#...But I'm taking a break after a solid two weeks of scanning so

[raifuujin]

It’s done!

The directory of all the various DC related books (that I own) has been completed!

Not all of the scans are mine, when other people have shared for the main series and spinoffs over the years, but a very solid chunk are my scans of all the ‘unimportant’ material. (If other people had good scans, I opted to save my own time, even if I could scan my own copies, basically.) And now it’s all fairly organized in one easy access list!

Includes: Conan, Kaito, Yaiba, the novels, movie manga, educational manga, activity books, tokubestuhen, archives, game guides, etc.

Now that it’s caught up, I’ll try to keep it up to date when I get more books in the future.

[keqism]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

⊹ feat. itoshi rin

⊹ premise. in which itoshi rin discovers that life is not like a romance novel.

⊹ cw. GN reader, rin & reader are aged up / 20+, miscommunication

When you get back from your Tuesday evening classes, Itoshi Rin has guilt written all over his face.

On a regular day, you would be greeted at the door by your boyfriend, trapped in his embrace while he presses his face into your neck like a black cat asking for attention. But today, Itoshi Rin is sitting on the ground in front of the couch, furiously avoiding your gaze.

"What are you hiding?" you ask suspiciously, watching his spine visibly stiffen at your question. Crouching down in front of him, you scan the area for answers, searching for anything out of place.

"Nothing," he grumbles, but the way he shifts away from you and picks at the loose thread on his sleeve says otherwise. 

"Rin," you chide, reaching up to tilt his face towards yours. Teal eyes meet your own, and you can practically see the discomfort swimming in his irises. "Did you kick a football into the window? Or did you fight with the old man next door again?" 

"Neither." His answer is curt. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

You stare at your boyfriend, chewing on your bottom lip and contemplating whether or not you should push him further. But Itoshi Rin has the tenacity of a boulder, and no matter how far you push him up a hill, he'll eventually come rolling back down to where you started.

Stubborn bastard. But he's your stubborn bastard.

"Alright," you sigh. And to Rin's relief, the incident is pushed aside.

Or so he thought.

Over the next few days, Itoshi Rin walks on eggshells around you. Whenever you enter the room, he's closing all the tabs on his laptop and slamming the screen shut with a red face. When you crawl into bed at night, he's sliding away from you until he's practically hanging off the edge, the broad plane of his back mocking you. Morning kisses are replaced by cold shoulders, dinner for two slowly becomes dinner for one. The distance between the two of you grows larger; from the top of the hill, you watch his form trudge back down the slope.

"Do you think he's cheating on me?" You glumly ask Bachira during your weekly convenience store visits. Picking at the tab on your empty beer can, you watch as he inhales a two-hundred yen onigiri in one bite. 

"Itoshi Rin? Cheating?" He snorts around a mouthful of rice before taking a sip of his beer. "I'm surprised he was able to pull you—I doubt he's cheating."

"So then what's his problem?" you frown. "He hasn't talked to me in days—he hasn't kissed me in a week. It's like we broke up without actually breaking up." You gasp, sitting up and slamming your hand onto the table. "He still loves me, right?"

A hand flicks the center of your forehead, a sharp pain shooting through your face. "Don't be stupid," Bachira clicks his tongue at you. "That boy is head over heels for you, seriously. I thought football was the only thing he could love, and then he met you. It's sickening."

You slump back into your seat, rubbing your forehead with one hand. "So then what do I do?"

Another onigiri is inhaled. "Just talk to him," he says.

And so after your Tuesday evening class, you corner Rin in the living room again. 

"Rin," you hiss, tossing your backpack onto the floor. He flinches. "Show me what you're hiding under the couch, right now." And Itoshi Rin—with his tenacity of a boulder—must have the IQ of one too, because he has the audacity to deny your claims. 

"I'm not hiding anything," he argues, but you've had enough of his bullshit. Desperate, you slam your backpack into his face and dive for the ground, fingers grazing against something solid. But before you can grab it, Rin is yanking you back by your ankle and pinning you to the ground.

Amidst your scuffle, you glare up at his stupidly beautiful face, struggling against his firm grip for a moment. But then you fall limp and sigh, observing his disheveled appearance and how he avoids your eyes. 

"Rin," you gently cup his face, and teal eyes flit to yours. "I'm not going to judge you, whatever it is. I promise." And as if to emphasize your words, you offer your pinky up to him, your hand hovering in between your bodies.

A moment passes, anxiety flickering through his face. But then he's silently hooking his finger around yours and helping you sit up, the tips of his ears reddening. You glance at your boyfriend once before reaching under the couch.

… Books?

Rin has his face hidden in his hands as you pull book after book out from under the couch. Classic romance stories, love poems, shoujo manga—one might think that your boyfriend stole an entire section of your local library. You study his figure for a moment, at a loss for words.

"Rin? Do you want to explain or…" you trail off, and at the sound of your voice, he burrows further into his arms, curling into himself.

His voice is muffled when he speaks. "I don't know how to love you," he confesses. And when he lifts his face, Itoshi Rin has guilt written all over his face. "I don't know what I'm doing and I feel like I'm the only one blindly navigating this relationship, so I was trying to learn," he blurts out.

You're at his side immediately, hands sliding across his back in an attempt to comfort him. "Rin," you sigh, "look at me." And he obliges, insecurity clouding his eyes. 

"I love you," the confession comes naturally. "And I know you love me too. You don't have to tell me every day, and it doesn't have to be like a romance movie. I love seeing your face when I get home from class. I love it when you share half of your ice cream with me even though you want to eat it all. And I love the fact that we can sit in silence together and feel comfortable. You don't have to change the way you love, Rin. Okay?"

At your words, Rin feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. And then he feels stupid for doubting you, for doubting that he would ever be deserving of your love. Embarrassment smothers him at the sight of your smile, your laughter ringing out as you press your lips against his.

"Stupid bastard," you mutter into the kiss, and he huffs out a laugh in response. "Did you really read Sailor Moon just for me?"

He groans. "Shut up, please."

Although Itoshi Rin may sometimes have the emotional capacity of a boulder, being in his arms feels like home. And even though you may have to chase after his love, you know his heart belongs to you—and yours, to him. 

In your opinion, that's better than any love story out there.

thank you for reading / comments and reblogs are appreciated !

[barkspawn]

Can you do prompt no 8 with Sebastian please🥺

Hello, hello. Remember I said I couldn't decide between two scenarios? It was for this one. So, since you're an anon, I'll post that one just after this one! :)

As long as people are patient, I'll keep taking requests <3

Amelia had picked up painting in the past few months after finding an old easel and some paintings of her grandfather's. Sebastian had moved in a season and a half ago following their wedding. Robin had offered to upgrade the house as a wedding present, though Sebastian admitted to Amelia that his mom wanted to upgrade it 'so we'd be ready for any additions to the family.'

Amelia had picked up painting in the past few months after finding an old easel and some paintings of her grandfather's. Sebastian had moved in a season and a half ago following their wedding. Robin had offered to upgrade the house as a wedding present, though Sebastian admitted to Amelia that his mom wanted to upgrade it 'so we'd be ready for any additions to the family.'

Amelia and Sebastian talked only briefly about having children. He was not-so-subtly anxious that he'd be a bad father, but Amelia saw that he would make an incredible father. 

He started his frog sanctuary and they had adopted another dog from Zuzu. It wasn't the plan but she saw the look in Sebastian's eyes when he saw the little corgi in the window. She had gone back the next day to surprise him. 

If he held as much love for their pets, she knew that he'd be an incredible father. 

She spent the entirety of last Saturday hiding in the community center bouncing between crying and pacing. She wanted desperately to be excited but she was terrified both of how she would be or how Sebastian would react. 

She had gone to Harvey after being nauseated for the entire week. He didn't seem too concerned until his face paled looking at her results. 

Pregnant. 

How was she going to tell Sebastian when he expressed how anxious he was? She stared at the little shapes on the sonogram… and she planned. 

She had four days now to get herself together and actually found herself growing excited to be a mother. She had grown a little ravenous recently, both for food and for her husband. Needless to say, he certainly wasn't complaining. 

She stood out beside the house, facing her fields with the easel and canvas in front of her. She really only had black, white, and gray paints, which was all she needed. She had the tiny, glossy sonogram taped to the front, just below the canvas. 

Sebastian walked out to bring her a glass of iced tea for the third time, planning to attempt a peek at the painting. Before he could, she walked around, taking the glass and standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

"Are you painting the farm?" He smirked, endlessly curious about his wife's newest project. 

"No. And stop guessing!"

"Is it Miso and Loaf?"

She laughed at that, "no, and you know I won't tell, love."

"Is it me?" He smirked, teasing, "am I nude?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "no, love. Though maybe next time."

"Ugh," he groaned, pulling her body against his, "am I even close?"

"Not even a little bit."

He gave a small sigh, glancing behind her and considering sneaking around the cabin to peek. She poked his chest, catching on quickly.

"Don't even think about it, Ainsley. It's a surprise."

He laughed and made a show of rolling his eyes, bending to kiss her forehead, "fine, but I miss you, so take a break soon."

She smiled up at him before turning back to return to the canvas, "I'm actually almost done, so I'll be inside in maybe an hour. Or I'll just call you out to show you."

He shot her an incredulous look before turning back toward the house.

She was right: it only took maybe 25 minutes to finish the painting. She stood, sonogram in hand as she compared the two. Honestly, for not having painted in so long, she was proud. She could see and understand each part of the scan. She gave herself a solid 15 minutes to gather her courage and text him to come outside. 

It felt like seconds after she sent it that he was out the door, rubbing his hands together. 

"Alright, Ainsley," he teased, his smile wide. Thankfully, he didn't see her slip the real sonogram into her pocket, "I actually get to see it now?"

She beamed, knowing she'd never get tired of hearing that. She held her hands out for him to take, which he complied with immediately. 

"Close your eyes," she stopped him directly beside the painting, guiding him in front of it once he closed his eyes, "okay, you can look."

Her voice felt too small and she hoped he didn't notice. Their fingers had laced together, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. He opened his eyes, his thumb stilling as he did so. He stared at it for what felt like hours before she squeezed his hand.

"Seb..?"

"It's an ultrasound, right?"

"Yeah," she paused, "well, a sonogram."

"It's… done really well, love," he tore his eyes from the painting and looked down at her, his eyes undeniably a little panicked, "does… is this… are you saying you want to try to…?"

Her heart sank a little at the low, unsure tone he had. She couldn't stop her eyes from stinging, tears threatening to fall. She wasn't usually someone who cried, so when Sebastian saw that she was tearing up, his panic increased tenfold. She didn't know how to tell him it was her actual sonogram. She didn't know how he didn't know or if he just pretended it was random. 

His eyes widened and he pulled her into a tight hug, "fuck, Amelia, I wasn't saying we can't, I just.. I worry you know?"

Tears had spilled over as he held her, staring at the painting with his head resting on hers, "Yoba, I've never seen you cry and I really don't kn-"

She pulled back and pulled out the actual sonogram, pressing it into his hand. He stared down at it for what felt like hours, focused between the little white blobs and her name at the top. 

Ainsley, Amelia 

Amelia studied his face like there would be a test on his reaction. Finally, his eyes moved from the paper up to her, still wide and definitely panicked. 

"This.. is it real? It's you?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded, all previous confidence she had fading. They just stared at one another for a moment before he looked back down to the sonogram, then up to the painting. 

"You replicated it perfectly," he spoke. His voice was low and a bit shaky. He lifted a shaking hand and pointed to the larger of the white shapes, "is this…?"

"The head."

He exhaled, trailing his hand down to the blob below, "this the body then.."

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his face for a moment. His eyes met hers once more, surprising her with the glaze over his eyes, but more so with the break in his voice, "I'm really gonna be a dad?"

She nodded slowly, startling a bit when he laughed, reaching to wipe tears from her face. He pulled her into a tight embrace before almost immediately pulling back. She could feel his hands shaking as he held her arms  "wait, i.. are you okay? I didn't even ask.."

"You're not upset?" She interjected, her own voice unstable. His hands moved to cup her face in his hands, leaning in so his forehead rested against hers. 

"I'm going to be honest," he sighed, "I'm fucking terrified. But that's not going to change that it's happening. That you and I are having a baby."

It felt weird to say, unusual to even think it was even possible. 

"All I know for certain is how much I love you and the fact that I will love this child more than I even can fathom at this moment."

Amelia couldn't stop herself from kissing him if she tried, his shirt balled up in her fists. He made a surprised noise before melting into the kiss, forcing himself to pull back after a second, much to her dismay. He kept her close as he looked over at the painting again, pointing over to another random white area. 

"What's that?"

She gave a small shrug before he pointed to the other round. White lump before looking at her. The question implied. 

"Seb, Harvey said that.." she paused, trying to find the words that won't freak him out, "he said that it might be another head.." she was practically whispering, "it's too soon to tell. It's pretty much a little bean right now.." 

The sudden flood of emotions left him dizzied. His mouth hung open as he stared. He looked downright terrified. 

"They're beans…?" He asked, knowing the sentence was probably not what she was expecting. 

"I.. yes. Well one app says a bean and another says a grape," she rambled, his eyes falling to her abdomen, still not showing at all, "I'm about nine weeks which would make me due…" she paused, doing quick math in her head, "around your birthday.."

His eyes shot back up to hers, eyebrows raised, as he did some of his own math, his voice quiet, "around the flower dance?"

