#like yeah it might not really be something I’d be proud of giving my family or friends

[katierosefun]

did you know that cooking yourself is actually a good idea because whoaaaaaa

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

Hey! For your Miles requests, I'd love to read about what it might be like for the reader to watch Miles transfer to Visions if they both went to Brooklyn Middle together.

Not This Time

Miles Morales x fem!reader

Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Requested: yes

A/N: GUYS PARTICIPATE IN MY 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL PLEASE also hope you guys enjoy electro because I had to make something up.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“You’re not gonna forget me right?” You wondered. 

It was the last week of summer and you were clinging to the last few days you had left with Miles. Sitting on his building’s rooftop you stared down at the Brooklyn you’ve known your whole life. You and Miles were the fastest of friends since your first day at Brooklyn Middle you genuinely couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day. You were still proud of him, however. Getting into Visions was a pretty big deal. 

“Why would you ask me that?” He glanced at you offended. 

You simply shrugged, pulling your knees up to your chest. ��I dunno, you’ll go and make new friends and I won’t be so important anymore,” 

“No,” He shook his head, turning to face you. “That would never happen,” 

You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact. 

 “I’d never forget you,” He promised. 

The first week of freshman year was finally over. It wasn’t as bad as your middle school teachers tried to make it seem, you’d made a couple of new friends, and none of your teachers were mean.

Realizing you hadn’t spoken to Miles yet today you pulled your phone out to message him. 

you: how was your first week? 

miles: my science teacher was on my ass but my roommates not bad

miles: he doesn’t talk much 

you: i told you, you’d be fine

you: wanna go the end show w/me tonight in golconda

you: it’s at 7 

miles: im sorry I cant :( too much hw 

you: oh no don’t worry maybe next time

Putting your phone back down on your desk with a huff you tried not to feel disappointed. There would be other opportunities to hang out. It’s not like this was the end of your friendship. 

The excuses and cancellations only grew in numbers. Soon you’d gone from seeing Miles every day to barely holding a virtual conversation once a week. 

You weren’t going to sit around and wait for the crumbs of attention Miles was willing to give you. This would not be a one-sided relationship, you had too much self-respect for that. 

But just because you weren’t actively talking doesn’t mean you didn’t care. You’d just care from afar. 

—————-

You weren’t one to watch the news but the TV was open to Channel 12 when you made it home from running errands. Placing your grocery bags on the couch something compelled you to tune in. 

Seeing PDNY cars surrounding a crazed man wielding what looked to be lightning bolts sent you into a state of controlled panic. You practically sped to Miles’s apartment to check on Mr. Morales. 

He wasn’t there when you got to the apartment but Rio informed you he was okay and she’d just spoken to him on the phone.  

Letting out a sigh of relief you relaxed your shoulders. Slumping to sit down next to her on the couch she gave you a once-over 

“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. How’s high school?” She asked, now getting a better look at you. 

“It’s definitely different,”

“We’ve missed you around here, Miles has been acting so different lately, he’s not my little boy anymore,” She sighed wistfully. 

“I miss you guys too,” You pouted.

 You didn’t want to get emotional but you really did miss your second family. And you weren’t trying to take it personally but Miles avoiding you truly hurt. “It’s so weird not seeing Miles anymore,” 

“Seeing him a couple times a week must be very different from every day,”

A couple times a week? You hadn’t seen him at all this month. Even if you were pissed at him you didn’t want him in trouble so you just agreed. 

“Yeah, I’m still not used to it.” 

You weren’t leaving until you saw for yourself that Mr. Morales was okay. Your stubbornness and unwillingness to take things as you’re told kept you from being able to fully believe Mrs. Morales’s promise of her husband’s safety. Anything could’ve happened between their phone call and now. 

Waiting on the couch listening to Mrs. Morales talk about work and her conniving coworkers. You felt the most at peace as you’ve had in a while. 

The peace didn’t last long as Miles came bursting through the front door adorning his red and black jacket with oversized sweats and his backpack slung over his shoulder. Mrs. Morales immediately stood up and moved towards him, the picture of concern. 

“Mijo, what’s wrong, what are you doing here it’s a school night?” 

Instead of answering her he just threw himself into her arms and wilted into her chest. 

From your place on the couch, you couldn’t hear the muffled conversation or anything at all, which only amplified your worry. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You found yourself calling out standing from your spot on the sofa. 

The sound of your voice snapped him out of his reprieve. Miles pulled his head from the crook of his mother's neck. He let his eyes roam over you attempting to assess if you were real or not. 

Once he decided his eyes weren’t deceiving him he practically launched himself into your arms. 

You stumbled back with the force of his weight and despite your anger and confusion, you hugged him back. 

Evidently, something was wrong but he wasn’t going to talk about it anytime soon. You tried to hold out and let him feel his emotions but- 

“Miles,” You wheezed out into his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you the slightest bit but didn’t let you go. 

“Sorry,” He muttered to the top of your head. “Missed you so much,” 

“Missed you too,” 

As much as you loved Mrs. Morales, she was a chismosa and every conversation was not for her ears. 

“Let’s go outside,” You suggested grabbing his arm to pull you with him. 

You hadn’t made the climb to the water tower in a while and you weren’t as fit as you were a month ago. Trying to hide it out of embarrassment you switched the topic. 

“You cold?” You asked panting as you found your footing. 

“What?” He questioned looking down at himself.

 As if he just discovered the zip-up he was wearing he answered. “Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s really chilly out here,” 

Even without the years of knowing Miles under your belt, you would’ve known he was lying but you didn’t feel like starting an argument the first time you saw him in a while so you just dropped it. 

The two of you easily fell back into the swing of things as if there were never any distance between the two of you. You were glad to be talking again, now knowing his issue wasn’t due to anything you’d done. 

He was catching you up on everything you’d missed in his life when he went ghost on you, but he still wasn’t hinting at what was bothering him. He was using you as an alibi and not even telling you, it was so unlike him. 

Even his mom noticed a change in his behavior so why wouldn’t he just talk to you? You had to bring it up or you’d regret it once you’d gotten home. 

“You know you can tell me anything right?” 

He hummed in acknowledgment.

 You should be furious he’d ghosted you for so long. And now he won’t even talk to you? but looking at him now he looked so upset and broken you couldn’t feel anything besides concern. 

“Miles please, tell me what’s going on,” You begged. “We tell each other everything,” It was true you even told him when you had started your first period the summer before 7th grade. You never felt the need to hide anything from each other. So why start now? What happened between the start of high school to now to make him stop trusting you? 

“Is it me? Can you just not tell me?” You attempted to rationalize his behavior. 

“It’s not you,” He promised. 

“So then talk to me please,” You whined. 

“I can’t tell you. Not this time,” 

The last person to learn he was Spider-Man died. In the same month, he watched Spider-Man and his uncle die in right front of him. All his other friends left him and maybe it was selfish but you were the only one he had left. He refused to lose you or have you look at him differently. Maybe telling you would lift some of the burden of having a secret identity as just a child, but he couldn’t risk it. Not this time. Not with you.

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Fourth part to Intertwining Threads of Gold, based on a prompt by @time-for-a-grandkid-round-up.

The one where Mirabel becomes matriarch.

With Isabela grounded and Mirabel being a cause for concern, Bruno, Luisa and Dolores try to workout what is going on.

Previous part of ITOG.

Next part of ITOG.

Comments are always appreciated.

~~~~~~

Intertwining Threads of Gold IV

Bruno sat down with a yawn. “Well, yesterday was a bit unexpected, wasn’t it? I mean, I would have said something if I’d seen it coming, I promise, hermana… Are you doing okay, Juli? Have you spoken to both girls yet? Gotten to the bottom of it? I have to say, Isabela is taking this grounding thing better than I thought she would. Though if I knew Luisa was hunting me down, I’d probably hide away in my room too.”

“I’m Mirabel, Tío.”

Bruno jumped a little, doing a double take.

“I… I knew that,” he said. “I know which one you are. I can tell you two apart.”

Mirabel didn’t say anything in response. To be fair, she was busy playing a game of chess with Dolores, who also remained in silent concentration.

The pair were equally matched in intelligence and their matches (though rare) were incredibly precise and tedious to watch. Bruno cleared his throat after a moment, getting bored.

“So… about yesterday?” He ventured.

“Yes?” She inquired, not taking her eyes off the game.

“Your leg didn’t look great.”

“It’s fine. I was healed.”

“It was pretty torn up. Like, really bad.”

“I know. I saw; I felt it.”

“You fainted twice.”

“I can’t really help being squeamish.”

“Isabela seemed pretty upset.”

“I don’t know why that was.”

“I think I do. She’s been very against this matriarch thing recently.”

Mirabel looked up at that.

“Is there something we should know?” He asked.

“About what?” She questioned, sounding nervous.

“Just… Has Isabela said or done anything else to you that we should know about?” Bruno clarified. “I know, she’s your sister and you don’t want to make her look bad, but we kinda need to know what we’re telling her off for, you know? And we don’t want her putting any doubts in your head. We know it’s—”

“Pass it to me, hermanito!”

“You keep cheating, Camilo!”

He looked away, briefly distracted by whatever game Antonio and Camilo were playing outside, Mirabel took in a sigh of relief.

“No. This is the first time Isabela has spoken to me about this. I’m sure it’s nothing and it will pass, but I’ll let you know if she does so again.” She answered, gently.

Bruno nodded. “Thanks, kid. Sorry for distracting you. You can carry on with your chess match now.”

Well. That was easy.

He had gotten Mirabel to talk - honestly Julieta and Agustín make it sound like it’s impossible, they are so dramatic - and she’d promised to let him know if Isabela got out of hand again.

He was proud of himself.

Dolores hummed, teasingly. “Careful, primita. You might actually have to use one of your other pieces if something happens to your last pawn.”

“It is only a worthless piece. I doubt the others will care about the thing if it died,” Mirabel muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I heard you—”

“I was just thinking out loud, prima.”

“I swear to God, if you’re giving the pieces feelings now—”

Mirabel took Dolores’ queen.

“Your turn, Dolores.” She said, quietly.

The older grumbled, “That was my favourite piece.”

Satisfied that she was okay, Bruno pulled himself back on to his feet to go brag reassure to his sister.

He stopped in the doorway though, knocking on the wall for Mirabel’s attention as he poked his head back in.

“Just in case Isabela is making you doubt yourself, just remember that we picked you to be the next matriarch for a reason. You are exactly what this family needs.”

Mirabel nodded slowly, eyes misty. “Thank you, Tío.”

Yeah, he was very proud of himself.

He makes his way towards the kitchen wanting to reassure Julieta and Agustín that Mirabel was okay after that successful conversation. Maybe it isn’t just Luisa who has the superpower of getting Mirabel to open up.

Maybe he should try speaking to Isabela too.

