#holds choice of robots tenderly in my arms

[pixlime]

I love you fake haunted ps1 games, I love you purposefully and deliberately shitty graphics, i love you weird indie games made by a single person, i love you shoegaze fake deep indie horror games, i love you big blocky environments and pixelated textures and weird glitchy audio that sounds like it was recorded in a closet, i love you entire games made out of mods of other games, I love you weird uquiz choose your own adventures, i love you games made out of the tools that you were given simply for the love of creating

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 11

CLICK HERE IF YOU ARE A FIRST TIME READER

TW for this chapter: more mild smut. more memes. more hijinks and shenanigans. coffee make the brain go skrrrt. bruce fluff & thor being a good bro™. some1 is catching ✨feelings✨. Previous chapters in the link above the cover pic.

Beta reader is @miscmarvelwritings so don't be shy, give her a read. She's the PB to my jelly.

"I don't know about you..." Taylor Swift softly sang from the speakers.

"Bitch, I hope the fuck you do!" I shouted, tumbling into the kitchen with the grace of a giraffe on acid. The smell of coffee and fresh omelettes was mouthwatering. 

"You look… Good," Peter stared at me, his coffee mug frozen halfway to his mouth. The tone of his voice bore very little understanding of the situation he found himself in.

I didn't sleep that night, instead pursuing a scientific quest right after being finger-fucked by Tony Stark. I blame the suits - he had one partially disassembled not ten feet from the puddle my juices had made on the floor - and well, I never said I had a great attention span. One terrible, inappropriate joke had led us to smirking to each other from both sides of the suit as we brainstormed how to best modify it for impromptu bondage sessions. If Peter could have heard us go at it, he'd never set foot in Tony's lab ever again.

On my mighty quest to quench the thirst for knowledge, I completely neglected basic hygiene, so the me that rolled into the kitchen that morning still had yesterday's outfit consisting of fishnets and Tony's hoodie, possibly stained with cum and pussy juice. As a bonus feature, infamous raccoon eyes had made an appearance, courtesy of me rubbing my face multiple times throughout the night.

"I'm feeling my oats," I declared proudly, sitting down next to Peter, making grabby hands at the coffee machine.

"I'm tempted to ask..." Clint handed me the steaming hot dish full of holy bean juice. "But I think I'd rather not." Pointedly, he moved away from me, just enough to make it known he was wary.

"What just happened?" Stephen Strange blinked owlishly.

Boy was he a sight for sore eyes. The wizard wasn't Tony, of course, but his plain white tee left very little to imagination, pulled tight across his toned chest and lean arms. The grey sweats? Illegal. That's a bonk and a ticket to the horny jail for me.

"You didn't get to sleep? Again?" Peter asked, exasperated.

"Sleep who?" I chirped, feeling way too energetic for someone running on some illegal drugs and a single orgasm. It was easy to shrug off the concerned stares I kept getting from the adults and Pete since my already wacky attention span decided to quit it's job without notice.

"Guys, have you seen… oh, there she is!" Tony scrambled into the kitchen, holding his head. That manic look did nothing for his complexion, but then again, I'd take him even filthy and crippled. "Don't just disappear like that!" He snatched the half-empty coffee cup, downing it's remnants in one go and immediately going for a refill. "We didn't finish programming in the shibari function..." He mumbled, absentmindedly running a hand through his messy, greasy hair.

"I..." Peter was still frozen. "I'm not sure I, uh, follow."

"So, me and Tones had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea ..." I started, leaning back in my chair. "But the execution, as usual, needs more work."

"Yes, I can see you've been having ideas," Pete's sass was ignored by both me and Tony. The man was kind enough to clumsily plop a coffee cup in front of me as he was beelining for the fridge. "What are you trying to install? Shib-what?"

"You don't want to know, Pete, trust me," Clint made big eyes at me from across the room. "I'm scared of you," He added, pointing an accusative finger in my direction.

I gave him my best manic stare, probably overdid it by a wide margin. Barton shrunk back, slinking subtly behind Stephen who cleared his throat.

"So I've heard you had an incident yesterday," The doctor was looking at me with concern and pity. "Do you need to visit the medbay?"

About a dozen unsaid and very inappropriate responses later, I simply shook my head negative. My mouth was not to be trusted whilst I was so distracted. Plus, he was hot. I kind of tended to think with my vagina instead of my brain around hot people.

"Good morning," Wanda entered the room, stopping briefly at my side to give me a hug. "Ugh, finally," She muttered the words, looking first at me, then at Tony. 

I raised my eyebrow in a silent question and she just smiled, reaching for her own coffee cup.

Tony mercilessly towed me back to his lab once I polished off two omelettes and another cup of coffee - what would've been my fourth was snatched out by an amused Stephen, all stern and firm and magical, meaning he simply whooshed it out of existence as I was raising it to my mouth. He didn't appreciate my choice of expletives, either, none too fondly rolling his eyes and beginning a lecture on heart attacks. Whatever, Tony was my knight in shining armour and we left the kitchen quietly plotting our mechanical plots right over the annoying doctor's mumbling. 

There was quite a lot of delicate soldering involved in the gauntlets of the new suit. Having to construct and fix everything on the go proved to be harder than building a robot; even for Tony, the genius engineer himself. We had burned ourselves and nearly dislocated our wrists too many times to count. Thankfully Friday ran the calculations in the background, so we just did the manual labor part.

And coding. The pounding in my skull, the acid in my loins. My God, I hated coding during a hangover. Tony didn't fare any better and that was the best consolation, really. Despite the consumed caffeine, he passed out somewhere during the initial stage. I held out not much longer, barely catching myself as I was reclining against him on the very floor we were building on, scattered cups and tools and glowing holo-screens keeping us company. 

My sleep was deep but not deep enough to miss a pair of deep male voices contemplating how to best move mine and Tony's sleeping bodies somewhere more comfortable. The engineer was a cuddler, it turns out, and refused to unwind himself from my prone body, going as far as to kick one of the men - I later learned it was Thor who got a swift punt in the shins from Tony when the Asgardian and Banner attempted to untangle our combined limbs. In the end, they settled awkwardly piling me on top of Tony and Thor single-handedly carried us all the way to Tony's penthouse, depositing us in the absolutely magnificent fluffy, enormous bed.

The bed? I wanted one as soon as I landed on it.

The fishnets? They were beginning to cut into the soft parts of my body, causing an uncomfortable stinging and itching sensation whenever I moved.

"Bwucie," I slurred with my eyes shut, feeling the man rustling around with a blanket, tucking us in. He was just the sweetest scientist.

"Sorry, we tried not to wake you up. Go back to sleep, Princess," He whispered, leaning closer to my face. His breath tickled my hair.

"M'kay, jus' wanna get these off," I weakly pulled at the offending piece of clothing.

The man chuckled. "That looks uncomfortable," Before softly sliding his hands up my legs, hooking his fingers under the stretchy waistband and pulling them down. His hands were hot and soft; my moan was softer but he heard it nonetheless, hand briefly stilling on my thigh.

I snuggled deeper into Tony, rolling onto my side and unashamedly throwing a leg over his hips, happy to find his jeans were off, too.

It appeared that Tony's teammates had already developed some sort of care protocol for their resident mad scientists. Bruce's and Thor's actions had been executed with a practiced care and gentleness. The warm fuzzy feeling in my chest blossomed fully as Bruce once more tucked the blanket around me, tenderly patting me on the back and Tony on the shoulder.

"You'nThor, y'the best," I managed to wiggle out the words out of my muddled, uncooperative brain before returning back to the dreamland.

It felt like another ten minute nap when I woke up again. The lights in the room were off, the NYC skyline providing the illumination instead. Tony was still in bed with me, his breathing even and the quiet hum of the arc reactor steady under my ear. It was the first time I'd been close enough to him to hear the sound of it. 

Sleep slowly seeped out of my body, lead disappearing from my limbs. It seemed like I hadn't moved at all. Once my head cleared up, the confusion seeped in. I'd gone to second base with Tony and we did science and never spoke of it again. He didn't kiss me, didn't touch me more than usual - but didn't resist a good ole sleepy cuddle.

What now? I never thought I'd actually get this far. Some part of me - probably the same part that sent me on a romantic novel reading spree a couple of years ago - thought he'd wake up, confess his secret love and attraction for me and we'd seal it with a kiss. Yeah, no, that sounded disgustingly unrealistic even to my own ears. There was no way I would be kissing someone with this swamp I had going on in my mouth.

I wasn't actually that naïve. Why would a man like him pursue something serious with a girl like me? I was a child in his eyes. In fact, all of the Avengers minus Wanda and Bucky treated me like a child. I knew why and I still hated it. I've been taking care of myself in all the ways but financial for years, surely, they had to have noticed that. Teachers in school certainly did. Bruce did, to some extent, I had to admit begrudgingly. Even if his behaviour was really peculiar sometimes.

"Do I make a comfortable pillow, Princess?" A chuckle startled me out of my musings. Tony sounded relaxed and warm and cosy.

"Yeah," I answered honestly, tilting to see his face. He was giving me that lopsided smirk, the one he previously saved for science and Peter and Clint's baking ventures. Something within me stirred, painfully tightening my chest, and I fought against it to preserve this memory like this - happy, carefree.

His thumb found it's way around me, tracing the line of my jaw with surprising tenderness. He was looking at me like I was made of glass. Like I was the most beautiful sculpture he'd ever seen.

I scrunched my nose when his finger found my lips. "I need a shower and a toothbrush," I declared, not knowing what else to do. All of this - the atmosphere, the shared comfort, the looks - it felt too intimate somehow. Having to be on full display of his intelligent, deep brown eyes was terrifying: I felt like crying one moment and laughing the next.

"I was having a moment here," Tony snorted indignantly but relented nonetheless, slowly pushing himself up in a sitting position. 

I admired his broad shoulders and the dips and valleys of his arms as he stretched; he caught me staring and winked, of course. I retaliated with skimming my fingertips under the hem of his tee, lightly scratching my nails over his defined abs, delighted with his shiver. 

"Behave," He sternly mouthed, following with a smile.

"Never," I smiled back, slipping into banter with comfortable familiarity.

He then led me to the huge walk-in shower, unashamedly stripping off his shirt and socks on the way. Boxers were the last, flying somewhere over my head. My hormones were a raging inferno, or, at least that's what I would have said if someone asked me why the 'loading' icon was hanging over my head as I stared at Tony's round, firm ass. I had to touch it. I absolutely had to touch it, at least once in my life. 

My dignity was saved by my own yawn. Tony's hands used the opportunity to slide his hoodie (RIP) over my head, exposing me to the cold air. I shivered in my lacy bra and panties until they were gone, too. My flaws stared back at me from the wall-length mirror and with the way Tony's hands gently settled over my stomach, another hand copping a feel of my breast, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Beautiful, Princess," He simply said, having noticed the frown on my face.

"No, you," I automatically replied, smirking.

"Me? Nah," He shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing to his arc reactor. "Sexy, however... I'm definitely fucking hot," He leered, pressing his hips into mine with a knowing smirk.

I wiggled my butt, taking my time to turn around and face him. I saw right through the defenses he'd put up. The team didn't start calling me "girl version of Tony" without a reason - I knew we were quite similar in the less desirable character trait category. Impulsive, selfish. Defensive.

Angry red lines spanned across his chest, some faded, some raised. In the middle of it all, the arc reactor shone like a blue little sun in its metal framing. I traced around it, feeling the uneven skin, bumps and dips of it. "It keeps you alive. That's more than enough. For me," I placed a chaste kiss right in the middle of it. 

I wished he didn't have to have the thing. I wished he'd never had to go through what he went though in Afghanistan - for me, the press release I'd read was enough to get a grasp on the fact he was tortured and hurt and fucked up in there.

Stepping into the shower, I retreated from him, retreated from my feelings getting in the way and ruining the fun. The least I wanted to do was humiliate myself by crying out of... Out of what, pity? Lovesickness?

"I'm starting to see why everybody else thinks we might be related," Tony's chuckle sounded tired and slightly forced.

"I hope not," A moment to figure out what knob to turn and hot water rained down my body. Almost instantly, the tension in me melted away. "I'm not really into incest and shit."

"Ew," He walked under the stream, sighing agreeably. "But you're into bondage, so you've got that going on for you."

"Yep. Bondage and hot old dudes," I shrugged, reaching for the shampoo.

"I definitely qualify for all three," Tony promptly snatched the bottle out of my hands, standing behind me to do the tedious task of washing me. I allowed, guiltlessly enjoying the treatment. His dexterous fingers massaged my scalp, caressed my body. 

A moan slipped out of me at the glide of his hand across my nether regions.

"Tut-tut, Birdbrain is going to pitch a fit if we're late for dinner!"

"Fuck the Chicken," I announced petulantly, attempting to follow the motion of his hand with my hips. He held me firmly by my stomach, only succeeding in adding fuel to the fire within me. "Tony-y-y..."

"Nu-uh," He replied, but the smile hidden in my shoulder and the boner poking me in the hip gave him away.

"Sir?" I tried, getting a low groan in response. "Master? Owner? Daddy?" 

His breath stuttered at the last syllable, teeth closing none-too-gently around a patch of my skin. I felt a bruise bloom under his mouth, the delicious pull of it making me realize I'd be marked by Tony for days. A full-body shudder erupted from me at the thought. 

"You're trouble," He growled, grinding his own arousal into my ass. "Filthy, spoiled brat," Tony punctuated his words with another claiming bite on my shoulder blade. 

"I'm your trouble now," I smirked, relishing in all the attention my body was getting. The fingers that granted me sweet ecstasy at night a fresh memory in my mind, I relented my own urgent need in favour of repaying the man of my dreams for his troubles. 

One smirk and my knees rested comfortably on the strangely soft floor of the shower. I came face to face with Tony's hard cock. It stood proudly, the flushed tip of it dripping - with water or pre-come, I didn't know, but was eager to find out. 

"Fuck," Tony gasped, gazing down at me in astonishment as I tongued the slit of his cockhead. "You dirty little thing," He seemed to gather his wits quickly enough, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. 

He was just about to find out how dirty, I decided. There was something satisfying on a purely primal level, seeing a powerful man absolutely losing it with his dick in my mouth. Rapidly, I swallowed as much of him as I could. His girth throbbed. 

"Ruin me?" I popped off, resting my cheek against the hardness of it, tugging on his free hand to place it in my hair. My own arousal flared in response to his bewildered hunger.

Tony wasted no time in fisting a hand in my hair, carefully but firmly putting my mouth onto his cock. Inch after inch disappeared within my mouth; I was breathing through my nose as he slowly began fucking my mouth.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ, Princess, fuck," The mantra fell from his lips, echoing in the large room, mixing in with the water still pouring onto our bodies from above. The heat of it had nothing on the smouldering fire in my belly where it coiled tight and low. Tony's musk on my tongue, the firm hold on my hair. He truly held me, in body and in mind. There was nowhere else I'd rather be than on my knees for him.

I moaned around him causing a stutter in the moderate tempo. Our eyes met: his, wide and gleaming captured my own and I couldn't look away. With a wanton moan, Tony increased the pace, it quickly became brutal and punishing. I held onto his thighs for dear life, wordlessly pleading him to use my mouth for his own pleasure. 

And he took it, shamelessly, emptying himself into my mouth with a groan that nearly made me come untouched. It was beautiful and I swallowed every drop of him, refusing to let the evidence of his bliss go to waste. 

"Fuck," His voice was ragged. 

I rested my cheek against his thick thigh, catching my breath. "Good?" Just to quickly be pulled to my feet, trapped between his hot, wet body and the chilly tiles of the nearest wall. The shiver that ran through me was only partially caused by the sudden change in temperature.

"You did so good, you're my good girl," He mumbled against my lips, sliding his tongue into my mouth without any restraint. His other hand slid between my legs, immediately toying with my clit. That and the hastily spoken praise coupled with the feverish way he was licking himself out of my mouth sent me over the edge, until I was falling, stumbling head-first into an ecstatic abyss.

"Mmm... Tony," Dreamily, I savoured the moment.

"Oh, we're back to first name basis?" He snarked, finally turning off the water.

Pliant as ever, I followed him out of the shower and into his walk-in closet where he pointed at a row of t-shirts and hoodies. I grinned mischievously as I took my pick. "Daddy?"

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @softie-socks @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn

[pennamesmith]

Skeletor Lends a Hand

The support group acts out. Wrong Hordak gets a taste of his own medicine. More ‘Skeletor’ stories. Also, thank you to @ineffablelabpartners for the idea of “Princess Theatre feat. Wrong Hordak as Horde Prime.” See art for the opening scene by @cosmiquealiene here!

*

“I am Hordak!” Catra shouted. “And I defy your stupid face!”

She opened her hand. Wrong Hordak, wearing a mop on his head and with two extra eyes drawn haphazardly on his face, slumped to the ground.

“Oh! I am falling!” he wailed from the floor. “I have fallen! I am dead! Woe be to Horde Prime!” He splayed his limbs and stuck out his tongue for extra emphasis, making a few more death rattles as he did so.

It was drama therapy day in Wrong Hordak’s Ex-Horde support group.

Hordak, watching from the back of the small audience, hid his face in his hands and slouched as far down as he could in his chair. “This is the worst torture I have ever endured,” he whispered.

“Oh, but this is the best part!” Entrapta squeaked. She squeezed his arm and leaned into his shoulder.

The stage, such as it was, consisted of a marked-off portion of the floor, faced by the other group members, who mostly consisted of Entrapta and Hordak and about two dozen enraptured clones. Scorpia and Perfuma were by the door, working the lights.

Catra-as-Hordak continued to yell at her defeated enemy. “Ha! Serves you right, you creepy evil jerk! I bet you didn’t ‘see all’ that coming!”

“Catra! That’s not the line!” Adora hissed. She was kneeling on the ground a few feet away, pretending to be tied up. Her hair was bunched into two ponytails, and she had borrowed Entrapta’s welding mask.

“Ugh. Fine. Have it your way. I turned against my brother! What have I done?”

“Ca— I mean, Hordak!” Adora cried, standing up. Her acting was as wooden as ever, but she played the role seriously, holding Catra’s face tenderly in her hands. “It’s okay. You’re free now. You can be whoever you want to be.”

They kissed, passionately.

Hordak choked. “That did not happen!” he insisted, mortified.

“It would’ve been cute if it did, though,” Entrapta mused beside him.

The room erupted into applause. “Bravo!” one of the clones cried, wiping away a tear. “Bra-vah!”

The lights came up. Wrong Hordak jumped to his feet and bowed to the group. “Thank you, brothers! Thank you!” He straightened. “Now, consider this thought experiment: what would you have said to yourselves if you were the one to cast the villainous Horde Prime to his doom?”

The clones looked stricken. “I would have called myself a traitor!” one gasped.

“Worse than a traitor!” a second clone agreed. “A monster!”

“An abomination!”

“And yet,” Wrong Hordak said, still smiling, “Would you call the great Hordak any of these cruel things today?”

“Of course not!” a clone blurted. “He is a hero!”

“He turned against the false ruler! For love,” another added.

“He knows some things!”

A hushed murmur fell over the clones as realization dawned.

“So you see,” Wrong Hordak explained patiently, “Even though Horde Prime is dead, his lies can still live within us. We must learn to recognize Prime’s evil voice, and replace it with our own! Only then will he truly be defeated.”

As the clones discussed this new idea with excitement, practicing saying positive things to one another, Catra worked her way around to the back of the group and leaned on Hordak and Entrapta’s chairs.

“Enjoying the show?” she asked, smirking. “I think I make a pretty good you, Hordak.”

Hordak sank even further in his seat. “I fail to see the practical side of all this,” he grumbled.

“It’s very practical!” Entrapta protested. “Data shows that acting out roles can help us embrace new perspectives of ourselves and others.”

“Yeah,” Catra teased. “I find this exercise to be cathartic and entertaining, don’t you?”

“Attention, everyone!” Wrong Hordak announced, from the front of the room. “Next, Princesses Perfuma and Scorpia will perform their reenactment of ‘She-Ra and Her True Love Save the Heart of Etheria’!”

“You know what,” Catra said, “I just realized I have to go to the bathroom right now immediately.” She spun on her heel and speed-walked out of the room with a look of panic in her eyes.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon. This could be most amusing after all,” Hordak chuckled. He put his arm around Entrapta, and they settled in to watch the show.

*

Later, when the meeting had ended, Wrong Hordak busied himself with tidying up the room. Most of the attendees were still there, talking amongst themselves as they gradually filtered out the door. Entrapta and Hordak were chatting amiably with Catra and Adora by the snack table. Scorpia and Perfuma giggled to each other by the window and danced a few halting steps to music only they could hear. Wrong Hordak smiled.

“I am so proud of my brothers,” Wrong Hordak sighed happily. “They have learned so much!”

“Wonderfully horrible creatures!” his assistant piped up.

Wrong Hordak’s assistant was a robot, one of Horde Prime’s former drones that Entrapta had reprogrammed and given a voice. She called it ‘Skeletor.’

“We will form an alliance, but only until our task is complete!” Skeletor said.

“Indeed. Now then, my exalted brother, I have an important mission for you!” Wrong Hordak held out a broom and dustpan to Skeletor. The robot groused but took them and went to work anyway. As he did so, Wrong Hordak felt a hand tap him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Wrong Hordak turned around to find one of the other clones staring at him. “Oh! Greetings, brother.”

“Today was wonderful!” the clone complimented. “Your acting skills are marvelous. But I noticed you did not get a chance to berate Prime yourself.”

“No, of course not!” Wrong Hordak responded, smiling. “My purpose in this group is to help the others with their emotional journeys. Also, this exercise is about more than expressing anger. It is about self-actualization!”

“Well then, all the more reason for you to try it! You must find your own voice as well.” The clone pulled Skeletor away from sweeping the floor. “Here, practice on this drone! Drone, say something Horde Prime would say.”

“Er… You boob!” Skeletor tried.

The clone was unimpressed. “Something else.”

“The first one didn’t count,” Skeletor griped. “It was just practice. I was teasing the poor fool!”

“Then what would Horde Prime say? If he saw us making our own choices and thinking our own thoughts.”

Skeletor pondered this. After a moment, he shook his fists and shouted, “Get in line! I see you need a lesson in obedience!”

“Better,” the clone nodded, and then looked to Wrong Hordak. “And what would you say to that?”

Wrong Hordak hesitated. “I... I would say, I am no longer obedient to a tyrant!”

“Fool! You will serve my purposes!” Skeletor pressed.

“I will not!” Wrong Hordak pushed back, more confidently this time. “I serve only my friends.”

“Your friends only keep you around because it amuses them to have a pet!” Skeletor wheedled. “Be honest. Wouldn’t everyone be much better off if you had never come here?”

“That is not true!” Wrong Hordak said. “And, and even if it were, I am better for coming here! I want to be here! I am happy here! The light of this world is more fulfilling than Prime’s sickly light could ever hope to be!”

“Bravo!” the other clone applauded. “That’s the spirit!”

“Take a bow!” Skeletor cheered.

“Oh my,” Wrong Hordak breathed. “You were right, that was an exhilarating experience!”

“Exhilaration is my specialty,” the other clone boasted, proudly.

Wrong Hordak looked at the clone a bit more closely. “Are you new to our group?” he asked, curiously.

“Ah… Sort of? I’ve been coming for the past couple weeks, actually,” the clone admitted, and blinked. Sideways.

“Well, you will always be welcome and among friends here!” Wrong Hordak beamed. He gave a wink, and the air appeared to sparkle around him.

“O— Of course,” the clone stammered, seemingly taken off guard. “Excuse me, I must go now.” They turned and rushed away, hiding their face and making a noise that sounded a bit like an overheating radiator.

“What a nice person!” Wrong Hordak remarked, watching them go.

“Someone I could almost respect!” Skeletor agreed. “Meheheheheh.”

*

The next day, while Entrapta was working in her Bright Moon lab, a knock came on the door. She paused in her welding and went to open it, expecting Catra or Scorpia dropping by for a visit. Instead, she found a nervously fidgeting clone looking back at her.

“Oh. Hello. Can I help you?” Entrapta asked.

The clone quickly stepped inside, and then in a flash of dark light they weren’t a clone any more, but a lithe, svelte lizard person.

“I am having a crisis,” Double Trouble lamented, grabbing Entrapta by the shoulders. “And you’re the only one who can save me!”

“Oh! I see. You’re that shapeshifter!” Entrapta said. She blithely brushed Double Trouble’s hands away and sat back on her hair, looking contemplative. “Catra and Hordak told me about you.”

Double Trouble cringed. “They did? Well, that’s awkward.”

“...So, what can I do you for?” Entrapta pulled a pen and notepad out of her pocket and smiled expectantly.

“I— Really?” Double Trouble sat down on a piece of unused machinery. “Okay. In that case, it’s just… now that all the clones have discovered individuality, I think I’m beginning to see where you were coming from,” they admitted.

“I come from Dryl,” Entrapta supplied helpfully.

“That’s not what I...” Double Trouble sighed. “Look, can you just tell me what sort of things Wrong Hordak likes?”

Entrapta shrugged. “Cooking. Being dramatic. Rebelling. Why are you asking me?”

“I think I might actually be able to work with that,” Double Trouble muttered. “And I have to ask you because— because you’re the only person on the planet who knows how to romance one of these space bats.” They leaned forward. “Now dish.”

“What an unexpected pleasure!” Skeletor said. “I’ve waited a long time for this!”

[autistic-singer515]

The Brain’s Love Confession.

Here’s my fan comic sketch version of my previous fan art of Pinky and the Brain where the Brain thinks Pinky is dead and FINALLY confessed his love for him as well as blaming himself for his actions, including abusing his friend and forcefully controlling Julia.

The Brain: “Pinky! Pinky! Wake up! Oh, please..... “

The Brain tried and tried desperately to wake Pinky up by shaking him. But it didn’t seem to be working. He didn’t seem to be breathing. His pulse appeared to have stopped. The Brain felt his stomach drop. His sad eyes remained very open and still. Losing Pinky was like the world stopped turning for the Brain. His eyes filled with warm tears. He hyperventilated that it was almost difficult for him to breath. He knew he couldn’t avoid the fact that he was responsible for his friends apparent death. There was no way he was going to back it up or take it back. It was too late to save Pinky.

Where did he go wrong?

Pinky was always the lucky one when it comes to injuries compared to the Brain. Why did he have to get killed now?

It doesn’t make sense.....

The Brain never wanted Pinky to die or leave him alone. He had been his friend ever since after he was experimented on by scientists all alone and abused.

The Brain: “no, no, no, no, no! That should’ve been me who got killed!...... I made nothing but terrible mistakes!..... Pinky, how could have been so stupid!..... I didn’t want this!.... You were always getting in the way!.....”

But the Brain stopped himself and slapped himself in the face. He knew he should be grateful for his friends rescue and his devotion for him.

The Brain: “no! Snap out of it, Brain! No more insults!....”

The Brain looked down at the unconscious Pinky tearfully. He never seen his funny friend so lifeless in his entire life. He had bruises in his body too. He never thought it would happen.

The Brain finally clutched Pinky’s hand tenderly. He rubbed it with his other hand.

Even behind the Brain’s stoic appearance, he secretly loved hearing Pinky laugh, he’s even starting to miss him saying oblivious things like “I think so Brain and replies about stupid things like replacing the P of his name with an O and if I eat myself, would I disappear?”, say nonsensical words like Narf and Poit! and do idiotic stuff like squirt whipped cream into his ears to his mouth and dance to that stupid Schmeerskahoven song. Now Pinky the only mouse who loved the Brain dearly no matter how abusive he is and stuck with him through thick and thin was gone. He’ll never see him do silly things again. The Brain’s heart stung as he looked at Pinky. He grabbed his chest so tightly.

This depressing feeling of losing Pinky really hurts the Brain. He haven’t felt that way ever since he went to hell to save Pinky 24 years ago. But this was way worse.

“What kind of friend am I?” thought the Brain tearfully. “I gambled with his love for me..... And look what I’ve done to him....”

The Brain picked his friend up and let his head settle in his arms. He took a deep breath and then exhaled, trying not to hide his feelings this time even though it wasn’t easy. But Pinky is apparently gone, so he wouldn’t be able to hear him confess to him. But the Brain felt like doing it anyway. He couldn’t bare to hold it in much longer. It got him nowhere before and it would do it again. How the Brain regretted it.

The Brain: “Thanks for saving me, Pinky...... I’ve always said mean things to you, treated you like you were inferior to me and abused you.... You always were a good friend.... I never got to tell you how I really feel.... I was too obsessed with being tough and intelligent.... I was afraid I would once again be hurt and betrayed if I tell you my true feelings..... I couldn’t be the helpless and weak little mouse I once was....”

