#so it's really nice to hear someone else's thoughts on my silly little rambles

[vividspectrum]

Da Vinci would have been a really smart choice- the fact that he's primarily known for being an artist would tie really well into Rui being a director and using theatre as the outlet for his inventions... honestly I can't believe that didn't cross my mind.

And yeah, I imagine the focus the localization team had was less "keep the joke" and more "keep the inventor angle", which highlights one of the biggest struggles when it comes to these kinds of things: you can't keep everything. There are decisions that have to be made on whether or not something is cut simply because of how different social climates are. You can get close to the original intent, but sometimes it just doesn't work out or genuinely wouldn't make sense outside of a certain audience. It's why I find this so fascinating and why I don't like discourse over "this line isn't exactly like what the translation says"

...I got off topic too, whoops ^^"

While some of the loading screen 1komas have minor dialogue changes between the JP and EN servers, 1koma #23, Rare Genius, is the only one that had the joke changed during the localisation process.

In the original Japanese version (left), Rui tells people to call him “the modern day Hiraga Gennai”. Gennai was a Japanese scientist and inventor from the 18th century, who was also famously gay and wrote multiple works on homosexuality. Tsukasa then asks Rui if he’s sure he wants to be known with that epithet, highlighting the implication. In this case, the joke is meant to be that Rui essentially just called himself gay.

In the official English localisation, Rui tells people to call him "the modern day Edison" instead, because the vast majority of EN players wouldn't know who Gennai was. Tsukasa's question is changed to make up for the different context, with him instead asking if Rui really "creates and makes a difference" like he claims he does. In this case, the joke is meant to be that Tsukasa doubts how accurate Rui’s claim is.

1koma translation by @/pjsekai_eng on Twitter

[sliced-peaches]

hit it off right

Jeong Jaehyun x reader | 5.8k | friends to…?

After hearing about him for what seems like forever, you finally meet Jungwoo’s hot roommate. But it’s a lot more wholesome than anything else.

📀 now playing: say it - maggie rogers // decent - bas, amaarae // perfect places - lorde // dear to me - electric guest

a/n: seeing Jae getting drunk with YoungJi did something for me. I miss him and it’s really hard being a military wife. this is part of a larger collection coming soon, so nothing spicy. pls enjoy~

mentions of: other nct members, bff! Jungwoo, alcohol consumption, marijuana usage, light flirting, honestly tho everyone is just shy and cute and silly

A few days before the party, you’d asked Jungwoo what kind of wine his roommate liked. Since it was a celebration, you figured you should at least bring a gift.

“He told me to tell you to not bring anything.”

“How could he even know?” You whine, incredulous.

“Because I know you and your habit of balling out on people who are being celebrated.”

There’s not much you can say to that. You are known to bring a nice bottle of something that suits the taste of the one being celebrated. You love to see the joy on someone’s face when they get a tailored gift.

It’s the least you could do for someone when you notice their hard work. It feels good to appreciate someone, especially a friend like Jungwoo. It’s only natural you’d extend the perks to his roommate, right?

“You talk to your roomie about me?” You coo, poking his cheek. Setting his coffee cup down, he nods, seemingly pleased to share this piece of information with you.

“In passing. I told him you were coming, that I invited your coworker, too. I’ve gushed about her to him a few times. He just kinda smiled? Not in a weird way. Like… I don’t know. He just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he said he was happy to hear that. So-“

“Sounds like he’s in full support.”

Jungwoo smiles, bringing the cup back to his lips. Then he gives you a sly look over the rim before he speaks again.

“He also asked me about you.”

“What about me?”

“I guess I talk about you all the time, right? I told him about your art, all the art shows you’re in. I’m sure I’ve shown him a picture of you before, like from that time we went to the beach.”

“You showed your roommate my bikini photos?”

His eyes widen and he starts to immediately apologize when raise your hands to cut him off.

“Wait. Did he like them?”

“He… didn’t say much of anything if I’m being honest.”

“Oh.”

“Which doesn’t really mean anything, honestly. Sometimes he just doesn’t have anything to say.”

“…okay that’s a little better.”

It’s hard to imagine Jungwoo living with someone who doesn’t talk as much as he does.

The way you two often communicate is rapid-fire, dramatic, occasionally riffing off the other’s jokes. He likes to share his thoughts out loud and use you as a sounding board. You like to ramble about abstract art ideas and the special interest of the week.

Trying to picture your yap king living with someone who probably makes three facial expressions a year (says Jungwoo) makes you wish you could be a fly on the wall.

“How much have I told you about Jae? I know he’s always out, or at work so….”

His roommate’s name is Jaehyun. All you really know about him is that he’s close in age to Jungwoo, he used to be really competitive m, and that he has a cousin somewhere in Europe. Not much else past that.

“One time I was over you showed me a photo or two from when you guys were in high school. I’ve seen him in your stories too.”

“You said he was cute! I forgot about that.”

You recall a guy with dark hair and a cute bowl cut, wearing the same basketball jersey as Jungwoo. When you said cute, you were referring to their round faces and goofy hair cuts. The more recent pictures on Instagram were usually from an angle where you couldn’t really see his face, but he was always dressed nice from what you could tell.

“He was! Little cutie stranger man.”

There’s a beat.

“Okay, so about that. He’s was cute but now he’s, like, super handsome.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, he’s hot. Bulked up, started dressing nicer, smells good. His jawline is insane. He should actually model. I didn’t know he was going to look like that when we grew up, you know?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Damn, you ever told him all that?”

“All the time, actually. He’s so sick of me. At this point I’m just saying something that’s objectively true. You’d be lying if you thought he was ugly. So that being said-“

He whips his head towards you, you watch a plot and scheme form in his brain. His lips curl into something devilish.

“Careful not to fall in love with my roommate, yeah?”

You blink at him, two times. Three times.

“Huh?”

His words sounded like a warning, but it feels like he very much would prefer you do the opposite.

“I just feel like he’s someone you’d fall for.”

“You’ve never seen me fall for anyone. Not once since you’ve known me.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m saying… I think you guys will get along well.”

“Don’t hope too hard, but I’m sure he’s lovely.”

Sighing, Jungwoo offers you a sympathetic look. You ignore it and instead check for any emails from the art festival you’re vending at later in the month. It’s not much help, as you can still feel his eyes on you.

“I think he’d be good for you.”

“I don’t think playing matchmaker with your friends is that good of an idea,” you clipped.

Right before you met Jungwoo in senior year of college, you’d been in a relationship that ended pretty badly. You were in love, and you think he was, too. At one point at least.

But when things run their course, and you stay in them too long, they start to drain you of everything.

You’d lost a lot of time and energy trying to be pretty enough, interesting enough, desirable enough to keep the spark alive. To keep his attention. But to no avail. It was like he was just waiting for you to leave.

After a while, feeling empty and settling for whatever he could toss your way was too much to bear. It was just time to let go.

It was hard when at the end, you realized he just didn’t love you like you loved him. But was too scared himself to be honest with you about it.

Heartbreak was one thing, but grieving a relationship that wasn’t all that real was another. It took you a long time to move through that pain.

Jungwoo watched you put a lot of effort into rebuilding your personality, your self worth, your confidence. He was nothing but supportive, as were your other friends, dragging you to every show in the city, joining you at a new cafe or listening to your new ideas about art you’d been neglecting. And Jungwoo’s friends were a wonderful addition to your life, as well.

It was beyond being choosy- you’d taken yourself out of the dating game altogether, focusing on work, art, your friends. Yourself.

Now you were very careful not to let anyone in and disrupt that. It’s been a beautiful life to fall back into; you’d hate to lose it to the wrong person.

Jungwoo is nothing but understanding still, squeezing your arm instead of pushing any further.

“Well, regardless, I know you’ll get along well. Even as friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, a small smile creeping back onto your face.

“Don’t look into his eyes, though, seriously. He’s something else.”

On the trip over to Jungwoos apartment your friend tells you about her day, catching you up on some work gossip and her roommates string of interesting dates.

She laughs at how engrossed you are in her words, loving how excited you are to listen to the tea. You’re asking questions, connecting dots. The entertainment is delicious.

“I’m never on shit, so I’m living vicariously through you guys,” you sigh.

“We’re on shit tonight! I’m excited to party with Jungwoo.”

You flit your eyes over to her. “Yeah?”

“Girl, yes. He seems like a good person to party with. He’s always so bubbly and sweet when we go out for coffee, and always supportive of you so he’s good in my book.”

You wish she knew why you were smiling so big.

“He is a sweetheart, and a wonderful friend. I feel like you guys will get along well, I’m surprised we haven’t all gone out before.”

Pulling your phone out, you open your camera to check for a lipgloss reapplication when text from Jungwoo comes through.

woo-ah: 🎶 what’s ur ETA?🎵

“C-can I be honest with you?”

Immediately you lock your phone, adjusting your body to give her your full attention.

“Of course you can.”

She glances towards the driver, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth like she’s telling you a juicy secret.

“I think he’s gorgeous.” Her cute confession has you both giggling like schoolgirls in the back of the rideshare. “Don’t tell him, please!”

“Babe, your secret is safe with me.” You pinch your fingers together, pretending to zip your lips. “You wanna hear a secret?”

Her eyes widen in anticipation.

“I think he thinks you’re cute, too.”

“Shut up, no way!”

“Let’s just say I have insider info.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

you: appx 4 min 🤠

woo-ah: 🪩🕺🫶🏼

You lock arms with your friend as you lead the way into the apartment building, being here enough times to know what floor and that the right elevator is faster than the left.

She’s talking about the book her roommate just recommended her as you get to Jungwoos floor. You even ask her to send you a text, saying that she should start a bookclub as you rap your knuckles on the door.

Jungwoo opens the door, moving to hug you both and welcome you into the apartment.

“Come in, come in!”

Music is playing from a speaker, and a chorus of voices comes from the living room.

You walk ahead of Jungwoo and your friend, who are exchanging thank you’s for invitations and gifts of alcohol, and a chorus of voices welcomes you in the living room.

Doyoung and Donghyuck practically race and slide around in their socks to hug you and kiss you on the forehead and you pull them in for a haphazard group hug.

“Long time no see!” Doyoung clasps his hands together. “It’s so nice to have us all together at one time.”

“What a mom, we’re here to get shitfaced.” Donghyuck teasing Doyoung is secretly something you live for, but you pretend to defend Doyoung from him.

“Let us get a few drinks in before you start shit talking him, damn!”

The guys make sure you’re introduced to the rest of their friends, the ones you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. You’ve heard all their names in conversation, usually when talking about some social event or fun times they had back in school. It was wonderful to finally put names to faces, and they were more than happy to do the same for you.

“Jungwoo finally brought you around!” Renjun and Jaemin cheer. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”

You blush under all the affection from them.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you guys.”

“Come on, you have to try the cocktail YangYang made.”

Dragging you into the kitchen, you’re flooded by more introductions, jokes and insanely loud laughter, and it feels like you’ve been doing this for years with them already.

YangYang passes you a glass, a sliced lemon garnishing the side and all. You take one sip, then immediately take another. “Wow, this is delicious. Thank you!”

“There are three kinds of liquors in there,” he says, shooting you an apologetic look. “All light, but they told me I had to get everyone drunk, so-“

Before he can even try to apologize, stop him.

“That’s my kind of drink, then!” And you propose a toast with whoever’s in the kitchen.

The cheers begin to die down when someone walks into the kitchen.

Jungwoo has a lot of attractive friends. You knew this from the jump. He’s a model, he had model friends, friends who were in entertainment and the arts. From seeing whoever was on his Instagram story every few weeks, to getting drinks with everyone else occasionally, you’d gotten very used to being surrounded by pretty men.

Jungwoo did not prepare you well enough for Jeong Jaehyun.

“It’s our boy! Congratulations!”

The kitchen erupts into more greetings and well wishes as the man of the hour had just arrived. You sit back as everyone moves into pat him on the back, hug him or, like Donghyuck, kiss him right on the cheek.

Everyone’s voices just turn into background noise as you take him in.

He smiles the most beautiful smile you’ve ever been blessed enough to witness, and you have to force yourself to take a large sip of your drink so not to gawk at him.

Renjun and Jaemin motion for you to come closer, and you use the one solid second you have to steel your nerves as you step closer to them.

Jaemin slings his arm around you. “Jae, have you met our girl yet?”

Renjun playfully shakes his arm. “Jungwoo has been keeping her from us for eons.”

Jaehyun takes a step closer to you. He’s tall, much taller than you, so you have to tilt your head back to fully look at him.

And what a sight to see.

Jaehyun smiles again, a little shy but just for you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, smile so sincere and kind like he’s smiling at someone he’s known for years.

Extending his hand out to you, he wants to greet you properly. Shakily you place your smaller hand in his. But instead of shaking your hand, he uses both hands to gently hold it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The baritone voice almost knocks you on your ass.

Taking take a moment to will some confidence, some chill to come through when you speak, you swallow and push your shoulders back.

“You as well, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming, yeah?”

It’s taking everything in you to sound normal and relaxed, unfazed by this man.

He cocks his head to the side and laughs, his nose crinkling and smile lines that resemble whiskers making themselves visible. The sight makes your head spin.

“A very long time.” He releases your hand, and you place it against the side of your glass hoping it will absorb some of the heat from the exchange. “Thank you for coming.”

With your resolve expiring in seconds, you’re so thankful for Jungwoo making his way into the kitchen. While he introduces your work friend to Jaehyun, you shuffle out the kitchen alongside Renjun and Jaemin.

You sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to them bicker over what game the party should play first, remembering how to breathe.

Jaehyun quietly settles into a chair for one close to you, tuning into the commotion. He doesn’t make a move towards you, and you’re glad even if just for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you take him in.

Handsome isn’t the right word to use, you think. He’s dressed clean and simple, nice jeans and a white t-shirt. The side profile is something unreal, perfect chiseled features but his face still soft and welcoming. His dark hair is slightly pushed back, a few stands falling over his forehead. He leans forward to tap Jaemin on the shoulder, complimenting him on ‘how big he’s gotten’ at the gym, with the younger preening under his praise.

Just in the short time in the same room, it’s clear that Jaehyun is like a big brother. And from what Jungwoo has told you is super sweet and caring. That alone makes you want to know him more, and makes him all the more attractive.

Looking over at you, he offers you a small smile which you mirror to avoid coming off as awkward. Noticing that you are both nursing the same drink, he raises his glass towards you for a small toast.

“To you and the summer,” you offer, raising your glass as you do so.

“I can drink to that.”

You take another large swig of your drink, hoping after the third your nerves can handle more than two sentences next time.

It’s silly, you think, to be this affected by a man. An attractive one, yes. But just a man. A friend of a friend, even.

Jungwoo’s words echo in the back of your mind, that he thought you and Jaehyun would get along well. Part of you doesn’t want to prove him right, but another part of you wonders if getting along with Jaehyun wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

So you try your best to start and make conversation.

“I heard about your promotion, congratulations!”

“Ah thank you,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s actually more of a career change.”

“Really? What are you going to be doing?”

He takes a minute to respond, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard in the first place. Before you can repeat yourself, however, he’s speaking again.

“I’m… writing music. Singing some, too. For me and for others.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be working with Taeyong a lot, in his studio.”

Eyebrows raising, you lean in a bit.

“You sing, Jaehyun?”

“Sometimes.” He takes a drink. “I write stories on artists, interview people in music. Do some editing. The company I work for was really cool about letting me try different things, I really liked working for them.”

There’s a moment where you’re not sure if he’s going to speak again, and right when you think you should ask another question he continues.

“But I always wanted to sing my own songs, produce my own work. My current line of business has its perks, a lot of connections too. So I’ve been working on my own stuff on the side.”

You didn’t peg him as someone in performance- he’s so pretty you’re surprised he isn’t a model or an actor honestly. But he doesn’t seem to be anything anyone would think at first glance.

“That’s so exciting. Especially working with friends, I like Taeyongie’s music. And ’m really happy to hear you’re able to chase after your dream.”

