#ok taking a brief break from crashing out to learn things :)

[colleendoran]

OK, so you are looking at a comic I did back in 1990 that changed my life in so many ways. Not the way you’re thinking of.

It taught me some very important lessons about the comics business, fame, and more importantly, how fame doesn’t rub off. And how having reasonable expectations will keep you centered and on the right path.

Many people don’t internalize this lesson. And now that our industry is no longer just Fandom Culture but is now Celebrity Culture, we see more and more creators with incredibly unrealistic expectations getting into comics, expecting the sun and moon to rise out of whatever they do, and being disappointed and frustrated when they don't.

I got occasional mainstream comics work in the early 1980’s, but I was still looking for my big break years later, especially since a major gig I was working on got shelved forever. I cannot even begin to tell you just how much being out of the eyes of the market for YEARS at a time while you work on a gig - and then the gig never coming out - can absolutely sink your brand.

Nowadays we have social media. Back then, you had no way to be seen if your work wasn’t being published. People forgot about you in about 15 minutes.

So when I got a gig working on Amazing Spider-Man, you bet I was thrilled. And even more thrilled when the darned thing sold like crazy. This issue of Amazing Spider-Man outsold previous Todd MacFarlane issues. And I knew Marvel was looking for a new artist. Huzzah! I outsold Todd! Maybe the new artist should be me!

You can imagine how pleased and excited I was to go to conventions and sign copies of a book that hundreds of thousands of fans bought. It was fun getting my first big lines of fans. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to push my other works to them as well.

But few Spider-Man fans were interested in my other books. They could not possibly care less about Amethyst: Princess of Gemworld, that’s for sure.

The Spider-Man glow was gone in no time. And Marvel picked Erik Larsen to be the regular artist.

I might as well have never worked on Spider-Man for all the long term good it did. Were it not for that one brief shining moment of royalty check (which was darned good,) it had no effect on my prospects.

While I got more work at Marvel, I was scrambling to make a living and took on too much, doing sub-par art that didn’t please anyone.

I realized pretty quickly that Spider-Man’s fans weren’t my fans. I might as well have been a spark plug on that issue. Fans lined up, got me to sign a book, and forgot about me the next day. 

(Yeah I know some people say they love that comic, but I often hear from people who tell me how much they hated my art back then and how much they grew to love it later. Thank you, I’ll take it.)

Anyway, it was all a very tough lesson. But I appreciate that I learned it early before I got to the point where I could never learn it.

Fame isn’t transitive. It doesn’t rub off.

The public needs more than your proximity to something they know to transfer their attention to you and your work.

A lot of people got a taste of this in the early 1990’s. For a while, self-publishing was The Big Thing. I self published A Distant Soil and did well for some years, at one point making more than I could in mainstream comics, until the market crashed in 1996. A lot of creators thought if they just went to Image Comics, they’d all be millionaires.

That didn’t happen for almost all of them.

An old frenemy saw how well I was doing self publishing and assumed that if they just transferred their mainstream comics fan base to their creator owned work, they’d get rich.

But that didn’t happen. Their self-published work sold a fraction of what mine did. Their project died in the red. I never got my art back, including work from an unpublished future issue of the project. I remember being with this creator at a show and enduring their fury at how fans weren’t paying attention to them and their project. 

How could this happen? They were a star mainstream creator!

The mainstream cred did not transfer to the other work. The fans wanted the famous characters, not the indie project they were trying to push.

There was no point in explaining this either. I’d learned this lesson myself, but this person never learned it.

Most people never learn it.

How is it that I work on Famous This or with Famous Person and why am I not famous Too?

Because fame isn’t transitive.

I’ve worked on projects that got a lot (and I mean a lot) of buzz, but there are projects that didn’t necessarily set the world on fire that did more for me as an artist and for my finances than “big” projects did. 

Reign of the Zodiac and The Book of Lost Souls, both early/mid 2000’s comics with mediocre sales set me on a solid financial footing because they are two of the few regular monthly gigs I’ve done in all my years working in comics. That monthly paycheck paid more than the projects I’d done before them. The financial and emotional stability was beyond price. I loved everything about those projects. 

Except for their premature demise.

The one and only famous project that had a major transformative afterglow effect re: me and my work was Sandman. I met Neil Gaiman years before I worked on Sandman, before he was famous. I only worked on two issues. Many other artists were far more important to the project than me, of course. Then I went for nearly twenty years solid without working with Neil at all except on a pinup and short story adaptation of Troll Bridge that almost no one remembers. 

I started working with Neil again when he saw some art I did for a book for Tori Amos back in 2008. Tori Amos fans didn’t flock to my side when they saw it, yet another example of how Famous People Fame Doesn’t Rub Off. But I lavished time and attention on the project, did the art on spec with a completely new style and process, and showed it to Neil. I asked Neil if he’d take a chance at working with me again after lo, these many years and let me have a go again at adapting the story Troll Bridge that I’d botched in 1998. Neil said yes.

After The Book of Lost Souls got killed back in 2006, I could barely get arrested in comics and I wasn’t sure I had a future. I was shocked that Neil said yes. 

That Tori Amos job reestablished my working relationship with Neil and brought me to Dark Horse Comics, a publisher which had shown little prior interest in my stuff.

It took me years to complete Troll Bridge and during that time, Peter David contacted me to ask if I’d work on Stan Lee’s autobiography. That came out of the blue, and boy did I appreciate it. It sold like crazy, which was unexpected, really.

So I went from Not Being Able to Get Arrested in Comics in 2008, doing 1$ sketch cards and working for page rates I worked for in 1986, to Not Being Able to Remember What I am Doing Because I have Too Much To Do in 2022. I mean literally couldn’t remember I did a pinup for a gig back in February, and I not only forgot about it, I didn’t know it was published last June.

It looks like I had a super fast and fun run up if you’re just looking at my highlight reel. But it wasn’t. I’ve had peaks and valleys, (a few very fine peaks, the best being around 1993 and the other now), and sometimes the “big time” projects I thought would make my career held me back worse than the “small time” ones. “Big time” projects got shelved or came and went, quickly forgotten, and I said no to other projects while I was busy, and the one that got away ended up getting made into a multi-million dollar film franchise that would have set me up for life.

Ow.

If just being next to a famous person or working on a famous project was a guarantor of success, than I’d have been hugely successful every day of my adult life. 

That is not how it works.

Even the famous people are not as all that as you think, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many actors with haunted looks on their faces at conventions.

I met Neil before he was famous, but it took over thirty years for me to establish a solid working relationship with him.

Thirty. 

Years.

I’ve worked with famous wrestlers, actors, musicians, politicians, a Pulitzer Prize winning author, and on almost every single major licensed character there is. And I’m not super-famous or rich. I mean, I never wanted to be famous in the first place, but I’m not completely unknown in my field, and I’m not poor (anymore). Still, seriously, folks. I’m not going to movie premieres and living in Hollywood. 

I actually get asked about that, and I think it’s so funny.

I was watching some recent art auctions, and I was absolutely shocked to see original pages by an Eisner-nominated creator go for rock bottom prices, mainstream interiors at around $50 per page. I could not believe it. This artist is over 40 years old. I wonder if things will turn around for them.

Time will tell.

In the end, it’s not all about the people you’re standing next to. Or the character. Or the company. Or the award. And it's certainly not all about you.

Fans are here for you one minute, and forget about you tomorrow. Then you get $50 for your Eisner nominated art.

Art either takes off or it doesn’t. You either take off or you don’t. 

And then you can fly too close to the sun and fall.

Worse yet…you just fade and no one even notices that you crashed beautifully into the surf.

If people knew what the magic formula was, they’d be selling it and everyone would have what they want out of their art life.

But there is no magic formula. There just isn’t.

Everyone wants to be special to someone. Especially artists. Everything you create is special to you.

But it is extremely rare that what you create is as special to others as it is to you. Sometimes artists are just like everyone else. 

Here and gone.

Fame and success is not transitive. And they're not forever.

That’s the lesson.

I'm working on Good Omens right now. The Kickstarter pre-sign up news is here. No, it's not an icky newsletter, it will just let you know when the Kickstarter launches.

I have a Patreon. I'm funding the final volume of my space opera A DISTANT SOIL with it, but I won't be working on it again until Good Omens is complete. I have one of the most active and productive Patreons on the site.

I'm also on Twitter and Facebook and Instagram. Not too much though, they are distraction pits.

Make art because you love it. Because the rest...well, good luck. If it happens for you...it happens. And I hope it does.

[depresoespreso]

I think...this is something I'm experiencing myself now. I grew up with heavy academic expectations. I needed to be perfect and constantly overachieve. Whenever I accomplished something, I would get a brief congratulations before that achievement became the new expectation of "normal" performance; in the same way capitalism expects infinite profit growth, my father expected infinite achievement growth. Holding steady wasn't enough, it always had to be bigger and better or it/I was met with apathy or even disappointment.

Towards the end of my first year of university, I crashed. The pressure I was living with just wasn't sustainable and I hit my absolute physical and mental limit. Over the next 2-4 years I continued to crash, much like a cartoon spaceship, hitting the ground briefly then bouncing up a bit then hitting the ground again, over and over until I finally accepted that the shop was going down and stayed down.

For me, the process of crashing looked like failing my classes where I was previously an A+ student. I was struggling to get assignments in at all, let alone in time. My health was tanking in every possible way. I started having seizures and major memory issues. I dragged myself through all of it because I needed the student loan money for housing, but even 2 classes was too much. So letting the crash happen looked like dropping out. I finally said fine, I'll stop. It's too much. I stopped taking classes for the first time since kindergarten.

I've been out of classes since April 2024. Life has been chaotic. I had a break up, I'm in the middle of moving, I still have a million things on my to do list... But I'm healing. Slowly. I'm learning to balance work and fun after years of existing only on the promise of eventual escape from everything without a guarantee of how or when. I have failed to meet a major expectation in my life--to graduate university within four years--but I'm still alive despite that. I'm slowly starting to accept that I'm not pushing myself relentlessly for several years before I can start actually living. I'm living now. And it's ok to live now, regardless of what that looks like. I'm not failing a schedule that was predetermined. I'm living my own life, my own way.

my aunt used to be a beauty pageant kid. had long, beautiful red hair with a curl pattern that made hairdressers jealous. her mother would pay people lots of money to spend hours styling my aunt's hair

predictably, as a young adult, my aunt cut all of her hair off. buzzed down to the scalp. she still keeps it pretty short- long enough for curls to develop, but only on the top of her head. she says she can't stand the feeling of her hair touching her ears or neck.

recently she's started collecting and styling wigs. she'll even wear them, occasionally, to a fancy event or if she just doesn't want to be bothered by distant family when she goes shopping. and she spends hours styling these wigs, even though she doesn't use them all that often.

i asked her about it. she said that sometimes, growth looks a lot like regression with a twist. that she's reclaiming something she enjoyed as a kid, and could have enjoyed more. she said she's practicing having agency, and that it's a skill that doesn't come very naturally for her. having agency, i mean. she's really good at styling wigs.

[daughterofdescartes]

A creative internship. Or in other words: be creative or crash the ship?

From September until December I got the honor to run a pop-up agency and meet 4 other young creatives within an existing agency in my neighborhood. You don't want to know how completely the offer of this internship lifted my spirits. I was working a customer service job as a civil servant, wanting to die every single day, because of my toxic work environment. With this offer finally taking me out of my slump, I thought "This is it. This is going to be my breakthrough in the creative industry." Little did I know I'd become even more confused 4 months later, and possibly be even more lost and depressed.

What did it all mean?

I'm still trying to process what it all meant to me. I think I ended the internship on a bit of a sad note, feeling disillusioned with the past four months. I really expected it was going to launch me straight into success, or I'd instantly find my passion, but the conclusion was that I still couldn't quite figure out what I wanted to do in life after all that. And maybe that's OK. I'll continue figuring it out. Maybe working in a high-stress, high-pressure environment isn't for me. Or was I self-inducing all that stress and pressure this whole time?

What I liked about the internship / working at an agency

I liked the different types of profiles you get to meet: strategists, designers, content creatives, art directors, account managers. It makes a very unique environment, where it feels like you're all part of one machine, which is pretty cool I guess!

When I was truly making content, whether it be video content or design, or ideas (those were the hardest), I could really find myself in a flow state, which I enjoyed.

I met some pretty cool people, people with whom I may or may not want to collaborate with again... Oops

We made a children's book ... And had a book launch party!! It was very fun. The projects we made from A to Z, where we got the most agency, were ultimately the most rewarding :).

I discovered I really like writing e-mails to people. And I can feel pretty proud of them too.

Making latte art was a fun break.

What I did NOT like about the internship / working at an agency

On some days I absolutely despised constantly sitting together as a group, but maybe we kind of forced ourselves to?

Adding onto the previous statement, I regret not mingling more with the main agency, but then again, we didn't feel welcomed either. Sociel anxiety tango it is!

Another reason why we didn't feel welcome was because we'd get involved on a briefing, but then they'd half-assedly involve us on the project and we'd have to keep running after them to ask how we could help

I never got praised much for all my work, extra hours and nights I put in, and maybe an agency isn't the environment where you should be expecting praise. But can you blame me for wanting to feel valued at the office?

I wish I learned more things. The work we did was not varied at all. We mostly had to come up with creative concepts for a campaign, PR-stunt, or social media format. That was fun, but after a while it got old, and I also wanted to learn other things. The internship didn't teach me as much as I thought it would.

This is more personal, but I felt my own insecurities really stand in my own way when wanting to learn new things. I couldn't bring myself to do a lot of design work, because I felt like I wasn't good enough. Looking for a way to work on my self-sabotage...

What I learned

I'm still looking for what I want to do for a living, and that's OK.

I learned mostly soft skills on how to manage projects, clients and that every project has a SPOC (Single Point Of Contact), and if you're not the SPOC you need to back the fuck off!!!

I still have a lot of social anxiety when it comes to public speaking, which I want to get better at :*

I don't like presenting very much, especially when I don't know what the heck I'm talking about? Lol

I learned that I find most enjoyment in content creation and art direction, I just love having a vision, and telling people what to do to make that vision come true

If I want to continue developing my design and illustration skills, I must work hard to improve!! practice, practice, practice... but for some reason I don't feel motivated, oops!

I recognize I put a lot of pressure on myself, which paralyzes me, so I end up doing nothing, so that's great :D

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 1

Here I am!

As i promised here is the first chapter of my new Rowaelin.

This one will be very different from Island Dream. It’s meant to have a slightly more challenging plot line and a smidge more angst in it. Also, i know very little about fire fighters and the airforce. I did research for both of them and for the firefighters I used some shows I follow as inspiration. Whereas for the airforce... it’s mostly research. I based the ranks system on the UK RAF.

THIS is Rowan’s jet (it actually exists. It’s called a Eurofighter Typhoon. I have seen it live at some airshow here in Scotland and it’s so damn sexy.), just imagine it in deep green for Terrasen. 

I have 12 chapters down but still no actual direction in mind yet. I have a few ideas I want to develop but the storyline is still hazy. 

And this is the SONG that gave the idea for the title.

Anyway, I’ll leave you to it

----------

Aelin is a firefighter for the Terrasen Fire Department (TFD) and one day her squadron get called to deal with a fire at the airbase of the Terrasen airforce (TAF). During the incident she meets icy Captain Whitethorn. They are thown together in a forced cooperation.  Slowly they will find their lives entwined beyond work. And both of them, with a tragic past at their backs... will have to be a little braver...

(Sorry i suck at introductions)

----------------

“Again!” Shouted a blonde woman standing in front of a training tower on fire. Her long braid gently placed on her shoulder. Blue eyes like the clearest of days fixed on the inferno in front of her and a concentrated expression. 

“Brullo, help Luca and start again, perhaps this time without killing our victim.”

They had been at it for a while but it seemed like the newbie was struggling with training. Being a firefighter was not a job for everyone. Aelin knew Luca was still a probie and still learning the ropes but sometimes she felt as if the boy was not as tough as he tried to be. Luca had been with them for three months and he had become the mascot of the group. He was eighteen an eager and she was happy to support him as much as she could, but her job was also to make sure her people would walk out of a raging fire alive. She had already lost enough in the line of duty. 

She was about to call for a break when the dispatch siren went off.

“Everyone, time to go.” She turned to Luca “You stay at the station and cover dispatch or just study for your exam.” She winked at him and ran to the engine, donned her gear and climbed to her seat.

Being the Captain she took the passenger seat in the engine and joined Nox who was the driver.

“Were are we heading?”

“Airforce base.” Replied Nox while driving the engine to its destination with incredible skill.

“Did a pilot forgot to turn off one of their fancy planes?” Then she turned to Aedion, the man was her lieutenant and her second  “Are our EMTs with us?”

The man nodded “right behind us.”

The engine sped through traffic, siren blazing “what’s our ETA?” Asked Aelin.

“Five minutes, Cap.” Replied Nox.

Not long after they reached their destination and arrived at the main gates of the airbase which were shut. Aelin swore. She opened the door and jumped off the truck.

To meet her there was a tall man, his hair silver and the eyes of the deepest of green. She thought Aedion was tall. She was wrong. This man was a good twenty centimetre taller. 

“Fire department at your service, did one of men’s arse caught fire?”

The man glared at her. His face harsh.

Ok, wrong audience.

“We have a fire in hangar bay 2.”

“Good, now open these gates and let us through if you want us to work our magic.”

“This is a restricted area as you can imagine.” His tone flat and almost bored.

Aelin took a step toward him, not afraid “Listen, you either let us through with the engine and the ambulance or you start praying the gods for a fuckload of rain. Which will it be, sir?”

Aelin noticed a flash of anger pass through his eyes. He would have been the most gorgeous man she had ever seen if it wasn’t for his stick up his arse attitude.

The man in front of her made a gesture and a car appeared in front of the truck “Follow the car and do not wander. This is a restricted area.”

“Sure, I always wanted a picnic in an airbase.”

Aelin ignored him and gestured at the ambulance to follow them. She jumped back on the truck and noticed the silver haired arsehole getting in the car in front of them.

It did not take long to reach their destination and Aelin swore when she noticed the fire engulfing hangar bay 2.

“And that’s me hoping in a boring day. How silly of me.” Joked Aedion from his seat behind Aelin. 

Aelin jumped off the truck and started shouting orders then joined again the officer “Do you have all staff accounted for?”

The man shook his head “Two engineers are missing and we have a few injured as well.”

Aelin shouted for the EMTs and the two women appeared in front of her in an instant “there are few injured that need treatment. Go and call for backup if you need it.” The taller brunette nodded and they disappeared again. 

Aedion’s voice reached her over the radio “copy that, Aedion. There are still two civilians trapped inside.” She turned to see her squad at work and a pang of pride rushed through her. They were an amazing well oiled machine and all the gruelling training paid off in the end. 

She turned to look at the grumpy officer and noticed the man was like a statue. His eyes fixed on the raging fire in front of them.

“We’ll get them out.” She offered as a comfort but the man didn’t even notice her. 

“Any idea on how it started?”

He turned his head slightly and his icy stare focused on her “isn’t that your job, captain?” She did not like the tone she used to call her captain. She could hear a veil of mockery.

“Ansel, Ress,” she shouted while donning the rest of her fire suit “direct the jet there.” She pointed to the location that looked like the epicentre. Once her mask and oxygen tank were on, she grabbed a fire extinguisher and ran into the building to join the rest of the squad.

Rowan stared at the woman ran into the fire. The captain had struck him stupid when she had the guts to challenge him without any fear. He was so used to give orders without ever receiving a rebuttal that it totally threw him off that the woman had fought him that way. Soon after he had found himself staring while she directed her squad to take positions and start to tackle the fire. She was fierce, of that he had no doubts. And with the same fierceness she had ran into the hangar and joined her team.

He was too busy staring at her that he missed the instant in which the structure had started to collapse on the ground. It went down as if made of paper and he froze at the realisation that there were still people inside the building. Engineers and firefighters alike. And for a brief second he felt a pang of panic for a woman he did not know and who had a temper of fire.

“Captain!” His head whipped to the side at the subtle veil of panic in the dark-haired man, handling the jet of water on their truck. “Lieutenant, come in.” But no sound came over the radio “fuck.” The man intensified the jet of water. 

Rowan knew that level of panic. He had experienced it a few times in his career. The soul crashing fear of losing a member of his team, the fear gripping his heart until a response came over the radio. He knew that fear very well. 

It took ten minutes for the auxiliary vehicles of the airbase to reach the site. They were not proper fire engines. For that they had to use the firefighters. But they could help and they started spreading a sort of special agent that slowly stifled the fire.

Rowan sighed in relief when he noticed some figures appearing from the smoke. The captain amongst them. Her hair was now covered in soot and her face just as dirty. He relaxed completely when he spotted the captain carrying one of the engineers and another fire fighters carrying the second one. The firefighter deposited the victims gently on the ground and the two EMTs went to check for them. He saw her collapsing on the ground on her knees then she stood, almost regretting that moment of weakness and went back to the engine to give some more orders. A tall blonde man approached her and after discussing something he moved away and stood staring at the collapsed building and the fire now fully extinguished.

She coughed once and then turned noticing the presence at her back.

“You should ask one of your EMTs to have a look at you.” His tone flat and devoid of emotions.

“I am fine.” She admitted with defiance “I don’t need you to babysit me. Sir or whatever rank your insignia has.”

“Captain. Captain Whitethorn.” And his words had a far gentler tone that he expected and it surprised him.

She walked away from him and went to the rest of the team to make sure everyone was okay and then checked on the civilians that had been saved and finally returned to captain Whitethorn.

“The two engineers will be fine.” She coughed one more time “They inhaled a lot of smoke but they are now on their way to the hospital for a few more checks. There are a few other with minor burns but everyone has been treated and on their way to the hospital as well.”

“Thank you.”

“Once the embers cool down I want to have a look at the site. Something clearly went completely wrong in here which means that some of your safety systems or your basic procedures are not working.”

“Are you saying that we are slacking in terms of safety?” His tone became harsh once again.

Aelin again stood straight in front of him “I saw sprinkles, but there was no trace of water which means they did not activate as soon as the fire started as they are meant to. Which in a place with so much fuel and flames is a big infraction and can land you in a shit ton of problems. Whoever was in charge of safety fucked up big time, Captain.”

Whitethorn ran his hand through his hair. That was his CO’s job. Lorcan was the one meant to look after all those things. But Lorcan had inherited a situation that was a bit of a clusterfuck and he had been working hard to fix it since his promotion. 

“I will need to come back tomorrow to do an inspection of the site and I want to inspect all the other remaining buildings and make sure they are up to code. And I don’t care if this is a restricted zone,” she moved a step closer to him and Whitethorn stared in her deep blue eyes “You get me a pass into here for tomorrow with access to all areas. And if you don’t, I’ll go high enough that when I come back you will have to roll out the red carpet. Do you read me on this Captain?”

He nodded silently. A part of him was in awe. Who was this woman? She did not seem to be intimidated by rank or a pretty uniform. He was speechless. Even civilians often tended to offer a certain level of respect to him just because of his rank. She stood in front of him, chin high and defiant. 

“Yes ma’am,” he heard himself say with unexpected obedience.

“Good. I will see you tomorrow, Captain Whitethorn.” She turned on her heels and left him still planted in his spot and completely stunned.

Aelin joined her team again and once the scene was cleared up and all the gear tucked back in the truck they left the premises.

“I hope Luca had some sort of food ready, I am starving.” Added Aelin sitting back in her seat in the truck.

“The day you will say that you are not hungry it will be a day when doom will descend upon us.” Chimed in Aedion.

“Hey, I use a lot of energy.”

“Sure, having a stand off with Captain silver fox must have been exhausting.”

Aelin turned and stared at Ansel. The red haired woman was smirking.

“He was being a pompous arsehole who think he is a god just because he wears a uniform.”

“Yeah, one hot arsehole though. I mean did you even notice him?”

Aelin did not reply. She had actually noticed him but her first impression of him hadn’t changed. The man was impossibly gorgeous but he still needed a bit of manners.

Eventually the squad got back to the station and got off the truck abandoning their equipment for checks later. “Let’s all go and get some chow in.”Aelin shouted while removing her boots “Aedion make sure you and Ansel check the truck and take Luca with you he needs some training in what we do after a call out.”

The ambulance pulled over beside them a bit later and the two women joined the rest of the group.

“Lys, all okay with the victims?”

The taller woman nodded “dropped them off. No serious injuries though.” Then she opened the back of the ambulance car and grabbed a clipboard and handed it to Aelin “our supplies order for the hospital. I was going to give it to you before but then we got called out and I forgot.”

Aelin grabbed the document “I’ll get it done today. You and Elide go and join the guys for food.”

Lysandra walked over to Aedion and dropped him a kiss on his lips. The two had been dating for years now and the whole squadron had been taking bets on when Aedion would pop the question. 

Aelin eventually joined the rest of her team for their meal and Luca had overdone himself and prepared some amazing food. She was ravenous, however during her meal her head kept going over the call they had received at the airbase. There were a few things that bugged her and she was looking forward to her visit the next morning to check the scene again. The sprinklers had been her first clue. She just hoped Captain tight-pants would be more willing to help after he had a nice night of sleep. 

It was much later when Aedion found her in her office buried under layers of folders and papers on her desk.

He gently knocked at her door “Lys and I are going home. Are you staying late again?”

“Aedion, look at these documents.” she passed him a pile of sheet of paper “That is the last safety check they had a look at the signature of who passed it.”

“Fucking Havillard senior.” The man had been the fire chief and had finally retired a few months before and the event had created a sense of relief in every single firefighter in Orynth. The man had a bad reputation and a penchant for currying far too many favours with politicians “I am so glad Dorian finally took over. He is a much better fire chief. He has done more for the fire department in a few months than his father in years of his rule.”

“I want to check every single thing he signed off as to code. I don’t trust the bastard and if he passed things not operating correctly I am going to cause a shitstorm.”

“And do what, Aelin? The man is retired and back to his mansion in Adarlan. There is nothing you can do.” Aedion was always the rational one and sometimes Aelin hated him for that.

“His negligence could have killed hundreds of people.”

“I know, but all we can do now is to fix his wrongs and make sure that the airbase is up to code. And keep your friend the Captain safe.”

Aelin snorted “Why everyone thinks I have the hots for the Captain?”

“I have known you all my life and you totally are into him. I recognised the signs.”

“Well, my dear cousin, you are highly mistaken.”

Aelin and Aedion were cousins. The man had served in the army and when he retired she had told him that her fire house was looking for recruits and asked if he wanted a shot at being a fire fighter. Aedion accepted and went through training at the academy and in the end the skills he had gained in the military had proven amazing for his new role. 

“Don’t tell me you guys are taking bets on me.”

Aedion laughed “my revenge for starting the one about me and Lys.”

Aelin growled “Yours is bound to happen eventually.” She looked at him “me and his stiffness? Not a chance. He might be hot as hell but he has no sense of humour and probably cannot go to the toilet unless he gets permission from his CO.”

Aedion sighed “That’s military training. It gets drilled into you from day one. He is still active and it’s normal. I am retired and still have that instinct.”

Aelin laughed “No, you don’t do anything without Lys’ approval.”

He nodded “I love her but the woman is scary. And now that she had Elide as a partner she is getting craftier.”

Aelin smiled “Go home and relax you two. Just don’t make me an aunt yet.”

“Don’t stay too long okay?” The man waved at her and left. 

Aelin sat five more minutes then she heard the second team arrive on the premises she packed up her stuff and decided to go home. She walked down the corridor greeting the other team and had a catch up with the lieutenant and eventually she left the station. The weather had turned cold and winter was definitely in the air. Aelin sniffled the air, cosied up in her jacket and walked home. It took her much longer than usual to go home as she took a different route and stopped at the park. Not the best idea at night but she had enough knowledge of hand to hand combat that she would easily kick the arse of whoever tried to assault her. She stopped in her favourite spot and leaned against the rail to look at the ducks in the pond. Going back home was still hard. Since she had lost Sam she hated her empty house. Even after over a year. They were both firefighters. He was the captain at the west station. They had met during a call out and got along from the start. Then got along a bit more until things got serious and they moved in together. They had two years of happiness until he went out on a call with his squadron and thing went south. He and another firefighter lost their lives that night. It had been over a year now but her heart still ached and missed him.

She heard ambulance sirens in the background and her instinct was to look for a cause for it. 

She said goodbye to the ducks and eventually walked home.

The next morning Aelin had got to work so early that the second team was still on. She had shared breakfast with them and was glad to hear they had a quiet night with just a call.

She walked back to her office and went over one the documents one more time. As a courtesy she decided tray and phone Captain Whitethorn but then realised she did not have his number and doubted the airbase would advertise its number freely. Ach well, he knew they she was going. 

Once Aedion arrived she gave him instructions on what to do while she was away. She wanted a few more drills run and the truck scrubbed and equipment checked. She knew that when she was away they tended to have far too much fun “And if I come back and I discover you guys slacked off I am going to unleash Lysandra on you.”

“I will keep them in check.”

“You better.” And with that she left and drove away to the airbase. 

It took her a good half an hour to finally reach the main gate. She got out of the car and went to the guards posted at the entrance “Hi, I am a firefighter on the TFD. I am here to see Captain Whitethorn, he is waiting for me.”

“What is your name?”

“Captain Aelin Galathynius.”

The man walked away to check something with another guard and got back to her “You can go in. The Captain will meet you at the next check point.”

Aelin grunted. They did not have this many checks the day before. Although, with a building on fire they were probably quite eager to have them in as soon as possible.

She got back in the car and drove the short distance where another military man stopped her and she noticed the captain behind him. Still stiff and a face that deserved to be punched. 

