#why just one of those and why didn't i was born earlier enough to see him with my own eyes

[hooked-on-elvis]

[writing-mlm]

Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?

(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)

Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]

Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing

Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option. 

Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours. 

You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot. 

Until you saw Damian Wayne. 

He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right. 

You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you. 

Until it did. 

The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around. 

And his name was above yours. 

You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal. 

“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out. 

“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom. 

You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you. 

You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help. 

Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself. 

“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier. 

“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics. 

He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year. 

A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity. 

Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself? 

As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken. 

You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that. 

Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in. 

“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class. 

—

Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of

solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school. 

It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus. 

You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months. 

Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family. 

Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford. 

Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you. 

But he doesn’t say anything. 

Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is. 

“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night. 

4:34 am

What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too. 

Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough. 

Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night. 

—

“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room. 

“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed. 

“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god. 

Then again, you could’ve been studying. 

“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving. 

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne. 

Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there. 

Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap. 

About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded. 

Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password. 

Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out. 

A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice. 

“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time? 

There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it. 

You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top. 

That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt. 

—

“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder. 

“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him. 

“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class. 

It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain. 

There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you. 

His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that. 

“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes. 

“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks. 

“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.

That’s probably why he’d given you the food. 

Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella. 

“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand. 

“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it. 

“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam. 

“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up. 

Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly. 

—

“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did. 

But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you. 

And you’re too prideful to let that happen. 

“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students. 

He hands you the test back and you stand up. 

“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?

“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him. 

“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension. 

Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything. 

“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“

“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs. 

“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”

“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes. 

“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see

him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at. 

“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering. 

“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself. 

“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—

Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime. 

“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker. 

“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.” 

“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed. 

“I’ll be ready in five.” 

And he was. 

The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants. 

“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.” 

“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust. 

“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh. 

It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking. 

“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in. 

“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy. 

“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people. 

Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black. 

The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe. 

“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner. 

How the fuck do you even act at parties. 

“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes. 

“Hey,” You offer a smile. 

“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm. 

“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades. 

An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago. 

He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs. 

He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour. 

His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you. 

“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head. 

“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them. 

“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him. 

“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!” 

He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment. 

At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you. 

“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before. 

Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow. 

“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes. 

“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips. 

“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you. 

This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life. 

—

A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in. 

“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it. 

“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off. 

“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave. 

“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door. 

“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff. 

“Pretty sure you bottom,” 

“Just this once.”

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Subway Obsessions Arthur's POV ch.1

Arthur Fleck POV x Fem!Reader  

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: From Arthurs POV. It's just another night on the subway. A typical ride on the Gotham train on his way home from a long day of running errands and away from his tedious depressive thoughts. Perhaps he would catch a glimpse of the woman he could only seem to catch in passing, the woman he’d been secretly watching, following, fantasizing about nightly. Perhaps the unending misery that is the city above had him thinking of change, of something new to obsess about. Something to draw his mind away from the blistering and the mundane. Would he finally get the courage to talk to her? 

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, mentions of violence, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. First fic, btw! I'm hyper fixated now, so expect more. This is something I've been mulling around with for a while. I've done this story from both the readers' POV and from Arthur's because I can't get enough!! So, make sure to read both! I loved writing from this perspective so much, btw! Literally! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot/character building. Cheers! Enjoyyy!

Word Count: 3.9k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions 

CHAPTER 1: Chance Meeting 

Today was another mundane day. Arthur had been out earlier in the evening running errands for his mother. Picking up T.V. dinners at the grocer and medications for him and her at the local pharmacy. Still, getting around the city was a chore in of itself. He figured the subway would be the easiest and quickest way home. It was nearing 10 o'clock pm. His mother would be worried, and it was getting late. He knew the dangers of roaming Gotham city at these hours. His mother used to say, "That's when the colorful people come out." A way to make something serious, completely unserious. Still, he knew the dangers and tried as hard as he might to keep his wits about him. Easier said than done when you're a man with a neurological disorder, apparently so many people hate you for. He wished they’d understood or tried at least.  

He always pondered why the people of Gotham were so... well so mean! Everyone he encountered save for the very, very few were just assholes to him. Perhaps it was the political climate? With Thomas Wayne running for government placement, it probably didn't help. Make the rich richer and the poor poorer he thought. Perhaps it was the state of the city itself, the infrastructure, the lack of resources. He sure has been on the wrong end of that stick one too many times. "Good people suffer Happy," his mother would say. But he never understood why it had to be that way. Life was circumstantial. He didn't ask to have what little he did. He didn't even ask to be born and thought life was the real joke.

It doesn't have to make sense to be funny! He jested internally. Because its fucked! And there lies the comedy for those broken enough to see, yet perhaps healed enough to laugh at the pain. Because, what else can you do?  

His mind wandered through these endless fields of thought when a train car stopped in front of him. He had been standing on the platform disassociating for some time. Perhaps he even forgot where he was for a moment, ruminating over the wrongs of life and playing them out differently in his head. The things he didn't say or do, what he could have done differently... 

The brisk hiss and click of the air brakes as they screeched to a halt brought him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, waiting for the doors to open. As he did, a disheveled looking figure pushed past him while exiting. He burst out in a cry of compulsory laughter and stepped on the train. He was in the last car and immediately noticed it was bearable, as bearable as riding the subway can be he postulated. 

In his search for a seat towards the end of the train car, he noticed a large putrid looking spill in the back. It melted off the seats and slid across the aisle. It looked sticky. Best to avoid that then, he thought. He opted for a bench seat away from the offending area and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, arm outstretched on the head of the seat next to him. No one was in this car except for him. He found a moment of solace and drank it in, filling himself with the noiseless satisfaction of silence and peace when a warbled voice broke over the loud speaker. He couldn't really understand it, but the semblance of words spoke what sounded like “platform 19”. It was all he could understand through the robot whine. He felt anticipation rising within him. 

At approximately 10:15 p.m., the doors of the subway train broke open with a gush of cold night air. At the other end of the subway, he watched as a woman stepped onto the train like a fawn. Scared and unsure of where to go or sit. She was bright and colorful; she immediately caught his eye. Was this what his mother meant by colorful people? He thought to himself. He quickly realized it was her! The girl he had fantasized about daily and nightly, hoping to catch her on the train but only seeming to in his thoughts and dreams, remembering her face, her scent that penetrated her surroundings. He had tirelessly followed her the first time he saw her. She was the only person to smile at him that day. He had to know more and had to know why. But she wasn't always on the same train. He always hoped to run into her and had almost given up, thinking she must have been some sort of hallucination he created for himself to lessen his own pain. But there she was.  

She looked different tonight. She looked like a predator, displaying colors brightly in the face of possible danger. She was a force; he felt the atmosphere change as soon as she stepped in through the steel doors, a thickness lifted in the air and he could feel himself tense in his seat. His clothes were suddenly uncomfortable, his collar too tight, his hands, sweaty. She always looked beautiful when he saw her, she always looked content and comfortable. Hair in a messy bun with strands falling about her face swayed by the wind that surged through the train car. Sweats he could still make out her figure through, leaving him wanting more every time, it drove him crazy! But today she looked like she was straight out of the films on the TV! He thought to himself. She made him think of glamour, it's the only word that truly fit, like the old films he would watch with his mom. Wow! Was she a sight to see, a cool pristine liquid flowing over his burning eyes. A soothing image of pure proclivity. An unknown sense of calm swept over him. 

He watched, frozen, as she cautiously observed the train car searching for a seat. He looked at her from top to bottom. She was significantly smaller than him, petite, probably around five feet three he gauged. Fuzzy black boots, blue jeans tightly hugging her figure, full thick thighs, his mouth began to water - he thirsted for her, wanted to drink in her every essence. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to choke it down. A tight black shirt under a small cropped pink sweater with red hearts all over. It perfectly displayed her large soft breasts. Brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she walked, strands of them fell daintily on her face and cheeks. As she walked, she would flick it away with a quick movement of her head. The way she did that, moving her hair out of her face without using her hands. It made him tingle in all the right places. His mind raced. What else can she do without using her hands? he thought.  

There was something pink in her hair too, he saw as she walked past. She didn't notice him at first. Most people don't he thought to himself. Although this thought disappointed him, he didn't fault her for it. He had the urge to make her notice him. To be a presence and to be objectified by her, he only wished he could hold that kind of power.  

As she passed, the scent he had come to know as her- wafted past him, he sucked in through his teeth sharply. It was heaven on earth. Stimulating. He would follow that scent hoping to find her, mercilessly searching. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac, and he felt his cock spasm. She was eyeing the seats towards the back where that odd spill was. A butterfly he thought. It's a pink butterfly in her hair. He immediately felt like a school boy again, fawning over and wanting to get the attention of the pretty girl and for her to return it.  

"This one's fine!" He blurted out, not really knowing what he was saying. She turned around, her beauty, dark, striking, and he found it hard to speak again. He stammered and was able to get the lump out of his throat to follow up with; "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" his voice felt cracked but he tried to contain his composure, he didn't want to scare her off. He was the only other person on the train, and it must have jolted her since she didn't see him at first. Plus, she probably thinks I'm some kind of creep or weirdo, he thought to himself. There was some truth behind those thoughts, but that didn't make him a bad person, he thought. All day, he spends trying to have a nice day to make himself and others happy, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let the bad influence the good he can salvage. 

"Oh, thank you!" A sweet voice broke the monotony of thought, and immediately he was flung back into the present. She made her way to the seats laid out in front of him. A row of sideways seating. He watched her sit gracefully, slowly, like a calculated ballet dancer, he thought. Every move fluid, every move perfect. When she sat, she arranged her things on the seat next to her and settled in. He wondered to himself where she was going. Why she had so many bags, why she was riding the subway so late, as a woman, she should be terrified. This city is not safe, especially for someone as strikingly beautiful as her. She was like a beacon of light, too bright to stare at, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and simply couldn't resist the allure. 

She actually sat next to me! He thought. Only one seat away, actually next to me. But that wasn't all. She saw him, noticed him, heard him, and listened to him. The weight of these simple gestures made his hands sweaty, and he tried his best to remain aloof. The doors of the train opened on the other side of her, and a breeze blew her hair behind her and over her face. He couldn't help but see her, every aspect of her. He studied her every move, every inch of her body. He wanted this to last, for this image to never leave his mind.  

The wind that blew past her carried on it her scent. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet alluring scent of peach? No. Some kind of berry? No. When the doors shut and the pressure created another breeze, the scent wafted to him again. Taking it all in, he identified the smell as watermelon. Some kind of fruity smell filled his senses with the feeling of euphoria. It was intoxicating. He wondered what it would be like to be pressed up against her, inhaling her deeply. He looked down with a deep sigh when he looked back over. She was moving a strand of hair out of her face and caught a glimpse of her looking at him as well. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she broke her gaze. She was fire, burning too hot near him, and he wanted so badly to play, to burn himself, engulf himself in her flames breathlessly.  

He tried to come up with something to say, anything. How do I talk to her? What would I even say without sounding stupid? He thought. He watched on as the florescent lights above her flickered. It lit up parts of her he hadn't seen upon first observation. Glitter decorated her collar bones and cheeks. Her sweater was slightly unzipped. He could see the peeking out of her cleavage. Sparkling with glitter, so pretty, she reminded him of the stars of the night sky. Unmistakably beautiful, yet so. Far. Away. He had been working up the courage to say something to her, to hear her voice again, he didn't want to forget it. A symphony replayed in his mind. He needed more.  

