water and sighed in relief to see that Amy was breathing.

"Seems like I got here at the right time." The villager said as he looked at Shadow.

"Yes...Yes, you did."

.

.

.

Shadow well knew Dream Village, a few years back, he had lived within the community. Everyone knew him, and so, the whole village showed concern when the body of Shadow the hedgehog was brought up to the Queen of the Village. Of course, no one knew that the one inside Shadow's body was Amy.

The doors of the castle open as he recognizes an old friend running towards them.

"What happened? What did you do to him?" The Queen asked Shadow angrily, unaware that she was, in fact, talking to Shadow himself.

"There's a lot of things I have to tell you, Elena."

.

.

.

"So, you switched bodies with the pink one? She is trapped in your body and you are trapped in hers?", Elena asked Shadow. They were both on a bedroom, watching Amy sleep. Shadow in one corner of the room, arms crossed; he placed his right foot on the wall to be more comfortable. Elena the fox, Queen of Dream Village, delicately sat on a chair next to the black hedgehog's body.

"Yes, and now for some reason, she can't wake up."

"Doctors have told me she must have scared a Yume Mushroom, making it release a powder that makes you sleep."

"Is it curable?"

"Yes"

"Well, will you tell me what's the cure?"

"First answer me something" Elena stood up from her chair and walked across the room towards Shadow. "Why did you come back?"

"To get our bodies back, we need to find the broken pieces and put them back together to form the Purple Gem...and we know one of the pieces is here," Shadow said as he looked at the red fox on the eyes.

"So...you didn't come back for me?", She questioned.

"If I had come because of you, believe me, I wouldn't show up in this body." Shadow tried to move away but Elena had grabbed him by the arm, making him look to her blue gaze.

"I don't care in what body you are..." Elena took a few seconds to get closer to his face. " You could stay like this and be with me...you know that I never cared if its a boy or a girl, it's you who I like...and your friend's body is not bad. Actually, is pretty above average, a very beautiful hedgehog indeed."

"I am honored your majesty, but", Shadow was finally able to break free from her grasp. He walked towards Amy's bed. " I don't feel comfortable in this body, I would very much like my body back...so, could you please tell me how to wake up Amy and give me the broken fragment of the Purple Gem?"

"Being on the wrong body...is something I had to live with since I was small, so I know what you must feel like...Fine, I'll give you the piece of the broken Purple Gem but under one condition..." Elena had changed her go flirty attitude to a more serious one. "Once you put the Purple Gem back together and have returned to your body, bring me the Purple Gem...there's something I must do with it."

"Yes, my Queen."

Shadow didn't bow but smiled at his old friend. Shadow had to confess that she was probably the only person who had his respect. She had helped him localize all the Chaos Emerald before without asking a single question, she had confided in him and him in her. They had a long history together that it would be too long to describe in a single paper.

Elena smiled back. "Well, the only way to wake up your friend is...with a kiss."

"I didn't you as one to joke around," Shadow said.

"That's because I don't make jokes." Elena simply said. She knew she had lost the battle as soon as she Shadow's worried face. Shadow could have been a great friend to her, but not even once in their years of friendship had Shadow showed such emotion towards her or anyone.

The pink one must be changing him and for the better.

"...Fine." Shadow didn't want to think too much about it. It was just a kiss, just lips against lips...nothing more. No feelings were needed.

So then, why was his heart beating so fast?

For Chaos' sake, it was just the pink brat, why was he getting so nervous for?

Come on Shadow, just do it!

He was slowly getting closer and closer to her face, he closed his eyes as soon as he felt her breathing coming out of her nose. Any minute now, their lips would touch...just right now.

"PERVERT!"

Shadow felt Amy's hammer hit against his head, making him fall to the floor.

"WHAT THE HECK ROSE, I WAS TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP!", Shadow said as he quickly stood up from the floor, facing her.

"YOU WERE GOING TO KISS ME WHILE I WAS ASLEEP!" Amy said screaming at him, rapidly standing from her bed.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Shadow..." Elena had an evil smile on her face. "Before entering the room, I had sent a knight to kiss Amy and she woke up...that still doesn't explain why she was asleep when we entered."

"YOU WERE EAVESDROPPING ON US!", Shadow exclaimed.

"IT WASN'T LIKE THERE WAS ANYTHING WORTH EAVESDROPPING ON! IT WAS JUST YOU BEING A HORNY TEENAGER!",Amy turned her face away from the black hedgehog, not wanting to show her anger.

"YOU LITTLE BRAT, I SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU SLEEP FOREVER!"

"YOU NEED ME TO SWITCH BODIES BACK, IDIOT!"

Elena smiled to herself.

She had made the right choice

.

.

"Can you pass me the water?" Shadow asked Amy as it was his turn to pilot the Tornado.

"Why don't you ask Elena, I am sure she would love to give it to you.", Amy said with a mocking face.

"Thanks to her we got one broken piece of the Purple Gem, food and a warm bed and you are angry at her? What did she do to you?"

"It's not like you would understand, you guys move your tails whenever a beautiful girl passes by." Amy kept looking at the sea, even to her it was strange to get this angry.

"Are you...jealous?",Shadow asked.

Amy snapped her head to look at him. "Me? Jealous? I-I, no! Don't get confused idio-

"Because that's good! Now you know how it feels!", Shadow said without thinking.

"What?"

"Whenever I walk around the Villages, guys look at my body, your body! I can't help but want to punch them in the face and-"

Shoot.

Shadow realized that he had been talking none stop. That his thoughts came out of his mouth without him noticing. He looked at Amy who had an evident tint of pink on her cheeks. "Not like I am jealous! I couldn't care less, I just hate everybody and want to punch everyone just because! This is me just looking for excuses to punch everyone!"

Shadow began to panic, his had begun to sweat and Amy still had no response whatsoever.

"UHG, JUST FORGET WHAT I SAID...JUST FORGET IT... I HATE YOU DAMMIT!

.

.

.

.

.

.

Next: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/186757026195/that-makes-us-two-chapter-5-name

Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/186691118880/that-makes-us-two-chapter-3-affliction

[hightress]

The Grumpy Cat And The Barista

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AO3 Link

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairing: Kiribaku, Bakushima

Characters: Kirishima, Bakugou, Todoroki, Jirou 

Additional Tags:  Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, writer Bakugou, Barista Kirishima Eijirou, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Cat Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia)                    

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 5,796

Summary: In which Bakugou needs a place to write and learns that a Kitty Café is definitely not the best place to do it.

OK, so here's the deal. Bakugou didn't enjoy writing - not the act of it anyway. It took too much time and the rewards were too little to satisfy him. His back ached after a day in front of his computer and his eyes stung because of the screen. He hated it. If he could, he would've thrown the laptop out the window without any regrets. The only reason why he didn't was that, despite all pain and wasted time, it helped him.

He's never been a patient person and he just couldn't suffer to see or hear certain things sometimes and do nothing. It was so easy to get angry just by walking down the street. Just having someone bump into him and say nothing or hearing the screams of the still hangover students that lived close to him was more than enough to make him want to act, either by shouting back at them or punching something, even someone's face. And, apparently, that wasn't a normal reaction to have.

It wasn't Bakugou's problem that most people were too terrified to have an opinion.

So, if he couldn't react in real life as he wanted because, c'mon, being arrested for something as petty as a shouting contest or light punch was the furthest thing he needed in his life, he was going to do it somewhere else. In a place that he could control and punish people that annoyed him as he liked.

Of course, writing hadn't been his first choice. Or his tenth one. But it worked better than any sport ever could.

The paper listened and never judged. Never tried to fix him or nagged him to be a better person. Just took his anger, his harsh words and turned them into something.

"Die!" shouted Bakugou, using the pen in his hand like some sort of knife, leaving messy marks all over paper as he finished another paragraph. Alternating the computer with the old-school approach was a new thing, but it worked nevertheless.

A sigh could be heard from the other side of the room.

"Did you just kill me? Again?" asked Todoroki, voice full of exasperation. He was lying in his bed, messy hair coloring his light blue sheets and eyes closed. Exhausted was the best way to describe him at that moment, clearly stated by the dark circles under his eyes. Having an exam at 7 in the morning was tough and a small break after was understandable, but to someone like Bakugou, it felt like a complete waste of time.

Bakugou's only answer had been a snort. He's spent enough months with Todoroki since they've both moved in the flat at the beginning of the year to understand him properly and hate his guts.

(Not that it would've been difficult to get Bakugou to hate something.)

Whenever he looked at Todoroki, all he could think about was 'wasted potential'. Extremely smart, with enough family connections to make the university's attempts of getting the students decent placements seem like a joke, he had everything he needed to be the best in their year. He was close to the top, but for Bakugou the word 'close' ruined everything. Why be 'good' or 'decent' when you can be the best? The second place wasn't good enough. And would never be for Bakugou.

Bakugou could only dream about such connections and, for an aspiring lawyer, they were everything.

The saddest part was that Todoroki had so much more than that. Bakugou had seen him in action - defending a case, building it up. He was good. More than that, he was impressive, but only when he was serious about it.

So, yeah, Bakugou hated him and, since he couldn't punch Todoroki, killing him was a great alternative. After all, even his breathing pattern annoyed Bakugou sometimes - he wrote about it. And took it to the extreme.

