#getting in trouble but it was worth it bc so much awoke in him
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foxmulderautism · 1 year ago
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spending my unemployment wisely (watching psycho 1960 thinking about how it would have absolutely reworked beaus brain chemistry)
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heartthrummed-a · 3 years ago
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i am once again full of muse for genshin verse things so here’s a quick rundown of the idol muses’ genshin verses. this is an incomplete list, as many are still in the works, but! it’s still a good handful! also under a cut bc it got long oops
tsumugi aoba: 19, dendro catalyst, inazuma. isn’t actively involved in the resistance, but isn’t super shy about his support for them either. simply trying to live life and right the wrongs of the past after assisting one eichi tenshouin in causing trouble for many unfortunate souls. still possesses his vision, though since he does not have a fake, he often leaves it hidden.
kohaku oukawa: 16, electro sword, inazuma. hails from a family of assassins that serve the main suou family, who in turn serve baal as prominent members of the bakufu. kohaku decided to make his escape from his family after his cousin and the sole heir to the suou family, tsukasa, did the same and left for mondstadt. however, kohaku remains in inazuma and still works as an assassin, though on his own rather than for the family. eventually met madara mikejima and formed double face, vigilante pair working in the udnerworld, with him. also an active member of the resistance against baal. still possesses his vision and wears it openly.
adonis otogari: 18, pyro sword, natlan. a wanderer traveling all across teyvat, for he found no love in the warrior lifestyle of his home in natlan. at present, he is staying in mondstadt, but he never stays in one place for more than a few days, wishing to explore everything each nation has to offer.
mika kagehira: 18, cryo catalyst, fontaine. a performer in fontaine’s traveling circus, known for their mismatched eyes, their skills lie in dance, acrobatics, and contortion, and they are known to employ their cryo skills in performance as well. nicknamed “the marionette”  for their peculiar aesthetics and their style of movement in their contortion acts.
kuro kiryu: 19, pyro claymore, inazuma. once a delinquent and a rebel leading a ragtag group of anti-baal delinquents long before the vision hunt decree began, kuro and his friends were caught and brought in by the bakufu, originally to be executed. however, keito, another friend of kuro’s, persuaded baal that kuro would be an asset to them in order to bargain for his life. in return for kuro’s power and skill serving the bakufu as one of their own, the lives of him and his friends would be spared. to this day he serves as a member of the bakufu, though he has secretly supported the resistance behind the scenes since the vision hunt decree began. still possesses his vision and is able to wear it openly as part of the bakufu.
shinobu sengoku: 17, electro bow, inazuma. also hailing from a family that has served baal for generations, shinobu has recently begun to be deployed on the field as a member of the bakufu. however, he has no love for the tyrant their archon has become, and secretly (but desperately) searches for an escape from the bakufu, hoping to support and fight for the resistance instead. still possesses his vision and is able to wear it openly as part of the bakufu.
ritsu sakuma: 19, cryo catalyst, mondstadt. originally from khaenri’ah, but while they weren’t cursed, they were put into a deep and long sleep when the gods attacked and destroyed the nation 500 years ago. they recently awoke from their slumber and set off on a search for their older sibling, rei, who they figure must have also survived. they ended up caught by a band of treasure hoarders who sought to kill the vampire, but one of their members betrayed the group to save them, and together they took off to mondstadt. after much convincing fron arashi, ritsu joined her in becoming a knight of favonius, still keeping up their search for their sibling all the while.
sora harukawa: 17, anemo catalyst, inazuma. an active member of the resistance who is often sent traveling across inazuma for its sake despite his young age. lives a ‘on the run’ kind of life, but thoroughly enjoys it and all he does for the resistance in hopes that he will get to see the vision hunt decree finally fall. still possesses his vision and wears it openly, but often hides tsumugi’s on his person as tsumugi entrusted him with it.
arashi narukami: 18, geo polearm, mondstadt. originally a treasure hoarder, she is the one who betrayed her group to protect and save ritsu from being executed when the rest of the group feared the vampiric creature. when the two escaped her former group, arashi brought up the idea of going to the city of mondstadt, and later the idea of joining the knights of favonius to begin anew. telling ritsu that it might help them find their sibling, the pair passed the trials together, and remain members of the knights to this day.
tatsumi kazehaya: 19, anemo sword, mondstadt. a priest in the church of favonius who was previously a fatui agent. he was a rather notorious one, recruited out of inazuma years ago, and he was known for being rather jaded and cruel in all that he did. however, it was his eventual work partner kaname that persuaded him to see that the fatui ultimately was no good and that there was more to life than dominion and control. so the two fled, and thought kaname suffered a terrible accident in the resulting fight, tatsumi was able to take them to the church of favonius where both were given refuge. he eventually became a priest there after devoting himself to the anemo archon, and remains such to this day.
mayoi ayase: 18, a fatui skirmisher, specifically a pyroslinger bracer. their family originally came from inazuma, but moved to mondstadt years ago as their parents sought to chase dreams of freedom and song and begrudgingly took their child, who they never treated well, along with them. mayoi was later one of the many children taken from mondstadt by the fatui, but unlike their comrades, mayoi survived all they went through. namely experimentation by dottore that turned them into the skirmisher they are now. to this day they serve him, though their fear of him is immense and they dream of escape back into the freedom their home stood for. alas, knowing they are barely human anymore, fear of not finding a place for them in this world (and a fear of retaliation in the event they’re caught) keep them rooted in place. also, unlike other skirmishers, mayoi does possess an electro delusion, even if as part of dottore’s recent experiment to see if skirmishers could handle additional elemental power.
kaname toujou: 18, hydro polearm, mondstadt. they were originally nothing more than a traveling bard under the name himeru, prominent and well-known in mondstadt and even, to a lesser extent, in neighboring nations. however, when finances grew tight, kaname ended up turning to the fatui for business aid, and in turn was forced to work for them in secret. they ended up partnered with tatsumi, a cruel and jaded man, but kaname eventually got through to him and made him see the fatui was hardly worth it. eventually the pair executed an escape plan, though kaname was severely injured in the process. while the rest of the world wrote them off as dead, tatsumi brought them with him to the church of favonius, where the pair was given refuge and kaname was eventually healed. kaname goes on to become a knight of favonius after their recovery, where they remain to this day.
tsukasa suou: 17, pyro sword, mondstadt. as mentioned, he came from a prominent noble family in inazuma known to support baal, with many of its members joining the bakufu. as the sole heir, it was expected that tsukasa would do the same. however, he grew furstrated with this way of life and the vision hunt decree, and thus fled inazuma as a whole. ending up in inazuma, he decided he would join the knights of favonius so he might protect people rather than oppress them as the bakufu would have expected him to do, and later successfully passed their trials to become a knight. after learning of his cousin kohaku’s move to do something similar and suspecting his involvement in the resistance brewing back home, tsukasa began landing financial support to him and the rest of the resistance as much as he could.