He stumbled over his words, "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " he said in the kindest, most unassuming voice he could muster. She looked up and locked eyes. They burned his insides like hot coals. He anticipated her reply, not knowing if she would even engage in conversation with him. "No worries!" She spoke in a reassuring way that made his heart flutter. "I know how it can be, trust me!" She sounded genuine. Kind. There was something underneath her voice, though he couldn't quite conceptualize. Fear? Doubt, maybe? He wanted to take it away.  

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" Again, her voice beaming so light and so lifting. She reached out to shake his hand that he had offered. Her hand was small and was practically swallowed by his. Her fingers were warm, sweeping softly over his palm as she grasped his hand in hers. It's a simple thing, he thought. It was a small touch, but it was enough to make him crumble inside. She felt so nice! "Y/N," he said. "I like that." He lamented. Such a beautiful name. But everything about her was beautiful. Her presence was wholesome and welcoming. Is this real? he pondered. Thoughts took over again, and not knowing how to continue the conversation, they sat in silence for a moment as he worked up the courage to speak again. 

Moments passed that felt like a lifetime, but he was content in her presence, soaking up her aura. As he went to ask her a question, she moved to speak as well. Catching each other off guard, Arthur profusely apologized "No it's okay, go ahead," he said, not wanting to interrupt her. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" She insisted back. Her voice was small and mousey, she seemed so shy. Why would she be? She screams confidence and power. Even in her apprehensive movements, she seems calculated, he thought to himself. He stole another glance at her. Her eyes sparkled reminiscent of a smokey quartz gem in a bracelet he once saw in a shop window. A thought of her adorned in nothing but gems crossed his mind. He tried to hold onto the image before it left his mind's eye. He felt a flush in his cheeks again, and his eyes darted. He couldn't look her in the eyes for too long. It made him nervous. He was working up the urge to speak again, to say something, anything.  

He broke the silence and asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" He uttered jokingly. After saying it, he felt immediate stupidity. Why would I say that? He thought and started an inner spiral. As if seeing his reaction to his own question and wanting to ease the tension building within him, Y/N said, " Well, I work at the Gotham shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I guess, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But, yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been attacked twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself."  

The words spilled out of her mouth like a wave of glass, he couldn't fathom her ever saying this of all things, it was jolting for him and triggered something within him he had tried so long to hide. His mind raced. He felt anger and rage well up inside of him it hardened his sternum and burned in his throat. He became stiff but was unaware. The spiraling began to start again. This city was ruining people, hurting people, good people! He thought. She helps people, and then people hurt her?! Pieces of shit! He screamed internally. The emotions he felt were at war within himself. He felt rage for her pain and suffering at the hands of this city's denizens, he felt fear for her life knowing she rides the train every night, he felt regret, why couldn't he have been there to help, to do something? He all but took the pain on as his own, it soaked through to his core. He too had been at the mercy of some of the worst people he has ever had the displeasure of encountering in this god forsaken city, he too had been attacked, hurt, mercilessly tortured by these fucking terrible people.  

Lost in his train of thought and looking straight ahead he couldn't help but sternly say in sympathy "These people are just fucking terrible!" She must have noticed his change in demeanor at this declaration. He suddenly felt a warmth cross his leg, and lightly squeeze. It was smooth and comforting. His concentration broke completely. Pulled out of a trance by her as if the thoughts were just zapped out of his brain. His eyes quickly darted back to her where they followed the length of her shoulder, to her arm, and from her arm to her hand that rested upon his thigh. He felt the muscles in his face relax, his shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. The sheer power she had over him he thought. The warmth emanating off of her palm was like security, a blanket of nostalgia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt what felt like love, like connection, or attachment. He couldn't help but see flashes of images in his mind, her moving her hand closer to his cock which had began to throb. He tried to brush away those thoughts but they plagued him. She was touching him. Something that never happens to him. He immediately craved her touch, he wanted more, he wondered how that would be possible. He thought this couldn't be real. Not this time.  

Once again, breaking his thought pattern she spoke, and he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, but I'm ok now!" She said in a reassuring tone. Her voice, like petals on velvet. Soft, gentle. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." Safe? He thought, with me? Like she trusts me? He could feel the negative thoughts start to brim to the surface of his mind but quelled them by responding instead. He needed clarification. The words she spoke just didn't make sense to him. He couldn't see why she would or should trust him, although he so badly wanted her to, for this to be true, he needed it to be. He suddenly felt the urge to never leave her, to always be by her side. He would watch, he would follow, and he would do anything for her.  

He only imagined what it would be like to know her both romantically and intimately. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He spoke haphazardly, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear, hoped to hear. "I do." She looked into his eyes sincerely. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't breathe. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to grab her, to feel her against him. He shifted his legs at the thought. Looking up at him like that weakened him in so many ways. Most noticeably, in his pants, where he tried to conceal the results of his dirty thoughts. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he proclaimed proudly. A shy smile touched her lips and she continued to gaze into his eyes. He smiled back. I make her feel safe, he thought. She is comfortable in my presence. No one even bothers talking to me, no one ever wants to talk to me. He had the urge to speak once more but couldn't find the words.  

Before either of them could speak, the subway speaker rang out once again in that barely audible robotic toned voice announcing the next stop as the harsh brakes squeaked heavily to a stop. As if anticipating her to leave, he just as quickly stood up and offered out his hand. "Thank you," her voice sang. She turned to face him, her small stature looking up at him once more. He held his composure but felt the heat well up inside him. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" She cheerfully exclaimed with a smile.  

She had grabbed her things and had let go of his hand. What sweet bliss it was for the few seconds he had held it. Her fingers, so dainty and soft. The train screeched to a halt, and he instinctively grabbed her hand again and put his other hand at the small of her back to steady her. He could feel the soft curve of her spine. He slowly moved a pinky closer, hoping she wouldn't notice, tracing the line of her jeans as he did, feeling the line of her panty through the fabric. He quickly pulled away as she exited the train. He had held back. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to turn her around, grab her face and kiss her, shove her onto the subway seats, and have his way with her, make her cry out. He wanted her to miss work. He wanted her to quit! He wanted her all to himself.  

This moment was too perfect. It felt like a dream. As she stepped off the platform and began to walk away, he stood as the doors shut, helplessly watching her as she slowly walked. Unable to stop time. As the train brakes hissed and cranked, he saw her stop and turn around. She had stepped to the doors, but it was too late. He watched on as her figure shrunk into the distance as the train traveled once again into the dark tunnel. He waved. He would see her again. He would make sure of that. Platform 19. He thought, I'll remember this time. 

[luffyrose]

Oh Brother....s?

I had the most brilliant mini-idea while raging at video games because my parents suck at em. Anyway, there's really no correlation there, but the idea!

So we all know the whole "Danny is related to (Batkid) and he was give away because blah blah" or "he died and blah blah". We know those, and we love them, but what if, hear me out, Danny is related to MULTIPLE of them.

Danny is the child of Willis and Talia.

Now he was definitely not planned or anything, it just happened during a random mission and Talia couldn't bother to deal with it much. She decided that if the child lived she'd give it to Willis, a sort of test. It's not like she needed the baby, Damian had been born a little while before. Talia is one of those mothers who doesn't LOOK pregnant even when she's about to have the baby so basically, Danny does end up being born but is a really sickly kid, like REAL sick.

Of course, she really couldn't care less about the kid so baby Danny was given to Willis, who just gave Danny to Jason and Catherine. He's like 8 or so, so he isn't Robin yet, and he is SO happy to have a little brother. Except he's terrified for Danny, whose name was originally something else with Daniel being his middle name thanks to Jason (also why he kept the name Danny and not his original first name), but he doesn't want Danny hurt. After a few years, just before he becomes Robin, he gives a barely like 4-year-old Danny to a shelter or something with a blanket and a note.

Everything goes the same with both of them from there. The reason why Jason is easier on Damian compared to the others? He kinda looks like his baby brother, not identical but like, there's a resemblance, and he kind of finds it uncanny. Reason Talia even gave the time to help Jason? Well, he's technically the older brother of her younger child, and after having Damian for a while she does feel a little bad. Even if she doesn't want to meet the kid, she figured helping his older brother was a good enough way to apologize.

Danny remembers his older brother. How he looked and his name, and how he always took care of him. It's why even when his new adoptive parents neglected both him and Jazz he doesn't think anything is wrong. Jason had raised him. Now Jazz was. It was simply normal to him. He's just got major parent issues honestly.

The only people who know about his older brother are Jazz and Tucker though. His parents never were told because they'd been too busy to learn about it. Jazz had helped him on the earlier nights when he cried for Jason. And Tucker had learned when they first became friends as kids. Even if he was close to Sam, he never mentioned Jason though, it kind of felt like something he shouldn't touch anymore. It'd been years and even if he still had that star blanket, the note he vaguely remembers with it had been taken and put with his papers...and well he didn't know where those were.

Jason had already died and come back when Danny had the accident, so neither was aware of the other still. Danny does the whole hero thing for about 3 years before everything came crashing in for whatever reason, and he has to run. With no plan, he just follows his core and ends up in Gotham but he doesn't know why. Gotham herself is THRILLED to have him back because Jason was hers and this was Jason's little brother as well as her king! So she's trying to help the disoriented and hurt boy to his brother.

Cue shenanigans and angst though and it take a good MINUTE for Danny to even meet the Bats, let alone Jason. I'm thinking everyone meets him in one way or another before Jason is getting something from the cave while they're talking about this meta kid who LOOKS kind of like Damian but not at the same time, so they need to figure out if it's a clone or what. Jason sees the picture and is frozen, not even noticing the fact that he started crying while the whole fam is freaking out.

It's Damian, who looks between Jason and the picture, that notices the subtle differences that had them thinking it was still familiar were from Jason. And dun dun dun, it's Jason's little brother. He never knew who the mother was and after someone gets him out of his like mini-panic from knowing his brother was close by, he just bolts to his bike to go find him.

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

I actually think I may make this a one-shot series. If anyone else wants to use this idea though feel free as well! Just tag me or smth :D

I honestly do think this is gonna be another thing I write though, I kinda love this idea a lot XDD

[hubbvrd]

13 with Adam maybe? Only if you’re comfortable of course <3

Feelings | Adam Fantilli

summary — Adam and y/n have been friends since they were little. Both have had feelings for each other for a while. But what happens when the two suddenly get closer at a sleepover party?

pairing — adam fantilli x reader

words — 2760

notes — thanks for your request. I hope you like it!🧡

Everyone has that one day of the week that they particularly look forward to.

For most people, it's definitely Friday, which marks the end of a hard week at school or work and the weekend at last.

For others, it is Saturday or Sunday, which stands for sleeping in, free time, time for yourself and doing nothing.

Your favorite day of the week was Saturday. Especially those special Saturdays when your best friend Adam wasn't on the ice fighting for the win with the Blue Jackets.

But the Saturdays that were just you and Adam.

These Saturdays didn't come around too often during the year. But when that special Saturday came around again, it meant a sleepover with Adam.

Adam and you grew up together thanks to your mothers, who have been friends for a long time.

Adam is just eleven days older than you, which means the two of you have been more or less inseparable since you were born and have walked almost every step together.

