#(but I don't know where else to get the tiny little blueberries)

[freepassbound]

Back to 'Bake-sics'

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD, the world was a small, uncomplicated place. Mom and Dad don't have much money to travel abroad and their jobs only allow for little leisure, so the furthest vacation spot is a beach four hours' drive from your home city. School fills your days with lessons, friends, and the promise of weekend sleepovers. Every day, you stroll down the same street and greet your neighbors by name. Happiness was as close as your mother's freshly baked blueberry pie.

But now? When your world becomes wider and the reach of your hand becomes longer, it seems that happiness finds further hiding places. It grieves you that childhood was too brief; that bubble of safety from the world's woes and tribulations burst before you could even appreciate it.

The five-year-old you looked in the mirror, twisting your tiny feet to see the new shoes from all angles. Despite your repeated protests that you preferred the blue one, your mother purchased the bright pink one—she said it matched her favorite dress, and mother knows best, so you don't have to bother thinking about what you wanted. You shrugged to yourself; at least it's better than your old one.

Walking down the hall, you found your father. He's not in his usual play clothes – he's dressed for work, eyes crinkling as he smiles. "My little princess, you look so pretty!"

You beamed at his praise, chubby cheeks glowing. Nothing makes your heart sing like Dad's smile. You spin around like a princess in a fairy tale, showing off your shoes by stomping gently on the wooden surface.

“Mom bought it for me. It's not blue, but I like it!”

Dad chuckled. “Well, at least she spent my money on my favorite girl.”

Your mother emerged from the kitchen, your lunch bag in hand. “I saw them on sale at the store and just knew they'd be perfect for school,” she says proudly. Your father turned to you, opening his mouth to say something but, Mother interrupted. “We'd better get going or she'll be late for class.”

Dad sighs, mumbling a “yes, I know,” and kneels to sweep you into a tight hug. Your secret handshake is special – finger guns with “pew pew” noises, then knuckles bumping before more hugs and kisses. Your mother rolled her fondly eyes. “You two are always conspiring, sharing your little secrets. Now say goodbye, Daddy has to get to work."

You dislike it when Dad has to leave for work—in fact, you prefer him to Mom. But, Mom said he had to go or else there would be no food on the table for dinner; Besides, Daddy will definitely come back home and you can play with him again. You waved, forcing a smile to look as happy as possible.

"Bye, Daddy!"

"See you soon, princess." With a wave of his hand, your father answered and vanished behind the wooden door.

As Daddy's car pulls away from the curb, you hear Mom walking over to where the car keys are kept. You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, but that strange tightness in your chest persists—one that usually occurs when it's just Mom and you. She opened the door and told you to go to the car. You followed her in silence, eyes fixed on the pattern on your new pink shoes.

Sliding into the backseat, you peer out the window. The car engine started, and the radio played the same playlist. You watch the buildings and trees move backward. Mom glances at you in the rearview mirror and corrects you about your slumped posture, saying it's an ugly look for a young lady. You sat up straight in your chair and muttered an apology. Satisfied, your mother returned her attention to the road.

Secretly, you wish it could be your dad driving you to school instead. He's more fun, telling silly stories to make you laugh, and doesn't mind your messy crayons or clothes that don't match perfectly. Your mother always finds fault with anything that is unclean or out of place.

Looking up at the clear sky, you hope the sun will soon be above, indicating that lunchtime is approaching. Lunchtime means it's a few hours until sundown, and dinner will soon be served.  You want to quickly see Dad and hear whatever stories he has during the day—that is, if he comes home. Lately, work has been keeping him from home more and more. However, if he's too busy, then tomorrow will do—Sunday sounds fun. He never missed a Sunday with you.

The weekend comes quickly, and you can barely contain your excitement when Dad takes you to the park Sunday morning. You walk hand in hand down the busy sidewalk, you chat a mile a minute about school. Laughter and barking greeted you both.

A fluffy golden retriever catches your eye, and you tug Daddy's hand, pointing excitedly. “Can we get a puppy, Daddy? Please? I'd take such good care of it, I promise!”

Your father chuckled, then shook his head. “You know how your mother feels about furry friends making a mess in the house.”

Disappointed, you scruff your shoes in the dirt. Dad never refuses what you want, no matter how ridiculous it is, unless it contradicts Mom. Unfortunately, the majority of what you desire is always something your mother despises. You continue walking.

Then he points – an ice cream cart! “Can I have one?” You ask, only to remember. "Mom said no sweets before dinner."

Dad crouches to meet your downcast eyes. “But Mom's not here. And you and me, we're partners in crime, right? I won't tell if you won't. What do you say we keep our sweet treat just between us?”

Gasping for joy, bubbles of laughter escaped your lips. "Okay!" Dad got you cones, of course, chocolate ones, and you swung your clasped hands and gawked at all the colorful, melted options. There's no better way to spend a Sunday than taking a stroll with Dad in the sunshine.

Monday night, however, was spent with you lying in bed with a fever ravaging your little body. Through the haze, you hear raised voices carrying down the hall—Mom scolding Dad for letting you have that ice cream.

“I can't believe you disobeyed me, Peter! One ice cream and now she's sick as a dog.” Her shrill voice pierces your pounding head.

“C'mon Anna, the girl's allowed a treat now and then.” Dad's calmer rumble does little to quell your mother's fury.

“If you'd listened to me from the start, this never would've happened. But you always think you know best.” Their arguing grows more heated, and you curl into a tight ball, wishing you could disappear.

Your mother's booming footsteps grew farther away as their conversations ceased. You open your eyes. When your door creaks and you turn around, the light from the corridor peeks through a tiny opening, and your father's form fills the frame. He sits next to you with a strained, contrite expression on his face.

“Hey, honey,” he started. “I'm sorry our secret got out. Mom's just worried about you being sick.”

You try to smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “S’okay, Daddy.” You said, and he stroked your damp hair tenderly; concern etched deep.

“Jesus, you're burning up. How about a story to take your mind off feeling bad?”

As if on cue, you remember – “The Nutcracker, please!”

With a kind grin, your father got up to get the cherished book. He takes a seat next to you, acts puzzled as he flips through a book and clears his throat.

"Now let's see, how did this story go again?" You chuckled at his attempt to divert your attention from your fever.

Soon later, he starts reading aloud with a low, comfortable voice. Sometimes, he stumbles over long words or loses his place, but each time he simply smiles sheepishly before continuing on. His favorite part is the dialogue, as he frequently adopts a different voice to portray different characters. You find yourself entranced, following each magical adventure.

For a little while, you can forget about the uncomfortable heat covering your body and Mom's angry shouts. In these quiet moments with your father, nothing else matters but his gentle company. In this once kinder world, he is still your father and you are still his favorite daughter—his one and only. Even if getting an ice cream is what makes you sick, you would do it all over again just to share this time with him.

By the story's end, your eyelids grow heavy enough, but not quite heavy. Dad chuckled, closing the book. “Still awake, little love? You must be feeling better.”

Your lips curve into a smile, glazed eyes glistening as flushed cheeks rise. “Mom signed me up for ballet classes,” you mumble sleepily.

A gasp escaped his lips, his forehead shot upwards emphasizing the already existing wrinkles. He looked at you with irises the same color as yours. You chuckle from his reaction, but your smile fades when his features swim and blur before you like figures in a dream. His gaze was always so kind, looks darker than you recall. Stubble shadows his jaw. When he smiles now, it doesn't reach as far.

He said your name—but it sounded foreign, it felt wrong. Why can't you see him clearly anymore?

“My little princess, you’re going to be the greatest ballet dancer the world has ever seen.” You wanted to answer, to hold this moment with him forever; but heavy eyelids won the battle and ultimately dragged you down. As the darkness enveloped you, Dad's hazy face was the last thing on your mind.

Thin curtains block the dreary morning light as you begin your daily ritual of waking up. The city has just woken up below; fog still hangs on the streets of London as you pad barefoot to the kitchen, the hardwood cold under your feet.

Filling the kettle, you set it to boil and retrieve your favorite chipped mug from the shelf. Your hand reaches for a packet of instant grounds—two scoops of it go inside, followed by a splash of cream. After lifting the whistling kettle, you poured in the boiling water slowly before taking a tea spoon to stir. The sound of the drizzle striking the glass was amplified by the apartment's quiet, and a small clink! sound is added each time your spoon meets your porcelain mug.

Lifting the mug, you breathe deep its comforting aroma before taking a careful sip, sighing as warmth spreads through your body. Coffee in hand, you turn to the task of packing your bag, put the essentials: water bottle, warm up shorts, warm up sweater, leg warmers, two pointe shoes, skirts, and a pouch containing deodorant, hair spray, comb, pins , and band aids.

Feeling quite satisfied, you finish your coffee and rinse the mug before leaving it to dry. You go shower and do your skincare routine. Pulling out your clothes drawer, you retrieve the leotard and tights, sliding the familiar fabrics over still-damp limbs.

Before the full-length mirror, you start to stretch. First position – feet turned out, heels together, arms graceful at your sides. Middle split – breathe in, reach for your toes, feel the burn in your thighs. Forward fold, palms flat on the floor, spine lengthening. After feeling warmed up for the day, you slowly got up and grabbed your bag towards the door.

The city was already starting to get busy, with the hustle and bustle of commuters making their way to work. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee wafting through the air. You quickened your footsteps on the cobblestone streets.

When the train door opens, you rush out, clutching your bag tight. Racing up the stairs, you burst through the exit and meet the cold air from the rain. You rubbed your hands against your arms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself. Overhead, heavy clouds hung low. You set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace.

But, as your building comes into view, you slow down—memories from last night fill your head. It was just here—under the awnings of that little café—that you first took shelter from the rain with him.

Simon. His name whispers through your mind like fog swirling around lampposts. If only the place was still open, maybe you would come in for a sweet warm drink instead of that crowded pub. Must've been nice, you think—it must've been nice to chat between sweets, enveloped in comfort that stretches time to be longer. Maybe he won't be so guarded and you'll get more than a name and a job—a promise to meet tomorrow at breakfast, for example.

Realizing you had completely stopped walking, you shook your head as embarrassment settled on your cheeks. Why do you dwell on such fantasies? Despite his kindness, Simon is just a stranger with just a name, one of many faces in this city that you will never meet again.

With a sigh, you continued your walk and disappeared behind the large doors of the opera.

The heavy doors creaked open as you pushed inside, warmth enveloping your cold body. Long hallway echoed with the conversation of the dancers who had arrived, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor while exchanging a joke or two with each other. You turn into the dressing room. Hanging up your coat, you saw a familiar sight—girls chatting and gossiping as they got ready.

You sat down at one of the dressers, placing your duffel bag at your feet. The sound of a zipper being opened sounded in the air; you bent down and reached for your pouch. Then, you pull out your trusty lip balm before applying it to your lips and gently massaging in the colorless formula.

Just then, a girl came and stopped at the door frame, panting. “It's up! The casting announcement is on the board!”

Squeals of excitement and joy were heard as they rushed to see who got what role. You hurriedly closed your balm, returned it to the pouch before getting up from the chair following the others. They had gathered at the end of the hall, jostling to see a piece of paper stuck to the board.

Air fills your lungs slowly when you inhale. It felt like your hammering heart was going to drop to your stomach as your legs started to swing. The pessimistic side of you says to turn around—why bother? It said tauntingly, you know which role you ended up having. But the hopeful side—the little girl still full of dreams stored somewhere in your ribs—insisted on peering and feeling.

As you stepped into the crowd of dancers, they turned around and some started smiling at you. One of them, Jasmine, approached you after calling your name.

“You did it! You got the role!”

As she hugged you, you scanned down the long list. Your eyes freeze on the main role. The Swan Queen. Beside it is printed in big black letters, your name. The Swan Queen.

You detach yourself from Jasmine's embrace, muttering excuses as you flee down the hall to the toilet. Step by step opening each stall to make sure the space is totally empty, you then lock yourself in one of them and sink into the closed toilet lid. Your mind is racing with a plethora of feelings as your eyes are fixed on the sections of tile plaque.

Joy, pride, disbelief... But underneath it all lies a hollow ache you can't place. Why? Isn't this what you've always wanted, to to become more than just another dancer in the group, to stop at precisely the thirteenth, and somehow take on the role of the Swan Queen—the one who shines the most on stage? Perhaps it's the self-conscious part of you, believing that the director must have made a mistake and mistook you for someone else.

Or perhaps this emptiness was once occupied by the never-ending quest for approval. In truth, that person no longer exists; you have no one left to tell this good news to. The chairs in the crowd were empty.

The cost of keeping everyone at a distance, indeed.

You clutch on your leotard, the fabric wrinkling in your tight grip. Gazing up at the ceiling and inhaling again, you make the decision to push up on unsteady legs and get out of the stall.

The hallway seems louder than before. Every footstep and whisper amplified in your mind, eyes tracking you as you pass—all judging, wondering. A flush creeps up your neck. You speed up your steps, hoping to quickly get out from under their scrutinizing gaze. However, no matter how hard you try, your ears cannot be deafened by the snatches of hushed conversation that follow.

“Can't believe they chose her; she's so soulless on stage.” Your throat constricts, and your hands are clenched into pale fists.

Claudine's piercing stare cuts through the crowd as your eyes meet. She rakes her gaze over you slowly, as if trying to decipher what the director found so special. You lowered your eyes, hurriedly passing to the safety of the empty dressing room. Grabbing your bag with shaky hands, you flee once more to the practice studio, desperate to lose their judgment.

The studio door's knob turned, and as you pushed slightly to get a glimpse inside, the hinges creaked. With the coach and pianist, the director was engaged in a serious discussion. He gives you a quick glance and gestures for you to enter.

“(Y/N), it's so wonderful to have you here. I know this role is in excellent hands with you.” His kind words did little to calm your fraying nerves, but you took the crumbs of his appreciation.

More dancers arrive behind you, their excited chatter filling the hallway. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you catch sight of familiar faces: Jasmine, Sophia, Eloise, long-faced Marie—surely she's not used to not being the main star, and you feel like you've taken her place even though you're not good enough. You swallow hard and turn back, placing your duffel bag in the studio's corner.

The director clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. “Bravo to each of you for earning these coveted roles through your talent and dedication. Now, let us begin our work to bring Tchaikovsky's magic to life for our audiences. Places everyone, we'll start from the beginning!”

Your shoulders rise as you inhale a deep breath. Swan Lake. First time becoming the Swan Queen.

Does the director know that his gaze carries a heavy weight? The more sighs he lets out, the more you suffocate, as if the air has been tainted with butane and you've reached the vertigo stage. His eyes followed your every move, but it was his lips that showed dissatisfaction. Something isn't up to his expectations, and it's not the techniques and poses your ballet teacher has been drilling you in since childhood. You are deficient in something that you are unaware of.

The director calls to a halt, praising and giving notes to the other dancers before turning to you. You brace yourself with a deep breath.

“Your technique is truly flawless as always. But I wonder, could you try injecting just a bit more... feeling?” he began. “You portray her innocence and loneliness beautifully. But what is missing is the glimmer of hope she finds in Prince Siegfried's promise to free her.”

Hope? The girl had lived most of her life as a swan; what silly hope did she still have and seek in a man? As if their hearts have the ability to keep a promise. Swan Lake wouldn't be Swan Lake without the prince declaring his love for another woman and Odette jumping off the cliff from the realization that her dreams had ended in vain. Is it not more fitting that she feels only emptiness—the result of years of loneliness leeching any warmth or longing from her soul?

You tell yourself that, if not merely to cover up your poor performance. The director is many years older than you and has directed and seen many ballets throughout his life. If anyone knows how to bring a character to life, it's him.

It begs the question, though, of whether a cursed being like her seems capable of wishing for miracles or fairy tale things like love. Can a withered flower, beaten down by countless rains, still hold the memory of the sun in its crumpled petals?

“I'll do better.” You said.

The director gives a pitying smile; you felt small beneath him. “Good.” Then raising his voice, “Well done everyone today. Let's call it a day and start again tomorrow fresh!"

Snatching up your bag, you rush towards the exit before anyone can speak to you. With your head down, you push through the doors and into the night. Breathing in trembling, you let your legs carry you down the well-known pavement. The sights and sounds of bustling London blur around you.

You shouldn't have believed that girl. You shouldn't have given that dreamy girl the chance to lead a version of herself that has grown far beyond her—because you know her judgment means nothing, just a limited view of the world through rose-tinted glasses. She is that way because a liar once said that she would make a great ballet dancer, and she stuck to it like a devoted disciple to the words of her God.

It was stupid, perhaps a misplaced self-confidence. With your every step, the negative voices in your mind grow louder, jeering relentlessly at your foolishness. This was a mistake from the start. As if you could ever do Odette justice. Best tell him you're stepping down; let Claudine or Marie have the role they deserve. Your heart is heavy, weighing you down to the floor. 

You almost pass by without noticing, but there, through the haze, glows the warm orange light of that pub. The one Simon and you ducked into that stormy night, where you shared pleasantries over pints of bitter. As you watch the door open and close for the newcomers, you halt.

You're not sure which Satan incited. But when you push open the pub door, warmth immediately envelopes you, scents of ale and smoke mingling with the bustle of chatter. A lively folk tune played on the sound system as patrons laughed together in the booths and around the bar. Steeling yourself, you approached awkwardly.

The bartender looked up, his eyes widening briefly before his lips curved into a flirtatious smile. "Well hello gorgeous, what can I get for ya?"

Warmth floods your cheeks and you shift from foot to foot. “Um, do you have anything non-alcoholic?” You said, awkward voice breaking easily. Why did you come in here again?

He raised an eyebrow but maintained a friendly smile. “Sure do, love. Give me a mo.” As he turns around to prepare your drink, you glance around helplessly.

Faces blurred in the dim light—all engaged in lively conversation. You sit alone at the bar like you're waiting for a friend while watching everyone else meet theirs. A feeling of loneliness overtakes you – what were you thinking coming here?

Bartender returns, sliding your drink across with a wink. “On the house. Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?”

Giving a mumbled thanks, you take a sip acting busy. As you sit alone nursing your drink, you believe you understand why. Deep down, beneath all the self-doubt and shame, is a glimmer of truth you loath to admit – you desperately seek companionship, if only for a moment.

And the only person close enough for you to consider a friend is a masked stranger you will never see again. That's pathetic; you're pathetic. Clinging to the irrational part to watch Simon walk through that door. He claims he's a regular here—his “I'm here often enough” seems to make you hold out for the chance of running into him again.

