#like she never posts on socials very much but she took an extra long break and like

[idsb]

.

[meefy]

2.,3.,5. and 14. for the roots game! any ans ocs but I would love to hear more about Xyvie :3

I'M SORRY THESE TOOK SO LONG i wanted to give as much detail as possible for all four of my AnS OCs and I hope you enjoy the Xyvie ones!

2. What was your OC's first job? Do they still work that job (or in that field), or do they do something else now?

Xyvie: she was too sick to work until she absolutely had to once her parents died, and they were no longer able to support her. She made and delivered cooked meals to the elderly, sick, or disabled residents of her small town. After moving to the royal palace in Tanbarun, she doesn't "work" so much as study (she wasn't able to go to school past what we'd consider late junior high) and she helps out the chefs once in a while!

Féanne: she wasn't allowed to work until she left home at the age of 24...she studied for two years and during that time in college worked as a scribe for extra money. Today she is Lata's trusty and beloved research assistant in the mineralogy department!

Feiran: he has been told all his life he needs to be a knight, and just sort of passively accepted it as his fate. Post-Féanne-fic, he goes to college and studies botany, and works with Yuzuri as her assistant in Lyrias.

Aleyan: a knight, like he was expected to be, then Vice Commander and finally Knight Commander of his knights circle. But,Feiran has been trying to get him to take charge of his life and decide what he truly wants to be.

3. How did your OC feel the first time they left home? Why did they leave?

Xyvie: afraid and overwhelmed mostly. She'd never been out of her village before except for shopping trips with her family. The circumstances of her leaving (going to the prince of her country to help solve her parents' murders) didn’t help matters either. She wasn’t used to such expensive, vast furnishings...

Féanne: elated and free. She left to pursue a higher education and make a career, rather than get married and help with the family business. She is very independent in that regard.

Feiran: he left for college both nervous but cautiously optimistic. He has a hard time settling in and thinking on his own without Féanne or Aleyan telling him what to do or believe; he doesn't settle in at Lyrias right away, as he is unused to seeing Féanne so independent and social. He ends up feeling a bit neglected and it takes some time for him to break out of his comfort zone and make his own acquaintances.

Aleyan: has never left home; as it stands, he will marry and live out the rest of his days in the family mansion - unless...

5. What did your OC think their life would be like when they grew up? Has it lived up to that expectation?

Xyvie: she had hope for a brighter future, and that the treatments and medical procedures her parents fought to pay for would grant her a new lease on life so she could work, go out, etc. Her parents' deaths and her failing health betrayed that hope. But she certainly never expected to marry the crown prince and move to the capital of Tanbarun...though once the shock of it all wore off, she's been settling in nicely.

Féanne: she dreaded her adult life, knowing she'd be destined to wed and stay put at her family's estate. Creating her own path, through studying and moving to Lyrias, has been her dream come true. And, meeting Lata (ie someone who loved and understood her for who she was) was an unexpected bonus to that.

Feiran: he looked forward to becoming a knight, until he realized it was not for him. But when he realized that, there was no going back, according to his father and elder brother - so he bowed his head and went along with it. But his sister encouraging him to leave gave him the motivation to try and forge his own journey towards happiness in Lyrias too. And though that move wasn't easy it did end up giving him the strength and independence he needed to succeed in his goals.

Aleyan: his life has played out exactly like how his family laid out for him...and though he'll never admit it, he wishes it hadn't. He’s never let himself think about what he actually wants vs. what others have told him he should want.

14. Who was your OC's first love? How do they remember that person now?

Note: where all of my OCs are aspec I am interpreting this question for both familial/platonic love.

Xyvie: she was very much a "daddy’s girl" as a young child so he’s likely who she’d consider her “first love”. Though as she got older they saw less of one another (he would work at the port town for weeks on end because travel was difficult), he continued to think of her often - he advocated for her strongly and vocally when she was unwell, and always brought her back treats and surprises from town when he returned home. She misses him dearly today and remembers, in fleeting and haunting images, how he tried to protect her when they were ambushed in the woods that night.

Féanne: her twin brother. He was the only person she could trust and rely on as a child; they were together since before they were born, so it only made sense. He remains her number-one person today.

Feiran: likewise, his twin sister Féanne…he is quite shy and reserved, and not overly demonstrative about it, but he cares for her more than anyone, enough that he chooses to shove aside his feelings of resentment and envy when she works up the courage to leave home for the first time.

Aleyan: he will tell you he loves his family above all else - that he wants nothing but the best for them. For Aleyan, the “best” is more materialistic - high status, great wealth, unlimited power. The way he shows it, however, is not really what one would consider love, and he feels mostly spite and resentment towards his twin siblings now…but that is mostly jealousy that they had the determination to stand up to their father and leave, and he did not.

15. What was comforting to your OC as a child? Do they still find comfort in that now?

Xyvie: she had a blanket her mother sewed for her as a baby that she slept with for quite a while. When she got older, the scraps of it became one of her favourite ponchos...so it continues to bring her comfort whenever she wears it.

Féanne: she'd stay up late at night, when her parents though she was asleep, with an oil lamp reading the books she'd secretly borrow from the kind elderly owner of a bookshop in town. She still loves to read, and doesn't have to hide away to do so anymore.

Feiran: counting his rock collection with his sister while hiding under his bed. Sometimes they'd play with them, building fortresses or sorting them by size, colour, etc. He gave his collection to Féanne when she moved out, but he takes comfort knowing she's putting it to good use in her studies.

Aleyan: cleaning his sword and doing reps. It made him feel special and important.

16. What does your OC's childhood bedroom look like?

Xyvie: she didn’t have one. Her family was poor and they shared the main living area as a “bedroom”, with an oversized futon that they’d roll up during the day or to receive guests. Xyvie got her own, smaller futon as an adult.

Féanne: what you’d expect in a high-end noble’s room: sheer curtains, queen-sized bed with a canopy and terribly-expensive linen and pillows, and a hand-carved desk to practice penmanship, with a few shelves for oil lamps and the occasional decorative plant or doll. The walls were otherwise painted a deep burgundy and had some oil portraits of herself and family on the walls. There was a dressing table with hair/skin products that she very rarely ever used (only when there were occasions she was forced to attend), and a walk-in closet with various fancy dresses that she also typically scorned. There was a small area with a canvas partition for bathing and changing. To her, it was very plain with no true personalization, and she hated it.

Feiran: very much like Féanne’s, except the walls were green, there was no dressing table (there was, however, a mirror and a few odds and ends), and there were hooks on the wall where he would rest his training sword. He also had a walk-in closet, with tunics and party attire. He was also permitted a shelf to display his rock collection, since it was considered an acceptable hobby for a young boy.

Aleyan: almost the same as Feiran’s, minus the rock collection. He also had a more varied assortment of training swords and shields, and a couple “real” metal ones, with some basic armour for training too. He also had a sewing kit on one of his shelves that one of the domestic workers (one of the ones who took a liking to Aleyan) let him borrow and showed him how to use thread and needle to hem one of his torn cloaks…and that eventually grew into his passion for sewing his own.

20. What were the most idyllic years of your OC's childhood? Does your OC miss those days?

Xyvie: riding in a coach with her parents and going into town to look at the marketplace down by the water. There was a baker’s stand she loved there, and her parents would set aside some money to buy her a lemon tart as it was her favourite. She misses those days greatly; she misses her parents and wishes she could spend that sort of day with them one more time.

Féanne: rolling around in the dirt with her twin brother, looking for rocks, bugs, cool sticks, etc. and overall ignoring her nannies’ demands that she keep her dresses neat and tidy. She especially loved seeing Feiran’s face light up when she was the one who found something particularly exciting. She misses that sort of innocence greatly, but she does not miss the sense of powerlessness she had when being scolded by adults for acting in “unladylike” ways.

Feiran: believing that he was going to be a strong, important knight like his brother and father, and that he'd earn their favour. He preferred spending time with Féanne growing up, but sometimes he liked to swing a stick or something around and pretend to be a warrior (like many children). He initially refused to start training until he was almost 13 (because he preferred to be with Féanne and she was not permitted to train as a knight) but he quickly realized he was not cut out for it…and by then he had been essentially threatened into continuing to train by his father and Aleyan, and it was too late. He prefers not to remember those days.

Aleyan: he was an only child until he was about five…and his parents took somewhat more interest in him then, taking him out to the knights training grounds to watch or for walks out on their family vineyard. But it was mostly nannies or domestic workers who looked after him; usually they'd bring him around the mansion to explore (as kids enjoy), and they'd let him help them sew, dust, bake, etc. Aleyan was much more curious and easygoing as a kid, and well-doted on as the firstborn son and only child. If he were to let himself reminisce on those days, he'd probably yearn for them quite strongly.

[d-andilion]

GERASKIER FAKE DATING

sorry for yelling I'm excited

okay i took my time filling this one but i think the results are worth it - i hope you think so too 😊

~

Jaskier is, surprisingly, a very good boyfriend.

Though being around old school friends and distant relations must have tempted him to abandon his anti-social plus one, he’s hardly left Geralt’s side all day. He introduces Geralt to everyone who approaches them and takes the lead in every conversation to minimize how much Geralt has to talk to strangers. After every interaction, Jaskier leads them inconspicuously to the edge of the room for a welcome break from the buzz of the reception hall around them.

Of course, being a groomsman and brother to the bride means Jaskier has had to step away for round upon round of pictures, but he never goes far and he returns the second he’s able. The only point over the course of the entire wedding where Geralt has had to speak to someone by himself was just after the ceremony, and even then it was only Jaskier’s grandmother. 

She was a sweet, stout old woman who smelled of the boiled sweets she pulled from her handbag every so often and popped into her mouth. She ambled up to Geralt the moment Jaskier stepped away, taking his arm as if she belonged there.

“Diedre,” she said. “But you call me Nan, everyone does.”

Geralt could only nod, but she didn’t seem to mind or even really notice. She chattered to him about how handsome he was, how polite and well mannered, nothing at all like anyone Jaskier had brought home before. Apparently, her “little Buttercup” had a habit of falling for unsuitable folk. He was just too sweet, she reckoned.

Jaskier hustled over to rescue him the moment his sister set him free from post-ceremony photos, kissing Nan’s cheek and transferring her from Geralt’s arm to one of the many cousins milling around.

Before Jaskeir could steer her away, though, she patted Geralt’s lapel with her gloved hand and smiled at him. “Perfect for my Buttercup,” she said. Jaskier’s blush could have stopped traffic.

Geralt imagines he could have done worse for solo social interactions in this crowd. He didn’t actually have to say anything to Nan before Jaskier saved him, and no one else has tried to corner him since. It’s been a long, long day, but Geralt has had worse. The food is amazing, the champagne flows freely.

And Jaskier is there. He’s in Geralt’s space, holding his hand, kissing his cheek, fixing his tie, smiling at him like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. Jaskier is the perfect, gentle, kind, attentive boyfriend.

Geralt just wishes Jaskier were his boyfriend.

Everyone thinks he is, of course. That was the plan. Jaskier came to Geralt a week before the wedding with big puppy eyes telling him about the very serious relationship he’d been lying to his parents about for the past few months. If Jaskier came to his sister’s wedding alone, even if he feigned some excuse for his non-existent significant other, his parents would surely be onto him. It had, apparently, happened before.

Geralt would be the perfect stand-in, Jaskier reasoned. His parents already knew Geralt a little, so there would be no chance that they wouldn’t like him, and the two of them were already so comfortable around each other that a little extra PDA would be no big deal. It was only one day of Geralt’s life with gourmet food and free top-shelf booze. It would be easy.

Now, standing in the dimly lit reception hall while a sickly sweet love song plays over the speakers with Jaskier tucked into his side in a perfectly fitted tux, Geralt feels like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet.

Being in love with his best friend had never been easy. Most days, it felt like drowning. But Geralt would give anything for that feeling right now, because this, watching Jaskier pretend to be his, pretend to be in love with him—

This feels like being buried alive.

Jaskier is talking, his voice low and intimate like no one exists outside their little bubble, and Geralt doesn’t hear a word because they’re so close. 

So close that their noses could touch if Geralt tilted his head the slightest bit, and it’s impossible to focus on the words coming out of Jaskier’s mouth when Geralt can feel the oxygen running out around him.

So close that Geralt can’t really see Jaskier’s face, just the blue of his eyes, and Geralt can feel his lungs burning as he forgets to breathe, but if he had to pick a way to go, he’d want a view like this.

So close that it’s awkward for Geralt to keep his hands to himself, so he places his hand on the small of Jaskier’s back and it feels so fucking good to hold him like this that Geralt almost doesn’t care how much it’s going to hurt when he has to let go.

Maybe, Geralt thinks, if he doesn’t close his eyes, if he holds perfectly still, then they can stay like this forever. Maybe he can trap them in this moment, surrounded by tipsy Pankratzes while cheesy love songs play in the background.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was a terrible idea.

~

Geralt, predictably, is an amazing boyfriend. 

He’s shy around Jaskier’s family as expected, but he converses politely whenever required and everyone is charmed to death by his dry humor. On the few occasions that Jaskier has stepped away from Geralt’s side, all anyone can say to him is how wonderful his boyfriend is, how happy they are for him. He’s heard more than a few cheeky comments about the next Pankratz to walk down the aisle with winks in his direction.

Nan was the worst out of all of them.

Jaskier felt his gut drop when he saw her make a B-line for Geralt. He loved his grandmother more than anything, but fuck knows what that woman would say. The moment his sister was satisfied with the photos they’d taken, he moved as quickly as his trousers would allow him to Geralt’s rescue.

“Perfect for my Buttercup,” she said before Jaskier could stop her. Geralt’s pale skin turned bright pink.

“I told you to leave him be, you sneaky old bat,” Jaskier scolded once they were out of earshot. Nan just cackled. 

He passed her over to an unoccupied cousin quicker than he would have if he hadn’t had Geralt to get back to, but not before she could cup his cheek and smile gently at him.

“He’s the one, Buttercup,” she told him. “Don’t let him get away.”

It’s lucky, Jaskier thinks, that he’d always been a good actor. He had to keep up the pretense of having fun for the rest of the night and every time he thought about Nan’s words, he felt like he was a thousand feet below water and sinking deeper every second.

Jaskier knew Geralt was the one. He’d known it almost since the day they met. Ten years they’d known each other and Jaskier couldn’t look at anyone else no matter how hard he tried. Geralt is it for Jaskier.

He just wishes that he could be it for Geralt.

Everyone is fooled, just like Jaskier knew they would be. Being in love with Geralt was the easy part. He did it every day of his life. A few cheek kisses and prolonged hand holding are no great tasks in comparison. The hard part is knowing that the moment they leave the wedding, these soft touches will disappear like they’d never happened at all. 

Things have died down at the reception a bit, leaving them to stand peacefully at the edge of the room. Jaskier is talking about something unimportant, some family gossip he picked up from Nan at dinner. Not even particularly good gossip. He’s talking to talk because it feels like his chest will collapse in on itself if he stills for even a second.

They’re so close, he and Geralt. Close enough that Jaskier can barely see the soft grin on Geralt’s face, just the slightest upturn of lips. He’s looking at Jaskier like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather listen to than boring Pankratz family gossip. Like Jaskier hung the moon.

Jaskier never should have suggested this. He should have come to the wedding by himself and swallowed the lectures from his parents with one too many glasses of wine the way he usually does. It would have been more bearable than this, than watching Geralt pretend to be his boyfriend, pretend to love Jaskier the way he’s always loved Geralt—

This hurts more than his mother’s sharp words or his father’s disappointed sighs ever could.

Geralt rests his hand at the small of Jaskier’s back and Jaskier wants to scream but it’s all he can do to keep breathing in and out. What would happen, he wonders, if he told Geralt he loved him right now? Would Geralt leave? Would it ruin everything? Would it be worth it?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

This was a terrible fucking idea.

~~

more fic from me

[barrioghost]

currently trying to write something short to get me through the mid-season break and made a list of all the info we have about the Funn parents up to this point, so I figured I'd post it here in case any of y'all want it (it was compiled fairly quickly so I'm sorry if it's missing things)

Mum gave Antigone her all-over outdoor suit for her 18th birthday, long deceased (1.02)

Father gave Antigone an extra sprout once at Christmas (1.03)

Father buried Seymour Prophitte’s dad (1.05)

Father put Rudyard in charge of the company (1.08)

Father couldn’t remember Antigone’s name (1.08)

Parents told Antigone to not make an exhibition of herself, “you don’t want to look a fool” (2.07)

Took Antigone and Rudyard to the circus for their birthdays (maybe just Antigone’s birthday? unclear) when they were six (2.07)

Stopped Antigone from pursuing a career as a clown (probably, she just says she was stopped, I assume they were the ones that stopped her) (2.07)

Rudyard sometimes sees their father looking rather sad and disappointed (in him) (Funn Fragments - At Home in the Dark)

Father wasn’t much better than Rudyard (Funn Fragments - At Home in the Dark)

Mum was closer to Antigone, but wasn’t really able to be close to anyone (Funn Fragments - At Home in the Dark)

Father owned a camera (Funn Fragments - The Social Rudyard)

Father wouldn’t let Antigone have balloons (3.01)

“Mum and Dad are back” is the worst possible five-word sentence the twins can think of (3.04)

Parents didn’t speak to each other very much (3.05)

Father wouldn’t let Antigone practice embalming on people so she used animals instead (Funn Fragments - Autumn Cleaning)

Rudyard made Suet Pudding for his mother 24 years ago. She didn’t want it but he refused to throw it out in case she changed her mind (Funn Fragments - Autumn Cleaning)

If told that Antigone and Rudyard were digging up bodies in the dead of night, they would be glad Antigone was leaving the house (4.01)

Father took Rudyard fishing once, used him as bait (4.01)

Mother embalmed MacGregor Sr., told Antigone to watch closely because one day she’d do the same for his son (4.01)

Mother said Antigone was see-through (4.02)

Mother told Antigone and Rudyard to keep a positive outlook (4.02)

Mother faxed the school a Dr.’s report to excuse Antigone and Rudyard from physical activity (4.03)

Mother told Rudyard to ignore his imagination to avoid disappointment (4.03)

Mother told Antigone that all seven signs of life have to have stopped before you bury someone, Father thought five was enough to get started (4.03)

Mother explained embalming to Antigone (4.03)

Mother encouraged Antigone (4.03)

Father walked Antigone and Rudyard to their first day at St. Clôt’s and dropped them off at the gate, stole Rudyard’s lunch money (4.03)

Father told the twins school never did him any harm (while gritting his teeth awfully hard and crying). Also looked scared when he saw the school (4.03)

Antigone and Rudyard like to play Happy Families bc it’s aspirational, make of that what you will about their parents (4.03)

Mother accidentally used Antigone as a broom (4.04)

[ariadne-does-her-best]

Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity. 

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[doloresdraws]

‘When I look back on my life It's so hard to face you I never wanted to fight this fight I'm ashamed of the truth No, I don't want to hurt you, baby I don't want to hurt you, baby I didn't mean to hurt you, baby

God, I'm sorry’

When I look back on my life I never wanted this fight (I don't want to hurt you baby) If I could turn back time (I don't want to hurt you baby) I would make it alright (I don't want to hurt you baby)

I love you, I love you sunshine’

Unbelievable, but I painted something new and even managed to finish it in two sittings.

Finally a proper painting of my Sabbat Nosferatu character Fox for our upcoming Sabbat game set in San Francisco. Since his story didn’t start yet I can only share something about his background.

Fox came to San Francisco from a small town in Ohio to escape a brewing unhappiness and resentment towards his mother and responsibility of caring for his two younger sisters that in his eyes slowed him down. He was tired of having to act like an adult in his family and also having to endure the looks and gossips of his classmates, because everyone knew what his mother did for a living to be able to take care of her three kids.

He had these naive dreams that living in California will bring him more and better opportunities to make good money and to live the life he often saw on tv growing up. He really wanted to become something, to prove his mother that you can get money with honest, not self-degrading work. He really hoped that he will be able to earn enough money to ensure that his sisters will never end up in the same line of work as his mother.  Of course the reality was not quite how he imagined, he struggled to find work at first, having to even spend a few nights sleeping in the park, but with his determination and eagerness to do just almost any work he was able to find various construction work and other small odd jobs to sustain his basic human needs. A lot of his colleagues were of Mexican and Venezuelan origin and through daily socializing with them he actually picked up some Spanish. He was still looking for a better, stable job but even though he often had little money to go on, he was adamant to stay clear of any criminal work. After about 6 months he was able to secure a job as the sewage treatment plant worker, it wasn’t as glorious work as he dreamed of and the surroundings were often very unpleasant, but he hid his pride and put his best efforts to do his job well. He quickly became very good at it and was even promoted, with the extra money he was able to rent a small apartment.Although far from how he imagined it, his life for the next few years was quite good, he managed to find himself a girlfriend and was planning to get marry to her, the biggest problem was that Gloria was in the US illegally, so he had to figure out how to make it happen.