He knocked on her passenger window and Aelin lowered the glass “good morning, Captain.”

“I will need to get in the car.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and unlocked the door for him.

“Follow the main road until you see the main building. Park there and we’ll get you all signed in.”

What was his problems? Didn’t they used greeting in the military?

Aelin drove in silence until she spotted the main building.

“Park over there.” She sensed the command in his voice.

She did as told and once done she grabbed all her stuff from the back of the car and followed him. He had exited the vehicle and started walking not bothering waiting for her.

She was going to kill him. 

Once inside the main building she found him waiting for her at the reception area with a clipboard in his hands “Fill this in.” Again, that tone of command and not a single please.

Aelin had a look and realised they were annoyingly thorough in term of security “Do you want my bra size as well?” She smiled at him “it’s a 38A, by the way.”

No reaction. She sighed and filled in all her details. Once she was done the captain took the clipboard and gave her her badge “Keep this on you at all times Miss Galathynius.”

“You can call me Aelin. I gave you my bra size, I guess we are on a name basis kind of relationship.” She grabbed the badge and wore it around her neck.

“Were do you want to start?”

Fine. No jokes and back to business “your office for starters.”

“I thought you wanted to see the fire scene.”

“Yes, but I need to ask a few questions first.” And she waved the big pile of documents in her hand.

He tensed and with a hand he gestured for her to follow him. 

They walked until they reached an office at the end of a corridor “This is my CO office. I discussed the situation with him and he believes it’s a matter that needs his presence as well.”

“The more the merrier” and flashed him a smile but she had no reaction from him.

They entered the room and Aelin froze. The man in front of her was huge. He stood to greet her and she thought she had never met anyone as tall as the man behind the desk.

“Sir, this is the Captain.”

“Miss Galathynius, isn’t it?”

“Captain, if you don’t mind. I earned my rank like all of you, even if I am a woman.”

“I am Air Commodore Lorcan Salvaterre.” She shook his hand and took a seat after he offered. Captain Whitethorn stood behind her, rigid and cold as his usual. Gods, the man needed to get laid. 

“I believe you had some concerns with regard to that accident from yesterday.”

“I do.” And she slammed the pile of documents on the desk. If they wanted to play tough, they had met their match “My first concern is that some of your safety checks are two years old. As you are aware Mr Salvaterre, considered the nature of your business and the level of dangerous materials present on site you are required by law an annual check.” She passed over a piece of paper with the current regulations “and again in your case there are aspects that need to be checked twice a year and you have not done so.” She sat back on the chair “Yesterday I noticed that the sprinkles had not activated during the fire. Again, your reports show that the last maintenance check was three years ago.” Another sheet landed on the man’s desk “A hangar that could, according to your plans, have up to a 100 personnel on site at the same time, only had one fire exit.”

“If you had a look at hangar bay two blueprints you could see why only one exit was added.”

Aelin unfolded the blueprints in challenge. They had no idea who they were dealing with “I can see that one side of the hangar share the door with the airstrip and I can see that this is a very bad idea for an evacuation spot. However,” and she pointed at the plan “this area here, as you can see is perfectly safe. It offer protection from a possible explosion of fire and it looks like it could accommodate at least half of the staff.” She closed the folder “I am going to be frank with you. It’s a miracle you are still allowed to operate. This are only the biggest infractions, I am sure that once I will inspect the site of the fire I will find more.”

She noticed Salvaterre flinch.

“I am also aware that it was the old fire chief who signed off the last inspections and that explains a lot. The man had been a thorn in my side for a very long time but his son is a far more capable chief.” She sat comfortably again “My concern here is for all the staff. Yesterday could have had a far worse outcome. I can see that at least your team has a good grasp on how safely evacuate and I am positive that once we add a second door it will be even more efficient.”

“Any big changes will have to get approved by the military.”

“Well, get that done. If you value your people you will grovel until you get what you need. You don’t seem the man to back down from a valid fight.” She leaned forward a bit, not breaking eye contact with him.

“What do you suggest?”

“I will make you a deal.” She offered “I am aware it might take some time to fix all the issues and bring the whole base up to code. I am giving you six months. Work with us, I am willing to help as a consultant. I had a chat with chief Havillard and he is okay with my plan and authorised me to cooperate with you.”

“I guess I can work with that.” Then he stared at Captain Whitethorn behind her “Captain Whitethorn will be you liaison. I am too busy, but he has my authorisation to help you with what you need.”

She turned to the man at her back and noticed at his panicked face “I am sure the Captain and I will have fun. We are best buddies already.” She flashed him a smile and the man flinched. Well, at least that was a reaction. 

“Perfect. Captain Galathynius I expect you will keep me updated on the progress.” And he offered her his business card “my email is at the bottom. It’s the best way to get in touch with me.”

“Thank you sir,”Aelin said pocketing the card. The man was just as cold as the captain but seemed a bit more willing to cooperate “Now if you’ll excuse me sir I have some work to do.”

The man nodded and Captain Whitethorn walked outside, probably already dreading the idea of working with her. She was not ecstatic either. 

They were walking toward the hangar when four men stopped them and Whitethorn stopped 

“I thought I told you to go over the last tactics we developed.” He really had no idea on how to talk to people.

“We just finished.” Said the older of the group.

“Hi gorgeous.” 

Aelin turned to the voice and saw a stunning blonde man staring at her “I am Flight Lieutenant Fenrys Moonbeam, m’lady. I hope our cold hearted captain is treating you nicely. We have been trying to teach him manners…”

Aelin laughed. So they had sense of humour. It was just Whitethorn.

“Lieutenant, why don’t you go and clean your jet until it shines like a mirror?”

Fenrys got closer to her “he is old and cranky.” Then he straightened up “call me if you need a fun guide during your time at the base, Captain.”

“Lieutenant!” Whitethorn barked with a tone that did not admit any more games. 

The older man grabbed Fenrys arm and pulled him away “let’s go pup. Don’t anger the man.”

“Bye guys.” Aelin waved as they walked away.

“They are my squadron.” Whitethorn finally spoke and she turned at him in surprise “The man who took Fenrys away is Gavriel and he is Wing Commander. He is basically my second. The other two were Vaughan and Connall and, well, Fenrys. They are all Flight Lieutenants.” He sighed “Fenrys is a good pilot but he is still young.”

“The only person with a sense of humour inside here and you shot him down that way?” She shook her head “Come on grampa, let’s go and do our job.”

Aelin walked away with a swagger and when she was not looking his lips bent in a fraction of a smile. The woman was a force of nature and for some reason he could not explain why he had spent the previous night wondering about the fierce woman who had not backed down and who face him fiercely. Not that he would ever admit to anyone, but  he found her madly attractive. 

She was now walking in front of him and was almost skipping and he had to try very hard not to chuckle at the scene.

“You are going the wrong way.” His tone cold again.

“Well, then get your arse in front of me and lead the way.” She stopped and waited for him to walk past her. While behind him she sneaked a peak at the man and she realised that Ansel had been right. Her gaze lingered on his backside and some very improper thoughts passed through her mind. Her gaze trailed up to his broad shoulders and lingered on his short silver hair and then dropped to the strong hands folded behind his back. Some very improper thought passed through her mind but she shook them off. He was a horrible man. She was not going down that road. Boundaries. 

“We are here.” His voice woke her up from her thoughts.

From her bag Aelin extracted two masks and a torch. She threw one of the masks to Mr cranky pants “put this on. There will be still fumes lingering and they are very toxic.”

Thankfully he accepted the mask without complaints. It looks like he was intelligent enough to understand the risks.

He unlocked the place and allowed Aelin to go in first. He trailed behind and let her work in silence. 

“What kind of jobs do you do in here?”

“Hangar two is were the jets needing heavy maintenance are moved to. Hangar one is the main one where all the jets ready for take off are kept.”

She moved around pointing the light in some specific areas “Am I correct in saying that the planes in here do not have any fuel and are not armed.”

She saw him nod “The fuel is removed as soon as they are moved in here. A small amount is added only when they need to be moved back to the main hangar. And yes, no weapon of any type is held here or in hangar one for all that matters. We have very tight procedure for ammunition and the missiles are loaded only an hour prior to take off and armed only after the jets have left the base.”

Aelin nodded, well, at least it seemed that on some areas they had their shit together.

She moved to what looked like the epicentre of the fire and crouched down and touched a strange puddle on the floor. She smelled it and cursed. That smelled like kerosene but a doubt was nagging her. The puddle looked big enough to be a leak.

“Do you keep track of the repairs done in each bay?”

“We do and I have the jobs recorded for yesterday in bay four.” Then his eyes reacted in shock “It looks like the jet in bay four had suffered a fuel tank leak and was scheduled for a repair or possibly a replacement.”

Aelin walked around the charred remains of the jet then she noticed a panel missing on the side “help me here Captain, what is this panel for?” And she flashed the light inside the livery.

“This is the access panel for the tank. It looks like they had started the works already.”

“I am allowed to make a guess Captain?”

“By all means.” He stood at her side.

“My theory is that while the tank was emptied fuel leaked out. Whoever did the job, did not realise it. Once the tank was empty he proceeded with the replacement job and used tools that might have caused a spark and ignited the fuel and caused the explosion. Am I getting closer?”

“I have a feeling ma’am that you are on the right track, alas.”

She crouched again and stared at the puddle “however, this is not how kerosene works… kerosene does not catches fire easily. It has a high flash point.” she muttered to herself then she turned to the man behind her “Captain, are you using a special type of fuel? Jets are usually powered by kerosene.”

He froze and she knew she had hit the jackpot.

He cleared his throat “we have been experimenting with other fuels and liquid oxygen.”

“Fuck,” muttered Aelin turning and standing “do you really need all that power?”

“As I said we have been experimenting. This plane was one of the new prototypes.” He confessed.

“How many of these monsters do you have?”

“I am not allowed to tell. This is as much as I have been authorised to say.”

“Damn it Captain.” She shouted.

“They are not on the premises and in a very remote location away from inhabited areas. This one was here for testing.” His face grew dark all of a sudden “I was meant to fly it.”

Aelin gasped “are you telling me that you were willing to strap yourself in this crazy thing and risk your life with something clearly not stable?”

He looked away “It’s my job after all.”

“Shit.” Aelin stood and walked away. Why was she even caring about him.

“Captain…”

But she brushed him off and kept inspecting the area “your fire extinguishers a too far away and it takes a person too much time to grab one. And you need more.” Then she turned to the Captain “I assume they at least know how to use it…” he nodded.

“Well, that’s a start but we will have refresher session. That never hurts and you guys will have to do it as well.”

He nodded.

“Fine. Take me to hangar bay one.”

“Follow me.” He just said and started walking still thinking about her reaction and was stunned that for a moment she had seemed to care.

The two walked in silence and Aelin followed him looking around the base and noticing things.

Once in the main hangar bay, Whitethorn opened the door and Aelin stood still at the sight. In front of her there were at least ten jets. All painted in the Terrasen green. They were a sight to behold.

“I am not sure I agree with their use but they look majestic.”

The captain nodded while he stood at her side, hands folded behind his back “come.”

He walked to one of the jets, said something to one of the engineers buzzing around it and it was just the two of them “This one is mine.”

Aelin traced her hand to the livery “Iceman?” She asked noticing the word painted just under the canopy.

“My call sign.”

Aelin chuckled “I guess it fits you perfectly.” Then she walked to the stepladder “Can I?” She asked. She was dying to sit in the cockpit. Just for a few minutes. She could not get distracted but she wanted to do it.

The Captain moved closer to her “be careful on the ladder.” She flashed him a smug smile and Whitethorn kept a watchful eye while she climbed turning his head when her backside was basically in his face. Once at the top she climbed over the edge and sat in the cockpit quite skilfully and now she looked down at him with a big grin. His heart jumped. When she smiled she was the most stunning creature he had seen. A brat, but still a gorgeous brat.

A moment later he had noticed she had taken his helmet and was now trying to wear it. He held back a chuckle and climbed the ladder “let me.” He was so close to her that he could smell her scent of lavender and jasmine. He helped her fastening the helmet properly then he turned to some of the dials on the dashboard.

“This is the altimeter” for some reason he leaned forward and started to explain her some of the dials in the cockpit “this is to check the speed and this one tells how many g’s we are pulling. That is—“ but he got interrupted.

“I know what that is Captain. How many g’s do you pull max?”

“9 in a vertical steep ascent, dogfights and in some turns as well. We never sustain it for too long because it’s dangerous.” He leaned on the livery “we wear special suits called G suits that help with the pressure and we undergo a crazy amount of training in the centrifuge and we also have to keep a strict exercise and health regime.”

That, she had noticed the previous day and on a couple of occasions she had imagined the amount of muscles under that uniform of his.

“Let’s get back to work.” She said, saving herself from the strange direction her thoughts had wondered. She stood and the Captain straightened and moved closer to her “be careful, climbing is much easier than coming down.” She turned and gave her back to him and felt a phantom of his hand on her back. He was not touching her but she could feel his hand lingering there, protecting her.

“Ok, one rung at a time.” His tone had changed as well and somehow the iciness had gone “Good, one more and you are there.”

Aelin climbed off the last rung and turned only to crash into his hard chest. She had not realised how close he was standing and when she looked up she met his eyes. They looked brighter and they had a strange light she could not place. As soon as she realised how close they were standing she backed away and for a very brief second she thought she noticed disappointment in his expression.

“Thank you for that Captain. Now I can brag that I sat in a fighter jet.”

He nodded but did not added anything. 

They finished inspecting the main hangar and Aelin looked puzzled “How is it possible that this hangar is all up to code and perfect. Such a discrepancy does not make sense.”

“Salvaterre took over from our old CO only six months ago.” He sighed “do you want the diplomatic answer or the actual truth?”

“What do you think?” Her answer was a bit harsher than she intended “Sorry, I did not mean it like that. The truth of course.”

“Our old CO was very much a friend with Havillard senior. And I think politics and money are the answer to your question.”

“I don’t fucking it believe it.” She almost shouted in frustration “so these bastards prefer to save some money and leave a hangar with very little safety?” She leaned against the plane and looked up to try and calm down for a moment “It’s disgusting.”

“We both got new COs who both seem to be more decent individual. Let’s leave the past where it is and fix things from now onwards.”

Aelin smiled at him “this might be one of the wisest thing you said since I met you.”

Whitethorn glared at her but she ignored him.

They spent another hour going around the base and Aelin completed her inspection. There were some issues but all things that could be easily fixed and she was relieved that although the base was not in its best of state it was definitely not as in bad condition as she thought after the disaster in the secondary hangar.

“Captain, that’s me all done. I would like you to come to the station tomorrow so we can discuss an action plan and put forward some ideas for your CO.”

“I can do that. Do you have a preferred time?”

“Would morning at 9am be okay for you or is it too early?”

“It’s fine.” 

“Amazing.” Aelin flashed him a very bright smile and then extracted a card from the pocket of her jacket “These are my contact details. If you have any question you can email me or phone me.” She pointed at the card “that is my direct phone number at work. The address of the fire station is on as well.”

The man accepted the card and placed in the trousers pockets of his uniform.

“Well, Captain Whitethorn, thank you for today. And I will see you tomorrow.” She extended her hand and the man took it.

He nodded and in silence he walked her back to the check point. Another nod and he turned on his heels with military precision and walked away.

Aelin stood to study the man for a moment. She found him fascinating. He was still an emotionless prick but there was something that got her attention. She hoped that working together would become easier in the long run otherwise it would be a very long and touch liaison mission.

Eventually she got back in the car and returned to work.

[robinrequiems]

mmm more clishes.... Idk reverse background or personality kind of au? :/

ill do you one better 1 of my favorite mutual, reverse & personality au, they’re the same age bc I have a tiny idea *shy hands*

this is uh. a really long one thay started to lag my phone too

• oh god guys I got vivid memories of ra’s being a good grandfather and I can’t get it out of my head

• i hate it ur honor

• but ok. krypton didn’t get blown up, instead, they all migrated to earth, more specifically kansas.

• the kryptonians are angry and enraged, they are treated as if they are monsters when they arrived peacefully. they tried to kill them.

• so in return, the aliens killed the humans.

• they created a secret underground. that secret underground is to help aliens or meta humans and kill humans.

• all of them hated aliens and sought to destroy them. until kal el found a reporter trying to help aliens who were injured due to an explosion the government did to take out one of their bases.

• kal el.. fell in love with her. lois lane, she is an reporter fighting for alien rights.

• he met with her. in secret. and they.. had formed a connection. an amazing one.

• and then they had a baby.

• at the alien base, but.. she was human and people did not like that. so they wiped her mind and made her believe that they never had a kid. like the last few months.. wasnt real. she had gone missing those months since the aliens didn’t want her trying to hide the baby, they made her believe the last few months was spent in a coma and kal had found her and taken her to a hospital.

• he couldn’t see her anymore. he mourned for her lost presence, but they would have killed her if she stayed.

• but now they had precious jon el. he would be the highlight of their cause.

• they noticed his powers came in faster than kal’s, so they perfected his powers.

• he was going to bring humanity down on order of his grandfather, jor el

• kal saw his son break slowly. loses that childhood innocence that kal tried to maintain.

• his sons amazing bright blue eyes dulling, loses the spark that he cherished.

• kal was going to get him out of there, try to refuge the remaining childhood he had. even if it killed him.

—

• damian wayne! the bright bubbly and prodigal son of bruce and talia wayne ( b & t are married, suck my— ). the press loved him, he was just.. him. he was the baby and was cute, the cutest ever

• he was an expert in martial arts due to the training his grandfather, father, mother, & so much more gave him

• ra’s owns a farm. he’s.. sorry all i get is farm ra’s vibes due to.. something:) think endgame thanos, yk?

• he was the baby robin, one that you never messed with due to the herd of heroes who would come save him

—

• kalel left jon with Lois, a brief note explaining the current situation

• it was weird, jon was ten and was meeting lois for the first time

“Hi, honey.. I’m lois.”

“I know.. Dad told me about you.”

“Oh.. right. What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

“No! I’m not hungry!”

• an explosive, superpower alien. Lois is way out of her head.

• he had outbursts, a lot of them. it was hard, really hard for Lois; she took some time off from the planet and focused on jon

• he broke a lot of stuff. he sometimes could not control his strength, but she was working with him

• but then one night he ran away, or flew away. he felt remorse for making Lois cry. she saw this as a win, but she lost her kid

• but then a little robin found him

“Um. Are you okay?”

“Huh-what- what do you want? Why are you talking to me?”

“Because you look sad? Yknow - hugs make people feel better. My ahki ( brother ) hugs me when I’m upset and it makes me feel better.”

“Don’t touch me.”

*Damian walked to him, smiling softly* “cmon, i won’t hurt you, silly. I’m robin.”

“A bird?”

“Haha- no, a vigilante- i sorta snuck out. My family can be a bit overbearing- and I sorta embarrassed myself at this theater thing.. some person—“

“Did I ask?”

“No.. sorry.”

“Hey— what are you doing - !”

“Hugging you.”

Jon won’t admit that he likes it, it’s different and weird, like this traffic cone in front of him. Jon pushed him off though, making himself stumble and fall on his ass.

“Ow..”

“Don’t touch me.” With rhat, Jon flew off into the night. Damian didn’t know who this boy was. But he intended on finding out. Even if it killed him. ( maybe not that extreme, but- )

• look damian was smart, right? smarter than average, and smarter than everyone in his school. teachers included ( ha ha )

• so he had to find this boy! so he started looking into aliens. until his family put an end to it

“Damian, this is dangerous.”

“But baba ( dad )”

“No. Go to your room.”

“Ugh!”

• he did slam his door shut if you were wondering

• he will find the mysterious alien boy, okay? he will!

• his brothers teased him and said he had a crush

• no he didn’t! the boy was really mean, he pushed damian- why would he do that? whatta jerk!

• but damian did find him again when he ventured off to metropolis to visit an old friend, colin.

“Alien boy!”

“That’s not my name, bird boy.”

“And that’s not mine. You didn’t tell me yours!”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s safer for you.”

“I can defend myself. You sound so silly, please tell me your name?”

“No.”

“‘Least the first initial?”

“Fine. J.”

“J it is.”

“Yours?”

“Wha- what? I told you my code named.”

“It’s only fair.”

“.. Okay. D.”

“D. Okay.”

• damian talked to him for a bit before jon did fly off when damian was talking about the stars, damian knew he was getting closer to him

• but he got grounded. whoops. he wasn’t supposed to go out

“Give me your phone, Damian.”

“What if I go out? I need a phone, baba.”

“I.. Your computer”

“School work.”

“Switch.”

“What! No- but-!”

“Damian.”

• yeah damian was very mad, but what made him madder was that apparently, his family was listening to the secret conversations between J and him. but d didn’t know that yet..

• his family needed to track down J, they didn’t care if people were aliens, the JL had aliens.. but they had no idea who this boy was, and the way damian was looking into the underground alien sanctuary, that worried rhem. Damian was smart and cunning, but he is able to portray an innocent persona, they all had the habit of undermining his intellect, so if damian began looking into this, it was for a reason

—

• jon found that D rambled. A lot. Even when jon didn’t respond. Jon doesn’t even know how D always found where he was. It’s so weird.

• but Lois noticed a change in jon.. he was. calmer. she didn’t know how, but when he went out, he came back calmer.

“I have to go to Gotham for a gala hosted by Bruce Wayne, would you.. like to come?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I’d like you to, but you don’t have to.”

“.. Fine.”

—

• lois walked to bruce with Jon in tow.

• “bruce.” “Lois, looking lovely as always.. who is this?” “Jon, my son. Say hi, Jon.” “Hi..” “He can hang around one of my sons— Damian, if you want? I’m sure him and his friends would love to have Jon around.” “What do you say Jon? Would you like that?” “Not really..” “I assume you, Damian doesn’t bite. Not anymore. And he’s pretty accepting.” “.. Fine.”

• damian was called over by his father and he did a double take. J. Was here. In front of him. Damian just internally shrugged and held a hand out, “Hi! I’m Damian! Wanna go play with my friends! there’s a game room so we don’t have to be with the gross adults.. you can also just.. sit there. My friends are pretty.. Loud?” “Okay.”

• jon had to take his hand back from damian since damian began eagerly tugging him.

“Damian seems to be accepting him pretty easily.” “I hope they can be friends, Jon.. doesn’t have any. I have only recently got him from his.. father.” “Odd, does he go to school?” “No, not yet, I’m still trying to get him adjusted.” “Ah.. Damian goes to West-Reeves. Maybe he could go there?” “That private school? Bruce.. I cannot afford that- not all of us are millionaires.” “Mhm.. I could pay.” “I can’t let you do that.” “He could get a scholarship.” “In what?” “Academics or athletics.” “Ill.. Talk to him about it. “ “well, ms lane, I just go talk with potential partners, I’ll see you later.”

—

• j got accepted into west reeves under a athletic thingy.

• that was cool. they became best friends!

• sorta

• flashforward 5 years to 15, their dynamic only grew. Damian told Jon his identity, jon didn’t become a hero, but did learn how to stitch damian up because tje idiot showed up bleeding a lot.

• everything was going great

On the phone, Damian: J! J! Guess what’

J: you’re so loud, D, what?

D: I got the lead! In the play!

J: no fucking way?

D: way!

J: Good j—— *crash*

D: J-?

D: J- Jonathan?

D: oh no.

• the call was ended abruptly. Jon always finished his sentences. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

• so damian called Lois quickly and ran downstairs to the batcave, lois wasn’t picking up either, she normally always picked up or at least sent a text. She did neither

“Baba!”

“Damian? You should be asleep.”

“Something’s wrong! Somethings really wrong!”

“Jon and Lois- Jon- I heard a crash- and- and”

“Habibi.”

“Mama?”

“Breathe; tell me what’s wrong.”

“I was on a call with Jon.. I told him about the play since I wanted him to go and stuff. Then I heard a crash. And then the line went dead. I’m scared— what if something happened!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, what happened with Lois?”

“She didn’t pick up the phone— she normally does! Or she texts me and says she will call back!”

“Maybe she is asleep.”

“No! You need to believe me!”

“Damian, calm down, I do, we will go to see if they’re okay, you get back to bed.”

“No. I’m coming with.”

“No you arent.”

“But!”

“Listen to your father.”

• okay fine. He’ll listen, damian went back up to his room for half an hour before calling his friends to do a rescue mission. He had an extra suit in his room, he can do this.

• with his team, it consisted of shazam, abuse, nobody, and green lantern, himself too, of course.

• captain marvel picked him up once he was ready and they met up with the other 3.

Maya: you said he’s in trouble?

Dami: Yes.

Colin: than let’s go save him!

• they went and saved the bestie, nearly got killed too

• oh and now damians sorta probably grounded when batman shows up 🤡

J:You came for me..?

D:We all did.. why are you so surprised?

J: * wraps his arms around damian * thank you

D: i- yeah.. anytime. what’re friends for?

• friends. Jon liked that. Jon also liked the way Damian’s cheeks went red when jon hugged him

• jon knew he chuckled before Damian’s arms wrapped around him. hard. Damian was a hard hugger

• jon became a superhero at 16. Damian had even more of a reason to sneak into his window every night now! Lois had began thinking the two were dating

D: Us? Dating? Please! He is way too good for me!

J:

L: awwww, gosh, how haven’t you been swept off your feet yet?

J: he has, but he has rejected them all

D: what can I say? I’m a gay theater kid ( this is a /j i promise a big big joke ) so they gotta be dramatic enough to put up with me, AND they need to do something big and bold to actually catch my eye

L: *laughs* take notes, jon

J: mom!

• jon has gone to a few of Damian’s plays and to dress rehearsals

• he was also there to watch damian wreck a car during his drivers test

D: there was a fricking squirrel there, J!

J: are you sure? maybe you’re just a shitty driver?

D: you’re a shitty driver!

J: cmon don’t pout

D: ‘m not!

• he was pouting. oopsie. jon did get him ice cream after

• jon goes by abnormal, because he’s an alien and because I don’t have any other ideas

J: this girl asked me out

M: oh? who! tell us!

D: ..what?

J: yeah, in my physics class

T: ooh! get it, jonno

M: give us a name, coward!

J: her name is Charlotte— but she goes by charlie. she’s.. different. red head. pretty freckles—

M: pretty freckles? does Jonny have a crush?! Oh my gosh, our sons growing up, Tai!

T: im about to start sobbing

J: fuck offff— D?

D: huh?

J: you’re being quiet, you plotting??

D: uh. yeah! duh- *he nudged jons shoulder with his, forcing a grin* figuring out ways to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend.

J: sucha brat- * jon ended up putting Damian into a playfully chokehold *

• damian just played along. he just smiled and watched as jon began walking with her instead of their friend group

M: hey- kid- you alright?

D: I’m onto a year younger than you Maya.

M: tou didn’t answer the question

D: I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be? You’re silly.

• tai ended up pulling him aside

T: when are you going to tell him?

D: how am I supposed to when he basically has a girlfriend now?

T: are you just gonna sit there and pine all day??

D: yes, thank you for understanding

• he’s a stubborn little shit and will absolutely not confess, his best friend is happy, who is he to ruin that?

T: he’s totally jealous.

J: so- do you- do you think it’ll work? That he’ll be surprised?

T: totally

J: thank you for lending me your girlfriend, Maya

M: anytime- not literally- you aren’t having her again

• this was all a trick, sorry, d.. jon does like you

• ( hope you all saw that foreshadowing earlier :) )

• damian needed big and dramatic. jon was gonna do that. even if he was uh. sorta aloof and shy.

• he learned how to sing and play the guitar for Damian. maya and tai were gonna scatter flower petals onto the floor for Damian to follow ( they will tell him too too )

• the whole school will probably watch as Damian finally gets a big dramatic proposal

• damian will love it

M: just follow the petals!

D: I’m confused

M: trust us

• damian did and followed the petals and low and behold, jon kent with a guitar and small smile

D: j-jon?

J: hey. I wrote you a song

D: no you didn’t

J: shut up and listen dumbass

*after that amazing song of how Jon asked damian out to homecoming*

D: that was amazing

J: dramatic enough for you?