The Brain’s tears kept running down his cheeks profusely. He angrily shook his fist. He was so angry at himself for letting his obsession get to him. He could just kick himself for that. If only he could take all of it back.

The Brain: “It’s all because of my stupid childhood trauma and my stupid obsession with world domination!....... I haven’t realized it until now that every time I bottled up my emotions, it just gradually makes me worse!..... It just frustrates me to no end!.....”

The Brain touched Pinky’s lifeless face tenderly and began to rub his cheek. He began to smile bittersweetly, thankful to have Pinky as a friend. Without him, the Brain wouldn’t learn to love again, just pure anger and hate. He wouldn’t have wanted friends after he was taken away from his family to be experimented on and then his former best friend Snowball betrayed him. He never would’ve read his Christmas list for Santa. He never would’ve saved Pinky in the jungle after he gave him the courage to brave the unknown. He never would’ve sacrificed the world for Pinky at Halloween. He never would have quit smoking or stop encouraging children to smoke. He never would’ve fight his future self just to save him from him. And most importantly, he never would’ve changed his ways after Pinky felt his and Julia’s pain. Pinky might’ve ruined his plans for world domination, but the Brain couldn’t care less. He realized that Pinky was more important to him. If only he realized it sooner, even though he did save him a bunch of times.

The Brain: “But you showed me that it’s okay to be weak sometimes.... You didn’t treat me like the world’s greatest dictator.... But a normal individual who has inner compassion..... I knew it in my heart that you would never hurt me.....”

But the Brain’s smile dropped down. He sniffled. Saying those words made his depression grow. He rubbed his cheeks to dry off his tears.

The Brain: “But I learned those lessons too late.... I’m the one who hurt and betrayed you..... I’ve become the electric cheese platter.....”

The Brain sniffled again. If only he was a better friend for Pinky. If only he hadn’t abused him. If only he hadn’t abused Julia. That got the Brain’s friend killed. If only he was aware of his surroundings before he could go that far. But it was too late to take it all back. He didn’t even deserve Pinky in the first place. The Brain finally knew that he was a bad mouse.

The Brain: “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through, Pinky..... I don’t deserve to have a friend like you.... Lately I was more selfish, cruel, bitter, angry, pathetic and even...... EVIL!......”

The Brain thought about his old friend who turned against him and the world, Snowball. He was once hurt and betrayed by him after they’ve turned intelligent, just like the cheese platter hurt him. He never thought he would sunk this low like Snowball.

The Brain: “I’ve become more like Snowball..... My jealousy towards Julia has got you killed......”

Julia feels guilty for her own actions as she watched the Brain cradling Pinky tenderly. She unfondly remembered the Brain as a heartless and abusive dictator who seemed to be deprived of any emotions and love. But boy, was she wrong. The Brain just hid his inner struggles and love inside him just so he could take over the world. He does loves Pinky. He does have emotions after all. The Brain’s empathy is what saved her from her monsterous form and the obedience chip in her ear in the first place. But Julia’s eyes filled with tears. She thought her life was going to be so perfect when she was elected senator. She never thought this would happen.

How could she have sunk much lower than the Brain?

She killed Pinky all because of her unhealthy obsession with getting rid of the Brain after he controlled her forcefully.

She sadly thought about the times she had with Pinky when she kidnapped him. She abused him the same way the Brain did all because of the obedience chip changed her mentality. But Pinky was still so nice to her despite it all. Julia knew how much Pinky saw some good in people despite his faith in them could be blind at times.

Her lips shook intensely as she thought about Pinky.

Julia: “What have I done?.... Brain, I’m so sorry.... it’s all my fault.....”

The Brain felt just as guilty as Julia as she apologized to him. He pouted and bowed his head.

The Brain: “No!... You were right, Julia!...... I’m not a genius!..... I’m a monster!..... I made you suffer the same way I have suffered long ago.... if I haven’t controlled you with my obedience chip..... Maybe none of this would’ve happened!...... I would’ve let you make your own choices!.... I would’ve swallowed my pride!.... Pinky wouldn’t have sacrificed himself to save me from you!....”

The Brain sobbed really hard uncontrollably.

Even if the Brain admitted he was wrong, Julia still felt awful for her own actions. She was just the same as the Brain. A real senator would never do those things. If only she realized it sooner before it was too late. If only she listened to her conscious constantly telling her that her actions were just as wrong as Brain’s. She sobbed uncontrollably as well. She thought of herself as a vengeful monster too.

The Brain hugged Pinky tightly as he continued sobbing gushers of tears. His tears formed a puddle on the ground. He thought about the times he had with Pinky while trying to take over the world for over 20 years like dressing up as super heroes to save the world, traveling to the North Pole, reading Pinky’s Christmas list to Santa after rejecting multiple times, saving Pinky from Snowball a few times, getting lost in the jungle, saving Pinky from being trapped in hell instead of taking over the world alone, dancing in the beach together, saving the world together to stop people from being stupid from that stupid dance from the evil intelligent cat, Pinky carrying him when his robotic son exploded, saving Pinky from his future self and being trapped in a car machine. The Brain sang a dark depressing reprise of “Bonding” to Pinky.

The Brain: “I don’t deserve to have you back!..... It’s all my fault!....”

The Brain decided to really say the big one. He never said it to anyone in his life, not even Pinky.

The Brain: “I....... I.... I.....I......”

Why was the electric shock still making him nervous to say it?

Being weak sometimes isn’t that bad.....

It’s just new for him to say it to anyone, right?....

Come on! Spit it out!

Stop trying to hide it!

The Brain let his tear fell off his eye and dropped on Pinky’s nose. The tear on Pinky’s nose reflected the Brain’s tearful face. The Brain continued to cradle Pinky.

But then Pinky’s nose wiggled, feeling the tear. His heart began to beat again. His closed his squinted, unaware of his surroundings and the unexpected cradling back and forth. He weakly opened his eyes and looked at the glistening teardrop rolling down his nose. It felt wet.

Is it raining outside?

But the dew on his nose felt very warm.

It couldn’t be rain. Rain is usually cold.

But the dew rolled down into Pinky’s mouth. He tasted it. It was salty.

Tears?

But from who?

Then Pinky felt a very warm and fuzzy embrace around his head. He also noticed that his back head was also settled onto a round belly like a pillow. His right ear felt a heart beat at the Brain’s chest. Then the hug tightened. Pinky’s eyes popped out as he was being squeezed. He also recognized that tight grip.

Could that be?.....

Pinky slowly looked up and saw that the Brain was crying for him as well as hugging and cradling him.

That is so unlike Brain to do this for him. He was usually stoic and grumpy.

The Brain couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t waste it any longer. He exhaled.

The Brain: “I LOVE YOU, PINKY!!!!.... I LOVE YOU MORE THAN WORLD DOMINATION!...... THERE!.... I’VE SAID IT!......”

But Pinky did hear the Brain confess his love for him. His heart began to jump with glee. Finally! The Brain finally confessed his love for him!

How is that possible?

But Pinky didn’t bother about the logic surrounding it. He just smiled at the Brain.

He was loved. He was loved by Brain after all.

Pinky weakly pulled up his right arm. His hand touched the Brain’s cheek to rub off his tears.

Pinky: “I love you too, Brain...... Narf!.....”

The Brain heard his friends voice.

Could it be?

Is he alive?

Or was it his imagination?

The Brain suddenly grabbed his friends wrist.

The Brain: “Pinky?....”

The Brain looked down at Pinky. Pinky was smiling at him lovingly. He realized that he did heard him confess. The Brain touched his friends hand and clutched it tenderly again. He gasped happily. Happy tears were streaming down his face.

The Brain: “Pinky! You’re alive! Oh, thank goodness!”

Julia uncovered her face as she heard the Brain’s excited yells. She saw Pinky alive and well. Her heart sighed with relief. She didn’t kill Pinky after all. Happy tears streamed down her face too.

Julia: “Pinky! You’re okay!.... Bless my heart!...”

The Brain and Julia never felt this relieved in their lives.

The Brain hugged Pinky really tightly as he laughed and cried. He twirled him around. He didn’t even shy away from hugging him or denying it this time. As Pinky looked at the happy Brain, he sees him returning to his nicer self in the 90’s. And rather than speaking in an a more angry and slightly higher worn out voice, his voice became a lot calmer and deeper once again too. But Pinky had a feeling that it’s gonna be permanent this time. Their relationship is going to change for the better. Realizing this, Pinky happily hugged the Brain back.

The Brain: “For a while I thought you were a goner!... You scared me!.....”

Pinky hushed him calmly.

Pinky: “It’s okay now, Brain.... I’m here... I’m fine now....”

The Brain: “Oh, Pinky.... Oh, Pinky..... I can’t hold it back much longer..... I’m not that strong of a dictator.....”

Then the Brain finally bawls his eyes out, letting out years of repressed emotions. He cried more puddles of tears.

The Brain sobbed “I....I....I’m so sorry!...... I didn’t really m....m...mean to hurt both of you!..... I didn’t really mean to h....h...hurt anyone!..... I was such a repressed jerk!.....”

Pinky hushed him gently again.

“It’s going to be okay now, Brain.....” said Pinky reassuringly.

Julia herself wasn’t sure she should join in the hug after what she did to Pinky.

But Pinky gestures for Julia to join in the hug. So Julia joined in and cried remorsefully too.

Maybe the happy ending was all thought up by Dot who was infuriated by the overly moralistic and realistic tv executives who wanted the episode to be a sad cautionary story of Pinky and the Brain.

[until-theend-oftheline]

Baby Girl

Pairing: Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: Pregnant Reader, clumsy late Seb.      

Word Count: 1400ish

A/N: This is thought as part of my LLL universe but as always it can also be read as a stand-alone. This takes place summer 2013

Betaed by: @blacktithe7​ thank you, hun!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Your leg was twitching as you sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office. You had flown back to New York from Atlanta a few days ago to make sure you didn’t miss your appointment. Sebastian had to stay behind because his shooting schedule had changed last minute. Neither of you had been too happy about it but Sebastian had promised you he’d still make it to your appointment. As you sat in the waiting room staring at the clock ticking on the wall across from your seat, you started to fear that this was going to be the first time he would break a promise to you. 

You blinked hard to drive away the tears. You weren’t mad at him. You had no reason to be. You knew he had jumped the plane this morning after just a few hours of sleep. You knew he was on his way here, but he couldn’t control flight delays or New York traffic. The fact that he hadn’t met you out front of the office as he promised or that he wasn’t in the waiting room holding your hand wasn’t Sebastian’s own choice. He wanted to be here as much as you wanted him to be. 

He had practically spent the past week talking about nothing other anything than the fact that you would learn if you were having a boy or girl today. Your tears were as much for him as they were for yourself. You were starting to consider having the sex reveal postponed if he wasn’t in the room with you, but that thought filled you with doubt as well. Sebastian was so excited to find out, and even if you couldn’t be there, you feared he would be disappointed if you didn’t find out today. The only problem was that you really wanted that step to be something you shared with the father of the child growing inside you. You wanted to see his face when the doctor told you what you were having. You wanted him to hold you and share your excitement. 

You were gonna wait, you decided just as a loud boom sounded as the front door flew open and into the wall. Sebastian ran in without looking where he was going and instantly collided with the woman who had left the doctor’s office a few seconds ago and was now headed for the front door. 

You jumped from your seat as fast as your pregnant body allowed you too. The secretary shot out of her chair and was heading around her desk, but Sebastian averted disaster all on his own. He quickly reached out, grabbing the woman by the arms, keeping her steady and preventing her from falling over. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry.” Sebastian’s full attention was on the woman in front of him. You watched as her face when from shock to confusion before a small smile started to form on her face. You breathe a sigh of relief along with the secretary, and both of you seemed to agree to stay put, letting Sebastian handle the situation on his own. 

“Are you okay? I’m really sorry,” Sebastian rambled, looking the woman up and down, checking for obvious injuries. When he found none he looked back into her eyes, smiling when he realized she was laughing now. 

“I’m just fine. I wish my husband was as excited for my appointments as you are, but careful with the door next time,” she teased, making Sebastian blush a little and chuckle as he held it open for her. 

“I promise I will be. I’m sorry,” he apologized again and the woman gave him a small dismissive wave and a smile as she headed out the door. 

“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”

As soon as the woman disappeared out into the street Sebastian turned around, scanning the room and a huge smile spread across his face the second his eyes landed on you.

“Hi.” Sebastian was in front of you in three long strides, wrapping you in his arms and kissing your cheek. You giggled as you looked up into his worried eyes. 

“I’m not too late am I? I’m so sorry the traffic was insane. I ended up jumping out of the cap and running the last few blocks,” Sebastian explained before you hushed him, gently tugging his hair.

“You’re fine. I’m still waiting to be called in,” you smiled softly, trying to calm him, and Sebastian drew a sigh of relief, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I’m really sorry honey. You must have…” he started before you pushed him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You hugged yourself as tightly against him as you bump allowed and smiled when you felt him return your embrace willingly. 

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters. You can’t control New York traffic baby. It’s okay,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest, calming yourself to the sound of his steady heartbeat. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Dr. McKnight poked her head out of the office with a smile on her face when she saw the two of you. 

“So good to see you both again,” she welcomed as Sebastian took your hand and lead you into her consultation room. “How have you been? Has the morning sickness worn off?” she asked as she motioned for the two of you to sit. 

She took her time listening to you speak of your pregnancy so far, offering you advice and sympathy, smiling warmly. Sebastian rubbed your back tenderly as he listened more than he spoke. He was sitting a little uneasy in his chair and you gave his hand a small squeeze. You couldn’t help but laugh at the excited smile on his face and how he almost jumped from his chair as Dr. McKnight told you it was time for the scan. 

“Well Daddy seems excited,” the doctor playfully teased Sebastian. He had been at every appointment, and he made very little effort to hide the fact that the scans were his favorite part, even if he attentively listened and asked questions throughout.  

“We’ll be able to learn if we are having a boy or girl today right?” Sebastian addressed the Doctor as he helped you up on the table.

“Most likely. If the baby behaves.” Dr. McKnight smiled as Sebastian took his place next to you, holding on to your hand as the gel was applied to your belly. 

“Well. It’s Sebastian’s kid,” you teased your boyfriend, “so there’s a pretty good chance they won’t.”

“Hey.” Sebastian pinched your thigh playfully, causing you to jump and laugh along with the doctor. 

“Well. Either way, they are gonna be very lucky to have such loving parents.” Dr. McKnight grinned before playfully scolding Sebastian. “But Daddy is gonna have to stop pinching Mommy if this is gonna work.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian chuckled, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before his eyes were glued to the monitor once again. 

“There’s the heartbeat.” Dr. McKnight pointed to the screen, and a huge smile grew on both you and Sebastian’s faces. He squeezed your hand tenderly, never taking his eyes off the monitor as the doctor moved the wand around your belly. “Two arms, two legs, ten fingers, and toes,” she listed. “She looks like a healthy baby.”

“She?” Sebastian instantly picked up on the pronoun while you were still just happy to learn the baby was healthy. “We’re having a baby girl?” 

“Looks like,” the doctor laughed. “I’ll give you two a minute. You want pictures and a video again? You can get up whenever you’re ready, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Yes please,” you answered, when Sebastian stayed quiet, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check as he stared at the screen. 

“Are you okay?” you smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek and Sebastian’s tear-filled eyes found yours. 

“We’re having a girl,” he choked out, making you laugh and nod. 

“We are.” You felt a rush of excitement come over you as you acknowledged that. It suddenly felt really real, but you didn’t have time to dwell on that before Sebastian’s lips were on yours in a searing kiss that made your world spin. You were happy you were still lying down as he pulled back a little and looked deeply into your eyes. If the kiss hadn’t knocked you on your ass, the tender adoring look in his eyes would have. 

“I love you. I love you both. My girls,” Sebastian whispered fondly, causing your heart to skip a beat as he kissed you again. This time it was a kiss filled with love, promise, and hope for a future together as a family and the parents of a little girl. 

Reblogs spread my work and make me happy. Got a favorite part/line? Did something touch you? Do you relate in some way? Please tell me and make my day.

Sebastian Stan Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr​ @sleepretreat​ @roxyspearing​ @jewels2876​  @hellaqueerangelofthelord​ @danijimenezv​ @rumoured-whispers​ @becs-bunker​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @blacktithe7​ @grace-for-sale​ @averyrogers83​ @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ @sorenmarie87​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @erosbellarke​ @the-wayward-robot​ @super100012​ @myfanficlibrarium​ @winchesters-favorite-girl​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @igotkatiepowers​ @dottirose​ @deathofmissjackson​ @miraclesoflove​ @badassbaker​

[lana-b-bana]

love is a place

Summary: Wilhemina drops her cane under her bed, and, as much as she hates to admit it, she needs help in getting it. There’s only one person she would consider asking: Cordelia Goode. 

—

What a fucking mess. Wilhemina sighed, her head dipping down as she balled her bedsheets in her fists. What a mess. All she was trying to do was unzip her dress and for one second—one second—she took her hand off her cane and watched in horror as it clattered to the ground and rolled underneath her bed. Now here she was, sitting on her bed, dress half-unzipped and cane-less. Her damn dress wasn’t even unzipped all the way, so her foolish mistake was for nothing. 

Mistakes? Another one? a hissed whisper pierced her thoughts, and Wilhemina immediacy recognized it as her mother’s voice. She couldn’t claim that she had a happy childhood, with her always taking her mother’s rants about her disability quietly, but to heart. Even from the afterlife, she managed to tear Wilhemina’s self-esteem to shreds. You idiot, now look how helpless you are—

No. Wilhemina gripped the sheets harder. She was the most brilliant woman in the world; she could handle a little setback like this. Her head lowered more, but this time, her spine made its unwillingness to endure the awkward bend of her neck known. A sharp bolt of pain ran up her body, and Wilhemina jolted upright. Her stupid back. If it wasn’t acting up so much, she would have pushed through the pain and just dropped down on her stomach. Oh, would you really do that? You know you could never stretch without your back hurting. 

Wilhemina seethed, an equal mixture of fury, shame, resentment, and panic. Breathe, she reminded herself. Breathe. Think of all the different options. First, she could attempt to grab her cane. It surely didn’t roll too far. Upon further thinking, she ruled that idea out. She ... she couldn’t. Because you are weak—

Second, Wilhemina pushed on, she could try to find something long so she could poke her cane out. But when she glanced around her room, there was nothing. Fine, move to the third option. Was there even a third option?

Of course, there was. She could go ask for help. Help, really? Her mother’s voice again. Who are you going to ask for help from? Wilhemina squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t just sit there—she tried that already—so there unfortunately left that bitter option left. You never answered my question, child. 

“Cordelia,” Wilhemina whispered, her hands relaxing for the first time in hours. Cordelia would help her; she always promised that Wilhemina could count on her. 

Do you really think she would help you? That she wouldn’t laugh at how weak you are? Was that her voice or her mother’s voice? Did it matter? Wilhemina never lied to herself, and she wasn’t going to start now. As much as it pained her to admit, she couldn’t grab her cane by herself. Out of everyone she knew (which was admittedly a little pool of people), Cordelia was the one person that she trusted the most. Wilhemina wouldn’t even have to admit that to her, either.

Decision made, Wilhemina lifted her head to stare at the bedroom door that seemed to mock her by being so close, yet so far away. Just five steps, she reminded herself. Five steps. 

One, two, three, four, five. Wilhemina gripped onto the doorknob, concentrating on slowing her rapid breathing. That wasn’t too bad, she told herself, tried to convince herself. Five steps done. Easy.

But when Wilhemina managed to step aside and swing the door open, she had to sag against it as she stared at the hallway that only seemed to grow longer. No. She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t think like that. For God’s sake, she was Wilhemina fucking Venable, the almost CEO of Kineros Robotics. She could do anything if she put her mind to it. All she had to do was put one foot in front of the other.

And that was what Wilhemina did. She stumbled down the hallway as quick as she could, sagging against the door she knew was Cordelia’s. She raised her hand to knock, but before she could, she was falling—spiraling off a cliff somehow, plunging straight into the cold icy waters of the ocean. Except ...

Wilhemina opened her eyes. There was no hard impact with the floor or sudden pain. Instead, there was warmth. Warmth, like the feel of a tight hug. Wilhemina let her eyes drift up past the hemline of a white, sheer robe, higher past the sight of exposed skin, and into the shocked eyes of the person she wanted to see. But not like this.

“C-Cordelia! I’m—I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening. I just ...” Wilhemina trailed off, swallowing hard. She finally was where she needed to be, but how could she ask for help? Was there an easy way?

Cordelia’s eyes gentled, perhaps seeing the warring emotions written all over Wilhemina’s face. She tightened her grip on Wilhemina’s waist (which brought a flush to her face, as much as she wanted to deny it) and smiled. “You weren’t interrupting anything, Wilhemina. Where’s your cane, hmm?”

She rubbed circles with her thumb, prompting Wilhemina to inhale and say, “I-I dropped it. Underneath my bed. Could you ...?”

“Of course, darling. I’m glad you asked me. Let’s get you sitting down first, okay?”

“Mhm.” After Wilhemina mumbled her agreement, she tensed up, fingers curling into Cordelia’s shoulders. Would, God forbid, Cordelia try to carry her? Pull her there like a child?

Of course not. “Just hold onto me,” Cordelia whispered, slowly taking a step back. Wilhemina followed. This pattern of theirs continued, Cordelia taking a step back and Wilhemina taking a step forward. It was almost like a dance, and it was so easy for Wilhemina to just relax and follow Cordelia’s lead. She could apparently understand what Wilhemina didn’t say, and now, her instinct to move. How could someone know her so well? 

Their dance ended when Wilhemina sat down on Cordelia’s bed. Her eyes were still so warm when she said, “I’ll be right back, honey. Don’t worry.” 

As Cordelia left the room, Wilhemina let her gaze fall to the bed. There was no doubt in her mind that all the beds were of equal quality, but this one was softer and warmer—and it even smelled like Cordelia. Wilhemina’s face heated up, and she swiveled her head to look back at the floor, determinedly ignoring the now prominent smell of Cordelia’s perfume wafting around the room. 

After an eon, Cordelia finally came back into her room, holding Wilhemina’s cane. It sent the blood rushing back to her face as she was served another not-so-subtle reminder of how vulnerable she was. And she hated it.

Wilhemina snatched the cane from Cordelia’s hand and attempted to get up quickly. Much too quickly. Cordelia’s hands flew out, holding onto her waist. “Hey, hey, where are you going?”

“Back to my room. Thank you for your assistance, but that’s all I require.” 

Cordelia hummed, not taking any offense to being dismissed like a servant. “Why don’t you stay here for the night?”

“What?” Shocked eyes flew up to meet Cordelia’s. “Why? I have a perfectly functional bed in my room.”

“I know you do.” Cordelia reached up to tenderly cup Wilhemina’s face, and all she could do was stare. “I would feel much better if you stayed.”

“Well,” Wilhemina breathed out. “I wouldn’t mind staying, then.” She was kidding herself if she thought she was staying for Cordelia; she was selfishly staying for herself. But still, she was sure Cordelia knew that. So why was she still so kind and offering a choice?

Ah.

Wilhemina would never ask if she could stay, even though she wanted to, so Cordelia made it seem like she was the one who desired, not Wilhemina. There was a small bubble of protection she could manage to hide in, all because of Cordelia.

“Good.” Cordelia nodded and walked to her side of the bed. She shrugged off her robe and slipped under the covers as Wilhemina stiffly leaned her cane against a nearby nightstand and laid on her back. 

“Goodnight, Wilhemina.” With a wave of Cordelia’s hand, the lights went out.

“Goodnight, Cordelia,” she murmured into the darkness.

—

Wilhemina couldn’t stop tossing and turning. Usually, if she was unable to sleep, she would grit her teeth and forced herself to stay still. There was no soothing transition into the embrace of sleep, just force into tough oblivion. Perhaps her restlessness that night was because of Cordelia’s close proximity—oh, why was she deluding herself? It most definitely was because of her. 

It wasn’t Wilhemina’s fault. But every time she extended her arm, she brushed Cordelia’s nightgown (oh, she couldn’t think about that for too long), and when she turned her head to the side, she caught a whiff of Cordelia’s perfume. And this was, of course, her room but strangely, Wilhemina didn’t feel like an outsider at all. 

She felt like she belonged. 

Well. Wilhemina had never felt like that in ... years. She couldn’t remember the last time a feeling of contentment and intimacy. 

“Wilhemina, are you alright?” Cordelia’s sleepy murmur broke neither comfortable nor uncomfortable silence.

“I’m fine, Cordelia.” Wilhemina’s face certainly did not heat up at the sudden husky tone of Cordelia’s voice. 

“Are you sure? I can feel you thinking from here.”

“Ah, yes, well, I—” She hesitated, at a loss for words, an occurrence that happened increasingly often ever since meeting Cordelia. How could she explain the dichotomy of fear and want she was experiencing at the near presence of Cordelia? 

“You don’t need to explain anything to me, darling. Just come here.”

Heart beating rapidly, Wilhemina scooted closer to Cordelia. “Here?”

“Closer ...” Even in the dark, she could see Cordelia’s playful smile. “I don’t bite.” 

Oh, dear Lord. 

Cordelia pulled Wilhemina even closer until she was laying her head on Cordelia’s chest, her arm automatically going over Cordelia’s waist. Wilhemina hated to be so ... weak, but they were cuddling. Sort of. 

The worst part was that she liked it. Their embrace was long and natural and tender and intimate, and she liked it. 

“I can practically hear all the gears in your head whirring, honey.” 

Though there was no malice in Cordelia’s voice, Wilhemina couldn’t help but flush. “I don’t mean to, but I have so much I want to say, and I’m not sure ...”

“I’ll tell you what. We go to bed”—Wilhemina tried to ignore how nice the we sounded—“and in the morning, we can talk it out together. How does that sound?”

A pause. “Wonderful.”

Cordelia chuckled and began running her fingers through Wilhemina’s hair, sending shivers through her. “Goodnight, again, darling.”

“Goodnight, Cordelia. Again.”

Wilhemina finally relaxed into Cordelia, the voices in her head finally quitting. In their shared embrace, there was no room for evil murmurings or doubts. Just blissful silence and warmth spreading through Wilhemina’s body. What a good night, indeed.

[jpat82]

101 Ways To Kill Bucky Barnes

Welcome to The End

    Bucky wound you through the city at high speeds, taking turns seemly randomly. You held tight to the man that you were paid to kill, currently your only life line. He drove out New York and into Brooklyn, the heavy traffic died down a bit the further he got to the other side of that city. You closed yours eyes, just allowing yourself a moment, one moment where you could forget that you were being shot at and chased, that because of inability to kill one simple person that you were now marked for death also.

    When bike started to slow you opened your eyes once again, finding the two of you pulling into a parking garage under and older brick building. Bucky pulled into a spot and killed the bike. He didn't utter a word as he kicked the stand out and helped you off of it. The silence continued as he helped you up a flight of stairs and locked a door to an apartment.

    The walls were brick, and floor a beautiful chestnut hardwood. From the walls hung military memorabilia from the 1940's and pictures from that era as well. The floor was open design, and you could see a diningroom and kitchen from where you stood including the living room which hosted no tv. The wall your left was floor to ceiling in books, the wall to right was where the kitchen lay and a set of metal spiral stairs. And just in front of you taking up the entire side was windows that allowed you to see out toward the Harbor on the other side.

   Bucky took your hand and led you toward the kitchen, he lifted and set you on the counter. He open a cupboard near the sink and pull out a red bag with a white cross. Bucky came back over to you and took a breath, his eyes met yours and you knew what he was planning. He need to clean and doctor up the bullet hole in your leg. He grasped hold of the tear in your pant leg and ripped it open.

Blood dripped from the bottom of your boot slicking the floor as he looked at the damage done. The entry hole was clean enough, the exit wound was ragged around the edges. He untied your boot and slipped it off allowing it to fall the floor, a wet thud echoed through the room. Next he peeled your blood saturated sock off, that too hit the floor.

Bucky stepped away and grabbed a chair from the dining room. He sighed as he grabbed the bottle of alcohol and you bit your lip as you watched him work carefully.

"This is going to hurt." He stated calmly, his voice just above a whisper. Bucky grabbed your foot and gently placed it on his knee.

"I know." You replied, bracing yourself, gripping the wooden counter top tightly.

He poured the alcohol over the entry hole and you winced biting down on your lip to keep from screaming as it burned. The clearness of the liquid mixed with the crimson of your blood and washed down to the floor coating his pant leg in the process. Gently he turned your foot exposing the other side, and repeated the process as before. Pain exploded immediately and you slammed your fist down onto the counter top, screwing your eyes shut and tried to breathe out your nose.