yoshiko tsushima: 16, cryo catalyst, inazuma. the daughter of a pair of traveling bards, yoshiko spent most of her childhood alone while her parents performed in other nations. however, when the vision hunt decree began, it was decided all three would flee to find refuge in mondstadt. unfortunately, they were caught by the bakufu, and a scuffle ensued that killed both of her parents when they tried to take back all three visions. yoshiko fled at her mother’s behest, but ended up not only losing part of her memories with her vision, but so traumatized that she assumed the identity of “yohane”, a fallen angel from another world cast from her home into teyvat as punishment for rising up against her god. yohane, seeing baal as just the same as the god she was defeated by, decided she would stay in teyvat to take her down as both a redemption for herself and a proving ground so that she might go home and try again on her god again someday. now she’s a prominent leader of the resistance, though she desperately hides from her peers the truth of her identity and circumstances. obviously, she no longer possesses her vision, but trains with a sword to remain a fighter.
umi sonoda: 17, hydro bow, inazuma. daughter of the noble sonoda family and the sole heir to the sonoda trade association (basically the inazuma equivalent of the feiyun commerce guild), umi grew discontent with her family’s support and aid in the vision hunt decree, as well as that state of inazuma overall. however, since she had not yet assumed the power over the trade association, umi had to seek other means to help the people. to do so, she began to set out at night in a mask and change of clothes, tracking the bakufu’s movements and preventing their acquisition of visions where possible. she also guided fleeing citizens to the crux after striking a deal with its captain, beidou, to take refugees across teyvat for their protection. all of this earned her the title of a “hero”, who was dubbed “aoi” simply for her blue color scheme. umi, however, vehemently denied the title of a hero and tried to prevent any attention begin drawn to her, but to no avail. she was eventually caught and captured, but was saved by members of the resistances before her vision could be taken and she herself executed. from then on, because her family officially disowned her when she was revealed as aoi, umi began to work as an active member of the resistance. still possesses her vision due to the interference of resistance members, but keeps it hidden on her person at all costs.
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genevievelafont-blog · 6 years ago
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[PHOEBE TONKIN?], no that’s [GENEVIEVE "GENNY" LAFONT] - the [TWENTY-SEVEN/ONE HUNDRED TWELVE] year old [PANSEXUAL, CIS FEMALE, RISEN WITCH] that uses [SHE/HER]. Apparently she is [AFFECTIONATE] && [CREATIVE] but some say she is [DETACHED] && [MORBID]. In the group they are known as [THE RETICENT]. They are one of the bound. They survived the massacre because [SHE WAS JUST SETTLING IN AND DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT THE MEETING].
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alright! kid number four! bc what even is self control these days???
genevieve simone lafont - genny, gen, eve, vivi. literally she’ll answer to almost any variation of her name, but if you’re not her siblings or her mother she’s not likely to answer to genevieve...mostly bc it’s only ever used when she’s done something to upset someone or get herself into trouble.
a bit odd, kind of a mess, but all in all she’s a pretty decent person? like she’s not out here to cause anyone any harm as long as they don’t hurt her or her loved ones.
as a kid she was always finding trouble, though she’d personally say it was the trouble that found her. while she was typically able to talk her way out of her problems herself, she definitely found herself thanking her lucky stars more than once that she had her brothers to fall back on.
from the time she was a little girl she had a strong creative streak, which played a large role in the trouble she found herself in. art supplies can be expensive, and it’s much easier to simply “borrow” some from others.
she did briefly mellow out in her early twenties, settling down and marrying a human man she was convinced she was in love with. 
four years later things changed. the short story, the one she’ll tell people, is simply that she died. the longer story is much more painful.
either way she returned to using her maiden name when she awoke. her husband so far as she knew, had died as well, and she couldn’t bring herself to keep any more ties to her pain than she had to.
over the years she’s made a name for herself, selling her pieces more-or-less anonymously and letting the outside world believe she’s a withered old woman. she only takes commissions from other supernatural individuals, and hasn’t actually sold a single work of art in the last decade.
while she’ll never admit it, she hates being a risen witch. she enjoyed her life up until the end, and the sudden shift into an entirely different way of “life” was something she was not at all a fan of. she is thankful that she’s still got her family, but the prospect of immortality had never appealed to her.
honestly she’s only in town because she was looking for her brother. she missed him, decided to pack a bag and pop in for a visit. now she’s stuck here at a hotel with a weeks worth of clothes and not even a sketch pad.
travelled for a bit but always returned home after a few months, so being somewhere new and not able to go home? she’s Not A Fan.
idk there’s probably more but i’m feeling rusty atm so hit me with any questions you’ve got!
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artificialqueens · 7 years ago
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Here I Go Again! (Group Fic) - Epilogue - pureCAMP
A/N - important notice!! there is some smutty smutty smut smut in this, but i didnt write it!! plz send ur love to citrus aka @pianowired bc she wrote it and its absolutely excellent. plz enjoy! (and let me know if a part 2 is needed! <3)
Raja had seen a lot of action, in her time, both for her friends and for herself. She remembered her first was skinny and scrawny as most fifteen year olds are, and he hadn’t impressed her.  He was too excited to actually be inside a girl, and barely lasted two minutes. Of course, she’d told her girls all about it, how it wasn’t really worth the hype, but still worth trying.
  Then was her second, around her sixteenth birthday, and if she remembered correctly, Jinkx had gotten laid that night too. Her ginger friend had admitted that she could barely look the nameless girl in the eye when she awoke, but had enjoyed it nevertheless. In the meantime, they teased Sharon about her chastity, despite it not being her choice. The poor girl was convinced her religious mother had eyes everywhere, and she wasn’t too far from the truth. Whenever the three got up to no good, there always seemed to be someone to report back to Sharon’s mother and get her into trouble.
  For the next two years, Raja lived her life as a hoe and was thoroughly enjoying it. Her experiences ranged from poor to… satisfactory, at best, and she detailed each one to her girls, occasionally expressing her sympathy for Sharon. It wasn’t from lack of interest or trying, bless her, but her mother’s insistence on wearing that damn cross around her neck every day tended to keep boys away. Which was, of course, what the religious old trout wanted it to do.
  Both herself and Jinkx applauded Sharon when she dropped out of high school, all three of them knowing she’d fail regardless, and started to rebel a little more. Their music group was the perfect opportunity to do that - to dress up fashionably, ditch all religious memorabilia and dance away from her mother’s prying eyes. The island a little way off the mainland was their solace, and a great place to pick up boys.
  Around the summer, things changed. Their performances began to bring in more customers to the little tavern, resulting in more ‘fans’ and more guys and girls for Raja and Jinkx to have fun with. One night, she remembered seeing a young guy in the crowd, around their age, watching the show. Normally, Raja would’ve jumped him as soon as the set was over, but his eyes were on Sharon, and Sharon’s eyes were on him, and if this was her friend’s chance to get laid before she turned eighteen, then she’d have to let it happen.
  It was so much more than that in the end. Sharon, now glowing with this new life, detailed all of her experiences to them with her eyes shining. She didn’t retell the stories like Raja did, mentioning the rough movements and emotional detachment from the whole thing. It seemed as though she loved him. Of course, she told them all about going rough and hard and fast, but it always seemed to end with cuddling, with kisses, with romantic walks on the beach as the sun set around them.