~~~~~~

“We need to talk about Isabela.”

Luisa rolled her eyes. “Don’t you start as well. I’m not apologising to that bitch. She deserved it. She hurt Mirabel. Mira’s leg was completely mangled.”

“Not about that, which we have already told you several times was an accident and you slapping her in the face was uncalled for,” Dolores corrected. “I meant, we need to talk about Mirabel and the matriarchy. I’m starting to think Isa was right.”

She didn’t get time to argue as her cousin had already invited herself into her room and sat down beside her on the bed.

“You’re wrong.” Luisa says. “Mirabel wants to be matriarch. She has said so herself.”

“Lying and acting—”

“Aren’t skills Mirabel has.”

“Being in denial then?”

“She would have told me.”

“You know what she’s like—” Dolores tried.

“She would have told me.” Luisa insisted, firmly.

Luisa hoped that Dolores would get up and go.

Who was she to tell her about her sister anyways? Doesn’t she have her own younger siblings to look after? Isn’t one of them literally in a mood at the minute about this whole matriarchy thing?

“What if we’re looking at this the wrong way?” Dolores pondered, out loud.

“I told you already, she isn’t—”

“I know. Maybe Mirabel does want to be the matriarch and that is the truth. But why? Because she certainly didn’t give a damn about governing beforehand. And I’d venture that she still doesn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Now that I think about it… I haven’t ever heard her talk about what she plans to do with her future.” Dolores looked up at Luisa. “Do you know?”

“No, I… I generally have no idea.” Luisa answers.

“Hmm. Maybe we should work that out first. Let’s check her room.”

Luisa hadn’t said anything against it. Dolores was already up and heading to the door, so she just followed after.

But then they veer off to the lone ordinary door and Dolores flashes her a brief thumbs up.

“She’s in? That’s good.”

“What? No. She is out with your parents.”

“Then why would you give me a thumbs up?”

“Letting you know the coast was clear.”

“Wait… we’re not actually gonna—”

Too late.

Dolores had already opened the door and slipped inside.

Luisa awkwardly glanced around - nobody was there - before following Dolores in and quickly shutting the door behind them.

“What exactly are we looking for?” She asked.

“A diary or a journal; just a book she writes in,” Dolores said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Without looking up, she pulled open the desk drawer and began scrambling through the papers. “I know she keeps one. I’ve heard her mention it. We just need to find it.”

While Dolores ransacked that, Luisa herself took charge of the drawer underneath the window-seat.

Luisa scoffed lightly. Perfectly organised. One side was several balls of yarn and knitting needles, then a collection of bobbins and a lidless pot of tiny, silver needles, a few embroidery rings and some blank folded squares of fabric.

“Are you having any luck?” Dolores inquired. “Because I’m not— Christ, she writes tons. All of this is just one essay… how can there be so much to say on whoever Anna Komnene is?”

The strongest smiled. “She loves her history. But yeah, writes a lot. That whole drawer will probably be school work then. This one is all sewing equipment.”

Dolores huffed, moving onto the next drawer.

“Great. Sheet music.” She held up one of the pages for Luisa. “Which one of her instruments do you reckon it’s for?”

“Couldn’t tell you. I can’t read sheet music. That all means nothing to me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t— I’m sorry? You can’t read sheet music? We were both in the choir together. How the hell did you know what to sing?”

“I read the words? Is that not what you were doing? Why is this so shocking? Isabela, Camilo and Tío Bruno can’t read music either.”

Dolores looked somehow personally offended by that.

“I can’t believe I’m related to you four.” She put the page away. She carried on to the next few drawers. “Books… For God’s sake. The rest are all filled with books. Why? They aren’t even fiction—”

“I said she liked her history.” Luisa smirked.

“Well, one of these must be a diary.” Dolores remarked.

Luisa took a seat on the bed as Dolores started checking each of the books individually.

She’d have to apologise to Mirabel later.

Soon enough, a book was tossed into Luisa’s lap - noticeably thinner and smaller than the other ones, alongside lacking a title and author. Instead, just a patterned cover, with the year in bold.

“You actually found it,” Luisa exclaimed in disbelief. “This makes me think you’ve done this before.”

“No. The rest of you don’t keep diaries. It’s just myself, Camilo and Mirabel.”

Luisa hesitated.

“Well, go on. If one of us has to read it, she’d rather it be you.” Dolores prompted. She sat down on the desk chair, waiting.

“Here’s hoping it’s just book reviews,” Luisa muttered.

She carefully opened the little book, not wanting to break it accidentally. Sure enough, it was Mirabel’s neat, pretty handwriting inside.

However… It was more informational than she thought a diary would be.

There was none of the ‘dear diary’ stuff or ranting about something in the day, it was just a list of dates. Homework Mirabel had to complete, things she needed more of (pens, thread), birthday present ideas…

She flicked a few pages further in, going further into the year, starting to laugh.

“What? What is it?” Dolores asked.

Wiping away a tear, she silently handed the book to Dolores, who (in spite of the humble show of giving it to Luisa before) practically snatched it out of her hand eagerly.

“I thought a diary was out of character for Mira,” Luisa said. “This type of ‘book to write in’ makes a lot more sense.”

Dolores threw the book in frustration, knocking over a basket. Luisa only laughed more, getting up go fix the thing.

The older sighed, “I just want to be done with this whole matriarch thing. It was suppose to be something so good and now it is just a mess, another mess I am so sick of hearing about. I should’ve learned by now that nothing ever shuts up when I want it to.”

Luisa picked up a cloth that had fallen out of the basket and she sighed too. Only, by lifting the corner, the rest of it unraveled itself to be a somewhat unfinished, small tapestry.

Depicting a blue-green hummingbird having its wings torn off by claw-like hands, each claw a different colour.

Neither said anything.

“Well… that’s unsettling.” Dolores mused, eyeing it warily.

“Why would she have made this?” Luisa questioned.

“I know Padre Flores asked her to repair some of the church tapestries a few weeks back.” She informed. “I can’t think of what Bible story this relates to though.”

“…Because it’s not about someone from the Bible.”

“What do you mean?”

Luisa laid out the tapestry on the desk.

“That’s us, the family. It’s our colours as the claws,” she pointed. She swallowed guiltily, before moving her finger to the teal thread, “And that’s Mirabel, losing her freedom.”

[fandom-chic]

The Time We Lost: Chapter 4

Summary: 40 years have passed since you saw Soldier Boy. Yet here he was at your door. With so many things having changed, will you two be able to withstand the modern world?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Y/N

*JAMIE’S POV*

“Are you there yet?”

“Yeah, I just got to 5th and 81st; how long will I be waiting here?” Jamie says into the phone. The Manhattan crowds shove past him, acting as if a 6’3” wall of a man is not there. That is the main difference between Manhattan and Brooklyn, the number of people.

“Not long, Hughie, and I won’t take too much time.” Jamie could swear he heard Butcher’s lighter click on the other line. He shuddered at the idea of Billy’s plan, but it had to be done. After that day in the hospital, Jamie knew he had to take action into his own hands. His mother was dying. If there was a solution to this, he had to try and find it. 

The plan wasn’t too complicated. On the contrary, it was straightforward: save the family from the burning building. He did this daily at his job. He knew it would just be another day in the office; however, this felt different. Usually, he only took his own life into his hands, but today, his mother was counting on him. No pressure, right?

“Alright, just give me the signal when you’re ready.” Jamie heard a dark chuckle on the other line.

“Oh, you will definitely get a signal.” Jamie could swear he heard Butcher smirking on the other line. Fuck that guy. Jamie lightly kicked an empty soda can in frustration, watching it fly a little farther than he wanted it to. Sometimes he forgets his strength, but here he was, planning to show it to the world. Letting himself finally fall onto the path his father had followed.

That might be why his mother was so protective of him. Jamie leans against a bodega, watching the people walk by as he remembers that conversation with his mother all those years ago.