“Thank you, I’m excited to share.”

He looks at you through his eyelashes as he takes another drink.

So we’re both trying to numb our nerves, you thought to yourself.

“I hope I get to hear some music from you soon.”

He casts another smile your way, and that’s when you know the liquor is kicking in because it doesn’t send you reeling this time.

“I hope you do, too. Soon.”

“Shots?”

Everyone gathers around in the living room, passing small glasses around to those partaking in alcoholic festivities tonight. You pass one to Jaehyun, who holds it up against the light.

“I haven’t taken a shot in a long time.”

“I got you the good shit, Jae.” Jungwoo holds up two expensive bottles. “Whiskey? Or gin?”

“Oh shit… let’s do the gin. Sticking with lights tonight.”

He asks for your preference, and you do the same.

Jungwoo opens the bottle of gin and pours the first round of shots for the night. After he pours his own, he holds his glass up for a toast.

“I know this is, like, the fourth toast of the night but it probably won’t be the last if I’m being honest.”

Taeyong groans. “I’m betting on at least seven in total.”

“Those are rookie numbers,” YangYang yells out, the younger boys cackling and suggesting higher numbers.

“Anyway!” Jungwoo bangs the gin bottle on the coffee table. “This is the emotional one. It’s the end of the summer and I hate to see her go. But we’re moving into fall, and falling into our new lives-“

Donghyuck pretends to yawn.

“Dude shut up, it’s just Jaehyun-”

“I’m not finished!” And he taps the bottle again, your head falling against the back of the couch in silent laughter. “Thank you all for being part of another summer and thank you guys for coming to celebrate one of my closest, oldest friends.”

“Literally.”

Doyoung throws a pillow at Donghyuck and motions for Jungwoo to continue.

Jungwoo turns to Jaehyun, who’s made his way onto the couch alongside you and your friend. “I’m happy to see you make your wildest dreams come true. I can’t wait to see you become the sexy superstar you were always meant to be. Cheers!”

The room is full of cheers and then groans from knocking back shots with no chasers, but it’s a pleasant burn as it slides down your throat.

You blow a kiss at Jungwoo, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “Your speech was beautiful. Very moving.”

The next hour is filled with mini beer pong (players had to sip water instead of alcohol, many thanks to Doyoung), stories about the boys time in school or how some of them met their partners, and shared soju.

The boys complain that he’ll cheat if he plays so instead Jaehyun shares a strong bottle of peach soju, his favorite, with you and your coworker.

At first, it’s very cute to just watch Jaehyun laugh at all of his friends antics. He enjoys listening, occasionally cracking a few jokes or making funny noises. But he’s more than happy to settle back into the couch and observe.

But he’s also big on being a good host, even if he’s the one being celebrated- if he isn’t offering you another drink he’s offering to grab something from the kitchen for you. They’re small but clear gestures to make sure his couch neighbors are as comfortable as he is.

He’s laid back and quiet but attentive- it has you swooning a bit. It’s a contrast to the rest of the men in the apartment, who are also sweet but characteristically loud and rambunctious. You love it, but it’s fascinating to watch Jaehyun hum and giggle to himself rather than dominate a conversation.

After you clear the second soju bottle and Jungwoo has wedged himself between you and your friend, you think you hear Jaehyun giggle beside you.

“What’s so funny?” You laugh, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.

He just shrugs, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. He’s pretty like this, you think.

“Are you a silly drunk, Jae?” You tease, catching the attention of Donghyuck.

“Oh man, he’s gonna start getting real silly soon.” The younger man comes to sit on the armrest closest to Jaehyun, affectionately brushing his hair off his forehead. He weakly tries to swat Donghyucks hand away.

“I’m not silly,” he tries to argue, way too cute and whiny compared to the man you met just two hours ago.

“You’re sooo silly right now,” Donghyuck laughs. “She’s going to have to take care of you soon!”

His eyebrows shoot up and he tries to sit straighter, attempting to coolly settle against the back of the couch. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m-“

“Come get some air with us!” Jaemin and Donghyuck pull him up by his arms, with little to no resistance from Jaehyun. He just rolls his eyes as they pull him to his feet.

Jaemin cheers, pushing him towards the sliding door to the deck.

Looking over his shoulder, he nods at you. “Need anything while I’m up?”

You wave him off towards the door.

“No, I’m okay. Go get some air.”

With you beaming up at him, Jaehyun swears the room has gotten a few degrees hotter. The air will do him good.

Jaehyun finds you in the kitchen later, just finishing one of the cookies someone brought. You pass one to him and he finishes it in one bite.

“How many drinks in are you?”

“Shit… I’m at about four. Not including that shot.”

“I think I’m at about the same,” he says, shuffling closer to you at the kitchen island overlooking the living room.

There’s a moment of silence that you share, watching all of his and Jungwoos friends (and yours now) fill up the apartment with laughter (and some screaming- Renjun set Mario Kart up on the tv).

Your heart swells knowing how loved Jungwoo is, as well as Jaehyun.

But then it dawns on you that you haven’t seen Jungwoo or your friend in a while. Before you can mention that to Jaehyun, he bumps his hip against yours.

The alcohol might not have been enough to turn the alarms off in your brain yet, but your body is slow to react to him essentially snuggling into your side. He’s warm, and he smells warm too. Like a vanilla candle. There’s something else you can’t place, but it’s more than pleasant.

“I have to tell you a secret.” He whispers, and it’s cute and kind of whiny.

“A secret?” You say, barely over a whisper. He nods slowly, looking into the crowd.

He can’t see shit, in all honesty.

“I may or may not be a little crossed.”

“That’s what I smell on you?”

“Shit, is it bad?” Just like that, he’s a little more self conscious than he is silly. He smells his shirt in a few different places, earning a laugh from you.

“No, you’re fine. It’s because you’re so close that I can smell it.” He sighs and laughs almost at himself. “Is that where you and the boys went?”

“Yeah. I don’t usually smoke but it’s something like a special occasion.”

“Absolutely it is. You deserve it.”

He simply hums, letting a a few seconds pass before he speaks again.

“You smoke?”

“Weed? Rarely.”

“Cigs?”

“Not once in my life.”

“Good for you, we’re all nicotine addicts in here.”

“Vape away, I could never judge.”

At that you both turn towards the other at the same time, chests inches apart.

His eyes are low from the weed, the whites tinted red. He’s looking down at you, a silly, boyish grin on his lips. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, lips curving into a grin of their own.

“Thanks for coming tonight.” His voice is soft, barely audible. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning into him, wishing to hear him a little louder.

“Of course, I had to support the homie. And play wingman.”

He tilts his head back to glance around the room , the realization hitting him then.

“Oh shit, I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Then I guess I did a good job. I barely did anything but whatever.”

He laughs, voice deep and rumbly. “You did great.”

He leans onto the counter, his arm resting closing to where your hip sits against the edge. He slowly shifts his eyes back over to you, looking over your frame. Just once, even his sluggish brain is careful not to get ahead of itself.

“I’m glad we finally got to meet.”

“I am too.” Your skin is on fire under his intense gaze. It’s not so much intense as it is just so warm, so amiable. You deflect to take some of the heat off of you, quite literally. “Jungwoo talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah? What does he say?”

That you’re so fucking handsome and I’d be stupid to lie and disagree.

“That you don’t say too much, but you’re a really good friend.”

A surprised look washed over his face, then he turns sheepish.

“He’s…… that’s sweet of him.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, thinking on his next words as carefully as his crossed mind will allow him. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He needs someone like you.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone who isn’t as shy as him.”

“Haha, you think I don’t get shy?” It’s funny when you think back on how nerve wracking is was to shake his hand for the first time.

But he’s just giving you this knowing look now, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“If you do, you hide it well.” You could scream. Can he see right through you? “But seriously. You push him to do well.”

Jaehyun is slow to speak, but even inebriated he’s intentional. Something you’ve learned in just the past few hours about him is that it may take him a while to get his thoughts out, but it’s more than worth it to hear what he has to say.

You hang on to every pause like your life depends on it, eager to hear what comes out of his mouth next.

“Before you guys worked together, he was a lot more… reserved. And passive? Like, he’s good at everything he does. We know this. But… he never really sought recognition.”

“You’re right. But he deserves it.”

He nods while he thinks on his next words.

“Yeah. I remember in school he was just happy to pass and be included in things. Never attracted much attention to himself. Never wanted to be in the spotlight. But since working with you, he’s become proud of the work he does. His confidence has grown. He’s louder. Funnier. You pushed him a lot.”

“That’s all him, he works hard-“

“He does, you pushed him though. When he finally started modeling last year all he could do was say how thankful he was for you. How you encouraged him, helped him with headshots. Went shopping with him and made sure he felt good going into auditions. And it took off.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“He… he said that? Really?”

“He did. You’ve been a very good friend to him.”

Blinking away the tears that started to pinprick behind your eyes, you smile at Jaehyun whose own eyes are filled with mirth. Even cross faded, Jaehyun’s words were so sincere and kind.

“Are you crying?”

You sniffle, using your thumbs to collect any tears in the corner of your eyes so not to ruin your makeup.

“I was gonna but I’m okay.”

He laughs that hearty laugh again and ruffles your hair. It’s such a small gesture, but so comfortable. Domestic even. Like you’ve been friends for years. It makes your heart even fuller than it already is and if he keeps it up, it’ll burst before the end of the night.

The alcohol coursing through you is doing nothing but spread this warmth, double time. Happiness feels good coursing through you.

“Let’s get some water, yeah?” He cocks his head toward the fridge. “Doyoung brought some sparkling water.”

You begin to follow him as he takes a few steps backwards. “What flavor?”

“We have…” He starts, opening the door to the fridge. “I can barely see. Wow.”

“Move, I’ll look.”

You hip check him out of the way, and hear someone come into the kitchen behind you.

“I’m no better, but this looks like ginger peach. And calamansi.”

“Pass me a calamansi, please? You want a sparkling water, Taeyong?”

“Do you think it’s a good mixer for gin?” He asks, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear.

Then, that someone yells out: “Another round of shots?”

Laughing, you hand Jaehyun his sparkling water, and pass a ginger and peach flavored water to Taeyong. “Let’s find out, yeah?”

More cheering is heard as you shuffle back into the living room and let Doyoung pour the next round of shots.

He’s a sweetheart and pours the shots right into you and Taeyongs cans, Jaehyun sneakily placing a sealed water bottle next to your foot.

It’s well into the night, the hour a single digit when the party starts to die down.

Jungwoo is in the loveseat for one and a half, your friend snuggled into his side.

You’ve found yourself back on the couch with Jaehyuns head resting on your shoulder and one of his legs swung over Taeyongs. Miraculously, Donghyuck has found a way to lay across you all comfortably.

“I’m going to order a ride home for us soon,” your friend says through a yawn. Donghyuck is already whining, earning some light smacks from the older boys under him.

“We’re so comfy, why would you want to mess up our cuddle pile?

“I’m not cuddling, I’m being leaned on,” you tease, grinning down at Jaehyun who can barely hold his eyes open. He’s trying his best to focus on one of your faces because he sees three, but he’s not complaining.

“Hm… my bad.” He moves to sit up, but Donghyuck just nestles into him even further, and Jaehyun can’t seem to muster up enough strength to (care) knock him into the floor. “I really… I really did try.”

Jaehyun has hit peak silly hours. From little hums and cute noises to the worst dad jokes you’ve heard in a while, you understand what Donghyuck meant earlier. Jaemin and Jungwoo even got him to cutely pose for drunk selfies earlier.

Laughing through your nose, you use the hand that’s free to reach around and pat his cheek affectionately. In this state he instinctually leans into your touch, humming in approval. You have to fight the urge to squeeze his cheeks. “Jae you gonna be alright?”

“I told you she was going to have to take care of you!” At that, he and Taeyong had enough and pushed him into the floor. He lets out a squawk as his body hits the ground with a light thud. “Fuck. It’s comfier down here anyway.”

Jungwoo slowly stands up, helping your friend to her feet. “So Donghyuck is sleeping here, literally right there. No blanket. I don’t want to see you using something weird as a replacement either.”

While the boys still present start to bicker some more, Jaehyun taps your knee to get your attention.

“I’ll be okay. Just got a little carried away.”

“You’re okay. Let’s get you to bed then?”

His eyes open a little wider, mouth parting to say something. You wait.

“Are you staying over?”

“No I’m going home tonight.”

He pouts, and it almost sends you to another dimension.

“Aw don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Good.”

You call to Taeyong, who really isn’t that much better, but he does help you get Jaehyun off the couch and down the hall to his bedroom.

You let Taeyong handle the hard part of getting him out of his jeans and under the covers, heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. “Jungwoo, you have any painkiller?”

“In that drawer by the stove.” He stands beside you in the kitchen. “For Jae?”

“Yeah. You want any water?”

“Nah I was good tonight. I’ll be okay.” He purses his lips. “You’re sweet for that. Taking care of him.”

“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know… exactly what I mean.” You shake your head and walk to Jaehyun’s room, entering while Taeyong exits.

“He’s decent, just whiny.”

“Thank you, I’ll just leave this for him then.”

You approach the side of the bed where he’s sprawled out, eyes barely open but you can see them following you even in the dark.

“Brought you some water. And some painkiller. Take it when you can, yeah?”

“Hm. Tell Jungwoo to give Hyuck a blanket.”

You chuckle and ruffle his hair before moving to leave.

“Have a good night, Jaehyun.”

“Hmm…”

unknown number: hey it’s jaehyun

unknown number: jungwoo gave me your number. thanks for coming yesterday. don’t be a stranger!

[doukeshi-kun]

omg i just had an idea…..nikolai tokyo drift street racer….he’s tatted and wears pressed on shirts….oh mygod..

𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚

replies ✥ *gasp* new character unlocked??? hello street racer!nikolai muehehehe

content ✥ fem!reader, petnames

You were left alone by the bar. Your friend has been gone for about an hour now, spending her time with her partner who is one of the racers here. You are self-conscious of the environment of this street racing gang and you have found solace in staying just by the bar.

The noise of cars, the screeching of tyres and road, the cheers and curses from the people, sexy ladies standing by expensive cars—Oh, this place is so not for your introverted self. You wish you could go home but you have no exact idea how to get back without your friend's guidance.

You sigh once again as you watch the race of three cars that are happening right now. The cars are so fast—like a bullet. But you do not find it fun to just wait until a car is approaching the same checkpoint.

“Hey, pretty.”

You hear someone say, but you don't turn around since you thought the call was not for you. Until the person pokes your shoulder multiple times, causing you to turn quickly.

And you see a smiling man standing right beside you—his smile is adorable and innocent, and yet his appearance is rough. He has his white hair tied into a small bun, wears a compressed black shirt with matching pants and his arms are covered in abstract tattoos.

Beautiful man.

“Hello, pretty.” He says again, propping his hand on the bar table, looking at you. You feel heat rushes to your face and your stomach is twisting. He is standing so close—close enough that his cologne is practically ingrained in your head now.

“H-Hi...”

“You alone?”

“Obviously.” You reply almost too quickly, your tone sounds sarcastic. And you are quick to correct yourself upon seeing his amused face. “I-I mean, I wasn't alone. I had my friend and she's... gone somewhere.”

He grins. “You look new. Is it your first time coming here?” You nod slowly, eyes scanning his face—he is indeed a pretty man. His skin is flawless, though there is a scar slit down his left eye. He smiles at you and offers his hand. “My name is Nikolai. You are?”

You look at his hand—rings and silver bracelets. You reach it and your heart makes a small jump upon feeling his touch. You mutter your name and Nikolai hums pleasedly.

“Nice to meet you, love. Now, I'm cutting to the chase here. I think you're really cute.” He says, not bothering to hide his flirtatious manner. He clasps your hand with both of his and says excitedly, “Since your friend isn't around, she doesn't mind if I steal you for a moment, right? Oh—Oops, silly me. I should've asked you if you're already someone else's. So do you have any partners or something?”

