#probably a mess ive been writing it on and off for ages sorry

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Blood

Tags/warnings: lingerie kink, unprotected anal sex, little bit of fluff. Written based on a prompt from @murdock-and-the-sea for @frattweek ! 😀 "Would Frankie like it if Matt surprised him by wearing lace boxer briefs? 👀"

Sorry for any mistakes.

It hadn't got past Frank that there was something off that evening on patrol, but he couldn't put a finger on what exactly it was. The devil was out in full force, and even though he was always non-lethal in his means, Matt was taking no prisoners… and what surprised Frank more was even when he was kicking criminal ass and doing his adorable little backflips he was also flirting shamelessly with him. In front of people. Well, assholes.

When the streets quietened and the sirens faded, all that was left were him and Frank, both standing on a rooftop marked in blood. Matt's chest and shoulders heaved as he panted, his lip curling with a slight snarl as he roughly pulled the cowl from his face as if it was hindering him. Frank still kept his distance as Matt tilted his head to the side in that imitable way, licking his tongue over his lips like he was scoping out prey. It wasn't something Frank disliked, in fact it excited him, but it was something he'd only tolerate from a scarce few.

“‘The hell's got your panties all in a bunch?” He asks, wiping some of the blood away from his nose.

“Funny you should say that.” Matt's lips are slightly parted, breath puffing past them from prior exertion. His lips twist into a smirk.

“Come and get me.”

Frank snorts. “Say that again, altar boy?”

He's already game for this challenge. After the night of relentless teasing he would love nothing more than to shut that damn sweet mouth up with his own, and yeah, maybe some other things.

Matt throws his helmet off to the side, rolling his shoulders. “Get. Me.” he growls, and suddenly Frank is like a coiled spring bursting forward, lunging towards him as the devil takes off leaping across to the next roof.

It's not long in the frantic chase until Frank realises he's being led back towards home, and when he thunders down the stairs (discarded helmet in hand) his infuriatingly hot target is ready and waiting, leaning up against the kitchen counter looking smug.

“You getting slow, Frank?”

Frank chuckles as he moves closer. “Nah, just pickin’ up after you as usual.” He says, casually throwing the helmet onto the couch.

“Well, that meant you didn't get me.” Matt taunts. He slides a hand along the counter, smoothly pivoting on his feet to turn and stick his ass out in Frank's direction.

“Oh,” Frank says flatly, clamping his hands firmly around Matt's hips, “I think I've got you now.” He purrs low, his chin wedged into the crook of Matt's neck like it belongs there. “So what's with you tonight, huh? You're all… riled up ‘bout somethin'.”

With Frank's scruff scratching his skin and his warm breath tickling at his ear, Matt's quickly ripping off his gloves so he can reach back and feel the heat of the other man right under his fingertips. “Can’t I just be riled up about you?”

Frank runs his fingers up the front of the blood-red suit, pressing his blunt nails into the fabric over Matt's nipples making him bite back a barely audible moan.

“Hmm, I guess so.”

Frank's hands continue to trace their way to the back of Matt's neck, taking a hold of and dragging down the zipper of his suit as Matt is working on toeing off his boots at the same time.

“Hmm,” Frank hums, his fingers following the line of his spine until he reaches the small of his back, pushing the suit fabric down to free his hands and then halting.

Frank’s brows arch up the highest they've ever gone as he smooths his calloused fingers over something new, the black lace that's covering the familiar curve of Matt's pert ass cheeks and the tops of his thick thighs. A pretty package all wrapped up… just for him.

“W-wha-where'd you get these?” he manages to stammer out.

These ‘invitations’ came often from Matt, subtle and some not so subtle hints that would regularly make Frank lose his goddamn mind, and that usually resulted in Matt reduced to a satisfied, messy wreck.

Matt arches his back a little more, pushing into Frank's currently far too gentle touch. “Does it matter?”

He's right, Frank is far too busy enjoying the feel and look of it all to care about details. Tracing the patterns that stretch over his private domain.

“Guess not…”

Frank yanks the rest of the suit down to Matt's ankles, bunching it there and rendering him temporarily immobile. He lifts his hand away before swiftly smacking it down sharply on Matt's perfect ass making him hiss out.

“Fuck!”

“Ain't you just full of surprises. That too hard for ya, sweetheart?”

Matt chuckles then, shaking his head back and forth. He's trapped, right where he wants to be. “Not even close.”

Frank swiftly reaches around, cupping the bulge of Matt's obvious erection that strains hard against the soft lace. A grin splits his face as a slight whine escapes Matt's throat..

“Liar.”

He hoists him easily over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, striding purposefully to the bedroom, throwing him down on the mattress and hastily stripping the rest of that dumb red suit off as well as his own clothing. The lacey shorts are the trigger that turns Frank into an animal, mounting the Devil of Hell's Kitchen like a predator toying with his prey.

He wrecks them completely, ripping them apart with his teeth and hands, tongue thrusting through the tear and teasing that tight little furl of muscle revealed to him. Frank takes him apart, roughly eating Matt out until he's almost screaming from the intensity of stimulation. Matt feels like he's going to combust, tears soaking into the pillow from the relentless prodding and lapping of Frank's tongue, the hot burn of his beard against his sensitive skin, and the possessive grip of his strong hands as they spread his ass cheeks open until Matt's cock twitches and drools all over the remnants of black lace underneath him.

He's a picture. Skin flushed pink, hair mussed as he lays on his front with his head turned to the side, breathing shallow and fast. He can sense the tension and power in the muscles of Frank's shoulders as he moves. Matt briefly battles with letting his own body go lax and submissive like he needs to, and being a contrary sonofabitch and fighting this.

“I got you, I got you…” Frank repeats, pulling Matt's hips back gently and it's the truth, he has him, he's all Frank's and whatever he wants to do with him. Giving in makes Matt feel so untethered, but despite how far gone he is already, Matt is still in tune with his surroundings, and his surroundings are Frank. He smells him, clean even underneath the blood and the new sheen of salt sweat that's just starting to break over his brow and chest. He feels him warm, warmer still as he returns from reaching to the bedside cabinet for something. He knows it's the lube and yet there's something else missing, something he can't smell that causes Matt to groan in absolute anticipation.

He relishes in the soothing sting of cool lube before the hot press of the other man's cock head slowly stretches him open, filling him so full his eyes roll back into his head. It's raw and bare, no barriers between them. Frank wants to make him feel every single element of him, and Matt is so weak and willing for it.

The sure, slow and steady motion of Frank's hips rolling into him kicks up pleasurable embers around the base of Matt's spine into hot sparks that seem to set every other part of him ablaze in turn like a wildfire through the underbrush.

“Oh god, you're too much- god, I can't, I-”

Frank softly curls over his back in answer, one arm sliding around under Matt's chest to lift him slightly. “Shh-shh,” his own voice is starting to strain. “Told ya I got you…”

Frank observes the beauty in the shifting and firming of Matt's back and arms muscles, the thick raised veins in his forearms as his hands splay out and claw into the sheets trying to grab an anchor somewhere.

If Matt could even speak he'd swear their very atoms were merging, that you couldn't tell where he ended and Frank began.

When Frank pulls him up flush with Matt's back against his broad chest, skin to skin, he's close. Frank's thick cock is hitting a new angle of ecstasy, heavy balls pounding against him in a maddening rhythm, his own drawn up tight, ready for release at any moment.

One of Frank's big paws is still wrapped firm around him, the fingers sneaking up and making his body shudder as he teasingly circles a nipple. The other is curling around his neck, thick fingers exerting just enough pressure for Matt to continue to communicate his want in needy grunts and moans until Frank knows almost exactly when he's about to break.

Frank kisses his neck, it's more mouthing at his skin than kissing at this point, a gentle scrape of teeth becoming sharper and harder as he starts coming inside him. Matt gasps suddenly, his body jerking in his hold as he feels Frank pulse inside, his fingers digging in as he holds onto him so tightly as he's filling him up with a strangled groan. He doesn't stop, burying his cock so deep, his chin resting in the crook of Matt's neck and watching him cover the remains of those black shorts in drips of thick creamy white.

“Attaboy…” Frank murmurs in encouragement as he slows down, his hot breath in Matt's ear, surprisingly gentle as he's bringing him back from blissful oblivion.

“F- Frank-” Matt mumbles, those beautiful hazel eyes still softly closed. His throat bobs as he swallows, mouth dropping open to speak.

“Just breathe, sweetheart.” Frank husks, as he's gradually softening inside him enough to slip out. He guides Matt to lie down, settling beside him, a hand running through his hair helping him ground again.

“You got me.” Matt says eventually. His body sinking into the mattress, he feels so heavy Iike he could keep on falling through it. He can sense the boyishness of Frank's smile next to him, tracing it with his fingers and returning tenfold.

[modelbus]

hi!!!!! im new but ive read a lot of your work and its amazing!!

anyway, i was wondering if you could write a either hurt comfort or childhood friends to lovers, as a cc!tommy x fem!reader ?

it would mean a lot thank you !!! 🩷🩷

Why not both? Cue evil grin, mwahaha ;) ALSO! I’m back with that mcyt stuff!!

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Fem!Reader

Fighting Friends

You’ve known Tommy for as long as you can remember. Apparently memory formation starts when you’re about 6, so you knew there was a time before him, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

There’s a photo on your desk, framed with a cheap plastic frame. Both of you as kids, him wearing sunglasses and holding a Nerf gun up to your head as you’re caught in the act of stabbing him with a foam sword (he shot you in the forehead after the photo). The picture just about sums up your guys’ relationship. It doesn’t need to be worth a thousand words, just two: fucking chaos.

Or, that’s what you two normally were.

It was a stupid argument, even you knew that. A silly remark you took too hard, something that stung too deep. He said it during a vlog, too. A quip about rather dying than dancing with you. And with those few words, you stupid crush-addled heart shriveled up and was shot through.

So you had retaliated with a poor jab, and he didn't get it, and it all blew up in your faces. To the point where your messages have sat empty for three whole days. There's no "GET ON MC" message from him, no impromptu "Movie now." Just pure radio silence.

And you hate it.

You loved Tommy. Adored the hell out of him, unfortunately for you. And not just because you had a traitorous little crush. He's your best friend. The type of person you always knew would be there.

Right up until he wasn't.

It’s funny how much colder it seems to be now that he’s gone. Winter’s blowing in, like it was just waiting for him to vanish from your life before taking over. It leaves piles of snow that you dredge through to get to your favorite cafe, braving the wind chill just for a semblance of comfort.

You used to go here nearly daily with Tommy, making you dependent on the warm atmosphere that you haven’t been in since five days ago. Have you mentioned how much you hate fighting with Tommy? The disruption to routine, the fucking ache in your heart…

It’s a bit pathetic, honestly. But that’s simply what you are without him. One half of a soul.

The bell chimes, and you drag yourself over to your normal table and pull out your laptop. Even when your world stops, the actual world keeps spinning, meaning you have work to do.

“Hey sweetheart. No shadow?” Your head jerks up, instinctively smiling at Laura, the aged worker who always serves you.

“Not today.” You sigh. “He’s… busy.”

“Too busy for you?” Her eyebrows raise. “That boy will show up eventually for you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, trust me, hon. He’s got those eyes when he looks at you.”

Hell if you know what that means, but you smile at her anyway.

“Want your usual?” She asks.

“Just a water.” You shake your head, the idea of a hot chocolate without Tommy seeming just sad.

Laura nods then heads off as you turn your attention back to your laptop. In the bottom right corner a Discord notification pops up from Wilbur, but you ignore it without even reading the message. You can respond to him later, which you’ll probably do at night while in bed. Procrastinating sleep, per usual.

A mug is set in front of you—definitely not water—making you look up at Laura in confusion. Hot chocolate, complete with your usual whipped cream.

“I—“

“Someone else ordered it for you.” She answers before you can even ask, a sparkle in her eye. Before she steps away, she leans closer and whispers, “I told you that boy adores you.”

Your eyes scan the surrounding area, seeing Tommy almost instantly. Blond hair messed up, his favorite hoodie and jeans on. He makes his way to you, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out the second he’s close enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Laura step away. “I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have said half the fucking things I did—“

“At least sit down.” You interrupt, knowing damn well he’d stand there and apologize all day.

Almost instantly, he drops into the chair across from you. You quietly close your laptop, leaving the two of you staring at each other in awkward silence.

“You ordered me hot chocolate.” You say just to break the quiet.

He ducks his head. “You always get it.”

The acknowledgment that you didn’t want to get it without him hangs in the air.

“What’ve you been up to?” You ask politely. Small talk is strained and stupid; you’ve never had to do this with him before.

“Recording and shit. Made a mod video with Schlatt and Wil and Jack. You?”

You drink your hot chocolate while the two of you talk, the argument hanging heavy over your heads like a storm cloud. When you finish the drink, there’s some unspoken consensus that you’ll leave together, him stepping ahead to hold the door for you.

“I scrapped that vlog, by the way.” He’s saying, referencing the one you had filmed with him. “Wasn’t enough content to put in a video.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning, knowing that it was your argument that had made it such a short filming session.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” He asks, staring at you like you’re an alien. “I’m the one who made that argument a whole fucking thing.”

“You?” You echo. “That was definitely on me, I was so snappish!”

“Bullshit, I started it!”

“In what fucking world did you start it? That was me, Tom, I acted like a little bitch about that one—“

You’re silenced by something, warmth covering your lips before it’s gone as quick as it was there. It’s not until he’s four steps back that you realize what just happened.

He kissed you. He fucking kissed you.

“Fuck— I didn’t— I didn’t meant to do that!” He exclaims, eyes wide. “I mean— Wil told me to just go for it, but I told him he was fucking insane man, I didn’t— I keep fucking this up, don’t I?”

“…so that was an apology kiss?” You ask, confused.

“What? No! I meant I was sorry for kissing you without, Y’know, asking.” His cheeks flush, and it’s not until someone shoves past you that you realize you’ve both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“It’s… it’s fine. Okay, I mean.” You say, almost positive your cheeks are the same shade as his.

Tommy nods. “So I didn’t totally fuck this up?”

“I think you fucked it up a long time ago, Tom. I’m doing charity work sticking around you.”

He laughs, elbowing you as you start walking. “I’m the one doing charity work! I’m a fucking millionaire, you should be paying to be in my presence!”

“Oh, yeah, you kissed me for charity too, huh?”

“Wha— well I— that—“

You laugh loudly, having to look away from him to catch your breath. This was your Tommy, this was what you missed.

“Oh, you asshole!” He groans. “Fine! It was fucking charity, how about that?”

Shrugging, you can’t help your grin. “Just don’t make it charity next time.”

His steps falter, but when you look over at him he’s beaming. “Deal.” He announces, but doesn’t make a move to kiss you again.

“…are you not going to—“

“I have to surprise you. That way it’s fun.”

Oh boy.

[labselkie]

Fantasy AU Basics!!

because i need to get my mind set on smthn and i wanna write for this one soon

(the dragons r unrelated to the main plot i just rlly like this divider also this will probably be updated a bunch)

luce is the princess and liv is the king’s appointed sorcerer/alchemist. soo basic but hear me out

it’s a seaside kingdom! not gonna name the monarchs or the kingdom itself because i don’t gaf. its economy is obviously based around fishing but the surrounding town has become a hotspot for artisans

like. scrunkly if u see this. there’s probably a royally mandated school for sciences, meaning i can shove martor into this! yay!

but. there is no queen, or it seems that way, she was an oceanid nymph who saved the king little mermaid style and fell in love. she retreated to the sea (idk why don’t ask) and their daughter is a selkie! dayum!

liv’s got an ursula/yzma vibe. soooooo sorry but i’m a sucker for those purple ladies. she’s still on the basis of being drawn by the need for knowledge and a splash of mad science, but it’s spliced in with a bit more magic

liv!!!!liv has a curse! damn! it’s the same as the dunmeshi thoughts i had, but the basics are that she’s got her soul mixed with a kraken’s. she can summon the beast if she’s at the water (it takes a lot of strength) and she can conjure tentacles on her back like usual yayy

i always get embarrassed bringing up that they have such a large age difference, luce is a full adult in all iterations but i never want it to come off weird. whatever anyways they’re around the same ages here anyways (mid twenties nd early forties)

i think the reason why for that^ is cuz i see so much bad booktok shit and i don’t want to seem too similar. they don’t have a “i’ve known you since birth” thing like ive seen, they’re not some manipulative dark romance. they’re just chilling

ANYWAYS TANGENT OVER! luce nd liv have known each other for a good while, obvs, having first been introduced when the former was youngr

but. their first true time together was when luce was 22/23. her father is flanked by advisors and overseers who have slowly made him more and more almost demanding. she’s 22 and hasn’t married, so the school of piranhas crowding her father have been insisting she gets sold off to a neighboring kingdom

she was in the court when they all decided this, so she ran off in a flurry of seal fur to the laboratory and just pleaded for a potion to calm her down. a lot of liv sorta messing with her for a little bit, mainly just because she’s been slowly treated worse and worse by the court, but after a while she warms up promise

unfortunately, for a cliff side palace, the only exit to the ocean is through the lab (the excuse was that liv needed easy access to more materials) so liv nd luce meet more and more often as luce keeps trying to sneak out to the sea

ITS ALL SUCH A CHEESY DISNEY PLOT IM SORRY😭😭

whatever. yuri prevails

[prongsfish]

sigh

im post blocked

anyway

FISHALICIOUS

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE EVAN ROSIER HEADCANONS

(ive been asking everyone because he's slowly becoming my favourite)

just now realising you asked this nearly a month ago i'm so sorry i don't know why i struggle with answering asks so much!! but anyways evan headcanons i will GLADLY give. my characterisation of him is less concrete than characters like barty or regulus but i think about him loads still i love him...

this is a classic ofc but i will always see him and pandora as twins!! i love siblings in media so much and i think it allows for suuupper interesting dynamics between them, even in canon

in muggle aus my go-to career for him is either a piercer or something in the medical science field. i can just picture him as this mildly off-putting medsci student who goes on to be a forensic pathologist or something, he's really intrigued by the human body and how it functions in various ways. could definitely also go the way of unlicensed surgeon or mad scientist who performs fucked up experiments on people but that sort of thing doesn't quite fit into every fic lmaoo

i've always thought of him as more of a piercings guy than a tattoo guy (which is the opposite to barty). he'd definitely have both but i associate him more with piercings if that makes sense? i imagine he'd have a labret, bridge, stretched lobes (~7/8"), stretched septum (~0g), eyebrows (normal and middle placements), and high nostrils. all symmetrical!! plus probably some other non-facial piercings

he'd love sci-fi, thriller, and horror (especially psychological) films. anything super tense and probably confusing

when he was a child he and pandora would trap and kill insects. they'd spend ages examining little bug bodies and dissecting them with sticks and stuff... as he grew older he became more and more interested in bigger animals. occasionally he would kill animals himself but more often he'd search for those already dead, especially roadkill. once he was finished with any given specimen he'd carefully remove, clean, and reconstruct their skeletons to give to pandora. she didn't like the organs stuff as much as he did but she loved collecting bones and taxidermy insects, in exchange one year for his birthday (10-14th, maybe) she spent ages searching to buy him a surgical set from an antique store

waaay scarier than barty. if you don't know them you might be more initially scared by barty but while barty is loud and crazy and violent and laughs at pain/danger, evan is creepy. he knows way a million and one ways to kill someone without leaving behind any evidence. he knows every single pressure point on the human body. someone mentions a medicine they've taken their whole life for the first time and when someone else asks what it is he can explain in minute detail exactly how it works to the point where not even the person who takes it knew even half of what he says. he's super quiet moving without even meaning to be so he scares the shit out of people all the time. he doesn't blink as often as he should but just often enough that you don't notice until you're paying attention. and this is all revealed gradually, whereas barty's most "scary" traits are purposefully the most surface level things about him

he loooves medical dramas. he's watched tons of them. he HATES the good doctor though, purely on principle because once someone said that must be his favourite because he's autistic. his actual favourite is house

he runs cold and NEVER wears shorts. lots of beanies and jackets

these were so random and i went on a few tangents but oh well i did like five other things between writing these so it's a bit of a mess LMAO

[relaxxattack]

hi im asking u this bc u seem to be bee duo enthusiast so

ive been calling c! beeduos relationship platonic because i thought that was what their cc’s said, and i thought they had said that they were uncomfortable with ppl shipping the characters. But ive seen a lot of posts that say their relationship is canonically romantic? and i absolutely do not want to come across as homophobic by watering down a mlm relationship to just friends because that happens so much in media so.

what is the canon state of their relationship / ur opinions on the platonic thibg

dont worry abt answering if u dont want to!! i see a lot of differing opinions and i trust yours :)

aw it’s totally fine, im flattered you asked me about this!

let me put it simply: it’s a whole mess, lol.

first im going to talk about what’s happened fandom-wide that caused differing opinions, and then i’ll explain my own opinion/interpretation. :]

(this got really fucking long im so sorry)

ranboo and tubbo initially proclaimed the relationship was romantic, specifically in argument with the wiki editors who had set it as platonic by default. (you can see this in the vod where they decide they’re canonically married— it’s very funny. chat tells them the marriage is already on the wiki, they check, tubbo is jokingly offended that it says platonic and asks if he needs to up the romance).

tubbo also makes jokes about adultry, which sort of implies the relationship is not necessarily a platonic one.

(theres definetly more in that stream alone but it’s been a long time since i watched it so i don’t remember a lot of it.)

the wiki, because of this, suffers from going back and forth on platonic and romantic, seemingly unsure where the joke ends and the canon begins, or if its canonically a joke! a mess, as you can already tell.

this gets more complicated as the marriage bit goes on: outsiders, such as phil and scott, both at one point say “platonic marriage”, which then ranboo and tubbo agree with. however, when chat asks them if they’re platonic, they say the opposite. so there is a lot of confusion there.

there’s also the difficulty of being able to tell streamers and characters apart. ranboo and tubbo both don’t like being shipped irl, and that’s their boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. (they’re also minors, but tbh when they’re 18 in a year i will still be following their boundaries regardless of their legal age).

due to people not wanting to be accused of minor shipping, they started adding the platonic tone indicator to most of their drawings— basically a way of saying “no homo”. meanwhile, tubbo frequently on stream flirts with ranboo and makes quite a bit of nsfw comments towards him that are frankly hilarious.

this goes on for a while with nobody really sure what’s canon, but a lot of people assuming it’s probably platonic, until: the drama of the mods night. a few mods dmed all the wiki editors telling them ranboo wanted his canon character relationship officially set to platonic.

unfortunately for those mods; the very same day, a few hours later, ranboo on stream makes fun of puffy delivering him and tubbo “friendship flowers”. because, and i quote, “bruh. we’re literally married. this must be how the ancient greeks felt.”

in case you don’t know, the internet often jokes about how historians will call ancient greeks ‘very good friends’ when they are quite obviously gay. so in this context, ranboo is joking that people will call him and c!tubbo, who are married, “close friends”, when he doesn’t think they are.

basically, ranboo canonized romantic bee duo, the very same day the mods told everyone he’d wanted a platonic one.

chaos and drama immediately erupted everywhere. on tumblr, we were talking about how weird it was of his mods to do something like that without asking him first. we ALSO talked about how weird it was of them to assume that ranboo can’t make his own decisions, or assume teenagers cannot be in relationships without it being sexual. twitter did the same thing but in the opposite direction: called ranboo mods homophobic, or said they were mad ranboo felt pressured into making a romantic relationship canon ‘just so people could have mlm rep.’

i dont want to go into detail about the drama that happened that night because apparently official people follow me and i dont want to stir it up or have them come “clarify” things. im just saying what we talked about.

ranboo in typical ranboo fashion apologized quickly and seriously. he was deeply sorry for possibly offending anyone with how he’d portrayed his rp relationship with tubbo, and he also assured everyone the mod thing was just a miscommunication.

he said he would talk to tubbo and they’d decide once and for all whether it was platonic or romantic, and then announce so everyone would know.

it’s now been a few months and we've had no word from them on that development. we still have no clue.