She paused before laughing, remembering specifically when he was talking about, "maybe? It's not the only time we had sex though around that time.. you moved in like a month and a half before."

He let out a laugh, shaking his head, "well, I'm going to pretend it was then for now," he smiled, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips, "one of the more memorable times, in my opinion."

She laughed, stepping forward to wrap her arms around his waist and slipping her hands into his back pockets, "I'll say. It's not often we fuck while the entire town is around the corner and could catch us at any moment."

He laughed then, bending to steal a kiss and lingering, "maybe it should be more often."

She pulled back and curled her lip, "Seb,  I'm about 75% sure the wizard was watching," she shuddered dramatically, "the way he looked at us when we came back to the dance freaked me out."

Sebastian laughed again, pausing for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice still timid though his face seemed to be filled with adoration, "so we're gonna be parents? You and me?"

She smirked, reaching up to touch his face, "I sure as hell hope it's you and me. Otherwise, it'd be immaculate conceptio-"

He cut her off with another kiss, deepening it for a long moment before pulling back, taking advantage of her surprise, "don't make fun of me. I just found out I'm going to be a father and I'm a little bit of every emotion right now," he stole one more quick kiss, "surprisingly, I'm really excited more than anything."

Her expression faded into a wide smile, "you're not scared anymore?"

"Don't be silly, I'm terrified," he chuckled, slipping his hand in hers before heading toward the front door, "it's getting cold, we need to get you inside."

She bumped his hip with her own, teasing, "oh, you're gonna be that kind of dad," she smirked, "overprotective of me the whole time?"

"Of course I am," he furrowed his brow, opening the door for her before following her inside, "babies are fragile and your body's working overtime to grow a kid."

She held her hands up in surrender, walking backward toward the bedroom before smiling mischievously, teasing, "does this mean I should start calling you daddy?"

He walked past her, slipping his hand into hers, a sour look on his face. 

"Absolutely not."

[sicjimin]

I had an idea the other day, is about a story where Yoongi is a doctor and he meets a pregnant sad boy, he is in the ER in the night shift.

A young guy waiting for him, he is change into a hospital rob, he had arrived after having abdominal discomfort, visible bulging or distended abdomen, and complaining of nausea, he also looks sad, and with some injuries.

Yoongi generally don't care about his patients private life but in this case the guy has something that makes his heart race.

He makes the questions, he began s examining him, and finally he suspects of the problem, but he feels sad, he knows it won't be a happy new for this sad boy.

After some further scanning, blood work, and more kab exams, he had the results, the guy is pregnant.

Hoseok breaks down, he is so sad, he just ended a horrible toxic relationship with his past boyfriends who harm him and hit him, so being pregnant, when he is single, when he is depressed and has no money or no where to go ends up being to much.

Yoongi felts horrible watching the crying young man leave the hospital, looking sad ad devastated, he hopes he sees him again.

After some weeks his wish comes true, when he was taking Holly for a walk, he found someone sleeping in a bench in the park is so late in the night he wonders who could be sleeping there.

But when he hears gags, he goes near and found his patients Hoseok being sick, he seems so sick and thin he is concerned, the guy faints and Yoongi being a doctor himself decides to take the boy to his own apartment.

There he takes care of the the pregnant, guy they began knowing each other better, and Hoseok's regains his health and emotional stability there, his stomach is still little, but he has decided to keep it, so he ask Yoongi his new friend for a room, he founds a job and starts paying Yoongi for the room, they began being roommates, and Yoongi is his doctor, he follows closely his pregnancy.

They began to fall in love without noticing it, one day Hoseok had been pretty sick the morning sickness being rough and devastó, he had two days without solid food, and just on a liquid diet, so Yoongi had stop him from going to work, Yoongi had examine him and give him medicine vitamin and some IV.

Hoseok complains of his stomach hurting too much, Yoongi examines his roommate and founds out Hoseok has stomach bug, so he haves bin treatment and take care of him, but one might when he was making sure the boy was riding his system from the bug, he hears something that would change his fillings.

A small bump sound, finally he can hear.the baby's heart and is the cutest sound ever, from them on he began s listening more Hoseok's abdomen with the pretext of a check up, but he is madly in love with the babies small bumping heart, Hoseok first doesn't suspects anything until, he also begin feeling things for his roommate and doctor, he loves him near him.

One day Hoseok ask Yoongi to check his stomach, but he stop him from placing the stethoscope, he lifts his t-shirt, he is sitting on the kitchen counter after having lost his breakfast just that morning he was trying to eat something.

He guides Yoongi into an embrace, and as Yoongi is smaller, his heads ends up on Hoseok's naked pregnant beautiful stomach, he goes near and with his ear skin to skin on the pregnant surface he could hear the beautiful baby heart a tear rolled down, and Hoseok smile at him.

"Sorry, I began to love them each day more and more, and the father, Oh Hoba forgive me I'm not supposed to fall in love with .y patients, but I'm in love with you"

Hoseok then vegans kissing him softly.

"Me too, at first I didn't want them in me, I hate them, I wanted to get rid of them, but I couldn't I just began loving them seeing my stomach grow with them inside made me feel emotions, and I just loved them so much, and also the cute doctor who help me , my only friend in life who also loves them so much and lives .y tummy.

They end up together, after the baby is grown up, they even get married and Yoongi adopts his son as his own.

The end!

oh anon this is such an incredible idea .. and DOCTOR YOONGIIIII I AM LIVING FOR HIM i havent see any sickfics about doctor yoongi this is so TT AAAAAAA

((i want to write this so bad but if you, anon, allow me to develop this ...? but i also wary because i pictured this as a series, like neighbor yoonmin one, and now i have a hard time keeping my pace in writing .. so ... idk idk TT this one is such a GOODDD idea please someone write thisssssss ))

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 44: January to Early May 1925

Masterlist

Emma, Tom, Ivy and Michael all stay long enough for Marigold's second birthday but the first at Downton and by late January, they're off to Boston while Atticus and Rose leave shortly after.

Emma, three months pregnant, staggers off the ship, one hand clasped to her mouth while the other holds Ivy's hand. Tom follows with Michael and a suitcase.

"Oh, Christ," Emma mutters wincing, now glad to be on solid ground. The cold temporarily distracts her from her nausea. Why did no one tell her winters in Boston are absolutely freezing?!

"Mama not well?" She hears Michael ask.

"She'll be fine," Tom reassures their son, as he places him down and then grips his hand tightly. "Boat was a bit much for her, that's all." He sounds calm but flashes Emma a concerned look to which Emma swallows and tries to give him a reassuring smile.

"Tommy! Tommy Branson!"

Emma looks up, scanning the dock for the owner of the voice and finds a wiry, dark-haired fellow coming bearing down on them, bustling through the crowds and waving heartily, a big, welcoming smile on his face.

"You made it then?" He greets them.

"Aye, we did. It's good to see you, Patrick." Tom says, breaking into an answering smile.

"You too, cousin, you too." Patrick replies, pumping Tom's hand enthusiastically.

Tom gestures to Emma with the suitcase. "This my wife, Emma."

Emma presses on a smile and holds out her hand politely. "How do you do, Cousin Patrick."

Patrick's eyes widen, but he takes her hand and shakes it. "Jaysus, you really married a proper English lady, eh, Tommy? 'How do you do'?"

Emma clenches her jaw, alert to any suggestion that Tom's cousin might be making fun of her even as they'd only just stepped onto American soil.

Patrick looks down smiling at Ivy and Michael, who are staring up at him with wide eyes. "And who do we have here?"

"This is our daughter, Ivy and our son, Michael. Michael, Ivy, this is Cousin Patrick." Tom says, making the introductions.

"Hello." Ivy says while Michael stares on shyly. Emma narrows her eyes at Patrick's raised eyebrows once he hears her daughter's English accent.

"So, where's your luggage?" Patrick asks, peering around. "I'm guessing you didn't come over in steerage with just that one little suitcase you've got there."

"No, we have some trunks." Emma replies shortly. "We were going to come second class, but Robert wouldn't hear of it. It was his parting gift to upgrade us to first."

Patrick snorts. "Very nice too. But then I suppose that's what comes of living with rich aristos. You'll need to go to the luggage collection office then. It's just over there. I'll flag down a taxi while you're sorting it out. I'll see you out front in ten minutes."

With that, Patrick hustles off, leaving them standing on the quayside. Emma watches him go, a sliver of unease pricking at her as she wonders whether they are doing the right thing.

——

They stay with Cousin Patrick, his wife Kathleen and kids Pat Junior, Kathy, Rose, Philip and Bridie for the first few weeks.

After spending the weekend getting used to their new surroundings, Tom is thrown into work as Patrick takes him to see the business. His cousin has a good set-up: a few shiny cars in the showroom and a garage out back with a couple of mechanics labouring under the bonnets of the cars in for repair.

In late January/early February, with Kathleen's help, they found a ground-floor flat available to rent not far from their cousin's house. It is long and thin, with a corridor running the length of it from the front door to the kitchen at the far end. Off the corridor were the parlour, the dining room, a tiny bathroom and two bedrooms, one large enough for a double bed and a wardrobe, the other big enough for two single beds and a few bits of furniture. Outside is a small private garden the children can play in. It was is far cry from the expansive grounds of Downton, but it gives them both a little bit of green space to enjoy.

It takes them a while before everything is settled in, Ivy with her school and Tom settling into his new job. Emma hasn't been able to apply to any nursing jobs, first. It is because they believed at least one parent should be at home, supporting the children as they settle into a new country and since Tom is the one already with a job, it makes sense Emma will take that role. Then, while Emma is only five or six months pregnant, they know hospitals would be reluctant to hire her (yay to female rights that do not exist) unlike Downton where she had been there a good while beforehand.

——

What's interesting about travelling back in time is getting used to the different modes of communication. When you travel to early 20th century Yorkshire, you're faced with writing letters. Emma thankfully didn't have to write any letters at first as everyone she knew was a short walk away or living in the same house as her, so she was not faced with having to write any nor experience how slow it is compared to texting. Then, when in London, Gemma sent her a letter regaling her in life at Downton for those left behind and Emma was faced with the panic of having to write a letter, thankfully they were passed between them quite speedily. Then there was the odd letter she had written to Tom and Gemma when she and Sybil were having their nurse training but both that and London were only temporary. But then she moved to Dublin and the letter quantity increased as well as the time they took and the expense, but it wasn't too bad then she moved to Boston though they had a higher income this time.

They usually send the one letter with little notes for specific members of the house. Emma makes sure to send some to Thomas on the latest drama downstairs (there are murmurings of people possibly being let go and Thomas worries he's on the chopping block) while Tom questions Mary and Robert on how the estate is running (Mallerton, a neighbour ring estate is being sold), Mary has officially taken over Tom's role. Both of them share notes with Edith on what she is doing next for her paper though it seems she's having trouble with the editor and is contemplating what to do with her London flat - whether to lease it out, sell it, or live in it herself. And also, Billy and his struggles to escape the flirtatious nature of his office's new secretary.

Mary's letters are a mixture of news about the family and the business, telling him about George, the estate, the pigs and a couple of Mary's social engagements, plus a brief bitchy moment about Edith.

Mary privately tells Emma a former chambermaid at the Grand Hotel where Mary spent the night with Anthony Gillingham and attempted to blackmail her into giving her money in exchange for her not selling it to the press. Though thankfully it's resolved through Robert paying her off with a smaller amount and getting her to sign a confession of attempted blackmail.

They receive welcome news in the March, the case of the murder of Mr Green has finally come to an end with a woman confessing to his murder. Robert, Cora, Mary and Edith apparently go downstairs to the kitchen to share in the good news with the servants, all sharing a glass of champagne together in celebration. Emma and Tom make their own toast.

——

March 1925

Emma, now five months pregnant, is hurrying along the street from the shops, bags full of groceries. She had paid a local girl to keep an eye on the children but only for a short while and time had run away from her while she'd been getting food. She just gets to the top of her road when she stumbles and drops one of her bags, the insides spilling out.

"For Christ's sake!" She cries.

Before she can begin putting her other bags down to collect the dropped produce, a voice interrupts. "Like some help with that?"

Emma looks up to see a woman not much older than her walking towards her. She recognises her as one of the neighbours, Bridget Rice.

"Oh, no, l-I'm good. Thank you." Emma tries to insist, feeling embarrassed.

"Now just you never mind." She bends down and collects it all back into the bag. "Here." She doesn't hand it back to Emma though, continuing to hold it.

"Thank you." Emma mumbles.

"I remember when I was having my first." Mrs Rice says. "My back ached something fierce, and that handsome, but lazy sack of bones I call a husband never did lift a finger."

Emma frowns. "Oh, well my husband isn't like that."

"Oh, you lucky thing." Mrs Rice remarks. "Your husband is a strange one, so I suppose that makes sense."

Emma narrows her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mrs Rice shrugs causing Drew's to pool in Emma's stomach. "Well, it's just I thought he was a republican, fighting for Ireland's freedom like the rest of us but instead he's married you and lived with an English Earl."

"He still believes in Ireland's freedom. We both do." Emma retorts.

"Sure, you do." Mrs Rice says, looking her up and down doubtfully. Emma feels like she is being patronised.

"Well," Emma utters sharply, pulling the bag from Mrs Rice's hand, "thank you for your help, Mrs Rice, but I must get back to the children."

"Of course." And she's not happy with that smile.

——

Early April 1925

Emma emerges from the house into the garden to call in the children to find Ivy pulling Michael along with a string attached to his wrist. Okay...

