#i saw somebody else point out that they see candy rose as rose at her worst

[tunas-spriting]

well most importantly to me, the panel art of the latest upd8 was absolutely spectacular!!!!

[sophie-writings]

☁️ Synopsis: Bakugou just might have the biggest tiniest crush on you, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it to anyone — or even himself. Inspired by: “I won’t say (I’m in love)” from Hercules.

☁️ Character: Katsuki Bakugou 

☁️ Type: Scenario. Pure fluff and in denial Bakugou.

☁️ Warning: Light cursing. 

☁️ Note: This is the first long fic I’m doing for this blog, so i guess this is a especial moment? As promised, the Bnha x Disney songs is here! Kirishima’s next on the list, can you guess which song was chosen? Tip: lights.

"I'm not saying it!" Bakugou says, glaring daggers at his best friend before huffing and averting his gaze to the door he so desperately wanted to reach.

"Oh, c'mon Bakugou!" Insisted Kirishima, still blocking the blond's way. "You like her ever since that day."

That was undoubtedly true, even though Bakugou wouldn't admit it to himself or the others. 

You both first met on your first day at UA, and you were just another classmate he didn't really pay attention to. You tried to be friendly with Bakugou at first, just like you were with the rest of your classmates, but the explosive boy didn't seem to be open to the idea of friendships, so you eventually gave up. If you didn't cross his way — which you usually didn't, no words were exchanged.

But that changed with time, after the fateful day Bakugou was rescued from the league of villains.

You were never really close to him, but the guilt of not being able to help your fellow classmate was eating you inside out, especially because you were so close to grabbing his hand when he was taken. So you joined the rescue team alongside Kirishima and the rest. 

The smile you had on your face once he was safe and the hug he found himself unable to run away from made his heart beat faster than ever before.

"And you're terrible at hiding it too, dude." Teased Kaminari, who was the first to notice the sudden change in Bakugou's behavior whenever he was around you. “Why deny it?”

That too was true.

Bakugou found it harder than ever before to maintain his cool when you were around. It was like his already sweaty palms got sweatier whenever you got too close to him, he could feel his heart pound against his ribcage and wondered if his heartbeat as always been this loud and if people can hear it too. He found himself sighing more and getting lost in thought while staring at you.

It was like the stupid third-grade crush he had all over again, only that this time it didn't last a week. 

"I mean, how could he hide it? They're so pretty!" Chirped in Mina getting dangerously close to his face, but this time he couldn't even shove his pink friend away because his mind was wandering elsewhere.

You were really pretty, no one could go against that. 

You couldn't blame Bakugou for staring at you for a second too long. Who wouldn't? 

He eventually caught himself noticing small details he never did before.

Like the way your eyes twinkled when you ate your favorite meal during lunch, or how you would scrunch up your nose when eating sore candy. Sometimes he couldn't help but smile whenever your tongue would stick out of your mouth when you were doing difficult math exercises. Only to realize he's been smiling at you for the past thirty seconds and bury his face in his hands in frustration.

Oh God, he's really seeing you through rose-colored lenses and it was so obvious. 

"Just admit it." Now it was Sero's turn to intercept. "You got it bad." The raven-haired boy snickered and nudged his friend's side with his elbow, causing Bakugou to huff in annoyance.

"Okay, let's say I have this small interest on them — which I fucking don't!" He adds before the rest of the group could use it against him. "Why does it matter?" 

He really couldn't see what confessing his very minor interest in you would do. Okay, he might get really nervous when you're around, recognize your scent if you walk into a room, and even let you touch him more than anyone else without yelling or huffing, but so what? 

"You confess and tell them how you feel?" Kirishima said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, earning a "are you fucking serious?" look from Bakugou back. “Just give in, you’re in love!”

“Are you crazy? In love? Me?”

"Confess? Really Kirishima?" Mina asked, and pointed at Bakugou who was still staring at Kirishima as if he had grown a second head. "This guy can't even admit to himself he has a crush on them." "I don't-"

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. 

The sudden notifications coming from everyone's phone expect for Bakugou's was enough to stop the ensuing argument. The blond cursed under his breath while the rest checked their phone and cooed at whatever they were looking at.

"What the fuck is so damn interesting?" He asked crossing his arms and peering over Kirishima's shoulder.

His eyed widened once he caught a glance of the image and he snatched Kirishima's phone from his hand to get a better look at it.

He wished his eyes were deceiving him because there you were sitting next to a guy he has never seen before. The guy's arm was over your shoulder and you were smiling — the smile he really liked — to the camera.

"Who the fuck is this guy?" He literally spat. "Why didn't I get this picture?"

"Bakugou, you’d leave the group chat every time I tried to add you." Kaminari deadpanned. "They send pictures like this all the time." 

"You should've added me again then!" He snapped back before swiping to see the rest of the pictures you sent to the group chat.

You really sent a lot of them. Some smiling, others cutely pouting at the camera, and some with the other classmates. 

His eyes widened when he realized you sent a picture of you pouting and pointing to him in the background. The caption read "grumpy Bakugou won't join us for game night :(" He could feel his face get warmer after knowing you actually realized he was missing during the group activities. He swiped again and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw another picture of you and this mystery guy. 

"Okay, that's enough of staring for today." Kirishima said, taking his phone back from Bakugou's grasp. 

"Who's that guy?" Bakugou was enraged, there was no other way to describe it. Why did you have so many pictures with the same guy? Why has he never heard of him before? And why did he care so much?

"Take a chill pill dude." Kaminari sighed. "That's just her cousin, he visited one and everything, don't you remember? — oh you were sleeping." Kaminari words felt like annoying prickles to Bakugou and he was getting really tired of his friend's nuances.

"But you see that irritable feeling you had when you saw them with another person? That's called jealousy." Mina sang. "And if you don't confess soon, they'll find someone to actually date." 

"They wouldn't do that."

"Why not? They're single" She continued. "And not to mention, super attractive!" Added Sero. 

"Shit..." Bakugou muttered and sat down on Kirishima's bed.

He was in it deep, his friends were right. But having a crush this big was just something he never imagined would happen so soon in his hero-in-training life. He didn't want to be slowed down by things like love, but it's not like you would slow him down right? You were strong and capable, and maybe, just maybe, you could even help him reach new height, right?

Oh, there he goes again. He really can't stop his brain from making up scenarios in his head and finding an answer every time he comes up with a reason why he shouldn't have a crush on you. 

"Okay..." He whispered, loud enough for his friends to hear and stare down at him. "I might have a little crush on them." 

"I fuckING KNEW IT-" Kaminari couldn't even finish his sentence because Bakugou sent a pillow flying to his face, successfully throwing him off balance. 

The rest of the group simply ignored Kaminari's complaints and focused on Bakugou's speech.

"I... I don't want to see them with somebody else."

"Then confess! Tell them you like them." Cheered Mina.

"Do I really need to say it out loud?" He averts his gaze. Bakugou really wasn't the one to turn down a challenge, but the risk of rejection seemed too high to his liking.

"How else would you say it?" Asked Sero, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"I don't know! This is my first time doing something like this, how am I supposed to know?!" He says in frustation, grabbing a handful of his hair. 

"First say it out loud! Just admit to yourself first." Said Kirishima, sitting next to his best friend while patting his back as a sort of comfort. He could realize that while he was really book smart and strategic, he was still emotionally dumb. "Just say it."

"Okay, whatever." He breathed in and out, before opening his eyes in determination. "I like — fuck, this is stupid."

"Just say it, OH MY GOD." Even chill Sero was losing his temper.

"OKAY FUCK I LIKE THEM OKAY?!" The whole room fell silent with Bakugou's sudden burst and his friends could only stare at him. They were used to Bakugou's outbursts of rage since they happened almost daily, but they rarely came accompanied by red blush across his cheeks. 

"Great!" Kirishima was the first one to break the silence as he got up and grabbed his best friend by the arm, pulling him up with him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Asks Bakugou once he's on his feet again. 

"Now you go out there and tell them that."

"Right now?! Are you crazy?" Bakugou backs up. Oh hell no, he couldn't confess yet. Just admitting it to himself and his close group os friends was too much for the day, he didn't know he could handle confessing to you right now. 

"Do you want someone else to beat you to it?" Asked Mina while typing away on her phone.

"Of course not, I said that alre-" Before he could end his sentence, Mina showed his her phone, which had a thread of texts between you and her, asking you to meet her outside in five minutes. "Then go Bakugou."

Bakugou cursed to himself before opening the door that led out of Kirishima's room. "You're all screwed when I get back." He states before slamming the door behind him.

"Your love muses will be waiting." Was the last thing he heard before starting this walk.

Bakugou mind races as he walks towards the spot he was supposed to meet you, opting to take the stair so he had more time to think. Admitting he had a crush on you to the world was hard enough, but confessing seemed like a whole ‘nother level. He couldn't help but think about all the possible negative outcomes that could come out of this decision. 

“Fuck... what am I doing?”

Maybe things were good as they were right? Sure, he couldn't hold your hand and kiss you like he has been picturing the past few days, but at least you talked to him and made the effort to be in his life. What if after he confessed his dumb feelings to you, you just straight up rejected him and things between both of you get awkward? How was he going to handle that?

"Bakugou?" 

The familiar voice was enough to pull him out of the trance-like state he was in. He was so deep in thought he didn't even realize that he had reached the meeting spot and you were there waiting already. 

Damn, did he make you wait? Maybe he should've taken the lift, I mean, summer's coming but it was still spring and maybe you're feeling cold. Oh shoot, you're staring at him, maybe he should answer right?

"Hey..."

You smiled realizing it was really Bakugou and what your eyes weren't playing games with you. Ever since you've realized that the admiration you felt towards Bakugou was only platonic and that you had a big fat crush on the hot-headed boy, every single attitude he had seemed to mean something more. His long stares, the way he would get nervous when you were around and the oh so light smile he would send your away would make your heart flutter and send you back to your room overthinking his actions. 

"I thought Mina was supposed to meet me here?" You asked, still glad it was the blond who came over to meet you. 

"Yeah..." Bakugou couldn't concentrate on the matter at hand. How could he when you looked so good just by standing there? You were already on your summer pajamas and he couldn't help but blush at the sight of the moon shining on your skin. " I actually need to tell you something."

"Ah, sure! I'm all ears" You tried your best to sound as confident as possible, but the truth is, doing so is hard when you have your crush standing in front of you. Everything about the situation screamed "cliche rom-com confession scene" to you and you didn't know if your increasing heartbeat was because you wanted it to be exactly that, or because you were afraid he was just going to ask for your English notes. 

"Look, this is my first time doing something like this, so if I fuck it up just bear with me for a second okay?" 

God, he must be sounding so stupid. So weak. So vulnerable. So not him.

But then again, this wasn't something he would normally do. Heck, his original plan was to graduate without even having the need to make friends or get into a relationship. He just wanted to be the best, but there he was. He had a small group of friends and was even considering bettering his relationship with Deku.

Nothing like that was ever part of his plans but they happened. And he sure as hell wasn't backing away now. 

"I think I like you, no fuck it, I do like you!" He said staring at you dead in the eyes. "I didn't want to admit it at first but the truth is that... ever since that day, you helped shitty hair and the others, I've felt a different way towards you, and if you don't feel the same way then-" "No."

"What?" Bakugou stopped on his tracks and he could feel all the air getting sucked from his lungs.

"Oh Gosh, that sounded really bad." You say panicking. "I meant, no don't say that because... I really like you too Bakugou!"

Everything about the situation felt unreal.

From the way his words left his mouth to the fact that you were hugging him at the moment, breathing in his caramel aroma, making you melt to his touch. All of those nights overthinking about his actions and imagining how things could go if only you had to courage to confess would cease to exist, and now you would actually live every single scenario you made up in your head.

Bakugou was only glad he listened to his friends and told you how he felt. Not that he would tell them that, he sure wouldn't. And he also wouldn't forgive the fact that they were spying on you at the moment, but he could deal with that later.

Now he wanted to find out if your lips were as sweet as he imagined.

[lyssismagical]

Okay so I don't have a prompt from, like, a list? But: either Peter or Harley taking their younger sister trick-or-treating and ending up getting scared by somebody? Idk it's not a great prompt but

I kinda took this prompt on a little adventure but here we are (late as always lmao)

This is also incredibly AU so oops ,,,

*

Harley’s incredibly reluctant when his mom shows him the costumes she picked out for them. He would do pretty much anything for his siblings, but this was a little over the top.

Apparently, Abbie had begged to do a group costume this year, and they’d decided on Winnie the Pooh.

Jonah, the second youngest of the Keener’s at three, got to be Winnie the Pooh, and Harley would be lying if he said he wasn’t the cutest little kid on the planet.

Dayton’s seven and he chose Tigger.

Piglet went to Aspen, the middle child at 10 years old.

Abbie claimed Eeyore before Harley could.

Leaving Harley as Kanga, and the baby of the family, Bentley, as Roo.

It’s embarrassing, walking around his hometown dressed as Kangaroo with his baby sister in his pouch, the train of Keener’s following along behind him.

The anxiety is a lot higher than the shame, though. With five children to look after singlehandedly, Harley feels like he’s going to lose his mind, counting them every few minutes to make sure they haven’t lose anybody.

Rose Hill’s generally a pretty safe town. It’s small enough that everyone knows everyone. If any of these people saw one of the Keeners in danger, they’d be sure to stop it. Harley trusts the people in the town.

But Rose Hill’s also a popular trick or treating spot. Everyone in neighboring towns come to theirs because nearly every house will have candy or chocolate available. They always go all out. So there’s a lot of strangers about.

“C’mon! It’s Tay’s house!” Aspen shouts, racing ahead, hand linked with Dayton’s. “She said she’d have special treats for us!”

“Aspen!” Harley chastises with no results. Abbie shakes her head, holding onto Jonah’s hand. The pair system generally works alright but leaving the two middle kids together doesn’t work out quite as well as Harley was hoping for. He tries to pick up the pace to catch up, but Bentley is proving to be a difficult addition to their team.

He loses sight of Aspen suddenly, lost to the groups of people on the streets. He grabs Jonah from Abbie. “Go catch up to the others and then wait at Tay’s until I get to you.”

Abbie jogs off, bag of candy tossed over her shoulder. Jonah whines pitifully at being left behind and Harley’s forced to lift him into his arms to soothe him.

Now saddled with two kids and three bags of candy, Harley struggles to keep his cool.

“Help!”

Harley turns, fear chilling him to his very bones. It could be one of his kids, voice high and scared.

But when he sees the source of the voice, it’s a girl he doesn’t recognize, probably eight or nine years old, eyes wide and a deep shade of brown.

“Everythin’ okay?” Harley asks, shifting Jonah’s weight to lean down to her height.

She shakes her head, mouth settling into a pout. “I can’t find my brother.”

“Alright, honey, I’ll help you out. Can I guess he’s dressed as Peter Pan?”

The girl nods. She’s dressed as Tinkerbell, a little green dress and wings and the iconic green shoes with white balls on the ends. “I got scared but I can’t find him anymore.”

“Okay, well, I’m Harley and this is Jonah and Bentley. What’s your name?”

“Morgan. And my brother is Peter.”

Bentley babbles wordlessly from Harley’s kangaroo pouch and Jonah’s fist curls into Harley’s hair.

“Where did you see him last?” Harley asks. He can’t help looking over his shoulder, still worried about Abbie, Aspen, and Dayton. “Do you remember?”

She nods. “I’m not allowed to tell you. It’s a secret.”

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s happening.”

She leans in closer, eyes so wide and earnest, voice dropping into a stage-whisper. “He’s Spider-Man. He saw someone who needed help and he told me to stay put but I got scared.”

“Spider-Man? I thought he was Peter Pan?”

“No, he’s Spider-Man, for real. My daddy is Iron Man.” Morgan rolls her eyes like Harley’s silly for thinking otherwise.

Instead of continuing to argue, Harley just accepts this and moves on. “Alright, well now that you’ve told me that, we can retrace your steps and find your brother, yeah?”

She nods, lighting up in a smile.

“First,” Harley says, unable to stop the constant waves of fear, “Let’s go grab my other siblings, yeah? And then you can lead the way.”

She grabs onto Harley’s tail, keeping herself attached as he leads the way, not having a hand available for her.

They get to Tay’s driveway, waving the three kids over.

“What’s up?” Abbie asks, frowning at Morgan. “I know there’s a lot of Keener kids to remember, but I think I would recognize this one.”

“She can’t find her brother, so we’re going to help out.”

Dayton frowns, shaking his bag of candy. “But there’s still a lot of houses to hit.”

“We can go later. First, we’re helping Morgan.”

He shifts Jonah again, weighed down by everything. Bentley babbles some more. Morgan looks like she might cry if Harley doesn’t find her brother soon. Dayton and Aspen look a few seconds away from throwing twin tantrums.

“Alright,” Harley says, taking a deep breath. “Abbie, keep Dayton and Aspen together and following. No running off this time. Morgan, you’re leading the way. You can all have one piece of candy before we go.”

He gets a lollipop for both kids and one for Morgan too, at least it’ll keep them occupied for a little bit. And then he makes sure everyone’s good before they start off again, following Morgan’s lead.

At the very least, she seems to know where she’s going, but she seems nervous, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure Harley’s still there.

Harley feels like he might cry, shoulders aching and back throbbing in pain as Jonah falls asleep against his shoulder and Bentley squirms against his stomach. And at one point, Dayton starts complaining about his feet hurting, so Harley passes off his bag of candy to Abbie, and lifts Dayton up onto his shoulders, making sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt Jonah.

“I was standing right here,” Morgan finally says, eyes sparkling. “Peter went down that road and left me here.”

Harley nods, looking around. “Did he say he’d come back to meet you here?”

She nods.

“Alright, I guess, let’s wait and see if he shows up. He’ll know you’re waiting here for him. In the meantime, Abbie…”

Abbie nods, already understanding what he’s asking of her. She puts the candy bags down. “I’ve got my phone on me and I’ll just check down this road. I’ll be twenty minutes max.”

“Be safe please. Mom would kill me if I lost you.”

She takes off and Aspen sits down against the brick wall with Morgan. Harley doesn’t want to wake up Jonah and he can’t get Dayton down without Abbie’s help so he just leans against the brick wall and hopes it won’t take long or else his shoulders will fall off.

And then, as though the universe is out to get him, Bentley starts crying.

He can’t hold Bentley, his only ability is to try to soothe her with words.

Morgan’s eyes go wide, like she might cry too. And Harley doesn’t think she could deal with that right now.

“Spider-Man’s not going to save you now.”

Harley turns quickly, pushing himself in front of Morgan. This is probably what scared her earlier. “Listen, man, we don’t want any trouble.”

He steps out of the shadows and Bentley cries harder. The man’s holding a gun, pointing it right at Harley.

“Spider-Man hurt my business. He ruined my life. I just want the girl.”

Harley quickly slides Jonah onto the ground, leaving him with Aspen, and with his hands free, he can pull Dayton onto the ground as well.

Abbie rounds the corner and she freezes, staring at them. “What- Harley?”

“Abbie, take Bentley,” Harley orders, keeping his hands lifted and eyes on the man. “We don’t want any trouble, okay?”

As soon as Bentley’s safe, Harley takes another step forward, putting as much space between the kids and the man as possible.

Behind him, not only is Bentley crying, but it sounds like Jonah, Morgan, and Aspen are as well.

“If you don’t move, I’ll kill you too.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you get at any of them. I can’t. Just put down the gun and we won’t have any problems, alright?”

The gunman flicks off the trigger and Abbie shouts wordlessly, sitting against the brick wall, holding all the kids with her.

Harley keeps his hands raised in surrender. “Please, don’t do this. They’re just kids.”

“Move or I shoot.”

Harley’s hands are shaking, fear running his blood cold. But he doesn’t move.