-

now, here’s my opinion:

i want to take ranboos word for it that it was a miscommunication with his mods, but... we had it on good authority from people on the wiki team and people in the discord with the mods that (while it was happening) they were really going after the wiki admins, and also made some weird comments about it. that combined with the way ranboo seemingly had no clue (considering he canonized their romance that very same day).... it’s very. sus of the mods.

then there’s the canon we’ve got since then. although occasionally adults in the room have called it a “platonic marriage” and tubbo once (back when it first started) called it a “plankton tectonic” marriage, in roleplay it’s been... kind of not that. tubbo and ranboo make nsfw jokes about each other in character, and their characters also share a master bedroom and bed in the mansion. there's also the way c!tommy really thinks it’s a romance between them as well, and they agree with and play off that— for instance confirming that they “fell in love” when he asked, or ranboo confirming that they “make out on occasion”.

people will still put platonic on their art and posts, imo, because they’re worried about breaking ranboo and tubbo’s irl boundaries by looking like they ship them. or even just being accused of shipping real life minors. and that’s a valid fear to have.

the thing is though: c!bee duo are not cc!bee duo. they’re roleplay characters. cc!bee duo are not okay with being shipped, but they made their characters get canonically married, and call each other “husbands”. so it’s okay to write the word “husband” in your comic without adding “platonic” to it, i promise.

telling the ccs that their characters have to be platonic is... weird. it comes off as not only babying them, but also as saying teens can’t date without it being gross. which isn’t true.

(this is why seeing people overuse “platonic husband” so much bothers me. like, they ARE husbands. you can just say it. what are you trying to hide...?)

-

do i think they’re canonically romantic? ehh, its likely. it’s still okay to interpret them as platonic, because again, it’s hard to tell where jokes end and roleplay begins. like, maybe it’s jokes in the rp too, and c!bee duo are just friends. friends can and should be allowed to make jokes like that with each other! aro & ace marriages exist!

or, maybe it’s actually part of the rp, and they’re very much romantic. we don’t know!

some people say they could be a qpr (queerplatonic romance), which i could see. (a qpr is a relationship that fluctuates between, or can’t quite be sorted into, “romantic” and “platonic”. people in a qpr can do romantic things while having platonic feelings for each other). in my opinion this is a very valid interpretation as well!

-

CONCLUSION (sorry this got so long omfg):

are c!bee duo romantic?

its likely, but you can still interpret them however you like!

should i put /p on bee duo content?

ehhh? i find it annoying when it’s overused (as do others), but if you’re worried you can. its up to preference. putting it too much is weird though

should i put /p on things cc! bee duo do?

no. you’re not the one saying it so you can’t decide the tone tags for that. imagine you said something to your friend and a random stranger came up and was like “haha but that was /p right...?”

can i ship c!bee duo?

mmm. i’m not sure on this one. they are canonically married and very flirtatious, but the ccs don’t like being shipped and they’re close enough to being the ccs that actively shipping might be against boundaries.

can i treat c!bee duo as romantic?

yes. literally just don’t be weird about it. it’s not that hard! you can understand that two characters are husbands without making it weird

here’s the most important thing: boundaries. cc bee duo still haven’t told us what their preferences and canon is about this whole thing.

right now, i am assuming based on what they already show us they’re comfortable with, but! the second they give us any more info! all these opinions will change!

i am only going off what they do. i would never want to cross boundaries at all. i just wish they would make theirs a little more clear.

..... i hope that helped anon, i went way off the rails... i need to go to sleep.

[iwadori]

When they leave you on your wedding day (Sakusa, Bokuto)

Genre: angst

Word count: 1.7K

masterlist

Sakusa’s will make more sense if you read this you don’t have too but it’ll help.

Sakusa:

“Y/N,” you hear knocks on the door outside your dressing room “I-I need to talk to you.”    

“But Omi, a groom must never see their bride until they meet at the alter,” you say behind the door.

“I-It’s important, and I must tell you right now.” he says a bit more intensely

“Okay, Okay... you can come in but im hiding in the closet since my dress is already on.”

“Ok.”

You hear the door open and shut, and a lot of pacing around of what you can presume was his fresh wedding shoes trotting against the hard wood floors.

“Omi,” you call wondering why he hasn’t spoken yet “Is everything okay?”

“Umm yes I-it's fine...it just I-” he says pausing

“Just what?”

“I don’t really know how to say this Y/N, I don’t really know how to say it’s just-” he says again pausing himself taking a deep breath.

“Just what Omi? Don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet love,” you say laughing at the thought of it, but your laughter ceased when you don’t hear the ‘Of course I don’t have cold feet Y/N’ that you were expecting.

“Omi?” you asked again, hoping he had he was still going to give you the response you wanted.

“Omi..” you repeated.

“Omi!” you say finally, now exiting the room (with your wedding dress on) to see why your fiance was not responding.  

To your shock, Omi was sitting down on a couch with his face in his hands with soft sobs coming from his mouth and runny tears and snot coming from his eyes and nose. “Omi whats wrong?” you say loudly, alerting him,

“Y/N you look beautiful!” he says sniffling.

“Omi you were meant to say that at the alter, but now that your crying forget about the dress... what’s wrong?” you say sitting down next to him.

“I don’t know how to say this...” he starts, looking away from you  

“Say what? Omi look at me...” you say feeling anxious  

“We...We can’t get married today,” he says still with his eyes off you.

“What do you mean, we can’t get married.” you ask but you get no answer,

“Omi answer me,”

“Say something please!” you say turning his body so that he’s facing you, his eyes are all puffy and bloodshot from the crying and now tears are filling yours “What do you mean Omi,”

“Remember Ex’s name?” he says confusing you cause what did she have to do with anything.

“Yes I remember her, I remember vividly being the girl you cheated on her with after you claimed you were ‘breaking up with her’ so I had to tell her.” you scoff “so yes, I definitely remember Y/N, what about her?”

“We recently umm how can I say this,” he says struggling for words “reconnected... and I do truly miss her and she’s made me rethink some things, see some things...”

“And those things are?”

“I’ve always loved her, she’s always been my one. The one.” he says smiling a bit at the thought of her making you feel sick.

“But Omi what about us? What about the wedding that’s going to happen in less than an hour?”

“Im sorry Y/N I’ll tell everyone what has happened.”

“I don’t want you to do that, I want you to marry me.” you say desparetly “please Omi, why her? Why now..”

“It’s always been her, and you’ve known that.” he says standing up “The day you told her about our ONE NIGHT stand, was the day that I thought I couldn’t live on, but when you came and accepted the pathetic mess I was, I gladly dated you since I had nothing else to loose...but its been 4 years since then I'm a changed man and EX NAME is a changed girl, a forgiving girl and the spark we had wasn’t lost I guess...and Im happy now”

“But what about me?” you say crying “What about me? And my happiness, don’t I deserve that? Don’t I deserve to finally be happy.”  

“Y/N, you do deserve to be happy. But not with me, not at the stake of my own happiness, I wont allow it.”

“Omi bu-”

“God Y/N, don’t be so desperate!” he said agressively “Im sorry for stopping the wedding, I know your parents have put in alot of money in it and I will certainly pay them back... in due time of course.”

“You’re sorry for stopping the wedding?” you say angrily “Not sorry for stopping this relationship. Stopping the longlasting feelings ive felt for you since the day I met you?”

“Cut the crap Y/N, all we did was have one night stand.” he says rolling his eyes and unbuttoning his top botton of his shirt and loosening his tie I dont know why but this Is what guys do when theyre mad in the movies.

“Your such a liar Omi, you used to come into my work place everyday flirting with me talking about how much you wanted me, PINING AFTER ME, making me fall in love with you and not even telling me you had a girlfriend at the time.” you yell “and you summarise that all to me falling in love with you after one measly one night stand.”

“I don’t want to do this Y/N,” he says heading to the door “We’re finished. No more wedding. No marriage. And definitely don’t contact me after this. We’re through.” he slams the door behind him, leaving you alone and jilted in your wedding dress.

You get why he broke it off with you, and technically you do play a small part to blame. You were the one that told his girlfriend that you slept with him and then dated him afterwards, so I guess ‘how you get them, is how you lose them’ definitely works in this case.

Bokuto

The bokuto and L/N wedding was going to be a joyous occasion. Your soon to be husband told everybody he saw that he were to be wed with you, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Bokuto calm down, we’ll be married soon.” was what you always said, whenever he started his rambles to which he always replied “I know Y/N, I cant wait.”

When it came to your grand day, you were excited from the moment you woke up you were buzzing, wondering if Bokuto was feeling even a half of the feelings that you felt.  

You looked beautiful in your dress, anticipating the look on Bokuto’s face when he sees you at that alter. Your wedding party was already at the hotel you were getting married at whilst Bokuto’s got ready at the houe and decided to drive there.

So after you got ready, all you had to do is wait for Kuroo, one of Bokuto’s best men, to tell you when it’s time for you to walk down the aisle.  

You were impatient, your leg was shaking now you knew how Bokuto felt when he rambled on how excited he was for you to become Bokuto Y/N. You finally heard a knock on the door and you dashed to open it,

“Kuroo, thank god you’re here!” you exclaim giving him a hug “I’ve been waiting ages for you, lets go! Take me to my future husband.” You pull his arm practically trying to run and see your man before Kuroo pulls your arm halting you.

“Y/N...” he says shifting his eye sight from left to right “I think we should sit down for a minute.”

“Why? Is he not here yet, gosh he’s always been late to things” you joke “but fine we can sit for a minute or two.”

As you sat, Kuroo turns his body to you putting his hands on your knees with his eyes looking sad “Y/N. I don’t know how to say this but...” he gulps putting his head down “there’s been an accident.”

“Accident? What do you mean accident? What happened? Is everyone okay.” you ask a bit frantically, since it would sad for someone to be hurt on your wedding day.

“That’s the thing Y/N, Bokuto he..”  

“Bokuto what? He’s okay.. Right?” you ask staring at Kuroo “He’s fine right?”

“No he isnt,” he says

“What do you mean he isn’t what happened, where is he? I need to see him.” you say getting up before Kuroo pulls you back down.

“He isn’t anywhere... well anywhere for you to see him. There weren’t enough cars for us, well there were but one of them the engine wasn’t starting and it sound a bit dodgy. But Bokuto said, he insisted for us all to be there. I even offered to let him take my spot in the other cars, I did Y/N I really did, but he promised us that he’d be fine. He left a bit before he did, saying that if he had chance to wander around the hotel it may calm his nerves. But when we were driving, we saw this car all mangled up on the side of the road, it was his. I told him not to drive that car, I told him and he did and I-” he rambled with tears pooling in his eyes “Im sorry Y/N im really sorry.”

“But why why didn’t you call?”

“He told us not too, he said that he wanted you be to as happy as you could be on this day as he knew it wouldn’t end with you becoming his wife.”

“But the ambulance, you called an ambulance right?”

“He was D.O.A, Akaashi went with him since he knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to deliver the news to you.”

“Why? Why did he leave me? On our wedding day, it was supposed to be our day and now hes gone Kuroo hes gone.” you wail, but kuroo wraps his arms around you in a brotherly hug as he cries too.  

That’s how you spend your wedding night, crying in your friends arms over the loss of your ‘husband’ and his ‘brother.’

Bokuto’s funeral was the week after, and it was not an event you were excited for. It was a hard day to get through, but you did it with the help of Kuroo and Akaashi. You visit Bokuto every year on your wedding anniversary talking to your husband even though it always reminds you of the day that never came to be.

This is the wedding angst that is a gift from me to you sweetheart @teesumu you can totally block me after this cause girll I cried whilst writing it.

If you want a nice ending to the bokuto story to make you feel better read this

General taglist [bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi, @iimoonii, @hamdehlesmis, @Shoyosupremacy, @iambashfulperson, @kayleighbeccaa, @dearkousei, @bakugouswh0r3, @xedspirits @borpcorp, @soft-angel-clouds, @foxxtrot-116 @Xogiaaa, @jesssobs, @apple-poptarts @galagcica @letssssus, @random-734, [join the taglist here]

[mrsmount16]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a MM imagine where him and the reader have only gone on a couple of dates then when the announcement of the first lockdown is made he asks the reader to isolate with him? Then I was thinking while they’re isolating they’re experiencing a few Firsts with each other (e.g., cooking together, sharing a bed, movie nights, cuddles and kisses etc).

I didn't know how to write this without being super long and boring so I was going to section it off but hopefully it still gives off the same energy then a normal write lmao, also thank you for the request and this is such a good idea 😩. I didn't really know what other firsts to do😕 I haven’t proof read this either, so it could make no sense at all and probably have spelling mistakes but pls just power through it 🤞🏼

Warning: None.

Lockdown was being announced and everyone was panicking, the news emphasised on the amount of food people were buying and how there was no loo roll left but also about how relationships weren't going to work out due to being locked in the houses for all this time without seeing your significant other or because you was seeing them too much.

You had only been on a couple of dates with Mason, but you both knew that you wanted to pursue something more personal and deep and not just mess around for the fun of it. Thats why when he asked you to isolate with him you didn't hesitate to say yes. Even though the news told you otherwise of how to feel you simply ignored and couldn't wait to spend as much time with him as possible, building up a true connection between you both and making your bond stronger.

Cuddling and kisses and sharing a bed.

You arrived earlier in the day and had already taken your things to the spare bedroom and now sat on his couch, him on the opposite side. You guys hadn't stopped talking throughout the whole movie that played and eventually when it ended you insisted that you bought a takeaway for the both of you.

He agreed and when the pizza arrived you both sat at the table and had a slice, talking endlessly about random things like 'why colours are named what they are' and 'how were humans created'. After about an hour, it was dark out and just turned 9pm.

"I'm gonna get comfy and ready for bed."

"Yeah, I'll meet you up there in a few." He smiled and kissed your cheek, grabbing the box and walking off outside.

It was pretty cold out so you pulled on a hoodie and joggers, and you removed your makeup and cleaned your face and teeth and sat on the bed in the free room on your phone.

He knocked on the door and peaked his head through the door frame at about 10.

"You coming?" He gestures to his room.

"Oh yeah, hold up." You smile watching him leave.

He lay on the bed on his phone, lighting up when he saw you enter.

"You don't have to stay in here if you don't want to." He stated, watching as you climbed into bed next to him.

"No, I want to." You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on the pillow.

"I want you to, too." He put an arm around your waist and finally rested down after turning the light off on the bedside table.

You were both submerged in complete darkness, a tranquil atmosphere surrounded you both, the duvet lazily spread across you and your faces faced each other. His eyes were closed, but you lightly leaned in and pecked his lips causing him to open his eyes.

"Goodnight." You said, looking up at him.

"Goodnight pretty." He smiled, kissing you again lightly and resting his head.

You fell asleep in his arms, totally engulfed with his care and serenity, it rubbed off onto you. This was the best sleep you ever had in ages, and you wanted to do it a lot more.

Cooking.

"Hey! Thats not where the flour goes." You retaliated at Mason putting the flour on your nose, a sneeze followed shortly after.

"Oh, my bad." He giggled, sticking the rest of the flour in the bowl.

"These are going to be the best cupcakes you have ever baked."You said, mixing all the ingredients with all the strength you had.

"Yeah? I reckon by myself I could cook some pretty good cupcakes. With no help of Course." He leaned against the counter, his apron said 'world best chef' and he was covered in all ingredients that you didn't even know had to be in the cupcakes.

"Well, we will see about that once you taste my cakes." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him and wiping a little bit of frosting on his cheek. "Got u back." You giggled.

He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to him so your front's were together.

"You look amazing cooking.." He cheekily smiled.

"Not too bad yourself." You kissed him, he deepened the kiss and ran his hand up your back, until you felt a hard crack on your head and then an ooze of a liquid go down your back, mason was laughing uncontrollably, holding his stomach and near enough rolling on the floor.

"Mason!" You shouted, shocked and holding your head, "Did you just egg me?" You laughed, grabbing the egg that was on you and smearing it all over him.

"Two can play that game!" You giggled, grabbing flower and eggs.

Fight and makeup.

"No, I just don't particularly like her. You told me about what she did, she's a bad influence." He argued back.

"Oh, so she's a bad influence? So you think I would do something like that?" You scoffed. Your friend invited you to go on a walk around the park, and you told Mason but when he heard your friends name he instantly scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. He had no care about it and sighed, telling you to just 'do what you wanna, your choice at the end of the day.'. You asked why he was being so moody and he replied that he doesn't like her, and you understood why but because he didn't like her didn't mean that you couldn't hang with her. You did tell him that she did cheat on her boyfriend and you completely disagreed with her actions too but now he was saying she was a 'bad influence' like you was going to be influenced by what she did and start following her actions like you was a child.

"Its only for a catch up Mase, I haven't seen her in like 3 weeks. I haven't been at work remember and ive been locked up here."

"Yes, but anyone but her. We could go. I't doesn't matter, just go. Ill see you when you get back." And then he stormed off up to his gaming room, releasing all his stress on his games.

After about 40 minutes, you realised he was right, it wasn't just the cheating but she just overall was a bad person and you shouldn't have been encouraging such gossip with her.

You entered his room and put your hands on his shoulders, he looked back at you and then carried on his game like you wasn't even there.

"I'm sorry Mase, you was right. I can surround myself with much better people, and I will."

He turned his chair around so he was facing you and grabbed your hips to sit you down on his lap.

"It's okay, and ill go on that walk with you. Let me just finish this game." He said, smiling lightly and giving you a kiss which you returned.

Go-to support.

It was about 2 months into lockdown and your work had been piling up. You was stressed and so not motivated to do anything, even getting up out of bed was hard.

This day was particularly a struggle. You had to finish a presentation and only had today to do it, so you panicked and speeded it, finishing it as quick as ou could without caring about the outcome and just sending it off.

You sat at the kitchen table with your face in your hands, thinking about all the possibilities, will you lose your job? Will you get demoted? You just couldn't stop your mind from wandering.

"Are you okay babe?" You heard Masons voice from behind you and felt a hand on your back soothing you.

You couldn't hold it in anymore and broke down, whimpering and wiping your eyes.

"Mason I need a break from work, its so stressful and I think with the work I just did I'm going to lose my job and im just not motivated to do anything and I-" you rambled on, until he cut you off.

"Hey, hey calm down," He crouched down and placed his hand on the side of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. "Don't beat yourself up about it. It's happening to everyone now, im sure if we ask your work to give you some time for your mental health im sure they would let you." he smiled reassuringly.

"We?" You sniffed.

"Yeah, we. We're gonna get through this together. Now, it's always we." He stood up and hugged you tight.

Love and a movie night.

It's been about a 5 months now, and you and Mason had been going strong.

Mason insisted that you watch a movie tonight, sit down with some popcorn and snuggle up together. Of course you said yes.

About halfway in the movie, a conversation popped up about 'what would you do if you was a worm?' and you couldn't stop laughing, at both of your responses.

"Yeah, but I would definitely still love you if you was a worm." He joked, laughing with you.

You stopped almost instantly, looking over at him.

"What?" He looked over, confused.

"Did you just say that you love me?" You questioned, sitting up.

"You didn't hear? I love you." He smiled, chuckling.

you gasped, putting your hands over your mouth. He reached out and grabbed your face.

"I love you." He repeated, just for you to realise what he did, so you could know that it was real, to process the words.

"I love you." You stated, grinning from ear to ear.

[urbfsecretgf]

The boy next door. (pt1?)

a/n: this is my first time writing stuff like this is went though and looked at a bunch of other peoples stories and took into consideration on how they did it. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it if not more. :)

(everything is made up, names, ages, street names, and the phone number.)

_________________________________________________________

you and your family had just moved from beautiful NYC to a small town all the way across the country. in your room you are trying to figure out ways to introduce yourself to your neighbors in hopes of meeting someone your age.

"hi! im y/n! no that wont work, uhhh, hey! im y/n! we just moved in next door, ugh this sounds so lame"

your little brother BURSTS into your room

"JACK GET OUT" you scream "mom told me to tell you she wants us to go into town and figure where places are"

your brother is a few years younger than you, hes 13 and you're 16. this isn't your first time having to move with your family. your mom is a single parent who gets job offers all the time. sometime she has to take them even if she doesnt want to move again but she has to because of money problems.

"ill be out in a minute let me finish getting ready. please." jack rolls his eyes at you and sighs "fine but hurry up" "i will, now get out of my room"

you start getting ready, you put on your favorite t-shirt and a pair of your favorite black ripped mom jeans, you throw your hair up into a messy bun, throw on some of your strawberry flavored lip gloss and put on some perfume and walk downstairs.

"jeez took you long enough" jack says while you're putting shoes on. "at least i tried to look presentable unlike you"

"knock it off you two, be back before dinner and have fun." your mom says as she kisses your cheek, "i love you both now go its going to be dark out soon"

you and jack set out to town and stop at an ice cream shop. you order a vanilla swirl cone and you get some chocolates for your mom. "what do you want?" jack orders a strawberry cheesecake cone.

you hear the bell on the door jingle while you are waiting for both of the ice cream cones to be handed to you.

"ayeeee its my favorite customer! havent seen you in a while. how you doing vin?"

you look back to see this tall, blonde haired boy with tattoos and lots of jewelry. hes probably the most handsome boy you have ever seen.

"holy shit" you whisper

jack whispers back to you "i heard that."

you hit his shoulder

"im doing great man, its a beautiful day outside, ive been out skating all day so i just came in to get some of my favorite ice cream from my favorite guy." vinnie says to the cashier

"vanilla swirl in a cone?"

"you know it!"

the worker handed jack his ice cream cone and then handed you yours.

"alright heres the vanilla swirl in a cone for you, you two have a nice day now" she said with a smile

"ayeeee vanilla swirl AND IN A CONE?? bro you got good taste" vinnie says to you.

you laugh and say thank you.

"im vinnie"

"y/n"

"ah i knew a pretty girl like you would have a pretty name"

you smile and blush

"are you new to town? i dont think ive ever seen you around before" vinnie says while grabbing his ice cream cone.

"yeah we just moved in yesterday, its my mom, little brother jack, and me"

"yeah that makes sense, where'd you guys move from?"

you, vinnie, and your brother head outside and sit at one of the tables. jack sees that there is an arcade across the street and begs you to let him go. you give him money to let him play so you can talk to vinnie alone.

"we actually moved from new york. my mom got a job offer over here and moneys tight right now so we had to move."

"oh thats understandable, so where do you guys live now? that sounds like im trying to stalk you i promise im not im just curious. i live on greendale over there."

"no way! we do too!"

"haha isnt that something, whats your house number? i wanna know if you guys moved in right next to me. there was a house for sale not too long ago and it was right next to mine."

you laugh and tell him what it is.

"HELL YEAH BRO! thats the house next time."

"actually?" you cant tell if hes just messing with you or if hes being genuine.

"yeah" he laughs and offers to walk you guys home.

"oh yes please. that would be wonderful i dont really know my way around town yet and i dont wanna get lost."

vinnie laughs and tells you; "i promise if you stick with me, we wont get lost. i'll get lost in those beautiful eyes of yours tho. ohhhh im smooth! sorry that was dumb"

the two of you laugh and you see jack coming out of the arcade.

"i dont have anymore money" he said while holding 3 giant stuffed animals.

vinnie walks you and your brother back home and as soon as you get there jack rushes inside to show your mom what he won at the arcade.

you and vinnie sit outside for a couple minutes and talk.

"it was nice meeting you y/n. oh im missing something."

"did you leave something at the picnic table? i can go inside and tell my mom that ill be back and go with you to look for it."

vinnie smiles and says "no im missing your number, its not in my phone" he winks at you as he hands you his phone to put your number in.

"wow you're really on a roll today huh." you take his phone and punch your number in.

"i'll text you after dinner. maybe we can plan something out for tomorrow or if you need help with moving in, i'd be glad to help."

"yeah no of course. i think we could really use the help."

"sweet just text me anytime you need something and ill be right over."

"thank you vinnie i really appreciate it"

"anything for a pretty girl like you."

you blush again and say thank you. "it was nice meeting you vinnie, have a nice night and text me later"

"yeah it was really nice meeting you and your brother too, tell your mom i say hi as well"

"i will" you say smiling

you both say bye to each other and head into your houses.

as you are walking into the kitchen you feel your phone buzz.

New Message from +1-453-555-8000: hey pretty lady :)

[saviourkingslut]

10 27 37 for fe asks!!

ok first of all sorry for answering this ask 30000 years late but question 37 threw me for a loop a bit and i wanted to give you a proper answer so here we go lmao

10. A character you find underrated?

i mean ig ive said it before but rodrigue and also hanneman, tho for different reasons. i think that rodrigue gets vilified by a large part of the fandom bc of things felix says abt him as a traumatised and emotionally stunted teenager that aren't actually true - but people tend to take him at his word and so rodrigue gets cast as the classic bad fire emblem dad when he's actually one of the more supportive and involved fathers on the entire 3h cast.

hanneman's an old guy to the point that he's more gilf than dilf and also a total side character which by default makes him uninteresting to most people in fandom, plus he's kind of shit as a unit gameplay wise. however 1) i think he's hot 2) he has some very interesting supports where he gets to be a caring and dependable mentor or father figure (marianne) but that still allow him his own character growth and to look at things from new perspectives despite his age and experience (like his chain w/ lysithia).

