#and realized no one is normal in the family

[girlgenius1111]

hallmarks of sisterhood

putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.

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Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 

It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 

As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 

All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 

-------

“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.

“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 

Alba flushed red with anger. 

“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 

“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”

“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 

“You are such a-”

“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 

“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 

“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 

“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 

“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 

When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 

Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 

“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”

“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  

“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 

“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 

“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.

“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 

It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 

“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 

“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 

You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 

They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 

You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 

You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 

------

You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 

Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 

Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.

“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 

“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 

“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 

“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 

“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 

“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 

“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 

“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 

As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 

If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 

This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 

------

The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 

You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 

If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 

You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 

Alexia had responded first. 

It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.

Alba responded after that. 

You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.

You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.

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You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 

You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 

You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 

“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 

You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 

“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 

You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 

“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 

“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 

Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 

You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

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You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 

That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 

The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 

You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 

You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 

You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 

You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 

You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 

More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 

Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 

You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 

They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.

 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 

“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 

“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 

You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 

Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 

Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.

You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 

A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 

“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 

“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 

“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 

You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 

-------

Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 

She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 

“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 

Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 

Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 

Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 

“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 

Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 

Eli chuckled. “I will.” 

She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 

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You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 

“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 

“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 

“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 

Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 

-------

It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 

Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.

“Mami, I-”

“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 

“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 

“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”

“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 

“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 

“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 

Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 

Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 

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Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 

Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 

Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 

It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 

“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 

“We really did.” Alba replied. 

“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 

“We really do.” Alba agreed. 

“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 

“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 

Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 

“New car?” 

“New house?”

“Can we buy her a country?”

They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 

-------

The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 

You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 

“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 

“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 

“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 

Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 

“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 

“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 

“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 

“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 

“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 

Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 

“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 

Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 

“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 

Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 

“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 

“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 

“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 

“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 

“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 

At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 

“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 

With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 

Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 

“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 

Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 

-------

Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 

Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 

“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 

Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 

Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 

Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 

“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 

It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 

“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 

You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 

You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 

Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 

Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 

Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 

Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 

It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 

You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 

You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 

“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 

They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 

“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 

“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  

And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 

When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 

It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 

-------

Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 

And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 

“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 

“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 

Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 

“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 

“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 

“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 

“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 

Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 

“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 

Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 

Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 

-------

it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.

everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.

hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.

[mammons-lover]

PEOPLE WHO SHIP THE BATFAMILY TOGETHER ARE WEIRD AS FUCK!! Especially Bruce x THE CHILDREN HE ADOPTED!!! Why is he fucking the kids HE RAISED!! Another one I saw that made me want to post this was DAMIEN X JASON WTF!! They may not be blood related but they are family!! Plus they used Damien as a MINOR!!! Omg and another one I saw yesterday was a A/B/O of the batfamily fucking each other and the description was like and *Damien is 16 in this so yeah* why are people so freely writing pedophilia it’s disgusting, and why isn’t there post getting taken down you are openly writing about children.

Sorry but another thing that horrified me was a do and don’t list about what a writer will write about. Now it’s was normal at first like they’ll write about, fxf, mxm, fluff, smut,angst. Then they add “pedophilia if they feel like it”…HUH. FYM WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE IT!!! GO GET SOME HELP IF YOU FEEL LIKE WRITING THAT SHIT!! I’m all for writing whatever you want but at some point you have to realize you are the problem, and if you are writing pedo shit for fun or to get people turned on you are blatantly promoting that shit and it’s sad.

(Disclaimer for the people in the back: I’m not saying that if you write this shit you are a pedo, you could be idk😭 but if you aren’t you kinda promoting that shit)

My reactions when I see those post:

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 25

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

---

“So you are saying that the Infinite Realms’ government is organized like a dungeons and dragons party?”

Danny snorted and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Jazz’s idea, actually.”

From where she was quietly talking with Bruce, Jazz huffed. “I never said it was a dungeons and dragons party. I only suggested the organization that fit our strengths better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Potato, potahto.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, but went back to her discussion.

The group was walking towards the gardens, where a light lunch was served. Time went by as the Waynes asked anything and everything about the Realms and their rulers, now that there were no more secrets between them. They talked about Sam and Tucker and Valerie and even about Danielle, her origins and how she joined the team included.

The Fenton siblings enjoyed oversharing in a way that felt weird to the vigilantes, so used to hiding and concealing their thoughts all the time. Now that they were more comfortable, Danny and Jazz didn’t hesitate to act more inhuman around them, with the younger sibling floating when he got excited as if it was the more normal reaction.

It reminded Bruce of his colleagues in the Watchtower break room goofing around and using their powers for the stupidest reasons.

When Tim rejoined them, this time alone, he was more annoyed about losing the bet than missing the ghost royalty status reveal. Danny thought that was the funniest thing, and gladly started a new stream of oversharing information about Jazz’s princess status and all the titles she held, ignoring his sister’s attempts at silencing him.

They didn’t even notice lunch time approaching until Alfred reminded everyone in the house that they had to eat — yes, even their inhuman guests. The last part was added with a pointed glare and a short nod before the man walked away.

So now they were making their way to lunch, which was served outside given the nice weather despite being way into fall, chatting about Team Phantom and their roles in detail.

“So Sam is like the Barbarian of the team?” Tim pressed on. “And Tucker is the Artificer.”

Jazz huffed again.

“We are not—”

“Actually, is not that far from the truth,” Danny chuckled, “but not exactly just that. All of us are at least trained in one main duty and act as a backup for someone else. That guarantees that if one of us has to leave, nothing will be left unattended.”

“Like with Jazz being here.”

He nodded. “Jazz helped Tucker with all the record keeping and research in magical theory, as well as diplomacy and ghost law studies. Valerie helped Jazz with her main duties, and so on and so forth.”

“Magical theory?” Jason asked, one eyebrow arched. “Ghost law?”

“Sounds cool but it's actually just reading a bunch of books and trying to guess what they say.” Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. “I swear there is nothing that can make me pass out faster than reading those fuckers.”

“That’s because you don’t do your homework. Dorathea is a very good teacher.” Jazz chimed with a mocking smile.

Duke interrupted when Danny jumped to answer. “You said that the books weren’t Jazz’s main duty, so what is it?”

The young woman tensed for a second before putting on a gentle smile. It didn’t fool anybody, though. “I am—”

“Jazz.”

She turned towards her brother. “What?”

“Jazz, look.”

She frowned at his serious tone, the boyish glee gone completely, but turned to look at what he was pointing at.

It was a giant painting on the other wall of the room they just passed by, which was featuring a small family — a woman, a man and a child. All three were wearing nice clothes, serene smiles for the portrait.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce stepped closer to see what they were seeing, tensing when he realized what it was. “Why are you pointing at my parents’ portrait?”

The siblings looked at each other. “That’s your mother?” Jazz finally asked.

The look Bruce gave her was equal parts worried and calculating. “Indeed.”

Again Danny and Jazz talked to each other with facial gestures and looks.

“It can’t be.” Danny murmured. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Hey.” Jason grabbed Jazz’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

She glanced at her brother, frowning. She licked her lips and drew a long breath. “That’s Lady Gotham.”

One second passed by. Two seconds.

“No, that’s my mother.”

Dick giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Could she be wearing someone’s face?” Jazz ignored Bruce’s quiet breakdown to talk to her brother. “Or is it like ‘the Spirit passes down ownership’ kind of situation?”

Danny hummed. “I don’t think it is the second case,” he crossed his arms, “she felt like an Ancient and this woman couldn’t have been dead that long.”

“Are you saying that an ancient spirit is wearing my mother’s face?” The older man said, voice small. Even Jason frowned at the weakness in his tone.

Jazz seemed to snap back to reality and noticed that the conversation may not be the best given current company. She sighed. “We don’t know. Maybe. Was your mother special in any way for this city?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard about the Martha Wayne foundation? Or all the charity stuff in her name?” Tim scoffed. “Do you live under a rock?”

Jazz blushed. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to current events outside my work and Crime Alley.”

Jason pretended to try to hide his smile in Jazz’s hair as he pulled her for a side hug.

Danny made a face at the pair, shook his head and turned towards Bruce. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but it’s not unheard of for an ancient Spirit to change their appearance. It’s usually to fit in as time passes; but taking the face of a real person from their hunt?” He tilted his head, and Jason noticed the similarity with his sister. It was adorable. “That’s a new one for me.”

“We can always ask?” Jazz tried to move past her misstep.

“Do you really think she’d want to talk about that?”

“Maybe. If we ask nicely.” Neither sibling actually believed these words.

Bruce blinked slowly and started walking again, lost in thought. The rest followed as if nothing even happened.

“Is she really that scary?” Duke asked.

“She is…,” Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck, “she is surely something else. This city is cursed, man; so it doesn’t surprise me that the Spirit overseeing this place is just as cursed.”

“What Danny is trying to say,” Jazz jumped in, “is that the Spirit of Gotham has been deeply corrupted and, well, she’s definitely in pain, and sometimes she lashes out.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” her brother scoffed, shaking his head and not looking at anybody. “I don't know what nice and watered down version of the story Jazzy here told you guys but when we first came here, she was pissed. King or no King, she was ready to kill me.”

Jazz blushed again. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Danny rolled his eyes.

