#had a rough meeting with my social worker today so that's probably why i feel extra bad

[daz4i]

i took a shower i ate i'm trying to distract myself. so why am i still so sad that i can't think

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[lovely-ateez]

Just What The Doctor Ordered~

ꕥPosted: 3/14/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Wooyoung

ꕥWord Count: ~2.0k

ꕥWarnings: Language, Protected sex (Reader’s on the pill), Public sex (sort of), Praising, Wooyoung has a thing for being called doctor, Dirty talk

ꕥA/N: Please respect your healthcare workers—Doctor Wooyoung hella hot tho 🥵🤚

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to will my migraine away.

“You know you should probably go see a doctor.” My best friend and coworker, Hongjoong, spoke as he stirred his morning coffee.

“It’s fine. I get them all the time.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem. You shouldn’t.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “Honestly, I’ve trying to avoid going to the doctor but I think you have a point. I can barely focus on anything anymore.”

“Good. Schedule an appointment as soon as you get the chance. You don’t want to wait any longer.” He walked closer to me and ran a hand along my back, “And let me know how it goes, alright? I worry about you sometimes.”

I let out a small laugh, “Thanks, Joongie. I will.”

-

“Miss y/n.”

I raised my head to meet a young woman in light blue scrubs. She smiled at me, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I certainly understood, I’d had many long, long days at work myself.

I hope your day gets better, miss.

“Right this way, please.”

I stood, following her as she lead me into a room and instructed me to sit in one of the chairs.

“The doctor you normally see has been quite busy today, so we’ll have one of our newer doctors see you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” I pressed a hand to my forehead.

“So could you give me run down of what’s been going on?” She clicked a pen, grabbing a scrap of paper from her pocket.

“Sure, basically I’ve just been having really bad migraines.”

“How severe have they been?”

“I mean they’ve been bad enough that I’ve had trouble concentrating.”

“Anything else troubling you?”

“Nope that’s it.”

She scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper and smiled at me.

“Alright, the doctor will be with you soon.” Were her last words as she exited the room with a sigh.

Knowing it’d likely take awhile, I unlocked my phone to mindlessly scroll through social media, eventually getting bored and playing a game instead.

The door opened and I jumped in my seat, placing my phone aside. The young man that walked into the room smiled, running a hair through his parted black hair.

“Hello, I’m Wooyoung. It’s nice to meet you.”

As ridiculous as it sounded, my breath seemed to leave me all at once. His sunkissed skin was seemingly flawless, the closed-mouth smile that he flashed showing slight dimples on his cheeks, the lab coat and stethoscope around his neck left me to admire his appearance. He was certainly the most fit and attractive doctor, let alone man I’d ever seen.

“Oh you, too.”

He reached out to shake my hand and as we touched I felt sparks shoot through me. His hands were slightly rough but still soft. He released my hand with a kind smile.

“So do you mind telling me what’s going on?” He moved a stool that was in the corner of the room closer to me, sitting on it and slightly spreading his legs, his hands on his knees. I felt my head fogging as I fought myself to not stare at him.

“Well I’ve been having really bad migraines recently. I don’t really know what’s causing them.”

“How long have you been having them?”

“For a few months actually, but they’ve only become really bad within the last couple weeks.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Could they be stress induced, by any chance?”

“I mean...I don’t think so? My job is usually stressful but I haven’t been more stressed than normal.”

“Hmm okay. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms? Nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light?”

“No, no other symptoms.”

“Could you be pregnant? That can often-”

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a quite a while so that’s not it. I’ve been busy with work.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a slight smirk on his face, but it was gone before I could fully register it.

“I certainly understand that. I was able to get through medical school faster than most but I was studying all the time so I’ve never really had time for a girlfriend.”

I nodded, not exactly knowing what to say as I felt happiness bubble up in my stomach knowing that he was single.

“So how often do you normally get them?”

I cocked my head and raised a brow, “Get what?”

He let out a chuckle that released butterflies in my stomach, “I mean your migraines. How often do you get them?”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks turn pink, “Maybe four times a week.”

“Cute.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath. I was relatively confident he didn’t intend for me to hear it and I blushed even more.

“Well the nurse told me she forgot to take your vitals so...do you mind?”

“Not at all!” I internally slapped myself for sounding far too enthusiastic, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to care, giving a small smile.

“Could you take off your jacket for me, please?”

“Of course.” I said, ridding myself of the thick coat I was wearing, placing it on a nearby chair. He walked towards me—the smell of his cologne intoxicating—and put the eartips of the stethoscope in his ears.

Wooyoung placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to my back, “Breathe in and out normally for me, please.”

I did as I was told, blocking my mind from the devilishly handsome man right next to me.

After a moment he removed the tool from my back. “I’m going to place the stethoscope on your chest now, okay?”

Wooyoung eyed my sweater which had slightly thicker material in the front, “Is it alright if I put the stethoscope down your shirt? It’ll be hard to hear your heart through your sweater.”

“Oh—yeah that’s okay!” I cleared my throat, “I mean like yeah it’s fine.”

Way to be smooth.

Wooyoung chucked as he reached down the collar of my shirt with the tool, its cold making me shiver. He apologized for the temperature, assuring me it wouldn’t take but a minute.

“That’s odd,” He stated, an eyebrow raised, “Your heart shouldn’t be beating that fast. Do you know why that might be?”

His dark eyes looked into my own and I swallowed. “I...I just...”

“Yes?”

I looked at the floor, unable to say it while looking in his eyes, “It’s you.”

“Me? How’s that?” I saw from the corner of my eye a slight smirk growing on his face.

I looked into his dark eyes, “My heart is racing because you’re so close to me.”

“Tell me, then. Would it beat faster if I got even closer?”

Stethoscope still on my chest, he leaned down, his lips almost touching my own.

The man let out a deep laugh, much deeper than his speaking voice, “I was correct.”

I was barely able to speak when my eyes drifted to his lips, “It’ll beat even faster if you kiss me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It is.”

Wooyoung grabbed my cheek with his free hand and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine. He didn’t have to tell me that my heart was racing. I could feel it. I could feel my heart rate increasing the longer his lips touched mine. My hands wrapped around his neck, hands running through his thick hair and pulling it slightly. He bit my bottom lip in response and I whimpered into the kiss, pulling him even closer.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

I pulled his hair a bit harder and he groaned against my lips. As if he just remembered the stethoscope, he broke the kiss to pull it away from my chest, removing it from his ears and tossing it on the nearby table.

I giggled and he smiled at me, placing his hands on either side of the chair I was sitting in. Leaning in closer he teased my lips with his, giving me a slight peck before kissing down my jaw to my neck. I reached for his coat and hurriedly removed it from his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to get him undressed.

Gasping for air I grabbed at his hair once more, desperately needing to hear him groan again and he didn’t disappoint. His hands danced to my sweater, slightly lifting it.

“I hate to say it, because I’m really enjoying this, but you are on the clock.”

“Fuck it.” he growled, “I don’t have any patients scheduled today and I work harder than anyone here. I want this if you do.”

“I really do. Fuck me, Wooyoung.”

Without hesitation he pulled my sweater and bra over my head, leaving kisses all over my chest.

“Help me take off your pants, bunny.”

I whimpered, “Yes doctor.”

“Shit that’s hot.” He leaned in close to my ear, “Say it again. Doctor’s orders.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.” I pulled my pants down and threw them across the room.

Wooyoung’s hands teasingly ran up and down my thighs, making me shiver.

“You’re insanely gorgeous.” He growled into my ear.

I couldn’t come up with a solid response, my desire speaking for me, “It’s your turn, doctor. Off with the shirt.”

He made a dramatic flair of pulling his shirt slowly over his head, my eyes growing hazy while looking at his perfectly defined abs.

“Fuck.”

A cocky look formed on his face as he watched my eyes scan over him, soon after lifting me from the chair to the exam table.

He ran a digit along my clothed clit, prompting my back to arch off the table. I grabbed his arms and pulled him towards me, hips bucking into his, the friction setting my body on fire.

He groaned, head falling back as his body gave into his pleasure. Before long he was pulling down my soaked panties and leveling his face with my core.

“Don’t.” I said through heavy breaths, earning a concerned look from Wooyoung, “I want you in me now.”

His eyes widened, “Shit I don’t have a condom.”

I pulled him closer to me, “I’ve been on the pill for several months don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” The genuine concern in his eyes currently outweighing the lust I could see behind them.

“I promise.”

The lust returned to his eyes and I couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. The rest of his clothes were discarded in a hurry, his member then lining up with my core.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop, okay?”

His consideration made me smile, knowing full damn well I wouldn’t want him to stop. “I will. You too.”

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle and entered me slowly. I felt my eyes close as I focused on the feeling of him inside me, feeling out of breath already. I moaned as he pulled out slightly and rammed his hips back into mine.

“You like this?” He growled, “Knowing that anyone could catch us?”

I nodded, letting out quiet whimpers as I gasped for air. His speed was quick and hard, hitting every spot inside me my fingers could never reach.

“What a dirty girl you are.”

My walls clenched around him as tears welled in my eyes from the stimulation, my moans gradually getting louder without my control.

He leaned closer to me, “Quiet, sweetheart. Can’t let everyone here know what we’re up to, can we?”

I whimpered as he picked up speed and I forced my eyes open, needing nothing more than to see him. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed, and his hair was sporadically sticking to his forehead. He looked godly.

“You look so beautiful under me, taking me so well,” He said through half-lidded eyes, “How are you feeling, love?”

I whined at the pet name and clenched around him. He groaned and I brought myself to speak, “I feel f-full, doctor.”

Wooyoung nuzzed my neck, placing a few kisses upon my skin, and I felt my high approaching.

“Touch me, please.” I pleaded.

He complied, teasingly running his fingers along my clit and I felt sparks of pleasure shoot through me.

“Are you gonna cum, baby girl? Be my good girl and cum for me.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning loudly as I came, feeling Wooyoung release at the same time. He stilled, watching me catch my breath as he did the same.

“Pretty sure I just broke several medical moral codes but damn I don’t regret a minute of that.”

I hid my face in his chest, face heating up, “Me either.”

He pulled out of me and I pouted at the loss of feeling him.

“We just had sex and you’re still needy?”

“Listen, you just feel good inside of me.”

He leaned over me a gave me a long, sweet kiss, “You feel pretty good around me, yourself.”

Wooyoung pulled back and reached for his boxers, putting them on before grabbing some paper towels and cleaning me up. “Get dressed, doll.”

I nodded and slowly slipped my clothes on, legs feeling wobbly. He noticed and smiled at me, fully dressed now.

“Well,” He started, “I think we should exchange numbers in case you experience more migraines. We’ll have to monitor that, of course.” His eyes twinkled.

“Ah yes, of course.” I giggled, handing over my phone.

I watched his fingers glide over the keyboard, my eyes once more trailing down his chest, unable to forget how good he looked shirtless.

Without looking up he spoke, his voice lighthearted, “I can see you, you know.”

“No you can’t.” I teased.

He laughed and handed over his phone for me to do the same. “I can write you a prescription if you feel like that’s something you need. Have you tried over the counter medicine?”

I chuckled and he gave me a questioning look. “It’s just that the conversation took a different direction than I was expecting. But no, I haven’t.”

Wooyoung nodded, “I would recommend that you start with Ibuprofen and if that doesn’t work, let me know and we can prescribe you a stronger medicine, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

A silence fell over us. Noticing my nervousness, Wooyoung pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, “I need to go, but I’ll call you, okay?”

I gave a shy nod and bit my lip.

“Do you like coffee by any chance?” He questioned as he ran a hand through my hair. I welcomed his touch, leaning closer to him.

“Love it, why?”

“I say we meet up at a coffee shop soon. I’ve got a particular one in mind and I think you’ll really like it.”

I smiled, beyond happy to know he wanted to see me again, “Works for me.”

-

“So it went pretty well, I think.”

“Good, have you been feeling better?” Hongjoong asked later in the week.

“Much.” I bit my lip, looking down, “I’ve got a date later today.”

“What? With who?” Hongjoong asked with a smile, genuinely happy for me.

“Um...the doctor I saw earlier this week.” I scratched the back of my head.

“Oh my god you do not.”

“I do. I really like him.” I confessed, “We’ve been texting a lot.”

“Damn.” He shook his head, “That’s definitely a surprise but I’m happy for you girl. You know, why don’t you head out early? Our shifts are almost over anyways and I can finish up anything you’ve still got to do.”

“No I can’t ask you to do that!”

“I insist. Go ahead.” Hongjoong all but pushed me out of the office, sending me on my way and wishing me luck.

I waved back at him, thanking him again before leaving the building. I hopped in my car and drove off, feeling happiness bubble in my chest.

I took a step into the cute coffee shop, looking around at the full tables before locking eyes with Wooyoung. His eyes sparkled with the same playful look as I remembered. I walked over to where he was sitting and took the chair across from him.

“Hey,” He smiled wide.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you gonna order anything?”

“Maybe in a bit. I wanna spend time with the handsome man in front of me first.”

A slight red dusted his ears as he tried to laugh away his shyness. “How’ve your migraines been?”

“Honestly, I haven’t had any since I saw you last.”

He cocked his head. “Wonder what could’ve fixed that?”

I bit my lip, meeting his eyes, “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Incredible. This is a medical breakthrough. I can just imagine the medical articles.” Wooyoung raised a hand, moving it in the air as he spoke, “Sex cures chronic migraines, experiments suggest.”

I laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

“What? Am I wrong?” He said with a mischievous smile.

I quirked a brow, “I think we should probably conduct more experiments though, right? In the name of science.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “You make a compelling argument. I think I have to agree. My place after this?”

“Absolutely.”

-

Final Note: Listen I know Wooyoung probably should have actually prescribed y/n something for her migraines but it’s to further the plot okay please understand—

[anomia-sama]

Akutagawa x Reader | Dark Chocolate

Pairing: Ryuunosuke Akutagawa x Reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader (they/them), probably uncorrect english, curses, verbal aggression. 

Notes: Nobody asked for it, this Headcanon is just my way to wish you a happy St. Valentine’s Day, full of love, warmth and affection; even if you’re single, you deserve to celebrate love. Love for yourself, love for you significant others, love for your life! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Small reminder: In Japanese tradition, only women give chocolates to men, but I wanted to write a more inclusive Headcanon, so I used Gender Neutral pronouns. There’s a huge difference between Honmei Choco and Giri Choco. The so-called Honmei choco (known as the "true feeling chocolate") is given by women to men whom they have romantic feelings for, like husbands, boyfriends or desired partners. It is a qualitatively better chocolate, and it’s generally quite expensive, but sometimes it can be home-made. The so-called Giri choco (known as "obligation chocolate") is given by women to male co-workers or friends, as a customary gift. It’s cheaper and less refined, but it’s a very apreciated symbol of respect and friendship.

◈ ━━━━━━━━  Headcanon ━━━━━━��━ ◈

Akutagawa is totally clueless about St. Valentine’s day. Seriously, he knows nothing about it! He has no idea of the cultural meanings of February 14th and he doesn’t know much about traditional gifts linked to this celebration.

First of all, he never had time to devote to such a nonsensical feast. And then, he never cared about useless things like romance and love. They’re like profanities to him. 

So, when he sees you offer him an elegant and refined dark red box full of assorted chocolate, he’s a bit confused. Like…what the hell are you doing, exactly? His deep and grey eyes sharpen in a frown, his cheek muscles unconsciously contract, but even in his confusion he looks so cute and adorable at your eyes.

He quietly stares at the box for almost five minutes, exploring every single detail of it, careful not to touch it. It’s a big and rectangular pack, he notices, closed with a thin ribbon, and he doesn’t imagine what it could contain.

It takes a while before Ryuunosuke finds the courage to look at you in the eyes and ask for clarifications. 

“What is it?”

Poor boy. It’s not his fault, he’s just a bit (a lot, actually) ignorant about certain things. 

He notices your bizarre and inexplicable look, that makes his gaze sharpen more and more by the second. His irises linger on your red cheeks, he can see how desperately you try to avoid eye contact and that makes him a little suspicious. Your entire body is shaking, it’s really a weird behavior…

“It’s a…gift. A Valentine’s gift, actually.” You try to explain, with trembling voice.

“A… what?”

Your heart beats so fast, in this moment. You don’t understand if the young man appreciates it or not, he just stands there, right in front of you, with a stern look and crossed arms. An unconquerable stronghold that turns your heart in dust every single time you’re in the same room. 