27. Any fanfics/fan content you'd recommend? (You can plug your own stuff it's fine)

oohhh i am completely obsessed with The Lion and the Bear by notallbees. it's a dimivain fic in which sylvain, felix and ingrid all grew up with lambert, though lambert still died and they protect dimitri now. this is from the summary:

Sylvain ran his gaze over Dimitri and laughed under his breath. "You've grown again."

"Not on purpose," Dimitri said, and smiled when his words made Sylvain laugh. "I am so glad you've come. How was your journey? Will you be staying long?"

Sylvain grinned, holding up his hands in surrender. "One question at a time, lad," he said, then paused and glanced around them. "Forgive my manners," he said, taking a step back so that he could offer Dimitri a subtle bow, inclining his head and shoulders. "Your Royal Highness."

WEAK for the 'lad' dynamic. anyway most of the story takes place at gautier, where dimitri goes with sylvain alone to be with his favourite person in the world celebrate his birthday. i am crying shaking sobbing every time i read this fic (and i re-read it a lot). the chemistry and comradery and tenderness between sylvain and dimitri is so beautiful, i just can't get over it. the way their relationship grows and the writing itself, it's just gorgeous. full disclosure: dimitri is 16 in this fic whereas sylvain is probably in his late 30s or early 40s, and a lot of their relationship is centred around an 'older mentor/younger protégé' dynamic that might make people uncomfortable. im absolutely enchanted with it every time i read it, however, and though i am an age gap and mentor/protégé relationship enjoyer, i don't usually go in for the underage stuff, so maybe? give it a try?

other than that i also really enjoyed Survivor's Burden by lalabelle, a dimiclaude fic that takes place right after gronder. i'll put the summary here:

Claude had plans. Plans to turn the tides, to end this horrific war of attrition that has been going on for far too long. To convince the Faerghus army to work together, to combine their efforts to take down the Adrestian army and end this senseless war once and for all. Then he sees Dimitri.

He’s a monster, a mess, and a beast of a man. He’s violent and unpredictable and indiscriminate in his slaughter, working through the field like a man possessed, the strength of the crest of Blaiddyd coursing through his veins. They never stood a chance.

this is a fic in which dimitri is very much 'feral', for lack of a better word, so if that's not your cup of tea i'd advise against it, but it isn't used to generate smut or anything. rather, claude decides to save dimitri and take him off of the battlefield and into the forest after which they have to flee into the forests, and then he has to try and keep the both of them alive. for most of the fic dimitri is in a very dark and deep place mentally, which means that he is somewhat primal in his interactions, but what i love about this fic is that despite being terrified and broken his protective and caring personality still shines through, trying to help claude out there in the wilderness. and in return claude tries his hardest to take care of dimitri, who ofc is pretty severly wounded after gronder. besides their characterisations it's again the slow development of their relationship that really makes me appreciate this fic so much, it feels very natural.

37. What's a weird theory or headcanon you have?

i really like fleshing out worldbuilding for adrestia, faerghus and leicester, especially with the help of historical nations and cultures. i like to think of leicester as a fusion between the italian city states in the late middle ages and the dutch republic. in my mind, their cities are a lot like venice or other northern italian cities such as firenze and siena. i envision the alliance as a country that is very centred on trade, and not just within fódlan - much like the italian city states and the dutch republic, which got their riches through trade! also it's canon that it's an alliance between different territories that don't always get along, which is textbook dutch republic. and the dutch republic had a very strong fleet for a while, which is also something that i imagine leicester to have.

faerghus is largely russian in my mind, because it's such a cold and harsh place to live - ive read 'russia and the russians' by geoffrey hoskings, and a lot of stuff about medieval russia can be copy-pasted right onto faerghus for how well it fits in-universe. like, russia might be huge, but it's cold and a lot of its land is actually kind of shit, agriculturally speaking, and obviously this has implications for the way people can live their lives! i always think of faerghans as especially hardened people, from peasants to knights, simply because of that background. these environmental circumstances also mean that faerghus does not have much to trade with, but is fódlan's main provider of wood and furs, much like scandinavia in the 1500s-1600s. in military (and feudal) terms i prefer to look to medieval and early modern france, however. i don't think faerghus would have a strong navy, because their only access to sea is to the north, but with their martial culture and focus on knights they would have a very strong standing army. i actually have a lot of thoughts on feudalism in fódlan as well but i won't get into that rn bc this post is already getting super long lmao

adrestia is not just an empire, but actively imperialistic, and so for me it is a mixture between nineteenth century great britain and nineteenth and twentieth century germany/prussia (which, come on guys, there's eagles on the adrestian flag too). there is something haughty about the way they view their culture and how the other two countries in fódlan are regarded that i feel fits very well with british attitudes towards, well, everything, in the 1800s. i also have some associations with ancient rome, partly because of the imperialism and the arrogance and partly because there's a bunch of neoclassical architecture on empire combat maps (still losing it at the amfitheatre tho). i think they'd both want to have a great army and a great navy, though their ships would not be as well-built as the leicester ones. they'd be big on trade overseas but since they have all the grain they need, it is more for luxury items than foodstuffs. i also think that part of their army would be drafted or made up of mercenaries (a very common historical practice!) to amass numbers, whereas faerghus' army is smaller (i think there's a significant difference in population numbers between faerghus and the other two countries) but qualitatively much better because of their martial culture.

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound IV”

Taylor opens her eyes, just once, then closes them immediately. The entire room is spinning again. Her eyes are glued together, her vision blurry. She should’ve taken an Advil before bed. She should’ve prevented this. With a loud groan, she turns around in bed, the blanket only covering one half of her body. She swallows once, can obviously feel how dry her throat is. Taylor wants to move, wants to get up and tell herself that this is a new day, a new beginning, a new chance. All of these positive affirmations that she’s been growing up with. But today, she can’t. Maybe it was the late night whiskey while being all alone that was a bad idea. Maybe it was taking step closer to Joe and his family, which truly has been a bad idea after all. 

Taylor takes another deep breath, holds her hand. She’s tired. Emotionally even more than physically. She slowly sits up. A stinging pain in her head keeping her from moving further. She looks to the side, could’ve sworn that she ensured to have a water bottle next to her bed. But the only thing she finds on the nightstand next to her is the whiskey glass. Almost empty. Disgusted at herself, Taylor moves her legs to dangle down the left side of the bed. She just sits upright, feels how dizzy she still is. When she was twenty- three and the world was against her, Taylor would always feel a sense of direction deep within her. As bad as it was, and as destructive as her dealing mechanisms may have been - she always knew this was just a phase. Just a bad month, a bad occurrence. A bad relationship. But now, at age 32, she doesn’t feel a sense of direction anymore. Even more so, she feels like she’s been on the right path. For a long time. Until she decided to leave it. Decided to go so incredibly wrong. All of that, while being a mother. Taylor swallows, stands up on the soft carpet on her bedroom floor. Barefoot and with nothing but her oversized sleeping shirt, Taylor makes her way down the stairs. Her eyes immediately fall onto the big window fronts. With swollen eyes and dried mascara on her cheek, she can’t help but smile tiredly. The world is white. Taylor can already see Eleanor before her eyes, having woken up hours ago and excitedly jumping around the Christmas tree. She’s happy it has snowed. She’s happy Eleanor is with Joe and his family. Where there’s more happiness. Where she can make these happy childhood Christmas memories that Taylor always wanted for her little girl. Even before she was born. 

Taylor reaches for the blue coffee mug on the top shelf in the kitchen. She quickly turns on the coffee machine and waits silently for the warm brew to enter her cup. Maybe, just maybe, Eleanor is happier staying with Joe and Naomi, and Elizabeth and Richard. Not with her, right now, on this day. She doesn’t know how to be a mother when deep inside, she’s the lost teenage girl again. She’s never gone through this scenario when becoming a mother. She’s never been prepared that something might hit her that would absolutely numb her from being Eleanor’s mommy. From putting on a fake smile, just to be there for Eleanor. Taylor swallows the hot beverage, knows even without looking into the mirror how horrible she looks. Her shoulder long hair curly and in all directions, mascara under her eyes, bangs all messed up. She slowly grabs her phone, tabs two times to open the chat with Joe. She stares at their last exchanged messages for a few seconds. And she swallows again. 

I can’t wait to have you two here, see you soon. 

How ironic, that she actually felt like he had other reasons to invite her over. Other reasons than to finally move on from her. 

Hey, Merry Christmas. I woke up not feeling great and don’t want to risk anything, so I think I’ll be staying home today. I’ll call later to speak to E. Merry Christmas to your family, give E a kiss from me. 

Taylor drops her phone on the marble counter, doesn’t even care if the fall was a bit too harsh. She then grabs her coffee mug and wanders up the stairs again. This time though, she doesn’t go back to her messed up bed and the empty whiskey glass that is waiting for her like a cloud of guilt, in the middle of her house. Instead, she walks straight to the piano room. With bare legs, she slowly sits down on the little chair right in front of the massive piano. For a second, she just sits there, then lifts the piano lid slowly. She doesn’t even move, just takes a last sip of her coffee before placing the mug right on top of the piano. Her fingers slowly brush each key, low undefined sounds coming from the instrument. She’s never been good at life. But this was all she’s had. All she could really get right. All she will ever understand. 

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? 

Taylor begins to follow this voice inside of her. Without thinking too much, she lets her hands do the work. Wanders from key to key, until there’s a melody that speaks for her.

 ____________________

��Mommy, I also got the new tonniebox that I wanted. And daddy and me also read me the note that Santa left for me. Santa wrote a note, just for me!” the little girl babbles into her mother’s ears. Taylor, who’s still just in her PJs, sits on the sofa now. Coffee number three in her hands, her hair still as messed up as before. She laughs quietly on the phone, can see her daughter’s excited little face in front of her eyes. “Of course he did. You’re such a good person, and you know that Santa always has an eye on that. And he’s so proud of you, same as me.” Taylor says, consciously didn’t tell her that she’s been a ‘good girl’, this year. She’s learned the difference between society telling you you’re a ‘good girl’ and actually being a good person. There’s worlds between these two things. Taylor can hear the background noises, Elizabeth probably rushing to prepare breakfast for everyone. Just when Eleanor was done telling Taylor about her presents, she can hear Joe in the background. Asking her if ‘mummy’s still on the phone’. Taylor swallows. It takes less than five seconds and she can hear Joe’s voice. He sounds careful, almost worried, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Her text this morning was probably too obvious. He knows her too well, probably can tell already that she’s been to overwhelmed by last night. Too overwhelmed meeting Naomi. Too overwhelmed seeing Joe with another woman. For the first time in a decade. For the first time ever. 

He asks her if she’s feeling better, if she can make it to join them for lunch. How important it would be for Eleanor to have her mum there. Taylor feels sick, just hearing his voice again. Maybe it’s the coffee on her empty stomach, or it’s the warmth in his deep voice, that has captured her from the first time he opened his mouth, ages ago, through all the noise, on a warm LA summer night. 

“I don’t know if it’s safe for me to come over, especially with covid and.. I do feel a scratch in my throat. So I think it’s better if…”

“We all got tested yesterday. It’s impossible that…”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like crap,” she says, hoping he would finally stop. Taylor hears his silence on the end of the phone line. He knows. She knows that he knows. 

“Of course, I’m sorry for pressuring you. It’s just… it’s Christmas Day and…”

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me.” She then says, still feels sad whenever he does. She needs to stop doing this. Needs to stop subconsciously mirroring him. Caring so much and so deeply about his happiness that she adjusts whenever he’s feeling some type of way. Suddenly, Taylor can hear Eleanor in the background. She is asking about mommy. Asking when mommy is coming over. Taylor feels this pressure on her chest again. Is she abandoning her daughter right now? Because she can’t get over her own feelings? 

“Eleanor wants to.. wants to speak to you again.” He says then and Taylor can hear him handing over the phone. It takes one whiny “mommy” and Taylor knows she needs to get up, get freshened up, get over herself. She’s not twenty- three anymore. She can’t just care solely for herself anymore. She can’t just stay right here. 

____________________

With a bad tummy ache, Taylor stares out of the window, watching all the naked trees in the dim light. 

You left me no choice but to stay here forever. 

For whatever reason, these lyrics are stuck in her head and she knows that she needs to write them down tonight. Just when the car stops, Taylor feels a rush of nausea overcome her. She unbuckles her seatbelt and nods at her driver. She thanks him underneath her mask, swallows hard as she sees the family home just meters away from her, behind the glass of the car where she’s still sitting in the backseat. She feels unable to move, but does it anyways. After a few seconds, she’s left the car, wearing black jeans and boots and nothing but a plaid blouse underneath her coat. She slowly takes off the mask, remains there in front of the house. She’s doing this for Eleanor. She’s doing this because she’s got a responsibility. Because she’s an adult now. Taylor slowly takes a few steps up to the entry through the thin layer of snow on the ground, can already smell Elizabeth’s cherry pie through the open window that leads right to the hallway. Taylor knows she looks better than a few hours ago. Her hair and face clean. Mascara where it’s supposed to be. Blush on her lips and cheeks. Almost as if nothing had happened to her. Nothing at all. With a slight nauseous feeling, Taylor was about to ring the doorbell but stopped in the last second, as the big door opened by itself already. A bit surprised and startled, Taylor looks at Elizabeth. And the fifty- year old woman looks back at her. It’s this uncomfortable and insecure silence between them for a few seconds. But even before Taylor can say anything, Elizabeth’s face changes into a warm smile. A relief that has run through Taylor’s veins immediately. 

“Oh hi there, I knew I heard a car pull up.” 

Taylor nods, was just about to answer as Elizabeth already pulls her inside the house and inside her arms. This is still new to her. This is still overwhelming. Taylor closes her eyes and feels Elizabeth’s hands on her back, stroking her back up and down. She immediately feels tears building up, swallows them down in the last second, just when the brown haired woman pulls back and smiles at her. 

“Are you feeling better?” She asks, a well- knowing look on her face, as she already takes Taylor’s coat from her. Taylor, who feels welcomed but trapped at the same time, just nods quietly. She doesn’t really want to talk about it. 

“Yeah I felt a bit off this morning.” she mumbles. Elizabeth places a hand on her back as soon as she’s put the coat away and walks with Taylor into the kitchen. Like a wildcat in fight mode, Taylor hectically looks through the living room but nobody’s there. That’s not quite what she expected to find. 

“Where..”

“Oh they’re all upstairs on the attic looking through Joe’s old theatre costumes.” Elizabeth laughs, begins to stir the sauce she’s preparing on the stove. Taylor just nods, doesn’t really know how to act or move. She just takes a deep breath standing there. An old Christmas CD from the 90s is playing. The lights on the Christmas tree are lid. The cooker hood making dump noises. Elizabeth looks up at Taylor again, can see her awkwardly standing there, leaning against the counter next to her. 

“We’re very happy to have you here, you know.” She says then and Taylor feels how she blushes. She never thought Elizabeth would ever say something like this to her ever again. Not after she and Eleanor left her son. Not after the last Christmas. 

“I’m happy to be here as well.” Taylor then answers and Elizabeth steals her another look, then giggles quietly. 

“Are you really?” 

Taylor feels like she’s freezing for a while. She doesn’t know what to do with this answer. 

“Of course, I.. I’m so thankful we’re speaking again and..”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” She says and Taylor knows what she knows. It must be written all over her face. A face that says ‘he’s moved on, I haven’t’. Taylor doesn’t say anything, as Elizabeth turns down the temperature of the stove and turns around at her. 

“We should go for a walk soon. Catch up a bit.” 

Taylor immediately smiles and nods a few times. Even if she feels like hell is loose, this offer definitely made her smile a bit more. It took exactly seven seconds to pass, as multiple steps come down the stairs and Eleanor screams excitedly, let’s go off her grandfather’s hand to run towards her mom. 

“Mommy!” She screams and Taylor laughs for the first time really today, lifts up the small girl and holds her on her hip smiling. “Monkey, hello.” Taylor smiles, Eleanor and her automatically leaning in for a kiss on the lips which is followed by Taylor stealing her cheek another kiss. Just as she wished Eleanor another merry Christmas, is when she notices Naomi’s warm smile facing them. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor feels irritated again, holds onto the little girl on her arm as if she’s holding onto her life. 

“Oh darling, are you so happy your mummy’s joined too?” Elizabeth strokes over Eleanor’s curls after having watched the scene between Eleanor and Taylor with a smile. She knows that after all, Taylor’s an incredible mother. A quality that she knew she’s got from the very first day they met. Right in this house. A decade ago. “Yes.” Eleanor mumbles into Taylor’s neck and they all laugh quietly. Just in that second, Joe also joins the family kitchen and smiles warmly at Taylor. He’s glad she’s made it. 

“Someone’s glad her mum’s here, huh?” he then laughs at his daughter. Taylor was about to answer him, but his hand that casually lands on Naomi’s shoulder keeps her from opening her mouth.“Ellie, are you so happy you can show mummy your presents now?” the petite woman says, looking at Eleanor who’s still on Taylor’s arm. Ellie. Just in that moment, Eleanor turns her head grumpily, and goes “My name is Eleanor”. Taylor tries her hardest not to smile, but her mini- me seems to have hit the nail in the head here. Joe immediately laughs, both hands on Naomi’s shoulders now. “Darling, why don’t you show your mum what Santa Claus left under the tree this morning for her?” He says with a grin, obviously wanted to change topics to make sure that the awkward mood in the room diminishes. In that second, Eleanor moves on Taylor’s arm quickly and signals her that she wants to get down. 

Together with Eleanor, Taylor now walks into the living room, knees down in front of Eleanor’s presents. 

“Look, this one’s from Santa for mummy.” She says with a bright smile and Taylor decides to sit down on the carpet while opening her present. 

“Mhm what could that be?” She says, swallows hard as she finally takes a good look at what’s in her hands. A colored polaroid of Joe and Eleanor, smiling into the camera is placed in the middle of the green card. Surrounded by little Christmas stickers and drawn Christmas trees with glitter hearts on them, both Eleanor and Joe have their heads stuck together, smiling the purest smiles into the camera. She can see Joe’s arm holding the camera. Of course she’s had some help with this present. Right underneath the picture, Eleanor has placed a smiling heart sticker and wrote “from Eleanor and daddy” in her messy handwriting, just the way a first grader would do. Taylor looks at the card, tears forming in her eyes. She doesn’t want to get emotional now. Doesn’t want to get emotional here in this room. But the two humans, who are so innocently smiling in this picture, still mean the world to her. 

“I love it so much.” She says then quietly, hopes that no one else has seen her get teary. Eleanor looks confused at her mum, but Taylor just laughs, wipes away the tears on her cheeks and immediately hugs her. “This is so beautiful that I got super emotional, honey.” She laughs, soothing Eleanor a bit. And the little girl nods, seems to accept Taylor’s answer. 

“I made the card, but Santa wrapped it up and put it under the tree.” 

Taylor laughs and nods before getting up. Especially, because to Eleanor - it actually makes a lot of sense.

“That’s so nice of him. I’m so happy Santa brought me this beautiful card.” She says, takes Eleanor’s hand before joining the others around the table. 

____________________

It’s been an hour now since Taylor consciously made the decision to have a conversation with the left side of the big table - Patrick and his girlfriend Jess. It’s been so wonderful reconnecting with him, hearing about his plans for after his masters degree. Hearing Jess talk about how they met, their struggles to find an affordable flat in northwest London and how excited they are to drive up to Denmark together once this coronavirus situation is over. Taylor has made the conscious effort to ignore Naomi, Joe and Tom who are seated on the other half of the table. Taylor knows she can’t block the new woman on this table out, but she clearly is taking every chance she’s got to engage in other conversations. Just when Eleanor is tapping attentively on her shoulder is when Taylor looks up and finds Naomi, Joe and Eleanor all dressed up. Apparently ready to go for a walk. A bit confused, Taylor looks at Joe and then back at Eleanor. 

“We’re going out for a walk with Flint, do you want to join us?” 

Taylor immediately shakes her head, an answer that came a bit too fast. 

“Oh thanks for asking but I think you should go without me.” she mumbles, the last thing she wants to do right now is go for a walk with Naomi and Joe. Eleanor however continues to pull her hand, seems to have made up her mind that her mum has to join them today. Just when Taylor was about to talk to Eleanor is when Joe already speaks up. His voice in the same gentle tone that he’s always put on when they had a serious conversation. 

“Actually, it would be fantastic if we could just... talk a bit? Who knows when’s the next time that we can all get together?” he says, Naomi just standing next to him, smiling hopefully and nodding with big eyes. Taylor knows that she’s being unreasonable but she would wish that Naomi wasn’t a petite and small woman, who’s got huge eyes, seems a bit shy and radiates this incredible kindness that sickens her whenever she enters the room. She wants Naomi to be someone she can passionately hate. Someone who’s toxic and mean, who gives off bad energy. But instead, she seems to be a kind, ordinary, bi- racial woman. Someone who Taylor would want to be friends with. The last person who Taylor would have wanted as her replacement. The better choice. The easier choice.

“Yeah it would be fun to.. catch up!” Naomi then says to Taylor in her British accent, sounding a bit unsure whether she’s been taking it too far. Taylor swallows. She’s got no arguments left. If she still decides to not go with them, then she would be the bad cop. A decision she doesn’t want to have to take. Taylor slowly gets up, nods and puts on a fake smile as Eleanor already cheers on her. She seems to be way more excited than Taylor is. 

“Alright, it’s fine.” Taylor mumbles, can feel Elizabeth’s stare in her neck. She knows that it’s not fine. Not at all. 

A bit insecure, just like she was back then, Taylor slowly puts in her boots that were left in the hallway. Joe watches her and he knows this isn’t easy for her. But knowing Taylor, he also is aware that things will feel way easier once she gets to know Naomi. Once she sees that she’s so respected by someone who doesn’t even know her. Once she sees that he wants her in his life. Forever. No matter what the circumstances are. 

Joe remains standing in the hallway, watches Eleanor and Naomi with Flint leave the doorway already. Joe remains standing there, looks down at Taylor who’s still fixing her boots. Once she gets up, she exchanges a look with him and he smiles. Taylor is rolling her eyes. 

I can’t believe you make me do this.

Thank you for doing this.

With her hands in her coat, Taylor slowly starts walking next to Joe. She feels awkward to say the least. Going for a walk with Joe, their child and his new girlfriend. Naomi carefully slows down to walk right next to Joe, and seems to be more than interested to start a conversation with Taylor. 

“It’s such a beautiful weather isn’t it? I can’t believe it started snowing last night.” Naomi says and Taylor nods, can see in the corner of her eye that Joe is holding hands with her. And Taylor feels sick. To say the least. 

“Eleanor was so sad these past weeks cause it hadn’t snowed yet, so she’s ecstatic today.” Joe laughs and everyone reacts except for Taylor. She usually is excellent in smalltalk, and Joe knows that. But seeing her so quiet makes him think that it’s not even a statement she’s giving him - she probably really is at a loss for words. 

“Are you feeling better?” Joe asks her and Taylor slowly looks up, looks straight at Eleanor who’s holding Flint in her hands while walking down the street. 

“Yeah definitely.” She says, doesn’t even try to sound like she’s okay with it. Slowly but surely, she feels rage develop in her chest. She cannot believe he’s making her do this. She cannot believe after everything they’ve been though, he can just go for a walk with Eleanor and her and his new girlfriend. 

“Are you usually based in London or in America, Taylor?” Naomi then asks and Taylor can feel immediately that she’s been desperate to start a conversation with her. Taylor feels her staring at her. But she can’t face her just yet.

“Well Eleanor’s pre- school is based in London so we’re mainly here. But before covid we would travel a lot between Nashville and London.” she answers, feels actually kind of proud that she’s grown up enough to not become mean or sarcastic towards Naomi. And she can feel Joe do the same. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s proud how civil she can be. 

“Wow must be nice to have homes all over the world.” Naomi says and Joe laughs quietly. She cannot believe he’s laughing at her. Cannot believe he would be with someone who’s from an entirely different world. But then again, wasn’t that what Joe was to her back then? A sweet escape from the crowded and abnormal world she’s been living in. Taylor dares to look to her left and she can see Naomi looking at her steps carefully. Maybe, Naomi is Joe’s escape from her. The most painful thought she’s had for a while.