There was hardly a day when you were ever apart in your childhood, because not only were your mothers best friends, but the Fantillis' and the Y/L/N's houses were next door to each other, so you played together in the big garden every day in the summer.

And in winter you spent most of your time in front of the fireplace or on a nearby ice rink playing hockey with Luca Fantilli, Adam's brother, and your little sister Lucy.

"I'll be fine" you mumble as you climb the last few steps, resting your chin with difficulty on the many blankets you're holding in your hands and hoping you don't lose them on the last few meters to your room.

"Is that special sleepover party coming up again tonight?" Out of the corner of your eye, you see your sister waggle her eyebrow as you walk over to your room.

"Yeah, Adam's coming in about an hour," you let her know as you put the blankets down on your desk and then survey the little mess of clothes in your room.

Earlier, you had gone to look for the same two pairs of pyjamas that you and Adam wear every year. They had been so far back in the wardrobe that you had unintentionally created a little clothing chaos.

"Then you're storm-free. I hope you use the time very wisely." With a broad grin, Lucy drops onto your bed.

"Yes, well, by watching a movie, eating some snacks and chatting a bit," you mumble more or less to yourself, but loud enough for Lucy to hear you as you start to carelessly throw all the clothes scattered around your room into the closet.

This wasn't the best idea, but it's the quickest one right now, because you still have a few other things to prepare before Adam will be at the door.

And that's why the closet was at the back of the queue and had to wait until tomorrow for its turn.

"You know exactly what I mean, y/n." A loud sigh can be heard from Lucy's direction as you start to rebuild the cave that Adam and you used to make out of blankets and pillows when you were four years old.

By now you were able to build the cave in your sleep. At the age of 19, some people would probably consider this cave too babyish, but you and Adam still loved this cozy cave so much and it brought back a lot of childhood memories that you like to talk about.

"No, I don't know about that." You carefully start to stretch one of the blankets for the roof and then carefully attach the end to the wall.

"If Adam and you carry on like this, you won't be a couple even when you're pensioners," your sister snorts formally and before you can say anything cheeky back, your mother's voice calls Lucy from downstairs.

"You got lucky again, y/n. Mom really saves your butt a lot from this conversation. See you tomorrow then. Don't forget to use contraception if you make it that far this time and ever get close."

"Lucy!" you hiss, startled, as heat rushes to your cheeks and you reach for a pillow to throw in Lucy's direction.

However, your little sister has disappeared from your room so quickly that you don't even have the chance to throw the pillow.

"Oh man..." you murmur quietly to yourself as you just stand there for a few seconds and breathe deeply.

It's no secret that you like Adam, really like him and are more or less in love with him, but there hasn't yet been a good time to really let him feel it.

"Maybe today," you answer your feelings out loud as you continue to get the height ready.

- - -

"I heard there's a special sleepover party here?" Adam looks at you with a beaming face after you open the door and let the older man into the house.

"Correct," you reply with a grin and after you close the door behind Adam, you are immediately pulled into a warm hug, so that Adam's aftershave surrounds you and briefly makes you gather yourself again.

"I missed you, y/n," he murmurs into your hair before letting go of you too quickly.

"I-I missed you too..." you stammer, a little confused, as you tug sheepishly at the sleeve of your sweater.

"I hope I've got everything with me" Adam babbles as he pulls the rucksack off his shoulders and then taps the full rucksack once.

"Well, I hope you haven't forgotten the nachos with your mother's best cheese sauce," you reply with a wry grin as you run ahead up the stairs and Adam follows you.

"Nope, Mom made sure I packed them for sure."

A grin grows on your lips. "Great, she knows what's good for me.

"Yeah, I'm good for you" Adam winks at you before walking into your room, thankfully not seeing your cheeks turn a shade of pink. "Wow. The cave looks mega, as always."

For a few seconds, you bite your bottom lip to somehow chase away the tingling sensation that's slowly making its way through your body before following Adam into your room. Adam has actually just been flirting with you.

Adam is crouched in front of the den, which is filled with countless pillows and blankets and has various fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the den a little and bathing it in a warm light.

"All that's missing are our pyjamas..."

Adam turns to you and looks up at you from his crouched position.

"They almost got on my last nerve. I had to search until I found them. I was panicking that they had gone missing" you babble on as you walk over to your dresser and take down the pyjamas.

"Luckily you found them, otherwise we would have had to cancel the whole party," Adam jokes, suddenly standing in front of you and holding out his hands for his pyjamas.

"Or we would have had to buy new ones."

Smirking, Adam reaches for the warm fabric of the pyjamas and his fingers graze yours for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to sense how you're reacting to this little touch.

While a tingling sensation breaks out inside you again, you try to be as relaxed as possible on the outside, but you don't really succeed.

Your eyes widen slightly as your mouth opens slightly and the warmth rises in your cheeks again.

Damn, I really have to pull myself together! Otherwise Adam will think God knows what of me, you try to pull yourself together somehow, hoping that this evening will be more relaxed and that you won't come into contact with Adam too often.

But that would be boring, wouldn't it?

- - -

Dressed in your pyjamas and snuggled up under the warm blankets in the cave, Adam and you lie next to each other. There's a cushion between you so that you can relax a little more and take a deep breath.

While you lie there and watch Adam, he starts to get various snacks and drinks from his rucksack. These include various pastries that his mother has prepared especially for you.

"Please tell me these are exactly the cookies I think they are!" you almost shriek as Adam holds the Tupperware container with the large cookies in front of you.

"These are my mom's world-famous cookies" he proudly presents to you, uttering the sentence you've been dying to hear.

"I love your mom for this" you gush with your mouth full, because you just couldn't wait to leave the cookies untouched any longer.

As you start to chew with relish, Adam watches you with amusement and a smirk on his lips.

"What are they? They're awesome," you mumble with your mouth full. "And instead of staring at me now, you could choose a movie, Fantilli."

Adam starts to turn red within a few seconds, so he quickly turns his head away and goes to your laptop, where he opens Netflix and then starts looking for a movie.

Did Adam really just turn red because of me? you ask yourself. No, that can't be it. There must be another reason...

"Uh, what genre?" Adam mumbles quietly, his eyes still fixed on the laptop and his voice sounding slightly nervous.

"You decide" you reply, popping the last piece of cookie into your mouth as you continue to watch Adam and begin to wonder if he's really nervous about you right now.

Does he perhaps feel the same as you?

Do you trigger exactly the same feelings in him as he does in you? Was that really possible just now? Or are you just imagining all of this?

You would love to open your mouth and ask Adam all the questions that are running through your head, but when you open your mouth, not a single word comes out. It's probably for the best, because you don't want to be wrong and end up damaging your friendship or upsetting or hurting Adam.

"Then let's look at this one" Adam interrupts your train of thought as he selects a movie and then places your laptop between you so that you can both see clearly.

"Can you tell me his name?" you ask as the movie starts and you begin to sit down a little more comfortably.

Adam tells you the title of the movie, which you haven't heard before, so you are all the more excited about the movie and can hardly wait to immerse yourself in the story of the protagonists.

- - -

An hour and a half later, the black screen of the movie appears, which you comment on with a slight pout.

The movie drew you in within a few seconds and didn't let go so quickly that you can hardly believe it's over.

The movie was about two best friends who grew up together, were inseparable and suddenly went their separate ways until one day they found each other again and then fell in love.

The story was a little like you and Adam, but a little different, so you start to wonder if Adam chose this movie specifically to confess his feelings to you through a flower?

No, that was silly. Stop getting yourself into things! You're almost becoming obsessed, you admonish yourself again.

"The movie was good," you say quickly to silence any further thoughts that might come to mind.

"Yes, it really was," Adam replies and you hear a soft rustling beside you.

Shortly afterwards, Adam is quite close to you so that you can smell his aftershave again.

Within a few seconds, your heart starts to beat a little faster and the nervousness inside you begins to grow.

"Y/n," he almost whispered over to you, causing you to feel his warm breath lightly against your cheek.

The tingling in your body begins to awaken again, while you are unable to touch yourself even a little.

"A-Adam," you whisper back nervously as the rustling of the blanket sounds next to you again and shortly afterwards you find yourself in Adam's arms again.

"What are you doing?" you whisper again as you slowly manage to look at your best friend.

"What I should have done a long time ago," he replies in a whisper, sounding rather nervous.

His eyes rest gently on yours as his hand moves towards your cheek, where he places it and begins to gently stroke the small scar on your temple with his thumb, the one you got when Adam and you climbed up into the trees together and you injured yourself on a branch.

"I don't want this to be like it was until today," he begins to say as he continues to run his hand over your scar and looks you in the eye.

Unable to speak, you just stare at the person opposite you while your breathing is almost intermittent and your heart is pounding so fast you feel like Adam can hear it.

"I...I guess this could change everything now, y/n. But I have to risk it. I can't hold back my feelings anymore. My feelings for you are getting stronger and stronger. And every time I see you, it hurts not to be allowed to do this..." as Adam speaks, he comes closer and closer to you until his warm lips are on yours shortly afterwards.

Fireworks explode inside you so that your whole body starts to tingle within a few seconds and you open your eyes in shock for a few seconds because you are so taken by surprise by Adam and his lips on yours that you need a moment before you close your eyes again and return the kiss.

All too quickly, Adam detaches himself from you again and rests his forehead against yours so that you look into each other's eyes and your breathing quickens a little.

"I'm madly in love with you, y/n," he almost whispers, as if he's afraid to say the words out loud.

"Adam?" you whisper softly.

"Yes?" You can't help but notice that his voice sounds a little nervous.

"I'm in love with you too. And have been for so long," you whisper back and within a few seconds his lips are on yours again.

This time the kiss is much more intense. His lips move gently against yours, while his hand continues to rest against your cheek, gently stroking your cheek.

Your hands move to his neck, where they intertwine and you carefully pull Adam closer to you to somehow show yourself that this is real.

After a while, you slowly pull away from each other, whereupon Adam lies down on his back and pulls you with him, so that you carefully lay your head on his chest and Adam pulls the blanket over you.

Silence begins to reign between you, but it is anything but uncomfortable. On the contrary, you both use the silence to review the last few minutes.

A grin spreads across your lips as you snuggle closer to Adam, who wraps his arms around you and then rests his head on yours.

"Adam?" you murmur contentedly into the silence as you enjoy the closeness and hope that this closeness will never disappear.

"Yes?"

"You're the first person that's ever made me feel so safe" you murmur as Adam's closeness and warmth begin to make you slightly sleepy.

In fact, you've always felt so safe around Adam.

Every time Adam protected you from older boys who teased you.

Every time your teacher tried to force you to read aloud, even though you were too nervous to read a single sentence.

Every time you had a driving lesson and Adam sat in the back seat to be with you.

The time you had an appendectomy and Adam sat next to your bed after the operation and held your hand when you were in pain.

The time you got the email from your dream college and he sat next to you and held your hand.

There were so many moments when he made you feel safe.

Too many moments to list them all.

But now, after the two kisses and the moment when you're lying in his arms, you really realize that Adam was the one person who made you feel safe.

And you are sure that there will be countless more moments when it will be the same.

[bison-appreciation-club]

So I am aware that I am the only person making Edward II content as far as I can see, bUT if you are writing/drawing my guy then here is some advice from a MASSIVE Edward II nerd:

let's discuss Edward's appearance in excessive detail (yay)

Ok so. The basics: he had blond curly hair that reached his shoulders, parted in the middle in the style of the time. And a beard. Or at least he does in his effigy, in which we can imagine he is 43, his age at the time of death.