And then, swinging down from a nearby rooftop, is Peter Pan.

Peter Pan knocks the man to the side, hat barely staying on his head, and webs the gun to the bricks, too high for anyone to grab. The man doesn’t have much fight left to give, and Peter Pan webs him to the ground pretty quickly.

As soon as he does, he spins around, eyes darting until he sees Morgan.

“Oh thank fuck,” he breathes, racing over and lifting Morgan into a tight hug. “You’re okay. You were gone and I was thinking the worst. Christ, I was so scared. Don’t do that to me.”

Harley turns, falling to his knees and immediately checking to make sure everything’s alright.

“Is everyone okay? Nobody’s hurt?”

Abbie shakes her head. “We’re okay. Don’t fucking do that, though. You’re so stupid.”

Harley takes Bentley back, hugging her and pressing a kiss to her forehead in an attempt to soothe her. He gets out some more candy for Dayton and Aspen, hoping it’ll be enough to keep them calm.

“Hey, Morgan said you saved her.”

Harley looks up at Peter Pan. “I’ve got five younger siblings. I know what it’s like.”

“This is different. You could’ve let him take her to save yourself and your siblings, but you didn’t. You protected her.”

“It’s not a big deal. You saved me from getting shot, so we’re even.” Harley shrugs, offering a little smile. “Do you live around here?”

Morgan shakes her head. “We drove super long to get here.”

“Not super long, just a bit. We live nearby. Her parents needed to get out of the spotlight and this is what they came up with.”

“Come on then, I live just a few blocks from here-”

Aspen frowns, voice going high and whiny. “We’re not going to keep trick or treating?”

“You really want to-”

“Please!” All of them shout, even Morgan.

Harley sighs harshly, but Peter shrugs. “Yeah, alright, we could do a couple more houses, huh, Harley?”

Peter takes Dayton and Morgan, Abbie takes Aspen, and Harley’s left with Jonah and Bentley. Harley introduces Peter to all of them.

It’s so much easier to have another ‘adult’ with him to watch the kids, even if there’s an extra kid to account for. They trick or treat at another three blocks worth of houses before calling it a day and heading back to the Keener Household.

Harley puts Jonah, Bentley, and Dayton to bed. It’s late enough as is, before he sets Abbie, Morgan, and Aspen up to watch a movie.

And then, he takes Peter into the kitchen.

“You hungry? Thirsty? Anything I can do for you?”

Peter laughs, shaking his head. “Take off the Host Hat.”

Harley turns from the fridge and nods before getting distracted. It’s not his fault, really, it’s just that Peter’s wearing tights and a very definingly tight green shirt with a belt cinched around his small waist. He’s got little freckles drawn onto his cheeks and black eyeliner that makes his doe eyes look so pretty.

He probably looks so silly dressed as a kangaroo in comparison.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you did today, Harley. If it weren’t for you…”

“It’s really not a big deal. We’re even.”

Peter smiles softly. “You’re a really good guy, Harley.”

“You’re a superhero, Peter. There’s no way I could beat that.”

“It’s not a competition.”

Harley takes a step closer. “You make a really good Peter Pan. It fits.”

“What fits? The role or the tights?”

“Both,” Harley smiles, close enough now to cup Peter’s cheek and lift his head up to meet his eyes. “The hat’s cute too.”

Peter grins. “The kangaroo look is adorable, it works for you, believe it or not.”

And then Harley’s kissing him, tugging his body flush to his, and hands tangling into his curls and knocking his hat askew.

It only lasts a few minutes before Abbie’s wolf-whistling from the doorway.

“God, Abbie, buzzkill, much?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Mom just left for her shift at the hospital. Morgan’s determined on having a sleepover with Aspen so I sent them both up to her room, and I’m heading up to get some homework done. Keep it down, alright?”

“Abbie!”

Peter laughs, hiding his face against Harley’s chest.

“Guess you’re staying the night, huh?” Harley asks as soon as Abbie’s gone. Peter laughs some more before kissing Harley again.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @zanderljones {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed} 

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn

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Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 9: The Girl Who Grew Up (While He Was Blinking)

Sehun POV Had I known when he asked me to hang out that Donghae would take me out on his boat to fish, I would have dressed more appropriately for the mid-summer heat. Or maybe I would have made up some excuse to stay home. 

I didn’t have any particular issue with nature or anything; I just knew that I was the kind of person who thrived in air-conditioned environments. Plus, I thought that fishing was kind of boring. Out of respect for Donghae, though, I kept my complaints to myself long after I set my fishing rod down on the floor of the boat, where it soaked my new leather sneakers with water from the river. 

We had been on the water since the sun rose, and by sunset, Donghae had said a total of about five words. Because I didn’t really know how to break silences, I focused my gaze on that distant line where the crystal blue water met the sky, painted shades of pink, orange, and red. I had never really been in the habit of watching the sky, so I couldn’t remember a time that it had ever looked that way before. Golden. The moon, which I had to squint to make out through the thinning cotton candy clouds, was a crescent shape. 

It’s a shame that I didn’t think to take a picture, but I think I can still see that sky when I close my eyes. It’s too bad that I can’t paint it for you. Just take my word for it— the sky was never prettier. 

It’s a shame that nobody else saw that sky with me. Donghae was too focused on his line in the water. His jaw was tense, and unfamiliar creases were forming between his eyebrows. He seemed so deep in thought that I was reluctant to ask, “What’s wrong?” In the end, I decided to disturb the silence because I could probably count on one hand how many times I hadn’t seen Donghae wearing a smile. 

He flinched at the sound of my voice, met my eyes, but didn’t offer his characteristic smile. “It’s nothing, really,” he said before pulling his fishing rod out of the water to set it beside mine. 

Before I could narrow my eyes at his dishonesty and counter that it didn’t seem like nothing was bothering him, he said, “I’ve just spent these past few days, weeks, or months trying to figure out when Lei grew up.” I don’t think he heard my breath catch in my throat over the sound of his own voice. “It seems like she was a little girl just yesterday. Just yesterday, she was sitting at that table by the vending machine at the S.M. building with those dolls I got her for Christmas. And I’m trying to figure out when she found the time to trade the doll for that boy, and— it happened too fast. I think it happened while I was blinking.” 

Lei growing up was the last thing that I wanted to talk about, but I tried to have a little compassion for Donghae. He knew Lei longer. He knew her when she was younger. He was attached to her little gap-toothed smile and childish honesty before I was. It was probably hard for him to let go of the past, too. Maybe— maybe it was harder for him than it was for me. 

“Time flies,” I agreed with a defeated sort of sigh. “There’s no point in clinging to it. It’ll slip away no matter how hard you try to hold on.” 

Donghae asked, “When did you get so wise?” 

I couldn’t blame it on Junmyeon— I had learned that lesson on my own— so I joked, “Maybe it happened while you were blinking.”

Donghae’s laugh lifted some of the weight from my shoulders.

Although Lucas was the second to last thing I wanted to talk about, I felt light enough to tell Donghae, “It’s only natural for Lei to make friends. It’s only natural for Lei to meet boys.” 

“I know that,” Donghae admitted, sighing. “I’m not disappointed in her or anything. I’m just worried. I was never this worried when you were the only boy she noticed.” 

When I glanced at Donghae— my eyes had drifted back to the sky— he was studying me. His eyebrows were still gathered together and drawing worried lines on his face, but this annoying little grin tugged on the corner of his lips. “Oh,” I said dumbly. “So you know about that?” For some reason, I was too embarrassed to keep looking at him. 

“Yeah. Lei never considered her crush on you a secret, you know.”

I cringed, first, at imagining how many people knew about feelings that were none of their business. Then, I realized that Donghae was speaking in the past tense, and something about that made me squirm and drop my voice to an almost whisper. “She still doesn’t.” I picked at my nail beds. They were bleeding, but they didn’t hurt. “And she and Lucas are just friends, by the way.” 

I felt Donghae’s eyes on me, but I wouldn’t meet them. I told myself that was the best way to express disinterest, but I think I knew that I was afraid of what he might find if I returned his stare. 

He asked, “Do you like Lei?” so casually— so kindly— that every muscle in my body shouldn’t have tensed. My stomach shouldn’t have lurched. My pulse shouldn’t have quickened. 

My answer was an instant, flat, unwavering, “No,” but I heard in the following silence that Donghae didn’t believe me. 

Eventually, he asked, “You’re, what, five years older than her?” I stiffly nodded my head and hummed in response. “Five years won’t matter forever.” 

I suppose he was giving me permission to like her someday, but I didn’t want to.

And I suppose that he was probably right, but I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to count down the days until five years didn’t matter. I didn’t want to wish time away like that. All at once, I was so uncomfortable in my skin, even when Donghae finally looked away from me, that I would have walked away from the conversation if we weren’t in the middle of the lake. 

“Can we talk about something else?” I balled my hands into fists. I guess I was begging. “Anything else?”

Donghae said, “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” 

And I lied, “I’m okay.” And I didn’t blame Donghae for doubting me. 

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, he huffed, “This time when she’s between childhood and adulthood is uncomfortable for all of us, you know.” He must have been talking about Lei’s mom, himself, and the other members of Super Junior who made up their family unit. “Even though we’re all older than Lei, we’ve kind of grown up together. It’s— it’s kind of sad— the day that you realize you’ve outgrown certain memories— the day that you realize you’ll outgrow something new every day for the rest of time.” 

I didn’t know what to say. I had never heard Donghae talk like that. Figuring that I could only listen while he trusted me with his feelings— as uncomfortable as they made me— imagining that he was speaking for both of us— I turned back to the sunset. 

“I wouldn’t be thinking like this if that boy— Lucas— didn’t follow her everywhere. The first time I saw him, I dreaded the day when Lei might outgrow him or— worse— the day when he might outgrow her. I’ve tried to imagine what I’ll say if that happens. I’ve tried to figure out how to pick up the pieces and keep her whole if he breaks her.”

Donghae was never the kind of person to express fears about the future. I had only ever known his optimistic side, but maybe love— wanting what’s best for Lei— made him feel afraid too. 

Although I didn’t want to believe that Lei was as fragile as we feared, I swore, “If anything ever breaks Lei, you won’t be the only one picking up the pieces.” 

Of course, I was thinking about Yesung and Heechul, who would seek revenge on her behalf. I was thinking about Siwon, who would let her cry on his shoulder. I was thinking about Ryeowook, who would know all the right things to say to comfort her. I was thinking about her Mom, who would inspire her just by existing nearby. And I was thinking about myself, who wouldn’t know what to say or do— who would still try to help. 

As if it would comfort us, I said, “Besides, Lucas plans to stand by Lei forever, or at least that’s what he told me. I’m pretty sure he meant it. He had this stupid little grin on his face the moment I said Lei’s name. He loves her, or whatever.” 

I rolled my eyes at the memory of our conversation at the S.M. building. Since I admitted it to Lei, I’ll admit it to you: I was grossly jealous of Lucas’s effortless ability to make her smile that broad, bright, unrestrained, smile— and snort when she laughed— and forget that somebody was always watching. It was always clear that if Lucas ever hurt Lei, it would be an accident. It was always clear that he was the kind of person who would apologize before her eyes were wide and shiny with tears. 

All in all, Lucas was a good person— a good friend— and I should have been grateful that he was everything I didn’t know how to be. I tried to be grateful. Gratitude was just hard to muter when I hated him for reminding me of my shortcomings. 

“I can’t tell if that makes me feel better.” Donghae scratched at the back of his neck. “I want Lei to have friends. I don’t want her to be lonely, but I keep thinking that the longer he sticks around, the likelier he is to learn things that he shouldn’t know. I never want Lei to suffer for things that aren’t her fault.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t understand what Donghae meant. “What do you mean? What could be bad enough to scare Lucas away?” Mind you, they were inseparable at that point. I never saw one without the other. 

In Donghae’s defense, he preceded the heavy secret with many disclaimers.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he said first. 

I dismissed that one by promising, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Then, he said, “Once I tell you, you’ll always know.” 

All that did was fuel my curiosity. The secret was one of those that, once it was on the tip of the tongue, had to be spoken. There was no way to hold it back, but Donghae tried to bite his tongue even after I said, “Okay. Tell me anyway.” I shouldn’t have pried it out of him when he was so inclined to guard it, but I told myself that I needed to know to protect Lei. 

He chewed on his lip. “You have to promise that you won’t treat Lei any differently, okay?”

Wiping my clammy palms on my jeans, I assured him that nothing could ever change my friendship with Lei— not even the frown that contorted Donghae’s face as he blurted, “Lei’s mom is the idol who never debuted.”

I guess the effort to hold the words in his mouth blurred them all together once they were out in the open. Unable to make sense of whatever he said, I blinked at him. “What?”

Donghae whined and cradled his face in his hands, and I almost felt bad for making him repeat it. The second time, he spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “Lei’s Mom— Manager Kim— is the idol who never debuted.” 

Even when he spoke clearly enough for me to catch every word, the weight of the secret didn’t hit me. I couldn’t attach any meaning to the words. I felt stupid asking, “Who’s that?” before Donghae dropped his jaw and looked at me like I was an idiot. 

“You never heard of the idol who never debuted?”

“Obviously not,” I mumbled. Nobody likes feeling dumb. My ears burned. I either developed a sunburn or I was embarrassed again. “Is that some kind of TV reference or something? I don’t keep up with dramas, so—”

“No!” Donghae almost laughed at my cluelessness, and I was almost relieved after watching him mope all day. “I thought instructors warned trainees about becoming like the idol who never debuted!”

“Well, I’ve never heard about that before!” 

The whole phrase sounded suspect to me. How could anyone be an idol when they hadn’t debuted? If they didn’t debut, they were just a trainee— a failed one at that. I couldn’t begin to imagine Lei’s Mom as a figure in an S.M. cautionary tale when the story didn’t even make sense to me. 

When I strained my memory a bit to remember trainee days— when I strained to decipher the millions of whispers I heard throughout the day (that I threw away because they didn’t pertain to me)— I remembered the brief lectures barked at Chanyeol if he stood too close to girls during co-ed training. “Don’t stand too close. Don’t look too long. Don’t laugh too loud. You don’t want to end up like the idol who never debuted.” I never thought twice about it because it had never been said to me. 

Donghae explained, “Manager Kim trained to be an idol at S.M. years ago. She was very popular at the agency. She was even scheduled to debut, but she dropped out when she got pregnant with Lei.”

“What?” I gasped. The idea of Lei’s Mom as an idol— no, as a failed trainee— contradicted every idea I ever had of her as a responsible career-driven woman. She was such an efficient, passionate manager that I never would have imagined she had any ambition other than to manage artists. “How?”

A furious blush stained Donghae’s face when he cut his eyes at me. “How did she get pregnant?” I was embarrassed by the question the moment it fell out of my mouth, but it sounded worse in Donghae’s voice. Still, he answered, “Apparently, she was dating some bastard—” I choked on Donghae’s unexpected language— “who left her as soon as he got what he wanted.”

My face burned as it turned a shade that rivaled Donghae’s blush. While I knew that Lei’s father wasn’t involved in her life, I tried not to think about the circumstances. I tried not to think about things that could only hurt her— that could only hurt me. “Does Lei know?”

“She knows that her father left before she was even born,” Donghae growled, and I chewed through my cheek. It hurt enough to make my eyes water. Donghae took a deep breath. “But she doesn’t know that Manager Kim trained as an idol. She doesn’t know anything about the scandal.”

Instantly, relief washed over me. I had known Lei long enough to predict that she would blame herself for ruining her mother’s dreams. It didn’t matter that I didn’t think those feelings would be rational; I didn’t want Lei to experience them. I didn’t want her to suffer for something that wasn’t her fault. I wouldn’t have known how to comfort her through the burden of that knowledge. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would have been able to comfort her through something like that. 

And yet, I rambled to Donghae, “Somebody has to tell Lei. What if the media gets a hold of that information? You know how some people look for every way to tear us down. Not only would a story like that ruin Manager Kim’s reputation and Lei’s— Lei would be so caught off guard and vulnerable, and I—” 

I bit my tongue, closed my eyes, and told myself to stop imagining the worst-case scenario, but I couldn’t. It was my job to protect her, but how could I protect her from something that happened in the past? 

Out loud, I said, “I don’t want to see her hurt like that,” and I wouldn’t have cared who heard me. 

“It’s a well-guarded secret,” Donghae said as if he hadn’t just spilled it to me. “I understand where you’re coming from. It would be terrible if somebody tried to hurt Lei with the past she doesn’t even know about, but it’s not our place to tell her, Sehun.” I opened my mouth to disagree, but Donghae continued, “It’s not our secret. It’s Kim’s. If you tell Lei, you could seriously damage the relationship between a mother and a daughter.” 

That convinced me to bite my tongue. Lei told me on the bus once that her mother was everything to her. If her world was just one person, it would be her mother. Remembering how she leaned into my side and cried because those girls insulted her mother, I resolved to hold the secret. I didn’t know if anything could ruin Lei’s perception of her mother, but I never wanted to be the person to inflict such a deep wound. 

Carding a hand through my hair, I wheezed, all at once nauseated. “Don’t you think that Manager Kim is being irresponsible by keeping this secret? If it’s about her reputation—”

I cut myself off once I noticed Donghae’s glare. “I think you should be careful about how you speak about her—” he was clearly referring to Manager Kim— “to me.” He held his hands in fists too, and nothing had ever been more glaringly obvious than the fact that Donghae was in love with her. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. 

While I sat there, slackjawed, I wondered if Heechul, Donghae, and every other member of Super Junior all had a thing for Lei’s mother. I hoped they didn’t. I was already disgusted with Heechul for losing Lei while he was on that date at the drive-in. I didn’t want to believe that everybody could be so irresponsible with Lei while trying to impress her mother. 

As I tried to count the years separating Donghae from the object of his affection— as I concluded that it had to be somewhere around ten years— twice the amount of time between me and Lei— Donghae scolded, “I told you so you could protect Lei, not so you could judge Kim.”

Considering the hearts in Donghae’s eyes, I realized quickly that it would do no good to explain that I hadn’t meant to judge anyone. My apology didn’t wipe away the scowl that settled on Donghae’s face, but I wasn’t going to beg for forgiveness just because he was hypersensitive. 

Minutes passed in tense silence before Donghae decided to set the boat toward land. 

Feeling that I knew too much— more than Donghae even meant to tell me— I rubbed at my temples and griped, “I wish I didn’t know this.” 

I think he might have noticed the last few seconds of the sunset before the stars came out as he sighed, “Me too."

[only-here-for-jatp]

The Secret Chord pt 3

I am very thrilled with my poetic serious title and my chaotic mess of chapter titles that don’t do the title justice.

Anyway this entire chapter is Nick-centric and contains some negative self-talk so if you have difficulty with that (like I do) proceed with caution and stay safe and okay pretty please.

Also, we stan Carrie in this house thanks.

Read it on Ao3 here

And also below! ~2100 words

Nick was pretty sure this was a terrible idea.

It’d seemed like a great idea last night when he was watching Julie and the Phantoms at the Orpheum. The music was loud, and the crowd was electric. The bass kept up a steady rhythm pounding in sync with his heartbeat and it joined the audience into one body perfectly in sync. He’d felt so alive as if all of his nerve endings were firing at once. His joy came out as an endless ache while he watched Julie perform her heart out, her own enthusiasm evident in every note and movement.

She shone so bright on that stage, more so than anyone he’d ever seen. He’d long since known of her grit and determination, the perks of being in school together since elementary school. Over the years he watched as the little girl with the big voice and no fear stood up to bullies, teachers, and during what came to be known as Fallout 2016 her (ex)friend Carrie.

Julie held her head up so high as she walked through the hallways and he was in awe of her even then. There were still some things he was still working out about himself and she was so unapologetically herself. He’d often wished for her bravery to be that strong.

