#i think mr prank master has got some responsibility here

[daydream-believin]

MERLIN’S APPRENTICE & MERLIN’S CHAMPION || trollhunters

warnings: swearing

a/n: if rott gave me anything it gave me this idea

I KNOW I SAID “JUICY” BUT REALLY THAT WAS JUST THE ANGST POTENTIAL,, THAT IM NOT INDULGING IN THIS POST IM SORRY LMAO

OKAY WHAT IM REALLY TALKING BOUT HERE IS A GOOD MERLIN/ARTHUR BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS

no sorry i haven’t seen bbc merlin don’t come for me i’m ignorant

OKAY SO

we know douxie kept an eye on the human trollhunter and co

but douxie’s really having a hard time convincing himself he’s just doing his job

he’s actually enjoying this a little too much despite how boring staying in the shadows is

and he’s kinda worried?

so he’s got this bright idea: you know what would better help him keeps tabs? if he befriends this person

and so he does

fuck merlin’s shadows

sod the rules

ofc he’s very up front about knowing they’re the trollhunter and that he’s merlin’s apprentice

we wouldn’t want that to become a huge festering secret that eats douxie from the inside out until the inevitable reveal when merlin calls them both to help with the arcane order and they realize they’ve both been lying to each other’s faces for months/years and neither of them know if they could ever trust the other again, right? — phew *catches breath*

but before you know it, mr. casperan and mx. trollhunter are best friends

he’s basically the toby to your jim

and you’re very happy to have a best friend like douxie

he understands that monster hunting hustle

he’s the only person you can vent to and actually talk about what’s going on without sounding like a loon

and douxie likes being able to tell someone all his frustrations with merlin, since you’re also in that boat with him

you spar sometimes. it’s fun, but you’re very careful not to accidentally hurt your friend (he’s extremely careful not to hurt you or wound your ego by effortlessly wiping you out)

ofc, there’s the occasional, brushing of hands, faces a little too close together, accidentally winding up on top of one another, purposefully winding up on top of one another ���� you know how sparring be

you and douxie are a duo. a duo who have become trollmarket’s resident troublemakers, to vendel’s exasperation

you guys tease each other a lot

you do a lot of stupid shit, cause hey, now you have magic armor and a magic sword and a magic best friend, did you think you wouldn’t get up to some shenanigans?

douxie is your impulse control and he’s not a very good one, as he’s just as bad

truthfully archie has the brain cell

and pranks? gods the pranks. you two are always either pranking each other or you’re teaming up to prank some other troll who said smth mean to you in the pub. vendel had to personally put a stop to it (read: chew you out)

doux thinks the world of you tho, you’re such a noble knight, and likes to tell people about how you’re a cinnamon roll, so innocent, so pure

and then they meet you and you directly contradict those statements

trollhunter: i’ve never done anything wrong in my life, ever

douxie: i know this and i love you

(spoiler: you’ve done lots and lots of wrong)

doux spends an awful lot of time slinking around trollmarket now, and he’s in the know for everything that’s happening

(no more being kept in the dark for this wizard apprentice)

and doux knows merlin won’t completely approve of this, but hey, it’s not like he’s helping and thus directly disobeying

really, he’s not helping you at all, it’s really fucking annoying

okay so mayyybe the occasional healing spell. you’ve got those puppy dog eyes he can’t say no to

but you understand his sense of duty, or whatever it is that drives a follower, technically being a follower of merlin yourself

you respect the old geezer (as you have not been turned into a half-troll yet) as a wise mythical figure, and as your best friend’s father

and what a perfect match you are for each other, champion and apprentice, mutually being screwed over by a guy you both think has all the answers

you and douxie help each other grow in your self-worths, that you two are more than the chances merlin has given to you

unfortunately, mortifyingly, you have caught feelings.

douxie has also caught feelings, and is saying nothing yep you have enough on your plate without him putting this on you so he’ll just quietly pine and suffer don’t mind him choking to death in the corner when you take off your helmet and throw back your hair

y’all’s problem really starts manifesting itself as protectiveness. you are really protective of your wizard and he is really protective of his knight

lots of things said that are Not What Friends Say but neither of you really want to be the one to point that out

lots and lots of i love yous that slowly get more and more serious until it’s not exactly platonic anymore

and it’s just really nice to have someone to get coffee (or your favored hot drink) with at four in the morning after a tussle with a troll

and that’s basically how you and douxie spend the bulk of trollhunters, just vibing

as much as you can vibe, with all the changelings and shit trying to murder you all the time

then merlin wakes up and shakes up your world

you are aware of your impending doom

you’re aware of it

merlin keeps looking you up and down like he’s mentally making up the measurements of your coffin

and tbh the idea of fighting gunmar freaks you tf out

and you’re supposed to win that fight?

gods

you’re preparing for your nightmares coming true soon

truthfully you knew your fucking job had a 100% mortality rate

you don’t want to die with regrets

so

you spill

you spill all the things you’d wanted to tell him and how much he means to you and that you couldn’t bear it if you were a goner before he knew

miraculously, douxie feels the same and tells you all the things he’d been holding back and and what you mean to him and how much he wants to protect you, that you’re gonna make it, if he had anything to say about it

and everything is perfect for one night

now you have a real reason to win

not that saving humanity isn’t a big responsibility on your shoulders and definitely A Reason

but knowing douxie’s waiting for you, for the life you’ll build together after this, the peace you’ll both have, it’s absolutely a big motivation to give your all and come out victorious and survive

hahaha loser you don’t know about the arcane order

and then merlin uses your microwave to cook a weird potion

you and merlin are alone in the house, but there’s no real mind games necessary. you may have grown past thinking he was a god, but in the end, you’re still a follower of merlin, and if merlin thinks this could give you an edge, well, who are you to question his methods

doesn’t mean you aren’t nervous as your master hands you the bottle

yet you don’t even hesitate to drown yourself in the black abyss of the tub

whatever it takes amirite?

and now you’re a half-troll

a sexy half-troll, if you do say so yourself

yeah, no ‘i’m a monster’ angst here, you’re loving the power-up

you’ve got to treat it like a cool new power-up or you will cry actually tbh i lied about the no-angst thing a new body is disorienting

your only real concern is douxie

not concerned for long tho, he sees you and the first thing out of his mouth is “nuclear!”

and he senses your concern, so he does go out of his way to assure you that boy, girl, enby, or half-troll, he loves you for your soul, darling

also again half-troll! you is hot as hell so he’s not really losing anything here 👀

he makes sure you know that too, not to let any insecurities fester

him raking his eyes up and down you gives the opposite effect of the dread merlin sent down your spine doing it

anyways,,,

doux helps out a lot more in the eternal night

like helps merlin re-defeat and re-seal morgana

he’ll do it again in few weeks but with a bigger role you know, this is practice

thank merlin for that edge YOU ARE THE LAST TROLLHUNTER YOU ARE VICTORIOUS YOUVE GOT GUNMARS HEAD IN YOUR HANDS HAHAHA

but now you’ve got to go to new jersey

douxie’s been instructed to stay in arcadia tho 🥺

it’s okay, you’ll see each other again soon

sooner than you realize

and until then you talk each other to sleep every night over the phone <3

merlins glad, actually. he’s glad hisirdoux found some solace. even if it is with the lamb he was raising for the slaughter. maybe things will go okay for them. the time map suggests it might be so

hisirdoux may have done things in a way he didn’t quite approve of, but that’s because he’s becoming his own wizard, and merlin is proud

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward Part 15: Twinning 

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written By 

AJ Dunn

Adrien shook the door knob to his bedroom. It was late and he was tired from the day’s activities. Kung Fu lessons, two which the girls were now a part of, plus tutoring them. It had been a long day and he wasn’t in the mood for this, again.

“Plagg.” with no answer. “Plagg, open this door will yeah, I swear I will go buy you some Camembert even if I have to fly to Paris tomorrow to get it.” Still no response.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette yawned out her bedroom door. Adrien shook the door knob again with a scowl. “Again?” She sighed. “No wonder Plagg decided to spend the night in the box.” 

“Great, it’s one thing they locked me out last time, now they are teaming up with the Kwami’s.” Adrien sighed and turned for the stairs.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Marinette called, “It’s too late at night to get a key here.” She stepped back into her room holding her hand out to him. His heart skipped a beat at the invitation but hesitated. It was so exhausting and the couch wasn’t as inviting as her bed. He could hear giggling coming from their room as he stepped into Marinette’s room and closed the door behind him. It’s not the first time they had shared a bed, it was however the first time in her bed. Which somehow made it more alluring. 

“Do you think this was their scheme all along?” He asked as he pulled the blankets over them. “Do teenage girls actually do stuff like this?” He couldn’t see very well in the dark of the room but as the moon cast it’s glow over her face he could see how red it was. 

“You have no idea.” She giggled. 

“Oh, so did you pull pranks on your parents too.” He asked filled with curiosity despite his weariness. 

“Not… my parents but someone else… and it wasn’t like…” She began to stammer as she had as a teenager.

“What did you do?” he asked. “Other than sneak into the pool to see me in my speedo.” She buried her face in her pillow. He pulled her onto him as he rolled to his back. She covered her face with her hands as she sat up on his waist. 

“There’s a lot of things.” she said. “Like the letter I was supposed to give you instead of the prescription. The various random run-ins around town during your photo shoot…” He laughed.

“I take it they weren’t by chance.” He pulled her hands away from her face, holding them to his chest. “You really had it that bad for me?” she nodded still flushed red. “You didn’t help the girls with this scheme, did you?”

“NO.” she said, more flushed than before. 

“Because if you wanted me to sleep with you all you had to do was say something.’ He pulled her face down to his as he pressed his lips to hers. His heart raced inside his chest as her hands slid from his chest to his hair. Her kiss was more passionate and hungry than it had been before. He rolled her over until he was on top of her. He trailed his kisses to her cheek then to her neck. She squealed quietly as his lips parted gently biting her neck before he sucked on it gently. Her legs tightened around his waist as he let up and rolled off of her. She was frozen in that position until he rolled her on her side back facing him and pulled her closer to him.

“Think about that the next time you want to scheme about getting me into bed with you,” he teased.

“I didn’t…” she whimpered but didn’t argue anymore. 

The girls were sitting on the stairs whispering to themselves when Adrien left Marinette’s bedroom. He crossed his arms as he gave them a ‘seriously?’ expression. They laughed at him. His face softened as he smiled at them then gave them a thumbs up before going into the bathroom. 

“Keep laughing like that and you’ll wake Marinette then she’ll make you try on more outfits.” He said as he closed the door. The girls followed him downstairs.

“What are you going to do with the rings?” Stasia asked. 

“Well that’s up to Marinette.” Adrien said as he scooped pancakes and eggs onto their plates. They were seated around the table in the dining room next to the kitchen. 

“But she’s not even a Graham De Vanily.” Anna complained. 

“Not yet.” Adrien looked up at them. “And Technically neither are you.” 

“Well, I mean, now we are right?” Stasia spoke up. 

“Only because I changed my name and the paperwork isn’t finished yet, Gabriel has to sign over his rights first.” Adrien scowled at the thought, wondering if his father would actually sign them over. He saw their faces go south. He could feel the tension in their air between them. He didn’t know the same father they did, they had described him as loving and caring he had adored them, but ignored him. 

“Smells good.” Marinette said coming into the dining room. The sun shone brightly through the wall length windows. The patio outside of the dining room held many flower planters and several lounge chairs. Marinette and the girls would spend hours enjoying themselves reading books and just hanging out there. It was the only window not covered with the electric blinds, also the only place the Kwami’s didn’t go unless they were hidden. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him up.” Adrien said as he sat down to Marinette’s right. “But Ladybug is our leader, and we all trust her to know the right thing to do.” 

“What’s this?” Marinette asked. 

“We were just asking about our family's rings.” Anna told her. 

“Well, they will stay in your family of course,” Marinette started. “As soon as I know you won’t be using them to pull pranks and stuff.” she gave them a wink as they laughed at her. 

“We have NO idea what youre talking about.” They said in sync. 

“Plagg already told us everything.” Adrien scolded. “By the way, where did you guys find Camembert?” the girls laughed. 

“Uncle Cheng ordered it for us.” they said together.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me.” Marinette said with a chuckle. They worked on their breakfast and began to get ready for their day of kung fu and tutoring. The twins had been out of society for so long that, even though it only felt like days to them, it had been years and society moved on leaving them in the cold. There was a lot for them to catch up on. 

Adrien was glad he had Marinette to handle the more feminine side of things as he was socially hindered to begin with, trying to understand teenage girls was a challenge he was not prepared to face. Not to mention, his older sisters who were now younger than him. A dynamic that was hard enough to explain let alone live with . The girls hadn’t mastered Mandarin so it wasn’t going to be possible to enrol them in school here in China. 

Adrien arrived at the temple and found the first class of students were ready for their lessons. The girls took their places giggling to themselves as if Adrien had a kick me sign on his back. He had to check casually just in case. He walked around calling out stances and watching the youth change their stances moving in sync with one another. He monitored their movements making them hold their position until he was sure everyone was ready to move on. 

Occasionally, he would have to form the stance himself to demonstrate but otherwise he simply walked around. After the initial exercises he moved on to demonstrate a few new techniques. Each new technique would be added to each day's drills. Until the movements were memorized by their muscles so they wouldn’t even have to think about them before performing them. 

The first class was over and the kids ran off to school, while Adrien took the girls into the temple for their lessons in Mandarin and history. Before he could get started with their lessons his phone ran. It was from Paris, from the Paris branch of the G brand. 

“This is Adrien.” he said, assuming it was Felix as he hadn’t heard from him since the battle with Tempest. 

“Adrien, it’s Margaritte, I am Felix’s assistant and I was wondering…” She paused with a worried sound in her voice. “If you knew where he was?” 

“Wait, so he’s not there?” Adrien said confused. 

“We haven't seen him in awhile now. And I am afraid the board is afraid…”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, try to hold the board until I get there.” Adrien said. He really didn’t want the company but he couldn’t let the board take over his company because his brother went MIA, he would rather give the company to Marinette. He hung up the phone and looked at the girls, how had that idea never occurred to him? She wanted a job based solely off her skills not because she was dating the owner of the company. 

“Girls, we’ll put your studies on hold for a little while, go outside and spar.” The girls ran outside pushing each other playfully. Adrien dialed up a Shanghai number, one he only used in an emergency. 

“Fei. I need your help.” Fei had become like family to Marinette after the first time she visited Shanghai and got lost. She had no family so Wang Cheng took her in, though her passion and her primary job was protecting Shanghai with her own Miraculous powers. “I have to leave town and I need someone to stand in for me with my students,” he told her. 

“I would be honored Xiongdi. ”She said “I will be over in a few hours.” 

“See you then.” He hung up the phone then watched the girls spar. His mind was far too preoccupied with the now confirmed disappearance of his brother to even think about tutoring his sisters. His phone rang again.

“Mr. Agreste would like to meet with you to discuss the petition of guardianship.” the voice spoke before Adrien could respond. It was Gabriel’s lawyer. “He also demands visitation with his daughters.” 

“Funny, he never asked for a visit with me.” Adrien said coldly. “I don’t think that is going to happen.”

“Considering he still maintains his parental rights, you don’t have a choice but to comply.” the lawyer said

“You can discuss that with my lawyers, from now on, you contact them not me.” Adrien said then hung up. ‘FUCK’ he mutted to himself. 

“I’m not sure what’s going on but it sounds like you could use some cheese.” Plagg offered him a chunk of Manchego. Adrien waved him away placing his hands on his hips. He looked back out the window to find the girls were gone. He rushed out to search for them. He searched all over the grounds with no sign of them. 

He heard giggling coming from a room in the basement of the temple. He headed for the stairs then heard another giggle coming from outside. 

“Plagg, head downstairs, I’m going outside.” Adrien said. 

“It’s not like I can throw her over my shoulder.” Plagg said. Adrien scowled then through his hands into the air slapping them hard against his sides in exasperation. 

“What’s wrong?” A voice came from the doorway. It was Fei.

“Great you're here, help me find my sisters please?” Fei laughed at him.

“Their playing hide & seek.” She leaned against the door frame folding her arms over her chest. “I already found one and froze her to stone.” She laughed. Adrien’s mouth twisted into shock as he rushed past her. How could she use her powers on his little sister. He saw her in the front courtyard standing still. He sighed when he realized she wasn’t frozen just standing in a running away pose. 

“It’s part of the game.” eie laughed at him. “Shall I go find the other one?” Adrien nodded. He was in over his head with these two. Stasia tried to hold her pose, but gravity gave in and she collapsed to the ground laughing. Adrien smiled as he allowed his body to relax, crossing his ankles and dropping into a seated position on the deck. A few minutes later Fei retired with Anna over her shoulders pretending to be petrified. 

“I have to go back to Paris, and I think it will be more of a permanent situation.” Adrien said as Fei sat down next to him. 

“Does this have anything to do with them?” She whispered nodding towards the two girls who were now sparring. Their actions moved in sync as they faced each other. Their movements timed just right as they dodge and kicked, punch and swerved into a martial arts dance. 

“Partially.” He said. “I have to talk to Marinette, I have uprooted her once already to bring her here.” 

“I’m sure she would be happy to return home.” Fei said. 

“I called her, she’ll be here for lunch.” He looked at his watch. “Any minute now.” He felt anxiety rise up in him as he recalled how she had always been late as a teenager and she must be really busy, but he needed her right now. Adrien got up and walked over to the girls. He needed a distraction. 

“Now for your punishment of locking me out of my room.” He said taking a defensive stance. They knew exactly what to do. They both jumped on him tackling him to the ground then began to tickle him as he tried to fight them off. He could hear Fei laughing at him. 

“Well, I think I should be recording this.” Marinette said from the gate as she walked in carrying a bag with the Thousand Delights logo on it. 

“Adrien pulled himself up with the girls still attached to him as he ran to her pulling her into a hug. The girls hung off his back like monkeys trying in vain to defeat him. 

“I think we should have those growths on your back checked, we may need to have them surgically removed.” Fei teased coming up behind them to tickle the girls into letting go of Adrien. Marinette frowned as she watched Fei. Was it jealousy?

“Fei, what are you doing here?” Marinette said with an obviously forced smile. 

“Adrien was just telling me he needed my help with the girls.” Fei decided not to tell her the whole reason he had called her over. This seemed to make Marinette’s face tighten more as her face blossomed into hues of red. 

“We need to talk to Marinette.” Fei can you watch the girls for a minute while I take her inside to tell her. Marinette stiffened. She looked up at Adrien, his clenched jaw now a look of horror as she allowed him to lead her inside. He took a seat at the table he used for the tutoring sessions and motioned for her to sit too. She just set the bag on the table and crossed her arms. Adrien looked down at his hands folded together in his lap. 

“Marinette, we have to…” 

“Don’t…” Marinette interrupted. He looked up at her, tears began to stream down her face. 