I mean. Let's take a moment to appreciate his hair. It is A Look that I want to emulate with all my heart ands soul. Just me? Fine.

In earlier depictions of him he is clean shaven. For example, this drawing of him when he was accepting the title of Prince of Wales from his father

look at my little guy (literally little, because the picture turned out tiddly and I don't know why). Lmao. Anyway, here are some more pictures of Edward II.

I sometimes see people say that this is a young Edward III, but as this was produced in 1326 I doubt it. I rarely see drawings of royalty before they become active in politics, which Edward III at the tender age of 14 had not yet become. So it's more likely that this is just a very youthful looking Edward II.

Again, this is probably Edward II. It's not specified, but it was produced during his reign so we can safely assume it's the man himself.

ok, so those are some drawings of him, what next?

unfortunately we don't know what his eye colour or complexion was. I'd imagine his eyes were probably blue or grey as it's quite rare to have blond hair and dark eyes. Also (and yes, I am looking too deeply into this, but shush), both his parents had dark hair, so for him to have lighter coloured hair would suggest a lack of pigmentation in hair and eyes, which would also lead to poor eyesight. (I can confirm this because I have the same problem. Both my parents have dark brown hair and dark eyes but I am blond and blue eyed as the pigmentation in my hair and eyes didn't develop as quickly as normal - it's common for white people to be blond when born and then for their hair to darken, but with me this is happening much more slowly than it did for my parents. As a result my eyesight is so bad that I can't buy glasses frames thick enough to contain the lenses lmao.)

here are what some of Edward's contemporaries had to say about him (quotes taken from Kathryn Warner's excellent blog)

"tall and strong, a fine figure of a handsome man"

"fair of body and great of strength"

"of a well-formed and a handsome person"

"one of the strongest men of his realm"

(To be honest the fact that he was super hot seems to be his only redeeming feature in the eyes of the monks.)

Edward enjoyed 'unkingly' activities such as digging ditches, thatching roofs and doing blacksmith work, so we can imagine that he was really strong (the quotes back this up). His father, Edward I, was six foot two so Edward II would have been pretty tall too.

So, in conclusion, if you're writing/drawing Edward II give him awesome hair. Give him dirt under his fingernails. Give him muscles. For the love of God don't turn him into the Braveheart version.

(also, when I look up references to the muscular structure most of the drawings that come up look like they're on steroids. don't put Edward on steroids. The strongest men in the world don't have ridiculously defined muscles. They just look 'bulky' or 'barrel chested'. So yeah :).)

Hope this helps!!! If not, at least this has been an excuse to ramble about Edward II.

[watcheraurora]

AITA for leaving my husband and abandoning my kids after finding out my husband's secret?

Tumblr Disclaimer: This is fictional, based on some backstory from my Even Ice Walls Fall Down fanfiction universe. This is not a real AITA post (that should get pretty obvious the more it goes on)

I (47F) left my ex-husband (47M) twenty-two years ago when our oldest daughter was two and our youngest daughter was one, after finding out my husband wasn't who I thought he was.

Without getting too in the weeds, my ex-husband (we'll call him Seth) and I knew each other for most of our lives. We met in middle school and we were friends for years. The kind of friends that all our other friends thought would eventually get together, but we insisted we wouldn't. Well, we did. And we did pretty young. We got married when we were 22 and had our first baby a year later. Our second came a year after that. They were the most beautiful baby girls in the world. The two of them and Seth were my whole world.

I didn't know at the time that he was already lying to me.

See, I found out later that Seth—who, up until that point, had been nothing but a wonderful husband and father—was a villain. You know how in the last few decades, people with superpowers began cropping up? Yeah. He was one of them. I don't know if I would have reacted the same if he'd been lying about being a superhero. But when he finally admitted who he was, my heart shattered. I felt so betrayed and angry. We'd known each other since we were eleven or twelve and he hadn't bothered telling me he was a villain with superpowers until we'd been married for three years and he'd had his powers for even longer than that.

But, finally, when we were twenty-five, he told me. Our marriage completely fell apart. I couldn't stomach that he was a villain. Seth grew up in a bad home. His parents were neglectful and often fought with each other when he wasn't in the room. He called himself a "Band-Aid Baby," born to try and save his parents' marriage. Which, obviously, didn't work. We had some friends who were five or six years older than us who helped him get out of his situation as soon as he could. I don't know if growing up in a house like that is the reason why he chose to be selfish with the powers he got. Part of me doesn't think so, even now. Because despite that bad situation he grew up in, he was always sweet and romantic with me, and he loved our girls.

Anyway. We got in a lot of fights. We woke the babies more than once with how loud we were yelling. I couldn't take it. He'd lied to me for years. He lived two lives—and would have happily kept doing so without my knowledge had I not gotten close enough to his secret to push him into telling me

When I say "villain," by the way, I don't mean "person with superpowers who uses them to jack a fancy car for a joyride." I know he's got the kind of blood on his hands that will never wash off. The kind that comes from taking a life. And he did when we were married.

As our marriage continued to crumble and I could no longer stand even being in the same room with him, I did what I had to. I left. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be with him.

And I left our babies with him.

Our girls were born in the earlier days of superpowered people appearing. No one knew how powers manifested, and they popped up randomly. No one knew if they were passed on genetically. I didn't know if those sweet, innocent babies would end up with powers like him. Would end up using them the way he did. I know this sounds bad coming from their mother, but I didn't want to have any part of that, if they ended up with powers. I didn't want anything to do with anyone with powers. I still don't.

So after we divorced, I left. I gave Seth full custody. I didn't even ask for visitation. He didn't contest the divorce. That doesn't mean he didn't fight for us. He just did it before the divorce. Once he was served, he accepted it and didn't fight anymore. I think he understood we were done.

But there was one more reason I left the girls with him. I could have taken them. If his secret got out, the courts would have given me full custody in a heartbeat (and he probably would have gone to jail). But I kept his secret during the process because, at the end of the day, I thought the girls would be safer with him. See, if I took our daughters with me, and somehow someone found out they were a villain's kids, my babies would never have a moment of peace or safety ever again. They would constantly be in danger. We would constantly have to move and restart our lives. And I couldn't do that to them. And Seth, fortunately or unfortunately, is one of those villains who is more than powerful enough to protect them. Keep them safe.

Seth and I made a promise to each other during the process. I wouldn't tell the courts (or anyone else) about his identity, and he wouldn't tell our daughters about being a villain either unless they end up with powers themselves. Not a fair trade, but I wanted our daughters to be able to have the opportunity to make a better choice.

I haven't seen any of them since. Except Seth's villain persona on the news every so often. I moved across the country and have kept my life small ever since. My workplace knows I'm divorced, but that's about all the details I've ever given

I don't know. Recently I've started to wonder if I made the wrong decision. It's been twenty-two years since I saw my daughters' faces. They're all grown up now and I haven't seen them since they were babies. I didn't get to take pictures of them in their prom dresses or at high school graduation. I missed their lives. I don't know if I can go back and face all those ghosts, though.

[squealing-for-harusono-sensei]

Is Sasaki to Miyano BL? (Pt. 1: Genre is COMPLICATED)

I can practically hear some saying "Obviously??" And others yelling "NO IT'S NOT!!!" to that question.

For those of you who don't get why this is even in question, it's because Harusono-sensei doesn't classify Sasaki to Miyano as BL. The first volume cover denies that it's BL and on the site where it's published, it isn't categorized as BL.

Some may argue that it doesn't matter. It's about two boys who end up together, isn't that enough? "Death of the author" and all that.

I studied literature in college. Admittedly, I had a hard time understanding genre–so I had it as one of the main topics of my graduating thesis out of spite. And got the best possible grade. So I think it's safe to assume that I learned and know more about this than the majority of this fandom. And I say, that question? Is VERY complicated to answer.

The thing is, a lot of people think of genre as a binary. Either something is or isn't a part of that genre. In reality, it's closer to a spectrum and there are a lot of grey areas.

Take the arguments I presented for and against Sasaki to Miyano being BL. How much you buy into either of those arguments is largely depended on

1) Who you think has the most authority over what genre a work is. Is it the author or the reader?

2) What makes a BL BL? Is love between two boys really the only factor?

Neither of these have a clear answer. The reason why I was so confused about genre was because the academic world don't agree on what it even is. We all agree that genre is a thing, but we can't define it.

As I see it, genre is a byproduct of the human instinct to see patterns in things. We see a story and go "This is like that other story!" Once we have a large enough amount of stories that resemble each other and we give that group a name, BAM! We have a new genre.

Which is why defining it is so hard. Stories can be similar in a lot of different ways. But stories aren't similar if they only have one commonality. And yet we tend to boil the similarities down to only one aspect.

Take the isekai genre. Stories about going to another world goes WAY back. And yet, it's only within the last decade that we gave them that name. As I see it, it's because earlier they were similar enough to fantasy stories to simply be lumped into that genre. Whether the main character was born into a magical world or came into it later in life didn't change things enough for those stories to be dissimilar. At most it was a sub-genre of fantasy (e.g. portal fantasy). But suddenly we got a lot of stories about being transported into another world that were very similar in a distinct way. The main character was similar. They ended up in similar worlds. They were, for one reason or another, OP in this new world. They had similar tropes, characters, plot progressions. So these stories were given a name–isekai. Meaning different world. And then, because being transported to another world is the most distinct feature, all stories with that premise is categorized as isekai regardless of how well the term actually fits. (Although if it only has the premise as point of similarity, veterans of the genre will typically say that it is only technically isekai, or distinguish it from other isekai in some other way.)

Looping back to BL, if romance between two boys is the only defining factor, we can't call BL a genre...right? Well, yes, but once something is a genre things get even more complicated.

But does it have to be? Couldn't we just solve it by having the author decide the genre?

Sadly, authors are not immune misclassifying their works. Authors are not immune to misunderstanding genres, for one, though I think we can safely rule out any of those reasons in this case. Harusono-sensei clearly knows a lot about BL–a lot of Sasaki to Miyano's humor wouldn't work otherwise. However, that doesn't rule out not being able to see the forest for the trees. Sometimes an author is too close to their work to recognize the genre because they get bogged down in all the details that make their work unique. There is also the possibility of Harusono-sensei just plain lying to us. Because sometimes authors do that.

But why would an author ever want to lie about the genre? Because genre shapes expectations.

This is why the question of what genre a work is even matters. In worst case scenarios, it's like eating something sour when you were expecting something sweet. You probably wouldn't like it, even though you would have liked it if you had known it would be sour. The worst case scenario isn't relevant for this question, but the point is that being told that something is a specific genre is going to affect how you experience the story.

Regardless of whether or not Sasaki to Miyano is or isn't BL, Harusono-sensei did have something in mind when she called it Boys' Life instead of BL. So whenever you recommend it, I think it's worth pointing out that it's a Boys' Life story. Because that's the expectation that Harusono-sensei intended for readers to have.

Does that then exclude Sasaki to Miyano from the BL genre? Not necessarily. Partly because I think that Harusono-sensei is half lying about the "not a BL" thing. More about that in part two, where I explore what I think Harusono-sensei intended with calling Sasaki to Miyano a Boys' Life story, NOT a BL.

But I did mention that the author might not be the most reliable source of what genre the work is. So I probably should try to answer the question instead of just making it more complicated.

