#imagine...... four giant snakes.... all staring at you as you enter the station....

[paper-fowl]

Motsi moment

AU: @tadc-harlequin-au

gotta give credit to @thescarletnargacuga too- they helped me figure out what Motsi would've been in the au

They're like this.... Giant... Snake... Monorail...

Very fun

they also make an appearance in Scarlet's The Unseen series

I can't wait for the next chapter- RAHHHH

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 2) Into the Underground

Chu Zihang makes me have a surprisedpikachu.jpg here.

ITT: The MC can have ally chats and date both genders soooo...

The elevator descended to the bottom floor. The door opened to pitch black.

Chu Zihang flicked on the flashlight. The beam of light illuminated the dusty statue of the Virgin Mary. Although pigment has faded due to age, the Virgin Mary statue is still flushed with a magnificent red and gold, which indicates that the paints they used were mixed with real gold powder.  

This is the second basement level of the Takamagahara. The building actually had a second underground floor and one of the four elevators was a freight elevator that could reach this floor.

"This house looks pretty old!" Lu Mingfei exclaimed, "This style is not like a Japanese house." 

"Before World War II, this was a Catholic church. After the Meiji Restoration, many priests came to Japan to preach, and there were many Catholics at that time. This was once a stronghold of the faithful in Tokyo, where dozens of priests lived and held regular services and masses." Chu said, "When Tokyo was bombed in World War II, the bas-reliefs and arches were destroyed, leaving only the main structure intact. The store manager saw its location and rented it, spending a lot of money to renovate it into a nightclub. The stage was originally where the organ was housed, and the card seating area was originally the choir stalls. This floor was a confessional and reading room, and was used as a bombing shelter during World War II. To this day it is a government-planned shelter, although the store manager is using it as a storage room." 

You’re riding on Caesars back, your legs straddling his waist and propped up by his arms. Even though there was no danger yet, you were still slightly inebriated by your night’s show and he insisted on carrying you until you sobered up. Practical reasons aside, he made it clear that he wanted you to stay close to him. You were essential to the mission. You surmised also that his own personal code of honor and justice pushed him to go the extra mile.

Everywhere the flashlight swept was grey with dust. The four walls were painted with chalk. The floor was just smoothed with cement. The walls still had traces of smoke and fire and, in the corners, were stacked organ parts, enamel-decorated pulpits, and two or three human-high crosses with aged ochre vestments hanging from them. You can vaguely feel the prosperity of this Catholic Church back then. You imagine the clergy shuttling to and fro, the sound of voices reciting the Bible. No one could have imagined that, a hundred years later, this place would become a nightclub of sound and fury of male strippers.

Chu Zihang found a cellar well in the corner of the hall. It was covered by an old-fashioned cast iron well cover. The rusty cover was probably hundreds of years old, and the German markings of the cast iron company were indistinct. Chu Zihang and Caesar worked together to move the well cover, and the sound of water gurgled in the darkness. 

"The sewer entrance is actually inside the building!" Lu Mingfei whispered in surprise, “So Hydra won’t even notice us going in and out of the Takamagahara!”

"It's indeed a very coincidental thing." Chu Zihang said, "I also did not expect the entrance to the sewer would be hidden in Takamagahara. I found the sewer map of Shinjuku district from the Internet. It doesn’t look very big. There are only a dozen sewer entrances and exits. Most of them are housed in a sewage treatment station. Only this cellar well is the exception. It should have been sealed long ago, but because it was connected to the shelter, it happened to provide an escape route, so it was preserved. I should say we got lucky, we found the shelter at the same time we touched the back entrance of Genji Heavy Industries."

Lucky, huh? You raise your eyes again to the statue of the Virgin Mary and the words of Z in your dream echoed. He was doing this for a reason. Was it revenge for Black Swan Bay? If so, why wait 20 years? He told you frankly that you wouldn’t be able to understand until the very end. But your skin was starting to crawl.

“MC! Come on.” Caesar was waiting for you at the entrance. He once again lifted you up on his back and carefully you descended into the pipe.

They went down the iron staircase into the sewer, the flashlight illuminating the mossy brick wall. The structure of this section of the sewer was very old, completely different from the modern Iron Dome shrine, with a semicircular cross section. A water channel was in the middle and narrow paths for walking were on both sides. The ceiling is draped with some kind of aquatic plant, dark green and hair-thin, and if you are not careful, they will brush your face like cold hands in the dark. There was a foot-long black shadow slowly creeping across the corner, and when Chu Zihang shone his torch over it, it suddenly accelerated and disappeared into the dark green plants, emitting a woofing sound similar to a dog's bark. Lu Mingfei was so scared that he leaned back, Caesar held him up in time, otherwise he would have been planted in the gutter. 

“Stop being so jumpy!” He hissed.

"It's a mud salamander, a kind of salamander, native to North America." Chu Zihang locked the thing's exposed long tail with the beam of the flashlight. "It eats the eggs of aquatic animals, which prevents them from overpopulating the sewers. They put them in the sewers as scavengers." 

"Holy shit! Scared the hell out of me! There are actually such dumb things in the sewers!"

"Each city's sewers are an ecosystem, where there is sufficient water but basically no sunlight. Those species that can adapt to the darkness will quickly reproduce and eventually form a stable biosphere." Chu Zihang walked ahead with a flashlight, "The sewer ecosystem of each city is different, related to the city's rainfall, temperature and the acidity of the groundwater. The most important thing to be careful of here is the small things like blood worms, they may lay eggs on you. The big things are mostly not dangerous, even the water snakes are also not venomous." 

