#ugh it looks so different on my phone then my tablet but whatever.

[happywitch416]

And its done. And at the moment I have nothing nice to say about it so I won't.

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!eddie

part 2 here | ao3 link here

Eddie chose a career in voice acting to avoid shit like this.

Forced socializing. Schmoozing with hotshot directors who are used to everyone kissing their ass until their lips bleed. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. 

… Okay yeah sure, Eddie kisses asses. But only in the literal, consensual kind of way. Usually after a few mediocre dinner dates, at least.

But this particular fuckhole of a director is insisting that Eddie attends the production shoot of the commercial that he’ll be narrating for. Which is weird - that’s not how this process typically goes. Eddie gets the script and records it in his studio. Easy peasy.

“I do things a little differently with my projects.” The director sneers into the phone’s speaker. Eddie silently gags at the oozing amounts of ego on this guy. “I want to immerse you into my vision.”

Ew. Eddie would rather immerse himself into a nap, but whatever. A job is a job.

“Understood.” Eddie agrees with minimal teeth-clenching. “I’ll be on set shortly.”

The phone clicks dead with nothing but a chuckle from the guy. No ‘goodbye,’ no ‘thank you.’ Rude… but that’s kind of an industry standard, so why did Eddie expect anything different?

He folds the script into his back pocket, throws on a shirt that screams ‘Los Angeles disaster gay,’ and makes his way to the studio lot.

Fucking yay. 

Upon arrival, the director immediately escorts Eddie into the green room. Rambles on about needing him to meet the lead model for this commercial.

“Isn’t he just posing with the product?” Eddie lets his snarkiness run loose with that question, knows it right away.

Luckily, the guy is too busy snapping at a crew member to notice. “You’ll be voicing his character’s inner narrations.”

“Right.”

“And I want your tone to be seamless with the energy that he’s giving in this shoot. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.” Mostly loud.

The director swings open the door and reveals maybe the most cosmically beautiful person that Eddie has ever seen.

“Eddie, this is Steve.” The director says. “Steve, this is Eddie.”

Models are beautiful people, that’s the goddamn gig. Makeup, no makeup. Photoshop, no photoshop. They just look better than the general population and society accepts that as a fact.

But Eddie is a grubby little voice actor that burrows himself up in his boxy apartment for days. Very little sunlight, very little human interaction, and a shit ton of takeout.

Long story short, he doesn’t get out much. So this? Seeing a biblically hot heartthrob in the flesh? With his own two eyes? It’s knocking him into deep space. Sending him into an astral projection without sticking a tablet on his tongue first.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Steve holds out his hand while someone brushes more powder onto his shiny, glowy skin. God, that’s the best damn skin Eddie has ever seen. Powder be damned, Steve doesn’t need it’s chalky finish.

Eddie shakes himself out of this spell, takes Steve’s hand like he’s somehow worthy of touching him. “Yeah, you too.”

Lame. So lame. On a scale of one to Star Wars prequels, his response is the CGI in Attack of the Clones. ‘Yeah, you too?’ Ugh, what a dumbass.

The director tells them to get acquainted and to be on set in ten minutes. Ten minutes. Eddie has to be convincingly normal for ten whole minutes. Pfft, that’s laughable, but he’ll give it a shot.

“That guy’s a total asshat.” Steve grumbles.

Oh. Eddie could smother him in kisses for saying that. Lick Steve clean of all that stupid powder and probably die of talc poisoning. Death By Licking a Model is one hell of a way to go.

“Yeah.” Find some new words, Munson. “Major asshat. But he happens to be paying my bills this month, so technically, he’s my favorite major asshat.”

“Oh, same.” Steve laughs. It’s fucking glorious too. Eddie kind of wishes he had brought his microphone so that he could capture such a wonderful sound with high quality recording software. Is that creepy? Maybe he should dial it back. 

... As if. This guy’s hair is sculpted with effortless perfection and his shoulder blades could slice through a French baguette. No way Eddie can dial it back or keep it together.

“So you’re doing the voice work on the commercial, right?” Steve asks.

‘Yup.” Eddie shoves both hands into his pockets. “Indeed I am.” 

Okay, that was borderline Yoda. Get a grip.

Steve seems unfazed though. “That’s cool. Can’t wait to hear what you come up with.”

“Thanks.” Eddie smiles warmly. Nerves mellowing out. “And I can’t wait to see you in action out there.”

“Hope I can give you some good inspiration.” And Steve winks, legit winks at Eddie. Does it like it’s normal too, like he winks at everybody. He probably winks at nuns just to see if he can get them to consider conversion.

Eddie is so hopeless. Fucking tragic at this point.

They walk into the studio and are greeted by a somber, archaic set design. There’s a massive throne in the middle that is draped with fur. 

It’s… tacky. That’s the nicest adjective Eddie has to describe it. Tacky bullshit.

“I thought this was for a cologne ad.” Eddie says, eyeing the snowy backdrop.

Steve nods. “It is.”

“So what’s with the secondhand Game of Thrones set?”

“Mr. Asshat thinks this is his cinematic debut.”

Eddie snorts. Loves that he already has inside jokes with this beautiful, beautiful creature. “Someone should tell Mr. Asshat that this is visual plagiarism.”

“Nah.” Steve runs his hand over the tacky fur piece. Smirks to himself as he speaks. “I say we let him suffer.”

Eddie’s legs wobble. “Damn, you’re hot.”

He sounds ridiculously uncool, so breathy and gone. But Steve shrugs in a non-pitying kind of way, so maybe Eddie's uncoolness is excused. Or expected.

While the camera and lighting crew finalize their positions, Steve takes off his robe, revealing his costume.

Torn, muddied pants. Ripped and clawed to shreds. A billowy white top that’s completely unbuttoned. Un-laced? Eddie’s not entirely sure about the mechanics - just knows that Steve’s chest is out, that’s all he can focus on.

There’s a dented crown that the stylist places next to the throne, right at Steve’s feet. It’s shimmery yet tarnished, catches the light in a kaleidoscope effect.

The product is called The Fallen King, so deductive reasoning tells Eddie that Steve is meant to be the physical embodiment of this scent. He recalls something in the script about his title being slandered by promiscuity and forbidden love. Apparently they’ve bottled up that smell into a cologne. 

Do people really want to smell like a dethroned monarch? That’s a thing? Huh.

Just to make the sexual torture even more unbearable, Eddie gets to spectate alongside Mr. Asshat himself. Which also means that Eddie almost has a center view of Steve’s performance.

Cause that’s exactly what he’s giving. A performance. A full display production of his body, his face. His whole godlike essence. 

It’s unfair how fucked Eddie is from watching Steve pose. He can hold the oddest positions without budging a single tendon. So still. Durable. Strong.

Every last thought in Eddie’s head is impure from that observation. He wants to wrap his fingers around Steve’s muscles until he finally moves, twitches. Eddie wants to watch as Steve’s pretty lips part, falling open with sighs. See how long it takes for those sighs to turn into moans.

Steve slumps back into the throne, legs spread obscenely far apart. His gaze droops low and dark, practically eye-fucking the camera. It’s crazy how jealous Eddie is of that stupid inanimate object. The things he would do to get eye-fucked by that golden sex god up there…

His internal porno gets interrupted by a new pose. A wicked one. Steve is on his knees now, looking up into the camera lens. He sinks into the dreamiest expression. Looks dazed, all spaced-out and helpless. Eddie kneads at the growing heat in his pants with the heel of his palm. Hopes it’s not fucking obvious that he’s so horned up right now.

The director clears his throat and yells over the camera’s constant shuttering. “Can you tilt your head back, Steve?”

And Steve does. So obedient, so exceptional at his job. His head rolls back on his neck, shoulders sagging with the shift of weight.

Eddie is chewing the inside of his cheek, nearly ready to take the horny loss and go jack off in his car. Steve is in the most ideal position now, totally vulnerable. Eddie could fuck him so good like that, let Steve melt into his touch. He’d treat him like treasure, spoil him with dick and praise. Eddie would catch him if his legs give out. Would lick Steve’s kiss-bitten lips until the swelling goes down.

God, Eddie is so sick in the head for conjuring up x-rated scenes like this. In public, surrounded by strangers. Literally on the clock. He seriously needs to get his head checked for having such a whorish imagination.

The shoot ends shortly after that last pose, the one that rocked Eddie’s world. He closes his eyes for a minute, takes a few deep breaths. Tries to inhale some goddamn decency.

“How was it?” Steve heads his way, snaking his arms back into the bathrobe.

Eddie blinks hard. “It was… you were…” And the words stop. Nothing else comes out, his throat is strangled and bare.

Steve gives a soft laugh, nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow. “Guess you do better when there’s a script in front of you, huh?”

Oh. So he’s pretty and darkly playful? This is too good, too delicious.

Eddie wets his bottom lip, recovers quickly. “I do better when there’s not an earthbound angel in my presence.”

“Wow.” Steve raises both eyebrows. “That’s quite the compliment.”

“Oh come on - you must get compliments all the time.”

“Not like that one though.”

“No?”

Steve takes a step into Eddie’s space. “Definitely not.”

They just stare after that - mostly because it’s Eddie’s turn to speak but words are so secondary when there’s this much beauty to behold. Gazing becomes his top priority.

And before the conversation can lead to an exchange of last names or phone numbers, Steve is rushed off by his agent. Maybe his publicist. Maybe his mom, Eddie has no fucking clue. Just someone taking away his shiny new toy. He sort of feels like reenacting that scene in Cast Away when the volleyball drifts into the ocean. Be dramatic as all hell about this ending.

Eddie doesn’t actually jack off in his car, although he really wants to. No, he decides to use all of his adrenaline and pent-up hormones for the voice recording. It gives his vocals this strained, chesty sound. Sinful and corrupt. Cracking with emotion in certain spots, spiking the volume in all the right ways.

It might be too much, a little bit too suggestive for a lousy cologne advertisement.

But as he listens back, Eddie can’t help but picture Steve. Imagining snapshots of him from every angle, especially the unspeakable ones. The recording barely sounds like a script anymore. It almost sounds like Eddie whispering the lines directly into Steve’s ear. A dirty secret between them.

This is it, he thinks. Sends the audio file to his sound mixer without a second read-through, without a retake. This might be the best voiceover Eddie Munson has ever done.

[pedroschka]

not my type

Joseph Quinn x reader

words: 1.9k fluff

Summary: one sided feelings can destroy friendships, so you and Joe make it very clear that you both are not each other's type, pinky promise clear

A/n: @ghostinthebackofyourhead grab your favorite bread and (hopefully) enjoy because I'm your secret Santa!! thanks to @quinnyfairy for organising this <3

Mid laugh, brown eyes crinkling and his head thrown back, that's the blurry image of your best friend in front of you for the last two minutes.

"Joe as much I love to see your little potato head but your screen is frozen."

" ugh, shit! The bloody wifi connection at my parents' is the worst. Wait a second!" his voice on the other end is a bit muffled as he seems to be moving around, trying to fix it.

It was one day after Christmas and you and Joe are trying to have your own little celebration via video call while you both are at your family's and didn't want to wait till you eventually see each other in person again, unpredictable with Joe's busy schedule nowadays anyway. So you both had sent each other's presents via post and now wanted to unpack them together.

So now you sit on your bed in your old bedroom, presents scattered around you and your tablet in front of you with the frozen image of your laughing friend.

" OK, what about now?" Joe's face finally in time again and him waving at the camera

" yes, now get started I already tried peaking but you really are serious about your sticky tape"

" and see how it came in handy" his cocky little smile makes you roll your eyes while grabbing the first present on your left which already has a bit of wrapping paper ripped out, but sticky tape all around it preventing you from making out what it could be.

At the end, you both sit in a colorful mass out of wrapping paper, presents sorted in a little pile beside you, and now updating each other on the newest family tea.

" no! I swear my aunt was full-on gushing about how Eddie looked like her ex-boyfriend's when she was a teen and started showing pictures of you as Eddie all around the dining table, it was soo uncomfortable!" you comically shuddered and Joe's snickering like a little kid at your theatrics.

As comfortable and at ease you were now around him was the complete opposite when you first met each other a year ago.

You sat on your friend's couch, phone in hand, and playing some stupid game, that only seems to come to use in social situations out of ultimate boredom, but trying to look very busy for the people around you. Questioning why your friend even thought it was a good idea to invite you to one of her parties, celebrating whatever with a bunch of her actor friends, when you were the epitome of socially awkward and just overall really bad at meeting new people.

You tried, you really tried to be a part of some conversations, standing in a group full of, on first sight, cliché book extroverts, all of them with interesting lives and using big words talking about different plays, with you just standing there and fake laughing at their jokes you didn't understand and attempting to stop comparing yourself with them. Which didn't work so after a few exhausting hours in which you've been ignored or got an awkward "was nice meeting you" after you ranted too much about a topic you finally could understand you gave up. Your social battery drained and you loathing in self-pity.

Loud cheers and greetings make you look up from your phone, great even more people. The new guest is a very ordinary-looking guy, plain light washed baggy jeans hanging low on his hips, a plain white shirt, sneakers. Not bad on the eye with tousled brown curls as well as brown eyes but not really your type.

Still he held an aura around him that forced you to keep your attention on him, apparently the people around him felt the same effect as they were hanging on every word that was coming out of his mouth. Or is he... Famous around here?! And you are just the only one who has absolutely no idea who he is?

But you're already admiring him for a different reason, Looking so awkward but at the same time so charmingly charismatic and being able to find the right words and topic for each person. You couldn't help to be slightly jealous.

Forced to look down again as he looked across the room and dangerously close in your direction you continued your game, only looking up again as you felt the couch dip as someone sat themselves beside you, and you hastily tried to turn your phone away to not get caught.

"well, that looks fun" shit.

Unknown ordinary looking /maybe famous guy is smiling at you and nodding at your phone

"uggh, kinda" and your brain is letting you down again.

But he doesn't seem bothered by your brain-dead state and tried again to engage you in a conversation, ending up with him having your phone and you, hanging half over his shoulder, explaining to him how to play the game.

"oh, I'm Joe by the way!"

You met Joe a few times after that again and eventually exchanged numbers which resulted in a weird and chaotic friendship. With his ability to make you feel so comfortable around him and just being yourself, he has to endure your ranting over the most ridiculous topics or oversharing the most private things, but it doesn't seem to bother him, on the contrary, he seems to even encourage your weirdness and just adapt to it.

Because of this connection between you both, you lost count of how many times people thought you both were dating or how many times your friends and family tried to play matchmaker, so a pinky promise between you and joe was made that you both are on the same page, that you are not each other's type, both of you already familiar with how one-sided feelings can destroy a friendship, so better making sure at the beginning right?

It was now new years eve and like you planned with Joe in your last call you both were gonna drive over to a friend's house who's throwing a party to celebrate it together, in person this time.

Joe's gonna be at your place to pick you up in nearly 20 minutes and you're still sitting in front of your wardrobe in only your bathrobe and still wet hair, nibbling nervously on your fingernails and looking over all your clothes, eyes wide with panic debating what you should wear to look presentable for him.

Which is absolutely ridiculous because Joe has already seen you in your absolute worst states, coming over to you with pimple cream all over your face, greasy hair, and sloppy oversized shirts with holes and stains you couldn't even explain.

But you haven't seen each other for nearly a month now, well except for the few video calls but that's just different, and now you are a nervous mess, suddenly worried about your appearance and you hate it.

The buzzing of your doorbell makes you jump slightly, spraying the last bit of hairspray on your head and turning the music off, which you needed to hype yourself up, and speedwalking to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Joe's standing in front of you in black slacks and a slightly striped white shirt, the last button undone and a necklace peeking out of it, and you feel your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

With a happy call of your name, he went straight into a hug and you suddenly felt distracted by the smell of his perfume, still the same one you smelt a thousand times but different regardless, Like his arms around you, squeezing you firmly into him, it's like your sensory perception is on high alert and suddenly everything feels more intense.

The car ride to the party is awkward to say at least, your nerves preventing you from coming up with anything other than occasionally humming or nodding as an answer, and after a few more tries from Joe he gave up, thinking maybe you're just nervous again because of all the people that are gonna be there and needed a few more minutes for yourself, so the car becomes silent and you hate it because that was your least concern right now, you felt like a bad friend, not seeing each other for a month and you can't even talk to him because this bloody nervous feeling just won't go away. So you both just stare at the road in front of you.

It's loud and full and lights flickering everywhere and you're so overwhelmed and tense that the weird feeling is forgotten for a moment and you're clinging to Joe, following him around like a lost puppy. Him ordering drinks for you both and chatting with people, trying to include you, taking you with him for smoke breaks, the only time when you both are separated is when one of you has to go to the toilet.

A few minutes before midnight a group of people had gathered on the balcony, with them you and Joe, shouting the countdown to the new year and watching fireworks exploding and illuminating the night sky.

" happy new year!" you screamed in each other's faces and laughed as you tackle each other in a big hug. People around you doing the same or walking around and giving the traditional New Year kiss.

Observing this you both looked at each other and shrugged while giggling, both slightly tipsy, and pecked each other on the lips. Physical contact wasn't unfamiliar to you, both being touchy when around people you feel comfortable enough, small kisses when saying goodbye, or cuddling together on your small sofa when watching some movies weren't new either. What was new was the feeling you felt as your lips met his.

As you separated you looked into each other's eyes, you always thought that his eyes were beautiful, even told him so, but you never felt such strong emotions when looking into them, unable to hold eye contact your gaze trailed to his lips, so full and soft looking and you never felt such a strong urge either to be near them. Subconscious you both lean in again and your lips met again but this time for a real kiss.

Warm flooded your body and you can't think of anything else other than the feeling of his lips against yours. His hands found the back of your neck to bring you even closer and you copied him, trailing your fingers through his curls, both of you starving for each other's presence and hungry for more, captivated and lost in your own little world.

Until a person stumbles into you and you remember again where you are.

Both of you catching your breath as you separated again, waking up from the trance-like state, emotional chaos whirling up in you again because you just made out with your best friend, with which you made a silly pinky promise and made very clear to not be each other's type to save this friendship but now you experienced the best kiss you ever had and when you look at his face now he is so beautiful and you can't help to want to kiss those lips again but you were also so overwhelmed because what the fuck does this all mean now.

Luckily Joe answers your questions as he leans in again for a third kiss, shorter but still as breathtaking.

" I know we promised to be not each other's type but do you wanna go on a date with me?" he asked against your lips and you both giggled as you nodded 'yes' before going into another kiss.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

@faketokufan

"What are you doing, my companions?" Tarou asked, finding that Haruka was hunched over a tablet while Saruhara looked vaguely disapproving.

"I want to download this emulator so I can play it and make it more accurate for my manga, but I can't figure out how to do it! This game is as old as me, can you believe it?"

"Which game?" Tarou came over to look at the screen, finding it was Pokemon Fire Red.

"I asked Kijino if he had an old Gameboy hanging around, and he said he didn't have one! I thought he was target audience age for that, though? Ugh, he's so not helpful."

"And now, a haiku:

Seasons pass slowly Animals live their short lives And time will move on."

Tarou and Haruka ignored him.

"You know how to do this stuff, right, Tarou? All this fancy tech stuff?"

"Does your aunt have a Gameboy?" Tarou asked, accepting the tablet without answering the question. He wasn't sure if he knew the "fancy tech stuff" but then again, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out.

"I've been banned from touching a lot of her stuff," Haruka sighed, tossing her hair. "Even though I'm so cute and perfect."

Tarou looked up at her for that one, before looking back at the tablet.

"Hey, actually, what's everyone's favorite Pokemon, I should draw that too! Saruhara-san?"

"I don't know what you are speaking of."

Haruka took out her phone and searched something up. "Here's the Pokedex, pick one!"

Saruhara took the phone, scrolling through whatever Haruka had found. He'd tilt his head every so often, making faces at the screen like he wasn't sure he liked what he was looking at.

"Woah, you have a phone now?" Tsubasa asked as he slid in next to Saruhara, grabbing a menu and hiding his face in it.

"No, this is Haruka's."

"Ah."

"Tsubasa-san, what's your favorite Pokemon?"

"Mr. Mime."

"Ew."

"Shit, bye," Tsubasa said as an officer came into Donbura, making him open a Door and leave.

"Did you figure it out?" Haruka asked as Saruhara handed the phone back and went back to drinking the tea that had been ignored in front of him.

"What is Tarou figuring out?" Sonoi took the place Tsubasa had been in.

"Haruka wants to download an emulator for Pokemon Fire Red," Tarou explained.

Sonoi frowned. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Nope!" Haruka sang out.

"You should just get the original version," Sonoi said, taking the tablet away from Tarou.

"But he can figure it out, I know he can! Besides, if I could get the original version, I would have!"

"Can't you just use your Points for that?" Sonoi pointed out.

"That's a waste of Points, come on," Haruka said with a roll of her eyes. "Still can't believe Kijino didn't have one, otherwise I would have used his!"

"Why do you need to play this, again?" Saruhara interrupted.

"Because last time Sonoza said it was clear I had never touched the game, and ate all my paper."

Tarou took the tablet back, trying to figure out the site Haruka was using.

Sonoi yanked it out of his hands, turning the tablet off with a huff.

"If you must play this, find a different way to play it that doesn't involve…this," Sonoi commanded.

As Haruka protested, Master watched the whole thing with bored eyes, a Gameboy right next to the register.

[nemir]

any advice for new writers ?

This is such a great question, and I'm honestly flattered and shocked you'd ask me! 🥺 It might be a bit of a long answer so strap in!

Read! I mean, okay, yes, obvious answer and chances are if you're a writer, then you probably love reading. But what I mean by this is, expand your reading - try out some genres you've never read before, even things you think you may not enjoy as much. It's always good to try new things, and you may even be pleasantly surprised or even inspired! And it doesn't even have to be regular ol' books. Fanfiction, poetry, scripts - anything that catches your fancy. If it looks even a little interesting, read it!

Get a notebook! Bring it with you e v e r y w h e r e. Stick that shit in your bag/purse/whatever, and write down everything. If you're listening to a song and get inspired, write it down. If you see something interesting, or inspiring, write it down! Even just writing your stream of consciousness. It doesn't have to be a physical notebook, of course, but I find it helps more than just typing into a notes app on your phone/tablet. And it doesn't even have to be a super fancy journal or anything like that; something from the dollar store will do just fine. The point is to just jot down anything and everything that crosses your mind that you find interesting. A lot of times I'll have an "ohhh, I should write that down" moment and either forget to/forget about my notes app lol, or don't have anything on me to write with and it's super frustrating.

Look up writing prompts! These are great little exercises to do if you want to write, but don't know what to write. There are a ton of them here on tumblr, and I know there are probably thousands on sites like AO3, wattpad, etc. You don't even have to write your own characters in these either; go wild!

Don't limit yourself, but don't force yourself! Don't EVER feel like you need to write a lot in order to be a good writer. The length of a novel/fanfic/whatever is not what makes you a good writer. There are a lot of bad authors out there who have successfully published books that could have ended 10 chapters ago. So don't feel like you need to hit a specific character limit for your writing to be good. That said, if while you're writing and you're reaching the end point of your piece and you feel like there could be more, then fuck it! Add more!

Get a proofreader/friend to help! Run ideas by them, ask them to proofread, or just read over your piece to see if it's too much/not enough/makes sense/etc. Getting an outside perspective is a huge help - and hopefully your friend will be the type to tell you what's what and not be afraid to give their perspective or opinion LOL.

Tackle a bigger project! If you're feeling confident, or just want to do something different, try taking on something like NaNoWriMo. Just please, PLEASE (and this goes for EVERYONE, not just new writers) remember to limit the hours you're writing in a day, and to take breaks. A silly little writing challenge isn't worth sacrificing self-care over. If you don't get it done, it's OKAY. Most people don't, honestly. It's just a way to challenge writers. But it could be fun! Especially the set-up, coming up with your idea, etc.

Remember to have fun! Don't let yourself get to the point where writing feels like a chore. It's okay to take breaks - I encourage it, honestly. Could be a few days, a few weeks, even a month! Who cares? Take all the time in the world that you need. If it allows you to get back to a point where writing feels fun again, then great!

Do not compare yourself to others! This is one of the hardest ones, but one of the most important. If you're sitting there, reading a book or someone's fic and thinking to yourself, "Ugh, they're so good at writing. Look at how popular their stuff is! I wish I could write like them/I'll never write as well as them." then you might as well stop, because you won't ever write as well as them with that mindset. You can respect and be appreciative, and still love, someone's writing without putting your own down! You obviously are able to acknowledge your own creativity and flair for words if you WANT to write in the first place, so why put yourself down?

