#rather than just a man like most would assume. It's not a super big deal though.

[naughtdeer]

I got called a strange, gay, little man last night because I arranged my battleships in a confusing way to my opponent, and if that isn't a compliment I don't know what is.

[mino491]

I genuinely belive that the writers this season just forgot everything about this show,,,

here are just the examples of things that were really confusing this season:

>Klaus either can't conjure ghosts anymore or for some messed up reason would rather have a ghost possess him and have sex with his (the ghost's) wife rather than the lesser of two evils which would've been to just conjure him and let them do whatever they wanted.

The ghosts clearly aren't Klaus's puppets and can do what they please while corporeal (like when Ben tackles Klaus in s2) so why didn't he just let the ghost get nasty instead of letting him possess him, something that he himself says is super violating WHEN TALKING ABOUT HIS BROTHER WHO HE MUST TRUST and not even considering some random man possessing him.

>Quinn somehow just knows that Klaus has powers, can talk to ghosts, AND can be possessed ???

>Quinn doesn't freak the fuck out when he sees Klaus just floating

>Klaus, within 6 years, starts using and doesn't stop for 3 years until he gets sober and just randomly becomes a germaphobe?

I totally understand him being afraid of death from the get-go but why does it take 3 years (i assume because he's been sober for that long) for him to really understand that he can die? Does that mean that he was just really suicidal for 3 years and didn't care if he died until he found Allison and Claire? The writers touch on this when Klaus talks about being someone Claire likes but that all goes to shit when he gets his powers back and takes a complete 180 back to his old life. I just wish so bad that they could've had more time this season to let the characters breathe and react rather than just doing stuff for the sake of the storyline. I, and many others, would've loved to see the aftermath of Klaus lecturing his siblings because we see a side of Klaus that I personally loved but felt like was out of place when we see him in later episodes.

>Luther's ape body comes back because of the Marigold even though it has nothing to do with his powers'

>Five suddenly doesn't care about his family, doesn't care what happens to them, and FALLS IN LOVE WITH HIS BROTHERS WIFE AKA HIS SISTER-IN-LAW AND KINDA SORTA ACTUAL SISTER

>RAY LEFT ALLISON???? AND SHES NOT GOING CRAZY??? they literally mischaracterized the most hated character in s3 so badly that she's one of the best (main) characters in s4.

>Lila is bored of her life even though all she's ever wanted was a family. AND she's acting like her parents being alive is no big deal?

>Lila's family just accept that she's their daughter.

This confused me so bad and as I'm writing this I'm getting more confused. So if Lila's family just accepted that she, a random 30 year old, was their child, does that mean that Marigold children (Umbrellas, Sparrows, etc) never existed in this version of 2019 or were they born and then killed or were they born without powers? All of those options have issues like a) if they never existed, why did Lila's family let her in, b) how did like all 43 kids just die all over the world without gaining any attention and how were they born in the first place and why would Lila's family take her in if they thought she died?, and c) they were born because Reg gave their Mums each a bit of Marigold so how were they born without the Marigold or with the Marigold but were powerless

I have so many more points so if anyone's interested let me know <3

[booperbeanv3]

What advice would you give someone who wants to write a June Egbert fic as someone who’s cis? Like writing wise

I'm assuming you mean character writing. It depends on what you're doing with her and how relevant you want to make her transness. Are you doing a coming-of-age type deal or a romance type or something where the trans thing is just happenstance?

You're gonna have to write her like John either way, so here's a quotes doc.

Personally I like to write John/June as a skeptic, sometimes downright sardonic, but ultimately still optimistic about most things. I like to lay the ignorance on thick, since compared to the other beta kids, he hasn't had to deal with a lot of complex problems until Sburb. So, he tends to let them fly over his head until he has no choice but to acknowledge them.

June-wise, I think she'd approach it similarly. If you want to do the whole egg-cracking hubbub, she seems like a repressor in the general sense. Not really overcompensating in either direction (like a macho man or femboy) but just ignoring it since it makes her more uncomfortable than she knows what to do with.

The scene where John realises Con Air actually sucks is probably the best scene to look at when it comes to writing big revelations. He realises how he's lost his childhood innocence by complaining about some movie. June would probably realise the trans thing not through a direct "I'm trans" epiphany but rather through a series of unrelated discoveries that hold the same weight to her as "I'm trans" does.

Does that make sense? I personally can't comment on the MtF experience since I'm... not, but that's pretty basic. Just look up accounts from trans women about it.

[kiliinstinct]

Of Rumors and Almond Tofu

Series: Genshin Impact Pairing: Aether/Xiao ( m/m )  Rating: T for Teen - slight spice at the end but its super minor Setting: Canon Setting - During Lantern Rite 2023 A03: [ link ] Connected to This Art: [ Tumblr Post ]

I said I was going to Post for Genshin and now I finally am! I have literally been on and off working on this one-shot since February. @genavere beta'd it for me. (Bless her confused soul, she's never played the game and had no idea what was going on.)

Enjoy! - fingers crossed tumblr doesn't make the text goofy

---

The multitude of colors and decorations that collectively dressed all of Liyue Harbor during the Lantern Rite never failed to fill Aether with a childish excitement that thrummed inside his chest. Even being his third year visiting for the Rite didn’t diminish the wonder he felt each time he took a glance at the MingXiao lanterns. 

Unfortunately, with circumstances as they were, the Traveler from another world found himself blind to the world around him—face buzzing in an embarrassed heat—distracted by his thoughts for most of the afternoon.  The Funeral Parlor was his destination, but heavy footsteps took him in the opposite direction. In his absentminded haze, he moved towards the fishmongers instead, struggling to process the morning’s events.  

He could hear Paimon titter behind him. Commenting on the details of the City decorations, waving towards the denizens who excitedly welcomed them back. Aether paid them no mind. Not deliberately, but the citizens of the harbor were used to Paimon speaking for him by now.

“Is he doing okay?” Aether vaguely recognized a voice that might have belonged to a Millellith guard as they passed. Rather than respond, he trusted Paimon to wave the man off, chirping her eager reply. “Oh, he’s fine!” 

His shoulders relaxed. Yes, he could leave it all to her while he mulled over his actions at Mt. Aocang. How could he have assumed his time at the Rite wouldn’t end in complications one way or another? 

His clung to him like a second skin, still damp from the cool waters of the morning. The face of disappointment Xiao had fixed upon him affixed itself in his mind like a blaring sign. How humiliating … Aether bit back a whine of shame. How was he going to face the Vigilant Yaksha again?

He briefly wondered if he could offer Paimon up as a sacrifice. A silly thought he knew wouldn’t pan out. Not only would Xiao refuse, but it would only serve to tease his floating companion. A terrible, vindictive part of his mind  thought the prank would do wonders for his mood. Was he feeling petty that Paimon’s dubious plan to feign drowning had turned out so horrible? Yes. Yes, he was, but he knew better than to place all blame on her small shoulders. 

After all, he could have said no. 

“It’s really not a big deal.” He heard Paimon speak to one of the kids who often played Pirates with her friends, and caught the tone of mischief too late to interrupt, “He’s just upset because his crush had to save him from drowning, that’s all!”

What.

Aether stopped mid-step. Finally registering just how far from their targeted destination they were. In the course of five seconds his heart sank to the pit of his stomach and bounced right back into the back of his throat, choking him of any and all words. 

“Oh, Mister Traveler has a special someone?" Little Lulu’s eyes glistened in wonder. "That’s so nice!” “Yup!” Paimon laughed, eyes twinkling, appearing unaware of the danger lurking behind her as Aether gawked, fingers twitching at his side. “But don’t go telling anyone else. He gets really embarrassed about it.”

He sprang into action, grasping the back of her clothes and yanked her back to his side. Mind working overtime to form the words that spilled from him too fast for his mind to keep up. “Paimon! What are you doing?”

If she was put out by suddenly losing her free flight, Paimon made no comment, opting to laugh behind her hand instead.  Her eyes glinted in amusement, “Just fielding questions. You weren’t responding to anyone so Paimon did it for you. Like the best traveling companion should, you know!” Aether couldn’t be bothered to respond, frantically looking back to Little Lulu, but it was too late. The girl had already run off to join the two boys she played with, shouting enthusiastically at them without a care in the world.  His earlier humiliation bloomed again and he noticed the surprised expressions of her friends as they glanced in his direction. He rounded on Paimon in consternation.   “Who else?” He demanded. Paimon had the audacity to look confused, “Hm?” “Who else,” he asked again, teeth gnashing together. Aether desperately wanted to stay calm, but was failing, “did you say that to?”

“... not that many.”

“How. Many?”

Rubbing her chin, Paimon hummed in thought, eyes glancing to the sky and all around them as if taking careful stock of every interaction she’d held within the past hour or so. “Including Little Lulu, just a couple more? Maybe three? I’m not sure, Traveler, you’ve been ignoring people quite a lot today.”

His expression was anything but amused. How distracted had he been? The morning was full of conversations, planning, and the gentle hope they could solve the mystery behind a mystical savior. Not only had they learned more about the old Adepti of the Past and the relations between them, he had also visited Madam Ping with Cloud Retainer, hoping to breach the subject of her music without touching on the old wounds of the past. All in all: he was exhausted and still had much to do before the concert that night. 

Ignoring the embarrassment of Xiao dragging his body out of a lake with Shenhe worriedly looming over the two of them, Aether felt the day had been full of social interactions. Could Paimon really blame him for being lost in thought?

Though, now that he had a better look of his surroundings, he couldn’t help feeling sheepish. “Zhongli has been waiting an awful while.”

“Oh, yeah. Paimon tried to get your attention about that, but you were so lost in thought that you paid no attention when Paimon tugged at you!” She circled his head, lips pursed in the tiniest of pouts, huffing. “If Paimon wasn’t so understanding, Paimon would demand you make it up with a grilled Tiger Fish!” Aether blinked, mystified. Was his thoughts on Quizhong’s life and Xiao’s expression of worry that distracting? Clearing his throat, he turned his back to the gentle, harbor waters, quietly hoping he could claim the heat of the sun was the culprit for his flustered face. “We should go then, before I make you into Tiger Fish, instead.”

“H-Hey! Why would you say that to Paimon?” “I can think of a few reasons,” He muttered, patting the top of her head, “Telling people I have a crush is certainly at the top of the list.” “Please- It’s not as if anyone is going to remember” She scoffed, dismissing him, “the Lantern Rite is tonight!”

Aether made a mental wish to the stars that Paimon was right.

She wasn’t. 

Not by a long shot. 

In fact, Paimon had been so wrong that by the very next day, with the sun barely rising and the lantern rite winding to a close, Aether thought he had misheard the local gossip. During the time he spent with Ningguang in the Jade Chamber, he was made all too aware of how fast rumors spread from the citizens of Liyue. Even Beidou’s warnings of the Qixing keeping watch on his comings and goings rang in the back of his mind like a siren. 

Despite this knowledge, he wasn’t prepared for the offhanded statements that followed his every move. They flew about him in all directions well into the afternoon. 

“That’s the traveler, isn’t it?”

“It is!”

“Didn’t you hear?”

“He almost drowned yesterday.” 

Aether never considered spending his attention on the background noise, all too accustomed to it after the last few years. He felt a stutter in his heart when that embarrassing reminder came back to snipe at him. 

So, they heard of his fake drowning attempt after all, albeit a little inaccurately.

“Doesn’t he know how to swim?”

“Of course he does, but things are strange at the Karst…”

“Is that why he was saved?” “By who?” “His lover!”

If he had been paying less attention, he would have toppled right off the pier and into the sea. Instead, he choked loudly on his own spit, face flaming a brilliant red as Paimon tittered around his head, fingers covering her mouth to hide her surprised squeal.

“Um, P-Paimon never said you had one of those!” She squeaked incredulously when Aether fixed her with his horrified gaze. “Wow, they really goofed it up, didn’t they?”

He couldn’t manage a reply. The words were gone, frozen in the back of his throat while fingers twitched and apprehension spread through all his nerves. Shut them out. It’ll blow over in a day or two. It had to. Right? Resisting the urge to throttle Paimon for the cough she faked to hide her laughter, he made a hasty retreat to Wanmin Restaurant for breakfast. 

An impossible task with whispered rumors and curious, mystified expressions following his every move. The rumors grew more exaggerated from person to person and Paimon failed to dissuade a few onlookers from spreading their overdramatized versions. 

It was too late. 

The world loved its gossip too much to be convinced of the misunderstanding. He could only quietly thank Chef Mao for allowing him to eat his breakfast in peace inside the kitchen, rather than stand among the crowd that couldn’t shut up about his non-existent love life. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from hearing tidbits each time a customer called upon the Chef for a tasty order..

Paimon had to choke back peels of laughter when they heard the list of ‘suspects.’ No one received a name, thankfully, but that left each new gossiper a question with no answers. 

Who was the traveler with? Ningguang? (“Can’t be, she wouldn’t be in Jueyan Karst during the Lantern Rite, would she?”) 

Perhaps the Yuheng, Keqing? (“She never left the harbor either!”)  

No, obviously Ganyu. (Aether hid his face in the palm of his hands at this one, quietly distressed.) Yes, Ganyu had become the popular choice among the many and Aether desperately hoped she’d be far too busy to catch wind of it. 

How could he explain this to her? Let alone anyone else? And keep Paimon from eating her foot any further than she already had while he was at it.

“Well, at least they were smart enough to realize Ganyu had been with us yesterday,” Paimon interjected between bites of her mostly finished breakfast. “Those other options were so far from the truth though. Talk about crazy. Paimon wonders what they’d do if they knew it was Shenhe and Xiao who-”

“Paimon.” His voice pierced through her rambling, far more intense than the roiling, desperate emotions simmering inside. The desperate stare he gave  his floating friend was enough to snap her mouth shut, effectively cutting her off..

“Sorry,” she amended, voice lowering a few notches as she floated beside him. “But, you have to admit, it’s crazy. They’re not even getting the gender right…”

Aether said nothing, letting his expression do the talking for him. 

He would thank his lucky stars that Chef Mao knew to be discreet, despite being a bystander to this conversation. When they left, the Chef sent them off with a cheery wave and a box full of jade parcels and lotus crisps to snack on. 

Paimon was ecstatic with the gift and Aether wouldn’t be surprised if they were all consumed before lunch.

Leaving the Harbor until the evening was the best way to save Aether from the crowd and it’s ever growing rumor mongering. By the time they’d escaped to Pervases’ temple, the gossip had grown so out of hand that Aether wasn’t sure what it would evolve to upon his return. Paimon continued to chitter her apologies, claiming time and time again that she never expected her jab towards his ‘crush’ to explode as it had. 

“It’s not even a crush,” he groused, setting incense at the temple while laying out a freshly grilled Tiger Fish in honor of the long-gone Yakshas. He treasured the peaceful quiet of the hall Wang Ping’an happily kept his distance, keeping watch at the door for more visitors. (Aether doubted more would come. The temple was always depressingly empty when he visited.) He ignored Paimon’s dramatic roll of her eyes and clasped his hands together in a customary prayer pose. 

Oh, whatever well wishes I give you now, Pervases, he thought dismally, please find a way to swallow Paimon up with me when these rumors take me out.

Paimon barely took the time to perform her own prayer, swirling about Aether’s head in agitation. “Oh sure, not a crush, you say, as if Paimon would believe that!”  

Tune her out, tune her out! 

“You were practically tripping over your feet when he pulled you out of the pond yesterday and don’t think Paimon didn’t notice you pouting when he left.”

It was getting harder to ignore her. 

“You looked like a kicked puppy who was denied a treat-”

“I did not!” 

Paimon’s expression was smug, staring at him through her lashes as she floated superiority over him. “And the blush on your cheeks is because…?”

His blasted body betrayed him by growing hotter at the question. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the Adepti monument, shoulders slack as he gave up. What use was there in lying to Paimon, anyway? She’d been by his side for so long, she was bound to pick up his tells. Almost as much as Lumine could rat him out…

Aether sighed, defeated. “It doesn’t matter, anyhow,” he muttered. “That’s a road better left empty.”

A crush? Certainly not. Whatever feelings he’d bottled up inside his heart for the last three years had grown far deeper than that. In the expanse of his own mind that twisted and turned around every possible mystery of Teyvat, all in his attempt to reunite with his sister, even Aether couldn’t lie to himself for too long. 

Xiao had certainly slotted into a place in Aether’s heart that he never knew existed. And in time, he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there. A strange relationship that teetered back and forth along a thin wire. There was a tension between him and the Conqueror of Demons. A tension Aether couldn’t put a name to. Whether he fell or not, there was no knowing what falling off that wire would do to him.

In fact, he was determined not to find out. 

“Is it because you don’t think he feels the same?” Paimon cut through his reverie, slowly drifting to his side rather than staring down her nose at him. “Because Paimon thinks he looked really worried and upset yesterday so maybe he -”

“Paimon.” Aether’s stare was pleading. “Please, stop.”

“Oh- ok.” Her voice dropped to a tiny, disappointed whine. “Sorry.”

He knew she meant well. In fact, the thought of him holding feelings for another must have sparked an idea into her  head well over a year ago. What reason would he have to leave Teyvat in the end, if he fell into a relationship, after all? She must have taken his broiling emotions as a sign of weakness. A sign he could be persuaded to stay, but it was better not to hold onto false hope. 

That’s what he told himself.

Besides… muttering a final prayer to Pervases, Aether turned to leave, content to enjoy the outdoors until dinner with Hu Tao. He wasn’t certain how many the Director had invited, but the prospect of seeing old friends at a - hopefully - peaceful supper, helped ease his worries.

  It wasn’t as if Xiao would try and keep him here. The Yaksha had his own duty and that didn’t include convincing otherworldly beings into staying once their own was completed.  

That thought was enough to sober Aether from the many rumors of the Harbor.  He took in the air, smelling the sweat flowers and mints in the area as they soothed his aching heart. 

This world was beautiful. He would never stop thinking that. Even when it was nothing more than a memory.  With that thought in mind, Aether was positive he could tour the harbor once more, enjoying its festivities no matter what rumor trailed behind him.

A lover? Pfft, let them talk. Let them wonder. He knew the truth of it and that’s all that mattered. Even if the truth sank into the pit of Aether’s stomach like a pile of cor lapis. 

Aether would begin questioning all his decisions the moment he set foot in Xinyue Kiosk for Hu Tao’s big dinner plans.. 

Meeting all his friends in one place for a free dinner was more than enough to bring Aether joy and Paimon’s own squeal of delight. To sit alongside Xiangling, Chongyun and Xingqiu brought a light feeling to his chest and the sight of Hu Tao and Zhongli strengthened it. While they had seen the latter two only a day before, the prospect of a friendly dinner was enough to ease most of his worries. 

It didn’t matter what rumors still spread through the harbor. Earlier, he overheard a couple mention him ‘slipping’ into the water with his supposed ‘lover’ for a moment of intimacy. A mental image that made his face grow redder than the tomatoes sold nearby. 

How much crazier were these rumors going to grow before the townsfolk became bored?