He talks so smoothly—but a little rambling. Something about his tone reminds you of a jester. Lively and witty. Humorous and theatrics. It is a complete contrast to his looks.

“No, I don't see anyone at the moment...”

He giggles. “Well, isn't that perfect?” He releases your hand, nudging his head to the parking area that has a fleet of racing cars. “Would you like to come with me? I can show you around. Besides, isn't it boring to just sit here and drink your third glass of cocktail?”

“Well... you are right, but—”

“Come on, baby. I'll show you fun. You gotta have some fun if you came here after all those troubles.” He tries to convince you again. You are unsure. You do feel bored, yes. And now that you have a company, it's not a problem to have fun a little, right? Your friend is gone and this man is being all buddy-buddy.

“I guess I could...”

Nikolai smirks as he gestures for you to follow him. You do, trailing him by his side. He asks you a couple of casual questions. Though you are getting comfortable with him, you cannot help but notice curious eyes from passersby.

Is he well-known here? Why do they look at me like that? Or am I kissing my own ass?

Timid by the unwanted attention, especially when you are finally entering the proximity of other racers, you cling your hand to Nikolai's tattooed arm, scooting closer.

“Ah, don't you worry baby. These people not gonna eat you.” He says. “No one's gonna bother you. If they do, I'm gonna shoot them.”

“What— That's not funny..!”

“Oops, my bad, darl'.” Nikolai grins, guiltless. He stops by a dark red racing car with black and white patterns around it. You scan the car, noticing a common occurrence of a theme here. This car must be expensive when you see the logo on it.

“You’re pretty rich.” You say when you touch the patterns. They feel like stickers and surprisingly, you see it is almost peeled off. Nikolai taps the car proudly.

“Uh-huh. Expensive car, cheap stickers. Don't get me wrong, I just love to dress her up frequently. Cheap stickers are easy to take off.” He explains. “Let's get inside. I decorated the interior more.” He opens the door, inviting you to get in. You follow him, getting into the passenger seat, and indeed, the interior of his car is much more flamboyant.

There are small decoration pieces of jester masks, the dashboard is covered with black and white stripes-printed fabric, and a few red pompoms are hanging on the rearview mirror. The backseat is covered with white fabric with black diamonds printed on them. There are two small cushions on the seat too.

“Phew, okay.” Nikolai enters the car after he is done talking with other racers briefly. He closes the door and starts the engine, turning on the AC and radio. You lean forward, looking outside. Colourful racing cars all around.

Suddenly the car is moving out from the parking lot. You turn to Nikolai. Your eyes cannot stop staring at his tattooed arms, trailing down to his body. You almost forgot what you wanted to say to him, distracted by his physique.

“Nikolai? Where are we going?”

He smirks and says nothing as he drives his car to the racing road.

“Wait. Wait, are you racing now? Wait, I thought you were just gonna show me around—”

“I said I'm gonna show you fun, didn't I?” Nikolai grins teasingly. More cars are approaching the starting line. The fierce noise of roaring engines is all around you. You look outside the window beside you, seeing that the spectators are all spirited up for another race for the night. You even see your friend among the crowd, with a beer in her hand.

A presence looms behind you and you feel his warm breath teasing your neck. Nikolai reaches for the seatbelt right next to you. His scent salivates you and you swallow nervously when you peek a glance at his bicep. Your stomach makes a funny twist when he is just too close.

Nikolai cackles at your face when you turn to him. He grins and stretches his arms.

“Buckle up, darling! If I win this race, I'll get your number!”

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[devnmon]

dating sadie adler, kisser of women hcs ♡

obviously i had to do this for my bbg sadie. she deserves MORE appreciation and if nobody will write for her I WILL!!!! i gladly will. i love her, so enjoy these! luv u all!

[also just pretend this is historically accurate bye!]

Sadie is a very intelligent woman... she knows how to hunt, how to use a gun, who knows what else is in that brain of hers. She must have so many hidden talents and skills, and you intend to find out what.

Though her addition to the group was somewhat abrupt, you and Abigail do your best to make her feel welcome. You aren't sure if Sadie feels the comfort that you hope your words provide to her at first. Once the group moves to Clemens Point, you find she's coming out of her shell little by little. You see it in her pristine new outfit when she returns from a run with Arthur, and the way she holds herself is much different than before.

This new version of Sadie Adler was fiery, confident and stickin' it to the man– you quickly found out not to get on her bad side. Though you think you'd let her do anything to you if it were the right situation.

The minute Sadie realizes what she's feeling for you is more than platonic... it takes her back a step. She never thought she'd find someone other than Jake to want in that way– but here you are. You're always at her side, perfect to her, and she will protect you like her life depends on it. When she silently swallows her feelings and pretends she doesn't care, you notice.

You all but have to drag her out of camp in the middle of the night to get a minute alone with her; otherwise there's prying eyes and others whose attention you really didn't wish to grab.

Once the two of you are alone you'll go off on how she's been avoiding you at every turn, rambling on and on like you'd done something wrong. "What happened to you?" you'd ask. She sighs and goes "You happened to me."

"I've been a fool. Do you hate me? What have I done?" statements flow from her when she notices you're silent, staring while she stutters over confessing her feelings. It's at that point you shut her up by kissing her and you can almost hear the sparks flying from the two of you. There's a big ass smile on her face afterwards and she kisses you in between her smiles. Sadie Adler is a smitten fool for you.

She's observant, patient and good with her hands. That is: she teaches you how to shoot a rifle, since you're more comfortable to ask her. She gladly shows you, and when you think you've got it, her arms surround you from behind to adjust your aim– and you're blushing. After she takes her hands away, you're flustered by the loss and silently begging for her to put them back.

Will match outfits with you nonchalantly as a statement to your relationship with her. Like say you're wearing an outfit with blue or white, she'll wear a blue scarf and her white shirt to match you. She'll even give you a piece of her jewelry to wear in that instance, or get you a piece of your own to match hers. Sadie's sentimental & cute like that!!!

Sadie will also leave you notes secretly, to which you fawn over every time. She also definitely gushes over the ones you leave her, when you compare her to the sweet flowers you pick for her. [Arthur noticed how hard she was blushing one time and got curious, she's had to read your notes in private ever since!]

Definitely gets veryyy touchy and affectionate when she's had a few drinks. She's slurring out "Heyyy pretty girlll I know where you can find a nice place to stay for the night..." in your ear and you have to excuse yourselves in *attempt* to get her to sleep.

Sadie is definitely the type to say "i owe you a hundred kisses" if you had a bet with her about something. Usually it was silly, harmless contests that either of you could compete against each other in playfully.

Sadie also introduced you to pranks, which she loves to pull on the other guys. One time the two of you messed with Arthur, sending him silly letters from someone named "Hugh Janus". The two of you tried to hold in your laughs when he got frustrated and yelled out "WHO THE HELL IS HUGH JANUS??" in camp unprompted.

Sadie is a huge cuddler at night, intertwining her whole body with yours to keep warm, especially when it gets chilly at night. There's not a smidge of space to have for yourself, it's shared with her always. Other examples of this are her linking her pinkie finger with yours when you're standing around the group. She loves physical touch so much that she'll do anything to have her skin on yours no matter what; if it's riding on the back of the same horse, or pouring her a drink, she's making some sort of contact. It's her way to say "I'm here & I love you". She's such a sweetheart to you.

NSFW

Yeah Sadie is a top this Sadie is a top that... may I suggest... she's a switch. On rare occasions, Sadie Loves being on her knees for you. She's a real freak like that. She'll beg and beg and beg until you cave and give her what she wants: you.

“Please, stop teasin’ me, just give me what I want. You know I’ll return the favor, sweet girl.” Her raspy voice, her gentle commands, her pretty thighs spread for you..

But when she's in control? Oh it's absoluuutely over for you. She'll praise you constantly cause she knows it's what you want to hear. “Doin’ so good for me, pretty girl. C’mon, let me hear you, use your words. I know you can.. Such a good girl.”

Her soft little whimpers & pleas as she climbs higher & higher. she’s so desperate for release & your touch, she’s basically sobbing for it. her eyes never leave you once she hears the same needy whine come from your side of the room, wanting to watch you come undone from the sight of her spread out for you.

You can't tell me she doesn't get off on you pulling her hair when it's in a messy braid. You love to run your fingers through it and grip, but it's too hot out for that. Plus she thinks it's easier for her braid to be pulled, and fucking loves it.

Her skilled hands could make you a whimpering mess, easily. She knows her way around, and boy if she isn't good at what she does.

"There you go, you got it, takin me so well..." in that accent of hers.. You'll fold every time. “Oh, look at you, pretty girl. Fallin’ apart for me so easily. D'ya know how whipped you got me?" Yeah, she's a lady who knows how to drive you crazy.

Then again... she's a goddamn tease. Especially if you've been bratty? Oh it's over for you. She feels your body up and down, making you work for any other sensual touches by begging. It's music to her ears. She lovesss to make you work for it.

She'll take her time for however long edging you with her fingers, then her tongue, and once you've had about two orgasms from just that, she sticks her strap inside you and gets another.

For aftercare, she'll ask you if you're feeling alright and lay with you after she cleans you up. Usually the both of you fall asleep afterwards, or take a bath or a shower before you do. Her brown eyes shine in the light while she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheeks while you lie together.

[mwoolf-art]

UNDER THE SAME ROOF

Kabru x Reader

Part 1

CW: NSFW/Soft Smut, MDNI

Notes: This started out as a ramble, sent it to a friend so I could get her opinions and this is technically the first fic I post anywhere that isn't a Discord server with my friends, so enjoy.

You two are friends, not really close at the beginning at least until you accidentally caught him stressing about something when he was alone and he thought nobody would see him unmasking and he was mortified when he saw you there and he would try really hard to both make you change your mind on that slip up he had and make sure you wouldn't go around talking about how you saw him losing it over him losing control over a situation he had planned out until you took him to a secluded place to talk things out and laugh about how silly it is for him to believe that you would think any less of him for catching him like that (not like it didn't make you feel more interested seeing more to him than just the perfectly nice pretty boy facade he puts up daily,) naturally he starts feeling more safe around you and you started to see more of him in your life.

And then you essentially had him move into your place with the intention of looking out for him after noticing his bad habits of not taking proper care of himself and it gradually made you worry about him and his own health, even if he tried to refuse at first but he gave in upon seeing how serious you were about it, you helped him move his own things and very verbally said "Damn, you live like this?" Upon seeing the disaster that is his place, he was definitely not staring daggers at you after hearing that.

From then on it's difficult for him to not be a part of your life and become acquainted with every single one of your friends or him taking you to hang out with his friends more frequently than before, and with the two of you naturally coexisting under the same roof also meant you arguing with him about his tendency to not pick up after himself and making sure he remembers to eat, while he scolds you over your bad sleeping patterns which ends with you laughing over how stupid the argument is because that's the reason you two are now roommates after all.

Just friends and roommates, nothing more, nothing less. With the two of you occasionally having silly little brawls that usually end with him pinning you down on the couch, but never go far from that and always end with the two of you just having a hearty laugh. (Not like Kabru has thought about just flat out taking you right then and there and make you writhe under him and memorize every single reaction you have over every little touch and tease.)

And the two of you will more often than not cuddle while watching movies or just enjoying a silent moment together. (Not like you have fantasized about having his mouth against yours and have his curls under your hands only to separate from the kiss and see him completely dazed and breathing heavily.)

Nope, absolutely nothing more than pure platonic friendship, there's nothing going on between the two of you.

Neither of you would get upset seeing someone else flirt with the other; Neither of you wanted to possessively get close to the other to keep that third person away from what you both thought was a simple good friend. You were just close friends who happened to know each other's weaker sides, darker thoughts and less appealing traits.

This was just another moment where the two of you were just jokingly wrestling each other after a small discussion over Kabru forgetting to have breakfast again and you not getting enough rest again, with the result being one of the occasions where you ended up being the one pinning him on the couch.

"Not fair, the back of my knee bumped against the couch." He complained while you laughed triumphantly on top of him.

"If it makes you feel better, you managed to drag me down with you... But I'm still the one on top and the victor!" You laughed again.

Which proved to be the wrong move since he now had entangled one of your legs with his and was firmly holding you against his chest,  "which still shows that without a slight disadvantage you would have lost, like always."

You writhed against him trying to free yourself from his tight snake like hold. "Hey! You sore loser let me go!" "You're not getting away without getting some rest first I can get something to eat later."

Yep, there was no getting away from this even if you tried to complain he would refuse to move unless you took a nap on top of him... not like you minded being this close to him and being held by him like this. The only thing to do was accept your defeat and close your eyes and before you knew it you were completely out with him following not long after.

The sun had already started to set when Kabru opened his eyes, your weight on top of him reminded him of what had transpired before he had fallen asleep, his eyes lazily traversing the structure of your sleeping face while one of the hands he was using to keep you in a tight embrace lifts up to gently caress the top your head.

It was much easier to have you like this while he did his best denying anything he may or may not feel for you, the person who took a single glance to his real self and didn't think any less of him, even if he thought it was funny how you thought he was being silly for trying to hide his more unpleasant side while you would obviously hold back your very own frustrated reactions. Like when you lost in a game against one of your friends, he could tell how much you wanted to stomp and roll around and cry tears of blood but you pretended to be happy for them winning, "sore loser" he chuckled to himself. Sure he was familiar with your reactions he still had a lot to figure out when it came to you in specific, which it's why he specifically memorized how you would act when you were genuinely upset or overwhelmingly happy, how you would kick your feet while reading your favorite books, how you would look like a scared deer when you were caught of guard, or how you would move around while deep in thought, or how you would look at him when he talked about a new person you had never even heard of.

He was in too deep when it came to you.

His mind kept going until it was abruptly stopped by soft noises and slight movement coming from you. Were you awake? No, you were still deep in slumber. He moved the leg he had tangled up against yours.

A soft moan.

His eyes widened as realization set in.

His leg was pressing against you...

More specifically his leg was pressing against your crotch and you were moving against it in your sleep. You were getting off on him in your sleep and he didn't know what to do, he could just let you continue and revel in the sweet noises you were making while occasionally moving his leg so you could get what your asleep self was seeking and take care of himself in the bathroom after waking you up. But he fears that would mean he was taking advantage of you in your sleep and it might lead to you breaking up your ties with him and not feeling safe around him.

He couldn't let that happen, he would hate himself for that. He had to wake you up and take the brunt of the embarrassment later.

"Hey," he shook you gently trying to wake you up, but your soft moans and whimpers continued to sound and dance in his ears while the friction of your body against his was making him start to get aroused.

"Hey, y/n wake up" he said a bit louder while still trying to get you to wake up. Your movements were starting to get a bit more erratic.

"Hey seriously, wake up!" your eyes slightly open fighting off sleep in a complete dazed with a blushed aroused face.

"Kabru...?"

Gods he wanted to have that face immortalized in his brain just to be able to recall it later for himself.

The flushed darkening look on his face was slow to register in your mind, why was he embarrassed? No, worried? You two were getting a lot closer just a moment ago...

The feeling of drowsy sleepiness slowly letting you go while your mind was starting to take in what was going on. He's worried about something... This is not a dream?

Your body finally came to a halt as you finally registered what was going on.

You were getting off to him in your sleep and having less than friendly dreams involving him and he was trying to wake you up.

Your face doesn't fail to show how mortified you were over the things your asleep self was doing just a moment ago becoming a raging red as you got off from him.

"Kabru-! I'm-"

You could not muster up the words you needed to apologize to him, what could you say to make up for this?

The only thing that you could do was to get up and run away to your room and try to hide from the embarrassment you were feeling in that moment.

This was it, the friendship you held so dear to your heart completely destroyed by your own stupid horny fantasies, while all Kabru could do was to lay on the couch and hide his face with his own hands trying to process everything that just happened and miss the weight of your body against his.

[ask-postcrash-curly]

Hello as always, dear. Kind Words.