He was barely sixteen when he came home from school with a giant smirk. Y/N could not help but smile back at her son as he seemed to glide into the yard.

“Well, someone had a good day at school,” She says, shutting her book. “What’s got you smiling so much?”

“I did a really good thing today.” He sounded excited, overjoyed about what had happened that day.

“What may that be?” She says, trying to match his energy.

“You know that kid Martin? The one in my English class who gets the shit beat outta him every other day? Well, today, they got a taste of their own medicine.” Immediately, Y/N’s smile dropped. Jamie’s was still plastered on his face as he continued, “Mom, I think it’s time I make something of myself. I want to follow my dad’s footsteps and try out for Vought-” 

“No.” The thought had barely left his lips before Y/N shut him up. There was a beat before the inevitable question came up.

“Why not?” He asked.

“Jamie, we’ve talked about this. Being a full-time hero is extremely dangerous.” Y/N wanted to add the caveat that it’s what got his father killed, but Jamie already knew that.

“And that’s why I’d be so good at it! I’m basically indestructible.” He hits himself in the chest to prove to Y/N that he wasn’t stretching the truth.

“Jamie, it’s a no, and that’s final,” Y/N said, her voice cutting at the final syllable. Jamie takes a step toward his mother.

“Mom, it’s what I’m meant to do. I want to be like my dad. He was the greatest supe of all time, and I want to live up to him. I want to make him proud. Please?” Jamie was pleading, wishing with everything in his heart for this dream to come true. But it didn’t seem to be in the cards for him.

“How many times must I tell you that the answer is no? Do you want to wind up dead like your father? Do you want to make your loved ones constantly fear for your life? The answer better be no, or you’re no son of mine.” And at that, the conversation was truly over. Jamie could feel tears coming into his eyes as he ran past his mother into the house, slamming the front door behind him.

From that day forward, there was a rift between Jamie and Y/N. Things were said that couldn’t be unsaid. The day Jamie turned 18, he left home and kept to his mother's wishes but on his terms. That’s how he ended up becoming a firefighter. Still saving people, but he wasn’t a supe. Although, he was a hero by a technicality. 

Jamie sighed as he stared at the silhouette of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. True, Brooklyn was superior to Manhattan, but The MET truly was glorious. He took a deep breath then, focusing on what was about to happen any minute now. He looked away from The MET to the apartment building a block away. That building was the target. There were people in that building that he was going to save. This would be the day that things looked up for him. 

Almost as if on cue, Jamie heard an explosion erupt from the top story of the apartment complex. All heads shot to the building as screaming and running began. 

Showtime. 

Jamie ran against the grain of the foot traffic, taking massive strides toward the fire. He made it in no time at all. He stopped and looked up, taking in the situation. It was a relatively big fire, but it was controlled. Easy. When initially assessing this building with Billy and Hughie, they realized there were only four families in this medium-sized townhouse. He will have the families in and out within five minutes. 

Jamie’s sprint quickened as he approached the front door. It didn’t take much force to break it down. He almost flew inside as he went to the top floor. The door opened with ease as it was already half broken. Inside, a small child was cowering in his mother’s arms. Jamie approaches them.

“I’m here to save you!” He yells over the sound of flames smacking the walls. The woman nodded and gave her child to Jamie. Her little arms held on tight to him as the woman grabbed his arm. He knew she would only slow him down, so he scoops her onto his back. Once she is secured, he runs out of the apartment and the building. When he has returned outside, he notices that groups of people have started to form near the building, watching his heroism. All he could think about was how smoothly this was going. As if all the pieces were falling into place. 

That was until he heard a crack.

At this point, there was only one person left in the building. He could see her in the window as the flames seemed to sneak up behind her. Her tears were staining her cheeks as she watched his attention turn. There was another crack, this time louder. That was when the building began to fall. There was no way he would be able to make it inside. If he were to save the woman, the building would land on the people in the crowd. If he didn’t save the one woman… what was the point of all of this? He was stuck, and he had no way to get unstuck.

Well, he did have one. And that was when the building’s base cracked in half and fell. He couldn’t be stuck anymore. Suddenly, the weight of the world is on his back. Usually, objects weren’t heavy, almost like picking up stuffed animals, but this was different. He could feel himself falter under a new level of weight. Everything seemed to freeze as the building lay on his back, but his mind was racing. He had to put it down, or he would die. 

And that was when he took all the effort left in him to shout, “Move!” And the crowd parted like the Red Sea. That was the new home of the carcass of this building. Once it made a home on the rugged ground, he grabbed the woman from the building. It was over. He did it. And he managed to get the front page shot with the beautiful damsel in his arms, carrying her into safety.

It took less than a day for Vought to find him. He was back at the fire station, going through the motions of a typical day—just an average Joe Hero. The red-headed woman who entered had a flustered energy. One that immediately brought his attention to alert.

“You’re the Brownstone Hero, right?” She exclaims.

“I guess I am,” Jamie says, giving a knowing laugh.

“Ashley Barrett,” Her hand shoots out for him to shake, “Director of Talent Relations at Vought.” Vought. Perfect. He shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Ashley. I’m Jamie.” He let go of her hand, but she held on.

“Let’s cut the formalities,” That was when she pulled her hand away, “The Seven is in desperate need of a new member, and we want it to be you.” It was like taking candy from a baby.

“Wow,” Feigning shock was not difficult, “I can’t believe this is happening.” Ashley's smile was like a statue trying to break marble that had been there for thousands of years.

“Your interview is at 2:00 PM,” It was currently 9:00 AM. “Don’t be late.” And she was gone. 

It wasn’t long until Jamie found himself seated in front of a set of familiar faces. The Seven. They were exactly like he expected. He smiled to himself.

“And that is why we think you should join The Seven.” Jamie had not listened to a word Starlight had said. He knew he was a shoe-in. 

“This is all so exciting,” They are all eating his bullshit, “I don’t know what to say,” Almost all of them.

“Say yes, dude!” The Deep exclaimed.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted, but I feel like there’s something you all should know,” Jamie looks over at Ashley as she stares daggers at him over her laptop. “And it may impact whether you want me or not.”

“What’s the fucking caveat?” Maeve said, crossing her arms.

“My dad is Solider Boy.” The whole room lit up, and he was signed. 

“Guess you’re the new Solider Boy!” Starlight says through a smile. They were all smiles, except one man. Jamie turned to see Homelander’s glare deepen. If only he knew what he had gotten himself into.

Taglist:

@nt-multi-fandom

@globetrotter28

@bowlegsandbiceps

@bronze-metal

@Minaxcarter

@diasnohibng

@xxemoluverxx

@lacilou

@Siospins2

@emily-roberts

@danart501

@shaggzthatsnottheworm

@aerangi

@calsjack

@floraroselaughter

[jmagnabo92]

GGSB Fest 2024 - What's In A Name?

@goodgodfathersiriusblack

Prompt - Harry takes Sirius' name.

Harry decides he wants to honor Sirius by taking his name.

AO3

***

Harry does what he always does when he’s nervous.  He cooks. 

Specifically, he’s cooking Sirius’ favorite dinner in an attempt to butter him up.  Not that he needs to, exactly, it’s just… well, in light of the defeat of Voldemort at the DOM, and Sirius giving him the home that he always wanted, he had decided on something to honor Sirius and frankly, he wasn’t sure how Sirius would handle it.  

Would he be happy?  Or would he hate it?  

Given Sirius’ distaste for his family, he’s not too sure what the outcome might be, and it worries him. 

So, he’s hoping his favorite dinner will help him… react well.  

Because Harry really wants this – more than anything.  

“Hey kid, what’s all this?” Sirius asks, as he enters the kitchen.  

Harry smiles, still nervous as he plates their dinner and sits across from him.  “Well, I wanted to do something special for you.  Now that we can be a family.”

“Aw, kid, I should be doing this for you, then,” Sirius says as they begin eating.  

“You’ve already done enough –”

“If I’d done enough, you wouldn’t be the one that is doing this for me, I’d be doing it for you.”

Harry sighs.  “Well, true, but I did this for a reason, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I have something I wanted to ask you.”

Sirius furrows his brow.  “You don’t have to butter me up, whatever it is… you can just ask.”

Harry sighs.  “Er, well, I wasn’t sure how’d you take the request… and thought something nice would help.”

“Alright, then, ask whenever you’re ready.”

Harry nods and sets his fork down.  “You’ve done so much for me over the last couple of years.  You were the only adult that I could count on and now, you’ve taken in me after defeating Voldemort in the DOM…”

“Because I love you, kid, more than anything.”

“And I love you, too.  Which is why I want to honor you somehow.  I want people to know what you mean to me.”

“I – what exactly are you asking me?” Sirius asks, confused and uncertain.

“I want to take your name,” Harry states.  “I want to become Harry James Potter-Black.  I want you and everyone to know that I am your kid and proud of it.”

Sirius looks stunned and for a second, Harry thinks the worst, and looks down at his food.  

He hopes that he hasn’t ruined anything.  

But then a second later, Sirius reaches across the table and squeezes his hand causing him to look up.  Sirius has tears in his eyes.  “I’d be honored.”

“Really?” Harry asks, excitement filling his gut.  “You’d be okay with it?”