At the same time, he watched Carrie struggle to keep her head above water. Her dad loved her, but he was absentminded and often off on the road or some tour or party or something, leaving Carrie alone in that big empty house. Before there’d been the joy and laughter of Julie and Flynn echoing in the hallways, but now she sat alone in her thoughts.

It was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know Carrie, after all she’d always been a little rough around the edges, but Nick watched her harsh mask develop. He watched her use deflection and bravado to hide her fraying internal state. Nobody seemed to notice her growing intensity and focus on Dirty Candi, but it seemed like someone needed to do something.

Admittedly his feelings crept up on him. At first, he’d started small interactions as a friendly gesture. Little things like a smile or a wave so he could try to communicate somebody saw her. While she seemed a little confused at first, she soon started flashing him a smirk and a friendly sarcastic comment. Rather quickly their friendship grew, it turned into long conversations at lunch or studying together in the library. What started out as concern turned to pride and warmth as he watched this girl who hurt so much use her unwavering force of will (and a little pink glitter) to get up and meet each day with a take no prisoners attitude.

Once he saw her perform for the first time, he was a goner. That little smirk just did something to his insides. He asked her out and he was happy. They were happy.

Until Julie’s mom died. Whatever fallout might have happened between her and Julie, Carrie loved Rose. She’d been the closest thing Carrie ever had to a mother, and the loss hit her hard. Nick knew Julie would’ve granted her a temporary truce and welcomed Carrie with open arms to grieve. He was even pretty sure Carrie knew deep inside herself somewhere too, but the walls she’d built were too high and too wide to bring them down.

Nick did his best to be there for Carrie, but he knew he wasn’t what she needed. She needed Julie and the Molinas, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not yet. Instead her unresolved feelings ate at her morphing into jealousy and anger and acid. He watched this beautiful typhoon of a girl let the acid and anger consume her. Defenses and walls started going up against him too, until she treated him as little more than an accessory or a chess piece in her one-sided match against Julie Molina.

Beautiful burning Julie Molina who after a year of retreating into a cocoon, hiding from the world and her pain burst onto the stage like a firework. She maintained her grace and inner fortitude whatever the world, or Carrie, threw her way. Above all else though, she was kind. After months of being treated like a doormat, he craved the kindness and gentle protective ferocity that was Julie Molina.

He knew he followed her around like a lost puppy, but even if he couldn’t be with her just being around her made him feel like he could do anything. Be anything, even himself. Her music lived and breathed inside him, the words filling him up and offering him a lifeline when he didn’t even know how close he was to drowning.

He ached to return the favor of her steady reassurance and unconditional acceptance and support. She was incredible and she deserved to know. If he could emulate her even just a little bit, he wanted to try, wanted to practice being like Julie Molina.

Of course, this was how he found himself pacing the sidewalk for twenty minutes, gathering the courage to bring her these flowers. It shouldn’t be this hard. Flowers were a regular post-performance kind of gift. I mean, he did have a crush on her, but she seemed to be into her guitarist? Would she think he was creepy or weird or persistent? He didn’t want to scare her off. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably didn’t have a shot with someone as incredible as her anyway. He’d like to think he stood a chance since her guitarist was a hologram, but the way they looked at each other….

What did it matter? These flowers were not crush flowers. He would’ve gotten her Dahlias for that. These were simply good job flowers. They’d performed at the Orpheum! That was a big deal. This is fine. This is normal.

A small burst of confidence propelled him forward while he gave himself a mental pep talk in his head. Later he would kick himself for not being more aware of his surroundings, but to be fair no one really expects a tall, mysterious demon man to sneak up behind them.

Yet here he was staring at this man in some steam punk adjacent costume, a smug plastic grin on his face and a mildly threatening atmosphere. He’d rang the doorbell, but he hoped Julie didn’t walk out here while this creep was still around.

“How sweet. The brokenhearted teenager fighting for his girl.”

Nick was taken aback. For one thing, brokenhearted was not the right word. He was hopeful. For another- “Do I know you?”

“No, but you will.”

Nick didn’t even have a chance to react before Caleb’s hands were around his neck. It felt like fire was racing through his veins, consuming him. He couldn’t move, his arms spread wide, but his insides struggled against the invasion. Thrashing and shrieking he screamed inside his mind.

It started in his fingertips and toes, his body feeling like it was too crowded. Like something was growing and pushing him out. He fought so hard trying to stretch and stand up to the purple smoke that was blinding and dividing him. Yet he was losing the battle with every moment. Feeling himself getting shoved and squeezed until he couldn’t feel his arms or his legs or the breaths he took or the beating of his own heart. Until he couldn’t feel the weight of his own tongue.

The world went quiet first. Then it went dark.

Nick came to in a room of boundless dark. He thought about being afraid, but it wasn’t a place where things lurked. He could tell it was just empty. A brief glance showed that he could see himself, slightly translucent maybe, but still there. The space seemed to go on forever and the longer he looked the more anxious he became. His eyes darted from space to space, but it was a never-ending sea of nothingness.

A voice echoed around him, making the world rumble and shake. “Now now, Nicholas. My name is Caleb and it’s nice to meet you.”

“Who are you!? What do you want!? Where am I!?” Nick shouted at the disembodied voice, hearing the fear and trembling in his tone and wishing desperately for the confidence and bravado typically attributed to jocks. What he wasn’t prepared for was the jolt that through him.

The pain stabbed in his gut and it felt like it was ripping him open, piece by piece. He fell to his knees with a scream, doing his best not to sob as the feeling lingered. Caleb laughed before continuing. “tsk tsk tsk. I am speaking, you just need to listen. I am… borrowing your body for the time being. This little lifer girl and her trio of ghostly boy band made a fool of me. And NOBODY defies my will and gets away with it.”

“What does that have to do with- aghhhh” Nick couldn’t hide the sobs as another jolt shot through him.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to be a fast learner Nicky-poo. I’m in charge and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Just sit there and be quiet and maybe I’ll return your body back in one piece. Besides you may not know what I’m talking about, but you’re close with that lifer brat Julie. Her ghosties would never let me get close, you on the other hand, well they can’t stop you.”

Nick felt icy terror roll through him. Julie? This madman demon was after Julie? “No” he wheezed. He kept repeating the word as if it would give him power as he progressively got louder until he was standing and screaming it into the void, damn the consequences. “NO. I won’t let you hurt her.”

Another jolt ripped through him as an invisible force knocked him back. The laughter seemed to echo around the space reverberating into an endless mocking loop. “You? You won’t let me? What exactly are you going to do Nicholas? After all, you couldn’t even defend yourself against me. What makes you think you’re capable of doing anything at this point to stop my plans?”

Nick sagged against the ground. There wasn’t anything he could do. His insides felt hollowed out as hopelessness descended upon him. Useless. He was absolutely useless.

“There you go! Now you’re getting it. Anyway, this is the inside of your head and it can be manipulated into whatever I want. Behave and I’ll make sure it’s somewhat comfortable, continue to fight and defy me and I’ll make sure you relive your worst nightmares. Got it?”

Nick nodded, curling up on himself in defeat. If only he’d stayed home today.

“Good, now I just need to borrow your memories real quick and we can get this show on the road. After all, I have a fight too.”

It felt like someone was slicing his brain into pages and flipping through it like you would a book or a deck of cards. He’d grabbed his head at the pain and briefly resisted before giving into the feeling. It was almost like he could feel the fingers turning through the pages. Flipping through his life as if it were nothing. As if he were nothing. He hoped Caleb got a cosmic papercut.

And then for a brief shining moment there was nothing. No Caleb, no jolts, no rummaging through his psyche, no noise. No world. Unfortunately, what looked like a big screen popped up in front of him. Was that the Molina’s house? Were these his eyes? He almost couldn’t watch as Julie opened the door. Then there he was again. Alone in the dark vastness of nothing. He let out an empty laugh. Of course, he was. That was him, always alone. Always hiding. Unable to make any true impact on the lives of the people around him. He’d failed to help Carrie battle her darkness and Julie certainly never needed him.

He wondered briefly if anyone would even notice if he was gone. If anyone would even realize this thing that occupied his body was using him like a puppet. He doubted it. No one ever managed to make it past his walls. No one ever viewed him as more than as that blonde lacrosse player, or Carrie’s boyfriend.

He was as unseen and unheard in here as he was for every other moment of his life.

The disembodied voice never said anything, but Nick was sure he could feel Caleb roll his eyes and mutter “teenagers”. Suddenly a couch poofed into existence and Nick settled into it, finding it oddly comforting. He curled himself around a pillow that he’d dragged into his lap, ready to watch his life spin out of his control.

[spookyceph]

Good Graces Pt. 2

Finally got the second half of this fic together. Find it on Ao3 or the first part here on Tumblr. 

Nothing explicit takes place, however, the non-canon talk is of a sexual nature. Also, Dabi is a masochist and likes being ordered around. But we knew this already, didn’t we?

Words: 2,789

Rating: M for language and sexual themes

The wait ended two days later in the same spot. Dabi was in the process of pouring himself his second drink of the night when a misty-edged hole opened in reality behind the bar. From it stepped the tall, elegant form of Kurogiri. Dabi had never really considered what a demon might look like, but the League’s second-in-command/butler/voice of reason provided plenty of inspiration. Impeccable suit. Ability to show up anywhere. Form too immaterial to hurt, but still capable of making someone pay for trying. As always, Dabi gave him a polite nod and fought back memories of how it had felt to unexpectedly be elbow-deep in that shifting darkness.

“Ah, Dabi. Just the person I was hoping to see.” Deep. Smooth as high-end nihonshu. The kind of voice that could talk somebody into trading away their firstborn. Or into joining a half-assed villain ensemble.

Dabi paused with his glass to his lips. He made a sound he hoped came across as Yes, I’m listening rather than Help, I’ve swallowed my own tongue in mortal terror.

“Shigaraki Tomura wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”

This was it. This was not a drill. Dabi put down the glass without taking a sip. “Where?”

“He is in his room at the moment. I will open the way, if you wish to go now.”

He’d just slid off the stool when the words registered. The air behind him changed. It was like the faint static charge living things gave off and a feeling of being watched all at once. Except Dabi knew if he turned he’d see only a hazy oval of black floating there, the perfect width and length to swallow him completely.

He didn’t want to use the warp gate. No fucking way. Problem was he’d already gotten up—couldn’t sit back down without looking like a coward or a dumbass or both. And he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he already knew where Shigaraki’s room was to the person who amounted to the closest thing the guy had to a father.

So, Dabi grabbed his glass again. Knocked back the contents. Pretended it was just like jumping into a cold pool on a summer day as he turned and plunged into the waiting darkness.

Nothing existed anymore. Not time. Not space. Not self. Then something—maybe Kurogiri’s will or just simple momentum—carried him back into being. He returned to reality with a gasp. Catching his balance, he blinked and took stock of his new surroundings.

Shigaraki sat on his heels not a meter away, staring up through the stiff fingers of his favorite fashion statement. Large sheets of paper littered the floorboards in front of him. Maps, Dabi realized, noting the grid lines and coordinate markings. Somewhere way out in the sticks, if all the green and brown were any clue. Turning his head, he saw shelves lining the walls. Books? No, too many the same size and too thin. Cases for games—hundreds of them. More than one person could finish without giving up on everything else in life. Then again, what did he know? He’d never been allowed to have any as a kid. Never been allowed to have anything that might distract him from the glorious future planned out for him since day one. And just look at how well that had gone.

At any rate, the room didn’t seem to have the right ambiance to banish or murder someone in. Dabi let his hopes peek out from the bunker of suspicion.

“What’s this stuff for?” he asked, nodding to the maps on the ground.

Nothing from Shigaraki for an adrenaline-spiking second. Then, he crooked the fingers of one hand. “Sit.”

Dabi obeyed, pacing himself. Step in closer. Let one leg fold under him. Just bend the other so the sole of his boot lay flat on the floor. Rest same side elbow on knee. Prop the whole casual façade up with the other hand behind him.

“You got something you wanna say?” Cool nonchalance despite all the spit having vanished from inside his mouth.

Closing those intense eyes, his boss-and-possibly-more drew a long inhale. Didn’t even gag on the musty museum specimen smell of the taxidermy clutching his face. Then it was Dabi’s turn to suck in a breath as Shigaraki pulled off the gray hand with fumbling fingers, setting it aside.

“I want you to lead the others on their first job,” he said, complete with direct eye contact.

Any pretense of self-assurance abandoned Dabi. His stomach clenched as if braced for a punch. He pumped his brain for something droll, snappy, cocky in response. The well had run dry. He settled for practical.

“What do you want us to do?”

Shigaraki’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his stoic expression never wavered. “I was given some interesting information about UA’s precious fledgling heroes. Seems they’re headed to a remote training camp in the mountains for the summer. No one will be looking after them except two of their teachers and four pros who specialize in wilderness rescue missions. I want you to ruin their little retreat.”

Dabi’s spine went stiff and straight as an exclamation point. “I didn’t sign up to kill kids—even baby heroes.”

But Shigaraki was already shaking his head halfway through. “Killing them isn’t the point. That would generate too much outrage, hypocritical or no. The police might actually pry their heads from their asses and make a united effort to hunt us down with that much public pressure on them. Not to mention every third-rate pro in the country would crawl out of the woodwork, looking to make headlines. We’d be finished before we ever got started.

“No, what I have in mind is some training of our own.”

Attention swapped places with apprehension. “Oh?”

“None of us have worked together. Most of us haven’t worked on a team at all. This is an opportunity to test how well your quirks and styles compliment or clash with one another.”

“So, what? We crash their field trip and start fucking shit up? Flee the scene when the fighting gets too heated?”

“I came up with a level objective for you to focus on.” From on top of the maps, Shigaraki scooped up a thick manila folder and handed it to him.

Taking it, Dabi flipped to the first set of pages inside. His expression stayed set in stone while his stomach took a cliff dive.

A pretty girl with skin the color of bubblegum and squiggly little horns peeking out of her cotton candy hair smiled out at him from the photo in the top corner.

Name: Ashido Mina

Age: 15

Quirk: Acid

“You got hold of the students’ profiles? Impressive.” And a potential fucking disaster waiting to happen.

Shigaraki shrugged modestly, lightly scratching a new crop of scabs that had popped up in jagged furrows on both sides of his neck. Scabs that hadn’t been there a few days ago. “It’s just their teachers’ assessments of their quirks and performance during class assignments. Personal information like relatives and home addresses were better protected.”

The vice slowly closing its jaws around Dabi’s thumping heart released. Regardless, he made sure not to linger on any one student as he leafed through several of the profiles. Just focused on breathing normally and pretending to read for what seemed like a reasonable amount of time before moving to the next. He’d wait until he didn’t have an audience to allow himself to register anything.

“What’s this objective supposed to be?” he inquired.

“Capture one of the stronger, more notable students and ask him to join us.”

A muscle in his cheek jumped when Shigaraki reached over and flipped to a report in the middle of the folder. Dabi forced himself not only to look but see.

The boy scowling out of the picture was blonde. Broad-shouldered. Red-eyed, though not as beautifully as the one sitting across the way. Dabi’s pulse evened out.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he read. “Isn’t this the kid they had to bind and gag at UA’s Sports Festival—even though he won the damn thing?”

“The same.”

“The hell do we want him for? I thought we were full capacity on lunatics already.”

A sigh. “To spook the school’s supporters and society at large, for one. It’s not enough to kill heroes. More will just take their place. We have to convince people to withdraw their support of them. Turn against them, though that won’t come until later.”

Dabi snorted. “This little asshole will never agree to sign on with us. He’s obsessed with proving he’s above everyone else. I know the type.”

A twitch of interest crossed Shigaraki’s face. Instead of pressing, though, he filed the slip away in that mysterious brain of his. “I don’t give half a shit if he agrees. All that matters is he blabs to anyone who’ll listen that we targeted and tried to corrupt him once we let him ‘escape’.”

Tapping his fingers on the stack of papers, Dabi let the big picture come into focus. “Instead of outright attacking the school, we’re undermining their image. Making all the mommies and daddies wonder if a career as a pro is as great as they thought it would be for their precious snot-nosed bastards. Getting donors to think twice before reaching for those wallets. We’re playing the long game. Smart.” A thin smile tugged at one end of Dabi’s mouth. “Which leaves just one question. Why have me lead instead of yourself? People might accuse me of sleeping my way to the top.”

A lovely shade of pink, like the inner coating of a seashell, livened up Shigaraki’s cheeks. “We never—!” He huffed and turned away, pink deepening to rose and spreading to the tops of his ears when he noticed Dabi’s smile had widened to a grin. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Guilty. Well, on the last part anyway.”

Shigaraki continued to fume, hopes of an answer dwindling with each second of silence. Then, just when an apology was in the works, “Because I’m a shitty leader.”

Dabi exchanged his smile for arched eyebrows. “”And you think I’d make a better one?”

“You take initiative when you need to, and show restraint when you should. You’re able to read people without giving away much of anything about yourself. The others respect you. They like you. Anyway, from a purely tactical standpoint, since your quirk is long range you can attack and give orders without getting swept up in the melee. And…” Blood-soaked irises looked at him through a tangled curtain of white hair for a moment before flitting back to the safety of the maps. “I trust you.”

Every response Dabi had lined up crumbled. With them gone, he couldn’t pretend not to notice what they’d been hiding. Exposed to proper light and air, it bloomed, bright and bold despite the ruin it grew from.

“I won’t fail.” The words were hoarse, but came out easily enough for a promise he’d swore to make to no one except himself ever again.

“I know you won’t. Because this isn’t about winning or losing. I want you and the others to test yourselves as individuals and as a team. Do your best. Find what works. What doesn’t. We’ll figure out where to go from there. Together.”

He’d joined the League of Villains looking for a means to exact revenge. Being told what he’d always wanted to hear made for a hell of a bonus prize.

Dabi pounced. His mouth mashed into Shigaraki’s, muffling an astonished yelp. Cold hands latched onto the front of his shirt. Not Decaying. Not shoving. Clinging. Insisting. He obliged, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and shoulders, then letting his weight carry them both to the floor. They rolled across the maps, scattering stolen papers as they went. Lips and teeth and tongue combined in different ways between every panting break for air.

Winding up sprawled on top, Dabi relocated his kisses to Shigaraki’s neck. The whimper that came out of him when just a bit of suction was applied under the corner of his jaw went directly to Dabi’s dick. Shigaraki writhed, supple and strong, yet unsure and overwhelmed. His fingers—three on each hand—clutched hard enough to hurt through a carapace of scar tissue. The scabs crosshatching his neck scraped the tongue and tasted of rust.

He surpassed any fantasy conjured up in the past few weeks. Because he was real. Unpredictable. And, in that slice of time at least, he was Dabi’s.

Shigaraki gasped and arched at the feel of a hand slipping up under his shirt. Dabi became so absorbed in the smooth, cool texture of the skin beneath his fingertips he didn’t think anything of the arm that snaked around his own, or the heel hooked behind his knee until, with a sharp twist of hip, he was rolled. The air rushed out of him in a huff as he hit the floor. Shigaraki didn’t look it, but he was solid, planting himself on Dabi’s chest and pinning both his wrists above his head.

“No,” he said, decisive if out of breath. “We do this my way.”

Dabi kept perfectly still. One wriggle, one shift, and he would’ve cum in his pants right then and there. So, he relaxed one muscle group at a time. Controlled his breathing. Showed his boss what a good boy he could be.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, already positive he’d like the answer.

Despite his command of the situation, Shigaraki’s gaze wandered off to the side. Unsure. Shy. God, it was going to be fun fucking both descriptions right out of him.

“I don’t have…experience…with this, ah, subject.”