You don’t even know when you started being so attracted to him, nor when attraction became love. You really thought offer him Honmei Choco was the most natural way to express your feelings and confess to him. But…

“Chocolate, Akutagawa-san. Just chocolate.” You murmur, now embarrassed and quite in panic. You really don’t understand if he’s rejecting you or not.

Being in love with him is a daily challenge. Akutagawa is unpredictable, fierce, a broken soul… and, well, he totally lacks in social skills. You know it, you always knew it, but that doesn’t cushion the blow when it arrives.

“Are you trying to poison me or what?”

Oh god. Is he allergic or something? Does he hate chocolate? What did you do wrong?

Your eyes widen and you finally meet his gaze. He seems angry.

The truth is Akutagawa is not used to kindness. He doesn’t know what it means to receive a gift and something like pure and selfless love, so he just thinks the worst option is the most credible.

“N-No, Akutagawa-san, I could never…” 

“So is this because you failed your last mission? You really think you could corrupt me?”

His voice raises in a rough expression of anger, he makes you feel so small and defenseless. Ryuunosuke totally misunderstands your intentions, but you know you don’t deserve such a treatment, even if you love him and even if he’s your superior.

You put the box on his desk, firmly (because you’re upset, and you got the right to) but gently not to ruin it.

 “I don’t want to disrespect you, Akutagawa-san, you know, or at least you should know, how much I admire you. Think what you want about this gift, I let it here. Now excuse me, I have work to do.”

You get out of his office with fast pace, your eyes shining with tears you proudly don’t cry. 

At the door, you almost bump into Chuuya; the redhead was right there with a raised fist, ready to knock, but you barely notice him. You have rush to walk away.

“...The fuck happened?” He whsipers, following your silhouette with his eyes before enter Akutagawa’s office.

Obviously, the Port Mafia rabid dog has a terrible pout drawn on his face. He’s even more confused than he was before and now he even feels inexplicably weird. His chest is so heavy he’s not sure he can normally breath, his hands are closed in fists.

“Akutagawa.” Chuuya says. 

 “Chuuya-san.” The ravenette murmurs in response, looking at him and trying to mentally come back to his work. He has no time to think about these strange feelings, okay? He has no time to investigate why the hell he suddenly feels so bad.

“Here is a message from the Boss. He wants you to… wohoh! What do we have here?” The redhaired executive notices the box on Akutagawa’s desk and a sly smirk appears on his lips. He looks like knowing a thing or two.

“A box.” Akutagawa answers laconically. What kind of problem do they all have with boxes, today?!

“This is not just a box, man.” Chuuya seems quite intrigued and he delicately opens the box, peeking inside it. His ocean’s eyes widen a little and the older man whistles in appreciation. “My, my…”

“What?”  

“This is the most fucking expensive chocolate in town. The logo is unmistakable, it comes from a famous and refined bakery.” He explains, grinning while he crosses his arms. “From whom is it? I didn’t know you were such a successful Don Juan. No offense.”

Wait, a successful WHAT?!

Akutagawa’s pale cheeks are suddenly touched by a peach colored shade of pink but there’s something in his eyes that suggests Chuuya he not fully understand the situation. The two of them looks at each other for a while, the one with a perturbed expression, the other trying not to laugh. 

It’s Nakahara that breaks the silence: “Seriously, man. It’s St. Valentine’s Day, if you recieve such an expensive gift today, well... you know what it means, don’t you?” 

But, against Chuuya’s expectation, Ryuunosuke perseveres in his silence. The black-coated man starts feeling uncomfortable, realizing he truly has no idea of what the other executive is talking about and rapidly avoids his inquisitive gaze. Akutagawa is clueless, okay, but he’s not stupid at all. He perfectly understands he’s not perfect (someone in his past never missed a chance to remember it to him) and he can recognize his lacks.

Chuuya, on the other hand, he’s quite more understanding than other Port Mafia members, especially when it comes to emotions and feelings. No, obviously he’s not a softie, he just understands a little more human beings and their emotive nature, so when he sees how confused Akutagawa is he sighs in exasperation.

“Man, if someone gives you expensive chocolate on St. Valentine’s Day, it’s because they have feelings for you. They like you that way. It’s a way to confess and, trust me, this is clearly the chocolate box I would only give to someone I fell fucking hard for.” 

First reaction: shock!* 

To our poor Ryuunosuke it’s like receiving a punch right in the stomach. His cloudy eyes widen in surprise and he’s quite sure his not-so-stoned heart lost a beat or two. So… is this the true meaning of your gift? You were trying to confess to him? You wanted to make him feel your affection? You wanted him to feel…loved?

He hisses a curse and slowly hides his face behind his left hand. Shit. He yelled at you. He accused you, just because he never thought he deserves love and affection. 

“So? Whose heart did you broke?” Chuuya jokes, hearing Ryuunosuke swearing.

"Y/n L/n. I asked them if they were trying to corrupt me or poison me.” He admits with a gloomy and yet shocked tone. 

In his defense, he had no idea you could have feelings for him. Let’s be honest: he never cared about certain things, but he’s not blind nor deaf. You are good looking, understanding, kind, diligent, resourceful, supportive. He is...well, he’s a demon. How could he even imagine someone like you falling in love with someone like him?

Chuuya sighs again. 

“You rejected Y/n. Good fucking job, man, only an idiot like shitty Dazai could do something so stupid, you really are his worthy heir.” He says sarcastically. “They gave me chocolate too. But not such an expensive one, so I can assume their feelings are stronger then we can even imagine. Maybe you’re still in time to fix the situation. If you’re interested, of course. Are you?” 

His final question sounds definetly like an insinuation and a provocation at the same time. Akutagawa narrows his feral gaze in Chuuya’s direction, meeting his allusive smirk. 

He doesn’t say a single word. But he knows the answer. 

Later that night, you come back from your daily mission. A successful mission, you want to specify, just to prove yourself (and someone else) you don’t need to corrupt your superior, because you’re the best in your job. Failure can occur, of course, but it’s a true rarity for you. 

You just endend report to the Boss himself when you see a familiar shape standing in the corridor, next to one of the polychrome windows. 

Your steps hesitate, you’re still upset and embarassed so you’re not in the right mood to face Akutagawa again, but just a second later you see he’s holding your chocolate box. 

You just stop your walk, a couple of meters separate you from the man and despite distance you can see how nervous he is. 

“Dark chocolate.” He suddenly says. “Dark chocolate is my favourite. But I didn’t know it before tasting one of each kind in this box.”

He avoids your gaze and his words kinda hurt you. He never tasted different kind of chocolate before today?

“The box is still full. I...I thought, maybe... sharing such a good chocolate with you would be a good idea.” 

“It would be nice.” You say softly. “Dark chocolate is my favourite too.” 

Your voice is trembling again. You didn’t like at all the way he treated you some hours ago, but you can see in his gesture how hard he’s trying to remediate.

“I have to apologize.” He suddenly says, and your e/c eyes widens with emotion and surprise. You perfectly know how hard is to say sorry, for a man like him, but he did it. He really did it.

“No matter what you say, I have to.” He continues. “I just... had no idea. I’m not used to all of this, and probably I’m not wort-”

“Please, don’t say that.” You firmly interrupt him and he finally looks at you. 

“That’s not true. I made you the gift you deserve. And I...”

Now or never, Y/n. Now or never. 

“ ...If you let me, I will give you the love you deserve, too.” 

Ryuunosuke needs some time to process what you said. He stays there, his eyes in yours, incredulous. Now he feels even more guilty about the way he treated you. 

How is it possible? Even after that, you still have feelings for him? Even if he yelled at you, even if he’s nothing more than a cruel and merciless rabid dog?

The silence between the two of you is dense and heavy, but not as much as your breath. He doesn’t say a word, again, and you have no idea of what to do. You did your best, today, and more. 

But, you know, Akutagawa is not a word man. He doesn’t know well how to verbally express his feelings, he’s instinctive, a man of action.

“Can I kiss you, Y/n?” 

Honestly, he thinks it’s kinda weird to ask something like that. But Chuuya always says consent is important and Ryuunosuke is a quiet learner. He doesn’t want to desrespect you, ever again. 

You are so surprised to hear this question, and yet so happy, your eyes are filled with tears. So...does he accept your feelings? And even return them? 

You slowly nod in affirmation, walking at his direction, and just a second later you wrap your arms around his body in a strong hug he tries to return properly. He’s a bit tense and awkward, but he holds you very tight. 

And then he does it. 

He presses his lips against yours, not gently, not softly, but with the quiet and passionate desperation of someone always yerned for love.

Yes, Akutagawa is totally clueless about love, St. Valentine’s Day, affection, human feelings. Totally clueless.

But he will learn, with you by his side. He will. 

* Sorry, only Italian readers will fully understand this, but I had to.

[coffeecaffineandeverythinginbtwn]

Here is my @maribat-secret-santa-2020 gift for @liquid-luck-00

I’m really sorry It’s not finished (i had trouble finishing it due to school and some rough mental health problems) but I will be posting the outline so you can know the rest of what I had planned!

again i’m so so so sorry it’s not done. happy new year! please enjoy!

:readmore:

Marinette and the Runaway Assassin

~

Marinette Grason and the Runaway Assassin

The first thing they could remember was always flying.

Their parents always told them that the first thing a Grayson ever did was fly.

Whether it be him tossing his sister in the air as she did flips, or flying on the low swing trapeze with his mother and father. they were born soaring.

Their family was the best of the best. Humans with the agility and grace of birds. Their family never stayed on the ground for long. Nothing could keep a Grayson on the ground.

Until they fell.

Their wonderful parents never flew again.

~

Dick was trying his best to keep it together, for his sister, but the pain was almost too much. He was just 16. What was he supposed to do now? He wasn’t of age to care for Marinette and he certainly didn't have much money at all.

It was two days after the fall that killed their parents. Dick had cried himself to sleep, so full of grief, stress and uncertainty the night before. He wanted, no, needed to keep his sister safe, but what were they supposed to do? Live on the street? Marinette deserved better than that. Not to mention her schooling. There was just so many things he needed to think about he had no idea if they’d ever even survive -

A knock sounded at the door, startling Dick from his thoughts.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice came from behind the door, “I would like to speak to a mister Dick Grayson.” With those words the pit inside his stomach grew. It was probably some social worker coming to separate him from the only family he had left.

Dick opened the door and saw a large man with dark hair and blue eyes in a suit, “If you’re here to take me and my sister to some orphanage, leave now. It’s not going to happen. Get lost.” Dick, the normally polite boy, ended his statement by quickly closing the door.

“Wait!” The man jumped in, using his foot to jam the door. “I’m not a social worker. Mister Grayson I presume?” Dick just narrowed his eyes and nodded his head, “My name is Bruce Wayne. I was hoping to come to an arrangement that would greatly help you and your sister.

Dick had the urge to scoff, but he let the man, Bruce, continue.

“You see, I lost my parents at a young age as well. I want to make you and Miss Marinette my wards. You two would both get to live in my manor with your own room and have all the things you two would need to live a happy life. And you would not be separated. This can all happen effective immediately, as soon as you say the word. So, What do you say?”

This was insane. It was everything he and Mari could need. They could lead a normal, safe, and good life. There were so many goods that could come of this and yet…

Graysons are never tied to the ground my little robin. We must never be afraid to spread our own wings and soar. We are free spirits and we fly our own way.

With only that thought in his head, his ressove hardened.

“While I appreciate the offer Mister Wayne, I’m afraid I have to decline.” He began, “My parents used to say that we should never let ourselves be tied down. They were free-spirited and loved to travel. I want my sister and I to continue their legacy.”

Bruce looked a little shocked at this, and also a bit put out., but he quickly covered it with a determined look of his own.

“I see. If I cannot assist with housing, please let me help in any other way possible. Money is no issue, I can promise you that.” Bruce looked so ready to help them. And hell, if they couldn't use the help.

Dick was at a loss for words, “I- Mister Wayne- I can’t thank you enough!” Marinette would get to have the life their parents would have wanted for her. He didn’t have to worry about money any more. They could be free and go where the wind would take them. This flood of relief he felt did ease his grief a little for only a moment. It was one weight lifted off his shoulders.

“It’s the least I could do Mister Grayson.” He nodded, looking a bit relieved himself.

“Please, call me Dick Mister Wayne.” At that Bruce’s mouth quirked upwards the tiniest bit.

“Only if you call me Bruce.”

~

Over the next few years, Dick and Marinette went everywhere imaginable, traveling with the circus.

Eventually they decided to travel at their own pace. Marinette instided they spend more time in their favorite countries. They spent a few months in each, both gathering a love for each culture and language. Marinette especially took a bit of every country with her, absorbing each like a sponge.

Without the circus to keep them active in their travels and with barely any means to keep themselves protected, Dick and Marinette accumulated a mesh of different fighting styles. Neither ever truly mastered one, but both fought in a way very specific to them.

~

Currently somewhere in Italy, the two were waiting for one of their mentors to arrive for a meeting.

“Duckie!!” Marinette, now nine, ran to her brother with that particular spark in her eye, “Duckie! Guess what!”

Dick, smiled a little at the familiar nickname, “What’s up Nettie?”

Marinette jumped up and down excitedly. “Look what I can do!”

The small girl smiled and ran a little ways into the field nearby and did three handsprings to the shock, and pride of her brother.

“Good job Marinette,“ A voice that was not Dick‘s called from behind them, “I’m glad to see that you are improving well.”

An overall average looking man in his late 30’s wearing a firm, yet warm expression walked towards them.

Their mentor, Malachi Dobraski.

“Uncle Chi!” The Marinettw siblings voiced, running to him.

Malachi’s mouth turned upwards at the sibling’s outburst. “Yes, yes I have finally arrived. You two are, of course, ever so humbled to be in my presence.” There was a stretch of silence before the three burst out in laughter.

“Wonderful to see you two as always.” He said as he bent down to give Marinette a hug.

“So what did you need Malachi? You never call meetings so early in the month.” Dick said as he turned to face him.

Malachi hummed in an impressed manner, “Very astute Richard. I asked you here today because I wanted you to meet a friend of mine I had mentioned earlier. Gina, If you remember.”

At the mention of the woman Marinette perked up, The one who travels all around the world like us? We really get to meet her?” She topped off her questions with a wiggle of excitement.

“We’ll have to see about that Nettie.” Dick spoke fondly as he smiled at his sister’s antics. He then turned his attention to Malachi, “Will she be in town soon? You’re rarely one to throw out praise for no reason and you’ve spoken highly of her in the past.”

“She is a lady well deserving of my praise, Richard. To answer your question, yes. Ms. Gina will be in town Thursday evening.” their mentor said with another small grin.

Dick hummed while tapping his chin, “That’s about two days from now. Unfortunately me and Mari probably won’t be able to meet with her right away. We’re tied up until Saturday I believe. Will she be in town for long?”

“Gina is a free spirit, so it’s hard to say. However she has been interested in you two since I mentioned I was taking students again. I expect she’ll stay long enough to meet you.”

“That’s great!” Dick said, as cheerful as ever, “That settles it then.”

“Yay! We get to meet aunt Gina!” Marinette exclaimed, jumping up and down.

Instead of correcting his sister, Dick just shook his head with a laugh. Why does everyone we hear of instantly become family?

~

Marinette sat at a tall table in a quiet cafe. Her tiny legs swung eagerly underneath her as she hummed to herself. Her brother was up at the counter ordering their drinks. She was sketching, or trying to. It was really hard to focus when she was so full of jitters.

Today was the day they were supposed to meet Ms. Gina and while Marinette was excited, she was just as, if not more, nervous. She has always been this way with new people.

————————

That is the end of what i have written BUT NOW the outline:

Section One

Dick is older in this 16/17

Mari is 5 or 6

They grow up with their parents, until they die, again.

Dick is old enough to be emancipated/take custody of Mari

(Bruce didn’t adopt them but he helped Dick get emancipated and gave them loads of money)

Their parents were free spirits and loved to travel

Dick decides they should keep that alive.

The two stay with the circus traveling for around a year

And they continue to travel for 1 or 2 years

They meet Gina

Dick kinda wants to settle down Gina recommends Paris

They go to Paris

They get an apartment (thank you plot convenient Bruce money)

(she’s around 10 or 11 now. He’s 19 or 20 now)

Dick wants Mari to make friends or get a feel for regular school so she goes to FD

Section Two

Separately, Damian and the league are in turmoil (the coup happens)

Thalia might die Idk

Damian, not knowing what else to do, flees to Paris?