We all start somewhere! Honestly, the cringey shit we wrote when we were all young may come back to haunt us once in a while, but if you own it and use it as a way to compare where you started vs where you are now? It's so nice. I mean, there are things I wrote a year and a half ago that I'm just kinda like, "ohhh god why did i write this, this is so bad" but that's GOOD. If you can acknowledge the faults in your old pieces, then great! But remember that everybody was there at one point and it is not a bad thing to think your old stuff was cringe - you weren't the only one, nor will you ever be.

Put your writing out there! It can be a little scary putting your writing out there on display for the world to see, but it's a good way to get feedback, and honestly a good way to just... save your writing. I personally stay away from places like wattpad (just a personal preference!) but there are TONS of writing hosting websites out there that you can put your stuff up on! It's also a good way to get some feedback! Just don't let unconstructive/purposely negative feedback get you down. Of course, not everybody will like what you write, but poopoo on them, you write for yourself, nobody else.

CHRIST that was incredibly long I am so sorry but I just had more shit come to me as I wrote. I hope that this helps you, friend!! Feel free to ask me more questions, or come to me if you need any help! I appreciate you and you've got my support 100%!!!! you GOT this!

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Chapter 5: So Last Season

Summary: Now that Adrien is no longer Chat Noir he doesn't have to get hit all the time. Unfortunately, his luck doesn't seem to have gotten the memo... Or has it?

------------------------------

"So, how're you holding up?"

"Please, Adrien, it's my mother! I'm positively ecstatic!"

"Exactly. It's your mother."

Chloe looked down for a second before her eyes snapped back up, any doubts she had hidden in an instant. "She's finally coming back! I'll finally be able to show her what she's been missing." Chloe tossed her ponytail back to emphasize the unspoken Me. "Now, I've gotta go. Sabrina insisted we do an 'emotional support routine' or whatever beforehand. Ciao!"

Sighing, Adrien stared at his phone for a moment before putting it down. He knew Chloe was grateful for Sabrina's help but it was still a struggle getting her to admit it.

Or getting her to admit how much Audrey had hurt her.

It was one thing to travel halfway around the world for your career and leave your daughter behind. It was something else entirely to completely ignore her. In all the years since Audrey left Chloe hadn't received a single birthday gift, phone call or text message. Adrien would know. Chloe would've bragged about it endlessly if her mother had taken so much as two seconds to acknowledged her existence-

Adrien's foot jerked, striking the vanity table and making the connected mirror tremble. Heart suddenly pounding against his chest as tension built up in his forehead. Distressed expression reflecting back at him.

Breathe, Adrien. Breathe.

Slowly, he inhaled.

Then exhaled.

Again.

Good.

He was okay.

Adrien was okay.

Guilt pricked like a thorn for thinking of his own problems when Chloe needed him. Adrien crushed it with his anger and annoyance but it was still there. Like a splinter that wouldn't come out.

I hate you.

Swiping out of the video chat Adrien tapped on Nino's number. It rang... and rang... and rang...

He's annoyed with me. I did something wrong again and Nino doesn't want to-

Adrien smacked both sides of his face. No, dummy! Nino's just busy or something. Stop that!

It wasn't every day a teenage DJ provided the music for Paris Fashion Week, after all. Nino had to make sure all his equipment was working properly.

The door to his dressing room burst open.

"Adrien, your friend Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be bringing the last article of the new Gabriel line," Nathalie announced. "Your father expects everything to be perfect for Audrey Bourgeois."

"Doesn't he always?" Adrien deadpanned.

Nathalie stared at his watery eyes before typing something into her tablet. "Your performance on catwalks only has a 99% success rate. He expects you'll do better."

Father thinks you're a failure just like everyone else. He-

Shut up! Adrien felt something heavy settle in his chest.

One of the makeup artists came rushing in and Nathalie gestured her towards Adrien. "Touch up his eyes," she instructed and then left.

Jaw clenching, Adrien sat perfectly still as the makeup artist did her job. He was never entirely sure what the staff thought about him. 'Professional' was a word that was tossed around a lot. That used to fill him with a little pride... Before all of this.

The last person to suggest that a thirteen year old mourning his mother wasn't 'professional' so much as he was 'depressed' had never come back to work... Oh. Adrien had forgotten about that.

Finishing quickly, the makeup artist left too. Leaving Adrien with his thoughts. He didn't want to be with his thoughts at the moment. They were distracting and Nathalie had not been subtle.

I hate-

His phone vibrated as it received someone's text.

Ni-Non: hey dude!

Ni-Non: it's crazy over here man

Ni-Non: break a leg! ;)

Adrien smiled as his unpleasant mood faded to the back of his mind... And if he saw similarities between his family and Chloe's, well, that's why he could empathize with her.

Adrien: That's theater but I guess there's not much difference.

Adrien: Thanks. ^_^

 ---------------

There was a knock at his door. Adrien stopped fidgeting in the awkward suit to go answer it.

"Hello, Marinette." Adrien smiled in greeting.

"Oh, uh, hello!" Marinette gave a small wave as she stepped up the short stairs and-

Adrien braced himself with one foot while his hands went to her shoulders. Steadying Marinette as she quickly removed her weight from him.

"Oh! Uh, sorry." Marinette looked away in embarrassment at having tripped into him.

"... No worries!" Adrien smiled as he shook his head. Marinette seemed... subdued. Reaching down to pick up the hat that had fallen. "Oh, no." The artificial feather Marinette made for his allergies had come loose. "I hope it's not too hard to fix it."

Marinette looked down. "Uh, y'know, it doesn't really matter. This hat is a complete failure anyway."

"What? No, it's not!" Adrien rose to his feet quickly in shock. "Why would you say that?"

"Because... the queen of fashion, Audrey Bourgeois, saw it and hated it!" Marinette's hands covered her face, voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I really messed up. I'm a total no talent!" Her arms wrapped around herself in a hug. "Please, don't put it on," she pleaded.

Adrien's heart went out to Marinette as she laid her insecurities bare. "Marinette, everything's going to be fine." He searched for the proper spot to reattach the feather,  fiddling with it as Adrien reassured her. "Your hat looks great. I think it's awesome and so does... my father." Adrien cleared his throat as he managed to fix her hat. "Otherwise he wouldn't have picked it for me. Look!"

Putting Marinette's hat on Adrien walked across the dressing room like he was already performing. Striking a few poses to ease Marinette's anxiety. "See?"

It seemed to work as Marinette gave a small smile. "You got that catwalk down," she complimented.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Really? Thank you."

"Ah-hem," Nathalie cleared her throat. "We have to go." Without waiting for Marinette she turned on her heel and started walking towards the viewing area.

Adrien rolled his eyes but smiled at Marinette's back as she hurried to catch up. Turning back to look at himself in the mirror Adrien scanned his outfit. The suit may have been generic and a few seams too close to last year's entry but Marinette's hat was fire.

"Okay!" Adrien was gonna go out there and make sure they recognized Marinette's talent!

---------------

Holding Marinette's hat to his chest Adrien stuck his head out in a decidedly 'unprofessional' manner. Spotting Marinette's family and a bunch of his friends in the first row. Adrien's blond head caught Nino's eye from across the catwalk and he gave him a thumbs up.

Adrien waved as he ducked back behind the corner before the photographers could take any pictures of the Agreste heir acting like a kid.

You got this, Adrien. Nino's DJ-ing, your classmates came -even though most of them don't care about fashion- with any luck Alix and Kim will tease you about it for the next month.

That would give Adrien the opportunity to dish out a bunch of jokes he never got the chance to use!

The music started; that was his cue.

You got this!

Adrien posed on the runway. Camera flashes already starting. Strutting down the catwalk Adrien smirked at Marinette. See? Stopping at the platform's end he posed in various angles for the photographers. Nino seemed to be enjoying himself too and that made Adrien's smile come much more naturally.

A small eruption boomed behind him and Adrien turned to see Hawkmoth's latest fashion disaster. Gasping, as his heart started hammering in his chest.

"A fashion show without the Queen of Style!? Glitter-ally unacceptable!" The akuma villain announced. "Where's that ungrateful Gabriel Agreste. I demand that he kneels before me!"

Ugh, what has he done now?

"My father isn't here," Adrien snapped in annoyance. Hearing people running for the exits.

"Well, then. If fashion disaster daddy isn't here I'll just have to settle for Agreste Junior! You're fired!"

Adrien's eyes widened as he stepped back. Golden glitter exploding everywhere as his body became numb and his senses dark-

-Glowing ladybugs swirled around him as Adrien had the disorienting feeling of laying  down when he could've sworn he'd been standing. Glancing around, Adrien realized he was now at the Eiffel Tower.

"Adrik- Adrien!" Chloe tackled him as he stood, throwing her arms around him. "I was so scared!"

Adrien blinked in surprise as Chloe set her head on his shoulder. Not letting him go... Adrien smiled as he hugged her back. Enjoying this genuine display of affection.

"Pound it!"

Head snapping towards the sound Adrien saw another Black Cat, this one a girl with long, reddish hair, fist bump Ladybug. They grinned at each other in post battle relief.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

A chill to rival Frozer's ice covered Adrien from head to toe. It was one thing to see Ladybug working with a different Black Cat on the news. Quite another to have his replacement. Three. Frickin. Meters. In front of him!

Chloe didn't notice... Or rather Adrien didn't notice when she'd let go to help her mother. Who tried to fire her own daughter as thanks.

Adrien jerked his eyes away from the superhero duo-

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

-Away from the Miraculous holders and forced himself to listen to whatever the Bourgeois were saying. Ears ringing as Ladybug and the Black Cat talked about something behind him...

"Oh, mom. If only you knew what a great team we made!" Chloe trailed after her mother as they walked down the tower's stairs; attempting to capture her attention. "We fired a bunch of incompetents. It was awesome. We should really spend more time together! What if I went back to New York with you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Casserole- Eh, Chloe!" Audrey dismissed. "First I have to get back to Gabriel Agreste's fashion show. And they better..."

Adrien's eyes narrowed as he looked down from the railing, his grip on it tightening. Heat from a growing indignation melting the ice he felt. What did she just call Chloe?

"Adrien Agreste, right? I can give you a lift back if you want."

His tensed body jerked in surprise as Adrien realized Ladybug was standing right behind him. Throat and chest constricting as his thoughts whirled. Spots darkened his vision as he felt lightheaded. Adrien's knuckles becoming white, the metal railing digging into his skin. A single thought rose above the ringing in his ears.

I don't wanna talk to her.

Giving his best model smile, Adrien schooled his features. "Ah, thanks but-" he pointed down, "-I should really check on them."

"O-oh! Of course!"

Ladybug's face was out of focus but Adrien could still feel the melancholy in her voice.

Powering past his queasy stomach Adrien made his way to the stairs. The sound of Ladybug's yo-yo whirring reached his ears; signaling her departure. Adrien took a shuddering gasp as he leaned against a metal pillar for support. Body suddenly limp.

Breath accelerating Adrien tried to calm himself. Why was he up here? Had- Had Audrey's blast mind controlled him? Again!? He couldn't breathe.

Adrien sank to his knees as he felt his skin crawl at the idea of that- that- asshole reaching into his mind and taking away his free will. He hated it! He HATED it!

Gasping as his rage broke him out of the panic, Adrien steadied his breathing... He wanted- no, needed to know what happened... Which meant getting up and moving forward... Forcing himself to his feet Adrien wiped the sweat from his brow and followed the others down.

---------------

"Remind me to tell your father to fire the person in charge of the Eiffel Tower elevators..." Audrie panted. "This is... unacceptable... utterly unacceptable!"

"Of course, mom. Oh!" Chloe glanced down to see what she'd stumbled on.

Adrien looked up as he fanned himself with Marinette's hat.

And dropped it.

He stared open mouthed at the small, black, octagonal box in Chloe's hands. Heartbeat leaping into his throat.

What the hell is THAT doing here!?

"Ooh! What's this?" Chloe turned the box around in her hands but didn't open it.

Adrien suddenly forgot his exhaustion and rushed to her side. The lie coming easily to his lips. "Oh, I recognize that! They sell them at antique shops."

"Ew, it's old! Get it away from me!" Chloe practically hurled it at Adrien.

Catching it easily. A thrill ran up Adrien's arms and down his spine as the box made contact with his skin. The hairs at the back of his neck standing on end.

Chloe dusted her hands and kept walking. Glancing nervously at her mother. Hoping Audrey hadn't seen her with something so outdated.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! The voice in his head said.

Shut up, Adrien told it as he stared at the unknown Miraculous in his hand. Heartbeat hammering in his chest. But it wasn't from fear. No, it was... anticipation.

The corners of Adrien's lips curled upwards.

------------------------------

Notes: Oh, would you look at that. I'm back! It only took... eight months!

[lonelyghosts-stuff]

Marvel’s What If Episode 7 Reaction

No no this is the opposite of what I wanted. More Loki! Not less!

If they don’t have Thor being an absolute idiot without Loki being his voice of reason I’m gonna be upset

Wait what the hell I saw Seth Green in the opening credits lmao??? Now I’m just thinking about Chris Griffin

DARCY

Wow they got Jane back too

Soooo how do they know about aliens?

“HOLY MOLY” lmao

Hey thor my life isn’t that dull… okay fine that’s a lie

Sooo Thor is a frat boy?

YOOOO I NEED A SCREENSHOT OF THAT ART WITH THOR AND LOKI

ALL OF IT

Soooo in this world, Odin was a good dude and didn’t kidnap Loki and gave him back to Laufey? (Didnt Laufey abandon him tho since he was too small? I guess in this universe they simply… lost their prince? Lmao?)

Thor didn’t have Loki as his voice of reason I called it.

Night night Odin

Lmao Chad Frigga dipping Odin as soon as he’s asleep

I wonder if they got Idris Elba back for Heimdall?

“We are going to the most backward, backwater planet that not even Heimdall pays attention to.” D,: Thor why you gotta do me dirty like that???

Chris Hemsworth is definitely a better voice actor than some others

Oh yo it be Skurge

Darcy into probing huh?

(Romantic Music Playing) lmao

Man I love Darcy

Poor Howard the Duck lmao (oh yea that’s Seth green)

Skrulls huh

Honestly surprised Thor knows all of these planets. Including the grandmaster??? In the sacred timeline he didn’t even know Sakaar existed.

Wait so, are the Asgardians on good terms with Jotunheim then? If so, I wanna see party loki. Or maybe he’s too reserved for that. I wonder how Laufey raised him? IF WE DONT SEE JOTUN LOKI IM GONNA RIOT

Thor destroyed a star. That sounds about right

“Now that was an excellent party. You know, we lost Fandral for three days. Found him in a barn, curled up next to a baby goat. It was classic. Isn’t that right, Fandral?” “I NAMED HIM GARY!” “Yeah, you did.” “YEA GOATS!” Okay. Screw everyone else in the MCU. I love Fandral now. He’s the GOAT, pun intended

Oh not a star, he killed a whole planet.

I thought Asgardians were supposed to be more advanced than earth but making a tablet is so complicated?

Howard and Darcy was not a pair I thought expected

Yo it’s nebula and korg? So where’s Thanos? How is nebula allowed to go partying with Thanos looking for the infinity stones?

Drax too? Isn’t he in prison? And then Valkyrie? Seems like a lot more than just Thor being an only child is different in this universe. Most of these dudes should hypothetically be in prison or on super serious missions. And I just thought, isn’t Howard the duck imprisoned by the Collector? What’s the timeline for this?

DARCY MARRIES HOWARD THE DUCK? GIRL YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN HIM AND HIS CORKSCREW WANG!

Aaaaaand Jane and Thor got magic and science tattoos. Mighty fast character progression.

Oh? Hookups? That took a turn.

Awwwww Fandral snuggling with a bunch of Chinchilla looking animals <3

Unknown caller?

Dammit Rumlow

Rocket???

Acting director??? What happened to Nick???

KORG NO

Damn everyone crashed at Jane’s

I mean, didn’t seem like too much of a threat

PHIL!!!

Lmao the world isn’t gonna be destroyed by parties?

Oh Carol Danvers?

Okay so…. Lemme get this straight..

Loki and an army of aliens attacking the world? Shield: “nah not a threat.” Robot with robot army threatening to destroy the whole planet “nah Carol has better things to do.” A partying dude from space with no ill intent but just doesn’t seem to understand consequences? “CALL CAPTAIN MARVEL WE NEED HER!!!” Yea okay Shield

Thor loves waffles

LOKI

JOTUN LOKI

HES HERE

LOKI!!!

HOLY CRAP HES HUGE

HE HAS ICE HORNS

See everything would be better without Odin’s interference.

(That’s what she said)

YAY THEYRE FRIENDS

“You’re my brother form another mother man.” YOOOOOO

Loki just sang “Brothers foreveeeeerrrrr!” I can’t—

Aaaaaand fart jokes… “did you boom?” “I never boom. I only boom in private.” Dammit marvel I hoped you were better than this.

LOKI MAKE A WISH

White snake? Lmao where did she get that name lol.

What’s wrong with a party tho? Is this really top priority? Yea they destroyed another planet, but you never explained how

Why doesn’t she sound like Brie Larson? She’s still acting for Marvel Studios so it’s interesting they couldn’t get her for it… unless it is her and I just can’t remember how her voice sounds

Was that punch really necessary? Dude wasn’t posing a threat to anyone.

“You know, there’s a Midgardian word for women like you.” THOR NO—

“PARTY POOPER!” Oh thank God

“This ones for fury” but it wasn’t even Thor that hit him? It was korg and on accident! Cmon carol, I had hoped you’d be smarter than this and more reasonable. Not resorting to violence when nothing has even escalated…

Haha hammer to the face

And the back of the head lmao

BAHAHAHAHA HE JUST SMACKED HER INTO ANOTHER COUNTRY

THOR DONT BOOP STONEHENGE

Dammit Thor

Lmao I love that the countries have their names on them.

Okay just stay and fight here away from civilian population

Marvel really giving us what we want with the most powerful characters fighting

Mary Sue Captain Marvel

Her lipstick has stayed perfect somehow

Fighting in a storm eh? Can’t see how this could go wrong

Haha hammer timeout

Lmao I wanna see Frigga put Thor in a timeout

They’re chanting pooper at her. Is this elementary school again?

Bruh I just realized, Thor is supposed to be acting king while Odin is in Odin sleep lmao. I bet Asgard is going to either be in the best peace ever without Thor or utterly destroyed.

Leave south and north Dakota alone lol

Lmao I love Darcy

YAY GARY THE GOAT WAS SAFE

Wow Jane used the L word fast

Kicking Jane out of the helicarrier? Yea smart move kicking off the person who actually knows anything about this albeit she is a little blinded by love

Giant Loki holding a tiny phone

BAHAHAAHAHA “hey earth girl, you haven’t got a friend, have you!” YES LOKI ITS ME. MARRY ME

Stop throwing phones lmao

BRUH HOW IS SURTUR NOT EVIL EITHER? AND STOP FLIRTING WITH THE STATUE OF LIBERTY.

NO HE DESTROYED HER ARM LMAO

There goes the power grid

NOT THE SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE

Lmao there he goes

WHY DID KORG HAVE A PACIFIER IN HIS MOUTH

Bout time Heimdall popped in

Aaaaaand Jane got abducted by heimdall

Seeing as Heimdall hasn’t said anything, I’m assuming they didn’t get Idris back lol.

How is shield so chill on murdering Thor? Yes he’s destructive but they’re resorting to killing him so fast instead of talking to him! No one has even told him he’s putting the planet at risk! Dudes too dumb to know on his own!

JANE STOP DRINKING

Damn Maria Hill I had higher hopes for you

Lying Thor

Okay so shield trusts Frigga to help, but still irks me that shield was so trigger/nuke happy… seems the opposite of what we’ve seen of them (ugh just gotta ignore it and chock it up to this being an alternate reality)

Ew Drax

Loki calling the other jotuns “ice bros” lmao

It’s also mantis and Yondu!!

wait how did grandmaster just teleport away like the bifrost?

Nice going thor. You big hunky dummy

“MY MOTHER IS COMING.” Good lord is this high school now lmao???

How do they all know Frigga and why are they all afraid?

Damn the bifrost takes a lot longer than I would have expected

No no Thor the tower of pisa is meant to be tilted—oh whatever

Wait, but I don’t see loki helping, is he gonna be up to something last minute to ruin Thor’s cover up lmao?

I don’t believe Frigga would be tricked this easily lmao

Thor you are such a bad liar

Lmao here comes carol

Hahaha how did mjolnir get so trashed

Wow thor is so much taller than Jane

Wow this Jane and Thor seem to have more chemistry than the sacred timeline version ever did

Wait I want resolve for Loki!!

Uh oh

WHAT

ULTRON VISION WITH THE INFINITY STONES?? HOW

No resolution for that??? Well then. Rip this universe too lmao

Damn I wanted more Loki

There better be a Loki centric episode sometime. If they didn’t it’d a huge missed opportunity from marvel

Okay yea looking at the credits, Carol Danvers wasn’t played by Brie Larson but a lady named Alexandra Daniels. Odd they didn’t get Brie Larson.

Probably my favorite episode so far even with how absurd it was. A lot more upbeat than the past few ones with a better resolve to the story imo.

Also, if anyone can provide me of screenshots of Loki from this episode I would be very grateful

[twdormleaderswap]

Visits from the Vice Dorm Leaders

     Trey stood outside of the Pomefiore dorm. He wanted to check in on Riddle. Sure, he’s seen him around school, but not a lot. Plus a lot of Pomefiore students Rook drag him away during lunch, so Trey doesn’t get to see Riddle a lot. The Heartslabyul vice dorm leader heads inside. He was amazed with the dorm’s interior. There were pillars of marble, red carpets, velvet curtains, and pretty people everywhere. He stopped a passing student, Epel.

“Excuse me. Sorry, but can I get some help?”

“Oh, you are Heartslabyul’s vice dorm leader, right?”

“That’s right. Is Riddle here?”

“Yeah. Riddle-senpau is in his quarters. Follow me.”

     Epel led Trey through the dorm. The dorm leader’s quarters was sealed by a large, double door. This dorm did not hold back on anything. The student knocked on the door. A voice could be heard from the other side.

“What is it?”

“There is some here to see you, Riddle-senpai.”

“Send them in.”

     The door opened and the student let Trey into the room before closing the door behind him. In the room, Riddle was sitting at the vanity and practicing makeup. He turned to look at who came for him.

“Trey…”

“Hey, Riddle. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah. I’ve been meaning to talk with you regarding Heartslabyul, but Rook-senpai keeps dragging me away to eat with the others.”

“Haha. Wow, you got a serious glow up since being here.”

“Huh?”

“Literally. Your skin is glowing.”

“Oh, that’s the highlighter. Vil’s special highlighter is very bright and luminescent. Shine a light on me and I’m pretty sure my skin will become as bright as these chandeliers.” Then Riddle repeated Trey’s words in his head. “Wait, I know you weren’t just talking about the highlighter when you said ‘glow up!’ What did you mean by that?”

“Nothing bad!” Trey held up his hands in defense.

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

     Ruggie smiled and hummed a little tune as he walked down the pathway to Heartslabyul. He thought he’d pay a surprise visit to his lazy senpai. He heard a groan in a low voice and took that as a sign. He walked into the Rose Maze and saw Leona in a nice cape and squeezing out water from his hair. He, himself, was also soaking wet. Ruggie did not hold back his laughter.

“Pfft-aHAHAHA!!! What happened to you? Hahaha!” Ruggie held his stomach because he thought the view before him was so funny. Leona froze, knowing that laugh and voice all too well. He stood up and looked over at Ruggie.

“Shut it, Ruggie. It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is. Nope. Sorry. It’s REALLY funny.”

“Ugh, whatever.”

“So, what happened to you?”

“Cater Diamond happened.”

“Elaborate.”

“Apparently I broke one of the hundreds of rules of the dorm.”

“How does that relate to you being soaking wet?”

“Riddle’s magic was used to punish those who broke the dorm rules, but I can’t do it. So I gave Cater the hose to spray any rule breakers…including me…” That’s when Ruggie broke. He fell onto the ground on his back, laughing and clutching his stomach. Leona groaned, but he got an idea. He took his new cape and squeezed the water out of it over the laughing hyena.

“Haha-AGH! Hey!” Ruggie immediately stopped laughing and glared at Leona, who had a smug look on his face.

“You dare to laugh at me? I am not just the King of Beasts, I am the King of Hearts. Laugh any longer then…off with your head.”