“Well, I’m sure Joe already told you that living in two different countries at the same time isn’t as exciting as you may think.” Naomi laughs quickly, and anyone who would witness this conversation could tell immediately that Naomi is nervous. Taylor hates it. Taylor hates how nice she is. 

“Well, I was raised in southwest London and my family never could afford to travel. So to me, all of that sounds lovely.” Taylor says nothing.

“Daddy, can you help me with Flint’s collar?” Eleanor suddenly yells, already is a good six hundred meters in front of them. Joe immediately nods, starts jogging towards his daughter. Taylor and Naomi are now left behind, slowly continue walking down the street. And without taking a closer look at Naomi, Taylor can feel how happy the other woman seems to be that she has some alone time with Taylor now. 

“It sounds ridiculous, I’m sure, but you have no idea how scared I was to meet you.” Naomi then says and Taylor wishes she never would’ve started this topic. She doesn’t know anything about Naomi and she wants things to stay this way. “When I was younger I had all of your albums at my house and... I really admire you a lot.”

“Thanks.” Taylor answers, as emotionless as possible. And she can sense that Naomi feels the cold that she radiates right now. How can Joe expect her to bond with his new girlfriend on Christmas? How can he think that her love for him has ever diminished? It never could. And he used to know that. The silence between the tall blonde woman in the big black coat and the smaller woman in the red puff jacket gets louder. Taylor feels uncomfortable and she for sure knows that Naomi feels the same. 

“I know you hate me.” Naomi then says and Taylor sighs. Her anger gets more with every single word she says. 

“I don’t hate you.”

“No, I mean.. I get it. And I feel so sorry for...”

“What do you feel sorry for?” Taylor asks, a bit too aggressive for her usual self. 

“I’m sorry that Joe is making us meet over Christmas. It wasn’t my idea. I hope you know that. But I think he just... he wants things to become easier. With us. With you and your daughter. I think he just wants to finally have some peace.”

Naomi’s last sentence rips Taylor’s insides apart. She knows that she’s right. That she just said what Taylor sang years ago. Joe just wants to have peace in his life. With a partner who can give him that. With her as an ex- girlfriend and with his child. That’s all he wants. Taylor and Naomi just keep walking down the street, nothing but the gravel under their soles can be heard. 

“You know, I will never become someone for him like you were.” Naomi then says and Taylor starts to feel sick. She can’t believe that this woman won’t stop talking. It almost feels painful hearing her voice in her ears. “You... you were his first real love. Whenever we talk about these things...” she sighs, then looks back up at Tay. “He speaks a lot about you and I think there’s just so many things he’s still digesting. Please don’t ever think that..”

“Naomi...” Taylor then interrupts her because she feels like throwing up. She can’t believe that the little person next to her is opening up to her if it she was an old friend. And maybe, exactly that kindness is what drives her insane. Because deep down, Taylor knows that Joe deserves someone as caring as that. Someone who helps him heal the wounds that she created. “I don’t hate you, Naomi. But I also need you to respect that I need time. Can we not talk about Joe anymore?”

Naomi looks at Taylor with big eyes, immediately nods. She seems intimidated by the tall blonde woman and Taylor can feel how guilty she feels. Naomi shakes her head, then turns to Taylor. “God, Taylor, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just thought maybe it would be the right way to just.. be really honest with you, but you’re so right, it was super insensible, and...”

“It’s fine.” Taylor then says, enjoys the sudden silence between them more than she expected. Taylor slowly looks up, can see Joe walking hand in hand with Eleanor. His hand lands on Eleanor’s head, and even from far away, Taylor can hear that she’s singing her favorite Christmas song. Taylor can’t help but smile for a second. Maybe, just maybe, it was all meant to be this way. Taylor still remembers ten years ago, when she first moved to New York and discovered slowly that with the lifestyle she chose, having a family and a committed relationship would be impossible. Maybe, just maybe, she was right back then. Taylor sees Joe jogging backwards, making Eleanor laugh. He seems so happy today. Playing with Eleanor, knowing he’s found someone who can give him the kind of life he was always used to, before her. The kind of life he craves. Taylor suddenly feels a new feeling in her chest. It’s a feeling she read about multiple times but never had experienced herself before, in the truest form she could imagine. She just wants him to be happy. Even if it means that she’s not part of his life anymore. At least not in the way she used to be. And she wants him to ‘digest’ whatever she did to him. Wants someone to help him heal the scars that she gave him. 

“Look at that house, baby, oh my god.” Taylor squeaks for the fifteenth time in the past hour, stops in the middle of the street again. Joe grins, takes a step back to see what she’s looking at. A tiny house in brick stone with a French balcony right on the canal. He looks down at the blonde woman and laughs. She quickly reaches for her crossbody bag, takes out her phone and takes a picture. He can’t help but laugh. 

“We’ll  go home on Sunday and you have two hundred pictures of dutch houses on your phone.” Taylor grins, but doesn’t let him stop her. She just continues to take pictures, then buries her phone in her bag again and reaches for his hand once more. In nothing but her jeans shorts, white sneakers and huge sweatshirt, Taylor walks next to Joe. It’s a lukewarm summer night. With both hands now clinging onto Joe’s, they just continue to walk down the small street somewhere here in Amsterdam. 

“I’m just in awe that there’s people living here, in this.. dream city. It’s so cozy and gorgeous. I just… Joe, I could cry how romantic this is.” Joe, who’s still walking hand in hand next to her just looks down at her with a big smile. His blonde hair a bit too long. His beard grown for his upcoming movie role. He just smiles, gets closer to her and presses a gentle kiss onto her lips. She tastes like the rose chapstick she applied earlier. 

“I’m glad you like it.” he then says, continues walking down this lane. Taylor’s eyes are everywhere right now. She’s smitten by the city, smitten by the fact that she’s experiencing this. A weekend in a beautiful European city with the love of her life. No big black cars. No security around her. She feels so free with him, so safe, so… alive.

“Thanks for taking me here and organizing everything.” She mumbles. The sun is slowly setting and she’s glad she put on her sweater. “You’re very welcome. We’re almost there.” Joe says, keeps looking at his phone to make sure they’re not missing the right lane. “I think we need to go that way.” He says, points to a tiny alley on the left. Taylor looks at him and then back at the tiny street and just laughs. “God, I fucking love Europe” she laughs, holds onto his hand a bit tighter as they make their way through the alley. Joe looks back at her and she’s amused, carefully watches her steps on the cobblestones to not trip or fall. 

“Where are you taking me? Do I have to be scared?” She asks, and Joe laughs. 

“I’m taking you out to dinner, I already told you that.” he says all smart and Taylor just shakes her head. 

“I’m really hungry. Where are we...”, within a few seconds Taylor gets quieter because she’s speechless. Just as they left the  tiny street, a massive canal with a beautiful bridge that fully lid up by small lights is right in front of them. And Taylor feels like she’s in a movie. “Beautiful here, huh?” he smiles and Taylor remains speechless. 

“Do you see this restaurant?” he asks, points to three small tables that are located right on the bridge next to the canal. Taylor just looks up at him, can’t believe he picked this romantic little restaurant for the two. 

“Are you kidding me? This is... oh my god.” With a proud smile, Joe starts walking closer to the small restaurant. Just as they stand in front, Joe starts speaking to the waiter who then accompanies Taylor and Joe to their outside table - a tiny round table on the small bridge right over the Amsterdam canal. Taylor, who truly seems to be at a loss for words just sits down together with Joe. And the blonde haired man has to laugh at her reaction. Her eyes as big as the eyes of a child and her jaw still dropped. 

“Do you like it?” he asks laughing, knows the answer himself. Taylor still looks around, unable to process how beautiful her surrounding is. She’s used to big city lights and massive crowds. But what Joe is presenting her here is quiet and calm beauty. The sunset over the old Dutch roofs. The view over the canal right from this little bridge. People who pass the street on the other side with their bikes. It’s quiet and small and beautiful. 

“Joe, this is... this is by far the most romantic restaurant I’ve ever been at. How did you... how did you find this?” she asks, her phone already in her hand, taking pictures of everything around her. And Joe can’t help but smile. This was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to make this special, wanted to show her some of the most beautiful places in the world he knows. He wants to take her to all of them. The special ones and the common ones. 

Just when he was about to open the menu, Taylor tells him to smile at her and he does so. The picture she just took of him makes her smile. He seems so happy, his eyes radiating in this picture right in the centre of this beautiful scenery right here at this restaurant. Taylor looks at this picture for a minute too long. 

This is it. This is her entire happiness. 

With a happy smile, Taylor puts her phone back into her small YSL purse and opens the menu like he just did. “What are you going to eat?” Taylor asks him and Joe smiles slightly, then looks back up at her. 

“Well I’m not sure yet but I already know what you’re gonna get.” Taylor laughs, 

“Okay and what is that?”

“Number 21 - truffle pasta with side salad. Dressing on the side.” Taylor looks back up at him and laughs in surprise again. He just knows her too well.

“Why the fuck do you read me like a book?” she jokes, and Joe can’t help but stare at her for a bit longer. She really does look incredible in this light. Her bangs a bit messy, her hair in a bun. She looks cozy in her sweater. But most of all she looks... happy. 

“I guess I just know you very well.” he says, and Taylor closes the menu and looks back up at him. It’s a loving look, an intimate one. She slowly reaches for his hand across the table and Joe also puts the menu aside. 

“You do. You really do.” she just mumbles and he feels like drowning in her eyes. Just when Joe was about to open his mouth, the waiter had already made his way to them and Joe orders - both main menus and two glasses of the Chardonnay. Taylor’s favorite. 

“Do you ever think about what our lives could be like, living here in one of these tiny houses.” Taylor then says, her eyes on her surroundings. She sounds so dreamy as so often. Her heart is the heart of a little romantic. Joe still holds her hand on the table, strokes the back of it slowly. His eyes are just on her. “Maybe you would be working at the Amsterdam theatre of arts. I would be a writer. We’d both may struggle financially but live in a tiny old flat. You would get me tulips every weekend. We would eat a lot of cheese.” Joe starts laughing then, still looking at Taylor. 

“I don’t think that’s what actual Dutch people  do on the daily, babe.” he laughs, as the waiter already approaches their table and serves them two glasses of wine. Not even for a split second, Taylor lets go off Joe’s hand. With her other hand she’s reaching for the wine glass. 

“Cheers baby. To us. Two years.” she smiles and he does the same.

“Two years. Almost.” he says and she laughs slowly.

“Oh come on, do you really think I’m breaking up with you two weeks before our anniversary?” she laughs and he just shrugs his shoulders. 

“You never know.” Taylor just shakes her head. He is silly at times. 

“But for real now, what if we quit our lives and move to Amsterdam and become ordinary people?” she asks him and Joe has to laugh once more. She really seems to be obsessed with this idea . 

“I don’t know, I like our lives.” he says, feels a sudden nervousness overcome him. It’s the first time since this weekend. The first time that it comes boiling up and scaring him a bit. 

“I mean... our lives are not normal or easy. I would like normal and easy for a while.” Taylor says, looks around herself once more. She can’t wait to send pictures of this beautiful location to her family and friends. They won’t even believe how lucky she’s been. 

“I think normal and easy is not for us. We’re not normal or easy and I love that.” he says, takes a sip off his wine glass. Taylor laughs and looks at him then. 

“No I am not normal or easy. You are though.” she jokes but Joe doesn’t react to her. She knows that it’s one of her weaknesses. Laughing when she’s nervous. Turning things that scare or worry her into a joke. Joe, who still hasn’t replied yet, just keeps staring at her. She’s so uncomfortable all of the sudden. And she never is, especially not when she’s with Joe. 

“You are normal and you are easy too. And I love you.” he says then and Taylor looks back at him. She can see so much in his eyes, in these moments. So much love and kindness, but there’s also something else. He’s holding something back. Deep down, she can feel that. 

“I know you still think you’re a burden and your life’s all complicated and all that..” he then says and Taylor freezes. There’s not been many times where he’s blurted something like this out. Without thinking twice. Just like that. Taylor swallows. Why is it that he can read her mind like that. As If she was an open book to him. “But have you ever thought for a second that you’re the only one out there I ever want to be with? I.. I don’t care about anything like that. All the.. all the complications or the not easiness or the abnormal things about your life. It’s not like that for me. I can’t ever see myself loving someone else again.” He says, ends his little speech with a smile. And Taylor just sits there, at the restaurant, holding his hand. She looks at his face but his words feel too overwhelming for her to process them. She’s had relationships before. But she’s never heard words quite like these. 

“Do you understand me?” he jokes at her speechlessness then, “I can’t be with anyone else ever again. You changed me.” 

“I changed you?” 

“You did.” Joe looks back in her eyes and he can see how deeply emotional she is. This is it, he thinks.

“You changed me, Joe. In so many ways.” He smiles, takes a deep breath, holds her little hand a bit tighter. 

“I know we never spoke about this in all seriousness, but…” he stops again, looks at her hands, before looking back up at her again. He feels shaky all of the sudden. His hands become a bit more sweaty than usually. “But.. how would you feel about.. things getting more serious in the future.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“How would you feel if I asked you to marry me?” Taylor sits there, a soothing evening breeze passing her face. She just smiles at him, doesn’t say anything. Then, without her controlling it, Taylor starts laughing. Loudly. Joe swallows. This was not quite the reaction he was hoping for. 

“Baby, are you proposing to me? Or what is this?” Joe takes a breath, then laughs with her. He’s a bit insecure, but he’s shaking it off quite well. Acting school seems to have paid off.

“I’m not, I just wanted to speak to you about it. I mean… do you ever want to get married and have kids, or what are your plans in like… years down the road.” 

“Of course I want to marry you. And I want us to have tall blonde weird ass kids.” she smiles across the table, “but.. we’re not there yet. I mean, we’re not even thirty yet. I just.. I definitely need a bit longer.” She laughs and Joe nods. He also takes a sip of his wine glass now. He definitely needs that. 

“Do you feel differently?” She asks him then and he shakes his head. 

“No, no I fully agree with you. I mean.. I’m 27. Way too young.” he mumbles, and Taylor reaches his hand again. 

“Hey, look at me.” she says then, almost whispering because she knows he will hear her. “It’s you and me until the day I die. No matter if you love someone else or.. if you hate me. I will always love you, even when you don’t love me anymore.”

A dog barks at the end of the road. The soft snow underneath her boots creak slightly. For the first time since minutes, Taylor looks up in front of her again. Joe and Eleanor are still a good three hundred meters in front of them, have now started to pick a snowball fight. Just the two of them. And the tall man seems unlucky, seems to have taught his daughter very well. Every now and then, he acts as if Eleanor’s snowball hit him very hard. Harder than humanly possible. And Eleanor loves it, giggles excitedly while speaking to Flint about her next move. 

You left me. You left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

Taylor feels her body vibrating. She immediately stops, turns around at the woman next to her. “Uhm Naomi, can you.. can you walk up to Joe and tell him I need to finish something really quick. He.. he’ll know. See you later.” Naomi nods a bit confused, and it’s only then that Taylor notices how insecure the woman seems. She’s looking at Taylor, trying hard to understand her. Trying hard to read her. It’s this moment, in which Taylor understands that it’s also not easy being in her position. She’s the one who wasn’t there. Who hasn’t lived through the past years. 

But Joe and her did. Every second. 

More determined than before, she then turns around, already picks her phone as soon as she’s a few meters away from her. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor opens her recording app, stares at her phone for a few seconds and closes the app again. She then goes back to her picture folder, scrolls up for a few seconds. Right until she’s found it. Found something she didn’t want to see for a long time. 

07.54pm, Amsterdam, Netherlands, September 4th, 2018. 

Her phone still reminds her. Taylor stares at this picture for a while. Joe indeed, looked so happy. Sitting in the small restaurant by the canal. Holding her hand. Believing that they were forever. Having his mum’s ring in his pocket. Little did he know then that this evening would be the first time she would refuse his proposal. Taylor touches his face on the screen for a few seconds, then closes the app again. She goes back into her recordings, holds the phone close to her and begins to sing quietly. She doesn’t want anyone to notice her. To notice her singing nonsense into her phone - which has been the only dealing mechanism she’s ever known. She closes her eyes, right on this snowy winter day, and she’s back. Back in Amsterdam. Back in summer. 

“Help, I'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right..”

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 22 - Not Strong Enough

Masterlist; Chapter 21

Summary: You reunite with Neil aboard the icebreaker. With the tension amping up and the mission nearing it’s finale, you have a difficult time making sense of everything. 

Warnings: angst (yep, loads of it), swearing.

Author’s Notes: Here it is, finally! Know it took me ages, and I’m so sorry for that. Hopefully from now on it won’t be as bad... This one was fun to write since there’s a lot of emotions to go through :)) Hope you’ll enjoy! Let me know what you think!

PS. Now that we’re onto the icebreaker chapters let me just say that I’ve got a lot planned ;) and I’m excited to share it so thank you all who have sticked around <3 

The moment you stepped out of the inversion chambers and into the normal world (well, normal but looking fucked up to you and eight days previously), Ives received the promised further instructions. Get to Trondheim with the local squad, regroup with the reinforcements there, get on board the icebreaker equipped with the inversion technology. At least that was the information you got. Easy. Well, almost, but thankfully nothing seemed to depend on you. Yet. So, you followed the rest of the squad onto the chinook, ignoring the phone that never rang anymore. That was okay. You would not even know what to tell Neil if he called. In less than two hours, you were on military transport to Norway. Again.

In the tense silence of those hours of flight, it was easy to rest. At least you have changed the setting and could focus on stressing about all that was to come instead of the personal matters. Yes, you would have to face Neil and probably work with him as though nothing happened. But the more pressing matter was the potential world ending. For that, you could endure the pain. Focusing on avoiding hyperventilation through the mask, you fell asleep, giving in to the tiredness. When Wheeler shook you awake hours later, you have landed at the base in Trondheim. The icebreaker was supposed to cross by the shore on the next day, leaving the night to be camped out in the military containers on the periphery of the base.

You were lucky to land a spot in the container shared with Wheeler, as she was second in command, and you were still considered ‘precious cargo’. Precious to whom you had no idea. But that did not matter. After a quick meal made up of tin food and weak tea from the thermos, your roommate left for an inspection of the troops and a confab with Ives. You had peace. Taking off the unnecessary layers of clothing, you intended to use the time to curl up under the covers and mope. But it was not meant to be. Suddenly the silence of the air-locked container got pierced by your phone ringing. What the hell… Glancing at the display, your heart stopped for a split second. For a moment, you wanted to ignore it. To pretend you are not available. But your heart knew better, unable to give up the possibility of hearing his voice after all this time. Sitting up on the cot, you picked up the phone. A long exhale on the other side followed by…

“Hey”

As simple as that. Fuck. Neil’s voice was enough to trigger the feelings. The husky tone, the tiredness you sensed through that one word alone. The advantage of the phone call was that he could not hide too much. Not from you.

“Hi… um, why…” you trailed off, annoyed at how something so simple could disrupt the fragile peace.

But judging by the long pause, it was not just you for whom the conversation was a struggle. Brilliant.

“TP told me to call you” right, “Give you a run-down of the state of affairs, so tomorrow is easier for us all,” he added, using that professional tone you came to detest.

Call you? The voice of reason tried to break through the amalgamation of thoughts and feelings. It did not make much sense, seeing as TP did not even trust you after the latest revelations.

“Me?” you blurted out.

Anyone else would have been a more obvious choice. But Neil called you. Why? You wanted to add that question to the mix, but before you could do so, he came up with an answer.

“Not exactly, but I’ve decided that you can pass it on to Ives and so on” the uncertainty in his voice ignited the spark.

“I see” that was the only comment you could muster.

But he understood. He cleared his throat before resuming the conversation. An image flashed before your eyes: tired Neil, with ruffled hair, curled up in the armchair in Oslo, glancing at you from the pages of the book you just borrowed him. That stupid soft smile gracing his exquisite features. Eyes sparkling with satisfaction and affection. Enough.

“We’ve managed to save Kat with that stunt in Oslo…” his voice brought you back to the present moment.

That was something. Despite not having even talked to Kat, you felt sympathy towards her.

“I’m glad. Is she alright?” you occupied the shaking hands with picking up pieces of lint off the blanket.

It did not help your racing pulse. Or the increasing ache in your chest.

“Yeah, she’s recovering. There’s a scar, but that’s nothing compared to what could’ve happened”

God knows what made you say the first thing on your mind then:

“We’ve all been scarred… one way or another” as soon as the words left your mouth, you knew that it was too much.

Fucked up again. It was difficult to remember that you were not supposed to share your thoughts with him anymore. That this was not allowed. Once again, so much had to be left unspoken just for the sake of your sanity.

“I know that better than anyone” his response and the sombre tone made you swallow hard.

Of course. You had no doubts he was regretting the decision to take that bullet for you in New York. After all, the scar was there to haunt him for eternity, reminding him of the time and effort wasted on you.

“TP met with Priya in Oslo…” the change of topic was vital, “She told him about the algorithm and got us the icebreaker” Neil explained.

Back to business. Thank God. All would be perfect if it was not for the audible strain in his voice. It was evidently torturing. For both of you.

“Sator’s got it? All of the parts?” clearing your head, you asked the most important of questions.

How fucked were you?

“Yes,” no hesitation.

Very much so. What would life be without a world-ending scenario taking place just when everything was coming apart? Too boring, probably.

“Fuck” you breathed into the phone, taking a beat to think, “Do we know where? When?”

At least anxiety now had a proper anchor. Something to dig into and stay fixed for a while. A constant companion.

“The day of the Kiev opera siege. But I don’t know where, TP won’t tell me” the remorse was palpable, “Kat helped us piece it together. Sator’s dying, and probably intends to kill himself and trigger the dead-drop, activating the algorithm” double fuck.

Could it get worse? You dared not ask. For a moment, you were grateful Neil called you with the news. At least that way, you heard it from someone you trusted. Or once trusted.

“Jesus…” the silence on the other end was almost comforting, “So that’s the plan? To go back and try to stop him…” you trailed off, raking your head for ways to fix things.

Inversion for over a week more was one thing. Actually pulling this off was another. Because you doubted someone like Sator would be unprepared. You could only hope someone had a plan. Or that your helpful texts would come around. One could wish.

“Yes, in essence,” Neil confirmed your thoughts with that ever-present gloom in his tone.

He was worried too. That eternal desire to comfort him nagged at your bruised heart. It would only get worse once he was within your reach. The collision was unavoidable.

“Okay,” suddenly you wanted nothing but to end the call and sleep, “I’ll let Ives know”

With the awkwardness burning bright, the goodbye was on the tip of your tongue. But…

“I-” Neil cut himself off suddenly.

What? The curiosity was relentless.

“Do you need anything else?” you sat up straighter, forcing the nonchalance.

“No,” after a beat, he added, “Well-”

Christ. There was no power to ignore him.

“Yes?” you stifled the butterflies in your stomach.

It could only hurt more. Surely he would not have anything better to say.

“How are you doing?” the question was dropped with merciless indifference.

You were right. Only he could be that blunt. Unable to keep cool, you cursed out loud:

“Fuck’s sake” taking a deep breath, you gathered all the needed strength to continue, “Neil, do you seriously want me to answer this question?”

There was not enough air in the room. Forcing yourself to calm down, you stared at the wall, counting dents in the metal. Anything to stop the panic.

“I just thought... we’re... I haven’t seen you in over a week and-” he stumbled over the sentence pathetically.

“Maybe it’s better you stop thinking,” you cut him off, feeling the familiar surge of anger “For a while”

How did he dare? You would have thought that he would know better. That he would understand that things changed, and he was no longer allowed access into your mind. But trust Neil to mess it up. To be ignorant of how you felt.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you” the soft tone took you by surprise.

Despite the shock, you were too pissed off to give in.

“... I’m afraid you’ve fucked it then,”

There was no stopping the words that spilled from your throat. They rolled off your tongue, fueled by bitterness and hurt.

“It’s not easy getting over rejection, but then you wouldn’t know that. Everyone wants you. And if they don’t, you move on. No hearts harmed in the process. But not everyone is that lucky” you finished only once there was no breath left in your lungs.

Now he knew. The words hung in the space between you, making the phone seem heavy in your hand. Too much too soon. Just when you thought Neil would not respond, you could hear him take a deep breath before asking:

“Is this really how you understand what I said?” the strange timbre in his voice was confusing.