Aether’s friends, young and old, seemed none the wiser, or at the very least, saw fit not to bring it up over dinner.  A fact Aether would forever be grateful for. At least, that’s how it should have gone, but the appearance of Xiao sent Aether’s mind into overdrive. Hu Tao’s mysteriously proud grin was the precursor to a meal he never expected. After refusing to enter the Harbor the previous Lantern Rites, seeing him a day after the traveler’s poorly executed ‘drowning’ attempt, set his heart thudding against his ribcage.  Not only was the Yaksha willingly in the harbor during Festival Season, but he’d been ushered to sit beside the other as if that had been the plan all along. 

The assumption wasn’t too far off. If Hu Tao’s knowing smirk was anything to go off of.

He felt his body turn to stone, heat rising along his neck at the proximity between them and he desperately hoped that Xiao’s penchant to ignore mortal matters would keep him far away from those embarrassing rumors. The adeptus always had a strong presence, not just from his inhuman energy, his intense gaze and stance always drew Aether’s attention. Now, however, it was difficult to keep himself from watching Xiao through his peripheral vision. The strong want to study his profile left Aether struggling to swallow, forcing his gaze ahead of him to keep his calm facade. “... is this, okay?” He was surprised, stunned out of his thoughts when Xiao’s pointed question struck him down with the faintest hint of insecurity. His confusion must have been obvious as Xiao, eyes averting back to the table, made a grumble of frustration toward repeating himself. “You are tense. I wondered if my presence was bothering you.”

Oh. 

“No-!” Aether snapped, voice far louder than he intended.  Gulping down as much water as he could manage, he ignored the raised brows of his peers and shook his head enough to feel dizzy. “It’s not that. I’m actually really-” Really what? Pleased? Excited? Flustered over nothing? Aether looked to Paimon for help as the words became sludge in his mouth. Her answering grin was sinister and he knew he made another mistake. 

“The traveler is actually really happy you’re here, Xiao!”  She hid her mischief behind her hand and giggled, “It’s almost like one of his wishes had been granted-”

Oh, if he wasn’t going to turn her into food yesterday, he certainly was now.  The glare he shot her was seen around the table, and he could feel the knowing, if perplexed expressions of the others who witnessed the scene. Zhongli, ever the silent observer, sipped his tea and turned his golden gaze towards Xiao instead, but Aether noticed the slight curve of the former Archon’s lips; and felt his lungs constrict further. Oh stars above, he knows.  Maybe he should have skipped out on today's dinner and called it an early night. Maybe he should have taken on an extra commission or a-

Xiao’s pointed stare froze him. The golden glow of the Yaksha’s eyes filled his shoes with cement before the gaze turned towards Paimon, and gave the briefest nods in acknowledgement to her. 

If Aether hadn’t been lost in his horror, he might have noticed the slightest hint of red dusting the tip of Xiao’s ears, but he couldn’t attend to that. Instead, he swallowed thickly, watching as Xiao considered his companions' words and resumed his stare at the table. “Hmm,” The non-committal grunt said so much and so little at once. It made him want to scream. “I see.”

The awkward tension in the room shattered like glass and chatter erupted around the table once more. Aether spared Paimon of a rueful glare in lieu of sighing in relief. It was easier to fall silent and listen, all while buzzing from the very presence of Xiao by his side. Talking was difficult and observing the other’s conversation removed all pressure from his soul. The respite was welcomed. Though it did not last long as chaos incarnate, the winds of Barbatos himself, saw fit to crash the party. If Aether had known he’d be in the presence of not one, but two Archons that evening, he would have mentally prepared himself better. 

Venti was a whirlwind of trickery and slid himself into the gathering with ease, as if he’d always been there. Upon his windy entrance, blowing open the doors with a giggle, the sudden tick at Zhongli’s jaw spoke of a quiet irritation. Hu Tao’s sudden interest in the new arrival gave Aether the strange feeling that the funeral parlor’s director was all too aware of the true identities of the feigning mortals at the table. A matter Aether tucked away to explore later. Much later. When there wasn’t the Lord of Anemo and Geo vying for most passive aggressive compliments the world of Teyvat had ever seen flying over his head. If Aether hadn’t known any better, he would have sworn Venti and Zhongli were divorced lovers. 

The mere thought made him cough back an amused snort that was waved away when Paimon sent him a questioning glance. The ‘I’ll tell you later’ went without saying. He’d rather enjoy the chaotic chatter while it lasted, enjoying his meal and observing the others around him. If his eyes happened to stray one too many times towards Xiao, he pretended not to notice. 

“Uhh-“ Though, noticing the stiff poise of the Yaksha beside him, perhaps it was a good thing he kept his attention on him. Xiao kept his hands under the table, fingers fidgeting at each new barb the Archons threw across the table. Each lie to cover up their identity made his body tense, as if becoming petrified wood would save him from the conversation. 

“I- uhh..” Xiao struggled to interrupt the onslaught of passive aggression, shoulders tensing by the second.

Aether frowned, and realized Xiao was not enjoying this. Brows furrowed together before he made a decision. It wouldn’t do to chase Xiao off from functions like this in the future. Anything to help the Yaksha relax and settle into the banter. 

With a careful glide of his hand beneath the table, he grasped Xiao’s twitching fingers with his own. The speed in which Xiao’s eyes flickered to him made the Traveler wonder if he’d made a mistake, an apology already formed upon his lips. 

But Xiao didn’t withdraw. Citrine eyes stared intently for a moment, as if looking for Aether’s inner thoughts. Coming up with nothing, he glanced to their adjoined hands before giving Aether’s an experimental squeeze, fingers sliding between his own. Aether had to bite back the surprised exhale that ran through him.

‘Are you okay?’ He wanted to ask, but that would garner everyone’s attention, breaking the spell weaved between them. Instead, Aether smiled and resumed eating. Almost like a child, Xiao’s grip tightened, ignoring the meal in favor of watching the others.

Like Aether, Xiao observed, but unfortunately, Aether’s actions were nothing more than a bandage for an issue far deeper than nerves. Venti and Zhongli were still in the limelight, spreading their flowery language from person to person. Even Hu Tao joined in, eyes glittering in mischief.

“Ah such lovely compliments my guests have for each other on this fine day.” The director curled her lips as she eyed everyone over the rim of her glass. “It’s so nice to see everyone getting along.”

Something in her tone spoke a different language to Aether. A niggling instinct that pricked the back of his neck, whispering tiny assumptions about Hu Tao. There was always something about her and the way she looked around the room that hinted to a knowledge vastly greater than she let on. Alarm bells rang as he witnessed her excited eyes glance from Zhongli to Venti, enjoying their banter like an afternoon play. It was a wild thought, Aether realized, but maybe the only ones unaware of the Archon’s identities were the other three guests, watching the spectacle in stunned silence. 

Paimon’s excited squeal and Xiao’s grip becoming tighter yanked Aether from his reverie. His flying companion had received seconds in the form of Xiao nudging his plate to the side and spared no second to curb her enthusiasm. The interruption gave way to more chatter along the table, pulling the attention off the archons for a short period.

“While I’m not partial to it, one could almost feel elated enough to have a glass of wine,” Zhongli said, taking it as a chance to once more explain how he was truly the one honored by everyone’s presence that day.

Venti jumped upon the self-indulgence without a second thought. Sitting straighter in her seat to hold his cup in the air, ignoring how tea splashed from the cup. “This MUST be a great occasion, indeed, for one as esteemed as yourself, huh?”

Aether held back the urge to roll his eyes. Paimon didn’t.  

He registered a shift in the man next to him. The tension was back and the Yaksha’s grip was crushing. Xiao had reached his limit. 

“I- I uh, I think-" It felt wrong, Aether decided, watching as Xiao struggled to put words into sentences. Words were difficult. He understood on a deeper level than most, but this was new territory. Attempting diplomacy when forthright honesty was more his style. Before Xiao could finally put his thoughts into verbal communication, Aether struck.

“Wow, I have eaten WAY too much,” he chirped, glancing at Paimon as he made a show of patting his stomach. The action released his hand from Xiao’s, causing the Yaksha’s eyes to widen and arm jerk from the motion. Ignoring Paimon’s confused hum, mouth still full of fish, he turned back to Xiao, “I think I need fresh air. Come with me?”

If anyone needed it. It was Xiao. Who eagerly accepted the out, eyes worriedly searching Aether for any further sign of discomfort. Convincing Paimon to stay behind was a harder task. Her shock and betrayal garnered everyone's attention, making his face grow heated.  He couldn’t blame her. After what happened in Sumeru, how could he? The Sabzeruz Festival was not so easily forgotten. Not half as easy as what was erased from Irminsul at least.

With a few well thought out words, and some added help from the others, she relented with a threat to eat his food along with her own if he took too long. He smiled fondly at her, patting her head as he left the table. A lost meal was a consequence he was willing to take.

Now that the opportunity was made available, Xiao was too oblivious to his ruse. The Yaksha stood by the double doors, arms crossed and shoulders so tense, Aether feared he’d turn to stone. His fingers tapped against his vision as barely contained impatience brimmed in the bright gleam of his eyes. He all but ran out the door the moment Aether swung it open, reveling in the fresh air and sunlight that greeted them.

“Are you all right?” Xiao demanded as soon as he was paced away from the building, posture far more relaxed now that they were free of everyone's gazes. “I should be the one asking that,” Aether replied, an eyebrow raised in concern. Somehow, words were easier when it was just the two of them. Simple. Upfront. 

Xiao’s eyes couldn’t stay focused, glancing from Aether’s face, before they swept around the street, eyeing every passerby as if a demon hid amongst them. When he deemed their location private enough, Aether witnessed the tension slowly bleed away as the seconds passed. Not to the extent the Traveler would have preferred, but it was something. He sighed in relief and was content to wait as Xiao answered, opening a line of conversation that was more relaxing than the cacophony inside. 

When it came to conversation. Xiao was often short lipped, but time after the Chasm incident must have changed him. With his willingness to speak of matters of the past and his own discomfort, it was clear their previous meetings had opened Xiao’s heart more than anticipated. A welcome surprise that created a gentle smile to cross his face. 

Unfortunately, relishing in the light conversation Xiao provided was not an easy task when beside one of the busiest roads in Liyue Harbor.

“Who's that with the Traveler right now?”

“That can’t be the one, can it?”

Aether cursed as a couple passing by whispered far too loud to keep their conversations secret and a mortified heat began to creep along the back of his neck. Oh no. No. No. No. Not now.

He trailed off lamely, distracted from their conversation. He assumed Xiao would notice and think something was wrong, possibly assume the worst, but curiously, the adeptus tilted his head, eyes gleaming in confusion. Something had caught his attention. Enough for his eyes to rove over the crowd on the streets before fixating back on what was now a very disgruntled traveler. 

“... What is- “ Xiao tested the words on his tongue as if his question was foreign to him. “Traveler, what is dating?”

At that moment, Aether wished he could curse in all the languages he’d heard in his travels, but he didn’t have the time to recall them all. Or the energy to speak them. What had Xiao heard to ask that? Aether worked through the palpitations of his own heart to consider the question, mouth running dry as the words jammed in his throat. 

“Why-?” 

No, dumb question. Xiao didn’t ask about human customs much, questioning it now may cause him to withdraw entirely. Aether didn’t want that, did he? “You don’t-,” a moment of insanity passed through him as he wished Paimon had followed along after all. She could handle this question better than him, right? 

Then again, catching the stares of a Millellith soldier across the road made him grimace. Never mind. Paimon would definitely have made everything worse. “You haven’t heard the term before?”

That.. was a safe response. 

He hoped. 

Xiao considered the question, nose scrunching in a way that made Aether’s heart twist. The curiosity the Adeptus held for humans despite his claims otherwise endeared Aether to him each time he was blessed to witness it. Despite the embarrassing context of the question, he clung to the visual to hold in his memories for later. Just as he had with all previous interactions he had in the past. 

“Mortals talk incessantly,” Xiao said after a few beats of silence. “Perhaps I have heard it before, but I never bothered to pay it any mind. The customs of mortals are… odd… to me.”

Somehow, that answer was very… Xiao.

Aether grinned, “Have you heard of courting then? Suitors?” What other words could he think of that may ring a bell… Aether was about to explain in further detail when recollection lit up in Xiao's eyes.

“How uninformed do you think I am?” He snapped, clicking his tongue derisively. 

Once upon a time, Aether would have suspected annoyance, but the hint of red he spied at the tip of Xiao’s ears spoke more to the truth than any words the Yaksha could say. 

“A mortal passtime to find a lover and pass on their legacy through their progeny. Of course, I know what that is-" He paused blinking. “Ah, so that is dating.”

“Words change over time,” Aether stated, still amused by his obvious discomfort.

“Ridiculous.” The retort came swift like a gust of wind before Xiao’s attention pulled back to the crowds behind them. His silence became a palpable curiosity that filtered through in muted measures. Aether wondered what was going through his mind in that moment, but chose not to ask. Whatever it was, Xiao would ask if he wanted. Something spurred the Yaksha to grumble, words muttering under his breath that Aether couldn’t catch. Watching him through his lashes, Xiao frowned, a strange irritation filling him. “So, then you -" 

After a few seconds of no follow up, Aether broke his silence. “So, I…what?”

Xiao shook his head. “Nothing. Just forget it.”

Silence befell them. When Aether realized Xiao wasn’t going to continue, he cleared his throat, thinking back on their earlier conversation. Steering the topic back a few paces would be ideal and the more he looked down the street, witnessing the onlookers slowly grow in number, the more Aether regretted his decision to escape the others in the first place. 

But something was bothering Xiao now, he could tell. Xiao’s gaze flickered from the street and back to him, brows furled together in thoughts that he refused to verbalize. Had he heard something else? The Traveler couldn’t be sure, but just when he had a mind to ask, the door to the kiosk swung open and both their gazes met Xiangling’s as she approached, lips bitten insecurely.. “Sorry!” She said swiftly, her smile felt out of place, far too timid for the cook’s usual expressions. “Am I interrupting anything?” “Not at all,” Aether answered in reflex, barely catching the quiet ‘tsk’ that escaped Xiao. This was the perfect change of topic. Already the tension from before bled away as if it never existed. “Were we taking too long?”

And off the conversation went with Xiangling beckoning the two back inside. Though, Aether made sure Xiao gave his due thanks for Xiangling’s efforts in bringing him an almond tofu, and winced when Paimon’s despondent waiting was brought up. As irritated as he was over the whole rumor debacle, he truly hadn’t meant to leave her alone for so long. Not since the Sabzeruz. He still remembered her terror at being left behind. It was a horror he felt in his bones and understood all too well.

Perhaps now was the best time to end their conversation, either way. They’d been invited to dinner. It wouldn't do to avoid the whole thing now, would it? Aether was certain Xiao would fare better a second time around and with the night still young, he wanted to bask in the social atmosphere a little longer before finally considering the years Lantern Rite officially over. 

When all was said and done, Aether could honestly say he never expected Xiao to invite him back to visit at Wangshuu Inn. “If you have need of me, call my name, but-…come to the inn, if you’d like to talk more.”

Somehow, it truly felt as if Xiao had changed. The events in the Chasm had opened the Adeptus in ways Aether could only dream to witness. Not obviously to most people, but just enough for Aether to feel as if he’d stepped through many doors that had been locked tight before. 

“Maybe those rumors will get it right now.” Paimon huffed that evening, stuffed full from the dinner and finally alone with Aether once again. “You two stayed out and away from Paimon for so long, everyone should have a good guess at this rate.” Aether cleared his throat, facing Paimon with a deadpan stare. “You get a pass. Just this once.”

Eyes lighting up in mischief, Paimon giggled, ecstatic, “Really? What’s the occasion?”

“It’s my apology for making you wait so long.” He ruffled her hair as he teased her. “I couldn’t believe it when Xiangling said you’d hardly touched your food. Maybe you’re sick? Is something wrong with my emergency food?”

“Oooh! Paimon’s had it to here with you! Paimon deserves more than one pass for that, mister!”

He laughed. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could put the gossip behind him. They were bound to die out the further from the festival it became after all, and he didn’t have the energy to stress over it further.

With the sun fading below the horizon, Aether decided that after all was said and done, it was an almost perfect night. This world may not be his, but in that moment, he felt just a little bit closer to home. 

Xiao’s offer wouldn’t be taken for another two days when Aether found himself in the area, exhausted from a day of commissions and curiosity burning in his veins. Would Xiao be there waiting? Or would he come to chat if called? It was enough for him to decide to stay for the night before making his way back to Sumeru. There was some time yet before he would travel to the region Fontaine, so there was no reason he couldn’t make a few more detours, right? 

“Three Hundred… Four Hundred… Five- “ Counting his recent payments, Aether’s eyes lit up, “Five hundred mora! Add that to the rest of our funds and we should have more than enough to stay at the inn. No camping tonight!”

“Didn’t we already have enough before you were paid? You’re practically a workaholic, you know,” Paimon said.

He shrugged, smiling unapologetically, “And I never hear you complain each time another bag of mora comes our way, do I?”

Paimon didn’t bother denying it and pouted instead. Their back and forth would continue all the way to the Inn, with Aether falling silent partially through their conversation, settling into their usual pattern.. If he were honest with himself, the Lantern Rite had burned his ability to socialize to an almost non-existent flame, and he relished Paimon filling the air with her chatter. On days like this, he could forgive her of the embarrassment days prior. 

After all, rumors from Liyue Harbor wouldn’t spread this far out into the Dihua Marshes. Of that, he was as certain as he was of the sun rising each morning. 

Skipping the elevator of the Inn, Aether prolonged Paimon’s prattling by climbing the stairs; enjoying the wind as it whistled through his braid, the view as the sun gleamed across sparkling waters, and the sounds of chatter from the many guests chattering throughout. Second to Mondstadt only, the locals of Wangshuu Inn never failed to fill Aether with a calm peace. 

It was a source of security, anchored down by the presence sheltered at the rooftop. A fact Aether refused to admit outloud, and certainly not in front of Paimon. 

Lantern Rite had been good to the Inn. Approaching the main Lobby, they spied Verr Goldett surrounded by a line of customers. Catching the gleam of Aether’s golden hair and Paimon’s crown, she waved pleasantly to them; her smile crinkled the edge of her eyes before she turned her attention back to her waiting guests.  There would be no conversation just yet, but that was okay. Aether wasn’t worried about finding a place to sleep. The Boss Lady of Wangshuu Inn always had a room available to him when asked.  It was a mystery he never quite understood how she managed to do it. “Okay!” Paimon’s voice shrieked closer to Aether’s ear than intended, pulling him from the unsolved riddles of the inn.. He flinched, ears ringing, but Paimon paid that no mind. Sadly, he knew it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last. “Paimon is going to see Yanxiao for some food, you go on without me.”

Aether blinked, one foot on the stairs to the upper balcony and the other grounded in place. Raising one brow, he observed his Fairy companion silently, uncertain of her motive. Hadn’t she been angry at him for leaving her behind just a day ago? 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at Paimon like that. You wanted more time to talk to Xiao, right? Paimon will join you later.”