"What are you doing?" Emma asks as she hurries over to them as best she can with her six-month stomach. The children stop, turning to her with a grin.

"Having our own hunting party, Mama!" Ivy declares. "Just like Auntie Mary and Donk!"

"I'm a dog!" Michael tells her.

"Well, be careful with your little brother, Ivy." Emma warns her daughter. From what she can see of Michael's wrist, Ivy hasn't pulled on the string thankfully but can never be too careful.

Michael pouts. "I'm big, Mama!"

Emma smiles softly, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know you are, my little man but Mama worries."

She does worry about her children. Ivy has become good friends with Bridie, Patrick's youngest daughter, and Michael with Philip, the youngest son. Ivy also adores Kathleen and Kathy while Michael trails wide-eyed after Pat Junior. The local children are unkind to Ivy in particular but after promptly pinching one in the face after they began insulting Robert, the other kids have left her alone when she is playing outside. But it means, that apart from Bridie and Philip, Michael and Ivy don't have any other friends, which breaks Emma's heart.

As far as Emma can see, Ivy in particular isn't completely unhappy in Boston... but she isn't happy either. America hasn't changed her life for the better like Emma hoped. Not to her mind anyway. In fact, she is worried it has made it worse.

——

Dear Mary,

It warms my heart to hear from all of you on the goings on at Downton, it often shocks me how much happens!

I know I've already said it but thank you for the gifts you sent for Michael's birthday in the February. He absolutely adores that bike and is already arguing that he's big enough to ride a proper big bike and gets annoyed when we tell him no. I still can't believe he's already three. He's running around like mad after Ivy now so it's good that we found a flat with a garden. Ivy's settling in and she'll be picking up the accent in no time I'm sure so you'll have to warn your father and grandmother of it before we all see you next. I'm sure Cora will be thrilled.

With Tom so busy since they've opened a new sales room, it's down to me to keep them in check. It's proving successful as a venture, pulling in both farmers after modern machinery and ordinary citizens after an automobile. America is embracing the motor car more quickly than England, I think, probably because the distances between places seem greater here. Patrick assures us sales will pick up even further as the weather becomes warmer as people like to drive out of the city during the hot summer months. You'll be pleased to hear the last significant snowfall we had was in March. The weather is definitely improving. They're going to have to hire another person for the salesroom at this rate.

I'm glad to hear you're taking over the role of agent as I worry that anyone would understand just how much you care about Downton. Tom feels your pain when you talk about Robert and his adherence to the old-fashioned way of doing things with the estate. I know it used to drive both Tom and Matthew mad. I don't want you to fall out with him but don't forget, Mary, that while he is the earl, you own Downton as much as he does. I know you're very aware of the fact that you're safeguarding the estate for George. Your opinion counts for much.

I am happy to hear Downton did so well at the Livestock show. I know you still see your sister's behaviour as 'faux mothering syndrome' and that you think her worry about Marigold going missing at the show even for a moment was silly but be kind to your sister, she deserves to have someone else to focus on and no child should have too much love. Also, I know your father should've discussed with you about the Drewes leaving but I'm sure everything's fine and it's not that big of a mystery. Though, reading about the family day out, the twists and turns makes me feel tearful as I read it. It's true what they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder.

You shouldn't be surprised that I'm on your mother's and Isobel's side when it comes to the fate of the Downton Hospital. A modernised Hospital will be good for patients. Your grandmother shouldn't forget it's not her who's in the firing line when it comes to medical treatment. Though I can say your description of Robert being the piggy in the middle of it all.

Now, about Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes, you must let Mrs Hughes decide where to hold her wedding breakfast. I know you mean well, my love, but it is her day, not yours. And I am quite sure that Mr Carson will be happy as long as she is happy. He loves her, so he will put her first and do what he thinks is best for her and that will be giving her what she wants on their wedding day. It may not be your idea of a wedding breakfast, but you must allow her to have things as she wants them on her special day. Promise me you won't interfere with their plans, no matter how tempted you are to do so. It's their day, not yours.

Also, are you sure Rose may be pregnant? Or should I contain myself from jumping up and down in excitement?

I'm not sure I would describe our life in Boston as exactly 'fish back in water' so to speak. The Irish community has definitely had varying opinions on Tom and I's backgrounds.

I haven't told Tom yet, but I am missing Downton, more than I thought I would. I dreamt last night I was in the park at Downton, walking with Ivy and Michael under the great trees, listening to the pigeons cooing in their branches. And when I woke, my eyes were filled with tears. I'm missing you all more than I ever thought I would.

Anyway, on that cheery note, considering all that's going on, it might be difficult for us to attend Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson's wedding as I imagine it'll be sometime soon. Don't be too controlling and give them my best wishes.

All the best,

Emma.

——

Late April 1925

"You might think it's stupid—" Tom begins to say one evening. They'd just finished cleaning up after their dinner, the kids in bed after a long day at school. Emma had spent the day with Kathleen, taking a walk in the park to feed the ducks (Ivy had pleaded with her to after they couldn't go over the weekend due to the weather) and sending off her latest letter home.

Emma put up her hand cutting him off, pulling herself from her position of lying on his chest. "I'm going to stop you there. When have you ever said something stupid?"

"What about when I was ranting and raving the first time both of us experienced having dinner with Larry Grey?" Tom reminds her pointedly.

Emma rolls her eyes. "In your defence, you'd been drugged. And so had Billy, so you weren't alone."

"True." Tom shrugs before shifting nervously. "Anyway, I, uh, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Us, the children, Boston. Whether it's a right fit for us. I wasn't sure right from the beginning whether we were doing the right thing in coming to Boston, but I felt I had to try." Tom says, the words tumbling out of him.

"Me too." Emma admits. "When we came here, I thought it was for good with the odd visit back to Downton but now I'm wondering if we made the right decision. The children miss it."

"I know what you mean. I hoped that– I wanted the children would have a fresh start somewhere where they wouldn't have all the baggage they'd have in England." Tom confesses. "Somewhere where having working-class parents living with the upper class wouldn't mean a damn thing. Seems I was wrong about that. It seems the Irish care about that even more than most of the English."

"For the opposite reason mind you." Emma points out. "I am realising more and more that the Irish and Irish Americans we meet here see me and the children as utterly and irredeemably English and – with a few notable exceptions – most of them greet both of us with a strong distrust."

"That's what is making this all so wrong for me. The children, I don't want them to have to wake up every day and know that there are people in the world who hate them simply because of who their parents are. That didn't happen at home." Tom scrunches up his nose distastefully then. "For once, the English have proved themselves more tolerant than the Irish in that respect."

Emma lets out a snort. "Did you just call Downton home?" She smirks.

Tom rolls his eyes. "Don't give me that look, it's home to you too."

"It is." She admits. "I think Downton is home for all of us now, maybe more than when we were in Dublin. They took me in when I had nowhere to go, helped me find my footing in a world that used to be over a century old to me even though they didn't know it. I wanted to desperately give Boston a chance but the way they treat all of us, like we're the enemies."

"All of Patrick's friends," Tom says, "they think I might be reporting back to British military intelligence."

Emma scoffs. "I don't get it. You were literally banished from Ireland while fighting for its independence."

"Tell that to the boys." Tom retorts.

Emma smiles a self-deprecating smile. "Being married to me probably doesn't help."

"Hey," Tom strokes her cheek softly. "Being married to you and having the children is the only things keeping me sane."

"Bridget Rice thinks different." Emma grumbles.

"Bridget Rice doesn't know you." Tom argues, grinning. "I could tell her all sorts things about you that makes you nice."

Emma giggles and they share a kiss.

"When do you want to leave?" Emma asks, pulling back.

Tom hums softly, stroking her stomach as he thinks. "There's a certain wedding in a few weeks weeks that I'd like us to make it back in time for if we can. Mrs Hughes has been kind to us over the years, I want to wish them well."

Emma nods, agreeing with that idea. "You'll need to tell Patrick soon."

"He already knows."

"What?!" Emma exclaims. "But we've only just decided."

"Apparently it were already obvious." Tom grins. "He sat me down today, asking what date we're leaving. Turns out they already suspected we'd be leaving and put an advertisement in a few newspapers and trade publications for someone. He's asked me to look through the possible candidates."

"Better get started then." Emma declares.

——

16th May 1925

The door opens and a hall boy stands there, which is unusual. It is rare that Mr Carson, Mr Bates' Thomas and the footmen, Albert, Andy and Mr Molesley, would all be out at the same time.

"Can I help you?" He says automatically, then looks at them, Emma, Tom and two sleepy children in their arms plus luggage that they'd already taken out of the car they had taken from the Station.

Peter's face breaks into a surprised expression. "Mr and Mrs Branson, no one said you were coming today."

Tom smiles. "No, well we wanted it to be a surprise, so the family didn't know we were."

They go inside. "Is anyone in Peter?" Emma asks the hall boy.

"No ma'am, they are down at Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes wedding in the Village." He tells them.

"That's today? Oh, I thought it was tomorrow. So, you are on your own?" He nods in response.

"Right, well in that case, let me help you get our luggage inside." Tom says. "Mr Carson need never know that you didn't do it on your own if you don't tell him." Peter nods and begins to do so. Tom turns to Emma. "You take a seat in the Library with the children, put your feet up, then we'll go down to the Village to find everyone."

Emma nods, taking the children through.

Thirty minutes later they walk back down the drive towards the Village, or more accurately Tom walks, Emma waddles and the children run ahead, then back to their parents, trying to encourage them to hurry up. Smiling at their antics, Emma and Tom keep their pace considering Emma can't exactly run at seven months pregnant.

Ivy and Michael stop inside the gates when they reach them and wait for me, remembering our rule that they must not go through without either their parents, one of the family or staff with them. Emma is glad they had remembered the rule before they had needed to call out to her.

——

They stand outside the School Hall in Downton Village. Michael balances on Tom's hip and Ivy grips her mother's hand, staring at the entrance, hearing the rumble of Mr Carson's deep voice through the open door. A mixture of nerves and anticipation churns inside Emma at the thought of seeing them again after all these months.

Ivy shifts next to her, drawing Emma's attention. "Ready?" She asks her.

Ivy beams at her and nods. "Ready."

Emma shares a look with Tom who nods and takes a deep breath and walks into the building.

The first thing Emma sees is the decorations. It is cheerfully decorated with the traditional sit-down wedding breakfast with groaning tables. Her breath catches as she takes in all the familiar faces. Anna stands beaming next to Mr Bates, Daisy stands with Mr Mason and Mrs Patmore with Andy and Thomas lingering nearby. Isobel and Violet are gathered together, and Robert, Cora, Billy, Edith and Mary stand with their backs to the doors. All gaze upon the couple in the centre of the room.

Then Robert leads the toast to the happy couple. "The bride and groom!"

The crowd of people in the room echo the toast.

"To the bride and groom." Emma and Tom both say in the ensuing silence that follows as the guests sip their drinks.

A sea of faces whirls around to face the newcomers. The family's faces light up at the sight of them standing there at the back of the room.

"Emma! Tom! And Ivy and Michael, darlings! What are you doing here? And how did you know where to find us?" Mary cries happily. She moves towards them, joined by Billy, Cora and Edith, and embraces Tom and Emma in turn.

Emma laughs, slightly embarrassed. "I got the dates wrong, thought the wedding was tomorrow," she receives an embrace from Cora who turns to greet Tom, "but we turn up at Downton to be greeted by the hall boy who told us where you were." An embrace comes from Cora too.

Tom turns to Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes (or should they say Mrs Carson?) with a smile. "And it means that we can congratulate you in person. Mr and Mrs Carson."

"Oh, are you back for a holiday?" Mrs Hughes asks, very touched.

"Say you'll stay!" Mary begs.

"That's just the point." Emma replies. "We can stay as long as you want us."

"I don't understand. What are you saying?" Edith asks, with a hesitant smile.

"Just this. That we've come back and we'd like to stay for good." Tom explains. "If Lord Grantham will have us."

"Of course, we'll have you!" Cora exclaims. "We'll be delighted!"

"I echo every syllable." Robert says very happily. He takes Michael into his arms. "Hello, Michael, my boy! Give old Donk a kiss!" They kiss.

Ivy pulls away from Emma. "And me!"

"Oh! And you of course!" Robert hands Michael over to Cora to happily greet Ivy.

"Emma, Tom, this is amazing news. Are you sure?" Billy eagerly questions, getting his chance to embrace Emma with a kiss on her cheek and shakes hands with Tom.

"Don't worry." Emma reassures. "We're really, really sure."

Robert puts Ivy down and shakes Tom's hand cordially before greeting Emma with a kiss on the cheek.

"So, what happened?" Billy asks.

"Well, it's quite simple. He had to drag me all the way to Boston," Emma's comment receives a few chuckles, "to work it out and it took us a while, but we got there in the end."

"Go on, what was it?" Mary presses.

"We learned that Downton is our home. And that you are our family. If we didn't quite know that before we left, we know it now." Tom answers tearfully.

George and Sybbie have spotted Michael and Ivy, waving. Cora and the nannies put the children down, and George and Sybbie run to Ivy and Michael and give them hugs. Little Marigold totters after them.

"Marigold?" Edith softly encourages her daughter to say hello, too.

Marigold walks up to Ivy and Michael, rather more shyly than George and Sybbie. Ivy puts her arms around her. "Hello!"

Michael decides to join in by wrapping his arms around Marigold as well.