If you try to rationally figure out the answer instead of just going by "I know it when I see it," there are a couple of different ways to do it.

One way of thinking about genre is that it's a collection of common traits that might occur in a genre. It might common character types (e.g. badboy uke), common tropes (e.g. kabedon), common plot developments (e.g. misunderstandings), etc. etc. Some are more critical than others. If there is no romance between two boys then it is categorically not BL.

Another is seeing genre as there being an imaginary story that perfectly exemplifies a genre. Whether or not a story is a part of that genre depends on how close it is to that ideal genre story.

These are just some examples, but the problem is that there isn't really a clear cut answer no matter how you try to figure out a genre. A lot is up to personal interpretation. Plus genre keeps changing. Each new story that is widely accepted as a part of that genre broadens what the genre can be.

Plus the simple fact that no one can read every story that may or may not be a part of a specific genre. I tend to avoid dark stories and have gotten less and less tolerant towards non-consent with age. So there are parts of the BL genre that I don't really engage with. Which then affects how I view the genre.

As I see it, the more you read a genre, the better your understanding of it is. And everyone who are avid readers of a genre will have similar but slightly different understandings of the genre.

Trying to figure out what genre Sasaki to Miyano is the rational way is way more work than I am willing to do. And realistically, kinda impossible. So I'll just give my two cents as someone who has read a lot of BL.

Sasaki to Miyano is partly BL. Which probably sounds like a cop-out answer, but I do mean it. While wholesome, it works a lot more on real world logic than BL logic and also focuses on things outside of Sasaki and Miyano's relationship. But the focus on the romantic aspect of Sasaki and Miyano's relationship, dealing with some of the same themes as BL, and the importance of the BL genre on the story can't be ignored either. So I consider it a fusion of BL and slice-of-life.

But if you read a lot of BL and have a different take? Then it's just as valid as mine.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Modern au - Lambert receives a bit of unexpected help.

Lambert stared after Aiden as he downed his shot, trying not to make it too obvious that he was putting all of his concentration into not glaring a hole into the back of the guy he was flirting with, leaning in closely and smiling that disarming smile of his as the stranger leaned in and said something to make Aiden laugh. Lambert slammed the glass back down perhaps a little too harshly, he had no right to feel jealous. Sure, they'd made out a few times (and that one heavy petting session that probably would have gone further if Vesemir hadn't all but kicked the front door in to announce his return home), but that didn't mean that they were together or anything and nor had Aiden given any indication that he wanted that. Like Jaskier, Aiden was a born flirt - it was just his nature (and god help everybody else when those two were in the same room together). Lambert wasn't about to get possessive because he'd had Aiden's tongue down his throat. Still...did he mean anything at all to Aiden or was he just one of many?

It was during moments like this Lambert seriously considered that therapist Geralt kept going on about who'd done wonders for him and Ciri. Vesemir had been a pretty ok dad as far as keeping them alive was concerned but as far as talking through feelings and emotions went, the man had left them to figure shit out for themselves rather than 'nagging' them - probably not the best tactic when dealing with three traumatised care kids. As a result; Lambert was self aware enough to know that at some point, he'd started developing feelings for his friend that went beyond simple lust, but also that he would rather stick his foot in a bear trap than actually talk to Aiden about it.

Another shot appeared in front of him. He turned his head to see Aiden's adoptive brother Cedric giving him a strange look as he leaned against the bar next to him, picking at already chipped nail polish on his thumb with his forefinger as his other hand idly swirled his own glass of colourless liquid, "You look like you need it!" He yelled over the music.

Lambert nodded his thanks before returning his attention back to where he could just about see Aiden dancing in the middle of the dancefloor with the guy he'd been talking to earlier standing (in Lambert's opinion) uncomfortably close as he tried to shuffle along to the bass beat.

"His hair!" Cedric yelled in his ear, causing Lambert to startle a little. He hadn't been aware of the other moving closer.

"What!?" This close he could see that Cedric's eye makeup had migrated down his cheeks with sweat, leaving glittery black streaks. The other rolled his eyes and tilted his head in a 'follow me' gesture.

The outside air was frigid but welcome after the heat of the club as Cedric led them out of a side door and into an alley.

"Ok, look." Cedric sighed, voice slightly hoarse as he lit a cigarette before offering one to Lambert, who declined, "I like you, and I seriously can not stand the pining anymore! So I'm going to give you a clue. If Aiden tucks his hair behind his ear when he's talking to you, you're in."

Lambert raised an eyebrow at him. He liked Cedric well enough but he knew from past experience he could also be a bit of a dick, with his idea of a joke sometimes bordering on just plain bullying (they were a little too alike in that respect which is probably why they got on - one asshole recognising another).

Cedric must have seen this in his face because he curled his lip in response, "I wouldn't joke about shit like this. I've lived in the same house as him since he was six years old. He's as bad as you when it comes to actually talking things through, but I know all his tells. When he likes somebody - serious 'I want to go on brunch dates and go halves on a shitty apartment with you' like - he'll tuck his hair behind his ear when he's talking to them. You're welcome." He stomped out the last of the cigarette under his heavy boot before turning to go back inside, leaving Lambert stood with a stray cat and the sounds of drunks yelling for cabs.

"Hey!" Aiden practically jumped on him when he spotted him and dragged him to one of the booths, "I was starting to think you'd decided to leave, you said you were getting a drink and then I couldn't find you."

"Just stepped outside a minute. What happened with him?"

"Huh?" Aiden looked back towards the guy he'd been with earlier, "Oh, Mick? Nah, and nothing was going to. He just felt a little embarrassed being up there alone. His fiancé isn't big on dancing and their friends bailed earlier so..." Lambert looked over again to see that sure enough, the guy now had his arm wrapped around a tall blonde woman, both of them waving goodbye at Aiden as they walked past.

"Making friends everywhere you go."

"Because I actually talk to people." Aiden laughed, long fingers going through the motions of tucking his hair behind his left ear - despite the fact that none of it had come loose from its tie - as he leaned against Lambert, who automatically wrapped his arm around Aiden's shoulders and gave a brief squeeze as he felt tension he didn't even know he'd been holding lift from his shoulders. He hoped it wasn't just his imagination making it seem like Aiden pressed in closer as he remembered what Cedric had told him.

"Hey!" Aiden said, lips close to Lambert's ear, "You want to follow their lead and get out of here?"

Lambert grinned, sharp and dangerous, "Let's go."

Aiden weaved their fingers together as they made their way through the crowd, Cedric back at the bar and raising his glass in mock salute when he caught Lambert's eye, laughing when Lambert flipped him off in response. He definitely owed the other man a bottle of his favourite vodka.

"Let's go back to mine. Cedric will be out past dawn if he has his way."

Lambert was buying him a whole god damn crate.

[la-hannya]

Been keeping away from the drama cause I'm mostly tired, want to mostly focus on the original series, and I can't wait for this fanfic to completely die truly from the death drag is doing since it's long overdue; but after reading this— it needed to be addressed. Saw some copium going on about it already.

You can say stuff like "he is a yōkai", "he was always like that", "he is too good to lower himself to the standards and morals of humans", "retcons can happen" "you see? Rumiko is supervising now", "You weren't paying attention to the story" "the translation should say this instead of this" etc etc. Sure. of course, Jan. All that shit is bs as shown in the source material a thousand times already. Ok, moving on.

but AGAIN this Sesshomaru is just not the same one. Not the same to the original anime and not the same og manga either. This is like a completely different character than what we've been shown before. Nope. Ken Narita said it best and knew it.

This one is a completely regressed version and you can die on the hill after punching me in the face "that it's the same one, it's canon" but the original one wouldn't let crap like this slide. Oh yes, I know he's not a fucking prince charming; for sure! WE ALL KNOW. But Sesshomaru had already grown enough that he gave a fuk at least about those around him. Even if he's a person who barely expresses himself. So, much so, that no matter how you view the relationship of him and Rin— you know he was still coming to see and make sure he was okay even when she was in a village that might as well be safe 💯% thanks to his brother along his wife + inugang and others. He took care of Kohaku after Kikyo died! He regretted not leaving Rin in a village earlier when she lost her life again. Here, he's whole family are accessories. You got even Shippo weirdly being his servant all of a sudden. You can measure the regression with a ruler 📐

The vibes Rumiko Takahashi is giving me at this point are: A) she doesn't give a fuk because the og story is FINISHED as she has talked before (tbh this woman didn't give a fuck starting the last half of the series cause you can look up her interviews on Rumic World/Furinkan, and she was half ass winging it by the end cause that's how much she stopped vibin with her "Magnum Opus". Thanks Sunrise) and since she doesn't give a fuk, she doesn't want to even bother looking at her own source material. This is why I've gone mostly "Death of the author" with her at this point.

B) The other thing could be as well that she's fuking this thing on purpose. "But, Gene she's supervi—" no shut up. And stop snorting the copium. You'd think if this was canon she'd be truly wanting to sell the story and this ship, but it's like she wants to make sure he along everything else is the worst possible every chapter. If she truly is supervising, cause honestly she still feels like she quickly looks over sht, goes "whatever, I'm done with this" and goes back to doing Inuyasha revamp *cough* I mean MAO. Though, it's quite understandable why she was so reluctant to allow this in the first place.

And let me tell you, the "Character becomes terrible parental unit when the next generation is born, so their past growth is thrown out the window" trope. It's OVERUSED GARBAGE that fuks up good stories 🗑️🚮 You got characters that are really similar to Sessh that are doing better in other animes for Pete's sake. LIKE "THE VILLAIN" OF YASHAHIME: KIRINMARU 🦄🤡

It's pitiful really. I dunno how anyone can still enjoy this because "uWu it gives me crumbs". Nah, have some standards. Other people can do better stories. Other people can write this better while still respecting the original story. And I'm not saying you can't enjoy some things from it, because you can (like Moroha, Kirin, the Mirsan kids, whatever). But this could've been better done. Peace.

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 37- Part 6

And that's just talking about Arceus creating the world (and probably the Lake and Creation Trios), fair enough. Speaking of…I see that Light Shard in the display there!

And that's just talking about…well, it could be talking about Arceus’ rings, but it could also be talking about the red, green, blue, and purple cross sigil associated with Reborn. Maybe it's both!

But that…seems to be all to see in the museum, but it was incredibly enlightening. Let me see if I have this right: a long time ago, the Reborn region was the location where a meteor connected to Arceus landed, leading to the world's creation. A civilization living in the region revered Arceus and the meteor, building whole structures and underground passages around the crater to protect the site of impact. To that end, they also built a stone gate of sorts, which was locked with four keys made from ruby, sapphire, emerald, and amethyst; the meteor itself is probably sealed away behind that gate.

However, this civilization died out eventually, their structures becoming ruins and being buried by time (quite literally), until eventually Reborn City was constructed on top of these ruins- probably over the site of the meteor’s landing as well.

That seems to be the story, with a few guesses/assumptions of my own thrown in. And it definitely paints Team Meteor's actions and motivations in a new light, if those assumptions are right. To rebuild the world, erasing this one in the process…they probably wanna use the meteor's power to do that, hence why they need the key jewelry to get that underground door open- if that is where the meteor is located. In addition- I wonder if any of the Team Meteor leaders are maybe descended from those ancients…? Could be extra motivation in the form of “how dare you build a whole city on top of my ancestors’ hard work” or something.