Dabi had to keep his teeth clamped together to keep from laughing. Good. He had to be good or he wouldn’t get any treats.

“So, I thought…maybe we could each make a list. Of things we like—or might like. And of stuff we don’t, or aren’t interested in. Then…pick and agree on an option. Until…until someone gets bored or just doesn’t want to anymore or…whatever.”

The habit of exceeding expectations was quickly becoming one of Dabi’s favorite things about his new boss. “Is that what you’ve been up to these past three days? Thinking about what you want to do to me?”

Shigaraki shifted his weight forward a bit, breathing definitely speeding up a notch. “Not the entire three days,” he muttered.

Dabi rested his hands on slim hips, keeping them still before they sent him over the edge. “When did you want this list?”

He considered, worrying his already cracked bottom lip with his teeth and then catching the trickle of blood with the point of his tongue in a way that made Dabi’s toes curl in his boots. “We’ll need to start meeting regularly to work on the plan anyway, so…tomorrow, at this time.”

Meaning he had already made a list and wanted to see what Dabi came up with. “Done.”

“Well.” Shigaraki cleared his throat lightly. “It’s settled then.” Carefully, he started to slide his leg over. Froze when a soft hiss escaped Dabi. A finger stroked one of the staples in his cheek before pulling back, remembering permission to do so hadn’t been agreed on yet.

“Did I hurt you? When we rolled over?”

Absolutely precious. Dabi smiled. “Not as much as I want you to.”

Red eyes blinked rapidly, wide and startled. “I’m…sorry?”

“Don’t be. Now go on. Let me up.”

Still looking a bit lost, Shigaraki did, sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs. Dabi sat upright on a long exhale. Paused to collect himself. Got to his feet when he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t ruin his last clean pair of pants doing so.

“You’re leaving?”

The note of disappointment in Shigaraki’s tone almost toppled his resolve. He looked over through lowered lashes. “I have something pressing to take care of at the moment. Unless you don’t want to wait for a list to find out what it is.”

One glance below Dabi’s belt transformed confusion into open-mouthed understanding. “Oh.” Shigaraki buried his face in his knees. “Sorry?”

“I already told you. Don’t be.” And before his willpower evaporated completely, “See you tomorrow.”

He’d made it to the door when a final thought sprung on him. Pausing with his fingers on the handle, he peered back over his shoulder. “You didn’t come up with this whole training camp plan just to score some alone time with me, did you?”

The choked sound that came from Shigaraki was answer enough. Dabi finally allowed himself to laugh as he let himself out.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #437

“you get what you pray for  /  you don’t get anything”

Do you tell your mom and dad everything? No. Who was the last person you talked about something that was bothering you with? Most likely my mom. What’s your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. Who did you last share a taxi with? I've never been in a taxi. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I've never done drugs, but the first time I drank was actually an accident. I'd come in from a long, hot walk, and I desperately needed water, and Mom offered me what I thought was just pink lemonade. Turns out it was a Mike's Hard Lemonade and I CHUGGED it before everyone around me was like "NOOOO!" because it was alcohol lmaooo. If you were far from home and needed to sleep for the night, would you choose to rent a crappy motel room for $60 or sleep in your car for free? I'm sleeping in my car. I'm afraid of things like bed bugs. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? I don't think so? Have you ever rolled off your bed in your sleep? Pretty sure no. What is your favourite planet? Saturn! Do you enjoy Mario games? Not really, honestly. They're just not my style. Mario Kart is fun every now and again, though. What flavor fruity drink is your favorite? Strawberry, in most cases. Ever done a keg stand? No. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you have any health problems that are unusual for your age? I have carpal tunnel in my wrists from typing so much, but I'm not sure how "unusual" that is for young adults nowadays... I feel like there's something else, but it's evading me right now. Do you bite your nails? No, I pick/peel at them. :x What’s the longest nap you’ve ever taken? Oh god, hours. To the point it no longer really qualifies as a "nap." When people ask you about school, what is your usual response? Do you enjoy talking about school? Why or why not? I get all awkward and just reply that I gave it numerous shots, but my mental health couldn't handle it. I hate talking about school because I feel like a failure. Do you know how to fill a car’s tire with air? Have you ever had to do it? No to both. Do you like your best friend’s parents? Why or why not? Omg I LOVE them. They are spectacular people with massive hearts. I especially am drawn to her dad, whom I find incredibly inspiring. Both her parents are just great. I miss 'em. What do you like in your hot cocoa - marshmallows, whipped cream, candy canes? Do you even like hot cocoa? I loooove hot chocolate. I really just prefer it plain, but you can toss a few marshmallows in there. Which do you have a problem with: over-eating or under-eating? I'm way more likely to over-eat than under-eat. A girl likes her food lmao. The last boy you kissed, good-looking? He's by no means ugly, but I wasn't physically attracted to him personally. Do you love him? Not romantically, but definitely platonically. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. When was the last time you were given flowers? Ummm... I want to say the last time was many years ago when Tyler visited for the first time when we started dating. What do you want to name your children? I don't want kids. But hypothetically, Alessandra and probably Damien. Would you ever write a letter to someone you haven’t met yet, like your future spouse? No. I'd probably get too emotional anyway. Do you carry a mirror in your purse? No. Do you believe that there is beauty in everything? I've always thought this was such a stupid idea that tries to make reason out of life and its tragedies. Like yeah, cancer, rape, murder, etc. are definitely "beautiful." There is absolutely no beauty in a vast plethora of things. The first time you smoked, did you cough like a fool? I've never smoked before. When you were younger, did you have a Neopets account? Oh, yes. I loooooved Neopets, but not quite as much as Webkinz. I've actually remade a Neopetz account multiple times because I'd forget my info, ha ha... Who was the last person you got in a fist fight with? I've never been in a physical fight. Did you and your mom ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? Not "move out," no. We did, however, have a fight where I stayed with Dad for I want to say a week, maybe a bit less. Do you dislike anyone? Why? Well, yes. I don't know anyone who doesn't dislike somebody. There are a few people, in my case, that I'm not going to spend time going through and pointing out what I don't like. Do you think you will be in a relationship 2 months from now? No. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? Like constantly. Does your animal sleep with you? Roman usually does, yeah. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? No. Mom has those in photo albums. What kind was the last chip you ate? I want to say traditional Lays? It was at my nephew's bday party. Do you eat onion rings? No, I'm not a fan. What was the last thing to disgust you? I think it was some thumbnail I saw on YouTube, even though it was (weakly) blurred. Where do you see your ex in 5 years? "The" ex, I don't want to think about it. Probably somewhere great for him, but would break my heart if I knew. Do your parents swear? Dad swears big time, while Mom tries to hold it back. You won't hear her say something like "fuck" unless she is SERIOUSLY upset. Do you ever drink warm milk? Warm milk sounds literally disgusting. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? No. I literally just came back from my break from it, so it'd be more funny than anything. The universe's way of telling me "nah, son." Who do you know that wears the most makeup? My friend Summer, but then again she's a cosmetologist. Have you ever had bronchitis? No, thankfully. Jason had it BAD once and I will neeever forget that cough, good Lord. Do you like to wear makeup? I hate applying it more than anything. Like, I love that it can help me feel prettier, but I pretty much never wear it because it's just a pain to put on, especially by myself because I have bad tremors in my hands. How many times have you been to the ER? Way too many times for being suicidal. How often do you feel lonely? Honestly, pretty much always. When are you most uncomfortable? I dunno, man. I'm always uncomfortable about one thing or another. Has anyone ever revealed a secret about you? Not that I remember... Have you ever revealed anyone else’s secret? No, that is such a shitty thing to do. Have you ever had a family member/friend that was hospitalized? Yes. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? No. Is there anything you want to experiment with? I mean, nothing that quickly comes to mind. There are things I want to try, but nothing major. What do you hope happens to you after you die? Mixed feelings. Sometimes I hope there's some sort of nirvana-like state we experience, I think it'd be wonderful to be reunited with loved ones, but I also sometimes think it'd be best if we just... stopped existing. Consciousness just stops. I dunno. I'll find out eventually. What is the most disgusting thing you have seen in person (not on TV)? Probably a maggot-infested deer corpse that I faintly remember from where I used to live. I thought it was the sickest thing ever lmao, in both senses. What is something others make fun of you for? Always holding some sort of technology. Just don't fucking comment on it. It makes me self-conscious as hell. Is your life turning out like you pictured it would? QUITE THE FUCKING OPPOSITE. Do your initials spell out a word? No. Has anyone ever given you roses? Yeah. Last baby you held? My older sister's youngest daughter. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsman? My aforementioned sister's. What is something you would never do to your body? I mean, there's a large number of things. There are certain piercings and tattoos I wouldn't dare to get, I plan on taking care of my hair as best I can to avoid ruining it despite wanting to dye it a lot... *shrug* Stuff like that. How are you planning to decorate your house for Halloween? I don't know if we'll decorate. We haven't really for a few years now... I don't have the motivation to do it myself, and now that it's just me and her and I'm grown up (I know, I'm laughing too), Mom doesn't really bother with doing it. I know I DO want to carve pumpkins this year, though. Dunno what, but I'll figure it out. Ever lived in a trailer park? No. Do you like salsa that has fruit in it? NOOOOOOOOOOO Can you count in binary? No. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? I'll eat both, but I have a strong preference for soft ones. When was the last time someone kissed you on the cheek? Who was it? I'm sure that was either my niece of nephew when I was leaving their house when I last visited for Ryder's birthday. What kind of ice cream did you eat last? Where’d you get it from? It was chocolate. I had a scoop at the aforementioned birthday party. Do you like flowers? What is your favorite kind to receive? I love flowers. I don't have a favorite to receive, really. Have you ever unblocked someone that you blocked before? Yes. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? I like to be pretty similar. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No. I don't fuck with that, even for that much money. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? He wants nothing to do with me. Do you think it is okay to drive while high? Obviously not...? Do you find Halloween or Valentine’s Day more exciting? Halloween. Has anyone you know ever had serious surgery before? Yeah; my mom immediately comes to mind in both instances she had cancer. When she had kidney cancer, the tumor was larger than the kidney itself, and she lost the entire organ. When she had ovarian cancer, she had to have a complete hysterectomy because the cancer was EVERYWHERE along her reproductive system to an almost fatal degree. My mom's pretty metal. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? No, because that's a violation of privacy? You don't do that shit. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not, have you ever came close to? Yes. The only time that I remember was maaaany years ago, like, maybe '14. I've nearly fainted plenty of times since then for various reasons, but mostly just from low blood pressure. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in that class or how you used to before you took the class? Yes; I believe one course was mandatory in middle school. I type the proper way, yeah. Ever cut your hair (the entire thing – not just the bangs or a little part) yourself? Noooo. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? Well, I'd like to be a freelance photographer, but to be real, I'm starting to loosen up on that dream. It's been too long, I just don't see it happening anymore. Baby steps are one thing, but I've barely managed any of those in forever. Ever meet and talk to someone from an online dating site? No. Would you date someone you weren’t physically attracted to? Why or why not? Yes; I've done it before. I just care way more about emotional chemistry. Besides, historically, me liking someone for their heart has made each person a lot more attractive to me as a whole. Last person to hang up on you? I dunno. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Blair Witch Project. The second one is great, too, plus The Crazies. Which urban legend is your favourite? Oh man, you can't ask me this. I LOVE cryptids and conspiracies 'n shit. Are any of your fears completely irrational? Yes, like whale sharks. A whale shark ain't gonna hurt u boo but I see that mouth and am like no thnx Where is the light switch in your room? Funnily enough, I don't have a light switch; there isn't a ceiling light in this room. I instead have two table lamps that I can turn on on either side of my bed. Would you make a good lawyer? Hell no, I cry when I argue lmao. It's funny tho because I remember in TWO instances, in-depth surveys recommending jobs for you brought up me being a lawyer, and each time I was just like,,,,, no???????? Why did your family decide to live where you’re living now? It was more necessity than anything. Our old house had a LOT of issues to it, and with Mom's cancer diagnosis, she needed the cleanest environment possible, and that was NOT our old place. The house we live in now is owned by a family friend, and when the previous owner died, the timing just... kinda worked out to where that family friend I mentioned helped us pay our way into here. We really don't like this place because of the location, but it had to work. What was the best pet you've ever had? All things considered, I have to hand it to my boy Teddy. That dog was someone special. Very, very special. If you were allowed one murder without punishment, would you do it? Nah. Name one song you can play on an instrument, any instrument! I can probably still slam out "Hot Cross Buns" on a recorder. \m/ Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? Noooo, I'm scared to. On the opposite sex, do you prefer muscles, average size, or scrawny bodies? It depends on the person, ig. I can be attracted to any of those. Just not EXTREME muscle. Not my thing at all.

[rebelcourtesan]

Thicker than Water Sneak Peek Ch. 13

Has not been edited nor put through Grammarly.  

“Something’s wrong,” Marty muttered, talons tapping the back of his phone as he awaited a response.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Shard told him with a lit cigarette between his teeth.  

“She hasn’t texted back . . .”

“In give fuckin’ minutes.  She’s probably on the john or busy with somethin’.  Give her time.”

“I need to go in there.”

“How?  They aren’t going to let a chump like you in there,” Shard retorted, tapping ashes out the window.  “Just be cool.”

“She’s in there with the Von Eldritchs.”

“Right and she’s with Angel Dust, the celebrated porn star.  They’re probably just brushing elbows and tryin’ to chat ‘em up.  Nothin’ to worry about.”

The car was parked in an alley, just a street down where they could see the front of the Midnight Song glowing like a beacon in the night.  He should be in there with Liz.  She didn’t know all the dangers Hell could pose for her and if she’s mingling with the Von Eldritchs . . .

“I can go invisible and . . .”

“You’re not going to do shit,” Shard replied with a dangerous edge in his voice.  “A place like that has wards to keep out any magic or unwanted guests that go through the front door.  And if ya do make it in there, what then?  You gonna offend the Von Edritchs, one of the top noble families in Hell because they talked to your daughter?  Give her away her disguise and paint a big fuckin’ target on her back?”

Marty wanted to argue, hell, he wanted to deck Shard for saying things that made too much sense.  Taking a deep swig from his flask, he checked his phone for a response and his worry deepened when none came.

***

She returned to consciousness in phases.  First she could feel the cold floor beneath her, then hear a voice calling her name, then smell a sweet candied musk.

“Hey, hey, Liz, baby, ya gotta snap outta it,” the voice was telling her.  

Who was that?  She recognized the voice, but not the name attached to it.  Whoever it was, spoke as if they knew her.  And why did her feet ache?

“Hey, wake up!”  

A slap across her face made her eyes water, but she was able to focus on the source of the voice.  A pink face with large heterochromia eyes hovered above hers and she was able to pluck a name from memory.  “Angel Dust?”

“Yeah, doll, yeah, that’s me.  Are ya alright?”

“I will be . . .I just need a few minutes.”  Her head was pounding and she was very tired.  “How long . . .how long did it last?”

“Too fuckin’ long.  Jesus, maybe a minute?”

“That’s good . . .”

“What the fuck happened, Liz?  You blacked out and began twitching.”

Sighing, she tried to sit up and her head swam.  Nope, wasn’t quite ready for that yet.  “I have epilepsy.”

“Shit . . .” Angel Dust breathed.  “Does Marty . . .”

“No, he doesn’t know and you don’t tell him,” Liz shook her head and regretted it as nausea almost made her gag.  God, she hadn’t taken her anti-seizure medication since the night the imps attacked her.  That was two days ago so the medicine must have left her system by now, especially since its been in overdrive with all the stress of everything that's happened since she’s been in Hell.  “I’ll tell him . . .but not right now.”

“What if you . . .ya know . . . black out again?”

“I shouldn’t black out again for a few more days,” Liz promised.  “At least, I don’t think I will.  Jesus, my head hurts.”

“I got some vicodin,” Angel Dust offered, snapping open his purse.  “It’s great for hangovers.”  

“You have vicodin?  In Hell?”  

“Oh yeah, you get all the drugs down here, doll.”

Hope rose in her heart.  “What about gabapentin?  Or phenytoin?”

“Never heard of those, but I ain’t  never looked for ‘em neither,” Angel Dust shrugged.  “If they’re prescription drugs or narcotics, then someone is selling it somewhere in Hell.”

She felt a heavy weight lift off her shoulders at the possibility of controlling her seizures down here.  It was a good feeling that her nausea ebbed away and she was able to sit up, but with some help from Angel Dust.  After a drink of water from the sink to swallow the vicodin.  She kicked off the stilettos as her legs were still wobbling and her sense of balance completely back yet.  

While she recovered, Angel Dust began smoking a cigarette that gave off an oddly crimson line of smoke from the lit tip.  It didn’t have that noxious smell of burning nicotine, but a sweet musk that send a pearl of desire through her lower belly.  It must be a positive sign that the throes of the seizure was leaving her.  

She checked her phone and saw over a dozen messages from Marty.  “Shit, Dad, just calm down.”

“What?”  Angel Dust asked, lowering his cigarette which continued to fill the air with its fragrance.  

“My Dad is worrying about why I haven’t replied to each and everyone of his texts,” she muttered as she sent a reply assuring him that everything was alright.  I’m fine.  Angel and I went to the restroom.  

Marty’s response was so quick, she believed he had been staring at the phone awaiting her reply.  Did you get away from the Von Eldritchs?

She texted: For right now.

Marty texted:  Stay away from them!

“Angel, can you tell me who those guys were?”  She was tired of being warned without being given clear information of why.  “I take it from how you handled them that they’re important somebodies that you don’t want to cross.”

“Got it in one, doll,” Angel Dust said, dropping the cigarette into the toilet.  “The Von Eldritch Family is nobility and close to the royal family.  So much so that prick Seviathan used to date the princess.”

“Really?  That’s the one that said something about Hell being purer earlier.”  She opened her purse and checked her makeup.  It was a bit smeared around the mouth, but easily remedied.

“Oh, don’t listen t’ that bullshit,” Angel Dust said, rolling his eyes and fluffy out his hair and chest puff in the mirror next to her.  “If it wasn’t for us Sinners, then Hell would be nothing more than fire and brimstone.  Where do ya think the nightclubs, television, porn, and smartphones they enjoy so much come from?  Oh, please, whenever the hellborn nobles got somethin’ to bitch about, it’s always about the Sinners and how we’re muckin’ up the purity of Hell.”

“So what do we do?  They’re looking for Rathel too.”  

“Dunno.  If it was anyone else, I’d say get to work on Dorkon.  That’s one who has loose lips,” Angel Dust said, checking his makeup.  “He may be a little shit, but he’s the Von Eldritch’s little shit.  They don’t exactly like others t’ make fun of their clowns, ya know what I mean?”  

“Damn,” Liz sighed.  “So we can either cut our losses and sneak out of here or take a risk and use them to find Rathel.”

“It’s your call, doll,” Angel Dust shrugged all four shoulders.  

***

“Would you relax?  You did all that panickin’ and they were just on the john like I said,” Shard groaned. 

“Shut up, Shard,” Marty snapped, thumbing a text message to Liz.  “I’m calling this whole thing off.”

“What the fuck, man!?  They got a lead on Rathel!”  Shard grabbed the phone from Marty’s grasp.  

“I don’t want her anywhere near the Von Eldritch.  I want her out of there now.”

“Jesus Christ, she said it herself they’re fine.  What are you going to tell Tony Shark?  Telling him that Rathel is connected to the Val Eldritch will not be enough and you know it.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Marty didn’t know how to explain the sudden weight in his stomach that told him something was wrong, that something had happened to her inside.  He hated this feeling of helplessness or this restraint that kept him from running inside and taking her out of there, even if it was over his shoulder.