D: YES! ( damian went and sprinted to jon, hugging him so tightly before leaning in to kiss him ) we are boyfriends now right

J: yeah, idiot

D: ur the idiot

• I can’t add anymore because myphones really laggy, I hope you enjot

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

ok bhah ch11 my longest yeah boi ever

i’m literally... so excited I can’t even read it ok ok

oh no not the wedding invitations not this

i swear to god if we have to go through this wedding. knifeemoji

listen I have a fear that we’re gonna get the break up and the car accident same as canon dear god don’t put us through that either

no fears *literally everything that could make bhah more painful* several fears dot meme

god not the jamie invite. she cant even do it. another sign from god you are choosing to ignore

straight to Jamie’s house oh

lmao the red door I just worked out that’s a hill house reference from when I was wondering in like ch3(?) lol the inner workings of my dumbass brain never stop

“can we talk?” it’s happening what is happening

Dani was so tired of lying oh my god

my heart is literally beating so fast

alone in Jamie’s room bro wtf wtf

Jamie is just so soft and understanding always always aaaahhhhh

fuck she just wants out of this wedding so bad but she can’t even tell him

AAAHHH SHE KISSED HER OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING

fuck fgkjhdfkjgh this is not good oh no. Dani finally finally fucking doing something for herself and Jamie so aware that this cannot be happening like this right now

and yet both of them just falling into it anyway oh my goddddd

jesus christ jesus christ “Dani had half crawled into Jamie’s lap, kissing her with a fierce and fervent heat” I am on deaths door

god they’ve both wanted this for so so so so long I can’t believeeeeee

(i am so thrilled that y’all just went there right away btw)

“Please, just - I just want to feel how I’m supposed to.” oucchhhh Dani

god her just... knowing. after one kiss w Jamie that she can finally do it and talk to him and end it and it’s so terrifying but goddd yes

“You think I can ever say no to you?” oof

“Ask,” Jamie breathed. “Ask me.” fucking fuck the power of this line oh my god Jamie is so fucking ready to jump of a bridge for her it’s- the dedication the love the longing the everything I am going insane is it too early to start drinking at 1pm

you’re not you can’t NOT THE CANON DINER SCENE

fuck this is like watching a car crash i can’t look away it’s so fucking visceral and nerve-wracking and painful

but god I’m so proud of her for finally saying what she wants

oh thank fuck y’all didn’t take him out with a passing delivery truck

“You must have known. You know me.” oh god this sentiment always kills me

“She couldn’t say it — the words ‘I’m gay’ forever out of reach — so instead she said, “I can’t.”” my whole body is on fire oh my god this is.... too fucking real

jesus christ the near miss w the truck are u trying to kill me (i actually kind of love that Dani will have to deal w her feelings w him face to face instead of having to bury it all in grief like in canon I am so excited to see how y’all handle that)

a fucking HOUR in the car dfkjghdfkjh the torture

oh honey. literally both of them suffering so much ouch

her favourite saucepan pls this is all so awful and sad but that make me laugh so much the poor confused little duck I am glad she has her comforts

god poor Dani

"Is she here to cook something?"  fgkjdhfkgjhfkjgdf

“No. I think you’re brave.” oh

“We’ll figure it out." listen listen I am undoubtedly losing my mind god this is soft

“She had spent so long being asked and not asking. Never asking. She never dared. To ask was to be known, to be made visible, words forging reality as surely as a smith’s hammer. And yet Jamie waited, letting Dani gather the courage herself.

"Can I -?" Dani said, "- stay?"” please fuck I am just so !!!!!!!! about Dani getting to know what she wants and having a fucking voice. just !!!!!!!!

“Jamie inviting her in” fucking just both of them finally getting some of that quiet courage w each other I am yelling so much

“Dani knew that it wasn't just her feeling this, that it had never just been her.” YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT BABEY

““But you do?” Dani asked. “Want to?”

Jamie’s answering laugh was brief and incredulous. “You have no idea.”” I AM: HOOTIN. AND: HOLLERIN

“I am here” hello? hello I am not coping I am on another plane of existence. DANI FINALLY FEELING SO PRESENT AND WHOLE IN THIS MOMENT

god they’re just holding each other i’m tearing up. Jamie is her home

Dani finally sleeping through the night ow my fucking heart

Mikey’s so chill about all of this sdkdhfdkj I love him

Jamie going out n buying her favourite jam... god the tenderness. love is stored in the strawberry jam and the hairdryer

hmmmmm her attraction to Jamie is so closely tied to a lot of really hard feelings this is gonna take a bit to work through huh???

aw Jamie going to Carson I am so happy she has her little band of gays to help her rn

I love that she can just kiss her now when she gets the urge like maybe chill out a lil just landing all these surprise kisses but like good for u girl. good for both of u

the warmth of the house hmmmmm I love that she’s found this esp because she is perpetually cold and Jamie is always warm but keeps it like that for the kid (and probably for Dani too) aaahhhh

cgjkdfhkjgh Dani is so thirsty poor Jamie trying to keep them in check. these moments are so fucking loaded holy shit

Dani Jamie and Mikey are the cuuutest lil family aw

god the tentativeness between them trying to figure this all out and the casual intimacy and just. all of it is so much and so beautiful to watch unfold

i love this little bubble inside Jamie’s house and Jamie kind of drawing the curtains around them both physically and metaphorically while she lets Dani figure things out and lets it settle between them

it’s all about the hands

oh my god Hannah instantly asking if she needs a place to stay she really is the best

soft little mornings with her Jamie like... once Dani finally defeats the ball of guilt in her chest there is so much goodness to look forward to and I am v glad she has that right now even as she is still struggling a bit. my girl needs all the sweetness in her life

also the idea of Jamie getting to wake up to sleeping Dani in her bed every morning after a lifetime of trying to repress her feelings... god

heh she’s already figuring out all the ways to push Jamie’s buttons god these two are going to have some fun w each other

this idea of learning the creaking floorboards of a new home is so... warm

Jamie leaving all the curtains drawn for her oh my heart keeping her safe keeping her safe

Nan would be so proud of ms Dani u know it’s true

awww Mikey comin home to keep her company

Mikey Dani time is always so sweet I love them

my god Dani n Jamie are so intense w each other and just so full of fucking desire... when those floodgates finally open will they even survive

oof Dani is dealing with soooo much ugh. Jamie always there with a gentle way to bring her back down to earth tho my hearrrtttt

“You’re allowed to be happy.” she is SHE IS ty Jamie Taylor voice of reason

a pinky promise to deal with everything together awwww

“why are you so good to me” “you know why” oh my goddddddd. that’s so soft that’s so gentle that’s so much love

Dani finding little bits in herself in media god i love this

Dani Mikey hours best hours

god Carson... sweet boy. And Judy sending over a whole bunch of food oof just. these quiet little reminders of their love for her. Dani’s about to go through a whole bunch more emotions huh?

fkjdfkjgfh Mikey going into protector mode when Carson is there pls i love hm

ohmy “our room” aaaaaaahhhhh

god Dani expecting him to be upset with her I am so fucking emotional. I relate far too much to Dani in canon and in this story and it’s just. painful as hell to see someone go through the things you know hurt the most holy shit

please Carson is so sweet and understanding and telling her he’s proud of her is making me cry so much I can barely see

this whole like.. uncomfortable but relief-filled kind of coming out between her and Carson is so so beautifully done I can’t stop fucking crying

“God, you two were agony to watch.”  fglkdfgkjdfhkjgh Carson a voice of the people

“You deserve to be happy.” - Carson and also me and also everyone reading this

god he is so wonderful!!!!!! this reminder that she’s not alone and everything will be ok!!!!!!! Carson I love you so much

the box being described as “the beating heart of their childhood“ god the imagery

Jamie so sweetly making room for her and welcoming her into a home I am emotional again the tears have really been unlocked now I’m gonna be a mess the whole rest of this chapter (i say as if I haven’t been already)

the really sweet way Jamie gets her to open up and trust her with the things that have been on her mind

and Dani doing the same for her god this gentle honest space between them makes my heart feel so full I am just so happy that they’ve got each other

“I want you to stay.” please (also now I’m thinking about AE putting Stay on her Jamie playlist jesus christ I am being tortured)

they get... to wake up.... in bed together. i’m so close to crying again when will this stop

i kind of love there hasn’t really been any like... just no more kissing u know but we still get this insane intimacy between them in a way that’s not them shying away from the way they want each other but so carefuly and sweetly and honestly coming towards each other

awww them always waking up all tangled is so cuuute (also Dani feeling so safe and comfy with her that her subconscious is like lets latch on she is good she is home)

lmao Dani having to mediate between these two dweebs and their playfights is so good

Jamie having her lil family surrounding her aww

(also i just noticed the rating change oh god)

sfkjfhdg Jamie looking at her hips all dark eyes and wanting we’ve all been there girl

“you can look” BOLD DANI MY BELOVED

god these two........ the grabbing her silver chain god @ google how to breathe properly??????

“Then show me.” oh my god

fkgjhdfkj so much electricity they shorted out the power

“this is just as nice” when they’re just hugging please they are so soft

i love that there’s just like... gentle soft banter between them in these quiet moments so much

“Dani, give him more homework.”  ghrfjkhjgkjgh

god the heated cheek kiss

this ‘game of chicken’ god they’re just.... really in it huh this is so fun

hmmm Dani going through the suitcases and sort of being able to bring some of herself/her past into this new place is so nice

heh this lil family and their snowfights are so cute

:( she can’t bring herself to eat Judy’s food

Jamie bringing her flowers oh soft

ugh they’re just so softly melting into being together it’s so sweeeeeeeet

“You’re lovely.” and the way Jamie just sinks into her with Dani’s fingers in her hair pleeease I am dying this is so warm

aaaahhhh they’re dancing soft soft soft

“gray eyes fluttered closed, as though the weight of Dani’s touch was too much to bear” god i am..... aaaahhhh

“a gentle calm settling within her. It had seemed that for all her life she had waited for the quiet of this” y’all this is so beautiful and lovely and wonderful and all the good things

ah that kiss. kinda feels like their first real kiss where they just get to be god I am so happy “a profound sense of finally” oh oh oh that’s such a pretty concept

god I love how much they just want each other that second kiss and them just all over each other is perfect and having to try and reel that in and being able to because they know it’s not going anywhere please it’s so so good

god Dani vs Desert Hearts I love this callback and the entirely different circumstances of her watching it again

dsjfhdkjfh oh no Dani losing her mind at Jamie touching her knee god these two have got the biggest storm coming

dfkdjhkgdjh god them like.... trying to take things slow but still letting things happen while having to be aware of Mikey is so funny but I kinda love it and how indicative it all is of them being so grown up and able to approach their relationship in such a mature way. as much as I wish they’d had their teenage love story I do like that it’s unfolding this way now.

“it struck Dani then that she couldn’t remember ever laughing while doing this.” aww

Mikey’s “oh gross” hahahaha poor kid

god this is so funny

“ferret kid” jamie why are u like this sfkjhdfkjf

oh lordt it seems we have reached the unabashedly horny phase good show ol’ chaps

god they’re still so soft tho this is so fun to read

i looove how flustered they both make each other w just their presence. it’s just so !!!!!!

lmao Dani knowing exactly what to do to drive Jamie insane is fdkgfdkjgh perfect amazing show stopping more neck kisses more teasing more barely restrained desire i love it

“the reckless rush of being in each other’s arms” AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

lmaooooo Mikey Jamie is going to lock you outside if u keep doing this

the fact it can just fade back to comfortable companionship too is like. ugh i love them together

“Yeah. You can touch me whenever you want.” oh jesus

“No more interruptions, no more waiting, no more holding back.” it’s happening god it’s happening everyone stay calm (also the slow build to this point has been so fucking perfect y’all are writerly geniuses)

lmao Dani is like please can we just get naked why do u want to watch a movie I am literally right here

oh she is not waiting anymore THAT’S MY GIRL GO GET EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER WANTED I LOVE YOU

“What do you want?” god the tension

aaaaahhhhh just. them being so out of their minds with want but still all nervous and wanting to check in but still just. wanting this so much god this is *chef’s kiss*

lmao Dani already having the hair pulling thing figured out is so good. poor Jamie lol is she even going to survive this

god the fact they’re both still fully clothed n still getting this fucked up just making out n grinding on each other I love this for them

mum just came in to tell me dinner is ready I AM ALREADY EATIN GOOD

lmao fuck I am just... so thrilled for Dani finally getting to experience this get ur whole world rocked baby u deserve this

thumb in her mouth i-

“my idiot” pls that’s so soft

“You have me.” i know this is like. horny but it’s also so romantic sfgkjhdfkjg

ayoooo Jamie’s tattoo excuse me while I lose my mind a lil bit

my god Dani is so impatient to get her naked I love her for it so much “I just want to feel you”... ma’am

Jamie being all nervous is so cute aw

god having this lil moment where they just call each other beautiful n get all cute about it while they’re fully naked n grinding on each other.... perfection

god I can’t stop thinking about every other mention of Dani having sex w Eddie and it just being like adequate or like her not letting him touch her and now LOOK AT MY BABY GO SHE’S REALLY HAVIN THE TIME OF HER LIFE LITERALLY BEGGING TO BE TOUCHED LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO

I feel like I’m like cheering Jamie on rn sfjkghdfkj u guys need anything? some snacks? a condom?? ur doing great!!

Dani crying and thanking her like this is an acceptance speech love that for her

Jamie kissing all over her face aww

I can’t believe this whole chapter is them just getting to fall in love for real

“I want to taste you” i am blushing goddamn Jamie get it

oh my god the dream. she’s literally living out her dreams

“that same focused intensity that could make kingdoms fall” I love that Jamie is just as into getting Dani off as Dani is getting off lmao GOOD FOR THEM

Dani: desperately tryin to get Jamie off. Jamie: are u sure u want to tho??? miss ma’am let the girl touch u already she deserves it (but i do love that she’s always just like.... never wanting to make Dani do anything she doesn’t wholeheartedly want to)

“You sitting here on top of me like this is doing more for me than you can imagine.”  iconic jamie moment

Jamie literally just like.... ‘you can do whatever you want to figure this out’ is so sweet I love her capacity for just. giving herself over to Dani in every way (not just the horny ones) to let her forge her own path

“It was easy to understand now, the exhilaration of it, why people went crazy for it.” god I love this for her so much everything just falling into place

they’re so soft n comfy together and it’s all just so right and lovely

i love that once they’ve started they basically can’t stop honestly get it girls u deserve all the orgasms

“When did you know?” “Sixteen years.” oof my heart she’s known the whole time aaahhhh. all these lil memories god it really was all out of love I could cry. and Jamie admitting the scarf/scar thing whew she really carried around that moment on her face for the whole world to see (also lol at Dani being so fixated on it this whole time that’s so perfect)

heh they’re so cute with their lil teasing banter exchange

lol goddamn this so so spicy I am just dfklghfjkdjghkjdf (that is to say well fucking done I can’t even speak rn)

Jamie just being like you could literally just look at me and I am turned on I... love this whole situation for her so much

god they’re really just going all in Dani is getting like the.... lesbian sex speed run amen

oh god not Karen on the phone just hang up Dani do it do it

god she is so evil

omg she told her abt Jamie go off Dani I am v v proud of u right now

and she hung up on her godbless babe i LOVE your audacity

heh Jamie so transfixed by Dani’s lil purple sweater and skirt I love her

Dani u are such a tease sfkgjdfkg good 4 u tbh

awwww she got Dani’s desk for her oh my god that’s so lovely

Dani n Jamie being entirely not subtle over dinner w their lingering glances and Carson just laughing at them fkjghdkfjgh i love it. he’s so happy for them even w his teasing aw

aaahhh i just love Jamie giving her this space and this room in the house and Dani feeling so right in it

oooh an almost “I love you” god they’re just fuckin u-haulin in love perfection huh

and now we’re back to horny hours love this for them. gotta bless that desk somehow huh!?

i love the mentions of all this soft stuff about belonging when they’re about to rail each other it really rounds it out emotionally

“Get on your knees.” OH MY GOD THE JAMIE ON HER KNEES REDEMPTION MOMENT IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING

HELL YEAH IT IS this is truly what we all deserve

oh my god literally ripping her clothes off her fuck i love how desperate they are for each other and just how into this they both are always

dfgkjdfh jesus Dani are u ever going to be able to get work done at this desk again after Jamie does.... all of this to u on it

“Good girl.” the single most powerful sentence in the lesbian language

jesus christ this is still so incredibly steamy sdflkhskhg it never ends. and them like.... experiementing a bit w some different um. approaches? lol good 4 them good 4 them (and us)

my god them instantly getting all soft after about making each other happy please they’re so dang cute

ok love that we are also getting Dani on her knees it’s equality.gif

this little “I like you” “I like you too” confession right now is... so fucking soft and like... after everything they’ve gone through they still have the power to kinda knock each other off their feet w lil things like this huh?? sappy lil shits

oh no Judy I am scared

holy shit Dani “Didn't think you'd love me anymore” owwww my heart

god Judy is such a good mama I love her so much. reassuring her she’s still a part of the family my god I am so emo. she loves her so much

aw I love this lil shared bathroom scene after so many awkward moments w Dani and Eddie in their bathroom and so many mentions of her fogged reflection. things are finally clear and it’s wonderful!!

lol Jamie well if u didn’t want Dani to get all horny u shouldn’t have worn suspenders!!!!! it’s simple math!

god Dani has changed so much this chapter which only takes place over a couple of weeks right?!?!? after so much anxiety and being so unsure of herself this is so fucking beautiful to see

stop the car thing oh my godddd. she doesn’t even care about having her own cause she’s so happy w the person she’s sharing with I’m so overwhelmingly happy

“You’re perfect.” please I will cry this chapter was so perfect (also so are the memes I cackled so much)

[hearts-hunger]

ciryc ca’tra (cold night sky): chapter five || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of the attack, you and Din try and mend each other before you try to mend your broken ship.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: spiders, brief panic attack/ptsd

A/N: This chapter? God-tier. Din is the best husband in the whole galaxy bar none. He’s attentive, he’s soft, he loves to make you laugh. Chock-full of fluff and hurt/comfort, just the way I like it. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it too! ♡

You needed to be near to your husband.

Maybe it was the set of his shoulders as he stood out in the snow, looking towards the place where the X-Wings had gone; maybe it was the way you still felt his hand in yours, squeezing tight like it was the last way he’d ever tell you he loved you. You stepped carefully over the broken glass and crushed metal to get through the cockpit doors, one hand carrying your baby, the other carrying your blaster. The little silver thing shook in your hand as you held it in front of you, and you desperately hoped you wouldn’t need to fire it.

You came down the ladder and had to stifle a sob at the sight that met you.

Gruesome, disfigured spider bodies tangled with cords and wires on the floor; long, stringy webs shone on every surface from floor to ceiling. The floor was slick with ice and slime and webbing; some limbs still twitched where they lay, their faint clicking making you shudder with revulsion. You nursed a low whine of disgust and fear at the hateful things as you stepped over them, webs catching in your hair, your skin crawling with the thought of them. Your shoulders tensed with every sound, every faint sign of fading life from the things that had infested your home.

You wanted to take a gasping breath of fresh air when you stepped through the web-covered break in the siding, but the wretched spiders were everywhere, the acrid smell of the green fluid mixing with the exhaust from the Crest’s smoking thrusters. The body of the giant one was collapsed over the top of the Crest, its legs seeming to swallow the ship like it wanted to pull it deep into the ice with it as it decayed. 

You heard something scuttle across the rubble and swung your blaster around to aim at it, but before you even spotted it, it was reduced to a heap of ash by a shot from behind you.

You stood looking at it for too long, watching the way the smoke curled up towards the cavern ceiling; you jumped and let out a choked sob when you felt Din’s hand on your shoulder.

“Just me,” he said, like he was afraid to spook you. He put a hand on your wrist and eased the blaster down; he gently pried it from your fingers and holstered it on his own belt. 

“Easy, cyar’ika,” he said softly, pulling you towards him. You gave a pathetic whimper and leaned into him, felt his hand move to your back to hold you securely against him. Your chin quivered with sickness and emotion, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be sick or burst into tears.

Your baby gave a quiet coo, and your body made the decision for you as you finally started to cry. You leaned completely against your husband as sobs wracked your body, every bit of fear and hurt and tension shredding through you until you were so overwhelmed by it you couldn’t catch your breath. Din gently eased the baby from your arms and urged you to try and take a breath.

“Ok, cyare,” he soothed, deep worry coloring his voice. “Breathe for me, love. Try and take a deep breath.”

You sucked in a greedy, hitching breath, pressing your hands to your face, trying to tether yourself to something - you felt your whole body had gone numb, and you couldn’t breathe - 

Din took one of your hands in his and held tightly, like he had in the cockpit, and suddenly your breath caught on a groaning sob like the sound of purest grief. Gasping moans tumbled from you, and it seemed like you’d never stop. You wanted this to be over. You wanted to be home. You didn’t want your home to be a pile of rubble underneath a giant, lifeless monster.

“Din, I can’t - ” you sobbed, “I don’t want - I can’t - ”

“I know,” he said, and the grief in his voice matched yours even if he couldn’t give himself over to it like you were. “I know, cyare. It’s ok. Just breathe for me.”

He stood patiently with you, letting you hold onto him, murmuring words of comfort in Basic and Mando’a until you’d finally worn yourself out with crying. You scrubbed at your hot, tear-streaked face, your shoulders hitching with your stuttering breaths, dizzy and tired and more run-down than you’d ever been in your life.

“That’s it,” Din said gently. “Deep breaths.” He grunted a little as you hugged him tightly, trying to be as close to him as you could.

He ran a soothing hand up and down your back. “You’re ok, cyar’ika. I’ve got you.”

“Sorry,” you said miserably, his chestplate cool against your burning cheeks. You’d wasted valuable time breaking to bits like that, out here where you were most vulnerable to attack. You couldn’t imagine keeping a hold of yourself like Din was, and wished you could be stronger.

“No, cyare,” he said, kind and yet firm. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You... we’ve suffered a great deal of fear and loss. You don’t have to apologize for feeling that.”

He tucked you protectively against him, one arm wrapped around you and the other holding your son. He gave a heavy sigh and rested his helm against your head.

“Mandalorians have a word - mirjahaal,” he said. “It means peace, or healing of the spirit. You say it to people who’ve suffered a loss or gone through something traumatic.”

“Mirjahaal,” you repeated. You had always loved the way Mandalorian words sounded, and held on to the way this word sounded strong and gentle at the same time.

Din hummed in agreement. “You can’t heal unless you feel the wound, cyar’ika,” he said gently. “And there’s no shame in being wounded.”

You let your husband hold you and offered your hand to your baby; he took your pinkie in a gentle grasp and cooed at you. There, with your little family held close in the protective circle of Din’s arms, you felt a little less of the terrible weight that had settled on your heart.

“Mirjahaal,” you said again, softly. You didn’t know how, but you felt things must get better; you would heal, and so would your family. You would be safe and have an abundance of peace. You knew you would.

You looked up at Din’s visor. “I love you.”

He gently touched his helmet to your head. “I love you too.” His grip tightened on your waist, and you lightly kissed the bottom of his helmet.

“We’re all safe, cyare,” he said, and you knew it was to remind himself as well as you. “We’ll find a way out of this, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly; the baby gave a quiet, happy babble.

Din’s laugh was wobbly through his vocoder. “I love you too,” he said, cradling his son closer to his chest. “You were very brave with mama, weren’t you, verd’ika?”

You smiled at the nickname, “little soldier” in Mando’a. His grip on your finger was strong, and you felt a wash of gratitude that he hadn’t been hurt. You didn’t know what you would have done if either he or Din had been injured, and felt profound relief that they were both safe.

“Come on,” you said, pulling away from Din just enough to take his hand in yours. “Let’s try and fix our home.”

Din let you keep your hold on him as you ducked back inside the Crest; you were thankful for his strength and steadiness as you took in the state of the ship with a clearer mind. It looked more hopeless than it ever had, a mere shadow of the safe, familiar fortress it had always been for your little family. 

“Haar’chak,” Din swore quietly. “This is... the worst I’ve ever seen her.”

You gave his hand a comforting squeeze. 

“We’ll fix her, Din,” you said, trying for confidence. You slipped your hand from his to reach down and pick up a box, saw a severed spider leg leaning against it, and bit your tongue to keep from yelling every curse word you’d ever learned from your husband.

You crossed your arms over your chest lest you be tempted to tidy anything else before the spiders were gone.

“I know it looks bad,” you said. “But we can handle it. We’ve...” You trailed off, your gaze snagging on the webs sticking from the ceiling to Din’s armor, and wondered fleetingly how covered you must be in the sticky residue.

He cocked his head at you. “What?”

“You’re just... covered in webs,” you said. He looked up and turned his head slightly, making the threads billow with his movement.

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ll have to scrub my beskar for a week to get everything off of it.” He gestured to you. “At least I have armor - you’re covered in it too.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Yes, I know I don’t have armor on, dearest. Thank you.”

His huff of a laugh was cut short, and you could tell by the sudden stiffness of his posture that something was wrong.

“What?” you asked, trying to tamp down the panic rising in your chest.

He held out a hand, like he might do to steady a skittish Fathier that could buck at any moment.

“Don’t freak out,” he said in a purposefully calm voice. Your baby was watching you with wide eyes, cooing with interest; all of a sudden you knew what it was, and your shoulders tensed with utter revulsion.

“Oh, kriff - get it off, Din, get it off, get it off,” you pleaded, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt a little scurrying movement on your shoulder and heard a tiny chitter, and you really and truly whined at the thought of the horrible thing on you.

 You felt Din’s hand swipe your shoulder, then heard a single blaster shot. You jumped and opened your eyes to see a scorch mark on the floor as Din holstered his blaster at his hip.

“It was that big?” you asked in dismay. You’d assumed he would just bat it away and step on it, but if it had been big enough to shoot at - 

“No,” he said. “But I didn’t want any more spider guts on my boots.”

You ran to him and put your arms around his waist, feeling your skin crawl. 

“It’s gone, cyare,” he said, though you knew he didn’t mind the hug. 

You shuddered. “I don’t care. I’m staying right here with you, forever.”

He chuckled. “Okay.” 

Your baby gave you a happy coo, delighted to see you so close to him as he leaned contentedly against his father’s chest, and you gave him a little smile.

“I love you, my little darling,” you said quietly, just for him to hear. He babbled and brushed his claws through your hair with intentional gentleness.

“Yes, nice pets,” Din said, like he had when teaching the baby to pet the Tusken Massiffs. “Be gentle with mama’s hair.”

You couldn’t help a laugh, but were reminded of the thing that had just been in your hair a second ago.

“See if there are any more on me,” you said, dreading the possibility.

Din leaned forward a little to check your back. “No, you’re fine.” He pulled a few strings of webs from your hair. “Have you ever considered shaving your head?”

You looked up at him. “It’s that bad?”

He considered the lock of your hair tangled in his fingers. “It’s... going to take a lot of dedicated brushing, I think.” He looked back down at you. “Not that I would know. Perks of an extremely religious upbringing.”

You gave him a wry smile and found yourself very relieved and comforted that your husband was joking with you.

“Thank you for slaying the beast,” you said. “All of them.”

“My pleasure, cyar’ika.”

He looked around at the interior of the ship, a low sigh coming through his modulator. “The only way I can think to get us out of here is to just fix the cockpit. There’s no way I can make enough of a repair of the hull to make it usable.”

You thought of the damage the cockpit had sustained and felt its repair alone was an ambitious goal; with the state of the Crest and your limited knowledge of mechanics, you agreed with his assessment that the majority of the ship would be nothing more than scrap metal until you could get it to a shop.

“We’ll get it fixed, Din,” you said. “Surely there’s someone on Trask who can help.”

He nodded. “I hope so. I’d really like to take it to Peli, but we can’t make it to Tatooine before we do some patchwork.”

You thought fondly of the short, curly-haired mechanic who’d become as good a friend to you and Din as any you’d found on your travels through the galaxy. If she and her droids were here, Din would have the Crest as good as new in short order, and your baby would have the company of one of the many people he’d charmed within the first few moments of meeting them.

“Though I should thank her for getting me into this mess,” Din said, an edge of uncharacteristic surliness to his voice. You knew he was just tired and overwhelmed, and tried to be kind when you responded.

“It’s not Peli’s fault that we’re here, my love,” you said gently, pulling a few threads of webbing from his pauldron. “She wanted to help a friend, and really, we owed her for helping us find someone to take us to the other Mandalorians.”

He gave a resigned huff. “Somebody to take us to the Mandalorians won’t do us much good if we don’t get off this kriffing planet.”

“Well, good thing we are getting off this planet,” you said. You looked up at him without judgement, but you wanted him to know you weren’t going to indulge his grumbling.

He sighed, and you saw how his shoulders slumped a little.

“You’re right,” he said, weary. “Sorry. I’m just...”

You would have kissed his helmet, but it was so covered in webs that you settled for tapping it gently where you knew his mouth was.

“I know,” you assured him gently. “And you don’t have to be all sunshine and starbursts for me, you know that. But if you start doing down the path of doom and gloom, we both know I won’t be far behind.”

He breathed a laugh. “Can’t have that, can we?” he asked. Then, very tenderly, “Thank you for keeping my head on straight, ner kar’ta. I couldn’t do this without you.”

You beamed at that; he only ever called you ‘my heart’ when he was very pleased and proud of you, and you were happy that what little help you could offer in the grand scheme of things had been that important to him.

“You won’t ever have to,” you reminded him. “I mean, I’ve stuck with you through a giant spider attack. There’s really not much worse you could throw at me.”

He gave a wry hum of agreement. “No, I guess not.” He looked around at the tangled spider bodies that had begun to close in on themselves, and you knew him well enough to know he was grimacing under the helm.

“They are pretty awful, aren’t they?” he asked. “I’ve dealt with some questionable creatures before, but I think these take the uj'alayi.”

Just the mention of the dense, sweet Mandalorian cake was enough to make you start daydreaming about it. “I could go for some uj'alayi right now,” you said dreamily.

He chuckled. “When we get the Crest back on her feet, I’ll make you some,” he promised. “But for now, I guess we can eat our fill of roasted spider.”

He waggled his fingers towards you in imitation of the creepy things, and you batted his hand away with a laugh.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, and he laughed too. “I’d rather share the frog eggs with the baby if it came down to it.”

Din tried to muffle a laugh but it ended up just sounding kind of strangled, and not a second later did you hear the quiet croak of the frog lady from behind you. You looked wide-eyed at Din, struck with sudden embarrassment like a youngling talking about someone behind their back on the playground, and he merely cocked his head at you. You knew he was trying not to laugh under his helmet, and you gave him a petulant shove against his chestplate.

“Good thing we have some rations left, right, cyare?” he said, intending to be overheard.

You tried for a withering look but couldn’t quite manage it; his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter and you couldn't help a grudging smile at how his mood had improved.

“I’m so getting you back for that,” you said in a low voice.

You knew he was smiling at you; you could always tell with Din.

“I’ll be on my guard, cyar’ika,” he said amusedly, assuring you he was looking forward to whatever you’d cook up to get back at him with. You felt a brief, hesitant desire for your husband, something you were sure would have burned much brighter if your circumstances had not been so dire. You hoped that once you got out of this mess, you could take a breather of sorts - maybe drop the baby off with Omera and go back to Naboo for a long weekend in the sun. 