She looked like she had something to say, but chose to close her mouth and ignore the chuckles.

They finally arrived at the nice backyard patio where a table was already set up for lunch. Alfred walked around the table with his cart, setting down the plates and giving the finishing touches to the display.

Nobody missed his little smile watching them naturally divide in groups and sit down together, his eyes lingering on Jason refusing to let go of his girlfriend’s hand even under said girlfriend’s brother's snarky comments about it.

It had been a while since the Manor was filled with noise like this. It felt… alive. Like how it was supposed to be.

The old man quietly grabbed his cart and went back inside to plate the second course for the meal. He didn’t glance at the moving shadows and the trickster reflections on the corner of his eyes — after so many decades serving at this Manor, this family, he got used to not being exactly alone inside those walls.

***

“I don’t know how you are going to break it to Frighty.”

Jazz froze mid bite, frowning as she swallowed the food. “What do you mean?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Danny’s shocked expression. The young man looked around the table, maybe looking for support or an explanation, but he probably forgot they just met that morning.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jazz, Fright Knight has been courting you for around a year.”

Tim froze, glancing up to see Jason’s reaction. Expecting loud shouting to start, he was even more shocked when Jason leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms with a giant smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Jazz leaned in, glaring at her brother on the other side of the table.

“Hold on a second,” Dick pushed his empty plate aside to lean closer to Danny, “Fright Knight? The King’s right hand man? The Aspect of Fear?”

“That’s the one!”

“I don’t—” Jazz blinked, “I don’t know— How? When?”

“Uhhhh, since the first siege, I believe?” Danny's smile went from one ear to the other. “He said, and I quote, ‘I had never felt such things in battle before. Lady Jasmine’s war cries pierced my chest deeper than her lance pierced our enemies’.”

Tim shuddered. It was the way Danny impersonated this Fright Knight’s sickening dreamy voice.

“The first siege? That was more than two years ago!”

“And you haven’t noticed this guy being in love with you?” Jason spoke for the first time, grinning at his girlfriend.

“I don’t know?” Jazz threw her hands up. “I thought he was being nice!”

“For a whole year?”

“He’s been giving you courting gifts, Jazz!” Danny said, incredulous. “And you accepted them!”

“So those were courting gifts?”

“What were those gifts?”

“Swords.” Danny answered Jason. “Shiny blades. Ornamental and functional. Jazz has a collection back in the Realms.” He turned towards his sister. “Which, by the way, people keep sending gifts for you. I think they think that you are the ‘reasonable’ one of us and if they send you more swords you’d be more merciful.”

“I don’t need more swords.”

“You liar. You love swords.”

Jazz blushed, unable to say otherwise. “Still nothing he did told me he was interested.”

“Ancients, Jazz,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone knew he was head over heels for you. We thought you were preferring to deal with it in private.”

Her blush became worse. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands fidgeting with her napkin. “You know I don’t do all the romance stuff.”

Incredulous, Danny just pointed at Jason. “And how do you explain him?”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, “different. Unexpected. We just— we clicked.”

“Awww.”

Danny made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dick and Cass’ cooing.

“Well. I’m not going to be the one dealing with all that. Frighty is all yours.”

Jazz sighed. “I’ll talk to him when I go back to the Realms.”

“Hm.” Danny hummed, suddenly lost in thought as he sipped his water. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I said: Maybe you don’t have to.” He spoke louder. “Come back, I mean.”

She did a double take. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny took a second longer than what was expected. “You can stay here.” He leaned back on his seat, putting as much distance as he could from his sister. He was also evading her eyes. “Permanently.”

There was only the sounds of the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the wind flowing between the leaves for a few seconds.

“Are you—” Jazz’s voice was careful, low, “Are you firing me?”

Half the table was looking at Danny and the other half had their eyes glued on Jazz’s face. Her rage, while quiet, was familiar to those witnessing the moment — betrayals, infightings and disbelief ran though their minds as they remembered similar situations in their pasts.

“Jazz—”

“After everything you just— What the hell Danny?”

“I’m not— Could you at least look at me?” She did, and everyone could see her watery eyes. “It’s for your own good.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jazz’s expression turned murderous as the tears escaped her eyes. She stood up, teeth grinding, breathing deeply a few times before she opened her mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” She crossed her arms.

Danny looked like he wished he was anywhere else but in that room at that moment. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that.” He slowly repeated.

“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she was still mad.

“What I wanted to say is…” He sighed and lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at— You know I always mess these things up— Okay, okay I’ll get to the point.” He quickly added under Jazz’s narrowing eyes. He breathed in, breathed out. “I want you to stay here. In the living world. As long as you want.”

She processed his words, and slowly sat back down. The sounds of nature around them picked up like nothing happened, even if no one had noticed their rather unnatural silence.

“But you said…”

“I know. But things have changed, Jazz. I want you to stay. How could I not be okay with that?”

“But— But my role— And the Archives, and Walker, and—”

“Everything can wait. Or, I don’t know, we’ll deal with it.” He leaned in and took one of her hands in his. “We told you to come here because you really needed a vacation, and I stand by it. The Keep can wait for you. I can wait for you.”

“But—”

“Jasmine Fenton. You have given up everything for me. You were not meant for any of this ghost bullshit or war or fist fighting gods in a Denny’s parking lot. But you gave me a decade of that, and I appreciate it, but that’s enough. You can rest now, you can have nice things. You deserve it.”

Nobody missed when Danny gave Jason, and quick look around the people on the table, when he mentioned the “nice things” she could have.

Jazz opened her mouth only to close it again, more tears coming to her eyes. Her cheeks tinted red, maybe from embarrassment, maybe for remnants of her anger.

She yanked her hand from her brother’s and rushed to her feet, taking a shaky breath.

“Excuse me.”

Jason frowned, watching her go back inside the house and probably looking for a place to calm down.

He felt a kick on one leg.

“Go.” Danny interlaced his hands on the table and nodded in his sister’s general direction. “She needs you.”

Jason’s frown deepened, but he obliged without saying a word.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious under Danny’s stare. The young man didn’t look affected by what just happened like his sister was, but his eyes betrayed the conflicted emotions he hid behind his mask.

“I’m sorry you guys had to witness that. I should have waited until we got home. My bad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but it felt like forced nonchalance.

“That was sure something.” Dick commented after clearing his throat.

“I apologize but I need to ask,” Bruce leaned in. “Jasmine seemed pretty adamant her time here was limited, that she would sooner or later have to leave everything here. What changed?”

“Did she tell you that?” Danny made an incredulous face and scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even need to ask. I don’t know why I keep being surprised by her antics.”

“So it’s not true?”

What else had she been lying about? A tiny voice said in the back of Bruce’s head. He tried to ignore it, but given the drastic differences between Danny’s and Jazz’s behavior, he was wondering what was the actual picture and what was the siblings’ casual omission of truth.

“It was true, but only because she herself sets those limits. Jazz is…,” he sighed, deflating on his seat, looking at the sky, “I love my sister, and a lot, but she takes everything too seriously.”

Or you don’t take things seriously enough, Bruce thought, but chose not to say it.

“I never said she had a time limit, or that she had to turn her back on the living world for the rest of her life. We sent her ass to the Arkham internship because she doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“Arkham is a break?” Tim asked what had been lingering in everyone’s heads. The siblings kept referring to working at the worst psychiatric criminal facility, a vacation and a break.

Danny scoffed again, turning his eyes towards the young man. His smile wasn’t kind. “You guys haven’t put it together? The kind of role Jazz has in the Realm. The kind of person she… The kind of person I asked her to become.”

There was deep guilt in his voice, and in the way he couldn’t hold his gaze. Danny fidgeted with his napkin, letting the birds sing the tension of his silence away. They were waiting on him to elaborate, and he knew that, but was building the courage to speak.

“Do you guys know how powerful I am? No, you don’t,” he answered himself with a shrug, “because there’s no one like me. I could— If I wanted to, I could bring this city, the whole city, into the Infinite Realms. Just like that.

If I wanted to I could end the war with a snap of my fingers. I could Order every ghost-adjacent being to follow my every command and bring peace via total domination. Or,” he stopped his fingers, sighing, “I could just rip their cores with a thought and crush them with another and be done with Vlad and with every stubborn ghost that thinks I don’t deserve to be King.”

He finally glanced up at Bruce, as if he knew all these scenarios passed though the man’s head as he spoke. “Imagine that — Every conflict, every war, I could wish it away in seconds.”

The older man nodded, following his speech. “And yet you are here.”

Danny’s vulnerable smile reminded him so much of Clark’s. “I can’t. I can’t do that. If I— If I just eliminate every little thing in my way, what kind of person would I be? I’ve seen it happen, Bruce. I know what I could be if I lose perspective of who I really want to be.”

Cass lifted her hand like she was in a classroom. “Jazz. She’s your anchor.”

Danny went back to looking at his hands, shoulders sagging. In shame? In defeat? “All of them keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m drifting away from who I used to be. But Jazz? She knows what needs to be done, what I’m scared to do. She knows she can handle the guilt and the nightmares and the horror.”

He took a long breath to calm himself. “Jazz is what I can’t— what I won’t be, and she took that burden like it was nothing. She has always done that, taking the bad things and dealing with them for me. It’s just… This time, the ‘bad things’ are a little bit more permanent.”

