#on the other hand i think it’s nice to imagine them adopting multiple kids

[amongthezinnias]

So do yall think Wang Mu is an only child?

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

[ramzawrites]

Hello! May i suggest a drabble?

Philza teaching y/n how to fly/ use their wings; Just thought i'd be a funny enough idea picturing these massive wings on a child and having dadza teaching them. 🌿

-Much love, anon.

Reader and Philza - Flying Lessons

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Philza, Tommyinnit, Tubbo

Warnings: cursing

Series: a request from a nice anon :D

Summary: Philza caught Y/N once again in trouble with Tommy and Tubbo and after breaking that little dispute up Y/N surprised him with the question “Can you teach me how to fly?” They sure are lucky that Philza has a weakspot for the fellow winged hybrid.

Words count: 2040

Authors Note: I love Dadza so much and I love writing for him so thank you so much for the request :D

There was a crash followed by a loud scream and curses. All accompanied by laughter from multiple people.

Now, the SMP was chaotic and Phil was slowly getting used to it but this commotion somehow piqued his interest enough that he was curious to see what had happened. He dropped the equipment he was working on in a random chest and ran towards his front door.

The crash and the voices sounded pretty loud so it didn’t surprise him at all when he found a group of people in the middle of the town.

He found Tommy, Y/N and Tubbo. The usual troublemakers.

Tommy was laying on the ground, flat on his back. His hand outstretched and pointing at Y/N who was giggling to themself as Tommy cursed them out, calling them a “brat” and the like which Philza found quite ironic.

Tubbo stood close by, clutching his stomach as he continued laughing. Gasping for air whenever he had the chance. Tears brimming in his eyes. Honestly he looked close to collapse. Hard to imagine that he was the president of this place.

Y/N on the other hand had their arms smugly in front of their chest. Their wings half closed but still sporting an impressive wingspan for their young age by the looks of it.

As Tommy finally decided to stand up, Philza made his way towards them as well “What happened?” He was already halfway to chuckling himself alone from Tubbo’s laughing, Tommy’s screaming and Y/N’s puffed up body language.

Exasperated Tommy turned to the winged man “It’s Y/N! I was talking to Tubbo, you know state secrets and all, and they just ambushed me!”

Philza couldn’t help but to raise one of his eyebrows at him “Ambushed? What do you mean ambushed?”

“They just-“ Tubbo begun talking, he was still laughing but he managed to calm down somewhat “They were just suddenly there! I was talking to Tommy and then I saw them gliding down in the corner of my eye and they straight up kicked him down. It was so funny, Philza!”

Tommy scoffed “They did that on purpose!”

At this exclamation Y/N ran around behind Philza and hid behind his legs. Standing between Phil’s body and his wings. Grabbing onto his shirt and peeking their head out at the blonde “Actually it was a mistake! I didn’t mean to!”

Almost instinctively Philza opened up his wing so they could fit in and put his hand on their head “What happened, Y/N?”

It took a moment before they answered “I wanted to learn how to fly…”

They pulled their gaze back up from the ground and instead threw an angry expression towards Tommy “So, it really wasn’t my fault! You were just in my way!”

“Oh you little-“ Tommy begun but Philza interrupted him.

“Hey, drop it. They said they didn’t mean to, so they didn’t mean to. Besides aren’t you too busy as Vice President to argue with a child? Weren’t you telling me that you were talking about state secrets with Tubbo there?”

Tubbo nodded “Yeah come on big man! They did apologize right after so let’s just get going.”

“Alright, you are lucky Philza is here or- or- I don’t know but something would have happened!” Tommy grumbled.

He then turned around and continued walking along. Tubbo waved Philza and Y/N goodbye only to follow his best friend.

Once they were out of ear shot Philza let out a sigh. Tommy was a troublesome, troublesome person. It wasn’t the first time he had come to Y/N’s aid like this. In fact whenever problems arose Y/N would run over to Philza and ask for help.

Philza took his hand off of Y/N and took a step back so he could look at them. Their wings now hugging their back like usual and instead of their self-assured expression they looked a bit sad.

“What’s wrong?”

“You were able to fly before L’Manburg blew up, right?”

He was a bit surprised by that question “Uh, yeah. My wings are too damaged now for me to be able to fly though.”

