#by the time it’s next year I won’t even like the initial sketch of it so :

[letters-unsending]

No. 46

////

“You left. You chose to leave. Not many get to, you know that?”

“I should let you have this. I should let you have your peace–your normal life with those fake papers and fake memories. I think it would be the kind thing to do. But you asked me to find you once they..removed you and I honor my word, if nothing else. I owe you this, [Hero]. I owe you so much more.”

Hero sipped their coffee as they flipped through the notebook. When they’d returned from the library, they’d noticed an extra notepad in their backpack, wedged between their [class] textbook and laptop. It was slim and black, like a misplaced slip of shade. Hero assumed they’d accidentally snagged it from the neighboring desk, but as they peeked at the first page, they discovered their name, penned in their own handwriting over the top line. The date beside the signature was more than four years ago.

The initial pages were full of diagrams. There were outlines of armor and weapons, fringed by impossible chains of numbers and equations. Deeper into the book, the math grew tangled and senseless, sprouting nonsense conclusions and diverging into page-long tangents. Rants spilled over sketches.

After pages of slantwise and ragged scrawl, the neat lines of text came as a surprise. They were written by a different hand, one characterized by tight loops and impeccably even spaces.

“You can choose to stop reading. If you care about this normal life of yours, if going to college and getting a job fulfills you, you should discard this book. Burn it. Shred it. Tossing it leaves too much risk.”

“I know you won’t though. You’re curious. You always asked questions and pushed limits–that’s what got you into trouble. It’s also what made you the best. You were are a hero, [Civilian Name], and you should’ve never needed me, of all people, to remind of you that. But I will. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to remember.”

A few of the next pages were ripped out, leaving shredded tufts. Hero traced the paper’s ragged edge and set their coffee down. They looked over their shoulder, then out the window, and then down the hall, as if expecting someone to break through the woodwork and declare this was all a ruse. The dining room clock ticked. The din of passersby and cars warbled stories below.

“None of the books you gave me make sense. There’s no answer. You told me there was an answer.”

“I wrote down a few memories from the missions we shared. I never knew you as a person…I didn’t know your name or face, not until the night before you left. But I hope my recollections may jog your memory. There are also some pictures, a summary of your missions as a Hero, and a list of the few things you did share with me when we were together.”

“If you do remember, there’s a place we used to meet–”

“I can’t figure this out without you. We were so close to an answer. I don’t know why you left, but we’re the city is running out of time.”

[jcmarchi]

‘Mother of Dragons’ comet visible in the night sky - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/mother-of-dragons-comet-visible-in-the-night-sky-technology-org/

‘Mother of Dragons’ comet visible in the night sky - Technology Org

Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks is visible in the night sky for observers in the northern hemisphere, offering a rare chance for professional and amateur astronomers to catch a glimpse of an object known for its spectacular outbursts of gas and dust.

Structure of a comet

Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks is a ‘Halley-type’ comet with an orbital period of roughly 71 years and a nucleus approximately 30 km wide. It has been observed during previous journeys through the inner Solar System, allowing astronomers to study its behaviour and characteristics over time.

Its distinctive shape has earned it the name ‘horned’ comet, or ‘devil’ comet, but we have chosen instead a pop-culture reference that draws on its role as the probable parent body of the ‘kappa-Draconids’, a small annual meteor shower that is active around 29 November to 13 December.

Like other comets, comet 12P/Pons-Brooks is composed of ice, dust, and rocky material. When it approaches the Sun, heat causes the ice inside the comet to turn from solid to gas.

The gas escapes from the surface of the comet, dragging dust with it. They form a large cloud and a tail that is pushed away from the Sun by the solar wind.

Where, when and how can I see the comet?

The visibility of comet 12P/Pons-Brooks varies. It can appear very bright when highly active and close to Earth. Other times, it may appear only faintly.

The comet will reach its closet point to Earth in June 2024. However, by this time, it won’t be possible to observe the comet from the northern hemisphere. Late March and early April will offer the best opportunities.

During this time, the comet will be visible in clear, dark skies above the western horizon during the hours after dusk. If you are lucky, you may be able to observe it with binoculars or even the naked eye, but you will have a better chance with even a small telescope, as its brightness is unpredictable.

Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks won’t return to our night skies until 2095.

Discovery and previous appearances

Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks is named after two of the most prolific comet observers of all time.

French astronomer Jean-Louis Pons (1761–1831) made most of his discoveries using telescopes and lenses of his own design. Pons is noted today for making 37 visual comet discoveries between 1801 and 1827 – a record still held today.

One of his discoveries was made on 12 July 1812, when Pons spotted a dim object that initially lacked the iconic tail of a comet.

Over the next month, the comet became bright enough to be seen with the naked eye. It reached its peak brightness on 15 August that year and featured a distinct tail.

Astronomers calculated the orbit of the comet based on Pons’ observations and suggested that the new comet had an orbital period around the Sun of between 65 and 75 years.

British-American astronomer William R. Brooks (1844–1921) accidently verified these calculations during the comet’s next trip through the inner Solar System.

Sketches of Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks from 21-22 January 1884 by US astronomer Herbert Couper Wilson (1858-1940).

Brooks was also prolific: his 27 comet discoveries are second only to Pons’s. But it soon became apparent that the ‘new’ comet he spotted on 2 September 1883 was actually the same one discovered by his spiritual rival 71 years earlier.

Due to the dual nature of the discovery, comet 12P now bears the names of both astronomers.

12P/Pons-Brooks went on to become famous for the sudden outbursts of gas and dust observed during its approach to the Sun in 1883, 1954 and 2023. It is thought that records of bright objects in the night sky from China in 1385 and Italy in 1457 could be observations of 12P/Pons-Brooks.

Why are comets interesting?

Comets are ancient cosmic icebergs. They are roughly 4.6 billion years old and formed at the same time as the Sun, Earth and the other planets.

Gravitational interactions fling them towards the inner planets from out beyond the orbit of Neptune, making them some of the most chaotic and dynamically interesting objects in the Solar System.

A comet’s nucleus is typically between 1 and 50 km across with the structure of a dirty snowball. They are made of dust and ice, which partly goes from solid to gas when the comet is warmed by the Sun. Cometary and asteroid impacts may be responsible for a fraction of the water present on Earth and for the icy reservoirs that are thought to exist at the bottom of permanently shadowed craters on the Moon.

The defining characteristic of a comet is its tails. Tails come in two main types, a dust tail and an ion (or plasma) tail. When sunlight warms the ice on a comet, gas and dust are released into space.

The dust falls into orbit around the comet and is gently pushed into fan-shaped tail by incoming sunlight.

The gas is ionised by ultraviolet sunlight and the particles of the solar wind, and these charged particles (ions) form a narrow ion tail that is pushed directly away from the Sun by the solar wind.

Comet tails are the reason for Earth’s annual meteor showers, during which Earth passes through clouds of dust left behind by comets.

Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks is a ‘near-Earth comet’, which means it orbits the Sun in less than 200 years and comes close enough to the Sun that it could cross Earth’s orbit. ESA’s Planetary Defence Office keeps a close eye on near-Earth comets to monitor any risk of collision.

Near-Earth comets are much rarer than near-Earth asteroids – their less icy cousins. We know of only 122 near-Earth comets, but of almost 35 000 near-Earth asteroids.

ESA missions to comets and asteroids

Seeing comets from afar can be beautiful, but to really get to know them, you have to study them up close.

ESA has developed and flown a number of spacecraft to comets and asteroids to improve our understanding of the formation and evolution of the Solar System, the role of these objects in delivering the ingredients of life to Earth, how comet activity works, and the risks these fast-moving space rocks pose to our planet.

Giotto

Giotto was ESA’s first deep-space mission. In 1986, it passed closest to the nucleus of comet Halley. Its images showed for the first time the shape of a comet nucleus and found the first evidence of organic material in a comet. In 1992, after a long cruise through space, Giotto was directed to Comet Grigg–Skjellerup, which it passed just 200 km from the nucleus.

Rosetta

Rosetta was the first spacecraft to rendezvous with a comet when it arrived at 67P/ Churyumov–Gerasimenko on 6 August 2014 and entered orbit around it. It was the first spacecraft to follow a comet on its journey around the Sun and measure the increase in activity as the icy surface warmed up. On 12 November 2024, Rosetta’s Philae probe became the first to land on the surface of a comet. On the way, it also flew by two asteroids, Steins and Lutetia.

Hera

Launching later this year, the Hera mission is part of the world’s first test of asteroid deflection. The main spacecraft and its two CubeSats will perform a detailed post-impact survey of the asteroid Dimorphos following the impact of NASA’s DART mission in September 2022. Hera will turn the grand-scale experiment into a well-understood and repeatable planetary defence technique.

Mission to Apophis

Meanwhile, ESA’s Planetary Defence Office is also considering a number of options for a mission to asteroid Apophis. In April 2029, Apophis will come closer to Earth than our geostationary satellites and will be visible to the naked eye. The trajectory of Apophis is very well known, and it poses no risk to Earth, but it offers a unique chance to study such a large asteroid up close and better prepare for one that is.

Comet Interceptor

Looking further ahead, ESA’s future Comet Interceptor will build on the findings of Giotto and Rosetta. Comet 12P/Pons-Brooks is a returning comet that has made a number of previous appearances over the centuries. Launching in 2029, the unique aspect of the Comet Interceptor mission is that it will target a newly discovered comet entering the inner Solar System for the first time. Such a ‘pristine’ comet would carry material unaltered since the formation of the planets.

Special mention: SOHO

While not a dedicated comet mission, no list of prolific comet observers would be complete without mentioning the ESA/NASA Solar Heliospheric Observatory (SOHO). SOHO is used to monitor the unpredictable activity of the Sun, but previously undiscovered comets often pass through its field of view on the way to their fiery demise. While Pons and Brooks still hold the top spots for visual discoveries, we now spot most new comets using large telescopes either on Earth or on satellites in orbit. SOHO has spotted almost 5000 comets.

Source: European Space Agency

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[frankhightower]

Beware of this scam

A few days ago, Sharon (relatively new user, blank gallery) fav's one of my arts on DeviantArt and notes me saying that she loves my style and wants to paint something of mine.

So I start by thinking she wants to do a collab. I ask and she says she wants to paint it, oil on canas, and that I would give her a finished, fully-detailed piece and she'd credit me on the oil painting.

So now I think she does reproductions. Why would she want me?

The piece will be huge, a crowd of humans and a crowd of furries. My most expensive commission ever, even at my prices.

Okay, but the art of mine she fav'ed was the Great Seal of the Mouse Government. Did that impress her that much?

I tell her we can start as soon as I get payment and she says "oh."

I'm thinking I asked her for too much money upfront, so I say "all I need is $10 for the initial sketch: the two main characters, and we can work up from there"

"No no no no no, I'll contact you tomorrow"

The next day she wants a second piece, and now they're not on canvas, but murals. Also, her name is now Hannah since we've moved to Discord. I tell her my price and she says, "no, it has to be the same price as the first." But, I object, there's no crowd in this one. That is not how I work. "It has to be for the same price. My client was impressed by your experience" What client? (The one who owns the walls the murals go on, of course!) What experience? (I didn't even have a price sheet before this year!) "They'll both cost him the same in supplies so the original artwork has to cost the same. You'll get the paycheck tomorrow" "You mean a literal check or...?" "Check as in Cheque. My client is very old" I say that's fine so long as I can digitally deposit it with my bank app. "You can't deposit it tomorrow, it's a holiday" I'm pretty sure the internet still works? "I mean, you can, but it will take longer to clear and we need to get started right away" Wouldn't it be cleared on the same day regardless then?

She seems like she wants the information for the endorsement (and I know that means account numbers). That's not how checks work, you're supposed to endorse it yourself. I ask why does it matter? "Oh, just in case he asks!"

Day 3 begins with her asking if I want to be on the old guy's company payroll. The job is now to populate an art gallery. "What company?" I ask "Here's the back of the check! Remember you can't deposit it today!" "...Where's the front?" "Of course he'd have to meet with you to put you on the payroll" "like... a zoom meeting?" "Conference call. He's veeery old fashioned." "Where's the front of the check?" "So I'll need your phone number" "Here's a phone number you can call me at. It's a burner. You can't create accounts with it." "Oh, hahaha, it's a burner? I hadn't even realized! I just need your email to send you the check, and you'll additionally get all the paints you asked for, of course" "...No"

So, aside from the red flags I comically highlighted, you can almost hear her brain going "Crap, he has low prices. It's not going to work for that little money!" "Crap, digital deposit. He's not going to give me an address!" "Crap, he knows how digital deposits work! The check will bounce before we grab him!" "Crap, he knows how checks work!" "Crap, I can't use this phone number!" "Crap, he already knows I can send the check through the chat and won't give me an email!" "Crap crap crap!"

And yes, I know it's a "her". There were voice calls. (Her accent was slightly different each time).

It wasn't at all funny as it was happening, though.

Posted using PostyBirb

[dsumps]

WOW! It has been how long?

For a second there, I thought I left the internet for real. Nah, turns out when the whole world panics about the death of a platform, somehow everyone returns the next week like nothing’s happened. Despite migrating my followed content on my other platforms, I STILL ended up using Twitter the most in viewing online content.How could I stop? Everyone still uses that platform to some degree. Despite this, I did promise that Tumblr would be my new place for posts (clearly followed up on that order :P), and I still haven’t (and won’t) post another thing on that platform for god knows how long.

Sooo, how have I been (if that even matters to you)? 

I’ve been fine, I got through my first year of college at ASU, and overall I’m just been chilling with the inactivity. The most I ever post online is through my personal Instagram, which for obv reasons, I won’t be sharing. Besides that its been scroll, like, next platforn, scroll, like,... the usual.

It’s been sort of nice to be afk from the constant active schedule, especially when there are important things to worry about than being on social media. I honestly don’t know how some of y’all do it better, haha. 

How about the art? Where’s the art?

