#the only real goal is 'make kitchen a nice place to be' and that is a goal with many options

[halfdeadfriedrice]

A variety of To Dos that, as a list, at least explain why when i go home i just fall over instead of doing anything. jesus. okay.

Cosplay:

Sew plushie!! :3

watch/read like 12 more armsock tutorials

find and read face paint tutorials and also bone tutorials

shopping list: tights (arms, legs), fingernails, toenails?, boxer shorts (x2), fabric markers, face paint, whatever you need to make bones ...

honestly though plushie first

find homestuck horn tutorial (or buy some) - this is how we can still win halloween. when you are not grey, do not explain intricacies of humanstuck roleswap to truly win.

set up sewing machine

practice and learn basics of sewing machine (here but relevant for other tasks)

Fun:

you might as well get in the spirit and put up the halloween decorations. time is passing and you have to mark it somehow. you don't have to sound excited but you will appreciate new things to look at

weekend prep: find your missing supplies and pack the weekend bag. message people if you want to organize something ahead of time. get cash. also RSVP.

ask pals to share their calendars because you don't remember what's on the various agendas.

obviously baldurs gate is on the agenda but should be supplemented with other items from this list, especially the free ones.

House:

reverse the directions of all the ceiling fans to see if that thing about running them and dispersing the warm air is true

unpack various suitcases. they do not belong in the kitchen.

would it be worth turning around the side table in the living room? you could put gaming supplies in it perhaps. also i would support you cleaning it out and doing something more useful with that space.

speaking of: clean out the stuff under the TV again.

clean garage. especially clean everywhere delphine sits and pees.

clean back room. stop hiding clothes, just donate/get rid of. hang jackets. haul shit out of closet and deal with it. put the stuff you are storing in more reasonable piles.

re-sort bookshelves. back room and bedroom. check behind books for missing stuff. put the bag o books under bed on shelves. donation donation donation.

find your missing kink supplies and repack your bag for the weekend

clean out linen closet. refold so it is neat. get some nice smelly stuff ?? try to figure out why everything in your closet smells bad and remedy. anything that sucks but is helpful to have should go in the attic.

attic: all bins must have lids. any lids without bins and vice versa should be got rid of.

gather all clothes that ought to be donated and do so (multi-stage process; try on clothes, get rid of things you haven't worn in a year. less unworn things taking up dresser space.

flop warm and cold weather wardrobe. do this before donation run.

hang blinds. purchase new battery for drill or rent drill from library. i know you would buy cooler, better cell-shade blinds that can go up and down but you can't afford them so stop whining and put up the new blinds.

clean windows (as much as possible, we are aware of the existence of spiders)

ALT TO BUYING NEW TABLE: rearrange kitchen so that sitting in the kitchen is viable and enjoyable. also like. spruce up the table.

get rid of shit. like. raze it. if you cannot bear to donate it then get some new boxes and put it in the attic. no more piles of artistic garbage.

get rid of all the fucking plastic bags.

hang the decor in the kitchen you bought

go to best buy to pick up thing

House (money):

new filter for the bigger return.

figure out how to repair split cushions on desk chair so that it is nice to sit in.

go spend like $100 on bins that match. container store??? bins with lids.

a new bedroom LAMP IMAGINE.

buy a new silverware set and get rid of all unmatching silverware, and also all shitty knives.

buy some firewood and more cinnamon brooms.

buy a new kitchen table (and chairs) - SMALL also honestly preferably VERY COOL, because the midcentury modern piece you have now is VERY COOL it's just also TOO BIG.

buy a mount (either for ceiling cross-beam or free-standing - more mobile if free standing) for hammock chair. sit in it and never move again.

SPEND MONEY TO BUY SEALANT TO WATERPROOF THE DECK. ASK FOR HELP IF YOU MUST. CLEAN THE DECK FIRST.

please please please sell garage furniture. if you do you can probably buy a new table with the proceeds, and put the old one in the garage.

buy new mirrored closet doors- optimize space and get a mirror.

when you do this you must have blinds in place.

buy a clothes chest for front of bed for clothes and also the cat to use as stairs

call a contractor to a) replace that one glass pane that broke when you were trying to open a window and b) unstick all your windows that the last contractors painted shut.

tbh we also need to get a termite contract in place it's just that it's $500

purchase curtains or purchase fabric to make curtains. inventory curtain rods and maybe purchase more of those.

honestly some bistro curtains in the kitchen would be super nice and a good place to start.

paint. living room. a wall at a time if you must. figure out the colors.

measure all hanging art and buy frames for it

measure and hang shelves in living room, but only after you paint??

[writingbynova]

Hiromi Higuruma

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I have to apologize for the delay, I'm only now adapting to my new schedule and finding time to write

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⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ⊹ : pwp (porn with plot) - mdni - Higuruma x fem!reader - rough sex- overstimulation - cowgirl - doggy style - squirting - fingering - oral(fem receiving) - slight edging - degrading - mind breaking - dirty talk - hate sex (kinda)

Word count: 2.2k

Hiromi Higurama, 36 years old, of average height, dark hair, a nonchalant look always displayed, nice lips but oh whenever they curved into a mischievous smirk, you knew.

Marrying a lawyer was never in your plans, but being met with such a handsome man how could your even think to resist ?

You'd think being a lawyer he'd be a fair and just man? Wrong. Quite the opposite actually, he was an unfair manipulative man and he took full pride in it. Behind his nice, saving appearance the real him was hiding, acting all kind and pampering, saying he'd be nice and soft, luring you into his arms feigning sweet cuddle time, only to to tie your arms behind your back, put you in a full Nelson facing the bedroom mirror and have you beg him for the sole purpose of showing you just how weak and vulnerable you are next to him. Just your average lawyer.

You never ever saw it coming. He walked in the kitchen, slid behind you where you were, leaning on the counter, sipping on some red wine. A recipe for disaster. His white dress shirt emitting a nice musky scent. He wasn't particularly tall or big but oh how small you felt whenever he was around you, he just naturally knew how to keep you in check. Wrapping his arms around your waist his large hand cupping your hips, his bulge pressing into the back of your skirt "how was your day ?" He whispered, retiring to gnawing your neck, his cologne now intoxicating your senses. "Eh, It was okay, how was yours?" You asked, though focusing on what you were saying was difficult. You could feel his piercing gaze at the back of your head. Like he was analyzing your words. Good thing you were being truthful

Lying in his presence was equivalent to a death sentence. Or maybe you were being dramatic. Nu anyway he'd smell your lies from miles away and always made sure your mouth was too full and busy to solely think about trying again...

"...Oh yeah ? Mine wasn't so great I have to admit...How about you help me make it better ? This dress is so pretty, your thighs look so good..." You were fucked. Literally

Once he was away from his work place his favourite activity was rushing back home and spending time with you. Fucking you was not his intent. At least not always, it was just too hard to resist. Body con dress? Dinner's gonna have to wait. A new perfume ? How it called? Sweet innocence? Well he's gonna have to take that away with a heated session against whatever the closest surface he found is. Your waxer cancelled last minute on you ? No problem he'll cheer you up by eating that pussy like it's his last meal. Right, Just your average lawyer.

With good intentions though, the goal was to cuddle, smell you, feel you. Wholesomely, but once he did? Well those carnal desire always came running back.

The view was filthy, the feeling was another subject. Husband on his knees, face buried between your thighs, dress shirt ever-so-slightly opened so a few dark chest hair peaked from his collar. His entire mouth licking, sucking and lapping at your pussy. Palms resting on your hip bones and his thumbs spreading your lips open. "Fuckkkk"

He's shoving his entire face into it, his nose lightly nudging your hardened clit. He's like cemented onto you, aside from your delirious moans, you do try to pry his face away from your cunt but to no avail, actually he only buried himself deeper having you grip the counter. "Hiromi!Hiromi!Hiromi!" He's like deaf to your barely coherent calls, could he even hear you over the slurping noise ? Didn't matter. " 'm close, cumming f-fuck" your knees and elbows start to buckle, slowly pressing your cunt harder onto his tongue. You could swear you heard a faint chuckle at that, but you're too out of it to even think it through, he's lapping at your cum, groaning and huffing like a starved dog. While your chest rises up and down frantically, and you haven't yet regained your breathing pace when his eyes peak out for below your skirt..

His figure tall figure came up, quite literally creeping up you. His eyes never leaving yours, The look of sex. Desire colored his face, slightly blushing, his hand quickly came around roaming on your body before he settled for the nape of your neck and your waist. His mouth crashed over yours, his tongue sliding in and overpowering yours, light groans escaping the midst. It's almost shocking how skilled he his. "How about we go somewhere more comfortable?"

Who would have thought a lawyer, a perfect, professional, extremely skilled lawyer at that  could finger you like as good as he could plead a case. You didn't, but now you knew though. Because he was playing with your entrance like it was just another work case, however this was different there was a passion in it, like he'd been waiting. Waiting to hear you whine his name, waiting to have you beg him to fuck you stupid. Just your... What is it again ? Lawyer ?

You could feel the minty taste on his lips. His hand cupping your cheek, keeping your lips against his and by the time you're able to pull away you're gasping for air. Still he's holding your wobbly thighs apart, letting his digits rub and abuse your clit. "You're driving me crazy love" he breathes. You're kneeling over him and leaning on his shoulder, barely supporting yourself, even less with his finger working magic of your soaked pussy...

"You're- ah shit— you're the one making me c-crazy...wanna cum" you whisper in his ear, resting your arms on his shoulders. His fingers keep teasing you, sometimes toying harder with your sensitive bud. Lawyer? Sadist? At this point you don't know.

"My love is making requests ? Mhm, I can't make you cum so soon though. Wouldn't it be too easy ? A good lawyer takes his time working on a case, especially one as passioning as this ..." Yeah sadist. Definitely. His words only make you crave him harder. You just want to grind everywhere. His fingers, his face, his thigh, his cock. All of it. But still you're reduced to being teased dripping wet over him. "Hiromi— you're n-not fair with me" you squeel. But weirdly enough he stays silent. Almost as if you just said it. It, the thing to not say, it's not like you called a lawyer unfair ? Right ? Yeah you're fucked.

"Oh am I now ?"

His fingers slowed down. The time probably did too because it felt as if you looked at him for an eternity and as if he did just the same. His eyes dug into yours, and his expression changed. He looked like he had just been, challenged ? You couldn't think about it further because in a split second his fingers filled you up. Rubbing and curving around your sensitive walls. His movements ripped long awaited moans from you "ah! Fuckkkk it's good, so— fucking good !" You cried,

A soft smile adorned his face, nodding and whispering "I know, I know, I'm only trying to be fair to you my love" Your moans muffled by his mouth, hungrily capturing your lips, before rutting his fingers along your spongey walls. His fingers replayed the same actions. Again and again. Playing with your soft spot, like a routine. You felt high tension build in your stomach, using with each thrust he made. "Hiromi ! I'm cumming! F-fuck" you cried your hand gripping his hair. Your thighs slowly gave  up, having you resting on his thighs.

"Come lie down. Face down, ass up." 7 words and you still blinked like an idiot, it's not like you juste cummed like a whore. Though you obviously got up as best and you could and executed his orders. It's not like you'd say no to dick, and seeing how hard he was you wanted it just as bad as he wanted to dick you down.

He stood behind you, hand groping and massaging your ass. He brought his cock up against you hole pressed up against it, his precum leaking over you already sensitive pussy. Your second name must be oblivious.

His cock slowly sinks into you. You immediately start throbbing at small amount of his length you've been able to feel. He pushes in deeper until the base of his cock is against your ass. The heat in accumulating on your face, it's hard to think straight, or even just to breathe clearly. His hands grab you hips. Hard. His thumbs dig into your lower back and before you're able to even think about speaking up, his thrust start. Start shaking you, knocking the oxygen out of your lungs. "Ah ! Hiromi! Ah-" you yelp. Eyes wide open, tears slightly pricking your eyes, your walls are clutching around his thrusts. "I was being unfair no? Now it's Ah, it's my duty to break you" he grunts, his speed picking up. Oblivious

"Ah! S-shit, I didn't...mean it like that" you cried, tugging on the sheets. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was definitely being called unfair. And by that he meant when you called him unfair, I mean he never denied it though but it didn't mean you had the right to say it. "Ah, I'm unfair ? Fuck, I'll show you unfair" he said, watching you crumble below him.

His hips rutted into you, again and again, with so much strength you could feel it in every angle of your body, occasionally using spikes of energy to lift your head up and breath before he shoved your face back into the mattress, muffling your screams. Your shaky fingers pathetically gripping and pulling on the sheets. Still he slammed himself deep and what seemed like even deeper into you, your high pitched moans still resonating through the foam. "No... Ah, this isn't unfair enough, tell me, ah, am I being fair enough?" He purred, right next to your ear, slowing in his tracks. Waiting for you to answer him. But you were too busy relishing in finally being able to breath and think. Well not clearly enough obviously. Too busy until his veiny hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you up close to him. Not tightening around your neck, not yet. Just lifting you upwards so your back was against his chest. His spare hand held both your wrists being your back. Giving you no control. Entirely at his mercy.

His cock only seemed to dig deeper and further into you, while his hand tightened around you throat. "I said, am, I, being, fair, enough?" He grunted, each word spaced by a breath snatching thrust. His hands finally let go of you and your upper body instantly fell forward, you barely attempted to save yourself. You inhaled short sharp breathes against the mattress. Your lower half completely dismissing your distress. Your legs going numb. F- ah! Fuck, m-mean, being mean" you cried, fat tears blurring your eyelashes as your felt your orgasm hitting you.

"Oh so now you're calling me mean ?" He asked, his thrust only doubling in intensity, dolling you around. You could feel each and every inch of his cock, stretching, filling you. His grunts deepened, potentially signaling he was close. Truthfully you couldn't tell. The dick was too good. You voice overpowered his, your pathetic "ah!ah!ah!" Ringing through the slapping noise of his hips on your ass.

"Oh fuckkkk, there we go" he slowly pulled out, letting his ropes of cum seep from your hole as you laid there, fucked out.

His arms came lifting you up, making you straddle his lap. "No honey we don't waste around here." Three thick fingers easily slid up your pussy. "truthfully my love, you're right. I am an unfair man, so now you're gonna ride it" Through your state of euphoria his voice seemed so far away and so close and loud at the same time. Regardless, you grabbed his cock and pressed the tip to your entrance. Your weak moans only amused him to lengths as he guided you down. "there you go, just slide all— the way down, just like that." You could barely speak, moans rolling out of your mouth non-stop. "P-please ? S' too f-fucking- ah! D-deep—" you whimpered shuddering up and down his shaft. "You're doing great darling, fuckk- don't you mind me... I'm just a very mean and unfair man after all" one of his hand rested on your hip directing you down his length over and over.