"It's the third time in four chapters, isn't it? If you ever hope to publish that, don't you think your readers will complain?" asked Todoroki, not impressed by the act itself. He got used to Bakugou's antics after the first two months. Getting murdered in a fictional story wasn't that fascinating.

Bakugou answered immediately in the only way he knew how to communicate - loudly.

"They'd rather thank me for getting rid of your stupid ass," he shouted. "Now shut up, you piece of shit. I need to focus on this."

Todoroki opened one eye to look at him.

"Do you even want it to be published? Is there some action besides the random killing?" Both were legit questions. And Bakugou had no idea how to answer either of them.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Say one more word and I'll make it four times. Don't test me," he threatened, fingers tightly clenched around the pen, ready to keep his word.

Todoroki didn't say anything after that, just closed his eyes and rolled over, his back facing Bakugou.

For a good full minute, Bakugou really believed he fell asleep.

"You know," he suddenly spoke again, startling Bakugou and breaking the illusion, not moving an inch. "If you really  want to write, maybe you can do it in a place where it'll be easier for you to concentrate."

Which could've translated as 'I want to sleep and you're screaming too much'. Or not. It didn't matter.

Despite what a huge part of him wanted - which was to shout some more at Todoroki or even throw some ink in his face - Bakugou considered his proposal. It didn't sound that bad.

"Like where?"

He didn't know what he expected, but having Todoroki deep in thought for a period of time too long to be socially acceptable only to blurt out a weak  "A park...?" definitely wasn't it.

"A park?" repeated Bakugou. "Are you dumb, assface?" When Todoroki said nothing in his defence, Bakugou explained "There are hundreds of kids in there. Hundreds of loud, bitchy little shits. Fuck no, I'm not going there."

Why did he even try to ask someone like Todoroki in the first place? His social skills were disastrous and that, coming from Bakugou, meant something. He still found himself asking further.

"Any other ideas, genius?"

After another short pause, Todoroki answered, even though his confidence in his own words was just as absent as the previous time.

"Maybe... Maybe a coffee shop?" he said, clearly aware of how unhelpful the suggestion was for someone like Bakugou. For any other person, a place like that might've worked, but surrounding Bakugou with gossiping teenagers and filling him with caffeine? Bad combination.

"Like every single loser? Classic. You're so fucking useless," said Bakugou as he sat up. He grabbed all his papers and his laptop, shoving them all a bit too aggressively in a backpack.

None of them doubted the state of the papers inside - horribly folded and almost ripped in two or three places. Another thing that made the bag heavier than necessary was a law textbook that Bakugou intended to finish by the end of the week. End of exams be damned, he refused to fall behind. That way, if he didn't feel like writing, he was sure as hell not going to waste time like a fucking wimp.

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he looked one last time at Todoroki's back and shouted for good measure, just to be an asshole.

"Enjoy your damn nap!"

He closed the door with a loud 'bang' and left the building one minute after that, still undecided about where he was headed. He contemplated going to the library - it would've been quieter at least - but, at the same time, since it was part of the university, he knew the chances of meeting someone that knew him were pretty high. And he definitely didn't feel like dealing with any of them, especially when he was working on something so personal.

Todoroki finding out had been an accident, to begin with. He didn't want to share his written work with anyone. It was his business, ok? If he felt like murdering people, it was his fucking decision. The last thing he wanted was some moron's opinion about how he should be doing things.

So, yeah, he had no idea where to go, but that's what Google Maps was for, right? He'd only need to type 'café' once and decide on one close enough.

(Todoroki's idea still sucked. But Bakugou couldn't think of anything more decent and he didn't have time to waste on something so stupid.)

The maps would've been a wonderful option. Incredible even. Sadly, because Bakugou had to be Bakugou, he forgot to charge his phone the day before.

"Of-fucking-course," he muttered under his breath shoving the phone in one of his pockets. He had no other choice but to walk around like a freaking tourist hoping to find something where he could work in peace.

Surprisingly enough, after fifteen minutes of searching like a retard, all he managed to find was a bakery (which was a huge no) and a place that only sold bagels. Again, a huge no.

It took him ten more minutes to reach a building that had 'Café' written in huge, bold letters above the door and when he saw it, he didn't bother to read what was placed before or after any other shit. He was thirsty and annoyed and tired and even if he hadn't actually wanted a drink before, he sure as hell wanted one then.

The second he stepped inside, he realized he made a mistake.

There was purple - everywhere. Purple cushions, purple pillows, purple uniforms, purple toys. Yes, fucking toys, for cats because - guess what - there were cats all over the damn place.

Did Bakugou mention that he couldn't stand cats? They were whiny and needy and lame and he couldn't care less. How people managed to live with them and not murder them in the middle of the goddamn night was a fucking miracle.

He was already turning around, ready to leave the place and go write on the bus or some other shit like that, when one of the people working there had the audacity to talk to him. And Bukugou, being his usual self, didn't listen to any word the person said. However, as soon as the other finished the sentence or question or whatever, because Bakugou had been raised to be polite enough, he moved his head to the side to shout his usual 'Fuck off' before exiting the building, only to swallow his words when his eyes met the person that addressed him.

And what left his mouth had been a non-contained shout of "What the hell is that?", followed by an awkward silence.

Everyone stared at him, unmoving. Funny how the entire atmosphere of the shop changed in a millisecond because of something he did. He didn't give a fuck.

The person that got that reaction out of him didn't frown, didn't complain about the volume or anything like that. He just sat next to the desk at the entrance, looking at Bakugou with confusion.

"That wasn't very specific, man." said the guy, tilting his head to the side. Not that Bakugou followed the movement, still too intrigued (and disgusted) by the top of the other's head, unable to tear his eyes away from the weird shape found there.

"Do you call that hair?" asked Bakugou, his volume high and words unfiltered. But how could he do anything but that when that haircut (did he really pay for that shit?) was such a disgrace to human nature?

It was red, but not any kind of red, that type that literally jumped in your face and attacked you with the intensity of the colour. The worst part, however, was its entire form. Hair wasn't supposed to work like that - spikes of different sizes defying gravity and looking like an absolute mistake.

Why were they all staring at him like he just killed Jesus when his question was so fucking valid? They couldn't have not thought about it at least once in their sorry lives. If they thought he was rude, they were either used to lying to themselves or plain stupid.

Judging from the place they were at, either working or fucking around, it could've been both.

Only one person in the entire damn shop didn't seem to take it to heart. The single damn guy that had the right to actually feel attacked.

"Yeah. Isn't it cool?" he asked, smiling brightly and genuinely, as of Bakugou had just complimented, not only his hair, but every single thing about him. His eyes (also red because of course they had to be) were sparkling, for fuck's sake.

How the hell was Bakugou supposed to react to this? He couldn't scream 'I just insulted you, moron. Why the fuck are you so happy about it?'. Actually, he could, but he didn't want or need to make conversation or some shit like that.

So he settled for the better alternative. A growled, "It looks like something died in there."

Not even that kind of comment wiped the smile from the bastard's face. "Never thought of it that way. But it's a good thing, right?" It was unnerving.

Definitely not, thought Bakugou, gritting his teeth.

Was the guy on drugs? Before Bakugou could think this through, the other's grin only widened, if that was even possible. He scanned Bakugou from head to toe and exclaimed "Love your shirt, man. Is it from Forbidden Planet?"

Bakugou instinctively looked down at himself. To be honest, he had forgotten what he had thrown on himself in the morning. It was a normal occurrence - it was black and loose, that's all he needed to know. There was a skull on the front, contrasting heavily with the dark background. It was sick. Bakugou loved it, but that didn't explain this stranger's enthusiasm regarding it. Or what that Forbidden Planet place was.

He hated not understanding things.

"Huh?" he asked, or, more exactly, emitted with confusion. The sound was loud enough to make the person next to him cringe at the volume, but, somehow, it got covered completely by another voice, this time from one of the losers working there.

"Kirishima!" shouted a girl, her headphones hanging around her neck. The guy turned towards her instantly. "Are you going to do your job or not?"

He didn't grimace, didn't show any specific remorse. Just stayed as a sunny beam of bullshit.

"Yeah, sorry. In a second," the guy promised and looked at Bakugou once again. "It's an awesome shop two streets away from here. Definitely worth checking out," he explained before quickly adding: "By the way, I'm supposed to ask - do you have a reservation?"

"Was I supposed to?" Reservations were stupid and why the hell would he even make one? He didn't intend to stay anyway, not with all that purple and the constant meowing of hundreds (more like fifteen, but who was he to count) of cats.

Kirishima - the red tornado guy of sunshine - didn't seem to get the memo. "It's kind of a rule. Don't worry though, we have enough space at the moment. Just wait for a second and I'll fetch you a table."

"I don't need a damn table," mumbled Bakugou, his words muffled by the cries of three or four cats that decided to open their goddamn mouths in that exact same moment. It wasn't surprising at all that Kirishima didn't hear anything from him with all that noise.

He simply grabbed Bakugou's elbow (who the hell did that to a stranger, what the fuck?) as gently as possible, while still having a pretty strong hold on him and manoeuvring him around the café as if he was a bag of chips. Which, he, obviously, wasn't. It wasn't that big of a shop anyway and, in the 20-30 seconds it took them to move around it, Bakugou realized a couple things.