I was just lost in thought over something that I wished to share with you. Perhaps it will lighten your mind a bit. Many of these voices seem to be growing more... audacious. Restless, in all too unpleasant a manner. I certainly haven't been very appreciative of it; the last thing you (or I...) need is more anxiety.

Regardless... do you remember how I've said I love birds? I do, I do. As you might recall, my son is named Kestrel - which are a subspecies of falcon! But truly it begins with my mother, whose name was Dove, when she named me for one of her favorite birds. Would you like to guess what kind? I'll give you a hint: It is a sweet little songbird with a yellow beak, gray wings, and sunset-red belly! They are known for their small and strikingly blue-colored eggs. (If you can guess correctly, you'll earn three Warbler points! Hahah!)

Anyhow, I've been reminiscing over a story my mom told to me when I was a child. We used to live where the night sky was quite dark, you see - perfect for the stars to really come out and shine. Well, she once said that the stars were actually the spirits of birds who had flown too high into the sky, and had gotten lost forever. And the sparkling of these birds' wings soon became a signal to remind all the other birds here on Earth not to fly too high. She liked to call them "starlings." (Yes, those are also real birds! They are quite beautiful.)

After she told me that, I wandered out into the yard that night and gazed up into the star-filled sky... and I began to just cry my little eyes out! "Oh, those poor lost birds! They must be so lonely up there!" I remember being an inconsolable mess for hours! My poor mom must have felt terrible about it, because she tried to reassure me that they weren't lonely at all; that the moon was their nest, and every morning before the sun came up they all flew back to it to sleep together during the daytime. I believe that is finally what soothed me enough to calm down, haha! It is quite a fond memory, despite how it may sound.

Mom passed a few years ago... but she always told me that when her time came, she would be reborn as a mourning dove and visit me again someday. I have been spending a lot of time outside waiting for her since. I'm sorry - perhaps that sounds a bit silly. It is a comforting thought more than anything, I think. I like to hope...

I've found myself thinking of that story a lot nowadays, though. More since she passed, and ever-more over the last few weeks. My precious starlings... I've entertained the thought that perhaps that is how we have been able to hear one another? That they are passing our thoughts from ground to sky and back, like divine carrier pigeons delivering prayers. I know that sounds like the nonsense ramblings of some sentimental old woman, and perhaps it is so! But until someone gives me a better answer, that is what I will believe! 🕊️

Hello again!

I've noticed that, yeah. Can't say I'm a fan of the vague ominousness either. Been doing a decent job of tuning it out, at least.

Yeah, yeah, I was wondering if that was what the name came from. Couldn't remember which bird it was though. Wow, three generations of bird names is sure something. Hmm. Would that be... Robin? That's a nice name. Suits you. (What are Warbler points??)

I've lived in places like that. You don't get those views anywhere else. They're peaceful. ...Lost bird spirits? Huh, that's a new one. Your mother sounds imaginative!

Aww, no... I don't blame you. That's a dark outlook if you think of it too hard, yeah? Sweet twist on it though. Imagine that. All those little starlings huddled together in the moon. Hah.

Oh, I— I'm so sorry for your loss. I can't imagine. No, no, don't be sorry. I don't think it's silly. We need these things to cling to, yeah? To— to feel we're not alone, somehow. And who knows? Maybe your mourning dove will turn up for you soon.

That's... a nice thought. Nicer than most of what I've come up with, anyways. Wish we'd heeded their warnings not to fly too far... Hah. Thank you for the story. It was nice, and I mean that. Hope you're doing okay down there. Take care of yourself, yeah?

[articskele]

LOOKS AT YOU WITH MY BIG EYES. HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME TO MY INCOHERENT RAMBLES ABOUT M SEER VOICELINES. I CANNOT BE STOPPED

Seer: How do I reload? Agh-

Ok this one is just silly ouo. BUT it's actually explained by this convo!!

Professional: Look, maybe you should let me give you some marksmanship lessons. Yknow, improve your aim.

Seer: I don't know, that feels like it'd be quite unsporting.

Professional: Yeah, that's the whole point. Never give a heretic an even break, yknow.

Seer: Well, if you suppose I should! The problem is, I'm not allowed a gun on the Mourningstar. Or sharp objects! ^^

THEY DO NOTTT TRUST THIS MAN

Bully: You bored yet, spark'ead?

Seer: Me? Oh, I almost never get bored! If I do, my Beloved tells me a joke.

Bully: I like jokes.

Seer: Oh you wouldn't like these. Truth be told he's not very funny. But that's not the worst part.

Bully: Yeah? What's that?

Seer: Almost everyone thinks he's being serious! He's such a scamp!

THE FONDNESS IN HIS VOICE EVERYTIME HE TALKS ABOUT HIS BELOVED GRGHRGHRHGHRGH <3

Seer: I always wanted to paint in oils! But I s'pose blood might do >:D

This is an F Seer line BUT I'M STILL INCLUDING IT BECAUSE. HELLO. THE MENTAL IMAGE OF REMY PAINTING IN BLOOD IS BEING BEAMETHED INTO MINE CONSCIOUSNESS AS WE SPEAK

Seer: I like medals! And trophies! Eyeballs, fingers, afterimages of Terra :)

AND THE EYEBALLS AND FINGERS THING. LET'S TALK ABOUT THE EYEBALLS AND FINGERS THING. BECAUSE BOTH APPEAR IN OTHER CONVERSATIONS

Loose Cannon: You really gimme the creeps, yknew that?

Seer: Oh, that is nice. I think? Is it meant to be nice?

Loose Cannon: I guess it's one of those "eye of the beholder" things.

Seer: I don't see why you had to bring *eyeballs* into this, I was being perfectly civil.

YOU CAN JUST HEAR HIM DRAMATICALLY LOOK AWAY WITH CROSSED ARMS AND A SLIGHT POUT IN THAT LAST LINE

Makes ya wonder how on earth eyeballs became associated with scolding in his mind?? Maybe some kind of recurring threat like "if ya act out of line I'll cut your eyes out."

There is a similar line from the Fanatic, saying "I could cut your throat, that'd hush the voices!" Then again how is slitting someone's throat supposed to stop them from hearing thi- Oh wait. Dead. Ok yeah that checks out-

Seer: I see a realm of maaadness and despair; skies weeping blood, ancient stars burning...

Bully: You alright, spark'ead?

Seer: I think so, although it's a little bit hard to tell because I can't feel my fingers.

Bully: That don't sound good...

Seer: Ohhh nevermind, they weren't my fingers at all. I was only imagining them.

Bully: Rrright...

OK FIRST OF ALL, THE WAY HE SAYS "I WAS ONLY IMAGINING THEM". SECONDLY WHAT DOES HE MEAN BY THAT. My first thought is that it's either his powers kicking in so that he's literally feeling the fingers (or lack thereof) of someone else, OR he's saying that his fingers aren't really his bc he's dreaming?

Fanatic: Ye smell that, kindred? There be heresy on the air!

Seer: Oh, I think that might be me, sorry! I haven't had time to wash the blood out of my clothes.

Fanatic: Och, stand away from me, man!

Seer: I feel safer here! ^^

HE'S SO SILLY I ADORE HIM. Also it's taking willpower to not put a :) or ^^ after everything he says bc YOU CAN JUST FEEL HIM SMILING AS HE TALKS AND I LOVE IT

[fumifooms]

oh, sorry for so many asks, i also wanted to say too though i really agree so much with your chilchuck thoughts so far, even down to your personal headcanons about how things might go post-series. and you're absolutely right, i'll defend that little guy any day myself. you understand him so well and it's kind of relaxing to have someone else dish out this kind of analysis and already agree with all of it cus it's just so real, so thank you again for the Meal <- perhaps the perfect thing to say about dungeon meshi analysis when i think about it

i know you have playlists and stuff so i wanted to share a song i've been listening to that that reminds me of him: divine loser by clem turner

No worries, they’ve been a lot of fun! I do plan on getting back to each one btw, just gotta get through some other things first hopefully. Aaaah that’s really nice to hear 🥺 I do know the feeling haha, it’s always fun to have posts that Get It that you just nod along with 🤝 I’ve thought sooo much about Chilchuck I rotate him in my brain like rotisserie chicken more often than not, glad it all ended up being productive haha. Y’know recently my friends have been calling me a Chilchuck superfan/scholar jokingly and it actually made me have a realization moment of…

Bc I’ve always said Laios was my fave and like, he does mean everything to me idk if I’ve ever felt so seen as with Laios, I relate to him sooo much, but then. Okay alright that can be a different thing than a character being your favorite fine FINE I admit it Chilchuck’s my top blorbo. He’s so.🧍‍♂️I can’t even describe. He’s so….. He’s a clown but he’s also perfection in its best imperfect form I will not be taking further questions today. My friend called him my silly rabbit like that one meme and it makes me laugh sm

Thank you for the music rec!! I listened to it and yes agreed, sent straight to my Chil playlist. Songs are my bread and butter when I have character brainrot bc like with web weavings I feel like there are so many emotions and thoughts you can communicate about something so simply through one… (Which for anyone interested here’s my web weaving tag, got 2 about Chil). Gonna link all my dunmeshi playlists while I’m here: Dungeon Meshi, Chilchuck & his wife, marchil, Mithrun.

Ok everyone saw this coming but this ask ran away from me and I ramble about some song lyrics I associate with Chil & different facets of his life below the cut. Some people find my, ehem, heated rambles about Chil entertaining, this is your cue to get out the popcorn.

When thinking about songs for Chil I have 3 angles I take: About Chilchuck, about him and his wife, or about him & Marcille. Marchil is so engraved into me with their arcs together, that they’re like the concept of closure and letting go and letting yourself live again to me, sorry for all the non-enjoyers… But his dynamic with Marcille is a large part of his character arc so still fits, rock on.

I think currently my top song for him is Jackrabbit by San Fermin, because it combines all three it makes me go wild. It’s about trepidation… Throwing yourself into it even despite the fear (working with traps, survival in poverty where you have to rush & hustle), or just staying there paralyzed(not reaching out to his wife). Flight or freeze!! Saying goodbyes and saying hellos!! Not dying alone!! The life cycle of a wild rabbit living and dying, the baton pass race of life from generation to generation!! Chil and his daughters even!!! Going through life at a frenzied pace!! It is so Chilchuck and so marchil, and the music does give that hurried and scared energy to me too, and sigh the Marcille side to it with fear of death too…

Extra fun context but the other day on the discord server we were talking about what animal each character’s fursona would be as we do and I thought of a rabbit for Chilchuck: Quick footed, ‘cowardly’, small and frail and seen as weak 🙃, athletic and slender, pulls stunts, stressed out, has very fine hearing and has good instincts, etc. And ofc that fits really well with Marcille since she’s kinda associated with dungeon rabbits hehe~ But I think while Marcille’s 100% the cute round rabbit Chil’s more like a brown hare, more wild and like, more like a jackalope if we’re still doing monsters... I do lowkey find it more fun than his associated monster being mimics because he’s crabby, because they’re clever (with where they place themselves) and because of how he has a soft shell but soft insides, lol.

OKAY so that’s my song pick with the main 3 facets sure, now I’ll share some lyrics for each 3 sides separatedly 😈 Kinda summarizing my web weavings for him thus far. If we start with Chilchuck by himself we have… Enter One by Shelby Merry and Drunk by The Living Tombstone

With his wife, we have the bad end, and the good end for if they get back together with Lost Kitten by Metric and North by Sleeping At Last… Okay okay plus Love Like Ghosts and My Heart is Buried in Venice… Little Soldier by The Crane Wives for them also RUIN me

And Marchil… Marchil oh my beloved. Another buddy also made a full analysis on discord about Soap by The Oh Hellos for them lol, but these are Not I by I Fight Dragons and My Heart is Buried in Venice again~

Okay okay two more. Boats & Birds by Gregory and The Hawk, and Tummy by Tamino.

Finishing it up with quotes from, in order, A Softer World by Joey Comeau, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Acknowledgements by Danez Smith, The Letter by Richard Paul Evans, and last but not least posts from dead tumblr account flintcoded. I keep looking around and finding MORE fitting quotes. Someone stop me- In loving me you hold a knife at my throat, in loving you I tell you exactly where to cut. Forgive me, memory is a rope around my neck. I need you to be happy, I need one of us to be happy.

Hand in unlovable hand…

In conclusion;

[m1xieup]

spoliers for Nevermore episode 80!!!!!! (Read at your own risk)

Ok so first of all…. So much happened. I for one am filled with immeasurable joy due to this episode (though I am still awaiting Duke to come back from the wall). We got some character development, Lenore standing up for herself/her friends and refusing to be a pawn in this game, we got some actual Will content outside of Montresor, and possibly some new characters! All of this is incredibly exciting to me! Now I must warn you that I am a Will enjoyer and this post is mainly about my thoughts/theories about him, though I will say the development for everyone was great and I’m so excited to see how they evolve. I will tell you that even though I predicted they may go to Will, I still didn’t think it would happen-he is a side character after all, no matter how much I enjoy him. It was so nice to see him just being his silly self outside of Montrashsor. He seems like a sweet kid caught up in the wrong crowd. However my main reason for posting this is to discuss where he may go in the future.

this conflict is going to change the dynamic of both groups immensely. Lenore’s group may be more cautious and reserved, but I think Annabel’s may fracture. Prospero is loyal to her, but Ada her other devotee is now dating Monty, and may be more loyal to him. Morella won’t want to stay with Annabels group when she learns what they did to Duke, so she’ll probably leave. Monty may start shit with Annabel and may make a power play especially if he passes this off as her plan, and claims he could do better (this is assuming Duke is rescued which I sincerely hope he is). Ada would most likely support him, so Annabel needs to be really careful with how she does things going forward.