“What.” he got up moving around the table to grasp her arms. He turned her to face him but she looked away. He lifted her face to meet his eyes. “I was just going to say, we have to go back to Paris.” Her face changed to a look of surprise as she reached up, wiping her tears from her eyes. “Why are you crying?” He was dumbfounded. What did she think he needed to talk to her about. Her eyes darted to the window looking out over the front courtyard as Fei sparred with the girls. 

Adrien pulled her into a hug, suddenly realizing how this might look to Marinette, she had been so sensitive about their relationship for so long of course she expected him to leave her for someone else. He sat her down and explained the phone calls he got and what he was thinking would now require them to move back to Paris. 

“Marinette, you were the first girl I ever loved, and the second all rolled into one.” He kissed her lips. I loved you for the amazing woman you are, you're a superheroine with or without a mask, and I couldn’t replace you with anyone else.” He said. 

“She is too, and she has more powers.” Marinette choked back more tears. He watched her eyes look out the window again. 

“She also stole from a girl I love, left her stranded in a foreign country where she didn’t speak the language, and played her for a fool.” Adrien said. “I could never abide in someone who could lie and be deceitful for the sake of her own gain.” 

“I’ve lied.” She whimpered.

“Not to hurt someone.” He said. She sighed. 

“I guess the only way to save you from this fear of losing me is to just simply do it.” He said sliding out of his seat to his knee. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, will you Marry me?”

[yami-writes]

MHA boys with tiktok accounts

(🏷️) paring(s): Midoriya x reader, Kaminari x reader, Todoroki x reader (🔮) summary: Midoriya, Kaminari, and todoroki with Tiktok accounts (hcs) (⚠️) warning(s): just crack n fluff here (💌) note from Yami: inspired by a request I got the other day (check it out here) (hey yall, made this at 3am dont mind me. jus vibin)

~*~*~*~*

Midoriya

i think he would enjoy tiktok

you introduced him to it

and he thought it was cool so he decided to stay for the ride

His fyp is filled to the brim with all might.

Just all might.

Occasionally some other heroes

But mainly all might ✋

He WANTS to only follow you

But he's a pushover and too nice for his own good and ended up following everyone in class

Poor bby

If he ever does decide to post, it will have something to do with heroes

Probably just recording all of his all might merch

And occasional small vlogs of what it's like at ua

Or in the dorms

And there pretty fun to watch and get a lot of love

And of course people will demand more

And, like I said, he physically can't say no

So he does more

which never fail to get under 1.5mil veiws

he’s well known in the tiktok community~~

HE WILL COMMENT NICE THINGS ON EVERY. SINGLE. VIDEO. YOU. POST.

no exceptions.

A small dance video??

"angel, your so good at dancing!!! Plz teach me someday!! I wanna be in one of your tiktoks!! :)"

precious!!

or perhaps some sort of aesthetic video

“wow! this tiktok is so pretty! just like you, angel <3(a tiktok could never compare to you)″

ahhhhhhhhhh IZUUU

you always screenshot the comment and send it to him with your response

and u could see him blushing behind the screen

if u do decide to allow him to dance in one of your tiktoks, hes so happy

like, incredibly happy

as if All Might himself walked into the room

his face will light up like a PUPPY

ok i’ll stop.

after mina’s many lessons she was able to teach him to dance pretty well

now all you had to do was teach him the dance 

and it turned out really good

ill leave the dance and the overall quality of said tiktok up to u 😌

use ur imaginations loves~~

but regardless~

the tiktok yall made 

blew. tf. up.

the comments were full of

“OMG YOU GUYS R SO CUTEE 😍”

and

“PLZ DO MOREE!!!!”

probably the most popular video you have tbh~

and you bet ur ass when midoriya found out he was gonna do another one

GOD- 

you swear his smile could make a bitch go blind~

Follower count: 5.3mil & counting

Kaminari

i know for a FACT this bitch has tiktok

i also know he is a tiktok MASTER

he knows all the trends

and the memes

and is also quite well known

his fyp definitely has A LOT of memes

and trendy stuff

and he only posts trendy stuff

the includes dances, challenges, pranks..... PRANKS.

a lot of pranks from this man....

and you, dear, are one of his main victims

along with the rest of the bakusquad

and its annoying asf bc this idiot is wasting his damn brain space that he apparently has??? to plan out a PERFECT prank

and it works EVER. SINGLE. TIME.

there is no escaping him,

and its even worst bc these pranks of his are his most popular posts

by this point there is no stoppping him.

and dont even bother trying to get him back

he can literally sense a prank

like a second quirk or sumn-

rip 💀

he will SPAMM your comments

“FGUYJGYHUK”

“GO OFFFF”

“dat ass tho 👀���”

“u really went: 🍰🍰“

“just suffocate me with your thighs already, boo!! 😭🥺”

lmafoooo 

you cant even be bothered to reply to any of his thirsty comments

which are always the first ones you recive...

and are always top comments

rip💀

now,lemme get this straight.

he will BEG

like- on his hands and knees beg

the be in one of ur tiktoks

specifically, a dance

even more specifically, a dance thats more on the~~ scandalous side

you know what i mean sis

rolls, hair whips, throwin it back, all the shit

hell- you have NO idea how much he would love to just be in the presence of you throwin him back sum ass 

damn

once you finally give in and do a tiktok with him

and he wants to pick the dance

obviously

yall prob did a doja cat song cant lie lmafo

“Candy” perhaps??

anyways, he’ll probably mess up on purpose just so u can throw it to em again

but once he’s had enough he’ll do it properly

after about 12 attempts that is-

but dont worry cause that video got LOVE

“THIS IS SO CUTE😍”

“PLZ DANCE TOGETHER MOREEE❤️💗“

and you know denki is gonna see this

you also know he, along with ur comments, also want more

good luck, dear...

follower count: 8.1mil & counting

Todoroki

you showed him tiktok

and he watched you in your dorm making some

and he wanted to try so you helped him make an acc

ofc the first thing he does is follow you and watch some all of ur videos

every single one, sis.

i think his fyp would be full of cooking tutorials

specifically, soba

he tries, he really does.

he still cont cook with out burning something, but there IS improvment

and he would post the most random shit

literally anything

a small bug he saw on his way to school?

filmed and posted.

and that shit gets VIEWS

how you ask??

good question dearie

lets just say Mr. Shouto Todoroki is HOT

in all aspects, no exeptions

people can and will watch his tiktoks just to see him

and better bet ur ass his comments are full of thirsty girls

but thats offtopic.

he also has small videos he recored of you

whether it was you singing or dancing

doing you makeup brushing your hair

dosent matter.

he’ll have a BUNCH in his drafts he likes to scroll through daily

he never told anyone, not even you

👀👀

he dosent comment on all ur posts but he does comment on some of them

only some

specifically, the ones he likes

i mean~ he likes all of them, but if he favors a specific one over the rest, he’ll let you know

“wow, y/n. i like this video more than your others. i guess thats why im commenting. anyways, i love the tiktok, but i love you more.”

he sooooo dryyyyyy

like put a heart at least man

ANYWAYS

he usually lurks in the comments, making sure everyone is staying their place

like a security guard lmao

he’ll privately message you his thoughts on your tiktok

it’ll be a long message with a mix of compliments but also questions

“i liked the song, but whats the song called? 

“how did you make that? I really liked it though.”

dry, but pure.

i dont think he would have much interest in  being in one of your tiktoks

BUT

if you want him in one of your tiktoks

he’ll offer to stand in the background.....

then you explain to him you want him to /participate/ in the tiktok

if you want him to do a dance with you

goodluck

this man is STIFF

every move you teach him is another jab at your soul

painful

if you gather up the courage to allow him to be in the tiktok

he’ll just-

leave

as in, walk out of the room leave

...what???

he’ll come back later and act as if nothing happened

and if u question him

“i lost interest.” 

yea, like a fucking child

the damn tiktok barley even started-

follower count: 10.9mil & counting

Masterlist

[lunarianillusion]

A change in fate

A Maribat fanfic

prologue

Marinette had made a grave mistake that would put the fate of Paris in peril. After a stressful battle, with a murderous akuma along with a sentimonster that could shroud the battlefield with a thick mist and Mayura, she had renounced her miraculous. Her civilian life had been getting more and more miserable thanks to Lie-la and even though she had a small but loyal group of friends it was to much. The omega could not take all the responsibility and Tikki insistence to keep moving forward and to keep doing her best was exhausting to say the least. So, she renounced the little god for a moment of pure silence, but that moment had allowed her to get akumatized.

“Oh, Tikki. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” the girl whispered to herself. A lone tear ran down her cheek, her face blank from any emotion.

______________________________________________________________________

In the aftermath of the battle Marinette had found that a new ladybug had risen. This one seemed to be flaunting her ‘excellence’ and was slandering the previous ladybug with viperous intend.

The noir omega had gone to her master to find out what the plan of action to reclaim the miraculous was going to be. But when she arrived, she was scorned for her negligence in losing the ladybug miraculous.

“You should have been more careful Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. I intrusted you with one of the greatest powers within our universe and you take such lenience with it. This is not a game. Now we do not know who the ladybug wielder is and that could jeopardise the fate of Paris if not the universe,” The old beta berated.

Marinette felt her inner fire begin to boil over once more, but instead of a cold despair like a hours prior, it was a raging inferno. He thought this was a game to her, has he not been paying attention to how Chat Noir was acting at all! And Intrusted! He forced the role of ladybug onto her. With no warning, no prior preparation and the way he chose made her question if he should even have hold over the remaining miraculous. So, she snapped.

“Intrusted?!” The omega shrieked, baring her fangs. “You practically forced the role onto me! With your misguided way of choosing exam and then gave me no training, no guidance and just watched as I tripped every step of the way! You speak of me being lenient, have you even been paying to Chat Noirs behaviour?!”

Fu opened his mouth to interjected, but Marinette did not give him a chance. He would hear what she had to say.

“Do not even try making any excuses for him and do not give that crap about the ladybug and black cat being meant to be together. You know that all the flirting is uncalled for and distracting. How many innocent people have been hurt or worse, because he could not stop harassing me. Let’s also not forget all the times in battle he got mind controlled or straight up killed! He is a thorn in once side, that only adds to my stress. Stress from being ladybug, stress from trying to find Hawkmoth and my civilian life with all of its own responsibilities. I try to be ‘perfect’, but I am only human, and we are not supposed to, as a species, bottle up all of our emotions. So, I am ‘sorry’ if I cracked under all the pressure, but I am not an emotionless doll that you can make do as you will, and I will just go along with it!” Marinette roared.

The omega took several deep breathes. Having finally let out all of her despair, pain and rage. So, now she tried to calm herself and get her flaring spiced up scent, that reflected her raging emotions, under control. She was truly grateful far Wayzz. If not for the small turtle protection around the shop, she would likely have been akumatized again.

“Very well,” the ancient beta sheathed, eyes glaring cold daggers into the omega before him. “Then you shall no longer carry the title of ladybug. I will release you from that burden. You shall never get a miraculous from me again. Cleary you are to unstable now to carry such a great honour. Given with what cast you have matured into.”

Oh, he did not just go there.

“We shall see how the new ladybug does. She might do far better with Chat Noir than you ever did.”

Marinette highly doubted that. She had seen the recording of the fight. Chat noir had been killed halfway through the battle and had been arguing with the new ladybug non-stop before that. Tripping each other up on purpose. The unknown ladybug had only been able to win by the skin of her teeth.

“Now leave my shop and do not come back. You are no longer welcome here.” Fu ended his speech by turning his nose to the girl and staring her down.

The silence in the room was deafening.

After a long moment of getting her emotions under control did Marinette straighten up. Her face a blank emotionless mask, a reflection of her spend emotions, and left the massage parlour. Leaving an enraged old beta and horrified kwami, who truly wished this was all just a big nightmare, behind.

The young omega then aimlessly walked and walked, hoping that buzzing in her head would just stop. He feet brought her to the place where it all began. The battlefield where she fought her last battle as ladybug.

She stood there for maybe an hour. Just standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and regrets. Before deciding it was time to go home, if she could even call it her home. Her parents no longer trusted her, thanks to Lie-la. They did not abuse her with any violence but did make her work long hours in the bakery when they wanted to go out. Which they had been doing more and more as of late. Other wise they just ignored her. This made her wonder if they ever truly cared for her.

Marinette sighed and was about to turn around. When something caught her eye.

It shined blue and seemed to call to her.

_____________________________________________________________________

Timothy Jackson Drake truly did not wish to leave Gotham, but he could not take anymore of his old pack. Be it the attempts on his life or the neglect that has been growing over the months. The way most of the pack just ignored him on a daily basis made him think of when he was still living with his parents, when they were still alive.

Everything stared to get shaky when Jason retuned from the grave. At first Tim had been exited in small part, since he had always looked up to the second robin. Then came the attempts on his life. Tim knew that in large part that had been the fault of the Lazarus pit and the Al Ghuls, but the scar never fully faded.

His relationship with the older alpha was now shaky at best. They could get along but there were some moments.

And then came Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

Things started to truly spiral for the young alpha with the arrival of the violent pup. In all honesty he could not fully blame all of the violent tendencies on the pup themself. Most of it had come from the way Damian was raised.

The Al Ghuls just loved to fuck with the Wayne pack in more ways than one.

Even that did not excuse most of his actions. The thing that got Tim the most however was how the pack barely reprimanded or the corrected the pup on his behaviour. Even when the demon spawn tried to kill him on so many occasions. He barely got a slap on the wrist. A very slow transition ensued for the pup and Tim because of this and to this day the demon spawn would try to kill him, at the most inconvenient of times.

And then the brat was given the robin mantle. No choice had been given to the youngest alpha in the matter. Dick had just taken the mantle and given it away with barely an explanation given or time for Tim to prepare a new identity before the reveal.

He relationship with his older brother became extremely strained after that.

After that whole debacle he had gone to find Bruce. In a sense hoping that it would help the pack. In a way it did, but Timothy became more and more like a poltergeist to the Wayne pack. He could stand right beside one of them and they just would not notice him.

Thank god for Alfred though if not for the old beta Tim would not have survived to this point.

And was one of the reasons why Timothy wanted to stay. But no, he needed to leave. He first thought of going to the titans but decided against that. He had gotten estranged with his old friends over the years and did not feel comfortable with still being so close to Gotham. No, he needed to start a new.

Which lead to were he is now. On a plane to Paris, staring melancholily out the window. He had prepared everything in advance to erase his old self from the Wayne pack and keep off their radar. There was a reason however for choosing Paris.

While once going through the justice league files, he came across a curious case that had been played off as a prank. It was a call for help from a few years back. It had been made by what had to have been a young teenage hero. She had called saying that a villain by the name of Hawkmoth had shown up and was using negative emotions to turn civilian’s into superpowered pawns to do his bidding. It had been written up as a prank because no calls for help had come for either the French government or the JLE. Then again Guy Gardner was the one to look into the case, so grain of salt. And when Tim looked into the case, he found nothing but nothing as in complete radio silence. As if Paris had completely dropped of the face of the earth news wise.

So, he would take a look himself and see for himself what this was about and if it was truly a prank than he could just find a way to start a new life in the city of love.

[lynettethemadscientist]

Concept: An Alternate Universe(?) Saeran x Reader fic based on the 50s sci-fi movie The Alligator People. 

~

I’m standing on a train station platform in Louisiana swamp country. Alone.

Nearby me sits a box labeled radioactive. It’s been hours but surely someone will come for their mail. So I wait.

An old pickup arrives. A mint-haired man wearing dark shades steps out of the truck to pick up the package.

I ask him if he knows of the place I’m looking for and if he’ll take me there.

“They don’t usually have visitors.” His voice is low and cool. “Are they expecting you?”

“No. Not exactly. But they will know who I am.”

The bluenet smiles before telling me to hop in and loading the crate onto the truck. 

The drive through the swamp is rough. The man introduces himself as V and gives me a kind smile. Perhaps in an effort to ease my apprehension. But my unease does not come from him.

When V stops to remove a large branch from the roadway, I see two men attempting to wrangle an alligator.

“Have you ever been in bayou country before?” V asks as he returns to the truck.

I shake my head, still staring at the gator thrashing and hissing in the grasp of the men. “It’s so wild and primitive.”

“And deadly. You ought to be careful around here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rest of the drive is no more smooth and no less tense than it began.

We soon reach a plantation house. V drops me off and drives away. 

I knock on the door. 

The door opens and I’m greeted by a stunningly beautiful white-haired man with scarlet eyes dressed in butler attire. He flashes a charming smile but before he can speak, I hear a cheery male voice from within the house.

“Who is it, Zen?~” The voice chimes.

“It’s a fine lady.” Zen answers as he effortlessly tosses me a wink.

“Well don’t be rude, let her in!~”

I step inside and see a man with racecar-red hair dressed like a Southern belle. His face looks strangely familiar.

“Is this your place?” I ask.

“Of course!” He flourishes an ornate fan. “Welcome to my lovely manor!”

I catch a glimpse of the butler rolling his eyes before I respond. “Well...maybe you can help me. For a long time I’ve been looking for my husband. He disappeared the night we were married. I’ve searched everywhere. I’ve tried everything. And this is my last hope.”

The vermillion-haired belle’s face is still plastered with a silly grin but his eyes show no mirth. “But, why here? Surely you can’t expect to find anything in a swamp but alligators~ And snakes~ Hisssss~”

I hesitate, trying to process the unorthodox demeanor of this man. “I received a mysterious message stating that my husband lived at this address.”

“What is your name?”

“Mrs. Saeran Choi.”

His expression falters for a moment. “Well, there’s no one by that name here~ Some charlatan must have been playing a cruel prank on you.” He touches a hand to his cheek. “But no matter~ There’ll be another train tomorrow~ May we offer you the hospitality of the manor for the night?”

“I suppose…” This man is so absurd, I cannot determine if he is mocking me or just ill-mannered. 

“Terrific!” He claps his hands together. “Yoosung!”

A door opens to reveal a blond man with violet eyes wearing a maid outfit. He exits what appears to be a kitchen. “Yes, Master Luciel?”

“Show Mrs- what was your name again?”

“Mrs. Saeran Choi.”

“Show Mrs. Choi to the guest room please~”

Luciel whispers something into Yoosung’s ear before I follow him upstairs. 

~

I distractedly unpack in my room amidst thoughts concerning the strange owner of this house. I’m tempted to dismiss his behavior as merely the eccentricities of a man who’s lived in the swamp too long. But I cannot help but feel that his odd behavior is merely a ruse. 

I hear gunshots outside.

I rush to the window and see a blonde woman in a black dress cackling and firing a pistol wildly at gators. I run to the door but find it locked. 

I retreat to the bed. I’m trapped here. If I were really a guest they wouldn’t have locked me in. 

The gunshots stop.

The maid enters carrying a tea tray.

