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kangshxrtie · 3 days ago

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IRL LOADING | MEGAN SKIENDIEL

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ happy late birthday fic @zanaissante 💜 (this has been in my draft for months and is not proofread at all because my proofreaders abandoned me, but i just wanted to get this out of my drafts)

sypnosis — two streamers with widely different styles, a cozy gamer, and a chaotic fps streamer, unknowingly live next door to each other. pairing — streamer megan skiendiel x streamer reader trope/genre — one-sided enemies to lovers, fluff, idkmn includes — the rest of the katseye members, bang jeemin, park minju, sakai moka, and ryu sarang. word count — 9,411 words

you were live on stream, relaxing with a late-night stardew valley session when suddenly you heard loud shouting from the house next door, muffled but still impossible to ignore. you sighed, pausing your game for a moment. thankfully, your microphone wasn't sensitive enough to pick it up but loud enough to annoy you constantly.

you turned up your music, trying to drown out the loud noises, but every time your music would go quiet, the yelling crept back in. you knew they were gaming from the few words you could make it and by the sound of it they were losing.

you rolled your eyes, the frustration getting to you. "i swear, i hate my next-door neighbor so much," you muttered, leaning back in your chair as your character idly stood in the middle of the screen.

user1 are they still loud? user2 omg lmao what are they even doing user3 tell them off then?

you huffed, shaking your head. "like, i don't know what i did to deserve this, but they seem intent on keeping me up and pissing me off."

user4 yk damn well u weren't trying to sleep user5 bring us over when u confront them

"first of all," you said, glancing at the chat, "i was awake, but that's not the point. second, no, i'm not about to go knock on their door and tell them to shut up. do you think i wanna meet them?"

the yelling got louder for a split second, you could make out something about a headshot and a teammate being useless, and you groaned dramatically. "it can not be that serious!" you snapped, though, of course, they couldn't hear you.

user6 neighbor arc when? user7 chat, which neighbor are we rooting for? user8 can we pls get a neighbor face reveal??

you rolled your eyes again. "the only arc happening is me surviving the mines so i can go back home to my wife," you said, turning back to your screen.

your chat continued to spam messages about your neighbor, but you tried your best to tune them out, focusing on the game. you guided your character deeper into the mines, dodging slimes and breaking rocks, all while silently praying the noise from next door would miraculously stop. it didn't.

another loud yell came through the wall, this time followed by what sounded like a fist hitting a desk or maybe a keyboard. you froze mid-swing in the game, your pickaxe suspended above a chunk of ore.

"sometimes i genuinely worry about them," you muttered, "are they okay over there, or is this just their normal gaming routine?"

user9 maybe they're speedrunning rage-quitting user10 chat, we're neighbors now. we live here too

you sighed, finally killing the slime in front of you. "honestly, chat, i can't even be that mad because i do lowkey get it but at the same time you can't be doing this every night."

user11 imagine they hear you complaining 👀

"no way they heard me," you said, half to yourself, half to chat. you tilted your head, listening, but the yelling had turned into muffled talking. at least they were quieter now, though you weren't sure if it was actually over.

you decided to let it go, for now, focusing back on your game. but as your character planted a bomb to clear a path, you heard a loud cheer from the room.

"are you kidding me?!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands up. "now they're celebrating? chat, i swear this is a personal attack."

user12 neighbor won!! gg wp user13 imagine they're streaming too rn lol user14 what if they're here rn 👀

you scoffed. "i'd ban them so fast if they were here." you leaned closer to the mic for dramatic effect. "dear neighbor i hope you see this and i'm happy you won or whatever but please for the love of god, let me live in peace please."

the chat lost it, spamming laughing emojis and memes about your imaginary "neighbor war." you sighed, shaking your head but unable to suppress a small smile.

you managed to go down a few more floors deeper, the soothing rhythm of the game finally starting to calm your nerves. the occasional joke about how your neighbor still popped up in the chat, but the yelling had died down.

you glanced at the clock on your desk noticing it was getting late, and even though you weren't particularly tired, you decided to wrap things up for the night.

"alright, chat, i think that's it for tonight. thanks for hanging out and being with me during my suffering. hopefully, they're done and i'll be able to sleep tonight." you paused, raising an eyebrow. "but knowing my luck, that probably won't happen."

the chat flooded with goodbyes and scatter emotes as you ended the stream, turning off everything in your setup, and putting your pc to sleep. you leaned back in your chair, letting out a long sigh. at least they're done screaming for the night, you thought, but a small part of you wondered who could be making all that noise.

you shrugged it off for the night and did your night routine before climbing into bed. it seemed the person next door also had the same thoughts as you and had turned off everything for the night. you scrolled aimlessly through social media and caught up on a few messages. when your phone buzzed with a low-battery warning, you lazily plugged it into the charger, tossing it onto the nightstand with a soft thud, finally going to sleep for the night.

"are you coming with us to twitchcon?" jeemin asked, leaning against your desk.

"why would i?" you replied, raising a brow.

"uh, maybe to meet your fans? network? collab opportunities?" she listed, giving you a pointed look.

"if i say no, does that make me a terrible person?"

"i mean, technically no, but let’s be real; our fans are gonna be super disappointed if everyone but you shows up," she said with a shrug.

you groaned dramatically, pushing yourself up from your chair. "fine. but only for two days, max."

"perfect! oh, and i made sure your station is right next to mine—"

"wait. i already have a station, even though i just agreed?" you interrupted, tilting your head.

"you think you just agreed, but actually, you agreed weeks ago," jeemin grinned.

"you little—" you lunged at her, but she ran out of the room, shutting the door behind her before you could catch her.

sighing, you plopped back into your chair, deciding she wasn’t worth the chase, at least not right now.

that’s how you ended up at twitchcon and it actually ended up being not… terrible.

you’d spent most of the day at your booth, chatting with fans, signing stuff, and taking selfies. jeemin had been right—being surrounded by people who actually appreciated you was kind of nice. a little exhausting, sure, but still… kind of nice. you even caught yourself smiling without forcing it.

moka and sarang had dropped by with coffee and snacks, and minju kept stealing your sharpies to doodle on your sign-in board. fans came and went, some recognizing you instantly, others walking by and doing a dramatic double-take before squealing and rushing over.

around mid-afternoon, jeemin popped back in, dragging you and your group toward one of the mid-sized panel rooms. “c’mon, c’mon, we got looped into some crossover panel thing. it’s streamer mixer whatever.”

you weren’t really listening, just following her because you didn’t really have any other option. when you got there, the panel room was already filling up, and a few familiar names were posted on the digital signage outside.

katseye.

you knew of them, of course. everyone did. six girls, viral group content, chaotic energy, and practically unbeatable in every twitch trivia or game-night stream collab they ever did. you’d seen clips of them before.

the moment you stepped into the room, your group found your seats along the side of the stage setup. across from you, the katseye girls were already settling in, laughing about something yoonchae had just said. she spotted you first and gave you a warm smile and a small wave. you nodded back.

you all greeted each other, but then, there was megan, who happened to be sitting right across from you.

“i’ve been wanting to meet you,” she said brightly. “your streams are so chill. like, perfect background noise while i’m editing.”

“uh. thanks?”

“no, i mean that in a good way! like—soothing. you sound like a podcast host who secretly hates people.”

you raised an eyebrow, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult. “cool.”

“you’re kinda like the human version of beige. but like, cozy beige.”

“beige?” you paused.

“yeah! you give off that neutral, calm vibe,” megan nodded enthusiastically.

“beige,” you stared at her.

“like i said—cozy beige!”

“i swear to god if one more person calls me beige—” you rolled your eyes.

“oh my god. that made you mad?” megan’s eyes lit up as you didn’t respond.

“you are beige, but like, spicy beige,” she grinned wider.

and that, somehow, was the start of your personal hell.

megan and y/n fighting/flirting at the streamer q&a panel

“okay! first question—what’s your biggest streaming pet peeve?” the moderator asked.

you grabbed your mic. “people who are too loud on the mic. like… calm down, we can hear you.”

“was that about me?” megan immediately whipped her head around.

“if you felt like it was, it was.” you didn’t even look at her.

“wow. so brave of you to call me out when you look like you'd apologize to a tree if you bumped into it.” megan gasped, hand to her chest.

“i have apologized to a tree before. it was being more useful than you,” you side-eyed her.

“are they flirting or fighting?” yoonchae asked the group. yoonchae asking the important questions.

“yes,” sarang simply responded.

“have you ever rage quit on stream?” a fan asked.

“once. but i muted, ended stream politely, and just closed my laptop. like a normal person.” you said.

“i’ve thrown a controller and screamed into a pillow while my mic was still on,” megan turned to you. “we’d balance each other out, you know?”

“absolutely not,” you said.

“it’s giving opposites attract,” yoonchae said.

the audience was all screaming.

“should we leave so y'all can kiss or—” sarang looked around.

“no!” you exclaimed.

user1 someone tell them this is twitchcon not love island: streamer edition user2 someone get them a couple channel user3 y/n: 😐 megan: 😏

“if you had to be in a stream house with three people from this panel, who are you picking?” a fan asked.

“easy. yoonchae, lara… and y/n,” megan answered.

“i would fake my death within a week,” you immediately shot back,

“great! we could make it a stream arc—‘y/n goes missing: day 4,’” megan smiled.

“should i be worried or are you two just always like this?” the moderator laughed. “this is them… after knowing each other for an hour,” sarang said into her mic. “imagine a week,” jeemin cut in.

“do any of you have secret streamer crushes?” a fan asked.

“should i say it or keep the mystery alive?” megan slowly turned to look at you.

“say it and i walk off this stage,” you said.

“so dramatic. that’s why i like you,” megan smiled sweetly.

“i’m going to pretend i didn’t hear that,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

“you're not denying it though…” moka looked at you. “so when’s the wedding?” sarang asked.

“we should’ve made this panel r-rated, there’s so much tension,” sophia said to the moderator.

“last one—if you had to be stuck in a collab for 24 hours with someone on this panel, who would it be?” the moderator asked.

“literally anyone except megan,” you said, without even thinking about it.

megan clutched her heart. “you wound me.” then, she smiled way too sweetly. “i’d still pick you.”

“why?” you looked at her in disbelief.

“it’s fun watching you try not to like me,” megan shrugged.

the entire room lost it.

“no, because y’all are soulmates,” lara said, not even trying to hold back her laughter.

“please don’t ever wish anything like that on me,” you said.

user5 they’re so married user6 i need a cam angle just on them pls user7 they think we’re joking but we’re already editing their wedding video rn

throughout the panel, she wouldn’t stop talking to you—whispering jokes during questions, making weird eye contact, and poking fun at the serious way you answered things. every time she made a jab, you shot her a look. every time you glared, she just giggled harder.

to everyone else, it looked like harmless banter. to you, it felt like emotional whiplash.

by the time the panel ended, the chat had already started blowing up. even though you weren’t streaming, someone was, and clips were spreading fast. megan teasing you, you glaring at her, her dramatically gasping and pretending to be offended.

“oh my god,” jeemin said, nudging you, “you and megan are like a sitcom.”

“i cannot stand her,” you grumbled, grabbing your water bottle.

“she loves you, though,” sarang said, half-laughing. “you’re her new toy.”

“she can find another one.”

“she won’t.”

“too late. there’s already an edit of you two arguing with romantic music in the background,” moka said, like she could already see the edits in her head.

“this is my villain origin story,” you groaned loudly.

from across the room, megan caught your eye and waved cheerfully.

you turned away and jeemin just laughed like shit was funny. “you’re so cooked.”

“can we leave soon?” you asked. “unfortunately, not. there’s still more to the panel,” minju said. “i’m gonna kill myself on this stage,” you groaned as you slid into your seat.

“i mean, imagine the views,” moka said. “no, don’t encourage her,” sarang said. “i mean, no, don’t kill yourself,” moka said. you just groaned again in response. you thought that day would be the end of it. you and megan didn’t really have a reason to overlap, you didn’t play similar games, you gave off different vibes, and you didn’t think you had a similar audience, and people would just forget about the situation. oh, how wrong you were.

the next day, you were hanging out at moka’s station for her mini meet and greet, helping manage the line and chatting with a few fans who recognized you.

“your cozy streams are literally the only reason i finish my homework,” one fan told you. “thank you for single-handedly saving my gpa,” another added with a laugh.

“honestly, if i’m your academic lifeline, we’re both cooked,” you joked, posing for a selfie with them.

after a few more photos and quick conversations, you stepped to the side to grab a drink, and that’s when you spotted them. manon, sophia, daniela, megan, lara, and yoonchae. all casually walking toward you like they weren’t as famous as they were.

“we should collab,” manon said brightly as she approached.

“i’d be so down,” you replied.

“collab with me first, though,” sophia cut in.

“well,” you said, playing along, “my loyalties lie with the person who asked first.”

“lowkey, i’d collab with all of you,” you added. “we just gotta make it happen.”

“what about me?” megan asked suddenly as she stepped forward.

“what about you?” you looked at her.

“so you’ll collab with my roommates, but not me?” megan said, raising a brow. “you know we play the same games, right?”

“i never had a problem with the games you play,” you said coolly. “my problem is with you.”

“i see how it is,” megan nodded, not even pretending to be offended.

“i’ve been telling you how it is,” you shot back.

“you two are seriously unreal,” daniela muttered.

“no, like—is this foreplay or are we fighting?” lara added, squinting at both of you with mock suspicion.

“it’s hard to tell,” yoonchae said under her breath, but not quietly enough.

you opened your mouth to respond, but megan spoke first.

“don’t worry, she only talks to me like this because she’s obsessed with me.”

“obsessed with making sure i never share a stream with you,” you corrected, smiling sweetly.

“oop,” sophia whispered, sipping from a water bottle.

“so when’s the wedding?” manon said with a smirk.

“you guys are worse than my chat,” you groaned.

“your chat ships it too?” daniela asked, eyes lighting up.

“unfortunately,” you said. “they’re like ‘the chaos x cozy arc goes crazy’ like please stop it’s not happening.”

“that’s so cute,” megan said, tilting her head mockingly. “almost makes me want to be nice to you.”

“don’t strain yourself,” you deadpanned.

“okay, but seriously,” sophia said, trying to keep it together, “if you did collab, the internet would lose its mind.”

“i’d rather collab with a creeper in minecraft,” you muttered.

“so that’s a yes,” megan grinned.

“can you not hear?” “all i heard was yes,” “you gotta get whatever is wrong with you figured out,” you said. “i think you could fix all my problems,” megan said. “yeah i’m leaving” you said as you turned around. “megan scaring away the hoes,” lara joked. “she likes that about me,” megan said.

the rest of the con went fine. thankfully, your schedules barely overlapped, so you didn’t have to see megan again.

which, in your mind, meant the bit was over.

except it wasn’t.

because the moment you went live back home, your chat had one thing on their minds.

“why do y’all want me to collab with megan so bad?” you asked, already exhausted. “we don’t even play the same games.”

user1 because of the potential user2 we see what you won’t user3 give the people what they want

meanwhile, over on megan’s stream:

“i’ll collab with y/n. i’m just waiting on her to agree,” she said with a shrug.

user4 do u like her y/n “if i say yes, do you think she’ll finally accept?” megan replied, grinning.

user5 you should just show up in one of her games

“i think that would make her hate me more,” megan laughed.

user6 we won’t snitch “y’all, i swear i’m trying,” she said. “but i can’t force her to do it.”

user7 plssss we need this

back on your stream, you rolled your eyes.

“i hope megan knows i’m not falling for any of this,” you said flatly.

user8 what’d she do this time? i’m employed.

“there’s a clip of her doing a full-on proposal for our collab,” you deadpanned. “i’ll just pull it up here so y’all don’t have to go interact with it yourselves.”

you dragged the clip onto the screen and hit play—megan on her stream, down on one knee with a ring pop and dramatic background music, asking you to be her “stream partner in crime.”

you blinked at your own screen. “…she’s ridiculous.”

user9 and u love it user10 just marry her atp user11 the chaos x cozy arc continues

“y’all are fucking crazy,” you mumbled at your chat encouraging this behavior.

you were walking back toward your house, casually flipping through the mail, when you suddenly heard your name being called.

“y/n!”

you paused, confused. everyone you knew in this neighborhood was currently inside your house—so who the hell could be calling you?

“y/n!” the voice echoed again, this time to your right. you looked up, and your eyes landed on a familiar face walking toward you.

“ain’t no way,” you muttered.

“i thought that was you,” megan said with a grin, finally close enough for you to see her clearly.

“do you… live there?” she asked, pointing at your house.

“umm… yeah,” you said slowly, still processing.

“that’s crazy. i live right there,” she said, gesturing at the house next door. the house you’ve been building a silent, growing hatred for over the past few months because of your loud neighbor, which makes so much sense now.

“i see,” you replied, resisting the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes.

“can’t believe we’ve never run into each other before,” megan said, hands on her hips.

“yeah. that’s so crazy,” you deadpanned.

“this makes our collab way easier now,” she added with a bright smile.

“who said i agreed to a collab?” you asked, brow raised.

“you should. people love seeing us together,” megan shrugged.

“well, i don’t like being seen with you,” you fired back.

“y’know, you really do hurt me sometimes, y/n,” megan said, mock-offended.

“too bad i really don’t care,” you said, completely unfazed.

“i’m starting to think you actually mean that,” megan said with a pout.

“because i do,” you replied.

“mhm,” megan nodded like she hadn’t heard a single word, still smiling.

“well, if we’re done here, i’m leaving,” you sighed.

you turned and headed for your door, not giving her a chance to respond.

“see you later, y/n!” she shouted after you.

“i hate my fucking life!” you yelled as you slammed the door behind you.

“wait… megan as in megan-megan?” moka asked, sitting up straighter.

“streamer megan? chinese ginger, megan? beef-at-twitchcon megan?” minju added.

“yes! all of the above!” you cried.

“you mean to tell me... katseye lives next door?” sarang gasped dramatically.

“deadass.”

“this is amazing,” moka whispered.

“no, this is a nightmare,” you corrected.

“what did she say?” minju covered her mouth, trying and failing not to laugh.

“she asked if i lived here, then told me she lives next door like it was the funniest thing ever. and then… she tried to act like this means our collab is suddenly destiny or something.”

“she’s not wrong,” sarang muttered.

“don’t you start.” you turned towards her.

“oh, i’m starting. i’m just like chat now,” sarang said smugly.

“no,” you warned.

“yes,” moka grinned, already opening twitter. “and if you don’t collab, i will start tweeting about how you're ignoring your soulmate.”

“if you start encouraging those people, i swear i’m ending it all,” you groaned, flopping face-down into a throw pillow.

“no, don’t kill yourself,” jeemin chimed in, casually walking into the living room with a snack. “you’re too pretty.”

you slowly lifted your head. “…thanks, i guess?”

“plus, if you died, megan would totally dedicate a stream to you, and i feel like that would haunt you more than the afterlife,” jeemin added, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“can you imagine the title?” minju said. “‘a tribute to the one that got away.’”

“no. no, absolutely not,” you said, horrified. “she’d put sad lo-fi over a compilation of us arguing.”

“honestly? that’d slap,” moka said. “i’d retweet.”

“why are you all like this?” you groaned, dragging the pillow over your face.

“because we care,” sarang said sweetly, patting your back.

“we just want to see this all happen live,” minju added.

“this is a sick friend group,” you sat up, glaring at all of them.

“sick with love,” moka said dramatically, clutching her chest.

“i’m moving,” you said.

“go ahead,” jeemin said. “just know you can’t deny fate.”