Ok so what about Will? He doesn’t really have a choice as far as he’s concerned Lenore could and would murder him so he has to help her. This puts him in a difficult place, as he technically would have betrayed his team by helping to free Duke. So I have a couple ideas about how his arc (which I think he’ll get one! Which makes me very happy ) could go

He stays with Annabel’s group and possibly faces punishment or harm for betraying them (you can’t tell me Monty would not be incredibly pissed at him, and he is not above hurting people that care for him)

he joins Lenore’s group (this is a little unlikely as Idk if they would accept him in after what he did to Duke even if Eulalie and Berenice seem to have some sympathy for him, however it would be very fun and in my opinion Will deserves better friends so it would make me happy)

he goes on his own (idk if he could make it on his own but it’s a possibility)

he dies/gets killed/is eliminated (this sort of goes with the previous but I also wouldn’t put Monty above murdering him if he felt Will betrayed him) [this would make me sad and I hope it doesn’t happen, near death is fine though I can handle angst]

He could join up with another group all together (this is somewhat based on my theory that the 3 guys we saw in the background are going to be somewhat important going forward) basically my theory is that he could join up with three guys we see as a 3rd party or in conjunction with one of the others. ((I also just think it’d be both hilarious and in character for Will to find someone else to latch onto and lackey for))

all in all a fantastic update! I’m so excited to learn more about/get a Will character arc, and I’m excited to see how he grows (change for the better, I believe in you!) I’m sooooo interested to see how these new faces interact with the others and to learn more about them as well. I am eating up Lenore’s arc, and I am so excited to see how this shift in dynamic with Annabel changes things! These are my general thoughts and opinions/theories! I’d love to hear yours fellow fast-passers (or those that read this when it come out fully)! Thank you for sticking with my insane ramblings (I’m so normal about Nevermore I swear) and have a wonderful day/night!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

HAIIIII ARIII:33333 i am here with a silly little question hehehee which of your blorbos do you think would get along the best???? i immediately thought of suguru and laios honestly..... (also something something abt suguru eating curses and laios eating monsters something something) but i just really do think they'd really like each other!!!!!! sugu would listen to him ramble abt monsters with a faint little smile, his head resting on his palm:3333

but alsoooo would satoru like maomao and jinshi?? i think actually know them but i just.... have a feeling that he would!!! they all seem so cute and silly hehehehee

this question popped into my head when i thought abt putting toji and dazai in a room together btw😭😭 poor toji i think he would NOTTT like dazai at all😭😭😭😭😭 my kitty cats are fighting.... HEHEHEHE ANYWAYYY ILYYY I HOPE YOUR DAY IS GOING WELLL MY LOVE!!!!!! MWAHMWAH MWAHH!!!! - @teddybeartoji

HAI HAIIIIII MICKEY :3333 i’m picking you up and spinning you around btw <3333333 WHAT A FUN QUESTION AAAAA ……

OK BUT . LAIOS/SUGU IS SO BIGBRAINED. I AGREE SO MUCH. you reminded me of this one fanart owwllly made of them lmao ….. i treasure it soooooo dearly laios is so silly . I REALLY DO THINK THEY’D GET ALONG. they’re both sweeties :((( and sugu is such a good listener…….. laios would probably find him really dependable too. AND. HEAR ME OUT….. i just really really feel like laios would try to eat one of suguru’s curses 💀 and i think that would unironically bring them closer together. idk i’m just always thinking about suguru and how alone he felt simply become no one else could comprehend how awful they taste…. only for mr golden retriever himbo man to walk into his life and WILLINGLY eat them. sniffle. they could be so wholesome :(((((((

AND THEN . SATORU AND JINMAO 🥺🥺🥺 wahhhhh what a cute crossover….. HERE’S THE THING. i do Not think jinshi would like his ass ‼️‼️ maybe gojo would find him cute in an older brother kinda way . but they’re just. so similar. jinshi is basically just cult leader geto and teen toru mashed together. i think gojo would piss him off so much 😭 BUT MAOMAO….. well. she would definitely find gojo annoying too!!! but i think he’d like her soooo much :3 that’s his daughter actually. he’d just find her funny. two little meowmeows <3333

….. then we have toji and dazai 😭😭😭 PJDPDJDKDJDJ. MICKEY I CRIEDDDD THEY WOULD BE SO FUCKING FUNNY….. i remember seeing a tiktok once where . a guy did a filter thing that gave him four different characters to go to therapy with . he got toji + dazai + two other sickos and someone commented ”you know it’s bad when toji is the most mentally stable person in the room” 💀💀💀 I JUST THINK IT’S SO FUNNY…. toji would be so weirded out by him lmao . BUTTT in my heart and soul dazai is a dilfhunter so ik he’d try to seduce toji <3333 would he succeed? no . but i respect the attempt!!!!!! i think they could learn to get along…. for you…….. (the good ending would be toji realizing dazai reminds him of you and being like 😐😐😐 i guess i HAVE to tolerate you.)

BUT . to actually . answer your question……… one blorbo crossover pairing i’ve been thinking of a lot lately is :333 satoru . and kazui (from milgram)……. every time i say that kissing a dilf could fix gojo i’m talking about Him btw. they’re just. so similar!!! the big difference is their confidence i think…. ik you aren’t aquainted w this blorbo but. kazui is just… a very tired very guilty liar of a man. constantly putting up a front. has a very low opinion of himself but is actually very kind….. :((((((( i love him so much. and i think gojo and him would see through each other’s respective masks, you know?? in that sense maybe kazui would be a little freaked out but . i think they could find some comfort in it too!!! i just really need them to be friends…..

ANYWAYYYYY tysm for the lovely question my lovely mickey <33333 I LOVE YOUUUU i hope you’re having a nice day……. i hope you’re watching lots of movies and enjoying your free time…… me and dazai and toji r covering you in kisses mwah mwah mwahhhh <33333

[nightmares-and-stars]

I've been wanting to make my first official ramble on here something cute and silly since I like to try and find the positives, but these past few days have been rough mentally for me.

Fortunately though I came across something today that was more fun to share!!

When I first found a community to comfortably be myself in (I'm only out as f/o in certain online spaces) and being a bit of a non-sharer I was worried to find dupes in these spaces. Now I know sometimes the topic of dupes, and non-sharers comes up somewhat often and I wanted to say that while I'm non-sharing myself, generally as confusing as it may sound (I'm newly non-sharing so I'm still figuring things out) I dont really mind if someone else who selfships with Fade is on my page....but like as long as I'm not aware of it? I will never ever be openly rude when I see a double, I've just had a situation in the past, where I did come across a double and it really messed up my mental state for a long while. So generally I just quietly block any doubles I come across and move on, no hate! I just block for my own sanity haha.

Anyways! I diverted from my original ramble (as I'll tend to do here quite often 😅) I had thought, that Valorant is a pretty popular game, so going into ficto/selfship spaces, I thought I may come across an occasional double, or at least see others with f/os from Valorant, but to my suprise I almost never do!

It's rare in general for anyone to mention if they know Fade or the game shes from and it's a bit surprising! not that I dont mind, but it's actually been really nice whenever I make a post or a comment gushing about her, and someone knows who I'm talking about.

Like "hey! Fade! Nice!"

and all my silly little brain thinks is "oh! yes! you know her! yes! she is nice! I'm so glad you perceive my wonderful girlfriend!!"

idk its just a bit silly but I love hearing other people who know who Fade is! I have to stop myself every time from ramble EVEN MORE than I already do because like "wow! you know her! so do you wanna go on a deep dive into all her lore so you can learn more about why I love her so much?!!"

anyways yippee! first ramble! they will likely always be this long haha I get carried away, and cannot info dump onto my therapist anymore so all my thoughts will remain here for now!

perhaps one day I'll just post a deep dive/gush on Fade just to get it out haha <3

[luvyanfei]

WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON HIS SHOULDER 

ft. xiao, albedo, diluc, kaeya, scaramouche, childe, zhongli & venti non-requested piece

XIAO doesn’t know how to react when he feels a heavy weight on top of his shoulder and finds your head leaned against him comfortably, your eyes closed. his fingers reach out to push you off of him, but he decides against it at the last minute. it would be rather indecent of him to disturb your sleep, and now that you’re unconscious, he’s able to study your face up close without needing to concern himself about getting caught. “how silly.” he murmurs to no one in particular. “to think that someone like you is capable of breaking down my walls. i thought i discarded human emotions long ago, but is it really alright for me to love you?” why is he confessing all this aloud, who knows. XIAO leans in close to your face till his lips are barely touching yours. he stays like that for quite some time before he reluctantly pulls back. mortified of himself, he turns around slightly to stare at the leaves soaring in the light breeze, but he fails to notice the slight blush on your face as you struggle to keep your eyes closed. perhaps once you ‘wake up’, you’ll surprise him with an innocuous kiss to finish what he’s started. 

ALBEDO glances up from the sketching he’s occupied his time in perfecting, and accidentally moves too quickly that he stirs you awake. you groan in exasperation, rubbing at your eyes before you gasp at what you’ve just done. sheepishly, you mumble out an apology for bothering him, but your wrist is ensnared in his firm grip and he gently guides your head back to rest on his shoulder. he strokes your flushed cheeks with his cool fingers and kisses you chastely on the forehead. “it’s okay. take a little break if you need to. i’ll be here when you wake up.” 

DILUC ends up sighing without a second thought and turns away from your sleeping form sheepishly as he blushes uncontrollably. his heart is pulsating loudly against his ribcage and he’s having trouble thinking coherently due to the very close proximity shared between you two. are you even comfortable sleeping on his shoulder? his posture is pretty rigid so it probably feels like lying on a boulder. ever so slowly, he lifts you up in his arms to tuck you into bed, but freezes once he hears a tired yawn. “sorry. am i disturbing you? you fell asleep, so i’m just taking you to your room.” you shake your head and give him a closed-mouth smile, encouraging him to move forward. he brings you down on the mattress and covers you with the warmth of the blanket. “good night, my love.” 

KAEYA can’t help but smirk to himself. really, you’re too trusting for falling asleep on his shoulder so casually like this. aren’t you even just a little bit suspicious of him? well, your innocence is what infatuated him to you in the first place. he gives you a light pat on the back and chuckles softly. “i hope you’re not like this with anyone else,” he mutters, watching an eye out in case any opponents are lurking around. despite being a cryo wielder, his hands feel rather warm as he cups your delicate fingers with his. it feels nice, not having anything to worry about if you’re trapped in pleasant dreams. as cruel as reality is, KAEYA is glad that you’re here to sweeten up his lonely days. 

SCARAMOUCHE scowls and pushes you off of him roughly. what is he, a pillow? startled, you have to balance yourself before you topple to the ground. glaring at the harbinger, you instead lean your head against the shoulder of the person that is closest to you and dozes off, in front of him no less. unknown to you, this immediately sets off his jealousy and the poor guy, who he immediately recognizes as tartaglia, gives him a confused look but smiles slyly nonetheless. with a click of his tongue, SCARAMOUCHE yanks you off of childe’s shoulder, awakening you once more, much to your chagrin, and pulls you to his side. “if you’re going to sleep on someone’s shoulder, i’d rather it be mine’s.” 

CHILDE has to verbally restrain himself from squealing at the top of his lungs at how cute you look. his heartbeat speeds up like a rushing river as he ushers for teucer to quietly fetch him a blanket. he then wraps the comforter around your body to keep you snug in the cold of snezhnaya. he’s well aware of how exhausting it may be to travel around teyvat in order to find out the hidden truth this world has to offer. you’ve been through so much, it’s the least that CHILDE can do to stay by your side as you rest up. he links his pinky with yours and a flicker of hope brings life to his cerulean eyes. “no matter what choice you make, i pinky promise i won’t leave you, not until we reach the end.” 

ZHONGLI doesn’t even notice that you’re dozing off, being too fixated on his nonstop rambling to feel the weight on his shoulder. it’s only after he’s done talking does he let out a tiny sigh and loops a hand around your arm. unconsciously, you nuzzle further into his chest and relaxes in his gentle touch. with the sun basking down on his face and the calming atmosphere that lingers in the air, ZHONGLI finds himself overcome with fatigue. he ends up closing his eyes shut and leans against you as both of you drift into a state of quiet tranquility, side by side. 

VENTI brushes away a strand of your hair with an index finger so he can view your peaceful visage in full. your chest rises and falls with every breath you take in and exhale, leaving him to hope it will never stop. he takes off his cape and hat for you to wear since the wind isn’t exactly friendly right now. okay, fine. he actually just wanted to know what it’s like for you to wear his clothing on, and he doesn’t regret doing it one bit. it’s tempting for him to snap a picture of you, but watching you is good enough, he supposes. VENTI will just have to store this memory to heart like all the others he has of you. 

[granolabird]

The Eye Of The Beholder

Another episode of Stargirl another weekly Hournite fic from me. It really is my favourite thing to try and challenge myself to fill in the gaps in canon the best I can with these silly little works, so I’m happy that everyone else likes them just as much. This is post 3x02, where Rick and Beth are still in the Pit Stop loft dealing with Rick’s guilt as he feels like he can’t do much for the team anymore. Just the usual hurt/comfort we all know and love.

Warnings: None

.

They’ve been sitting in the Pit Stop for a few hours now, ignoring the late hour in favour of each other’s company. Rick still isn’t sure why Beth is so determined to sit with him while he works on perfecting the hourglass, she’s probably got a million other better things to do, yet she always insists on coming along and keeping him company. It’s not that he minds, much the opposite really, but sometimes it’s hard to focus on the task at hand when the girl you just happen to have a massive crush on is sitting right across from you. Rick would never explain this to Beth of course, he’d much rather bury himself with Grundy than admit his feelings, but that’s besides the point. 

The point is, Rick really needs to fix his hourglass, and nothing seems to be working. He’s tried seemingly endless equations, chemical mixes, and everything in between to no avail. He could barely focus at all today, and honestly he’s on the verge of just giving up. It doesn’t really help that The Shade just decided to show up, add to Rick’s general stress, and then just… leave. Now he and Beth are left alone pondering what in the world The Shade could be up to, and wondering what they’re supposed to do about Grundy. It would’ve been nice of the Shade to stick around and elaborate more on where he’s going, or any other options on what to do with Grundy, or really help with anything regarding the situation at hand, but Rick knows that’s not The Shade’s style. He’s nothing if not cryptic, but at least he’s staying true to his brand. 

Beth is talking to Rick now, saying something about the green sparks that showed up when The Shade disappeared, and Rick really does want to listen but he can’t focus on her words. There are too many thoughts racing through his mind, too much to worry about, and Rick starts to feel the tight coil of anxiety wrap its way around his lungs. He’s no stranger to panic attacks but he’s generally adverse to having them around his friends, especially Beth. In an attempt to prevent the inevitable, Rick wills himself to take deep breaths as he holds a small bag of sand, pretending as if he’s doing important. Unfortunately Beth, ever the observant, sees right through him. 

“Rick? Are you okay?” She asks, leaning across the table with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He grumbles, pinching some sand between his fingers as if that could possibly do anything. Beth squints at him, clearly not convinced.

“Usually when you say that, you’re not fine.”

Rick internally curses himself for letting Beth get to know him so well. 

“I’m just stressed. That’s all.”

“About what? You can talk to me, you know. It’s a two way thing. That whole ‘you can talk to me, pretend I’m Chuck’ speech applies to you just as much as it does me. I mean, don’t pretend that I’m Chuck, you didn’t really know him, but pretend I’m someone you can talk to. If you want.” 

Rick can see in Beth’s face that she knows she’s rambling, but she also knows that Rick doesn’t mind her rambling. It’s one of his favourite things about her really, he doesn’t know if he could ever get tired of hearing Beth talking to him.

“You already are someone I can talk to Beth, It’s alright. It’s just a lot all at once for me. I guess I’m kind of getting overwhelmed.” Rick admits, and Beth nods along encouragingly.

“You’re not alone Rick, I know what you’re feeling. When my parents were getting divorced, and Chuck was broken, I felt completely and utterly-”

“Powerless.” They say it at the exact same time, making Rick look up in surprise. It had been a spur of the moment thing for him to say, he really hadn’t been expecting Beth to say the same thing. 

“Exactly.” Beth says, smiling softly. “There’s so much going on out of your control, it just feels like you can’t do anything. It feels like the world is against you, right?”

Rick laughs at that, “I'm pretty sure the world is against me all things considered, but yeah. That’s how it feels.” He admits with a sigh.

“Rick, the world isn’t against you it’s just… testing you. Kelly Clarkson, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” Beth offers, and Rick shoots her a quizzical look.

“Beth, did you seriously just quote Kelly Clarkson to me?”

“Listen, I’m not the best at motivational speeches okay! That’s just what my dad used to tell me whenever I was sad, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“I get the sentiment, don’t worry. I know things will get better eventually. I just really need them to get better sooner rather than later, you know? I feel like I’m useless on the team right now. I can’t control the hourglass, I can’t bring Grundy back. It’s starting to feel like I can’t do anything right. But if I don’t do things right soon, then other people are going to get hurt. I’m stuck in this endless loop of trying to do so much, and then having to start over again because nothing turns out. I don’t know what to do anymore.” Rick explains, resting his head on his arms as he looks up defeatedly at Beth.

“What you need to do is slow down Rick. You’re putting too much on yourself, and that doesn’t help anyone. When was the last time you took a break to just relax and not worry about the hourglass, or Grundy, or anything JSA related?” Beth asks him, and Rick takes a moment to think about the question.

“I haven’t. I don’t even think I have the time to take a break, especially not now with a murderer on the loose. If whoever the killer is comes back and I can’t do anything to help then what?” “If the killer shows up and you’ve keeled over in the loft because you’ve worked yourself to death, then what?” Beth counters, giving him a knowing look.

“I guess you’re right.” Rick laments, burying his head a little further into his crossed arms. “But I don’t even know what to do with my free time anymore. I always feel like I’m slacking off if I’m not working on something.” “Well, why don’t we work on something then?” Beth asks with a bright look in her eyes that tells Rick she’s had some brilliant idea. “What?” He asks, slowly sitting up. “I’m supposed to be working on filling out my sketchbook for art class. Care to help?”

“I can’t draw Beth, you know that.”