And everybody coos over them happily. Emma's heart swells. She's definitely not crying.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[heich0e]

brine jean kirschtein/reader (AOT) word count: 1.5k tags: hurt/comfort, jean being the best most sweetest boy, just an extremely self indulgent piece if i'm being honest, tw: implied mental illness/distress

"Wanna go to the beach tomorrow?"

"What's the occasion?" It's the same thing he always asks, and has as long as you've known him, no matter what you're proposing. The same thing he'd respond to the proposition to go to the grocery store on a Wednesday afternoon.

You take comfort in that familiarity.

You clear your throat, voice a little thick as you reply: "I just don't really wanna be alone right now."

Jean doesn't need you to say anything else.

He doesn't need you to apologize for the fact it's been days since he's heard from you.

He doesn't need to ask if you're okay.

And so the next day, even though it's far from summer and way too cold to properly enjoy the sun and sand of a beach, the two of you load into his car and make the forty-five minute drive to the coast.

You listen to music along the way, playlists you took great pride in crafting when you'd felt a little less blue, and the familiar songs and sound of Jean humming along to his favourites from his place behind the wheel slowly helps you feel better, if only a little bit.

You stop at a gas station to buy some snacks and drinks which you pack away into your beat-up little backpack, keeping out only a package of salty pretzels and bottle of soda to share between the two of you while you finish the drive.

The beach is grey when you get there. Fog hovering over the water about a mile off shore; cold, briny mist hanging in the air and kissing your cheeks as the two of you settle down into the sand. You can taste the salt on your lips as your tongue peeks out to moisten them--though that could be leftover from the pretzels.

Jean brought blankets to sit on, grabbing them from the trunk before he locked his car, and even a few more to wrap around yourselves-- having anticipated the less than ideal climate.

You sit in silence for a long time, listening to the waves rush up the shore.

"You've been quiet."

He doesn't just mean today. You know that. You've been absent for the past week or so, emotionally distant even longer than that. It had been days since you'd responded to anyone's text or calls.

You were just in one of your moods.

It happened sometimes, as much as you loathed it. Like something in you just stopped working, failed to cooperate with you no matter how desperately you wanted it to. Synapses failing to fire.

"I know," you reply softly to his comment.

He doesn't tell you he's been worried. The way his eyes have been scanning your face when he thinks you don't notice from the very moment you slumped into his passenger's seat has already given that away.

Heat burns behind your eyes, a familiar tightness in your throat.

You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them with your warm blanket draped around your shoulders.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, I know this happens sometimes," he tells you, gentle yet firm in his resolve.

"I hate it," your voice breaks halfway through the words. "I hate feeling like this-"

You watch a big wave swell a few metres out from the shore.

"-I hate not feeling like myself. I hate not being able to take care of my shit. I hate not knowing how to reply to text messages-"

The wind cools the hot tears as they track down your cheeks.

"-I hate feeling like people hate me."

Jean's arm winds itself around your shoulders, sidling up beside you on the blanket. Warm and solid and there at your side.

As ever.

"No one could ever hate you."

"Connie might," you snort, but the sound is wet with tears, "I have 432 missed texts from him."

You pull your phone from the pocket of your hoodie and pass it over to Jean. He unlocks it with your passcode that he's long memorized, wincing when he sees the number of red notifications dotted across your home screen. He taps his way across the device, handing it back to you after a moment.

When you look again all of the notifications have been cleared.

You feel a little better.

"They're just checking in. They all care about you, 's all," Jean uses the corner of his blanket to wipe at the tears clinging to your cheeks. You slump into his side.

"I miss them."

"I think they'd like to hear you say that."

"I just don't know how to reach out."

You never do, when you get like this. Scared to break the silence that you'd created between you and all of the people that you loved.

"It's fucking freezing!"

A familiar voice has your head snapping towards the stairs leading down to the beach from the parking lot.

A handful of faces you recognize are rapidly approaching, arms laden with blankets and cold winter beach day accessories.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

Connie flops down onto your blanket the minute he reaches you, kicking up sand along the way.

"God what a shit day to wanna come to the beach--lemme in there," he says, prying his way under your blanket, nestling himself into your warmth.

"Fuck Jean, that text couldn't have come at a better time, I've had to piss for like 25 minutes," Eren says, helping Mikasa spread another blanket out across from yours while Armin weighs the edges down with rocks he'd found laying about.

"Nasty," Jean replies with a curl of his lip.

"He kept saying he was gonna pee in a bottle if you didn't tell us we could come out soon," Connie chirps, head poking up from where it had been resting on your shoulder. "I bet him 15 bucks he wouldn't."

"Please tell me you didn't," you say warily, looking up at Eren with wide eyes.

He grins. "Nah, went in the bushes on the way down."

"Stay away from my food with your nasty piss hands, dumbass." Jean bats Eren's arm away as he reaches for a bag of chips that rests in front of you.

"Oh, I have sanitizer," Armin says helpfully, reaching for the bag he has strapped across his chest, producing a small bottle from its contents.

Sasha plops down on the other side of Connie, peeking over at you. She has orange dust crusted on the tips of her fingers and around her lips from the cheesy snack she's eating.

"Wan'some?" she asks, holding a (borderline industrial sized) plastic jar of cheese balls towards you, already half-eaten.

You nod, picking out a handful for yourself.

"We brought stuff for a bonfire, do you think it's too damp to get it going?" Mikasa asks, staring out at the fog rolling in as the ends of her short hair lift with the breeze.

"Oh, I can get it going," Eren says confidently, pulling a lighter from the pocket of his sweatpants and flicking it on.

"Eren," the dark haired girl sighs, "don't you remember what happened last time?"

Last time meaning the time he'd burned off half of his own eyebrow trying to light a fire to celebrate your high school graduation so many moons ago.

"Yeah, the spock brow was not your best look," Connie chimes in, waggling his finger at his brows demonstrably.

You choke on a laugh.

After numerous assurances that he would not lose any hair in the process, Eren, Connie and Armin set to work building a modest bonfire a few paces away.

You curl into Jean's side, one blanket now wrapped around you both, burying your face into the collar of his hoodie. He smells like clean laundry, the salt air, and the same cologne he's worn since you bought him a bottle of it for Christmas years prior.

"Thank you," you say quietly as you listen to the dulcet tones of Eren and Connie bickering about log placement while Armin tries his best to mediate between them.

Jean's arm tightens around your shoulders, drawing you even further into his warmth.

He doesn't need you to say it though.

He sees the gratefulness in the way your shoulders have eased.

The way your eyes shine when the boys finally get the fire to spark to life, cheering exuberantly at their own success.

He hears it in your quiet giggles as you watch Sasha and Mikasa squabble playfully over the last handful of cheeseballs.

Feels it as you go slack against his side, the sky long gone dark, your chest rising and falling with a sleep that comes easier to you than any had for weeks.

This is what the occasion is.

And it's a great one, at that.

[osamiiya]

Pairing; Iwaizumi x Reader

Warnings: Some suggestive humor, nothing explicitly said, making out

Summary: You and Iwaizumi are too stubborn to admit to Oikawa that you did really like each other and had a great time on the date he set up, so you keep up the appearance that you hate each other.

Iwaizumi has hated you since the second grade when Oikawa saw you out of the corner of his eye and invited you over to practice volleyball with them.

And that's when it started, loud groans when the other walked into the room, snide comments under your breath, eyes rolled when the other person talked.

It's been years that Oikawa has had to separate the two of you before someone got hit, years of Oikawa complaining that he felt like a mother, and that he would grey early which was not good for his appearances.

Who even knows how the idea of the two of you secretly liking eachother came to be. Maybe it was Hanamaki or Matsukawa joking around. Either way, he was right.

And when you walked into the restaurant on this 'blind date' Oikawa set up, looking nicer than usual, Iwaizumi's heart clenched and a blush made its way up his cheeks.

"Why're you here." Your eyes narrowed when you spotted him, ignoring the way your heart beat a little quicker at the sight of him in the white dress shirt you had picked out for his birthday, having done a joint gift with Oikawa and all the other options being the same pair of sweats he probably already owned, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and they're uneven and if it was any other moment you would've made fun of him.

"I have a blind date Oikawa set up." It's said bluntly and you nod in agreement, any sarcastic quip or comment lost on your tongue.

The two of you end up waiting outside the restaurant, on opposite sides of the doorway, for an hour before you take out your phone to text Oikawa tht you've been stood up, and Iwaizumi does the same thing from what you can see out of the corner of your eye.

"You have such a bad personality even your blind date stood you up." The words leave your mouth in a familiar way, the end clipped and your eyes refusing to meet his as you stare at the typing symbol in your messages.

"You're one to talk, your blind date took one look at a picture Oikawa sent and saw how ugly you were."

The insults are childish as they're thrown back and forth, the familiarity of it helping soothe the sting of getting stood up.

Your phone dings with a message from Oikawa and your eyes quickly scan the text, widening at the message.

"Oi stupid, you were my date apparently." There's a brush of embarrassed flush across his cheeks and his hand runs through his hair as his eyes look anywhere but you.

"This is stupid let's just go-"

You're quick to interrupt, watching the vein pop out if Iwaizumi's head in irritation.

"Why don't we just go on the date? We can play nice for one night, I don't want to have gotten ready for nothing." Your arms are crossed as you stare him down, and Iwaizumi sighs, agreeing begrudgingly.

And surprisingly you had a nice night, Iwaizumi even mentioning how the date was going well, the air clearing about hating eachother, finding that you never hated each other as previously thought.

He walks you home and squeezes the hand that intertwined with yours sometime during the date.

"I had a nice time." His smile is soft and it's at that moment when you realize that you wouldn't be able to go back to how it was before.

"I did too... all thanks to Oikawa I guess." Iwaizumi cringes as you laugh, Iwaizumi laughing stiffly along with you.

"He'll brag about how he was right for the rest of time." He groans out, punctuated with a chuckle as you swing your hands.

"Well I don't think we have to tell him it went well."

Iwaizumi's eyebrow shoots up at your words and you find your hand cupping his cheek and smoothing out his eyebrow.

"We can tell him it went bad, just so he stops putting us together, and we can have dinner next week?"

Iwaizumi nods and agreement, kissing your cheek before he goes home, a smile not leaving his face.

And that's how it went, Oikawa pouted when told him the date went terribly and that people don't change overnight, all while sending a knowing look to Iwaizumi as his foot finds yours under the lunch table, knocking against yours playfully.

You'd fight during the day, and find yourself in Iwaizumi's arms after school on your couch as a movie plays on the television.

"We should tell him sometime, he looked suspicious today."

Iwaizumi's hands find your waist and squeeze gently.

"That's because that guy had the nerve to keep flirting." He's pouting slightly as he remembers how the guy kept flirting even as you turned him down, Iwaizumi eventually stepping in with a "Dude, stop it."

You laugh as you kiss the pout on his lips, feeling as Iwaizumi's arms move you to laying down on his couch, a mischievous smile on his face as he leans over you.

"You know I'm all yours." Your words are whispered against his lips, and you feel Iwaizumi shudder slightly at the feeling of your breath on his lips.

"All mine."

His lips capture yours in a kiss, and you melt against him, the feeling of his lips on yours, and one of your hands pinned above your head, hands intertwined as his thumb brushes the back of your hand softly.

You don't even hear the knocking on the door, or the cream of the door as it opens.

No, you don't see Oikawa until you hear his yell and something drop.

Iwaizumi's off of you in a flash, pulling down your shirt that rode up with the wandering if his hands before running a hand through his hair.

"Oh hey Oikawa."

Oikawa looks shocked, and there's bread on the floor.

"Don't 'Hey Oikawa' me, you were making out. I saw y/n's tongue in your mouth Iwa-chan."

He shivers in disgust as he recalls the scene, a disgusted pout on his lips as he looks toward you for an explanation.

"Hajime, we should just tell him."

At the sound of Iwaizumi's first name, Oikawa's jaw drops, so it was serious.

"We're dating."

It's said with a shrug and you feel Iwaizumi get antsy, wanting your lips on his again.

"The date you set up went well, and turns out we didn't hate eachother."

Oikawa's fingers are up in a flash as he counts how many months it's been.

"You've been dating for 7 months and you didn't tell me?" You can tell Oikawa isn't mad that you're dating, just that you didn't tell him.

"It never came up." Iwaizumi shrugs, and his hand finds yours again.

Oikawa looks to you, and you shrug as well.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

"So you're telling me I didn't have to parent you for the last 7 months, or break up your arguments."

You snort as you hold back your laugh, and a smile spreads across Iwaizumi's face.

"We were going to tell you." You insist, and Oikawa shakes his head.

"I thought I was about to go prematurely grey because of the two of you, and now you're telling me it could have been avoided."

He sighs before continuing.

"No kissing at practice, I want to see how long it takes until Hanamaki and Mattsun figure it out."

You choke on your laughter as Iwaizumi mentions how Oikawa wasn't the first to walk in on you kissing, the duo accidentally opening the locker room door early before practice to find you pinned against the lockers, Iwaizumi's lips on yours.

Oikawa goes pale with embarassment and shock as he groans.

"I'm your best friend why am I last."

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and mumbles something about "Knowing this would happen." To which you slap his shoulder, biting back a laugh.

"Even Kageyama found out before you."

"Hajime!"

Kageyama had walked in on one of your dates after school when Oikawa got held up at school with his fangirls.

Oikawa groans for a solid minute before collapsing onto the couch on the other side of you, rewinding the movie to the beginning.

"If you're happy."

There's a smile on his face, even as he tries to hide it, before he starts complaining about your choice in movie, fake gagging when Iwaizumi mentions how you weren't planning on watching it anyways.