“Yoosung,” I plead. “Those gunshots. What were they about?”

“Oh...” He throws a mildly contemptuous glance at the window. “That’s the swamp witch. She hates gators.” He sets down the tray and stares at me for a tense moment. “I have to go.”

“Wait please!” I tug at Yoosung’s arm. “Somebody has to help me. Is it true what he told me? Have I come to the wrong place?”

“I can’t- I ought not to say anything, ma’am.”

“Can’t you tell me anything?”

I see pity surfacing in his lavender eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s not my secret to tell.”

He slips a key into my hands and leaves the room.

I hear a door slam and look out another window to see Luciel leaving in a car that looks ill-fitted for the terrain. 

~

I wake up to the sound of a piano playing a sorrowful tune. I feel as though I’ve heard this theme before. I unlock my door and walk softly down the stairs. I can hear the music coming from behind a door to my right.

I open the door and the piano stops playing. In the dark I can barely see a male figure turning to see me before he flees out a side door and into the swamp. I turn on a lamp and see muddy footprints on the floor. Upon approaching the piano I find the keys are wet. 

~

In the morning I stand outside the front door. A man drives up in a fancy boat with wheels. He introduces himself as Jumin Han, the local doctor. 

“Is Luciel inside?” He inquires.

“He hasn’t come down yet. Has he been ill, doctor?”

“No. I have some other business with him.”

I pause for a moment before introducing myself. “I’m Mrs. Choi. Mrs. Saeran Choi.” I examine his face as I enunciate my words. “That name doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“No. Should it?”

“I don’t know. Let me explain, doctor. Since my husband disappeared I’ve done nothing but search for him. And I’m going to keep on asking questions.”

“What brings you here?”

“A mysterious message.”

“You came all the way down here. Traveled thousands of miles. On nothing more tangible than that.”

“I’ve traveled much farther, on even less.”

“I see.” The flash of conflict in his eyes is brief but unmistakable. “You found no other evidence?”

“Why? Is there other evidence?”

“Of course not.”

“You did know Saeran didn’t you? I can tell. What is it, doctor? Why won’t any of you tell me about him? What are you all trying to hide?”

“You are obviously overwrought. But that’s understandable given the circumstances. I wish I could help. Please tell Luciel I couldn’t wait, but I’ll stop by later.”

Even as he walks away I’m sure that man did not come here to see Luciel at all but instead to interrogate me.

When Zen brings a car around to bring me to the train station I refuse to leave.

Luciel returns home to find me rifling through the paperwork in his desk.

“What are you doing??” He hikes up his dress and rushes towards me.

“Looking for answers.”

“Get out of there. You’ve no right to look through my things. You were supposed to leave on the train.”

“I’m not leaving here until I get the answers to the questions that brought me here.”

“I told you yesterday you were mistaken.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Get out of my house.”

“I will not. Who was playing the piano in the dark last night? Someone who left wet footprints on the carpet.”

“You’re imagining things-”

“No I’m not. Anymore than I’m imagining that you want to get rid of me. That you’ve got something to hide.”

His expression hardens. “Just leave it alone. It’s none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t! What have you done with my husband?”

“Your curiosity will get you nothing but trouble. You need to leave. Now.”

“Saeran is my husband. I’m not leaving until you tell me whatever terrible thing you’ve done to him.”

“I don’t give a damn if he’s your husband! He’s-” His breathing is frantic.

“He’s what?”

Luciel heaves a weary sigh. “He’s my brother.” His eyes glisten. “I have to protect him. No matter what.”

I am halted at this revelation. My confrontational demeanor is whisked away.

~

As night falls, I wait for Saeran in the piano room. I sit concealed in a large cushioned chair. Behind me I hear the door open and a gravelly voice speak.

“Saeyoung, is she gone?”

“No Saeran, she isn’t.” I stand from the chair and face him.

He covers his face in an instant and flees. I call out to him, but he disappears into the dark, rainy swamp. I take off after him, pleading for him to come back. 

“Saeran! Saeran!” I wail. The mud is above my ankles. My arms and legs are bruised from the logs and branches. I have to find him. I call out for him over and over, desperately trying to scream above the storm. But I can’t see him. I can hardly see anything.

I stumble upon a snake that strikes at me and I shriek in fear. The blonde woman I saw earlier appears from the foliage and uses a stick to push away the snake.

“You ought to have better sense, dear.” She coos into my ear. “Nobody goes out into the swamp on a night like this.”

She wraps her arm around my shoulders and leads me into a cabin.

“I don’t understand. Why did you bring me here?” I shiver.

“Well, dear, I thought you’d appreciate me saving you from that snake.” She smiles. It is not a kind smile.

She offers me a drink. It doesn’t look like any alcohol I’ve seen. It’s bright blue. I try to decline, but she insists I take a sip. It’s very bitter. I cough and she chuckles.

I’m sniffling. More from the renewed loss of my husband than from the cold.

“You poor dear. You’re so cold. Here, have another sip.” She says cloyingly as she attempts to push the flask into my hands.

I utter a brief response amidst my tears. “I’ll be alright. Thanks.”

“Alright dear.” She sets down the flask and lifts up a blanket. “Here. We’ll wrap you in this then. So you don’t catch a cold.”

I stand up and she wraps the blanket around my body. She doesn’t let go. Her arms curl tightly around me. She presses her cheek against mine.

“Please let go.”

“Oh now, don’t say that. We’re only just getting to know each other.”

I struggle against her embrace. “Let go!”

She chuckles and tightens her grip.

I start struggling more frantically as she restrains me. But I can feel my movements becoming more sluggish. I hear her cackle through my screams.

The door slams open but I can hardly react to see who it is before I’m thrown onto the bed. 

I can hear a struggle. I try to roll over and see who stopped the witch, but I can barely move now.

I feel cold, rough hands lift me into their arms and carry me back out into the rain. But for some reason I am not afraid. Before my vision goes completely dark I try to look at my rescuer’s face. He has white hair, but his skin is olive green and leathery.

The last thing I hear before I lose consciousness is a woman screeching: “I’ll kill you alligator man! Just like I would any four-legged gator! You hear me? I’ll kill you!”

~

In the morning, I am told that Dr. Han wishes to see me and I’m escorted to his laboratory in the swamp.

As I enter the building, a shapely brunette leading two cloaked figures approaches me.

“You’re Mrs. Choi?”

“Yes,” I responded, watching the two figures as they walk away. They’re completely concealed. Even their hands and faces. “Dr. Han is expecting me.”

“Please follow me. You may wait in his office.”

From his office I can see Dr. Han overseeing several men carry a gator from a gurney onto a table underneath a large, strange apparatus. They strap the gator down as Dr. Han turns to leave.

I watch silently as he enters the office and begins to operate the apparatus. A high-pitched noise fills the room as Dr. Han stares at his watch.

After a few seconds, the sound is stopped and Dr. Han speaks through a comm.

“Take him out. Put him in a cage alone. We’ll run the test series on him in an hour. And bring in another specimen.”

He turns to me before speaking again.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Choi, for the wait. This experiment is very urgent.” He pauses for a moment to adjust his tie. “Remarkable creatures aren’t they?” He gestures to the alligator being carried away from the table.

“I suppose.”

“I’ve been conducting experiments for years, exploring the possibility of accelerating the healing process of humans using extracts from these creatures. And about two years ago, I thought I’d found the answer. I conducted an experimental treatment on those who had been badly mangled in accidents. The results were miraculous. Bones, tendons, muscles, even nerves and skin mended completely in a matter of weeks.”

“That’s very interesting, doctor, but what does that have to do with my husband?”

“I’m afraid it has everything to do with your husband. I’m sure you’re aware of the plane crash that nearly killed him?”

I slowly nod.

“Your husband was the worst of the lot. He was on the brink of death. Completely broken. And horribly disfigured.”

I vaguely remembered telling my husband before he vanished that he hardly looked like he’d been in a crash at all.

“Sadly, several months after his recovery I became aware of some unintended effects-“

The brunette assistant entered the room.

“Doctor, come quickly. It’s #6 again.”

“I see. Mrs. Choi please follow me.”

As I followed the pair down the hallway I could hear growls. Upon entering the room I see a snarling man on a bed, writhing underneath the grip of three men. The left half of his face is covered with green leathery scales.

Dr. Han performed a brief examination.

“Another sedative, doctor?”

“No. It seems the brain tissue has been affected. Use the ice pack and monitor him.”

The assistant left the room and returned with a large heavy blanket which was draped over the struggling man. Shortly after, his muscles relaxed and he became calm.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“One of my patients.”

“Then this is…” Horror crept into my heart.

“The aftereffects.”

“I don’t understand- how-“ My voice trembled.

“I do not know. I have been trying to find out for the past several months.”

“And the ice blanket?”

“Reptiles cannot internally regulate their temperature, so cold has a depressant effect on them.”

“Reptiles? But these aren’t-“

And then I understood. Or rather I was forced to accept it. As much as I didn’t want to. Dr. Jumin Han’s patients were turning into alligators as a result of his treatment. And my husband was one of those patients.

I should’ve been distraught. Or maybe angry. But all I could think of was how Saeran felt he needed to carry this burden himself. I couldn’t imagine how scared and alone he had been these past several months. I needed to see him.

As the doctor walked me out I asked him whether there was any hope of reversing these effects.

“There is a slight chance. But my testing is far from complete. Against my advice, your husband insists upon taking that chance tonight. The risk is extremely great, Mrs. Choi. This treatment could worsen his condition or kill him.”

“I will talk to him.”

“Please do.”

~

As night fell, I waited for Saeran to arrive at the doctor’s office. 

When he saw me he once again tried to conceal his face and flee. I grasped his arm.

“Saeran! Please don’t run away! Not again. Dr. Han explained everything. Including why you’re here tonight.” I tugged at his arm, trying to get him to face me. “Please, Saeran. It doesn’t make any difference. I’m your wife and I love you.”

Saeran still wouldn’t look at me. “You know about tonight?” 

“Yes. Please don’t do this, Saeran. The risk is too great. Please just wait. Wait for Dr. Han to complete the tests. Please I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” His voice was gravelly but choked with emotion. “I’d rather have died.”

“Please don’t say that, Saeran. I love you. No matter what. You know that, right?”

“…yes.”

“Then please trust me. I’ve been so worried about you. I’ve missed you so much. Look at me please.”

Saeran turned to face me at last. Revealing his crocodilian face. His eyes shone with tears.

I cradled his face in my palms.

“I love you. And I don’t want to lose you. Even if it means being married to an alligator man. Please don’t do this.”

He muttered my name in a half-sob and I embraced him. He felt so cold to the touch. And his soft skin was replaced with scales. But none of it mattered. He was still Saeran, so he was perfect. He sank into my embrace as if he had existed for an eternity without being held. His hard hands clung desperately to my back. His ridged face buried itself in my neck. 

“Are you sure?” His breath shuddered against my skin. “You can love an alligator man?”

“As long as the alligator man is my Saeran.”

[delicately-written]

35 things I’m convinced Peter Parker does:

1. Will have moments where he just randomly states questions like “why are apartments called apartments, when they’re all stuck together?” or “if you write a book about failure, and it fails, is it called success?”.

2. Gets all shy and flustered whenever he sees you in his clothes, loving how it gives you sweater paws and reaches your knees.

3. Finding out that his Spider-man because he left his backpack over at your house after a study session, and you “accidentally” opened his bag to find his suit in it. “Please tell you're not some weird cosplayer dude and that you actually are Spider-man”.

4. Calls your parents Mr. and Mrs, despite the fact that they've told him to call them by their names.

5. Him loving to buy shirts with science puns on them, not even caring if has to explain the joke every time someone doesn’t understand it. “do you get it?! like periodically, you know, the periodic table!”.

6. Tries to do the upside down Spider-man kiss, but ends up falling flat down on his face.

7.  He likes to buy the sweets and cereals that have a Spider-man packaging on them - He once bought a cereal that was absolutely horrible, but was too prideful that someone made a cereal of him that he pretended it was good and ate it anyway. 

8. Him loving to just hold your hand as often as he possibly can. This includes falling asleep on you with your hands laced together, walking around Queens as he swings your hands in the air, playing tricks where he pretends to give you something but ends up lacing his hands with yours. He just loves how warm and small they are compared to his.

9. He can only have his sandwiches if they have pickles in them and if it’s squished down real flat.

10. Will be so competitive in games of Mario Kart. Literally to the point where if you win and he loses he wouldn’t talk to you until you promised to watch Star Wars with him and say “You’re better than me at Mario Kart... there, I said it, you happy now?”.

11. Always blushes cherry red whenever you catch him staring at you, pulling at his collar because you decided to be a little bit cheeky by winking and smiling at him from afar.

12. Him growing a habit of having to lock his bedroom door after aunt may walked in on him doing a thor impression. To say he was embarrassed was an understatement.

13. He has a secret stash of lollies (gummy bears to be exact) hidden underneath his bed, and always freaks out whenever he checks and sees it’s not there anymore, only to remember that he ate them the night before during a Star Wars marathon. 

14. Him using pick up lines on you like, “are you made of fluorine, iodine, and neon? because you are F-I-Ne!”, and loving how you blush so hard every time. “No, no, I am NoT blushing! It’s just really hot in here!”

15. Him having to have at least two kisses before he heads off to class, and they obviously have to be on the lips.

16. He has literally watched his Star Wars DVD’s so many times, that they eventually stopped working. He refuses to replace them, saying that he’s were “special”, and “different” compared to the other ones.

17. His ringtone is the Spider-man theme song. 

18. Him constantly taking candid photos of you on his phone whenever you’re not looking. Most of them are photos of you looking adorable wearing his large sweater, and some are of you having the biggest smile because your favorite movie is on and you’re reciting the lines. He uses them as his background for everything.

19. Always has to walk you to every class you have, despite the fact that your classes are usually on the other side of the campus. His practically at Sonic speed as he runs back and forth from class to class.

20. He absolutely hates spiders, but immediately feels guilty whenever he wants to kill the one climbing on his bedroom wall because his literally Spider-man. So he normally just lets it be and tries not to think of where it has gone when he comes back and it’s not there.

21. He constantly asks Tony for advice when it comes anything he doesn’t understand, even though he never ends up taking the advice because it’s either too inappropriate or because Steve ends up stopping him before his words come out. “Tony, his only a kid!”, “And your point is...”.

22. Throws his phone across the room whenever someone interrupts his ‘cuddle time’ with you. “You know there’s a thing called putting it on silent right?”, he just squeezes you tighter in response.

23. He’s had to buy five new alarms (still counting) on multiple occasions because he has a habit of whacking the alarm whenever it rings in the morning, forgetting that he has super strength.

24. Whenever he goes shopping looking for clothes, he always takes time and consideration into buying something you would preferably like. He just knows your bound to steal it off him at some point, but he doesn’t mind because it always comes back smelling like you.

25. Whines, “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go”, in the morning before he has to go to school.

26. Him having a box filled with secret polaroid pictures of you. It’s hidden at the back of his closet behind all his clothes, and it has at least fifty photos in it, so he likes to pull them out every once and while and just admire all the details of each picture.

27. He has one of your shirts wrapped around his pillow as a cover because your scent alone can lull him to sleep.

28. Him practicing how to do a deep voice because everyone thinks that Spider-man is just a little boy in a tight-fitted suit that somehow got really cool superpowers (it's somewhat true).

29. Him practically mastering the technique of pretending aunt may’s food is delicious. His ‘technique” being smothering his food with an over excessive amount of sauce to the point where he can’t even taste the burntness of the meatloaf. 

30. There were multiple occasions where he’s accidentally called Tony “dad” and he immediately goes all embarrassed after. But in all honestly Tony couldn’t be any happier. 

31. Him being the clingiest person ever to the point where he lays on top of you so you can’t leave him, not even flinching whenever you try to push him or punch him off you. But he’ll end up getting off at some point because he’s realized you’ve hurt your hand when you punched his chest, “OW! Since when did your chest become a fricking brick wall!”

32. Him face-timing Steve because he doesn’t know how to put a tie on.

33. He loves to prank the Avengers by webbing everything upside down and onto the roof. He just loves to see their faces whenever his sitting upside down on a couch watching Star Wars.

34. Whenever he has to leave for a mission he likes to look through photos of you on his phone, even though he hasn’t left yet and you’re still right next to him. “You know I’m literally sitting next to you, right?”

35. Him honestly just being a complete softie for you and only you.

comment your favorite one from the list. if you even have a favorite one??

[sinfulwonders]

Alone

Prompt: “Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

Summary: What happens if Shuichi stays with Kokichi after Kaito punches him in the face? Takes place during Chapter 4 right after the Chapter 3 trial.

Words: 1720

Story after the cut! Enjoy!

Shuichi opened his eyes as the morning announcement sounded. He stared up at the ceiling, not bothering to move yet. He just kept thinking over and over.

We’ve lost so many people already.

Yesterday, the day after the third trial, the group had gone around and explored the newest areas of the school. There was also a key card that opened something, but Kokichi had swiped it up and ran away.

Because of course he did. Kokichi is just like that… But why won’t he trust us?

Why won’t he trust…me?

Shuichi sighed, deciding he shouldn’t try to figure out the enigma that was Kokichi Ouma this early in the morning and slowly got dressed. He had to keep going for the ones they had lost. For those that were still alive as well.

When he arrived at the dining hall, Gonta was screaming about fighting Monokuma while the others desperately tried to calm him down.

“Gonta, bro, you can’t do this alone!” Kaito tried to talk sense into the excitable giant.

Tsumugi spoke up in a worried voice, “I know you want to help, but it’s reckless to fight him bare-handed!”

“More like meaningless…”

Shuichi locked eyes with Kokichi for a moment, before the smaller turned away and continued speaking.

There was something different in his eyes. Or something was…lacking?

“Doing that wouldn’t stop the killing game.”

Gonta stopped and looked at the small boy, confused, “What? Why not?”

Kokichi ignored him, a smile creeping onto his face, “Why would you even want to stop the killing game anyway? It’s just starting to get fun!”

Everyone glared at the supreme leader, and his smile only grew wider, “What? Are you not confident enough to win the game? Well not me! I’m gonna win this game no matter what!”

Shuichi’s eyes widened.

Win the game? Does that mean he’s planning on killing?

Maki’s piercing glare grew more malicious as she said what Shuichi was thinking, “Do you plan to become the next blackened?”

Kokichi responded with a small laugh and a shrug, “Me? The next blackened? Sure, if it’d help me win!”

Shuichi stepped closer to Kokichi, “A-are you serious?”

Kokichi didn’t even bother to look at the detective as he responded, “Of course I am! I’m playing the game, riiight? And games are only fun when you play them seriously!” He looked around the room at his peers’ horrified expressions, “So come on everyone! Let’s all have fun! The game can’t continue until there’s another victim, so someone get to killing already!” He lifted his hands in the air, a dark expression adorning his face, “If you don’t then I’ll just have to kill someone myself!”