A mischievous smile of please sprawled on his face his thumb pressed downing your clit. Hard, pressing down circles on the hardened bud. A horde of butterflies flew straight to your lower stomach and you feel your climax hit you. Fast. His eyes stared you down, relishing in watching you convulse over him. Okay. Definitely not your average lawyer. "I'm about to cum- ah f-fuck, Hiromi!" You cried throwing you head back. Your nails scratching his back, as you feel yourself spiking and squirting down on him. Your eyes fly shut the intensity knocking the wind out of you. You were quite literally speechless. His hands come around to grab and support you. Rubbing you lower back 

"Hope I wasn't too unfair my love"

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[margaretoakgrove]

Gift for birthday

Walking the thorny road of your uneasy life, you managed to comprehend one simple yet great mystery of that the appearance of a person frequently can be deceiving and far from always reflect their authentic essence.

You came to this conclusion after on your path you had met many people who were flawlessly beautiful outside but disgustingly ugly on the inside, and also those few ones who behind their brutal exterior, in fact, hid an incredibly gentle soul.

And to your grand happiness your beloved Karl Heisenberg proved to be exactly that same kind of man.

But, unfortunetaly, here in this located in a mountainous region of Eastern Europe remote little village because of his rather formidable looks, rank of being one of the Four Lords of the village lands and unnatural for human beings powers of controlling different metal objects only with his mind Karl was perceived by the local residents as an arrogant and incapable of love or compassion extremely dangerous individual, but only to you Heisenberg opened up his genuinely caring, fun-loving and sensetive nature and all the truth about that cruel and egoistic Mother Miranda forced him to become her obedient servant against his own will, and that already quite for a long time he had been dreaming to be free of the oppression of her barbarous tyranny.

Actually, one needs to say that it was not only one dream which the Lord was seriously intended to turn into reality one day.

Yesterday early in the morning when both of you were sitting at the kitchen table and nicely chatting over a cup of freshly brewed fragnant coffee he honestly confessed to you that at least for once in his entire life he would really like to properly celebrate his own birthday with real presents and a real big birthday cake.

To hear this amazing news from the Lord you were indescribably glad as before in your conversations he had never told you even when his birthday was, and what joy that was for you to find out that it was supposed to be already on the next day!

Determined to make your beloved feel a little bit more happier, you conceived to secretly organize a small pleasant surprise for him by preparing a homemade festive cake and a lovely useful gift, despite the fact that Karl was not going to celebrate his birthday so soon for the simple reason that, as he himself said, he didn't have absolutely any time for entertainments as at the current moment the total elimination of Miranda was the number one goal for him, that is why his tomorrow's birthday Heisenberg planned to spend just like one of his most regular days, hoping at least not to cross paths anywhere with his adopted family, the members of which he had always sincerely dispised.

But all these plans and hopes of the Lord crumbled into dust when at the crack of dawn he was unceremoniously awakened by the unexpected telephone call of Mother Miranda herself. As it turned out, "her highness crazy witch" for some unknown reason decided to arrange an unscheduled family gathering and demanded for her "son" to partake in it along with his siblings and arrive for this to the cave church asap, thereby not leaving him even the slightest chance to normally wash his face, let alone have some breakfast.

Hastily dressed, our birthday man, fiercely cursing Miranda for so brazenly spoiling all his day today, went outside where nature unfriendly greeted him with a massive snowfall accompanied by the powerful gusts of a freezing wind.

"Fucking matches..." He grumbled under his breath, trying to light a cuban cigar with no success. "Always extinguish even from the slightest breeze..."

You volunteered to walk the Lord right to the main factory gates, paying zero attention to all of his insistent protests not to do that in such a cold stormy weather. On his covered with deep scars stubbled cheek you placed a light goodbye kiss, and once the burly figure of your beloved disappeared on the opposite side of the stone bridge you immediately hurried back to the factory in order to get everything what was needed ready for his return...

As Heisenberg suspected this family meeting promised to be unbelievably prolonged, and it seemed to him that it lasted for a whole eternity. For many long hours straight Karl, chewing an unlit cigar, had been sitting on a wide wooden bench inside the cave church and, from time to time heavily sighing and rolling his eyes in irritated manner, listening to the insane dictatorial nonsense of the family head, the poisonous insults of Lady Dimitrescu that she was spitting right in his face, the nasty high-pitched squeal of Donna's creepy porcelain doll and the constant childish whining of Moreau. Not having a single crumb of bread within his stomach since early morning and chilled to the bone, Heisenberg eagerly awaited this freak show to end as soon as possible so that he could come back to the saving walls of his old factory and just forget about this frankly lousy day within your warm comforting embrace.

But to reach his safe refuge the Lord, unfortunately, managed only very late in the evening after he had accomplished to do everything he was strictly ordered to, namely, calmed down the went crazy Lycans in the Stronghold and got rid of the mess in the village workshop. Barely dragging his feet from extreme tiredness, the man, upon entering the bedroom and throwing off his outerwear, with noise flopped down on the shabby leather couch and, closing his eyes, let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he was home.

"Karl? You back?" Your quiet voice delicately interrupted your beloved's welcome respite, making him to open his eyes again, and having noticed your presence in the doorway of the bedroom, he couldn't help but slightly smile.

"Yes, princess. I'm back."

"It's pretty late. You must be very tired and hungry. Let's go to the kitchen! I've made a dinner for us."

"Sounds perfect." And with these words Heisenberg slowly stood up and trudged after you in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hey, what's this?" Karl whistled in surprise, motioning his head towards the kitchen table in the center of which adorned a deliciously smelling fresh apple cake surrounded by many plates with his especially favorite dishes.

"Um, Karl..." From overwhelming excitement all that tremendous speech which you had been composing since the previous day specially for this occasion in a blink evaporated from your memory. "I just...I just wanted to say...um... Here! Happy birthday, darling! Please accept this humble gift from me to you!"

The gaze of the Lord fell on a laying within your palms silver lighter with the engraved on it image of a beautiful steed, which you had bought from the Duke for a rather hefty sum.

"I noticed that you always light cigars with matches, but it seemed to me that for you they are not very comfortable in using. And then i thought maybe a lighter would be more helpful in this case, so..."

From your trembling hands the man took the lighter extremely carefully as if it was made not of metal but of fragile glass.

"All right, sweetheart...You...huh...You cooked all this food, baked this cake, spent your money on this obviously damn expensive thing, and what do you want to tell me? Do you want to tell me that you did all of this...for me?"

"Well...Well yes! Yes, that's right!"

Judjing by his puzzled facial expression, it was safe to say your beloved was truly shocked by everything what's happening right now, and it was no wonder because absolutely nobody in his entire life had ever done even something similar for him.

"So...Why are we still standing? The food is getting cold! Come on! Let's take a sit at the table!"

The blizzard, which had been furiously raging outside throughout the day, little by little, had begun to abate, and out of the snow gloomy clouds appeared the large silvery moon whose tranquil light unobtrusively penetrated through a small window into the kitchen where Heisenberg and you were enjoying the festive meal in each other's company. At your request, Karl told you how the family gathering went, but instead of narrating you about this extremely unpleasant event in a negative way, he started cracking shameless yet hilarious jokes about his hateful siblings, and your contagious laughter, caused by these jokes, after all those disgusting nasties that he had to hear today out acted like a healing balm to his soul.

Suddenly, Gymnopedie No.1 by Erik Satie smoothly played on the radio, and to your mind came a wonderful idea.

"May i have this dance, my Lord?" Playfully smiling, you politely held out the man your hand.

"Sure!" Not even thinking, Heisenberg immediately accepted your invitation to dance. "But i consider it my duty to warn you that i can't dance at all."

"Me too! So i am deeply apologizing in advance for accidentally stepping on your feet a huge number of times!"

In the dimly illuminated by a couple of oil lanterns kitchen both of you were slightly swaying in a slow dance to the soothing sounds of the marvelous melody in each other's arms. Placing his rough hand on your waist, Karl was gradually pulling you closer and closer to his wide sturdy chest, and when you rested your head on his strong shoulder he a bit nuzzled your soft silky hair, inhaling with pleasure its subtle delightful scent.

Fully immersed in the relaxing atmosphere of calmness, at least for tonight the Lord entirely forgot about all of his pressing daily problems the thoughts of which permanently created disorderly chaos in his head, and at this divine moment of complete peacefulness it seemed to him as if in the whole entire world existed only you and only him, silently dancing in this cozy semi-darkness.

After a few short minutes, silence that followed the melted in the air music softly stopped the slow romantic dance of yours, and then you looked up at your beloved just in order to catch him looking back at you with a gaze filled with nothing other than tenderness and adoration.

"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me tonight." Carefully Heisenberg tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Thank me? But...But you shouldn't thank me. I...I haven't really done anything special..." This affectionate gesture in combination with the low tone of his raspy voice made you unavoidably redden like a ripe juicy strawberry. "You deserve this, Karl. You do truly deserve this. You deserve all of this and even more. And if i only could give you this more, believe me, i would gladly do that for you, not awaiting from you anything in exchange because... because i love you too much...that's all..."

"My Buttercup...My kind little Buttercup..." And Karl, upon cupping your face with his hands as gently as he could, placed a kiss on your lips, in sweetness to which, in your opinion, even candied honey could not be compared. You didn't break this adorable kiss to ask the Lord what happened when you noticed a crystal-clear tear rolling down his cheek because for you everything was understandable enough without any words: probably for the first time in his entire life your beloved now was quietly crying with genuine happiness, and from the realization that you managed to fulfill one of the cherished dreams of his you yourself became even more happier than you had already been...

This peaceful night before going to bed Heisenberg decided to go outside in order to have a smoke. With the help of his new lighter Karl easily lighten up a cuban cigar on the very first attempt and contentedly took several deep puffs.

Leisurely savoring the bitter taste of the tobacco smoke, simultaneously the Lord was gazing at the dark nocturnal sky strewn with millions of bright sparkling stars just when one of them at lightning speed was leaving its abode once and for all, and, without hesitation, he quickly made a birthday wish.

It is not difficult to guess what kind of wish your beloved made because more than anything else he truly wished to be with you forever no matter what as for him you doubtelessly were the most priceless gift which he was so lucky to receive from the Universe herself, and to her for such a boundless generousity the man was infinitely grateful.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Day.7 ~ Searching for pumpkins ~ Hallowtober

Dean and Sam x fem!friend!reader (platonic)

warning : fluff, no use of Y/n

summary : Hunting demons and supernaturals in twos is good but it gets boring in the long run, if there are three of you everything is much better and if it means that you also get a delicious pumpkin soup in October it's even better…but if there are no pumpkins, the hunters have to move and hunt them, isn't it clear?

info : My first time writing for the two and even if I was not completely satisfied I hope you like it, have fun and see you next time :)

masterlist

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It was one thing if you liked Halloween, I mean what's not to like? There's autumn, the not quite cold season when you could wrap yourself in a blanket and sit on the couch and enjoy a nice warm cocoa with cream and cinnamon, or a delicious warm fruit punch or roast some marshmallows over the fire with friends and family.

But above all, the autumn from September to October was the best because at the end of autumn, the day before the Christmas season began, Halloween was celebrated, the night of horror and fright, whether in a big or small town, everyone took part.

From the shops that decorated their windows with cobwebs and ghosts where everyone rushed to get something sweet, a costume, drinks and most importantly a pumpkin.

Because the fruit and vegetable was one of the most important parts of the tradition of celebrating Halloween not just as a decoration, a costume or eating pumpkin soup, it was a day when monsters rose and everyone seemed to accept the scary side of the world, an extraordinary day for everyone except…Sam and Dean.

Two brothers who had to deal with this extraordinary world all their lives, because there was no real choice, driven not only by their father but also by the instinct to protect humanity, they did nothing but search and hunt every day, many had joined them on their journey and they had also lost many, but they had also made a friend along the way.

A huntress who had saved the two brothers from a Wendigoo when the three of them were openly searching for the creature after it had killed one of their acquaintances and she had made it her goal to avenge it, simple yet serious.

But more than anything, the three of them had a connection not just on a paranormal level, it was also a connection of lostness and searching so the three of them soon set off together Dean was convinced when he saw the black painted camper and Sam when he heard their movements and the three of them have been inseparable ever since.

When they weren't out looking for clues during the day Dean complained that Sam still worried too much and Sam complained that his brother disrespected him, it was the little arguments, the making up when they found each other in the camper or a shabby motel or in the evening when they had to help each other out of a sitaution.

,,You'll never get rid of us again," she heard Dean say as the door of the caravan opened and she saw the two brown-eyed men come in with bags of food in their hands as they not only had hardly any food left, they also needed some for their pumpkin soup.

She saw the evasive look on Dean's face and Sam seemed quite busy unpacking the food, ,,I hope not…but tell me, where are my pumpkins?" she asked, having already peeled and mashed the potato with the two of them a few hours earlier.

Sam was much more skilful with a peeler than his brother, who stayed to cut the potatoes, whistling as Dean made his way to the back of the caravan and continued to deal with the kitchen roll ghosts he had placed in the caravan, ,,Sorry…listen when we arrived we were all sold out, we left everything but no one had any more pumpkins," Sam finally admitted and gave her an encouraging smile.

A smile she couldn't be angry with for a long time and he was about to make a stupid remark to Dean when she put the knife down and wiped her hands on a dry towel, she reached for her bag and a hunting knife.

,,What's that?" asked Sam, who was probably still puzzling over what to cook for autumn and his brother had already jumped up, ,,Well, what does it look like? Pumpkin hunting of course!" exclaimed Dean and winked at her before Sam joined them with a shake of his head and the three of them set off knowing that there were only wild pumpkins to fetch or well, to “borrow”.

The idea of borrowing came from Dean after he realised that wild pumpkins would mean hours of searching, he promptly looked and found a farm nearby where they were crouched in the bushes waiting like fugitives.

,,How important is the soup to you?" Sam asked, looking anxiously at the field of pumpkins where they saw not only the target but also several guard dogs who didn't look too friendly.

When Dean simply pulled his brother along, she said it would be worth it and watched in amusement as the two of them scampered towards the field for a few moments until they ran back with a shout and the barking and shooting of a shotgun could be heard but the three of them disappeared back into the dark, laughing.

A dark from which they only emerged at the Carvan, laughing and the two pumpkins safe in each other's arms, ,,You're incredible boys," she grinned, wiping her face as she held the door open for the brothers and the two sat down exhausted on the corner of the couch.

,,This better be worth it," Dean muttered, smirking nonetheless as he saw Sam's pained expression, still a little shaken by it all. With the two of them arguing in the background, Friday the 13th on the telly and the smell of soup in the air, she set to work unwrapping the pumpkins, chopping them up and throwing everything into a pot of spices and stock, chatting with the two of them and drinking a couple of sweet punches before the shrill of the alarm clock signalled that the soup was ready.

With a little cream, she drew a spider's web on the soup with a toothpick and placed the bowl down for the two of them and took some for herself, ,,So I hope you enjoy your meal," she said and waited a moment, glancing from left to right as she sat between them and saw the faces of both of them start to smile broadly before she pulled into a squeezing, warm embrace.

,,This is amazing!" Dean exclaimed and took another spoonful of the orange soup and Sam took another sip, ,,You're the best, really," Sam said and she felt the pride inside her as she gave them both a treat on this scary day.