"Anywhere you go, the sewers are not built all at once. The sewers you see now are the sewers of Shinjuku district a hundred years ago. Tokyo had a massive renovation of the sewer system ten years ago, connecting all the old sewer systems, and the excess groundwater enters the Iron Dome Shrine through the various sewers, and is purified and discharged into the sea from the mains. If we keep walking, we’ll eventually enter the main channel." Chu Zihang glanced at the map in his hand, "About 600 meters further we will pass under the Shinjuku subway station, where there will be giant water turbines, through the turbine holes we will enter the Iron Dome Shrine." 

"Brother were you born in the sewers, so you know so much about them?" 

"I googled it."

"But you can't read Japanese." 

"I have Google Translate, and I learned a few sentences of Japanese through Google Translate." Chu Zihang switched to Japanese and said, "Thank you for your patronage. I look forward to seeing you again. Would you like some more wine? Cry if you are sad. And that's about it." 

“You’re so smart.” You say, “Maybe someday I’ll be as smart as you.”

“You’re very intelligent in your own way, MC. Mostly by way of survival. In Chizuru, you didn’t hesitate to wait until nightfall, find your own clothing, make your way to the Internet Cafe and fend off attackers. You recognized the danger of the gangsters long before we did. And in the end, if I hadn’t distracted you, you probably would not have been injured. Those are the major examples. I could go on longer with the smaller examples. When I think of them I’m glad you’re our friend and not our enemy.”

“Aw…” You say, resting your head between Caesar’s shoulder and neck. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Caesar snorted. “Speaking of flirting, I’m very surprised not even the hottest men of Tokyo could earn your favor tonight. You really didn’t see anything in any of them?”

“They each tried to sell themselves to me very well. But I wasn’t interested in what they had to offer. It’s not that they didn’t have anything.”

“If you had no choice and had to pick one… which one would you choose?”

“That’s a weird question. I’m wondering why it matters. Have you bet on a favorite to win?”

“No. I just don’t think it’s good to walk alone in the world. I was honestly hoping that you and Mingfei Lu would get along a bit better but…”

“It wouldn’t be good for someone like me to court an ordinary human. Playing like this for a show is… alright.”

“You loved someone back in your old place… what was he like?”

“She.”

Caesar’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh!”

Mingfei’s head swiveled in your direction. “You like girls!” He slaps his forehead. “It all makes so much sense now!”

“I didn’t know I did until I was asked that question about lost love. It’s a bit sadder now because if I had understood my feelings then, I would have told her.” You shift your gaze back to Mingfei. “Can I ask you something? Are both your parents Chinese?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look like someone I used to know. I think he may still be alive. I liked him too.” 

“Then you swing both ways?” Lu Mingfei seemed to be having a mini-crisis. How was he supposed to protect your innocence from everyone in existence? It was funny to see him frantically holding back his bangs, concerned about that rather than being worried about breaking into the headquarters of the most powerful organization in Japan.

Caesar’s eyes shifted in your direction. “If you need help searching for survivors, you have the full support of the Student Union.”

“Thanks… If anyone could survive, it would be him.”

“That would be nice if you could meet again. Pick up where you left off maybe?” Mingfei rested his arms behind his head.

You stare at him in silence and give a sigh, your chest rising against Caesar’s back.

“Don’t mind him. It’s going to hit him in like an hour.” Caesar grumbles.

You bury your head in his shoulder, giggling.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood (Sirius Black xF!Oc)

A/N: New series!! This time coming from the wonderful world of Harry Potter, something we’re very fond of here <3 We haven’t established a day to post this though! 

Words: 1,793

Warnings: None :)

Next part --->

Chapter 1: Pure Blood

The Singh family has lived in the British wizarding world for several decades. Their policy of purebloods has prevailed along with their hatred for muggles.

This ideology is shared by many families, but especially with the Malfoys and the Blacks. All the wizarding world knew who these families were, and they were respected and admired, even feared.

The last Singh generation was conformed by Ares Singh II, his wife Amelia, and their five children: Apollo, Isis, Juno, Balder, and Persephone. As expected, this family attended Hogwarts and they all have been part of either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Their pride is lasting, and the adults make sure to inculcate all traditions to their children.

But their story will soon be threatened by the changes that the youngest Singh is trying to accomplish. And it all starts when she and her best friend Sirius Black begin their first year at Hogwarts in 1971.

—————————————————————————

“We’ll be waiting for your letter, Persephone. To let us know you’re in the right house.”

The eleven-year-old girl nods at her mother’s petition. Amelia Singh fixes the long, black hair of her last daughter and gives her one final, small hug.

“And remember, don’t mix with the mudbloods,” Adds Ares Singh. The girl nods again and her father smiles, also giving her a hug, “be careful, dear.”

“I’ll be fine, daddy,” She says when they break apart.

Balder, take care of your sister and chaperone her if it’s necessary,” Demands the man to his fourth son, who only nods as a reply.

The adults keep giving the rest of their children indications and words of farewell, especially to their oldest one, Apollo, who only has one year before he graduates.

The little girl didn’t want to stay for the rest of the lectures, so she started to look for her best friend. Her eyes went from one side to the other without being able to find him.

“There they are,” Mentions Isis while signaling to a column in the distance, the whole Black family is there. Persephone thanks her older sister and runs towards their direction.

While pushing and apologizing, she gets there the moment when Walburga Black is giving her own lecture to her oldest son.

“I understand,” The boy sighs.

“Good,” The woman nods and turns around only to notice the presence of the girl, “Persephone, where are your parents?” She asks with a small smile.

The little girl shivers at her expression, smiling wasn’t something that Mrs. Black did quite often.

“Next to the big windows, Mrs. Black”

She nods and takes her husband’s hand to drag him with her, following the indications of the girl.