Unfortunately everything changed when Fox got into an accident during his work when a gas pipe exploded and a fire had started. He was one of the few people injured, but unfortunately for Fox, he was the one who got the most severe burns that covered about 40% of his body, unfortunately also his lower half of the face, neck and hands. After this accident his life spiraled quickly, his company had friends in higher places, so instead of paying for health bills of their workers, they actually scapegoated Fox and sued him and his group of workers for the accident. He had no money for a fancy lawyer, so he lost the case, together with his medical bills his debts started piling up. His personality changed, he was angry or didn't speak at all for days. Gloria tried to help him and tried to be by his side, but he hated the fact that he could see the pity on her face whenever she looked at him. So he really started being mean to her so she would leave him alone, right now he didn't want anyone around. One day it got out of hand and he pushed her out of the door and told her never to come back, that she should get back to her Taco country or something offensive like that. He also managed to shout some Spanish insults at her, his words really hurt her as she ran away with tears.After a few days he felt really bad for breaking the things between him and Gloria in such a horrible way. He knew deep down that he needed her and wanted her by his side, even if it hurt to see how she looked at him, he knew that she was worth it. She actually never showed him where she lived before, so obviously the only places to look for her were the areas where she used to work. He hated to go outside and interact with people as they would always look at him the same, with pity and disgust, but he wanted to try to make up with Gloria. Yet when he asked in the bar the manager said that Gloria didn’t come to work in a last few days. He then went to ask around in the market she used to help and one of the women there told him that two days ago there was a police investigation and that they took a lot of people without proper papers away and that Gloria was among them.

Once again Fox felt absolutely helpless, she was probably detained and ends up deported back to Mexico and there is nothing he can do about it. He had no money, he didn’t even know where exactly she was. That night he bought a few bottles of tequila, drank as much as he could before he felt sick and threw up, which fucking hurt as all of his scars weren't fully healed yet. He hated himself, it was his fault she ended up on the street and now she is gonna end up back in Mexico with her last memories of him will be him yelling all this horrible shit to her face. He was ashamed of himself.

After this his life got even worse, now he had no emotional support, no friends, no job, painful scars that made him look like a monster. He usually spent his days staring at the ceiling, he couldn't really drink much as it was just too nasty, so he just existed for a while. His debts forced him to find work, but he couldn't do physical jobs he was used to anymore, he managed to find some odd jobs, probably because people felt bad for him which he resented. He even worked in 7/11 store, but all of his jobs were just temporary, he couldn’t keep any of them for more than for a week. It was not that his employers were unhappy with him, but Fox couldn’t just stand all the stares and pity looks he got from his employers, coworkers and customers. It didn't take long and he couldn’t keep up with the rent and when he lost the apartment, he became homeless. He could of course get back to his mother, but he actually didn't even notify neither him or his sister about his accident, he didn't want to be a burden and also he had too much pride to ever getting back to that shitty small town. All he wanted was to hide from people, to be spared of their pitiful glances and their talk about how strong he was. He wasn’t strong, he was a shitty, pathetic person who abandoned his family, resented his own mother, he failed his sisters and he treated the person that he loved as a Punchbag for his spite and insecurities, and now she will probably end up in some kind of human trafficking ring, because of him.

I will talk about his Embrace in more detail in some future post, but basically he was a shovelhead who somehow managed to get a chance to prove himself to the Sabbat. Although he loves his pack( some more than others) he still isn’t quite convinced by the Sabbat’s ideology, his biggest difficulty being the ever-present unnecessary violence, he still tries to cling to the last bits of humanity inside of him and that often leads to dissatisfaction from the Bishop and thus reflecting badly on his pack. He is torn between trying to fit in and wanting to measure up to his fellow Cainites and to do what feels right in his heart…

I am honestly very excited to finally play a Nosferatu. ❤

Fox © me/doloresdraws lyrics  ©  Hurt by Meg Myers

[emachinescat]

Mama Bear

A Tales of Arcadia Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat @whumptober2021 day 3 - Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... ("who did this to you?")

Summary: After Jim’s fight with Draal, his mom sees his bruises, and Mama Bear is unleashed. Post-Win, Lose, or Draal.

Whumpee: Jim

Words: 2,603

Note: This fic was inspired by what Barbara said in 1x13 about Jim coming home from school covered in bruises. As is my way, I took the idea and ran with it.

TW: none

Barbara Lake had always considered herself incredibly lucky that her son turned out as well as he did. It wasn’t her own doing, she was sure of that – she always did the best she could, but being a single mom meant she’d had to work extra shifts to support her small family and never felt like she was there enough.

No, Jim was just a really good kid.

Not many moms could boast that their sixteen-year-old son could cook better than they could, let alone that they made gourmet lunches and dinners (and breakfasts, on most weekends), not just willingly, but happily. And not many moms could brag that their sixteen-year-old son did the dishes or kept the house clean or put aside his own wants and dreams to take care of his overworked mother. Who got up early to leave flowers on their bedside table after a long night at work, or who tucked them in after they fell asleep on top of the covers, still in their scrubs, because they’d been too exhausted to do anything else.

Barbara tried not to brag too much about Jim. She knew that he did have a social life of his own, and as far as she could tell, he was fairly well liked at school and she didn’t want to embarrass him if any of his friends found out just how much he doted on his mother. But sometimes she couldn’t help it, and she’d find herself rambling to her beautician or the nurses at the hospital or sometimes even a long-suffering patient about how her son was one-of-a-kind. He didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t fight, didn’t skip school, and almost never missed curfew.

Until one day, he did.

It wasn’t even like it was a gradual change. There was no slow fade. She didn’t watch him slowly descend into bad grades or late nights or midnight calls about museum break-ins. There were no signs. He went to bed one day, the same as ever, and then suddenly he was getting into trouble at school, getting into fist fights, missing curfew, breaking into museums in the dead of night. Not only that but his grades – which had always been slightly higher than average – had plummeted, and he’d developed dark circles under his eyes like he never slept and sometimes he moved around like he was an eighty-year-old man and though his good nature and kind heart remained, it seemed strained at times. He still did sweet things for her, but not as often.

At first, she’d thought he was burning the proverbial candle at both ends and his lack of sleep was taking a toll on his mental and physical health. As a doctor, she’d seen firsthand what lack of sleep could do to a person. Their entire personality would change, or fizzle out, and their judgment would be severely impaired.

But then she’d seen the bruises and her sleep-loss theory flew out of the window.

***

Two weeks ago

Barbara thought boundaries and independence were a valuable part of a child’s development, so she always knocked before she entered Jim’s room. Of course, if he were gone, she wouldn’t bother.

On this particular day – one of her rare days off – she was sure he wasn’t home. She hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t seen his bike propped up against the side of the house or in the garage. The container of store-bought chocolate chip cookies (she had neither the time nor skill to bake them herself) she’d left out for him hadn’t been touched. For all appearances, Jim hadn’t gotten home from school yet.

And so, she didn’t knock as she approached his bedroom door with a laundry basket propped on her hip. Jim always did his own laundry, but she’d seen how tired and overworked he’d been lately and wanted to ease his burden however she could.

The sight that greeted her when she nudged open the door and flipped on the light was one that would stick with her, tattooed onto her mind’s eye, for the rest of her life.

Jim was asleep on top of his unmade bed. It looked like he’d gotten halfway undressed and then decided to forgo comfort for sleep, and lay on his stomach in only his jeans. One shoe was on, the other halfway under the bed. But what arrested her attention so violently was the great rainbow of bruises arching across his back and stretched around his side, disappearing beneath his stomach where he lay on the bed.

She couldn’t help herself. A horrified shriek escaped her, and Jim sprung up so quickly it made her head spin. The panicked look in his eyes did not escape her notice, nor did the way he made a desperate reach for his pocket, like he was trying to grab something – trying to defend himself? When he saw who was in his room, and that they were alone, and that there was no danger, the raw fear faded, though a hint of panic remained.

“Mom!” he squawked, crossing his arms across his chest like that would be enough to hide the dizzying array of green, purple, yellow, and black that blanketed his chest. She noticed with surprise the lean muscles of his arms. Jim had always been fit, but never strong. He’d never said anything about a gym and he’d never been serious about sports, but she filed this information away for later and focused on the problem at hand.

Her stomach twisted as her doctor’s eyes traveled slowly, deliberately down her son’s bare torso. The bruises were worse on his stomach and chest, something she hadn’t thought possible, and she realized with horror that some of them were days, maybe weeks, older than others. This – whatever this was – was not an isolated incident.

Rage like she’d never felt before, like the protective energy of all mothers who had come before her collected into one finely-honed sword, pierced her soul as she came to the only conclusion that made any logical sense: Someone had done this to her son.

When she spoke, she barely recognized her own voice, cold as the furthest depth of the ocean, shaking with unmitigated fury.

“Who did this to you?”

Jim’s answer didn’t surprise her, but she also didn’t believe it for a second. “No one. It… was an accident.” She watched, lips crammed together in an impossibly thin line, teeth grinding against one another, her hands trembling with a righteous anger she had no outlet for, as Jim slowly reached out for the shirt he’d left in a heap at the end of the bed, the other arm still wrapped protectively around his torso. She didn’t stop him. She would absolutely be examining his injuries fully before the evening was done, but for now, she’d seen enough. The sight of her son’s bruised flesh would burn in her memory forever, more clearly than when she saw it right in front of her.

Skittishly, like a cat caught sniffing around back alley garbage cans, he snatched up the shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head. He couldn’t hide the flinch as he raised his arms to pull the fabric over his head. As he did so, she got the full view of his torso, and the wild, impossible thought flitted through her mind that it almost looked like some giant hand had wrapped around his body and squeezed. The image, however nonsensical, sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Her anger swelled again, and the crest of it burst forth, no longer containable, and the only person she could release it on was the one who was actively lying to her.

“James Lake, Jr. – do you think I’m an idiot?!”

Jim froze, his hands stilling completely as he adjusted the neck of his tee. He had never heard his mother direct such cold fury at anyone, let alone himself. “W-what? Of course not, Mom. I just–”

“You expect me to believe that you accidentally hurt yourself this badly? That you woke up one morning and you were covered in bruises? Jim, I’m a doctor. I see people come in for less than this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have fractured ribs.” Now the anger was giving way to panic. “And don’t think that I haven’t noticed that some bruises are newer than others. This isn’t something that just ‘happened’ and it’s not an accident. So tell me. Who – the – hell – did this to my son?”

A small, ridiculous surge of satisfaction bubbled up inside of her as she watched Jim’s mouth fall open. He’d never heard his mother utter a word stronger than darn before. She’d always been very careful about the language she used in front of him. But his condition released something feral inside of her, and it was honestly a bit of a shock that nothing stronger came out.

She watched his face, saw the conflict in his eyes, knew with even more surety that he was hiding something big from her and trying to decide if he was going to answer truthfully. Well, tough luck. He wasn’t leaving his bedroom until he answered her question.

He must have seen this in her eyes, for after a moment, he dropped his gaze. Heavily, he sat down on the foot of his bed and stared down at his hands. “Mom, I… can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

At this, the fear took center stage again, and Barbara fell to her knees in front of her son, cupping his face in her hands. The tears she’d been holding back with such determination threatened to fall at the way he unconsciously leaned into her touch. His eyes closed briefly, and for a moment he was a child again, sniffling from a scraped knee and being comforted by his mother. That moment ended all too quickly, because his scraped knee was actually a bruised and battered torso, and he wasn’t a child anymore, and he was in trouble.

“Jim. Whatever is going on, I promise, I won’t be angry. But someone is hurting you. You can’t deny that. What is happening to my son?” She tried not to speculate – dared not speculate – but so many possibilities chased themselves through her head, each one worse than the last. Bullies? Abusive teacher? Drugs?

He sat for a moment, a slumped, defeated statue with too much weight on his young shoulders – Young Atlas, Walter’s voice echoed in her mind. She saw the exact moment when he made his decision. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and met her eyes once more. Something brewed within those beautiful blue depths, but what it was she couldn’t say. Was it regret? Guilt? Fear?

“It really was an accident,” he finally said, voice slow and measured.

“Jim, really–!”

“I’m telling the truth, Mom!” he insisted so fervently that she was tempted to believe him. Almost.

“Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?” she demanded. “What kind of ‘accident’–”

“A Vespa one,” Jim blurted, and his eyes flickered down to his hands in shame. “I… a friend gave me a ride on his Vespa. I was on the back and got thrown off and rolled halfway down the embankment before a tree caught me right in the ribs.”

Fresh panic wormed its way into Barbara’s mind at Jim’s confession. As horrible as it was, part of her desperately wanted to believe him. If he had been in a vehicle accident, then no one had been deliberately hurting her child. It was just his own irresponsibility and stupidity.

“When did this happen?”

A beat. Then, sheepishly, “... yesterday.”

But – “What about the older bruises, Jim? Did you get into two Vespa accidents?”

“Paintball,” Jim answered without missing a beat. “We had a whole thing a few months back. Guys versus girls. And I got hit. A lot.”

Barbara recalled clearly the size and location of the older bruises that had peeked out from underneath the fresh, reaching ones. They could have easily been from punches or kicks, but it was feasible that the bruises could have come from being shot at close-range by a paintball gun.

Deep down, something still nagged at her. But Jim’s explanation was a siren’s call and she was so tired of swimming.

“Do you promise me you’re telling the truth?” The gaze she fixed on him one would have withered a succulent.

Without hesitation, Jim answered, his voice clear, strong, and insistent. “Yes.”

Relief flooded through her, and she squashed the last remaining doubts, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “In that case, you are grounded.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “What, really? You promised you wouldn’t be angry!?”

“I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. Let’s see, you know how I feel about both paintball and those Vespas and yet you went behind my back and nearly got yourself killed. You’ve been lying to me, Jim, keeping secrets. Is this why you’ve not been sleeping? Why you’ve been so distant?” It didn’t explain why he’d been getting into more trouble than usual, but right now she would take what she could get.

The slightest of hesitations. “Yeah.”

She considered, eyes burning into him, for a long moment, then she sighed, the sound of every evil thing escaping Pandora’s box, and she clapped her hands together briskly. “Okay, come on.”

Jim cocked his head to the side. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital.”

Jim groaned. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just bruised.”

“I’m not taking any chances, mister. You could have fractured ribs. You should have been rushed to the hospital as soon as the accident happened. Who is this friend, anyway? Why didn’t he take you to the E.R.?”

Jim scratched the side of his neck. “You wouldn’t know him,” he evaded, and Barbara made a promise to herself to revisit this point later. “And we were afraid we’d get into trouble…”

“Well, you did, kiddo. Now, get up. We’re going to the hospital, you’re getting x-rays, and then we’re getting ice cream.”

Jim blinked up at her. She wondered if he realized his arm was curled protectively around his ribs as he slowly eased himself off the bed. “Ice cream? I thought I was grounded.”

“You’re hurt, Jim, and I’m your mother. I’m not a monster.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of Jim’s mouth at her words, and not wanting him to get too comfortable, she added, “You are grounded, though. Absolutely. You’re not going anywhere after school for at least two weeks. And depending on the x-rays, you might not be leaving your bed for a while, either.”

“Mooom.”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me. Now, put your other shoe on. Let’s hussle. I want you looked at as soon as possible.”

What she didn’t see as she turned to leave the room was the heavy curtain of guilt being drawn over Jim’s face.

Later, she’d drive him home with a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and deep bruising across 80 percent of his torso and a bottle of muscle relaxers for the pain. They’d get ice cream and he would mope about bedrest and she would try to cheer him up (but not too much; he was still grounded, after all). But behind the pain of his injuries lurked a deeper, fierer ache that no balm could soothe, no medication could ease.

With every lie, he could feel the chasm widen between him and his mother, and it hurt more than a few broken ribs and bruises ever could.

[forevfangirlwrites]

hiiii, soooo I have a prompt for a couple of weeks for the actress Au but I don't want to write it because you probably have many, but anyway I tell you so I get rid of it

Basically I got this weird idea where Percy and Annabeth get into a situation where some fans have posted an old picture of Annabeth and her ex (cof Luke cof) and Percy who has never seen that photo panics ( because the boy iscrazy in love with her) and makes all these senseless ideas until Annabeth reassures him and at that moment Percy lets it slip that he has always had this fear that she could choose someone else because he is just a barista and so nothing special

obviously you don't have to I had to free myself, I hope you have a nice day ♥️ (if there are mistakes and google's fault English is not my first language I did my best 😫)

Percy has never really been into traditional social media all that much. Not because he hates it or anything, but because he’s never been able to look good in Instagram photos (he needs a someone to teach him how to pose, like seriously what do you do with your hands?)

Plus, he gets most of his news and stuff through Reddit rather than Twitter.

That said though, he has every social media platform on his phone with notifications on for the one and only Annabeth Chase.

It might seem extra, but he just calls it being a supportive boyfriend.

But the way the algorithm on these apps work means that he sometimes gets notifications for tweets other than Annabeth’s simply because they are about her.

So when his phone buzzes with a tweet from annabanana2 that just reads: They’re so cute together! he has a momentary panic.

And of course, it has to be a busy day. He hurries to try to finish the caramel mocha as quickly as possible so he can open up the tweet as a million possibilities run through his head.

The biggest one being that someone had found out about their relationship.

He hands off the mocha and swipes up on the notification.

Never mind, this is worse than being found out.

It’s a picture of Annabeth hand in hand with a guy who he vaguely recognizes, with a wide smile on her face. But before he can really look into it, the door dings, signaling another customer.

Trying to push aside panic and summon midwestern newscaster, he turns to the girl at the counter.

“Welcome to Cali’s, what can I get you?”

“Hi, um, I’ll take the…” she trails off, looking at the menu.

His fingers itch to check his phone again, to put a name to the face of the guy he’s definitely seen before.

“How’s the French vanilla macchiato?”

Maybe in a TV show? “Huh?”

The girl turns her gaze to him and he flushes, embarrassed at his inattention as he apologizes.

“Sorry, I got distracted, what did you ask?”

He tells her the French vanilla macchiato is a good choice and proceeds to make it for her, all the while trying to resist the urge to check his phone.

The happy smile on her face is burned into his mind. But he tries to focus on trying to place the guy because it’s much less painful to think about.

“Here you go,” he calls as he pushes the drink across the counter, already pulling out his phone.

“Uh...could you give me a straw?”

He flushes again. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, here you go.”

The girl waves it off, thankfully looking more amused than annoyed. As she turns to leave, he swipes open to the photo again.

“Do you—” he cuts himself off, brain finally catching up to his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that, but she’s already turning around with a questioning look.

Well, he’s in this far and she seems nice to hopefully she won’t mind. “Do you know who this is?”

He holds up his phone and she steps forward to take a look.

“Annabeth Chase?”

“Yeah, but who’s the guy?”

“Luke Castellan.”

Recognition floods his brain at the name.

“From The Titans! I knew I remembered him from something!”

The girl smiles, taking a sip of her drink. “Yep, they dated a couple years ago.”

His mind goes blank. “What?”

The girl nods. “Annabeth and Luke, they dated for a while. I guess the tweet is from the people who still think they’re together. They had a pretty amicable break-up.”

This girl is a treasure trove of knowledge and has just saved him ten minutes of Googling.

“Oh, I didn’t know…” It’s a lot of information to process.

She just shrugs. “I used to be super into Titans which is why I know. Anyway, have a good day!”

“You too! Thanks!” He calls after her, knowing his day is now far from good.

The replies under the tweet just echo the original, confirming that they are indeed a cute couple, and go well together.

They have to still be together, she hasn’t dated anyone since one reply so helpfully reads.

His stomach sinks further.

She does look happy in the photo, free and smiling, no need to hide anything cause she’s dating some measly barista.

His stomach sinks even further. Maybe she is better off with Luke.

The thoughts don’t leave his head the rest of his shift.

He was going to meet Annabeth on set today after work, but when he pulls off his apron, he finds himself heading towards home instead. The set is just another reminder of everything she deserves and everything he isn’t.