A day on which she was once again happy and grateful for her friendship with the two of them, a day on which every circumstance, every look and every word meant so much more and if she could repay them with such delicious soup, she would make it every day now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[granulesofsand]

Making a list of all things I’m looking forward to about having an apartment. It’ll be a while before we can actually afford one, but it keeps me motivated.

Morning chores make me sick. I know they have to be done with work his many bodies in the room, but having a time limit and little leeway forces me to overwork our body. (We do dishes, tables, and sweep and mop every floor space not behind a door. It’s never clean, but we have permission to only do it once a day — it takes us two hours.)

We can buy our own food. We have food stamps for our area, so we can at least make salads and stuff without getting in trouble. Utilities are something else, but we’re stingy at this point so it should be tolerable (AC and water scare me, but some places include that or estimate the budget).

Laundry. Fair chance that won’t be too soon, but I want to do my laundry whenever I feel like it and not have to drag it to the laundromat every time.

There’s a church around here that helps furnish apartments, so we could probably get something to sleep on soon. The beds here have actual mattresses, but one day we’ll save up and be able to afford our own.

Not having to clean the bathroom every day will also be so nice, provided future roommates aren’t too uptight about it.

Leaving and coming home whenever we want, not having to worry about missing jobs or putting lives at stake cause we just couldn’t make it to work.

Not getting booted for missing chores or not being dressed on time.

I wonder if we could get a microwave. Some places have kitchen areas, and we have our one pot that we defend like it’s made of gold. An oven! Roast meat and baked goods whenever I have the foresight.

We might have a room to ourselves. That would be so nice. We could maybe talk out loud and leave notes for each other. We kinda like sharing a room with multiple bodies, but just one other sets us on edge if we don’t know them. I can think of some other things I’d like to do with our own room.

We would have an income and an address. We could get mail without others going through it, apply for aid, start a savings account — the savings account would be as soon as we had enough money to avoid monthly fees, so probably before an apartment even.

We could have a real budget, maybe even have fun money for coffee and headphones and the like.

We could go to college again! Our plans are always changing on that because we need to be alive to go to school, but a permanent address in this county would enable us to take classes at the community college right here (and we could keep our friends!)

Driving lessons. There’s a place that offers them in the county, but we’ve not had the money for it. Once we have stable housing, we can start saving for goals. A car, eventually!

We’ve had some good interviews lately, and we’ll start applying again Monday. That income is a huge determiner for getting out of here and getting our shit together. Gotta look into the PCP again, find someone who’ll take our insurance. That’ll start the process for (re)documenting our disabilities, which we need for aid and accommodations.

I really want to prepare for apartment life instead of street life. I can see how I want it to come together. Please please please let us get a job soon

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: violence?

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

valor -- woke up today and chose violence

ALSO THE DBH AU IS OUT I KINDA AM OBSESSED WITH IT, HERES THE LINK :)

part twenty-two

❝ VULTURE ❞

MONDAY — JULY 23 — 4:34PM

BENTLEY AND BELLAMY MADE IT BACK TO THE DORM UNSCATHED AND UNSEEN BY ANY WANDERING TYLERS.

When they went through the door, they were greeted by Asten splayed out on one of the couches, dead asleep (figures, since his sleep schedule basically didn’t exist before they moved into Redwood) and Koa was sitting on the bench at the dining table, tying on what looked like a pair of green and gold metal cleats. He was out of his uniform and in a bright orange shirt and shorts. (He seemed to like orange.)

Bentley stole a glance to the bedroom doors, and when he realized they were all open, furrowed his brow. “Where did everybody go?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Koa replied, glancing up at them quickly before looking down at his shoes again. Bentley closed the door behind them and Bellamy made for his bedroom without a word, quickly shutting himself in without a glance back. 

Koa glanced at him, then back at Bentley. “Valor said something about the library, but they never actually go to the library, so…”

Bentley hummed in acknowledgment. The library seemed to be their go-to lie for vanishing into places they shouldn’t have been.

“Varian went to some kind of meeting. I’m pretty sure he’s on the decathlon team this year,” Koa continued with another shrug, pointing to Bellamy’s door. “Is he okay? I thought I heard him ask to go to the nurse earlier.”

Bentley glanced back at Bellamy’s bedroom door. “Yeah, he’s fine. The nurse just had to empty those little machines on his arms.”

“Ah,”

Bentley glanced back at Koa, then went toward the kitchen counter and leaned against it. “Where are you going?”

“I have a little over a month before soccer tryouts,” He replied, tightening his cleats until they looked like they hurt. “And I am absolutely hellbent on becoming the first striker this year. I was second in JV year before last, and second in Varsity last year. Because I’m too small.”

That sort of shocked Bentley, because Koa was at least a few inches taller than him. Did students need to be tall for soccer? “What does a striker do?”

Koa shrugged. “Their only real job is to score goals. Which they’d see I’m good at, if they could look over the fact that I’m short.”

“I think they’re already looking over you, dude,” Asten half-consciously muttered from the couch, and Koa replied by grabbing a rolled up bag of chips off the dining table and lobbing them across the room at him. The bag landed on Asten’s face, who groaned: “Ow.”

“Anyways,” Koa started, glancing back at Bentley. “Tryout practice doesn’t start until the week before September, and the field is fair game until then. So I’m going to practice.”

Bentley didn’t know much about soccer, no, but he was pretty sure it was a team sport. “You’re going to practice alone?”

Koa shrugged. “Yeah. Running drills, shooting goals, that kind of thing. You don’t necessarily need a team for it.”

Bentley didn’t say anything to that, but glanced around the living area. He didn’t really like watching sports, he thought they were boring. He guessed they weren’t very boring for the players, though.

“Are you interested in playing?” Koa questioned suddenly, glancing up at him and finishing up a fancy knot on his cleat, jerking and pulling on it to make sure it didn’t come undone.

“Oh, uh… I’ve… never played anything before,” Bentley replied sheepishly, shrugging and glancing down at his feet. “I doubt I’d be any good.”

“But you didn’t say no,” Koa grinned up at him. “You can come with me, if you want. I think Varian has some old cleats that’ll fit you. What size are you?”

Bentley blinked. “Oh, uh… seven.”

“Nice. Rumor has it I’m a pretty okay teacher -- I taught Varian how to play, and he’s made the team for the last two years,” Koa explained, rising and heading toward his bedroom. “And if you end up not liking it, you don’t have to tryout.”

Bentley said nothing as Koa disappeared from the room. A few moments later, he stuck his head and arm back through the doorway, swinging a pair of smaller green and gold cleats back and forth on his fingertips. There was a gold seven printed on the sole. “You wanna?”

Bentley glanced at Koa, then across the room at Asten, who (seemed) asleep enough to offer him no guidance. Bentley looked back at Koa and blinked. He was pretty sure Duke played soccer for a short time in highschool. Pretty much everyone at Redwood had, like, a thing -- like Asten and music, or Layla and theater. 

How was he supposed to find his thing if he didn’t try stuff?

With a sigh and a shrug, Bentley relented. “Sure. But I don’t want to waste your time if I’m no good.”

“Nah. Teaching is a really good way for me to fine-tune my skills,” He replied, tossing the cleats to Bentley, who only barely caught them. “I might suggest changing out of your uniform, though.”

Bentley smiled lightly. “I can’t imagine soccer would be much fun in a tie and blazer.”

“It’s not, trust me,”

With a snicker, Bentley made for his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

(He sort of hoped soccer was really easy.)

--

There were twelve soccer fields at Redwood Academy. Twelve, all a vibrant green sod with pinpoint straight white lines, varying in size for… the ages of the players, Bentley assumed? He knew Redwood had younger kids, too, even if he didn’t cross paths with them on campus. What else would the little fields be for?

Much to his disdain, Koa was leading him to the biggest ones of the bunch. There were only two other students out there, practicing together, but they were on a field opposite to the one Koa was heading toward -- thankfully. Above them, the sky was a happy blue with white, fluffy clouds, the sun beating down on them like a spotlight.

Koa was now carrying a blue duffle bag that Bentley could probably lay inside of without bending his knees, so full the zipper looked to be on its last leg. He’d grabbed it out of an equally struggling locker in one of the, like, twenty-seven locker rooms that were stationed near the fields. Around them, which Koa had explained while pointing in various directions, were lacrosse fields (Rockie played that, he’d said. Bentley was pretty sure that's where kids beat each other with sticks.), tennis courts (Summer played that.), football fields (Valor got banned from playing that after he knocked players out with his wings. Four times. It wasn’t an accident.), baseball fields, softball fields, and golf courses in the distance. He also said that the cross country and track courses weaved around the entire area, but mainly looped around the football fields. (There were three. Bentley didn’t know why.)

The walk, which had to be at least ten minutes long, also included conversation about the indoor courts, like basketball, and hockey, (which Koa also played. He explained to Bentley how he had to manage his time because soccer season and hockey season overlapped. Bentley didn’t understand it. He was also salty about some of the figure skating girls using their rink when their own was locked. Vera was a figure skater, he said.) There was also volleyball, wrestling, fencing, and a whole bunch of other sports Bentley sort of zoned out for. Koa also did fencing, which was apparently sword-fighting? Fencing season was at the same time as hockey season and also overlapped with soccer, which Koa said was the most stressful time of the year for him. Bentley was pretty sure he would’ve literally died if he tried to play that many sports at once.

Finally, they arrived, though, and Koa dropped the massive duffle bag on the grass on the edge of the field with a thunk. “Okay, first things first -- we need to stretch so we don’t hurt ourselves. Just do what I do.”

Bentley nodded in quiet agreement, matching Koa’s funky leg stretches the best he could. 

“Would you say you’re pretty fast?” Koa questioned, glancing up at Bentley as they did this weird thing where they pulled their foot up toward their back and twisted. Bentley shrugged. He supposed he had experience running for his life, but that was about it.

“Maybe. I’m not sure,” He replied. Koa did the same stretch on his other leg, and Bentley copied him.

“Hm. You’re small. If you're fast, they’ll probably put you on offense, which will be more dribbling, passing, scoring. That's what I do. The… slower kids are usually defending the goal. That would be more focused on, like… one v. one footwork and such. But it's good to be good at everything,” Koa explained with a shrug, his seafoam green eyes flicking across the field, looking greener amidst all the vibrant sod. “The only position I’d say I'm particularly horrendous at is goalkeeper. That's where being small sucks.”

Bentley nodded in agreement, sending a glance to the massive white goal near the corner they were in. “Yeah, I’d say I take up, like, one sixteenth of that.”

“Yeah. My advice would be… not to go out for goalie,” Koa replied with a  snicker. “Hockey, though -- the goals are small, so it’s way easier to be one there.”

Bentley smiled lightly. This was just about the most he’d heard Koa talk since he met him — he found it sort of interesting that he seemed to light up the same way talking about sports as he lit up when he saw Summer coming into class. 

He took Bentley through a few more warm ups, including impossible looking stretches and drills, one of which was Bentley having to run backwards. (Thankfully, he didn’t bust his butt, which would’ve been vaguely humiliating.) 

Right after they finished warming up, someone else joined them on the other end of the field.

He was wearing a dark green shirt with a number nine on the back, and above that nine was the last name Abbott.

Koa rolled his eyes as soon as he saw him approach with his solid white soccer ball, his ocean-y irises staying trained on Tyler as he began to kick it into the goal opposite from where they were.

“I swear, he stalks me or something,” Koa grumbled, moving for the massive duffle bag and unzipping it. “You wouldn’t believe who I’ve been fighting for first striker for the last two years. I’ll give you one guess.”

Bentley glanced across the field at Tyler, who kicked a really long, sort of sideways shot into the goal.

“His dad’s the coach, believe it or not,” Koa shook his head. “I’m pretty sure it’s rigged.”

“I hope the apple falls far from the tree,”  Bentley murmured, and Koa shrugged, pulling out two black and green soccer balls from the bag.

“Besides the obvious favoritism, I think he’s pretty nice,” Koa said, tossing a ball over toward Bentley. “Let's start with some passing and dribbling.”

Bentley wasn’t sure what dribbling was outside of basketball, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to touch a soccer ball with his hands.

“Dribbling is just you moving the ball across the field,” Koa continued, answering his unspoken question. “For the most part, you’re not going to kick from your toe, which is what a lot of people automatically do. It’s sort of hard to control the ball that way. What you’re going to do is kick from here-“ He reached down and tapped the forward left side of Bentley’s cleat. “-and here.” He tapped on the laces. “I’m going to back up, and I want you to pass it to me. So you can get a feel for power and direction. Start with the inside of your foot.”

“Okay…” Bentley replied. Koa moved a little ways across the field, turning to face him. 

“I shoot better when I’m looking where I want the ball to go, but it’s fine if you wanna watch it, since you just started,” He explained. “Go ahead.”

Bentley glanced down at the soccer ball, then at his foot, then at Koa. 

Well, he guessed he should kick it, then.

He glanced across the field at Tyler, who shot another ball into the goal and attempted to copy his technique, taking a running step before kicking the ball in Koa’s direction.

Much to his surprise, it went almost perfectly to him.

“Nice!” Koa called as he stopped the ball under his cleat. “Get ready to stop it!”

Bentley kept his eye on the ball when Koa kicked it back to him, stopping it under his foot just like he did.

For the next two hours, until the sun was low in the sky, Koa used Bentley as a human target to unleash every ounce of soccer knowledge onto like some kind of rapid fire grenade launcher, and Bentley followed and listened along carefully. Tyler stayed on the other end of the field, and never spoke. Bentley was starting to believe maybe he really was just going to practice and leave them alone.

Until it became obvious that he wasn’t, in the most terrifyingly abrupt way possible.

Right when Bentley was getting ready to kick the ball to Koa, a solid white ball came absolutely flying across the field at what had to be, like, a thousand miles per hour. Bentley only saw it for a split second before it nailed Koa directly in the head with a wham, flattening him on the grass instantly.

Bentley’s mouth fell open, and he quickly abandoned his post to jog across the field with a quiet: “Oh my God.”

“Oops, didn’t see you there, McClaine! Maybe I would’ve if you’d grow a foot or two!”

Bentley hardly spared a glance to Tyler (though he did see the smug little look he had on his face that made Bentley kind of want to drown him.) as he jogged across the field, crouching down next to Koa, who was already working on pulling himself off the ground. 

“Be careful, move slow,” Bentley said, grabbing him by the shoulders and helping him sit back on his knees. Koa glanced around, greenish eyes sort of unfocused and dazed in a way that was all too unsettling. His left brow was split and spattered with blood that was alarmingly close to his eye. “Koa?”

His gaze came to rest on Bentley, still looking dazed in a way that was sort of freaking him out. His breathing was shaky and kind of stunned. “M’ okay.”

“You’re bleeding,”

“…I’m okay,” 

Bentley glanced over his shoulder at Tyler, who was watching them with a triumphant look on his face like he’d done something worthwhile. Bentley shook his head and glanced back at Koa, trying to dredge up the years worth of what Afred does when one of them gets hit really hard in the head knowledge he had somewhere in his subconscious.