It was as though he was utterly defeated, devoid of anything but resignation. But why? It was you who were hurting, not him. It made no sense.

“Yes,” that had to suffice.

You already said too much, exposed yourself again. Giving him ammunition to strike when necessary. There was no pretending that you did not care. Or that your misplaced love confession during your last conversation was a lie. A sudden noise at the airlock made you look up. Wheeler entered your shared container, oblivious to the drama taking place. After a second of hesitation, you found that you did not mind the company. Once your eyes met, you just nodded, giving her permission to stay. The sombre half-smile told you she suspected who was on the other end.

“I haven’t pushed you away. When you…” Neil’s voice came through the speaker again.

A hint of desperation. As though he wanted you to understand something obvious. But there was nothing there. You could not forget how he took everything but never gave anything back. It was rather simple.

“There’s a major difference between love and want” stating the truth, you could feel Wheeler’s attentive gaze on you “Doubt you’d push away someone as desperate as I was. Especially when you could have something pleasant out of it. But that doesn’t mean you love me” the strength needed to say those words was all you could manage “I need to go now”

You desperately wanted to bury yourself under the blanket and sleep. Maybe never wake up. That could be nice.

“…I’ll see you tomorrow then” the reluctance tore into the remains of your heart.

Tomorrow. Too soon. You knew there was no way of preparing for it. You would have to endure the unbearable and bear it. The world was more important than your comfort or pride.

“Yes, unfortunately,” the honesty could not hurt anyone.

Least of all Neil. You ended the call before he could say anything else and dropped the phone on the bed. Fuck. Burying your head in the pillow, you tried to level the breathing.

“Are you alright?” Wheeler’s question drifted across the narrow space.

“I will be,” you shrugged, turning to lie on your back and stare at the ceiling.

Emptiness. And even more anxiety. Amazing combo. And all because of that dyed blonde lanky bastard with eyes too blue and jaw too sharp. Trust you to fall for the unattainable.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” you glanced sideways at your companion with a grimace, “He called to give me a summary of the events, so to speak” that part still did not make sense, but who were you to argue.

Wheeler let out a low hum, making you face her. You did not like the suspicious expression on her face. But you were too tired to ask. Ignorance is our ammunition and all that. You resumed the summary with a heart even heavier:

“And then he asked how I am, and I just…” you trailed off, giving in to the feelings, “Christ, I’ve no clue how I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow”

Pathetic, again. You half expected Wheeler to slap you for being an annoying, lovesick teenager pining after her crush. Which you were, in all fairness. But instead, you felt a hand pat your arm reassuringly.

“You’ll manage” glancing up, you met the warm smile of your companion, “You’re strong” before you could argue, she added, “And from what I’ve heard, you two really should talk, so maybe the opportunity will come up” it was her turn to shrug, wandering off to prepare the second cot.

“I suppose” that sounded like a nightmare “Got news for you and Ives, by the way”

You were hoping she will make you go to the squad leader right this moment. That would be a perfect distraction.

“Those can wait till tomorrow, get some sleep”

Well, fuck.

*** The nerves and increasing panic only caught up with you in the containers on the way to the icebreaker. The morning was spent in that blissful motion you needed so badly. You passed on the information to squad leaders, packed up, and got ready for the journey, which commenced after you got a call from the ship’s captain. The time spent on board was too short for your liking. Gripping the duffel back with your belongings, you focused on breathing slowly while the chinook approached the icebreaker, preparing to drop the containers and fly off. Somehow, the rattling and the cramped space of the metal box were almost comforting. No one could hurt you there. There was no one to escape and to hide from. But, of course, that too was over too soon. As the container touched the ground with a thud, making you all jump up, you only had a moment to clench your jaw. Ives stood up and opened the door as you all formed a proper formation for disembarking. The cold, piercing light of the sun hit you in the face as the wind tangled the cord connecting your oxygen tank to the mask. One look around assured you of two things – you would have to get accustomed to the sight of sea and sky for miles and that there was no hiding from Neil.

He was there, stood right next to TP, awaiting your arrival. It took you a moment to get accustomed to his military get-up. The black windbreaker zipped up, cargo pants with armour pads on the knees, and heavy boots. Hair windswept, falling into his eyes, making you want nothing but to brush it away. Brilliant. And naturally, he noticed you as well, eyes looking over your frame and face, searching for something. You did wonder whether he found it. To distract yourself, your gaze slipped over to look at TP. Still suspicious and serious. But at least he was not staring at you, trying to see into your soul. And that was enough.

“Welcome aboard” his grim countenance lit up for a second.

After a motion from Ives, you stepped up along with him and Wheeler, joining the two men. You had a proper look around. The rows of containers, rigs, and equipment being stacked in crates, ready for the upcoming battle. Eyeing the accommodation part of the cargo ship, you listened on to the conversation:

“Where exactly are we heading?” Ives’s voice cut straight to the point.

Good question. You glanced back at TP, only to find an enigmatic smile grace his features.

“All in the right time,” he responded, and you could see Neil grimace.

Somehow seeing him that frustrated did not cause any satisfaction. Quite the contrary even. To your inner horror, his eyes met yours right then. Curiously considering, before he reached out a hand:

“It’s good to see you” that was undoubtedly directed at you.

The empty pleasantry hurt like a bitch. But, with four pairs of eyes set on you, there was no choice but to accept the outstretched hand. Swallowing down the panic, you let his hand envelope yours in the casual handshake. Even that amount of contact was enough to make you spiral. Especially with how his thumb brushed over your knuckles. The eyes never leaving yours, urging you to understand something. What you had no clue. The moment was over before you realised, and Neil directed the next sentiment at your companions.

“All of you” they exchanged the handshakes while you stared on.

Once that was done, TP directed your attention towards the accommodation again:

“We’ll show you what’s where” he started walking, giving the directions on the go, “Let everyone else disembark in the meantime”

At least he was more like himself.

You followed them, taking in all the shown spaces. The lower part was occupied by the turnstile and potential training spaces. As you passed, you could hear Ives making arrangements for the troops to start sparing and shooting practice as soon as possible. Next, there were bunk beds and sleeping spaces for everyone. Rows upon rows of small bunks, only privacy was a curtain separating the mattress from the outside world. But it had to do, of course. As you moved up past the machinery, the kitchen, and the common spaces, you have been led to an airlocked corridor near the bridge.

“That’s where we sleep” TP waved a hand in the general direction of the many doors in the corridor.

There was a total of four cabins and a bathroom. Your gaze settled on Neil again. Entirely on its own accord. He shifted hesitantly before directing a question at the squad leader:

“Ives, do you guys want to stay with the troops?”

You could see the emotions bubbling under the nonchalant expression. It was not the usual charming, suave Neil you have met. Now there was uncertainty, doubt, and insecurity. As though he suddenly lost all the confidence and was trying to piece himself together. You did wonder what made him hurt that much.

“Yeah, that’s better for the morals,” Ives replied, ending your strange thoughts.

“As you wish,” Neil grinned in response, before glancing at TP, “I’ll go check on Kat”

Before anyone could respond, he disappeared down the corridor. Interesting. Could it be that he too was bothered by what was going on? Difficult to imagine but plausible.

“Those are yours, Y/N” the mention of your name made you look up.

TP was staring at you inquisitively, a hand on a doorknob, awaiting a reaction. That was unexpected. As much as the fact that he used your name. And did not look that pissed off anymore. You did wonder what was said during their journey back to Oslo. How much did he know?

“I thought I’ll be with the rest of the squad” you stared back quizzically.

“Neil made sure you got your own space” TP shrugged as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

What the hell. Was that why he so casually run off?

“How very kind of him,” you muttered, feeling the gazes of everyone else burning on your skin.

Damn people and their curiosity.

“He’s down the corridor, if-” oh fuck no.

“Thanks,” you cut off the boss with the voice as cold as ice.

He understood, nodding curtly. Thank god. It was enough to know that Neil was close. You did not need the specifics. Or the insinuations behind the information. It did not matter; you would not be visiting him any time soon. Or ever.

*** You have managed to avoid meeting Neil throughout the day. It was busy, filled with getting settled aboard the icebreaker and planning what the next days are going to hold. You were not told what your destination was, but you had a clue Ives knew. That was… disappointing. You have happily missed the mealtime, choosing to hide in the 2 x 3 metres of space that was your cabin. The small bed, one round window, tiny bedside cabinet, and a chair were all you could depend on for the next eight days. Not bad. You were intent on staying there for as long as possible, avoiding the outside unless absolutely necessary. It was a good plan until, at around 1 am, your stomach started rumbling. Supposedly a whole day on just breakfast was bound to end like this. But you were still outraged. Because that meant going out. And here there be monsters. Sighing heavily, you put on the shoes and a jacket and warily stepped into the corridor. Silence. Cold metal walls and floors, deep dark shadows. With the official meeting taking place the next morning, you were hoping everyone was asleep. Or doing whatever people did at night.

Sealing the airlock in the small kitchen, you took off the oxygen mask and placed it on the small table. The galley was equipped with the necessary stuff, including a large, packed fridge, a kettle, sink, and some cabinets filled with non-perishable foods. The eerie silence was almost deafening, so you turned the kettle on, creating background noise. Going through the arsenal, you chose to prepare a sandwich and a tea and then promptly run away to your room. Just in case. As you set to work, confidence grew. Maybe you got lucky. You were in the middle of cutting the bread roll in half when the unmistakable sound of the zipper rung out. Fuck.

“… Hey,” of course.

Your hand slipped, knife slicing open the skin on your pointer finger. Blood dripping onto the counter.

“Shit!” you cursed and dropped the knife, bringing the injured finger to your mouth.

As the coppery taste dissolved on your tongue, you risked turning around to face the intruder. That was mistake number one. Neil was staring at you with concern etched onto his face. Lips pursed; brows furrowed. Hair ruffled as though he has been outside for an extended period of time. The moment your eyes met his, you felt trapped. There was nowhere to go. Just you and him, in 7 square metres. Bloody perfect. His gaze flitted between you and your wounded hand, hesitating and calculating. It was obvious, even to him.

“Are you alright?” the strange unfamiliarity took you by surprise.

You could see the conflict plain as day. Glancing at the cut, you were relieved to see that it was rather shallow, albeit still bleeding significantly. Turning on the tap to rinse it, you replied:

“Yep,” that simple.

And yet not at all. Neil edged closer, stopping right next to you but preserving a meter of space. Turning off the water, you looked up at him curiously. Too close. The blue threatened to drown you if you were not careful. He reached out a hand with fingers trembling slightly. You were frozen in the spot, seeing but unable to react, as he took another step forward.

“Show me-” the moment his skin made contact with yours, the paralysis disappeared.

God no. You jumped back, hitting the edge of the counter with your back. A dull throbbing was nothing compared to the hammering heart and the searing pain in your chest. His eyes widened in shock. Your reaction was evidently unexpected.

“No, that won’t be necessary” finding the voice again, you mustered a tight-lipped smile.

If this were to work, you had to avoid any physical contact. Somehow you knew that if he touched you, the resolve would begin to crumble. That could not happen. You took a deep breath and focused back on the task. The tension was of the knife-cutting kind. Swallowing you both in despair. In the corner of your eye, you could see Neil hesitate, watching you closely. Then he must have made up his mind, for he opened the fridge and started searching for something. After another minute of near-fatal awkwardness, you spoke up:

“Have you been outside?” a simple question dropped in an almost neutral tone.

Fitting perfectly between strokes of the butter knife on the roll. Small talk, easy enough, right?

“Yeah, I’ve watched the stars” Neil took out bread and settled by you at the counter “The sky’s pretty clear tonight” he glanced at you for a second, an enigmatic look on his face.

The walls were up. Back to pretending.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, praying to every god in the universe for help.

Thankfully, one must have listened… Well, sort of.  

“You’ve missed the meal earlier,” he noticed while turning on the toaster.

Of course, he would. Forcing your hands to stay steady as you sliced up the tomato, you thought of a good enough answer. Because the truth would not do.

“Just didn’t feel like it” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

But he was staring. Leaning by the counter, watching you closely. You felt that this was it when it came to a casual conversation between you.

“But now you do?” this next question sounded differently.

There was a suspicious edge to his voice that you knew would be reflected in his eyes. Your acting was not good enough for this. Swallowing down the rising discomfort, you faced him and steeled your features.

“Yes,” that should suffice.

But then, seeing him attempt psychoanalysis through the means of staring, you chose honesty.

“I was hoping I won’t meet anyone around here this late,” you added and met his gaze.

A challenge. Tell me how I’m wrong, kind of thing. The truth he so clearly wanted. And Neil took it without hesitation.

“Anyone? Or just me?” eyes narrowed; lips curled into a smirk you did not like.

What the fuck? You felt a rush of anger. He maybe was right. But that did not mean he was allowed to question you. To make claims as clear as this.

“What’s your point?” you arched an eyebrow, forcing the most neutral of tones.

A shadow passed through his face, a hint of uncertainty. But as soon as you noticed it, it was gone. He shook his head with an almost imperceptible smile.

“No matter” waving his hand dismissively, he reached for the kettle.

Too close again. His arm brushed against yours as he filled in both of your mugs with the boiling water. You glared at that but chose to bite back the comment. At least he was being useful…

“You were rather quiet earlier...” Neil’s voice brought you back to the present moment.

Your head snapped up, meeting his intense stare. What? From the curiosity in his eyes, you deduced that he was waiting for an answer to that. You were sure to deliver.

“If you wanted me to publicly declare my hatred for you, then I’m sorry to disappoint,” shrugging, you took satisfaction in the way his eyes widened “Are you using that?” pointing at the container with sugar, you observed him a little longer.

Neil seemed less confident now. His tense posture and clenched jaw showed as much. Or the fact that suddenly he was not as eager to stare at you. Maybe that was a win. The only response you got was a head nod for ‘no’. But before you could celebrate the unlikely victory, he spoke again:

“Last time we talked, you said something a little different” there was that suspicious edge again.

You did not dare meet his eyes. The casual way in which he referred to the event made your blood boil. Because that was all the evidence you needed to confirm the worst-case assumptions: he did not care. To Neil, all this was a passing thing, something you can let go of when it becomes inconvenient. Trust you to give your heart to someone like that. The thought gave you an idea. What was said could not be unsaid, but…

“Yeah, but I thought about it, and... I take it back” once the words left your mouth, you felt a stronger surge of fury.

It only got worse when you caught a glimpse of hurt in the depths of his eyes. It was hidden well but still there.

“What?” Neil swallowed hard.

You could see that he did not expect that from you. Good. Perhaps it was a lie, but who was to say you had to be honest. After all, he was not, as it turned out. The look of confusion on his face made you turn up the emotions, throwing in irritability to the mix.

“I know you can be dense, but I’m sure you understood it well enough. I take back what I said in Tallinn” no effort was needed to be mean.

Just as easy as it was to lie. Perhaps too easy even. Out of curiosity, you watched him absorb what you said. At first, Neil’s lips parted a little as though he was holding in a gasp. Then he tensed, and eyebrows furrowed. That was denial. It was replaced with a painfully fake smile. One that did not reach his eyes. In summary, Neil did not seem relieved by what you said. Nor did he seem happy about it. Tough luck.

“Feelings change, huh?” nonchalantly he eyed you as though trying to find anything amiss.

The intensity of his gaze felt as though the fire was burning your skin. Suddenly the casual outfit seemed inadequate. Almost nonexistent in how he could see right through it. It took you a moment to shook it off. To remember that this was a duel, and you could still win. But only if you did not allow him to get too close.

“No. People do” you shrugged and went back to finishing the tea.

Just like that. A silence. And then the sound of a throat being cleared awkwardly:

“What are you trying to say?” unsure and shocked.

The metaphorical penny dropped. You could spare him the torture.

“You know,” putting away the teaspoon with a clink you eyed the toaster, “You might want to take that toast out unless you fancy eating carbon”

“Thanks,” Neil offered you a tight-lipped smile before he attended the burned toast.

You felt like that was the perfect metaphor for the state of your relationship. Or whatever the fuck was it. You were not sure what made you stay then. The walk back to your room did not seem convenient anymore. And the table was right there… It was rather risky, but then it was hard to deny yourself the pleasure. However questionable it may be. He was still your Neil, and his presence felt like the home you have desperately missed. Fortune favours the brave, or whatever. Ignoring his surprised look, you set down the plate and the mug and sat down at the narrow table. You did not have to wait long for a question:

“Do you mind if I stay?” the uncertainty in his voice made you look up.

Sure enough, the blue eyes were fixed on you with reluctance. As though he did not expect you to allow him that much. But then… why not? Perhaps it was the masochistic tendencies speaking.

“Suit yourself” you offered him the tiniest of smiles and focused on finally eating the carefully prepared sandwiches.

The ones you paid in blood and nerves for. At least they were good. After another moment, Neil joined, taking his seat opposite you. You could not help but snicker at the blackened toasts gracing his plate.

For a few minutes, you ate in silence, stealing glances at each other as though they were a crime. For you, they almost felt like it. His blonde hair (fake, as you had to remind yourself) reflected the fluorescents, giving him that angelic look that used to draw you in. It still did as much, only now it was paired with desperation everybody feels when faced with the unattainable. The forbidden fruit. Unable to stop yourself, you glanced at his lips then. The pull was still there, threatening to come crashing down and leave you gasping for air. But you could not give in.

“You saw us” as though Neil could read your mind, he spoke up, “Back at the airport, with Kat,” adding, he met your gaze.

You could tell that this was another attempt at small talk of sorts. You wondered how long this would take until another argument could begin to brew.

“Yeah,” nodding, you took a sip of the tea.

That was all he needed. The moment still sometimes haunted you. The look in his eyes when Neil saw you in Oslo. Now it all made more sense. The shock and apprehension. You were probably the last person he wanted to see back then. 

“Why you’ve never said anything?” the question took you by surprise.

Neil, of all people, should know better. You took a moment to gather the thoughts, staring back into those eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“I just followed your favourite logic” upon his confused expression, you explained, “What’s happened-”

“-Happened” he grinned; too proud “You know me well”

His hand that was resting by the mug twitched as though he wanted to reach out. You could not tear your eyes away from it, battling the most primal of instincts that just wanted to touch him. Ignoring the urge, you finished the tea and muttered the answer:

“I thought I do”

It was another of those things that were too easy to tell him. Even though you were being vulnerable through admitting it. Most rules were broken already.

“But?”

You stood up, avoiding the desire to look him in the eye. Anything to make this easier. Enough. You got what you wanted, but now it was time to leave. To cut this torture short for you both.

“If Tallinn taught me anything is that I don’t know you at all. Not the real you, anyway” you rinsed the dishes and moved to the door “Now, excuse me-”

Neil moved fast. Before you could realise he stood up, his hand was wrapped around your arm, making escape impossible. Bewildered by the feelings rushing in all at once, you met his eyes. Even through the two layers of clothing, his touch was burning you. A reminder of all that you have lost. The immeasurable depth of expression in Neil’s face was not helping. You could discern determination, worry, and panic, among others. As though only now he has realised the extent of the damage.

“I never lied to you. Not even once” his grip tightened as he took a step forward.

Your back hit the wall, trapping you between him and the cold metal.

“Should I congratulate you?” stifling the raising panic, you stared up at him with defiance.

It worked.

“…Jesus,” Neil swallowed hard, unable to hide the exasperation, “Why are you like this?”

With the newly found position, you could easily judge his state of mind. He was annoyed, angry even. And that was triggering. Even though the proximity was slowly hazing your mind, proposing scenarios that could never happen. Fuck. You took a deep breath to calm down. To ignore how it felt to have someone look at you like this. Not platonically.

“If you need to ask, I think there’s no point in dragging this conversation any longer” finding your voice again you made sure to turn up the notch “I’d rather go to sleep than get rejected again” the coldness came out of nowhere.

But it was helpful. He did not expect that. The hand on your arm relaxed a little.

“I never rejected you” crease between his eyebrows deepened.

Right. Unable to stop the rising bitterness, you scoffed in his face. This was the opportunity to win the battle and get away before you could fuck it up even worse.

“You’re right,” you relished in the utter confusion visible “You did something worse. But I’m really not in the mood to argue, so… please let me go” gingerly, you placed your hand on his chest with the intent to push him away.

That was another mistake. Neil covered your palm with his, making you shudder. That was enough to make everything worse. Because there was no way of stopping the thoughts. Of ignoring the want, you tried to suppress for the past week. With him this close, touching you as though he meant it, you soon realised how bad it was. There was no way of getting rid of the feelings.

“I’m worried about you. You don’t look well” he broke the tense silence, forcing you to look up.

As if. His face was too striking. With blood pounding in your ears, you made another attempt at freeing yourself by trying to push him away.

“I don’t need your sympathy” taking a step forwards you hoped he would back off.

He did not. The concern visible in his blue eyes was overwhelming any last bit of sanity. All that was left did not make any sense. For a second, you wanted nothing but to have an innocent passerby interrupt you. The embarrassment could be worth it.

“I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept in days. And I-”

Neil was too close. The hand that was wrapped around your arm slid down to your waist while the other wandered up, fingers ghosting your neck. You closed your eyes for a split second, calming down the racing thoughts. This could not happen.

“Neil, stop,” shaking off the paralysis, you cupped his cheek “You can’t help me. So, let’s just leave it,” pouring in all the despair into your gaze, you met his eyes.

What you saw reflected was startling. You have never seen him that confused.

“I…” he faltered, losing the momentum that was there a second ago.

You were winning. But there was no satisfaction. Just the overwhelming despair, tempting you to make use of the predicament. Just this once. It was too easy to let your fingers caress his jaw, feeling the two-day stubble he did not bother shaving off. The disorientation in his eyes deepened as he stared at you with amazement. Speechless, frozen in the moment that seemed endless. As you brushed the pad of your thumb over his lips, Neil inhaled sharply, waking up from the reverie. His grip on your waist tightened, drawing you even closer. The expression in his eyes shifted. Pupils darkened as want took over the reason. You could feel yourself slipping down the slippery slope. Risking too much for god knows what. Or why. The air he breathed out ghosted your lips, an offer of what you could have. The exact same thing you have missed more than anything else. As if guided by the gravity itself, you leaned in, your noses brushing. Mere two inches of space. It would be so easy…

“If you don’t love me, then what is this?” Neil asked, breaking the silence and putting on another enigmatic smile.

The audacity of the question felt like a punch in the gut. That was the harsh wake-up call. Your salvation.

“Whatever it was for you in Tallinn,” you bit back, letting the anger seep into your answer “Let me go” the ice-cold tone was a perfect touch.

Neil took one last long look over your face before he stepped back, releasing you. The visible disappointment made you even angrier. Because how did he dare? What even was this? You had no clue. Only that you were right about touches being forbidden from now on.

“As you wish,” the pleasantry was thrown in your face with a mocking intonation.

You wanted nothing but to slap him. Punch him, make him bleed and hurt like you were. But that would be unbecoming for someone like you. And so, you straightened your back, grabbed the mask, and fixed it over your mouth and nose without as much as a glance in his direction. Enough now.

“See you at the meeting tomorrow” throwing the goodbye over your shoulder you unzipped the airlock.

“Good night” was the last thing you heard upon the exit from the galley.

Jesus Christ. Finally, there was air to breathe.

*** That night you did not get much sleep either, tossing and turning on the narrow bed, unable to make your brain shut up. It was hard not to come up with all the possible what-ifs. Not to wonder what could have happened should Neil stayed silent, and you were to continue. To let yourself get lost in him like you used to. And all of those questions were only amplified by the fact that you chose to sleep in the stolen sweater. Why? You had no clue. Like many things, even your brain stopped making sense a long time ago. And so, when your phone alarm finally rang, you could only accept the fate and grudgingly get up. The dark circles were hard to hide. Or the way your shoulders sagged at the mere idea of facing everyone else. But there was no other way. You got dressed in the most practical outfit and left the cabin with the heart hammering in your chest. All the courage accepted. The mere idea of facing Neil made your stomach turn. That vouched for an amazing start indeed.

The official meeting was supposed to take place at 9:00 on the indoor bridge, and as far you knew the purpose was to officially brief you and the squad. You followed the half-remembered directions, by miracle arriving at the airlock leading to a lounge-like space with sofas, a table with ten chairs, and panoramic windows proving splendid view of the inverted waves and occasional seagulls. It seemed like you were the first one to arrive. Taking a longer look to stare at the horizon, you jumped up at the sound of a throat being cleared. Not alone then…

“Good morning” tall blonde woman stood up from her position on the sofa.