Twenty minutes pass in a haze, and Simon still hasn't appeared. Maybe he's not a regular after all. You finally glance at your phone—it's time for your usual subway.

Signaling the bartender, you place some cash on the bar as a tip. “Thanks again,” you murmur, then gather your coat and slip out into the chill night.

“Sorry,” you mumble when you bump into a figure about to enter.

“No worries, love,” a British-accented voice replies smoothly, and you glance up, thinking it's someone. A stranger—tall, broad shoulders, but not Simon. Perfectly coiffed hair and skin as smooth as porcelain. He shot a charming smile at you. “Off somewhere?”

Instantly on alert, your eyes start looking for a way to get away from him. “Just heading home, thanks.”

Making a sidestep, his arms extended to block your path. Your mind's alarm goes off. His gaze burned as it swept over you, lingering in places it had no right to be before he licked his lips. You felt a cold sweat run down your back.

“Don't be like that, darling. I just want to chat. Buy you a drink, maybe?” His smile grows, and the sick glint in his eyes shows how much it amuses him to see you trembling.

“Sorry, I—”

“I believe the lady said she’s not interested, mate.”

A gruff, familiar voice cuts through the haze. You whip your head around to see Simon standing there. His face is half obscured by his black mask, but you'll recognize that steel gaze everywhere. For some reason, your heart gradually calms down in your ribs.

“And who the fuck are you?” the other asked angrily, puffing up his chest. A daring move, you think. His too-tight t-shirt reveals his consistent gym muscles, but if Simon is his opponent, you can be sure he's no match.

“Just not a fan of creeps harassing women. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off before I make you.” Simon threatened.

The color drains from the guy's face when he sees Simon's seriousness. He walked away, swallowing his wounded pride with a huff. The pressure recedes from your rigid frame as you watch the figure leave before turning to Simon.

"You hurt at all?" he asked, doing a scan of you to check for himself.

You shake your head, then manage a shaky “No, I'm fine. Thank you.”

Simon looked at you, then looked behind you towards the pub. When he turns back to you, his eyebrows raise slightly questioningly.

“You were in there your own?”

The warmth from his question traveled across your cheeks, striking a contrast with the night breeze. You didn't dare to meet his eyes, choosing to settle on your shoes instead. Despite having come here just to meet him, feeling under his judgment is like getting a shot of adrenaline into your legs—so much so that you want to run to get away from him.

“I, um…” Words fail you beneath your embarrassment.

How pathetic you must look—a lone girl nursing a drink with no companions, seeking solace in other people's conversations. You can't, however, just reveal your total lack of friends. Your mind searched frantically for a convincing reason.

“Just… needed to clear my head after a long day of practice. Thought the atmosphere might help.”

Even to your own ears, the lie falls flat. You didn't know if Simon noticed. Though you're pitiful, he doesn't furrow his brow or look at you that way. He asks no questions at all, not even about poor attempts at lying, and he doesn't press people on matters they would rather leave unsaid. Simon doesn't pry; you think that's his good quality.

Simon looked up at the dark sky instead. “Getting late, this is. I'll walk you to the tube.” He nodded, gesturing down the empty sidewalk.

Thick clouds rolled low. The two of you make your way towards the subway station, passing one by one the buildings constructed from buff-colored brick. Simon is striding beside you, his long legs eating up the pavement with ease. Secretly, you steal glances at his broad figure against the lamplight. Your eyes follow the line of his shoulders under his leather jacket—the way it molds into muscular arms.

This is different from your first meeting. There's no need now for nervous small talk to fill the quiet; you're not much of a talker, and Simon also finds more peace in silence.

Simon's presence feels more companionable than awkward. Warmth bloomed in your ribs as your lips curled into a small smile before it disappeared again. You both walk in wordless sync before you become bored and break it.

“I didn't really expect to see you again.”

Simon glances down at you, his brows quirking questioningly. Did you sound ungrateful? You rush to explain. “I mean, it was all like a chance thing, running into each other like that. Figured it was just... a one-time thing, you know?”

He thought about your words for a moment. “Funny how things work out sometimes.”

Up ahead, the glow of the station sign begins to appear. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly slowed down your pace, but you made sure it was unnoticeable. Your journey's end draws near, but you hope this togetherness can last longer.

Summoning your courage, you try, “Were you meeting someone at the pub? Before…” Your words trail off, but he seems to understand.

“Nah, wasn't meeting anyone,” he said casually. “Just fancied a drink, is all.”

You nodded, acting satisfied, but actually feeling a little disappointed. It seemed that he was in fact a frequent visitor, coming and going on any given evening; it was just for a drink, like before he met you. Meanwhile, you cling to the prospect of another chance to meet like a lifeline. As the station came into full view, your eyes fell, brewing more embarrassment and desperation in your stomach. Maybe he has someone waiting for him. What were you thinking, letting yourself hope?

Yet, though small, the rebellious part of you refuses to let this end.

"What do you usually drink?" You ask again, grasping for any excuse to extend your time, no matter how little.

“Bourbon,” he replied gruffly. “Kentucky, usually. Good drop.”

Twenty-three years old, but this discussion is still foreign territory for you. Your fingers can count the few times you've tasted alcohol—each occasion marred by your mother's voice in your head, warning of its evil. It's rather comical, considering how it once became her loyal companion for several years—that damned thing became the only thing she looked for after coming home from work and gulping it down flat on the living room sofa to dull her broken heart. You cannot yet judge her as a hypocrite or someone who has learned from her mistakes. As if a single glass would transform you into some fallen woman. It was always all or nothing with her; there was no concept of moderation.

Such inhibitions are not for Simon, though. A man of the world who has seen and done things that you could scarcely fathom. For him, a pint after work is as regular as taking a breath.

All too soon, you reach the stairs leading down to the station entrance. Your feet stopped when he did. Turning your body to face him, you gathered your courage and looked up. His eyes meet yours, and you see him about to open his mouth behind his surgical mask. No, you can't bear to hear that final goodbye.

“Do you..” You started. “Like anything else to drink, besides bourbon? I probably have… something at my place.”

There was a change in his gaze before he returned to his usual guarded gaze. Your cheeks screamed on fire at the implication that you didn't quite mean to make. Such an invitation should be the last thing a girl like you offers to a stranger she's only met twice, particularly at this hour. To your defense, though, he's now an acquaintance, and desperation influences people to do the unthinkable. The nights are getting colder and your lonely apartment won't do.

It seems that your question surprised him too. Simon scanned your face carefully before releasing the tension.

“Tea.”

When Simon replies with a single gruff word, you can't help but smile, ducking your head to hide it behind loose tendrils of hair. Lifting your eyes once more, you find him staring at you. Two people engaging in a silent game of deciphering, each trying to unravel the secrets of the other piece by piece.

“Tea,” you repeat softly, as if savoring the taste of the word.

Fingers twisting together, you steel your nerves before turning toward the stairs to lead the way down. You hear his footsteps fall solidly behind you. Not daring to look back out of fear that this dream will shatter, you mentally urge your feet faster.

At the platform's edge, mist curls between the rails like grasping fingers. Simon was standing right next to you. Slowly, the lights of an approaching train emerge, growing brighter by the second. With a weary hiss, the sliding doors open in front of you in welcome. You turned to Simon, then stepped aboard, and he followed, as you already knew.

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[mowu-moment]

ranking food tokens by how much personally i want to eat them

- Throne of Eldraine -

i have reason to distrust this meat pie thing, not only because of its wails of anguish but it also seems to have burst a bit in the oven. still not honestly opposed, at least the dishes are clean. 5/10.

how does one unpeel a curly banana? why are there sliced-open fruits on what appears to be a stone in the woods? where is the light coming from? i'm going to be taken by the fae and it's not even gonna taste too good while i'm at it, these things look dirty. but idk i don't mind someone else taking the wheel of my life rn. 2/10.

again, concerns about the floor food, but at least it looks more like some deliverygirl got eaten by a wolf and dropped her basket than a trap. someone already took a bite, though, maybe i should leave it be. 4/10

i have been invited to the Goblin King's Feast and while i don't fully agree with his choices i will certainly partake. boar looks wonderful apart from the hair. 7/10

- Commander 2020 / Strixhaven Commander -

i'm pretty sure cattails are poisonous to humans (not to mention the actual poisons in there) so i unfortunately can't oblige gyome's swamp soup. that crusty bread looks pretty nice though. i'll pick this thing apart like high school cafeteria lunch. 3/10.

- Modern Horizons 2 -

i at least know who cooked this one, and i trust asmor a decent bit, but this is still food for demons, so maybe it's not too good for me. goddamn do i wanna know what it tastes like though. 4/10.

- Unfinity -

i'm considering these two together. as a filthy american, i am allured by these fat-filled foods, but as a lad with a tiny stomach, i doubt i could eat enough to feel good about not wasting it. astrotorium's about excess, goddamn. the only funfair burger i've had was the best thing i had eaten in months, but it also made me ill the rest of the day. i really do want some infinity fries though, those look like the golden mean between a steak fry and a curly fry. 6/10.

- March of the Machine Commander -

meanwhile this looks like a texture nightmare. like i respect it, i imagine it's filling and fulfilling, but i don't think i ever could eat more than a bite or two. bread looks a little worse than gyome's but only a little. 5/10.

- Lord of the Rings: Tales of Middle-Earth -

my white ass loves a charcuterie board. and i'm not going to be intimidated out of it by not eating enough, since it's all in snack-sized bits already. definitely gonna overindulge this sucker. i'm nervous about some of those spreads though. 9/10.

this looks like i'm in a dream, is it actively cooking? or still hot? i can't identify what's in that pan anyway. i'm leaving it alone out of respect. wouldn't mind a drink though. 2/10.

this is not food. for humans. 0/10.

- Wilds of Eldraine -

this is a king's feast i am properly intimidated by. i'm more into it than the Goblin King's, particularly that triple-layer blueberry pie or whatever that is, but i'm going to have to be as polite as possible lest i get a face full of flaming beer. 8/10

i'll probably be eaten before this can eat me, and it barely looks like food, but at least i go down with sugar in the mouth. 1/10.

ogh. that egg looks divine. the bread looks amazing, there's a full glass, i've got like beans or mermaid tears everywhere. we've even got seasonings back there. the best damn breakfast i'll ever have. 10/10.

i would still probably eat this over nothing. there's onion, at least. i will either be hexed or violently ill, but like i could at least get it down. and maybe the witchmother is testing my strength and she'll reward me after slurping an eyeball. a convenient lie to tell myself. 2/10.

- Doctor Who Commander -

y'know, four, i think i would like a copyrighted candy. they look sad and british, which is on point. but like it's not actively killing me like half of these. i think anyway. i don't know doctor who. 6/10.

what is this? i have no idea. custard? raw batter? giant dunkaroo? is he dipping fishsticks? it doesn't look like it's done cooking, like do we need to put it in a fryer again? i'd say it's inedible but it's not poison stew so i have to be nice. 4/10.

get AWAY from me. this is a PERSONAL vendetta. i would rather try to eat spiderwebs. plus he's already eaten half of it. -10/10.

- Fallout Commander -

i can't be too mean since this is literally apocalypse food. i think i prefer this over poison stew? like i recognize it at least, even if it's foul and moldy. man has to eat something. 3/10

i'm not convinced there's actual soda in here. is this just a perspective shot or is this a giant prop soda? i don't like cola anyway. again, worth it in an apocalypse i suppose. 4/10

this soda i trust even less. it glows? does this give me magic powers in the fallout world or does it just kill me slowly? i think it'll kill me slowly anyway. i need fluid to survive in apocalypseland but damn i hate for it to come to this. 2/10.

[slashers-sister]

What if you just kidnapped adopted an animal?

How would your brothers react?

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE AS YOUR FAMILY LETS GOOOOOO

(I FORGOT, MARTHA IS THE CHICKEN 👆)

(Don't worry, I'll write more later, I'm just lazy and it takes a while for things to flow, you can request stuff if you want👍)

Note:

No animal death! Roadkill mentioned, but not actual descriptions of animals dying of your wondering!

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Drayton

(Raccoon/trash panda)

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Goodness. You are practically begging your older brother day and night. He's getting annoyed. The twins used to do the same thing. Quit givin' him flashbacks of the twins annoying the hell out of him!!

"Sister, Darlin', the only ray of sunshine on this god forsaken farm. Please. We are not getting a dog."

"I don' want a dog! Brother please he's right-"

"For fucks sake I said no!"

"...right outside."

"What?"

Then you showed your lovely little friend. 'Bark'. He was caught in a trap, and had been cowering in fear. All the loud noises scared the poor raccoon kit. Man you definitely scared the crap out of bark at first!..

N' till you fed it. Then he disregarded everything, you where so sweet!

"Kiddo. Please explain how you.. no, don't. I don't even wanna know. Please understand we CAN'T keep it. So don't name-"

"His name is bark."

~Long pause of silence.~

"...yer gonna whine and cry till I say we can keep it, aren't ya?"

"He likes blueberries."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Well, unannounced to you, that's no longer just your raccoon. He grows fond of it. It'll help him collect eggs out of the chicken coop.. it's definitely quite a nice cooking buddy.

Drayton even made him a little hat for Halloween, Drayton had to sew up everyone's clothes every once in a while. You of course helped make the little tie.

Yes, that's right. A little red tie.. and tiny chef hat.

Drayton made sure that little chef hat fit perfectly.

He had help around the kitchen, surprisingly Bark was quite a helpful boy. He would understand the difference between words. Sadly often getting sugar and salt confused, there both white, give him a break.

He doesn't mind Martha, including even stealing an egg for her to try and hatch. And even went outside to steal some berries for her.

Bark was a bit of a thief, sometimes you'd get little presents.. Nubbins knife.. Maybe one of Chop-Top's CDs.. Drayton's favorite ladle.. definitely has stolen knives and other sharp objects for you to use.

Bark was treated like a little prince, being snuck little food scraps.. either from you or Drayton. And it sure didn't mind eating human, heck. When you got a bit older, he screeched when someone got inside the house.. 'How dare they get inside the house!! Who the fuck are you! FUCKING OUT YOU- oh hi Chop-Top!!' kind of attitude.

Have you thought about putting him in a show about raccoon cooking? Yes.

Was it made up by you?

Yes.

Will you admit that? Probably not.

Of course, you see Bark as not only your best friend, but your pet.. you both get in trouble equally.

Bark was definitely part of the family now, the most protected 'coon in all of Texas.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Chop-Top & Nubbins

(Coyote.. except there's 4.)

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Well. Their plans where definitely.. cut short? No ruined in all honesty. You where outside at 2 am, feeding your new friends. Your new dogs.

..You mistook them as dogs.

Or maybe you refused to think they where anything else.. I mean they where so friendly!

You named them already. Josie, Cutler, Terry, and Michael. You know Josie has a cut in her ear, and Cutler had strawberry blonde fur, and white paws. Terry was the definition of midnight. You could only see his eyes. And Michael was named Michael because of those.. black beady eyes. How cute.

..Who would've guessed they eat human. Scavengers to the fullest.

Meanwhile, Chop-Top and Nubbins where planning to sneak out, probably to go mess some shit up, and make someone's day tomorrow horrible. By accident they caught you taking care of your four.. dogs. Oops?

"W-what the ff-uck are you doing up at t-two am?!" Nubbins said, half-yelling half-whispering.

"Uh.. well.. uhm.." you said quietly. the coyotes began growling. They haven't met the twins or any of your family yet.

Chop-Top immediately tried to get to you, thinking the coyotes where growling at you. Cutler snapped at him.

Chop-Top grabbed the coyote by the scruff of its neck.. you calmed down Josie, Terry, and Michael. And immediately grabbed Cutler out of Chop-Top's hands!

"The hell?! It was growlin' at you! What the fuck are ya doin'?" Chop-Top said.. man if the commotion didn't wake up Drayton, the yelling would.

"Cutler wasn't growling at me! They're not used to you guys.. this is why I feed em' in the mornin'..

"Y-.. you w-what. How l-l-long have ya been d-doin' this?!"

Nubbins was extremely confused, wouldn't they have realized this by now? They're pretty damn smart.. then again they did eat tide pods as a kid so.

"Well, Terry was first, than Cutler, then Michael, than Josie, and I think-"

"Ya fuckin' named em?" Chop-Top said, almost confused. There where 4, how could you remember all of them? "A-and how long have you b-been f-f-feeding them?!" Nubbins said after a second..

'Jeez, gimme time to answer'.. ya thought.

After a moment of calming down the coyotes, you said, "Well.. It's been a few months.. and I did name them. ~You explained how you told them apart.~ and I feed them because they gimme little things!"

You showed the twins your other bracelet. You had two, one you and your family shared, the teeth bracelet Nubbins made everyone, and your other one, it was old, and had little feathers, beads, some string, and a few other things on it.

"Ya realize Drayton is gonna have your ass- ~Nubbins elbowed him really hard, they are trying to curse less, plus having a baby sister made them all sort of realize they need to have a less "fuck around and find out" attitude.. you where their only sister.~ I mean.. your gonna get in trouble when Drayton finds out."

"If he finds out."

Yep, definitely their sister.

"What? What do you mean 'if'?"

"If. If he finds out."

The twins kind of stare at ya. Wow. You take after them a scary amount.. That's a bad thing. At least for Drayton.

Immediately you pull them over to the spot under your window, which is where your coyotes decides to mostly hide off too.. you had put a bunch of brush in the way to hide them. You kept showing them your coyotes.. Josie really liked Chop-Top! And Michael really liked Nubbins! Of course Terry and Cutler were not as happy that the twins are well. Your brothers.

But they still didn't bite them. The twins shared all the times they captured animals.. and tried to keep them as pets. Surprisingly only 2 out of the 9 died of starvation. Drayton had made them take the animals back out.. but the twins were going to keep these coyotes.

If that includes getting hit with a broom, or depending potentially shot, so fucking be it. Granted they won't get shot, Drayton loves them even if he hates them at the same time. But your partly the unspoken favorite like Bubba.

In the morning, well. Shit. Shit indeed. Drayton was pissed. Obviously.

Too bad, ya are keepin' the coyotes.

And he of course asks how you'll feed them..

You take them to the barn you are pulling your older brother along sort of forcefully, to show that they'll follow you anywhere.. and come out with an arm, and fucking YEET that shit across the yard.

(Excuse my 2018 language)

And everycoyote went after it! Josie needed some assurance that yes, you can go get it, but they did! And man! Did they tear that arm up. They where scavengers, they were hungry. And they brought you back the simi-clean bone.