It made sense now. How she avoided talking about it, how Jazz tensed when she was asked what her role was. How she was so comfortable at Arkham.

“She’s your Executioner.”

Danny flinched at Bruce’s words. “She’s that and more. She became a counterpart for me, a shadow, so I could shine in the spotlight. A symbol.” He said the word like it was a curse. Bruce didn’t miss the twitch in his eyebrow. “Do you know why her armor is bright red?” His smile wasn’t kind when he looked up. “The Infinite Realms are green. She stands out and attracts all the attention in battle so the rest of us can be the heroes of the hour.” He chuckled. “She never wanted any of this. She didn’t defeat the previous King, she wasn’t even there. I know my childhood could have been way worse if she wasn’t in my life, and I’m grateful, but I kept asking more and more from her and now—”

“Do you really think I didn’t want this?” Jazz’s voice cut through Danny’s rambles. “I chose to stay, Danny.”

He didn’t react when he saw her walk in, her face puffy and her eyes still wet. Did he know she was listening? Of course he did — from what the vigilantes could gather so far, Danny’s abilities were up there with Superman’s. Maybe even more.

“Don’t.” He frowned. “I can see right through your bullshit, Jazz. There wasn’t that much of a choice and you know it.”

She bit her lips, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she pulled on her joined hands with Jason’s so they approached the table and sat down.

After settling in her seat, she breathed in, breathed out and smiled. “You are making me sound like some kind of demon or something.” Nobody bought the lightness of her tone.

Danny caught her deflection and chose to follow. He scoffed. “And you are not?” He made a gesture with his hands, placing them on the sides of his head with his pointer fingers up, imitating his sister’s headpiece.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not—”

“Jazzy, fear incarnate is in love with you. He let you ride his horse!” He smirked at Jason. “Not an euphemism.”

He caught on what the siblings were trying to do and turned towards his girlfriend. “You never told me about any horse, darling.”

“Nightmare was a strategic move. Frighty knows I can’t fly like the rest of you and it could give me an advantage during battle.”

“Nightmare? Seriously?” Jason asked.

“Big black horse with wings.” She quickly explained with a shrug. “Breathes fire.”

“Are you serious? Fright Knight doesn’t let me even touch his horse and I’m the King!” He threw his hands up in the air. “That being said, he doesn’t challenge me as much as he does with you, and thanks the Ancients for that.”

“Wait. Wait a second. Are you saying—”

Danny’s smile grew like a Cheshire Cat’s. “Ooohhhh. You didn’t know? Did you forget the one basic fact about ghost nature, Jazzy-pants? Ghost’s love language is fighting.” He said the last part imitating her voice, like she was giving a lecture of some kind.

“Oh? Tell me more?” Jason leaned towards Danny, head leaning on one hand, completely enraptured by the information his girlfriend’s brother shared so easily.

“And he wasn’t pulling any punches either. Before I learned he was formally courting her, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight her to death or marry her!”

“He could do both if he’s not a coward.” Jason shared the smile with Danny, ignoring Jazz’s hands pushing his shoulder away from her.

“Hey!” Jazz protested, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Wait until I tell you about The Ballad of the Red Demon.” Danny also ignored his sister, and the eyes of the rest of the Waynes, as he summoned a notebook with more green flames. He cleared his throat, opened the notebook and started reading:

“The fire in her eyes burned brighter than any sun, as the sharp edge of her blade pierced your chest to meet your untimely end.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her burning fury will consume you in a blaze hotter than the Realm’s Core.

There she rides the winged Dark Horse as her cries call for the blood of her enemies, bright green eyes already searching for the next target.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her siren’s call will be the last thing you hear before you draw your last breath.”

“What in the Ancients is that?” Realization came to the young woman. She slapped the table and stood up. “Ghost Writer?”

Danny nodded. “He gave me the first draft to approve before getting into editing.” He shook the notebook closer to his sister. “There’s a chapter for each of us, don’t think it’s just about you.”

He rolled his eyes and reopened the notebook, getting ready to continue reading, but Jazz jumped and reached across the table trying to snatch the notebook before he continued. He managed to float away just in time to prevent her from taking it from him, and quickly flew high enough that she couldn’t reach him, but close enough that he was almost within reach.

“Awww, you don’t want our new friends to know about your feats during the last siege? About—” he glanced at the text, quickly murmuring words under his breath, “‘Her fiery hair glows like a damned halo’ and ‘sharp blade like a gentle kiss of death’ something something ‘crushing enemies under her foot’.”

Jazz was trying to jump high enough so she could catch her brother, her face crimson red as the others chuckled at the scene.

Finally, taking pity on her, Jason reached for the book as Danny was distracted reading the next stanza and seized it away from the floating Fenton.

“Thank you.” She breathed in relief, extending her hand so he could give her the notebook.

With a tiny smile, he opened it and tried to read too, but it was written in symbols he felt he recognized but couldn’t read.

“Do you have an official translation yet or do I have to wait?”

---

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[conflictofthemind]

Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"

Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes

I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.

In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.

Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.

The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).

That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.

Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.

Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.

Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.

I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.

But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.

He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.

It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.

"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".

[atinylittlepain]

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 

“So, you do live around here then?”��

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.” 

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.” 

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.” 

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 

[nunalastor]

Dark found family

(3 am brainrot got to me please help)

we’ve established that Charlie kinda does figure out that this is wrong and stuff, and there’s a fairy tale quest with the overlords getting all the keys throughout hell. And the overlords get to the hotel and each and every one of the hotel gang (Angel Dust, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty) just gives up their key because they know that this is WRONG. What if Charlie does the same thing and that’s what gets the overlords to kinda sorta forgive her. (But then they did an entire quest for nothing! NOTHING!) cue song apology (this is actually a recap of all their (Charlie and Lucifer’s) war crimes) (I feel this would be cannon for Charlie) (maybe not) so yeah. They go to the DOOR™️ and instead of inserting all the keys together because that would take a while and time is of the essence, they do Charlie’s instead. Because the DOOR™️ was probably made by Lucifer, and he’s probably (most likely) want to know if it was being opened with a key. So he has this feature where the DOOR™️ tells him if it’s being open, and if so, who’s key? Well, he’d definitely gonna know if the overlords are there cause who else is gonna use 20 different keys to open the DOOR™️??? Not him or Charlie! SO ANYWAYS (I’m getting off track ;-;) they use Charlie’s key cause A) it’s faster B) “Charlie” (the rescue group) visiting alastor is most likely normal behavior for her so Lucifer wouldn’t really suspect it.

So they enter the room and I see like three options here:

A) Alastor isn’t there.

Lucifer figured it out somehow (I don’t know how yet) and took Alastor away, probably to the royal palace to the ROOM™️ of that one ask where Lucifer takes Alastor to a room without windows or doors and there was a pantry with all the food he needs and the ceiling of the ROOM™️ is a false sky. ANYWAYS main takeaways here is that Lucifer knows, took Alastor away, and there is big boss fight right here right now. I don’t think they would win, so either Charlie talks him out of his decision or she doesn’t. Either way, people get hurt, just a matter of whether Charlie can convince Lucifer to let them live. (He’s killing them all for the crime of trying to take away his Alastor) (gods that felt wrong to type) I don’t think Lucifer would kill Charlie though, she’s a part of his family (family in italics to show importance) he would kill the overlords and anyone else tho. (Didn’t I already kinda allude to that?)

B) Alastor is there.

They see Alastor and it’s really heart breaking how detached he is, he probably doesn’t even realize they’re there (I don’t know anything about severe mental catonia) (is that how you spell it???) ANYWAYS (I’m so off track) perhaps there is an arguement with Charlie because while they knew what was happening, (maybe they didn’t know the full extent, after all, they only know that Alastor hasn’t been out in a while, and whatever Vox can scrape up in that one ask where he calls an overlord meeting with a giant cork board with red yarn and ANYWAYS) it’s different seeing it up close. I think they might spend valuable time arguing (mainly just everyone going after Charlie and Charlie doesn’t really have anything to defend herself) until someone stops them. (probably Zestial or Carmilla, they are maybe most likely to keep a level head in this situation, but then again, they really cared about Alastor, and I think this would break them to see him this way) They stop the arguing (verbal attack) against Charlie because they don’t have a lot of time and they should be using it getting Alastor out of here. I think they (those who can) try to teleport out but they can’t because Lucifer knows that they are there by now (the arguing was so loud, and he’s not the type to leave his beloved alone for long (possessiveness)) and did some sort of magical magic spell. Cue fight. (Look up at A) Alastor is not there for details).

C). Alastor is dead.

they were too late in trying to get to him and they see his dead body just lying there.