“Your mother is scary,” Says the girl to her friend. The boy only laughs at her comment.

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you nervous, Sirius?” She can’t help but notice how his hands are shaking.

“I don’t know, Percy. It’s…” He holds his hands trying to control them, “Nevermind, it’s not important.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Sirius stares at her intently, He feels the safety he’s always felt around her. Her dark eyes are looking at him with worry but, How could he tell her? Maybe they’ve been best friends since they were born, but they never talked about those subjects before.

How would she react if he tells her that he doesn’t want to be in Slytherin like the rest of his family? Or that he’s not so sure about what his parents say about the muggles and “mudbloods”?

“I  know…” Sirius smiles, “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“It’s not fair,” Says a voice beside them, “I want to go with you too.”

Persephone laughs at the funny face the younger Black is making

“Next year you will, Reggie.”

The boy groans but hugs her by the waist. She surrounds his shoulders and brings him closer.  

“Reg, leave Percy alone.”

Before Regulus can answer, a loud noise interrupts their chat. The train is about to leave. Sirius and Percy finish their goodbyes and hop on the train. Both search for an empty compartment.

“Percy, here,” Says the boy, opening one. The girl walks closer but soon realizes it’s not completely empty.

“Hi,” Sirius says, “can we sit here? all the others are taken.”

“Sure.”

Both kids get in and they sit in front of the other boys.

“I’m James, James Potter,” Says the kid in glasses.

“I’m Remus Lupin,” that kid causes certain curiosity to Percy, his face has several scars.

“I’m Sirius Black, and this is Percy.” The girl smiles politely.

“Is your name really Percy?” Asks James. She laughs and shakes her head.

“It’s short for Persephone.”

“Brilliant.”

On the way to school, the three boys and Percy had different conversations. James and Sirius animatedly talked about what they could do at school, Sirius can’t help but get excited about not being under the supervisión of his mum and James has tons of ideas to have fun. While Persephone and Remus shared the joy of being able to learn everything that the books were promising. Both couldn’t wait to read more and to start the school year.  

From time to time Sirius teased his friend about always being a “brainy", but she ignores his comments and keeps chatting with Remus.

When they arrive to the station, they stop and all the students are guided on different routes. First years must go on boat and have a fun little trip on their way to the castle. All the kids are amazed before the tall, huge castle.

“First years, get together!” Says a woman in green robes.

She gives indications once they go through the entrance and takes them towards a corridor.

“Very well,” She says once we’re in front of some wooden doors, “When you enter the great hall you’ll be assigned a house for the next seven years. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. If you’re lucky, you’ll find a new family in your house.

Persephone can’t wait to keep the family tradition alive, she knows her new he will be Slytherin, and she can imagine how proud her parents will feel. She’ll be around her siblings without being scolded for not behaving properly like a Singh, something that could often get annoying. But what excites her the most, is being able to spend more time with her best friend. She was glad their families had the same traditions.

However, Sirius’ nervousness does nothing but increase, he knew there was no way he would end up in Slytherin, any other house would be nice but the snake house.

The woman raises her wand and the giant doors open, everyone walks through them and watches as the magical details of the great hall welcomes them warmly. From the floating candles, the sky pictured on the ceiling, to the four tables before them, each one representing a house.

The first years stop in front of the teachers’ table and a small stall. Persephone turns to the table on her right and sees her older siblings, Apollo and Juno, both wearing a green robe. They look at her with a small smile, wave, and turn their attention back to the teacher.

The professor introduces herself as Minerva McGonagall, then she pulls out a ragged, pointy hat and leaves it on the stall. Everyone stares in expectation until the hat starts to move, he sings a welcoming message, when it ends, everyone applauds and the ceremony starts.

The professor extends a parchment and starts calling each student by name, every boy and girl are selected in different houses.

“Black, Sirius.”

As soon as Persephone hears the name, she reaches for his hand and gives it a soft squeeze. Sirius smiles a little, walks towards the bench and McGonagall puts the hat on top of his head. It’s silent for a moment, Percy watches, biting her lower lip.

Why is it taking so long? He’s a Black, he belongs in-

“Gryffindor!” Exclaims the hat. The lions’ table applauds and screams out of excitement for the new kid. While the youngest Singh stares in utter horror while her best friend walks towards the table.

Sirius can’t believe that the hat chose to put him in a house that wasn’t Slytherin. He’s happy, and this happiness only increases when the kids that were on the train with him and Percy joins him on the table.

The kid was forgetting, though, that certain little person did not want to belong in that group.

 __________________________________________

“Professor Mcgonagall?”

“Yes?” She lowers her eyes to find the little girl beside her.

“My name is Persephone Singh”

“Of course, you’re the youngest of Ares’ children, aren’t you?” The girl nods.

“Yes, professor, but…” She frowns, “I didn’t come here only to introduce myself”

“What do you need, Miss Singh?”

“You see,” She says, trembling a little, “I think the sorting hat has made a mistake.”

McGonagall looks at the child in mild surprise.

“You think?” Persephone nods, “What makes you think that way? ”

“My best friend, Sirius Black. He was put in Gryffindor, but he has to be in Slytherin… with me,” She adds slightly anxious.

“Miss Singh, I’m afraid that if this is about wanting to be with Mister Black only to spend time together, I can’t help  you”

“You don’t understand!” She insists, raising her voice a little, “He has to be in Slytherin, otherwise his parents…” she stops, giving a second thought to what she was about to say, “they were there too. All his family it’s from Slytherin.”

“Sorry, Singh, the selection is over,” The woman puts a hand on her shoulder, “and it looks like Black has the characteristics of a Gryffindor.”