“It doesn’t matter! Here, look at this.” Beth stands with her sketchbook in hand and moves around the table to sit beside Rick. She flips open her book to a page that vaguely resembles a human face drawn in ink, but the lines are disconnected and wobbly.

“I drew this with a marble.” Beth announces proudly, tapping on the page,

“You drew this… with a marble?” Rick repeats, making sure he heard her correctly.

“Well, painted is probably a better term, but yeah! It was an assignment for class.”

“Oh! Well it’s very, uh, abstract.” Rick offers, and Beth elbows him lightly.

“If you think it’s bad you can just say it, it’s okay I know it’s not the best.”

“Better than I could do with a marble.” Rick huffs, gesturing to the drawing vaguely.

“Yeah, but not better than you could draw with a pencil!” Beth exclaims, grabbing a pencil and waving it at Rick. Rick sighs, and lets her hand him the pencil.

“I guess you’re right.” He admits, and Beth smiles at him smugly, knowing she’s managed to prove her point. 

“So? Do you wanna help or not?”

“Is this technically cheating? This is supposed to be your sketchbook.”

“Rick, stop making excuses and just draw.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll draw.”

They work for a while, chatting idly, and slowly Rick begins to feel the tense feeling that had resided in him for so long begin to fade. The crushing feeling of anxiety that had a vice grip around him dulls into obscurity as he doodles along his page of the book. Beth is drawing on the subsequent page so she’s pressed right beside him, their elbows knocking every once and a while as they draw. They both apologise to each other profusely every time it happens. Rick tries his best not to look over at Beth’s page, but the glimpses he gets make him feel a little self conscious about his art. He was serious, he really can’t draw. The picture he’s drawn on the page looks akin to chicken scratch, but at least it’s something to keep his mind occupied. He tries his best to hide his work regardless, not wanting Beth to see his lacklustre work in progress, even if she’s going to see it later. 

Finally, after what feels like hours of trying desperately to figure out the art of making a pencil actually make things look legible, Beth leans back from her page.

“I’m done.” She announces.

Rick is starting to feel the vague sense of anxiety creeping back through his veins as he glances between Beth and her page.

“You’re done?” 

“Yeah! You wanna see? We can compare drawings if you’re ready.”

“Oh, I dunno. I’m not sure mine’s done yet.” Rick says, trying his best to nonchalantly block his page with his arm. Beth grins at him anyway, attempting to halfheartedly shoo his arm away.

“Well my art teacher always says you should stop before you think you’re finished. That way you don’t overdo the details!”

Rick relents with a sigh and lifts his arm, allowing Beth to pick up the book, grimacing as he waits for Beth’s criticism. 

Instead the criticism never comes. Beth just seems to stare at the book wordlessly, deep in thought, taking in every detail on the page. Finally, she places the book on the table, and Rick gets a good look at her drawing beside his. Beth’s sketch is of the JSA, it’s rough, but still clearly all their friends put together in quick but precise pencil strokes. There’s little smiley faces and hearts drawn around the page, and Rick can’t help but smile at the work. “See, that’s a lot better than mine.” Rick says, tapping at the page with the eraser of his pencil.

“It is not! Your drawing is great!” Beth taps the page back, causing a mini sword fight between their pencils.

“Don’t lie to me Beth, it’s not good.”

“No, it’s not the best, but it’s still not bad. Especially seeing as you don’t draw much! And the meaning is clear. It’s like they say; beauty is in the eye of the beholder!

Rick really isn’t sure who the aforementioned they are, but he takes the time to stare at his page, trying his best to see what Beth sees. His drawing was an attempt at the spot where he used to sit in the woods whenever he needed a break from Matt. The bag of apples is there, but there’s also a poor attempt at blood, or maybe water, he isn’t sure, puddling around the bag. The trees look more like toothpicks and the apples like miscellaneous orbs of fruit, and the more he looks at it the harder it is for him to see what Beth is seeing in his art.

“Beth, it’s terrible.”

“It isn’t! I think it’s a beautiful piece on grief and loneliness. It’s what you’re feeling right now, put onto paper.” Beth explains as if it’s clear as day. 

She’s right, but Rick doesn’t know how she got any of that from what he put on the page.

“I guess you’re right. It kinda is.”

Beth nods to herself approvingly, before turning to Rick and leaning a little closer.

“Well?”

“Well what?” He asks, trying not to get flustered by her close proximity.

“Well, do you feel better? Did this help make you any less stressed?”

Rick leans back in his chair for a moment, and takes a deep breath. He does feel better. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of him. It’s not gone entirely, not even close, but he still feels a hell of a lot better. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel better. Thanks Beth.” A grin lights up Beth's face, and Rick feels his heart flutter as she links her arm with his and rests her head on his shoulder, smiling up at him. He knows it’s just her way of being friendly, a little gesture to say I told you so! But to Rick it feels like so much more. 

“I told you it would.” She laughs, and Rick lets himself laugh with her. 

“You really know me too well Beth. It’s getting a little scary.” Rick huffs in feigned annoyance, which just makes Beth laugh more. 

She still hasn’t taken her head off Rick’s shoulder, and he takes it as an opportunity to lay his head atop hers. It’s a bold move, he knows, but she doesn't seem to mind. So they sit there like that for a while, and talk about everything and nothing, and anything else in between. It’s nice, it’s peaceful, and for the first time in a long time Rick doesn’t feel stressed about what he has to do next. There are no thoughts of the hourglass, or Grundy, or Matt, just him and Beth alone in their own little world, and as they sit there in the darkening night, Rick thinks to himself that maybe he could get used to this.

[cherienymphe]

Lies Untold (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, jealous!Sherlock 

!!! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !!!

➥ {page breaks done by @firefly-graphics​ }

summary: Sherlock Holmes is the love of your life, and convinced that you will never get your happily ever after with him, you make a decision that does more harm than good

~

Your morning started like every other. You were briefly woken up by the feel of your husband’s lips on your face, his smooth voice greeting you before moving onto your daughter in her crib. You drifted back to sleep just as he shut the door, making his way downstairs to open up the inn for the day. When you woke up for the final time, it felt like hours later, but in reality, it could have only been minutes.

You breastfed your daughter almost immediately after you woke up, the two of you somehow always waking up together. You went downstairs for breakfast as soon as she was fast asleep again, greeting your husband with a kiss as you met in the kitchen. The day went by slow, the last guest leaving the inn sometime in the early evening. It was late in the night, almost time for you to retire when the bell above the door rang.

A guest had arrived.

Your husband was on the third floor where you all resided, tending to your daughter no doubt while you manned the first floor. You were fooling with something behind the counter, head bent down as their heavy steps reached your ears.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” you told them.

They did not reply, but you knew they heard you. You rose, straightening your dress as you lifted your eyes to greet the only guest for the night. As soon as your eyes met a familiar blue, you froze, feeling as if you had been struck by lightning.

He looked the same as ever. Perhaps even more handsome now, and you cursed yourself for thinking such a thought when your husband was just upstairs. He looked just as stunned to see you, reaching up to adjust his dark suit as he cleared his throat. His hair was a bit longer since the last time you saw him, an errant curl hanging onto his forehead, and you suddenly realized that you had been holding your breath.

“Mr. Holmes,” you breathed, chest burning a bit from the lack of oxygen. “Just you?”

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a scoff, lips quirking upwards.

“Mr. Holmes?”

You swallowed, uncomfortably shifting on your feet. He stepped up to the counter, that teasing smile on his pink lips, one you did not return.

“A little formal for old friends, is it not?”

Your shoulders sagged as you released a small sigh.

“No, you…you are right. It’s just been a while since I’ve last seen you,” you told him. “I was caught off guard.”

It was the truth. Honestly, you had hoped to never see Sherlock again. Not if you could help it.

“So, you run an inn now…”

You briefly glanced at him as you searched for a key, nodding.

“I do.”

“I had not realized. The name…it was unfamiliar to me,” he said.

Your hand tightened around the key, and you avoided his eye, heart beating wildly in your chest.

“It’s my husband’s name,” you murmured.

You swore that you could hear his breath hitch, and it seemed to get unbelievably quiet. Against your better judgement, you looked to him, finding his blue eyes just a tad darker. His face always looked pinched, like he was constantly overthinking, but this was more than that. He looked positively floored. Were you the first person to have thrown the great Sherlock Holmes for a loop? Had circumstances been different, you would have felt proud.

Before either of you could say anything else, your husband’s footsteps on the stairs reached your ears. You turned to him with a strained smile just as he neared, and he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Mr. Holmes,” your husband greeted jovially. “What a pleasure! Will it be just you then?”

“Indeed,” the dark-haired man hummed, and although you were no longer looking at him, you could feel his eyes on you.

“The last guest checked out hours ago, so the whole inn will be nice and quiet for whatever work you need to do. That is, provided our daughter sleeps through the night,” he jested.

Your eyes widened, having had no intentions of mentioning that to your guest…ever. You did not dare look at him and overwhelmed with the emotions that seeing him brought on, you clutched your stomach, feigning sick as you stepped back.

“I’ve grown a bit weary. I think I will call it a night,” you told your husband.

His face twisted with concern, and you felt a tad guilty, but your uneasiness from Sherlock’s hard stare was more pressing. Your husband, the sweetheart that he was, placed a hand on your back as he ushered you towards the stairs.

“Of course, dear. You only had the baby months ago, you should not be up on your feet so much, anyway,” he quietly told you, sending you off with a kiss on the cheek.

You slowly took the stairs, hearing him continue his conversation with the man you had hoped to never see again. Your legs shook with every step, and the more you blinked, the faster the tears collected in your eyes. Despite the fact that your husband had yet to cease his rambling, you could still feel Sherlock’s gaze on your back as hot as it always was. As it always had been.

Relief did not find you even all the way up on the third floor. You pressed your back to the door as soon as you made it to your bedroom, and you swallowed hard, fighting to hold in a scream. You had forced yourself to make peace with the everything, with your own decisions. You never thought that you would be able to, but you did, and right when you seemed to be okay, the man who had caused it all slithered back into your life, his presence mocking you.

A soft gurgle from the crib reached your ears, and you pushed yourself away from the door, reminding yourself that it was not just you anymore. Her face was twisted in discomfort, features only smoothing out when you took her into your arms. The mattress creaked under your weight as you sat down, making yourself comfortable with your back to the headboard. Your knees were bent, your daughter resting against your legs as you both stared at one another. Her tiny hand wrapped around your finger, and your heart clenched as you stared into her eyes, a familiar shade of blue staring back at you.

You avoided leaving your room as much as you could. Your husband was the one who mostly dealt with the inn anyway, but you had enjoyed greeting and interacting with the guests. Until recently. Oddly enough, Sherlock was your only guest for the next two days, and you wondered if you were cursed. There were no other guests to tend to, no other guests to distract you, and you could not feign ill forever. You regularly interacted with the guests, and your husband would start to find your behavior odd.

You had genuinely thought you’d never see the famous detective again. You had fought to marry someone as far away from your hometown as you possibly could, determined to distance yourself as much as you could from the place you had both grown up in. Not only to avoid ever seeing him again, but also because it was far too painful. How funny it was to think that if you had stayed, you probably would have achieved what you set out to do.

It was the third day since he had checked into the inn, and unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning, you opted for getting an early start on breakfast. Your husband and daughter were still fast asleep, and perhaps you could be done before your only guest arose. You had no idea what case he was in town for. You had made it a habit to avoid the papers, and perhaps that was why you had been blindsided by his sudden appearance.

You had only been in the kitchen for a matter of minutes when the subject of your thoughts joined you.

You paused in what you were doing, not expecting him while he, on the other hand, seemed to have been waiting up for you. He was dressed as nicely as always, and that pensive look that he always seemed to sport was replaced by a troubled one. You watched as his hand flexed, and you were reminded how they had felt on you once. Forcing those thoughts from your mind, you gathered yourself.

“Mr. Holmes,” you greeted. “Breakfast will be a while.”

You both knew that he had not come down for food, but you turned away from him anyway to continue your work. It was quiet for a while as he stood there, watching you work. He was making you nervous, like always, and it was only when you realized that you were making no progress did he finally speak.

“You are married now.”

You paused, swallowing with a heavy chest. It was not a question. Not even really a statement, but more like an accusation. With a heavy sigh, you turned your head, barely looking over your shoulder at him as you rested your hands on the table.

“Did you think I was going to wait for you forever?”

You were met with silence, and you shook your head.

“You knew how I felt about you,” you said, kneading the dough. “How I felt since we were mere children. A woman does not have the luxury of keeping her options open. Decisions had to be made.”

You heard him step closer, and you visibly winced, shoulders tensing up.

“Do you love him?”

You frowned, spinning around to face him, chest clenching as your insides twisted.

“What kind of question is that?”

“One you have yet to answer,” he murmured, taking another step towards you.

You scoffed.

“My husband is kind and selfless and he is positively crazy about me. I would be silly not to love him,” you replied.

The blue-eyed man before you threw you a crooked smile, but it lacked humor.

“You still did not answer the question.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked away.

“What does it matter to you?”

“He says the two of you have been married for a year. The last time I saw you was a little over a year ago... How quickly you-.”

“You do not get to do that, Sherlock Holmes,” you snapped, fighting to keep your voice low.

You cursed yourself for the way your voice cracked, and you frantically blinked away tears. You stumbled back when he took another step towards you, bumping into the table in the process.

“I did nothing but wait around for you for years while you ran off solving case after case and made a name for yourself. I never faulted you for that…just myself for being so incredibly stupid…”

Your eyes met his again, surprised to see anger in them because you could not remember a time the man had ever been angry. It was alright with you though. You were angry too.

“I never once hid my feelings for you…and it got to a point where I could no longer wait for you to do something about it. Something legitimate anyway,” you quietly added.

Having grown up with the man, it was hard not to fall for his intellect, his looks. He was always polite to you, and you always looked at him like he hung the moon. You were not the only one though. You knew that you were one of the many. Your feelings for him had never been a secret, and his lack of reciprocity led you to believe that your love for the man would always be unrequited just like all the other girls. Until it wasn’t.

You could never pinpoint when it had happened, but he had kissed you one day, and it seemed that he could never bring himself to stop kissing you. Until of course, he had to leave again, leaving you behind to wait for his return…whenever that would be. For years this spanned. Spending days, weeks at the most, with him, wrapped up in each other both figuratively and literally until his profession pulled him away from you again and again. It broke your heart every time, but you told yourself that it would not be for naught. You told yourself that he just needed time.

You constantly told yourself that until the day you were out of time.

“Does he know?”

Some of the hardness in his eyes had seeped away, giving way to a fire that you knew all too well. With the table at the back of your legs, you realized that you had nowhere to go as he neared you. The man was always so big, and while you had appreciated that once, it only worried you now. He continued when you refused to respond.

“Does he know that you were mine before he even laid eyes on you?”

Your frown deepened, hating the way he talked about you, but you could not deny the way his words spoke to a part of you that you had tried so hard to bury.

“Does he know that you will always bear the mark of my touch? That your body will always remember the first who played it so well?”

“Stop,” you choked out. “You…you cannot do this.”

It was painful to hear him talk about how he had been your first. How you had given yourself to him wholeheartedly, sure that you would never regret it.

“Why not? Why can I not remind you that you are mine? That you will always be mine?”

He sounded pained, a first for him, and you realized that deep down past the possession and anger…Sherlock was hurt. Maybe all he really needed was time, but life had happened, and you had been forced to make decisions that you did not necessarily care for. Straightening yourself, you stared into his eyes, finding the reflection of you in them.

“…because I am not yours. Not anymore.”

You brushed past him before he could respond, determined to wipe your face and gather yourself before your husband woke up.

Another day passed, and then another, and Sherlock was still here. You had a sneaking suspicion that he was hanging around for more than just another case to solve. Your husband, none the wiser, was more than happy to entertain the renowned detective for as long as he needed. You, on the other hand, felt like you had died and gone straight to hell.