“god, i hate this timeline,” you muttered.

“you mean the one where you're the main character in a fanfic happening in real life?” sarang teased, and you threw a pillow at her.

the next day, you were immediately on stream, ready to rant to them as soon as your stream starting soon screen went away.

"y’all—funny story. i met my next-door neighbor yesterday," you started.

user1 the one you hate??? user2 did you finally cuss her out??

"no listen—when i say i meant that shit before, i mean it even more now," you said, leaning closer to the mic. "she’s still annoying as hell and needs to either quiet that shit down or invest in soundproof walls immediately."

user3 a woman??? user4 okay but… was she pretty? 👀

"it’s megan, bro. i leave that damn convention just to come home and deal with her more," you groaned. "there’s no escape."

user5 meant to be ❤️ user6 she doesn’t even realize what she just unleashed by telling us this

"y’all need to chill because i’m not willingly collabing with that girl,” you rolled your eyes.

user7 get peer pressureduser8 we js want content 🫶

"i should’ve never said anything," you muttered as you buried your face in your hands. "y’all are wild."

user9 how many gifted subs user0 anyway when’s the collab?

you stared at the screen for a long moment.

“…i hate all of you,” you whispered.

and the clip was already going viral within an hour.

you were in a situation. manon and sophia both asked you to join a 2v2 with some other people, and you said yes without even thinking—because now, you were in a discord server with manon, sophia, minju, jeemin and megan.

“i don’t even think i have any of those games downloaded,” you said.

“well, download them so we can play,” manon replied.

“what if my internet just goes out?” you tried.

“you can just come over, we have an extra room,” sophia offered casually.

“i really wish i never found out we lived next door to each other,” you sighed, already regretting everything. still, you ended up downloading the games anyway while everyone else got situated.

eventually, it was time to split into teams, and sophia insisted on using a wheel to make it fair. you were picked first. all you could do was sit there in silence, praying the wheel would land on somebody good. but then, it landed on megan.

“i’m leaving,” you said immediately.

“this is perfect,” jeemin cheered.

“i’ve been set up,” you muttered.

“this wasn’t even on purpose, but i like how this turned out,” sophia said, clearly way too amused.

“why am i the only one who has to suffer?” you asked.

“come on, y/n, i’ll carry you,” megan said confidently.

“i’ve lived next door to you for months, and i don’t think i’ve ever once heard you yell because you won,” you shot back.

“not gonna lie, she kinda ate you up with that,” manon laughed.

“nahh, trust—i’m just always loud,” megan grinned.

“oh, i know,” you deadpanned.

but despite your protests, you stayed. mostly because you felt bad ditching everyone after already agreeing to play. the other teams ended up being sophia with manon, and jeemin with minju.

“if anything, i’m the one who’s cooked, because y/n doesn’t even play fortnite,” megan pointed out.

“i had a fortnite phase back in the day,” you admitted.

“don’t you play stuff like stardew valley and animal crossing?” megan asked.

“and occasionally league, because minju loves to torture me,” you added.

“i promise it’s fun,” minju said.

“she keeps saying that, but i’ve never once had fun playing league,” you said.

“it’ll get fun eventually,” minju insisted.

eventually, everyone got the game up and running, and after adding each other, you joined a private lobby sophia made for a specific fortnite mode.

“i mean, round one begins—i’d vote for the weapons,” sophia said.

“okay, i’ll vote blue, okay okay,” megan chimed in.

“okay, let’s go in the same circle,” manon added.

“perfect, perfect,” you agreed.

“can we pick up weapons or not?” minju asked.

“yeah, yeah,” you said.

“yeah, we have weapons,” jeemin confirmed.

“what button is my—oh, there it is,” you mumbled, finally finding your loadout.

“oh god, there’s building,” manon said, already overwhelmed.

“i don’t know how to build,” jeemin added.

“i hate building,” sophia grumbled.

“building is actually so cringe,” minju said flatly.

meanwhile, you were too busy breaking the bottom of their towers, watching them fall as you shot from below like it was nothing.

“wait, so who’s alive now?” megan asked.

“i’m dead,” jeemin replied.

you pushed up on sophia and manon, who were panicking and building walls around themselves like it would save them.

“um, hey, you guys are still in the storm,” you pointed out.

“wait, is it just me? i can’t see who’s left,” megan said.

“oh—i found them!” megan called as the two of you descended, unleashing a spray of bullets.

apparently, you and megan were the only two people who actually knew how to build, and it showed. the way you both built and outmaneuvered the others was almost unfair.

“this is sick,” minju said while spectating.

“megan actually knows how to build!” manon cried, fighting for her life.

you and megan cleaned them up and won that round easily.

“i still got it!” megan shouted.

“alright, minju—you have to build now. i don’t know what i’m doing,” jeemin said, already stressed.

“yeah, i can do that,” minju agreed.

“these guns are not good. i think,” manon muttered.

you and megan began collecting weapons for the next round.

“oh, you got the sword,” you said, eyeing it.

“here, you can have it. i don’t know what to do with it,” megan said, dropping it.

“wait—really?” you blinked.

“you got that,” she replied.

the next round kicked off.

“oh my god, you built me in! i’m in the storm!” jeemin screamed.

“sorry! i didn’t realize,” minju said quickly.

“okay,” sophia cut in, “everyone needs to go into separate calls. we’re playing until round ten and that’s it.”

“where are they?” megan asked you.

“they’re still in the storm,” you said.

you and megan won that round too. no surprise there.

“they’re so mad,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips.

“mad and bad,” megan added smugly.

“i’ve just been building and editing—i didn’t even know i could still do that,” you said.

“i swear it’s like muscle memory once you remember the buttons,” megan agreed.

“you just keep taking the best guns,” you said.

“i mean, it is what it is. someone’s gotta carry us,” megan said with a smirk.

“wait, how do i fly?” you asked no one in particular as the next round began. you fiddled with your sword until you finally launched yourself across the map, landing behind the structure.

you accidentally swung the sword midair behind the enemy but missed. no one noticed.

“oh—oops,” you mumbled.

“oh, you’re just in,” megan said as you finally downed jeemin, then minju when she ran over.

you locked in, aiming carefully. “they’re below you,” you told megan as you shot to cover her.

“now they’re above you—actually, hold on, i don’t know who’s who,” you said, squinting.

“i don’t know where they’re at,” megan said.

“i’m coming up to you,” you told her, quickly building toward her position.

together, you finished off the last two.

“i’m trying to figure out how to do things,” megan muttered.

“i just wanna use material and i keep attacking with the sword for some reason,” you said.

“i don’t know if this is gonna be fair,” megan said with a slight laugh.

“i mean… yeah,” you agreed as the round loaded up.

“okay, so maybe we just get—” megan started.

“i’m just gonna go above them,” you finished for her.

“we’re literally just better than them,” megan said, locking in.

“i’m just above them,” you said as you laughed, raining shots down.

“wait—holy shit!” megan yelled as she got jumped.

“i think i kinda like building now,” you said as you stayed high up, watching the chaos below.

“one’s below us,” you warned.

“i might be in danger,” megan said.

“nah, you got it,” you said casually.

“i’m just gonna pop a little—” megan mumbled, healing behind cover.

suddenly, manon joined your voice chat.

“hey guys, we’re implementing a new rule: you’re not allowed to build with anything other than wood,” she announced.

you and megan burst out laughing right as you landed the final shot, winning again.

“okay, okay—nothing other than wood, right?” you asked.

“okay yeah, i mean—i don’t know if it’s gonna change anything but,” megan said, trying not to laugh.

“don’t worry about it. it’s fine, sweetheart,” you said cheekily. “literally just games for fun.”

you and megan continued dominating through round after round.

“okay, that was easy,” megan said. “that was pretty good.”

“yeah, i think they’re starting to get their placements now,” you said.

“so… one more?” megan asked.

“yeah. i think this is the last game,” you said, ready to finish things off

“okay, um… jeemin’s gonna do the same thing—build and survive—and we’ll pickaxe her to death,” megan announced.

“i feel like you’re not gonna do that,” you replied while laughing.

“there’s people crying in my chat right now,” you said, glancing at your screen. “they’re so upset. “they’re like, ‘guys, stop being so cracked at the game!’” “it must be tough being good at everything,” megan teased. “like, sorry we’re amazing?”

“okay okay,” you said. “if we’re just in the middle, everyone’s gonna push us instantly.”

“all right, here we go—oops,” megan muttered.

“if i use the glider, do i just walk off the edge with it? is that how it works?” megan asked.

“yeah... well, i actually don’t know,” you admitted. “i don’t really use the glider.” “cool. great,” megan said. “guess i’m about to fall.”

“oh—our build is being shot down!” megan shouted. “it’s pretty thick though, not gonna lie,” you said. “we’re both still up—okay that’s good.”

“they’re merciless,” megan yelled. “ah—this is my glider—no!” “did it not work?” you asked. “i’m down,” you said.

“i’m coming down,” megan said. “wait—are you below?” “yeah, yeah—you can rez me. i’m underneath in the zone—they don’t know.” megan rezzed you safely.

“i have a chug! let me use it now,” you told her.

“okay, nice,” she said.

“this thing chugs way slower than i remember. we gotta get a move on,” you said.

“boom—oh, someone just fell,” megan said.

“i think it’s down to the last two teams,” you added.

“darn it—i’m bad,” she muttered.

“where are they?” you asked. “wait—i thought they were... oh yeah. they’re right next to me. down below.”

“they’re shooting at you,” megan said.

“i’m gonna try and pickaxe them,” megan said confidently.

“well, well, well,” minju sighed as she suddenly joined your call. “if it isn’t the pickaxer herself.”

“they’re right above me, and they just keep staring at you,” megan whispered from behind enemy lines.

“they don’t even know,” you murmured, eyes locked on the build.

“oh my god—who is this?” megan cackled as she pickaxed someone completely oblivious to her presence.

still laughing, she continued swinging wildly at another player who was jumping around cluelessly.

“what is happening?” sophia wheezed through her mic.

“yeah, that’s funny,” megan said, finally catching her breath.

“okay, that was good. that was pretty good,” you said, grinning.

“alright, it’s over—time to die,” megan announced gleefully as she leapt down into the chaos.

“might be about that time,” you agreed, loading your last clip.

“this is just messed up,” manon muttered from another call.

“sooo… is it over?” megan asked. “or like—is there another round?”

“congratulations, you guys,” sophia said, mock-bitter.

“ggs, ggs,” jeemin added, exhausted.

“y/n and megan are literally unstoppable. i hate it here,” minju groaned.

“what can i say?” megan said smugly. “we build. we shoot. we conquer.”

“it’s called teamwork,” you added. “or trauma bonding. one of those.”

you all moved on to the next game: golf with your friends. for this one each team’s total strokes were added together and whoever had the lowest combined score won.

“alright, what’s the plan here?” manon asked as the first hole loaded in.

“figure out your own strat,” megan replied immediately.

“bitch,” manon muttered.

“fuck, why didn’t i jump there?” jeemin groaned.

“i’m sad i didn’t get it in one,” minju sighed.

“it looked so easy, too,” sophia added.

despite a few stumbles, most of you made it in with one or two hits. a clean par.

next hole.

“okay, this one’s free,” you said, eyeing the map. “just two hills and a straight shot. easy hole-in-one.”

“how much power though?” jeemin asked.

“didn’t get the one,” manon reported. “took me two.”

jeemin finally figured out the angle, but just as she was about to roll in. “who the fuck—minju?!”

“that was me. my bad,” minju admitted.

“easy hole-in-one,” sophia cheered as she sank hers.

“so easy,” megan echoed smugly.

“ugh, fine, 2.5 power,” minju said, lining up. “too much!”

you took your shot with a clean 2.0—hole-in-one.

“oh, you can jump that,” sophia said as the next hole loaded.

“wait, we can jump?” manon asked, trying it—and missing. “i’m tilted.”

“megan’s got three hole-in-ones in a row,” you pointed out.

“tried to tell y’all she has, like, 500 hours in this game,” manon said.

“i don’t,” megan replied, way too casually.

“2.5 is too much!” jeemin yelled as she overshot again.

“way too much,” you echoed.

“would love it if someone knocked me in right about now,” minju muttered, stuck just outside the hole.

“i got you!” jeemin said, lining up—then immediately shouted, “oh my god, minju!”

when you reached the hole, you just saw both of their balls sitting awkwardly on opposite sides of the cup.

“we take those,” you said, tapping in for par.

the next map loaded.

“this one’s so simple,” megan said confidently, eyeing the layout.

“haha, you’re stupid,” sophia said after megan immediately missed the shot.

“oh my god, i got it!” jeemin shouted.

“what’s the power?” minju asked.

“2.5 always,” jeemin declared.

“oh my god, i hit megan,” minju groaned mid-shot.

you moved on after everyone finally got in.

“oof, this one looks rough,” sophia said, eyeing the new map.

“it’s jumpable, right?” megan asked.

“it’s not jumpable, stop lying to me,” manon said.

“it is jumpable,” you said as you made it in. “you just jump right before the spike.”

“you can’t help the enemies,” megan scolded. “why’d i actually forget we’re on different teams?” you laughed. “damn,” sophia muttered after bouncing off the wall.

“that was a weird angle,” manon said, spectating with a grin.

“you hate to see it,” sophia sighed, realizing everyone else had already made it in.

“is this salvageable?” manon asked.

“for sure,” megan said just as sophia launched completely off course again.

“oh no…” sophia groaned.

“again,” minju deadpanned.

sophia shot again… and missed. again.

“ooh yeah, one more time,” minju laughed.

“please, sophia, get it together. i know you’re not drunk,” megan said.

“this is actually insane,” jeemin said.

“this map is not mapping,” sophia huffed.

“who is cackling like that?” manon wheezed. “it’s not that funny!”

“no fucking way,” sophia whispered after seeing her name at the very bottom of the leaderboard.

you all moved onto the next hole.

“yeah, just a little nudge,” jeemin said.

“ahhh—jeemin why the fuck would you hit me out?!” minju shrieked after getting bumped mid-shot.

“i’m playing defense,” jeemin laughed.

“we’re on the same team!” minju cried.

“it was an accident!” jeemin tried to apologize, still giggling.

“i demand two points taken off my score,” minju grumbled as she lined up again—then undershot the easiest shot of the round.

“did you even hit your ball?” manon asked through laughter.

“i should’ve had that in way less,” minju muttered. “but nooo—jeemin had to go full contact.”

on the second to late hole, it was setup to be a simple one shot if not for the speed pads in the way.

“this one’s easy—you just jump it,” you said confidently.

“oh, that went so far,” manon said after launching across the map.

“fuck—i didn’t jump,” megan said..

“one job,” you said flatly.

“yeah, way too hard,” minju added.

“i’m gonna kill myself,” manon said dramatically as her ball got stuck bouncing between pads.

you waited, watching the mess unfold, before finally taking your shot.

“eughh. i’m good,” you said as you maneuvered over the pads, carefully jumping your way through.

“that’s crazy,” jeemin said from the other side of the hole. she had just rolled straight over it and landed right in front of you.

“after you,” you offered, not wanting to mess up your shot.

“jump it,” jeemin dared you.

and if there’s one thing you don’t do—it’s back down from a dare. you lined up, jumped and overshot it completely.

“y/n?” sophia asked, stunned.

you just laughed.

“you did that on purpose jeemin,” megan accused.

you worked your way back, nearly getting it in four, missed by inches, then sank it on five.

“i overcompensated for jeemin’s ball,” you said with a sigh.

on the final hole there was a speed pad that would safely carry your ball to a second building… but of course, the group was focused on skipping it.

“no—how did you make it over and i didn’t?!” sophia complained.

“i can jump! yes—logs, bring me to my friends!” minju shouted as rolling logs gently carried her across the map.

“this is doable. totally possible,” manon hyped herself up… then immediately slammed into a wall. “okay, i’m gonna fucking—"

“i got baited,” sophia moaned. “i saw megan do it, now i can’t.”

eventually, one by one, everyone made it in.

in the end, the final scores shook out like this:

megan took first with a clean 38, manon followed in second with 40, you landed third at 44, jeemin placed fourth with 46, minju came in fifth at 48, and sophia, well… she rounded it out in last with 67.

when the team totals were tallied: you and megan took first with a combined 82, jeemin and minju trailed behind in second at 94, and manon and sophia came in last with a whopping 107.

“sophia… what happened?” manon asked, eyebrows raised, genuinely confused.

“yeah, yeah—it just wasn’t my day,” sophia sighed, already leaning back in defeat.

“it never is with that aim,” megan added with a smirk.

“you’re lucky we weren’t playing for money,” sophia muttered.

“i could only carry us so far,” manon said with a dramatic shrug.

“we were actually so close though,” minju said, staring at the scores.

“i hate to say it… but me and megan do make a pretty good team,” you admitted.

“she admits she likes me,” megan said immediately, beaming.

“i ain’t say all that now,” you shot back.

“but there’s a chance i’m convincing you,” megan teased.

“i just said you’re not bad at games,” you said.

“i could show you how good i am if you played with me more,” megan said.

“she’s getting a little too cocky. i gotta go,” you said already ready to turn off your computer.

“we have to run that back,” jeemin cut in.

“as long as i’m on the same team as y/n, i’m down,” megan grinned.

“we can definitely make that happen,” manon said.

“why do you insist on torturing me?” you groaned.

“just giving the people what they want,” manon replied.

you weren’t really sure how it happened, but eventually everyone left the call—except you and megan. you probably should’ve left way earlier, but now that you thought about it, you didn’t actually have a real problem with her. in fact, the way you two talked was kind of… fun. maybe everyone was onto something. maybe you and megan would make great friends.

“the rest of my members are loud, but you only hate me?” megan asked.

“yes,” you answered without hesitation.

“sophia and dani are literally louder than me.”

“i never said i hated loud people. i just don’t like you,” you shrugged.

“maybe it should’ve been you and yoonchae instead.”

“i heard yoonchae doesn’t like you either, so you might be right.”

“okay, but now yoonchae loves me. that’ll be us soon.”

“god forbid,” you said like it was the worst-case scenario.

megan just laughed in response.

“wait, y/n—can we play this game that keeps popping up on my steam page?” she asked.

“what’s it called?”

“i’m about to send it to you.”

you clicked the link she sent and stared at the page.

“why are you trying to make me play a crypto mining game?”

“this isn’t crypto mining,” megan said, already laughing.

“this game looks so sus.”

“i’m pretty sure it’s fine!”

“why are y’all still here?” sophia’s voice suddenly cut in.

“we’re about to play another game,” megan replied.

“sophia, help me. she’s trying to make me play some crypto mining game,” you said.

“i keep saying it’s not crypto mining!” megan said, half-laughing, half-defensive.

“this game is definitely gonna be running mining software in the background,” you muttered.

“i thought it looked cute,” megan pouted.

“for the sake of both of our computers, we should probably play something else.”

“i’m fine with anything… as long as it’s with you,” megan said smoothly.

“don’t flirt with me,” you warned.

“i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then,” sophia said. honestly, you’d kind of forgotten she was still in the call.

“wait… megan, can we play gta?” you asked, already opening the game.

“that’s your game of choice for tonight?” she laughed.

“yes. i haven’t played in forever and it just updated. i wanna see what’s new.”

“i mean, yeah man,” megan agreed. “let’s see if you’re actually good at it though.”

“please,” you scoffed. “i have so many hours on this game for a reason.”

once you loaded into gta online, it was pure, unfiltered chaos. explosions rang out in the distance, npcs screamed in panic, and you barely spawned before someone tried to run you over. some random guy in global chat was yelling at somebody and trying to kill them.

you and megan somehow landed in a street race.