Before Shuichi could try to stop him, Kaito shot at the supreme leader like a bullet, “Why you little-”

WHAM!

Shuichi watched as Kaito punched Kokichi in the face. He berated the smaller boy in front of the stunned group, but Shuichi wasn’t really listening. He just stared, mouth agape, at the silent supreme leader. The boy that usually had a retort for all situations was now silent, just looking down at the ground, his bangs obscuring his expression.

Kaito finished and the group filed out one by one, leaving Kokichi alone.

No one even stopped to ask if he was okay…

Shuichi knew that even if Kokichi was going to lie, which he probably was, he had to try. He needed to make sure the boy was at least alright.

“K-Kokichi. I’m sorry that happened. Kaito has good intentions, but you…didn’t deserve that.”

Shuichi took a few steps forward when Kokichi didn’t bother responding, “Here, let’s get you an icepack. I’m sure there’s one in the kitch-”

“Leave me alone.”

“But I need to make sure you’re okay…” Shuichi mumbled as Kokichi was still fixated on the ground. He walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Kokichi jumped a little and looked up at the detective, eyes wide.

He looks so sad. Broken even.

“Here,” Shuichi nudged Kokichi to the table, “Sit. Let me go get you an icepack. Do you need anything else?”

Kokichi sat silently, and Shuichi shrugged as he wandered to the kitchen. He quickly returned after locating one in the freezer, but when he reentered the dining room he froze.

Kokichi was gone.

No.

Shuichi ran out of the dining hall and glanced around.

Where could he have gone?

He saw a flash of white down the hallway, and the detective started sprinting after it.

“Kokichi!” Shuichi shouted, his voice echoing down the hallway. Kokichi turned a corner and shot up the stairs. Shuichi followed him, even though the smaller was quick, much quicker than Shuichi had expected.

SLAM.

A door closed. Kokichi had entered a room, and Shuichi knew exactly where he was.

“Ko-Kokichi,” Shuichi panted as he closed the door to the ultimate detective lab. The supreme leader was facing away from the detective, instead staring at the rows and rows of poisons that lined the bookshelves of the lab.

“Kokichi, you can’t keep shutting me out!” Shuichi cried out much louder than he had intended, reaching out and pulling the smaller’s arm.

Kokichi slowly turned back around, shrugging out of Shuichi’s grip and giving the boy a sad smile. A bruise was already starting to form under his cheek, “Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”

Shuichi frowned and the two stared at one another for a long while.

It felt like an eternity when Shuichi finally spoke. It was so quiet, barely audible between the two boys, “I just…want to get to know you…Kokichi. I just want to understand you.”

Silence. Kokichi just stared up at the other, his expression blank.

Shuichi reached out his hand holding the ice pack, offering it to the boy.

He didn’t take it.

Shuichi let out a sigh and brought the icepack to the boy’s face, the other wincing at the sudden change in temperature, “Here. Why don’t you sit down?” He led the purple haired boy to one of the plush armchairs decorating the room, “And actually stay there this time…”

Shuichi dragged the other chair across the room, so that it was sitting directly across from Kokichi’s own. He plopped onto it and placed the icepack back on the silent boy sitting in front of him.

They sat like this for a while, until the icepack was no longer cold. Shuichi sat it gingerly down on the nearby table, and the two continued to sit.

“Hey Shuichi?”

Shuichi stared at the boy in front of him, surprised by the breaking of silence, “Yes?”

Kokichi looked up at the ceiling and stretched out his arms, “What would you do if you had one more day to live? Like you aren’t in this killing game, you’re just out in the real world living life and you have one more day. What would you do?”

Shuichi frowned.

What kind of question is that?

“I guess I would spend the day with my uncle.”

Kokichi laughed, “Aww Shuichi’s as boring as I expected! How disappointing…”

Shuichi scoffed, “Well then what would you do, Kokichi?”

“I’d pull off the biggest prank in the world!” Kokichi posed exactly like Shuichi expected a supreme leader would, arms outstretched as if presenting some master plan, but his expression made him seem more like some overzealous child playing a role, “Of course as a supreme leader of evil, I can never die!”

“Well of course,” Shuichi chuckled as the other continued to describe his plans for the ‘World’s Biggest Prank’. But suddenly, just as suddenly as he had come out of his depressive state, Kokichi trailed off and had once again fallen mute.

“Kokichi something has obviously been bothering you, and I suspect that it was bothering you even before Kaito…” Shuichi trailed off.

“Before Mr. Hero punched me? What a guy…” Kokichi mumbled. He then shrugged and looked at Shuichi with piercing purple eyes, “Sorry Shuichi, but I’m not as complex as you’re insisting on making me. I’m an evil supreme leader. A liar, and there isn’t much more to me than that. Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’re wrong, Kokichi. I refuse to believe that. You’re a liar for sure, but I don’t think you’re evil at all. We’ve been all alone in this room for how long now? A room filled with poisons no less, but you haven’t tried anythi-”

“Haven’t tried anything?” Kokichi burst from the chair and tackled Shuichi, throat in his hand as the armchair toppled over, “Well maybe I was just waiting for my chance!”

Shuichi didn’t let himself struggle, even though Kokichi’s small hands were held firmly around his neck. He sat there and stared with a small frown on his face. Thinking.

What is the different factor? Kokichi wouldn’t just snap. What changed from the third trial?

“The keycard!” Shuichi exclaimed. He was able to speak with ease since Kokichi had never applied pressure. He then tilted his head, “Just what did it open, Kokichi?”

Kokichi gave the other an incredulous look as he released his hands from around the detective’s neck. He stood up, hands crossed over his chest and with a huff, spoke, “You’re just so boring, Shuichi.”

Shuichi stood up, righting the chair and lowering himself onto it once again, “So I’m right. It must have been really…not good if you’re this shaken by it.”

Kokichi scoffed.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone, Kokichi.”

Shuichi wasn’t sure what he was expecting Kokichi’s response to be. Yelling, running away, or trying to choke him again were all potential outcomes that ran through the detective’s mind. But Kokichi, ever the enigma, did none of those thing.

Instead, the boy fell to his knees, “Alone? Every single one of us is… alone.”

Shuichi kneeled beside the boy, noticing tears were running down his face.

These are real. They have to be.

Kokichi Ouma is crying.

“Kokichi…” But Shuichi didn’t know how to continue. So he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled the crying supreme leader into a tight hug. He heard Kokichi start to sob, his small body trembling in Shuichi’s embrace, “Kokichi…whatever you saw… we’ll face it together, okay?”

“My beloved detective…” The supreme leader whispered between sobs.

“I’m here.”

“You’re… so boring...”

Shuichi sighed, hugging the boy tighter, “You’re not alone.”

Kokichi returned the embrace.

[missbrunettebarbie]

So, I decided I would also publish a few chapters of my newest fic here. Enjoy!

Your heart's desire

Summary:

Regulus Black betrays the Dark Lord and lives to tell the tale.

Years later a strange boy appers out of nowhere claiming to be the son of James Potter and Regulus' own wife. Life as a former Death Eater just became complicated

Chapter 1: The traitor

It was a rare sight to see Albus Dumbledore going into shock. The defeater of Grindelwand, Master of the Elder Wand, Supreme Mugwamp, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts was a hard person to surprise. Yet, now he look like he might have a heart attack.

“Voldemort made a Horcrux?!”

The last word was almost spat out, like a curse. The boy that was facing the venerable wizard nodded. He was young, too young to have such a haunted gaze and so many lines on his face. But like many that were caught in Voldemort’s war, Regulus had grown up fast.

“Oh, I am quite sure he made several Horcruxes. The Dark Lord will want to have as many safety nets as possible.”

The boy fell silent again waiting for a response that would not come. Albus looked deeply troubled by these news. Luckily, his companions weren’t as well informed about the Dark Arts, so the idea of Horcruxes didn’t alarm them at all.

“Right. And you claim have one of these Hor-things, little brother?”

The speaker was another young boy, almost a man, who looked very similar to Regulus. Perhaps the biggest difference between them were Sirius’ muggle clothes and the hateful look on his face.

Sirius didn’t believe for a second his brother’s claims. Regulus could have not turned on the Dark Lord. Not when he had always been following mummy around, got into Slytherin and even took the Dark Mark. Regulus was the perfect pureblood, and Sirius hated him for it.

When the letter first came to the Potters’ house, he had assumed his little brother was laying a trap for him.

Come to the Leaky Cauldron. I have important thing to discuss with you. My allegiances may be changing

As if Sirius would truly believe that. Sadly, Albus had insisted they go and find put what Regulus wanted, though the man had been far more cautious back than. But ever since Regulus had told him Kreacher’s tale (Kreachers?! Honestly, if there was anyone Sirius would trust less than Regulus, it was the mad House Elf), Albus seemed to lose all his common sense, trusting every single word that came out of the Death Eater’s mouth.

“I do not claim to have it, merely that I know what it is and where it is.” Regulus clarified, with a glare at the other Black. Then, turning to Dumbledore: “We must find it and destroy it now. I am sure the Dark Lord will soon find out about my betrayal.”

“No doubt, you want some assurances about your safety when that happens”

Finally, Dumbledore seemed to remember who he was talking to. Regulus just looked at him with a straight face:

“Can you blame me for wanting to live, Headmaster?”

“No, I cannot, my boy. I have to confess, I have never imagined you of all people would turn against the Pureblood ideaology”

“You think I care about useless Pureblood propaganda when Voldemort had the temerity to create a Horcrux? You know what this means, Proffesor. He is truly….truly a monster”

Sirius Black and James Potter snorted at the rather late realization, but Dumbledore only nodded as if Regulus made perfect sense.

“Indeed, it seems we have a common enemy, Regulus Black. So I must ask you: are you willing to oppose Voldemort and risk your life and the lives of all who you love in the process?”

“My life has been hanging by a thread since the day I took the Dark Mark. As for the people I love, well, I only really care about Kreacher right now.”

Sirius groaned at the mention of the hated creature, while James snickered at the idea of a Death Eater caring about a House Elf.

“In this case, Mr Black, let us talk about this…. Locket”

Regulus nodded and started to explain everything he knew. Which wasn’t much. From Kreacher’s knowledge and the Dark Lord’s occasional ramblings he had deduced that Voldemort had turned Slytherin’s locket into a Horcrux. He also knew that whatever potion was there to protect it must be something extremely dangerous, maybe even deathly. He had entertained the idea of going into the cave himself and drinking the potion, but that meant he would most likely day. And even more, he will die before the locket could be destroyed which meant such a sacrifice would be most likely for nothing. He could give the locket to Kreacher, but who could say the foul object won’t try to harm the House Elf?

Sadly, his only option was trusting Albus Dumbledore and his merry band of do-gooders. Do-gooders that included Sirius and James freaking Potter.

Regulus liked to think he was above school grudges, but he would not hesitate for a second to curse the man that had led his friends into playing pranks on Slytherin House for seven years. If there was one good thing in being a Death Eater was being able to curse anyone you wanted without worrying to much about consequences (unless the person you wanted to hex was a more influential Death Eater than you, of course). Alas, it seemed he will have to tolerate James Potter for the time being.

For his part, Albus Dumbledore wasn’t very happy with this turn of events. Of course, the fact they finally had a lead to destroying Tom once and for all filled him with joy. Joy that was overshadowed by he knowledge that his former student has fallen so deep into the Dark Arts he used one of humanity’s worst creations to preserve his life. There was also the matter of Regulus Black. The boy seemed genuine and his information was invaluable, but Albus still couldn’t banish the uneasy sensation he felt at the thought of fully trusting this person who had been raised to believe in the superiority of his blood, who had spent seven years with Slytherins who had filled his head with nonsense about Tom’ greatness and who, after graduating, had pledged himself to Britain’s worst Dark Lord. There was also the matter that he was a Black. Yes, it was hypocritical considering Sirius was a Black as well, but Albus had seen Sirius reject all of his family’s teaching ever since he was sorted into Gryffindor. On the other hand, Regulus had actively embraced them. Until now, when he conveniently switched sides and brought with him the means of Voldemort’s demise. Could it be a trap? Could Tom be cunning enough to try and trick them like this? To what end? And why use Regulus? Because he had thought Sirius would trust his brother? In that case, Tom would have miscalculated. Sirius distrusted him more than anyone else. Maybe Riddle had thought Albus will offer a second chance to a young boy more readily than to a grown wizard?

There were too many questions and their time was too short. In the unlikely case the young Black was telling the truth they needed to act now. The Horcrux must be found as soon as possible. Yet, he could not forget the like hood of a trap.

“Alright, Mister Black, let’s assume I believe you and I am willing to offer my protection. You do understand you will have to tell me exactly where the Horcrux can be found. After that, you will come with me to the Order of the Phoenix’ headquarters – I assume you know what the Order is from your master – and tell us everything you know.”

“No.”

The firm word was so surprising that Potter and the older Black gasped and even Dumbledore’s eyes widen in surprise.

“You, Death Eater scum, have the temerity to..”

“Enough, James. Let’s hear him out”

Regulus took a deep breath. It was clear that he did not found it easy to oppose the great Albus Dumbledore. In his own way, the headmaster was as frightening as the Dark Lord. Yet, he had already chosen to stand against one, he will not let himself be bullied by another.

“Let’s make something clear, Dumbledore, I had once decided to join an illegal organization and follow blindly the orders of a very powerful, but slightly mad wizard, and as a result I have no intention of doing it again. I am not one of your Gryffindors who you can order around like a puppy…”

“Why, you liitle shit..”

Regulus paid no mind to either the interruption or the insult.

“…. nor am I a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff who’s willing to work for you for a greater cause amd as such will excuse you a great many things. I am a Slytherin, one that has already defied the Dark Lord. I refuse to trade him for you, Professor. I will fight against him and as such I will fight by your side, but do not think me another puppet. So, I will not tell you where the Horcrux is. I will show you. I want to be there when it is destroyed once and for all. After that…. We’ll see.”

If the older man was insulted by his harsh words he did not show it, he just nodded.

“I suppose I can agree with these terms. However, it will not be just the two of us that go to retrieve the Horcrux, we will be accompanied by a number of trusted people. And Kreacher.”

At the House Elf’s name both James and Sirius looked confused, while Regulus fought down the urge to swear. While asking for Kreacher to come with them was a rational demand as the elf was the only one who had entered the cave beforehand it was also a strategic move. Dumbledore did not trust Regulus and needed insurance it was not a trap. It did seem like the old man believed him when he had said Kreacher was the only creature he still loved. Sadly, the former Death Eater had no choice but to agree.

“One more thing, Mister Black.”

“Oh?”

The young man struggled to keep his face a mask of politeness, but it all fell apart at Dumbledore’s next question:

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“Yes.”

He was proud of how steady his voice came. Meanwhile, Sirius and James were getting angry again and started pointing their wands at him. Reg fought the urge to do the same. He had too many unpleasant memories of being hexed by the Marauders at Hogwarts. He forced himself to not think about it.

“I killed two muggles. Mother and daughter two months ago.”

“You, bastard! How could you do something like that?!”

“Oh, shut up, Sirius. You tried to kill a classmate at he age of fifteen!”

“How… how do you know that? Did Snivellus..”

“Sirius” Albus tried to silence the Gryffindor. They could not afford to lose track of their objective. “Excuse me, Mr. Black, but I fell to see how your brother’s sins absolve your own.

This sobered Regulus.

“They do not. I know it does not mean much, but I did not want to kill them. The other Death Eater, they were torturing them. It was… horrible. I don’t even know why they were in the Dark Lord’s house but they were screaming and …”

And the woman kept begging me to help her daughter. I should have tried something, anything but I was too much of a coward.

“… and I killed them to end their suffering.”

He searched the faces of the first three who he had ever heard this confession. Potter looked disturbed, Sirius a bit mollified while Dumbledore betrayed no emotion. Just like the Dark Lord, indeed.

“I see. How did Voldemort react to your act of mercy?”

“I lied to him and told him that I thought any kind of attention given to Muggles is a waste of a wizard’s time. He seemed to believe me.”

Ironically, the other three did not seem as convinced. But Regulus has had enough chit-chat.

“Well, Albus” he used the Headmaster’s first name on purpose “if there is nothing else, I would like if we start our Horcrux hunt.”

“Yes, I believe that will be best”

[iwritethat]

Tim Drake: Puppy

A/N: Doggy Plan 4/?, Tim struck me as a Sheep Dog person but this is the DC universe and Krypton exists... :)

Warnings: Mentions of undergarments? *GIFs do not belong to me.*

>>>>——————————>

Look after one of Krypto's Pups they said.

"It'll be fun." Kon said.

"Only for a month or two." Kara has added on.

Tim had his own apartment after moving from the Manor, minding a puppy wasn't too much of a chore for him at the moment especially if it was a favour for one of his best friends. Alas, he was grateful they didn't give him the whole litter as that might've been too much to handle alongside vigilantism but a month or two with one companion wouldn't be so bad.

How wrong he was.

The experience had its ups and downs, yet he'd grown somewhat attached to the creature and his little quirks. The pup had a mischievous streak no doubt about it, often enjoying plays of tug of war and stealing things littered about the apartment were only part of it. However, when he awoke one morning, Tim strolled into his kitchen to find the nameless white, half alien, pup proudly seated outside his bedroom with his treasure strewn before him. Hesitantly, the vigilante stepped forward, analysing his recent discovery before he became instantly flushed and embarrassed.

A Batman Thong.

He wasn't sure what to do with them, figuring his pup had brought them as some form of play but alas he had his suspicions of exactly who they belonged to.

The 56 year old Ms Baker across the hall wasn't a possibility, it simply didn't fit her fashion choices, and it definitely didn't fit the size of Mr Crosby who consistently hung his boxers on the balcony which left his remaining prime suspect - (Y/n) (L/n). As much as they were on friendly terms he knew you had yet to reach a personal enough level to slip your undergarments into casual conversation, usually exchanges consisted of asking how each other's day was during hall passing's or crossings in the lobby.

Regardless, assuming it was a one off occurrence he chose to ignore it.

Although, after a month the underwear was piling up just as the frequency was increasing and Tim had no idea exactly how to handle the situation. Of course, it just had to be his cute neighbour in the apartment complex as the proximity made sense but how the pup had obtained her panties remained a mystery. Every other day his companion would bring a new pair of delicates thoroughly pleased with the growing confusion reaching his masters features. He even called his older brother for advice, the latest artefact of the day being red lace underwear much to Timothy's horror - the thought had potentially crossed his mind but he most definitely hadn't planned on seeing your private items under these circumstances.

.

However Dick found the whole situation amusing and couldn't stifle his laughter when Tim presented him with a box containing the topic of choice but didn’t let him open it for confidential reasons.

"And the pup keeps bringing you ladies panties?"