The thought of your home planet’s warmth only made you feel the cold of this planet more sharply, and you allowed yourself a little sigh as you were brought back to the reality of your situation.

“Alright,” Din said to both you and the frog lady, and you knew he’d felt the end of your short reprieve as well. “I’m gonna repair the cockpit enough for us to limp to Trask. There’s nothing I can do about the main hull’s integrity, so we’re gonna have to get cozy in the cockpit. It’s the only thing I can pressurize.”

You’d never minded being in the cockpit before, but you’d also always had the option of roaming the ship. You idly wondered how long it would take to get to Trask, considering lightspeed was out of the question, and began to mentally prepare yourself for a lengthy trip with a toddler who wasn’t used to being so cooped up.

“If you need to use the privy, do it now,” Din suggested. “It’s gonna be a long ride.”

He handed the baby over to you, and your son gave only a slight coo of protest before he snuggled into your arms. You wished you had somewhere to take him to let him run around for a bit before you settled in the cockpit, but there wasn’t a single place in or around the ship that wasn’t in smoking ruin or littered with spiders.

Come to think of it, there really wasn’t any place for you to go. You looked up at Din.

“Can we stay with you while you work?” you asked.

He shrugged. “If you want to. It won’t be very entertaining.”

You gave a tired wave of your hand. “Fine by me.” Dozing in the passenger seat while Din worked on the repairs seemed luxurious compared to the events of the past few days.

You turned to the frog lady, intending to ask if she’d like to come up with you, but she had set herself to the task of gathering the smaller spider bodies and tossing them outside. You cringed as a limb broke off one when she picked it up, but as much as you had all disliked them when they were alive, they didn’t seem to faze her now that they were dead.

Din stepped forward as she put her weight into dragging a larger one towards the split in the hull, his body language tight with almost comical unease.

“You don’t have to - ” he started, but she gave a dismissive croak and muscled the spider across the floor. Both you and Din reacted with wincing aversion, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Ok then,” your husband said quickly, clearly content to let her continue if she wished and unwilling to continue watching her do it. He steered you towards the ladder. “We’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything.”

Like he always did when you went up the ladder with the baby in hand, Din let you go first and hovered protectively to catch you if you slipped. You never had, but you didn’t mind indulging that particular habit for the sake of his nerves. You actually appreciated it then, with webs and slime covering each rung - Din’s hand on your thigh was steadying as you fought to overcome your reluctance to keep a firm grip on the sticky ladder.

The cockpit was covered in webs too, and Din kindly swept them from your seat before he started pulling them from the instrument panel. You felt a little guilty as you sank into your chair, watching him set to work - you were achy with exhaustion, and you knew that for all his armor, he’d gotten battered and bruised in the fight with the spiders and was running on only a few hours of broken sleep. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you offered. You didn't know the first thing about mechanics, but maybe there was something you could do for him.

His chuckle was affectionate. “No, cyare, that’s ok,” he said gently. “You rest.”

Before he hunkered down to work on the dash, he unscrewed the little silver handle from the gear shift and dropped it into your son’s outstretched hand.

“Be good and play quietly,” Din said to the baby. “Let mama rest.”

The baby cooed in agreement, settling in your lap and turning the ball over in his hands. Din gave your knee a slightly distracted but affectionate pat as he knelt in front of the instrument panel, fishing through the toolbox to find what he needed.

You leaned your elbow on the dash and watched for a few moments; there was something soothing about the way Din was so methodical in caring for his ship. You’d sat with him during repairs or routine maintenance countless times while you were courting; he’d let you chatter away about anything and everything while he worked, occasionally asking a thoughtful question or laughing at a funny memory you recounted. You’d fallen in love with him while he worked on the Crest, and you rested in that love now as he worked diligently to keep you and your baby safe. 

“I’m gonna fall asleep,” you mumbled, resting your cheek against your propped-up arm. Your exhaustion was finally catching up to you now that the adrenaline had faded, and your eyes fluttered shut as your head nodded a little.

You heard him turn towards you. “You don’t look that comfortable, cyar’ika.”

You gave a light shug, re-settling your arm around the baby. “Take me somewhere with a huge, Varactyl feather bed when you get the ship fixed.”

He chuckled. “Okay,” he agreed. “Do you want me to take the baby from you?”

“Only...” You yawned. “Only if he looks like he’s going to fall off my lap.”

You felt him run his knuckles lightly over your shin. “Goodnight, cyare.”

You nodded, feeling yourself fade fast, knowing you were safe and taken care of. “‘Night. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said. You heard the soft whir of one of his tools start up again, and moments later, you drifted off into a dearly needed sleep.

Read chapter six!

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[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Heat Seekers I

Genre: Dark Cyberpunk AU Pairing: Chanyeol x f.reader Words: 5k Fic Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. I’m serious people. If any of the chapter warnings are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please do not read this. Do so at your own discretion. Lots of angst and hurt, eventual smut. Chapter Warnings are below the cut. Author’s Note: There are some specific things in this fic that I’ve personally experienced, and some that I have not. Please understand my intention with this fic is a way of healing not just for myself but hopefully for others who unfortunately have experience with these types of situations. I did a lot of debating about whether or not I should even post this fic, and have spoken to a few individuals about it. Ultimately, with the intent of healing and moving past such trauma, it’s been decided OK to post. Please take my warnings seriously.

Chapter Warnings: Metaphoric descriptions of statutory rape. Assault, sexual assault. Gaslighting. Attempted murder. Brief mentions of substance abuse and prostitution. Minor character death.

You always believed there was no such thing as Heaven, but surely there was Hell. Several iterations of the grotesque and horrific afterlife; because humanity is a plague and that is what each of us deserved.

Perhaps in your younger days, you didn’t know it… no, even then you knew. Deep down inside you remember nothing of happiness or blessing. No memories of a person’s presence, actions, or words doing anything considerably good for anyone else. Certainly not without a motive. Certainly not out of empathy.

Before you could walk, throwing yourself into the repetitive ease of programmed machines and technology brought you peace. Technology is predictable and massively accessible to anyone. Technology is your comfort.

Electricity became nearly free and unlimited after the revolution that ended the War on Power in 2045. So long as the sun rose every day, there was never a shortage, and the resulting surge of technological advancements that boomed, as a result, have made most fairly new tech obsolete.

Sustainable, economic, and eco-friendly power became the way of the world. Wind energy became the norm. Buildings were now made from fiberglass solar panels, stronger, taller, and widely available, so every surface collected energy from the sun. Window glass collected heat to use in the winter, eliminating the need for natural gas heat altogether. More room for technology to grow. More surface area on the ground for parks and forests. Resorts built above an ocean’s surface harnessed the energy of the currents moving below their supports. Anything that wasn’t hovering in midair could collect energy from earthquakes and natural disasters alike, as long as humankind was lucky enough to have built something that could capture the energy and withstand the storm. The earth was well on its way to healing by the time you were born in 2051, and although humankind flourished along with it, the world was still a dangerous place. Corporations rose even higher and politics declined, dissolving into a place wrought with criminal activity and fear. Yes, humans were healthier, stronger, lived longer if they were lucky. But was that really such a good thing? Your parent would throw anything she didn’t find valuable at you whenever you locked her out of the apartment, and she was too weak to force her way inside. You were smart enough to know you would be no match in the likely event someone tried to break in, so you had to defend yourself. You wear wary of the men she brought inside, always idly wondering if any of them were your father, but so few of them ever returned.

You don’t remember ever knowing you even had a father before that, unknowing until she told you about sex and what makes a human child when you were four. Not that you’d asked and not that she would care to speak to you when she was anything other than suffocatingly drunk.

In a room that was barely such, the feeble plywood walls held together as if by magic and the curtain strung up as your door sagged so low it only served to be a nuisance to your agenda. Outdated machines and technology stacked high around the walls, most were scrap parts for your projects.

You dedicated every day to sitting in the same spot, surrounded by computers and machines, and learning what makes them function. The finite possibilities, yet the scope of their differences, is something that brought you peace and kept the gears in your own head turning. Sometimes, you would pretend and daydream as if you were an android yourself. You were not lucky enough to be born as one with artificial intelligence.

You attended virtual school whenever you felt like it, or at least you knew the basics. Your parent didn’t care. She nearly pretended like you didn’t exist, which suited you just fine. From the time you were five, she began leaving you alone at home. You knew how to pull the cracked plastic stool over to the counter and get yourself some goldfish crackers or something else simple. You weren’t allowed to use the stove even though you’d repaired it twice, but the microwave was fine.

You knew how to bathe and how to use the restroom and clean up after yourself because you had to. There was nobody else for a long time. Days came and went when you weren’t sure if she would ever come back, only for her to come banging on the squeaky front door or crashing through it slurring her words and waking you from a fitful sleep to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks in the middle of the night. The notion of your tears on her behalf was always something unpredictable and confusing to you. Why would you cry over such insignificance, you sometimes wondered to yourself.

If she stopped coming back one day you would figure it out. The nice man across the street from your apartment building ran a tiny tech store and he always had a smile for you and something that needed fixing. Most days he would ask you math problems as something he called a “lightning round” of questions for an extra quarter for every right answer. Surely the three dollars he gave you for what your fixed every time was enough to put what little food you needed in your stomach.

By the time you were eight, the habits you and your cohabitant fell into became routine. You became accustomed to sleeping during the day while she was out, setting your school live feed on record so you could watch it later. At night, while trying to drown out the sounds of her screaming or sex or shattering bottles, you would work. In the world you knew, the industry wasn’t as slow as it used to be. Too fast-paced for most new phone models to make it past their six-month mark before it was time to stop manufacturing and making capital, moving onto the next one. From what you understood, a new model of home security cameras could go on the market one day and be in the clearance pile before you got your next paycheck. Security tech became your playground after a few years, and you didn’t have enough money to buy anything. It never bothered you that you were always a step behind the latest tech because you had to wait a week until the latest model began showing up in dumpsters. It was never your intention to be faster than that. By the age of ten, you knew your priority was survival and in order to do that, you had to protect yourself with whatever means necessary. You had six different checkpoints in security on your living space not long after you became familiar with it. An additional four security cameras had been installed by your own two small hands around your building as well, at the entrance, elevator, your floor’s hall, and in front of your flimsy front door. All secretly controlled by you, without the knowledge of the outdated model of AI that ran your front desk, passively named Al- born of the building owner’s lack of creativity or care. Probably both.

You spent your days alone, in the tiny, insufferable hole in the wall place called your ‘home’. Where, as the years propelled to 2063 on your twelfth year, you chose to ignore most of the other inhabitants of this world. On a worn-out and broken faux leather armchair, perpetually stuck in the reclining position. Where you sat to work and where you slept and where you held your breath at the groaning sound omitted from its cushions every time you moved. You kept fixing it whenever it would break, dumping you from the side of it with a ‘plunk’ as the bars jumped off their tracks. You scowled every time they snapped the tracks completely. You worked to hone your skills in the world of technology, tinkering and learning every detail of every machine you could get your hands on from the dumpster behind your building. Sometimes if you were lucky, the building owner would forget to pay the trash removal services and it would pile up for weeks. Heaps of smelly trash were a small price to pay if it meant you could hit the jackpot and take several trips up and down the rickety old elevator with your arms full of tech.

Those were your happiest memories. Your body felt like jelly by the time you finished sorting through it all and bringing it up to your stash, carefully removing casings of microcomputers or game cartridges to get to the gold inside.

Everything was fine and although you couldn’t say you were content with your life- you didn’t hate it. You loved the freedom to be left alone and the peace of your tinkering tech. Perhaps a little impatient to grow up, but with every passing year, you celebrated quietly to yourself during the days you had been told your birth date fell. Somewhere between these seven days, you pulled up the same app on every smartphone you had in your possession and ran quickly around your makeshift room trying to blow out twenty digital candles in one big breath- careful not to trip over small piles of tech as you went.

It became a blur after you turned twelve. Somewhere along the timeline not long after that, a man started showing up to the apartment and threw off the balance you had so carefully maintained. You never knew his name, but you remember his face, his cologne, and his voice, and the way his eyes sparkled with something that sank in the pit of your stomach the first time you laid eyes on him. Most of all, even now, you remember him in your restless nightmares and the raw feeling of vindictive rage that in your weakest moments, reminds you that you’re alive, if only by the boiling heat of your blood rushing through your ears. In those moments, when your vision goes fuzzy with the desire to see him suffer and rot miserably in the deepest pits of hell, preferably bleeding and screaming.

You remember him from a time past, standing in the kitchen with your parent, one of her arms curled around his thick neck and the other raised in the air, his fingers closed around her slim wrist. The suit he wore looked expensive, and their bodies were slowly bending over the kitchen table in a strange dance, waiting for her back to snap and flatten against the wooden surface. Their eyes flashed to yours for less than a heartbeat as you walked to the refrigerator, laughing at something that lulled in the silence.

The next time you saw him he had fed your cohabitant something so toxic she passed out on the floor beside the couch. Then he spoke to you. In his deep baritone, he sounded like he smoked too many cigarettes too often. Or drank a bottle of razor blades.

“Pretty little thing ain’t ye?” he asked, dipping his head through the curtain that thinly veiled your world from outside eyes.

You ignored him, choosing to pretend as if the headphones situated on your head were actually producing audio. So he hit you.

Then he hit you again, screaming at you for ignoring him and calling you a bitch, whatever that meant. You heard it slung at your parent enough to know it was derogatory.

You didn’t even scream, you remember. Very clearly you sat shocked, but tears spilled down your cheeks from the pain alone. The heat you felt on your cheek, swelling and rough as if you’d fallen off a motorized bike and gotten road rash on your face.

Your fingers rose and you can recall them vividly, shaking as they reached to touch at your cheek and the hiss of pain as you recoiled from yourself.

Then, you try not to visualize it, but it won’t go away. You remember the feeling of his hand grabbing yours as it froze in midair, yanking you from the protection and warm affection of your old faux leather chair. It growled as he ripped you from its grasp in protest, pulling you so hard the force nearly dislocated your shoulder while he simply tossed you on the floor.

You remember the feeling of his fingers pulling at your clothes and then pain. Extreme pain, so brutal and fast it took your breath away. Your face throbbed as his palm fit perfectly across your whole skull, pushing your head onto the rough wood planks below.

You screamed, but you don’t remember if any sound came out, or if it was just that nobody cared that you did so. You screamed and cried, trying to crawl away as he grabbed at you. There was a ‘whoosh’ feeling as the air was ripped from your lungs when something burning sunk, forcing itself a home of darkness that never should have been between your soul and your corporeal form.

And then nothing.

You remember waking up to the sharp scent of blood, confirming it when you saw it on the floor around you, glistening and wet in the faint glow of computers. You remember the pain that shot between your legs as you tried to sit up properly, groaning as fresh tears worked down your cheeks. The cry that left you rippled pain across your face, too, and you remember crawling yourself over to your beloved chair and leaning against the comfort of its worn fabric as you reached for any of the smartphones you had.

For the first time ever, the brightness of a screen made you flinch back in the darkness. Persevering, you opened the camera and turned it to selfie mode, inspecting your face in the digital reflection. Your right cheek was fat and red, and two purple circles were clearly left in the wake of where his gaudy rings hit your skin. The stain on your skin crept up below your eye.

You made yourself calm down enough to quell the sobs wracking your chest to softer whimpers and tears to help the pain in your cheek stop.

It happened again some unknown weeks later. Your parent so stoned and drunk she passed out blissfully somewhere else and he came to you again. Your begging did you no good, and you were no match for his strength. Why hadn’t you run the moment you could stand on your legs again after the first assault? Why hadn’t you hauled every piece of your tech and saved dime from your bank account or gone to the nice old man across the street for help? Deep down, you knew. You were confident enough to know he would find you and smart enough to know he would kill you when he did.

The second time, you wished you had a gun or a knife. Not just cameras to catch him in the act. Or something that would make him stop and leave you alone. It was just as bad as the first, except this time you didn’t pass out. You did your best to stay still, compliance your only weapon in hoping he goes away that much sooner if you let it be over with. It still hurt just as bad, and he still left you in a puddle of white and red wetness on the floor. The scent of blood made you dizzy.

For the first time in your life, you begged. You begged the adult that raised you and fed you until you could do it yourself. For just once you desperately wished to talk to her and confirm. To make her do something to save you. You were terrified you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, and if this were the last thing she would ever do for you, if it were the last time you would ever see her, you would be grateful if she would just do something to save her daughter.

Hopelessness and an unending free-fall of terror are what you received. You were stronger than she was, and nearly her height by now, with a young healthy body not wrought with substance abuse. You forced her to sit still and keep her eyes open. To keep watching the video even though you couldn’t watch it yourself, barely able to weather the sounds coming from the captured footage.

When it was over, you hadn’t realized you were crying. Your vision blurred when you opened your eyes, with wet cheeks that felt the rush of air as you maneuvered in front of her and gingerly knelt on the floor to beg at her knees. You gathered her hands in her lap, struggling to hold them as you repeated your pleas.

She ignored them, literally shaking and gasping for breath and telling you it wasn’t real. Telling you it never happened. When you forced it upon her and threatened to go to the police with it she pulled your hair and screamed at you. Screamed that you were an idiot and that he would kill you both because didn’t you know who he was? Didn’t you know the power that man held over so many? No, you didn’t.

And it suddenly dawned on you, she was just as scared. She was scared and terrified and unable to grasp any semblance of control over what that man did anymore. She was a fool to think she ever did, and you were a fool to have a sliver of faith in her. So you left to clear your head, much to her cries not to. Born out of anxiety, fearful you would go to the police.

You walked farther than you thought you could as you attempted to regain the strength in your legs. Slowly, and by the time you returned the sun had fully set, but an orange glow caught your attention from the rooftop, one floor above yours. Wisps of smoke, too. Odd, nobody ever went up there.

A single stray cord and a plastic piece of backing laid on the floor between the elevator and your door, and your heart sunk back down all fourteen floors. You were out of breath and the pain between your legs was searing by the time you shoved your way through the metal door to the roof.

Sitting on the ledge was a gaunt, familiar face. She was smoking a cigarette, watching the flames and smoke from three rust-stained barrels. Inside of them was most of your tech. Your cameras, a few handfuls of smartphones, seven computers, gaming consoles, tablets.

You barely remember what happened after that, but you know it was a lot of screaming and a burn when you attempted to kick one of them and stomp out the flames. That day was the catalyst that made you take action, planning to escape from hell. If there was no chance to be saved by someone else, you would have to do it yourself.

Racing the clock on a high of anxiety, you only prayed that for three days he wouldn’t show up. You only needed three days.

On the afternoon of the second day, you hadn’t realized you were alone in the small apartment of your old and outdated building. You were too busy working like lightning to beat an imaginary deadline on your heels. You hadn’t noticed she had left until you came out shortly to use the restroom and find some crackers.

There he was at the kitchen table, the cheap metal legs of the chair bowing under his mass. You froze, watching him in shock and briefly you let your eyes wander around the living room to realize she wasn’t there. His voice was low as he told you she passed out in the elevator hours ago.

The chair made a horrible scuffing sound as he stood up, and you flinched. It didn’t matter once he took your wrist in his grip, and he made you suffer once more.

Something unhinged him this time, and even through the pain and nausea and the attempt to make yourself faint just to not have to live through it, you felt it. Felt the psychotic shift in his brain as he laughed at your pain.

It broke something inside of you. Escape. Do not let him do this to you. Definitely do not give up and let it happen. Retaliate. Fight. Get away. Run. Live.

You barely recall how you came to the conclusion, or how you stomached the grotesque way, when he leaned over your back, you turned your head. How you took the easiest thing to reach- his right ear lobe- between your teeth, and mangled him for all you were worth.

The gratification was immediate as he sprang from you, shoving you forward and holding his head. You remember no pain in that moment, and smiling with adrenaline, breathless but with lungs full of oxygen at the same time. You bolted before he could come back to his senses, grabbing your bag from your chair, thankfully nearly complete, and ran out, fixing your clothing along the way.

He tried to get up fast enough to stop you, lunging for you with one hand as you made it into the hallway, but whatever adrenaline you were on was potent, and your senses were razor sharp. You ducked his hand, hearing him barrel into the wall with his momentum as you made for the elevator.

You watched in slow motion the hopeless rage morph onto his stubbled face, knowing he wouldn’t catch you in time. Letting go of his ear, you saw it maimed, the bottom half missing, an obvious mouth-shaped crest bleeding heavily onto the floor as he reached instead to procure a gun from his jacket.

Although your heart leaped at the sight of it as the metal door creaked open behind you, his hands were messy, and the gun slipped from his bloody grip.

Turning to get on, you hesitated for just a second when you saw her there, passed out in the corner of the elevator. You shoved the button for the lobby as hard as you could, planning to rip the wires from the panel behind Al’s desk the moment it reached the bottom. It would give you enough time to get away as he descended the stairs.

You remember watching her sleep, but an eerie sense of foreboding grew in the intimate space the lower the elevator went, despite the beauty of golden hour cityscape from the window that served as the back wall of the capsule.

It took a few moments for you to realize the sun looked odd against her skin. Her hair didn’t catch the rays, nor did her lips hold the same color or fullness of your own, a feature you had in common. She looked sick.

An unfamiliar emotion welled in you. Some concoction of fear, sadness, and a heavy sense of solitude congealed in your chest and your throat as you crouched beside her quietly, afraid to make a sound.

Hesitantly, you touched her shoulder, immediately recoiling at the unnatural stone of her form, refusing to be pliant under the gentle press of your fingers. Swallowing the bile that rose in your throat, you grasped her shoulders, shaking her. Her body slid further down the wall when you let go. It remained there on the floor in an unnatural and rigid stillness, heavy.

You tripped as you receded backward, falling against the smooth metal of the door. Terror overcame you and a bewildering sense of lonely unknown stood towering before you in your mind’s eye. Not that you expected to ever see her again. Not that you expected to care, you hated her. But you hadn’t wanted her to die.

“Mom,” you remember choking up her title in reverence, the one and only time in your life you’d ever said the word.

You groaned with pain, suddenly powerless without the adrenaline that was just coursing through your veins. Everything hurt. Your vision, your head, your body, your heart. You were going to throw up. But you’d be damned if you did it before you escaped. You were so close. Just a little further.

Your mouth watered with the impending expulsion of your gut, but you managed to fall backward out of the elevator and stumble to your feet, feeling heavy as you trudged past Al’s inquiry of your health to the panel, ripping every wire out with your fist.

Just once you threw up beside the revolving door of your building before entering. You staggered through it after, feeling a rush of fresh air that told your very soul it was over.

You did it. Now you just had to make sure you survived, but you were good at that.

_________________

April, 2072

You pursed your lips, scowling at the bitter, sour flavor of the lollipop settled on your tongue. Leaning to the right, you lifted your hand from the grip of your bars, reaching through the thickness of your helmet through the open visor and whipping the candy from your mouth with a grimace.

You slowed, unable to afford a littering fine if you just threw it to the wind behind you, even though you wanted to rebel in that way. Too many high-tech cameras on the city streets to get away with anything unless you had the money to pay off the cops.

Which, unfortunately, you didn’t.

Twisting forward to squeeze the brake, you let your bike lull into a quiet purr as you pull off onto a quiet road, looking for the correct receptacle. You let it crawl forward, along the curb, and over a storm drain so you can lean over and drop the candy into the trash. For a moment, you lick your lips, pulling your backpack around to rummage through the bag of lollies inside for a better flavor.

While you search for a strawberry- your favorite- you weigh the pros and cons of just buying a bag of strawberry flavor instead of the assortment. Price, for starters, you scoff to yourself, remembering to pluck the sour apple wrapper from your pocket to toss into the trash. Exclusive flavor bags are more expensive, but you don’t waste as much by throwing out every god damned green apple you pluck from the bag.

Frowning when you come up empty-handed, you take the second-best choice, unwrapping the dark red of a cherry lolly when a presence catches your attention. A man, tall and thin, clothed in dark colors standing still against the bustle of the city. There’s a black baseball cap on his head, pressed down over dark red curls that peek out at the edges.

He’s wearing square, dark-tinted sunglasses that block out his eyes, with ears that bow out from his skull, and you briefly register that he’s built the same all around, in large proportions, from his hands to his face to his towering height.

Even in the late afternoon, his visage glows with artificial color as he basks in the light of a large television displayed in the storefront window. Although his attire tells you he’s trying to conceal his identity, he doesn’t seem to stick out, going ultimately unnoticed by the people passing by him.

His face is turned towards the television as a news channel covers a fire at a large corporate building from last night. It shows impressive plumes of flame and thick smoke, even darker than the night sky, glowing faintly with billions of lights.

The man watching the television bounces a short stick between his teeth, but you can’t tell what it is from this distance. You notice his face moves, the apples of his cheeks rising high as he smiles wide, easily a head above the crowd.

The sound of sirens from the recording of the fire dins away to the sound of an audio clip taken from a phone call. A man’s voice, clearly distorted with an autotune. Raspy, dark laughter, and a bitter promise to chase someone to hell.

A small part of you is smug, rooting for the villain even, and his vicious words to whomever the message are, or was, intended.

The sun is starting to set, and you hate having to watch the skyline glitter with the golden light as you drive on. It’s an unwanted and unnecessary memory, unforgiving in the distance of your timeline.

Luckily, you enter the undercity just as the light grows intense, escaping into the sleepless neon of your world. Into the black market and the tech industry, rife with people who thrive on a never-ending night, as if their veins are made of glass and filled with inert gases to make them glow just as brightly as the buildings here.

You’ve got a lead from a friend of sorts. Someone who you’ve got a history with from your days at the bordello, and who kept you alive once upon a time when you first came to the undercity, terrified but determined to forget yourself and be born as someone stronger, smarter, better.

He’s never given you bad intel before, so long as you could get to it before a clan or a faster loaner. Luckily, you have a natural gift for hacking and the latest model of ‘unhackable’ Hyperbikes are no exception to your deft fingers.

You pull up outside Blue House, scanning the digital bulletin for the job he mentioned. You press your finger to it, holding your breath for the marquee to inform you whether it’s still up for grabs, or if it is unfortunately for you- in progress.

A smile cracks your lips when the green light pops up, and you whip your glove off when the prompter asks to scan your left thumb. A second passes as the soft blue light moves across your finger, chirping in confirmation when it’s done.

You don’t even care what the job is- but Chan promised it would be something you could do. All you remember is hearing a payment sum that could put good food in your stomach for a month straight. The only question you had was why a tech hacking job was showing up on a brothel’s bulletin board.

Ultimately, what was one more undercover prostitution job? You were familiar with the work that came through the bordello, and its basic services. In the last two years, you’ve moved away from it little by little, having made some waves with your work as a hacker in the undercity. Your moniker started to be whispered across the shadows as the underdog, a  genius ‘for the people’ hacker that put bad men where they belonged. Only Chan knew you by two names. The rest of the world only knew one.

The name Maneater.

[allmightluver]

First lines meme

Ooo! 😲 thank you for the tag @justanotherfoolhere !!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20 just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines. Tag 10 authors!

I’m incredibly shy so if you would like to do this, I tag you!!

Ah I have some old stories from old fandoms (or side fandoms I should say), but as for MHA, most of my stories are just wips right now. I have approximately 5-6 stories in the works right now, however 3 are just thoughts yet, not written out, 1-2 are RP’s with another person that I’m not sure if I have the ability to share yet 😅, 1 is....extremely, well...NSFW 🙈 even the first line asfkgkka I’m not going to do that one, you’ll just have to read it on ao3 when it’s done 😖

However! I do have a massive story that’s been in the works for over a year now (atm it’s around 57,800 words), I’ve actually gotten stuck on it half way through and a friend is helping me by rping those parts with me. If anyone remembers from forever ago, I talked about writing a story about Toshinori actually becoming addicted to his painkillers, and overdosing during class, that’s this story. I have a good chunk of this written, so to make up for my lack of stories, I’ll post a few paragraphs of the beginning! (I hope that’s ok! 🙈)

((I should note, I don’t normally rp, the ones I’ve done are just with a close friend or two))

So, here’s a few paragraphs of what I’ve been calling “Painkiller” under the read more...

Eyelids sluggishly rise. Each blink seems to be getting slower and slower. And he’s still talking. How the soft furred mammal at the front of their table can speak for hours at a time without so much as a break is a superhuman feat. Of course, the principal isn’t human at all, which probably is how he can accomplish it.

Black eyes glance at the clock on the wall across from him. 1:50 p.m. This was supposed to be a short meeting. A quick briefing on the school’s protection and security upgrades. This is also the time to give feedback on how the procedures seem to be working. It had started during their lunch break at 12:30 p.m., and it’s still dragging on. Snipe as well as a few other teachers that have classes to teach at this time are absent, but the rest of the available staff are present.

Shota massages his eyelids, refraining from gritting his teeth against the stinging, and promptly tipping his head back to apply his eye drops. They’re almost gone, he’ll have to get a refill from Recovery Girl. Shota lowers his head once again, black locks falling back over his face.

He’s exhausted. A full night on patrol and then the morning teaching at UA. He’s done for the day after this, and all he wants is to sleep. He’ll still have to check in with Eri to be sure she’s been ok throughout the day, before he can collapse on his bed. 

Eri was still adjusting to living at UA, but seemed to be doing well so far. When he couldn’t be with her, she had another teacher or staff member watching her. Thankfully, there hasn’t been an instance with her quirk going out of control. Yet. He hopes to keep it that way. She’s just starting school, but slowly. She has a lot of learning in just living before she can worry much about academic intelligence. But Shota has no concerns of her being able to catch up to her age and grade level. Eri’s proven to be smarter than they’ve given her credit for. Perhaps wiser in some ways than a kid her age should have to be.