Sherlock’s presence brought up memories you would rather forget. His very face forced you to remember the decisions you had made to avoid a life of ruin, forced you to remember the lie you were currently living. You found yourself crying yourself to sleep now as much as you did in the beginning, and for that, you hated him. You just wanted him to leave and pray that you would never see him again.

The universe or God or whatever higher power controlled the puppet strings to your life had other plans.

It was late in the night when your daughter woke up out of her sleep. Your husband groaned next to you, but you whispered to him that you would deal with it. She did not seem to be hungry, so you took to walking throughout the inn to calm her. She liked that. You strolled up and down the stairs, through the entrance hall, the kitchen, any crevice of the building until she fell into a quiet hush, staring up at you as you hummed.

You were in the sitting room, swaying from side to side, hoping to rock her back to sleep. You loved her dearly, more than you loved yourself, but you loved your sleep almost as much. You cracked a small smile, watching as she ran her eyes over you before something behind you caught her attention. You felt him before you heard him, and you spun around to face the last person you wished to see.

His white shirt was rumpled, and you figured that he had inadvertently fallen asleep at some point. Your wide eyes were on him as he stood before you in all of his glory, and you absentmindedly tightened your hold on your daughter. Neither one of you said a word. You had nothing to say, but there did seem to be something weighing on his mind, although for some reason, he would not voice it. You found yourself eyeing the curls of his hair, his fair complexion and handsome bone structure. The top of his shirt was undone, a sliver of skin winking at you, and you sharply inhaled.

You were still very much in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Would you ever truly be free of him?

As your daughter squirmed in your arms, you were reminded that no, you would not. The man could leave tomorrow, and you could truly get your wish of never seeing him again, and you would still never be free. Her movements grabbed his attention, and as his eyes fell to the baby in your arms, you hated the way he looked at her.

As if he was studying her like one of his cases that needed to be solved.

However, with horror, you realized that he was studying her. You tried to shield her, backing away in the process, but he followed you. His dark brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he ran them over your daughter. When you passed through the moonlight, the glow catching her eyes, his face hardened, jaw ticking so violently you worried that he would break a tooth.

His eyes snapped to yours, and you could not even find it in yourself to look away. You were frozen. His lips parted, and you feared what he would say, but the sound of your husband’s steps descending the stairs saved you. In only a moment, Sherlock was on the other side of the room, and your husband was there, apologizing to the man if your daughter woke him up.

“Nonsense. I was already awake,” Sherlock told him, and you had a feeling that it was not a lie.

Still, your husband, the kind man that he was, continued to apologize, and you took the opportunity to escape. You could feel Sherlock’s gaze the entire time, fiery and oppressive, and it should not have come as a shock to wake up to him in your bedroom.

Yet somehow, it was.

You should have known something was off when you woke up feeling more well rested than you had in months. The familiar cry of your daughter, a noise that regularly roused you from sleep, was oddly absent. This was what made you realize why you had slept for so long. Upon realizing this, your body immediately filled with worry, and you sat up like the house was on fire.

However, you were not prepared for the hulking frame that was Sherlock Holmes to greet you. He stood by your daughter’s crib, and your heart dropped to your stomach as you slowly slid to the edge of the bed. You shakily reached for him, his name on your lips, and he turned around. You sharply inhaled at the sight of your daughter in his arms, the small thing looking so much smaller while being held in his bands of muscle.

“Give her to me…please,” you whispered.

You did not know why you wanted him away from her. He knew the truth, and as if reading your thoughts, he said:

“Why? Is it not within my rights to hold her? She is mine…is she not?”

His voice was venomous, eyes icy as he looked to you, and you flinched. You settled back down on the bed, shrinking in on yourself as he glared at you. You did not know what to say. What could you say? In the light of day, it was obvious more than ever who her true father was. Why on earth were you feeling guilty? You had no reason to.

“Does he know?” he suddenly asked you, voice low and softer now.

“Of course not,” you tearfully replied.

You hated lying to your husband, but choices had to be made to protect her, to give her a good life. Sherlock heaved a shaky sigh, and you twisted your hands into your nightdress.

“Where is he?”

“He’s gone to town…said he needed to get some things for the inn,” he answered.

You were somehow simultaneously relieved and terrified.

“Sherlock-.”

“So, this is why you married him,” he bitterly said. “This is why you rushed to take his name and forget me so easily.”

“You have no right,” you sneered, standing and rushing towards him.

He moved back, keeping her away from you, and you were tempted to stomp your foot like a child.

“You kept her from me,” he accused, blue eyes boring into your own, and your skin prickled under his cold stare.

“I would not expect you to understand,” you told him.

His handsome face twisted into something ugly, and he stepped towards you.

“Why did you not tell me?”

You sneered at him.

“When was I supposed to do that? I would see you what…3, maybe 4 times a year if I was lucky?”

“You could have written to me!”

She squirmed in his arms, making a noise of protest, and you reached out, shushing her, but again, he held her out of your reach. You clenched your hands into fists, chest aching as he forced you to talk about what you had done.

“…and how was I to find you? How was I to know you would receive my letter in time? You were gallivanting all over the country, Sherlock. I would have been showing by the time I waited for you to turn up.”

He at least had the decency to look a tad sheepish, and he glanced down at the baby in his arms.

“Of course, you do not get it. You are not a woman. I did not have time or options. Decisions had to be made for both me and my daughter’s sake, and unfortunately, they had to be made without you.”

He did not respond, and you watched the way he looked at her. When you had first found out, this was everything you had wanted. You had dreamed of him looking at her just like that, but then reality had set in and crushed those dreams. Reluctantly, he handed her back to you, and you pressed your lips to her forehead. You felt his large hand on the top of your head, and when you looked up, his eyes were on you.

“Leave with me,” he whispered.

Pain etched across your features, and you shook your head.

“I cannot.”

“Yes, you can. She is mine, not his, and you love me…not him.”

You did not acknowledge the fact that he saw right through you no matter how much you pretended otherwise. Again, you shook your head and backed away from him.

“I cannot do that to him. He is a good man, and he does not deserve that,” you told him.

Sherlock stepped towards you until his body heat was all you could feel, and you looked down, avoiding his eye.

“So, am I to leave? Never to see you again and just allow him to raise my daughter as his own? Forget about you?”

“Yes.”

You regretted it almost as soon as you said it, but what else could you do? Running away with him was not an option. People would talk. Ruin would follow your name, and anything between you and the man before you would not be legitimate. You had to think of your daughter first. Before he could say anything else, the sound of the front door opening reached your ears, and your wide eyes found his.

You did not say anything, but you silently begged him to do what you wanted. Sherlock looked as if he wanted to do the complete opposite of what you wanted, face troubled and brows furrowed, but eventually, he relented. Reluctantly, he stepped back and exited your room, slipping downstairs and into his own.

Sherlock stayed at your inn for a little over a week, only 2 other guests passing through in that time. When your husband was gone, you allowed him to hold your daughter, and you had no idea how much you would be affected by the sight of the burly man holding the doll sized child in his arms. You knew that it got harder and harder for him to hand her back to you, and you worried what would happen when it came time for him to leave.

She was currently with him now while you cleaned one of the rooms that a guest had stayed in. Your husband had gone to get ingredients for the kitchen, and you were relieved to be alone with your thoughts. Not once had you ever regretted your decisions, but now you were having second thoughts. You would love for your daughter to grow up with her real father in her life, but it just would not be possible. There were so many things that you wanted that were no longer possible. It was bittersweet, sure, but you were glad that Sherlock got to know her for a short time versus having never known her at all.

You had just stripped the bed, turning to get more sheets when you were startled by the man himself in the doorway. You pressed your hand to your chest, fighting to slow your heart as you curiously looked at him. Your brows furrowed as you looked for your daughter.

“She’s asleep,” he said, answering your silent question.

“Oh,” you responded, relieved. “Is something wrong?”

He pursed his lips, stepping into the room, and you blinked at him.

“I cannot do it,” he suddenly said, shaking his head.

Dread settled in your gut, but you pressed him for the answers that you already knew.

“What do you mean…?”

He neared you, and you leaned back a bit at his close proximity.

“You cannot ask this of me-.”

“Sherlock-.”

“I will not do it. I will not just walk away!”

“You have to-!”

“That is my daughter. That is our daughter. You expect me to just go on and pretend that she does not exist?”

You looked away from him, overwhelmed with panic as he wrapped his hands around your arms.

“You both will leave with me,” he whispered. “I will right my wrongs-.”

“I cannot-.”

“I do not care about him. He is nothing to me,” he sneered. “He is the man who has laid claim to something that does not belong to him.”

“I am not yours anymore!”

You both stared each other down, and you frowned when he pushed you back until you felt the wall behind you. His eyes were wild with so many emotions. Anger, pain, desperation, jealousy, and the one that was a constant when he was with you, hunger.

“You will always be mine,” he murmured, leaning in.

You turned your head away, and his lips met your cheek.

“You surrendered your body to me, and it has been mine ever since. I was the first to touch you…and I shall be the last.”

His lips found yours against your will, and with his hands on your arms, you could not push him away. You had forgotten what his lips felt like, what he tasted like, but none of that mattered because you were a married woman now. Sherlock was your past and that was where he needed to remain. You opened your mouth to tell him that, to protest, but he merely took the opportunity to reacquaint himself with the taste of your tongue.

He released you only to press his hands onto your hips, and you pushed against his chest. His moan told you that it had no effect, and your panic grew when he stepped back, pulling you with him. His hands were everywhere as you fought against him, and although your mind protested what was happening, your body, having been accustomed to his euphoric touch for so long, melted under the familiar ministrations.

He had you on your back in no time, tearing your dress off of you with ease. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, the man before you equal to that of a man starved, and his eyes and mouth and hands had one goal in mind and that was to get inside of you in any way possible.

“We cannot do this,” you gasped the minute he pulled away, but it was as if he did not hear you. “Sherlock!”

Your efforts to get him off of you only increased when you realized that he was almost as naked as you were. His lips tasted your neck and chest, and you sharply yelped when his teeth nipped at you.

“I have half a mind to mark your skin as you have marked my soul,” he whispered. “…to show that husband of yours what it truly means to claim you.”

You pressed your nails into his chest when he slid inside of you, hips meeting yours in a way that you had not felt for over a year. A satisfied moan left him, and you could not stop the way you clenched around his length, your body missing the feel of him. Still, you pushed against him, shaking your head with tear-filled eyes as he began to move. The next time you opened your mouth to protest, a choked moan came out instead, and you sunk your teeth into your lip.

“Feel the way you cling to me…the way your body loosens up to what it knows so well.”

He was right. He knew how to play your body like an instrument, knowing exactly what to do to make you sing, but that did not make it right. Your hands pushing against his shoulders and chest were of no use, and so you resorted to begging.

“Please…stop,” you pleaded in between breaths, but he merely shook his head.

“No,” he plainly said, hands greedily pressing into some of the baby weight that remained. “I have gone without you for far too long, and that is a mistake I will never make again.”

Your body was on fire from his thrusts, and you were hardly coherent enough o be having this conversation.

“You cannot just…you cannot just steal us away-.”

“I cannot steal what is rightfully mine,” he purred, wrapping his lips around a hardened bud.

Your lashes fluttered, and you dug your nails into his skin, pushing against him, but again, he was immoveable. Your vision was blurry from your tears now, and you squeezed your eyes shut when he completely fell over you, arms pressed into the bed beside your head, caging you in until all you could see and smell was him.

You reminded of your first time. It had been nighttime then, and he had ordered you to relax and take what pleasure he bestowed upon you. He had taken his time to figure out what your body liked and what your body loved, but he had been completely in control. Now seemed no different. Sherlock was once again completely in control of your body, forcing you to accept whatever pleasure he pushed onto you.

Someone could have entered the inn, looking for a place to stay, and you would not have known. Your husband could have long returned, and you would be none the wiser. He kissed you, a gentle action that was a far cry from his powerful thrusts, and you could taste your tears on his lips.

“I would have come running,” he suddenly whispered into your mouth. “The second I found out, I would have come for you.”

His eyes flitted between your terrified ones, and he continued.

“I would have made an honest woman out of you. I would have been by your side every step of the way.”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear what could have been.

“I would have loved to see you round and swollen with my daughter, but this is our second chance.”

You came around him before he soon followed, coating your insides with a groan, lips furiously covering your own. You were so conflicted. Your body felt more satisfied than it had been in a year, heart swelling at the thought of getting the future you really wanted, but you were so angry with him, angry with what he had just done to you.

You hit at him the minute he pulled out of you, sitting up and taking you with him. It was as if your hits did not phase him at all, and he merely shushed you, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest.

“I will do the talking,” he started, pressing his lips into your hair, ignoring the way you cried and shook in his hold. “I will explain to him that I am taking back what is mine, and I will walk out of here with you and our daughter at my side, right where you belong.”

     ~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​ @harryspet​​​ @readermia​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​ @nickyl316h​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​ @villanellevi​​​ @lokislastlove​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​ @hurricanerin​​ @trinittyy​​ @hyoyeoniie​​ @kellyn1604​​ @sherrybaby14​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @mandiiblanche​ @gotnofucks​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @doozywoozy​ @sapphirescrolls​ @threeminutesoflife​ @searchforanotherway​

[borkthemork]

The clock ticked softly above their heads.

Within those intervals, Marcy wondered how synced she and Anne were to the seconds. That one kiss equaled ten seconds, that something chaste and innocent could rival the creation of a thought. An action.

Or that when Marcy tugged lightly at Anne's bottom lip, time seemed to skip in accordance, and left her girlfriend dazed in the aftermath.

All of it made sense. Kissing meant that adrenaline and dopamine came afterward. In seeing her girlfriend react so dopey over a tiny kiss made her heart skip, and to have her heart be all silly was predictable.

However, what she didn't expect was for those moments of kissing to transform into talking.

Talking about topics that Marcy had never researched about, actually. She’d been the kind to be curious before and lay out all the details like a presentation, but to have Anne ramble silently about something always came down as a gift. A gift where — when they were both tired, mumbling little flirty nothings into each other’s ears until someone got red up the neck — Anne could comment on something new that Marcy never heard about.

And Marcy listened keenly — at how Anne breathed out facts and anecdotes from the tip of her tongue — and took in every word like a lullaby.

In this moment, Anne was rambling about Thai culture. She did it before, but Marcy never stopped eating up the moments when they came.

Because in moments like now, where Anne's chest would rumble out laughter, Marcy couldn’t help but press her ear to the other’s heartbeat. Feeling the scratchy fabric. The tha-thump, tha-thump of her favorite human being. "So yeah, we have masks for plays and theater stuff. I don't know much about the whole Ramakien part. Only a lil', and you sure you want to hear about it? Might be pretty boring.”

Marcy hummed. It was nice to listen to Anne ramble like this, in fact, it reminded her so much of the conversations they had back in their childhood. When the two were just kids in some parking lot, or lounging soundly in the Plantar's backyard. Talking. And nothing more. "I don't mind asking about it, Anne," Marcy whispered. With the dorm bed sheets slipping down their bodies, Marcy pulled them back up. All for capturing some warmth in the Christmas cold. "After all, your culture loves theatrical expression and storytelling."

"And food."

Her smile pressed to her abdomen. "They always sound so deeply embedded in your family, it's incredible. With my family, we don’t really talk about it. The traditions are all”—Marcy twirled her pinkies together—”mish-mashed with grades and respect. It’s exhausting.”

"Well, it doesn’t have to be like that all the time." Anne pulled Marcy closer to her, and Marcy couldn’t help but melt into the heat, at how Anne somehow generated more than the heater itself. Didn't help that Anne's lungs rolled slowly underneath her, almost lulling Marcy to sleep. "I mean, I talked a lot about khon theater today for someone who’s never seen one.”

“You didn’t?” Marcy whispered.