Oh! Oh, another idea! Okay- remember how last time, I suggested Team Meteor was behind the teleportation and earthquake issues in Spinel Town? Well, Team Meteor clearly considers the Reborn region “sacred ground” because of the history of the land (as I just described above), they consider the construction of the city upon it an affront…what if they feel similarly insulted by the taking of the artifacts displayed in the Spinel Town Museum? I mean, Sirius was all like “these jewels were ours before you were ever born” to Anna about the Pendant, surely the same sentiment would apply to these artifacts! 

And what if that one planned PULSE from Mosswater- the one called “Seamless Transportation”- was designed to use teleportation to steal the artifacts right out of the building (although Team Meteor would probably consider it stealing them back)? But then something went wrong somehow, and the PULSE is just teleporting random stuff everywhere instead? I mean, that doesn't explain the earthquakes, sure, but…hey, half of a theorized explanation is better than nothing!

Buuuuut I think it's time to take a break from worldbuilding. Let's turn our attention back to looking for that lady's furniture. We've found one bookshelf and the table, so that leaves:

One TV

One bed

Two chairs

One cabinet

One bookshelf

So…most of the items, still. But that's okay, it still shouldn't be too hard to find the rest of them. Look, I see one of the chairs right there!

Ah…well, hope no one was living in that house.

Chair down! Next, uh…well, I'm just gonna run around town and touch stuff as I see them.

There, already two more items, four overall, we're doing great!

I'm upset I didn't notice that chair earlier, it's literally right there-

But now, I'm running a bit low on places to check…maybe one of them landed in the PokéMart? Xera needs to go there anyways, so might as well check in there too.

Oh! Ooooh…oh, oh that's not good, oh no- we needed that Herbal Extract too!

Not too far from here, huh? I sure hope so- guess we're looking for the Mart now too, on top of the furniture…

Well, at least we found the TV, on the edge of that roof there.

And that was the cabinet, cool, at least we're making progress on that front.

So I think I'm just missing the last bookshelf? And there's still the matter of the PokéMart, but I still haven't found it…

I wonder- did anything get sent to Chrysolia Forest? Stuff was teleporting there too, so I'd say it's possible.

That's…not the PokéMart, but maybe there's a bookshelf in there? No? Just a guy?

Um…well, you know what? Props to this guy for making the best of a weird situation!

Previous

Next

[akiiireix]

Killed for Sport (Tsukishima Assassin AU)

"Should I ask you why you have a knife strapped to your leg?"

"It's a dagger actually. And no, you shouldn't." The blonde female glared at the blond male while answering. "And don't act so surprised Kei, you have a gun on yourself ." She continued.

Smirking, the boy reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. "Well, would you look at that? Are you by any chance psychic Tsukishima?"

No sooner did he say those words than he felt the tip of the dagger against his neck. "Call me that again and I will not hesitate to slit your neck. It's (Y/N)." she snarled. "Just because your father decided to fuck around with my mom doesn't mean we're related."

Her actions didn't make him flinch — not one bit.

Pushing her hand away he dusted his suit and walked past her like it was nothing, "Oh darling sister, that fucking around is the reason you were born in the first place."

He wasn't wrong, clearly he knew it and she knew it too which is what ticked her off. Gripping the dagger in anger, she slowly put it back on her leg and walked behind him.

"Just don't interfere with my work or you might accidentally get hurt, big brother." She ended with a tight-lipped smile and narrow eyes, leaving before he could even respond.

Of course none of that had an effect on him either. He simply chuckled in amusement. "I don't need to do much to get on her nerves."

Kei. Kei Tsukishima was one of the top assassins in Tokyo. After all, he did come from the Tsukishima family and they were all raised to be trained assassins. It was more like a family business for them. Naturally, his half sister (Y/N) Tsukishima was also trained and made to do jobs. She was a year younger than him but stood at 5'9 which really ticked him off sometimes, seeing as how she might reach him soon enough.

At the age of 18, he had already made his way to the top, being the best at what he does. The only other person who came close to him in getting the job done was (Y/N) and so he made it his life's mission to be the perfect thorn in her side.

Isn't that what older brothers are supposed to do?

"Tsukki, that wasn't playing nice." A voice called out from behind him. Not turning to look at the person, he simply replies emotionless.

"I never agreed to play nice Yamaguchi."

"Nevermind her, what's our job this time?" He asks the boy swiftly.

Tadashi Yamaguchi wasn't an assassin like his best friend, rather he worked on the sidelines as his assistant — his eyes and ears on all jobs.

He shook his head in disappointment at the change in subject "Our target this time is Mahiru Kurota" he turns the tablet in Tsukishima's direction and shows him the picture of the guy before continuing. "And he's been accused of doping athletes in exchange for money—"

"Doping is common and normal. Why exactly am I being sent to kill this guy?" He broke in, interrupting Yamaguchi. "Tsukki if you let me finish you'd know." He answered in annoyance.

Rolling his eyes, Tsukishima motions him to continue what he was saying earlier. "Soon after their payments, these same athletes are found dead. They're made to look like accidents but....."

"But that might not be the case." Tsukishima ends after listening to him. Yamaguchi nods in affirmation. "So this guy is taking the money and then killing them off. Ahh what a pain, I couldn't care less about those athletes you know. But a job is a job and since I'm being paid—

"500,000 Yen" Yamaguchi inputs.

"Right, so let's get the job done." He went quiet for a second before he continued. "Is there anything else I should know or do?" He asks.

Yamaguchi goes through his the job details before he lifts up his head and answers. "You've been asked to use you status as Volleyball Player in Karasuno to get close to him."

"Fine." He answers simply.

"That about sums it up. He's hosting a party right now, here's your invitation." He hands him an envelope. "And I'll be monitoring you but they're having a body check at the entrance so we cannot put any electronics on you for communication."

Nodding in response Tsukishima makes his way over to the entrance. "Oh and about (Y/N)—" he tries to call out.

"I don't want to listen to anything about her right now. I'm on a job." and with that he starts walking. Stopping short, he takes out the gun he had had in his coat and throws it towards Yamaguchi.

"Don't think I'll be allowed in with that." He said and walks out of view

"Don't tell me later that I didn't try to warn you." Yamaguchi mumbled as he walked back to the parked van he came in.

At the door, a guard asked for his invitation. "You're Kei Tsukishima?" He asks in suspicion. "Isn't that what's written on the invitation?" Tsukishima lowers his eyes at the guard. "Do the work you're assigned to before I have a chat with your boss about these issues."

Taken aback, the guard apologized profusely as he let Tsukishima enter the party. "The boss is in the back room." He added, hoping that this information would let his past mistake slide.

Clicking his tongue, Tsukishima enters, passing all the drunk and euphoric teens before going through the mentioned door.

"— and the girls team might not be as good as the boys team but this year we're sure to win. After all I am trained by the best middle blocker in the school."

A familiar voice was heard talking as soon as he entered. To his horror he saw (Y/N) sitting across Mahiru and having a chat with him. So this was what Yamaguchi had probably been trying to tell me.

When the two of them noticed him standing at he door, Mahiru got up from his seat, "Kei Tsukishima, I presume. So nice to finally meet you in person." He offers his hand for a handshake.

Tsukishima instead ignores him and nods. "Ahem... So right take a seat please and we can work on the contract." He sits beside (Y/N) who's grinning at him evily.

She had probably figured out the fact that he hadn't known she would be here too. "Hello brother, we were just talking about you." she added slyly.

Returning her smile he retorted sweetly, "Yeah, I heard the part where you called me the best middle blocker." Watching the grin wipe off her face gave him satisfaction like no other.

If Mahiru sensed any tension in the conversation between the two of them, he didn't say anything, probably dismissing it as normal sibling banter. "Here's the contract."

He presents two of the same set of papers, passing one over to them and keeping the other one. His hand hovers over the papers he passed to them, "I hope it's alright that the contract for both of you is made together since you're siblings."

"Actually n—" Tsukishima starts to say but she pinched his side which shuts him up but also earns her a glare. "Oh don't worry it's alright." She add sweetly.

The three of them talk about the details— mostly (Y/N), while Tsukishima takes note of their surroundings and commits them to memory. "—and that is all. Please give your signatures if you agree to these terms."

Oh finally we're done with this facade. When (Y/N) kicked him, he focuses back to them and signs the papers. "If that is all then I'll be taking your leave." Tsukishima replied and walked out.

After he left the room was silent for a while before Mahiru turned to her, "Is he always like that?"

"Yeah, perks of being famous and all." She replies waving him off. "Would you like to join me for drinks (Y/N)?" He asks after a pause.

Keeping the disgust off her face, she turns back and smile at him. "Maybe another time, after all I have practice early tomorrow. Can't win without practice now can I?" she chuckles.

"That's why you came to me didn't you?" He asks curiously.

"Well yes, but I still need to put in my effort. Now then, I shall take your leave too."

The next afternoon (Y/N) was working on the laptop when there came a knock on the door. Without warning, Tsukishima entered, followed by Yamaguchi who was telling him that he should've waited for permission before entering.

"Oh look Yamaguchi, I think she's angry." He said dryly.

"I wonder what gave it away?"

"Well you see you can know her mood by her hands. Like right now, she's holding a gun. I don't think that means she's happy to see us." He stated matter of factly.

She obviously couldn't shoot him. "Not us. You." She added as she put the gun down. "So speak. Why exactly are you interrupting my precious time?"

"Don't talk as if you were doing anything important." He rolled his eyes, "we need to work on this together— I'm not happy either, but we do so just do what I say and we'll get this over with."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Keep your male dominance to yourself. We're doing it my way."

Obviously they would get nowhere with this fight so he decided to humour her for the time being. "How exactly did you enter with that knife?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Dagger." She corrected, "and Yachi took it from me when she gave me the invitation and news that I had to work with an imbecile like you."

"Ahhh—" Yamaguchi interrupted their arguments.

"Mahiru got back with the day you have to pay and collect the drugs. It's a month from now, right before prefectuals actually. So figure out a plan peacefully before then or the two of you will be in big trouble."

Work peacefully with her?

Work peacefully with him?

Having no other choice she decides on her plan of action. Tsukishima takes out some licorice candy and chews on it while she works.

"Put that away will you it's annoying." She muttered angrily. "Would your highness like it if I threw it in the trash?" Surprised at how easily he listened to her, she nods.

The moment she looks back at her laptop she felt the candy hit her face, "oops guess the trash didn't want it." He smirked.

At this point she was practically seething. Of course he wouldn't be so nice as to actually comply with her requests.

"If you do that again I will throw you out that fucking window you— what are you doing?" She asks as she noticed him get off the chair and look out the window.

"Checking how high the drop is, see if it's worth it." He answered cheekily. She was officially enraged. Sitting back down she decided to ignore him until it was needed.

"Poison" she suddenly spoke after hours of silence.

"Car malfunction." Came his swift reply.

After arguing for a few more hours and getting consultations from both Yachi and Yamaguchi they settled on car malfunction much to (Y/N)'s disappointment.

Tsukishima smirked at her victoriously, glad that his idea made more sense for this job.

A month later.

"Don't mess up the plan you trainwreck or we're screwed." He whispers. "Oh shut it you overgrown baby. The only one capable of messing up is YOU." She retorts.

They work in silence, placing the job above their petty fights. After they finish making the changes to Mahiru's car the two of them slip out and go to the destination where they're supposed to meet him.