"I have one of two options. One, I have something to put you under so you won't feel what I'm going to do." He explained, he lift his face and his blue eyes looked back you. "Or two, you can be a wake while I finish cleaning, I have to clean the edges up of the exit hole before I can suture you up. I'll warn you, you'll have some really bad scars though, I wasn't a medic."

"It will just add to the rest of the scars that cover my body." You replied quietly looking down at the blood that continued to ooze from the open wound. "How long will it put me out for?"

"An hour, maybe two."

"Will you still be here when I wake?" You asked, looking back up to meet his stare.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Let's do it then." You told him, you had been through this pain more then once. But he was giving you opportunity for once not to feel the pain, he was giving you the choice as he hand you a small white pill and a glass of water. You tossed the pill back and took a sip of water before setting the glass down.

"It's going to take a minute or two." He explained as stood up and pulled you from the counter. Bucky gently lifted you bridal style, carrying you over to the chestnut table in the dining room. He tenderly laid you down, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I'm sorry Bucky." You told him as your eyelids became heavy. A small smile broke across his face as he walked back to the kitchen leaving you to doze.

————

When you woke the room was darkened, a lamp in the corner of the room where the windows and book wall met was on. You were laid out on a leather couch. The yellow light from the lamp poured out over the empty leather arm chair, a small end table had a book open, face down and small coffee cup.

Slowly you began to sit up, the beige colored fleece throw slipped down your shoulder pooling around your waist. You were still wearing what you had when Bucky brought you here. You pulled the blanket back the rest of the way, and stood up looking around for the man that for whatever reason you just could not kill.

"Bucky?" You called out, looking around the vast empty room.

"Up here." He replied, your eyes snapped up to see him standing at the top of the stairs. He was shirtless, and his heather grey pants hung low on his hips as he descend the stairs and came to you. Beads of water dropped from the loose pony tail. "How's the leg?"

"Hurts like hell, feels like I've been shot again." You replied, watching him as he stopped just in front of you, making you feel small.

"Again?" He asked, his eye brows raising.

"Yeah, I'm not photographer." You admitted even though he knew this.

"Want to tell me who you really are?"

"My name is y/n, it's the first time I've ever actually used my real name. I'm an assassin for hire, I've been at this for as long as I can remember, well before I was an adult." You replied, you looked down at your feet suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I've was hired a while to kill the man the world knew as the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. I knew the name, and I knew the legend."

He remained quiet as you spoke, and you could see by his feet that he didn't move.

"I don't know the name of the man that hired me, not his actual name. Just like all the others they use fake name and I was being paid a lot of money to do this." You sighed, slowly you lifted your head and allowed your eyes to meet his, tears clung to the corners. "I.. I just, after a point I don't know if I started to mess up on purpose or what but the more I got to know you the more I couldn't do it. And I feel horrible."

Tears feel freely from your eyes as you stood before him, Bucky lift his hand and brought it to your cheek, cradling it softly. His thumb swiped across, wiping the tear from your face. He took a deep breath and nodded before reaching and grabbing your other hand.

"Knowing people were trying to kill you, not knowing where you were, and then seeing you bleeding. That just about killed me." He stated at first. "I can look past the failed attempts of you trying to assassinate me, cause it's what I used to be. But these people that are after you, they would never of let you walk away, even if you had managed to some how kill me. These people are part of the same group that made me, they're called Hydra."

Slowly he walked you over to the couch and sat down. You followed him, taking great care not to disturb the white bandage the encompassed your calf.

"Me, Sam, Tony, Clint, Nat all of us a part of team that take people like them out. And it's your choice, you can either slip away, and hide the rest of your life knowing that there is alaways going to be a chance that they will find you." His eyes never left yours as he spoke. "Or you can join us, Natasha was a spy and assassin with KGB, and I'm a former assassin myself, we could use someone like you. And you have protection and hopefully take out the people that order the hit on me. It's all up to you."

"You don't hate me?" You asked, looking at him in pure confusion.

"Nah, though, I'll give you credit. Nobody has ever tried to kill me using a venomous snake." He smirked.

"Alright, I'll join.”

"Welcome to the Avengers."

Permanent tag-

@kitkatkl

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101 Ways tag-

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If I missed you just let me know or if wanted to be added as a tag!

[impatentpending]

Powerless Chapter 14 - Local Prince Dude Gives up Life of Celebrity Status to Become Merman

chapter one   read on ao3 for my sassy notes

Trigger Warnings: -Dub-con (Skip paragraph starting with “ 'Here.' Her hands were stroking his stomach" and pick back up at "He lay in bed afterwards," -Violence (Skip " '...can’t be all!' Someone snapped." through "Roman’s hand flexed at his side.")  -Descriptions of emotional abuse (Skip "“It’s not,” Roman blurted out." through "Roman paused, frozen, before speaking so quietly")

“Yes.”  He heard his voice say.  “Yes, of course, my love!”

Missy didn’t smile at Roman when he accepted her proposal.  She smiled for the cameras then flew to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes in a gesture Roman was far too familiar with.  He let his body move on auto-pilot, dipping her for a kiss anyone else would see as passionate.

He smelled blood.

When she finally released him, he could hear someone screaming, or perhaps that was just his brain howling as he wished to.  She gently grabbed his hand and slid the ring on it. He had to take several deep breaths and fight against the heat that pricked at his eyes when the band fit perfectly.

She ran her fingers over an engraving he hadn’t noticed before.   Forever yours, it read.  The warmth in his eyes spilled over.

“Happy tears,”  He heard someone across the room sigh dreamily as Missy tenderly reached up and wiped them away, cupping his jaw.  She performed a choreographed dance of the girl in love to a percussional beat of camera flashes and applause.

“Come now, My Prince.”  She pressed a dazzling diamond ring into his hand.  “My turn.”

His hands were shaking so badly it took a few tries to slide the band around her petite ring finger.

“Smile, my darling!”  She hissed in his ear as she kissed his cheek.  “You’re an engaged man now, and the world is watching.”

Those words were all it took for Roman to sink back into himself, letting The Prince take over.  He watched through jaded eyes as The Prince shook hands, accepted congratulations, wrapped an arm around his fiancée’s waist.

Smile.  The world is watching.

He only slipped back into himself for a moment when he saw Thomas and Logan, staring at him with sad eyes from across the ballroom.   I didn’t want to do it!  He wanted to cry.  I didn’t want to!  I don’t have another choice, don’t you understand?

He wanted nothing more than to run to them, to forget about all of this, to ask where the villain was - oh no, had he seen that? - to beg them for sanctuary, to scream, but Missy placed a hand on his arm and introduced him to another socialite he would never remember.  When he turned to look for them again, they had been swallowed up by the crowd.

Missy curled up against his side when they made their final rounds and finally escaped to the limousine waiting outside.  She pulled her smartphone out of seemingly nowhere - seriously, how had she been able to hold it while wearing that dress? - and tapped it on.  “We’re already trending,” She announced, the small, glowing box casting odd shadows over her face. She was reduced to red lips, cheekbones, a button nose, and eyebrows.  The plane of her cheek looked jagged and sharp in the artificial glow. “Did you know our ship name is ‘Prissy’? The Prince and Missy.” The disembodied lips giggled. “How cute.”

“Wonderful,”  Roman said robotically.  He stared out the window as neon signs and yellowed streetlights peered inside the car for a moment before flashing away.

“I’m being called a feminist icon!”  Missy cheered, swiping a finger across the screen.  “Here, listen to this one: ‘how much of a literal icon is Missy Darnelle?  She gets the hottest guy on the planet and doesn’t wait around for him to propose, she does it!  Honestly, queen. #goals #prissywedding’.”

“Wonderful,”  He said again.

“You don’t look too well, my heart.”  Missy reached away from him to rummage through the limo’s bar.  “Here.” She pressed something into his hand, and he knocked it back without a second thought.

She returned to her phone, and he returned to staring at the streetlights, flashing like cameras.

Smile.  The world is watching.

They had barely gotten through the door to their penthouse before Missy was pressing herself against him.  “We’re engaged!” She crowed, giggling. “Aren’t you excited?”

Roman didn’t say anything, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Come on, my love.”  There were suddenly hands pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and lips pressing against his neck.  “Let’s celebrate.”

“Missy, I don’t… I don’t…”  His tongue felt heavy in his mouth; his head was swimming.  His skin crawled over his bones, trying to find a comfortable position to no avail.

She was watching him with half-lidded eyes and a smirk.  “What’s the matter, my dearest love?” She laid a hand on his arm, and he stumbled after her into their bedroom.  “You don’t seem quite yourself.” She sat him down on the edge of their bed.

“I’m not.”  He tilted his head back and tried to regain his senses.

She stroked his back soothingly and tried to repress her smile.  “You must’ve had something that disagreed with you.” It had taken her long enough to find out if drugs worked on him.  “Maybe that baking? I told you it wasn’t a good idea to use that caterer.”

He didn’t respond, trying to calm his racing pulse.  

“Here.”  Her hands were stroking his stomach and moving lower.  “Let me help you feel better.”

He shook his head, feeling the moisture prick at the corners of his eyes.  “No, I don’t…”

Missy sighed and stopped, lying her head in his lap.  “Why not?” She reached for his hand and laced their fingers.  The gentle clink of gold on gold reverberated throughout Roman’s body like fingernails on a chalkboard.  “Don’t you want to make your future wife happy?”

Wife.  Roman sank back into himself, retreating into his own special room in his mind.  “Of course I do.” He said.

The hands were back.  “Then prove it.”

He could push her off.  Even in this addled state, he could.  He could shove her away or make a break for it before she even saw him move or hold her at bay or do anything but simply stay there.  It would be effortless.

Missy leaned forward, brushing the shell of his ear with her ruby-painted lips.  “You might as well get used to it. You’ll be my husband soon, after all.”

It wasn’t like he really had another choice.  He never did.

He tilted his head back and let it happen.

He lay in bed afterwards, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes as Missy slumbered gently against his side.  He couldn’t stay here. He’d go mad if he did.

Ever so slowly, he edged away from Missy, his heart lurching with every squeak of the mattress and his breath catching every time she stirred.  He dressed in darkness, throwing on his Prince uniform. He need to go patrolling.

“You can’t leave me, don’t you know that?”

He turned to see her, propped up on her elbows and smiling at him as if he was a trained animal who had just performed a particularly amusing trick.

“What was it that you thought?  They’ll crucify you on a cross of gold if you do.”  Her pale body shone in the moonlight. She was ethereal.  “You’re my fiancé, dear.  I’m the only one who’ll ever love you like this.”

He swallowed hard.  “I know.”

She smiled gently and lay back down.  “Good.”

When Roman got outside, he started running.  He had never before bothered to check his top speed; he just knew that he hadn’t reached it yet.  Well, now was as good of a time as ever.

He blazed past the towering skyscrapers of New Psyche, watching as the road beneath his feet turned from black asphalt to cracked gray concrete to a white sandy beach.  The suburbs had already blurred away from him, and he found himself running faster than any passersby could see along the Florida coast, towards the peninsula’s end. His heartbeat almost drowned out the sound of his ragged howls as he screamed into the unfeeling, uncaring sky.  The universe, mostly void, partly star, looked down at the silly human with sweat dripping down his brow and sand being flung up in his wake, and it laughed.

Roman didn’t stop when he saw the cliff before him.  He pushed down and ran even deeper, kicking up sand and winds.  What was it going to do, kill him? He lept off.

For a moment, weightlessness.

Then the dark sea rushed up to greet him, and he sucked in a deep breath.  He opened his eyes and lazily watched as bubbles streamed to the surface, racing each other to first reach the moon, rendered into a murky green light.  Schools of fish swarmed him, playfully peppering him with open-mouthed kisses and batting their fins against him. He sank to the bottom, curled up with his knees tucked to his chest as he settled on the sands, compacted by almost a hundred pounds of water pressure.

He was a man of iron and steel.  His lungs didn’t burn from a lack of air; he wouldn’t need it for a long time.  Maybe if he stayed down here long enough, he’d be lucky enough to rust, his skin turning red and brittle as he let the soothing crash of waves drown out the screaming of his mind.  He could be happy here, staring at the green moon and making friends with the fish. It was certainly nice enough at the bottom of the ocean. The water swaddled his skin, grains of salt embedded in silk.  He could feel every stray piece of debris and every miniscule air bubble that danced along his armored skin. Sounds traveled better in water as well; a few miles away, a crab was skittering along its way, dragging its shell over a piece of coral.

The overwhelming stench and taste of salt weren’t exactly ideal, but he could make do.

He’d become a mysterious sea monster, only seen by local children and wizened old fishermen.  He’d be good at playing up the terror of it; he had wanted to be an actor when he was little, after all.

And didn’t he have a kinship to this ocean?  Only two generations ago, his abuelos had climbed into rickety rafts and sailed the ninety miles from Cuba to the United States.  Maybe they had landed on the very beach he had just leapt from.

He let himself entertain the fantasy for a moment longer as his fingers trailed through intriguingly slimy seaweed.  There was no world to smile for at the bottom of the ocean, but, then again, there was no audience to dazzle either.

Besides, he had things to do up there.

He pushed off against the silty bottom and shot through the surface, gasping as his lungs drank in sweet, sweet night air.  It tasted of salt and honeysuckle and moonlight.

He floated in the ocean for a few moments longer, vaguely aware that he was completely wrecking his uniform but not quite caring.  It seemed irrelevant in the constant ebb and flow of the waves, gently rocking him from side to side.

Eventually, however, he ducked beneath the surface, kicking his feet.  He was almost five miles out; he made it to the shore in just under thirty seconds.

A laugh escaped as he collapsed, boneless on the sand.  He was okay. He’d be okay. Adrenaline from the chill of the water was flooding his veins, the moonlight filled him with a recklessness daylight could never inspire, and his fingers were tapping restlessly at his sides.  Suddenly, Roman wanted nothing more than to get in a fight.

On a night like tonight, he had no trouble believing he could find one.

He stood, brushed himself off, finger-combed his hair, and broke back into a run.  Miles flew by in increasingly larger increments as he pushed himself, faster, faster, faster, until, in the moment between one heartbeat and the next, the lights of New Psyche changed from a faint twinkle in the distance to a living, breathing organism he was a part of.  Salt water was left ages behind as his speed stripped the brine from his sticky clothes.

His body knew the city almost as well as his mind did.  They worked in perfect tandem, rounding corners, leaping over barbed fences, kicking off of one building only to flip off of the next and then back to the first as he climbed higher and higher into the night.  He stopped at the top of the Fossa Tower, the tallest building in the state.

Stars weren't visible to most people this deep in the city; even Roman had trouble making them out.  But they were still there, his friends, the witnesses to all of his pains, his constant companions. They looked so close.  Roman reached out a hand, sure he could touch them, but only found dead air.

He settled on the edge of the sloped roof and closed his eyes, letting his other senses take over until he was defined by the things around him, fading into the city as it whispered to him all it knew.  The smell of chinese take-out - an awkward first date. The sound of a dog scratching at a door - a midnight walk. The taste of oil on the air - a broken-down car.

Quickening footsteps, an accelerating heartbeat, the smell of fear, a scuffle, an aborted scream - Roman’s eyes snapped open as a dazzling grin spread across his face - a fight.

He skid six-hundred and twelve feet down the side of Fossa Tower, one hand and both feet against the glass.  He jumped when he reached the last few hundred and hit the ground running.

“...can’t be all!”  Someone snapped. “C’mon, what else ya got?”

They were five blocks to the west, in a mildewy alley.  Roman was there in ten seconds flat, arriving at the alley entrance just as a young woman was sobbing “That’s it, I swear!”  She was pinned against the grimy wall to a run-down building by a man easily half a foot taller from her. He was pressing a gun into her stomach with one hand and rifling through a black duffle bag with the other.

“All that’s in here is spray paint!”  The man spat, throwing the sack to the ground.  “Where’s the cash, girlie?”

She shook her head desperately.  “I don’t have anything else with me.”

The mugger’s eyes caught on the blue devices clipped to both of her ears.  “Well, what about these?” He snatched them from her, and she curled back, sobbing.

“Well.”  The Prince’s sonorous voice rang out, sending ice water down the criminal’s spine.  “That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you.”

The mugger swore, grabbing the woman and pulling her in front of him as he aimed the gun at the hero, dramatically framed by the yellowing light streaming in from the road.

Roman resisted the urge to crack up.

“Get outta here,”  The mugger tried to command, but only managed to reveal how badly his voice was shaking.

Roman took a moment to seize his opponent up.  He was a large, burly man. If Roman was anyone else, he would’ve called him massive.  The way he held the gun suggested he was more than familiar with it, and the deep, steady breaths he was taking indicated he was gearing up for a fight.  His gun had a silencer; he was used to violence.

There wasn’t much he could do about his invulnerability, but Roman had always believed in a relatively even playing field.  He mentally set his handicaps: no offensive superspeed, minimal strength, no breaking bones.

The woman whimpered, and the man roughly jerked her.

Well, maybe a few broken bones.

A grin flickered across The Prince’s face.

This was going to be fun.

He held up his hands placatingly and slowly stalked forward, not quite managing to hide his smile.  “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

The mugger fired his gun.

The Prince caught the bullet on instinct, crushing it in his palm and letting the twisted shell clatter to the floor.  He mentally frowned at himself. Bad Roman. No offensive superspeed.

“You knave!”  He gasped. “Here I am offering a civil denouement to our crisis and you fire upon me?  How heinously d-”

The man shot again.

The Prince twisted out of the way, watching with interest as the bullet crept past his face.  Honestly, how did other people live so slowly?

He snapped back into place and glowered.  The brute didn’t even bother to let him finish his monologue.  Now that was just rude.

“You could’ve at least--”

Another volley of gunfire cut him off again.  Ugh, his usual witty banter with the villain had absolutely ruined him for anyone else.  His body twisted on instinct as his mind drifted. Common criminals could at least put in the effort.

Then again, Roman thought, with a pain that weapons could never offer him, it was unlikely that anyone could match that sharp tongue.

It took Roman a moment to realize that the slight ping over his heart was a bullet and not merely the pangs of pining over something that he knew could never be.  Something he had rightfully put a stop to, before they were both destroyed.

The bullet bounced off of his chest, ripping a hole in his uniform before clattering to the pavement.

Roman plucked it off of the ground and examined it.  It had been crushed into a perfect, flat disk between his skin and its own force.  He grinned beautifically.

That was enough of wandering thoughts.  Now was the time for battle.

“Ooh,”  He cooed.  “That tickled.”

The mugger’s eyes were wild as he jabbed the gun into the woman’s side.  “Back off!” He snarled, wrapping an arm across her throat and plastering her to his front.  Her legs flailed helplessly in the air. “Let me go or I’ll kill her!”

“What is he saying?”  The woman asked, volume dipping wildly.  “What’s he saying?”

Roman ignored her, making eye contact with the mugger and ensuring there was no mistaking his words when he spoke.  “Okay.” His hand fiddled at his side, first index and thumb out, then the thumb jutted, a fist, a surfer sign.

“What?”  Surprise made the man waver for a moment before he redoubled.  “I mean it! I’ll kill her!”

Roman shrugged.  “Go for it.” Index finger pointing, a flat palm with fingers curved in, a fist, index finger pointing.

“I will!  I mean it!”

“Cool.”  Thumb under two fingers, a loose circle, three fingers flicked out.

The sound of the woman’s heartbeat was deafening to The Prince.  That is, until he heard the faint puff of a gun with a silencer being fired.

Her body slumped to the ground.

“Why…”  The man looked at The Prince with frightened, confused eyes.  “Why would you let me do that? I thought you were supposed to be the hero.”

“Oh, I am sometimes.”  Roman cooly looked down at the woman’s slumped body and blinked slowly, lazily at her glazed eyes.  “But sometimes I prefer to be an actor.”

The woman shot up and scrambled to the hero, hiding behind him.  His gaze followed her for a moment before it snapped back to her assaulter.  The Prince shrugged cockily, a grin licking at the corners of his mouth. “You were out of bullets.”

The mugger snarled and threw the gun somewhere behind him.  (Roman made a mental note to find and destroy it later.) He stalked forward, but hesitated, common sense warring with his anger.  

Roman smiled.  “Here, I’ll cut you a deal.”  He reached up to lace the fingers of his right hand through the bottom of a low-slung fire escape balcony.  “This hand will stay exactly where it is the entire time, okay?”

The mugger growled.  “You cocky son of a-”

Roman sighed dramatically, cutting the foul-mouthed peasant off.  “If I had a dollar for everytime someone called me that, I’d have enough money to hire someone to come up with better insults for you, you rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril.”

The mugger, enticed, threw his self-preservation away and himself forward.  He lunged for the hero, swinging a fist.

The Prince neatly dodged it, then laughed.  “Come on.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “I was hoping for a challenge here.”

Neither of them were paying attention, but the young woman had hidden herself away in a dark corner, watching the madman and the criminal spar.

The criminal threw another punch, but Roman deflected it with his forearm.  The criminal howled in pain as Roman delivered a kick to his side. He retreated, watching the hero with dark, wary eyes.

Roman smirked.  “Where ya going, hot stuff?”  He wriggled his right hand, still trapped in the fire escape, meaningfully.  “I’m not done with you yet.”

The criminal lurched forward, trying to catch the hero off guard.  Roman let him get in a few punches to his torso - they hurt the other man more than him - before he began smoothly twisting out of the way again, the jabs becoming no more than glancing blows.

The mugger started to attack Roman’s immobilized arm, and excitement struck lightning through the hero’s veins.  “Not as dumb as you look, huh?”

The criminal was breathing heavily, but he ducked down to dodge Roman’s punch anyway.  He charged forward, bent as if to drive his shoulder into the hero’s chest. Well, that wouldn’t do.

Roman gripped the fire escape even more tightly and pulled himself into the air the split second before the mugger made contact.  He warbled past, carried by his own momentum, but Roman shot out his legs and wrapped them around the other man’s torso. The hero squeezed until the mugger was gasping for breath, then he let him go.

A thin sheen of sweat coated the mugger’s brow, and Roman realized with some disappointment that his opponent was getting winded already.  The criminal was edging away warily, pain and several cracked ribs knocking the common sense back into him.

“No one ever lets me have fun anymore,”  Roman sighed.

Then, he punched the mugger in the face.

The criminal flew through the air, slamming against a dumpster with a terrific clamor.  Roman listened closely to his breathing, the pulse of his blood, the way bone fragments grated against each other.

The criminal had three cracked ribs, a hairline fracture in his arm, a broken nose, a mild concussion, and several lovely bruises forming, but it was nothing he couldn’t recover from relatively quickly.

Roman allowed a small, cocky grin to spread across his face.  His hand had never left the fire escape.

“Well, you miscreant.”  Roman relaxed his hand and pulled it back to his side as he stalked towards the criminal.  “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The mugger gently touched the edge of his bloody nose and shook his head, garbling a nasty laugh.  “You don’t know what it’s like out here for us on the streets, man. You live in your penthouse and the whole world loves you while we rot.  This is the only way for me to make a living.”

Roman’s hand flexed at his side.  “I know more about that than you think.”

He effortlessly threw the man over his shoulder and ran to the nearest police station, making it in five seconds flat.  “This is a mugger, total bad guy, please lock him up, blah blah blah.” He proclaimed, dumping the man - queasy from superspeed - on the floor.

The precinct seemed to hold still for a moment, wide eyes staring at the sudden advent of their Prince.  A coffee mug slipped from someone’s hands, shattering on the ground.

“Oh,”  Roman mentioned.  “He also probably needs someone to look at his arm.”

Still, no one moved.

Roman internally groaned and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  It wasn’t that he blamed everyone for immediately being bowled over by his magnificent presence, it was just that it was a tad inconvenient at times.  “You,” He said, pointing to a police officer at random. It was a young kid, probably a rookie, with dark, eager eyes, and an open, kindly face. “Cuff him and get him to medical, okay?”

The rookie immediately shot up and rushed over to cuff the criminal, reciting his miranda rights with a grin that stretched from ear-to-ear.  “Oh my gosh,” Roman heard the kid say as he led the criminal away. “Rosa is never going to believe this.”

Roman looked around the precinct.  “Everything gucci?”

“Y-yes, My Prince.”  An officer found their voice.  “Everything is… fine.”

“Cool.”  Roman shot them a two-fingered salute and was gone before they could blink.

“Holy crap.”  Officer Nam-gi Paek pressed a hand into his chest, futilely trying to calm his racing heart.  “I’m so gay.”

No one could disagree with that particular sentiment.

As he was running through the night, back to the dingy alleyway, Roman was aware that he hadn’t exactly given off the most ‘Princely’ impression back there, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  There was something more important that needed tending to.

“Hey,”  He said softly, crouching a comfortable distance away from the young woman, still curled up on the ground in a dark corner.  “Are you okay?”

She just looked at him helplessly and shook her head.  “I don’t know what you’re…” She trailed off, unsure if she was making sense or if a string of jargon had just left her mouth.

“Oh!”  Roman could have smacked himself for forgetting.  “I’m so sorry.” He arose and scanned the alley until he found the small blue devices the woman needed.  “Here.” He gently dropped her hearing aids into her palm.

She reattached them with shaking hands and sighed in relief when they were back in place.  “Thank you.”

Roman flashed her a grin.  “Well, my lady, what do you say we get off of this filthy ground? I’m sure it’s absolutely wrecking my uniform, and a Prince has got to slay.”

A hesitant grin grew to match his as the woman took the hand Roman offered.

“And might I have the pleasure of knowing the fair maiden's name?”

She smiled at him shyly as he pulled her to her feel.  “Navya. Navya Patel.”

“Well, then, Ms. Navya.”  Roman dramatically pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.  “Might I say what an honor it is to rescue such a gentle lady as yourself.”

“Thank you, My Prince.”  She murmured softly, a hand continuously coming up to her hearing-aids, as if to ensure that they were still there.

A stab of malcontent pierced Roman.  “My name is actually Roman.” Navya stayed silent, looking at him with dark, confused eyes.  “Did... you know that?”

Her face dropped down.  “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry, My Prince.”

“No, don’t be.”  The breezy way Roman waved his hand was a stark contrast to the hungry thing in his chest, back it again, gnawing at the space behind his ribs.  “I expected as much.”

“That was very clever.”  She broke the silence that threatened to become awkward.  “What you did when... that man had me.” She picked up her discarded duffle bag, riffling through it to ensure everything was still there.  “How did you know that I was deaf?”

He shrugged.  “I saw him take your hearing aids.”  Roman frowned. “What were you doing out here anyway?  New Psyche isn’t exactly known for its sparkling reputation of civic virtue.”

“I know,”  She sighed, twisting a silver ring around her finger.  “But look,” She said, gesturing at a section of graffiti on the wall behind them depicting a broken, black crown.  Her face glowed with joy and pride.

“It’s…”  Roman struggled to find something to say, but he didn’t know how to state the odd twisting in his chest.  “Certainly unique.”

Navya grinned up at him.  “I know it doesn’t look like much now, but watch this.”  She placed one of her hands against the cracked brick facade.

Roman’s eyes widened as he staggered back.  “Holy...”

The black spray paint moved across the fractured wall, twisting and writhing like a living animal as more and more colors blossomed from it.  The broken, black crown was repaired and began to glow a bright gold as wildflowers blossomed from its tips. In the background, garish red brick was overtaken by a navy sky, interrupted by the curling tendrils of the universe.

Navya ducked down and nabbed a can of red and a can of white paint.  Hooking the neck of her oversized hoodie over her mouth, she wielded the cans, one in each hand, to create a blur, streaking through the endless galaxy.

She stepped back and all of it began to undo itself.

“It’s kinda like stop-motion animation,”  She explained as Roman gaped at the paint, retreating back into the once-again broken crown.  “I’ve got to work frame-by-frame.” She smiled at the wall fondly. “I’ve been working on this one for just about four weeks now, but I think it’s done.”

“That is magnificent!”  Roman exclaimed, leaning closer to examine the mural as it faded away.

Every single petal of the flowers was rendered in excruciating detail, giving the impression of depth as they swayed slightly in an imaginary breeze.  Nebulas and galaxies pulsed and swarmed like a flight of multi-colored fireflies. The red-and-white streak was stationary for one moment, then moved to another side of the mural almost instantly.  When it paused again, Roman realized with a start that it was him.

Navya spritzed her hand with the white paint and pressed it against the decrepit wall.  A pearly handprint was left in its wake, and she gestured to it with a tilt of her head.  “Go on.”

Roman curiously reached forward and pressed his fingertips against the handprint.  To his surprise, it was already dry.