Your hand is intertwined with Iwaizumi's, your head on his shoulder as the movie plays, Oikawa making a big show out of hugging the pillow, grumbling about being single.

"I think I liked it better when you were fighting than now. Iwaizumi Hajime that's not y/ns thigh, that's mine."

---

Taglist;

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[driversmutbucket]

Just read the "knowing other people can hear" with Charlie prompt. OH. MY. LORT. So thank you for that, and for ruining my ovaries with "she'll just be hoping that I'm knocking you up..." *Pant* 🥵 That being said, I would LOVE your take on Charlie's reaction to a pregnancy. Is he nervous? Over the moon? Does the thought of reader carrying his baby get him riled up? Thank you for sharing this wealth of smut. You are a gift ❤️

Thoughts-

Ummmm I feel like we would be great friends. RIP ovaries.

Thanks for the lovely words about my pornnnn

Ohmygodddd sweet Charlie would be absolutely FIZZING.

I though I was gonna reply to this real quick, but alas a few days later- an entire fic.

Let me indulge you.

Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy sex, oral sex, daddy kink/DDLG (I’m so fucking predictable), NSFW

Charlie never thought he would have the opportunity to be a father again. When you had met each other he was 35, Henry was starting school, he mournfully thought that chapter of his life was over.

Meeting you had been unexpected, in the best way. It started as nothing serious- both having recently come out of messy break ups, but flourished into a committed relationship over the space of a year.

After two years together it happened, by accident. It was a few weeks after Charlie’s 37th birthday. You had felt odd. After a week of persistent symptoms, that google told you could be pregnancy, you had picked up a pregnancy test, heart hammering in your ears.

You has sat in the bathroom dazed for a solid half an hour, the positive test held in your hand.

You scrolled through your contacts and called Nicole.

Charlie and his ex-wife Nicole, despite a stressful and emotional divorce, were on good terms. The first blended family Christmas you had shared, you had clicked. Which, frankly was very helpful, considering your involvement in Henry’s life. Now you talked regularly, and shared in the marvel that was Henry.

The moment she had answered you had burst into tears. They weren’t particularly sad tears, more- overwhelmed tears. She had calmed you, soothed you, her own voice wavered when she processed that Henry would have a sibling.

“Charlie is the best pregnancy and birth partner you could hope for y/n, oh my god, he is going to be so excited.” She had breathed wistfully, perhaps remembering back to her own experience.

That night, you had told Charlie to close his eyes and hold out his hand. He had done so with a questioning smile. You had placed the positive test in his hand, heart pounding, and told him to open his eyes.

He looked at it, then to you, then back at it before letting a laugh of disbelief, “Babe?!”

“I’m pregnant.” You had smiled, anxiety easing.

“Fuck!” He had shouted, grinning, throwing his hands up in the air, before engulfing you in the tightest hug.

His eyes had been filled with tears when he let you go. “Henry is going to be a big brother, I-...you-! This is amazing, i fucking love you so much.”

By this point you had your own tears running down your face, laughing at the state of you both.

—

The last 6 months had flown by. You had found out the gender at the earliest possible point. Both far too excited to wait until the birth. At 15 weeks you had gone in for a scan, breath held as the ultrasound technician inspected the baby.

Tears were threatening to spill even before the technician announced that you were expecting a boy.

Charlie had cupped your face and kissed your lips softly, his own eyes glassy. “Another boy” he had murmured, face glowing with pride.

Henry was almost beside himself with excitement. He had stayed with you over some of the summer break. Every other sentence began with, “When my baby brother....”

Even now he rang almost every night from his mom’s house, asking how the baby was.

Your body had changed rapidly over the last 6 months to accommodate the new life growing inside. Everything was fuller, curvier.

Charlie thought you looked sexier than ever. You kind of didn’t get it, but you happily took it and reaped the rewards.

Rewards being his hands all over you, all the time. His sex drive doubling, if not tripling. Then there were the words he would whisper in your ear, anywhere, anytime that never failed to fluster you.

“You look so fucking sexy, round with our baby.” He would growl, hands roaming up over your hips, grazing the underside of your full breasts before splaying over your large belly.

—

Tonight you were going out for dinner. Henry had not long returned to Nicole’s, the house now to yourself, you had devilish plans to seduction.

You had ordered pregnancy lingere online, and you had to admit, it was hot. The completely sheer baby pink bodysuit had a deep v neckline, your breasts which were large and swollen only just contained by the thin fabric. It was a thong bodysuit, showing your ample bottom in a way that had you saying silent thanks to the pregnancy weight you had gained.

You made sure to pull on your dress and stockings before Charlie could see.

The dress was a recent purchase, having finally given into maternity clothing, everything in your closet far too small to accommodate the bump.

Your OBGYN had told you at your last appointment that your little boy was 99th percentile in size. You had shot Charlie a look of horror.

“I’m not that surprised considering how tall his father is.” the doctor had smiled, “he will certainly be a big boy, I would say at this rate, 9lbs or more.”

“Oh course you would knock me up with a mini version of yourself.” You had huffed on the way home, “this kid is gonna wreck me.”

Consistent with his projected size, your bump was larger than most, people often mistaking you for further along. “Nope he is just huge.” You would sigh, giving Charlie the side eye, he would grin in return.

The dress was navy blue, and stretched, ruching nicely over your belly before ending mid calf.

“Is that new?” Charlie asked as he walked into the bedroom.

“Mmm yeah, because unfortunately wearing your clothing isn’t an option in this instance.” You shot him a sly smile.

Have exhausted your own wardrobe of options a few weeks ago you had moved to Charlie’s, which he had no complaint about. In fact it was added to the mile-long list of current turn-on’s.

“As much as love seeing that belly fill out my clothes, this is very nice.” He chuckled, coming in behind you as you stood at the full length mirror, kissing the top of your head and patting your bottom.

-

You dozed in the uber on the way home. Charlie had had a few wines and was having an enthusiastic conversation with the driver.

He led you through the door close to midnight, when you got to the bedroom you kicked your shoes off.

“Can you undress me?” You asked innocently.

Bless him, he was none the wiser as he reached for the hem of your dress and began peeling it off and over your head.

His eyes widened as he tossed the dress aside and took in the lingere.

“Fuck— what is this?” His voice was an octave lower, fingers tracing the neckline.

You bit your lip. “A little something for you.”

“Can you take off my stockings baby?” You asked as you turned around and bent yourself over, planting your hands on the bed.

The position gave him a view of the back of the bodysuit, the thong, beneath the stocking.

“Fuck.” he groaned, finding the waistband and rolling them off you slowly, until he was knelt down, helping you step out of them.

“Stay like that.” He murmured, running his hands up your legs, until then got to your ass, where he smacked both cheeks at the same time with splayed hands.

You let out a throaty moan.

His lips grazed the red marks that lingered, your breathing growing erratic as his mouth got closer to your sex.

“Always so wet.” He hummed. Pushing aside the thin strip of fabric.

You gasped as his tongue began to circle your entrance.

“Hhnnnghh Charrrrrrlie.” You pushed your hips back, into his face, spurring him on as he licked through your folds to your aching nub. His nose providing additional stimulation as it dragged.

His mouth, that magic mouth, had you gripping the sheets and whimpering.

He paused and stood you up from where he knelt, making adjusting your legs so they were hip width apart.

He sat on his feet and went back to work, your hips automatically began rocking against his mouth.

When you looked down you couldn’t see much, your belly obscuring what was probably an orgasm inducing view.

Your hand found his hair and gripped a handful as your moans became louder.

“Charlie— holy hell— I—” you babbled, before orgasming on his face, hips stuttering.

“Oh my god.” You breathed, stepping back and finding the edge of the bed before your legs gave out.

You gazed at him, kneeling there, hair touseled, face wet with your slick.

He stood and began stripping wordlessly, trousers bulging with evidence of his arousal.

You stood up, as he stepped towards you, and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. His hands roamed, teasing your nipples through the sheer fabric.

He broke the kiss. “As much as I love this little number, I need to take it off.” He said with a smirk.

“And then what?” You asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes.

“You know very well what, little girl.” He rumbled, sliding into his role seemlessly.

“I don’t Daddy, you have to tell me.” You pouted.

He chuckled, as he began to peel off the lingere, your heavy breasts finally free from the constructing garment.

He made a primal rumbling sounds in his chest as his hand took your tits and kneaded them.

“Well little one, Daddy is going to undress you, and then you are going to be a good girl and sit on Daddies cock, ok?”

You nodded eagerly, “that’s my good girl” he hummed, pulling the lingere the rest of the way off so it fell to your feet, kicking it aside.

He got onto the bed and knelt, sitting on his feet, eyes fiery with desire as he looked at you.

“Look at you, so beautiful carrying Daddies baby. Come here.” He patted his thigh.

You got onto the bed and crawled over to him before shimmying back onto his thighs, your back to his chest.

He guided your hips up, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Please.” You whimpered.

“Please, what? He growled in your ear.

“Please Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

He pulled your hips down onto his cock, filling you to the hilt with a loud moan.

You cried out in pleasure, this angle had quickly become a favorite in pregnancy.

He helped you move, one hand under your bottom, the other cradling your tummy lovingly.

“Oh fuck Charlie.” You murmured, roleplay forgetten as you lost yourself in the dragging of his cock.

He moaned into your neck, you reached behind your head, gripping his hair, your back arching slightly.

“Y/n” He breathed, nibbling your ear, “you gonna cum for me babe?”

You whimpered, nodding, his hand cradling your belly moving down to seek out your needy clit.

He circled it slowly, relishing the sound of your long, low moans.“OhOh— right there.”

You arched your back, pushing down against him with your hips, driving his cock as deep inside you as you could. He responded by firmly and quickly rubbing your clit, sending you over the edge in a matter of seconds.

He came with a groan as your inner walls strangled his cock, milking every last drop of cum.

You relaxed against him, panting and grinning, his cock still snuggly inside you. He rolled you both, carefully so you were laying, spooning as he stretched his legs.

His hands rubbed your belly, soon after your son began to kick enthusiastically.

“Little tyrant.” You muttered, eyelids getting heavy.

“Him or me?” Charlie joked, hand moving in circulation motions over his little kicks.

—

[queerbutstillhere]

Hi, honey!! I'm back on Tumblr hohoiii 😆 If you still accept prompts can I ask you for: Damian and Jonno's children (a boy and a girl, God knows why😶) are sent to the past and met their daddys who are recently dating. ((Please, make it extremely awkward, some Batfam too)) tysm😙

(Once again, thank ya for giving me a chance to work with these kiddos! I hope you like this!!)

The portal dumped them out in the middle of the air. Because of course it did.

The two screaming kid vigilantes grabbed at each other as they plumpted through the air. Zaina willed her fluctuating powers to kick in, and sure enough, the adrenaline caused the surge and she snatched her brother out of the air, slowing their fall.

"Oof! You're heavy!" She exclaimed, scowling down at him.

"I am not!" The younger teen, built like a rugby player, said with a scowl.

"Yes you are!"

She looked around, flying to the nearby roof and touching down on it, she "gently" dropped her brother to the graveled roof of the tall building.

"Where are we?" Malik asked, popping up and looking around.

"Ummm."

He was already activating his lenses, which were glowing blue now. He looked around, turning a full circle.

"I think we're in Gotham," Zaina asked, walking to the edge and looking down.

"Really? Did he just teleport us away."

"... No, look."

Zaina pointed across the street to billboard on the side of a building, one that had Bruce Wayne, and something about Wayne Industries.

"Oh my God," Malik exclaimed. "Sis. I think we were sent back in time."

Zaina and Malik Wayne-Kent were the children of Damian Wayne and Jon Kent, they had been adopted at 5 and 3, respectively, and had lived with their parents for thirteen years now. Both were born Arabic, but had met Jon during a crisis in their Homeland, their mother having been killed in it, and Jon took very quick steps to make sure the kids were okay, and not long after, he and Damian decided to adopt them.

Zaina was eighteen now, and yet still shorter then her brother. She was only 5'5", and fairly muscular from having done gymnastics almost her whole life. Her black hair was cut short in a shoulder length bob, and she had darker skin like her father. She had, a few months ago, been exposed to platinum kryptonite, and had thus gained the powers of Superman. Only they were still on the fritz. It made her wince to remember the weeks when her hearing was changing, and when her eyes evolved. The good news was she didn't need glasses. Her father had wanted to take them away, but Zaina had begged and begged and made full persuasive essays and finally convinced him to allow her a trial period.

Malik was only sixteen and but he was tall, and broad in the shoulders. He played lacrosse and worked out and ran and all those things, and yes, he was in a rugby league. He was already a hottie at sixteen, and Zaina could not count the amount of girls she had chased away from her brother. His dark hair, more brown then black, was kept short, shaved on the sides and just a little bit of fluff on top. He had no powers, just his wicked sharp intellect and skills with technology.

They had both become teen vigilantes a few years back, having adopted adaptations of some of the previous heroes in their family line. Zaina had become Robin, with a bit of a twist on the uniform, it was more solid black, with splashed of color here and there, her boots, her belt, her cape, her gloves. So on. Soon she probably would switch to a Super title when her powers fully developed. Malik had made his own name, Batboy, until he felt he had earned the Batman title from his father. His costume was a lot like the Black Bat costume, and his cowl didn't completely cover his head, just came up his neck and around his eyes, his hair sticking out the top, and the classic bat ears poking up from the sides.