“I love it, I mean – I’m not sure I’ve earned such an honor, but I love it,” Sirius answers, sincerely.  “It’s… names in the wizarding world mean so much…”

“I know, and that’s why I want to do it,” Harry states.  “Because I feel like you’ve earned it and I feel like it would tell everyone how much you mean to me.”

Sirius grins.  “It would and if that’s what you really want – I’d be honored to add my name to yours.”

“Good.”

[awaytobeunshaken]

Angstpril 2023 - Day 28: Loss

Beau hears the creak of wood as another body slips into the barstool beside her. She takes a long swig of the drink she’s been nursing and turns to tell them to fuck off, until she recognizes the face she’s looking at. Fuck. Caleb. “I guess Yasha told you?”

He nods. “You left your sending stone on the nightstand. It’s too bad; I’m sure you would have preferred to tell me to fuck off from a distance, rather than face-to-face.”

“I’m not gonna tell you to fuck off, Caleb.”

“Good, because I wasn’t planning to.”

He was absolutely the fucking worst. Generally, but also particularly in this situation. “Caleb, I don’t need you to try to, like, help me deal with this, or whatever. That wouldn’t be fair to you. And that’s not me telling you to fuck off, it’s giving you a way out. No harm, no foul.”

“I know I don’t need to be here. But I’d like to be. He was your father. And I know he was not the father you deserved, and I’m not going to fault however you might be feeling about this.”

“That’s just it, I’m…” Why was she having this conversation in the middle of the bar? “Dude, can we move this to a booth or something?”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Anyway, that’s the thing,” she continues once they’re settled into an out-of-the-way corner of the room. “I feel like… I should be feeling something, whether it’s sadness or anger or relief, but there’s just nothing there. I was angry, for a long time, and then, I guess, once he got out of prison… he was just there. Didn’t have any impact on my life anymore. So in a way, nothing’s changed. So why should I feel anything about it?”

He’s got a look on his face that Beau’s known for years; rolling thoughts around in his head, biting his tongue on a first impulse: talents that Beau has worked to improve in herself over time but never fully mastered. “I think, when someone has had that sort of influence on a life, thinking of them at all almost feels like they’ve won.” Caleb’s eyes are far away, and Beau knows he’s not really talking about her father anymore.

“Is that how you felt when— when Trent… I mean, I know it’s not the same at all but…”

“I could never fully escape the stain he left, could I? But that’s all right; it was never for me. I think you’ve managed it, though. You should be proud; perhaps that’s the feeling that you’re looking for.”

Her first instinct is to push back, encourage him, but the words would sound hollow. He’s not being self-deprecating, only honest. The past was in the past, and he’d chosen to leave it there. And something had lifted in her chest when he said ‘proud’. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe that’s it. Thanks, man.”

“Will you go to the funeral.”

She nods. “Yeah. I should for Mom and T.J. at least.”

“And then after, how about I bring everyone to Rumblecusp for a few days. You deserve to spend some time with family.”

And the way he said ‘family’, so matter-of-factly, like it wasn’t the people she came from, but the people she loved the most… she felt her heart lift just a little more.

ao3

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter)- Ch. 14: All That And A Big Pointy Hat

I’m almost done with my goodness 201 class! Today we learned about doing declutter spells for the needy, and FG was pleased to give me an A after she heard about how I helped Ben.

“He came in yesterday telling me how good did with cleaning his room! I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, Magica!” She gives me a warm smile.

I thank her for her praise and quickly get back to my dorm to find Twilight waiting to greet me on my bed.

“Good cat, good cat,” I praise as I stroke the purring kitty. “At least you care.”

“What happened now?” Binx calls from the windowsill.

I sigh. “Ben apparently needs to tell Fairy Godmother every little detail of what magic I’m doing. Like they’re keeping tags on a criminal.”

“They only want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says. Ben, my father… But what is best for me? To be constantly watched like a spider under a microscope? I’m not a child, Binx.”

“I know that. I must say, they are being rather skittish about you compared to the other magical students.”

I get up and wedge mother’s spellbook out from behind the dresser, then start to flip through it.

“What’s that for?”

“Something that might help me get out of this dreary place, or just something that’ll make life more fun. This mud spell looks promising. You know if I wanted to I could just put on my invisible cloak and slip out of here with no problems.”

Twilight gives a jabbing meow, and Binx nods. “I agree with Twilight. If you could, then why don’t you?”

After letting out an annoyed huff and slipping the spellbook into my pocket, I go over to look out the window next to Binx.

“Because that would mean I’d never get to see Carlos again. If I leave then the Royal Guard would look for me again, so I’d be on the run. Besides, it’s not only Carlos I’d miss. Ben needs all the help he can get, and I’m helping Jane to find new friends. I don’t love it here, but I don’t hate it either.”

Down below I see everyone else flocking to the dining hall, and I know I can’t put off any more time. 

After starting off towards the door, Binx asks: “Where off to now?”

“The Royal Advisor has to head off to lunch, and then attend a meeting with Ben to discuss the upcoming family day.”

“Good luck,” Binx says in a dull voice.

“Hm. Thanks.”

When I get to the dining hall I see that Jane has chosen to sit with Lonnie, Tiffany, and a few others, so I leave her to sit with her new popular friends and go to a table off in a corner. Looking around, most of the other tables are full. But I don’t see…?

“Hey, trixie!”

Jay and Carlos pop up behind me and trot around to plop into the seats across from me, and then Dude hops up next to Carlos.

“Mind if we join you?” Carlos asks shyly.

I shrug. “Sure, if you don’t mind hanging out with the goody-goody Royal Advisor who’s about as see-through as glass.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has Ben been acting strange around you guys?” 

Both boys shake their heads, then seem to rethink.

“Actually, he gets really dopey around Mal,” Jay thinks out loud.

I frown. “Strange… Not only that, but you guys seem to be hiding something too.”

Carlos scratches Dude’s ears. “Mal can be… very stubborn when she wants to be. She has a good heart, but her mom always discourages it. She probably won’t like me telling you this, but… I feel like you deserve a chance to rule the world with us.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with Mal being the leader and whatnot. But it’s like she’s- wait. What did you say? Carlos, how are you going to rule the world?” My eyes widen.

Jay gives Carlos a warning look, but Carlos just glares back.

“If no one’s gonna tell her, I will!” He leans in and whispers: “We’re going to-”

“Well, if it isn’t the freak and her freak friends!” Audrey cackles. She and Chad stride by and set their food trays down, giving us pitiful looks. “Aw, poor freak. All alone in a corner with more freaks. Shame that Jane’s popular now- you two were getting along so well!”

Way to rub it in, Audrey.

“Hey, um, foxie? Could ya scoot and leave us to eat in peace without having to hear your shrieking?” Jay asks in a pompous tone.

While Audrey and Jay get into a squabble, Dude starts distracting Chad by biting his shoes. Carlos watches me take out some magic powder from a pouch and dust it over some raspberries on my plate.

I take a quick peak at mom’s spellbook and chant: “With berries tart and red as blood, turn this dessert into mud,” I mutter as I sprinkle the crushed raspberries on top of Chad and Audrey’s pudding. Sure enough, the spelled berries dissolve into the chocolate dessert and turn it into a darker, thick substance. Mud. 

By now Audrey’s had enough of Jay’s behavior and drags Chad back to the popular kids’ table.

Jay gives me a wide grin. “Did ya get ‘em, trixie?”

I nod. “Sure did. Soon they’re gonna taste a mouthful of mud, and it ain’t mud pie!”

He holds his head back laughing and clapping his hands. “Nice! I’ll have to put that in my playbook!”

Sure enough, soon we all hear a muffled shout from across the room.

“Freak! You did this!” Chad spits the mud out while Audrey looks like she’s going to faint.

We burst out laughing and horribly try to hide it.

“Guess she’ll think twice before testing my patience again,” I say with a wicked smile.

For the rest of lunch the three of us talk back and discuss what our childhoods were like, with me telling them about life in Sherwood Forest and them telling me about life on the Isle.

“There’s no fresh groceries, no wi-fi-”

“And no dogs,” Carlos adds as Dude licks ketchup off his fingers. “Speaking of which, I’ve gotta go pick up his new jacket.”

Jay stands up and follows him out. “You seriously got your dog his own jacket?” 

I’m about to follow them, but then-

“Oh, Magica!” Audrey calls as she saunters back over with a box. “Before you go, I’ve got something for you! I saw this at a shop in town and thought of you!”

She hands the box over and I open it to find-

“Really? A black, pointy hat?” I mock her. A jet-black typical pointy witch hat.

She gives me a cheesy grin. “Yeah, it fits your vibe! Like you’re a witch!”

So… that’s how people really see me?

I try to stay calm and give the drama queen a stern look. “Only bad witches wear these. I am not a wicked witch, Audrey.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Of course you are! You’re not a fairy like Fiona or Bianca. Don’t tell me some random orphan just happens to have powers! Your mom was probably some magical old hag that wanted nothing to do with you.”

By now Tiffany, Fiona, and Lonnie have joined us, all with appalled looks.

“Audrey!”

“How can you say such a thing?”

“Come here, sugar.” Tiffany puts an arm around my shoulders and starts leading me out. “Let’s go someplace where there are more polite settings.”

When we get to the lunchroom exit I look down at the black hat I’m still holding in a stiff fist.