Shota usually teachers her in his spare time. His hero work has decreased due to his stacking responsibilities. Last night was the first in close to a month, and he can feel in his sore muscles that it’s been too long. Thankfully, he can rest tonight, but if Nezu didn’t hurry this conference up he’s going to be pulling another all-nighter. The temptation to pull out his sleeping bag and snooze in the chair he sits is becoming harder to resist.

Shota’s gaze moves across the room at the other occupants.

Mic sits to his right, closest to Nezu. The man’s listening, but one can see the bored expression on his face as he picks at his painted nails.

Midnight across the table seems a bit more focused. Her arms rest on her lap as she listens to the white animal, adding in her thoughts every now and then.

Cementoss and Ectoplasm sit next to her, both relatively silent.

Shota’s eyes flick to the chair next to his left before moving to the closed door at the room’s entrance.

Yagi had been here as well. A few minutes ago, he had politely excused himself from the room and had yet to reappear.

Maybe he made a break for it, Shota thinks with envy. Though he knows it’s a lie.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the Number One Hero to duck out of meetings and public places for short periods of time. No one questioned him on it, assuming he had business calls or the like. He was All Might after all, and surely a very busy man.

But now the Symbol of Peace is dead, and still the brief intermissions continue. In fact, they’re increasing in frequency. Shota has high doubts about the possibility of impromptu hero phone calls from the man’s agency, but doesn’t dwell on it.

Everyone, even All Might, has secrets. It isn’t Shota’s job to nose his way into everyone’s personal life.

His sore eyes blink in mild surprise when the door he had been focusing on slides open, and the man in his thoughts shyly stoops his head under the doorway to enter back into the room. Yagi closes the door again and takes his place beside Shota, moving quietly to attempt not to draw attention to himself. But it’s a wasted effort; whenever he’s present, all eyes immediately are drawn to him. Plus, it’s hard to ignore a 7 foot man.

Shota turns away, attempting to refocus on whatever their eccentric principal is speaking about.

For a while, the meeting draws on as usual, Nezu doing most of the talking and the other teachers providing input as they see fit. The way the conversation is leading, it seems like things are starting to wrap up. Finally. The last class of the day starts at 2:20 p.m. and that doesn’t leave much leeway room for any teachers that need prep time.

Shota leans back with a silent sigh through his nose, crossing his arms. The sooner this is over, the sooner he can go check on Eri back at the dorms, and the sooner he can crash. Thinking about anything other is too hard to concentrate on.

Through his sleepy fog, something moves in his peripheral vision. Instinctually looking over to his left, he notices the lanky man next to him has wilted in posture, much like a plant with no water. The haze in Shota’s brain clears only slightly, having something more interesting to observe.

Now actually taking the time to study the other, Shota notices the haphazard blonde mane looks messier than normal. Yagi’s long, sinewy hands are placed comfortably on his lap, though a subtle tremble is running through his frame. A sheen of sweat is starting to form above his brow. Though his eyes remain fixed on the principal, the unfocused haze in the cyan pools gives Shota the impression Yagi isn’t paying attention. The normally bright irises are dull and almost completely hidden in the surrounding black sclera.

He looks pale. Must be sick. Shota lets his attention drift back to Nezu. Toshinori Yagi is a grown adult; he can take care of himself. If he doesn’t feel well, he’ll go home. These thoughts stubbornly go through Shota’s mind just before another pushes itself in.

He remembers the tall man entering the teacher’s lounge only two days after the Kamino incident. Yagi had been completely wrapped in bandages, bruises and stitched up cuts littering his body, and one arm was in a sling. Everyone had expected him to still be in the hospital, and not back to UA for at least a week, maybe two.

Shota recalls the other teachers chastising the ex-hero and trying to convince him to go home, to rest. Yagi had politely smiled, one that made Shota’s teeth grind at the obvious artificial gesture. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, only present to soothe their worries.  But Yagi thanked them for their concern. Even then, their coworkers had tried to assist him in any way possible. He had always insisted he was fine, respectfully refusing their help. It became hard for their colleagues to accept when it was obvious the injured man was struggling with even the simplest tasks.

Recovery Girl had made frequent appearances, much to Yagi’s dismay. It was unfortunate his body couldn’t handle her quirk, and he had to heal naturally, so she made it her job to monitor him. She didn’t even try to deny she was only there to check in on him, to make sure he was behaving himself, at least to the miniscule level she could except from Toshinori. She was always disappointed, and expressed so outright. But she could do little to sway him in his own self-care habits, and he always waved her off with another deceptive smile.

If he had forced his straining, overworked, body to comply during that time, what’s stopping him from teaching his class in 15 minutes?

More movement next to him puts Shota’s thoughts on pause. Dark eyes flick over to the older man, being as inconspicuous about his spying as possible. With the black hair covering his face, most people probably can’t tell where he’s looking anyway, and he’s not moving his head at all.

One of Yagi’s arms slowly lifts to his face, resting his sharp elbow on the table. The large and scarred hand covers his mouth, baring his bony wrist and too-thin arm as his sleeve slides down a few inches. The pose might be meant to look like he’s simply resting his chin, gaze still locked on Nezu like he’s listening intently. But sitting this close to him, Shota can see how the tremors in his body have increased, sweat starting to run down the deep crevices of his face in tiny rivers. The glazed over look in those black eyes has been replaced by one subtly emitting a fight or flight expression.

Shota frowns. He’s gonna barf. The pro briefly wonders if he should use his capture weapon to grab the trash can in the corner of the room to prevent a mess on the carpet, or worse, the table.

Before he can act, Yagi’s chair abruptly slides backwards as the retired hero wrenches his body up, fumbles with the door handle, and rushes out of the room as quickly as his unstable limbs can carry him. He barely manages to slam the sliding door shut behind him before he’s out of everyone’s sight, the hasty squeaks of his shoes on the tile floor growing more and more distant.

Nezu pauses at the sudden outburst, all the room’s occupants staring at where All Might had disappeared. The feel of concern weighs heavily in the atmosphere.

Although Yagi had often left before, he always excused himself quietly or snuck away when the attention wasn’t on him. Something this dramatic has never happened.

-----

And we’ll leave it there for now! This is still a wip remember, so things may be changed here and there, but I hope this makes up for my lack of other stories!

[syms-things-5]

CLEAR THE AREA - Chapter Twenty

Previous Chapter here

Warnings: language and the usual angst

Summary: I made it! My first story at an end. Thanks for stopping by and sticking by me over the last few months. I'm strangely quite proud of myself for sticking with this even when I had zero idea of how things were going to go. I have plans for a sequel of sorts and I hope you come back for that (when I get my ass in gear to write it!).

Tags: Thanks to @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

Chapter Twenty

The hot shower was a welcome relief when she finally stepped inside. It had been a hell of a long day. Far longer than she could recall and she had battled plenty. 

 Sarah had been back at work for a week or so and trying her hardest to deflect questions. Audrey had, she realised, kind of figured most things out without having to awkwardly impose the third degree on her pal. She knew everyone in the family knew and while at first she was happy and possibly even a little excited by that knowledge, her enthusiasm soon turned to concern when Sarah informed her that Shanna had been ignoring all of her messages and calls ever since. None of Audrey’s queries beyond that were met with much more than a non-committal shrug. How could Sarah be expected to answer any of Audrey’s questions when she didn’t have any of the answers to her own? 

 “She’ll come around. She has to.” Audrey said, in her soothing tone that always seemed to work no matter what news she was giving. “She won’t want to lose you. You’ve been friends for years.” 

 A few people had said variations of the same thing to her lately. That Shanna will come around, that she was just shocked but she’ll eventually understand, and that things will get better. Carly said Shanna had a wicked stubborn streak in her that even she struggled with at times but she also knew she loved Sarah very, very much. It was just a tough time but she’ll learn to understand. It would absolutely be OK, she would bet money on it Sarah wasn’t so sure. 

She already knew Shanna was as stubborn as they come - she’d lived with her long enough - so when exactly was she expected to “learn how to understand”? More importantly, why did she even have to? They had been best friends for years but Sarah had betrayed her trust and flat-out lied to her face. Multiple times. “White lies” Scott called them, shrugging them off as though they were a big pile of nothing and just something people do when they need to get out of awkward situations. Sarah wasn’t sure sleeping with her best friend’s brother counted as an “awkward situation” or something that could be casually brushed aside with a sweep of the hand but nevertheless, she appreciated his efforts. 

 These were the conversations that kept circling around her mind as she stood under the shower head. Normally, she wasn’t one for wasting water but she allowed herself to enjoy it a little more this time. The soapy lather and fragrances of lavender and sandalwood surrounded her senses and was very soothing to her brain. 

She barely noticed the fog steaming up the bathroom and focussed on the feel of the hot water cascading over her tired, worn-out body instead. If she died right here, right now, they could say she was probably the most relaxed she had been in months. 

 “Shall we pick you up from the airport? It’s no trouble.” Jocelyn fussed on the end of the line. There was a loud scraping sound somewhere in the near-background so Sarah figured she was back on the DIY again. That, or she had given the pottery classes another go. Recollections of Shanna laughing herself silly at Jocelyn “doing pot” flooded back into her memory all of a sudden and only served to leave her feeling sad in the pit of her stomach. 

“No, Mom, it’s fine. It’ll be late. I’ll just get a cab.” Sarah calmly affirmed, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other shoving yet more clothes into her suitcase. She’d given up on folding like an adult. “The flight could be delayed so I don’t want you hanging around the airport any longer than necessary.” 

 “But you’ll have bags, Sarah. Heavy bags and that’s no good. You don’t want to give yourself an injury.” 

 “Mom, I have one suitcase. Don’t be so over-dramatic.” She eye-rolled. 

 That was the…fourth lie? Perhaps the fifth since this conversation had started? Who knew. Sarah glanced down at the suitcase on her bed currently lying next to a smaller, overnight suitcase. There was also a backpack and a laptop bag sitting ready by her bedroom door. It was just easier this way. If she had to explain her real intentions, she would never finish packing and her parents would be on the red-eye to Boston. 

 “OK, well, keep us posted when you leave and when you land and I suppose we can go from there.” Jocelyn sighed. Whatever she had been doing had now stopped and Sarah could imagine the look of concern on her face. She was momentarily consoled by the fact that her Dad would at least see things from her point of view and hopefully Jocelyn would learn to just drop it. 

 Sarah hung up the phone and went back into the bathroom to finish drying her hair currently wrapped up in a towel. Shanna had shown her a trick with a towel and an old cotton t-shirt some years earlier after she had eventually agreed to stop cutting her hair. “It’s so beautiful and curly but, like, it’s a nice curl? A gentle curl. Honestly, girls would pay so much money every day to have waves like yours.” enthused Shanna at the time. It was a sweet thing to say. Jocelyn had said much the same thing as she was growing up but Sarah always preferred shorter cuts because she couldn’t be bothered to spend time styling it every day. And it would always take time. Too much time. 

 Her longer hair felt so lifeless and dull by comparison, she thought, except when Audrey would blow-dry it during one of their all-too-rare girls’ afternoons and rub this coconut concoction into her roots so it smelled delicious for days afterwards. Or when Chris would gently comb his fingers through it when he thought she was asleep. She didn’t mind it so much then. 

 She finished the last brush-through and switched off the dryer, wrapping the cord around the handle ready for it to be packed. A dab of foundation under her eyes and she looked reasonably well-rested now; well enough so as not to draw attention to any stresses or worries. Jocelyn always had a knack for sussing them out and it was frustrating and unwelcome at the best of times. That she was usually right was beside the point. 

 She mentally ticked off a list of items she made a point of packing; some comfy sweatpants, a couple of books, her particular brand of coffee because her folks now apparently hated the stuff. She located her passport and boarding pass for the tenth time, making sure they were safely zipped in the side pocket of her backpack. She was pretty much done. If it wasn’t for the looming feeling of regret, she would call a cab to take her to the station right that minute. 

 Looking down at her phone, she decided to call Shanna one last time. It rang a few times before a groggy voice appeared on the end of the line. 

 “Hey….” Shanna offered, cold but not totally unhappy to hear her, Sarah thought. The last few times she had tried calling Shanna, it would ring for a lot longer. The shortness here was a small step in the right direction. 

 “Hey, how are you feeling?” Sarah asked with some trepidation, trying not to sound overly familiar and casual. She was trying to follow Shanna’s lead with regards to friendly small talk. 

 “Better. Mom’s been making soup every day. Sick and tired of the stuff to be honest.” Shanna had come down with a small cold and had used it as an opportunity to stay in the relative ease and comfort of her mother’s house. Sarah would much rather have seen her in person before she left but speaking on the phone without one of them, or both of them, ending up in tears was also good. 

 “Well, at least you’re in the best place. Your Mom always makes me feel better when I’m unwell.” Sarah smiled down the line. 

 “I’m not unwell, Sarah.” she said, defensively. “It’s just a cold. I’m just tired.” 

 Sarah feared she’d overstepped the mark. “OK, well, still, it’s good that you’re there. ‘Cos…Lisa would just worry otherwise. Probably.” She was babbling now and she knew it but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Shanna had put up something of a wall between them now and while she was talking to her and not completing freezing her out, it felt different and not altogether pleasant.

 “Yeh, that’s true.” Shanna responded after a brief pause. “But you’re a nurse so you would think I would be better in my own home.” 

 “Nah, I’d just be bringing back all kinds of infectious things.” Sarah joked and was relieved to hear a laugh on the end of the line, a laugh that very quickly turned into a harsh cough. But it had definitely started out as a laugh so she’d take that as a win, too. 

 “So, have you been really busy?” Shanna asked after she managed to clear her throat. 

 “Same old. We have a new intern and she’s pretty eager to get stuck in which is great. Audrey is impressed so that should tell you how amazing she is.” Sarah offered. It had in fact been busier than most days but now wasn’t the time to relay the usual information she wouldn’t normally think twice about offering to Shanna when she had asked. 

 “That’s cool.” Shanna coughed again and cleared her throat. “Have you been working all the time or, um, have you had much of a break?” 

 “Pretty much all the time, yeh. I did those double shifts I was meant to do last month so I’ve cleared my flexi-time now which is good. I’m back on track.”

 “That’s cool.” Shanna said. 

 “Yeh and I built up some more which is good, too. It’ll come in handy at Christmas perhaps.” Sarah was trying to keep the conversation going as best as she could. 

 “Cool. Do you just come home and crash, then?” 

 “Most of the time, yeh.” 

 “You don’t go out anywhere or anything?” 

 “Um,” Sarah had a vague idea of what she was getting at. “I don’t really have time to do anything else. I wanted to get my hours back up to a healthy point. You know what O’Brien can be like.” 

 There was silence on the end of the line. Sarah could hear her shuffle about in what she assumed was her bed. Shanna coughed again, gentler this time, and sighed as she tried to think of what to come back with. She knew she was probably being a little obvious now. 

 “Well,” Shanna started. “I hope you’re getting through it all OK. Y’know, the work and stuff. I hope you’re doing alright.” 

 “Thanks. Yeh I’m…I’m alright.” Sarah replied, touched by the slight concern she could hear her speak. “I hope you feel better soon, too. It’s not fun having a cold particularly at this time of the year.” 

 “I’m sure Mom has been crushing aspirin and vitamins into my food so I’ll be Wonder Woman before you know it.” 

 Sarah laughed. “Absolutely you will. I’ll, er, let you get back to resting. Are you up to much?” 

 “No, I’m just watching Netflix.” 

 “Ah right. That’s cool. Lots of new murder shows from what Audrey tells me.” Sarah nodded. She knew Shanna wasn’t about to launch into a description of what programme she had been binging the last few days so they both vocalised their goodbyes and hung up. It was the first call that had ended on a mutual note and not Shanna making a lame excuse to cut off Sarah’s equally lame attempts at small talk. Again, Sarah took it as a positive. 

 Sarah looked down at her phone, a photo of them both in their graduation gowns on her home screen. She hadn’t changed it since she’d gotten the upgrade a year earlier and she had no intention of doing so now. It was a nice day, a nice memory. The hangover she suffered for days afterwards was more than worth it. 

 She was unsure why Shanna had felt the need to ask her what she’d been up to. She had seemed very specific, more so than about anything else they talked about lately. Naturally, Shanna knew Sarah well enough now to know she relied on work whenever she was dealing with something upsetting and difficult so surely it would have been obvious that she had had zero contact with Chris. He probably would have said as much to her in person. Or he would have talked with Scott or Lisa, and Shanna would have eventually found out by default. 

 The more she thought about it, the more anxious she felt. Knowing how she and Chris had left things, it was almost entirely likely that he hadn’t spoken to Shanna too much. Perhaps he had holed himself up in his apartment like he did following a tiring shoot, trying to sleep and rest and eat whatever carbs he could get his hands on. Maybe the opposite and he’d thrown himself into some training again. Maybe he’d gone back to Los Angeles for work, that he’d finally given in to Matt’s nudges and agreed to accept one of the many lucrative endorsement deals brands would throw his way every so often. Maybe he had been entertaining himself with the boys. Or with someone else. Someone… 

 No. This had been Sarah’s fault. There was no point trying to find justification for his absence. She had created a rift between a brother and sister where one should not have existed. He should have talked to Shanna but from Shanna’s probing and what little information she could gleam from Scott, evidently that didn’t appear to have taken place. She briefly considered googling his name to see if any news outlets had a scoop before deciding against it. She almost made it to her kitchen before giving in and bringing up a search on her phone. No. Nothing. He’d gone radio-silent as per usual. As she suspected. Normally, it was quite impressive of him to go under the radar with such precision but now it was just inconsiderate. How dare he not make his whereabouts publicly known so Sarah could come up with a half-convenient lie as to why he and Shanna hadn’t seen each other. A comforting lie that could make herself feel better about the mess. 

 It would have made her feel so much better to know they were getting along again. Selfishly, it would have made it easier for her to leave knowing that they were finding their own way of getting back on track with one another. Sarah could imagine Lisa fretting to Scott and Carly at night, wondering how she could help her two most stubborn children become pals again. Sarah would rather she had been forgotten completely in favour of them piecing their relationship back together, for everyone’s sake. If there was one thing Sarah hated more than drama, it was knowing she was the root cause of the drama. Separating herself from the family now would be preferable than being made increasingly aware of the glaring hole setting up home in their house. A meteoric hole that she had been responsible for. A hole inside a family unit that had gotten through a lot in their forty-plus years together. A wonderful, loving, generous family that had taken Sarah in without question and had accepted her as one of their own just because Shanna had once said she was “pretty cool”. 

 No, Shanna did not deserve to be frozen out by her brother. Chris didn’t deserve to feel like he couldn’t speak to his baby sister. 

 * 

 Another day passed and Sarah didn’t feel much better. She did, however, feel momentarily relieved by Audrey’s personal admission that she had googled Chris a couple of times as well. Another sip of steaming hot coffee and she further admitted to having set him up on her Google Alerts “just in case”. 

 “For safety. I’m just looking out for you.” Audrey declared before smirking at her across the table. “I didn’t want you waking up one morning to photos of him draped over some starlet or whoever. And don’t think for one second that I will not come for anyone who dares to speak ill of you online. You are beautiful and kind and funny and sweet and absolutely good enough for him. I swear to God and he can quote me on this. Think of me as your own personal hype-woman.” 

 “Wow. Thank you. That’s a lot to take in but it’s very kind.” Sarah laughed nervously. “I think.” 

 “All I ask in return is dibs on designer dresses for the wedding.” Audrey winked at her as she left the staffroom. She didn’t catch neither the eye roll nor the middle finger Sarah proffered in return. 

 A few moments of quiet passed and Sarah pulled up Scott’s number on her phone. 

Sarah 10.45am: Is Shanna feeling any better? 

Scott 10.52am: So so. She’s terrible at being an ill person. I don’t know how you manage it xx 

 Sarah texted a laughing emoji back in response followed by a couple of red hearts. She’d give anything to “manage” an ill Shanna right now. 

 Scott 11.04am: But how are you??? We miss you Xx 

 Sarah could feel the tears forming at the back of her eyes. It had been a couple of days since she had last cried but as her departure flight loomed ever closer she was feeling it more and more. 

 Scott 11.08am: Seriously……… 

 Scott 11.09am: Please come see us soon. Mom is super worried about you and threatening to bring you her tiramisu 

 Scott 11.11am: don’t worry, I stopped her xx 

 She bit the inside of her lip a little too hard. 

 Scott 11.13am: but you owe me one. I had to eat half that thing xx 

 Chris loved tiramisu, she remembered. Maybe he was responsible for eating the other half. 

 It was no good. She was going to have to call him soon. Against the promise she’d made to herself about not thinking about him, it only served to keep her worrying about him more and more. 

 Sarah 11.20am: I know, I’m sorry. Tell her I’ll call her soon, I pormise xx 

 Sarah 11.21am: *promise 

 Scott 11.24am: not sure that’ll do much honeybun. You know what she’s like. Love you xx 

 She texted him a kiss emoji and felt relieved that he didn’t respond again. She pulled up Chris’ number and contemplated sending him a message. How would she even start? A simple “hey” was not going to cut it at this point, nor was a “how are you?”. Time was running out and as Ryan peered his head round the door to check on her, she shoved her phone back in her locker and left to finish off her day. 

 Sarah 15.58pm: Are you still alive? 

 She stayed staring at her phone for what felt like an eternity. Just before she resigned in disgust at her pitiful attempt at casual humour, she saw the tell-tale three dots appear at the bottom of her screen. They flickered for some time before stopping then starting again. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was composing some irate response at her pathetic joke or if he was deleting a message in favour of ignoring her altogether. She wasn’t sure which option she would prefer had she had the choice. 

 No response came through. She pulled a cup from the cupboard and set about making a small pot of coffee for herself. She still had a little time yet before she was due to leave for the airport and she had made plans to clean the place up a little before Shanna returned home, presumably a day or so later when she figured Sarah was safely out of the picture. 

 She picked up some daffodils and daisies on the way home from the hospital and separated the bunches between the living room, the kitchen and the hallway. She had visited two different grocery stores to find Shanna’s favourite flavour of ice cream and the fridge was stocked with some healthy veggies and yoghurt so she could make her breakfast smoothies in the morning. She also set about steam-mopping the hard floors so the clean, floral smell could spread through the entire apartment. It was a nice welcome home, she thought. She would appreciate it if someone had done the same for her. 

 Her phone started vibrating in the back pocket of her jeans as she folded the bedding that was fresh out of the dryer. She wasn’t altogether able to name the feeling she experienced at seeing Chris’ name flash on her screen alongside a photo of him smiling like the goof he was. A beautiful, sweet picture taken from Shanna’s birthday party three years previous. There was a time recently when she’d let it ring a little longer than was necessary just to allow herself the chance to stare at it for a few seconds more. But now was not one of those times. 

 “I genuinely didn’t think you were gonna answer me.” He said, his voice displaying the disbelief he was feeling. 

 “You would have kept ringing me otherwise.” It wasn’t an accusation as such, and he knew it. 

 “Yeh, probably. But I would have tried not to.” He said, matter-of-factly. “I’m not great with sussing women out but I figured you didn’t want to talk to me that much.” 

 She felt sad to hear him say it out loud even though it was true to an extent. He seemed submissive in some way. “Really?” She asked, more beseeching than she had intended. 

 He paused and she could hear him sigh. “Yeh, I would have. It would have been tough but I’ve thought about it a lot recently and I do have a little pride left, believe it or not.” She heard him straighten up and realised he’d been either lying on his couch or on his bed. “But you messaged me first. I’m kinda surprised to be honest.” 

 He wouldn’t be as surprised or impressed if she said it was just to check he hadn’t died in his sleep. She decided to keep that little tid-bit to herself. 

 “You’ve been quiet lately.” She said. “I mean, I thought...I don’t…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t actually know what I meant to be honest. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t haven’t contacted you out of the blue like this.” 

 “It’s fine. I’m glad you did.” Chris was feeling generous and decided to help her put out the fire. He knew she was panicking a little and no matter what else he was thinking right now, hearing her sound apprehensive wasn’t going to make him feel any better. 

 “I just wondered how you were doing, I suppose. I’ve been talking to Shan a little bit. Not a lot, not like we’re back to normal or anything but I wanted to check you were OK as well.” She tugged at the end of her sweater sleeve currently stretched between her fingers. “I haven’t really asked you that.” 

 He thought for a second. How was he feeling? He wasn’t sure he could give her an answer. He didn’t really know and he couldn’t make it sound half-positive even if he did. He had thrown himself into his work a lot more, much to the joy of Matt and some producers who had been trying to get his attention. When he wasn’t working out, he was reading scripts and when he wasn’t reading scripts, he was watching his diet. He had been very quiet on social media to an extent that someone in his PR team had taken to posting a couple of things on his behalf. Just two or three charity posts and something NASA-related to let his fans know he hadn’t completely disappeared. The team had notified him earlier that day that a cute dog video they had posted just 24 hours previous had gone viral and he had received more marriage proposals than usual as a result. 

 By now, he had learned how to fend off his mother and his brother. To be fair, it wasn’t all that hard to do with Scott. Scott had been understanding enough recently and he had the benefit of knowing when to shut up and let Chris go at his own pace. Pushing him was only going to have the opposite effect. More than once, he found himself wondering if Scott had spoken to Sarah. When he tried to hint around the situation to see if that had in fact been true, Scott had shut him down just as quickly. He didn’t mind that all too much. He appreciated Scott’s discretion and no doubt Sarah needed him just as much as he did. 

 “I’m alright, Bernette.” He said. “You know, fine.” 

 “Fine?” 

 “Yeh. Just fine. Nothing more.” He said. He didn’t much care about sugar-coating things but maybe that was out of a little tiredness and boredom. They were way past protecting each other from the other person’s feelings at this point. 

 “Anyway,” he shook his head. “What about you? How’s things with O’Brien?” 

 “Oh y’know. Yeh, fine, I guess.” She replied. “How did you know there was any issue with O’Brien?” 

 “You gotta love that Audrey.” He chuckled. 

 O’Brien had come under fire last week for yelling at a couple of interns and one of them, unbeknown to anyone else, happened to be the niece of a local congressman. Rumours were circling but Sarah and in fact most of her team had no time to pay attention to anything going on above their heads. That’s the thing with medical emergencies, you see: they never stop just because somebody’s job is on the line. 

 “Right.” She said. “What else has she said?” 

 “Nothing much.” He said. “She said you were worried about me.” There was a smugness that she decided to gloss over. Why was Sarah so surprised they had been talking about her behind her back? Why was she surprised that they had each other’s phone numbers? 

 “And you didn’t think to get in touch?” 

 “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.” 

 Sarah chewed her bottom lip. If he could only see her now. He’d get a kick out of it for sure. 

 “Alright. Fair enough.” She sighed. “You’re OK. Good to know. I’ll let you get on with whatever you’re up to.” 

 “Is that it? That’s all you wanted to say to me?” 

 “Apparently Audrey has been filling you in.” 

 “Oh fucking-” He stopped himself. “You cannot be mad about this, surely. Listen, all she said was that you weren’t sure if I was OK because you thought I hadn’t been in touch with the guys. That’s all. She was doing the very thing you should have done yourself.” 

 She paused and swallowed. “Right.” 

 “Come on, Sarah. She thought she was helping. She’s just being a good friend.” He pinched the skin on his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. “And it was like yesterday or whenever. It’s not like we’ve been in touch constantly and talking about you all the time. She hasn’t said anything about how much you’re in love with me or how you can’t sleep for thinking about me.” 

 “What?!” 

 “It was a joke.” He deadpanned. 

 “Oh.” She said. 

 His heart sank – it wasn’t that much of a joke, he had hoped. He slid his hand down his face in frustration, pinching his nose slightly before leaning back on his sofa and staring up at the ceiling. He held his phone tightly to his ear and waited for her to speak. 

 “It’s OK.” She finally spoke. “I get it. I shouldn’t have been so distant these past few days. I’m sorry, Chris.” 

 He certainly wasn’t expecting that apology but he could roll with it. “This isn’t all on you, Sarah. I could have been in touch more, too. With everybody, I guess. I had a couple of meetings I had to prepare for so I think I just took that as an excuse not to be more present.” 

 “Anything fun?” She asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject. 

 “Kind of. Nothing massive. It’s an ensemble piece that a director wanted to talk to me about. It actually sounds pretty cool.” He scratched the side of his beard in contemplation. “It’s your cup of tea for sure. You like those murder-mystery-type films, right?” 

 “Oh yeh! Like Agatha Christie and Poirot? Love them.” 

 “I thought so. It’s a great script and I get some funny lines for a change. It’s something a little different and Matt keeps telling me that I need to think outside of the Marvel box, so…we’ll see how it goes.” He could feel himself growing a little more enthusiastic at the prospect of doing the movie. He should probably call Matt and tell him the same thing. He sounded like he was having a rough day so a contrite and grateful actor would cheer him up no end. 

“Anyway, that’s about it. I’m kinda bored to be honest. Have you eaten yet today?” 

 She had all but emptied the fridge last night to remove anything that might go off in the next couple of days. Now it was filled with some of Shanna’s favourite things and there wasn’t anything in it that really appealed to her at this moment in time. She hadn’t thought much about food all day to tell the truth. She figured she’d grab a bagel while waiting for her flight. 

 “Um, no.” She said. “But I’m not that hungry either.” 

 “You don’t want waffles? With white chocolate? Raspberries?” 

 She did want that now he mentioned it. “No, I’m good.” 

 “That’s a lie.” 

 “It is not a lie.” Even she knew she wasn’t being convincing. 

 “Everybody wants waffles.” He implored. “It’s God’s way of saying he wants you to be happy. Come on, it’s my treat.” 