Bubba was honestly giddy about the whole situation, signing "They are just like dogs"

You got to go to town that day! The coyotes stayed in the bed of the truck, and sat peacefully. You got them all collars.. and food bowls.

The twins got to help pick out the tags for them! You picked out a star for Terry, a heart for Michael, and the twins picked a flower shape for Cutler, and a plain circle for Josie. Cutler got a dark blue color, Josie got a pink color, Michael got red, and Terry got green.

It was a nice day. And an even nicer day when you got back to the farm, to show you can practically sick your little puppers on victims.

Nubbins favorite picture is still you, his twin, Drayton, Bubba, and the puppers over a freshly dead body, laughing as the coyotes destroy the victims face.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Bubba

(He signs, I just make it dramatic)

(Snake)

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

You'd think he had a heart attack when you came in with your snake.

No no, it's not that's it is a snake.

The problem is that it's a cottonmouth.

Wrapped around your throat.

After a moment you heard thundering steps you guessed it was either a REALLY pissed off Drayton', or one happy Bubba. Ya hoped it was the second one. He ran up to you signing quickly. Almost too quick to understand.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to pull it off?! Why do you even have it?!"

You couldn't make out the 17 other questions.

"No, no, Snappy isn't choking me, he's actually quite sweet!"

Spoiler, you've taken care of this snake for 3 or 4 weeks. Naming him included. You thought Snappy was a good name because of how he would snap at you when he first saw you.

"You named it? Why? Why is it wrapped around your throat?"

"Because he got tired, and I move a lot faster than him. Plus I wanted to get him some water."

"What"

His confusion is obviously known, and a bit funny. You explained you found Snappy trapped and almost being eaten by a few owls. Those owls became lovely stuffing for pillows, and now you have a cottonmouth that won't leave you alone.

Bubba did not trust this snake whatsoever. What if it hurts you? It's a snake. He literally had to throw them across the yard like a bad Frisbee.

Snappy liked him tho! Throughout the day Bubba tried to stand near and close to you. Snappy kept thinking that was an invitation to keep trying to crawl on his shoulder.

Haha. No.

He was holding himself from throwing it. Technically everyone was. Especially Chop-Top. Man he hated snakes. Especially after time in Vietnam.

Drayton said it wasn't allowed on the floor, near any food, and nowhere near Grandpa. And especially not anywhere it can cause trouble!

Nubbins was indifferent. It's. A snake. Yippers.

Get it far away from him this instant.

Chop-Top was 🤏 close to finding a new creative way to plan a snakes murder.

Grandpa used to have to deal with snakes all the time, he ain't excited. As long as you're happy tho.

Throughout the next few days it kept slithering towards Bubba. Snappy really likes Bubba in general.

You are so lucky he's your brother. He would've killed it by now if not. Snappy and Bubba got along better after a while.. Snappy was a nice company while chopping up bodies.

It's not like you had too many people to scare with your new snake. Snappy really likes human tho. You had a few bites on your arms, not deep, but the poor boy accidentally did bite a bit hard. Ya should've fed him breakfast!!

Bubba wasn't always within your vision.. none of your brothers were. You often fend for yourself, it ain't too hard, if ya need food ya just go inside and take whatever is in the fridge.

So having a friend was nice, And Snappy loves you, otherwise he would've bitten you and your brothers in their sleep.

That would be a lovely lecture in hell as you get bitched out by Drayton for letting Snappy bite everyone >:(

So you may or may not have gotten him a cage- well sort of. Kennel. One of the old ones in the house when you guys used to have a dog.

Snappy acted like a dog, tail wagging included.

(more like half of his lower body?)

Your brothers were a little worried that your lack of human interaction was taking a toll on you, you already talked to yourself a lot.. and sometimes accidentally answered yourself! And now they can't tell if you're talking to Snappy, or yourself.

Drayton and Bubba, heck even the twins surprisingly were able to teach you some things,

Usually you'd rather run around and help around the farm, not learn. Cannibal children are feral, ya can't do much to keep them contained.

They are lucky they scared you enough to wear shoes! You didn't want to step on a scorpion.

With the few things they taught you, you made many hats for your snake. Snappy wore each one with pride.

Your favorite is the little plushy knife Bubba helped you make for Snappy. Snappy indeed loves it too!

Everyone slowly warmed up to Snappy. Including Bubba. Who now carried him around like a little ball of spaghetti.

He secretly fed him scraps off of the butchering table.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Bonus:

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Grandpa

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Nope, get it out of the house.

No butts, get that ------ out of the house now.

Don't make him get your older brothers.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The END WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

TOOK ME TOO LONG TO WRITE THIS

Am I proud of it? Yep

Am I sad I lost all my ideas for Drayton? Yes.

Thank you for reading regardless! <3

[powderblueblood]

oh my god can we see ronnie in the HF&I universe but when she’s got a crush/dating someone? the dynamic of eddie ribbing on her would be TOO good

"i can't talk about it."

"ron--"

"no, i literally cannot talk about it."

"ronnie--"

"eddie!"

"it's okay!" eddie says, almost soothingly, his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum of the hallway. "listen, all god's children. i liked a cheerleader too, once."

ronnie pivots in the middle of the hall, long limbs flailing like weaponry in a way that makes eddie fall back. fall back! chest all tight and cheeks all hot and standing there in a living entanglement of embarrassment.

"then again... my cheerleader," and by my cheerleader, this asshole means the brief, fleeting crush he had on one christine cunningham, "didn't almost definitely have..."

"that you know of, bitch!"

and suh-woop, ronnie takes back off down the hall with eddie hot on her tail in a jangle of chains and denim and shit.

running away from her feelings: it's a very real, physical affliction! especially when she's been marinating on a crush this long! this is no munson's hot girl of the week, this is no jeff's NPC hellfire spouse du jour, this shit is...

this shit is bright brown eyes and a big cresting wave of a bang and taut thighs and a yell that ricochets off waxed gym floors and blueberry bubble gum and petal perfume and such a total cliche and never in a million years and there's always a maybe, i like a fantasy as much as the next tabletop role playing game playing girl and...

goddammit, she'd been doing really well with keeping this shit under wraps!

before she knows exactly where her feet are carrying her, she's busting through the door of the newspaper room, dark save for the light of one green desk lamp.

"do not barrel in here when i'm holding a fucking x-acto knife," come the off-puttingly serene, cerebral tones of lacy doevski from the back left corner.

ronnie, heaving, slams the door behind her. what with being ten feet something tall, she can outrun munson pretty easily, but with lacy here? she's run straight into the jaws of something else.

"why aren't you at the pep rally?" ronnie gasps and hisses, the strangled tone apparently catching lacy's attention.

"excommunication, mostly," she says, blade glinting. god. i mean, ronnie knows they're friends and all, but it's moments like this that she really gets it. the whole doevski draw. "why are you hiding in here?"

then, from beyond the door in a way that makes ronnie's spine go rigid with annoyance, you've got fuckin' eddie bigmouth. knocknocknock!

"hey! ecker! you're not supposed to be innnn there, ecker, lacy said something about an x-acto knife and not wanting to be disturbed--"

ronnie glances to lacy, who just shrugs, a dumb little wistful little dumb little look on her stupid face. ugh. they're disgusting.

"unless this is like, some kind of girl thing, in which case--... no fair. lemme in-uhh."

"let him in," lacy says.

"i don't wannuuh," ronnie whinges.

"ron, if you don't let him in, he's gonna scratch at that door all afternoon and i'm not gonna meet this deadline and then i'm gonna have to use this teeeeny tiny little knife here to gut you both," all said with the casual airs of please and thank you. eddie's got his face smooshed up against the glass.

fuck.

ronnie yanks the door back open and her day one pain-in-the-ass stumbles through.

"hi!" eddie calls to lacy, momentarily distracted as he makes a beeline for her. thank god. "hi."

they do some horribly unsubtle couple-y bullshit where he sorta dances around her desk and she warns him not to come any closer but is smiling the whole time and ronnie flops down into fred benson's chair, wondering if this kind of horseshit would be appealing if it were her and--

"ronnie has a crush on a cheerleader."

the x-acto knife clatters to the desk. "what!"

"and i know which oooone!"

"eddie! fuck!"

"spill!"

"don't!"

"eddie..."

"she was spyin' on her under the bleachers--"

"munson!"

"--i mean, i think she almost had that floor routine down if you catch my drift--"

"--cut to the chase--" "--fuckin' shut! up!"

but before ronnie can up out of that chair and like, i don't know, knock eddie out or sit on him or something, lacy's wound around him like a snake. in-a-gadda-da-vida, this chick, she defies resistance. saying that, if the roles were reversed and it were ronnie and--

lacy's all, who is it and eddie's all giggling into her neck and it's disgusting.

but then he tells her, and her face falls.

"veronica ecker!" ronnie's friend lacy is a great scold-er. she's got a scold like you wouldn't fuckin' believe.

but ronnie wants to shrink into her skeleton. she wants her bones to turn to dust. poof, and nothing's left but a little baseball cap for these ungrateful bastards to remember her by. all 'cause she has what might be construed as conceptually a little romantic inkling for--

"tina burton?!"

ronnie sighs, dragging her hands over her face. "i realize this is morally unsound given your current social predicament, lace, but--"

in unison, the indefatigable duo of cornfed gomez and morticia over there go, "--the crabs, dude!" "you could do so much better, ronnie, you fool!"

[omegasmileyface]

The Forest, the Trees, the Fire I: CATALYST

Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2! Most updates will be Tuesdays and Fridays, this one wasn't late on purpose hehe. Authors: @attackradish, @ectolemonades, me. Artist: @/crunchysart

For the full characters list, word count, content warning, and a directory to all the currently available chapters and related content, see the Table of Contents!

full summary: The world outside of Amity Park has learned about the existence of ghosts, and the time for first impressions has arrived. The delicate public consciousness could be disrupted by the slightest ripple. Danny Fenton is being ripped apart from all sides, and when he finally breaks, the ripples will be very big indeed.

warnings: none for this chapter

words: 2121

AO3 link

first chapter

next chapter

===

October 2, 2006

Tucker was already on his PDA— Florence— by the time Danny sat down for lunch. "It looks like the outside world is finally getting with the program on the whole 'ghosts existing' thing. I'm seeing ecto opinion pieces now that don't even spend half their length shouting about how they're not crazy!"

"Ooh, fun!" Sam unzipped her lunchbox to reveal it was full of crackers and some kind of fruit spread. Tucker dipped a finger in the spread to taste it and his face immediately scrunched up. Sam ignored this. "Maybe we'll see some new forms of Evangelism come out of all this. Mix up the American Christian playing field a little."

(Danny tried a taste too. It tasted sort of like blueberry, but way more bitter. The kind of stuff that grew in nature preserves and wasn’t sold in stores. Not bad.)

"Eh," said Tucker after a hearty swig of soda, "if they do appear, they'll just stick to one tiny area like every other Bold New Jesus Cult that's popped up in the last few decades. I've been thinking we should make some kind of blog about ghosts. We're experts! The rest of the world is gonna want to hear from us." He swooned in his spot at the lunch table. "Maybe we could even sell merch…"

"Hmm. Well, I think it could be good! No, not your newest business model. Calm down, Henry Ford."

Tucker pouted.

"The whole… public getting used to ghosts thing. I mean, it's gonna be a sensitive time for the public consciousness, since what people hear now is going to shape how they feel about ghosts forever, but… the more people hear about the dirty details, the harder it will be to hide stuff like the torture devices and whatnot." Sam hummed. "Though, it hasn't stopped the CIA before…"

"Oh! Conspiracy jar." Tucker held out his hand.

Sam rolled her eyes and handed him two quarters. "It's true, though."

Danny started tapping his foot. "What if it ends up being a bad thing?"

"Oh, so you were on earth for the conversation! Glad to see you, space cadet."

"Yeah, whatever." Danny took a bite just because he knew talking with his mouth full would annoy Sam. "Honestly, I was pretty cool with the thing we had going on where ghost things stayed in ghost land and the only people who bothered to interfere were the Guys in White. And UW Madison, I guess. What if it gets all… publicized? What if there becomes some kind of ghost fighting bureaucracy?"

The ghosts didn't even have a bureaucracy for themselves. Danny would know! Not that he could tell his friends about his involvement in ghost politics.

Tucker shrugged. "We might get money or college credit or something for our ghost fighting, then. Health insurance, even."

"No, Tuck, we're high schoolers. They'd probably just make us stop doing it."

"Oh," said Sam, "I thought you wanted to not have to be responsible for keeping the town safe."

"Duh!" Danny leaned onto the table. "But it's not that simple. It's like when you don't want to do the dishes, but you can't just let somebody else do them because they won't clean them correctly and that's just not worth it."

"Can't relate."

"No idea what you're talking about."

Danny huffed. "They'll probably do it wrong. Professional ghost fighters might try to take ghosts into custody instead of sending them back, or completely ignore why the ghosts came in the first place, or not understand what kinds of fighting are cool and what kinds are just straight-up evil."

Tucker smiled. "Ahh, you're afraid the humans will fight like humans."

"No! …Yes. I guess. And while help would be nice… I just feel like it wouldn't be worth the scrutiny. Generally speaking, the dead don't want to hear the living's opinion on them."

"Well, it's a good thing a lot of ghosts aren't dead, then," Sam said.

Tucker put Florence back in his bag. "You've both got points. From what I've been reading, there are people who are trying to push for ghost laws in other states, using the Dairy King thing as some kind of warning. 'They're already hiding among us! Quick, invent new kinds of bigotry, before it's too late!'"

Ew. Couldn't get one news story without it making things harder for him, huh?

Sam growled. Like, genuinely growled, as much her human throat could. "Well, if that's the case, maybe we couldn't trust America with such important knowledge of life and death just yet."

Danny rolled his eyes.

"Tucker," she continued, "maybe your info blog idea wasn't so bad."

Tucker reached out for a fist bump. Danny obliged.

"Hey, losers!"

And right on queue, it was time for Act II of lunch.

"Good evening, Dash," Tucker and Sam said in unison. Clearly, they'd been rehearsing that. Dash was taken aback for a second. He shook it off.

"You're all gonna be on my team in laser tag, right?"

Great, another permission slip Danny had missed. "Laser tag?"

"Yeah. On Friday. Keep up, Fen-fun-in-the-sun."

Sam tilted her head. "Dash, no offense, buddy, but if you don't like us, don't you want us on the opposite team? Not yours?"

"There is no opposite team. It's ghost laser tag. It's, like, a sponsored field trip by the GIW or something. Either way, students won't be targets. If I want an opportunity to tackle you when nobody's watching, I need you on my team."

Ghost laser tag? What did that even mean? Would they have ecto-weaponry? That couldn't be safe. Danny hoped he could skip out by getting detention or something.

"What a tantalizing offer. I bet teams are randomly assigned anyway."

"You'd better hope they are!" Dash turned his gaze directly onto Danny before backing away dramatically. "I'll see YOU on the field, Fenton. Better catch you carrying on the family legacy."

Tucker took his head out of his bag once it was safe. "…What did he even mean by that?"

Danny just sighed. That said it all, really.

===

"Ghost child, did you really not think to get me a gift for my birthday?"

"Skulker, you don't have a birthday."

Skulker ignored him. "Well, you're lucky that I got something for myself!" He brought out some absolute doohickey of a weapon, gleaming chrome in the turquoise moonlight. Those tubes couldn't serve any logical purpose, could they?

While Danny was questioning his understanding of Euclidean space, Skulker lunged forward and a part of the weapon flew off, angled right for his head.

Danny just barely swirled his body out of the way in time. "Hey!"

Skulker dove. Danny fled. The chase was on.

"What could you possibly want from me this time?"

"What do you think? I want my prize!"

Danny shouted to be heard over a swarm of missiles. "Oh, so we're back to hunting me for sport, then? Maybe stop trying so hard to damage the goods!" He spun around and aimed some sticky ectoplasm in Skulker's general direction.

"Nonsense!" Skulker turned his suit invisible. "If you can't avoid these attacks, your pelt's no good anyway."

Danny concentrated on his ghost sense and dodged a grapple from his left just in time. "Y'know, maybe it's for the best. If I'm hung up in your lair somewhere, I don't have to go to laser tag!"

Skulker halted his onslaught and smiled. "Laser tag?"

Danny huffed. "Yeah, my class is doing this ghost laser tag thing on Friday. My parents heard about it somehow, and they won't let me miss it. They think it'll help me 'prepare myself to join the family business!' or whatever."

Skulker continued to smile.

"Um. Sorry. So, laser tag is like a—"

"I know what laser tag is! As a matter of fact, ghost child, I'm a big fan of laser tag."

Danny sighed. "Of course you are."

"It is a shame that I cannot join you. But since I cannot, you are going to be my laser tag champion this Friday."

"Your what? Oh my God."

"If you will be representing me on the battlefield, you're going to need to have some skill! Beginning shooting practice!"

"No—" Danny caught a small ecto-gun automatically. "Huh. I didn't even know these came off your suit." He was shot in the side.

"Get gunning, boy!"

Just after Danny tore off invisibly to find somewhere to trap Skulker, one of the shots hit an apartment building and an alarm started blaring.

Danny returned to visibility to check it out. Why would an alarm go off from some brick siding getting shot with a low power ectoblast? Was somebody hurt somehow? There weren't any windows or anything there. Could it have ricocheted and hit someone?

Then a van screeched to a stop in the parking lot, and it all made sense.

Just like always, when the GIW filed out of their clown car, they aimed at Danny first. He shielded against most of them, but when one shot went a little wide, it hit the same building and exploded on impact, weakening a couple of the bricks. These blasts were much stronger than the shots he and Skulker had been playing with.

First things first, he darted back over to Skulker to capture him. The ghost didn't complain. Better to get captured for now than to have to put up with a government chase all the way back to the portal.

Danny dared to look back at the hunters below him. "There! Fight's done. That means you don't have to shoot anymore, right?"

They continued shooting. Wow, just like his parents!

Danny tried to go for an escape through the ground, where they couldn't see him or reach him, but they managed to aim for him anyway. When he came back up, the ground was full of new potholes. Even one of the manhole covers was ruined. Did they even think at all before firing?

So he took to the skies instead, hoping that there would at least be less collateral that way. Sure, he got shot in the foot (ow) and in the shoulder (ow) and almost got locked into one of those stupid ectophobic nets, but he made it home nonetheless.