“Even if I was a real witch, how could Audrey be so- so… prejudice?” I say with a shaking voice. I’m not sure if I’m going to burst into flames or tears, or maybe both. But all I can do is try to remain steady so as to not cause a scene with my temper.

Tiffany shakes her head at the hat. “Sugar, you don’t have to keep it. Would you like me to burn it in the kitchen for you?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m going to keep this, and wear it tomorrow so I can show Audrey I am not a wicked witch.”

“Are you sure? Wearing this might just prove her point.” 

My face is seething. “I will wear this, and will not be shameful of it-”

“Because it will be the most fashionable thing you ever wear!” Evie appears behind me and takes my hand, dragging me away. “Ignore her. I changed your look before, I can do it again! We’re about to show that drama queen that you can make anything look beautiful!”

She tugs me into her and Mal’s dorm, and takes the hat from my firm grasp. After analyzing it for a few seconds, she goes to her desk and pulls out a jewelry box. Evie digs through multiple drawers until she picks out some silver rhinestones, glitter, and black lace.

“Here. Just give me a minute, and this boring old hat will be as good as new!”

I just nod and sit down next to the window, watching everyone below with a glazed look.

“So, have you thought about telling Carlos?” Evie asks.

I shake my head. “No. Again, I’ve got enough to worry about without balancing “true love” on my plate.”

“But you deserve to find someone who makes you happy!” The blue-haired VK gushes.

“Says the one dating a dumb jock just so she can find a prince,” I reply smugly.

Evie waves it off. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see.” She stands up and walks over, holding the hat behind her back.

“If you say so.”

“Shush! Now, close your eyes!” She says in a sing-song voice.

I arch an eyebrow, but do as she says. I feel her press the hat into my hands.

“Ok, open ‘em!”

When I open my eyes, I no longer see the cruel stereotype the hat used to be. Now it’s covered with rhinestones at the base, sprinkled with glitter, and has a black lace bow.

My jaw drops. “Evie, this…”

“And the lace comes down to become a veil, just in case you don’t want to deal with people.” Evie claps her hands.

I rotate the hat and my smile grows. “I can’t wait to see the smile disappear from Audrey’s prissy little face when she sees how wonderful you made this hat look! Thank you so much, Evie!” 

“No problem! That’s what you get when you’re friends with VKs.” 

[justafrogandherumbrella]

Welcome to Nowhere: Plan

“No!” Aderyn hisses. “There’s no way that will work!”

The group groans collectively. This is the fourth plan you’ve gone over together- and yet there’s somehow something wrong with this one too. 

“Why? There’s literally nothing wrong with it, ” Jenny pouts. “This one is foolproof!”

“No, it’s not,” Aderyn explains, shaking her head back and forth. “You said that we could call Mr.Rotary, pretending to be Jerrell, right? There’s a couple of problems with that- number one being you two,” she nods towards Bianca and Jenny, “- are the only ones who have ever met Jerrell, and none of us know what he sounds like. That’s also assuming that you guys could pull off an accurate impression of him. Second of all, that doesn’t account for Mayor Miller at all.”

“Well, he’s not too important, is he?”

“Didn’t you guys say earlier that he also  is really determined to not let anyone into Mr. Rotary’s office?” You ask. 

“Well- yeah,” Jenny falters, “buuuuut… what if we find a way to put the call on speaker- somehow, while he and Mr.Rotary are in the same room? With whatever we say and whatever Mr.Rotary says back is bound to make him upset! I mean- c’mon, we all know those two have a…thing.”

Bianca shakes her head. “Pa’s not dumb- he already knows. He just… isn’t angry about it enough to do anything.” She tilts her head down towards the floor, looking glum. 

Jenny shoots her a sympathetic look before pulling her into a hug. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, “I guess it wasn’t the best idea after all.”

“Hmmn,” Emerson muses. “What if we just… locked them both in a closet or something? We could lead them toward us and just… shove 'em in, lock the door, and then wander around freely- if you think that will work, of course.”

“That’s an… uncharacteristically violent thing for you to suggest, Emerson.” Gia says, shooting him a look that seems to whisper, “you okay there, buddy?”

“Pfft- common, that’s not that  violent.”

“Yeah, maybe not in general,” you say, giving them the same glance. “But for you it’s pretty weird. You’re awfully squeamish, y’know.”

“I am not squeamish,” they mutter. “You guys are just kind of barbaric.”

“Hey,” Gia says, holding up their hand near Emerson’s face. “Me being barbaric saved your life- and many other lives, as a matter of fact. Slaying monsters is an act of heroism.” They tilt their planet-head up, looking proud. “Violent heroism! The best kind!”

“Guys, we’re getting off topic,” Bianca says, waving her hand dismissively in Gia’s direction- causing them to slink back against the wall, vexed. 

“Hay, guys,”  Jenny says, sitting up. “I think I might have some semblance of a plan.”

“Oh?” Gia says, perking back up. “Do tell.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Jenny goes on. “Bianca’s family should be calling us all down for dinner soon- and that’s when a couple of us could make a distraction- keeping Bianca’s dads distracted in the kitchen while the rest of us sneak off to break into Mr.Rotary’s office.” She explains, letting go of Bianca. “Bianca, it would be best if you’re one of the people staying in the kitchen to cause a distraction, that way you can keep Mr.Rotary from hearing us by playing your static.”

“That…” Bianca pauses, thinking for a moment. “Could potentially work, I guess?”

“Great!” Aderyn cheers, clapping her hands together. “What’s the distraction?”

Jenny shrugs. “I dunno.”

…

“What? I told you I had ‘some semblance’ of a plan- not a full plan!” She said indignantly, crossing her arms as everyone in the room watched her with frustrated stares. “Jeez Louise…”

“ I might have an idea for a good distraction.” Bianca says, standing up. “If we were to use it though- I’d need some assistance and someone with acting skills.”

“Just tell us what it is…” Gia says, looking awfully tired. 

“Okay, soooo, my dad basically has a ‘no dating’ rule… he thinks that one: Dating is a reason I keep failing, and two: that I’m a total slut. Now, I don’t have much of a problem with that- but he does. So basically, if I was to make an announcement that I’ve ‘found the love of my life’ and that ‘I plan to run off with them and never work again’ that’s bound to piss him off beyond reason. Oooh! It’d work even better if the person pretends to be a suuuuper bad influence,” she says, almost excitedly.  “Me and whoever pretends to be my partner would stay in the kitchen while my dad is too busy being pissed off, and my pa’ is too busy trying to calm him down- that way the rest of you can sneak off and break into the office!”

It’s silent for a moment while everyone in the room scrutinizes Jenny and Bianca’s plan, looking for some kind of devastating flaw. 

“That sounds like it could work.” Gia says at last, and the room nods their head and mumbles in agreement. 

“Perfect!” Bianca whoops, doing a little twirl. “So, who here can put on a good show?”

“I mean, I think I could-” Aderyn starts to say before Bianca interrupts her. “Emerson, what about you?”

“M-me?” Emerson looks up, surprised. “I mean, I don’t know about my acting skills-”

“Oh, I bet you’ll do wonderfully.” Bianca says with what you think is supposed to be whatever a flirtatious wink looks like on a TV screen. “So,” she says in a teasing tone. “What do you say? Wanna be my ‘boyfriend’ for the night?”

[loominggaia]

Anonymous asked:

After reading the abominable skaddai, a what if question formed in my head and I’d like to ask, what would happen if Glenvar got fired for his alcoholism? Let’s say that the crew is on a high profile, BIG money job that could truly make or break them. Glenvar is told not to drink and being a shithead, try’s to get some booze anayway like in the story. Sabatoging them in what he thinks would be harmless to sneak off to grab booze, it ofcourse do’s not stay harmless and causes a massive shit show

To come cascading down via domino effect. This costing them the job as the client rejected them over incident. Finding out Glenvar was responsible for this and his excuse of “I wanted booze” Evan enraged, seeing that alcohol means more to Glen then his friends and job, fires him on the spot. What would be the fallout of Glenvar termination and the crew finding out he intentionally sabotaged them over his alcoholism?

This is actually very similar to the plot of a story I almost wrote, but it got scrapped a long time ago! I might dig up the bones and actually finish it someday, still not sure.

Throughout the series, we learn that Glenvar is a "functional" alcoholic. But he occasionally has times where his addiction gets out of control and he becomes dysfunctional, meaning his alcoholism actually impairs his ability to do his job.

In the short "Braids", Evan has apparently told Glenvar several times to slow down on the booze out of concern for his health. Glenvar goes as far as to quit completely for long stretches of time, but when he falls off the wagon again, he tends to fall hard.

In "Allmother's Gift", Evan says Glenvar "never chooses his habit over his job". But as we've seen, this isn't exactly true. Evan just doesn't notice how bad it really is because most of the time, Glenvar is juuust functional enough to still get the job done (By the skin of his teeth , but still...) This was the case in "The Abominable Skaadia".

It would take a lot for Evan to outright fire one of his crewmen, and I do mean a LOT. Like, they'd have to do something intentionally heinous and evil. Evan might express disappointment in them from time to time, but he's always willing to forgive honest mistakes, and he can't bring himself to fault them for showing symptoms of their illnesses (Alaine's paranoia, Mr. Ocean's brain damage, Glenvar's addiction, Jeimos' anxiety...the list goes on.)