With his attention on the Midnight Song’s gibbous glow, he failed to notice the street darkening as shadows crawled along the walls and pavement.  A cane tapped the asphalt while tap-shoes clicked along while a low musical hum carried an old tune as the figure continued along the street, a pinstripe coat swayed with each step, catching a silent wind.  

Oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere and the figure strolling past the car, Shard was yelling at Marty.  “Are you out of your fuckin’ mind, Marty!?  Tony is going to bite your goddamn head off if you don’t pay your dues.”

“And I will!  But not at Liz’s expense!”

“She’s the reason why you’re in this mess!”  Shard hissed, baring his teeth in barely contained fury.  

“Give me back the phone, Shard,” Marty growled, tail lashing his legs and floorboard.  

“No,” Shard’s eyes were narrowed into yellow slits.  

Marty’s eyes began to narrow, then suddenly went wide.  “Shard . . .”

“What?”  

“What’s going on over there?”  Marty was pointing at something up the street behind Shard.  

“You've been watchin’ too many cartoons,” Shard retorted sardonically.  “If you think I’m just gonna turn around so you can punch me in the back of the head and get your phone back.”

“Goddammit, Shard, look at the club!  Look at the moon!”

It wasn’t much as the ferocity in Marty’s voice, but the fear in them that made Shard turn around.  The Midnight Song’s neon sign of the moon was blood red and people the people lined outside were fleeing for their lives in all directions.

A couple were charging down the street towards them.  Shard rolled down the window and stuck his head out.  “Hey!  What’s going on?  Why ya runnin’?”

A female demon with yellow fur stopped, but her boyfriend, a demonic horse, almost dragged her along in his haste to get away.  She managed to shout before being towed along, “The Radio Demon just went into the Midnight Song!”

“Oh shit,” Shard breathed.  “Marty . . .”

But Marty wasn’t there.  He was already sprinting up the street towards the Midnight Song, going invisible as he went.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Once A Year 3- Your Golden Lies [Billy Russo x Reader]

A/N: Hello my darlings! <3 I hope you’ll enjoy it, and please tell me what you think, kisses and hugs! <3

Summary: Bars are good places to meet old friends.

Warning: Explicit language, mentions of guns and violence. As usual, I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in this story.

Word Count: 2681

Due to the linking issue, the earlier chapters are on my masterlist<3

The next day after the shock wore off, you had only one thing in mind;

You had to find Billy, and lucky for you, you knew just where to start.

You took a deep breath as you pulled over in front of the building, staring at it. Even though you had never been there, internet had proven to be so helpful as always. You drummed your fingernails on the steering wheel, frowning slightly before you pushed open the door and walked to the entrance. You knocked on the front door, but when you could hear no one, you opened it.

“Hello?”

“Over here!” The familiar voice called out and you walked inside, flipping the keys in your hand before putting them into the pocket of your coat, and followed the hall that led you to a room with some chairs scattered along.

“We said we would start at-“ he stopped talking as soon as he turned to you and you put your hands into your pockets, looking him dead in the eye.

“Hi Curtis.”

“Well, it’s been a while,” he said as he put down a folding chair, “What, two years?”

“Something like that,” you said, without averting your gaze, “Did you know?”

“Straight to the point as always.”

You smiled slightly, “Hi Curtis, it’s very nice to see you, we should catch up sometime, you me and Billy and hey, maybe even Frank. Did you know?”

“If I had a dollar every time you or he came to my door, asking that question…”

You pulled your brows together, momentarily distracted,

“What?”

“I mean-“Curtis smiled, “He was in the hospital anyway, it’s not like he’d be able to join the engagement party.”

“Did you read the news?”

“Yeah. Then I listened it from him. You should try it sometime.”

You clicked your tongue, a bitter taste appearing in your throat,

“Subtle,”

“You could’ve let him know,” he motioned at your ring, “He would’ve. But I guess we all know it wouldn’t happen, huh?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You don’t?” Curtis asked you, “Not even a clue?”

“No no, it wasn’t like that at all!” You protested, covering Billy’s mouth while basically climbing on top of him, “Besides, he punched the guy-“

“Hell yeah I punched the guy!”

“So yeah, that was how I got dumped,” You told Maria as Frank let out a laugh.

“That sure sounds fun.”

“It didn’t feel fun when I had to ice the bruises on his face.”

Curtis scoffed, “You got beaten up, huh Bill?”

“You should’ve seen the other guy.”

“No come on you two, it’s sweet,” Maria said as you leaned your head on Billy’s shoulder out of habit and he relaxed his shoulder, slipping in his seat just a little so that you could be more comfortable. “Even if he got beaten up.”

“Yeah he was just looking out for his bro.” You held up your fist so that Billy could fistbump you while Curtis looked between you,

“His bro?”

“Yeah, he once called me his bro and it stuck,” you let out a laugh, “I mean obviously right now I’m not the only one, but hey, I got used to it.”

“Oh you know, with them it’s nothing,” Billy grinned, “I just didn’t wanna hurt you, but you’re the one for me.”

“Yeah, it’s just the thrill with them?”

“Exactly, and also, you know it’s in our biology babe,”

“And it’s not what it looks like?”

“Yeah I’ve just been very stressed lately,” he continued the joke and you let out a laugh as you put your bottle down.

“Next round’s on me.”

“Y/N, come on-“

“It’s one step closer to having you as my sugar baby.” You winked at Billy who made a face,

“You wouldn’t be able to afford me.”

“What’s there not to afford, your hair products?” You asked as Frank and Curtis wolf whistled, cheering you on and Maria rolled her eyes at them, then stood up as well.

“I’ll help you,” she said as she followed you to the bar, and you ordered the drinks.

“I gotta say,” she said as she leaned back to the bar, “When Billy said she was bringing a friend, I didn’t expect it to be just a…friend.”

“Oh yeah, I know.” You grinned, “He messes around a lot, but trust me, he’d never let you guys meet one of his flings. The moment when Billy introduces a girl to you, is when you know he will marry her.”

Maria’s eyebrows rose and you hesitated, what you had said just dawning on you.

“Oh no- not me, no. I don’t count.”

“Why not?”

“We just- we grew up together.” You shook your head, “We never- we never thought about each other that way.”

“Ever?”

“No way.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“What, we haven’t-“

“I’m sure he did, even if you didn’t,” Maria said as you grabbed the beer bottles, “In fact, let’s ask.”

“What- let’s not!” You called out but she was already making her way back to the table, so you rushed after him,

“So, Bill.”

“Hm?”

“You’re bros, huh?”

“Yeah?”

“And you never saw each other romantically?” she asked, “Even when you two were younger?”

Billy shrugged slightly, “Of course not,” he said and ruffled your hair, “She’s my Skittles.”

Jesus Christ, what was this?

You were being candy-zoned now?

Curtis scoffed but hid it by taking a sip while Frank just looked amused, and you nodded.

“See?” You asked, trying to keep your voice nonchalant, “I’m gonna be his best woman at his wedding.”

“So what I read on the news-?”

“Half true, half false.” Curtis stated, “Congratulations though.”

You pursed your lips together, “Thank you,” you said and took a deep breath, “Sorry if I was being aggressive, I just-“

“Wanted to know.” Curtis finished her sentence, “Yeah. No, I know. But Y/N-“

“Were you with him? When he first found out about um…” You trailed off and held up your hand,

“He was with his girlfriend.”

Your head shot up, “He has a girlfriend?” you asked, your stomach flipping for some reason, and Curtis smiled,

“You have a fiancé.”

“He didn’t-“ you closed your eyes for a second, “And is he… Is he safe?”

“Billy’s never been into safety, you know that.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but your phone started ringing, distracting you both. You looked down at the screen, then declined the call before looking up at him.

“Curtis I-“ You ran a hand over your face, “How did that happen? That whole gang thing- it doesn’t sound like him at all.”

He looked you up and down before motioning at one of the chairs;

“Why don’t you sit down?” he asked you, “You look tired.”

“I should-“

“Your phone calls can wait,” he said, “You look like you haven’t slept for a while.”

Even if you wanted to say no, you still found yourself pulling up a chair,

“I’ve never been to war,” You shrugged slightly, “I’m not one of your… guys. No need for a sharing session.”

“Never said you were,” he said, “You just look like you need somebody to talk to, that’s all.”

You crossed your arms, casting your gaze on the floor.

“Is he okay?” You asked him again and he shot you a look,

“You saw him. Lately, right?”

“Yeah but we-“ You paused, “We couldn’t exactly…catch up.”

“He’s okay,” he said, “He’s just- it’s been rough, I’m sure you can see why.”

“Where’s he now?”

“He’s staying at a place, near his gang’s…headquarters.”

“And you approve that? His recent-hobbies?”

“Since when someone’s approval or disapproval stopped Billy?”

You slipped a little in your seat, heaving a sigh, “You got that right,” you muttered, “It’s just that- the last time we talked, I was….”

“Not yourself. Billy told me.”

You looked up, “He noticed?”

“Of course,” Curtis said, “Anything you want to tell me?”

You could feel the discomfort making its way through your system but you pushed the thoughts back.

“Oh just- stress.” You managed to say, “Nothing to worry about. I’m more worried about my criminal best friend, to be honest.”

“He’ll be fine. You know how he is.”

Your phone started ringing again and you cleared your throat,

“You got an address, or a phone number?”

“Let me guess, he was in a hurry to make a dramatic exit so he forgot to give you his phone number.”

You made a face, “Some things don’t change.” You stated, and he shook his head and scribbled down on a paper, then handed it to you.

“Tell him to be careful, will you? He listens to you.”

“I’ll try,” you muttered before you looked down at the paper, “A bar?”

“That’s where he hangs out while they’re planning their next gig.”

You folded the paper, then put it into your purse, “Thank you,” you said, “Anything else you want me to tell him?”

“Tell him to stop being a dick and answer my calls.”

“That I’ll be happy to deliver.” You said before you got up, “I’ll see you around.”

“See you around, Y/N,” he said as you walked out, then grabbed your phone and touched the name and got into the car.

He answered on the first call.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There was no way he knew, yet you could feel the panic bubbling at the pit of your stomach.

“What?”

“About the robbery last night. You were there- what, you didn’t think I’d want to know?”

You leaned your forehead on the steering wheel, letting out a breath before raising your head.

“Carter-“

“Babe, you got attacked, you and your whole family!”

“It was nothing,” you said, “They just got the money and got out.”

“It’s all over the news!”

You shook your head, “It honestly was nothing.”

“You’re something else, Y/N….” he muttered, “Do you need me there? I know we said I’d come when I’m done here, but if you want-“

“No,” you cut him off, “No need.”

“If you’re scared, I want to be there for you.”

“I’m not scared,” you stated, and he let out a curt laugh,

“Of course not. When have you ever been scared of anything?”

You shut your eyes, feeling a headache making its way to your temples.

“I missed you,” you tried to sound sincere, but it sounded almost mechanic even to your own ears.

“I missed you too baby.”

Wow. Unlike you, he sounded sincere.

“Just grit your teeth, hm? I’ll be there soon, Italy is boring without you anyway.”

“Yeah,” you forced yourself to smile, “I love you Charming.”

Nailed it.

“Love you too baby,” he said, “I gotta go okay? Make sure to miss me more.”

“Will do.” You said and as soon as you hung up, the smile fell from your lips.

It was exhausting sometimes, honestly. Pretending that much.

“Small price to pay,” you mumbled yourself, then took a look at the address and started the car.

                                        *

The bar looked exactly like you thought it would. It was small, and it was poorly lit even by bar standards. No one important, with money or with some common sense would ever walk into this place, which you guessed was the exact reason why Billy had picked it.

He had always been observant after all.

And even you knew that you didn’t look like you belonged there, not in the slightest. You took a deep breath, threw your shoulders back and walked to the group at the corner of the bar, who looked way too involved in their business to hear the sound of your heels on the old wooden floor of the bar.

“Mind if I take this chair?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Billy whose head shot up the minute he heard your voice. The other men looked at each other, some mumbling something to one another but you just crossed your arms, while Billy eyed you up and down.

“Leave us.”

“Isn’t that the chick from-“

“Leave us.” Billy repeated and just like that, they scattered along the bar. You smiled calmly as you sat down across from him, making him narrow his eyes at you.

“Well, aren’t you quite the stalker?”

“I hope you can see the irony of hearing that from you,” You shrugged as you grabbed his beer, taking a sip.

“How did you know I was here?”

“You’re not the only one who can find people, Billy.” You placed the glass on the table, “Curtis told you not to be a dick, by the way.”

“Of course he did,” he said, before turning the glass and taking a sip just from the corner with the slight smudge of your lipstick, the small gesture sending a shiver down your spine but you forced yourself to focus.

“Any reason for this visit?”

“I wanted to see where I’d leave your invitation,” you said, looking around. You had no idea why, but the anger was already spreading through you, “You can bring your plus one, by the way. When do I get to meet her?”

Billy looked taken aback for only a moment before he smirked, “Sucks, doesn’t it? Hearing it from someone else.”

You shrugged, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, “So? When?”

“Soon,” he said, as if he was enjoying this, “I think you’ll like her. It’s good, you know. Having someone who cares about you.”

And just like that, the look in your eyes sharpened,

“You did not just say that,” your voice was low, “You didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I-you-” you tried to keep your expression stable, “You think I don’t care? This is me not caring?”

“I didn’t see you at the hospital, Skittles.”

“Fuck you Billy.”

He sucked in a breath, “Careful. People might think you’re losing your calm.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, still sitting up straight before you opened them and casted your unwavering gaze on him.

“I’m worried about you, asshole.” You told him, “That’s why I’m here. So yeah, this is me, caring about you.”

“So he’s in Italy?”

You rolled your eyes, “Billy-“

“When’s he coming?”

“Jesus Christ…” You muttered, “What’s with the gang?”

“What’s with the fiancé?”

“I asked you a question.”

“So did I,” Billy said, and you heaved a sigh.

This was the exact reason why when you and Billy had a fight, it was always terrible. Neither of you knew how to back down, but instead kept pushing and pushing stubbornly, until it got out of hand.

And it always got out of hand.

“You’re being careful, aren’t you?” you asked him, and the look in his eyes softened.

“Are you really worried?”

“No, I just like hanging around trashy bars just to see my best friend and his criminal buddies.”

He thought for a moment, “Will you tell me to stop?”

“I know you too well to know it wouldn’t work,” you said, “So no. But I want your word that you won’t get caught.”

He pulled his brows together, as if he was surprised,

“You’re serious,” he said, “You won’t tell me to stop.”

“You have your choices, I have mine.”

His dark eyes searched yours, silence falling upon you for a moment,

“What the fuck happened last year, Y/N?”

You could already feel the burning behind your eyes but you scolded yourself in your head, blinking a couple of times and making sure your face showed no emotions.

“I have your number,” you told him. “I will call you, we will meet just like the old times, and you will tell me the whole story of what happened to you.”

He heaved a deep sigh and you pushed your chair back, then stood up,

“Do you love him?” he asked you and you raised your brows.

“Make sure to pick up the phone.” You smiled at him, “Beer tastes horrible, by the way. Next time pick somewhere better.”

With that, you walked out of the bar, leaving him behind.

  Special thanks to: @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @marauderskeeper  @asongofmarvelanddc @thorohdamnson @mellxander1993 @papercloudx @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @superwolfchild-fan @billyrussotiddie @lostkizzy @anxietysucks @finnickfoxes @luminex3 @rhabakoli @fictionalthrill @shadowhunterscloset @my-little-dumpster-fire @xpunishedx @aesstheticallypleasing  @utterlyhopeful@redrxbel @ilkaeliseb @rpo03 @pancakefancake @flowers-in-your-hayr @thescarsweleave @maelloute @we-are-all-wild-things @evilturtlemonkey @yesixoxo  @xinyourdreamsx @demoncrypt1066 @go-crybaby @i-am-always-famished @delicatelilyflower @nightxshadex201 @mamaraptor and lovely anons! <3 You’re awesome! <3

[balancingdiet]

Tabula Rasa

Detective Conan & Magic Kaito Characters: Shinichi/Kaito Words: 2000 ish Chapter: (1) ... (15) (16) (17)

Shinichi always finds his neighbour weird. But he didn’t expect to find his neighbour lying on a patch of grass and donned in Kaitou Kid’s costume, too.

The distance between Beika Street and Kuroba’s old hometown was considerably near, but it wasn’t the case between the latter and their current residence. And the distance only amplified when Shinichi didn’t have his car and had to walk to take the public transport.

But despite how Shinichi had to change a couple of metro lines before he finally reached the station to get off, he didn’t find the journey very long. Perhaps it was because he was lucky enough to get a seat in every cabin he entered, or that he didn’t bother to check the time on his watch or phone…

Or maybe because his mind had been so preoccupied about the scene at the clock tower the entire way home.

Shinichi originally wanted to bring the blue rose for reasons he wasn’t sure. As an evidence? For safe-keeping? But in the end, he didn’t. He only stood in the same spot when he first saw the bench and stared at the rose for a long, long while before deciding to head home. The rose’s presence was already enough to prove his intuitive sense correct, and he found no rights for him to touch the rose, much less remove it from the place it was meant to be.

“It’s a gift for someone.”

Hands in his empty pockets, Shinichi walked out of the station and down the familiar streets. This was also the first time he noticed the large space and distance between each of the street's lamppost, making the residential area darker than the others. Nonetheless, it was again another observation he made when he wasn’t driving in his car, but for the first time, he wasn’t sure what to make do with this random information he had—

Ah... At least now he knew if any of Kuroba’s doves ever went missing, the best time to find it would be during the night; from a distance away, Shinichi could already spot a white dove sitting on his mail box.

“Hey you,” Shinichi called out as he approached.

The dove stared at him.

Shinichi looked over at Kuroba’s house. There were no lights on. “Where’s your owner?” he asked.

It cooed.

Shinichi sighed, not at anything but himself for his idiocy of trying to get an answer from a dove, again.

Deciding an alternative method of communicating, Shinichi unfastened the latch and tentatively took out his mail, and at the last moment, he waved it in front of the dove. But besides looking at Shinichi with its beady eyes, it showed no reaction.

“Since you didn’t steal my mail, I supposed he’s fine? ” Shinichi glanced at Kuroba’s house again. “Or maybe he hasn’t even reached home yet.”

The dove cooed.

“Thanks for the reply,” Shinichi mumbled as he began flipping through the mails. There were bills, bills, another postcard from his mother…

“Hey,” Shinichi said as he stuffed the rest of his uninteresting mails back into the mailbox and leaned a little closer to the dove. “Do you happen to know who this person named Aoko is?”

“…”

“It isn’t hard to know this person is important to Kuroba, but I also have a feeling that she’s…” Shinichi bit his lip, feeling the end of his throat tightened at the thought of the word. He lowered his gaze and stared at his hand—the hand he remembered Kuroba clung so tightly onto during that night he fell.

“I’m so… so sorry.”

Shinichi tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but that pain and tightness didn’t go away; it moved to his chest instead.

The dove cooed.

Shinichi glanced up. “Yes I’m alright—“ He blinked, staring questionably at the dove for a few seconds. “Uh, were you asking me if I’m alright?”

It cooed again.

“I think I’m going crazy.” Shinichi rubbed a thumb between his brows. “Anyway, who exactly are you? Hiro? Curry? Or Tama—”

“It’s Tamago.”

With how fast he turned his head, Shinichi thought he might snap his neck.

“You—” Shinichi backed a few steps away from Kuroba and scowled. “Why did you creep up behind me like that?”

“I didn’t,” Kuroba said as he took a bite out of the chocolate bar in his hand. “Don’t pin the blame on me when you’re a scaredy-cat.”

“I’m not a—” Shinichi shook his head; he had much more important questions on hand than replying Kuroba’s insults. “Since when were you behind me? And how much have you heard?”

“Now I’m curious.” Kuroba tilted his head. “Should I have heard something?”