Persephone panics at the thought of the punishment Sirius will face when he tells his parents the news. She, better than anyone, knows how Walburga Black wasn’t a loving mother, and Persephone was sure this wouldn’t be accepted by her. She was worried about Sirius.

On the other hand, someone else had listened to her conversation, a boy, hiding behind one column close to where the girl and the woman were standing.

Little James Potter didn’t mean to spy on them at first, it was at hearing his new friend’s name that he couldn’t help but stay. When the conversation ended, James was upset with the girl, misunderstanding Persephone’s intentions, he thought that she didn’t want Sirius away from her and that she, like the rest of the Slytherins, hated his house. It seemed unfair to him, on the train she acted all nice and he even considered being friends with her even after hearing that she got sorted in Slytherin, but at that moment, he realized she was nothing but another one of the snakes.

[gldngrl7]

Karamel Fic: Permission to Flourish (11/11)

Title: Permission to Flourish

Author: gldngrl7

Date Started: February 12, 2017

Rating: T for Teen (I know!  I can’t believe it either!)

  Author’s Notes:  

This story is the sequel to Bulletproof. Please read that one-shot before diving into this one.

FINAL CHAPTER!!!  Looks like we made it.

I’m toying with the idea of writing some one-shot “interludes” of stories that took place during the missing six years. Because I definitely thought there was going to be more Clark in this story.  There just didn’t seem to be much room for him with everything going on. If those plot bunnies are still in my head after I finish the next HOLG story then I might.  On the other hand, it’s highly likely that new show canon could kick off the need to write something else.  I JUST DON’T KNOW!!

Comments are welcomed, flames are destroyed with my freeze breath.

So many, many thanks to my those who’ve taken the time to comment: @lostin-the-desert, @anaveragegirl15, @threesilverthings88, @emarasmoak, @myfangirlinghq, @hermi1907, @wladyb91, @from-love-to-infinity-and-beyond, @fangirlintheforest

         I'm so in love with you

          And I hope you know

               Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold

     We've come so far my dear

          Look how we've grown

               And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old

     Just say you won't let go

              --James Arthur – “Say You Won’t Let Go”

 Chapter 11/11

 Messages from Belinda informed him that Amelia was improving by the hour and had even been moved to a private room.  She’d texted ��PRIVATE ROOM!!!!’ in all caps with what seemed to Mike like a preponderance of exclamation points.

 He’d planned to visit his star student as soon as school let out Monday, so after speed-grading their verb-tense homework, he rushed over there (by car), exchanging yet another light-hearted text with Kara before leaving the school.  They’d been texting like teenagers in love since he’d had to peel himself away from her on Sunday night and fly back to Philadelphia.

 “But this is good,” he said aloud, to the solitude of his Honda Civic.  “We’re getting to know it each other again, without all that pesky physical attraction constantly distracting us.”  Physical attraction which, as it turned out, was not-unexpectedly explosive…and dangerous to furniture.

 Sunday morning had dawned like his entire life had decided to turn over a new leaf.  He’d opened his eyes to find Kara leaning over him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, as she gazed down at him wistfully.  She hadn’t expected him to wake, and yanked her hand away like a child caught elbow-deep in a cookie jar.  “I’m sorry,” she’d rushed, her blood lighting a fire beneath her cheeks.

 “I’m a much lighter sleeper than you are,” he had yawned.

 “I see that now.”

 Mike had reached for her hand and taken hold of it. “And I thought we said no more apologies.”

 “About old stuff,” she’d nodded, as he tossed off the blanket and stood up.  That close to her, he could smell the minty-fresh flavor of her toothpaste.  He’d salivated at the thought of tasting her.  “Not about new stuff.”

 It had been on the tip of his tongue to compliment her on her apologizing skill, apparently honed to a razor sharp edge in the six years they were parted.  But needling her about her stubborn inability to apologize in their previous acquaintance fell into a grey area of the ‘no reminders’ policy.  “Just out of curiosity,” he’d said instead, “were you sorry about touching me, or sorry about getting caught?  Because those are two very different things.”

 Squinting her eyes Kara had smiled slyly.  “Sorry about waking you up,” she’d said, choosing option ‘C’.

 Mike had laughed at her diplomatic answer.  Diplomacy must have been a recently gained trait as well. The Kara he remembered had barreled through people without bothering to see whose feelings she was stepping on, especially if she thought a cause was just.  “Is your curiosity assuaged?” he asked. “That I’m real, and not some figment conjured by a dream?”

 Her eyes had widened to huge blue pools he could happily swim in, as though he had plucked the thoughts directly from her mind. “How did you know?”

 Mike had smiled in a way he hoped came of as enigmatic. “I believe I promised you breakfast?” he tested.

 “You did?”

 She’d remembered nothing about being put to bed the night before.  “Uh-huh. When I tucked you in and you asked me stay.”

 “I did?”  His words had stoked the fire in her cheeks to a high burn and she’d covered her flaming cheeks with both hands.  He’d been slammed with the need to kiss away the deep crinkle between her eyebrows.  

 “You were afraid you’d wake up to find it had all been a dream.”

 “I said that?”

 “More or less.”  In a moment of courage he can only blame on sleepiness and head full of romantic movies, he had grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest, slightly to the right of center, over his rapidly beating heart.  “So tell me…can you feel this?  Does this feel real to you?”

 She’d gulped visibly and he’d heard her own heart’s rhythm kick into high gear, which in turn had his stomach flip-flopping like an Olympic gymnast on steroids.  “Y-yes,” she’s stuttered, before biting her juicy red lip to stop it from trembling.