  So now all three of them were living the hoe life. It was fun, but it didn’t last.
  After Justin left, Sharon became solitary. She was never around in the daytime like she normally would be, to laugh with Raja and Jinkx and listen to stories and just have fun. Raja shared with Jinkx and Jinkx shared with Raja, and they only saw her when they were performing and a few times in between. She seemed distant.
  Looking back, Raja knew now that it was because her sly dog of a once religious virgin friend had in fact been sneaking off to have rebound flings with two other guys in order to cope with her heartbreak. Back then, they’d just assumed she wanted to be alone.
  So, to cut a long story short, the last of their group to lose her virginity, and the first of the group to ever be in love with someone she’d had sex with, had fallen pregnant. For a good year after the news was revealed to them - through a skin-tight costume that wouldn’t zip up and a tummy that seemed just a little too round to be puppy fat - the hoe life died down. Raja didn’t feel like she could just run off to find a guy and fuck him when her best friend was miserable, heartbroken, hormonal and alone. Call her selfish, but she also didn’t want to be caught in the same predicament.
  With one of her best friends then busy with a newborn, Raja got back out into the dating pool, so to speak. At twenty one, she met her first husband. He was okay-looking, really, tanned with black hair and piercing eyes. Her father paid for the wedding, and he paid for Raja’s surgeries to enhance her bust, and he didn’t fuck too badly, but his lips were larger and faker than her own, and it started to put her off a little. One and a half years later, she divorced him.
  “You paying him back for those?” Sharon had joked, tickling her then-five-year-old Trixie with one hand as she gestured at Raja’s chest with the other.
  “Oh, please.” Raja had responded. “He paid for these and they’re still not as big as yours.”
  Husband number two was a little better, but not much. He owned an international cruise line, so combining Raja’s family wealth with his was pretty luxurious. For a couple of years, she hardly saw her friends, communicating mostly through letters from wherever the cruise ship took them. It was a time of expensive face creams that contained flakes of gold, designer shoes, and world tours to places she’d never even dreamed of seeing.
  But he was boring. Rich, handsome, and oh-so-boring. His every word was a drag, he was a complete drip, and he had the personality of wet toilet paper. He had to go, and two years later he was gone.
  “Gold flakes…” Jinkx had mocked. “And what else? Donkey testicles? Mashed up goats liver? None of my girlfriends have ever cared if I look a little strange.”
  Raja had shrugged and laughed. “If I want to day drink all year round, it’s the price I have to pay.”
  “God, I haven’t day drank in forever. I haven’t night drank in forever. I’m busy being an adult whilst you guys go off and single-handedly date the entire planet.”
  Husband three had taken a while to propose, which was getting on Raja’s nerves, but other than that minor flaw he was perfect. Handsome, well-off, and just the right amount of emotionally involved. He wouldn’t cling, he wouldn’t ignore her, it was just as close to perfect as she could get. That was her happiest wedding day, even if her father had drawn the line and refused to pay for it.
  It really seemed like this one would stand the tests of time and Raja’s ever-changing nature.
  “So you’ve finally found the one?” Sharon had asked, flipping through Raja’s years of wedding photos. In each picture from each wedding, Raja had a different husband and Jinkx had a different lady-friend (she wasn’t very into commitment), but Sharon had the same plus one - her daughter. It was no secret that her days of dating and sex seemed to be over already. She never expressed the feeling, but Raja could tell that it hurt her a little.
  “I hope so. You think your man is waiting for you somewhere?” Raja had replied.
  Sharon laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, he’s out there.” She’d said bitterly. “With someone else, telling her she’s his soulmate.”
  It really did last. Eleven years they were married, and Raja was pretty content. But it seemed that all good things came to an end, whether she wanted them to or not.
  Truthfully, it was her fault. He was kind and sweet and he wanted to be a father. Raja, having intimately witnessed a pregnancy, the birth and watched the child grow up, didn’t want to be a mother. Of course it was magical for Sharon, and she’d never bash her friend for her decision - not after so fiercely defending her to people, even all these years later. Besides, she knew it would be different for her than it had been for Sharon, considering she was thirty six, twice the age that Sharon had been, but she was still put off. She’d never wanted children anyway, and the whole process freaked her out. For others, she was supportive. For herself, she was an inch away from disgusted.
  It was just one of those differences that tears people apart. Their arrangement was no longer working, not really.
  The divorce was a painful one. As she sobbed into Sharon’s chest, Jinkx awkwardly rubbing her back, it seemed to hit her at once that her friend was something of a superhero. Now that she was experiencing heartbreak, she finally understood what Sharon had been through and how hard it must’ve been to carry on. Yet the way she so expertly comforted her showed just how incredible of a mother she’d been, and how she’d relaxed into the role and learned exactly what to do.
  Last time Raja had checked, even though she swore she wasn’t going to, his new wife - blonde, pretty, the works - was six months pregnant. Fine, that was fine. He’d moved on. Raja moved on too.
  Her tricks were getting younger, truth be told. In recent years, the younger men had become even more open about their admiration for older ladies, and whilst Raja was in no way old, she appreciated the attention. With a little bit of Botox, she was pretty much the young man’s dream.
  Still, hooking up with one of Sharon’s hotel slaves, as she so affectionately had nicknamed them, felt a little strange. Karl had told her that he was twenty one, so at the very least he was older than Trixie.
  Admittedly, he was one of the better ones. He wasn’t disgustingly hairy, like some men who tried to approach her, but he also wasn’t pre-pubescent and hairless. Clean shaven, the way she liked it. He was fairly muscular, Filipino, and had a strange streak of blonde in his dark hair. Whether that was a fashion of the youth or not, she didn’t care. Raja still tugged on it in bed with him after the hen party had been infiltrated by the stag do.
  He was skilled enough that, the next morning when Raja crept away so that she didn’t have to sleep besides him any longer, she simply went to beach and lay out in the sun to relax. Her energy was somewhat spent and she needed the ache to subside before she got ready for the wedding.
  “Hey, babe.”
  Raja didn’t even bother opening her eyes. “Babe?”
  Karl lay down next to her, getting sand on the beach towel. “You heard me. I called you babe.”
  “Oh, lord.” Raja scoffed. “Babe indeed. I could be your mother, near enough. Speaking of, where is she? Does she know you’re out?”
  Karl rolled his eyes. “You can’t ignore the chemistry between us, Raj. I know you feel it. I know you felt it last night.”
  He smiled, blindingly white teeth flashing in her direction. Raja hadn’t seen teeth that white since she’d flown out to the clinic to pay for a whitening herself.
  “You’re so cute,” She teased, watching how he tried and failed to compose himself. “I know what you want, sweetcheeks. But you’re playing with fire, and your fingers are gonna get burnt.”
  Karl seemed unfazed. “What if I’d walk through fire for you? What if I’m fireproof?”
  Raja laughed, surprised at his persistence. “I like your style, kid. Just make sure you let your mother know that you’re out, honey.”
