#reminds me of the weirdo i saw on here claiming to be a man that wears the hijab bc men apparently do that in islam lmfao

[mithliya]

have you seen those tiktoks where there’s a muslim tif going “how i style my hijab based on my gender as a genderfluid person”. like okay, but the reason you have to wear hijab in the first place is because you’re female. (i’m saying this as a culturally muslim female myself)

scream… “based on my gender” and yet you’re wearing an article of clothing specifically for women

[darlingbabyboo]

"You're Something Else... "

♡ Synopsis: Megumi had been (sorta) prepared to live with this white weirdo who claimed to be the strongest... what he hadn't been prepared for was his daughter.

♡ Content: Reader is described as a girl and shorter than Megumi and Tsumiki and tiny because I'm tiny, black reader, good dad Gojo, Megumi is deeply repressed

♡ Notes: This is from the vote! Where people said they wanted Megumi x Gojo's Daughter instead of Giyuu x Urokodaki Daughter! Hope you enjoy 😘 Just say smth if I should make a part 2

♡ Inspiration: @ketsuyuki-hibana-typed! Their series Rengoku x Little Sister Figure is so good!

So Megumi was less than excited to live with Gojo (could not be me but this ain't about me so...)

He was only doing this so Tsumiki wouldn't have to suffer under the Zenin's

He was expected more or less of the same thing

Just him and Tsumiki living in a house, being forced to take care of themselves

Yippee

That's why he was so surprised to find you

"And you two, say hi to your other housemate!" The white haired weirdo cheerfully exclaimed

Megumi looked at you with wide eyes, you were hiding behind the tall man's legs and shaking like you were forced to be here

He wouldn't be surprised if you were

"C'mon honey bun, you gotta introduce yourself, you'll be sharing a home with these guys."

He removed you from his leg and squatted so that he was at his level

"Introduce yourself!"

You give a shy wave, curled in on yourself. You say your name through stutters and when you're done, you bury yourself into the weirdo's chest

Gojo smiles at them, stroking your back

"She's a little shy-"

A little, Megumi thinks

"-you two introduce yourself too! Don't be shy!"

"I'm Tsumiki!" His sister happily says besides him, like you're not shivering even if it's spring. "It's really nice to meet you!"

You remove yourself from Gojo a little to give her a small nod before burying yourself in Gojo's chest again

Megumi doesn't say his name, he observes (what he can when you're buried in Gojo's chest). You look nothing like him. He wonders if you've also been kidnapped taken in by Gojo

Does the freak have a habit of taking young children?

You look younger than him, though maybe it's because you're so small. You remind him of a mouse, especially with how much you were stuttering

He certainly hasn't seen someone like you before, maybe it's because of how sheltered he is, but you're different

Your skin is darker then what he's seen before, but the difference makes you even prettier. Your skin makes you glow in the sunlight, like some sort of angel

His stomach twists, even with how little he saw of your appearance, you're beautiful

"Aw are you already smitten with my little girl."

His face burns, "no!" He regrets staring so long when you bury yourself even deeper into the older man's arms, your embarrassment making his worse

Gojo waves off his words, "honey bun, this is Megu-chan, your first suitor!"

"Don't call me Megu-chan." He mutters, not bothering to clear up the other statement when the man is rambling something about your 'love story'. He looks up, sparing another glance at you.

You've removed yourself from Gojo a little, your brown eyes making contact with his blue ones.

Simultaneously, you both hide your faces

It's four people in the house but to be honest, it feels more like two

Usually, Gojo is out settling clan business or off on a mission, it's different than before though, Gojo's not neglectful, always making sure they have double of what they need and bathing them in nice comments

And he usually makes it home by dinner

It's honestly really nice (but never tell Gojo he said that)

The reason you don't count though is that you're really...

Quiet

He doesn't even know if that's the right description of you, you're almost like a ghost

The few times that he has laid his eyes on you, you disappear faster than he can blink

Usually, he would assume it's a him problem, but Tsumiki faces the same issues

"Do you think she hates us?" Tsumiki says one day, fiddling with her fingers.

Somehow, it makes him feel better that Tsumiki has the same struggles.

He shrugs, "I don't know, I thought she was mute, but she introduced herself fine the first time so..."

Tsumiki nods in agreement, she moves from playing with her fingers to playing with her hair, "I hope she doesn't hate us, she seems so nice."

"How would you know?" He mutters, "she doesn't even say anything to us."

Tsumiki frowns, opening her mouth to argues but then closes it in thought, "you have a point..." She reluctantly concedes.

Somehow, the win doesn't make him feel better, stomach twisting at the thought of you not liking them.

Of you not liking him

But one fateful day changes everything

"H-hello." You stutter out, looking at the two of them with wide eyes. Their eyes move from the TV screen to your surprising declaration.

Tsumiki eyes bulge out but she snaps her mouth shut out of fear of scaring you away. Megumi hopes that he doesn't share his sister's surprised look (which makes her look like a fish gasping for breath), forcing himself to remain calm.

He doesn't think he's heard your voice since Gojo introduced you all.

"D-dad won't be coming home today...a-and he said we could order food," You bite your lip, "d-do you guys want pizza?"

Tsumiki nods so quickly that he's scared her nose might start bleeding, "that sounds wonderful!"

When your eyes fall to him, he gives a simple nod. "That sounds really good."

You relax, and Megumi didn't notice how tense you were at the thought of a disagreement.

You poke your fingers through a hole in your shirt. "...C-can one of you order for us?"

Tsumiki shoots up, "I can!" She volunteers, already rushing to grab the landline.

You watch her with relief, and Megumi can already see the cogs in your head turning, you thinking about going back to your room.

He doesn't want you to go

"Do you wanna watch a movie with us?" He blurts out.

You jump at the words, surprise evident on your face. You point to yourself as if to ask Me?

He nods, looking away with embarrassment from how red his face is turning, "yeah, it would be nice to talk to you..."

When you don't respond, he looks to you and god he wishes he hadn't.

You're smiling, a smile that lights you up. Gone is the usual worry on your, eyes soft with joy and crinkled because of how wide your grin is

You're beautiful

"Okay..." You respond, softly, "I-i would like that."

He nods absentmindedly, aware that he's staring but he's under a spell, he doesn't know how to look away.

"Do you guys want garlic knots?" Tsumiki yells from the other room.

"Y-yes please!" You respond back, voice soft even when raised.

You turn back to Megumi and award him with another smile, "I-i need t-to call my dad really quick-- b-but I'll come back to watch the movie with you guys!"

He watches you go, butterflies in his stomach.

He buries his face in his hands.

Oh god

He has a crush

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <PROLOGUE SIDE-A: Still blank> 000-A05 The man who sells flowers

A translation of 18TRIP's PROLOGUE SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

(Kafka’s voice)

07/01, 1st of July—  I snuck out of the hospital. 

The first trip in my life… 

As promised, Kaede-chan took me with him.

My heart was beating as fast as it could… Whether Kaede-chan felt this excitement through our intertwined hands—it was all I could think about at first.

I’m sure that I'll never, ever forget about the trip I took today. 

The sights I saw, the food I ate, the people I met… the smells, sounds and colors— the warmth of holding Kaede-chan’s hand.

This is what a trip is—an unforgettable experience that etches itself within your heart.

That’s why I thought of something. One day, I… as the 0th Ward Mayor of HAMA… I want to be the one giving hospitality to all the tourists that come here—

Kaede: I knew it…it’s a voice memo from when I secretly took him with me out of the hospital, and we went sightseeing around HAMA together.

Kaede: (Kafka, you really… held that trip close to your heart.)

Sakujiro: One day as a Tourism Ward Mayor, he says. As you would expect from the son meant to inherit the 0th ward  governing over HAMA-18…. harboring such noble ambitions since his boyhood.   

Sakujiro: Anyhow, currently we must locate the Young Master posthaste. For the sake of conducting the search as efficiently as possible, I suggest we operate individually.

Kaede: Yeah, I agree. Then I’ll be—

Kaede: (I don’t believe Kafka left that cassette lying around without any thought.)

Kaede: (I thought to trace back my steps following the route planner I made for Kafka that day, but…)

Kaede: I made that plan while super excited, so the scope of it was huge. I want to find him as soon as possible, though… 

(Kaede bumps into something)

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Huhn~? Didya just like, bump into my shoulder?

Kaede: Ah, sorry.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Haaah!? Ya bumped into him and that’s it!? You hit his shoulder, yanno!? Are all fellas from HAMA just a buncha rude asses or what!

Kaede: No, uh…

Kaede: (I messed up… Because of this area becoming desolate, a bunch of weirdo delinquents started gathering around here, or something along those lines.)

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Y’know, we really went outta our way and took two whole ass hours to come here! All the way down to HAMA! 

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: To beat the ever living shit out of other dudes!

Both delinquents A & B: Gyahahaha!

Kaede: Picking fights… why would you…?

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Get with the times, old man. Nowadays every goddamn place is on full lockdown by security robots, ain’t no room for the baddies to stand out.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Going off that, HAMA’s management is in freaking shambles, which is why big cat right here can claim the whole sidewalk for himself with his big ass shoulders.

Kaede: (They’re saying some awful things…)

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Which leads us back to this, so c’mon, hand it over. The thing you pull out when you've pulverized someone else’s shoulder.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Reparations, to be clear.

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Hand it over, scoundrel.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Reminder that cops don’t bother with civil affairs, scalawag.

Kaede: Um… I’m a little bit tight on cash…

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Don’tcha get all stingy on me! Look, look, electronic payments are where it’s at. Which one’s your main?

Kaede: No, I’m not…!

Man selling flowers: Excuse me~ ….Don’t you want to buy a flower?

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Haaah?

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Where’s this fella suddenly popping up from.

Man selling flowers: Money is accepted through most electronic payment services.

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Wha… what’cha yapping about there!

Man selling flowers: Do you have a favorite flower? Even if only by color… Ah, actually I can provide assistance by reverse searching flower language based on your favorite word and pick one out like that too.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Flower language? I ain’t bilingual!

Man selling flowers: Let’s see… my recommendation for you two would be…

Man selling flowers: This, here—would you like an amaryllis.

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Hell no, don’t want it!

Man selling flowers: Is that so… then…

Man selling flowers: Muscari?

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Just straight up no! It ain’t like we want any other kinda flower! We don’t want flowers in general!

Man selling flowers: My last resort then. Coming down to my precious savings…

Kaede: (H-he pulled out a horsetail out of his pocket…!?)

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: Haaah? What’s with that grass thingie…

Man selling flowers: I was keeping this to use it for dinner later. The price tag is at 0, so no need to thank me either.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: I lost the plot… 

Delinquent of amazingly short height A: L-let’s bounce.

Delinquent with dangerously low pants B: Right, let’s get outta here.

Man selling flowers: HAMA nice trip.

Kaede: (A-amazing. He chased off delinquents with a horsetail. More importantly…)

Kaede: Um, that right now…

Man selling flowers: Hm? What?

Kaede: HAMA nice trip… is what you said, right?

Man selling flowers: Yea. I did. It’s a greeting for when tourists come to HAMA. I came up with it. 

Man selling flowers: But, it never ended up sticking. Use it too if you’d like. 

Kaede: Y-yes. It’s a nice saying… 

Kaede: Ah, that’s right! Thank you so much for saving me!

Man selling flowers: It’s not like I did that much. If anything, it seems like it’s going to rain later.

Kaede: Rain? What do you–

Kaede: …Huh? Is that…

Kaede: I knew it… A page from the sightseeing guide I made for Kafka in the past. It’s a copy but… what’s it doing here?

(Guide page)

Let’s improve the economy with inbound tourism (※foreigners traveling to Japan)!

With this, it has been decided that Yokohama’s “Chinatown” will be the most important tourist attraction, based on the concept the country came up with. 

They hit the jackpot with this idea, so Chinatown’s attracting huge crowds! Our recommendation is to enjoy some high quality siu mai! 

Kaede: (---Aah, that’s right. Back then, HAMA was in its heyday, full of life and people wherever you went…) 

Person from Chinatown A: Oh my oh my, such little customers! Did you come here together?

Person from Chinatown B: Oi, you lil’ rascals over there! Have a bite of this! Don’t need no money, it’s just a sample!

Person from Chinatown C: Are you perhaps lost? Where would you like to go… Aah, in that case, it’s opposite direction of the station. Right over there, follow me!

Kaede: (All kinds of people treated us with such kindness… And that wasn’t just because we were two little kids out and about.)

Kaede: (At least, back then, it wasn’t as deteriorated as it is now…)

Kaede: ….All of it has changed.

Man selling flowers: Uuum, you okay?

Kaede: Ah, sorry. I was lost in thought there…

Man selling flowers: Anywhere you wanna go? I got a bike, so I can bring you if it isn’t far.

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

prologue directory: A01 / A02 / A03 / A04 / A05 (x) / A06 / A07 / A08

[berryunho]

Not you and Bee updating your fics the same day when just yesterday I was going through both fics again because I missed them dearly. You people are gonna kill me, the adrenaline that shot through me hit so hard when I saw The Answer and Wonderwall had updated that I almost spooked myself and fell from my bed.

Anyways HELLO! Good to see you again <3

Hope you're having a good 2024 so far.

Here we go on another one of my unnecessarily long ass comments about the fic, sure hope I haven't overstayed my welcome with them just yet lmao (let me know if I do end up overdoing it at some point please, I will gladly tone it down if it becomes a problem).

FIRST OF ALL: I THINK I'M GOING INSANE.

Maybe its the hj brainrot that I've been stuck on for the last few months, maybe it's the fact that the ateez hyperfixation is hitting harder than usual since the comeback but him throwing a tantrum yelling "you will not take her from me"? Butterflies. Got me giggling and kicking my feet. I was rolling around on my bed as I read that.

Maybe it's the absence making the heart grow fonder and all that.

That being said, my misplaced fondness for this clown did die down once he hit us with the whole "she should be begging me for her life", if the cult thing wasn't enough of an ick I guess that did the job. Like, sir you had me for a sec there with the possessiveness (*tucks my hair like debbie ryan*) why did you have to remind me of your actual personality?

But yeah, catch me slowly being dragged down against my will to join the TheAnswer!HJ simps, though I guess that's what's gonna happen to mc soon enough too, I really am along for the ride with her. Me and mc peering down the edge into the abyss where they lay, the abyss stares right back at us. Damn. People are right, we are not immune to cult propaganda. Tragic.

I really wanted to point out that this chapter had me extra paranoid than the last one tbh, you mentioned in the notes that this was shorter and that you felt like it was lackluster, but I seriously didn't feel it at all because of how on edge I was at times, not as much as let's say during her escape attempt in the corn field sure, but I was still wary and uneasy while reading. I know we had the whole circus with the Guardian thing last time, but san being so urgent in his claims that they have to leave and us getting to hear about how pissed off hj got because of mc's "unsatisfying" reaction to his little scheme? I am dead serious when I tell you I was bracing for the absolute worst, got me shaking in my little tinfoil hat.

The part about the machine harvesting the field? With mc saying she wouldn't want to be caught in it? (ALSO I SEE THAT SHORT YEOSANG MOMENT, I SEE YOU LEAVING A TRAIL OF BREAD CRUMBS FOR HIM 👁👁 <- EYES THAT SEE)

My 2 braincells immediately went "oh em gee, foreshadowing?", like I am certain to my core that someone's gonna fucking die to that or be horrifically injured, its just a matter of: whom? 🤨 I'm gonna save my guess as to who it could be in case that does happen, but I will come back here to yell on another ask about it if that comes up in the future.

Then the scene with hj and hwa talking to mc about her questions, and she hits them with the "oh what can I do if I'm alone?" and hwa is desperately trying to get her to stfu (me too man, me too) while hj smiles at her. You know, like a cryptic weirdo.

Now, I am more than willing to say that what came to mind for me in that moment was probably due to my very *rational* fear of TheAnswer!HJ, but ignore the fact that I am losing myself to his mind games and hear me out for a bit: I kid you not, for a second, I legit thought that he may suggest to or even outright attempt to like "mark" mc with the Sign.

In what way? I don't fucking know but there are many options and he is twisted enough to think of that, we all know it and the sirens were blaring in my head about that when he said the Sign would protect her as long as she had it in her, like "mc girl, I dread to say this but I feel like we should trust mr lapdog on this one, I fear you may be poking the modern day moses a bit too much and we all know he is having a diva moment today", because for hwa to be so concerned over it while hj reacts somewhat positively? Yeah, something wicked this way comes. And on that note, it seemed to me that hwa wasn't just trying to get her to steer from upsetting hj, he seems like he was trying to keep the peace between them in more ways than just that (more on that in a separate ask cause I feel like this is getting too long and its probably a pain for people to scroll past it LMAO I'M SO SORRY).

You clarified for me last time that mc will find out eventually about what happened to her bff (thank you by the way <33) and given how much it was brought up this chapter, I do think he is gonna wait out a while to use the haseul card (haseul girl you will always be remembered as the ride or die friend that you were, more on the die side but it's not your fault girlie, we love you), because while he is clearly prone to emotional outbursts, he is also smart as hell and just as cruel, we are yet to see him mess up big time just out of losing his cool (or maybe the consequences just haven't quite caught up to him just yet but I'd argue he is still ahead in that case), so I imagine that the threat of doing it is very much real but he will play it right for his own advantage.

The man is a diva but he is a cunning one, he more so seems to bring it up because he knows that the idea of devastating mc in that way is a threat in and of itself to everyone else that is also vying for her attention, which is 100/10 writing, author you are amazing (if the way that the fic is eating away at my brain wasn't clear indication of that).

I am also once again proud of our mc for *once again* poking holes in his little bible lore, yes bestie you are correct, wtf does it mean for a Guardian to kidnap someone? A question that I personally had when I read his explanation is: if the Guardians can kidnap people across dimensions then why tf can't the cult members or him, the big powerful prophet himself, also do something like that? Wouldn't that be way more helpful than sending uber eats across dimensions to the Others through sacrifices?? He says they need mc to do that but the Guardians have no issue going "yoink :3" over to our dimension to spirit away his followers and at the same time he also wants us to believe that the same Guardians are afraid of him? Sir. Pick a side, you can't have it both ways. Either they are clearly stronger than you and that's why we are all struggling with mc being a non believer or you are the op big shot of this religion whom everyone grovels under, make it make sense ! !

(Also this isn't me trying to point plot holes in your story pls lol I don't think his religion's lack of consistency is a reflection of your writing ever, in fact I think it's really cool cause it adds to the mystery of it all along with making us question him even more, I just have a lot of fun dissecting the snippets of it we do get out of spite for him lmao).

I have some more things I wanted to add but I'll throw them into another ask cause, again, I feel like this is already gonna be annoying to scroll past lmao, so sorry for anyone seeing this, apologies everyone.

But these were my general takes on the chapter, I really enjoyed it as always so thanks for another update Lauren <333 wish you well!!

- 👁👁

LKSJLFKJASDF OMG HI!!!! <33333

First of all let me just say that you will never annoy me w these comments like this is seriously my dream feedback i could cry honestly im so touched that you care so much to type all of this out and that you clearly spend so much time thinking about the answer and really appreciating it and like. YEAH ILY SM DO NOT WORRY !!!!! 

Fun fact about bee and me updating at the same time . we didnt plan it this time . it was in fact random . but there was a time in like… i wanna say december 2022 when bee was writing claire de lune and her and caly and i all conspired to update on the same day and im pretty sure we did and i cant even imagine what it wouldve been like to be a claire de lune/mists of celeste/the answer reader on that day LMFAO

ANYWAYS INTO THE MEAT AAAAAAAAAAA pls these reactions to hj are so real like sometimes ill write something a little bit too … cute ? and then ive gotta reel it back real quick we gotta remember who we’re talking about we gotta stay strong even if he is hot and obsessed 

TY for saying you felt that the chapter was still interesting hehe i guess i felt like people would be expecting a lot from this chapter and i knew it wasnt going to be What Was Expected or like that it wasnt going to go right into the escape attempt like i think some people probably thought SO im glad that the chapter was still … paranoia inducing LMFAO 

No fun fact idk if this is like obvious or not but my grandparents are/were corn farmers so like. Obvs i have spent a lot of time on a corn field. Planting harvesting running around etc. and i was always so freaked out by combine machines theyre literally fucking ENORMOUS like easily 15 feet tall but the good news is they go like. 10mph. But i still wouldnt want to find myself in the path of one AHAHAH !!!!!! ANYWAYS !!!!!!!!!!!!!

eheheheeh yeah the whole scene w the unholy trinity really …. Ooooooo was it fun to write hehe yes the whole situation w haseul is really a big opportunity for hj to keep manipulating mc and something for him to hold over her head and i hope the dramatic irony is coming through w the fact that we obvs know she’s dead but mc has no idea bc i lovvveeeeeee that tension in a story like just waiting and waiting and waiting for mc to find out … ehehe and i like how you point out that hj hasnt really messed up big time or lost his cool bc youre … right … but he’s almost almost getting there and i just love him being unhinged and ………… yeah ill be quiet now heh

UBER EATS SACRIFICES ACROSS DIMENSIONS SENT MEEEEEE LAKDJFL;ASKJDFL;KJA;DFKJ youre so real for these questions and like yes this is exactly the type of thing i want you to be thinking … hehehe keep yourself in mc’s shoes yk … i def get that you’re not trying to point out plot holes hehe dw dw thank you for your compliments hehe

I WILL ANSWER YOUR SECOND ASK NEXT !!! TYSM AGAIN I LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH MWAH i hope you are WELL !!! <3333

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

[sinner-as-saint]

‘Till We Bleed Out - 1.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 1 of this series. 