First of all, the guy needed to fucking let go of him or he was going to end up dead for real, not just on paper. Or cremated or some other shit. Second of all, having 'enough space' was a freaking lie. They barely had a chair to spare and the ones that were available had at least one cat acting like a complete brat on top of them. There was even a table where a guy had been forced to sit on the stairs next to his friends in order to let one of those furred fuckers to keep his seat. Such a wimp. If he allowed an animal to order him around and control his life, he definitely deserved to be called a loser.

And, lastly, why did these people have a perfectly fine table for two in the far corner of the shop unoccupied when it was so clear that they were overcrowded? Because that's exactly where Kirishima took him.

"Is this ok with you, man?" he had asked as he positioned Bakugou right in front of the table, his hands tapping twice his shoulders before letting him go.

Bakugou, uncharacteristically, didn't comment on the gesture, too confused about being moved around and touched so familiarly to function as he normally would - with a lot of trashing around and screams and murder promises. Not that he couldn't get to that later, as soon as he snapped out of it.

"Whatever," he said instead, moving his head to the side, not wanting to stare at Kirishima more than necessary. He wanted him gone already. Having him this close made Bakugou feel like he was slightly suffocating.

And some God above must've pitied him enough to answer his wish.

"I'll take that as a yes then," said Kirishima and smiled. "Sadly, I have to go and help some other customers, but I'll be back to you shortly. Order anything you want, I promise they are all good."

After that, he left, and Bakugou found himself standing next to the table he's been led to, no knowing how to react. But it would've been weird to chose that moment to get out of that place, especially after his interaction with Kirishima. He knew that. That's why he decided to stay, nothing more, nothing less. As he lowered himself to his seat, he noted the softness of the pillow stuck to the chair. It might've been coloured like a glowing unicorn skin, but he couldn't really deny its comfiness.

The menu was placed neatly in the centre of the table and, from the looks of it, was going to stay there for the rest of the day. Call him picky or whatever, but he wasn't going to touch something that had pink lettering, badly pixelated as well, on top of a violet pattern of a cat in heat. (It had hearts instead of eyes, sue him for having an opinion. It was a horrifying image anyway.)

He took his time to lay down his things, taking in the whole atmosphere of the shop. After all, if he wanted to work there, he needed to decide if it was possible to focus with all of the continuous noise and movement involved. It wasn't as bad as he initially thought, the loudest thing to be heard were the voices of the employers and even they didn't give Bakugou an excuse to get lost. The only apparent problem remained the cats - the most volatile subject included in the equation. He didn't know what to expect, if any of them scratched or if they were going to leave hair all over his things if he turned around for merely a second. At that hour, most of them seemed to be asleep, only two or three walking around the shop with their tails high in the air like some self-declared divas. Only one cared for human touch, the others running away before they were even approached.

Bakugou didn't blame them. He would've done the same after he made them bleed if he had sharp pointy things at the end of his fingers and someone had nothing better to do than to annoy him.

Even after he had the whole table turned into his own personal desk, he didn't start, just kept looking around, not sure himself what for. All he knew was that his eyes kept looking back at the strange guy from before, either by accident or attracted by the energy in his voice.

He was entertaining to watch, to say at least. And his hair was starting to feel less and less like the worst part. As soon as he noticed the uniform, he flinched, unsure how he had missed it before. One would think that by that point Bakugou might've gotten used to the colours, but that definitely wasn't the case when he felt like tearing his own eyes out just by glancing twice at the pink and violet paw patterns placed all over their aprons. The silver glitter didn't make it any better. All of that - including the mandatory fake cat ears that everyone working there seemed to wear - had the potential to work on a girl. It was girly, it made sense, and it could be seen clearly in the shop since most of the employers were of the opposite sex, but on a male like that Kirishima? He didn't get it.

It seemed like a bad marketing strategy.

Bakugou could see muscles under that shirt, decent ones nevertheless. Why have something like that hidden just because their stupid uniform demanded it?

As soon as he remarked this, looking away became even more difficult. He had to force himself to move his attention back to his work and, even when he did, it took him a few minutes to focus properly. After that, it was easy to lose himself in his words, paragraph after paragraph lying there one after the other, bloody and way too descriptive for a simple therapeutic piece of writing.

He had little over a page finished by the time he got interrupted and a much calmer mind to deal with the rest of the world.

"Hey," said Kirishima, appearing from his left, a small notebook in his hands. Once again, too casual, too close, too soon. "Sorry, that took a while. What would you like me to bring you?"

Bakugou stared at his face, silent for a few moments, still trapped somewhere between his the place built by his words and where his body was actually placed. It was a weird feeling, not bad exactly, just difficult to describe. When he managed to answer, Kirishima was already looking at him with something close to concern in those red eyes of his.

"I don't care," he said and, despite the harsh wording, his tone was soft, as if he breathed the words out, not said them.

It was unusual, wasn't it? To answer something like that. Kirishima didn't seem to mind this either.

"Oh. Do you need more time or do you want me to recommend something?"

How could he be so patient?

"I'm not sure I trust your taste," replied Bakugou, not intending to be rude, but stating something he felt the need to let out.

"Don't worry, dude. I've got you," said Kirishima cheerily, closing the notebook and throwing it in one of his back pockets. "I'm assuming you're not into the whole extra-cream-extra-sweet thing, so maybe you'd like Jirou's orange espresso. Or her chocolate ones. Or the ones with a bit of caramel in the mix. Your call."

Who the fuck is Jirou?  

"They all sound terrible. What do you make? Or are you here just as some sort of mascot?"

"I make the tea. The manager doesn't really let me try more than that after last week's accident."

Did he even want to know about the incident? Probably not. Tea definitely didn't sound too bad compared to the other drinks.

"If I order one would you let me be?" he asked, wanting to be left alone. He had things to do and didn't have the time to chat with strangers.

And Kirishima... He... He had the fucking audacity to wink at him.

"We'll see."

Why wasn't Kirishima acting like a stranger towards him? It was weird for so many reasons. All those jokes and interest were happening too suddenly and Bakugou wasn't able to catch up with all of it. Was he acting like this with all customers or did it happen to be Bakugou's (un)lucky day?

Bakugou followed him with his eyes for a while, craving the answer to this question. Kirishima did talk a lot and whenever he approached a table, his smile grew wider and, in the back of his mind, Bakugou kind of wanted to touch his face and see if it was real or not. It looked real and, when Kirishima did it in front of him, it kind of felt real as well.

In all honesty, if Bakugou could admit something out loud, it was that he was selfish enough to want the smiles Kirishima gave him to be different than the rest. All those people, they had friends and family smiling at them like that every day. Bakugou didn't. He never thought he would want it, but he did. He really did.

People were scared of him or, at best, their smiles were mostly teasing, born out of boredom. He didn't fucking need teasing or anything as shallow as that. He wanted something truthful. Something real.

Bakugou didn't touch the paper. Didn't write a damn word. Just kept looking from the corner he was seated in, eyes widening whenever he saw Kirishima glance his way. It wasn't as rare as he would've expected but definitely not as much as his ego needed.

Sadly, it wasn't just Bakugou who craved his attention. Two cats were playing between his legs, purring and placing their tiny paws on his dark jeans, doing everything in their power to make Kirishima give them a few seconds of his time. He did it with the widest grin on his face, stopping mid-sentence during his conversation with a customer, and picked them up both, placing their cute fluffy heads on his chest as his arms carried them without a problem.

The contrast between the solid muscle and the gentleness of the gesture made Bakugou want to bark at the scene.

He wasn't jealous of a cat. He wasn't. That would've been idiotic.

"So..." started a feminine voice, interrupting his line of thought. "Do you want the tea now or should I come back later, once you're done trying to skin Kirishima alive with your eyes?"

It was the girl from before, the one with the short pixie-cut and headphones. Her tone had been a mix between monotonous and amused, her mouth forced into a straight line and her eyes full of mischief. Bakugou didn't know her and definitely didn't want to, but he sure as hell wasn't going to stay silent at her accusation.

"What's your problem?"

"I've been standing here for a full minute trying to figure out how to serve the tea Kirishima made for you, but you were too busy making lovey-dovey eyes at him to notice." Before he could explode, she kept talking. "Do you want it or not."

"Of course I do." he raged, taking the cup out of her hands. Which might've not been the most polite or normal move, he could give her that, but it was too late to excuse his sudden action. "And I never make that lovey-dovey shit. What the hell?"

Her nose made one of those movements - getting all wrinkly on one side in a judgemental way - and she stared at him flatly as she spoke again.

"You're quite the poet, aren't you?"

"And you're quite a bitch."

(The comeback of the century, wasn't it?)

She rolled her eyes so hard it must've hurt. "I have no idea why I expected Kirishima to be attracted to someone normal this time," she said to no-one. She threw him another short glance. "Definitely not the case."

That was the moment in which Bakugou would've probably cracked her skull open. Fictionally, obviously, he wasn't a barbarian. He didn't, however, because he kept replaying the first half of her words.

It must've shown on his face because she snorted and said: "You can't possibly be that blind."

Despite the insult, he couldn't really comment on it. Not when his brain was suddenly working like a maniac, trying to see what kind of gestures could've given the girl that impression.

Had it been the touching or the familiarity in his way of talking? Or maybe the wink, that one definitely seemed out of place, considering the fact that they've just met. It was difficult to tell.

"So, jerkface," the girl addressed him again. "Do you want his number or not?"