So he trudges to his shitty one-bedroom apartment and sits on the secondhand couch, mood sinking lower and lower by the second.

The TV is a blessing and a curse, so after flipping through shows that have very attractive people who’d make better partners to an actress than him, he stops on some Bob Ross reruns.

They help, calming him enough that he starts to doze off.

The knock on his door, however, startles him out of it and he sits up in a rush as the knock pounds again.

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A/N: Hello! I’m so sorry it took me such a long time to get to this prompt! I hope you liked how it turned out! The prompt was a great way to revisit the past in this series! Thank you for the prompt!

[azucanela]

So i have a phrase “How do I look? Do I look okay?” “You look beautiful... you are beautiful.” with Kirishima, Shinsou, Todoroki and Keigo? Is it okay to ask for something like this? If it's not feel free to ignore🙈

DIALOGUE PROMPT SCENARIOS [ft. keigo takami, kirishima ejirou, shinsou hitoshi, todoroki shouto]

SUMMARY: Y/N wonders if she looks okay, not that she could ever look bad.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: kissing, insecurities, thats it though

A/N: that’s perfectly fine bb <3 but you didn’t specify scenarios or headcannons but scenarios felt more appropriate so here we are

KEIGO TAKAMI | PRO HERO HAWKS

Staring at herself in the mirror, Y/N found herself despising her job as a Pro Hero, mostly because of all the extra things that came with it. She’d gone to UA High School to learn how to save lives, and Y/N had learnt just that. Nobody prepared her for the interviews and the galas and the publicity that came with the job, especially if you were successful. The social aspect that nobody discussed was the worst part of the job, the random reporters photographing her as she went about her day, the brutal comments in regards to basically everything.

Seeing as she ranked in the Top 5 Pro Heroes, Y/N considered that successful, and the fact that her boyfriend was Number 2 Hero Hawks, well that didn’t necessarily help. There was a ridiculous amount of attention focused on them individually, but as a couple? Y/N L/N and Takami Keigo were viewed as a potential power couple to the public, they had yet to confirm their relationship, though Y/N had a feeling that their appearance together at the gala that night would confirm the suspicions the public had.

That would likely be catastrophic. 

Sighing, Y/N smoothed down her red dress, the color matched Keigo’s wings, something she’d requested specifically. It was a subtle hint to their relationship, something for her, Keigo, and both their publicists, seeing as the announcement of a relationship between two top heroes would likely only benefit them. Now, Y/N wondered if it was too much, eyes scrutinizing every inch of her look the same way she knew dozens of magazines, reporters and posts would do the moment she stepped out onto the red carpet.

She was distracted by Keigo’s entrance into their shared room, moving past her quickly to snatch his red tie off a dresser, he moved to fasten it around his collar. Y/N found herself reminded of the fact that he was considered a very fast paced hero as she watched him, a small smile finding its way onto her face. He opens his mouth to speak, only to pause when he turns to her, and Y/N can’t help but squirm under his gaze.

“How do I look? Do I look okay?” There are about a dozen thoughts running through her mind as he practically stares her down, maybe he doesn’t like the color, maybe she looks bad, maybe this was a mistake. 

Instead, a smile breaks out on Keigo’s face as he tilts his head dopily, “you look beautiful...” He responds, hand coming to hold her cheek as he leaned forward, “you are beautiful.” 

“Thank you, baby.” She’s smiling too now, leaning her face into his hands as she brings her arms to wrap around his shoulders.

Keigo pressed his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “you’re wearing my color.” His mouth moved to press against her jaw as Y/N hummed in response, hand coming to grip his hair tightly as she watched his wings flutter slightly. 

There’s a grin on Y/N’s lips as she tilts her head further back and responds, “yeah, I am.” Raising a brow she asked, “you like it?”

“I love it.”

KIRISHIMA EJIROU 

Kirishima finds himself smiling as he knocks on Y/N’s door. They were going to meet his for dinner, and it would be Y/N’s first time meeting them, something she had been stressed about for the past week since he’d told her. Though Kirishima wasn’t necessarily worried if he was honest, seeing how often he talked about Y/N, he wouldn’t be shocked if his parents felt like they already knew her.

Y/N on the other hand, was panicking. This would be her first time meeting her long term boyfriend’s parents, meeting the parents meant a lot of things. First off, Kirishima expected her to be in his life for an extended period of time, and he trusted her enough to introduce her to his parents. Secondly, it meant she had to make a good impression, though their approval didn’t mean everything it was important to both her and Kirishima if she wanted to continue being in a serious relationship with him.

Upon hearing the knock at her door, Y/N found herself grimacing as she looked into the mirror once more before making her way to the door. Unlocking it, Y/N opened the door for her boyfriend before rushing over to her dresser and taking the earrings on top to put them on. “Hey, sorry I’m not ready I just-” She inhaled deeply, turning to him as she fixed the earrings, “I really want this to go well.” Y/N returns her gaze to the mirror for a final look at herself, frowning when she realizes Kirishima has yet to speak, “How do I look? Do I look okay?”

Kirishima’s mouth has gaped open as he looks to her, eyes trailing over her outfit as he nods rapidly, “you look beautiful!” He exclaims, bringing his hands to her arms as he beams at her, “you are beautiful.” His voice quiets as he says these words, the look in his eyes soft. 

Y/N’s cheeks warm at her words, nodding slowly in response, “great. Great. We should go.” She mumbled, a small smile on her face.

But Kirishima’s hands remain on her arms, keeping her in her spot as he says, “you are amazing Y/N, and they are going to love you, okay?” When she doesn’t respond, Kirishima brings a hand to her chin, forcing her to look at him as he repeats, “okay?”

Y/N bites her lip as she nods, “okay.” A shaky breath escapes her as she leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips, temporarily catching him by surprise as her hands come to rest on his chest. Kirishima recovers quickly, pulling her face closer with the hand gripping her chin as his other hand comes to her waist. 

When Y/N pulls away, she wraps her arms around his torso and places her head on his chest, “thank you, Kiri.”

He simply smiles at her, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and rocking them side to side, earning a laugh from her as he says, “of course, Baby.”

SHINSOU HITOSHI

Sighing, Shinsou runs a hand through his hair as he sits on the couch, awaiting Y/N’s great reveal. She’d insisted that he stop working so that she could show hims something, though it took a lot of convincing, she’d managed to get him on the couch. If Y/N was honest, this was a last ditch attempt to get Shinsou to stop overworking himself, he had already done so much to get into the Hero Course and he needed a break. Now she was searching for something, anything that could be considered relevant enough for her to pull him away from his work and force him onto the couch. At this point just hoped he was eating the food she’d left behind for while he waited. 

Tearing through her room, Y/N groaned, moving to her closet when she realized she had nothing interesting to show him, after all, he’d seen everything in her room dozens of times. Her closet on the other hand? There were dozens of things she had yet to wear. 

Y/N found herself glaring at the dress she’d bought months ago, she’d thought it was gorgeous but there weren’t many opportunities for her to wear it, and even if she could, Y/N couldn’t help but feel nervous at the possibility. What if it looked bad? She never tried it on, so this would be a surprise for not just her, but also Shinsou. Y/N couldn’t help but scowl as she snatched it off the hanger.

Meanwhile, Shinsou finds himself eating the bowl of fruit Y/N had left behind, he couldn’t help but wonder what she had to show him that was taking so long to prepare, but he didn’t mind. Though Shinsou would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered getting up to check on her. 

He’s about to call out her name when she exclaims, “you ready?”

There’s a soft smile on his face as he places the bowl of fruit down on the coffee table before him and leans back against the couch, “I always am, kitten.” Comes his response.

Shinsou was wrong. He was not ready for what Y/N was showing him. 

She’d moved into his line of sight to reveal a black dress that he’d never seen her wear before, and to put it simply, he was kind of upset that she hadn’t. Shinsou is grappling for words as his mouth opens and closes in shock, eyes trailing of Y/N.

“How do I look? Do I look okay?” Y/N asked, his lack of response hadn’t been reassuring, but at least he had eaten some of the fruit she had left for him. Spinning in a circle, Y/N let out a nervous laugh as she looked to him.

Shinsou nodded slowly, “you look beautiful...” He assured, a small smile making its way onto his face, “you are beautiful.” Y/N found her cheeks warming at his words as she moved over to him, falling into his lap with a smile.

“You’re too nice to me, Toshi.” 

She can see the faint blush in his cheeks as he wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her neck in an attempt to hide it, “it’s the truth.” 

Y/N simply hums in response as she runs a hand through his hair, leaning her neck further back when he begins to press small kisses against it, “so what do you want for dinner? You’ve barely eaten all day.”

“Pizza?”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Shouto didn’t know how long he’d been sitting on Y/N’s bed, but it had been a while, a long while. It was their anniversary and he had insisted on using Endeavor’s shiny black credit card to the fullest, much to her dismay. Y/N had never liked when Shouto spent an excessive amount of money on her, but he didn’t seem to care. They’d gone out earlier and if Y/N so much as looked at something for more than a few moments, Shouto was already taking it to the cash register, card in hand.

Now, she was trying on a dress they’d bought earlier that day, and seeing as they had a reservation at some fancy restaurant Y/N had discovered in the next hour, Y/N was taking her time to get ready. Not that Shouto minded how long she was taking, especially since the restaurant was supposed to be booked until the following year, until he dropped his name that is. He sincerely doubted they’d mind if they were late.

Y/N was, of course, panicking. It was a really fancy restaurant and when she’d off handedly mentioned how good the food seemed, she didn’t expect Shouto to get them a reservation. Much less take her shopping beforehand. Stepping outside of the bathroom with the black dress she’d selected, Y/N found herself incapable of preventing the insecurities from flooding her mind when she saw Shouto look up from his phone. 

He set his phone to the side when he saw her, and Y/N finds herself looking away as she mumbles, “how do I look? Do I look okay?”

There’s a small smile on Shouto’s face as he gives her a small nod, “you look beautiful.” His eyes are analyzing her entire figure as he extends a hand, gesturing for her to come closer, and Y/N moves into his arms, hands gripping his shoulders as he continues, “you are beautiful.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks warm at Shouto’s words as his hands come to her hips and pull her between his spread legs, “you’re too kind to me Shouto.” Y/N’s hand comes to his cheek as she smiles nervously at him.

Shouto simply shakes his head, “I don’t deserve you.” His voice is quiet as speaks, looking to her in awe.

She simply swats gently his shoulder, “don’t say that.” Y/N grumbles, frowning at him as she leans down to rest her forehead on his, “you deserve everything.”

Shouto is silent when leans backwards and pulls her down with him, determined to make her smile once more, he finds himself grinning as she bursts out into laughter on top of him before capturing her lips. 

“We’re gonna be late, Shouto.” She mumbles, removing her lips from his and burying her head in his neck as she sighed.

He simply hums in response, arms circling her waist, “I doubt they’ll mind.”

A/N: these were fun to write :D also wow im NOT posting at 2AM? whaaa so weird.

TAGLISTS[lmk if you want to be added via askbox or replies]

BNHA: @shawkneecaps

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Three

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Apologies again for how long this has taken to write, life has been absolutely manic the last couple of weeks. As always, I hope you enjoy this and feedback is gratefully received.

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 He’s pinning me down against the bed, leaning over me. His hands are everywhere, touching and caressing me wherever he can reach and his mouth is on my neck, sucking a patch of skin to mark me.

My hands are in his hair and I’m tugging at it to get him to look at me, so that I can connect our mouths again, but when I pull his face to mine, it isn’t Ben anymore. It’s Rory.

I wake up from the fantasy in a cold sweat, my bed sheet stuck to my slick back and my pyjama top crumpled. I put my head into my hands and sob quietly. I’m not crying because I’ve had some sex dream about a footballer that snogged me. I’m crying because once again, I*’m thinking about my ex boyfriend and it’s becoming obsessive.

I sit up in bed and find myself checking his social media. His facebook has him check in to some fancy hotel in the Cotswolds with his girlfriend. They had met not long after we broke up. In fact, the gap between us breaking up and them supposedly meeting was so slim that it made me wonder if he had been talking to her before we called it quits. I had no proof of that of course, but that didn’t make me feel any better about any of it. I imagined the two of them sharing a bed together in their hotel room, enjoying the comfort of sleeping next to someone. It had been so long that I barely remembered what that felt like. 

I almost texted Bri, she would have been happy to talk even if I woke her, but I wasn’t quite ready to share what I had been thinking about recently. It would be hypocritical of Bri to judge me for thinking about Rory when all she went on about at the moment was making her ex jealous. That made me think of Billy and how much he liked her. I had this awful feeling that if he did ask Bri out that she would use it as an opportunity and not give him a fair chance. Billy did not deserve to be used like that. 

I ran my fingers through my damp hair and collected it into a ponytail, tying it with the band that I had kept around my wrist since letting my hair down before bed. I had this weird habit that whenever I was feeling stressed, needed to really concentrate on something or make a decision, I would always tie my hair up. Rory had always thought it was nuts. I had noticed from their instagram pictures that his girlfriend never really wore her hair up. I always called her that, his girlfriend because giving her a name would make her feel real, and maybe there was a part of me that didn’t want her to be real and still clung onto the idea that we were just on a break, exploring our careers and travelling only to come back together again, get married and have three kids and a dog. 

My parents had tried really hard to hide their devastation when I told them about the break up, telling me that there were plenty more fish in the sea and that the timing just wasn’t right for me to meet someone. They had then of course both reminisced about their university partners which had led to a row when my dad spoke about his university girlfriend Mandy a little bit too fondly. 

I stared down at my phone, deciding that I needed a distraction, and the best distraction was work. I logged out of my own instagram account and clicked on the first saved profile in my list. It was the player that I had been posting for the other day before Billy had his accident. I checked his recent posts and likes and nothing seemed to be out of place, except perhaps for the fact that it was around 3am and he was getting regular messages, the name Sam appearing on my screen once again.  By this point in my maddened, ex-stalking state I will admit that I was curious. I clicked the icon that took me to his inbox and began to read. 

They were conversing about his impending separation from his wife and about how they couldn’t wait to be together. I felt like throwing up in my mouth that one of the players that I worked with would behave like that, although I hadn’t really met this player in particular. His name was Jorginho and he was known as somewhat of a joker.  I kept out of his way for that very reason, not being a big fan of practical jokes and pranks.

I was about to close his inbox when another message came in.

What do we do about Ben?

I blinked and re-read the message several times. Ben? 

What on earth could Ben have to do with Jorginho cheating on his wife and leaving her for this woman, I wondered.

I clicked on her profile then and scrolled back through her pictures. She was a stunning brunette and her posts were mainly bikini pictures with the odd paid promotion thrown in here and there. I scrolled until a picture stopped me dead in my tracks. It was a picture of her with Ben, both smiling into the camera, their arms around each other and a caption that read ‘my everything’.

There were a few more pictures of them together and it was very evident that she had once been Ben’s girlfriend. At first I felt a bit numb, then I felt a pang of jealousy, and then I felt angry that she was conducting an affair with one of his team mates right under his nose and probably planning on lying to him about it.

I didn’t know what to do with this information.

He never has to know. I’m spending one more season here then my contract expires and we can go anywhere. 

I read his response, that confirmed what I feared. They were going to sneak around and hide this from Ben, probably until the divorce was finalised and then they would disappear off to another country and Ben would be left to read about it in the press. Unless i did something about it. 

 --------------------------------------------------------------

I had a meeting with Marina this morning. She commented that I seemed really distracted and I commented that I needed content other than Mason Mount to post onto social media. Marina had laughed and said that he was increasing our social media engagement and that we had new fans and shirt sales as a result of his appeal. I muttered something rude under my breath about what I thought about his appeal.

Marina and I had a really good working relationship and could banter with each other whilst still acting professionally and having a great deal of respect.

We had decided that I could capture my own content for our social media whenever I liked and would be provided with equipment such as a camera to enable me to. I had agreed to this to get me out of just posting Mason, but it did mean extra work for me, doubling up on the job of the club photographer and that I would need to spend more time outside on the pitches with the players, something I wasn’t sure I particularly fancied doing.

I hadn’t spoken to Ben since he kissed me, and now I felt even worse about it because I had been thinking about Rory, and had discovered that his ex and his team mate were sleeping together.

It was only the first of September, but I had started thinking about content for Halloween and maybe even thanks giving as we now had an American player at the club. 

I was just messing around with different shades of orange in photoshop when there was a knock on my office door. 

I got up from my desk slowly, silently praying that it wouldn’t be Ben because I couldn’t face him without blurting out the secret. 

Instead I had the displeasure of opening the door to find Mason Mount stood there.

“What do you want?” I sighed. 

“God you are sunshine and rainbows this morning. You look like you haven’t slept.” he said grinning. He was trying to make me laugh by jokingly insulting me and then cupped my face with his hands and started to stroke beneath my eyes with his thumbs. I was about to ask him what the bloody hell he was doing when he said “just smoothing out the wrinkles”. 

I shook him off and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. 

I let him in then rather than the two of us just standing in the door way. He walked over to my desk and perched on the end exactly like Ben had done before he had kissed me. Except surely Mason wasn’t going to do that.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, trying my best to be polite to him. He had tried after all to make me laugh. It wasn’t his fault that I was so worried about everyone and everything else going on around here.

“I have a bit of a problem. My girlfriend is in this girl band and they are doing a music video next week that she wants me to be in so that they can get more views. The thing is, I’m not sure it really fits with my brand.” he explained, looking down at his shoes and the carpet, his eyes darting back up to me every few seconds while I considered a response. 

“Well footballers have been in music videos before without it affecting any of their sponsorship or brand deals.” I responded, thinking about the music video Fernando Torres had been in for a spanish band years ago. 

“Maybe it’s not my image i’m necessarily worried about. I feel a bit used but don’t know how to tell her.” as he spoke he looked vulnerable for the first time and the cheekiness was all gone. 

“So if I’m getting this right, they’re a band kind of breaking through and you being in the video would get them a lot of views and might get them really famous. Don’t you want your girlfriend to be successful?” as I asked him, he looked thoughtful, and then sad.

“I don’t really want to be with someone that now only wants me because I’m famous, and wants to leech fame from me.” he shrugged. 

I remembered the rant I had at him about how privileged he was for being rich and famous at such a young age, but I now started to consider that it must come with some drawbacks like not knowing if the people closest to you actually like you for who you are or if they want to use you for fame and fortune. 

“Well if you like, if they ask us for permission I will say no and that i need you for one of our campaigns whenever it is scheduled for and that it’s non negotiable because the club pays your wages.” He grinned and hopped off the edge of the desk. 

He made to step towards me but I held out my hand to stop him.

“No need to thank me.” 

He nodded and proceeded to head towards my office door. I stopped him just before he grabbed the handle by saying “Can I give you some advice? I don’ think that you should be with someone like that either.”

Without turning back to me, he sighed and responded “I don’t think that you should be with someone like Ben Chilwell”.

Before I could say anything else in response he opened the door and left

 ------------------------------------------------------

By lunchtime my brain was completely scrambled. I had busied myself with my idea for a thanksgiving tribute to Christian Pulisic the American player and planned special catering for the day to include a full turkey dinner in the canteen for him. That would of course give me the perfect opportunity for a post about how we are so thankful for him and want to make him feel at home. Marina would love it. 

I thought about hiding in my office until everyone returned to their jobs or their training and then going to the canteen, but I knew if I did that there would surely be no food left.

I was just loading my tray up with small items from the tapas menu when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Looking over it, I saw that it was Billy. His smile was 50-watt and could light up any room.

“Hey Billy, are you okay?” I asked him.

“Oh yes.” he nodded. “I’ve got a plan to ask ye friend out. Wanted to run it by you if you’re free?” 

I looked around and most of the tables were free so I agreed and said we could sit together and talk about it over lunch and that maybe Bri would join us if there wasn’t some kit emergency keeping her away. He smiled at that.

We sat down at a table by the window, a nice amount of sunshine came through it which warmed my back and the back of my neck nicely.

Billy went off immediately into explaining his plan to ask Bri out. He was going to have one of the lads accidentally rip his training shirt during the morning session so that he would have an excuse to go and see her.

“Hang on - tell me what day you’re planning this and I can distract her dad for a bit.” I interjected.

“Already got that covered sweetheart. He’s on a conference all of next week!” he grinned.

I looked puzzled and he laughed at the expression I was pulling. What kind of conference would a kit man need to go to? Were they brining out a new range or under armor or something like that?