“this is the time when you wanna put all your points on the line,” she told her stream, sounding like a dramatic sports commentator.

of course you won the race, causing everybody who actually voted for megan to lose their points.

“i’m so sorry to everyone who believed in me,” megan said flatly, groaning as the results popped up. “that was actually embarrassing.”

“skill issue, honestly.”

you kept teasing her even after you exited the race, so she walked up and shot you in the back of the head, so casually.

“oh, it’s like that?” you said, respawning.

“i didn’t know it would kill you!” she laughed.

“no, no—it’s personal now.”

that one bullet kicked off a full-on vendetta. the next hour turned into a mess of one-sided assassinations and high-speed chases between just the two of you. she blew up your car. you put a bounty on her head. neither of you could stop laughing.

“somebody just said, ‘y/n’s so hot,’” you read aloud from your stream chat, breathing hard from surviving a three-star police chase. “buddy, now is not the time.”

“i mean,” megan said, “i kind of agree.”

“don’t flirt with me right now. i’m trying to kill you.”

“sorry, sorry,” she said, chuckling. “but that just makes you hotter.”

at some point, the chaos around you got worse. some sniper kept picking you off as soon as you spawned. you and megan silently agreed on a ruce just to hunt them down. it was weird how easily the teamwork clicked. you flanked while she drew fire. you covered while she reloaded. you didn’t even have to speak half the time.

then you bought a helicopter to finally get the upper hand on everyone.

“let me drive,” megan said.

“god help us.”

everything was fine for about two minutes—until she asked, “what does g do?”

before you could even respond, the helicopter jolted midair and nosedived into a mountain. it exploded on impact.

you stared at your screen, dead silent.

“…megan,” you said, monotone. “what the fuck did you do with my helicopter?”

“i was just pressing buttons! you didn’t say not to press g!”

“i didn’t think i had to!”

“i didn’t know it was the self-destruct!” she cackled.

“oh my god. we’re family friendly over here,” you muttered, jaw clenched. “but i’m about to break something.”

“it’s fine, you can just spawn another—”

“i can’t. it’s gone. i can’t even call it back.”

“okay okay, i’ll steal someone else’s.”

hours passed, but it didn’t feel like it. you robbed convenience stores, broke into military bases, ran from the cops on motorbikes. there were moments you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts from how hard you were both laughing.

“you’re actually cracked at these type of games,” megan admitted at one point.

“you’re just saying that because i carried.”

“and because you look hot when you’re focused,” she added.

“have you had my stream pulled up this whole time?” you asked. “i just had to make sure you weren’t talking shit about me,” megan said. “oh—you didn’t have to do that megan. i would’ve just told you,” you said. “i also just like looking over at you now, i could get used to this,” megan said.

“you’re so unserious,” you muttered, trying not to smile.

but… you didn’t necessarily hate it anymore.

you didn’t realize how long you'd been playing until the city on your screen went quiet and megan yawned on the other end of the call.

“damn. what time is it?” she mumbled.

you glanced at your phone. “almost four.”

she went quiet. “we’ve really been on here that long?”

“guess so.”

“why was that actually fun?”

you didn’t answer right away. your character stood on top of some random apartment building, the pixelated city lights stretching behind.

“…i don’t know,” you said. “but we should do it again.”

“next time i won’t blow up your helicopter,” megan’s voice was soft through the mic.

“you’re not even touching my helicopter next time.”

“that’s what you think,” megan said. “night, megan,” you said.

“goodnight, y/n.”

that one night had changed everything. you and megan started gaming together more—sometimes on stream, sometimes just the two of you. she kept up the teasing, still flirty as ever, but now you threw it right back. and every time she got flustered, you made sure to point it out.

your chat ate it up. they called it the ultimate enemies-to-lovers arc. said they’d been right about you two from the beginning. if you were being honest you also enjoyed how your dynamic was now.

like right now, you were telling a story about last night on stream.

“so i was just trying to sleep last night, right? and here comes megan knocking on my window because i wasn’t answering her texts about playing roblox.”

user1 ??? user2 MEGAN

“i swear to god, i ignored it at first because i thought it was like... some random ass person. or one of those freaky monsters from from.”

user3 KEKW user4 AIN’T NO WAY

“then i check my phone and realize she’d been texting me nonstop—and this girl literally sent me a selfie from outside my window.”

you paused for dramatic effect. “so now i’m up to open my window and megan’s just standing there pouting because she was cold.”

“like, maybe don’t stand outside my house at 1am, bestie?” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

user5 nahh megan’s so cute for that user6 y/n loves this

“anyway. i made her go home, and yes—i did end up playing roblox with her. because apparently, her losing in flee the facility is my problem now.” user7 js date already user8 do they know it's legal now?

apparently someone took that advice, because not even ten minutes after you ended stream, there was another knock at your window.

“you gotta stop doing this,” you groaned dramatically.

“i think it’s cute,” megan said with a smug grin. “if you think about it, you used to yell out this window at me to shut up.”

“you heard me?”

“sometimes,” she shrugged.

“and you didn’t be quiet?”

“i tried. it was just hard,” she said, dragging the last word like she wanted you to feel bad for her.

“you’re making me wanna close this window on you right now.”

“wait—” megan held up a hand, “i have something to ask you.”

“did you want to stand out here and ask? or…”

“if i could come in, that’d be nice,” she said sweetly.

“you can come in, megan—”

but before you could even finish the sentence, she was already climbing through the window.

“…the door was an option,” you said flatly, stepping back as she dropped into your room.

“that way was boring,” megan said, brushing off her hands.

“okay…” you gave her a look.

she hesitated for the briefest moment, then stood a little straighter, meeting your eyes.

“i know we kind of got off on a rough start,” she said. “but i’d really like to take you out. like—on an actual dinner date. you and me.”

you stared at her for a second, just long enough to watch the confidence waver behind her eyes.

“will there be dessert?”

“like… metaphorical or—”

“both,” you said.

“yeah,” megan said softly. “there’ll be dessert.”

“then i guess it’s a yes.”

“you guess?”

you rolled your eyes. “yes, megan.”

she lit up, absolutely beaming now, and you hated how much you liked it.

“you’re so annoying,” you muttered.

“i know,” she said, “but now i’m your problem.”

it was the day of your first date, and, you weren't proud of this, you were watching megan’s stream while getting ready. you liked hearing her voice in the background now, even when she was talking trash or yelling about ping.

but by the time you finished getting ready, you looked at the clock—and realized megan, your actual date, was still streaming valorant. you started at your screen in disbelief.

you didn’t even think. you just grabbed your bag, slipped on your shoes, and walked straight to her place.

when you knocked on the door, it was yoonchae who answered, eyes widening a little in surprise.

“hey y/n?”

“i’m here for megan,” you said, trying your best to stay calm.

“i mean… she’s streaming, but she probably won’t be mad i let you in,” yoonchae looked over her shoulder.

“thank you,” you said, stepping inside and following her down the hallway to megan’s room.

you walked in and immediately shut the door behind you with a very pointed click.

megan turned in her chair just slightly. “y/n? wait—oh fuck…”

“yeah,” you said, arms crossing. “for someone who said they wanted to make it up to me, this is a terrible start.”

“i know,” megan groaned. “but they keep making me queue because there’s no fill—”

“right,” you said, voice flat, walking toward her desk with slow, deliberate steps.

megan legit looked like she was running through all five stages of grief in real time. her eyes darted between you and her webcam like she was debating whether to pretend her stream crashed.

user1 megan blink if u need help user2 y/n? hello user3 the way i’ve never seen megan this quiet before is crazy

“are you muted?” you asked calmly and megan nodded so fast.

“unmute.” she obeyed instantly.

you leaned over her shoulder, noting the valorant lobby was still waiting. you moved her mouse, canceled the queue, and closed the game completely. megan still hadn’t said a word. she just watched you even as her friends started yelling at her through her headset.

you leaned closer into her mic. “megan has to go.”

“but we haven’t found a fill yet!” daniela said.

“i don’t really care about that,” you said with a sweet smile in your voice. “hi chat. hope y’all enjoyed today’s stream, but me and megan have plans—and we’re a little late. so she’ll be ending now.”

you turned to her. “end it, so we can go.”

“yes ma’am.”

user4 y/n got that locked down user5 megan is exactly where she wants to be don’t let her fool u user6 we were so right abt these two i’m crying

megan scrambled to hit “end stream,” and as soon as she did, she jumped up, hands in the air like she was about to plead her case.

“okay, okay, i’m sorry,” she rushed out. “it was supposed to be one game and then the queue hit and they begged and i—”

“you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“really lucky,” she nodded, walking over to you.

you stared her down for a beat, then reached for her hand. “let’s go, loser. you owe me dinner.”

megan grinned like she’d just won the lottery. “wherever you wanna go.”

“and you’re paying,” you added, pulling her toward the door.

“obviously,” she said, lacing her fingers with yours like she’d been waiting to do that all day.

#megan skiendiel #megan skiendiel x reader #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #bang jemin #sakai moka #park minju #ryu sarang #illit #izna #manon bannerman #sophia laforteza #daniela avanzini #lara raj #yoonchae jeung

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alwayssassydreamer · 2 days ago

Text

Under Your Skin Part 1

A/N: thanks Ann(on) for requesting "a fic where Shanks and Beckman fall in love with the same marine officer? I don't really mind if you make it a poly relationship or if you choose one of them as love interests for the reader. Nsfw and FReader" I'm gonna be honest this has gotten a little put of hand and longer than intended so I decided to split it into two parts, this one is the "sweet" part no smut in there the other well that's where the nsfw stuff is happening.

Part 2 | Part 3 (not yet posted)

Word count >4200

Plot: you were a Marine officer who regularly ran into Shanks and Beckman having to endure their relentless flirting and teasing that slowly started chipping away your resistance and made you forget about your duty

Warnings: flirting, shanks and beck being relentless, no smut yet, implications of masturbation (nothing describe) MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Shanks x FMarineReader x Beckman

Why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to end up in that damn battle months ago, stationed beside a Vice Admiral, guns drawn, your pulse loud in your ears as you faced off against the infamous Red Hair Pirates?

You were trained for this. You had faced pirates before, stared down executions and smoke and blood. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the way Shanks had looked at you, amused, intrigued, eyes shining like the sea under moonlight, even with your weapon pointed right at his heart.

What you didn’t see was Beckman behind you. His rifle was leveled to the base of your skull before you could breathe.

You remembered his voice. Low, gravelly. Calm like a death sentence.

“Don’t move, sweetheart.”

You should’ve died. But Shanks held up his hand and grinned like this was all foreplay, like you were a welcome surprise in the chaos.

“Easy, Beck. I think she likes me.”

You surrendered because apparently you didn’t plan on dying but also, because something about the look they gave you wasn’t entirely murderous. It was amused. Curious even.

And shameless.

You tried to forget about them.

You filed your report. You moved on to other assignments. But then the Red Hair Pirates docked in another Marine-controlled port a month later, supposedly a diplomatic visit. You had been sent to observe. And there they were.

Shanks winked at you across a smoky tavern table. Beckman didn’t smile as outwardly as Shanks but you caught the small twitch at the corner of his mouth and his eyes oh they lingered. They remembered you. And they didn’t just remember you, they were interested, dangerously so.

“Look who it is,” Shanks said, leaning close over your drink. “Marine sweetheart. Back to cuff me again, or just looking for an excuse to see me?”

You hated how warm your face got. You hated the way Beckman was watching you, like a man measuring his next move, like a fuse slowly burning toward something inevitable.

And it didn’t stop there.

Every few months, they’d show up again, like a storm you couldn’t predict but always felt in your bones.

Once, Shanks approached you during a festival on an Island, he held out his hand and smirked in that annoyingly charming way at you.

“Come on. You're too stiff, you should loosen up and I'm a smooth dancer”

You didn’t get to tell him to get lost before his hand grabbed yours and pulled you closer.

Beckman was watching from a few steps away, half-smirking as Shanks spinned you far too close. His hand stayed at your waist longer than necessary. His mouth brushed near your ear and you couldn't believe how tight a man with just one arm could hold you

“You sure you’re on the right side, pretty thing? You look like someone who could use a little trouble.”

You just glared at him as Shanks chuckled and kept moving you both.

“You know, Marines usually aren’t this good at dancing. Or are you making exceptions… just for me?”

“Oh shut up” you grunted and squirmed out of his grip leaving angrily.

Another time, you ended up in a standoff again, different harbor, different skirmish but instead of bullets, Beckman handed you a cigarette mid-firefight.

“You aiming to kill us again, or just looking for a reason to talk?”

And the worst part?

You didn’t know anymore.

You were a Marine. You had rules. A sense of duty. But they kept showing up in your dreams, Shanks’ lazy hand on your waist, that teasing voice in your ear and Beckman, lingering eyes, hot skin, the kind of man who’d drag his thumb along your lips just to shut you up and make you listen.

They weren’t just dangerous. They were patient. They were interested. And they were starting to wear you down.

They didn’t try to seduce you the same way.

Shanks was firelight and laughter, reckless grins and the kind of teasing that made you want to smack him and kiss him. He had no shame about the way he looked at you like he had already pictured you in his bed, tangled up in his sheets, and was just waiting for the right opportunity to make it happen.

Beckman was a different problem.

He didn’t flirt the way other men did. He didn’t need to.

He’d lean against a railing, arms folded, cigarette between his lips, and watch you like you were already his like he was just waiting for you to catch up and realize it.

It started small.

The way Shanks always gravitated toward your side during ceasefire talks or tense negotiations, despite the disapproving looks from your fellow Marines. You told yourself it was coincidence. He told you it wasn’t.

“You smell better than the rest of them,” he said once, nose crinkling playfully as he leaned closer. “Like a flower field and self-restraint.”

“You’re delusional,” you muttered.

“Maybe. But you still haven’t walked away, have you?”

He winked.

And damn it, you hadn’t.

Beckman didn’t talk much. But when he did?

It was trouble.

You found yourself alone with him once, waiting on a neutral dock for a delayed meeting. The sky was pale, the sea still. He was leaning on a crate beside you, smoking, arms loose at his sides like the world didn’t concern him.

“Shanks thinks you’re gonna fall for him,” he said without looking at you.

“He’s got a long wait,” you replied jaw tensing.

Beckman glanced over, slow and sharp. That look? That look made your spine straighten.

“He’s not wrong,” he said, low. “But he’s not the only one you should be worried about.”

He flicked ash off the side of the dock. Didn’t elaborate.

Didn’t have to but when he leaned closer his breath hot against your ear his scent driving you insane you felt the heat low in your stomach again and he didn't even do or say anything else.

It was eating at you how they tormented you, slowly and ruthlessly with justvtheir natural charm, a few well placed words and the breath of a touch.

Shanks was all about momentum.

He used your tension like a game, a string he could pull at whenever he liked.

Once, during a Marine-monitored festival, he brushed behind you in the crowd (you still had no idea how he got there without anyone noticing)

“You always look like you’re about to arrest me. It’s kind of hot,” he murmured leaning in.

“Maybe I should.”

“If it gets your hands on me? I won’t complain.”

He pulled away before you could reply, red hair vanishing into the lights, leaving your skin prickled and your heart kicking hard in your chest.

Beckman on the other hand was patient.

He didn’t make moves. He created space and waited for you to step into it.

When Shanks riled you up, Beckman was the one who grounded it with a lazy glance, a confident smirk, a brush of fingers along your wrist like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was.

You once ran into him outside an outpost bar alone.

“What are you doing here?” you asked cautiously.

“Looking for you.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Didn’t ask if you were.”

He stepped closer, not enough to crowd you just enough to remind you how big he was. How warm. How solid.

“I don’t chase,” he said quietly. “But I don’t walk away from what I want either.”

He didn’t touch you.

But he let the silence stretch.

Let you feel the heat under his calm.

And when he finally walked away, it took your knees a few seconds to stop trembling.

You were trained for interrogation, infiltration, diplomacy under pressure.

But nothing in your manual prepared you for this.

Not the Yonko with a smile like sunrise, a smile that could melt steal and hands that hovered just shy of your skin.

Not the first mate who didn’t even have to touch you to make you feel like you already belonged to him, who could unravel you with nothing more than a look not even needing words.

And the worst part?

You weren’t sure which one you wanted more.

Or if maybe the real problem was that you wanted them both.

It was supposed to be a routine patrol.

The sun was hot on the cobblestones, the air heavy with salt and chatter as townspeople moved about their day. You were half-focused, half-bored until you rounded a corner and heard his voice.

Beckman.

Low and composed, that signature calm bleeding into every syllable.

You slowed and glanced over.

There he was, standing with a handful of young men, rookies probably, giving what looked like an impromptu lesson in hand-to-hand combat. And standing beside him, grinning like a bastard and chewing on a piece of fruit, was Shanks.

Great.

Your pulse kicked up, but you kept your expression flat as you approached, arms crossed.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

Shanks turned toward you like he’d been waiting.

“Teaching, sweetheart. You’re welcome.”

“This isn’t your jurisdiction.”

“Neither is my heart, but you’ve got that too,” he said with a wink.

You ignored him, mostly, and glared at Beckman. He barely looked up.

“These kids asked how to disarm someone,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Figured I’d show them how it’s done in case they ever need to defend themselves.”

His tone was casual. Dismissive, even.

But you caught it the twitch at the corner of his mouth, the glint in his eyes. He was baiting you.

You should’ve walked away.

You meant to walk away.

But instead you scoffed, stepped closer, and muttered, “Fine. Show me.”

Shanks let out a low whistle behind you.

“Brave,” he said. “Or stupid. Could go either way.”

Beckman looked at you fully now, gaze sweeping down your frame like he was assessing a weapon. His body didn’t move but the shift in his energy hit like a ripple of heat.

“You sure?”

“I’m not some rookie,” you snapped. “Try me.”

There it was again that ghost of a smirk. You didn’t realize what you had just agreed to until he stepped forward, slow and deliberate, and turned his body to the side.

“Come at me.”

You hesitated and he didn't even blink.

And now the rookies were watching.

So you went for it.

You struck, controlled, not reckless, aiming for a classic hold-and-twist. But before your fingers even reached their mark, his arm caught yours mid-air. The next second, your back hit his chest, wrists trapped in his grip and a strong, solid arm around your waist pressing you close against him and your breath hitched.

The hold wasn't painful but damn did you feel helpless and something else.

“Shit—”

“Relax,” he murmured near your ear.

His breath was warm. His body was solid. His arm flexed just enough to remind you of his strength without showing it off.

The rookies murmured in awe and Shanks chuckled.

“Damn,” the redhead drawled. “Didn’t even put up a fight. You really are soft on us.”

You twisted, trying to wriggle out of Beckman’s grip but he just adjusted his hold smoothly, bringing your wrists up higher, arching your back just slightly, your heart betrayed you by slamming against your ribs all while Shanks watched with his chin in his palm, laughing under his breath.

“You two look good together like that,” he teased and you cursed him.

You squirmed in Beckman’s grip trying desperately to break free heat pooling between your legs but he wasn't letting you go.

“This,” he said to the rookies, as if your body was nothing more than a tool for teaching, “is where most people mess up. They try to overpower instead of redirect.”

His fingers brushed over your hips as he spoke, caressing, tormenting and utterly supposed to drive you mad and it definitely worked.

Your mouth had gone dry.

You were not aroused. Nope definitely not. No you were not—

“Careful,” Shanks added lightly, tilting his head. “She’s about to start liking it.”