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real. 

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst 

You knocked on the large wooden door and took a step back, hands shaking with how nervous you were. 

You were quite far from your neighborhood, and none of your friends were in town currently. So really so there was no one who could come pick you up. Plus, the thunderstorm was making things worse. Your car had broken down for no reason while you were heading back home. And you drove down this road often, to get to the other side of the town and you always, always admired this mansion - at the doorstep of which you found yourself at the moment. 

The mansion was renowned for its unusualness. It was the largest property around so definitely whoever owns it must be extremely well-off. Another reason why it was so talked about is because no one personally knew the man who owned it. People saw him once in a while, some claimed to have seen him at the library, or at the museum or at the coffee shops. He had no friends apparently, always seen alone. No one knew of his occupation, or how he was able to afford and maintain this large estate. 

Most people said he was stand-offish, or mean, or rude or arrogant. Well, whatever he was, you were about to find out in a few seconds given that you were now knocking at his front door. What if he doesn’t agree to help? Or worse, what if he’s a creepy weirdo who-

Your thoughts were cut short as the door flew open. And the man revealed himself. Your gaze locked with his and for a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped. Blue eyes. The bluest you had ever seen. Magnetic, mesmerizing. Strong jaw, broad shoulders - the man was a dream. 

I finally found you… 

For some reasons those words echoed in your head, and you felt a pressing need to say them out loud. You had to force yourself out of whatever trance you were under and come back to reality. 

You cleared your throat. “Hello Mr. Barnes. I apologize for-,”

He cut you off, abruptly. “Come on in.” he spoke with a warm smile and opened the door wider. And you found yourself under his spell just by the sound of his voice, again. 

“But Mr. Barnes you didn’t even let me-,” you realized it would be much better if you told him why you were here in the first place, you would hate to impose. 

He gave you another smile as he waited for you to enter his home, closing the door behind you. “You’re a long way from home, I figured that the only reason why you would be here at this time is because you need shelter from the terrible weather, or maybe your car broke down.” He gave you a soft look, “So which is it?” 

You looked down at your shoes now drenched by the rain, sheepishly answering, “Both actually.” You looked back up at him and finally took all of him in. You had to admit, he was just as they described him; very, very handsome.  

Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. He looked like he was crafted by the gods above. His soft sweater gave him a very warm look, but his eyes - icy blue, they reminded you of glaciers and mountain tops, and snowstorms. He was the kind of man one could spend hours looking at. And the more you looked at him, the more details you picked up on. For instance, how perfect his nose was. Or how well he carried himself, or just how mature and wise his facial hair made him look. He was… oddly familiar. Maybe you had seen him at the library or something before.

He must've caught you checking him out judging by the smirk he gave you. You cleared your throat again, looking everywhere else but right at him. “I promise I’ll be gone by morning, Mr. Barnes.” 

He took a step forward and you froze in place. “Please, call me Bucky. And you can stay for as long as you need too, there’s no way I’m letting you leave until this terrible storm passes.” And just as he said that, you heard the thunder roar right above you. 

“Thank you.” you replied with a shy smile. Normally, whenever you came face to face with men this handsome, you’d turn into a nervous mess. But Bucky had a sense of familiarity with him. Warmth, comfort; you couldn’t explain it. “You have a lovely home.” you commented. 

Bucky looked right at you with a look in his eyes which you couldn’t quite decipher. Longing? Sadness? Or was it just you who was overthinking? “Thank you.” he stared at you for a few more seconds before rushing over to the coat hangers and grabbed one, holding it open for you. “I’m sorry, it seems I forgot how to be a good host. We don’t get many visitors.” 

You happily accepted the coat and turned back around to smile at him. “I think you’re doing perfectly alright.” 

He smiled and opened his mouth to say something but another voice beat him to it. “Who is it? I heard someone come in. Is it-,” 

The woman with brown hair and a white apron, who suddenly emerged from one of the hallways, stopped talking the moment she saw you. Her lips parted in surprise and you could’ve sworn you heard her gasp. You assumed it was because of the odd time you showed up. 

“Oh…” she seemed surprised. “Hello miss...” her eyes searched for Bucky and the moment she found him, her eyes widened again.

Bucky spoke up. “Wanda, this is Y/N. She will be spending the night here. Could you prepare the guestroom for her please?” 

The woman, Wanda, smiled brightly and you wondered how she had this much energy at this time of the night. “Of course! Right away.” And with that, she left. Leaving you and Bucky alone again. You turned to face him again. 

“That was my housekeeper, Wanda. Her and her husband take care of the house.” He explained, and you nodded. 

“She seemed a little surprised upon seeing me. I didn’t mean to disturb your household at such a time, I’m-” 

He cut you off again, stepping closer and gently placing his cold hands on your shoulder. You shivered a little and he didn’t seem to notice. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t have to apologize, you didn’t disturb anyone, okay?” 

His piercing blue eyes were making it hard for you to focus on what he was saying but you grasped whatever you could and nodded in understanding. “Okay.” You tried hard not to, but you couldn’t help but be all bothered by his simple touch. His very presence screamed power, in a good way. You felt safe. 

“Good. Now come on, you could use some rest.” He held your hand in his gently, and led you up the grand stairs. He took your hand in his with such ease almost like he had done so a thousand times before, and you let him. 

You took in more and more of the house as you moved upstairs. It was the right mixture between modern and vintage. Parts of the house looked like it belonged in one of the home décor magazines you were currently obsessed with, while others seemed like they were pieces of ancient manors. It was unusually, hauntingly beautiful. 

Once you entered the guest room, you felt a wave of emotions hit you right in the face. Like homesickness, but for a place you had never stepped in before until this very moment. Nostalgia, but for a moment back in time which you had never lived in. 

The room was absolutely gorgeous. Dark wooden interior, with accents of black and gold. A chandelier which reminded you of an ancient castle, and a bed which seemed fit for royalty. “I must say, you have incredible taste in interior décor.” 

Bucky chuckled. “I take it you like the room. Very well then, you’ll find everything you need in the closets and in the bathroom.” He took a step back. “And if you need anything, anything at all, just call out.” 

You giggled as he said so. “This place is massive. There’s no way you’re gonna hear me if I call out for you.” 

He let out a little laugh. “Trust me doll, I will hear you.” And with that, he left. 

You watched him as he closed the door behind him, feeling just a little more warm after that nickname. You let out a sigh of satisfaction. Well, you were weirdly comfortable here. You walked further into the room, taking in every little detail. You took off the coat Bucky gave you earlier and placed it down on one of the couches. Taking off your heels, you made your way to the bathroom and it was everything one can dream of. 

You searched the cabinets and closets and found sweatpants and t-shirts which would fit you. Grabbing a set of clothes, you hopped into the shower and forgot about your broken down car and the thunderstorm. Instead, you thought of Bucky. What a peculiar man he is; no one in the town knows where he comes from, or what he does but here you were seeking help from him, showering his bathroom. 

There was something about him, a sense of ease and warmth which many people lack when you first meet them. But Bucky was different. It almost felt like you’ve known him all your life.  

When you stepped out, all refreshed and dressed you sensed a change the moment you walked back into the bedroom. Someone was here. 

“I brought you some tea. To warm you up a little.” 

You turned around and found Bucky sat on one of the couches by the bed. You instantly smiled, instead of being startled. He was so easy to be around. 

You walked towards him. You picked up one of the cups from the coffee table and brought it up to your nose, softly blowing on it before inhaling the lovely scent. 

“It’s chamomile and lavender.” Bucky said, and you faced him with a big smile. 

“My favorite, thank you.” you smiled at the odd coincidence as you took a sip of the tea. It soothed you immediately. 

Bucky picked up his own cup and took a slow sip as he watched you intently. “Tell me about yourself, Y/N.” 

The way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine. Which then reminded you that you never actually told him your name. Or maybe you did and you forgot. 

You held your warm cup with both hands and began. You told him your name, where you’re from, where you work and a little bit about your family. You knew you shouldn’t be giving this much detail about your life to a stranger but you were currently drinking tea in his guest room wearing clothes he provided, so the least you could do is engage fully in the conversation. 

He did a little nod after each piece of information you fed him, and you found it adorable. 

“It’s your turn.” you spoke after you were done talking about yourself. 

He smiled. It was a sad smile, or so it seemed. Surely you were overthinking. “I’m quite a boring person to be honest. I work all day, and I work all night. My family is… not around so I have to handle everything. All their businesses and companies around the country.” 

“Doesn’t it get lonely here? I mean it’s a magnificent home but, to live here alone must be quite hard, no?” 

You didn’t mean to pry but the way he looked straight into your eyes made you want to know the man a little better. Why was he so calm and collected? How is he so okay with you just being in his home? Why is he so kind? He didn’t seem old, then why did he give off the vibes of being so mature and wise, like he’s lived lifetimes before this one?

“Memories can be great company.” He answered in a tone which gave away that the man had lost a lot. Perhaps a close family member? Or a friend or a spouse? He added, “And this house is full of it.” 

“You grew up here?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

He gave you that same look; sad, longing like he was desperately trying to show certain emotion but he couldn’t. 

“I moved here. With my wife.” Those words of his caused your heart to feel heavy. “But she passed, a long time ago.” The look on his face made your heart burn for some reasons. The need to comfort him took over you but you refrained from doing so, it wasn’t your place to. 

“You must’ve loved her a lot.” You didn’t ask, you stated. Because it showed. 

He had that same sad smile on his face. “She was my everything. My lifeline.” 

He sounded so broken, it hurt. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

He smiled again. “You know, I like to think that the things we lose end up coming back to us, eventually. One way or another.” 

That didn’t really make sense to you right away, but it was a beautiful thought nonetheless. “That’s beautiful.” 

He stared into your eyes again, and it seemed like he was fighting something back. The need to say something perhaps. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.” And just as he said that, the thunder roared again, as loud as it could. 

You stood up as he did. He said goodnight and left. And you were left standing there wondering what the hell happened in the past few minutes. His presence alone made you feel safe for some reasons. Knowing that he was just a few doors down the hallway made you less anxious. Even when you settled under the covers, it didn’t feel like a foreign bed. 

You wondered why. How could you have settled into an unfamiliar home so easily? It wasn’t weird, just surprising. 

With the help of the tea, you drifted off to sleep in no time. Dreaming about ballrooms, and kissing a man inside a beautiful mansion and… and a pair of ocean blue eyes… 

A flutter on your cheek, and you looked up to find a pair of blue eyes looking down at you. “Hello sweetheart. You ready?” the man said as he offered you a red rose. 

You nodded, despite his face being quite blurry. You felt his arms around you, and you felt safe; like nothing could go wrong and this was a perfect world. You felt his lips place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Your surroundings changed and now you were at a ball, wearing a lovely rose gold gown, arms linked with the tall man. The music was unfamiliar but lovely. He twirled you around and pulled you close, your one hand carefully placed in his and the other on his shoulder. You noticed the shiny ring on your ring finger, and the wedding band on his. You smiled, realizing that this was your husband and all was well. 

Your surroundings faded again. Now you were inside your home. A beautiful home, with the fireplace warming the room you were in. Your blue-eyed husband was beside you again, the two of you sat by the fireplace and he offered you a glass of wine. You smiled, taking it from him. You felt a slight discomfort inside your mouth, around your front teeth but that was alright, it seemed like you were used to it. You brought the wine glass up to your lips, letting some of the contents into your mouth. It wasn’t wine, but you seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. 

Euphoria, you felt utter euphoria as you stared into the same pair of eyes only this time they were so red, they seemed black. He reached out and held your face in place and tilted his head just a little; deepening the kiss. He nibbled on your lower lip and shoved his tongue past your lips. Your body tingled in his arms. It all felt so right and perfect, it felt like a dream. Like a dream inside a dream. 

Gentle sin, that’s what it felt like when he pulled you closer, his hand slipping under your night dress and resting on your thigh while his other hand cupped your cheek. Your hands slid into his hair naturally and he moaned into the kiss again when you tugged at his roots a little. He kissed down your neck, his arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your body against his. He nibbled on the skin at the side of your throat, his teeth sharp and you were sure he left marks on your skin, but you didn’t mind. 

You gasped and moaned. This felt right. He pulled away after a while. He looked down at you with pink, swollen, parted lips. Slightly breathless, and his eyes showed nothing but love and passion, and a hunger like you had never seen before, but it was all familiar. His face was unclear, but you could make out certain features of his and he was oddly familiar too. 

“I love you.” He mumbled. 

You knew that voice… 

“I love you so much.” He whispered against your lips, his hand slipping in between your legs with no shame; his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He smiled against your lips upon feeling just how aroused you were, before he pulled away and kissed down your body. He took your sensitive nipples in his mouth. 

He sucked on the soft skin as his teeth applied just the slightest bit of pressure upon the bud. His warm tongue swirling around your nipple had you throwing your head back in pleasure. 

Your eyes closed as you relished his touch. You felt him kiss his way down your body; from your lips all the way down to your hip bones; his lips soft and gentle on your skin. 

He placed his hands on either one of your thighs and slowly spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without any hesitation. You moaned out loud as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly. 

Obscene, wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. He had dark hair you noticed. The room was getting darker and darker as well. You could see your arousal drenching the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming on the large bed. 

Your body arched off the bed for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you when his tongue slowly circled around your sensitive clit. The pressure between your legs was building up nicely. 

With a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face without any warning. He licked you clean, then kissed his way up your body again. “You’re all mine, Y/N.” he whispered softly against your lips as he settled in between your legs again. You shuddered under him and whined against his mouth, the feeling reminding you a lot of how you shivered earlier when a pair of cold hands held you gently by the shoulder. 

Your body felt tingly as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head to look at you and you gasped quietly in surprise. It was Bucky. Although he still had dark eyes, and sharp canines? 

He didn’t give you time to think too much. You moaned out loud once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to relax your tense body. You wrapped around him perfectly. You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, kissing you deeply while he rolled his hips against yours.  

His body felt cold. But it also felt familiar. Being so close to him felt right. 

You whimpered as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you slightly harder. He groaned right in your ear as you felt your walls wrap around him, squeezing and clenching. This felt right. 

Panting and swearing under his breath, he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed your face; all over. You felt a little bold so you hooked your legs around his waist as his thrusts got rougher than the last. You were a moaning mess under him as your hands gripped his arms and shoulder. Your body moved against his like a rag doll. You knew, in your dream that you belonged to him, and him you. 

“I love you.” he whispered. He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. If anything, you wanted more. You needed him closer. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. He growled and bit down on your shoulder as he fucked you. He was relentless, and you liked it. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear, groaning as you tried to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He slammed into you, his hands travelling all over your body, until one of them wrapped around your throat. Your eyes watered as the pleasure became too much to handle; and you felt the pressure forming again. You felt him everywhere, each nerve ending burning and tingling. 

You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pushing you into him harshly each time he filled you up. A sweet, familiar pain formed again, and you came without any warning; gushing out all over him as he kept slamming into you, chasing his own orgasm. 

“Bucky... ” you sounded breathless. 

He gasped and snuggled closer to you. His eyes were back to the gentle blue again. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ll always be here. I love you, Y/N.” 

You wanted to say it back. But then you woke up to a loud boom. You sat up gasping, and looking around frantically. You were sweating, but also cold. The room was dark, unlike the one in your dream earlier, which was illuminated by candlelight. It took you a little while to reorient yourself. The storm was somehow getting more and more loud and violent outside. 

And you just had a weird dream about Bucky. Which didn’t feel like a dream, but more like a memory. A memory buried so deep that it almost didn’t feel real. 

You were confused. What is the meaning of all this?

---

a/n: hi

[slowly-writing]

Whispers

Avengers x Teen!Reader

Word count: 1.8K

Requested by @shady80smusicsingercolor : Avengers x teen!reader Where the reader is a cheerleader at the high school that Peter goes to, reader was during school hours when the teen heard the rest of the squad talking crap about them,teen gets upset,and after teen decided to skip practice,when they arrive to the avengers tower,Steve was the first one to notice but yet haven't notice the sadness in the reader face,but then realized the teen should be in practice,Steve now notices the teen face, calls for the team,and team comfort her

A/N: this was requested so long ago (literally April 10th), and I’m so sorry it took me so long. Thank you for your patients!

“Bye Pete, I’ll see you back home. I’ve got practice after school,” you remind the boy, waving as you turn the corner out of the cafeteria. You always left lunch a little early. Your next class was across the school and you really didn’t like to be late. So that’s what brought you here, alone and hearing voices ahead of you. Normally you wouldn’t think much of it, being in a school there’s constantly someone somewhere, talking about something. But then you heard your name.

You paused creeping close to the corner, but not quite rounding it. Listening to the voices you recognized as your teammates.

“What’s the deal with y/n and Peter? She’s always with him...I wonder if they’re dating,” Betty whispers to the group you can’t quite see.

“They can’t be. She’s way too good for Parker. It’s just a charity thing. Cause she lives with the avengers and he works there or whatever. She probably pities him,” Brad counters and you shrink further in on yourself.

“She’s kind of a weirdo too though. With that whole mysterious backstory and weird accent she tries to hide. Where’s she from? And how did she end up at the avengers tower?” Liz joins in and your frown deepens.

Did they really think you were shallow enough to think you were better than Peter? Just because he wasn’t on the football team? If only they knew how awesome he really was. And why did they suddenly want to know everything about you? They never asked before and you don’t really want to unpack their analysis of your home life anyways. That was none of their business.

You silently turn around, taking the long way to class. You really don’t want to see any of them right now.

xxxxx

When the final bell rang you sat at your desk, debating whether you could face practice. They don’t know you heard them gossiping, and it hurts more that they said it all behind your back, so you shake your head sending a quick text off to your coach, claiming you have a migraine, and start walking home.

You kept running over the things they had said. They really thought Peter was lame? After everything, you’d thought they’d gotten to know him. He’s the coolest person you’ve met, even without the whole spiderman thing. He was sweet and super passionate about the things he enjoyed. He was smarter than you could ever hope to be, but you never minded listening to him in the lab as he rambled about the new web shooters he was working on. You think he’s amazing, and you know that’s more than your massive crush talking.

Then there was the fact that they thought you were hiding things. It’s not like your living situation was a secret, but it wasn’t something you enjoyed talking about. You were born in Sokovia and lived there with your parents until the attack with Ultron happened. Most of that day is a blur, a mix of confusion, chaos, and repressed memories. But you know Steve got you out, but your parents were lost in the tragedy.

Steve and the other avengers felt some sort of responsibility to you. You’re still not quite sure why, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. A lot of people from your hometown came out of it with nothing, and the team is always sure to help when they can, but you’re grateful for your new life and all that it’s given you.

You’re so lost in thought you don’t even register that you’re almost home until you reach the front door of the tower. You smile weakly at the security guard and make your way to the elevator, silently praying nobody is home. As the doors open you see your prayers haven’t been answered, but the silver lining is Peter’s not there yet. Maybe Steve will forget you have practice today.

“Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have practice after school?” shit.

“Uh yeah...it umm. Got cancelled. Last minute...gardening emergency. They had to close the field for the day,” you wince and Steve raises an eyebrow. “I gotta go. Homework.”

With that lame excuse you scramble to your room, closing the door behind you and flopping face down on the bed.

xxxxx

“Hey, Peter. Did y/n seem off to you today? She seemed upset when she got home from school,” Steve asks Peter in the lab, Peter furrowing his brow before responding.