“I know it sounds mad.” 

“It doesn’t just sound mad, it sounds like a good opportunity, go on.”I encouraged him.

He was going to fill one of the old unused offices with flowers and somehow convince Bri that she needed to follow him there so that he could ask her. It was so sweet and completely something that Bri would go for so I told him that his plan sounded brilliant and that I would help him in any way possible.

“I’m going to get her thinking about you in preparation you know.” I said, showing Billy a freshly edited picture of him on my phone screen that I was planning on posting that afternoon when I got back to my desk. “This beauty is going on all our social media pages. By the way, why did you never tell me that you used to model?”

He blushed bright scarlet when I brought up his modelling career and then we both descended into fits of laughter over it.

“You’re a really good friend, you know” he smiled. “If I can call you that.”

“Of course I’m your friend Billy.” I agreed.

“Well seeing as we are now best pals, do ye want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked.

I gulped, my mouth and throat suddenly feeling dry and uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell him what I had learnt about Jorginho, but maybe I could at least be honest about Rory.

“I had a really bad break up about a year ago and it’s still bothering me. Just you know, seeing other people happy and wondering what could have been.” I shrugged, trying to seem not fussed. I was bothered though and talking about it made the pain in my chest when I thought about him that little bit worse. I felt tears threatening to form.

Billy put his hand over mine and squeezed it.

“If you’re still following him or still friends on facebook, you need to delete him so that you can move on. Do you want me to do it for you?” he offered, holding his hand out to me for my phone.

Billy was right, I needed to let go of the part of me that still missed Rory, the part that felt jealous every time I saw what he was up to, and I could never get over that while it was accessible to me. 

I gave Billy my phone and told him Rory’s social media names even though he was the top person in all of my search history.

“Oh Katie, I’m sorry. It can’t have been nice to see him announce his engagement on here.” he said sympathetically.

It took a second for my brain and heart to catch up with each other and I felt sick to my stomach as I ask him to repeat himself.

I hadn’t heard him wrong and he showed me the post. I must have missed it by being so preoccupied with Ben’s situation. He had taken her to that fancy hotel in the Cotswolds to propose to her. Their grinning faces staring back at me from the picture didn’t feel like people I knew anymore.

“That’s that then. The end of that chapter of my life, officially.” I scraped my hair back and tied it up quickly.

“He’s gone from your virtual life too now.” Billy said, passing the phone back to me. 

“Thank you.” I said quietly. 

It’s hard to describe how you feel the second your hope for something shatters. The reality was that Rory was never going to realise that he had made a mistake and come back to me, because the reality was that we weren’t the same people we had been when we had first met at university and we had genuinely drifted apart. I could point the finger and blame him for possibly cheating, sure, but what good would that do me? Truth is we weren’t meant to be together and he hadn’t made a mistake. He had done the right thing to lead him to the person that he was supposed to be with. I just wished that I didn’t feel this way. I was sure that if I had moved on and met someone else my reaction would have been different. I might even have congratulated him. 

That evening I went home and cracked open a bottle of wine, and once I reached the bottom of it I cried myself to sleep.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic, Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, MINORS BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: This chapter is angsty as fuck and there’s quite a lot of references to death. Aizawa wishes he was dead etc

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 14/16 (all chapters)

15-ISH YEARS AGO

KREEK

KREEK

Shouta stretched his hand upwards and grabbed onto the fabric, using his legs and fist to get a firm hold before climbing higher. His hands were bandaged and worn, the capture device stained with blood, but he pushed himself harder and faster, grimacing at the friction against his broken skin.

It ended as it always did. He stretched too high and the hand he had used to secure his weight buckled under the strain. He lost his grip and plummeted to the safety mats piled across the floor, the capture device slipping from his hands.

Hizashi winced at the sound of his body hitting the mats. He knew they were designed to break falls, but had used them often enough himself to know how much they still hurt.

Shouta repositioned himself at his original starting position and reached for the fabric, the same determined expression across his face that he always wore, no matter how many times he landed on his face.

KREEK

KREEK

Hizashi watched as he took hold of the fabric and tightened his grip before reaching higher, slower this time, a telltale sign that he had cut his hand again. He sipped his soda, taking in the sweat that layered Shouta’s forehead, the blood on his lips from where he had bitten too hard.

The first few months after Shirakumo’s death had passed slowly: a haze of visits to the guidance counsellor that eventually faded into one. He remembered very few individual details of that time and they assured him it was normal, even if it felt anything but.

He remembered the whisper of rainfall; remembered the way it had soaked his hair. He remembered his mother grabbing his face in her hands and begging him to say something...anything and slowly realising not only was she crying, but he didn’t remember coming home.

After several months of counselling, both after school and during free periods, he had adjusted to a life without Shirakumo in it. A year had passed now and it still hurt, but he no longer had a knee jerk response to his empty desk or the mention of his name. No one handled him gently anymore. They didn’t choose their words carefully as if afraid he might explode.

Shouta was different.

He didn’t go to any of the guidance counsellor’s appointments. He slept through class, he stopped studying. He had the same glassy look in his eyes Hizashi had when he returned home, only the light never really returned. He continued to come to school though committed to none of it, as if it wasn’t real and he wasn’t there, simply passing through a dream.

He had never been a chatty sort of person, but Hizashi felt his silence now more than ever. Any time he brought up Shirakumo it was like he’d poked a bruise, which in many senses he supposed he had.

He didn’t remember when exactly Shouta had started booking out the gym, only that he had been following him there for the past three months. He positioned himself in the doorway, back straight against the frame, finishing up his homework and pretending he wasn’t there.

Shouta didn’t speak about Shirakumo. He didn’t speak about that day. Instead he bled through bandages and skipped meals.

He made it only a quarter of the way up the rope this time, slipping on a part of the fabric that was still slick with blood before toppling back to the mats. He didn’t get up, instead sprawling across the mats as exhaustion finally caught up with him. His chest heaved, his eyes blurred with tears.

“Shit,” he murmured at first, though his voice grew louder as he got to his feet. “ Shit !!”

Hizashi got to his feet when Shouta did, taking a moment to perfect a convincingly wide smile before stepping forwards.

“Say, Sho,” he said, as Shouta wobbled on his feet. “I brought you something!”

Shouta turned to him, gaze drifting from his smile to the bottle of water in his hand.

“Look, I filled it up at the water fountain,” said Hizashi, holding it out. “It’s all nice and cold and refreshing!”

Shouta reached out to accept it with a nod of thanks before downing it in one. Hizashi watched, wringing his hands, pretending he didn’t see the tears in his eyes. It never ended well when he acknowledged them.

“Listen,” he said, “I was talking to some of the girls and we were thinking of going to the movies t-”

“I’ll pass.”

“Are you sure? They’re showing vintage movies! Beast Man vs-”

“I’ll pass. Thanks.”

Shouta passed him the empty bottle and turned back towards the mats, stretching out his arms and legs ahead of the exertion.

“You know…” Hizashi started, willing himself to speak, “the reason we’re going...it’s because it’s been a year...since…”

Shouta froze in place, still in the process of stretching.

Say something, Hizashi willed himself, though if he meant it for himself or Shouta he wasn’t sure.

Say something.

SAY SOMETHING.

“I’ll pass,” said Shouta at last, relaxing his body and walking back to the rope.

Hizashi watched, squeezing the empty water bottle until the plastic began to buckle.

“I, uh,” he said, smile fading, “I’ll get you some more water!”

“Don’t need it.”

He went anyway, closing the door to the gymnasium with a sigh and pressing his back against it. He stared down at the water bottle in his hands, at the condensation coating his fingers and the plastic, before squeezing his eyes shut.

~~~~~~

PRESENT

“We’re going to take a short break now, listeners! Take the time to get yourselves a glass of water and hydrate! It’s good for the skin, ya know?”

He muted his microphone and queued up several tracks before switching on his phone to check his social media. Sometimes his listeners posted questions or sent him interesting articles while he was on air, which made for good talking points when he returned.

He raised an eyebrow when well over a dozen missed calls and voicemails came through in swift succession. He scrolled through them, heart sinking when he realised most of them were from you. Ordinarily he would have been happy to hear from you, but it was difficult under present circumstances.

He wondered if this was it; if you were calling him to announce you and Shouta were finally a couple. He had been on the edge of his seat ever since Nemuri confirmed she had successfully gotten you to go in her stead, waiting for the inevitable.

His finger hovered over your name and his stomach churned. He wondered how you would break the news.

He took a deep breath and opened up the voicemail, preparing himself for the worst.

He had expected for you to be happy and laughing, every word overflowing with joy at this new development in your life. His blood ran cold, though, at the reality.

There wasn’t a shred of happiness in your voice, only desperation. You sounded drunk, as if enunciating every syllable took every ounce of strength you had.

Hizashi...I don’t know when you’ll get this...but something’s happening at the camp. I think it’s the League of Villains...they’re here! They have one of the creatures from USJ. Please, even if you can’t call me back, let the authorities know!

He got up from his chair and loaded up your next voicemail with shaking hands.

Your words were even slower this time.

Hizashi. When you get this, please call me, okay? There are three villains here so far and one of them is Moonfish. The students don’t know. They’re in danger!

He had heard of Moonfish. Everyone had. The details surrounding his arrest were considered too gruesome for public knowledge, so naturally everyone knew them.

He wondered how you could possibly have known Moonfish was present without seeing him; how you could have gotten close to one of the USJ creatures without being seen yourself.

He loaded the third and final voicemail, praying you were about to tell him you were fine, that you had gotten to safety and the pros were dealing with it. He swore he’d forgive you if it turned out to be a prank.

He sank to the floor, though, when you finally began to speak.

Hizashi, I think...I’m dying. Everything’s going dark. When you get this, please, just remember this address. Give it to the police...it’s-

Your phone cut out then and for a second he couldn’t breathe.

“No, no, no,” he said, frantically going through his phone in search of another voicemail, anything from you, any proof you were alive.

You hadn’t called him after that. You had sent him multiple text messages of the same address, though nothing after that final voicemail.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he said, dialling your number and chewing his thumbnail as it began to ring.

Your phone did ring, though no one answered.

It lay forgotten in the corner of an ambulance.

~~~~~

TICK

TOCK

TICK

TOCK

Shouta stared blankly at the clock on the wall, thoughts fuzzy and mouth dry. He couldn’t settle on a singular train of thought, staring into space even as the doctor lifted a pen torch and shone it in his eye.

Due in part to its remote location, the incident in the forest was an even bigger rescue effort than the Hosu attack not long before it. Police and medical teams were called in from all nearby cities, the former spending the night scouring the woods for stragglers and forensic evidence while the latter tended to the wounded. Several interns from Musutafu’s own hospitals were shipped in to join the effort and, while the more experienced doctors tended to the critically wounded, they checked for broken bones and signs of trauma, ran errands and lab tests for their superiors and in some cases even offered up an extra pair of hands during the more complicated procedures.

The moment he arrived at the hospital, Shouta was sent for a onceover by one such doctor, who was dressed in the tell tale embroidered scrubs of Musutafu’s university hospital. He introduced himself briskly before running through a few basic tests on his motor functions and rapid fire questions about his overall health.

Shouta barely remembered getting to the hospital. He couldn’t think of anything other than your bloody lips. Vlad had had to hold him back when the EMTs arrived because he had tried to stop them, convinced beyond reason that they would injure you further. He had a sneaking suspicion that that was why they had assigned such a freakishly tall doctor to give him a onceover.

Someone knocked at the door and the doctor slipped his pen torch back inside of his pocket.

“Come in,” he called out, getting up to reach for his clipboard as Tsukauchi let himself into the room and gave the young doctor a polite bow. Shouta noticed his eyes lit up when he saw the doctor’s name tag, though didn’t question it.

“Good evening,” said Tsukauchi, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“It’s fine,” said the doctor, “I’m finished here.”

He turned to Shouta with the telltale stern expression of medics the world over.

“You don’t have any long lasting injuries,” he said, “but it’s crucial you rest.”

Tsukauchi laughed under his breath as the doctor gave him a nod and dismissed himself from the room.

“How are the students?” Shouta asked, thinking of the fear in their eyes.

He had arrived at the hospital long after them, when both the police and pro heroes at the scene agreed to postpone the search for Ragdoll until daybreak. What’s more, due to his own admission and examination, he hadn’t had the chance to properly check in on them, which he bitterly regretted. They needed familiar faces at a time like this, someone in a position of authority who knew what they needed to hear.

They needed you at a time like this.

“(Name),” said Shouta. “Is she…”

The last time he had seen you was when the EMTs bundled you into an air ambulance and no one had been able to give him an update since. Tsukauchi’s face fell at the mention of you and he instantly feared the worst.

“She’s in critical condition,” he said at last, choosing his words carefully. “The last I heard, they were still operating on her. Actually...that’s why I came to speak to you.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke to Vlad,” he said. “He tells me you received a text message from her before…well.”

Shouta stiffened, remembering the multiple messages that had come through the moment he returned to the classroom; messages you had almost certainly typed with bloody fingers.

“I wanted to ask,” said Tsukauchi, “this address...does it have any personal significance to her?”

“She conducted interrogations with you after USJ,” said Shouta. “You’ve seen her quirk in action. Surely you understand its value as intel?”

“I do,” he said, “but…”

He paused, both of them knowing what he meant to say.

People did strange things on the brink of death. Perhaps that address had nothing to do with the attack, but a deeper significance.

“It’s intel,” he said, refusing to accept the alternative. “We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course,” said Tsukauchi, getting up from his chair and giving him a polite nod. “We’ve postponed taking statements until tomorrow morning. Rest up for now. The doctors will have my head if you don’t.”

Shouta watched him leave, before leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes.  

TICK

TOCK

TICK

Shouta...I need to talk to you.

TOCK

We’ll be able to ask her tomorrow.

TICK

TOCK

It’s crucial you rest.

At some point, though he didn’t know when, he had convinced himself that you would be awake by sunrise.

In a few hours you would be able to tell them what happened to Ragdoll. You could tell them the significance of the address.

He couldn’t rest until then.

~~~~~

You weren’t awake by sunrise. As a matter of fact, you were still in surgery and blissfully unaware of the chaos erupting around you.

You were asleep when the hospital called not only your next of kin but those of the first year students; you were on the operating table when All Might and Nezu received the news.

You didn’t find out until much later about Bakugo’s kidnapping, nor the true extent of the damage.

You never found out about Nezu’s immediate safety protocol to slow the inevitable hordes of press. While Nemuri and Hizashi had both received missed calls and knew about the incident, they were instructed to continue as if nothing had changed. Nemuri returned to her television interview, a fresh layer of makeup to disguise the fact that she had sobbed in the bathroom ten minutes beforehand. Hizashi greeted his listeners and continued to play tracks, though his happy tone didn’t meet his eyes and he took far fewer chat breaks than normal. Every time the music faded, he listened to your voicemails, wondering if that would be the last time he ever heard your voice.

You had no idea Shouta spent the night wandering the corridors and checking in on his students, calling your number whenever he was alone. He never left a message, just listened to the joy in your voice.

Hello, this is (Name). I’m not around at the moment, please leave a message!

He didn’t want to think about what you had actually said to him before being taken away.

...it’s unfair...unfair...un...fair.

What was unfair?

That the first year students had faced so much danger so soon?

That you had most likely sustained such a serious wound trying to help the investigation?

That your body lay bruised and broken and not-

He thought of body bags and bloodied gravel before he could stop himself; another body at a different time. He dug his nails into his palms, into well worn scars and calluses, and dialled your number again.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before journalists caught wind of the blood in the water and flocked to UA for answers. Much like the Hosu incident, Nezu summoned several of the remaining members of the faculty to discuss recent events. Not only was there a lot of ground to cover and decisions to be made, but very little time to do so.

Everyone was restless for different reasons; Nemuri picked at her nails, Hizashi toed the floor with his boot, All Might fidgeted in his seat. The only remotely composed one was Nezu, though every so often his gaze drifted to the newspapers in front of him.

“We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow,” he said, thoughtfully. “After Aizawa and Vlad have given their statements, I’ll brief them on a plan of action. For now it’s important we cooperate with the police and prepare for the worst case scenario.”

“This is my fault,” said All Might. “I should have never come to UA this year.”

“This isn’t the time for blame,” said Nezu. “Right now we must deal with the immediate problems at hand. The students will require not only medical care but a full psychological review before they return to classes next semester… we will have to organise a replacement counsellor.”

Everyone grew tense at that.

“Temporary,” said Hizashi.

“Hm?”

“ Temporary counsellor, not a replacement. We have a perfectly good one already.”

Nezu sighed.

“(Name) suffered heavy blood loss and remains in critical condition,” he said. “You must forgive me for taking into account the worst case scenario. If (Name) survives…”

“She will.”

“... if she survives, it will be at least a month before she returns to her duties. We’ll need a replacement until she is recovered.”

Hizashi shook his head at the mental image alone of your injuries. You should have been there with them, not bleeding out on an operating table.

“Don’t misunderstand my actions,” said Nezu, far more gently than before, “I don’t want to entertain the idea of losing one of our own either. It’s not something I take lightly. I’m wishing for (Name)’s recovery as much as any one of you, but we should not ignore the facts. We cannot allow UA to fall. We cannot allow our society to fall into chaos. Her sacrifice and that of so many others must not be in vain.”

~~~~~~

While Nezu and the other teachers discussed tactics, Shouta and Vlad were at the police station and arguably just as tense. It certainly didn’t help matters that the room Tsukauchi had chosen to take their statements was just as silent and sterile as the hospital, a fact he tried to downplay by offering them strong coffee and a sympathetic ear.

Vlad stole glances at Aizawa as he described the events of the night before, taking in the ever present bags under his eyes. He had gone through not one but three cups of black coffee since their arrival with no sign of slowing down any time soon. Vlad knew all too well that Aizawa was a night owl, but today it stood out to him in ways it never had before.

He remembered the way you had knocked at Aizawa’s bedroom door; your bright blush and panicked expression when he caught you. He remembered your conversation at breakfast the day before- how desperate you had been to talk to him.

There was only one rational explanation for both your behaviour and Aizawa’s own, an explanation that up until recently he had found interesting, though now struck him as tragic.

He wondered how composed he would have been in Aizawa’s position. He didn’t have a lover and couldn’t imagine how it would feel to find one on the brink of death. He wondered what it was you meant to say to Aizawa that day.

As Tsukauchi stepped out of the room to speak to his subordinate, Vlad stared into his own neglected cup of coffee, wanting to break the awkward silence but unsure how to do so. This wasn’t the time for idle chit chat or jokes, but he was tired of talking about the incident.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, “for back then.”

Seeing you hurt had shaken Aizawa so badly that Vlad had had to hit him in the face to bring him even slightly back to earth. He felt guilty for it, especially as Aizawa was clearly suffering the ill effects of a panic attack, but in that moment he had little choice. You weren’t dead yet but you would be if they didn’t act quickly and he wasn’t capable of giving both of you his undivided attention.

“S’fine,” said Aizawa before downing the remnants of his fourth plastic cup of coffee. “It was the best course of action under the circumstances. I would have done the same.”

Vlad chuckled under his breath, knowing he absolutely would.

Tsukauchi returned to the room a matter of seconds later, clutching a file under his arm and grinning widely. It was as if he had had a new lease of life and Vlad was more than a little intrigued about what had caused it.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, as if he had been gone for an hour as opposed to a few minutes. “There’s been a development.”

He sat back down and opened up the file, revealing a typed report and black and white photographs of a shabby building.

“I had my team run a check on the address (Name) sent out,” he said, pushing one of the photographs across the table. “It’s a building in Kamino ward, mostly abandoned. A while ago, one of my team investigated a tip off about suspicious looking people in that area, though ultimately it didn’t amount to much of anything because there was far too much ground to cover. Among the witness statements was a description of a man with a patchwork face.”

Aizawa tensed, realisation sinking in.

“You mean…”

“I think,” said Tsukauchi, “that the patchwork faced man in this report is the same one you encountered at the lodge. The address (Name) sent so many times…”

“It’s their lair,” said Vlad. “It’s got to be.”

Aizawa rubbed his temples, face crumpling with the smallest of smiles.

“What are you planning to do next?” said Vlad. “If this really is the lair of the League of Villains…that’s where we’ll find Katsuki Bakugou.”

“We need to think carefully before we act,” said Tsukauchi. “If we attack too slowly, they’re more likely to shift bases, especially after making such a dramatic move. That said, if we move too quickly and without all of the facts...it could be dangerous for all involved.”