“He hit you really hard,” Bentley tried, still holding onto his shoulders like he might fall over if he let go. “Do you-“

“I’m fine, Bentley,” He reassured, glancing from Bentley to the solid white ball that had settled a few yards from them. There was blood on it. “I’m okay.”

Bentley looked back at Tyler, who was watching them with one hip cocked to the side, blank faced.

Koa pushed himself off the ground, and Bentley hovered hesitantly, keeping a close eye on him as he moved and grabbed Tyler’s ball.

“Hey, what’re you doing with that?” Tyler grumbled.

Koa said nothing, but moved for his duffle bag. Bentley watched in silence as he fished out a little pack of needles (maybe for deflating his ball if he needed to?) and stabbed, like, twelve of them all around the soccer ball like a pincushion.

“Hey! What the hell, McClaine?!”

Tyler started stalking across the field like an angry boar, and Koa stood up and tossed the ball a few feet in the air, kicking it so hard it flew into the next field. He then bent down all nonchalant like and started packing up his stuff.

Bentley glanced back at Tyler, who was crossing the halfway line of the field, looking pretty much like he was about to murder someone. 

Bentley looked down at the grass under them. If he listened close enough he could hear the water seeping through the earth below, and with a glance up at Tyler (who was getting pretty close now.) he started making it crawl up toward the surface.

“You think you’re the good guy, McClaine? Not acknowledging me, what? To be the bigger man?” Tyler questioned, closing in on Koa and ignoring Bentley completely. “I’ll show you what being the bigger man really means.”

When Tyler got within ten feet of Koa, water sprung up and out of the grass like a striking snake, tangling around his left leg and sending him face-first into the dirt with a thud.

“I don’t think the bigger man is the one with mud on his face,” Koa replied, grabbing his bag and standing up. “Come on, Bentley.”

With one last look at Tyler, Bentley and Koa made for the locker rooms, and Bentley didn’t let Tyler go until they were far out of his reach.

The Redwood Academy locker rooms were much like the school — with fancy wooden wainscoting, nice light fixtures. The only thing different about them was the floor. It was a perfected, polished concrete instead of hardwood; easier to clean.

Koa groaned as he stopped in front of his locker, typing in a code on the keypad. “He makes me want to commit arson. But like, on his face.”

Bentley said nothing, but watched Koa open the locker and shove the massive bag inside.

“He… seems to despise you in particular,” Bentley stated, glancing at the door they’d come through.

Koa shrugged, closing the locker door and shoving it to make sure it actually closed. “It’s because of soccer. He decided last year that he was going to channel all his energy into being my rival.”

Bentley hummed, still watching the entrance in case Tyler were to come in. “I guess he’s threatened by you.”

“I guess. I wouldn’t mind, like, if he wanted to be a rival that didn’t beat me up and stuff. But he just-”

Koa paused, and Bentley watched the door for another second before glancing over to him.

Koa was facing him now, looking… kind of at him but, like… through him? Past him? His green eyes flicked around but didn’t really focus on anything, and he held his arms out with a sort of horrified expression on his face. “Bentley.”

“Koa?” Bentley replied, stepping forward and grabbing his arms where they were outstretched. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t…” He looked around the room frantically with dull, empty eyes, blinking rapidly.

“Koa?”

“I can’t see,” He muttered, grabbing Bentley’s arms in a death grip. “Bentey, I… I can’t see. I can’t see anything.”

Bentley moved closer to look at Koa’s eyes, but they looked normal, apart from being unfocused. “You can’t see?”

“I can’t see anything! It’s just black,” He stammered, gripping his arms tighter, and Bentley heard his heartbeat skyrocketing in the back of his mind. “Bentley.”

“It’s okay,” Was what he said even though it wasn’t, even though losing your vision after getting hit in the head wasn’t okay in the slightest. “I’ve got you. I’ll take you to the-”

Suddenly Bentley’s arms weighed like a hundred pounds, and that was because Koa, who was holding onto them, was falling over.

“Koa!”

Bentley pulled on his arms in what would’ve had to have been an uncomfortable way (if he were conscious, which he wasn’t, oh my God.) in order to keep his head from hitting the concrete. Water exploded out of the nearby sinks and showers, crawling across the floor at a breakneck speed, bubbling up beneath his unconscious form and lowering him gently down onto the floor.

Lots of things went through Bentley’s head: an endless string of oh my God, then the urge to cry, the willpower it took not to cry, the thought of calling out for his dad, and then, finally, a little bit of common sense that had him kneeling down next to him.

The water crawled back to where it came from as Bentley channeled his inner Bruce-ified first aid training (He and Dick decided he needed it since he nearly died every other week.) and tugged Koa onto his side, into recovery position. Then he whipped his phone out (Geez, his hands were shaking so bad it was kinda embarrassing.) and called one of the first people to show up on his text page.

It rang. It rang.

“What’s up, Red-”

“I need Summer,” Was what he blurted, lifting Koa’s head slightly, looking at the bloody spot on it.

“Summer?” Vera questioned, sounding a little miffed. “Why are you calling me about needing Summer?”

“Koa got hit in the head really hard… he was fine for a little bit, but then he said he couldn’t see, and he just passed out. Please, tell Summer,”

“Oh, God,” He heard shuffling on the other end. “Oh, Jesus, okay. Okay, where are you?”

“We’re in one of the locker rooms near the soccer fields,” Bentley replied. “Tyler Abbott just had to show up.”

“Is he still there?” Vera questioned, and more shuffling sounds came. Her voice came again, though it was quiet, like she wasn’t talking to him: “-said Koa got hit in the head and passed out-”

“Tyler? He might still be on the fields, but he isn't in here,” Bentley replied, glancing up at the door for a split second before looking back at Koa.

He heard Vera sigh lightly. “Summer wants to talk to you. No -- just take the phone. Take it with you and go.”

There was more shuffling, and a few noises, maybe a door. “Bentley, can you hear me?” It was Summer’s voice now.

“Yes,”

“Check to see if he’s breathing, or if his heart is beating,” She started. The loud noise of wind against the microphone came from her side of the phone -- she must’ve been moving fast. 

Bentley listened closely for Koa’s heartbeat, steady and strong, thankfully. His breathing was normal, too. “He is.”

“What?”

“He is!” He replied, louder. “But he isn’t waking up.”

“Put him on his side -- see if he responds to touch or sound or anything,” Summer replied, nearly drowned out by more wind sounds.

Bentley, having already put his recovery position knowledge to good use, tapped Koa on the shoulder. “Koa, can you hear me?”

He got a faint groan in response.

Summer’s voice came: “Did he respond?”

“Yeah, just a groan,”

“Okay. We’re almost there -- Valor is flying me because it's way faster than walking,” She replied. “Just keep trying to stimulate him -- keep touching him and talking to him.”

Bentley did what he was told, following all of Summer’s instructions until, finally, the locker room door came flying open, and she hurried in with Valor right on her tail. She was in the same outfit as earlier, even with the slipper-like shoes, and Valor was still in his uniform. Bentley promptly moved out of Summer’s way when she approached, sitting on her knees beside Koa and checking his breathing and such for herself.

“What did you say happened?” She questioned, glancing back at Bentley for only half a second.

“Tyler kicked a soccer ball at his head. He was fine after it happened, but when we got in here, he told me he couldn’t see. Then he passed out,”

Bentley watched quietly as Summer touched Koa in several places on his head, before she inhaled. “He has a subdural hematoma. I can heal it.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Valor questioned, settling into the space next to Bentley, crossing his arms.

Summer glanced back at them. “He was hit so hard that his brain started bleeding.”

Bentley blinked.

He was hit so hard that his brain started bleeding.

“How do you know that?” Valor continued, and Summer put both of her hands on Koa’s temples. 

“I can just… tell what's wrong when I touch someone,” She replied, pushing her brownish blonde hair out of her eyes. Then she got this really focused look on her face, like she had in the hallway when she healed Bentley. “Now, stop talking to me.”

Bentley watched closely as she placed her hands in various positions along Koa’s head. He didn’t even realize how much he’d been shaking and how heavy he was breathing until Valor touched his shoulder with a quiet: “You okay?”

He glanced over at him, catching his concerned gray eyes for only a second before he looked back over at Koa and Summer. “Mhm.”

Bentley felt Valor’s gaze remain on his face for a few quiet moments, then his hand moved from Bentley’s shoulder to the top of his head and just rested there. (In a real big brother, Dick-Grayson-like-way, if Bentley were being honest. He was pretty sure Dick’s incessant need to touch his head had given him a soft spot for it. It always seemed to help him calm down quicker than anything else.)

Summer continued to move her hands around on Koa’s head gently, and one long, grueling minute later, his eyes flitted open.

He looked around to gather his bearings. His eyes rested on Summer, then traced his surroundings, moving from Valor, to Bentley, to down at himself. “What happened?”

Summer sighed in relief, sitting down with her back against the lockers. “You got hit in the head. But it's fine, I fixed it.”

Koa opened his mouth to say something else, but then a loud, familiar voice boomed from outside the locker room: “You’re going to regret what you did to my ball, McClaine!”

Bentley felt himself stiffen, and Koa looked at the door, an expression of mere disdain crossing his features. Valor’s hand left Bentley’s head and he took a few steps closer to the door, his platinum wings twitching on his back in a way that reminded Bentley of an angry bull kicking the dirt.

Tyler swung the door open so hard it slammed into the wall behind it, storming inside, obviously not expecting company. The presence of two other people threw him off just enough for Valor to get an opening -- Bentley flinched when he grabbed Tyler by the throat and shoved him into nearby lockers so hard the doors dented behind him with a massive crash. His hands flew up to his throat, but Valor’s hand couldn’t be moved.

(He had super strength, Bentley remembered.)

“Get off of me!” Tyler exclaimed, but Valor stayed still, expression almost nonchalant, blank as the bully clawed and grappled at the hand that was keeping him pinned down. “Let go of me, bird boy!” 

Tyler swung for Valor’s face, but the hit was easily deflected by his other hand. 

“I suggest you leave my roommates the hell alone,” Valor stated, his accent somehow becoming a lot more intimidating than it had been.

Tyler let out a strangled laugh. “What’re you gonna do, huh? Kill me? Beat me senseless?”

“You’re the one throwing out suggestions,” Valor shrugged, his massive wings batting on his back and making a loud noise. (Did he do that on purpose, or did they do it on their own? Or was it, like, a subconscious instinct kind of thing? Bentley was curious about that.) Tyler flinched at the wings’ loud noise.

“Okay, okay, fine! Get off of me!”

Bentley, Summer, and Koa watched in complete silence as Valor released Tyler’s throat, and the two stared at each other for a solid ten seconds. (Bentley noticed that Valor was taller than him.)

With a huff of frustration, Tyler threw his hands up, eyes flicking across the room at the other three before looking back at Valor. “Someone call animal control -- tell ‘em we’ve got a vulture problem.”

And with that (because apparently that statement made him feel cool.), he left the locker room and slammed the door behind him.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[realm-sweet-realm]

N's Journey, chapter 5

After having his worldview crushed at the end of BW, N leaves home and attempts to put himself back together and find his place in the world.

This is the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who has read this story up to this point. I really appreciate it.

-

“And, that’s it. That’s how you pay your electric bill. Once you’ve saved up a little more, you could get your own place if you wanted.”

“Wow. Thank you,” N said. “I was starting to think I’d never learn to live like a human, but here I am!”

Evelyn clapped him on the back. “You just hadn’t been taught,” she said. “Well, I’ll be in the garden if you need me.”

“Got it.”

N took to the couch and turned on the TV, Zoroark joining him and snuggling his head in his lap.

This is what it is to be human, N thought. I really can do it. Maybe not as well as others could- he didn’t have a single human friend, and he still wouldn’t know how to function outside of this little bubble where he could use his skills and have Evelyn guide him through any new challenge that came along- but he was doing it.

N started flipping through channels- catching up on shows he wasn’t allowed as a kid wasn’t as exciting as reading the books that were forbidden to him, but it was still nice. The first channel was a drama N wasn’t fond of. He switched it over to home improvement show. A talk show with Diantha and her costars for a new movie. The news. A cooking show.

N flipped back to the news. He thought he’d saw- but it couldn’t be. It was the plasma emblem. Yes, it was- the screen showed five Team Plasma members, all in new, military-looking uniforms, blocking a path N thought he recognized as route 3.

“It seems that Team Plasma has made a resurgence,” the blonde news anchor explained. “Five members were seen today creating a blockade on a commonly used road. The police were able to break up the blockade before any real harm was done. A far cry from the mystery that defined the group before, these grunts have been very open about their team’s goal: to take over all of Unova.”

N prayed that these five, now being escorted away by the police, were the only members of Team Plasma that remained. If not… Could he justify staying here? Or was it his duty to return to Unova and try to put a stop to this?

Unfortunately, in the coming weeks, news stories of Team Plasma kept cropping up. After he encountered the second, N began to keep track of them. One night, N watched on the news as a female Team Plasma grunt ripped a woobat from a little girl’s arms and kicked her down. Evelyn touched his arm reassuringly as he flinched.

On nights with particularly bad headlines, N would leave the house for his little rebellions, or just to ride on Reshiram and talk to it.

I’m sorry to say this, Reshiram told N one night, but I sensed Ghetsis in the giant chasm. If Team Plasma manages to capture Kyurem, they could conquer all of Unova. I must return to Unova. And I’d prefer if you came with me.

N ought to be many things- terrified of Ghetsis, devastated that he’d have to leave his life behind- but he’d used up those feelings on anticipation. There was nothing left but numb acceptance. “I’ll come,” N replied. “It’s the right thing to do. Maybe if their king told the Team Plasma members to stop, they’d stop, and whatever Ghetsis was doing could be prevented.

The morning after the conversation with Reshiram, he shuffled into the kitchen, doing his best to look tired and out of it. He touched Evelyn on the shoulder as she was making breakfast.

“I don’t want to go in today,” N said. “I’m sick.”

Evelyn put a hand against N’s forehead. “No fever. You’re fine,” she said. “Come on, take some coffee and painkillers and let’s get ready to go.”

“No. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it today.”

“Alright, fine. See you tonight, N,” Evelyn said, sounding mildly disappointed.

N shuffled back to bed and waited for the sound of the front door closing. When it did, he got up and started packing his things. He had some new outfits now, bought with the money he’d earned as a ranger. He packed a few of them, his alarm clock, his books, some basic supplies, and thought about what else he might need. He couldn’t justify taking food from Evelyn when he was able to buy his own, as much as he’d miss some of the foods she’d made or grown fresh in her garden. As much as part of him wanted to take his ranger uniform as a keepsake, somehow that felt wrong, too. “Goodbye,” N said to the house as he descended its ladder.

As risky as it was to go through the woods when his fellow ranger might see him, he had one more stop before he left- the mightyena den where Zoroark now spent most of his nights.

Zoroark was right outside the den, gnawing on a bone as he watched two poochyna tussle. As N appeared through the brush, Zoroark dropped the bone and lopped over.