  In one smooth motion, Karl rolled over so he was positioned above Raja, kissing along the marked spots on her neck and collarbone. He might’ve been young, but he smelled like sea-salt and he tasted like honey and he sent waves of fire rolling through her body. In all honesty, he was the first to actually make Raja feel young again. Like any minute now she’d be caught, messing around in the sand with a guy she knew almost nothing about. It was thrilling, but she couldn’t exactly let him win.
  “Nice try,” Raja breathed, flipping him over. “Take it easy, slow down. That’s no way to go, now is it?”
  Pinned underneath her, Karl smiled wickedly. “I don’t suppose you wanna show me how it should be done, then?”
  Raja considered it. She could teach him a few new tricks, that would be fun. Combining the young man’s stamina with the older woman’s expertise would definitely, definitely be fun. But on the other hand, they had all the time in the world. It wasn’t like Raja had a stuffy old husband to go home to anymore - she didn’t have anyone waiting for her. Right now, the only person who wanted her attention was Karl, and he seemed happy to wait.
  Besides; she had a wedding to get ready for. She’d wasted enough precious time fooling around in the sand. If she was going to look suitable for this wedding, she needed to start getting ready early. Plus, Sharon would throw an absolute fit if she knew that Raja was distracting one of her hotel slaves.
  “Meet me after the wedding reception.” Raja told him, extending a long, tan leg close to his face. “Maybe then I’ll dance with you.”
  —
  Night had fallen by the time Trixie was changed, packed, and down at the docks ready to leave. Sharon had been rushing around in a flurry to ensure her daughter had everything she’d need, and then some. Call her over-protective and paranoid, but her little girl was leaving home for the first time, going out into the world to find adventures and experiences. It would be nerve-wracking for any mother.
  Around the four of them, a chilly sea breeze blew. The sky was inky, the sea like molten silver as the moonlight glittered off the surface. Everything was still and silent, besides the bobbing of the little boat that would be taking Trixie and Brian to the mainland. Stars twinkled high above.
  “You sure you’ve got everything?” Sharon worried, shivering on the deck. She rubbed her arms to try and warm them, and only moments later, Justin’s suit jacket had been placed over her shoulders.
  Trixie smiled, humouring her. “Yes, mom. I was sure the first time, long before you triple-checked it all.”
  Brian and Justin shared a laugh, their matching grins widening as Sharon playfully shoved them both.
  “Alright, alright. Sorry. It’s a mom thing, I guess. Worrying so much.”
  Shaking his head, Brian smiled. “Sharon, I’ll take good care of her, not that she needs it.”
  Justin chuckled. “I’m sure after being raised by you, she could take on anything.”
  “You’re probably right.” Sharon grinned. “Well. Don’t let me keep you waiting.”
  Her tone changed; quieter, a little more forlorn. It had been the most perfect day ever, and there was no denying that, but goodbyes were always difficult. Sharon’s last goodbye had been tinged with heartbreak, and this one just felt like letting go. She’d always known, really, that the tiny baby who was lulled to sleep by her heartbeat and the gentle rocking of the chair would one day have to leave home. She herself had done it, albeit under different circumstances. Even so, as a mom, she wanted to keep Trixie wrapped up in swaddling blankets forever.
  Trixie threw her arms around her in a hug, squeezing tight the way she always did. Sharon blinked back her tears when she pulled away, offering a weak smile and leaning forwards to hug Brian, too. Her heart skipped a few beats when she noticed Trixie hugging Justin, planting a kiss on his cheek and whispering her goodbyes.
  It was like they were a real family.
  “Go, go on already!” Sharon half-joked, pushing the two lovers towards their boat and trying to ignore how choked up she felt. “God, you kids… Driving me crazy, I tell you. Go on, go and see the world.”
  Justin kissed the top of Sharon’s head and began to help Trixie and Brian loading their bags onto the boat. Before long they were waving goodbye, growing smaller and smaller in the horizon. Sharon didn’t stop waving until they were a mere dot in the distance, not visible against the night sky nor with Sharon’s rapidly-blurring vision.
  “Hey, hey… It’s okay. I’m here.” Justin’s voice was gentle, calming. He pulled Sharon against his chest, sparing her the embarrassment of crying in front of him, and soothingly rubbed her back.
  “My daughter just left home.” Sharon sniffed, muffled against his shirt. “I feel like the definition of not okay.”
  He leant down and kissed the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “I know. But she said she’ll write, and she’s so excited for this. She’s like how we used to be.”
  Justin began to walk away from the docks, one hand in Sharon’s, heading towards the taverna. “Remember? Life was so exciting. The world was this brand new place and we’d get to discover it all.”
  Sharon snorted in spite of herself. “Of course I do. But don’t you think we’re a little old for that now?”
  “Old? You make us sound like pensioners.” Justin laughed. “Babe, we’re both thirty eight. Not even forty yet. That’s not old. Some people call it the prime years.”
  He nudged his wife suggestively, to which she burst out laughing. “Uh huh, sure. You really think we’re better now than we were twenty years ago? I’m saggier, fatter, wrinklier… the list goes on.”
  “You’re so stupid. I don’t see any of that.” Justin defended her, squeezing her hand. “You’re curvy, you’re beautiful… you still have those slutty lips that I love.”
  Sharon gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, acting scandalized. “Slutty lips?! And you call yourself a gentleman?!”
  Justin shrugged. “So you’re saying that when we fuck, it won’t be as good as it used to be? You’re not slutty anymore?”
  “No! I’m not saying that!”
  “You sure?”
  “Yes!”
  “I don’t know, it sounds like that’s what you’re saying.”
  “It won’t be worse! It’ll be better!”
  “Prove it.”
  The challenging gleam in Justin’s eyes sent waves of heat rolling through Sharon’s body. Fuck, she’d missed him. The taunts, the teasing, the dirty talk and the mischievous behaviour. It was ridiculous that she could still feel like she was eighteen even now, just being in his presence. He hadn’t changed a bit, and he was making her run wild.
  “We’re not going to make it to my house, are we?” Sharon asked, half-joking, half-sultry and narrow-eyed.
  Justin’s face was a picture of bliss. “Mmm… I don’t think so. But hey, I see our cabin is still standing. Maybe we should re-acquaint ourselves.”
  Sharon shook her head, laughing. “You… you’re the reason I’m so bad. Cabin it is, before I fucking explode.”
*
The two of them all but ran to the cabin, Justin’s arms flying to Sharon’s waist as she kicked the door closed. As soon as they were alone he kissed her, and it was everything and nothing like she remembered. It was the same passion, the same fire, but his soft lips were accompanied by scratchy stubble and his arms were stronger and more defined than they’d been twenty years ago.
  “Bed,” Sharon demanded as she broke the kiss, pulling Justin across the cabin and into the small, doorless bedroom. The bed was decently sized, fitted with clean white sheets that told Justin that Sharon had been taking care of the cabin even after all this time. He kissed her again, laying her down on the bed and slotting a leg between her thighs as her tongue dipped into his mouth.