The alarm was still audible, and Hemlock Ave. probably had a few thousand dollars in repairs. He couldn't wait to hear at school tomorrow how this was his fault for playing tag.

===

Spooky, Scary, and Scientific: What do Ghosts Mean for Me?

4 Oct. at 11:00 AM

This time last month, you were thinking about what to cook for dinner and when to go return that DVD. But now ectology has entered the mainstream, and the same thing is on your mind as everyone else's: death!

Well, not the sad, existential kind of death thoughts. More like… "Is anybody I used to know a ghost now?" "Would I still recognize them?" "Was everybody wrong about Heaven?" "Will I become a ghost when I die?" It just feels like we all know so little about ghosts.

But I've gathered as much research as I could find from the top ectologists, and I'm going to help you make sense of it too. If you want philosophy, this isn't the blog for you. But hopefully, going in with the right scientific knowledge will make the emotional parts easier!

Let's start with a pretty fundamental one:

Are these ghosts really the spirits of the dead?

Interestingly, as much as a lot of them look like they could have been human once, we don't have any proof that humanoid "ghosts" come from the souls or identities of real humans. In fact, it's looking more like ghosts, which form out of invisible concentrations of ectoplasm in the air and ground, just take after humans because they're the best source of emotional energy.

That's right, emotional energy is a real thing! Since our brains work via patterns of electric pulses, those pulses can imprint the same patterns into ectoplasm and cause it to act in ways it normally can't. See Fenton 2003 for more info on that.

Ghosts are just functional forms of ectoplasm, and have no ability to relate to humanity or have emotions of their own, so it seems they take forms like ours to gain more access to human emotional energy. I wouldn't say they do this on purpose, but then, it's tough to say ghosts do anything "on purpose", since they just automatically work toward their goal. It's just how they function!

Some are capable of doing this in really complex ways, actually. It's very interesting! So let's talk about…

How many kinds of ghosts are there?

[read the rest of the post on kristenscorner.blog]

[bruciemilf]

I so desperately crave a fic where Bruce forgets all about an interview he scheduled with Clark, specifically, with our boys in this portrayal

He's swallowed up by that ginormous red hoodie Jason always forgets at the manor. It's got a soft undertone of beer and pizza clinging to it, and knowing Jay, the chances of that changing are close to none.

It's Bruce's favourite thing to wear.

Below that, Dick's sweatpants have to be snaked tight around his waist. He's wearing Tim's ridiculously soft socks, Batman themed as well, a flock of bats starting from his calf and gathering into his famous cowl on top of his foot.

On his hands, he's sporting two bracelets that Damian and Cassandra asked him to help craft. He accepted, of course, because his little Damian looked astray, eyebrows down and eyes worried, scared of rejection.

They were both terrible at it. Cassandra had a great time. And Bruce's dark green and sunshine gold bracelets pleased Damian greatly.

But he had no time to shower that morning; His ribs were moaning still, every step he took feeling like Bane's brutal, sledgehammer punches, hitting him right in the gut.

And Dick stole all his conditioner, and Steph smuggled his skincare products, exfoliants, bath salts, and everything she could get her grabby little hands on, and gone she was. Tiny fingers, big damage.

But that was fine; He didn't expect anyone today. He'll just scarf some blueberries and yoghurt and gulp down four espressos before burying his nose in Jim's earliest case.

That's what he thought

Before modern day Adonis suddenly emerged I his living room.

This man, he's...He's... he's beauty. That's all Bruce can muster in his flustered mind, brain itself blushing, cheeks hot and soaring with a fierce flush. Which was impossible to miss with his paleness. God.

There you are! Got me scared for a moment there," oh no. He makes deep voices sound cute. Those pearly whites had no mercy on Bruce, neither did that boyish grin, glowing silver and warm. " Thought I'd fall through a secret door and straight into a shark tank. "

Say something. Say something funny, come on, he's joking with you.

" ... Why are you In my house?"

Fuck.

"This man, - Clark, Bruce knows who he is. Out of all the bad things that had to happen today, being surprised by his favorite journalist just had to be one of them, - blinks, some grin cut down, and Bruce curses in his mind.

"Um. Your father let me in. Did you forget,-"

" I forgot you were coming. I, uh. I," he stuttered; He hasn't stuttered since he was 16, and had to pitch that board meeting to a mile long table of greedy, silver artefacts in suits who wanted to snatch his company. " I, - Coffee. You want...Coffee?"

"...Sure. I'd love some."

Was it just Bruce, or did this report carry a note of amusement in those words? Bruce scrambled for the first cupboard he could see, " NO!"

Clark jumped on his feet, making a dash for him behind the kitchen island. Bruce almost choked, because up close, he could notice the buttons and seams on that baby blue plaid shirt fight for their lives. " What's wrong?!"

" We're out of coffee," he hissed, muttering a ' damn it, Tim, I TOLD you to replace it' but no matter. He had to find Clark something else. " Uh... Water? Juice? Do you like orange juice?"

He could see it, the corners of Clark's lips tugging upwards, " Orange juice is my favourite drink. But it's fine, really. I'm here to unbury your deepest darkest secrets, not have lunch," he smiled, then, most likely noticing Bruce simply froze in place, he added, " That was a joke!"

Bruce forced a laugh, " Of course. Why would I have something to hide? I have nothing to hide," Very well, that sounded entirely too suspicious. " I mean, not anything illegal. Just... Secrets. The normal amount."

Clark nodded, endlessly patient, this saint of a man, " I've had my share of that. Don't worry, Mr. Wayne."

" Oh, just Bruce. That's my name."

The taller man smiled, " I'm just going to ask you about your involvement in renovating Arkham and maybe Mr. Grayson's podcast, but that's all. I won't try to fish for information. I don't believe in peer pressure and bullying."

" I know," his mouth spoke without him, " I, uh, I know you. Your journalism, I mean! My youngest enjoys your online interviews. We watch you together. I'm a fan of your writing, thought. It's magnificent. "

Even if Clark blushed to be polite and thanked him quietly, Bruce wanted to dive off a building without a grappling hook.

" Uh... Bruce? You're murdering your orange."

True enough. The fruit was entirely empty in his clenched fist, spilling over his hand and pooling on the floor. Bruce cursed. Slamming the sad, deflated remaining on the counter, he simply said, " I'll cut this now."

" Okay." Nodded Clark, clear, perfect blue eyes fixed on Bruce and his hands. Bruce only prays his fingers won't tremble like his heart is.

He stabs the orange.

It squirts all over his hoodie, and Bruce offers no reaction. It's almost worth it, this pit of mortification slowly, tortuously devouring his body, to see Clark's impressive frame shake with laughter behind his giant hands, goofy glasses crooked on his nose.

" I'm sorry," he sounds as dead as he feels. " The orange has retaliated." That did it; Clark was full on laughing now. Humiliation burned like liquid fire over Bruce's face.

If Dick were here, or Alfred, he'd hide his face into their chests like a shameful child. But neither are there, so all he can do is slowly place the knife on top of marble, and stand there like a statue.

Coming off his high, Clark watches him closely, a speckle of mirth shining on blue. " You know, you're nothing like I thought you'd be. As much as I enjoy this, you should change."

" I'll try. I don't want to be like this, either."

Clark grinned. " I meant your clothes, Bruce."

" ... Yes. I should. I have a large collection of clean clothes. Because I do my laundry regularly. I know how to do laundry."

Why are you still talking?

Then, gone was that angelic, fond grin from Clark's Greek statue of a face. He smiled hotly, almost...Sultry? At Bruce now. Something saucy. Sweat was sticking to his skin. " Do you want me to pick something for you?"

"... Please?" He squeaked.

Twin steps went inside his bedroom, and they didn't come out for a long time.

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n) stands in the kitchen of her mother and step-father's apartment, making the bean dip Smelly Gabe liked so much.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the counter but then she lets out a yelp as something hits her in between her shoulder blades.

"Hurry it up, girl!" Smelly Gabe snarls.

"Yes sir," (Y/n) murmurs.

A few minutes later, Gabe stalks into the kitchen, takes the dip without so much of a thank you.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the shoe on the ground before she moves to her room. She climbs into her bed, getting under her covers. (Y/n) turns, facing the wall.

She closes her eyes, falling to an uneasy sleep.

(Y/n) watches, disconnected from the others in the dream, as one of her brother's teachers turns into something that reminded her of a demon, or something similar that she'd read books about. The woman had bat wings, claws, and a mouth of yellow fangs.

Then (Y/n) looks around, her eyes widening in shock as she sees her brother holding a bronze sword.

Percy swings the sword, the demon exploding into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot.

A hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder has (Y/n) jolting awake. "Honey? Are you okay?" Sally Jackson asks.

Catching the wide-eyed look of horror on (Y/n)'s face, Sally wraps her daughter in a hug.

(Y/n)'s breathing steadies, and she breathes in her mother's familiar scent - chocolate, licorice, and all the other things she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central Station.

"Did you get all your work done?" Sally asks softly, her thumb brushing over a slightly visible bruise that had appeared at the base of the back of her neck.

(Y/n) hums in reply.

. . .

The next day, (Y/n) is once again lying in her bed, not wanting to have to deal with Gabe throwing more shoes or glass bottles at / near her.

. . .

Percy walks into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him, hoping his mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN; chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom? (Y/n)?"

"Mom's working," Gabe says. "The girl's in her room. You got any cash?"

"That's it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

Gabe had put on weight since the last time Percy had seen him. Gabe looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He has about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp.

"I don't have any cash," Percy replies.

Gabe raises a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which is surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he says. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looks at Percy with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he says. The guy just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeats.

Eddie scowls into his bowl of pretzels. The two other guys pass gas in harmony.

"Fine," Percy says. He digs a wad of dollars out of his pocket and throws the money on the table. "I hope you lose."

"Your report card came, brain boy!" He shouts back at Percy. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

Percy slams the door to his room, which isn't really his room. During school months, it is Gabe's 'study.' He doesn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loves shoving his stuff in Percy's closet, leaving his muddy boots on the windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne, cigars, and stale beer.

Percy drops his suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home he thinks.

Gabe's smell is almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

Percy sits, lost in his thoughts.

Then he hears his mom's voice, "Percy?" She opens the bedroom door, and his fears melt. "Oh, Percy," she hugs him tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas."

Sally had brought Percy a bag of 'free samples' the way she always did whenever he'd come home.

The two sit together on the bed. While Percy attacks the blueberry sour strings, she runs her hands through his hair, demanding to know everything that he hadn't put in his letters. She doesn't mention his getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that.

Percy tells his mother that she is smothering him, but secretly, Percy is really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally - how about some bean dip, huh?"

Percy grits his teeth. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should be married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

(Y/n) pads into Percy's room, and the dark haired boy brightens at the sight of his younger twin.

"I've got the dip, Mom," (Y/n) says softly. Sally gazes at her daughter for a moment, her gaze sad.

"Wait, (Y/n)," Sally says, and (Y/n) turns back to face her mother. "I've got a surprise for the two of you," she says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin," Sally replies.

"When?" (Y/n) asks, looking excited.

She smiles, "As soon as I get changed."

(Y/n) can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk in the last two summers because Gabe had said that there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in the doorway behind (Y/n) and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Percy wants to punch him, but he meets his mother's eyes, and understands that she is offering him a deal: Be nice to Gabe for a little while; just until she's ready to leave for Montauk.

"I've got it, Gabe," (Y/n) says.

"Sorry, honey," Sally says, looking at her husband. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes get small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy mutters. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," Sally says evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money."

(Y/n) turns to face Gabe, smiling as kindly as she could. "What if I make a seven-layer dip that'll last the whole weekend?" she asks. "Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softens a bit, then turns back to face Sally. "So, this money for your trip . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," Sally replies.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratches his double chin. "Maybe if the girl hurries up with the seven-layer dip . . . and if the boy apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, Percy thinks. And make you sing soprano for a week.

"I'm sorry," Percy mutters. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important power game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrow. His tiny brain is probably trying to detect the sarcasm in my statement, Percy thinks.

"Yeah, whatever," Gabe decides; he goes back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," Sally says. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about...whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, (Y/n) can see anxiety in her mother's eyes, but then her smile returns, and (Y/n) figures that she must've been mistaken.

. . .

An hour later, the three are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch (Y/n) and Percy lug the bags to his car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her and (Y/n)'s cooking - and more important, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warns Percy as he loads the last bag into the car. "Not one little scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I'm fourteen, Percy thinks.

Watching Gabe lumbers back towards the apartment building, Percy gets so mad that he does something he can't explain. As Gabe reaches the door, Percy makes the hand gesture he'd seen Grover made on the bus, a soft of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over his heart, then a shoving movement towards Gabe. The screen door slams so hard it whacks him the the butt and sends him flying up the staircase as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

. . .

(Y/n)'s POV

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There's always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

I loved the place.

Mom, Percy, and I had been going ever since Percy and I'd been a baby. Mom had been coming even longer. She'd never exactly said, but I know why the beach was special to her.

It's the place where she'd met my Dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turn the color of the sea.

We get there around sunset, open all the cabin's windows, and go through the usual cleaning routine.

Mom, Percy, and I walk on the beach, feed blue corn-chips to the seagulls, and munch on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples Mom had brought home from work.

I guess maybe I should explain all the blue food.

Gabe had once told Mom that there was no such thing. They had had this fight, which had seemed like a really small think at the time, but ever since, Mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue-corn tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - is proof that she isn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells Percy and me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents had died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what is always on our minds whenever we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure she would tell us the same things she always did, but neither Percy or I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom replies. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too, like you, (Y/n)." Mom says and I soften. "You have his black hair, Percy, and you both share his green eyes.

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two. He would be so proud."

I wonder how she could say that when I'm the girl who cowers from her stepfather. The girl who hides in her room to get away from said stepfather.

"How old were we?" Percy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But . . . he knew us as babies."

"No, honey," Mom replies. "He knew I was expecting twins, but he never met you. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact that I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow, maybe a smile.

Percy and I had always assumed that our father had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt that it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I feel angry at my father. Maybe it is stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asks. "To another boarding school?"

Mom pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey," her voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" Percy says and I flinch, avoiding both his and Mom's gazes.

I glance up to see that Mom's eyes had welled up with tears. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

"But you never send her away," Percy says and I look up, eyes wide with surprise.

Mom looks at Percy, eyes wide with shock.

Finally she says, "I have to keep both of you away from each other as much as possible. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"I tried to keep you as close to me as I could," Mom says. "They told me it was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, (Y/n) - the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just . . . I just can't stand to do it."

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask.

"Not a school," Mom replies. "A summer camp."

My head spins. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around to see me and Percy be born - talk to Mom about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Mom says, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp . . ."

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression, that if we asked any more questions, she would start to cry.

Word Count: 2413 words

[goji-pilled]

welcome to part 7, where nothing from epidsode 7 is mentioned!!! now witb added romance subplot, crushed crushes, and angy blueberry!!! welcome to part 7 of "Homura Makes a New Friend!"

also this may have been longer than usual, nd has some fluff in th start. only a tiny bit tho.

---

"I've gotta say, it's nice to see you making more friends as you grow up Lili. To think, it almost feels as though it was yesterday when you first came to Mitakihara."

Standing at the front door was a tall man with glasses and an apron wrapped around his body. In his arms was a little tyke that made grabby hands at the blonde standing next to Kyouko, babling about "Sisa" in the baby language kids have before they get smart.

She did not at all, in the slightest, shift her arms to open them up for a little bundle of life before crossing her arms. Don't be ridiculous.

"Now, I believe we should introduce ourselves. My name is Kaname Tomohisa, and this is little Tatsuya. Say hi Tat-kun!" The father turned himself to have the child face Kyouko, a spark lighting up in the kids eyes as he saw the redhead and heard his papa's words. Tat-kun waved a chubby fist and said "hi!" before turning back to Blondie; Kyouko waved back, not noticing Tomohisa's stare.

Be strong Kyouko. Be strong.

"Now, I know that Lili would go on an impassioned speech on who you are, but I'd like to hear from the girl herself." The man said that so casually, almost as if Blondie had that problem with every person she called a friend. Based on what happened earlier today and how said girl was blushing, probably happened often.

"Name's Sakura Kyouko sir. Just met your daughter one day and now I'm here, nothing special." Minus the whole I almost killed her and her friend deal, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "She said she wanted to know each other better, make it a sleepover one day. Figured why not? Don't really have anything else to do."

Papa Kaname must've been fine with that as soon Kyouko found herself in a very clean and modern house that screamed upper-middle class. It was a lot cozier than what she's every had before, when she's been on her own for so long. It'd be nice to not hafta sneak into an empty hotel room or a dingy apartment in butt-fuck nowhere.

Just as she was appreciating the nice white and off-grey minimalist living room Kyouko felt a hand grab her own. Turning her head she saw Blondie give her a cold look before sending a smile towards her old man.

"We'll be upstairs Tomohisa-san, we'll come back down whenever dinner is ready - do you need any help tonight?" Blondie had not so subtly pushed the shorter redhead towards the stairs but waited at the threshold of the kitchen. Papa Kaname looked to be cutting up some apple slices for Tat-kun while a pot simmered on a stove.

"Don't worry Lili, I have things taken care of here. Go on to your room, get to know your new friend and gossip over any handsome boys or cute girls you saw today." That teasing tone laced in the soft smile sent to his daughter, it reminded Kyouko of the good memories she had...

"Dad!"

Blushing a cute pink that went well with the bee hairdo, Blondie started to push her up the stairs and down the hall to an end room. Once at the door the presumed owner swung the door inward and tossed themselves in, shutting the door with a soft click.

The room wasn't much to look at, standard tween girl's bedroom with comfy bed and pillows that were dressed in blue sheets. The window next to the bed held little knick-knacks and photos that belonged to Blondie, smiling faces of blue, yellow, and green facing the head of the bed. On the desk looked like some wind-up musical box that was left open upside down, the miniature dancer twirling on a stage with a gaudy dress.

Wasn't that much more than her old bedroom, but Kyouko didn't have complaints.

Taking a seat at the desk, mindful of the open notebook filled with blue doodles, Kyouko turned to face the blonde who sat on the cushy bed.

"...So, first thing's first, ya got a name or are people just calling ya random shit?" It was something that bugged Kyouko when she heard three different people who were (arguably) suppossed to be the kid's friends all call her different things.