I really did leave the blog hanging with the doodle sharing. There’s still several pages of sketches there, but I haven’t really drawn in like... a year. Again, college had me on a chokehold, and will again once next semester begins, so I haven’t really done much creatively for awhile. I MIGHT, but I don’t promise. Social media for me, isn’t much of a priority than living for real life, which pretty much defines my reason for inactivity. Not that I don’t care about it, otherwise this account would’ve been deleted long ago.

Any new interests / miscellaneous section?

This is just to update y’all about my current interests and such. Pretty much realized through the past year that I don’t like Pokémon as much as I thought. During Gen 8, I made it an effort to become engulfed into the currents of the games, anime, media, etc... and honestly it was a hassle, and I hated it, especially on Twitter. I pretty much learned that the only thing I actually cared about were the various Pokémon themselves. Especially apparent from my ever-growing collection of plushes that I dedicate to once in a while. It’s a massive money waster, but god do I love it. My recent favorite is the Cult of the Lamb plush I had to order in under a minute before being sold out. That was a fun experience, and I know I’ve sneaked him into several ASU promotional material. Funny I mention that, because I haven’t really played video games either since college. 

If there is ONE thing I do have current interest in, that would be this one small show you may have heard of this show I’m not sure if you know this show so ill show you the show so you know its a little show called Bluey. I’ve been obsessed with this show since the end of my winter break, funny enough initial interest came from watching TikTok's of people (jokingly, I hope) to compete with 6 y/olds for Bluey plushes at Target. I guess i’ve liked too many of these posts for TikTok to start sharing full episodes on my page, and I've never been the same since. I’ve caught up with the series, and I gotta say it’s one of my favorite current pieces of animated media to come out as of late. Without saying too much, this show made me question many aspects of my life several times to where I could say I’ve actually learned how to better myself a bit. It’s crazy to me that a goddamn toddler program from Australia is actively teaching me morals at age 19, but here we are, I guess. 

Will there be Bluey in this blog? maybe, but I plan on posting Bluey related content on another blog @dsumpsbluey For now, my primary blog will share primarily Pokémon, art, and Pokémon art; not that I’m gatekeeping Bluey, but I got something planned for that other blog (plans, I’m totally great with those). Other than that, that’s pretty much it with what’s up with me. Sorry for being inactive for as long as I did, real life just caught up to me that’s all. Hopefully if you’re still reading this, you realize my current position of my blog. Just know that unless specified by me, this blog isn’t dead. Good day, or night, and until the next post.

[remynisce]

Last attack I ended up doing for artfight. Yuu belongs to @tiotitulo (MFoG in artfight)

[writerwrites]

All I Want is You

Title: All I Want is You

Summary: You’ve been trying to celebrate your body with a secret Tumblr side blog where you make sinday posts in your new lingerie. It’s a small endeavor and you don’t interact with most of your followers, but when a certain blog does a deep dive liking your posts you can’t help yourself. You just hope things won’t get out of hand.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Smut 18+, Minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, some language

A/N: This is my B3 - Mutual Masturbation entry to the Steve Rogers Bingo Challenge. @steverogersbingo​​​​ | Jammies | Moodboard

Steve opened the app on his phone; that dark blue square with its neon cyan and pink lowercase ‘t’. When he’d gotten his first smartphone a year after trying a flip phone, Tony had taken it upon himself to put a bunch of popular apps on it. It was a little too overwhelming at first, the world of hashtags and fandoms. Now, years later, he still didn’t know how to change his username from ‘captain-oblivious’ but he liked the simplicity of the ‘heart’ feature to save things he liked to look at, enjoyed reading stories people wrote and looking at their art. Steve wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he also liked that the site wasn’t promoted for porn, but gave him access to things he was curious about and when he found your blog…

You saw your phone light up and thought nothing of it. It was sinday, after all. Part of your New Year’s resolution was to accept your body and you’d been breaking out of your shell by posting pictures on a sideblog in new lingerie every Sunday- face cropped out, of course. You’d avoided looking at the follower count or the notes on your posts for months. Instead, you focused on the interactions through your inbox and messenger on the app. Sure, some people were crass or flat out degenerate assholes, but that was the thing about Tumblr, the people that were nice people could be really body positive and supportive. They outweighed the negativity. Still, this particular type of blog had a way of alluring creeps so you rarely were the one to initiate a conversation. However, when your phone wouldn’t stop pinging with notifications curiosity got the better of you.

“How far back are you gonna go, buddy?” You whispered to yourself as you scrolled through the notifications that read ‘captain-oblivious liked your post’. That made you smile, such an odd username making you wonder if he even knew you could see what he was doing. Flipping to his blog, you were met with an even more surprising combination of reblogs. An array of reblogs from history blogs that highlighted minorities and women in military roles, reblogs of stunning buildings around the world, a few shared songs or reblogs of fanart that used lyrics, and then every couple dozen posts a stunning sketch of a person, building, or cartoon. “Who are you?”

Biting your lip and maybe even against your better judgement, you clicked the ‘follow’ button and fell back into your bed. You’d showered, brushed your teeth, and you really should be falling asleep… You should, but instead, you’re still scrolling through this stranger’s blog while they make it through months of sinday posts. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, but there you were sending a message to captain-oblivious, “Planning to have a good night or am I officially your muse for your next sketch?” Tossing your phone onto the blankets next to you, you reached into your nightstand for your vibrator. Just as you’re about to turn it on, your phone chimes and you’re scrambling to find it tangled with your comforter while you squeeze your thighs together, trying not to drop the toy.

Steve froze the moment he saw your follow. He didn’t know the etiquette, didn’t know what you thought about him, and for the first time in a very long time he found himself nervous. Then you messaged him and he dropped the phone like it had burst into flames. His blue eyes stared wide at it as if there was alien tech lying face down on his bedroom floor and he was waiting for it to explode. A part of him felt small again, pre-serum small. What would Bucky do? With shaking hands and a jagged breath, Steve picked up his phone and read your message. He typed out four responses before telling you, “Can’t it be a bit of both without that being creepy?”

Fuck, that was kind of endearing. “It would be less creepy if I had a name to go with all the likes. Y’know, most people have their name and age on their blog descriptions to avoid people thinking they’re minors consuming adult content. Telling people you’re ‘over 100’ in your description isn’t particularly convincing, just saying.”

He stared at your response and bit his lip. Sure, he could lie, but he didn’t know where in the world you were or if you would believe each other if you were being honest. Typing on his phone he clicked away and hit send, “It’s Steve and I’m definitely not a minor. Just bad with the app… or any app really.” He hesitated to ask for your name, biting his lip as he tapped in a few different messages and then clicked send accidentally on, “I’d ask you your name but I know more about you than you know about me.”

With a smile on your lips you replied with your name- your real name. You assumed he wouldn’t believe you anyways. If only you knew that he was on the other side of the phone wrapping his lips around that word and the thought alone of hearing you whimper just hearing your name on his lips was getting him hard. “You still there?” Hoping the message didn’t come off as impatient you spread out on your bed, naked as the day you were born, fingers moving down your skin.

“Yeah, still here. Just thinking about you in nothing but those stockings saying my name.” God, he muttered into his empty bedroom, what am I doing? Was this too forward? He swallowed, watching you type, certain he’d crossed a line.

“You want more? I could put them back on… Otherwise, I really am just in nothing.” Biting your bottom lip you hit send before you got second thoughts you quickly typed. “I’m not a sex worker. Not that I have a problem with that, but I don’t want your money. I’m just in the mood for some... fun.” Steve watched and you rambled in your room before muttering a quick fuck it, “FaceTime, no faces?”

Swallowing, Steve blinked away the shock and confusion. Curiosity was going to walk the dog tonight, he mused before replying with his number and asking for fifteen minutes. You promptly agreed, wondering what he needed the fifteen minutes for. On the other hand, you just wanted to clean up your bedroom, adjust the lighting, and pick out a little mask to disguise yourself in case your phone flashed your face on this little naughty call and this Steve ended up being the type of pervert that screenshot or recorded the call. After all, you had a bad little habit of falling apart when you got off and something told you that you’d be doing a lot of that tonight.  He looked around his room one more time as his phone chimed. No more pictures with Peggy or Bucky on the bedside table, shield tucked under the bed, and any Avengers logo clothing thrown into the hamper out of sight. Two rings, three, and he picked up. A nervous laugh passed his lips as he fell onto the bed and kept the phone at his chest and lower.

“Breathing heavy.” You observed, voice soft. “Excited to see me?” That accent, the familiar drawl of a New Yorker. It made him a little hesitant to speak. “It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll hear you say my name at some point tonight. First, you asked for nothing but the stockings, so I thought I’d give you the full show.”

Steve looked down at his screen, flipping his camera so you’d only see his lower stomach and legs as he pushed his fly down and pushed off his jeans, eager to enjoy every moment of your company- distant as it may be. You smiled and he caught it, your face obscured only by your hair and a mask. Slowly walking back toward a mirror, Steve drank in your curves in the soft light of your bedroom as he realized you weren’t lying about being naked. A low hum passed his lips and then you propped up one leg, slowly pulling on the stockings, the thick stitched black line going straight up to the back of the middle of your thigh. You could hear his breathing get heavy as he exhaled, loud and slow. Turning to give him the best view, you put on the other. Admiring yourself in the mirror, you looked back at your phone, mounted and waiting for you to drink him in too. Biting your finger you slowly bent over and trailed your fingers up the stockings. It elicited the exact reaction you wanted, that long, deep groan of, “Fuck.”

“Still want me in nothing but the stockings.” You walked toward your phone slowly, crossing one leg over the other so he could admire your hips, breasts, and curves as you kept your head down, eyes up on the camera through your hair and long eyelashes before you picked the device up and fell onto your bed.

“Better. I wish I was there to run my hands up your legs, across your body. You’re absolutely breathtaking.” He meant it, rock hard and pulling himself out of his boxer briefs.

If you weren’t wet seeing how hard you made him you were definitely clenching needily around nothing when you saw how thick and long he was. A soft whimper passed your lips and you bit your bottom lip to try and catch it, flipping your own camera around so he could see you from the waist down, he asked for the stockings after all. Trying to give yourself a minute to catch your breath you whispered, “The man speaks in whole sentences.” Slipping a finger under the lace hem of the stockings, you moved toward your inner thigh, teasing yourself like you wished he was there to tease you. “If you were here, where would you put your mouth first?”

His hand was still pumping his cock as he swallowed down his answer. It took him a moment, then he confessed, “If I was there I’d kiss you before I ever touched you. What would your perfect mouth taste like if I was there kissing you?”

“A white wine called Moscato Dulce. Sweet, a hint of honey and peach.” You picked up the nearly empty glass on the nightstand and brought it to your lips.

“Turn the camera around. Please?” Your breath hitched then picked up as you did what he commanded and then questioningly begged for, uncertain of why you were so eager to please him. When you did, your lips were damp from your small sips and he sighed. “You have an accent you know?” You frowned a little and he tried to recover, “No, it’s not a bad thing! It’s comforting actually. I was really nervous and then I just heard it and …” You watched him stroke himself slowly, your tongue running across your lips as he swiped his precum over his tip, making it glisten. “It’s Brooklyn, isn’t it.”

With a bashful nod you confirmed, hoping that he wouldn’t just assume you were still in Brooklyn, though you definitely were. You stayed quiet, sipping your wine as you watched him keep himself hard with lazy long strokes as he watched your mouth. Still nervous about talking about where you were, you asked, “Tell me something I wouldn’t expect from you.”

“Seeing as how you probably think I’m just some pervert from the internet, I’m sure anything could cover that.” He stopped stroking himself again, clearing his throat and then reciting part of a somewhat familiar poem:

I set her on my pacing steed,

       And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

       A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,

       And honey wild, and manna-dew,

And sure in language strange she said—

       ‘I love thee true’.

“That’s what I thought when you said you tasted like that wine.” Steve rubbed his palms down his thighs and adjusted his frame on the bed. “It’s John Keats.”

You only let him see the blush on your cheeks for the briefest moment, flipping the camera around once more and giving him a new view with the mirror and your legs crossed, blocking his view. Keats was familiar to you, but you doubted that he could make out the books on the built-in shelves behind you. You slowly opened your legs, letting him enjoy the view as you asked, “Do you want to set me on your pacing steed?”

His cock twitched at the thought and he grabbed his length once more, stroking himself a little faster, fist tighter. You admired the veins in his arms as he groaned. The sound alone made you weak in the knees. “Do you doubt it?”

“Maybe a little.” Your words trailed off as you slipped your fingers into your wet folds, circling your clit slowly as you watched Steve stroke himself. The pair of you were quiet like that for a while, breathing growing louder on both ends of the line until you moaned out his name and made him groan so you said it again, “Steve…”

He slowed down, watching you do the same. “What is it, Honey?”

A small moan managed to pass your lips despite your best efforts to keep the needy sounds stifled. What were you trying to say, you thought as you kept playing with yourself. Teasing your opening you slipped the tip of one finger into your entrance and whimpered as you clenched. This was both a turn on and completely unsatisfying. Arching your finger you pushed it deeper into your dripping core. Steve kept his slow pace but he gripped himself more tightly, choking his firm muscle wishing it was you wrapped around him and not his fist. “It’s been so long since anyone’s made me feel good.”

“Do I?” Steve bit his lip when he heard you moan a fleeting ‘mmhm’ and added, “But it’s not enough, is it? Tell me what you need.”

That’s when you caught it, his Brooklyn accent. Your hand stilled for a minute before playing it off by changing pace. You’re just hearing things or maybe he’s a New Yorker and your own accent is rubbing off, you told yourself as you tried to think of how to answer his question. You weren’t being paid, you didn’t know each other at all, so you weren’t sure why you felt almost compelled to lie, to hide how badly you wanted him. “You’re gorgeous, into art and poetry, confident enough to flirt with a stranger naked, and you recite poetry in a voice that could make a phonebook sound sexy. What do I need?” With a gasp and a whimper you picked up your pace, giving him a show as you started to tighten around your own fingers. “I need your permission to come, Sir.”