He could've said no without missing a single beat. His hesitation to do so was speaking volumes. He wasn't thinking about any storyline or character or action-packed scene full of blood and gore, no. Instead, he kept looking less and less discretely at Kirishima, his eyes tracing those impressive arms and back that simply seemed to jump out of that stupid shirt, only to go back to his contagious smile. If it hadn't been to that smile, Bakugou was sure he would've been outside long before the girl opened her mouth. Or he would've scoffed and mumbled a short 'fuck no', before ignoring her. But, as the situation stood, he couldn't say that he was against the idea.

Bakugou hadn't been honest with himself earlier when he insisted on being left alone. The guy intrigued him. His brightness - God, it sounded so idiotic to call it that - was something he couldn't comprehend. He wanted to know more. Wanted to understand how it worked and how he could smile so much and be so open, even to people he did not know.

The girl gave him all the time in the world to make up his mind, not rushing him in the slightest. Secretly, he was thankful for that.

He moved his head to the side, seeing another one of those furry creatures blinking repeatedly as if trying hard not accommodate their eyes to the light. Served them right for sleeping so much. Brats.

As if possessed by something, Bakugou found himself almost smiling at the image. Somehow, the stillness of the cat calmed him. It was weird, he knew.

It's just a number, anyway. It's not like I have to call the guy.  

(Yeah, he probably wouldn't call. But messaging was another thing entirely.)

He raised his chin towards the girl and, with a new and probably strangely placed determination, he said: "Give it to me."

She did. After a few threats, of course, but who was Bakugou to listen when he had so many other things to focus on? (Apparently, she also mentioned some sort of entrance fee that Kirishima forgot to tell him about or ask for, which was outrageous. Bakugou thought he heard the price and he really wished he hadn't. Thank fuck he had only ordered some pitiful tea. His wallet wouldn't have been able to cover anything else.)

The girl left his table soon after that. Bakugou didn't hesitate. He drank the tea as if it was a shot of tequila, not a mix of hot water and leaves, and threw the amount of money he owed Kirishima on the table, as he sat up. Didn't wait for Kirishima to approach him again and collected his things in silence.

He noticed those red eyes follow his movements and he stared right back at him, this time without any hesitation. His steps were loud and firmly placed on the ground as he moved towards Kirishima. When he got close enough, he stopped for a second, barely enough to say a sentence.

"You'd better check your phone, asshole." No smirk was added at the end of it. No smile or anything else. He said it bluntly, in the most serious way he could muster.

Because if he was going to do this, it had to be a serious matter. He didn't do flings. He didn't do relationships either and, if it, by any chance, was going to end up in that direction, it had to start the right way.

Kirishima's face stayed blank for a few moments, probably taken aback by Bakugou's sudden change of attitude. Or by how cryptic his words were when thrown in his face like that. It didn't take long, though, and his face erupted in one of the most blinding smiles Bakugou had ever seen. So fucking bright it could've probably made any lamp feel incredibly useless.

"Sure thing, man," he said, his voice rich and full of life. He patted Bakugou on the shoulder twice, the strength of his arm easy to remark without it being too much for Bakugou to handle. He quite liked having that kind of weight on his, pressed on his skin.

Their eyes stayed connected for a bit longer, a few seconds at most, before both of them moved away, Kirishima turning his body halfway towards the customers he's been talking to before Bakugou interrupted him, and Bakugou continuing his walk out the door.

Nothing stopped him this time.

He glanced at the door before he let go of it, seeing Kirishima's vibrant hair colour even though the dirty mirror, the sound of it closing being louder than he anticipated.

He stayed there for a bit, right in front of the coffee shop, blocking the entrance, his phone still in his hand, the contact list visible to anyone who passed by him. And there, right in the middle of the pace, two centimeters away from his thumb, stood Kirishima's name.

Well, not actually his name, but a nickname Bakugou saw fit. 'Shitty hair' - what a horrible nickname. But Bakugou liked it.

Despite everything that happened that day, the stupid nickname did it. It made him smile. Properly. So brutally genuine it should've made him sick.

As he moved his thumb across the screen, he realized something. He didn't regret going inside that coffee shop. At all. Not even 0.001% of him.

He tossed the phone back in his pocket and started to use his feet. The laptop on his back was heavy enough to be a constant reminder of the reason why he left the house, but Bakugou didn't feel like writing anymore.

He wasn't in the mood to murder anyone at that moment. Just wanted to go home, throw himself on the bed and shout at Todoroki to get the fuck out of his room so he could text Kirishima without any distractions.

He liked this plan. He really, really liked this plan

[words-writ-in-starlight]

hi, it's the adhd anon again. according to the dsm-v, i think i have it, which is weird bc i've never seen myself as having more trouble than others. (my grades are better than almost anyone else in my grade.) (although that might just be bc i'm interested in what's being taught - when something's not interesting or too hard, i have a pretty hard time doing it.) anyway, if it's not too much trouble, what does feel like to stim/hyperfixtate for you? (i'm so sorry to bother you in advance)

Hey, dude, welcome back!  So, okay, first things first: the stereotype of someone with ADHD automatically doing terribly in school is based heavily on the original diagnostic criteria, which categorized ADHD strictly in terms of “young hyperactive white boy who has violent outbursts and/or disciplinary problems and Just Doesn’t Do Well in academics.”  And there are people who manifest ADHD like that, it’s a stereotype with roots in reality--a lot of people with ADHD either consistently struggle with academics or eventually reach a point where their previous focusing techniques fail them.

However.

I left high school for college two years early, and if I hadn’t, I would probably been valedictorian of the graduating class, because I had a GPA well above 4.0 due to my general habit of doing extra credit whenever it was offered.  In college, I had a reputation for turning in beautifully complete lab reports and essays five pages over the minimum requirement.  I got high honors on my thesis, graduated magna cum laude, and finished a pre-medical major in half the recommended time period.  When I was a kid, the phrase “savant syndrome” got thrown around a lot, to give you some context.

On the other hand, I manifest a lot of those stereotypical ADHD symptoms: I’m loud, I interrupt people a lot, I have erratic and overwhelming mood swings that I struggle to control, I fidget incessantly and can’t stand silence, I have a tendency to get destructive when I’m angry, I have managed to seriously injure myself because I couldn’t resist a stupid impulse more than once, and if we’re all being honest, I would never have graduated high school at all, because I was on the brink of expulsion for getting into fights during class periods.  

It’s easy to feel like “I never really struggled academically” is somehow a counterargument to any and all symptoms of ADHD that you might manifest, but it’s really not.  (Heck, sometimes ADHD is even helpful--I finished my thesis a full week before anyone else and had time to fix my citations, mostly because my ADHD responds well to pressure and that crunch time hyperfocus Had My Back.)  It might take time for you to come to terms with this idea, and that’s okay!  But try to at least consider it.

All that being said, I am actually gonna answer your question, I just got distracted because the amount of time I spent making the statement “I’m faking having ADHD because I did well in school” is mindblowing and I have a Thing about it.  Forgive my ramble.

Stimming: I’m going to answer this first because the answer is going to be the most useless.  The ways I stim tend to be vocal/auditory stuff (I talk a lot when I’m alone, I sing and play music when I’m doing menial tasks, if I’m really anxious I’ll hum a single note until I calm down) or tactile stuff (sometimes destructive things like scratching my arms, sometimes neutral stuff like tapping my fingers in specific patterns or rubbing my palms over my jeans or the leather of a jacket or something).  It’s mostly things that ‘pass’ for neurotypical with very few exceptions, because I trained myself out of a lot of my ‘non-passing’ stims (rocking back and forth, knocking into walls, hand-flapping, that sort of thing) really young.  As for what it feels like to stim, it’s just...good.  It’s sort of like the brain equivalent of running your hand the right way along velvet, and discovering that you’ve been rubbing it backwards all along.  Or like the equivalent of stepping into a cool shower on a really hot day--it’s not that it’s miserable outside the shower, it’s just that the shower is extremely good.  I have a playlist of music that, for whatever reason, hits the right combination of voice and rhythm and notes and words to make my brain suddenly get calm, and it’s not necessarily my favorite music or a cohesive collection of tunes or anything (featuring Six Shooter by Coyote Kisses and also Human by Rag’n’Bone Man, which have nothing in common), but it’s Good.

Hyperfocus: You didn’t actually mention this, but I think it’s worth mentioning because it’s one of the hallmarks of ADHD.  It bears more than a passing resemblance to the concept of “flow”, but turned up to 11.  Hyperfocus is the state of being so overwhelmingly tuned in to the thing you’re currently doing that everything else falls away--which is fine, unless you’re one of us folks who can hyperfocus ourselves right through meal times.  It’s inexorable, it’s all-consuming, and it can feel pretty fucking great, which is why it’s important to be careful and find a way to hydrate yourself.  The primary difference between hyperfocus and flow is that hyperfocus is generally involuntary and does not necessarily tune you into something you planned or wanted to pay attention to.  If you ever see me publish a fic that includes a note about “I didn’t mean to write this but it’s 2 AM so here”, that’s code for “please validate me, I’ve been hyperfocused on this for two or three hours and I failed to do a lot of important things as a result.”  The other thing about hyperfocus is that afterwards, the drop coming off it is a real bitch.  It leaves me feeling hollowed out, exhausted, and kind of pettily disinterested in anything that would usually hold my attention.  Being hyperfocused is like being a machine designed to do one thing and one thing only and doing that thing feels incredible; coming off hyperfocus is like being an overtired toddler.