👀

[paellegere]

it's so great that the pilot episode of supernatural features a monster born out of anguish toward her husband's infidelity. and even greater that sam is the one targeted by her—implying then that sam has been unfaithful.

the show opens with the themes of infidelity and returning home. sam takes the central role in the conflict here and must make a choice to return home.

he stands on the threshold of two homes: family, where he comes from, and stanford, where he's forged a life for himself. his internal conflict is made manifest by the woman in white: like constance, he wants to go home, but he can't. the "home" sam can't return to shifts over the course of the episode. in the beginning, it's the family he can't return to, but by the end of the episode, it's his normal apple-pie life at stanford. these two homes are embodied by jess and dean, who both want him to come back to them.

the home distorts and melds with the lover as a result: jess literally occupies both spaces, which implies that dean occupies both as well. and then the woman in white attacks sam, targets him for his perceived infidelity, or potential for it. but who is it that he's unfaithful to, then? to jess, because he ran off with his brother? or to dean, because he abandoned him for jess?

but sam hasn't been unfaithful yet—he hasn't made his decision, hasn't chosen which home he'll return to. when the woman in white can't leave the impala, he realizes that she's scared to go home. it's a turning point in the literal plot and for sam's internal conflict. he voices his fear of returning home. this as a result implicates which "home" he will inevitably return to.

it's immediately after this realization that constance attacks him. he hasn't been unfaithful—yet. perhaps constance recognizes that sam's perception of home is shifting here, that "home" is no longer jess and has once again become dean. he's on the precipice of infidelity, and the ghost has seen the ending: "you will be."

sam drives the impala, the car he was raised in, the car he has called home, into constance's house and saves the day.

after this, sam becomes reluctant to go back to stanford. his surety from the beginning of the episode has become hesitant as he struggles to choose between his two homes. his home has shifted over the weekend, and it's only his sense of obligation that seems to win out at this point.

the woman in white's prophecy is finally fulfilled when sam adopts the revenge quest of his father. he chooses his home: dean. implicitly, this answers the question of who, exactly, sam was unfaithful toward. he leaves jess alone, vulnerable, and open to attack by running off on a weekend tryst with his brother. sam is the unfaithful husband, dean is the temptress, and jess is the dead wife haunting the next five episodes of sam's life. sam chooses dean, his home and his lover.

[rocksibblingsau]

Now you got me wondering, How would Funk Branch interact with the royal family, r&b, and lownote jones?

With Quincy and Essence there are some things that are spoilers for Rock Sibblings, but just know things are rocky at first! For outside reasons as well as the fact that Branch simply never really had parents for very long, let alone TWO parents (excluding temporary fosters). He was raised by his grandma. The two are just as patient as Thrash is, so they do eventually make progress with him and by the time of adulthood they're a close knit family.

Quincy and Essence encourage him to explore various interests and they are always great listeners. They love Branch a lot, but Branch doesn't replace what they lost.

As a kid, Darnell didn't initially get along well with Branch. Neither wanted the other as a brother. Branch for obvious reasons and Darnell because he wanted his brother, not a replacement. Over time they warm up to each other under the agreement they're just friends, but that eventually falls away and they're brothers. It's a learning curve for Branch to be a big brother, and he comes to find that he could never imagine leaving D the way his brothers left him. Even the thought of moving out of their parents house to next door feels like abandoning D. He also carries some guilt over the fact that this should be Cooper, but D is always quick to reassure him that he'd never trade Branch for Cooper. He'd love to have both his brothers, but if he can't then... well, he's happy with how things turned out.

Branch is the first one that D tells about his idea for Hip Hop. If anyone would be open to a subgenre, it's his adopted Pop-turned-Funk brother. Branch of course supports him, and even dabbles in Hip Hop himself, maybe even being Hip Hop as well.

When Cooper does reunite with D, that fear of abandonment is there again. The fear that Branch was just a replacement that D doesn't need anymore. D however grabs Branch's hand and pulls him over to Cooper and introduces them. Cooper's surprised on all fronts, but especially that Grey Branch was a good older brother to his twin. Hearing about how good of brother Branch was to D makes Cooper feel bad for how Branch was treated by Pop Village. Cooper was an odd one out, and if he had only tried, the two could have been friends. It's clear that Branch wasn't AGAINST caring about people like he'd thought.

The three become a little trio, with Cooper happy to go from 0 brothers to 2 in the span of a day.

Lownote Jones is used to everyone adoring him, normally just from his voice alone or his charms. While Branch can certainly notice both of those, he doesn't act like other people around Lownote, which he really likes. Branch actually becomes interested in Lownote due to Lownote's reputation as a scientist and pilot. Lownote isn't aware of this at first, and is kind of disappointed by the change, but in a 'oh well, it was nice while it lasted' kind of way before he realizes Branch is actually just more interested in the things he says rather than the "smooth cadence of his voice". The two are VERY good friends and Branch is introduced to Funk science by Lownote. Branch gives a very interesting outside perspective...

Which ties into how he interacts with R and B! He reins them in when they get too ahead of themselves and reminds them of the basics. He doesn't always get along with them, often finding some of their stuff too over the top. ("Why does the machine that opens a bottle have to be this big? Can't it be bottle opener sizes?" "How else will it fit the boombox?" "Why does a bottle opener need a BOOMBOX?" "Why not?") Though he can get wrapped up in it as well (See Holiday in Harmony and his gift to Poppy) sometimes.

Lownote shakes his head in disappoint at BroZone, meanwhile R and B contemplate the ethics of a machine that either 'removes jerkness' or 'squashes washed-up boy band members into ball shape and knocks them into space with a mallet'.

[oddballwriter]

The Baby Dream

Summary: You tend to have "the baby dream" every once in a while, but you never really mentioned it to your boyfriend Marc let alone had a conversation about having a baby with him in general. You tell him about the one you just had this time.

Warnings: not really anything real to warn about other than the reader's character feels a little sad when they find out that their baby was only something in their dream. Implied afab reader and implied that they breastfeed their baby. 

Author’s Snip: I have a mix of baby fever and recently had a baby dream of my own so I decided to use that as a prompt.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 618

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (you too can join my tag list, just ask)

The sound of a small soft grunt and whine wakes you right up. The morning sun breaches through the bedroom curtains and gives the room a soft lighting that makes the room visible without burning your still sleepy eyes. You look around for a bit, finding Marc still asleep and snoring softly. You sit up in bed and find the source of the noise, seeing a crib in the corner of the room along the wall.

Oh, looks like Mel's awake. Who's Mel? You and Marc's baby daughter of course!

You get up, careful not to wake Marc since he dealt with her waking up and crying in the middle of the night. Walking over to her crib, you look down and see her look back at you with her cute little eyes. They look just like the boys', all big and doe-like.

You scoop her up and out of her crib and cradle her in your arms. You feel her weight in your arms along with her squirming slightly to get comfortable.

"Good morning," you softly coo, "How'd you sleep? Huh?" you ask her. Of course, she can't answer, but judging that she didn't wake up crying like she usually does when she's had trouble sleeping, she slept just fine. Mel's tiny hands grip your pajama shirt. "I see we want breakfast now," you comment in response to her grabbing.

You walk back to the bed so that you can be comfortable while you feed her, but when you're supposed feel yourself sit, you wake up.

The room looks just the same, say for the fact that Marc is in the act of getting up out of bed this time. "Oh shit, sorry, hun. Did I wake you up?" Marc asks. You shake your head and carefully sit up and look towards the corner where Mel's crib was, but there's nothing there. No crib or baby...

Right. You don't have a baby together. It was just another baby dream that you have occasionally. You feel a bit of weight in your chest at the fact that you and Marc's baby girl wasn't real. Even though she only existed in your dream for a moment it felt so real. Like you actually had her and took care of her.

You realize that you're starting to tear up and shake off the feeling. "Sorry, I just had a dream," you explain. "Do you want to talk about it?" Marc gently asks. You take a moment and then a breath. "We had a baby," you say, "That was it. We had a baby together and I woke up to her waking up and I held her for a bit before I actually woke up." you explain further. "It's a normal thing. I have dreams where I have a baby from time to time." you mention.

Marc just look at you for a second. You look towards him to see what has him so quiet. He has that look on his face when he's thinking about something and trying to choose his words. You let him do his thinking before he finally speaks. "Do... you want a baby?" he asks.

"Yes?" you say, unsure yourself. "I don't know. It's sort of a hormone thing, like baby fever," you say. "We've never really had that talk before, I know. So I don't know if you want to have kids," you mention. "Okay, but do you want to have kids someday?" Marc rephrases his question. "Yeah. I'd like to have a family with you someday when we're ready." you answer.

Marc nods. "Yeah..." he says, "I think that would be a good conversation to have sometime soon." he adds with a slight smile.

[bosinclairsgff]

Lady Slashers Meeting their girlfriend

Includes: Baby Firefly, Amanda Young, Amber Freeman

Warnings: saw trap, hinting at kidnap

A/n I have the biggest crush on Baby

- You met Baby when you were hitchhiking through Texas. You had been trying to make your way home to whatever state you live in and somehow found yourself standing next to Baby. “Hey there! Where ya heading?” She giggles. “Just trying to make it home to (your state).” You respond. After you guys make conversation, she realizes she’s taken a liking to you. She invites you over for the night. You accept and when a car pulls up to give you a ride you both get in together.

- When you make it to her house she offers you a cup of hot chocolate, which you accept happily. Baby sits next to you on the couch in the living room and turns on the TV. You aren’t really paying attention to the movie playing. Your more interested in how cool her house is. It’s like a museum of oddities and curiosity! “I love your house Baby, it’s truly amazing.” You say looking at her. Her eyes light up! “Thank you sugar, that’s so sweet.” She smiles.