 Mike, still holding her hand over his heart, had wrapped his other hand around her waist and tugged her hips flush against his. “And that?” he’d asked.  “Does that feel real to you?”  His body had stirred even before he woke this morning, and her presence above him had served only to enflame him further.

 “Yes,” she’d breathed, nodding vigorously, her pelvis settling deeper into his as though hoping they could merge.  “Mon-El?” she asked, using his true name.  He hadn’t corrected her, but felt a thrill go through him at his name on her lips.  Though he’d been Mike Matthews for a long time now—had finally made his peace with the concept of becoming Mike Matthews—he could be Mon-El for her.  For her and no one else.

 “Yes?” he’d responded, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips.

 “I’m not afraid anymore.”  Her courage had taken over then as she’d seen within her grasp the culmination of six years of agonizing fantasy a heart’s beat from fulfillment.  She had reached up with her free hand and cupped the back of his neck pulling his mouth down to hers, making her declaration on where she’d wanted their actions to lead.

 If he could have taken a breath in that moment, he would have breathed a sigh of relief, because he hadn’t been sure if he was pushing too far, too fast.  If the actions of her tongue had been anything to guess by, he hadn’t been moving fast enough.

 When he’d pulled away, he’d rested his forehead against hers, their heavy breathing mingling together.  “Definitely not a dream,” he’d pronounced.

 “Definitely not,” she’d agreed, her breath coming in ragged gasps, as her arms wrapped securely around his neck.

 What had followed had been a flurry of clothing removal, of heated couplings that splintered furniture, knocked pictures from walls, shattered shower tiles and had more than one neighbor concerned for the safety of sweet, innocent neighborly neighbor, Kara Danvers.  And once started, it was like they couldn’t stop, their bodies drawn together like magnets—magnets all the more heated for having been kept apart for so long.

 But for all of its urgency and passion, it had still been at its heart…lovemaking—soul-binding and heart-affirming lovemaking.  Even though neither had yet to find the courage to actually say the words, it had been clear as the diamonds sparkling in her comet-like eyes.  And he had never in his life worshipped someone with his touch the way he had Kara. It was seared into his brain like a brand to the skin, and he had replayed it all over and over since leaving her naked, on the remains of her mattress, less than twenty-four hours ago.

 As he traversed the hallways of the hospital, he juggled his phone, laptop bag, and the giant get-well soon card made from poster board by the entire second grade roster of classes, until he found the elevator that would take him to the 7th floor, where Amelia was now located. Stepping inside the elevator with a crowd of other people all headed to different floors, Mike shot another text to her.

 “Just leave the mattress on the floor.  Safer maybe?”  He hit send after navigating to and choosing the deep thought emoji.

 “Safer for who?” she shot back.

 “Whom,” he corrected, adding a wink emoji.

 “Grammar Nazi!” she accused, frowny face emoji.

 “Teacher,” he replied, shrug emoji.

 “Safer for WHOM?” she asked again.

 “For the people in the apartment below you. Whatever.  If you do decide to get a new bed, steel reinforced…?"

 “It would have to be custom built…”

 “Get an estimate.  I’ll pay half.”

 “Bet your rock-hard ass you will,” she replied, blush emoji.

 He laughed out loud, happier than he’d been in…ever, well aware that the people getting on the elevator were staring as he exited at the top floor.  Mike checked his direction, looking for the yellow line on the wall that would lead him to “Yellow Station” and to Amelia’s room.    He wondered if there would be a wizard at the end of this yellow brick road.  He wondered if Frank Baum was appropriate reading material at story time for second graders.

 Tucking his phone into the back pocket of his slacks as he neared Amelia’s room, he came perilously close to running into a man in a dark suit exiting the door.  The man held up a brown leather briefcase to ward off Mike’s near collision.

 “Excuse me,” they said in unison.  The man in the suit nodded courteously before walking away.

 “Knock, knock,” Mike announced as he entered the room.

 Pink roses.

 They were everywhere.  On every flat surface, in every type of arrangement, in every shape of vase imaginable, pink roses had taken over the room.  The smell, though pleasant, was unmistakable.

 “Mr. Matthews!” he heard a recognizable shout. It was music to his ears, but still he held his finger up to his lips in their customary sign language for her to lower her voice.  Obeying his command, she lowered her volume to library voice.  “Mr. Matthews!”  Yet, she still managed to imbue his name with the exact amount of enthusiasm, despite the lowered volume.

 “I thought you were supposed to be trying to be quiet, per the doctor’s orders.”  Mike took note of Belinda in corner, reading something, her eyes widening, a freshly torn open envelope in her other hand.  He thought now might be the time for him to distract Amelia while Belinda finished doing whatever it was she was doing.

 “It’s so hard,” she whined.

 “I know,” he chuckled.

 “Aren’t they pretty, Mr. Matthews?” she asked, referring to the sea of pink roses.

 “Yes they are,” he agreed.  “Where did they come from?”

 Amelia shrugged.  “Mommy says they are from someone named Amomynissly.  That’s a silly name.”

 “I think what Mommy means is that you have a secret admirer.”

 “Really?”

 “Yes.”

 “What’s that?” she inquired, pointing to the poster board in his hand.

 “Well this is a card signed by the whole second grade,” he informed her.  “Everyone wants you to get well fast so you can come back to school.”

 “Did Ricky Prescott sign it?” she asked, her eyes squinting suspiciously.  She and Ricky were not exactly bosom buddies.

 “I don’t know,” Mike responded.  “Maybe you’d like to read it and find out.”  He relinquished the handmade card to her grasping right hand, noticing that her left hand had very little to do with the process.  “While you do that, I’m going to see what’s got your mother’s attention.”