"Yes! I'm pretty sure they belong to (Y/n), I overheard her talking to her friend the other day about how she's either misplacing her laundry or there's a serious pervert problem." The concern was evident in Tims voice, although Dick couldn't understand his lack of confidence regarding solving the issue.

"Just return them already, explain that your dog stole them and that you're sorry for the trouble. You'll finally talk to (Y/n) rather that longingly stare and crush on her from afar." Dick gave a lopsided smile, leaning back against the couch.

"We do talk! And I was going to, but every time I got to her door I panicked. Standing there with a box of her underwear, that's so creepy and I don't want (Y/n) to think I'm weird." Tim desperately explained, and they could understand his argument as he came to a halt with an exasperated sigh.

“Nah, just that you’re the pervert she was talking about.” Duke openly laughed, finding the whole situation hilarious.

"Alright, do it tomorrow and just tell (Y/n) the truth." The eldest confidently stated, Duke nodding in agreement.

"Right, I will do that. Not so hard." Tim wholeheartedly spoke, determination renewed thanks to his visitors but required serious consideration on how to handle the matter in the least awkward way.

"He's not gonna do it." Duke quietly chuckled, shaking his head whilst fussing the pup on his lap who gleefully barked in response.

.

The next day he had every intention to do so, a month was long enough and with the numerous delicates his puppy had brought back he assumed you'd be running low. The box was situated under his arm and the wait was tantalising after he'd knocked, he'd evaluated the best terminology to use and ran over his explanation countless times until it was flawless. Yet despite all of that, he couldn't explain the sheer amount of relief his body experienced when you didn't answer the door and he could safely head back to his apartment next door.

Tim suddenly halted outside, unfamiliar mumbling automatically rebooting his senses as he quietly unlocked his door and stealthily entered his apartment to better hear the commotion of the potential enemy, dropping off the parcel in the process.

"I swear you better give those back before your hot owner comes back Snowball or I'll be arrested for breaking and entering!" The melodious voice immediately put him at comfortable ease, subconsciously bring a smile to his face in the process as your compliment didn’t fall on deaf ears as well as the nickname you’d given his temporary pet.

Upon reaching his living area, he found the white bundle perched on the sofa with you slowly prowling around like you were cautious as to not scare him away, it was cute watching you both like this. That is until you lunged across the couch, fingers hooking onto whatever the canine had in his jaws as he tugged against you in reply with playful barks emitting from his companion.

"Damn you're strong pup, but please... it's my last pair..." Your tone quietened at those last words, yet you continued with your game of tug of war.

"Yeah, he‘s tough huh?"

You instantly froze with a quiet squeak of surprise, your utter startling causing you to let go of your item and stumble to your feet in embarrassment after being caught. Meanwhile the furball happily plopped over to his owner, Tim kneeling to collect whatever he had taken from you but as he dropped the item into his hand the man flushed as you face palmed.

Tim stood, garment between his thumb and index finger as he offered it back to you unable to make eye contact and a flood of apologies escaping his lips, if only he could see how flustered you were too.

"Thanks and about your apartment, sorry - it's just my last pair and I couldn't lose those before I went shopping." You briskly explained, pocketing the underwear with a sheepish smirk.

"Ah - yeah, about that..." Tim sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, walking over to the counter to pick up his previous cargo before handing it to you as he became increasingly flustered.

You opened the mysterious thing, rooting through the contents with a contrast of awkward relief and mild concern. Your red lacy pair, your ribbon briefs, the basic garments, they were all here.

"So... you just kept a box of my underwear in your kitchen?" Your tone was mildly suspicious but held humour as you cocked an amused brow.

"Don't say it like it that! At first I thought it was an accident, the pup only brought back a Batman thong and I thought it was a prank. But then it continued, almost everyday and I couldn't just throw away whosever they were after I'd attained so many. I didn't even know they were yours at first, it was simply a logical deduction. It's not like I could just knock and say, oh here's your panties that my dog stole." Tim instantly justified, hands waving up in defence as he flushed even further, cute really.

"True, what would the neighbours think about us. But thanks for not throwing them you’ve saved me a shopping trip and again, sorry for intruding." You gave a kind smile, along with your apology whilst the pup wagged his tail at the exchange.

"How did you get in exactly?" Now Tim was curious, crossing his arms and raising an expectant brow at your awkwardness.

"Um, I may've climbed over the balcony. I was preparing dinner when I caught sight of your puppy tugging my last piece of underwear off of my clothes line - I had no choice to but to chase after him. Lord knows how he managed to get across that gap." As you explained, you walked Tim out onto his own balcony, pointing over at yours whilst the male paled slightly.

Admittedly, Tim was worried for your safety, falling from the third floor would definitely cause you some injury and the last thing he'd want was to ever let you get hurt. Yet the more pressing matter was that Kryptos offspring may have inherited certain abilities that allowed him access to your home.

"That's one talented dog." He only managed an uncertain remark as to not clue you in on his Alien related thoughts.

"Right? Anyway, I should probably get back over there." You happily chimed, moving to sit on the balcony railing before Tim automatically  grasped your waist to pull you back down to his level.

"Wha-What are you doing?!"

"I left my key on the side when I gave chase, my door is locked so I've gotta go back the way I came." You shrugged but gave a small laugh at your hasty behaviour, you never expected your first proper meeting with your hot neighbour to go down like this and you’d hoped it’d improve your relationship with him.

"No, you're not doing that. You're here because of my house guest so I'll do the honours, please wait here (Y/n) and help yourself to anything you like." The male gave a weak smile, ensuring he’d deterred your adventurous intentions before hopping onto the railing himself with ease.

"Anything? Hm I guess fair is fair, where do you keep your underwear neighbour?" Your mischievous tone caught Tim off guard, his words faltering at the forwardness of your question.

"I - (Y/n) -"

"I'm kidding Tim, sorry I'll keep Snowball here company." Your neighbour shook his head with a smile, stabilising himself before hopping over effortlessly compared to the strain it took you to waddle across the connecting ledge.

.

Tim returned through his front door moments later, finding you and the pup situated on the couch holding up the Batman Thongs.

"Ah (Y/n), I know we skipped a few steps in the friendship ladder but I've seen enough of your underwear for the past month." Tim jokingly commented, covering his eyes as he placed your keys on the coffee counter before you.

"Oh no, these aren't mine..."

You both stared at each for a moment, then back at the thongs with realisation hitting you simultaneously.

"Ms Baker!"

"Ah since your pup stole them you should return it Tim."

"You held them last!" At that you tossed them in his direction, the man instinctively dodging whilst the pup caught them mid air and brought them back to you.

Only, it wasn’t normal.

The pup was suspended in the air, tail frantically wagging as your breath hitched whilst you backed away ever so slightly.

“Neigh-neighbour... I um, I think I know how your friend stole my panties...”

It was the underlying fear in your hushed whisper that caused Tim to focus his attention on you rather than the beverages he was making, his discovery caused him to sigh with his previous assumptions proven correct by the flying super canine.

“What - oh crap... Um I think you should stay for dinner, I can explain...”

“Ye-Yeah...”

.

Best first date ever. At least it would be when you retold that story about your boyfriend and his canine, Snowball the Superdog.

[sirrobin126]

Heads up:  Very Long post about Lionel Luthor and Martha Kent

Oh my, how glad i am that you spontaneously decided to ask me about that. You could have chosen any ship in the world and yet, here we are, I guess i’ll just have to think of something for Mionel on the fly then. 

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa

Martha pushes the pull door but she never gets angry about it, she either silently corrects herself or has a little giggle at the fact that she didn’t read the easily observable sign. It’s not a big inconvenience so it doesn’t bother her, and usually if she misses the sign it’s because she has something more useful to do anyway. Lionel almost never pushes a pull door because he applies the “ten steps ahead” model to his entire life and his commitment to the “Master of the Universe Dramatic Entrance” #aesthetic would be crushed if he messed up something as simple as opening a door. That being said, sometimes he gets so hyper focused on an issue that he will walk headfirst into a door that he didn’t realise was there, and heaven forbid you be in his path for the rest of the day after that. 

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them

I feel like this is a no-brainer for Mr “I write about Martha in my diary so much my Earth 2 self falls in love with her”, but it’s defs Lionel. Martha is much more about verbal and physical confirmations of affection but Lionel’s not so great at being vulnerable or expressing feelings in words. Declamatory gestures and gifts are far more his thing (also he’s a giant nerd who of course draws little hearts with martha’s name in his diary).

Who starts the tickle fights

Lionel. Martha is ticklish and he isn’t. Never reveal a weakness in front of a Luthor.

Who starts the pillow fights

Well they’re both grown adults so they don’t really have pillow fights, but Martha. Lionel never expects it of her, and ends up copping a pillow directly to the face, leading to feelings of betrayal and wounded pride. 

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile

Okay well, this is obvious on the surface considering the frequency and softness with which he looks at her is beyond compare. Lionel gets to sleep very late, and has trouble disengaging his mind so of course he watches Martha, smiling because he can hardly conceive that someone so perfect exists in the world. However, Martha wakes up very early, a habit bred of the fact that she spent most of her adult life on the farm. Now that she works at an office she doesn’t know how to break herself out of the habit, so she either gets up and makes breakfast, or she sits in bed, enjoying the first bit of laziness she’s had in forty ears and watching Lionel. Sometimes it’s because he looks more peaceful, but most of the time it’s the opposite, Lionel talks in his sleep and tends to have a lot of dreams where he argues with people. It amuses Martha to no end, hearing the ridiculous things he debates whilst asleep. 

Who mistakes salt for sugar

Neither of them. Martha’s a big believer in tasting all her ingredients before she cooks them and has just developed the habit of dipping her finger into the spoon before she pours it in. Lionel, on the other hand, hasn’t set foot in a kitchen since 1983 when he tried to make a batch of popcorn (which he burnt) so he doesn’t have much opportunity for mistaking ingredients at all. It’s never happened as a prank either, because who would want to prank Martha Kent? And Lionel is notoriously difficult to prank because he’s so paranoid that he suspects multiple ulterior motives on the simplest of exchanges.

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning

Well, Martha would never because she is both competent in the kitchen and a kind person. Lionel, however, has as much experience in the kitchen as he does with altruism. Until he starts wanting to impress Martha that is, and he beings making her stuff in the kitchen (sandwiches, pasta, and anything that he can read how to do off the packet). Then he learns how to use an oven and a microwave and, to his dismay, develops a love of two minute noodles. Martha would be too considerate to let the microwave beep, but a noodle seeking Lionel will often be heard at one am, first by a loud beeping, then a louder swear as Lionel realises he forgot to press the button.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines

Neither of them really do cheesy. Martha is a very sincere and sweet person, and Lionel is so besotted that he has no choice but to be sincere in response. However, sometimes his praise of her is so over-the-top and his personality is so #dramatique that he could come off as cheesy if he weren’t entirely committed to the dramatic in every aspect of his life.

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order

Lionel. 

“It just makes sense. Why- why wouldn’t you put them in order? Doing it by subject is ridiculous unless you employ some sort of decimal system, otherwise it becomes chaotic as many books have multiple subjects and themes. 

I understand separating fiction and non-fiction, but, why do the books with blue covers have their own shelf? This is…this is a nightmare. Please stop laughing at me, Martha.” 

Lionel’s library is entirely ordered and searchable via his own personal computer catalogue. Martha just knows where she puts things, and if she doesn’t, she’ll look around for it near other books like it. She doesn’t mind Lionel putting the books in order, but if he thinks she’s going to stop putting books she’s just finished at the end of the bookcase so that she can find it again, he’s got another thing coming. 

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies

Martha not only tastes ingredients for their freshness, she can’t help but taste a product before putting it in the oven. Lionel doesn’t even think about licking the spoon. The brownie is what comes after the baking, why would he eat the lesser product just for the instant gratification? Martha admires his willpower in waiting for the finished product, but once it’s out of the oven, his patience vanishes. Lionel doesn’t like to wait. He will do it, but once he sees the benefits outweigh the cost he will spring. This has more than once led to a certain billionaire’s mouth being burnt and sore, somehow Lionel never decides the cost of a burnt mouth outweighs the benefit of hot brownie.

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion

Lionel. Remember when I said Lionel was all about gestures. He may not always be able to express what he feels, but he will damn sure light up the dining room whenever he can for no reason other than to make Martha feel special.

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen

Martha. I know, according to the veritas plot line (fucking veritas) that Lionel is the artist, but he tends to keep his stuff more private, and has to be dragged into drawing in front of anyone else. Martha needs to have busy hands so she just picks up a pen and scribbles on whatever is lying around. When she takes messages on the phone she’ll write on anything: old bills, newspapers, her hand or Lionel’s if it’s lying too close. Lionel doesn’t mind, of course he doesn’t, how could he? It makes him smile every time she shows him that casual affection, she doesn’t even realise it, but he treasures those moments like they’re pure gold (or wacky alien tech, which is apparently his major obsession)

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation

Lionel has to go on conferences and shit all over the country. He always wants to buy Martha ridiculous gifts from everywhere, but she won’t have any of it. Instead he buys her the classiest memento he can that doesn’t cost more than the Kent Farm. When Martha has to start going to places for her senatorial duties, she does the same thing, sort of. Martha gets a kind of sadistic pleasure out of seeing Lionel have to pretend to really aesthetically appreciate a tacky magnet in the shape of a cowboy hat with a bad joke about beer written on it, and then sticking it to his pristine fridge next to other magnets in the shape of a corn cob a big pair of red lips, respectively.

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines

Martha does, but she doesn’t take anything they say seriously. Lionel is reluctant to take them at all, and if they give him an answer he doesn’t like, or he think’s is accurate, you better believe he’ll call the editor to complain. 

Martha can’t prove it, but she’s sure he actually bought one of the magazine companies after  a quiz said that they were only a 44% match. She just happened to notice that the quizzes always seemed a little more rigorous and scientifically based after Lionel got upset with them.

Lionel definitely did buy the magazine, but he didn’t tell Martha because he was worried that Martha would think he’d overreacted. 

He definitely overreacted. 

Thanks @justanotherfan, I can always count on you to care about Mionel, sorry it’s so rambling, I just have so many feelings.

[westywrites]

The Orphan Experiments

Chapter 1

Time for a new multi-part story! Updates on this one will be every Wednesday and Friday similar to the last one. Once again, this is not the newest story in terms of how recently it was written, but it has, like the others, been under continual editing. I think this is one of my favourites because I really the characters.

I’m going to try out something new and put little excerpts from the chapter at the top above the Read-More and see how that works. 

Next

Excerpt: “Now I need to make sure you understand why exactly these kids live here instead of with other foster parents." Mr. Kleary nodded. "They are problem children, very troubled. They all have been kicked out of multiple homes and schools. They don't get along well with anyone and certainly not each other. What these children need is a heavy hand, do you understand?"

The house was large and foreboding; three stories high and very plain. The dull lawn and perfect off-white paint seemingly screamed that nothing good happens there. A young man with messy hair stood on the front porch, biting his lip. Shortly after he knocked the door was opened by a girl with curly black hair. She stared at him, deep brown eyes making quick judgments of the tie on his neck. The man smiled.

"Hello!" He bent a little to get more on eye level with the small girl. "My name is James Kleary, may I come in?" The girl said nothing in response. "I'm to be your new skills teacher here, it's very nice to meet you." The man put out his hand as if to shake the girl's. At this motion she flinched and ran up the stairs against the right wall of the entryway. Mr. Kleary stood awkwardly for a moment before calling out the name he had made note of before he came and bracing himself to meet the kind of woman he expected to run a place like this. A clattering of footsteps was heard from a room down the hall. A stout woman, easily in her fifties, hurried to the door; her face was kind as she invited him in. The lady led him down the hall and into a bright kitchen. The cheerful atmosphere contrasted to the rest of the house and did a great deal to ease Mr. Kleary's nerves.

"Okay, so here are m-" Mr. Kleary began to pull out his resume but was quickly interrupted by the lady.

"When can you start?" She was buzzing about, pulling things out of cupboards and putting things away, seemingly randomly.

"But you haven't even seen-”

"Doesn't matter! These children just need someone to put up with them for some time during the day. Lord knows I can't do it on my own all the time. The old skills teacher, he was tough but this batch is bad." She made a judgmental sound. "Those savages got the man in the hospital this time."

"Oh my," Mr. Kleary responded less to what the lady had said but more how she had said it. She talked about the children as if they weren't human beings. "I'll start immediately if you'll have me."

"Oh good, good! My name is Ms. Singer." She smiled tautly and extended a hand for him to shake. "I am the homeowner and head caretaker of the children here. I do all the cooking, cleaning and disciplining." She tossed a wooden spoon into the drawer and began to walk off. Mr. Kleary followed silently as Ms. Singer gave him a quick tour of the house. It had a simple layout with dull furniture and duller walls, just a standard four-bedroom home with three washrooms and a study. The children shared rooms; two girls in one and two boys in another. Ms. Singer lived in the master bedroom and the adjoining washroom was all hers. The final bedroom was small and unkempt with a tiny ensuite.

"This will be your room. You'll spend nights here but the rest of your time will be spent with the children." She pulled the door closed as they left. "You will teach in the study; history, English, math, all the usual subjects, taught following a strict curriculum. You will show up to meals on time, you will report any infractions to me immediately, no matter how minor. Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, definitely." He had zoned out entirely before they had even entered the bedroom. "Can I meet the kids now?"

“I suppose." The judgmental tone had crept back into Ms. Singer's voice. She led him to a living room where four kids were watching cartoons and looking bored. She stopped before she entered the room. "These are the kids. Now I need to make sure you understand why exactly these kids live here instead of with other foster parents." Mr. Kleary nodded. "They are problem children, very troubled. They all have been kicked out of multiple homes and schools. They don't get along well with anyone and certainly not each other. What these children need is a heavy hand, do you understand?"

"Loud and clear, Ms. Singer, or may I call you Andrea?" Mr. Kleary smiled.

"No, you may not." Her curt response made Mr. Kleary flinch a little. "These children need to learn respect so under no circumstances should they think of you or me as anything other than Ms. Singer and Mr. Kleary." She looked at him as though talking to one of the children of whom she thought so lowly. He nodded quickly. He was starting to doubt his choice in going to that house, but these children obviously needed someone who actually cared.

"The one in the corner, the little Mexican who answered the door when you knocked, her name is Rosa Falto, 10 years old, though she will not shut up about her birthday next week. She is a major flight risk, ran away from all the homes she's been in within the first few weeks. She’s scared of the world and incredibly shy but easily the most tolerable of the children. The girl laying on the floor is Willow Harrington, 12 years old. She is attention craving and overly emotional. She broke the nose and arm of the owner of her last home because he tried to comb out that Afro of hers. The ginger boy is Jacob O'Neil, 12 years old. He is a thief and a liar who lives to cause mischief. He was responsible for the prank that put their old skills teacher in the hospital. The little black boy is Tanner Cole, 11 years old. He claims to hate everyone and acts like it too. He is an angry child who will stay silent until it all comes out screaming." Ms. Singer gestured inside. "Now it's time for you to meet the devils."