Something about her tone raised alarm bells in his mind, but he couldn’t put words to it before she held out her tiny hand, expectant.

“But-”

“Bag please!” Her smile was devious. “Paimon has to pay for our meals somehow and you keep all the mora on you.”

“Is this your way of sneaking yourself an extra helping without supervision?” Regardless, the small bag he’d saved from the day was snatched from him as soon as it was offered.

“Paimon will make sure there’s still enough for a room, don’t worry.”

Aether couldn’t resist. “Too late.”

“Oooh,” she seethed, opalescent eyes sparked in anger. “Go up and see your Adeptus boyfriend already!”

With her loud exclamation, Paimon shot her way to the kitchens, leaving Aether flustered and frozen in place as every eye in the lobby turned towards him. 

Oh no. Not again! Paimon, I swear to all Archons who hear me and beyond, I am going to EAT you one day!

Noticing the all-knowing eyes of Verr Goldett on him, Aether attempted to wave off the eyes with a sheepish smile. Already he could hear the quiet murmurs spreading through the crowd.The Boss Lady of Wangshu Inn understood his quiet plea, lips curving in comradery.

“Come now, who's next? My husband won't be back for a few more minutes, so allow me to assist you.”  Beckoning for the line to move on, her voice rose above the chatter, calling attention towards herself as she laughed. “As if an Adeptus would be at my inn of all places. Could you imagine?”

And that was enough to break through what Aether could see as an all-new rumor spreading. Verr Goldett was true to her job, keeping the mystery of the rooftop—and who lived upon it, as secret as the day she’d met Aether. The ‘gentleman’ of the balcony would not be named and she made sure all visitors knew better than to ask. Feeling ashamed of their eavesdropping, the nearby guests cleared their throats and looked away, keeping their chatter to themselves. Relieved, Aether mouthed a tiny ‘thank you’ from the stairs and resumed his trip up, two steps at a time. He didn’t miss the glitter in her eye. No doubt, she’d expect a return favor in the future.  That was a problem for the future, he decided, and quietly he vowed to make Paimon help when the time came. 

The highest balcony of the inn never failed to leave Aether breathless. The view of the marsh and distant mountains gleamed with the waning sunlight with stars already beginning to sparkle above. The skyline of the towering peaks of Jueyan Karst and the lonely mountain, Dragonspine, framed the view from left to right. Ginko leaves scattered about the wooden deck, flowing with the wind around the lone figure watching the land below him. Aether gawked, stunned by the silhouette, illuminating Xiao’s outline, as flecks of teal reflected the light in his hair. 

For the first time in months, Xiao had waited for him. Aether’s mouth became dry as he struggled to greet the other, but there was no need. Even with his back turned, Xiao knew who had come to join him.

“So,” he began, head barely tilting to acknowledge the other, “you came afterall.” 

Words tumbled off Aether’s tongue in a rush, “Didn’t you invite me?”

Xiao hummed in confirmation, gaze still piercing the clouds above them, watching as another star began to shine. Aether took the opening for what it was and crossed the deck to stand by Xiao’s side. His own gaze struggled to choose between watching the scenery or admit the profile of his companion. 

“Then, why wouldn’t I come?” he asked when the wind ceased and the rustling of the tree above them came to a halt. Xiao answering blink gave Aether all he needed to know, cracking a grin as the Adeptus slowly accepted his reply. “You come when I call, don’t you?”

“That’s-!” Xiao paused, catching himself before his tone resumed its careful, quiet timbre. “That’s different. I promised to protect you.”

His smile grew. “And we agreed that it was time to let friends take care of their friends.” He chuckled as Xiao broke his gaze to stare towards the trees, the hint of an ear tip dusted in pink peeked from behind his hair.  “What sort of friend would I be if I ignored your invitation?”

“I-” He cut himself off.

“Yes…?”

Xiao sighed, the barest hint of a smile curving at the edges. “I still don’t understand you.”

Mirroring him, Aether leaned against the railing, enjoying the gentle breeze that weaved through his braid. “Then I’ll just have to keep visiting until you do.”

It was easy to talk or fall into companionable silence, after that, something Aether always appreciated. Words weren’t easy, especially in Teyvat. The language had proven difficult and confusing when he’d first began his journey. Xiao’s ability to listen and enjoy the moment without words was a small reprieve. Once upon a time, Aether knew the Adeptus would have disagreed with the sentiment, but he wasn’t so good at hiding his true emotions anymore. That or Aether had learned to read him easier. The slight hint of a smile, the soft tone of his voice as he wistfully encouraged him to speak or be silent. It was a small comfort. One Aether relished. He could only hope Paimon would stay in the kitchens, bothering the cook for all the food she could muster. Perhaps, she’d eat until she was too tired to join them, dozing blissfully in a corner by the innkeepers. 

Just the thought made Aether giggle, catching Xiao’s attention and breaking the silence between them. He recalled a time when the Adeptus admitted to wanting to know all of Aether’s experiences in an attempt to learn and understand more about himself and mortals. This thought could be added to countless others as their conversations often began anew and moved on to so many topics he could hardly remember them all. But just when he was about to settle in to speak of his recent adventures in Sumeru, Aether finally noticed the small two-tiered box to the side, sitting beside one of the potted plants. “What's that?” He interrupted his own thoughts, head tilting to point out the curiosity. Xiao didn’t bother to look, already aware of what was around them. “Almond tofu,” he said, voice monotone as he raised a brow. Aether considered this and scrunched his nose. “That’s like.. Two servings more than you usually eat.” He pointed out. Xiao hummed noncommittally. “I .. still hadn’t finished what Xiangling made for me,” he admitted, glancing to his feet in a way that brought to mind a guilty child. “But then Yanxiao made my usual amount and I… I couldn’t eat it.”

The mention of the chef made it all clear. Of course. Yanxiao wouldn’t have known that a different cook all the way from the harbor had made the Adeptus an offering. Following routine explained the extra portions and the traveler made a decision. Breaking away from Xiao’s presence, he brought the tiered box to him. “Well, it’s only going to go bad if you keep leaving it out here so-”

“You should have some too.”

Aether froze. “What?”

There was a careful expression on Xiao’s face. Jaw tense, head tilted just enough to keep the shine of his citrine eyes from revealing any thoughts in his mind. If it were any other person, Aether would have sworn they were nervous, but Xiao.. nervous?

“You don’t have to,” he said a beat later. “I just…Thought we could share. You can tell me more of your travels. I’ll listen.”

Nothing else needed to be said. It was an offer that Aether was more than happy to take. 

Opening the tiers, he found spare chopsticks inside—silently noting the extra pair, but spared Xiao the embarrassment of being called out, and pulled them out. Handing one tier to Xiao, Aether sat his own share against the bannister and hummed pleasantly when he popped a piece of the textured pudding into his mouth. Sweet, but not overly so- with a sticky syrup that clung to his tongue. …with a…bit of spice? “Xiangling made this one, didn’t she?”

Xiao nodded, absentmindedly eating his own. “I didn’t dislike it. But it is different.”

“Not bad.” Aether agreed, but mischief seized him a second later as he added, “I like the one you make best though.”

Xiao uncharacteristically choked, grunting as he looked away again. He was doing that a lot lately, Aether noted. And he thought he caught the phrase ‘yours is better’ pass the Adepti’s lips, but couldn’t be sure. Laughing at his successful mission to fluster the mighty Yaksha of Dihua Marsh, he popped another piece into his mouth. 

“You grow less timid each time we meet,” Xiao stated, keeping a careful gaze on Aether as they enjoyed the dessert together. “Do you speak to your lover like this, as well?”

And just like that, Aether felt the entire world drop out from under him. His own bite of almond tofu lodged itself in his throat as his heart threatened to burst from his chest and attempt to fly off to worlds unknown. Coughing, he thumped his chest a few times to calibrate himself, not noticing when Xiao stepped closer, setting his own plate aside in concern. “Lover?” He gasped through another bout of coughing, eyes wildly searching Xiao’s for an explanation. “When have I ever- what…why would I-”

Somehow, Aether just knew, this was all Paimon’s fault.

“Traveler, are you-” With a hand raised, intent to possibly slap Aether’s back to help stave off his choking, Xiao reconsidered the action and watched the coughing subsided, his brows knitted together, perplexed. “Did I hear wrong, then?”

“Hear what?” Aether pressed, covering his face to hide the assured blush splashing across his cheeks and burning down his neck. He couldn’t face Xiao, not like this. Shame filled him. So smooth a second ago, only to have it torn from him by an almond tofu assassination attempt. “Please. Explain.”

“It…” Xiao paused, considering his next words, eyes whirling in quiet anticipation. “At the harbor. I heard… many things. The people there are convinced you have a lover. Are they mistaken?”

“Yes!” The embarrassed groan that escaped Aether could be heard across the marsh, hand smacking into the almond tofu, knocking it from the railing as it clattered to the balcony below. He’d have to apologize to Goldett later. “So…you...you heard all that?”

Xiao blinked, head tilting in a curious way that Aether had to ignore lest he be distracted by the cute action. “They were very loud about it. Did you not?”

Aether nodded, too flustered to voice the words in that moment. Of course he had. He’d hoped a silly Adeptus wouldn’t pay it any mind! “Ugh, I did, but- it was Paimon’s fault. She said something and rumors began to spread and I just-”

“Ah.” Realization gave Xiao pause as Aether trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Anxiety gripped him, uncertainty filled his lungs and he felt, in that moment, that he needed to leave. To hide. Camp outside. Anything other than feel Xiao’s gaze as he processed this development. 

But he couldn’t. Not now. Not like this. Not while Xiao stared at him with a molten gaze that glued his feet to the deck. 

The tension in Xiao’s brow relaxed by the second as a sudden curiosity gripped him. His own plate was set aside, much more elegantly than Aether’s and he approached the traveler with a caution befitting an animal observing its surroundings. Once within the other's proximity, Aether’s mind shut down when Xiao’s gloved hand gripped his own, tugging it gently from his face. 

“If I’m not mistaken,” he began, voice low and considering, “while often false, rumors also grow through seeds of truth.”

Jaw slack, Aether gaped, the words whirling through his mind struck greater than a hurricane, but not a sound escaped. Nodding vaguely, he nervously gazed from Xiao to the potted plant behind him, examining the giant green leaves and the intricate designs along its holder. 

“Then…did you…” Conflict flickered in Xiao’s eyes and Aether noticed the signs before the Yaksha would often deny his own questions and leave. Despite the fast rate of his heart and mental shrieking, Aether felt the panic rise in his throat, the impending urge to ask him to stay boiling on the tip of his tongue. The flicker of doubt passed and Xiao pressed on, unaware of how it continued to rob Aether of his voice, “Feign drowning again, despite my reprimand?”

A second passed. Then another. Aether blinked in time with his own heart, puzzled. “Why would I have—I didn’t.” Had he missed a step somewhere? Xiao’s train of thought was moving quicker than his own, unable to focus. “Why-”

“If you hadn’t, Traveler,” Xiao continued, voice darkening with an edge Aether only heard when he was serious. “Then one could only assume the so-called lover that saved you was not, in fact, a mystery person, but myself. Correct?”

Aether’s mouth went completely dry and what blush he had quickly faded as the blood rushed from his face. He felt a chill down his spine, crawling along his arms down to the very tips of his gloved fingers. Another nod and he felt foolish. Why wouldn’t the words come, now when he needed them?

And why was his hand still firmly grasped by Xiao’s? He couldn’t think straight. And the intensity of Xiao’s narrowed eyes, glowing from the low-light of the sunset, made his skin crawl in ways he couldn’t begin to explain. 

“What is the truth?” Xiao spoke again, pulling Aether from his derailed and panicked thoughts with a gentle squeeze of his hand to ground him. “What did Paimon say to cause such bold claims?”

The dam in Aether’s lungs burst and before he could control himself, he answered. “I-I know it’s ridiculous to consider us together like that, but don’t be too angry with Paimon. She’s just full of mischief.” 

His eyes stung, but he blinked it away, pressing on in hopes to ease whatever wrinkles Xiao foresaw. “It was my fault anyway, I was so ashamed from worrying you that I left her to talk to everyone for me and she told only a few people that my crush had-”

He paused, eyes widening as he looked to Xiao, whose expression turned blank through his ramble. Aether couldn’t read it. Not this time. Wait, did Xiao understand what a crush was? “I’m sorry, I’m not making much sense-”

“You’re right. The thought of us together in a romantic capacity is ridiculous.” His voice was sharp, measured, but Aether felt as if acid had been flung at his face. He winced as Xiao’s grip tightened. “What an unnecessary passtime, spreading falsities over mere hearsay.”

Everything shattered. Aether’s bones. His very heart. He felt it cracking into millions of pieces. It wasn’t difficult to damage an already broken heart, desperately searching for the one person who could patch it back together again. Lumine’s absence always felt like knives when he stopped to think, to consider the implications throughout his journey and now… his throat felt swollen, robbed of breath: broken all over again. Xiao was always harsh when he wanted to be. His words sharper than daggers when he made a point. 

Don’t cry, Aether. Not here. Not now. He smiled a watery, broken grin, eyes blinking repetitively as his arm hung limply between them. Calm down. Don’t act as if you’ve been rejected when you weren’t even going to ask-

There was no masking Aether’s reaction. No time. His emotions were out on his sleeve, dangerously hanging over the edge. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d allowed himself to be so close to others until this world, and now every reason he and Lumine agreed not to in their younger days came spiraling back to the surface, screaming ‘I told you so’ repetitively in his mind. “Hah, y-yeah…Well, it’s just how we are.”

His voice was hollow, hoarse even, struggling to mask the tumultuous tsunami encompassing his entire being. Inside, he was tumbling down and further down, but his body didn’t move. Neither did his hand. Xiao’s grip was still strong. 

Xiao’s grip… Aether focused on it, blankly recognizing that despite the Yaksha’s words, his actions spoke differently. No longer meeting Aether’s eyes, his attention grew fixated on the bits of syrup clinging to his glove. In a moment of insanity, he realized Xiao must not have seen his obvious change in tone, a chance to bar his heart again. Lock it away and mask himself as he’d done before. Smile. Smile, Aether. Everything will be fine if you just smile. 

Contradicting the storm brewing in the traveler’s heart, the wind gently pressed against the two: soft and strong as it whistled through the branches above. The view of the night sky was a brilliant kaleidoscope atop the Wangshu Inn, but Aether couldn’t attend to it. Not now, when his gaze fixed firmly behind Xiao’s shoulder, desperately blinking back the emotions that threatened to drip. If he could manage to look unaffected, perhaps everything could revert to normal, but Aether wondered, amidst his mental struggle, what was normal? 

To stand back. Keep his distance. Treat Xiao as a weapon? No. The mere thought elicited an immediate rejection. Aether could never, not even when they had first met.  Even then, he was in awe of the adeptus. Xiao was the perfect mixture of belonging to the world, yet standing outside of it. Untouched by the world's changes as he valiantly struggled nightly to defend it. How could he see him as anything less?

“Fascinating,” Xiao’s voice broke through Aether’s spiraling thoughts, his grip tugging and lifting his hand towards him. Swiftly, Xiao shattered Aether all over again as his tongue swiped a patch of syrup from his glove, tasting the syrup. “You should remove this before it stains.”

What.  Aether couldn’t keep up, face blooming a brilliant red before he could catch himself. Covering his face, he met Xiao’s golden gaze, piercing into his own and struggling to breathe. 

“X-Xiao,” He choked, wrenching away his hand before another rug could be swept out from under him, “You really sh-shouldn’t -”

“Hm? Shouldn’t what?” The Yaksha blinked, considering his prior actions, and his own ears dusted a light pink. “Ah. Am I making you uncomfortable?” The space between them grew and for a wild second, Aether almost pulled him right back, but grasped the railing instead, grounding himself. 

Yes, he had to admit, he was very uncomfortable, but not for the reasons Xiao would think. “I’m fine! You just, can’t… well, if anyone saw, then those rumors would …”

Aether glanced towards the balcony entrance, relieved that no set of eyes could be found looking on upon them. Paimon was keeping her word, giving Aether space and the inn residents down below off to their rooms to prepare for sleep. They were as alone as they could be and Aether wondered if he preferred that over the alternative. His body was hot and broken, a confused combination that struck a headache behind his eyes.

“Are you ill?” 

Aether cursed as his broken movements were finally observed by the other. Shaking his head furiously, Aether turned his back on the other, leaning over the railing to judge the distance of the deck below, carefully considering a route to escape. He couldn’t go far, not without Paimon, but if he  moved quick enough he could-

Xiao was beside him before he could move further, hands hovering over his shoulder with eyes wide in alarm. Aether could see the way his hands wavered, questioning his own next move and, once upon a time, he would have found the action endearing, but now guilt settled in his gut and he swallowed back an embarrassed whine. “Traveler are you trying to-”

No. No. Don’t ask. Don’t-

“Aether.” 

He froze, the earlier panic settling in his bones melted away at the sound of his name. Unspoken in the world for so long, unsaid by voices he desperately wanted to hear. The memory of the chasm, the desperation he felt at Xiao’s sacrifice and…A whisper of his true name to a world that would never know it.

Xiao kept his promise to hold Aether’s name in secret, to allow just one person to recognize who he truly was. Funny, how hearing it sent his heart soaring and crashing down all at the same time. He was frozen in place far better than any elemental reaction could achieve, glancing back at Xiao in earnest.

Xiao had called for him by name. Xiao had.. 

“Xiao?”

The Yaksha looked upon him in trepidation, eyes glancing to the rail and back to Aether again. His expression was near unreadable as he crossed his arms: creating a barrier between them.  Aether knew the action, something Xiao would never admit, but often used to keep the space. Recognizing this obvious sign of Xiao’s pushing him away, he swallowed the desperate whine that threatened to escape him. Despite the multitude of emotions broiling through him, Aether read the Adeptus loud and clear: Xiao was conflicted.

The Yaksha in question considered his words carefully, striking eyes never leaving Aether’s as they wavered between unspoken words, fingers clenched tightly as he sighed, frustrated. “I told you. Speak my name, Adeptus Xiao, and I will be there for you.” 

Aether blinked. What was Xiao getting at?

“Likewise,” he continued, brows furrowing. “You said that heroes can take care of each other…that I can rely on my friends.” Realization slowly came to Aether, sensing the direction Xiao was taking them. “So then… if something is wrong. You can tell me…unless you are trying to spare my feelings?”

“It’s not like-” Words died in his throat as Aether tried to explain himself, but what could he say? He was stuck, lost in the murk of his own, confused, tired emotions.

“If my Karma is affecting you then just say so.” Xiao finished and everything exploded. Aether couldn’t take it any longer, biting back a humorless laugh as he shook his head, wildly flinging his braid behind him as he went. 

“You think that’s- Xiao, no. I’m fine. Really.” He pushed, urged the Yaksha to look beyond his Karma. It was slow progress, one he had seen with each visit, but he couldn’t let Xiao believe his actions had anything to do with the darkness that threatened the Yaksha’s sanity every day. At Xiao’s disbelieving expression, he pressed on, “I was embarrassed, Xiao. You really shouldn’t just lick syrup off of anyone like that-”

Xiao’s retort was as swift as his polearm, “Why would I ever do that to just anyone? Is this another mortal thing I’m unaware of?”