You seem sad, Zoroark said, sniffing around to try and figure out why. What happened?

“I’m leaving for Unova,” N said, unable to meet Zoroark’s eyes. “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

Zoroark’s ears drooped, and it stayed silent for a long time. Y’know, I get it. Why this is hard for you, I mean. I can pretend I’m a fish, but I still need to breathe air. Zoroark turned into a feebas to demonstrate. I can pretend I’m a bird, but I can’t fly. Zoroark turned into a starly. He looked like he was flying, but N knew it was smoke and mirrors, his feet on the ground. He couldn’t pretend to fly higher than his own height. I can turn into a human, Zoroark said, turning into what looked like N, but I can’t speak. The human illusion was mouthing the words, but the animal noises that came out of it couldn’t have been understood by any other person. Finally, Zoroark turned back into himself. All I can be is me. And, since I was abandoned by my pack, I never had a place I could do that until, well…

N braced himself. So Zoroark really has found his place here, he thought. Why would he want to go back?

…until I met you, Zoroark said. I’ll stay with you, N. Always.

N hugged Zoroark. “Thank you,” he said.

N hiked down the trapper’s trail. Zoroark darted left and right, following N’s request that he use his keen eyesight to tear apart every trap he saw and to leave the pieces. N could have had Reshiram incinerate them, but he wouldn’t. He just marched forward, the sound of snapping wood mixing with the sounds of the forest and the occasional thankful cry of a Pokémon. When he reached the end of the path, he let out Reshiram. Riding upon the mighty beast, N went to a number of locations- farms, research labs, and the like- releasing the Pokémon he’d been unable to save before and leaving before he could be noticed or caught. Once he’d released the captives of the last location he could think of, he turned back to Reshiram and mounted it, his eyes wet with tears. “To Unova,” N requested. Reshiram lifted off.

-

It was a little under two years ago. N sat in his hair-brushing chair and tried to steady his breathing as Ghetsis groomed him for what would be the last time in a while. Images of abusive humans and abused, aggressive Pokémon ran through his head. He was about to set off on his journey through the treacherous world beyond the four walls of his room, and he knew it would mean danger.

In his nervousness, N cringed suddenly, causing Ghetsis to pull his hair.

"Still, my boy," Ghetsis reminded him, his voice gentle.

"Sorry," N said. Ghetsis had been gentle with him lately. Part of it was because N had learned to behave impeccably, but N liked to think that part of it was because, with what lie ahead, Ghetsis wanted to make him feel safe for a while. And N did feel safe. He was glad that he'd grown his hair out down to his waist so that he could enjoy Ghetsis' presence and his gentle hands just a bit longer.

"There. You're all done," Ghetsis said finally.

N rose from his seat, slung the messenger bag of essentials over his shoulder, and walked solemnly to the door of his room. When he reached the door, he stopped. "I'll see you again, right? After my quest?" he asked nervously.

N could hear Ghetsis' footsteps and his cane tapping the ground as he drew nearer. He put a hand on N's shoulder.

"Yes. You are important to me. I wouldn't ask something of you that you couldn't do. Now go and fulfill the prophecy, N. We will meet again, and I will always be what guides your life."

"Thank you," N said.

N took a deep breath. Then, he opened the door and stepped out into the world- a world brighter and friendlier than he'd ever been taught to believe. A world that made Ghetsis' promise seem more like a threat, even before N found out the truth about team plasma.

-

Even if he'd never met Evelyn, even with all of N's struggles with independence, N would rather spend a million nights freezing in his tent or struggling to connect with humans than to let Ghetsis rule him again. And the thought of Ghetsis no longer wanting him- of wanting to dispose of him- that terrified him even more.

Sensing N’s sadness, Reshiram looked back at N as it soared over the forests and towns.

N… You might feel as though you’ve made no progress at all, like your journey is ending right where you began. But I’ve seen you grow on this journey. You’ve learned so many human skills. I promise, once you are free from Team Plasma again- if you are free from them again- it will be easier. It will be easier each time until we succeed. I promise.

N let his tears fall on Reshiram’s fluffy white pelt and prayed it was right.

“Thank you,” he said.

[animefu]

Pokémon Horizons - The Sudden Turn (Part 8)

Characters: Amethio, Liko, Friede, Orla

Pokémon: Ceruledge, Corviknight, Sprigatito

What happened earlier:

The black and silver-haired boy sighed heavily. Apparently the time had really come to face up to his past and make a fresh start. With a determined look on his face, he turned his full attention to the entire group.

~~~

"It all started eight years ago. My mum was pregnant with my little sister at the time. I was still totally shy and rebellious, like every boy my age. Back then... I didn't even know that I had a father. It was only after he suddenly turned up and said he wanted to help look after the family. When I asked mum one evening why she'd never told me about him... She told me that he was extremely controlling before I was born... She wasn't allowed to leave the house alone, always had to dance to his tune... Me... It was just awful to hear how such a person could be with her." the teenager now reported and his tension was clearly noticeable among Friede, Liko and Rory. They all looked at each other in silence for a moment before listening to the 16-year-old's next words.

"But when he suddenly turned up at our house... It seemed to me that he wasn't the man she had told me about before. Father seemed really nice, obliging... He also had the occasional witty remark. I really liked that about him," he continued.

"So we were a normal family at the beginning. But then... Came the accident with Milu's death... A world collapsed for my mum and me... It didn't leave my father unscathed either. But... After he got wind of it... Everything just went downhill... " Amethio paused again to take a deep breath.

"Some time after Milu's funeral, he turned his back on me completely. He only saw me as a nuisance, a disgrace, that I wasn't able to protect my sister well enough. Then... One day he simply disappeared without leaving even the slightest message. My mum couldn't bear to have lost him too, because despite what had happened, she still loved him." The former Explorer Admin had to fight hard not to suddenly lose control of his emotions. But he was determined to finish the story.

"Then one morning I suddenly heard our housekeeper screaming. I immediately went down to the kitchen and... I saw mum lying dead on the floor... She had slit her wrists. Of course I was completely beside myself, I screamed, why her too, wasn't that enough with Milu? After... Then the police and the emergency services took my mum out of the flat."

"That same evening I just ran away and lived on the street for a while, about two months. During that time, I met a Charcadet in a park and helped him look for berries to eat. Before that, I already knew about the whole phenomenon of Pokémon Trainers and catching wild Pokémon to build a bond with them."

"In the end, I caught Charcadet as my first Pokémon and also found my first real friend in him. I was already 13 years old at the time. After we had been roaming around for a while, I finally met Hamber, who had been looking for me on behalf of my father. It was only then that I found out about the existence of the Explorers and what this organisation was all about. At least almost," he continued his story.

"Since I didn't have anyone except Charcadet, I just went with Hamber, who was my father's butler. Then I saw him again after all this time and learnt that he had founded the Explorers shortly after my mother's death in order to get to a certain place. I don't know exactly which one. At first, of course, I wasn't very positive about him, as he had simply made a cowardly escape shortly after my mother had taken her own life. But he immediately influenced me, convinced me that I was the key to his goal and that he was the only family member I still had. So... I eventually started working for the Explorers and carrying out a wide variety of missions. Some time after I joined, I then got Zir and Conia as my two henchmen to help me become more successful. That 'Gibeon' had only used me in this whole affair... I simply ignored it, I was far too blinded by my ambition to succeed. At some point, I finally learnt about this mysterious pendant and that I had to get it at all costs. Gibeon never told me the real reason. Only that I shouldn't disappoint him, otherwise I would be condemned to live on the streets again as an outsider, a lonely soul. So from then on, I trained day after day to get stronger in order to not ever disappoint my father. "

"During this time, I also met the other members of the Explorers and caught a Rockidee as my second Pokémon shortly after as well, which later evolved into Corviknight, just like Ceruledge before it... From then on, I swore to always be fair to the Explorers and never let my father down!!! But in the end, everything turned out quite differently..." With this sentence, the teenager finished the entire story and went back into silence for the time being.

~~~

After everyone present had listened to everything from beginning to end, there was no recognisable reaction at first. Until Liko finally stepped closer to the 16-year-old's side, as did Friede. "Oh Amethio... I... I don't know what to say..." It was simply true, there was just far too much information for the girl to process at the moment.

The former Explorer Admin puffed in response, only partially amused. "It's okay, it's not necessary for you to understand... No one did before, after all." he mumbled, again wearing an emotionless look, but Liko reflexively raised her hands.

"Oh no, no, please don't take this the wrong way! I understand very well. The only thing is that I can't really understand... Why you didn't talk to us, to me, from the beginning." the 13-year-old mumbled in a tender yet concerned voice. "Why didn't you open up to us as soon as you brought me back to the ship? Then... Things might have been less complicated, you know?"

"Oh, what do you know? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for someone to be used by their OWN father as a puppet for his machinations, while he doesn't give a damn shit about, how his son feels about the whole thing?"

"And apart from that, you were my enemies, do you hear me, E. N. E. M. I. E. S. Just imagine if it were the other way round. You would be following me at every turn, only to tell me out of the blue about my past after I inevitably had to help you, because otherwise you would have died and that would have made it difficult for me to fulfil my mission!!! Shove that up your skull, Liko!!!" he said in a somewhat sharper tone, but immediately regretted this behaviour when he noticed how Liko stepped away from him out of slight fear.

He sighed heavily in response. Amethio really should learn to keep his emotions under control. Carefully, he took a step forwards this time and gently took his girlfriend's hands in his own. "Hey, Honey... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so abusive. Please forgive me, that wasn't right."

He ran his hands through his two-coloured hair in shame for a moment and finally just breathed an apologetic kiss onto the young Trainer's hairline before he simply hugged her from behind and pressed her tightly against him. "The reason is simple, I was just afraid that you would all mock and laugh at me, that you wouldn't believe me... I... I was just too afraid of the situation. That's all." the teenager mumbled meekly, burying his nose in Liko's soft hair.

The girl sighed heavily and then finally put her hands on his arms. "It's all right, I'm not angry with you. After all, you had your reasons. Just... I would have really liked it if you had told me straight away. You know, then we could have saved ourselves all this fuss." she murmured, leaning against his warm chest.

The 16-year-old didn't say anything at first, but instead distanced himself from his girlfriend. Friede now took a few steps forwards and looked at his rival with an initially indefinable expression on his face.

Then the leader of the Rising Volt Tacklers placed a hand on his shoulder, completely unexpectedly for the teen. So it was not surprising that he greeted this gesture with a raised eyebrow.

"Amethio... I wouldn't wish what happened to you on anyone. What you had to go through... I can actually empathise with your situation, more than you might think. I went through something similar shortly after Yuki's death. But I quickly learnt to deal with it. And you can be sure you'll manage it too. With Liko's and our help. You are no longer alone. You have real friends now." he said, smiling broadly as the others joined in.

"Friede is right. And apart from that, I found it really boring hanging around here with the same people all the time. Now there's finally some fresh energy in the crew again." Roy said, adding a little 'serenade' with Fuecoco.

Liko grimaced slightly in amusement at this. After all, everyone on board knew how... Well, to put it mildly, her friend's preference was 'special', but nobody ever made anything of it. It was simply Roy's way and that wasn't going to change.

"Now that we have clarified this matter so far, let's get back to the essentials. After all, this is still a party, isn't it? Come on, let's have some more fun." Orla said, jumping up in the air with joy, whereupon the others just burst out laughing. Yes, even Amethio. Which I'm sure no one could ever have imagined before.

~~~

So on that note, the small celebration continued, and it became clear that Amethio was becoming more and more resigned to the fact that he was no longer under pressure from his father. Out of the corner of his eye, he even saw his Pokémon frolicking with the other Pokémon on the ship, although Ceruledge seemed to be taking great care not to accidentally injure anyone with its blades. This scene was just extremely cute to watch.

Corviknight, on the other hand, had simply laid down in a sunny spot to doze. The black and silver-haired was simply very happy to have the two of them by his side. Just like Zir and Conia.

Both of them now came to their boss as he was talking to Liko and making a few little jokes with her. "Ehem, sorry. But would you mind if we had a quick word with Amethio-sir in private, Miss Liko?"

The girl in question looked at the two of them sympathetically and nodded briefly at Amethio. "Of course, take as much time as you need. And please just call me Liko. Now that we're practically on the same side, we don't have to be so formal anymore, do we?" She giggled briefly and left the trio alone.

Amethio looked after his lover for a moment before turning his attention back to his two henchmen. "What's up? What do you want to talk about?"

They both looked at each other uncertainly for a moment. Obviously, they didn't really know how to start the conversation. "Well, it's like this... Now that you have a real family... You certainly don't need us any more. After all, we were only ever together with the Explorers and never... Outside of them... And with the current situation... We're probably just a burden for you because we can't support you like we used to." Conia said, scratching her arm the whole time. It was probably not easy for her to bring this up.

The teenager blinked irritably at her words. "And why do you think I think I don't need you after what happened? Do I look like I would repel you if you decide you no longer want to be under the service of the Explorers like I did?"

Zir also looked relatively uncomprehending. "Wait, what do you mean? So you're saying...?"

The 16-year-old sighed briefly and ran his fingers through his hair, then put on an unusually gentle expression. "Just because you decide against your previous life doesn't mean I would reject you both. On the contrary, I'm actually grateful that you're going to stay with me. You've always cheered me up when I've felt bad about Spinel's teasing or felt like a failure because I couldn't complete another mission. During all this time, you were the only ones who always stood by me and always had an open ear. I've never had all this support from anyone before." he said and actually had to fight back tears.

"What I just want to say... You are not a burden or a nuisance to me. You are my friends, family. And I simply don't know what I would do without you... I... I would just feel so incredibly empty. That's why I'm asking you. Please continue to give me your strength. " he breathed and actually began to tremble. Afraid of the reaction from Zir and Conia.

But contrary to all expectations, he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace by both of them and they both stroked the boy's back and hair. "Amethio sir... We would never let you down... You've grown close to our hearts in all this time. And apart from that, we decided to follow you of our own free will. We simply wanted to be by your side, no matter what." Conia said, still hugging the teenager, who was still completely taken by surprise.

"I agree with Conia on that. We will never leave you alone. You always have our full support, you can rely on that. 100 percent." Zir added, sharing his colleague's opinion.

Amethio simply smiled with relief and happiness and wiped away his tears with his shirt sleeve before simply remaining in the embrace for a few moments. He simply needed that right now.

Then the 16-year-old slowly detached himself from both of them. "Thank you... Really, from the bottom of my heart. And please... Don't call me sir any more, it just feels strange now. Amethio is quite enough."

Both adults just smiled. "Sure, whatever you want... Amethio."

~~~

Then Liko rejoined the trio again and leaned against Amethio's side. "And? Have you discussed everything important?"

"Of course, nothing to worry about. You really are a special girl, Liko. Please always take good care of Amethio, do you promise?" Conia asked, briefly stroking the 13-year-old's head.

Liko nodded at the question and demonstratively kissed her boyfriend's cheek. "I promise. I will never do anything to make him unhappy in any way!"