It wasn't long before they saw his car roll up. "Let's get down to business shall we?" (Y/N) asked in all seriousness when Mahiru entered the room.

"Right." Mahiru pulls out his briefcase and opens it, turning it in their direction. "I assume this is enough?"

Obviously, Tsukishima had to sell his act since he knew he had not been enthusiastic during their last conversation. He looks through the contents in the bag before nodding.

"I'm glad that Karasuno's shield is doing business with me. This will take us places." Mahiru then turned to (Y/N), "and Karasuno's Angel."

Who calls her that?

Who calls me that?

"Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Honestly didn't think you'd pull through with this deal but I'm glad you did." She replied putting on a charming smile.

"I'm hurt that you would think that sweetheart." Before she had a chance to reply he continued, "and about the payment?"

"Right. Here you go. That's everything we agreed on." Tsukishima says while handing him a briefcase.

"That concludes our deal then. I hope we can work together again." Mahiru smiles at them and then turns to leave.

Mahiru surprisingly had come alone, seeming to trust them. Dismissing the whirring sound that came from his car when he entered, he proceeded to start the ignition when.....

..... His car blew up. Tsukishima and (Y/N) walked up to car after the blast to see him lying on the floor covered in glass. Somehow still alive, but not for long.

"Please— save me! I'll do—do anything— for you." He cried in pain while holding his hand out to the two of you.

"Then Perish." Tsukishima told him and turned away. (Y/N) offered him a little flying kiss and a goodbye and followed behind Tsukishima, leaving before the bystanders and cops arrive.

Sending their condolences, they walked away, triumphant smiles at a job well done. After a week, when nothing suspicious was recovered from his accident, they were assured that their assassination would never come to light.

It was and always would be considered a tragic accident.

[taraljc]

So while the continuity in the films is an absolute disaster, there's a fair bit that can be handwaved. but Jean Gray being born 10 years earlier is not really one of those things. However I do wonder if Charles saw more of the future than he ever disclosed when he read Logan's mind in 1973. maybe that's why he goes off the absolute fucking rails by the time we get to Dark Phoenix. like he is so desperate to change what he saw in Logan's mind and yet instead he ends up doubling down and fucking up even harder which is kind of endearing in a way. but I'm not entirely short counts as character development. And it's still annoying that Charles and Hank are more fully realised characters than any of the female leads including Raven.

Also I find it vaguely fascinating that Hank apparently created his serum, and was using it for a solid decade before the timelines branched, and yet Kelsey Grammer's Hank in Last Stand acts as if he hasn't seen his own skin before when he's exposed to Jimmy's powers.

Hilariously, I care less about the cure from Last Stand turning out to be only temporary (and what makes it worse is that Bobby and Kitty apparently still get together even though Marie took the cure) then I do Charles' complete disintegration from reality being only temporary.

Considering that we actually see Jean reverse the Phoenix effect that she used to basically disassemble people to their composite molecules when she starts to dissolve Scott and then puts him back together, it makes sense to me that Charles would eventually be able to get enough power to bring back his original body after using Moira's coma patient as a timeshare.

I am glad that they finally in Days of Future Past show Raven fighting because that is one of the things that it defined Rebecca Romjin's Raven. Although the decision to put Erik in jail just so they could have a giant set piece of breaking Erik out of jail is weird because it means that Raven was actually only with Erik for like a year and a half maybe before they parted ways. and I am always going to wonder in the original timeline how they got back together.

(Also it makes me wonder how Wolverine first met Peter Maximoff, and how long the gap between The Wolverine and Days of Future Past is actually supposed to be.)

Although I will say one thing I have never understood about the choices that these films make is they already fucked up the Dark Phoenix storyline once why in the name of all that is holy did they try to do it again? Also it really doesn't work if they push the storyline back to 1992 compared to 2003 because then you have removed Logan completely from the picture and The only thing that worked in that whole stupid Logan/Jean/Scott triangle was giving Logan as a character something to be grounded in even if it was as flimsy and tenuous as it was.

I've also really been weirded by the fact that he apparently regained his memories at one point and it's just never referenced again. Like, he remembers sleeping with a mobster's daughter many times in 1973. and he knows in other universes that he's like 200 years old so he must have recovered his memories created by the traumatic brain injury Stryker gave him.

I need to watch Logan again because I think some of this must be answered in there and I just don't remember or they just didn't care. I think the second option is probably a heck of a lot more likely.

[sleepy-lil-kit-kat]

your fic with hades was SO CUTE!!! i loved it! :D i was wondering if you could do something else with him? it can be anything!!! i think he would be super protective as a cg!!! maybe meg and hercules question his ability to watch over a regressor, thinking their not safe with him. i dunno just a thought!! thank you!!

skies will be gray

~600 words, not on ao3

same as before, disney's hercules and some Greek mythology. set ambiguously post-canon

cg!hades, regressor!reader, ascended-to-godhood!reader. due to being from a pov that is very attached to hades, not wholly sympathetic to meg and hercules. hurt/comfort

i ought to admit, this... isn't my best work, lol. i rewatched hercules and it still didn't feel right, but i felt bad letting the request sit too long in my inbox. Meg and Hercules are... sorta the villains here? they're doing it from a place of caring, and Meg has a lotta issues with Hades... they're not bad guys really, but they are making a mistake (maybe one i might write them fixing later. who knows!)

- k!nk/nsfw please dni! this is a sfw age regression post! -

requests are open! see my pinned <3

"Lord Hercules, Lady Megara. My Lord speaks of you both." You clutch your chiton tightly as you look at the two heroes, trying not to betray your nerves too strongly. Or betray the fact that you really, truly, do not want to speak.

"My father's mentioned you as well." You stiffen up at that, even though it's probably just the usual gossip that goes around when a mortal ascends. Probably, most likely, flavoured with that disdain for Hades and those that live with the dead that all the gods above have.

"I see. Well, please excuse me, but I must be getting on with my duties." The formal mask serves you well, here.

"What exactly is your domain? Hades is as close-lipped as ever on the matter."

"Well, Lady Megara, I don't–see how it is of any concern to you. Please excuse me." You bow shortly, then step back and let your form dissolve into smoke, so that you can be on your way. So that you can escape.

(It's quite likely, you think, that you'll need to sit with Hades for a while when you get back. And he'll rant about how the gods favour the heroes born to them, but you don't mind that.)

-

"You manage to get that stubborn ghost back down here?" Hades is as ever, and that in itself is enough to calm you just a little.

Mechanically, you nod, then sit yourself down on your cushion, letting yourself go sort of limp.

"Stressful time up there, huh? You ran into someone?"

For a second time, you nod, and hold up two fingers so that he can see.

"Two someones, huh? Don't worry, kid, barely anyone's likely to come down here after you."

You flinch.

"Ran into someones who... might?" He himself sounds hesitant now, though he hides it well. "It wasn't Hercules and Megara, though, right?"

Though you don't say anything, your stillness is answer enough.

"Oh, mercy," he says, and then you spy, at a distance, the two heroes. Hades rises to his feet, and so do you, clinging to the fabric of his robes as though it's anchoring you to reality. "So nice to meet again, heroes," he drawls."

"You've been hurting the godling."

Rapidly, you shake your head, but you don't think they see it.

"Hades, we spoke to them earlier, and they said–"

"They spoke? That's strike one, then, because if they can help it, they don't." Hades's firey hair turns red as he interrupts Hercules. "Go on, why do you think I'm hurting the kid."

"You're hardly the best candidate to care for anyone!" Megara's eyes are practically burning as she says it. You know of their history, you know that she has every reason to think this, but–

You tremble slightly, clinging tighter to Hades.

"Get out."

"But-"

"Get. Out."

Even faced with the god's wrath, his form covered in ruby-red flame, they don't back down. Hercules puffs up more "Not unless-"

"Stop it," you whisper, unable to take much more of this.

Improbably, the two heroes hear you. Hercules pales, and they both–

–they say something to each other, and then they leave.

There's a beat. Hades turns, crouches down. "Hey, hey kid," he says, tone oh so gentle, gentler than you think you've ever heard it before, despite the rage that he'd been in just a minute ago. (He'd... he'd calmed himself, for you.) "Those idiots are gone now, yeah?"

You nod, slowly.

He sighs slightly, though it's not you he seems aggravated at, and lifts you up. Unlike what usually happens though, he just holds you there. Like a moth to a flame, you press yourself closer to him, soaking up his shadowy-safe presence. In his arms, you're so small, so protected. Nothing could ever hurt you.

All is right with the world.

[hrefna-the-raven]

Star Born

Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Knowhere

Words: 1967

Warnings: Back to the Future reference because those movies fucking rock! Great Scott!

A woman popped up from behind one of the machines, the sight of her made Peter weak, sending him straight back to a part of his mind he'd almost forgotten. She was wearing a black leather jacket crested with studs on the shoulder parts, the same torn light grey long-sleeve like Peter's, ripped from the collar downwards, revealing a small part of her cleavage, messily tugged into a pair of tight black jeans, the earth style finished off in a knee high pair of Doc Martin boots. While shaved off on one side, the shoulder long strains of her wavy amber hair fell down, covering one side of her face. Peter's eyes were glued on her frame, she looked like she emerged from one of his many dreams about home. He couldn't believe he was seeing someone so beautiful and so strangely familiar in a place like this. His heart raced in his chest, and he didn't want to but couldn't help but stare at her.

"Hi, what brings you guys here?" you asked the Guardians, a mischievous glint in your eyes at the sight of this weird bunch of strangers, especially the human.

Rocket stepped passed Peter, kicking him chuckling as he addressed you directly.

"We need parts for our ship, M class spacecraft," he said, trying to keep a straight face at Quill's drooling love struck expression. You nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

"I might have just what you need or even more," you said, walking towards a shelf full of mechanical parts.

As you bent down to push a piece of machinery aside, Peter couldn't help but stare at your well formed butt, the outlines perfectly highlighted by the tight fabric of your jeans. He felt ridiculous, staring at you like a hormonal teenager but he felt like he was falling in love with, not just your behind, but also you right then and there. You had this special something, a weird spell engulfing Peter's mind completely, rendering him completely defenseless. He still wasn't sure if you could be the earthling the Ravagers had mistaken him for earlier but everything about your outfit and the music coming from that old radio just screamed Earth to Peter and he would know, he was born there which technically made him the sole expert on this matter. You led them to your little junk yard behind the workshop, sifting through the pile when the two Ravagers emerged from behind a pile of spare parts.

“Earthling who names herself Star Born, you come with us!”, they yelled at you, merely earning a chuckle as you tapped on a device wrapped around your wrist.

“Oh this is gonna be good, watch this”, you cackled as you poked Peter, looking up to the intruders, “hey! Why don't you make like a tree and get out of here?”

The song from inside the workshop echoed louder now as the Ravagers ran towards you.

Every time I think that I'm

The only one who's lonely someone calls on me

And every now and then I spend

My time at rhyme and verse and curse those faults in me

As they were almost close enough to fight you, what looked like a glowing pink skateboard flew towards them and hit one of them in the head, before gracefully turning around midair to collide brutally with the other Ravager's face, knocking him out coldly.

And then along comes

MaryMary,

MaryThen along comes Mary

Mary, Mary

You leaped over, activating the rocket attached to your left boot, swinging around in the air, your right foot hitting the last standing Ravager's face hard, throwing him flat on the ground.

“And does she wanna give me kicks”, you sang along to the song as you landed back on your feet, grinning at the Guardians, your hips moving to the tunes.