“No, not that I noticed, but I haven’t seen her since lunch. Maybe practice was rough, I know they’re getting ready for that competition in a few weeks,” Peter says softly, trying to figure out how to help you.

“No, practice was cancelled. They closed the field,” Steve’s words cause Peter’s head to snap up.

“No they didn’t. I saw them practicing after school. The soccer team was on the field too. I didn’t look too close because y/n says it’s embarrassing when I watch practices, but I know it happened,” Peter stands, setting his tools aside, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“I’ll come with you,” Steve follows him out of the lab, and not five minutes later, there’s a knock on your door.

“Coming,” you yell, only to immediately shrink back after opening the door. One look at their faces and you know they’ve caught you in your lie, “hey.”

“I think we need to talk,” Steve says in his captain voice and you let out a sigh, opening the door enough for them to follow you into the room.

“Why did you skip practice?” Peter’s head is tilting to the side like a confused puppy, and you have to remind yourself that this is a serious conversation, not a time to fawn over how cute he is.

“I just-”

“And don’t try to lie again,” Steve cuts you off. The man really knows you too well.

“You know how in movies and TV shows cheerleaders are always such jerks?” They both silently nod, “and how when I moved here I tried really hard to fit in so they’d be nice to me?” two more nods. “I thought it worked but it turns out that in real life they just say the mean things behind your back when they think you aren’t listening.”

“What’d they say?” Steve’s voice is softer now, he’s always been afraid of you having problems at school. He knows his fair share about bullying, and knows kids will always attack anything different. Your accent may have faded over the years, but it’s still clear that you’re not from here and you’re not quite used to the New York lifestyle. Back home everything was smaller, but you’re always excited to learn about your new home. It’s rare to see you without a smile on your face and he always hoped your naive compassion would save you.

“They were talking about how weird it was that I kept secrets about why I lived here and…” you trail off, looking at Peter. He looks ready to go to war for you, and you don’t want to admit the rest out loud, ��that I must only hang out with Peter out of pity. But it's not true! Sometimes I think it’s the other way around. You’re so sweet and smart that sometimes I think the only reason you spend time with me is because you feel bad for me. The freaky kid from another country with no family. I try to fit in a school, so I don’t talk about my home, and I’ve learned to talk like they do. But no matter what I do, I still stick out. Maybe it’d be easier for you if we weren’t friends at all.”

By the time you finish your eyes are firmly locked on your hands in your lap, tears building up in your eyes.

“That’s not true,” Peter says firmly, in a rare show of anger. For a moment you think he’s mad at you, until he continues and you see the real object of his anger. “I don't hang out with you because I pity you, or I think I have to. I hang out with you because I like you for who you are. You make me feel normal. Not like the geeky kid at school everyone likes to tease, or the hero the city looks to for help. With you I’m just Peter. You listen to me ramble about tech I know you couldn’t care less about and you tell me about cheerleading moves that are so foreign to me they may as well be in a different language, but it doesn’t matter. We’re there for each other, it’s what we do. And I wish I could’ve been there for you this time. I know what it’s like to feel like you have to keep secrets but you don’t have to do that with me.”

You let his words sink in, letting him brush away the tears that have made their way down your cheeks before Steve speaks.

“And you have a family. I know you lost yours in Sokovia and I can’t even imagine that pain, but you’re not alone. You have all of us and any one of us will be here to listen to you, or take your mind off of it for a bit. What happened to you was traumatic, you lost your whole life and it’s okay not to want the kids at school knowing that. But you don’t have to forget where you came from to fit in.  Wanda makes food from Sokovia on Peitro’s birthday every year and I know she still keeps her journal in Russian. You’re allowed to miss your home, y/n. It doesn’t make you wierd, or ungrateful. It makes you human,” Steve wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lean into his side.

“I do like it here, but it’s just so hard sometimes,” you admit softly.

“We know it is, but you’re not alone,” Peter tells you and you smile up at him, gently taking his hand in your own.

“Now, I think you need a fun, relaxing night with no responsibilities. What do you say to a movie night. We’ll watch whatever you want,” Steve proposes and your smile widens as you nod. “Then it’s settled. I’ll go gather the troops, and you two come join us whenever you’re ready.”

It’s silent for a few moments after he leaves and you soon realize you’re still holding Peter’s hand. You go to pull away but his grip is firm. His other hand on your chin, drawing your eyes to his. “I mean it you know. I like you, as more than just a friend.”

“You do?” your voice is barely above a whisper, but there’s a happiness in your eyes you can’t hide and Peter’s whole face lights up.

“Yes really. I have for a while now, I just never knew how to tell you. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”

“I do,” the words tumble out of your mouth before he’s even done speaking, but he’s smiling, and so are you. For now it all feels right as he gently presses his lips to yours. The whispers in the hallways don’t matter, because you have a family, and it seems you may have a boyfriend now too.

Tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx  @stop-drop-and-drumroll

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt7 / On AO3

Lan Xichen's plans for the day get derailed, but not as much as he feared

After a long and silent eternity, the people of Yunping Huang finally started to wake up, as did their Lan guests. Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, both relieved to have company at last, joined everyone else for breakfast. The younger boy made a point of sitting as far away as possible, clearly still upset about that Su She incident. Even like this, Nie Huaisang threw a sharp look toward Lan Xichen when Lan Qiren dropped by to announce that they would all be staying until that afternoon, since the three sect leaders present had things left to discuss.

Lan Xichen tried his best to look surprised at the news, and discreetly nodded at Nie Huaisang to confirm he would still be helping.

By the time Lan Xichen felt it safe to head out without risking being seen by his uncle, Nie Huaisang was already at the door of the sect, nervously biting his nails again and tapping his foot on the ground as if waiting to be given a chance to bolt out. He must really have wanted those spring books, Lan Xichen thought.

It wasn’t so hard, convincing the Huang disciple guarding the entrance that Nie Huaisang was actually allowed to go out if it was in Lan Xichen’s company. It helped that Lan Xichen, in spite of his age, already had a small reputation going for him, and that he’d performed so well against those fierce corpses the previous day that the guard was a little in awe. The two boys then headed out together, having agreed to stick together until they were out of view, and to meet again at a certain hour when they had both taken care of their respective errands. They would surely be scolded when they came back, but less than if they returned separately.

Nie Huaisang was about to run off on his own when they heard someone calling their names behind them. They turned as one, terrified to have been already discovered, only to find Jiang Cheng running toward them, a frown on his face.

“Where are you two going?” Jiang Cheng asked when he caught up with them, throwing them a suspicious look.

“Nowhere,” Lan Xichen said.

“And we’re not going together,” Nie Huaisang added. “We just happen to be heading out at the same time.”

Jiang Cheng’s expression only turned more suspicious. If that Huang disciple had been easy to fool, it seemed Jiang Cheng remembered that Lan Qiren’s punishment of Nie Huaisang had made no mention of exceptions.

“Can I come with you?”

Lan Xichen gave the younger boy a puzzled smile, and turned to look at Nie Huaisang, awaiting his answer. He hadn’t noticed that the two boys had talked at all the previous day, but he wasn’t surprised either that they’d have some affinity. 

They weren’t supposed to have met yet, but Lan Xichen remembered that they would become somewhat close the following year, especially after that Wei Wuxian boy would be sent home. He didn’t think the friendship between Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng had gone anywhere after they’d left the Cloud Recesses, but it would still be good for them to…

“No, I meant with you, Lan gongzi,” Jiang Cheng corrected with some embarrassment, having followed his gaze. “I had a few questions I’d like to ask you, about yesterday. Lan gongzi really was very impressive,” he explained with a small bow. “I hoped he might spare some time to teach me?”

The request startled Lan Xichen, as did the rather mild and calm tone in which it was made. Come to think of it, in that terrible future he’d very rarely interacted with Jiang Cheng without Wei Wuxian being present as well, who always unwittingly drew out the worst sides of his shidi’s personality. And then, after Wei Wuxian’s death… well, Jiang Cheng just hadn’t been a pleasant man with anyone.

He too would grow into a lonely man, Lan Xichen recalled, and the idea upset him. How much could have been changed, if he hadn’t relied so much on Meng Yao’s friendship, if Jiang Cheng had had someone on his side other than Wei Wuxian?

“I have an errand to run,” he explained, only to see Jiang Cheng’s face tighten at the apparent rejection. How odd, that he’d never noticed before that Jiang Cheng was a little sensitive, but he recalled an argument in that temple where Meng Yao would die, and… well. Sensitive was a mild thing to call it. “It’s fine if you come as well,” Lan Xichen heard himself say.

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asked, sounding almost suspicious.

It would be a dreadful idea to think of dragging the son of a sect leader into the sort of places where Meng Yao could be expected to be found. But Jiang Cheng looked too pitiful to be left behind, and Lan Xichen decided even if this visit to Yunping City turned out to be a failure, he could always try to come again later. He’d have to lie about the reason why, but since it was for a good cause, he figured it wasn’t too big of a crime. In fact, maybe it was for the best if he gave up for the day. He hardly had a plan on how to deal with Meng Yao, anyway.

“I was also impressed by how well Jiang gongzi did yesterday,” Lan Xichen said with a smile. “For being so young, you are very competent already. I was wondering why Jiang zongzhu had brought his young son to a Night Hunt that could have been dangerous, but after seeing you in action I understand better.”

“Yes, Jiang gongzi was really impressive,” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, as if he knew enough about martial arts to give his opinion. “Yunmeng Jiang trains for flexibility and speed, right? It really showed! And you have very good posture and a strong grip on your sword. I think even my brother would have found nothing to say against how you fought!”

Lan Xichen threw Nie Huaisang a sharp glance, surprised to hear him make such an accurate assessment of Jiang Cheng’s skill. Apparently lacking any talent himself didn’t stop him from understanding the strength of others.

Jiang Cheng’s cheeks turned a little pink at the double praise.

“You’re both too generous,” he said in a tone of voice that made it obvious he thought he deserved the compliments. Then, quite suddenly, his face turned sour. “To be honest, I’m only here because Wei Wuxian was supposed to come as well and we work well as a team. But he got punished and had to stay behind. If you’d seen him, then…”

“That Wei person isn’t here though, so who cares about his skill!” Nie Huaisang cheerfully cut him. “If he got punished, he can’t be that good. Ah, but I really should get going now… Jiang gongzi, please entertain Lan gongzi for me, and I’ll see you both later when it’s time to leave!”

With this, Nie Huaisang darted away, the way he’d been wanting to do since Lan Xichen first saw him that morning. For someone so reluctant to do any physical exercise Nie Huaisang could run fast, and in the blink of an eye he had just disappeared in the sparse early morning crowd.

“What a weirdo,” Jiang Cheng remarked.

“He’s a very unique person,” Lan Xichen agreed. “I just hope he won’t get himself into too much trouble. Ah, well… shall we go?”

“Sure. What’s your errand? I’ve been here a few times before, maybe I can guide you around.”

For a brief moment, Lan Xichen was very tempted… but no. He would find another occasion to deal with Meng Yao. This was important too, he felt.

He'd been focused on saving Nie Mingjue, on protecting his sect's library, on averting Meng Yao's fate, because those had been the thing weighting down the man he would have become, but he didn't have to stop at that. There were many more tragedies in the world, small and big, and maybe Lan Xichen could change those too. 

Maybe Jiang Cheng didn't need to grow with no friend but Wei Wuxian. 

“Forget about my errand, it’s something that can wait. Instead, would Jiang gongzi show me around while we chat? I’m sure you know some interesting places.”

The praise, however mild, had an instant effect on Jiang Cheng who proudly nodded, and offered to take Lan Xichen to the market by the lake, where some sellers always had some unique things to sell, he claimed, as well as delicious food. Besides, if Lan Xichen didn't enjoy the market, then they'd have the option to just walk by the lake and enjoy the sight. It seemed like a pleasant enough plan so Lan Xichen agreed. 

As they walked side by side, Jiang Cheng started asking questions about Lan Xichen's performance the previous day, and about Gusu Lan's style of cultivation in general. Jiang Cheng was surprisingly observant, it turned out, and quite curious as well as gifted with a good memory. He lacked the sheer genius that Wei Wuxian seemed to have, but hard work and stubbornness were valuable skills as well. After just this short chat, Lan Xichen thought it made sense that Jiang Cheng had managed to single-handedly raise his sect from the ashes, in that future that couldn't be allowed to happen. 

He thought, also, that his future self had missed out by never taking the time to really talk to Jiang Cheng. The younger boy's character was a little rough around the edges, but he knew how to be polite, and some of his remarks showed an understanding of politics that surprised Lan Xichen. In some ways, Jiang Cheng reminded him of Nie Mingjue as he had been before rising to power. 

When they reached the market, their conversation drifted to lighter topics. Jiang Cheng was disappointed at first to learn Lan Xichen was a strict vegetarian who couldn't handle any spice to his food, but quickly took it as a challenge to find something his companion could still taste. They also wandered from stall to stall, checking on the various wares offered. Lan Xichen was thinking of buying something for his brother, who had been quite unhappy to be left behind when Nie Huaisang had been invited, but wasn't sure what to pick. A year from then he could have gotten something rabbit themed and be done with it, but Lan Wangji hadn't yet developed a love for those animals, and was just impossible to shop for.

Just as Lan Xichen was about to ask for Jiang Cheng’s opinion, since he was of a similar age to Lan Wangji, a commotion further away in the market caught their attention. There seemed to be an argument happening just three stalls away from them, between a seller and a young customer whose voice Lan Xichen had the displeasure of instantly recognising.

Lan Xichen pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. Of course Nie Huaisang would have gotten in trouble.

“Isn’t that…” Jiang Cheng started, squinting toward the altercation.

“It is. I’m sorry, Jiang gongzi, but I fear our little excursion ends here.”

Lan Xichen darted ahead, and couldn’t help feeling a little grateful when Jiang Cheng decided to follow, even though this didn’t concern him.

Nie Huaisang, it turned out, had gotten into an argument with a middle-aged man selling cultivation manuals. Both he and the man were shouting loudly at each other, sometimes trying to drag two other people into their fight, a boy whose face Lan Xichen couldn’t see but who even from the back was radiating embarrassment at being caught into this, and an elegant woman who looked just as ashamed.

“If you don’t want me to ruin your business, then you should have an honest one and this wouldn’t happen!” Nie Huaisang was shouting, pointing a threatening finger at the merchant even though the man was two heads taller and at least twice as large as him. “But if you scam people, then I’ll call you a scammer, and a disgrace as well. I’m going to denounce you to the Yunping Huang sect, and then they’ll just…”

“You’ll keep your stupid mouth shut if you know what’s good for you!” the merchant retorted. “Or else I’ll…”

“I’m not scared of you!” Nie Huaisang boasted. “You’re just a liar and a scammer and I’m not scared and I’m going to make sure you never sell fakes again!”

“I'll teach you some respect, you brat!" the man shouted, as he grabbed a sheathed sword from his stall and raised it above his head in a threatening manner.

There were a few frightened cries coming from the crowd that had gathered to watch the argument, but nobody seemed inclined to move forward and protect an insolent but scrawny child from a much more imposing adult when the adult in question had a weapon. Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng too only watched with some curiosity. 

Even a cultivator as mediocre as Nie Huaisang could deal with such a situation. The merchant might have been big, but the way he moved and breathed showed he had no martial training at all, while Nie Huaisang was already positioning himself to avoid whatever blows might be thrown at him. And anyway, even without seeing the blade, Lan Xichen could tell that the man’s sword was of very low quality and would likely bend or shatter should it encounter the blade of Nie Huaisang’s high quality sabre… but it was unlikely it would come to that.

The issue of the fight was obvious to all watchers, although Lan Xichen guessed that most of the crowd was deeply wrong in their certainty.

Among those people was the boy standing near Nie Huaisang, and who appeared to be involved in the dispute as well. He and the woman with him had been trying to get out of this mess up until then, but seeing Nie Huaisang in apparent danger, the boy’s posture changed and he sprang forward when the merchant brought down his sword, pushing Nie Huaisang out of the way.

The boy cried in pain and fell to his knees when the sheathed sword hit his shoulder, while the woman with him gasped in horror and ran to his side to check on him, as did Nie Huaisang once he got over the surprise. It had not been a particularly hard blow. That merchant, regardless of his business practices, must have known that seriously harming even a particularly bratty teenager would turn the crowd against him. But the boy wasn’t strong, and even that light attack seemed to have been too much for him.

Sensing that the situation was about to go bad, Lan Xichen pierced through the crowd to try and calm things down, Jiang Cheng still trailing behind him.

There were a few murmurs when the two of them came into view. The people gathered there glanced at Lan Xichen dressed all in immaculate white, at Jiang Cheng in rich purple, took note of their posture, the sword at their hips, and started whispering among themselves. The merchant too, who had been so confident when arguing with Nie Huaisang, and who had started accusing the other boy of faking his injury, went pale when he realised that some true cultivators had joined them. 

The man immediately started gathering his merchandise to run away, but wasn’t fast enough to stop Lan Xichen from grabbing one of the manuals on sale. He quickly browsed through it, and pinched his lips.

“That is indeed a fake,” Lan Xichen announced, much to the shock of the crowd. Then, behind him, the woman yelled in rage. She jumped to her feet and abandoned the hurt boy to throw herself at the merchant, slapping him so hard he dropped all his merchandise.

“You liar!” she shouted, trying to slap him a second time. “I’ve been buying from you for nearly a year! You said A-Yao would become a cultivator for sure with those!”

“They’re real, they’re real!” the merchant replied, trying to shield himself from her blows. “Maybe your son just doesn’t have what it takes!”

“No, he’s got it,” Nie Huaisang announced, causing all eyes to turn on him. He had kneeled down to grab one wrist of that other boy, and seemed to be inspecting his meridians for any sign of talent. “In fact, I think he could be very good. He just needs some real lessons.”

The boy’s mother stared at him for a moment. Her eyes were wide with surprise at first, but quickly her expression turned into one of triumph at the news of her son’s potential, before she became enraged again and started hitting the merchant once more, demanding her money back. After a moment, Jiang Cheng intervened, trying to calm down the woman while preventing the merchant from fleeing now that his crime had been exposed. Lan Xichen should have helped, he truly should have, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the woman’s son.

From Meng Yao.

Because that boy, shorter than Nie Huaisang but with a slightly broader frame, who looked dazed from the unexpected turn his morning had taken and perhaps also from the blow he’d suffered, was Meng Yao. Having seen his face there was no doubt possible, even if he was younger than Lan Xichen had ever known him. That boy was the one who, one day, would murder Nie Mingjue and many others, who would ingratiate himself in Lan Xichen’s good graces, who would use Lan XIchen's reputation as a shield before ultimately turning him into a hostage, only to die by his sword.

Lan Xichen felt his throat start to close, the now familiar choking sensation slowly seizing him as he watched Meng Yao, until…

“Really, you’ve got great potential,” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he patted the other boy's hand. “You know, my da-ge is a sect leader. Maybe you’ve heard of us, Qinghe Nie? Well, my da-ge is its sect leader, and if I tell him about you, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to let you join us!”

“Nie Huaisang!” Lan Xichen cried out, his panic fading quickly in the face of absolute horror. 

Everyone turning to stare at him. Meng Shi stopped trying to hit the crooked merchant, and liked her son seemed puzzled by his intervention. So was the crowd still watching everything unfold as if it were a particularly entertaining play. Jiang Cheng frowned but retained his hold on the merchant, while Nie Huaisang…

Nie Huaisang was not happy, a scowl forming on his face.

“Nie gongzi shouldn’t go around making this sort of offer,” Lan Xichen said, only to see Nie Huaisang’s expression grow darker still.

It wasn’t quite the open hatred he would have shown two decades in the future, at the second funeral of Nie Mingjue, the very last time they would have spoken.

It wasn’t far from it either, and that realisation made Lan Xichen shiver.

“I’m not saying anything unreasonable,” Nie Huaisang argued. “I know my da-ge, and if he hears about a competent person who wishes to become a cultivator, then for sure he’ll want to give them a chance. It’s the sort of person he is.”

Of course Nie Mingjue would give Meng Yao a chance. That was how Lan Xichen had ended up in this whole mess, wasn’t it?

“I am most grateful for these venerable immortals’ interest in my son,” Meng Shi said, returning near her son and bending to wrap an arm around his shoulders, the very picture of a proud mother. “But this will not be necessary. I have good hopes that someday my A-Yao will enter the Jin sect, and…”

“No!” Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang shouted at the same time.