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

     Jade, along with Floyd, stood outside the dorm of Ignihyde. Floyd wanted to see Azul in his new natural habitat. The inside the dorm was just as dark and gloomy as the outside. There were torches lit with blue fire along the walls. Out of nowhere, Azul appears before the twins with a gentle smile.

“Welcome to Ignihyde, Jade. Floyd. I’m glad you could come visit.”

“Whoh!” Floyd jumps a little from the sudden appearance. “When did you start sneaking around like that?”

“I saw you two approach the dorm through the security cameras. Plus, we have an alarm for when someone enters the dorm area through the Ignihyde Mirror.” Jade chuckles.

“That’s very impressive. So, how are you doing here in the dorm of technology?”

“I’m doing just fine. Follow me. I’ll show you to our main research room.”

     Azul smiles and leads the twins to the research room. Once there, the twins were in shock and awe. The room was black, but it was covered in lights, screens, and wires.

“This is where many experiments and research takes place. Once everyone saw you two on the cameras, they retreated to their rooms to do their research there.”

“Eh? Are we that scary?” Floyd asked.

“Perhaps, but everyone here is rather shy. Try not to take too much offense to it. With my reputation, everyone is still rather cautious of me.”

“I take it you haven’t made any deals here yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. No one has been courageous enough to ask for anything. They’re all content with their technology.”

     As Jade and Azul talked about the dorm, Floyd wandered off to look at all the gadgets. He touched a button, and a bright blue screen projected up in front of him. He took off his glove, placed his finger on it and swiped it, a new screen showing up. 

“Whoa! This is so cool! How did they do this?” Floyd’s amazement caught Azul’s and Jade’s attention. Azul walks over.

“Ah, that’s one of the earlier projects from several years ago. They combined the technology with image projection from classroom projectors and the touch sensitivity of our phones. With a little magic, the projections ‘corporeal’ of sorts.”

“Huh?” Floyd looked at Azul in confusion. “How does that even work?”

“The projectors are connected to the dorm’s computer system, so the projection will show a computer home screen. Using magic, the alumni were able to give the projection a physical form while maintaining it’s transparent look. Combining that with the touch screen technology has created a physical, transparent projection of sorts. When you touch the screen, the presence of your finger interrupts the flow of the photo and electric current, allowing you to swipe the screen like our phones.” Azul shows them how it works and reveals that you can use it with gloves. He turns back to the twins. “Of course, this is old technology now and is still being improved. At the moment, we’re trying to figure out how to compress it so it can be used mobile. So far, it’s only been uploaded to and tested on Idia’s tablet. The tenants believe that it might be compatible with the mobile phone soon.”

“…” Jade and Floyd look at him and are silent.

“What?” Azul looks at them in confusion. Floyd speaks for both him and Jade mostly him.

“You have become a huge nerd.”

“Wha-…hey!”

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

     Lilia hummed and walked through the gardens of Scarabia. He stopped to watch a purple peacock walk by. He was amazed an animal could be such a vivid color. He followed it through the garden, only to be stopped by the dorm leader.

“Can you refrain from acting suspicious around the dorm?” Lilia looked up and smiled.

“Malleus! It’s been a while! How’s the new dorm treating you?”

“What are you doing here, Lilia?”

“Just came by for a visit! All of the vice dorm leaders are visiting our old leaders today. Since the switch, everything is crazy. But every dorm seems to be settling quite nicely with their new leaders. Kalim has really brightened up Diasomnia.”

“I see.”

“Nice outfit by the way. Love the gold on you. It’s a big contrast from your black, green, and silver.”

“It’s not bad. A little more revealing than I’d like, but it works for the heat.”

“So, how’s the dorm? I heard that it’s usually a party palace.”

“It’s alright, I guess. Everyone keeps their distance, so it’s not that much different from Diasomnia.”

“I think this is a good opportunity for you.”

“How is anything about this situation good?”

“You can learn to lighten up a bit. Form some bonds maybe or get other people to get to know you.”

“We’ll see about that. By the way, should you really be here with Kalim as Diasomnia’s dorm leader?”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Lilia smiled care freely. Knowing Kalim, Malleus sort of doubted that.

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

     Once Rook arrived at the drylands of Savanaclaw, he couldn’t imagine how Vil must be keeping up with his beauty and moisturized skin. He found Jack and got him to take him to “Vil’s” room. The room was very clean and organized. Vil was at the desk with a hand mirror and doing his makeup.

“Knock knock.” Rook said to get Vil’s attention. The dorm leader looked up and smiled. He got up and walked over to Rook.

“Rook, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were visiting? If I had known you’d be coming over, I would have made myself more presentable.”

“Fear not, fairest of them all, you are still beautiful. I’m impressed you’ve stayed so hydrated out here.”

“Well, thanks to that toner I got from Azul, my skin has remained moisturized and smooth. As for my hair, it’s a struggle to get it to remain silky and shiny.”

“You are amazing and beautiful as ever, Roi de Poison. Parfait.”

“Thank you. I try.”

“By the way, I LOVE the leather jacket. It suits you very well.”

“You think so? I’m rather thankful for the long sleeves, as it’s more fashionable. I am NOT wearing those vests. The long sleeves are a nightmare because of the heat, but I am not letting my arms tan from the sun. It’s hard enough avoiding it to prevent my face from tanning and aging.” Vil flips his hair and sighs.

“You know, you should try and put Epel in this getup.” Rook suggested, not being serious. Vil does and thinks about it.

“Well, he’s not exactly meant for this look. It would clash with his delicate beauty. But, if I can fill out this leather than so can he. I wonder if there are any spare uniforms around. I’ll have to ask Ruggie when he gets back.”

“Wait, what?”

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

     Ortho entered the Mostro Lounge, knowing that his big brother would be there somewhere. He was guided to a seat and ordered a drink, since he can’t just wander around to look for his brother. When he ordered, he also requested to see his brother. The Octavinelle student nodded and went to get the new manager. Ortho happily looked around the lounge as he waited for his drink and brother to arrive. When his drink was placed in front of him, he looked up to see his big brother serving him.

“Hey, big brother!”

“Nice to see you again, Ortho.” Idia took a seat with Ortho so they can talk. “What are you doing here? I didn’t hear a thing about you coming over.”

“I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while since we could be together.”

“It has. Oh, how is your body? Do you need any updates? I can do them right now since you’re here.”

“I’m alright. Mr. Azul is a fast learner and has been giving me updates.”

“Wow…he’s really smart if he’s able to learn that quickly.”

“But I might need a new update since I haven’t had one in a while.”

“Alright. Finish up your drink and we can go.”

     Ortho nods and happily spends some ore time with his brother. The two spent some time talking and catching up. Ortho shared what’s been happening at Ignihyde and how he is sort of like Azul’s mentor. Azul was a fast learner and picked up technological terminology in a heartbeat. Once Ortho finished his drink, the brothers got up and went to “Idia’s” room. He connected Ortho to his computer and began the upgrade. Once finished, the two stayed together some more.

“What’s going on with you and Ashengrotto?” Idia asked curiously.

“He’s great. He’s like an honorary big brother. Although, I’m getting a little concerned.”

“How so?”

“I feel like he’s looking into hacking because I saw him reading about it and asking other around about how to do it.”

“He’s…looking into hacking?” That concerned Idia a lot, and it seemed to be worrying Ortho as well.

“He said something about it helping him with future contracts. Something about gacha pulls.”

     That’s when something clicked within Idia.

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

     Jamil looked up at the castle that was Diasomnia’s dorm. He took a deep breath and entered the dorm. As he walked through the halls, he kept on getting stares from the tenants. After all, not many others have the courage to venture into Diasomnia for any reason or no reason at all. He found into Sebek and approached him.

“Excuse me.”

“Hm? Oh, you’re Jamil Viper from Scarabia. Are you here to see Kalim?”

“Yes. I am rather concerned about the situation and wish to check on Kalim.”

“You and me both.” Sebek sighs. “The only thing Silver is concerned with is how this all happened. Well, anyway, follow me. I’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you.”

     It was a rather role reversal from the Entrance Ceremony, but Sebek wasn’t going to say anything. They traveled up many flights of stairs and to the tallest tower in the dorm. Sebek knocked on the door.

“Dorm Leader Kalim? It’s Sebek. There’s someone here to see you.”

“Come in!”

     Sebek opened the door, letting Jamil in first. There, Kalim sitting at the desk and was struggling to do his homework. He looked up to see who was here and smiled brightly. She got up and ran over to the duo, immediately hugging Jamil.

“JAMIL!”

“WHOA! Do not jump at me so suddenly!”

“I missed you so much!”

“But we see each other at school and in class all the time.”

“It’s not the same! I don’t get to see you outside of school! I’m so lonely here! Sebek and Silver are so distant and Lilia is hardly around with me like you always were.”

“I am loyal to the Young Master. I’m not gonna coddle you.” Sebek interrupted.

“I just want company…” Kalim pouted. Jamil sighs, knowing fully well that Kalim’s clinginess is due to him babying him this whole time. Once this is all over, he’ll have to change that. “So, Jamil, what are you doing here? I didn’t here a word that you were coming.”

“The vice dorm leaders decided to check on our former leaders to see how they were doing.”

“Oh yeah? OH! You should come to the feast tonight!”

“What?” Jamil blanked. Did Kalim just say there was going to be a feast?

“I’ve invited the others to come too! We’ve got a big spread coming tonight!”

“What’s happening here?” Jamil looked over at Sebek, wanting an explanation.

“Dorm leader Kalim has been throwing parties rather frequently. Actually, he threw a feast the day he became our new dorm leader. It was really…interesting. But he single handedly got everyone to party in roughly 1 hour.” That was rather shocking to Jamil.

“Wait, did you say others were coming?”

“Yeah! I invited the other dorms! Ruggie is really excited and so is Vil-senpai!”

‘Probably only to get out of the drylands…’ Jamil thought to himself.

“Plus, I think this is a good chance to let others into Diasomnia and let them know that we aren’t so bad. It’s just because of the categorization of them being powerful and good at magic that make them scary. Everyone is really nice. A little distant, but they’re really nice. I wanted the other dorms to know that too!”

     Jamil was rather impressed. Kalim was actually trying to close the distance between Diasomnia and the other dorms. Perhaps Kalim was smarter than he thought.

“Since you’re here, could you help me with my Alchemy homework?”

     Or maybe not.

[p-artsypants]

Integrity-Part 3

Ao3 | FF.net

In the morning, Adrien awoke feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

“Hey, take it easy.” Plagg said softly.

“What…?” Nausea washed over him, settling unpleasantly in his tummy. “My stomach…”

“Yeah. Just take your time sitting up.”

This didn’t make sense. He had taken two ibuprofen before bed. Was this the after effects of shock? Or was there something wrong with Madam Cheng’s soup?

“What’s going on?”

“You don’t remember?”

Rubbing his eyes to wake up more and shake off the dizziness, Adrien sat up in bed…no. On the couch.

His room was trashed. All the books and movies were pulled off the shelves, his bedding was bunched up in the corner, and there were feathers everywhere from his pillows. The clothes from his closet were all over the bed and strewn on the floor.

Glancing towards the bathroom, it appeared to have been raided as well.

“What…?”

“Your father came back in after you went to bed. I left Ladybug’s house around 5am and came here. You and your father were fighting…but you were really…you were acting weird. I couldn’t understand what you were saying. Some of it was Chinese, and some of it was just garbage. You swung your fists at him, but he just kept tearing your room apart. I think he was looking for the Miraculous.”

“Ugh. I guess that trust wasn’t very deep.” He rested his head in his hands, and then winced. His face hurt.

Slowly and staggering, he made his way to the bathroom, only to find that his left eye was bruised.

“I think he…he gave you something.” Plagg said sadly. He was holding onto his tail, something he only did when he was genuinely scared or sad.

“What? Like I was drugged?”

“I think so. If you don’t remember any of that.”

“I...I remember you leaving and then going to bed. But that’s it.”

“Yeah. I think your father drugged you.”

Adrien combed his disheveled hair, taming it into something less chaotic. Then he walked back to sit at the end of his bed, staring at the chaos of his room. He hoped his father wasn’t expecting him to clean all this up.

“I don’t know why I expected better from a man who had Lila stalking me.” His voice was calm, despite the raging storm inside his chest.

His father was dead, the man known as Gabriel Agreste was just a husk full of garbage. Desperate, illogical, garbage.

“I’m glad I’m leaving for a while.” He stood, and picked through the clothes that were scattered everywhere.

He didn’t really want to be a model today. Though he didn’t own many clothes that his father hadn’t designed, but picking an outfit that was ‘so last year’ would be a start.

A comfortable cashmere creme cardigan, over a thin, black v-neck, and stonewashed jeans.

Comfortable, and boring. Perfect.

Adrien collected his book bag, making sure his homework was still in one piece. The bag had been upturned, but his tablet was okay.

Finally, he turned his phone off and left it on his desk.

“You’re up early,” Plagg commented. “If you leave now, no one will be at the school.”

“Then I won’t go to the school. Bakeries are open early.”

Plagg smiled, and zipped into a pocket on his cardigan.

Downstairs, he was unsurprised to be escorted by Nathalie into the dining room.

His father was there, waiting to have breakfast with him. For the first time in what felt like forever.

“Good morning, son.” Gabriel spoke, plainly and without shame.

How dare he. How dare he try to act like everything was peaches and creme. How dare he just sit there!

Adrien clenched his bag strap. “Father.”

“Oh come now, don’t be like that. Come and sit, there’s breakfast.”

Adrien glared at him. “So I’m just supposed to ignore my black eye?”

“No, of course not. We’ll put some cover up on it.”

Adrien shook his head. “I told you I trusted you. You said you trusted me. Apparently, you lied.”

“Adrien...”

Adrien took out his wallet, and took out the note he had written last night. He placed it on the table next to his father.

“I’m not hungry.” He stated, before leaving the room.

Even when his father called after him, Adrien kept moving. He couldn’t stop. Not until he was free!

The mansion doors slammed shut behind him, and he sprinted to the gate.

There was no stopping him now.

—

Marinette woke up at her first alarm. Not rested. Not really possible when you’re awakened in the middle of the night with the biggest news of them all.

“Good morning, Marinette.” Tikki spoke softly, as one would talk to someone with a hangover.

“Morning. You guys have a fun time last night?”

“Hmm...sort of. It was fun to have everyone together. But we spent a long time just talking with Nooroo. It was…emotional.”

“Oh. Gabriel didn’t treat him well?”

“Nooroo was only allowed to call him ‘Master’.”

Marinette scoffed in disgust. “When things are a little more under control, I’ll take him out and talk with him. As of right now, Chat and I are the only ones that know Hawkmoth is gone. I don’t even know how we announce it.”

“You should probably talk to Chat first. The man is still around. Or maybe not! He should probably go to jail.”

“If he hasn’t already left Paris.” Marinette stated as she rose from bed.

Oh.

But what about Adrien?

How was she supposed to explain this to him? ‘Hi, love of my life, your father is a terrorist, and I have to put him in jail! Hope this won’t put a damper on our relationship!’

Damn it all to hell. Adrien would never speak to her again. This would completely ruin him. Because how do you deal with something like that? The only parent you have left, put in jail by the girl you thought you loved. There was just no coming back from it.

Marinette rested her head in her hands. “What do I do, Tikki?”

“Talk. To. Chat.” Tikki pressed. “Don’t do anything until then! You don’t know the whole story!”

“Yeah…” She sighed. “Man, I thought defeating Hawkmoth meant less stress, not more.”

“Just different stress.” Tikki tutted, bringing her her hairbrush.

“Thanks.” She took out her hair ties and brushed her hair. “Ugh, and now I have to go to school and face everyone after that blow up I had yesterday. I can’t.”

“You have Nino and Adrien though!”

“I can’t bare to look at Adrien. I think…I might cry if I do.”

Tikki rubbed against her cheek. “I don’t think Adrien would hold it against you. His father brought this upon himself. And he will know that.”

“I just…I don’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Let’s just worry about getting through the school day first.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right.”

Today called for a creme colored cardigan, over her favorite black t-shirt (the one that was a little worn and stretchy), and a pair of distressed jeans. She opted for a bun as well, wanting to distance herself from Ladybug for the day.    

“You know...” thought Tikki, as Marinette gathered her school supplies. “Now that Hawkmoth is gone, you really could tell your parents. It might clear up some lingering distrust, and they could be on alert for the Miracle Box when you aren’t home.”

Marinette considered it, shouldering her bag. “It would clear things up...”

“It’s your choice of course. Just something to consider.”

“Yeah. I think that’s a good idea! I’ll tell them at dinner! And they can be the first civilians to know that Hawkmoth is gone!”

Newly motivated, Marinette skipped down the steps to breakfast.

However, it wasn’t just her mother in the kitchen.

“Hey Marinette,” Adrien said shyly. He glanced her over. “I guess one of us will have to change.”

It didn’t even compute with her that he was talking about her outfit.

His eye. He had a black eye. And besides that, he looked like a crumpled mess.

“Adrien? What—what happened?”

“Uh...little disagreement with my father. Your mom said I could stay with you guys, but I wanted to make sure you were cool with it.”

“Me? Sure! Of course!”

“Good, because there’s no one I’d rather trust.” He furrowed his brows a little more. “I have to be able to trust someone.”

God. Like a punch in the gut. Sure, he trusted her now, when he knew she was Ladybug. But once he found out his father was Hawkmoth, and she put him in jail? Game over. Trust broken. Heart broken.

She sat across from him, and held his hand. “You can trust me, Adrien. I only have your best interests at heart.”

He smiled at her. The doom and gloom seemed to flit away as adoration took its place.

‘Talk to Chat first’ Tikki’s voice reminded her in her mind. ‘You don’t know the whole story.’

Oh god! What if the disagreement was over the Miraculous? What if Adrien suffered because of Chat?

This was unfair.

Damn Gabriel.

“Omelets!” Sabine sang, placing plates in front of them. “And for you dear.” She gave Adrien a cold pack for his face.

“Thank you Madam Cheng.”

“Of course sweetie. If you need anything else, just let me know. And you can call me Sabine, or whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“Thank you, Sabine.” He smiled briefly.

“If you’re staying with us, do you need someone to get some clothes and stuff?” Asked Marinette.

“No, I snuck a bag out last night. It’s at school.”

“How did you manage that?”

Adrien bit his lip. “I got some help from Chat Noir.”

Her eyes widened, and she spoke quietly. “So...do you...you know, know?”

“Yeah. I promise I’ll tell you everything later, but...” he glanced over at her mom. “We have other things to deal with.”

Marinette understood what he was getting at, and decided to shelf the conversation. At least until she talked to Chat. Once she had all sides of the story, she could come up with a solution that benefited everyone. “I’m not really looking forward to school. Especially with what happened yesterday.”

He chuckled. “Oh my god, that was just yesterday. I had a long night.”

“I bet.”

“I didn’t mean to change the subject. I’m safe now, so let’s worry about you.”

“It’s okay, Adrien, really. We’ve got each other’s backs, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Marinette glanced at her phone. “Still haven’t heard from Alya. I don’t know if Nino didn’t get through, or if she’s waiting to talk to me in person.”

“Well, I know it sucks, but maybe just let her go?”

She shrugged. “I mean, maybe. Her manipulation tactic yesterday hurt really bad. But she’s the one that’s fueling Lila. Since she wants to be a reporter so bad, I want her to consider that she may get bad leads.”

“Wait, manipulation tactic? What did she say? There was a lot happening yesterday and I don’t know if I caught everything.”

“She said something like, ‘the way you are acting is really hurting me’ when I was the one that was really upset. Granted, Lila was the one that gave her that idea.”

“Why is that manipulative?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“She was trying to make me feel guilty because I was angry. I was upsetting her because I was upset. You see?”

It was like a lightbulb went on in Adrien’s head, as his eyes widened, before his head dropped on the table. “So many people have used that on me, and I’ve fallen for it every time.”

“Oh Adrien...”

“Thank you,” he said, sitting up. “I guess there’s still a lot for me to learn about social cues.”

“It’s okay! I can help you.”

“Hate to interrupt,” said Sabine, “but if you kids want to take advantage of being up early, you better leave now!”

“Thanks Maman! See you at lunch.”

“Have a good day, you two!”

As they passed Tom in the bakery, he gave Marinette a kiss on the cheek, and rubbed Adrien’s head.

Then they leisurely made their way to school.

“Can I hold your hand?” Asked Adrien.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Have you asked me out?” She blinked. “Wait, that’s not what the argument was about, right? With your father?”

“No, no Marinette, he actually thinks you’re fine. We had a good talk before everything went down...but still, I got some other loose ends. Not yet, but soon. But, close friends who will soon be dating can hold hands, right?”

“Especially if they’re both having a rough time.”

“Yes, especially then.” He took her hand, and intertwined their fingers.

Marinette gave a happy hum and had an extra bounce in her step.

“You got happy all of a sudden,” Adrien commented.

“I’m holding Adrien’s hand! If you would have told last week Marinette about this, she wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Last week Marinette is missing out.” He grinned.

She squeezed his hand.

At school, they had just cleared the door before they heard Lila’s pathetic wailing.

“Now what?” They said in tandem.

Walking closer, they got let in on the story.

“—told me if I ever told anyone, I’d be fired! But I just couldn’t take it anymore! Not after what Marinette did to me yesterday! I told Gabriel exactly what Adrien did! And he didn’t believe me! He called me a liar and fired me!”

Marinette and Adrien shared a look.

“I knew this was going to happen.” He lamented.

“And then Marinette’s mother called mine and told her I deserved to be bullied! That I deserved to be molested!”

Looking around the group assembled, some had looks of horror, while others held looks of disbelief.

“Sabine said that?” Asked Alix, one of the doubters. “I...I can’t even imagine that.”

“It’s true! My mom talked to her and everything! We’re getting a lawyer.”

And then, Lila noticed Adrien and Marinette standing in the back of the crowd, listening.

And of course, Adrien never covered up his bruise.

“Look! Just look at him! That’s where I punched him after he groped me!”

All heads swiveled to look at Adrien, followed by a round of gasps.

“Dude...” Nino stared at him. “What happened to you?”

“I already told you, Nino!” Lila bawled. “He touched me! He’s a sex offender! Please, you have to believe me!”

Nino have a long sigh. “Dude. We were just talking yesterday about how he and Kagami were together. I really don’t want to be a victim denier, but this whole story seems really fishy.” He turned back to Adrien. “What really happened?”

Not deterred by Lila’s story, Adrien covered his face. “I had...a little disagreement with my father.”

“Oh yeah? What about?” Asked Kim.

Adrien winced. “It’s not really anyone’s business. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“A likely story!” Said Sabrina. “But Chloe said you’re a bad liar!”

Ivan cracked his knuckles. “If you touched her, you’ll be dealing with more than a black eye when I’m done with you.”

Marinette rested a hand on Ivan’s fist. “Adrien didn’t touch Lila. She’s been the one touching him. Adrien finally told his dad last night, and that’s why she was fired. I was there when he called his dad.”

Adrien appreciated Marinette stepping in. He was having a hard time staying calm.

But no reason to worry about becoming an Akuma!

“Funny how you claimed she was threatening you, when you were the one threatening her. Now you’re the one claiming she’s sexually harassing him? That’s so stupid, guys can’t be sexually harassed!” Kim spouted this nugget of wisdom, and Adrien trembled.

“How would you like it, if every goddamn day of your life you had to let some girl hang off of you, no matter how mean or cruel, no matter how uncomfortable. And you just had to smile about it?” Adrien grit out, with thinly veiled rage.

“I’d count myself lucky. As a male model, you get to be surrounded by hot chicks all the time! How is that a bad thing?”

“Because I don’t want them!” Adrien shouted. “I don’t want Lila, or Kagami, or Chloe! I don’t want Eva, or Annette, or Marlina! I just want—“

My Lady.

He screwed up his face, swallowing back his pain. He didn’t want to talk about last night. He didn’t want to tell his classmates. He only wanted to tell those he trusted. And that was a very small pool right now.

“My black eye is none of your business. I don’t want to talk about it. But it has nothing to do with Lila. Yes, I told my father I was being sexually harassed by her, and I asked if I could not model with her anymore. Given that she lied to get Marinette expelled, I had a feeling she would lie about me too. He made the decision to let her go.”

“I didn’t lie to get Marinette expelled!” Lila protested.

“But you admitted to having a lying disease! And you took back all those claims to get me back in school! Why should anyone believe you right now? How are you all not considering if this is a ‘side effect’ of her ‘disease’?!” Marinette protested.

For the first time since their arrival, Alya finally spoke up. “The coffee was cold yesterday.”

Everyone looked at her, somewhat put off by the seemingly random subject change.