We're talking about a man who accidentally cannibalized his own father and struggles with alcoholic tendencies himself. Evan knows he's in no position to crawl up anyone's ass about this. Besides that, he loves Glenvar like a little brother. Evan pretty much raised him from a feral teenager into a (relatively) civilized man, taught him how to read and write, how to defend himself, and so on.

I just couldn't imagine Evan firing Glenvar because his addiction got the better of him, even if it was a high profile job. Would Evan be disappointed? Absolutely. Would he be pissed off? Oh yeah. Depending on how bad the botch was, he might even yell and give Glen a smack or two. But fire him permanently? Nah.

What he would do is suspend Glenvar for a long period of time, and the suspension would only end once Glenvar proved to him that he got his shit together.

Even if Glenvar fell off the wagon again at some point after that, I think Evan would just suspend him again, so long as he felt like Glen was making an honest effort. If Glenvar was faking recovery, Evan might just let him go permanently, just for the safety of his other crewmen. But that's not Glenvar's way, he really does care about his job. It's all he really has and he's proud of what he does. He loves his crewmen, they're his family. He will never stop trying as long as they keep rooting for him.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

[captainhysunstuff]

Transcript:  The Chain - Too Close (or not Close Enough?)

The Chain - Too Close (or not Close Enough?) comic

Light:  *screams into a pillow* WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS?!

L:  Going off on her own after you told her not to?

Light:  Yeah!  She was with Kira!!  He could’ve killed her!  He still could!

L:  He won’t.  He wants to marry and use the 2nd Kira.  He’s dumb like that.

Light:  She was still in so much danger!  And YOU!

L:  Me??

Light:  You encouraged her in the first place!

L:  It’s not my fault you and your father canceled my original plan.  Which was going fine by the way...

Light:  *GLARE*

L:  U-umm... I’ll admit I underestimated how far she’d go to help.  She has guts.  Probably too much guts.  The effect of being in love?  *thinking* Or thinking you are...

Light:  *sigh* Well, I wish she’d knock it off.  Or at least cool it a little.  *plops down in despair* Why...??  I don’t love her.  I’ll never like her that way.  She has to know...  It’s... gross.  It makes me feel gross.  I would never forgive myself if she got hurt because of me.

*L leans over him*

Light:  ?

L:  *soft chuckle*

Light:  *irritated* ...What?  *thinking* Don’t laugh at me, bastard.

L:  *touches Light’s nose* When you say things like that so sincerely, it makes it just a little bit harder to believe that you’re Kira.  Your father would be so proud~.  *thinking* Cute.

Light:  *smacks L’s hand away* Hmph.  Almost like I’m not him or something.  Don’t touch my nose.

L:  *thinking* Very cute~.  *out loud* Well, you won’t have to worry about Higuchi hurting her.  His days are numbered.

Light:  She’ll just do it again.  She’s delusional.  I want to dump her as soon as I can, but I can’t as long as we’re both involved with this case.  It’s giving her false hope, making her latch onto me harder, and your encouragement made it worse!

L:  *touches his forehead to Light’s* I was desperate.  I’m sorry.

Light:  *sigh* I guess that’s not entirely your fault.  She was like that before you showed up.  You didn’t help though.

L:  Hmm.

Light:  Gaah...  It’s gonna be so messy when it ends!  I should kick your ass for that!

L:  Would that make you feel better?

Light:  Hmm... It might.  Not right now, though.  You could just make it up to me later.

L:  Sooo... I have a debt with you now?

Light:  Henh, you’d never be able to pay it off.

L:  Do you have any suggestions for doing so?

Light:  HA.  How about finally admitting that you’re wrong about me?  That I’m not waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill you?  Maybe make Misa less annoying?  Or--better yet!  Make her forget all about me!  Do that, and you’re instantly forgiven!  No questions asked!  *laughs*

L:  A repayment program could be arranged.  Should I make “advanced payments?”

Light:  *sigh* Please be serious.

L:  Her actions are understandable.  We want to capture Kira for our own reasons.  For her, so you’ll be proven innocent, and you two can be together forever...

Light:  Blech.

L:  ...And putting an end to this case for me.  We’re both a little desperate.  We’ll see what happens after we corner Higuchi.

Light:  Yeah, if solving this case means being stuck with her...

L:  You’ll successfully break things off with her.  I believe in you.

Light:  I told you!  It won’t be that easy.

L:  I’m sure you’ve dumped people before?

Light:  Yeah, but none were anywhere near Misa’s level of clingy and delusional!  I may even need to go into hiding...  Wait until she starts searching other continents before my life could go back to normal.

L:  I’d be more than willing to help you with that.

Light:  Pshhh, yeah right.

L:  I’m serious.  If anything, I’d prefer it if you’d just pack your bags and run away with me, but that’s just my opinion.

Light:  *shocked*  !!!

L:  I wonder how Watari would react to that?  Hmm.

Light:  HA! *laughing*

L:  What?

Light:  Could you imagine?!  Me, the top student in Japan, dropping everything here and just taking off with the “best detective in the world?”  *laughs*

L:  Is the idea really so funny to you?

Light:  My family would hunt you down to the ends of the earth!  My father would be convinced that you and seduced and stolen me~.

L:  *chuckles, caresses Light’s face* Is the seduction part of the plan working?

Light:  Hmm... It might be~.

*both lean in*

Morals-Misa:  YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME??

Light:  *pushes L away* Ehm... *clears throat* Sorry about that!  I totally distracted you!  My complaining.  Henh, thanks for listening.

L:  ?  ...Anytime.

Light:  ...Don’t give me that look.  Everything’s fine!  I feel 100 times better now.  You should go back to work.

L:  Right...

Light:  Well, goodnight then.  Remember, don’t stay up all night.  We’ve got a plan to perfect.  We need you at 100%!

L:  All right.  Goodnight.

Light:  *in shock*

[anagramtransitory]

20. I’d always have the feeling I should also be doing something else. The guilt permeates from my family like poison gas through walls. It seeps into everything towards me no matter what I try to block it with. It’s like it’s chasing me, meant for me, I deserve it, I must pay penance inescapably for something I’ve done or something I am or both. Both, I think, in large quantities. I’ve got tons of art. I’ve got art out the ass. I don’t treat it like it’s worth anything and don’t send her any of it though, not most of it. And I have got a LOT of it. I actually know a ton of it. Just by accident, I just like it and have been around it in my online circles and have passed by it and collected it, I guess. I wonder if she’d like vintage books for presents. I don’t know WHAT she’d like. Audiobooks gift card? Tools? Tea? I just don’t know ! The pressure for me to be happy is so large it is crushing me, as it has always done. How can I be happy when I make no one proud? I am filled with hopelessness because I have done so much that should have warranted people being proud of me but they’re all such strange and private and dark battles you don’t get trophies for or proof of that no one but me even knows about them. So naturally I suspect it’ll always be like that. Me winning these weird battles, me at home with no trophies or anything to show for it or anything like a good story to share with anyone, all my life. I hate it, so much. I have to win, and yet can never win. I’ve done so much already, and won nothing. I expect to never win anything. I hate it so much. None of these battles or my winning have been exciting. They’ve been slow and not worth telling to anyone, as the winning is sort of incommunicable, you had to be there, in every case/instance. Meaningless memories that mean everything to me. All my wins are silent. Everything, actually, is silent. None of this has been out loud. How strange. I can only talk with my hands. I don’t feel comfortable making noise at the moment otherwise. How young to I have to be? How young do I have to be? I’ll be making 50,000 at least starting at age 26. How young do I have to be? All I want is to be seen and loved and good. Will this do it? Will this fill any of the holes inside this space of my whole life, at all? Probably not at all. It’s always something more I need to do and be. I’m never enough. It’s never enough money. It’ll just keep getting worse and I’ll never get more love or understanding ever. I don’t want the money I don’t want the fucking money. I’m just doing it to not burden others. That’s all. That’s all. I’m gonna buy some new fucking parents. I’m gonna buy actors to fake love and pride for me. Pay them for just a constant daily stream of supportive and loving messages. Hell yeah, I want that so bad. I need that so bad. The most loved people kill themselves all the time. It’s as if love is not enough. Right now it doesn’t feel like enough at all. You can be loved and still have your heart break in a way that feels irreparable. I’ve been trying to heal my own all night. What heals a broken heart? I’m not sure at all. I’ve got no home in my own heart, if that makes sense, and it’s killing me, I think. It’s like I abandoned my own heart, like I don’t want to live there anymore. And no wonder. I’m too busy to love anyone with this heart of mine. There’s no use for it. Ergo, it feels like there’s no use for me. Take the best thing about a person and render it useless, especially if it’s the thing that gives them meaning and will to live. Destroy it completely, act like it might as well not exist now or ever in the foreseeable future, due to its uselessness, like another appendix, and throw me away. And then you’ll have really done something that matches the way I feel right now. “Your heart is not welcome here” on a sign in big letters over the doorway to entire real world and my future. Like my heart is full of evil powers and trickery or something. Me and my heart and it’s usefulness doomed to be permanently misunderstood. I am a good person. I just am.

[some-anonymity-preferred]

Also, that person keeps using the term "riot queer" and then describing something completely different. Do you think Marsha or Stormé were also the kind to police other queers' behavior at the Stonewall Inn? Do you think they called for the raid? Do you think they liked the people who did?

I don't.