“No.”

“Huh.” Kuroba glanced between Shinichi and Tamago. “Did you two badmouth about me?”

“If that would satisfy you, then yes, we badmouthed you.”

Kuroba gasped and theatrically placed a hand over his chest. “I thought I’m your best neighbour,” he said, before looking at Tamago. “And I just fed you your favourite sunflower seeds less than half-an-hour ago. Is this how you repay me?”

Half-an-hour ago? Shinichi glanced at the snack in Kuroba’s hand. “Where did you go?”

“I went to get myself some treats.” Kuroba raised his half-eaten chocolate bar before revealing his pocket full of other sweets. “You want one?”

“No.”

Shinichi figured if he continued to pry about how much Kuroba had heard, he would only be digging his own grave throughout the conversation. But it was hard to figure out the answer from Kuroba’s reaction, or rather, from the lack of it. Not to mention when Kuroba's side hobby and talent involved disguising as people on a casual basis too…

Kuroba raised an eyebrow after he finished stuffing his sweets back into his jeans. “Are you okay?”

Shinichi blinked. “Why did you ask?”

“You look constipated.”

“I’m not.”

“If you’re not constipated, then I guess it’s one of the three reasons that make you act like you’re constipated.” Kuroba lifted a finger. “One, you’re upset about the aftermath of a case; but I didn’t see any news about murders today, so I guess not.”

“I—”

“Two.” Kuroba gestured to the mailbox. “Tamago didn’t poop on it. So that’s out.”

“Hasn't pooped sounds better," Shinichi warned. "Since you fed it half an hour ago, it might happen anytime soon.”

Kuroba rolled his eyes, but his face grew serious again as he showed the third finger in the air. “Three.” Kuroba paused. “It is because of Mouri Ran?”

Shinichi stared back in silence.

“So it’s about her.” Kuroba lowered his hand. “Have you gone to find her?”

“Speaking of which.” Shinichi crossed his arms in defiance. “You didn’t tell me that she came.”

“I couldn’t possibly break the promise I made with a fine lady like her, can I?” Kuroba grinned as he took the last bite out of his remaining chocolate bar before crushing the wrapper in his hand. “So, since you know about this, it means you did find her.”

“Yeah.”

The scrunching sound in Kuroba’s hand stopped. He looked perfectly still— almost like a statue.

“Then,” Kuroba began, “did she forgive you?”

Shinichi nodded.

In an instance, Kuroba’s face split into a huge smile, and it was filled with so much relief and bliss that for a moment, Shinichi almost forgotten if it was he or Kuroba that was forgiven by Ran.

“That’s great!” Kuroba said.

Shinichi nodded again.

The excitement in Kuroba’s face died away as fast as it came. He furrowed his brows as he observed Shinichi. ”Shouldn’t you be feeling happy about it? What’s with your reaction?”

“What reaction?”

“Like this.” Kuroba then drooped his eyes and showed a pursed lips.

Shinichi frowned. “I don’t look like that.”

“You need a mirror.”

“No.”

“It’s not a question.” Kuroba whipped out one from his sleeve and showed it to Shinichi’s face. Indeed, Shinichi looked exactly like what Kuroba had mimicked, much to his annoyance.

“I’m fine.” Shinichi pushed the mirror away.

Kuroba scoffed before looking at Tamago, who had been sitting on the mailbox silently all these while. “Looks like somebody is moody.” Kuroba not-so-subtlety pointed at Shinichi.

But Shinichi wasn’t going to react or rebuke to Kuroba’s taunts; there was actually nothing else for him to say, because in truth (and how strange that Kuroba got it right), those three reasons should be the only three reasons that could ever make Shinichi upset, but there was a fourth one—one that Shinichi could never let it be known.

At least not to Kuroba.

Besides how time doesn’t heal all wounds, words can reopen them too.

So how could Shinichi possibly tell Kuroba that he knew everything—about his unconscious apology, the hospital conversation and the blue rose in front of the clock tower—and that he was also upset and frustrated at himself for the lack of his abilities to pull Kuroba out of his sad, sad misery?

He didn't want to be that guy again.

“Um…” Kuroba leaned back and cast Shinichi a side-long glance. “Are you really pissed though?”

Shinichi rubbed a hand down his face, hoping to wipe whatever expression Kuroba was seeing to think of that thought. “I’m not.”

Kuroba nervously hummed, before pulling out a candy from his pocket and gave it to Shinichi. “Maybe this can help?”

Knowing it would do better to accept than reject, Shinichi wordlessly took Kuroba’s offer and popped the sweet into his mouth.

”Feeling better?” Kuroba asked.

Shinichi had to swallow the sweet, to stop a sudden lump that was threatening to rise in his throat again. He looked at Kuroba’s curious and unblinking gaze, and wondered why, even when his own life wasn’t exactly full of sunshine, Kuroba could still be concerned over Shinichi, and even foolishly offering a sweet so it would make him feel better.

More than that, Kuroba even talked to Ran.

And he encouraged Shinichi to talk to Ran too.

“Thanks, Kaito,” Shinichi said.

(And it wasn’t just for the sweets.)

It was as though the world stopped for a second, and then Kaito blinked. “Di-did you just call my name?”

Shinichi smirked; it felt like a privilege to hear Kaito stutter for once. “I did.”

Kaito fished out a handful of sweets from his pocket and laid them out in his open palm. “Are these poisoned? Or are they actually drugs?” he muttered.

“They are nothing but diabetes,” Shinichi said.

Kaito looked at him, askance. “You’re being really weird today. Did Mouri Ran hit your head or something?”

Shinichi ignored him and gestured to the sweets. “You shouldn’t eat these junks at night.” He turned to Tamago. “Try to control your owner if you can.”

Tamago cooed.

Kaito narrowed his eyes at his dove and grudgingly shoved the sweets back into his pocket. “Betrayal.”

“I’m heading in.” Shinichi walked past Kaito and towards his house.

“Are you sure you don’t want to check your head?” Kaito yelled at Shinichi’s back.

“No,” Shinichi answered over his shoulder. “But you should check my mailbox after your dove flies off. I have a feeling it’s going to shit on it soon.”

As if cued, Tamago suddenly stood up, waddling its butt around for a while before departing off to Kaito’s balcony.

Kaito stared at the mailbox. “Oh.”

Just one word was enough to make Shinichi laugh.

“Do you need company?” Shinichi asked, but he didn’t wait for Kaito’s reply as he’d already turned and started walking back to the mailbox.

“Wow, how kind of you,” Kaito muttered. He then pulled a cloth out of one sleeve and a bottle of water from another.

Again, like always, the supposedly simple clean-up that wouldn’t last more than five minutes somehow turned to fifteen and eventually dragged to thirty. And in between, there would be jabs, laughters, and if Shinichi was a little lucky, he would get to know another random, yet surface-level thing about Kaito that day.

Maybe Shinichi didn’t have the power or ability to relieve Kaito’s pain, but maybe he didn’t need to do anything either. All he had to be was simply Kaito’s neighbour, the one whose mailbox got shitted on a lot, the one who needed reminders to water his plants, and the one who would agree to eat fried rice at each other’s house.

And maybe being just like the way they always were was the one and only best thing Kaito could ask ever for.

[abundantchewtoys]

Homestuck Candy p1-4

So, finally we've found the time to start reading the other epilogue, aka the Candy path.

You'd think COVID19 would have given us plenty of opportunity already, and yet... we always managed to fill our spare time with other stuff, XD.

But I think it's fitting that we'd start reading again, 11 years to the day after Homestuck started. Especially with the cherub theme of the epilogues. Not just the meat/candy dichotomy, either - apparently the books solved by VIZ Media feature a black & white Sburb logo as the symbol for these epilogues!

I wonder what differences both paths are going to be showing, and what twisted parallels. Are Dirk & Alt Calliope fully replaced as antagonists by an alternate Caliborn and... somebody else?

Crack theory: the Davebot shown in the final page of the epilogues is from the Candy path. :P I'm working from the assumption that the Candy & Meat path will merge at some point, though the Meat path kind of feels "more canon" to me, but then I'm biased for having read it already. Under that light, it would make sense that the final page would feature characters from both paths - and the Jade we saw seemed to be the Meat version of her Game Over self.

But I wonder how much the Candy path is going to stray over to the "Diabetes" side. I mean, it's pretty much a given everything is going to turn out a lot sweeter, but we know from the Trickster arc that that could delve into uncanny territory as well, no problem.

It stands to reason that there's going to be different POVs we didn't have in the Meat path, but even then, I think events will turn out differently on Earth C too. For want of a nail and all. For want of a John, the election was lost. So maybe with his continued presence, Karkat will be able to win. Then again, a lot is going to depend on who's the narrator(s) of this path, too. Dirk and Rose's evolution isn't just going to go away, now, is it? Unless the narrator replacing them (mis)uses their powers to depower their expanding awareness, of course.

In more immediate future events, no points for guessing John's clothes are going to become sticky and rifled with sugar bits from all the candy he's about to consume.

---

Page 1

What the SHIT.

Hahahahh, and directly we get a reference to how this path might be less influential, with John feeling less substantial.

And this talk about splinters and splitting leaf veins, hahah. It's possible the splinters were referring to Dirk and how his relevance might have become nullified now. And the splitting how, even if this timeline doesn't contribute to canon, Paradox Space MIGHT NOT CARE.

But then.

Roxy opens up to John, and they (she?) confesses how she was hoping for him to stay. It's a valid point to make - if they're no longer relevant, what's the use in fretting about things.

Though, then Calliope asks something of John that turns everything upside down. John freeing Gamzee?? I wonder if that means only freeing him X thousand years in the future, or retcon zapping him to then, when he would find Caliborn & Calliope's egg.

The more I think about it, the more it seems fitting. Candy John takes care of loose ends "outside" of canon, on Earth C, while Meat John went back into canon. It sheds more of a surreal light on Caliborn & Calliope's session though - they found a way to "re-enter" canon on their own! Also, they contacted canon from outside it - making them even more of a symbol for Homestuck's fandom and hatedom!

Now, Blaperile seems convinced that Gamzee's going to be given the time to make up with his friends and then finds the "serenity" (pardon the phrase) he has when we see him on LOCAM. Yyyyes, I mean, I can see how that'd work, but I'm with John - whether it's time for forgiveness or not, he's still a murderclown, even if he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms from sopor slime at the time of said murders.

---

Page 2

Well that happened.

Dear god though.

For a full minute I was actually genuinely convinced Gamzee was sincere, but yeah, like John says by the end - it really feels performative.

But, why in the blazes did Candy John go into canon after all? Didn't they bring the fridge along, then? Boy, this marks yet another split timeline, I guess, since now the fridge didn't go through all that bullcrap during [S] Collide. It also made Gamzee's suffering in the fridge less painful, well, physically, by a certain margin.

But I guess he did have some trouble breathing in there. Still, that's karma, seeing as what he did to Equius.

Note!

John contacted Terezi, and from the sound of the conversation it didn't seem all that exceptional that he could! While in the Meat path, they seemed to have been out of touch for a long time. So, like, does the Candy path in reality diverge a lot earlier than the Meat/Candy choice? (Well, from a certain viewpoint, I guess you could say the path diverges from the moment John went back to LOTAK to steal Gamzee, in fact. If you ignore the fact Earth C is outside of canon. So for want of a clown, the canonicity was lost, I suppose.)

If not, does this mean that this Terezi is the same as the one Meat John found? I seem to recall Terezi making some kind of weird remark to John regarding the time she spent in the blank remnants of the Furthest Ring. Does it retroactively mean she was talking to Candy John all this time?

Or are there now two versions of post-Collide Terezi, too? Ugh, gonna have to follow the MST3K mantra I think.

Gotta say, I REALLY wasn't expecting John to message her, of all people, but he's right! If anyone knows how to feel about Gamzee in a similar way, it's definitely her.

So, Blaperile voiced the theory that maybe Candy Calliope turns out to narrate the Candy path, and with how vaguely sinister and mysterious she's behaving, I'm inclined to agree. What, does that mean that this version of Dirk is going to take over the narration from her at one point? It would also mean that, from a certain viewpoint, Dirk & Calliope were narrating the epilogues in the exact same manner, until the Meat/Candy diversion point. Since Doc Scratch is kind of the Calliope to Lord English's Caliborn, and he shares slime DNA with Calliope's body & Dirk's mind, that's not that far out there.

---

Page 3

Wow. Okay, I started to think we wouldn't get any reference to Dirk's Ultimate Self narrator-overtake shenanigans from the Meat path.

But no. It seems Dirk is fully aware that he's no longer in the "relevant" path, and he's actually quite hung up about it!

He apparently immediately gives up on everything - his political plans, his fights with Jake - but I wonder why?? Does he know, in some immeasurable way, that whatever the Candy path has to contribute to canon in the end, it isn't that?

He also seems to acknowledge something is dreadfully bad right now.

It will just have to turn out whether he means something besides his own grand plans not having a chance of working out - or not!

I'm looking forward to him explaining just how John's choice will have an effect on EVERY living being on Earth C, and what that effect could be. (Crack theory - irrelevance is going to slowly start turning all of their personalities into caricatures, flanderized Trickster-like semblance. :P I might not even be half wrong in this!)

Does this mean that Karkat will still run for presidency, even? Maybe him and Dave still hear about Jane's cancelled plans and are inspired? If so, I wonder what'd be the unintentional bad effects of Karkat's presidential turn.

---

Epilogue Two Page 4

Well, now, if there ever was a page seemingly MADE to be read after the Meat path, it sure is this one!

Seems like Dirk's influence, or at least a certain foreboding sense of danger and stress regarding Rose's illness, was already making Kanaya and Rose slowly drift apart.

I know we're going to be seeing bad influences from the Candy path in due time, but for now, at least this makeup scene helps as a reminder that, whereever Rose and Kanaya ended up during the Meat path, they still have a chance to make amends later. (I do wonder how Dirk and Rose's narrative influence is going to be dealt with in Homestuck 2.)

---

This seems like a good, lethargic cathartic place to stop reading. I hope we're in for 28 more pages, since if I counted correctly, it would mean Candy & Meat together would then count 64 pages, aka 8x8. (Or 8^y, where y=2.)

[milkcartonbastard]

Release the Doves

Fandoms- My Babysitter's A Vampire (Benny Weir X Magic Reader)

Warnings/Notes- No warnings. This is a continuation to Magic and School Don't Mix (http://luddlebubble.tumblr.com/post/175394139088/magic-and-school-dont-mix)

Summary- You're better at magic than Benny, so you try and help him a bit. Fluff at the end.

~~~

   Whitechapel had to be the best place you had ever moved to. Everything was exciting and there was so much to do with your new group of friends. You'd already saved the town more times than you cared to count. Sure, you had originally hoped for a nice, quiet, and normal time here, but you were happier this way. You used your magic more often than not and it just made you feel so good.

   You watched your friends walk up to you, tired faces looking at yours. Sarah hadn't had a break since earlier in the month. She was studying for finals and fighting monsters in her free time. You knew she hated the whole vampire thing she had going on, but it always made her feel good to save someone. You wished she would feel better about her abilities, but you didn't really know all the details about what she was feeling. After all, you didn't have to drink blood to survive. You had your powers since birth, unlike how Sarah was bitten.

   "Hey, Y/n." Erica nodded her head in your direction before her eyes were caught by something behind you. "And hello lunch."

   You watched her fangs slip out and she took off down the street. You sighed, wishing her attention span was better. You and Sarah were standing outside of Ethan's house, waiting on him and Benny to hurry up. There boys had said there was a vampire threat at this place on the outskirts of town. Some rich vamp was throwing a party and was probably going to kill every human there if you asked Ethan. The boys compared it to some animal cube or something along those lines. You had your spell books and some little items in your crossbody bag. Benny had a similar bag hanging across his torso and you felt warmth rushing through your stomach and squeezing at your insides.

   You were so similar to Benny. You both liked the same movies, books, and music. Not to mention the fact you both loved magic more than anything else. It was just the warmth that flooded through your veins and the way it felt- like snow settling down on your body. You knew Benny felt the same way about it. Even though your Magic Tell was lighting and his was stars, you both had similar feelings. Benny smiled at you. His eyes were a soft green today and he was wearing a black and grey striped shirt. It looked nice on him, the way it was fitted to him. He was wearing skinny jeans as well, most of his clothing was semi-tight fitting- unlike Ethan who wore the baggiest of clothes.

   "Hey, Y/n! Are you excited to fight some blood-suckers?" Benny asked, not even cringing slightly at the thought of multiple vampires and a mass murder. He was always so excited to do some good. You laughed softly and nodded your head. Ethan trudged toward you guys, backpack on his back. You assumed all of his Nerf weapons were in there. He was pretty creative, making Nerf darts into little wooden pencil stakes. You had questioned him on how the foam darts were able to fly so far with rather heavy pencils in them. He had no answer.

   The five of you- Rory had joined in, taking Erica's place mostly- were off to the party. Ethan and Benny discussed a plan on the way there. You quirked in with suggestions when needed, but mostly just listened. Their plans were usually pretty good, even if they were pretty useless in battle. Rory, Erica, Sarah, and you did most of the work. Your magic was better than Benny's, but you assumed it was because you were taught magic from a young age and he had just been introduced to it a year or so prior.

   "So if you guys see any openings, stake him. We can't risk anybody dying, as per usual." Ethan finished out the plan as you all arrived at the big building the party was at. It looked like a mansion party or maybe a frat party. Were there even any frats in Whitechapel? You weren't for sure. You all entered, making sure to be aware of your surroundings. You all split up, weaving in and out of the crowd and trying to spot the Undead Host of the party. You walked by several people who were grinding more than dancing. It was pretty gross.

   You heard a whistle, a long low note and then a sudden, high pitched, note to end it off. It was the signal that somebody found the vampire you were supposed to be offing. You moved towards the direction the whistle came from, which was pretty difficult considering the loud music blaring all around you. You found who used the signal- Rory- and grouped up with the others. You saw the target and slowly pulled out one of your spell-books.

   Earlier in the day you had bookmarked a page about vampire revealing. You could hit them with the spell from far away, and if they were a vampire, they would get a grey ring around the outside of their body. It was better than pricking Ethan's finger- his blood smelled very good apparently- and hoping for them to fang-out.

   "Princeor mobile arc!" Your lighting mark shot out of your fingers, the others watching intently, hoping for him to burst into fire and die. You waited for the grey light to appear around him- but nothing happened.

   "He's not a vampire." Ethan and Benny looked confused. You told them about what the spell was supposed to do, telling them that he really wasn't a vampire.

   "We came here for nothing? Ah, man!" Rory shook his head and was gone in the blink of an eye. Sarah rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

   "Call me if anything changes or he kills someone." Sarah gave a small wave and started to walk away from Ethan, Benny, and you. Ethan jogged after her and he left as well. It was just you and Benny now. He was looking around awkwardly, like you two hadn't just been ditched at a mansion party.

   "Wanna go to the park or something?" The taller boy looked at you, eyes glimmering with some form of excitement. He picked at the strap of his bag that was pressed against his chest. You wondered if he had something planned.

   "Why the park?" You asked. His cheeks turned a cute shade of pink and his left hand started rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. You figured he was asking you on a date, considering how even more awkward he had become.

   "I- I don't-" Benny sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. It took him a second before he gave you a decipherable answer. "My magic isn't the best and you- you're super good at spells and I was wondering if you could help me?"

   "Yeah, yeah, of course I'll help." You smiled up at him, his face turning a darker shade of red and yours almost reaching a shade or two of pink. Some part of you wished he was asking you on a date, some strange feeling in your chest willing yourself to believe that's what he was going to ask you. He smiled back and you felt like melting.