“The coffee that Marinette spilled on Lila that gave her third degree burns. Marinette poured the rest of it on my hand. It was cold.”

Lila sat in silence.

“Well,” Alix spoke. “I don’t know who to believe anymore. And frankly, it’s none of my business, like Adrien said. I’m done with drama.”

“Yeah, me too.” Said Rose, sadly. “I just want us all to get along.”

“Like we did before Lila?” Nino asked.

“Nino!” Lila gaped at him. “It’s not my fault Marinette got jealous! That’s unfair!”

“Sure dude.” He shrugged.

Then, blessedly, the bell rang.

Marinette, Adrien, Nino, and Alya lingered behind as the rest of the class wandered to class.

“So,” Alya began, “If I can be totally honest, I’m torn. I do think Lila has...something wrong with her. Whether she has some illness that makes her lie, or she’s a narcissist? I don’t know. I don’t know if I believe she’s doing this on purpose either. She’s been so nice and so sweet. She’s babysat when you had to bail last minute. I feel like I’m between a rock and a hard place. I don’t want to pick sides.”

Marinette nodded. “I understand. It is difficult when you’re in between friends. Do you trust me, Alya?”

Alya screwed up her lips in a frown, considering the thought. Then she looked over to the boys.

Marinette touched her shoulder and directed her gaze back over. “Don’t look at them. Look inside yourself. Just be honest with me. You know I won’t get mad. Do you trust me?”

Alya glanced down to her shoes. “I want to, but...”

Marinette just watched her carefully.

“You bail a lot. You disappear, you give really flimsy excuses. You forget about things. Most of the class hasn’t picked up on it, but I know you lie to me sometimes. You’re allowed to have your secrets, and I know you aren’t trying to hurt me...I just...” she clenched her fists. “I don’t know.”

Alya was observant and a reporter at heart. Of course she’d pick up on this.

“Alya, you’re my best friend. I do have secrets, and one day, I’d love to tell you. But right now, it’s safer for you not to know.”

That didn’t really instill Alya with faith. “I guess that’s fair.”

“I don’t want your blind trust, Alya. All I want is for you to do your own critical thinking, and check your sources.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “So everything Lila says is a lie?”

“I didn’t say that. But if several things she says are untrue, maybe you should double check her claims. You know that the coffee yesterday was cold. And you know my mother would never tell someone they deserved to be bullied. She did call Lila’s mom yesterday. I don’t know what she said, but I know it came from a place of concern.”

“It comes down to integrity, Alya.” Said Adrien. “Sometimes people fail and lie, but their character should still speak for them. Do I seem like the kind of person that would grope a girl?”

Alya actually chuckled at that. “You are probably the least likely. You’re a literal ball of sunshine.”

“My mother taught me to be a gentleman at all times. Especially when I’m famous and working with women. If I was creepy and skeevy, no one would doubt if a woman made a claim against me. And by being kind and a gentlemen, it’s least likely that someone would lie like that to take advantage of me in the first place. Fake rape and molestation charges are something males in our industry face a lot. They ruin our reputation, and make it harder for real cases to get justice. It sucks.”

“So, you never touched Lila?”

“I only touched what I was instructed to during shoots, like her arm or her waist. Never any more than that. I have zero attraction to her. But like I said, she had touched me...not anything that would be considered molesting, but she grabbed my arm and rubbed my chest. She grabbed my butt once. I told my dad I didn’t like it, and I feared that she’d pull this exact scenario if I crossed her. After all, she lied to get Marinette expelled. The only reason she double lied to get her back in school was because I let her model with me in exchange.”

Alya frowned harder. “Lila’s behavior yesterday gave me some red flags. How she had outed Marinette’s crush like that...that was cruel. I don’t care what kind of beef you have with someone, that’s against the girl code. I just...need some time.”

Nino wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s go to class. Later, let’s take a look at some of her stories you put on the blog. We’ll make a threshold of deniability. If she’s exaggerating, we can let things go, but if there are straight lies, we have to consider if a friendship with her is worth it.”

Alya nodded, rubbing her eye. “Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.” She managed a smile for both Adrien and Marinette. “Is there a reason you’re matching today?”

They hadn’t even noticed.

“Comfort clothes.” They both said, then chuckled.

Miss Bustier came out of the teachers lounge. “What are kids doing out here still? If you can beat me to the classroom, I won’t mark you tardy!”

The four sprinted up to the classroom.

@redheadeddemon16 @sturchling @fleur-de-jasmin-fdj

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Trust

Your dad, Sebastian, tries to tell you not to go to a party, but you don’t listen, and you end up calling him for help. 

-

           “For the last time, you’re not going to that party,” your dad said as he put groceries in cabinets. “I don’t trust that kid, and I don’t want you near him.”

           “He’s not bad, Dad, I swear! I wouldn’t even ask to go if I didn’t think it would be fine.” You were standing in the kitchen, arguing over whether you could go to some kid’s party. It wasn’t like it was going to be insane. It was just kids from school, and honestly kids from your school were pretty lame.

           “You’re not going, Y/n, and I’m not arguing about it. Go do homework or something, okay?” You sighed, trying to pretend like you weren’t going to find a way to go anyway. Knowing him, he would probably run out for something he forgot at the grocery store just now, you’d act like you were going to bed, and then you’d use the handy dandy fire escape and the MetroCard you kept for the very few times you didn’t want your dad to be able to know where you were going.

           “Fine,” you said, walking up the stairs until you got to your room. You opened your textbook, but went to your closet and picked out clothes. Sure enough, about two hours later, your dad popped into your room.

           “I need to go back out to the store, I’ll be back in an hour.”

           “I’ll probably be asleep by then,” you lied. You were definitely not going to be asleep.

           “Okay. That’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.” He nodded and left your door wide open. You pretended to go across the hall to the bathroom and waited until the front door shut, and then you sprung into action mode. You pulled on the clothes you’d picked out, put on some makeup, and texted your friend that you would meet her at her subway stop.

           “Are you sure you won’t get caught?” She asked as you met her down at her stop. You were dressed in probably the sluttiest outfit you had, which wasn’t very slutty, because your dad was overprotective as hell.

           “He’s at the store and I told him I was gong to bed, so probably not. Unless someone roofies me, and then we’ll have a problem.” Oh, how stupid you were, you would think later. You got on with your friend and rode down to the correct stop, hopping off and heading into the guy’s apartment. His parents were rich, more than one trust fund rich, and the parties he threw were legendary. You and your friend had gotten invited, so of course you had to go, even though your dad told you no.

           He wasn’t overprotective just for the sake of being overprotective – he knew how he was as a teenager with access to New York, and he didn’t want you to get into any trouble. He never grounded you for doing anything wrong because it wouldn’t work, and he never said no to something without telling you why first. He tried the best he could, and he was great at it. Tonight was one of the very few nights when you tried to hide something from him. And you felt bad about it, but you wanted to go, and you did.

           “Hey, Y/n!” The guy in question, Jason, opened the door to his family’s penthouse apartment. It was what most people dreamed of – spacious enough for crazy high school parties. He’d set up a table of drinks in the corner, and while you hadn’t planned on getting blackout drunk, they had your favorite.

           “Come on!” You said to your friend, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to where the drinks were. You both poured your own drinks. You were sixteen, not brainless, and started wandering around. About half of your grade was there, maybe more, and it was the first time you’d seen most of them not in school uniform. You drank one drink and got another, this time from a bartender standing there. It was the same drink, but it tasted… different. Kind of off. You found your friend again and continued your conversation.

           You started to feel… well, drunk. And you shouldn’t have been, you knew your tolerance. You looked back at the bartender. Why wasn’t your vision clear anymore? You rubbed at your contacts, and they were still in. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you sat down, bringing your friend with you.

           “Y/n?” Your dad called through the old brownstone you lived in. “Y/n!” He realized you said you were going to bed and walked up the stairs to your room. He could see your door cracked open. It was freezing in there, but he looked at the thermostat and it was set to 68, like always.

           “Y/n?” He asked, standing at your doorway. He flipped on the light. Your bed was made, still, your school uniform on the floor, and your closet door was open. His heart dropped when he realized you were gone. He scrambled to take his phone out of his pocket and called you, but you didn’t answer. So then he looked at your location. You were halfway across Manhattan, and you weren’t answering your phone. Oh, that was just great. He raced back out the door, got in his car, and drove.

           “Ugh, I feel like shit,” you slurred. You noticed you had one missed call and swiped to call back, not even reading the name. They answered right away.

           “Y/n? Where are you?” It was your Dad.

           “A party,” you groaned in response. “I’m sorry I snuck out. But I think... I think I just got roofied.”

           “WHAT?” He asked loudly. “I’m coming to get you. Are you with anybody?”

           “Yeah, I was with a friend but I don’t know where she is. I really don’t feel good.” Sebastian looked down at his phone, sighing. He was five minutes away if this traffic light would just turn – it finally turned green and he sped off, making sure there were no police officers in sight.

           “Of course not, if you were roofied... Can you get downstairs?” He could see the building. If only this dumb semi truck would just move away from the curb, he could park there.

           “Yeah, there’s an elevator.”

           “Okay, I’ll meet you in the lobby,” he sighed. “I love you.” You didn’t respond back. Your phone slipped from your hand, but when you grabbed it you hit the end call button. You pulled yourself up and looked around until you found the elevator. You couldn’t tell if you pushed the up or down button, and your head was spinning and you couldn’t tell where the door was because the elevator was mirrored. Everything was so bright. Your head was throbbing as you walked out of the elevator. You saw a familiar face, finally, your dad.

           “Jesus, come on,” he said as he closed the gap between you.

           “I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. As soon as you sat down in the car, you were out cold. The last thing he wanted to do was take you to the hospital, but he had to. He didn’t know what you had taken, how much of it, or if it was just a random drug. He shook you awake again when he pulled in, helping you out after he found a parking spot.

           “Where are we?” You asked him. You could barely tell it was him; your vision was still blurry, you felt like you were being pulled in a million different directions.

           “ER. Go sit down, I’ll be there in a second.” You did what he told you to do, flopping down in the first seat you could make out the shape of. He joined you in a minute, typing on a tablet that someone gave him.

           “I’m sorry,” you said again. He turned to you and kissed the side of your head.

           “I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because it’s not, but I’m glad you called me. I don’t know why they’d do that to you, but I’m glad I found you. We just need to make sure you’re okay.” You nodded as much as you could.

           You waited for two hours, and by the time they were able to do a test you’d come down completely. You had a small dose of a pill, but it wasn’t a dose enough to truly hurt you. Someone had just wanted to incapacitate you for whatever reason. You would be fine, they said. Your dad walked you back out and into the car. He didn’t say anything, and that scared you. He never outright yelled at you; that wasn’t his style. But he did freeze you out. And you couldn’t help but feel like you’d really, really messed up. The drive back to the apartment was a long one, and the entire time he didn’t look at you.

           “Dad?” You asked when he pulled into the garage.

           “We need to talk,” he said simply. He let you go ahead of him, and you went straight up to the living room. You were still walking slowly. You were coming down from whatever you’d had and you were exhausted.

           “I just want to go to bed. Can we please talk tomorrow?”

           “Nope. Sit.” He wasn’t aggressive with you. Just short. “I’m not gonna yell at you, if that’s what you think.”

           “You’re not?”

           “No.” He sat down beside you, putting an arm behind your shoulder. “I hate that you snuck out. I hate that I can’t trust you right now, either, because you’ve never given me a reason not to. But you really screwed up, kid.”

           “I know.” You looked down, aware that your balance still wasn’t back. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

           “I know you are. I’m not gonna torture you anymore. You can go.”

           “Am I grounded?” He chuckled.

           “Honey, you are beyond grounded. We’ll discuss the terms of punishment tomorrow. Just get some sleep, okay?” You turned away from him, and then turned back.

           “Thank you. You didn’t have to pick me up. And I learned my lesson. Just so you know.”

           “I’m just glad you’re safe. For a few minutes there, I thought… I don’t know what I thought. But I was worried. I love you. And the last thing I want to do is ground you and keep you from going places and make your life worse. But I need you to trust me like I still trust you. Okay?” You nodded and turned away from him, finally putting the night to an end.

A/N: I’m sorry this is so short! I hope you like it still!

[stovetuna]

Imagine Steve/Avengers walking in to Tony entertaining two soldiers in the common room and being really confused because Tony??? Despises the military??? But then find out that those two soldiers are actually from the “fun-vee” way back in IM 1 and Tony’s fitting them with prosthetics.

ahhh this has been stuck in my head for DAYS anon! I don’t necessarily agree with the assessment that Tony hates the military, per se (doing business with the military and the military industrial complex, however, and all that that toxic shit entails, definitely yes), BUT it’s such a heartbreaking/warming concept I had to run with it! I think I got it right with Air Force vs Army, but the movie was kinda vague—I’m going off of the fact that the driver said “I’m an airman,” which you would not say if you were in the Army.

and since the airmen (and woman) Tony was traveling with in the Fun-Vee are canonically deceased, I thought I’d have Tony do something…well, Extremely Tony™ to compensate…

(::whispers:: also we’re just gonna pretend that the Bucky-killed-Tony’s-parents-revelations of Cap 2/3 aren’t a thing in this vaguely alternate MCU universe. la-di-da, la-di-da…)

***

It’s not surprising to walk into the Avengers common area and see Tony Stark working on something no one can quite comprehend. That’s par for the course, really, as commonplace as days that end in Y. Machines, phones, tablets, watches, the toaster after Hulk pressed the cancel button a little too hard—they’ve seen Tony futzing with just about everything that exists in the Tower (and some things that don’t—couldn’t—exist anywhere else except where Tony is). 

What the team isn’t expecting when the elevator doors open onto the communal floor that sunny Tuesday afternoon is a living room scattered with men and women in various states of modest undress, all of whom immediately pivot in place to take stock of the new arrivals. Three men, one woman, and in the middle of their protective circle is Tony, eyes blazing with the same thrill of invention he often gets in the lab, a pair of needle-nose pliers clenched in his teeth.

Steve in particular notices the way Tony looks, because he’s developed a bad habit of doing that over the past year and change, and he’s kind of helpless at this point. Tony’s backlit by the afternoon sun, preoccupied with whatever he’s doing with the strange woman’s arm to distraction, and Steve can’t be judged too harshly—anyone with eyes would drag theirs over the exposed muscles of Tony’s arms, the shift and flex of his shoulders, the firm taper of his waist, the pronounced curve of his a—

“Are we, uh, interrupting something?” Clint has to shout to be heard above the music blasting from all corners of the room. 

Tony looks up from his work and waves his free hand, the one that isn’t wrist-deep in what looks remarkably like a prosthetic arm. He makes a ‘cut it off’ motion to his neck before taking the pliers out of his mouth while FRIDAY lowers the rock music to a dull background hum. 

“Hey! Sorry, I tried to keep it to the lab, but these guys wanted to see where the Avengers hang out, and I couldn’t say no.” 

Steve tears his eyes away from Tony (who should really work the sweaty-and-disheveled-mechanic look more often) to take in the others in the room with him. It’s a panorama of people, and the first thing Steve notices, besides their more obvious differences, is how comfortable they all are with each other, to the point that walking in on this moment feels invasive, almost rude. 

The four are all of remarkably different builds and backgrounds, not a similarity between them: an African American man, no taller than Steve was before the serum, sits on the couch; a white man, thin as a rake and twice as tall, is reaching for a glass of water on the coffee table; an Asian American man, whose shoulders are somehow even broader than Steve’s, stands rigidly next to Tony, arms folded across his chest; and the lone woman, whose glossy black hair is wound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Steve notes the beautifully elaborate Native American tattoo covering the expanse of her shoulders and upper back. 

Then Steve notices the high-and-tights, the form-fitting, drab beige shirts they’re all wearing, the combat boots lined up behind the loveseat, and he realizes, much like he did with Sam that morning in DC, oh—these are my people.

“Ah, well, welcome to the octagon!” Clint says with an easy smile, stepping forward to shake hands and say hello like a normal human being. Natasha gives Steve one of her looks before she and Sam follow him into the living room—I don’t know any more than you do.

Bruce, Wanda, and Vision stay behind with Steve to let the first wave through. Steve watches his teammates greet the airmen without fanfare, welcoming strangers into their private midst like it’s routine. 

“Didn’t know y’all would be around, else we would’ve stayed outta sight.” 

Sam laughs, clapping the sitting man on the shoulder. “Dude, if Tony told us you were here, I would have come downstairs and bugged you, myself.” 

“Sure, PJ—you just wanted to see what real Air Force muscle looks like,” the man grins, flexing his barrel chest hard enough to strain his shirt. Sam guffaws and gives him a friendly punch to the shoulder, which the man returns in kind with a fist to the kidney. 

Clint is already deep in conversation with the redheaded beanpole, who talks so fast it’s dizzying; Natasha is standing next to the third man, keeping her eyes forward, and together they watch Tony disappear back into his work, muttering things back and forth to each other, so quiet even Steve can’t hear. 

“I think all is clear,” Vision says smoothly, drifting forward with Wanda, who is visibly fascinated by the woman’s tattoo until she steps into the throng and sees something that makes her face fall. 

Steve moves forward, curious and worried in equal measure. Bruce is hot on his heels. 

“—I mean it’s crazy right? It’s crazy, Tony Stark, Tony Stark calls us up out of the blue one day and says ‘You’ll be waiting six months to a year for a decent repair job, let alone a complete replacement, and I owe you guys, come on by Avengers Tower—”

Redhead is gabbing excitedly, gesticulating like Tony does when he’s in the mad depths of an invention binge. Steve sees the glint of metal and hears the whir of mechanisms working smoothly together in tandem and realizes both of the man’s hands are prosthetic. 

“Oh man! Oh, man! Captain, sir, wow, it’s—fuck, shit, my mama would kill me for swearing in front of you, fucking—shit, sorry, fuck—ah, damn it!”

Steve smiles and introduces himself—Corporal Bill Levee, apparently, is just as talkative up close. For all that his hand is made of metal, his grip feels remarkably, tangibly real. 

While Bill goes back to talking compound bows with Hawkeye, Steve looks at the man on the couch. Sam and Vision are now sitting on either side of him: both of his legs end at mid-thigh, and in their place are what look like brand-new metal limbs, designed to match his proportions exactly. The metal is dark, shiny, beautiful. He looks thrilled. He looks even more excited when Steve approaches, leaps to his feet and doesn’t even balk at the fact that Steve is a head and change taller than him and a superhero—he just steps right up to Steve and jabs him once in the shoulder with a grin. 

“Captain Rogers,” he says, and sticks out his hand. Steve shakes it. The man points a thumb at himself: “Captain Freddy Harrison. A little after your time, sir, but an honor to meet you regardless.”

Bill is still talking a mile a minute behind him; Freddy sits back down on the couch and lets Steve continue his “Captain America Meet-and-Greet” but makes him promise to come back and swap stories, which Steve does, happily, even as his mind whirls. How does Tony know these people? Why are they here? Where did these prosthetics come from? 

Bruce has joined Natasha, standing apart from the rest to talk to her and her new friend. Steve stops to say hello, as is only right, waiting until he’s entered the man’s line of sight to do so. Only then does he realize that the man has no line of sight, because both of his eyes are prosthetic. 

“I’m not completely blind, Captain,” he says, voice low but good-humored. Next to him, Natasha smothers a smile behind her hand. 

“Steve, this is Sergeant Daniel Kwon,” Bruce offers. The sergeant smirks and extends a hand—the eyes in his sockets look incredibly lifelike, but don’t move even a fraction of a millimeter. They gleam, still, with an uncanny sense of knowing. Steve has a sneaking suspicion they see more than enough and match his original eyes perfectly. 

“I’ll still make an exception in your case, Sergeant Kwon,” Steve replies, shaking his hand, “for not saluting a ranking officer.”

Dan chuckles under his breath.

“Let’s see your battlefield commission and then we’ll talk rank, sir,” he says. 

“Ugh, men.”

Steve turns around, and there’s Tony, flipping shut a panel high on the woman’s left arm with a smile. He pockets the pliers and drags the back of his forearm across his glistening forehead. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind, a saxophone is blaring. 

Honestly, the intrusive thoughts he could deal with, but the fact that Tony looks this good after hours of hard labor really isn’t fair. 

“Seriously, barely two minutes in and you military guys are at it like frat bros at a kegger.” Tony looks sidelong at the woman, who rolls her shoulders with a pop and a groan. “How do you manage?” 

“Easy,” she says, “I let them drink until they pass out and then I run back to the women’s barracks with all their clothes so they have to walk across the TOC butt-naked.”  

“I think we need to compare our respective strategies,” Natasha says, taking Wanda’s arm on her way to greet the other woman. “This is Wanda; I’m Natasha.”

The woman turns to face them. Her features are striking in a way that makes Steve think of old friends from the war, men he met on those rare occasions he had leave. He’d listen to Native American Code Talkers tell stories of land and legacy and home, stories older than anything Steve had ever known. He’d never been so humbled. 

“Delores,” she replies, shaking their hands. “But please, call me Del, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Steve looks at Tony, who giggles—giggles—and mouths ‘Umbridge.’ Del must have ears like a bat, because she smacks him smartly with her prosthetic arm and Tony yelps before devolving into outright laughter. Steve could watch and listen to Tony laugh—that big, gut-wrenching cackle Tony thinks is unattractive but Steve thinks makes Tony look like happiness personified—all day. 

The conversation devolves quickly from there, and within a couple of excitable minutes, the airmen are eager to get a look at the Avengers’ game room. They pile into the elevator, talking animatedly over each others’ heads, placing bets and picking teams as the doors close. 

In their wake, Steve’s ears are buzzing, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s now alone. With Tony. 

It happens often enough that the fact itself isn’t jarring, but something about being alone with disheveled-frazzled-happy-sweaty Tony sets Steve’s nerves on high alert. Tony is loose-limbed and relaxed, moving in and out of Steve’s space as he picks his way around the living room barefoot, looking for discarded tools. 

“There you are,” he coos at a tiny device that looks remarkably like a laser pointer. Knowing Tony, it’s probably a real laser. He pockets it, assumably to put away later (or fish out of the laundry at the last minute). 

“Who are those people, Tony?” 

“Friends of friends,” Tony replies. Steve also knows Tony well enough to recognize his I am being deliberately vague voice when he hears it. 

“Uh-huh.” Steve sits on the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. “And who are they really?” 

“Who wants to know?”

“Me,” Steve says gently, scratching his palms with dulled fingernails. “They’re strangers, and they’re in our home. I think if you were in my shoes you’d want to know.” 

Tony stoops to pick up and pocket what looks like a dissected nine-volt battery. Steve kind of wants to ask, but he’s too distracted by Tony’s ass in those black Levis to ask any cogent questions. Seriously, he wonders, are those painted on?

Only when Tony sighs, and quite heavily, that Steve realizes this was more than just a friendly house call (of sorts) on Tony’s part. He watches Tony stand up, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows bright with the glow of sunset, and admires the way Tony suits the view so perfectly. He looks good all the time, but like this—skin burnished gold, brown eyes honeyed by the light—he’s something else. Someone Steve wants, desperately, but like most things in his life, knows he’s not allowed to have. Tony Stark is beyond him in so many ways. Reaching for him seems futile, so Steve stays on the ground, and looks. 

Tony fidgets nervously with a mini Phillips Head screwdriver, twiddling it in his long, clever fingers as he stares out the windows at the city sprawled out beneath them. 

“They’re from the same company as the guys in the convoy I was with when I—when they—” his voice sputters out before he can say the words. Steve doesn’t push. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits for Tony to gather himself. It’s one of the hardest lessons he’s had to learn about Tony Stark—sometimes it’s better to let him get a handle on himself, rather than jump in and try to handle Tony for him. It doesn’t change the fact that Steve wants nothing more than to hold his hand, now that it’s hanging at his side like its string was just cut. “A while back I dug into Air Force records, talked to Rhodey, got some names. Five people died in the hit that was meant for me. I figured, the least I could do was find five of their closest buddies who needed help.” 

Tony glances back at Steve—the little smile on his lips could break Steve’s heart if he let it.

“And I’ve heard you talk about how convoluted the VA is when it comes to services and benefits and whatnot. I figured, my tech probably took their limbs, I should cut out the middle man and give them new ones, myself.” 

Something in Steve’s heart shifts irrevocably before kicking into a whole new gear. By the end of the sentence, Steve knows he’s going to do something incredibly rash, the only question is when. 

Funny—ten minutes ago he was coming back from a team exercise, prepared to give Tony a friendly but firm talking-to about missing it, and instead here he is, breathless, heart racing, sitting and listening to Tony talk humbly about fixing people because he knows it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s the least he can do. And isn’t that the wildest understatement Steve’s ever heard? 