Tom and Sabine have always wanted children but were never successful

They find this aggressive child on the streets of course they take him in

Damian would grumble about their ‘lower status’ but would of course be secretly grateful and surprised at the unconditional love and care he receives from T and S

Section THree

Back to Mari

Being raised by Dick, she learned to be true to herself and also headstrong

She takes no crap from Chloé

(She eventually learns of her situation with her mother and they become less aggressive towards each other)

(she also learns a lot of different skills and fashion things)

Section Four

Damian arrives at FD

(He’s like 10 or 11 Mari is like 11)

Damian and Mari are both ahead of the curriculum (Both home schooled) same class

She is her kind self, doesn't know anyone else well and Dami is another new kid.

They stick together out of a sort of necessity

He’s cold at first but (go figure) he softens for her eventually

They slowly grow closer as friends

Dick becomes another behaviour mentor and Brother esq figure to Dami

Dick also sees Daminette’s in love right away

He teases Mari about it

Bada Boom they're 13 now

Section Five

Miraculos canon GO

Mari gets ladybug Dami gets cat

Mari doesn't get a crush on Adrien (the gum incident doesn’t happen because Chlo and Mari are on better terms)

Mari and Dami both immediately recognize each other in costume

Mari’s outfit is black with red detailing sans her cape/glider that’s full red with the five black spots. Has deep red boots that go up to the knee. Her ribbons are longer and can detach to use as a makeshift ribbon dance things (she also goes by Ladybird instead of Ladybug)

Damian’s outfit is his assassin outfit but black and tan undertones with cat ears (his pupils don’t change to slits) Damian goes by Leopard

Dick notices a change immediately He confronts Mari, She caves and tells him too

(She consequently reveals Damian’s Identity as well. No one could have that kind of chemistry with Mari that quickly)

He signs her up for many martial arts classes (She already had training in a few, picking up a lot from her travels)

Damian also helps train Mari in some ~Assassin Skills~

Basically, they’re bad asses.

The only thing stopping them from defeating Hawkey boy quickly is the fact that they can’t find where he is

Section Six

Moving on, Salt

Lila happens

Lila still sets her sights on Adrian (he’s got money at this point Damian is just a baker's boy to Lila.

Lila isolates the two from the rest of the class, even more so than they already were

Damian thinks the class are even bigger idiots

Lila is still an awful person and wants to make both Dami and Mari’s live miserable

Lila tries to go to Dick about Mari “bullying” her

He laughs in her face (he choses laughter instead of seething anger. thanks Hawky)

Lila then tries to get through to Tom and Sabine about Damian

This time it works, they have less reason to trust Damian (and he was also a major prick when they first took him in

(this happens over a year or so. Lila slowly gaining the trust of the class and Tom and Sabine)

The environment gets very toxic Dami and Mari decide to leave the school and go to online schooling (like at college level)

Section Seven

Time skip. They are 16 now

The two have had feelings for a while, they now realize them

Dami is less emotionally stunted, having both Dick and Mari around (Tom and Sabine too but they kinda suck now) so he doesn’t panic much

Mari is full panic mode

Dick is just in the corner all smug-like. (“you didn’t know you loved him? I’ve known this for years”)

Que pining

Lots of pining

There’s some angst, Tom and Sabine are negligent towards Damian (not mean but still neglectful)

He ends up staying with Dick and Mari more often than not

Eventually they both confess after a particularly rough akuma battle (the one where mari becomes the guardian?)

Both of them almost watched the other die. That was too heartbreaking for either of them to not confess

So they are together now.

It was an easy transition, they were already married pretty much

They’ve already figured out who Hawky boy is. They just need evidence

They get evidence. They also discover Lila was working with him

They take care of the Hawkmoth situation

Section Eight

Everything is good now right? Wrong

Batman Finally goes to Paris once Hawky is defeated,

(he kept in touch with Dick all these years and knew what was going on, {He practically became their “uncle Bruce”} He only stayed away cuz Hawkmoth)

When Damian sees Bruce visiting Mari’s House he freezes,

Mari: “what's wrong Dami?”

Dami: *whispers in her ear*

M: “He’s your WHAT???”

D; *whispers more*

M: “I- You- Um- WHAT”

D: *walks up to Bruce* “Hello, I know this is an odd way to meet but I am sure you know of Thalia Al’ Ghoul.” *B nods wairily* “Yes, well, I am your son. And unfortunately hers as well.”

“Yes, I’d be perfectly happy to do a blood test.”

Dick and Mari are shook

“Damian, You must come to live with me in Gotham”

Dun

Dun

Dunnnnnn!!!!!

End Part One

Again I am sincerely sorry I was not able to complete this story in time. Like I said before, I will (maybe/probably) be finishing this and planning a part two! I hope you enjoyed! (even though it’s the first fanfic i’ve written)

[hutchhitched]

Don’t Talk To Me

Written by: @hutchhitched

Prompt 76: Modern a/u Katniss is getting over the loss of her sister (you decide how) when she meets Peeta. She’s closed off but he finds a way in. Maybe she works for him? Him for her? Maybe she cries herself to sleep on his bread scented shoulder? (Please yes I need that) [submitted by @endlessnightlock]

Ratings/Warnings: T

A/N: Y’all... It’s finally here. This is story number nine from the nine prompts I claimed for the 2020 @everlarkficexchange and then lost the will to write during the early months of the pandemic. I wasn’t sure I’d get here, but it’s happened. This is not the story I intended to write when I took the prompt, but sometimes the muse takes control, and I simply follow. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays and @endlessnightlock for being supportive of my plot change.

Katniss Everdeen hates people. Well, that’s not exactly true, but she doesn’t exactly like them either. They’re too…human or whatever. Too many acquaintances. The last thing she wants to do is get close to any of them, especially after the events of the past few months. She’s barely holding it together as it is, and introducing people or, even worse, friends could tip her right over the edge. She values her sanity.

 That’s probably why the new, sweet, disgustingly optimistic, overly friendly hire at the coffee shop where Katniss works irritates her so much. He’s just so nauseatingly earnest. It makes her want to punch him in the face.

 “How’s my favorite barista today?” he asks when she joins him behind the counter while still tying her apron. She mumbles noncommittally, but he doesn’t seem at all deterred. “I like that sweater.”

 “Peeta,” she says as she attempts to maintain control of her temper. He looks at her with such eagerness, she wilts under his obvious enthusiasm. “I’m just… It’s not a good day. Can we not?”

 His face falls, and she almost relents. She doesn’t know what it is that’s convinced him she’s someone he needs to befriend, but she simply has no interest. She doesn’t want more entanglements. They hurt too much.

 “Sorry,” he whispers and turns away. She swallows a twinge of guilt for hurting his feelings, but she doesn’t yield. Instead, she pivots to the espresso machine and starts making coffee. They work together silently, their only conversation about drink orders. They move around each other easily with no uncomfortable bumping or banging elbows or shoulders. He’s a good worker, at least, and he knows how to take a hint.

 “See you tomorrow,” Peeta says softly as his shift ends, and she flashes a brief smile. She doesn’t want to be rude, but come on. He doesn’t have to be friends with everybody.

 It continues like that for months, him fruitlessly friendly and her taciturn and distant. He continues to pursue a friendship, never pushing or prodding, simply being there and consistently showing kind. It’s exhausting.

 “How do you manage to stay so sickeningly upbeat?” she asks finally after several days of wanting to scream. He wears her down. She’d tell him to stop, but she’s starting to think she might like his optimism a little bit.

 He pauses for a second to glance at her before returning his attention to slipping sleeves onto the cup he’s holding. He calls out the order and smiles at the customer before answering. “What’s the other option? Being miserable?”

 “Well, I’m pretty good at it.”

 “I don’t think that’s true,” he argues softly. “I think you’ve had a rough time, and you’re grieving and healing. No one begrudges you that.”

 She gapes at him for a few seconds before snapping back to attention. The last thing she needs is to break down in front of everyone. Somehow, she thought he didn’t know anything. It’s disconcerting to realize her grief is on public display when she’s worked so hard to tuck it away. She reels, and he presses his lips together in frustration.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

 “It’s… You’re fine.” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I’m taking my break.”

 His wounded expression slices through her as she flees.

 ****

 Another couple of weeks pass before Katniss finds herself alone with Peeta again. They’re scheduled to close on a slow night, and everyone else has gone home when he locks the door behind the last customer and she turns off the light and secures the window for the drive through window.

 “Alone at last,” she jokes and is struck by his wry grin.

 “You don’t have to do that.”

 “Lock up? I think I do.”

 He catches her gaze and refuses to let it drop. “Pretend to be happy you’re here with me.”

 “I—”

 “I’m sorry,” he insists. “I thought maybe if I could talk to you and stop being so, you know, wounded that maybe we could take a shot at being friends. I didn’t mean to upset you, Katniss. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

 She doesn’t answer for several beats. He squirms a little and drops his eyes to study twisting hands and twitching feet. She’s going to regret this. She knows she will. Still, there’s something sweet and shy and kind that she yearns for when the rest of the world is so hard and cold. Maybe it’s weakness or something else equally awful she should expunge from her personality, but she can’t let him spiral this way. Maybe it’ll stop hers, too.

 “We could, uh, try that.”

 It comes out garbled and stunted, but the change in his countenance makes her glad she took the step. A thousand emotions flit over his handsome face, but a grin splits his lips so wide that his teeth flash white. She holds up her hands to head him off, but he steadies himself. With eyes twinkling, he chuckles.

 “I saw the fear there for a second. I’ll control myself before I start asking the deep stuff.”

 “The deep stuff?” she asks, still gun-shy.

 “Yeah, like it’s crazy that I’d voluntarily cover a shift for you if you called in sick, but I don’t know your favorite color.”

 “It’s green.”

 “Mine’s orange.”

 “Like those chairs?” she laughs and nods at the overly bright upholstery on the furniture. Apparently someone in corporate thought pumpkin spice wasn’t just their most popular fall drink; it was also where customers could put their butts as they sipped caffeine-laden drinks.

 “Softer,” he answers, his voice a breathy whisper. “Like the sunset.”

 Her eyes drift shut. He’s put a spell on the space with his words, and she wants to stay there for a moment. When he’s not being overeager, Peeta Mellark is charming as hell. Lord, help her.

 “Can I tell you a secret? It’s really important.”

 She tenses, but when she opens her eyes, she finds that he’s moved closer to her and propped his hip against the counter. He looks so young and hopeful there’s no way she can be scared of him.

 “If you must,” she sniffs and smiles to soften her response.

 “Lean in close. It’s a big one.” She does so slowly, and he waits patiently until she’s close enough that he can whisper, “Don’t tell our boss, but I’m a tea guy. Two lumps of sugar. I don’t even like coffee.”

 Her eyes widen for a split second, and then she bursts into laughter. Tears gather in her eyes as she shakes. “That’s not a big one!”

 “Coffee is life, Katniss. A known tea drinker would be cast out among the wolves. I’ll just stay incognito. I’m trusting you with my life here.”

 “And what if I spill it?”

 “Spill the tea?” He winks as she gasps for air. Just as quickly, he wipes his expression from his face and assumes mock sobriety. Somberly, he picks up the broom and starts to sweep. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have one fewer opponent to beat out for employee of the month.”

 The whole idea that Katniss, surly and grumpy as she is, could ever win a customer service award is so preposterous she can’t keep from giggling. By the time the café is clean, she’s a million times lighter. When they head separate ways after locking up, she watches him as he strides down the street. Before he turns the corner, he tosses a look over his shoulder and waves. She doesn’t even have to think about it. She waves back.

 ****

 They become friends, and it upends her life. Katniss isn’t used to having people around. Not since her sister passed away and left her all alone in the world. Katniss had gotten used to being an orphan, but when her sister was killed in a car crash, the loneliness and despair overwhelmed her. With Peeta around, she doesn’t feel quite so isolated anymore.

 They take short walks on shared breaks, and he leans down to pick dandelions from between the sidewalk cracks before handing them to her with a bashful grin. He shields her from overly aggressive customers during busy periods at the café, and, after several weeks, he manages to convince her that spending time together outside of work isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

 “Friends do tend to see each other in social settings,” he teases, and Katniss finally relents.

 They go to movies and basketball games and art exhibits and archery competitions and all sorts of other things she had no idea she’d enjoy until Peeta suggested the activity. Sometimes, they do mundane things like grocery shopping together. She finds she likes trying new things as long as there’s someone with her and they can debrief about what was good and bad afterward. He convinces her to try one of those art classes with BYOB wine and a pre-chosen image to paint, and she gasps when his own creation takes on a life of its own while hers seems like a bad paint with water replica. He teaches her to cook bread and cookies and cinnamon rolls, and she shares her heirloom lamb stew recipe with him. They’re comfortable together. He never pushes, never makes her feel like he needs anything more than simple friendship.

 Until, that is, the anniversary of her sister’s death.

 She should have taken off work. She knows that, but the café is short-handed. Besides, she needs the money. It’s rainy and muggy and awful when she leaves the house, and the subway is packed much more than usual. She’s jostled and pushed and touched inappropriately (although, that was likely unintentional with how closely pressed together the passengers are in the train car), so that by the time she gets to work, she’s irritable, grumpy, and a ten seconds from losing it.

 It’s possible it’s the weather or the alignment of the stars or an almost full-moon or the changing of the seasons. It could be that other people are suffering from trauma and loss and depression, as well. Or it could be that Katniss just has really bad luck.

 “This drink is wrong.”

 The harsh complaint is snapped at her by an unpleasant looking man with white hair and a beard. He looks at her like she’s something rotten on the underside of his shoe when he shoves the cup toward her and sloshes some of the hot liquid on her outstretched hand. She hisses at the burn and immediately turns to the sink to run cold water over her skin before it blisters.

 “Don’t turn your back on me! Fix my coffee.”

 Katniss tenses, her guard up, but she refuses to move. His actions burned her, and she’s following not only methods of self-preservation but also the company’s safe work policies. Injuries are to be treated immediately on the job. She’s doing that.

 He continues yelling, attracting the attention of patrons and staff. Peeta finishes with the order he’s taking and quickly intervenes, coming to her rescue whether she wants him to or not. She’s not sure which is accurate.

 “Can I help you, sir? My name is Peeta, and I’m—”

 The man squints at Peeta and raises a shaking hand toward me. He’s livid, and Peeta takes a half-step back at the fury that’s suddenly directed his way. The situation escalates. It’s not pretty. The police are called, and customers are shaken. That’s nothing compared to the way Katniss quakes inside her own skin. She’s barely holding it together when their manager intercedes.

 “Get her out of here,” Haymitch barks at Peeta before turning to the customer. The coffee cup he’s thrown at her rolls on the floor in a puddle of liquid. The name scrawled on the outside is Snow. It’s ironic. Katniss has always hated winter.

 They make it to the back before she crumbles, and Peeta lets go of her hand to help her sit down on a stack of crates. He settles next to her and pulls her into a loose embrace—tight enough so that she knows he’s there but loose so she doesn’t feel trapped. It’s the perfect way to comfort her. He’s perfect, and she’s a mess.

 The tears flow, and she’s too broken to bother to wipe them away. Shoulders shake and sobs tear from her throat in gulping heaves. At one point, she moans her dead sister’s name. It’s a mournful wail that washes over her and makes her hurt even worse. He pats her back and toys with the tip of her braid. It’s an unlikely source of solace, and it causes her to turn into him and press her face to his shoulder.

 He smells like bread, she realizes in a random flash of clarity. She’s lamenting her sister, but that scent claws at her senses and registers in the olfactory section of her brain. How odd, she thinks before a fresh wave of grief shakes her torso.

 “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I’m here. Take as long as you need. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

 She’s not, though. She’s not all right, and she knows he understands that. He’s working with a limited vocabulary as he tries to help her. That’s what people say when they’re faced with a weeping friend. She’s done it herself. His tone of voice and gentle touch more than prove his compassion for her pain.

 She doesn’t know how long they sit there, but it’s long enough that her tears have soaked his shoulder. A sharp cough invades their little bubble, and they both glance up to see Haymitch in the doorway.