Meng Shi startled at the cry, as did her son.

He looked so young, Lan Xichen thought. So young and innocent and… but of course, Meng Yao was innocent, more so than when they would have met in that other future. He hadn’t yet lost his mother, though Lan Xichen thought her complexion already betrayed early signs of illness. He also hadn’t yet been thrown down the stairs of Jinlin Tai by his own father, not for nearly another year, if Lan Xichen were to guess.

Meng Yao was just a boy, who hadn’t yet started on his path of murder and betrayal.

He was a boy who could still be saved, just like Nie Mingjue.

“Oh, I really wouldn’t recommend that you try joining Lanling Jin,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing Lan Xichen a suspicious look. “It’s not a very good place, not unless you’re born into money and power. Their sect leader is a bit of a prick, too.”

“Nie gongzi shouldn’t gossip,” Lan Xichen said out of habit, earning another glare.

“It’s not gossip if it’s the truth. Everyone knows Jin zongzhu is the worst,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Did you hear about that girl he seduced some years ago? Da-ge said she was just sixteen, and then she got with child, and then he told her that he’d take care of the child, and then he got bored and never went back again.”

“Oh, the one from that rich family in... what was it again? Mo village?” Jiang Cheng remarked. “I’ve heard mother talk about that one. She’d been pestering Jin zongzhu about taking their son into Lanling Jin, but he was worried his wife would figure it out. But Jin Furen still heard about it even like that, and she made a scene. That’s why he stopped going. Well, that and he’d started playing with that other girl… where was it, the one because of whom he didn't go home for two months?”

“No gossip,” Lan Xichen repeated without conviction, his eyes set on Meng Shi.

She’d gone pale at the mention of another bastard, paler still at the news that even a woman of higher standing than hers had failed to make Jin Guangshan keep his promises, but she said nothing and only tightened her grip on her son’s shoulders. Meng Yao too looked shaken by what Jiang Cheng had said, but he appeared less distraught than his mother, as if perhaps he’d already guessed this might be the case but kept on hoping for her sake more than his own.

“It’s really not gossip,” Nie Huaisang claimed, throwing Lan Xichen another annoyed look. “Anyway, Lan gongzi, what if you went to fetch Huang zongzhu and your uncle and Jiang gongzi’s father? Then you won’t have to hear anything that might upset you, and after we’ll get to deal with that man who scammed money out of honest people.”

Lan Xichen hesitated, glancing again toward Meng Shi. She didn't look like she might still try to send her son to Lanling after this, not for a long while at least. But to leave her with Nie Huaisang who had apparently decided to ruin all of Lan Xichen’s plans by inviting Meng Yao into Qinghe Nie.

And yet, there was no other option but for Lan Xichen to be the one who fetched the grown-ups. 

If Nie Huaisang went, Lan Qiren would lose time scolding him, which would give that merchant a chance to run away, or to turn the crowd against them if he was smart… not to mention the Meng family probably had other business to deal with and wouldn’t wait forever, not even for a chance to enter a cultivation sect.

If Jiang Cheng went, he might just get ignored. Lan Xichen hadn’t personally seen it yet, but he knew his future self was aware that Jiang Cheng had a… complicated relationship with his parents, and Jiang Fengmian didn’t particularly favour his own son.

But if Lan Xichen went, his uncle would give him due attention, as he always did when Lan Xichen made it clear he considered a matter important. Perhaps he might even listen to his nephew’s argument in favour of a poor but talented young man, one righteous enough to get hurt trying to protect Nie Huaisang.

That might mean further punishment for Nie Huaisang but Lan Xichen, furious at the other boy for trying to ruin his great plan, didn’t feel particularly sorry about that.

“Nie gongzi, don’t make any more outrageous offers while I’m gone,” Lan Xichen ordered, then turned to Jiang Cheng. “I’m sorry to impose on you, Jiang gongzi, but please keep the situation under control for a little while. I know I can count on you, and I’ll try to be quick.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes, looking more angry at Lan Xichen than before, if that was possible. It mattered little, because Jiang Cheng’s face shone at being trusted like this by someone older, and he nodded with such serious that Lan Xichen felt a little less worried as he left the little group behind.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Feels More Like a Memory

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Ric gulps down the rest of the beer and gestures to the bartender for another. Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Ric, by the way. With a C.”

“Wally. With a W.”

“That’s a tragedy.”

“And Ric isn’t?”

It’s not easy being a ghost. Ric isn’t dead. He has flesh, breath, motion, all signs of life. But Him? The person he apparently used to be but who might as well be a stranger told in someone else’s story? That person is dead, and Ric can’t help but feel like a murderer for pushing him out. He isn’t Dick Grayson. Not anymore. Ric slides into a bar stool, flagging down the bartender. “I’ll have a beer.” This place isn’t his favorite haunt in Blüdhaven, but they do serve good brews despite the lack of customers and general grossness. And, frankly, he’s not in the mood for company tonight. He’s been fielding calls all day from those people, the ones who knew him Before. The ones who foolishly call every few days as if expecting the ghost to answer in Ric’s place. Bruce. Barbara. Damian. Even some names that Ric doesn’t recognize but couldn’t care less about if he did. A Donna Troy. Jason Todd, even though Dick saw in some old files that he’s supposed to be long dead. Some kid named Tim. Ric doesn’t even pick up anymore when the calls come. It’s too exhausting playing defense, trying to remind these poor idiots that the Dick they knew is dead. Ric can’t keep pretending to have any part of himself that cares about these strangers, that keeps him straddling the line between past and future, or it will tear him in half. He’s had enough of the visits from “old friends” and family members he wouldn’t recognize from a Christmas card.

It’s a weeknight, so the bar is empty but for a few alcoholics and some guys playing pool in the back. Ric might even join them later, hustle a few rounds. The door to the bar opens, a dulled bell sounding to announce the newcomer. Ric doesn’t bother looking up. It’s not like he’ll recognize the new face—or any face, for that matter. The bartender brings over his beer. Ric thanks her and takes a sip. The stool next to him creaks. “I’ll have a Coke with three maraschino cherries, please. Thanks.” It’s a deep voice with a bit of a midwestern twang. From Missouri, maybe? The “please” is a clear indicator that he’s not from around here, nor does he go to bars a lot. Not this kind, anyway. Ric has tried and failed to turn that part off, the part that picks apart every detail in the world into quantifiable data. His memories may be gone, but whatever that crazy bat guy trained into him has stayed in his head as muscle memory. Ric couldn’t escape it if he tried. He drinks his beer, side-eyeing the guy. “Never met anyone who goes to a bar for a soda.” The guy doesn’t...he doesn’t flinch, exactly. But there’s the slightest of shivers that runs through his frame as if hearing Ric’s voice does something to him, even though he’s the one who sat next to Ric in the first place despite the plenty of empty stools around them. Maybe he’s lonely. Maybe he’s just a weirdo. Whatever this guy is, he recovers quickly. “You can’t exactly get a Coke with three cherries from your neighborhood grocer.” “You can if you make it at home.” The guy’s mouth quirks. “Then I’m here for the wonderful atmosphere.” Now that Dick is facing him, he can see that the guy has bright red hair that curls in front of his forehead, wind-blown like he spends his life riding on top of a bullet train. His eyes are green and practically every inch of visible skin is sprinkled with freckles. “If you’re looking for atmosphere, you’re sure as hell not going to find it here,” Ric says. “This place is the pits.” “Then how come you’re here?” Ric shrugs. “For the moldy buffalo wings and terrible service, of course.” The guy laughs and, for whatever reason, Ric gets the impression that it’s the first real laugh he’s had in a long time. The bartender serves up his soda, cherries and all. “I’ve got to be honest, Blüdhaven is even worse than I remember it. Ever since that bat guy disappeared, it’s like all I hear about Blüd now is how much the crime has escalated.” “Nightwing,” Ric corrects before he can stop himself. “His name was Nightwing.” “Right, Nightwing. What do you think happened to him?” He got shot in the head. Not that Ric can tell that to a complete stranger. Then again, he’s been meeting far too many “complete strangers” lately who turn out to be anything but. They try to worm their way into Ric’s life as if they know him, as if they have some kind of a claim on him. “Have we met before?” he asks. He tries to do it casually to cushion the blow of completely changing the subject, but it’s hard to remember what casual even is anymore. “You seem...familiar.” The guy plasters on a smile. “Just have one of those faces, I guess.” “Says every person who’s ever pretended not to know someone.” That gets another laugh. Maybe he’s just a happy guy? Definitely not from around here, then. “I’m from Central City, actually. Just here for the weekend. I was trying to track down an old friend.” “And did you find him?” The guy’s eyes dim, but he keeps up some of the smile, like he’s mourning a memory. “Nope. He skipped town pretty recently and has been missing since.” “Sorry to hear that.” The guy drinks his soda. “How about you? What keeps you in a place like Blüdhaven?” “Believe it or not, this is the only place I’ve been in so far that’s felt like home.” He’s already buzzing from the beer combined with the whiskey this morning and the vape he bummed off a couple guys earlier. Might as well go all in. “I got shot in the head a while ago and since then, I’ve been a clean slate.” He points to the scar on his scalp, but he doesn’t have to. A goddamn aircraft could see that thing from orbit. “It’s hard to figure out ‘home’ again when every place you go is filled with too many people who know and care about you, you know?” “You and I have very different definitions of ‘home’ then. The way I see it, home is wherever the people who love you are.” “You’d be surprised. It’s more like leeches, really. Or a landlord begging for rent even after you’ve moved out. It’s fucking exhausting.” He gulps down the rest of the beer and gestures to the bartender for another. Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Ric, by the way. With a C.” “Wally. With a W.” “That’s a tragedy.” “And Ric isn’t?” That makes Ric laugh. The weird part is that, at the heart of whatever this is, there’s something natural about laughing with this random person. Wally. It feels familiar, like this is someone important, as insane as that sounds. He blames it on the alcohol, but he could almost convince himself that this Wally guy is something vital he’s been missing. But Ric has seen the files Batman showed him while he was futilely trying to jog Ric’s memory. There was nothing about anyone named Wally in there, so he’s in the clear. “So,” Wally says, “amnesia, huh? And I thought I had problems.” “You have no idea. Weirdly enough, the amnesia part isn’t even the worst of it. I can deal with having no memories. The real problem is everyone else’s memories trying to force their way into mine. Everybody remembers me as somebody else, but they can’t understand that the man they knew is long gone. It’s pathetic.” “Can you blame them? If someone I loved forgot who he was, I’d want to bring him back too.” “Then you’ve never had to deal with lost memories before. Everyone talks about how amnesia can be a blessing in disguise, giving you a reset on life. But it’s more like being dropped in the middle of a sports game where you don’t know the rules or who your teammates are, and everyone’s waiting for you to just get with the program and kick the ball somewhere.” Wally bites a cherry off its stem. “What I wouldn’t give for that.” At Ric’s questioning look, he says, “I have two kids. Twins, Jai and Irey. They’re...they were incredible. They were the lights of my life. Then there was...something happened. I lost them both, and now all I have left of them are memories. But I swear to god, sometimes it feels like having the memories hurts a million times worse than losing them in the first place.” Well, shit. By the looks of him, Wally can’t be more than twenty-four, twenty-six years old. Losing two kids so young must be hell on earth. That Damian kid said stuff about how Dick was like a second father figure to him and how when Damian was dead, the greatest relief after coming back was that Dick wouldn’t have to mourn him anymore. But Ric doesn’t remember any of that. If he ever did lose Damian like he said, it means nothing to Ric now. Dick may have lost a child, but Ric didn’t. Wally swallows thickly, drinks his soda until his throat clears. “So trust me, I get wanting to forget. But if you want my advice, I say hold on to your family for as long as you can, even if you don’t want to. You never know how much time you’ll have with them.” Ric honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. “I’m...I’m sorry, man.” Wally clears his throat, forces a smile, but each one is dimmer than the last. “It’s fine. But you see why I don’t drink.” He doesn’t elaborate, but Ric gets the message: Because if I did start drinking, I would never stop. “I can’t even imagine losing someone like that,” Ric says, sipping his fresh glass of beer. “I know my parents are dead, but my memories are so messed up that I don’t remember much of it. And even though I can’t remember anything after that day, it still feels like it happened twenty years ago. I’ve never had to grieve anyone but myself.” “It helps to have people around you, for one thing. That friend I mentioned, the one who skipped town? We used to have a system that whenever one of us was having a bad day, we’d go down to that gay bar a few blocks from here and stay there until we forgot what we were upset about.” After a second, he asks, “You ever been there?” Ric resists the urge to grimace. “I’m straight, actually. That kind of stuff...it’s not really my thing.” Wally blinks at him. “You’re kidding.” “Excuse me?” “Nothing. That’s just...surprising.” “Okay?” This wouldn’t be the first time someone’s accused Ric of being queer. Just because he likes mesh shirts and the occasional crop top doesn’t mean he’s gay, okay? He’s as straight as an arrow. “No, that’s not—I mean...I don’t know what I mean.” Wally shakes his head. “It’s easy to forget that not everyone lives the same life you do, I guess.” Ric clinks his glass with Wally’s. “Cheers to that.” Ric can’t explain what about this conversation makes him feel more comfortable than he has in weeks. Maybe it’s the beer. Maybe it’s the human interaction with someone who isn’t another bar-hopping asshole or part of his old “family” trying to bring him back to a home that isn’t his. Ric has spent so long driving strangers to their destinations in his taxi, sleeping under a new roof every night, gambling his money away and drinking himself into oblivion as long as he can afford it. But here, with Wally, he feels settled. His head clears, and it’s such a foreign sensation that he stops for a moment just to let himself soak in it. “How long are you staying in Blüd, Walls?” He doesn’t mean to say the nickname, it just slips out of him like a bar of soap between slick hands. Wally doesn’t seem to mind. He even smiles, and Ric can’t help but wonder if the friend he was talking about used to call him that. “This is my last night, actually. I’m going to this mental health facility in Nebraska for a while to recharge. I just wanted to see my friend one last time before I left.” “I’m sorry you couldn’t find him.” “Yeah. Me too.” Wally downs the rest of his drink and stands, tossing a few bills on the counter. “I should probably head out. It was nice talking to you, Ric.” Ric shakes his hand again. “You too. Track me down if you ever find yourself in Blüd again. It’ll be nice seeing a familiar face for once.” “You got it.” Wally turns to go but stops at the door, one hand mid-twist on the knob. He looks back at Ric. “Don’t forget me again, okay?” He’s gone before Ric can answer, the door closing behind him. Ric was lying before, when he talked about the worst part of being an amnesiac. The worst part isn’t the missing twenty years, or the annoying family members, or the fact that he can name all fifty states but can’t remember whether he likes mustard or not. It isn’t any of those things. The worst part is knowing about the past that waits for him to sink back into it even though he can’t, no matter how hard he tries. It’s struggling with the fact that he has a whole family he doesn’t recognize but who loves him more than he’s ever seen a person be loved before. It’s seeing that love, witnessing the lengths they go to just to have their Dick back, but not being able to feel any of it because that isn’t his life. It’s not Ric’s love to have, and it never will be. Dick Grayson may be dead, but the love he earned is eternal. And that, right there? That’s what hurts the most.

[wastelandcth]

lovebug - cth

summary: a moment captured by ashton leads to an engagement present that the doves had no idea would ever exist. 

author’s notes: alright guys, this is all thanks to the most amazing ask that left me floored and eager to write this up. i hope you all enjoy this and that lovebug is stuck in your head as it was mine for the past couple of days. 

warnings: pure fluff and dovey (for once) being a soft human towards her soulmate, calum. 

masterlist || request

It had happened almost by accident, a moment that was meant to be shared by just the two of them. But Ashton found himself in a lot of these moments when it came to Calum and Dovey, in little pockets of time where it seemed like they were both too lost in one another to realize anything else. He'd been early, the first guest to the monthly band family dinner that the Doves had been hosting since moving into their new house a few months back, Dovey claiming that they needed an excuse to use their new kitchen and what better way than celebrating with the band. He'd walked in through the side door which he knew Calum always kept unlocked since it was closer to his home studio and the guys could just come in and work on songs without ringing the doorbell and having Duke bark up a storm. He had expected to see the two of them procrastinating on making dinner, which was usually the case when it came to band dinner night, but he was instead met by the two of them dancing along to lovebug, a song that reminded Ashton of the Doves in general. He wasn't even sure why he did it but in an instant, he had his phone out and he was recording the moment, a fond smile on his face as he watched his best friend fall further in love. 

Calum loved family band night, he loved being able to spend time with his brothers and their partners, and he especially loved the part where he got to show Dovey new recipes to cook together. They'd been making a new Italian recipe, the smell of fresh tomatoes and herbs filling the kitchen as they both worked in silence, the only sound around them was of the knife against the chopping board and the music playing from the speaker on the counter. Calum had been lost in cutting up some basil that he almost missed the soft gasp that left Dovey when she heard the familiar guitar notes playing from the speaker. Calum recognized the song almost immediately, knowing that it was one of Dovey's favorites because as she had told Calum multiple times during their car rides or when cooking, "the Jonas Brother's were the best band ever and no one, not even The Beatles could compare. Well except maybe your band, Cal, but even then, Lovebug is a banger." Calum never argued with her on that because he knew how special the band was to her and she wasn't wrong, Lovebug was an absolute banger. 

Calum had set the knife down on the counter and made his way over to Dovey, his arms wrapping around her waist as he sang quietly along to the song. He couldn't help but smile as he saw the way Dovey's eyes lit up and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, to pull him in closer. They were both singing to one another, swaying along to the guitar as the world seem to just blur until it was just the two of them swaying and taking each other in. 

It wasn't long until the song started to speed up and Dovey pulled away from him, a fond look still in her eyes as she squeezed both of his hands in hers. Calum had been admiring her ever since he pulled her into his arms, wishing things could always be this way and the pressure of touring or promoting would go away. He hadn't told anyone yet, besides Mali who had gone with him to what seemed like every jewelry store in Los Angeles, but there was a box with a ring in it hidden in his office. He'd bought it a month before, his heart racing every time he thought about getting down on one knee to ask Dovey to spend the rest of their lives together, to become one. He'd been trying to plan the perfect time to ask her, to make it a day she wouldn't forget but it just seemed like life kept getting in the way and Calum kept getting whisked off to a different city for a performance. He'd been planning on taking her next time he was pushed onto an airplane and just ask her in the most romantic spot he could find but-

"Now I'm! YEEEEAAAAHOW!" 

Calum's thoughts were once again interrupted by Dovey, who had seemed to take her performance of the song from dancing with Calum to a full on air guitar performance while she bounced around him. Calum's laugh echoed through the kitchen as he watched the love of his life rock out to a Jonas Brothers’ song while they were meant to be making dinner. He couldn't help but join in on the fun, whipping his head back and forth as he joined Dovey in playing out the guitar riff as he sang along, knowing that Dovey was the one for him and that he was going to be marrying her one day. 

Ashton, who had been staring at the couple and recording them, stifled his laughter and shook his head as he watched them both dance along to the song. He slipped out of the hallway, making his way back to the side yard as the two lovebirds were left panting and in a fit of giggles from their performance. After looking back at the video, he opened up his messages with Calum and was about to hit send when Calum walked out of the house and called his name, the message long forgotten as he saw Calum struggling to juggle a bag of recycling and a very excited Duke on a leash. 

Ashton had gotten a call a few weeks later, Calum speaking way too fast for him to understand and sounding like he had just run a marathon. After telling him to calm down and take a deep breath, Ashton couldn't help but chuckle as he heard the good news about an engagement and Calum asking him to be his best man. Without hesitation, Ashton agreed and congratulated the couple as he switched the call to Facetime, grinning as he saw the Doves with flushed cheeks and teary eyes. With promises of a celebration of their engagement and another round of congratulations, Ashton hung up the phone before Dovey could start crying again and started planning a time where everyone could get together. 

It had started off as a group chat, late one night when Ashton's worries about not getting a present for the Doves' engagement party had him scrolling through homeware websites until all he could think about was Dutch ovens and air fryers. He'd sent out a message to everyone he could think of that had had the honor of spending time with the two weirdos known as the Doves, it was a simple request really, one he knew he'd get plenty of replies from.

"Can you guys send me any videos you have from the Doves?"

It wasn't long before he and Andy were looking through all the videos Ashton had received and sorted through the best clips. After a few hours filled with both of them laughing at how perfect Calum and Dovey were for one another, Ashton's present was complete and ready for the Doves to see. 