Their parents had both stepped down from their vigilante rolls for the most part while they were raising the kids, but when the siblings had started sneaking out, they decided to pick the rolls back up so they could properly train them, and watch their backs until they were ready to go out. It's doubtful they ever thought this would happen.....

Their game plan was simple. Find Batman or one of their uncles. Explain. Get taken back to the batcave, and then to the Watchtower so Waverider or someone can send them back to their time.

They split up after Malik resynced their comms, going to opposite ends of the town. Zaina was flying, scanning the streets, listening for the sounds of her family. And then, as it tends to do, her powers just gave out. She screamed as she started falling, scrambling for her grapple gun, which Malik wisely made her keep. And then she landed on something with a small thunk.

"Hey there, you better slow down a bit, shouldn't jump without a grapple in hand."

She recognized that voice. It was a bit younger, a bit more innocent and lively, but she recognized it all the same. She twisted in her savior's arms, looking up at Superboy.

"Pops!" She exclaimed joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

She probably shouldn't have done that.

Jon chuckled nervously, keeping his hold on her.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else..."

"Oh. . . No. It's a long story, we need to find ba- Robin, or errrrr....." She paused, considering how she should do this. "What year is it?"

"2019?"

"Okay. We need to find Robin."

".... Who are you?"

"I'm also Robin, but from the future."

Malik had similar luck. He had been poking around the narrows, secretly hoping to find Red Hood, when the screaming hit him. His sensors started going crazy seconds before he could hear it, and then he took off, running through the streets and weaving between cars and signs to reach the source.

He burst around the corner and found a full on gang street fight going down, a couple kids stuck in the middle.

"Hey!" He yelled, his voice projected slightly by his tech.

A couple people paused and turned to him. He grabbed his Bo staff, fully expanding it and hitting a button to send electrical currents through it.

"Back away from the kids."

One of them scoffed, stepping forwards.

"It's one of them batkids. Soak 'em, boys."

Malik easily knocked out the first two, flipping off the third to get back out of range of their bats and knuckles.

"Oh ho! He thinks he's hot shit!"

More thugs rushed at him, but Malik was used to this, he easily beat them all down. Until one got behind him, arms wrapping around his upper arms and squeezing. Another grabbed his Bo at the insulated section, preventing him from hitting anyone.

Then there was a thump and the person behind him let go. Malik reared forwards, headbutting the person in front of him. He judo flipped them quickly before turning back to find the kids. They were huddled against the wall. He took a running start and flipped over some thugs, ducking past others until he was at the kids. There were three total, two younger ones, and a teen, not much younger then him.

"Hi," he said with a smile, smacking another thug with his bo. "I'm going to get you children out of here okay?"

They nodded rapidly. Malik considered his options and then looked at the oldest.

"I need you to carry the smaller one."

She nodded, quickly getting him on her back piggyback style. Malik picked up the other kid the same way. Then he produced his grapple and aimed for the roof. Once it was hooked, he put away his baton, and grabbed the girl with his free arm. They quickly were yanked up and swung over the crowd of gang members to the end of the Street, where it was clear and safe. His shoulder complained greatly, but it was fine.

When he landed, set down the kids and turned around, everyone was gone. Except a vigilante. Robin. His baba.

He recognized his father instantly, having seen enough pictures to know, even with the significant difference.

"Oh thank God."

Robin eyed him warily.

"Who are you."

"I think we best wait for-"

His sensors beeped in annoyance at the detection of two Kryptonian's. He turned and found his sister and a much younger version of his pops landing, Zaina on Jon's back.

"Sis! Are you okay?!" He exclaimed, ditching Damian to run to her. She jumped off and ran over, meeting him and grabbing his face, scanning him over.

"I'm fine! I heard all the fighting!"

"I'm okay, did your powers give out again?"

"Yes! I was up four stories and they dropped and-"

"I told you not to get that high!" Malik protested.

"Hey! Don't lecture me!" Zaina glanced to the side and froze. "You found Baba?"

"Yeah."

"Are we going to tell them?"

"What else do you have in mind?"

"Doesn't that break time travel rules?"

Malik gave his sister an annoyed face.

"No- God, that's not- no, Z, no."

"Excuse me. We have questions," Jon said, stepping up.

"Police are almost here," Malik shot back, the lenses of his mask slightly blue. "We'll talk after."

After they cleared things up with the police, they headed to the batcave, and Malik immediately felt more relaxed in the familiar, yet older interior. He didn't hesitate to pull his mask off, looking around, noting the differences.

"Robin what is this?"

He glanced over to see Batman and immediately went still.

Bruce had died with they were young, they had barely gotten to know him, and Malik especially had very few memories of him... Zaina, on the other hand, gave a sob like noise and smacked her hand over her mouth. Everyone looked at her, confused.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, composing herself. She too reached up and took her mask off.

"You would like an explanation?" Malik questioned, even as he tapped at the screen attached into his glove.

"We would," Damian responded, eyeing him warily.

"I'm Malik Wayne-Kent, this is my sister, Zaina Wayne-Kent, and we're from the future."

Silence hung over the cave after his words and Damian looked thoroughly shocked.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, speaking up. "Did you say, Wayne-Kent?"

"Yes."

Damian opened his mouth, shut it once, and then spoke. "Please tell me you are Drake's children?"

"Afraid not," Zaina said with a head shake. "You're our baba."

There was another several beats of silence, and then Bruce seemed to put two and two together.

"And your other parent is..... Jon?"

Malik nodded. "Pops."

"Which makes me your grandfather."

Another nod from Zaina.

"You're kidding me. If you're joking right now I'll-" Damian clenched his jaw and looked up at Jon.

"Wait, are you two.... What half of 2019 is this?" Malik asked. "Have you not started dating yet?"

Bruce opened his mouth, looking at his son, and then back at his future grandchildren.

"Oh, dear," Zaina said softly, leaning into her brother. "I don't think they have."

"Oops."

"Wait so you're telling me we get married?!" Jon exclaimed, shocked.

"Uh, well in our timeline you do. When we got spit out here, we created a separate time line from ours."

"And. She . . . She has powers," Jon said, pointing at Zaina.

"I was given them by Platinum kryptonite," Zaina explained. "You wanted to take them away, baba, but I managed to convince you otherwise."

"Sounds like something you'd do," Jon said, nudging Damian.

"Shush, Jon, this is important. We have to get them back to their timeline before we change anything else accidentally."

Bruce was sitting there in silence and then he looked to his son.

"Damian. Are you two dating?"

Damian winced slightly. "Just a few weeks ago...."

"... Okay. I'm going to go prep the jet. We'll head to the watchtower."

The four watched him walk away. Then Zaina looked at Damian.

"It's really odd seeing you guys do young," she said, smiling lightly.

"I imagine so... We really let you two be vigilantes?"

"You didn't really have a choice. I hacked into the cave and then we snuck out every night until you decided to just train us."

Damian and Jon didn't quite know what to do with their children, just kinda awkwardly looked at them.

Malik finally turned and walked away, over to the dino. "Man, this thing is so old."

"Okay, you young pup," Zaina said with a laugh, following after.

"So whose all what in this time line?" Zaina asked, looking over to Damian and Jon, who were whispering softly.

"Pardon?" Damian asked in a cold tone she wasn't used too.

"Uncle Dickie, he's.... Nightwing?"

Jon nodded, his arm was around Damian now.

"Dick's Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood. Cass is Black Bat, Barbara is Batgirl slash Oracle, Steph is Spoiler, and Tim is .... Drake," their pops explained. "Obviously we're Superboy and Robin, and Bruce is Batman."

"Bruce is dead in your timeline isn't he?" Damian asked, walking away from Jon and torwards them.

They exchanged a look, and then Malik nodded.

"There was an accident.... No one could stop it. I'm sorry," he said softly.

Damian shook his head, gently hugging Malik.

"No. I'm sorry. How old were you?"

"I was only five, Zaina was eight."

"I remember him more then Malik," Zaina offered, looking sad now.

Malik, hugging his baba back, looked up to Jon, who looked contemplative.

"But, again, we accidentally changed your time line, so that may not happen. Just like you two may not get married, and you may not adopt us."

"... As far as I'm concerned those seem like fixed points in time," Jon said.

Damian sighed and pulled back, giving Jon a look, and then he hugged Zaina.

"Who am I? In your time?"

"First and foremost your our dad," she answered. "But you're also a businessman and Batman. Once Malik is old enough, you're going to give him Batman."

Damian nodded as he considered this, but went silent, stepping back to stand next to Jon.

They had a very awkward flight to the Watchtower, Zaina and Jon quietly chatting about their powers, and what Zaina had developed so far. Malik sat next to Damian, silently working on his tech, as always. He was obsessive about keeping it updated, always changing the programing. Some of his features didn't work due to the lack of connection to the Wayne Satellites of the future, but enough of them did that he could still preform scans, bouncing off nearby cell phone towers.

"What's that?" Damian asked, watching him tap at the screen on his forearm.

"It's my control panel."

"For what?"

"My OTL."

"What."

"It's. . . Optical lenses in my mask, look."

Malik held it up, flicked on the blue lenses and then turned, looking at Zaina. On his screen, a digital display of a file popped up.

"I can also do this."

He triple tapped it and it was projected up into a hologram.

"Oh."

Zaina leaned forwards, arms on her brothers shoulders. "Malik's a genius. He programs all his tech himself. Even uncle Tim and Aunt Babs can't keep up with him."

Malik flushed, looking down. "I just like programming."

"You'd never guess it, from his public appearance, but he'd a major nerd. Jock Nerd type."

"Okay Prep Jock, shut your mouth."

Zaina giggled.

"So, what are you two's vigilante names?" Bruce asked from the cockpit.

"I'm Robin," Zaina answered, looking up to her grandfather. "But pops and I have agreed once my powers and are more consistent, I'm going to take up another name, Supergirl or something."

"And I'm Batboy, for now."

Bruce nodded slightly.

"I know you guys have a lot of questions, but I am afraid we won't be able to answer some of them," Malik said. "There's somethings I don't dare mess with, timeline wise."

"We understand," Bruce answered. "this isn't our first time messing with time travel."

The rest of the flight was awkward silence. They got to the watchtower and confused everyone they talked to.

"Where's Waverider?" Bruce asked J'onn, who was on duty at that moment.

"He has not been around for several-"

There was a burst of sparks and then suddenly Waverider appeared in front of them. He gave Malik and Zaina a startled look. They waved.

"You two are much bigger," he remarked.

"Well, that's what happens when you aren't hoping around the time stream," Zaina said with a grin.

"Your father's are probably waiting for you," he said, walking over to them. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Zaina backed away, and then spun to Bruce. "I know you don't know me. But... Can I just give you a hug?"

Bruce chuckled and nodded, opening his arms. "Come here."

She ran over, crashing into his body, hugging him tightly. Bruce gently hugged her, rubbing her back.

"It's okay, I don't know what happens, but I understand," Bruce said softly, kissing her head.

"I love you, grandpa," she murmured softly.

"And I can not wait to meet you again, little one."

Zaina pulled away, reaching up and adjusting her mask. Bruce looked to Malik and held open his arms. Malik immediately gave in and ran over, hugging him. They exchanged no words, just hugged. And then Malik stepped back, and Waverider grabbed onto both of them.

"Goodbye, and thank you," Zaina said to the younger versions of their fathers.

"Bye! Be safe!" Jon said with a grin.

And then they were gone.

They appeared back in their time, right in front of their fathers at the batcave. Damian jolted slightly, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Waverider?"

"Hey, Damian. Jon."

"What's up?" Jon asked, setting down his cup of tea.

"Oh, not much, found your kids in 2019. Figured you might like them back."

"Indeed we would."

"Well, see you around."

Waverider disappeared again. Malik sighed and pulled off his mask, walking forwards and hugging his baba.

"It's been a weird day, and I'm ready for bed. Good night baba, good night pops. I love you," Malik said, heading towards the locker room.

"Love you too, kiddo," Jon called after him.

They looked at Zaina. "So what happened?"

"I'll explain over some hot cocoa and smores."

[queenchaos]

So...I did a thing....

Ahhhh I’ve been so bored during these times that I went back through old art n my many DED DeviantArt accounts. I found this old beauty from 2013-14.... and I decided to redraw my girl in the middle

It’s me and two old friends during our TMNT phase in middle school. Kelsi (Sophie), Ella (Me Emma), and Tara (Sara). We’d actually call each other by these names and have over text Role plays....

Wrote fanfics bout us n everythin! Here’s the only one that I help with:

Kelsi gave a tiny wave to Donatello as he left with his brothers for patrol. He turned around and looked at her with pleading eyes. He had tried to convince them he needed to hang back, but now that Tara was here they decided to let her take over on watch patrol there. He glanced between the Shellraiser and his friend.

"You sure you don't want me to-"

"Nope! I'm fine, Tara will be here, and if I run into problems I can call. Just go, I can handle myself!" Tara gave a sharp nod and motioned with her hands for him to move along.

"Go on Don, I've got her." He hesitated before slipping inside and driving off. There was a moment of silence between the two cousins, smiles beginning to form on their faces.

"Is he gone?" Kelsi stretched her neck in an attempt to get a closer look. Tara ran over and peeked out.

"Gone, the taillights just disappeared." She looked back with a grin. "Ready?"

"Ready!" She snatched her laptop from underneath her wheelchair and opened the lid, browsing through the list they had made an hour earlier, complete with links and information underneath each case.