He laughed under his breath and turned to Aizawa.

“You were right,” he said. “This is valuable intel.”

“You can thank her when this is over.”

Tsukauchi smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He knew all too well that there was every chance he’d be thanking your gravestone instead of you.

“I will.”

~~~~~

“Nemuri?”

Hizashi turned away from the desk.

“Nemuri? Where did you go?”

Instead of attending the emergency staff meeting, Recovery Girl had gone to the hospital, where her efforts were most needed. She kissed away broken bones and bruises and greeted more than her fair share of distraught parents, as well as scolding any badly injured students she happened to catch out of bed.

She also took the opportunity to update Nezu on the state of the injured, from the ill effects of gas to who was conscious and who would need a little longer to recover. She was the first to know when you were released from surgery; the first to pass on the message that you had been moved to the ICU.

Nemuri, Hizashi and All Might had immediately insisted on visiting the wards, all three overwhelmed with guilt. If All Might or Nemuri had been present, the night might have ended differently.

All Might turned down any offer of a ride to the hospital, instead making a pit stop to catch up with Tsukauchi, leaving Nemuri and Hizashi to arrive without him. It was a decision that paid off in the long run, for nobody recognised the pair in their civilian clothes as they would the Symbol of Peace.

After they showed their hero licenses at the front desk, the receptionist had picked up the phone to call in for someone to escort them to your room and somehow, in the middle of everything, Nemuri had disappeared.

Hizashi wondered if she’d gone to the washroom, only for his heart to sink when he saw her.

She was standing outside of the gift shop, staring into the glassy eyes of simultaneously the tallest and ugliest teddy bear he had ever seen.

Hizashi left the reception desk and walked towards her, eying up the bear.

“Thinking of treating yourself?” he asked, prompting her to sigh and fold her arms.

“I’ve never understood it,” she said.

“Teddy bears?”

“No. Gift shops in hospitals. Who would want a souvenir of something like this?”

“It’s not only bad stuff that happens here.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel that way.”

He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and no one could have predicted this, but it felt hypocritical.

“I promise,” he said, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, “something good will come out of this. Somehow, in ways we don’t know about yet. In the future we’ll look back on today and...well, maybe not laugh, but smile at least.”

“If that ever happens, I’m buying this bear.”

~~~~~~

Your room was in a secluded area of the hospital, far from the prying eyes of not only the public, but injured students. Nezu had insisted on it, for the scope of your injuries were not public knowledge and certainly not known to the students. They had not seen you taken away in an ambulance, nor had they seen you pinned to a tree. They had been told you suffered injuries, but nothing that would add to the trauma of that night.

Perhaps it was the echo of their footsteps against the floor, combined with the sterile walls and shapeless furniture, but it felt like they were entering forbidden territory.

“In here,” said the nurse, tapping at one of the doors a couple of times before guiding them inside.

Hizashi had tried to prepare himself for the worst. He had listened to your voicemails, imagination twisting and turning. Nothing, though, prepared him for what greeted him on the other side.

You looked small , tubes connecting you to multiple machines and cuts and bruises still visible underneath the oxygen mask. Perhaps the worst part of it all was how peaceful you looked, just the same as you had when you had rested in his arms, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt with his face on. Back then he could think of nothing worse than waking you; he had held himself so still that he had a crick in his neck for days afterwards.

He would have given anything to go back. If he knew then what he knew now, he would have nudged you awake and chatted the night away. He would have offered up that round two, taking you so hard in the bathtub that water spilled out and soaked the tiles. He would have kissed you at your kitchen table instead of saying he didn’t want you as you were.

“You okay?”

Nemuri poked him. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bed, setting himself down in the chair beside you and dragging it closer until he could lean over and rest his head against yours, relishing the warmth of your forehead. You weren’t dead. Not yet.

“What do you think she’d say if it was one of us?” said Nemuri, stepping closer and running her fingertips across the back of your hand. “If the roles were reversed and you, me or Eraser were here instead.”

“Hmmmmmm.”

Hizashi sat up and scratched his chin, thinking back to the sports festival, the sushi bar, Les Papilles . He remembered the night of the Hosu incident; the way you had looped your arms around Shouta’s middle; the way you stood up onto your tiptoes; the words that left your lips.

“I have to go,” he said at last, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before getting to his feet.

“But we just got here,” said Nemuri, “why w-”

“There’s something I have to do,” he said, hurrying out of the room. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Nemuri watched him leave, a bewildered expression across her face. She turned back to you, searching for the answers in your sleeping features and ultimately giving up, sinking down into a chair and taking your hand in hers. She stroked your palms and linked her fingers through yours, breathing a heavy sigh at your chipped nail polish.

She reached into her purse and pulled out one of the several bottles she carried everywhere for when she scuffed her own.

“Now then,” she said, unscrewing the lid and stretching out your fingers, “let’s fix you up.”

~~~~~~~

Shouta returned home after leaving the police station, though not out of choice. He wanted to go back to the hospital, but had been advised against doing so, leaving him little choice but to accept the ride.

He understood the logic of it, but spent only about five minutes at home before leaving again. He didn’t go to the hospital, or anywhere the press might be lurking, instead heading for the 24 hour store a couple of blocks from his house. He genuinely did need to stock up on eyedrops, aspirin and cat food. It was a reasonable excuse to be out and about.

He was fine until he got to the counter and happened to notice a display of fresh peaches. Within seconds he remembered Yamanashi- remembered that you had been planning to go.

He came home with two punnets and placed them on his coffee table. He had no intention of eating them, but couldn’t stand the idea of leaving the store without them. In many ways, leaving without them felt like leaving without you.

He laid back on his couch, Sushi taking the chance to curl up on his stomach and purr. Normally this was the perfect recipe for an afternoon nap, but the peaches sat in his peripheral vision and he kept his eyes wide open.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the ceiling, only that Sushi darted under the table at the sound of heavy knocking at the front door. Shouta winced at the sudden, sharp pain of paws digging into his ribs, wondering if the presses had figured out where he lived.

Maybe they’d leave if he stayed still enough.

He ran his fingers over his middle and wondered if he’d bruise, breathing a sigh of relief as the person outside stopped knocking. The peace and quiet didn’t last long, though, for a matter of moments later a key turned in the lock. He jumped to his feet just as quickly as Sushi had and stumbled towards the kitchen, pressing his back against the wall as the intruder stepped inside.

“Sho, are you here?”

It was Hizashi, which retrospectively shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Shouta only had two keys and had given him the spare so that he could feed Sushi while he was away at camp.

“Sho-”

“I’m here.”

Hizashi clutched a hand to his chest, plainly not expecting him to be standing so close.

“Why are you hiding around the corner?”

“I thought you were a journalist.”

“A journalist who has a key ?”

“You never know,” sighed Shouta, turning back to the couch. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I came to check in on you,” said Hizashi.

“You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Shouta faced him, willing him to leave. He hated the way he was looking at him, as if he deserved any sort of sympathy or pity. He remembered it from high school, after Shirakumo’s funeral and subsequent obituary. He hadn’t deserved pity then, either.

“Well,” he said, raising his arms, “as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, it’s the truth.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Shouta,” said Hizashi, rubbing his temples, “you can lie to me all you want, but stop lying to yourself.”

“What do y-”

“Don’t you see? We’ve been here before,” said Hizashi. “This is what happened to-“

“Don’t say it.”

Shouta didn’t want to hear Shirakumo’s name. Not now. Not ever. Hizashi refused to back down, though.

“You weren’t fine then and you aren’t fine now,” he said, “and I can’t do this again.”

Hizashi squeezed his hands into fists and braced his body. Shouta watched, more than a little bit curious. This was the first time he had ever seen Hizashi so angry and without even the slightest hint of a smile.

“I should have told you back then,” he said, trembling, “but I didn’t...and you were gone for so long …”

“Gone? You mean when I went underground? Before UA?”

“No...yes,” Hizashi turned away and tangled his fingers in his hair. “No. When you started sleeping through the day...when you didn’t pay attention in class anymore…you were gone and it took years for you to come back.”

“I still sleep during the day,” said Shouta, “I don’t-“

“It’s not your fault,” said Hizashi. “It was never your fault. What happened to Shirakumo...what happened to (Name)...it’s not your fault.”

Shouta remembered the rubble; the sound of Shirakumo’s voice in his ear. If he had moved just a little faster...if he had been just a little more aware of his surroundings...

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, shaking his head as if to shake away the memory.

“I wouldn’t understand?” Hizashi laughed in disbelief. “My quirk was one of the ones that killed him, Sho! (Name) wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Wait... what ?”

As far as he knew, (Name) had been a substitute chaperone. What did any of that have to do with Hizashi?

“What do you mean she was there because of you?”

“Nemuri was completely fine,” said Hizashi, “she dropped out so (Name) would go instead…she did it for me . Nemuri should have been there. (Name) should have been home.”

Shouta froze in place, absorbing this new development.

“I know everything,” breathed Hizashi, stepping closer. “I know that you slept with (Name) before any of us met her. I know that you kept it from us to protect her. I know that you pushed her away because you loved her and she let you do it because she loved you too.”

“I…”

Shouta didn't know what to say; he felt exposed.

“Ask me how I know, Eraser,” said Hizashi, grabbing him by the shirt. “Ask me!”

“Hizashi, you’re being-“

“I know because I did too,” said Hizashi, pulling at the fabric between his fingers. “I slept with her too, on the night of the Hosu incident...I didn’t say anything either, but then I found out about Ego and…” he smiled sadly, “you’d be so good together.”

“That’s not something you get to decide.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” said Hizashi. “But you don't either. Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I wouldn’t piece it together? If (Name) was really the girl from Ego ...if you really did care for each other that much...why did she sit there and hit on me ? Could it be that someone had already put the idea in her head ?!”

“Hizash-“

“It’s unfair, Shouta,” said Hizashi, “we’re completely different people, but we both made the same mistake. We both decided we knew better for (Name) and each other without askin’ first.”

Unfair …

Shouta remembered that word crossing your lips and felt sick.

“You shouldn’t punish yourself over this,” said Hizashi, quietly, “don’t offer yourself up as someone else’s scapegoat. If you’re going to blame someone-“

“Why shouldn’t I? You weren’t there. I was,” said Shouta, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. “I could have saved her.”

“No, you couldn’t have,” said Hizashi. “Even if you kept her with you, there’s no telling what would have happened.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t! I stayed quiet for years. I pretended I didn’t see because I didn’t know what to do. I-“

“Shut...up…”

“I won’t!” Hizashi cried out, so loudly that the furniture began to rattle. “I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. It wasn’t-“

“Shut up.”

“-your-“

“Stop!”

“-fau-“

Hizashi never got the chance to finish, because Shouta shoved him in one last ditch attempt to get out of his grip, leaving both of them tumbling to the floor, Hizashi landing flat on his back and Shouta taking the chance to straddle his waist.

“Shut up,” said Shouta, taking hold of Hizashi’s collar and squeezing his eyes shut. “Shut...up.”

Hizashi lay perfectly still, watching as one tear landed on him and then another.

“It was my fault...my fault...my fault. How can you say we’d be good together? I don’t deserve to look her in the face. She’s a civilian...I’m a pro.”

He didn’t say what he was thinking, what he had been thinking ever since he and Hizashi stood in the rain well over a decade ago, surrounded by ruined buildings and shattered dreams.

It should have been me.

He had been thinking it since he first saw Shirakumo being taken away in a body bag; he’d been thinking it ever since the EMTs took you away.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” said Hizashi. “What she said on the night of the Hosu incident.”

Shouta squinted, thinking back to then.

He remembered watching as you and Hizashi arrived, both smelling of tangerines. He remembered how angry he had been that evening, how he had decided to sneak in an early morning patrol to burn off both the adrenaline and jealousy. He remembered finding you there in floods of tears and embracing both Hizashi and Nemuri. He remembered what came next.

He had turned to leave, only to hear the clack of heels against the pavement. He knew it was you and didn’t bother to flinch when you stood up onto your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his middle. He remembered peering over his shoulder and into your face, taking in your enormous smile.

Thank you.

What for?

You looked him in the face, determined smile transforming into a gentle one.

Tell me...tonight, with Stain, was there anything more you could have done?

His skin prickled from your quirk, but he didn’t erase it.

No.

He hadn’t expected that to be the answer. He hoped it didn’t show on his face, but it plainly did, for you had giggled and squeezed him harder.

You should be kinder to yourself. No one likes living with a bully.

Shouta stared down at Hizashi, who still hadn’t moved.

“Stop it,” he murmured. He couldn’t stand the idea that you’d forgive him.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, looking down, “if she d-“

“Don’t…”

Hizashi placed his hands over the ones that clutched his collar.

“Shouta,” he said, “she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over this. She’d tell you you did your best! The only thing she’d be mad at you for is blaming yourself for something out of your control.”

Shouta couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t stand the way he held onto him; couldn’t stand thinking of him as an anchor.

He couldn’t stand acknowledging he was right.

He had gotten used to bottling his emotions; had accepted his fate of sealing off the cracks. He had resigned himself to squeezing onto them, contorting them and resculpting them to keep them from spilling out, but seeing you had broken the glass and set them free. He felt everything all at once, grief to love to anguish to joy. He couldn’t hold onto any single sensation any more than he could hold water in his hands.

He didn’t want to think about anything; didn’t want to feel anything.

No, that was wrong.

He felt like he was drowning and longed for anything else.

“Sho,” said Hizashi, “say something.”

Shouta’s hands shook. He didn’t know what to say. He never had.

“Say something ,” said Hizashi before falling silent, lips crushed under Shouta’s own.

Hizashi’s lips tasted of tears, though whose Shouta couldn’t say. He wished he could stop time and absorb every detail: the softness of Hizashi’s lips and sweet scent of his hair; the tickle of his moustache; the warmth of his breath as the shock faded and both of them realised what was happening.  

Shouta sat up with a start, heart racing and reality sinking in. Hizashi lay wide eyed on the floor, mouth opening and closing.

“I,” said Shouta, instantly worrying he’d gone too far, “I should-“

He moved to get up but Hizashi grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him back down.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, lifting his head until his lips met Shouta’s.

Shouta had never kissed another man before; he hadn’t kissed very many people in general. He had expected it to feel wrong somehow, yet it came as naturally to him as breathing. He caught himself wondering why he’d never kissed Hizashi before. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought about it.

“What are we doing?” he murmured.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

He reached down to slip his hand under Hizashi’s shirt, relishing the gasp he got as he brushed his fingers over exposed skin.  He had always been quietly jealous when Hizashi mentioned sleeping with complete strangers. They never had to worry about what he’d think about them afterwards. Right then, Shouta was too exhausted and emotional to care either and it felt strangely liberating.

“Sho,” said Hizashi as he dragged off his shirt and tossed it aside, “have you ever...with another guy?”

“No. You?”

Shouta shrugged off his own shirt and threw it halfway across the room, narrowly missing the door to the balcony.

He had seen Hizashi naked before. This wasn’t the first time they’d helped one another out of their clothes. It was different now, though. This time around, it wasn’t because one of them was injured. They weren’t in public baths or the locker room. This was new and all consuming and Shouta wanted to lose himself in it.

“Yeah,” sighed Hizashi, “once or twice. Sho-”

“Mmm?”

“How far were you thinking of going?”

Shouta took in his shaky voice and glanced down at him, taking in the tears trailing from his eyes to the carpet.

“Did you not want to?”

“It’s not that,” said Hizashi, flushing scarlet, “it’s just that if you wanted to...y’know...you should probably let me take the lead.”

Shouta nodded and shifted his weight, giving Hizashi room to sit up. He was only too happy to hand over control- beyond kissing he didn’t really know what he was doing. He’d never touched any other dick but his own and under ordinary circumstances would have talked himself out of it by now.

Hizashi ran his hands from Shouta’s shoulders to his chest and pushed him over onto his back, crashing his lips against his as he linked his fingers in Shouta’s belt loops. Shouta yanked at his hair tie in response, relishing the way it cascaded forward and enveloped him in sunlight.

He would never admit to it, but he’d always been a fan of long hair and almost all of it stemmed from Hizashi.

Hizashi dragged away his belt and fiddled with Shouta’s fly, lips never once breaking contact.

“Off with these,” he said, gripping onto Shouta’s waistband and easing off his pants and boxers, eyes widening at the sight of his fully exposed body.

He was covered in leftover bruises from the attack at the lodge, as well as old scars from other incidents, such as the attack on USJ. Normally he didn’t pay them much heed: they were as much a part of him as his arms and legs and other people rarely saw them. Right now, though, they were all he could think about.

“Damn Shouta,” Hizashi chuckled, “I never noticed you were packin’.”

“Shut up,” he said, heat rising in his cheeks and making Hizashi laugh even harder.

They had seen each other naked before but never looked any more than was polite. There was no room for modesty now, yet Shouta’s instinct was still to cover himself up. He moved a hand to cover his dick, though Hizashi caught it before he could, laughing as he coaxed his hand away.

“Seems a little unfair that I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All in good time.”

Hizashi’s belt jingled as it hit the floor and Shouta watched as he reached for his zipper. He stopped before unfastening his pants and looked up, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“What is it?”

“You don’t want to undress me?”

“I…”

Shouta both did and didn’t. He wanted to relish this moment and drink in every inch of Hizashi’s naked body...but he wanted to touch it too. His silence proved enough of an answer, though, for Hizashi swiftly grinned.

“So you like to watch, eh? Interesting…”

He loosened his zipper and kicked off his pants, taking care to stretch out each movement as much as possible. Shouta stared unapologetically, taking in the shape of his body and bounce of his hard dick as he dropped his underwear to the floor.

“Like what you see?”

He didn’t know what to say, so nodded instead, watching as Hizashi lowered himself down onto his elbows. Shouta inhaled deeply, taking in the warmth of Hizashi’s body against his, the sweet scent emanating from his hair, the hardness of his dick against his own.

“Say something,” said Hizashi, so softly that Shouta barely heard him.

Everything was going to be different after this and he tangled his fingers in Hizashi’s hair.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

He kissed him so hard that at first he couldn’t breathe, only letting up when Shouta grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. Hizashi moaned and Shouta sucked at his throat, hands trailing down Hizashi’s chest and over his nipple, taking care to slow his touches as he crossed over the stud there.

Shouta remembered when he got that nipple piercing. They were still teenagers at the time and Hizashi had gotten into an argument with his mother over it. She let him grow out his hair, she let him wear the most obnoxiously bright glasses he could find, her only condition to letting him stay up until the early hours of the morning working on his radio show was that his grades didn’t suffer and he only did it once a week. The piercing, though, was where she drew the line.

He scoped out pretty much every piercing shop in Musutafu, desperate to find one that wouldn’t ask too many questions, much less demand parental consent.

The one he settled for in the end was more than a little bit seedy and almost certainly at the epicenter of criminal activity. Shirakumo insisted on bringing a camera and perfectly captured the exact moment the piercing gun punctured Hizashi’s body and he regretted everything.

It was as sensitive now as it was then, leaving Hizashi moaning into his open mouth. Hizashi ground his hips against Shouta’s, bare skin colliding with bare skin. Shouta’s mind fell blank at the feel of Hizashi’s hard dick against his own, the sudden stimulation sending shivers down his spine.

He had never felt anything like this before. He ran a hand down Hizashi’s back, gripping onto his bare ass as he thrust his hips against him.

“Shouta,” said Hizashi, “do you trust me?”

It was a weird question and Shouta laid back, taking in his flushed face and tousled hair.

“What kind of question is that?”

“But do you?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” he said, taking hold of both of his hands and laying them on the floor, one on either side of his head. “Put your hands up.”

Shouta watched, bewildered, as he let go and sat up onto his knees, spreading Shouta’s legs and maneuvering himself into the gap.

“What...are you…”

His stomach fluttered, imagination running wild with possibilities.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” said Hizashi sheepishly. “Ever since I found out what happened at Ego ...I know what (Name) feels like...I know what she sounds like...but I don’t know that about you .”

He scratched his chin and took a long look at Shouta’s body.

“Sho,” he said, “I want to know what you sound like.”

Shouta recalled his own dreams; the numerous obscene scenarios that had entered his imagination after he realised you and Hizashi had slept together. He and Hizashi couldn’t have been any more different, but when it came to the important things they were the same.

He nodded, taking note of the gleam in Hizashi’s eyes, heart skipping a beat as he spat in his open palm and took hold of both of their cocks.

Hizashi jerked him -both of them- hard and fast, so quickly that Shouta couldn’t keep track of his movements, only the shuddering it sent through his body. The last time he had had sex with another person was with you. Any time he came after that had been purely accidental.

It didn’t take much for him to moan in desperation, for him to dig his fingers into the carpet above his head. He sucked in a deep breath, close to the point of no return, only for Hizashi to stop. Shouta glanced up at him, wondering if he’d done something wrong or Hizashi had changed his mind.

The truth couldn’t have been more infuriating. Hizashi gazed down at him, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, you,” Shouta said, realising the situation he was in, “you fucker .”

“I mean, if we’re going to be technical,” said Hizashi, pointing down at their hips, “you’re just as guilty as me on that front.”

Shouta lifted his hands, wanting nothing more than to drag Hizashi to the ground.

“Ahhh, no,” said Hizashi, “hands up, remember?”

Shouta cursed under his breath, but obeyed, laying his hands flat against the carpet.

He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for this. He knew Hizashi was into edging. Hizashi was into anything that left his partner a shuddering mess.

After a few more seconds of torture, Hizashi took hold of their dicks again, jerking them slowly this time. He took the time to run his fingers along the underside of Shouta’s cock, along the sensitive spot right underneath the tip and giving it a perfectly timed squeeze. Shouta bucked his hips into his touches, willing him to go faster, but Hizashi did quite the opposite. He slowed down to an infuriatingly slow pace, watching in satisfaction as Shouta’s hands twitched, eager to finish the job.

Truth be told, Shouta really did trust him. That was the only thing keeping him still. He could have kicked him off at any moment, could have escaped his grip without breaking a sweat. He didn’t want to, though. Every second he spent there, moaning and frustrated, he wasn’t thinking about his failures. Right then that was all he needed.

Only when Shouta had gotten used to this new pace did Hizashi go faster, jerking at both of their cocks just as quickly as before, only this time squeezing tighter. Shouta dug his nails into his palms, tracing over the familiar calluses and holding his breath, stomach clenching and body tensing in anticipation of the pleasure to come. Just as before, though, Hizashi slowed down.

“Not long now,” said Hizashi, “just a little more.”

Shouta prepared himself for another round of slow, gentle touches, only to be completely taken off guard. Hizashi jerked them both fast and hard, so hard that it sent Shouta over the edge with only a couple of minutes. His mind fell blank and he called out in pleasure, wriggling in place as he spilled all over Hizashi’s fingers, liquid pleasure seeping from Hizashi’s fist and onto his stomach, all while Hizashi continued to pump. Shouta cried out from overstimulation; Hizashi whined as his own climax came, leaving his own cum to escape his fist and mix with Shouta’s until the pair of them were a sweating mess.

Hizashi let go and gasped for air, covered in a sheen of sweat and the occasional drop of cum on his chest. He looked down at Shouta, who was just as breathless, body still twitching from release.

Shouta barely noticed as Hizashi moved to lie down next to him. He was too far gone to pay attention to anything other than the pleasure rushing through his body.

“You know,” panted Hizashi, “you can’t do that every time you want me to shut up.”

“Why not? Seemed to work.”

Shouta glanced around the room; at their discarded clothes and dirty bodies. He knew it would bother him later, but right then he didn’t care about very much of anything. He looked over his shoulder, taking in Hizashi’s flushed face beside him. The softness was fading from it, back to the one of concern from when he arrived.

“Shall we talk about it?”

Shouta sighed, looking away.

“We really should talk about it,” said Hizashi, reaching for his glasses. “We’ll need to-umph!”

Shouta had reached for one of the peaches on his coffee table. The same one currently stuffed in Hizashi’s mouth.

“Later,” said Shouta, to which Hizashi sighed and sank his teeth into the peach.

They lay there in silence for quite some time, Hizashi making it about halfway through the fruit before Shouta began to speak.

“With my life,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“I trust you with it,” he said, grabbing a peach of his own and taking an enormous bite before he could say anything embarrassing.

Well, he thought as Hizashi squeaked through a mouthful of peach, visibly delighted by the revelation, even more embarrassing.