Hyperfixation: Hyperfixations are the ADHD equivalent of a special interest, aka: that thing you’ve been struggling not to pester every single person you know about, every single second of every single day of the past two and a half weeks.  Were you around, dear anon, when this blog was Only Animorphs, All The Time, and if you didn’t give a shit about morphin’ teens you just had to sit down, shut up, and learn some stuff, or else unfollow me?  That’s what hyperfixating looks like.  Sometimes it’s useful stuff--do you know how unbelievably useful having a hyperfixation on triage techniques is to me?  I crushed my triage training, I owned that shit, I wrote a whole chapter of my thesis on it.  Other times, it’s...well, Animorphs.  Or the American Revolution.  Or X-Men.  Or dinosaurs.  Some random shit like that.  Learning about hyperfixations, talking about them, is generally pure unadulterated joy.  On the other hand--oh, God, listen, I know how annoying I am, but I cannot stop myself.  I know I haven’t talked about anything but Animorphs in three weeks, I know I’ve made forty-five TAZ posts today, whatever you’re about to complain about, I already know, okay, I am aware, and there is nothing more painful than to have a fucking out-of-body experience watching yourself rattle on about a hyperfixation while the other person obviously gets bored in front of you.  And then you try to keep your mouth shut and it physically hurts not to talk about the thing.  It’s hard to describe what it ‘feels’ like except that ADHD brains are magpies at their core and hyperfixations are the shiny, shiny objects your brain wants to take home.

Anyway, I’m not sure how useful ANY of this has been, but like.  After a certain point, you kind of have to trust yourself enough to decide, once and for all, whether you really, truly believe you’re faking a neurological disorder for the attention.  If the answer is no, then great!  You have sussed out your symptoms and can start managing them accordingly, whether that’s some helpful apps on your phone or medication or something in between.  If the answer is yes, then you probably need some therapy, and your therapist will be able to help you get to a point where you feel able to trust yourself.

Go with the neurodivergent gods, my dude.

[goffilolo]

Demise of Midoriya Izuku Part 8

God this was a long chapter. I hope you will enjoy it. you can read the full fanfic on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/776826

I’m currently on a christmas break, however i have a very long essay to write so im not sure if ill be able to write/draw any more demise!au stuff.

Izuku was tired.

It was nothing new per se, as for the last month the teenager has become very well acquainted with the feeling of exhaustion as a side effect of his medication. “It’s normal” said Shin during their last appointment “Your brain is still going through an adjustment period, and insomnia is a rather common side effect of a lot of antidepressants”. So yeah, it was all good.

Except it wasn’t.

Given that no one was willing to rid the boy of his sleepless turmoil, Izuku decided to take the matters into his own hands. Because fuck Shin. In the hindsight, all of this was a very bad idea.

It all started during one of his usual conversations with Mrs. Todoroki, only this time they were joined by her daughter Fuyumi. The first observation Izuku made upon her entrance, was that this young woman was almost a splitting image of Mrs. Todoroki, save for the hot red streaks in her hair, undoubtedly inherited from her asshole father. After talking to her for a bit, Izuku was quite pleased to learn that she has not in fact inherited her father’s god tier assholism. Izuku has never met the man, he doesn’t need to, at least not yet.

After brief introductions they have resumed to their previous conversation.

“So how did meeting with piece of shit go?” asked Mrs. Todoroki, her question quickly followed by Fuyumi’s scandalised expression at hearing her mother use such foul language.

“Meh, it was your typical melodrama bullshit. Some shouting and insults were thrown around, well mostly by me, and crying” replied Izuku in a rather nonchalant fashion, completely disregarding Fuyumi’s shock and confusion.

The word got round quickly in this ward, meaning that most of the patients and staff were in on Izuku’s personal drama and so they all came to a silent agreement to refer to Bakugou as ‘piece of shit’ and never call him by his actual name. And so over time Bakugou became the psychiatric ward’s very own Voldemort. But Fuyumi doesn’t know that yet, bless her soul.

“You actually cried?”

“Oh no, not me, piece of shit did. Honestly you should’ve been there, Shin was there for emotional support and kept staring daggers at him, it was hilarious” sneered the boy upon remembering the Bakugou shitshow with some sort of twisted fondness. His enthusiasm was however quickly disrupted by a long, loud yawn coming the boy’s mouth.

“Didn’t get a good night’s sleep?” asked Fuyumi.

“More like a good month’s sleep” snapped Izuku, rubbing his temples as much as the bandage around his head allowed him to. “And that bitch Shin won’t prescribe me anything cause it would clash with my antidepressants” scoffed the boy.

“You know that Dr. Iyashi cares about your wellbeing and wouldn’t want to give you anything with nasty side-effects” said Mrs. Todoroki as she stroked Izuku’s shoulders in a gentle, matherly manner.

“Wait a minute” chimed in Fuyumi “Prescription won’t do, but what about over the counter stuff? There must be some sleep relief that you could take”.

“Oh, really?” said Izuku, with a hint of amusement and sarcasm “What are gonna do? Smuggle some Quil into the hospital for me?”

The determined  smile on Fuyumi’s face told Izuku that indeed, she would. ‘Well then’ thought Izuku ‘This is going to be fun’.

The next day Izuku has found two bottles being dropped onto his lap, while the boy was busy filling up his notebook with sketches of Endeavour being eaten alive by crocodiles. If you looked closely enough you’d also notice that some of them contained an already half eaten Bakugou.

He raised his brow at the bottles, then looked up to see Fuyumi looking very smug.

“I got the Quil” she said, very proud of herself.

“I can see that” replied Izuku, looking back and forth between the two bottles “Why two?” he asked, confusion and curiosity seeping into his voice.

“I forgot whether you needed DayQuil or NyQuil so I got you both!”

Looking at very pleased Fuyumi, Izuku didn’t have it in him to grace the statement with a proper reply that wouldn’t point out the stupidity and irresponsibility of casually getting two substances that are meant to do the exact opposite, which then lead to a train thought of ‘what if you mix them?’.

“Thank you Fuyumi-neesan!”

And thus Izuku was left alone in his hospital room, the notebook long forgotten, staring at the content of the two bottles, as the nerdy part of his brain deciding to wake up and cause drama. ‘If you mix DayQuil and NyQuil, you end up with what, ForeverQuil? Or given that the substances are meant to do the opposite would they cancel each other out and have no effect when consumed simultaneously? No, that doesn’t seem right, it’s more likely that they would disturb a sleeping pattern, but given that mine is already fucked, how would I be able to tell...’

“SHIT, I’m mumbling again!”

So many questions that demand to be answered, a hypothesis that needs a confirmation and a curiosity waiting around the corner, ready to kill the metaphorical cat.

“Ugh, fuck it” said Izuku as he gulped down both substances in one go.

That’s when everything went to shit.

At first he didn’t feel any different. He spent a good portion of time looking out of the window, admiring the weather - it’s almost May so the days were getting brighter, warmer - waiting for something, anything to happen.

Things got a bit blurry after a while. Izuku could feel his BRAIN getting blurry, which he didn’t even know was possible. But apparently losing contact with reality does things to you.

As Izuku slowly regained clarity, the first thing he noticed was the sluggish feeling and the pounding in his head, reminding him of the first time he woke up in this god forsaken loony bin.

The second thing he noticed was the darkness. At first, he thought that one of the nurses has closed the curtains while he was out of it, but no, the curtains were open, and upon closer inspection Izuku came to realisation that it was in fact, night time. Which was strange...to say the least, since it was still sunny just a few seconds ago. ‘Is this some sort of a quirk? Probably not.’ he thought, which meant there was only one option left.

“FUCKIN HELL I TRAVELLED THROUGH TIME!”

His shout was followed by a tired groan, which definitely did not belong to him.

“Dr. Iyashi, he’s at it again!” shouted Mrs. Todoroki.

Wait a minute, Mrs. Todoroki? When did she get here?

Izuku whipped his head to the side, where the woman was sitting in a chair by his bedside, with Shin standing in the doorway, looking down at a clipboard.

“What the-shit did you get in here?” asked Izuku, his brain still sluggish and disoriented about the whole situation.

Shin chooses that moment to walk into the room “Do you remember what happened?” he asked.

“No? I was sitting here and it was day and suddenly it’s night, so obviously it was Quil induced time travel” said Izuku, as his lagging brain allowed for all the ridiculous bullshit to spill out of his mouth.

Shin does not look impressed.

“You absolute, fucking idiot!” shouted the doctor “Why in the world would you mix DayQuil and NyQuil together? Are you completely insane? What did you think would happen?!”

“First of all, if I was sane I wouldn’t even be here. Second of all, who told you about my Quil?” asked the boy, his eyes suddenly focused, full of suspicion.

At that moment Fuyumi poked her head through the entrance and waved at Izuku as she made her way through the room and stood by her mother’s side.

“Sorry, I had to tell him since it’s all my fault you went delirious in the first place” she said, her face portraying nothing but guilt.

“It was very irresponsible of you!” said the doctor, his gaze switching between Izuku and Fuyumi “Not only did you take medication against a doctor’s recommendation, you even roped others into smuggling unauthorised substance into the hospital…”

And Shin went into the ‘ranting dad’ mode. It was a perfect time to zone out.

While the doctor was busy lecturing everyone about the dangers of overdosing and mixing medications, Izuku picked up the discarded notebook in hopes of finishing that sketch of Endeavour being devoured by crocodiles. His drawing skills were improving, that’s for sure. Maybe once he’s finished he’d show it to Mrs. Todoroki.