As if anything about Tony Stark could ever possibly be least. 

“You built them all those prosthetics?” 

“Top of the line!” Tony smirks, saluting Steve with his Phillips Head. “Nothing more high tech in any of them than a heart rate monitor and some other odds and ends—no rocket launcher eyes, don’t worry. I kept my baser urges in check with these.” 

“It’s good,” Steve blurts out, too loud and too fast. Tony inhales sharply, fingers clenching around the screwdriver hard enough his knuckles go white. Steve feels his face go hot and groans. “I mean, what you did—what you’re doing—is good, Tony. It’s really generous of you to do that for those guys.” 

Steve crosses his arms across his chest to make himself feel safer, more contained. If he doesn’t, who knows where these ridiculous feelings might go. He feels silly enough as it is, blushing and stammering while dressed in his uniform, sans helmet. Even Tony’s probably wondering why he’s wasting his time talking to a red-white-and-blue fossil when he could be downstairs destroying Clint and the others at pool or showing the airmen around the tower, giving them the bells-and-whistles tour. 

Tony looks at the floor, away from Steve. Steve feels it like a physical thing, Tony pulling away, retreating, wanting to hide. Amazing, how a man who almost literally wears his heart on his sleeve still thinks he doesn’t have one. 

“Yeah, well,” Tony mutters, “it’s good practice, anyways.” 

Steve’s thoughts grind to a halt. 

“Practice for what?” 

Tony starts moving around, shuffling back and forth across the living room floor, looking for something that probably isn’t there. Steve knows when Tony is avoiding eye contact with him—it happens often enough. 

“Just a pet project, nothing major. Hey, have you seen my cable knife anywhere?” 

“Did you leave it on the floor? Tony…”

“I know, I know, the only thing worse is Legos, but I was busy! You can’t blame me for—OW FUCK!” 

Like a shot, Steve is up and holding on to Tony so he doesn’t hop backwards into the glass coffee table. One arm wrapped around his back and the other hand on his bicep, Steve steadies Tony as Tony searches underfoot for whatever hurt him. 

He comes up with a magnet the size of a dime. 

“Ha,” Tony wheezes. “Speaking of Legos.” He drops it into his pocket along with the laser pointer and whatever else is in there and hangs his head. Rubbing his brow, Tony says: “God. I could sleep for a week after today.” 

Steve keeps holding Tony. He should let go, but opportunities like this so rarely present themselves. Plus, Tony feels so good under his hands, strong and warm and just small enough to envelope in a hug if Steve let himself, if Tony wanted him to, and Tony does look dead on his (adorable, bare) feet…

“What else have you been working on today? This pet project?” 

“Hah?” Tony breathes, still wincing slightly from stepping on the magnet. “Oh yeah. For Bucky, when you find him. Ow, motherfucker, that hurt…”

The thing about being in Tony Stark’s presence is, it’s so easy to lose the plot. Tony’s mind moves faster than Steve could ever hope to match, mentally or physically; he’s always one pace behind, catching up. It’s fine, though; he actually kind of likes it, being challenged the way Tony challenges him, delighting in the push-pull of their banter and debates, the way Tony teaches him about science and tech and the 21st century without being condescending. Steve gets to a point where he thinks he knows Tony, how he operates, how his brain works—then moments like this happen, and it’s like he’s sprinted smack into a brick wall. 

“What?” 

“What?” 

“Bucky, you said—are you designing a new arm? For Bucky?” 

Tony seems to notice their position at that exact moment. Steve feels him blaze with heat where his hands are touching Tony’s bare skin. 

“Uh. Maybe?” At Steve’s look, Tony bites his lip and sighs. “Fine. Yeah, I am. Can you blame me? The thought of Sputnik wandering around the tower with that Cold War-era paperweight hanging off him when I’ve got brand-spanking-new, finely-tuned StarkTech all but ready to go? Perish, Steve, perish the thought.”

Tony is smiling up at him from his place in Steve’s arms, relaxed now, almost leaning into him, and all Steve can think is, he belongs here. 

“What’s that face?” Tony asks, curious but still smiling. He pokes Steve in the middle of the forehead with a cheeky grin. “Keep frowning like that, your face’ll stick.”

When, apparently, is right now. 

When Steve reaches up and takes Tony’s hand, he gets to watch Tony’s thoughts run into the wall, for once. 

When he weaves their fingers together, he gets to watch Tony’s mouth click shut and his eyes go wide. Super-hearing means he can count the beats of Tony’s racing heart without having to feel them. Steve’s telegraphing every movement, every feeling, as much as he possibly can now that words seem to have escaped him. 

He must manage okay, because the look that passes over Tony’s face is the same one Steve’s seen in the mirror a thousand times since the day he realized he was halfway in love with Tony Stark: wonder, one part lost, one part found. 

When he leans down, slowly, Steve gets to watch Tony’s beautiful eyes flicker and shut. He counts the dark lashes where they rest on Tony’s high cheekbones, breathes in his smell and listens to the shudder in his exhale before drawing him in for a kiss that draws everything else to a quiet, blissful blank.

When Tony pushes his fingers up into Steve’s hair, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, Steve drops his arms around Tony’s waist and pulls him in close with a soft groan. He’s warm and messy and still holding that damn screwdriver, but he kisses Steve soft and eager like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life, folds himself into Steve’s embrace like he wants to build a home right there in his arms. 

One day Steve will tell him he already did, a long time ago, and it wasn’t the least of anything. 

*** 

more fics on AO3!

[amydancepants-peralta]

6 & 77, if you can please 🥰💕

Okay hi @jacobperaltaz!  I’m very sorry this is so late … but I think my mind went into self-isolation for a bit there.  I hope the length of this makes up for my tardiness 😬

(big thank yous to @amyscascadingtabs, @fezzle and @b99peraltiago for all your help with this!  It takes a village! 💕)

(6: I love you & 77: Fuck, I have to be drunk to deal with you.)

the nine stages of a pregnant Amy Santiago

The level of tiredness that Jake Peralta feels tonight seeps all the way through to his bones, his eyelids held open by imaginary toothpicks as he rocks back and forth, soothing his son back to sleep with the steady rhythm.

It was only four weeks ago that, in what seemed like a mili-second but in actuality had stretched on for hours, Amy had given birth to their son.  And there have been many, many great moments in Jake’s life, but standing in a hospital room, gripping his wife’s hand as they both heard their son cry for the first time, will forever and always hold the top spot in his heart.  

The transition to home life had been challenging, like all life with a newborn is, and when baby Leo had let out his trademark cry half an hour ago Amy had groaned from her position next to Jake, legs clearly feeling heavier than cement as she attempted to raise herself out of bed.  But Jake had recognised this particular cry as the ‘my diaper is no longer clean and I demand a replacement’ cry, and had mumbled to his wife that it was his turn before stumbling towards the nursery like a half-awake zombie. 

(Truthfully, as far as Jake was concerned; any late night call that didn’t involve the boob needed to be his turn.  He and Amy, after all, were in this together - no matter what.)

Jake had changed the dirty diaper like the pro he’d become long before Amy had even given birth (turns out there were some advantages to having a Type A, over-preparing wife); and after lifting his son back into his arms and breathing in that incredibly addictive ‘new baby’ smell, he had started walking around the room, taking in all of the photographs and keepsakes that made it all so tastefully decorated.

Stopping by the changing table and picking up a framed photo of a selfie he and Amy had taken on their honeymoon, Jake twists to show the photograph to his son, pretending that even though his eyes are almost all the way closed, Leo can somehow still see what’s being held in front of him.  “This is your mama, baby boy.  She is literally the greatest person you’ll ever know, and you may not realise this just yet, but you have totally hit the jackpot by having her as your mother.  Just like I did all those years ago, when she shook my hand for the very first time.  I didn’t recognise the sparks until much later, but I’ve felt them every day since.”

From his warm and snuggly position within the crook of Jake’s arm, Leo lets out a tiny sniffle as fatigue begins to overtake his tiny body, and Jake’s heart squeezes at the sheer sweetness of the sight.  Settling in to the upholstered rocking chair that had been a gift from Amy’s parents, Jake uses his socked feet as leverage against the hardwood floor, moving the chair to replicate the same rhythm as before while he watches his son fall asleep in his arms.  

The world could take away all of the arrests he’s made, wipe out all of the cases he’s solved; and Jake wouldn’t care one bit.  This bundle of perfection right here, is the greatest thing he’s ever done.  

The Peralta curse didn’t stand a chance of survival in this home.  

“You, me and Mommy, bubba.  We make a dream team,” he whispers, glancing over at the baby monitor quickly to make sure his voice hasn’t woken his sleeping wife.  He can hear the gentle snores that only come out when Amy is really tired (the same ones that she is ADAMANT don’t happen, ever), and smiles in silent victory before turning his attention back to his now sleeping son.  The frame that Jake had just held in his hands is still resting along the edge of the table, and he takes in he and Amy’s happy, relaxed faces - a picture of total contentment after spending an entire day on a white sandy beach with absolutely no interruptions from their captain.  

Despite everything that they’d been through together, Amy Santiago still manages to amaze him every day - and watching her transform her body for nine months, purely to create a safe growing space for their child, only made Jake fall in love with her all the more.  

Especially because - much like her drinking scale - each month had brought about a new, different version of Amy.  And though she may not be in the right frame of mind for Jake to tell her all about it just yet, he lets the memory of it all wash over him as his son sleeps happily in his arms.  

Month One - Emotional Amy

It all begins on one seemingly innocent evening, as Jake walks back into the living room after calling his mother.  From his path, he can see Amy’s shoulders are bouncing with the steady movements that he knows only belong to those all-consuming sobs that happen so rarely, but were truly the worst thing in the world for him to see.  

With his phone landing on a spare pillow as he casts it aside, Jake makes his way towards his wife, enveloping her in his arms without a second thought as he presses gentle kisses against her hairline.  

His shirt is soaked through to the shoulder within seconds, and after a long few minutes the shuddering begins to slow.  Having spent the last few moments casing the scene in front of him, desperate to find the cause for such devastation (and frustratingly, coming up empty), Jake casts careful eyes towards Amy, raising his eyebrows in silent query.

Wiping her hand along the bottom of her nose, Amy rolls her eyes in mock amusement.  “Ugh, I don’t even know where that came from.”

Jake’s eyes flit towards the TV screen, ignoring the advertisement for life insurance as he turns his attention back to Amy.  “Honestly babe, I have no idea either.”  He waits for a moment, listening as her breath begins to return to normal before continuing.  “Wanna talk about it?”

She shrugs, mirroring Jake’s quick glance at the TV before shifting her position, resting her head against her husband’s chest instead.  “It was nothing, really.  Just some dumb ad.”

Ahh.  Nodding, Jake wraps one arm around Amy’s waist, letting his fingers splay out along her side.  “Was it the bank one again?”

Amy shakes her head, burrows in a little further.  

“The broken coffee machine that reunites the long-lost friends?”

Another shake.

“Ohhh, it’s gotta be the detergent one then, right?!”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Amy looks up at Jake, resting her chin against his chest.  “It wasn’t any of them.  I can’t even … you’ll just have to wait and see it, babe.”  Her head drops down again, one hand reaching underneath to grip Jake a little tighter from her position.  “Just stick around, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ames.”

It only takes one and a half more ad breaks before the offender returns, in all it’s tear-jerking glory:  the Chevrolet Equinox - packed in with an all time high towing capacity.  

Jake feels the deep breath run through Amy’s chest as the thick wheels sling mud across the screen, a supposedly tough voice muttering it’s way through specifications that Jake truly has never really understood as his attention turns towards his wife, all the tell-tale signs of a imminent crying session flashing bright and loud.  In confusion, he blinks back towards the screen, making sure that he is, in fact, still watching an overpriced advertisement … for a CAR … before turning back to Amy, his arms instinctively wrapping around her as the tears begin to fall.  

“I mean, they must have just worked so hard on that car … and look at it, it’s so … so … strong!”  Sighing, Amy rests her head against Jake’s shoulder, nestling in for the long haul.  “An all-time high.  Their parents must be SO proud.”

Nodding, Jake runs his hands back up and down Amy’s back, temporarily unable to speak as the price of the car flashes up on the screen before merging into an ad for Cheerios.  Briefly, he remembers to add cereal to the shopping list, then glances down at his desolate wife.  

They’ve been together for so long by now that the notion of Amy crying at a commercial was not a new one - but an ad that doesn’t even have a tugging at the heartstrings kind of moment?  Rather, was chockfull of unnecessary testosterone and way-too-shiny-to-be-realistic vehicles?  That was entirely new territory.  

Her eyes are relatively dry by now, and she’s humming along to an ad for jelly, but Jake still doesn’t understand what just happened.  Cars aren’t designed to break people’s hearts (and okay, maybe coffee machines and detergents weren’t supposed to either, but you can see the angle they’re going for).  And then, with a glance to the right, he picks up on the packet of hormone tablets still resting on the kitchen bench after Amy had taken one right before dinner.  

Smooth solve, Detective.  Amy had mentioned there may be side effects, and really Jake had just nodded when she’d said it, because honestly after the plethora of pellets that the two of them had digested during all those months of trying, side effects no longer seemed to concern him.  

Perhaps, these reactions were going to be slightly more noticeable than the others.  (Although, just quietly, he does miss how soft his hair felt during those months.  If only he could figure out which of the 389 different tablets had been the cause.)

Amy looks up at Jake with a grin as the opening credits to Property Brothers begin, and without hesitation he leans down to place a quick kiss against her lips.  She was making her body jump through so many hoops; all in the hopes of being able to start a family with him, and there really won’t ever be a way for Jake to describe just how thankful he is that somebody like Amy Santiago could fall in love with him.  He’d do whatever he could to make her happy, and consoling her through a few extra tears seems like the least of the world’s problems. 

She sighs against his lips, pushing up slightly for another kiss and smiling, resting her head against Jake’s chest entirely as the episode begins.  It’s turning into a night just like all the others, and he could have a thousand more and still never get enough.  

And so with the coming weeks, Amy cries.  When Jake notices they’re nearly out of butter, and buys two extra from the store because they’re on sale.  When he pulls an extra blanket over to the couch, before she’s even sat down.  She cries when one of her newer officers hands in an arrest report, and it’s so neat and so thorough that she’s able to approve and pass it on to Holt without any need for corrections; and cries when the local fruit shop has avocados on sale.

There are times when Jake wonders if maybe they should speak to their doctor, but then he reasons that if Amy isn’t concerned, then he shouldn’t be.  And a few weeks later, when she holds up a positive test and beams at him like the brightest sunshine in all the world, things finally begin to make a little more sense.  

Month Two - Always Hot Amy

There is absolutely no secret to the fact that Jake considers Amy to be the single most hottest woman he’s ever met.  Holding the ability to turn him on with a simple flick of a button, Jake has long since been an admirer (and frequent worshipper) at the Altar of Amy.  

But five weeks in to what they eventually discover to be her pregnancy, Amy’s hotness level have skyrocketed to a record-breaking high - literally becoming the Hottest Woman in the World: Ultra Sweaty Edition. 

“Uhh … babe?”  Jake begins hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“So I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because I am absolutely a fan of what you are wearing, but … how are you not freezing right now??”

Amy looks over at Jake, furrowing her brow as she glances down at her current outfit of just her underwear and Jake’s favourite blue hoodie.  Shrugging, she looks over at her husband, seemingly noticing for the first time that he’s covered head to toe in socks, jeans, sweater and a beanie.  “Wait.  Are you cold, babe?”

Chuckling, Jake reaches out a hand towards Amy as she walks towards him, taking in the slight sheen of her perspiring skin and tucking it away for future reference (honestly, it’s a testament to her power, that even covered in sweat Jake still finds Amy beyond attractive).  “I mean, you’ve cranked the air-conditioning into Antarctica Mode, so … yeah, a little.”

Her fingers slide against his skin, toying with his wedding band before dipping beneath the sweater to touch his back, and oh she’s warm, so very warm.  He sighs, and she smiles, and there really can’t ever be a doubt that Amy Santiago is just … everything.

Pushing herself onto her tippy toes, Amy juts her chin forward in a silent request for a kiss, and it’s a demand that Jake is only too happy to oblige.  “I’m sorry babe,” she mumbles against his lips, impossibly warm hands scaling slowly up to the centre of his spine.  “We can turn it back up.  I’m pretty sure I’ve still got some sponges in the cupboard somewhere from last time.  Those things were surprisingly absorbent.”

Shaking his head, Jake wraps his hands around Amy’s waist, smiling as she jumps from the cool touch of his still kind-of-freezing hands.  “No way, Ames.  There’s a teeny tiny version of the two of us growing in there, and we need to make sure they stay nice and warm.”

Her teeth bite into her lower lip slightly, bridling the same excitement that washes over her face whenever Jake mentions the fact that they were most definitely having a baby.  It’s the same giddiness that bubbles up inside his stomach at the thought, and there are days when the anticipation of it all is just too much.  

Amy’s palms flatten against his back, and she presses herself against him in a move that they both know is going to end well.  “I guess that just means that I’m going to have to find ways to warm you up then, detective.“

In a few weeks time, when she’s finished compiling the First Trimester Pregnancy Binder and researching the heck out of the remaining two, Amy will come to understand that it’s an elevation of her hormone levels and an increase in her metabolism that had brought on the sudden need to perspire with every passing minute.  She still steals her husband’s hoodies - because within the four walls of their apartment, all of Jake’s jackets belong to Amy - and on her days off he will often come home and find her wrapped up in that and little else.  It may or may not become his favourite sight to come home to (soon to be taken over by the sight of her cuddling their son, and then playing with their toddler while she struggles with the growing bump of baby number two … the list goes on, but you get what he means).

In the meantime, Jake perseveres by jumping at any chance to duck down to their local bodega - if for no other reason than to thaw out for a minute - and slowly Amy’s body learns to adjust to the changes without perspiration.  

And then, the morning sickness comes.  

Month Three - Life Kinda Sucks RN Amy

Month Three almost hits them like clockwork, waking Amy up early one morning with the overwhelming need to vomit and giving her mere seconds to react before it will be too late.

By day six, they’ve got the routine down pat:  Amy makes a run for it as soon as the nausea hits, and Jake heads into the kitchen for a cool glass of water; resting it on the counter next to the sink before settling in beside Amy to rub her back in the way he knows she loves.  Her toothbrush is forever at the ready, and on their days off Jake will run a bath while she brushes, using the camomile scented bath bombs that his wife has always loved until one day the scent begins to turn her stomach all over again.  

Each day from then on becomes a process of discovery, each playing the game of Whats Going To Make Amy Throw Up Today, in which neither of them are ever really winners.  

It takes them several trials, but eventually they figure out a safe routine for their drive to work each morning - Amy in the passenger seat with the window cracked open at exactly 23%, the radio set on low volume to her favourite NPR station and her hand resting against Jake’s leg as he drives 7 miles below the limit.  Her hand squeezes his knee every time he shifts to hit the brake, and he grips it right back once the car is parked and they slowly walk into the precinct.  

She keeps up appearances, refusing to be considered as anything less than an asset to the workplace, but in both her and Jake’s desk drawers there are an endless supply of Saltine crackers - one of the few things that her morning-sickness-ravaged stomach seems to be able to keep down.  She learns to avoid the area surrounding Boyle’s desk at all costs, and to take the stairs whenever possible because the dipping motion of the elevator coming to a stop makes her stomach feel as though it is literally turning inside out.  

Her body is starting to give away the signs of a life growing inside her, and so Amy starts carrying boxes everywhere and choosing larger-than-necessary outfits, all in an attempt to conceal what must be so obvious to the rest of the office.  And even though the urge to burst out the good news every single time they walk into the bullpen, the fear of something going wrong is just too strong, and so they wait.

(And pretend it’s totally normal for Amy to be running to the ladies room multiple times for the first three hours of every day.  Or for Jake to check up on his wife at increasingly regular intervals.)

(Okay, maybe the second one is actually completely normal.)

Within the secured familiarity of their home, Amy falls apart every afternoon, pointing out just how tired and frumpy and over it she is, knowing that she can complain to Jake without ever feeling judged.  She loves being pregnant - and genuinely cannot wait to meet their little one - but right now, with the constant dizziness and the need to pee every other damn minute, it’s hard to feel anything but BLAH.  

And every afternoon without fail, Jake takes Amy into his arms, absorbing all of her frustrations and giving her nothing but support in return.  Sometimes they go for walks around the neighbourhood - sharing secret glances of elation every time they pass another couple with a baby in a stroller - and sometimes, he sets up the living room with a pile of blankets and a list of documentaries, all of which Amy has been dying to see (and maybe there will be a sneaky action movie thrown in, just to spice things up).  

He holds her through the night when she needs it, and in the morning he’s by her side once again, holding back the hair that escaped her messy ponytail.  They were in this together, and though temporary, moments like these never seem so terrible when you share them with the one you love.

Even when the one you love suddenly has unquenchable cravings for sour gummies mixed into yoghurt with granola on top.  Or - and this is the truly strange one - for VEGETABLES.  

Month Four - Life is AMAZING Amy

Jake’s fingers toy with the peeling edges of the sticker on his bottle of Heisler, laughing at Gina’s anecdotes as she finishes up a story about spending an afternoon with one of her fans.  The squad had gathered at Shaw’s tonight to celebrate Terry’s birthday, and it was turning out to be a pretty great night - if for no other reason than how glowing Amy looks as she chats with Boyle a few metres away.

By the grace of all that is good, the morning sickness seems to have finally held itself at bay, and if the adorable little shimmy that his wife made when she slipped into her new floral dress earlier tonight is anything to go by, Amy was finally starting to feel a lot more human.

Lifting the bottle up to take a quick sip, Jake savours the taste as it lingers on his tongue.  He hadn’t done much drinking in the last few months (because if Amy can’t drink, then he can’t drink, hashtag SOLIDARITY), but Amy had encouraged him tonight, buying the first round as she reminded him that the more you drink, the more I can kiss off your lips later - and honestly, Jake’s never taken a draft as quickly as he did at when she handed him a bottle.  Truth be told, he didn’t intend on drinking a lot - he and Amy had an ultrasound appointment booked for mid tomorrow morning, and the anticipation of getting another glimpse of their baby was far more appealing than any drunken adventure could ever be.  

His attention turns back to Amy - because in all honesty its never too far away from being on her anyway - and when she laughs at something Charles says he cannot help but replicate her grin with his own.

The redhead across from Jake clears her throat loudly, far too pointed for it to be anything but a deliberate protest, and he grins sheepishly.  “Sorry, G.”

With a roll of her eyes, Gina tips her almost empty glass towards Amy.  “Don’t get me wrong, boo.  It’s great that you’re having a mini pantsuit-wearing baby with your wife, but you two are still so loved up it’s almost sickening.”

The sheepish grin turns smug, but he doesn’t care.  He and Amy are all loved up, and it’s ridiculous and stupid but also the happiest he’s been.  They’re creating a family, of their very own, and life is awesome.  He looks back over at Amy, catching her eye this time, and she grins when he winks.  The nights have gotten cooler, and he’s discovered that the feeling of falling asleep with a (sometimes naked!) Amy snuggled into him, the bump of their tiny but growing baby pressing up against his back, is truly the greatest thing.  Even more so, when he relinquishes the Little Spoon role and wraps Amy up into his arms, leaving his palm flat against her stomach so that he can hug their future child just as much.  

(Seriously, if anybody had ever thought to tell him how great it is to be the Big Spoon in that situation, he would have put his hand up on Day One.)

Gina clears her throat again, and Jake shrugs.  “I know.  It’s a little much.  But … this right here is proof that not all Peralta’s are lost causes, Gina.  And you’re wrong about the pantsuit wearing, by the way.  Our baby is clearly going to be a mini McClane slash Harry Potter … or Hermione, depending on how things go.”  He drains the bottle, letting it hit the table with a heavy thud.  “Point is, baby Peralta-Santiago could be a nerd or a badass or both, and it will still be super-mega-loved.”

His friend is in the middle of replying, “Plus, Iggy will always be an option for cool lessons” when Jake notices that Amy is now within hearing range, and walking towards him with a giant smile on her face.  Shuffling over slightly to give her a space to sit, Jake lifts his head slightly to receive Amy’s welcoming kiss as she leans across the table.  

“You’re totally right, babe.  Our baby is going to be a nerdy badass.  And I think that’s awesome.”  Her warm eyes slide over to Linetti.  “Hey, Gina.  Saw you sitting here with my handsome husband and thought I’d come say hi.”  