What you hadn’t expected was for him to come the moment you breathlessly said ‘sir’. Long ropes of thick cum covered his stomach as Steve groaned a long, drawn out, “Fuck.” It brought you to a small release, and left you feeling empty. Rather than linger on the thought of how badly you missed being full and satisfied, seated on a man, you picked up your wine, you turned the camera around. Unknowingly, your tongue was running across your lips again and he groaned watching you as you watched his thick cock go semi-soft. “I know you’re probably used to hearing this but there isn’t a part of you that I don’t want to touch.”

Biting into your bottom lip, you shook your head ‘no’. “It doesn’t matter what I look like out of my clothes, if no one that really knows me wants that.” He was cleaning himself up, listening and thinking of a way to ask what you meant while trying not to call everyone a blind idiot but then you elaborated. “I’m a pretty shy person. I don’t flirt and I’d always rather listen than talk about myself. I guess you could say I’m a bad date.”

“Being quiet doesn’t make a person a bad date. You can’t hear well enough to talk at a concert, need to be quiet in a theater, swimming even hinders a conversation. All of those could be great dates and require very little words from you, so maybe you just need to find someone better at figuring out the things you enjoy.” Steve chucked the boxer briefs he’d used to clean off his stomach to the hamper before turning his attention back to his phone. “So what if you don’t show your affection with words, everyone shows it differently, wants it differently. Hell I’d be happy to see you every day if you kept wearing that red lipstick and biting your lip every time I called you beautiful.”

“Steve, I…” trailing off for a moment, you tried to think of a way to say what you wanted without being pushy.

It was as if the alarms in your head were suddenly blaring and maybe it’s because they were. An alarm rang through Steve’s end of the phone and you watched as the screen went dark before you heard a quick, “Shit.” There was some shuffling and a light shone on the floor of his room. You could have sworn you saw a metal shield under his bed, just for a moment, before Steve had the screen flipped to his chest. “Hey, I have to go. Work thing…”

“Another time then?” He didn’t say anything, clearly moving around as the alarm kept going off. “Hey, can I ask you the same question before you go?” Steve paused, wondering what you meant as he held the phone close enough to his chest so you couldn’t see the vibranium shield getting pulled out from under the bed or the tactical suit being pulled out of his closet. You took his silence as an invitation. “Steve, what do you want?”

Watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and you half expected him to hang up on you. “Honestly? All I want is you.” He ran his tongue across his lips as you tried to remember how to breathe and, before you could pull yourself together he whispered, “Goodnight, Honey. I’ll text you when I’m back in Brooklyn.”

With uncharacteristic confidence and more questions than answered you managed a breathy, “It’s a date.” Watching the corner of his mouth curve into a gleaming smile he gave a quick wave and hung up. “Goodnight, Steve.” You giggled as you picked up your toy and tossed your phone aside, determined to put yourself to sleep and quiet your mind by mentally replaying the phone call until your neighbors knew his name.

A/N: I’ve never written a fic where the people in it are alone. So I hope the dialogue and style were clear despite it being an odd approach to the prompt. I also hope this isn’t a flop to returning from my month of absence. I’m pretty nervous about it. As always, thank you for reading. Little comments and questions are the serotonin my brain continues to deny me so please leave some love, even if it’s just an emoji comment. It keeps me motivated and I really like making new tumblr friends.

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added to one of my tag lists.

[ceruleanchillin]

Honeymoon Headcanons: Mayans Edition

Characters: Angel, Coco, EZ x F!Reader

Miami (Angel)

It wasn’t difficult at all to decide where the two of you would take your honeymoon. When you weren’t gonna be naked, Angel wanted you in sundresses and bikinis. You wanted him in linen shirts, and to feel him up in a club. Couple that with you both wanting a tropical environment, and Miami it is.

Angel letting you handle the accommodations, because you seem to know more about what you wanna see/where you wanna go than he does. He only cares about a bed and shower for when he’s not taking you in the inappropriate places. He just hands over the cash, though he complains about his hurt wallet.

Angel hard as a rock when he sees your new name on your plane ticket.

The two of you nearly missing your flight because your husband needs to “show his wife he loves her”.

You babying him on the flight, because Angel has never flown anywhere before.

“Mami, it’s perfectly valid to feel like a flying toaster can’t safely get you anywhere but a casket. Which they can’t even put you in, because you’ll be everywhere!”

Cue you distracting him with kisses and dirty words in his ear, which gets you initiated into the Mile High Club

Barely making it into the cute little condo before the two of you are at it again, collapsing in the late hours to jet lag and mutual satisfaction.

Your first official day is spent dragging Angel around the humid streets. Knowing he stresses easily if you plan things too tightly, and wanting to wing it yourself. It’s surprising how well you to fit in, it almost feels like home.

Angel switching from being jealous, because your tiny cotton sundress is attracting more than just his attention, to him kissing all over your dewy skin because so much of it is visible.

You getting as jealous as Angel, because it seems like each place you drag him to has openly interested ladies. It’s the white linen shirt that he won’t fully button no matter how many times you try to make him.

Angel basking in the attention, and even playing it up to force you to be the one to initiate inappropriate public sex.

Smirking when you break after a woman pays for his (and unintentionally yours) order at a small cafe you stepped into and you snap and drag him to a hidden place.

“I only love you querida, mi alma.” he whispers in your ear when he bottoms out inside you.

You two are a beautiful couple. Photogenic as all hell. Alone, neither of you have a problem attracting interest, but together, you make people want to be seen around you. That’s why you have no problem club hopping to all the exclusive places.

Angel taking photos and videos of you dancing because he’s so enthralled. He can’t wait to show your kids one day when they ask why he fell for you, and he explains how full of life you are.

Getting enough liquor in Angel to get him dance somewhere away from the club, especially since he (lies) and says he can’t.

You and Angel competing to see who can get the most people to buy your drinks + the two of you losing track because you both get drunk.

A quickie in the coatroom is the prize, Angel fucking you to the hypnotic beat.

Spending a few hours apart the following day, only to still keep texting and FaceTiming each other until you met up, touch starved, at a small restaurant.

Deciding to spend the rest of the day at your Airbnb laid up under each other after Angel scores weed. Teasing Angel about his monetary complaints when you spend all night enjoying the small backyard pool.

Angel thanking God for getting an adventure loving woman as his soulmate when you wake him up the next afternoon to inform him you rented jet skis for the day.

You being impressed when, while jet skiing, Angel silver tongues your way into an invitation to a nearby yacht party out of the host.

FaceTiming Gilly to make him jealous that you two are doing Hookah and drinking Casamigos in a hot tub.

Angel ramping up the mockery when EZ and Coco appear on screen, attracted by Gilly’s whining. Everyone looking overworked and salty, while you and Angel are living your best non-sober lives.

Slipping away from the party to one of the rooms on the boat, because once again, you and Angel never know when to stop teasing each other before it ends up in sex.

Feeling bold enough to suggest that since Angel’s been documenting so much of the trip, that maybe he should film this too.

The aftermath being a surprisingly sweet series of kisses and confessions where the two of you express how thankful you are to have found each other. How you can’t wait to build a forever together.

Marfa + Roswell (Coco)

No one knew how you got Coco to agree to travel for your honeymoon until you finally revealed where you were going. Splitting a week between Marfa and Roswell.

You and Coco are that “weird” conspiracy, incense, and weed couple, so it makes sense.

Giving Coco an edible before you leave, because like Angel, he doesn’t fuck with air travel like that.

“They got me with that bullshit in the military, but that was out of my control. You askin’ a lot right now, you’re lucky you’re cute mujer.”

Coco getting progressively handsy during the flight as the edible hits. Eventually, you stop fake-fighting his neck kisses and forward touches.

Also like Angel in that he’s unafraid to become a member of the Mile High Club.

The ride from the El Paso airport, to the car rental place, to Marfa takes far longer than Coco would like.

He’s used to long stretches of trip on his bike, and when you notice him becoming antsy, you distract him with interesting facts about Marfa.

The entire time, Coco can’t help but think that you’re the perfect road trip co-pilot, only to realize he actually meant his life in general now.

Coco proud as hell when you fall in love with his accommodations choice like he did. The colorful airstream trailers of the El Cosmico hotel are the two of you through and through.

You both trying to be responsible adults and refresh after travel, but continuing to get lost in each other during the whole process.

Shower sex -> Making out while drying off -> Touching while searching through your bags for something to wear -> bed sex -> repeat

Looking thoroughly mauled when you finally manage to get Coco off of you and into the car in search of food the next afternoon.

Coco being happy you can’t cover up due to the heat, while you wonder what superpower he and his boys have that let them wear flannel and long sleeves in the heat.

Dragging Coco to a cute cafe you saw on instagram, and him knowing, by the hipster design of it, that his wallet is about to cry.

Stealing food from his plate, and laughing at him sucking his teeth and whining when he catches you.

“You’re stuck with me forever now Johnny sooo….get used to this.”

“Small price to pay for that I guess.”

Finding small shops to go to and being Siamese twins in every one. Coco showing he has good taste in a lot of things one might think he wouldn’t. Him opening up his wallet at everything you 'ooh' and 'aww' at. He can’t help it, he likes you happy, and your kisses and adoring looks are addicting.

For almost everything you get, Letty gets something too. Neither of you wants that tantrum when you get back.

You fighting yourself to avoid the art supply store, and Coco not having it.

“I have so many supplies already, it’s an addiction at this point.”

“So? Get some more. It’s our week, we shouldn’t stress about shit.”

Coco bragging on your talents and successes to the art shop cashier when you checkout.

“Cocoooo.” you murmur hiding your face in his shoulder, arms around his waist.

“Don’t be shy ma, you’re fucking amazing. I love your skills.”

Cue the cashier swooning at the two of you.

Finding unique liquor stores and getting tipsy on samples. It becomes twice as fun when locals, and other tourists alike, start discussing the Marfa lights with you, and you and Coco impress everyone with your ideas.

Being invited to a bonfire smoke session with the other El Cosmico guests when you get back.

Sketching Coco by the firelight, because he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in that moment, and now he’s officially yours.

The sex being on another level of intimate that night, because all day you and Coco have been engaging in your respective love languages, and it culminates in mutual need for each other.

The drive to Roswell being more tolerable for Coco, but he still misses his bike. Your excitement about AlienFest is so palpable however, he quickly forgets.

Your hotel being more conventional, but the people you meet making up for it. Finally, you and Coco aren’t the weirdest ones in the room.

Taking the time before the festival starts to check in with friends and family and accumulate odd souvenirs for them. You believe Coco is intentionally getting them stuff they’ll hate.

“Taza won’t wear that baby, he has better taste in jewelry than UFO earrings.”

“Ok, but can he bitch about us not getting him anything? Plus, you can guilt anyone into anything.”

Doing cute edible pastries at the festival.

“You know Aliens are demons right? Jack Parsons and L. Ron Hubbard were doing summoning rituals in the Mojave in 1946, and Roswell was the following year.”

“Word?…Shit. Tell me that again when we’re not rolling. I wanna read about it………you’re so smart mami.”

Coco realizing between every snack stop, every dance he shares with you, every trinket you pick up, and every little conspiracy tidbit you share, that you’re his wife now. That the peace he’s been feeling all week, that he thought he’d never have, is going to be his new normal.

New Orleans (EZ)

You and EZ both enjoy engaging with history and culture, and felt that your honeymoon should be built off of your shared interests. During your meticulous wedding planning, it was decided New Orleans would be the honeymoon destination. It didn’t hurt that you missed your southern roots too, even if you weren’t from New Orleans.

Traveling with EZ is a dream considering you’re both pretty organized, together people. He’s not afraid of flying, but you’re always a little nervous.

EZ being Best Husband™️ and soothing even the most minor of your stresses by turning your attention to the excitement of your trip and your new relationship status.

Teasing EZ in-flight won’t get you Mile High Club initiated, because he finds it much more entertaining to punish you by letting you work the both of you up, and making you stay that way for the duration of the flight. He’s got enough will power to suffer through it, because your soft whines make it worth it.

The airbnb is everything it was promised to be, and you’d appreciate that later, but all you can think of is your husband when you step through the door. That’s the other half of why EZ likes to leave you waiting. Your aggression and exclusive desire for him gets, and keeps, him hard.

It rains the following day, which is just as well, because neither of you are quite ready to stop physically expressing your love for each other. The day consists of ordering food, falling out of your clothes and onto each other, separating to read, falling back on each other, and quick naps.

Angel sending mocking texts in your Reyes group about how you’re trying to turn his brother bamma like you, only to stop when you threaten him with no souvenirs.

EZ and you taking responsibility for your own tour because let’s face it, you both know exactly what you want to see, and can plan a more satisfying tour for the both of you. You take turns deciding where to go next.

When it’s his turn, EZ picks an art museum, and can’t quit smiling about it. You think it’s because he picked a place he really wanted to go to.

“Babe, I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” your excitement always makes EZ’s heart race with his own.

He hands you the guide brochure he picked up at the door, folded to the section he wants you to look at.

“Faith Ringgold exhibit?!”

He hums and nods, grunting when you knock into him with a hug.

“Thank you for thinking of me. I love you.” you look up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears and he just kisses you, afraid he’ll cry if he says anything.

The two of you avoid the tourist trap spots for lunch and find a cute family owned cafe. You order for the both of you based on what you know about southern cuisine and both of your tastes.

You love watching EZ fall in love with the food as he keeps asking “Can you make this?” about everything he eats.

The two of you walking through the Garden District in the evening. Hands swinging between you with no plans but to admire the beautiful homes and foliage.

EZ noting how awestruck you are, and you describing what you love about the historic, towering homes.

He catches that when you describe what your dream home in the area would be, he and your future children are mentioned frequently, and it makes butterflies dance in his stomach. He can picture your family in the yards around him.

The two of you almost make it back to your Airbnb, but give into your baser urges after all the domestic conversation. EZ pulls you into an alley for a quickie, the two of you fighting to silence the other’s vocal expression.

You teasing EZ after that he’s more like his brother than he thinks. Him teasing back the two of you would’ve been caught and arrested if he was like Angel.

The following day is relaxed and less planned. The both of you getting thoughtful gifts for each member of your family, blood and otherwise. EZ scores major points for the gifts he suggests for your mom and dad, and you kind of want to jump him again.