“She already does,” Beckman said quietly.

And you felt it, the heat behind those words. Low, certain and dangerous.

Then, just as casually as it began, he let you go.

Your body snapped forward as he released the tension, and you stepped away instinctively, chest heaving, face hot.

“Class dismissed,” Beckman said, already turning away.

Shanks followed with a wolfish grin.

“You ever wanna practice that again,” he murmured as he passed, “I volunteer as tribute.”

You stood there, breath caught in your throat, fists clenched at your sides as you watched them disappear around the corner with the rookies trailing behind in starry-eyed awe.

And for the first time in a long time, you wondered if you were completely, utterly screwed.

You stormed off and onto your ship, the marines there looking at your flushed form but neither commented on it they had become used to this side of you though no one truly knew why you looked like this.

A few days later the ship had docked on neutral ground, technically, a port town that didn’t fly Marine colors or pirate flags. You knew that there was a nice quiet bar and you sure as hell needed that and a few drinks. You’d come here alone, no patrol and no orders. Just a few hours to breathe, to drown the buzzing in your head in something strong and bitter.

Each encounter with Shanks and Beckman sharpened the edges. You had tried to pretend otherwise. You told yourself it was a game, pirates playing at charm, trying to get under your skin. You weren’t falling for it.

But you hadn’t stopped thinking about them either.

Shanks, always crowding your space with that infuriating smile, voice dripping flirtation like honey over a blade. And Beckman, that deep, patient drawl that turned harmless words into something intimate, something that lived under your skin long after he walked away.

You were on your second drink when the stool beside you scraped back.

“Sweetheart.”

You didn’t need to look.

Shanks dropped into the seat next to you with the lazy arrogance of a man who had never been told no or didn’t care when he had. He leaned on the bar like he owned it, red hair framing his face, eyes bright with mischief. His hand brushed your wrist, slow and deliberate.

“Back to arrest me again?” he asked, voice low and teasing. “Or just thirsty?”

“Neither,” you said flatly, not turning. “I’m here to be left alone.”

He let out a soft, disbelieving hum. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Another shape moved on your other side, slower, heavier. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Beckman.

He lit a cigarette with the same lack of urgency he used for everything, took a slow dragand exhaled smoke in a lazy plume.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, “but here you are. In this very bar. Again.”

You finally glanced at him.

His smirk wasn’t wide like Shanks’. It was small. Dangerous. The kind of smile that made your thighs clench without warning.

“Makes a man wonder.”

Your jaw tightened.

“It’s a free port,” you snapped. “I didn’t come here for either of you.”

“Mm,” Shanks said, clearly not buying it. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. “That why you wore that little number? All done up in your off-duty coat and skirt like you want someone to peel it off?”

You rolled your eyes. “You think everything’s about you.”

“Not everything,” he said. “Just the things that matter.”

Beckman chuckled quietly beside you. “She’s flustered.”

“Am not,” you bit out.

“Sweetheart,” Beckman said around his cigarette, eyes glinting under the low lights, “you haven’t touched your drink since we sat down. Either you’re scared it’ll go to your head, or you’re already there.”

That got under your skin.

You downed the rest of the drink in one go, slammed the glass back on the bar, and turned toward them.

“What do you want?”

Shanks tilted his head, looking almost innocent. “What makes you think it’s about what we want?”

Beckman leaned in just slightly, the smoke curling between you.

“We’re just enjoying the company,” he said, voice soft enough to make your skin crawl in the best way. “Watching you lie to yourself. It’s entertaining.”

You swallowed hard.

It was getting hot, too hot. Not from the tavern, not from the drink. From them. Their heat was deliberate. A coordinated ambush. One teasing, one slow and lethal.

Shanks grinned, sensing your pulse.

“You know what I think?” he asked, his fingers drumming lazily on the bar. “I think you came here hoping we’d be here. Because if we weren’t…” He leaned in closer, voice all silk and heat. “You’d feel worse.”

You stood up sharply, your stool scraping back with a harsh noise.

But they didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

Just watched.

Beckman blew out another line of smoke, eyes half-lidded, unreadable.

“See you next time,” he said.

Shanks smiled wide. “Don’t wait too long, sweetheart. You’ll miss us.”

You walked out into the night, heart pounding, heat crawling up your neck like a curse.

And god help you, you already did.

You tried to avoid them after that night.

Tried being the key word.

You buried yourself in work, in drills, in paperwork you didn’t need to do, tried hiding in your office because everything else, every encounter with them, felt like your composure unraveling one heartbeat at a time.

And they let you pretend.

For a few days.

Until the trap closed again, one charming grin, one calculated step at a time.

Beckman found you first.

Alone, late, half-off-duty, still in uniform but with your coat undone, tired, frustrated, and achingly tense. You were standing on the docks, watching the ships roll in under a gray sky when you felt him behind you.

Didn’t hear him, just felt him. That quiet, charged presence.

“You’ve been busy,” he said, voice low.

You didn’t turn around.

“Trying to do my job.”

“Is that what you call running?”

You did turn at that, sharp and angry. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t look fazed. Of course he didn’t he never did.

“You came to that tavern alone, knowing we’d be there. You didn’t leave because you weren’t interested.” He stepped closer. “You left because you were.”

Your throat tightened.

“What exactly do you want from me, Beckman?”

He looked at you, eyes unreadable but far from empty.

“Nothing,” he said. “Not until you start being honest with yourself.”

Then he brushed past you just a light graze of his hand across your hip as he walked away, leaving your skin burning.

Shanks on the other hand wasn’t so subtle.

You ran into him the next day, outside a market stall, bold as ever. He had a bottle of wine tucked under his arm and two glasses in hand.

“You owe me a drink,” he said.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Didn’t say it was a debt, sweetheart. Just figured if I’m living in your head rent-free, you could at least offer a toast.”

You hated how easily he made you laugh. How fast he turned irritation into breathless tension.

He stepped close, too close, offering you one of the glasses.

“One drink. You don’t even have to talk. Just let me look at you.”

“You already do that.”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun when you let me.”

You didn’t take the glass.

But you didn’t move away either.

His eyes flicked to your lips. “Next time,” he said, voice rougher now, “you won’t say no.”

And you knew he was right as you walked away heart betraying how much he got to you.

But it got worse because then they both showed up.

You weren’t expecting it, at least not so fast. Not when you were already cracking under the pressure of one of them.

But they came to you at the tavern again.

Shanks slid into the empty chair beside you with a smirk.

Beckman leaned against the wall behind your seat, silent, unreadable.

And suddenly you were boxed in.

Surrounded.

Pinned.

“You’ve been distant,” Shanks murmured. “You sick, sweetheart? Or just thinking too hard?”

“Maybe she’s realizing something,” Beckman said calmly behind you. “Hard to stay objective when the enemy knows you better so good.”

You stood too fast, your chair scraping the floor. You muttered something about needing air.

Neither of them followed.

But they didn’t have to.

The heat clung to you as you walked.

The worst part? The truth of it.

You didn’t want one of them, you didn’t want to choose, hell you fucking wanted both of them.

You wanted Shanks’ fire and Beckman’s shadow, wanted the way they looked at you like they could peel you open with a glance, like they were waiting for the day you'd finally stop pretending.

And you didn’t know how much longer you could pretend because now they occupied your dreams every night you dreamt of their hands and lips on you of how good it would feel having them both.

But again you were a marine and they were purates and you, goahyou shouldn't think about them like this, dream about them, fucking touch yourself thinking of them.

And you should have known it wouldn’t end quietly.

You turned the corner near your temporary lodgings late that night after you went for a walk to clear your mind, boots soft on worn stone, heart beginning to settle when a familiar voice stopped you cold.

“There she is.”

Shanks.

You groaned under your breath, already turning to leave.

“Nope. Not tonight.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and smooth as molasses. He followed with that swaggering gait that made your pulse stutter, that easy grin that looked too damn pleased to see you. “You’re always running. Starting to think you like it when we chase.”

You turned fast, jaw tight. “I’m not in the mood.”

He held up his hands in mock innocence. “Sure you are. You just don’t want to admit it.”

You tried to get away but another shape moved in, slower.

Beckman.

He took position on your other flank like he belonged there. Lit cigarette. Unreadable eyes. A wall of calm heat.

Nowhere to go.

“Evenin,” he said smoothly.

“Oh, come on—”

“We could follow you up there, you know,” Shanks offered, jerking his chin toward your door with a devilish grin. “Keep you company.”

You stared at him, jaw clenched. “That supposed to be a threat or an offer?”

“You’d know the difference by now,” Beckman murmured behind you.

Your skin bristled.

They were too close and god it was too much.

Shanks stepped forward, not touching but close enough to tilt his head and look at you like you were already saying yes.

“You’ve been pretending this whole time,” he said softly. “That you don’t want us. That you can keep this professional.” His smile faded, just a little. “But you can’t even look at me without biting your lip.”

That was not true you were not— ah fuck it you were biting your lip.

Damn him.

“You don’t want one of us. That’s why you haven’t picked,” he said, voice quieter than Shanks’, rougher.

You felt like the breath just left your lungs and the heat creep up your neck

They knew, of course they knew.

You’d been so careful, so composed but they were pirates. Predators. Experts in pressure and patience. They had waited, watched, learned you.

“So stop pretending, we don't mind sharing” Shanks said. “Let us in. Let it happen.”

“Or we’ll keep chasing,” Beckman added. “And you’ll keep letting us.”

Your hands were trembling at your sides. Did he just seriously say that they didn't mind sharing. Oh god that was bad. That was so…..fucking hot.

You looked at Shanks, at that fire in his eyes all teasing heat and reckless promise.

You looked at Beckman, the calm certainty in his stare, a promise of possession, slow and steady and inevitable.

And god help you did you want the two of them right there, especially after it became clear they didn’t mind having you between them.

Fuck the heat became unbearable the images of your dreams, you between them, their hands all over your body, their lips claiming you flashing before you and making everything worse right now. The chaos and the control. The way they saw you, knew you, unpeeled you without ever truly laying a hand on you.

You backed up toward your door because you needed to get away before you were doing something reckless.

They didn’t follow, at least not yet.

“Get some sleep,” Beckman called after you, voice quieter now. “You’re gonna need it.”

Shanks just smiled as you fumbled with your keys, pulse loud in your ears.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

You shut the door behind you with shaking hands and leaned against it, biting your lip and running one hand through your hair.

You didn’t sleep that night though, not much.

You burned and the two of them kept occupying your mind. The fire under your skin and the way thinking of them caused your thighs to clench together because god how you wanted them.

......to be continued

#one piece #shanks #benn beckman #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks one piece #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman x you #beckman x reader #ben beckman #one piece benn beckman #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #one piece smut #red hair pirates

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siri-ike · 3 days ago

Text

It was actually kind of nice once he got over the initial shock(and disappointment) of switching. He couldn't hear nearly as well as usual. He was pretty sure he even dosed off for a bit in his little hidey-hole. Plus, this soul mate has some serious muscles. He'd probably be checking himself out in the mirror if all hell wasn't braking loose in front of him. His vision was perfect. He wasn't aching everywhere. But there was one thing keeping him from enjoying any of it. He knew his soul mate was suffering in his body back home.

Also, the spoiled ecto was total wack.

All the Bats seemed to be running around aimlessly (never meet your heroes🙄) except one, Batgirl. She stood close and watched him as her family... threw things at each other? What's that supposed to do? Anyway, Danny watched her get closer and closer until she finally stopped when he hissed at her. She slowly removed her patchwork mask and revealed her face. Cassandra Caine, 17. Sam's a big fan. Apparently, she's creepy, which is hot. She once kicked a tabloid reporter in the nose, which is hot. And she dresses like every day is a day for a funeral, Sam would be ready to propose if they weren't woefully 15 years old.

"Cass." She pointed at herself.

"Cassandra Cain, I know. Only daughter of Bruce Wayne, quiet and, according to tabloids, creepy. Not that those can be trusted or anything, 'specially when the actual news can't even be trusted. I would know."

Did he maybe reveal a bit more than he meant to? Yes, but he'd be more damned if he didn't take every opportunity to lash at the media.

"Training done. Eat." Well, Sam did way she was a woman of few words. He just didn't think she meant that so literally.

● ● ●

Danny sat at a huge dining table staring at a feast. On his right sat Batgirl, now dressed in normal attire, a giant unkown man with red hair and Duke Thomas. On his left, at the head of the table, was Bruce Wayne. Across was Dick Grayson, and next to him were Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown. At the other head of the table was a, starfish? In a onesie and a highchair? All of them, except the starfish, stared at him like he was an alien. A refreshing change from being looked at like a ghost.

"Danny," Bruce addressed. "Are you hungry?"

Danny snapped back to looking at him. "I, uh," he was eating before he switched, now he had to eat again? "Sorry, I'll eat." He quickly grabbed whatever was closest, a big helping of rosted sweet potatoes (Don't mind if he does) and stuffed a forkful into his mouth. Or at least he tried. He missed entirely. Missed the platter, missed the plate, and missed his mouth. It was pretty embarrassing.

"Something the matter?"

"No~ just, mm, not used to having full depth perception... or this much muscle." Definitely going to check himself out in the mirror later.

An older man appeared behind him and placed a fuller portion on Danny's plate. "For future reference, master Danny, we don't wear the suits at the table."

"Sorry," Yeah, no way was Danny about to change clothes in someone else's body. "I'll make sure to dress normal when I visit."

That earned a few snickers from Dick, Steph, and the bulky guy.

"Are you planning to visit?" Bat Bruce asked sternly.

"I mean, isn't that how it's supposed to go?" Danny tried a few times to stab the same cube on his plate. "You switch, find things out about your soul mate so you can find each other, and then happily ever after. More or less." Danny finally put his fork down and picked the food up with his hand. "Wow, you can really taste the lack of firearms used on this." He said, shoving a handful into his mouth.

"You shoot vegetables back home?" Dick questioned.

"I don't. Vegetables usually aren't an option back home, but my parents have a way of making things violent."

"Danny, do your parents hit you?" The big one sounded personally offended.

"No, but their aim is getting better." Danny was the only one who laughed.

________

"We should leave now." Sam said, tearing her hand of their frozen table.

Tucker shoved what he could pry out of the ice into his backpack and dragged Damian out of the restaurant. On the way out, Damian spotted Sam bribing an employee.

"What was that?" His voice usually didn't shake like that, but he was also usually in control of his own facilities.

"We'll explain more in depth once we're clear."

Damian heard sirens and clutched his headphones tighter.

"Dan- Damian, can you tell if it's police or military?"

Military? Why would the military be here? "Cop, th- three cop cars." He writhed.

They pulled him into an alley. He kept following their lead. Soon, he noticed things were getting quieter. The sirens were all but gone. He could only hear 6 or so voices talking over each other. The sound of birds chirping and leaves drifting in the wind was so much gentler than the noise of the city. "Where-?"

"The exact middle of the park. Quietest place in Amity Park... without being, you know, underground or something." Tucker explained.

Damian straightened up. It was quiet here. Compared to everywhere else. There was still plenty of distracting noise. A water pipe below the ground, the sizzling water at a hotdog kart, squirrels. But he could think. "Explain." Damian removed his hands from his headphones and looked at Sam and Tucker

"Right, so, Danny, or you at the moment, has super hearing."

Please don't be Kryptonian. Please don't be Kryptonian.

"As well as a lot of other abilities." Sam continued.

Crap.

"Freezing things, flying, lasers -" Tucker listed.

Crap, crap, crap, his soulmate is an alien. Damian scowled.

"We actually thought the switch wouldn't even happen to him."

"Yeah, people always say "at some point in your lifetime," and since Danny is a ghost, we thought it wouldn't apply."

"Wait, ghost?"

"Oh, right, yeah. Danny has powers because he's a ghost."

________

"No."

"We just want to help."

"No."

"If you're scared of getting hurt, we can protect you."

"No."

"Is someone else in danger, too? If you tell us, we can find and protect them too."

"You know what?" Danny slips off the table he was sat on. "I think it's time for bed, or school, or whatever. Gotham's in a weird time zone or something, right?" Danny tried to walk away, but someone grabbed onto his cape. He let his head fall back to address them. "Urgh. How long does this last? You're old as dust. You must have been switched already, or at least know someone who has. What's the time range?"

Bruce didn't acknowledge the comment and answered. "I switched when I was 17. I was in arkham at the time, so she went out of her way to change her identity when we switched back. It lasted about 4 hours."

Tim let go of Danny's cape. "I was 16. I spent 2 hours in a vat being looked at by scientists."

Danny nodded, still leaning over backwards as though it were a perfectly normal position. "You look like you have something to say."

The big guy looked a little sad? Was that the facial expression for sadness? It was much harder to tell without ghost empathy or whatever it was. "If someone is hurting you back home you should tell us."

Danny straightened back up and turned around. "Look, Damian is, ugh, Robin, apparently, right? And for the moment, he's me. So, if something were seriously wrong, he would handle it, right? Or call you if needed?" Heh, good luck calling for help when you electrocute any technology you touch. "Have you received any strange calls yet?"

The Waynes looked at each other. It kind of looked like they were having a psychic conversation. Tim broke from the group and out of the room. Were they having a psychic conversation? Were the Bats psychic? Was Danny psychic while he was in this body? Wait, how could they all have the same power if they weren't actually related?

Danny watched as Tim scurried away like a malnourished raccoon. "You guys are freaks, you know that? And I know freaks."

Through your eyes

One moment Danny was sitting with Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger, and the next he found himself being knocked to the ground. Landing hard on his back, which only added to the disorientated feeling.

Despite his head being shaken he knew what this was. A soulmate body switch. It was something that happened randomly in a person's life—some never even get it at all—with no warning, and lasted for a couple hours. The only visible change that anything is even happening is the fact that the eyes will turn a vibrant white while the two are in each other's bodies.

With his eyes closed Danny tried to take a moment to get his bearings. It was hard to do though when a worried voice suddenly yelled out, "Damian!"

It seems his soulmate's name is Damian, Danny thinks as a thud sounds out next to him, and hands appear on his face and shoulder. Finally opening his eyes he sees a, surprisingly, familiar face. The face of no one other than Dick Grayson. Which is the last person he expected to see.

Wait. Damian? As in Damian Wayne?

Dick, who looked as shocked as Danny feels right now, makes a move that looks like he's going to cover Danny's eyes. Before he can though Danny is breaking free from his grip rolling away from Dick to finally take in the area around him.

Which is a cave. Why is he in a cave? A cave with a frankly massive looking computer? A cave with at least one Batman symbol in every direction he looks? The Batcave? The Batcave.

Oh no.

Looking at Dick, Nightwing his thoughts whisper, looking at him with a strange mix of panic and acceptance. Knowing that there is nothing he can do right now to stop Danny from putting the pieces together.

"So…What's your name?" Dick asks him. Despite the tone being friendly Danny can tell that an interrogation of a lifetime is about to start.

#danny phantom #fanfic #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #sam manson #tucker foley

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eclipse-msoul · 18 hours ago

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝙤𝙛 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫

( I own the writing, picture from Pinterest)

Dark-yandere Batfam X aunt reader

𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: You wished your brother and his family loved you. It just had to one of those nights when wishes were granted.

𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀 : yandere, bullying, hitting, neglected reader, Reader is Bruce's younger sister, everyone is crazy, pseudo-incest etc

(One short)

‘Everyone's probably still asleep.’ You thought mindlessly as your eyes wandered over the counter. You picked up the cup of coffee and brought it near your lips.

The taste of the bitter coffee made its way through your throat and despite it being so warm, you didn't dare spit it out. You gulped it down in one big sip and took a sigh of relief.