Kat. The drama of the previous night almost made you forget about her. But there is only so long you can run away from reality. The anxiety spike made you take a deep breath before you could respond.

“Hi,” frowning at the awkwardness of the tone, you flashed her an apologetic smile “Sorry to interrupt if you’ve-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she waved a hand dismissively and settled back on the cushions “I’ve just been watching the birds really. Still can’t get used to them” the thoughtful look in her eyes made you smile.

She could not be older than Neil. Tall and slender, dressed in practical military clothes as everyone else, she seemed so different from the woman you saw in Tallinn, bleeding and on the verge of death. Now there was steely confidence to her, intangible yet present. Tentatively, you joined her on the sofa, never taking your eyes off the horizon.

“It takes a while. The first time I got inverted, I panicked the moment I saw a pigeon flying backwards” you did not know where the honesty came from.

Or why you shared the story. But the bewildered smile that split Kat’s face was a good enough reward.

“That sounds horrendous” she choked back a laugh, meeting your gaze with sparkling blue eyes.

“It was cooing too” you added with the conspiratorial whisper, awaiting a response, barely concealing a giggle that was rising in your throat.

“Good God” she grinned in your direction.

Maybe there was some goodness in the universe…

“Yeah, basically” returning the smile, you reached out a hand “Sorry we’ve never got introduced, I’m Y/N”

“Kat” she shook your palm, smiling sympathetically “It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of the squad?”

“Well, sort of… I don’t really know what’s my role is in all this” shrugging helplessly, you allowed more honesty to permeate the sentence “But I’m too involved to ask questions”

“I know the feeling well” you knew the quiet resignation in her gaze from the reflection in the mirror.

As you opened your mouth to ask a question, a zip on the airlock made you freeze. Peace was not an available commodity these days.

“Good morning ladies” Neil’s voice rung out in the room as he stepped into the view.

The fake cheeriness looked out of place on his sombre face. After a quick scan, you could tell that he too has not slept well. And that he was trying his hardest to appear alright when he was everything but. A tell-tale sign was the untied shoelace and uncombed hair sticking out in every direction. Details easily missed by everyone but you. There was nothing you could do with that information. It felt like another tiny but painful stab straight into your battered heart. You did wonder how many more could you handle.

“Did you get a good rest?” Kat’s innocent question brought you back to the moment.

“Not quite” Neil grimaced slightly as his eyes slipped over onto you for a fraction of a second.

That was enough to make Kat notice. You were sure of it. Your cheeks reddened on their own accord, and you returned Neil’s tight-lipped smile. A finishing touch to the act.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening. Neil sat by the table, tapping his foot unconsciously. Kat seemed perplexed, glancing at you both, trying to understand. You would not even know how to explain it if she asked. Suddenly, a text alert pierced the silence, making you jump up. The device buzzed in the pocket of your pullover. With a shaking hand, you retrieved the phone and glanced at the display. TP.

“Fuck” you let out a curse as your eyes flitted over the text.

Passwords. To what? Hell knows.

“What is it?” Neil stood up and was at your side in a second.

You looked up, straight into his eyes. Whatever happened did not matter now. You both understood that.

“I don’t know…” biting down on your lip, you scanned the room, settling on a computer lying on the table, “Give me that laptop. Please” you gestured towards the device, urging him to catch up.

He did. Using those long legs that you always admired, he crossed the room in no time and handed you the laptop. Your hands were trembling as you typed in the passcodes and entered the folder where files from TP always appeared. It certainly did not help that Neil has perched on the armrest of the sofa and was looking over your shoulder. Or that his hand landed on the nape of your neck as he adjusted in the strange position. You swallowed hard, focused on finding the newest folder. Surely enough it was there. Password protected. You typed in the combination of letters and numbers from the text message and held your breath as the system loaded. A second later, you were staring at several files that appeared on the screen. Double-clicking on the first pdf, you opened up a map of a location.

“Is that…” Neil’s whisper came from right over your ear.

Breath ghosting over your neck, making you shiver. But there were more important matters to attend to. Shaking off the feeling, your eyes scanned the map.

“Stalsk-12” you read out loud, “I think this is our destination. TP sent those so we know what to expect” looking at Neil again, you were struck by the proximity.

He nodded, holding your gaze intently. You could see that he was processing what you said and all the implications. What the unexpected files could mean for you. And what were the critical steps to be taken.

“What do you mean he sent those? He’s-” Kat’s confused question made you both snap out of it.

It was terrifyingly easy to forget people other than Neil existed. Another issue to add to your list.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t explain it” you gave Kat the most regretful of smiles and opened a different file.

This one was a list of tips in a way. A short letter with instructions, addressed to you alone. Aware of the tension pervading the room, you scanned it, catching onto the things he mentioned. A tunnel leading to the dead-drop. Hypocenter in the middle of the Soviet secret city. Inverted and normal mercenaries. It sounded like something taken out of an action film. But, supposedly, that was your reality now.

“Anything good?” Neil chimed in, unable to control the anticipation.

You glanced at him again, catching the way he was staring at you rather than at the screen. The way the early morning sun reflected off his profile was tragic. The hair shone like rays of sunlight. The long eyelashes framed his eyes, making the blue stand out even more. Fucking masterpiece. He met your gaze warily, and his brows furrowed even more. That was the cue to answer his question. And to stop staring.

“He’s saying that the most crucial bit will be the lock leading to the dead-drop,” you explained, highlighting the line in the doc “And is sending you his regards,” adding, you gave Neil a small smile.

They were there alright. A final line, telling you to make sure he stays sane and alive. Worrying remark, but you were afraid the boss miscalculated your influence upon the blonde bastard. Maybe he was wrong about some things? Just as the man in question opened his mouth again, someone else entered the bridge, accompanied by the sound of heavy boots and puffs of air from the oxygen masks.

“Who’s saying what?” TP’s question made you frown as the man himself stepped into the room.

Of course, he’d hear that. Now came the dilemma you never knew you would have to face – how to tell your boss you have received information from his future, dead self? And how to make him believe you?

“We’ve got intel. About where we’re heading,” you were saved from answering the question by Neil, who stood up and faced the boss “It’s Siberia, isn’t it?”

Judging by the palpable shock and irritation on TP’s face, it was, in fact, Siberia.

“Who told you that?” the offensive edge to his voice felt like a flashback to Tallinn and the turnstile.

You would rather avoid a repetition of that. Standing up, you took a deep breath. Before anyone else could break-in, you spoke up:

“A very reliable source” when TP’s gaze settled on you, you shrugged.

Quiet confidence, right? A passing shadow of suspicion was not the most encouraging of signs.

“Reliable to who?” his gaze flitted between you and Neil.

Only now you realised how close you were standing to him. Your elbows brushed as you tried to think of an answer. Anything to win the case.

“All of us” Neil’s simple response made you look up at him.

His gaze was fixed on TP with adamant resolve. You felt like this was not the same man who had let his friend pin him to the wall and interrogate him in the most brutal of fashions. The boss sighed and looked at you again.

“How did you get it?”

Right…

“… password protected files” the half-truth felt like the worst of lies.

“From whom?” he pressed, all of the intensity of the dark stare on you.

You could only offer him another shrug and a remorseful look on your face. The scowl you got in response was concerning. But you could not give in.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the best piece of information we could get. We’ve got terrain plans and intel about the dead-drop. Maybe with this, we can make it work” taking a step forwards, you hoped he can see the desperation in your eyes, “All you have to do is trust me” the addition felt necessary, even if hard to be spoken out loud.

The frown on TP’s face deepened as he sighed heavily.

“Bloody hell…” he glanced at the blonde man again, “Neil, what are you thinking?”

Only now you could feel how fast your heart has been beating. Or that sometime within the last few minutes, you have started to tremble.

“I trust her. With my life” Neil delivered the admission with the most neutral of tones.

Fuck. The heartbeat stumbled and then kicked back into action at twice the speed. Unable to stop yourself, you turned around to face him. Sure enough, he met your gaze with certainty. As though that was obvious. Well, maybe to him…

“And the fate of the world too,” he added after a beat, clearly highlighting what mattered more.

Another thing that did not make sense. You made sure he could see the confusion in your eyes as you gave him a formal nod. It was a public setting after all, and you need not make a scene in front of Kat and TP.  But at least you had support in your fight, and that was perhaps most important right now.

“This intel is all we’ve got. We might as well make use of it,” Neil summarized, taking that step closer to you again.

You both faced the boss, taking concerning amounts of confidence from simply being able to do it together. You could see the internal battle on TP’s face. Worry, uncertainty, suspicion, conflict, trust…? Finally, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he looked at you again, you could tell that it was done. Only…

“If it backfires…” the unspoken hint of consequences if something went terribly wrong.

You just had to make sure it would not. Easy enough…right?

“If it does, then we’ll worry. For now, let’s get to work” Neil waved his hand dismissively, a rare genuine smile brightening up his face “The stage is yours,” tentatively, he placed his hand on your back, giving you a light push.

Permission to take over. Support and the inability to keep his hands off you. Enough to make you consider jumping off the afterdeck into the freezing depths of the Barents Sea. Because even that was better than approximately a week more of this. But the seals would have to wait. The blue eyes were fixed on you with a glimmer that seemed too affectionate for the state of the affairs. Let’s wipe it off with the best weapon available – the crushing weight of reality. You took a deep breath and began the explanation.

[oboevallis]

who is he pt 4

BESTIES!!!!! it’s been tooooooo long ive just had no motivation 🤪 but today we had parade rehearsal and they didn't really need me so i had time to write this, sorry its been so long!!! i hope everyones doing well and staying safe

part 1 part 2 part 3

“Is link your boyfriend?” Scout asked as his mother cut his waffles.

“No, he isn’t. We’re just friends.”

“Why do we spend so much time with him?” In the following weeks of the zoo excursion, the trio had done countless things with one another.

“Just cause.” Amelia quickly said, starting to get nervous, hoping her son wouldn't ask to elaborate.

“Okay.” Scout shrugged, dropping the subject. Eliciting a sigh of relief from his mother. “Is he coming to my softball game tonight?”

“Yeah, I think he is.”

“Oh.”

“Do you not want him to?”

“Well, he works for baseball players, and they’re all really good; what if he thinks I’m a bad player?”

“Oh babe, he won’t think that at all. I’m sure he’ll be very impressed.” It took a lot of begging for Amelia to allow Scout to play softball, but the more she watched her son played, the prouder she was of him. He was a good player for a kid his age.

_______________________________________

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Link asked as he opened his apartment door.

“I came to visit you since you never come to see us.” His mother brought him into a hug as she walked further in.

“A little notice would’ve been nice.” The man sighed, picking up the mini cooler that was on the counter and his sunglasses.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Maureen realized her son was getting prepared to leave. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah, I am.”

“There’s no baseball game today, though.” Maureen had checked before she came to assure her son would have time to spend with her.

“Yeah, I’m just going out; I’ll be back in maybe two hours? Just entertain yourself, and the guest room should be clean if you want to stay in there.” Link pointed across the hall.

“Okay, thanks.” Maureen sadly smiled, slightly offended at her sons' offish behavior.

________________________________________

“You look like your gonna throw up.” Link chuckled as he sat down next to Amelia handing her a water from the cooler.

“I’m just terrified he’s gonna hit his head in just the wrong space and immediately die.” Amelia quickly ranted as she watched her son step up to the base; this was her usual freak-out routine when her son would be playing.

“He’s gonna be just fine, Mia.” Amelia quickly diverted her attention to the man; he hadn’t used the nickname in 5 years. “Sorry I-“

“Shh.” Amelia shushed him as their son hit the ball and start bolting for the next base, standing up when he fell face-first as he tried to reach the base. “Crap.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He grabbed her arm, seating her, when he got up and kept running. “He’s okay.”

“Okay.” Amelia shifted awkwardly, putting her hand on her chest to try and control her breathing. “I hate this.”

“Look at how happy he is, though.” Link loved his son, even if the boy didn’t know he was his father. But that fact broke his heart; to the little boy, he was just a friend.

“He’s getting suspicious.”

“Hmm?” Link hummed, shoving some peanuts in his mouth.

“He asked if we were dating; I said no, obviously.” For some reason, this stung the man. “But he’s smart; he’s gonna realize eventually, so maybe we should talk about telling him.”

“And you're okay with this?” Link asked hopefully.

“He’s gonna find out eventually.” Amelia sighed, picking at her nail. “I mean, I don’t really have a choice; I’ve already messed up too much. Depriving both of you of a relationship from each other.”

“I don’t blame you, not anymore.” Link whispered. “You were protecting him, and yourself. I mean, I’m upset I missed so much, but I get it.” Amelia looked at the man and genuinely smiled.

“Thank you.” The woman whispered with tears in her eyes.

_______________________________________

“Mom, did you see that?” Scout cheered as he ran into his mother’s arms. “I made a home run!”

“I know, I’m so so so proud of you.” Amelia laughed as she spun the boy around.

“You did really great, bud.” Link smiled, patting the boy's back.

“Thanks, Link.” Scout smiled brightly.

“I’ll have to take you to a Mariners game sometime.” Link smiled, thinking about bringing his son to a game and introducing him to the players. “If it’s okay with your mom, of course.”

“We can work something out.” Amelia reluctantly smiled.

“Can we get donuts?” Scout asked, jumping on the balls of his feet.

“Sure.” Amelia laughed at her sons' excitement over donuts, reminding her of how her ex-boyfriend used to act.

“Can Link come?” Scout asked.

“If he wants to.” Amelia smiled at the man, who eagerly nodded.

“I’d love to; donuts are my absolute favorite.” Link smiled, knowing that his son loved his favorite snack as much as he did. “You know they have a Gotham Donuts in Seattle now?”

“I didn’t,” Amelia said, taken aback, thinking back to the New York fiasco, and how she was falling in love with the man.

“Let’s go!!!!” Scout said, starting to get impatient, pulling his mother’s arm.

“Alright, alright.”

________________________________________

“They don’t taste exactly like the ones in New York, but they’re still my favorite.” Link said after he shoved a whole donut in his mouth.

“Everything pastry wise is better in New York. Especially, bagels,” Amelia remarked.

“Yeah, my mom won’t let us ever get bagels. Only when we’re in New York.” Scout laughed, making Link smile. The man recalled one morning when he brought home breakfast bagels for the two, and she refused to eat them.

“She’s very dramatic, huh?” Link smirked, making eye contact with the woman.

“Hey! Am not!” Amelia playfully defended.

“You are, though, mommy.” Scout agreed with the man.

“Alright, I guess just a little bit.” Amelia caved, running the boy's hair through his fingers, noticing the boy's eyes start to droop the longer they sat. “You getting tired, bud?”

“Mmmhmm.” The boy nodded, snuggling into his mother’s side.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” Amelia helped scout out of the booth. “Thanks so much, Link.”

“Yeah, of course.” He’d been trying to keep his tears at bay as he watched the interaction between the two. “Great job today!”

“Thanks.” Scout waved as the two walked off.

________________________________________

When Link arrived back at his apartment, he found dinner in the microwave, and his mother fast asleep in the spare bedroom. The bedroom that should be Scout’s. He remembered the night the couple crashed at his apartment, and he took her into the room, and they mapped out how the nursery would be set up. The orthopedic surgeon shook the thought of his head and went into his room, quickly finding his bed and falling asleep.

“Link.” His mother’s soft voice jutting him out of sleep.

“What?” Link asked, somewhat shocked to of been woken up, almost forgetting his mother was even there.

“You left your phone in the kitchen, and someone called Meredith keeps calling.” Maureen raised her eyebrow, trying to determine if this was a possible love interest.

Link took the ringing phone from his mother while trying to contain his eye roll. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out.” Meredith’s shaky voice rang in his ears.

“What? What happened?” Link sat up abruptly in his bed, his mother perking up at her sons' nervousness.

“There was a car crash.” Before she could continue, he jumped up from his bed and started to get dressed, trying to calm his shakiness. “Scout is fine. Maggie is with him, and he just has a tiny laceration on his forehead, which is being patched up as we speak?”

“And Amelia?” The man's heart dropped at the hesitation, suddenly regretting everything that had not happened between the two, especially not fighting to be in her and her sons' life.

“She was unconscious when they brought her in; Koracick is bringing her up to CT. He’s the best.” Link could sense the woman’s pain with saying that; he knew she’d prefer her late husband. The one who Amelia would talk so fondly of, and aspire to be.

“And the other person?” The man asked, heading to the door, his mom following him and confiscated his keys. He was about to yell at her until he realized how shaky his hands were; it was probably too dangerous to drive himself.

“Tox screen came back; he was definitely intoxicated. He should be fine, though.” Before he knew what he was doing, he abruptly hung up, regretting that he even asked. Once the pair got to the parking lot, everything seemed to be in slow motion. He remembered his mom asking for directions, and standing outside of the hospital, unable to find the strength to walk in.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Another One?!, Part 6

First > Previous > Epilogue

Adrien tensed when he walked into the living room and saw Cass struggling to wipe a red stain (fruit punch, maybe?) off the couch.

“Uh…?”

She looked up and her face paled a little bit. She did a quick sign for help, which was just the letter H in sign language for them, and he hesitated. He wanted to, he really did, but if Marinette caught him being an accomplice…

He turned on his heel and walked back the way he came.

Big mistake.

A few hours later, Marinette walked down and cursed.

“Sweeties! And Chaton!”

Everyone scrambled to the living room and found her standing by the couch, her arms crossed over her chest as she regarded each of them with a barely concealed glare.

“Whatever happened, it wasn’t me,” said Jason. Everyone nodded that they, too, were not at fault.

She clicked her tongue and uncrossed her arms to sign along with her words. “Well, it was one of you! So, if no one wants to fess up then everyone has to help clean.”

“What? That’s not fair!” Complained Dick. “If we didn’t do it then we shouldn’t have to help!”

“Then maybe the person should fess up. It’s not like I can just figure out who’s lyi -- wait, I absolutely can. Cass!”

Cass slowly shifted out of the group and then walked over to his wife. She fixed her gaze on each of the guys in turn and then signed the letter ‘A’.

Everyone looked at Adrien, who was rapidly paling. Ah. Not good.

“Wait wait wait! It wasn’t me! It was Cass, I saw her cleaning it up!”

Cass sniffled and started wiping her eyes.

Marinette clicked her tongue again. “Wow, Chaton, I can’t believe you’d not only lie about it but also pin it on Cass. I’m disappointed in you,” she said. She leaned down and picked up Cass like she weighed nothing and hugged her as she took her from the room.

Marinette didn’t see the nasty grin Cass sent him over her shoulder.

But Adrien and the boys did.

Tim waited until Marinette was out of the room to laugh, and Jason and Dick both joined him almost instantly.

“You know, I’d feel bad but you probably deserve it,” said Dick.

Adrien sighed and shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Please, Cass hardly ever does anything mean. You messed up,” said Jason through peals of laughter.

“Shut up,” said Adrien bitterly as he made his way to the closet for cleaning supplies.

~

Marinette grinned as she made her way along the power line as quickly as she could without making a misstep.

Jason was doing his hardest to get her to fall. Because he’s a good son like that.

“Mom! Look! A person’s getting robbed!”

She flipped him off without looking up and then came to a stop when her phone buzzed.

Weird. She hadn’t thought anyone else was out on patrols…

She pulled out her phone and saw Jason doing the same out of the corner of her eyes.

ChatoNoir: I’ve found another kid. Can we adopt him? He looks so sad...

“Fuck!” Said Jason.

Marinette snickered.

Buginette: ok

HelmetRights: Fuck, I’ve lost the only other person who was on my side

Oracle: Youre not mad?

Buginette: ive come to accept random adoptions as a part of life so its ok as long as he tells me before he does it

ChatoNoir: Yay!

ChatoNoir: Right, I’m opening up a room for him. Be on the lookout for hellportals or whatever. Get a buddy, everyone, in case it tries to take you this time.

She glanced at Jason and they both shrugged before jumping to the street and hooking their arms through each other’s.

HelmetRights: We’re good over here

ChatoNoir: And everyone’s good here. Right. I’ll do it now.

There was a beat where nothing happened…

And then a bright white light stretched beside them.

Marinette blinked. She shared a look with Jason. It hadn’t been trying to take one of them? That wasn’t normal --.

“ROBIN ON YOUR LEFT!” Yelled a deep voice from the other side, pulling both of their attentions back to the portal.

She squinted to see through the portal and a strangled yelp escaped her throat when a blur of yellow, green, and red flew towards them.

There was a flash of color and Marinette was bowled over.

She groaned and stumbled to catch her footing, pushing the weird item away from her, only for her hand to touch something that was definitely soft enough to be skin. She was so startled by this revelation that she actually fell.

Her head hit the pavement and she murmured a curse, only to curse louder when an elbow slammed into her stomach.

She felt the person roll off of her and blinked the lights from her eyes to look at them.

It was a child, she was pretty sure. After all, no one over the age of ten would willingly wear that combination of colors.

Holy shit, wait a minute, the child had a sword.

That got her moving, scrambling on the floor to get away from a very distressed kid with a fucking SWORD WHAT THE FUCK --.

“Holy shit holy shit holy shit --,” Jason practically chanted as he, too, apparently realized the very unfortunate fact that this kid had a weapon out and they definitely didn’t. There was a flash of light as he created a shield around himself and his mother.

Good timing, the kid had started to swing it in their direction. It collided with the forcefield and the kid was thrown back a few steps. This only seemed to anger him, though, because the kid started hacking at the forcefield.

Jason and Marinette exchanged confused looks for the second time that night, but came to the silent agreement that they could just wait until the kid tired out.

Marinette plopped down in the bubble and held out a hand. Jason whined a little but reached into one of the many hidden pockets of his outfit and pulled out a snack at random.

Then he sat down next to her with one of his own and they nibbled at their food as the kid attempted to slash at them.

But, eventually, the person came to the realization that this really wasn’t working at all and they dropped down to sit as well.

Marinette pulled her yoyo off of her belt and started toying with it idly. Jason cocked his gun.

They dropped the forcefield.

The kid eyed them warily and they shared the sentiment…

But Marinette ended up just yawning and asking “Who’re your parents?”

This made the kid frown. “You don’t know who I am?”

She glanced at Jason, who shrugged, and then looked back at the kid. “Are we supposed to?”

“… I’m Robin.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “We heard. Nice name, by the way, were you named after the vigilante?”

“I bet he was. Kwami, he’s never going to let us live this down.”

“We don’t have to tell him,” said Jason.

“True --.”

The stranger clicked his tongue to pulled their attention back to him. “Wait, I’m the vigilante Robin. So you do know who I am, you’ve just… never seen me or the outfit?”

Marinette understood, now, she thought. “Oh. You’re from another dimension.”

Then her and Jason paled a little bit. Oh kwami. He was from another dimension. They’d thought the portals were just portals to different places like Tim’s, but this was a way bigger problem. They didn’t really have a reliable way to take this kid back home that they knew of, there was no proof that it opened up to the same reality every time.

“Find me Batman, then, or Nightwing. Nightwing is a constant in every reality I’ve heard of.”

Jason and Marinette exchanged confused looks.

“Batman? Is he one of ours? He’s got the lack of creativity that you and dad have,” said Jason.

Marinette shrugged. “Maybe he’s the kid Chaton just adopted?”

Alternate-Robin looked confused and angry. “No! Batman! And Nightwing!”

“Yeah, kid, we heard you,” said Jason with a strained smile. “We’re trying to figure out who that is. Do you want to call the Justice League and see if he’s a new member?”

Marinette swallowed back bile. “Do I want… no?”

“Mom --.”

“Fine, fine.” She pulled out her phone and, after a few quick calls, came to the conclusion that neither of them existed in this reality. “Sorry, sweetie, it looks like they aren’t people here. Do you have any normal people we can try and take you to?”

Alternate-Robin glared at them. “Why would I tell you something that would lead to you figuring out my identity?”

“Because we already have a Robin, which means you probably don’t even have an identity here…”

They thought about this for a minute before groaning. “Fine. Find me Bruce Wayne… please.”

Bruce Wayne? Where had she heard the name before --?

Jason gave a laugh. “Wayne? The dead kid?”

Marinette reached out and gave his arm a tiny smack, because wow look at that now the Alternate-Robin (who she really needed to learn a new name for because I’m tired of writing that) looked like he was going to cry.

“Bruce Wayne is dead?”

“Uh… yes, sweetie, he died a long time ago,” she said gently. “I’m sorry, is there anyone else we might be able to take you to?”