‘I think she would like that’ thought Izuku.

Except when he opened his notebook on the most recent page, instead of Endeavour massacre, Izuku was met with lines upon lines of text, written in what can only be described as very rushed and frenzied handwriting, which undeniably belonged to Izuku. The pages were also adorned with big bold letters at the top stating ‘ENDEAVOUR THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL’.

‘When did I write that?!’ Izuku was rather astonished as he started to skim through his writing and came to a conclusion that what he was reading was in fact a conspiracy theory. A very detailed one at that.

“Izuku, are you listening?” asked the doctor.

“No” he replied absentmindedly.

But the writing in his notebook and the overall situation left Izuku very confused. The moonlight illuminated parts of the room, a reminder of a mysterious time slip, which apparently was not quil induced time travel. Izuku needed the answers, and he needed them NOW.

“Can anyone tell me what happened?”

His question was met with a long, awkward silence, as the other individuals in the room looked at one another, not knowing what to say.

“Alright…” Mrs. Todoroki broke the silence “...where do we start?”

………………………………………………………………………………

Iyashi Shin was finally having his well deserved lunch break. After starting his shift at 6 am, he felt exhausted and he was barely halfway through. And so Shin planned to have a short nap during his break to recharge. ‘What am I, an old man?’ he thought to himself ‘Probably, at least I’m on a good way to becoming one. Not getting any younger either, I’m turning forty next year.’

‘Ugh, this calls for a mid-life crisis nap’ he thought while lying on the couch in his office, being slowly lulled to sleep by the ticking of the clock.

Suddenly Shin was awakened by an obnoxiously loud laugh coming from the corridor. He was annoyed at having his nap interrupted, but the annoyance was outweighed by sheer curiosity, as one does not get a lot of laughing in this part of the hospital.

The doctor soon  got up and opened the door he was once again met with the obnoxious laugh, only this time louder as it came from a man who was currently walking out of Izuku’s room.

“Haha...it was nice talking to you Midoriya. I’m glad you’re in a good mood” called out the man “I’ll be back tomorrow to check your homework!”

‘Homework? Ah, it must be Izuku’s teacher’ thought Shin with a bit of suspicion as he remembered his patient talking about his homeroom teacher in a … less than friendly manner.

‘So why would the laugh? I thought Izuku hated the guy.’

As the teacher walked away from Izuku’s room he bumped into Shin, who was standing in the middle of the corridor, lost in thought.

“Ah, Dr. Iyashi didn’t see you there!” exclaimed the teacher. He sure was in a good mood, a stark contrast to his usual visits.

“Good afternoon, how was your visit?” asked Shin, trying to squeeze out some details out of the man.

The teacher laughed again trying to get a hold of himself “Oh it was great, I haven’t laughed so much in ages. Whatever meds you put him on, they’re doing god’s work!”

“Really? What did Izuku say?”

“You know Bakugou-kun, right?”

“Of course, the one responsible for the shitstorm that is Izuku’s depression” stated the doctor as a matter of fact.

The teacher stilled his movement, unprepared for the blatant statement. Trying to dissolved the tension, he continued “Yeah, him. Anyways, Midoriya was asking about him and he seemed stuck on on his name so he said…” he stopped for a bit, trying to mimic his student’s voice and speaking manner “ ‘you know the angry, shouty one, what was his name...Fuckugou?’ and I just lost it right there! Buahaha!” sneered the teacher, waiting for Shin to have a similar reaction.

And boy was he not disappointed.

“Fuckugou!” exclaimed Shin “That’s a good one, gotta tell it to the nurses, it will spread like wildfire!”

………………………………………………………………………………

“Fuckugou?” asked Izuku.

“Fuckugou” confirmed Shin.

“That...is funny as hell, but it doesn’t really sound like me.”

“I know, which is why I was concerned. Mind you I still needed my nap, so I asked Mrs. Todoroki to keep an eye on you in the meanwhile” explained the doctor as both him and Izuku turned their heads in the direction of the white haired woman.

………………………………………………………………………………

Mrs. Todoroki was having a good day. And by good she meant boring. In all honesty there’s only so much a person can do in this place before being driven further into insanity. She was currently sitting in the common room in the company of her daughter who has dropped in earlier to give Izuku the sleeping medication they talked about yesterday.

Which is why she was more than a little surprised when Dr. Iyashi approached her, asking to keep an eye on Izuku, who right now should be sleeping like a baby from the medication.

Nevertheless she agreed, as the doctor seemed deeply concerned about the boy who has managed to settle himself nice and cosy in a particular place in her heart; reserved exclusively for her children. ‘Well then’ thought the woman as she came to a realisation ‘Looks like I now have five children.’

Just as Mrs. Todoroki considered brushing off Dr. Iyashi’s concerns, her train of thought was disrupted by a maniacal laugh that belonged to no other than Izuku himself.

The teenager in question wheeled himself into the common room at a speed that should not be achievable for a wheelchair, his hair wilder than usual, eyes wide open, pupils dilated. The boy’s face was devoid of any sanity.

“HOLY SHIT MRS. TODOROKI!” he screamed.

“Are you high?” she asked, full of disbelief at the state the boy was in.

“I got the answers” announced Izuku, completely disregarding the woman’s question.

“What answers?”

“All the answers! To everything! I CAN FEEL THE UNIVERSE EXPANDING IN MY BONES!” shouted Izuku, further disturbing and scaring other occupants of the room.

‘Oh, is this why Dr. Iyashi was concerned? What do I do with him?’

“Right…” said Mrs. Todoroki, hoping to distract the boy for a bit “...why don’t you sit with me and Fuyumi and tell us all the answers? Just remember to keep your voice down” she added in her motherly tone.

Although Izuku seemed quite out of contact with reality, he did as he was told. After wheeling himself next to Fuyumi he whipped out one of his notebooks seemingly out of nowhere and began to speak.

“From the evolutionary standpoint my existence is a liability to human advancement. Every year the number of people born quirkless decreases as our gener are to be replaced with the superior ones of those with quirks. I’m going extinct! Both my parents have quirks, yet I was born without one, I’m an anomaly I SHOULD CEASE TO EXIST!” screeched Izuku as he seemed to be having an existential crisis that was accompanied by what he thought were diagrams from his notebook, which to everyone besides him looked like a bunch of gibberish and nonsense.

“WHY DO I EXIST?” screamed the boy in agony as once again he began to wheel himself at an impossible speed out of the room.

The Todoroki women were left stunned, looking at one another and then back at the spot previously occupied by the insane teenager.

“What did you give him?” asked the mother.

“The Quil”

“What Quil?”

“All the Quil.”

“Go and get Dr. Iyashi. I’ll stay here in case Izuku comes back” she said while rubbing her temples out of frustration.

………………………………………………………………………………

“Oh, fuck, what happened after that?” asked Izuku, no longer in disbelief, but amusement. While he had no recollection of any of this happening he felt like he was listening to a rundown of an episode from ‘it’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia’.

He seemed to be the only one enjoying himself though. The adults in the room on the other hand were very much tired of his shit after having to deal with Quil induced Izuku the whole day.

“You wheeled yourself around the ward while screaming ‘I challenged God to a knife fight’. What actually happened was you stole a scalpel from a surgeon, don’t know how, and started stabbing one of the All Might sketches in your notebook” relayed Mrs. Todoroki in the most flat and no-bullshit tone she could manage.

“Haha, yeah that sounds like me!”

“Now then…” announced Shin as he stood up addressing everyone at once“...it’s been a long day for everyone. Mrs. Todoroki please go back to your room for today. Ms. Fuyumi, thank you for everything. I will see you again. Izuku, you little shit, we’re going to have a talk.”

As the two women got up and left the room, Izuku was left alone with his psychiatrist. While he knew that Shin was only concerned about his well being he didn’t look forward to being nagged by the doctor again.

Instead of talking, Shin just ripped of a piece of paper from his clipboard and handed it to Izuku without any explanation.

“Any what is this?” asked Izuku, eyeing the piece of paper suspiciously.

“ A prescription for Ramelteon” says Shin “It’s most commonly used as antidepressant, but it also works as a sleeping drug. It’s also one of very few that does not lead to a dependence. Take this to the dispensary now, they will sort everything out and you will be getting your dose from tomorrow evening onwards.”

“I know I was very reluctant to give you anything besides antidepressants…” he continues “...but I’d rather do this than have you going batshit crazy with whatever alternatives you’re willing to try. Please be careful in the future Izuku, I mean it” he finishes with a warning tone.

“Can’t promise anything” said Izuku, his voice full of mischief.

“In that case I can’t promise that I won’t smack you on the head next time you pull of shit like this” replied the doctor, as he walked out of his patient’s room, hiding his smile behind the clipboard.

[mylordmyfriend]

Dealing With Difficulties ‘Burn Out‘

Burnout seems to be a common term thrown around church services, almost exclusively. We use it to describe a person who can no longer go on, they have been burning their candle at both ends till their was no wick left.

And often these people backslide.

We've almost built a doctrine around how to help people to stop from burning out, or the warning signs of someone about to burn out (their relationship with God suffers, they become complacent and uncaring, often times they are discouraged and lethargic), yet people still burnout.

But why? What causes it? How can it be overcome?