"Oh, uh, yes I do have a name. It's just that I don't like my name anymore, so I let people call me whatever they want. Sometimes I give people names to call me, but there are only two people who actually know what my name is." The kid had hunched in on herself, pulling out the blue ribbon out from her hair and letting the mess of black and yellow flow freely down her face. Some got in her mouth and she let out a sputter to spit it out.

"Hmph, alright kid, I'll humour ya. Dunno how or why somebody would just give up their name, but I ain't one to judge. Live and let live I guess..."

Kyouko had started to lean back in the chair she sat in, balancing on two legs before twirling the entire seat to lean on the desk. She scrutinized the blonde before her, a sudden memory of Mami waking up in the morning when she crashed one night coming to mind. She shoved that memory into a barrel filled with concrete and tossed into the ocean of her subconscious.

"The next thing, Lilith," the kid perked up at the name, combing golden locks away from her face, "what was up with all that nonsense with short, dark, and edge back there? Having trouble in paradise or something?" It was an honest question, one she hoped wasn't actually accurate. She caught the tail-end of their spat after having to mask her prescence and dull her sense to hide from them, and then heard the slap all the way up top.

She stabbed Super Strong Girl and then nabbed Blondie - er, Lilith - before ending up here when her kidnappe said she wanted to talk.

Lilith stopped combing her hair back, strands tangled in between her fingers as her body went rigid. The blush didn't fade from her face yet, it actually seemed to grow deeper.

"It-it wasn't like that! Akemi-san is cool and all, and yeah sometimes I have these drea-thoughts! Thoights of her sometimes, but that doesn't mean anything! It'd be nice if she saw me as a friend but, but it's fine if she's not!" Oh boy, this girl was down bad.

"And our fight was- well..." Her eyes harden, shoulders hunched up as a finger twirled some hair. "It was about her, and my friends, and the whole thing about Magical Girls..."

"Ah, trying to keep up that stupid ideal, huh? Just like Tomoe and that Sayaka chick?" A smirk played against her lips, the Crimson Lancer crossing her arms as a smug aura enveloped her.

"Actually, it's about how they - and I guess you too - are all fighting for no reason. Witches, I mean! Fighting Witches for no reason!" Huh? The fuck did she mean by that?

There must've been something funky on Kyouko's face, 'cause Lilith started going on about how they were trapped in a cycle of endless fighting. A trap where the only escape was death, stuck in an endless battle, on a meangiless battlefield. Then she went on about how she had to live with the fact that three people she cares about are - not if, will! - doomed to die and she can't do anything about.

Then she started talking about the rookie.

"I can guess what senpai, er Tomoe?" She looked at Kyouko, an unasked question in her eyes; Kyouko waved it off. "Senpai could've wished to survive or to live, but I know what Sayaka-san wished for. Her heart is always in the right place, but it was as you said earlier, she wished to help someone else.

"A childhood friend of hers, Kamijou Kyousuke-" Damn girl, what did he do to you?! "was in an accident that caused him to lose feeling in his hands. Like, he lost his arms even though they were still attached to him. Sayaka had gone to a show where she saw him play the violin when they were young, and she fell in love with the music. But over the years she ended up thinking that she fell in love with him."

Wow, this was seriously winding her up. Lilith actually stood up and started pacing around the room, following a groove indented in the floor.

"So Sayaka-san ends up visiting him nearly every day to comfort him and help him move on, but this stupid country and its stupid- Mmm. He can't see past anything but his broken arms and doesn't even realize what he has right there in front of him! His stupid self-worth issues are hurting Sayaka-chan and she doesn't deserve that!

"I know this country has stupid ideals on self-worth and work and being not-broken, but Sayaka-chan keeps throwing herself at this boy that can't even open his eyes to see his friend trying to help him! Her kindness and love are burning her and Sayaka-chan just wants someone to love her, to be with her, like everyone else. She wants something she doesn't have but she can't see that she can have that! She can-is! Loved, but she only ever looks at that stupid boy and not-"

Lilith had been pacing around, breathe growing sharper and shallower, as her eyes wore a glistening coat. She eventually fell back on her bed and slumped herself into a ball, tears falling as she tries to compose herself.

Kyouko thought back to that journal behind, the blue doodles and that little rant she witnessed. The redhead planted the chair bavk down and stood up, taking a few steps. She sat herself next to Lilith's form and placed a hand on the girl's arm, a warmth eminating out from the palm. She should've seen the koala hug coming.

They stayed like that for a moment, Kyouko rubbing circles on Lilith's back as the lovestruck kid tried to reign her tears back.

"I-i'm sor-ry. I shou-shouldn't be rambli-ing about this. B-B-But she's my b-best friend, and sh-she helped me fit in, when I-I-I firsted moved here and-"

"Shhh... It's okay kiddo. Just let it out. It's been a freaky couple of weeks, huh?"

"Mhmm!"

"... Ya know, I get where your comin' from, a bit." Kyouko briefly thought to herself, if she was really gonna go through with this, air out her dirty laundry to a randy. Then her mind said fuck it and her conscious rose from the grave to smack her mind for even thinking of sayin' "no".

"Sayaka was- is a kinda rock for you, right? Someone you looked up to and wanted to do right by?"

"Ye-ah..."

"So ya went with the flow, started out as friends and then ended up as besties? Figure that was the highest your relationship was gonna be? Then you look at 'em one day and just..."

A memory of Mama, Momo, and Mami at a kitchen table. Smiling. Laughing. Happy.

"...yeaah..."

"Yeah... but then thinga happen, and suddenly thinga are different. Too different between then and now, and the now was having a buncha shit thrown your way?"

Lilith nodded her head, buried in the crook of Kyouko's soggy neck.

"So ya latch onto anything and anyone that you can lash out at, and hope that'll help fix things. That it'll make the pain go away?"

A bridge during winter, Mami at one end and Kyouko at the other.

A sniffle and another nod.

"Yeah... I'm in the same boat too kid... found out Mami got a new recruit and... saw too much of me in yer friend. I'm sorry, if I made the gap too wide now."

"No... don't be... it's only right and fair of us to be angry, when the people we love hurt us. We just have to do better, and be better for them. For ourselves. For each other."

"Hmph... I can get behind that..."

The two girls stayed there, clutching eavh other as the world remained silent around them. The sunset colouring themselves in reds and oranges, of the colors of passion. Eventually Kyouko decided to break the silence.

"Hey, Lilith? How about I set things right?" The crybaby had finally stopped shedding tears and lifted her head off of Kyouko's shoulder; Welp, she needed to clean her hoodie anyway.

"I'll go set set things straight between me and yer friends, try and patch things up with Mami and Sayaka. Then you find your super friend and patch things up, and make sure she doesn't snap me in two fer makin' ya cry?" Lilith let out a giggle, muttering something about "Akemi-chan wouldn't do that" before a smile bloomed on her face.

"*sniff* Deal, Sakura-san."

"Please, Lilith, call me Kyouko."

...

...

That was how Sakura Kyouko, infamous drifter and street rat of Kazamino, ended up with temporary room and board at the Kaname's. She made sure to at least earn her stay by keeping up with chores and babysitting, when she wasn't out hunting at least.

Things were... actually really nice at the Kaname's pad. Sure the entire family was always a smack in the face with how close to home they all were, but Kyouko could handle it. They were also very accommodating when Tatsuya ended up screaming during a tantrum and sent the redhead into a spiral; Tat-kun, bless his heart, even promised not to scream around her anymore.

Things were nice, they were great actually. Then the night at the overpass happened.

...

...

"What are you doing here?"

Miki Sayaka was currently stanced in front of a gate that led to a manor of a mansion behind it. The Kamijou Estate, dark except for a scarce few lights in the windows.

"Was out on a stroll, been doin' some thinkin'. Came around here when I found out the name of the guy you wished on." Kyouko made sure to make herself look small and relaxed, get it in the rookie's head that she wasn't looking for a fight.

"So... that's the guy 'eh? Not my tastes, but then again I have high standards." She strolled up to stand next to Sayaka, the taller girl befuddled by the docile act. "Gotta ask though, didn't Tomoe ever tell about how selfless wishes end up goin' bad for us? Figured, with our history and all..."

Ooo she can feel those pearly whites grinding.

"You ever thought up of any better ideas to try and get him ta look at ya, or did you actually think you wanted to help him?"

"What!? Are you seriously still going on about that?! Yeah, Mami gave me the same warning, that a wish is better used on yourself. That sort of thinking isn't right to me, though, so I used it to help someone I cared about! I bet it was a lot more selfless than whatever you wished for?"

Jeeze this girl... No, stay calm Kyouko, stay calm. You promised Lilith.

"It may not be a law, but it does sorta feel like more than just some philosphy rookie. For every act of hope there will be an equal amount of despair that'll follow it; light bigets dark and that shit." Kyouko pulled a hand out from her pocket, an open box of Pokey held out. Sayaka merely scoffed at the offer before walking away.

"Ya didn't hafta keep comin' back to him. Ya coulda just left him to cool off before makin' that wish, so why didn't you?" The taller girl stopped midstep, arching her neck back to look at the redhead. "Jus' sayin'. If I were in your shoes, even if I was head over heels for someone, I wouldn't waste my time with trying to help someone who didn't want it."

Sayaka fully turned around now, a frown marring her face. That ring on her hand, was it always sparking like that?

"Just what the heck would you know about that?! How'd you even learn about-" Sayaka pointed her ringed finger at Kyouko, question dying on her lips as she muttered something under breathe. She clenched her hand into a fist, before opening it up to cup her Soul Gem between both hands. In a flash of light and water Sayaka shifted into her uniform.

"We're settling this, now! For everything you said and did that day!" God dammit, this girl... the hell does Lilith see in her?

Kyouko didn't say anything to the instigator. The Crimson Lancer merely shrugged her shoulders, she gave it a shot, and started walking down the estate path.

"Fine then rookie. Follow me, wouldn't want anyone to see you get yer ass kicked now would you?"

It wasn't long before the two combatants found themselves on an empty overpass, the freeway so far down below them that any drivers wouldn't be able to see the flashy stuff up above. Sayaka had already fell into a ready stance, cutlass held in a fierce grip as she stared at her prey with murder in her eyes. It'd be scary if Kyouko didn't already know that the rookie was still a bjt green. The redhead had pocketed away her snacks in her hoodie, hand grasping for her Soul Gem.

"Sayaka-san!" / "Sakura-san."

The hell? Glancing behind her were the owners of the two recognizable voices. Lilith was currently tugging back a very peeved Mami by the puffy sleeve, the rifle the Sharpshooter carried looking more intricate and detailed than the mock ones from their fight. Why the hell were they here? How the hell did they know where to look?

"Stay outta this Errika!" The fuck, aren't they supposed to be besties?!

Facing forwards again Kyouko saw a look of utter betrayal and hate being sent through her. She heard a cross between a gasp and a cry come from behind her; since when were Lilith and Sayaka not on speaking terms?!

"Sakura-san, I had hoped that after our prior engagment that you would leave things be. How unfortunate to know that you've sought out to harass my pupil once more." And Mami is still bitter 'bout that, this is just great.

"Believe it or not Tomoe-san, I didn't instifate this fight. Your student over there challenged me after I tried to have a diplomatic conversation!" What was the point? The damage had been done, but she at least could put the idea that she was telling a truth, if not the truth. It must've worked 'cause Mami seemed to at least stop approaching, even if there was still doubt in her eyes.

"It may be difficult to comprehend, Sakura Kyouko, however you're actions have left us little reason to believe you." Oh for fuck's sake! Sure enough standing behind Sayaka was a decked out Akemi Homura, teleporting next to the Knight when the rookie swung behind her.

There was a tense silence as the four left themselves in a standstill. Sayaka was still poised to attack, likely itching to swing at both Kyouko and Akemi. Mami had shifted her grip to be ready to fire at a moment's notice, potential targets and weak points charted out for her pea shooters and rifles. Akemi was stock still as she stood in full garb, wind blowing her hair back as she stared disinterestedly at the others; she'd probably be able to obliterate them all in the blink of an eye.

Kyouko was still in her civi clothes, and while she may still be more durable than the average human, she very much liked these clothes.

"... Fine then, I'll make the first move!"

And that's when it all happened.

Kyouko swung her hand out of her pocket, Soul Gem in hand. Sayaka launched a blade from her hilt before the Lancer finished speaking. Mami had lined up her shot and preemptively fired to disarm her ex-partner.

Kyouko's hand was cut clean off from the wrist by a blade, and her dismembered hand was shot off into the air.

Akemi gasped and the teleported as she saw the hand, the Crimson Soul Gem, fly off the bridge and into the freeway. Lilith screeched out a heartwreching "No!" before trying to fling herself off the edge to catch the gem.

Then Sakura Kyouko passed out, life fleeing out of her body, as she became nothing more than a corpse.

---

ain't i a stinkah? tune in to part eight, the part that is supposed to be this AU's version of episode 8. th epsiode known as "I'm Such a Fool". r u excited?! just three more or so after this nd th AU will be complete!

／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼

if im excited for "episode" 8 they ask, as if you dont already know that its gonna fucking break me on every level imaginable-

also.

[zoffra]

The Achilles' heel

Kortopi ran almost two kilometers, passing passers-by with ease without even grazing them and jumping against the facades of the building bars.

He arrived at the appointment ten minutes ahead of schedule. He didn't have time to catch his breath when he heard a voice behind him.

'You'll follow me without question. Nod gently if you agree.'

Kortopi slowly moved his head up and down, then froze instantly when he felt the cold barrel of a revolver press against his neck. He swallowed his saliva with difficulty. He was still a child, but in delicate situations, his analytical mind was as good as any of the other members. He was very lucid about the strength and intentions of his opponents.

He's serious, he'll kill me if I try anything

Something disturbed Kortopi's already chaotic thoughts, even more than the threat of being shot in the head.

Wedy wasn't there.

He couldn't make out his face because of his motorcycle helmet, but from his voice, the child deduced that his attacker was a young man under thirty.

They walked for another twenty minutes or so, and then stopped in front of a large motorcycle of a Japanese mark.

.....

The ride had been going on for over an hour by the time they got off the highway. Kortopi was handcuffed like a leg of lamb, but deep down he seemed to enjoy the moment.

The landscape was passing before his eyes like a fast-moving movie and was quite different from the panorama of Meteor city. Fields of wheat, poppies, and blueberries were gradually replacing the concrete towers and skyscrapers of the suburbs. They arrived in the countryside when a gentle autumn rain began to fall, wetting Kortopi's long hair sticking out of his motorcycle helmet.

.....

'Come down.' The young man took off his helmet and his long golden blond hair fell to his shoulders. Korutopi repressed a shiver when he saw his face, marked by a huge burn that extended from his jaw to between his nose and his left eye.

The child hastily looked away when he noticed a silhouette that looked familiar, moving towards them.

'Wedy, next time it's you who's going to do it. I'm not your delivery boy.'

'Lay down, Mello.' She's crouching down in front of Kortopi, taking off her handcuffs, 'Didn't my partner put you through too much misery?'

.....

They took a dirt path lined with pine and cherry blossoms. After walking for several minutes, they came to a small paved courtyard with an extraordinarily carved walnut wood porch.

Kortopi opened his mouth in surprise when they entered the building.

The dilapidated barn as seen from the outside was in fact be converted into a loft in a rustic, uncluttered style. The hall was so large that their footsteps resounded like an echo. The old oak parquet flooring was covered with a brightly colored graphic carpet, and long duck blue velvet curtains draped over the bay windows.

'Matt!' Mello roared from the lobby, and then came down the stairs that seemed to lead to a basement. Within seconds, the man known as Matt came down the central staircase. He was wearing a long-sleeved top with red and black stripes and jeans tucked into his brown boots. The smoky lenses of his glasses were not perceptible to his eyes.

When he reached Kortopi, the young man took off his black gloves and replaced them with surgical gloves, 'Spread your arms and legs.'

A terrible feeling of fear and humiliation overcame Kortopi, sensing the hands of a stranger performing a thorough body search.

'We've to make sure you don't have a wire. Take a deep breath.' Wedy, with his back to him, said this in a strangely compassionate way.

'Nothing to report.'

When the search was over, Wedy led Kortopi to the door Mello had used earlier, 'Time for introductions. Ready to meet the boss?'

.....

Kortopi shivered, his footsteps getting heavier and heavier as he sank into the basement next to Matt and Wedy. They walked down a long corridor, the atmosphere was nothing like the warmth of the ground floor. The neon lights were sizzling, emitting a whitish light reminiscent of hospitals, the walls were rough concrete and a slight smell of dampness pervaded the place.

They reached a large steel armored door that even Phinks would have had a hard time breaking through, and then Wedy knocked.

One knock. Three knocks. One knock.

And the door opened.

Questions raced through Kortopi's foggy mind. He wondered what the leader of these treasure seekers might look like, and felt a sense of excitement in spite of himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mello slumped on a worn-out leather armchair, devouring a bar of chocolate. He wouldn't have seen him if his big eye hadn't been so sharp. The room was plunged into darkness, and the only source of light came from the back of the room, emitted by a gigantic wall of surveillance screens. About fifty monitors were showing scenes of people's daily lives in public places, bars, but also in private homes and apartments.

Kortopi squinted at the light from the screens that hurt him, looking for one that would confirm his theory.

'Ninth column, third row.'

Kortopi turned to the raised voice and noticed a young man from behind with a famished appearance, strangely seated on his chair in a squatting position. The young man turned towards the child, his black half-long hair sweeping across his pale face and his bangs falling over his large black eyes.

When his eyes landed on the viewer, Kortopi's heart missed a beat. And for good reason, two groups of people who were not supposed to meet at all were on the same screen.

Phinks, Feitan, and Nobunaga had displayed their powerful and threatening aura, facing the magician and the puppeteer.

All this could have been avoided if a certain person had not been clumsy.

A few hours earlier, Machi had planned to order a cake for Nobunaga's birthday. She already knew what she wanted, it had been several weeks since she had imagined the piece, working meticulously on the details. She wanted it to be coated with mascarpone, nougatine pearls with a speculoos pastry, the top covered with a thirteen-legged spider in fleur de sel, then thirty candles would cover the whole thing.

The vibrator of her mobile phone brought her out of her daydream and her sweet smile faded completely when she read the contents.

They're drunk. Your turn. Good luck ^o^'

Machi huffed and puffed, and furiously put away her phone, cursing the manipulator, when she saw Shizuku in the elevator. She hesitated for a short moment, but as time was running out, she reluctantly asked her to order the cake.

.....