Calum had been obsessed with holding Dovey's hand ever since she had started wearing her engagement ring, running his hand over the thing gold band every time he had the chance to. Whenever they were out running errands or hanging out with their friends, his hand would be tightly grasped in hers, his eyes looking down at the ring every once in a while to admire it. Even as Calum drove them to the address that Ashton had texted them at the beginning of the week, with promises of free booze and a celebration of their big news, Calum couldn't help but glance at the ring that was adorning Dovey's hand. 

The party had been filled with lots of congrats from the Doves' friends and family who had all found themselves in a courtyard hidden in the middle of the wine country where flowers decorate the walls and love flowed throughout. It was filled with delicious food and a lot of champagne, not that anyone was complaining too much. But it wasn't until Dovey and Calum found themselves in the middle of everyone facing a projector screen that Ashton had been setting up for the past few minutes with Andy that everyone had settled in their seats and waited with anticipation. Calum looked around the crowd, confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to figure out why everyone was watching them both him and Dovey. 

"So as we all know, we're here to celebrate the fact that these two lovebirds have finally decided to tie the knot!" Ashton grinned as he clapped his hands and chuckled when everyone followed him. "And to celebrate that, our good friend Andy and I have decided to make a video, with the help of many of you here today, to show exactly why these two lovebirds were meant to meet." 

Calum's head cocked to the side as he listened to his best man speak, his eyebrow raising as the projector screen switched from plain white into a picture of him and Dovey with a kangaroo when they had visited Calum's family back home and taken a trip to the zoo. As the picture faded, Calum heard Dovey's laugh playing out from the speaker near the projector, a video of her and Calum from one of the many game nights they'd attended playing out. 

As the rest of the video played out, Calum's laugh joined Dovey as the scene switched and a video of both of them at the latest album release dancing along to Wildflower. Different moments in time showed the way Calum and Dovey's relationship seemed to be something more than either of them realized, something more than just two people who loved each other. It was moments where Dovey was laughing over Calum spotted her from the stage and they both waved at one another, moments where they were both asleep on a couch while their friends argued over the rules of a game, moments where they seemed too lost in one another to even notice anyone recording them. 

Calum glanced over to Dovey, who had been watching the video while squeezing his hand every time she laughed, she had a soft look on her face, one she rarely ever showed to anyone except for Calum when sleep was so tempting but she wanted to stay up and talk the night away. Her eyes were focused on the video that was playing in front of them, too lost in reliving those moments where she thought that no one had been watching nevertheless recording. It wasn't until Calum heard the familiar notes to a song that Dovey loved that he saw the tears forming in her eyes. His own eyes moved back to the screen, watching that moment from weeks ago in their kitchen where they had danced along to a Jonas Brothers' song and had gotten lost in each other, never realizing that Ashton had been recording them. 

It was the moment when Calum had realized that he had needed to ask her to marry him as soon as he could, it was the day where after everyone had left Calum had booked them a trip away where the two of them could take each other in and where no one could stop him from asking her what had been on his mind for a while now. It was all in front of him and Calum felt the breath sucked out of him as he once again was hit with the realization that Dovey, who would have dance parties with him in the kitchen and then proceed to fight with him over the fact that celery was not a delicious treat, was his soulmate and there was no way he was ever going to let go of her, the ring on her finger shining almost as bright as their smiles as the video ended with the one and only, Lovebug. 

[popculturebuffet]

Pinky and the Brain: A Pinky And the Brain Christmas Review or I Just Think Schotzie’s Neat

Christmas Continues on this blog... and getting away from one set of Christmas commissions and into another, I offered my friend Blahdiddy three commissions as a present. The other two we’ll get to eventually, but with Animaniacs on the brain, heh, due to the reboot, he selected two Pinky and the Brains and one Animaniacs for me to cover. And while I intended to cover this one sometime this month anyway, my friend’s recent and sad covid diagnosis meant i’m bumping this one all the way up to the front of the line so he has some christmas cheer during this rough time. So with that in mind let’s talk about pinky, pinky and the brain brain brain brain brain shall we? Of course we can’t really talk about pinky and the brain without talking about Animaniacs. I absolutely love the series, I grew up with it as a kid and reconnected with it as an adult when it ended up on netflix. It was smart, well animated and most importantly really fucking funny. I highly recommend checking both the original and reboot of it out some time if you have Hulu. Speaking of the reboot while I might go on in full about it at some point it’s pretty good, with some creatvie jokes, some nice updates, with Rita Anita Anrita being a great new addition to the warner side of things. It’s only real flaw is it gets a bit reptitious as for the most part there’s only really the warners and pinky and the brain with a few exceptions one of which DAMN well deserved at least two segments and we all know which one that is. 

Bring.. this.. to series. The warners and pinky and the brain segments weren’t bad, but as is inevitible in a screwball comedy some just weren’t as good as others and those fell harder when you’ve already seen 2 or 3 better versions of this sort of skit in the season. They did really find their groove towards the end and if you like both Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain, or even just one or the other, it’s worth checking out.  But enough about the reboot let’s talk about those labratory mice whose genes have been spliced. Thanks to wikipedia, I now know the duo were based on Eddie Fitzgerald and Tom Minton, who worked with Tom Rutgeter on Tiny Toon adventures, with menton being the one who came up with Narf, even saying it in one episode of Tiny Tunes. During the creation of animaniacs, Bruce Timm, yes THE Bruce Timm, sketched the two, and Ruetger added mouse ears and the rest was history. Maurice LaMarche was the one who added the Orson Welles to the character, as LaMarche saw the Orson Welles in Brain, ran with it and got the part and a long and storied career in voice acting as a result. In a nice and fitting bit of contrast, Rob Paulsen got the part.. because he was already on the show. Not to downplay Paulsen’s clear talent, I just find it hilarious. 

That’s about what I could dig up on the behind the scenes of the show. From what I can tell it was greenlit because Animaniacs was a massive it, and Pinky and the Brain was the most popular segment, so it just made sense. The show would likewise be a massive sucess with both adults and kids, and go on for three seasons and what should legally be considered a war crime. 

For those of you blissfully unaware yeah, that happened, no no one people actually LIKED from Tiny Toons was in it. And yeah if you want me to talk about it commission it otherwise not going near this one. While I do need to tackle more bad animation... I’ve successfully avoided watching an episode of this show for 22 years next wedsday, I’m not breaking the streak for free. 

But some.. things aside I remembered liking the series as a kid but just never got around to seeking it out as an adult. I had nothing against the animaniacs segments and I even still have a stuffed brain doll I got at a garage sale.. the pinky is sadly missing and persumed dead. I just wasn’t as bit into it as I was the slappy bits rewatching animaniacs and didin’t really see reason to watch the show. Watching this though made me realize I was wrong and I probably watch more of it in the future This special is damn good, i’m pleased ot review it and to revive and old childhood memory. So with all the exposition out of the way let’s talk Pinky, PInky and the brain brain brain brain christmas edition after the cut. 

This was indeed a special: while it was presumably produced with season one of the show and is packaged with it both on DVD and on Hulu, where I watched it, the special was aired in prime time and even put on it’s own VHS.. which I found out and of course, like with my review of the Darkwing Duck Pilot, had to use as the art for old VHS’ tapes for cartoons.. was really fucking beautiful and it’s a nice break from my traditional screencaps.   So we open with a clever Christmas rendition of the theme, frequently sprinkling in bits of other christmas stuff, utterly fantastic. The intro animation is less impressive as it’s literally just the regular intro but with a stock snow effect over everything. In case you thought Ducktales doing that was a new thing. I do not blame the team however, as apparently they only had a week to get the scripts out, so I highly doubt warner was forking out more cash for the animation than they had to. They still forked out enough to make it LOOK really good mind you, something I wish they’d do more often with their DTV Movies but do do with their animated shows still with certain exceptions so good on them, i’m just saying they clearly cared more about money than having a memorable christmas opening. Given a budget to actually make one, i’m sure the animators would’ve come up with something lovely, and i’m sure the same is true of Ducktales and other shows and like i’ve said, i’m highly in favor of shows actuallly doing unique openings for the holidays, especially since Holiday episodes tend to get reaired every year as long as the show is in circulation on the network. Sometimes even if it isn’t. So it’s fully worth the effort to fork out a little extra for this as while you’ll most likely only use it once, you’ll be using the special for years. You can afford to treat yourself networks come on. It’s...

Just like Pinky, Elmyra and the Brain. But onto the episode itself after 80 years. We find Pinky writing his Christmas list to santa, complete with Narf, a gag I like. As usual for a comedy show, I will try to gloss over as much of the gags as possible, to avoid repetttion but yeah this episode is really damn funny and reminded me just how good these characters are. Maurice and Rob just have perfect chemistry. It’s like Tom and Jerry: It’s a very simple premise, that one being “Cat chases mouse and Mouse beats shit out of mouse”, and pinky and the brain of course being “Super genuis mouse and dimwitted but loveable sidekick try and takeover the world eveyr night”. But a simple premise can be used just about anywhere and adapated for anything. To me a cartoon’s premise only has to be as complicated as it needs to be to work. Sometimes you have a vast complex tapestry behind the world like She Ra, Steven Universe or Avatar with lots of planning and ins and outs and deep character stuff.. and sometimes you just have two mice who get into shenanigans because one is a would be dictator who sounds like orson welles and the other’s a loveable british weirdo/moron. Sometimes simple just works. 

Anyways, Brain, noticing Pinky’s distracted and replaces himself with a horrifying poorly made doll of himself called Noodle Noggin, which is both an excellent name and not the only time they’d use the name either, as there was an animaniacs short about Brain making himself a fad to endear himself to the children of the future with the same name. It’s just an inherently funny set of words, but also shows Brain’s genius in a subtle and clever way as he never spells it out, but despite sounding kind of ridiculous for such a buttoned up intellectual like brain... he knows that’s the kind of name kids will eat up. His schemes may often fail, but he’s an objectively brilliant schemer and i’ts often either PInky’s incompetence or his own miscalculation of humanity, either over or underestimating them, that undoes Brain.  Back to the plot, so Brain’s plan is to distribute noodle noggins around the world, make it the hot new toy, and as always, take over the world. Problem is naturally two Mice simply don’t have the resources to make the billions of dolls. But PInky stumbles upon the solution in the paper: a want ad for elves! Everything about that sentence except “pinky stumbles upon the solution” has not aged paticuarlly well, but point is they have a plan and we have our christmas special.  This does bring me to my one problem with the special.. Brain’s weird inconsistency towards Santa. What I mean is he spends the portion doubting Santa can do anything he’s claimed to despite being proven frequently he can. That part is not all that annoying as it’s in character with him and while yes, he is a talking mouse, he’s also a man of science and reason and Santa is the opposite of that. That would be fine... IF it wasn’t for the fact that said magical bollocks weren’t constantly part of his plans. Despite Brain constantly throughought the special doubting Santa... his plans FREQUENTLY rely on everything we’ve heard about him being right. His initial plan here ENTIRELY runs on the fact Santa has a massive workforce to make the toys yet even if that’s true by Brain’s own logic, he wouldn’t be able to deliver them. Later when the boys need to escape, They hide with the Reindeer despite Brain just saying santa can’t be everywhere in one night.. which if he can’t then the odds are slim he’ll wind up at Acme Labs isn’t it? It would be fine if the special acknowledged any of this outside of one bit we’ll get to, but other than that one bit.. they don’t. IT’s just really frustrating and really sticks out since the rest of the special is perfection, so this one failing bit really grates. That being said, it dosen’t last long enough to really drag the episode down as a whole, just to annoy me a bit every so often. It speaks to the episodes quality that the bad part ONLY drags so much because everything else is so well put together.  So our boys head to the north pole with the help of a kooky pilot and a santa dummy, this pilot is voiced by Tress MacNeile and is easily one of the best parts of the special. And naturally given their luck, she asks them to take the wheel so the plane instead jerks and causes them to fall out. Luckily they end up near Santa’s workshop and soon apply for temp work with local head of things and gruff type Shotzie, played by Jeff Bennett. And yes that is his name.  I like Shotzie: he’s a goateed elf and Bennett just plays him well.. hard to explain honestly I may just like his name and Bennett’s voice for him, one he used before in animanaics for various bit parts and in shows after this, it’s just a voice i’ve always liked. 

They get put to work in the mail room, which is the bit I mentioned: Brain earlier scoffed at Santa answering all the letters with Pinky simply suggesting that Santa had his elves go through all of them. Turns out Pinky was right... while he may be a BIT stupid, one intresting thing i’ve found about Pinky after watching the reboot that ironically the friend who comissioned this and I discussed is that he’s not ENTIRELY stupid, it’s just , much like Dan from Dan Vs his knowledge is just random.. he can not know how a lot of things work, but sometimes like in this instance Pinky generally just GETS something. It’s part of why he and Brain are such a good team despite their failures: Brain is all about planning and thought and research, Pinky is about intuition and gut instinct. He just does things and it often works out. This also makes their recently added backstories all the more brilliant as they explain this well: Pinky started life just being told to find the diffrence in cheeses and thus was taught form childhood to trust in himself and his weird brain. Brain was cruelly torturued with an experiment on learned behaviors via electroshock, and was taught to never give up control again, to always know what’s going on and to always control it. It perfectly sums up who the two are and why they are that way.  Brain however quickly pivots, as the mail room ends up being the perfect location to start his plans. Since their job is to file away what each person wants Brain simply adds Noodle Noggin to it and plans to put his plans into the workshop. While Santa and Schotzie are suprised and baffled, Santa quickly adds it to the list. However things hit a snag when Schotzie gets supscious when the two try to sneak into the blueprint room to drop theirs off and he accidently yanks off their disguises leading to a REALLY fun chase scene, as the boys end up in a toy wherehouse and thus try out various toy cars: a barbie dream car that dosen’t have a working motor, a toy truck that dosen’t go very fast, and finally an rc car that while fast naturally just means Schotzie can grab it and capture them. It’s easily my faviorite scene of the episode just for how clever it is and as someone whow as a kid around the time this came out, I applaud the accuracy.. granted I didn’t have any of those personally but I had lots of friends so yeah. 

So our heroes are interrogated.. and again Brain brilliantly pivots. Schotzie assumes since they have the blueprints their spies for the easter bunny or the tooth fairy or Herschel, the Hanukah Goblin. Why Herschel never got his own Hannukah special trying to stop Pinky and the Brain from using it to take over the world, I genuinely do not know and that’s something the reboot really needs to adress in the future. Seriously Hannukah needs a mascot and it’s either Herschel or the Hannukah Zombie. Kwanza already has Kwanzabot. I want to see more of Herschel the Hannukah Goblin dammit!. I love goblins. Especially this one.

And this one

And most of all this one

I likes goblins. It’s a thing. So anyway, point is Schotize has the blueprints taken in while our boys slip out and sucessfully make their way outside, though they have to find a way home to turn on the mind control device. They see Santa and brain being a dick refuses to let pinky hand in his letter.. but does as mentioned earlier have them pose as reindeer.  So our heroes make their way home and in time to be able to activate the device once santa’s route’s finished!

And.. then land directly on the mind control device thing, meaning they now have to scramble to repair it. Oh and Pinky is inconsolable after realizing Santa didn’t get his letter and Brain is a HUGE dick about it. Easily the worst i’ve seen him just far more focused on his machine than his friend’s wel lbeing especially since ALL he needs from pinky is for him to throw one lousy switch. 

But we then get easily the best part of the entire special. As Brain scrambles to rebuild his device while abusing his best friend we get a really nice tense sequence as Brain rebuilds while kids all over the world warmly receive noodle noggin. I mean.. it’s not the creepiest doll I’ve seen a kid enjoy. 

Also Bill Clinton gets one because the series apparently really likes “Bill Clinton is stupid jokes” Oh you poor innocent dears who haven’t had to suffer through the president being revealed to be a sexual predator, the one after him being even dumber if not a predator, the one after that being easily one of the best people around, and the outgoing one being a waking nightmare whose both a preadator and dumb beyond all comprehension ina dangerous and soul crushing way. 

But yeah onto the good part, Brain, for whatever reason, reads the letter.. and finds Pinky asked for nothing. He just wanted to give Brain the world at long last, recognizing his friend really and genuinely means well for it and that he’s worked hard to conquer it. And with that goal in reach, with the very thing he’s always wanted his... Brain instead uses the device to wish a merry christmas. He sees through his friend’s kindess and selflessness that he himself.. has been selfish once again turning something into a world destroying plot and being cruel to his best friend... when all his best friend wanted was to selflessly make sure he finally got what he wanted. It’s then that Brain, for all his cold and cynical logic and superiority complex, realized the true meaning of christmas, which i’ve said before and i’ll say again: it’s about giving, about giving someone something with your heart and soul just to be nice with no expectation of something in return. It’s about being selfless for once instead of selfish. I’ts about love. And Brain loves his friend too much to destroy his faviorite holiday. For once the world can wait.. and for once they all join in saying merry christmas to one another and in love and camradire. And I know not everyone celebrates christmas, there are other winter holidays and not everyone in the world would willingly do this. I know all that.. but the special has such a well meaning message, I really can’t be mad at that or get into the weeds too much> This isn’t some jackass making an entire movie, of which there have been several, saying “There’s a war on christmas” which instead equates to them just bitching about not everyone celebrating HIS holiday. It’s about a mouse for one moment truly being selfless and putting ihs loyal and faithful friend over his greatest want to give him a nice christmas and to do something nice for the world instead of trying to take it. And that.. that’s really damn heartmelting.  So we end on the two exchanging presents, with it being a little extra heartwarming as Brain likely already got Pinky something meaning even before his big revelation, he really does care beneath all the dope slaps. Pinky got him a keychain of the world and rather than be frustrated like you’d think.. Brain just takes it in stride. It is christmas after all.. the world.. it can wait. For now it’s just the two of them having one moment in time, this merry christmas.  Final Thoughts: If it wasn’t obvious, I loved this freaking special. It’s funny, clever and has one hell of an ending. There isn’t much more to say other than go watch it if you have Hulu.. you will not regret it and a sepcial thanks to Blah for comissioning this. it was an amazing time and is now a competitor for a spot on my best christmas special list. For now though it’s just really good and I say go check it out. Merry christmas, happy holidays and later days. 

[batterycityghoul]

I’ve Got a Broken Mask (Ben Hargreeves/Reader)

Requested by @gurlimtired​ who asked: “Hello there! Would you write a Ben x reader, where Ben and Klaus realized earlier in the 60s, that Ben can possess him and Ben spend a day in his skin. And while he's enjoying himself and the fact that he has a body he meets reader in kind of an awkward way (like he's palms a random thing, or just run around barefoot in the town) and after that they spend the day together?”

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took me so long! I’ve been so nervous about this, but I really hope you like this. Sorry this turned out kind of angsty. 💖 Title comes from Here Comes the End by Gerard Way. 

 "Alright, Benny boy, we've got a few rules to go over before I give you free reign of this," Klaus emphasized as he gestured up and down his body.  

"Really, Klaus? What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Well, if you were me, and you will be," Klaus started as he tucked his hair behind his ear, "then you're going to want to get up to all kinds of trouble."

"Klaus, I'm not you. That's the whole point of this, remember?" Ben couldn't help but point out, already lowkey regretting his acceptance of Klaus’ gift.  

Upon getting thrown into the 60s, Klaus and Ben had to learn how to totally rely on each other for company. Klaus' cult came gradually to him, but Ben was the only one who actually knew him. On the other hand, Klaus was the only person Ben could actually communicate with on a regular basis.  

Ben loved Klaus. Of course he did. He wouldn't have stuck around after his death if he didn't want to spend time with his brother. He just didn't realize he was signing up for going on seventeen years of an endless cycle with Klaus.  

He would try to get Klaus to listen to him and Klaus chose to do what Klaus wanted to do.

Even though he was usually annoyed by his antics, Ben still agreed to help Klaus gain favor with his benefactors, because at the end of the day, he couldn't stand to see Klaus hurt. Did he think Klaus' ego was getting a little out of control now that he had a horde of mindless followers? Possibly. But he didn't want to see Klaus homeless or starving. So, he did what he had to do in order to help Klaus adjust to life after getting unceremoniously dumped in the early 1960s.  

It didn't mean that there weren't fights between them. Sometimes, Ben got so frustrated with Klaus that he just wanted to scream.  

It was during a fight in 1961 when they realized Ben could possess Klaus. He would never forget the cold shock of phasing through Klaus' body followed by the delight of discovery.  