- After an hour or so you guys decide to head to bed. Baby insists you sleep in her room with her. Which you absolutely don’t mind. Her room is just as eccentric as the rest of the house. You can tell she really loves baby dolls. “Ready for bed sugar? I got extra blankets just in case ya got cold.” Baby says. You nod and thank her. “Which side of the bed do you want?” You ask. She laughs at this question. “I don’t care honey. I’ll sleep anywhere as long as I’m sleeping with you.” She smirks playfully. You can feel your face heating up. Baby slips under the covers on the left side of the bed as you take the right. You both stay silent for a few minutes but baby takes the roll in ruining said silence. “Ya know…we could cuddle if ya like to.” She turns to face you. You guys are inches away from each other, you can feel her breath on your face. She smells like liquor and hot chocolate. A mixture you normally wouldn’t like, but coming from her you don’t mind. “Okay..I wouldn’t mind that.” You can feel yourself turning a bright red. She slips her hand over your waist and pulls you towards her. Baby let’s out a soft sigh as she closes her eyes to fall asleep. As she falls asleep first you follow shortly after.

- The next day you guys get to know each other better. Learning all her likes a dislikes, meeting her brothers and her mama. You and mama get along very well. You stay with the family for a few days really feeling at home and at peace with Baby. However, all good things must come to an end. “I really should get back home Baby.” You say softly one day as you girls are laying in bed. She sits up immediately. “What! Why? I thought ya liked it here sweetheart.” She pouts. “I want to stay but what about my life and my responsibilities?” You tell her as you rub small circles on her hand. Baby thinks for a moment about what to say. “You can make a life here. I’m not letting you leave me. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.” She says in almost a dark tone. You had to be honest with yourself, it scared you seeing her like this but also made you feel safe knowing how much she cherishes you. “Well I suppose if you won’t let me leave I’m stuck here, with you…which isn’t so bad I guess.” You smile. Baby’s whole demeanor changes, she’s full of happiness and love again. Without much warning she leans in and kisses your lips. You of course accept the kiss graciously, kissing her back.

- After a month of living with the family you and Baby officially started dating. By this time you had found out their dirty little secrets. You couldn’t do much about it, yes you loved Baby but she did tell you that you couldn’t leave her.

- You had seen on the news about how there was a serial killer on the loose called Jigsaw. You were never to worried you’d run into him, I mean you were a nobody really. All you did was go to work and come home, on the rare occasion you’d go out with a few girlfriends but never often. That’s actually how all this started, you had just started walking home from the bar when someone in a pig mask came out of nowhere, stabbing you in the neck with something. After that assault you quickly started to get drowsy, within seconds you were fast asleep. When you awoke you found yourself bond to a chair, as your hands had been duct taped to the arms. On your head was a metal contraption. When you started to panic a TV in the corner turned on only to show a puppet. This puppet explained that he simply wanted to “play” a game. You have 60 seconds to free yourself from the reverse bear trap, as he called it, or it would permanently open your jaw. As in your head would be torn apart. To escape this trap you had to remove the key to the lock keeping it on you from a man’s stomach. Before you could truly take all of this in the TV cut off leaving you to start your game. As soon as you escaped the chair a timer started. You frantically tried the get the bear trap off without a key, it wouldn’t budge. You knew what you had to do. When you had finished getting the key and getting the trap off just in time, you passed out. Awaking to the fluorescent lights of a hospital room.

- Yes, you had survived the trap but you had been absolutely terrified of everything since that day. You were more great full for life, sure, you still always looked behind your shoulder and locked every door you entered. After a month or so you slowly started getting back into the groove of things. Which must be some cruel joke the universe was playing on you because as soon as things started to seem okay, you meet John. Who, as you came to know was behind the traps and murders. Though, he claims he never murdered anyone. John wanted you to help him with his work, make the traps, kidnap the people. You of course wanted absolutely nothing to do with that. You weren’t a psychopath who enjoyed hurting people. You loved people. However you didn’t have much of a choice.

- You had joined Johns team of apprentices, which is where you met her. Amanda Young. At first she really didn’t seem to like you all that much. She’d do anything in her power to absolutely avoid you. At first you took it personally but then you saw how she treated Mark. In that case you were thankful for how she treated you. Slowly you started to get her to open up. Saying hi to her when you would come in to work on traps or clean up the warehouse. Grabbing her a coffee when you got one for yourself. Eventually you two started to hangout even outside of working for John.

- After a while of constantly spending time with her you realized how much you liked her. You started to wonder if, maybe, she felt the same towards you. That’s when you decided to ask her one night. You guys normally hung out at your apartment, watching movies and eating unhealthy snacks. You let her choose the movie. As you guys were sitting on the couch, laying on opposite sides. You sat up, paused the movie and looked at her. “Mandy, I have something to tell you and ask you.” You state while looking down at your hands. What’s wrong? Did something happen!?” She questions with a worried expression. “What..no everything is fine don’t worry. I just. I wanted to tell you that, I have serious feelings for you and I was wondering if maybe you spelt the same.” You look up at her with a red face. For a moment she stays silent, which you internally start panic. “I-it’s okay! Let’s just forget I said anything.” You reach for the TV remote with was laying close to her. You lean over to get it and she grabs your face planting a kiss directly on your soft lips. Of course your taken completely off guard, not in a bad way though. After a second of pure bliss she ends the kiss. “I have feelings for you too y/n I was just scared I’d lose you if I said anything.” Amanda says shyly.

- You two officially started dating that night.

Amber Freeman

- You had just moved to Woodsboro, and were very nervous starting at a new high school. Yeah, you were a senior but it was still scary. The first day you started you bumped into a girl named Amber, at first you thought she may yell at you as she looked so intimidating. Yet all she did was smile and tell you it’s not a problem. In your last class of the day you saw a familiar face upon the unfamiliar setting. It was Amber sitting alone in the back of the class. You made your way to her and asked if you might sit next to her. She happily made space for you. Over the next month you two become good friends. Exchanging numbers as to keep contact even outside of the class. She texted you good morning and goodnight everyday. Amber made you feel wanted and safe, no one would fuck with her or you. Even her friend group liked you.

- You guys would usually hangout all together as a group but there were times when she just wanted to be alone with you. She’d treat you to a horror movie or sneak over late at night. Amber just loved alone time with you, where she knew you were completely hers. You started to notice little hints that she liked you. Such as when she’d hold your hand when you guys watch scary movies, or how she got very jealous whenever you talked to other girls. There are even times where she’d rest her hand on your leg while you guys ate lunch in the cafeteria.

- One night at a party you both had been glued to each other all night. You found yourself cuddling with her on the couch and watching whatever was on TV. She was sitting up, you were in her lap and she was playing with your hair. You can’t remember the last time you felt this happy. After a while of this she suddenly stopped and told you to look at her. Confused, you did as she said. Sitting up you looked at her with tired eyes. “Is everything okay?” You questioned. She’s nods in response. “There’s something I need to ask you y/n, I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks.” Amber says looking into your eyes. “What is it? You can ask me anything.” You say. She stays silent for a moment, thinking. “I want you to be my girlfriend. I really, really like you and I want you to be mind.” She says while looking down. You can’t believe what you just heard. You almost don’t at first thinking maybe you did fall asleep and this is a dream. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” You softly yell. Her whole face lights up and she smiles. Leaning in you kiss her on the lips softly while cupping her face with your hands.

[starlightswordfight]

rescue corps headcanons because I'm insane

(there are many)

– mirror pronouns pom

– that's all I got

– man!!

– Bernard started TALKING in this specific MANNER for the BIT years and years back and now he can't STOP he is STUCK someone HELP him

– he ALSO might be doing it to try to put EMPHASIS on the words he believes should have it and sometimes HE DOES not succeed

– he reads as ADHD coded to me but it might be because I also talk like that so take that with a grain of salt

– "HEY GIRL. I MEAN ANY PRONOUNS"

– Bernard had the most normal home life by far. No contest, won by default. I have a GREAT relationship with both of MY parents because they LOVE me

– he is incredibly observant. alarmingly so. will sometimes act out of the loop on purpose, if he thinks things would just be easier that way. accidentally learns everything about everyone, the guy's an information magnet and he doesn't know how to feel about that

– do you guys think Russ has made a spacesuit with the doc ock arms because I think he has and that he actively uses it on missions

– occasionally jumpscares people and giggles about it. he got the tendency to do this from his mother, who can smell fear

– while I doubt Russ would do things "for the bit" he would ABSOLUTELY act on impulse in the name of the scientific method. this has gotten him hurt before. it's fine

– does not make coffee he just eats the fucking grounds. "it's a Giyan thing, you wouldn't understand" this is not true at all he is LYING

– Russ and Yonny get into frequent arguments (light banter) about literally everything and I mean Everything. They could work together they'd be really powerful that way, but they don't

– Russ has so many genuinely funny science puns that he makes and no one ever gets them and it devastates him

– except for Yonny, who is too busy searching for ethics guideline loopholes to acknowledge that he understands the joke

– Yonny has the most HORRIFIC life stories and will drop them CASUALLY. thought they were funny, is only now beginning to realize that it does in fact make people concerned and uncomfortable when he does that

– prefers paper books to digital because he's prone to headaches!! cites "phone bad book good" as the official reason but that's not the reason

– nonbinary and evil. presentation tends to "default" as masc but switches up often! hey girl I mean any pronouns

– knows like a hundred million dead languages for absolutely no reason

– makes art in his spare time because murder is wrong

– Shepherd sleeps with a nightlight, or at the very least can't rest well in complete darkness!! she's just like me fr !!!!