The troupe had enjoyed an excellent meal at the hotel restaurant when the waiter finally brought dessert.

Machi almost choked on his drink.

Instead of the cake she had imagined, there was a banana cake with two large, shapeless candles on top, almost burnt.

'This is not what I asked for.' Machi grabbed the waiter with such force that she almost broke his arm.

'Machi! Sorry, I couldn't remember which cake you wanted, so I chose Topi's favorite! I wanted to at least please the little one,' the little black-haired girl replied nonchalantly.

Machi loosened her grip and her icy look slipped towards poor Shizuku.

'Machi.'

Deep down, the ice queen knew that Shizuku wasn't responsible for her memory loss but she couldn't help it, she was angry.

Since Uvoguine's death, Machi felt helpless in the face of Nobunaga's plight, which she saw withering away. His suffering, his loneliness, his pain was bursting in ambiance, and she had the unpleasant feeling that she was the only one who understood the evidence.

She resented the spiders for that too. Against Shizuku, who hadn't managed to memorize a simple cake model. Against Feitan and Phinks, if those morons hadn't swallowed the equivalent of their weight in beer at four o'clock in the afternoon, she would have had time to order it herself. But more than anything else, she was angry with herself.

'Machi.'

When the brigade was still on York-Shin, no one knew that she spent three nights in the Goldo desert looking for Uvoguine's body, tracing tiny spikes of Nen that would have survived.

Eventually, she found him. The smell was nauseating, but it didn't matter. She cleaned his body with a damp glove, repaired his bruised limbs, and closed his eyes. Not wanting his friend to rest where the chain user had decided, she dug another grave. Then she adorned it with three flat stones intertwined with her Nen wire. This is what Nobunaga would have wanted.

'MACHI!'

Nobunaga's loud voice finally got her out of her head.

When she turned her head towards him, she was surprised to see that he was smiling at her. It was a real smile, one that came from the heart and made his dimples appear, right at the corner of her thin lips.

Nobunaga put his big hand on the pink-haired young woman's shoulder and gently pulled her against him, whispering in the crook of her ear, 'You've always been there, haven't you?

..........

As the situation seemed to calm down, no one noticed the little drops of sweat dripping from Illumi's forehead, still dressed in Kortopi. And for good reason, if the assassin was trained in all kinds of torture, poisons, and other joyous things, he had a ridiculous Achilles' heel.

The banana.

Illumi was mortally allergic to it. His parents - caring people - tried to make it ineffective on the puppeteer's body, through all kinds of treatments and force-feeding, but nothing ever worked.

Seeing the disaster coming and the spiders getting drunk as pigs, Illumi thought that he would have no better opportunity to escape than this one.

'Grow up, Topi!' The puppeteer didn't have time to push back the generous spoon served by Feitan that the piece of cake was already in the back of his mouth, knowing that the delicacy of a drunken Feitan is worth twice that of a sober Uvoguine.

And it happened.

Illumi took five steps before he regained his appearance. His head swelled like a watermelon making his large eyes look abnormally small, his usually slender fingers had become all puffy, and his slender silhouette settled as if his whole body was retaining water. He didn't die after all. But Illumi wondered if he might not have preferred it when he heard a hyena laughing from behind a column.

'I thought your transformations could last five hours ♥'

[the-fiction-witch]

Bubblegum Kisses

TV SHOW ACCUSED

COUPLE JAKE X READER

RATING FLIRTY + MILD SMUT

Strawberry and blueberry twist bubblegum.

The taste I was addicted too.

I never much really liked bubblegum when I was younger I found it far to sickly sweet for me, until one day when I was studying on the school yard brick wall.

I suddenly couldn't get enough of the stuff.

Since I was a little kid I kinda had a crush on a girl named y/n, she wasn't really a popular girl exactly. I guess he was within her crowd she was kinda what I would call an... alternative kinda girl.

I spend a lot of time with her growing up which honestly likely didn't much help my crush on her.

And one thing I always known about her was,

Bubblegum.

She used to get some change every week for walking her family dog and every penny of it would go into the tall red bubblegum ball machine outside the post office.

When we where little I used to have to get on my hands and knees and she stood on my back in order to reach to put in her pennies. She would fill it her little bag with bubblegum balls and we would run off to the park every Saturday afternoon.

The smell of those cheap gumballs makes me think of her a little as he bag always had the sticky sweet scent and it too was always on her as she was almost always chewing on bubblegum.

The kids at school used to call her violet after the girl in Willy Wonka.

But she never minded about everyone else much she just hung around with me.

The more I grew to like her the more I grew to associate bubblegum with her. The smell of it the colours they always made me think of her, Whenever I saw red and blue side by side I'd think of y/n and her bubblegum balls.

By the time we got to secondary school I was infatuated with her, and at the same time the shops starting selling

New!! Strawberry and blueberry bubblegum in strips.

The little shop on the corner used to sell a pack of twenty for 99p, and of course this was y/n's favorite flavor, and it was about two weeks out from her birthday. So I went around our estate and cut grass, walked dogs, babysat anything I could to earn some money and that when her birthday came I could give her a whole box filled the the bubblegum strips and of course the balls too. I remember how happy she was, she gave me a huge cuddle I don't think I had ever seen her so happy.

My crush on her only got worse and my addiction to that bubblegum smell became worse, it got to a point I bought a pack and kept it in a little Tupperware box just got to smell when I missed her. And I May have used it sometimes when I really really 'missed her', that smell made me think about her which sometimes wasn't great because if I walked past it in the shop I could smell it and it would almost give me a Bonner. Which wasn't helped by an announcement when we where just heading into our options year that Christmas -

New!! Strawberry and blueberry bubblegum shower gel, shampoo and body stray.

Company's hate teenage boys with hormones don't they. Because of course she came to school everyday fucking day smelling like a bubblegum factory!!

From her mouth, her hair, her body, everywhere was the smell of sugar, artificial strawberry and strong blueberry bubblegum.

And I was addicted to it.

Because whenever I smelt it, I thought of y/n.

I even bought a tin of the body spray to spray on my pillow so I could cuddle it and to help when I'm... All alone.

I had been trying so often to try and te her how I felt about her but I always got to shy, until her birthday rolled around again and just as it did almost like clockwork I saw something in a little discount store

New!! Strawberry and blueberry bubblegum lipgloss/balm

So of course what did she get for her birthday everything and anything strawberry and blueberry bubblegum from everyone even her family.

The lipgloss became what she wore every single day it tinting her lips a light purple with a tiny bit of glitter to it, it only made me want to kiss her even more.

My crush only continued to get worse until one day I was studying on the yard sitting on the brick wall with y/n beside me reading the maze runner book even if I couldn't much focus on anything but her, she of course was chewing her bubblegum often blowing little bubbles, the sweet sugar scent in her soft beautiful hair, the overwhelming artificial strawberry smell on her skin, that light purple softly resting on her lips. She blew her last bubble before taking the old gum out her mouth wrapping it in the wrapper and throwing it in the bin beside us returning to her book, but she noticed I had been watching her do all that and she looked at me a little puzzled.

I looked at those sweet lips I had been wanting to kiss for so long, and I couldn't help it, I moved forward pressing my lips to her own her scent overwhelmed me the taste of that bubblegum gloss on her lips she kissed back moving her lips against mine I did it too our lips kissing over and over lightly clacking with each kiss till she pulled away leaving me in a dream like state

"Ooohh Jake, what was all that about?" She asks

"I just uhh... I uhhh... I really wanted to see what your lipgloss tasted like" I smiled and she laughed as the bell went so she kissed my cheek and went off to her class.

After that day I became even more addicted to that taste, I would chew the gum while I was jerking off just because it felt and tasted like I was making out with y/n, and eventually after alot of convincing and little dates, she became my girlfriend.

I stopped jerking off to much as I had her to kiss me now even if I admit I may have kept a couple packets and maybe a body wash so I could smell it in the shower and chew the gum like I was making out with her for you know... In shower... Reasons.

She sat on my bed with me the two of us rather seriously kissing that sweet sugar taste and smell all over her as usual my hands often exploring her a little but she always did it to me too, my hands often moving her butt of her boobs in our kisses till she pulled away

"Ooh Jake what's that poking me?" She asks

"Ohh uh sorry" I blushed but she smiled giving me a kiss

"It's okay, so did you wanna...do anything?" She smirked

"Can we uhh... Maybe make out?' I suggest

"Aww course can" she giggled going to kiss me but I stopped her

"Could you uhh Maybe do something for me?" I asked her

"Well alright" she smiled "what is it Jake?"

"Can uhh before we make out? Can you maybe have some bubblegum?"

"Uhhhhhh why?" She asked a little confused

"It's uhh well... Look y/n I've liked you since we where little kids, and something that always makes me think about you is that strawberry and blueberry bubblegum, and I like tasting it when I kiss you" I explained

"Well okay" she smiled "maybe once. Done with my gum, we could do something more then make out?" She asks

"Uhhh...okay" I blushed very excited

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 62)

"📷"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@kellysimagines

@crystalbaby12

@queenieofthesouth

Colson's shocked when he walks into their rented bedroom. Luna's waiting for him at the door. Standing in all black but barely clothed. She has on little lace gloves, panties, a garter belt with thigh highs and heels. There's a leather riding crop pressed against the back of her thighs, just below her ass. Hair dangling down her back.

Colson stops dead in his tracks. "FUCK, Loons." Is all he can utter.

Luna bites her bottom lip, tilting her head slightly as a smile creeps onto her face. Stalking up to him, she swings the riding crop in a circle at her side. Close to him, she runs the leather down his cheek, making his dick grow hard.

"You seem to think I've been bad. What are you gonna do about it?" She asks him huskily, dragging the crop down his bare chest.

He firmly grabs the wrist of the gloved hand holding the toy. Staring into her eyes, they're daring each other. The energy from their earlier fight still simmering. He takes the crop in his hand before gripping her face with both hands. Kissing her angrily, he spins her around forcefully. Holding on to one hip, he uses the hand with the crop to bend her roughly over the bed.

Colson drags the stiff leather down her spine. Giving her goosebumps in anticipation of what's next. Reaching her cheeks, he spanks the top of her left one hard. Making Luna jump and yelp. She throws a coy look over her shoulder. It's his go ahead. Gripping her hair in his hand, he positions himself.

"STOP." ❗SLAP❗The crop whips against her ass cheeks.

"LETTING." ❗SLAP❗The sleek leather stick whizzes through the air.

"DUDES." ❗SLAP❗

"FALL." ❗SLAP❗"Ahhnhh!" Luna slightly whimpers. Pain is pleasure. It always has been for her.

He gives her three quick strikes.

"IN" ❗SLAP❗

"FUCKING" ❗SLAP❗

"LOVE!" ❗SLAP❗

Luna arches her back and buries her face in the covers preparing herself for what's to come.

"WITH." ❗SLAP❗

"YOU!" ❗SLAP❗ Pulling her face out of the the blanket on the last on, a loud moan escapes from Luna.

"FUCK." She breathes out heavily.

Colson likes using the riding crop. He loves that hate - fucking turns Luna on.

Standing her up sharply, he spins her around again, pushing her back onto the bed aggressively. He grabs her thighs, pulling her until her ass is to the edge. He watches her twitch as he drags the warm leather around her breasts and nipples. Down to her pussy.

Swatting at her panties. "Take em off." Colson directs Luna. She listens. Unsnapping her garter belt from her thigh highs and slipping them off.

Colson turns the crop wide and drags it from the bottom of her bare pussy to the top. Swatting her again. Moaning, she scootches back with that one.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" He grabs her, pulling her back down the bed to where he wants her.

Dropping his pants and briefs, Colson climbs on top of Luna. She throws her legs around him as he pushes himself into her. He grips her chin, covering her moans with his mouth. He kisses her with his wrath.

Colson fucks Luna hard and fierce. One hand around her throat, the other pulling at her hair. Loving every minute of it, she moves with his rhythm. Luna grips his ass, pushing him deeper inside of her. The lace is soft on his skin. The spikes of her heels digging into the backs of his thighs as she fucks him back. The contrast in feeling making him thrust into her harder.

Bucking against each other, breathing heavy, Colson yanks Luna's neck to the side. "I gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else!" He declares angrily before sinking his teeth into her neck. Slamming his cock into her.

Luna's walls clench around Colson's huge cock. She grips his hair and bucks as she cums on him. Calling out, "Fuuuckkk Bunny!!"

Feeling her tighten and cum, he blows with her. Grunting her name.

Throwing himself on the bed beside her. Breathing heavy he looks over at her. "Do I have to murder every fucking dude?" He looks at her, still annoyed.

Looking over at him unamused, she dryly says "Not if you keep murdering this pussy, you don't."

This breaks him. Laughing hard and pulling her on top of him, he kisses her telling her she's a cunt. To this she agrees with a smirk and kisses back as she straddles him.

Luna rests her face on Colson's bare chest. He pulls her up by the hair to look at her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I'm serious, Kitten. I'll fuck some shit up over you." He says, eyes flashing at the thought of her with someone else.

Knowing he will, Luna's face softens. "Relax Killer." She sighs. He loosens his grip as she leans down to kiss him. Sitting up on him, she pulls on her chain. "Yours." She looks at him knowingly as she says it before kissing him again.

She lays her face back down onto his chest. They're quiet as he strokes her hair. "Where'd you get the toy?" He finally asks.

Popping back up, she grins "I ordered it earlier in the week and had it shipped to my grandmom's." Pleased with herself, she wiggles her body as she tells him. Shaking his head, chuckling at her, he pulls her back down to him.

"How's your ass?" He asks while rubbing it and kissing her head.

"It's sore." She tells him in a tiny voice.

He chuckles and kisses her again.

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

The next morning everyone has breakfast together. Colson, Luna and Casie make bacon, blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs with coffee and juice. Luna having to reassure Casie multiple times that she's okay around the killer blueberries to Colson's laughter. Breakfast is good, everyone talking, laughing, reaching for food. The anticipation of tonight dripping in the air.

Colson and Luna are good. Laughing, kissing and cutting it up during breakfast. They sit for a bit still bullshitting before everyone helps to clean up.

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

Casie watches TV while Luna gets dressed. They're going shopping with Ashleigh for a little bit.

Luna and Colson bang it out in the shower. The morning's sex being kinder than last night's.

Getting high together. Checking out each other's new tattoo's healing process. Colson patches Luna's shoulder.

Colson goes to help Casie get dressed as Luna pops two 30s and burns while she dresses herself in a striped tank and jeans. She pulls her hair up and throws on a purple lip with some jewelry.

Luna, Ashleigh and Casie head out into The City, leaving the boys behind. They're gonna float around with the main objective being cool shades for Casie.

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

It breaks on RadarOnline first. A picture of a grinning Tommy and an almost unrecognizable Luna. The story that runs with it says:

That Brooklyn Bitch is back in town..... But not with her boyfriend. The NY native was spotted out late Thursday night in Queens with an unidentified male companion. We gotta say from the looks of this picture, this must be a real Nightmare for MGK. The two were reported to be dating early last month. The rapper even posting a picture of the two of them together to his Instagram earlier this week. Normally keeping a very low profile, That Brooklyn Bitch has had a strong presence both on the pop charts and online since hooking up him, being featured all over Machine Gun Kelly's Instagram stories. It's rumored the song THAT Type is a response to BeBe Rexha's Break Up with Your Girlfriend. It's not a stretch, with That Brooklyn Bitch calling out Rexha by name in the song. So, with all that territory staking, could it be possible that the songstress, who's confirmed to be performing on SNL this week with Halsey, could be up to some Bad Things while back in The Big Apple?

Colson sees it before Luna and he's fucking pissed.

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

Luna, Casie and Ashleigh pop in and out of different vintage shops, walking through Bed-Stuy.

They try on different sunglasses, shoes and clothes, laughing and having fun. Luna grabbing Colson a 40oz to Freedom Sublime Tshirt. AND finding a FANTASTIC pair of heavy, metal, gold toned, cat eyed sunglasses.

"I LOVE THEM!!!" The little girl squeals while putting them on after Luna presents them to her.

With their mission complete, they stop to grab sodas and pretzels before heading back to the brownstone.

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

Colson is at the brownstone SNAPPING.

"I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE HER!!" He shouts, pacing around the unfamiliar kitchen. "SHE FUCKING LIED TO ME!!"

A million irrational thoughts are zipping through his head. "She's such a fucking liar... I bet she fucked him... I'm gonna fucking kill em both..."

"Where'd she say she was?" Slim asks him. He stops.

"With fucking him." Colson glares at his friend. "Imma fucking kill him, Slim."

Rook interrupts. "Wait, she told you she was with him?" He asks.

"Yeah, she said she ran into him at a show. DOES THAT LOOK LIKE A FUCKING RUN IN!?!" He shouts, shoving his phone towards Rook.

Rook takes it and studies it. "It looks like it could be anything, honestly." He says, defending Luna.

The all have the picture up on their phones, looking at it.

"That mothafucka is TOO happy." Slim states his opinion.

"RIGHT!!" Colson's back to pacing and shouting.

"I don't know, Kells. She's not even really touching...." Benny agrees with Rook.

"HE'S GRABBING HER ASS!!! HIS HANDS ARE ON HER FUCKING ASS!!" Colson interrupts him, still shouting. Rage, radiating out of him.

"I am going to kill this motherfucker." The image of the grinning idiot touching his girl seared into his brain. Knowing what the dude wanted from her. Worried as fuck she might have gave it to him.

They're all quiet from Colson's outburst.

Baze finally breaks the silence. "I think you should ask Luna, Kells. That picture could really go either way.

Before Colson can respond they hear the door open. "We're baaaaack!!!" Casie calls out. Benny jumps up to intercept her as Colson squares up to rip Luna's head off.

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

Luna doesn't think anything when Benny comes up to them, asking Casie to go to the store with him. She rounds the corner with Ashleigh, bags in hand.

"Hey Bunny..." She greets Colson.

He comes marching acrossed the kitchen and shoves his phone in her face.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!!" Colson shouts at Luna, taking her and Ashleigh by surprise.

Taking his phone, Luna reels back to see what she's looking at. Once she gets a good look, she starts tio laugh. Dropping her bags to place that hand over her face.

"THAT is fucking great!!" She laughs through her hand.

"Oooohhhh... You gotta be fucking shitting me." She thinks. This is FUCKING insane.... They're following me now???" Always amazed at the irony of her luck in this universe, she has to laugh at this or she's gonna freak the fuck out. She feels so invaded. With a valid ripple of fear running through her.