"Nyaohja!" Sprigatito, meanwhile, seemed to have caught wind of the conversation and joined them, purring as it snaked around Amethio's legs.

All four laughed briefly and Amethio took the little Grass Cat in his arms. The Pokémon seemed to appreciate this gesture very much, because now it began to practically 'knead' his arm with its paws, releasing its beguiling aroma, which also had a calming effect.

Liko smiled at the sight and scratched her partner briefly behind the ears. "Sprigatito really likes you, Amethio. Maybe you should get one of your own soon." she said, teasingly.

"No thanks, I think Ceruledge and Corviknight will do for now. But now let's get something to eat. I'm starving already." he announced and walked willingly towards the table, which was set with plenty of different dishes. Liko, Zir and Conia huffed in amusement and joined him.

The whole group now chatted about various things while they all enjoyed the delicious food that Murdock had prepared.

Of course, all the Pokémon also had their own little feast, with Corviknight and Ceruledge joining them.

Apparently everything had turned out well after all. And Liko was more than proud of that.

~~~

The party went on into the early morning until it was time to go to bed. Amethio helped with the tidying up before he retired to her room with Liko and of course went to bed with her.

"See, that was quite fun today, don't you think?" the girl asked as she snuggled up to him.

"Yes, it was indeed. Thank you, Liko. You really are a wonderful person." he said softly, while cuddling Sprigatito, who had snuggled up between the two of them.

"Of course. Any time again. Tomorrow we want to move on in search of my grandmother. After all, this mystery surrounding my pendant still needs to be solved. Why don't you just come with us? I'm sure you'll enjoy a little adventure like this." she now made the suggestion.

"Well, that... It's a great honour. If that's what you want, I'd love to come with you. But now we really should get some sleep. We'll see what happens later." he said and kissed her briefly on the lips.

"Of course. Oh, I'm just so happy that you've finally found the right path." Liko said, cuddling closer to the teenager as tiredness slowly overcame her.

Amethio noticed this and pulled the blanket more over both of them. "I can imagine." he said and switched off the light.

He then wrapped his arm around her waist and buried the tip of his nose in the crook of her neck. "Also... I'm glad too..." With these last words, the former Explorer Admin sank into dreamland, eager to see what the next few days would bring for him.

~~~

To be continued...

Sidenotes: Yeah, Part number 8 already finished. Originally I wanted to put all of the events in one Part, but then I figured out, it would be a little overkill, so I've decided, to shove the whole past reveal of Amethio into another Part. Hope, that kinda makes sense to you guys.

Anyways, I hope, you enjoyed this Part as much as the last one and please join in again to Part 9 of:

'Pokémon Horizons - The Sudden Turn'

Your dearest @animefu

[journey-to-balance]

Beyond Valentine's Day - Romancing the Every Day

I admit it - I am a hopeless romantic. Yellow roses, antique French lace and hand-painted Limoges porcelain all make my heart flutter. I love the grand "big deal" surprises, like a trip in spring as much as anyone else, but I think it's the small, day-to-day gestures that transform our lives and leave a lasting imprint on our hearts.

I think a romantic lifestyle is a state of the spirit, the daily appreciation of the beauty all around us. This means cherishing what we value most in our lives: love, joy, beauty, family and home. Our home becoming our haven, a sanctuary away from our fast-paced world.

Living a romantic lifestyle means having fresh flowers on the kitchen counter at all times, even if it's just a few decorative branches snipped from the garden in the twilight of autumn or during the barren days of winter, a single rose by the bed, and candles at dusk and at mealtimes. I'm a hold-out-for-old-fashioned-elegance woman. I believe in heirloom or thrifted silver and nice dishes for dinner, tea poured every day in porcelain cups, and reading by the welcoming coziness of a warm fire.

Carving out our own space, filled with laughter and our own rhythm - what could be more romantic than that? There's no rush, no keeping up with the neighbor, nor societal pressure, only what feels authentic and true. We celebrate the 12 days of Christmas, and consider our trees guiding lights during the stark, gray, winter hours. There's no arbitrary man made new year celebration prior to a natural spring, no new year-new me lists, no pressurized goal posts or expectations. In fact, I never know when I will be stimulated by new ideas or inspiration. I do know that it always shows up when I show gratitude to the mundane - the warmth of the sun, the freshness of the air, having access to books and music, or even how the light hits the bark on trees when we are walking in the woods with our dog.

I guess what I am trying to say is that, for me, living a romantic lifestyle means being at peace and in love with my Creator. In many ways, romanticism transcends physical objects, and becomes more of an ideal. More than travel, gourmet food, fine décor, and antique trinkets, it means making the imperfect refuge we call home, a special dwelling. Romanticizing the every day means creating a nesting place, a meaningful haven for ourselves and our families, focusing on rearing children to become warm, well-cultured, principled adults.

There's nothing mystical, no real secret to romancing our everyday. All that is required, is that we begin to look at our days through a lens of joy, and gratitude for what we already have, actively expressing appreciation and enthusiasm for simple things, not afraid to share one's excitement in honest and true ways for this one singular existence and limited time here on Earth.

I over romanticize life, I glamourize life.

I will forever sing to the birds, whisper to the moon, dream aloud to the stars and celebrate in prayer. I will forever rejoice in my existence and not take a single tear for granted, and neither should you.

Valentine's Day is Every Day. You may think me silly, think me looking at the world through rose colored glasses. I... I view this as my life's philosophy. And with that, I bid you well, and send you my love.

Respectfully, Maritza.

Our Journey to Balance

[your-greatest-queen]

I know a lot of folks don't like ADHD meds, for a variety of reasons, but oh my god. Oh my motherfucking god. These are a godsend for me.

I've been on concerta for about a year now (lowest dosage) and it's helped improve my focus and has lowered my depression. I thought it was amazing. Recently, I got my dosage upped.

My bedroom was a high level depression pit. It was nasty. I haven't actually slept in my own bed in months because it was covered in stuff. But it was so overwhelming to look at that it triggered executive dysfunction with just a glance, and so I never could clean it. My room is now clean; reorganized, dusted, vacuumed, disinfected, redecorated- it's been YEARS since it looked this nice.

I'm in grade 12.5 because I was so dysfunctional in grade 11 that I dropped out halfway through. I spent grade 12 making up for it; but even then, on my first dosage and doing better, I wasn't doing great. I haven't taken notes in years. I have winged almost every test I've ever taken. I wrote every essay the night before it was due. Rough drafts who? I managed to pull decent grades, sometimes even pretty good ones. But it was never ending stress because of my habits and I was almost always behind.

I'm ahead in my classes now. I'm doing assignments the day they're assigned. I'm writing notes and brainstorming pages of ideas and breaking things down for myself. I'm getting straight 90s. I haven't felt this confident and secure in academics since middle school.

Our house was never totally clean. The basement (my charge) was always a disaster. Having people over was at best a little shameful and at worst downright humiliating. My mother cleans, but the messes she makes outweigh it. It was my job to handle the basics, at least, after school every day. I couldn't. I could do a few things, but I got burnt out or bored too fast to complete a day's work. Small projects were put off for months.

I come home from school now and within a couple of hours, I've vacuumed upstairs and downstairs, I've done the dishes, I've taken out the trash, I've brushed the cats, I've cleaned the living room and the kitchen, I've switched the laundry- yesterday I used the toilet and then just. Reorganized the entire bathroom. Today I came home and immediately untangled the huge knotted ball of my mother's necklaces that she asked me to fix for her weeks ago. On Saturday not only did I brush my cats, I also shampooed them, conditioned them, and clipped their claws.

I used to hoard clothing because going through them was the most tedious, boring task in existence. I've recently donated over six full garbage bags worth of stuff.

I used to have to write down every single task as soon as it was given, even if there were only two, because I'd always forget at least one thing. Now I can remember upwards of five things at once, even better than the person who assigned the task in the first place.

My moods feel more regulated, I'm socializing more, I'm advocating for myself in situations where I'd previously let people walk over me, I'm making goals for the future, I have more real free time, I'm less stressed- it's a little sad that I've spent almost a decade not getting this, but I am BEYOND thrilled that I get to have this now :D

Anyway, lil happy rant because I'm very very excited!! Thanks for reading, byyyye~

[crumbleclub]

one-shot for @lonelyfreddles dream theory revamp au, except i destroyed any semblance of a timeline to make this interaction possible

Footsteps fell quietly against shag carpet. The caution with which he carried himself was deeply ingrained; it told him to be smaller, quieter, and escape notice at every opportunity.

Sometimes, he wondered if his life depended on it.

Evan had one goal in mind: a cold glass of apple juice.

Father wasn't home. He hadn't been home all week, actually. Evan had been told ahead of time, for once; the man had rattled off something about a meeting, or a conference or... something, but his words hadn't made much sense. He'd been frazzled at the time; rambling and agitated, as he often was these days. The behavior was odd enough for Evan to note, but he knew better than to question William directly.

Normally, Evan and Michael would have been left home alone. They were old enough, after all. They'd been old enough for as long as Evan could remember.

This time was different, though; Henry was coming to look after them. It was a precaution, Father had said. He hadn't seemed very happy about it, and Evan didn't think it was his idea. It didn't matter, though; Henry was nice, and Evan hadn't seen him in a long time. He was happy to hear that the man would be around.

Michael hadn't been home for very long, yet. He'd only been in the hospital for a week or so, but he'd had to stay in another place for a few. Evan wasn't sure what it was actually called– Father had called it the looney bin, but he knew that wasn't right– but it hadn't seemed so bad when he'd gotten the chance to go visit. Mikey had seemed healthier there than he had in the hospital.

Evan had jumped at the chance to go see him. Of course he had. He needed to see him; to see that he was still real and still here. He didn't want his brother to die. Evan had been so scared when—

His hands were red the towels were red red red red the voice on the other line said to keep him awake they said they said—

Evan felt tears starting to well in his eyes, and he wiped at them with his sleeve. He didn't need to do this right now. He needed to get his drink first, and then he could go cry in his room. It felt good to cry, sometimes; to let things out, even if the kids at school teased him for it.

There was no use in getting rid of something that obviously helped. He'd just have to hide it as best as he could.

His steps continued again; past the grandfather clock, into the living room. He'd get his juice, go back to his room, and hang out there for a while. It was going to be fine; everything would be fine.

Michael hadn't scared him since he'd been back home; Evan thought it might have been because he still didn't feel very good. Why did Mikey want to die?

Still, Evan checked underneath the sofa; behind the TV.

No Michael.

He pressed on towards the kitchen, but stopped when he heard voices.

Evan recognized his brother's first. He heard Michael almost every day; his voice was higher than most men's, and accented, just like Father's. Unlike their dad's, though, Michael's voice was quiet, and he dragged his words. William's speech was much more clipped.

The other voice, low and clear, was Henry's.

"You can't keep acting like this, Michael."

"Yeah, well, why not?!"

Mikey wasn't quite shouting, but his voice was louder than normal. Was he in trouble?

Evan paused to listen.

"You know it doesn't help to keep egging him on like this."

Michael laughed, but something about it was wrong. The sound was short, sharp, and almost shaky. Evan thought he'd heard him laugh like that before, but he couldn't place where.

"There it is again. You know." There was a pause. "That's the worst part. You know exactly what he's like, and you don't do shit."

Evan wandered closer to the door; he wanted to hear what they were talking about.

"Michael..." Henry's sigh was barely audible from the other room, muffled through wood and paint. "Language."

His last remark felt strange. Evan furrowed his brow; he didn't think that had been what Henry really wanted to say.

"Fucking really?!"

Evan flinched back. Michael was angry.

He took a deep breath.

It was going to be okay. Mike wasn't angry with Evan; he didn't even know his younger brother was nearby. Nobody was going to hurt him, and everything was going to be fine.

Evan didn't think he'd ever seen Henry angry. He hoped he wouldn't snap and hurt Mike, the way that Father did. Evan hated that, even when Michael had been especially cruel to him. Something was wrong with the way it made his brother stiffen and cry, even when it was just words. Sometimes, Evan thought, the words hurt the worst.

"I'm just trying to keep things from getting any worse."

Henry's tone was insistent, but Michael was having none of it.

"Keep it from–" The teenager cut himself off, steadying his breath to keep from shouting. "You could have stopped it from happening in the first place, Uncle Henry."

He spat the man's name. Evan wasn't sure if he'd ever heard him sound so...

Evan didn't have a name for that emotion, he didn't think. It wasn't anger; his brother sounded hurt, he recognized, but there was something else. Disgust, maybe?

"Michael..."

"You could stop it now." The pace of Michael's speech picked up again, his tone rising. "We still live here. He's mad at me for this, you know that?"

Silence.

When Mikey spoke again, his voice was becoming frantic.

"Don't you believe me, Henry?" Evan could hear the sound of fabric rustling. "Do you see this? Do you think this was an accident, too?"

Evan froze.

His mouth was dry; something in his chest felt cold. He suppressed the urge to shiver.

They were talking about Father.

Evan hadn't seen it happen, this time, but he'd heard Michael crying. Michael hardly ever cried.

He lost track of the conversation for a moment, falling into his own thoughts. Evan knew that Father would be livid if he knew one of the boys was talking about the way he could be sometimes; he had a reputation to uphold, after all, and the way a man raised his children was nobody else's business. The idea that Mikey might have actually talked to anyone about it was alien to him.

"You know," he'd said, but that couldn't be right.

Henry wouldn't ever hurt them, Evan didn't think. Maybe hitting sometimes was okay, but he'd definitely intervene if he saw it get really bad...

Right?

Henry's voice pulled him back.

"–sorry, Michael."

"Then do something!" Michael was yelling now; every breath came short and quick. A small collision sounded; a noise Evan easily recognized as someone's hand being smacked away.

Mikey didn't like to be touched. He knew that sound very well.

Evan felt his cheeks burn, tears brimming. The turmoil taking place in the next room was overwhelming, and he felt it bleeding into him with each word that was spoken.

He made no move to leave, though. He couldn't.

He needed to know.

It was quiet for a little while.

Sometimes, Henry would start to speak, but stop before getting any words out. Evan wondered if he was struggling with what he wanted to say.

It seemed like ages before he really spoke again.

"Mikey, you know I can't do that."

Evan dropped everything, looking up at the door in disbelief.

Henry did know.

He knew, and he...

He didn't do anything.

Henry left them there.

Evan felt sick to his stomach.

Maybe he just needed a moment to process it. Sure, he wasn't always certain what was normal and what wasn't, but it had been bad enough for Mike to reach out for help, right? It had been bad enough to make Evan cry himself to sleep every night. It left scrapes and bruises, and, sometimes, it was too bad for either brother to even talk about.

It had been bad enough that Mikey had wanted to die.

Evan wasn't feeling very thirsty anymore. He turned to leave; to run back to his room and never, ever look at Henry the same way again.

As he left, he heard a sob echo from behind.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Soft Luke Hemmings Masterlist

Ashton's Turn (ao3) - Jay_isnotokay luke/ashton, michael/calum M, 5k

Summary: "Who's this Luke? I don't think I've met him before." Ashton said, slightly shocked.