Aether was dying inside. The awkwardness was too much. Far too much. “It’s not something casual friends would do, Xiao. People - not just mortals- can and will take it the wrong way.”

At Xiao’s deafening silence, he felt the nerves crawl up his back and he shivered, unable to stop himself now that he started. “You know the rumors? If it’s so ridiculous for us to be together, isn’t performing something that could be misinterpreted as intimate going to muddle things up?”

Something lit in Xiao’s eyes and the Yaksha looked away, throat clearing as he gazed at the stars as if looking for some answer to a mystery that couldn’t be solved. “Humans believing a Yaksha deserving of a mate… a significant other, is ridiculous. Much less with a traveler who must journey onward and leave them behind.”

How many times could one have their breath stolen from them? Ice cold, metaphorical water, dumped itself over his shoulders, eyes widening at Xiao’s reply. Too many words wanted to sail through him all at once, but the winner came out, ringing clear as a sunny day and forceful. “Karma or no Karma, Xiao, you are more deserving than you give yourself credit.”

Like going in circles. How often had Aether thought the same thing about himself? He was on a journey, his sister and the mysteries of the abyss his top priority. How could he have time to romance? What happened after his journey? There were too many unknowns, too many questions, but to hear those same worries from another was surreal. He’d given too much of himself to Teyvat already. His time. His care. His strength, and to Xiao, he gave his name. A part of him would always be here, there was no escaping it, but Aether would be damned if he let Xiao continue to think himself unworthy of anything. 

Ignoring the broken pieces of his heart, he breached the barrier of Xiao’s crossed arms, pulling them apart despite the Yaksha’s confused grunt. There was a brief second where Xiao tensed, refusing to move, before giving in and letting him close the distance, almost furious in his attempt to hammer the self-doubt away. “Yan Fei is half Adeptus,” He rambled, thinking about the harbor's legal consultant, “She’s proof that a non-human can be with another." 

Xiao attempted to interrupt, but Aether shook his head, pressing on. “A Yaksha is different. I know. Believe me, I know, but…isn’t she still proof that it’s possible? Those with visions can be around you, Xiao...you don’t…You don’t have to be alone. You can be with someone. Anyone.”

He laughed, hollowly, knowing he was pushing through so many barriers, and it was crazy how his earlier feelings of rejection came second place to ensuring Xiao understood his own worth. Distantly, he realized his fingers were squeezing into Xiao’s forearms with a force strong enough to bruise a normal person, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not just yet. Not now. 

“And Xiao…” He continued, voice filling in with a tone of finality, “Anyone-and I do mean anyone- would be honored to be chosen to stay by your side…if you wanted it.”

He clenched his eyes shut. Waiting for the scoff. For Xiao to push him back, to disperse into the anemo particles he controlled and leave him there, empty and alone. 

Yet, none of that happened. Xiao’s earlier grip returned, mirroring Aether’s hold. A blush of heat and warmth spread over his cheeks, realizing the Adeptus had closed the distance, stepping closer as a soft press of lips brushed along his skin. Not wanting to break the spell, to open his eyes and see reality, Aether held in a breath and waited. 

Seconds ticked by, but the presence never left and Xiao shifted, muttering against Aether’s ear, “...Am I allowed to want, Aether?”

Aether recalled a time when Xiao had claimed to have no desires, no aspirations, nothing. This question wrapped the pieces of his heart together and shattered them all over again. So many things about Xiao caused Aether a pain he couldn’t describe, often pushed back in response to other, pressing concerns. And yet those simple words left him weightless, arms wrapping around Xiao to hold him close, to bury his nose into the Yaksha’s shoulder, shaking from the force of his emotions. Was he allowed? How cruel this world could be, to leave someone so afraid of their own wants that they must ask to receive them. “I can’t give you permission. No one can. It’s your choice, Xiao. It always has been.”

Xiao was tense, uncertain where to place his arms, hesitantly they rested against his waist, allowing Aether to pull him tighter in, unaware of the way Xiao melted against him. 

A monumental shift had begun between them, one that left Aether breathless and unsure, but there were many things he didn’t know. That didn’t matter. As a traveler, he loved to explore the unknowns and this, this was as unknown as anything else in the world. To him and Xiao both. But the way Xiao’s next question put another piece of his heart back into place made Aether almost lose his footing. “Am I allowed to want you?”

Perhaps those rumors wouldn’t fade away, after all. Perhaps they were about to find a new addition to stoke the flames instead.  Aether expelled the air he was holding inside himself and knew the question for what it really was. They both knew the end of his journey was full of unknowns, they both knew he might choose to leave one day and yet - he tightened his hold and laughed through the tears welling in his eyes.

“I thought I was the one who asked dumb questions. He sniffled and blinked back the moisture, refusing to cry into Xiao’s shirt. “You can want anyone, but, is it okay for me to want, as well? I still haven’t brought Lumine back, and my journey is far from over, but-”

A shock of pain shot through Aether’s neck and he belatedly realized Xiao had nipped him with a sharp fang, effectively silencing him. The action was so strange and new that he couldn’t figure out where to begin. 

Satisfied by his silence, Xiao withdrew, eyes blinking owlishly as he examined Aether’s red-rimmed eyes. “Your questions are just as ridiculous as always, Traveler. Are humans not allowed to love, even if their goals lead them far away?”

Aether wanted to argue that he wasn’t half as human as many thought, but the argument was cut short, interrupted by the Yaksha pressing their foreheads together, eyes closed. “You can’t promise you’ll stay, just as I can’t promise my karma won't take me eventually. This is… fair enough.”

And it was, Aether realized. It really was. It would take time to process the whirlwind of a conversation they’d just gone through, but in Xiao’s arms, that didn’t seem too daunting a task. For now, they had the time, and the night was still young, with rumors still freshly spreading throughout the inn as Paimon finished her meal and blabbered on to Verr Goldett about one thing or another.  

Looking back to the night sky, he sighed, feeling a secure safety wrap itself around his heart, a certainty that despite all the unknowns of the world, he could at least have this. Xiao, just as silent, but comfortable, joined his gaze upward and sighed. “Perhaps,” he said after a time, voice breaking through the atmosphere of their shared emotions, “we can continue our earlier conversation. You said you had many stories about Sumeru. Could you tell me?”

Aether’s answering smile made his cheeks sore, but his eyes glittered in the starlight. And if their conversation continued well into the night, to be spotted by a few onlookers from the decks below for more gossiping rumors to spread along the harbor and beyond…

So be it.  Aether couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

[thenixkat]

also i like the implications that the people living in this universe think kaiju are evil or actively malicious. The majority of the kaiju seem to be nonsapient but hungry critters but not actively malicious. Granted I dont think most folks who live in a universe were there were living natural disasters that eat people would really care if most kaiju dont seem to have the capacity to be evil rather than just dangerous wild animals

Shinomiya is totally not ecstatic to get her talents recognized and praised by her new substitute dad friend /lying

also the bullets are made of kaiju bits. I'd like to know what part of the kaiju they come from

also Ichikawa really said that he intends to become the strongest b/c he wants to protect Kafka b/c Kafka is the first hero he's met in his life since a kaiju killed his family and Kafka is a nice good guy and he really doesnt want his buddy to get caught killed and turned into weapon parts what a responsible young man. But also, child, you dont have to protect yer adult friend. Its not something you have to deal with

ok that squad leader sounds like she's gonna get some sexual harassment complaints. Lady dont oogle the rookies while yall are being attacked by kaiju

local man just happy to help

yeah I dont like Mina's design. She does not look like a woman that uses bfgs

the artist should have made her beefy i dont care if they have super suits, make that woman jacked

also damn aint nobody got an ass in this

local 27 yr old woman is fucking emotionally constipated and refuses to just communicate her feelings directly

also i like how helmets are not a part of the gear for the Defense Force. folks said they dont need to protect their heads. No need to worry about head trauma yeah no you should not be able to walk on that leg with a chunk that big taken out of you child

also I noticed that the Mushroom actually does have ear holes with the detail in the manga art

local cryptid shooting its own flesh at enemies

oh neat. SO the bullets crom from uniorgan secretions of kaiju. That does raise the question of what do they do if they run out of the specific kaiju's parts to make a certain type of ammo?

no one in this manga has an ass but I'm supposed to belive these sticks are so athletic? yeah the anime should have kept the line about Iharu sending a flare for help b4 coming back makes him look more responsible

the same trick wont work twice on the fungal intelligence

i do very like the idea of characters just straight up praying b/c they're staring down death

I did assume that Iharu is probably in his early 20s. Like 20 in Japan is the age at which you can drink and smoke and such and apparently used to be the age of majority until it got lowered to 18 like in the 2010s (but the mangaka labels Ishikawa and Shinomiya as minors so the mangaka doesnt see them as adults) and Iharu mentioned going to college for 5 yrs. So early to mid 20s probably. I assume most of the recruits are in their early 20s if we only had 2 fuckers too young to drink also imagine 18 and one of yer new adult coworkers decides to declare you to be his rival Kafka said no one picks on and tries to murder his comrades on his watch

and do have to repeatedly state that Kafka's monster form's design is not super consistent in the manga. The shape of his horns differs, the set of his canines, how many spines he has, wether or not he has teh side spines, how craggy he is. SHit is not consistent with him

I will say i prefer his horns drawn in the more crescent shape that makes it clear their extended from his brow ridges. Looks a lot less like rabbit ears

[teatitty]

Hello it is me the absolute mess over FionnDiar here for the ask meme: was interested in your thoughts for them with 10, 18, 33, and 34 ;w;

Cracks knuckles oh this is gonna be fun as hell

10: What scares them about entering a relationship?

HAH! WHAT DOESN'T SCARE THEM ABOUT IT! Fionn is always going to be scared of another Sadhbh incident happening and it manifests in him being very clingy. The nightmares around that have never stopped :')

For Diarmuid... man if we listed off all his fears about getting into this with Fionn we'd be here forever. He has everything from the big abandonment fears to the smaller "what if we get bored of eachother" kind. They're both a bit of a mess about it

18: They’re going through something incredibly difficult—perhaps they’re very sick, have lost a loved one, or have gone through a traumatic event. Do they ask for or accept support and care from their partner, or try to isolate themselves?

So this is an interesting one since we do actually know how Fionn deals with this stuff in the mythos itself: isolation. We also know that Diarmuid is more willing to ask for advice from other people if he's close to them [the Fianna, chiefly]. For all that they'd both rather eat their own tongue before admitting they're having a bad time, Diarmuid is the one more likely to brind it up in conversation than Fionn is

Fionn will reject most anyone who tries to give him support or comfort, but Diarmuid is such an important figure in his life he ends up giving in pretty easily and leaning on him for it

33: Under what circumstances would they feel jealous?

Haha. Fionn gets jealous so fucking easily. Everyone assumes it'll be Diarmuid because of the fae thing but no. I made that "you know other heroes?" joke way back for a reason [it still haunts me that I made a mistype error with 'hereos' oof]. Diarmuid gets jealous only when other fae are involved bc of the territorial thing but is otherwise super chill. Fionn.... not so much. When they first came to Chaldea together people just assumed Fionn was a naturally overly affectionate and clingy person since they were always together and Diarmuid had to laugh and explain that no, actually, Fionn is just jealous that he's making new friends and spending less time with him

He calms down after some months have gone by though, mainly because Diarmuid forces him into making some friends himself so he can get out more

34: Under what circumstances would they feel protective?

Pfft. Is "all of them" a good enough answer? There's a never a time when they're not protective of the other. If one of them looks even slightly upset they have to jump in and find out what's wrong. They get injured in a fight? Now it's 2 on 1 you better run. It gets worse when/if they start dating lolol

[fragileizywriting]

"you know plagg, i think what makes this super scary— okay, no, hold on, it's not actually that scary; i'd say that you're 'pretty scary'— why am i bothering to use quotation marks there? it's not like you can even see me—"

"—i can see you."

huh. okay. "you can?"

"well, yeah." same old plagg, even if this isn't his same old form. "that's the whole point of this. it's just that you can't see me."

yeah, no kidding! instead of a ceiling in her room, there's a giant black void, and in this void comes out fog. it's the world's most strangest augmented reality, perfectly suited for the exact space of her room— the void is flush, right up to where the ceiling meets the walls, black-ink fog slowly drifting down and meeting her peachy-pink walls like there is cotton falling from the sky. light refuses to permeate from there, black and dark and horrid, and if it weren't for her hanging plants still hanging from where she'd hooked a long rope from, she'd assumed that her roof had completely been torn off by a black hole.

"actually, what is the point of this?"

"to help you in fights."

"up there?"

"i'm containing myself in your room so that i don't scare the citizens of paris. but yes."

"huh," she says, rather simply, climbing onto her chaise and looking up, up, up. "so you're seeing a birds-eye view."

"correct, princess." his voice is the deepest thing known to mankind. it rumbles like a cinema theatre would, fitting for what must be the biggest entity in the entire universe, hiding on the other side of the portal, but she doesn't expect to hear a: "you forgot to make your bed today," out of him when she continues to pace around the room, trying to spot anything in the void. he sounds like an old man. deep chested. but also very loud.

"it's like the sims," she tells him, ignoring the quip about her bed. he can see that? but that's above her... so he's telling the truth. "or like a dollhouse."

"essentially."

"how is this supposed to help me in a fight other than scare someone shitless?" she brings a finger up to her chin. "you can see me, so you have a physical form, i'm assuming. unless you are just like, a ceiling rug."

"are you scared shitless?"

wow, it's really funny to hear that voice say a curse word. it's got her giggling. in fact, it breaks tension; she can tell, because she knows plagg really well, that he's nervous— he'd mentioned something about this numerous times throughout her life, saying things about protecting her at whatever cost, including using his form that he doesn't enjoy using— so here they are now, acclimating her to this, so that if there's ever a need for it, she won't panic. but tension still bleeds into the room, because plagg is no longer a cute little tiny kitten that fits in both of her palms, but rather something else entirely. and plagg, poor plagg, is terrified. probably because he’s scared of her reaction? that seems the most logical explanation.

"not really," she replies, rather simply. "it's you, plagg. you've seen me when i'm PMSing. that's pretty scary."

he laughs. “i guess you’re right.”

“now, explain to me what i’ll be looking at.”

“i’m not going to show you my face, or any of that stuff. let’s take this slow.”

“like a new fish acclimating to a new fish tank.”

“your metaphors need some work,” he drawls, a laugh curved into the end. “but sure. anyway, i’m a giant cat god. which is why i don’t want to alarm you with my face, or anything. or my body.”

“like the great sphinx?”

“not exactly. but i’m pretty big, just like it.”

“do you have a tail?”

“i do.”

“awh. and cat ears, too?”

“and cat eyes.”

“you sound cute. like a giant cat? why is that so scary?”

“because i am scary. when i want to, i’ve got six paws.”

six? jesus. ah. oh. hm.

“what do you need all those paws for?” she teases, even though her heart is racing and she’s doing her best not to make a face.

“to deal with you,” he replies, right back, and she imagines that he’s leaning on his folded palms with his chin, just like he always does, whenever he’s fascinated with something. “i’m gonna reach out with one of my hands. don’t freak out. i’ll go slow.”

“you got it, little chef.” then, she stops, before finding herself blurting out: “wait!”

“yeah?”

“i wanna see your left hand.”

“why?”

“i want to have at least some choice.”

he snorts. “will that actually make you feel safer? or are you just pulling my ear?”

“i don’t know. i’m just trying to make you feel better.”

“okay. left one it is, then. let me scoot a bit because i’ve been leaning this entire time on it.”

the two of them go quiet; her, waiting, anticipation stringing her up like a puppet, baited breath stuck in her throat. him, apprehensive, no doubt worried about her reaction because she knows that he has a soft spot for her, try as he might even attempt to deny it. the two of them love each other for a reason. and maybe she feels a bit of pride every time she recalls that he’s told the other kwamis that she’s the best holder he’s ever had, no questions asked.

the void starts to move. she blinks up at her ceiling golden pothos, the vining thing that shifts on her ceiling every time there’s a slight breeze from her humidifier. from the darkness, something emerges, reasonably far away from her and where she stays next to her desk, falling from the void like a puff of the fog.

it’s massive.

it’s massive.

the thing about it is that it’s not even a paw. a giant, almost-barely-translucent, fog-like hand reaches out and rests against her chaise. the arm is thicker than a tree. almost as wide as a car. it— him— he wouldn’t be able to fit through her door. he dwarfs the poor chaise like he’s playing with a miniature dollhouse. oh, oh oh oh— and the fingers— the fingers are that of a human, broad-palmed and kinda proportionately thick fingers? at the ends are claws. just like hers whenever she’s in her hexleather, plagg has talons.

“holy shit!” she eeps, jumping in surprise. giddiness bubbles out of her like carbonation, eyes wide and lips peeled in a grin. “whoa,” she exclaims. and then: “whoa. whoa, whoa whoa!”

“you’re freaking out.”

“you are so much bigger than i thought!”

“princess, you’re freaking out.”

“why do you have human hands?” she blurts out. “you’re a cat god. why human hands?”

“i’ve always had them.”

“but not in your kwami form?”

“i don’t really need fingers at that size.”

“i thought i was going to see a giant cat paw.” even though instinct is telling her to flee, flee, flee, she’s hotwired her brain to deal with whatever is giving her heart palpitations head on. the beauty of fighting akumas every week for the past ten years, of course, and yet even plagg himself seems tense— or as tense she can possibly tell based on a single left hand and strong forearm— when she walks close. “i was ready to see some cute toe beans! toe beans of a cat god! how cute would that have been? but you’re telling me you actually have a hand?”

his thumb is bigger than her. just his thumb. it’s about the same size and stature of mister bug— christ, no, she’s completely wrong, mister bug is the size of plagg’s pinky finger, claw not included— she touches him on instinct, and plagg doesn’t tell her no, so it must be safe. she knows it is. plagg loves her. plagg cares about her. he’d never hurt her. she can feel it.

she faceplants into the webbing between his thumb and forefinger before she starts screaming bloody murder.

“you’re a god,” she mumbles. his skin is cold. physically there, even though he’s slightly transparent. she can sort of see the chaise. the floor. the other side of her room from this angle. she screws her eyes shut before she panics about seeing right through his skin.

“yeah.”

“oh my god,” she wheezes. “this is… wow. plagg, you’re incredible! i always forget that you’re not actually my cat kitten thing but an actual god!”

“i can show up like this even when i’m inside the ring,” he murmurs, or at least tries to, because he’s a massive cat god hiding inside a portal that occupies the entire real estate of her ceiling. “if there’s a sentimonster giving you an actual issue, we can open this gate.”

he says nothing about how she’s purring, nuzzling into his finger, replying with a: “it’s a gate?”