– "she snores" thank you duncan for your contribution. honk shoe

– also I think she might be autistic I can't fully back that one up do not ask me to but look at her. she cares about dogs the way I care about fish

– prone to coming across the wrong way, tone wise. very very good at giving backhanded compliments that were meant to be fully sincere and just got horribly lost in translation. this keeps her up at night. she feels AWFUL

– big fan of karaoke!! not exactly GOOD at it but we love her initiative

– as afraid as she is of the pikmin, their voices and funny little words are very catchy and she does find herself repeating them often. she will not admit this. it is embarrassing

– Collin is also autistic. I could make an entire separate post on this I'm being so goddamn serious, I have so much reasoning, I am fully confident that he is, and that he masks REALLY hard, and it enormously fucked him up

– special interest in machinery (NO ONE saw THIS coming)

– transmasculine. his name is a pun on "call in." heard the phrase and realized he had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever

– we only hear about his grandfather, and not even from him; no other family is mentioned at all!! went no contact with like everybody else, above points might be why. people with normal childhoods don't stand like that

– adding onto the canon sleep talking with sleep movement! a LOT of it! has probably kicked someone before!!

– "he wakes up upside down" thank you duncan

– i think maybe Dingo might still have glow stick light up bones. will rediscover this one day during an expedition mishap and it will be an Experience

– not a hc but Dingo is the type of guy to get bit in a zombie apocalypse and not tell anyone until the literal last second

– "he would also say "fuck my stupid baka life"" thank you duncan

– would fight by rolling up his sleeves and jumping around cartoonishly. he would more likely talk like he's winning the fight when he is in fact actively losing. "had enough yet? (on the floor)"

– definitely games and he wins the competitive ones by button mashing. "I'll never tell you my strategy" he prays that's the strategy

– his sleep schedule is NOT normal. it's so beyond skewed. he either gets like 2 hours of sleep or he wakes up the following night not knowing what year it is

[hx4x4enthusiast]

your papa prime head cannons are spot on! Though I wonder what papa prime would do if and when he realizes that his autobots/kids are like his sparklings (btw I love your writing style!)

Aww, thank you for the kind words. I love this so here a short story about how I think he would discover that he is running sire protocol aka

Optimus realizes he is now a dad.

Optimus fluff

Words: 817

It was a quiet day in the base, the entire week was for the bots relatively peaceful the cons didn’t try to destroy the earth yet again and the kids were out using the holidays to go visit family. Miko was in Tokyo visiting her parents and catching up with friends, Raf and his family went to Mexico for his cousins Quinceañera and to catch up and even Jack and his mom went on a trip to Canada to visit Junes Sister.

The bots used the rare tranquillity, in different ways, Arcee went out more training her parkour skills, Bumblebee visit the Griffin Rock stationed Rescue Team. Meanwhile Bulkhead joined Wheeljack on a “space adventure” and even Ratchet allowed himself to rest more and work on some project of his. Truly a perfect time to relax before the storm comes again and the efforts to end the war start anew.

And yet Optimus could not sit still, since the beginning of the week his frame has been acting up. It started with the itching of his plating as if nanoticks are biting into his mesh, then his fans and vents acted up leaving him sometimes unable to move from the cold or borderline delirious from the heat. When parts of his frame started to move, like his right leg transforming, making him stumble into his work desk he had enough.

“Old friend, could I ask for your expertise?”

“Oh? What a rare occasion to find you willingly come into the medbay. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit Optimus?”

“My frame has been acting up in various ways and I can not fathom on what may have caused this.”

“Well then let’s get you checked out come on take a seat.”

Optimus did as instruct while Ratchet readied the scans to run a complete diagnostic on his frame. With the last scan complete a frown made its way onto Ratchets face plate.

“Well Optimus physically there is nothing wrong with your frame, everything is in working order, energy levels are good. But what concerns me is your spark activity, normally it is in a very calm even lower compared to the others due to the influence of the matrix, but your current scan shows a hyperactivity, like you’re in a high stress situation.”

“Curios, I have never felt like this before.”

“Hmn, well let me run a protocol diagnostic scan maybe one of your battle protocols activated or is damaged. Lay down, go into power-down and I’ll see what I can find.”

“Very well, Ratchet.”

Laughter is what rose the Prime out of his power down, as his optics finally onlined he was met with the sight of Wheeljack laughing, Arcee getting a packet of rust sticks from both Bumblebee and Bulkhead and Ratchet standing on the side shaking his head in disapproval, before realizing Optimus woke up.

“Well Optimus, I have found the cause of your well, functioning problems, so I ran the protocol diagnostic scan and in good news all of your battle protocols are in perfect working order, matter of fact all of your protocols are working fine.”

“Then what would cause my flare-ups, old friend?”

“Well like I said all of your protocols are running fine and well-“

“Ha, your running sire protocol Prime, oh I never thought I see the day. Oh this is too good.”

“WHEELJACK!”

A very angry shout followed by the sound of a wretch making contact with a piece of metal, the piece of medal being Wheeljacks helm. Letting out a puff of air through his vents, Ratchet turned back around to face Optimus.

“What he said is true though, your sire protocols are running and that on overdrive.”

That day, at that time, something happened which has never happened before and will probably never happen again. Optimus was lost for words.

“But this doesn’t seem plausible I am not with a sparking neither have…I…adopted…one…”

A look of realisation crossed over the Primes features.

“The children.”

“Yes, Optimus your spark has formed a spark bond with each of the children and seeing the effect it has of you they, though most unknowingly, accepted it and with that you as their sire.”

“When are the children coming back?”

“Soon Optimus, Raf is as far as I know already on his way back, they will arrive tomorrow.”

“And Miko told me she takes the plane from Tokyo tomorrow.” Bulkhead added.

“Jack and his mom should arrive either today late in the night or tomorrow morning to noon.” Arcee mentioned offhandedly.

“Well I believe it is in the best od interest to wait until all of them arrive and see how we will proceed from there. I will excuse myself then I will see you tomorrow.”

With that Optimus exited the medbay not seeing the knowing smirk on his medics faceplate.

[happy-mokka]

Happy birthday to me!!! 🎂

Yeah. Hi. It's me. Middle-aged Aziraphale fangirl did his next big step in the direction of the big 50.

Wahooooo! Not really…

I hate my birthdays. Always did. Even as a child.

Now as this middle-aged queerish-dude I am still having a hard time, standing in the middle of things and being cheered on by others.

I was born. Great. Get along, people, nothing to see here. Can you all just go home please?

"Well, what the f*ck are you doing here then, right now, with this post, in the middle of an internet platform in front of a bunch of strangers?!?"

some of you might ask. And rightly so, I must add.

Way more than 12 hours before - it is now past 10 pm in Germany - so this morning after I woke up to be exact, I had seriously contemplated the possibility to call in sick on my birthday, and hide myself from the world, quietly sobbing on my couch. For the first time in my working life of 24 years. I had always been to work on my birthdays. No exception.

But the past months had been hard. I never really felt in control of things, still don't. Those who know me closer, know that I like to be in control. Always a plan at hand. Always prepared…

Only that it didn't really work out…hasn't for quite a long time. I just never admitted it to myself. Always kept on going. My family was always good in repressing things.

Don't show weakness. Keep on functioning. What will the others think? People depend on you!

My family also never really considered me being "a success story" by their standards. I am unmarried. Don't have children. No big career. Ok, I've put enough on the side to live a financial solid life in a nice appartment. But the first part really nagged at them, and through them at me.

So I was already unhappy for quite some time.

Together with an ongoing above-average and ever growing work-load at the office, this feeling of unhappiness turned slowly into dread and then deep sadness, until I felt close to breaking with the beginning of today.

Now, almost 15 hours later, I am here, writing this sappy stuff and am genuinely happy for the first time in months.

"What changed?"

Well, I was thinking about this a lot in the past hour. While sitting in the bus and later while walking home.

Honestly? Nothing really changed.

I got my eyes opened and my perspective adjusted by someone very dear to me. That's what friends are for, and she is the best of them. My bestie.

She is the one who got me addicted to Good Omens last year and pushed me onto this hellsite. She brought me Doctor Who and the Tardis (yeah, I know, shame on me, coming so late to the game…). She makes me constantly re-think my opinions and keeps opening new windows to look through on things I had missed or never noticed before. She is challenging me on a daily basis to be more than I normally would go for or did for many years. She became the closest friend I have ever had in my life. Sure, I know lots of people a lot longer in years. Some since Kindergarten. But none of them digged themselves so deep into the darkest corners of my soul. Places not even my brother or my parents ever got to see. She made me, a life long rather shy introvert, open up, despite the fact that she is even more introverted than I have ever been. I still don't fully understand all of it, but here I am, writing all this to an unknown audience, as proof. A year ago, this wouldn't have been possible, not even in my wildest dreams.