The paint awoke at his touch, flowers blooming, crown shining, endless galaxy growing, and red-and-white streak blurring across the navy sky.

“You do realize that I can’t fly, right?”  He smiled at her as she zipped up her black duffle, slinging it over her shoulder.  Behind them, the paint retreated into its resting state once more.

She shrugged.  “Artistic licence.  Besides, every hero deserves to be recognized.”  She gazed reverently at the broken black crown.

Roman suddenly registered why the grafiti had struck him like lightning the first time he saw it.  “It’s his mark, isn’t it?” The starving hollowness in his chest started gnawing with fevor, increasing the ever-widening chasm hiding behind his ribs.  “The Savior.”

Navya flushed, ducking her head.  “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know that’s weird and you’re probably kinda mad at me now, but I’m actually a fan?  Of his? A bunch of people are?” Her hands started to nervously flutter. “Oh man that sounds so incriminating and you’re his nemesis but like I am really a fan of you both because you’re you and hesayssomeprettylegitstuffandithinkitneedsmoreattentionohgodI’msosorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”  Roman held up a placating hand as he chewed on his bottom lip, weighing his next words carefully.  “I am as well, actually. A… fan.”

Navya peered up at him from behind her curtain of thick, dark hair.  “Really?”

“Well, I obviously don’t condone robbing banks and blowing up statues of people as gorgeous as I-”  He shot Navya a grin, and she giggled, tension slowly ebbing from her stance. “But, yeah.” The air felt thicker.  Roman swallowed around the sudden tightness in his throat. “He’s pretty amazing.”

The chiming of distant bells startled them both, and Navya slung her black duffle over her shoulder, gripping the strap with both hands.  “Congratulations, by the way,” She said. “I’m sorry for dragging you away from your fianceé tonight.”

Roman had almost been able to forget about the golden band on his left hand, somehow heavier than any other object he had ever been able to lift.  “Thank you,” He said, because that’s what you do when someone congratulates you on getting engaged.

“You’re welcome,”  She said, because societal customs demanded it and because she didn’t know that Missy was… Missy.

“Will you be okay getting home?” Roman asked.

“I'll be fine,” She assuaged him, and she was.

Roman found himself, once again, useless.  He didn't feel like running, but there was no way he was going back to the penthouse.  His energy had been sapped by the gold band on his finger, dragging him to the ground, through the concrete, until he was moldering under the ground with dirt under his fingernails and worms nosing around in his ears.

So, he started walking, dragging his thousand-ton burden behind him.  His feet carried him through the streets of New Psyche without purpose.  He occasionally sped up the side of a building or flipped over a fence to avoid being seen, but for the most part, he ambled along mindlessly.  He thought that the streets looked familiar, but it wasn't until he found himself in front of a cheerful purple building that he realized where he had carried himself.  He huffed out a half-laugh. “Of course.”

Despite it being almost three in the morning, all the light in the building were turned on, streaming a warm, golden glow out into the street.  He stood, looking through the window of Bake My Day, watching Patton lean over the counter to flirt with Logan. A small smile danced on the edge of the astronomer’s lips as the baker very obviously cracked another pun, but he hid it with a bite of muffin and a snarky comment.  They looked so happy. Roman wondered why the villain wasn't with them. How much of the proposal had he seen?

No.  Roman wrenched his mind away from that particular train of thought with a brutal jerk.  He and the villain… he had put a stop to it for a reason.

Inside, Patton was giggling at something Logan had said, and he was coming around to sit beside the astronomer on the bakery's swivel stools.  They sat so close, knees gently knocking together as their voices melded into a low murmur. A tugging in Roman's chest pulled him closer to the window, but the appearance of a haggard man stopped him in his tracks.

He hardly recognized his reflection, faded out by the glassy shine of the widow and light from the bakery.  He was a mess. His face was long and drawn with shadows stamped under his eyes. His hair was mussed from running across half of Florida, and his uniform was rumpled from his impromptu sea-floor visit.  A rip from where the mugger’s bullet had pierced his uniform gaped open, and Roman realized with a sickening twist that he could see the names stamped into his skin. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet.

He saw them all.  The haggard ghost-man reflected in the glass and Logan and Patton, still sitting so close together that their knees knocked gently against each other.  A golden sparkle drew his eye, and he saw the ring on the man in the glass’s finger. Patton and Logan looked so happy.

Roman finger-combed his hair and swallowed.  He wasn't about to ruin their night. He turned away and began to trudge home.  Missy was waiting for him.

The cheerful jangling of a bell shattered his gloomy train of thought.  

“Kiddo!”  A voice called out to him.  “Where do you think you're going?”

Roman turned back to see Patton Morales, freckle-faced and grinning, holding the door open in invitation.

Kaimi groaned aloud when her mind’s eye activated, letting her know that somewhere, someone was looking at a picture of her.  Now that she was off-air, her Ability had been active less and less - not counting the times that she was in public. Besides the occasional old friend now faded into acquaintance flipping through their high school yearbook or journalism student, her Ability didn’t just go off randomly.  Unfortunately, Kaimi had far too much experience with the kind of creepy people who liked to google her photos at night.

She shuddered.

But as the image in her mind came into focus, however, she was surprised to see one cowgirl vigilante, sitting in a nondescript room and holding a piece of paper with a series of symbols on it.  Kaimi scrunched her forehead in confusion, closing her physical eyes in an attempt to get a better look. I know the usual rule is three days, blue ink read in chicken-scratch handwriting. But you can’t exactly blame a gal for wanting to see you again.  Underneath that was a sequence of numbers, which Calamity gestured at, winking at the picture of Kaimi.

Only the knowledge that the other woman couldn’t see her kept Kaimi from burying her face in her hands to hide her blush.  This was ridiculous. Kaimi was a busy woman. She didn’t have time for any distractions, what with her recently wrecking her entire life and starting up a mildly illegal newspaper.  It wasn’t as if she was lacking for a social circle. She had Logan (who was a good roommate, even if he did hog the bathroom, but an awkward friend. Were they even friends anymore? Partners? Two tragic people, forever bonded through a disaster?).  Plus, she had bonded with Patton during the riot (even if they hadn’t really talked much afterwards). Furthermore, she was sure she would befriend that Virgil Logan was always sighing about (even if they hadn’t yet met).

Her social circle was quite full, thank you very much.

Not to mention, Calamity had shot her.  That was just rude.

A scowl creasing her heated face, the reporter grabbed her phone and typed in the number.  No. She sent and resolved to leave it at that.

The vigilante physically lit up when her phone buzzed; she smirked at the picture and mouthed ‘I knew you couldn't resist me, ‘lil darlin’.  Well, that or, ‘Hi true blue prudent I like chocolate’. Kaimi wasn't that great at reading lips.

Kaimi felt a strange ping in her chest when the vigilante deflated at the message, the smirk falling from her red-painted lips.  She looked directly at Kaimi’s picture, and something inside of the journalist jumped at the intimacy of the one-sided eye contact.

Calamity held up a finger then looked away, cutting off Kaimi’s mental view of her.  The reporter waited for a moment then scolded herself for waiting then wondered why she was scolding herself; it wasn’t like she actually cared or anything.

Regardless, a small smile that took far too long to wipe from her face appeared when the other woman popped back up in her mental eye.  The vigilante was holding, of all things, a whiteboard.

You’re breaking my poor little heart here, doll, It read as Calamity fluidly twirled the marker through her fingers.

Yeah, well,  Kaimi fired back.   Forgive me for not seeing how.  You hardly know me.

The vigilante shrugged, scribbling on the board again.  You got me there, but it ain’t that loony to think I’d like to get to know ya better.  She capped the marker with a challenging eyebrow arch.

Kaimi scowled at her phone.  Why are you still using that stupid whiteboard?  Just text.

Calamity smirked as she wiped the board clean with her sleeve, uncapping the marker with her teeth in an unfairly attractive move.  It’s the iconic move, isn’t it?  She wrote, holding up the board for Kaimi to see.   Holding up signs for the girl you like.

There was that stupid ping again, as if someone had filled a syringe with adrenaline and excitement and embarrassment all at once and injected it directly into Kaimi’s bloodstream.   Can you please just leave me alone?   She typed furiously.  My life is kind of a mess right now, and I don’t need anymore ‘calamities’ to add to my disaster.  She hit send before she could rethink.

This time, the smirk didn’t return to the vigilante’s lips.  She swallowed and leaned forward, exiting out of the tab with Kaimi’s picture and cutting off the reporter’s mental view.

The disappointment welling up in Kaimi’s stomach had no place there.  She had literally just said she didn’t need anything else to add to her mess of a life.  Because she really didn’t.

That didn’t stop her heart from leaping when her phone buzzed.  First of all, I do declare that that was a solid play on words.

The message bubble in the corner wavered, as if Calamity was typing and erasing and typing again.  I’ll leave you alone if you you’re not interested, peach.  I just want to let you know I am, in case you change your mind.

Kaimi deleted the conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to erase the number.  She groaned, flopping on her back on the couch of Logan’s - and her, she reminded herself.  She lived here too, even if she only felt like an intruder - living room. Confusion and logic and daydreams warred inside of her until she had no option but to grab a heavily embroidered pillow and shriek into it.

Why had Allah deemed that she would be too gay to function?  Why?

“Kaimi?” Logan's voice startled her, and Kaimi, suddenly, was acutely aware of the face that she was lying prone on the couch, screaming into a pillow that she had pressed over her face.  Well.

“Hey, Logan.”  Her voice was muffled by the pillow still obscuring her features.

Fingers gently tapped her legs, and Kaimi swung them out of the way.  The couch dipped and squeaked as Logan’s weight settled next to her. “Might I inquire as to the nature of your… peculiar position?”

“Well, originally it was so I could scream without bugging you, but now I'm just trying to hide my shame.”  The journalist situated the pillow more firmly over her face, ignoring the way the embroidery dug uncomfortably into her cheek.

“I see.”  The astronomer's voice was colored with a hesitant amusement. “And do you intend on removing the obstruction to your respiratory pathway?”

“Nope.”  Kaimi popped the ‘p’.  “I'm committed. Let me slowly asphyxiate in peace.”

“Well, that won't do.  I can't let my… oldest friend suffocate, especially when I was going to ask her if she wanted anything from Bake My Day.”

The pause was only brief, no more than half of a second, but it was sufficient to let something heavy settle on Kaimi’s chest and refuse to get off.  She slowly removed the pillow and sat up, rubbing at the diamonds the geometric embroidery had stamped into her face. “You would've called me your best friend, once.”

This time, the pause lasted for an eternity, years and ages and eons compacted into no more than two seconds.  Logan stared at the denim of his dark blue jeans as if they held a script he had forgotten to read beforehand. “I know,” He murmured quietly.  “I would have.” He cleared his throat, wiping away his soft inflections. “That was, however, quite some time ago. Not to mention, that role is very much filled by Patton and Virgil presently.”

Kaimi snorted despite herself.  “Those two are more than that.”

Logan rolled his eyes but didn't deny it.  “I'm different than the person you knew, Kaimi.”  He deflected as darkness flashed over his face, lingering in the set of his jaw, the curl to his lips, the angle of his eyebrows.

Kaimi’s heart ached.  She reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm.  “Anyone would be,” She reassured him.

“I hardly recognize myself anymore,” He confessed quietly.  “Risk taking was always the thing you and my mother did.” He groaned, leaning back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

She laughed bitterly. “What happened to us, Logan?”

His mouth shaped into a gnarled twist.  “A burned-down house and a murder ruled as suicide.”  He shrugged her hand off. “I'll see you later.” He rose and strolled to the door.

Suddenly, she knew that she couldn't let him walk out that door like this.  “Hey, Logan,” Kaimi called.

He paused, turning around in the doorway.

“Do you…” She steeled herself.  This was Logan. It was fine. “Do you want to show me around the planetarium tomorrow?  If you want to.” She fiddled with her teal sleeve, suddenly bashful. “I've never been before, and I know how much you love it so…”

“Are you sure?” The astronomer’s ginger tone couldn't dim the happiness lighting up his face. “You've never been much one for the skies.”

The reporter shrugged and ducked her head.  “I want to spend time with you. I'd like to get back to where we were before,” She told her hands, not daring to look up.  “I know you say you're different, but I am too. I mean, I was just kinda flirting with the girl who shot me!”

“...What?”

Kaimi laughed helplessly.  “Long story.” She dared to peak up at him through her eyelashes.  “So?”

“I don't know if we can ever get back to where we were,” He said, fingering at the groove in the doorway.

“Oh,”  She deflated.

“However,”  He amended. “Maybe we can get somewhere better than here.”

“Somewhere better,” She repeated, a small, hesitant smile gracing her face. “I think I'd like that.”

An equally hesitant, equally small smile curled Logan's lips.  “I quite concur.” Then, he was gone.

Kaimi rose from her seat, suddenly unable to sit still.  She roamed on sock-padded feet into Logan’s kitchen, poking through his shelves of jelly, looking at the notes of swirling, looping cursive attached to the side of the refrigerator, dancing her fingers along the dark oak cabinets.  She wandered back into the living room, sighing at his tomes of dry scientific research, smiling at his Agatha Christie novels, wrinkling her nose at the archaic tape recorder that sat in a dusty corner.

Everything was Logan.  Everything was someone she used to know.  

She went into the bathroom, feeling more an intruder than ever as she gazed at his toothpaste and toothbrush, lined up in perfect parallel lines on the countertop.

She lived here, but this wasn’t her home.  She was an invader Logan had never asked for.  No one had asked for her, but she was in the story regardless.

She was walking to her room when she saw it.  Logan had left the door to his room cracked open ever-so-slightly.  Through the gap, she could just see the pictures taped to the wood paneling on the hutch of his desk.  One was a picture of Logan, Patton, and someone that must’ve been Virgil. Patton was beaming his sunny grin at the camera, arms wrapped around the men on either side of him.  Virgil had been caught mid eyeroll, looking somewhere out of frame; a small, pleased smile danced on his lips, and he was holding Patton, his arm over the baker’s shoulders to lace his fingers together with Logan’s.  Logan wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he was gazing at Patton and Virgil with such tenderness, Kaimi felt as if she had no right to even be near the picture.

She was turning away to escape to the guest room when she suddenly realized who was in the other picture.  Professor Abbott, an amazonian of a woman with long, messy curls and striking green eyes, was smiling at the student reaching out to shake her hand as she handed the cap-and-gown-and-hijab clad student a ribbon-bound scroll.  In the background, fuzzy but still discernible, Logan was applauding with a blinding grin on his face as he watched his mother hand Kaimi her diploma.

Kaimi clamped a hand over her mouth.  That was her. That was her official graduation photo.  That was her graduation photo, curled with an age indicating it had been in its present position for a while, taped onto Logan’s desk.

Heat pricked at the corner of her eyes even as a smile broke out on her face.

Maybe they really could get somewhere better.

Kaimi left and flopped onto her bed, a warm glow on her chest curling up and purring like a cat. She flipped onto her side and considered her phone, nibbling on her bottom lip.

It would be a lie to say that Calamity was conventally beautiful.  She barely bordered on pretty, if one was being painfully honest. There was something about the sharpness of her features - far from conventionally attractive - that seemed to ward off any comparison to a sunset or the sparkling stars or the ocean.  She cut a strong, boxy figure, composed of corded muscle and sinew.

She was hardly charming either.  Sure she had the whole stupidly attractive southern belle persona going for her, but something (being shot ) made Kaimi think she was less ladylike than she would have others believe.  

Striking seemed a better term.  She was striking in the way that, once Kaimi had interacted with her once, it was hard for the reporter to get her out of her head.  (Although, to be fair, the fact that the vigilante kept abusing Kaimi’s ability to send messages and waggle her eyebrows may have had something to do with that.)  She was striking in the same way that a match was striking: mesmerizing and dangerous. She was an unpleasant truth, one that opened your eyes and made you do stupid things like quit your job on live television.

But the Truth was always the one thing that Kaimi adored.

Taking risks was always the thing you and my mother did.  

Logan was right, they had changed.  She missed the idealist girl who believed that everything would be okay, as long as you told the truth.  She missed the snarky boy who had known who he was and what his future held.

But, even if she was a different woman now, she didn’t have to forget the girl she used to be.

Hey, Kaimi typed and sent before she could stop herself.   Do you like Chinese takeout?

“U-umm…”

At the same time that Roman was skidding to a stop at the entrance of a dingy alley, Patton looked up to see a short kiddo in a blue striped polo and a clunky arm cast with ‘CONNOR’ scrawled across its entirety.

At least, he was pretty sure he did.

The kiddo’s outline was slightly wavy, blurred as if Patton was looking at him through a frosted window. When Patton tried to focus on him, he only managed to go cross-eyed and start the beginnings of a headache.

“Hey, kiddo!”  He tried focusing his eyes through him, finding that to work much better.  “How can I Bake your day?”

“U-umm…  Can I get…”  He stuttered his way through and order of raspberry macaroons and a double chocolate chip muffin as Patton tried not to make it too obvious he could see through his customer’s frame.

“Coming right up!”  Patton chirped, ducking underneath the counter with a bag.  When he came up, however, the customer was gone. “Kiddo? Where’d you go?”

“I-I’m right here.”  A hazy outline in the middle of the air shifted, and Patton realized that the other man hadn’t even moved.  He was entirely transparent, only a slight bending of light around his edges giving away his location. “Sorry, it’s doing it again, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”  Patton’s mouth twisted sympathetically as he held out the bag, watching with mild interest as it seemingly floated in space.

“My Ability acts up when I get anxious,”  A disembodied voice stammered. “It’s actually pretty awful.”  Several crumpled dollar bills materialized and placed themselves on the counter.  “T-thanks.”

“You got it!”  Patton said, smiling in the voice’s general direction.  The door swung open, seemingly by itself, the bell jingled cheerfully, and a white paper bag stamped with Bake My Day’s logo floated down the street.

“Poor kiddo,”  The baker murmured to himself, grabbing a towel from its hook behind the counter and wiping down the already-spotless display case.

His eyes drifted up when the bell rang again, and a grin leapt onto his face.  “Logan!”

“Patton.”  The astronomer nodded cordially.  “I was please to hear of you having another three-am special night.”

“Half-off for all struggling college students, night owls, and insomniacs.”  Patton winked, gesturing to a stool. “Now, which category would you fit into?”  He leaned over the counter as Logan sat down.

“I escaped college long ago, so that wouldn’t be it.”  Logan played along, tapping a long finger against his chin in mock-seriousness.  “I am perfectly capable of maintaining a regular circadian rhythm, so that’s out of the running as well.”  He sighed. “And I’m afraid I’ve always been a morning person as well, so, none of the above, I suppose. I’ll just have to pay full price.”

Patton snorted, ducking down for a lemon poppy-seed muffin.  “You’ll just have to pay by putting up with my puns-” He slid a pastry-bearing plate across the counter.   “-muffin.”

“I’d rather throw a twenty at you and run, if it’s all the same.”  Logan bit into the treat, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

Patton gasped, mock-scandalized.  “Logan Abbott! I am not that kind of a person.”

Logan's eyes snapped open.  “Patton… what exactly do you mean by that?”

Patton giggled, coming around the counter to sit on the swivel-stool next to the astronomer, sitting so close that their knees gently knocked together.  “The type that would accept a twenty without giving proper change, of course.”

“Oh.”  Logan's shoulders relaxed as he took another bite of muffin.  Patton's innocence was still preserved.

“Also, a stripper.”

Logan choked on his bite of muffin.

Patton began to laugh, and, after a moment, Logan had no choice but to join him.

“So.”  Patton leaned forward, eyes eager and bright.  “How was the gala? Did you two have fun?” He paused, a small crease forming in the center of his freckled forehead.  “Where is Virge anyway?”

Logan grimaced.  “Do you have any Crofters thumbprint cookies?”

Patton’s eyes widened.  “That bad?”

“Suffice to say they will be direly needed.”  Logan launched into a retelling of the night, recounting the splendor of the plaza, The Prince’s speech, their banter.

If Patton’s cheeks flushed, and he shifted slightly in his chair when Logan described his and Roman’s salsa, then that was no one’s business but his own.

If Logan deepened his voice and leaned closer to Patton to elicit such a reaction, then that was also no one’s business but his own.

Logan conveyed his confusion at Virgil’s abrupt dance with Missy and subsequent disappearance, unconsciously tugging at a lock of his curly hair, but it wasn’t until Virgil was whisked away to take a call and Missy proposed to Roman that his perplexion shifted to distress.  “Virgil appeared absolutely dreadful afterwards,” Logan confided, nabbing a cookie from the plate the baker had procured. “He was clutching his hand so tightly his nails had broken through the skin.”

Patton gasped, a hand flying to his mouth.  “Is he okay?”

“I have no idea.”  Logan shook his head mournfully.  “He absquatulated before I could tend to him.”

“I don’t care if he did ab exercises or not!”  Patton cried. “Why didn’t you see if he was okay?”

“I know, I should have.  It is, however, at times the wisest course of action to allow Virgil to… chill when he is in one of his more unpleasant dispositions.”  Logan laid the hand not preoccupied with a Crofters cookie on Patton’s knee and rubbed it soothingly. “Rest assured that he is fine.” He assuaged Patton as, a few blocks down the street, the villain was rewiring his machine, breaking into Logan’s office for employee records, and plotting how to kidnap a man.

Patton heaved a sigh, putting his hand on top of the astronomer's.  “I know.” He laced his fingers through Logan’s; the astronomer traced lazy circles on the back of the baker’s hand with his thumb in a gesture as familiar breathing.  “I just can’t help but worry.”

Logan internally grimaced.  He was not renowned as a comforting presence, but he’d try for Patton.  He would do anything for Patton. “That worry is illogical.” He finally decided to go with what he knew best: statistics.  “Chances are that Virgil is safely at home, in bed, sleeping-”

A singular raised eyebrow from Patton cut him off.

“Chances are that Virgil is safely at home, in bed, scrolling through Tumblr.”  Logan amended. “Chances are very unlikely - at near to zero percent - that he is galavanting around town.  Chances are also very unlikely - at 1 in 3,748,067 - that he is presently being eaten by a shark.”

A startled laugh fell from Patton’s lips.  “Is that right?”

Logan pushed his nose in the air proudly.  “Indubitably.”

A tentative smile broke out on the baker’s face.  “What else could he be doing?”

“Well.”  Logan shifted on his stool, knocking their knees together.  “He could be consuming some of the average of one-thousand five-hundred pounds of food an individual human eats each year.”

Patton hummed.  “Do you think he’s eating some maize, or is that too corny?”

Logan frowned slightly.  “Well, considering that maize was a food traditionally farmed in classic mesoamerica and has since evolved into corn-”  He cut himself off and narrowed his eyes at Patton, who was trying and failing to hold in his giggles. “That was a pun, wasn’t it.”

“You got me!”  Patton burst out into his full belly laugh, and, well, Logan couldn’t quite bring himself to begrudge something that brought the baker so much joy.

Even if it was a crime against the laws of conventional English.

Patton calmed and smiled at the astronomer’s exasperated expression.  He leaned forward, and Logan felt his breath hitch. “What are the chances he’s kissing someone?”

Logan coughed into a closed fist, feeling a hot flush tinge his ears red.  “At any given moment, an estimated fifty-eight million people are kissing.”  

Patton’s hands found his, and he linked their fingers together.

Very swavely and with complete control over his vocal cords, Logan spoke up.  “How would you like to make it fifty-eight million and two?” Except it just came out as a strangled squeak as Patton leaned even closer.

“Hey, Lo.”  The baker’s blue eyes drifted past him.  “Not trying to alarm you, but there is a superhero looking longingly through our window.”

“What?”  Logan spluttered, whirling around on the stool to confirm that, yes, there was one Roman Garcia trudging away from the bakery with hunched shoulders.

“Oh no, he’s leaving!”  Patton leapt from his stool, cardigan fluttering behind him, and rushed to the door.  “Kiddo!” He called out into the warm Florida night, holding open the door invitingly.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

Logan made a herculean effort to wipe the scowl off of his face.  So close.

“I wasn’t…”  The hero’s voice tentatively trickled in from outside as Logan joined Patton by the door.  “I wasn’t entirely certain I’d be welcome.”

“Preposterous,”  Logan scoffed. “This is a public establishment presently operating within business hours.  Why on earth would you be denied admittance?”

“Not what he meant, Lo,”  Patton softly corrected.

“Ah.”  Logan blinked, ignoring the flush that crept up the nape of his neck.  “If you were referring to the social aspect of companionship, you have adequately endeared yourself to Patton.”  He cleared his throat as The Prince approached. “As well as proved yourself an… entertaining conversationalist, Roman.”

For some reason, the sound of his name seemed to jolt Roman back into action.  “Thanks.” He slunk in through the door, looking around the bakery with guarded eyes.

Logan had to physically reign in his shock; the hero looked absolutely haggard.

His uniform was rumpled with a tear in the material over his chest, revealing currently indiscernible words tattooed over his heart.  His eyes were haunted, and his hands were ceaselessly tapping against his sides.  His face was long and drawn, as if someone had rendered the celebrity in charcoal, forgetting to sketch in the sparkle in his eye, the wide flash of his grin, the easy, handsome charm of his features.

“Here.”  Patton, with Dad Mode fully equipped, herded the hero over to a stool by the countertop.  “Do you need anything, kiddo?” He cast a concerned glance over the hero. “You look like you might want a cup of tea.”

Roman shook his head determinedly.  “No, I… I don’t mean to intrude. I was just on patrol and wandered by.”

Patton’s mouth twisted slightly as he rounded the counter, trailing his fingers over the slick glass, but his cheerful beam was back in place when he faced the hero again.  “Well-” He pushed the plate of Crofters thumbprint cookies towards his guest, ignoring Logan’s indignant cry. “Have a cookie at least.”

Roman hesitantly took one.  “If you insist.”

Logan threw himself down in the seat next to the hero, eyeing the plate with thinly veiled envy.  “He does.”

Roman caught the side of his glare.  “Will you take some too? I can’t eat all of these.”

A small smirk slid across the astronomer's face.  “I believe I shall.”

Roman took a bite, and his immediately eyes widened to the size of saucers.  “Holy-” He cut himself off, shoveling another cookie into his mouth. “What is this God’s ambrosia?”

Logan, also trying to cram more cookies in his mouth than physically possible, responded.  “Thumbprint cookies…” He stopped and swallowed. “With Crofters Jam.”

“Crofter’s Jam…”  Roman repeated reverently.  “Truly a gift to a cruel and undeserving universe.”

Logan nodded sagely.  “No act of human decency has ever, nor will ever, justify this incredible gift Canada has given us in the form of Crofters Jam.”  Except, with the three or four cookies piled in his mouth, it sounded more like ‘nuhacvhufmad cchavnwah vifisicreha ba bafitanadaasiv ‘ofters Jam.’

Patton vaguely wondered how they managed to make ‘Crofters Jam’ sound like it should be capitalized.

“I’ve died.”  Roman proclaimed grandly.  “I have transcended this mere mortal plane and have been been raptured to a heavenly existence.”  He swooned in Patton’s general direction. “You have mastered the art of producing pure joy in the form of pastries, Duff Golden man.”

His gaze landed on Patton’s nails, lacquered with a pale blue.  “And your nails are absolutely fabulous.”

Patton grinned, shimmying his shoulders.  “I can do yours if you want, kiddo!” He ducked under his counter and procured a small, purple zip-up bag.

Roman spared a moment to wonder how the baker actually managed to fit so much stuff behind that counter.  It was like Mary Poppins’s bag or the TARDIS. The thought flew out of his head, however, as Patton reached for his hand.

“No, no, it’s fine!”  Roman responded hastily, moving his hands out of the baker’s range and tucking them behind his back awkwardly as the discomfort Crofters had managed to draw away from him came slamming back.  “I really shouldn’t.”

Patton tilted his head, bangs gently flopping over his forehead.  “You sure, kiddo? I think you’d look great with these!” He beamed as he dug through his bag, presenting Roman with a sparkling gold and a brilliant red bottle.

Woah, those were pretty.  “It’ll be fine,”  Desire tempted Roman.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well…”  Roman hesitantly put his hands back on the countertop.  “If you really don’t mind.”

“Not at all!”  Patton beamed, unscrewing the red bottle and gently adjusting Roman’s hand flat on the countertop.  “We just need to get you somecute -icles.”

Logan took a precious moment away from his Crofters cookies to groan.

Roman laughed warmly at the both the pun and the exasperated eyes the astronomer sent his way.  It felt nice to be the person someone made eye contact with when something ridiculous had happened.  Foreign, strange, and new, but nice.