While Y/N still looked worried, a bit of determination broke through “Could you teach me? Teach me how to fly? There is no one else here who could!”

Y/N was right. Sure, they could probably learn how to fly on their own over time but it didn’t surprise him that they would approach him for it. He himself had to learn how to fly alone and would have really appreciated someone else to help him.

“Well before I can say anything, can you open up your wings for me? Show me exactly how big they are.”

This seemed to brighten up Y/N’s mood and they happily obliged. Their wings swinging open and showing off how huge they actually have gotten. It took Phil a long while until his wings were big and strong enough to carry his weight but for Y/N it seemed to be different.

They were pretty young but their wings were already so big that it took him aback for a moment.

He nodded “Oh wow, okay. Honestly I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to fly with these. They look strong enough to hold you.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide “You think so? You will help me?”

“Yeah, I will you little gremlin. Let’s get somewhere else with more space and preferably high up.”

There he was. Agreeing to help Y/N without even really thinking about it. They were seriously lucky that Philza had grown to have a bit of a soft spot for them. So much so that the joke was going around that Philza has adopted another child once again since he just can’t help himself.

Which was very much warranted seeing how they basically have moved in with Phil at this point. He didn’t feel comfortable with the though that this young child lived on their own.

Said kid was now happily skipping towards a clearing on a low mountain. It was semi easy accessible but a good place for them to practice without anyone else causing problem on purpose.

Honestly Phil wasn’t really sure how he felt about all this. Sure he was happy with how happy Y/N was but it also made him miss his own wings. His ability to just take off and fly to wherever he wanted to go.

Shoving these thoughts away Phil decided to pull his attention back to Y/N. Making sure they wouldn’t suddenly fall down the mountain somehow.

Once they arrived Phil fell down onto one of his knees and put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders “Before we start, you know how to glide and have done it before, correct? I saw you do it multiple times but I want to still ask you.”

They eagerly nodded, their mouth in a huge grin accompanied by a blush from the excitement.

“Okay good. That makes it easier. You see that rock formation over there? You think you could get up on there? When you are up there try jumping off. If you are too scared you can just glide down to me but try flapping your wings a bit. It should come natural. It did for me at least.”

He stood back up and opened up his own destroyed black wings. They still hurt a bit but it was bearable.

Y/N still seemed to be amazed though.

Phil begun moving his wings. Moving them in a way he was used to.

“You see how I move them? Can you do that too?”

The young kid didn’t wait long to do so. Opening up their wings to show off their full wingspan once again. Swinging their wings back and forth which created way more wind that pushed against Philza than he first imagined.

He laughed “Okay, I see you have no problems doing so. You think you can do what I asked you? You feel up for it? I’m gonna wait down here for you.”

“Yes!” they cheered and ran towards the stone formation. It looked like a ton of huge boulders that fell down the actual mountain, forming this pile.

Y/N closed their wings and climbed up the rocks unexpectantly fast.

While Philza barked orders at them in order to teach them in truth he had no real idea what he was doing. His best method on how to learn to fly was just to jump off somewhere and hope. That’s how he learned and that’s pretty much how he handled raising Wilbur now that he really thought about it.

“Hey! Hey! Make sure you look, okay? I want you to look, Dadza!”

Dadza? That was a first from them. Not that he minded it.

“I’m looking! I’m looking! Don’t worry!”

Y/N stood still and bowed down a little bit. Opening up their wings but they didn’t move. They just stood there, hands balled up into fists close to their chest. Y/N looked like they could move and jump any second but they just didn’t. Their feet where the only thing shuffling around.

“Y/N?”

“I can- I can do it but- but- I am scared!”

That was something he should have expected. They were about ten feet up in the air so it really was a normal reaction even though he was sure that Y/ N has been jumping off higher places to glide off.

But still this was kind of a different situation.

Philza thought for a moment “I will catch you?” He sounded unsure himself. Of course he would catch them in case anything happens but he wasn’t sure it would make them feel reassured. It was still high up. If he could he would probably stand next to them and fly off first to show them but alas this was not an option.

“Okay!” It somehow seemed to work.

Y/N was putting a lot of trust into Phil.