 Whatever it was, Mike couldn’t tell if it was good news or bad news based simply on her facial expression.  Even after six years he could still read every one of Kara’s ‘crinkles’ but Belinda’s micro-expressions were a mystery to him. “Everything all right, Belinda?” he asked, tilting his head a little to see if he could get her look up at him. “What is it?”

 Belinda lifted her eyes to meet his, confusion in their depths.  “That man who just left…he’s a lawyer for something called The Fairchild Foundation. He had some papers for me to sign and gave me this letter.”

 “What does it say?” he wondered.  Something about the name Fairchild Foundation sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it.

 “Here,” she replied, handing him the letter.  “It seems so impossible, I still can’t believe what it says, even after reading it a dozen times.  At least.”

 Mike read through the letter.  The wording was clear and concise, like his college acceptance letter.  “It says here that an application for financial assistance has been accepted on your behalf with The Fairchild Foundation and that all of Amelia’s medical expenses both present and future until she reaches the age of 26 will be paid in full.”

 “I don’t know how this…what application?  What’s The Fairchild Foundation?  Do you know anything about this?”

 “I don’t know anything about an application. Maybe someone from the hospital submitted it?  A doctor or co-worker?  Five days in ICU,” he suggested.  “That can’t be cheap.”

 “It’s not,” she confirmed.  “We have insurance—decent insurance—but I would have been paying down the out-of-pocket for those five days for the rest of my life.  I was trying not to think about it, but I would be lying if I said I couldn’t hear the bills piling up.”

 “Looks like you can put those thoughts to rest and just worry about that miracle in the bed over there.”

 “Yeah,” she nodded, looking around the room at the sea of pink blooms.  “I guess so. And then there’s these flowers….”

 “Belinda,” he interrupted before she could get too far with her concerns.  “Someone wanted to help you out, maybe in the only way they knew how, or the only way they could.  Sometimes accepting their gift is the best way to say ‘thank you’.”

 “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

 Mike watched Amelia scouring the get well card for messages from friends and other names she recognized.  Mr. Snuggles was stuffed unceremoniously under her left arm. “What’s that about?” Mike asked, worried.

 “She has some left side paralysis,” Belinda nodded. “She came out of the coma mentally intact, for which I am very thankful, but the injury wasn’t without consequences.”

 “What does the doctor say?”

 “Dr. Dagmar doesn’t see any reason why, without physical therapy she can’t regain full mobility.  But it’s going to take time and effort on her part.  I’m going to have to find a way to keep her motivated.”

 Mike’s phone ‘blooped’ and he tugged it out of his pants, shooting off a quick response to the equally quick message he received.  “I might have a few ideas about how to do that.”

 “Well, I’m all ears.”

 “I have a little surprise I know she’s going to like.”

 “What is it?”

 “Well it’s kind of a surprise for you too. Won’t be long now.”

 “I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises today,” Belinda cringed.  “I’m expecting to wake up any minute now and find that I’m still sitting in that uncomfortable chair in the ICU.”

 Mike nodded in understanding.  “I’ve had a similar experience myself recently.  I found that sometimes it pays off to let yourself believe that good things can happen.”  Leaving it at that, Mike sat down on the end of Amelia’s bed and asked her if she liked the card.  She nodded a resounding yes.

 “So…do you remember what happened, Amelia?  Why you ended up in the hospital?”

 Amelia’s smile slipped and she shook her head. “Mommy says I fell.”

 “You were climbing on the jungle gym,” he reminded her. “Way higher than you were supposed to go.  And when you fell, you hit your head on the monkey bars on the way down.”

 “I did?”

 “You did,” he confirmed.  Mike chucked her on the chin with his finger.  “How about you don’t do that again, huh?”

 Amelia nodded.  “I’m sorry.”

 “I know.  But there’s a good part of this story too.”

 “There is?”

 “You were hurt pretty badly, and we needed to get you to the doctors fast.  Faster than the ambulances can go.  And just when we thought that wasn’t going to happen, guess who showed up?”

 “Who?”

 Mike leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Supergirl.”

 Amelia gasped, her eyes widening to a nearly impossible size, her tiny body practically seizing with excitement.  “Supergirl?!”

 “Supergirl,” he confirmed with a grin.  The expression on her face was every bit as awestruck as he had imagined it would be.  “She scooped you up in her arms and flew you all the way here in about two seconds.”

 “I flew with Supergirl?”  Check that.  Her eyes could in fact widen further.

 “You did.”

 Her face fell, the beautiful sun-struck smile melting from her face which seemed to literally dim the room.  “But I don’t remember.”

 “I know,” he pulled a frown as though commiserating with her.  “But I made a few inquiries, worked a little of my ‘magic’, called in a few favors, and guess what?”

 “What?” Amelia asked, her excitement rebuilding.

 At her cue, Supergirl stepped into the room, arms akimbo in her trademark stance and asked, “And how is the patient today?”

 Mike kept his eyes on Amelia the whole time as her entire being lit up like a tiny atomic bomb had detonated inside of her.  She gasped, almost choking on her excitement, nearly coming apart at the seams in the face of her fangirl bliss.  Mike held his finger up to his lips.  “Remember you’re supposed to be quiet.  Whispers only.  Can you do it?”

 He would not have thought it possible that someone could scream and whisper with the same breath, but apparently it was Amelia’s superpower.  “Supergirl!” she vocalized, every muscle in her body seizing with joy.

 Neither was Belinda immune to the presence of Supergirl.  “Oh my gosh!” she gasped, barely able to gather the air in her lungs to do so. Unable to properly express the full breadth of her feelings in words, she threw her arms around Supergirl’s neck and proceeded to babble.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much.  You saved my baby’s life.”