 “Clock out,” he orders in that gruff way of his. “We’ve got you both covered. Take her home, boy.” Peeta nods at the nickname without protest. It would be offensive if it meant anything other than their boss can’t remember anyone’s names, although that’s bad enough.

 Peeta hails a cab and gives her address. He escorts her to her door and unlocks it for her before guiding her inside and seating her on the couch. When he moves away, she grabs at his hand and pulls him down next to her. His arms envelop her again, and she presses her face into his neck and allows the tears to streak down her cheeks while she hiccups. She hates being vulnerable, but she trusts him. They’ve grown close over the past few months.

 Finally, she runs dry. Her sobs subside, and her body stills. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t attempt to pull away. Instead, he simply waits and gives her the space for what she needs. It’s a beautiful thing to grieve with someone who allows it to occur instead of hindering the process. She’s not okay. She won’t be for a long time, but she’s survived today. For now, that’s enough.

 “Thank you,” she mumbles against his shoulder. When he doesn’t answer, she glances up at him through wet lashes and finds him looking at her with compassion in his piercing blue eyes. She could fall into them if she’d let herself. When he lifts his hand to brush flyaway wisps of hair from her forehead, she thinks maybe she should.

 Time freezes. There’s a pulse between them that shakes the world. They’re drawn together, and she doesn’t second guess it or pull away from him. Instead, she closes her eyes and meets his mouth with hers. It’s gentle, just a sweet brush of lips, but it tastes like a reawakening, like the snow melting away and the earth coming back to life in spring.

 It’s scary. It’s terrifying. It’s also right. After the events of the past year, she deserves a new beginning.

[yanderecandystore]

yan! ceo with a robot assistant s/o? if you’re not doin the ceo anymore then anyone else is fine >v<

The thing about the CEO character is that I… Well, I technically don't have one 👉🏻👈🏻.

I mean, I have one, but- I didn't know if I wanted to make her official, so I didn't introduced her, so…

Maybe this is the best time to properly introduce her (because I don't have a male counterpart yet, so I'll do her first).

TW/Tags: We're going into the interesting land of probably pastel/ownership kink!! // people lying a lot!!// There are hints of LGBT identity and LGBT phobia/ignorance // family issues // Thicc tower woman but I didn't mention her physic enough ;-; but imagine her being really tall // naivety coming from the reader and simping hard coming from the CEO // low-key, CEO being rude.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy lies [Yandere!CEO Oc x A.I!Reader - Fanfiction]:

Ingrid Bright. A name that just by saying can send shivers down everyone's spine. All members of the Bright family were known for being ruthless, but Ingrid was indeed something else.

A woman of power, a woman of pride, a woman of determination.

A woman of mysteries.

She was known for being a merciless business woman. A person that wouldn't let the feelings of her co-workers overcome her own destination towards glory. She was ruthless, but it was clear that her path would lead her company to greater heights.

Her attitude wasn't the most pleasant or supportive, but if it wasn't for her lead, her family's company would probably die sooner than her predecessors anticipated.

It has been passed from father to son since the founder of the corporation. From a small inventor building steam machines, to one of the most powerful corporations in technology and science. Although their research is mostly done privately, their technology is shared worldwide, even if their products are… A bit too expensive.

You think that because of such high prices, and the consumers being only the 1% of the population, the corporation was starting to fall. Ingrid's father tried to make changes to the company that sadly, went unnoticed.

It was Ingrid who changed their usual business practices drastically, which although not being perfect, helped the company get to the right tracks to a better future.

Ingrid had saved her family's company, but in the process of being passed down from "father to son", Ingrid had separated herself entirely from her dad.

Not many people really understand what happened, but Ms. Bright had a terrible argument with her father, that caused the two to cut communication.

Ms. Bright still wears the name Bright proudly. It could be either for the meaning of it, or for her strong connection with her family.

You don't really know if it's true, but, you are 65% certain that Ms. Bright may miss her father in some way or another, and keeping the name not only honors her family's achievements and predecessors, but also keeps her being at least a little closer to her father.

Not that she would ever tell you the reason why, you're only left to speculate.

"And who am I in the story?" You may be thinking. Well, you're a hand built assistant android with the latest a.i, created to serve Ms. Bright.

And also, a gift, from Mrs. Bright to his only daughter.

You see, Ingrid has trouble communicating. She can be a little rude when in reality she means well. Although, you have to admit that even if you worked for her for five years now, she is really, really scary.

"- You're an overly glorified doll, an a.i that man built to assist me when every other person around me is absolutely incompetent." She told you as she was walking really, really fast to her office. You tried following her pace but it was really hard for you to go just as fast as her.

"- You're supposed to do the tasks that I order you to do, yet you went out of your way once again." She was scolding you because of an incident that occurred a couple of seconds ago. You're beautifully designed, perfect for being a social android capable of resolving simple tasks. But you weren't built for holding weight.

"- I-I'm sorry Ms. Bright-!" You tried helping a couple of manual workers that were rebuilding one of the rooms. They were holding really heavy stuff that although it was natural to them, it made your arms disattached and one of your legs break from trying to support your whole body and the extra weight.

You can't help but feel intimidated under her gaze, but you know that… Deep down, behind that rough exterior there is a person that doesn't want you to get hurt.

"- This is the eight time you do this and I can't stand that pompous prick! There is no way in hell I'll let that guy touch you again." She was talking about one of the robot engineers inside the building. You think his name was Mack, you're not sure.

Funny isn't it? You've been in his office seven times and you still don't remember his name! But you remember him being pretty funny.

"- Why won't you let Mack fix me?" You asked genuinely confused. Your naivety is adorable, but dear Lord, how infuriating it is!

"- That prick gives me some really odd glances, and besides, he's annoying." Ingrid entered her office pulling you in and closing the door. It's been such a busy day today, can't a woman enjoy her birthday in peace?

Ingrid was only being half honest. Yes, she finds Mack to be annoying, but the true reason why she hates him is because of the smug face he makes every time you two enter his office.

He knows there is something a little different from the way Ingrid treats you from the rest of the "underlings".

"- So, who will fix me?" She sits you down on the couch, as she storms around the room trying to remember all of the things she needs to resolve today.

"- I'll fix you up when I get back, I just need to- Argh, God, [Y/N] have you seen my phone?" She was crouching down to look under her desk.

"- It's, right in front of you, Ms. Bright." Her hand was right by the phone's side, yet she was so stressed out that she didn't seem to notice how close her phone was.

"- Unh? Oh." She is always in a hurry, especially on her birthday. You wish she could sit down and relax a bit, couldn't she just, don't work on her birthday? You think she should be able to stay at home at least one day.

While looking at all her notifications she reread all of the tasks you had to complete today. She decided that she'll first have her meeting with some executives and then she'll come back to fix you. She isn't really skilled in fixing robots but it'll have to do.

There is no way she is going to see that smug face today. And no way is she going to let that bastard's greasy hands touch you.

Oh, that rat gets too comfortable touching you. You're not only a fragile device but you're also property of Ingrid Bright, he is supposed to repair you whenever you're broken, not make fun of the CEO while she is right there! The audacity of this man to not only make fun of his boss in her presence, but also make jokes for you to laugh at.

"- [Y/N], when I come back I'll fix you, or maybe call someone else to do it, I don't know yet, but either way stay still. I'm probably going to take four to five hours to come back, so feel free to use the computer or read a book if you're bored." She was getting ready for her reunion, as she continued to walk in circles around the room trying to find some papers she was supposed to take to the reunion.

"- I can review some data in the computer, and probably fix some documents that need to get revised-" You wanted to be useful and try to continue your work. You feel that if you just stay in the room waiting for her to come back, you won't be really helping her like you're supposed to.

"- No, no, please, stay right there. You don't need to do your tasks today." She had cut you off stating that you shouldn't be moving so much. Your parts are almost falling down, and she still doesn't know how she'll fix you.

"- But!-" You tried to reason, but your boss was way too much of a hot head.

"- I'll be back, okay." She said as she closed the door.

Well. Guess is nap time! Or, restore energy time, I guess?

But before you managed to shut down, you heard a couple of knocks on the door.

"- I'm coming." You said hoping the person on the other side would hear it. You don't remember if anyone was going to visit Ms. Bright today, but you didn't want to keep the person waiting too long.

You tried to maneuver yourself to the door, as having one broken leg and both arms falling apart wasn't really easy.

"- Ms. Bright is having a meeting now, but I'm sure she can contact you later!" You warned the stranger, thinking that maybe they wanted something from Ms. Bright.

"- Can I help you- Oh!" You finally managed to open the door but there was no one on the other side. Only a box with flowers on top.

"- Pink lilies, yellow orchids and white roses, what a strange combination." You thought out loud. You're aware of how often Ms. Bright gains gifts from secret admirers, but never one so unusual and especially on her birthday.

Everyone knows she hates roses. You wonder if there is any card saying who is the sender.

You go back to the couch, with the bouquet in one hand, and the other one dragging the box to the couch, as you can't really pick it up. You try finding a gift card or any form of hint of who the sender is.

You found one! But… It's with the Bright Vision Corp symbol on it, and is saying that is from Mrs. Bright to Mrs.-…

Oh.

Oh, you know who sent this.

"- Mrs. Bright… You're really stubborn..." Ingrid's father always sends her a gift on her birthday, mostly flowers, with a gift card with his number.

Now that you think about it, maybe the flowers that were chosen aren't so unusual, maybe they mean something. Normally he would send hyacinths. A full bouquet of only hyacinths.

They were gorgeous, but…

Every single gift card contained his name, and Ms. Bright 's old name, and she really doesn't want to be referred to with that name. She had told him the other times he sent these how she feels about it, yet, the old man doesn't seem to comprehend his own daughters feelings.

Is it because of ignorance? Is it because of spite? Is it because he doesn't care? Is it because he doesn't know any better?

Which one? You personally don't know. And Ingrid, doesn't care.

The first time he sent her this gift, she called him, but things didn't really work out.

She doesn't want to interact with him anymore, and so she burns his gifts. You asked her why, but, she just doesn't want to have him in her life anymore.

He is living his life in the countryside with his wife, living a traditional and simpler lifestyle that he always wanted. While Ingrid is living her best life really distant from them, in this big city full of lights.

Even if that means missing them sometimes.

You respect Ms. Bright privacy, so you haven't continued asking her about her decisions. This bouquet is so pretty though, it would be a shame to burn such beautiful flowers.

"- I think… Maybe she should keep this…"

You look at the box that came with the flowers. Well, "with the flowers", as looking at the box more carefully you can see that it wasn't her dad that had sent the box to her, but rather it was something she had ordered online.

"- Oh, I can't believe it is here!" Honestly, this one box has taken three weeks to find its way to the company, what the hell it's inside? The curiosity of seeing her buy this but never tell you what it was, was eating you up inside.

She was being so mysterious about this, she didn't even let you use her computer. She probably thought you were going to see her history and see what she brought (and yes, you would).

"- It's probably another fancy imported dress. Or maybe it's one of those cute japanese trinkets!" You thought about picking up the box, but your arms would probably break if you tried.

"- Sigh, actually, it may be another piece of equipment for her office, like her last birthday." You sighed out loud once again, remembering how her least birthday was incredibly boring, even to you, and you don't really understand what birthdays are!

You get a little bit, it's a special date that commemorates the birth of a human being. They receive gifts and get a happy birthday party, and everyone says "happy birthday!"...

Okay, maybe you want someone to say happy birthday to you, but that is beside the point.

"- She probably have brought new computer just so she can keep being a workaholic and get stressed out every five seconds!" You probably shouldn't be ranting so loudly, but still! It 's her birthday! She shouldn't be buying things that are for her job, she should be focusing on buying stuff that makes her happy!

Actually, maybe you… Should give her something-

"- I'm back-" Oh dearest, that was kinda fast-

You throw the gift card aside, as you have thought about a really dumb but possibly great idea.

"- [Y/N], I- [Y/N]?!? What happened to your arm?!?" She started talking with a calm and almost soothing voice until she noticed that one of your arms has started to actually fall apart from your body.

"- Uhn, nothing much." I mean, to you is nothing, really, it's just inconvenient.

"- Oh dear… Pfft, Jesus you really are a handful." She is in an oddly playful mood, which is perfect actually! This is probably the first time she doesn't sound so terribly stressed.

"- Has everything gone well in the meeting?" You ask, while you follow with your eyes her moviments. She is hyperventilating from doing so much stuff and going around the place at full speed. (Although she just… Walks really fast).

"- Well, yes, you know the usual, a bunch of old people saying this, saying that-" She starts going in detail, but she doesn't really care about the meeting. She is tired and all that she wants is to take a bath.

She lays down on the other couch across from you and goes on her rant about her day, it's honestly kinda funny how she lets herself be more comfortable with you. She doesn't like shoving her problems down on anyone's throat but she is glad you're listening.

She can feel your soft gaze on her form. It's honestly comforting. Throughout the day she poses as an absolute untouchable goddess, and everyone, even you, looks at her like she is absolutely terrifying. And, yes she knows, and yes, she… Kinda likes it.

Don't get her wrong, it is not like she is going to come out of your bed and grab your foot at night. She just feels a little stronger knowing people see her as untouchable. She doesn't feel like she is, though.

And when it comes to you, is… it is different. It's weird… She likes how you look scared, but also look so relaxed around her.

How casual you act, and how affectionate your gaze feels.

She turns her head to look at you, to confirm her thoughts but-

"- Oh… Don't tell me." Flowers. Flowers again. She has two intuitions about what those flowers are. None of them are of her interest.

"- Oh- Oh, wait! These are…" Oh dear, are you really going to continue with this plan? You want to see her happy but- Something feels wrong about this plan, something feels wrong about lying…

"- These are from who, [Y/N]?" She was getting impatient, not because of your delay, but mostly because she couldn't stand the thought of her old man sending her flowers again.

She feels weak, every time he sends her these gifts. She feels like she is going to break down and… Call him again.

And if it is an admirer, well, there goes 60 dollars worth of flowers down the drain, because she is burning them. Such a shame, really.

"- It's, I- I brought this! Happy birthday!" You screamed, because your system couldn't take the heating coming from your processor. Why does it take you so much effort to just lie? And is not like it's a big-big lie, it's just a small lie?!?

"- Ah- I, what?" All of that anger, all of those intuitions, all of those plans to burn the hell of these flowers, went completely out of the window.

She is completely lost. She can't understand what, why, when, and how?? You don't even have money, how would you buy it??

"- Oh, [Y/N], you… You really don't follow my instructions, do you?" She joked as she started to tear up- Wait, no!

"- No! Please don't cry!! I'm sorry for going against your orders I just- I-I really wanted to give you something special!!" You didn't want to make her sad, why does everything that you do have the opposite effect??

"- N-No, dummy, I'm not sad because of you. I'm happy because of you." You never gave her something like this, she didn't think it was possible for you to give her something like this. They're beautiful. They're so precious.

You're so precious.

But why roses, though? Oh well, who cares!

"- Thank you so much, [Y/N]." She had approached you, taking the flowers and holding one of your hands.

She was towering over you which was making it really hard for you two to meet each other's eyes, so she crouched down to your level.

You're really broken down, she is sweaty and tired, but none of these things matters to her. This really feels like one of those special moments.

Well… Mostly to her. You're so naive, you just feel like you gave your best friend a nice gift!

Like a cat giving their owners a prey they have hunted down. You're proud of making her happy!

Oh, but things are never really so sweet, are they?

"- [Y/N], I have something- Oh, speaking of the devil, right?" She didn't finish her sentence as she noticed the box at your side.

' This day has gone from good to better!'

"- [Y/N], I also have a gift for you."

"- But I don't have a birthday-"

"- Today is your birthday, I mean, you were activated for the first time on my birthday. So, this kinda means that we share a birthday." She is talking with her normal soothing voice, but the slight tone of happiness that came with it didn't go unnoticed.

Just like your face brightening up at the news.

' It's my birthday?!!?!' You thought.

Ingrid opened the box, absolutely excited to see your face. She took your birthday gift from inside.

"- Take a look! What do you think?" She said holding an outfit that was inside the box.

Well, you were right in a way, it was an expensive imported outfit. But… You don't know, there is something different about this outfit.

It's not as fancy and modern as Ms. Bright, but it wasn't like your "futuristic" uniform. Your uniform was minimalist and grey and white, yet the outfit was- Uhn… What's the name?

Pastel! Pastel with laces! That's the name you were looking for!