This was the one thing that you could look forward to waking up. Your arms stretched before you let your head lay over the counter. How many years has it been now?

The clock ticked.

How many years since the blood of your innocent parents spilled over your face?

The needle shifted and the clock ticked again.

Till you lost your big brother?

Tick

Since you got trapped in this nightmare?

Tick

Since everything got ruined…

Since you became a burden.

The clock hit twelve and the bells began to ring. It was noon.

You heard those familiar footsteps - one that had been the reason for your torment for years - you visibly kept yourself in the same place. Your hand trembled as you fixed a smile over your face.

You could do this.

Just another day of pretending.

Staring back confidently into those blue eyes, you greeted one of your nieces. “ Morning Stephanie!” She ignored your greeting, tending to open the fridge and gulping down another carton of milk.

Your fingers twitched but that smile - that was practiced with so many years of dedication - remained. You didn't give up, even if the response was the same.

“ Stephanie-” You said, pointing your palm in front of the counter, “ I've made your favorites, why don't you try a bite?” She kept quiet, giving you the silent treatment was she? Well, the play had to go on.

“ I know how you like them super sweet, so I added lots of strawberries-” The words hadn't even finished leaving your mouth, when she used her hand and swiped up the pancake - that you knew you shouldn't have put so much effort into - on the floor.

The sound of cutlery and plates breaking made the chatter in your mouth die out. You stared back at her and she hissed. “ Don't try to act familiar with me.” It was said with such hate and venom festered in each breath that you might as well have killed her whole family.

Your niece was twenty.

She acted like she was six.

“ Steph- I didnt-” You mumbled. Hopefully she'd just curse you a little more and leave.

But like God was laughing at you, she did worse than she usually did. Her palm came at lightning speed and made contact with your face.

Slap

You looked back at her a little hurt. This was the first time she'd ever physically hit you. You could feel your cheeks ache and if you were right, it was probably red and going to leave a bruise.

Stephanie seemed shocked too, if her widened eyes spoke but alas her quivering lips turned into a taunting smile and she held in your collar. “ Try me again and I'll be worse.” She said before pushing you back.

She walked away.

You sighed, glancing down at your pitiful effort. Your cheek was hurting so bad and truly she really used a lot of her strength.

Ha..

Others would think you're crying like a pitiful lamb but for you, it was a well done acting.

‘ Hiss-’ you need to get this mess cleaned up before Alfred comes. Or else you'll be starving for the next few days. Sigh, what luck.

Getting up, you picked up the fragile broken shards and threw them in the bin. Making your way to your room, you closed the door tight and swatted back into the ground.

The mirror reflected your sorry state.

That artificial leg.

Your fake eyes.

Your bruised face.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself. You were thirty two yet you were living with your abusers, no job, not even a university diploma. It was laughable what the Great Thomas Wayne's daughter had become.

His daughter.

Your hand tightened into a fist.

You despised him.

Despised your mother, despised that she died and left you with your brother.

He was supposed to be your protector but here he was punishing you for the smallest things. You were a bright child - so much hope and dreams fitted into your little body but here you were - a pitiful soul.

He was supposed to be your big brother but he was their father, Alfred's son, and your biggest hater. Why else would he blame you for his parent's death?

They were yours too!

If that wasn't enough, he made sure that all his sons and daughters knew how much he hated you. They looked up to him - if he hated you, you had to be wrong.

Because how could the great Batman ever be so wrong and cruel?

He was Justice.

You were a murderer.

He made sure to remind you of that every single day. And Alfred, he is as repulsive as your brother is. No not brother - the older brother you remember was kinda not him.

He was everything that Bruce is not. Why did your brother have to die in the alleyway?

You wished you had died instead.

Wished he had actually died instead-

Tears flowed down as you tried to wipe them off. It was hard wiping them off when they wouldn't stop. You had made peace that they would never accept you. But your heart just loves to hurt and remind you of the pain.

Why did you have to be so dumb fully hopeful?

Hopeful for your Brother Bruce and the family he built to love you.

But it was okay.

Just a few more days and you'll finally leave.

Your packed bags remained hidden.

Just a few more days and you'd be out of here living your best life. Finally away from them all.

You didn't know when you fell asleep. In the darkness, you heard echoes of someone begging, crying, it sounded like you.

You weren't crying though?

Then a snake came and wrapped itself around you while you struggled helplessly. The last thing you saw was its fangs coming out and piercing you.

A scream tore through and you woke up sweating and shivering. You look here and there, your trembling hand gripping the bedsheet harder.

It…was a dream.

The mirror reflected you to look even paler.

You stood up from the floor, your body was stiff probably because of how you slept. You took out your artificial leg and placed it on your side. After cleaning and changing in the bed, you attached it again.

Your vision was blurred.

You really needed to get this model of eyes updated.

You needed to have it down before you left.

You heard the birds chirping and the sun falling down. Looking out your window, you froze. Weird, had a day already passed? Did you really just fall asleep crying and skip dinner?

No one really bothered to get you.

Feel the dizziness and the hunger sweeping past you. You walked out the door, keeping your steps minimal to not wake anyone.

As you walked through the manner you noticed a few things felt out of place. The manor felt darker than usual. The light of the sun did not do so good against Gotham's darkness.

You kept walking.

Step

You let your guard down, and when the dizziness swept - Your foot slipped and just when you thought you'd hit the ground, large warm muscular hands caught you.

They pulled you in for an embrace and your face made contact with his chest. “ What the-” who was holding you like this?

“Y/n!” That voice caught you off guard. You pulled out and stared shocked at him. Your throat constricted as you swallowed in your words.

There he was, your oldest nephew. His bright blue eyes were shining and he grinning down at you with his sunshine-like million dollar smile. “Dick?”

He laughed and pulled you in tighter. What the hell?

“ What are you-”

“ I was coming to get you.” Dick said, smiling. There was something really off putting about him. His eyes seem to trail over your body and you noticed that his hand was placed lower than it should have.

You looked confused. “ You..came to get me?”

Were you dreaming ?

“ Yeah?” he said, giving you puppy eyes. You visibly frowned in disgust.

Okay, what the fuck was going on here? Your Dick would never do that. You pushed away his hands and tried to create distance but he pulled your arm and grabbed it tighter.

His smile became strained while his eyebrow arched up. “ Let's go, everyone’s waiting for you Y/n!”

“ Wait, Dick-”

He didn't listen to your protest, instead pulling you with him to the dining hall. You struggled as he dragged you inside. The door opened and you came behind him.

Dick was strong but you were older. What the hell did Alfred feed these bastards?

While struggling, You made eye-contact with Tim.

He smiled.

You gulped, the fight dying in you.

This was a nightmare.

Dick dragged you to your “seat” and pulled the chair out. “ Here.” He winked at you , and your hands twitched nervously , “ Thank you…”

“ Anything for my favorite family member." He grinned, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

All of the family was there. You felt out of place but sat nevertheless. You had to be dreaming. Dick did not just call you his favourite. You were in fact his most hated family member. If he considered you one that is.

What the shift was going on?

You felt ten pairs of eyes on you. Looking up, they all made eye contact with you and smiled. Smileed! It was unnerving.

Why were they all staring at you?

And so angry at that. (you felt it)

“ Y/n.” Your body shivered at the honey dipped voice. You looked back in horror. Bruce was smiling too.

At you.

You turned your head away.

His teeth shined under the sparkly candle light.Why was that even on? It was morning !He motioned for Alfred to begin breakfast. Alfred nodded and began to serve the food.

The only sound that came was of cutlery, and meat being cut.

You ate quietly, wondering when they would end. When you wished for them to be nice to you ( to love you ) , this wasn't what you had in mind.

You took another bite of meat dipped in egg yolk.

Was God finally making things nice for you?

The sound stopped and you felt like you were a vacuum - no sound, no living thought, nothing.

Bruce stared at you while you did your best not to. But it was getting too much and you were afraid digestion was coming for you. So you finally spoke and asked.

“Bruce..”

“ Hm?”

“What is going on with you?”

To which Bruce just stared, completely ignoring the unease crawling up to you. Then as the clock struck 9am. It was as if their whole demeanor changed.

Bruce let out a chuckle and took a sip of the red wine. “ How's your packing going?”

You froze, “W-What packing?” Did he know?

Bruce hummed, pointing at Alfred. Alfred threw your bags in front. And placed your passport in Bruce's hand.

“ This.”

You saw red.

Bruce's blue eyes looked a mixture of black and blue. “ Did you really think you could escape, younger sister?”

“ Y/n?” He stared, “Well- Did you?

You never got up faster.

Before you could race down and run, hands were already grabbing you. “ Where do you think you're going?” Jason asked.

“ Jason-”

Damian scoffed, “ Tch, it would be wise not to struggle.” he held your wrist tightly.

Those bastards were cruel. Jason and Damian grabbed your hands and dragged you with them out. You couldn't even struggle, they were too damn strong.

Dick hummed as he followed.

Stephanie giggled while Tim sighed looking back at Alfred. “ I've cut off the signals in her eyes , she won't be able to see anymore.”

“ What about her leg?” Duke perked up.

Barbara answered, “ It's been dislodged.”

“ Nice!” Duke grinned, following Tim and Steph as they made their way out.

Her blue eyes looked in the direction of the door before turning to Cassandra ,” Let's reap our rewards for our patience now, shall we?”

Cass signed, “ Let's go.”

She heard you scream and licked her lips. How lovely it sounded. This was it, after putting on the show of despising their beloved for years, they could finally have her.

She needed to thank you for your Ignorance.

“ Aren't you going to join? Bruce.” Bruce sat at his chair looking least concerned. He used the handkerchief to wipe his mouth.

Barbara raised a brow. “ Bruce?”

“ You kids enjoy her first. I'll be down later.”

Barbara chuckled, turning back, “ I won't turn that down, now would I?”

It was finally time.

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thetrasha · 2 days ago

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I really liked your law x baker!reader 🤭 law eating the bread anyway for the save of his cutie baker crush IS JUST SO CUTE

“I… Is your heartbeat arrhythmic right now, too?” Bro that line almost made me explode with confetti he’s such a cute little geek omg

Sorry back on topic I was wondering if you could do the Law x Baker!reader thing again, but it’s where they’re already dating. So you know the “would you still love me if I was a worm” Thing?

What if Y/n is baking pastries for luffy with Sanji. Y/n is having a blast at the alliance hang out, I mean after all, it’s not everyday you get to bake with another skilled cook! Especially when making bread! (Which y/n had kinda stopped making b/c she felt bad for making law suffer like that)

And law is just peeking through the window of the kitchen door like a little brooding loser 😭🙏 once the two go back to the submarine law is pouting into Y/n’s shoulder (in his room cuz we all know he’d rather eat mountains of bread than be caught like that)

“Would you love me more if I liked bread..? Would you also love me more if I was a good cook…?”

I rlly don’t think I cooked with this one I’m sorry you don’t gotta do this if you don’t wanna 😭🙏

Hello! <3 Thank you so much for the nice comments you've left :D I read them all and I'm so happy to see you in my requests like that. Seriously, thank you so much for liking the baker!reader x Law fic I wrote... weeks ago LOL 😭 And wow, someone pointing out specific dialogue (●'◡'●) I'm so happy!! Law's a real pain to portray correctly, especially in a romantic setting so I'm just glad people enjoy what I've got to say hehe~~

I changed the request ever so slightly but kept its essence! I hope you're happy with it, I'm pretty proud of the outcome :D And you don't have to badmouth your own idea! Even if I don't end up taking request, I appreciate every single thought that ends up in my inbox. Cooking is cooking LOL

! This story can be read as a standalone piece, but is meant to be a continuation !

Sweeter Than Honey

includes: pastry chef/ baker reader

feat. LAW

part one - "Sweet As Pie"

Your relationship with Law was… unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He was still the same man you’ve got to know during your shared journey, but you’ve come to see him in a different light, from a different angle… slowly. At first, you’d thought that he’d remain rigid and interact with you quite awkwardly especially because he was still your Captain, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Law might have been subtle and his love had a bit of a simmering quality that was quickly drowned out by the madness that accompanied you aboard the Polar Tang, but he wasn’t cold at all. His affections manifested in different ways – you were aware, from the very beginning, that he wouldn’t be the type to be obvious about his feelings for you; he wasn’t embarrassed by you by any means, he was just very private and, thus, reserved.

There were no sensual kisses shared in public places, no candlelit dinners by the shore, no cutesy petnames… but that wasn’t what you wanted either. Law gave you what most others couldn’t: He saw you as someone worth putting his all into. He trusted you – honestly and wholeheartedly.

So… there might have been no grand romantic gestures that made it obvious that you two belonged together, but there were long conversations in the middle of the night, revealing things to one another that you’ve never told another soul, there were questions that seemed larger than life itself – Law, superficially, already knew you, you’ve been on the same crew for about a year, but he wanted to know your soul, what makes you tick… Nobody else has ever asked you about your dreams, your sense of justice, what it means to grief, whether people deserve to suffer… Your boyfriend sought a connection, yearned for someone to be vulnerable with and you could but smile sweetly at his efforts. You unravelled him without even trying, slowly made him change his beliefs by sharing your own, but he would never stray from his core identity. Law had integrity, honour and took pride in who he was, even if he was, at the same time, deeply critical of himself and ashamed of what he was capable of. In his mind, he was a monster who could only take and destroy, someone who wasn’t worthy of love… but there you were, always gracing him with everything he’s ever craved in secret.

It made him… shy, to love so deeply. He would never be able to put his thoughts into words – not because he wasn’t sophisticated enough, but because there was no word to accurately describe what he’s felt for you.

You were brilliant… a pearl among sea glass. To think he’s the one to find you; he couldn’t count himself any luckier. You looked at him like deserved to live, never questioned his place in the word. You wanted him here, right by your side. That’s how deep your care went, you were just as devoted to him as he was to you, you just liked to show it, guide him along… make him see all life’s got to offer. It was marvellous how your mere presence completely shattered his cynicism towards… life – that there was more to it than retribution.

His past mistakes wouldn’t define him; logically, he knew that, but you still told him time and time again, demanding to lift his burdens… just for a while, one at a time. Back then, you had no idea that it had an effect on him at all, you simply did it out of the goodness of your heart and because you desired to see him smile.

Only one other person has ever put that much effort into building a relationship with him… and sadly, you will never meet the man who’s inspired Law to sail the seas and find you, his very own peace.

He truly needed you more than the air that he breathed.

Like moon needs sun,

like cold needs warmth,

like sorrow needs joy,

sigh… like bread needs yeast –

– he needed you.

And he loved you, more than you’ll ever know.

…Maybe that’s why this current arrangement irked him so much.

He shouldn’t have ever taken you to Dressrosa with him. Why he agreed to your ridiculous request to pick you up from the nearest habitable island to Punk Hazard was beyond him in the first place.

Yeah, he missed you. Yes, he knew that you missed him, too… and he couldn’t be more grateful.

You should be on the Polar Tang, far away from him, though. You would be under protection since Law was still a Warlord of the Sea… you would be safe. And you wouldn’t have to watch your partner kill his tormentor.

And, well, that damned Straw Hat cook wouldn’t have had the chance to be all over you.

“Tell me more about this focaccia, (Y/N)-swan!”, Sanji mused with hearts in his eyes. It got so bad that the people sitting nearby, occupying the breakfast nook – Law among them – were absolutely ignored. Even the navigator.

“Well…”, you smiled, pointing at the second dough you’ve prepared yesterday evening, just after you’ve joined this… makeshift alliance, “It’s a type of flatbread from the hottest parts of the North Blue. I love to pair it with a good tomato soup, that’s why I always add garlic, fresh onions and rosemary.”

“I’ll make on right away, my beautiful patisserie chef!”

“Ahaha, thanks, Sanji… what an honour to stand next to someone who worked at the Baratie… what was it like? How’s Chef- eh… Captain Zeff? Is he a nice man? I’ve never been to the East Blue, so-”

It was the first time your voice caused Law to click his tongue before grinding his teeth against one another in frustration. That idiot cook made him onigiri after shockingly learning that he wouldn’t eat the sandwiches he planned to make, but he still hated that man’s guts.

Of course you’d hit it off with another chef. Rumour has it that Sanji was the most talented chef in the making… if Straw Hat-ya’s word was to be believed, which it absolutely wasn’t… still, those onigiri weren’t half bad. The rice was soft but chewy and the tuna-mayo filling, well, satisfactory. He much preferred your cooking, even if you insisted on cute little gimmicks like star-shaped carrots sometimes. As bizarre as it was, it always made him blush… and he saved those godforsaken snacks every single time, chewing on it much more cautiously than he usually would. Law knew that it made you happy to see him just as content with life and you graced his cheek with a peck every time, without fail. Like a sacred ritual.

Today, he would get none of that – even though you were present.

You were making food for Straw Hat-ya and his crew. You were helping Sanji.

Law wouldn’t ever say that he’s a jealous person at all. If anything, he understood that you were faithful and totally loyal to him and let you roam free, knowing that you’ll always stand by his side. He would never try to sabotage you when you were just wanting some more friends, especially after you’ve had it quite rough after your Captain became a Warlord. No name pirates still tried challenging you… and you were no fighter. You just… well, you learnt to defend yourself – had to. Your boyfriend thought that was admirable; he praised you for your personal development and even stole a kiss from you aboard the Sunny… just to tell you that he would always be there to protect you if it came down to it.

So… why did he feel so helpless now? His eyes darted back towards the blond chef who was marvelling at your skills in the kitchen. That moron didn’t even know what he was looking at! You were so much more versatile, could whip up more than bread. The fact that Sanji kept focusing on that… somehow, it made the rice of those onigiris turn sour.

“Torao, are you going to eat that?” Luffy asked with a smile, pointing at Law’s abandoned plate by he was still waiting for his meaty sandwiches.

“Take as much as you please.” Law answered coldly, rolling his eyes at the offensive food.

“THANKS! You’re the best! We’re going to be best fr-”

“NO! We are no more than-” Just before he could protest, Zoro sent a smirk his way while nursing a beer bottle.

“You know that it doesn’t work on him, don’t you?” The swordsman commented coolly, chuckling at Law’s expression of frustration.

And for the remaining part of the evening, Law had to watch while you shared food with anyone but him… because everyone but him liked bread.

And he knew that it was childish. He knew it, okay! This shouldn’t even affect him. His plan was finally coming together. Soon, they’ll reach Dressrosa. Hell, they’ve captured Caesar! Doflamingo will call first thing in the morning, abdicating from the Warlord system and leaving him vulnerable to… everyone. Law and the Straw Hat Pirates will be after his head, Kaidou won’t be too happy about Caesar’s capture either if the production of SMILEs screeched to a halt, every single underground broker will want to murder him for the chaos that wretched false king has caused. And if all things go wrong, maybe the Navy will just order a Buster Call on Dressrosa. Anything would be better than the status quo!

Law had all of that to worry about… not to mention that you were here as well. He didn’t know whether he has the heart to leave you on the Thousand Sunny to sail to Zou while he finished his business with Doflamingo himself. He wants you to be safe and away from the mess he’s undoubtedly going to cause. Law is well aware that the outcome of this battle will usher in a new era of piracy. Whether it’s going to put people in shackles or free them, he couldn’t possibly know at this time. All he wants is to repay Cora-san.

That klutz would adore you, probably like you more than Law, he’d be so happy for the boy he sav-

“You’re brooding.” You chuckled upon finding your boyfriend in the men’s quarters all by himself while the Straw Hat crew partied… and Nami had a few words with Caesar about his laboratory. She sounded livid and you didn’t want to be around her when she spat venom at the mad scientist.