It wasn't that they were hiding this from the turtles they just…they wanted to do this on their own. If any of them figured out what it was they were up to, they were toast. No doubt that they would immediately be banned from continuing their new pastime, and life would go back to its former dull throbbing. There were nine pages worth of things to look at, and they couldn't choose for the longest time.

"We might want to start with something easy." Tara sighed, leaning back and scanning her eyes over the list. "I don't know, like maybe a missing cat."

"That's way too easy."

"Not for you." She teased. "But yeah, I know. What are you thinking?"

"Maybe bump it up a notch and try missing person?" Kelsi scrolled the cursor over the link to the site.

"You do realize you're on that list right?" Tara smirked. "Lucky me, I found Kelsi, how much money do I get?"

"Shut up." Kelsi threw her head back and laughed. "Just shut up, that's not funny."

She turned back to the screen while her cousin gave a fake pout. "Seriously, they'll be back in a few hours we need to pick something." She opened a link up to a case involving a missing car. It was merely out of curiosity, she had a feeling their first job would end up being a cat after all. She skimmed over the article and blinked in confusion, mumbling to herself.

"What is it?"

"Just reading, according to this article the car disappeared last Sunday when some hijacker stole it, but according to the owner, the car never left his garage."

"Pshh, well it's gone now, it had to end up leaving at one point or another." Tara leaned in closer to read the tiny print. "Footage? The guy kept six cameras in his garage? Must be quite the car."

"Yeah, it is actually." Kelsi opened up the picture attached. A cherry red Corvette that shone like the sun came up on the screen, and Tara could only cringe and suck in air through her teeth.

"Ouch, talk about money down the toilet."

"If there's a reward of over 1,000 dollars then he's not too hurt over it."

"One thousand?! For a Corvette?! This guy's trying to pull off some bargain, nobody's going to look for a Corvette with only one thousand dollars to gain."

"Nobody…except us."

"No."

"Tara! Come on!" Kelsi whipped her head around and pleaded, whining and shaking the monitor. "One thousand dollars, we can get it if we try!"

"Absolutely not. Not for that much money."

"We could weasel more out of him when we're done." Kelsi gave a grin. She wanted this really bad, Tara could tell. Though she didn't blame her, she spent a lot of time down there after all. The smell was beginning to become the norm for Tara. That was new.

"You are evil." Tara laughed.

"Come on, are you in or are you out?"

Tara hesitated. She wanted the money out of it, she wanted the adventure out of it, and she wanted to completely defy all rules she had been given in the past week. And finding that Corvette with her cousin could give her all of it. Kelsi held out her hand and raised an eyebrow, giving another annoying whiny plea. Tara sighed and shook her hand, letting another smile spread across her face.

"I'm in, let's go get that car."

Tara had her head phones plugged into her phone, simultaneously FaceTiming Kelsi as she walked down the streets of New York. It smelled like gasoline and crap, but she had started the mission and she was fine with it. The boys were on the other side of town, nothing could bother her as of right now.

“Okay, the garage should be coming up on your left,” Kelsi said. She was peering at the directions on her laptop and looking up to check on her cousin every two minutes. “There’s an alarm planted on every angle of it though, watch it.”

“How am I going to get in then?” Tara replied, making eye contact with her cousin through the screen. The resolution was fuzzy still, but she could manage. “I can’t take down all of the alarms, there are probably hidden ones.”

“Yeah, there are.” Kelsi began squinting at the screen again. “But you might be able to take them all out if you could disable the mainframe on the top floor.”

“I don’t know how to disable the mainframe Kels’, I’m not that smart.” Tara approached the building and crossed the street, leaning up against the side of it and pretending to smoke with a fake cigarette she had made a few minutes earlier. “I wish you could take it out for me.”

“I can’t, I would have to be there in person, besides, I’m not even sure I could accomplish that, I’m not terribly good with computers outside of error code fixes.”

“Then what do I do? I’m lost as to what you want from me here.” Tara peeked down the sides of the alleys, hoping nobody was listening in on their conversation. The feed went static, then came back in.

“You need to climb up the fire escape on the tattoo parlor next door and hop across to the roof of the garage.”

“Hop across? As in, jump-in-mid-air-and-land-on-the-other-rooftop across?”

“Yes, that kind of across? Cool?”

Tara swallowed a lump in her throat and shrugged, stuffing her fake cigarette back into her pocket. She found the fire escape and swung up trying to make as little noise as possible. It was really dark outside, but a few people roamed the streets checking out street vendors. Her main fear was either falling from the building or getting caught. She couldn’t choose which one was worse.

“I’m at the top.” Tara’s hair blew off to the side and she looked back down at her phone. Kelsi had her eyes fixed on her cousin with a weak smile and twitchy hands. “I’m going to jump now.”

“Just pray you don’t end up like me.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.” Her heart pounded as she approached the edge of the building and scuffed her foot on the concrete ledge. It definitely wasn’t comfy below, but she had to jump now or the entire mission would end. Was this even worth it? Self-doubt was incredible.

Tara gripped her phone tight, took in a deep breath, and pushed off. The first few seconds were slow motion, she couldn’t even tell she was falling or flying through the air. She didn’t dare open her eyes, she shut them tight enough for them to split. Her legs flailed around uselessly. She landed on the other rooftop with a solid thumping, and all the air in her lungs whooshed out with a grunt. Concrete again, she had made the jump.

“Yes! Tara you made it!” Kelsi clapped and gave a cheer.

“I…I need a moment.” Tara’s body shook with fear and her limbs ached, but she was more than proud that she had made it. She was okay now, she could complete the mission. After thirty seconds she managed to stop shaking and stand up again.

“Okay Tara, see the entrance?”

“No, there’s an air vent and weeds up here.” Tara said. “And a few dead cockroaches, ew.”

“About that air vent…hehe…”

“NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT, NOT IN A MILLION YEARS KELSI!” Tara glared at her phone, her cousin rubbing the back of her neck and whistling awkwardly.

“That’s the only way into the mainframe com-“

“NO! I AM NOT SQUEEZING THROUGH SOME DUMB AIR VENT, THINK AGAIN CHAPMAN!” Tara shook her head furiously. No way in no universe was anyone, especially Kelsi, going to force her down a stuffy air vent where she couldn’t breathe, and where she would get her arms stuck a moment later.

“Tara, there is literally no other way to get in, I’m sorry.”

“Then the deal’s off, I am not climbing through an air vent.” Tara shook her head and pursed her lips. “Not today, not ever.”

“Tara!” The whiny voice had come back, Tara hated that voice. “Please, don’t you want that money?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t worth a trip down that death hole air vent.”

“Tara, I didn’t want it to come to this but…climb down that air vent or I will tell Raph.” Kelsi had a slightly amused face now.

“I don’t really care if you tell him.” Tara shrugged.

“We aren’t talking about the same thing Tara. I’m talking about this mission, here and now. He will kill you.”

There was a moment of silence where they just stared at each other making strange faces and giving glares. “Don will kill you too to be honest.”

“No he won’t. I didn’t leave the lair. He would kill you though for leaving me down here alone. Options Tara, tick, tock.” Kelsi seemed really amused now, she had the worst poker face known to mankind. Tara stared at her with a hard glare.

“What if I told Donnie that you did something illegal?”

“I didn’t do anything illegal. That argument is invalid.”

“You’re assisting my break-in into some rich guy’s car garage.” Tara gave a smirk and crossed her arms. “So much for ‘invalid’ sister.”

“Why are we even talking about this, get into the air vent and get those tapes!”

Tara really hated this. She really hated this. There was nothing else for her to do, she didn’t fancy the idea of jumping across the buildings and climbing back down the fire escape again. She didn’t fancy sitting there waiting for the cops or Raph to find her either. She could always try climbing down the side of the brick building though. “I’m climbing down the side of the building and coming back, let’s get a new mission.” Tara headed over to the side and stuck one leg over when-

“Tara you’re a coward! Get in that air vent or I’ll tell them all you were a wimp when I reveal our mission!” Kelsi shouted.

“THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU KELS’!” Tara swung her leg back over and punched the lid off the vent, sliding her body inside. Hot and stuffy. Delightful. She crawled further down and it got cooler though, before she knew it she was directly above the entrance to the mainframe security, and she dropped in as quiet as a mouse. “What now?”

“There should be a power switch on the wall, flip that down.”

Surely enough, there it was, a big red switch she took pleasure in killing. The lights flickered out, leaving Kelsi’s FaceTime as the only source of light. “Now turn it back on, the computer should have corrupted.” And corrupted it was, error messages flashing on the screens, security cameras twitching, and not a single alarm going off.

“Genius. You’re a genius Kels-“

There was a soft thump behind her and she whipped around to face another girl about her age with medium length dark hair. She wore a jean jacket and black leggings, and she brushed off her legs with a huff. Tara’s heart leaped and she took a staggering step back. The girl looked up with a crooked smile and shoved her out of the way, opening the door to the garage and slamming it behind her.

“Get back here you punk!” Tara stuffed her phone in her pocket and ran after her, trailing the ear buds on the ground and nearly tackling the stranger on the concrete if it weren’t for her quick dodge and arm lock. “Let go of me you idiot, I will kill you right now!”

“Yeah, sure.” Her voice was soft and delicate. “I’m guessing you’re looking for the tapes on that Corvette too? Well they’re mine, thanks for taking security out for me.” She dropped Tara and ran to the back wall, stumbled up and freed one of the cameras from its plastic holders. Tara was red in the face and ready to kill.

“What right do you have?!”

“Every right, the same rights you have.” She landed softly back on the ground and gave another grin. “But your nerd forgot to tell you that there was only one camera working that night. And that’s this one.” She pointed at the device and sighed. “Such a shame you missed out on that money. Well, I’ll catch you later!”

“NERD?! EXCUSE ME!” There was a muffled shout from Tara’s pocket that she ignored. She reached in and hung up the call. Kelsi couldn’t bother her right now.

She made a dash for the exit but Tara grabbed her by the arm and slammed her into the ground. “No thanks, I think I’ll catch you later!” She snatched the camera and sprinted out the door and down the stairs to the exit. Her feet practically flew across the cement, but the same girl flipped over her and landed in front of her, hand outstretched.

“It was mine first.”

“I don’t care.”

“Who do you think you are?” She crossed her arms and glared.

“Tara. Nice to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me…” She ducked in-between her legs and kept running. “I have business to take care of!”

Tara hated this girl, she wanted to put a good nineteen feet between them and get back to the lair before any of the turtles came back. Patrol time was almost up. She could hear the footsteps behind her though, that idiot was going to follow her. She needed to lead her in the wrong direction.

She reached the bottom and skidded across the ground to the fire exit, but the girl yanked her hair, stole the camera, and pushed ahead again. Tara shouted and cursed, waving her fist and chasing after her, but the dark haired girl disappeared into the dark alleys across the street before Tara could catch her. A small piece of paper fluttered in the breeze, Tara figured it were just a shred of a magazine or newspaper. But instead it had handwritten words on it in silver sparkling pen ink. She snatched it from the wind’s grasp and fumbled picking her phone back up to redial Kels’. The note made her even angrier.

Have a wonderful day!

~Ella

Tara crumpled up the scrap and stomped on it, her breathing heavy again. She slipped back into the sewers and trudged through the raw sewage all the way back.

Ella was going to regret messing up her chance for the money.

She was going to regret it.

[senioritis2024]

The Pub

(Y/n)'s POV

"Come on, you have to come with me. I'll be bored without you and you need a break." You begged.

"You know I can't, besides, if I don't get my work done then I won't finish it before my deadline" She argued.

You couldn't believe it, your friend was freaking out about a project that had a deadline... IN 3 WEEKS. She was always super crazy about getting her work done but this was getting a little irritating and out of hand.

"(Y/b/f/n/n), you need to stop. It's not due for 3 weeks and you will get it done. I can bet you $50 that you will get it done before next weekend if you come and do this with me."

"What if I don't want to risk it? You know I will end up only thinking about work and I won't be any fun. Then you won't get to enjoy your night out."

"I don't care if you end up only thinking about work, as long as you go I will have fun. Now, no more arguing, we need to get dressed and you need to do our makeup. I would do it but it won't be nearly as good as if you do it." You said as you stood up from your bed and walked towards your closet.

"(Y/n)...." (Y/b/f/n) said, dragging out your name just to be dramatic.

You ignored her as you continued looking in your closet for something to wear tonight.

"Even if I go, which I haven't decided yet, I have nothing to wear and I am not wearing pajamas."

"No duh," You said as you walked out with a couple options for both you and (Y/b/f/n). "I refuse to let you look like a bum. Plus, I have a couple dresses that you could wear."

"Nuh-uh. I am not going to wear any of your clothes, I wouldn't be comfortable showing that much skin."

You had to bite your tongue to keep from calling your best friend out and saying she dresses like an old lady. You just felt a little more comfortable with your body than she does and so you would wear SLIGHTLY more revealing clothes than she would.

"(Y/b/f/n), I would never make you wear something slutty, but if you feel uncomfortable with what I pick out you can take one of my tank tops and wear it underneath. Okay?"

"Fine, but you seriously owe me big time."

"I'm fine with that. Now please pick something out while I get dressed." You said as you walked to your bathroom that was across the hall.