 “Oh, okay,” Supergirl chuckled, accepting the Belinda’s attack-hug, and gently, if a little awkwardly, returning it.  When Belinda tore herself away from the superhero, embarrassed by her outburst, Supergirl said, “I was just the ambulance service; the doctor’s saved her life.  I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time.”

 “Why were you there?” Belinda wondered, covering her embarrassment over getting a little too familiar with a perfect stranger. Even if that perfect stranger saved her daughter’s life.

 “Visiting an old friend,” she replied without hesitating.

 “I can’t thank you enough,” Belinda said, tears spilling down her cheeks.

 “You just did,” Supergirl assured, her empathy on full display as she stroked the other woman’s upper back to soothe her.  “But I thought I’d come and hang out for a while. Maybe get to know Amelia while she’s awake.”

 “I don’t know if you noticed…but I think she’d be okay with that.”  Both Supergirl and Belinda turned to Amelia who sat on her knees on the bed, right hand clutching Mr. Snuggles for dear life, practically panting at the opportunity to hang out with her idol.

 Mike grasped Supergirl’s forearm before she could get to the bed and whispered, “How long were you in the hallway?”

 “Long enough,” she nodded.  “I know what to do.”

 He threw her a wink and she responded in kind.  It felt so good to be partners again.  Real partners this time, on equal footing. ‘Okay,” he said, “I need to step outside for a few minutes and make a phone call.”

 But before he could do that, Belinda grabbed his arm, preventing him from leaving.  “How?” she asked.  “How did you pull this off?  This was the surprise you were talking about, right?”

 “It was more her, really,” he downplayed his involvement, unable to clarify how the entire surprise really came into being.   How could he explain that he and Supergirl had concocted the whole plan while taking a shower together after sweating up the sheets of the latter’s demolished bed?  “She tracked me down.  She has her ways.  After that…it was just about figuring out the timing.  She wanted to see for herself how Amelia was doing.”

 “Thank you,” she said.

 “It really was all her.”  Mike spared a glance for the alter ego of the woman he loved, finding that she had climbed aboard the bed with Amelia.  Supergirl lay back on one elbow, her legs crossed at the ankles, and her cape wrapped around the little girl like a blanket, while the two chatted like they were old friends.  With a smile and a nod at Belinda he excused himself from the room.

 Out in the corridor, he scanned through the contacts on his phone until he located the one he sought.  Surprisingly, the phone only rang twice this time before he picked up on the other end – as if he’d been waiting.

 “Wayne.”  His gravel voice was like a command, as though ‘Wayne’ was verb and he fully expected Mike to perform it.  But Mike didn’t play that game, and he wasn’t intimidated by the billionaire.

 “Pink roses?” he asked.

 “It seemed the right choice for an eight-year-old girl.”

 “Seven-going-on-eight,” he replied automatically.

 “I stand corrected.  Did she like them?”

 “Of course,” Mike chuckled.  “Her room is filled with pink flowers from a secret admirer. She feels very special.  I assume you’re responsible for the private room as well?”

 “How else was there going to be space enough for 1200 pink roses?” he asked, as if this should be obvious.  “About the roses…I paid extra for the Baby’s Breath.  Was there plenty of Baby’s Breath?”

 “I don’t know what that is.”

 “Dilettante,” Wayne shot back.  “I’m told she’s doing well.  We’re setting her up with a private physical therapist. She’ll get her left side back in no time.”

 “How can you know that?”

 “Wayne Enterprises has access to her medical records now.”

 “So that was you?” he confirmed.  Mike had suspected as much, but wasn’t certain.  “I knew I’d heard of The Fairchild Foundation but I couldn’t remember where.”

 “You must have seen some paperwork in the Manor when you were training with me.”

 “Must have.”

 “At any rate, Ms. Connor’s signature give us access to Amelia’s medical records until she’s eighteen and she can decide for herself if she wants to continue the program.  We’ll be collecting data on her head injury, as well as any medications and treatments she’s subjected to.  The hope is that the medical R&D arm of Wayne Enterprises can find a way to completely reverse Traumatic Brain Injury or mitigate its damage.  The fact that she’s a child is an important part of why she’s needed in this study.  Sadly, few children her age survive a trauma like that, or come out of it with so few ill effects.  Had it not been for the quick actions of you and Supergirl, they’d likely be taking her off the ventilator right about now and donating her organs.  She’s going to help save the world, Matthews.”

 Mike shuddered at the thought of Amelia’s situation turning out any other way than it had.  “Careful, Wayne…your empathy is showing.”

 “You’re right.  I should go hit something,” he deadpanned.

 “Well, they don’t know who to thank, but I do. So…thank you, Bruce.”

 “It was my pleasure,” Bruce groused, clearly uncomfortable with receiving thanks either for heroic deeds or acts of charity. “So…if that’s all…?”

 “Actually there’s one more thing.  I wanted to say…about that other thing…”

 “The thing you were so mad at me about?”

 “That’s the one.  I wanted to say thanks for that too.”

 “So everything worked out after all?”

 “You could say that.  I flew to National City and we talked things out.  And then we worked through it in ways that didn’t involve talking.”

 “Okay, we’ll keep that between us.  You don’t want that getting back to Clark.  Or maybe I do….could be fun.”

 “I know where you live, you overgrown bat,” he threw out the empty threat as though he’d used it a hundred times.

 “How’s this going to work between you?” Wayne wondered. “A bi-coastal life?”

 “It’s a 31 minute commute at hypersonic speed from Philadelphia to National City.  Slightly less than the average rush hour commute in Philly.  And there’s always weekends and summer break.”  They’d discussed the matter between them during one of their few breaks from Sunday lovemaking, recognizing that they could not be parted for long.  