I suffered from burnout, and I almost spiraled into a pity party and depression. I was in a state of severe melancholy, and I just didn't care. Looking back on that time I questioned God. Why was I feeling the way I was? Was I being punished? As far as I knew I was very dutiful, I diligently served him in as many areas as I could. I was a youth leader, I vacuumed before and after services, I took responsibility of organising communion, I made and edited video's, I painted, I went to every service, I went to bible college, yet I was burnt out. It had me confused.

And for a long time, my walk with God suffered. It just didn't make sense.

Deciding that I no longer wanted to wallow in this self pity, I cut back on all of my duty's at church and decided that I needed to get back into the Word of God, and into prayer. The two things I really didn't feel like doing. The enemy was trying to keep me away from the power of God and the solution to my problem.

So I stopped doing my works and started getting fed. As I did this I slowly started to come out of this malaise and my enthusiasm and zest, and my heart for God suddenly sprang back to life, And I felt I was ready to serve again, and help other young leaders and servants in the church overcome their burnout.

And it was in helping others that I started to piece the whole puzzle together. Upon talking to others who were burning out I started to notice a pattern. They were doing LOTS around the church, and exhausted, would come to the end of their tether and burn out. They had done everything they possibly could to serve God, but they were doing it under their own strength.

As had I.

Which reminded me of the story of Mary and Martha. Mary sat at Jesus' feet, while Martha busied herself with much serving. In the end Martha got quite upset with Mary and rebuked her. Only to have Jesus tell her that she is worried about many things, but Mary only with one. And that one thing was a good thing. Being near the Lord. (Luke 10:38 -42) [My Paraphrasing]

We only suffer burnout when we try to do things to please God. Whether we know it or not, we have fallen into thinking that we can please God, and fellow man with the amount that we are doing. But our works don't please God. The word makes this quite clear, but this doesn't mean all our efforts are futile.

We just need to come to the realisation that God couldn't love us any more or less than he already does. He's already pleased with you. He doesn't need you to do tasks for His approval. He wants you to serve Him out of that love you have for Him. He wants you to surrender your life completely over to Him, and serve him in His strength. That is the only way we can ever truly avoid burnout.

Matthew 11:29

Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Psalm 1:1-6 Blessed

is

the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful;But his delight

is

in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night. He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither; and whatever he does shall prosper. The ungodly

are

not so, but

are

like the chaff which the wind drives away. Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. For the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall perish. Matthew 11:28 Come to Me, all

you

who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. So if you are struggling with burnout. Just relax and take comfort. God loves you, nothing will change that! Stop trying to do more, and start trying to Be More. Be More in love with God, Be More involved in His word, Be More happy to spend time in his presence. And Be more like Him! His yoke is light, His burden easy, and it's made to fit us all. So stop Martha, and sit with Mary and do what the father gives you to do! The way he shows you to do it! And you will never again experience burnout again! - The Kid

[boo-radley14]

If I live to 50 without her, it will be too long.

I met this girl when I was 22. I knew she was gay because I knew of her through friends. But when we first met, I was thrown off by the way she acted around men. It immediately turned me off to her because my relationship to men is very different, and I didn’t understand it at the time. It wasn’t until days later that I realized she was different, and that I had misjudged her. So I decided to work a lacrosse camp with her, in a different state, just me and her and 30 young athletes to take care of. During the day I spent my time admiring her eloquence, her passion for the game and the kids, and all the quirks that made her who she is. I tried to keep those things to myself, hoping that no one noticed I was so much more focused on her than anything else in front of me. But at night, we spent hours up talking, even though we had to wake up everyday at 6am for camp. And when I say this I mean it with every fiber of my being, I have never enjoyed hearing about someone’s past more than I did hers. Every single story, no matter how important it was in her life, felt important to me. The hours and hours of conversation that we shared was by far the most genuine thing I have ever been a part of. In one week of knowing her, I had fallen completely head over heels. I know that seems fast, but I don’t think there has ever been a connection in the world that was stronger than what we built in that weeks time. I will never forget the nights we spent on the water, talking about how much we loved crescent moons and what we wanted for our futures. And on the third night of camp, in our little dorm room... I asked if I could kiss her. she said yes, but we were both shaking. It wasn’t the kind of nervous feeling that you get when you think somethings going to go wrong or something unexpected might happen. It was because we knew what was about to happen, and I don’t think either of us had ever experienced anything like it. I couldn’t even try to explain the electricity that coursed through my body when our lips touched for the first time even if I tried. I don’t even think Shakespeare could capture the magic, it was just that perfect. No other lips would ever be able to compare to hers from that moment on.

When camp was over, we decided to go on a mini vacation together. We got a hotel room, walked around a crowded town on the beach, went to dinner, and spent the night intertwined. It meant so much more to me because neither of us expected sex. I was fine with staring at her, watching the way her mouth moved when it formed different words, noticing how her tongue touched the roof of her mouth more than the average person when she spoke. And when we did kiss, it felt just as amazing as it did the first time. That never changed. We also found a song that ended up becoming a staple in our relationship (after tonight). With the lyrics “free to fly” bringing something we both needed at this point in our separate lives, as well as together as one.

I had a year left of college, where I played division I lacrosse. She is 5 years older than me, and was a d1 lacrosse coach in a different state. We spent as much time as we could together, growing, learning, laughing— but when summer ended, our relationship was distance. There was about 400 miles between us now, but most days it didn’t even feel like there was a single one. The best part was we didn’t talk constantly. She had a hard and busy job, I had 3/4 workouts and practices a day on top of classes. But we didn’t need to. I felt her. the connection was always there. I thought about her constantly, and I’d let her know at various points throughout the day I was thinking of her, she would do the same. We had FaceTime dates some times, we’d fall asleep snoring into our phones after meaningful conversations about bugs or childhood trauma or the kind of underwear we liked most. No topic was off limits, and no topic was any less important than the other. Getting to know her was my first priority, no matter how small the details. I went to visit her two weeks into school. Even though our connection was always there, I missed her. So I hopped on a plane and went to see my girl, what better way to spend a weekend? It was this weekend that is forever engraved in my memory, I can still feel the feeling of when she told me she loved me for the first time. I decided to skip Monday classes and stay with her, and we were exhausted from staying up all night. We crawled in bed midday to take a nap, and she kept saying “baby?” I would respond with “yes?” but then she stayed silent. I didn’t push. I could feel what was coming, and I wanted her to say it when she felt it. After the tenth “baby?” she followed up with “look at me” and when I did she so sweetly said “I love you.” I can’t describe the butterflies, they were more than butterflies. It was my entire body lighting on fire one part at a time, starting from my chest and then flaring out all the way to my forehead, fingers and toes. I thought the feeling of our kiss was intense, but hearing those words made that feeling feel like a static shock, this was full blown electrocution. in the best way— of course.

We finished out my final year of undergrad, and she changed jobs— making her even farther away. But that didn’t matter. I picked up my life with nothing but love for her, found a beautiful little house in a cute suburban neighborhood, and moved in with her 700 miles from where I had always called home. I didn’t have a job or a clue when I would get one. But I didn’t even care. I had her, I had our little house, I had an education and I had freedom to do what I wanted. But really all that mattered was that I had her. I got a job selling furniture. It was different and nothing I ever expected to do. But I was making really good money, and like I said, I had her. She had a really demanding job. She worked 14-16 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was hard sometimes because we didn’t have much time to spend together. But when we did, we made scavenger hunts for each other, we made up games to get to know each other even more than we already did. We binged watched shows, we visited local animal shelters often, we watched collegiate lacrosse regularly, we tried new recipes, we cuddled, we talked.. it was nothing short of breathtaking no matter what we were doing. After 6 months of living together I knew this was what I wanted for the rest of my life. I knew that nothing would ever be able to top it. I bought a guitar, but I didn’t know how to play. So I took lessons. I learned how to play “Can’t help falling in love” within about 2 months. I brought my friends from work to help me pick out a ring. She wanted a decent sized diamond, white gold, and designs or patterns in the actual ring band. Size 7. I found the perfect one. My plan was to take her to Colorado with her best friends along for the trip, too. I’d asked her friend to hike to the top of a mountain before me with the guitar so she wouldn’t see it since I kept me learning to play a secret. Then I would ask her to take the hike with just me. And when we’d get to the top her friends would be there and I’d grab the guitar, surprise her with her favorite song, and then ask her to marry me.

She left me a few months before I got to do this. we woke up on a random Tuesday— like any other Tuesday it seemed. She was acting strange, I asked her what was wrong and she said, “I am too far gone.” Although the statement was vague, I didn’t have to ask. She is very calculated. She never speaks without purpose. I knew she meant she was leaving me. I knew it was over and there wasn’t a single thing in the world I could do to stop it from happening. I dropped to the ground and cried immediately, no hesitation. She tried to hug me but I wouldn’t let her. I melted into an absolute puddle of defeat, sadness and agony. The room felt like it was spinning and I couldn’t keep up. My tears made puddles on the tile floor and even though I know I was sobbing so loud, I couldn’t hear anything. Including her trying to calm me down. To me this came out of no where. I was getting ready to propose, to plan a wedding, this was my forever. This was it for me. It actually felt like pieces of me were falling off. Like every memory was a part of me and they were just being ripped away one by one, each more painful than the last. I don’t even know how long it took me to finally get up off the floor, but sometimes it still feels like I never did.