"This is top Luke. He's a real smooth talker, so beware." Luke explained in his husky top voice, walking closer to Ashton and putting his hand on his waist before whispering in his ear, "I'm daddy tonight."

~

Or Ashton finds out what it's like to be in his princesses' shoes

Butterfly House - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) michael/luke G, 2k

Summary: Luke and Michael go to a butterfly house for their anniversary.

Coffee (ao3) - coolbabyblue T, 8k

Summary: Luke lives for being a barista, practicing his latte art in between college classes, studying everyone who orders anything in the small café like he were planning an essay on them all, trying to charm his way into the hearts of every customer.

When a red haired guy enters his workplace with his two parents looking rather gloomy, he makes it his own personal goal to make him feel alright.

don't you love new york in the fall? (ao3) - toddamyanderson luke/calum G, 2k

Summary: All Calum wanted to do as the weather got colder in New York, and the fiery red leaves began to litter the ground, was snuggle inside and watch his favourite “spooky” Halloween movies with his boyfriend. But Luke’s mind was made of different stuff altogether.

hiding in a living sleep (ao3) - toddamyanderson luke/calum T, 1k

Summary: “Thanks, Cal.”

A ghost of a frown tugged Calum’s eyebrows together for a moment. “What for?”

Luke smiled at him again, the adorable kind of smile where one side of his mouth tilts up in a lopsided grin first, before the rest of his face has time to catch up with his glee. “For putting up with me and my endless need for cuddles,” he whispered.

how far is far? (are we too deep?) (ao3) - orphan_account luke/calum T, 3k

Summary: “Why are you helping me shave, again?” Calum smiled as he watched Luke drop the stuff on the bench beside Calum’s leg, then headed off to the cupboard to find a towel. He was cute when he was on a mission. Something about the way he pouted a little when he concentrated ( making his lips seem extra kissable), and the little crease that always appeared between his eyebrows…Calum couldn’t place what exactly, but something about it was just cute.

it's heaven in your arms (ao3) - toddamyanderson luke/calum G, 2k

Summary: “Cal,” he whispered.

“Mm?”

“Should you go back to bed now?”

He only grunted in response, snuggling more into Luke’s side, his hand coming up to rest on his stomach. “Don’t wanna. Comfy.” Luke smiled even wider, happy to be the center of Calum’s affection. It was nice to have someone to hold.

Karma's a Relaxing Thought (Aren't You Envious That for You It's Not?) (ao3) - Anonymous luke/ashton E, 2k

Summary: (Or where Ashton has a wet dream and tells Luke all about it. Luke makes it a reality.)

The Ocean and Camouflage (ao3) - Marauders0exe michael/luke N/R, 1k

Summary: Michael Clifford hates Luke Hemmings- or so he thought.

Water The Flowers (In My Lungs) (ao3) - Marauders0exe michael/luke, calum/ashton, michael/ofc N/R, 5k

Summary: Luke's been in love with Michael for as long as he can remember, but Michael loves Lydia. Michael is marrying Lydia. And Luke is going to die just so long as the flowers in his throat threaten to suffocate him.

you're in the kitchen humming (ao3) - toddamyanderson luke/calum T, 1k

Summary: Luke loves it when Calum smiles. And he loves how he smiles. Calum’s always so sure about it, like he never thinks twice about why he’s smiling, he just does it. It's so… honest.

Luke wishes he could be like that.

[astro-break]

Thoughts on the 10th ep of Hypmic Rhyme Anima+. Spoilers beware

Season 1 | Ep.1 | Ep.2 | Ep.3 | Ep.4 | Ep. 5 | Ep. 6 | Ep. 7 | Ep. 8 | Ep. 9

LETS GOOOO MCD flashbackkkkk

Oh look finally a good look at TBH and the mastermind's faces, nice thanks OFC the big bag is Kaibyaku the medical dude

ah so in the end it all leads back to that company if all three of them worked in the same place

Ofc the classic cheek punch then pass out, always happens

LMAOO they knocked each others teeth out and made friendship bracelets out of it thats a romance right there.

Oh damn does that mean that kaibyaku has some of of medical issue? that was an IV in his arm im pretty sure or at least some sort of drip. Maybe Jakurai will play some sort of big end of series role that heals him? I hope not, that would be a bit boring but it would make sense since kujaku posse is the only duo not affiliated with the whole TBH trio thing

Leader battle lets goooo we'll probably get another leader song which is always fun

I hope we get a TBH one

EYYY HEADSET MIC LETS GOOO I looooveddd rosho's one and im so glad theres another one which is always fun

Huh mic embedded in the hand? Thats an interesting concept

[On a second rewatch I think its interesting how Kenji specifically says "I can't fall here. Not we. Theres some foreshadowing that he is the only real one here. He specifics in his rap vers that its "that wretched party" that belongs in a grave, not any of our characters in particular]

[also another detail. The necromancy + skull imagery to their rap verse…. they are bringing back old ghosts with their song… they are so tragic. The rap on as second watch is just so much more tragic once you know everything]

Kuko's rap uses the letters T B H as the starts of his verses which is fun

NIce imagery of three dragons fighting for dominance, a very apt metaphor for IchiSamaKuko who are just hothead extremes

huh wonder what was ripped up

oh thats a neat explanation of how they were able to do a lot of supernatural stuff. I feel like it would have been more interesting if it was a hallucination, but hey I'll take that L its not that bad even if a bit uninspired/not very well foreshadowed

Also the vibrations as controlling element, as someone who can hear electronics, is something that would work for me 100% wwwww I would go crazy if i had to hear those annoying sound waves 24/7

I mean exposition episode but its kinda cute actually? I hate that they're doing this after revealing that they're dead but it does put in the point that they were people, not good people, but still people

bro… bro… satoru specifically says in his rap that the world's our kitchen… he has so many kitchen metaphors here…. bro still holds his dream of opening a restaurant with his totally platonic life bro even after death… bro…..

I mean its not that bad of a motive, im not that convinced that they're in the wrong. I'm also very much a sucker for acts of destructive love which is why i may be more inclined to cheer for kaibyakumon

While I do wish that they had fleshed out Kenji's relationship with Satoru and Akira a bit more, I do feel like the duo's dynamic on its own was really well presented before the big reveal. Like what's Kenji's feelings about SatoAkira, why is he so invested in this whole plan other than borderline idolizing kaibyaku?

I feel its hilarious how kenji's just sitting there while kaibyaku is just going on his monologue wwww

Nice, i like how they used Oosaka's island nature into their planning but there Are other bridges going into the mainland im pretty sure?

okay but why should you care? Like hes doing a overall good? Kaibyakumon's goals are aligned with the overall cast's motive of making sure that the government is placed in check so if the team wants us to have a reason to root against them, gotta give a good reason, esp after that backstory

LMAO HIFUMI oh i feel so bad for him

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"I kinda wished this isn't... a charade." Jason remarked idly. "I mean the restaurant is nice and all..." And so was Jason, Tim thought. While he was still torn between maybe bitchslapping Barbara and Dinah for coming up with this idea, he sure as all hell didn't regret it. Or the sight. Jason was wearing a simple maroon shirt and black vest embroidered in silver. Tim himself ended up in a fitted light blue printed button-up that made him feel positively small next to Jason.

"It's not." Tim promptly corrected him. "I mean, okay. It's not a charade. Not entirely, at least. I'd have... you know, asked. For real. I just... there's a mission at hand and all..." And Tim knew he would have, too. If only to get himself fully and completely alone with Jason.

Ironically, the restaurant Barbara picked for them was a major meeting place for mafioso and just about half of the 'upper class' criminals of Gotham. It helped that Helena, with her ties to the mafia families, was able to secure them a place - not even the city's Mayor or the Waynes would be able to get a place without a vouch from either out of the four families: Falcone, Maroni, Galante, or Bertinelli - yes, Helena's family. They were the known heads of the East End, and they have made a pact that this place would forever remain sacred ground: no businesses shall be spoken of in here, ever.

It did make a perfect place for a date-slash-briefing meeting between Tim and Jason, though.

At Tim's comment, Jason glared at him suspiciously, and then let out an uneasy laughter. "Sure, Timmers. Just let me know when you can actually walk away from 'missions' and available for a real date."

Tim's brain must have crashed, because he could literally feel it rebooting. "Uh, yeah. Hi, where were we?" he spluttered when his brain was finally operating again and he noticed Jason's glare at him.

"You were telling me that there are hints that Bruce is indeed a fake and the real one is being held in Europe - hence Dr and Mrs Wayne's kind of über-prolonged holiday at the Wayne family Chalet in Switzerland." Jason told him. "Our agents told me that they're virtually free to walk around, and they have a housekeeper named Peyton Riley there."

"How's your agent prowl around unseen?" Tim asked curiously. But Jason just smirked at him.

"League-ways, Tim, do you really want to know?" he teased. "But I don't think the chalet itself would have any kind of detainment area... it's practically a hut - three bedrooms, one kitchen-slash-dining room, one living room. I think if Superman's gonna see through it with his x-ray vision set at level one, he'll literally see through the whole nine yards all the way to the mountain behind it..."

"What about the mountain behind it, though?" Tim asked. "There could be like, caves and stuff there where..." he swallowed. "...either you could detain someone or..."

"...hide a dead body, yeah I know. I've told my people to search all over the town, including the mountains, and they haven't reported back to me yet." Jason finished for him. "If you have other venues you'd like to search on, let me know."

Tim nodded, thinking how convenient it has been for them to have the League of Assassins at their disposal. First and foremost, while Barbara was able to place her agent - i.e. Dr Leslie Thompkins - at the conference that was attended by Dr Wayne, she was not available to be a permanent sentry of sort, as Dr Thompkins has her own work back in Gotham. So when Jason said that the driver that Dr Thompkins initially used, and whose services was continue to the Waynes, was a League agent; they all jumped at the chance to find out further. Or rather, Tim insisted that Barbara should accept Jason's offer and utilize the League - they were working the same goal, after all.

What Tim thought of as 'further' initially included having the driver tail the Waynes, maybe, for a few days. But Jason's plan - Tim and Barbara both have to admit - was million times better. The Waynes were residing in a chalet just a little way out of town. Said chalet would have had its supplies - i.e. pantry ingredients, cleaning supplies - sent in from the nearest town. Said town has League of Assassin agents in it. Why shouldn't they be utilized?

Hence they discovered that Dr and Mrs Wayne has hired someone not local, Peyton Riley, to be their housekeeper. A little unusual, but since the family would originally had Alfred, the little town kept quiet. Quietly grumbling, that is. And the Birds of Prey discovered just how gossipy a little town could get, courtesy of just-as-gossipy League of Assassin members.

"Thus far, I'm okay with them keeping an eye from a distance. We'll need to determine who this Peyton Riley is, and find out who she serves, for real. I mean, she arrived there only a day after the Waynes, so she was like, probably, a sentry." Tim said, his mind only half working as he watched Jason swirling the brandy in his goblet. Tim's own glass consist of grape juice. Unfermented, thanks. He was a minor, after all, even if the maitre'd would not care so much and just cared of the platinum card Tim has. Jason just didn't care that he, too, technically was still a not-legal drinker.

A question nagged on the back of Tim's mind. "Hey Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"Ever wonder what you'd be, like if Talia didn't get you?"

Jason took a sip from the goblet, and set it slowly on the table. "Every single day." he said. "My best-case scenario would be I end up dead before my 15th birthday. My worst case scenario would be that I ended up dead before my 15th birthday as somebody's slave."

"Cheerful," Tim smirked.

"You?"

Tim shrugged. "Same thing, only died by my own hand, probably." He looked straight into Jason's eyes as he said it. There was no quiz, fear, or disgust in those teal eyes. Tim inwardly smirked for himself, thinking how Dick was right that Jason's eyes were actually teal instead of blue or green. The restaurant's dim lighting made Jason's eyes looked more green, at present.

"I saw the scars." Jason said. "We at the League have many kids like you, ones who thought they had no purpose in life and should simply succumb to the voices in their mind. Maybe if Barbara hadn't found you, we would." he smiled softly. "Wonder what it'll be like..."

"Probably somewhere between the League taking over the world right now, or me taking over the League - heinous violence excluded, thanks." Tim replied. "And it was Selina who found me first, by the way. I just..." Tim blinked, realizing something profound.

That night when Selina had found him lurking in the shadows, trying to catch a photo of the cat-burglar that had been terrorizing the place of the man who had killed his parents, Tim had had a purpose. The purpose was to get rid of the burglar so he could go in to the man's place and get what he needed. But when he saw how Catwoman had moved, he had an epiphany. Instead of getting her arrested, he talked to her. He'd gotten her to agree to help him.

Selina did it on her own afterward - she demanded a lot from Tim. Demanded that he should go see a shrink and get help for his... ways. The shrink, a Dr Harleen Quinzel, helped a lot. Helped Tim to realize that he was an addict. That his addiction to the adrenaline was the cause of his self-harming ways, whereas the addiction itself was caused by the adrenaline. The excitement he felt when he did something dangerous and get away with it.

Barbara had somehow sensed it without seeing Dr Quinzel's records, or spoke too much to Selina. Tim knew that Selina would never have revealed anything of Tim's past to anyone. Yet Barbara knew just when to get Tim's adrenaline to spike, and how - usually without anything sharp or hard or bullet get in the way. Barbara kind of made it her life's purpose to throw puzzles at Tim that, when he solved them, would bring the adrenaline forth.

He snapped out of his reverie when Jason snapped his fingers in front of his face, "Earth to Tim, you there?" Jason called.

"yeah, sorry... I was just... thinking of what would've happened to me if... things had been different. I'd--" Tim smiled ruefully. "I need a few more flowers for Mother's Day, I think."

Jason's smile mirrored Tim. "Yeah, I hear you. Although I do have a scenario where it had been me picked up by Selina instead of you... Wasn't fun, either." he grinned. "We'd probably end up as the nastiest team of thieves, ever, screw heroics."

"Right? I'd thought of that, too!" Tim chuckled. "Well, anyway. It's getting late. Not that I want the night to end..."

"So far, neither Dick or Damian has reported one of them being dead and/or prefer to be after a Disney marathon I knew Dick was planing to do tonight..." Jason laughed. "But yeah, the paparazzis outside are getting restless. Think we should get them their time's worth?"

"Erg." Tim groaned and facepalmed. "Sorry about that... I thought they'd be more interested on that... whatzer-name Hollywood starlet over there..."

"She's left, there were a few flashes, and that was it. Think she might be related to any of the Dons?" Jason smirked slyly.

"I suppose she would be... I think she's Irish, though."

"Ooh, inter-family union, mayhaps?"

"Didn't know you gossip."

"Tim, buddy, if you hear half the gossips the League would share around, your toes would curl." Jason told him earnestly. "No one is saved! Not even the Head or..." Jason paused as the Maitre'd brought them their bill. Tim had to laugh as he reached over for the bill, the mental image of Ra's being gossiped with somebody was too funny.

"You missed him, too." He said after he returned the bill.