  “Told you I love these slutty lips,” he mumbled against her mouth, hands pushing her skirt up her hips. Sharon chuckled, unbuttoning Justin’s shirt and shoving it off his shoulders before trailing a hand down his chest. He was softer than he’d been before, no longer skinny and gangly, and he shivered under her touch after twenty years of deprivation.
  “You’ve certainly aged better than I have,” Sharon grinned as he tossed his hair in mock vanity.
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, babe, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”
  Sharon scoffed. “Sure.”
  “I mean it,” he insisted, moving the top of her dress down too so that the garment was bunched around her waist. “You’re gorgeous no matter how you look. Also, no bra? Really? It’s like you planned this.”
  Sharon laughed and shrugged, her giggle turning into a low moan as Justin rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ll be happy to know I decided against going commando while we sent our daughter and her boyfriend off to travel the world.”
  Justin smiled, snapping the elastic of her underwear against her hip and grinning wider when she yelped in surprise. “You’re so beautiful.”
  Sharon rolled her eyes, pulling him in for another kiss.
  “Can you cut the crap and fuck me already?” she mumbled against his lips, pulling his hands down to rest on her thighs and placing her own hands on his hips. He laughed as she cupped his growing erection through his trousers, squeezing lightly and making him groan.
  “So needy, always so needy,” he teased, shucking off his trousers while Sharon freed herself completely from her dress. She let out a low moan as his long, slender fingers teased her through the fabric of her panties, feeling her beginning to get wet from his touch. “Shh, patience, love. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Just like old times, eh?”
  “I’d say a bit different. I’m not the skinny little slip of a thing I used to be.”
  “Sharon Needles, can you stop putting yourself down for a moment and let me worship you the way you deserve? God, you’re still so stubborn.” Sharon nearly protested, but then Justin’s fingers were pushing her underwear aside and grazing over her folds, and she could only let out a soft moan. “That shut you up, huh?”
  “Shut up and fuck me,” Sharon demanded, pushing his hand away and her panties down with it. Justin shot her one of those stupidly adorable grins of his as he slid out of his own underwear and kissed at her jaw and neck again. “Jesus, babe, age made you slow.”
  “If you want to get fucked, you’ll stop complaining,” Justin growled softly, one hand squeezing lightly at the sides of her throat. Sharon felt another rush of heat pass through her body; she’d always been a sucker for Justin showing dominance, and it seemed as though nothing much had changed in the two decades they’d been apart. His hand moved to rest at the base of her throat, barely even touching her, and she raised an eyebrow.
  “You’ve still got it,” she said appreciatively. “Thought you might.”
  “Course I do,” Justin replied, sliding his hand down her body to spread her open and press a finger into her, making her whine. “You drive me crazy, Sharon.”
  “More, Justin,” she complained, arching up into his touch as he added a second finger and his thumb found her sensitive bud. “Christ, fuck me. I’ve waited long enough.”
  “We both have,” Justin agreed as he drew his fingers out of her and lined up with her entrance. “You sure you don’t wanna change positions?”
  “It’s not gonna do my back any favors,” she answered. “Told you I wasn’t the kid I used to be.”
  “Shush,” Justin bade her, running his thumb across her lower lip and gazing into her eyes with so much love she thought she might melt. She hadn’t seen him look at her like that in all their years apart, and if she was telling the truth, no one could ever fill the gap Justin had left in her life. But he was here now, his hands on her thighs, his lips on her lips, and oh, how Sharon had missed him. He was hot and hard against her, and when he pressed just past her entrance she sighed.
  “More, baby,” she encouraged, pulling him down by the shoulders to kiss the corner of his mouth.
  “You sure, love? It’s been a long time and I-”
  “I’m sure,” Sharon promised, all but a whisper against his skin. He pushed a little further, and Sharon’s back arched to take him deeper into her warmth, kissing him deep and hard. She didn’t stop until his hips were flush against hers and he was buried inside her completely, and he panted against her neck as they both adjusted to the sensations wracking their bodies.
  “You… oh, Sharon, you feel so good,” Justin groaned, gasping when she clenched around him with a smirk. When he rolled his hips, she whimpered loudly, kissing him desperately.
  “I’ve been desperate to have your cock inside me for the last twenty years,” she mumbled roughly, “Memories are never as good as the real thing. I’ve never- fuck– I’ve never been this full.”
  “No one else,” Justin promised as he withdrew a few inches before pushing back in, making Sharon gasp. “No one else can do it like you, babe. No one else can take it like you.”
  “Please, baby,” she begged as he began to increase the pace and depth of his thrusts, his grip on her hips so tight she was sure there would be bruises later. “Fuck, J-Justin…” Justin was perfection, he always had been; he filled her so completely and took her apart effortlessly, making her feel like she was coming apart at the seams and melting into the mattress. She didn’t know his history after he’d left the island– there would be time for that later –but there was no doubt that he’d only grown more skilled with age. It was like he could see right through her and into the place where she kept her deepest desires; every single thrust was perfect, his steady rhythm sending waves of pleasure through her body unlike anything she’d experienced since their last time together. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and he kissed her with all the passion and sweetness of a first love that had never really faded.
  Desire coursed through Sharon like a wildfire, igniting every nerve in her body and setting her alight with pleasure. She could tell Justin was nearing the edge from the way that his hips began to stutter slightly, but he was doing an astounding job of keeping his steady pace. Sharon pulled her legs to her chest, changing the angle and allowing him to move even deeper inside her, speeding up and fucking her harder and faster. The bed rocked against the wall of the cabin as Justin lost his controlled rhythm and gave into his body, letting Sharon pull him down for a kiss as his hips slammed against her soft thighs.
  Sharon came first, a hoarse shout of ecstasy leaving her lips as every single thrust of Justin’s hips allowed him to ram against the spot deep inside her that made her see stars. Her nails raked down his back as she threw her head back and sobbed with the sheer pleasure of it all, drawing a hiss from Justin and resulting in him planting sloppy kisses all over her mouth like a teenager with poor aim. He finished with a rough cry of “Sharon,” and a final snap of his hips, coming deep and hard inside her and all but collapsing on her chest. The two of them lay like that for several moments, completely spent and trying to catch their breath, and Sharon’s lips lingered against Justin’s cheek, her fingers running over the angry red marks she’d created on his skin.
  “I’m sorry about that,” she chuckled, “I guess you really do make me feel young again.” Justin let out a breathless laugh at that, carefully pulling out of her and moving to collapse on the bed beside her. She nestled herself into his arms, slotting her thigh between his legs.
  “Just like old times, mm?”
  “Just like the good old days,” Sharon agreed teasingly. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be able to do better than we used to. I’m impressed.”
  Justin smiled lazily, shifting slightly and kissing Sharon’s cheek. “Wanna know what pushed me over the edge?”
  “Sure,” she laughed, “But proceed with caution.”
  “I was thinking about how beautiful you looked under me, and then I just had the thought pop into my head that wow, that’s my wife. You’re my wife.”
  Sharon let out an airy laugh, snuggling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “Mhmm,” she hummed contentedly, “Never thought I’d see the day.”