Gina nods, and Amy looks over at Jake, biting her lower lip softly, holding back an even wider smile.  “And, to tell this guy that I love him.”  Reaching out, she ruffles his hair, and Jake can feel the blush rising in his cheeks.  

“Amy’s body seems to be producing a lot of ‘affirmation stylez’ hormones lately,” he explains in way of apology, and Gina nods warily.

“It sure is!  And it’s amazing.  My skin is all glowy, I’m not vomiting every hour, AND I’m having a baby with the love of my life.  What’s not to be happy about?!”

“Ugh.”  Turning her attention towards Boyle as he passes by, Gina shouts out - “Charles!  Whiskey!” Before swivelling back to the couple.  “Sorry.  But you guys are just … I have to be drunk to deal with you.”

Amy chuckles, leaning forward so that she can rest her elbows on the surprisingly un-sticky table.  “Whatever, Gina.  You can act all tough and put on that snarky exterior all you like, but you forget that I know you.  You love me.  And guess what?  I love you as well.”  The chuckle turns into laughter as the redhead’s face morphs into one of horror, reaching out to rest her hand on the table between them.  “I do.  You’ve been there for Jake so many times there’s no way either of you could count it all.  Through thick and thin, you created a safe space for this amazing person to turn into the man he is today, and I thank you, Gina.  Truly.  Life can be crazy, but it can also be so magical, and I love you.”  

Amy leans back, resting against Jake’s right side as he throws his arms around her shoulders.  “And you know you love me, too.  It’s okay if you don’t want to say it.  I’ve got enough serotonin running through my body right now to say it for both of us.  I love you, you love me, and we both love this guy right here.”

The roll of Gina’s eyes is small, but goes unnoticed as a gentle blush washes over her cheeks.  She clears her throat in an effort to break through the emotionally charged moment, muttering “Okay, let’s not go turning ourselves into purple dinosaurs or anything,” as she squirms in her seat.  Amy grins at her obvious discomfort, too high on the excitement of finding out the sex of her baby soon to be concerned with anything else.

“Gina!  My former lover and former sister.  I have an important task, and you’re the only one I can trust with it.” Charles interrupts, placing a new glass of whiskey on the table as he stands next to the booth.  “Come, help me get my picture taken.”

Straightening her back Gina scans the interior of the bar, eyebrows knitting when she doesn’t recognise any faces.  “Why, is there someone famous here?  Is it Beyoncé?  Charles, are you telling me Beyoncé is here?”

Cocking his head to the side, Charles mirrors Gina’s confused expression.  “Huh?  No, I need a photo taken with Baby Peraltiago in utero!  I’ve only gotten ten so far, and it’s not nearly enough for my slideshow!”

Staring for a beat, Gina quickly lifts her glass and downs the entire contents in one gulp.  “Ok that’s me out guys.  Remember to do your daily Gina-mandments for a rich and fulfilling life.  Peace out, G-Hive.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Charles flops into the seat that Gina vacated, and in his misery doesn’t notice Amy leaving a quick kiss below Jake’s ear before leaning in to whisper something.  She pulls away, locking eyes for a solid minute, and Jake clears his throat before standing.  “Yeah, we’re out too, bud.  Baby growing and all that.  Night!”

Bewildered, Charles glances around the empty booth.  “Was it something I said?”

Month Five - Horny Amy

Jake’s favourite of all months, by far.  And also, the most exhausting. 

But he’s a gentleman, and he’s definitely not going to go into the details. 

.

Yeah.  Most definitely his favourite.  

Month Six - Señora Santiago

It had been a long day at work, and Jake was beyond tired by the time he finally walked through the door.  Despite her ever-growing case of FOMOW, Amy’s shifts had been reduced slightly to allow time for her to rest, and the days moved infinitely slower without her calming presence.  

Jake notices her as soon as he walks through the door, spread out on the couch with her feet propped up on a pillow, and he throws her a smile as he slides his jacket off and hangs it on the rack.  “Hey, babe.  How are you feeling?”

There’s a soft grunt in reply, followed by a mumbled “Un poco cansada .… pero bien.”

Kicking off his shoes near the doorway, Jake’s socked feet pad across the living floor as he makes his way over to his wife.  He leans down for a gentle kiss against her forehead, running his thumb along her hairline while she looks up at him with those eyes that he never fails to get lost in (the same eyes that he kinda hopes that his son will grow up with).  “Ah, lo siento” is his automatic reply, moving his hand to run along her arm soothingly.

She grabs it before he has a chance to pull away, finely cut fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric as Amy tugs him back towards her.  “What was that you just said?”

Jake blinks.  “… Lo siento?  Oh man, did I say it wrong?”

“No!  You said it exactly right.  I just … when did you just start speaking Spanish?!”

“Oh, that.”

“YES, oh that!”

His grin is sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck self-consciously before lifting Amy’s feet, settling onto the couch and returning them to his lap.  As his hands begin to rub, he shrugs - “I .. kinda started taking lessons about a year ago, and then life got a little crazy and I forgot to stick with it.  After we fell pregnant, it kinda felt like the right thing for me to start learning again.”

Her toes wriggle against his fingers, and Jake breaks his focus, looking up at Amy.  “You never told me you started learning before,” she mumbles, a thoughtful look on her face, and Jake finds himself shrugging again.

“I guess … I just wanted to understand what you and your family were talking about whenever you’re all together.  It can get a little intense, listening to the words flying about and having literally no idea what the topic is.”  Running his thumbs in deep circles across the arch of Amy’s foot, Jake grins as she lets out a sigh.  “Plus, I really wanted your parents to think I was good enough for you.”

Amy’s legs tense above Jake’s lap as she pulls them away, and she reaches out a hand for assistance as she attempts to sit up (a simple movement that, with her growing baby bump, was becoming not so simple).  She keeps a grip of Jake’s hand, resting his palm against her belly as she reaches up with the other to cup his face.  Under his touch, Jake begins to feel the gentle kick as his son moves about freely.  

“You feel that, babe?”  Amy’s voice is soft, and gentle in its tone, but all Jake can do in reply is a simple nod.  

“That right there, is your son, and he loves you so. much. already, it’s ridiculous.  He practically does somersaults in my womb every time you enter the room.  He adores you, just like I adore you, and you don’t ever need to worry about not being good enough for either of us.”

A lump begins to form in Jake’s throat, memories of conversations with his father about the Peralta Curse still swimming about in his mind.  If there was anything that was becoming abundantly clear, it was that no curse could possibly hold strong against the heart of Amy Santiago.  HIs voice might be cracking a little when he speaks next, but he honestly doesn’t care.  “I love you so much.”

She responds with a kiss, one hand holding him tight to her belly as the other strokes his cheek, and oh, esto es amor.

*

In the passing weeks, Amy takes to speaking Spanish on a more frequent basis - very aware that their baby boy is able to hear things now, if the multitude of pregnancy books that are stacked up on her and Jake’s besides tables are anything to go by.  It’s unmistakeable, the pride that Jake feels whenever he picks up on what his wife is saying; or even plucks up the courage to respond in this once foreign language, and he never thought he’d say this but he genuinely cannot wait until they meet up with Amy’s parents again.  They never could have seen this coming.

And then Jake comes home late one night, and finds Amy nestled into the rocking chair that had been a hand-me-down from her brother Matthew, singing to their son so soft, so sweetly that his hearts just about beats right out of his chest.  

He walks into the room just as Amy begins the next verse, “Me haces feliz cuando los cielos están gris …” and when she notices him in the room, switches languages with the skill of someone who has been doing it their whole life (and just how one day, someday, their son will).  Her voice is softer now, and the look in her eyes pulls Jake in with a single blink.  “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you …”

The rest of the song falls away, as he leans in for a kiss - a soft kiss, full of love and hope and promises and wonder.  This child of theirs was already so lucky, already so loved.  

These next three months are going to be the longest of his life.

Month Seven - Worried Amy

The moment the elevator doors slide open and the bullpen comes into focus, Jake’s eyes scan the room with only one target in mind.  It takes him less than three seconds to find her, sitting at his desk in such a familiar way that his heart pangs a little for all the times she sat there and didn’t refer to him as the love of her life.

He can see Amy’s chest rise and fall as she releases the breath she was obviously holding, her relief undeniable as her eyes lock onto his, holding steady as he walks towards her with a careful step.

Today had been just your standard work day, with he and Rosa heading out to Bushwick to follow a lead that had (thankfully) proven to be very successful.  And while texts between Jake and Amy had always been a pretty regular occurrence - ramped up, naturally, once they started dating - there had been a steady vibration coming from his jean pocket for the last two hours, and instinctively he knew that there was way more to this than just his wife killing time while on desk duty.

Shooting a glance at Rosa, Jake waits for the detective to nod before making a beeline for his desk.  He could tell, now that he was closer, that Amy was showing all the classic signs of Distracted Amy - jiggling knees, chewing on the lower right corner of her lip, and the persistent twirl of her wedding band, round and round.  He grabs her wrist gently when he’s close enough, stopping the movement and using his thumb to stroke her soft skin soothingly.  “Lock-up?” 

Amy nods quickly, her jaw unclenching slightly as she swallows whatever thought she was about to vocalise.  She doesn’t even wait the usual thirty-four seconds for Jake to leave before she’s following him into the evidence lock-up, far too distracted by whatever’s on her mind to care about the rest of the bullpen noticing that they’ve walked off together.

“You okay?” Jake asks carefully, wrapping one arm around her shoulders once the lock to the room has been secured, breathing in the familiar coconut scent of Amy’s hair as she falls into his embrace.  There’s a nod, felt up against his chest, and then she’s tucking her head down into the juncture of his neck and tightening her grip around his waist tenfold.  

“I am now.  Just .. can’t turn it off.”  Her voice is muffled, but warm against his skin.

“Turn what off, babe?”

There’s a pause, and a heavy sigh.  “My mind.”  

Jake begins to move his hand slowly up and down Amy’s back, waiting for his wife to continue before speaking.  He’s never found a reason to turn off her mind - Amy’s mind is one of his favourite things about her. 

After another minute or two, she lifts her head slightly, resting her chin against his chest.  “There was a shoot-out in Williamsburg today.”

“Oh yeah?”

Amy nods.  “Yeah.  And even though I knew you were in Bushwick, and that you were one hundred percent not on the scene, I couldn’t stop feeling terrified that maybe, somehow, you had ended up there.”

“I’m sorry if I didn’t answer your texts right away, babe.”

She shakes her head.  “No, you were working a case, I get it.  But even after you replied, I started worrying about what would have happened if you had been there, if something had happened to you, and I just …” tucking herself back into Jake’s neck, Amy lets out a choked sob.  “Are we crazy, Jake?  Is it absolutely insane that we’re bringing a new life into this world that is going to be entirely dependent on us, when there’s always a very good chance that one of us doesn’t come home?”

“Ames, hey … shhh, babe.  It’s fine.  I’m fine, we’re fine.  You don’t need to worry.”  Jake can feel the tears threaten to sting his eyes, once again cursing his mother for passing down a tendency for sympathetic crying.  “And yeah, maybe we’re a little crazy, but - ”

“And then I was reading a news article about this shark attack in Manhattan, and I started freaking out because … what if we take our son to Coney Island and something like that happens?  Or we get into a car accident or something?”

“I mean … do we even know if there are sharks in the water here?”

She sniffs loudly, raising her head to meet Jake’s stare.  “26.  There are 26 different species in New York waters.”

“Okay, I love that you know that.”

Amy shrugs sheepishly.  “I might have looked it up.  Which didn’t help at all, really.  So then I started worrying about my maternity leave, and if we can really afford for me to be away for so long, and look I know this probably sounds really paranoid but I swear this baby isn’t moving nearly as much as he normally does, and it’s all just kinda freaking me out, Jake!”

“Ames, Ames, Ames … come here, babe.  You’ve gotta calm down a little bit, okay?”  Amy’s arms don’t wrap around him this time, choosing instead to stay tucked up as she grabs onto the chain that his badge hangs from, holding it close to her own chest.  The tears start flowing now, pooling against his work shirt, and Jake’s heart breaks a little at the sight of it.  He can feel the fear and worry radiating from every pore on his wife’s body, and it’s worse than he could have possibly imagined.  

Slowly, the crying converts to the occasional hiccup, and Jake runs one hand through Amy’s hair, careful to keep the work-appropriate ponytail looking neat and professional.  “We’re going to be fine, Ames.  And as for the whole shark thing, I’ll have you know that you are looking at someone who very recently did some detective work into a very similar subject.”

Amy wipes her hand under her nose, looking up in confusion.  “You did?”

“Oh, absolutely.”  Clearing his throat, Jake maintains his gentle grip around Amy’s waist and continues.  “I’ll have you know, Ames, that you are more likely to get killed by a cow than a shark.  And I don’t know about you, but I have not seen any cows at the beach lately.  So we can totally go take our mini-McClane to the beach on weekends.”

“We’re not naming our son after a movie, Jake.”

“No comeback for the cow thing, I see.  How’s about another amazing factoid?  There are literally more ways to shuffle a deck of cards, then there are atoms on the earth.”  Jake pauses, miming an explosion on top of his head before returning his hands to her waist, clearly proud of the facts he’s just recited.

Amy narrows her eyes, cocking her head to one side.  “You’ve been reading Buzzfeed articles again, haven’t you?”

“Whaaaaat? No, I’m just really really into cows and atoms, and - okay yes, I might have clicked on a link or two the other day.”  He winces.  “But .. it was turns out it was all in the aid of helping you calm your nerves!  We’re two of the best cops the NYPD has ever seen, Ames.  And we’ve had to put up with some pretty crappy circumstances throughout the years.  Nothing is going to get to us.”

“But what if …”

Jake shakes his head.  “There is a whole shelf of parenthood related books taking pride of place in our reading room, and at least 10 binders that I can think of that are choc-filled to the brim with all of the information anybody could possibly want to know about babies.  We are more than prepared, babe.  Whatever else comes, we’ll figure it out.  We’re a team, and more importantly, we’re a family.  And nothing’s going to change that.”

Amy’s eyes grow soft, and she rests her hands on his chest.  Briefly, a flashback to a lot of change around here, huh? runs through Jake’s mind, and he smiles at the realisation of just how far they’ve come.  His wife’s voice is still heavy with trepidation, but there’s a little less fear in her gaze, and he’s counting that as a win.  “You really think so, Jake?”

Unable to resist, Jake leans his head down slightly for a soft kiss, pressing his lips against Amy’s and trying with all his might to chase her worries away.  “I do.  And as for you, young man -” he begins, sliding his hands from Amy’s waist to rest on either side of her belly.  “How about you calm your Mama’s mind and do a little twist, or a kick or something?”

It takes another minute or two, and Jake is just about to ramp up the scalding when he hears Amy’s sharp intake of breath, and only a second later he feels the gentle push of his son’s body against his hand.  “That’s more like it,” Amy breathes, busting out a smile that could light up the room.

“Much better,”  Jake agrees, crooking his finger underneath Amy’s chin and pulling her forward for another kiss.  “We’re going to do this together, babe.  You and me.  And don’t forget, we’ve got the whole 99 on standby if we ever need assistance.  I don’t even need to tell you how quickly Charles would jump into action if we asked.”

Amy grimaces, face brightening as she begins to laugh at the image.  “You’re absolutely right.  I love you, Jake Peralta.”

“I love you, Amy Santiago.”  Dipping his head lower, Jake runs his right hand in a gentle circle against Amy’s belly.  “And I love you as well, little Shrek.”

Amy’s body bounces with laughter, and she tugs Jake down for a soft thank you kiss.  “You always know the right thing to say, babe.  Thank you.”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse.  Besides, I think we’re both forgetting the most important detail here.”

“What’s that?”

“We both have Rosa’s number on speed dial.  Honestly, I pity whatever we put her up against.”

“Oh, absolutely.  Agreed.”

 Month Eight - Nesting Amy

It’s the overwhelming smell of Pledge, whacking Jake in the face as he opens their front door, that tells him that once again Amy has not had a relaxing day at home.

There was less than five weeks until their baby’s due date, and at the insistence of both Jake and Holt himself, Amy had been placed on maternity leave, with strict instructions to return only when she has a super-cute adorable baby to show off.  

So far, however, Amy has taken her doctor’s directive of ‘bed rest and preparation for your baby’s arrival’, and twisted it into ‘obsessively clean every square inch of your apartment’.

She’s waddling down the hallway of their apartment, arms full of freshly dried laundry, when she notices Jake is finally home.  “Hey babe!  How was work?”

Leaning over the pile of socks and shirts, Jake plants a chaste kiss against Amy’s lips.  There were a million ways to describe work without Amy in the building (boring, long and kinda lonely spring to mind), but right now he’s a little too distracted to give her a more concise answer.  “Ah, it was work.”

“Okay?”

Following her through to the kitchen, Jake takes the laundry from Amy’s hands and dumps them on the dining table, sorting the various items into piles just the way she likes.  “So,” he begins casually, “how many cans of Pledge did you go through today?”

Amy’s hands freeze mid-air, fingers still stretched out towards a wayward sock, and she glances at Jake out of the corner of her eye.  “Ah, just the one.”

“And the rest of the day you totally just relaxed on the couch and caught up with all those shows we never get time to watch, right?”

“Yep.  Sure did.”

Jake nods, taking a quick look at their open plan apartment.  “Geez, the windows look awfully sparkly today.”

Unable to contain her glee, Amy grins.  “I know!  I found this amazing glass cleaner that I thought I had run out of.  Those are the cleanest windows in New York City, babe.  You could practically eat off of them.”

“I’m definitely impressed, Ames.  Especially that you did it from your resting position on the couch.  Seriously, kudos to you.”

“Ugh.  Okay, fine!  You busted me.  But I can’t help it, babe!  Every time I sit down, I see another little speck of dust or I remember just how long it’s been since I’ve cleaned the air-conditioning vents and suddenly three hours have passed by.”  Wringing her hands together slightly, she shrugs.  “Also, I may have bumped into that lamp we had in the corner and broken it.  Or rather, the bump bumped into it.  I swear, just when I think I’ve gotten used to how big I’m getting, I grow another inch or seven.”  

Jake laughs, placing the last neatly folded shirt onto the pile of all the others.  “Hey, that’s my sexy as hell, domestic goddess wife you’re talking about there.“

She grunts, dropping her head down to look at her swollen stomach before looking back up at Jake.  “I don’t feel sexy.  I feel like a rotisserie chicken.”

“Okay, I’m really going to need you to distract me right now, so that I don’t make a terrible joke about juicy breasts.”

“Jake.”

“Got it.  You do not look like a rotisserie chicken, Ames.  You look like a beautiful woman, who is eight months pregnant and has spent her entire day cleaning an apartment that was already ridiculously clean.”

“I may have also moved some furniture around,”  Amy mumbles, interjecting quickly with a “Light furniture!  Just chairs and stuff.  Nothing big - well, you’ll see” as she notices the exasperated look on Jake’s face.  Oh, how he loves her.

“Ames, obviously I can’t stop you, and there’s no way I’m going to tell you what to do.  I just think right now would be the best time to follow your doctor’s orders and rest.  In a few weeks time, we’re both going to be rueing the day we had the chance to sleep and didn’t take it.”

Amy nods, coyly raising her eyebrows.  “I’ll do you a deal, Peralta.  I’ll spend the rest of the evening on the couch, so long as you’ll be my cuddle buddy.”

Grinning, Jake leans into Amy, pressing a miniature kiss against the tip of her nose.  “I’ll do you one better, babe.  I’ll stay with you on the couch all night tonight and tomorrow night; AND during the day you can put me on cleaning duty for anything that catches your eye, no matter how small.”  He winks, continuing.  “If you’re lucky, I might even be able to rustle up a French Maid outfit for added effect.”

Amy’s hands come to rest on either side of his face, her touch so amazingly warm that it still makes his heart skip all these years later.  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Month Nine - Surprisingly good at French Amy

“PUTAIN!” Amy cries out, reaching out to grab the edge of Jake’s scrubs as she pulls him closer.    “Ça fait tellement mal!”

Wincing, Jake listens to the anguished cries of his wife, reaching one hand towards his collar and gripping her hand in his.  With the other, he fumbles for his phone, trying in vain to open the DuoLingo app and figure out just what exactly his wife was saying.  Judging from the tone, it wasn’t great - and she had mentioned once or twice that she’d minored in French in college - but he’d never heard such a regular string of completely incomprehensible words fall out of Amy’s mouth.  

A clammy hand grips the back of Jake’s neck, and its Amy pulling him forwards, yanking him until their foreheads are touching.  “Jake.  I can’t do this.  I can’t.  It hurts too much.”

None of this night was going to plan.

There are laminated copies of Amy’s birthing plan in every possible place - from their house to their car, the top drawers of both her and Jake’s desk, and even a copy with Captain Holt and Lieutenant Jeffords, just in case something should happen to go awry.  It was very clear cut in its instructions - single spaced, double sided, Santiago style - and had left no doubt in anyone close to them’s minds exactly what was expected to occur once Amy’s water finally broke.

What all the research and binders and testimonies hadn’t anticipated, and therefore turns out to be exactly what ends up happening, is a city-wide blackout with both Amy and Jake stuck in traffic after pursuing a lead on the other side of town, with absolutely no way out.

It had taken fourteen different phone conversations, the call in on several different favours and one tiny sacrifice to the gods before he and Amy had made it to their hospital, and by the time the nurses wheeled her into the delivery room, it was far too late for Amy to be considered for an epidural.  Jake’s heart had broken for her, as she was told the news and an undeniable look of terror ran over her features.  Absolutely nothing was going to plan - and while Amy’s water had indeed broken on her due date (Santiago’s are nothing if not punctual, after all) - Jake couldn’t help but feel that everything that had happened since that moment had more to do with the Peralta genes than his wife’s.  

But there was a snowball’s chance in hell that Jake was going to let Amy believe she couldn’t do this.  She absolutely could.  She could do anything.  And so he rests his weight against the side of the bed; flitting his eyes over to the clock on the table and calculating that they were probably only another twenty seconds away from another contraction, and crooks his finger into the edge of Amy’s chin, bumping her up slightly to meet his gaze.  “Yes you can, Ames.  You’re the strongest person I know, and you can do this.  I know you can.  And I’m going to be right here with you, the whole time.”

Closing her eyes as the wave of another contraction hits, Amy whispers “Merde” before gripping onto Jake’s hand for dear life, fingernails leaving tiny blood-filled crescent moons in his skin when she finally pulls away.  

*

The hands on the clock on the wall have moved significantly by the time Leo Peralta makes his debut, the unmistakeable sound of his cries bouncing off the hospital ward’s walls as he shouts his protest in the sudden change of environment.

Jake’s left hand is completely numb - he’s pretty sure Amy has squeezed all life out of it - but he is filled with total elation and a total adoration for the true warrior that is Amy.  He never could have done half of the things she did today, but even now after all of the pain she went through, there is an unbreakable smile on her face as she holds their son in her arms for the very first time.

(He’s also learned four brand new curse words, all of which he never would have expected to come out his gentle natured wife’s mouth, but he also hasn’t just pushed a human being out of his body, so really - who is he to judge?)

Jake rests on the bed next to Amy, leaning over slightly to run a finger along the edge of his son’s mouth in wonder.  It is incredible, really - how much he could love somebody so instantly, and so unconditionally.  “You did it, Ames.  You brought our son into the world.”

Amy smiles, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny bundle in her arms just yet.  “We did it, babe.  There’s no way I would have been able to do this without you.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head in response, and whispers I love you.  A moment later, Amy is passing him their son to hold, and it doesn’t seem right how somebody that holds so much weight in Jake’s life could feel so light right now.  

“Hey there, little man.  Welcome to the family, pal.”  He hears a sniff to his left, and turns to see Amy brush a tear away from her cheek.  

“My two favourite men in the whole world.  I just love you both, so much.  So much.”

Jake’s tears begin to fall as well, the overwhelming emotions of the day finally proving too much.

Finally, the child they had been hoping for, for so long, was here.  

And finally, they were parents.  

“Best day ever.”

***

With slow and careful movements, Jake lowers baby Leo into his crib, hovering over his still sleeping son for a minute to make sure that the movement hasn’t disturbed his sleep.  Parenting was hard, and he had suitcases instead of bags building up underneath his eyes, but there was a very small possibility that maybe he was kinda nailing it.  

He can feel all of the muscles in his body cry out in relief as he slips under the sheets, melting into the softest mattress he’s ever owned (and truly, a worthy investment in many ways).