 Inescapable.

 “Just be careful,” Wayne cautioned.

 “Careful about what?”

 “Hashtag SupergirlInPhilly is already trending on Twitter.  That’s twice in less than two weeks.  If ValorInNC starts trending…how long do you think it’s going to take the tabloids to crunch those numbers?  Or CatCo? Or the Daily Planet!  Lois might put it on the front page just for giggles.”

 “I’ll be careful,” he chuckled, seeing Wayne’s point.

 “Don’t screw this up, Matthews,” Wayne grumbled. “I might not be on your side next time.”

 “This was you being on my side?  You sold me out, as I recall!”

 “I was giving you what you needed.  I was tired of looking at your sad sack face.  It doesn’t become you.  I’m supposed to be the tortured one.”

 “Yes, I suppose ‘sad sack’ looks much better on you.”

 “Watch it, Matthews,” he warned, his voice deepening ever lower than its usual gravel baritone.

 “You walked right into that one.”

 “You were more fun when you didn’t sass me.”

 “I bet I was.”

 “This girl of yours gives you spirit.”

 “That’s one way of putting it.”

 “Don’t lose her,” Wayne said, a distinct tinge of sadness in his tone.  “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

 “I don’t know if you noticed, but my girl is pretty good at taking care of herself.  But don’t worry, I’ll always have her back.”

 Mike ended the call a moment later when he heard the door open and saw Supergirl slip out, turning back for one last wave to the little girl in the room.  She wore a crown woven from pink roses on her head.

 “How did it go in there?” he asked, reaching up to touch her flower crown.

 “I promised her I’d take her flying when she gets her left side working.”

 ‘That should do the trick.”  It was no less than what he expected from her.

  “Were you talking about me?” she whispered, she nods, motioning to her phone.

 “Among other things,” he teased, the dimples on his cheeks deepening.  He adjusted his glasses, like they were the touchstone that reminded him that this was his life now.

 “Was that Clark?”

 “Uh…Bruce, actually.  I called him to thank him for the….” Mike waved his hand to indicate the room.

 “He did all that?” she asked, incredulously.  Her brow furrowed.  “He doesn’t seem like the type.”

 “Still waters run deep with that guy.  He has his moments…apparently.”  Mike wanted to reach out and touch her, but even in this private wing of the hospital there were still people to see.  He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and she mirrored him by clasping her hands behind her back.  “I…uh…also called him to uh….” He cleared his throat, “to thank him for giving you my location.”

 “You did?” she grinned, sway back and forth so that her cape spun gently around the back of her legs.

 “I did.  Credit where credit is due, I guess.”

 She pinned him with a sultry gaze he was beginning to recognize.  “I want to get out of here.  Can we get out of here?”

 “I thought you’d never ask.”

 He said his goodbyes to Belinda and Amelia, promising to see them soon, and bring her homework next time (much to Amelia’s chagrin) before grabbing his things.  Mike and Kara separated at the elevator and he made his way out to the car, while she ducked into a supply room and changed back into Kara Danvers.  She met him in the parking lot and slipped into the passenger side of his Civic, pouting that it would me much faster to fly.

 He drove her home to his garage apartment, holding her hand the entire way.  Mike introduced her to the indomitable Mrs. Scheinbaum, who took one look at her and knew instantly who Kara was, as if seeing beyond masks was her superpower.  To her credit, she said nothing, only revealing her knowledge with a sly wink in his direction.  The three of them shared a pot of tea before Mike and Kara retreated to his apartment.

 They spent the night there, managing not to break a single piece of furniture or wake a single neighbor.  Although, to be fair, Mrs. Scheinbaum had made quite a lot of noise about taking her hearing aids out before going to bed.  Sometimes she didn’t like to do that.

 The next morning, Supergirl made a “surprise” visit to Fox Chase Elementary, where she shook hands and answered questions, accepted innumerable kisses on the cheek (some more sloppy than others) and gave a firm but good-natured lecture on playing it safe around playground equipment as well as the importance of following the rules set forth by adults.

 Every few minutes she glanced up to find Mon-El gazing at her, his eyes sparkling, his lips quirked up on one side as he watched her with a mixture of pride and joy.  They were here together, and he was hers at last, after years of unanswered yearning. Together they had laid out a plan (because Mon-El was big fan of plans and strategies) on how they would make this work.

 He wasn’t ready to leave Philadelphia, it was his city and more his home than National City or Metropolis ever had been.  Citizens embraced him here, proud to have a superhero of their very own.  The city limits even had signs that proudly proclaimed, ‘Welcome to Philadelphia: City of Brotherly Love and Home to Valor.’  They’d added that last bit just a few months ago.

 And likewise, National City was Kara’s home, where her sister and sister-in-law lived, where her work was headquartered, her contacts, her cultivated sources, and her growing reputation as a hard-hitting crime journalist.  Though she’d confessed to him while lying curled together atop a dangerously cracked kitchen table that she had once applied for a job with the Philadelphia Inquirer, he had quickly declared that he didn’t want that for her.  He didn’t want her to give up her hard earned reputation just so they could be closer to one another.  They could make it work this way—at least for now.

 And there was an unspoken truth there as well. Their lives would be long; longer than the human existence by several centuries if Dr. Danvers’ estimates were to be believed.  There was no reason to rush this towards some undetermined finish line, whatever that was. Because for them, there would be no finish until, one day in the far distant future, death would part them. For now, by mutual decree, they would enjoy each other to the fullest as well as this second chance they had resolved to take for themselves.

 Only one thing was for certain; with transgressions forgiven, and hearts on the mend, the future before them held endless possibilities.

 THE END.