The children all turned and watched silently as Mr. Kleary entered the room. He could tell by their faces that they had heard everything Ms. Singer had to say and that they had heard worse before. After an awkward moment of silence, the children went back to watching their cartoons and seemed to pretend that Mr. Kleary wasn't even there. Mr. Kleary shot a look back at the doorway, smiling and shooing Ms. Singer away. She sighed and left, her footsteps receding to the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight Mr. Kleary sighed and plopped into an empty spot on the couch. The boys, on either side of him, looked shocked and kind of afraid.

"Man, she's got a stick up her ass, doesn't she?" Mr. Kleary said to Tanner. "A stick so far up it hits her brain!" The children laughed slightly in surprise, disbelief on their faces. Except for Rosa, she just stared with wide eyes.

It took a while but each of the children eventually came to enjoy Mr. Kleary's antics. He was the strangest and happiest adult any of them had ever met. He pulled pranks on them as often as they tried to pull any on him and his lessons were taught in badly sung songs or horribly drawn cartoons; he drove Ms. Singer up the walls. The children loved it and Mr. Kleary loved the children. He came to understand them as so much more than Ms. Singer had made them out to be. Rosa was brilliant, Tanner wanted to be an artist, Willow wanted to play hockey, Jacob was an aspiring stand-up comedian. Each of the children was able to shine and every time they did Mr. Kleary was filled with pride. His strange ways even seemed to brighten Ms. Singer at times and she began to give him some leeway with how he taught. Though this was partly because she knew he would ignore the rules anyway.

One day, rain and a boring history lesson had the children complaining and fidgeting in their seats; it gave Mr. Kleary an idea.

"Ms. Singer!" Mr. Kleary half shouted as he ran down the hall, the children staring after him in confusion. "Ms. Singer, I had an idea!"

"Good lord, Mr. Kleary how many times must I tell you not to run?" Ms. Singer stepped out of the kitchen, her polka dot broom in hand. "You are going to fall and break something."

"It's a dreadful day." Mr. Kleary was smiling and bouncing slightly as he talked; standing far too close to her.

"I guess..." A bit of worry crossed her face. "What is it that you want?"

"I want to go to the museum!" Mr. Kleary put a hand on her shoulder. "I have a friend who is in charge of the guided tours there. If I call her she can arrange something by the time we get there!"

"What does a dumb museum have to do with it being a dreadful day?" Tanner asked, alerting the adults that the children had snuck down the hall.

"Dreadful days are museum days, of course!" Mr. Kleary said it as if it were obvious. "Do you want to come, Ms. Singer? It'll be fun!" He continued to bounce slightly.

"No, thank you." She looked at her watch. "There's too much to be done around here." She turned back towards the kitchen. "Be safe and don't do anything stupid."

"She said yes!" Mr. Kleary was halfway up the stairs before he paused to look back at the children. "What are you waiting for? We're going to the museum!" The children ran after him.

"Hello and welcome to the Richardson Street Museum. We first opened our doors to the public in 1962 with only..." the tour guide droned on in an unenthused voice.

"Don't bother with the script, we won't be listening." Mr. Kleary smiled as he slid a small bottle back into his shoulder bag. "If you just lead us around and tell us some cool facts every once in awhile we'll be happy." And so it went on like that, the children ran ahead and pointed to cool things and the guide seemed much happier to say the things he found fascinating. Mr. Kleary ran about with the children at times, but mostly he followed along, walking and chatting with the tour guide. After close to three hours, the tour guide stopped Mr. Kleary for a second.

"Melissa, the guide coordinator, told me I should take you guys up to where we're storing the exhibit that's gonna be set up soon." The guide seemed excited. "Well, she said I could as a favour to you if your group was well behaved. It's really important that they don't touch anything up there."

"Of course. I promise you they'll be the best of any children you've ever seen." A smile grew on Mr. Kleary's face. When he called them, the kids quickly came over and stood attentively as Mr. Kleary explained where they were going. “Nothing there will be behind glass yet, so you have to be very careful not to touch it, okay?"

"What's the new exhibit about?" Jacob asked as the others nodded.

"It's about Native art and technology from before the Europeans came." The tour guide replied quietly. "You'll be the first to see it who doesn't work here." This was met with quiet excitement. The guide led them over to the back corner of the museum where there was a second, older styled elevator marked staff only. The guide put his arm out, blocking the door until everyone was in. He stepped in after them and pressed a button with no marking on it. Suddenly, something put Mr. Kleary's nerves on edge, something wasn't right. He looked to the children, they were all there. He looked back to the guide; when he wasn't looking the guide had pulled a mask of some sort over his mouth and nose. Mr. Kleary shouted for the children as he whipped around to face them, but before he could he fell to the floor and everything faded to black.

[p-artsypants]

The North Tower- New Friends

FF.net | AO3

Astrid sat up quickly, her eyes flashing from the door to Hiccup. “What was that?”

“Not the North Tower door,” he confirmed. “I’ll go check, just go back to sleep.”

She nodded once and settled back down, as he phased through the door.

Astrid waited. Swallowing her fear, and keeping her eyes trained on the door. She prepared for Hiccup to return, or for whatever monster lied in the bowels of the North Tower, to burst forth.

Neither happened. Eventually, the comfort of the bed took her over again, and soon she was asleep.

In the morning, Astrid awoke to a buzzing sound. As she regained her senses, she found it was her phone on her bedside table. She snatched it, and silenced it’s insistent vibrating.

“Hi mom,” she answered.

“Hi honey! Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

She rubbed her eyes, looking to her clock. “It’s okay, it’s 1 o’clock here, I needed to get up.” Astrid swung her legs out from under the comforter. Had last night all just been a dream? It had felt so real…Looking around her room, she saw no trace of the ghost. But all of her belongings had been put away. Her closet doors were ajar and her clothes hung in order of color inside. Even her Disney princess poster was hung on the back of the door.

“How’s the castle? Dusty?”

“Yeah, a bit.” She slipped on her house slippers and headed down to the kitchen for some breakfast.

“Well, you just worry about getting all your stuff put away. When we come on Friday, we’ll bring all our rags and clean the whole place top to bottom. Do you have a washing machine?”

Astrid walked through the lobby, noticing a definite change in the atmosphere, all of her boxes were gone and things looked immaculately clean. “Uh…yeah. I think there’s one in the West Tower.”

“Great! Then we can prep a few rooms for guests!”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Astrid took the stairs in the lobby to the dining room, and then opened the swinging door to the kitchen. She was thankful to have relatively new stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. A much bigger refrigerator and freezer sat off to the side, currently powered down, waiting for big events. “Halloween is like a month away, and that’s one of the busy seasons around here. ” She went to the normal sized, personal fridge to open the door. “It’d be great if we were ready for business by then.”

Just then, Astrid heard a sizzling sound and turned sharply to see a frying pan suspended in mid air, with an egg within it.

“Yeah, I think that’s very doable.” Said her mother in the line. “I know your cousins were very excited to hear you took over the castle. They live over in Manchester, so don’t be surprised if they pop in.”

The toaster popped, and Astrid watched as the toast floated out and on to a plate. “Uhh...yeah, sure.”

“With your Uncle’s Health in the last few years, he wasn’t taking in any guests, and no one really got to see him, except when we came at Christmas last year.”

Astrid was barely listening to her mother as a jar of blackberry jam danced out of the refrigerator in front of her eyes. “Uh huh…”

“I’ve conned your aunt Matilda from Norwich into coming, and she’s bringing her three kids. The least amount of hired hands we need, the better.”

“Yeah, great.” She watched a butter knife go into the jar and spread the jam on the toast. Meanwhile, a cabinet opened and a plate floated over to the stove, and the scrambled eggs slid onto it. She took the cartoon of milk out, only for a glass to appear beside her.

“Your father is so excited about this trip. He’s been dying to know what’s in the North Tower his entire life.”

“Oh okay, sure.” She said, taking a seat in the offered chair. “Wait wait wait, what did you just say?”  

“I said your dad wants to explore the North Tower, Uncle Finn never let him in there.”

Hiccup materialized in front of her, a smug look on his face, as he placed the eggs in front of her.

She mouthed, “Thank you,” to him. Then she responded to her mother. “No, absolutely not. No one is going in that tower, it’s way too dangerous. I went up last night, because I was curious too, and I’ll say Uncle Finn had a good reason for forbidding it.” She winked at Hiccup and turned on the speaker so he could listen too. Then she finally began to eat her eggs.

“Now Astrid, he’s your father. You can’t just boss him around.”

“I can if it’s my castle. The floor and stairs are crumbling, and the lake has flooded the tower. If the floor gives out underneath you, and you fall in, the walls are too slick to pull yourself out from. And I think there’s barracuda in the water.”

“There’s no barracuda in Wales!” Her mother shouted.

Hiccup was trying in vain to keep from laughing. Then he cleared his throat, “Yes, but there are weever fish in the water. They’re poisonous and can create paralysis. Not fun.”

Astrid stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Astrid, who’s that?”

“Uh…”

“Hello Mrs. Hofferson. My name is Hiccup, and I’m one of the ghosts that haunt the castle.” He stated, matter of factly.

There was moment of silence before her mother let out a laugh. “You are just like your Uncle! Roping in the groundskeeper into pretending to be a ghost! He would do anything to convince us that the castle was hunted. I guess that’s a good thing, since that’s what brings in the money.”

Hiccup raised his eyebrows, in an ‘knew it’ look.

“Alright, well we’ll see you on Friday. You’re probably going to have to convince your father about the tower yourself, but I’m sure he’ll bug you about it relentlessly.”

“I can handle it.” She rolled her eyes. “Talk to you later, mom.”

“Bye Honey, love you!”

“That was pretty risky. Don’t you think?” She asked, after she hung up.

“It’s really not that big of a deal if people know about me. Or the other 18 in the tower…it’s just the…you know.”

“The others?”

“Yes, precisely.”

She crossed her arms, wanting to ask about it. But she had also just moved in, and was having a hard enough time getting used to ghosts in her castle in the first place. Instead, she had another question to ask him. “Hiccup, I was wondering if—“

“OGA BOGA BOGA!” Three voices interrupted her with a scream.

“JESUS CHRIST ON A MOTORBIKE!” She screamed in response. In front of her materialized three more ghosts, two looked like twins, and the other was beefy and stout.

“Wow Hiccup,” said one of the twins, “you were right, that prank was much more satisfying.”

“This was your idea?!” She swung her arm out to hit him, but her fist just phased through him, disrupting his image.

He only shrugged, “hey, it’s better than the alternative.”

The stocky boy leaned forward on the table, a flirtatious look on his face. “Hi, name’s Snotlout. I’m the brains of this outfit.”

“No, he’s not.” Hiccup whispered.

“Shut up, Hiccup.”

The twins threw him out of the way. “Salutations, young Hofferson. I am Master Tuffnut, and this is my sister, the Lady Ruffnut.”

“Glad to make your acquaintance.” The female twin stated.

“Uh…likewise?”

“The noise you heard last night was just these guys goofing around.” Hiccup provided. “When you left the door open, they snuck out and were trashing the castle.”

Astrid turned up her nose. “What kind of benevolent ghosts are you?” Astrid questioned with a sneer.    

“The malevolent benevolent kind.” Tuffnut answered.

“But then I found them and made them clean up the house. I bribed them with being able to scare you in the morning.”

Astrid frowned. “If this is going to be a normal occurrence, I’m getting out of here immediately. I won’t even sell the house, I’ll just leave both doors open, and vacant.”

“DON’T DO THAT!” The four ghosts cried in unison.

“Oh why?” Taunted Astrid, “do I need to break a curse or something?”

That apparently was the wrong question to ask. Or right, if you’d like to think. The new, somewhat friendly ghosts disappeared in an instant, and she and Hiccup were left alone.

“What was that all about?”

He at least had the decency to excuse himself. “The door is still locked, so they couldn’t have gone far. But with what you and your mother were talking about, a lot of cleaning is to be done. I will see if I can rope them into it.”

“Would you like me to open The North Tower and see if we can get some others from the chapel to help?”

He looked away, shy. “Perhaps later.” Then, he too vanished.

Perturbed, but not dejected, Astrid quickly made her way to the library to read more about what her Uncle had uncovered in the Tower, since no ghosts would give her answers.

June 19, 1945

The North Tower was exactly as I was expecting. Crumbling, dark, and damp. Though, the statue in the middle of the staircase surprised me. There is no imagery like it in the rest of the Castle.

When I entered, I was greeted by the biggest man I’ve ever seen. He had a big red beard and wore a metal helmet, like a viking. He loomed over me, and I feared for my life. I was about to tell him he was impeding on my property, but what could I do about it? He asked me my name, and I gave it, looking him square in the eye. When I mentioned I was a Hofferson, he became much more pleasant. He provided that he was Stoick the Vast, the Chief of the Hooligan Tribe. I told him I didn’t understand. He led me to the top floor of the tower where the chapel once was. Seated at an assortment of different chairs and tables were a handful of viking warriors. They sat me down among them, between Gobber, a blacksmith, and Hiccup, the chief’s son.

According to the chief, his tribe of 103 vikings came to raid the castle that was under Celtic rule. The Celtic druids defended themselves and trapped the tribe in the North Tower, the point of invasion. Two vikings, a married couple, were spared and allowed to wander outside the castle. This was the first Hofferson in the castle, and my great ancestor, 18 generations ago. Another viking went free, but Stoick refused to talk about him. 5 more were killed, but their spirits remain in the castle. The other 95 were to remain trapped within the castle, until Axel Hofferson was able to convince the druids in the town otherwise. Many years passed, and two generations. Axel Hofferson’s children inherited the castle. The Celts either died or left, the town now Anglo-Saxon territory, and left the castle in the care of the Hofferson’s. Meanwhile, the vikings in the Tower never aged. But time passed just as slowly. It seems they don’t know how to leave either. I will do more research on these druids, and maybe I can help these vikings. For now, they have welcomed me to their ranks and have dubbed me Fearless Finn, since I was able to look Stoick in the eye. I am the youngest Hofferson to be Lord of the castle, and they have high hopes for me.

-Finn.

Astrid looked up to the portrait hanging on the wall of the chief, wishing she had met him, longing to know what could have happened to him. She turned back to the journal.

June 25, 1945

I visited the library today, and found as many books as I could on druids. The castle had more than I had expected, some from my father’s years, and many much older. It appears research on this matter has continued in my family. I will keep another journal dedicated to my research. From what I gather, the Druids were scholarly intellectuals. They were the Judges, Teachers, and Priests of their clans…but at this period in history, the Celts were pagans and practiced forms of witchcraft. I do believe that my viking friends are under a curse or enchantment. How wonderful would it be if I was the one to free them?

For now, I will continue my research in the red journal.

-Finn

Sure enough, on the shelf where this journal was found, a red one sat in the spot next to it.

Astrid decided to continue in this journal instead.

July 7, 1945

How foolish I have been. I left the door to the North Tower unlocked, and have released a great evil upon my guests. A young orphan, no more than 6 years of age, has told me that every night when she goes to bed, she sees a strange woman watching her from the corner of the room. Another young woman said she went to the library and saw Skeletons leaning against the rails in the East Tower. Rumors have begun to grow about specters in my castle and my guests are leaving. Though I received no money from them, I feel personally responsible for their misfortune. Surely living in a haunted castle would be better than out on the streets. I rectified this situation. I told Stoick the problem, and he understood, though there was a great sadness in him. He and his son swept through the castle, rounded up all the specters, and ushered them back into the North Tower.

I understand that their sadness is attributed to being locked in the tower for hundreds of years. I took it upon myself to bring them decks of cards, chess, and checkers to entertain themselves. They seemed to appreciate it, but I doubt it’s any consolation. I must do what it takes to set them free.

-Finn

Astrid wondered if letting the ghosts in the chapel out to run free in the castle was a good idea. Hiccup said there was 19, but that’s still too many heads to keep track of. Maybe when she became better acquainted with them. She went onto the next entry.

August 20, 1945

My plans to attend Cambridge University have not been deterred. Mother was quite concerned when I wrote that I was changing majors from Art to Anglo-Saxon, Norse, and Celtic History. Rightly so, I had never had any interest in it before I met Stoick and his tribe. But I truly believe getting my degree in this area will help in cracking the case of the North Tower. If for any other reason, I’d like to restore the castle to what it looked like in it’s peak. Whenever that was. I have a lot of work to do.

Thankfully, Cambridge is only four hours away by car, and I will be able to check in with the castle often. Two families that have been staying here since my father owned the house, are now paying rent because they are able to do so. With the funds of £50 a month, I have left a long time guest, Eret Eretson in charge of taking care of the castle while I am gone. Though, the key to the North Tower will remain on a chain on my neck at all times. Hiccup warned about a dragon that lies in wake of visitors to the tower that are not of Hofferson blood. I wonder is he is just jesting with me, but at times I can’t tell.

I will miss him the most while I am gone. He is a little older than I am, relatively speaking. He is much more relaxed than Stoick, and there’s something about him that’s much different than the rest of the Vikings. Restlessness, I suppose, more than any of the others. I’m surprised the tower hasn’t driven him mad yet. I have imagined, on more than one occasion, the look on his face when he is able to walk through the woods on a brisk fall day. How long has it been since he’s breathed fresh air?

Within the next five years, I surmise he’ll be able to do so once again.

-Finn

And yet, here they were. 70 years in the future, and Hiccup was still just a specter.

Astrid glanced up and saw Hiccup holding another journal from the shelf.

“When were you going to tell me about that raid that your tribe made? Or that there’s like 80 more ghosts in the castle?”

Hiccup wordlessly closed the journal and then sat on the settee with her. She expected a simple answer, but Hiccup was not a simple man. “For the last 20 years, I have known you.”

Her eyes widened.

“Your uncle told me stories about you, and when you only a child, he decided he was going to leave the castle to you. He asked us not to tell you about the raid, because he didn’t want you to feel shame.”

“Shame? Oh! That must be the ‘disturbing truths’ he was talking about. That my ancestors were responsible for plundering and murdering a group of people in their own home.” She shrugged, “other’s ancestors have done worse.”

“We didn’t murder anyone.” He corrected. “We were told, by a man from another tribe, that this castle was abandoned and only thieves and murders lived here with their plunder. We had no idea what was really going on. This man’s tribe had convinced several other tribes the same thing, and we all left our families and homes to seek our fortune.”

He turned away from her, guilt still heavily laden on his mind. “We scared the Celts out of their home, and set to take control of the castle…only then was it made known that these were innocent people, just living their lives. Only three of us were spared. The rest of us have been paying for the last thousand years.”

“How do I break the curse? How do I set you all free?”