Alternate-Robin thought for a minute before clicking his tongue. “I guess you can take me to Dick Grayson.”

Marinette and Jason were not prepared. Jason had been eating Trail Mix so he would have an excuse not to talk and was now choking, Marinette felt like the air had been sapped from her lungs. She was now very quickly doing math to try and figure out exactly how old this kid would have to be for it to be okay that Dick had a kid because she was extremely concerned --.

“Is he dead here, too?” Asked Alternate-Robin, who was definitely on the verge of tears now fuck --.

“No, he’s alive,” said Jason, who had managed to dislodge the M&M in his throat enough to speak. “It’s just…”

He looked at Marinette to try and figure out what to do, and she bit her lip anxiously as she thought it through...

“Okay. We’ll take you to him.”

~

HelmetRights: Okay, so, good news and bad news

Adrien cringed. That wasn’t exactly what you want to hear when you possibly shatter a dimension while creating a room for your newest.

ChatoNoir: Good news first.

HelmetRights: Good news is mom and I are okay

He breathed a sigh of relief and fell back on the couch. Great. At least that was fine. He could deal with any other problem.

HelmetRights: Bad news is there’s a kid from another dimension here asking for Dick Grayson claiming that HE is the ‘Robin’ of the other dimension where Bruce Wayne is alive and apparently ‘Batman’ is a thing

… Except for that. What the heck?

Pegasus: That’s one heck of a run on sentence…

HelmetRights: I know where you live

Buginette: we might be adopting him to because i dont know if he even exists here or how were going to get him home

HelmetRights: *Too

Buginette: i will help you murder helmet if you want pegasus

Pegasus: Thanks…

HelmetRights: You guys are the worst

HelmetRights: Anyways, we’re bringing him to see Dick because he apparently knows/likes him so everyone be nice

The house went still as the message came in, and then there was a string of cursing from multiple people and kwamis.

Adrien grabbed Plagg and stuffed him in the pocket of his jeans and then started ushering kwamis into their owner’s rooms.

Dick ran to his room, likely to grab a set of fake teeth to hide how sharp his teeth had become since taking the fox miraculous.

Tim started stashing all of his tech under floorboards.

Cass quickly pulled on her gloves so she wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally poisoning him if her nails grazed him.

Steph and Barbara met eyes and then apparently decided they didn’t care enough to get up from their spot, instead just continuing to watch TV.

Duke, who was new and therefore had the least to hide, just started tidying.

Only a few minutes later, the doorbell rang. He smiled as he went to open it, hoping against hope that whoever this weird Other-Robin was they were stupid enough to not notice the fact that everyone was more than a little out of breath.

He opened the door and fought the urge to squeal. The kid was so TINY.

The kid looked up at him and for a moment he could see the way surprise made its way across their expression before he turned around to look at Marinette. “Wait, you’re the original Ladybug?”

Marinette blinked a few times and then laughed awkwardly. “Yeah…?”

“Because that’s the original Chat Noir,” said Other-Robin, jerking his head towards Adrien.

The entire house froze up, unsure how to process this. Were their identities all well-known in this other dimension?

“Wait, is Paris still around in this reality?”

Marinette and Adrien paled a little bit. It seemed like in whatever reality this kid was from they hadn’t made the wish. This was really not how they wanted the kids to find out about all of that. In fact, they were hoping that this never would have come up at all…

Adrien flashed his brightest smile. “Mhmm. Anyways, since the jig is up, I guess you two can detransform…”

Marinette and Jason glanced at each other and shrugged before detransforming.

The kid’s eyes widened. “Todd?!”

Jason frowned and sunk into his hoodie a little bit. “Agreste, now, actually…”

The kid was hardly listening as he pushed past Adrien to get into the house. He took one look at the people gathered there and then turned back to the people at the door with a confused look.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”

They all exchanged frowns.

“Doing what on purpose?” Said Adrien.

Other-Robin examined all of their faces for a few minutes before shaking his head. “Okay… so, in this dimension, Bruce Wayne is dead, but you’re somehow all together here, too… there’s still, at least, a Robin but no Batman… and, apparently, Chat Noir and Ladybug didn’t fail here...” He pressed his hands to his temples. “Give me a minute, please, I need to process…”

The house seemed at a loss for what to do about the kid, because Other-Robin seemed like he was going to cry. Eventually Dick, who was the only one of them they knew had a good relationship with him, got off the couch and walked over to him.

“Hey… it’s a lot, yeah. Do you want some cookies? Mari made them and I think they’re really good. C’mon…” He gently rested a hand on the kid’s shoulder and steered him to the kitchen.

Marinette and Adrien met eyes again before pulling out their phones frantically. This was beginning to sound suspiciously like this was their fault and they didn’t like it...

He saw the day of the headline declaring the Waynes dead and bile built in the back of his throat.

The same day Emilie had died.

Ah. So that’s what the wish did.

He felt Marinette’s hand lock around his wrist and squeeze. He nodded his understanding.

They needed to get this kid as far away from here as possible before someone figured out what had happened.

~

“Who wants to take a trip to Paris?”

Everyone looked up instantly, their eyes wide. Fair enough, Marinette had never even considered going back before. Sure, she loved the idea of Paris, loved the idea of seeing her parents and visiting the sights, loved the idea of going back to the place she and Adrien had met…

But idealism had never been her friend. She knew that she would be miserable if she was back.

After all, everything there was just a reminder of what she couldn’t save.

(More importantly, knowing her luck she could be there for one hour and she’d still find a way to run into Lila. She was not about to start punching civilians no matter how awful they were.)

But, really, they needed to find Bunnix.

There wasn’t anyone that they knew of that could open dimensions reliably.

Sure, both she and Adrien knew how to scratch some runes on the wall and open portals to pocket dimensions. However, opening a random pocket dimension is completely different from choosing a specific dimension out of the millions of different realities that existed.

And Bunnix had time powers so… maybe there was a chance?

Yes, it was a stretch, but they had to try it.

“Damian, you have to come, but everyone else…?” She said, pointing to the computer on her lap. “Make your decision within the next five minutes, please, I need to buy plane tickets.”

Dick smiled. “Can we see your parents?”

Jason nodded and pointed at him. “Good point, no reason to go if we don’t get grandma’s cookies.”

“... you do realize that my dad is the one that does most of the -- nevermind.” Marinette clicked her tongue. “Yes, we can visit my parents. Who’s coming?”

Everyone raised their hand.

And that’s how they ended up on her parent’s doorstep with apologetic smiles and eight kids.

“Maman! Pere! Coucou!” She said, with an awkward smile and jazz hands to match.

Sabine took the kids in for a long time before looking at Marinette and Adrien pointedly. “I thought you were kidding when you said you had this many. You have a problem.”

Adrien sighed and looked at the ground. “I know…”

She broke into a smile and stepped aside so they could all file in. “Good. Now, everyone inside. It’s cold out and I’m sure you all want something warm to eat.”

The kids’ eyes all lit up and they rushed to the display cases. Tom Dupain smiled at them all as he helped serve the kids.

Marinette felt like joining them, but then her mother’s hands grabbed both her and her husband’s wrists.

“I need to know all of their names. And why is the little one wearing that outfit?”

She cringed mentally. She’d hoped that her parents would get so disoriented by all the kids that they wouldn’t really notice Damian, but really she should have known that was too much to ask. The kid was wearing the world’s worst color combination and was easily the most angry looking of all of them. He stood out.

She glanced at Adrien, who quickly started pointing out kids.

Marientte was left to try to think of an excuse. Eventually, when Adrien had listed off the last name, she said “He wanted to be an original vigilante for Halloween and he hasn’t taken the costume off since.”

Her mom looked a little skeptical for a second, but they were quickly distracted:

“HEY CAN I SEE MOM’S CHILDHOOD BEDROOM?” Yelled Jason.

“NO!” Said Marinette.

Tom, however, gave the kids the directions and she was left to watch in horror as they all started rushing upstairs to go get joke material.

She pursed her lips tightly. “It’s just one night. Just one night. Just one night…”

She felt Adrien press a kiss to her temple and gave him a weak smile.

~

It felt weird travelling with a young child and not carrying them the entire way.

After all, it would definitely go much faster if Damian just allowed him to pick him up, but apparently he had experience running across rooftops.

Part of him was concerned by this, the other part of him thought that he wasn’t able to criticize much about this ‘Batman’ guy’s particular parenting style. It wasn’t like he or Marinette were particularly against allowing kids to be vigilantes anymore, and he assumed Batman was the same way.

Either way, now the entire family and Damian all made their way along rooftops.

He glanced to the side and saw Marinette smiling behind her mask. He felt the same, honestly, there was an odd sense of nostalgia to it. They hadn’t done this since they were teens…

Speaking of blasts from the past, though, they came to a stop just outside of Alix’s house. It was a cute one-room apartment, which isn’t all that impressive until you consider the fact that it was facing the Eiffel Tower.

“Wow, Alix must be doing well for herself,” said Adrien absently as they slowly lowered themselves down to her window.

Marinette hummed lightly and tipped her head as they considered the fact that there was no one home.

He frowned. They’d been expecting her to be home, that was kind of annoying. Well, now she’d just think they were very loud burglars.

Whatever.

He glanced at Tim. “Pegasus, can we have an in?”

Tim opened a portal for them and there was a series of dull thuds as they all hit the carpet in Alix’s room.

Duke turned on the light for them and they all blinked a bit to get used to the light now spread through the room thanks to a lantern fastened to the ceiling.

And then… they had to wait.

Marinette and Adrien spent most of the time waiting by keeping their kids out of Alix’s stuff. They didn’t really like or dislike the woman, they were pretty neutral about most of their old classmates at this point, but they figured it would be best if they didn’t start off what was (to Alix’s knowledge) their first/only meeting by seeming like snooping pricks.

Speaking of snooping pricks…

Adrien extended his baton and hit the Dick across the room that was minding his own business on his phone and sighed when he disappeared into a puff of smoke. Man, he hated when he was right.

“Everyone, arms out, we need to find Robin.”

There was a collective groan of annoyance as everyone began reaching around --.

And then there was a loud snapping sound and they were all thrown into darkness. This only lasted a few seconds before the darkness seemed to part and creep into the dark edges of the room.

It seemed that Dick had, in a desperate attempt to not get touched and have his position get revealed, jumped onto the lantern that had been previously used as light. The lantern, in turn, had snapped under his weight…

Alix was going to hate them. Great.

Marinette frowned. “Wait, who did that? There’s no miraculi that can shift light...”

Duke raised his hand. “I’m a meta, actually. I have a few light-based powers. Like photokinetic vision and umbrakinesis.”

“Oh… cool,” said Marinette, who definitely didn’t know what those words meant. She quickly brushed past this, though: “The people underneath us are going to hate her.”

She grabbed Dick by the back of his outfit and pulled him to his feet.

Damian clicked his tongue. “You’re all children.”

“You’re… ten, max,” said Jason.

“Thirteen!”

“Really? But you’re so tiny…” said Tim, reaching out a hand to touch the baby fat still present on Damian’s cheeks.

Damian scowled and batted his hand away. “Don’t touch me, Drake.”

“Agreste,” said Tim absently.

This made him pause momentarily. “You took the Agreste name?”

“... yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Damian opened his mouth, and then slowly looked around. “Did everyone take the Agreste name here?”

Dick shrugged and shook his head. “Duke and I kept our names to honor our birth parents, but everyone else did.”

Whatever the kid was going to say next was cut off when Alix entered her apartment and screamed at the sight of all the vigilantes just casually walking around.

Adrien and Dick cringed and brought their hands up to cover their ears and only relaxed again when Alix finally stopped. Now Alix had just frozen up and Adrien almost felt bad about interrupting her internal freakout…

But they really needed to get a move on, so...

“Sal --!” Wait, no, Alix had never worked with them in this reality, that was too informal. “Je suis désolé. Bonjour, Madame!”

“What are you doing in my house?”

“Well…” Began Marinette. “We need some help from Bunnix.”

Alix hesitated momentarily and, before she could say something along the lines of ‘I don’t know how to help you’, Adrien cut in:

“Please, this will go so much faster if you don’t lie. We just need help and then we’ll be on our way.”

She frowned a little bit and then nodded, mumbling to transform.

In seconds a blue portal not unlike Tim’s stretched in the middle of the room and she waved for them to come inside.

There was a moment’s hesitation and then Adrien sighed. “Right, we’re going to do this as quickly as possible so… everyone except for Ladybug, Other-Robin, and me are going to stay here. Sound good?”

Everyone grumbled a little bit about being left out, especially Dick and Jason, but they all agreed with a nod.

The three stepped through after Alnix. Adrien rolled his eyes when he glanced back and saw all the kids crowded around the portal, faces pressed as close to it as they could without technically going through and breaking the rules.

“You know, your French is really good for Americans,” said Alix awkwardly.

Adrien tried not to sound too offended when he said, “You think we’re Americans?”

“... yeah. You patrol in America.”

Marinette also looked a little put out, but she gave Adrien a pointed look that he was pretty sure meant ‘Don’t tell her we’re French we have secret identities for a reason’. He pouted a little bit but let the subject drop.

They walked until they were in the center and Adrien fought the urge to vomit into a random time period. The place was… trippy. It was both spherical and endless, bright colors spiraled in every portal but all that he could see was white, a high-pitched whine filled his ears and yet he was sure he heard nothing.

He glanced down at Damian and saw the kid looking around wildly, his jaw open in a mix of shock and horror. He reached over and covered his mask gently.

“Okay, what’s the problem?” Said Alix.

Marinette and Adrien exchanged frowns.

“Right, so… this is Damian Wayne. He’s Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

“Bruce Wayne’s dead.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Exactly. He’s from another dimension, one where Bruce Wayne didn’t die.”

Alix frowned. “That’s not my thing, sorry.”

Adrien sighed. “Yeah, we thought so…” He discreetly slid a hand down to cover Damian’s mouth. “... but, say we brought back Bruce Wayne. Because I’m pretty sure that’s the only real difference, so… what would happen?”

“Probably something catastrophic,” said Alix. “Even if he was just some random guy there would be huge problems, but this is a billionaire. There’s no way that wouldn’t mess things up.”

Adrien opened his mouth, but she shook her head.

“We aren’t going to be doing that. If that’s all, I’d suggest you go,” she said coldly.

He glanced at his wife and frowned. It looked like she was going to argue, her face red, and then her skin suddenly drained of color. Adrien glanced at where she was looking and saw why: three portals were glitching. One alternated between a kid crying over two bodies in an alley and a scene of three dead socialites. The other two started with the same scene, of four people watching a fire, but then quickly flicked back to what they knew to be Adrien and Marinette in their rooms.

He quickly turned around. “Fine, we know when to give up. Let’s go,” he said.

The portal closed behind them and he fought the urge to wince. Hopefully Alix would never notice that was off…

He looked around and saw the kids standing there, arms crossed over their chests.

“It looks like we can’t fix it…” said Adrien awkwardly. “So, everyone, say hi to your new little brother, Damian.”

He had pulled his hands from Damian’s face now that they were out of The Burrow, but now he wanted to put them back on. He didn’t know what to do with them and had to settle for just putting them on his hips.

“You’re hiding something,” Dick said. “Spill.”

He met Marinette’s eyes and she bit her lip nervously.

He sighed. “Fine. Let’s head back to the hotel. We’ll tell you on the way.”

Tim opened a portal for them and they began running along the rooftops again.

“So, our story starts on September 19, 30 years ago… the day my mother died...”

~

Marinette bit her lip. The family hadn’t said anything since they had told them the story, and the longer they were silent the more her anxiety increased.

Now, they were standing in an alley, detransformed, a block away from their hotel. They could all move -- should, probably, it was kind of cold out and if they didn’t get inside soon Tim would definitely catch something -- but no one seemed particularly eager to.

She shrugged off one of her jackets and handed it to Tim. The movement seemed to startle everyone back into reality.

“So, what you’re saying is… the reason why my dad and I don’t exist here is because you two made a reckless, selfish wish?” Said Damian, his voice soft.

Marinette winced. Part of her was tempted to say that it wasn’t selfish, that a bunch of people were now alive, but she knew that wasn’t true. After all, she and Adrien had definitely been concerned that something would happen that would kill a bunch of people in the place of those they had resurrected.

“Yes, and I’m really sorry,” she said.

“And we’ve suspected that things were going a specific way because the timeline was trying to right itself for a while, we just…” Adrien sighed. “... we never thought that we would ever actually get confirmation on it.”

Another silence stretched through the alley, and then Jason turned to Damian.

“Am I dead in your reality?”

Damian blinked a few times and then nodded. “You died when you were fifteen and then were brought back thanks to the League of Assassins…”

“That explains the ‘legally dead’ thing. Always thought that was weird.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Damn, I can’t even drive because other-me’s dumbass died.”

Dick raised his hand like a kid in school. “I have a question: do they like my puns over there, at least?”

“No. Everyone hates them.”

He pouted. “Man…”

The family started clamoring for answers as to what their alternate versions were doing, and Marinette exchanged looks with her husband. This was… definitely not the response they'd been expecting.

Marinette frowned. “Um… shouldn’t you guys be more… concerned? Disgusted? We let a bunch of people die…”

She got a bunch of shrugs.

Tim grinned. “You brought them back, didn’t you? Besides, over there I don’t have powers. This is way better.”

“Bet our trust funds are bigger over there, though,” said Steph thoughtfully. Then she shrugged. “Eh, still okay here, I guess.”

Barbara shrugged. “And, really, I don’t like the idea of being paralyzed by a clown of all things. Though I wish he was still alive so I could --.”

“THERE IS A CHILD PRESENT,” interrupted Dick, reaching out to cover Damian’s ears.

(The kid nearly chopped off his hands for attempting to do so, but Dick didn’t seem all that concerned as he dodged and stuffed them in his pockets.)

“I like being alive,” Jason chimed in. “Way cooler this way.”

Duke shrugged. “And it seems like Gotham is a little bit safer with you guys in charge. Less outright evil people with stupid gimmicks.”

Cass beamed and waved for Damian’s attention so she could sign: “Speaking of, how is Uncle Nygma doing in the other world?”

Damian stared at her like she was insane. “You’ve… you made The Riddler your uncle?!”

They nodded.

“He’s like… the cool uncle that teaches you how to avoid your taxes!” Explained Jason.

Adrien and Marinette hoped that they were just talking about the vibe that their ‘uncle’ gave off and not something that Nygma had actually done. They didn’t need any government agencies on their asses.

Speaking of government agencies…

Marinette pulled Tim aside. “Hey, I need you to make some documentation for Damian. I think we can pass him off as a biological child, he looks close enough to a mix of us, but… yeah, we need him to ‘exist’.”

Tim nodded. “I’ll do it when I get to our hotel room.”

She smiled.

~

Adrien eventually managed to coax all the kids inside.

Marinette and Barbara had spent some time on the plane ride attempting to make a sleeping arrangement that took into account a bunch of factors including sleeping patterns and compatibility, but they hadn’t even made it inside their rooms before the kids decided that they would take it into their own hands.

It started with Dick and Jason grabbing Tim and Marinette before they could disappear into their room so they wouldn’t be able to stay up.

(“At least let me get my computer!” “NO!”)

And then Cass, Duke, and Adrien all decided that they were bored and made their way to the room.

And then Damian, who had been feeling left out, ended up coming by as well.

The only person left out was Barbara, who had decided that she actually wanted to sleep that night.

Let me tell you, beds are not made for ten people to sleep on them. By the time Cass had gotten on they had heard the bed creak a little too loudly and decided that, hey, the floor isn’t THAT uncomfortable.

So they’d pushed the bed to the side and grabbed all the blankets from every room they’d paid for for a slumber party.

Adrien and Marinette were currently being crushed underneath their kids, but otherwise it was going great.

Damian was sitting the furthest away, pouting. Marinette had finally convinced (forced) him to change out of the Other-Robin costume and now he was wearing some of Cass and Tim’s old clothes.

Now, listen, when Adrien sees kids in oversized clothes pouting in a corner away from everyone, his first instinct is to go help. However, his instincts were kind of overruled right now because he couldn’t get up if he tried. Jason was sitting on his legs and Steph was attempting to braid his hair.

He had to settle for a smile and a “Damian… want to join us?”

“No. You all are… grossly affectionate.”

Adrien laughed a little bit, then realized he was being serious. “We’re… cuddling. It’s a normal thing.”

“It’s gross.”

He frowned a little bit and scrutinized Damian’s face. Did he not do this with his family?

The kid cleared his throat and looked away. “My father will come for me eventually and it is best if I do not attach myself to any of you.”

“Aren’t you already attached to us, though?” Said Dick, who had trapped Tim in his sweater so he couldn’t get up for extra coffee.

“None of you are exactly the same as you are in my world.”

Jason shrugged and flipped the page in his book. “Obviously not, we were raised by different people. It’s simple behaviorism.”

“Nerd,” said Tim, who had the least ability to criticize out of all of them.

“Shut up, Timbo.”

Marinette muttered something that might have been “Kwami the nicknames are getting worse” from where she was currently being crushed by Cass and Duke, who were using her stomach as a flat surface for a card game.

(“Got any sevens?” “I thought we were playing speed…?”)

“Either way, we probably all have the same general traits,” said Dick, who was apparently deciding to ignore all his siblings. Smart.

Adrien shrugged as much as he could without disturbing his kids. “And we don’t know when your dad will get here, humans need socialization to survive. Right, Mr. Psych Major?”

Jason hesitated and then made a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand. “It’s more like you need socialization to remain physically and mentally healthy but for the most part you wouldn’t die you’d just wither away --.”

“NERD.”

Jason pushed himself to his feet and oh wow so that’s what breathing was like Adrien had almost forgotten but wait no fighting is bad.

Dick quickly realized the problem with holding onto Tim while Jason was mad at him and abandoned ship, releasing the kid from the confines of his sweater and rushing away to cling to Damian instead.

Then Tim and Jason relaxed.

“Thanks, Jay.”

“Hm. You owe me twenty.”

“Gotcha.” Tim glanced at Marinette. “Want some coffee while I’m up?”

Marinette wheezed. They just assumed she meant yes.

Dick gasped as he watched Tim hop through a portal provided by Kaalki to get coffee. “I’ve been tricked!”

“Yes, clearly, Grayson. Now get off of me!”

Dick pouted and continued to cling to the child. “No. Tim is rude. I need comfort.”

“Unhand me!”

“Aw, come on, you love the other me it’s only a matter of time until you eventually love me, too!”

“MARINETTE! TELL HIM TO STOP TOUCHING ME!”

“MARIIIIII ALL THE YOUNG ONES ARE BEING RUDE.”

The person in question just wheezed again.

Damian was forced to resign himself to his fate.

Adrien rolled his eyes and sunk back into Steph’s lap.

He had almost managed to get to sleep but then Jason sat himself down on his chest again and dang it he’d just gotten used to oxygen again this sucks…

But at least everyone was relaxing for once.

~

What was the most upsetting thing about learning about the other version of herself?

The other version got a hamster! SHE couldn’t get a hamster.

Well…

Actually, she’s a grown adult. She can do what she wants.

But she was going to ask Barbara first…

She poked her head into Dick and Barbara’s shared room and was surprised to see Damian was also there. Huh. Apparently attachments do transfer over, whether or not Damian wanted to admit it.

Whatever. She’d had a mission.

She looked at the woman currently typing away at her computer. “Hey, I’m getting a hamster at the store.”

“Cool.”

Marinette pumped her fist in the air in victory and then turned to leave, only to hear Damian’s voice:

“Can I visit the pet store, too?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Yeah, don’t see why not. You dressed?”

“I am.”

She grinned and pulled her keys from her pocket and twirled them around her finger. “Let’s go, then.”

Despite having thought this would be just a her thing, she was okay with bringing Damian along. After all, she’d only have him for a little while and…

Actually, maybe bonding with a kid who was going to be gone in an indeterminate amount of time was a bad thing…

Ah, crap. Too late.

She brushed this thought from her mind and started on her way downstairs, only to quickly find herself joined by multiple kids: Jason had decided she wasn’t allowed to bond with anyone if he wasn’t there, Duke had wanted to see the animals, Steph had just been bored…

She realized that maybe it was time to get a bigger car as they reached the max capacity. There was still six other kids...

Also her husband. Him too.

Whatever, at least they had enough seats for this specific trip.

The moment she got there, Damian was gone in a blur of red. She blinked a few times and then muttered a curse. Great. She lost a kid. Already.

Well, at least she had everyone else, still --.

Nope. Only Jason had remained with her.