EZ is glad you’re impressed, but it’s nothing to him. It all comes naturally because he loves you so much, and refuses to be anything other than the husband he knows you deserve.

AN:

I didn’t want to add this, cuz I wanted to end on a sweet note, but you just know Angel would accidentally send that vid to one of his boys.

Personally, I lose it for shit like this. Anything domestic in writings is my jam, so I decided to make these headcanons.

- Fun fact: Jet Ski is kind of like Bandaid in that it’s become the generic term for “personal water vehicles”, but it’s actually a specific brand’s name for their PWVs. I learned this while writing this enjoy💀.

[gunterfan1992]

Interview with Fan Artist loycos!

(Art by loycos)

So a few months ago, I was absent-mindedly scrolling on Tumblr (or was it Twitter?) when I came across something: an Adventure Time fan comic by an artist named loycos. As a person embedded in fan spaces, I find fanart like this all the time, but this time, there was something special about the art I was seeing. It was so... show-accurate!

I don’t mean that necessarily in regard to the art style (although it does feel right at home in the Land of Ooo, while still being its own thing with its own flourishes), but rather in relation to the characterization; the way loycos wrote the characters was spot on. She nailed PB and Marceline’s dynamic as former lovers who deep-down miss one another. She nailed Finn’s naive heroism and his one-sided crush on PB. She nailed Jake’s goofball energy. It was perfect.

In the past, I’ve only interviewed people affiliated with the show’s production, but I thought I’d mix things up a bit and reach out to some fan artists that I think are fantastic. As such, I’m delighted to share with you an interview I had with loycos, who answered my questions about her art, her history with Adventure Time, and where her work is headed!

What is your 'artistic origin' story?

[It’s] kind of a corny answer, but I've been drawing since I remember myself. My earliest drawing memories are drawing Clifford (the big red dog) fanart when I was around 5 y/o. I was always more of a "fangirl" artist, [and] I would draw characters from my favorite franchises to illustrate my headcanons and daydream scenarios I'd put them in. That hadn't changed one bit since. I had since gone on to study animation and illustration in official institutions which forced me to design characters and worlds of my own, but when I draw for myself it's always back to fanart (or studies). I don't have any OCs.

Are there particular artists or styles that you were inspired by and/or like to emulate or allude to?

I'd joke that my artstyle is just a mesh of all the franchises I've drawn fanart for over the years, but honestly, is it even a joke? I think you can easily recognize I had a Disney Phase like every other teenager (I didn't have an anime phase though! I know, I'm an anomaly) and [Steven Universe] definitely left it's fat mark on my style too. Out of [Steven Universe]'s storyboarding crew (which I followed very closely over the years) I especially love Raven Molisee and Jeff Liu for their wacky expressions and proportions, and of course Rebecca Sugar for their fluid and carefree lines. When it comes to art in general, I tend to prefer stylized, colorful and brushy styles over realistic or gothic ones, So people like Hue Teo and Patri Balanovsky pop to my mind (and my artstation feed, seriously look them up).

How do you approach your projects; what is your general art process?

It really depends on the type of project I'm doing, though, my [Adventure Time] comics were all pretty similar in their conception: I write down all of my ideas in my notes so I won't forget them. Then I either roughly sketch out the entire comic as fast as I can, or I write a script (if the concept is specifically very dialog heavy) and then sketch it roughly. Then I do the lineart and color, nothing too complicated. The one thing I think is worth noting in my long comic process is that I draw all of my panels on the same document- that way it's easier for me to make sure the characters stay on model and that my panel layout remains fresh. So basically, the way you read the comics on tumblr, as a long scroll, is the format I work on.

How did you come to find Adventure Time? What made you join the fandom?

Adventure Time is one of those shows you just know about, so I don't remember how I first found out about the show. However, I do remember when I started shipping Bubbline—after the episode “Broke His Crown” aired. I somehow ended up in their Tumblr tag and was blown away by the (by 2016's standards) blatant representation. Despite my obsession with them at the time, I never actually watched any episode that didn't feature the girls' relationship. I only started fully watching the show recently. But I did consume a lot of fan content, which I think helped me shape my own headcanons and such. After my initial interest in 2016 I put Bubbline back on the back burner and kept on my [Steven Universe] ramage, until last year's “Obsidian,” which brought me back fully on board the Bubbline decks around 2 weeks before it aired, so I was in maximum hype mode when I watched the special. It did not disappoint [and it] really reminded me of why I loved these characters and their relationship to begin with. I started drawing my own art for the ship shortly after, when I felt like the hype around the special died down and there wasn't much to keep me sustained anymore. I make what I want to see ;)

As for joining the fandom, I don't know if I can be considered a member, seeing how inactive I am most of the time and my very limited list of [Adventure Time] mutuals. I am extremely flattered that my stuff caught ATimers attention in a positive way.

You've done some amazing Bubblegum and Marceline stuff. What draws you to their dynamic?

I'm gay.

OK, seriously now. I have a soft spot for extremely feminine, dainty characters that are very reserved, so PB immediately marked herself as an obvious fav, and the road to shipping her with Marceline (who is such an obvious candidate and a multilayered, fascinating character herself) was a short one. I know calling PB dainty is far from a true statement, but that's what she appeared like on the surface and that's what caught my attention. Another thing is that I love relationships between immortal beings, I think it always adds another layer of complexity to any relationship, especially a romantic one. The whole "getting older without appearing like you've aged" and "watching everyone you love die around you while you stay the same" can surely make 2 beings bond, right? It always felt like PB and Marcy get each other in a way no one else can, they are very different on the surface but share fundamental internal similarities. Oh, and the fact that they're EXES? The romantic tension and the longing? The familiarity and banter they had in every scene they shared?This hit the jackpot on literally every relationship trope that I love. I'd much rather watch a "getting back together" than a "falling in love for the first time" story.

All of this and the fact that they [are] gay. It's really that simple sometimes.

In broad strokes, what is next for you as an artist and/or as a fan?

I have a few [Adventure Time] comics ideas\scripts on the back burner and one that is in the making. I think I'll dabble into some Nintendo fanart cause I've been playing a lot of Smash Bros and [Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild] lately.

I’m so excited to see what comes next! Either way, a huge thanks to loycos for chattin’ with me! If you’d like to check out more of her art, visit her Tumblr and her Twitter page!

[yummyyume]

Of Love and Sunlight - Part 01

I’m cleaning my maribat folder, so have another thing I wrote and never got around to post. There will be three parts, but the last one hasn’t been written yet, so you’ll get it eventually. 

Hope you all like it!

Tittles are adapted from Sunlight by Hozier, because I love this song and I didn’t have any idea how to name this series. 

I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, English is not my first language. I hope it’s still intelligible.

Taglist: 

@alysrose-starchild @vixen-uchiha

If you wish to be added to or removed from the taglist, you can PM me. I’m still not sure how it works. (I think there’s a limit to how many people you can tag?)

.

.

.

A buried and burning flame

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Marinette meets Damian first.

She’s been apprenticing under Audrey Bourgeois for a couple years when she finally gets around to take a business class. She’s determined to build her own fashion business and working under the Style Queen has only reinforced her desire to be in charge of her own brand.

The fashion world is cutthroat, she couldn’t afford to decline Audrey Bourgeois’ apprenticeship offer, but she has had enough of the Bourgeois to last her a lifetime. And now that Chloe has graduated, she’s more often than not in New York with her mom and dealing with two Bourgeois in one day is more than Marinette is willing to do. She endures for now, but the moment she can, she’s running away and never looking back.

It may happen sooner than she had planned actually, because her customer base has been growing steadily since she was fifteen thanks to Jagged and apprenticing under Audrey has made the quality of her work increased exponentially. Even when the apprenticeship ends, Marinette won’t be left adrift. She has commissions planned for the next few months and her portfolio has never look so perfect.

The only thing she really needs now is a solid plan to build her business into a proper fashion house. She wants to see MDC amongst the Big Names of Fashion. So, a business course, no matter how boring it may seem, is what she needs.

Marinette doesn’t realize who she’s sitting next to until two girls cornered her just as she’s about to sit down, a month into the course.

“Aren’t you tired of keeping him for yourself? He’s obviously not interested!” The blond one sneers.

Marinette blinks up at her, distracted from the flower design she was slowly mapping for her next dress. The blond reminds her far too much of Chloe and Marinette already feels a headache building.

“Who?” She asks, nonetheless.

“Damian Wayne!” The brunette hisses, sounding almost scandalized that Marinette has to ask.

Marinette blinks again. She’s going to have to disappoint the poor girl again, because she has absolutely no clue who they’re talking about.

“Who?” She repeats.

“Me,” someone says from behind the two girls, making them jump in surprise before they swirl around with a look close to horror.

“Be gone,” he says in such a cold voice that Marinette almost feels bad for the girls. Almost. All her patience is spent dealing with Chloe and Audrey, she has none left for Chloe wannabes.

The two girls disappeared to the other side of the amphitheater without another backward glance.

The young man with exquisite bone structure, warm brown skin and green eyes who just talked, takes the seat next to her looking quite bored with the whole drama.

Marinette had noticed that he was beautiful weeks ago and that she wouldn’t mind dressing him up if ever given the chance, but again, she had far too much going in her life to really take the time to ogle her table neighbor.

“You’re famous?” She blurts out. She can see it, he’s the kind of handsome that people love to see on tabloid covers. With broad shoulders, a slim waist, and legs for days, he’s the kind of man Marinette wishes she could afford to model for her. She unfortunately doesn’t quite have the means for a professional photo shoot yet.

“Of a sort,” Damian answers coolly. He hesitates a second, before continuing. “My father is Bruce Wayne.”

It takes Marinette a minute to place it.

“Oh right! From Wayne Enterprise, in Gotham, right?” She smiles and offers her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“Charmed,” he replies, shaking her hand firmly, before purposefully turning to face the front of the class and ignoring her.

Marinette internally shrugs. If he doesn’t want to be friend, she’s not going to force the issue. She has already enough famous people to deal with. She doesn’t need to add another one who is not even interested.

Opening her sketch pad to a new page, she goes back to mapping the flower design she was imagining before she was interrupted.

.

In the following weeks, Marinette realizes that she may have been wrong about her assessment of Damian Wayne.

Once she has proven she isn’t going to schmooze up to him, she’s apparently been placed in the category of friendly acquaintances. In no time at all, he knows she’s taking the business course in order to build her own fashion empire, that she’s apprenticing under the Style Queen and that she personally knows plenty of famous people like Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, or even Prince Ali of Achu, and she’s not counting all the other celebrities she had never met but who have commissioned her through Jagged, so Bruce Wayne’s son isn’t all that impressive to her.

The fact that she hadn’t recognized him seems to both pleased him and disgruntled him in equal measures.

But for all the things Damian has managed to weaseled out of her, she still doesn’t know him all that much, so she takes the initiative to invite him out.

“Uncle J is playing the Madison Square Garden in two weeks and asked me how many tickets I wanted, do you want to come?”

Damian actually looks surprise at her invitation.

“I am already romantically involved with someone,” he tells her a bit stiffly, his eyes burning into her own and daring her to say anything about it. Too bad for him, Marinette has faced far scarier things than her classmate.

“I’d love to meet them! Should I ask Jagged for three tickets?” She asks with a bright smile.

Damian visibly deflates at her question, before nodding.

“Yes, please, Marinette. Jon will probably cry if he learns I let go of the opportunity to attend a Jagged Stone concert.”

“Great!” She exclaims, taking out her phone to text her honorary uncle. “So, his name is Jon? How long have you two been together?”

“Two years. But I’ve known him since we were eleven.”

Marinette has to bite her bottom lip to resist the urge to coo. Damian wouldn’t like that. At all.

.

Jon, when Marinette meets him the day of the concert, is nothing like she imagined. He reminds her an overexcited puppy who is so sweet and in love with Damian, it’s enough to give her cavities. Damian, on the other hand, has never looked so soft than when he’s holding hand with his boyfriend.

By the end of the concert, Marinette has both Jon’s and Damian’s phone numbers added to her small list of contacts and Jon has invited her to join the both of them on their expedition to try all the restaurants in New York. Yes, all the restaurants of New York City.

But even though Marinette is going to end up third-wheeling their dates, she can’t find the strength to say no. She doesn’t really have friends in New York, and she misses that. Even Damian, looking soft and warm, tells her he’d like if she’d come, and really what can she do but accept? 

[dearkusuo]

Unchanging

Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.6k

You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.

“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed. 

Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.

You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.

The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along. 

They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.

You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.

Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.

Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.

You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers. 

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun. 

You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.

You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future. 

Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret. 

You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.

He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.

 You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.

‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.

You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.

The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.

“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.

‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.

“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”

Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.

For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him. 

You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.

Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.

You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again. 

 The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.

‘Why are you laughing?’

“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.

‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’

You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.

You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.

‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’

He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.

"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."

'It should be fine if it's you.'

You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.

You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.

‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’

“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'

You pursed your lips in uncertainty.

"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."

'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’

You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.

“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”

‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’

You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

‘Thank you.’

Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook. 

“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”

‘I know.’

He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”

You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.

“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.

‘Violet.’

“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”

‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’

“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.

Saiki shook his head.

“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”

You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.

‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’

Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.

Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face. 

You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.

Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.

Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.

“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”

Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.

“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”

You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.

“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.

A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”

“An indefinite amount of time.”

“Are you ever coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Their glum faces only worsened your mood.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.

No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.

Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.

After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”

You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.

The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.

“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.

You could never say no to him.

Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit. 

You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.

‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.

You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.

He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.

He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.

“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.

What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?

Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum. 

Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision? 

Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.

Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.

Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.

 You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.

Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.

You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out. 

It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.

The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.

"There he is."

The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.

He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.

"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.

You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home. 

Neither one of you let go.

"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.

A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.

He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes. 

"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.

Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.

'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'

“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.

‘Not quite.’

Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.

'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.

“I love you.”

He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.

‘I know.’

Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.

You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.

No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.

[otonymous]

“The Most Beautiful Girl In The World”: The Guys As Fathers (MLQC Headcanon)

Hi dear Nonny!