“it’s a portal. gate. whatever. i’m just saying that i’m here for you, okay? always. even during a fight. hey, are you even listening?” he lifts her chin up with the very middle of his finger pad, knowing better than to use the actual talon that adorns the tip. she has the ridiculous sensation of being a polly pocket. “hey. pay attention. the ring takes me to another dimension whenever you power up— it’s a long story, it’s not necessary to explain that— but that means i’m able to come into this dimension whenever there’s a fight, too. i’m pretty fast at grabbing things. maybe i can grab a sentimonster and hold him for you, or something.”

“we’ll work something out, i’ve definitely got some ideas. hey, are you hungry? do you wanna, uh, shrink back a bit to come eat food? i don’t know if you’ll get through the trapdoor like that. i don’t think you even want to get through the trapdoor like that.”

“okay. sure.” and then, just as his hand slowly retreats, still scared to make her scared, she hears him say: “thanks for not relinquishing the ring right then and there, princess. i was… pretty nervous.”

[throughalleternity]

Hi I love your genderfluid!Lucy fics. What are your headcanons about Leon? Like what are some differences how he acts/what he likes as opposed to Lucy?

Hi anon, thanks! I had a lot of fun writing them, and I'm so glad you enjoy them! Rambly thoughts under the cut:

(I'm like a lot of people, where I've got a bunch of different versions of each character in my head. So not all headcanons are from the same version/verse.)

Leon tends to go the extra mile to be chivalrous. At first he wanted to be as cuddly as she can be as Lucy (and sometimes he could be!), but some of it is just… a lot. And Alex and Maggie start to notice when he's there but not present and they're finally like, "what's wrong? Because you forcing yourself to do something you assume we want actually doesn't make us feel good." So they actually talk and figure out what works for everyone (for Leon, it's the full contact cuddling that makes him uncomfortably aware; touch that's less overwhelming is still good and he still wants that). So aside from physical affection, he really likes being able to show affection through chivalry, with the bonus being that he likes being able to express his masculinity that way too. (And as far as director sanvers goes, the way it ends up going is that they all take turns doing things for each other and making each other feel special.)

That said, Leon does get a lot more comfortable with physical intimacy after top surgery. There are still times when the most he wants is to be shoulder to shoulder on the couch, of course. But he likes how he can wrap his arms around Alex and Maggie without feeling dysphoric, how having someone rest their head on his chest feels euphoric and more intimate than it ever has. The flip side is that cuddling with breast forms feels different when she wears them, but it's not that big a deal because it's mostly an aesthetic thing for her - she has some tops and dresses that just work best with some boob.

Sort of an addendum to the chivalry point above: when it comes to rowdy or confrontational strangers, Lucy can be more likely to engage and push back, especially early on. The calculation of how safe that is (even though he's just as capable of defending himself) is a little different for Leon: him being read (correctly) as a man might mean someone is quicker to violence, and someone might read him as relatively more gender nonconforming and take that as an invitation as well. Of course Lucy isn't exempt from targeted harassment, and verbal harassment can be more common, but Lucy has had more practice dealing with that type. Leon would rather prioritize safety since it can be harder to read the situation. (That said, I sometimes envision Lucy on low dose T and more masc presenting, and in those cases, this distinction doesn't exist quite like that, and can even flip.)

@endersbegin and I have talked about Lucy using pressure for comfort, and then @nerdsbianhokie happened to write a super sweet fic with ace!Lucy and a weighted blanket, so that's been folded into my headcanon for genderfluid!Lucy too. It's one of their go-tos when the dysphoria etc makes touch off putting.

There's a different energy Lucy brings when she dances compared to Leon. It's always energetic, always liberating, always themself—but he likes how even with the same choreo, he can change just a few things about how he moves his body—more precision in his torso in one place, looser with his arms in another—it fits how he wants to express himself.

And just in terms of like, day to day how Leon acts, I don't really see him being distinctly different (especially since I don't headcanon Lucy as conforming to female gender norms all that much, even though she does in some aspects). There are differences I've mentioned here and written about, obviously, like different boundaries with touch and differences in gender presentation. But like. I think Lucy struggles at first and worries about over/under performing gender and what that all means and whether they should be doing things differently, but eventually they're just like. "No matter what I think, there are genders I feel intrinsically and they change over time. And there are things I can do to feel more at peace with myself as they change. So I should just do those things, regardless of how stereotypically masculine or feminine those things are." So sure, Leon does usually get euphoria from stereotypically masculine things, and vice versa, but also, at the end of the day, they just want to be happy as themself, and that's easier when they feel free to fuck with gender norms. They want their gender acknowledged, definitely, that's so important for them—they just don't want expectations for how that should look. And as it turns out, the way they behave isn't strongly tied to their gender. (And Alex and Maggie will be like, yeah you're equally ridiculous regardless of gender (affectionate) lol)

[weekend-conspiracy-theorist]

an entry in the tim&steph role swap au

"Bullock," Jim said, just pointedly enough to drag his detective's attention away from the shitty breakroom coffee he'd just spilt on his eternally hideous tie. They'd paused in the bullpen on their way out of a conference room, where they'd been discussing the kind of case that made Jim feel ever closer to retirement.

God, he missed Montoya. She'd have had something incredibly crass to say that would at least have made him want to laugh, even if he wouldn't. He couldn't say she hadn't seemed to be happier with whatever it was she was up to these days (he, very purposefully, did not know what that was), last time she'd caught him for a drink, but he still missed her on the force.

Harvey grunted, glancing up as he snapped his fingers at a nearby officer and made a hand gesture that could easily have meant something rude rather than "go get me some paper towels." Luckily, Marquess caught his drift, and with a roll of her eyes she set aside her pen and rose from her desk. "What?"

"Who is that." Jim tipped his chin across the bullpen, sipping from his own terrible paper cup of breakroom coffee.

Harvey looked over. Squinted. "Berkowitz, I think," he said, and then caught Jim's unamused glower out of the corner of his eye. He squinted again--this time not focusing on Officer Piper Berkowitz, who Jim knew at least by sight because Jim made it a point to know all of his officers (and also because she was taller than every other person in the bullpen), but on the maybe-teen with the big camera and the piercing eyes who was inducing that look of begrudgingly amused annoyance on her face. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her hip propped against her desk; closed body language, unwilling to be convinced by whatever had her conversational partner gesturing so passionately, yet where he looked combative, there was an answering tick of a smile on her lips.

Even as Jim watched, his officer unfolded her arms, sighing, and there was a flash of smug victory in the kid's eyes.

Harvey grunted again. "Some kinda PI. He's popped up a few times recently. For one, he was at that club Supergirl and Wonder Girl busted up, few months back."

It was Jim's turn to grunt. What a headache. It made him appreciate the Batman all the more whenever he had to deal with the young adult super powered set. Even if most of the Bat's brood weren't metas, he had no idea how the man handled that many teens and twenties vigilantes at once.

He sipped more of his coffee. Watched the PI lean on the back of Berkowitz's chair as she pulled up what looked like a license plate search on her computer. "Why's he here and what's he want with Berkowitz?"

"What do they ever want?" Harvey asked dryly. "Information he's supposed to be asking for through official channels, I'd assume."

Sure. But why Berkowitz? was the more important part of the question. She was a beat cop with no particular pull in the department; he only even knew her name because he made it a point to know all their names. He hadn't thought she was crooked, or easily bribed or cajoled--no more than anyone else, anyway--nor especially brilliant at her job. He'd know more than just her name, if she stood out from the crowd, either positively or negatively.

Marquess returned from the bathroom, one hand full of paper towels which she shoved into Harvey's chest. "You're welcome," she said, pointedly, and Harvey scowled at her.

"Keep an eye on it," Jim said.

"Sure," Harvey grunted. He was already more focused on blotting coffee off of his tie.

Jim sighed.

***

The PI--the junior PI, he learned--wasn't any kind of priority for Jim. There were a couple dozen private investigators floating around the city, most of them attached to three or four larger detective agencies, most of them getting their work from law firms and bond agencies. The kid's age and his attitude made him an oddity, but--

Jim was a busy man, with a horrible, thankless job. Oddities were just--

Oddities.

Harvey brought him tidbits occasionally, when he bothered to remember that Jim had asked him to be paying attention. Tim Drake had recently turned 21; he worked for Red Bird Investigations; he owned controlling shares in Drake Industries, a company formed and previously run by his now-dead parents, but he had as little as possible to do with the business; one week, he brought in enough evidence to close the case on a string of robberies that had stretched across the East End, after a young woman grew frustrated with the GCPD's progress and hired him on; the next, he broke the nose of one of Jim's officers after getting in between him and one of Gotham's many sex workers. (The incident was under investigation; no charges were being pressed until it was determined whether the officer had in fact attempted to sexually extort the young man as was alleged.)

Most of Jim's rank and file officers seemed to dislike the kid, and the feeling was clearly mutual. Harvey said it was because Drake made himself easy to dislike, but Jim knew it was deeper than that. He was fighting a constant, losing war with his own people to remind them that they were not above the law; that they were public servants; that just because the man or woman beside you wore the same badge as you did, didn't mean you automatically trusted their word above that of the civilian on the other end of their gun. He just could never seem to convince them not to blindly close ranks around each other--even the clean ones seemed to think camaraderie trumped the need for objective detective work.

Tim Drake afforded Jim's officers none of the respect that they believed they deserved for wearing their badges, and that was what they disliked. Berkowitz, Jim assumed, was one of the few officers with her head on straight enough to recognize the kid could be a useful source of information, if an annoying one.

Jim told Harvey to shut it down, next time he heard anyone talking shit about any private investigators, but he knew even as he said it that he was wasting his breath.

***

"Piper."

It wasn't a shout, but the sheer command behind the name had every head in the bullpen whipping towards the door, including Jim's--

He saw disheveled black hair and wide, pale eyes, a swollen nose and heavy bruising blooming across a tense jawline, and then Officer Miles Franklin threw up his arm and stepped in between Tim Drake and the rest of the bullpen. Berkowitz was pushing her way out of the breakroom, but even her lofty height and broad shoulders had a hard time parting the sea of gawking policemen.

"What are you doing in here, Drake?" Franklin demanded. "This isn't open to the public--"

"Out of my way, pig," Drake snarled, actually snarled, and brushed his arm out of the way. "I need to talk to--"

"The fuck did you just call me?!"

Jim had been halfway out the door into the stairwell on the opposite side of the room when Drake burst into the bullpen, but he still found himself shouting and his feet moving the moment Franklin grabbed the front of the kid's shirt, knowing Drake was about to get shoved bodily into the wall--

Drake moved, faster than anyone Jim had seen without a mask over their eyes, and Franklin was the one plastered against the wall as Drake twisted his arm up behind his back.

Half the room was yelling, but Drake's voice carried. "I don't have time to play games with you when there are kids in danger, you self-aggrandizing scum of the earth goddamn poli--"

Berkowitz yanked Drake backwards by the collar of his tshirt. His feet actually briefly left the ground. "What kids, Tim?" she demanded. Steady; calm; a distinct counterpoint to Drake's trembling fury.

"Fuck," he cursed, with feeling, and even before his toes touched back down he was fumbling in his messenger bag for that same massive camera Jim had seen him carrying the last time he was in the precinct. "Piper, I found Carrie Prentiss--"

"The runaway?" Franklin asked scathingly, as he yanked his uniform shirt back into place.

Drake and Berkowitz ignored him, though she shifted between the two of them to break his line of sight on the PI. "It's a fucking trafficking ring, at least ten kids involved, and I think they're moving them tonight. I've got--"

He barely had to shove the camera into her hands before she was already flipping through the pictures in the gallery, her own jaw tightening.

When she noticed a presence leaning over her shoulder, she whipped her head around, something nasty on her lips--but it died when she realized it was Jim. Neither of them had noticed him telling the rest of the room to shut the fuck up and stand down.

"Where is this?" he asked Drake, gruffly, as he took the camera out of Berkowitz's hands; Drake rattled off an address down near the docks, his hands flexing at his sides and nearly vibrating in his boots. Had to have taken him thirty minutes just to get here. "You couldn't just call 911?"

"And have them send a marked cruiser to check my story? Make them move those kids immediately?" A trickle of blood had begun to leak slowly down his upper lip, and he swiped it away with his shirtsleeve, adding sardonically, "I also may have stumbled into some of Falcones' boys in my haste to put enough distance between me and their people to safely make a call to Berkowitz. I was three-quarters of the way here before I shook them."

"Your fucking luck," Berkowitz said flatly. "That's got to be the third time this month you've 'stumbled' into some kind of enforcement bullshit."

"It's a talent. Comissioner, please--"

Jim had seen enough. License plates; faces; identifying marks. Zip ties on wrists too small for handcuffs. "I need SWAT on the phone yesterday," he snapped. "Simmons--"

***

It was a long night.

Most of them were long nights, but this was--

It was a long night.

"Thank you," he said, gruffly, and resisted the urge to give Berkowitz a side eye. She was a full head taller than him; he wouldn't get much out of it.

Berkowitz was the one to bring him coffee, looking tired and faintly apologetic, as he observed Drake's after-the-fact questioning. Jim suspected he wasn't the only one on an adrenaline crash; despite his typical standoffish and abrasive demeanor, the kid had turned over his SD card readily, additionally offered up the case notes he also had shoved into that messenger bag, and was at least neutral, though not quite polite, as he walked Simmons through the work that was going to result in fourteen reunited families, by the time they finished tracking the rest of the kids' parents down.

(Carrie Prentiss's mother was out in the bullpen, holding her daughter tightly and sobbing, comfortable in the knowledge that her decision to hire a private investigator had saved over a dozen lives.)

She just sighed, staring through the mirror at Drake. "He been behaving himself this whole time?"

"More or less."

"Minor miracles."

Jim snorted. He sipped the coffee. "How'd you end up in the middle of this?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. "Not exactly your beat."

"No, not my beat at all," Berkowitz agreed, and there was something in her tone that had Jim turning, his eyebrows rising. She scrubbed a hand over her face. Left it pressed against her cheek as she watched Drake through the mirror.

"Four years ago," she said quietly, "I'd had my badge just long enough to think I knew a little bit about what I was doing, when me and my partner of the time got dispatched to the aftermath of a home invasion. The paramedics were already there, and it was--well. There've been way nastier murders in Gotham, but not ones I've personally been on the scenes of. The guy's sixteen-year-old son had got home right after the perps left, tried to do CPR; he was covered in blood, had been going so long he'd broken some of his dad's ribs, was refusing to let the paramedics pull him away. Turned out I actually had absolutely no goddamn clue what I was doing, that had become clear the second I stepped into that house, but someone had to get that kid out of there. So I picked him up under the armpits and carried him right out the door." She held her arms out straight, demonstratively. "Kid cursed up a blue streak, fought like a demon, and I just held him there on the front lawn, let him go at it until all the fight just... left him."

Berkowitz breathed in slowly through her nose, letting her arms fall. "When the tabloids came knocking, wanting the scoop on the most violent murder in Bristol since the eighties, straight from the lips of the first responders who had pulled Jack Drake's son off of his lifeless body, I was the only one who told them to go to hell. Guess Tim appreciated that. There are a few other officers he's willing to work with when he has to, but I'm the only one he ever seeks out willingly. He's a perceptive little brat, probably knows I have a hard time holding his attitude against him when I know where it comes from. When I don't always disagree with him."

Jim, as deliberately obtuse as he ever was, definitely did not think about a coat draped over a young boy's shoulders or a black cape that may have one day replaced--

He didn't think about it. "This goddamn city," he said, instead, and Berkowitz snorted.

"Every day I wake up and I think, 'This is it. The day I finally fucking quit.' But I never do it." She scrubbed a hand over her face. "Sometimes I think Tim's probably right, when he gets frustrated with me for acting too much the cop and starts getting nasty about my life choices. I don't know if we can really change things from the inside. But what the hell else am I supposed to do?"

It wasn't like Jim had never asked himself the same question.

"The best you can," he told her gruffly, and drained the rest of the coffee she'd brought him.

***

Jim had added new data points to his list about Tim Drake:

The kid was, objectively, a genius. He was also, objectively, an asshole, and a trouble magnet, and suffering from a terminally self-important case of "being twenty-one years old." It all formed a picture of a brilliant, traumatized teenager who was growing up into an ewually brilliant adult with a massive chip on his shoulder, but Jim didn't--

There were still questions.

Where the hell the kid's boss ever was, for one. It had been a minute since Jim had brushed up on the State of New Jersey's training requirements for private investigators, but he was pretty sure Drake shouldn't have had as much free rein as he did. Why even a traumatized millionaire's son would turn to private investigating instead of running the company he wanted nothing to do with and nonetheless refused to let go of. How he got half the information he turned up with, because even a genius didn't have encyclopedic knowledge of Gotham's crime families because he "liked to keep his ear to the ground," as Berkowitz reported, making scare quotes and rolling her eyes.

The oddity was becoming a genuine concern, low in Jim's gut. Drake only seemed to be blunt and standoffish; Jim became more certain, every few and far between time that he watched the PI move around his precinct, that Tim Drake was a man who played his cards close to his chest; who never gave up more than he got back; who was pulling strings to get what he wanted even when it wasn't clear what that was.

It was time for a second set of eyes.

***

Jim wasn't surprised that Drake figured out what was happening before they made it to the roof of the GCPD. Those sharp, pale eyes of his didn't miss much; they certainly didn't miss the ROOF ACCESS sign or the keycard Jim swiped to open the door.

"Gee," Drake drawled, massive coffee cup in one hand and the other tucked nonchalantly into his pocket. "I don't think I'm supposed to be up here, Commish."

Jim had been amused to realize, the first time he had an actual talk with the kid, that Drake was utterly torn between his instinctive dislike of police officers and his begrudging personal respect for Commissioner Gordon, and he tended to compromise by alternately being sarcastic or quiet, rather than boldly rude and antagonistic like he was with most of the department.

An expression twisted across Drake's face, there and gone before Jim could identify it.

"Special circumstances," Jim said gruffly. He didn't even have to look to find the switch for the Bat Signal; his fingers found it on autopilot. He'd summoned the Bat on accident more than once when he'd come up here to smoke and didn't notice himself going through the motions. "You've helped us close a few big cases recently, and I like to make sure all my resources are familiar with one another."

"Makes sense," he said, with another unidentifiable note in his voice. Amusement, maybe. Not that that made sense.

The Bat wasn't going to take long to show up--Jim had given him something of a heads up in advance--and so Jim was particularly on alert as he lit his cigarette. He didn't go so far as to peer directly into the shadows, but he kept his attention on his lighter and searched his periphery. He felt the shift in the air when he arrived, but wasn't sure yet where he'd landed. Was that corner there darker than normal?

"Batman," Drake greeted calmly, turning his chin to gaze at a different shadowy corner, and Jim felt his eyebrows raise as Gotham's Dark Knight stepped slowly into... well, not into the light. But out of the worst of the gloom.

"Tim," Batman returned, as unflappable as ever.

Jim took a drag of his cigarette, fighting back the surprise that wanted to blossom across his own face.

"OH MY GOD!"