Handing his phone back to him, she grabs a beer from the fridge. Colson doesn't know what to say.

Cracking it, she looks directly at Colson. Still lightly laughing, she says to him, shaking her head.

"Of all the years I've been around, all fucking shit I've pulled, I've never gotten popped and now all of a sudden I'm fucking front page news."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Colson demands from her.

He doesn't know what to think about her response.

Swigging the beer, she's trying not to get angry. She can feel tears welling in her eyes.

"What am I talking about??? It seems I have strangers fucking stalking me now. Which, that's a problem for my life, Colson. We've talked about this before. I have too much important, HIGHLY ILLEGAL shit going on for ANYONE to be following me. Fuck... You know this. Not to mention, as a photographer, it's not even a good angle. You can't even see my face. In a court of law, you couldn't prove that shit is me. Not that I'm denying it is. But, it's still a shitty shot. You're mad at shitty shot.

Luna swings her beer, trying to keep it together. She knows she controlled herself last night and she'll be damned if some photo is going to suggest otherwise. That's not even her main concern. Fuck Tommy. Luna's worried about her privacy.

"Besides, what the FUCK do you think is going on in that picture?" She asks Colson, cocking her head.

"I think his hands are on your FUCKING ASS." He states angrily.

"Because he picked me up to fucking hug me, Asshole." Luna spits out at him. She grabs his phone. "Which he didn't even get a chance to do because if you fucking look at it I'm in the middle of pushing myself AWAY from him." She points at the picture.

Remembering that moment exactly.

Colson looks at it, then looks at her. Then back at it. Then back at her. Then back at it.

His brain is dueling over whether to believe her or not. Not hearing any of her worries.

"You're unbelievable." Luna laughs at him before she takes another swig.

"What am I supposed to think, you still fucked him." He barks at her.

Now she's pissed. The room is silent. Everyone watching them.

"SIX FUCKING YEARS AGO!!! AND HE'S ONE OF MY FOUR TO YOUR FOUR THOUSAND, YOU FUCKING WHORE FROM MCWHORE ISLAND!!!" Luna's screaming now. "I TOLD YOU EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED THAT NIGHT!! I DIDN'T SIDE STEP YOU FOR SHIT!!"

"YOU FUCKING KISSED HIM!!"

They're yelling at each other venomously.

"YEAH, GOODBYE!! YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!!"

Names are flying out of her mouth.

"WHICH I FUCKING TOLD YOU, NOT THAT STUPID FUCKING PICTURE!!!"

She makes a point.

"HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO TRUST YOU WHEN YOU RAN SHIT UNNOTICED FOR A FUCKING YEAR!?!!" The words explode out of Colson's mouth.

"There it is. His WHOLE problem." She realizes. "This hypocritical ass motherfucker."

Luna doesn't scream back. She stares at Colson and in a low, direct tone says.

"So wait, let's make this clear. You're judging me on something I was honest with YOU about from a past relationship. Yet. You've been known to fuck anything that moves. Not me."

Luna throws her hands up at Colson like What The Fuck while shaking her head.

"You're worried about a fucking bum ass picture. Not that I could now get hemmed up and catch LIFE because being your girlfriend exposes me in a dangerous way." She sucks her teeth and shakes her head in disgust. "FUCK you, DUDE."

Luna walks out of the kitchen incredibly hurt.

Colson puts his head in his hands. "What the fuck did I just say to her?" Words and thoughts were flying so rapidly, he's not sure what came out and what stayed in his head.

The room is quiet until Luna walks back in with her bags.

"You need to be at 30Rock by 9P." She tells the room before walking out of the brownstone.

Once the door closes, Ashleigh grabs Colson's phone. She looks at what their arguing over. The article is more damaging then the picture.

"Fucken' up, Kells." She tells him shaking her head as she walks upstairs.

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

To be continued....

[mari-gt]

Knowing Steve (Strawberry Shortcake part 2)

Hii there! How's it going? Good, very good. I'm doing great either! So another story for another day, wow!

Enjoy it

_________________________________________

After all the night traveling, the girls were getting more tired and suspicious about how close the house of Steve was, because Strawberry was saying everytime that they were closer each moment that has passed.

"How long now Strawberry?" "We are tired." Plum Pudding and Sour Grape complained for Strawberry while they were lunching.

"Today we'll find him." Strawberry said excited for her friends. "You gonna like him, he's so gentle and nice."

"You saying like this looks like you're in love with him" Raspberry joked and Strawberry get red as a tomato.

"I'm n-not in love with h-him! That would be impossible, I j-just like him that's all." She still red and stammering embarrassed, thinking about the possibility on a relationship with Steve, but like she said it would be impossible.

The girls laughed at her and joked even more until Sweet Grape get up from where she was sitting.

"Okay guys give me your dishes and let's keep going." Sweet getting the dishes for wash in her food truck, and Sour putting the leftovers in some cartons. They went in the cars and continue the ride.

******

In the next hour, Strawberry flagged for the others stop, she left the car and look around.

"What is it Strawberry?" Lemon looking around to see if she finds whatever Strawberry is looking.

"He was supposed to be here by now..." Strawberry said distracted. "I'll text him, just wait a sec."

She took her phone and text him.

'Where are you? We already here!'

'i'm looking for you, but you're so tiny, haha!'

'Shut up and come here already!'

Strawberry look around and saw a old piece of wood addle near to them.

'we are near a piece of wood addle, can you find it?

'hmmmm I guess... Wait a minute ok?'

'okay...'

She turn off her phone and called for the others. They went through the wood and waited there.

"Finally we'll find somewhere warm and comfortable to stay and sleep! And finally we'll know Steve that Strawberry's love hahaha!" Cherry Jam joked, the girls laughed and agreed about the warm place, they just couldn't wait. Strawberry ignoring the jokes start speaking.

"Alright guys I just wanted you to know that Steve is... a different person." She start hesitantly and was interrupted by Apple Dumpling.

"Like what? A lonely guy?"

"No...?"

"A guy who talks with plants?"

"No."

"A boy who-"

"Just let me finish!" Strawberry yelled for her. "He's just humm.... You know tall, like... Really really tall." She looked to her friends for see if they were understanding.

In the moment Blueberry was starting to ask what Strawberry meant, they heard a loud noise and the ground start trembling. They were scared but not Strawberry, after a second a giant feet appeared next to the wood they were under it.

"Strawberry are you here!?" The loud voice called after her and she start running for it. But she was stopped by a hand.

"Strawberry no don't go there!" Orange pushed her worried about the giant near of them.

"Strawberry?!" The voice called again.

"Don't worry guys it's just him!!" Strawberry let go her hand from Orange and ran again towards the voice.

"I'm here! Hi Steve!" She yelled to her giant friend that get surprised after hearing her.

"Strawberry!" He looked down and kneel with his hands coming to pick her up. When he did this she got a little squeaky, but she wasn't afraid, just forget the sensation.

"Long time no see short stack." He hugged her pressing in his chest, but not so strong for not hurt her.

"I know, I know, you can stop now! Haha"

"Ops sorry, did I hurt you?" He said holding her doing a shell shape with the hands.

"No I'm fine! Just wanna see you're giant face!" She moved away from his chest, looking up and holding the thumb of Steve.

"hah okay." They laugh together ending the longing, so he look down and saw more tiny girls hiding in the wood.

"So this are your friends Starwberry?" He asked curious.

"Yes! Steve this is my friends and girls this Steve!" Strawberry "present" each other.

"Hi guys!" Steve waved his hand that wasn't holding Strawberry anymore and did a sign for they come closer, but they hide under the wood again.

"You don't have to worry, I won't hurt you." He said softly, but it didn't change anything, they were still there.

"Let me down please, I'll talk with them." Strawberry asked and was put down. She went inside the addle wood again to talk with the girls.

"You don't have to be afraid of him, he won't hurt you or else I wouldn't be here." She said trying to convince them to get out and meet him.

"I won't go there with that giant!" Sweet yelled hiding behind her sister that agreed with her like everyone else.

"But he's nice, okay he's big and all, but he's like a person!" Strawberry tried defend Steve. "Just give him a chance" she extend her hand waiting for someone to grab it.

Anyone did it, they to afraid but Apple was trying to consider the request. She was a adventures girl, she looked for dangerous things all the time and that would be a new adventure for post in her blog. So she, hesitantly, got Starwberry's hand and went with her to know Steve.

He received her with gentle smile, she almost ALMOST lost her fear if it wasn't he's giant size, she stopped walking for a moment but Strawberry looked at her and encourage her.

"it's going to be okay."

"yeah s-sure! Okay, everything will be okay." Apple repeat to her self.

"Hi there little one." Steve asked her softly, giving her a little calm. "What's your name?"

"A-Apple Dumpling." She said nervously.

Steve chuckled and was for start to down his hand for pick her up, but he thought it wouldn't be a good idea, at least not this way.

"Do you mind if I pick you up for know you better?" He smiled for her and she looked at Strawberry that gave a confident nod.

"S-sure." She said hesitantly.

He down his hand in flat for Apple climb easily, and she climbed hesitantly waiting for see if he wasn't to do something, but he was just patiently waiting. So when she finally was up the big hand, Steve start lifting her for eye level. She got out a little squeaky of fear, she looked down worried, she was in tall heights consider by the everyone in her size but not so height like that. She put her hands on the eyes, and Steve chuckled.

"it's everything okay?"

"no!" She yelled with the hands still on the eyes.

"Hey looked at me, it's okay I got you." He said gently, and with time Apple take the hands off of the eyes. And when she looked better the view she got excited.

"Woooow up here is better than ever! Look at there that flower is so beautiful up here!" Apple said so excited that Steve couldn't keep it he laughed out louder making Apple shrugged a bit.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't mean it." He stopped laughing, but seeing her happiness was so cute. And then he feel a smell, an apple smell.

"Hmm wow smell good." Sniffing her head to get that better. Apple start to laughing with the touch of his nose.

"Hahaha yes, it's the apple scent that Lemon did for my hair." She explained for him.

"And that's really good, I would like to say her how talent she is but I guess she's hiding in the wood." He looked down trying to see and encourage the others to come.

"Lemon come on! He's want to know you!" Apple yelled to Lemon, and Strawberry tried to get her hand to get close like she did with Apple.

Lemon was starting to get a few steps out of the woods after seeing how Apple was getting fun the giant but when he mentioned her she went back to the wood. Strawberry was still waiting for her, but Lemon couldn't go, so Strawberry went close to her for talk.

"It's okay, look how fun and gentle he is." Strawberry said for change her mind of not going there.

After thinking a bit Lemon took Strawberry's hand and walk with her out of the wood.

"Wait we wanna go too!" Plum and Hunckleberry call for them and run for their encounter.

They walk slowly towards Steve and they admired him of how big he was. Steve put Apple on his shoulder and asked again for them if he could pick them up. Hunckleberry was the first.

"So little buddy how's it going?!" Steve asked for the boy.

"I'm great! Wow your so big haha" Hunckleberry said determined and Steve chuckled again.

"Come on, go in my shoulder." Steve put his hand next to the shoulder for him to be with Apple. And Hunckleberry jumped and stayed with Apple.

"Alright! Come up girls." He put his hands down for pick up Plum and Lemon.

Lemon step back afraid but Plum helped her to get encourage. They were picked up to his face level.

"So who's the talent little girl with the delicious scent hair." He smiled for them.

"I-its it's m-me." Lemon said timidly.

"You're really good at this... And you two smell good too." Steve breath in deeply to get the strong smell of lemon and Plum coming from them.

"T-thank you" Lemon thanked him still timidly and hesitantly.

"What about you? What's your name?!" Steve looked the other girl with purple hair.

"I'm Plum Pudding! Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too Plum! Do you mind if I put in my jacket pocket?" He asked hesitantly.

"No we won't mind" Lemon said a little fearless now.

"okay then." He carefully put them in the pocket on his chest and doing it he looked down at Strawberry that was accompanied by the others.

"Ok so who's next." He smiled at them.

After everyone was on his shoulders and pockets, he get their cars and walk for his car.

-----------***----------

[diditonceinadream-blog]

BNHA x BE CROSSOVER

Ch. 3

Rin's Hero Costume, Mk. 1 👇

Alright guys, we get our first look at the ExWire gang in this chapter. I made Bon's personality a bit more out there just because he has a seduction quirk and holds power over everyone else because of it. He's still the same genius, straight-laced guy, and that will show up in later chapters once we spend more time with Rin's friends.

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

Over the days, routines were made. Get up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and head off to school. And every day Yukio insisted on hugging Rin goodbye, while Rin kept trying to punch him for it.

Some of Rin's classmates saw and seemed very confused.

"Hey, Okumura!" Kirishima called him over. He walked to him, Kaminari, Ashido, and Hagakure. "What's up?" He greeted. "Who's the guy that's always hitting on you?" Ashido wondered. "Mina! You can't just blurt things out like that!" Hagakure hissed.

They were cut off by Rin's laugh. "Nah, it's ok. That's my twin. He's got some attachment issues. Guess that's what happens when you've got no one to take care of you but a brother a couple hours older than you, huh?" Rin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Wait, you don't have parents?!" Hagakure exclaimed. Rin shook his head. "Nope! But don't feel bad. It's better this way. Trust me."

"Yeah, no curfew and no rules." Kaminari grinned. Rin sighed. "That would be a lot of fun, but Yukio insisted we needed curfew and rules to keep us safe and under control. We kinda just raised ourselves since no one else could. We had to grow up real quick." Rin shrugged. Kaminari frowned. "Aww, party pooper." He joked. They all laughed.

At that point, class started. They went to their regular classes like English and Math.

§~•~§~•~§

Finally, lunch rolled around. Rin found his brother with his friends and sat with them. He knew Yukio didn't really like anyone but Shiemi.

"Hey Suguro! How're you holding up in the second hero course?" Rin wondered. He groaned. "If fuckin' Monoma doesn't shut his trap about beating Class 1A, I'm gonna bring him to his knees and it's gonna be painful." He growled. Rin laughed. "Shiemi, Shima, what about you guys?"

Shiemi smiled, playing with the little leaf-man she'd made out of seeds and leaves."Oh, things are going well. Everyone is nice. They're kind of noisy though..." She trailed off. "There's this one chick named Hatsume. She keeps hitting on Shiemi, but Shiemi's too oblivious." Shima snickered. They all laughed at the girl's red face. "H-Hey! I don't really know how to handle that stuff!" She cried.

"It's okay, Shiemi. If you find you don't mind Hatsume's presence and don't mind spending time with her, I can help you figure out what to do for a date and what goodies to give her." Shima promised. "Uh, no, I will. I don't trust you and other people's partners." Rin shook his head.

"Oh, so you trust the guy with a seduction quirk, but not me?!" Shima huffed indignantly. "Yes. Because I have total control of the guy with the seduction quirk." Rin answered. Suguro smirked and pulled the fire user into his lap–something he knew would annoy the younger, placing his chin on the boy's shoulder. "What was that about having control over me, blueberry?" He snickered. "Hey! Suguro!" He growled, elevating his body temperature with flames so the boy let go of him. Rin laughed at his friend's grumbling before he spotted Midoriya across the cafeteria watching them curiously. He waved.

The green haired boy blushed at being noticed and then looked down at his food.

"Deku, what's wrong?" Uraraka questioned. Iida looked at him. "Something is bothering you, Midoriya?" He guessed. "Uh...no, it's just...Okumura-kun and his friends. They look so comfortable together." He said wistfully. Just as he said so, the aforementioned people walked up and sat down around the trio. Midoriya wondered how they'd gotten there so fast.

"Hey Midoriya. Whatcha up to?" Rin greeted. The poor boy jumped out of his skin. "Kinda skittish, huh? He's like Shiemi." Izumo commented. The blonde smiled at the green haired boy. "Hello. I'm Moriyama Shiemi. I'm Rin's friend. It's nice to meet you." She introduced. Rin's friends gave their introductions, following her lead.

"And I'm Yukio, Rin's twin." The taller boy sitting on the other side of Iida said. "Hmm, you guys don't really look alike." Hagakure and Ashido had apparently made their way over. "Mina!" Hagakure sounded exasperated. Suguro guessed she just blurted out whatever she was thinking a lot of the time. "That's okay. I wouldn't wanna be a pretty boy like Nii-san." Yukio teased. "Watch it genius, I feed you and you don't know what I put in that food." Rin warned playfully.

"Rin's kinda snappy today, huh Okumura?" Suguro grinned, wrapping his arm tighter around Rin's waist. Ashido squealed. "Is this the guy with the seduction quirk?" She asked.

"Well, nothing escapes you, does it?" Izumo snarked. "Hey," Rin shot a small flame at her arm, where it sizzled on her sleeve. "Be nice. Not everybody is as observant and snobby as you, Eyebrows."

"I told you my name is Kamiki Izumo!"

"Ooh, cat fight." Shima grinned, leaning forward. "Do I look like a girl to you?" Rin turned to the pink haired boy.

"You guys are so mean to Rin." Uraraka giggled. "How is that funny?" Iida questioned. "Nah, s'okay. We know each other well enough to trash talk each other and still be friends. Long as no one steps over the line, we're good. I can call Kamiki a stone cold bitch all I want and she won't do anything cause she knows it's true." Rin brushed it off.

Except right after that, birds started pecking at his head. "Ow, ow, Kamiki, call off the birds!" Rin held his arms up in defense.

Rin heard a familiar laugh and glared at Bakugou from across the room. "Uh oh. I sense a rivalry." Hagakure sang. "I think Bakugou has a three way rivalry with Midoriya, Rin, and Todoroki. That guy's got some serious issues." Ashido added. When the explosive blonde in question turned away, Rin spit a tiny ball of fire and they all watched until it hit it's target: Bakugou's hair. Rin cursed("Ohshit") and ducked behind Suguro. Bakugou turned to glower at Rin and didn't see him, so he immediately got up and ran out of the room, no doubt hunting the boy down.

Rin came back up, grinning. "Nice one, Rin. Now he'll be running in the halls like a maniac until he realizes you're still here and that he just looks like an angry psycho." Shima snickered. "We should refrain from using our quirks out of classes." Konekomeru put in quietly. "Yes, I agree with Miwa-kun." Iida did karate chops in the air with his hands. Rin snorted. "Little too late for that, guys."

The bell rang and the group split, going to their more abnormal courses.

§~•~§~•~§

As they waited for the teacher to arrive, Rin heard running in the hallway and cocked his head to the side in confusion right before All Might burst into the room.