Does getting leashes for children count as child abuse? She didn’t know.

Jason grinned. “I’m the best kid,” he said.

She clicked her tongue. “You’re the best behaved kid at this exact moment.”

“I’ll take it.”

She gave his shoulder a tiny shove. “Whatever. Help me find them.”

“Dad is gonna be pissed when we show up with a hamster, y’know,” he said.

“What’s he going to say? ‘It’s a lot of responsibility?’ ‘You should have talked to me first?’”

“Fair enough.”

She found Duke looking at the fish and grabbed him by the back of his jacket and started pulling him along. “Besides, if he let Alternate-Me have one then he probably won’t be that mad.”

“We don’t know how mad he was,” muttered Duke as he was dragged along the floors.

Jason picked up Steph as they walked past her in the dog section. “Not divorce mad, at least.”

Steph whined and kicked her legs against Jason’s chest. “I want a divorce from this family!”

“Not at all how that works,” said Jason.

“You need a job to be emancipated,” said Duke.

“I’m concerned that you know --,” Marinette cut herself off mid sentence and then made a quiet sound in the back of her throat that she was pretty sure was a squeal.

Damian was currently being swarmed by about twenty cats. He looked somewhat distressed, though only because he was having trouble petting them all with his two hands. His red hoodie was now covered in multicolored cat hair.

“Can we please get them?” Asked Damian when he had finally spotted them.

Hm…

“We can get one of them --.”

“Each,” said Steph, who had managed to squirm out of Jason’s grip and run to the cat pile.

Marinette hesitated. Man, she was weak. There was four kids all giving her the cutest pouts and she wasn’t able to say no to that.

She clicked her tongue and looked away. “Well, I guess Adrien still would be happier with a bunch of cats than a hamster…”

“NICE!”

“I still get to name one JJ, though, and teach it to run around in a hamster ball,” she muttered as she walked over and started sifting through the animals.

When she got home she was almost tempted to pull an Adrien and see how long she could hide all the cats for, but she was 99% sure he could talk to cats (Jason had once had an in-depth conversation with a turtle, she wasn’t eager to replicate the feat with a beetle). They’d probably snitch on her.

So she went and found him in their room, the four kids trailing behind them.

Then she glanced at Damian. “Hey, sweetie, you should go through first and just say that you weren’t allowed cats in the other dimension and you wanted to get them while you still could.”

Damian frowned. “But that’s lying.”

“Think of it as doing what you need to.”

His face hardened and then softened into the world’s cutest pout as he slowly opened the door and stepped inside, his cat (Pennyworth) held close to him.

“Uh…”

“We got cats!”

“Uh…”

“Please, can I keep them? My father wouldn’t let me have them and…”

Four hours later, she sat with her husband on the bed in one of the few moments of alone time they were ever allowed.

But, also, she had JJ with her and she wasn’t intending on letting him go anytime soon.

“I know you allowed them all to get cats without even trying to convince them otherwise. Pennyworth ratted you out.”

“Listen, you should have seen Damian. He was so cute, you wouldn’t have been able to resist, either.”

Adrien sighed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “I’m beginning to think we should have gone with that manor my dad offered to buy all those years ago.”

“Is it still open?”

“What’s the point? We’ll have to move in a few years anyways.”

She groaned. “Fuck, I forgot about that.”

He gave a tiny laugh and buried his face in her neck. “Yeah, I don’t know how much longer we can get away with ‘model skincare routines are just like that’.”

She clicked her tongue, letting her fingers glide through his hair.

“... what if Damian’s dad can’t get here in time?”

“Finders keepers?”

She couldn’t see it but she knew Adrien was rolling his eyes.

“He’ll just have to get here in time,” said Marinette. She bit her lip and added a: “I’m sure he will.”

~

Despite being sure that Batman had to be trying his hardest to get here, years passed.

After all, dimension hopping is hard even when you know exactly where you’re going. Adrien and Marinette hadn’t even thought it really possible. Sure, they knew there were other dimensions and that it was possible to go between them, but targeting specific dimensions to travel to…?

So they weren’t exactly surprised when no guy named Bruce Wayne or Batman showed up to claim the kid.

That was fine. They could take care of a kid. (They’d done it before and, even if this one had a lot of social problems, this was nothing compared to taking care of a young Dick Grayson. At least this one stayed on the floor.)

What wasn’t fine that the kid was definitely not handling the fact that his father hadn’t found him yet well.

When they saw how distressed Damian was, they tried to fix the problem themselves.

Adrien had opened a pocket dimension and when, predictably, a portal opened to swallow Tim up they’d asked the people on the other side if they were missing a Robin. The people on the other side had looked at him weird and then pointed at a kid in an equally ghastly outfit as the one Damian had shown up in. So that was out of the question, it was opening new realities every time.

Marinette had asked all the kwamis, but it seemed that even gods are limited to their own realities. Something about upsetting a balance or whatever.

They had even granted immunity to any criminal that could get them to another reality, but if there were any they weren’t eager to make themselves known.

… so, yeah, that hadn’t worked the way they’d wanted it to.

They were at a loss of what to do.

They had to move soon, the questions about their appearance were becoming more and more common. People were beginning to speculate on how Adrien and Marinette had some weird inability to age, and were beginning to note that all the other people in their family had also seemingly stopped aging at around twenty. Could any skincare routine really be that good?

(No. Adrien knew for a fact that the answer was no. Any model knew the answer was no.)

And it wasn’t like they could just leave this child alone in the city. Sure, the kid knew self-defense, but there was a high chance of them asking for a social security number if he applied for a job…

After an unfortunate loss in a game of rock-paper-scissors, it was made Adrien’s job to break the news.

Adrien sighed and gently knocked on the wall next to the portal to Damian’s room.

“You may come in.”

He poked his head around carefully and sent an awkward wave to the kid.

Damian had been working out, it seemed, punching a punching bag. Adrien didn’t think that boded well for him, if he was being honest. Maybe he should come back another time --.

“What do you need?”

He winced internally and slowly crossed the room to sit on the bed. He patted the space behind him.

Damian clicked his tongue but did end up sitting down beside him.

“We need to talk about your options.”

“What options?”

“Whether you want to continue waiting for your dad to come get you or if you want to be part of our family…”

Damian frowned. “Why aren’t you going to stay?”

Adrien cringed a little bit. He might as well be blunt about it to make sure he got the point across. “Alright. Look at me.”

Damian nodded and looked him in the eyes.

“I’m almost fifty.”

The kid was not prepared if the way he reeled back in surprise was any indication.

“But you -- you --!”

“I know, that’s the problem. We can’t stay much longer before our secret identities aren’t as much of a secret anymore. We’re still planning to help Gotham, obviously, Tim can open portals to get us here, but… we all need to essentially go off the grid until everyone forgets what we look like...”

He got a frown. “But…”

“We won’t stop you from staying here. You’d need a job so we can emancipate you. We’ll still send you money and stuff when we can, of course, but that’s your option for staying here. We didn’t give you a miraculous, you age normally. You can live a normal life here until your dad picks you up…”

Damian nodded slowly. “And what’s the other option?”

“You move away with us. You can have a miraculous, if you want, and if not then that’s also fine but we won’t let you join in vigilantism unless you have one. If you don’t want to be a vigilante then we’ll pay for everything you need and support you in whatever you choose to do.”

“But I’d have to give up hoping that Batman would find me.”

Adrien winced and nodded.

Damian closed his eyes and rested his head on Adrien’s shoulder. “Why hasn’t he come yet?” He whispered, so quiet that he’d almost thought he’d imagined it.

“I’m sure he’s trying, Dami, it’s just not an easy thing to do.”

“Do you think he’ll ever get here?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I think if he was going to then he would have done it already.”

He felt a face bury itself in his shoulder and frowned when his shirtsleeve wettened. He hesitated. Did Damian want him to acknowledge it? Would it be bad for a temporary father figure to hug a child over the likely loss of their original father? He didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Dami,” he murmured. “Do you want me to call Dick in here?”

“No…”

“Want me to leave?”

“No…”

He nodded slightly and drew the kid into a hug, resting his chin on top of Damian’s head. “Okay.”

“What if he doesn’t want me?” Damian sniffled.

Adrien closed his eyes. “Then, frankly, he’s stupid.”

He heard the kid laugh a little bit. “Yeah, he is a bit stupid.”

He didn’t answer, just pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

~

Marinette clicked her tongue and pointed at the whiteboard labelled ‘what to do about the crime thing’.

“More murder?” Offered Steph.

She rolled her eyes but wrote it down.

“More inconsistent patrols,” offered Duke. “So they have a harder time telling when we’ll catch them.”

She nodded thoughtfully and wrote it down.

Dick raised his hand. “Fix the court system.”

“Too much work,” she said, not even bothering to write it. “Not enough time.”

Tim didn’t even look up from his computer. “Get the social security numbers of every crime lord in Gotham and release them to the public. See what happens.”

She mumbled a “Alright, someone is losing computer privileges for the week…” She wrote down a reminder to do that in the corner.

“What if we…” Jason shrugged. “... become the major crime lords, rule over everyone, and shoot everyone who doesn’t fall in line. We wouldn’t be able to stop crime entirely but at least we’d get to choose what they’re doing.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“Then we split into factions publicly. Give west side to Dad and Dickwad, Cass and Duke get the south, you and I can take the area around crime alley, and so on…”

Everyone looked at each other and then shrugged. Yeah. They’d tried everything else, why not?

~~~

Guess who wrote a finale at a normal time for once~

~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladythugs @moonlightstar64 @dahjokester @jjmjjktth

[janekfan]

hi mom. sorry i havent talked with you much recently but ive definitely been following ur stuff (which youve probably noticed). ive been extremely busy with much longer work hours, sometimes needing to find a place to hide so i can plop down and pass out for a few minutes. if you wanna write something regarding that, however you want to, it would bring me a lot of comfort ♡

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26659246

For @flame-cat my child! I’m so very proud of you! I hope this fits :) I can always try again <3 <3 <3

Jon lifted his head, groggy and sore, from the surface of his messy desk, a spare post it stuck to his cheek. He blinked hard, rubbing the sleep from his stinging, burning eyes and peeled away the paper to slip it back into the folder. Ever since his promotion he’d been burning the candle at both ends in an attempt to balance all of the new responsibilities despite not having any of the relevant experience. Sasha would have been a much better choice and for the life of him, Jon couldn’t figure out Elias’ game. How did having a bumbling, idiot Archivist benefit him in any way?

He rubbed his temples, cursing the persistent ache. Barely getting through a statement a week already felt like running a marathon every time, leaving him exhausted and irritable and the worst part about it all was not being able to ask for help. He’d thought. Well. He’d though having Tim and Sasha accompany him would make the whole thing a little more bearable. They were friends. Friends took care of each other and they understood it wasn’t his decision, right? That he’d tried to argue his way out of it, tried to explain that he wasn’t the person for this job.

He was probably being sensitive. They had responsibilities. They were busy.

It’s not all about you, Jon.

But he was so lonely.

Tired.

And it only became worse as the weeks went on though he didn’t know how bad it had gotten until one of the library staff poked him awake at the end of one of the “K” shelves. He’d only sat down for a moment on the bottom rung of a rolling ladder.

“Mr. Sims?”

“Wah--?” So eloquent when the library assistant shook him by the shoulder out of concern.

“Can I help you find something?” They smiled. “Like the door? So that you might go home and get some rest?”

“No, no, I’m alright.” He plucked a book at random. “I was just looking for this.” They didn’t seem convinced and smiled indulgently.

“A book on kinephantoms?” And Jon drew himself up to his full, diminutive height.

“Wha--yes. Yes, or course.” Clearing his throat he turned on his heel and stalked back into the archives.

“Hello? Tim? Um.”

“What can I do you for, boss?” Jon was exceptionally nervous and he didn’t know why but as Tim whirled around in his chair, pen flipping over his fingers, it spiked in his gut, made him sick.

“Ah yes, the, the research I asked for, l’last week.” Deep breath, be the boss, delegate and follow up. “How is it coming along?”

“Oh, yeah! The research. It’s ‘coming along.’ Should have it ready in a few days. How’s after the weekend sound?” Horrible.

If he was being honest.

“Yes, of course.” But he wasn’t. “That would be just fine, thank you, Tim.” He tucked the folder he had brought for him behind his back and left the way he came.

“Jon?”

“Sasha?” He looked up from his reading to find her in his doorway and a cup of cold tea on the corner of his desk. When had that--? “How can I help you?”

“I just had some questions regarding what you needed for that last statement.” Disappointment flooded his tongue with salt. His instructions must have been lacking. He’d have to try better this second time.

It took the rest of the afternoon and Jon, having already worked through lunch, was feeling light headed from lack of sleep and food by the time Sasha was ready to start her research. She. She couldn’t, wouldn’t? Pretend? Not to know would she? All her questions, she was more suited to this job than he was.

No. He was being paranoid. He was just tired.

Disorienting pain lanced through his chin, echoing through his jaw and into his skull and he groaned. He’d fallen asleep propped up on his arm and paid the price for it with a bruised and throbbing face.

“Jon?”

Go’way.

“Jon?”

Lemme sleep.

“Jon?”

“Mmartin?” With difficulty, he was able to pry his eyes open, blinking away the cobwebs, the dust clinging to his lashes.

“What are you doing down here?” Martin was pulling him to his feet and Jon wanted nothing more than to curl back up and drift away.

“Was looking for--oh?” It was in his hand and he lifted it as evidence. “This?”

“You look exhausted.” Automatically Jon was denying it despite knowing the shadows beneath his eyes were like bruises, shaking his head and backing away without even enough stale air in his body to say the right words until he left Martin behind.

It was just a stupid, silly mistake. Nothing tragic or irreversible or cataclysmic, he just dropped a box of organized and neatly filed statements. Just dropped a box representing hours and hours of time and research and missed meals and lost sleep and proof of his incompetence and before he knew it he was on his knees amidst the papers and ink and photos and notes and it was all. Too. Much.

He didn’t even notice the tears at first, not until they hit his hands and he cried more of them in his frustration, wiping them angrily away and only ending up with his face buried in his folded knees because he was just. So. Tired. Jon didn’t know how long he sat there in the hallway, arms tucked around himself and holding all his pieces together, but it was long enough that someone came upon him and he hurried about tidying the pages and stuffing them back into envelopes.

“Boss?” Jon scrubbed his face, turning around with his most dictatorial expression. It wouldn’t do for him to see out how terrible he was at this. How awful.

“Ah, just dropped some files. I’ve got it.”

“Have you been--?”

“No! No.” He began to gather the mess faster, jamming statements into folders, into files, all out of order because if he stayed here any longer under his scrutiny he would end up sobbing.

“Do you need some help?”

“No.” Biting and cold. Drive him away.

“Jon.”

“No, I. I just can’t, I’ll get the hang of it. I just need to work harder.”

“Hey.”

“I’m just. I’m. I’m tired...that’s all.” It didn’t sound convincing to him, let alone to his subordinate. Not to Tim who’d known him before this whole fiasco. He stood, box in hand and staggered into the wall when the hallway tilted sideways, caught by Tim before he could go down again. Defeated, he let him take the statements. Let him leave it on the floor and lead him away.

“Oi, boss. When’s the last time you ate anything?” His hands were trembling in Tim’s and when he went to pull them away, the man held fast, drew him into an awkward hug.

“Oh...uh. I, I can’t, I suppose I can’t remember.” Caught, exposed, Jon let his face fall into Tim’s chest.

“Okay, okay, let’s get you taken care of.”

Suffering Martin’s fussing and fretting, while he didn’t understand it, wasn’t as intolerable as usual. He’d taken one look at Jon and wrapped him up in his well-worn cardigan and sat him at the rickety table with a cup of tea and orders to drink it. With his second mug he handed Jon a packet of biscuits and, not able to escape while sandwiched annoyingly (comfortingly) between Tim and Sasha, he had no choice but to nibble on them. After his third, Sasha tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

“I want to apologize, Jon. I wasn’t doing anything to make this any easier on you.”

“No, you’ve. You’ve been helpful and--” He was horrified that she would think his own shortcomings were any fault of her own.

“Not as helpful as we could have been, boss.” Jon looked between them so quickly it set his head to spinning. “We’re much better at research than we’ve led you to believe.”

“It was frustrating.”

“I’m s’sorry.”

“Not because of you.” He allowed Sasha to tug his head down to her shoulder. “We should have noticed you were running yourself ragged cleaning up after us.” Delightfully cozy and warm, Jon was dozing off and she chuckled. “Okay, okay, let’s get you tucked in. We can make it up to you after your nap.” Jon tried to resist, tried to rattle off all the work he still had left to do but all that came out of his fickle mouth were mumbling, sleepy, embarrassing noises. They set him up on the ratty break room couch and it was the most comfortable he’d been in ages. If he could just manage a coherent sentence…but the pillow was so soft beneath his aching head, the blanket Martin was settling over his shoulders just heavy enough and he tried one more time to say anything at all when Martin lifted the glasses off his face and folded them aside.

“Mhm, of course, yes, boss, whatever you say boss.” Sasha’s fingers running through his hair were his final undoing and between one gentle touch and the next, he let himself go.

[grantyort]

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.  

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

 [Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean! 

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait! 

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

 DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white] 

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response.  Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go. 

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for... 

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Ive never really understood the hype surrounding Taylor Swift - I mean, I like some of her songs, but im not big on modern pop music so generally she just doesn’t really click for me. But I find it interesting that theres quite a few of Beatles/Swift blogs - like, they should have very little in common given that they’re from completely different eras and all, but somehow people seem to find a lot of semblance between the two. << and thats not me shitting on any of these blogs btw! Hope I don’t come off as rude or condescending there <3

Anyway, I was just wondering what got you into Taylor Swift? (I think ive read your post on how you got into the Beatles)

Hi, anon! Don't worry, I don't think you're rude or condescending! I agree they don't have too much in common and I don't really like their music for the same reasons.* I do have a playlist of Paul songs that have similar vibes to Taylor songs but it's mostly lyric-based. (Also the Beatles For Sale songs actually have quite the Taylor-tinge because Paul and John were not immune to Country Music)

I saw @stewy say once that a possible reason there are a good handful of us Swiftie-Beatle People on here is the appeal of a vast discography, which I agree with. If you have an artist/group with 200ish songs, it's just really fun to really dive into their work and explore all the facets. I also think: we're talking about the most popular band of all time and one of the highest-selling artists of the 21st century. They have a lot of fans so there's bound to be overlap, regardless of musical differences.

Moving on to your question: Getting into Taylor was an extremely personal experience for me and so my explanation is probably going to be kind of long so I'll put it under a read more.

It was spring-summer 2014, I was 15. I had heard the more popular songs of hers starting with Love Story and enjoyed pretty much all of them (I always found her hopelessly romantic point of view fascinating) but before I got a Spotify account in 2013 it was difficult in general for me to really get into an artists' entire discography so most of her songs had flown under my radar.

At the time, I was in this very weird sort of codependent online friendship with this girl who was basically my first real best friend and my first more or less crush. She was very depressed and I was very much in an I Could Fix Her™ mood, except that I obviously couldn't fix her and it made me feel like I wasn't enough and she had begun pulling more and more away from me and not replying to my messages and it was simply driving me insane. I consider it the saddest period in my life.

at some point during this period, I started trying to connect with other people (all online, I didn't know how to talk seriously to anyone IRL) and explaining the issues I'd been having, and one of the people who brought me joy and whom I actually felt not drained talking to was a huge swiftie. And IDK the fact that she loved Taylor and the fact that talking to her made my life better (and also the fact that I liked all the Taylor songs I knew at that point) just made me decide to give her a listen. And I think that whole "large discography discovery" phenomenon really helped me at the time (funny, because her discography has doubled since then). It gave me something new to focus on; there were just so many songs to discover, all telling such rich stories. I also have always loved bridges, they are almost always my favourite part of a song. And Taylor, god-bless her, loves them too and always puts her ALL in them. Like pretty much every bridge of hers brings the song to the next level, and even a lot of her songs I don't adore tend to have great bridges (Stay Stay Stay and Paper Rings come to mind). I think one of her most underrated qualities is how good she is at song structure and really building up an entire musical journey with a song. She also almost always adds cool ad-libs in her second and third choruses to keep the songs interesting and dynamic (or at least since she's gone pop). Anyways, back to the story: Then Taylor announced 1989 as her next album and released Shake It Off, and it was just like this great happy thing for me to look forward to, when I had very little keeping me going. The era was promoting a lot of happiness which in hindsight was slightly fabricated and it was just a really great thing for me to latch onto.

At the same time I was coming to realize that I was gonna have to pull away completely from my friend and all those break-up songs just… Hit, y'know? Like, some people seem to think Taylor's a one-trick pony because she likes to write break-up songs but to me, break-ups are just like this moment where you as a human can potentially feel every single emotion, and Taylor's songs have covered every facet of the concept. Here are some songs I remember from that period, that all meant a lot to me at the time because they explained my own pain to me so well:

Haunted, for the absolute terror you feel in the first moments you realize someone is probably gonna leave you. Come on, come on / Don't leave me like this / I thought I had you figured out / Something's gone terribly wrong / You're all I wanted.

I Almost Do, for the inner turmoil you feel when you know you have to stay away from someone for your own good but you really, really have to resist just running back to that person. We've made quite a mess, Babe / It's probably better off this way / And I confess, Babe / In my dreams you're touching my face / And asking me if I wanna try again / With you / And I almost do.

Last Kiss, for that absolute sadness that comes simply with remembering everything that was good and not comprehending how it could've possibly ended. I still remember / The look on your face / Lit through the darkness / At 1:58 / Words that you whispered / For just us to know / You told me you loved me / So why did you go / Away?

Forever and Always, for that feeling of desperately wanting to hold on to what you still have but at the same time realizing it probably isn't going to last and having no idea how to fix it, plus feeling like the other person doesn't even care. So here's to everything / Coming down to nothing / Here's to silence / That cuts me to the core / Where is this going? / Thought I knew for a minute / But I don't anymore.

Dear John, my all-time favourite song, for that moment you find clarity and realize that you deserved better and that you were headed in an extremely dark direction because of this other person. [DISCLAIMER: my friend did NOT abuse me nor did we have some inappropriate age difference. But the way she would ignore me and her general moodiness really affected my own mental health and self-worth problems] You paint me a blue sky / And go back and turn it to rain / And I lived in your chess games / But you changed the rules every day / Wondering which version of you I might get on the phone / Tonight / Well I stopped picking up / And this song is to let you know why.

(She's covered more aspects of break-ups in other songs [cheating, divorce, feeling awkward around your ex amongst others], these are just the ones I remember being really important to me when I was first getting into her)

She really helped me feel a lot less alone during one of my loneliest periods and I really can't thank her enough for that. Soon after this, I started crushing on a girl in my class and Taylor's love songs started to take on a new meaning for me as well.

What's crazy to me is, when she went on hiatus for a few years, a part of me thought maybe I'd grown out of her and no longer had much in common with her, but when reputation came out I was pulled right back into my love for her as a person and musician and then when Lover came out I found that she was still explaining feelings to me better than I ever could (specifically with the songs The Archer and Cornelia Street). And now with folklore and evermore she's simply absolutely perfected her story-telling and I find myself deeply moved even by the songs I don't directly relate to. I feel like she has this amazing ability to find the absolute truth in the specific. I've never had a summer romance with someone who already had a girlfriend and mostly wanted to go back to her, and yet the bridge of august feels so real to me, y'know?

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose

It's hard to explain but looking at this, like it's so much more than the story it's telling. It's talking about how when you're young you really need so little to feel satisfied; how sometimes the idea of someone maybe spending time with you is better than actually doing things with other people; and how if someone using you without much thought can make you feel like you're not even entitled to grieve what you lost. Sorry. I'll stop. Don't want to go insane.

So, all of this is very personal and unique to me, but I think really the main thing that draws me to her is how vulnerable and honest she is about emotions, how eloquently she can explain the pain of being alive to me. Some people think she isn't the strongest singer, but I think, much like John actually, one of her greatest assets is how good she is at projecting emotion. The song happiness is a song I think has some lyrically weak moments but her vocal performance on it is so raw and devastating that every single line works even when, looking at it on paper, it feels like it shouldn't.

Hope this rambling made sense to you, lmao?? I love talking about Taylor though so thanks for the ask! Also very open to giving song recs if you do want to check her out more but I won't unless solicited to lmao *Sort of off-topic but I do think there's a relation between my fascination with the Beatles' history and my love for a great break-up song. I like pain I guess :)