What a wonderful idea!  We could all use a bit of fluff every now and then 🤣 I hope you’re doing well too!  Sending you much love along with these headcanons!  Hope you enjoy the read! 🥰💖 

Victor:

Daddy’s little princess - this little girl is the CEO of Victor’s heart

She is also the unofficial CEO of LFG: Victor loves to bring her to work with him every now and then, and all the office staff go absolutely ga-ga over her

Goldman.  Is.  Smitten. (Especially since she has a way of softening Victor’s hard as nails exterior)

Victor likes to front like he’s strict, but he’s not fooling anybody.  Just one look at the tenderness in his eyes when he’s looking at his daughter would tell you who’s really the boss

Psst!  He loves to spoil her!

And by spoiling, we don’t mean that she gets whatever she wants, all the time (although daddy’s heart DOES thrill a little inside to see her all bubbly with happiness after he presents her with a gift) — Victor will also ensure that he carves out time from work to spend with his family (there will definitely be a shift in work-life balance)

He won’t let her get away with everything though!  The man will still insist that she be on her best behaviour when necessary, but he is a lot more lax than you would’ve expected from him

Family time would consist of: horseback riding lessons, teddy bear picnics and tea parties (best believe she will be sending an actual invitation in the mail to Mr. Mills) — you will absolutely melt the first time you see Victor perched uncomfortably in a tiny chair, holding a mini plastic teacup to his lips and asking a stuffed cat if it would like another scone

She LOVES to be Victor’s sous-chef in the kitchen, and when she gets a bit older, she’ll also become daddy’s jogging buddy

Victor will always, always read her a bedtime story, even when he’s away from home on business, even if it means interrupting a meeting (Victor will establish a new norm; his peers will come to respect his family values)

The absolute apple of the eye of Victor’s father and aunt: this munchkin can do no wrong.  If she is to be spoiled rotten by anyone, it would be by these two.  

Every time you go over to their place for dinner, it’s pretty much guaranteed that you’ll be leaving with a trunkful of new toys

This little girl would be a good mix of her mother and father: she’ll inherit her father’s jet black hair, but the intensity of her eyes will be softened by your genes

In spite of all this generosity, your little girl will grow up to be far from spoiled

She will be incredibly compassionate, and will go from donating her many, many books and toys to other less fortunate kids as a child to organizing charity functions, etc., as a young adult.  

Victor couldn’t be more proud.

Lucien:

The shift is seismic the very first time Lucien holds his newborn daughter in his arms

“She looks just like you,” he whispers to no one in particular, careful not to wake you as you get one night of precious sleep immediately postpartum before your nights become interrupted by endless wake-feed-soothing back to bed cycles

Lucien doesn’t sleep that first night in the hospital; he spends it cradling your daughter by the light of the moon seeping in through the thin slats of the blinds

The cool rays illuminate every single feature that Lucien sets his mind on memorizing: her eyes — still a little bit swollen, the flare of those tiny nostrils, the sharply defined cupid’s bow of the most perfectly shaped lips

He is putting his face to the downy soft hairs on the crown of her head, nose pressing to cheek to inhale the scent of his newborn daughter

A tiny seed of anxiety begins to sprout from deep within Lucien to know that he will never have this moment again with her, and it feels like time is already slipping from the tight grasp of his hand

But then suddenly, she opens her big, bright eyes.  Quietly, she stares at her daddy, her irises the same colour as the ones drowning in her gaze, and the nervous clench in Lucien’s gut dissolves

And when she opens and closes her mouth in a soundless gape as if to say that everything will be okay, Lucien knows he would give his life in a heartbeat to protect hers

This little girl is wise beyond her years, and will often say things that surprise the adults around her; family friends will refer to her as an “old soul”

She is far from a little chatterbox, preferring instead to listen and observe those around her, her big, bright eyes patiently taking in every detail

Initially, you’ll be concerned that she isn’t speaking as much as other children her age.  Lucien will take his time reassuring you, an almost knowing smile on his lips.

When she does finally speak, she blows everyone away with the relative complexities of her sentence structures

Little genius: your daughter shares her father’s intelligence and can often be found snuggling up under her favourite camphor tree, books and sketching pencils in hand

She loves flying kites with her mommy and daddy

Quiet but kind, she’ll have no shortage of friends and admirers

You might be surprised, but she also has a wicked sense of humour.  Enjoys delivering jokes with the cutest wink in the world.

Her favourite place in the world is daddy’s laboratory.  The noisy whirs of those big, fancy machines make her jump for joy and Lucien cannot help but smile

There are times — especially when you guys are at your happiest as a family — that Lucien has to fight back the anxiety that all this could be taken away from him.  The melancholic tinge in his smile is so slight that even you could miss it at times.  But your daughter will always catch it.  And when she does, she’ll slip her tiny hand within her father’s much larger palm, look up and give him the biggest smile she can muster.  It’ll always bring him back to the moment.

Little though she is, she gives him strength beyond compare

And on the day of her graduation from university at the top of her class, she’ll be given a priceless gift from her parents: a silver pen named Iridescent.

Gavin:

Usually so calm, cool and collected in even the most stressful of situations, Gavin is a nervous wreck when you go into labour

He is pacing back and forth and back and forth in the hospital room.  You almost want to send him on an errand to get some popular street eats with a guaranteed long line up just so he can calm TF down and not get in the nurses’ way

He is offering you ice chips before you even ask for it, patting at your forehead with a facecloth even though you’re not sweating, giving you his hand to hold every two minutes even though you haven’t started pushing yet

When you mention that he should probably try to calm down since you likely have at least another hour to go before your cervix is fully dilated, he nods in agreement and starts doing push-ups and sit-ups on the floor

The battery of Gavin’s phone dies from all of Minor’s messages asking if the baby has arrived yet

Birdcop is fit to burst from all the joy his body just simply cannot contain the moment his little girl arrives

Because now he has not just one, but TWO of you!

Your daughter will be the splitting image of you, except for her striking amber eyes

The names she gives her stuffed animals will be strangely familiar: Fluffy, Softy, Pearly Jr., etc. (you’ll have to ask her whether daddy helped with the naming 🤣).

Minor’s enthusiasm cannot be dampened: he is over so often with food, diapers and offers to do the housework that you basically have to make him your child’s godparent LOL

Gavin is a giant teddy bear when it comes to your daughter: he cannot say no to her and lives to see her smile

She is gifted with her father’s athleticism, and Gavin won’t hesitate to personally instruct her on the art of self-defence starting at a very young age (needless to say, any future suitors will be given very intense once-overs by Gavin, even little boys at the playground; you can never let your guard down)

Eli is on Gavin’s watch list the moment G-man overhears her shyly asking you about “daddy’s handsome coworker” the year she turned 8

Yes, she will also be getting a bracelet with a GPS tracker LOLOL

She is incredibly strong: could probably toss Minor around like a burlap sack by the time she’s 12

This little girl is all about the thrills, screaming, “Go higher, daddy!  Higher!” in Gavin’s ear as he flies with her on his shoulders

He will take her to the BEST places for stargazing at night (when she’s old enough to stay up) — best believe this is something G-man will lament the loss of when she’s all grown up

Yes, the motorcycle will be her ride of choice the moment she gets her licence (much to her parents’ chagrin)

Gavin cannot help but tear up every time he watches her play the piano, especially if she plays with her mother at the same time

Psst!  He has a photo in his study of the two of you sitting next to each other on the piano bench, the late afternoon sun streaming in through big, French windows, dappled by leaves falling from the ginkgo tree planted in the backyard

He only wishes his mother could’ve been there to see his beautiful baby girl

Kiro:

This little star charms absolutely everyone at first sight: the doctors and nurses that help deliver her are completely enamoured with this little bundle of joy

Tears are streaming from Kiro’s bright blue eyes the moment she is placed into his arms for the first time; he’ll bend over to give you the biggest kiss while gently cradling the baby, the salt of your tears mixing together

This little girl has the best laugh: clear and bright and like music to the ears of anyone lucky enough to hear it.

And she laughs often — daddy is hell-bent on filling her childhood with love and joy and will do anything to make her smile

You’ll often see Kiro crawling around the house on hands and knees, your daughter shrieking with laughter as she tugs on his golden hair, yelling “Giddy-up!” over and over again

Genetics aside, let’s just pretend that her hair is long and golden like her father’s.  At times, she literally looks like a doll come to life, especially with those azure eyes

Budding superstar: this girl has inherited her father’s talents when it comes to acting and music.  She is hitting those high notes, projecting that beautiful voice and basically hamming it up all the time just to get a laugh from her adoring family.

Kiro will “complain” about double standards because Savin will always have a tasty treat for her whenever he sees her, saying “Make sure your daddy doesn’t get any, okay?” LOL

At the same time, Kiro decides to (gasp!) cut down on his junk food habit when his daughter is born.  He actually already started out of solidarity during your pregnancy, and wants to be healthy so he can have as much time as possible with his beloved family

Kiro also cuts back on his workload when his little girl arrives.  This daddy is super involved in all aspects of taking care of his baby and his wife.  You’ll never hear him complain about having to change a dirty diaper.  In fact, he even does it better than you do — no leakages here! LOL

Kiro LOVES to dress his daughter up and will often wear matching outfits with her.  Baby and daddy denim overalls?  Check.  Father-daughter couture?  Check.  

Baby globetrotter: you guys will tag along with Kiro when he flies overseas to shoot on location.  Kiro loves having you and the baby near.

When she gets a bit older, you can bet that they’ll be the best gaming buddies (you’ll insist on her having completed her homework first, but Kiro will secretly let her play one game before she starts - “just don’t tell your mom, or else we’ll both be in trouble!”)

Charming and bright, your daughter is also a bit of a tech wiz.  Learns to code at a very young age under her father’s tutelage, and enjoys building computers from scratch as a hobby.

This little girl carries joy with her wherever she goes, spreading it around like warm sunshine

Shaw:

Shaw is soft, soft, soft the moment he becomes a father

He could be blasé about everything else, but not when it comes to his daughter, the absolute treasure of his heart along with his wife

There will be times that you wake up in the middle of the night and find his side of the bed empty.  You’ll hear his footsteps, softly pacing back and forth before a large window as he tries to sooth your infant daughter back to sleep.  Shaw will look like he literally stepped out of a ‘90s Calvin Klein ad campaign, topless and clad only in low slung pyjama bottoms as he cradles your daughter in his arms, the muscles of his biceps bulging in the pale moonlight that casts a silvery glow on his lavender hair.

(Example of a Calvin Klein ad from the 1990s)

Guess your thirst will have to wait till your daughter falls asleep again to be slaked LOL

This little girl will have her father’s amber eyes as well as the fine features of his face — she will slay all the kids in school with her beauty

Loves to snark her dad but is all sweetness to you (Psst! Shaw (not-so) secretly loves it!)

A fast-talker and quick-witted: sometimes, you think you can actually hear her mind working

Absolutely loves her daddy’s skateboard and would much rather learn new tricks on her own board than play with more age-appropriate toys

She is also a bit of a bookworm: loves to read and is often surprising you with new topics of interest, everything from ancient civilizations to meteorology

Your little girl will often snuggle up to him and ask him what he is reading.  Shaw will then proceed to read to her, even if it’s a paper or a textbook.  Her quick mind has been able to grasp even abstract concepts from a very young age.  She’s a bit of a genius in that respect.

Inherits her dad’s love of music.  The two of them will enjoy rocking out in the basement the moment she is big enough to properly hold an electric guitar (with you sneaking peeks every 5 minutes to make sure she’s still got her protective headphones on LOL)

She’ll take after her dad in that she’ll seem uncomfortable with the concept of authority starting at a very young age.  She questions nearly everything and will drive many of her teachers up the wall, although they will also recognize the extent of her incredible intellect.  She’ll set herself apart at school as a leader, having also the charisma to charm those who would wish to follow

Her dad, of course, is absolutely ecstatic to have a daughter capable of thinking for herself instead of blindly following others (and you will be too!)

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

Thanks so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚 

(Please do not copy/alter/edit/repost my work - thanks!)