~~~~~

The rest of the day passed quickly.

Shouta frowned through the bathroom door as a towel-clad Hizashi rifled through his wardrobe in search of a suit for the upcoming media interview.

Visiting hours came to a close and Nemuri planted a kiss to your forehead before returning home.

Tsukauchi stayed awake long into the night, going over strategies and making phone calls.

Nezu lit a cigar and stared into the smoke as it hit the night air, contemplating potential futures and outcomes.

You slept through all of it, completely unaware of the struggles of everyone around you.

Night fell and your room remained untouched by the world outside. You stayed asleep as police guarded the corridors; as media outlets scrambled for answers. You didn’t move as midnight struck and someone climbed through your bedroom window. Someone who, realistically, should have known better.

You stayed still and oblivious as they stood at the foot of your bed, taking in your freshly painted fingernails and tranquil expression.

They came and went from your room like a ghost, whispering an apology in your ear and planting a kiss on your forehead, willing you to remember it.

You didn’t remember it.

When you woke up, in fact, quite some time later, you didn’t remember much of anything. You didn’t know where you were, didn’t know how you’d gotten there.

You were sure of only one thing: that the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a punnet of fresh peaches.

[harrowharkboygf]

Game Night

a short post-season 5 oneshot. read on ao3

——

Catra liked to think of herself as a dedicated person. There were a lot of things she still hated about herself—the therapist Perfuma had recommended to her had said during their first session that it would take time to fully forgive herself, to get out of the “self-destructive mindset” she had spent so long embracing. But she at least prided herself on her resolve, her resilience, her determination.

However, it turned out that in terms of determination, she was nothing compared to the princesses’ crazed desire to hold as many social events as physically possible.

At first, during the initial celebration at Brightmoon and the stream of Thank You For Saving The World, Princesses! parties that were thrown in their honor as they traveled across Etheria to help with rebuilding efforts, Catra thought that this was just because of the circumstances. Everyone was clearly thrilled to be alive and happy that the princesses were back to being heroes, and they wanted to commemorate the occasion with festivities.

(It was still weird to think of herself like that. As a member of the Princess Alliance. Would it ever get less strange?)

But then Catra learned that the princesses were just like that. There were endless game nights and iceball tournaments and flower crown-making circles and picnics and trips around Etheria just for the purpose of seeing the sights. Late night planning meetings that turned into sleepovers, and visits to their allies under the guise of “checking in” that held no tactical purpose in the end.

This was so foreign, so beyond her reality; she had grown up in the Horde, where her idea of free time was just more training. Her only celebrations came in the form of stolen moments with Adora and extra ration bars, which she hoarded like it was water in the Crimson Wastes.

But despite how skeptical she acted, deep down Catra loved it, even the flower crowns. She discovered that she was very good at iceball—so good that she and Adora were banned from playing against each other on the grounds of being too competitive. (Thankfully, Glimmer and Frosta were equally worthy opponents.) Spinnerella and Netossa were more than happy to teach her all their tricks; Catra found the couple oddly comforting, a nice, stable, older presence that she’d never had before.

But above all, Catra loved the quiet moments the most. Late sleepovers with the Best Friend Squad (her attempts to change the name to something more badass, like the Kickass Comrades, had been shot down) had, much to her surprise, become one of her favorite things. The old Catra would have scoffed seeing her now, eating sweets and giggling late into the night, but she didn’t care. Arrow Boy and Sparkles had actually become her friends, dignity be damned.

And of course, there was Adora. Beautiful, amazing, wonderful Adora, with her sparkling blue eyes and soft lips and strong arms that always ended up wrapped around Catra. She could hardly believe it was real, that Adora loved her. She wondered if she would ever be able to wake up and not stare in disbelief at the sight of Adora lying next to her, staring at her with soft, loving eyes. If one day she would stop fearing that all of it was a dream.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Glimmer shouted. “Quit being gross and get over here so you can finish helping us!”

They had spent the last two weeks in what had formerly been known as the Fright Zone, and what was soon to become Scorpia’s kingdom. The still-newly-minted princess had decided to use it as a refuge for former Horde soldiers who were looking to turn over a new leaf. “After all,” Scorpia had said, “if Catra and Adora and I all changed, everyone else can, too.”

But unsurprisingly, the place was still, as Catra put it, full of shit. So the Princess Alliance decided to clean it up and redecorate.

“You said we could take a water break!” protested Adora.

“Yeah,” said Catra, smirking. “We’re so thirsty.” She blinked innocently up at Glimmer from her perch on Adora’s lap, one arm slung around her shoulders and the other hand playing with her blonde hair.

Mermista, who was carrying a stack of boxes nearby, rolled her eyes. “Yeah you are,” she muttered. Behind her, Sea Hawk gave them a thumbs up.

Glimmer put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “I said you could take a water break when Adora tried to lift a literal tank without shifting into She-Ra. But that was twenty minutes ago! Let’s go, you two. Chop chop.”

Adora’s gaze was fixed on Catra, a soft smile sliding across her lips. “Just a minute,” she told Glimmer, not breaking eye contact with Catra. Gently, she tipped her head upwards and kissed her. Catra let herself dissolve into the kiss, closing her eyes and exhaling.

They pulled apart only to press their foreheads together. “I think we’re annoying,” Adora stage-whispered.

Catra barely kept herself from giggling. (Giggling. What the fuck, honestly.) “You think?” she asked.

She heard Glimmer say, “Bow! Come help me!” Then she felt hands wrap around her as Bow and Glimmer bodily lifted her up off of Adora’s lap. She hissed in fake-annoyance, squirming in their grip.

“Don’t pretend you two are much better!” she shrieked as they deposited her onto a pile of stacked bedrolls. “I saw you feeding Sparkles at breakfast!”

Frosta scoffed as she used her ice powers to hang a lantern. “I get it, you’re all gross! When can we be done? I’m bored!”

Scorpia delicately set a plant down on a nearby windowsill, mindful of her claws. “Soon! Thank you so much for your help, guys. The place looks great.” Everyone beamed, pausing to look around and admire their handiwork.

It did look great. The walls had been painted a lighter color, and the hallways were now well-lit, filled with softer, more pleasant decor. The clanging of machinery still echoed, but gone was the smoke and pollution; Entrapta had spent a long time working on a more clean form of energy, one that was better for magic and the planet and whatever.

Speaking of the pig-tailed princess—“Where’s Entrapta?” asked Catra. “She didn’t want to come and invent some bot to help us?”

Perfuma adjusted her girlfriend’s placement of the potted plant, trying to give it as much sunlight as possible. “She’s very busy with all her new ethical science projects now—”

“Semi-ethical,” corrected Bow, rubbing the back of his neck.

“—But she was invited to our celebration tomorrow night! Hopefully we will see her then.”

“Another party? It never ends, does it?” Catra said to Adora, who had come back to stand at her side.

Perfuma clasped her hands together. “Oh, this one will just be a small get-together. We’ll throw a big party once all of Scorpia’s citizens move in, but this is just for us princesses!”

“And Bow and Catra and Sea Hawk,” Mermista reminded her.

Perfuma shrugged. “Honorary princesses!”

Adora cleared her throat. “Alright, team, let’s get these last few things in place. We can pick up the little bit that’s left tomorrow morning. I think it’s bedtime.”

——

“And then I said, “Uh, your ship’s on fire!’”

The room burst in laughter. Catra wiped a tear from her eye as she cackled—there was something about Mermista’s deadpan delivery that made all her stories way funnier than anyone else’s. “And did you ever run into that pirate again?” she asked.

Sea Hawk spread his arms grandly. “Why, of course! He approached us a short time later to tell us how our genius and fighting prowess inspired him, and how he had decided to become an artist and build statues in our honor. To this day, his children sing our praises around campfires.”

At the same time, Mermista shook her head and said, “Nope. Never saw him again.”

This unleashed another wave of giggles. Still snickering, Catra leaned forward in her seat and took a cookie off the plate on the table in front of her. As she did so, Frosta opened her mouth wide and pointed wordlessly at it. Catra rolled her eyes and tossed a cookie at her. She caught it in her mouth and gave a muffled cheer as she chewed.

Bow rubbed his hands together. “Okay, guys, let’s get started.” He gestured at the table in front of them, which would soon be the center of Scorpia’s strategy room. Tonight, however, it was covered with a big game board and several playing pieces, dice, and stacks of cards. “Here’s how we play—”

“We’re here!”

Entrapta practically bounced into the room, Emily close at her side, beeping cheerfully. Wrong Hordak followed close behind them, smiling his typical sheepish smile and holding a tray crammed with an almost-impossible amount of tiny pink cupcakes.

Adora stood up to greet them. “Hey, guys! Welcome to…”

Her voice trailed off abruptly as the last guest entered. Catra felt her heart begin to pound; she stood up too, curling her claws into fists. Melog, who had been sleeping next to the sofa the Best Friend Squad was sharing, sprang to its feet, hissing. The rest of the group froze, exchanging shocked glances.

Hordak (the real one) stood in the doorway, somehow managing to look both awkward and stern. “Hello,” he said shortly, his deep voice echoing slightly.

When no one answered for a long, tension-filled minute, Entrapta looked rapidly between the group and Hordak, her eyes wide with confusion. “Sorry we’re late,” she said tentatively. “Did I…did I bring too many people?”

Mermista buried her head in her hands and let out a muffled scream. Sea Hawk patted her arm sympathetically.

Catra struggled to choose between saying What is he doing here and Absolutely fucking not and just straight-up attacking him. Judging by her facial expression, across the table Frosta was thinking along the same lines.

Entrapta twirled one of her ponytails around her nervously, her smile slowing sliding off her face the longer the silence dragged on. Next to her, Wrong Hordak shifted from foot to foot. “Uh…”

Perfuma hastily jumped up, a fake smile plastered on her face. “We’re so glad you could come!” she chirped, flinging her arms around her.

Wrong Hordak joined the hug. “I have missed you, brothers!” he told them tearfully.

At Perfuma’s pointed look, Scorpia and Frosta made space for the newcomers, bringing over more chairs.

“Will you be joining us, Hordak?” Catra asked icily, sneering at him.

“Be nice,” Bow whispered to her.

“She has a point,” Glimmer whispered back.

Hordak glared right back at her. “Entrapta invited me. Am I not welcome here?”

Adora managed to pick her jaw up off the floor. “Uhhh…no, um, take a seat. Bow was just about to tell us how this game works.” She sat down, pulling Catra down with her.

Bow started to explain, occasionally being interrupted by Frosta, Perfuma, and Sea Hawk, who all had their own opinions on how the rules should be interpreted. Meanwhile, Catra hissed quietly, “Are we seriously just going to play a board game with Hordak of all people?”

“He’s changed, I guess,” Adora murmured back.

On her other side, Glimmer rolled her eyes. “Allegedly.”

After the war had ended, the Rebellion didn’t really know what to do with Hordak. Sure, he had saved Entrapta and turned against Horde Prime, but they weren’t just going to let him sit back on his throne. Originally Catra had been in favor of dumping his ass in the Crimson Wastes, but Huntara was having none of it.

So eventually the princesses settled on letting him live in Dryl with Entrapta, as long as he swore never to hold any political power or territory for the rest of his life. An oath they would make sure he held, with magic to ensure it, if necessary.

“I don’t trust him,” Catra murmured.

Adora placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “Me neither, but Entrapta trusts him. And whatever makes her happy, we’ll support.”

They watched Hordak sneer as Perfuma tried to offer him some fruit juice. She frowned back at his rude behavior, huffing in that trying-to-be-dignified-yet-offended way of hers. Frosta looked like she wanted to stick his head in an ice block. Meanwhile, Entrapta was in full science mode, spilling out a detailed lecture about dice and probability.

“Even if the thing that makes her happy is Hordak?” grimaced Glimmer.

Adora sighed, rubbed her forehead. “Even so,” she said glumly.

Bow clapped his hands, signaling the end of his rules explanation. “Okay, does everyone get it?”

“Yes,” said Catra.

“Totally,” said Glimmer.

“Yeah…” said Adora.

Bow gave them a look that suggested he knew they hadn’t been listening at all. “Okay, let’s get started!”

Thankfully, Catra was able to figure it out as she went. The game was fairly simple: the players had to try to be the first one to make it around a map of Etheria, while fighting mythical monsters and challenges along the way. She leaned forward, smirking, her competitive nature taking over. “You’re all going down,” she said, making a show of cracking her knuckles.

Glimmer scooped up the dice and began to shake them. “As if!”

Scorpia laughed and shook her head. “No, guys, Perfuma is the champion at this game. She’s beaten me every time, she’s that amazing.”

The flower princess blushed a deep crimson. “Oh, Scorpia!” she trilled. “You are amazing too!”

Catra watched this play out fondly. Despite her and Scorpia’s…rocky history, she was genuinely sorry for all the pain she’d caused her. Although Scorpia had said she forgave her, there was a while after the war where things had been awkward, uncomfortable. She was happy to see that the former Force Captain had found someone who could make her happier than Catra ever could.

Hordak made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. It took her a minute to realize that he was laughing. “This is a childish competition,” he announced, sounding annoyed.

Mermista rested her chin on her palm. “You’re just mad that you couldn’t conquer Etheria and now you can’t win this board game.”

Hordak stiffened. “How dare—”

“Okay!” Bow interceded, his voice hinging on hysteria. “Glimmer will start!”

They went around in a circle, their game pieces slowly advancing with each roll of the dice. Catra was not thrilled when Glimmer rolled four tens in a row and she kept only rolling ones and twos. Thankfully, she was able to get Sparkles back when she pulled a Brightmoon-themed card and “teleported” her to the little red and yellow spot on the board that was supposed to represent the Crimson Wastes.

Scorpia was, unsurprisingly, the best sport about this. While everyone else soon succumbed to playfully cursing each other out as they scrambled to keep their game piece ahead of the group, Scorpia was the one congratulating everyone even when they fucked her over.

Even Perfuma huffed when Frosta got her stuck in the “Northern Reach”. “This is a betrayal,” she sniffed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I will never, ever forgive you.” A moment later, she cracked a smile and winked at the younger girl to let her know she was joking.

Wrong Hordak landed on a “Magic Zone” square and whipped out a card. “Do not worry, sister! This piece of paper says the Sorcerers’ Guild has granted me the power of…time travel! I will reverse your plight!” he declared. He reached down and daintily picked up Perfuma’s piece so he could place it back on the path.

Perfuma giggled. “My hero!”

“That was supposed to be used for your piece,” Entrapta pointed out, fidgeting with a small gear as she waited for her turn.

Adora shrugged. “Eh, let him do what he wants,” she said. She leaned back and not-so-casually draped her arm over Catra’s shoulders. She leaned into her girlfriend’s touch happily.

Entrapta pulled out the recorder she clearly kept with her at all times. “Observation number two hundred and fifty-three: when playing games, rules are to be broken at the player’s convenience.”

“Now you’ve got the spirit!” chuckled Sea Hawk, who was currently attempting to steal alien chips off of Mermista’s plate. Every time she caught him, he gave her the most lovestruck eyes he could pull off until she let her snag a chip.

Wrong Hordak handed the dice to Actual Hordak. “Your turn, brother!”

Hordak took the dice emotionlessly and rolled it. A five. He moved his game piece to the appropriate square.

“You landed on a runestone!” Perfuma cheered. “That means you get to move ahead five spaces!”

Hordak frowned down at the tiny drawing. “This pathetic image looks nothing like the real Black Garnet. It fails to capture the strength, the raw power that eminented from my runestone. How comical.”

“Your runestone?” Catra repeated, raising one eyebrow. “It’s not yours anymore, Hordak.”

He glowered at her. “In a better life, it was.”

Glimmer narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that—”

Entrapta scooped up the dice. “My turn!” she chirped.

Adora hastily stood up, gripping both Glimmer and Catra’s arms tightly. “We are going to get more fruit juice!” she said. “Bow, will you come with us?”

His grin was particularly strained. “Of course!”

They both looked at Glimmer. “Fiiiine,” she sighed, before transporting the Best Friend Squad to the nearby kitchen.  

Once there, Adora immediately turned to Catra and Glimmer. Melog slunk in after them, not wanted to be separated from its owner.

“He’s a terrible person!” protested Catra, already knowing what she was going to say. “I want him out of here.”

“Everyone did terrible things while they were in the Horde,” Bow reminded her gently as he poured more fruit juice into cups. Including you was the unspoken meaning behind that sentence. She looked down at the ground.

“But,” Bow said, handing her a cup, “what matters is that they’ve changed.”