“Why does this woman remind me of Quill, just with the skills”, Rocket asked, mouth agape in astonished confusion.

“Was that...is that...”, Peter stuttered, walking past you to grab the skateboard, “a flarking hoverboard?!” You laughed, bathing in the glorious moment that someone finally recognised the device you built.

“Yes, I tried to build the exact same as in Back to the Future II”, you beamed, “see it even has the Mattel logo on top. It's just a prototype for now though.”

“Oh my...hang on! There is a second movie?!”, Peter looked up at you, his eyes glowing.

“Oh no... here we go”, Gamora rolled her eyes.

“There are three movies, dude”, you laughed, “have you been living under a rock?”

“I-I-I was abducted when I was eight years old, 88, I-I didn't know”, Quill stammered, nervously fiddling on the edges of the skateboard before handing it back to you.

"Ooooh you missed the best. Sweet 90s baby, hell yeah”, you winked at him, throwing the board on the ground where it hovered a few centimeters above the floor before shoving it away.

You had been a space drifter for years after leaving Earth, trying to make ends meet before you eventually landed on Knowhere. It was a tough life, but it was what felt closest to a home, clinging to what would make it all worthwhile, your earthly treasures, the simple stupid gadgets that reminded you of a more calm time of your life. Neither Peter nor you knew at this very moment how important that connection would be, but the delicate foundations of a very important and fond friendship were laid on the day of this fateful random encounter. You whispered your name into Peter's ears.

“But you can call me Star Born”, your hand playfully tapped his shoulder.

“Peter Quill, also called Star Lord”, he grabbed your hand, swiftly kissing the backside of it.

“Nobody calls him that”, Gamora walked into the workshop, waving her hands dismissively.

“Yeah, nobody even knows his real name”, Rocket cackled, sitting on Groot's shoulder, “we need these wires and relays”, he held up a small box, “how much?”

“You know what?”, a finger moved to your lips, your brows furrowing in a thoughtful expression, “if I can borrow your Earth boy here for the rest of the day, I'll give you the parts for free”, you proposed hesitantly, almost sure that they would never agree to such an offer.

“Yeah alright, you can even keep him forever if you want to”, Gamora laughed, leaving the workshop without even glimpsing at Quill.

“I am Groot”, the tree shrugged and followed them, Rocket still sitting on his shoulder, turning his head to wave a middle finger at Peter.

“The vicious vermin speaks the truth”, Drax patted Quill's shoulder, “I'm sorry Peter Quill, but you will have to stay with the weird lady.”

A chuckle escaped your lips at the sound of Peter's annoyed huff, your fingers wrapping around his wrist, directing him to the desk in the corner of the workshop. You rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a small square electronic device. It somehow reminded Peter of his tape player, but instead of a cassette, a tiny floppy disc stuck inside.

"Check this out," you said proudly, pressing a button on the device, handing the headphones over to him, “waaaay better than your prehistoric device.”

To his amazement, he immediately recognised the track that started playing.

“Footloose?!”, his eyes darted to yours.

“Of course! Best dance movie of all times!”, a smile spread across your lips, “during my years moving from one planet to another, I kept telling others that we have this legend on my home planet where the great hero Kevin Bacon teaches an entire city full of people with sticks up their butts that, dancing, well, is the greatest thing there is.”

Peter stood in the middle of this messy workshop on Knowhere, feeling utterly abandoned by his crewmates and friends, leaving him behind, without a second thought, to get the parts to repair his ship for free while he was left to fend for himself. And yet he felt ecstatic, finding someone, not only from his home planet, but also someone with a weird humour that matched his own perfectly, you even twisted the plot of his favourite movie into the same silly tale. As the two of you chatted, he couldn't shake off the feeling that this encounter might have been more than mere coincidence. He never wasted any thoughts on the concept of fate or destiny, but this simply seemed too perfect to be a mere chance. As you continued sharing your memories of Earth, realising that, even though you experienced the planet during two completely different yet similar decades, Peter found himself more and more drawn to you. You were smart, obviously smarter than him, although he'd never admit that in front of the racoon, and definitely funny enough to keep up with his jokes, and by the end of the day, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had known you his entire life. He had scoffed at the ridiculous thought of love at first sight before, yet now he couldn't deny the way his heart raced as he looked into your eyes, that seemed like liquid pools of indigo threatening to drown him. As the day wore on, the two of you found yourselves wandering through the many shops and stalls on Knowhere, your giggles mixing into the steady noise of the bustling marketplace. Finally, as the evening grew late and the two of you reached the Milano, you turned to him, your hand resting on his chest, your mind loosing track for a moment as you felt the warmth radiating through the fabric of his long-sleeve. "I have to go now, Star Lord. But I think we should do this again...sometime." Peter's mind to screamed at him, to do something, kiss you, grab you and hold you back, asking you to join the Guardians, traveling through space with them but his body seemed detached, sabotaging every single wish whirling around his busy brain by simply standing there watching you walk away, his heart feeling the heavy crush of an unfair reality. With every other woman he randomly met during his adventures, he managed to hold up his smooth flirty demeanour which not only ended in him waking up in bed next to said woman but very often also in a lot of trouble. But you rendered him defenseless, all his careless flirts suddenly dissolved into thin air around you. You were more to him, his heart already clinging to you for dear life, leaving no room for anything else. He knew he had to see you again. As he made his way back to the Milano, he frowned at the image of you taking up every little space in his mind, ignoring Rocket's taunting as he went straight to his bunk, slumping down on the bed. Days turned into weeks, and Peter asked around in every port they landed at, hoping to find you after Cosmo told him that you left Knowhere one week after him. But it felt all in vain, it was as if you had vanished into thin air. Finally, as he sat alone on the bridge of his ship while the others roamed the local market, his fingers instinctively went into one of the bottom pockets of his jacket where they found a small piece of paper tucked and neatly folded. He unfolded the paper, not remembering when he ever would have put it there, let alone when he ever held real paper in his hands after he was abducted from Earth.

Meet me at the Quarantine zone in the Andromeda galaxy. See you soon Earthling.

Chapter 3

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 3x11 and 3x12 Past Tense thoughts (I'm re-watching, so there may be future spoilers)

Part One

Ohhh, I am Definitely looking forward to seeing this again

Learning the Rules of Acquisition is a strong move on Sisko's part

Jadzia is goood at cottoning on - bless this guy for telling her his assumptions

"And then we find our way home." *reassuring hand*. Ngl I'm living for Sisko's comforting touches

"Twenty first century history is not one of my strong points. Too depressing." It's pretty depressing as is - but I imagine it would be even harder for him as this is the period just after the Eugenics Wars where anti-augment sentiment would be at its peak. I wonder if that had anything to do with him avoiding learning about this point in history (and avoiding it must have been, if he knows this little).

"Then what did they do to deserve this?" "...Nothing." Don't mistake Sisko's knowledge of the situation as approval.

"Welcome to the 21st century doctor." ((Yea, I don't like it too much here either, Julian.))

That is the clunkiest of computers XD I always like seeing what people thirty years ago imagined computers would look like today!

"You mean my tattoos?" Girl you are smooooth.

Oof, the commercial before the guy could use the computer to look up the fingerprints - that's just a little too on the nose.

Jjulian's snarky "Thank you" and Sisko's soft touch warning Julian to not go any further into sarcasm. My heart <3

Sisko's sigh as he notices the date :o

Julian's mental health rant is so precious to me. I wonder if it is something more personal to him - imagining how Jules would have lived if he'd been born three-and-a-half centuries earlier.

"Not 'just in our time'!" He is so, rightfully, outraged and I love him for it.

"...if we are frightened enough, or desperate enough, how would we react? Would we stay true to our ideals?" I can't help thinking of the compromises Julian makes during Extreme Measures...

Sisko again having to hold Julian back <3 <3

The soft smiles between O'Brien and Kira after he says "I think I know a few likely candidates." And the way Odo looks back and forth between them like :o

Sisko looking after Julian and getting him breakfast is just so wholesome

"It can't hurt to just look."

Julian is just so gentle, my heart aches watching this <3

The sudden switch to the rich people's dinner is suitably jarring

The old starfleet two handed punch XD Haven't seen that one in a while!

Julian's so shaken by that fight

"We have to save them. Whatever it takes, we have to make sure those hostages survive." Sisko <3 <3 <3

I LOVE Kira's outfit

The amount of technobabble in this episode XD O'Brien is so good at delivering it

"That's five hundred people we've talked to today." Oh Julian just casually knew that, did he? HOW is the augment storyline not foreshadowed and planned in? Julian's constantly too clever!

"The name is Bell... Gabriel Bell." Chills. This line. So powerful. What an end to an episode.

Part Two

"You ever play any football?" "Baseball actually." It had to be mentioned in a 21st century episode.

"It's not just them I'm worried about, its you." This is such a Siskoshir episode, I love it

"My friends are in there." "I know they are, but there's nothing you can do for them." "I have to try." He doesn't understand her at all and I love that for her

I love how much of a tactician Sisko is and how easily he transfers all his skills to this situation

"I really think we should kill this guy." XD

"Why didn't you tell someone?" Why do you think?! there's that classic Julian naiveté. He still hasn't adapted to this century...

"It's not your fault that things are the way they are." "Everybody tells themselves that, and nothing ever changes." Damn. That is the toughest, most hard-hitting line... and still I'll probably continue to tell myself that and not change anything.

"I'm trying to save your life, and the lives of every hostage in that room. And mister, you are not making it easy." "If you're so concerned about our welfare, why don't you let us go?" "You don't know what any of this is about, do you?" The fact that Sisko is so angry on the behalf of people from a different time is just... Oh, I don't know. I forgot for a second there this isn't where he lives, he's not fighting for a personal cause, he's just fighting because it's the right thing to do.

"It would be a start." The emotion in his voice. I love you, Benjamin Sisko.

And now we take a short break to laugh at Miles and Kira <3

Miles' "uh-oh" XD

That is such an eighties photo of his family

"I do know that someday there won't be a need for a place like this." I don't think you're supposed to say that, but I love you for saying it anyway <3

JADZIA! She's so wonderful. Just casually breaking into a super dangerous place like it's nothing. You're the best <3

"You remember my friend Gabe?" Okay so that was smooth, I'm impressed.

"Sir, obviously Jadzia has got to leave. If something were to happen to her, it wouldn't take a doctor long to figure out she wasn't human." I thought was going to be the horrendously misogynistic because she's a woman line - I'm so glad I'm wrong 😅

"...But you're still going to need help to keep those hostages alive, and if it's all the same to you, I'll stay." Sisko's smile at that ^_^

For all Julian's talk about mental health, he's pretty uncomfortable around this guy. Bit disappointing. Maybe again because of the Jules thing hitting too close to home? But still.

"You are asking me to break the law." "I am asking you to give those people a voice." This is such a good line. Go Jadzia!

Big mobile flip phone. I was amused at how not 2020s it was until I remembered that flip phones have actually come back and they do keep getting bigger nowadays XD

"So what do we do with them?" "I don't know." "You could let us go." "All right." Well that was easy

"There is one more thing.... Tell people the truth about what happened here."

I love the way Julian talks with his hands always :3

"You know, Commander, having seen a little of the twenty first century there is one thing I don't understand. How could they have let things get so bad?" Same, Julian. Same.

Well these sure are episodes that hit hard in 2023. Damn. Damn.