[poetrusicperry]

the poets and their first summer jobs

i’ve seen some discourse about how rich all the boys/their families are, and of course there would be like very little reason for them to work, but i couldn’t help wondering who would do what for their first jobs (summer jobs bc they couldn’t work while they’re at school). andddd that led me to writing this lol

neil: so neil would have like absolutely zero time for a job between all his normal coursework/extracurriculars and his summer classes (”you know me, always taking on too much”), but i guarantee you he would still take the time to get a job and have his own money to do with whatever he chose. mr. perry wouldn’t care much because it showed neil “taking initiative” or whatever. neil would likely work at a diner as either a bus boy or a waiter. he’s super personable, so he’d always strike up conversations with people sitting at the counter, and he’d get loads of tips bc he’s cute (: he’d bring his summer school work with him to do during lulls in business, which his boss didn’t mind because it’s neil and everyone knows how responsible he is. the poets would come visit him pretty much every day (to eat, see neil, and escape the heat in the air conditioning), likely taking up a whole booth, and making an absolute mess of the area. charlie would be making spitballs, aiming at cameron and knox every time (earning a “charlie, knock it off, i told you three times already! so mature of you, really.” from cameron) and meeks/pitts would try to see how many straws they could connect to make “ultra straw.” todd would come hang out at the counter when neil was closing, admiring his pretty bf as he worked (’: neil would always make todd a chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and rainbow jimmies on the house, claiming, “we have to empty out the ice cream machine anyway” (but really he’d take the cost out of his paycheck, just wanting to make todd happy). his boss would hire him back every summer, loving how much business neil drove in (even if the poets made a mess every time they hung out and ate) and absolutely adoring how much effort neil put into what anyone else would seemingly call a “meaningless” job.

todd: you can’t tell me that todd wouldn’t look forward to working. especially during the summers, it would get him out of the house and away from his parents judging his every move. being the shy introvert he is, he’d likely do things like mowing lawns or gardening for people around his neighborhood. minimal interactions, but still decent pay (as all the people in his neighborhood were likely super rich and could afford to pay him well). the poets’ parents would hire him, after much convincing from their sons (”todd’s just trying to make some money, dad. please?”) and todd would appreciate this more than they ever knew. he’d become super familiar with flower types and he’d become a lot more nurturing after taking care of plants and grass for multiple summers. he’d keep a little journal or notebook with drawings or sketches of the flowers he’d taken care of, complete with descriptions and magazine/newspaper clippings from his mom’s better homes and garden subscription (a lot of his poetry would become nature-related as well). it would be his late night project, or something he’d do if he couldn't sleep (which was pretty common for todd). he’d call neil on the phone some nights and just gush about all kinds of flowers or tell neil how he accidentally got stung by a bee and cried about it because he knew the bee would die (all the while, neil would be listening so intently, taking note about which flowers were todd’s favorites for future use (’: the calls would have to be pretty planned, bc if neil wasn’t working, he was doing school work, or his parents were keeping an annoyingly close watch on him. but sometimes neil would call him impromptu and that made todd just the happiest little camper ever). todd’s nails would be really short (he’d cut them really often because he doesn’t like the feeling of dirt under his nails), which means he couldn’t bite his nails anymore, causing him to pick up a new anxious habit of biting the inside of his bottom lip ): overall, though, todd would like his job, and even find pleasure in being surrounded by little flowers all day. also if/when neil ever got the chance, he’d absolutely tag along to see his sweaty boyfriend in action (come on, neil would go absolutely nuts for todd in a cutoff shirt, 5″ inseam shorts, and converse mowing a lawn looking all manly and tough). 

charlie: obviously, charlie wouldn’t need to work because of his financial situation, but his mom would 110% make him get a job just so he wouldn’t be around the house causing trouble/bothering his siblings for fun (”i’m hosting a lot of book club meetings for the country club this summer, i can’t have you putting spiders in the ladies’ hats again, charles”). similar to neil, mr. charlie dalton would work his summers at an ice cream/custard stand. he’d have to wear a white, short sleeve button up, a red and white striped apron, and one of those white, rectangular hats (his least favorite part HAHA, stating, “my hair is one of my best features and this just takes it all away. it’s unfair.”). the poets would visit often, both for ice cream, but primarily to give him a hard time about his uniform (”i’ll give you twenty bucks to wear this on our first day of classes” meeks would tease, completely gobsmacked when charlie showed up to their first chemistry class in his uniform, earning lots of demerits, but also twenty dollars). charlie would hate it at first, but obviously he’d adjust, being the extroverted/personable person, not taking himself too seriously and being one of the best ice cream slingers anyone had ever seen. he’d give the cute girls (and boys) extra scoops of ice cream for free, winking as he handed them their orders. like neil’s boss, charlie’s boss was even more thankful for charlie’s presence because they’d likely be raking in at least triple the income they would in a summer without him. he’d become a sundae expert, spending many dead poets meeting making them for his friends while they read poems and stories. that being said, he’d come to hate eating ice cream, publishing an article in welton’s honor demanding that they remove ice cream from their dessert menu (yes, almost exactly like the “girls at welton” prank, but he’d make the call collect this time. mr. nolan would be fed up to the point where he wouldn’t even punish charlie physically, just suspend him from rowing [which charlie wouldn’t mind at all HAHA]).

meeks & pitts: after their hi-fi success and the fact that they are seemingly inseparable, they both sought out jobs at the local radio station where they were hired as interns/assistants, running errands and picking up coffee or lunch for the station. but sometimes, when they worked pretty late, the night shift dj would let them pick the records and show them how everything worked (: after nights like that, meeks and pitts would go to one of their houses and add modifications to their hi-fi radio, staying up all night modifying and researching (by the end of the summer, they had made another hi-fi (portable) and their og hi-fi would have been morphed into a huge nationally reaching radio that they keep in the cave (since it would be disallowed in their room at welton). another job that the two of them would have would be answering calls for the station about song requests. with this knowledge, charlie and the other poets would hang out at someone’s house, calling and requesting the same songs over and over and over again. their biggest task for the summer would be organizing the shelves with all the records into alphabetical order (”duh, we should go by first name, meeks. which other way would it be” pitts would argue, only to find out that after they had spent about three weeks alphabetizing by first name, they were supposed to go by last name. “now who’s the idiot?” meeks would jeer, beginning to pull the records off the shelves). they’d also learn a lot about music from their night shift coworker, which would help in their quest to woo some ladies the following school year.

cameron: cameron liked spending his summers doing research projects for fun and just reading a whole lot, so you can imagine his displeasure at when his parents asked him to get a job (presumably to help with paying for his schooling). while upset about it, he wouldn’t complain, and took it on the chin, understanding the reasoning. he’d apply to a couple places, but ultimately end up as a grocery store cashier/stock boy. much like charlie, he’d have the same kind of uniform, but with a green apron instead. he’d spend most of his shift ringing people up at the register, being friendly and personable (something no one ever really realized about him !!). the poets’ moms would always see him and choose his register on purpose, using it as a chance to catch up or tell him to tell his parents that “the overstreets say hello!” or “mrs. anderson says hi!” pitts, meeks, and charlie would utilize cameron’s position at the supermarket to buy nudie magazines unembarrassed/slightly illegally HAHA (”come on, cameron! it’s not like you won’t be included in seeing them next year, too. we bring them to the meetings, you know that!” charlie would say, leaving cameron at a loss, reluctantly scanning the magazines and bagging them as pitts and meeks sniggered). charlie would wave, blow him a kiss, and wink as they left, “love you, richardddd.” sure enough, the magazines would make an appearance during the following school year and cameron was glad he had decided to let them buy the magazines lol. 

knox: out of all the poets, i feel like our knoxious would be the least inclined to work (yes, even less inclined than charlie). his parents wouldn’t even make him get a job because he simply didn’t need to, but to everyone’s surprise, he would volunteer at the animal shelter. the poets would later find out that it was a great way to meet girls (which is why he did it lmfao so they endlessly goaded him about it). charlie would visit often, and even took a rescue puppy home, much to charlie’s younger sister’s delight. charlie even wanted to start volunteering at the shelter to also meet girls, but he was too busy at the ice cream stand (plus, he had really grown to like it there so he didn’t want to leave). another effect of volunteering made knox super interested in zoology and animals, which brought out a newer, more nurturing/caring side to him, and who knows, maybe he’d go vegetarian somehow. he’d want to pursue a career in animal science or becoming a veterinarian, but mr. overstreet was hellbent on knox taking over the firm, so it seemed like a pipe dream. knox would continue to volunteer at the animal shelter, well into his career as a lawyer, and would even go to veterinary school in his 30s (when he was a nationally famous, established lawyer) to get certification to work with animals in a broader way (: 

hope you guys liked these. it was pretty fun to write, and i'd pay such good money to see neil, charlie, and cameron in their uniforms (and todd, but that’s neither here nor there). happy thursday !! let me know what you guys think of these <3(:

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

[spencers-renaissance]

Honeysuckle

Summary: The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

Tags: whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid 

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Spencer had initially been wary of Penelope’s invitation to picnic in Meridian Hill Park one beautiful summer afternoon — he burned way too easily and didn’t like exposing himself to insects more than absolutely necessary — but as soon as she’d mentioned Derek was going, he’d given in. He wasn’t about to turn down an afternoon spent in the sun with his best friends and boyfriend. It was a rare day off for the team: one not even spent hanging by their phone expecting to be called in any minute, so they were all insistent on making the most of it. 

He’s the last one to arrive, spotting the others sat in the shade of an oak tree, already laughing as they get stuck into their first drinks of the afternoon. Despite his initial hesitations, as soon as he feels the sun on his face and sees his friends he’s immediately glad he turned up and he hurries over to join the rest of the team, his own contributions to the picnic in hand. 

“Pretty boy!” Derek shouts, grinning widely as he jumps up from his lazy position on the blanket to wrap Spencer in a hug, before pulling back slightly to kiss him. He can already tell he’s a little tipsy, and although Spencer doesn’t drink he has nothing against everyone else letting their hair down and having fun; God knows they deserve it. 

His relationship with Derek is only a few months old, and he still relishes every moment he gets to spend wrapped up in his arms.

“Hey guys.” His words are muffled slightly by Derek’s shoulder as his boyfriend is reluctant to let him go, but as soon as he’s released, he turns to match everyone’s wide grins. 

“Did you bring the strawberries?” Emily asks, levelling him with a faux-stern look that she can’t maintain for long, melting back into her relaxed smile soon enough.

“Of course.” He takes a seat on the picnic blanket only to be immediately wrapped into a side hug by Penelope. He hugs back before beginning to unpack his bag.

“What about the icing sugar?” she asks, and her stern glare isn’t fake at all: Spencer knows how seriously Penelope takes a) organisation, and b) sweet treats.

“Who do you take me for?” he laughs, retrieving the fruit and sugar from his bag and taking a swig of the cool lemonade he’d packed in his thermos. 

Sometimes he wishes he could go back in time and show lonely, teenage Spencer pictures of days like these. One day, he’ll be twenty six, working at his dream job, and spending his days off in the warmth of the East Coast sun one Sunday afternoon surrounded by his best friends, kissed by his boyfriend at every opportunity. They’ve never asked him to be anything other than exactly who he is, inviting them into their group and doting on him relentlessly, loving him just as much as he loves them. 

It’s a luxury you only appreciate when you’ve known the loneliness of summer: when the hum of the AC is the only sound in your stuffy, humid dorm room, and you’re researching the effects of methane on winter weather patterns as you long for cold weather again, because then at least then you don’t have to listen to the excited shouts of friends outside anymore, then it’s acceptable to isolate yourself inside with only yourself and books for company.

He shakes himself out of his miserable recollections and reminds himself to be in the present. Emily has her head in Penelope’s lap as they discuss which incarnation of Doctor Who is the best while JJ and Derek discuss the new jogging park opening up across the border in Virginia. He knows which conversation is more suited to his interests and immediately goes up to bat for the Seventh Doctor, which manages to engage him in a spirited debate with both women. 

Soon, though, they find themselves all discussing their workplace embarrassments and recalling the funniest moments from over the last few years, and Spencer loses himself in the heat of the afternoon and the warmth of his friendships. He’s gorged himself on all the strawberries and sandwiches he could stomach, and as the afternoon stretches longer and evening approaches he lies down on the blanket and rests his head in Derek’s lap, mirroring Penelope and Emily. His eyes flutter closed as his full belly and heat of the sun tire him out, and Derek’s fingers thread themselves through Spencer’s long hair, a light and welcome touch. 

The haze of his friends still chatting around him as he dozes comfortably is interrupted, however, when he feels a sharp pinch on his wrist and seconds later, he’s fighting for breath. He launches upright, wheezing as he claws at his chest, trying desperately to fill his lungs with enough air. 

“Spencer? Oh my God, Spencer, what’s wrong?” Penelope cries, immediately by his side as she looks him over frantically, not knowing what’s happening. 

“Derek, call an ambulance,” JJ directs, taking charge as she rushes to Spencer’s side as well. “He’s in anaphylactic shock. Spencer, listen to me, do you have your epi-pen with you?”

Her words manage to get through the panicked haze and light-headedness as he can’t get enough oxygen. He can feel his face swelling and his heart racing, but he’s still coherent enough to point to his bag. 

“He didn’t eat anything, though,” Emily says, panicked and confused as she watches her friend have a medical crisis while she’s powerless to help. 

“He’s allergic to bees,” JJ says, keeping calm as she prepares the epi-pen and administers it to Spencer’s thigh. “One must have stung him for some reason.”

“There!” Penelope points to the bee sting on Spencer’s wrist and JJ lunges for her bag, rummaging until she finds her credit card which she uses to carefully slide under the stinger and remove it, preventing any more venom from flowing into Spencer’s system.

It’s clear after a few minutes that the epi-pen hasn’t worked: Spencer still feels like he can’t catch his breath and the world is fading slowly as his heart beats out of control and his organs can’t get enough oxygen. 

He feels himself be moved gently by various hands as JJ directs the others until he’s leaning up as comfortably as possible against Derek’s chest as Penelope elevates his legs to keep blood flowing to his vital organs. 

“It’s okay, Spencer,” JJ says loudly, right in front of his face. It’s blurry and out of focus and he can feel himself losing consciousness fast. “The ambulance is on its way.” 

It’s the last thing he hears before he collapses completely as he passes out. 

⭐️

It’s dark outside when Spencer finally wakes up. His bed is warm and comfortable and he lets himself listen to the somewhat comfortable steady beeps of the heart monitor and movement of staff and patients around the ward before finally opening his eyes to scan his room. 

Derek’s sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair right next to his bed, sketching what Spencer can only guess are plans for the property he’s just taken on, an empty jello cup balancing on the armrest of his chair. 

“Sandwiches and strawberries not fill you up?” he asks, voice croaky as he cracks an eye open. He can’t help but smile, too. He has the best boyfriend and the best friends anyone could ever hope for.

Derek’s head snaps up as he hears Spencer’s voice, setting his notebook and jello aside to grab for Spencer’s hand. “You are something else,” he chuckles. “Your first thought when coming round from a medical disaster is an observation of my eating patterns.” He shakes his head fondly. “ But you know I can’t pass up a tub of jello.”

“That’s true. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you say no when it’s offered.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty boy.” 

They lapse into short silence, accompanied only by the quiet beeps of the machines. “Sorry I scared you,” he whispers eventually, feeling guilt wrap itself around his stomach. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” Derek looks sincere as he holds Spencer’s hand tighter, careful of the IV in his wrist. “The doctors… they said it was a severe attack, which is probably why the first epi-pen didn’t work. They’re monitoring you overnight to make sure there was no damage to your kidneys, I think. I’ll go find a doctor to tell them you’re awake.”

He moves to get out of his seat, but Spencer pulls him back down, as well as he can when he’s still feeling weak. “No, just… don’t leave,” he asks, his voice coming out a little too pleading for his liking. “Stay.”

The idea of being alone right now twists his stomach; the idea of being without Derek so desperately scary. 