 “I just think…we probably shouldn’t see each other for a while.” She looked down the hall at the packed bags currently leaning against her bedroom door. 

 “It’s waffles, Sarah. I think I can control myself.” 

 “Um…” 

 “That’s good enough for me. See you in twenty.” 

 He hung up before she could respond. With no opportunity to persuade him otherwise, she stayed put in her kitchen, waiting for waffles. 

 * 

 “Hi.” 

 “Hi,” She smiled at him openly and saw his shoulders relax. Without prompting, he walked in past her and placed the take-out boxes on the counter. They were the size of pizza boxes and she felt her tummy rumble in anticipation. 

 “So, I’ve been thinking.” He started as he turned to face her again. 

 “In the few minutes since we last talked?” She spoke in jest. 

 “Hush, Bernette.” He eye-rolled. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been thinking very seriously these past few days and I know it’s tough right now but just hear me out, OK? Because I think I know a way to make things a little easier. Maybe if you get some time off from work, get some time away from everything, from Boston perhaps, it could actually make things a little better for the both of us. For everyone. I’ve been trying to think about things in a different way and not in my usual blinkered view or whatever the fuck Scott says I have, and I honestly think I’m seeing things a little clearer now, and…” 

 He glanced away from her face for only a split second but it was enough for him to visibly shrink a little in his stance before her eyes. Sarah followed his eyeline to the bags currently resting down the hall. The angle of the suitcase was hiding the other bags behind it but if he shifted a mere foot forward, he could possibly get the full picture. 

 Turning back to look at her, he furrowed his brow in confusion. “What’s going on?” 

 Sarah visibly swallowed and he knew the answer before she even opened her mouth. He became all too aware of her hands and arms hanging limply at her sides. 

 “I’m going to see my parents for a few days.” 

 “A few days? That’s a lot for a few days, Sarah. You normally travel light.” 

 “I just packed for a little longer ‘cos I wasn’t sure what I was going to-” 

 Chris didn’t give her time to bend the truth. He turned and walked back into the kitchen. She watched him move to the window before looking down at his feet and shaking his head in frustration. He rubbed a hand solidly over his beard. “You’re leaving.” 

 “Well, yeh, I’m going to see my parents and the two usually go hand in hand.” 

 “Oh, fuck off, Sarah.” He spat. “Don’t get smart with me. You’re doing a runner. This looks like a fucking cop-out.” 

 “No, you’re wrong. It’s not a cop-out and I don’t appreciate that tone either. If I was doing a runner, do you think I would do it in broad daylight and tell everyone what I was doing? I literally just told you where I was going.” She retorted. 

 She grabbed the last bottle of water from the fridge. She wasn’t particularly thirsty at that moment in time but she knew that he would eventually want it and she didn’t much feel like being accommodating right now especially not to a man who was calling her out in her own home. That he was entirely accurate in his assumptions was, well, irrelevant. 

 “How long are you really going for?” He asked as he watched her disappear from view and back down the hall to her bedroom. 

 “I just told you. A few days, maybe a week or so, and then I’ll figure it out from there.” 

 “Figure what out?” 

 “Just…” She turned back to face him, waving her hand vaguely in front of her in the vain hope he would suddenly understand everything she was trying to say. Either he did and didn’t want to give her an easy “out” or, most likely, he had zero clue because neither did she. Giving up, her shoulders slumped from their squared-off position just seconds ago when she was trying to give the impression of strength. “It’s just a lot, all of this, and I need some time out.” 

 He took another couple of small steps towards her before stopping by her bags. Looking down, he could see her intentions as clear as day now but as he looked back into her eyes, he could see her exhaustion ever clearer. They should be on the same side. He shouldn’t be picking on her this way. 

 “You just said I could do with a break, right?” She shrugged. “So, this is what I’m doing. You should be pleased. You could even say I’m taking your advice if you wanted to.” 

 “Yeh, but I actually meant taking a break together.” He conceded. “I came here to say I thought we could go to L.A. for a little while. I need to check on a couple of work things and I thought you could come with me. Nothing funny, I promise. Some proper sunshine might be cool, right?” 

 Sarah was struck by the kind gesture and the glint of hope now showing in his eyes. Despite what they had both said, he clearly hadn’t lost the small possibility that maybe they could try and forge something out of the ruins and, under different circumstances, she might have been tempted. 

 “Thanks for thinking of me.” She offered, merely giving him a small smile. It didn’t seem like there was much else to say. The bags were packed and now that he could take in his surroundings, it felt a little emptier somehow and like it had all been wiped clean. Except he didn’t feel so clean. He could feel her on him, on his skin and in his head, and he doubted he could remove her as easily as she was clearly hoping she could remove him. 

 “Do you think you’ll let us know when you come back?” he asked. 

 She looked passed him and down the hall, focussing on nothing in particular. “Yes, of course I’ll let you guys know. I’m not going forever.” 

She tried her best to convince him but she knew it wasn’t going to do much. 

 “I know that,” he sighed. “but it’ll be weird not seeing you every day. It’ll be sad. I’ll be sad about it.” 

 He let out a deep breath and shuffled his feet awkwardly as he tried to think of something to say that might drag things out a little more, that might cause her to rethink her plans. It was one of the more frustrating things about her, that she could keep a secret so well. He briefly wondered if he could think of some more frustrating things about her that might help him cope with the current situation but no. Who was he kidding? 

 “I like this apartment.” He finally offered. “Some good memories.” 

 “You know that Shanna will still be here, right?” She chuckled. 

 “But you won’t be.” He said. “And between you and me? You’re kind of my favourite.” 

 “I won’t tell Scott you just said that.” 

 “He knows already. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He said. “Hey, do you think I could come and visit you?” 

 “Um-” 

 “-Just think about it. You don’t need to answer right now. It’s been ages since I’ve been to Maine and I hear they have amazing seafood.” 

 Sarah laughed again and regarded him like the small puppy he so obviously was. A small puppy that she realised she had been kicking ever-so-slowly over the past few weeks and it made her feel like shit. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew she was running away and she knew she was a coward. 

 “I am sorry, Chris. For everything. I can’t really explain it in a way that means anything right now but I just wanted to say it clearly one more time to you in case I hadn’t really said it before.” 

 Chris held his hand up to stop her from saying anything more. He didn’t need an apology from her. Hearing her apologise only made him feel worse. Of the multiple times she had been caught under his gaze, nothing was quite like the way he was looking at her now. 

 “Sarah,” he started. “I need you to know that whatever it is you want from me, I’ll never say no.” 

 “Chris, I-” 

 “-Honestly, that’s….that’s the only thing I really wanted to say.” He held his hand up again to stop her if she was thinking of interrupting him again. “I’m gonna go and I hope you have a safe trip, OK? Enjoy your waffle. Maybe send me a text or something, let me know you made it there in one piece. If you want to. Maybe we’ll see each other again sooner rather than later.” 

 She saw his eyes glance behind her and into her bedroom. He turned and glanced once more into the bathroom like he was taking a mental picture of the place which seemed crazy to her until she remembered that he wasn’t strictly talking to Shanna and it was unlikely he’d be back here anytime soon. God, she hoped they’d fix things. She needed to at least believe her leaving would make things a little better for them. Otherwise, what would be the point? 

 * 

 They didn’t say goodbye in the typical sense or any kind of sense, really. She was almost relieved to watch him walk away quietly without looking back and equally as relieved to have made it to the airport without much more fuss. 

 Like it was said, she was a coward. 

 Audrey had called her to wish her a safe journey and then spent fifteen minutes complaining about O’Brien and a patient who had taken to calling her “princess”. Sarah was glad of the distraction as she made her way through the airport towards the waiting lounge. It was pretty busy for the time of evening but she was glad to feel invisible once again as she moved through the heavy criss-crossing crowds of people, each with their own issues to deal with. Something about strength in numbers perhaps. A couple more hours and she’d be home again. A couple more hours and Jocelyn could stop texting her messages that made little sense. 

 Oh God. 

 Living with her mother again was going to try her patience. Maybe this was the price she had to bear? It wasn’t too late to change her mind, Audrey had said before pleading in a half-joking, half-serious manner that surely, she wasn’t going to leave her to handle the hospital by herself? It was almost like she was expecting never to see Sarah again. A few weeks. That was all it was going to be. Then she’d figure out what to do from there, with a break and some fresh Maine-air to clear the cobwebs. Chris was right about the seafood and the closer she got to her departure time, the more she started looking forward to it. She was sure she was making the right decision. 

 Chris 19.46pm: Don’t forget about us xx 

 She was sure she was making the right decision. 

 It was 100% the right decision. 

 Right?

*

[bedtimebrain]

EXO Baekhyun: Cry for Love Part 2

Just here to give a warning on the ending before you get started!! (ref to a/n in part 1!)

Part 1

Let’s go!!!

Characters: Baek x you

Baekhyun finds himself falling for you, but feels he cannot be so selfish to put the burdens of dating an idol upon you. In an attempt to control his feelings, he tries to stay away from you

That night they got to go home early. Reaching home close to 11, Baekhyun decided there was time for some computer games before sleeping.

After taking a shower, he quickly turned on his desktop, setting all his gaming gears ready. Realising his phone wasn’t with him, he went out to the living room to search for it.

‘Ah, found you!’

As he was about to head to his room after picking his phone up from the sofa, he caught sight of your gift that was sitting on the coffee table. 

He can’t help but feel really conflicted, taking a long look at it.

After a good while, he forcefully shook off those feelings and went back in to get started on his game instead.

‘ARGH! what a bad form today’ he took off his headphones and threw it on the table. Ruffling through his hair, he was so frustrated at himself. No matter how he tried, he just couldn’t keep you out of his mind.

Not having the mood to play anymore, he switched off his computer and crashed into bed.

--

In an attempt to push you out of his mind, he busied himself with work every single day for the next few weeks. Every free time he had, he decided to fill it up with more practice, more work instead.

But he had worked so hard (just to forget you) that his immune system gave up on him. He was eventually excused from work so he doesn’t spread the virus to the members.

And the worst thing of it all? It gave him ample time to think about you.

He thought about the way you smile, the way you listened to him when he shared about anything, the way you looked, so attractively, when you made your coffees. Did you think about him? Did another oppa come by?

Sighing, he got up from bed and decided finally to open the gift you gave him from a month back.

The following day, he woke up feeling much better.  But for the whole morning, he felt this annoying nudging inside of him to go see you. No matter what he did, that feeling just wouldn’t budge.

Did y/n put a spell in the tea she gave me or something. 

He was almost going mad from thinking about you. 

Giving up , he told himself 

Just once, I’m going to drive by and look at how she’s doing. That’s all. Then when I see her being all the same, I’ll finally forget all about this, and convince myself I’m just another customer in her daily life.

The journey to your cafe seemed faster than usual today. His heart was beating so rapidly but he kept telling himself over and over 

just once, doesn’t mean anything

and my heart’s just beating fast because im not completely recovered. Yep, sick people get exhausted easily. 

When he had reached , he park his car where he could get a good view of you. 

He was tempted to get out of his car but his mind was in chaos.

they say coffee helps with headache. Maybe I should get one in case I get a headache at home later right?

Then again, his logical self told him

Ya, Byun Baekhyun stop making up lame reasons. Just stay here.

As he was being wishy washy with himself in the car, a customer had arrived at the cafe. Dashing his hopes of having a private time with you.

Perhaps it was fate that he should admire you from his car today instead.

After getting a satisfactory treatment for his love sick heart, he drove away feeling like a small boy being fed with ice cream.

—

After that visit, it only got harder and harder to stay away. He returned again and again.

But he wasn’t the only one. 

There too was another man who kept returning to your cafe, and today was the fifth time he had seen the man, which really annoyed him.

But what position was he to do anything?

I’m telling myself that I cannot have her as my girlfriend but on the other hand im getting irritated she might become someone else’s girlfriend?

He thought of a crude but relatable phrase he heard from somewhere:

I’m really just wanting to ‘hog the toilet bowl without pooping’

His train of thoughts came to an end as he arrived at the company. After getting his car parked , he went to the meeting room where they were supposed to gather.

When all the members had arrived, the staff who was in charge of the album preparation started running through the day’s agenda.

‘Okay guys, we will be doing an additional MV for one of the side tracks. It would be an autumn special MV.

Since it’s an autumn concept, we will be mainly be doing outdoor shoots. There’s only 1 indoor shoot which will be at a cafe. Anyone has any questions ? If not we will start briefing on the storyboard’

Baekhyun wasn’t able to focus on the meeting. What was he supposed to you when he’s so drawn to you but yet wasn’t sacrificial enough either to be okay with seeing you happy with another guy. In fact, it made him scared to lose you when he never had you in the first place.

Baekhyun ah, let her go. It’s good for you and her. Stop visiting her, it only breaks your heart and at the same time make you desire her more. It’s impossible between the both of you..

By the time he was a little more settled with himself, the meeting had already ended.

‘Okay, that’s all we have today. It’s Thursday today... Alright, We will start shooting on Monday since this is quite a spontaneous idea, we might be a bit back on time. We will start with the cafe shoot on Monday at 10am, only Baekhyun and kyungsoo is involved for this as the cafe is too small. We will update the rest on the schedule later.’ --

4 days passed and now he is standing in front of the cafe for his shoot. Reading the signboard ‘Wendy Cafe’.

For the dramatic effect, he even blinked his eyes again to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. What in the world was this sorcery called fate... It felt abit weird for him to be here for work when he was normally here for his romantic pursuit. It got him into a little of a panic and shock when they alighted from the van.  He wasn’t expecting to see you, since they normally made sure the set was cleared completely for set up before the members even arrive. Though his heart felt it would really be nice to see you, he also heaved a sigh of relief that he doesn’t have to think about what to say to you since you wouldn’t be here.

Entering the cafe, kyungsoo and baekhyun greeted everyone politely and got ready for the set with the help of their make up artists. 

‘Annyeonghasayo Baekhyun ssi, Kyungsoo ssi. I am the director for the MV, Lee Taemin’

Quickly getting up, they bowed politely and returned the greetings.

‘Could I just explain the set to the both you right now?

So basically in today’s set one of you would be a barista, and one would just be a customer….’

The director trailed on with the briefing,

But there was something bugging Baekhyun. Baekhyun could swear there was something really familiar about this man; like he had seen him somewhere before. But he just couldn’t recall exactly right now.

‘Ok, We will have kyungsoo ssi as the barista and Baekhyun ssi the latter. A real barista will be coming in later to help you out kyungsoo ssi, don’t worry’

Finishing his brief, the director turned to leave. Then it finally clicked in Baekhyun’s mind.

Oh gawd, he’s the guy that keeps visiting y/n

Thinking it through, it now absolutely make sense.

When he arrived, he was thinking how were they even able to find this cafe for use?

He thought to himself, surely you and Director Taemin must be really close if you were willing to let your shop to him for use. 

ah, but im sure y/n would let me use it too if i had asked.

He can’t help but feel a little salty instinctively. 

Suddenly across the room, the director exclaimed

‘Y/N you’re here!’

At the sound of Director Taemin calling your name, his heart skipped a beat and he immediately turned his head around to find you walking through the door. And was absolutely taken away

You were not in your pony tail or your white button down shirt with a black apron. You were not in the plain make up you normally put on either.

You came through the door wearing a mid length denim skirt and a white v neck with a green khaki coat that ended at the bottom of your skirt. Your long hair sat nicely at the front of your coat.

Though he had seen a fair share of cute, pretty and sexy girls in the entertainment industry, you somehow still took his breath away. 

As you moved across the room with Taemin, his eyes unconsciously followed where you went. Till when Kyungsoo shook him, was he finally able to tear his eyes away from you.

‘Baekhyun ah, I was talking to you , were you listening?’

‘Ye Ye, what did you say?’

They went on discussing about some of the other schedules they were to be having, until a familiar voice caused him to freeze.

‘Hello, I’m y/n, I’m the owner of this shop. I heard Kyungsoo ssi would be the barista actor? I’ll be the one teaching you later’

Kyungsoo looked up and greeted you politely while Baekhyun was still in a daze.

Seeing how he didn’t respond, you greeted him with a bright smile

‘Hello Baekhyun ssi’

Without waiting for Baekhyun to respond, you asked Kyungsoo to follow you to behind the kitchen now as there wasn’t much time to learn.

Watching you and kyungsoo walked away together, he mentally hit himself in the head. 

oh shucks she must think im a real jerk now. Making friends with her, then not coming here for months and the next time we meet i didn’t even greet her. 

Argh kyungsoo, give me my time with Y/N.

Though he was feeling a little lousy about the situation, he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He sat at corner table inside the shop while waiting for his scene set up to be completed.

Looking at you and kyungsoo, he had a monologue with himself 

though i really like her, i should probably let her go. the smile on her face, though i am confident i will be able to give it to her, but what if i bring more sadness than happiness?

The both of you having fun made him so jealous. He started imagining you with another guy, you with Taemin? He hated that feeling so much, but he had to accept this. He told himself, he must.

About 2 hours later , he was done with his shoot and all could break for lunch. Over lunch time, you and kyungsoo stuck together as time was tight. Kyungsoo couldnt practice using the coffee machine earlier when baekhyun was filming. 

Not once did you look over at him or even seem to think about talking with him. It was as if you guys were strangers.

Ah, great, this is how it should be like. She’s better than me at this. While i’m over here suffering about how to forget about her, she seem to be getting along just fine. She’s completely acting like she doesn’t know me.

Not being able to stand being around you anymore, he annoyed his manager hyung to drive him back to the SM building first. Coming up with some crap excuses that were questionable. But his manager hyung still sent him back since there was still time to spare before kyungsoo was done.

On his ride back, he set his resolve to let you go but he told himself 

no matter what, we were once friends that could count on each other. i don’t want to end up hurting her, and making her lose more hope in friendships. 

I’ll go back tonight to find her.

--

At about 5.30 pm, kyungsoo sent a text message in their group chat that the filming has ended. Receiving that intel, he got ready to head off to your café. The production crew would need at least another half an hour to pack up anyway. He had ample time to get there.

As perfect as he had planned, when he arrived, the café was already cleared of the production team, but the lights were still on. He knew you would still be cleaning up after everyone left.

Out of courtesy, he knocked on the glass door, causing you to jump in surprise instead. Smiling at him, you beckoned him in.

‘Why are you back here?’ You asked while sweeping the floor.

‘It’s been a long time, isn’t it nice to see each other again?’ He asked casually, but he could feel his palms sweating already

You looked up at him and smiled without replying as you continued cleaning up.

‘So how are you? I’m sorry I haven’t been here for really long, EXO’s comeback is coming soon we are really busy ….’

Before he could even complete his sentence, you cut him off

‘Yes I know. It’s all on twitter and I watch your group’s vlive too. I know you guys have a lot to prepare and are really busy. Don’t have to apologise’

Though he knew you truly meant what you say, it broke his heart a little. He wasn’t really sure what to say anymore. But he wanted to ask this since the start

‘Why did you rent your place to be an MV set? Did you know it was for EXO?’

‘It’s just a favour I’m returning to Taemin ssi. He only told me it was for EXO when he asked for my help last week. But anyway, it’s really nice to see you being serious at work. Now I know why you have so many fangirls~’

‘Are you my fangirl now then?’ Baekhyun asked and waited expectantly.

‘Why? Are you going to give me your autograph if I said yes?’ You put aside the cleaning cloth and washed your hands while replying him jokingly.

‘Anyway, I’m done, shall we go?’

You grabbed your bag as you asked. As you walked right passed him, he reached out to grab your arm without even thinking.

Hesitantly, he started

‘Hey actually, I came today because I have something to tell you’

Staring right into his eyes, you replied

‘I kinda knew it already. Why would you suddenly come back here after not being here for so long. And the fact that you’re here at this hour… You’re definitely not coming here as a customer right?’

Looking at him with a hard expression, Baekhyun was surprised to see something other than ‘manners’ or indifference on your face after all this while.

‘I’m really sorry. I don’t even know how or where to start. I really liked your company, the friendship we had meant a lot to me. But as we got more comfortable, I don’t even know when... but....to be honest..

I started falling for you. I didn’t know what to do, can you understand this?’

He loosened his grip, letting your arm slowly slip out of his hands.

‘Remember the day you gave me the gift? I went home feeling so conflicted. I want us to be together so bad, but I know I can’t even promise you a regular and peaceful life, much less a stable relationship now. The weight of dating an idol, how could I put that upon you? ‘

‘You’re right, I could never carry that weight’ you reply came through like a stab to his heart.

He broke his eyes away from you momentarily. But you continued,

‘All this while, I thought I had done something wrong when I gave you the gift. I wondered why you didn’t come back, I thought we were friends, that’s why I even mustered up courage to get a present for you. But you never came back after that. I thought could it be that Baekhyun ssi started finding me weird like all my bullies last time? Was I over doing it? I asked myself that every now and then, worried that my desire to want to be friends with you may turn you off instead.

Sometimes when you tell funny stories, inside I thought how cute this guy is. When you were serious, I thought even though you’re so cheeky on the outside, you’re a man inside having to carry so many burdens. I wanted to say more, do something for you all this time, but I was worried about so many things.

Eventually when you stopped coming back for a while, I felt heart broken. 

But I used the time to think it all through. What did I want with you? A friendship? Something more? And I decided it’s best to not desire anything at all. I could never handle it if one day I want something more that neither of us could give each other’ 

Though you tried so hard to control, tears rolled down your cheeks. It hurts him to know he was the reason for your tears. 

He reached out to wipe your tears away, and you let him. 

‘Baekhyun ssi, I… I’m sorry too’ 

Overwhelmed with emotions at all the confession and looking at your beautiful face that leaned against his hand, he couldn’t hold back anymore, He closed the gap between both of you and gave you a kiss on the lips. A kiss so light it barely lasted a few seconds.

Heart beating fast, he pulled away slightly, his face still so close to yours. ‘I’m sorry for being selfish right now. But I want you to know this is how I feel.’

Before he knew it, your lips pressed against him once again. Briefly, then pulling away, you pushed him away, putting some distance between the both of you.

‘Me too. But Baekhyun-ssi...

Sometimes love isn’t about possessing, but giving

So I’ve told myself it’s okay for me as long as I can see you and support you in my own way. Be it your albums, shows, or whatever it may be.

My café doors will always be open for you as long as you need a listening ear or even just coffee....

Don’t be sorry. I understand, I just want to be the safe space you can still go to, rather than your burden.. If we were together.’

He could tell you were trying hard to manage a smile just so he could feel better. He moved closer and pulled you into a hug. 

‘I know you said not to be sorry, but I’m sorry ... And thank you’, his voice akin to a whisper

After a long pause, you returned his hug, and at your touch, he was at the brink of tears. You were possibly his once in a lifetime, but here you both were, giving up on each other, for each other.  He tried so hard to hold back his tears, but they streamed down eventually 

He rarely ever cried, but for you… If he couldn’t have you, at least he should be allowed to cry for you. 

He tightened the hug and could only wish for the night to never end. 

——-

Was hella hard to write this, sorry for this really tragic ending.

But partly writing it this way because I guess as fangirls one of the best things we can give our favs is a safe space to be real with us. Love isn’t about possession. So let’s love them right ok☺️

On a side note, was shook at his fan sign convos. Especially the one he said though he said it’s ok if we leave him for a while because it’s difficult to wait, he didn’t actually mean it.

What a sweetheart!! All the more makes me feel like he might really respond this way if he is faced with this kind of situation (as in this fanfic)?!

Anw hope you guys enjoyed this !

Tag(s): @wooya1224

[fizzingwizard]

Episode 41 was another fun one! It doesn’t seem related to the main plot, but that’s ok because we needed more world-building. And it does give us a bit of character development. Most importantly of all, it’s the DESPERATELY needed Sora-focused episode. And it’s all hers. We really needed this for Sora and I’m really happy with how it went down. It’s a simple, easy to follow story, and yet it was still cute and funny and good for Sora.

My one complaint would be that, though it’s great to see Sora be awesome and see her friends appreciate her, she didn’t seem to have something she needed to “overcome” like Jou and Koushirou, or something she had to prove like Yamato and Mimi. There’s definitely an important theme for Sora which, like the others, is related to her Crest. It just didn’t have the gravitas I felt it needed. It was a much sillier episode than Yamato’s, for instance. (But nowhere near as silly as Jou’s.) Still, overall very good.

Pic of the day:

A vision of perfection.

More below!

First off, the animation in this episode is really nice. Almost uniform througohut, and some seriously great expressions. CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

The kids are taking a break (yay!!!! again!! I sweat the producers are reading my blog, HELLO PRODUCERS, THANKS FOR GIVING ME EVERYTHING I ASKED FOR, lol). Taichi and Sora spend it teaching the Digimon to play soccer. Interestingly, some of the Digimon evolve in order to play x’D I guess I can see why Gomamon can’t really play unless he’s Ikkakumon. Plus Tailmon is already Adult level anyway.

It’s really fun to see how much Sora and Taichi both love soccer and love playing it together. Koushirou has a cute moment explaining to the others how awesome Taichi and Sora’s teamwork is.

Sora blows the whistle on Tentomon for grabbing her because you don’t do that in soccer. I think this is a little unfair given that Tentomon can’t really kick the ball that well since he’s got bug feet xD

The whistle Sora has, for some reason, is Jou’s, given to him by his brother so that if he runs into a bear in the woods, he can whistle for help. Lol. That is adorable and hilarious. Still wish it was Hikari’s whistle though

Speaking of Hikari, she and Takeru are happily engaged in making flower crowns together while Patamon smushes the grass.

All of a sudden, these weird, veiny meteors come crashing from a huge island floating in the sky, leaving a crater in the field. Could be dangerous!

Taichi: I’m not afraid. Besides, I’m curious.

Yamato: Be careful, Takeru.

Takeru: Yeah, be careful, Hikari.

omg too cute

I mean look at these expressions and body language. It’s fantastic. I love how Taichi looks like he’s trying not to get too close as he pokes the object with a stick and how Koushirou is like hiding behind his computer lol.

They discover it’s not a meteor, but a fruit. (And look another adorable Taichi face!) Question is, is it edible?

Agumon: Sure is!

Taichi: D:

no seriously I love Taichi being freaked out by his own partner. Lol. It’s one of the best things about Taichi & Agumon. I ate it up in Tri lol

So, I expected Yamato to be the downer of the group here along with Jou, but he’s just concerned that the fruit is too small for everyone to share. Aw what a mom.

It’s also pretty funny that, when a floating island appears and a mysterious fruit falls down with enough strength to leave a crater in the ground, the kids’ reaction isn’t to wonder about what’s going on, but to try to figure out how to eat it lol.

At this point they’re just so used to floating islands that it’s lost all novelty. They’re like, “oh, floating island, been there done that”

Agumon comes up with the obvious solution and Taichi and Sora fly up to the island together to get more fruit. Why only two of them go... is convenience for the episode xD

But it does lead to some good Sora moments and Taichi/Sora friendship. First, Sora is absolutely adorable. Even Agumon comments that she seems in a really good mood and Taichi can tell it’s because of how much she loves playing soccer. The way Sora talks to him, all fast and excited, is just so cute. You can tell she really loves soccer, especially with Taichi.

This episode kinda made me ship Taiora ;_; it was honestly more Taiora than any one episode in the 99 show...

Meanwhile, another giant object starts falling off the island towards the rest of the kids, and Palmon makes THE WEIRDEST SOUND. Like SO WEIRD. I think Yamada Kinoko passed out and made this noise while recording or something bahahahaha

Anyway it’s a refrigerator. Now appliances are falling out of the sky. I don’t understand why it makes the same size crater as the fruit despite being way heavier.

OMG baby Taichi’s hairrrrrrr I cannot

Soon they come across Flymon (why do Sora episodes always involved bugs...? This is the third time lol) who’s abducted a very helpless looking Digimon. They decide to help. Agumon gears up his Baby Flame but is stopped by Sora, who realizes that if they attack they might hurt the victim as well. I assume this is meant to tell us that, while Taichi’s brave and a strategist, another pair of eyes from someone like Sora whose first priority is others’ welfare is a big help.

... except that Sora’s plan for “tackle them” doesn’t seem to me that much better xD It still results in the poor abducted Digimon falling through the sky to her doom... I guess it’s better than falling out of the sky and alsobeing on fire tho

They catch the Digimon, who is Pomumon and just as pathetic as he looks. Meanwhile they’re being attacked by... Tropaliamon? Tropicanamon? lol I already forgot, a big bird with the ability to MELT ENTIRE FORESTS.

Pomumon explains that Evil Tropical Bird-mon and his Flymon invaded the island and started turning all the Pomumon into fruit. When the fruit ripen, they eat them. Pomumon is now the only Pomumon who hasn’t been fruit-ified.

Agumon: ... so... does this make me a cannibal?

Taichi: Maybe now you’ll be mindful of what you eat!

Okay and now the most AMAZING interaction ever, between Yamato and Mimi, and seriously it is a TRAVESTY that they don’t interact directly in the 99 series, I mean LOOK AT THE GOLD WE GET HERE,

Mimi says she hopes there’s fruit or juice in the fridge. Yamato makes an expression like someone just insulted his mother.

They then proceed to argue over what constitutes “juice” and Yamato’s all fired up about it and Mimi’s just like “lol not listening”

IT IS HILARIOUS. Quality content. Mimato shippers eat your heart out

And... this is all they do for the rest of the episode. bahaha. I DON’T EVEN CARE. I love the idea that they fought over this the WHOLE time and never even opened the fridge. The others just had to listen in baffled astonishment xD

Taichi and Sora fight Evil Tropical Bird-mon to save the Pomumon, but Taichi and MetalGreymon get knocked into the pitcher plant that turns Digimon into fruit.