~~~

   The park was deserted, probably because of the vampire problem in Whitechapel, so you and Benny laid your books out on the grass beneath some trees. The moon was full and tinted a darker shade of white, casting out bluish hues across the grassy area of Rosewood Park. The stars were bright tonight, making it a good night for Benny to perform magic.

   "So what is up with magic tells? You mentioned them when we found out about our magic." Benny was sitting with his legs crossed in front of you. You two had books cracked open between you. You licked your lips before speaking.

   "Magic Tells are specific to a witch or wizard. If you're around the object of your Tell, your magic tends to be stronger." You explained. You looked up at the stars and pointed. "For example, when you, specifically, preform magic, stars show that you are using your powers. So your Tell is stars. Thus, on starry nights, your magic is stronger. My Tell is lighting, meaning I'm stronger during storms. Do you understand?"

   Benny nodded before snapping his fingers, stars dancing and weaving between his fingers and rising slowly into the air- a rose appeared in his hand and he handed it to you with a nervous smile. You grinned, not being able to stop your smile from lighting up your face.

   "Thanks, Benvolio, I love it." You smiled but Benny shook his head.

   "Benvolio? Don't you mean Romeo?" Benny asked. You crinkled your nose and shook your head.

   "Benvolio is the only one who survives the play. I'd prefer you to be alive, thank you very much." Benny snorted when you laughed.

   "Who does that make you?" You thought for a second, barely being able to subdue the butterflies and bubbles swimming in your chest and stomach.

   "Whoever you want me to be." You had only meant to think the words, but they had slipped out before you could stop them. You hid you face behind your hands, too embarrassed to look at the cotton-candy eyed boy in front of that. The bubbles inside of you popped and the butterflies died and withered. God, you felt dumb. "Er- I mean-"

   "How about my girlfriend?" Benny's voice was soft and you felt his hand touch your arm gently. You slowly peeked through your fingers, not believing what you had heard. You thought that all of Benny's flirting had been playful, considering the fact that you thought he was in love with Erica. Sure, she'd never given him a second glance, but still. 

   "I would like that. A lot." You admitted. Benny grinned, his eyes crinkling at the side. You concentrated and cupped your hands together. You imagined the grass sitting in your palms breathing and turning white. When you opened your eyes, a dove cooed at Benny. It was sitting in your hands, but quickly decided it didn't want to be there. It flapped its wings a few times before going air-born and flying off. Benny laughed in awe.

   "You so have to teach me that one." 

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Yellow Curtains - Chapter One

Lucas Lallemant happens upon several people online who appear to be living lives quite similar to his own-- maybe even the same. (Or, all the alternate Isaks find each other online when Even becomes famous)

Lucas first saw the picture on his Instagram explore page, at three in the morning when Eliott was with his parents. He should have been sleeping, he supposed, but over the previous week they’d spent together his body learned to gel with Eliott’s at night. He could only sleep with his arm draped over Eliott’s midsection. This problem should have been fixable; he tried to wrap his arm around a pillow, or a bundle of comforter, but the fabric didn’t feel as warm and didn’t have a chest that rose and fell with each rhythmic breath. It wasn’t the same.

Hence, a late-night/early-morning browsing session.

He followed a lot of actors, meaning his explore page feed usually filled with photos from upcoming movies and low-budget indie films from all over the world. Eliott loved that kind of thing. He could sit and watch foreign language dramas, unsubtitled, for hours and hours commenting on the use of color in each scene and the smoothness with which each actor spoke. Lucas had never been one for cinema he couldn’t understand. He appreciated the concepts, and English wasn’t so bad to hear, but it wasn’t his niche.

Really, the only reason he followed so many actors in the first place was to keep up with Eliott’s obsessive interest in obscure titles with equally obscure directors and plot lines. He didn’t know half of the people whose pictures he liked.

 Well, he knew a few. Xavier Dolan posted a new photo. Lucas liked it without much thought. He would always appreciate the man who inspired his and Eliott’s art of a reunion, even if he’d never stayed awake through the entirety of one of his movies.

“It’s in French!” Eliott had yelled at him. “No subtitles! It’s in French!”

“Not my thing,” he’d replied.

“Dubstep wasn’t your thing either, and look at you now.”

“I don’t actually like dubstep, I just love you.”

Xavier Dolan earned his like for the sake of that conversation alone. Lucas treasured when he had the opportunity to tell Eliott how much he loved him in some sappy way. He scrolled down past Xavier Dolan’s post and into a section of related ones, probably all from similar directors. 

In the midst of his browsing, he found his attention drawn to a photo of two blond boys, standing together in a location tagged as Oslo, Norway. Call it fate, call it intuition, but he knew for sure something was different about these two people.

He tapped the photo so it took up most of the screen. One of the boys wore a gray sweatshirt similar to the one Lucas himself had in his closet. The other sported a jean jacket with a small pansexual flag pin on the pocket. The latter boy’s posture reminded Lucas of someone, although he wasn’t quite sure just who. He oozed confidence. If you looked at his face though, he seemed quite shy and timid. Lucas scrolled downward to read the caption.

 isakyaki Congratulations to my wonderful boyfriend, Even Bech Næshiem, on directing his first full-length movie. I love you and cannot wait to see everything else you have to offer.

 Even. The name stirred something in Lucas. He looked at the picture again. Which of the two was Even? Was it the taller boy with the jean jacket or the smaller one in the sweatshirt? He felt like he’d seen them both before, if only in passing, and surprised himself by feeling a tinge of resentment towards the shorter. Maybe they fought sometime? There was that whole mess with Alex, Charles, and those boys a while ago. He clicked into his Instagram messages and shot one to Eliott.

 lucallemant: Do we know Even Bech Næshiem?

 Eliott took a millisecond to reply.

 srodulv: he’s a director

lucallemant: yeah, but do we know him

srodulv: no???

 Huh. Go figure. Lucas turned his focus away from the photo. He accessed his home feed.

Emma and Alex were together tonight (or rather, last night) judging by Emma’s Instagram story. From what he heard from the girls on Sunday, they decided to be a legitimate couple instead of just a wild fling. He wondered what Yann thought about this development. The guilt was definitely still there, from when he made deliberate plans to break Yann and Emma up, because if he hadn’t said anything to Camille about the kiss then they would still be together. He was friends with Alex, sure, but the guy cheated. He’d done it once, and he would again. Lucas didn’t want Emma getting herself hurt anymore.

Chloe posted something yesterday afternoon, too. She must have gone out with Yann to some coffee shop within walking distance. Another thing to feel guilty about. Even though he didn’t totally forgive Chloe for telling everyone she could about him and Eliott, he knew he’d really screwed her over by pretending to be in love with her for so long. Regret-central on Instagram tonight.

He couldn’t force himself to move through everyone else’s posts. He’d probably seen the rest, and if he hadn’t then he obviously didn’t care very much about the people involved.

Instead, he looked back at the picture of Even from earlier.

Logically, he knew he couldn’t know either boy. They both lived in Norway, and one was supposedly somewhat famous, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen them both before somewhere—and not just in a foreign language movie.

 lucallemant: did we know him at one point?

srodulv: no

lucallemant: are you sure?

srodulv: pretty sure. why?

lucallemant: he looks familiar

srodulv: there are a lot of people on earth

srodulv: maybe you’re confusing him for somebody else

lucallemant: who would I be confusing him for?

srodulv: I don’t know

 Lucas looked into the poster’s profile. Okay, so the shorter boy in the photo was Isak. Even was the taller, then, the one with the crazy hair and the sweet smile. The familiar one. He scrolled through Isak’s photos of the two of them together, noting at one point a girl who looked a lot like Emma. Something fishy was happening here. He’d never seen these people before, and yet it was as if he had seen them every day for his entire life.

 srodulv: Could be the dynamic

lucallemant: what do you mean?

srodulv: they have our dynamic lol

srodulv: the artist and the grumpy one

srodulv:  ❤️ ❤️

lucallemant: haha

 Lucas turned off his phone and sat back against his headboard. Eliott had a point. He could recognize Even because he seemed similar to Eliott in interest and posture-- that’s what it was. His phone buzzed.

 srodulv: here, you can really see it here

 Eliott attached a YouTube link for something. An interview.

Lucas tapped to pull up the interview on YouTube and clicked on the subtitles. If he was to put them in French, they would be auto-generated. Auto-generated subtitles were never trustworthy, so he’d just have to watch the interview with English ones and fumble through the gist of what each person said.

“Where did the two of you meet?” asked the interviewer.

Isak laughed and turned to Even. “Do you want to tell him?”

“Kosegruppa,” said Even. “Thank you, Vilde.”

“And how did you get the chance to talk with him?”

Again, both Even and Isak shared a glance and a giggle.

“He took all the paper towels,” said Isak. “All of them. Then he asked if I needed one, handed me one from the trash, and invited me outside to smoke a joint with him.”

Lucas paused the video. He met Eliott at a group meeting, didn’t he? He first saw Eliott sitting in the back and they made eye contact for a beautiful moment. Afterward, when they met at the bus stop, Eliott took all the candy bars and offered to smoke a joint with him. That was… similar, to say the least. He made a mental note to Google kosegruppa later. He pressed play.

“And you found that charming?” the interviewer prodded.

Isak threw an arm over Even’s shoulders and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Of course I did. I was in love with him from the moment we locked eyes. I would have kissed him right there if it wasn’t for Emma.”

The interviewer leaned inward, closer to the two boys. “Who is Emma?”

“Emma is my ex-girlfriend.” When the interviewer looked concerned, he clarified, “It’s okay, we’re on good terms now.  Everything’s smoothed over. She sat down right next to us and started—”

“—sharing the joint!” Even finished. “It was so awkward! I couldn’t make her leave. But I guess things worked out in the end so… sorry, Emma!”

Again, Lucas paused the video. When he and Eliott were at the bus stop, the exact same thing happened with Chloe. The exact same thing. When he looked at Even’s easygoing expression again, he realized he’d seen the same one on his own boyfriend’s face dozens of times. This was starting to get a little creepy.

He closed the app before he could watch the rest, and sent another message.

 lucallemant: did you watch that interview?

srodulv: yeah

lucallemant: with subtitles?

srodulv: they didn’t have French

lucallemant: watch it

srodulv: it’s three

lucallemant: you’re not sleeping

srodulv: how do you know

lucallemant: you’re answering me

srodulv: maybe I am answering you in my sleep

lucallemant: they met the same as us. Watch the interview, please

srodulv: I can’t, I’m asleep

 If Lucas didn’t love Eliott so much, he could have strangled him.

He reopened the Instagram app to explore Isak’s profile once more. He could distinguish the main characters in Isak’s life from the posts: Even, three other boys, and the girl who reminded him of Emma. Maybe she was Emma, the Emma Isak referred to in the video interview. This was all too bizarre. He also was a part of a four-friend crew, had a tag-along in Chloe for a while, and had a first-and-only kind of boyfriend. Lives don’t get much more similar than that.

He figured he might as well send a message, ask about it. Isak probably wouldn’t even see it in his inbox, since he dated a film director and their relationship seemed to be quite popular. He would not even notice the new message on top of all the others.

Lucas typed the words into the box and hit send before he could convince himself to do otherwise.

 lucallemant: Hello, I saw your interview and it was kind of crazy. You met Even the same way I met my boyfriend, complete with an annoying intervention. If I may ask, did you ditch a double date to have your first kiss?

[mxsinistir]

Valentine’s Day (Sherlock x Gender Neutral! Reader)

Requested by sovereignoblivious

A/N) I was gonna publish this on Valentine’s Day but there was a school party and I ended up hanging out at my best friend’s house and I didn’t have my laptop so yeah. It’s here now though, so I hope you enjoy!

Request: a romantic and sensual Valentine’s Day one-shot of Sherlock x Gender Neutral! Reader (who are in an established relationship for like 3 years) where Sherlock and Reader have gone on a romantic date (Sherlock gives a bouquet of red roses given to Reader, Reader and Sherlock are dressed nicely to go to a fancy restaurant for their dinner date) and Sherlock has proposed to Reader and after they get back to 221B Baker Street, Sherlock tells Reader what I had put in my Valentine card and then they are kissing and touching each other.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Sherl!” You called out casually, strolling into the morgue with your hands stuffed into the pockets of your lab coat.

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend said, glancing up as you walked to stand next to Molly and Lestrade with a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re on about, but I called you to help me on a case.”

“Flowers?”

“What are you on about?”

“Candy, perhaps?”

“For some reason, Anderson gave a box of chocolate to Donavan this morning, so he has them, evidently.” He said obliviously, “Certainly Mycroft has sweets lying around; you could always ask him.”

You bit back a sigh, “You’re hopeless, babe.” You huffed, blocking out the apologetic looks that Lestrade and Molly were casting you from behind your back. You sat next to Sherlock, watching as he analyzed a sample beneath the microscope, hyper-focused on whatever his latest case entailed.

You weren't sure what you expected. In the three years that you had dated the younger Holmes brother, you had never once been praised like every other significant other on valentines day. Honestly, you felt absolutely single on February fourteenth. Part of you must have just assumed that this year would be different now that John Watson had come into Sherlock’s life.

Maybe part of you had expected some of that emotion to carry into Valentine’s day.

“I told Lestrade it was the backpacker, of course, he didn’t believe me,” Sherlock grumbled over the phone. You just rolled your eyes, murmuring some answer. On the other side of the line, Sherlock sighed. “Are you mad that I didn’t go all out or whatever for this idiotic holiday?” “It’s not just the holiday; it’s like you hardly care about me.” You tried not to sniffle. “Every day of the year,”

“Valentine’s Day is a marketing scheme,”

“It’s a day where you’re supposed to show your affection like a proper boyfriend. Or at the very least, lie about it.” You scoffed. “I’ll see you back at the flat. Molly asked me out to dinner. At least she had the decency to.” You hung up the phone, fuming, despite your better judgement.

You usually didn’t demand his attention. Usually, you were fine with supporting him from the background, even when he became focused on a case and forgot you or anybody else even existed. But for one day, he could remember that you did. Was that too much to ask.

It’s Sherlock Holmes, what do you expect? You told yourself, walking up towards the restaurant while wondering if he’d sent chocolate to Jim Moriarty. You strutted towards the front counter as you slipped through the door.

Molly had texted you earlier, apologizing for Sherlock’s behaviour and begging you to come to dinner for a girl’s night. She was single anyway, she told you. You agreed without putting up much of a fight, and she told you the name of the restaurant (packed with couples acting much happier than you) at which she had already claimed reservations.

“Reservation for Hooper?” You asked, and with some typing, the waiter pointed towards a candlelit table twelve.

And in the soft flame, you made eye contact with a tall brunet; seated and nervously texting somebody, looking around frantically until you walked in. He smiled, reaching under the table.

You had not expected Sherlock Holmes to be the kind of man to bring red roses to date, but you were over the moon.

“What, you didn’t think I’d come through for you?” He asked, handing you the bouquet as you took your seat.

“I don’t know if this is John Watson’s influence making you emotional,” You giggled, taking the flowers, “Of James Moriarty making you dramatic.”

“Both,” He decided, waving down one of the waitresses for wine and an order of fish. You asked for [Favourite Food].

“This place has got to be expensive,” You said quietly, still awestruck as you observed the facility, “Did you prove the innocence of the owner or something? That’s usually how you get discounts at all the other places you take me to eat-“

“No, but it’s not my problem. It’s all going on Mycroft’s card.” He said with disinterest, “I couldn’t give you much this morning because I needed to go to to the parliament building to run into him. He’s always been easy to pickpocket.”

“Nope, you’ve been at morgue all morning.” You called him out with a grin, “Try again,”

“Well, since my attempt to impress you has failed,” The younger Holmes sighed, “Anthea originally got the reservation for her and Mycroft - it’s never hard for her to pull strings, she can get in anywhere. Anyway, there was trouble with the NATO board, and so he’s busy. I asked for the favour, and then used one of Mycroft’s credit cards that I stole a while ago. He has so many that I doubt he even knows it’s missing.”

You laughed fully, making a mental note to thank Mycroft’s assistant later. You and Sherlock continued to make conversation through the evening until your stomachs and hearts will full.

After receiving the check and offering a generous tip to attack Mycroft’s credit celebrate Valentine’s Day, you walked back to 221b, hand in hand.

You ran your thumb over his calloused fingers with a ghost of a smile, looking up at him every now and then to see that he was already looking at you with though sparkling blue eyes and an adorable smile that you wished you saw more.

“Your eyes are dilated,” He noticed. Classic, romantic, Sherlock; you thought as his fingers left the embrace of yours, moving up to your wrist. “Would you like me to take your pulse, too, Valentine?” You giggled.

“Do you think Irene’s expecting candy from you?” “Well, I only do gestures for my favourite person.” He smiled, pecking you on the lips to get a soft giggle from you as you both kept walking.

“You know, John is out with his girlfriend, and Mrs. Hudson has gone out for the weekend,” Sherlock informed you as he closed the door to the flat,

“Good for them,” You said, walking over the kitchen counter to fill a vase of water for your new roses. You turned around to find your consulting detective right behind you, his arms snaking around your waist.

“I’m implying that we have the flat to ourselves,”

“Does it really take a genius to find that out?”  You said with a smirk, pushing up onto your toes and running your hands through his hair as your lips collided, bruising the calloused skin.

“You really are such a romantic, Sherlock Holmes,” You said, pulling away just for air as your arms lazily fell around his shoulders. Without any warning but a mischievous smile, he darted to hook his arms underneath your thighs, never stopping to look anywhere but your bright, smiling eyes.

“Well,” He remarked, “I try,”

[ezmodo]

Big Sisters 2

“Do I really have to do this?” Jaune groused.

“Yes!” three voices answered in unison. Saphron was flanked by her wife Terra and Jaune's it's-not-like-that-she's-just-my best friend Ruby. There would be no escape.

“Stop whining and move a little to the right, you're blocking the hole. And hold that sign straight!” Saphron snapped, lining up the shot with her scroll. She'd decided to have this one printed and hung at that very spot once the wall was repaired. Or maybe she could leave the damage and hang the picture over it? That would tickle her to no end, but she doubted Terra would go for it.

“I mean, if you don't want to so badly then you could pay to have the wall fixed.” Terra offered, causing Jaune to flinch. Apparently damage caused by hissy fits were not covered under their homeowners insurance.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook with just this, buster!” Ruby added.

Saphron snickered at that. Ruby had her arms crossed and cheeks puffed, trying to look intimidating. She still wasn’t entirely clear on what had caused her brother to put a hole in her wall and subsequently landed him in the doghouse with Ruby. Judging by the sparkle in Ruby’s eye, however, Saphron thought that it wouldn’t last much longer. She looked like she was putting on a mean face more to keep herself from smiling than anything else.

Jaune looked suitably miserable for his picture. Shoulders slumped and eyes looking away from the damage he had done, he held the sign up as Saphron centered her shot, making sure the words were readable.

I threw a temper tantrum.

Saphron snapped the photo and nudged her two accomplices so they could admire her handiwork. Terra nodded in satisfaction, Ruby barely concealed a giggle.

“Please tell me that’s good enough,” Jaune whined, squirming uncomfortably. He always cowed to his sisters’ demands but he could be such a poor sport about it.

“This’ll do,” Saphron allowed, “for now. Here, give me that sign. Ruby, you go stand next to him. I want pictures while I can get them.”

Ruby skipped over to Jaune and took the sign from him, handing it back to Terra. It looked like Ruby already had a pose in mind. She stood at Jaune’s side, underneath the damage he had caused. She raised both hands and pointed back at the wall, a look of exaggerated shock on her face. Saphron laughed as she readied her shot. Jaune covered his eyes with his hand in frustration as she took the photo. Ruby followed that up by covering her mouth with her hands, looking up at Jaune in mock horror. Saphron took another.