I also object to the characterization of everyone else as Love Wins Queers, versus Izzy's Riot Queer (or Old Guard Queer, or whatever that person is actually trying to argue, bless their heart).

It at least shows, though, that we agree that everyone besides Izzy is of some kind of piece, and Izzy is somehow different. I can work with that.

Everyone else is some combination of Riot Queer and Love Wins Queer.

Buttons: in love with the sea, talks with birds, speaks in riddles; a pretty competent pirate helmsman/first mate, yearns for human flesh, bites

Ed: big soft goofy goth theatre kid, musical, fancies a fine fabric; is, ya know, Blackbeard

Fang: even bigger, even softer, goofy goth; Blackbeard’s main heavy

Frenchie: weird witchy musical fic-writing twink, sews, is into interior design; will scam you and spill your darkest secrets, has knives in his feet like a cat

Ivan: is Fang’s literal shoulder to cry on; wastes nothing, especially not the gold teeth

Jim: loves Olu, mourns their birth family, has a complicated relationship with their mother figure, gives the rest of the crew more chances than Jim feels they deserve; is Jim

Lucius: our favorite bitchy femme gay polyamorous relationship counselor; will humiliate you to death, can also whack you uspside the head if needed

Oluwande: quiet, caring, most frequently in possession of the show’s one brain cell, loves Jim; loves Jim, will scam you, can bash heads, coldly dismisses Izzy’s plea not to let the crew throw him overboard

Pete: poor dim baby, thespian, loves Lucius; full of braggadocio and really into mutiny and the violence of pirating

Roach: doctor, proud chef, sews, juggles (maybe); knives are knives, meat’s meat, finds torturing prisoners relaxing, provokes nazis for the sake of punching nazis

Stede: soft goofy theatre kid who just tries so darn hard, loves Ed; ran away to be a pirate, is a master of posh passive aggression, and in his hands, the stun move is overkill

The Swede: voice like an angel, blushes, gets the zoomies and a glow-up; is a pirate, might marry Jackie (Honestly, The Swede is the closest we come to a pure Love Wins Queer.)

Wee John: makes dresses, into interior design, has a drag persona; lives to set things on fire

Izzy: repressed and repulsive; a skilled swordsman, an abusive middle manager, and a narc

One of these things is not like the others, as they say.

Izzy is neither Love Wins nor Riot, and he’s not really Old Guard, either. He’s repressed and dripping with toxic masculinity. That’s his character, it makes him an antagonist—and it makes him someone I want nowhere near any place that bills itself as a safe space.

It’s worth noting that everyone else largely directs their violence outward, away from the group. That’s what makes them Riot Queers. And regardless of where their violence is directed, it’s often in self defence/preservation (whether justified or not).

Izzy is the only one we see making a habit of violence against those around him, and it’s for the sake of enforcing his own idea of his authority. I’d also say he inflicts more intentional psychological damage than any other member of the crew. And, thinking back on my recent rematch of the series, I’m not sure I remember seeing Izzy physically assault anyone in authority outside the Revenge (I’m not sure of that, but it’s my impression at the moment; and I will watch for it when I sit my polycule down for one last rewatch before Oct 5). And he always has at least a civil mask on when speaking with them. (Lord help me I won’t bring race into this post.) So yeah.

One of these things is not like the others for sure.

[humansun]

YET ANOTHER RANT ABOUT GRAMS

Written Thursday, May 25th at 9:38AM

Good morning! I woke up 10 minutes late for gym, so I wasn’t able to go this morning, but I’ll be certain to do my best to stay active in general.

My fitness journey has actually been awesome as difficult as it is at times. I’m really proud of how far I’ve come in terms of improving my diet and doing my best to meet my body where it’s at for exercise.

As for today, I plan on doing some creative work, because having something small is better than having nothing at all. 

My self-esteem level today is at normal I would say. I wouldn’t say I feel incredibly happy but I feel content. Today when I went to brush my teeth, I realized that in that specific moment, I didn’t feel the need to compare myself to anyone because I’m taking my creative journey at my own pace. That’s pretty cool.

It was a moment of clarity where I felt that I was for once, okay where I was at. But it only lasted about a second, I would say. 

Yesterday was another night sleeping on the couch. I can’t stand ants on my bed and on my desk and crawling on me. I’m just doing my best to deal with it as I’d like to save money living at home and that also requires me to mentally shut out my family’s negative comments at times. Mostly my grandma’s.

I feel as though I’m still processing my sentiments towards my grandma. I’m not sure if I like her very much. I don’t think I like her at all these days. That was a hard realization to come to, but I’m relieved I did because it gave me the freedom to have my own opinion and validity to my emotions. I still love her very much, but I don’t like who she is as a person. 

I’m aware that the pain and hardship she’s gone through as a person has been traumatic and painful, but I believe I dislike her because of the pain and trauma that she sprinkles on our family members, but specifically pours onto those who live with her.

My goal is to learn and understand her better through our small interactions and recognize that her behavior is a potential result of neglect from her parents, friends, and siblings. There’s no way a human could be this mean and cynical and not have gone through horrific war experiences while living in a mentally challenging homehold.

It’s a weird feeling knowing she is going to die soon. I often think about Jeanette McCurdy's book about her being happy her mom died, and it’s not to that extent that I want my grandma to die. I just think the pain she inflicts on other people causes mental war and years of negative internalization. That to me is comparable to physical pain.

Just because I don’t like her, doesn’t mean I don’t love her. I think I feel guilty if I don’t love her too. But I do. I believe all I want is her approval, appreciation, and expressive love for me. It would be weird if she expressed any of those feelings, but I think that is what I want at the end of the day. A loving, normal, kind grandma. But I don’t have that. I have a bitter old lady grandma who is mean.

It’s still a process I’m working through. A part of me just wants to treat her kindly and kiss her toes - that way, I don’t experience the impending regret when she departs from the world or I don’t get paranoid about her haunting me. I wish I could give her shrooms, but that might also just kill her. Plus, it’s very illegal to do so. 

Yeah. I think generally I’m afraid of her haunting me and I’m obviously going to have her on the bàn thờ so it’s like - I need to treat her with decent kindness right now but really I don’t want to. Most of the time I just tell her, “Grandma, I’m in a meeting with my boss” and close the door on her. Or I’ll give her one-worded answers. Or I’ll just avoid her. Like if I know she’s coming into the kitchen I will find a hidden spot in the house to hang out because I know she’ll try to talk to me, and if I respond, she’ll find a problem with what I said—every time. 

I wonder when she goes to heaven she’ll be aware of how much a shitty person she was. I think I really like nice old grandmas because they’re nothing like my grandma. (All of these statements do not invalidate my gratitude for all she’s done. That is very much present in all of my sentiments above. At least to me.)

Anyways, there’s that. In regards to my today, I need to be as productive as possible because I feel like I’m falling behind in some kind of way. But for now, I’m going to eat breakfast like a normal person and actually eat enough so my stomach is satisfied because these days I’m like, always hungry.

[animeboye]

It’s a Dragon’s World Chapter 10

                      Pt. 10 The Transformation Comes to An End I woke up after having passed out yet AGAIN! I thought I had this crazy dream that instead of my reflection, a small, child dragon's reflection was in place of my own. I got up from under the sheets. Everyone was standing around me. They looked like I had just done something pretty weird. "What's everyone looking at?" I asked. "Don't you feel strange?" Lucas asked. "Why? Should I? What's going on?" I asked. "Well, Titus. Your transformation's complete." Sarah explained. I couldn't believe it. So the little dragon in the mirror actually WAS me. I looked at my hands. They had claws growing out of them and looked like my feet. And just like my feet, they're were only three fingers on each hand, or paw as they now were. I brought one of my paws to my face and felt my face, all the way to my new snout. I stood up and looked at the spot I was resting in. Strands of my hair had fallen out. It was actually real. I thought my transformation would have taken longer. "So, how's it feel, Doulstraz?" Angela asked.