“I truly do not know. I surmise that your Uncle’s journals will hold some ideas.”

She nodded. “Because of my Uncle, I was inspired to get my degree in Ancient History. I know between you, me, and the journals, we can figure this out together.”

He smiled widely and earnestly. “Thank you.” Then he considered a moment, “if we want to have the time to do this, maybe we should get some help from my friends to clean the castle, and prepare for your family in a few days.”

She groaned, “I don’t actually want them all to come.”

“Why not?”

“I’m worried about someone trying to snoop in the North Tower. My cousins are actually really big trouble makers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew how to lock pick and get in the tower.”

He thought for a moment, “are they Hofferson’s?”

“Their mom is.”

“But their last name isn’t?”

“No, it’s Davies.”

He shrugged, “Then there shouldn’t be any reason to worry. Do you have the keys on you?”

“Uh, yeah? I never go anywhere without them.”

He beckoned her to follow him and together they went to the North Tower hallway. “This hall is protected, and if anyone not of direct Hofferson descent tries to enter, the Night Fury will scare them away.”

“Night Fury?”

As if summoned, a black shadow moved passed the window. As Astrid leaned out to get a better look, she heard a gruff snort behind her.

Turning around, she came face to face with an ebony stony creature with emerald eyes. It only stared, and looked pleasant. Though, its size and nature still made her nervous.

“This thing isn’t going to scare them,” she said honestly. “He looks too friendly.”

The statue bared it’s teeth and growled.

Astrid flinched away. “Yep that’ll work.”  

“This is Toothless,” Hiccup provided, scratching the creature’s side. “He was once my dragon. We flew from island to island discovering what we could. When we came here to raid, my father had him head the ship to frighten sea-serpents. When we were cursed, Toothless was turned into a gargoyle, frozen in stone. But then, about 200 years later, the town came under attack of the Normans, and Toothless woke up and fought them off. Then went back to sleep when peace came. It was about 100 years after that he woke up again, when their was a burglar in the castle. Then he would sleep from anywhere to a few days to a few years. But now, he’s pretty much always awake.”

“You don’t think it has to do with Non-Hofferson’s always being in castle, do you? Like my Uncle’s guests and the groundskeeper?”

“I think that is exactly what’s happening. Which I am grateful for.”

Astrid held her hand out, and the stone dragon rubbed his nose against her. She smiled, “I like him. But I don’t know if I want this to be plan A. It’s rumored the castle as ghosts, not a dragon.”  

“Easy, we get Ruffnut and Tuffnut to stand guard in the East Tower. They love scaring people, and will do whatever it takes to get a scream out of someone.”  

“OGA BOGA BOGA!” The twins screamed, leaning in from the broken windows.

“SWEET MOTHER MARY!” Astrid shouted in response. She took a shuttering breath, “Okay, I’m easy to startle. But you’ll have to do more than jump scares to actually scare these kids.”

“Like what?”

Astrid went and unlocked the tower door. “We’ll do some research together. We’ll watch some scary movies, as long as you promise not to use them on me.”

“Deal,” the two confirmed.

After the group came back inside the tower, Astrid locked the door behind her and they ascended into the Chapel.

The group seemed smaller. Gobber looked up when they entered, “there you are, Lad.”

“Sorry, we got locked out. How are things?”

“Three left last night.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? The twins and Snotlout were with me outside if you were counting them.”

“No kiddo, Mulch, Spitelout, and Gustof all left to go to their rooms. They never came back.”

“No…” Hiccup looked around to the three more empty chairs added to the pile. “But we’ve never had more than one leave in the span of 10 years…and now four over two days? Why now? Is it me? Is it because my dad…?”

“No,” Gobber provided, standing. “It’s her.”

“Me?” Astrid pointed at herself. “What did I do?”

“Nothing that you could help,” Gobber provided. “It’s just…a Hofferson has to…do certain things. And if you get married and have children, those children will have their father’s name, and won’t be Hoffersons. If you then pass the castle onto them, then the castle falls.”

“Oh.”

“It seems they lost hope. And more will follow suit if you don’t figure something out soon.” Gobber spoke to Hiccup.

“Astrid already knows about the curse, and she is willing to do whatever it takes to break it. But we need your help prepping the castle for her family so we can work.”

Gobber grinned. “You mean she’s going to let us out?”

“Well, to some extent.” Astrid warned. “Please don’t trash the place.”

“No promises, lass.”

[hysterialevi]

In the Smoke pt. 4 (Cobblebats)

From Thomas’ POV

Exiting my office, both Hamilton and Carmine hastily made their way out of the manor while I stayed behind, contemplating everything they just told me. No one was 100 percent certain yet, but if the rumors circling around were true, then this “Penguin” figure that Hill encountered was actually Oswald Cobblepot in a mask. 

I dragged a hand through my hair, gazing out a nearby window in thought. I had to admit, I was more than a bit surprised when I heard the whispers. Oswald had always been known as a trouble maker anyways, but I never expected his “trouble-making” to reach this level. Illegal boxing, arms dealing, murder, drug abuse--to be honest, I didn’t even think that the boy was still alive. 

After his parents had been dealt with, and he was forced out of the country, I expected the same thing as anyone else. Without the support of his parents, it only seemed logical that Oswald would eventually die off somewhere, unable to sustain and raise himself at such a young age. What else would a child like him be able to do? Well, whatever he went through, he was obviously stronger than I anticipated. 

Moving away from the office, I began aimlessly pacing around the manor, and eventually found myself staring at the door to Bruce’s room with regret. The last thing I wanted to do was keep secrets from my own son, and I wished that we could have a normal relationship, but after what happened with Martha, I could never be too careful. 

For the past twenty years, I had already been strangled with the constant worry about Bruce’s mental health after witnessing a murder--of his own mother, no less--and now, I was concerned for his safety in general. I didn’t care what Hamilton or Carmine thought about my decisions. Bruce was my number one priority, and I would do whatever I could to keep him alive.

Walking up to Bruce’s room, I stopped in front of the closed door and paused for a moment, my hand hovering above its surface as I debated whether or not to talk to him. I sighed to myself. I was a horrible father, wasn’t I? Any normal parent wouldn’t have hesitated speaking to their own child, and yet, here I was, thinking about turning back.

Before I could make any sort of choice though, the door swung open by itself, revealing Bruce in the entryway. He jumped slightly at my sudden appearance.

“Oh!” He blurted out in surprise, “--um, hi. Dad.”

“Heh, sorry,” I replied. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no, it’s...it’s fine.”

We both stood there awkwardly, surrounded by uncomfortable silence as Bruce tried to avoid eye contact with me, practically squirming in place while he waited for me to say something.

“Um...” I tried initiating any sort of conversation, “I...just wanted to check up on you. You...doing all right?”

Judging by his fidgety temperament, I could easily tell there was something on Bruce’s mind, though he said otherwise.

"...yeah, I’m good,” he answered. “Just a little...nervous, I guess, about the debate coming up.”

He clearly wasn’t, but I went along with it.

“Hill’s been the mayor of this city for quite a while, Bruce. He’s always had Gotham at his back. I’m confident he’ll win again.”

Bruce was quiet in response, but the look on his face said, “I hope he doesn’t.” Not that it was unexpected. He never told me flat out, but I knew he truly wanted to support Dent in the election. He had expressed his dislike for Hill more than a few times in the past, and on top of that, he and Dent were good friends. Bruce had no reason to support Hill. 

Well, except for the fact that, if he wanted to, Hill could’ve killed all of us with a snap of his fingers--but that was just another secret Bruce didn’t know.

Bringing my eyes downward, I noticed that Bruce was holding something in his hand. I gestured to it.

“What’s that?” The question was meant to be casual, but it seemed to trigger a defensive mode in him, and his grip on the mystery item only tightened.

“Nothing,” he quickly said. Maybe a little too quickly.

Before I could even open my mouth to ask anything else however, the sound of someone calling my name averted my attention.

“Master Thomas,” Alfred announced, humbly standing off to the side, “Mrs. Zellerbach is here to see you. She says it’s a rather urgent matter, and she wishes to discuss it with you immediately.”

“Ah, thank you, Alfred. I’ll be right down.” Bruce and I exchanged looks. “Well, I suppose I should head down and see what Regina wants. We can talk some other time.”

He was a lot less wound up now, probably due to relief, and smiled. “Sure. I’ll see you later, Dad.”

Heading downstairs and away from my son, Alfred followed me from behind as I went to greet my guest, promptly keeping up with my pace and diverting his direction once we passed the kitchen. I decided to throw a glance back at where I had been talking with Bruce, only to find that he had already disappeared from sight. Well, he was certainly in a hurry for something. I only wondered what.

From Bruce’s POV

7:02 - COBBLEPOT PARK

Cautiously stepping into the ruined park, I checked the time Oz had written on the card and then looked at my watch, thoroughly searching around for him. The park was completely empty, just like it had been for the past two decades, save for a homeless man sleeping on the pavement, and there wasn’t any clear sign that Oz had been here. 

I let out a breath of disappointment. I was hoping that he would wait for me, despite being seriously late, or even leave another note, but maybe the invitation wasn’t even real to begin with. Maybe it was just a prank like I suspected, and Oz never contacted me in the first place. 

I headed deeper into the park, examining different areas. There was graffiti staining the walls, dead leaves littered the cracked ground, and the rusted gate creaked weakly in the wind. If I didn’t know what this place was, I would’ve never been able to guess it was Cobblepot Park--a location that was once considered to be one of the most beautiful tourist attractions in Gotham. 

After a few more minutes of pointlessly poking around and hoping for Oz to step out, I decided to abandon this wild goose chase and turned around to leave, only to find a man creeping directly behind me. He glared at me aggressively, switchblade in hand. Shit.

“Watch, wallet, cash,” he ordered, raising the knife, “or this...goes through you.”

I put an arm up in defense, steadily backing away. “You’re making a mistake.”

He ignored the warning and only continued to prowl towards me, cornering me against a bust of Oswald’s father, his eyes never leaving mine. He didn’t look too hard to fight, but I was still careful. After all, regardless of how weak this mugger was, I wasn’t the best when it came to violence either.

Suddenly though, out of nowhere, a smile grew on his face, and that smile eventually grew into hysterical laughter, echoing throughout the empty park. I didn’t know how to react.

“Woo!” The man exclaimed in amusement, bending over and resting his hands on his knees. “The look on your face...!” He wiped a fake tear from his cheek. “Man, I wish I coulda caught that on camera.”

I was dumbfounded. “S-sorry--what?” I stuttered. “Do I know you?” The man frowned in a saddened manner, offended.

“You...you don’t recognize me, do you?” He crossed his arms. “Well, I guess that only makes sense. It has been twenty years.”

What?

My jaw fell open and I took a closer look at the man, my eyes popping open once I realized exactly who he was.

“...Oz? Is that...is that you!?”

He grinned with that famously mischievous expression of his, putting the knife away. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Without saying anything, I ecstatically threw my arms around Oz and pulled him into a tight bear hug, the two of us laughing out of happiness as he patted my back. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I honestly couldn’t believe it. The letter was real all along. Oz really did send it, and now he was actually here. Right now. With me. Alive.

We separated after what felt like an eternity, still unable to contain our excitement as we continued to giggle at each other, just like when we were kids.

“It’s so good to see you again, Oz,” I said. “Truth be told, I thought the whole thing was a prank. I’m glad it wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m glad you actually showed up. For a while there, I wasn’t sure you would.”

I scratched the back of my head. “Yeah, sorry about that. I got your letter kind of late.”

“No worries.” He sighed. “God, it’s been what--two decades?”

I playfully glared at him, crossing my arms. “And you know what? I haven’t been mugged once that entire time.”

He chuckled. “Oh, that wasn’t why I brought you here, mate. I actually got somethin’ else in mind--somethin’ you might be interested in.”

“Oh?” I quirked a brow in curiosity. 

“Yeah. I wish I could say I came back to Gotham for the sake of visiting, but...” Oz examined the bust of his father, “I’m on a job here, you see. A rather dangerous one. And I’d really appreciate it if you joined me. I’d hate to see you caught on the wrong side.”

I grew slightly suspicious at the abrupt change in tone. “And the job is...?”

Oz scoffed. “Look at this city, Bruce. Look at who’s at the top. Hamilton fucking Hill.” He nearly growled his name. “Wish I could punch that posh grin into the back of his throat for what he did to my family--and to yours.”

I felt my smile disappear. “You...you know what happened to my mom?”

“‘Course I do. It was a part of his big plan all along. He had to get rid of the snitch first, and then come after my parents later.”

I shook my head in confusion. “Wait, what do you mean ‘snitch?’ What was my mom doing?”

He paused. “You don’t know?”

“No. No one’s ever told me anything, and I haven’t been able to find any sort of evidence. I mean, I always  suspected Hill had something to do with my mom’s murder anyway, but I never learned how.”

“Shit. Well...this may be hard for you to hear.”

I looked Oz directly in the eye. “If you know what happened, please tell me, Oz. I need to know.”

He thought for a good moment, trying to think of the easiest way to deliver the dreadful news. Oz exhaled.

“...Bruce...Jesus, how do I say this--listen, your dad...he’s not who you think he is. Neither is Hill, or Falcone. They’re all criminals--gangsters--and they all control Gotham. Hill is the brain, Falcone the muscle, and your father legitimizes the whole thing with his name. It’s why they’ve always stuck together. How else do you think they stole my family’s land?” 

Oz sat down on a bench, taking a flask out of his coat. “Back when your mum was still alive, she really didn’t like what they were doing, and she planned to turn ‘em in to the police. Well, before she could...Hill found out. That’s why he had her assassinated.”

I nearly fainted on the spot, just trying to take all of this in. As much as I trusted Oz, everything he was telling me was literally unbelievable, and I didn’t want to believe it. My father? A criminal? And he had been defending Hill this whole time--the man who murdered my mother and his own goddamn wife, for chrissakes. What the...what the hell was Dad thinking? Had he lost his mind?

I looked away from Oz, unable to comprehend what I was hearing. He had to be making this up. This had to be another one of his jokes. He was just messing with me again...right?

“Bruce?”

I broke away from my thoughts. Oz was staring at me.

“You all right?” He checked.

I brought a hand up to my head. “It’s...it’s just...a lot to process. But I’m glad you told me. I needed to know the truth.”

Oz nodded in approval. “And that right there, mate, is exactly what I’m here for. To expose the truth.” He walked up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Your father ain’t the only one of his type, Bruce. Gotham is filled to the brim with liars, murderers, and hypocrites--and they’re the ones running this city. If you have any decency left in you, you’ll know why it has to stop.”

His grip tensed up. “You and I were like family once, Bruce. It was us against the entire world...I miss that. And I want that again. I want my friend to be there when I fight against Gotham’s corruption. That’s actually why I asked you to meet me today.”

Oz held a hand out. “Now that you know the truth, will you join me?”

Glancing at Wayne Tower, which stood proudly in the distance, I felt a new type of anger growing inside me the longer I stared at it, and it made me hate my father. He had lied to me all these years about my own mother’s death, just to protect the very man responsible for causing it. And for what? Money? Power? Well, whatever his reasons were, my father--and all men like him--were going to pay for what they had done. 

Taking a leap of faith, I turned to Oz and shook his hand firmly. 

“I will.”

He smirked, a twinkle flashing in his eyes. “...I knew you’d see reason. Welcome to the Children of Arkham.”

[darlingpetao3]

For Asgard (Chapter 3/?)

“Two coffees, please.”

You order for both you and Loki at your favorite café before work, figuring you could get any kind of information out of him over a good brew. However, no matter how hard you try, Loki demonstrates he is the master of deflection and subject changing. You down the last swig of coffee. It's honestly the best in town. Loki takes his last drink with gusto.

“That was delicious. I would love another.”

“Coming right up.”

Taking the refilled drink and your new stranger-friend to go, you make your way to the library. On time today, thank goodness. You tell Loki to feel free to have a look around and explore and that you'll be around if he needs any help or has questions.

It's a bit quieter at work than usual, which gives you a decent amount of time to admire Loki in his element. And work a little too, obviously.

But you watch him in the little nook by the window, captured by the tales that seem so alien to him. You might even say you're as enthralled in watching him as he is in his readings. At one point he looks up and catches your daydreaming gaze, to which your cheeks flush and you pretend you weren't totally staring at him and try to look busy. Now moving on to the task of re-shelving, you come across a book belonging to a shelf a bit too far beyond your reach. Normally the library has stepping stools placed around the stacks, but they have seemingly all disappeared.

That's odd, you think. You stretch with all your might trying to reach the top shelf as if you were Mr. Fantastic himself. Then you try, much to your embarrassment, jumping. A hushed, smooth voice suddenly speaks close from behind you.

“Allow me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Loki slowly takes the book from your hand and effortlessly places it in its respective spot thanks to his blessed height.

“Thank you,” you say smiling shyly.

“My pleasure.”

After your successful day at work and eating glorious leftovers, the pair of you relax in your living area with books. Naturally, of course.

Your book of choice is the one you checked out yesterday on Norse Mythology. You manage to make it through the short descriptions of the gods Odin, Frigga, and Thor. But it's the fourth bio that makes you hold your breath.

Loki.

If he's considered a myth, how is he here in your home? It's just not possible. You continue to read:

Loki was a shape shifter and could fabricate illusions of whatever he wished. He was far more spiteful, cunning, and deceitful than the other Gods of Asgard, which would lead him to trouble. This trouble would be created by playing devious jokes on the others. Being the Father of Lies, his quick wit and silver tongue-

“That is very fascinating material you have there, my dear.”

Loki's voice startles you. How is he able to sneak up on you without you noticing? He has a very curious look in his eye matched with an amused smirk.

“You look like you have something to say,” you pry cautiously.

“They are not merely myths, you know.”

“Oh really? So you're saying you are in fact the Loki from this book?” you laugh. “Go on, then. Shapeshift or do some magic! Prove it.”

Doubt floods your mind despite the need you have of wanting this to be true. You wait for him to do something, anything at all. But he just stands there in front of you with the same smirk on his face. Nothing happens, much to your disappointment. A part of you truly wished something amazing and unexplainable like a... a super hot, magic wielding Norse God would come into your life.

“Well, I guess this myth just got busted,” you say trying not to sound as disappointed as you feel. You feel a tap on your shoulder. But Loki is still standing in front of you...

Turning around slowly, your mouth drops in surprise.

Another Loki looks down at you revelling in your shock. You spin back to the other him, who seems pleased with himself as well.

“Oh my god. You really..? It-it's true then? All of it?”

“Yes, it's true,” he says, while the Loki closest to you fades away.

“This is fantastic. Amazing. Incredible!”

Loki grins from ear to ear and appears like he is thinking those same things about you. Like you're the otherworldly being.

“I am very glad you think so, darling. I must admit, I have never received such a response towards my abilities.”

A question comes to mind about something you had read in the passage. “Here's a question. When I read that you played jokes on the other Gods, have you actually done that?”