Glimmer took the juice pitcher out of his hands, kissing his cheek. “I agree with Catra,” she told him as she poured. “Hordak might have said he was sorry, but he doesn’t act like it.”

“ And ,” added Catra, emboldened by someone siding with her, “he’s just straight up gross. How someone could possibly find that greasy-haired stick-up-his-ass attractive is just absolutely beyond me—”

“I know! He’s all—” Glimmer deepened her voice, hunched her shoulders. “—‘Pathetic princesses! You know nothing of true power! I am Hordak, Prince of Evil! Mwahahaha!’”

Catra laughed so hard she choked, and almost fell over.

Even Bow, who was rooting through the cabinets looking for more napkins, chuckled. “That’s cute,” he told her.

She winked at him. “ I’m cute.”

“You are.” He pulled her into a hug from behind, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

Adora took Catra’s hand. “Just please try to refrain from killing him for tonight,” she asked. “Afterwards, you and Glimmer and Mermista can start an I Hate Hordak club if you want.”

Catra tugged playfully on her ponytail. “Don’t tempt me. I will run that club.”

Her girlfriend poked her cheek in return before helping Glimmer and Bow stack the cups of fruit juice onto a tray. Catra grabbed another bag of alien chips, just in case.

“Alright,” said Adora, carefully balancing the heavily-stacked tray and ignoring everyone else eying her worriedly. “Ready?”

Bow winced as the tray wobbled dangerously when she took a step. “Adora, do you need—”

“I got it!”

Glimmer shook her head. “Maybe we’d better walk back to the strategy room. I don’t know if those cups can survive a teleportation trip.”

“We’ll be fine!” Adora assured her, and then promptly tripped, sending the tray flying.

——

“I’m really proud of you,” Adora told her as they waved goodbye to the group. They all had to return to their own kingdoms; it still wasn’t stable to be gone for too long.

Catra looked up at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you—” She was cut off by a yell of frustration coming from the direction of the skiff waiting to take their friends back to Dryl.

The two of them watched Wrong Hordak and Entrapta attempt to bodily lift Emily onto the skiff, which was hovering a few feet above the ground. The bot was nothing more than deadweight, beeping irritably.

“Her programming is due for an update soon,” Entrapta explained. “Sometimes she gets sulky like this.”

“She doesn’t wanna say goodbye to her friends,” Frosta said. She seemed particularly pouty herself. She had become particularly clingy after the war ended, and probably wasn’t happy about having to go back to her own kingdom alone after spending so much time with everyone.

Catra could relate.

“We’ll see everyone again soon,” Glimmer reminded her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re throwing a celebration once Perfuma and Scorpia get everyone settled here, remember?”

“Yeah,” said Frosta, sticking out her lip grumpily.

Wrong Hordak shrieked as one of Emily’s appendages kicked him in the face. He dropped her with a thud.

“Emily!” scolded Entrapta. “Not nice!” Scorpia and Perfuma moved to help them, which definitely made things more successful. Meanwhile, Hordak watched the whole scene unfold from inside the skiff, not bothering to offer his help.

“As I was saying,” Adora said, still chuckling, “I’m really proud of you, Catra. I—I know it can be hard to keep your anger in check when you’re dealing with…”

“With the former dictator of our childhood?” she finished. “I know.”

“You’ve come a long way.”

Catra laced their fingers together, leaned against her shoulder. “So have you.”

Mermista called Frosta over to their skiff, where Sea Hawk was helping her load up their bags. The game night victor gave Glimmer a hug, then Bow, Adora, and, to her surprise, Catra. “See you later, Horde Scum,” Frosta said, parroting her mentor.

Catra grinned back at her. “See you later, princess.”

From the skiff, Mermista tossed a wadded-up piece of paper to Catra. “I look forward to it!” she shouted as Sea Hawk helped Frosta into the skiff.

“Me too!” Catra shouted back.

Adora looked curiously at the paper ball. “What’s that?”

Catra handed it to her without saying a word, smirking. Adora unfolded it, revealing a flyer.

The I HATE HORDAK Club

Calling all Etherians!

Do YOU hate the former Horde Lord?

Do YOU fantasize about ruining his day?

If so, this is the place for you!!!

Meetings will be held at Brightmoon Castle. Any questions, please see Catra or Princess Mermista.

[gxccistyless]

Fine Line: The Divorce Series - Part three.

Here is the last part of fine line - the divorce series.  You can read part one here and part two here

I would LOVE to write some one shots based on Harry and Eliza. Feel free to send in requests!! 

That night after he left Eliza’s  Harry went home and sits in his shower for 45 minutes, he thought about going to the pub and then he thought about going to the liquor store to get a bottle of bourbon to drink it in its entirety all in an attempt to try and forget about the fact that he had just kissed Eliza. Harry decides against it, he calls his sponsor instead, his sponsor came to lend an ear and help him get through the night, without liquor. He and his sponsor had become close, he could trust his sponsor to be there for him without feeling the need to worry about his personal struggles with alcohol being leaked to the press.

Two weeks later he found himself at a social gathering at his sponsors house, a family garden party of sorts, alcohol free of course, and that’s where he first met  Olivia Dane. He and Olivia seemed to have an instant connection, no awkward spots in their conversations, no awkward silences where he felt the need to fill time with rambling. Conversation flowed freely. He left that night not having a single drop of alcohol, and with her number in his phone. One week later they were out to dinner ams six weeks after that had her on his arm down the red carpet. 

Eliza and Harry never discussed the kiss. For him it was something he was able to freely move passed, for her it was so much more. The kiss lingered on her mind for weeks and weeks she had so many unanswered questions, questions she knew she might never have answers to. The two had reverted back to old ways, going through third parties to organise Harry spending time with Koa and Lennon. Eliza didn’t love the idea of not having any contact with Harry, especially because they had just started going to therapy and she was really hoping that this would be the turning point in their co-parenting attempt. She was happy that their children had their father back though, every child deserves happy and healthy parents was her fundamental belief. That’s truly all she has ever wanted for Harry, for him to be happy and healthy. With Harry out of the picture for her, she spent more time getting closer to her now partner Andrew. She never spoke a word of the kiss. 

harrystyles . MINE .  LIked by jefezoff, oliviadane and 12,573,399 others.  The post took Eliza by surprise. She saw it on a Sunday morning as she was lazing in bed. She wanted to be happy for him, she wanted him to love and to be loved, but she still wanted him to love her. It was selfish of her, and she was aware of this. Selfish because she has and still was seeing someone else, so why shouldn’t he be able to do the same. But that kiss still lingered in the back of her mind.

She would come to find out some hours later that at some point during the day Harry had unfollowed her on all social media platforms. This hurt her more than it should have, Andrew copping the brunt of her anger, leading them to a huge argument where he had accused her of still being in love with Harry. I can’t be in this relationship with you Eliza, this isn’t healthy. You still love him and that’s okay, but let’s be honest here you can’t love him and still have me. He was right. They ended things that night.  Harry was thinking about introducing Olivia to his kids. It had been on his mind for a while, probably from the second week he had known her. Him co-parenting with Eliza made it harder for him to see Olivia on weekends. He had just gotten into such a good schedule with having the kids again he didn’t want to cancel visits, but he also didn’t want to lay in bed alone at night when they were asleep. Olivia didn’t fancy children very much, her opinion of children didn’t change just because they were linked to the man she was sleeping with. Harry waited three months before he organised a brunch date where she would meet the children. 

Anne had gone to Elizas to pick up the children just as she had been all this time. Koa had fallen ill and Eliza had almost canceled their visit but she had caught wind that the kids would be meeting Olivia and decided against canceling, but packing everything from his prescription medication to his favourite lovey just to be safe, writing out a note giving perfectly clear descriptions about the contents of the bag and their uses.  Olivia rolled her eyes and complained about said bag and note she seems so dramatic over a damn cold were her exact words. Harry didn’t say anything in return letting her comment slide. It was moments like this that he would come to later regret, letting things slide was in his opinion the way people got into bad behaviours, but he loved her and didn’t want to royally fuck this day up over a comment before it had even really started.  He seemed to think that the brunch went well, Olivia on the other hand was less than enthused. Koa had spilt his yoghurt, Lennon her orange juice, children were crying and there was snot everywhere. Despite her distaste for the children of the man she loved, she smiled through it. But really all she could think about was ways to get Harry to herself next weekend, child (and snot) free. She somehow managed it and the following weekend, an hour before Harry was scheduled to have the kids, he canceled. Something about a surprise weekend in Paris that had been sprung on him at the last minute was the reasoning Eliza had gotten off of Anne. 

oliviadane you had me at bonjour ❤️ Liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 5,452 others.

Harry’s visits with the children had become few and far between by late September. Fallon’s anniversary was fast approaching and Eliza was not coping. Anne, who had stayed in contact with her and loved her like a second daughter picked up on it. Eliza was out of sorts, and rightfully so. She had a lot on her plate between the twins and mentally trying to process the upcoming date. Harry on the other hand was off in a different country every week. Brushing off the responsibilities of parenthood had yet again come so easy to him, Eliza wasn’t surprised at this point. Old habits die hard. Anne had let her concerns about Eliza known to Gemma who went to visit to see for herself. Eliza was a mess, Anne had not been lying. Gemma gave Harry and absolute ear bashing on the phone, told him how much of a disappointment he was to her and their mother, how his kids would resent him some day, how he should be ashamed of himself. Gemmas words must have hit a nerve, or at least talked some sense into him. The following week Harry had done a complete 180 again and the visits with the children, much to Olivia’s dismay, were back on schedule. 

It started with small incidents at first. Koa coming home crying, Lennon expressing her disinterest in going to her fathers house for weekend visits. The weekend before Fallon’s anniversary was the last straw. Koa was screaming and crying as Anne’s car pulled away from Eliza’s house. Eliza could hear his blood curdling shrieks from down the road as she stood frozen in her driveway watching her babies drive away. She hated sending them to him when they were in such a state but she couldn’t figure out what the sudden change had been, they had always loved spending time with their dad until suddenly the didn’t. 

Harry came home from the studio at around lunchtime. His mum had brought the kids some hours earlier and Olivia had been with them for the few hours that they had been there. Harry did not expect to come home to two screaming, crying, hyperventilating children. How long have they been crying? Olivia rolled her eyes and told him they hadn’t shut up since they had gotten there, adding in that they had given her a splitting headache and she was very happy he was home because now they were his problem. Harry knew in that moment that he would have to break up with her. Her small comments about his children and the mother of his children needed to stop, he thought that once she got used to the idea of having the kids around and spending more time with them to get to know them a little better that the comments would stop, but they didn’t. He couldn’t change her, her hatred for children was so deep seeded there was no flipping this situation. He thought that perhaps they could spend one last night together and that he would break it off in the morning once the children had left, but then he noticed the bruises on the children’s arms. When he asked Lennon what had happened she simply pointed to Olivia and that was enough to send him into a fit. Olivia had her bags packed and was out of the house by nightfall. 

Elizas doorbell rang at approximately 7.45pm. She found Harry on her doorstep childless. She panicked thinking something had happened to the twins at first and he must have seen it in her face because he just about jumped at the chance to tell her that his mother was watching them. This had been the first time since the kiss that the two had seen each other.  She pulls the door open more than it had been and lets him stroll through. She makes him a coffee whilst she makes herself a tea and then he tells her everything. She wants to press charges, to hunt this lady down and give her a bruising. Harry tells her that the children need her to be with them at home and not in a jail cell, she decides for once that Harry may have the better judgement here and settles down with Harry promising to never bring her, or any other woman, around their kids every again.  The following weekend, the family of four had an afternoon picnic at Fallon’s grave. It was nothing special, Eliza and Harry both cried the whole time, holding each other extra tight. It had been a rough year for the both of them, they had come so far yet here they found themselves back where they belonged the most... in each other’s arms, surrounded by all their children. With Olivia gone, Koa and Lennon relaxed and seemed to be once again enjoying their time with Harry. Truth be told, she had been enjoying time with Harry too. He became a regular for breakfasts at Eliza’s, and then when the kids were at kindy he became a regular for lunch, and then dinner and then a regular in her bed. This has been over the course of a few months, Eliza made boundaries very early on and part of her stipulations were that they needed to have weekly therapy and not put too much pressure on themselves. In true Harry and Eliza style, the two didn’t take things too slow.

Harry and Eliza remarried in a causal courthouse ceremony in late January, his mum and Gemma were their witnesses. They went to a swanky restaurant to celebrate with the most expensive Sunday roast dinner Harry has ever had in his life. Harry surprised the public with the news, they had somehow managed to keep the rekindling of their relationship under wraps and the media and fans lost their minds in unison. The pair were a hot topic for days.

harrystyles Eliza Ray Styles, I am so lucky that you agreed to marry me twice in one lifetime. I don’t deserve you, but I will love you until the day I die. Love you, wife.  Liked by elizastyles, annetwist and 32,763,278 others.  A few weeks later, it was their turn to be surprised with news that they were once again expecting. Both Harry and Eliza were secretly relieved to only see one baby on the screen at the first appointment. Eliza decided to keep this pregnancy to herself, Harry had no tours and no press junkets and no radio interviews and the pair were both able to fully enjoy the pregnancy. Eliza went into labour in the early out of October 3rd, what would have been Fallon’s 6th birthday, and gave birth and home in the water just six hours later. They once again found themselves trending for days after the announcement of the birth of their son. 

elizastyles for the last nine months, we have been holding the news of this little blessing very close to our hearts. One month ago, Jairus Cohen Styles arrived three weeks early, happy and healthy, and shares a birthday with his Angel sister Fallon Noel. Our family is complete. We are both tired and in love ❤️ Liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 7,625,618 others. 

[literallywhyistaken]

When Remus Lupin walked into his classroom, he immediately knew that they would not get that much work done today.

How?

Well first of the entire class had broken up into friendship groups and were all talking around a phone, and, Remus knew exactly why.

Dammit, Sirus.

He had specifically told him to wait until the year 10s hade done their exam. Though to be fair he had been waiting to release that video for a while now.

Given the fact that there was still 5 minutes until the start of class, Remus walked over to his desk and started to prepare his lesson for the day. He was just about done when his phone buzzed.

Pads💗💗💗 - heeey babe sorry about releasing the video early. I just felt like I couldn't wait any more u know?

- how are the students?

- are you mad?

- oh god you haven't replied you are so mad at me

- I'm sorryyyy

Remus silently chuckled at the sight of his clingy overthinking adorable boyfriend freaking out even though he sent all of those texts in a span of 10 seconds.

Sirius had released a video 5 hours earlier, titled coming out. In just 1 hour it had gotten over 5 thousand views. When Remus had woken up, (obviously since Padfoot was not next to him,) he had come out and seen him pacing around nervously in the lounge room. Sirius had been worried that everything was going to backfire, and as soon as he had seen Remus he immediately burst into a rather large and repetitive rant, that was only silenced when Remus had wrapped his arms around him.

After he had calmed down, Remus told him off for posting it earlier than they agreed, as multiple students in his history class he knew were definitely in love with his boyfriend. At times it was really disturbing, (like when Sirius posts a shirtless pic on Instagram, and they are usually taken by Remus.) but most of the girls, have learnt to keep it on the down-low. And he had not wanted Sirius to post before the test in one of his classes.

Remus took his phone in two hands and replied,

Moony💗🌑💗 - don't worry I'm not mad.

- maybe a little grumpy but not mad.

Pads💗💗💗 - got it I will have chocolate when you get home.

- how are the kids?

Moony💗🌑💗 - distracted. I think I'm going to have to postpone the test.

Just as Remus press send, a shrill bell ripped through the air, making everyone jump out of their skins. Whereas Remus just stayed still and texted goodbye to Sirius. After both going to school and teaching here, you get used to it.

"Ok class, I want phones away and everything off your desks except for a pen or pencil." Remus walked up and down the rows, handing out test sheets.

When he got to the back of the last row, he stood behind one specific student. Mindy Mor. She was currently giggling at her phone like a lovesick teenage girl. When Remus looked over her shoulder to see what she was looking at, he inwardly cringed. Mindy had screenshotted all of the shirtless pictures from Sirius Instagram and was currently zooming in on Remus's boyfriend's abs. Even though he would never admit it, he didn't blame her. He was very lucky.

"Phone Mindy," Remus demanded. He took her phone, and ignoring her grumbling, and placed a test in front of her.

"You can have this back at the end of the day."

------------------------------------------------------

For the rest of the week, Remus kept hearing ridiculous rumours about the one and only, Sirus Black.

The day of the test Remus had come home to a ridiculously happy Sirius, as the majority of his subscribers had accepted him and even asked if he was dating anyone. And of course, he slipped up and said that yes indeed he dating someone, but did not give way who.

Since then Remus has heard nothing but rumours about who he could be dating. Some of them were quite funny actually. Such as Sirus dating fellow marauder, James Potter. (Remus had almost snorted at that one.)

When he informed James and Sirius about it, it sparked a long debate between the two on whether James could indeed 'score' Sirius. (Remus had to eventually drag Sirius out so that Harry could be put to bed and everyone could have dinner.)

However, it did have some downsides. Somehow, someone had found out that Sirius used to go to this school and that one of the teachers, Minerva McGonagall had taught him. Then that leads to them finding out that James, Sirus, Remus and Peter had all been best friends when they were at school. However, Remus managed to dodge the questions, by insisting that they were no longer in contact.

("no Mindy I cannot give you Sirus Blacks number so you can confess your undying love. I said no Mindy.")

Then Sirus released a new video titled: MARAUDERS BACK TOGETHER AGAIN

In it, it just had Sirius, James, and Peter catching and pretending that they hadn't seen each other since high school.

"Hey Moony why arent you going to be in the video again?" James questioned as Sirius set up the camera. James and Peter had gotten here an hour early accidentally. Now while Sirius was setting up, they were all sitting in the lounge room and the kitchen talking. Remus was sitting on the counter facing James, who was on the floor playing with Harry and Peter who was curled up in an armchair.

"If I'm in the video then I will get pestered with questions from my students," Remus answered. "And like half of the girls in 3 of my classes are absolutely in love with my boyfriend!" he said gesturing to Sirius.

James smirked, as Sirius turned around and walked into the kitchen.

"You jealous Moony?" James teased, resulting in a very colourful hand gesture thrown his way.

"Aww don't worry Re. I'm not going anywhere." Sirius said from behind Remus, pecking him on his temple.

"Oh come on guys get a room. Harry's here for god's sake!"

------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Remus woke up with Sirius's arms wrapped around his waist. It appeared that they had both slept through the alarm due to them.........not getting much sleep.

In result to the extra sleep the couple had earned, Remus missed the first 5 minutes of his first lesson. And so he had to be dropped off, by Sirius.

Now it is a well-known fact that Sirius Black drives a Porsche 550 Spyder. Whatever that is. And of course all the students in the school new that Sirius rode that exact car, so that was a little bit of a problem when they rode up into the car park, and there were still kids in the playground.

Sirius, knowing his boyfriends need for privacy, was wearing a cap to cover his head.

However, being a Black comes with a flair for the dramatic. So before Remus had the chance to jump out of the car, Sirius grabbed his shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss. It was short but sweet.

When Sirius pulled away, he nodded towards the school building and said,

"You'd better get going. Love you!"

Remus smiled as he climbed out of the car.

"Love you too."

------------------------------------------------------

Remus thought everything was ok. He had listened to all the conversations shooting around his classroom before the first break, and there was nothing about him.

When he went to enter the teacher's lounge, he was suddenly stopped right outside the door by two girls from the school newspaper.

"Hello, ladies... can I help you with something?" Remus asked hesitantly.

"Sir, you were late for school, yes?" One of them asked, who Remus remembered as Evie.

"Only five minutes," Remus replied.

"And you were dropped off by your boyfriend, right?" Evie pressed

"May I ask where this is going?" Remus said tying to cover up the fact that his heart had started to beat faster and his palms had started to sweat.

"Well the car that you drove here in is a Porsche 550 Spyder, and it is a well-known fact that you both knew Sirius Black and that Sirius Black drives a Porsche 550 Spyder. So I just wanted to ask Mr Lupin, are you dating Sirius Black?"

Remus hesitated.

"No. And I would appreciate it if you didn't ask me again."

------------------------------------------------------

For the next two weeks, Remus kept getting asked question after question after question.

"Are you dating Sirius Black?"

"Do you still talk to Sirius Black?"

"Can you help me meet Sirius Black?"