Klaus wasn't pleased by the prospect, but he started coming around once Ben explained about his experience as a ghost. He told him about not having any freedom. He couldn't eat or drink or sleep. He could read, but he couldn't smell the books or feel their pages beneath his fingers. He missed talking to someone who wasn't Klaus. He had to do what Klaus wanted, because he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't go to the park when he wanted to just sit outside and read and he couldn't see the ocean or savor the smell of it.  

He just wanted to live, even if it was through Klaus.  

They kept working on it until Klaus began to grow a tolerance for having Ben inhabit his body. At first, they could only go for a few minutes before Klaus had to tap out. As time wore on, Klaus started to be able to handle it for hours without getting sick.  

Ben knew that it was a lot to ask from Klaus. And even though they still fought, he appreciated that Klaus would let him experience all of the little trivial things he didn't realize he would miss once he was dead.  

The only stipulation was that Ben always stayed around the cult. They were usually in some new and interesting place, so it wasn't much of a hardship, but he was starting to mourn other things he couldn't do around them.  

That was why when October approached and Klaus said he had a birthday present for him, Ben was more than a little skeptical.  

"You've never given me a birthday present. Ever," Ben helpfully pointed out.  

"Well, there's a first time for everything, Benarino. And besides, I'm sure this will make up for the past thirty something years," Klaus claimed with a smirk.  

It turned out that Klaus' present was a day in his body.  

"Now, you can go wherever you want. Do whatever you want. Just no hanky panky. Well..." Klaus mused with a thoughtful expression.

"Klaus," Ben groaned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Can you be serious for once?"

"Hey, I'm the one handing out the day passes here, buddy," Klaus reminded him as he pointed a finger in his face. "I'm letting you enter this private sexy temple of mine," Klaus continued as he ran a hand down his own chest, "and I didn't even make you buy me a drink first. The least you could do is be grateful."

Ben grimaced in disgust before he shook his head. "Why do you have to phrase it that way?"

Klaus shot him a grin before he turned and opened the door to his bedroom. "First rule of Fight Club," Klaus started, a smirk forming on his face at Ben's groan of protest.  

"Klaus, come on," Ben pleaded. "You've only given me a day and you're wasting it being you."  

Klaus rolled his eyes before he sighed. "You're taking the fun out of this. You know I'm going to wake up later with a killer hangover and this is how you thank me?"  

"Klaus," Ben started, doing his best to keep his calm. "I appreciate this gift."

Klaus offered him a pleased grin. "Was that so hard? Alright, go have fun in the city. Go smell some flowers or feed some ducks or whatever it is you're wanting to do." He threw his arms wide, wincing as he turned his face away. "Just be gentle."

"Thank you, Klaus," Ben told him with a sincere smile. He took a deep breath, even though he didn't need it, and stepped into Klaus' body.  

                                                       ***

You were sitting in your office working on inventory when there was a knock on the door. There was only one person who was allowed to bother you while you were doing paperwork. You groaned and looked up to see your office door slowly inching open. "What is it, Shane?"

"Uh, I know I'm not supposed to interrupt you, but there's a weirdo in the store, and I know you like to deal with those personally."

Knowing Shane, 'weirdo' could be used to describe over half the people who visited your bookstore. You still decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Be right there," you assured him.  

You heard Shane let out a sigh of relief before he closed your office door. You couldn't help the rueful grin on your face as you made sure that you were at a good stopping point. If you were lucky, then you would get out into the store just to see that Shane had been spooked by a little kid on a sugar high. It wouldn't be the first time.  

When you finally made it out to the front counter, Shane helpfully pointed towards a man sitting in the reading nook. You weren't really sure why Shane would have found the man weird until you took a closer look.  

"Seriously? Because he's barefoot?" You hissed at Shane, quirking an eyebrow at him in question. "That's not weird."

"Just wait," Shane muttered, warily watching the man.  

You sighed, but dutifully went back to observing the man sitting in one of the armchairs on the other side of the store. He was slowly flipping through the pages of a book and running his fingers lovingly over every page. It wasn't long before he brought the book up to his face and pressed his nose right into the crease. You saw him take a deep breath, as if savoring the smell, before a delighted grin broke out over his face.  

"See," Shane pointed out as he moved to swat at your arm. "Weird," he stressed with a waggle of his eyebrows.  

"He's not weird," you denied with a shake of your head. "Just give me a minute to talk to him."

You ignored Shane's warning to not get too close as you moved across the store towards the stranger. The guy was so deeply absorbed in the book in front of him that you couldn't help the tiny, fond smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.  

"Excuse me, sir?" You called as you approached the man, not wanting to startle him. "I'm afraid we have a policy about wearing shoes."

The guy's eyes snapped up to look at you. He looked confused for a moment before he looked down to where his toes were curling into the carpet beneath his feet.  

"Oh," he breathed in awe before he looked up at you again. "I didn't even notice," he confessed with a hushed tone. "It's just been so long since I've been in a bookstore and I guess I got carried away."

You noticed the way he had the book in his hands clutched almost reverently to his chest. You also caught the dog tags hanging around his neck. You thought you suddenly understood why he was so desperate for something that obviously comforted him.  

You waved Shane off when it looked like he was half a second from calling for help and moved to sit in the empty armchair near the stranger. "Just got home?" You couldn't help but wonder. He didn't look like any soldier you knew, especially with the long hair, but it was the only thing that really made sense to you.  

"Something like that," the guy muttered as he finally let the book fall into his lap. "I've only got one day."

You couldn't help the incredulous laugh that broke free when you glanced from him to the books surrounding you. "So, you chose to waste the day in my store?"

"Your store? Oh shit, I'm sorry," he said with a wince, hastily moving to stand.  

"No, just wait," you stalled him with a hand on his arm.  

He looked so thrown off by your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm that you were quick to let go.  

"I just meant that if you only have one day back home, then why aren't you spending it doing something else? Something more exciting?"

"It's been so long since I've been able to really hold a book that it was all I could think about," he offered with a shrug of his shoulders. You watched a tiny, helpless grin steal across his face as he ran his fingers along the cover of the book in his lap. "Being here felt like coming home," he confided as he glanced at you.  

You considered him for a few moments, feeling almost helplessly drawn in by him. "I'm Y/N," you finally offered, holding out your hand for him to shake.  

"Ben," the guy answered as he let his hand grasp yours. You noticed the way his fingertips brushed against your palm as he let go, as if he wanted to keep contact as long as possible.  

"Well, Ben," you started as you leaned forward in your seat, offering him a sincere smile. "Why don't you let me take you to lunch? It's the least I can do," you told him as you gestured towards his dog tags.  

Ben frowned down at the tags, as if just realizing he was wearing them. "Oh, I'm not--" he started, reaching up to hesitantly touch them, but stopping before his fingers wrapped around the chain. "I mean, not really," he continued, looking lost for a moment. He sighed and met your gaze, his brows furrowed in frustration for a moment, before his expression smoothed out. "You know what? That sounds nice."

"Let me just go make sure Shane over there can hold down the fort and I'll be back," you assured him as you moved to stand.  

When you left Ben, you noticed he resumed studying the book in his hands. There was a small, pleased smile on his face and you couldn't help but hope that it was partly because of you.  

"Are you crazy?" Shane asked once you told him what you were doing. "He could be a psycho! He could murder you the second he gets you alone."

"He's not getting me alone," you told him, barely managing to not roll your eyes. "Just promise me you'll lock up, okay?"

Shane squinted at you, visibly warring between concern and irritation, before he sighed. "Got it," he finally conceded. "Go on your date."

"It's not a date," you corrected him before you moved back towards your office to grab your bag. You felt a momentary flare of guilt for abandoning your paperwork, but you knew you would be back for it later. Besides, it wasn't every day you offered to buy a random guy a meal.  

When you got back out into the store, it was to see Ben standing near the front door, nervously shifting on his feet. He looked like he wasn't sure if he was still welcome, so you made sure to greet him with a warm grin.  

"Ready to go?" You asked as you moved to stand near his side.  

"Yeah," he quickly agreed. "Shall we?"  

"Just give me one moment," you told him as you moved to dig through your bag, searching for your wallet. "You'll probably need some shoes if we're going to eat somewhere," you reminded him before you flashed him a reassuring grin. "There's a place just a few stores down that should have what you're looking for. Want to head down there and I'll meet you there in a minute?"

"Right. Shoes," Ben agreed with a shake of his head and a grimace. "You couldn't have been wearing shoes, Klaus?" You heard him mutter to himself.  

"It's no big deal," you promised him, wondering who Klaus was. "It's just a few doors that way," you informed him as you pointed to your left.  

"Right," Ben echoed as he moved to open the door to the store. You noticed him glance around the bookstore as he left, letting out a wistful sigh, before he let the door shut behind him.  

It didn't take you long to grab what you wanted and meet Ben at the apparel store. He picked out a pair of sandals he seemed to only tolerate wearing as you led him towards one of your favorite lunch spots.  

By the time you were sitting across from him, you resolved to find out as much about Ben as you could. There was a gentleness to his demeanor that you found inviting. His smile was so sweet as he thanked you for the food that you couldn’t help but want to keep making him smile.  

He told you a few random tidbits about his life. He mostly talked about his family and how he had been separated from them. He mentioned being homesick and missing his mother's cooking. He said he missed hanging out with his siblings and simply going to the movies. He missed the smell and taste of fresh fruit and he longed to see something beautiful.  

It sounded like he just really missed life.  

Even though you had only offered lunch, you still couldn't bring yourself to leave him just yet. You didn't want to impose on his one day back home, but when you suggested trying to catch a movie together, he seemed to light up at the prospect.  

You weren't really surprised when you ended up watching Ben more than you did the movie. You adored his odd little giggle at some scenes and the way his eyes went wide with wonder at others. He seemed to feel an honest sense of enjoyment out of simply being there at the movies with you that you couldn't help but begin to wish that you had more than a day to get to know him. It felt like there was so much about Ben that you had yet to unlock, but a sinking feeling in your gut told you it would never happen.  

When the movie was over, Ben seemed as reluctant to leave you as you were to leave him. There was a part of you that just wanted to reach out and hold on until he promised to stay. But you knew that wasn't fair. You knew he was just as aware of his timer running out as you were and you didn't want to add to the melancholic feeling that was beginning to creep into your interactions.  

You remembered Ben mentioning wanting to see something beautiful, so you suggested a picnic at the beach for dinner. You were worried it was a bit too romantic for two people who had only met earlier that day, but Ben seemed pleased with the idea.  

By the time you were both sitting on a blanket, each of you enjoying the sandwiches and grapes you managed to score at a small grocery store just near the beach, you were starting to dread the end of the day.  

You were content to watch Ben with his head tipped back, his hair ruffled by the wind rolling over the both of you, as he drew in a deep breath. There was a satisfied grin on his face at the smell of the salt that permeated the air.  

"Are you sure you don't have another day?" You couldn't help but ask. It seemed so unfair to you that someone who seemed so genuinely fascinated by life's little wonders wouldn't be able to enjoy them for much longer.  

"I guess I'm a bit like Cinderella," Ben admitted with a wry smirk as he cracked open an eye to squint at you. "Once today is up, all the magic disappears, and I have to be happy with what I've got."

"Well, I hope this will help," you told him as you reached for your bag. You pulled out the book he had been practically fondling in your store earlier that day and handed it over to him. "For you," you assured him when he hesitated to take it from you. "Frankenstein, huh? Wouldn't have taken you for a horror guy."

There was a sad twist to his lips as he reached out to let his fingers drift over the cover of the novel. "It seemed appropriate," he murmured as he finally let himself grab the book. "What did you think I'd be interested in?" There was a curious tilt to his head as he looked at you, his fingers still running over the book as if memorizing how it felt in his hands.  

"I don't know," you mused with a shake of your head. "Maybe you're one of those guys who's secretly into romance. Maybe you like a little fantasy. Maybe something a bit philosophical," you pondered as you moved to nudge his arm with yours.  

You almost didn't catch the movement as Ben reached out to grip your hand. He tangled your fingers together, a smug grin on his face as he let your joined hands rest on the blanket between you. "Maybe you're right," he said, an almost awed look on his face that told you he couldn't believe he was being so bold.  

You felt yourself flush at the feeling of his hand in yours. It was something you didn't know you needed until that very moment, but you couldn't even fathom having to give it up now. You squeezed his hand as you leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek.  

You caught a glimpse of the enthralled expression on his face and couldn't help but fall for him all the more.  

You spent the rest of your time on the beach just watching the waves crash onto the shore. Ben never let go of you, but you noticed him playing with the sand at his side with his free hand, seeming to marvel at the feeling of it as he let it fall through his fingers over and over.  

As the sun began to set, Ben finally turned to look at you. "I wish I could stay," he admitted with a dismayed frown.  

"I wish you could too," you confessed on a whisper. You felt like your day with Ben was a gift, but you weren't sure if it was for him or you.  

While Ben walked you back to your store, you kept trying to come up with ideas to ensure he could stay. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to talk about books or movies or spend a night together under the stars. You wanted to know everything about him, but you knew that it was selfish to ask.  

If he said he had to leave, then you knew he had to leave.  

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you both came to a stop in front of your store.  

"Here," Ben said as he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a crushed daisy that was beginning to wilt and fall apart. "I picked it up earlier today because I missed them," he told you with a shrug. "But I want you to have it." He held it out to you, wincing when the stem began to splinter.  

"I love it," you assured him as you reached out to take the flower from him.  

You noticed Ben bite his lip, as if gearing himself up to say something, before he finally reached out to take your free hand in both of his. "Y/N, I want to thank you. I wasn't really sure what I wanted out of today, but you made it perfect for me. I'm not going to forget that."

You weren't sure why you felt choked up as you studied him for what you hated to think would be the last time. "I had a good time with you, Ben. Maybe we'll get to do this again someday?"

There was a saddened look on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe," he agreed with a nod of his head.  

You knew both of you were aware that this was really going to be goodbye. There was something so final about this moment that you couldn't help but feel like you were losing someone you had known forever even if it was just for a day.  

Ben abruptly let out a soft, pained groan as he clenched his eyes shut. He brought his hands up and held onto his head for a moment.  

"Ben? What's wrong?" You worried as you reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.  

"Nothing. It's nothing," he dismissed with a miserable little twist to his mouth as he opened his eyes to regard you. "I just need to be going."

"Oh," you sighed. "Right. Your carriage is about to turn into a pumpkin, huh?"  

Ben let out a surprised laugh, his eyes twinkling with a mirth you were going to miss. "Yeah. Something like that," he agreed. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against your cheek. You felt your breath hitch at the feeling of him in your space, the experience bittersweet with the knowledge that it would never happen again. "Thank you for the greatest day of my life, Y/N."

You let out a choked laugh, wishing you could reach out to him when he started to back away from you. "Any time," you told him as you forced yourself to stay rooted to your spot right in front of your store. "Bye, Ben."

"Goodbye, Y/N," he whispered, his hand coming up and his fingers dipping in a wave. You saw him study you for a moment before he seemed to make himself turn and walk away from you.  

All you could do was watch him leave you with the foolish hope that you would see him again one day.

[sasha-r-blog]

A Promising Encounter

Timing: A few months back

Parties: @professorbcampbell and @sasha-r-blog

Location: University campus cafe

Summary: Sasha’s advisor sets up a meeting between her and Professor Campbell to discuss her academic career. Ben sees promise in her. 

Content: Allusions to manipulation 

“I think it would be good for you to meet with one of the faculty mentors. It doesn’t have to be a regular occurrence, but if you try it you might find something of value. Maybe ideas for ways to get involved on campus, or suggestions of ways to make your major feel more worthwhile to you. Or maybe a way to take a more interdisciplinary approach to your academic career. A lot of students find branching out helps them to get a fuller experience at the university. I’ll put in an appointment for you with one of them. I wouldn’t want you to go into your second semester still not feeling settled when there are options that may help.”

Sasha gripped the shoulder strap of her school bag so tight her knuckles were turning white. Why had she agreed to this? She could have just said no to her advisor and wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this today. But now she was standing near the entrance of the on campus cafe, halfway to a panic attack. She could have just said no, but instead she just sat there across from her advisor as she droned on at her, nodding like an idiot at being signed up for this when she really wanted nothing to do with it. It wasn’t like her advisor’s suggestion was dumb, it was just that now Sasha had to walk into public space on campus and meet with a stranger that she couldn’t even remember the name of. Professor Candle or Combbull or something.

She took a shaky breath. She probably looked like a weirdo for lingering at the entrance, foot tapping and sweating under her sweater. It was hard to tell if she was imagining the people leaving giving her weird glances and giggling, but she quickly rushed in after they passed. It wasn’t even that crowded, no rush of students grabbing coffee and bagels between classes at the moment. But there was still a decent amount of seats filled, mostly people chatting with each other or working alone on their laptops. Oh great, right, she didn’t even know what this professor looked like. Sasha awkwardly walked over to the side, avoiding the questioning glance of the barista who was probably expecting her to order something. This was the worst. Either this guy was waiting for her here and she was just looking around like an idiot, or he hadn’t even arrived yet and Sasha was still looking around like an idiot. Maybe she’d be lucky today and the professor messed up his schedule and couldn’t even make it. She’d give it 10 minutes. That was fair right? Then after that she was legally allowed to bail.

Looking at his watch, Ben shut off his computer and pulled on his wool overcoat. The beginnings of snow had started to drift down on the campus, which was a bit of a nuisance. Ice and freezing temperatures complicated his affairs. But, Yule was nearly upon them and he was looking forward to gathering with the rest of his family to celebrate the occasion with hot chocolate and human sacrifices. Maybe his sister in law would break out the mulled wine-- that would be a treat. Ben took his time as he walked towards the campus coffee shop. He was in no hurry to meet this new student. He’d looked up her records when one of the advisors had asked if he had any availability in his schedule to meet with a “brilliant but flounder” student. Of course, how could he say no? Smiling at one of his former TA’s as he walked across the campus, Ben sighed. Computer science majors, logical to a fault typically. He doubted he would have much luck with this one, but who knew.

Walking into the coffee shop, he glanced around and saw a fidgeting young girl in the corner. Sasha. That must be her. With a warm smile on his face, Ben offered a polite wave. “Sasha Rodriguez, correct?” He asked, “Apologies for the delay, a lecture ran long. I’m Professor Campbell, but please, call me Ben.”

Unfortunately, within three minutes of Sasha’s countdown to leave, a man walked into the coffee shop and greeted her. Great. Well, yeah, actually great in the sense that she didn’t have to awkwardly stand here anymore unsure who she was supposed to meet. Sarcastic “great” at the fact that she wasn’t getting out of this social interaction any time soon.

“Hi, yes, that’s me,” Sasha said, giving a small wave toward the professor before realizing that was probably unnecessary and dumb. “My advisor said we were supposed to meet for a mentoring...thing. I guess we should sit down somewhere?”

Luckily the area Sasha had tucked herself into while waiting had a free table only a few feet away. Sasha took her backpack off and sat down, half wanting to keep it on her lap, it’s weight somehow comforting. But she decided against it. This would just be talking, which didn’t exactly make her feel any better, but reminding herself that talking to someone new wouldn’t kill her was important. Most shy kids she knew growing up were at least teacher’s pets to balance out the lack of friends, but she had never even managed that. Peers, teachers, strangers, all fair game for her nerves. But she could handle talking to him for a bit. At least her anxiety was easing a little now that she didn’t have to wonder about the unknown of when and who she was meeting. With a nod, Ben gestured for her to grab a table. “That sounds like a wise idea. You hold tight, I’ll get us some coffee.” He said and left to go to the barista. With his trademark smile, Ben ordered an americano and a drip coffee and collected the drinks at the end of the bar. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I thought it’d be safest to go with a black coffee.” He said, setting the mug in front of the girl. “So. Sasha. It’s good to meet you-- please, don’t think of this as any kind of interview or lecture or anything like that. I’m here to act as a sort of liaison between you and the faculty here. And, to offer you a warm White Crest welcome. Go Moose!” Ben said with a very “ra-ra” gesture of his hand. It was an act, crafted over the years to inspire confidence and ease the nerves of some of the more anxiety ridden students. “How are you finding the university so far?”

Sasha nodded, watching as Professor Campbell, or Ben she guessed, ordered the drinks. Right, probably best to actually drink coffee at the coffee shop. It was a campus location, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t get annoyed looks if they spent time here without ordering something.