“Oh come ooooon, Jaune!” Ruby complained. When he didn’t respond, Ruby dug a finger into his exposed side, causing the boy to yelp and jump away. She advanced on him, hands extended and fingers wiggling menacingly. “You have to smile for pictures!”

“Don’t you dare, Ruby,” Jaune whimpered, literally backed into a corner.

She sprung at him, hands a blur. He writhed and squealed with each successful poke and prod, begging her to stop. Jaune tried to meet her attacks with his own, causing the two to devolve into a mass of laughter and shouting, forgetting their audience.

Saphron had switched over to video when the tickle war begun and she watched happily, heart full to bursting. So wholesome! So pure! So damn ADORABLE! This was happening. She needed this to happen. She looked to Terra, beaming.

Her wife sighed and gave Saphron a tired smile. They had talked about this at length the night after they had cornered Jaune in the bathroom. Terra hadn’t fought her on it but did urge Saphron not to push too hard lest the whole thing backfire.

Saphron stopped the recording and cleared her throat loudly, interrupting their battle. Jaune and Ruby froze simultaneously, finally turning their heads to realize they weren’t alone. Their hands were on each other’s waists, faces red from exertion. Saphron took the damning photo with the sweetest smile she could muster.

The teens practically leapt out of each other’s arms. Jaune, having nowhere to go, slammed back into the wall, earning a sharp “Watch it!” from Terra. Ruby practically vanished and appeared several feet away, flower petals floating to the ground around her.

Saphron’s smile turned predatory. “Okay, now let’s-“

“Jaune,” Terra cut in, “let’s go get Adrian up from his nap. I don’t want him to stay up all night.”

“Greatidealet’sdothat,” he babbled as he scrambled away to safety. Terra looked to her wife and mouthed too hard as she followed Jaune out of the room.

Saphron huffed impatiently. How was that too hard? They were being so ridiculously cute all on their own. She turned her attention to Ruby, who was busy distracting herself by fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, face as red as her namesake. This is too much fun, she thought, but maybe I should dial it back a little.

“Ruby?” she said, as she moved over to the couch. “I have some more photos that I didn’t show the other day. Mostly family stuff. Wanna see?”

“S-sure!” Ruby squeaked, smoothing out her skirt as she went to join her.

---

“C’mon big guy, time to wake up.”

Terra leaned down into the crib, rubbing circles on her son’s back. The boy squirmed under her touch and let out a huge baby yawn that she loved so much. She tugged down the back of his diaper and found him clean and dry – bullet dodged for uncle Jaune, who hung back in the corner, embarrassment still plain on his face from being caught earlier.

“You lucked out,” she told him, “no diaper change needed.”

She saw Jaune sag in relief before lifting Adrian to her shoulder. The boy nuzzled into her neck immediately with a whine, not ready to wake yet. Terra turned for the door, calling back to Jaune. “Let’s go. Leaving Ruby alone with your sister is just asking for trouble.”

Jaune mumbled something under his breath as he followed her back to the living room, where they found Saphron and Ruby side by side on the couch. Ruby had a tablet in her lap while Saphron pointed things out on it excitedly. The girls shared a laugh and looked up as Terra approached.

“Someone’s still sleepy huh?” Saphron said, standing and taking her son from Terra. “Let’s get our baby bear some juice,” she cooed as she turned to Jaune. “Grape’s his favorite.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jaune groaned as he trudged off towards the kitchen. Ruby watched him go with a half-smile on her face, eyes lingering until he was out of sight. Was she checking him out? Terra glanced nervously at her wife. The look on Saphron’s face made it clear she thought the same, but before she could strike Terra moved to cut her off.

“So! What are you showing her this time?” Terra asked, taking a seat next to Ruby to look at the tablet. It was a family picture, the entire Arc clan at a pond somewhere. A battle was being waged. Her father-in-law, waist deep in the water, grappled with the twins. The others were armed with water guns and other toys as they fought. A tiny Jaune watched from the sidelines, his mother carrying him on her hip.

Saphron joined them on the couch, taking the other spot next to Ruby. She glared briefly across at Terra for spoiling her fun but relented with a smile as she began bouncing Adrian gently on her knee to try to rouse him.

“He was a bit of a mama’s boy,” Saphron admitted before kissing her son on top of his head. “Just like somebody else.”

“I think having two moms kinda guarantees he’ll be a mama’s boy,” Ruby giggled. She lowered her voice conspiratorially and glanced towards the kitchen to make sure the coast was clear. “But Jaune totally still is one.”

“Oh? Spill!” Saphron whispered excitedly, scooting in closer. Terra rolled her eyes at that. Saphron could revert back to gossipy schoolgirl mode at the drop of the hat, even with her son in her arms.

“Welllll, we met on the first day at Beacon. I was having a pretty rough go of it, but he told me something that really helped,” she said, smiling to herself. “’Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet.’ He said his mom taught him that. It was so dorky but it really helped, you know?”

What was Mama Arc teaching her children? Terra thought cynically. It’s a miracle Jaune didn’t get picked up by a windowless white van with “Free Candy” written on the side.

Terra caught the gleam in Saphron’s eye. “And that’s when you started to fa-” she started, before Jaune’s voice cut in from the kitchen.

“Where are the cups?” Jaune shouted. “And I’m not seeing any grape juice in here.”

“To the left of the pantry!” Saphron shouted back. “Juice is in the door! So,” whipping her head back to Ruby, “when did you two first k-”

“None of these cups have lids, Saph! And I think you’re out of grape juice!”

Saphron growled as she bit her knuckle in frustration. She looked to Terra, pleading with her eyes, but Terra just shook her head. With a huff Saphron passed her son to Ruby and rose from the couch, stomping towards the kitchen.

Flustered, Ruby held the boy at arm’s length. Her eyes darted between the child and his mother, panic starting to set in.

“First time? Don’t worry, he won’t bite. Well, he will if you give him something to bite,” she joked.

“I, uh, just don’t, uh,” Ruby stammered, “I don’t know how to, uh, baby.”

“Relax,” Terra urged. “He’s not a Grimm. He’ll get comfortable himself and you just make sure he doesn’t fall off the couch and crack his head open on the table.”

Terra saw Ruby’s eyes widened in fear and groaned. “I’m joking. Here.” She took Adrian, turned him around, and sat him properly in Ruby’s lap. “Not brain surgery.”

Her son giggled in delight as he leaned back into his new chair, looking up and reaching for Ruby’s face. Ruby stiffened and leaned away from the boy’s grasp.

“Don’t like kids?” Terra asked.

“It’s not that,” she admitted, “I just never really dealt with them before.” Adrian began pulling at the top of her corset, causing Ruby to squeak. She quickly went to hold the clothing in place when he switched his grip to her hands, laughing and tugging.

“Sorry,” she mumbled ashamedly, unable to meet Terra’s gaze.

Terra poked her son in the stomach, eliciting a squeal and a much needed distraction from Ruby.

“Don’t be. I didn’t like kids either until this guy here. They’re gross and noisy and grabby,” Terra chuckled. “He still is. But there’s more to it too, but you’ll figure that out one day.”

“Figure what out?” Saphron interjected, sippy cup in hand. “Awwww, is Adrian hanging out with auntie Ruby?”

Ruby sighed in relief when Saphron handed the cup to the boy and he immediately went to town, leaning back into her once again but with both hands occupied by his drink. Terra watched as Ruby looked to Jaune as they both smiled awkwardly at each other.

Guess I can lend a hand once in a while, she thought, rising to her feet.

“Switch me spots, Jaune.” Turning to Saphron, she asked, “How about one more picture?”

Jaune groaned but still followed her direction, plopping down next to Ruby.

“Sorry about this,” Jaune mumbled.

“…just a picture,” she said quietly. “No big deal.”

Terra stood behind Saphron as she readied her scroll. “Okay you two, scooch in a little. Pretend like you like each other!” Saphron teased.

The two teens made no move to scooch anywhere, leaving a fairly obvious gap between them.

“Terra?” Saphron asked sweetly. “Could you help them please?”

Terra moved around to the back of the couch, leaning and reaching around until a hand was on each of their shoulders. “The sooner she gets what she wants the sooner you can run away,” she whispered as she pulled them closer to each other.

Jaune and Ruby relented and moved in so their shoulders were pressed together. Saphron gave her the OK sign and Terra moved back to her side. They looked awkward, stiff, and red in the face, but she figured Saphron actually liked it that way. Adrian was happily wiggling in Ruby’s lap, swinging his now empty cup in front of him.

“Here we go. Oh Adriaaaan,” Saphron cooed, “Look at mommy! Look here! That’s my boy! Picture time!”

Adrian waved his arms frantically, laughing like mad. “Big smiles from the happy family!” Saphron cheered. Terra to winced at her obviousness. “One, two, thr-!”

Their son suddenly whipped both hands upwards excitedly. The sippy cup caught Jaune in the mouth and his tiny fist landed squarely on Ruby’s nose.

Both teens jerked back, hands going to their faces. Adrian just kept on flailing and giggling, worked into a fervor by Saphron, oblivious to the blows he had landed. Saphron started to laugh, nearly doubling over with humor. Terra peaked over her shoulder to see how the picture came out.

Saphron’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Jaune’s eyes were wide as the cup made contact with his jaw and Ruby had one eye clenched as the boy socked her in the nose. Adrian himself smiled radiantly.

Happy family indeed, Terra thought amusedly. I'll give it to Saph, though. They are cute.

Saphron’s laughter slowly died down as Terra looked towards her unfortunate victims. Ruby had gone stock-still and ashen-faced. Jaune’s face crinkled in disgust as he leaned away from the girl.

“What’s the matter?” Terra asked, looking between the two.

“I-I-I-I think he just…” Ruby stuttered.

Saphron snorted. “He just drop a bomb on you?”

Jaune nodded rapidly, fingers pinching his nose.

“Well Jaune, you know the drill.” Jaune groaned at his sister’s suggestion. “You can take Ruby with you, show her how it’s done.”

“C’mon Ruby,” Jaune grunted as he swung to his feet. Ruby rushed to follow, holding Adrian out as far as she could in front of her.

“Thanks!” Saphron called after them sweetly. “It’ll be good practice for when you guys have one of your o-HEY!”

Terra delivered a swift swat to her wife’s rear to silence her.

“Too hard?” Terra asked teasingly.

“Whatever.” Saphron grumbled, rubbing the sore spot. “At least I'm not locking them in the closet together.”

[isyancialtan]

[follows this]

The text came as his students were leaving, and thinking it’d be Nilufer’s reaction to the class picture, Sarp reached for his phone.

 But instead it was Hana: When can I see you again?

 “Who’s that?” Luli demanded, halfway through putting her coat on.  

 Startled, Sarp looked up, reaching to help her find her sleeve in an attempt to look nonchalant. “Just a friend.”  A friend, yes—but in a sudden dash of hope, he thought, maybe not just a friend.  They’d find out, anyway, wouldn’t they?!

 “Ha!”  Luli grabbed his arm.  “If somebody makes you smile like that, you keep them!”

 Luli’d been married for fifty-seven years, so Sarp figured she knew what she was talking about.

 After the classroom was empty, he texted Hana back: Tonight?

 Maybe it was too soon; maybe she’d think he was rushing things; maybe she still wanted to try backing off.  But after a few stressful seconds, she replied, I’m free after five :)

 He couldn’t help the grin that broke over his face—one that lasted while he suggested a pizza place near the coffee shop they’d visited before (where they’d had their first date, he wanted to say, but he pushed that thought down) and she agreed to meet him there. And the feeling of buoyancy stayed with him all day…at least, until he approached the restaurant and saw her waiting outside, and although his heart leapt to see her there was also apprehension, and something desperate and pleading and hopeful.

 It took effort not to kiss her cheeks—especially when the night before she’d said his not doing so had worried her—but she’d told him she had to think about everything, and he’d told himself so many times that day that he couldn’t push her.  That he had to respect her space and give her time.

 But he did offer his hand and a half-smile, searching her eyes.  “Friends?”

 “No.”

 He stared at her, stricken—had she wanted to meet just to break up in person?

 But then she smiled, and the glow in her eyes was enough of an answer.

 Laughing, he surged toward her, cradling her face and kissing her forehead and then just pressing his forehead to hers, both of them grinning at each other, oblivious to the crowd streaming down the sidewalk or the diners watching through the windows or anything except each other.  “Okay,” Sarp murmured, and Hana echoed, “Okay.”

 When they finally made it inside, talking was easy again—about their days, about their weekend plans (Sarp was teaching a class on Saturday; Hana’d promised to go shopping with Pauline after Mass on Sunday, “because she wants a new outfit for when she meets Rob’s parents,” she explained)—about interesting coworkers and their cultures and their favorite parts of New York.  It was only when the second set of lights in the restaurant turned on, a response to the darkness that’d crept in without either of them noticing, that they realized how late it was, and Sarp said, “That class tomorrow—it’s at the Culinary Institute, out of the city.  Do you want to come with me?”

 For a moment, Hana faltered. “How far is it?” she asked finally, instead of giving an answer.

 “About ninety miles,” he said, “I have to leave around nine, and the class is noon to three.  But look.”  He reached for his phone, searching for a photo from the last class, and passed it over to her—a group of beaming elementary-schoolers, each holding a chocolate or two, one boy draped over Sarp’s shoulders as he crouched among them.

 “Oh,” she said softly, looking at the photo and after a moment zooming in on something—someone’s face, surely, but he couldn’t see whose, and he guessed it didn’t matter.  What mattered was that she looked interested, in him or in the kids or the candy.

 “It’s a different group this week, but the same school,” he explained—and then, although it was hardly necessary, “They’re very cute.”

 Then he grinned.  “And now you’re an experienced chocolatier.  I could use an assistant.”

 Matching his smile, Hana teased, “Do you give the children pear brandy?”

 “No one’s asked for it yet.” He laughed.  “They care more about how it looks, if they can make swirls of white chocolate or caramel or something else they think looks cool.”  Tipping down the phone she still held—it was zoomed to his face, and she blushed—he scrolled over to show a little girl in an oversized t-shirt and a proud grin.  “She wanted frosting on top,” he said.

 “Did you let her?”

 “Of course.”  He shrugged, a wicked glint in his eyes.  “I didn’t know they had a long car ride home until after she ate a few.  She was probably bouncing off the walls.”

 Hana giggled, and Sarp rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward and watching her.  This, he thought, felt comfortable—talking and laughing and watching her laugh, no matter how much time they had.

 “Have you ridden a motorcycle?” he asked after a minute, after they’d both had a bit more pizza.

 She stopped chewing, looked at him, and swallowed, her forehead furrowing in what looked like the beginnings of understanding and maybe dread.  “…No?”

 He grinned.  “Then tomorrow will be your first time.”

 She grimaced, and he was quick to assure her, “I’m a good driver!”  Pulling out his wallet, he tossed his license on the table, then the permit that made it valid outside Turkey.  “See?!”

 She narrowed her eyes, looking less than thrilled but not saying no.  Her lips twitched in amusement at his license photo—it looked like a mugshot—and she pointed to the Turkish writing on the IDP.  “What’s that mean?”

 “It says what I’ve been arrested for,” he told her.  “The time I’ve spent in jail.  It’s a warning never to let me drive anyone anywhere.”  

 His eyes sparkled over the rim of his glass, and when he’d put it down he explained, “It says, ‘International Driving Permit,’ and that’s ‘International Road Traffic Convention, 1949’--whatever that is.”  Pointing to the line below, he said, “That means I got it in Istanbul.”

 It was strange to think she’d have no concept of the place he’d grown up; just like he hadn’t known anything about New York besides what he’d seen sometimes in movies.  But little restaurants like this; the gym; the fact that Hana lived in Astoria, Queens, New York City, New York, United States and was kind and humble and had beautiful eyes?  He’d had no idea.

 And he wanted to say: “One day you should visit me.”

 But even if they were giving each other a chance, even if they were something more than friends, they were something less than forever, at least right now, and he couldn’t keep pushing for more than that.  So instead he asked, “What was your neighborhood like in Slovakia?”

 And she told him about that and then asked about Istanbul; they talked about places they’d been and they missed and the people they’d left behind.  And when it grew too late to ignore and they finally stood, walking into the chilly night air and heading for the subway station, Sarp asked, “So—are you coming tomorrow?”

 Please, he thought.  But also, don’t push her.

 And Hana sighed. “Well,” she said, a grin tugging at her mouth, “I suppose I should make sure you don’t let any other kid drown their chocolate in frosting.”

 Laughing, he nodded. “Yeah, I think you should.”

 “For their parents’ sake.”

 “Right.”

 They grinned at each other. “Can I take you home?” Sarp offered, and then, a faint flush coloring his cheeks, “—I mean, to your home.  I’ll ride with you.”

 And she hesitated, but shook her head.  “It’s too far.  I’ll be fine.”

 “It’s not too far.” It was an hour’s ride, or it had been last time, and then he’d have to come another hour back home, and then go back the next morning to pick her up.  And for a moment, he thought, he could stay with her, on the couch or the floor where her parents could have no objections—but it was too soon, and too much, and Hana didn’t offer him that.

 Instead she said “I take the subway a few stops, then the bus.  You could ride until it leaves Manhattan.”

 The train was emptier than the last time they’d ridden together, and that kept them from using the crowd as an excuse to stand close.  But on the bus they sat next to each other, and both bent over Sarp’s phone as they planned the route for the next morning, and the outside of Hana’s thigh bumped against his as the bus moved.  And then, their plans made, Sarp tucked his phone back into his pocket and offered his hand—and she took it.

 They didn’t say a word—but they didn’t have to.  The way she was looking at him, peeking up through her lashes, and the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles, her callused palm against his, said enough.

 As the bus approached the 2nd Avenue stop Sarp asked, “Are you sure you don’t me to come with you?”  It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but it was dark, and Hana was alone.  

 But she was a city girl. Despite the roots she’d told him about, growing up closer to orchards than skyscrapers, she was used to the city now, and he had to admit she seemed sure of herself.  “No,” she said, “it’s all right.  Thank you.”

 He nodded.

 But then Hana offered, “I’ll text you when I’m home, all right?”

 “All right.”  They could feel the bus starting to slow, and he said, “I’ll be there at eight.”  He was already dreading waking up early enough to get from Harlem to Queens, much less down to Howard Beach to pick up the bike—but if Hana’d come with him, he’d get up at the crack of dawn.

 And she smiled and said softly, “Okay.”

 For a moment they just looked at each other, then Sarp leaned forward, kissing her cheeks and then her forehead.  “Goodnight, Hana hanim,” he murmured against her skin.  She’d put her hands on his chest; his heart beat steadily beneath them, not the racing pulse of infatuation but the solid rhythm of comfort.

 “Goodnight,” she whispered.

 And he let go.

 But as he stepped off the bus and saw her wave from the window, his heart rose like helium, and as he caught the westbound bus back he was grinning.

 Hana’s coming to class with me, he texted Nilufer on the way back to Sugar Hill.  The photo of the kids convinced her.

 Are you sure it was the kids?  Nilufer sent back a grin emoji, and the heart-eyes, and said, Have fun, oğlum.

 And then, because she was his mother and couldn’t stop mothering even from an ocean away: Drive safely.  Wear a helmet!

 Yes, anne, he answered, with an eyeroll and laughter.

 Just as he was unlocking his door, Hana texted, I’m home! See you tomorrow.

 Bright and early, he promised.  And while he was thinking about it, he set his alarm, and a second one just to be safe.  Wear long pants and a jacket if you have it.

 I hope you don’t plan to crash, she said.

 No, he answered, but you need to look the part.  A sunglasses emoji completed the text, and a wink, but then he added, Good night, tatlım.

 Good night, zlatko.

 He looked up the meaning—and despite knowing he’d have to wake up in a few short hours, he was still grinning as he fell asleep.