The excited shriek split the night, and Drake--who Jim had yet to see wearing any expression that wasn't some combination of stoic, smug, or pissed off--lit up like a Christmas tree. His coffee cup sailed towards the trashcan by the door (missed, barely) and he sprinted towards--

Jim took an involuntary step forward, a gasp strangling his voice, as Drake leapt off the roof.

He seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and then a second figure, blonde hair and a grapple line streaming behind her, slammed into him. Drake's arms flung around her neck, Batgirl's arms flung around his waist, and she spun him in a circle once her boots touched down on the rooftop, laughing delightedly. In a move too fluid to be improvised, their grips reversed as she was setting Drake down, and then he was spinning her around instead.

"Tim!" she cried, throwing her arms up as she leaned back into his grip. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"When the hell did you get back from space?!" Drake demanded.

He tried to put her down, but Batgirl was suddenly clinging to him, octopus-like, with all four limbs. "God, check your messages. Literally, I had walked into the Cave when B was like, 'Oh, I've gotta go to the GCPD,' and I was like, 'Fuck yes, it's been forever since I got to hang with the Commish,' and stowed away in the Batmobile. Wonder Girl and Impulse say hi, by the way, and--"

Batman cleared his throat.

His expression, even through the cowl, even through the gloom, was long suffering. Jim--remembering the migraine he'd gotten from dealing with Supergirl and Wonder Girl--felt an uncommon surge of pity towards the man in the cape.

"Go find another roof for your meeting, B, we're busy," Batgirl told him sternly, but she did disentangle herself from Drake, leaving only one arm possessively curled around his shoulders.

"I take it you've all already met," Jim said, with nominal good humor and just enough bite to remind the Bat that their flow of information was meant to be a two-way street.

Batgirl's eyes got big behind the cowl, reflected in the way it pulled at her cheeks. "Ooh, is that what this was supposed to be?" she stage-whispered to Drake. "What'd you do, huh? Break another cop's nose?"

"Another?" Batman repeated.

"Don't worry about it," Drake said calmly. Batgirl cackled as Batman's expression grew further pained. "Officer Pickens has bigger things to worry about. Like the IA investigation." He paused, squinted at the Bat, and added, "Don't give me that look. Unlike all of your little minions--" he flinched as Batgirl pinched him in retaliation-- "your disappointment has literally no effect on me."

Batman, visibly, took a breath. "Honestly, Jim," he said, just a hint more exasperated than gravelly, "I was trying not to jinx you. You don't deserve to have to deal with this."

"What am I, Beetlejuice?" Drake asked dryly. "You say my name three times and I'm summoned from the ether?"

Batgirl pressed her nose to Drake's ear, whispering something that made his mouth curve up in a wicked smirk. He tilted his chin towards his shoulder, telling her quietly, but not quite quietly enough, "Robin and I bonded while you were gone. I think it's giving him a better idea of the kind of shit we used to pull, and he wishes he was still oblivious."

Used to pull, Jim thought. (Didn't think, not really, because he didn't want to know.) They'd clearly known each other a long time. He couldn't remember any male, black haired, teen vigilantes in Gotham when Batgirl had been Robin, which meant--

He wasn't thinking about it. He genuinely, deliberately, would not be looking for 5'8"-5'11" blondes in Tim Drake's personal life.

(Especially not ones who intersected with his own daughter's.)

Jim took a drag off his cigarette. Although...

"There was a kid," he said slowly, "who used to 'run messages' into the precinct on behalf of some anonymous tipster. Montoya always suspected he knew more than he was letting on. Kid had such a baby face, wonder if he's lost it now that he's an adult."

Neither Drake nor Batgirl reacted, in a way that was a reaction in and of itself.

"Sounds irresponsible on behalf of the tipster," Drake managed, keeping his face as straight as possible. "Getting a kid involved like that?"

Batgirl coughed.

"I'm gonna stop asking questions before the answers keep me up at night," Jim decided, stubbing his cigarette out on the side of the Bat Signal--there was a bare spot in the black paint, just there--and tossing it into the trashcan. It stuck on the coffee splattered against the lip, drawing attention to the cup on the ground next to it, and Drake looked faintly embarrassed.

Batgirl cocked her head to the side. "You could've almost looked cool if you'd actually made that."

"I hate you," Drake told her.

"You wish you hated me," Batgirl told him.

"I wish I'd never had children," Batman told Jim.

Batgirl brightened, even as she picked Drake up in a fireman's carry--he yelped, scrambling to hold on--and grabbed her grapple gun off of her belt. "Good thing I'm not your kid!" she said, cheerfully, and for the second time tonight someone jumped off of the GCPD roof.

Jim tucked his hands in his pockets, surveying the living gargoyle in front of him. He waited long enough he thought the kids were out of earshot, then waited some more until the Bat gave him a slight nod. Figured they'd tried to hang around to eavesdrop. "I take it that whatever ulterior motives I'm detecting in him, they're probably nothing to worry about."

"Hngh." Batman shifted, and his cape brushed gently against the concrete rooftop. "I recently found out she's been manually deleting him off of my World Domination Predictive Algorithm spreadsheets for years," he admitted. "There's a lot of uncertainty to those anyway, of course. And I... trust her judgement."

"You trust his?"

"Nominally." The barest hint of a smile. "As far as I can tell, he hasn't ever tried to take over the world."

Jim snorted. "Your opinion has been noted."

"Anything else you needed me for?"

Jim crossed one leg over the other, leaning back against the wall. "Word on the street is Black Mask has been making moves into Triad territory. Any ideas why."

"Mm. Three weeks ago..."

[starlene]

Titanic: the Artifact Exhibition thoughts:

Let me start by saying that I have some... let's say, ethical qualms about the whole artifact exhibition thing. Obviously, they're not severe enough to prevent me from seeing the touring exhibition (and to be clear, I have seen different iterations of it in four different countries now.) But even so – I just don't think it's super cool that these historical artifacts are owned by a company who thinks Las Vegas is a proper permanent home for them. There is something very sideshow-esque about the whole thing. While it's cool that some of the artifacts tour the world for many people to see, if I got to decide, their permanent home would be in a well-established museum in a location that figures in the story of the RMS Titanic somehow. But I don't get to decide that, so whatever, I guess!

Mostly, the exhibition is both respectful and informative, but there are some little problems. The most notable one is that they haven't updated all their info plaques and their audio guide, so there are issues like two plaques right next to each other having contradictory info (say, how much the tickets cost in today's money.)

I also don't think it's, hmm, super great how you walk by the names of everybody that died – straight into a souvenir shop stand of teddy bears dressed as captains. I mean, sure, they need to make their money somehow, and I did buy a bunch of postcards and stuff myself... but apart from a handful of replica newspapers, cups and such, the shop really has the most tasteless selection of Titanic merch known to man. The only things missing are the "Titanic Swim Team 1912" shirts and the ice cube trays.

To make it clear: I'm not saying you're a horrible person if you wear a Titanic Swim Team tee or whatever (tbh, I would buy a Vasa Swim Team 1628 one in a heartbeat myself) – these days, the sinking of the Titanic is a part of popular culture just as much as it's a historical event, so it's just natural there are joke-y products around. I just think the contrast of a memorial wall for the actual victims and the captain teddies is rather gruesome.

Also, speaking of Titanic in popular culture and the public consciousness, I don't think it's super great how the exhibition strengthens certain Titanic myths that don't really have much truth to them, or are less black-and-white than the usual story goes.

They make a big deal of the Titanic (and the Titanic alone) being "unsinkable", to the point of lifting Captain Smith's "modern shipbuilding" quote¹ out of context, which of course makes guests assume he said that about the Titanic specifically. They also claim Captain Smith was about to retire after the Titanic's maiden voyage, though there isn't really any evidence to prove that. And of course, they keep mentioning how the Titanic was the largest ship ever built – which is technically true, sure, but I think it's worth mentioning that in practice, she and the Olympic were twin sisters.

I even spotted a new piece of nonsense in the exhibition that I've never heard before: they claim that Thomas Andrews was not supposed to be on the maiden voyage at all, but he had to travel in place of Lord Pirrie when he fell ill. I believe Thomas Andrews was always meant to lead the guarantee group, like he had done on previous maiden voyages, and I have never heard anything to the contrary before. But what do I know?

Props to the exhibition for not demonising J. Bruce Ismay, though! On the contrary, they mention he helped passengers board the lifeboats before leaving on the last lifeboat to be properly launched.

Anyway!! I think I have been negative enough here. I may have a lot of nitpicks, but even so, as a whole, I think the exhibition is a good introduction to the story of the Titanic, and it's interesting and touching to nerds like me, too. I like the interactive parts such as the changing soundscapes. I feel the sound design has gotten better since the last time I saw the exhibition, I especially enjoyed the soundscape near the 3rd class cabin reproduction that demostrated how you could hear the engines all the time in those cabins. The touch the iceberg thing is good and very sobering too, it really helps you to understand how hypothermia was only a matter of minutes on a night as cold as April 15th, 1912.

And of course, there are the artifacts themselves! I assume they keep most of the flashier ones in Vegas, but there were some good ones. My favourite was a golden chain with three lucky charms: a clover, a star, and a lucky pig. The lucky pig obviously didn't make it, but I do wish its owner did. I also liked the Extra Moist Cherry Toothpaste jar just because that sounds so silly. There were reproductions of that in the souvenir shop, but I couldn't justify buying one – maybe I would have if it came with some of that moist paste, but nope!

ETA: Something I found interesting was that pretty much every single artifact that was a part of the ship's decor, from dishes to lamp holders, was stamped with the White Star Line logo, even the fancy first class tableware. Was that all about boosting their brand recognition, or were they that worried about things being stolen? Or did they want to show off that everything was custom-made just for them, no off-the-shelf items from any generic manufacturer? Maybe it was a little bit of each?

I also think it's interesting to think about the weird journey the artifacts have made. Someone put them in their luggage to cross the Atlantic, they sunk along with the ship and spent about 80 years in the darkness... and then someone else came along with an underwater robot that has little hands and picked them up. The people who originally owned them could never have imagined the journey their everyday items would go on – or, if they briefly saw a vision of their trousers ending up in a glass case in a Swedish mall with some Finnish nerd staring at them, they probably thought they're just about to lose their mind.

All in all, Titanic: the Artifact Exhibition in Täby, Sweden, was a thought-provoking experience for me in many ways. I'm glad I got the chance to go.

¹ "I cannot imagine any condition which would cause a ship to founder. I cannot conceive of any vital disaster happening to this vessel. Modern shipbuilding has gone beyond that." (Said by Smith after the RMS Adriatic's maiden voyage in 1907)

[beinfriends]

DETAILED DISLIKES!

( answer the questions for your muse. )

TAGGED BY it's an old meme

MUSE’S NAME.  Leder Bertram Herze

LEAST FAVOURITE NICKNAME.  I don't think he cares one way or another. But he'd rather be called Leder than Beanpole/Beanstalk, which was a lot of people's nickname for him prior to the cataclysm.

LEAST FAVOURITE COLOURS.  I don't think he likes bright or neon colors. Probably yellow in particular, idk. He likes dark, monochrome colors lol.

LEAST FAVOURITE SEASON.  Summer for sure, especially since he used to stand outside all fucking day during the insane heat. He'd rather be cold than hot, though his preference for cold has lessened as he's gotten older and developed joint paint.

LEAST FAVOURITE WEATHER.  Hot weather, as I said, though he hates super cold weather too. Please just give him a nice temperate climate. He is tall and very old he does not need this. He also doesn't like it when it gets super windy.

LEAST FAVOURITE, HOT OR COLD.  WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME ESSENTIALLY THE SAME QUESTIONS-- fucking hot.

LEAST FAVOURITE HOLIDAY.  I don't think he really dislikes any, though he doesn't care for his birthday at all. Leder just doesn't see a reason to celebrate that for himself, really? Not that he hates it, he's just whatever about it.

LEAST FAVOURITE FOOD.  I don't think he enjoys marzipan.

LEAST FAVOURITE FLAVOUR.  I think Leder probably dislikes strong flavors rather than any particular one. Too sour, too spicy, too sweet, too bitter, etc.

LEAST FAVOURITE DRINK.  Not much of a soda guy, I imagine. Too sugary. Also same for iced tea in Tazmily, they probably got the diabetes type sweet tea there KRHF

LEAST FAVOURITE SCENT.  After being held prisoner in a sewer, I'd assume whatever the fuck those awful, musty apartments smelled like lol.

LEAST FAVOURITE SOUND.  Probably doesn't like the sound of people eating. That or just 'whatever distracting sound there is when he's trying to work'.

LEAST FAVOURITE BOOKS.  Leder doesn't like conspiracy books or dishonest, hokey nonsense like that. Especially as a former book publisher, lol.

LEAST FAVOURITE MOVIES.  Probably not into particularly violent ones. Not a big action guy, prefers quiet dramas.

LEAST FAVOURITE TV SHOWS.  Same sort of thing, but I don't think he enjoyed TV in general. A lot of it was likely propaganda back in those days.

LEAST FAVOURITE AREA OF STUDY.  I don't think he cares any which way-- he appreciates everything.

LEAST FAVOURITE ASPECT OF JOB.  I think dealing with the others towns' bullshit. There's a lot of whining and griping at Tazmily since they're the most established town and the most successful in some ways, and dealing with the people running these towns can be obnoxious, particularly Molewarp Council.

LEAST FAVOURITE PERSON.  Porky Minch babey!!!  It couldn’t be anyone else but him, and most people would agree with that.

LEAST FAVOURITE TRAIT IN OTHERS.  Selfishness, good God. He loves the Tazmilians to death, they're all like family to him, but man it was painful watching them do all that stupid shit during the Pigmask occupation.

LEAST FAVOURITE PLACE TO BE.  New Pork City. I think that's self-explanatory.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING TO TALK ABOUT.  While Leder is basically Tazmily's one therapist, he doesn't like to talk about his own trauma. Because of this, he rarely talks about his past, his wife, his family, so on.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT THEMSELF.  He's a pushover sometimes and he didn't do nearly enough to protect Tazmily when he felt he could've. He's not sure what he'd tell them would've changed anything, though.

LEAST FAVOURITE DAILY CHORE.  I don't think he cares either way. Chores are chores, but he's never been the best at anything that takes him bending over a lot. Bad back and all, y'know.

LEAST FAVOURITE STYLE OF CLOTHING.  Leder isn't much into casual clothes himself. He likes to dress formally and nicely all the time. He doesn't care what others do, though.

LEAST FAVOURITE ACTIVITY.  I don't think he enjoys cooking much. It's not bad, just not his thing.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT HUMANITY.  How easy it is for them all to forget where they came from and what they've gone through. Leder was always vehemently against erasing their memories, and he knew it wouldn't end well and was right. He never blamed the Tazmilians for that, but it could've saved some heartbreak, perhaps, if they'd known how to deal with conflict better. Even prior to Nowhere, though, humanity has been like this. Egos get in the way of everything.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT FALLING IN LOVE.  Knowing you could lose 'em. And he did. It's hard not being able to be with someone you love forever.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT DEATH.  The fact that it just isn't fair sometimes. Leder doesn't fear death and he accepts it, but he can't deal with it too much when someone dies "before their time," essentially. He was crushed when Hinawa died because she had so much life to live.

[varijacija]

Not outing myself because my work isn't finished yet but, I recognized despite being queer, it's hard to shake those problematic framings off. So I did the next best thing. Made a world where people think the character is weird for assuming that as norm/wanting the straight nuclear family etc. She's a lesbian. She doesn't know it yet but she gets to be the part of me dealing with my past internalized issues. She luckily has a patient husband who is desperately trying to acquaint her with his big sis, for the sake of their alliance staying allied (reliant on her marrying into his family. His sister counts whether her (wife's) shitty parents realize that or not. But they already married their son to a gay dragon who they assumed was female because they're bad at gender and both the dragon and her martial family just don't understand these backwards customs.) It's not the best or most elegant solution but it makes me happy that the world in this story finds the whole shebang I grew up with strange and disconcerting rather than "normal"

To be clear there's plenty of different orientations and pairings but most of my characters are bi or some other flavor of queer, specifically because I also am.

I dont think you got what I was trying to say its completely fine writing a story that has a lesbian whose confused in a het family and outside that family theres a normal world with all kinds of sexuality (tbh we need more stories like that) but I meant more like a bunch of hetero stuff is in our irl society that we just dont even notice like the whole concept of marriage is a het thing and also something that was created to buy a woman or for economic or political reasons to unite big families and today we made it less awful where gay people can get married (in some places not in my country tho 🥲) and a woman can choose her own husbend and its has more to do with love and sharing your life BUT I think if youre creating a world thats completely not homophobic and not sexist from the beginning (i mean depends what kind of world youre making from your post I'm getting more of a "was super heteronormative but now its an old concept that only some people still believe in") its strange seeing marriage or the nuclear family or women being seen as motherly and soft and man being seen as tough and the head of the family all that gender stuff (also you cant have a nonhomophobic world thats sexist those two things go hand in hand but thats another post) a bunch of things some people just take as human nature but there are very specific things that happened that got us here and my point was that I would like some more creative worldbuilding with that in mind

Not trying to shit on your book at all just wanna explain by point better

[ashthehermit]

Legends of Tomorrow: A Retrospective 2.2

I know this one is a big part of DC lore, though I don't know the context.  I didn't know that when I first watched it, so I spent the whole time being like 'who is that?  What is this?  Why is any of this important?'.  I also didn't know who Vixen was (another plight of not watching Arrow).  Damien Darkh was fairly easy to pick up on.  He's an evil magic man!  Oh no!  Vixen/Amaya was harder to figure out, especially as she's introduced along with a whole heap of distracting characters.  This episode, while better than anything season one had to offer, is just more proof to me that Legends was better when it was separated from the shows it spun off from.

THE JUSTICE SOCIETY OF AMERICA

We start off where we left them, with the JSA capturing the legends, with the change that Nate recognises his own grandfather.  They explain their whole bit (time travel) to the JSA, which is a bit wild,  but entirely in character.  Then there's a punch up, where I'm sure there were a series of cool characters, but I lost track of every single one of them, especially as most of it happened in near darkness.  There's a new musical theme, as if to signal that these guys will be a big deal moving forward.  They will and they won't.  As a concept, the JSA lore will be shuffled over to CW's Star Girl while Legends does its own thing.

In my first viewing, I didn't even realise that Rex had powers.  Apparently he does, and a superhero name to boot.  All of this passed me by.  While I know that I'm prone to missing details in initial viewings, I truly think that this episode is just trying to juggle more balls than it can handle.  We still haven't gotten to grips with who Nate is, what the main plot of the season will be, and now there are a heap of new characters to get through.

Nate knows all about the JSA, which is apparently wild, even for a historian, because Commander Steel is his grandfather!  It's pretty neat.  I don't hate this element.  The JSA are giving us an opportunity to learn about our new boy Nate.  Huzzah.

'You'll find that I have an entirely different concept of time than most.'