He sent Logan a one-shouldered ‘what can you do?’ type of shrug, careful not to jostle Patton, who had finished his first and third fingers and was painting his index finger with a single-minded determination.

The astronomer returned his shrug with a half-quirked smile and slid the plate of cookies, now barren except for one, over to the hero.  “Want it?”

Roman’s stomach and taste buds both clamored for the treat, but he denied them.  “Nah, you go ahead.”

Logan picked up the cookie, considering it with hungry eyes for a moment - he vaguely reminded Roman of those ‘get you a man who looks at you like whoever looks at whatever’ memes - before gently creasing it into two halves.  “I’ll concede to share it with you.”

Joy crashed into Roman’s chest like a bullet train.  “Sure,” He agreed, taking the cookie and firmly telling himself to only eat in small bites to savor it.  “That works.”

At that moment, munching on a cookie filled with ambrosia of the gods and having his nails painted a brilliant red and gold, Roman could only think of one thing (person, really) that would make it better.

“Hey,”  Patton piped up, carefully bathing Roman's thumbnail in shimmering gold.  “Why don’t you ever see hippopotamuses hiding in trees?”

Logan frowned thoughtfully.  “Likely due to the fact that they lack the necessary faculties to mount the tree in the first place, not to mention the significant burden their girth would prove to be as-”

“Because they’re so good at it!”  Patton giggled.

Logan's groan warred with Roman's chortle.

“Why did the scarecrow get an award?”  Roman asked the baker, who immediately turned starry-eyed.

“Why?”  He asked eagerly, bouncing slightly on his toes.

“Because he was out-standing in his field!”  Roman grinned.

The baker laughed, and Roman felt as if he would get a cavity from the pure sweetness of the sound.  Patton’s laugh was a comforting, kind thing that left you no choice but to smile along.

“Outstanding in his field?”  Logan muttered to himself, a perplexed crease forming in the middle of his forehead.  “Ah, I see. The verbal play on the academic field and agricultural field leave a humorous ambiguity as to which is being addressed.”

The astronomer cleared his throat, deciding to partake in the merriment.  “There are 10 types of people in the world,” He announced as Patton and Roman turned to him with curious eyes.  “Those who understand binary, and those who do not.”

The other two swapped confused glances.  They were obviously the latter sector of the population.

“...ha?”  Patton said hesitantly.

“What the heck are you talking about, Java Scripted?”  Roman snarked.

“So you comprehend basic coding languages but not the basis of said languages?”  Logan threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know why I even try.”

“C’mon, Lo,”  Patton wheeled.  “I’m sure it was hilarious.”

“For a nerd joke,”  Roman chortled.

Logan’s narrowed eyes and pointing finger were tempered by the smile he kept fighting to keep off of his face.  “You two are secretly in cahoots, aren’t you?”

“The only one here with cooties,”  Patton quipped as he screwed in the cap for the red nail polish, Roman’s hands complete.  “Is you.”

Roman laughed, Patton giggled, and Logan’s eyeroll wasn’t as caustic as it could’ve been.

“What do you think, kiddo?”  Patton gestured to Roman’s nails with a grin.

The hero held them out admiringly, but he found his gaze drifting to the freckle-faced baker standing before him and the snarky astronomer at his side.  “Perfect,” He said softly. “Absolutely perfect.”

The three of them chatted and laughed and snarked into the early morning.  It was so strange to Roman how at-ease he felt. How perfectly he seemed to fit as he exchanged barbs with Logan and puns with Patton.  He and the astronomer challenged each other with obscure history facts - “Nintendo predates Sherlock Holmes.” “Yeah, well, France’s last use of the guillotine was in the same year that the first Star Wars movie came out.” - and he couldn’t help but adore the gooder-than-gold baker’s sparkling personality.

He kept shocking himself with how easily he could laugh here.  He burst out into another fit of snorts, but when he glanced out of the window, where the sky was slowly turning to a gold-streaked soft lilac, his laughter cut off as abruptly as it had began.  “What time is it?” He demanded, suddenly frantic.

Logan glanced at his watch.  “About seven in the morning.”

The hero swore, ran an agitated hand through his hair, and swore again.  “I… I’ve got to go.” He began to pick at the red and sparkling gold nail polish on his hands with a single minded determination.  It slowly flaked away. “How do… how do you get this off?” He cried, vigorously scraping at his hand.

Patton placed a gentle hand on his arm, stilling him with a single touch.  “Is something bothering you, kiddo?”

Roman shook his head determinedly, swallowing down the lump in his throat.  “I’ve got to go,” He repeated firmly before taking a deep breath and echoing himself softly, almost mournfully.  “I’ve got to go.”

“Forgive me, Roman.”  Logan exchanged a glance with Patton.  “But I fail to see what your nail polish has to do with this.”

Roman’s shoulders hunched.  The other two marveled at how easily the giant could shrink.  “It’s not masculine.” Roman said flatly, all traces of his earlier comfort gone.  “The press will have a field day if they see me like this.”

“But, kiddo.”  Patton frowned, creasing his freckled face.  “If you’re just going home - that is where you’re going, right?”

Roman nodded, still staring at the floor like he could read the ancient language of checkerboard if he focused long enough.

“Why does it matter if you’re just going home?”

Roman clenched his hand, and the golden ring weighing he had almost managed to forget about pressed into his skin.  “Because it does. Because I’ve got an image to maintain. Because… Missy won’t like it.”

“Ah,”  Logan’s cool tone didn’t betray the alarm bells ringing in his head.  “Your fiancée.”

Heat prickled at the corners of Roman’s eyes.  “Right.”

“Hey, kiddo,”  Patton began gently.  “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here, but you don’t exactly seem… thrilled right now.”

Smile. The world is watching.

Roman never had liked lying, but after sometime, it was simply easier.  He and deceit were intimately acquainted now. “Well, why wouldn’t I be?”  The Prince boomed joyously, shrugging off the baker’s hand to strike a pose.  “I fear I am merely fatigued by the late hour and my heroic exploits. Did I tell you that I stopped a mugger on the way over here?  It’s quite the riveting tale. There I was, staring down the fiend to defend a young maiden when-”

“Roman.”  Patton’s soft voice cut through the hero’s bluster like a hot knife through butter.  “You don’t always have to pretend that everything’s okay.” He smiled sadly. “Trust me, it never turns out well.”

Roman could see every detail of the baker’s face.  Every fine hair, every cell in his light eyelashes, every color in his kind blue eyes.  He could see everything, but it was the look the baker gave him that broke the hero; it was a look that saw Roman and accepted him anyway.

“It’s not,”  Roman blurted out.  “It’s not okay; nothing is okay!”  He cried, waving a hand in the air.  “I didn’t notice until I started spending time with Him-”  He didn’t need to clarify who ‘him’ was; they all knew. “-that the way Missy treats me sometimes is… it’s not okay!  She wants to know where I am every single second of the day. I didn’t bring my phone with me because I’m pretty sure she has a tracker on it.  And she’s the one who handles all of my PR stuff because she declared that she was my handler and everyone just went with it! My image is everything, and she’s the one who determines what everyone sees.  People don’t know my name, did you know that? No one knows who Roman Garcia is! No one knows that I’m Cuban or that I love theatre or than my grandparents were immigrants or that I like poetry or what I had to put up with as a kid or anything about me!  Because Missy controls how I dress and what I eat and what I say and what interviews I do and what reporters I talk to and… everything! She won’t even let me wear makeup!

“But then sometimes, she’s wonderful.  She promises me that she’s changed and that she loves me and that she’d never do anything to hurt me.  And every single time I fall for it. She can’t hurt me; I’m invincible, right? So we watch Disney movies together and go online shopping and dance, but every single time she starts doing it again.  

“And then I met Him and it was completely different!  Because with Missy it’s like every single conversation is a test that I didn’t study for, and I keep failing them.  It’s just easier to not say anything at all. But with him it’s just so… easy. We can talk about absolutely anything and trade insults and nicknames and it’s not awkward or strange, even though it should be!  And he doesn’t belittle me when I ask about something. I asked what he was working on one time, and he explained everything to me. And he didn’t even call me dumb when I didn’t know what a spring was! At first, I thought he was awful, but I was completely wrong about him.  He does so much to help the Unabled, and he’s so smart and so snarky and so clever, and I just… I want to be near him. All the time. I want to talk to him and laugh with him and everything, but I can’t because I’m engaged to Missy. I’m the good guy, and he’s the-” Roman cut himself off, eyeing Logan and Patton warily.  “Did he tell you how we met?”

They both replied in the negative.

Roman nodded slowly.  “It’s not my secret to tell, but… you might want to ask him.”

Silence stretched in the air for a long moment.

“Roman,”  Logan softly broke the quiet.  “It sounds to me as if you are describing a very… negative home environment.”

The blood drained from Roman’s face as he realized he had just spilled his guts to two virtual strangers.  “N-no!” He laughed. “I was just being dramatic. Missy is wonderful. I love her very much. We’ve been together for so long, you know.”

“Kiddo, you don’t have to lie to us.”

Roman paused, frozen, before speaking so quietly that they had to lean forward to hear him.  “It’s just easier to say I love her.”

Logan looked at him for a long moment, but it was Patton who spoke.  “Do you love him?”

Panic jumped inside of Roman’s chest.  “NO!” He cried vehemently before backtracking.  “Well, maybe? I don’t know.” He groaned, running a hand down his face.  “I don’t know if I even know what love feels like.”

The truth of his own words hit him like a punch to the jaw.  How pathetic was he? He couldn’t even say that he knew what love felt like.  A coldness seized his chest, and he was painfully aware of the hitching of his breath, the bile rising in his throat, the overbearing, overwhelming hollowness in his chest.  His hand gripped his thigh under the marble countertop, squeezing until his entire arm shook with the effort.

What kind of a freak was he?

Patton stepped out from behind the counter and gently grabbed the hero’s hand as he settled into the stool next to him.  “It’s really not that difficult, kiddo.” He waited until Roman was looking at him to continue, softly squeezing the hero’s hand in reassurance.  “People always say that love is when you see someone and the whole rest of the world just seems to fall away. It’s when nothing else matters, or when you don’t want anything else to matter but that person.  They say that it’s the rush of butterflies and the spark between you.”

The astronomer took the stool on the other side of Roman, and Patton found his gaze drifting, as it always did, to his shining star.

“But really, it’s not about that at all.  The rest of the world is always going to be there, and Love is when you find someone - or some people - who you want to take on the world with.  Love is when you can see past what others see about someone, and love is when you know who they are. Love is when you stop trying to put them into a box, when you realize just how fantastic and complicated and wonderful they are.”  Patton looked into Logan’s eyes. “Love is wanting nothing more than to want to see their smile.”

Logan smiled, and Patton felt his heart soar.  

“Love is difficult, and messy, and it’s not always easy, but love is when you make that decision to keep on loving, no matter what.  Because even if they mess up, or hide things from you, or do something you don’t agree with, you can forgive them, and they’ll forgive you when you do something silly.”  Patton suddenly realized that there was water rimming his eyes, and he pulled his hand away from Roman’s, laughing. “It’s when they make you feel like everything is going to be okay.”

Logan silently offered Patton his handkerchief, and Patton took it gratefully.

Oh, Roman thought.   So that’s what love looks like.

“Love is…”  Logan began then faltered as they both turned their faces towards him.  “It’s when you’d do anything for them.” He murmured softly, looking into Patton’s eyes.  “Anything at all.”

The look the other two were sharing was so tender, so intimate, that Roman felt as if he was intruding on a private moment.  He stared at his hands, resting on the cool marble countertop, for a moment before speaking. “I don’t know if I love him.” He confessed, afraid to look up and see their reactions.  “But I… I don’t think I love Missy.”

His eyes blurred, but through his fogged vision, he saw Logan, holding out a white handkerchief.  He laughed despite himself as he took it. “Just how many of those things do you have, Catcher of the Eye?”

Logan smiled.  “An adequate number.”

Roman wiped his eyes and let the handkerchief fall to the counter.  He watched it slowly flutter down, and heard the almost infinitesimal sound it made as it touched slick, polished marble.  “I don’t want to go home.” He confessed quietly.

Patton clasped a hand on his shoulder.  “There’s a couch in here for a reason, buddy.”

Roman let out a small, watery smile.  “Thanks.”

“Although.”  Patton’s blue eyes were suddenly blazing as his fingers dug into the hero’s shoulder.  “If you dare harm my sweet and sour shadowling, they'll never find your body.”

Somehow, even the knowledge that Roman was The Prince, a six-foot, five-inch literally invincible superhero who had stared down the fearsome Dragon Witch and that this was a five-foot, three-inch, chubby baker could temper Roman's terror.  “Okay,” He squeaked out.

Patton’s grip relaxed just as suddenly as it tightened.  “Okie-dokie then, good talk!” He exclaimed, slipping away to rummage around in the display case and pulling out a pink donut.  “Here, have a treat.”

Roman shot a wide-eyed glance at Logan, who appeared rather bemused but unperturbed.  “Is he always like this?” The hero risked muttering.

“No,”  The astronomer responded.  “Usually he's much more protective.”

“You're not going to poison me, are you?”  Roman joked, picking up the strawberry-glazed treat and sniffing it.

Patton just giggled.  “Like that would actually work.”

It would, actually, but Roman elected to keep that information safely out of the fearsome baker’s hands.

“I have a sneaky suspicion,”  Roman announced around a mouthful of strawberry heaven.  “That you’re fattening me up for something.”

Patton winked.  “More room for snuggles.”

Roman gasped dramatically.  “Your true, villainous schemes come to light!”

“Ah, yes,”  Logan deadpanned.  “Patton was secretly the bad guy this whole time.”  He paused dramatically. “Or was it I, the buyer of the Crofters?”

“Conspiracy!”  Roman cried with a grin.  “I knew you two were too perfect to be real.”

Some time after that, they all found their eyes and limbs growing heavy with sleep.

“I wish I could get paid to sleep.”  Patton yawned, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth.  “It’d really be a…”

Logan groaned preemptively, hitting his head on the counter with a thunk.

“Dream job.”

“Nice one,”  Roman murmured, slumping down on the couch he was sprawled out on.  It barely fit him, but in his present state, he could sleep on anything vaguely horizontal and not made entirely of wasps.

“No it wasn’t.”  Logan groaned into the counter, slurring his words.  “It wasn’t at all.”

Roman fell asleep to the sound of Logan and Patton’s playful bickering with a smile on his face.

“Morning, sleepy head!”  A heavenly smell and an angelic voice gently encouraged Roman's return to consciousness.

The hero groaned, rolling over despite the poor couch’s squeaks of protest.  “Five more minutes.”

The heavenly smell drifted closer.  “You sure about that?”

Roman’s eyes snapped open.  “Maple-glazed donut?”

The baker grinned.  “Maple-glazed donut.”

Roman took the treat and moaned around a mouthful of pastry as he sat up.  “You are not human.” He declared. “You are an absolute angel who was cast out because your baking is too sinfully good.”

“I second the motion.”  Roman followed the gravily morning voice to find Logan sitting by the counter, hair rumpled and eyes bleary.  The hero’s gaze drifted back to the baker to find him in a similar state.

“You both stayed the night?”  He asked softly.

Logan scoffed.  “The prospect of simply leaving you struck us as preposterous.”

Roman rose and padded on bare feet to the counter, taking the stool next to the astronomer.  “Thanks.”

Patton cooed.  “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

It was at that moment, looking at Patton and Logan, that Roman realized that this was the longest in the past fifteen years he hadn’t had to use a fake smile.

And then an explosion roared through the air.

Roman threw himself over Patton and Logan, knocking them to the ground and shielding them with his body.  The overhead lights flickered, and the hanging light fixtures swayed wildly, throwing shadows across the cheerful bakery.  He waited, tense, but nothing further came.

He fluidly pulled himself to his feet and looked down at Patton and Logan, frozen with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.  “Are you two okay?”

Logan recovered first.  “Yes,” He coughed into his fist and sat up, bushing off his shirt as he tried not to think about being pinned to the ground by Roman.  “I’m quite alright.”

Patton, undergoing a similar predicament, squeaked out another confirmation of well-being.

Roman nodded, looking out of the window anxiously.  “What was that?”

“I don’t know.”  Patton stood and offered Logan a hand up.

Roman nodded, tapping his foot against the floor restlessly.

“You’re going to go investigate, aren’t you?”  Logan, now standing, quietly asked.

Roman shrugged.  “Kinda in my job description.”

Patton took two steps forward and threw his arms around Roman’s torso.  “Be safe, okay?” He pleaded softly.

Roman froze for a moment, startled, before carefully wrapping his arms around the baker.  “Don’t worry about it, you little puffball.” He chuckled, a low, rumbling noise that reverberated through Patton’s chest.  “Invincible hero, remember?”

Patton smiled wryly.  “Worrying is kinda in my job description.”  He hesitated for half of a moment before lifting himself on his tiptoes and kissing the hero’s cheek.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Roman, face flaming red, found his bewildered gaze landing on a rather unperturbed astronomer.

Logan arched an unimpressed eyebrow.  “I’m not kissing you.”

Roman scoffed, gently disentangling himself from the baker.  “You should be so lucky, Oliver Twisted.”

“Trust me-”  Patton winked. “-you would be.”

Then, the hero left.  Then, he raced through sand-strewn streets, not knowing that the villain was trailing behind him, skipping across rooftops and sliding down the sides of cracked concrete buildings.  Then, he confronted a different villain, one in a line of threats he had defeated. Then, he found sand, sand everywhere, grating against the inside of his throat, the flesh of his ears, the softness of his eyes.  Then, he fell asleep as his villain gasped in horror and the Sandman grinned wickedly, lounging on a golden throne.

Patton and Logan, of course, knew none of this.

“He’ll be fine, Patton,”  Logan unwittingly lied. “He’s a hero.  This is just a regular Monday for him.”

“I know,”  Patton wittingly lied, uncomfortably grabbing his elbow with his opposite hand and rubbing his arm as his shoulders crept towards his ears.  “I just worry.”

“Logically speaking, Patton, there’s nothing that worrying can do that will in any shape or form affect the outcome of his… encounter.”

“I know,”  The baker repeated.  “I just can’t help it.  I’ve got a feeling like something bad is about to happen.”

The bell above the shop’s door janged merily, and Patton snapped into cheerful-baker mode before it even stopped ringing.

“Hello!”  He chirped.  “Welcome! Now, how can I bake your days, officers?”

Two grim-faced men in police uniforms filed into the bakery.  Liander , the nametag on one proclaimed.   Tawn, the nametag on the other disagreed.  It struck Logan as odd that they were here, at a bakery, when there had literally just been an explosion downtown.  Had the crisis really been resolved so quickly?

To Logan and Patton’s surprise, the policemen ignored the baker’s question.  “Are you aware of the whereabouts of a Mr. Logan Abbott?” The one called Tawn asked.

“That’s me.”  Logan interjected stiffly, rising from his stool to stand between them and Patton.  “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

Liander looked at Tawn and jerked his head in Logan's direction. “Logan Abbott,” He recited as his partner stalked over to the astronomer, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “You are hereby being placed under arrest for several counts of slander, violations of Schenck V. United States, and misdemeanor charges.”

Logan's eyes widened. He gulped, unconsciously taking a few steps back.

“Sir,” Tawn said. “Please place your hands behind your back and come with us peacefully. Failure to do so will result in resisting arrest being added to your charges.”

Logan, heart in his throat, did as they asked.

Cold metal seized around his wrists.  Someone was reciting his Miranda rights, but he couldn't hear them over the roaring in his ears.

Tawn was leading him to the door when Patton found his voice. “Stop!” He cried, careening around the corner.  “Logan didn't do anything wrong!”

But Tawn took him away anyway.

“Sir,” Liander was saying. “Sir, I need you to calm down. Logan Abbott has been found guilty of crimes and must face justice for his actions.”

Patton felt light-headed. He was vaguely aware that his breaths were coming far too rapidly and too shallowly to be healthy, but he didn't care.  “I’M NOT A SIR!” He yelled. His head was swimming and salt water was running down his cheeks and he was hyperventilating and this stupid cop wouldn't let him see Logan.  “He didn't do anything wrong!” Patton cried, trying to get around the officer, but he was blocked at every turn. “Please, just let me see him. This is just one big misunderstanding.  He said he wouldn't. He promised.”

“Si- Ma’a- Look, whoever you are, Mr. Abbott is being arrested.”  The officer said sternly. “Your best bet is to wait it out or put up bail.”

And then he was gone.  And Logan was gone. The bakery was looming large and empty, slowly filling up with silence like water.  Patton could feel it splashing under his loafers as he stumbled towards one of the low-slung couches lining the wall.  His khakis plastered themselves to his legs as he sludged through the liquid, knee-high now.

The weight of his soaked clothes dragged him down even further as the liquid lapped at his waist. Each step was a Herculean effort, each foot put in front of the other a battle barely won.

The liquid slipped over his head as he futilely tried to gasp for air.  He collapsed on the couch, tears mingling with the water filling his bakery to the brim.  His limbs took years to move through the water as he clutched his chest, trying to scream, but only managing to release a stream of bubbles that popped uselessly as soon as they left his lips. No matter how loudly he screamed, no sound broke through the water trying to drown him.  There was no sound at all.

Logan was gone.

And Patton was all alone in the oppressive, overbearing silence.

Tag list:  @whatwashernameagain     @hellomusicalnerdhere      @anony-phangirl   @cashmeredragon  @thestoryoferissur  @awkwardeko6   @why-things-go-boom  @royallyanxious  @thecrimsoncodex

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

Multiverse is a Curse Word (10)

AHHH! Why can’t I just estimate a flipping ending accurately? I’ve split the ending into two more chapters YET AGAIN.

Addi is @hntrgurl13‘s OC, and the Dimension Jumper and Drifting Dimensions AUs belong to her as well.

The Addiford ship, which I am shamelessly obsessed with, belongs to @scipunk63.

The Adrift AU belongs to @the-subpar-ghost.

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista, thanks for sticking with me.

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11

Chapter 10: Robot In-Laws Are the Coolest In-Laws

I wish we didn’t have to do this, Addi thought.

Wikert Expansion Enterprises was apparently so influential in their dimension of origin that they could shut down the interdimensional customs terminal with a single transmission. So they had. Next thing Addi knew, they were being escorted to a private section of the building and a swirling blue portal was waiting for them.

“Assuming the coordinates you gave us are right, this should take you straight to RC736’s base of operations. Use this-” Lic thrust a transmitter into Addi’s hand – “to let us know the number of hostiles, and the kind of weapons technology we should expect, and we’ll arrive within twenty minutes, give or take,”

“Give or take what, exactly?” said Ford. Lic just grinned, like Ford had made a joke. Addi didn’t think that was a good sign.

The very reluctant scouting trio stepped through, and found themselves back in the dimension with permanently black sky, and furthermore, back inside RC736’s base of operations. The hangar, to be exact.

“Shhhhhoot,” hissed Addi, once again refraining from swearing in front of Mabel. They darted to the shelter of a nearby shuttle.

“Wow, they weren’t messing around when they said they’d get us to the base, were they?” said Mabel.

“I suppose not.” answered Ford, checking all around them for resisters. Fortunately, the hangar was deserted. “All the shuttles are here, so we shouldn’t have to expect any surprise arrivals.”

“I think we should split up.” said Addi suddenly. The others looked at her in alarm. “This place is huge,” she explained, “and the longer we take, the more likely it is that Lic is going to assume we’ve been captured.”

Ford had started nodding in agreement halfway through. “In that case, you take the residential quarter and the medical wing, and Mabel and I will handle the rest,”

Addi raised her eyebrows at him, letting him know she was fully aware of how he had directed her to the least dangerous parts of the garrison, and of how he was keeping Mabel with him so that he personally could keep her out of trouble. Ever the protector, that Stanford, doing what he thought was best for others without consulting them. In this instance she wasn’t complaining, however, so she just shook her head at his faux innocent expression and gave him a long kiss. He brought his hand around to the back of her neck, and she felt butterflies in her stomach before she pulled away.

Lastly, she swept Mabel into a surprise hug and touched their foreheads together, grinning at her giggle. “You stay safe, you hear?” She waited for Mabel to nod and then set off, walking backwards towards an exit. “Let’s meet back here in an hour. See you soon.”

We’re almost through this. In twenty-four hours, my family will be free.

⃝

“I thought you said we were splitting up?” catechised Mabel. “How come I’m coming with you?”

Ford sighed tiredly, having expected this. “Mabel, I know-”

“You know I can handle myself, right? I’m not useless, right?”

“Yes, I know you are a very capable person, and you are far from useless. However, I need you to stay with me because then I can be sure of helping you if you get hurt – which could happen to anyone, not only yourself!” he added quickly as Mabel’s mouth opened, “or in case of . . . any other number of scenarios.” he finished lamely, preferring to ignore the thoughts filling in those blanks.

Mabel was not satisfied with his answer. “You don’t think Addi’s going to get hurt,” she said, rather petulantly.

Ford bit back the first answer that came to mind. Adeline has been surviving on her own for thirty years, and unlike you she is an armed and dangerous adult. That was not to say he was not dreading what might happen to her, now he thought about it. He mentally shook himself. No time, have to sort this out quickly.

He decided honesty would be the best tactic. Quite apart from being the quickest way to appease his niece, she always seemed to know whether or not he was acting truthfully with her, and scolded him if he neglected to do so.

“Mabel, I am far more concerned with your safety than with Addi’s because you are the most important thing in the universe to me. In any universe, really. And I’m sure Adeline feels the same way.” He smiled tenderly. “So therefore, I am not prepared to take any risks when it comes to you. Or, well, unless they are unavoidable, or for scientific purposes, or for fun, or-”

He was interrupted by the fierce hug she gave him.

“Love you too.” she said simply, and looked up at him reassuringly. “I promise you aren’t gonna lose me. NotevenwhenIdothis!”

She darted away from him and dodged through a nearby access doorway. Ford was bolting after her before he fully registered what she was doing, and caught the door before it swung shut completely. Outside the hangar were many service tunnels, and this access doorway just so happened to face a junction of four of them. There was no sign of Mabel.

It was definitely the smart choice, he knew that. With the three of them all scouting different sections of the base their reconnaissance would be accomplished quicker, and they would have a much greater chance of receiving the support of Wikert Expansion Enterprises. He had not been willing to let Mabel go, so she had taken matters into her own hands. He should be proud. He was, on some level.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck . . .”

That level was buried deep beneath layers of anger and terror.

He chose a random corridor and ran down it.

⃝

About forty people in the “wreck-room”. Addi hadn’t been able to get close enough to check properly. Her quick glances from various entrance points were by no means accurate, but they were the best she could do, so she dutifully took down the estimate and the location in the transmitter, holding off from sending the message; she would wait until the entire compound had been seen to.

Security cameras would make this a lot easier, she reflected as she made her way stealthily towards the medical wing, checking rooms as she went. Then again, she didn’t want to be caught on a monitor herself, so maybe not. Overall, it was a good thing that Wesley had dismantled most of the Wikert security he could find. As far as Addi knew, he had never installed a replacement.

The more she thought, the more things there seemed to be that could go wrong. It was unlikely, but not impossible, that some resisters were out at the moment and could come back at the same time Wikert arrived. Several could round a corner and try to stop her at any moment. They could already know she was here, or Ford and Mabel could be being captured right this instant. An ambush could be waiting for her. The approximation they sent Lic might not be good enough. Actually, that was fairly likely. It wasn’t like she could just stop all the resisters from moving around, so she was bound to miss –

Wait a minute. She could stop them from moving around. Risky, yes, but ultimately it would be easier . . .

⃝

Okay, it’s okay Mabel, you’re not lost, you’re just a little displaced.

Everything around her seemed so quiet. She hadn’t yet encountered a single living thing and frankly she was beginning to wonder if anyone even inhabited this part of the building. Was she just wasting time? Well if she was, she had no idea how to get back on track, so she might as well continue the way she was going.

The corridor was very, very long, rounding many corners so it seemed like she was walking in a square shape, but she never came to a junction. There was the occasional door on the outer edge of the square. They had all been locked so far. The ground sloped gradually downwards, and Mabel assumed she was already underground. A feeling of slight claustrophobia was starting to get to her. She really hoped there was actually a way out at the end of this.

She also hoped, probably in vain, that Ford wasn’t worrying, and wondered if he would try grounding her again. It hadn’t worked well last time, as Ford couldn’t work out how to go about it in the first place (what with their nomadic lifestyle), and had melted the instant she snuggled up and apologised.

There was a faint buzzing noise coming from around the next corner. Mabel drew her grappling hook from inside her coat and approached slowly, mouth set in a determined line.

Peeking around the corner, she took in the scene.