Law looked up to find you leaning against the door frame, crossing your arms over your chest.

He would never tell you, but you looked… better and worse without the Heart Pirates’ boiler suit. One the one hand, looking at you felt much more intimate now that you wore pieces you liked – they weren’t particularly practical, but you were so, so pretty… On the other hand, though, nobody knew who you belonged to. You were a member of his crew and nobody else’s.

Especially not… Straw Hat-ya’s.

“I am not. I am reading.” He clicked his tongue before grabbing a “medical journal” off Chopper’s bedside table, not knowing how to conceal the fact that he was… pouting.

You rolled your eyes with a smile before taking the book from him.

“…’A Comprehensive Guide to Hoof Cleaning’ How to Care for Your’ – and the word ‘horse’ is crossed out several times?”, you read before giggling, “Ah, yes. Classic Law.”

You threw the book away into someone else’s hammock before sitting down next to… the Captain… who was sliding down the while as he pinched the bridge of his nose with rosy-red cheeks.

You smiled wryly, reaching out to take his hat from him, at which he glared for just a second before noticing that you put it on.

Then you angled your body towards him, embracing him with all you’ve got.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Are you okay? I’m so sorry I went to bed so early yesterday. I didn’t even tell you that I loved you. I love you, Law. You know that, don’t you? God, are you really okay? I…”

This is exactly why he couldn’t just leave you. You were… perfect. You were separated for God knows how long and the first thing you ask about is his well-being? That’s not… all the Donquixote executives ever asked him was whether the mission was a success.

“I am fine. Yes, I do know. I love you, too, (Y/N)-ya. Yes, I am. The… I destroyed the SAD production facility. And Vice Admiral Vergo who was acting as a double ag-”

“I am glad, but I knew you were going to do it! I believed in you!”, your bright smile almost blinded him – and then he yelped when you cuddled further into him, burying your face in his jacket, “I’m so relieved you’re alright. I saw the state the others were in and – my God…”

Law shut you up with a surprisingly sensual kiss that made you open your eyes wide as soon as you felt it. His arms circled your waist as he dove in, teasing you ever so slightly with ghostly touches. His lips touched yours quite passionately as he leaned in to push his weight into you, holding you flush against him.

Honestly, he didn’t know where it came from, but hearing you voice your care for him… it did something. For once, his heart leaped, drumming against his chest with an angry beat that he feared would ring across the Sunny if it was any louder. And he no longer felt any remnants of envy towards any of the Straw Hats.

You were his in every way possible – and Law was yours, naturally.

Only you could understand him wordlessly.

You pressed another kiss to his forehead, softly caressing his stubbled jaw with your fingers.

His eyes immediately met yours in an intense stare that had him looking away after mere seconds. You shyly giggled while he took his hat back from you, pulling it into his face with a fake cough.

“So… you still love me, right? Even though I don’t like bread?”

“You…”, you laughed, fingering his black locks at the base of his skull while he pulled you into his lap to hold you even closer, “…idiot. Of course I do!”

“Good.”, was all that he whispered, “You’re… everything to me.”

And you knew that you would have to make a nice comfort meal for him tomorrow.

Law deserved it, because… he looked out for everyone but himself. You knew that he got injured. Sanji told you as much when your dear boyfriend angrily stomped out of the kitchen as Luffy cleared his plate for him. He probably performed surgery on himself – again and again.

And he wouldn’t tell you. You’ve read the letters he’s sent you… all he wanted was for you to be okay. In a way, this man was just like you.

You were glad that he could be selfish about this one thing at least, especially because it brought out his jealous side… who knew he could be so cute?

#one piece #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #x reader #thetrasha writes #thetrasha requests

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wordbunch · 3 days ago

Text

Ben Grimm x reader headcanons

a/n: HEAR ME OUT. or don't. anyway this is for my weird girlies bc i SEE THEY'RE ASKING FOR IT, dinner is served 💞 essentially my brain wrote this on its own during a couple of weird days of being sick, alone, and having fever dreams post-fantastic 4 in imax 😶 FLUFF OVERLOAD ahead

meeting at work for the first time, him working as a pilot and you being ground control 🥺 two essential halves of the same thing!!!!

this man locked you down IMMEDIATELY, like "yes. this one. no one else in the universe."

being married before the fateful space mission which made the Four into Fantastic four and thinking that you have your perfect sweet life

and of course you were on ground control duty for that one, meaning you heard A LOT of unsettling things happening on that spaceship and you were just happy to have your husband back, in any way shape or form

to say the least, the first weeks after that mission were a strange and challenging time for you and Ben most of all

the other three were as supportive as ever

but going from living a calm little life in a small apartment, having cooking dates and watching a nerdy tv show in the evening, to having a soulmate who is basically a mountain, Johnny (your bestie) sticking his nose in your business all around baxter building and Herbie beeping next to you as you make dinner... was really quite something

as much as someone with an outside perspective might think, you were and remained his absolute rock

of course Ben was all like "if you want to leave me i completely understand" but your stubborn self would NEVER.

"i remember us saying 'until death do us part', and as far as i can see, we are both still very much alive." and that topic was closed

still he thought about it many more times but usually without telling you, not that he wasn't beyond grateful for your love and support, it's just that he didn't want to burden you and change your life upside down

but nevertheless, you two decided to start navigating your new reality together

he is terrified that you will be scared of him (how could you, he is still the love of your life)

initially trying to tread lightly on some topics but eventually you grow comfortable with joking about things, and seriously Ben is so sarcastic and funny, and you match that so well, that the whole team is tripping over themselves with laughter at your little banter

underneath a rocky exterior there is a heart of absolute gold and that didn't change with any physical transformation

he has sooo much love to give, and he is so devoted to you and amazed by you and feels lucky beyond measure

your laughter is his favorite sound in the world, bonus points if you think your laughter is unattractive

whatever your interests are, he will at least try to get into them, sometimes begrudgingly, sometimes he will pretend to dislike something but actually enjoy it and he likes when you tease him about it!!

behind closed doors he is the biggest softie of all time

you give him lots of words of affirmation complete with nicknames, but his heart absolutely melts at "baby" and "Benny"

when you're feeling extra romantic and darling, you will call him "handsome" but when you wanna get on his nerves, "thingy" is the way to go 😂 (don't let Johnny ever hear that one)

he is an amazing listener

sometimes you feel he over-compensates for the fact that your life had to change so much, by doing too many nice things for you; there are always flowers, coffee/tea in bed, a scented bath, your favorite food or a handwritten note waiting for you for no special occasion

always hanging out together while cooking

Whatever your insecurities are, he will claim they are his favorite things

when you lean your head on his shoulder, or press your forehead to his, or take his hand with your much smaller one, his heart grows 10 sizes

Ben has a random dislike of scented candles, while you love them - you best believe he lets you light as many as you want anyway

his taste in music is very random and niche, and that is one interest you really bond over; yes Johnny will eavesdrop and pretend he is hating on your music choices but actually be vibing

if you can play an instrument, Benny boy is even more amazed at you

of course Johnny loves asking very inappropriate questions, but the two of you play along until you leave him flabbergasted, and the two of you a laughing mess

this man can lift you up basically with one hand and it is so much fun

you do like a good pair of broad shoulders

also he won't hesitate to literally just pick you up and carry you away from a conversation if the rest of the family is being insufferable, it's hilarious and endearing 😂

if you are ever anxious, Ben is the perfect partner to have because when he hugs you and hides you away, literally nothing in the world can touch you

and yes you can still hear his heartbeat

if you love a weighted blanked, he's your perfect match, except he is only allowed to put one arm over you lest you end up squished and suffocated

it is actually a struggle for him not to love you with his full strength but he is beyond terrified of ever hurting you in any way

also has quite a soothing voice to bring you out of your sometimes loud thoughts

sitting on the balcony at night and watching the sky in silence together is one of the ways you like to unwind and sometimes some unsaid things will come out at this time

sadly Ben has a strong tendency to close himself off when something is eating at him, in his mind he has already bothered you enough for 5 lifetimes just by existing, he doesn't want to pile more things on your back

you are painfully aware of this and you try to let him be, but your heart cracks every time you walk into your room and his back is turned towards you; then you have to pry a little bit and, if nothing else, give him a bit of extra love and reassurance and cheer him up

to say he is protective would be an understatement, in small situations as well as big ones, for example his side of the bed is the one closer to the door, just in case

you are the most precious joyful thing in his life

hehe

when you guys are out in public and someone dares to throw him an offhand comment, you are READY to throw hands

some kids be calling you mrs thing in the street lmao

but luckily it is more common that he gets recognized by an enthusiastic fan, and then your eyes all but tear up in joy

he deserves good things!!!!

he is a very "that's my wife!!" person if u know what i mean

you always reassure him that you wouldn't change a thing about your unconventional love story and that he is perfect in your eyes, that he never has to think he is inconveniencing you and that you are not having a hard time because he is... himself

his clothes are ridiculously large on you, you adore it

Ben gets jealous in a sulky way for obvious reasons, even though he trusts you with his life

therefore you make a point to always latch onto his arm when you are out or at an event; your man is a hero and you are proud to be his soulmate and best friend, judgmental comments be damned

you gotta gently push him to get out there a bit more and live his life, but with you it's less intimidating

when the two of you babysit Franklin those are some of the happiest times ever, chaos love and giggles galore

he has such strong dad instincts it is just crazy, and the baby looks comically small in his arms

yes Franklin likes to climb him and yes you are laughing while internally praying to keep those memories forever

Reed and Sue trust the two of you completely and you literally offer to babysit even without them asking

those times also include all of you falling asleep after going out to the park or reading children's books in silly voices

and then it results in a bittersweet scene of Ben sprawled out on the couch, you on top of him an the baby in your arms

@ ben enjoyers plss back me up on this! <3

#from my pocketses #fantastic four #fantastic 4 #fantastic four first steps #fantastic four x reader #fantastic four fanfiction #ben grimm #ben grimm x reader #the thing #joseph quinn #pedro pascal #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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ariaste · 3 days ago

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A Not-Really-Brief Explainer on What "Unreliable Narrator" Means

Hello, Interview With the Vampire/The Vampire Lestat fandom. It has come to my attention that some of us are a little foggy on what an unreliable narrator is, what they do, what they intend, and what the rest of us are trying to say when we talk about them.

I've noticed recently this is leading to some of you feeling hurt, upset, worried, stressed, or preemptively disappointed about the next season. I want to allay some of these concerns by helping us to all get on the same page real quick.

EDIT: Literally as I was rereading the draft of this and about two minutes away from posting it, a friend of mine DMed me a link to a really great essay that @munecabrava posted yesterday which is ALSO about unreliable narrators in IWTV. (Fistbump, great minds think alike!) You should read that one as well as this one, and at the end of this essay, I will tell you WHY you should read both. I thought briefly about not posting this because her essay is already so good and makes the important points and clarifications necessary for the ongoing conversation in fandom, but... Look, I spent three hours writing this, ok? I don't want to just dump it in the trash 😂

ANYWAY. Essay below the cut:

First of all, when we say "unreliable narrator" we are NOT saying "liar" -- that is only one of many different ways that narrators can be unreliable.

Every first-person narrator (that is, an "I" narrator, as in "I went to the store") is unreliable. Period. This includes you, and it includes me, and it includes every single person who has ever lived. This is unavoidable. The opposite of "unreliability" is "objectivity," and there is no such thing as strict objectivity when it comes to a human being -- that is why there are so many structures in place in the sciences in order to help reduce bias, and why it is nearly impossible to ever fully eliminate bias.

This is such a crucial point to wrap your head around, so repeat after me: Every first-person narrator is unreliable. Every human being that has ever lived is an unreliable narrator. Let me show you an example.

Suppose you're at the bank. A bank robber comes in, and there is a kerfuffle. Everyone is safe, but the bank robber escapes with a bag of cash before the police get there. They ask everyone there to provide a description of the robber. You say he was wearing a turquoise shirt and a black hat, but you don't know if he had sunglasses or facial hair because you only saw him from the back. Another person says he was wearing a dark blue shirt. Another person says he was bald with a dark grey hat and his shirt had an elephant on it but can't remember the color. Another person can't remember his clothes at all, but they say he had a bandage on his hand, and he had a white goatee--or maybe it was a KN-95 mask? They're not sure, they only got a quick glimpse of his face from the side.

All of this is unreliable narration, because even when we're trying to tell the truth, we don't all perceive colors the same way (blue shirt? dark blue? turquoise? Elephant or no elephant?), and we all focus on different details while not noticing others (bandage on his hand, hat versus hair, mask vs goatee). There are also elements of bias present in what we've been trained to expect (for example, everyone reported that the bank robber was a man, possibly because the majority of bank robberies we see in movies and in news headlines are men; what if it turned out that it was just someone with a masc haircut and masc clothes?) as well as in our technical skill in some types of assessment (one person says the robber was 5'5, another says he was 6', another says "idk, normal height?", another says "really tall").

Especially in moments when your brain isn't at its best (such as in moments of danger, trauma, illness, physical/mental exhaustion, emotional distress, dehydration,or simple just-woke-up-and-haven't-had-coffee-yet), it is impossible for us to notice and remember every detail. So that's already one layer of unreliability: The simple sensory perception and interpretation of facts.

There is also another layer of unreliability, which is how we express those facts to a listener after the fact. Sometimes this impulse happens overtly (such as intentionally framing the bank robbery in a comedic way or otherwise downplaying the events when you tell a loved one so they don't freak out). Sometimes it happens really subtly and subconsciously (such as the word choice involved in describing the bank robber's shirt was "turquoise" instead of "sky blue", or glossing over the part where you were scared because you need your crush to think you're brave and cool).

For the vast majority of people, the expression of facts also gets distorted to some degree because they are filtered through a strongly emotional lens. For example: Your partner asks if you have time to unload the dishwasher sometime today; you privately gnash your teeth and end up telling your therapist that your partner is nagging you all the time, just like your mother, why do you always surround yourself with people who nag you constantly--

You're not lying here; you're expressing a very real and valid emotional truth, which is that you have a history of getting your toes stepped on in this way, and today your toes got stepped on again, and that was upsetting.

But you are also being an unreliable narrator -- does your partner nag you constantly, or did this just hit a sore spot and set you off? Was this situation actually identical the way it used to be with your mother, or were there differences? One absolute and incontrovertible difference is that in those formative experiences with your mother, you were a child, but in this current situation with your partner, you're an adult. "It's just like with my mother" is unreliable narration because now you have agency -- but the feelings are still real; your genuine emotional experience is one part of the whole truth.

Saying that you're being an unreliable narrator in this situation is absolutely not saying that you're lying, it's simply saying that there are pieces missing and that we have not yet arrived at the Objective Factual Truth. For example, if we ask your partner what happened, they're going to be an unreliable narrator because their experiences are filtered through THEIR emotions and THEIR mindset -- in this case, their unreliable narration might be, "On my way out the door to work, I was mentally planning what my One Daily Chore was going to be when I got home, so I asked my partner what their schedule was like, since sometimes they're busy. They thought about it for a second while I was putting my shoes on, then said they'd do the dishwasher, so I'll plan to take the trash out. :)" Upon being confronted with your version of events, their response might be genuine surprise and apology that this interaction came across as nagging -- such a possibility sincerely did not occur to them, and they didn't even see your upset face because they were busy tying their sneakers.

If we think about this too hard and allow ourselves to get existentially despairing about it, we start crying about things like, "But if everyone is an unreliable narrator, then how do we figure out what the truth is??? Does truth even exist? Is anything real? Oh god, what if nothing is real!?!"

Shhhh. It's okay. Truth does exist, and we can figure it out. We do that by triangulating the approximate truth through multiple viewpoints. You know this already! Imagine the last time some Drama happened in your friend group: Amy is talking shit about Beth, but Cathy claims that Derek was the one really at fault because of what he said to Esi, and so on and so forth -- the only way to untangle the bullshit and figure out what actually happened at that horrible sleepover you missed is to ask everyone for their side of the story.

And that's basically what IWTV/TVL s3 is going to be doing. I guarantee you it is not going to be about "proving Claudia lied", nor "throwing Louis under the bus", nor 100% condemning Armand for the full blame of absolutely everything that has ever happened, nor saying "We should believe Lestat more than everyone else, because he's telling more of the truth. :)" He's not. He is 100% not. He is not telling more of the truth. This is not the vibe. This is not what unreliable narrators are about. At best, he is providing a different angle on the shared truths that he has in common with the others. It's about gathering more data, not erasing or discarding past data.

Imagine that all of these characters are standing in a circle around a table, and there is a big pile of Stuff on it. Each of these godawful vampires, beautiful princesses with a disorder, poor little meowmeows et al describes everything that they can see -- some of them describe similar objects if they're standing nearby each other and have nearly the same perspective on the pile, but there are always going to be something they can't see because it's on the other side. That's unreliable narration. Even if everyone is telling the exact honest truth according to their perspective, they've only got part of the story.

In order to find the full, real truth of all the items that are on the table (or all the details of what happened during a Situation), you need everyone's cooperation in order to get a full description (and you need them to stop yelling at each other for two seconds and throwing around accusations about how that thing got on the table in the first place and whether perhaps SOMEONE could shed light on where their favorite hat disappeared to, by the way, HMM???). Once you herd these cats into some semblance of organized narrative threads, then you collect all the bits and pieces, verify the facts by comparing them against each other, and piece the truth together like a jigsaw puzzle.

When unreliable narrators are emphasized in fiction, the narrative is constructed with the expectation that you will be participating -- that you will want to participate and that you will enjoy participating and that the reason you're here is for the purposes of participation. It's like showing up to a murder mystery dinner or a D&D session or, indeed, a jigsaw puzzle session at your friend's house: Your host is implicitly expecting that when you accept the invitation, it's because you're interested in being part of the day's enrichment activity. You're not just being handed the jigsaw puzzle or the murder mystery already solved, because that wouldn't be much fun and it'd defeat the purpose of the puzzle, wouldn't it? You're not walking into D&D to find the boss battle already finished and all the sidequests completed. The fun part is doing the thing and figuring it out. You're MEANT to be figuring it out.

It's not about whether someone inherently Is A Liar or not. It's about doing the detective work to figure out when they told the truth, and how, and why, and what they missed, and what they saw that no one else did, and if maybe they did intentionally fib at some point, and who they fibbed to (someone else? or just themself?), and what their reasons and motivations were for fibbing, and why fibbing worked better than honesty in their pursuit of getting what they want, and what the nature of their fibbing says about them as a complex wonderful fascinating person with depth and nuance and a soul.

Basically, you're supposed to be Daniel Molloy about it. And you have to be Daniel Molloy about it, because the actual Daniel Molloy is also an unreliable narrator who might not hand you the whole truth wrapped up in gift wrap with a bow -- and even if he claimed to be doing so, are you really going to trust him without thinking for yourself and doing a careful rummage? He might have gotten something wrong. He might have forgotten something by accident or by vampire amnesia, or he might have left something out on purpose because it didn't fit the narrative he chose, or he might have gotten distracted by Armand standing across the room looking gorgeous and totally did not listen to the words that were being said to him. He too is an unreliable narrator, and you're SUPPOSED to check his work and call him out when he fucks up.

That's the game. That's the game. Unreliable narrators are an personal engraved invitation for you to engage in an enrichment activity. No one else at this gaming table CARES about solemnly cracking out the labelmaker and putting a neat little label on The Supreme Liar Of All Liars Who Is The Most Bad Because They Lied Most; that's not the point! That's not the game! (And even if it was the game, locating the Supreme Liar would be something delightful and exciting and a FUN PRIZE, not a furious and damning moral judgment. In this house, we love a Supreme Liar. That's ur local poor little meow meow.)