Thawne gives the Nazis a serum to make a super soldier.  Now this sounds familiar.  I don't care much.  Rex claims he doesn't know any of the legends, which they really should have expected, as time travellers.  They assume that Stein is the leader, because Rex is presumably a misogynist.  Or at least, he's a 1940s man.  Even retrospectively, I'm not certain how Rex warned the legends not to go to 1942, or what would even happen if they stayed.  It seems like their actions don't even result in his death, seeing as Thawne was behind it.  This plot point smacks a little of an ending stinger that was not thought through, and then not woven well into the plot of the season that followed.

Nate is all excited to meet his Pops, but tells him that he's dead a little too excitedly.  Does Commander Steel have powers?  I couldn't tell you.  The JSA go off to fight Nazis and tell the legends they can't come.  They board the Waverider and sod off.  The legends commiserate on how they aren't up to scratch in comparison to the JSA.  Stein and Ray argue over who should be leader.  Jax lampshades what we all know; that Rex picked Stein as leader because he's white and male and old.  Legends did end up becoming a show that was very political, but season one doesn't really lean into it, beyond saying that dictators are evil.  Jax's line is a sign of things to come, where Sara will refer to being straight and white and male as Nate's 'other superpower'.  Legends becomes a show that wants to change history to favour the people it has overlooked, or save people who deserve it.  It's on its way there, in a sense, albeit slowly.

'With Rip gone, we could use some adult supervision.'

Nate claims that meeting his grandfather felt rather empty.  Sara says that they're going to drop him off in 2016 because he's essentially a civilian.  I'm laughing because of how in the future, Nate will be one of the most seasoned legends, with many of the others possessing even less fight training.  The team really cuts down on how many fighters it has in the future.  Zari 2.0 and Behrad, while having superpowers, never throw a real punch.  Neither does human Gideon.  Anyway,  that's not relevant to this episode.  Nate realises that his grandfather's dog tags are gone, meaning that they've changed history again.  Or Thawne has.  It's one of the two.

Nate picks up a notebook to review his notes, but the only page we get a flash of is a drawing of a woman.  Great notes, Nate.  They head back to 1942 to make sure that the plucky superheroes don't get offed by the Nazis.  I love Nate not being able to do basic things sometimes.  He doesn't know how to operate the screens on the bridge and Jax has to help him.  I love that little character moment.  I can't say why.  I love when the legends are a bit hapless rather than being straight up incompetent.  

Jax questions Stein's plans to infiltrate a Nazi nightclub, and Stein mostly just insults everyone else.  Nate claims that he speaks six different languages, which makes him far more cool than his demeanour would imply.  What a nerd.

'Very popular in Austria, where the hills are alive with the sound of music.'

Legends never has a great devotion to historical accuracy in its costuming.  I would assume they never had the budget anyway.  This club scene in 1942 is where it really bugged me.  Amaya is wearing a dress that I truly believe I saw on ASOS.  I have a lot of thoughts on Amaya's character, which I won't put here.  The lack of period costuming for her is a sign for me, about how lost they are with her character.  I'll come back to that.  This whole scene is an excuse to have Victor Garber sing, which I can't fault.

Nate learns the baron's plan from just standing close to his table, which isn't a good sign for any real spies nearby.  The gang doesn't salute, which is a classic way to get them spotted.  It's more proof that they're good people, and terrible spies.  It becomes a punch up, which we all saw coming.  The JSA save them, and Stein gets to look like an idiot in claiming that the legends were trying to save the JSA.

It's all sort of fine.  There are more jokes than there used to be.  Nothing particularly quotable, but nothing horrible either.  You can tell that this is an episode where the show is still stretching its new tone.  

'Does your team ever stop arguing?'

There is a cute bit where the legends try to vote on whether they can help the JSA, and Rex just stares them down.  Sara gets suspicious over Nate's cuts and bruises.  He has hemophilia.  Nate is reckless because he's been coddled his whole life.  I liked this character element, and always felt that it worked for Nate, but the show always seemed to forget about it.  They remembered it only at opportune moments, and never quite added enough texture into Nate's life with the condition to make it convincing.  It's one of those disappointing elements that never quite gets ironed out.

Amaya talks to Ray, seemingly only to shame him for not having superpowers.  Why not shame Rory, or Sara, while you're at it?  I know that this is for Ray's arc this season, but it's a little forced.  

'If it's any consolation Dr Palmer, you're not really a hero.'

They find the baron and have a nice old punch up.  The baron rushes off to use the super serum, which is an opportunity for some questionable special effects.  Stein fails as a leader, which we all expected, but I understand that it's part of the arc.  God, this CG is terrible.  Sara orders them to retreat, while Stein flounders.  They leave Ray and Amaya behind, even though it seems as if they aren't particularly far away.  It seems to be another excuse for Ray to get captured and tied up.  Watch out, because it will happen again.

Ray agrees to help the enemy to save the nice woman he's with.  Watch out, because this will happen again.  Nate has a chat with his grandfather in the med bay, which makes me once again appreciate how it looks like the least comfortable medical facility in the universe.  Commander Steel doesn't enjoy being Nate's hero, because he thinks that it will get Nate killed.  Nate reveals that he always wanted to be a soldier, which aligns with everything else we know about him.  Steel assures him that he doesn't need to be a soldier, which is good, because Nate would make a very bad one.  Look at him, he's followed no orders since he arrived.

Rex is ready to leave Ray and Amaya for dead.  Later, we will be told of a connection between Rex and Amaya that I simply don't believe in, mostly because of moments like this.  They don't interact much while he is alive anyhow.  I have more qualms about Amaya's character, but I'll save those for later.  Stein hands over leadership to Sara, which is a great character choice, and even better for the show.  It was the first choice that convinced me that this show really was trying to change from what it was.  Good bye Rip!  It's Sara's turn.

'What do you think?  I'm going to escape using a microscope?'

Amaya and Ray get out and discover that the suit is bust.  Ray takes the super serum, which he has tampered with, to give himself super powers.  The gang are all here for another punch up.  It's mercifully short.  The fight sequence at least has more variety, with gun fights as well as punch ups, and even chase elements.  I don't hate fight scenes.  I hate visually boring fight scenes.  It's not boring when Nate appears on a motorcycle to save his Pops.  They still both get hit by a bomb, which is pretty dire for someone with hemophilia.  Apparently Gideon can't even help.  Gideon's medical ability is plot dependent.  Although, hemophilia is something that I could reasonably believe that she wouldn't be able to handle.  At least we know that we can regrow limbs.

Ray saves Nate by using his special serum, which is the start of a beautiful friendship.  Amaya praises Ray for it, which was nice of her.  Commander Steel and Nate have a real nice moment.  My favourite season, season four, plays off Nate's relationship with his dad so well.  They build off this relationship so nicely.

Anyway, Thawne arrives to kill Rex.  He says that he and Rex have been in battle for some time, and Rex at some point discovered his plan and stole the Waverider to stop the legends from coming.  That doesn't make a lick of sense to me.  Rex dies and only gets to warn Amaya that a time traveller did it.  Now the story really begins!  

I'm not that sad to see Rex go, which is the real shame.  His death propels Amaya for the whole season, and we barely knew him, or their relationship.  

[dragon-kazansky]

Shy smiles | Helmut Zemo

Requested by anon

Honestly, he was utterly in love with everything about you. You were so different to everyone else he knew. Much more shy. It was rather sweet actually.

It was obvious from the beginning. You found it hard to hold eye contact with him, became flustered when he approached you. He didn't push it though. Zemo was a gentleman, he wasn't going to put you into a situation you clearly weren't comfortable in. He introduced himself and let you be.

He could see you relax after he left. He smiled.

Zemo kept an eye on you. This job was going to require a lot meeting people and probably being shot at. The least he could do was make sure you didn't do anything you weren't happy doing.

You seemed to notice he was keeping an eye on you. He caught your shy glances, smirking everytime you saw him looking. You would turn away so quickly, looking embarrassed.

Though you were a little more comfortable in the company of Sam and Bucky, you still kept to yourself, and Zemo respected that.

When things got a bit rocky in Madripoor, Zemo came over to you.

"Stay close to me."

You nodded. You followed his lead, even followed him when he broke off from Sam and Bucky. That caught him by surprise. Still, he looked after you.

You weren't all that comfortable with going into Sharon's club. Zemo heard you tell Bucky you were staying behind. Out of ear shot, he pulled Bucky to the side.

"You go, I'll stay with Y/N."

Bucky was hesitant to allow that, but he also didn't want you to be alone here. He looked at the way Zemo was looking back at the apartment.

"Alright, but if you try anything, I'm punching you with my metal arm, got it?"

Zemo nodded, chuckling as he did. Bucky left him to join up with Sam. Zemo went back into the apartment.

You were sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you. You had a notepad out, doodling in it.

Zemo sat down in the empty space beside you. The movement startled you as you didn't see him come over. You assumed he had gone down to the party below.

"I apologise for scaring you."

You offered him a small smile. "It's fine."

"What are you drawing?" He nods at your book.

You hold it up so he can see what you were doing. The page was full of little doodles. A cartoon cat, a little flower, a little doodle of Bucky which made him chuckle.

"You're quite the little artist."

"Not really." You give a shrug and start doodling something else.

"You did quite well today."

You bite the inside of your cheek and glance very quickly at him.

"I just followed you."

"Still, you handled yourself quite well. I don't remember you from before, are you new to their group?"

"Kind of. I've known Sam a while. I kind of know who you are."

"Kind of?"

Zemo was beyond thrilled you were talking to him. You were focusing on your drawing, but at least you were talking to him.

"I heard about you. What you did."

"I see."

"I wasn't there when Sokovia fell. I saw it on the news. I'm sorry for your loss," you glanced at him again.

"Thank you."

He was still looking at you. You looked back down at your book again quickly. You moved your legs and got a bit more comfortable, shifting closer to Zemo, but not on purpose.

"Do you like it?" You showed him your book.

Zemo chuckles.

"Is that me?"

"Supposed to be."

A little cartoon Zemo, coat and all, was staring back at him. You were very good.

"I like it."

You smiled and put the book down. You took a deep breath, trying to summon some courage to look at him longer than 2 seconds. He was a very handsome man, you couldn't deny that. He made you feel a lot more shy than usual.

Having a crush on this man probably wasn't your wisest move, but you couldn't exactly take it back now.

You looked at him. He was still looking at you.

"You're really smart."

You cursed yourself for saying that. You felt so awkward and out of place. You really wanted to talk to him, but you just sounded silly.

"Thank you."

"I mean, it wasn't exactly cool what you did, splitting up the Avengers, but at the same time, you didn't even fight them, you got them to fight each other. That's insane!" You can't stop the words from tumbling out.

Zemo leans back against the sofa and smiles at you.

"You sound impressed."

"I kind of am, but also not."

"I don't blame you."

You bite your cheek again, wondering what else to say to him. You felt proud that you had managed to say most if that, but now you were in a predicament again.

Your could feel your heart racing.

It was as if, all of a sudden, you realised just how close you were to him now. You could smell his aftershave, hear his slight breaths, almost feel how close his hand was to your knee.

Your cheeks felt hot again. You looked down at your lap. You could feel his eyes on you again.

Damn it.

Did he know he was affecting you this way? Did the Baron know he was super handsome and was making you feel flustered?

You felt him tuck some hair behind your ear.

He chuckled softly.

"You're quite cute when you're shy."

You let out a small little noise. You're not sure if he heard it or not, but you definitely made a noise.

His fingers went from your ear to your cheek. The touch was soft. He wasn't wearing his gloves so you could feel the warmth of his skin. He was being so gentle with you.

You resist leaning into his touch. If anything, you're to embarrassed to do anything but turn away.

Your hear him chuckle.

Zemo drops his hand and shifts a little so he's more comfortable. You chance a glance. He looks a lot more relaxed now. His eyes are still on you. He was always looking at you.

Your poor heart couldn't handle that.

"I might... just go to bed." You stand up and gather your book. Zemo doesn't move. His eyes follow you as shuffle out of the room.

You hear him chuckle again before you leave.

Zemo remains sitting there, relaxed, feeling happy you spoke more than a few words to him. He wasn't blind, he knew exactly what effect he had over you. He was flattered. You were sweet, lovely, talented. He would happily spoil you rotten if he could.

He heard shuffling. You had only been gone less than 10 minutes. He smiled.

You shuffled back into the room with a blanket. You seemed almost startled to see him, as if you didn't expect him to still be there.

"Are you coming in?" He asks.

"I uh..."

He waves you over. You walk slowly, eyes on him, but not on his face. You can't look into his eyes for long, even though you want to. You sit down next to him and drape the blanket over your legs.

"I thought you were going to bed."

"I was... but then you would be alone," you mutter, hoping he wouldn't actually hear you.

He did.

He smiles. One arm drapes around the back of the sofa where you're sitting. Though he's not touching you, you can feel the presence of his hand hanging near your head.

You're trying so hard not to touch him.

"I don't mind the company," he says, speaking so softly.

You relax a little.

The silence that settles is nice. You can't think of anything to say to him, and though you expected it to be awkward, it wasn't. All you can hear is his gentle breathing and the slight shuffle of his clothes when adjusts his seating position.

It becomes a little hard to keep your eyes open. Zemo can see you trying. He doesn't want you staying up for his sake. His arm lowers to drape around your shoulders and pull you into his side.

All of a sudden you're feeling wide awake. Your head is resting on his shoulder, his arm tucked around you. Your heart was going crazy, you wondered if he could hear it.

"Sleep."

You swallow thickly. How could you possibly sleep now?

Yet, you felt ever so comfortable against him. Zemo was being so nice to you, though this wasn't helping the silly little crush you had developed on the man. There was so much wrong with this scenario, but this would probably be the only chance you got to be like this with him. Closing your eyes, you tried your best to relax.

Zemo was over the moon when you finally fell asleep. This meant you trusted him, at least enough to keep you safe.

He closed his eyes.

That's how Sam and Bucky found you both when they came back later that night. You fast asleep against Zemo, who had also fallen asleep at some point. The sight was strange to say the least, and though Bucky wanted to move you, Sam told him to leave you.

Zemo wasn't going to do anything. Not to you. Especially since you've let him in. Sam knew this was s big deal, and he was proud, despite it being with Zemo, that you had reached out to another person.

An unlikely friendship indeed.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406

[dootdootwriting]

AHHH CONGRATS ON 600!!! I hope you're doing well heehoo and if its okay can i ask for the whole alphabet with scaramouche?:3 (also pls don't overwork yourself jdjajdkdlfmmeis)

600+ event!!

this is my first time writing for scara so i hope i did okay aha,, under the cut for length!

fluff alphabet with scaramouche, gn reader, warning for inazuma quest/scaramouche backstory spoilers!!

why is his name so long

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

- scaramouche isn't super knowledgeable about relationships, so he'll just sort of tentatively ask what you want to do and go along with it (though he might act like it's a stupid idea the whole time). really he doesn't care what he spends his free time on as long as you're a part of it.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

- well first of all, he admires the courage you've got to have to be with him in the first place. other than that, he also loves your smile (but you won't hear him tell you that out loud, unless you're not really asleep when he thinks you are)

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

- another thing he's alien to. at first just starts telling you to calm down and is pretty harsh about it. when he realizes this isn't working, he'll reluctantly take you into his arms and start awkwardly patting your head. it's funny how awkward it is and you end up laughing at him about it, which makes him annoyed, but at least now you feel better.

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

- scaramouche... either wants you to be by his side as he conquers everything and shows the world just how strong he is, or he wants to do it alone. though it would be much better if you were with him and it makes him sad to think about you not being there in the end.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

- surprisingly passive, actually. he doesn't really know what he's doing so he lets you make most of the decisions about dates and spending time together. other than that though, he likes to drag you around to do whatever he wants.

F-Fun (what do they do for fun with their s/o? what’s their idea of a fun day out?)

- what's fun? on a day off, scaramouche will wander around and ponder his own existence. you'll have to take him to a market or a park or something so he can actually experience things first - once you do, you'll find he enjoys being alone with you somewhere quiet, where he doesn't have to listen to other people.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

- doesn't show it, but is definitely grateful, though he also doesn't know just how much of a hassle he can be. scaramouche just sort of assumed love was supposed to be unconditional... but he can tell when he's crossed a line, and he's grateful for you sticking by him despite everything.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

- obviously the one big secret is how he came into being in the first place, but once he trusts you enough to tell you about his being a puppet and a test, he's in all the way. he hides little things from you before that but once he's told you, you're in it with him forever whether you like it or not, and that means he doesn't keep anything else from you.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

- he's a lot more tolerable around you! you've been approached by fatui officers asking you "how do you do it?" and saying things like "thank you so much i totally thought i was gonna be yelled at today!" somehow you cool off his temper a bit.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

- JEALOUS JEALOUS JEALOUS man. he gets jealous so so easily and WILL confront you about it. after a while and once he knows he can trust you he gets jealous less frequently, because he knows you're with him for the long run.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

- bad kisser at first because he's probably never been in love before. he gets the hang of it quickly though! your first kiss was because he had to shut you up and he couldn't figure out another way how so he just kissed you. you yelled at him after that.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

- scaramouche confesses on purpose but in a really weird way. he plans it and everything - he takes you out to see the sunset and brings food (almost like a picnic) but then once he gets to the actual confession it's just like "how dare you do this to me? i stay awake at night thinking of you and somehow you're the most tolerable person i've ever met. childe had the audacity to call it love and to laugh at me so he got what he deserved. if you don't feel the same way i'll punch you too." but he doesn't end up having to punch you, which you're both very glad about.

M-Mornings (what’s it like waking up with them? do they sleep late or wake up before the sun rises?)

- he didn't have a reason to sleep in late until he started sleeping next to you. now he's stuck in his ridiculous sleep schedule so he always wakes up before you. but hey! bonus! now he gets to look at you while you sleep, which for some reason makes him extremely flustered (which is really cute to wake up to).

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

- just calls you your name 🧍

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

- when he discovered he was in love he got angry at you. then he realized it wasn't your fault, and, actually, this wasn't such a bad thing. man were you confused though. for a solid week he just yelled at you for no reason. childe guessed correctly when he realized scaramouche's more-unusual-than-usual behavior, but he had the decency to hold his tongue around you.

P-PDA (how are they with PDA? is it fun to them or are they more reserved with their affection?)

- hates pda. will hold your hand and that's it if you try to kiss him in public his face will scrunch up and his ears will pull back instinctively. then he'll avoid you for the rest of the day.

Q-Quirk (some random thing they do when they’re with you for no reason in particular)

- gently taps you at random moments, almost as if he's trying to remind himself that you're here with him.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

- scaramouche tries to be romantic? he's doing his best. he tries all the gooey stuff to make you happy like buying you chocolate and giving you stuffed animals but in reality he has little to no tolerance for this kind of thing and you have to reassure him you love him, not the classic romantic things he forces himself to do. after that he stops, which is a huge relief.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

- he's more focused on his own goals and climbing the fatui ladder, but he's also very invested in anything you're attempting to do. wholeheartedly believes in you, whether he outwardly expresses it or not.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

- scaramouche likes the security of his routine and the place your relationship is at. he gets embarrassed at pretty much any new milestone and needs some time to get to them, and he gets cranky when things change suddenly, so uh. no, he likes it better the way it is with little to no changes.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

- not very empathetic, but is very understanding. scaramouche lacks the ability to feel how you're feeling (is it because he isn't quite human?), but he does understand how you work and function, and the best ways to treat you depending on your mood.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?).