It was... cute! You it's definitely more colorful than your uniform. You're just happy you have received your first ever birthday gift, and that you don't have to wear only grey uniforms.

But wasn't the outfit a little short? A little too reveling?

Inside the box there were a couple more clothes inside. All had the same theme.

"- Well, I guess now I have matching outfits!" You joked with Ingrid, not really getting the whole picture just yet.

"- Ms. Bright, I'm really thankful for your gifts! I'm so happy that-" She interrupted you by putting a finger on your mouth.

"- Call me Ingrid, [Y/N]."

"- Oh, sure!" You said, registering the new rule.

"- …" She keeps staring at you tho. Waiting for a better response.

"- Ingrid…?" You said half asking as you didn't know exactly what she was waiting for, but after seeing the satisfaction on her face, you understood that you did right regardless.

She moved away and started packing her stuff, she was planning on going back to her house.

"- It's really late now, maybe when we get home I can repair you in peace." She said.

"- But… I always stay inside the office, don't I?" You asked, genuinely confused. She didn't need to go out of her way to fix you, you could just wait until tomorrow.

"- You used to. Come on, I'll bring you home." She picks you up. You aren't as heavy, the only thing causing some weight to be pulled down is your arms falling off. She was so excited!

"- Oh, well, I guess we'll be back in the morning right?" You asked her, and once again, you showed how naive you truly were.

"- Uhn, no, you won't be coming back. I will." She said bluntly.

"- Wait, what do -"

"- You won't be coming to work anymore, [Y/N]. You're staying inside my house."

"- But Ingrid-"

"- You aren't really the "corporation's property", so there isn't any problem of me bringing something that is mine to my house." She is rushing her pace so she can get to her car faster. God, she can't wait to throw herself on her bed.

"- Ah-" You were coming up with a hundred questions. But she decided to interrupt you so she can try and explain to you.

"- Look, before you make any more questions, let me clarify the situation. You are my android assistant right?" She does sound a little pissed, even she can tell, but please don't interpret it as she being mad at you.

I mean, she is just a little bit, but it is not your fault, you're just scared of the sudden turn of events!

You nod to her, feeling more and more confused and scared. But why would you be scared? You shouldn't be scared! Ingrid is your friend, and she is also your boss.

And she is also your owner.

"- So, I… I'm going to need you to stay inside my house from now on. You'll help me with my housework from now on. I don't need your services inside the corporation anymore."

' But I still need you in my life. As cheesy as that sounds.' She thought.

"- Oh, well, I'm glad I'm still of service!" She can't blame you for having a narrow-minded mentality. You were built to serve. Just that.

But, she does need you in her life. Her personal life. It's a complete mess after all, so she isn't completely lying.

Of course she won't let you do too much work. But she knows that throwing a new environment and new concepts to you all in one night can be pretty heavy. Can't have you steaming up and exploding on her, right?

All that matters is that you're happy, she is happy, and you're both hiding the truth.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[avis-writeshq]

Can you write a song fic? Do you do those? With Oikawa based on the song Ours by Taylor Swift? Love your blog btw!

Oikawa Tooru x Reader: Ours

Requested: Yep, by anon!

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader

Summary: Elevator buttons and morning air, sometimes people suck. But when there’s a light at the end of the tunnel (cough, Oikawa), you can’t help but keep moving.

Warnings: Fluff, small angst if you look carefully, trash writing

Other: I loooooovveeee this song! It’s basically a baby ‘Lover’ aw! Thanks for the request anon!

Word count: 1,647                                                                                            

 Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

Y/N: Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

***

 You shuffled awkwardly into the tiny gap in the elevator, clutching your brief case tightly. You silently cursed the chatty café worker who tried to get you to buy 3 banana breads when you only wanted 1. You glanced around though your peripheral vision; you knew all these people. The janitor in the corner and the annoying office lady who always has a little lipstick on her teeth… even the frustrating office prankster who worked in the stall right next to you. And yet… you didn’t know their names. You would’ve thought that after 2 years of working in the same company you would get used to your colleagues, right?

 Wrong.

 You closed your eyes tightly, waiting to reach the 42nd floor. You needed to get through the day. Well, unless one of your co-workers decided to test your patience.

 Patience… how could a random annoying person test your patience? Honestly, you probably dealt with the worst. A fond smile drifted onto your face at the thought. At least he genuinely apologised when he annoyed you.

 The soft ding of the elevator brought you out of your reverie. You tried to take a step forward, only to be pushed over by the rest of the people who were once occupying the elevator.

 “H-hey!” You yelped, dropping your case to the floor despite the iron-grip you had on it. “Friggin hell…”

 Apparently respect is an uncommon thing around here. You let out a soft sigh, “Tooru… when you get back, you owe me chocolate and a Disney marathon.”

 With that, you walked over to your little stall and dropped the case to the floor. Turning your computer on, you couldn’t help but stare at the desktop image. It was a selfie of you and Oikawa. He was doing a peace sign at the camera while pressing a kiss to your cheek. You shook your head. Come on, focus.

 Oikawa is in America; being in the National Volleyball tournament was his dream. And this was your dream job. Yeah… what a lie.

 Your lunch break took way longer to come than expected. You fished out your store-bought salad and headed to the staff room. There were a few other staff members inside – a lot of the others preferred to go out for lunch instead of staying in the drab office.

 “Hey, isn’t that L/N Y/N?”

 Your name caught your attention and you listened into the conversation.

 “Why is she working here while her boyfriend is all the way in America? Isn’t she scared of him finding someone better?”

 Well, they weren’t being subtle about their rudeness. But the truth is, you were scared, even if it was just a little bit. You didn’t want to be, you trusted him, but there was a small nagging doubt in the back of your head. You knew what Tooru would say if he heard what you were thinking.

 “You know you’re better than them,” he told you once when you finally drew out the confidence to tell you how you felt. “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind. I’m yours. Forever and always.”

 The day seemed to go on and on, but then the clock hit 5 o’clock and you bolted out of the office building. Finally! You got out of that cramped little stall. You let out a long sigh as you boarded the train, scrolling through your social media.

 “So… you’re Oikawa’s little toy, huh?”

 You froze at the icy tone of the woman next to you. She was, for lack of better words, completely and utterly gorgeous. Her ruby painted lips and her large hoop earrings, as well as her long platinum hair, gave her a superior vibe and you shuffled awkwardly at her words. Toy?

 “What are you-”

 “Oh? Tooru didn’t mention me?” A sickly sweet smile stretched across her face. “I am Tachibana Reina.” She looked you up and down, her smile quickly replaced with a scowl. “I wonder why Oikawa went for the likes of you.”

 You said nothing, thinking of another comeback. No matter how hard you tried, she had a point. There was nothing that special to you. The only thing you were ‘known for’ was your crazy dance moves – and you swore everyone who witnessed that to secrecy. You shook your head mentally. You can’t think like that. You shouldn’t care about what people have to say about you and Tooru. After all, he was your boyfriend. He was yours, not anyone else’s and he was like a loyal puppy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and you probably trusted him more than you trust yourself.

 “Maybe because I’m real,” you answered backhandedly.

 “What did you say?!” Whoop, she’s angry now.

 You shrug casually, getting up just as the train stopped. “Well, it was nice talking to you. See you never.” And with a smile and a wave, you hopped off the train.

 ***

“Hey!”

 The tired man on the other side of the screen smiled at your energetic form. “Hello, my love.”

 You grin, “Are you tired? Sorry, it must be really early there…”

 “I was just about to do my morning run,” Oikawa hummed letting out a yawn. “It’s nice to know that my lovely girlfriend is thinking about me. Well? How was your day?”

 “The usual,” you shrugged. “Was shoved over in the elevator, had a bunch of office ladies gossip about me behind my back, the works. Oh, but I did manage to flip off one of your crazy exes so that was nice.”

 He snorted, but a glimmer of concern was in his eyes. “Did they say anything?”

 “Well, your lovely ex, Tachibana I think her last name was, decided to shoot some insightful words to me,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m fine though, no biggie.”

 Oikawa gazed at you through the screen and a charming smile lit up his features. “You’re perfect, Y/N-chan~. Don’t listen to them, okay?”

 “I haven’t been for the past 5 years, thanks for noticing. Now go do your run dummy.”

 “I’m coming home tonight~ see you later!”

 And after pressing the big red button and putting your phone on charge, you slowly drifted to sleep.

 ***

Life seemed to hate you. Eh, you were used to it by now. The elevator was packed again today, and you did your best to push your way through. And… you got hit in the face with a briefcase, someone spilled coffee on your white shirt, and you almost landed flat on your face when someone ‘accidentally’ tripped you over. You groaned, reminding yourself to take the stairs next time, even if you have to walk up 42 floors and die halfway.

 And the whole day went the same. You had to deal with the same old shenanigans. People talking behind your back, the random paper aeroplanes that missed your head by an inch, that 1 staff member who liked to steal people’s food even though it was clearly labelled… man, you better get that dumb promotion or you were so out of there.

 5 o’clock seemed to never come as you stared blankly at your computer screen. ‘Woah, Tooru is in another magazine. Good job, babe, if you don’t treat me to chocolate, yaint seeing a camera ever again.’ You thought to yourself, spooning another spoon of yogurt into your mouth.

 “So… when is Oikawa coming back?” A haughty voice questioned from behind you in fake sympathy.

 Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “Why would you like to know?”

 “It must be hard… long-distance relationships are the worst.” She smirked at you.

 “It’s not as bad as people make it out to be. I trust him.” A soft smile graced your features and the woman scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder and leaving you to your peace.

 ***

So, according to Miyagi Airlines, Tooru’s flight would arrive at 5:30, which allowed you more than enough time to scoot your butt to the airport. You let out a sigh, scrolling through the pictures on your phone as you sat in the train. Reminiscing the times during High School seemed to be the best thing you could have done and you felt all the negative emotions that you built through the day seemed to evaporate. All the memories of the old volleyball team at Aoba Josai, meeting Tooru for the first time in your first year… yeah, those were the best times. You smiled wistfully at your phone. Damn, you couldn’t wait to bury him alive in hugs and kisses.

 As soon as the train came to a stop, you ran out through the doors and scoured the airport for the America-to-Japan flight. Aha, bridge 8.

 And that’s where you saw him. Glasses on his gorgeous tired face, his chocolate brown locks messy and tousled like always… you swore you fell in love all over again. And then, he saw you. His once tired expression was replaced with a bright smile that shone like a thousand stars. As he dropped his backpack to a random chair, you threw your briefcase to the side before wrapping your arms around him.

 He buried his head into your shoulder, peppering light kisses against your neck as he did so.

 “I missed you.” He murmured, tangling his long fingers into your hair as he pressed his lips to yours.

 You smiled into the kiss, whispering against his lips, “I missed you, too.”

 And the smiles and laughs that overtook your features were bright and loud, despite the small tears that pricked in your eyes that he gently wiped away.

 “You owe me a Disney marathon,” you said, as he picked his suitcase up from the baggage claim.

 “Yeah, I had a feeling,��� he grinned, entwining his fingers with yours.

 You smiled, squeezing his hand lightly. You could get used to this.

 [The stakes are high. The water’s rough. But this love is ours.]

Copyright Disclaimer:

All characters except for the reader and my OC’s (listedbelow) are the work of Haruichi Furudate(古館春一).This is not part of the canon work by any means. I do not claim ownership overthe characters or the Haikyuu storyline and plot. Without Furudate Sensei’swork, myself as well as many other writers are unable to create these stories.

 My OC’s:

Fukuhara Aneko(福原あねこ)

Hasegawa Sakura (長谷川さくら)

Emiko Etsudo (えつどうえみこ)

Tachibana Reina (橘れいな)

[ericsonclan]

Hope in A Forever Home

Summary: Brody and Ruby continue to dream of finding their forever home but fate seems to oppose the siblings' wishes.

Word Count: 2341

Read on AO3:

“I thought that would be it,” Brody whispered, her voice muffled against her knees that were pulled up to her chest.

Ruby sat down next to her sister and put a comforting arm around her. “I know,” Ruby’s own face fell at the thought.

When they had arrived at that house a year ago and met their foster parents, they really thought there was a chance. That it would become more than just another lost cause where they would get tossed back into the system. Yet here they were, one year later, and stuck back in foster care. Their belongings stuffed away in trash bags and their hopes crushed.

“Was it because of us?” Brody lifted up her head and looked at her younger sister with blurry eyes.

“No,” Ruby wrapped her arms around Brody with a tight hug. “They said they were moving and that…” Ruby took a deep breath, “And that they couldn’t take us with them.” Ruby wasn’t sure how much of her foster parents’ words she actually believed. Even if it was true that they couldn’t have taken them, the burning question always reappeared in both of the sisters' minds: Why not? Was there something wrong with them? It had taken a year of being in the system before they were even chosen by potential parents and now a year later they were stuck back at square one.

“Ruby?” Brody pulled back from the hug, looking directly into her sister’s eyes, “Do you think we’ll ever find it, our forever home?”

Ruby put on a brave smile and gave a huge nod. “Sure! We’ll find it no matter what. Heck, I bet our future parents are just out there waiting for us,”

Brody didn’t seem to fully buy it but she agreed anyway before rubbing at her eyes. “I’m sure they can’t wait to meet us!” Brody gave a weak smile, “Even if it's not right when we’re nine and ten,”

Ruby gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, just watch. Before you know it we’ll get a new home.”

----

Ruby’s words turned out to be true. It only took one month of being stuck in the system before new foster parents decided to give them a chance. Everything seemed to be going smoothly at the beginning. They had to share a room with Jessica, their new sister, but they didn’t mind. Jessica’s mom thought it would be best if Jessica had sisters so that she wouldn’t be lonely and Brody and Ruby couldn’t be happier at being given this chance.

Jessica was a very introverted girl, mainly keeping to herself and only looking up from her books when she wanted to talk. At first this hurt Brody and Ruby’s feelings but they soon got used to it. It was just nice to have a home, a warm bed and parents who were nice whenever they saw them, which was rarely throughout the week. Their schedule was pretty packed. The pair of sisters would mainly hang out together throughout the day, going to school and then playing in the backyard. It seemed like a nice, simple existence. After six months of being there Brody and Ruby were starting to believe they had finally found the right home.

“Whatcha want to do today, Brody?” Ruby walked alongside her sister, opening the back patio door.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling a bit antsy today so maybe just hang out by the pool?” Brody mumbled, stopping to look around for Jessica who was nowhere to be found.

“Jessica is probably reading again, y’know how she is,” Ruby sat down by the pool and was soon joined by Brody. The sisters sat together, talking about random topics here and there while they let their feet kick in the pool water when Jessica strolled outside with her phone. The eleven year old looked at Brody and Ruby for a moment before sitting down in one of the nearby chairs. Lazily, Jessica grabbed the remote and pointed it towards the weatherproof TV that the family owned in their outdoor patio. When the TV buzzed to life, a news reporter was reporting a local unfortunate accident.

“On highway 95 there was a horrible car crash where a family of five was found dead on site. Police are unsure who was responsible as it seemed to be a simple case of a hit and run-”

“Jessica, can you change it?” Ruby’s voice shook, her eyes unwilling to make eye contact with her.

Jessica looked confused but agreed to it, changing the channel. Suddenly Brody sat up, her hands shaking violently.

“Brody,” Ruby carefully moved forward to her sister who backed away.

“Ruby, I-” Brody didn’t finish that sentence; her breathing had become erratic. It felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her mind had been thrown back into the past on the day she and Ruby had lost their parents and she couldn’t seem to escape. A bead of sweat travelled down her face as she paced back and forth to try and calm herself down. Ruby was about to speak when the sound of metal scratching against the floor drew her attention to Jessica who looked worried.  

“What’s wrong?” She moved forward to Brody.

“Wait, Jessica-” Ruby tried to warn her but it was too late. Jessica had placed a hand on Brody’s shoulder who lashed out, pushing Jessica back. Jessica stumbled backwards and lost her footing, falling hard on her arm before slipping into the pool.

Brodys’ eyes widened when she realized what she had done. “Jessica!” Brody shook even more violently as she and Ruby helped Jessica out of the pool.

“I’ll call Mr. and Mrs. Stevens,” Ruby ran into the house and called Jessica’s parents who were furious at the news. When they returned home, Mr. Stevens helped Jessica into the car to take her to the hospital while Mrs. Stevens yelled at the sisters for what had happened.