Metla Greymon doesn’t quite fit into the fruit, his horns are really stretching it out lol.

and asdfghjkkl;’‘ TAICHI GETS TURNED INTO A FRUIT TOO, HE’S A DEFORMED BLUEBERRY, HIS GOGGLES THO, LMFAO

i really shouldn’t be as amused as I am

now... I have to say it - the one thing here is, the show has already played its trump cards like Omegamon and WarGreymon. I am sure they have more in store before the end, but the point is, it’s hard to believe Taichi is struggling against Digimon who seem like they shouldn’t have a chance against him. It’s like, you can defeat DoneDevimon, but not Evil-Tropical-Birdmon? You can escape the influence of Millenniumon’s miasma, but not a pitcher plant?? lol

Sora gets ANGRY when Taichi becomes Taichi-fruit. Her Crest of Love glows and brings out Garudamon. Taiora fans around the world screamed.

One way or another, this leaves Sora on her own (yay). And she is a busy girl. She wants to save Taichi first, but Pomumon also needs her help, and Garudamon needs her support while fighting the enemy.

Pomumon: don’t worry about me! I can fly on my own! *fails miserably*

Sora’s face says “I just don’t understand this world,” lol

They are then attacked by Flymon, and Pomumon still pretty much expects Sora to protect him. Sora’s like, “Fine, I’ll deal with Flymon, but you have to go save your friends,” and when Pomumon asks how, she just says “GOOD LUCK” and tosses him away, which honestly made me laugh out loud, you go girl

she’s like QUIT BEING SO USELESS DO SOMETHING ON YOUR OWN and just chucks him

buhahahaha

Pomumon, despite being useless, is able to free one of his comrades. After a brief discussion about how useless they are, they go to save the others.

I believe I can fly

I believe I can touch the sky

think about it every night and day

spread my wings and fly away

Sora thinks back to yet another soccer game where another student did a foul, I guess, on Taichi, and knocks him to the ground. Seeing Sora get so angry and protective of Taichi - omg, it totally squeezes my heat, gah. And it also makes her look so cool. Not just the girl in the back who comforts you when you fall down - also the one who runs up and tells the bully to back off!

that hair tho

Even though he’d been hurt, Taichi encouraged Sora not to quit playing and to win the game. In present time, Sora recalls that instance and uses it to push herself onward:

At this point, I could’ve gotten annoyed: as much as I loved the Taiora friendship and seeing their teamwork, it’s Sora’s episode, and I didn’t want her to succeed because of “what I learned from Taichi.” However, it’s very similar to Koushirou’s episode, where it was the faith Taichi had in him that gave Koushirou the confidence to find the courage he already had. It’s similar for Sora. Plus, since she’s got the Crest of Love, it makes perfect sense that love for her friend would be a motivating factor here.

On top of that - the things Sora thinks about Taichi are then echoed by Garudamon, only about Sora. Sora won’t give up because Taichi never does - and Garudamon won’t give up because Sora never does. You can see the chain reaction: friends building each other up through their support and faith in each other. Very sweet.

buhahahahahaha the freaking taichi blueberry

I really expected Taichi would be a little more wigged out about having been TURNED INTO A FRUIT,  but once he’s free he’s like “Thanks, now let’s get back to the fight!” lol

to be fair there were only a couple minutes left in the episode, no time for freak outs i suppose

They save MetalGreymon who goes to back up Garudamon, but then Sora comes up with a plan.

Of course, it’s related to soccer.

Obligatory Cool Girl Soccer Star Sora shot

They kick the ball to lead the Pomumon’s seed? attack directly into Evil Tropical Bird-mon’s mouth. This... seems to be our kids’ favorite play this season, lmao

While choking on seeds, Garudamon and MetalGreymon launch their attacks and finally defeat him. Yaaaay goodbye weirdass fruit transmogrifying cannibal Digimon bird thing

Taichi tells Sora she’s awesome T______T It’s soooooooo sweet. My Taiora heart leapt

and my Taishiro heart whispered “he said カッコよかった to her but saves すごい for Koushirou <3 “ lol

Soooooo cute. MVP

Garudamon agrees that Sora is awesome

Ending card

So... the honest truth is yeah, this episode wasn’t necessary for the plot at all, and it would have been nice if it had been. But not all of the others’ center episodes were plot-related either. The important thing was for it to be wholly Sora’s episode and give her some Crest-related development. It did both those things.

I really would have liked a conundrum for Sora to fix, but I think the problem there is, since before now she wasn’t getting attention at all, they hadn’t set much of a foundation for that conundrum. The first time around, it was “oh, Sora is kind, so she wants to help anyone she sees” and there was a bit of personality clash with Yamato. Though it was small, it was a good bit of development and useful for two characters. It also led to Yamato and Sora’s friendship strengthening. With Taichi and Sora, we’ve been told they’re friends and teammates, but have not seen many strong examples of that. And, if there’s a fight between them, it could easily turn into a Taichi episode... that’s what I think anyway. So I guess the focus point for this episode was showing how Sora’s deep love for her friends strengthens her already, and maybe there’ll be more complex problems in the future, perhaps when she gets her next evolution... We’ll see.

Anyway. Good episode. So glad to see this show seems to be pretty solidly back on the rails. We only have like 20 episodes left though, seems like a lot but it’ll go fast.

That’s why I’m a bit surprised to see that next week looks like another not really plot-related episode:

Takeru and Yamato are going to a theme park. There’s no context for why they’re not with the others, but my guess is Takeru wanted to go and Yamato took him... easy as that xD I guess we’ll see, but I really hope this doesn’t mean the team is splitting up again.

However, we really do need quality time with Yamato and Takeru as well, so I’m all for this. It’s like the show really has got some self-awareness about how lax it’s been developing characters and relationships thus far and is now cranking it HARD to fit everything in we’ve been missing. Good.

[eliemo]

The Little Things

Now that they’re getting to know Virgil, welcoming him as family, the other sides begin to notice behavior they hadn’t picked up on before. Patton just wants him to feel safe. 

Words: 3,698

TW: Brief panic attack, Virgil thinks he’s gonna be punished or hurt for a few minutes. Also like one swear word 

They noticed the little things first. 

Logan was likely the first to notice how jumpy Virgil really was now that they were all spending more time together, how sensitive he was to loud noises and sudden movements, but Patton was fairly sure he was the only one to see beyond that. 

It wasn’t hard for Patton to pick up on how quickly Virgil would tense if he thought one of the other sides were in a particularly bad mood, how he would go quiet if someone raised their voice whether it was directed towards him or not, how he would reach for any excuse to retreat to his room if he thought something was wrong. 

It hadn’t been like that before they’d accepted him. He hadn’t been so scared. 

Or maybe...maybe he had, and they just hadn’t bothered to notice. 

Living either in almost total isolation or with the other dark sides his whole life, it was obvious Virgil wasn’t used to their way of life. He wasn’t used to the kindness and understanding they were offering. 

But that was ok. They would help him. He was family now, and he was learning. He was safe. 

But then...then the small hidden things became a bit more obvious, and it was clear this wasn’t just Virgil’s general anxiety. 

It was the ‘mug incident,’ as Patton had internally dubbed it, that had finally clued them in to how bad it really was. 

Roman, as kind and caring as he was, and how hard he tried, was never one to pick up on subtle signs. 

It was mid afternoon, Virgil perched on the armchair while Logan and Patton stood by the TV mulling over movie options, when Roman stormed in from the kitchen, a broken Disney mug in his hand, deep frown etched on his face. 

It wasn’t genuine anger, Patton knew Roman well enough by now to know that. It was just frustration amped up for the sake of dramatics. 

They all should have realized Virgil wouldn’t know to pick up on that yet. 

“Do any of you want to tell me why,” Roman announced, holding the pieces of the mug in the air. “My beloved Disney mug was left destroyed on the counter?” 

Logan turned to face him, unaffected, adjusting his glasses. “I assume because it broke.” 

“Obviously! Which one of you broke it?” 

“I did the dishes this morning, kiddo,” Patton said, smiling sadly at the broken mug. “It wasn’t broken when I saw it.” 

Logan sighed. “I did not go anywhere near your mug today, Roman. Besides, can’t you just fix it on your--” 

“It’s the principle of it!” Roman whirled around to Virgil, who had been silently watching the exchange with wide eyes. “Alright, emo! Confess to your crime!” 

Virgil actually jumped, fingers curling into the cushions of the chair, shoulders curling up to almost reach his ears. Roman was clearly expecting to banter back and forth, and Patton knew that in any other situation that was exactly what he would have gotten. 

“I-I didn’t break it,” Virgil said, stumbling over his words a bit, refusing to look Roman in the eye. “It wasn’t me.” 

Roman groaned and Patton frowned as Virgil went rigid. The creative side didn’t seem to be picking up on anything unusual, and Logan had gone back to flipping through channels. 

“Oh come on, Virgil! Obviously it was you, you’re usually the last one in the kitchen. It’s not even a big deal, why didn’t you just tell me it was broken?” 

Virgil shook his head, curling further into himself like he was hoping for his hoodie to swallow him up, and Patton slowly rose to his feet when he saw something far too close to genuine panic in his eyes. 

“I didn’t break it,” he said again, somehow even quieter than before. “I didn’t...I-I’m not lying, it wasn’t me, I’m...I haven’t been in the kitchen.” 

“But you--” 

“Roman,” Patton said, forcing his tone to stay light. “I was in a hurry this morning, maybe I just left it balancing on the shelf weird. And if not, I’m sure it was just an accident, right?” 

It was a bit too pointed to be taken as entirely casual, and Roman cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly, clearly picking up on Patton’s worry. 

But before Roman could hopefully change the subject, Virgil was speaking again, his voice now shaky and almost...desperate. 

“I didn’t...I didn’t do it, Roman I swear it wasn’t...i-if I had broken it I would have cleaned it up or-or fixed it I promise, I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t have-have left a mess.” 

Roman’s brow furrowed, and he briefly glanced back at Patton and Logan, whose attention had been recaptured by Virgil’s rambling. 

“I...I know,” Roman said carefully. “Virgil, I...I wasn’t gonna--” 

He took a step towards the armchair, freezing when Virgil flinched backwards, eyes impossibly wide and clouded with fear. 

“I-I didn’t break it!” It was louder this time, still small and trembling, staring at the other side like he was wielding a deadly weapon. “I’m not lying I swear I-I didn’t, I…” 

Patton could only stand there, looking helplessly between the two of them, Logan just as lost beside him, while Roman carefully set the mug down and slowly dropped to a crouch in front of the chair. 

“It’s ok, Virgil,” the prince said, soft and slow, and Virgil’s rambling abruptly cut off. “I’m not mad, see? It’s ok.” 

Virgil didn’t relax, didn’t move, just glanced briefly at Patton and Logan before turning back to Roman. “You...you were. You were mad, and you--” 

“I wasn’t,” Roman promised gently. “Even if you did break it--” 

“I didn’t,” Virgil insisted, then stiffened as if just realizing he’d interrupted Roman. But the prince just smiled again, extending an open palm. 

“I know. I believe you. I’m not mad, I was just messing around. I’m so sorry, Virgil. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

It took a moment for anything to change, Patton sending reassuring smiles and Logan quietly counting out a pattern for Virgil to regain control over his breathing. Roman didn’t move, knelt beside the chair with his arm outstretched and waiting. 

When Virgil finally began to relax, his eyes clearing a bit, he let out a shaky sigh and warily took Roman’s hand, still visibly tense like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Kiddo?” Patton called after a moment, taking a careful step forward. “You alright?” 

He saw Virgil nod, swallowing roughly. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Sorry for...sorry about that.” 

Logan frowned, moving to stand beside Patton. “I fail to see what you could have to apologize for, Virgil.” 

Virgil shrugged and rested his chin on his knees, but he still held on to Roman’s hand like a lifeline, and the Prince made no move to pull away. 

“My sincerest apologies,” Roman said. “It wasn’t my intention to scare you. I mean, I’d be a rather lousy excuse for creativity if I couldn’t fix a little broken mug, right? It wouldn’t have been a bother even if you had broken it.” 

It got a small, unsure smile from Virgil, but the anxious side still didn’t look particularly calmed. 

“Besides,” Logan spoke up, something unreadable in his expression. “A broken dish is nothing that should cause you distress. I’m sure you know you can always inform us if an accident happens without consequence.” 

It took a moment for Virgil to answer, hands clutching the cloth of his new hoodie, but he eventually nodded, not looking like he entirely believed what he was being told. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice strained. “Yeah, I just thought...I don’t know. It’s whatever, you guys. I’m fine.” 

They begrudgingly dropped the subject after that, seeing as how keeping the spotlight on Virgil was only succeeding in making him more uneasy, but Patton was sure to make very clear that his door was open if Virgil ever wanted to talk about it. 

It had been a little over a week now, and no one had mentioned the incident again, instead going back to focusing on making sure Virgil felt safe and included like they had since learning his name. 

They were all getting closer, even in the short time since accepting him, and Virgil was visibly relaxing. He was still anxious and withdrawn, but less so everyday. Things were getting better. 

And then…

And then things got worse. 

Virgil was having an off day. They could all see he was a bit extra jumpy and unfocused throughout the day. 

It made sense, Thomas had been particularly stressed and Virgil, as his anxiety, was handling the brunt of it. But he hadn’t locked himself up in his room like he would have done a week prior, and Patton considered that progress.  

Virgil had finally started eating with them regularly as well, more often than not hanging around long enough to help with prep and cleanup. 

The four of them were cooking dinner tonight, careful to keep the atmosphere calm and lighthearted, and Patton wanted to squeal with happiness each time he saw a tentative smile cross Virgil’s face. 

Patton and Logan were handling most of the food while Virgil and Roman washed, dried and put away dishes as they went, the prince humming Disney songs loud enough for everyone to hear. 

It was nice. They were finally a family, just as they should be. 

Honestly, what happened next was entirely Patton’s fault. He hadn’t even been thinking about how the other side might interpret it. 

The kitchen was roomy but it wasn’t huge, and it was a bit crowded with all four of them working in it at the same time. Patton was moving away from checking the stove just as Virgil was moving to put a clean plate away and ended up bumping into his shoulder as he made his way back to Logan. 

It happened so fast, Patton didn’t even get a chance to try and catch the plate as it slipped from Virgil’s hands and hit the ground with a crash, shattering into pieces. 

It wasn’t a big deal. Things broke all the time. In the mindscape, especially with Roman, they could clean it up and snap a new one into existence in moments. For a second, Patton didn’t think anything of it. 

“Whoops,” he said, stepping away from the glass shards. “Sorry about that, kiddo. You ok there?” 

There wasn’t an answer, and when Patton looked up he realized Virgil wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at Logan. 

Logan, who had turned around at the sound of the noise, knife still in hand from chopping vegetables, watching with a mix of concern and confusion. And Virgil’s expression held more terror than Patton had ever seen. 

“Virgil--” 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he managed, Logan only seemed more confused when Virgil only seemed to focus on him. “I-I didn’t...It was an accident.” 

“We know Virgil,” Logan said carefully, but the reassurance only seemed to panic Virgil more, wide eyes moving now to all three watching sides. “We are not--” 

“Lo,” Patton called softly, heart breaking when he saw where Virgil’s eyes kept landing. “You need to put that down, kiddo.” 

Logan cocked his head slightly, eyes widening when he followed Patton’s gaze to the knife still clutched in his hand. “My apologies, Virgil. I hadn’t realized.” 

And maybe Logan moved a bit too fast, maybe Virgil was too far gone in his panic to hear the apology, but moving to set the knife down on the counter behind him only seemed to break the dam holding back the last of Virgil’s fear. 

He jumped back, Patton wincing in sympathy when his back collided with the edge of the counter, but he didn’t even seem to register the impact. 

“I’m sorry, I-I’m so s-sorry, please, please I-I’ll clean it up! I’ll clean it up right now y-you don’t have to be mad I won’t...please, I can fix it, I can--” 

Patton would hate himself for it later, but in his desperation Virgil was lowering himself towards the broken glass, eyes never leaving Logan, moving like he was going to grab the shards with his bare hands, and parental instinct took over. 

“No!” Patton hurried forwards to stop him, and while he did get Virgil away from the glass, the outburst and sudden movements were definitely not what Virgil needed. 

The anxious side’s eyes filled with tears as he scrambled as far back as he could get, breathing quick and erratic, words coming out in frantic gasps. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to...I’m so sorry I just thought--” 

“No, no it’s ok!” Patton’s vision was beginning to go blurry with his own tears. “I just didn’t want you to get cut on the glass!” 

But Virgil wasn’t listening, pressed up against the wall, hands moving to protect his face like he expected someone to hurt him. 

It was so much different from the Virgil they’d gotten to know, scared and anxious sometimes but refusing to let himself fall apart in front of anyone, always holding himself to some standard of composure. 

Roman was clutching Patton’s arm, keeping him from rushing forward again, the prince pale and frozen. Logan had set the knife down, clearly doing all he could to compose himself and understand the situation. 

“Virgil,” the logical side said after a moment, more hesitant than Patton had ever heard him. “It was just an accident. Nobody is going to be upset with you. And I assure you, nobody here would ever have any intention of causing you harm.” 

“Of course not,” Roman said, Patton quickly agreeing. “What on earth made you so frightened, Stormcloud?” 

Virgil didn’t answer, gaze still jumping from one side to another, tense and trembling as he seemed to struggle to understand what was being said to him. 

“I...I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. It seemed to be his go-to phrase tonight. “I didn’t m-mean to ruin things.” 

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton said, still unable to move forward, furiously wiping tears from his cheeks. “You didn’t ruin anything. I promise.” 

“I…I’m s...I’m sorry.” 

“Perhaps,” Logan said suddenly. “It would be of benefit to you to discuss this outside the kitchen. Do you require assistance getting to the living room?” 

Virgil was still trembling, curled into a ball, eyes red and jaw clenched tight. “I...I think so. Sorry, I just--” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, kiddo.” Patton glanced at the glass scattered across the floor, then at Roman, the only side still wearing shoes. “Will you--?” 

“I’ve got him.” 

It took a minute, Patton moving to stand by Logan while Roman carefully made his way to Virgil’s side like he was approaching a wounded animal. 

Patton didn’t miss how badly Virgil flinched when Roman lowered himself to the floor, how tense he went when the prince made a move to touch his arm. 

“I won’t hurt you,” Roman said softly. “You have my word. Can I carry you to the couch, please?” 

Virgil nodded, hesitant, and Patton’s heart broke at the quiet whimper that escaped when Roman carefully lifted him bridal style from the kitchen floor. 

“You’re alright,” Princey promised, sending a worried glance over his shoulder as Logan turned off the stove. “You’re safe, you’re ok. We’re almost there.” 

They made it to the couch quickly, Patton and Logan following closely behind, the three of them allowing Virgil his own space as soon as he was set down on the cushion. 

He instantly took advantage of it, pressing himself as far back as he could, knees pulled up to his chest, refusing to look any of them in the eye. 

Logan was seated on the coffee table across from him, Patton carefully lowering himself onto the opposite end of the couch, Roman perched beside him on the arm. 

Logan cleared his throat, hands folded in his lap. “Virgil--” 

“I-I don’t know,” Virgil said, still horribly small and shaky. “I’m sorry I just...thought y-you would all be angry with me. Again. If I...I-if I messed up and then I did and I thought...I thought--”

“Nobody’s angry,” Patton said. “Never over something like this Virge. And even if we were...you don’t ever need to be afraid of us.” 

Virgil hunched his shoulders, staring resolutely down at his lap. “I’m sorry. I should have...I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok, we--” 

“I just-” Virgil took a breath, knuckles turning white in his grip, the three sides falling silent as they waited, hoping silently. “I just don’t...I don’t want to leave.” 

Logan tilted his head, confused, looking to the others who were equally perplexed. “Leave...where? We of course would never force you to go to your room if you’d prefer company.” 

Virgil shook his head, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, and Patton’s chest clenched in sympathy as he watched him fight to get his thoughts together. 

“I mean I don’t...want to go back. This has all been really great. You’ve...you guys have been really great. And I know you-you didn’t really like me before and now that you know you n-need-need me you could...you could do whatever you want to me if I f-fuck up or...or make me leave and I don’t want to...to lose this.” 

“Oh, baby…” Patton scooted forward, unsure how to respond, feeling his heart break in two. “Can I...Virgil, can I hug you?” 

Virgil’s gaze shot up from his lap, shocked, but he nodded and let Patton wrap his arms around him, cringing at how badly he was shaking beneath his hoodie, pulling him against his chest. 

The anxious side’s breath hitched, and Patton just held him tighter as he finally dissolved into sobs, clutching at Patton’s shirt like he thought he would be ripped away at any second. 

Like Patton would ever let him go. 

“It’s ok, kiddo,” he promised. “It’s alright. You’re family now, remember? Nothing’s gonna happen to you.” 

“Indeed.” At some point, Logan had gotten up from the coffee table to sit beside them, carefully putting a comforting hand on Virgil’s back. “Even if we were angry over something, it would be an issue we could easily work out. Together. You never need to be afraid of losing us.” 

The logical side began to rub soothing circles along Virgil’s hoodie, a clear attempt to help him settle down, while Roman cautiously scooted forward and placed his palm over Virgil’s hand, Patton still holding on tight. 

“You’re one of us now,” Princey said. “Which means I am sworn to protect you! As long as I live and breathe, you’ll never be alone again! No harm shall ever--” 

“Alright, Roman,” Patton said, gazing fondly at a now smiling Virgil. “I think he gets it.” 

Virgil gave a small nod, pulling back slightly from Patton’s embrace, breaths still tiny, hiccuping sobs. “Yeah. Uh, thanks, you guys for...yeah. Thank you.” 

“No need to thank us for stating the truth,” Logan said. “However, based on your reaction tonight, and the fact that this is not the first time something like this has happened, the logical conclusion is that this mindset is not a new occurrence. Am I correct?” 

Patton thought about the broken mug, how terrified Virgil had looked when he’d thought they were upset with him, how he’d practically begged Roman to believe him when the prince had advanced. He thought about how tense Virgil would get whenever someone would raise their voice. 

It was becoming more and more of a struggle not to start crying again. 

“I guess so,” Virgil murmured, cheeks flushed red. “I mean, I’m literally Anxiety. I’ve had some, uh, bad experiences, I guess.” 

“Kiddo--” 

“No, no it’s fine!” Patton didn’t miss how tightly Virgil was squeezing Roman’s hand now. “It’s my fault, it’s...I should have said something. I should’ve...warned you guys, and I’m r-really sorry.” 

Roman leaned forward, brow pinched. “Warned us?” 

“About all of this,” Virgil said, like it was something obvious. “I’m not...easy to deal with. You guys know that already but it’s not just my function, it’s...it’s just me. I’m difficult and I-I don’t know how to fix it and I’m really s--” 

“But we don’t want you to fix it,” Patton exclaimed before Virgil could apologize again. “We care about you, kiddo! Everyone’s gonna have flaws and setbacks. All of us, but that’s why you have family!” 

“We do want you to feel safe here,” Logan added. “We’re all willing to assist you in feeling more comfortable. But we have no desire to change or fix you. I for one, have quite enjoyed getting to know you properly.” 

Patton and Logan agreed without hesitation, beaming when Virgil hesitantly met each of their gazes. He looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears again, but this time it would be from something much different than fear and devastation. 

“Oh,” he said, small but hopeful. “I...ok. Uh, same. To the...to the getting to know you guys thing. It’s been...it’s been really good.” 

Patton smiled, giving Virgil one last squeeze before scooting back, clapping his hands together. 

“I’m glad, kiddo,” he said. “You still up for dinner? Logan might even let us have ice cream for dessert!” 

“Uh, yeah,” Virgil managed, Roman leading him to his feet while Logan rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “I-I’m good.” 

“Excellent!” Roman was already making his way back to the kitchen. “I’ll clean up the glass and then we can continue!” 

“I can help if you--”

“Nonsense!” Roman disappeared  around the corner, already belting another Disney song, and Patton carefully took Virgil’s hands in his. 

He was still a bit wary, but Patton could practically see him fighting against it, battling every instinct screaming at him to pull away, isolate himself out of self defense. 

But he was still here. Still learning to love. 

Patton couldn’t be more proud. 

“Come on,” he said, pulling him towards the stairs. “No bare feet tonight, just to be safe. Don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow some of my fuzzy socks.” 

[randomrosewrites]

TSOYS DRAFTS

Here are the remaining drafts I wrote for the story. Excuse the grammar and spelling mistakes. Thank you for reading. 

Chapter 23 draft:

You’re in darkness. 

There’s sweat covering the back of your neck, rolling uncomfortably down your spine in slow droplets.

The dark is horrible, suffocating. There’s no escape from it. An ache buzzes through you, making you want to squirm in place. And everywhere you turn, to try and ease the feeling, an electric buzz follows. 

There’s a chatter. Like the gnashing and tapping of teeth. You shudder. Your body feels sick. Decaying, self-destructing, rejecting itself.

The oxygen flowing to your body slows. Then you can’t breathe. You panic, inhaling deeply, but it’s never enough. 

The buzz nears. And your heart spikes at the familiar sound of well polished dress shoes against the floor. Your eyes aren’t open, but you can feel him coming closer, his TV-face glowing in the sea of dark, inching forward slowly. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You squirm, unable to move, to open your eyes, to scream, as the harsh light burns into your eyelids, searing the nerves in them. Every part of you wants to run away - but you can’t. 

His hands grip you, nails digging into your skin and then there’s an awful stabbing sensation in your chest. 

 You jolt awake, eyes flying open. You damn nearly fall out of bed with your panic, catching yourself at the last second. You blink around at your bedroom, remembering where you are.

Knitted blankets. Wood floors. Moonlight streaming through the windows. The soft snore of a raven. You’re in Gluttony, not Pride. 

It was only a dream. 

You hang your head in your hands, letting the terror seap from your bones. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. Sweat covers you like an uncomfortable blanket and your breathing is uneven. You gulp down deep breaths, fisting the locks of your hair. 

A dream…

You gulp down the glass of water by your bedside with shaky hands, light a candle by your bedside to illuminate your room. The dark seems too oppressive, scary. You pull down your sleeve, looking at the grey lines of the bonding mark. 

It’s not the dark you fear, it’s what in the dark that you-

“Oh shut up,” you growl to yourself. You roll your sleeve back up, laying down and pulling the blankets up to your nose. You watch the dripping wax until your eyes ache and the sun rises, eventually falling asleep once the threat of monsters in the dark is over.

 Knock knock knock.

Your eyes crack open at the sound of a sharp knocking at your door. You curl over, trying to sleep again, but the noise persists a second later. 

Knock knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

Finally, after you know the thing won’t give up, you throw the sheets off of you. Grumbling profanities, you pad your way to the door, undoing the deadbolt and swinging it open. 

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets as Alastor stands there, bright smile on his face. 

“Good morning, neighbor!” he chirps.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap, voice hoarse from sleep.

“To wish you a good morning.”

“Ok? And?”

“It’s the start of the day! And there’s so much we have yet to do.”

“I don’t wanna do anything with you.” 

“Someone’s gotten off on the wrong side of the bed today! Did we not get enough sleep?”

“Alright - Goodbye.” 

You slam the door but Alastor sticks his foot in the doorway at the last second.  

“AH ah ah, we can’t have that! It’s a beautiful day, with so much to do!”

“Ok, so go off and do it by yourself.”

“But I’m quite interested in this place, you see.”

You sigh and rub your eyes. Unfortunately, you know much about Alastor to know that he won’t give up on something he truly wants. 

��Alright, alright. Hand around or something, I don’t…” you’re interrupted by a large yawn. “I don’t care. I’m gonna take a bath.”

“Don’t break anything or I’ll roast your ass.”

“Frightening. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Barely keeping a scowl off of your face, you close the door shut behind you. 

---

You mull over the days events in the cool pool of the river, thinking about the nightmare you had the night before.

The nightmare you had is fresh in your mind. The awful feelings and past you have return to you. 

You sit in the stream, allowing the cool water of the river to wash over your body. You close your eyes, breathing deeply through your nose to allow the stresses to fall away from your body. 

Your thoughts return to the nuisance waiting for you back at home. How he’s now taken an interest in your life. 

Ugh.  

You rinse the suds out of your eyes, get changed, and walk back to the house.

You open the door and Alastor is sitting in the recliner to your living room. 

“Welcome back.”

It would be polite, if not for the fact that this is your house. 

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the morning. At least I’m trying to; you really have nothing in the fridge to eat.”

“This isn’t a hotel," you say, moving over and collecting your bow from the corner. “You can’t just take what you want - Feet off the table.” you tap his shoe, and he kicks his feet onto the floor.

“Where are you going?” he asks. 

“Out. Hunting.” you don’t ask him to come.

“I’ll accompany you. It’s been a while since I last went - I reckon I could teach you a thing or two.” 

“Do whatever you want. Just don’t scare off the game.”

_

“God, will you just be quiet?!” 

Alastor grins. “I’m afraid not m’dear, that’s against my natural programming.”

Furious, frustrated, you chuck an arrow at his head. He catches it easily between his fingers, but his pupils dilate into slits, predatorily honing in on the threat.  

“Ohh…” he chuckles. You can feel the cloud of static wrapping around you. “If you’re going to attack me, you're going to have to try harder than that.”

Despite what he says, there’s a tone to his voice that pushes through the fear you feel. He seems taunting. 

You lick your lips, stringing another arrow into your bow. Alastor’s pupils widen dangerously. “Is this what you want? A little one on one?”

“Am I that obvious?”

‘You’re practically salivating.”

“You go first-” he barely gets the word out before you let your arrow fly. He manages to grip the arrow in his hand, an inch in front of his face. 