Now that he was (thankfully) back in bed, and their apartment was (also thankfully) silent, Jake shifts his position so that he can look over at his sleeping wife.  Amy has missed out on more sleep than him by far, and is still recovering from what had happened only a month ago, but still she manages to look so crazily beautiful in her sleep that Jake cannot stop the smile that breaks out over his face.  

She has always managed to amaze Jake; and challenge him in ways that he’d never expected, but if there was anything to be taken from the last nine months, it was that there could never be anybody quite like Amy Santiago.

The memories of all that has passed wash over Jake as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from Amy’s face, and as she lets out a soft sigh in response he shuffles just that little bit closer.  

One day, he’ll be able to tell her about all the different Amy’s he met during her pregnancy.   But, for now, he’s happy to have it live in his memories.  

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Finishing the Story

Sorry to leave it off there. It was Lan Zhan at my door. I didn’t even check if I’d missed any texts or something or if he just showed up. 

Fair is fair I suppose. I did the same to him after all. 

I think everyone is afraid to leave me alone.

Also fair considering my history. 

Lan Zhan showed up at my apartment. We went to work together the next day and Nie Huaisang kidnapped me right away after work and I spent the night at his place. And the day after Wen Ning did the same thing. 

They don’t want to leave me alone. But I can’t just keep depending on everyone. I don’t need to be a burden to them and I don’t need their pity either. 

I’m home alone now. Haven’t had a spare moment to update since I’m always being monitored. I finally got out of it by telling everyone I had plans with someone else instead. Now I can just be here in the peace and quiet. 

I need to learn how to be okay without having to drag everyone else into babysitting duty. 

I’m determined. 

I will be okay on my own. 

I started to slip so I’m picking up the story again. 

For what it’s worth, the rest of the story from where I left off wasn’t so bad. 

Okay so let’s see where was I. 

Ah yeah. Lan Xichen.

Lan Zhan had just tied my hair back in what was undoubtedly the cleanest half-pony that has ever graced my head when we were interrupted quite suddenly by Lan Xichen’s voice from down the hall. 

Do Lans have a habit of just showing up places? Is that a family trait? 

Well whatever. He was just kinda there all of a sudden. 

Lan Zhan started to get up. To move away. To leave me alone again. I don’t really remember moving. Just I know that my hand was suddenly gripping his arm so tight to keep him close to me. As soon as I realized it, I let him go and tried to laugh it off with an apology. 

That was ridiculous. I can’t keep Lan Zhan with me 24/7. 

I have to learn to be okay on my own again. 

He moved towards me when the devil appeared in the threshold. 

I should stop calling Lan Xichen the devil. He’s nothing like a devil and it isn’t nice. 

I don’t know. I’m being facetious but I shouldn’t do that at the expense of others. 

I don’t mean anything by it. Lan Xichen is very nice. 

As he felt compelled to demonstrate that day. 

He apologized (without looking remotely sorry) for interrupting and then asked if I was okay. 

I’d forgotten that he’d been witness to my spectacle. Doubtless he’ll have told Lan Zhan all the dirty details by now, though I’m sure he’ll be kinder on my part than I deserve.

I forced a smile and assured him I was doing just fine. 

I need to do fine.

I need everyone to believe I’m fine. 

He glanced at Lan Zhan, then smiled brightly at me and declared we were all going shopping….

For some reason…

Because that makes sense…

Sure why not. 

He grabbed my arm and literally dragged me out of bed. 

I was still miserable but at least he managed to pique my curiosity a bit. That’s something I guess. 

I decided to go along with it. Not like I had anything better to do.

He drove us to the mall and dragged us into an electronic store. I lamented over an expensive drawing tablet that I’d been wanting for a while (which had decided to somehow become even MORE expensive. Aren’t electronics supposed to get LESS expensive?) while Lan Xichen went to a clerk to buy something or other. I wasn’t really paying too close attention. I’d pulled Lan Zhan with me because I still couldn’t bring myself to be alone even though we were at the mall and there were people everywhere. 

He asked me about the tablet and then asked why I didn’t just buy it with the birthday money. Accidentally let slip that I was putting it all away for A-Yuan. He deserves it much more than I do. That kid will make something of himself one day and there really isn’t much else I can do for him. I’m not a good influence. I can’t teach him anything. But I can at least do that.

Even that is through others though. 

Guess I’m pretty useless on my own.

I already knew that though. 

Anyway. Thought I was gonna be able to get it soon. Ends up I was gonna have to spend it on a phone instead. Or something

Well that’s what i thought. 

Until Lan Xichen shoved a new phone under my nose and all but forced me to take it. 

Man I must really seem pathetic. Even Lan Xichen is taking pity on me. 

He apparently added me to his plan. Unlimited data. Said it didn’t really cost anything and not to worry about it. 

More red for my ledger. 

But it’s how I’m able to post this now. Using my phone as a hotspot to have internet in my shitty ass apartment. 

This phone is more than I deserve though. It’s too fancy. 

Maybe I can trade it in for a less expensive model and pay him back the difference. 

He told me I don’t owe him anything. 

What nonsense. 

No one gives people things for nothing. Especially people you barely know. 

So I’m friends with his little brother? He should be chasing me off for being so bothersome, not giving me phones. 

I’m sure I’m a bad influence. 

I’m sure he’d be better without having to fuss over me all the time. 

How many times have I inconvenienced him now?

How many more times will I inconvenience him?

How long before I inconvenience him one too many times?

………

I’m gonna text him. Tell him it’s okay if he’d rather not hang out tomorrow. He’s probably seen more than enough of me this week already and moping me isn’t the most fun to hang out with anyway. 

Hold on.

……..

Okay I texted him.

Lan Xichen told me I was part of the family. 

I’ve done nothing to earn that. They don’t have to force themselves to be nice to me. They don’t have to take it that far. I have nothing to give them. Nothing to offer. There’s no point for them to make me ‘part of the family.’

And I’m not going to let myself fall into that trap again. 

I don’t need to have a family. It’s okay for me to be on my own. That way when people are tired of me they don’t have to feel bad. That way when I become too much they can just send me home. 

That way it won’t hurt as bad. 

Oh Lan Zhan texted back. 

Hold on…

……….

Ugh. He’s pulling the ‘don’t you want to see me?’ card. 

Of course I want to see you, Lan Zhan. But you don’t have to push yourself to see me just because I’m depressed. 

I’m always depressed. 

It’s fine. 

Ugh. He’s not letting it go. Fine. He can be miserable with me. Hold on again. Gotta text him back.

I told him I’d come over but he has to promise to kick me out when he gets tired of me.

He won’t, of course, because he’s too nice. 

Tells me I’m not a bother. Because he’s too nice. 

He’ll get tired of me eventually. Maybe this’ll just speed everything up and we can rip off that bandage. 

Maybe I should just rip off all the bandages. 

I don’t have to worry about being a bother if there’s no one to bother. 

Maybe I should just look for a new city. Start over again and just learn to keep to myself for once. Without hanging on people. Without annoying them or demanding their attention so selfishly. 

Just find some job somewhere and work enough to pay for a new shitty apartment. 

I’m sure everyone’d be better off. 

Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have to worry about his reputation and his mother would finally be happy.

Shijie wouldn’t have to fuss over me and I wouldn’t be around to be a bad influence on her children. 

The Wens wouldn’t have to fuss over me. Telling me to take care of myself. 

Lan Zhan won’t have to waste his time and pity on someone so worthless. He can just go off and live his best life without me hanging all over him.

Maybe I should start looking. I think I will. 

I’ll use this phone Lan Xichen gave me to help look at places and then I’ll give it back before I leave. I do still have some money saved up. I’ll give him some of that too to pay it back. 

And then they won’t have to worry about me and I won’t owe anyone anything anymore

Because the best thing I can do to pay them all back is to just disappear. 

I want to disappear. 

I’m going to disappear. 

Sorry… that was a tangent. 

Don’t worry. I’ll still post here when I find somewhere new. You all can leave whenever you want to so we’re good there. And if you all decide to stop following all the more power to you. A diary is a diary even if no one reads it. 

Yeah… so Xichen took us to a couple other places and then he dropped us back off at Lan Zhan’s. 

Lan Zhan made food again and I played with the bunnies some. He held me more often than usual and kept kissing my cheek. 

Guess he was worried. 

That’s all I do. Make people worry. Annoy them. Bother them. 

I’m gonna start looking for a new place as soon as I post this. 

Lan Zhan had had to go to work at some point and left me alone in his apartment. I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want him to keep fussing over me. He has other obligations in his life way more important than I am. So I left.

Sent him a text with this new phone so he at least knew where I was. 

Should have lied and said something other than that I’d gone home. Because he ended up coming here and wasting another day on me. 

And now he’s planning on wasting his Saturday on me too. 

I’ve made people waste more than enough time on me already. 

I’m tired of this.

I’m…. just tired.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #286

“has he lost his mind? can he see or is he blind? can he walk at all, or if he moves, will he fall?”

Do you prefer having carpets or hardwood floors? Hardwood floors. Easier to clean and just looks better imo. When was the last time you took a bath? Is this something you do often or do you prefer taking showers? Not since I was a kid, probably. I don't like baths; it feels dirty. What’s your favorite way to style your hair? Do you do this hairstyle often or is it too much hassle for you? "I can’t style it any way." <<<< Mine is too short, too. Do you have a real or artificial tree at Christmas? We always use artificial. The mess isn't worth it. What’s your favourite snack to make when you watch a movie? Popcorn, of course. Do you prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones? The Rolling Stones. The only Beatles' song off the top of my head that I enjoy is "Hey, Jude," while there's a handful of Stones' songs I like. When was the last time you played a game of Monopoly? Did you play until the end or did everyone get fed up and start arguing? I'm pretty sure the last time was the PlayStation version at Jason's house. I don't recall if we finished it or not. Have you ever won money on a scratch card or the lottery? How much did you win and what did you spend it on? Maybe like, $10 or so? Mom or Dad would buy one for the hell of it rarely, and they always let us kids scratch it off because we thought it was fun for whatever reason. Have you been on a plane before? Where was the last place you travelled to? Yeah, multiple times. I went to Illinois last to stay with Sara for a couple weeks. Would you rather do a wordsearch or a crossword? Wordsearch. What’s your favorite colour of skittles? Red, duh. I always save those for last. Do you have a favorite TV detective (eg. Sherlock, Poirot)? What is it that you like about them? Does Dean Winchester count? I loved him when I was into Supernatural. He was so charismatic, funny, a wonderful big brother, and don't forget hot as fuck lmao. Were you ever in any positions of responsibility when you were in school? No. Do you need to wear glasses or contacts? How long have you needed to wear those for? I'd had glasses since high school. I'm blind as a mf. Do you talk in your sleep? Yes. Ocean or pool? Pool. Cleaner and less risk. I'll swim in either, though. What's your favorite song at the moment? "DEGRADE" by "3TEETH." I've been hooked on them lately. Ever met anyone famous? No. Do you feel that you've had a truly successful life? *blinks* Have you been in love? Absolutely. Where do you wish you were? Sara's would be great. Last thing you spent lots of money on? My Markiplier tattoo. Favorite restaurant? Olive Garden. What is your favorite kind of car? I really dunno. I don't know almost any car by name. I like slick-looking ones, though. AKA expensive ones lmao. What would you honestly do if you had a million dollars? Pay off a lot of things, first of all. For both myself and Mom. I know too well I'd spend a good deal on tats, but I'm quite sure I'd be disciplined enough to know what's more important. Are you more of a shy or outgoing person? I am VERY shy. Would you rather listen to new music or the classics? I tend to listen to music I already know. I go hunting for new bands and songs too rarely... Can you do a cartwheel? lol hell no Do you currently feel any sadness? I always do. Do you always respond to chain letters? I literally never do. I don't care what it's about. They're annoying. Do you spend too much time online? My life is online. It's depressing, and very. I usually don't know what to do with myself if I don't have access to it. What is your biggest annoyance? Right now, people not complying to COVID restrictions to help end this madness. Are you currently in a relationship? No. What do you like to do for fun? Watch YouTube, play WoW, write, read, take pictures... Not a lot. I've been stuck with anhedonia for years; not a lot of things give me any sort of pleasure, even the aforementioned things sometimes. Can you type without looking at the keyboard? Yeah. Do you ever feel like people use you? I've sure as shit felt it before. What role does religion play in your life? None. It's honestly a place of bitterness. Can you sleep with your eyes open? Noooooooo, that shit creeps me out. How often (if ever) do you use moisturiser? Pretty much never... but I need to considering my skin is dry as the Sahara. Have you had any of your wisdom teeth removed? What was the reason? (eg. infection, impaction, lack of space). No. What was the reason for your last hospital visit? I visited Mom after her surgery. Do you use a laptop, desktop, tablet or phone to take your surveys? Laptop. Do you have any debt? If so, are you on top of paying it all back? College debt, for sure. I dropped out three different times. No, I'm nowhere near on top of it. How often do you travel by public transport? Never. Do you have an Instagram account? If so, how often do you post on there and what kind of things do you post? I have three, haha. I don't post on any regularly enough... but I use my first one most. My "main" one is my primary photography one, and I have a second photography account for my darker/roadkill/"vulture culture" work. Lastly I made one for my pets... yes, I decided to be one of those people lmao. Are you close to your extended family? Do you wish you were closer? Definitely not, but we want to try to get closer. In Grammy's last days, she shared that she wished we were more "together" so much. Do you prefer to give your pets human names or not? Definitely not human names, at least usually. Have you ever used a fire extinguisher? Would you know how to use one without reading the instructions? No; I doubt it. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever had to deal with at your job? When I worked, impatient customers. What was the last thing you used your mobile phone for? Listening to music. While my laptop is kaput, I'm using an old one, but it's super slow so I'm just using my phone for music and videos. Did you used to play The Sims? What version or expansion pack was your favorite one to play? I loved the animals one; I went through a period of playing that a loooot. There was also an African wildlife one that I had, but that one was pretty boring, honestly. I never got into the human ones. What quality do you value most highly in others? Probably compassion. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? Mom. What was your best find from a flea market, garage sale, ebay or thrift? I got an AWESOME shipwreck w/ a sea serpent nightlight from the flea market once. What is one selfish thing you tend to do? Uhhhh I'm unsure. I try not to be selfish. Have you ever written a letter to a soldier? No, but man does this make me think of "Travelin' Soldier." I love that song so much, man. Always have. What do you use batteries for the most often? Ha, it used to be my mouse, but now that I have one that plugs up to the computer to charge, idk. What’s the smallest thing you’ve ended a relationship over? "I don’t think I’ve ended any kind of relationship over something small." <<<< Would you rather order a starter (appetiser) or a dessert? Or would you be able to manage a full three courses? It really depends on what I want and how hungry I am. If I had the first two though, I almost certainly couldn't handle a dessert. Have you or a member of your family been diagnosed with COVID yet? My older sister had it very badly to the point she wound up in the ER. It's no fucking joke. Aside from the necessities (eating, breathing etc.) what is something you do every single day, without fail? I was going to say “get on the computer” or something of the sort, but what if I don’t have access to technology that day for whatever reason? In that case, I’d think of Jason to some point. There isn’t a day that passes when he’s not lurking in my head somewhere. Is there anything you enjoy that’s considered childish for your age? What is it? Roleplaying. Some shows. I’m sure there’s plenty others. How many times a day do you use the bathroom? A LOT. If I’m drinking something, a lot of the time, I almost immediately have to go pee after a single sip. Do you need caffeine to wake up in the morning? What’s your drink of choice? I wouldn’t say I NEED it, no. I do regularly have my Mountain Dew in the morning in place of coffee tho lmao. That’s out of habit, though. Do you live somewhere with lots of livestock or wild animals? Livestock, absolutely. Wild animals, sure, so long you’re not right in a city. Well, even then, roadkill isn’t rare. Would you rather live somewhere rural or urban? RURAL. Mom and I are both having trouble adjusting to living in the suburbs. The only good thing is we’re closer to everything. Is there anything (a hobby, for example) that’s guaranteed to always make you feel better when you’ve had a bad day? Not absolutely without fail. If you’re struggling with your mental health, who are you most likely to open up to, or would you bottle it up instead? I VERY rarely bottle it up. That is so unhealthy. I confide in my mom, usually. What room of your house do you spend the most time in? Is this through choice or necessity? Ugh, my bedroom… but yeah, it’s choice. I COULD be in the kitchen or living room on the laptop, I just don’t want to for privacy’s sake. I’m waiting for the extra bedroom to be cleaned out to turn that into like my “dayroom” or “office.” I’m putting a desk in there, lots of motivational stuff, just things to inspire me to work. I NEED away from my bed. I only want to use it to sleep. If you have pets, do you snuggle with them when you’re having a bad time? Does it make you feel better? Well, it’s hard to “snuggle” with a snake, but I’ll still take her out sometimes and she gets comfortable against me for warmth. I do however definitely snuggle with my cat Roman, because he’s a total cuddlebug and super affectionate with me. How would you rate Stephen King as a writer? Shockingly, I haven’t read a novel by him. However, knowing stories he’s written and his genre, I think I’d absolutely love him. What movie are you looking forward to? Oh goodness, I have no idea. I’m totally out of touch with movies. Have you been to see an opera? No, they don’t appeal to me. What do you wish that you knew with more certainty? My career success. Of the following things, which would you most like to have more of? Drink, dreams, bed, drugs, lust, lies, hate, love, fear, fun, pain, flesh, stars, smiles, fame, sex: Love, of course. Would you ever consider working for the government? Absolutely not. What are the best and worst television channels? I don’t need to even watch television to tell you Discovery is best. Idk about worst. If you had a magical pencil and everything you drew became real what would you draw? Hm… if I drew like, Earth overlayed with a peace symbol, would that cause world peace? What would you like to touch? A wild (well, habituated) meerkat. Meerkats are just… so important in my life. Without them, I wouldn’t have met people who’ve greatly affected and even changed my life. I know the day I (hopefully) hold or pet one will be one where I cry. Does anything you own glow in the dark? I don’t know. Would you rather ride a dragon or a unicorn? Who the hell would answer “unicorn” to this???? Dragons are so so so superior. Can you make a balloon animal? No. How many glasses of water do you drink each day? Rarely more than two, if even that. What do you like in a poem, accessibility, crypticness, or something in between? I guess of these options, leaving some cryptic space, room for the reader to imagine. What I cherish most in poetry though is descriptiveness, but not to an excessive point where it’s just hard to understand. Who do you find yourself in constant conflict with? Why the conflict? MYSELF. I’m just so mad at and disappointed with myself. What subjects do you refuse to talk about? Why are you hiding from them? I mean, none, really. With some people I’m willing to talk about whatever topic. Greatest black and white film: Idk, I can’t recall enough. Greatest film three hours or longer: Troy. I adore that movie. I should watch it again…

[polygamyff]

40. Part 3

“Robyn, hey. My beautiful wife come on now. Wake up for me” scrunching my face up, I can feel the pounding of my head “Robyn, come on. It’s like two in the afternoon now, I got some water for you. Come on” opening my eyes slowly “don’t worry, I kept the blinds shut, just sit up for me” I groaned out closing my eyes again “dried up saliva all on the face, come up. Sit up” lifting my head up and then my head fell back on the pillow, opening my eyes slowly “hey” Leon is all in my face, I groaned out again “I know, Jacob does the same. Morning sleepy head come on. I got some water for you, drink up so you can get out of bed, I made you some food too” this is going to be painful, rubbing my eyes “don’t worry, I removed your makeup for you while you was asleep. I did the best I could for you” that made me smile, shuffling up in the bed “this is horrible Leon” I whined out, I want to cry now. Resting my back against the headrest, stifling out a yawn and then touching myself “what is this?” who’s sweatshirt am I wearing “oh please tell me I didn’t?” my eyes all wide “no, this is Jacob’ top, I changed you. It’s me duh, you know I always do that for you. I wouldn’t let you shame yourself like that, even though you punched me, anyways. Drink up” Leon picked up the glass from the side “thank you” taking the glass “then I want you to pee, come out. Eat and have some painkillers, cure this for yourself and then we need to talk” I actually need this water right now, the water touched my dessert dry mouth. I feel like I am watering myself, I can’t stop drinking “I knew you needed that, so you can wear this. Jacob don’t mind and yeah, come out. We are waiting for you; did you have a good time?” I feel so good, I feel watered. Looking at the glass, I near drank the whole glass “I am feeling happy, thank you. It was good” Leon took the glass from me “I am glad you had fun, also do you remember anything major, yes or no?” squinting my eyes at him “we went Playhouse” I said, Leon nodded his head “that is a start anyways, come on and get out of bed. We all want to go out again later” staring at Leon as he made his way out of the room, he said he wants to go out again but where exactly is this.

I feel like I should be ashamed, I don’t know why. I look a right state, the only thing I have done is flatten my hair down, but I need to leave this bathroom now. I am glad I didn’t wake up wanting to be sick, thank you Jesus. Opening the bathroom door and stepping out, so I am in an apartment. It’s a cute one too actually, very open planned. Looking down as I slowly made my way down the steps, ever so slowly “morning!!” Jacob shouted, I laughed shaking my head “stop it” I mumbled, let me just walk down the steps ever so slowly. I do not want to fall down these steps so let me just walk “nice to see you awake now boo” my head is pounding and them talking is not helping “I feel like I should be ashamed” I said, making my way to where Jacob is “no, over here. You need to eat, come on. To the bar stool, don’t she look nice in your top” Leon said, Leon is being a troll I look awful “she does, it’s been a while since I seen such nice legs, and yours of course Asia but it’s nice to see a different pair” Leon had really made me breakfast, I mean I don’t know if I can eat “come on sit” placing my hands on the side as I sat on the stool “this doesn’t smell right” I complained “try the toast first, come on. Eat, so you can have some tablets and we can move on from this” Leon is treating me like a child, maybe I am a child.

That felt painful to eat, I did it though. Sitting down on the couch “nice of you to join us Robyn” Jacob said “this was on Leon, he dragged me out of bed, or I would be asleep still. Did I ruin y’all day? Sorry if I did” Asia laughed “you didn’t, honestly it was a great night. It was fun, I was a little tipsy. Jacob told me I wanted to take the Uber driver home with me” I laughed; I knew the shit wasn’t funny but yet I was still laughing “am I drunks still but did you take him home?” I asked “drunks still? Girl, you must be” Asia said “I woke up and thought I sept with a man because I saw this top, honestly, I near died but then Leon dressed me. Thank you to my husband” Asia and Jacob both laughed “girl, you love some dick don’t you or should I say dike” placing my hand over my forehead “don’t, I have a heard so please don’t come to me with shit I have done wrong” Leon finally sat down across from me “I want you to get better” Leon said “also girl, you done waxed?” I laughed out “stop it, you know why that happened. I did for my wedding night” I rolled my eyes “it’s pretty and excuse me, why did you see that?” I asked “you took your thong off and flung it to me” Leon said as Asia gasped “wedding night? Are you married?” she asked “this would have been my wedding night, I was going to get married, but it didn’t happen” I shrugged “you know the dike thing, the guy she was texting. Him” Leon said, “texting whom?” I retorted “oh chile, you are funny. Like oh my god, we need to talk, ask these guys. This was all your fault, I was being harassed to the ends of earth because of you” I am confused on this matter “I don’t get it, and Asia. I was going to get married on my birthday, but I left him, men are just trash. They want to marry you but look at other women that do not even amount to you” Asia looked at me in sadness “there is no hope for me then, honestly men like trashy women though. Why you think I am also single” least she understands “you wanted that trash dike though” Leon keeps saying this “hold up, you both keep saying dike, what the fuck?” I don’t get it.

They all are laughing at me; I don’t like this at all “first of all I have a headache and you all are laughing at me. What did I do?” I need to know because this joke is between them all and I am not involved “oh, Robyn. You have Odell Beckham’ address in your phone also” Asia said “I remember him coming to the club but how did that happen? How did I get his number exactly, well address?” I did more than I think “well he bought you a bottle, we got it here still in the kitchen and he said happy birthday to you, you was flirting with him mad hard and he wanted to take you back, you was playing him off which he knew but he still wanted to give you his address, didn’t he say something like you never know what could happen and Robyn said I know what you want to happen but anyways, the best of all is. You’re on Odell’ Insta story, he posted the club picture of you both” what am I even like “it’s so funny, he was like I know I am being played but I am like letting it happen, he really liked you Robyn” placing my hands over my face, this is so shameful. I cannot believe it “he really did that? Oh my god show me, oh and I think I lost my phone. I didn’t see it?” I asked Leon “that is because I have it, we need to talk!” he eyeballed me “did I do more?” Asia shuffled over to me “it’s a cute picture though, the photographer took the photo, he obviously just took it from there” Asia held her phone to me “is that even me!? Oh my god, he is cute though. Wow ok, why do I look so happy” I am in disbelief with how happy I am, I am drunk though “he got his arm around you too, but there is another picture and it’s a group picture but yeah” Leon waved my phone around “we need to speak on something” he sat back down “did I do bad?” I must have because Leon is giving me judgemental looks.