As Ben handed her the drink Sasha mumbled out a quick thanks, taking a sip before remembering to respond with more. “Um, yeah, black coffee’s fine. That’s what I usually have.” Adding milk would have just made her stomach mad at her, and adding sugar didn’t really seem to do anything to the taste. She wasn’t really sure why people added it in the first place. Taking another sip, she realized how sorely she needed the coffee. Maybe that’s part of why she was so on edge. Sasha hadn’t been a big coffee drinker before coming to college, but it was quickly becoming a staple with all her late night patrols as The Claw. She read once that coffee could actually make people more anxious or something, but right now it was giving her stressed and tired brain a much needed jolt.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling slightly at the little “ra ra” hand gesture. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but she was glad that Ben didn’t seem like some of the other professors she had met this semester; harsh gazes and even harsher deadline, rambling so fast Sasha couldn’t keep up, or dully reading off their lesson plans and then slipping away after the class as if they had never even existed.

“It's going alright so far, I think. I’m not doing the best in some of my classes but, um, I don’t know, I guess otherwise things are fine.” That was the thing, what did Sasha do besides classes? She had barely gotten to know anyone on campus, peer or otherwise. She had managed to avoid almost every campus event out of tiredness or busyness or anxiety. It wasn’t like she was in any clubs either. Sasha tapped her fingers across the side mug. She really must look like a loser for that, but then again, that wasn’t exactly a surprising turn of events. She had The Claw, that’s what she did, so why did she need to try to do stuff on campus besides not flunk out?

“I don’t really do much here.”

“Excellent. And, you’re quite welcome.” He said with an encouraging nod. Regarding the girl over the rim of his coffee mug, Ben took careful stock of her body language, her general demeanor. She seemed nervous, but that was normal amongst the new undergraduate students, even the ones that claimed to be adjusting well. Ben took a sip from his cup as she quietly explained her situation. Struggling in class, an advisor mandated meeting with one of the mentor teachers to ease her into the life of collegiate life? How interesting. Interesting indeed. “I think there’s always a certain amount of an adjustment period to be expected with grades,” Ben said, because that’s what the understanding professor would say. That’s what someone who didn’t expect greatness from his students would say. “So I wouldn’t let that bother you very much, as long as you’re enjoying the classes you’re  in. College is a transitionary period, there are always going to be bumps in the road whenever these things happen.”

She tapped her fingers on the mug-- an irritating habit that Ben ignored. Hopefully someone would be able to drill that out of her, it wasn’t very polite. “What about extracurriculars? Are you living on campus? Have you gotten to know some of your classmates? There are all sorts of clubs offered by the student body, I know more than a few students who have found their niche in one club or another.”

“Yeah, classes are good. I like them.” It wasn’t a complete lie, Sasha didn’t hate her classes. But whatever she thought she was good at when it came to math and coding and tech didn’t apply much here. And when it did it was the basic stuff in classes that made her eyes glaze over and excuse herself to the “bathroom” just to walk up and down the hallway to wake herself up.

She nodded along to what Ben said about it being a transitionary period, but as he continued on with more questions she froze up a bit. “Um...not really. I mean I don’t really do much on campus. I’ve seen flyers around and I know they have activity fairs and stuff like that, but I’ve never gone.” Sasha nervously picked at a hangnail. Boy, the flap of skin sure was way more interesting than looking back at this professor who was probably exasperated at her lack of involvement. “I live on campus, so I know I don’t really have an excuse, but like I said, I don’t really do anything here. I just sort of do my own thing. Alone.”

“What classes are your favorite?” Ben asked conversationally, leaning back in his chair, one leg folding over the other as he watched the girl with an appraising eye. “I’m sure you must enjoy our coding classes-- I’ll admit, I’m not very familiar with the faculty in that department, but I’ve heard good things from some of the other students I mentor. They’re on the engineering track, though, I’m not sure if you’d have much overlap with them.” He said.

Noticing the sudden “deer in the headlights” expression on her face, Ben noted to ease up on the questions. Some students thrived off them, Sasha clearly wasn’t one of those. Fair enough, he could work with that. “That’s perfectly alright-- college can be incredibly overwhelming when you first arrive.” He said, tone gentle. He watched her pick at her nails with increasing distaste. Disgusting. But, he didn’t let the annoyance show on his face. Instead, he cast a sympathetic smile in her direction. “And there’s nothing wrong with being alone. That said, college is a time for meeting people, making friends. I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you this, so I’m apologizing in advance for sounding like a cliche. But, some of the best friends I’ve had I met in college. You’ll never know who you’ll meet unless you put yourself out there.” He said with an encouraging nod.

Sasha hadn’t expected the professor to seem so casual about her lack of involvement, though she supposed that wasn’t that surprising. In her anxiety she thought maybe this meeting was some last ditch faculty intervention thing where Ben would shake his head and tsk tsk at her and explain how Sasha was going to ruin her college experience by being so much of a loner.

Her shoulders eased slightly, more tension leaving as she reminded herself that this was just a meeting with some random professor and even if he gave her a list of clubs it wasn’t like he could force her to go. She had been in college long enough now that she knew, for better or for worse, if she didn’t want to do something like go to class or take a professor’s advice she didn’t have to. But it was nice that Ben didn’t seem like the type so far to be a jerk about it.

“I mean, I like this one class, Scientific Simulation and Modeling. It is for one of my Gen Eds but it fits into my whole major and the professor makes it pretty fun. We were mostly doing simulations for regional ecology and wildlife population stuff, and that was kinda cool. I’ve really only taken math and computer classes this semester. I know I need to do all the other Gen Eds but besides English 101 I haven’t really thought about what to do for that. I haven’t looked into engineering classes, but I’m sure some of them might overlap with what I need.”

Still, even if Ben was being nice, Sasha couldn’t help but wonder how much he really cared about her major or anything else she was saying . He apparently wasn’t part of the department most of her classes were in, and Sasha assumed most professors didn’t spend time outside of their own academic circle. But Ben seemed to watch intently in a way that made Sasha feel like maybe he was actually interested in listening, even if she decided to ramble on about the model the class worked on for trout populations in the local rivers or how she was kinda proud she got an A on her last Trig test when she had been hovering around a C all semester. She wasn’t going to though, even she didn’t care that much about her classes to talk about specifics. And she knew painfully well if she did talk too long about her interest most people just thought she was weird.

“I’ve never really been away from home or alone so I guess it is pretty weird to get used to. Alone without my parents I mean. But I mostly hung out by myself back home too so that isn’t really much of a change. I uh, I mean, I hear that a lot, the whole thing about making close friends in college. I’m sure it is true for most people but...”

God, she must sound like such a sad sack. After she took another sip of coffee she tried her best to change the subject.

“But I haven’t really had luck. Anyway, uh, what department do you teach in then?”

Ben barely paid attention as she rattled on and on about whatever silly little class had captured her interest. It seemed like some kind of scientific class, one he was entirely unfamiliar with. Which hardly made her the ideal candidate for his little club-- hardly any of his carefully cultivated minds were on the science track. But, she could be useful yet. Hrv’Shtooooor didn’t care how long it took him to find fresh blood, only that he did. Smiling and nodding at the appropriate intervals, Ben took a sip from his coffee cup. “Have you talked to the professor at all about other courses they teach? I know more than a few of my own students helped settle on their degree tracks because of influential teachers. Not--” He added with a deliberately rueful smile, “only myself, of course. But, that could be a good starting point as far as finding common interests with others or exploring new paths.”

“People take things at their own pace.” Ben said with an assured nod. So she was a loner. Interesting, very interesting. That boded well. The desperate and the lonely made for easy targets, though the science minded had always been a harder nut for him to crack. He relished a challenge, though. At her question, he cast her a polite smile as she settled back in his chair, one leg folded over the other. “I’m a Professor of the Classics, so I’m with the School of Arts and Sciences. Not classic literature, mind you,” He said lightly, though the misconception continually irked him. As if he cared about Bronte, Austen, Fitzgerald, or any of the rest of their ilk. “I teach Greek and Roman antiquity. Politics, philosophy, history, literature, and so on. It’s a dull field, but I find it quite enjoyable.”

“I probably should, I barely know what my plan for next semester is. But I guess if a professor teaches one good class hopefully their other ones are good too.” Again, she should probably put more thought into this, considering how much she was paying for school. But maybe Ben was right. Going at her own pace, figuring it out bit by bit, couldn’t be that much of a disaster, right? She hadn’t flunked out her first semester, she couldn’t be that bad.

“So would the classics include myths and things like that?” Politics and philosophy sounded like an easy way for Sasha to fall asleep instantly in class. But myths were kinda cool. She never really looked a whole lot into it, but a lot of those greek heroes felt like old timey superheroes. She sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that to the professor though. There had to be a limit to how kind he could be, and she doubted comparing years of studies to comic books was going to make him happy.

“I don’t really know if I really get a lot of that stuff, but it sounds cool. It covers a lot of stuff it sounds like.” She was surprised he was calling his own field dull, it made her reflexively want to disagree, even if half of what he listed did sound boring to her. Maybe it was just the idea that someone could spend years doing something and people would still think it wasn’t worth much. It made her vaguely sad. She knew first hand that it sucked to care about something a lot when plenty of others didn’t.

“That’s the spirit.” Ben said with an approving smile and gestured grandly with his cup. “A positive mindset is a valuable thing. College is all about experiences. And everyone has their own way of going about things. But, it never hurts to venture out a bit, dip your toes in the water, that sort of thing. This school is a small one, all things considered, but I’m sure you’ll find professors-- and peers-- who suit you best.” He said with a kind expression on his face. And he would do his best to steer her towards his own little niche. If she got away, so be it. But, he was a patient man and so was his Lord.

Myths. Of course, that was all anyone could ever talk about. But, he supposed it was easy to be enamored with the stories of ancient times when you didn’t know that some of the so-called myths were alive and well. Nodding, Ben bridged his fingers together, “Yes, we cover the various mythos surrounding both Greek and Roman society, though I typically focus on how they were indicative of the times in which they were written and the religious importance they held.” Leaning forward, he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “But, between you and me? My segment on Hercules is one of my favorite sections. Next to Gilgamesh, he’s one of the greatest heroes in history.” Ben said with a nod.

“Ah, you’re very kind. But, I’ve spent too many hours at conferences led by geriatric old fogeys to delude myself into thinking that what I teach is “cool”.” Ben said, making air quotes with a modest shrug. “That said, it’s my field of choice and I’m always very pleased to see the new generation of historians who are interested in preserving antiquity the way I do.” He said before glancing casually at his watch, a throw away gesture to see how observant she was. Was she the type to notice the subtlety of others actions? Or would she gloss over it?

It would be nice if what Ben said was true, if Sasha could connect with people at the college and feel a bit more at home. Maybe she was just being pessimistic. It wasn’t like she never took risks. Climbing onto icy rooftops and chasing down bad guys wasn’t what most people would call playing it safe. So why was it so hard to just talk to people in comparison?

“I think heroes and stuff like that reflect a lot of things.” Sasha winced slightly at her own words. She wished she could say it in a way that sounded smarter, but she agreed with him. The people others looked up to and wrote about, even if they weren’t real...well, they usually said something about the person who was writing about them, about what they wished for, who they wanted to be. “Are you teaching any classes about that stuff soon? I...honestly I’ve not really thought about my schedule much but maybe I could take one.” At the very least it might fill a history gen-ed or something. There wasn’t harm in trying.

Sasha smiled at Ben talking about not being cool. Sasha wasn’t sure any professor could be “cool” but at least he was complaining about the old-timey professors rather than being one himself. As he spoke Sasha caught him glancing at his watch. Crap, how long had they been sitting here talking? Sasha glanced over at the clock on the nearby wall, worried that looking at her phone would seem rude. She was surprised by how much time had passed. If it felt like just a few minutes ago she was halfway to bailing out of this meeting in the first place out of nerves. “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to talk so long.”

Ben regarded the girl with an appraising nod. Heroes, hm? Perhaps she was just one of the innumerable students who were obsessed with the Marvel movies that had trickled out of Hollywood over the past decade. But, it was her body language that interested her more. She seemed hesitant, self-critical, anxious. As though her own words couldn’t stand on their own. Interesting. Very, very interesting. With another winning smile, Ben let out a chuckle, “As luck would have it, I am.” It was one of his most popular courses with the undergraduates, how could he not offer it? The course had pulled in more than a few of his most recent… disciples. “I have a course on Greek and Roman literature that focuses quite extensively on the heroes-- and villains-- of myth.” He said earnestly. “It’s open to most degree tracts, but don’t quote me on that. I’m not as familiar with course requirements as I should be.”

Ah, she noticed. Observant, anxious, eager to please, and apologetic. Very good, very good indeed. With a warm smile, Ben stood up and held out a hand for a firm handshake. “No, no, believe me, the pleasure was all mine. I enjoy being able to talk to promising young students like yourself. And do mean that,” He said as he pulled his jacket back on, preparing to walk back out into the wintery street. “You have a lot of potential, Sasha. Don’t let minor setbacks hold you back from that.” With that, Ben strode out of the coffee shop a satisfied expression on his face as he left. Sasha Rodriguez. What a promising young woman indeed.

[soyforramen]

BHDC Day 2

Day 1 Here

Graduation

It didn’t really matter, he reminded himself.  It was just college graduation.  And it wasn’t as if he’d be able to use the degree, being a vampire and, oh, right, majoring in Victorian Lit.  Not much of a market for vampires who fit the Byronic tropes, after all.

Jughead waited in the arena lobby, hoping to see a hint of flaming red hair or over worn flannel.  Happy families swarmed around him, their emotions palpable and overwhelming.  Any other time he’d have been bowled over by the sheer force of emotions surrounding him, the smell of life thick on his tongue.  Instead he was focused more on his own dreary thoughts.  

He’d finally graduated after six long years of late nights, early mornings, and a lot of odd jobs to pull together the money for the ridiculously priced classes.  And he was alone again without anyone there to cheer him on.  It was something he’d grown accustomed to - first his parents, then his sister, then Toni.  But it still stung when the two people who’d always been there for him, no matter the circumstances, were missing.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he could have done this himself.  Not without -

His junky old phone chimed and he answered, turning into an alcove to block some of the noise.

“Jug.”

Fred’s familiar voice was soothing, enough to quell Jughead’s morose thoughts.  That was dashed quickly when Fred continued, his voice tight with worry.

“You haven’t seen Archie, have you?”

Worry grew, its small, biting teeth cutting through Jughead’s stomach.

“No, I thought he was with you guys.  He hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

“Mine either.”  

Jughead could imagine Fred pacing the floor and rubbing at his forehead.  A single father, he’d never been comfortable without hearing from Archie.  And when Jughead unofficially joined the fold, Fred had worried just as much, if not more, about him.

“He’s done this before,” Fred continued.  “But never for this long.”

“He texted me a few nights ago.  He’d mentioned a club, but -“

“Did he mention the name?”

Jughead shook his head, guilt over not getting more information.  “No, just that he’d met someone.”

“Thanks, Jug.  And I’m sorry we missed it.”

“I would have missed it too if I’d known -“

“No, I didn’t want you missing your big day.  I’m sure I’m just being a worry wart and Archie’s off somewhere chasing some girl …” Fred trailed off.

The silence between them stretched on as families posed for pictures and made plans for lunch.  In any other reality that could have been him.  His parents, smiling and proud, JB teasing him.  But in this one he only had himself, and the Andrews to rely on.

“What can I do?”

“Not much right now.  Archie will call,” Fred said with a certainty that felt forced.  “Rain check on the celebration?”

Jughead agreed, and they hung up, each promising to let the other know when - if - they heard from him.  He wandered around after that, lost in his thoughts.  Archie was a rover, sure.  But he’d never leave like that, not without letting Fred or Jughead know where he was going.  Werewolves were pack animals and they were always in constant communication with the other.  If one went silent, something had to be wrong.

It occurred to him, as he wandered through the arena, that there was one person who could track Archie down.  Someone who owed him, majorly.  The same person he’d sworn never to talk to for the rest of his life.

With nothing else to go one, and trusting that Fred had tracked down every lead, it was a sacrifice Jughead had to make.

His phone rang through to voicemail and he cringed at the sugary sweet message.  Everything about it made him want to hang up.  It wasn’t as if he couldn’t do this alone; if anyone could find Archie, it was Jughead.  They’d grown up together and knew each other better than their own self.

It was a self-soothing lie and he knew it.

The message cut off and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Veronica.  It’s Jughead.  I’m calling in that favor.  Meet me at the diner off East Riverdale, at sun down.”

Now all he had left to do was wait.

Two Truths and a Lie

“Well?”  

The fae grinned, smug in its little game.  

Betty scowled at it and shifted against her bonds.  There was little worse than fae - self-assured tricksters, liars, and thieves - and yet she’d had to deal with far too many of them to get to this point.  If this is what it took to find Polly, she’d damn well better get more at Christmas than a hand-made scarf and a store bought card.

“Just tell me where my sister is, you weirdo.”

Reggie chuckled and leaned forward in his seat.  He curled a lock of her ponytail around his finger, and Betty almost fell over trying to jerk away from him.

“Oh come on, Betts.  I thought you enjoyed our tete-a-tetes.”  

“I don’t have time for this Reggie.  Polly is missing.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Did you check with her new beau?”

Betty narrowed her eyes.  “Polly hasn’t dated anyone since -“

He hummed.  “I thought you two told each other everything.”  

Reggie examined his fingernails as the realization hit her.  The late nights, sneaking out, hiding her phone, clandestine calls.  It all made sense now why Polly had gone distant the month before her disappearance.

“That bitch,” she muttered, pained by her sister’s betrayal.  Betty had done all this, asked favors from all her contacts, joined up with a vampire for Gaia’s sake, and all because Polly decided to go on a mini-honeymoon with some man!

They told each other everything, and Polly didn’t even hint that she was seeing someone.  Secrets, lies, hopes, fears; nothing was unknown between them.  Polly even knew about her unintelligible crush on Mary Shelley!  

With one single, huge, looming, omission, Polly had broken ties with her, casting her on the same level as their mother.  They were sisters, in blood and magic.  The whole coven was in uproar over her disappearance and yet -

Reggie snapped to bring her attention back to him.  He preened when he saw her turn towards him.

“You can stew later, Betty.  I’m right in front of you, and I’d hate for you to lose this visual opportunity.”

She rolled her eyes but forced her indignation to the back of her mind.  Reggie might be a swell enough guy, for a faery, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t the most narcissistic man she’d ever met.

“Fine.  What else do you know about my sister.”  She cut him off before he could be coy about fae rules.  “And what do you want in return?”

He held up two fingers.  “Two truths,” he paused to hold up one more finger on his other hand, “and a lie.  I get to determine which is the lie.  If I’m right, you stay here and entertain me for a while.  If I’m wrong, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Betty huffed, ready for this to be over with.  She’d spent far too long here trying to assuage Reggie’s vanity and Jughead had probably gotten bored and wandered off by now.  

“Fine.”

“What’s your relationship with the odd-ball outside?”

“Business.”

Reggie raised an eyebrow and Betty fought back a groan.  Of course that wouldn’t be enough.  Fae were the biggest gossips in the underground that the appearance of anyone outside of their regular patterns drew the curiosity of all.

“His best friend went missing at the same time and same place my sister did, The Woods two weeks ago, and we’re trying to find them.”

Reggie seemed to accept that answer, mulling it over in his mind.  “Truth.  Question number two.  How far have you two gone?”

Flashes of crimson light, teeth grazing her neck, early morning sunlight in an unfamiliar bed…

“We can’t stand each other to be in the same room.  He’s almost bit me twice -“

“Kinky.”

“- and I tried to catch him on fire.”

Well, she didn’t try to catch him on fire.  Not entirely.  She’d warned Jughead three times not to cross the lines.  

Reggie mulled her answer over like a fine wine.  Betty hadn’t quite followed the rules of the game; her answer wasn’t quite a lie, but it also wasn’t entirely the truth.  

“I’ll decide that one in a minute.  Question three: When was the last time you thought of me naked?”

Betty’s cheeks flushed and she cursed herself for not seeing this coming.  Her ex always had been fond of riling her up, but she didn’t think Reggie would take the opportunity to do so now.  

“Before we came to see you,”  she blurted out, knowing it was a lie.  

She hadn’t thought about Reggie in any way other than an information source, not since her excursion into the Vixen’s Den.  Whatever spell they’d put on her there, she hadn’t thought about Reggie until this morning.  Even then he was just a means to an end.  Any lurid thoughts she might have had ran towards the darker, colder side of the world.