To support his claim Phil opened up his arms and put them in front of him. Nodding to Y/N as a sign that he was ready. He then moved his wings away from his body once again. Moving them just like when he demonstrated to Y/N how to move them beforehand.

With a deep breath Y/N followed his example. Beginning to move their own and once they felt like they had the rhythm down enough, they jumped.

Phil saw for a split second how panic spread across their face but they didn’t crash down. They stayed in the air. A bit unsteady but they effectively flew in the air.

“Dad look!” Y/N cheered only to drop a good feet down which made Phil jump in trying to run beneath them in hopes of catching them in case they do fall down but Y/N managed to stabilize themself again.

He let out a hearty laugh “I see! You are doing it!” Phil wasn’t sure if they noticed how they defaulted to calling him Dad or Dadza now. There was no need to correct them though. At least that’s how he felt about it.

Y/N begun flying in circles around him. Their expression showing off their glee only to suddenly grow pale “How- How do I land?”

“Shit I knew I forgot something. Just try to glide down for now like how you usually do!”

Y/N immediately angled their wings and stopped moving them. Now gliding down still in circles but Phill soon noticed that they still had quite the speed on them. So when they got down enough Phil sprinted in their way and tried catching them.

The end result of that was Y/N just crashing into Phil’s chest and pulling him off his feet. Both landing safely on the ground. Phil’s arms wrapped around their small body, protecting them from sustaining any wounds that they could get from grazing the ground.

While Phil’s heart was still pumping hard from fear, Y/N used the chance to also wrap their small arms around him “Thank you! I was flying! I was flying!”

Tired Phil nodded, mostly just glad Y/N seemed to be alright “Yeah, though you better practice. You weren’t even up there for a whole minute. I can’t always catch you like this. I’m too old for this, you little shit.”

[thewriterowl]

Thief!Din/Luke Headcanons

The snippets of Pedro’s commercial is killing me. No one has asked me yet and no one has uploaded their own (from what I have seen) so...tadaaaaa

I like to imagine Din started off pick-pocketing when he was younger, maybe even before the loss of his parents. He was very good with his slide of hand and very agile and silent. When he was once a normal, happy child he was eager to impress and energetic. He won all hide and seek challenges with his friends and could climb higher on a tree than many adults. His mother had multiple heart-attacks when she found her six year old trying to scale a building just because he’s gotta.

After their murders when he was seven, he was in the foster-care till he was near nine, jumping from one home to another with pretty horrible results. He was very jaded and had a tendency of running away by the time he landed in the Fett household. Jango wasn’t the most loving of fathers, but he was a good man who clearly cared about every child that came through his doors...and every child that he took care of were adopted. What Din discovers is that Jango is highly involved in an underground crime network and would welcome the kids (at a certain age, he’s a bad guy but he’s not a Bad Guy) and is curious about it. Jango, in return, is very impressed with Din’s skills and hones it along side his biological son Boba.

He learns how to fight, gets strong in parkour, picks up hacking easily, and can strategize better than the whole group. Jango has to put a bit more focus on the personality as Din is soured and a bit awkward, not too interested in being around people and had a temper. Jango teaches him how to flirt, manipulate, use words to distract people as good as his hands, how to earn information by tilting a chin rather than breaking a jaw, and how just the right expression make everyone gape over you or disappear. It takes Din a bit longer to get this...but when he does the world is not ready for him.

Din takes whatever he wants. Most all of it is taken to his father and brother who get to selling it and the money is split up. But there are some trinkets he has to keep for himself.

Din finds he really likes art and he likes things with a certain shine to them. Not necessarily literally, but that can be the case (his older brother teases that he’s like a cat) but something else. Some sort of exquisite, pure aura that he just wants to horde (then his brother teases that he’s a dragon; Din just throws something at him by this point). He doesn’t bother fighting it though, why should he? So he takes and takes and takes, never filling up.

Him and his family, and those part of this close underground crime clan, are hella wealthy. They are responsible for turning multiple billionaires into regular ol’ joes and enjoying their wealth for themselves (of course, Din says they’re donating a lot to anything to do with kids--the others agree). For most people on the street, Din seems like a regular guy who just jumps from job to job unable to keep anything steady. Handsome but a bit aloof and unapproachable. To some, he is this seductive dealer who appears in the art world, seducing a whole room out of thousands in a single night.