- since you're so important to him, you're about number two on his list of priorities, maybe almost tied with his work in the fatui. he can't stand people, but you've wormed your way into his heart, so he's not letting you go anytime soon.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

- any time you give him affection he's a little startled at first, but he comes to love it and eventually will ask you for hugs.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

- yes but ONLY behind closed doors. he's afraid if he so much as looks at you lovingly his underlings will laugh at him, and he definitely can't have that. when you two are alone, however, he absolutely cannot get enough of your touch.

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

- angry angry angry and makes it everyone's problem. when you get back from your trip the mood is dark and agents are running up to you like you're their savior "OH GOD YOU'RE BACK THANK EVERYTHING PLEASE SAVE US."

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

- he would literally kill for you (please tell him not to)

[quickspinner]

Neighborly

I had a bad case of writers block and rabbit brain trying to work on my wips yesterday, so I went and dug through my prompt lists, sat down with the sprint timer, and scrawled out this little bit of nonsense. I'm not sure about the final result but it broke the block, and I figured I might as well share it, so I hope you enjoy!

AO3

Rating: T

Marinette's been crushing on her cute neighbor for weeks, but she's never gotten the courage to speak more than a few flustered words to him. Now it might be too late--he's at her door begging for the use of her shower to get ready for his big date.

Marinette stared at the man standing at her door. 

“I’m sorry?” she said faintly, and the man smiled at her. That didn’t help the situation at all, as it made her knees wobbly. 

“Weird ask, I know,” he said, ruffling a hand through his blue-tinted hair. “It’s just that I’m supposed to have a date tonight and my shower’s been out for two days. Maintenance has quit answering my calls and I’m getting desperate. I really like this girl and I don’t want to give the wrong impression.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, voice still weak, and then she plastered a plastic smile on her face. “O-of course you can! What are neighbors for, right? Um—” 

“Luka,” he supplied, still smiling. Marinette already knew that, of course. She knew an embarrassing amount of information about this man, considering they had only spoken in passing. The first time, he’d caught her when her shoe had broken in the hallway, and she’d pitched straight into him somehow managing to stop her fall and haul her back upright against him with only one strong arm. He hadn’t even lost the groceries he’d been carrying in the other. He’d smiled at her and told her to be careful with that soft velvet voice and she’d looked up into blue eyes that seemed far too gentle for his handsome, angular face and— 

Marinette suddenly realized it was her turn to talk and that she was taking too long. “Um M-Marinette, I’m. I’m Marinette,” she stammered.  

“Nice to finally officially meet you Marinette,” Luka said easily, as if she wasn’t the most awkward person he’d ever spoken to, as if she hadn’t run away from him after a few awkward words every time they’d bumped into each other—literally or otherwise. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll pop back over and grab my things, and be back in a few minutes?”

“Oh, um. Y-yeah, yeah, of course,” she babbled, and he turned away, raising a hand slightly. 

“Great, I’ll be back in a few then.” 

Marinette shut the door numbly, and then walked over to her couch and buried her face in a pillow. She screamed, kicking her feet, and then tossed the pillow away, moaning as she dragged her hands down her face. 

It wasn’t enough that the super hot musician with gorgeous shoulders and dreamy eyes was coming over to use her shower. He had to need her shower because he had a date . Marinette wanted to be his date! She’d been half-stalking him trying to work up the courage—well. Not really stalking him, just...observing. She just noticed things, that was all, like how he had a smile and a question for everybody, the way he fed the stray cats that lived behind the building, and always held open doors no matter who was behind him, and how hard his chest was beneath the baggy layers he wore, and—oh, that chest was going to be in her bathroom and—her bathroom! 

Marinette’s eyes flew wide and she nearly tripped over her own feet, flinging herself off the couch, running to the bathroom to grab anything too girly or potentially embarrassing and shove it under the sink. Fortunately her bathroom wasn’t dirty (she wasn’t an animal after all), just cluttered, and she frantically grabbed the underthings she’d draped over the shower rod to dry and ran them to her room, shoving them frantically under her pillow before going back to make absolutely sure she hadn’t missed any or left anything embarrassing. She put a clean towel on the rack and threw the dirty one over her arm and triple-checked to make sure there was no hair in the shower drain. She heard the knock on the door and jerked up, banging her head on the faucet of the tub. She yelped, dizzy with the pain for a moment. 

“Marinette?” Luka called, as she tried to extract herself from the bathtub with one hand clutched to her scalp. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her; that hurt. 

“Are you all right?” Luka asked, and Marinette whirled around wide-eyed to find him standing in the bathroom doorway. “I heard you yell and I let myself in, I hope that’s okay. Did you hurt yourself? Are you bleeding?” He dropped the backpack slung over his shoulder onto the floor and came over to her, gently tugging her hand away from her head. 

“I don’t think so,” Marinette gritted. “I was just...trying to clean up a bit, and…” She gestured at the faucet and Luka winced in sympathy.

“Ouch,” he muttered as he parted her hair with gentle fingers. He was so nice, Marinette mourned. Although...he did smell like he needed that shower. She held her breath and tried not to make a face. “It looks okay,” he said, stepping back away from her. “You didn’t have to clean for me.” 

Marinette gave an embarrassed shrug. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked dryly, and blushed when Luka laughed.

“Probably,” he conceded with a grin. “Thanks. I really didn’t mean to put you to inconvenience.”

“It’s no big deal,” Marinette said, finally mustering a smile. “Besides, how could I leave you in the lurch? Big date and all. I don’t need any more bad karma on my dating life.” 

Luka’s eyebrows rose, and Marinette flushed, cursing her stupid mouth that never shut up when it should. “So I’ll, um—” she gestured behind Luka to the door, “get out of here, so you can. You know.” 

“Oh, sorry.” Luka moved out of her way, pressing himself against the sink, and Marinette squeezed past him and out of the door. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

“This girl must be something special,” Marinette smiled as she backed into the small hallway. “For you to go to all this trouble instead of rescheduling.”

“She is,” Luka grinned. “She’s amazing. I think so, anyway. I don’t know her very well yet, but she’s awfully sweet and super cute.” The grin on his face turned a little goofy. “I’ve been smitten since I met her, honestly.” 

“Oh,” Marinette kept her smile in place, trying to ignore the cold feeling in her stomach. “Oh, that’s really sweet. Um, well I don’t want to make you late, so I’ll just...music! I’ll go turn on some music.” That way she wouldn’t hear the incredibly cute soon-to-be-naked boy in her bathroom. “Um, take your time, let me know if you need anything.”

Luka’s grin widened a little. “Thanks Marinette.” He shut the door, and Marinette marched herself back to the living room to scream into another pillow. 

After a few deep breaths and a lot of nervous fumbling, she got her music player running. Jagged Stone should be enough, right? Loud enough to cover—she heard the curtain rings slide across the rod. The shower started running and Luka’s deep sigh of relief. Poor guy , she thought, he must have been miserable . She put the music player on and sat for a moment, chewing her thumbnail nervously. 

After a few minutes she sat up straighter, listening. Was that—over the sound of the running water and Jagged Stone wailing through her sound system, she heard another voice. Luka was...singing? He was singing along with the song that was playing. Marinette giggled, and moved to the other end of the couch, listening. He had a nice voice, she thought wistfully. She’d seen him with a guitar on his back in the halls. She wondered if some of the music she occasionally heard through his door in the hall was music he made, rather than the radio as she’d assumed. 

She flopped on the arm of the couch and groaned. He was so cool, and she was such a disaster. She would have never been brave enough to ask to use a stranger’s shower, no matter how miserable and disgusting she was. 

Poor guy , she thought again. He must have been really desperate.

She sat up, and picked up her phone, looking at it in her hands. Maybe she could...well, it might be stupid but it couldn’t hurt to just ask, right?

Marinette dialed the building maintenance number. “Hi Pierre,” she chirped brightly when the grumpy old technician picked up the phone. “It’s Marinette in 34 B? How are you doing? 

“Miss Marinette!” The gruff tone softened. “I’m doing well, doing well. Tickets lined up like crazy, though. Everything seems to be breaking at once these days.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Marinette said, putting on a tone of great sympathy. “Maybe I shouldn’t bother you then—”

“Now, now, none of that. What can I do for you?” 

“It’s not actually me,” Marinette said, “It’s my neighbor across the hall, Luka? His shower’s been out for a while now and he came over tonight to see if he could use mine—”

“What?” barked old Pierre, and Marinette grinned to herself. “That punk with the piercings? You shouldn’t be letting him traipse through your apartment Miss Marinette. Guys like that always try to take advantage.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that,” Marinette said innocently. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything like that. I was calling to see when his shower might be fixed, but if you’re so busy, maybe I should just give him my spare key so he can—”

“No, no,” Pierre said quickly. “I’ve got his ticket right here, see, he was next on the list. His shower will be fixed tomorrow, so don’t be making any foolish offers Miss Marinette. You’re too nice for your own good, you know.” 

“Oh, it never hurts to be nice, Pierre,” Marinette giggled. “I’m planning on making some chocolate chip scones tomorrow to take to a friend, so if you do come to fix Luka’s shower, stop on by, I’ll save a few of them for you.”

“Well, I’ll stop by if I have time,” Pierre said gruffly. “Not that sweets are much to a man my age, but if you made them…” 

“Great, I hope I’ll see you!” Marinette giggled. “Thanks so much Pierre, you’re an angel.” She hung up, grinning to herself.

“I can’t believe it. You’re magic.” 

Marinette jumped half out of her skin and whirled around. Luka grinned at her sheepishly, but she hardly noticed, because while he was wearing pants—a different, more fitted pair than what he’d had on when he arrived—his torso was bare, and her fluffy pink towel hung around his shoulders, catching only most of the drips falling from his blue hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, and I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just wanted to ask if you had a hair dryer I can borrow. I forgot to grab mine.” 

“Oh, um, sure,” Marinette said, jumping up. “I’ll just...I’ll get it, if that’s okay.” She blushed, thinking of all the things she had shoved in the cabinet before he came. 

“Sure.” Luka moved back out of her way, and she shimmied past him into the bathroom. She blinked a moment at the amount of paraphernalia spread on her counter. She’d never thought guys used that much product, but she shook herself and bent over to dig in the cabinet, trying to block it with her body so Luka couldn’t see inside. It took some effort to find the hair dryer, which had been shoved against the back of the cabinet in her frenzied tidying, but by some miracle she extracted it without dumping all of the piled up junk onto the floor. Sighing in relief, she straightened and turned. “Got it!” 

Luka was looking at the ceiling. His darkly tanned skin was flushed from the hot shower and the line of his neck made her swallow. “Luka?” she repeated, trying not to squeak. 

His dropped his gaze back to her, and she froze under the intensity in that look for a moment. Then he blinked and smiled, softening, and Marinette felt she could move again. She offered him the hair dryer and he took it. “Thanks, Marinette,” he said. “And thanks for getting Pierre’s ass in gear. He hates me, so I figured it’d be a week at least before I could get him to come out.” 

“Oh, that.” Marinette shrugged, and grinned mischievously. “I have a lot of experience dealing with grouchy old men.” She winked, and to her mild surprise, the color in Luka’s cheeks deepened. He cleared his throat. 

“Well, thanks for making the effort, I really appreciate it.” 

“Why does he hate you?” Marinette frowned, as Luka’s words caught up to her. 

Luka nodded vaguely in the direction of the back of the building. “We got into it over me feeding the strays. He was nattering on about disease and just breeding more and blah, blah, blah.” Luka rolled his eyes. “If he’d actually listen for five minutes...anyway, I have a friend, the blond that was with me that one time, you remember? He runs a trap-and-release program for feral cats, gets them vaccinated and fixed and all that and then lets them back out into their home territory. The cats behind our building are probably as safe as your average indoor cat, in terms of disease.” 

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, awed. “That’s really cool.” 

Luka grinned. “He’s pretty passionate about it. He did all the real work, trapping and transport and all that. I just make sure they have a good meal. May I?” He gestured towards the sink, and Marinette jumped.

“Oh, of course, please. I’m sorry, I’m going to make you late with all this chattering—” Marinette babbled as she and Luka did a slightly awkward dance to let him in and her out of the bathroom. He smelled much better now, she noticed giddily as they had to squeeze together. She only barely managed not to squeal when he took her arm lightly to guide her around him. 

“By the way,” he called once she was out, and she glanced back to see him unscrewing the lid on one of the sink jars. “Do you have any suggestions for good places to eat close by?” He looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. “I’m always looking to try new things.” 

“U-um—” Finding it hard to think while staring at his bare back, Marinette turned away and tapped a finger to her lips in thought. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything,” Luka replied, running fingers coated in some kind of gel through his hair. “I like all kinds of things.”

“What does she like?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Luka admitted. 

Marinette considered. “Well, my favorite is this Italian place about two blocks down, but Italian is chancy on a first date. Messy, you know. She might not be comfortable.” Marinette raised her voice as Luka turned on the hair dryer. “There’s an Indian place that’s a little farther away, and there’s a really cute little patisserie right next to it, that could be romantic. Oh, and there’s a park right there, if you feel like a nighttime stroll.” She frowned. “You didn’t already figure this stuff out?”

“I’m not really a planner,” Luka laughed, his deep voice carrying easily even over the noise of the dryer. “I had some ideas, but sometimes the universe throws you an Indian place and a cute patisserie, with a moonlight stroll in the bargain.” He winked at Marinette. “It pays to keep an open mind.” 

Marinette started to smile, and then remembered she was helping him plan a date with someone else, and turned away again. “Okay, well, you’ll have to let me know how it goes,” she said quickly as she went down the hallway. Her eyes were stinging and she took a deep breath as she blinked. Stupid , she scolded herself. She didn’t even know him, because just like always she’d never found the guts to actually talk to him, besides a hello and good night! and one very rushed um, cat food was on sale and I noticed it was the brand you buy so...here! SEEYOULATERBYE! He was her neighbor and she hadn’t even asked his name before today, only seen it on the mail that had been misdelivered to her box instead of his. All she had was little stolen scraps, because she hadn’t been brave enough to ask for more.

Ugh she was such a loser, it was no wonder Luka had never even—well, he had said a word to her, actually. Words like Are you all right? and Can I help you with that? and Wow, thanks, that’s so cool of you . Because he was sweet and nice as well as good looking, and if she’d had any guts at all maybe she could have— 

“Marinette?” 

She whirled, and Luka was standing there, his bag at his feet, closing the last two buttons of a black dress shirt. “Are you all right?” he asked as he began rolling the sleeves up to bare his forearms. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” 

“What? No, of course not.” Marinette clamped her teeth down on her tongue before she could blurt something like I have shirtless men in my home all the time . Luka was looking at her with a slightly furrowed brow.  

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should have gone back to my place to finish up, I wasn’t—I mean I didn’t mean to impose or anything.” 

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then gave him a genuine smile. “You didn’t. Really, Luka, I wasn’t bothered. I just, um. I got emotional about something for a moment there, but it wasn’t your fault.” 

Luka nodded. “Something about bad dating karma?” he guessed, voice so gentle it made her ache. 

“More or less.” Marinette tried to smile.

“Well,” Luka sighed, finishing the second sleeve. “Honestly I haven’t been too lucky in that department myself. I was hoping tonight would change that, but...maybe...maybe it isn’t the best time after all.” 

“What?” Marinette cried, staring at him. “Why? Luka, you seemed like you liked this girl so much, and you’re all dressed up.” She stepped to him and adjusted the set of his collar without thinking. “You look so good, it’ll be great. She won’t be able to resist you. Believe me, I know it’s scary to put yourself out there, but won’t you regret it if you don’t?” I do .  

Luka caught her wrists gently. “Yeah, I really think I would.” He grinned. “Now I just need to ask her.” 

Marinette blinked up at him. “You didn’t ask her?” she asked, bewildered. “Isn’t it going to be kind of short notice?” She frowned. “You said you had a date tonight.” 

Luka dipped his head in a kinda-sorta motion. “I said I was supposed to have a date tonight,” he chuckled. “And I would have—or at least I hope so—if I’d asked you out two days ago when I planned. But then I got home from work and of course I was sweaty and gross and then my shower wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t talk to you while I was disgusting. Not when you’re always so pretty and neat and put together.” 

Marinette’s cheeks flushed. 

“And then Pierre didn’t show and he didn’t show and he didn’t show,” Luka rolled his eyes. “And if I didn’t ask you out today, I’d owe my buddy that runs the cat rescue my favorite signed Jagged Stone album. He’s been bugging me about asking you out for like a month.” He grinned. “Ever since you brought me the cat food? He could see how much I liked you and he decided then and there we were meant to be, and somehow I let him talk me into this stupid—bet or dare or whatever, that if I didn’t man up by today...well. I would’ve asked you anyway one way or another.” 

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she was sure her face must be on fire.

“So, now that I’m presentable,” Luka grinned slowly. “Will you go out to dinner with me tonight? I heard about this really good Indian place. Maybe afterwards we could grab dessert and take a walk in the park? I’d really like to get to know you better.” 

Marinette gasped, and then her lips pursed into a pout. Luka laughed. “You’re mean,” she told him, kicking his shin lightly.

Luka’s shoulders hunched a little, and he looked guilty. “I didn’t mean to be. I’m sorry for teasing.” He blushed. “I guess I was nerving myself up a bit, telling you how much I liked you without you knowing, but I didn’t think about how it would come across. I didn’t mean to upset you. No pressure, okay?” He slid his hands from her wrists to her hands and lowered them between them. “If you don’t want to, no hard feelings. Just, like you said. I’d regret it if I didn’t try.” 

“But—” Marinette let go of his hands as her own flew to her hair. “I’m not dressed for a date!” 

Luka chuckled. “You look gorgeous to me. But I can wait if you want to change.” 

Marinette reddened. “I—w-well, I mean...I mean I guess we could—” Luka laid a finger on her lips.

“Breathe,” he told her, clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re really cute, you know that?”  

That didn’t help her efforts to calm down, but she did manage to breathe, despite the very distracting slide of his finger as it left her lips. “Fine,” she said finally. “But you better be prepared because I’m going all out for our second date.” 

Luka’s grin went wide and bright and more than a little silly. “I can’t wait.”   

ETA:  Okay, yes, I know this was a bit mean for Marinette. I did actually really waffle about it while I was writing it and I almost scrapped it a couple times, but the whole point of the timer is to keep me on task and stop the second guessing and overthinking that was sabotaging me, so I ran with it. I did ultimately decide to keep it because really, they haven't had a chance to really talk or anything here, and so Luka doesn't really know that Marinette's into him. He's aware there's some attraction between them, but he doesn't know how hard she's crushing. So really, he's just a bit insecure himself and psyching himself up a bit for The Moment. So I justify it to myself anyway. As soon as he's able to actually take in her mood he's aware he's messed up. If you can't forgive him, that's okay. Mari will get him back later.

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