In conclusion: Everyone is an unreliable narrator. Unreliable narration is not the same thing as lying. The whole point of unreliable narrators is to rotate them in your mind and chew on them, and they'd rotate in a really boring way if they told the whole perfect objective truth all the time -- it'd be like chewing on plain boiled chicken instead of adding spices and flavors and texture. Fiction is an enrichment activity, and puzzles are fun.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, I hoped this helped people.

EDIT: Okay, so, as mentioned at the beginning, @munecabrava wrote an excellent Unreliable Narrators and IWTV essay yesterday. Your homework assignment is to read her essay and compare/contrast with this one as if both she and I are unreliable narrators (because we are, on account of both being human, even though we're both genuinely and sincerely attempting to explain the same concept in good faith). This is practice for you in the kinds of questions you can ask about two different, parallel accounts: What truths match up? What does my essay emphasize or leave out? What does her essay emphasize or leave out? What hints are there in her essay about having a background as a scholar? What hints are there in mine about having a background as an author? And so forth.

Now get out there and play some games with the text. I love you.

#interview with the vampire #the vampire lestat #iwtv #amc iwtv #iwtvl

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 3 days ago

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Times are hard right now financially. The Big Beautiful Bill has been signed and where I live my way of living is at risk... Due to my autism and anxiety getting a job is hard since I get overstimulated and have some trauma from retail during high school so I was qualified for food stamps and social security, but now with this bill I might not even pay rent or buy groceries all cause the rich want more money...

So I'm opening fanfic/fanart commissions.

I HATE asking you guys for favors with money, I rarely push my Patreon or the previous commission attempt with fanart since I hate feeling like I'm demanding or pushing anyone, but honestly this is the only thing I can think of. Now, I realize when debating what to do that a majority of you followed me for my writing than my art, and after being inspired by ColeyDoesThings's video shorts of and main video of the Fanfic Cafe and her video of the Fanic Parlor, I decided to open my own:

Found the template here on Twitter just edited the stuff I can't/am not well good at and my fandoms

These are the fandoms I'm going to work on for now since it's my most comfort point/where I'm most confident on writing in, but other fandoms will be added one day.

Pricing Range: <1,000 words $10 < 5,000 words $25 < 10,000 words $45 < 20,000 words $80 < 50,000 words $180 $5–$15 per add-on trope $15–$20 for explicit scenes $10–$30 for high-intensity angst, slow burn, or heavy themes like Hanahaki or unrequited love (These pricing are more based on hours/days (if days are slow) I'll spend with the fic especially if I'm going to do research if it's in a special setting or if I'm not used to a trope)

If you have a OC you want me to add in the fic just give me a very in-dept look of the OC from description, backstory, and even habits so I would make them perfect.

Also if you want a special Spotify (it'd be private with QR code in the story) to help submerse you into your fic better it'd be 5 songs for $5 and 10–15 songs for $10.

Every work will be PDF with a watermark.

As for the Art Commissions they're similar to my art commissions last time's but different!

There will be premade backgrounds you can pick that's free, and I'll tweak/edit only a bit if it if you have a specific look. (The backgrounds will have a watermark when I share them for you to pick them so when you get the official art it'll be watermark free).

Prices: Bust Sketch: $10 Clean Bust Lineart: $15 Colored Bust: $20 Half-body Color: $25 Full-body Color: $30–40+ (These are prices based off how many hours and characters I will spend)

The fandoms will be the same as the writing commissions but I will sadly exclude TF2, Sally Face, Invader Zim, Creepypasta, and Gravedale High since I am not confident enough to draw those fandom justice just yet, maybe I'll open them up if the request is simple but for now it's sadly not happening.

If you have a OC from a fandom you'd like me to draw, just like with the writing commissions I'll need a in-dept look of them but also a somewhat reference of there look/aesthetic so I can be as accurate as possible but if you rather send a moodboard with a in-dept paragraph instead that's good too.

I WILL NOT: So sexual scenes (I am not comfortable and not experienced on that kind of art yet, even for my adult graphic novels I am not yet confident of it) Full blown furry art (No judgment by any means, I just suck at drawing it. But characters like werewolves and satyrs are on the table) Hate on a character or ship Insane gore intended to hurt a character, person, ship, or fandom Drug Use (week and smoking is okay though) And for comics I will only make four-five-six pages

Each commission will be sent to you via PM, signed, and watermarked

I have right to turn down any order based on problematic ships like SebaCiel, Claudois, any of the teachers in NRC with the students, incest, stuff like that. (Your rare ships will be accepted, don't you worry boo!) I will also refuse the order/cancel it if no proper payment will be submitted within 24 hours.

If you're willing to do a commission with me, just hit me up in the inbox with your order, we'll chat for a bit about your cafe order and I'll start once the payment is submitted. I will accept Venmo for the time being. Since it'll be inbox/ordering I will turn off the anon option for right now

The inbox will ONLY BE FOR COMMISSIONS, for right now at least. BUT! You can still drop your ask in my Google Form, it'll be looked at and answered. If you do put a ask in the inbox by accident, it's fine, but I'll put it to the side for a different time.

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leviathan-supersystem · 3 days ago

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i'm not against building new housing, my position has been, from the start, that both new housing *and* tamping down on speculation needs to be part of the strategy to address the housing crisis. which you seem to roughly agree with me on?

Second, as I argued in my first reply, speculation exacerbates the housing affordability crisis and ought to be duly addressed

so i'm not sure what point you're arguing, or trying to argue. I guess some kind of chicken and the egg debate?

but it is ultimately a symptom downstream of our underlying housing shortage.

but which is downstream from which doesn't seem nearly as important to me as addressing both at the same time.

Tier 1 city prices were unaffected and remain high, the rest of the market crashed, China began weakening/rolling back the policy in 2023, and are now trying other policies to prop up their housing market because they ultimately caused the crash they were trying to avert.

see, this gets into why liberalism as an ideology fundamentally can't address the housing crisis. there is no way to quickly and significantly reduce housing prices without a "housing market crash" because "rapid significant drop in housing prices" and "housing market crash" are the same thing.

which brings me to:

China was not trying to prevent a housing market crash, but rather trying to *cause* a controlled housing market crash by popping the bubble earlier rather than later so that the fallout would be more manageable. that's where, for example, the rolling back of the 3 red lines (which were intended as temporary measures to flush our the speculative market in the first place) and other efforts to slow the crash of the housing market come in.

if you consider crashing the housing market to be an unacceptable cost to lowering housing prices, you're not equipped to address housing prices, full stop. because crashing the housing market isn't a "cost" of quickly and significantly lowering housing costs, it's a synonym for it. if "yimby" tactics could actually lower housing costs quickly and significantly through increasing supply, this would also crash the housing market. the only reason it won't do the latter is that it can't do the former.

also, how do you reconcile your acknowledgement that rolling the 3 red lines policy back is an effort to slow the housing market crash with your claim that the 3 red lines policy didn't reduce housing prices via tamping down on speculation?

(also, so what if tier 1 city prices were unaffected? non-tier 1 city prices were certainly affected, and i consider that a success.)

After reading more, I'm inclined to think that the policy that more directly contributed to a reduction in property (land) speculation was the new rule that undeveloped land after 1 year would incur a fee of 20% of its value, and undeveloped land after 2 years could be seized by the state without reimbursement.

perhaps this is a factor, buy if you want to claim that the 3 Red Lines policy wasn't also a major factor then you don't know what you're talking about. the 3 Red Lines policy was instrumental in forcing Evergrande to liquidate it's speculative housing assets. also, how do you reconcile this with you saying the 3 red lines policy crashed the housing market?

Again, I would not say that the three red lines policy 'worked' as it was intended. "The analysis indicates that too rapid a tightening of financing restrictions may impact normal business operations and lead to a debt crisis."

"may"

well let me know if that actually happens because otherwise you're just speaking in hypotheticals.

You don't have to take my word for it though, or even Forbes' word for it. The people doing the housing profiteering don't mind telling you exactly why they're able to make so much money at it:

oh well lets just take what they say at face value and not question it.

at any rate, I don't deny that it might take slightly more effort for the speculative market to soak up housing if there's more housing (as i have repeatedly said i am in favor of more construction) but only slightly, and if you just address supply without addressing speculation, the issue won't be solved, as the new housing will in time be swallowed up by the speculative market. but you already conceded that addressing the speculative market is necessary, so again, i'm not sure what point you're actually arguing here.

We can try to redistribute the 15 million vacant homes that exist, but putting every 3-season mountain cabin in Maine or lake cottage in Northern Michigan on the housing market will not help the nurses and techs that the hospitals in Portland or Metro Detroit are trying to hire find an affordable place to live with a tolerable commute.

okay? but it will help the homeless people in Maine by bringing down the cost of housing in the state, and Maine does, in fact, have a massive homelessness problem.

also, Portland also has a significant number of vacant apartments:

detroit too:

https://www.freep.com/story/money/business/2024/10/28/downtown-detroit-apartment-rental-rate-vacany/75807854007/

also, not sure why you've shifted the conversation from vacant apartments and housing being used as a speculative investment, to vacation homes. sike, I know why, it's because vacation homes are more likely to be in rural areas, so you can use that to pretend all vacant housing is in rural areas and can't help address housing issues in urban areas.

at any rate, circling around to this:

The idea of fixing the housing crisis by filling these 15M vacant homes doesn't take into consideration locations of job opportunities, commute times, transit access, social services access, GHG emissions, people's existing support networks, etc. etc. etc. It is not a solution that will let us avoid building substantial amounts of new housing in places where there is actually demand for it.

cool well at no point (certainly not in this thread) have i ever said there wouldn't be areas where new construction would be necessary. I have said, instead, that *both* building new housing *and* making better use of the housing we already have by addressing housing speculation and other forms of hoarding will be necessary to address the housing crisis. but you've already conceded the points i'm actually making- that housing speculation is a significant factor in the housing crisis (though you quibble over how significant) and that policy enacted by china could address this (though you quibble over which policy) so you have to shadow-box against the imaginary version of me that lives in your head rent free (lucky!) since you've already conceded the point being made by the actual real life me.

Could you explain the abundance movement I feel like they popped up outta nowhere after Mamdani got the nom

they're a little older than that but only barely. utterly astroturfed "movement" intended to market right-wing economic policy to progressives. has basically no grassroots support whatsoever. a large segment of it is former neoreactionaries who are trying to distance themselves from that movement since it evolved into the alt-right and some working class people got involved, because these are people who hate working class people.

basically, they're trying to hijack the democratic party the same way they tried to hijack the republican party- which they largely succeeded at, but they view as a failure because the neoreactionary movement lost a lot of it's original anti-populist character when it became mainstream.

like literally the "abundance mmovement" is just flowery progressive-sounding language to market "cut taxes for the rich and deregulate businesses" economic policy that's literally all it is.

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sapphirelightningbug · 2 days ago

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Mother Knows Best [Adrian Chase x Reader]

Literally couldn’t get a photo of his mother from the trailer to save my life

DC Masterlist | Request Rules

Summary: Adrian’s mom thinks you’re dating her son, especially because of how much he talks about you.

Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: Course language, Suggestive language, mentions of murder, Adrian is a whole warning himself

Comment if you'd like to be tagged in future works!

Taglist in the comments!

You and Adrian had met when you were working with Peacemaker and the rest of the 11th Street Kids. You'd found him strange at first; his obsession with Chris was different. It was obvious he had some issues, not that you thought poorly of him because of it, but he had some social problems. He didn't really have a filter, and he could be crass. Still, you became friends cause, like Adebayo said, he was a good guy. You’d been hanging out at Adrian’s house all day; he’d had the day off, and you decided to come over. Adrian lived with his mom, who'd been at work; his brother had moved out a few years prior, and his parents had divorced a long time ago. She decided having Adrian around wouldn't be too bad; he cleaned up around the house and took care of everything well. You were lying back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Fargo was playing on the big box TV that sat in the corner of his room. Adrian had a lot of old stuff in his room. He was lying behind you on his back, with his head in his hands, his arms crossed behind him. You both heard the keys unlocking the front door, he shot up, and you moved to get up and look at him. “Is that your mom?” You asked, yawning and stretching your eyes, meeting his bespectacled ones. Blue eyes stared back with a little bit of panic. “What?” You looked at him, confused, hands grasping into the cream colored bedspread you sat upon. “You just haven't met my mom,” he explains. You nod. “Yeah, but it's not that big of an issue, I can meet her now,” you smile. “Unless you don't want me to?” You look at him suspiciously, and he stares back with that same dumb puppy dog expression. Adrian’s mom shouts his name from downstairs. “Alright, Chase, let's get down there before she comes up here and suspects the worst.” He chuckles. "If I were fucking you, she would know," there he is again with his crass statements and nonexistent filter. You rolled your eyes, used to it at this point. "You aren't getting this pussy, even if you were to beg for it," You retorted, always trying to keep him on his toes. "I don't beg." His voice was tight, and you knew there was something there. "Yeah, and Aquaman doesn't fuck fish." You raised your eyebrow, waiting for him to challenge, but he grinned. "I knew you believed me!" You shake your head at his antics; it was all so stupid. The two of you bounced off each other so well. "Alright, let's get this over with." You stood making your way over to the door, bare toes sinking into the soft carpet beneath you. You placed your hands on your hips, waiting for him to get up. He groaned and joined you at the door, sweatshirt and loose jeans drooping off of his lanky body as he walked. You pushed him in front of you so his mom wouldn't see you first, and he swatted at your hand. The floor transitioned to hardwood from carpet leaving his room. The stairs had a runner rug on them. Stepping down the first few steps, you grabbed the wooden handrail and followed Adrian down. When you stepped into the kitchen at his side and saw the brunette woman, she had placed her brown leather purse down onto the laminate countertop. She wasn't paying attention when the two had entered the room, so when she looked up, she was startled. "Mrs. Chase, it's really lovely to meet you." You smile, "I don't mean to intrude." Her face changes from a look of confusion to a grin. "Oh, you aren't intruding, darling. You must be (Y/N). Adrian talks about you a lot." You turn back to him with your eyebrows knitted as if to ask, 'What's that about?' He makes a stupid face that makes you crack up. "He talks about me, huh?" You chuckle, and she nods. "Yeah, I have a hard time getting him to stop when he starts." Your smile only grows, and he begins to get embarrassed. His mom turns to him, her deep red lips parting when she says, "She is as pretty as you'd described." His face heats up. "Shut up, Ma," He's a tomato at this point, and you can't help but let out a snort.

"No, please, Mrs. Chase, keep going. You said he was talking about me being beautiful?" Adrian groaned, and you shoved his arm playfully. "Yes, he always talks about you. I'm really glad you make my son so happy." That one confused you. Did she think you two were together? "Alright, ma, thank you for that. We are gonna go back upstairs. You cannot follow us," He grabbed your arm and dragged you back upstairs. "It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Chase!" You were barely able to get it out before he got you all the way upstairs. You honestly forgot how strong he was. It made your stomach twist when he manhandled you like that. Once he got you to his room, you flung yourself onto his bed. "Okay, what the fuck was that?" "That? Pfft- That was nothing!" He brushed it off with an uncomfortable look on his face. He stood in front of you, about two feet of distance between you. “Your mom definitely thinks we're dating,” he looks confused. “She didn't say that,” he thought over the conversation. “It was implied,” you raise your eyebrow, waiting to see how he would defend himself next. “I hate when people do that implied stuff,” He groaned, frustrated. “So what are you gonna do about that?” He was tense, and for the first time ever, he didn’t have a witty comeback. “I don’t think it’s such a bad idea,” he stares down at his hands. “I mean, you know I like you, I tell you all the time,” he swallows, almost nervous for your reaction. He wrings his hands as he waits for a response. “I thought you meant like friends, not like a relationship.” You look at him, and he looks uncomfortable; it wasn’t something you were used to. “Not that I’m not okay with that, uh, I think you’re really cool and, I like you too!” He looks up excited. “You do?” He was bouncing on his heels. His quick change of emotions almost gives you whiplash. “Why didn’t you say so?” You smirk at his excitement. He moved to sit next to you on the bed. “You know it’s not as easy for some people to admit their feelings.” “You knew I’d like you, though,” he took your hand in his and began trailing shapes over it. “I mean, it’s me, you know me!” “I have to admit you intimidate me a little when it comes to this romantic stuff.” his eyebrows furrowed, and he looked around and then down at himself. “Me? I intimidate you?” You were right, you sounded silly. Despite his violent streak as Vigilante, he would never hurt you or your friends. He was about as intimidating as a five-pound chihuahua. “I guess it’s just like, you’re so open emotionally, and I don’t 100% know how to react to that all the time,” you looked uncertain, but he seemed to understand.

"I don't know what to say, so I'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" You nod, and he leans in; he doesn't have so much experience with emotional and physical intimacy. That's not to say he's a virgin or has never been with a woman. As Vigilante, he fucks around with Chris and whatever girls he has around; he just wasn't used to someone liking him as well, Adrian. He captures your lips between his. It's oddly endearing how nervous he seems to be. The kiss lasts longer than you expected. One of his hands rests at your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. He gets sloppy with it after a few seconds, and eventually, he pulls back. He pushes his glasses back up his face. "That was awesome," He grins, and you look at him, smirking at his antics. He peels himself from you and brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. "You're a dork," You snort, and he laughs too. "So I was thinking for our first date we could go kill a couple of guys I've been looking into, real shitheads, racist assholes." You grin, and he looks excited. You've only been able to kill people together when it came to the butterflies. "Does one of them happen to be Chris' father?" Adrian shakes his head. "Unfortunately, no, but I think some of these incest ridden crack babies with fetal alcohol syndrome would probably support him, so good enough?" "Yeah, good enough." You grab his hand, and he almost blushes. "Oh my god, you cannot blush from some hand holding after the crap you say!" "What? I like you, you're like hot!"

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #dcu #dc x reader #peacemaker #dc comics #dc universe #x reader #adrian chase #vigilante peacemaker #adrian chase fanfiction #freddie stroma

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goobstars · 11 hours ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary : after years of only feeling hatred and despair, that all changed when you decided to invite sebastian to go stargazing.

tags : romance, fluff, a little bit of angst, and falling in love.

note : if love isn't like this, i don't want it.

when sebastian was still in the blacksite, he believed that escaping the facility would bring him joy. he believed that seeing the sky would make all the anguish he had felt these past few years vanish.

yet, as he peered out the window to view the night sky in his current home, he couldn't have been more wrong.

it had been a few months since him and painter escaped the blacksite, and while painter was living his best life, sebastian couldn't say the same. the despair that had coated his mind in the facility was still present even though he was free, or physically free, at least.

his mental state was still held captive by the constant nightmares he had of being back in hadal blacksite, as well as the memories of what he had done to survive down there flashing in his mind constantly. the joy he strived to have on the surface couldn't have seemed more out of reach than it did now, and that was fairly idiotic considering he wasn't even present in the blacksite anymore.

he was on land in a house near the beach, he had food, and he had you and painter.

his eyebrows furrowed at the thought of you.

you had helped him and painter escape by giving away all of the research you had collected, and over time, sebastian was left with more than enough data to blackmail innovation inc into getting them out of the facility.

and when sebastian and painter were boarding the submarine to leave, you were there. you watched from afar with a smile, yet he could note the slight fear on your face. he couldn't tell if it was because you'd be alone now that him and painter were leaving, or if you were worried about what urbanshade would do to you if they found out you had helped them escape.

so, as soon as sebastian got painter situated on the submarine, he gestured for you to join them.

every day, he thinks about that. it's the only good memory that crosses his mind, and it's a little break from the other horrid thoughts that he recalls.

he remembers the way your face beamed when he invited you to join them, and you practically threw off your diving gear before darting onto the submarine.

it was a risk, of course. urbanshade could've tracked you down, but oddly enough, it was a risk he was content with taking as soon as you gave him a hug to thank him.

he still remembers the conversations you had with painter in that submarine. you both were laughing at random things painter doodled while sebastian just watched.

that moment was probably the closest thing he's ever felt to joy, but even then, it wasn't much. all the sight got out of him was a quiet chuckle.

which you had heard, by the way, and you gave him a wide smile before turning your attention back towards painter.

he still vividly remembers your smile, and he questioned why. you had just smiled, yet his mind treated it as if it were a core memory.

sebastian wasn't able to think about it much as he heard footsteps echo throughout the house, and he peered over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

you stared at him from across the living room, and a look of confusion crossed your face. "you're still awake?"