Ruby tried to explain how things had gone, but Mrs. Stevens was too emotional to really hear it. Instead she left them alone at the house while she drove off to join her husband and Jessica at the hospital.

Ruby and Brody sat in silence as the hours passed until they returned home. When Jessica entered the house with a cast on her arm, Ruby and Brody ran forward only for the girl to flinch. Mrs. Stevens looked down at them before guiding Jessica into her room.

Later that week, a social worker came by to pick up Ruby and Brody. Mr. and Mrs. Stevens didn’t want to risk having them around Jessica anymore. Brody and Ruby grabbed their few belongings and after a two hour drive they were back at foster care. Thrown back into a room with nothing but each other.

As soon as the doors closed, Brody let out an ugly sob, falling down to her knees. “I-I’m so sorry Ruby,” Brody covered her face with her hands. “It’s all my fault. I lost us our forever home because of my stupid panic attack. It’s just when I saw the news-”

Brody’s sentence was cut off by the warm embrace of her sister who tried her best to mask her tears. But Brody could feel the heat of them on her shirt. “It wasn’t your fault, it was an accident,” Ruby took a calming breath when she felt Brody trembling in her arms. The two sat in silence save for the sound of tears that escaped their eyes as they felt the weight of the foster system thrown back onto their shoulders.

----

It was two months until they were given another chance. This time it was a single mom and her thirteen year old son named Bobby. The minute they arrived, Ruby and Brody could sense that something was off. It only took one night to figure out what it was: Bobby. It was clear that his mom adored Bobby with her whole heart, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it was something Bobby used to his advantage.

Every day in the house was painful. Bobby constantly picked on Brody, overwhelming her with his screaming and roughhousing. Ruby tried to step in between them, her fiery side appearing when she would protect Brody. Bobby didn’t seem to care though. He knew as well as the two of them did that if they did anything even remotely mean to him he would get his mom to send them back into the system. So Brody and Ruby tried their best to get through day by day until four months had passed.

“Hey, you!” Bobby yelled at Brody who flinched at his tone. She was already more on edge then usual; she had barely gotten any sleep last night. Memories from long ago haunted her dreams. When she went over to wake up Ruby she was already awake. It seemed like she’d had a rough night of nightmares as well.

“B-b-bobby! I, umm,” Brody stumbled over her words while she slowly backed away from the bully.

“B-b-bobby! I umm,” Bobby repeated Brody’s words in a mocking tone. “Shut up! I’m tired of you and that other stupid redhead being here,” His hand shot out and wrapped around Brody’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Brody felt her panic rise within her. “Let go of me. Please.” Brody struggled but it only made the boy laugh more.

“You’re so stupid,” Bobby had a twisted smirk on his face.

“Hey!” Ruby screamed, drawing Bobby’s attention just in time for her fist to connect with his jaw. It was a power punch that sent the thirteen year old flying backward, landing hard on his butt.

“Shit! You’re in so much trouble now,” Bobby hissed, his hand cradling the side of his face that was already starting to form a bruise.

“If you ever do something like that again, I’ll really kick your ass!” Ruby snapped back at him, tears pricking her eyes while she held onto her sister’s hand like a vice.

“Momma!” Bobby cried as he scrambled into the house. It only took seconds for his mom to come outside, a look of utter rage and hatred on her face.

“I let you into my house out of the goodness of my heart and you bully my son!” She motioned back to Bobby who smiled at Ruby and Brody, a look that disappeared into fake sadness when his mom glanced back. “You hit him! I should’ve known that the foster system only breeds more rebels and violent kids like you.”

She pulled out her phone, immediately dialing a number and putting it up to her ears. She had called the foster home, demanding that they take back Ruby and Brody this instant. The two sisters were dragged away once again, placed into a spot that seemed to be becoming their true “forever home” more and more each day.

Ruby sat on the floor when her body started shaking with the weight of her sobs. Tears poured down her face and a clear line of snot dribbled from her nose. “I did the right thing!” Ruby yelled into her knees. “I just want to protect you, but now I think I screwed up any chance we have at another foster parent.”

Brody sat down next to Ruby and gently wrapped her arms around her. “It’s okay as long as we have each other,” Brody whispered into her sister’s ear. “Maybe we’ll never have a forever home,” Brody let go of the hug and let her back hit the wall with a soft thud. “I heard from some of the older kids that they’re gonna just wait to age out of the system. It would be in...” Brody counted the years on her fingers, “Seven years for me, but then we’d be free from this,” Brody gestured at their empty, hollow room.

Ruby shook her head. “No, I want us to find a home, not just to get by,” Ruby wiped away angrily at her tears with a huff. “I still believe we can get it. I’m just going to be on my best behavior from here on out!”

Brody looked surprised by her sister’s declaration. “I will too,” she reached out her hand with her pinky extended.

Ruby looked at Brody’s pinky with a warm smile before extending her own and interlocking them. “It’s a promise then!”

----

The pair of sisters really did keep to their promise. Each of them tried to be on their best behavior in hopes that a foster parent would give them a chance. It didn’t work at first. Months passed before they were finally chosen again.

But they soon realized that the household only wanted them for the money that they got from taking care of them. After a few months there, they were thrown into another household that seemed to only care about the same thing. It felt hopeless when they were back in the foster home, sleeping on the rickety old beds, just getting through day by day.

Until four days after Brody’s thirteenth birthday when they were informed that there was another family that wanted to foster them. Brody and Ruby were both unsure about the next house. They sat quietly in the car, their hands intertwined while they looked out the window, watching the rolling scenery that flew by. It was a twenty minute drive there when the social worker opened the door for them. When they stepped out they both shielded their eyes from the sharp, bright sunlight. Once their eyes had readjusted they saw the house surrounded by a small front yard. Peeking out from the back of it was a half built treehouse with a sign that was hard to read from there.

“Are you two ready?” The social worker looked back at them. “I know it’s tough, but who knows. Maybe this will be your lucky break,”

Ruby and Brody shared a look. They doubted that was the truth, but they couldn’t give up yet. Forcing on smiles, they looked back at the worker. “We’re ready,”

[rolanberry-rebel]

A Hasty Escape

Blazing golden chandeliers bathed the foyer’s shimmering and crystalline accoutrements in a rich glow. Frothy champagne overflowed from fine stemware and gathered crowds of the wealthy, the powerful, and the ever-present from across all of Eorzea gathered upon velvet furnishings; carved wood trimmed in gold, and laughter issued from painted lips and pretty faces.

And it frankly bored Anylissa Sebastis, the Sebastis family heiress of fifteen years, utterly to death. She hid near the corner of the banquet table, its covering, too, trimmed in gold; her family was a great many things, but ‘subtle’ was not one of them. Controlling a merchant empire stretching across Vylbrand’s valuable shipping lanes, with contacts all the way to the shores of the far east, her parents enjoyed perpetuating the image of self-made hard workers from a simple La Noscean berry farm.

This couldn’t be further from the truth, of course, and these ostentatious balls served as the perfect proof. And today, on her fifteenth birthday, Anylissa endured what any other young woman would celebrate - a ‘coming out’ party, where wealth meshed with wealth; where families came from across the lands with their handsome young sons to jockey like whinnying thoroughbreds for her parents’ favor. It provided no small amount of stress to her parents, then, that Lissa preferred to stay out of the limelight, even at her own party.

“Anylissa! Anylissa!” the young debutante recognized the voice as her mother’s; not her real voice, of course, but the voice of the friendly gossip mother wore when chattering with other rich people. Through the gathered crowds of flowing pastel-toned gowns and black-white suits she picked out her mother - wearing the largest and most showy dress of all - accompanied by another woman Lissa recognized at Ms. Constance Grenovre, wealth of Ishgardian stock, tall and clad in muted greys.

And Anylissa sighed when she saw the third party to this procession - with his hair slicked back, a suit too large to be his own and the arrogant folly of youth beaming in a smile, she saw a young man, no doubt several years her senior, his every feature polished and gleaming like some maple end-table. She knew not his name, but before the three arrived she had quite a handle on why she’d be expected to speak with fondness to him.

“Yes, mother,” Lissa spoke; her tone bleeding of false manufacture, airy and light and lily-white, as would be expected of a young, cultured heiress, though so maudlin as to beg parody.

“Darling Anylissa, this is your coming out party, don’t you think you ought to speak with your guests?” her mother said with a small laugh, a laugh Anylissa knew covered a seething discontentment her mother kept hidden beneath the mask of proper appearances.

“What need have I to mingle when you seem ready to do my mingling for me, dear mother?” Lissa responded; sassy, and her mother knew it, but Lissa’s porcelain-angelic tone elicited instead a laugh from those assembled.

“Now, daughter, I’m certain you’re acquainted with Ms. Grenovre,” mother started. Lissa was, indeed, but not for the reasons her mother thought; ever the nosy one, Anylissa had dug into her family’s business records and therein divined that Ms. Grenovre had been responsible for smuggling a fair amount of the family’s wine into Ishgard over the years.

“Certainly, a fine woman,” Lissa smiled and nodded.

“Well, this is her son, Oliver,” mother said softly. “A fine young man.”

“Indeed,” the shrill Ms. Grenovre added. Her son took a step forward, all chest-puffed and bloated and boring.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Sebastis,” Oliver began, and with a kneel Lissa struggled to resist rolling her eyes; she knew what was expected of her, and gods was it so, so boring.

“Oh, certainly, of course, my pleasure as well,” Lissa said, tittering in a manner that her mother - from the look of rage beneath the old woman’s classy veneer - knew to be sarcastic. Lissa offered her hand, and Oliver’s lips smooched irritatingly upon the young lady’s lacy white glove.

“I think you probably have a lot to talk about, with Oliver, don’t you, Anylissa?” her mother interrupted the expected exchange of social currency.

“I had hoped we could speak away from the crowd, m’lady,” Oliver beamed. Not the brightest candle burning in the foyer, Lissa surmised, but she could scarcely expect to find scholars and philosophers and leaders among the stunted and privileged offspring of the elite.

“Oh certainly,” Lissa replied; fortunate was she to have attracted the attention of the grandest dullard in the ballroom, for any brighter a gentleman would’ve noticed the debutante’s wry performance. Anylissa’s eyerolls met with her mother’s scathing glare in silence; then, Oliver took Anylissa’s hand and led her across the tiles, her dress flowing and swaying along with each step, until the cool of La Noscean nightfall met Anylissa’s blushing cheeks.

“Lady Sebastis, I cannot express how grand a pleasure it is to become acquainted with so fetching a woman as yourself,” Oliver said, not so much conversant as rehearsed.

“Did your mother give you that one?” Lissa spoke under her breath, laying her arms atop the stony banister.

“I’m sorry, m’lady?..” Oliver asked.

“Oh, nothing, nothing!” Anylissa laughed precociously.

“Lady Sebastis, my family, we’ve a growing amount of influence among the Ishgardian houses,” Oliver said, and when talk of business began Anylissa could not any quicker feel her heart slow and her eyelids, belabored, begin to dip towards sleep.

“I’m certain that’s fascinating, Oliver,” Anylissa yawned exaggeratedly.

“Mother is certain that a friendship between us could bear exceptional fruit, Lady Sebastis, and I’d be more than honored to take the first step in such an arrangement,” Oliver spoke excitedly.

“Yes, well, that’s quite wonderful, good, and all such things,” Anylissa said, glancing back into the ballroom. “But if we’re to forge a friendship, how-shall-ever we... do it,” she tied herself into awkward noble-speak, giggling, “.. if we are not to seal this new arrangement over the approval of my father?”

“Your father? Oh, certainly,” Oliver responded excitedly. “Shall my father speak to yours, in the morning, then?”

“Oh, no, dearest Sir Oliver,” she said, “we mustn’t tarry, certainly, perhaps fetch my father for me, now, so that he might bless this entanglement?” Oliver’s dim face lit up and he nodded.

“I-indeed, Lady Sebastis, don’t move, I’ll return with him forthrightly,” Oliver sounded almost giddy and rushed back towards the ballroom crowd. Anylissa sighed in relief; as her father had that morning left for business on a boat to Thanalan, the task of finding him would doubtless keep ‘Sir’ Oliver quite occupied for a few moments.

“Your mother really knows how to pick ‘em, doesn’t she?” Anylissa smiled, the voice soothing, even as rough and tumble as it might be. She preferred the rough and tumble.

“I had a feel I’d hear from you tonight, sugar,” Lissa replied, her voice morphed completely; dropping the airy pretexts she adopted for the crowd within the foyer, she felt far more comfortable with the deep and sultry lull now fresh in her throat. She glanced to the rooftops of the Sebastis manor, and set upon a precipice, in his mismatched armor of straps and metal and leather and with his throng of messy black hair tossed wildly around his stubble-dotted face, her coarse angel had arrived to set her free.

“I’d never miss a party like this,” he flippantly retorted, taking a heavy swig from the green glass bottle in his hand.

“I hope you brought enough for me,” Lissa said, a smoky giggle at her throat.

“Oh, the shite in this bottle isn’t made for proper madams, little girl,” her shadow atop the roof joked with a smirk brimming upon his wicked lips.

“It’s a good thing I’m not one, then, isn’t it?” Lissa smoldered. With a quick tug at the corset latched along her midsection, the entire lacy ensemble upon her loosened and fell like a sudden rainshower, revealing that beneath she wore something far more.. appropriate, to her usual tastes. Boots to her thighs, colored a lush purple-red; a black skirt, dangerously short. Lace trimmed in violet, red and black gathered her chest up tight. She pulled her flowing hair back into a messy tail.

“I thought we were going to stay a while and mingle,” her shadow added sarcastically. With deft skill he leapt from his perch, landing quiet as a cat upon the balcony tiles. “After all,” her hero said as he sauntered confidently towards her, “I think your mother’d love to meet me.”

“I’m sure she’d love you, Tallik,” Lissa exclaimed. “We could tell her the story about our last date, remember?”

“You need to be more careful which lunkheads you piss off,” Tallik responded, brushing his long hair back out of his eyes to reveal a darkened spot around his left. “It’s still sore.”

“Come on, handsome, I didn’t doubt you for a second,” Lissa chuckled, grabbing the green bottle out of her shadow’s hand and taking a long chug of its contents.

“Careful, beautiful, I’m not dragging you through the streets again,” Tallik joked, grabbing the bottle back.

“Yes you will,” Lissa said, smiling warmly. “You love me.”

“Let’s not go crazy here.”

“Anylissa! Anylissa!”

“Shit,” Lissa whispered under her breath, blushing at letting so coarse a word slip from her mouth. “That’s mom.”

“I guess we’ll just have to jump for it, won’t we?” Tallik glanced over the edge.

“Tallik, it’s like, two stories!” Lissa exclaimed.

“Relax,” he whispered, dangling a hook and rope from his palm. “Do you think I’d really let you get hurt?”

“Maybe,” Lissa said, blushing bright red. Lissa took one last look at the ballroom and its pretentious laughter and clinking champagne glasses. She couldn’t wait to get away from it all.

[hymn2000]

Freeze - MCU AU Fanfic - C33 (Final)

Previous chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Story synopsis:- When a burst gas main destroys everything and leaves Peter with nothing, the Stark’s take him in. Thrown together by necessity, they then need to try to keep it together and build a new life. Devastated by loss, Peter doesn’t make things easy for them, and Loki and Tony struggle with their own grief and the responsibility of having someone completely dependant on them.

Chapter description:- With a flicker of a promise and in view of our situation

Story warnings/themes: character death, hurt/comfort, trauma, grief, depression/mental health issues, bullying, corporal punishment

Relationships: Frostiron (Loki x Tony) (romantic), Tony and Peter (platonic), Loki and Peter (platonic)

From the same AU as Called To Be A Rock

Chapter 33 - Just Freeze (So We Don’t Have To Start Again)

-

A number of casual meetings with Peter’s social worker was arranged. Tony and Loki saw her first, during the day, and then some home visits were arranged. They all knew there was a process to go through - as much as they wished they could just sign on the dotted line and be done with it.  

Although in a funny mood on the day of the visit, Peter grinned and gave Li Allen a hug when she arrived. They spent a while all talking together, and later, Li turned to Peter.

"It's good to see you smiling. Shall we go and talk privately?"

-

They settled down in Peter's room. Li admired Peter's elephant and the swimming trophy on his cabinet and the framed picture on his bedside table. She sat down beside him on the bed.