The corridor opened into a long, starkly lit space, filled with assembly lines. They were laid out in front of her in parallel rows stretching to the opposite end of the room. Weapons were systematically being tweaked, repaired and cleaned by mechanisms as they moved down transparent conveyor belts. Mabel followed the progress of a gun down the line as if mesmerised.

“Can I help you?” a tinny voice said behind her. Mabel yelped and turned, brandishing her grappling hook.

A stocky robot observed her quizzically. “Is your weapon malfunctioning, small one?”

“Uh, no,”

“Do you have a special repair in need of undertaking?” The robot asked. It looked vaguely humanoid, but it had a sort of trunk with wheels rather than legs. Its chest was also a large magnetic plate, a perfect fit for the crates being filled.

“Also, uh, no,” she replied. The thing wasn’t very threatening. It looked eager to help, as much as a robot can be eager. “I’m looking for a way out,”

“The main exit is located along the east wall. I can guide you,”

“Thank you,” she said courteously.

The robot rotated on its wheels and she followed it past the lines.

“What happened? To the guns and stuff?”

“A mission. These military types are fairly lax with their equipment maintenance, which does not help during a firefight. Apparently, many explosions ensued. Ordinarily they do not take my advice, however, today is recall day and I have the majority of their equipment. I am in charge now. Ha. Ha,”

“Are you like, the supervisor?”

“I oversee repair operations for all technology in the building. Are you a resister?”

“Er,” Mabel considered how to answer. She doubted the robot would care enough to inform anyone, and besides, there was no one around to tell. “No,” she said confidently.

“Thank God. I’ve had enough of them,”

They reached the double-doored exit. The robot held one open for her.

“If you need any technology-related work done, let me know,”

Mabel smiled and went to go through the door. Then she stopped.

“Actually,” she said, turning back to it.

⃝

Nothing for it. She’d have to kick it in.

The operations centre was a sparse office without much use, as all the tech from Wikert Expansion Enterprises had been shut down when Wesley seized control. The only security system he had left active was the emergency fire procedure. Handily enough, it also doubled as a way to keep the resistance cell under control. A way to remind people who was in charge.

Addi’s boot slammed into the door, right next to the lock. It crumpled. Thankfully, nobody was inside and she didn’t have use her sword. Ever conscious of how much danger she and her companions were in, she wasted no time in logging into the system’s mainframe and bypassing the security it threw up. After all that time she had spent trying to open this place’s laboratory, hacking into the network constructed by Wesley was comparatively easy. Once she was in, she pulled up the desired protocol.

Are you sure you wish to close off all checkpoints? asked the computer, holographic words flashing.

Addi hit enter.

Initiating lockdown.

⃝

It quickly became clear that this was not the path his niece had taken. Despite how Mabel was able to move very quickly when she wanted to, the pace he had elected to move at meant that he should have caught up to her by now.

Focus on the mission. Well, the only other option was to develop an ulcer, so scouting it was.

Ford crept onwards, ears strained and weapon ready. He had already narrowly dodged several resisters, and had attempted to memorise their appearance so he could avoid counting them a second time, should the occasion arise. He came to a doorway and quickly checked for occupants. Rather than leading to a conference room of sorts, like the last few had, this opened into a wide hallway, at the end of which were double deadlocked doors and titanium-reinforced walls. On top of all that there were at least nine different types of access scanners.

He had been here before, of course. It was hard to forget an area containing so much security. This was the very lab Wesley had tested his skills as a hacker on. He still felt quite proud of how he had managed to disrupt the system and all its safeguards.

A thought struck him. Ford pulled out his portable monitor and walked over to the left wall, activating the hologram there with a touch. He connected the two devices easily, and set about finding his (virtual) way into the lab once again. It was much easier now that he had done all the work once before.

He typed in one final command, and the computer obeyed. Green lights flickered on all around the laboratory’s entrance, and the door beeped open freely, but Ford turned on his heel and left.

While that will certainly be useful, you still have a job to do.

Past the lab, away from the medical wing, Addi had that covered, here looked interesting . . .

Approximately five floors, eight planning stations, and twenty-six rooms of snoring, off-duty resisters later, Ford checked his watch. It was time to head back. Once again, thoughts about his family’s safety began to arise, but before they could do much more than flicker into life, a sudden wail of alarms crashed into existence, and flashing red lights assaulted his eyes. Feeling his heartbeat skyrocket and adrenaline flood through him, Ford clapped his hands over his head at the sudden deafening and blinding sensations, and was barely able to observe the thick metal seals being lowered at the end of the corridor. He had a feeling the entire section had just been closed off, and that similar things were happening all over the compound.

Who did they catch is Mabel okay what’s happening with Addi are they safe how do I get to them how long do I have –

Cursing and complaining. The sirens had stopped and he could hear people moving away from their shared quarters to find out what was happening. This told him that whatever was going on at least had not been a set-up: they still had a chance.

It hit him that he was trapped in a corridor with many disgruntled resisters on the way. Backup would be fine idea, now.

Ford drew the portable monitor out again and selected the first of two options he had at the ready. Then he drew his gun. Robots were not that reliable, and he was not sure whether these specially designed killing machines would attack him as well.

⃝

“You would like me to shut off all power to this facility’s external defences,” repeated the robot flatly.

Mabel nodded eagerly. “And also stop repairing these weapons. In fact, can you just seal this room completely so no-one can get to it? If most of the guns are down here then that’ll make it so much easier for the WEE people to storm the place and arrest everyone inside,”

“Wee people? Storm the place?”

“Yeah, my grunkle, grauntie, and I kinda recruited this really powerful organisation to help us take you down. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure you won’t go to robot prison or whatever. BUT,” she added cunningly, “only if you help me.”

The robot didn’t need long to make its decision. She was sure that if it were possible it would have blanched. “I agree to your terms,”

Promptly, sirens wailed and a metal plate rolled down over the exit.

“Wow, that was quick! Thanks! I still need to get out, though,” said Mabel brightly.

“I did not do that,”

Mabel laughed nervously. Horrible thoughts about being trapped, being captured, being separated from the others flashed across her mind. “Then who did?”

“Unclear. You may use this to gain passage, however. Take it and please, please, go.” The robot handed her a small, square, squishy thing, which, when she experimentally squeezed it, caused the metal plate to rise about two feet off the ground. It lowered when she pressed it again.

“Thank you so much, you won’t regret-”

“Too late. The sentinels are active.” the robot interrupted. “I do not wish to be involved in this any further. My in-laws are quite authoritarian, the cold-circuited jerks.”

“You have in-laws?”

“The key will give you access through all the checkpoints, and will not mark you as a threat to the sentinels.” It started shooing her towards the exit.

“Does this mean you’re married?” she asked while belly-crawling under the gap. “Can robots even get married? Do you secretly feel love?” No answers were forthcoming. “I’ll find out eventually!” she threatened, and resealed the exit.

⃝

Addi winced at how loud the lockdown had been. Discretion was obviously not what Wesley went in for. The most pressing thing on her mind at the moment though, was finding Stanford and Mabel. The hour was long since up, so they should be safely back in the hangar.

Before she left the operations centre, she checked the status of the building. The resistance would no doubt be on high alert, wondering what was happening. She estimated she had perhaps half an hour before they managed to break through the checkpoints.

Suddenly a cluster of blue dots appeared in the laboratory. They all began moving towards the sleeping quarters.

“That can’t be good,” she muttered.

Addi drew her sword and left, grabbing an access key as she went. The area with those blue dots looked like trouble, and the only troublemakers in this facility were on her side. Ford and Mabel needed her help.

The access key allowed her to bypass several checkpoints, until she rolled under one more and came up facing three resisters. One of them was Dek, who was too surprised to leer.

Limbs reached for guns and Addi’s own finger instinctively thumbed her E-field button. It didn’t work. It just crackled a spark, shocking her painfully. She cried out, already halfway towards them, and she was certain the distraction would cost her the use of at least one arm as someone was bound to shoot at her, but nothing more happened. She looked up in time to see expressions of dawning realisation on three faces. None of them had guns.

“That bloody robot-!” one had time to say before Addi socked him in the jaw and he collapsed. She ducked under another’s strike and sidestepped Dek’s punch, then gripped his arm vice-like and pulled him towards his friend. Their foreheads collided more gently than she meant, but their heads must have been soft because they fell to the floor just like the first guy. She paused to add their number to her total estimate in the transmitter, and hurried onwards. No weapons. That was interesting. And very good.

“HALT. STAND DOWN. HALT,” A booming digital voice emanated from a very deadly-looking black and grey robot ahead of her. It was a sentinel, and several others were behind it. She hadn’t known there were any here . . . wait a second. Hadn’t Ford said something about finding armed robots in the laboratory once? She had a feeling she knew what all those blue dots had been.

“STAND DOWN,” it repeated, lifting an arm which transformed in a series of intricate moves into a plasma cannon. Superheated air wavered inside the glowing orange barrel. There was no way Addi could expect to face off against a sentinel and win – not that she wasn’t tempted to try. Mabel and Ford were in deeper peril every second.

She dropped Big Bertha grudgingly and raised her arms in surrender.

“IDENDTIFY YOURSELF,” the sentinel demanded.

“Adeline Marks,”

The checkpoint was behind her. She had closed it when she stood up, but if she opened it again would she be able to quickly duck under and get away? No, you idiot, that robot is going to kill you if you make one wrong move, and besides, do you really think that plasma cannon can’t melt right through the wall?

“PRESENT IDENTIFICATION,”

“What identification?”

“PRESENT IDENTIFICATION,”

“I don’t exactly carry a passport these days,” Her pulse was roaring in her ears and she wished her smart mouth would shut it occasionally.

“PRESENT IDENTIFICATION OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE,”

Nothing for it. She was going to have to take her chances with the checkpoint.

“Okay, here it is.” She opened the hand with the access key in it, ready to squeeze the living daylights out of it, when the robot automatically lowered its plasma cannon and reverted it back into an arm.

“IDENTIFICATION ACCEPTED,”

“Really?” Addi checked her hand to make sure that yes, she was indeed carrying an access key, not a passport.

“WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS?”

“Orders?” She had absolutely no idea why these sentinels thought they were under her command, but she was not going to complain. “Uh, okay, I need to find two humans. Their names are Stanford and Mabel Pines, and they’re related, if that helps.”

“SCANNING TERRITORY.” After a moment the green thinking symbol in the sentinel’s visor dimmed. “NEAREST TARGET LOCATED. ADULT HUMAN MALE, FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF AGE, BLOOD TYPE-”

“That’s Ford! Is he okay? Where’s Mabel? Why aren’t they together?!”

“TARGET STANFORD PINES IS CURRENTLY SURROUNDED BY HOSTILE MEMBERS OF WIKERT RESISTENCE CELL 736. SEVERAL FIREARMS DETECTED. ADOLESCENT HUMAN FEMALE OF RELATION TO TARGET IS INBOUND.”

Not having time to sort through all the pressing questions she had, Addi focused on the most pressing issue. “We have to help him!”

“ALL SENTINELS ALERTED. ASSISTANCE WILL ARRIVE AT TARGET STANFORD PINES’ LOCATION IN T-MINUS 10 SECONDS,”

“Okay, take me to him now! Quickly! We need to be there as fast as possible!”

The sentinel immediately fired up its plasma cannon and blasted a hole through the wall on the left.

⃝

Mabel still had no idea where she was. She had some sort of access-all-areas pass, she had been up and down several floors, and her feet were starting to hurt, but she did not have a map. Or a watch. How much time had passed since she left the hangar?

There was sounds of gunfire nearby. Right. She shouldn’t’ve expected all the weapons to be recalled for maintenance. Her eyes widened as she realised what gunfire meant. The resisters were attacking someone! Actually, she supposed it could be Ford attacking them, too. That was better. A much nicer option.

Regardless, she sprinted as fast as she could towards the sounds.

Abruptly, they changed. She didn’t think screams were a good sign. And those blasts were a lot more powerful than usual laser guns. What the heck was happening? There were more noises now. The laser fire had started up again, but there was something else underneath that. It was like . . . crashing? Crumbling? Where was it coming from? Was it getting closer?

A red glow briefly permeated the wall ahead and to the right of her, and then it exploded into the corridor, chucks of concrete flying, making . . . oh! A kabooming sound.

A big metal robot, looking much cooler than the one in the basement, stepped through the hole, followed by Addi and several more robots. At almost the exact same time, the wall directly opposite them, on Mabel’s left, exploded, littering the corridor with debris once again. More robots, these ones escorting Ford, stepped through. Once both humans were standing in the hallway, they all went back through the left-hand hole, presumably towards the resisters.

There was a manic light in her uncle’s eyes, and once he stopped coughing he grinned as broadly as he could.

“You sent these?!” he asked Addi excitedly.

“Yeah! I’m guessing you activated them?!” she said, equally vibrantly.

“I did! Why are they obeying you though?”

“I don’t know! They asked for identification, and when they saw I had an access key they did what I wanted! It was so weird. And awesome! Did you see their plasma cannons?”

“I didn’t know they could be made so small! It’s a wonder of engineering! The sentinels must have seen that the access key and assumed you were the one who caused the lockdown. Since it was initiated through hacking – against the resistance’s wishes – and because I programmed them not to accept orders from Wikert or the resistance, they must have come to the conclusion that they were meant to follow you, since you’re not either!”

“I just thought we needed a way to stop the resisters moving around, and as a bonus this can probably contain them until Wikert arrives! We did it! Wait, you did manage to get a good estimate of your area, right? And by the way, I am so sorry for trapping you with the resisters, I thought you’d be in the hangar,” At this point they were both laughing and gripping each other’s arms tightly, looking as though they were barely restraining themselves from jumping around madly.

“Who cares, you sent robots after me! It was a great idea! Give me the transmitter, I’ll add my estimate.” Ford quickly typed his numbers in and sent the message. “Yes! It’s done! Only between one hundred and one hundred and thirty hostiles, so hopefully they’ll be here soon.”

“Did you notice how most of the weapons are missing?”

“Yes, although I was more grateful than interested. They would have shot me without hesitation if they hadn’t been so surprised. Ha!”

“It’s going to make this whole thing so much easier. I guess the lockdown will have taken away the element of surprise though, won’t it? They’re expecting a big attack now,”

“Well, I do have a diversion planned. This should surprise them,” said Ford, cockily holding up his portable monitor. Addi looked down at it and read whatever was there.

“You’re going to detonate the security explosive in the lab.” she said, and then looked up at him again. “You are damn sexy sometimes, you know that?”

“Just sometimes?”

“Hi! Mabel here!” Mabel watched as their faces changed from delighted to appalled. They hadn’t even noticed she was in the corridor with them. “Just wondering if you guys know we’re still in danger?”

The atmosphere took a sudden dive for distress. Immediately, Ford hastened over and scooped her up, while Addi took her face in her hands and spouted apologies for not thinking of her sooner.

“Are you okay?” Ford didn’t wait for an answer before he started checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine!” Mabel protested, attempting to wriggle down from her uncle’s tight grip. It didn’t work. She winced as she realised that was probably her fault: he didn’t want her running off again. What was more, Addi looked too freaked out at finding her separated from Ford to approve of her decision.

“Sh – Shiny gold rings!” Addi said very loudly. “We didn’t get your estimate! Wikert might not be prepared enough!”

“Actually, the only person I met was a vengeful yet grudging robot who said those other robots were his in-laws. It’s keeping all the guns in the basement. Also, I have an access key too! Do you think the robots would obey me?”

Ford chuckled, and both adults visibly relaxed as they saw she was her usual bubbly self.

“Don’t do that again,” her uncle warned, but no further chastising came.

The sounds of the fighting had quieted down several minutes ago, and the robots had moved somewhere else. All three people jumped when sirens once again wailed and green lights burst into life as the metal plates rolled upwards into the ceiling.

“Looks like the resistance is back in control,” Ford said.

“Not for long,” Addi said, and swiped the monitor from him. She wasted no time in selecting the second option.

A massive explosion rocked the building, coming from somewhere above them. Mabel saw a few pieces of debris actually jump off the ground. No more lab, she thought.

Addi grinned in satisfaction and handed the monitor back to Ford.

“Who’s sexy now?” he said appreciatively.

“Mabel’s still here!” Mabel shouted in his ear.

⃝

Addi led them away from the blast. It had probably been powerful enough to breach the outer wall, so the resistance would be expecting an attack from there. Until the force from Wikert arrived they just had to keep out of sight.

That sounded simpler in theory, Addi reflected.

“Marks. I thought I would find you down here,”

[florencemeivey]

We Face Our Enemy Together (Chapter Two of Somewhere Down the Line)

Shepard learned through Garrus that all of her former crew and friends, with the exception of EDI, had survived the final clash with the Reapers. All those who had been with her as crew during the battle were still on the Normandy, which was docked as near to her hospital as it could be. 

“Once you woke up, they got the word out somehow to the rest of our friends.” Garrus explained to Shepard as she leaned against him. He was helping her to her wheelchair. She had just finished her first physical therapy session, and the results looked promising. Now, she had been allowed to see her crew, so long as they came to the hospital.

“I suspect Liara, once again,” Garrus continued, shaking his head. “Those connections of hers as the Shadow Broker, I guess.”

“Mmhm,” Shepard replied distractedly. She was staring into space, and Garrus took immediate notice. He leaned down and rested his fingers lightly on Shepard’s cheek.

“Worried about Joker?” He asked, though he already knew the answer. Shepard nodded. “I still think you shouldn’t tell him,” Garrus said gently. “What good will it do now, except open old wounds?”

“Sometimes wounds need to be reopened to fully heal,” Shepard said grimly. “Joker’s my friend, and EDI was too. He deserves to know the truth.”

“Okay, it’s your call Shepard.” A pause, and then, “When did you plan on telling him?”

“When I can get him alone,” Shepard replied, her eyes set with the fierce determination that Garrus had learned long ago meant that she would not be dissuaded. He squeezed her shoulder in solidarity and comfort, and wheeled her away to go see their friends.

Liara was the first to notice the couple walk in. “Shepard!” She gasped, jumping up from the chair she had been perched upon. The rest of the crew stood then, crying out Shepard’s name in delight.

Shepard, despite her nervousness about what she had to tell Joker, felt a sense of joy and relief wash over her. She had lived to see her friends again, and they had lived to see her. She looked around at all of their smiling faces and felt a fierce, familial sort of love. These were the people who had followed her to hell and back. This was her family; the Normandy family.

Then came the reunions. Liara, Tali, Steve, James, and Samantha stormed Shepard, and wrapped her in a group hug. For a long moment Shepard was lost among a tangle of arms and laughing, smiling faces.

The others who were less inclined to give out hugs nonetheless offered their own greetings. Grunt and Wrex grabbed Shepard’s arm, as gently as they could, and extolled her strength. Wrex told her she had the biggest quad of them all. 

Javik loudly told anyone who would listen that in his cycle, people didn’t come back from the dead twice. 

Kaidan gave her a salute that would have been the picture of military propriety, if it hadn’t been for the wide grin on his face. 

Miranda touched Shepard’s shoulder and remarked with a hint of pride at how well her cybernetics had held up, and that Shepard was tough to kill.

Jacob gave Shepard a warm handshake and excitedly told her about his new baby, a baby girl that he had managed to convince Brynn not to name Shepard.

Samara gave Shepard a little bow and told her she was glad that the universe had decided it was not done with her.

Jack, who felt that she could not rightly punch Shepard, instead punched Garrus and crowed that Shepard was one tough bitch. 

Kasumi appeared out of thin air and cheerfully announced that she was glad Shepard was back among the living before cloaking herself once more. 

Zaeed told Shepard she was “a goddamn focking legend.”

Finally, it was time for her to face Joker. She turned to him, where he had hung back in the group. A fresh feeling of guilt hit her like a sucker punch when she saw just how depressed he looked. He didn’t look at all like the, well, “Joker” she remembered.

“Hey, Shepard,” He said when she turned to him. “Glad you’re back up, too bad we don’t have anymore Reapers to throw you at.” He paused, and Shepard saw him try to put on fresh bravado. “EDI would have been here, but uh...she didn’t make it.” He hung his head, and the room became quiet. Awkwardly so, pregnant with tension.

“Er, yeah...I’m sorry Joker.” Thinking that now was as good a time as any, she added, “Why don’t we take a walk? Garrus, everyone, we won’t take too long.”

Garrus gave her one last pitying look, and released his hold on her wheelchair. Shepard wheeled herself away, Joker following along with a puzzled expression. 

“What’s that about?” James murmured, looking after them.

“They have a lot to talk about,” Garrus replied. “And I guess while she explains to him, I should explain to all of you as well.”

So he did.

“What’re we doing out here, Shepard? We’re missing the party.” Joker asked, once Shepard had stopped in the hospital courtyard. This was probably the only thing she liked about the hospital; in this courtyard, flowers and trees grew where they didn’t elsewhere. A bench stood alone under a tree that had survived the Reapers, and Shepard wheeled over there. She was quiet until Joker sat down. 

“I wanted to talk to you, Joker. Alone.”

“I mean, it’s not much of a party, but still. Talking to me has got to be a lot lamer.” Joker responded, a ghost of his old humor in his voice before quickly becoming extinguished. 

“It’s about EDI,” Shepard went on, looking at her lap.

“Oh man, not you too,” Joker groaned. “Look, Shepard, I appreciate the thought but really? I don’t need your condolences.” He shook his head. “Everyone keeps saying how sorry they are for me. But it’s not true, is it? Not entirely. Because behind that sorry they’re all just relieved it wasn’t their partner or their family.” His voice broke, and he looked away, before continuing softly. “It wasn’t just EDI, you know? I got the news when we landed. My dad and sister are dead too.”

Shepard felt like the air had been knocked out of her. Her stomach in knots, she began without thinking. “Joker, I’m so so-” She caught herself, remembering what he had just said. Gently, she laid her hand on Joker’s arm. For a long moment they sat there quietly, Shepard hoping her touch offered Joker at least some small comfort. Before she had to add to his grief. 

“Joker...I don’t know how to tell you this.” Shepard finally began. She made herself look at him head-on. It was the least he deserved. “EDI’s death...it’s my fault.”

Joker looked back at Shepard, then looked quickly away. His voice came out robotic, rehearsed. “It’s not your fault. Who could have known that destroying the Reapers would mean the end of all synthetic life? You did what you had to do, what we set out to do.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you though, Joker.” Shepard replied, slowly. She took a deep breath. “I...learned beforehand that synthetic life would be wiped out. It was the condition of destroying the Reapers. And Joker, you deserve to know,”  her words came out in a rush now. “I had a choice...three of them. The two others involved controlling the Reapers or synthesizing synthetic and organic life. They both involved giving up my life and a whole lot of unknowns. In the end...I chose destruction.” She hung her head. “EDI was my friend, Joker, and so are you. I stand by my decision, but I’m sorry I had to make it. I’m so sorry.”

Joker was silent for a long time. Shepard knew better than to fill the silence with more talk. Instead she sat quietly, and watched the storm erupt on his face.

“No you’re not.” He finally said, his voice a low rumble. He shot a look of pure anger and hate at Shepard, and she felt her heart sink. “You’re not my friend, and you weren’t EDI’s.” He got up and in Shepard’s face. “I can’t believe I followed someone so selfish! You never cared for EDI like I did, none of you did! She was just a tool for you! But she meant something, Shepard! Her life meant something!”

He took his SR-2 cap off and threw it at Shepard’s feet. “I’m done,” he announced in a growl, and stalked off as much as his Vrolik’s disease would allow. “Find yourself a new pilot, Shepard. And a new friend.” He called over his shoulder, leaving Shepard behind and feeling like the most awful person in the galaxy.

Later that night, after all her friends had left, Shepherd cried her frustration, guilt, and grief out into Garrus’ shoulder. He held her and stroked her hair, knowing better than to tell her it was alright, or that everything was going to end up okay, because that wasn’t what she needed.

 Right now, she just needed an anchor to prevent her from floating away, and he would be that for her. 

She sobbed for a long while. Not just about what had happened with Joker, but over what had happened these past nearly four years. She had lost so much, and sacrificed so much. Ashley, Mordin, Thane, Legion, and EDI were all gone, in part because of her decisions. Her mistakes.

“I should have died,” Shepard whispered into Garrus’ shoulder, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her. “I should have done so many things differently. It should have been me.”

Garrus pulled away from Shepard, his hands firmly grasping her shoulder as he looked into her eyes. “Don’t ever say that,” He told her fiercely. “Shepard, you saved the world. You did all you could, gave all you had.” He shook his head. “We all knew the risks, we all made our choices. We can’t take them back now. And, Shepard,” he swallowed hard, and looked away. “I’m glad you made the decision you did. No option was perfect, but at least with this one, you live.” He touched her cheek. “Hearing we had beat the Reapers was a relief, sure. But it wasn’t until I heard you were alive that I felt truly hopeful again. You living is something I want to celebrate everyday until my last...so don’t ever say you wish it had been your life on the line.” He kissed Shepard tenderly.

She sniffled and pulled at Garrus until he was laying in her narrow hospital bed too. She lay against his chest, and he held her tight.

“That’s part of what makes me feel so guilty.” She murmured. “I’m happy I lived too. Happy that I can see a future with you.”

Garrus’ heart swelled. He kissed the top of Shepard’s head. “Get some sleep, Shepard. You have a long day of physical therapy tomorrow.” 

As she drifted fretfully into the peaceful embrace of sleep, Garrus held Shepard against him, his mind working and thinking late into the night. There was something he needed to ask James, or Kaidan, or Steve, one of the human men as soon as he was able. He squeezed Shepard, and fell asleep with the image of her nestled into the crook of his arm emblazoned in his mind.

[ygreczed]

Does Yuuki get a happy ending? Please let him find an alternative soulmate! It's not as if there is only one person in the entire universe who fits you, there must be other alternatives??

THIS IS AN EXCELLENT ASK ANON ! Will Yuuki have his happy ending ? I can’t answer this without giving you what is left of Yuuki’ story. So, are you ready ? (please read the end, I have something for you all)

- Yuuki was sure his heartache was going to last for the rest of his life but with his parents’ help, he somehow managed to go on anyway. He was recovering little by little now Sakuma had left and was having fun again playing sakka with his friends. However, Kidou was still able to hear his sobs sometimes late in the night.

- Actually Yuuki wasn’t even conscious he cried during the night because he was asleep at the same time. Kidou was desperate to know his son was so unhappy that he cried when he was sleeping. He told Fudou about it and they did their best to make Yuuki forget about all this fuss.

- Yuuki was selected to play on the national team as a pro player. It was his first good new for a while so he was really happy about it. When he told his parents, they asked where he was going to play, and Yuuki answered he will be sent to Tokyo.

- Kidou and Fudou were glad for their kid, because he was finally living again and seemed to have moved on but they felt sad too that the boy was leaving them.

- They were all getting ready for Yuuki’s move when they had an unexpected guest : it was Wonderbot and a friend of him. The bear asked after Yuuki, who was totally clueless as to who was the robot. The couple and the bear had small talk while drinking coffee and Yuuki stayed in the living room with the other young girl with pink hair, listening distractedly the conversation in the kitchen.

- Then Wonderbot declared he had something very important and very hard to tell them. Kidou and Fudou seemed to stiffen a little and ordered Yuuki to go in his room. Wonderbot said Yuuki was the main interested party in this story and that he needed to hear what he was going to say.

- Fudou was getting angry and started to threaten the bear before being interrupted by the girl, who said it was only about Yuuki’s choice, not Kidou and Fudou’s.

- Wonderbot explained they discovered a timelapse where Kidou and Fudou didn’t exist. In this alternate universe, without Kidou and Fudou, Inazuma Japan wouldn’t win the highschoolers’ FFI, and all the members would be brainwashed by a mysterious company, Nebulus, and would be used to take control of the country. This company’s purpose is to become stronger enough to invade this timeline and to steal what was remaining from the Aliea Meteorite kept by the Government, because it has been totally destroyed in their timeline. The pink haired girl was Tsunami and Touko’s daughter, and already decided to go in this other timelapse to make sure this scenario would never happen.

- Yuuki tried to know what they were expecting from him and Wonderbot said they needed Yuuki to go in this alternate timeline, because he was a mix of Kidou and Fudou, so he was able to make the difference and help Inazuma Japan so they would win. Kidou said it was too dangerous, Fudou explained that if he failed to make Inazuma Japan win the highschoolers’ FFI, he would be brainwashed with the rest of the team and wouldn’t be himself anymore.

- Yuuki stayed silent for a moment, then realised something. He stood up and faced his parents to say that if he didn’t try to change the future in the alternate timeline, then Nebulus would come in theirs and put everybody in danger… He said he wanted to protect his friends and his parents more than anything. The girl smiled with determination and Wonderbot asked if he was sure about this. Kidou and Fudou looked to their son, hoping desperately their boy was going to change his mind, but Yuuki was set on doing it.