  “…Sharon?”
  “Hm?”
  “I love you.”
  “I love you too, baby.”
  —
  Justin wasn’t an idiot.
  For his first move after the wedding, he’d told Sharon in no uncertain terms that she needed a break. After all, he’d witnessed how frantic she was for the few days that he’d been on the island. He could’ve sworn that she didn’t sleep, eat or relax at any point, just work work work. She needed a break, some time off.
  Of course, time had slightly altered his memories of just how stubborn she was. There was no way she was going to be leaving her hotel, not a chance in Heaven or Hell. She’d put her foot down and that was it, decision made.
  Only Justin wasn’t that much of a pushover, and so began their at-home honeymoon. The young men, guided by Raja and Jinkx, were in charge of the hotel for a while, whilst Sharon and Justin roamed around the island, enjoying their time together.
  It was nice to watch her relax, really. In the sunlight, with her hair cascading down her back rather than tied up, and her face smooth rather than pinched with stress, she could’ve passed for eighteen again. He’d forgotten just how captivating her eyes were, a deeper blue than any expanse of ocean they could see. He’d forgotten how funny her laugh was, the utter cackle that came out of her. He’d forgotten the beauty in her smile.
  Really, he could spend all day listing off the beautiful things that he started to remember during their at-home honeymoon, but Sharon wouldn’t give him the chance. She was as needy and desperate as the day they’d met, and he certainly wasn’t complaining.
  It wasn’t all sex, though. Sometimes they both needed a break, and they had twenty one years of talking to do.
  “Jinkx took this, about two hours after I gave birth. Look at her tiny little fist around my finger.” Sharon held up the photo so Justin could see. Heart squeezing, he wrapped his arms around his wife even tighter.
  “I can’t believe I never knew about all this.” He replied, refusing to take his eyes off his then-newborn daughter. “She looks so much like you.”
  Sharon chuckled. “She always did. I miss her so much.”
  That day, Sharon had taken Justin on her proper tour of her tiny home. He already knew what the rooms looked like, having stayed there since the wedding, but she took him around to the lumps and bumps and chips and cracks, naming each one as incidents that had happened when Trixie was little - all the parts of their lives that he’d missed. Now, he saw the house in a whole new light, full of life and memories and little remnants of the past.
  “This one is sweet.” Justin picked up another of the photos spread across Sharon’s - their - bed. “How old is she here?”
  The photo showed Trixie, cheesing at the camera from her perch on Sharon’s shoulders. Her blonde hair was in two plaits, with a pink cowboy hat on her head and a blue princess dress. Sharon was giggling up at her daughter, seemingly unaware that the photo was being taken, in a summer dress that matched Trixie’s.
  Sharon studied it, smiling faintly, then flipped it over. On the back, almost illegible writing read ‘Princess Trixabelle Parton (3) and Mama Sharon (21) go on an adventure to the marketplace to find some lunch (MS) and defeat some evil (PTP).’
  “Those were the days.” She murmured, biting her lip. “I used to wonder how different my life would be without having Trixie, but she made everything better. I’m sure drinking at twenty one is fun, but playing with Princess Trixabelle Parton was fun too. There’s no comparison.”
  Justin kissed her forehead. “God, you’re fucking magical, you know that?”
  Sharon’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, which she dabbed at in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent them from falling. In spite of herself, she giggled a little.
  “I can’t believe she’s all gr-grown up, I still worry about her so much. She better send me another letter soon.” She paused. “I really miss these days.”
  Unable to stand the sight of her tears, Justin pulled Sharon closer and closer until her face was buried in his chest yet again. Once he could feel her sobs gently deteriorating into laughter, he pulled her away and tucked the photo into his pocket.
  “I’ll tell you what. We should go on our own market adventure today. Let’s buy something weird and make a day of it. We could even take a boat to the mainland and see if Trixie’s sent anything for us. I asked the guy on the boat when he gave you the letter last week, and he said that he’s happy to pass on letters but we’ll have to collect any parcels for ourselves.”
  Sharon considered him. “You know what… that sounds nice! I’ll get dressed, hold on.”
  In a matter of moments, she’d removed her pyjama top with an extravagant flourish, causing Justin to burst into laughter.
  “I swear I’ve put weight on, this is your fault.” She balled the shirt up and threw it at Justin’s head, childishly blowing raspberries at him when he ducked and missed it. “Look at me!”
  She poked her stomach, puffing her cheeks out. Rolling his eyes, Justin threw her shirt back.
  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Put some clothes on, nympho.”
  Sharon laughed appreciatively. “Fair, fair. Do you think we could skip the market, though? Recently the smell of all the fish has been making me really nauseous, and I don’t wanna throw up on you in that shirt. You look good in that shirt.”
  It wasn’t long after their day out that Justin started to suspect. Of course, he’d never blindly say a thing out loud, for fear of castration via kitchen knives, but he was definitely beginning to notice a few telling changes, even if Sharon wasn’t. The nausea, for example. The breath-taking way she’d started to fill her clothes.
  In fact, he tried to mention it to her once. She was having none of it.
  “Nope. Where did you get that from?”
  “I just thought maybe-”
  “You’re crazy, Justin. I love you, but you’re crazy.”
  “I mean, we have been-”
  “It’s just not realistic, babe!”
  “It’s possible, I guess I just-”
  “Possible? At my age?”
  “You’re not old! In fact, you’re perfectly-”
  “You’re off your head, babe. I think the sea salt is getting to your brain.”
  “But don’t you think-”
  “Nah, it can’t be. Justin, I’m not pregnant.”
  So they dropped the subject. She wasn’t, because Justin was clearly crazy and seeing things that weren’t there. She continued to deny it even when he hadn’t brought it up, which made him laugh. Justin knew Sharon wasn’t exactly… bright. Eventually she’d catch on.
  ‘Eventually’ turned out to be a week from their debate. Justin was sprawled across the bed, half-asleep in sweatpants and a face-mask that she’d insisted they both try. He was forced awake as the bathroom door slammed open, revealing a distressed Sharon with a mouthful of toothpaste foam, a toothbrush in one hand and a pregnancy test in the other.
  “‘Ow did thi’ ‘appen?” She managed to say, leaning into the sink to spit and then returning. “How?!”
  Justin shrugged. “I guess someone decided that the best way to clean your teeth is with a little brush on the end of a stick, so you can really get in there and scrub.”
  Sharon dropped the toothbrush. “Not that, doofus. This!”
  “Did… Did you forget that we’ve been having like… a lot of sex?” Justin tried.
  She shook her head. “Well, of course not.”
  “And the fact that we ran out of condoms within a week?”
  “No.”
  “And that when I told you, you said it didn’t matter and we didn’t need any more?”
  “No.”
  “Well… that’ll be why.”
  Justin watched Sharon’s face, trying to gauge her feelings. She was almost impossible to read sometimes, what with years of hiding her feelings under her belt. He decided to tread carefully, pushing down the rising excitement that he felt inside him.
  “But… we’re old!” She protested. “I really didn’t think this could happen, if I’m honest.”