And to make matters worse, one specifically creepy student had made an announcement at the start of one of his classes saying that even though their teacher had denied that he was dating Sirius, he had made a fanfiction about the two of them and posted it on Wattpad.

Remus had looked at it, and it already had 100K views.

Remus was tired. He was getting questioned every day at work, and all over social media. Everyone had noticed, and he knew that Sirius was worried, but he hadn't said anything yet.

It was Friday, two days before Sirus and Remus's 6th anniversary. Every year they do something big, whether it is with other people or together. Normally, Remus gets more excited as the day gets closer. However, now he was either stressing out about going back to school or staring into space. And Sirius was getting really worried.

Remus was sitting on the dining room table with both hands wrapped around a mug. Its winter at the moment so Remus has his usual. Earl Grey.

When Sirius gets home from James and Lily's house it Godric Hollow, he walks inside the apartment and sees him sitting there staring off into space. He immediately knows what he has to do. (Well not immediately, but if you ask he will just deny it.) Sirius dumps his bag on the kitchen counter and walks over and sits next to him.

"Re."

Remus's head shoots up and he blinks a couple of times like he's coming out of a daze.

"Hmmm"

"Ok, what's wrong. And don't say nothing, you know that I know when your lying.

Remus sighed and looked back down at the table.

"It's just that I'm getting constantly questioned at work, I mean even my colleagues, other teachers are asking me now!! Its just....a lot."

Sirius sighed. He hated seeing the love of his life so upset and being helpless.

He opened his mouth as so try and say something comforting when Remus blurted out,

"I want to tell people. And no not our friends, I am aware that they already know, I meant all your subscribes."

Sirius's mouth fell open. He had approached Remus on the topic of telling people multiple times both before and after he had come out to people on youtube. And every time Remus had turned him down.

A huge grin spread over Sirius's face and he slipped down on to the floor and crouched in front of Remus's chair.

"Really? You actually want your students to know? Are you sure?"

"I mean I think so. I don't think I could hold it any much longer anyway." Remus replied a sheepish grin growing on his face.

Sirius couldn't stop the smile growing bigger on his face matching Remus.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Then Sirius closed the gap between them and the world around them fell quiet.

------------------------------------------------------

Sirius placed the camera on the cupboard in front of their bed and turned the camera on. He then turned around and moved all the photos of him and Remus out of the way.

"Hey Siri, you want some coffee?" Remus yelled from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'd love some thanks, babe!" Sirius replied.

Sirius finished setting up the room and then started to walk out into the lounge room. After Remus had agreed to tell Sirius's fans that they were dating, they had both stayed up half the night trying to plan the perfect revel video. And then when they were getting ready for bed, Sirius had thought of the perfect idea.

Sirius was going to do a live QandA session. Even though Remus was convinced, that someone would ask whether they were dating, Sirius had insisted on a backup plan. So if no one asked 2 minutes into the live, then James, who would also be there, ("Why would you want to be there James??" "Because of the drama Moony. Why else??") would create a fake fan account and ask the question.

Sirius had thought about doing it the day after their anniversary, (as he knows how much of a romantic his boyfriend is.) but Remus wanted to do it on their anniversary.

I mean what would be more romantic than confessing your love for each other in front of thousands of people? And while most likely being recorded?

Sirius walked into the kitchen just as Remus was putting their tea and coffee down on the bench.

Sirius smiled as Remus put both milk and sugar into his coffee, (because you cannot convince me that no matter how hard he tries to be a badass that he is really a softie) and slid the mug across the bench.

Remus then turned back around smirking at him, walking towards the fridge for the milk."What's the time? When do you have to start the live?" Remus asked innocently pouring milk into his mug.

"Ummm" Sirius replied quickly checking his watch for the time." it's 3:28. I need to start the live at 3:30 and I should be out here at least by 4:00." He said as he glanced up at his boyfriend raising his coffee to his mouth to take a sip.

Remus stared at him blankly while Sirius glanced around the room wondering why Remus was looking at him like that. (he usually looked at him another way)

"It's 3:30!!! Get in there!! I'll start cooking and, I promise to attempt to not burn the kitchen down. I remember what happened last time." He added as Sirius opened his mouth to interject.

Sirius closed his mouth and smiled, nodding and turning back around to run into the pair's bedroom.

"Hey! I think you forgot something!" Remus cried out as soon he had left the room.

At the sound of his voice, Sirius poked his head back into the doorway with a curious expression on his face.

Keeping that expression on his face, he crept forward towards a visibly confused Remus. Then, he crept up next to him and pecked a kiss on his temple. And then, promptly, ran away.

Remus stood frozen for about 2 seconds before yelling back,

"No! Your coffee!"

"Merlin. No respect." He muttered.

------------------------------------------------------

Sirius plunked himself down on the end of the couple's bed, leaning forward and switching the camera on.

He waited for a few seconds, letting people on first before saying,

"Hey, guys welcome to my live QandA and before anyone asks, no Prongs is not here today. He has decided to be a little shit and hang out with his kid. You guys remember Harry."

Sirius smiled at the thought of Harry, (and of course, insulting James.

He peered at the screen and smirked when he saw a comment from the man in question expressing his outrage for the name-calling.

Smiling he sat back again and spoke,

"Ok so I'm going to let you guys into the live one at a time to ask one question, (it's on Instagram) so start requesting!"

Sirius had had about 25 questions before he got to the one he was looking for. And he had been asked some odd questions to. One girl who came on the live was wearing such revelling clothes that she basically had a bikini on. And it gets worse.

Her question was whether or not he could take his shirt off. As soon as she had finished speaking, Padfoot heard a loud indignant and outraged cry coming from the kitchen. He turned his head towards the sound chuckling at Moonys antics.

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT MINDY! KICK HER OF THE DAMM LIVE SIRIUS!!"

He was still smiling as he turned back around, but it vanished as soon as he saw the screen again. Immediately, like a reflex, he leaned forward and kicked her off the live. He could sense Remus's sigh of relief.

He then proceeded to make a speech about not doing that. Around 10 minutes after that a girl with glasses and a notepad came on who Sirius vaguely recognised as Evie from Hogwarts.

"Hi there kiddo, what's your question," Sirius asked almost dreading what was coming up.

"Hi Mr Black I was just wondering-"

"Oh no. No Mr, please. Makes me feel old. Just call me Sirius." He insisted holding a hand up to the camera.

"Oh ok." She replied looking a little bit surprised.

"Well my name is Evie Johnson, and I go to Hogwarts Secondary School. I believe that you went there as well. Oh no that's not my question"

She added as Sirius opened his mouth.

"And when you were there, according to my research, your group of friends was James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. Now as I'm sure you know Mr Lupin is a teacher at Hogwarts, a history teacher and rumours have been flowing around the school-"

"You want to know if Remus and I are dating," Sirius smirked.

"Well yes," Evie said looking a bit disgruntled at being interrupted. A giddy feeling erupted in Sirius's stomach as he answered,

"Well how about I show you. Then you can decide for yourself."

Sirius got up and walked out to the kitchen grabbing the camera as he went.

"Ok, Evie I'm going to disconnect you from the live that was a lovely question, I was honestly hoping for it. Ok! guys, my boyfriend is in the kitchen attempting to make dinner, ("last time he tried he almost burned down the kitchen and he definitely destroyed his eyebrows.") and I or we, I guess, are going to surprise him."

This next bit is from a viewers perspective.

Sirius placed the camera in front of the T.V and stuck his thumbs up at the camera before standing up and rubbing his hands together.

Behind him was the kitchen where a man in his early 30s was cooking with his back to the camera.

Oliver looked at the screen, and read the comments as Sirius prepared to walk over to the mystery man who was supposedly his idols boyfriend.

- oh my god i'm so jealous I wonder who it is

- I bet 50 pounds that its Mr Lupin

- OH MY GOD IM ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT JUST TELL US

Oliver of course had no idea who this Mr lupin was. He didn't go to Hogmarts Secondary School or whatever it was called. But he was still extremely curious to know.

The man turned around and walked to the front of the counter and turned to face the camera side-on, continuing to cook, seemingly not noticing Sirius and the camera.

As soon as the mystery man's face was revealed to the camera the live was flooded with comments such as:

- HOLY SHIT ITS MR LUPIN

- THAT'S MY HISTORY TEACHER IDIOTS

-OMG CALLED IT!

They were basically all along those lines. The man continued to cook, somehow oblivious to the chaotic live over here.

Sirius walked up behind the man and wrapped his arms around his waist. Immediately the man smiled and leaned back into Sirius.

Oliver had to admit they were quite cute.

Then Sirius leaned forward a little bit more and whispered something in his ear. The man, (supposedly Remus Lupin,) smiled and leaned into him more.

To Oliver, it looked like they were really in love, and if that really is Remus Lupin, then they would have been in love for a long time.

He glanced back down at the comments and saw that the theme of them hadn't changed. People were still expressing their shock.

Somehow.

When he looked back up at the couple he saw Sirius laughed at something that his boyfriend had said.

Remus then turned around and wrapped his arms around Sirius's neck, and Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist.

Sirius closed the distance between them and kissed him softly as Remus melted into the kiss. Remus arms tightened around Padfoots neck, and Sirius smiled into the kiss.

The theme of the comments had changed into both awwwww and ewwwww apparently some of Mr Lupins students don't really want to see him making out with his boyfriend.

Suddenly the screen went black and the live ended.

------------------------------------------------------

Remus went back to work the next day feeling both nervous and excited. Excited, because for the first time since Sirius started his YouTube channel, he didn't have to hide who he was dating. (I mean he didn't usually tell them, but we all know Remus. He doesn't like lying.)

And nervous because, well I think that's obvious. He had gotten several emails from his students in multiple classes, plus they had also posted something to Google Classroom.

Remus had made sure to get to the school early to avoid any unwanted attention from students in the schoolyard. He walked straight through the school, into the classroom, only pausing to wave or say hello to specific teachers.

When he reached his room, he finished setting up the lesson and was writing the date on the board when a student came into the classroom. He didn't see who it was, they disappeared out of his view before he had a chance to see their face. He finished writing the date up and turned around saying

"Hello, welcome back. If you just take a seat the bell will be going soon-"

In front of his desk stood a stony-faced Mindy, with her posse behind her.

"Can I help you with something Ms More?"

"Yes, I believe you can sir." She replied. "Why didn't you tell us that you are dating Sirius Black??" She demanded, leaning slightly towards him accusatorially.

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well given the fact that is my personal business I really didn't see the need," Remus replied calmly as he sat down on his desk.

"But sir that's not fair. I mean we have a right to know and not find out on some live video-"

"And why is my life and who I'm dating any concern of yours?" Remus said fiercely, cutting her off and standing back up and placing his hands on the desk looking down at the teen.

Mindy immediately backed of a flash of regret shooting across her face.

"Oh no sir I didn't mean it like that-"

"Really Mindy. Then I wonder how you meant because I don't see how else that could be taken."

Before Mindy could open her mouth to defend her self, Remus snapped out:

"Enough. Thats detention. Go sit down."

When Mindy opened her mouth to complain, Remus held up his finger as if saying wait for it, then suddenly the ear-splitting bell reverberated through the walls and Mindy shut her mouth and sat down.

------------------------------------------------------

When he finally got his class to sit down and shut up, he started his lesson on the suffragette movement. (Because we all know that Remus is a massive feminist,) However halfway through, he noticed that the entire class was either talking or giggling at their computer screens. So, continuing to talk about the suffragettes, he walked up the side row, and stood behind one student who was staring at their laptop. Except they weren't staring at their laptop. they had their phone out, and were re-watching Sirius's live from Saturday.

Sighing, Remus leaned forward and snatched the phone out of the kids hands, saying on the way back to the front of the class,

"You can have this back later."

"Now," Remus announced as he leaned on the back of his desk facing the front of the class, "As it is very clear that none of you are focusing, you can all ask 15 questions."

No one moved, they just all stared at him blankly.

Remus sighed and then added, "personal questions allowed."

Exactly 15 hands shot up.

Surprised, Remus hesitated before choosing a girl in the second row named Jessie.

"Jessie." Remus said pointing at her to continue.

Putting her hand down she asked, "Sir, are you really dating Sirius Black?"

Remus breathed out a laugh, and replied with the words he never thought that he would say.

"Yes. I am."

[frightfurtabby]

Himikiyo Week 2021 Day 2! Bookstore Ambience

// Likewise with yesterdays entry, amino crossposting to be added later. i feel this one’s pretty damn cute

later edit- all links will be collected later in an individual post that will act as a guide/directory.

Word count: 1837

Link

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/34138636

Amino- https://aminoapps.com/c/danganronpa/page/blog/himikiyo-week-day-2-bookstore-ambience/d3DX_eE8Sbum1JjvngPBwrwNV6mNR1eD7WR

A first date, depending on who you asked, was either more nerve wracking or less so than you expect. Kiyo wasn’t sure which they’d agree with but nonetheless they were fretting. Pacing back and forth in their office at the university. A cute teacher from another department had ended up inviting them out on a date, like a date date. They’d been on the job for a few years now but hardly socialized much outside the other anthropology staff who were understanding of at least some of their eccentricities.

Then just before the start of the previous semester the college hired a new batch of professors including one taking a spot over in the English department in a room in just the opposite hall. So they would see her often in the mornings downstairs in line at Coffee place, usually she was to the back of the line and they’d cross paths when Kiyo was going up with their usual order. The first sighting was like this, and entirely by chance as the anthropologist had to turn to answer a colleague briefly and eye contact was made with the cute redhead in line just over the other’s shoulder, Himiko Yumeno.  

They soon hit it off, spending time talking to each other in between class periods in one room, the other, or in the previously mentioned cafe. About work, future plans, what they did in their spare time. Kiyo was always busy doing work, research generally and most of their interests revolved around it and there were days in a row just immersing themself in study. It was like that for as long as they could remember, though what in particular they were fascinated by changed over time.

Legends of monsters, legends of heroes, artifacts left behind, Asia, North America, Africa, they’d deep dive into something and come out the other end being aware of enough to teach their students in extreme detail. Little did they know at the time but in a moment of serendipity just before they met Himiko they felt a pull toward researching the history of magic. And then it turned out that she was interested in that as well.

There were very few days they didn’t find a chance to talk. They had a shared routine every day, and now was a step up.

Kiyo adjusted their collar and tie before straightening out the skirt a bit more and wondered if it was all a little too formal and they were overthinking this. They did tend to do that kind of thing after all. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much of an issue, Himiko was definitely understanding of that kind of thing, they knew that much already. There were also the times they’d complained of that trait and she called it “adorable.”

It was to a bookstore with a cafe in it, so they didn’t need to be terribly formal. Kiyo remembered that it was taking place at around 8 tonight and looked over at the clock and realized that it was much sooner than they thought. She would be showing up any moment. Time went somewhere while they were lost in thought so they quickly put on their shoes, grabbed an umbrella just in case and headed out to the bus stop that was only a few blocks away.

The couple met while Himiko was sitting on the bench still, tapping away at her phone to text Kiyo to make sure everything was alright.

She looked up after hearing footsteps and sighed in relief. “You never seemed much like the type to show up late.”

“My apologies.”

“You also never seemed like the type to straight up ditch either, so…” she blushed and looked over down sheepishly. “I was getting a little worried something happened and you couldn’t pick me up as soon.”

“I got a bit distracted. I-” their explanation started as they took a break with her to sit and rest, arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“Was trying to make yourself extra cute for me?” the redhead teased, putting an arm around them right back and leaning in cutely..

“I… yes, I won’t deny that.” It was a cloudy evening and the autumn breeze blew downed leaves past where they had sat and began to cuddle on the bench. “You know how it is sometimes.”

“Yeah, I remember the time you genuinely didn’t grasp that the poetry I had been showing you for your input was, in fact, about you.”

Kiyo chuckled. “Oh god yeah, that took me a few to even have an inkling of it going on. I just might be the most useless lesbian ever.”

“Mmm, you’re useful for warmth sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Hehe, y-you know what I mean. Like right now, it’s a bit chilly but you being here makes it not so bad.” The first date was finally here, after they had planned it to be a day they were both free. So the woman was going to savor every moment of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The couple approached the doors of the date location holding hands, under the umbrella. Skin made cold by the walk over in spite of hands sharing warmth. Small flecks of rain along the top of the umbrella dripped down. Inside, Kiyo instantly felt the warmth of the building. It wasn’t a long trek at all, if it was they would have done this by car. Everything around here was luckily close to the campus, including home.

The umbrella was put back in its holder, so as not to drip all over the place. It would be rude to do so.

Kiyo turns and gives Himiko a peck on the cheeks. “Food and coffee first, darling?”

The shorter woman nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

It was just to the back left corner from the entrance. Rows and rows of enticing books had to be passed by before you could reach it, but who would come and not buy anything? Romance, sci-fi and fantasy, Manga and light novels too were all present.

After ordering, they got one booth to share, and sat down at the same side. Kiyo’s umbrella, bag, and jacket sat on the ground on the very inside corner. Everything they had ordered would be coming up, and luckily there wasn’t that much of a line on evening’s like this. The barista was even a student from university and had recognized them. It was awkward at first but Kiyo joked that it would be interesting to see which class would become fully aware they were dating first.”Let’s turn it into an experiment. Who has more Gossips attending their lectures?”

And they were glad that put her more at ease. It felt nice gently rubbing Himiko’s shoulder with their hand as she leaned in and placed a kiss on their cheek.

“Well, I sure hope it’s not mine. That’d be a pain.” she said to play into the gag a bit more. “Besides, it’d be fitting for your class.”

Kiyo feigned offense, mock gasping “Hey now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just you observant types over in anthropology, always wanting to know everything you can about how people work. I can see that tendency being correlated.”

They had told her previously they thought about doing more research for a paper about something like that after listening to some of their colleagues, ironic though it may be, gossipping about student rumors.

“Point taken.” Kiyo returned her smooch with their own, directly on her forehead.

The coffee and tea arrived first. So the talk continued with the added benefit of drinks. Himiko changed the subject to books on her to-read list. “You know there’s this new book I’ve been thinking of assigning in a future quarter, I’d have to read it first.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s about this girl that finds out that she has magical powers and gets some training, eventually she encounters a strange, beautiful spirit and they fall in love. I always feel like courses need a little more gay love. Oh, and the author is too, so the representation is genuine.”

KIyo nodded and listened. “That’s very good. Perhaps we’ll get a couple copies? I’ll pay. I’ll also be getting a few things that have been on my list for a while.”

They held hands, sat so close. Hans resting between both of their legs. It was such a good time to fit in cuddling any time there was a little lull in the action of the date. Some time to lazily place kisses.

Right on cue the meal arrived. Breakfast for dinner was a classic, from the bacon egg and cheese on croissant to the pie slices as a dessert. Reluctantly, they separated to more easily eat and drink.

“This is as good as it usually is, mmm, actually, it’s even better.” Himiko said, taking their hand again.

“I agree. I don’t know if coming alone will cut it for me any more.” Kiyo leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Shall we move on to the next leg, or savor this moment some more?”

The food was finished or wrapped up for later.

After a few more minutes cuddling in the booth, the couple looked through the aisles closer to the cafe portion first and Kiyo’s stack started, growing through each section until they had to split the load and have Himiko carry some.

“Sheesh, I thought you were only getting a few.” she complained, intending it to be lighthearted.

“My list is quite long.” Kiyo replied with a chuckle.

“Guess this is why you needed the bag then. If this was only a few I have to imagine it’s as long as you are.”

“Oh my~” the tall one replied, complete with suggestive eyebrow wiggling.

“Kiyo! Not like that, I meant your height. Did Iruma from the Engineering department teach you that one?”

As that line of discussion thankfully ceased the couple came to the one Himiko was looking for, it was up front on the display close to the cashier. She picked up one copy and put it on her pile and handed the second over to Kiyo.

“We could have, like, a little book club date. Just the two of us.” If only it weren’t so difficult to nuzzle close due to all these books, she thought.

“I think I’d enjoy that. Your company is always a pleasure darling.” They briefly leaned up close, cutely brushing against her before leading the way to check out.

Himiko blushed. “Yeah this was nice, we should do it more often.”

With a couple of coupons Kiyo kept in their pocket the price was cut down, but still cracked 12,000 yen. They stuffed the back full and carried it over their shoulder. Umbrella similarly along their back for if it would be needed again.

Arms wrapped around each other, the couple walked out and noticed the rain had stopped for now, and it would be dry on the bus trips back home.