- Wonderbot said he would let him ten days to prepare his leaving and left the flat with the pink haired girl.

- Kidou and Fudou first begged Yuuki not to go but they understood Yuuki had made his choice and that they couldn’t make him change his mind. Yuuki smiled at them while they were trying to accept his decision, with tears in their eyes, and comforted them.

- Yuuki thanked them for all they did for him, and started to cry in their arms. He said he was infinitely glad to be their son, it was his duty to make sure they would be safe in the future.

- Kidou said he hoped Yuuki would at least find his soulmate in this alternate universe and Yuuki suddenly realised that yes, perhaps there would be an alternative Sakuma there. Fudou fondled tenderly his hair and added that Yuuki deserved to be with the one he truly loved, after all.

- Yuuki didn’t want to tell everyone about his leaving : he only let his best friends know about it, and the people he knew for almost his whole life, like Endou, Gouenji, Haruna…

- Sakuma went to see him too before his departure. Kidou and Fudou let them have a talk, and Sakuma said he was very brave and that he would take care of Kidou and Fudou when he would leave. Yuuki apologized for the kiss and everything, saying it was kinda selfish since Sakuma was married, but he was still in love with him, and couldn’t help but wanting him, his whole body, his whole soul. His declaration melted Sakuma’s heart and they decided to have a goodbye kiss

- It was the best kiss in Yuuki’s entire life ; he was holding Sakuma tightly and kissing him kindly, calmly, as if they had their whole life ahead of them, to be together. It was soft and full of hope, and it was feeling so good… Yuuki whispered he loved Sakuma more than anything and that he hoped he would succeed in the other timeline so he could save his life here, and so Sakuma would be happy forever with Genda. Sakuma thanked him, fonddling and breathing his dark hairs.

-

- It took only a few days to Yuuki to find Sakuma in the other universe. Sakuma was Teikoku’s captain, about his age, and had a medium lenght cut, shorter than his hair back in the other timeline (even compared to his younger self). They were taking the same bus the morning.

-One day, he managed to sit next to him ; he was reading something about sakka. Yuuki’s heart was beating furiously when he leaned toward him a little and said “Feels good to see you again Sakuma.”

- Yuuki will never forget Sakuma’s look when he caught his eye for the first time. It was like there was a place deep into Sakuma’s heart, that was only waiting for him. Yuuki  promised himself he would fill this space with pure, powerful love.

Here is the last part… So ? Do you like it ? *nervous* There was no way Yuuki was having a sad ending, but Sakuma deserved to live peacefully with Genda, after all this time. I guess it can seem kinda sad because Yuuki left his dads and all but… He just found his soulmate, and this is his obsession since he is little, beacause he wants to be as happy as his parents were.

So yeah, here are my last hdc about Yuuki (I guess).

So now is the cool thing ! You will create Yuuki’s story from now on. I really want to make you participate in this amazing adventure so let me tell you the rules :

- send me you hdc(s) anonymously by ask. You can send as much hdc as you want to ! - the hdcs can be about Yuuki, Sakuma or Alt!Sakuma, Kidou or Fudou, etc… they can also be about the timeline plot with Nebulus, etc…- No rape, violence, etc…

I will post all of them and say which are my favorites ! And I’ll probably make a drawing of my favorite hdc among all ~I hope you liked it and I hope you will have fun with this game !!!

[cutegirlmayra]

Can you do a story where Amy gets mad at Sonic and tries smash him with her hammer and Sonic tries to calm her down, something around that scenario? I don't know why but I enjoy Sonamy stories like that lol

(x) Permission given by artists to use, please support them as well! (Author’s Note: If you or your artists friends are alright with me using your art as ‘preview images’ to my prompts, please contact me! I could use all the help I can get :) *You will always be credited!)

I was going through some things, so sorry if this is late! But because of the time I was able to take some time to think about it, I got a really cute and cool idea! I hope you enjoy it, my friend! :)

Prompt:

After receiving a distress call from Amy, Sonic hurried over to her location before spotting Shadow and getting sidetracked by the suspicious behavior of the G.U.N.

Finding a scammed hedgehog and corrupted Military system, the two reluctantly teamed up and put an end to the robotic imposter leading the G.U.N and tricking Shadow!

However…

Amy rolled to dodge the large, circular robot as it’s center cube opened to reveal scanners.

Detecting her movements, it was able to lock-and-load, to speak. It would target her and withdraw it’s connected metallic shards and form into a tight ball, resembling Sonic’s ‘spin-dash’ as it charged her like a rolling boulder.

Tails had analyzed Amy footage of the robot, trying to desperately find an opening, and after hitting the cube-eye that now disabled it’s locator; he could confirm that only Sonic’s quills could shred through it’s exterior to successfully destroy it.

Amy was a hard-hitter, but in no way could scrap through and destroy it’s core. With it’s hard-hide, Amy had no choice but to dodge it’s now random and blind movements.

It broke down trees in it’s wake, trying to listen now to detect movement before reeling itself up and charging in a random location. Amy had to lay low, worried now that Sonic hadn’t shown up.

She turned on her communicator, taking a risk. “…Tails?”

The robot turned to her.

“Eeep!” she got out of the bush she was hiding in and started racing to another location, but the Robot got smart…

Knowing she was only going to make sound while moving, it charged it’s roll up and jumped itself to a rock, using it to spring it in the air and come at her as if to squash her for good.

She looked behind her shoulder, fear tainting her eyes as she couldn’t possibly knock away a robot carrying so many tons of metal!

All seemed to go dark for a moment, the robot’s large, circular frame blocking out the sun.

Then another noise from the side, as a blue streak darted into the robot, taking only seconds to shred through the impenetrable hide of the robot and have it shake in air.

It excited out like a projectile from the robot as it uncurled and smashed into the ground, Amy being pushed out of it’s way and grabbed before thrown to the ground for safety.

She face-planted, her legs still slightly up in the air from the impact, before falling and spitting out dirt.

She turned around, huffing and puffing as she saw Sonic continue to shred through the hide with sparks of light flying off the sides. A saw to the now downed robot, before spinning out of his ball and folding his arms, watching the explosion.

“My favorite part!” He smirked, “Ahh…” he turned his head away and placed both hands to his hips, “Makes such a nice wind…” he seemed very confident, as if nothing was wrong…

“…You…”

Sonic’s ear twitched, and he happily turned around to her. “Hey, Am-” he twitched back his hand when he saw dirt all over her face, and her head down…

Her hands scrunched up the bottom of her red dress… her mouth formed a dangerous scowl, before she flung her head up to him.

“WHERE WERE YOU!?!?”

He flinched back, before trying to keep his ‘pleasant’ smile from looking terrified at her angry expression.

He leaned his head back, “F..Fighting?” he then shook himself out of his nerves, “Why do I need to explain myself? I got your distress call, and Tails told me about the robot’s weakness! You know that!” he gestured a hand out to her, slightly defending himself before placing a hand to his hip…

She looked down, closing her eyes and turning her head away, her anger only growing…

His eyes widened at her shift from anger to pain, and then shook his head out, trying to convince himself he wasn’t in the wrong here.

He sighed and dropped his arms, “Look, you’re okay aren’t you? You always tend to be…” suddenly seeming to get the idea she wasn’t, he moved in closer, leaning towards her.

“Amy… you are alright… aren’t you?” a new stance was taken, and he slowly bent down to examine her more closely.

Unable to see her up close, she shot back to her feet and swung a hammer at him.

“Yikes!” he leaned as far back as his spine could allow him, and waved his arms out around to balance himself; one foot dangling above the ground before finding it’s place there again.

“Amy! Calm down, I-!”

“You…! GRRR..aHHH!!!” she swung it some more and he ran, ducking and dodging.

“Amy! Let me explain!”

“You gave that up a moment ago!”

She threw her hammer out, summoning a new one instantly the second the last one missed.

He didn’t notice her hunching over…

The limp in her leg…

He barely noticed she hadn’t moved so quickly to run after him…

As he darted away in a serpentine motion, he suddenly dove into a bush, and peeked up.

His expression completely changed when he saw her collapse to her knees.

The friendly game they usually played suddenly ceased in his eyes as they narrowed and a new figure arose from that bush.

Taking on a new persona, Sonic suddenly seemed very serious, standing over Amy and looking to her arms.

They were shaking… twitching every now and then from stress and over-exhaustion.

Her mouth had some spit drip here and there that she wiped away, but her panting was dangerously convulsing her throat and stomach.

She shook her head to try and regain herself from dizziness, and Sonic’s fists clenched.

“You…” she barely got out.

“…Wasn’t here sooner.” he crouched down beside her. “I’m sorry.”

His apology hit her hard as her eyes widened at the sudden acceptance of his fault, and looked up.

“…I should have prioritized better. I thought you’d manage until I made it there.” His tone was dead-set on being honest and sincere- serious - without a shred of a hidden joke or punny phrase tied in there at all… 

“I saw Shadow in a strange predicament and found some deceit in G.U.N’s management… I thought you’d understand…”

He looked straight into her eyes, pausing her long enough to allow her body to breathe a bit more normally now that she wasn’t shouting so much.

He pressed a hand to the ground to hold himself up, but lean closer towards her face, allowing her to examine his own eyes and make her conclusions about his words.

“If I had known you were struggling so much… even a fraction of what I’m seeing now… I wouldn’t have goofed off so much.”

She saw no fault in his eyes… he was just being a hero. Being himself. And he hadn’t realized…

She forgave in a small surrender, looking away from his eyes and down at the ground.

“…You were right to trust I could handle it… under normal situations.. but.. it was designed to take my heavy blows…” she saw her body tremble violently for a moment before stabilizing itself…

In panic, she gripped her shaking arm and looked away, ashamed at her appearance to him…

She worked so hard to become strong in his eyes… and the second he had finally trusted her to be alright, she proved all her efforts wrong.

She squinted her eyes.

“I… I wish I could have proven you right.” she ducked her head further behind her, not wanting him to see any tears that may threaten her face.

She heard footsteps, but knew he couldn’t just be up and leaving.

He came back, and she wondered what made him walk away in the first place.

Suddenly, he was back to one knee and stringing something through her hair, under her headband; something stiff and pointy…

“H-hey..” she lifted her hands up to try and feel what it was, but his words stopped her.

“You know, Amy… you’re very strong.” he continued to startle her with more things being stuck through her hair that she couldn’t identify.

But her hands hesitated and her heart paused.

She had always wanted to hear him praise her efforts.

Her eyes pulled up to reveal small tears threatening, before he continued, her lower lip also strained to remain calm.

“… And I’m not just talking about your hammer’s strength either.” he smiled, and pulled away. “I’m talking about what’s inside. You’re sheer determination to never quit. That’s why you were able to keep fighting. Believing I would come…. it’s because you refused to quit. On both the battle… and on me.”

He gestured his head to her own, and she rose her hands to touch whatever he had put in her hair.

Her eyes widened.

“What’s inside… comes out as outward beauty.” he admired the decorative work he had done, putting a hand to his knee to push off from and stand up straight, then that very hand to his chin.

“Heh.” he smirked at the flower crown, before Amy removed her hands and revealed her watery, glossy eyes to him.

“Sonic…” she tenderly spoke out.

He winked to her sweetly, and then offered his hand.

“Let’s get you home, Amy… you deserve a hero’s rest.”

She smiled and jumped into his arms, sobbing as the flowers let some petals fall through the wind she created with her thrust towards him.

They softly, slowly… fell to their feet as Sonic awkwardly chuckled and let her embrace him with tears.

(This… was precious ;A; )

[hellostarlight20]

I Fall in Love with You Every Day 3/5

Title from the Frank Sinatra song of the same name Nine/Rose Ten/Rose Regeneration, fluff, angst—oh the angst! happy ending Recognizable dialogue from appropriate episodes

For @natural–blues who wanted Nine x Rose in a committed relationship with full on confession of their love (no oh, you know rubbish) when Nine regenerated into Ten. Also Rose remembers Bad Wolf and feels as if she killed her Doctor. The following story follows canon only in the loosest sense.

AO3 and TSP, on Tumblr part 1 and part 2

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist. Tears once more escaped her control and fell, unchecked. He—the Doctor—lifted his other hand and wiped her face, so tenderly, with so much caring, she cried harder.

“Doctor? What happened?”

“I told you,” he whispered and though it wasn’t his harsh, northern voice she heard the same notes in this newer accent. “I was dying. Didn’t want to go,” he admitted. “Didn’t want to leave you.”

He brought her hand to his face and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. Rose stared. She’d—they’d been in this position so many times, with her cupping his cheek and the Doctor leaning into her. So many times in bed, them lying together, or on the couch watching telly. In the Console room, the galley, hiding from whomever chased them.

Her fingertips brushed his temple and he willingly opened for her.

“Doctor.” It was a gasp, a moan, a sob. It was hope. “Why?”

“Because you’re more precious to me than my life.” He opened his eyes and once more, the brown of them shocked Rose where she expected blue. “What do I always tell you, my Rose? I fall in love with you every day. I don’t say it because it’s sweet.”

“It is sweet.” She was openly crying now, torn between heartache and—and she didn’t know.

“You take that back.” She almost smiled at his typical comeback, the supposedly harsh words she knew belied the love he felt for her. She couldn’t make her lips form the grin, however. He brushed her tears away and kissed her forehead. “I say it because it’s true.”

“Can you change back?” she whispered, eyes roaming over his face.

“Oh.” He dropped her hand and frowned. “Do you want me to?”

The word slipped out before she realized. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” He stepped back, taking his telepathic love with him.

“Can you?” She already knew the answer. If he needed to change because he was dying he probably couldn’t un-die.

“No.” He looked away and that hurt almost as watching him change. Almost as much as her own words. “Do you want to leave?”

“What? Leave?” She repeated, shocked. “What? Oh…um…” she trailed off, confused. The last however long seemed a lifetime and she still had no real idea what happened. “Do you—do you want me to leave?”

“No!” He said it so quickly it reassured her. “But it’s your choice. If you want to go home…”

“Home?” She repeated, quite unsure how to do anything else. “I thought I was…”

“Cancel Barcelona,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “Change to London. The Powell Estate, ah, let’s say the 24th of December.” He tried to smile or tried to reassure her or tried to do something but Rose just—she just couldn’t. Didn’t understand and didn’t know what happened and just—she was lost. “Consider it a Christmas present.”

She edged closer, trying to figure out what happened to her world.

“There,” the Doctor said and didn’t sound one ounce proud of himself. Instead he looked lost. Scared. Upset.

The TARDIS shuddered as if She objected to the change in course, humming angrily in Rose’s head. The Doctor seemed to ignore Her.

“You’re bringing me—back? To London?” She shook her head, but the words refused to form. That wasn’t her home, he knew that. If he was her Doctor as he claimed, he had to know that. “You don’t…” the words trailed off into a throat-tightening whisper of a sob.

He met her gaze, even, cool, and yes. There it was. Her Doctor stared back at her in that uncertain look. As if he still, still didn’t know how much she loved him. Or…other him…or…Rose didn’t know. Didn’t understand it herself.

“Up to you,” he said nonchalantly. “Back to your mum. It’s all waiting. Fish and chips, sausage and mash, beans on toast.” He cut himself off then suddenly brightened. “No, Christmas! Turkey! Although, having met your mother nut loaf would be more appropriate.”

He’d said that before, too. Several humorously disparaging things about her mum. It was so familiar, so beloved, her lips quirked up. “What’d I say about making fun of Mum?”

“Was that a smile?” He ducked down and his grin widened. Not the manic, daft grin she loved, but a wide, happy smile that tugged at her heart.

“No.” Her smile widened.

“That was a smile,” he stated this time. “I know my Rose’s smile.”

“No,” she protested. Weakly. “It wasn’t.”

“You smiled.”

They were both grinning at each other now and it felt so natural, so right, Rose almost forgot she was looking at a new man. Almost forgot. “Oh, come on, all I did was change, and only physically at that! I didn’t—” He gasped, doubled over. The TARDIS shuddered as he did.

“Doctor?” She reached for him but didn’t touch him, still not sure. “Doctor, what’s wrong?”

“I said I didn’t—” He cut himself off again, gasping and clearly in pain. She tried to touch him, sometimes her touch helped, but he stumbled backward. “Rose, no! Stay back! The regeneration’s gone wrong. I can’t—I can’t stop.”

He looked up at her, broken eyes a painful plea. Rose reached out again, had to. Needed to—to touch him, help him, do something.

“Help me. Please. My Rose.”

Before Rose could agree, or not, a warning bell rang through the TARDIS. The ship shuddered and shook and it was unlike anything Rose had felt before. Even when they chased Jack’s space junk (there was something about Jack…) or crashed onto Nivray Beta.

“Doctor! Hold on!”

“Rose!” He reached for her but she couldn’t make her fingers release the console. “Help me.”

Rose had no idea how to do that. How to help him or how to help herself. Her Doctor had left her and in his place was a manic maniac who crashed his beloved ship and had the indecency to slip into a coma.

Damn man.

**** Rose stared down at the man. The Doctor. The Doctor, she wasn’t sure if he was hers. He had regained consciousness only long enough to help her. But wasn’t that what she’d whispered to him? Pleaded with him?

“Help me,” she’d begged.

And he had. Surely that meant he was her Doctor. Even unconscious he came to long enough to stop those killer robotic Santas.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Mickey asked.

“I did.” Rose didn’t look away from the new face.

“Rose, one minute we was opening that blasted ship of his and the next you were gone.” Mickey paused. “Do you know how long it’s been since then?”

Rose looked up, surprised. “I don’t even—” she shook her head and grimaced. “Sorry, Micks. I don’t remember a lot of what went on that day. For me it was yesterday. How long?” She only partly cared about the answer.

“Three months.”

Shocked, she blinked and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“For three months we didn’t know if you was alive or dead. Jackie nearly went spare, but she never gave up.” Mickey lowered his voice and crouched next to her where she sat in the chair by the bed. “I know you love him.”

“I love the other him.” The words cracked like broken glass around her. “I don’t know this him.” Rose swallowed hard and fought back tears. She was so tired of crying. Of not knowing. Of mourning (something about his death, about the other him dying. Absorbing the Time Vortex and—and—)

“I’m sorry, Rose.” He rested his hand on her leg and Rose finally looked at him. “Get some rest.” He kissed her forehead. “I have a feeling those killer Santas aren’t done yet. I’ll go check the estate. See if anyone’s seen them again.”

Rose nodded but already looked back at the Doctor. She gingerly took his hand.

“You feel the same,” she admitted to his unconscious form. “Even though I see your hand is different, it feels the same in mine. Our fingers fit. Always have.”

She raised his hand to her cheek and cupped it on her skin. Closing her eyes, she sighed into his touch. His fingers curled into her cheek, brushing her temple. Or maybe that was her hopeful imagination. Rose couldn’t tell anymore.

“And I feel you.” She sniffed and swallowed hard but kept her voice low and steady. “I can feel you trying to reach for my mind. As if you know I’m here but can’t quite stretch far enough. Can you feel me, too?”

She couldn’t quite bring herself to call him Doctor. Not yet. Rose closed her eyes and concentrated as her Doctor taught her. Relaxing was out of the question, but she did her best. Opening herself to him, Rose stood in their telepathic grotto, surrounded by waterfalls and bright flowers, by heavy tree overhangs and by soaring birds calling to their mates.

“Come back to me.

Rose lowered his hand and kissed the palm. Once more his fingers curled into her touch, or she thought they did, and she swore he sighed her name. Curious, afraid, Rose bit her lip but she already moved onto the bed.

Kneeling over him, him in Howard’s pinstriped jimjams and flat on his back, her knees bracketing slim hips, she brushed her fingers over his temples.

Golden light blinded her. Melodic song drew her further in. She was on the TARDIS. They were in the console room. No, Rose was alone—not alone, only she and the TARDIS.

“Rose?” His new voice echoed over the blinding light. “Come back to me, my Rose.”

Her hands dropped. Rose sat straighter and tried to make sense of what she saw. Or felt. Or sensed. All she remembered was his voice, his new voice, calling for her.

“What the bleeding hell are you doing?”

Rose jerked, toppling over onto the other side of the bed and just barely stopping herself from falling onto the floor.

“Jesus, Mum.” She stood, heart hammering in her chest. Rose looked to the Doctor but he hadn’t so much as sighed.

“What do you think you’re doing on him like that, Rose?”

Embarrassed, Rose grabbed Jackie’s arm and dragged her out of the room and into the hall. She didn’t know why she bothered; clearly the—the Doctor couldn’t hear anything. But she didn’t want to wake him if he needed sleep and if he was—what? Faking it?

She was being ridiculous now.

“I was trying to see if I could find him,” she hissed. “His people are telepathic and I was hoping I could—”

What? What was she hoping to do? What had she even thought she could do? Rose slumped against the wall and slid down. Head in her heads, she pressed her fingertips against her eyes, hoping to stave off all of it. Tears, worry, grief.

“I don’t know.”

Jackie sat next to her and wrapped her arm around Rose’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She kissed the side of her head. “I know you loved him.”

Love. Loved. Love.

“Yeah.”

[sophcaro]

Back in Time | WMatsui - Chapter 8

Rena didn’t know how to interpret Jurina’s strange behavior when they made their way to the office. Since the moment they woke up, Rena could tell something was off with her girlfriend. Not only she spoke very few words, it was evident she was stressed. When she witnessed those signs, Rena questioned her in concern, the latter brushing it off with a small nervous look. Nothing serious, Jurina assured her. This morning, she had a lot on her mind because of the monthly meeting regarding the advancement of the time machine.

Rena chose not to insist – remembering indeed the important meeting was supposed to happen this morning – even though she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jurina wasn’t telling her the entire truth. To add to her skepticism, she recalled vividly the short conversation that took place between Jurina and her robot before leaving the house. Rena was waiting patiently a few feet away for the other girl to finish her chat with him, and the very last words they exchanged brought a frown to her face. Even though she was too far to catch the whole conversation, she still managed to catch snatches of it, and heard Jurina asking Alfred to wish her luck.

Wish her luck? But for what?

Rena’s first thought was to assume that it was related to the time machine. Had Jurina managed to make significant advancements lately? An incredible breakthrough she wished to announce later at the office? Rena couldn’t fathom what else it could possibly be. At some point, she almost broached the subject but refrained herself at the last minute, guessing Jurina had a good reason for not telling her. Maybe she wished to make it a surprise? If that was the case, then she was going to act completely clueless, and let the other girl announce it when she deemed the time was right.

This morning, the sky was cloudy and dark, and Rena was more than grateful for her mini-collapsible umbrella when droplets of water started to fall in the streets in Tokyo. It wasn’t much and she didn’t believe things would escalate further than that, but she placed nevertheless the umbrella above their heads as soon as it started to rain. Of course, Jurina had all-forgotten about the mixed weather when they left home. Not that she expected any less.

Jurina was a very reliable person, whether in the workplace or in her personal life. However, if there was one item Rena knew she couldn’t dispose of, it was her faithful mini-collapsible umbrella. After three months of living under the same roof, one thing became more than obvious: she absolutely couldn’t trust Jurina when it came to the weather forecast. Didn’t she pay attention, or didn’t she really care? Up to that day, Rena still didn’t have a clear explanation.

When they entered one of the elevators at Matsui Corporation, Rena was starting to seriously doubt the credibility of her theory regarding her girlfriend’s peculiar behavior. They had a morning routine. Each time they found themselves alone in the elevator – which was now the case, as many people had descended at the previous floors – Jurina wouldn’t wait to engage in a conversation with her, flirt with her and kiss her. Not this time. In fact, Jurina was keeping her distance and looking anywhere but at her – visibly finding the change of floors numbers very interesting – and appeared increasingly more restless, her fingertips tapping frequently against the handrail of the elevator.

The more Rena studied her, the more she was convinced it couldn’t be related to the time machine. Not once since the younger girl joined the company, had she seen her acting so nervous because of work-related matters. In the professional field, Jurina was a confident person. Now fearing something serious may have happened to her on a personal level, Rena couldn’t help but get really worried. Somehow, she could sense it was an important matter. But why would her girlfriend hide something from her? At the very early stages of their relationship, they had promised to always be honest with each other.

Rena was at an impasse. Stealing a brief glance at the numbers, she noted that they were halfway through their final destination. Until now, she had chosen to keep her thoughts to herself, believing it was probably an innocent matter, but she couldn’t stay quiet any longer. If Jurina was in any kind of trouble, she needed to know.

Her mind made up, she let out a gasp of surprise when Jurina suddenly detached herself from the wall to quickly press the Stop button on the control panel. The elevator obeyed to the command and stopped at once. Rena’s heart pounded uncontrollably inside her chest, and she stared back at Jurina in complete shock. What on earth got into her? Jurina was definitely not herself. “What are you–”

“I have something important to tell you,” Jurina turned and faced her, interrupting her before she had time to formulate her question.

The moment after, Jurina decidedly stepped forward, a pair of lips brushing Rena’s cheek in kiss as Jurina laced their fingers together. Saying Rena was utterly confused by the whole situation would be the understatement of the year. She had absolutely no idea what was going on with her girlfriend. However, as she noticed the shy smile directed at her, she got the feeling that, whatever Jurina was planning on telling her, it couldn’t be as bad as she initially feared.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Jurina murmured against her ear, gently pulling her into her arms.

The gesture coupled with the affectionate words relaxed Rena a little and, regaining her composure, she smiled, pressing her lips to hers. “Of course, I do. I love you too.”

The answer seemed to satisfy her girlfriend as her mouth tugged into a broad smile of pleasure, but Rena guessed there was more to it than Jurina’s simple wish to renew her love for her. Indeed, her expression grew serious and she put a little distance between them, her tone solemn when she spoke. “Eight months ago, I arrived in Tokyo in search of an exciting new job opportunity. My goal was clear and simple: put all my abilities at the service of an incredible project, then continue on my way as soon as I would have succeeded. That’s what I’ve been doing all these years. The idea of being free from any constraints, and having no strings attached was all I desired.”

Jurina leaned her back against the elevator panel behind her, and Rena could tell by her hesitant look that she was searching the right words to continue. The CEO studied her girlfriend carefully, taking advantage of the pause to process what she had said. Nothing she had previously uttered really came as a surprise. Rena knew about Jurina’s past and her expectations of life. Moreover, she was aware that her current life philosophy was triggered by an event that occurred during her college life.

After a two-year relationship with a girl, Jurina got her heart broken when she the least expected it. That unforeseen event not only deeply affected her, it also changed her vision of life. From that day, her ambitions changed. Gone was the person who was madly in love with her girlfriend, up to the point of considering following her abroad. Jurina had put her past behind and forgiven her ex-lover, but it didn’t stop the fact that something had changed within her after that day.

Jurina was devoted to her work. Rena witnessed it on a daily basis, and welcomed that aspect of her personality. However, as the months went by and she valued Jurina’s presence by her side as both a hardworking co-worker and a passionate lover, the idea that the other girl could leave once the time machine project was over never crossed her mind. They were happy together; at least that’s what she believed. So why were Jurina’s last words making her question their future together?

“You make me so happy,” Rena broke the silence that had settled between them. Maybe she was reading too much into Jurina’s words and nervous look. Maybe what her girlfriend wanted to tell her had nothing to do with any of that. “But I will never stop you from doing what you desire.” Rena tried to sound confident, but was unable to keep the concern out of her voice at the fear of losing her. “If you want to leave the company and Tokyo once the time machine is built, I won’t stop you and will support your career choices. I will even help you, if it’s in my capacity.”

Jurina’s startled look fell upon her. “What? No, that’s not what I meant. It’s the opposite. That’s one of the things I wanted to tell you. Lately, I came to an important realization. Even when the time machine is finished, I don’t want to leave Tokyo. Because now, I believe I have a reason to stay. Am I wrong?”

Jurina’s fingers brushed her cheek tenderly and Rena held her breath in anticipation, finding herself once again enchanted by Jurina’s shy but charming smile. That beautiful smile that made it impossible for her to say no when the younger girl had asked her on a date for the very first time. “I know what I want, and what I want is you. Not for six more months, or the duration of the project. No, for much longer than that.”

Warmth spread through Rena’s chest, her eyes following Jurina’s actions as she took a step back and slipped her hand inside her vest’s left pocket. When Jurina pulled out a small square red velvet box, slowly and nervously popping it open, Rena’s heart began to race at the diamond ring.