"is it that surprising?" sebastian remarked your query, and you thought for a moment before shrugging. "fair point."

his eyes flickered across your form, and he noted how you had your shoes on. you weren't in your usual pajamas, but rather you were actually dressed like you were going out.

you seemed to catch onto his stare as you pointed towards the door, "i was going to go look at the stars for a bit. do you want to come?"

"what if painter needs something?"

"painter powered off a long time ago, seb. it'll be fine."

despite your reassurance, sebastian still hesitated for a second. he wasn't really used to leaving painter alone, nor was he even used to leaving the house. he would stay cooped up in here for days at a time, and he'd really only leave when you made him.

and he was pretty sure that's what was going on right now.

"you're going to make me go with you, aren't you?"

"yep!"

a sigh erupted from sebastian as he turned away from the window, and a slight smile made its way to his face once he noticed the way you perked up at his movement.

you rushed over to the door as you opened it, and sebastian plucked off his jacket from the coat hanger near the door while you stepped outside. he slipped on the jacket before following you, and he closed the door behind him.

a chilling breeze shifted through the air while you both walked away from your home, and the sound of the waves hitting the shore echoed through the quiet night.

the sand below you moved with every step you took, and you kept looking over your shoulder to make sure sebastian was following you. even though you knew he was, you still kept looking back every few seconds.

the lights of your house soon faded as you got closer to the water, and you stopped in a place that was close to it, but far enough to where you wouldn't get wet.

you sat down on the sand before gesturing to a spot somewhat near you, and sebastian moved to sit down. he stretched out his tail a bit while you viewed the sky, and a silence casted over you both. usually, when you were around, it wasn't quiet.

and that made him why you even wanted to go stargazing. sure, some people talked while doing it, but most of the time, it was a silent activity, and you weren't really known for being quiet.

sebastian barely even glanced at the sky as he slightly turned to face you, and he noticed the way you were looking at the sky, but you didn't seem to be observing it. your eyes were clouded by thought, and it made him clear his throat before speaking up.

"did you really just come out here to stargaze?" he asked, and once you shook your head, he gave you a look of perplexity. "then why did you come out here?"

"because i just wanted to think."

"you have the ability to do that?" you shot sebastian a playful glare at his tease, and he chuckled at your expression. though, as soon as your scowl eased up, he tilted his head. "what did you want to think about?"

"random things," you admitted with a shrug, and you stared up at the sky before continuing.

"like, what if everything around me is just something i created in my mind?" you flopped down on the ground, and the sand beneath you shifted while sebastian raised an eyebrow. though, it wasn't out of confusion, but rather surprise. he was aware you had a habit of thinking about random things, but usually, they were silly stuff.

he was pretty sure this was the first time you've ever talked about something deep with him.

"that's a possibility, i guess..." sebastian mumbled as he copied your action, and he leaned back onto the sand. the grains acted like a pillow for his head while he looked up at the stars, and he noticed how you had fallen quiet. his attention flickered away from the sky as he stared at you.

you held an expression that made your hesitation evident, but despite your uncertainty, you still took in a breath to speak.

"well, if everything around me is created from imagination, then i would say you're the best thing i've ever thought of."

did he hear you right?

sebastian's eyes widened while he waited for you to say something—anything, really. he waited for you to remark your statement with a laugh about how you were just joking, or about how what you said was corny.

yet, you just remained silent. you glanced at him for a moment before gifting him a smile—that same smile you had given him when you both were on the submarine.

you peered away so you could stare up at the sky, but sebastian didn't even bother to move his head.

your eyes were on the stars, but his eyes were on you.

he watched the way your gaze gleamed the longer you stared up at the sky, and he noticed that your smile had faded into a softer one.

with each second that passed, his heart seemed to pick up the pace in its beats. his face grew warm despite the chill breeze that surrounded you both, and the hand that rested on his chest grasped at his shirt.

he could practically hear his heartbeat in his ears—only for it to be silenced when your laughter rang out.

you lifted a hand to point at the sky. "those stars make a silly shape..."

you gestured to an area that was coated by stars, and as you tilted your head to see if he was looking, your eyes met.

the hue that coated his face darkened as he met your gaze, but the colour seemingly went unnoticed by you while you turned your attention back to the sky.

and at that moment, everything seemed to click.

despite the darkness that surrounded you both, everything appeared more lively. the stars flickered and gleamed, and the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore lightened up into a gentle shift. the thick feeling that had coated his lungs cleared up, and for the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe. the cold air seeped into his lungs while goosebumps crawled against his arms, and the feeling concerned him a bit. he hadn't had those in a while.

he hadn't felt like this in a while.

at first, he questioned why this was happening, but his query was answered as soon as he peered at you.

and his heart skipped a beat.

no.

no, no, no, no, no—he couldn't do this. not now, not ever.

he had been keeping to himself for so long. he had kept the idea of love far out of his mind for a reason, and he did that because he knew how he was. he was aware of what he had done.

at this point, he was unlovable, and he had accepted that long ago. he had accepted that he wouldn't feel what the authors described, what the musicians sang about, or what the artists painted deep into their canvases.

yet, if he had truly accepted it, then why was he feeling that way now?

why was his mind describing you like he never had before? why was his heart beating to a rhythm he had never heard before? why was his mind painting you in ways he had never seen before?

a low breath left his lips as he shifted his head so he was facing the sky, but that didn't prevent him from glancing at you every now and then.

there was just something so puzzling about why you were making him feel this way. it's not like he just met you, for he'd actually been around you for quite a long time. why didn't he feel like this then? why was he just feeling like this now?

"you okay, seb?"

no, he was not, but he couldn't tell you that.

at your question, he flickered his eyes towards the sky in hopes you didn't catch him staring, and he hummed. "yeah, why?"

"you're just being quiet."

a quiet chuckle left his throat, and he couldn't tell if it was one out of amusement or apprehension. "aw, does someone like when i talk?"

his peer moved back onto you as you sat up, and you leaned against your hands while your eyebrows were furrowed. "i do, actually—yeah."

why was every word that left your lips making these feelings worse?

why were you even saying these things? were you aware of what you were doing to him?

as your eyes remained locked on his, it was clear you were being serious. you weren't saying this stuff just for the fun of it; you were speaking your mind.

and while he wasn't certain why you were suddenly speaking your mind, he was certain about one thing.

you had him completely screwed.

#𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 #·˚ ༘ ~ writing #roblox pressure #roblox pressure x reader #roblox pressure x you #pressure #pressure x reader #pressure x you #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sillys #romantic.

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yall-batman-fanfic · 3 days ago

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Motherly Advice | Arsenal/Roy Harper & Batmom

Synopsis: Fluff-angst. Vivian gets a call from Roy for help, she just didn’t expect it was a baby he needed help with.

Note: Part of the Continuity or the Original Storyline of Bruce Wayne /Batman x Vivian Pryor

When Vivian got the call from Jason, she wasn't expecting to hear Roy's voice at the end of the line.

"Hi, Mrs. P."

"Roy? Hi. Is everything okay?" She got up to leave the faculty office and went to one of the empty classrooms to continue the call.

"Yeah, yeah. My phone died, so I asked Jay if I could use his to call you." His voice was weak, like someone who was defeated but was trying so hard to keep it together.

"Me?"

"Yeah. Jay said you could help?"

"What did Jason say I could help out on?"

"I think it's best you come and see. Jay will meet you somewhere to pick you up. Can we do it after your work?"

"Of course. Roy, if it is an emergency, I can go now. Is this something life-threatening?"

He chuckled. "Not in that way. I guess not. We can meet up after work."

"Okay, Roy. Can you hand Jason the phone?"

"Okay, thanks, Mrs. P."

"Anytime."

There was a shift at the other line; the phone was being passed. Then she heard Jason's voice. "Ma."

"Jay, what's going on?" She asked.

He sighed. It was a long one. "It's really, really complicated, but nothing you can't handle."

"Okay. But I need to know. Are you both okay?"

"Yeah, Ma. We're fine. Listen, I'll pick you up at GU. Did you take your car?"

"No, Bruce dropped me off today. I'll see you both later."

Later came much longer than Vivian wanted. She should have known that the more she had something waiting, the slower time moved. She would constantly check her watch and when she did, she would find only a minute or five had passed; it only added to her worries. When her last class ended, she quickly packed up, called Jason, and headed to the front and waited for him.

She should not be surprised but she was when she saw him standing by a car parked at the side of the road. She quickly ran to him and brought him to an embrace but before he could do the same, she was checking him from his head, his hair, face, his shoulders, arms, hands, his body to see if he was hurt at all.

"Ma, Ma, I'm fine," he held her to stop. "I'm fine. No injuries."

"Then what's wrong? What's going on, Jason? Is Roy okay? Did he..." relapse was what she wanted to say but she didn't want to sound too harsh about it.

"No, no, he didn't. But there is something that we need your help on."

"Can you at least tell me what it is so I'm not worrying all the time? Jason, I was on edge the whole day thinking what could have happened to you both."

Jason scratched the back of his head sheepishly. A mannerism he made whenever he was at fault or guilty about. "Right, sorry about that. It's this."

Opening the passenger seat door, Jason pointed to the bags of groceries he got at the back and one of them were boxes of baby formula and a car seat.

"Jason Peter Todd--"

"She's not mine! Can we? Please get in the car and I'll take us to Roy's."

~ * ~

The apartment Roy is staying in is a standard building in Gotham City, and it happens to be Jason, which he told her when they were taking the stairs to his floor. Roy, as it turns out, came to his door one day with a surprise that no guy ever wanted to see at two in the morning. Entering the apartment, Vivian was met by the sound of a wailing infant and the sight of a young man trying so hard to make the crying stop.

Roy rocked her to and from gently, patted the infant's back, and talked to the girl---asking her what he was doing wrong.

"Roy, cavalry's here," Jason called out. He closed the door behind him. "I got the things too."

"Mrs. P, I..." Roy approached her. He looked tired. He looked desperate and near to tears. "She won't stop crying and I tried everything, I changed her diaper, I fed her, but she won't stop crying unless she's asleep. And she only sleeps when she's so tired from crying. I don't..."

Vivian dropped her back and removed her jacket and took the crying baby. She sat down on the couch and checked the infant for the cause of such distress.

"She's a little bloated. What milk are you giving her?" Vivian asked as she lightly pressed on the belly.

"The one you'd find in the grocery store with a picture of a baby," Jason answered.

"Jason."

"What? It's the truth!"

"You might be giving her the wrong milk, that's why. Have you taken her to the pediatrician?"

"I haven't," Roy admitted. If it were possible, he looked even more embarrassed and defeated when he did. "I only got her a couple of days ago, her Mom... she and I aren't..."

Vivian reached out and held him. "It's okay, Roy. What matters now is making sure your baby girl is all right. If it's all right, we will head to Sacred Heart. My pediatrician is there around this time, we can have..."

"Lian, her name's Lian."

"We can have Lian checked, and we'll find out what's wrong. Okay?"

"Okay... I'll go change. She barfed all over me earlier."

"Go freshen up, we'll wait right here."

Nodding, Roy got up and left to the room, which she guessed was Jason's. Jason called out that he should take a shower too and the last they heard of him was the bathroom door closing. Alone in the room, Jason sighed and sat across Vivian.

"You should have told me about this on the phone, Jason," Vivian said. Lian has stopped crying but was still whimpering in her arms. "This is an emergency."

"Roy was already embarrassed to ask for help. It took me forever to convince him that I call for backup. He knew you'd jump the moment I said the word 'baby', so he told me to not mention anything at all."

"Anything I should know about Lian's mother?"

"You know Cheshire?"

Vivian did and she couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, me too. Thanks for coming over, Ma."

Once Roy was finished showering and getting dressed, they went down to Jason's car and strapped little Lian to the car seat. Vivian sat at the back to tend to Lian while Jason and Roy were at the front with the former driving to Sacred Heart. Arriving at the hospital, Vivian was the first to be greeted by the staff and all were confused to find her holding an infant while flanked by two men, one of them being her son. Luckily for them, her pediatrician was in and just finished with a patient, they were able to squeeze in and have Lian checked.

After filling in the doctor about what Vivian knew, she was about to leave but Roy asked her to stay.

"I can't do this alone. Please," he told her.

So she stayed there with him and Lian. She let Roy tell the doctor his experience with Lian these past few weeks, especially the crying. She won't stop crying. When the doctor gave a diagnosis or an explanation to the cause of all the troubles, he's faced with the infant that had bit too much jargon, Vivian explained it to Roy.

They were given a prescription for Lian's milk and other vitamins she needed. Jason headed down to the pharmacy to get the list while Vivian accompanied Roy to the front where they settled the bill and set an appointment for Lian's next checkup. Vivian did offer to have them part of the Helena Wayne Foundation to help them out, but Roy insisted he paid. He was more than capable to do so.

Returning to the apartment, Vivian had Roy sit down while she set up the crib in the spare room of Jason's apartment. They had the crib there all this time but just hadn't have the time to fix it. Then placed all of the essentials to one table for easy use. In the middle of her and Jason fixing the room, Lian started crying again. Vivian went to Roy and she taught him how to make the formula while still holding Lian.

He didn't need to panic, she told him. Lian is just telling him she's hungry, so it's okay if he took his time. But not too long though. Feeding Lian had its troubles, Vivian wasn't spared from the baby barf, she didn't mind, and she reassured Roy about it too when he apologized for ruining her blouse.

She taught him how to change a diaper easily, how to give Lian a bath, and then the ointments Lian needed to prevent rashes.

Once Lian was set for the night, wearing her cute little onesie, comfortable in a new diaper, and burped, Vivian stepped out of the room and talked to Roy.

"She's okay now. With the new formula, she'll stop getting stomach aches. But expect her to wake up later tonight, her bottles are lined up all you need is to follow these instructions for the measurements," Vivian handed the index cards she wrote on. "I just made other notes too for other things, but if you don't need them, you can just throw those out."

"No, I'll need these. Thanks. Thank you, Mrs. P," Roy accepted the notes. "I can't thank you enough. And I have no idea how to make it up to you."

"Roy, you don't have."

"But I do... you've been there every step. When Arrow left me because I started using, you were there to help me get back on track. You helped me get to rehab; you had Jay keep tabs on me to make sure I was okay.

"I wanted so badly to call for you for help but... but I knew you just lost Helena, and I wasn't sure if you..."

Vivian frowned. "Losing my daughter was the most painful thing I've ever felt. There was a time when I would see mothers holding their babies, I would cry. When I saw the car seat and the baby formula in Jason's car, I didn't think twice about coming here. I even gave him an earful for making you both wait for so long."

"I didn't want to bother you at work."

"Then when I saw you holding your daughter, I didn't think. I just did it. There are two kids here who need my help. The next time you need my help in anything, Roy. Call me. Tell me and I'll be there."

"There was a moment when I thought I couldn't do it... and maybe I can't and the best thing for her is to be with a family who can help her."

Vivian sighed. "Not all fathers are dads, Roy. Just because they contributed to making a kid doesn't automatically give them the title of Dad. What makes a dad is someone who tries. It's someone who knows they're making mistakes, but they still try. They still stay."

Roy sniffled. "And if I mess up?"

"Then we get our shit together." Vivian brought him to an embrace. "You're doing okay."

"Thank you, Mrs. P," Roy hugged her tight.

"How long will you be in Gotham?" She asked as she pulled back.

Roy shrugged. "Maybe until I know I can do this alone? If that's okay."

She smiled. "You have my number if you need anything."

Before leaving, Vivian made Jason and Roy dinner. It was actually to make Roy feel a bit better but didn't want him to think he was such a wreck he couldn't make dinner, so she mentioned she was making it for him and Jason. She knew how it felt to be in that lowest, she didn't want to be reminded of how much of a burden she was despite Bruce and everyone telling her otherwise, so Alfred would always make it look like the means he made for her was for the entire family. Her favorite food for the entire family.

Jason walked her out of the apartment building, and as they stepped out she was met by the sight of Bruce leaning on his car that was parked at the side of the road.

"Thanks for calling him," Vivian said to Jason.

"You had your hands full earlier. And I can't leave Roy just yet, and I knew you'd say that too so I called for a taxi." Jason shrugged.

"You are a good friend, Jason. If there is anything you need---an SOS, something that's a little unclear on the notes---call me."

"Yeah, I will, Ma... how are you after holding Lian?"

It's only been two months since Helena and Vivian couldn't say she's fully healed just yet. And like earlier, she smiled and said: "I'm fine."

"You're not fooling me, Ma."

"You made the right call on calling Bruce. I'll be fine, Jay." Sge got on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Get some rest. And help Roy with late night feeding. Take shifts so he could get some rest."

"Got it... she's all yours Bruce."

Bruce got out of his car, held out his hand to Vivian to take it and let him help her in the passenger seat of the car. He bid goodnight to Jason and then went to the driver's seat.

"Ready?" He asked her.

"Let's go home."

"Okay."

The drive home was quiet. Vivian didn't bother to turn on the radio to fill the silence, they just let it fill the space. When they arrived at Wayne Manor, Vivian acted her usual self--went to Tim's room to check up on him, then to their room, put away her things, took a bath and changed. Bruce did the same but when he finished he found the master bedroom empty.

He didn't need to call out to know where she was, he already knew. He found Vivian sitting on the cushioned chair at the corner of the nursery they set up for Helena but the room was now empty except for the bed, the chest of unopened gifts from friends, and the sofa chair there. Vivian was holding the gift she got from Roy when he and Jason got her those adorable baby clothes. She was holding the mittens and socks.

"Viv," he began.

"I was thinking... maybe we give some of these to Roy and Lian? They'd need it more... you know?"

Bruce sat on the armrest of her seat and hugged her tight. "If it's what you want... Jason told me how you held her, Lian. You were strong and you held it all in. It's okay to cry now, Viv."

Hearing that she broke down, crying in her husband's arms.

"Am I a bad person to imagine she was our Helena for a moment?" Vivian whispered, as if she was afraid anyone but them and the walls would hear her sin.

"You're not. When Jason told me, all I wanted was to go be with you but seeing you at Sacred Heart helping Roy. Holding the girl. I know you needed that to heal."

"We both do... we lost a daughter, Bruce. Not just me. It's not just me." Vivian sobbed.

Bruce kissed the top of her head and finally let the tears fall too. "I know. We lost her, I mourn her everyday. But tonight my wife needs me to be strong for the both of us."

"You don't have to be."

"I know. We'll be okay, Viv."

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