"So, you didn't realize this before?"

I did. It just got pushed aside by all the negative spiralling. Sometimes you don't see, what's right in front of you.

After work, I walked her home. I like doing that. Sometimes talking all the way. Sometimes just walking in silence side by side. At her place she handed me 2 presents and just like that, it clicked. Sometimes, it doesn't take much, if it comes from the heart…

People, meet my new Michael Sheen mug!!!

So, we basically bonded over Good Omens and as faith would have it, we are exactly Aziraphale (me) and Crowley (her) coded. 100%.

It makes me beyond happy, knowing that everytime I'll sip my coffee with my beloved Sheeny, on the other end of town she will sip her hot cocoa out of her corresponding new David Tennant mug.

Good Omens was not the only thing we found out to have in common. The common ground sometimes is really breathtaking and we still regularly stumble over new things it contains. So many things that we equally love. Books, movies, music, long walks, just sitting there in silence and taking in a beautiful view… On the other hand, we are so different in so many aspects, but with the feeling of it rather complementing than dividing us.

She loves to chrochet, I can't even hammer a nail strait into a sponge. Speaking of which, meet my 2nd gift: Audrey!!!!!!!!!

We watched "Little shop of Horrors" (the 1986 version with Rick Moranis) a few weeks ago. Both for the first time. Loved it. I immediately fell for "Audrey", the flesh-eating alien plant. Didn't speak anything out loud, still it didn't go unnoticed…and, yes, it is hand-made!!!

*sigh*

"So, what am I trying to say here?"

Good qestion…

Life can be cruel. Life will be hard at times. It will make you cry, like, a lot.

Try to not go through all this alone. Sometimes those that you least expect it from, turn out to become your anchor in the stormy sea or the lighthouse showing you the way. Build your own little family of friends (even if its just one). Hold them tight, once you found them. Love them with all that's in you. You will get it back ten fold.

To quote the great Neil Gaiman:

Why?

L🥰ve!

@uncleadelheid-will-eat-your-soul , thanks for being all that for me, little introverted geeky metal edgelord office girl, and thanks for enduring my annoying love for bad jokes and even worse puns…

P.S.: Sorry btw for the storm, lighthouse, anchor metaphors with you hating all that's related to the dark blue sea…I still didn't edit them out…maybe we'll be getting there. At least I left out fishy fish…

🐟🐠🐡🦈🌊🦑

[kytsuine-blog]

Ok so I'm going to do a better, Tumblr-focused writeup soon and also track down those blogs to talk about them more specifically, but I fell for a misinformation scheme today and want to talk about how and why. Here's an email I sent my little cousin about it.

This morning, I encountered a Tumblr post talking about the TikTok ban and the government's attempt to severely curtail digital privacy rights as part of it.

I had heard that the TikTok ban was currently up for debate in the Senate, after passing the House with strong bipartisan support. I was not surprised by the information in the screenshots; it matched with things I knew the government had tried to do often in the past, and often under similar circumstances. I looked up the bill linked to verify, and yeah, it was an active bill that had been introduced in the Senate. (I should have realized then that there was an issue with what I was reading, but in my defense it was about 6:00 AM, and I was just glancing over things in the parking lot before going in to work.)

Concerned for the digital privacy and security of my family, and especially the ones I can't just drive to, I drafted the following message to you:

"I haven't had time to read all the way through the RESTRICT act that the Senate proposed, but summaries I've seen indicate that as written it's a massive overreach. It's better known as the TikTok ban; the news has been focusing on that part as it passes through Congress so far.

I always sign my emails to you with my public key. Both of you should look up how to use PGP to send me encrypted emails with that. It may become even more important soon to normalize secure encryption in Internet communications, and there may also be things that we wish to discuss that state or federal laws may frown on in the future.

I planned to introduce topics related to computer and information security more gradually, but making sure that talking about those is possible at all is an important part of that.

Congress.gov page on the bill

Tweet thread"

(As an aside, I do still think that normalizing encryption is a very worthwhile thing to do; it makes the web a safer place for activists and informants needing a way to communicate without surveillance, without being singled out as enemies of the surveillance state.)

I then checked through the notes of the Tumblr post to see if there was more context I wanted to share, and noticed people who called out a detail that I missed. That post was first posted in March of 2023, a little over a year ago. It refers to an entirely different bill than the TikTok ban which is currently going through the Senate, one which activists successfully stalled (and likely killed) last year. This year's bill is much more targeted (though, as implemented, I still have issues with it); its text can be found here.

This is a classic example of how misinformation spreads. I did not have bad intent when I went to share that commentary on last year's bill with you, and I did not find it from someone with bad intent (in fact, she subsequently shared a commentary I posted on the actual bill, in reply to her original incorrect post.) From what I can tell, on March 14, a number of mostly inactive politically-focused blogs all shared that post directly from the original poster (not from someone who had it in their feed, like a normal Tumblr interaction). Each of these was tagged with fairly popular political tags. None of these blogs has posted since, keeping it at the top of their page to get more eyes on it.

Misinformation is spread deliberately, and it takes caution and checking of your biases to combat it. I almost fell for this one because I expected it to be true. I should have checked on it before sharing anything at all. Looking at it now, I ask: who benefits from this?

Most directly, proponents of the current TikTok ban benefit from activist efforts being directed towards a functionally dead bill. This, apparently, includes the strong majority of the House, on both sides of the aisle; it may be assumed that it also includes the government's surveillance agencies (as it is easier to compel data from American companies than from foreign ones, particularly Chinese ones). It could also include other social media sites, especially those like YouTube and Instagram that compete directly with TikTok in the realm of algorithmically driven short videos.

More abstractly, though, this misinformation benefits the status quo, and conservatism as a whole. By causing people who are invested in the TikTok ban (mostly left-leaning people) to engage with more stringent and concerning bills, stress is increased on activists and burnout becomes more likely. Targeting the mental health of left-leaning activists is a tactic we've seen multiple times recently in misinformation campaigns; another example is the "the Guardian is doing a story on DIY HRT" hoax that recently circulated among my trans friends. This type of stressful lie misinformation serves the dual purpose of causing activists to burn out and decreasing trust among communities that share it.

This is a new specific strategy to me, but the solution is the same as ever. Check your sources when you speak publicly, check how your biases affect what ideas seem "clearly correct", and aim for your statements to maximize quality, rather than quantity. That's a discipline I still need to refine, but it's not hard. Just requires a bit of diligence.

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [five]

warnings: arguing (jaybird is jelly), stalking

one, two, three, four

❥❥❥

Jason was seething as he fought to not break Dick’s nose.

Maybe that would wipe the stupid, irritating grin off his face. The oldest hadn’t stopped smiling since patrol started and Jason was acutely aware of why.

Jason was territorial, possessive, whatever you want to call it. The thing loomed over him like an inescapable shadow. He knew it existed, clawing at his subconscious, burning in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. After growing up with close to nothing to his name, it was ingrained in him to hold anything he cared about away from anyone who may take it from him.

And he cared about Leia. He cared about Callum.

To admit it was something that kept him up in the early hours of dawn after patrol, especially after he’d seen Leia and Dick chatting it up a block away from their apartment complex. She was smiling, laughing. He tried, he really tried, but the thing on his shoulder bared its ugly, bloody teeth.

Leia and Callum had become his little slice of peace, a sign of hope. They were an island oasis in a sea of never-ending chaos, a breath of fresh air after choking down ash and smoke for a lifetime. 

Without even realizing, he’d gotten their schedule down to a T.

He started coming and going when they were. He waited a few minutes to go on patrol for the chance to have a longer conversation with Leia when she’d come back from her shifts tired and sore. She would offer him a pretty smile and she’d lean against a wall, telling him about her shift before picking up Callum from her neighbor. He figured out what time Callum walked home from the bus when Leia couldn’t be there and offered to start walking him back. That way, she wouldn't have to rush home and Callum was sure to make it back to the complex safe and sound. After some understandable hesitation, Leia allowed it and gave him her number to contact her. 

He had her number saved in his phone as L, one of the few marked in his favorites. 

Callum was a bright kid with a smile to match. He would rattle off about his day while they walked, barely pausing long enough to breathe. When the kid admitted he was having trouble in math, Jason started quizzing him randomly on their walks.

If Jason was being honest with himself – which didn’t happen often – he was finding the silence in his apartment unbearable as the echoes of the family of two across the hall flitted through the walls like a butterfly he could never catch.

The mother and son were unbearably normal, but that’s what made them so special. These were the people he fought for and here they were, giving him the time of day and treating him like a person rather than a soldier.

Dick didn’t understand it. He couldn’t. He was the favorite son, the favorite brother, the golden boy. He didn’t understand what it was to be completely alone without anyone to be there purely because they cared. Dick had people who didn't look at him like he was a monster, Jason did.

“Wipe that dumbass grin off your face.”

“What?” Nightwing’s head spun to the side, cheesy grin disappearing like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You heard me,” Red Hood replied gruffly, crossing his arms to keep his arms from swinging. “And back the hell off. She doesn’t need you.”