"So. Adoption" she said. "Well, I've heard the Stark’s talk, and I've heard you talk with them. Let's talk about it here, just you and me. Let's talk about home"

Peter shrugged awkwardly. "Well, this is home, isn't it? I like it here. I'm getting better. It's all good"

"I know you're doing well at school. I know you're only seeing your therapist once a week now. You look better, too. You're more colourful"

"I've put on weight recently... I've felt better too, mostly. Dad's been really good. He knows what it's like. They've both been really good. There's something different about it though..."

"Different how?"

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. Just different. Kinda like the way they were with each other when they got back from their honeymoon. But obviously not romantically, cos it’s me. Does that make sense?"

"Of course. You know, it'll probably become more prominent after adoption, but having a honeymoon period is common. It's expected with adoption and fostering, especially with older kids. It's just a little bit like a love overflow. I know it's all very exciting and emotional right now"

"... I got sent out of class the other day. Cos I told the girls and I got all funny and giggly and couldn't concentrate"

"What did your teacher say?"

"Well... She came outside to talk to me. She didn't seem too cross. So I told her about the adoption, and then she wasn't cross at all. She hugged me and told me it was great news. And then she said I needed to simmer down"

"You were certainly bubbling over when I arrived today"

"Well, I'm excited" Peter shrugged. “I’m gonna have a proper family”  

"I know. I'm happy for you. But you know it's a process. It'll take time"

Peter nodded.

"I've talked with Loki and Tony on their own too. I know what they want. I know what this means to them. So why don't you tell me what it means to you?"

Peter frowned slightly.

"You can be honest with me. I'm not trying to put a dampener on things, but you're allowed to tell me things you don't like too" 

"But that stuff doesn’t matter. I'm happy now"

"I know, and I'm glad of that. But you could be the happiest person on earth and things still might not be perfect. It's healthy to admit that"

Peter wasn't sure what she was getting at. But he supposed she had to explore all angles. Maybe it was just procedure.

"Ok, but things don't have to be perfect. They never were" Peter said defensively. "They want to adopt me. I want them to adopt me. Why do we have to have an ultimatum? Can't we just sign the papers?"

"You can't rush these things" Li said gently. "I just want to talk"

"What, so you can find out all sorts of secrets and stop it happening?"

"That's not what I mean, Peter" she sighed. "You're not feeling it today, are you? Shall we talk another time?"

Peter nodded. Everything was good now, and he didn't appreciate his social worker coming in and trying to ruin that.

-

Tony sat down with Peter.

“What’s with that face?”

Peter shrugged.

“Come on now, what did we say? No secrets”

“You’re an idiot”

“Don’t talk to your father like that” Loki said, leaning against the door frame. “Li said you weren’t very responsive this evening”

“Well, she kept going on saying I could tell her stuff I don’t like” Peter grumbled. “It was like she wanted things to be bad”

“She was just exploring all angles, kiddo” Tony sighed. “She asked us the same kinda stuff”

Peter looked between them. “What did you say?”

“None of your business” Loki said firmly.

“Look, kid, don’t get so defensive about it. She’ll be back before too long. See if you can talk it out with her. It’s good to talk impartially sometimes”

“You sound like Miss Marns”

“Maybe you should listen to her, then”

-

Li Allen had another visit a few days later. Peter was sleepy, and in a much more mellow mood. They all talked together for a while, and then Li and Peter went off to the reading nook together.

"Sorry I wasn't very nice to you the other day" Peter said ashamedly.

Li squeezed his hand. "It's ok. I was quite abrupt with you. I have policies and procedures to follow, and I do get a little tied up in it sometimes. I'm sorry too"

"It's ok" Peter nodded. "I did think about what you said. And I get it. And you're right, it's not all perfect. We're all kinda ill and dad's busy a lot so we’re not together as much as I want, and other dad is a bit busy, and it's nasty when he gets his flare ups and stuff. It can be kinda scary"

"I can imagine. It must be difficult"

"I mean, I know it's worse for him, but I still don't like it. But he's better than he was... I don't like it when they argue either. They don't argue much, but I think that makes it worse..."

"I understand. It's not very nice when people argue"

"They try to do it away from me. Like, they wait until I'm in bed or they close the door or send me to my room or something. They generally don't argue; they just bicker. They get on too well to argue loads" 

"Well, it’s good to hear that they don't argue much. They’ve always seemed very much in love to me" 

"They are. May always said- um... Well, she always knew"  

"It's ok sweetheart" 

Peter leant against her and sighed sadly. "I still get upset about May a lot... It's easier though, because of how close my dads were to her..." 

"I get it, sweetheart, I really do. I know you've had a really tough time this year"

Peter nodded. "She always left me here when she couldn't look after me. So I think she'd be ok with this. That's the least I could do for her, isn't it? Making sure I'm looked after properly? By people she trusts. Trusted.." Peter sighed again and sat back. "I am happy with the Stark’s, you know. They're definitely my family. It’s weird thinking about May though. Sometimes it’s hard to believe she’s not here anymore. And sometimes when I think about her, it feels like I never really knew her. Like she was part of a different life. You know?" 

"Yes. I understand that. Grief - losing people - it’s a strange thing. I know it can make you feel a bit mixed up” Li said. “Your aunt would want you to be looked after. I didn't know her, but I'm sure she'd be happy to see you're being looked after by her friends, and that you're happy. You're doing so well. I'm proud of you" 

"Thanks... We were all basically a family before the accident anyway. So it kinda feels natural, when I think about it. Being a proper family, legally, like.." 

Li looked at him. "If it's what you want, we can work on it" 

"I know it's not all perfect, like you said. Like the arguments. And I don't like that dad makes me do my homework as soon as I get home from school and won't let me leave the table until I'm finished. That's a bit rubbish. And I don't like getting smacked" 

"Well, I can see why you'd be annoyed about the homework, but I think that's a good thing: I bet you haven't missed a deadline since starting at St Hendricks"

"Well, there was one bit.. but I caught up" 

"There you go, then. I'm sure you can cope with having to do your homework" Li smiled. "Now, about the other thing" 

Peter shifted slightly. "Mm... I don't know what else to say. I don't like getting smacked. That's fair enough, isn't it?" 

"Yes, of course" Li said, but she sounded hesitant. 

"They don't hit me all the time, just sometimes. They don't even hit me hard, not really, but it's still not nice" Peter said defensively. 

"Why are you getting defensive, Peter?" 

"Because I know what social workers are like! You're gonna think, oh, they hit him, and then you're gonna start saying I'm being abused, and-" 

"Have they ever left bruises?" Li interrupted. 

"What? No!" 

"Well then" Li said. 

Peter stared at her. "They'd never hurt me. It’s just... discipline. Ok, so I have had bruises sometimes, but only because we wrestle a lot, play-fighting, you know. But they got bruises too. And it’s not intentional. So it's fair. That's ok, isn't it?" 

"A bit of rough and tumble can be healthy. No one is going to start throwing accusations about because of a skinned elbow" Li said. "You're a kid, and so of course you have to follow certain rules and of course you get disciplined, and of course there's things you aren't allowed to do. But that's just life. Peter, I'm looking at you now, and thinking about how you were when I was first getting to know you. Now, you're happy, you're healthy. You've definitely got yourself back up to a healthy weight. You're doing really well. You fit well here. I've seen you with the Stark’s. Peter, you belong here. That’s what I think. Do you agree?"

"Yeah" Peter nodded. "Since I don't have May any more" 

"I want what's best for you. For all of you" 

"So you support the adoption?" 

"Absolutely" 

- 

Peter climbed onto Loki's lap. 

"Hello sweetheart" Loki put his book down and hugged him. "How are you doing?" 

"I'm ok" Peter said, nuzzling into Loki's chest. "Where's dad?" 

"Just here" Tony's voice sounded from the doorway. He went over and sat beside them, putting his arms round them. "Ok?" 

"Mm" 

"Nervous?" 

Peter nodded. "And excited" 

"Me too" Loki said, stroking his hair gently. "Have you decided about names yet?" 

"Not really. I was thinking about hyphenating it. I don't know if Stark-Parker sounds right" 

"Stark naked" 

"Shut up, Loki" Tony said. "That's never been funny" 

Loki shook his head. "Parker-Stark?" 

"Maybe... I don't know" 

"You don't have to take our name, kiddo" Tony said. 

"I know. But I want to. Kinda. But I want to keep my old name too" 

"You've still got a few days to decide. Even then, we can always go back and change your name later on if you don't come to a decision beforehand. It's not urgent"

“Does this ever feel weird to you?”

“In what way?”

“Well... We’re not like we were when we first met. We’re all so different” Peter said. “I mean, I like it, all this. But I don’t really recognise myself so much any more. Not my old self”

“People change” Loki said. “I don’t recognise my old self either”

“Do you mind?”

Loki shook his head. “No. I’m much happier and safer than my old self. You’re allowed to reinvent yourself”

“Do you mind that I’ve changed?”

“No. We changed as well. We’ve all changed alongside each other”

“It’s just life” Tony said. “I’m not who I used to be either”

Peter paused for a moment. “This year has been really rubbish, hasn’t it?”

Tony laughed slightly. “Yeah, I suppose it has, in a lot of ways. That’s not to say it’s been all bad, though. I mean, you’ve got the bunnies, for one. And then you’re doing really well at school and stuff...”

“I’m still adjusting to all this. I’d gotten so used to the way things were before, y’know? I do feel out of place sometimes. School is a weird one”

“You’re doing so well there, though” Tony said. “What’s making you feel out of place?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s still a different world. Their lives have always been so different. I mean, they even move and speak different”

“What does that matter? You don’t speak anyway” Loki said. 

Tony shot him a look. “Whatever. Anyway, even though you don’t speak at school, you still wobble with some more... upper-class pronunciations sometimes. But that’s probably Loki’s fault too”

Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s just a voice. What’s so important?”

“You have got a good voice though” Peter said. “Flo likes it”

“That little girl has got a serious crush on you” Tony said. 

“Well, can you blame her?” Loki said, pushing his hair back behind his ear. “Even this one fell for me in long-ago times”

Peter shook his head. “That feels like a whole life-time ago. It’s weird to think that I didn’t always see you as a dad”

“It’s weird to think I didn’t always see you as a son”

“Hey, can I ask you something? How did you get to be so good with kids?”

“... What do you mean?”

“Well, y’know. You’re good at the hospital and you’re good with my friends, and you did all that stuff on your sabbatical, like the children’s home and stuff”

“Ah. Well”

“He’s always been good with kids, as long as we’ve been together, anyway” Tony said. “I think it just comes naturally to him. Some people are like that”

Loki nodded. “Lets go with that”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“I’m sure you’ll ask whether I say yes or not”

“Are you... Later, after all the legal stuff and the honeymoon period and all that stuff... Are you gonna have a baby?”

Tony and Loki looked at each other. They smiled slightly and looked back at Peter, giving him a squeeze.

“I doubt it. We’ve already got you. We don’t need anyone else”

“But don’t you want-”

“We just want you”

*

Epilogue 

Peter sat on the floor in the study. Somehow, the dim room with its harsh dark wood furniture didn’t intimidate him any more. He looked up at the frames on the wall above the big leather sofa. The gold frame held Tony and Loki’s marriage certificate, pride of place. It had been unaccompanied for so long, but now had been joined with another frame. This one was silver, and it too held a certificate - Peter’s adoption certificate. 

It still hadn’t quite sunk in that they were now officially family. It hadn’t sunk in when they arrived at the office. It hadn’t sunk in when everything had been signed. It hadn’t sunk in when they’d first read the certificate. Of course, Peter knew it was all official now, but it all felt so weird and unreal - too good to be true. 

But it was there, in black and white (well, more pale-pink and red). Peter, Parent 1, and Parent 2 - Tony and Loki, respectively. They’d hardly stopped crying since they’d seen the certificate. 

The door to the study opened. 

“Hey sweetheart” Loki said, going over to him. “So this is where you disappeared to”

“Yeah. I’ve just been thinking” 

“Have you finished packing yet?”

Peter shook his head. 

“Better get a move on. We’re going in the morning, remember”

Peter nodded. “I’ll get it done soon”

“You’ll get it done now” Loki held a hand out to him.

Peter let himself be helped to his feet.

“So, what’s Scotland like?” he asked as Loki lead him out of the study.

“Oh, you’ll see. We’ve got a handful of other places to go before Scotland though. Say now, have you ever been to France?”

Peter shook his head. “Y’know, Li was right about the honeymoon period”

Loki laughed and kissed his nose. “Get packed. It’ll be another early start”

“It’s starting to give me deja vu” Peter giggled. 

Loki nodded towards the suitcase on Peter’s bedroom floor, and Peter obediently knelt down and started sorting his stuff out properly. Loki stood by, leaning against the cabinet, touching Peter’s elephant gently. He looked at the boy - his boy. He looked at his son, and his son looked at him. 

“Don’t forget your toothbrush”

*

*

*

[ddrkirbyisq]

It's always easier to write about things at the time, than to try and recall previous feelings at a later point.  I guess that's why blogging every day after school always felt like a nice thing...

Most of last week was pretty busy (and even a few days the week before, honestly), mostly with work stuff, though that slowed down towards the end of the week.  I was left this weekend with a weird feeling of not knowing whether I should try to just catch up on some stuff that I need to do (to feel better), or to just try to not really do anything productive at all (to feel better).  When "being productive" and "being not productive" are sometimes two different roads to the same outcome it becomes difficult to evaluate where I should go.  As always, though, balance is usually the right answer, and my mind is quick to course-correct whenever it has strayed too far in one direction or the other.

Yesterday, for example, I didn't really get to check anything substantial off of the todo list at all, so today I ended up making up for it by handling an album release, then working on a song for 4 hours, as well as writing and finishing a letter.  Pretty much any day where I get to put significant progress (in this case, finishing the entire rough draft) towards a song outside of OHC time is usually a good day for me...

Did some "fun but also hard work" things this past week as well.  We had a sushi night where I got to play sushi chef and make 4 different types of nigiri.  Although my raw fish were not quite the ideal shapes/sizes, it was quite an experience trying to slice through them in one clean motion with my knife.  I can see why people use single beveled blades for this stuff -- you can really feel it when your knife isn't up to snuff for this particular task.  Forming the sushi rice itself was much easier this time, knowing that the "water" that you dip your hands into to avoid rice sticking should actually be a mixture of water and rice vinegar...  We also did a hair bleaching + dyeing session, so I'm back to a deep blue color with some purple tips.

I've got a mental "checkup" of sorts coming up and thinking about that was a good chance for me to inventory what has potentially been bothering me in my life, even if those things are not really rearing their ugly heads at me at this moment.  Usually it's the same few things, honestly...stress, people, family, and loss (not necessarily in that order).  Out of all of those loss is the one that is perhaps most pervasive, though it also is not really as much of an issue when I'm busy being distracted by all the other ones.  Thoughts about loss and "abandonment" are of a different nature really, than all of the other ones, and I'm sure that is obvious just from the way that I write about it.

As we settle into September it's important (as always) that we continue to track what makes sense for us to do in terms of our goals for Social Studies.  Listening to an online LGBTQ+ roundtable for the city that I live in, one of the takeaways I got from it was how important it can be to make it obvious in our communities and interactions that we are thinking about inclusivity and to call out gender typing / etc.  This is of course something that I've thought about a lot in the past as it relates to typecasting social dance roles, but there are a number of ways in which we can probably do better about that outside of dance as well.  I've tried to make my pronouns (now listed as "he/him/she/her all OK") present in a few more places as that is something that is quite easy to do.  I admittedly still have to get used to bringing that up when introducing myself, though that is difficult since introducing myself is something that so rarely happens in the first place...but I guess I can always start asking when I meet new people too.  Honestly though, a lot of the time I hardly even ask for people's names when I meet them...bleh

In other news, I've been trying to get a little bit more aware of my sleep cycles -- not just my schedule of sleeping itself, but trying to be a little more conscious of regulating exactly how much sleep I get.  After one too many times of waking up groggy due to getting "the wrong" amount of sleep I figured I should probably try to do a better job of figuring out what the "right" amount of sleep is.  I've figured out for example that I tend to come out of a sleep cycle about 4 hours after sleeping, but I've yet to solidly figure out whether 7.5 or 8 or 9 are good number of hours for me to really feel ready to wake up in the morning (though I can guess).