I thought about that for a while. How DID it feel to me? I mean, I was born as a dragon, so getting readjusted to my real body might not be so hard. "It...feels pretty strange. Yet...it feels cool at the same time." I said. I didn't know how else to put it. "So this is what Titus really looks like, huh? And all this time, I thought he was just a scrawny guy." Lucas teased. "HEY!" I shouted at Lucas. I burped up a flame, which, ironically, scorched Lucas. It didn't do terrible damage at least, which was good. I wouldn't really want to hurt Lucas. "Geez, Titus! That hurt!" Lucas exclaimed. The upper half of his shirt burned up when I scorched him. "Umm, Lucas, I think I should get you a new shirt." Ben said. He went upstairs to get a new shirt. I walked around the room a little to try out my new body. Like Angela said, I could only walk on all fours so that took some getting used to. I went to the full-bodied mirror Angela used to show me my completed transformation. I noticed that two beautiful horns were arched on the top of my head. My eyes were now reptilian and it seemed as if I could see things better than I could as a human. Angela walked up to me. "Doulstraz." Angela began. "Yeah?" I asked. "I think we should go back to the Dragon Realm." "Why?" I asked. "Well don't you want to show your mom and dad your new form? I'm sure they'd like to see what their only son looks like after he's been in a human form for his whole life." Angela said. "Yeah, Titus. Besides, I'd like to meet your real mom and dad." Jessie said. "Yeah! We want to go to!" The kids shouted, happily. "Wherever Titus goes, I go." Lucas finished. "Let's all go." Ben said. "Besides, this may be the last time we ever get to see Titus...I mean Doulstraz." He said. He sounded a little sad at the possibility. "Why do you say that?" Lucas asked. "Titus was born a dragon. His parents might want to take him back and try to start a new life with their son." Ben tried to explain. I lowered my head. I didn't  want to leave. Even though so much bad stuff had happened to me, I had grown to love my life. I didn't want to just leave the friends and family I had made. Because I knew that if I did, they'd all truly be sad. "Ben, it's okay. I'll never leave you guys. I love being here, with all of you." I said. Ben walked up to me and rubbed my head. Just like he did when I was a little kid. "And I love having you here. You're a good ki--I mean dragon, Titus. Or Doulstraz I should say." Ben tried to correct himself. "It's okay, Ben. You can still call me Titus. That HAS been my name for thirteen years after all." Ben smiled warmly at me. He bent down and wrapped hs arms around my neck, giving me a hug. "I'm so proud to have such a good brother. No matter what happens Titus, this will always be your home. We ARE brothers after all. Regardless of blood, and regardless of our species and who our real parents are." Ben said, I could feel a tear running down his cheek and onto my shiny green scales. "Ben...thank you." I said. Tears ran down my face as well. Ben got to his knees again. "Is everyone ready?" Angela asked. We all said yes. Ben opened the door and outside, was the portal waiting to take us back to the Dragon Realm. "So this is the way to this Dragon Realm?" Jessie asked. "Yeah." I said. "The realm I was originally born in." We all walked through, together. When each one of us made it through, the portal closed behind us. Everyone else’s bodies, as well as my own flew without force to them, towards the portal to the Dragon Realm. "This is cool!" Kyle and Jackie exclaimed. "Are we in the Dragon Realm?" Jessie asked. "Almost. Just another minute and we should be there." I said. As I had said, in a minute, we made it to the Dragon Realm. It was dark, just like when we made it here last time. I led the way to my parents' cave. everyone else followed behind me so they wouldn't get lost. As we made it the cave, I lit the torches with my fire breath. We walked through the now lit up cave. Until we made it to the end of the cave. The end was most likely my parents' bedroom. "Mom! Dad!" I called out. Two shadows moved. They walked towards the light. "Oh! Doulstraz! Is that you?" They asked. "Yeah!" I jumped up and down happily. "I'm a dragon again!" "He looks so happy." Sarah said. "Do you think he'll want to stay here?" Kyle asked. Ben didn't answer. He just looked on. "Ben?" Jessie asked. Ben snapped out of his daydreaming. He looked at Jessie with a bit of a sorrowful expression. I could tell he'd probably really miss me. "Doulstraz, do you want to live with us? In the Dragon Realm?" My mom asked. I looked at Ben. Then I looked at Jackie and Kyle. I could tell they were trying to hold back their tears. Then I looked at Sarah. She also looked as if she was about to cry.  Jessie also had a look of sadness on her face. Lucas had his arm over his eyes. He, as well as everyone else probably felt sad that I might not return to the world they live in. I walked towards mom and dad. But was stopped by Lucas. "Wait, Titus!" Lucas exclaimed. I turned my head over to my friends. "So this is it? Are you really gonna be happy here? Aren't you going to miss us? We've been your friends and family your whole life. You probably never would've known about this place if you hadn't met Angela!" Lucas exclaimed. His eyes, flowing with tears. "Lucas..." I said, sorrowfully. "Uncle Titus! Please don't leave!" The kids shouted. I was amazed. Even after they found out that I was actually a dragon, they still considered me their uncle. "Guys...please don't make this harder for me." I thought. "Titus, I only got to know you for such a short time. I really wish we could have gotten to be closer friends. Because to me...you're...you're..." Sarah couldn't finish her sentence. She started to sob. "Titus..." Ben said next. "You should do what'll make you happy. If you want to stay here, then who are we to stop you. This place was where you were originally born." "Ben...big brother." I said quietly. Tears started to fill my eyes as well. "Titus. You're by far one of the nicest people I had ever met. Even if you are a dragon, you still have us as your family." Jessie said. "Jessie, everyone."  I said. "Doulstraz, if you want to live in the human realm, that's okay." Mom and dad said. "We don't want to break the bonds you have with these humans. And Angela will take care of you too. Right, Angela?" They asked. "Yeah! You guys have been my friends for so long, I figure I should do at least that much." "Thanks, everyone." I said. Tears filled my eyes as well. This time, I was crying tears of happiness. I ran over to my friends and family as they ran towards me and gave me a hug. "He's really become a good dragon." Mom said. "I hope he'll be able to live happily with those humans." Dad finished. We walked towards the exit of the cave. Upon exiting, I heard an explosion. "What's that?" Sarah asked. "Oh no! It's those humans again!" My parents exclaimed. I growled at the thought of them. I had had ENOUGH of this! I ran towards where the explosion came from, hoping I'd be able to put a stop to this. "TITUS!" Everyone yelled.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena’s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]

[butwhyduh]

Had a random idea: what would the batboys’ (though mostly Tim’s) reaction be to finding out caffeine gives their S/O migraines?

Tim

“I made coffee if you want some,” Tim offered. He could make 2 dishes perfectly: coffee and cereal.

You smiled and shook your head. Tim had a permanent warm smell of fresh coffee that was comforting but it wasn’t for you.

“It gives me migraines actually,” you answered looking up from your book. He stopped mid pour.

“What? Coffee?”

“Caffeine,” you answered. You went back to reading.

“Hmmm,” he said completing his coffee pour. “Why didn’t you say so? I have decaf.”

“Oh uh..”

Jason

“I made my famous dessert, tiramisu,” he said showing off a beautiful fluffy brown dusted dessert; a cute proud smile on his face.

“Oh,” you said as the smile fell from your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sitting it down on the counter.

“Nothing! I mean- well- I, kinda, don’t eat caffeine because it gives me migraines,” you admitted.

“Oh! Oh,” he said looking down at the dessert. “I wouldn’t eat it because it has espresso in it.”

“Yeah…”

“You know what, I can eat it all myself later. And we can walk down the street and get ice cream. And next time I can make it caffeine free,” Jason said.

“You don’t mind?” You said as you both slid on your shoes.

“You kidding me? I’d have to be the biggest ass to want you to eat something to give you a migraine. Don’t even think about it. What are your thoughts on mango ice cream?”

Dick

“I have a surprise,” Dick said with his hand over your face. His other held your waist gently and guided you into place.

“You really didn’t-“

“Hush. It’s your birthday,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. “It might be… unusual but I thought you’d like it.”

“Okay,” you said with a nervous sigh.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes to see a fancy Italian coffee making thing. Oh no. Everyone loves coffee but you. You’d have to tell Dick because he bought something that must have cost a fortune.

“Oh, thanks. Uh,” you said turning in his arms and his smiled dropped a little at your vibes. “I love it. But I don’t drink coffee. Most coffee gives me migraines,” you said with a bit of an apologetic grimace.

“Oh shit. I didn’t even notice. Not a great boyfriend moment,” Dick winced.

“No! It’s a really really nice gesture. It looks super expensive. Not that that makes a present good! But that you put work into-“

“I won it at work! The gym I work for did a raffle and I won. Don’t feel bad. I can’t afford something like that, ha,” Dick said rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “I’ll take it to my place and I’ll get you something better. We can go out shopping. Not that expensive but something you like.”

“How bout we get something to eat and go watch that movie I want to see. Maybe even some popcorn too,” you said hugging him around the waist.

“I said less expensive, not more,” Dick joked. You rolled your eyes but let him kiss the side of your lips. “I’ll never financially recover but if that’s what my girl wants…”

Damian

“Damian,” you said laying on his bed on your stomach. Math homework stared up at you ominously. He stopped writing his own calculation.

“Hmm?”

“Did I ever tell you I don’t drink coffee?”

“No. Why is that?” He asked going back to writing. His back was on the opposite side of the bed from you with Damian facing you.

“It gives me migraines,” you said.

“Coffee? Is it that caffeine?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Not uncommon. I’ll make sure Alfred makes your tea caffeine free,” Damian muttered.

“Hm”

“What?”

“I’m just surprised that’s all. Your whole family is practically on an IV drip of coffee,” you said leading your head against his knee playfully. Damian smiled and looked up.

“Not being addicted to a drug is a good thing. Especially if you’re prone to migraines,” he said. “You forgot to transfer the 7 on question 15.”

“Damn.”

Bruce

“And we can go get coffee in Brazil and macarons in Paris,” he said kissing your neck from behind. “I can take you anywhere in the world you could want.”

“Hmm,” you questioned with your eyes closed and neck bent to let him reach better. Bruce ‘s hand slowly pulled the zipper down on you party dress.

“We can leave tonight. Breakfast in Brazil?” He asked between kisses. His teeth gently scrapped at the lobe of your ear pulling a shiver from you.

“Oh, coffee?”

“Yes, after I ravage you all night I’ll get you the best coffee in the world,” he murmured as his hand pulled the dress fabric up.

“Oh, I don’t drink coffee,” you said. He hummed questioningly. “Caffeine gives me migraines.”

“Really? I’ll just have to find you something else. In Brazil or anywhere in the world you could wish,” he said turning you in his arms.

“The beach this time of the year sounds nice,” you admitted with a smile.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Bruce answered with a smirk.