Jacob is giggling “dike app just kills me every time ok, Leon tell her. All I am going to say is your baby father harassed Leon so much” pulling a face “why is he harassing you? What does it got to do with him?” Leon sighed out “so in your state, you text Maurice. You said to him dick appointment but on the text, it says dike app which is was we keep laughing at it” I gasped “no! Fuck, why did I do that? No!” I am so fucking annoying “he was like what, he didn’t get it and then you said something like dick appointment dick, we meet and that you hated him. So what you wanted was dick, you was in search of sex, you was so freaky Robyn” Leon said, Jacob laughed “all I kept hearing was I am gay Robyn, shut up” Leon side eyed Jacob “you stressed me out, you have never been so freaky with me like that anyways so you wanted dick, like for real you did Robyn, so he is texting are you ok and whatever but you are ignoring him laughing to yourself, so I text him saying you are fine. He called, so me and him go at it, Robyn I mentioned the name Jacob, oh he thought I got you with some man to have sex with, I was like he is gay, I fuck Jacob leave me alone. Then you were hiking your damn dress, I said stop I seen your pussy, he was shouting in my ear. So, I just ended it, he called you eleven times, the missed calls anyways, I ignored it, so I got you in bed. You fell asleep after you did a lot. He called again, I picked up, Maurice was angry he was acting like you was having sex I was like grow up, he was getting at me, like I put him on speaker, he was saying so much and I goes you know what facetime me, he did and I had to show him you in bed, he apologised but I goes she text you drunk, leave it as that she is fine. But he was very much saying shall he come, I said no but that was it, I am not sure if he did that or just left it as that” I want the ground to swallow me up, I am in shock. I am disgusted with myself right now “we all do stupid things” Asia said “but I don’t want to give him attention and I did” I am angry at myself.

Leon has given me my phone back, but I am not looking at it, I have many comments and followers now and it’s like I don’t see why “ok I am over it, it happened now. I just need to not text him again” Jacob scoffed “girl, if you were to get dick, get it from your ex. Best dick on earth, I say that. Sleep with the man you know, if you are needing it then you tell him, your inner whore wanted him” Jacob is right I guess “ugh, what a mess though. I don’t know, I shouldn’t have done it, to text him” I blew out air “anyways, are we drinking again tonight. I think I need to get drunk again” I pouted, I just feel like I preferred the drunk Robyn “we’re not exactly getting drunk, we are going on a road trip too. Drum roll please!” Asia said, Jacob did the drum roll “Vegas, we are staying there for one night. But if you do decide to get drunk then that is on you, but we are going to Vegas for one night, Leon is treating” I cooed out “we going Vegas? Ok I am here for that” my phone pinged, lifting my phone up, my face softened as I unlocked my phone.

From: Dad

To: Robyn

Happy Belated Birthday! I was nervous texting this to you because of everything but I have never forgotten a birthday of yours, I didn’t forget this one either! I hope you, your mother and Reign have a lovely time together, I am sorry for everything, but I do miss you and i wish I was a man about it all but you will always be my daughter. I have had time to reflect and I shouldn’t have bought you into it and for that I am sorry, I still think about how heartbroken you are. To me, you are always my daughter, I wish I could change the fact you found out. One day we will meet and talk about it and one day we will have that trip to New Zealand like we spoke on xx

I locked my phone, not something I wanted to see but also, I never changed his name to Thomas. Dad, do I have a dad. I am not sure after everything that has happened, I don’t want to think about that “anyways, I need to get drunk again” getting up from the couch.

Nalah thinks any of this is funny, it’s really not. How does she find the fact Robyn is prancing around hiking her dress up funny, I now Robyn is awake now and she is not answering me at all “are you still annoyed? Maurice, it happens, she was celebrating her birthday and she thought of you. Why are you sat there angry? I don’t get it at all, she texts you about dick and now it’s over with. Leon told you now get over it. Dad is meeting us for a meal, so can you dress Reign. Wait till I tell Robyn your refusal to dress Reign and let her sit in her diaper all day” Nalah is annoying “but she likes it, do you know how annoying it is dressing her and then undressing her, she is happy. Look at her” looking over at Reign “you are showing us them rolls” grabbing her foot, Reign looked at my hand “you are so cute, so Nalah said we have to dress you. What we thinking momma? Chanel? Fendi? Burberry?” picking her up “I think we will put your best on, we will put Fendi on you” getting up from the couch “oh wow, look at Robyn meeting other people” glaring over at Nalah “what?” Nalah held her phone to her chest “show me!?” what is she even hiding it for “she met Odell Beckham” Nalah grinned “he can’t even play football, that is wack but show me” fixing Reign in my arms “once you dress Reign and do her hair, I know Reign kept you up last night and you all tired but you need to make the effort Maurice. I am only here to watch over you, this is your daughter” mean mugging Nalah “show me Robyn” I don’t want to hear a lecture at all, Nalah turned her phone to me “he has a big jaw, he is ugly. Like I don’t get it” he is so ugly, Nalah laughed. Robyn looks so pretty though, Reign pointed at Nalah’ phone “aww you seen mommy” Nalah said “is there anything else?” I asked, I didn’t see any of this “erm, she has been tagged in some others” Nalah looked back at her phone “you missing mommy? So, am I” I feel like Reign is not settling with me or is it me, I am not sure “here” Nalah turned the phone to me “Damon!? That nigga likes her! This is wack, fuck this shit” walking off to the bedroom, l am not happy at all.

Reign whined out “what? Look, I am trying, I am here trying to do pigtails” moving back from the bed “Reign, Mi Amor!” she looked up at me, she is all teary eyed because I was doing her hair “I preferred it when you getting bald, catching an attitude with me” shaking my head “tonight, I will have her ok. You just have some sleep” Nalah said, looking behind “I am fine, I don’t need you” how annoying “you didn’t sleep well last night Maurice, you’re becoming annoyed with Reign and then this Robyn thing is upsetting you. Just let me have her so you can sleep, you need your rest too ok?” nodding my head “you’re not well, don’t forget that. Just enjoy Reign while she is here, whatever Robyn is doing she is just having a good time and at the end of the day she text you, nobody else. She did ask about Reign just a few minutes ago” so she didn’t message me back “and what did you say?” I asked “I said she is ok, she said that she is going Vegas for a night” I scoffed “I wonder what other man she will pull or take pictures with; I don’t want it. I just want her with me, I fucked up” she seems so happy in the pictures too “that is something you need to figure out, I will get the SUV around” nodding my head.

Walking inside the restaurant behind Nalah, my dad got up straight away. It was like the queen came to see him, he wasn’t even looking at Nalah, he is so excited to see Reign but with the way I feel he can have her right now “good to see you Nalah, Maurice and look at her, the apple of my eye you have grown. Come here, come to your old grandpapi” my dad took Reign from me “oh I have I missed you so much, no facetime no nothing Reign. Your grandma has been asking about you haven’t you” sitting down in a huff “my little Reign, how you sweetie” look at these two just gushing over Reign “mi Reina, I love you so much” my dad sat down with Reign “how are you son? You look tired?” my mom said, nodding my head “I am tired” she got that right “how come she let you have this little angel?” my dad asked “it’s her birthday and I asked, she said I can have her for this weekend but looks like she is having too much fun now, so yeah I got her” my dad is still a little sore with me “I forgot to text Robyn, it was her birthday. Well I hope she had a good time, because we are. We have you” Reign grabbed the spoon on the table, she will grab anything now “oh no, you will hurt yourself now. Let’s not do that” Robyn is going Vegas, a place I was going too. Men are looking at Robyn, they want her, and I fucked that up.

I have alerts on when Robyn posts anything and well, she posted a picture of her and Odell, the very same picture Odell put up. I mean I am not jealous of a nigga with a big jaw, I really don’t care because I mean look at him. He has his health, he has money and is showing Robyn interest and I had that “staring at the picture will not make it any better, are you stalking his page?” Nalah said “no, Robyn put it up” I scrolled up, Nalah let out an oh “wait go back down” Nalah snatched my phone from me, frowning at her as I watched what she did, peeping what Nalah is looking at “Odell commented on her post” frowning at the comment “imagine seeing you here, why did he put that?” I looked at Nalah “she replied back, she put stalker much?” that is Robyn all over, smart ass mouth “and he put look in the notes and that is it” snatching my phone from Nalah “we didn’t come here for this business Maurice, I wanted a family meal with my kids and grandchild, what is wrong with you? Put your phone down” I am thirty and my dad speaks to me like this “what?” locking my phone “what are you doing?” he asked “nothing, are we done here? I want to go back now?” we ate, I want to go now “not exactly Maurice, I want to know you’re making the right steps for Reign. So she goes back when?” he asked “Monday she flys back” my dad nodded his head “you offer that home to Robyn, you need to tell Robyn that she needs to move to New York unless you don’t want to see Reign? There is one thing I won’t have and is to not know Reign and to know she is not around because of your stupidness, you ruined her home now you make it better” rolling my eyes, I don’t need my dad on my case “her mother is out, what you want me to do?” I shook my head “and that bothers you, so when do you next see Reign?” he is asking me like I know “I don’t know, look dad I am tired. I have not slept last night, she wouldn’t settle. Just let me breathe!” he is too much “that is you being a father Maurice, what else is it? It’s hard being a father” now he is annoying “what do you know about being one? I had a nanny clean my ass, you saw me once I was dressed for morning breakfast at seven, I actually do it myself. You didn’t lose sleep, did you? Don’t talk to me about it” my dad is not happy with me “but did that make you any better? You still became a crackhead, didn’t you? I gave you most my time and still you are a mess, you still make mistakes. I allowed you to get divorced to be happy and you make a mess of that, I will not allow you to personally make a mess of us seeing this child seeing as you can’t help yourself. You offer that home to Robyn, you tell her to move to New York and say to her it will be best for you both, if not then you get a home for them both in a nice area in California, then you make a schedule with Wade, I don’t care how but you should be a seeing her for a week or two, and if you can’t handle it because Nalah can’t wipe your ass too, then you get a nanny, and if I find out your making a mess of this then Maurice I will go above your head and will do something that will upset you, Joy I am sick of him” my dad is always at me now.

I can’t believe Robyn is in Vegas and look where I am, I guess who got the last laugh in this “Maurice, your dad does love you. He is upset that is all, he is worried that Robyn will end up making it hard for us to see her. He doesn’t want it to be getting messy, he really saw the good. He was just as happy as you were that you was getting married, he was so angry you came to us with the mess you created yourself” I don’t know what they wat from me “I am the one hurting, I am the one missing her. I am suffering don’t worry” my phone pinged, looking down and seeing Robyn commented thank you on my post, I mean it’s late for that “I don’t think she has written you off Maurice, she is hurting and right now she will do anything to forget that pain. Us women do that, but I think if you want real advice, I think you need to give it some time and show you are a really sorry. I wish you felt like this when you were with her, you should always feel like this with Robyn. Because honestly she did so much for you, and you can’t say she didn’t and you took it too far” Nalah said “Robyn just needed to just accept it was in my nature, I was never going to do anything with these women” I said in my defence “neither is she and how do you feel right now?” Nalah shut my ass up instantly, I had nothing else to say.

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [16/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Here’s your daily dose of JayTim and baby for your quarantine reading pleasure! Stay safe, wash your hands and support your local healthcare, waste management and retail workers!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

The rest of the afternoon is spent on the phone, fielding calls from various departments and sorting out production complications. Interspersed are texts and Facebook messages from friends and family—Dick, wondering if dinner is still happening on Friday, Bruce wanting updates on the mob case, the Titans wanting to know if he’s coming to San Francisco that weekend—

Tim is evasive with all except the last one, informing Bart that there’s some family drama going on that will keep him home for a while. Once the speedster knows, everyone else will know, so it’s about as effective as sending a group text.

He resists the urge to phone Jason and see how he’s doing; he’s rather sure he won’t pick up.

(“I ain’t a damn kid that needs checkin’ up on, Drake.”)

Not that Tim is checking up on him. He just knows that whenever someone in the family is going through a personal crisis, that’s usually the time when Gotham’s rogues decide to act out.

So really, ensuring Jason’s stress levels stay manageable is a public service.

“Because that sounds like logic,” he chides.

Damian shows up around 3 o’clock and spends the next two hours alternatively disparaging everything about Tim from his too-long hair to how he organizes his filing system, to discussing WE resource allocation for an animal shelter he wants to open. The conversational whiplash is enough to make Tim’s head spin, and he makes a note in his phone to talk to Bruce about whatever it is that’s going on between them that’s so bad Damian prefers Tim’s company to his father’s.

Either Bruce put his foot down about another of Damian’s strays, or he still won’t agree that Robin should have a private prison to lock up rogues. 

Whatever the reason, Tim is very much out of his depth at the youngest Bat’s newest tactics for taking his frustrations out on Tim.

Though I guess workplace inconveniences are a huge step up from swords to the gut. Could always be worse, I guess.

It turns out he’s not the only one learning new and interesting coping strategies. Upon arriving home at six, he finds Jason tweaking the tech in his gear on the kitchen table, baby carrier three feet away.

His entire body is tense, like a spring ready to snap.

“Was she up all day or something?” Tim asks on the way in, putting his bag on the floor and loosening his tie.

Jason shoots him a baleful look. “She’s been crying all day. And she’s still barely eating. I think she’s starting to look a little yellow—Tim, why is she yellow?”

And Jason sounds—dare he say it—almost frazzled.

Right. Time for more damage control.

“I’ve got her,” Tim says, easing into Jason’s personal space and taking the baby. “You go to sleep. Or shower. Or watch TV or something. You’re starting to go batty.”

That earns a disgusted look, and even Tim winces because that was just bad.

“Did you seriously just say that?” Jason asks.

“No, you’re sleep-deprived and hallucinated it,” he replies.

“I’ll allow it,” Jason says, yawning. “But only because it could be true.”

Jason shuffles off upstairs and Tim heaves himself onto the couch, pulling out his phone to check his usual online haunts for potential cases or clues for his current case. Social media and forums are pretty good sources once you learn how to weed out the sensationalist crap.

After thirty minutes of nothing, he gives it up and wanders over to the dwindling pile of baby items. Jason hasn’t returned yet, so he’s either passed out from exhaustion in the shower or actually made it to bed. Since Tim can’t hear the water running, he supposes it’s the latter.

It won’t kill me to go without the pre-patrol nap today, I guess.

Studying the pile, he notes that the boxes with the crib, changing table and whatever else needed assembly, have all gone missing. Presumably, Jason set those up this morning in a fit of boredom or paranoia.

The only things that haven’t been touched are the blankets, soft toys and garments, other than whatever Isa’s been changed into already.

There are only about twenty different pieces of clothing, and according to his not-so-new best friend the Internet, that’s not going to be nearly enough given infant propensity to upchuck. Especially since it’s not all the same size. Tam had to guess how big Isa was, so at least half the onesies here won’t fit her for another month or two, which isn’t supremely helpful for right now.

Back to fiddling with his phone, Tim goes online to order some more supplies and discovers, to his delight, that there’s an entire line of pop-culture related babywear. Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Superhero logos…

He grins as he orders one of everything for next-day delivery, wondering whether Jason’s more likely to complain or find it funny.

Under normal circumstances, he’d probably find it funny. For someone else’s kid.

There’s still no sign of Jason after sunset, so Tim feeds and burps the baby, then sets up his laptop and tablet in the kitchen to check some of his surveillance feeds for the mob case. However, Isa protests every time he tries to put her down.

“What’s wrong with you now?” he asks. “You’re warm, you’re fed—” He takes a pause to check and change her diaper, during which time she continues to mewl at him, “—and you’re dry. Which means now’s the time you got to sleep, okay? New babies are supposed to do three things: eat, poop and sleep. So get on that.”

Once again he attempts to wrap her up and place her in her carrier, but the whimpering becomes flat-out crying, her tiny face becoming purple with rage and her eyes pinching shut.

“Okay, okay—putting you down is a no,” he sighs, tucking her back in his arms to rock her gently. He watches his computer monitor balefully, knowing if he’s holding the baby, there’s not going to be any hacking of Gotham’s CCTV tonight.

Could text Babs and ask her to do it. Except then she’ll want to know why.

Which is also a no.

One-handed, he searches out his phone again, looking up possible reasons for Isa’s current temper and potential solutions online. One thing jumps out at him and he brightens. A quick trip to the Nest and back, and he has what he was looking for.

Which is how Jason finds him when he finally comes back downstairs around eight o’clock, showered, rested and altogether more human-looking than what Tim came home to. He pauses at the foot of the stairs, squinting at Tim. “Is that your cape?”

“My cape is made out of state-of-the-art piezoelectric fabric substrates that can become a weapon with the right electrical frequency,” Tim retorts, trying not to feel entirely self-conscious from his seat at the kitchen table, wrapped in a makeshift mei-tai with Jason’s daughter drooling into his chest. “Also, that thing’s filthy.”

“And this is…?”

“My old cape,” Tim replies, going back to his computer. “Sometimes newborns just need to hear a heartbeat to calm them down. The best way is skin to skin, but I’m kind of in the middle of something, so this is the next best thing.”

Jason tilts his head to one side in consideration. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I looked it up online.”

“Of course you did,” Jason groans, rubbing his temple. “Because that’s what normal people do. I didn’t even think of it, I was too busy trying to get her to stop crying.” He huffs, almost rueful. “Why the hell am I surprised that you’re good at this? You’re good at friggen everything.”

Huh. A compliment. Those are almost as rare coming from Jason as they are from Damian. He must really be out of his comfort zone.

“Maybe it’s just because I have a certain measure of distance from it all,” Tim suggests, standing up to leave his temporary workstation. “If I suddenly found out I had a kid, I don’t know how I’d react.”

“Bull. You’re just like B. You’d just stick it in the back of your mind and forget about how to feel about it until you’re ready to deal.”

Tim feels a sudden flare of anger. “Is that actually how you think I am?”

“You going to tell me you’re not?” Jason challenges.

Tim opens his mouth to do exactly that, only to wrinkle his nose at the sudden stench arising from the lump of baby tucked against his chest.

“Ugh. Someone needs a change.”

Again. Guess I wasn’t so far off about the ‘eat, poop and sleep’ thing.

Jason snorts. “As far as conversation enders, that’s a pretty good one.”

Tim carefully unwinds the fabric from around his body and deposits the slowly waking baby into her father’s arms. “Tag.”

“You suck.”

“Serves you right for being a dick.”

He feels almost no guilt leaving Jason to deal with the soiled diaper and cranky baby this time, still smarting a bit about the resentful accusation that was lobbed at him.

Just because I can compartmentalize doesn’t mean I forget about things. Or that I don’t feel them.

He’s just not like Jason, or Dick, or Damian, who get angry and lash out as loudly and as viciously as they can. And he’s not like Bruce, either, since Bruce really can flip a switch and put something difficult out of his mind if it interferes with the all-important Mission.

Tim’s tried doing that, and as successful as he was in his quest to locate Batman when he was lost in the time stream, that period of Tim’s life was the most desperate and hopeless he’s ever felt. It was painful in a way that was different from losing his father, or Connor, or Bart—mostly because he was forced to bottle everything up to get the job done.

It was months after Bruce returned before Tim started processing things normally again.

Not that I should expect Jason to know that, he muses as he grapples through the rooftops of Gotham. He might know about me from my files and when we occasionally work together, but he’s never stuck around long enough to get to know anyone who came after him.

The night is at its darkest, cut through only by the Bat-signal in the distance. He won’t be running into Bruce tonight then unless the GCPD is bringing him in on the Gazzo case. It’s unlikely since there hasn’t been any retaliation yet. GCPD protocol dictates they’ll pass it off to Homicide until orders from on high turn it over to Major Crimes.

Red Robin ends up stopping two muggings and a drug deal before making his way to Gazzo territory to take some surveillance photos of his own. Security images are helpful in general, but he has camera tech that will let him focus on details the CCTV won’t pick up. 

It’s another relatively early night for him, returning home just after midnight to upload his findings to the servers and shower off the grit and grime of the city.

The apartment is silent, and he expects Jason and Isa to be upstairs in the newly built nursery, but upon closing the secret door again, he notices the faint sound of breathing. Creeping over to the sitting room, he finds Jason passed out on the couch beside Isa’s carrier. The television is on but not showing any channel, instead casting a solid blue light across the room.

Tim can’t help noticing how Jason’s habitual frown has eased in slumber. There’s no trace of a sneer or growl on his lips right now, his mouth parted only to breathe.

He has never seen the older man like this.

There are pictures of him at the manor, of course, most of them hidden away in dusty boxes. It’s only recently they’ve started cropping up at the manor again, though Tim isn’t sure whether it’s Dick or Alfred that’s been putting them there.

Hell, maybe it is Bruce. It’s the exact kind of gesture he’d make to try to tell Jason he wants him around more, without actually having to tell him directly.

Whoever’s responsible for them, Tim’s memorized all of those photos. The boy in those is always grinning or making silly faces or not paying attention to the photographer because he’s busy doing something he shouldn’t be.

If there’s a picture of Jason looking so calm and peaceful, it’s hidden away in Bruce’s personal files where no one can find them.

Tim can sort of see why given how vulnerable his predecessor looks right now. This is the Jason that Bruce remembers, the one he’s built up in his memory that’s different from the Jason once enshrined in the much-maligned class case in the Cave. This is the Jason Bruce is trying to find whenever he squares off with Red Hood and mourns as lost when he can’t find him.

Which is stupid since he’s still right here. I wonder if anyone else will ever realize that?

Tim decides not to wake Jason; he might have been a jerk before, but he should sleep while he can.

Instead, he settles in on the other couch with his laptop to review the surveillance shots he took himself and from the security feeds. If he can figure out just which of these mobster muscle heads is the easiest to break, he can get a better idea of what might have happened to the teenager in concrete.

I’ll just do a quick scan tonight, and study them in more detail tomorrow.

Of course, as usual, he gets invested in his work and doesn’t look up again until about four o’clock, when Isa’s sharp cry pieces the silence. Tim jumps, having completely forgotten her presence, but that’s nothing on Jason, who vaults upward from his spot on the couch, body tense and prepared to react to whatever caused the noise, friend or foe.

His hand is already reaching for a gun—one that Tim is thankful to see is no longer there.

“It’s okay, it’s just time for the next feeding,” he says quietly, trying to sound both casual and soothing at the same time. Based on the bleary look he’s getting from Jason, he’s less than successful.

Jason glares at his empty hand, clenched as if to hold onto something, and Tim must be on the verge of falling asleep himself because for a moment he imagines he can see the outline of a sword.

Great. Hallucinations. Tomorrow’s going to be a triple-shot of espresso day, I can tell.

And it’s suddenly occurring to him that babies and their sudden loud noise-making skills might not be the best thing for someone that’s suffered the kinds of trauma Jason has.

He makes up a mental note to look up some strategies for that. He’s not quite sure how he’ll bring up the subject with Jason. While Jason is adamant that Tim’s the most like Bruce, when it comes to avoiding problems, he’s the one that has more in common with the man.

For now, he decides to just act as normal.

“You know there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs?” he quips. “Thousand thread count, fluffy pillows, solid mattress…”

“Shut up. I was watching something. Guess I fell asleep.” Jason swings around and makes a move toward the baby, but Tim makes a motion to stop him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.”

“You already took her when you got back.”

“How do you know? You were sleeping?”

“I was resting my eyes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Go to sleep or you’ll be face-planting in your coffee tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine, I—"

“This isn’t your responsibility, Replacement. Go to bed—I’ll handle this.”

Jason is clearly not someone to be reasoned with when sleep-deprived; Tim always suspected that, of course, but he’s never had the up-close-and-personal experience. It doesn’t make him any less frustrated.

“The whole point of you staying here is for me to help,” he reminds him. “So would you just accept it already?”

“You’re also the one with a nine-to-five job and actually need the friggen sleep.”

Tim grimaces. “Fine. But I’m going to make up a schedule for us tomorrow so we can divide the babysitting more equitably.”

“You do that, boy scout. Why don’t you make a chore-wheel while you’re at it?” Jason jeers, taking the baby and heading for the kitchen. “This isn’t kindergarten.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tim shoots back, scowling in frustration.

Just for that, I will make one. See if I don’t.

⁂⁂⁂

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

Next Chapter