“Yes, I have,” he replies absentmindedly. What is going on in that head of his? You can't help yourself from asking.

“Have you done so recently?” Loki's eyes snap to meet yours. Like he's been caught. Slowly you've been trying to piece together an extremely complicated puzzle. You're just missing a few pieces...

“Loki I'm going to ask you another question, but please don't get mad at me.” He says nothing and waits for your question to hit.

“Does this recent prank have anything to do with how I found you the other night?”

“You are an astonishingly sharp young woman,” he muses. “Yes I admit, my 'prank' is how I came to be in your realm.” It's funny. He doesn't seem particularly guilty about the prank itself. But there's something else there. You feel the need to uncover it.

“Will you tell me how it happened? How you came to be here? You can trust me, I promise.”

Loki ponders for a good while, but eventually, he concedes in agreeing to recount how he came to be on Earth.

“How will I know you won't lie to me? After all, the book called you the 'Father of Lies'?” you ask him.

“First of all, you would never know, my dear. That is why they call me the 'Father of Lies'.” You give him a playful nudge. “And second of all, what most people do not know, is that I do not lie to those who enchant me.”

He means you! You enchant him? You can't believe The God of Mischief finds you enchanting. Well, the feeling is most certainly mutual. Unable to find the words to respond, Loki saves you from the silence this time.

“Let me start from the beginning.”

Part 4

[writtenbymonarch]

Preferred Aphasia

Reader x Sirius

Imagine: A quiet girl, who has mastered nonverbal spells has a crush on Sirius, although others believe that she likes Remus. Teachers don't like her but someone else does.

Words: 1,400

Warning: There will be an unconnected part 2.

__________

Everyone thinks she has a crush on Remus, she just goes with it, as long as they don’t know that it’s actually Sirius that she likes. She doesn’t talk much, although it is because their is a constant flow of thoughts she can’t get through. Secretly kinky? Master at nonverbal spells. Teachers don’t like her. Is secretly a slithering but everyone forgot. After being with Sirius she finds her voice.

Y/N has been friends with the Marauders since first year, somehow their relationship had just clicked. Any outsider would have thought that she was in it because of some forced parental unofficial contract, because she was quiet, and who would want to be friends with the quiet girl? Although, this is not the case, they are friends purely because they happen to fit together like a puzzle. The image of the puzzle, if literally speaking, would form a piece of abstract art. It’s all up to the eyes of the beholder.

Currently, Y/N and Rems were walking into their last period for the week, Transfiguration. Remus was insanely interested in the subject they had just come from, Defense against the dark arts, so he was a bit riled up. The only thing Y/N wasn’t looking forward to in this class was the teacher, McGonagall. (I know the eras are messed up, deal) She always had asked Y/N to the front of the class to speak, so she retaliated in any way she could come up with in order to keep her silence, which showed up in her grades being drastically low,  contradicting her outstanding content. She would perform everything perfectly, except without saying the incantation. From a young age she had mastered non-verbal spells, which was a difficult task for a grown wizard, let alone a first year.

The mutual hatred of student and teacher could have also been from the fact that Y/N had originally been sorted into Slytherin, but lives the life of a Gryffindor, dorm room and everything. No one was sure if this was allowed or not, this being a first time occurrence. It was as if no one cared enough that she went along with the Gryffindors after a week of getting bored in the Slytherin house, and she was just welcomed, not many questions asked. Now, everyone forgets that she was ever sorted in a different house and doesn't outcast her for that reason. Her silence was the reason for the usual avoidance. With the lack of verbal interactions, she surpassed the regulations. Meaning, the rules didn’t apply to her and McGonagall wasn’t going to take part in that.

As a result of her ‘impairment’, fellow students stood up for her when McGonagall crossed any lines, especially Remus. Y/N was told rumors that the professor only acted this was towards her. The rumors had substantial evidence of being true.

After walking across campus, the pair had finally made it to Transfiguration, small talk, coming from Remus, throughout the walk, Y/N replying with less than 20 words in the whole conversation. It wasn’t awkward, this was just how it worked and it was fine that way. They sat down in their usual seats, attempting to bypass any judgement, aimed their way.

“Wipe that grin off your face.” Professor said out of nowhere, directed towards Y/N.

“It’s automatic in your presence.”

“That’s backtalk. Move to the front. 5 points from Gryffindor.” She took away points from the house that Y/N cared about the most.

“She wasn’t even grinning until you mentioned something. Back off.” Argued Remus.

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do. Move to the back of the room. I want to see no conversation between the two of you.”

“You do know who you’re talking to right?” Remus questioned about the comment, trying to humiliate McGonagall in any way possible. She did not reply, there was no witty comeback that she could have thought of.

‘Thank you.’ Y/N mouthed. Remus sufficed for a nod of his head toward Y/N, getting the memo through. They got through the class with minimal hustle afterwards.

Right when they stepped out of the class, Sirius and James were waiting outside of the entrance. Sirius draped his arm around Y/N shoulders, making her blush. Fortunately, no one saw this. She tried to keep her crush on him on the down low. If her setup continues, they could act the way a couple was without the awkwardness of a taboo, unshared infatuation that Y/N had on him.  

“How’d you get here so fast?” Remus spoke up.

“We skipped the end of herbology,” James went in front of the group to reenact a scene. “’Yo, Mr.! We gotta go grab something from the back.’ And we were never to be seen again.” He shook his head and started walking forward once again. Y/N was not surprised, knowing that without their shenanigans, they’d be really good students with their intellectual potential.

“Guess what time it is?” Sirius whispered in her ear. She shrugged. “Party time! We already have some stuff set up at the lake. James invited Lily, but you know how he is. Plus, more people, more fun. Party logic,” He pointed towards his temple. Y/N was just glad that this was going to stay between her close friend group.  

“Did you know about this?” Remus staggered his hand, in a ‘kinda’ motion.

At the halfway mark on the walk to the destination, Sirius’ arm had gotten substantially heavier, so she decided to do something playful, obtaining some sort of possible chance that could get her somewhere in his books. She removed his arm, stroked his chin like a grandma who hadn’t seen their grandchild for a while, and moved his hand down to hers, entwining their fingers.  

“Ohhh, it’s getting spicy up in here.” He joked. In a short while they had made it to their goal; the lake. It was a sweet setup. Charmed floating fairy lights, 3 big blankets, a picnic basket, and a muggle radio, playing a song from the current top 10 at a low volume.  

Everyone sat down, making themselves feel comfortable in the secluded area, blocked off be trees, so it wasn’t obvious that they were there at all.  

“Rad.” Was the only word that Y/N said, when Sirius asked them how she liked it, after admitting that he had the idea. Soon, Lily had shown up and they had begun drinking.  

“Ya’ll gonna have some?” James asked Sirius and Y/N, the only ones not drinking.

“Remember?” Was Sirius’ response, while Y/N shook her head, not being much of a drinker. It took a second for their responses to get through to James’ head, but when they did, there was a haunted look of realization on his face.  

“Remedy.” He said, totally out of context, a dazed look on his face. Some ones hands had flung across Y/N’s eyes, obstructing her vision. All she could hear was a rumble of footsteps.

When the hands were removed, she was met with a cleaned picnic area, and only Sirius. “Imbeciles.” He laughed.

“What’s this about?” Y/N said, in a whisper, a content grin on her face, paired with flushed cheeks.  

“Well, although, it’s quite obvious that you like Remus,” Y/N shook her head slightly at his words. “I have liked you for quite some time. I wanted to use this excuse of a hang out to at least tell you about it, because it’s been a secret for long enough. I would like this to go somewhere, but only if you like me back, no pity dating,” He had seen how it was one of Y/N’s pass weaknesses, only dating people out of pity, not because she actually liked them. “So, Y/N would you do me the pleasure of being my girlfriend?” Never, had she thought about being anywhere close to his league, but it couldn’t be a prank, he wouldn’t do that.

“If you’re sure...” She hesitated.

“Positive,” He scurried closer. “I know I just asked one big question, girlfriend of mine, but, can I kiss you.”

“I’ve been waiting.”  She smirked.

“So, I’ll take that as a yes.”

-A/N

I’ve been wanting to write something like this. Part 2 coming soon, already being half written. Send in some requests.

~Monarch

[torentialtribute]

Manchester United’s stars are great… at hiding behind their social media 

A shambling, insincere, lap of appreciation completed, the Manchester United players opened negotiations.

Paul Pogba took the direct approach, speaking to fans as he left the field. That didn't end well.

Alexis Sanchez meanwhile, went straight to the modern footballer's place of refuge in times of crisis. He posted on Instagram.

After Manchester United lost to relegated Cardiff, Alexis Sanchez apologized on Instagram

"The fans are the ones who deserve an apology as they always support you no matter what happens," Sanchez wrote.

"Personally, I didn't perform as much as I was expecting because of unpredictable injuries. Press and people were speculating about things that were not equally true. I was always a professional in all aspects. I apologize to the fans for not being able to achieve our goals. Nevertheless, we are Manchester United! "

On it went, about the club returning to the glory days, about the tough season just passed.

" Players and staff are questioning if we were doing the right thing and if we were giving our best for this football shirt, 'Sanchez added, as if commenting remotely, as if the desire of a player to try his hardest is not totally within the control of that individual.

It's all too easy now. It is all too pat. The apologies are in before the last man is out of the shower. Players like social media, they say, because it gives them the chance to talk to the fans directly, without the media and its agenda getting in the way – but players have an agenda, too.

Paul Pogba is a master on social media and is a frequent poster before and after matches

What is more apparent than ever is that some dressing rooms contain spin doctors who would not be out of place in Westminster. What follows the match is the seizing of the narrative. Get the apology in before the reviews are out. Get the crowd on your side.

Sanchez couldn't just make a United team that lost 2-0 at home to relegated Cardiff. If reports are correct, his club are ready to subsidize £ 12million or his wages just to be rid of him. Yet here he is, managing news in a way he could not manage matches.

Pogba is a smart operator, too. Manchester United talk about their players in terms of social media followings and hits, so it's no wonder they exploit the medium.

Performances reduce in importance. It's no longer how you play, but how you sell it in the aftermath.

Time was, there was only one way to avenge a lousy result, or a sub-standard individual showing. Do better next match. Play poorly on Saturday and there could be a week to stew and work on improvement.

In that period, there was no way of influencing your standing. A player had to go out and show them; prove himself again. What took place on the field was truly all that mattered.

Jose Mourinho is right to say United's problems are far greater than just the influence of Pogba

Not so now. First, there is the post-match apology. The one that claims to take responsibility, but doesn't really, because it talks about events as if they were observed, third-person.

Then, a few days later, there might be the narrative-changing image builder. An amusing clip from the dressing room, a fitness regime revealed, a trick with the ball, a prank on a team mate. The memory of that last match is cleverly erased.

Instead we are invited to think how hard an individual is working, how skilful he could be – if only the manager let him off the leash – or what a fun guy he is. Down to earth, likes a laugh – just like us, really. He's not a bad lad after all.

Suddenly, it's no longer about the next 90 minutes, it's 30 seconds on video, 140 characters, a picture caption. Posting it is so much less exhausting and waiting for the next game and putting on a show.

Jose Mourinho is right when he says Manchester United's shortcomings are not just about Pogba – but the modern social media star has helped create a culture that affords a free pass in exchange for a few glib sentences.

'I'm certain that United will return to the club, as it was in the old days with Mr Alex Ferguson , "Sanchez wrote.

It won't, though. United might be successful again, but it will be on different terms. The days of no apologies? Gone. Game management is now what happens after the final whistle.

Tottenham's title push just doesn't add up

Those who hope Tottenham can be turned into title contenders next season will be encouraged, no doubt, by the ground made up by Liverpool across one summer.

Liverpool finished 25 points shy of Manchester City in 2017-18, and one point short a year later. So it still wasn't enough – but it shows what can be done.

Liverpool, however, had a clearly mapped path. Just by turning draws with West Brom – home and away – Burnley, Everton, Stoke, Watford and Newcastle (or their promoted equivalents) into wins, they could claw back 14 points. They also had lost at relegated Swansea. So 17 points were available from matches with the lower lights.

Tottenham need one of the greatest improvements in the history of football to go for the title

Tottenham's upgrade is rather different. They need to make up 28 points to overtake Manchester City and need to convert losses, not draws, to wins. Not against the mugs, either.

Spurs lost to every team in the top seven and all bar two – Everton and Leicester – in the top 11. Upgrade the final-day draw with Everton to a home win and Tottenham still need 26 points. Meaning they must convert nine defeats into wins.

Even if we have presume victory over Watford, Wolves, Burnley, West Ham and Bournemouth, that still leaves Tottenham needing to win against four or five elite clubs. Their mission is far greater than Liverpool's.

It would need one of the greatest improvements in the history of football and no doubt, as incredible as their Champions League run has been, Mauricio Pochettino knows that, too.

Black managers can be fired too

The dismissals of Chris Hughton and Darren Moore were two of the resin hest of the season. Neither were sacked, however, for being black.

Indeed Moore's club, West Brom, are still in the market for a manager and one of the names at the top of their list is Hughton.

So, while Troy Townsend, head of development at Kick It Out, was understandably concerned at two high-profile black, Asian and minority ethnic (BAME) managers losing their jobs, his reaction to Hughton's sacking – that the situation was 'worse than square one' – was unhelpful.

Darren Moore was harshly sacked by promotion-chasing West Brom earlier this season "class =" blkBorder img-share "/>

Darren Moore or Chris Hughton's sackings were motivated by their race

If club owners fear there will be no pressure to retain a BAME manager once appointed, a door that is still more ajar than open will very quickly be shut.

No wonder Kick It Out swiftly apologized to Brighton for any insinuation that their judgment was racially motivated. Brighton are one of the most progressive clubs in the country and this decision, right or wrong, was solely about football.

If anything, West Brom replacing Moore was more controversial – and harder to justify, given their failure to win promotion through the playoffs.

We'll never know if sticking with Moore would have got West Brom up, but that call wasn't about race, either.

BAME managers will stop being anomalies in our game the day they can be hired and fired as irrationally as white men. The way to return to square one is to insist on making them special cases.

How can Italy call racism irrelevant?

Or 'objectively limited relevance'. This was the official Series A take on the monkey chants aimed at Moise Kean, and other black Juventus players, during their match at Cagliari on April 2. It means the club will receive no sanction.

Maybe something has been lost in translation because, if not, the implication is staggering. Are the league seriously saying that the chants, if viewed objectively, are irrelevant? This would then be imply that the same is true or most racist incidents.

They are invariably the work of a minority, and clubs are always quick to distance themselves from responsibility.

Lazio, where dubious ultra culture has been indulged for decades, spoke of 'the values ​​of sport that this club promoted and supported for 119 years' when fans unfurled a banner honoring Mussolini and chanted about bringing' a banana for Bakayoko 'during a match with AC Milan.

Yet other recent messages at Lazio matches have included' black team, Jewish supporters '- aimed at Roma – and' Auschwitz is your homeland; the ovens are your homes.

Maybe these banners were of objectively limited relevance, too – certainly to a league that has long been defaulted on any serious commitment to tackling racism.

Cagliari will face no punishment from Series A after their fans racially abused Moise Kean

There is considerable consternation about a song sung by Aston Villa fans in tribute to Tammy Abraham.

It is to the tune of Black Betty, an American folk song, popularized by Leadbelly and Ram Jam, among others. It starts: "Oh, black Tammy Abraham …"

Understandably, a load of white guys singing about "black Tammy" – briefly in acknowledgment of his excellence – is suspect.

Yet when gentiles at Tottenham shout about belonging to a Yid army, or just shout the word 'Yids' at the top of their voices, those who object are apparently missing some deep cultural affiliation.

Drug problem will haunt boxing

Well, that didn't last long. The world of boxing was outraged when Jarrell Miller tested positive for three performance-enhancing drugs ahead or his fight with Anthony Joshua.

His six-month spell was branded laughable, there was talk of death in the ring, the potential danger of fighting an artificially boosted opponent.

Then, this week, the same sport lapped up the latest knockout bolt, headline grabbing pronouncements or Tyson Fury, whose absence from boxing prior to his return against Deontay Wilder was no less suspicious.

Boxing pays lip service to the issue of performance enhancement and will one day reap the whirlwind. Our thoughts and prayers will be with the victim and his family in that sad time, as always.

Boxing's love of Tyson Fury shows the sport pays lip service to performance enhancement

Rory isn't wrapping himself in Irish flag

Within minutes of winning the 2011 US Open, a fan on and draped a flag around Rory McIlroy's shoulders.

McIlroy had duties a stride before looking down and seeing it was the Irish tricolor. One stride more and the flag was lying on the Congressional Country Club grounds. McIlroy marched on without turning back. His relationship with Ireland has always been complex.

So he should not be judged too harshly for the many twists and turns of his international career. The Irish Golf Association embraces north and south, but that is not necessarily true of McIlroy's fellow Ulstermen. The all-meant return to the Olympics was stress.

If McIlroy declared for Great Britain, he alienated Ireland. If he declared for Ireland, parts of his homeland would feel equally rejected. McIlroy said he felt British, then Irish, then decided to hell with it, made a bad excuse and didn't participate at all.

So, yes, it was something of a U-turn that he came out so strongly for Ireland this week, and spoke positively about representing them in 2020. Yet it is the logical choice.

In golfing terms, Great Britain ends at the sea, as it does with rugby. McIlroy isn't wrapping himself in a tricolor by playing for Ireland. He's just being true to the golfing culture that nurtured him.

Why Bassini cost Bolton 12 points

What a rotten disservice Laurence Bassini did Bolton. It was mid-April when the sale of the club to the former Watford owner was first agreed, so one presume his interest was known long before that.

At the time, the club had entered administration, the 12- point deduction with the Football League would have come into the Championship. Bolton would have been relegated, but were going down anyway.

With the sale dragging on, however, Bolton entered administration after the season ended – meaning they start with minus 12 in League One. Bassini still claims he is interested but if he couldn't get the deal done a month ago, what has changed?

Since then, Bolton's financial crisis has been worsened – a food bank has been set up to help impoverished staff – and the Football League punishment makes them considerably less attractive to potential buyers. Bassini left them incalculably worse off, and didn't even set foot in the place.

Laurence Bassini (center) has left Bolton worse off after they were placed into administration

Damir Skomina, or Slovenia, will be referee this year's Champions League final, assisted by his countrymen Jure Praprotnik and Robert Vukan.

Given that the average gate of Slovenian league matches this season is 1,468 and there are some clubs in the top division that attract fewer than 400, one can only marvel at the ability of Skomina and his assistants to perform unruffled in front of vociferous crowds or tens of thousands.

The Slovenian-born president of UEFA, Aleksander Ceferin must be equally proud, too. What a happy quirk or fate that Skomina's rise to the very top of his professional should coincide with his own.

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