Before I met her I claimed I didn’t have a soul. I wasn’t in touch with a lot of parts of myself that she awakened. I went from not thinking I had a soul to feeling like it was on fire. I have never felt so alive in my life than I did when I was standing next to her. Now that she’s gone, I feel less alive than ever. I feel like I would be okay not being okay. She was it for me. And I know this because it’s been a year, and she is still all I think about. Getting to know other people makes me angry because they aren’t as deep as her. They don’t feel things the way I do and they aren’t as real as she is with the way they communicate. I have not made one single connection in a year that I have actually wanted to pursue. I haven’t touched anyone new. Her lips are still the last I’ve kissed, and I think it will be that way for a really long time. Maybe even forever. But it doesn’t bother me. it doesn’t bother me at all. I want to die, but not in the immediate “I’m going to kill myself” type of way. Because I could never, no matter how badly I wanted to. I have an amazing family and some truly solid friends that I would never put through that— even though I don’t owe my life to anyone. I just wouldn’t do it. but I drink a lot. I smoke a lot. I’ve started mixing pills with alcohol just to feel the feeling of being at the brink of death. I thought it would scare me, but it doesn’t. I am not overwhelmed with sadness. I don’t spend my days in bed crying and I rarely cry myself to sleep anymore. I still hang out with friends, go to school, and have a job. I am a ghost among humans, and I am okay with that. I have come to terms with the fact that I had my one true love and lost it, and loving anyone else doesn’t even interest me anymore. I have calmed the madness and the hysteria in my mind. It doesn’t wish for a new love to make me forget these feelings, it doesn’t even wish for her back most of the time. It doesn’t wish for anything. I am just living, breathing, and numb. I would never kill myself, but if you think I’m not trying to ensure an early death, you’re wrong. Like I said to start this off, I’m 25 now.

If I live to 50 without her, it will be too long.

[ziggydageek-blog]

Secrets & Silence & Sickness

“Good evening, Gilda Morrison. To what do I owe the pleasure?” His figure was magnificent, glowing independently of the fire that crackled in the fireplace behind me. He himself emitted a warmth, one that could not be properly described, only experienced. His hat brushed against the frame of the door and his beard swept the ground he stand on. “All due respect, sir, it was I who asked you…” something made me stop; the blood rushed to my face and a wave of embarrassment warmed me the way neither the blazing flames nor the impressiveness of Albus Dumbledore could. “Be that as it may, I see it as no less of a pleasure” he said warmly, a nod of approval giving way to a twinkle in his eye. Taking advantage of my newfound dumbness, he continued with, “all formalities aside, would you find it in you to invite me in? I’m afraid these old bones aren’t what they once were & respond less than well to the colder climates.” The smile never left his face, but it felt like I had been slapped. How could I be so rude?? “Uh, yeah.. yeah! Come on .. in.. I’m sorry..” I stuttered. “Apologies are useless among friends, dear Gilda,” his aura cast my dinky shack in a whole new light the minute he set foot in it. Suddenly, the drab comforter shone with strands I hadn’t seen before, new colors to be marveled at. The dampness left the air and the dingy table seemed to Polish itself before my own eyes. Clever as I was, I couldn’t help but shake the belief that Dumbledore was behind such events.. Scanning the entirety of my cottage, I noticed the dog has slipped out like a shadow at sunset; incredible, given his stature. “May I offer you a drink?” I asked somewhat lamely. Words did this man no justice. Even tho he was nothing but gentle with me, I couldn’t help but sense the powers that lay just beneath the surface; powers that scared away the most powerful of wizards, even my own- “You may offer. And I should accept. One Butterbeer, if you would.” His long fingers interlocked on my newly shiny wooden table. His half moon spectacles slid down his crooked nose, just to the point where he had to look over the in order to see you. Shame flooded my chest again. “Well, sir, see, I uh.. well I don’t have..” “But are you so sure?” The ever present grin eased the anxiety from taking hold. Pointing just over my shoulder, I turned where his spindly finger directed. On my counter, my moments before barren counter, lay a mug filled to the brim with a golden liquid. In spite of myself, a grin of my own cracked. “You Brits and your Butter beer,” chuckling, I brought he mug to the table. “And was is it you, uh, let me see here, what is it you go by? You ‘Yankees’, I presume? What is it that you ‘Yankees’ drink?” The grin put me at ease to the point that as I pulled up a chair opposite Dumbledore, a laugh escaped me. “Us Yankees, huh? Ha! Well, uh.. I’ve never been one to turn down a Firewhiskey, personally!” Inclining his head in the slightest nod of approval, wand drawn, he motioned in the air. From out of my cabinet came an entire liter of Firewhiskey; from the other cabinet came a mug. Married at the counter they then flew towards us, only to land as gently as a feather in front of me. “Well thank you,” I said more to the mug than him. Something kept me from making eye contact, tho it was nothing of his doing. “Silent spell work has never been one of my strong suits..” I finished, pulling from the mug. Ever kindly, he spoke, “but isn’t that the beauty of magic? Where one believes he, tho in this case, she, lacks, the other makes us for.. and vice versa.. That’s so important about what we do at this school. It isn’t about the individual but the whole. Now, forgive me for rushing what would have unfolded at its own pace, regardless of my ushering, but you didn’t call upon me this evening to cast rudimentary spells in silence, no?” Gulping, I shook my head. “No, no I didn’t think so either..” gently, he nodded his head towards me. “What troubles you, Gilda? And as charming as it may be, no need to refer to me as sir; Albus would work just fine.” Finished, hands placed atop the other, he watched me. Feeling a bravery that I attributes directly to the firewhsikey, I swallowed the lump in my throat and began: “Well, sir… uh, Albus, that is.. well uh.. naturally I’ve heard of your uh.. greatness..” glancing up from the sheer awkwardness of what I had just said, I checked to see that he hadn’t been embarrassed him as well. Always the model of hopsitability and ease, he sat patiently across from me. The look of eager atincipation painted his face, as tho he couldn’t wait to hear whatever it is I was trying to tell him. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve only heard of you, but your presence is … I’m getting away from my point. So, I’m not so sure how to put this..” “Sometimes,” he began gently, “the best way to go about an explanation is to start at the beginning.” Iris was though he had found a pattern in the grain of the wood table entirely too fascinating to loom up at me as he spoke. I found this put me at ease, enough so that when I started speaking again, the tremble in my voice had been replaced with a note of determinitation I hadn’t myself possessed before. “Fair point. Well I guess this starts with me being born. Back in 1970. February 4th, not that the day is important but.. well, I guess it is.. anyway, it took until two years ago for my mother to tell me who my father is. Back in '69, there was a lot going on in the States, even within the witching community and my mother, Iris is her name, found her way out here; to Britain, that is.. and uh, well, while she was out here, she uh… got into a rougher crowd… I suppose…. Voldemort is my father!” The last sentence came out as more of a spastic here than an actual statement. Half expecting the entire table to spontaneously combust, I held me breathe and studied Dumbledore for even a hint of reaction. Whatever was in that pattern sure had him captivated; if my confession shocked him in anyway, he refused to let on. Minutes passed like hours, the only sound in the cabin my racing heartbeat. If I didn’t die from a heart attack.. “Of course, there were always rumors..” Dumbledore broke contact with the table and looked me directly in the eye. A fire blazed in his electric blues& tho terrifying, there was a safety behind them. “Surely, it was never out of love.. tell me, did your lot her also divulge to you the ahhh… purpose… of said conception?” “You mean the part where she told me I was suppose to be thrown into a potion or something?” “Precisely,” although he chuckled, the fire did nothing to diminish. The weight of the world left my shoulders. For the first time in my short life, I felt.. understood. “Naturally..” he whispered more to himself; I had never heard of anything more unnatural in my life, but I refused to interrupt his train of thought. “Tell me, Gilda, are you safe here? Rather, is their anybody else who knows the exact details of your origin?” Shaking my head, I told him, “only you and Iris know..” Nodding, he made to get up, “As it is, I’ve suspected for awhile exactly what you are telling me. Now, as you can see, the pertinent threat at the moment is the controlling of the dementors up at the castle. I need time to ruminate on what you have revealed, at a great expense to your own mental health, and you, surely, need a rest from carrying the weight of that secret. You know, keeping damaging information to one’s self is known to cause illness. Are you needing any protection charms around this cottage?” Shaking my head, I responded, “honestly, you have more important err.. situations to tend to. I’ve been handling my affairs since I was a kid. But thank you..” He nodded once more before getting up to leave. At the door way, he turned to face me: “I hold on confidence what you at great danger possibly to yourself have told me today; I do not hold such information lightly. We will be in contact.” As he left I swore I heard a muttered spell; remembering how perfectly he had casted the other charms silently tho I waved it off as paranoia. When the door closed behind him, I was again left alone in my thoughts. Had he left too suddenly? Was the news too much? Did he have a lot to consider? Was I, in fact, tainted? There was a rustle from the room behind me. Out of the silence, a croak of a voice cut threw the air. “Think you’re the only one with secrets, do ya?” Panicked, I froze. Rooted to the spot, my hands the only part of me capable of movement, I made for my wand. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you..” The voice croaked. For everything it was, there was no malice behind it. Only an exhaustion the likes of which I had never heard. Hand gripped on my wand, I turned as I pulled it out, prepared to cast the first spell that came to mind; in spite of myself, I froze when I witnessed the shell of a man made barely recognizable by time and depravity. I was staring into the once handsome face that stated at me everytime I made way to the Three Broomsticks. It was none other than Sirius Black.