“Oh ho!” he dodges the second one your shoot, spinning his microphone into his hands on the third. “You’ve improved!”

Have you actually fought Alastor before? There was wonderland, sure, but never something so one on one.

“Hello there!” you yelp, jumping high in the tree to sneak up on him, bust Alastor is one step ahead. He side-steps you and you crash to the ground. Alastor’s foot presses into your back a second later.

“Seems I’ve bested you.”

“Don’t talk as if this is over.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You underestimate me.” The bow poofs into your hands. Alastor takes an alarming step back as it morphs into a spear, but instead of using it, you take the moment to sweep his legs out from underneath him, sending him falling flat on his back. 

You kick to your feet, holding the spear to his throat.

You both stay still.

“Well,” Alastor wheezes, grinning up at you. His monocle is skewed off place on his face. “You are a very talented fighter.”

“Not talent,” You take a step back, offering the handle to Alastor. “Experience.”

He, to your surprise, takes it, getting to his feet with an unearthly snap of his bones.

“Thank you very much, that was quite brilliant! 

He’s like a dog needing to be let out on a walk, you think amusingly.

---

Three hours later, after more productive hunting session, the two of your return back home. You carrying most of the game, and Alastor ogling at you doing so.

You return back to your home, but to your dismay, Alastor hasn’t left. Instead, he just hovers over the counter, watching you work around your kitchen. Like a fly you can’t get rid of. 

“What?” you ask after he’s been staring at you for the past 5 minutes. 

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You put down your carving knife. “Am I now?”

“Yes,” Alastor unpops the buttons on his suit. “Give me that knife there, I’ll show you.”

Hesitant, but willing, you flip the handle towards Alastor. He rolls up his sleeves - exposing the dark, black markings that run up from underneath his gloves and up his forearms - and takes the knife.

“I always worked with deer, but I suppose rabbits will do,” Alastor explains, expertly running the knife through the meat. “Now, first rule, you want to cut the legs free, it makes things easier...”

You sit back and watch him work, carefully taking note as he parries the blade of silver through the skin like he’s cutting through butter. His hands work masterfully to prepare the meat, slicing off this and that. 

“You’re very good at this,”

“Oh this is nothing, but the butcher down on main street? Oh boy! He was the swiftest cutter on the Mississippi river!” Alastor remises happily. “Of course, I had to learn how to butcher, both because as a cook, and because of my own hobbies…”

That reminds you of a question you’ve always wanted to ask. “Hey Alastor, can I ask you something?”

“Fire away, dear.”

“Are you a cannibal?”

The knife pauses, but only for a brief moment. “Yes.”

Oh. 

“Huh. I thought so.”

He laughs, “That’s a very laid back response, my dear, are you not afraid?”

“Kind of,” you rest your hand in your palm. “You’re an overlord.  Nah, so long as you don’t try to take a bite out of me we’re good.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it.”

You don’t have enough energy to pretend to be surprised. 

Instead, you settle on. “Don’t call me dear, by the way. I’m not your dear.” 

 “Right you are! You’re not even a deer, you’re a raccoon. You’re a raccoon!” his eyes britten suddenly, like he just thought of the most wonderful idea. “A kit!”

The term for a baby raccoon. You already see the delight gleam in his eyes. “No. Do not-“

“Alrightly, little Kit of mine, now that we’ve finished chopping-”

 “No!”

---

 The damned name stuck.

“Darling Kit,”

“Kit could you get me-“

“Kit! I’m hungry!”

In retaliation you began to call Alastor different renditions of his name.

The first time you used ‘Alistair’ he had raised his eyebrow slightly, but brushed it off. But he quickly caught onto what you were doing.

“It’s not stair, its store. Alastor.”

“I dunno. I think ‘stair’ sounds better.”

 “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you.”

You reached over him, grabbing a carrot to shred. “I’m just balancing the scales of justice.” 

---

“Here, take a sip.” He holds a spoon out to you. You reach to take it, but he just pulls away. You narrow your eyes.

“You’re not spoon feeding me.”

“Come on,” he teases, waggling the spoon carefully. “Say ‘ahhh’!”

Reluctantly, you open your mouth and allow him to spoon the helping of soup into your mouth. He pulls the spoon away and you swallow.

“So?” he asks with a knowing smirk on his face.

“That’s the best soup I’ve ever tasted.” 

Return to pentagram City arc: 

“You lied to me,” your voice trembles, your whole body is shaking.

“Kit, my dear, darling-”

“Don’t call me that!” you scream, your voice rises. Your whole body feels like it’s freezing and on fire at the same time. “You lied to me!”

“I thought you knew the deal was still in place.”

“Well, I didn’t! I didn’t Al, you certainly did but you never told me!” your breath catches in your throat. “You knew! You knew but you never spoke about it out loud!”

Everything. Him showing up, the gifts, the dance, everything you thought up to this point has been a lie.

He’s never wanted you. He’s only wanted what you could do for him.

Why why why why did he do this?

“Why didn’t you just tell me. Why did you pretend to care about me as a person?”

“I- I did.” he tries to get closer, you bare your teeth at him, growling. “Darling - I - I admit, my motives at first were to the benefit of the war, but-”

“You’re no different than him.” you spit.

He frowns. “That’s not true.”

“How!?” “You- you go behind my back, making me feel good - oh my dear, let’s go to this store! - oh, have I ever taught you about my hunting days. Gods, damn you to Hell, Alastor!”

---

You level him with a hard stare. Your chest hurts, like someone has carved out your very soul from your body. 

“I’m going back home. Don’t follow me. Don’t try to talk to me. Don’t visit my place.” You turn letting the bite of the wind whip against your face. “I never want to see your face ever again.”

You turn and walk, slipping away into the night. You hope beyond all hope, if Alastor does have a heart of some kind, it’s just as broken and hallow as your is. 

[theshipsfirstmate]

Agents of SHIELD Fic: All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had

post-SHIELD 7x06 and also post-Agent Carter season 2. peggysous -> daisysous.

doing my best to tie up the loose ends that get Daniel from Peggy to Daisy, because I, like many others, could not have imagined shipping him with anyone else and then the last few eps of SHIELD have taken a sledgehammer to my feelings. so, just like this ship, idk where this came from, but here it is.

Title from “Something in Common” by Dawes.

All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had (AO3 - wc: 3218)

After Peggy went back to New York, Daniel told himself to take it easy.

And he tried, he really did. He even said it in his head, sometimes, the way Jack had: “Take it easy, Danny boy.” The wise-cracking agent had never stopped teasing him, even after they had become something resembling friends. But he was gone now too, left behind in a past that didn’t feel as distant as it should.

They’d had all of one day together, he and Peg, before everything went to hell. She had kissed him -- in his office, of all places -- and he had reveled in it for a few blissful moments before sending her away with a matching grin on her face, so he could pick her up later that evening for a proper date.

He’d planned on Musso and Frank -- had been carrying around the image in his mind for longer than he’d admit to anyone -- but after he picked her up and saw that mischievous flash in her eyes, he’d called an audible, turning the car south on Western, guessing she’d be up for something a little more adventurous. He was right, she was taken with El Coyote from the moment they walked in, wide-eyed and grinning at everything from the margarita glasses to the friendly waitress who’d winked and called him “Blanquito.”

Looking back at it now, he’s almost glad he doesn’t remember too many more of the details. He doesn’t remember what they ordered or exactly how long they’d sat and talked in that booth. He just remembers the warmth of her eyes, her hand in his across the table, the way she seemed more relaxed than he’d ever known her to be. Those were the things to hold onto.

He’d dropped her off with a gentlemanly kiss at her front door -- and a less-than-gentlemanly follow-up when she’d tried to convince him to come in for coffee. His only regret now was not taking her up on the offer. Not so much for the obvious reason, just to give them a few more easy hours before it all came crashing down.

Because when Daniel returned to his own front door that night, there was a patrolman — one of the new guys, whose name he had to read off his badge in the dim porch light — sitting on the stoop, waiting for him. 

“Thompson’s gone,” the kid said. “Never made it on the plane. Signs of a struggle in his room. And a lot of blood.”

The next week was non-stop, chaos and panic and a wild goose chase that had led them everywhere but to Jack. A sinister cloud hung over the entire office, and the spectral whispers of the one name no one wanted to speak aloud echoed in the desperate silences. He and Peggy barely had a chance to look at each other, let alone talk about anything but the latest scraps of evidence, and when it was all over, well, there was no relief there, either.

He’s never gotten used to funerals, and having a hand to hold this time didn’t make it that much easier, not with the weight of failure pressing down on them both.

Thompson had fought hard, that much was clear when they’d finally found him. But it wasn’t enough. That was Daniel’s biggest fear every time he thought about the facts they had been able to gather, every time the unspeakable name echoed in the confines of his restless brain. Cut off one head, and two more take its place -- would they ever be enough to fight it? Would it ever be easier?

__________________

“You know it truly is nothing to do with you, don’t you?” Peggy had asked him, eyes turned down to the table between them, to the cups of coffee untouched and growing cold. This time, Daniel didn’t reach out for her hand. He listened to the buzz of the planes taking off at the Lockheed Air Terminal down the road, and wished it were enough to drown out the whole day entirely.

“Peg, you don’t have to do that,” he’d muttered, feeling childish. “Spare me the pity, I-”

“Daniel,” she’d interrupted, in that tone that left no room for questions. “I’ve never pitied you, and I certainly don’t intend to start now.”

He stared back, silent. That was the problem, you see, with the goodness of a heart like hers. There was no artifice, no way to crack back in a moment like this one. As miserable as it was, he was going to have to sit here and take it.

“Please,” she’d continued, softer, still barely looking at him. “I want to say it. I need you to know.”

He’d huffed out a breath through his nose and aimlessly fiddled with the tiny pitcher of milk. “OK.”

“I want to say…” she had started, stopped and gathered herself, then started again. “I want to tell you that you deserve so much more than what I can give you.”

He’d hated hearing the cliche, even as he weighed its truth. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he deserved, but hadn’t he known it would be this way from the start? Hadn’t a part of him always worried that there wouldn’t be room in her heart for the kind of life he wanted to share? 

“It’s not for the reason you think,” she’d insisted, before he could come up with something to say in response. “I promised myself….When Steve died, I promised myself I would keep up the fight.”

She hardly ever said his name aloud. It didn’t ruffle Daniel as much as he expected, but it did make him speak up.

“I’m in it with you, Peg. I hope at least you know that.”

She’d nodded, and then she’d finally looked up -- and he immediately wished to God she hadn’t. Because there, behind the sheen of barely-restrained tears, was their ending.

“All we can do is our best,” she told him, not for the first time. “And I think we both know this fight is going to take the best we have.” 

He nodded and swallowed against the lump in his throat he was starting to worry might be permanent. 

“But this... It’s too much for me, Daniel. I can’t lose you too.”

A bitter part of his brain pointed out that it was ironic, to say that as she walked away. But he tamped that down, and told her the only truth he could find that felt like it wouldn’t make things worse.

“I’ll miss you, Peg.”

She had reached out then, squeezed his hand fast and tight, telling him the same before swiping beneath her eyes. And then, she was gone.

Easy.

__________________

Daniel had tried, he really had. In his brief moments of free time as they watched the Hydra trail dry up hopelessly once again, he went on a handful of absolutely mediocre dates with the sunny blonde who worked the front desk at the local library and the brunette waitress who left her number on his receipt at the diner. He even let the guys at the office set him up once with a busty redhead who was so forward he spent the next week trying to suss out whether or not they’d paid her.

But there wasn’t anything there. There wasn’t anything anywhere, it seemed. With every interested woman he met -- and there were a few, he didn’t mind saying -- it was the same as it had been with Violet. Perfectly fine, perfectly nice, perfectly room temperature. In another lifetime, maybe he could have convinced himself that’s what it was supposed to feel like. But not now. 

And then one day, he walked into his office on a top-secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base, and met a girl from the future.

There was something about her, right from the beginning. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, and he saw something familiar in the mischievous glint in her eye — he’d been able to clock her CIA lie on its face, though it was just one part of a larger, much more confusing puzzle.

At first, he thought his reaction to her was just part of the chaos -- excess adrenaline at the prospect of seeing Peggy unexpectedly and the frantic and unexplainable events that followed. But then it didn’t go away.

She kept surprising him, that was familiar too. Comforting, almost, in a bizarre, backwards kind of way. She saved his life on the train — he’s always had extra respect for a woman who could throw a good punch. And he hadn’t missed the shadow that crossed her face when he mentioned all the things that Hydra had taken from him. There was even more to uncover, he was sure of it. Even finally learning her first name, Daisy, had him furrowing his brow at the dichotomy.

But there was hardly time to dwell on it. He’d expected to drive out of that futuristic aircraft and never see her, or any of her compatriots, ever again. He’d deliver his package to Stark, go home to an empty house, and wake up tomorrow to throw himself back into the work.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the familiar eagle on the wall, and Agent Coulson was telling him he was dead. Like it was that easy.

__________________

He tried to throw himself into the fight immediately — he’s always been aware of the liability of dead weight and there wasn’t any time to stumble around and gather his bearings if he was going to be useful in the team’s mission to stop the Chronicoms.

Still, he would catch Daisy watching him, warily, like a timer on a bomb. She teased him in the clothing store, elbowing him playfully when he stopped dead at the “modern” 1970s fashions, but when he met her eyes, there was something more insistent looking back at him. It was like she was asking him a question neither of them could put into words, sizing up whether or not he was going to run, or stay, or fit, or break, or...something.

He tried his best to not to give her more to worry about. So he wouldn’t be the one to extract Hydra from S.H.I.E.L.D. in the ‘50s -- as it turned out, there were plenty of other ways to save the world. That was the core of the mission he’d signed up for from the start, and he felt more at ease the more he realized this was a team devoted to the same cause.

But he wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that made him step up behind her in that underground bar and call her “sweetheart” -- maybe the same misguided sense of chivalry that got him a dressing down after he made Krzeminski apologize to Peggy in the briefing room back in New York. Mercifully, Daisy had gone along with his ruse, surprising him again with a palm pressed to his chest and a conspiratorial grin in his direction. 

And he hoped it was duty again, not the memory of that smile, that made him insist on accompanying her to hack into the base. After a confrontation with the scruffy kid with the dark circles under his eyes, he was more aware than ever that this team was just barely more adjusted to their circumstances than he was. But that still didn’t quite explain his growing desire to stay at Daisy’s side. 

What he was really looking for, if he’s honest, was a bit of solid ground. What he was wondering was if the feeling in his chest would turn out to be fleeting, if the quaking he’d felt when she touched him was because of her powers — or if it was something else entirely.

Because it seemed like something he never felt with Violet or the librarian or any of the rest. It seemed like it might be something he’s only felt once before. And it’s just his luck that it comes wrapped up in even more danger.

He tagged along just the same, watching her back and trying to learn on his feet about all the things she could do in addition to making the earth shake. She could break into a computer network he can’t even begin to comprehend, she could snap a crystal clear picture of him on that thin screen she said was a telephone, she could quirk an eyebrow at him and make him forget, just for a moment, that his life had descended once again into supernatural chaos.

“You look OK for a guy who just aged 20 years.” She teased him a second time as he marveled at the photo, and his stomach flipped all the way over to melancholy. But he wasn’t totally honest about why.

His heart ached at the thought of Peggy getting the news of his “death,” but the biggest goodbye of all, Daniel had realized, was to the man he used to be. However lonely and lukewarm he thought his life had been, he hadn’t been prepared to lose it so suddenly. There was possibility there, and promise to mourn, and the uncertainty about what lay ahead now had given him a rose-colored rearview mirror to look back at all he had left behind.

But when he told Daisy that this might be his last stop, she had simply turned back to her computer, assuring him their current dilemma was just a minor setback -- “Without us, it’s way worse,” she said.

She said it like she’d already accepted him as part of the team, like another thing she knew that he didn’t was that he hadn’t lost himself to the ether of time travel. She said it like he belonged.

It made the decision seem easy enough.

__________________

When the Malick kid’s goons bring her back, when he sees her limp and bloodied, slumped on the floor beside him, he has another flash to his past -- Peggy lying prone, impaled on a mean-looking length of rebar. He had learned that night how strong she really was. Not just because she had survived, but because she had let him see her at her weakest and most terrified, had let him haul her into his arms and onto his couch and into focus for his fiancee, who he knew would be able to see right through it all. 

He had blown up his entire life just for the weak, grateful smile they shared when they realized she was going to be OK. And it had been worth it.

Daisy doesn’t seem the type to let someone stroke her hair either, but Daniel tries to stop himself from drawing any more parallels right then and there. He keeps checking her pulse point like an excuse, and hopes it’s a fair trade-off that he agrees to tell her the story of his rescue. 

He doesn’t like to think about Stevens much, about the way he’s carried the potential of that pesky man's life with him every day since he woke up on that stretcher. That’s what you do when someone dies for you. You have to live for them.

That makes him think of Peggy again -- and then, unbidden, of Steve Rogers. He remembers the stories they used to tell about what Captain America was like before the serum: skinny, frail, half a dozen 4F rejections under various pseudonyms. He thinks of that kid, plucked from the life he was supposed to live and thrust onto a pedestal that must have felt completely untenable at times -- given muscle and then immediately handed the weight of the world.

And now there’s Daisy, with these powers. The kind of strength good men would covet and evil men would kill for. And like him, she’s left behind whatever life she had in order to fight her way through space and time and try to save humanity.

Peggy was a woman who ran headfirst into a storm without giving so much as a thought to an umbrella. Daisy, he’s learning, is the storm itself.

So he talks to her, and he keeps talking. He tells her things he’s never told another living person. In fairness, he thinks, he’s technically known her almost 20 years.

He tells her about survival, certain she already knows. He tells her about warfare, a different type than she’s seen, but with a common enemy. He tells her to fight -- and when she shows him the shard of glass she’s snuck back to him in a bloody palm, he knows the way his heart thuds could be just as dangerous as the psychopath in the other room.

Daniel’s always been good at waiting for his moment, and mercifully, it comes not long after Daisy slips completely into unconsciousness. He shifts away from her on the dirty floor to avoid risking further injury, and he readies himself like he had in the trenches.

When the time comes, he fights, just like he knows Stevens must have fought to get him to safety. They catch a lucky break when the earth-rattling powers prove to be too much for Malick to handle, and he carries her back to the ship, leg aching all the way, remembering the stern nurse in the field hospital who had looked down her glasses at him every time he’d complained about the throbbing.

“It’s the beat of your heart, soldier, remember that,” she had snipped as she doled out his meds. “If nothing else, it means you’re still alive.”

The team meets him at the door to help Daisy into their med bay, and when Agent Simmons mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “Not again,” something else twists inside Daniel’s chest. Shrugging off his own first aid until she’s been attended to, he takes a seat by the door to stay present but out of the way. Maybe some small part of him hopes that when she wakes, he’ll be a familiar face.

If he’s honest, he’s never thought about living to see the end of the 20th century, never even considered it. He was a S.H.I.E.L.D. director with war injuries and more than his fair share of close calls, it would have taken nothing short of a miracle. But he doesn’t think twice when the scruffy kid -- Deke, he remembers this time -- tells them they’re about to jump again. He's not sure when he changed his mind, but it’s been changed, nonetheless. 

“I’m where I need to be,” he says, as the soft beeps of Daisy’s monitor assure him that if nothing else, she’s still alive.

Easy never felt quite right, anyway.

[changingourdestiny]

Nightlight Part 1: Endless Night

Summary: 

Fireteam Paralight awake to the Last City being plunged into darkness with the sun nowhere in sight. Ikora and Osiris have no doubt about it being the Vex's doing but with no answers on how to fix it, they turn to unlikely allies for them but familiar allies to Paralight: Mithrax and Tif of House Light.

Next Part: Here

“I know I said to ‘party until the sun rises’…but this is NOT what I meant.”

Cayde and Fireteam Paralight all stood at the Helm’s front window at the endless night sky…at 11am. The sun hadn’t risen at all that morning with strange glitch-like wisps in the air. Rae let out a sigh, “Can…can someone pass me that cushion over there?”

“Oh, sure.” Crow picked up a nearby cushion resting on the war table and handed it to the Stasis Vanguard. “Thank you.” Rae calmly accepted the cushion and held it to her face before letting out a stressed and frustrated scream into the pillow. As her scream faded, Adam hesitantly spoke, “Are…are you ok, Rae?”

“My stress levels are PERFECTLY healthy, guys!” Rae said with a forced grin. “Uh huh…sure…” Blaze scooted away from Rae a bit as the sound of footsteps approached. Zavala and Ikora entered the Helm. “Thank you for coming on short notice.” Ikora began. “Figured we’d be called up here at some stage.” Blaze replied, “Usually when things take a turn for the crazy, we’re the ones that are called. And the sun being gone is kinda hard to miss.”

“Very true. With that said, allow me to deliver your briefing.” Ikora began, “As you saw, for the first time in humanity’s long and storied history, the sun did not rise. Osiris tells me it’s a Vex simulation that has plunged the City into an endless night. It seems they’ve found a way to harness our energy against us. And even in all his wisdom, Osiris can offer no solution.”

“To do something like this to the Last City…” Cayde muttered, “Whatever the Vex are planning, they’re confident enough to target our home turf.”

“That or they’re becoming desperate.” Zavala added. “The Vex rely on logic. Whatever their plan is, the chances of success for them are high enough for them to execute it.” Rae chimed in. “Rae’s right.” Ikora agreed, “I don’t know what will happen if we can’t break the Vex’s hold over the City. I do know that we must protect our people, no matter the cost.”

“Agreed.” Adam nodded. “So, what’s the plan? How’re we gonna pry the Vex’s robo-hands off the City?” Blaze asked. “The Vex are machines…” Ikora replied, “And no one understands machines better than the Eliksni. Osiris and I could only think of one we might turn to. And I believe you’re acquainted with him and one of his captains.”

“Wait…you mean…?” Rae perked up in realisation. Ikora nodded, “Mithrax, Kell of House Light. My spies report he claims to be among the last Sacred Splicers; those with the power to commune with machines. He may be our best and only hope.”

“I didn’t know he was a Splicer.” Rae muttered, “He never made it obvious during the times we met him and Tif never mentioned it either.”

“It makes sense that he would try to keep it hidden.” Crow replied, “House Dusk and the remnants of Salvation would find the abilities of Splicers useful against their enemies.”

“Hmm…fair point.” Rae said before turning back to Ikora, “Do we have any information on his location?”

“My Hidden report that both Mithrax and Tifawt were last seen on Europa, helping Variks evacuate Eliksni defectors.” Ikora explained, “Both the Vex and Eramis’s loyalists are down there hunting for survivors, shooting anything that moves. Be sure to shoot back. We need Mithrax alive if he’s to help us with our Vex problem.”

“Right.” Rae turned to her Fireteam, “You heard Ikora. Let’s hit the skies.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Fireteam Paralight hurried out of the Helm. Cayde went to follow but was stopped by Ikora. “No. You’re still in trouble for the last time you snuck out. Besides, we need all the help we can get for crowd control.”

Rae couldn’t help but feel sorry for Cayde as she heard his disappointed groan from down the hall.

~

“Oh, the Vex outside are frightful~ But the Light is so delightful~ Knock them down, blow-by-blow~ Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow~”

Blaze sang to herself as she shot down Vex after Vex with Firelight. “Nice Dawning carol.” Crow chuckled as he fired a round from Hawkmoon into a hobgoblin, “You should remember them for this year.”

“I’m already working on ‘Sainta Claus is coming to Tower’!”

Crow let out an amused snort at Blaze’s pun as Rae tuned into her comms, “Ikora, any luck on locating Mithrax?”

“You’re closing in on some residual signals. It could be Eliksni bound for House Light…or it could be more of Eramis’s loyalists.” Ikora replied. “I think I see an entrance in the ice.” Adam yelled from several feet away. “Let’s go say Velask.” Rae said as she slid down the ice into the hideout. The four Guardians landed with a faint clang onto the metal plating of the hideout. “Velask? It’s Fireteam Paralight. Is anyone here?” Rae called out before contacting Ikora again, “Empty. Looks like the Eliksni cleared out before the Vex showed up.”

“See if you can learn where they’re headed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Over here!”

Rae looked up to see Blaze by an Eliksni terminal with Crow typing away at it. “I think we found something. Some sort of looped audio recording.”

“I’ll patch it through to Ikora as well.” Crow added as he played the audio.

“-over their possessions. Trigger message repeat. This is Misraaks. To those who renounce the violence of House Salvation and seek refuge in the House of Light, I will be landing a Skiff near Asterion Abyss. Bring only what you need. We must prioritise survivors over their possessions. Trigger message repeat.”

“Asterion Abyss. That’s their rendezvous point.” Ikora began, “A single Skiff recently touched down near your position. It’s got to be Mithrax. Hurry, before he takes off.”

“Uhh…we should hurry but I don’t think he’ll be taking off.” Adam said as he stood near a cave opening looking over Asterion Abyss. In the middle of the ice and snow was a crashed ship with smoke emerging from it. “Oh no…we gotta hurry!” Rae exclaimed as she began to climb up the ice with the rest of the Fireteam not far behind. As soon as they were on smoother turf, the four Guardians summoned their Sparrows and began to speed across the snow towards the downed Skiff. “Mithrax sure is wrapped up in dangerous business, huh?” Blaze muttered. “It’s a bad time to ask for a favour, true.” Ikora replied, “But he and his House of Light still worship the Traveller. And due to your previous interactions with him and Tifawt, he’ll trust you more than the rest of us.”

“I just hope we’re not too late.” Rae sighed, “The second we get there, we secure the crash site and help any Eliksni that might have survived.”

“Crow and I can handle any Vex or Salvationists that are around while you and Adam can protect and heal survivors.” Blaze added.

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s move!”

Upon arriving at the downed Skiff, all that remained was the smouldering wreckage, Eliksni bodies, and Vex swarming the ship. Rae prepared to shoot at the Vex with Lumina when-

 “HUS NE, SHER BA!!!”

A hobgoblin that was standing atop the wreckage was suddenly shoved off by an Eliksni captain from behind with two goblins that were standing either side of it getting sliced by arc blades. The captain wore purple, blue and grey armour with the usual furry mantle at the back and the back spikes. The armour looked slightly different to a standard captain’s, mainly the boots and gloves. That’s when Rae realised it. Only one set of arms. Short for a captain. And the last piece of evidence came when the captain punched a harpy with a Stasis-covered fist.

“Tif!” Rae exclaimed with a smile. As the last Vex fell, the captain spun around at Rae’s yell, only seeming to notice the Guardians’ presence just then. “Paralight!” The familiar voice of Tif came from behind the captain-esque helmet of the Titan. Tif ran up to Rae and hugged her, lifting the Warlock off the ground slightly as they did so, “Oh my Traveller, your timing couldn’t be better! We’re trying to evacuate Salvation defectors but the Vex-”

“We know. We actually came here looking for you and Mithrax.” Rae explained. “Wait. Really?” Tif cocked their head to the side before shaking it, “There’s no time to wonder. Misraaks is keeping the refugees safe but I don’t know for how much longer they’ll last. Please hurry!”

“Lead the way.” Rae nodded. “Berhane?” Tif began. “Pike is at the ready!” Berhane chirped as a Pike appeared beside the Titan. “Follow me!” Tif yelled as they hopped on and sped across the icy tundra, Rae and co. in tow.

Visibility decreased slightly as an icy wind blew in. “We should be close.” Tif yelled as they came to a stop, “Misraakskel, are you there? Paralight are here!” As Tif called out, Mithrax emerged from a nearby cave. He wore different attire compared to the last time Rae had met up with them. His upper right arm was heavily mechanised, and he wore a grey and purple helm. “Guardians, I find you in the Light.” Mithrax greeted, “And on your signal…Ikora Rey?”

“Mithrax-kell, it is an honour. We have been searching for you for a long time.” Ikora greeted from the comms. “This is known. You are not the only one with hidden eyes.” Mithrax nodded, “Many enemies pursue my House of Light. We did not wish to be found.”

“Then times are desperate for us all.” Rae chimed in, “The Vanguard need your help.”

“Oh yeah…the Vex have been messing with the City, right?” Tif began. “You know about that?” Blaze asked with surprise. “Yes. Vex systems pulse with talk of the City’s Endless Night…but my people demand much protection.” Mithrax explained, “If Paralight could assist Tif and I in blinding the Vex here, we can speak more without risking bloodshed.”

“Blinding the Vex…we’ll do whatever you need, Mithrax-kell.” Rae nodded. Mithrax motioned for the Guardians to follow as he ran to a large clearing in the ice. He held out his mechanical arm that began to glow as a sudden pulse of Vex energy opened up a hole in the ice, “I have opened the door for you, Guardian. Will you walk the path of the Sacred Splicer?”

The four Guardians glanced at each other before nodding. “We’re ready.” Rae replied. “You might wanna hold onto your tummies!” Tif suggested, “I did this once and it gets weird. WHOOHOO!!!” Tif jumped cannonball-style into the hole with Fireteam Paralight jumping in after them. In a flash of light, the Guardians found themselves slowly descending onto a series of teal, geometric platforms in a vast purple void filled with geometric creations emerging from below. “Is this…some sort of Vex simulation?” Rae asked as they touched down. “The path before you is no illusion.” Mithrax explained through the comms, “You venture through the Vex domain itself, where the machines guard their most precious secrets. I will clear the way. Tifawt, can I count on you to guide the Guardians?”

“Yes, Misraakskel!” Tif responded with a smile.

“Very well. Good luck, Guardians.”

Rae looked out at the vast space before her and sighed, “Alright. Let’s start the crazy.”

To Be Continued…