Jason lifted a shoulder. "He taught me a lot. Of course I missed him, too." he replied. "It's the only thing I can do to honor both of them, keeping Damian safe once and for all. And... if this doesn't work - if Damian can't deal with his... father--" he paused as they both got up. "--then there will be contingency plans to run. For the record: I hate each and every one of them."

"Would they include like, something liquid and red and should've been inside a living being's body?" Tim tested, a few steps from his car.

Jason's smile at him was probably worth the price of the photos the paparazzis didn't hesitate to snap. It filled Tim's tabloid cliché quota for the whole year of 'soft', 'gentle', and 'loving'.

"You got me good, Timbers," Jason replied and giving him the finger guns.

Make that _two years worth of cliché_, Tim thought as he entered the car. Taken without context, the paparazzis would have a field day guessing the context of Jason's comment. "Oh man," Tim muttered as he started the car. "Tomorrow's tabloid headlines are gonna be wild..."

"Tomorrow?" Barbara's voice chimed in, and Tim could hear the laugh in her voice. "Buddy, tonight's social media frenzy is gonna be wild. I'm giving some popular social medias some ten minutes to crash."

"Sorry," Tim told Jason.

"I'm not. Thanks for the bookings, Babs," Jason replied. "Good time was had, Tim. It's nice to relax after this... good long while."

If Jason knew how his comment would be such a jinx, he probably wouldn't say it. The ride back home was quiet, interspersed with light commentaries from Barbara while she monitored a lot of the social medias. MugTome crashed after twelve minutes, RapidPic crashed in twenty. A lot of tabloid websites crashed after less than ten minutes of them posting the photo of Tim and Jason.

They had just turned the corner of Bristol road, when Jason tensed. "Choppers." he said. "Silent choppers. Oracle!" he growled.

"Releasing drones right now." Barbara replied.

"Floor it, Tim!" he ordered.

"I am!" Tim snapped back. He knew he was flooring it, speeding up the car the very instant he, too, heard the quiet rumble of helicopter rotors.

"You guys..." Barbara warned, just as they entered Wayne Manor's driveway. "Get out of th--"

Barbara's warning was cut off by a loud explosion. The car rocked and skidded to a halt, and the airbag exploded just in time on both sides - effectively shielding the two of them from bullets coming their way. Tim heard the bullets bouncing and skidding off the windshield and thanking high heavens that he'd not opted for a convertible. Also thanking his paranoia that led him to reinforce his car with bulletproof everything - even the airbag.

He didn't have time to think when Jason grabbed him by the cuff just as the airbags started to deflate. He heard Jason growled, "Duck," and Jason's side of the door got kicked out. Somebody- something - crashed onto it, and Jason must have grabbed that somebody's gun or otherwise was pretty good in hiding an automatic rifle in his person. He started shooting - the sound was too close and consistent to be coming from those who were speeding past his car.

"Oracle!" Tim called amidst the shooting.

"Dammit, Cat! I can't see a thing on your side!" Barbara replied. "The manor is on fire! And someone is shooting from the-- by God that's Alfred!"

"Jason!" Tim called, resetting his car's security features so that he could restart the car. "Get in!"

"Go!" Jason ordered, and as soon as Tim saw one of his arms holding on to the car, he floored the gas. "Just keep going and don't look!" Jason continued.

They must have been playing the world's meanest chicken game with motorcycle riders, because Tim could feel the crashes on his car; but not see them as the remnant of the airbag covered the lower side of the windshield and he partially hiding under the dashboard. He was definitely driving by memory, toward the Manor. And skidded to a stop right in front of its steps, looking at the burning manor in horror.

[tsuki-sennin]

Very late, but here comes the next round of the DGP Sussy Game! Er, DGP Divergence Game! That's... that's what I meant.

Footbaaaaaaaaaaaall! Footbaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!

-Oh damn, even got the confession cam. I really hope we see these go into like a Total Drama direction.

-...god, Chris McLean absolutely would be DPG Game Master given the chance.

-Anyways, welcome to the Desire Grand Total Drama Death Watch Running Man Kiling School Deadzone Smash TV Apex Games!

-Who shot Mr. Burns?

-Laxative soup! The weakness of any athlete, huh Sae-san?

-"You're very sussy boy, Keiwa-kun."

-Daichi, you seem very insistent on casting blame onto Keiwa in particular.

-"I even cook kids for ."

-Vote now on your phones~!

-God, I have to wonder how popular previous Game Masters were in comparison to Girori and Chirami. I have to imagine they had to shuffle them out every few years otherwise the audience would get really sick of 'em.

-Oooooooh, somebody really likes Keiwa.

-I see Gotoukuji's still taciturn.

-Ohhhhhh, he changed.

-He gardenin'.

-S p o r t s!

-Keiwa-niichan!

-Isn't he a swell guy?

-Jyamatooooo!

-Oh whoops! There goes Keiwa-kun's secret!

-Goaaaaaaal!

-Jyamar Ball!

-No rules, no limits! Just you, the ball, and the goddamn goal!

-Hot damn, Ace!

-Guess he's a big fan of the Powered Builder buckle now.

-Aaaaand Lopo catches Keiwa-kun's masterful pass! Can she keep it goin' with Nadge-Sparrow? Ooooh, and he's got it! He's runnin, he's runnin', but the Jyamato block him! Ace with the interception!

-Damn, we're kicking ass at this game we only learned about like two minutes ago.

-Goaaaaaal!

-Aaaaah, it is pretty basketball-y, huh?

-Not gonna lie, this game seems like it'd be super fun to play in real life with these rules. Just take out the threat to human life and put up some obstacle courses this would be a fixture in a lot of gym classes.

-"Protect the soup kitchen!"

-Firefighter...

-It's him! The polar bear man!

-Keiwa-kun, you're kinda slipping.

-Ohhhh, we're in trouble.

-Halftiiiiime!

-"Get inside everyone, pleeeeease!"

-Ohhhh... Ace...

-Ukiyo Mika? Not Mitsume?

-Ooooooh, he's a stan. How frightening.

-"You guys are assholes, huh?"

-"Assholes with a lot of money and free time~!"

-Ahhh, Sae-san :)

-You seem like a real nice lady.

-I'm gonna miss you next game.

-Anee-chan~!

-Nyan, nyan nyan~! Neon?

-Oh my god, is that were "Neon" comes from?

-Play some fuckin ball.

-They die, they become plant food.

-Ohhhhhh, Gotokouji's really fucked...

-OHHHHHHHH that's creepy

-Ah, yep, didn't work

-Forced activiation!

-Michinagaaaaaa, you ain't gonna win like this, man.

-Oooooh, snapped his arm! Goddamn!

-One win.

-MICHINAGA NOOOO

-OH FUUUUUUCK

-He's the plant zombie buffalo man now!

-Holy shit...

-Is this a whole other place?

-"Oooops~! Guess you don't belong anywhere..."

-Neon's goin' for a catnap.

-Keiwa-kun's the sussy baka.

-But Daichi-kun's the sussiest of them all.

-Ore ja nai!

-"Aaaaaace, help me!"

-"The way you made Giroli look like a total chump was super cool of you, Keiwa-kun :)"

-Buckle theft!

-...THAT'S A FROG.

-So, Keiwa's sponsor...

-Judging by the frog statue, the Japanese artwork behind it, the fact that Keiwa-kun's most associated with the Ninja Raise Buckle, and he's stringing Keiwa along for his own purposes, I believe that this character may be a reference to Gamano from Shinobi. Nothing more than that though, I don't wanna make any assumptions. That's for the Tsuki-Sennin who watches Shinobi every week to figure out himself.

-Kekera...

-Looks like Jean's got a friend. ...or is it "Gene"?

-"Ehhh? No, no, he isn't sussy at all~!"

-Three whole votes!

-Kick off! Two balls!

-Let's begin!

-Deploy! Powered System!

-Protecc

-A present~! Protecc the kids!

-You go, bro!

-Keiwaaaaaaa

-We got goaled.

-Ah, Michinaga's meetin' 'em again! Epic!

-Guess we just gotta wait to see the next goal.

[softnoirr]

Hi! If you’re up for it, I’d love for you to do another “director’s commentary” thing for this scene. I’m doing a re-read and this one just has sooo many layers, so I’d enjoy getting inside your head on it!

“Nice place,” Tobin says, running a fingertip across the counter. She casts a look at the cabinet that's cracked open to show a sliver of a tequila bottle in the back corner, her eyes switching to Christen like they’re in on the same joke, and then back to the counter with disdain.

Christen laughs, almost unaware of it until the sound has bubbled up, sharp and joyful, in the air between them. She scrunches her nose with it. Tobin stares at her, a crease between her eyebrows. Christen clamps her mouth shut, the sound dies.

“What? It’s the same as it was the last time you were here. You didn’t like it then,” she says, defensive.

There’s something uncomfortable in the acknowledgment that Tobin has been here before, that she might know it. That when she goes home tonight and wakes up tomorrow when she eats breakfast and wanders wherever she goes next in the world, she will remember the shape of Christen’s kitchen.

But Tobin is shaking her head, brushing it off. “No it’s—” she presses her tongue into the side of her cheek and then shrugs, deflating. “You laugh like you did when we were in Studio.”

Christen goes solid. “I don’t think you’d remember what my laugh sounded like.”

Tobin huffs a breath out through her nose, dropping her hand from the counter so it rests against her side. Her fingertips just barely brush the top of her brace.

“Sure. Whatever. Guess not,” she says. Christen’s jaw clenches. Tobin might forever be able to sneak away with memories of now, but Christen remembers the before, and she remembers the shape of Tobin’s indifference. How apathy had built and built and somehow, in an instant and a trip, resolved itself to hatred-like severity.

Tobin takes a breath and Christen knows it’s like drawing strength for a blow. Christen flinches before she even speaks.

“Like, we both know I’m a big fan of lying, so.” Tobin’s eyes are molten. Something in Christen is lava. She hates, she hates. And Tobin smiles, and she knows. On and on forever, because Christen is foolish. Because Christen is reckless. Because a part of Christen is punishing— herself or maybe both of them, she doesn’t know.”

sure!! i love doing the directors commentaries. its below the cut!

“Nice place,” Tobin says, running a fingertip across the counter. She casts a look at the cabinet that's cracked open to show a sliver of a tequila bottle in the back corner [One of my main goals when I started pdd was to make the universe feel more “lived in” than my previous writing. If you buy a bottle of alcohol and don’t drink it all it's still going to be in your apartment. Christen didn’t finish the bottle of tequila she bought in Chapter 5 so it's still here and visible. Christen was also drinking the tequila when Tobin showed up in Chapter 5. This is a little reminder of Tobin recognising her space.], her eyes switching to Christen like they’re in on the same joke, and then back to the counter with disdain. [There are two layers of subtext = 1) The joke they’re both in on is that Tobin doesn’t think the place is nice 2) The joke is that Tobin is seeing the tequila and remembering Chapter 5. It is meant to be up to the reader which one they think is going on—Christen doesn’t 100% know so she can’t narrate it reliably.]  

Christen laughs, almost unaware of it until the sound has bubbled up, sharp and joyful, in the air between them. She scrunches her nose with it. Tobin stares at her, a crease between her eyebrows. Christen clamps her mouth shut, the sound dies. [This is not technically the first time Christen has laughed in the fic because she laughs—fakely—in front of Kevin when asked about Tobin. But it is only the second time and the first time it is real. She suppresses laughter, or comments on how she could laugh if the situation were different, constantly prior to this, but here, alone with Tobin in an environment that Christen controls completely, she relaxes]

“What? It’s the same as it was the last time you were here. You didn’t like it then,” she says, defensive. [And it is immediately ruined once she remembers that it is Tobin and everything that entails]

There’s something uncomfortable in the acknowledgment that Tobin has been here before, that she might know it. That when she goes home tonight and wakes up tomorrow, when she eats breakfast and wanders wherever she goes next in the world, she will remember the shape of Christen’s kitchen. [This isn’t a well-written sentence tbh I should have edited it better in hindsight. But the idea that these two haunt one another is very present in this fic and this is an example of that. Are they even real people to one another or are they just emulations? Christen is lamenting how uncomfortable she finds it that Tobin might know her but this also implies Tobin won’t be able to get away from that knowledge.]

But Tobin is shaking her head, brushing it off. “No, it’s—” she presses her tongue into the side of her cheek and then shrugs [She’s deciding whether she’s going to be honest or start a fight to deflect], deflating. “You laugh like you did when we were in Studio.” [Christen reads this as some sort of insult but it's about as close as Tobin gets to saying “I forgive you.”] 

Christen goes solid. “I don’t think you’d remember what my laugh sounded like.” [This is why it's important that Christen doesn’t laugh around her before this conversation. If Tobin had heard it recently Christen would be able to convince herself and probably a reader that Tobin is just conflating that. There would also be no reason, except the context being gentler, for Tobin to be taken off guard by it.] 

Tobin huffs a breath out through her nose, dropping her hand from the counter so it rests against her side. Her fingertips just barely brush the top of her brace. [Callbacks to the main issue–Tobin’s injury and how it happened. Having an action call attention to it like this lets the narration show that Christen is hyper-aware of Tobin’s knee and everything that goes along with that, without having to say that.]

“Sure. Whatever. Guess not,” she says. Christen’s jaw clenches. Tobin might forever be able to sneak away with memories of now, but Christen remembers the before [No she fucking does not lmao], and she remembers the shape of Tobin’s indifference [Christen is an unreliable narrator]. How apathy had built and built and somehow, in an instant and a trip [Here she’s referring to what “happened” as a “trip” instead of a push or anything that implicates Christen. Her narration on this goes back and forth all the time depending on how she feels. Right now she’s on guard and a little emotionally taken aback by Tobin so she’s narrating it as softly as possible. When she’s pissed off at Tobin she’ll say she fell, when she feels bad about herself she implies she’s at fault. You can’t take anything she says or even thinks at face value because she’s misremembering and re-interpreting things all the time], resolved itself to hatred-like severity [You’re supposed to wonder a little if it is Christen or Tobin’s ‘hatred-like severity’ that she’s referring to]

Tobin takes a breath and Christen knows it’s like drawing strength for a blow [Christen is hyper-focused on the “blow” part of that, but the “drawing strength” is more important to what's going on for Tobin here]. Christen flinches before she even speaks. [Christen always thinks the worst of Tobin]“Like, we both know I’m a big fan of lying, so.” Tobin’s eyes are molten. Something in Christen is lava [Tobin being a little mean + also validating Christen’s beliefs (sarcastically) is turning Christen on a little!]. She hates, she hates. And Tobin smiles, and she knows. On and on forever, because Christen is foolish. Because Christen is reckless. Because a part of Christen is punishing—herself [The rhythm of this was meant to be that she’s cutting off her own train of thought here but I don’t think that lands lol] or maybe both of them, she doesn’t know. [I wouldn’t write this paragraph like this in hindsight because I think it's a bit stylistically messy. The next paragraph would’ve been just as effective without this bit imo. In any case, the idea that this is all some long extended punishment for Christen is also a big Theme of the fic, and thats followed through a little more in the rest of this scene!]