(Y/b/f/n)'s POV

Each dress was a little, and by a little I mean A LOT, out of my comfort zone. But I already gave into (Y/n) and I don't feel like being lectured again. I decided to look at the dresses, figuring that I could give them a chance. Each dress was stunning. The silver dress was a little low cut but it had sequins all over it that sparkled brightly in the light. The Navy dress was higher cut but a little shorter, however it was made of breathable fabric and happened to be my favorite color. The red dress was a satin fabric and cut a little lower than the blue but hugged my body in just the right places. I didn't want to admit it, but I loved the way this dress looked on me. I walk over to (Y/n)'s mirror and look at myself. Honestly, I actually look kinda cute and I wouldn't mind being seen in this dress.

"You look absolutely beautiful (Y/b/f/n/n)."

You jumped and turned around at your friend's comment as she walked in, wearing a gold, velvet dress and heels.

"You need to learn to knock. What if I was naked?"

"Two things; 1) You weren't and 2) This is my room. I have the right to barge in."

"Whatever." You said with a smirk as you turned back around to admire how you looked.

"Is that what you are wearing? Because if not you're going crazy."

"Yeah, I'll wear this. Do you have any shoes I can borrow?"

"Sure," Your friend said as she walked back into her closet, reappearing in seconds with a pair of gold, strappy sandals in her hands. "I know you can't walk in heels let alone be able to dance with me, so here."

"Thanks, how much time do we have until we have to leave?"

"About an hour, I figure it'll give you time to do our makeup and then we can leave. We should have enough time to get drinks before the band starts. Hopefully I can catch the drummer's eye tonight, maybe I can even take-"

"(Y/n), I love you but I don't think I wanna know all that." You say with a giggle.

"Okay, suit yourself," She said as she walked over to her vanity. "Just don't ask to be my maid-of-honor at the wedding."

You just ignored her last comment as you began folding your clothes from the day, putting them on (Y/n)'s dresser. While you did that, (Y/n) began putting on foundation and concealer.

"What do you want me to do for your makeup. Are we thinking a cut crease? Smoky? Solid? Glitter?" You asked, even though you knew she wouldn't care.

"I'm thinking maybe a Smoky eye look. But as long as you can do what you do best and make me look good, I don't care."

"Alright, head back," you said as you grabbed one of her makeup brushes and began coating it with a light brown eyeshadow. "Do you plan on telling me anything about this drummer yet or do I have to hear about it after your wedding?"

"Don't be silly. Even if I ever got mad at you, you will always be my maid-of-honor. Now, the real tea. He is the drummer of Smile, tall, blonde, muscular, and a certified player. Don't get me wrong, I know that he doesn't really have a good reputation but-"

You couldn't pay attention after then first few sentences, you got lost in thought about what you were going to do about your assignment from work. But you couldn't play it off too well because in seconds you hear,

"EARTH TO (Y/b/f/n)!!! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Don't even think about lying to me, woman. I know you inside and out and it's obvious that something is bugging you. What's wrong?" The mother-figure in your friend came out and you couldn't help but sigh at how true her last statement was.

"Fine....I can't stop thinking about work and what's going to happen if I don't get this project done in time. What if I forget about it tonight and get fired for not doing it? What if I-"

"You better stop right there. Back it up. Come back to reality. We just had this conversation honey. You are going to be fine. It's not like I'm asking you to give up on work forever, I am only asking you to hang out with me for tonight. I promise you that you will get it done."

"Okay," You say with a sigh. "You know, I hate when you're right."

"So you hate me all the time?" She asked.

"Obviously"

She gasped dramaticly and commented, "How rude!!"

You couldn't hold your laughter in anymore so you burst out laughing. (Y/n) tries to keep a straight face but she ended up laughing with you after a couple of seconds. As you guys kept talking and gossiping about (Y/n)'s most recent ex, your guys' makeup eventually got finished and you headed out to catch a taxi to the pub where Smile was playing.

~Time Skip To Before Band Starts Playing~

(Y/n)'s POV

"Can I please get a Whiskey Sour?" I asked.

"And may I get a........Cherry Coke?"

The bartender walked away to get your drinks and you turned to (Y/b/f/n).

"What was with the Cherry Coke? You feeling risky tonight?"

"Actually, yeah. Since I'm going to be out and about, I figured, why not step a little out of my comfort zone. Ya know?"

You had to try your hardest not to laugh at her. Instead you settled for a nod and a shake of your head. You and (Y/b/f/n) kept chatting and nursing your drinks until the lights lowered and four men climbed onstage. One guy had big, brown curly hair and an electric guitar in hand. Another had light brown, wavy long hair and carried a bass. The lead singer went up front with shoulder length black hair and big teeth. Then the drummer went on back to his drum set and scanned the crowd as he sat down on his stool. When his eyes met yours, he sent you a wink and a smile that could melt you on the spot. But you weren't going to be that easy. You knew he was going to try and find you after by the look on his face when you sent him a smirk. This is going to be a fun night.

Hello guys! Thank you for reading this and I want you guys to know that the beginning might start off slow but it will get pretty interesting as is goes on. I will be trying to post chapters every Sunday if not they will be posted by every Tuesday. My wattpad account will be linked below and once I start posting my other story, some sneak peeks will be released for you guys. Thank you for reading this and I hope you guys have a nice week. Please reblog so this story gets around. Thank you and see you next Sunday. -M

[loveceleste]

Lost in Inkling; Part I

'I miss you.' 'I miss you too.' 'Are you okay?' 'You already asked that Issa'

Damn, I wish I had a tall, ambitious, white teeth smile, sexy ass man like Lawrence. Dramatic I know, but a man who would love me so much that he changes himself is the one you let pay some light bills and stick around for a while.  There's just no way I'd fuck that up. 

It's the second time I've watched Episode 8 of Insecure. Dressed in my 2011 Destin Beach spray paint T-shirt and black sweat pants, with my trusty wine in my left hand and my laughing stick in the right. I still can't wrap my mind around how she got bored with an idealistic man who always mentions her when speaking of his dreams. Gahhh! Heart Eyes! Okay, its the seventh time I've watched it. Don't judge me, but I get a slight satisfaction knowing there are more lost and single, almost 28 year olds, that fear to be an eternal solitarian who practices faithfulness. Despite the increasing popularity of two-timing. It’s almost like people want to catch the Monkey virus. Either way, I really need to let Insecure go. The show I mean. Well, I need to let go of my own too but after Jermaine, I've been bathing in regret and drying in self-loath. Then I lotion in confidence and dress in 'fuck these niggas', only to go out and witness a known married man all hugged up with some tramp. Then I come home and accept marriage was put on my blueprint for 1962 and I should just adopt 9 dogs, since I attract them anyway.     

                             *ring ring*         

Should I answer? or no? After throwing my phone like Jackie in a third inning last week, I broke my phone screen at an ineffective attempt to calm my rage. Plus, I hate answering calls when I'm not fully prepared. I did get slightly excited since nobody calls my phone but appointment reminders or those 'press 1 if this is Janeice Pothucker'  *1*  'you have missed 7 payments'  *disconnect call*. But It was only my overzealous best friend Quinn.                                                                      

"You okay, Lanie? I haven't heard from you since Tuesday."  She said sounding extremely concerned. "Quinn, its only Wednesday night, you act like you weren't just over here drinking up all my Pinot Nior. You owe me $20 too." I said sternly. "Well you taking to long to call me and I got some 'It was all a dream' juicy news to tell you, bitchhh!" "Bitchhh like Miracle Watts juicy or Deelishous Juicy?" "Nah Nah, darker berry sweet, like Bernice juicy with a little Big Booty Judy cause it's a throw back." "Ahhh I am excited now, Tell me!" "You remember James from Liberty High?" "Afro James or Sling Ding James?" "Lanie, the audacity you have to think I would have any exhilarating announcement involving the likes of Sling Ding Pencil miss holes James!" "Wouldn't put it past you" I said slyly. "Fuck you!"   We laugh for a few moments. "No no. Its the quiet one who came the middle of junior year and played football. Really cute. I had a crush on him until me and Rich got back together and then I caught him with Hoe Lay?" "Ohhhh," I said remembering "He was so sweet and had the cutest smile! What about him?" "Well I ran into him at the mall earlier and we started talking and catching up on missed time or whatever and BOOM, He asked me on a date, a real live date!" "Like a real real live date?" I asked for reassurance. "Yes bitch, We going to Ruth Chris this weekend."                                              I am genuinely happy for Quinn, but it seems like whenever I go through a hard break up, every one around me magically becomes the most un-single, deep in love earthlings ever! Its just not fair. "Lanie, " She said breaking the silence of my deep thought. "Did you hear me? We're going to Ruth Chris! The $60 dollar per person place we would only think of going during tax season. I think I'm going to order a salad so I won't look to greedy, what you think?" "I think if he wants to spend $60 on you let him spend it!" "I knew you would say that you're greedy like me, I'm about to send you a picture of what I picked out to wear." "My screen is on black out, but send it anyway and I'll look at it after I come from the Sprint store tomorrow." "Damn, I forgot. Okay, I'll call you later.” She paused. “And I ain’t paying you shit!” she said laughing right before hanging up the phone. The next morning, I dress for work in my sexy black lawyer pant suit with my "move bitch" pumps to try and redeem myself after looking like a depressed, lament bum this whole week. Despite my attempts to lift my soul out of Desparia, I’ve been cutting people off in mid conversation and hiding in my office all day. Maybe some fresh air will do me good. During my lunch break I head over to Sprint to see about having my phone brought back to life. When I entered the store, they either thought I stole $82 from their wallets or I was the announcement of Beyoncé's twin pregnancy. Either way, even in my shitty mood, I didn't mind the attention. I proceed to the empty front desk so I can add my name to the wait list. I'm sure no one wanted to approach me since I had the 'y'all bitches better not have me waiting to long' look on my face. After a long 67 seconds of standing there riled, this skin smooth, dark chocolate, gym 4 days a week built brother approaches me. I think he was saying something to me. I'm not really sure and he may think I was being rude, but really I was in distress over his full lips slowly rising to display his straight solid white smile.                   "Ma'am are you alright?" I finally closed my slightly opened mouth and shook off the hypnosis. “What can I help you with?” "huh?... oh yes umm.. I need to see about getting my phone fixed. I dropped it and my screen has been black since." Realizing my daydreaming, he let off a half smile. Damn, that half smile was deadly! "Sure thing, Can I get your name?"   "Lanie," I couldn't help but examine his fresh cut and perfect symmetrical face. This may just be me, but its something about a man looking down while I look at the top of his head, reminds me of....never mind.   "hmm, I don't see you in here, have you been to this location before?"   "Oh yeah, try Janeice, Janeice Pothucker." "Found you. Is your phone number 615-364-0741?" "Yes, that's me." He paused for a moment.   "Cool, it looks like we don't have anyone ahead of you for the technician, so follow me to the back and I'll get you all set up with Mike." We walk to the back to the area of the large room where all the techs were sitting behind the glass. For a moment I forgot where I was. It felt like he was leading us to our table, a dinner for two at my favorite live music restaurant, Sambuca. Dim lights and subtle jazz in the background and nothing but an intellectual exchange between us two. Discussions range from Angela Davis quick-witted way out of prison in the 60's to if Tupac really is alive and well in Cuba. The technician advised the phone fix will only take 15 minutes since all of the parts are in store. I stuck around, of course. I walked around looking at the latest phones and gadgets they had laid out for display. The Samsung galaxy s8 plus appealing frame caught my eye, might add to my list of future purchases. As I am going through the phone messages, by nature, I feel a set of eyes gazing at me. I look up to make sure the technician wasn't trying to get my attention, but he was in the back somewhere unseen. I slowly rotate by placing my right foot behind the left and did a ballerina spin. It felt necessary at the moment to slyly look around without making an obvious attempt to scan the room. Somehow in the midst of my spin I sped up and I forgot I had the new s8 in my right hand that was attached to a cord on the counter. The cords elasticity spun me back facing the counter, forcing me to loose my balance. Don't worry, I landed perfectly on the left side of my face. Smooth. I was so embarrassed! I wanted to run out the store like I just got my chain snatched by Debo. Before I could fully open my eyes, Donny Savage look-a-like is gently grabbing my right arm helping me up. Strange, because I could of sworn before my failed pirouette I saw his melanated reflection in the corner of my peripheral on the other side of the room. "Are you alright?" "You like that question. Yes I'm fine, I just lost my balance. Thanks....Solo." Glancing at his name tag. "Well I'm no doctor but it look like you're going to have a nasty knot on your left temple. We've got some ice in the back I can get you some." "No No, I'm fine really, thanks." I said pained as I gathered my purse and a few of my unmentionables that scattered in my fall. "I'm just embarrassed." I mumbled. "No need to be embarrassed, I fell down a flight of stairs just last week." Fuck! He heard me. "I didn't get to witness you fall so it doesn't count." I managed to say with a chuckle. "Do you dance?" He asked. "Huh?" "Dance," He reiterated. "from over there it looked like you were about to hit a nice spin." "You noticed from all the way over there?" His face said it all, I found my star gazer. "Mrs. Pothucker, your phone is ready." yelled the phone technician saving Solo from an explanation. "It's Ms. Pothucker, and thank you." "You're Welcome. Insurance covered everything so you're good to go." "Thank you. Have a nice day." "You as well, Ms. Pothucker." I started for the door. I was still embarrassed from my fall to look Solo's way so I sped up hoping my arms weren't bouncing behind me. "Ms. Pothucker," I turned around recognizing the deep waved, Godly voice. " have a nice day" "You as well, thank you again." He nodded. Fine ass! I hopped in my white Cherokee and scurried back to work with a satisfied smile on my face. Its good to know I wasn't the only one looking.