Everything suddenly made sense. Why Jurina was acting so abnormally stressed all morning. Why she had exchanged those enigmatic words with Alfred in front of the house. And why she had chosen to hold this important conversation in such a symbolic place. Jurina’s current apprehension was palpable, and Rena was pretty sure her heart stopped when her girlfriend opened her mouth to speak. “No one makes me as happy as you do, and I want to spend my life with you. Rena Matsui, will you marry me?”

“Yes, I will!” Rena didn’t think twice and quickly reached forward to claim her lips. She could tell her girlfriend had been caught off guard by her spontaneous action, as it took her a few seconds to react and move her lips against hers. Rena pulled her into her arms and continued kissing her, her heart hammering loudly against her ribs. She was fully conscious that she was behaving far from the calm and composed person she was always praised to be, but she couldn’t care any less.

Rena never planned on getting married. In fact, it had never even been one of her ultimate goals in life. In the past, a few suitors had popped up the question, but she had always rejected them as politely and gently as possible. Until a few months ago, she was entirely satisfied with her bachelor existence. She was a successful business woman who loved her job and found comfort in the routine of her work. What else could she possibly need more? But life wasn’t a succession of events you could plan and control; it was unpredictable. And if there was one thing the CEO of Matsui Corporation surely didn’t expect in her perfectly ordered life, it was to fall in love.

Rena pulled herself slightly away from the embrace, and witnessed Jurina’s eyes dimming with trembling tears, yet glowing with a great happiness. Jurina cupped her face lightly in her palms, and Rena leaned forward to rest her forehead on hers, feeling the overflow of her own emotions. Of course, it was an important question not to take lightly, but she didn’t feel a shred a doubt. Spending her life with the girl who had captured her heart on a rainy day of March was all she desired. 

**********

It seemed bad weather was fated to accompany them in the most important moments of their life. It was a bright and shiny day of November when the couple and their guests arrived at the wedding venue, only for clouds to appear and the sky to turn misty and rainy in the middle of the afternoon. Thankfully, everyone had already taken shelter by the time droplets of water hit against the window, and the ceremony was carried out as planned, the happy couple exchanging their vows in front of their friends and loved ones.

They had managed to keep the date of their wedding private, but it didn’t take long for the news of their union to get out. In fact, by the time they were cutting the cake, the wedding of the most famous bachelorette and influential millionaire of Matsui Corporation was already making media headlines, a crowd of paparazzi defying the pouring rain in the hope to take a shot of the new happy couple.

It was without taking into account the couple’s most devoted and faithful servant, the one and only Alfred. From the moment Jurina and Rena woke up, he had taken upon himself to supervise the whole day. From double checking after the work of the staff in charge of their wedding, to carrying and bringing the rings for the anticipated moment of the exchange, the thoughtful robot had left nothing to chance.

In fact, he was the first to notice the gathering of paparazzi outside, immediately storming out to shoo them away one by one. All day, Alfred, dressed for the occasion in a handmade black wedding suit, had been praised by guests for his model conduct. The flattering compliments never failed to make him extremely proud, the robot repeating to anyone who would listen that he didn’t know why it had taken them so long to get married, having predicted such an outcome from the very first day.

 **********

A year and a few months later…

There was an undeniable apprehension at the pit of Rena’s stomach when she stepped out of the taxi and passed the clinic’s automatic front doors. As soon as she had received on her phone the alarming message from Alfred, she had excused herself from the meeting she was attending and left the office in a rush. All the way to the clinic, she couldn’t help re-reading the worrying text again and again, praying nothing bad had happened.

Rena approached and addressed the robot at the front desk, her racing heart refusing to slow down despite her best attempts to calm her nerves. Her optimistic side refused to assume the worst. This morning, when she left the house, everything was fine. However, Alfred’s alarming message was playing tricks on her mind, and she knew she needed to assess the situation in person.

“Welcome Matsui-san.” The robot said, making a brief pause to process Rena’s question. “Yes, your wife arrived at our clinic this morning. She’s is in room 222. Please take the elevators on your left and go down at the second floor.”

“Thank you,” Rena gave the robot a grateful look and moved towards the designated corridor, quickly pressing the elevator button. As she waited, as patiently as possible, for the elevator to arrive, she tried to reassure herself that Jurina was in good hands. This was the best clinic of Tokyo, and the doctors were nothing but extremely competent. Albeit those facts, she couldn’t get rid of her apprehension at the unforeseen turn of events.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not today.

Not this week.

Not even this month!

It only took a few minutes’ walk for Rena to reach the room 222, a reassured smile instantly moving to her lips when she entered and was greeted with the view of a napping – but visibly in good health – Jurina lying on the clinic bed. Concern made way to a wave of relief, and she slowly progressed inside the room, observing attentively the resting girl once she found herself by the side of her bed.

Jurina’s features were tired but peaceful, and Rena realized that her previous fears proved to be unfounded. Her wife looked completely fine. Deciding not to wake her up, she took a seat in the nearby chair, reaching over to gently take Jurina’s hand inside hers. Her thoughts briefly went towards the humanoid robot that shared their daily life, making a mental note to tell him later to be more careful with his choice of words. He had scared her to death!

Rena jolted out of her thoughts when Jurina’s fingers squeezed hers lightly, and a pair of sleepy eyes landed on her. “Rena… w–what are you doing here?”

Rena’s mouth tugged into a pleased smile, and she leaned down to place a soft, gentle kiss upon Jurina’s lips. “Alfred warned me that you were not feeling well and that you needed to go to the clinic. I came as fast as possible.”

“H-He sent you a message? I didn’t know. When I told him about the pain, he became unusually restless and decided to take care of everything, starting from urging me to take a seat then calling an ambulance. He was acting so frantically, it almost looked like he was the one in pain, not me.”

An amused smile fell on Rena’s lips at Jurina’s joking tone, discovering she had definitely not lost her sense of humor despite the circumstances. Of course, a part of her wished she had been by Jurina’s side at that time, but fate had unfortunately decided otherwise. Thankfully, you could always count on Jurina’s devoted servant to take care of his precious mistress at all times.

“Wait…” Jurina grew concerned, as she came to a sudden realization. “Weren’t you supposed to meet the executive committee? Don’t tell me you left right in the middle of it because of me?!”

“Of course, I did! I didn’t know your condition. I had to see you and attest for myself that you were alright!”

Jurina made a face, embarrassed that her robot’s actions had led the busy CEO out of such an important meeting. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m fine. We are both fine. I don’t know why he did that. I–”

“He did the right thing.” Rena quickly pressed a finger to Jurina’s lips, effectively shutting her up. “You’re my wife. Nothing is more important than you and your wellbeing. Besides, today is a very special day…”

Rena captured Jurina’s lips in another tender kiss, the latter responding to the affectionate gesture with a wide, pleased smile. Alfred’s unexpected behavior fell at the back of her head, admitting how happy she felt deep inside to have her wife by her side. When she began feeling the pain at home, she didn’t draw hasty conclusions and stayed calm, persuaded nothing was going to happen considering how early it was.

In the end, it appeared the calendar wasn’t going to be respected.

A tentative knock on the door interrupted the reunion, both glancing in the direction of the young female nurse who had just arrived in the room. When Rena noticed the small baby sleeping peacefully inside the nurse’s arms, her eyes lit up, emotion starting to take hold of her when she guessed the identity of this tiny human being.

Without her consent, Rena’s heart started beating faster inside her chest, and she simply couldn’t detach her eyes from the quiet baby when the nurse approached her. “Congratulations, Matsui-san. You have a beautiful and healthy little girl.”

When the nurse manifested her intention to place the child inside her arms, Rena was slightly caught off guard, and diverted her attention to Jurina with a questioning gaze. Somehow, this didn’t feel quite right. Shouldn’t Jurina have the privilege to hold the baby first? After all, she was the one who had given birth to this most beautiful creature.

“I already held her before your arrival,” Jurina said, as if she could read her mind. “Come on, take her. You know you can’t wait for it.”

This time, Rena didn’t oppose any resistance when the nurse placed the child inside her arms, listening attentively as the woman explained the best technique to hold the baby. When the female nurse deemed her presence not necessary anymore, she left the room, leaving a certain CEO completely mesmerized by the child resting against her chest.

“It seems someone was a little impatient to arrive in this world,” Jurina said amusingly, not missing out the touching interaction between her wife and their first child.

Rena, who was tentatively making acquaintance with the sleeping little girl, tried to reply, before realizing she couldn’t find the right words to express the extent of her current happiness. For a little while, her eyes stayed glued on the baby barely born, thinking how precious it already looked. Without realizing it, tears of joy began to form in her eyes.

This child was not only the result of the unconditional love between she and Jurina. Thanks to the progress of science these last decades, their baby had also received her genes from each of them. Would she inherit Jurina’s outgoing confident personality? Or would she be more introvert like her? There was no way to tell what kind of person their baby would grow into. However, Rena knew one thing with absolute certainty: she was going to cherish this child with all her heart.

“I have the strong feeling our Natsuki is going to be as breathtakingly beautiful as her mommy,” Jurina’s playful tone distracted her.

A smile plastered Rena’s face and she glanced back at her, reducing the distance between them. She leaned closer and carefully placed the baby inside Jurina’s arms, kissing the mother’s forehead in the process. “And I can’t wait to see her disarming smile,” Rena answered on the same light tone. “I just hope it won’t turn all the girls’ heads as her mama’s.”

“I don’t do that.” Jurina rolled her eyes, a smile nevertheless falling on her lips at the sound of Rena’s small laugh. “Come and lie next to me.”

Jurina scooted further away on the bed, and Rena nodded, carefully laying by her wife’s side. Rena rested her head against Jurina’s shoulder and contemplated the baby’s sleeping form, pressing a kiss to Jurina’s lips when her wife whispered to her a few words of love and affection. As a comfortable silence enveloped them, Rena released a long blissful sigh, and she gently reached for the baby’s hand, amazed by how small, soft and fragile it felt between her fingertips.

From the moment Rena crossed path with the one who would become her assistant, her life had never been the same anymore. She was happy; happier than she ever thought she could be. After marrying the one she loved, she was now going to have a family. Rena didn’t believe her life could possibly be more complete.

[sakuradragonrose]

Chapter Three

Some weeks had passed since the presentation.

Tadashi was still working on Baymax to make sure he was the perfect health care companion he wanted to be. Only this time it was without Masashi’s assistance. Much to his chagrin, Hiro was still Bot fighting and Masashi still went out with Professor Ackerman for coffee. Whenever they saw one another that week, they would but simply give a weak ‘Hello’ or ‘Hey’ and carry on their separate destinations.

On this particular heaving, Masashi didn’t know how but he actually agreed to go to a bot fight with the younger Hamada sibling heaving a heavy sigh. Luckily, Tadashi was running late with some errands for Hiro’s sake.

“How I let you drag me into this is beyond my understanding.” Masashi grumbled, waiting patiently for Hiro at the café entrance.

 “C’mon: Think of it as us bonding.” Hiro commented with a wide grin, grabbing his Megabot and controller. “We barely get to spend time together, you’re usually off with Tadashi.”

Masashi was already starting to feel guilty, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head as they snuck out avoiding his and Tadashi’s Aunt Cass. If Tadashi were here, there was no way they’d be doing this. No way. Nada. Zero. Zilch chance. And yet, why did he feel a tiny hint of excitement at the same time?

 He had never snuck out before in his life for anything. Well, he supposed there was that one time back in New York where he did sneak out with a school mate to some rock concert with a band performing they both really liked-learned his lesson after that when his mother found out…not a pretty picture-.

Man. Tadashi is going to kill me for letting Hiro go…wait. Why do I care how he’d react? I’m ticked at him still aren’t I?

 They soon found themselves in a dingy part of the city, Masashi scrunching up his face at the awful smell that flooded his nostrils reminding him strongly of feces and other unmentionable things no one should smell. “I do feel a little bit like an AWOL.” He muttered.

 Hiro grinned. “That’s the way to think of it.”

 A fist bump was shared between them as a little grin crossed Masashi’s face. Already they could hear shouts of excitement and sounds of bots clashing against one another. “You got the cash right?”

 “Yup.” Hiro held up a wad of it from his pocket. “You gotta pay to play.”

 “Not like this is the first you’ve dragged me here kid.” Masashi hissed, ignoring Hiro’s snicker.

 The place was full of nothing but thugs or people who…weren’t of nicest of neighbor hoods let’s say. He looked down at Hiro’s tiny robot and frowned thoughtfully, glancing at the two larger robots in the arena preparing for round two.

How Hiro was going to win with Megabot was beyond his understanding. The thing wouldn’t last but a second.

 The fighters were a pink haired/punk looking girl and the other was a larger fellow named Yama. The announcer grinned keeping her parasol spinning between them.

"Two bots enter, one bot leaves.”

 “Oh yeah: How’d your date with that Ackerman guy go?” Hiro whispered.

 “It was NOT a date.” Masashi whispered back, perhaps a little harsher than he intended to be. “It was only for coffee.”

 “The way Tadashi acted it sounded like you two went out together.”

 “…How upset was he?”

 Hiro shrugged, his eyes fixated on the Bot fight taking place noting the girl was kicking Yama’s butt pretty good at first. “He was kind of ‘moping’. Looked like a ‘little lost puppy’ according to Aunt Cass anyway: He’s been focusing his attention on your ‘nerd invention’ the whole week.”

Damn. I didn’t think it would bother him that much going with Professor Ackerman… Masashi bit the inside of his cheek letting out a weary sigh. “I knew this would happen,” he muttered. “We…kinda snapped at one another the night after our presentation ended.”

 “Ah he’ll get over it,” Hiro said with assurance. “You know how Tadashi is. He doesn’t stay mad at someone for too long.”

But this was a little different. The last thing he wanted, was to make Tadashi feel jealous over one evening with Ackerman. "Victor by Total Annihilation! YAMA!"

Yama was already boasting as he sneered at his fallen opponent’s robot, prideful of the girl’s crushed expression holding Little Yama up as if the Bot were a weapon. "Who's next? Who else has the guts to step into the ring with Little Yama!?"

“Can I try?”

 They all focused their attention on Hiro, a smile of that of ‘innocence’ plastered on his face with Masashi standing beside him holding Megabot in his hand. “I have a robot, I built it myself.”

This caused the crowd to roar with laughter. "Go home kid, house rules, you gotta pay to play." The female announce growled.

 “I have my money.” He showed a wad of cash he took out from the café.

 "What's your name little boy?" Yama asked with a smirk.

 “Hiro! Hiro Hamada.”

 Yama just laughed at him. "Prepare your bot ZERO."

 Masashi growled as a crowd began to form around the two competitors. As much as he hated to admit it, playing the role of a mere child of innocence seemed to be working on Hiro’s end…he just hoped that Yama was too stupid to figure it out.

"Two bots enter, one bot leaves. Fighters ready and… FIGHT!"

 Megabot began waddling over towards Little Yama, that stupid smiley face Hiro put on it seen clearly. It was only a second, not even a smidgen of a second, before the poor thing was literally tossed in the air by Little Yama sliced in half.

 Hiro gasped. "That was my first fight! Can I have another try?" Although he was devastated, Masashi could see the kid was pumping with adrenaline. Oh. Hiro was only starting. Yama had no idea what he was going to get himself into.

 "No one likes a sore loser little boy." Yama sneered, taking the boy’s wad of money counting it with greed. “Why don’t you take your little girlfriend and go home.”

Then. Something inside of Masashi seemed to snap. As soon as he heard Yama’s cronies snicker at the ‘girlfriend’ remark towards him, his hand balled into a tight fist after taking some of his work money out of his pocket, too pissed off at the current to care about it now slapping it in Hiro’s hand. “Make. Him. Pay.” He snarled out.

Just as the same as before, the announcer twirled her parasol in front of them. "Fighters ready!" She removed the parasol. “FIGHT!”

 Hiro’s once smaller controller grew into a semi bigger one surprising even the ‘almighty Yama’ himself as Megabot repaired itself. Masashi’s usually calm expression was now revealing a twisted, even what some might call ‘disturbing’ smirk clasping a hand on Hiro’s shoulder.

"Megabot… Destroy." The younger Hamada sibling commanded.

 Megabot’s cute yellow smile then turned into that of a red rage sneering look making a lunge for Little Yama. Yama was losing his cool as he tried to fend the smaller robot off Little Yama but it proved to be a futile attempt. Were Masashi and Hiro in their glory right now? Oh you better believe they were, watching Megabot duck and dodge with ease before finally dismembering Little Yama’s arms, legs and finally its head.

Yama stared mortified.

 "No more Little Yama." Hiro commented with a smirk, taking his money from the silver platter from the stunned announcer.

Masashi actually let out a tiny cheer, ruffling his friend’s hair grinning down at him. “Hiro you little genius! That was epic. Maybe I was wrong about you and Bot fighting after all.”

“Ah knock it off Masashi, you’re embarrassing me!” Hiro laughed.

 Yama stood however, towering over the now gulping younger ones.

 “Uh…Yama?”

 THUD

 Masashi let out a pained hiss when he was slammed against the wall by one of Yama’s goons and Hiro by Yama himself. "No one hustles Yama!" His face was a mixture of purple and red white hot anger taking Hiro’s Megabot.

 “Hey!” Hiro shouted, making a move to take back his robot but the others prevented him from doing so dropping the boys back onto their feet, Masashi rubbing the back of his head tenderly.

“Uh…Heh. C-Come on guys, fellas. Is there really a need for all this now?” Masashi tried, getting into a defensive position regardless knowing there was no use talking to a bunch of thugs. Five against two. Not exactly fair…then again when are bad guys fair right? “Well. Looks like we’re going to have to fight our way through little buddy.”

“Guess so…it was nice knowing ya Masashi.”

 A young man soon rides in on the scene with his moped, kicking a few of the thugs out of the way tossing each of the boys a helmet. “Hiro! Masashi get on!”

 “TADASHI!” Oh. Words cannot describe the relief they felt when Tadashi tossed them each a helmet. Tadashi and Masashi locked eyes with one another, both pursing their lips having not forgotten the night of their argument but now was not the time to dwell on such things. With Masashi in the front, holding onto Tadashi’s waist and Hiro in the back they sped out of the alley.

"Are you okay!?" Tadashi yelled over everything.

"Yes!"

"Are you hurt!?"

"NO!"

 "THEN WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?" Tadashi reached back to give Hiro a few good whacks, even some at Masashi tugging on his hair.

 “OW!”

 “This is abuse I tell you!”

 "You KNUCKLEHEADS!" He made a sharp turn down the alleyway.

 “Uh Tadashi: Our little friends are back!” Masashi cried, pointing at the raging bot fighters.

 “I know, I know!” He groaned, speeding up towards a ramp. “Hang on!” He sped up further, aiming for a piece of wood propped up by the dumpster. Masashi squeezed his eyes shut whereas Hiro cheered looking at his reflection.

 "Hiro, you graduated high school when you were thirteen, THIRTEEN! And Masashi: What the hell were you doing with him?! Don’t you realize you can get expelled? I thought you hated Bot fights!?”

"Bot fighting is NOT illegal, betting on it…" Hiro paused shrugging. "Yeah that's illegal but so lucrative. I'm on a roll big bro and so will Masashi and THERE IS NO STOPPING US!"

“You’re not my father Tadashi: I’m old enough to make my own choices.”

“If you WERE my son. Oh. I would give you such a spanking!” Tadashi hadn’t realized how wrong that actually sounded until crickets began chirping and Hiro and Masashi were both quiet. “…Not one word. From either of you.”

“I didn’t know big brother was into THAT.”

 “I said not one word Hiro!”

 Tadashi slowed to a stop as flashing lights came into view. The Hamada brothers and Masashi gulped.

 “Oh no…”

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Due to his age, Hiro was tossed in a cell with no others inside it waving shyly at a rather furious Tadashi and because it was so crammed in poor Tadashi’s cell Masashi was put with Hiro even though he was over age.

Oh Masashi could only imagine his father and Aunt Cass’s reactions when they learned of the news. Although Masashi had his own apartment and was pretty much an adult now that never stopped his mother from scolding him when he did something stupid.

A groan escaped his lips as he rested his head against the wall, shaking his head in disbelief. “A felon…I’m officially a felon. Mom’s going to kill me…”

“Masashi: You’re over dramatic side is showing again.” Hiro said, trying to be light about the situation. 

Masashi gave him a glare before palming his forehead. “I’m such an idiot! Now your brother probably disapproves of me even more. Worse than the Professor thing.”

“Are you kidding? Tadashi is more ticked at me I bet then he is you. Besides, the whole professor thing was completely innocent right?”

“It was. Nothing happened.” Masashi spoke loud and clear for Tadashi to get the hint across the room, watching Hiro’s older brother sigh heavily and press his forehead against the bars. His shoulders slumped.

So…they really did just go out as friends after all. Well don’t you feel like a complete ass Hamada?

“Hamada’s! Nishino: You three are out for bail!”

 “Oh thank God!” Masashi hopped up from the bench with Hiro chuckling at his reaction.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 Aunt Cass was a nervous wreck pacing outside the police station. Bot fighting. Illegal? Tadashi and even Masashi were arrested on top of everything! Were they encouraging Hiro into this? Those negative thoughts decreased however the minute she saw the trio walk sulking out of the building.

 "Oh thank goodness." She murmured, pulling all three of them in a hug. “Are you guys okay? Are you hurt?”

 “We’re fine Aunt Cass.” They said in unison.

 “Good…” Aunt Cass said in a sweet, mild mannered tone. Always the calm before the storm Masashi thought, swallowing as she then grabbed Tadashi and Hiro in a seemingly iron grip by their earlobes. “Then what were you knuckle heads thinking?!” While they were ‘pre-occupied’, Masashi had tried sneaking off but he yelped when Aunt Cass snatched the back of his jacket somehow.

 “Oh no mister: Don’t think you’re off the hook! You better be prepared for a good, long lecture from your mother on the phone tonight!” "For ten years!" She started as they drove home, poor Tadashi and Hiro holding onto their ears. "I've raised you, taken care of you as my own! Do I know anything about children!? No!”

And the ranting continued as the trio sulked behind the still ranting Aunt Cass, watching her un lock the door to the café. "Should I have picked up a book on parenting? PROBABLY!" She sighed out of frustration. “Where was I going with this?”

 'We're sorry." Tadashi said sincerely.

 “We love you Aunt Cass.” Hiro chimed in.

 “You’re like a second mom to me.” Masashi added.

 "Well I love you too!" She snapped at them, grabbing a donut from its case. "I had to close up early because of you felons-"

Masashi winced at the word, feeling Tadashi squeeze his shoulder in comfort.

"On Beat Poetry Night!" She continued to snap, waving the doughnut at them. "Stress eating! BECAUSE OF YOU! Mhmmm. This is really good! Come on Mochi.”

The trio watched as the Calico cat waddled off after the woman leaving the brothers and Masashi to sigh with relief that she was finally gone and made their trek up to Tadashi’s room.

[until-theend-oftheline]

Idiot Friends and Interrupted Kisses - Part 8: Thunder and Rain

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: We are not scared of Thor. Just not overly fond of what comes ahead of him.      

Squares Filled: Picnic for @goodthingshappenbingo and This entire series covers slow burn for @marvelfluffbingo

Word Count: 1300ish

A/N: This series is written for @barnesrogersvstheworld 3k challenge - I hope you enjoy it Attie. - This isn’t the end. We still got an epilogue to go guys :D 

Betaed by: @sebs-potato - thank you so much, Ida.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

IFaIK Masterlist

Bucky wanted perfect. You deserved perfect. He knew that he would never be that, but he could make sure the moment of your first kiss was. He wanted it to be something that you’d both be able to look back on with fond memories. Bucky didn’t have very many of those but a big part of the newer ones he did have, you were a part of.

Most of Bucky’s other friends still, to an extent, felt like they were his friends because he was Steve’s friend. Steve had been the only one he felt had chosen him and that choice had happened so long ago, he sometimes wondered if Steve felt a little stuck with the guy that had taken the old Bucky’s place.

You never knew the old Bucky, and you didn’t even have a deep connection to Steve. Bucky knew you admired him and saw him as a friend, but something about you was different. You seemed to have chosen Bucky before Steve. You were his friend first and that made you different from all the other team members. You were special to him. Even more so now. He wanted you to feel that.

Which was why he had spent the entire day visiting local little stores he knew you loved. He had been to the farmer’s market for fresh fruit and a selection of cheese. He has been to the bakery for cake and bread and he had even broken into Tony’s storage again for another bottle of wine. He knew that one was going to bite him in the ass eventually but he also felt as if Tony owed the two of you that much after interrupting the last date Bucky had planned for the two of you.

He had packed everything up in a basket and raided the common room of the compound for blankets before he knocked on your door. Bucky had sent you a text earlier to make sure you didn’t wander off with Wanda and Nat as you sometimes did on Saturdays. So when he knocked you opened the door wearing a flowery summer dress and a huge smile, completely taking Bucky’s breath away.

“Hi,” you greeted, laughing with Bucky’s very unsubtle and very unintelligent reply.

“Wow.” Bucky pulled a face, internally scolding himself. Of all the things he could have said and that’s what he went with.

“Thanks, Buck.” You smiled, taking his free hand, “you look pretty damn good yourself.”

Bucky smiled, blushing slightly when you threw him a little wink. Had it been anyone else giving a compliment like that he would have been sure they had been lying, but he knew you. He knew you’d never lie to him about anything. You had been brutally honest with him about anything under the sun. If you said you thought he looked good, you meant it. Which was also the reason he had worn his hair in the half updo, you had complimented the other night as well as a shirt Natasha had helped him pick out earlier.

“Where are we going Bucky?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze, clearly trying to prevent him from getting too far into his own head. You read him like a book which was one of the things he loved about you. You always seemed to know just what he needed and you never hesitated in stepping up.

“Just outside… Over the ridge, by the trees, I was thinking?” Bucky managed to get out, walking a little taller when you squeezed his hand again.

“That sounds great. It’s a beautiful day out” You sounded so happy and Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when he looked down into your eyes, shining up at him.

“Yeah. And hopefully idiot free,” Bucky grinned, holding the door open for you, making you laugh.

“Yeah. Let’s hope.”

Bucky led you through the field and over the ridge outside the compound, to the trees where he often found you reading in the summertime. This was your favorite place. Bucky knew that he just never knew why. So he asked you, after spreading out the blanket, unpacking the basket and sitting down across from you.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I can look down and see the compound and people working and training outside, but it’s hard for them to see me. It’s peaceful, but I still feel connected.”

Bucky suddenly felt bad, that he had followed you up here last summer and he lowered his head. He didn’t get to say anything through before you reached out giving his arm a squeeze.

“I feel at peace with you here too, Buck. I don’t mind sharing this spot with you. It’s nice to have a special place with you.” Your smile was so warm when Bucky looked up it felt as if he was being hit by the sun and he blushed a little again, causing you to giggle.

“I love this food. You really went all out,” you praised moving to lean against his side as you enjoyed one of the small cakes.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, holding you close.

“I feel at peace with you,” Bucky silently admitted, making you look up at him. He didn’t meet your eyes though. It was hard to look directly at you when he confessed things like this. “Not just up here. But everywhere. I don’t feel that often, but I do when I’m with you.”

“Oh, Bucky.” You reached up gently caressing his jaw and he finally looked down at you. It wasn’t pity in your eyes as he so often expected. Just love and adoration.

He slowly leaned down, rubbing his nose against yours. You giggled and he smiled widely as he kept looking into your eyes. He cupped your jaw, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb and he heard your heartbeat speed up. His was already racing as he leaned in and a loud crack of thunder suddenly sounded and it started pouring.

You squealed in surprise and the two of you pulled apart looking to the sky that had been clear and blue seconds ago. Lightning filled the sky and you started laughing, holding out your hands as your eyes stayed fixated on the sky.

“Looks like Thor stopped by for a visit,” you laughed.

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off you. The joy illuminated from you as you felt the fresh cool water on your skin. You were beyond perfect and suddenly Steve’s words rang through Bucky’s mind.

Maybe you shouldn’t look for the perfect moment. Maybe it being you and him is perfect enough.

“Screw it,” Bucky mumbled, before leaning closer to you again. He cupped your cheek with his hand, gently making you look at him.

“Buck…” you started, but before you could say anything else his lips were on yours. Kissing you sweetly. It took a second for you to catch up, but as soon as you did, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. You didn’t hesitate in letting him in when his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, silently asking for access.

The kiss went from sweet and hesitant to hot and passionate in seconds and you were both heaving for breath when you pulled back for air.

“Wow,” you muttered making Bucky laugh and he tenderly tucked your wet hair behind your ear.

“Maybe we should head home?” Bucky suggested and a mischievous smile spread across your face, making his heart skip yet again.

“Only if we can keep doing this.” You grinned before leaning in, kissing him again.

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