“No.” Anne nestled more into the mattress. Marcy could see that her girlfriend’s free arm now moved ��� now cushioned below Anne’s neck, pushing her attention more toward the ceiling than anywhere else. “I just thought they were boring so I never went. I do know a few facts though, if you want.”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

Anne’s smile looked beautiful despite the weird angle. Almost peaceful. At ease with herself. “Well, right.” She then clicked her tongue, uttering ‘uhm’s and ‘mm’s as if the words escaped her, slipping through the cracks of her grasp. “So the demon masks do have more angry expressions. There are masked heroes that save princesses from demons, and I remember my mom always telling me that the King of Lanka mask is always the most important part in a play because the guy’s a total unit.”

"Not a unit compared to the queen," Marcy mused. She didn't have to look up to know that Anne stared back at her, confused. "It's a chess joke, continue."

And she didn't have to look up to know that Anne's laugh was beautiful, and drifted softly into her ear. "I don’t know if words can do it justice, I’m not even giving that much of a good visual.”

“I don’t know, Anne, I’m imagining it really well right now.”

A hand ruffled her hair. “It’s still not enough. Tell you what, maybe I can buy some tickets for us so I can show you.” Then the hand turned into light fingers curling lightly through her dark bangs until it brushed the curve of her ear. Marcy would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t shudder. “Would make for a neat date."

"Mmm." Her fingers drifted down Anne's clavicle. To the scar clear on Anne's skin, and for a second, time seemed to skip in accordance, and Marcy found herself smiling — hidden deep in the blankets with Anne beside her. "I'd like that! Maybe going to a play can also rejog your memory about the King specifically.”

"Then I can tell you all about it,” Anne said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Show that our King is heck of a lot better than some chess game."

Marcy giggled. "Sounds perfect."

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chance Ch. 15: Problem Solving (Last name: Wayne)

AO3

Prev

Walking into class after lunch break, Marinette keeps her head down. No need to bring attention to the fact that she’s late...again. Sliding into her seat, she breathes a sigh of relief that Mme. Bustier is also late. Probably making copies. Either way, it had saved her from getting in trouble for being late again. Opening her bag to take out her stuff, she winces as Lila’s voice pierces the room.

“And then, he said he missed me so much that he cried!” She exclaims, clutching her hands together and sighing. Marinette rolls her eyes, certain that whoever it is either doesn’t actually know Lila, or doesn’t know Lila. Either way….lie.

“I still can’t believe you’re official with THE Tim Drake!” Alya exclaims. Marinette immediately chokes on air, her entire face turning bright red as she coughs and attempts to catch her breath. It doesn’t help that everyone is suddenly staring at her and waiting to see if she’s okay. The story pops back into her mind. Yeah, sure Lila. Tim Drake is dating you- an annoying little kid. Sure.

“Are you okay?” Rose asks once Marinette finally catches her breath. She smiles awkwardly, not ready for a confrontation with Lila over this, but also wary to let anyone spread this specific rumor.

“Yeah, it’s just-” Marinette pauses and sighs. This wouldn’t be the high road, but she had to watch out for her brother. “I’m just not sure Lila is telling the truth.” Chaos erupts around her. She chances a glance at Adrien, surprised to see his supportive smile. Well, almost. They had gotten closer. And sure, he’s said he liked her in Gotham, but she kinda thought he just blurted it out after seeing she was Ladybug. She wasn’t quite sure if he actually liked her.

“I-I just don’t understand why you hate me!” Lila sobs.

“I don't-” Marinette tries to say. Keyword- tries.

“Girl, you should apologize. Lila's been talking about Tim since before we even went to Gotham! They’re super serious now. They have been for almost two years.” Alya says.

“No they’re not! Do you seriously think an almost twenty year old CEO would date some fifteen year old kid from halfway across the world? I doubt Tim’s ever even been to Italy or France since becoming Co-CEO.” Marinette rambles, knowing with absolute certainty that she was right.

“Marinette! You’re kind of being mean. Lila says-” Rose tries to say.

“Just because Lila said something doesn’t mean it’s true!” Marinette cries, her frustration threatening to overwhelm her.

“Girl, you seriously need to apologize.” Alya says softly. Marinette’s jaw drops.

“For what?” She scoffs, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “For seeing the truth and calling it out? For not bending to Lila’s every whim?”

“For being a bad friend.” Alya says simply. Marinette freezes. A bad friend? Really? Her? A bad friend? How? All she’d ever done was try to be good. To be nice. To be perfect.

“Whatever.” She finally says, standing and grabbing her stuff. She storms out of the room, ignoring the yells of protest from her classmates. She thinks she hears Adrien, but she ignores him too and continues on her rampage past everyone, including Mme. Bustier. She doesn’t stop until she’s in the basement of the school. The only thing down here were a few vending machines. She tries to calm herself down, knowing her anger is unnecessary. But it’s hard.

She wants to let herself be mad, she should be able to be mad about this! She was always trying to be  a good friend and do things for other people and help the class even when she didn’t have time. Even if it meant missing out on sleep or doing something she wants to do, she put them first. Always. But somehow, Lila came out on top. She always comes out on top. They always believed Lila. Always.

“You should leave Marinette, before you attract an akuma.” Tikki says calmly. Marinette blinks, trying to figure out- Oh. Kaalki. Duh. Quickly calling on her transformation, Marinette portals into her room at the manor before a butterfly can come infect her. The second she lands, she calls off her transformation and continues her pacing.

“I’ve always been there for them. Always helped them. Always cared. How is calling Lila out being a bad friend? She’s not even my friend!” Marinette rambles with a huff.

“Maybe you should talk to your family- get their opinions.” Tikki suggests. Marinette starts to turn her down, then realizes she has to say something. Lila’s telling lies about Tim. Lies that could get him in some serious trouble.

“I have to tell Tim! If Alya publishes anything about Lila and Tim he could get in a LOT of trouble.” Marinette rambles, throwing her door open. She blinks in surprise at Tim, standing there frowning with a huge cup of what she assumes is coffee.

“When’d you get here?” He asks, and she can tell he’s much too tired to take this seriously right now.

“I’ll fill you in later, Timmy. Get some sleep.” She says, giving him a quick hug before darting around him and down the stairs. She had to tell someone who could deal with it. Not that she wanted Lila to get in trouble or anything like that, but...she didn’t want them to be able to lie about her family anymore. She’d accept all of those other stupid lies if she just stopped lying about the Waynes.

Running past the ballroom, a sudden movement makes her backtrack and actually glance into the ballroom. Her eyes widen when she notices the movement she caught was Dick….hanging from the chandelier. Of course. Well, he’s not going to be much help, she thinks, shaking her head and turning to try and find someone else. Maybe Mr.- maybe her dad was around. Now if she was a superhero/co-CEO combo where would she spend her free time. She hums, before deciding to check his study. If he wasn’t in there, she’d just go through and check the Batcave. He had to be in one of those places. She knocks on his study door, completely expecting silence, so she’s confused when she hears him call:

“Come in.” She raises an eyebrow. Okay, so he is in the study. Pushing the door open, she smiles at him, rubbing the back of her neck nervously at the brief look of complete and total shock on his face.

“Uh, hi Dad.” She says, rocking back onto her heels nervously. He controls his face quickly, gesturing for her to shut the door.

“Marinette. When did you arrive?” He asks, carefully examining her. She turns red when she realizes- he’s looking for injuries. Since going back to Paris, she hadn’t really communicated with her family unless she was injured or unable to fight. Promising herself to change that, she sits in the chair in front of his desk.

“Five minutes ago, maybe? I’m not sure. I just-” She pauses and frowns, realizing that her emotions almost got the better of her today. She almost let her frustration win. Over something silly. Shaking the thoughts away, she says “I was upset. Lila was lying again and usually I can just ignore her but this time… She was telling everyone that she’s dating Tim, and that they’re really serious and have been for almost two years.” Her dad’s eyebrows twitch slightly.

“Isn’t Lila your age?” He asks.

“Well, she’s already fifteen. But still, it would put Tim in a really bad light if Alya posted it somewhere and knowing Alya, she’s going to post it. Because they all believe Lila. And I tried to explain to them that Tim is quite a bit older than us and he’s an actual CEO and we’re just kids to him and he hasn’t even been in Italy or France and-” She pauses, letting herself take a breath. “I just think it’s wrong for her to lie about my family.”

---

Bruce tries hard to hide his shock. His daughter, who he’d known for less than two months, came all the way to Gotham because someone lied about Tim. It wasn’t the first time someone lied about the Wayne family, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time. But the fact that his daughter was so upset that she had to come here...he was not going to let this slide. Wayne manor was a safe place, so he would make sure Marinette was able to breathe and relax a little before going home. And he was going to plan a way to stop the lies, to help Marinette.

“How can I help?” He asks, wanting to help but also wanting to make sure he does not overstep. He had heard her explaining to Damian why she let the girl get away with so many lies- it was an attempt to stop a mass akumatization. Bruce also wanted to avoid something like that, which is why he would follow his daughter’s lead.

“I don’t know! I know if I reveal everything it’s- it’s gonna be bad. I don’t know if we’d be able to handle something like that right now. Two of our temporary holders, people I trust a lot, are out of town. I don’t really trust anyone else and I’m certain we’d need their powers for the fallout from Lila’s kingdom falling.” She explains, bouncing her leg up and down as she glances around the room, possibly to come up with a plan. Bruce knew that he used a similar method when he was younger.

“What about the rumors related to the family? Do you think it would be safe to end those?” He asks, a plan beginning to form. But he’d have to get her permission. It would change many things.

“Well….yes. Yes, I think it would be safe. And even if it wasn’t, I know the fallout wouldn’t be anywhere as bad as if some of the other lies came to light.” She says. Bruce nods.

“Very well. Marinette, I believe I have something that might work, but I’m unsure if you’ll agree.” He says.

“We tell them I’m a Wayne.” Marinette says simply. Bruce blinks in surprise. It had definitely been what he was thinking, but thinking it and hearing his daughter say it out loud as if it was the most simple thing ever, those were two completely different things. He’s silent, trying to gather his words again when Marinette chuckles nervously. “I mean, we could say that I know you guys. Cause that’s not a lie.” She says. He sighs, realizing that his silence may have hurt her.

“Marinette, honey, you’re a Wayne. I want you to be one, and if you do as well, then of course we can tell them. I can even arrange for nondisclosure statements to be signed by the students in your class and the faculty. In case you’re not quite ready for the entire world to know.” He says quietly, hoping his voice is soft enough to reassure her. Her tense shoulders fall as she relaxes, her smile easing back into a natural one. Good. He didn’t mess up this time.

“Can we really do that? I do want to be a Wayne, it’s just. I’m not sure I’m ready for the world to look at me.” She says quietly. At this, he quirks a smile.

“If Adrien Agreste’s father is able to get an entire school to sign NDA’s about the boy’s lunch habits, I’m certain that having them sign an NDA when it’s for your safety will be no issue. Besides, if anyone breaks the NDA with malicious or ill intent, we can sue them.” He says simply.

“Oh, well, suing them seems a bit much.” She mumbles. He’s about to argue, when she shrugs. “But it also makes sense. Let’s do this.” He’s instantly proud of the determined look in her eyes. From saving her city to fighting lying bullies, his daughter was so much stronger than she thought.

---

Walking into class the following Monday was nerve wracking. It was almost the end of the school year, so she could’ve asked her Dad to wait until the next year to fix it. But she didn’t want to chance Lila lying about Tim all summer. Or anyone else in her family. Lila could use anyone else- even MDC- to get ahead, Marinette didn’t care. But she was done with Lila using her family. Originally, she had wanted to just do it quietly. Tell the teacher and have her pass out the forms. That’s probably how she would have done it too if her brothers hadn’t found out.

Now, her entire family was coming. She was cautious, but they promised to keep their emotions in check while they were in town. And they could always portal out if things got too tense. But, her brothers were drama queens. So it just made sense that they wanted to give her class the papers in person. She suspected Tim also wanted the chance to glare at Lila in person, and she wasn’t about to deny him that.

“Okay class! We have a few guests coming in today. They’ll be here in a couple minutes and I want you all to give them your full attention and respect.” Mme. Bustier announces, clapping her hands to get their attention. Marinette lets out a shaky breath. Here goes nothing. She tunes out the chatter of her classmates, keeping her eyes on the door. Waiting. Watching. Finally, she sees their shadows outside and her leg starts bouncing. Maybe she shouldn’t have let all of them get involved….

“Oh my god! That’s Bruce Wayne!” Alya yells as her family walks in. Marinette winces slightly at the instant fangirling from many of her classmates. She risks a glance at Lila and tries not to laugh at how pale the Italian girl had gotten. In fact, she looked a little green.

“Hello everyone! My name is Bruce Wayne, though I think you all should remember me from your trip to Gotham.” He says with a wide (fake) smile. Marinette wrinkles her nose. She doesn’t like this fake side of her Dad. She’d much rather watch him be overly serious than use that weird fake smile.

“We’ve brought some forms for everyone in this class to sign, as well as the faculty. The rest of the school won’t be required to sign these forms because it is assumed that what we are about to tell you will not go outside of this room.” Tim starts to explain, no coffee in his hand for once. “I know that it will not go outside of this room because these are NDAs, and we can and will take legal action against anyone who tells someone outside of this room about this information.” Everyone is silent, and while Marinette herself feels tense, she notices that most of her class just looks excited. Except Adrien, who was glancing back at her and looking worried. They’d already talked about this, but he was still worried. He seemed to think that this was one of her worst ideas, but honestly, Marinette didn’t care. She wanted to be able to (kind of) openly accept the other half of her family.

“Oh my god, is Tim about to propose?” Alya loudly whispers to Lila. Marinette can’t help it. She snorts. Out loud. Her face instantly heats as the entire room turns to look at her.

“Oh, uh, sorry?” She says, though it’s definitely more of a question than a statement. She wasn’t sorry.

“I am not about to propose. I’m actually not currently seriously seeing anyone, but there is a boy back home who I’ve had a few dates with.” Tim says. Marinette watches as Alya tries to say something, only to be stopped by Nino gently patting her hand and shaking his head. Good. Maybe they’d get through this without anyone getting akumatized. She glances at Lila again, rolling her eyes at the obviously fake upset look on her face. Is she seriously acting like Tim is cheating on her? In front of Tim? How dumb is she?

“I actually came to have everyone sign an NDA since my youngest daughter is in your class.” Her dad says, metaphorically dropping the bomb. He didn’t just drop it though, he chucked it at the class. The effect is immediate, the entire class erupting in whispers. Mme. Bustier tries, without luck, to gain control of the class. Marinette watches as Damian, who looked ready to murder any and all of her classmates, whistles an insanely high pitch. Wincing slightly, she makes eye contact with him and quirks an eyebrow. He shrugs, but it had been successful. The class was silent once again.

“When is she starting here?” Alya asks, obviously going into reporter mode. Marinette makes eye contact with her Dad, watching as he barely quirks an eyebrow, a silent question. One last chance to back out. She nods for him to continue. She wanted this.

“She actually already goes here. She just decided it was time to embrace the Wayne name.” He says, nodding at her. Marinette lets out a grounding breath and stands, quickly moving over to stand by her brothers. She tries to hide her hands behind her back, knowing they’re shaking like crazy. She positions herself between Dick and Jason, instantly able to relax as the feeling of safety washes over her. The class is completely silent, and Marinette isn’t sure if they don’t understand or if they’re in shock. She’s not sure which would be better.

“What?” Alya asks, barely audible.

“Marinette is my daughter, I am her biological father. She’s a Wayne. And you all have been provided with an NDA about her identity, so that she can remain safe and anonymous to the rest of Paris. Your parents have already agreed and signed both their forms and forms giving you all permission to sign a form. They all understand the importance of this secret, and I urge every single one of you to take this seriously.” Her dad says, giving the class another wide (fake) smile. She lays her head on Dick’s arm, relieved that her class instantly starts signing the forms. No outbursts right now, no possible akumas forming. Nothing. It was a relief, it was freeing. She was certain that it was going to come back and bite her- sooner rather than later if the look on Lila’s face was anything to go by- but for right now, everything was calm. And her family was supposed to stay in Paris for another day, so she’d finally be able to let three of her parents meet in person. It was nice. It was safe.

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