"I HAVE.....COME THROUGH THE DOOR LIKE NORMAL!!!" He yelled. Rin snorted out a laugh. It seemed like he would rather have come in through the window. Some students freaked out and got excited, some students fanboyed(Midoriya), and then some just smiled and laughed.

The Number One Hero posed in front of the class and began talking(well, it was more like shouting....).

"Hero Basic Training-The class that'll put you through all sorts of special training to mold you into heroes!"

He showed them a card. "No time for dallying, today's activity is this! Battle!" He shouted. Rin couldn't help but smile at the man's excitement. He seemed genuinely happy to be here teaching them, whereas Aizawa was more like a teacher that never wanted to be a teacher in the first place, but needed a job and just took what he could get.

Something slid out of the walls, revealing cases with numbers on them. Are those.....?

Rin grinned once All Might announced that these were their hero costumes they'd ordered. They all retrieved their numbers. Everybody cheered and headed to the changing rooms to put on their costumes.

§~•~§~•~§

Rin grinned as he slipped on his gloves and moved to lace his boots up. He went out to meet everyone else. Kirishima was with Kaminari. The redhead had metal all over his body and even across his face and Kirishima just had some kind of device on the side of his head. "Hey Okumura!" He greeted. "So, what's up with your costume? Going for the Assassin's Creed look?" Kaminari teased. Rin grinned. "It's all fire proof and it's easy to move in. Plus, the material guards me from anything like Mina's poison." Rin explained.

"Oh yeah, your quirk. What exactly is your quirk?" Kaminari wondered. "It's fire." Rin held a hand out and a small blue flame appeared, flickering in his palms and on his fingers. "I can breathe it, I can blast it from my hands, I can cover my body in it. My brother and I grew up in a rough neighborhood, so we made sure to keep our quirks trained in case anything happened so I can even control the temperature of my flames too, though the lowest I can get it is about 23°C." Rin answered. "It's so hot it's blue? Interesting!" Kirishima examined he small flame in tins palm.

"Wow, that sounds awesome! I can only do one big blast, but it kinda fries my brain, so...." Kaminari scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"I can harden!" Kirishima shouted excitedly, hardening his arm until it looked like rock. Rin stifled a laugh behind his hand. "I'm pretty sure every guy can do that, Kirishima." He sniggered. "Oi, that's not what I meant!" The redhead complained. Rin and Kaminari laughed, leaning on each other while Kirishima's face turned redder than his hair.

"Alright! Now that you have these costumes, from now on, you are all heroes!" All Might announced. Rin heard footsteps and looked behind him. Midoriya was just arriving from the tunnel behind everybody. Man, this guy is a mess.

Rin had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. The boy's costume was his own signature color, but it was pretty obvious who he modeled it after. Rin looked between Izuku and All Might and he could tell the Number One Hero had noticed. Midoriya, stop trying so hard!

All Might explained how they were going to work in teams and fight each other as heroes against villains.

This is either gonna be insane fun or a complete disaster......

[kurosarium]

Okay, honey, not as kinky as I thought I might be but: Shittykawa, Bedhead, Sugar Baby and Blueberry taking their girl with them to volleyball training and teaching them after the lesson how to hit the ball correctly etc. How would they use the opportunity to get a bit closerrrr to her :333 ? (Like "let me guide your hand") Scenario or hc, I don't care, you're still kami to me.

Alright Lizzard, I actually planned on doing more than just the Oikawa one, but this has already gotten very long so i’ll just leave it be like this? Pls don’t be mad at me! This is the first real scenario I’ve written in years OTL

I’m glad we could settle the girlfirend/crush thing though, or else this would have turned out differently, I guess ?

Oikawa Tooru

Another 10 minutes had passed since you had taken a look at thewatch that hung above the school entrance the last time . Waiting wasdefinitely not a strength of yours. And as you grew more and moreimpatient by the minute you began to regret having agreed to meet upwith Hanamaki and Matsukawa after their volleyball practice. Afteranother five minutes you’ve had enough and grumpily stood up fromthe bench you’ve been sitting on and only then realized that yourbutt had fallen asleep due to the odd position you had been sittingin. With a sigh you adjusted your uniform and headed for the boysgym.

Even from afar you could hear the noise their shoes made on thegym floor. A small smile crept up onto your face as you reached forthe door, opening it in a swift movement. Their coach eyes you for amoment, but says nothing as you walk along the side lines approachingthe bench. He had seen you joking around with Hanamaki quite a fewtimes and thus thought nothing of it if you came to watch thempractice. He didn’t assume that you were one of his overlyobsessed fan girls.

Hanamaki spots you from the corner of his eye and shoots you aquick wave before getting back in the game, most of the others hadnoticed you as well and if they didn’t wave at you they cast you asmile. Your previous grumpiness was ceasing while you were watchingthe team play harmonically.

Unintentionally your eyes fall onto the teams setter and eventhough you had no special attraction to him your eyes were glued tohis figure the entire time. His body language, his facial expression,everything about him was fascinating to you in that moment. The firstfew minutes your staring goes unnoticed, except for the brunet malehimself, and as your eyes lock for a moment he shoots you the mostamazing, if a little cocky, smile. And suddenly all air is knockedout of your lungs and your heart pace radically increases. Youquickly avert your gaze and lower your head, the floor suddenly muchmore interesting than the game that was happening right in front ofyou. ‘why am I so flustered he just smiled at me. Get your shittogether______’ you thought as you felt the heat rising to yourcheeks. It took you a moment to cool down before you felt braveenough to rise your head again, and when your gaze fell upon thefield anew nothing had changed and nobody seemed to have noticed. Thevolleyball team was still in the midst of their practice match andeverybody was evidently giving their best, their teamwork on pointlike it always was. They truly were an admirably team.

As the clock strikes 5pm the practice slowly comes to an end andeverybody gathers to put the equipment back into it’s place. Youlook around and watch as everyone contributes to getting the gym inshape as your eyes fall onto Hanamaki who jogs up to you with anapologetic smile on his face.

“Hey ______. I’m sorry that we have kept you waiting thislong. The wait is almost over though, just hold on a little longer.”He exclaimed rather cheerfully before walking back to Matsukawahelping him carry a post into the tool shed. After everything was putin place the majority of the boys disappeared into the changing room,but one individual stayed back and you only noticed when you saw himapproaching you with long strides, a satisfied grin lingering on hislips.

“What’s good _______? Couldn’t stop staring because of myskills or my looks, huh?” he asks mischievously while sending awink in your direction. His question takes you by surprise and for afew seconds you just blankly stare at him processing what he just hadsaid. For the second time that day you feel the heat soaring up yourcheeks, but try to concentrate on thinking of a clever responseinstead. “Both. It’s both Oikawa.” you announceconfidently. Said confidence falters momentarily as you realize whatyou just had said. ‘oh shit this must have sounded like aconfession. What is he going to think now.’ But there was nopoint in denying it, the fellow 3rd year sure was a handsome youngman, so why not be honest. To your surprise the setter seemsgenuinely astonished by your response, so it takes him a few secondsto react appropriately. Yet, the smirk lingering on his lips remainsunaltered, and it grows instead, until he’s grinning from ear toear like the cheshire cat himself. The next moment a rich laugh fillsthe air, leaving you dumbfounded and flustered all together. “Iappreciate your straightforwardness ______. I really do! You’re socute… Anyway, the others aren’t back yet, would you like me toshow you how to toss a ball in the meantime ? Hanamaki and Matsukawaalways take the longest to finish up anyway.” he proposes, stillsmiling at you. Slowly but surely you grew a little uncomfortable,his smile was pretty fur sure, but you couldn’t tell if it wasgenuine or not. Your thoughts wander to the offer he made you, andknowing that you still had to wait plenty of minutes for your friendsto return it was worth to give it a try. “Alright, sounds goodto me.” you beam gleefully at the team captain. He nodsapprovingly, but his features become a little more serious as heturns his back to you, making his way towards the tool shed where theballs were stored. He takes a few moments and looks at every ballindividually before he decides on one, turning back around you noticethat his smile has changed, it seemed gentler and more genuine now.Approaching your figure, he motions with a nod of his head for you toget into the middle of the field. “Here take the ball, I’ll showyou how to toss.” You nod, seeing a faint blush appearing on hischeeks as your hands touched when handed you over the ball. Stillstruggling with his crumbling confidence he places himself behind youand gets a hold of your arms, raising them slightly above your head. “Splendid. Now bend your knees a little and lean a tiny bitforward….. There you go, like a real pro!” In the process ofguiding your every move you feel his chest press against your backand all of a sudden his face was much closer, his breath lightlygrazing your neck. With your cheeks growing hotter by the second youavert your gaze to the ground and try to get a hold of yourself,internally screaming. ‘Oh my god why am I getting thisflustered’ Slightly tilting your head back to get a glimpse ofthe brunet male, you abruptly stop in your tracks due to your faceonly millimeters away from his. And in this very moment your mouthgoes dry and you feel the heat skyrocketing into your face just asyou thought you had overcome your previous awkwardness. Staring amorously at him you take in each and every of his beautiful features. His breathtaking chocolate eyes, his slightly parted, pliant looking lips, his fragrant dark locks, everything about him was amazing to say the least. You felt like you were under a witch’s spell. Your facialexpression must have looked hilarious to him, because Oikawa broke out intoa fit of giggles, despite the lasting closeness, which only caused the color of your face to deepen.“Don’t laugh at m….” it only came out instutters, but you tried your best to keep a serious facenevertheless. Still not moving an inch away from you, yet anothergrin appears on the setters handsome face as he finally lets go ofyour hands and rises into an upright position, causing you to dropthe ball. He places both of his hands on your shoulders and gives youa delighted look. “You are just so freaking adorable, you knowthat? All the more when you’re flustered. Why don’t we-” “Oi,Oikawa what are you doing with the innocent girl!?” declaresHanamaki in a loud and humored tone. He and Matsukawa try to hold intheir snickering as they approach the two of you standing in themiddle of the court.

A relieved sigh escapes your lips, hoping that the arrival of yourfriends would lessen the embarrassment you were experiencing. Oikawashands retract from your shoulders as he turns his whole body to facehis team mates, a distressed expression playing on his face. “Areyou guys for real? Can’t you see that we had something going onhere? Hanamaki? Matsukawa? Why you gotta cockblock me like that?!”he whines in a high pitched voice. “What? cockblocking? Us? Oh comeon as if anything would have happened!” counters Matsukawa whilebreaking out in a fit of laughter. In the meantime you were observing their comical conversation, you sneakily scurry towardsyour two friends, halfheartedly hiding behind Hanamaki stillstruggling to fully calm your nerves. ‘maybe, just maybe I mayhave a teeny-weeny crush on him.’

Oikawa lifts his hands in defeat “Okay okay, you got me there.Next time I’ll be more subtle about getting closer to my crush.”he exclaims, placing emphasis on the last bit of his sentence. “IAM YOUR WHAT!?” you squawk in sheer astonishment. Matsukawa andHanamaki exchange smug looks before bumping fists and cracking uponce again. “You owe me 50 bucks Hanamaki! “ declares Matsukawain the midst of his laughter. The light haired wing spiker’slaughter died down as he shot his companion a playful glare. You onthe other hand were speechless to what has been revealed to you.Completely ignoring Oikawa you turn to your friends with bewildermentwritten all over your face. “So you not only didn’t tell me,but bet on it?! WHAT KIND OF FRIENDS ARE YOU!”

“Good one’s? I mean, we weren’t entirely sure if he actuallyhad thing for you so we wanted him to tell you personally, isn’tthat pretty sweet of us _____ ?” responds the smaller male with asly grin placed on his lips.

“AEHEM! I’m still here too you doofuses! So ______ how aboutwe go on a date this evening ? It’s my treat.” suggests theOikawa, now looking more innocent than ever while smiling gently atyou.

Cheeks still warm and red you ponder. A date with Aoba Johsai’svolleyball club captain didn’t sound so bad after all. You took adeep breath to reply in a sickly-sweet voice. “Sure why-”“ No. No no no. Not today Oikawa. ______  has alreadysomething planned with us, her best friends. Try itanother time mate.” jeers the dark haired middle blocker at hiscaptain. That being said, the both of them place a hand on your backand nudge you in the direction of the exit, making you unwillinglyfollow them. You turn your head back to a dumbfounded Oikawa who juststood in the middle of the gym watching you being kidnapped by hisown teammates, not believing how cruel they were being. “I’mso sorry Oikawa, I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” youannounce apologetically getting one last brief glimpse on the sulkingmale before exiting the gym.

With his head hanging low, Oikawa lingers a little longer on thefield, a mischievous grin creeping up onto his lips.

“You’re so gonna pay for this, Hanamaki, Matsukawa. Just youwait….”

[bruciemilf]

I so desperately crave a fic where Bruce forgot all about the interview he scheduled with Clark. With this portrayal specifically

He's swallowed up by that ginormous red hoodie Jason always forgets at the manor.

It's got a soft undertone of beer and pizza clinging to it, and knowing Jay, the chances of that changing are close to none. It's Bruce's favourite thing to wear.

Below that, Dick's sweatpants have to be snaked tight around his waist. He's wearing Tim's ridiculously soft socks, Batman themed as well, a flock of bats starting from his calf and gathering into his famous cowl on top of his foot.

On his hands, he's sporting two bracelets that Damian and Cassandra asked him to help craft. He accepted, of course, because his little Damian looked astray, his eyebrows down and eyes worried.

They were both terrible at it. Cassandra had a great time. And Bruce's dark green and sunshine gold bracelets pleased Damian greatly.

But he had no time to shower that morning; His ribs were moaning still, every step he took feeling like Bane's brutal, sledgehammer punches, hitting him right in the gut.

And Dick stole all his conditioner, and Steph smuggled his skincare products, exfoliants, bath salts, and everything she could get her grabby little hands on, and gone she was. Tiny fingers, big damage.

But that was fine; He didn't expect anyone today. He'll just scarf some blueberries and yoghurt and gulp down four espressos before burying his nose in Jim's earliest case.

That's what he thought

Before modern day Adonis suddenly emerged I his living room.

This man, he's...He's... he's beauty. That's all Bruce can muster in his flustered mind, brain itself blushing, cheeks hot and soaring with a fierce flush. Which was impossible to miss with his paleness. God.

There you are! Got me scared for a moment there," oh no. He makes deep voices sound cute. Those pearly whites had no mercy on Bruce, neither did that boyish grin, glowing silver and warm. " Thought I'd fall through a secret door and straight to a shark tank. "

Say something. Say something funny, come on, he's joking with you.

" ... Why are you In my house?"

Fuck.

This man, - Clark, Bruce knows who he is. Out of all the bad things that had to happen today, being surprised by his favorite journalist just had to be one of them, - blinks, some grin cut down, and Bruce curses in his mind.

"Um. Your father let me in. Did you forget,-"

" I forgot you were coming. I, uh. I," he stuttered; He hasn't stuttered since he was 16, and had to pitch that board meeting to a mile long table of greedy, silver artefacts in suits who wanted to snatch his company. " I, - Coffee. You want...Coffee?"

"...Sure. I'd love some."

Was it just Bruce, or did this report carry a note of amusement in those words? Bruce scrambled for the first cupboard he could see, " NO!"

Clark jumped on his feet, making a dash for him behind the kitchen island. Bruce almost choked, because up close, he could notice the buttons and seams on that baby blue plaid shirt fight for their lives. " What's wrong?!"

" We're out of coffee," he hissed, muttering a ' damn it, Tim, I TOLD you to replace it' but no matter. He had to find Clark something else. " Uh... Water? Juice? Do you like orange juice?"

He could see it, the corners of Clark's lips tugging upwards,

" Orange juice is my favourite drink. But it's fine, really. I'm here to unbury your deepest darkest secrets, not have lunch," he smiled, then, most likely noticing Bruce simply froze in place, he added, " That was a joke!"

Bruce forced a laugh, " Of course. Why would I have something to hide? I have nothing to hide," Very well, that sounded entirely too suspicious. " I mean, not anything illegal. Just... Secrets. The normal amount."

Clark nodded, endlessly patient, this saint of a man, " I've had my share of that. Don't worry, Mr. Wayne."

" Oh, just Bruce. Mr. Wayne was my father...And my grandfather too."

The taller man smiled, " I'm just going to ask you about your involvement in renovating Arkham and maybe Mr. Grayson's podcast, but that's all. I won't try to fish for information. I don't believe in peer pressure and bullying."

" I know," his mouth spoke without him, " I, uh, I know you. Your journalism, I mean! My youngest enjoys your online interviews. We watch you together. I'm a fan of your writing, thought. It's magnificent. "

Even if Clark blushed to be polite and thanked him quietly, Bruce wanted to dive off a building without a grappling hook.

" Uh... Bruce? You're murdering your orange."

True enough. The fruit was entirely empty in his clenched fist, spilling over his hand and pooling on the floor. Bruce cursed. Slamming the sad, deflated remaining on the counter, he simply said, " I'll cut this now."

" Okay." Nodded Clark, clear, perfect blue eyes fixed on Bruce and his hands. Bruce only prays his fingers won't tremble like his heart is.

He stabs the orange.

It squirts all over his hoodie, and Bruce offers no reaction.

It's almost worth it, this pit of mortification slowly, tortuously devouring his body, to see Clark's impressive frame shake with laughter behind his giant hands, goofy glasses crooked on his nose.

" I'm sorry," he sounds as dead as he feels. " The orange has retaliated."

That did it; Clark was full on laughing now. Humiliation burned like liquid fire over Bruce's face.If Dick were here, or Alfred, he'd hide his face into their chests like a shameful child.

But neither are there, so all he can do is slowly place the knife on top of marble, and stand there like a statue.

Coming off his high, Clark watches him closely, a speckle of mirth shining on blue. " You know, you're nothing like I thought you'd be. As much as I enjoy this, you should change."

" I'll try. I don't want to be like this, either."

Clark grinned. " I meant your clothes, Bruce."

" ... Yes. I should. I have a large collection of clean clothes. Because I do my laundry regularly. I know how to do laundry."

Why are you still talking?

Then, gone was that angelic, fond grin from Clark's Greek statue of a face. He smiled hotly, almost...Sultry? At Bruce now. Something saucy. Sweat was sticking to his skin. " Do you want me to pick something for you?"

"... Please?" He squeaked.

Twin steps went inside his bedroom, and they didn't come out for a long time.