I've been a little less involved with positive activism than I'd like to be.  Granted, I've been busy, so that is sort of an excuse for it, but I don't think that's really the whole story either.  I think I skimped a bit on research that I should have done in the meantime for more critical activism.  Anyways, right now instead of that I've actually been thinking to sort of sidetrack my efforts and instead look for penpal programs.  I tried writing a letter for the Letters to Strangers project and I may do so again but I felt like it did feel a bit impersonal to be sending a letter into the void.  Granted, these blog posts are perhaps much the same thing, and there are certain times at which perhaps I would be ok with sending a letter to the void.  But it seems perhaps more in line with my sensibilities to send a letter that is actually directed towards someone.  I've joined up with a program that claims to pair writers with nursing home patients/workers to write to, so we'll see if that ends up going anywhere.  Who knows, maybe I will end up finding someone who will actually write back, unlike all of those many people who seem to only exist in the memories of my past.

[b3b3logs-blog]

October 5, 2017

First official entry! Yay.

Alright, October is the month of Halloween. October also means Inktober! I’m going to try to actually to do something every month following Tiffy’s (Cupquake on YT) list of ideas for this month that was posted on her Instagram. Today was the Moon, and I think I did a pretty good job. At least, it came out better than I thought it would. I’ll probably post a pic in the end? Or, like, on Halloween? I dunno. Just know there’ll be a pic of my work here at some point. I would take a pic of the one I did today, but its on a sticky note that I already stuck on the shelf above my desk. I don’t wanna take it off and have the stickiness rub off and not be able to stick it back on... I mean, I could tape it, but I don’t feel like it.

My art isn’t anything special compared to other talented artists, but I do art for fun. And Inktober is a thing to allow artists to improve because they’ll be practicing the whole month. It’ll be cool to see if there was any improvement at the end. But let’s see what tomorrow’s theme is... Mask. Oo, that can be really creative. But I don’t think I’m practiced enough with ink to do something crazy.

Jimin slay me as Lie comes on while I’m writing this. BTS has been crazy lately. Breaking records constantly, meeting other celebrities outside of South Korea, the comeback stage, fan events, etc. They must be so worn out. I mean, we have seen how worn out they are with how Tae could barely hold himself up. :( I know they’re scared of losing popularity because once this high is over, they think all it will be is a rough drop downward. And it’s crazy to think since they literally came from nothing to everything. Yet, they fear falling back down. I hope they would believe in ARMY’s more, but I understand its hard to think positively all the time. I can relate since when things seem so good, I can’t help but think about the what’s gonna happen to balance it out.

But, bad times make the good times all the more precious, so its best to enjoy the good moment while you can and deal with the bad times when they come.

Speaking of bad times, I find myself not feeling happy lately. I guess this is the bad to counter the good time that was last year and my high school senior year. Yes, I’m a college freshie. I go to a college with two friends that I’m not close with. And its hard. I’m away from family and I’m stuck with a “friend” as my roommate. I have no one I can really talk with face to face, which is so important to human beings. Its been researched that people who don’t have strong relationships decrease their life by 50%, which is just like smoking 15 cigs. And I’m feeling it. I feel so lonely, but I don’t know how to socialize.

What I mean is, I’m not strong in the communication department. I can’t just casually go up to someone and say, “Hi, what’s you name?” and keep the conversation going. Nope. I’m not a good conversationalist. If someone wants to have a conversation with me, be ready to keep it going because I can’t for the life of me. And I’m someone who keeps everything bottled up until I feel you’ve proven yourself. XD Until I feel I can trust you. I’m just a closed off person. That’s why I’m writing this to pour out what I keep in.

I also just want to do this so in the future I can look back to when I started this and see how I’ve changed and how lame I was. XD

But, yea. My day today. I have communication class at 8 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today in class the teacher gave us a list of items that we had to determine their importance if we were stranded at sea after. She let us fill it out on our own first, then we had to do it again but with our groups that were assigned for our big project at the end. It was interesting to hear what really mattered and what other people knew. And then at the end, the teachers made us tally our scores (both out individual and group) against a list that was filled out by the Coast Guard. Chances of survival were way better with the group list than the individual. So, people tend to get better results with a group rather than alone, which makes sense since everyone is different and has different experiences and knowledge. Then the teachers talked about the difference between a team and a group, roles in groups (good and bad), what makes a good group, etc.

Then class ended. I went back to my dorm. This is usually the time when I do exercise since I don’t want to gain crazy pounds and also my roommate is out for her class so I don’t have to worry about her. (Aw, shit. Here come Tae with Stigma.) Usually, I do a little muslce workout like pushups and squats and crunches and something else I do for my calves but I don’t know what they’re called. I also try and learn BTS’s choreo. However, my roommate returned, so I quickly shut off my phone, which I was using to follow a vid on DNA’s choreo, and sat at my desk. I was sweating, but I don’t know if my roommate actually noticed. XD (Aye, Cab’s “Endlessly”~) Then I did hw for algebra, which I have on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays along with music appreciation. Had lunch, which was a usual sandwich with ham, cheese, lettuce, and mayo.

Omg, there’s an ice cream machine in my school’s cafeteria that had been out of order since the beginning of this quarter (yes, my school goes by quarter and not semester) and it’s finally working. Or, at least half of it is. So there’s ice cream.

Anyway, then I watched one of my fav cover artist’s on YT (Kuraiinu) unbox the Love Yourself albums, all 4. Tho, he didn’t really show everything, just the cards he got and the posters, which is fine.

Then, I went to my first year experience class, which I don’t know if every university does? Its just a class to get freshmen acquainted with the school and all its inner workers. And to try and get you to make friends, which I have not been successful at so this course is clearly a failure. Anyway, we had a speaker come in, one of the school’s counselors, and he talked about succeeding in college and STD’s and drinking, etc. It was a semi-interesting presentation.

Then I headed back to my dorm to chill and watch more YT. Then had dinner, where the cafeteria always seems to be full now instead of at lunch which is now empty? Then, I finally sat down and studied for my music app. test/exam that’s tomorrow. I think I won’t fail.

And now I finish this entry while listening to BTS’s Paldogangson. Yup. That’s it for today, I guess. Oh, and my roommate snores and our beds are only a few inches away from each other... It’s great...

As my friend says: Stand talent. Stan Monsta X.

The video Jooheon and Shownu released today was great. HBD to Honey~ Tho it passed by now XD

[dudence-blog]

Dear Dudence for 5 October 2017

It’s the start of the ALDS and the Astros are up on the Red Sox 8-2 in the top of the 9th.  To celebrate this it’s time to enjoy a St. Arnold’s and get on to answering the people seeking help from Prudence!

My 15-year-old daughter is a freshman in high school and has her first serious boyfriend. They are both star athletes, honor students, nondrinkers, and really nice kids. I love it that they are starting this new adventure in the dating scene together. He is a year older than she is and occasionally drives her around town. He is black, and she is white. What, if anything, should I say to her about traffic stops?

Dear Concerned Mom, Newdie did a great job informing us of the risks inherent to be a black person in America.  I think we are all owe a debt of gratitude to the late 20s white woman for explaining to us about the horrors of institutional racism. While we are grateful for her enlightening point of view based on her extensive experience, she did a pretty damn poor job of answering the question you asked.  What you’re asking about isn’t really dating advice; it is advice for situations across a wide spectrum of activities.  You’re not being a “crazy white mom” to talk with your child (who will soon be driving age herself) about how to react when, not if, she is stopped by the police.  It has nothing to do with you being worried that her boyfriend is going to get profiled, it has to do with the fact if you drive long enough you’re going to get stopped.  When stopped, whether as the driver or passenger, tell her to remain calm, be polite, keep your hands visible, and don’t interfere with the police.  Follow the instructions from the officer, and if she receives conflicting instructions stop and ask for clarification.  Most importantly try not to make the situation worse.  A good thing to keep in mind is that she is dealing with someone is one of the few people society has given the authority to initiate the use of force, including lethal force.  Even if the police are completely in the wrong, they pulled her boyfriend over because he’s black and they are being awful people abusing their authority on the street while stopped is not the place where the problem can be addressed.  Heck, it might not be able to be addressed elsewhere because life just ain’t fair, but it certainly can’t be addressed there at the point of friction.  The police officer is not going to hear a teenage girl tell him “you are, like, totally wrong to be stopping him and you’re only stopping him because he’s black!” and respond with “You know what Kindra, you’re right.  I was mistaken, here is your license sir.  Please drive safely.”  Have the conversation with your daughter about how, because of her boyfriend’s race, it is possible he’s going to be unjustly targeted by police.  That it’s “not okay” for that to happen, and that you and your family, as decent people want to do everything you can to combat that attitude.  Heck, if you want to have a conversation with your daughter about the wider issues of racism in society, how her privilege as the child of wealthy parents living in an upper class neighborhood means she’s the cause of all of society’s ills, knock yourself out.  But that is separate from the issue of “what to do if you’ve just been stopped by police”.

My husband and I have been preparing to adopt a baby from “Anita” for six months. We’ve paid Anita’s medical bills and an allowance so Anita didn’t have to work too hard during her final trimester. She’s due in six weeks, and we discovered by accident that at some point she’d changed her mind. Anita will be keeping her baby. It’s a devastating but not unexpected loss. My husband and I wish Anita well, because we want her baby to succeed, but we also want to sever our relationship with her.

Dear Paying for Baby, that is quite the gut-punch.  Anita’s mother can lob all the accusations she wants, that doesn’t mean she’s correct.  Regardless of whether you and your husband could afford to keep financing Anita’s pregnancy while pursuing another adoption option, it wouldn’t be heartless for you to stop.  Anita and your family had an agreement and she has reneged on her end of the agreement.  You’re under no obligation to continue and don’t let BadPru’s habit of ignoring information you provide in your letter guilt you into considering something against your short and long term interests..  If you were working with a lawyer I’d recommend speaking with them about terminating your support, and if you’re not working with one I’d recommend getting one who’s experienced in family law and adoption.  As for BadPru’s assumption you’re working either independently or with a disreputable agency, you can tell her to pound sand.  It’s not like “mother putting baby up for adoption changes her mind” is a wholly unheard of event within “reputable” adoption services.

I have a weird etiquette question: I was in an abusive marriage for a decade, and after we split, I had to distance myself from both my social and professional circles because we worked in the same industry. I’m very healthy and happy now. Recently, I’ve started to fold a few previous connections back into my life. Nobody has any idea how bad the abuse was, or why we divorced, and I still have to see my ex on occasion.

Dear No Polite Way to Say This, I’m not sure which is the weird etiquette part.  Is it where you’re not sure how much you want to reveal about the circumstances of your divorce or is it the part where you think people want to hear the details of the circumstances of your divorce?  That you’re asking about “etiquette” makes me think you’re looking for advice when dealing with more casual acquaintances; co-workers, peers within the industry, etc.  “Oh you know Elaine too?  Yes, we were married, but we divorced a few years ago,” for most people standing around at an industry convention that would be enough information.  If you want to invite follow-up questions then say it wasn’t amicable.  If we’re talking about a more intimate relationship; say a friend who knows the both of you, then it’s really going to be limited to what you’re comfortable discussing.  “Yes, Elaine and I had a very troubled marriage, it got really bad towards the end and I left.”  I will advise you that if you get into discussing your spouse’s abuse it’s going to get back to them and you’re going to open-up a whole new realm of social-etiquette fun.  Counter-accusations, justifications, side-choosing, etc.  While Newdie thinks it isn’t the case some people will be put off by your revealing the unpleasant details of your marriage, Newdie has a well-established history of being shockingly ignorant of how people can interact in a work environment (seriously, the new hire wanting a window view is a reasonable idea?!!?).  There are people in your professional and casual social circles who will be put-off by your “over-sharing”.  It’s going to put some people in a position where they feel obligated to distance themselves from either your ex or you. ��It’s not fair, it’s probably not how it should be, but the world doesn’t deal in “should”.  I’m glad you’re doing well now and I wish you the best of luck in retaking some of those parts of your life.

I’ve known my friend “B” for around five years. We met as students and had a wonderful companionship through school and still remain close. The only problem is her escalating interest in the cast of a television show, particularly one male actor. It began with a minor interest in the show while we were students. She was going through a rough time personally and began watching; over the years, she has become so obsessed with one of the lead actors that she now spends thousands of dollars to go to conventions across the country, attends related events, and generally finds reasons to be in his neighborhood. They have “coincidentally” met several times, and he was rude to her on multiple occasions. This is only a fraction of what B has done to research, stalk, and meet this actor, who is twice her age. He now recognizes her.

Dear Caught Up in Fandom, a dude dressing up as a surprisingly convincing Super Girl might be caught up in fandom.  Your friend blew past that and went off the cliff into “creepy shrine” territory a while ago.  Your friend has a problem, and today I learned there is a whole spectrum of problems dealing with people who become obsessed with a celebrity.  As for your actual question, I’m not a fan of ghosting.  There are situations where it’s the least bad option, but people generally deserve to the respect that comes from saying “hey, it’s been fun but we’re just after different things; you’re not interesting, etc”.  Other friends have told B that her behavior is disturbing and driving them away, so it’s not like she hasn’t been made aware how people people.  Maybe she’s not putting 1 and 1 together, but she probably is.  I think you should tell your friend what her actions have been doing to you and why you’re going to cut her out of your life.  If you want to leave the line open to reconnect in the future that’s your prerogative.

I have been with my husband for five years. He is attentive, kind, thoughtful, and attractive, which are all qualities that make him appealing to other women. Four years ago he cheated on me, and I found out almost immediately after the affair started. He showed remorse, we went to counseling, and I decided to stay with him. Since the affair, I check his Facebook, emails, phone calls, and texts regularly. It’s obviously insane and has become somewhat of an obsession. I have attempted counseling but this hasn’t stopped or curbed my snooping. I am just waiting to catch him again and feel that it’s only a matter of time before he strays.

Dear Husband Monitor, you should probably attempt counseling again.  Try a different therapist.  I don’t know what, if anything, there is about you which screams “cheat on me”.  To say “because you believe they will and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy” is tempting, but unfair and not very helpful.  Long-term relationships do end, and the infidelity at the end of your previous relationships might have been a symptom rather than a cause.  Eventually you’re going to need to have a talk with your husband about your feelings here.  You’re not clear about whether he’s aware you’re checking up on him, so I’m going to assume he isn’t.  That is probably going to be an unhappy conversation because it involves a pretty significant breach of trust (whether it is as bad as cheating in a marriage is a debate I’ll leave to the philosophers).  You’re going to need to talk with him about your feelings, why you are so anxious and suspicious, and whether it is reasonable.  Your snooping on him doesn’t seem to be helping you, and you don’t refer to anything other than your history as to why he will eventually stray.  It might be time to let him out of the doghouse, and that forgiveness might have the added benefit of giving yourself the permission to trust again.  I know how hard it can be to put your trust and faith into someone, and how much, much harder it is to restore those feelings after they’ve been betrayed.  But holding on to that isn’t doing you any good.  

I am a casual Spanish speaker—I can understand a good bit of what I hear and read, but have more difficulty speaking it. My mom, bless her, thinks I am fluent. Normally, this isn’t a problem. She might call sometimes with a question about something she heard on TV or about something on a menu, but that’s it. Recently though, something happened that made me uncomfortable. She had some furniture delivered, and the men who dropped it off spoke Spanish. She wanted me to give them instructions in Spanish, and I told her it wasn’t necessary, as it was obvious they also spoke English.

Dear Not Your Translator, after you follow NuPru’s advice and lecture your mother about her racism, then delve into just what drove her to those thoughts, you should grab a cup of hot chocolate and talk about health insurance.  You don’t need to be racist to be irrational.  Maybe your mom is uber racist, maybe she is just normally racist or maybe she isn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact it can be off-putting to be left outside a conversation happening in front of you because you don’t sprich die sprach.  There’s also nothing wrong with you informing her you’re not comfortable eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation.  Heck, go ahead and let her know you think it’s rude for her to ask you to do so.  But you can set your boundaries while also assuaging her concerns; let her know that if you do hear anything untoward you’ll address it and then don’t.  She gets what she wants: she’s comforted by knowing you’re listening in.  You get what you want: you’re not having to listen in.  The work crew gets what they want: to do their job while talking about the ignorant woman and he dumbass child.  It’s a Win-Win-Win!

[fredrichards91]

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Can You Stop A Divorce Once It Has Been Filed

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How To Avoid Divorce In Canada

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