“Okay, okay, baby,” Derek relents, sitting back down and running a soothing hand through his tangled hair, Spencer’s eyes fluttering closed at the contact. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to.” Instead, he presses the button for the nurse. 

“Where are the others?” Spencer dares to ask after a few seconds of quiet. 

“The nurses weren’t too happy with four people in here,” Derek chuckles. “I’ve been updating them by text; I’ll tell them you’re awake in a minute. JJ saved your life, you know. None of us had any clue what was happening but she was the only one who kept calm and the only one who got us through those awful minutes waiting for the ambulance to show up.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I told her I was allergic to bee stings years ago. It was just an off-hand comment, it never feels like that big a deal… this is only the third time this has ever happened. I guess I don’t feel the need to bring it up.”

“Well that off-hand comment saved your life, pretty boy.” Derek squeezes his eyes closed for a second, and when he opens them the emotion written on his face is heart-wrenching. “God, I can’t believe I could’ve lost you. There were a good few minutes there when I didn’t think you were gonna make it and after… Tobias… I was just so scared.”

Spencer’s stomach clenches at that, imagining the roles reversed is terrifying just as a hypothetical. He can’t even begin to imagine how Derek felt. He reaches a hand out to touch Derek’s face gently, squeezing his hand with the other. “But you didn’t lose me,” he murmurs. “I’m here, I’m  okay.” 

“Yeah.” His voice is barely a whisper as his eyes close again. “Is it bad that I kind of want bees to go extinct now?” he asks with a wet chuckle a few moments later.

“Derek!” Spencer laughs weakly, acting scandalised. “Bees are fundamental to the global ecosystem. Civilisation would effectively collapse if bees went extinct, it’s definitely not worth eradicating bees for the sake of me avoiding the rarity of anaphylactic shock, not according to the laws of proportionality. It’s actually frightening how fast the bee population is depleting though… did you know that there are only about 2.5 million honey-producing hives left in the US? That’s down from 4.5 million in 1980 and the loss has largely been attributed to colony collapse disorder—”

“Ah, Doctor Reid, you’re awake.” A smiling nurse bustles through the door and comes to check his vitals, fiddling with one of his IVs before taking a step back. “How’s your breathing? Is the nasal cannula okay or would you prefer a full mask?”

“The cannula’s good,” he says, smiling politely. Really, he just wants to get back to telling Derek all the bee facts he can recall. He has some really good ones itching to be let out. “I’m breathing fine, just feel a little weak still.”

“Good. Your vitals all look stable, so a doctor will be round in the morning to talk you through your treatment and medication. Is that okay?” 

“That’s fine, thank you,” Spencer nods, and she gives them one last smile before leaving the room and sliding the door shut quietly behind her.

“I should bring her back in,” Derek chuckles as the nurse leaves the room. “She missed out on your bee lecture. Fascinating stuff.”

“Shut up,” Spencer huffs, sinking back against the pillows. “You don’t deserve to hear my bee facts.”

“No,” Derek protests, grinning widely. “I’m joking, baby, carry on. You were telling me about colony collapse disorder.”

Spencer knows that, of course — he does have an eidetic memory after all — but it makes him smile that Derek remembers exactly where he was in his spiel. Maybe Penelope’s onto something when she says that Derek is “whipped” for him. (It had taken at least fifteen minutes for Spencer to fully understand what she meant by that, mostly because he kept asking about the etymology, history, and statistical usage of the word and she kept rolling her eyes, which he would then insist was not an answer.)

“Colony collapse disorder is depressing,” Spencer sighs, feeling quite tired all of a sudden. “I don’t feel like explaining it.”

“It doesn’t sound great.” Derek goes back to threading his fingers through Spencer’s hair. “Why don’t you tell me your favourite three bee facts, and then you can go back to sleep”

Spencer hums, giving it a bit of thought before replying. “Scientists trained bees to score goals in bee soccer in return for a sugary treat, which is especially interesting because they have brains the size of a poppy seed. They communicate with one another by wiggling their butts. It’s like their own language, they tell their nestmates where to go to get the best food. Bees also live in loads of different places, not just in the countryside. My favourite place they live is in marshes and wetlands, because I love insects that live in watery areas.”

“I’d pay to watch bees play soccer,” Derek laughs quietly. “You’re so smart, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Spencer sighs happily. “Love you,” he murmurs, eyes closing against the exhaustion. 

“I love you more.”

Spencer isn’t awake long enough to argue with him.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @takeyourleap-of-faith 

[robininthelabyrinth]

i keep thinking about all the yiling patriarch!jiang cheng aus out there and it got me curious: what wild canon divergences would have to happen for it to be jiang yanli who becomes the yiling matriarch? (she doesn’t use a flute, she just asks politely probably) and what would be the eventual fallout of that?

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, of course.

Jiang Yanli’s big didi was brilliant and talented beyond measure, as reckless and impertinent in his thoughts as he was in every other way, just as her little didi was earnest and soft-hearted and dutiful, the outlines of the serious man he’d become when he grew up just barely visible underneath the baby fat that still lingered in his cheeks.

It was Wei Wuxian’s idea, but it was Jiang Cheng that made Jiang Yanli decide to use it.

Both of her brothers got invitations to sit in on important sect meetings, as senior disciple and presumptive heir; Wei Wuxian apparently made good contributions during the meetings and forgot about them immediately afterwards, while Jiang Cheng listened intently and then worried for days.

“The Wen sect is becoming more and more of a threat,” Jiang Cheng told her late at night when she was making him something to settle his upset stomach – he was like a little bird, with anxiety enough to put him off his seed. “Mother and Father are fighting over how much they need to react, since technically they haven’t come into Yunmeng…”

“Technically?”

“We never signed agreements with those clans, but we’ve been all but responsible for them anyway.” He put his head down on the table, sighing. “What happens if they come here?”

“A-Xian says they won’t dare.”

“He’s just repeating what Father says. I don’t know. Maybe they don’t dare now, but – what if they do, one day?”

Jiang Yanli took after her father in most aspects, but she was still her mother’s daughter: while she comforted Jiang Cheng and told him not to worry, filled him up with warm soup and hugged him until he smiled again, the thought lingered. What if, indeed. Her brothers would need to fight, of course. Her two babies raising up swords against human beings instead of evil creatures; her mother would use Zidian, of course, and her father had his sword, and she –

Jiang Yanli was not un-self-aware. She was an indifferent cultivator, with below-average skills at the sword – good enough to pass basic muster, but not much more than that. Her talismans were about the same, decent but not inspiring, and she could only produce an average number before she exhausted her spiritual energy. She had a golden core, but it was weak, just like she was weak.

She wouldn’t be able to defend her home. To defend her brothers.

And there was nothing she could do about it –

That was when she remembered Wei Wuxian’s silly little idea, the one that had gotten him in so much trouble at the Cloud Recesses, that he’d told her all about in great detail when he’d returned home: to use resentful energy the way they used spiritual energy.

(“– and then poor Nie Huaisang said it would be helpful to someone like him, who formed his core later; he doesn’t have much spiritual energy, so he gets tired easily, but if it’s not his energy he’s using, he wouldn’t be held back by the limits of his own cultivation –”)

Jiang Yanli pursed her lips in thought.

Wei Wuxian had only sketched out the basic idea, without going forward to think of ways to implement the idea – after all, it was all well and good to say you could find a way to channel tremendous external energy into something usable, but another thing entirely to actually do it. It would be as tricky as catching lightning from the sky and using it as a whip.

In other words, it was time to ask her mother for help.

To say that Yu Ziyuan disapproved would be an understatement, but Jiang Yanli knew her mother well: she waited until the initial rant was completed and then pointed out, quietly, that she didn’t have any other means with which to defend herself – and that would leave her at the non-existent mercy of the Wen sect.

Her mother froze. “…I could give you Zidian,” she finally said, but from the expression on her face, even she knew that that wouldn’t work: Zidian required both a strong golden core and a certain knack, a talent that Jiang Cheng had and Jiang Yanli lacked; there had never been any question between the two of them as to who would inherit Zidian. “Or we could buy more talismans –”

“And when the talismans we buy run out? I can’t replenish them myself. But if we try my way, I won’t have to rely on A-Xian or A-Cheng – a-niang, just think about how I’d feel if they got hurt trying to save me! And all because I don’t have a knack for cultivating!”

Her mother sighed. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll help you figure out how it could work in practice, rather than in theory. But it’s only for emergencies, you understand? What you’re suggesting comes very close to demonic cultivation – if you use human-generated resentful energy, it is demonic cultivation – and using that too much damages the body, affects the temperament.”

“Just for emergencies,” Jiang Yanli promised.

“And don’t tell A-Cheng or Wei Wuxian about it,” her mother insisted. “Can you imagine the trouble those two would get into with something like this?”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth to try to keep from giggling. “A-Xian would probably restyle himself to match the aesthetic – wearing Demon Cultivating Robes, under Demon Cultivating Hair, that he left in a pile on the Demon Cultivating Bed –”

“From which he rested on the Pillow of Evil, no doubt,” her mother agreed, looking amused despite herself. “And your brother would end up trying to keep a small legion of fierce corpses as pets because he felt too bad about sending them back into the earth after having used them.”

“He’d give them names,” Jiang Yanli said, giggling harder. “Princess, or Buttercup –”

“And he’d hide them very badly in a closet or something, too. Do you remember the nest of juvenile fisher hawks that he hid in the armory? They nearly fell on my head –”

“Of course I remember. You nearly stepped on poor little Cloudpuff.”

“Don’t remind me!”

They had two years to work on it, their own little mother-daughter bonding time – the boys ran away in mock fright at the mere suggestion of girly stuff – and Jiang Yanli felt that she and her mother had never been closer. They could even, for the first time, go on night-hunts together, Jiang Yanli summoning corpses with a crook of her finger and a gentle hum while her mother cut them down with her sword or with Zidian.

It was so much fun that Jiang Yanli almost forgot why they’d started it in the first place.

And then, very suddenly, it all became real.

Jiang Yanli was at Meishan, visiting her grandmother, when the Wen sect attacked, but word spread quickly – the Lotus Pier ravaged, the sect leader and his wife both dead, their children missing…

“We have to hide you at once,” her grandmother said after they’d passed through the first flush of grief, her face still wet with tears. “They’ll be coming here next –”

“You will tell them that I am not here,” Jiang Yanli said, and stood up, wiping her own eyes. “Because I won’t be. I’m going back to the Lotus Pier.”

“A-Li! If you do that, they’ll catch you – have you heard what the Wen sect does to female cultivators –”

“Mother and Father are dead at their hands,” Jiang Yanli said. “They must be avenged.”

“Your brother will do that! That boy, Wei Wuxian, he will –”

“I will not let them bear that burden alone,” Jiang Yanli said. “Keep everyone here safe for me, okay?”

She made it back just in time to see Jiang Cheng, her little A-Cheng, the baby she held in her tiny arms less than a shichen after he’d been born, the one she clothed and fed and cared for all these years, being dragged into the main hall by Wen sect cultivators, his face pale with fear.

Wen Chao was sitting in her father’s chair, playing with the sect’s discipline whip. “I’ve always wondered if this thing was as bad as they say. Let’s try it out on him,” he ordered, grinning lazily. “And then Wen Zhuliu can melt his golden core, and we can try it again – to see if there’s any difference in using it on a cultivator and on a regular person.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t plead for mercy, not even as they forced him down to kneel, even as his shoulders shook under their hands – Jiang Yanli turned her face away, nodded at the young Wen cultivator that had snuck her in this far (Wen Ning, she thought his name was), and raised her hands to do what she had to do.

The Wen sect had been lazy in the immediate aftermath of their victory: they hadn’t bothered to either bury or burn the corpses of her Jiang sect cultivators, her shidi and shimei, her martial aunts and uncles; they’d only tossed them outside into a giant pit to be dealt with later.

They were going to regret that.

“Jiejie!” Jiang Cheng cried out when he saw her rushing over to his side: he was bleeding, and badly, from the marks of the whip, but Wen Zhuliu hadn’t had a chance to destroy his core yet, having been distracted by the sight of the Violet Spider risen up from the dead in defiance of all soul-calming rituals.

(Jiang Yanli knew her mother well enough to know that she would forgive the use of her corpse if it resulted in her ripping out Wen Zhuliu’s core with her bare hands, using the elongated nails of a fierce corpse, a fearsome red-clad ghost dressed in purple. They would put her to rest later in the same coffin as her husband.)

“It’s okay, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli said, petting his hair. “It’s okay – jiejie’s here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Wen Ning ended up being the little brother of Wen Qing, who he somehow managed to summon – the famous doctor lived up to her reputation and didn’t so much as blink at being escorted into the main room by fierce corpses in order to care for Jiang Cheng’s wounds. Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that she’d seen her deliberately stepping on Wen Chao’s corpse on her way in, too, so she wasn’t worried.

“No one can know that I was involved,” Wen Qing said, finishing up stitching together Jiang Cheng’s chest and resetting his collarbone. He was out cold, and there were medicines that would work as painkillers for when he woke up. “I have to keep my family safe, too.”

“You were never here, this never happened,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “If you ever decide that the Wen sect is a losing proposition, come to me and I’ll remember this favor.”

Wen Qing eyed some of the fierce corpses standing as guards. “I’ll remember that.”

There was some yelling outside, a familiar voice. Jiang Yanli tilted her head to the side and smiled. “That’ll be A-Xian. He can help sneak you out of our borders without anyone the wiser – no one knows the ins and out of the Lotus Pier better than he does.”

She went out and found Wen Ning trying to talk down a wild-eyed Wei Wuxian, who apparently was on familiar terms with him. Not really a surprise: Wei Wuxian was friendly with everybody.

“A-Xian!” she called.

“Shijie?! What are you doing here? Are you okay – are you safe – did you see Jiang Cheng –”

“It’s okay,” she said. “All the bad Wens are dead; Wen Ning and his sister – and their subordinates – are helping us. A-Cheng is injured, but he’ll heal.”