  Smiling gently, Justin beckoned her to come and lay on the bed with him. The sun was just starting to set, and as she nestled into his arms, golden sunlight filtered through the window and made patterns on the wall. Sharon kept staring at the test in her hand, encompassed by Justin’s warmth.
  “How do you feel about this?” He whispered.
  Sharon swallowed. “It’s… unexpected. How… how do you feel?”
  “I feel amazing.” He admitted quietly, his heart softening as Sharon smiled. “I can be here for you this time, every step of the way.”
  He placed his hand on top of Sharon’s, both of them on her stomach. For a few, peaceful moments, they lay there in silence.
  Sharon was first to break it. “God, I can’t believe those bitches were right. It’s like Raja and Jinkx can predict the fucking future.”
  Justin laughed. “Well. As I’m sure you’ll remember, I’m in if you’re in.”
  The nostalgia registered on Sharon’s face instantly. The first time they’d met - all those years ago - the two of them said it a lot. When faced with a freezing cold plunge pool and no clothes, Justin simply shrugged “I’m in if you’re in.” When coming up with a plan to cause some minor havoc, the two of them in pain from laughing so hard, Sharon managed “I’m in if you’re in!”
  It had been years since either of them had said or even heard those words.
  “I’m in.”
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old-castlegachi · 7 years ago
Text
Untitled JaySteph Fic:
I wanted to get this out, mostly for @shauds02 so, see this as an “exclusive” first half of Chapter 1 bc it is fighting me. When it’s done, it’ll be on A03, like all ‘dem others. Either way, I hope you like it!
There is a lot Stephanie Here-To-Kick-Your-Ass Brown can handle.
An infinite anything from mortal wounds to a divine abundance of waffles no mortal could finish. Her point is that if there is an immortal feat no regular mortal can overcome, she had it down, done and deal, signed on that dotted line and took it home with her to do a victory dance and hug it to her chest. It is done, she has it handled and she never quit.
It is one of her faults and she embraced it.
This is all relevant information for what will be explained at her current predicament. It began after an exhaustive patrol where all she wanted was her two poufy duvets, blistering water pressure and the solvent for her flesh wound, it was already two nights old and begun to scab, they really did grow up too fast. Her entire form ached and it felt wonderful, a deed well done in physical personification and with light daring to fall in Gotham, she felt content and calmed.
It was her fault for taking her sweet time back home, humming a little the latest hot beat underneath her breath and already half-jogging her cool down stretches. It was all Red Hood's fault for being pathetic. He murdered people, all anti-hero, I-know-better-than-you-Bruce, when a lot of people knew better than Bruce – for being The Detective, he is an absolute face-plant when it comes to emotions, and people, and on sparing occasions, not-being-an-asshole – but as it stood? Red Hood was pathetic for face-diving into two trash cans and promptly slouching there on the concrete.
It was a very Tim maneuver and she expected Hood to do something else, shift and grunt, or move like human's do, prove his superiority here come on, but no. He stayed face-planted into a puddle on the cold, hard ground – oh, trouble – like a plank that'd fallen down or blanket that'd spilled, and okay, she didn't like it. She didn't like how much he not-moved.
And with curiosity, Good-Samaritan help a buddy out curiosity Stephanie flipped beside the prone form and nudged it with her boot. She cleared her throat, "Um. You should skedaddle before the daylight people come out –" Not even a grunt. Don't make her do this. Don't make her do this, " – I'll call Batman, I swear."
Nothing. Waffle-Iron-it.
It must be serious and "please, don't shoot me; don't shoot me –" was her mantra, wedging her steel-toed boots beneath his ribs and heaved him onto his back. It took a little wobble but thigh-workout's-galore, it worked and the red helmet stared, empty-faced upwards. Her mouth twisted and she shuffled closer, "Oi. You awake in there?" she tested.
In all the traps she's wandered into this is definitely the worse. And, while she's heard Red Hood is all about bad-taste, playing-dead seems to take it too far. So, only option is that beneath that helmet Jason Todd is passed-out like Timmy after a cup of decaf, unconscious for at least six hours and dead to the world or, the actually dead –
No. His chest moved. It's good.
This is bad.
Her three options are all worse than the former because no, she didn't want to call Batman to pick up his wayward son from his playdate with unconscious-makers and she didn't want to abandon him there for daylight pickings. Even if it was a good soul who dragged Red Hood to safety, it wouldn't be 'safety' with the gun-dependent there. Her third option is that Stephanie be the good soul and really, before she's thought about it, she lobbed the Red Hood over her back and shuffled to her apartment.
He weighed scientifically and at the very least, over two trucks worth. That is cement trucks with a prehistoric dinosaur playing rollerblades above. His helmet digs into her ear and his huge trunk-thick arms do not want to stay on her slim shoulders, despite how she bulked them up for exactly this purpose.
Once inside her apartment she breathed relief, straightened to her full height and dumped his self-entitled self on her lumpy couch. Her post-patrol routine, rids the cowl off her face, turns the heater on and stacks a plate of waffles in the microwave before she tuts at the figure prone on her couch. His neck will creak like that.
In care of her hidden attacks, she repositioned his head on the pillow and snapped off his utility belt, yanked off his boots, which stank by the way and dirtied her floor in dried mud and blood, loosened the straps of his Kevlar around his ribs and poked the underside of his helmet. If there was a switch it was unknown to her, besides he already looked better. Not waking-up to demand her lungs and livelihood better but breaths no-longer a death march better, deeper and softer than earlier.
She lightly rapped on his helmet, "You're going to be a little bitch when you wake-up. I can tell," Stephanie told him, following the microwave's ding and digging into her meal-of-kings, licking off syrup and chocolate chips she hummed, dumping dishes into the sink and swallowed down her post-patrol concoction of vitamins and muscle relaxants. Yay, for bat medical feats.
Her routine continued as it usually did a blistering post-patrol shower where she groaned enough for question's sake, blearily rubbed solvent into her wound and wrapped it up present-like, and burrowing into her two living-in-a-fuzzy-cloud duvets before she grunted, rolled out of bed and grabbed one to throw it over Hood because she wasn't evil, okay? And, she couldn't sleep knowing he'd be cold in her care. Stephanie Brown did not do comfort in halves, no sir and no madam.
This world hurt sometimes so for balance's sake constant comforts were required. It is just a truth of life.
Her old nemesis, the shrill alarm-clock, chimed after a pointed two and a half hours, and she sobbed a little and shut it off, groggily rolled out her bed and into the bathroom. Yay, for education. That morning her wrists ached so she clasped warmers on alongside her thickest hoodie, thermos-tights and jeans, shucked into thick socks before shambling into the kitchen for two bowls of cereal and a banana.
If she laid her head against the fridge, cursed the waking world and normative sleeping schedules for a minute that was her business, no one else's – after that, she took the milk out just like any other mortal. On her second brightly colored bowl of fiber love she blinked and found the strewn, lethally inclined utility belt in front of her face.