Still, Reggie seemed pleased with her answer.  Ego stroked, he couldn’t help but smirk.  “That’s the truth,” he said confidently.

The bindings around her fell away, and his face turned into the true mask of the fae.  Elongated and wrinkled, it looked more like an old wooden mask than a creature claiming humanity.  At the fear in her eyes he took a deep breath, his face returning to its normal handsome countenance.

“All right.  A deal’s a deal.  I’ll tell you what I know about your sister,” Reggie promised.  

Betty breathed a sigh of relief.  As annoying, frustrating, and untruthful as the fae were, at least he was bearable.

Chatroom/Discord Server

“They responded.”

Betty surged forward, the coffee in her hand barely surviving the movement.  She crowded next to him on the couch their knees knocking together.  Jughead instinctively moved away and rebalanced the distance between them.  There were rules about these things. Rules that polite society dictated, and vampires were sticklers for polite society.  Something to do with longevity, he supposed.  

This witch seemed to throw all those rules out the window.  Perhaps the covens had different rules, but regardless.  There were rules.

She ignored, or perhaps didn’t even recognize, his distaste, her eyes fixed on the screen.  

“Tell them I’m Polly’s sister,” she ordered in response to the on screen question.

Jughead rolled his eyes but did as told.  Bossy as she was, her ideas had worked so far.  Well, all except the one with the ice cream and motor oil.  He’d never get that stain out of his hat.  

A thinking bubble came up on screen, then disappeared, as the person on the other end wrote and deleted their message.  For a long time the screen was blank and he let out a heavy sigh.  Betty stared at the screen and worried at her bottom lip.  

She smelled like coffee now, the lavender and rosemary long gone.  Cheap, burnt coffee from an overpriced cafe.  Nothing like what he’d drunk when he was alive.  It had been one of his vices, the one thing he was willing to pay far too much of his precious earnings for.   He wondered what it would taste like now, whether it would be as bitter as it smelled, or whether the taste of her lips -

The computer dinged and he shook himself out of it.  These strange feelings bothered him; the sooner they figured this out the quicker he could go back to his mostly solitary life and away from this witch trying to draw him under her spell.

She glanced at him, waiting for his reaction.  “Well?”

He shrugged and leaned back against the couch trying to discreetly read the screen.  

“Anyplace we suggest they’ll likely turn down unless it’s clandestine.  If this is who really is behind the disappearances they’re not going to want to take the chance of getting caught.”

Betty’s face fell and she pulled at the sleeves of her sweater.  It stung to see her like that, and he reminded himself he was here for Archie, not some strange puppy crush.  

Wait.

“The South Side park, just off of West 9.”

She glanced up at him, a moue on her face that made him want -

“Isn’t that were territory?”

He nodded.  

“And you’re …?”

He nodded again.  “It’s … complicated.”  She gave him a look, one he was quickly learning she was filing information away for later, but thankfully didn’t ask anything else.

“Noon, tomorrow at the abandoned parking structure,” she said.

Jughead’s fingers flew over the keyboard and, with a final glance at Betty, the message was sent.  This time, the answer came right away.

They both breathed a sigh of relief at the response.  For the first time in a month, the tension eased from Jughead’s body and he allowed himself a moment of relaxation.  

“So, you and werewolves?”

He rolled his eyes and stood.  “Noon, tomorrow,” he reminded her before walking out of the cafe.

[the-general-hux]

@finishwhxtyoustartxd

Armitage Hux rested his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window. His parents had stopped talking hours ago, his mother was asleep in the front seat and his father was driving with white-knuckled fingers crimped around the steering wheel. Hux shared the backseat with luggage that wouldn’t fit in the trunk of their rental sedan. His knees pressed against the back of the driver’s seat and he longed for chance to stretch out his legs. His eyes blinked open and shut as he looked out the window at the endless procession of trees.

Traffic slowed down and his father spat out a string of curses at the other drivers’ abilities to keep stopping distance on the rain slick road. The air smelled damp, even through the filter of the air conditioning. A small town appeared and a sign declared it Bayport. Perhaps the settlers had never heard of redundancy, Hux thought. A smiling whale spouted a flourish of water on the sign. Hux gritted his teeth and put in his headphones.

Tourists crossed the highway, oblivious to oncoming traffic and the increasing frequency of his father’s cursing. A bead shop. Souvenirs. Weed shop. Rinse and repeat. Hux caught a glimpse of some amazing biceps in front of a coffee shop and he wrenched his neck to see if the potential face matched the muscles, but his father turned a corner and Hux lost his sight line. He huffed out a sigh. Probably just a tourist, maybe one of those bikers that cruised up and down the Oregon coast. Doing what? Whale-watching?

They pulled into a driveway that was marked with a jaunty lighthouse, Driftwood Cove. They named the rental house. Of course they did. His father stopped the car, turned off the ignition and announced. “This is our home for the next month. Let’s try to not kill each other.”

“No promises.” Hux said and his mother shot him a warning look. “Fine. You work on your book, you work on your paintings and I’ll work on growing a thick coat of mildew.”

“Now darling, it’s not that bad. The ocean air is marvelous for my health and I only have so much time with you before you go off to college and leave me behind.”

Forty two days, six hours and twelve minutes, Hux thought as he got out of the car. He sighed again and nodded because that was what you did when your sick mother guilt tripped you. This wasn’t his idea of a beach holiday. The sky was painted in shades of blue and gray, the whole landscape looked angry and battered into submission by the relentless coastal wind. Then he turned to the ocean. There was a haze covering the entire Pacific Ocean, as far as he could squint. “Twelve hours in the car and I can’t even see the fucking water.”

Hux claimed the room at the very top of the rental, it had a window overlooking the ocean and a stupid sign. “The Crow’s Nest.” He dragged his luggage up the stairs. The whole room smelled musty and forgotten. He sat down on the edge of the queen bed and flopped backwards, staring at the rafters. There was no need for a bed this big in such a small space— Hux scrunched his face up in disgust. Do not think about how many people have had sex in your bed, just don’t. That way lies madness, Hux thought. I am not going to look under the mattress pad.

“Boy!” His father hollered up the stairs, “Come help your mother with her junk!” Hux blew out the breath he was holding and descended the stairs.

It started to rain.

It continued to rain for three days. Drops splattered on the window panes and wind shrieked through the eaves. Hux made a bet with himself about how soon the roof would fly off. It was even money. He curled up on the bed, surrounded by fifteen decorative pillows that some poor soul had embroidered with seagulls and a two year old copy of People magazine. He’d read it cover to cover three times. Cellular service was complete shit and WiFi was apparently an alien concept in rustic vacation rentals. His father’s laptop had not survived the road trip and Hux’s had been commandeered, so no jerking off to his carefully curated archived amateur Alpha porn. The television downstairs had a dial to change the channels. All three channels.

“I’m going to start talking to myself. I am. I’m going to start talking to myself and go find a great white whale to have a battle to the death with. Honestly, it’s inevitable.” He could go talk to his parents. See what they were doing— Hux shook his head. Mother was sleeping, exhausted from her medication and Father was writing. He could write for days at a time, eating what was brought to him and pissing in a milk jug by his desk. He had a bestselling series, it was Regency romance of all things and the royalties were sending Hux to a very good school.

“Yet another thing for me to grateful for.” Hux told a decorative seahorse on the wall. “I have to get out of here. I have to.” He grabbed his coat and one of the guest umbrellas from the hallway. “I’m going out!” He called to his father who grunted in response and waved him off.

Hux made his way down the driveway towards the town center. He paused in front of the map of the town, drawn in a cartoon fashion that made the library and the police station look like equally jaunty places to visit. His sneakers squelched with wetness as he made his way to the coffee shop. It seemed like ages ago that he’d caught a glimpse of those glorious biceps. Everyone was wearing shapeless polar fleece and practical galoshes that he coveted with an practical intensity he’d never truly felt before.

He ordered a hot milky tea, something to chase the cold away from his bones and wrapped his fingers around it. “It's June,” he reminded himself and the counter girl smiled at him and then at his Omega Pride lapel pin. “It really is June, isn’t it?”

“It usually clears up by now. It’s not so bad. Just remember to take your vitamin D pills until the sun comes out again.” She pulled another shot of espresso after that bit of unsolicited advice. Hux pushed his sopping wet shock of red hair out of his face. He was not a natural sun worshipper, but the next time he saw the sun even he might offer up a few prayers of gratitude.

Hux wandered over to the small shelf of used books that lined the back wall. A hand lettered sign read, “Lending Library”.  Out of habit, he looked for his father’s name on the spines of the books. Only one volume this time. The fourth. Savage Unbroken Hearts. Hux couldn’t read his father’s writing, it was far too intimate an act. It was worse than the time his father had walked in on Hux taking a selfie, wearing glitter and a rainbow thong. Hux cringed at the memory and selected a paperback space opera that boasted about galactic conquest. He sat down at a table and thumbed through the yellowed pulpy pages. The previous owner had scrawled his name in childish block letters on the interior cover. Ben.

The counter girl gave him a plastic bag for the book and Hux stepped out into the rain. It wasn’t going to defeat him. “You hear me?” Hux muttered to the weather as he made his way down the boardwalk. He rolled his eyes at the tiny salon and a candy store that was only open on the weekend. He paused in front of a photograph studio that specialized in pirate portraits. Skywalker Studios. Tourists grinned in tawdry costumes and posed in front of pirate flags. Rain dripped from the tip of Hux’s nose and he snorted in disdain. There was a 90% chance that his mother would drag them all in here for a souvenir portrait.

The beach access stairwell was just beyond the photography studio and Hux gripped the guardrail as he wrestled with both the slippery seagull shit smeared steps and the wind that threatened to steal his umbrella. The ocean was surging, the tide rolling in. Hux stared out at the dark, seething waters and felt begrudging respect for the power and intensity of the storm. Also for the warning signs posted all over the beach. Rolling logs that could kill you. Rip tides. Sneaker waves. Tsunamis. This was not the ocean that was in the brochures. Icy spray hit him in the face and he blinked saltwater from his lashes.

There was a man strolling along the pebbled beach. Long dark hair whipped around his head. What kind of Alpha bullshit was this? It was a stereotype of course, but the only person who would have the sheer ballsy stupid confidence to be walking on that beach would be an Alpha. A shameful thrill trilled up the back of Hux’s neck and he tasted the salt on his own lips.

The man reached the stairwell and as he ascended, Hux hid behind his Driftwood Cove umbrella. The man paid him no mind as he passed, Hux peeked out from beneath the umbrella shade. He swallowed hard as he caught the hint of a defined, youthful jawline, speckled with interesting moles that reminded Hux of constellations. The man unlocked the door to Skywalker Studios, stepped inside and flipped on the OPEN neon sign.

Oh god dammit. He wasn’t going to follow that weirdo guy, no matter how broad his shoulders were, no matter how bored Hux was, no matter— he stood on the steps of the photography studio and pushed open the door.

A bell jingled announcing Hux’s presence as he folded up his umbrella in the entry way. “Just a moment!” A deep voice called out from behind a curtain. “Be right out!’

Hux looked at the puddle of rain water accumulating around his feet and he flushed with embarrassment. He glanced to the side at a mirror for the tourists to check their costumes. His hair was plastered to his head, water dripped from his ears. No, no, no this was a mistake—

The broad-shouldered stranger walked out in a muscle baring tank top, drying his hair with a towel. The lack of fabric made one thing painfully clear to Hux’s libido. This was the owner of the Glorious Biceps. He wrapped the towel around his hair in a makeshift turban and looked at Hux. For a long moment, the Alpha’s plush pink mouth fell open as he took in the bedraggled, soaked ginger making a mess of his shop floor. If the Earth could open up and swallow me whole right now, that would be just dandy, Hux thought. He turned to leave.

[lost-eternity]

Matchup Requests: CLOSED

Match up request for: @ imightsecretlybeadragon

Okie dokie. I match you with...

I love your tag name, hun

I had to ship you with Sherlock himself 

I was originally considering Mycroft but he honestly can't handle spontaneity 

That's more Sherlock's thing

Although the number of hobbies you have tried your hand at, only to drop most of them, tells me that you grow bored easily and hence need things to occupy your time

So does Sherlock. Except his methods of quelling boredom are not nearly as tame as candle making. 

He'll keep you on your toes

I also considered Mary as a potential match but finding information on her online is incredibly scarce, for some reason. RIP

I believe that your ambition, drive, and willingly to throw reason to the wind and embark on thoughtless adventures is the perfect reason why you would mesh so well with Sherlock Holmes. You would totally be willing to jump out of windows or attempt crazy experiments with him instead of judgmentally staring as most would

As much as Sherlock enjoys John's company, he cannot handle people asking him questions all of the time

Either they need to be on the same level as him- or shut up and do as he says until he reveals his thought process in some theatrical way

While you may not be able to under exactly where that man's mind is at, you are definitely smart enough to understand the general gist and decide for yourself whether or not you want to follow through 

Because sometimes Sherlock really needs someone to look him in the eye and say "no". Instead of passively being yanked around like a dog on a leash.

Both of you have a habit of becoming so engrossed in your work that you forfeit biological functions like sleep. Sherlock really appreciates your understanding in regards to this because he knows that you will not disturb him. 

But when he is going on three days without sleeping or eating, your more nurturing side will step in, force him to rest and give that man some damn sustenance.

Which is why I feel like you would work very well with him. You know when to back off and give him the space he needs, but you aren't complaining like him because you also know when the is challenging the limits of what his human body can handle and will step in to make sure he actually takes care of himself

Like, dude. Take a freaking shower, you both look and smell like a writhing sack of horseshit 

Sherlock would probably find your tendency to be loud quite intrusive. He claims that "even your thoughts are loud. I can feel you thinking. Stop that." And promptly kick you out of the room

Try not to be too offended by him

He is like a toddler. He doesn't know any better

But feel free to give him a scalding tongue lashing afterwards

Sherlock would never admit it, but he does genuinely care for you. And it can sometimes be hard to tell. He constantly berates and criticizes you. But only because he is worrying over your well being and gets super mad if you do sometimes that puts your life in danger. Sherlock can't even bear the thought of losing you, and like everything else he doesn't like, he chooses to ignore or "delete" it. So when that fear becomes a reality,  he flips out, masquerading his concern as anger. Because he does not want to appear weak

His criticism comes from a well meaning place. He genuinely wants you to improve and do the best you can in life to become successful, he is just piss poor and phrasing. Instead his critiques come off as purely negative. You may have to remind him of this and he would be quick albeit awkward to correct. 

If you show him a painting:

"No, the lines are all wrong. The focal point should be here, but because you used 45° angles, the focal point ends up down here."

Cue an unamused look from you

"What? Oh... uh. Y-your use of colour palate is... adequate...."

He's trying

~

Knowing Sherlock, you did not really ever "meet"

At least not how most people would

The first time you met, Sherlock had you pinned beneath him on the ground, demanding that you take off your clothes.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Let's start from the beginning 

You were near Hyde park, cloaked in a heavy woolen coat to combat the biting cold of the winter-scape around you

With your hands shoved deep in your pockets in an attempt to warm them, you continued at a brisk pace, wanting to get back to your flat before the scheduled snowfall 

That was when a dude on a motorcycle nearly careened into you. You jumped back and glared over your shoulder, fully prepared to tell him off. Instead, what you saw rendered you speechless

The guy who almost hit you was wearing a... bunny head mask. What the hell?

So distracted by this weirdo on the motorcycle, you did not notice another man in a black trench charging down the way. He actually did hit you from a full sprint.  

The force of the impact knocked the air from your lungs and caused you to fall over, he taking a tumble shorter thereafter 

The man, now having you stretched out beneath him, seemed entirely preoccupied. If he recognised the implications of your situation, he gave no indication to it. 

He spared you a single glance before looking back after the motorcycle bunny guy. 

"I need your jacket, now!" He demanded, not once looking at You

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"Jacket!" He demanded again. "Take it off!"

Were you being robbed?

If you were, this was one weird ass mugger. 

Another man came jogging up, his breath short and strained as she rested his hand on his knees. He looked horrified then apologetic  "Sherlock! Get off her!" 

The rude trench coat fella scrambled to his feet, as if just now realising he had been on top of you. He must be Sherlock.

The second man continued. "I'm sorry about him, we aren't mugging you. We would just like to borrow your jacket for a few minutes."

"Watson, he is getting away!" Sherlock complained

You removed your coat, and handed it over, completely confused. What else were you supposed to do?

The cold air bit your exposed skin, sending goose-flesh across your arms as you shivered from the chill

Sherlock and his big ass coat moved at a dead sprint towards an ice-crusted fountain 

Watson sighed and extended a hand to help you up. He shrugged off his own jacket, offering it to you.

You immediately refused his gesture, despite the sheer cold causing you to shiver. 

Watson frowned slightly at the rejection, his forehead creasing

You watched as this Sherlock character leapt onto the fountain,  nearly losing his footing as she scrambled across. The motorcycle man had almost reached the road, if he got there, he would be lost. 

Sherlock pursued him, jumping over gates and pushing past pedestrians to cut him off on the main trail.

You did not think he would make it, but remarkably, he did. He stood before the motorcycle your jacket extended in front of him

Bunny guy did not hesitate to charge at him, probably planning to run him down

Your breath hitched in your throat as you gazed at the scene. Like a matador facing off against a bull... except Sherlock had no sword. No back up. Just a jacket. How in the world was he going to stop a guy on a motorcycle with only a jacket???

You watched in anticipation, the cold you felt completely forgotten as the motorcycle drew nearer and nearer. 

Sherlock did not once hesitate nor flinch. He remained rooted in spot, his eyes steely with determination 

The bunny suit man got within a single metre of Sherlock.

You thought for sure that you were about to witness a collision. 

You were wrong

Sherlock threw your coat then rolled out of the way.

The coat hit the back wheel as it spun, getting snagged in the shifting gears and mechanisms. 

It wrapped itself around the back wheel, seizing it up and causing the motorcycle to skid out, slipping across the ice before colliding into a nearby tree.

Sherlock was quick to pounce, restraining the bunny suit guy. 

You were absolutely amazed. Both you and Watson seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over. Watson scolding Sherlock for pulling the stunt and you out of concern for your poor coat.

~

It wasn't long before the police arrived. Apparently bunny guy was some sort of expert thief turned murderer known for his iconic bunny suit. The cops have been after him for months and Sherlock had been the one to flush him out and trap him

You were mostly distraught over the loss of your jacket.  It was a good jacket, now completely lost to the motors and gears on the cycle

Watson promised that he would buy you a new one.  He even invited you back to his flat for some tea because he was worried you would catch cold if you walked all the way back to yours

You were going to refuse and just take a cab, then you learnt that Watson and Sherlock were flatmates. 

How could you say no?

You just met some of the most interesting people on the planet, how could anyone say no to tea with them?

Sherlock seemed adamantly against the idea, complaining loudly about Watson "taking home too many strays" because "they ruin my work."

"You should have thought of that before you ruined my favourite jacket." You retorted

They were both taken aback by your wit

Watson appeared rather smug. "Yeah. You could have just used your own."

Sherlock seemed positively offended that anyone would dare suggest such a thing. "Not my coat! The coat is iconic."

Watson just rolled his eyes 

~

Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you and Sherlock hit it off rather nicely 

You were amazed by his observational abilities, but shocked him by understanding how he came to his conclusions before he even explained.

This was when Sherlock began to like you

And Sherlock doesn't like anyone

It kinda baffles John, really

Sherlock, finding you rather entertaining, is fine with you popping in for tea every once in a while. 

He even let you assist on cases

This is where he really began to fall for you

He admires your intellect and thought process, considering it formidable albeit slower than his own

Let's be real, it's Sherlock 

But things kinda start out rough

At first, when Sherlock first realises that he has feelings for you, he "deletes" them

It's scary admitting when you fancy someone

And not just scary. Dangerous. Especially for Sherlock. 

He can't allow himself to be focused on anything except for work

Of course, the more time he spends with you, the more his feelings keep coming back, regardless of how often he deletes them

So he pushes you away

He lashes out

Becomes cold and distant, trying to make you give up

But you won't. You're having the time of your life with him and always comes back. No matter how many times he yells for you to go away. Its infuriating, actually 

There will come a point where Sherlock has to make peace with his own attractions but it will be very difficult for the both of you

You will have to work with him through this

Cause Sherlock is not going to be an easy catch. And an even harder one to keep

But I have faith in you.

I hope you enjoyed dear, let me know what you think :)