Wei Wuxian sat down abruptly, all the tension in his body replaced by a mixture of relief and the remnants of his despair. “I only went away for a moment to get some food,” he said, and put his head in his hands. “I only looked away for a moment…”

Jiang Yanli sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. “You did your best, A-Xian. That’s all that can be asked of you.”

“But – Madame Yu said –”

Jiang Yanli could guess what her mother had probably said.

“Of course you need to take care of A-Cheng,” she said, and let him bury his head in her shoulder. “He’s your didi, isn’t he? Just like he’s mine, and you’re mine, too; it’s our responsibility as older siblings to take care of the younger ones. He’s going to need our help a lot more now that he has to be sect leader.”

Wei Wuxian sniffled. “I told him I’d support him when he became sect leader – that we’d be the twin heroes of Yunmeng, just like the twin jades of the Lan sect. I just didn’t think…not so soon! And now there’s barely any Jiang sect left!”

“My little heroes,” Jiang Yanli said, and kissed his forehead. “It’ll be okay. The Wen sect may have attacked the Lotus Pier, but there are plenty of Jiang sect cultivators who weren’t here – we have them, and we can recruit more.”

He nodded, then paused. “Uh, shijie – a question.”

“Yes?”

“The fierce corpses everywhere…”

“We’ll need to lay them to rest after we’re done,” Jiang Yanli said firmly. Her mother had insisted on that: demonic cultivation encouraged bad tendencies, sloppiness, and the only way to deal with that degradation of spirit was with discipline and righteousness. If possible, she should prefer non-human spirits; human corpses could be used, but only to the degree necessary, and then they had to be laid to rest with honor, as they deserved – furthermore, if at all possible, they should only be summoned from those that would have willingly given up their bodies to help the endeavor in question, rather than using tormenting their spirits by using them against their friends and family.

Somehow, Jiang Yanli didn’t think there would be a problem finding victims of the Wen sect to help.

“But how did you do it?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. “They listen to you –”

“I’m manipulating their resentful energy,” she explained. “Based on the idea you initially had at the Cloud Recesses – what? Don’t look at me like that, didi; I did tell you I thought it was a good idea.”

“But demonic cultivation is bad for you! It affects the temperament, the body, the heart…”

“Mother used to say that my temperament could probably stand to be a bit worse,” Jiang Yanli said, feeling her eyes go hot as tears threatened. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “Don’t worry, didi. We came up with a bunch of rules to try to make it easier and less harmful to use…I’m not a sword cultivator like you and A-Cheng; it’s not my strength. But I can do this, and I won’t be helpless against the Wen sect.”

Wei Wuxian hugged her, clearly terrified by the thought. “Never mind what I said. It’s a good idea.”

Jiang Yanli smiled. “I know. You’ll help me come up with more ways to use it, right? You and A-Cheng – you always did come up with the craziest things when you were together, even more than you alone.”

“Of course!” There was the Wei Wuxian she knew and loved: forgetting pain – or at least, putting it aside – as soon as he had something concrete to work on. “How do you do it? Music? I’d been thinking of using musical manipulation –”

“Sometimes I hum? Mostly it’s just willpower – sometimes gestures, like saluting. It works better if the resentful spirits feel appreciated.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at her. “Appreciated?”

“Everyone likes to feel appreciated, A-Xian.”

“I suppose so,” he said, then shook his head. “Whatever you say is right, shijie.”

“Of course she’s right,” Jiang Cheng croaked from inside the room – he’d stumbled over to the door, and both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli immediately rushed over to help him back to his bed. “Jiejie’s always right…jiejie, what do we do next?”

“Don’t look at me!” she objected. “You’re sect leader; you decide. I’m just here to support you.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We have to fight back against the Wen sect,” he said. His voice was raspy with pain and the remnants of screaming: Wei Wuxian lifted a cup of tea to his lips at once. “The way the Nie sect is…the Lan sect, too; I think Father mentioned that Lan Wangji was doing a lot of travelling. Wei Wuxian, you got close to him when you were at the Xuanwu cave. Can you go find him? Tell him we need his help, and the help of any other sects he can help us recruit.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “You sure you don’t need me here..?”

“There won’t be a ‘here’ if we don’t get people together, and fast – we killed one of Wen Ruohan’s sons. As soon as I’m better, I’m going to go find people for the Jiang sect, whether cultivators who weren’t here or new ones. And shijie…”

“What can I do?”

Jiang Cheng lifted his finger to point at the corpses, which he hadn’t even questioned. “We need more of those. A lot more of those. An army of them.”

Jiang Yanli frowned. “Where am I supposed to find an army worth of dead people? I was planning on picking up resentful souls of the Wen sect’s victims as we went, but that’ll be incremental, not an army…”

“Actually,” Wei Wuxian said. “I have an idea. Have you ever heard of the Burial Mounds in Yiling…?”

[kitkatixx]

kirukiyo headcanons (long ish)

If you haven’t noticed-- these two are my otp, and v3 did them both dirty... both in terms of plot and their few interactions (hi, utdp, i’m surprised they didn’t have an event with direct interaction)

I haven’t done these formally but figured I’d drop a few of my headcanons as of now, since the ideas I have for these two are fluid, but the base nature of their relationship remains about the same. You’ll see below the cut, they’re fairly in depth and give some flavor to the characters (especially Kirumi) 

general summary 

Subtle, subtle, subtle. 

These two are experts at keeping their relationship under the table, and it takes the rest of the class--perceptive ones included-- quite a bit of time to figure out they’ve been together, even though many a student (Kokichi, Miu, Rantaro, Kaede) have made jokes about their likeness to a married couple. 

While they are more than capable of adapting to the scenario, both of them are private individuals at heart, in spite how their talents require them to be around people nearly at all times. So for Kirumi especially, she prefers someone mature who can respect her desire to keep the limelight out of her personal life. After all, she prefers to keep her home and (incredibly taxing, chaotic) work life separate... 

That being said, it is no secret to Class 79 (what I’ve dubbed the v3 cast in my HPA AU) and the upperclassmen (SDR2, DR3, THH) that the Ultimate Maid is a stubborn workaholic.

Thus, it takes a specific type of person to ‘get through’ to her-- specifically requesting her presence at refreshments, politely stopping her in the hallway for a conversation, all as cleverly disguised ‘breaks’ without infringing upon her time and duties. Even if it’s only momentary, small steps, persistence, and patience are key with her, as there is a fine line between obligation and devotion to one’s craft. 

Korekiyo happens to be able to see past the professional ‘selflessly devoted’ front that Kirumi maintains nearly at all times, having had the opportunity to observe numerous types of people in his time as an anthropologist, and given what was seen in canon, it’s fairly evident that he was intrigued, speaking highly of her post trial (he even has a FTE in her lab!) 

Initially, her insistence on wholeheartedly embodying the values of a proper maid piqued his attention, leading to him to take an interest in getting to know her more-- what makes Miss Tojo who she is, exactly? What motivates her to behave in such a way? And what of the human side of the Ultimate Maid? Such were the questions he wished to answer, and as any good researcher would do, it was necessary to approach this in a straightforward, concise manner.

Because of this unorthodox approach to getting to know her (indirectly) for a scholarly reason, Kirumi had no reason to decline his invitations to converse or shoo him away from observing her everyday duties as she would have done under normal circumstances. This in particular gave Korekiyo an advantage over many of his other peers, who would have had difficulty a) approaching her b) maintaining a sizeable conversation with her before moving onto her next task. 

Eventually, the two would find they share similar interests (Victorian customs, tea preparation, etc), and get along well with each other; the meetings that began as strictly for research evolve into moments where two friends are talking. 

Down the line, someone catches feels. 

Now as for who that could be... let’s move to the next section to answer that.

a few typical who does/is relationship headcanons:

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Korekiyo does. While Kirumi eventually does develop feelings for him first, she won’t act on them out of concern that the quality of her work will be compromised, and stays quiet. Korekiyo, however, takes a little longer after mulling over whether his emotions can be chalked up to his general adoration for all of humanity or genuine feelings for her. He does pick up on small changes in her behavior and routine-- serving his preferred meals and tea at just the right temperature, being especially open to assisting him even when she’s terribly busy, and so on, which motivate him to make the first move. Very small, but incredibly thoughtful of her. He’s always liked the details. 

The anthropologist is quite capable of being romantic if he so desires, but decides that with her in particular, it would be best to be polite and to the point. Of course, this is Korekiyo we are talking about, so he’ll still put his own twist on it-- so most likely discreetly slipping her a letter with a proper wax stamp on it expressing his feelings and a carnation, which in Japanese flower language is associated with fascination and distinction. 

The letter’s contents include notes of the uniquely human aspects of her he finds especially beautiful, and are highly specific: the faint curve of her mouth that appears for a split-second (when she thinks no one is looking) after someone receives retribution for their antics, her deft, graceful movements as she slices into vegetables and pours tea, the glint in her eye that appears after a particularly challenging request is given... the list could go on and on, he writes, but it would be far too long to be appropriate for this letter, yet Kirumi Tojo’s identity is so much more than only the Ultimate Maid. 

Lastly, it finishes with an attached sketch depicting one of the moments ‘when she is the most beautiful,’ showing her in her element... broom in hand, small frown on face, and scolding someone (read: Kokichi) After all, while many miss it, Korekiyo has picked up on the angry micro expressions that flit across her face after something particularly irritating has just occurred, and he loves them-- they make her humanity shine through. 

Subsequently, it would prompt her to meet somewhere secluded in the evening if she reciprocates-- her missing presence would be more than enough for him to take the hint. Not that she intended on doing so.

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

You’d think it would be Kirumi, but no, Korekiyo is, beneath his unusual charm and charisma, by a margin. After the passing of his sister, it left him hesitant to get close to people at a personal level, which contributes to how he ended up choosing anthropology-- not only to travel and experience the world when she could not, but because it allows for one to be ‘close’ to humans in a removed manner. So while he can easily wax poetry about nearly anything about humans, cultures, or a person, he does this in a very ‘scientific manner’ at times, preferring to view things as an observer rather than a participator. Of course, this aspect of him was integrated into his identity long before HPA, but it is this distanced nature that contributed to his initial indecisiveness about whether his feelings are organic, and the occasional concern about how much emotional intimacy he is obligated to show in a relationship. Luckily, Kirumi isn’t the type to absolutely need direct communication in a relationship, and is more subtle in demeanor as well.

Having been in the service industry for years and hiding her own emotions (from herself as well), Kirumi is proficient at recognizing others’ needs, and picks up on these issues seamlessly. She isn’t exactly the best at opening up either (this is an area of improvement for both of them), but still makes attempts to directly talk to him about this. Generally, their form of communication is largely nonverbal, being highly in tune with each other-- to this couple, actions speak louder than words, but issues like these are best addressed face-to-face, with words, before they fester. 

3. Who is the most romantic?

The anthropologist takes the cake here by societal standards-- his love language is giving gifts and words of affirmation, whereas Kirumi prefers acts of service (no surprise there!) but both share quality time as a commonality, and are very attentive towards each other. Regardless of the gift, Korekiyo is always sure to pick something thoughtful and practical, the way she likes things-- though now and then there’s something more material with emotional value in the mix, which she secretly likes. Kirumi is not used to people being so direct in this department with her, so while she’ll politely cite her preference for gifts as something useful, the silk gloves and other paraphernalia he gets her are a nice way to validate she has an identity outside of being a maid.

Not to mention that he has a way with words, and is incredibly proficient at finding 50 unique ways to compliment her in public, much to her chagrin (and hidden embarrassment,) but he takes pride in, citing that she should be more proud of her accomplishments. Nevertheless, Korekiyo still finds her indirect way of showing affection endearing, especially when she attempts to politely deflect compliments as ‘doing what any maid worth their salt would have done.’ 

Some things never change... even though he and the other members of Class 79 have slowly gotten her to be more open about accepting assistance from others (she’s overworked herself and passed out once!) 

4. Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Again, while both of them are capable of (and prefer) being lowkey in public, it’s free real estate in private, so once again, this goes to Korekiyo. His official love language isn’t physical touch, but he embodies all five of them quite well, this one very much included. 

Kirumi, on the other hand, doesn’t like PDA out of professionalism, which makes her a bit hesitant, even in the privacy of his or her room to be comfortable with it. This isn’t to say she isn’t curious or won’t even consider the possibility, but it takes her a considerable amount of time to warm up to it. Initially, the most you’ll see from them in public is subtle touches on each other’s hand-- little playful taps here and there-- which then morph into holding hands when no one’s around to see it. In private, they’re more willing to be physically close (think head in lap while reading), and Kirumi’s brushed his hair on more than one occasion. It should be noted that one of the most intimate moments the two have had was holding hands in private without any sort of fabric acting as a barrier. 

However, Korekiyo does have a cheekier side that slips out (more slyly playful to incite something interesting/fluster her) and is known to slip an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. If you squint, you might catch a faint flush on the usually unflappable Kirumi. Bonus points if this is during the evening, and a breeze blows by. Bonus bonus if this is in public, during broad daylight. 

The ‘class dad’ has to assert his dominance every now and then over the unruly children, no? 

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Love comes in a lot of different forms and of course, at each person’s pace. Both of them circle around this topic and have essentially said it nonverbally before, but the first to vocalize it is most likely still Korekiyo. It’s not in Kirumi’s nature to be direct about her emotions (but for duties and professional matters, absolutely), so it’s up to him to say he loves her first. 

It’s most likely uttered in private, accompanied with a small kiss, and very quietly-- so quiet you can barely catch it, but that doesn’t matter, because only the one who needs to hear it the most will. 

conclusion

Three words best describe this relationship: mature, meaningful, and synchronized.

Both of these individuals are aloof and formal on the surface level, but if one takes the time to truly get to know them, there’s quite the intense fire burning underneath in the form of being utterly devoted to each other every step of the way. Of course, this is all done in a very reserved manner, and if they don’t want you to know about it, you won’t. 

Well, if you got here, thank you for reading all of this. I’ve liked this ship for a while, and I remember being nervous to create content-- I’m sure know how volatile fandom life can be, no? Hope you enjoyed my take and spins on their relationship, and I might post more later. 

Feel free to request or drop something in the askbox for these two.