Other people read the back of cereal boxes or milk cartons, and she'd done that as well, but that morning she picked apart compartments and fiddled with bastardized bat-a-rangs. Her hands strayed to the handguns, heavier than they looked, ambidextrous hold – for the flinging-guns-about fancies – and speckled in blood. Oh yep, she has a murderer on her couch, shouldn't overlook that.
Her hands absently dissembled a handgun, only two bullets in the magazine, before she picked at the other with her foot working overtime to strike a tune, this with four bullets. It had been a productive night then.
Stephanie is in so much trouble and worst bit is, she doesn't even know by whom. Who will kick her ass for this? Herself or Batman? God, don't let it be Babs.
In her living room is a crash and a muffled swear that sounded oddly tiny, well, guess sleeping beauty is up. Did Hood sense his guns out, so figured his sunny disposition had to come out? Okay, yeah, that was bad. Early morning wit workout, it'll catch on. With all this at head, she took down another bowl and spoon and set it at the table before she flopped back into her seat.
So, she hadn't offered her leftover waffles or even the ceramic batman plate which made her snicker each time she wiped golden syrup off his judgmental frown, but it was still luxurious comfort; true to the Stephanie Brown path. And she had a suspicion that like most bats even a comfy kitchen chair will bite him in the ass.
Speak of ass and ass awoke. His scarlet helmet stared. "Morning Red Condom of Death –" That needed some work. Oh well. Stephanie shimmed a box at him, "Lucky Charms?" And, if he decided to grab his lethal-murder weapons and bolt, or even grab them and turn them on her, it'd be his choice. The former was expected for an emotionally-overwhelmed Bat. The latter was more likely but she reckoned she can talk him out of it.
Before her 8:30 class began though, is a question.
Except, Hood's estrangement from bats has done well, and he didn't act like a monkey-nut and sat down at her table. For all the world clueless to how he found himself there. It was pretty hilarious. "You invite every crime-lord for breakfast?" he asked, deeper than she expected with a mechanical slant to it.
"You're not really every crime-lord though, are you, Red Dead Redemption. Look," she said before a hissy-fit could start, "I have to leave for class in five minutes, so either you can leave or you can eat some cereal with me. I don't actually care but don't drama me and make me late." And with an angry crunch she swallowed another spoonful.
His voice lifted, "That's fair."
Then he took of his helmet – button at the back of it, perhaps – and it so was not fair. Stephanie chewed her mouthful, "Huh. You're not that awful-looking," she said. It lacked all tact for bodily welfare but Jason smirked, a tired little huff before he filled his bowl with cereal and chowed it down like popcorn. Stephanie looked at her innocent carton of milk, "I have milk, you know, if you want," she offered.
He shrugged, "Intolerant." Huh. Huh – Huh. Huh. Huh. Each day she lived to learn something new. Like, how his voice was deeper, more filled than she expected. That was definitely new. He cleared his throat, "Thanks." Her thumbs made an appearance of 'it's cool' because she's cool like that.
Less new was how humongous his shoulders are, practically expanding gravity in a five-inch radius if how he slouched wasn't a choice. Like, a smaller man had been pressed into his body to fit. That was a horrifying thought. His darkly tanned skin is thin, scratched by stubble and ripped scrap over a cheek which made him wince every so often, and his black hair is oil-shocked.
His teals are the absolute worst, though.
This is more a mess-of-a-man than Tim. And, he had worked so hard for that right, all for naught. That is a shame, an enflaming burning-hot-fire shame, and whatever will – Jason plodded onto his dirtied hand, stubbled cheek smooshed, "You're going to be late, Blondie," and absently ate another mouthful.
Waffle-Iron-It!
In the race against the clock she grabbed the banana, her pre-prepared lunchbox, a thick coat and was at the door before the call of –"You know you're not wearing shoes, right?" He slouchy leaned in the kitchen arch and she dropped it all, shucked into her shoes and packed it all into her backpack.
"I owe you one –" grabbed her keys and tossed-out, "Close the window on your way out!"
Then Stephanie had sprinted to the station, clambered into the bus seat when it finally – finally, bless the warrior amazons – arrived, re-read the article she needed for her second class, rushed off the bus and into the college, trekked towards her lesson and scampered into the back to fold into a seat just as the Professor began; and the crowd went wild!
Victory! Ah, she is so amazing!
Her hands are elbow-deep in a cow's kidneys and it finally fell into reality. Yes, she had lobbied a murderer into her home, tucked him into bed, bestowed him multi-colored fantastic cereal and left him alone in her home. Her instinct to hiss into her hands is foregone by bloodied guts but still Babs will definitely throw her to the Big Man for this. Then the lecture will growlingly emphasize, 'You are reckless, Stephanie. You aren't qualified to be a solo operative, Stephanie. You could've been killed, Stephanie.' Yeah, yeah Brucie-Bear been there, done that.
A shoulder nudged into hers, "You're muttering to yourself again, Steph." That 'worried' undertone that Stephanie would kidnap a spleen, cause a riot and dab-nab into the night prevalent. Except, this is Gotham, everyone had coping mechanisms Ms. I-Chew-My-Hair-Till-It-Doesn't-Need-A-Wash-Any-More Mace.
Her deep breath mostly smelt of blood and slightly of mildew, the luxurious lifestyle stench of Wayne Manor's water pressure cried out to her, again, and Stephanie huffed: "Thanks, Mace. Keeping me sane in here. Hey, did you understand the D of the pathology assignment? It is literally kicking my cute tosh…" No, she hadn't.
Dagnab-it.
In the wise words of a talking chicken, the sky is falling by the time Stephanie arrived home, unlocked the door with a hand, cellphone barely balanced in her shoulder. "You're kidding me," she had said, and on the other side Derek laughed that it is true, the Rock will be skintight in a superhero blockbuster but this isn't the deal.
It had totally bungee-jumped out her closed window that Gun-Fetish had been in her home, great situational remembrance there but to be honest, despite all the title Red Hood depicted he wasn't extremely murderous, was he? Hood had said thanks over cereal. Hood had looked tired and somehow small, forced to fit into himself. And, it is her belief that murderous people didn't do that.
Even if murder-y people are usually also the poor, unfortunate souls. It mattered that Hood hadn't felt murder-y, no slinging entrails to the beat no sir, and instead, he felt like a weighted man, a shadow of a person, not completely shattered but definitely not whole. Like bat-papa, like bat-son.
Speaking of bat-traits Hood had definitely snooped, except she spoke bat-speak and that practically meant affection, and he'd washed her dishes as in legitimately scrubbed old takeout from two-dollar bowls and he tidied her perfect lumpy couch and folded the heaven-in-a-cotton-home duvet into an Alfred worthy square. Her hand rubbed a bruise on her jaw and this is so totally not the actions of a crazy axe-murderer incarnate Red Hood.
In the kitchen arch and steaming hot chocolate in her hands, it felt like hope, an idea lodged in her skull and yep, Hood had bought this on himself. He should have taken into account her unwillingness to quit at alleged dead-ends before he over-exhausted himself into two trash cans; and Stephanie sipped her hot chocolate.
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