“Are you…are you calling dibs?” He had the audacity to laugh as if this was a joke. “Leia –”

Red Hood slammed Nightwing into the brick wall behind him so hard it was sure to leave bruises on the oldest’s back. He didn’t bother holding back his strength, a gift from his revival only proven as his teal eyes faded into glowing green under his helmet.

“Don’t fucking say her name.”

Nightwing didn’t fight him, didn’t push him off, just looked at him casually, putting his hands up. “Is it a crime to want to meet the girl that’s got my brother like this?”

“Fuck. Off.”

“What’s going on?” Batman’s deep, gravelly voice made Red Hood back off with a final shove. 

“Nothing.” Red Hood scoffed, the scowl of his helmet only conveying half of the look he was giving Nightwing. “Back off,” he hissed, modulated voice making it sound more like a growl. 

He didn’t bother sticking around, jumping off the roof. Hopefully beating the shit out of some low lives would ease the weight on his chest.

❥ 

Nightwing rolled his shoulders, watching Red Hood disappear into the night. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was smiling until Red Hood snapped him out of his stupor. He was going over his conversation with Leia, scrambling to think of another excuse to see her again which led to the thought of a real date, but the daydream was ruined. 

He wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction from Jason. Usually, the light teasing got him a grunt at best. Of course, he knew teasing Jason about his neighbor should've stayed a taboo thing neither of them brought up again, but could you really blame him?

Leia was a kind, smart, beautiful woman. Even though his brother just technically called dibs, his thoughts were just that, thoughts. They would stay there -- at least that's what he told himself.

“Care to explain?” Batman’s voice made Nightwing sigh.

While he wouldn’t usually fess up to something like this, he thought it best if Bruce heard it from him rather than anyone else.

“Remember that girl, Leia, that stitched him up a few nights ago?”

Batman squinted though it looked more like a glare and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, well I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for her or something like that. I was curious so I happened to meet her yesterday and we hit it off. Now, Red is pissed cause he thinks he called some sort of dibs? Not sure honestly.” He shrugged though he knew damn well by Jason’s reaction that his feelings were deeper than just ‘a thing’. 

Saying it outloud made a pit grow in Dick’s chest. Jason truly cared for Leia, probably loved her. A part of Dick wanted to leave it, drop any sort of interest in the girl and let Jason be. Another part though whispered in his ear sickly sweet half-truths and promises.

“What’s so special about her?” Robin’s voice called down from his perch above Nightwing who was well aware he had been eavesdropping since Red Hood left.

Nightwing opened his mouth to scold the boy, but Batman beat him to it.

“Every person has value, regardless of who they are.” He uncrossed his arms and glanced around the shadows of the roof. “Where’s Red Robin?”

❥ 

Tim Drake was known for being thorough. 

Most days, it helped him pursue the cold cases that landed on his desk along with handling the many difficulties Wayne Enterprises had. It allowed him to juggle his double life with, albeit, little grace, but the job got done. That being said, it was also known that despite being thorough, that often led to a habit of a small obsession with finishing the job.

Tonight was yet another example of such…thoroughness. 

Leia Barnett was a curious case. Clean as a whistle with a past shrouded in grief, a combination that was undeniably odd in their world. A car crash had almost cost her and her son their lives and it took away her best friend. On paper she snapped into action as soon as she recovered instead of wallowing and rotting in her pain. She didn't let it control her, at least that's what he assumed. Yet another oddity in a world where it was so easy to get lost in one’s pain, to writhe in it and let it eat you alive.

She was smiling, moving around her kitchen with ease as she cooked a new pasta dish he’d seen pop up a few nights prior on her search history. Meanwhile, Callum sat at the small table painting. He’d smeared a streak of green across his nose a moment ago but didn’t seem to notice. He finished his homework a while ago, breezing through most of it as usual. According to Willow Creek Elementary’s database, his grades were fantastic in everything except math, but even those had been going up in the past few weeks.

A soft, mechanical click of a camera captured the moment.

Tim looked down at the picture, smiling fondly as it appeared on screen. One of many in his quickly growing collection.

He had yet to meet her unlike his older brothers, but he knew more about Callum and his mother than either of them, something he held over their heads even if they didn't know it. He knew Callum loved to paint, color, draw – anything that gave him the freedom to scatter an image across a surface was fair game. He knew he didn’t have many friends but the few he had were good kids (Tim had vetted each of the kid's parents to make sure Callum wouldn't be badly influenced).

He knew Leia’s favorite color was purple, lilac to be specific. He knew she enjoyed fantasy books but had a hard time finding time to read the many on her shelf. He knew she was bisexual, just like him (something that they could bond over) and that her mother was a horrible person, having kicked Leia out as soon as she found out. And he knew that she made it through that too.

Leia was strong. She was cunning and resourceful when it came down to it, he'd watched it in real time. She had a big, bleeding heart; her empathy knew no bounds. Tim wondered if that was why she humored Jason. Maybe she could see through the harsh exterior and pitied him which made him wonder what she would see in him.

In the beginning, Tim swore to himself that this was innocent, that this was just curiosity, he just wanted to make sure that she was clean. He promised it was to make sure Jason was okay as he spent his free time watching her work through the hospital's cameras.

He wasn't sure when it turned into...this. Once he started watching, he couldn't look away. His eyes were glued to his screens, writing and rewriting whatever notes he could scramble onto anything he could.

Tim was enamored by Leia. He often thought about meeting her, speaking to her instead of just watching over her and her son from a distance. He liked to think he was their guardian, much like he was to the rest of Gotham. He didn’t need to be there like Jason and Dick (though it would be nice). She was a blazing hearth, something to be cared for and watched over in fear that it would eventually fade. 

Eventually, the wind picked up, chasing away his thoughts, reminding where he was, who he was.

Who was he, someone who was tarnished by vigilantism, to stand in her warmth? How badly he wanted to join his brothers, escape from the shadows and step into her light. 

So, for now, a photo of what could be was enough.

❥ 

“Mama! Mama! Look!” 

The loud screech of the wood chair on the floor followed by the scrambling of little feet brought Leia out of her cooking. She was a creature of habit with a young child, so they tended to have the same meals on rotation. Someone could only have hot dogs so many times. However, she was going to try giving her picky six-year-old something new and pray she didn’t just spend good money and work an hour on this meal for nothing.

“Hmm?” She peered down as Callum tugged on her purple sweater, probably smearing paint on the edges. Thank goodness she bought the washable paint this time.

He was holding a paper behind his back, shyly smiling up at her.

“Let’s see it.” Leia waved a hand and leaned back on the counter.

“Tadaaa!” He held up his picture, paint still drying. “What do you think Mama? That’s you, then me, and that’s Mr. Jason! It’s us at the park.”

He pointed to a smiling stick figure with a blue shirt and blue pants which she assumed was her scrubs, then another smiling figure much smaller than the other two, and a third that was taller than the other two figures that had black hair and a white streak that was turning gray thanks to the mixing paint. Behind them was a bright yellow sun and a few gray clouds with smiley faces. They stood on green grass with a familiar yellow slide in the background.

“It looks great, honey.” Leia laughed lightly. 

“Do you think Mr. Jason would like it? He’s really nice.”

“I’m sure he’d love it.”

“Do you like him?”

Leia choked on air, staring at her son with wide eyes. “W-What?”

“Do you like him?” Callum’s head tilted to the side innocently. 

Leia stared at him before shaking her head. “Yes, I like Mr. Jason. He’s a good person.” She took the picture from Callum, holding it up to the light like she was inspecting it. “I think this is fridge worthy, don’t you?”

“Yay!” Callum cheered, throwing his small arms in the air and rushed over to the metal fridge, picking out the green T-rex magnet.

“Hmm. Where do you think?”

Callum’s face scrunched up, looking between the dozen pictures that decorated the fridge. “Above that one!” He pointed to the top corner, above one of a black kitten he said he saw walking home with Jason.

Once it was up, they both took a step back to admire the fridge that had almost no space left. Leia chuckled, picking Callum up and placed him on her hip. 

“It looks perfect.” She nuzzled the side of his paint covered face making him burst into giggles.

“Mama!” He whined, trying to wiggle away. 

“Okay, okay, go clean up. Dinner is almost ready.”

“But –”

“Shoo. The sooner you’re clean, the sooner we can eat.”

He pouted for a moment before going to wash his hands and face like she asked. While he went to clean up, Leia brought everything away from the stove and turned off the heat. She then walked over to the table, tidying up Callum’s watercolors, frowning when she noticed he was running low and made a mental note to go get some for him soon.

As she moved to put his paint brushes in the sink, she noticed a figure leap between the roofs across the street. It was only a millisecond, but she saw the cape fall between the buildings, disappearing into the shadows. 

Her heart stuttered, wondering if one of the bats was there to confront her about Red Hood. According to the news, Hood and the bats were on good terms again seeing as Hood had lightened up on his bloodier approach to crime. She waited for the shadow to move again, but when nothing happened, she sighed in relief.

Slightly paranoid now, she dropped the brushes in the sink before checking the locks on the windows then shut the blinds. 

Hopefully, it was just a coincidence.

❥❥❥

five

If y'all are interested in a face claim for bby Callum, I'm thinking Noah Jupe

[ryllen]

" no one will know ~~ ♥♥♥ "

- more like me thinking of Trey going ham if Jade is in a pinch