He doesn’t really care what either side thinks of him as long as no one can ever connect him to a hit. And so far none have.

Well, except for one. But his darling toddler son doesn’t really count. And Grogu is just happy living in their very nice home that had a collection room hidden away of the most treasured of Din’s prizes.

At least it was only one...until Luke.

Luke is probably an art historian or art-historian major who is working hard at a museum. Young but talented who is at the bottom of the totem pole wherever he is. But as long as he is close to art, he is happy.

Luke sees Din at an event and is smitten instantly. He stays hidden away, but kept a bashful eye on the mysterious man in the tux as he wandered through the crowds. He is painfully handsome and painfully Luke’s type (big, sexy, with facial hair...he’s not the pickiest) but Luke knows if he is seen talking, let alone flirting, with a guest he’ll be dis-allowed from attending another event. And these things are when special pieces were wheeled out so the rich could coo over (it drove Luke insane but by god they were gonna get these donations).

It’s when everyone has cleared off and Luke is left behind to finish cleaning or straightening up and he just gets lost looking at pieces and then he runs into the stranger.

Din was not expecting anyone to be behind and it certainly throws a wrench in his plans...for the better.

Luke shines more than any other piece he had stolen before.

Din acts like he was just hiding out to get a private tour and Luke believes him (and, yeah, the guy seems rich...and this has happened before so it’s believable) and Luke offers to give him one...just for a chance of a charitable donation and not because he was internally drooling over the man.

Luke takes him throughout the whole museum, telling Din all sorts of information and stories and just genuinely appearing in love with art that it does something to Din’s brain.

It’s hours of them talking and bickering and debating, with Luke laughing and Din just smiling over the beautiful man. 

Din decides, then, that he’ll be stealing Luke too.

[animeomegas]

What do you think about iruka’s alpha coming into the picture after he’s adopted naruto already?

@queenondeezmatatas : Omg monarch I was just thinking, let’s say that iruka adopted naruto when naruto was around 3 or 4, and then when his alpha comes around when naruto is around 12 like in the anime, and they start getting together etc. I can imagine iruka getting worried about letting this person into his family and everything that comes with that, so when naruto expresses his approval of this alpha that iruka really likes he’s just like🥺🥺 and imagine some time later, the first time naruto calls you his parent as well🥺🥺ugh I’m soft🥰🥰🥰

(Hmm, well let’s say Naruto was adopted when he was 8, because that’s when Iruka would have turned 18 and been able to adopt him legally, and now he’s just turned 12, but yes, this is a very interesting idea! Iruka absolutely gets worried about everything to do with this and it's so cute! Let’s see!)

The main difference is that Iruka is a lot more cautious when dating or courting any alphas if he already has custody of Naruto because he knows how the general population feel about him. No one is meeting Naruto for months at least, they aren’t allowed anywhere near Iruka’s house, and Iruka will put up with no disparaging remarks about Naruto, none at all.

But let’s say that everything has been going amazingly between Iruka and a new alpha. This alpha is perfect for Iruka is every way, and, from their discussions at least, they seem to have no problem with Naruto.

But Iruka is still terrified of introducing them. Because it’s one thing to not say anything bad about Naruto to Iruka's face and it’s another thing to help raise him. Iruka is so in love, and he doesn’t want to lose this alpha… But he will if they can’t handle Naruto. Naruto is his first priority, always.

Much sooner than he’d like, the fateful meeting day is upon him.

He’s inviting his alpha over to his house for dinner for the first time (to eat takeaway Ichiraku ramen because Iruka’s cooking sadly leaves much to be desired), and Naruto is joining you both after he’s finished his D ranks for the day.

…

You watch as Iruka nervously plates up the takeaway ramen into fancier dishes and tries to set the table for three. He’s already dropped the cutlery multiple times and smashed a glass in the sink.

“Iruka, here,” you say, taking the next batch of cutlery out of his hands and moving to carefully start setting the table. “Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine.”

Iruka gives you a shaky breath and a smile.

“I know, I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “That. It’s just that Naruto wasn’t happy when I told him I was courting someone, and I don’t want him to be upset or feel replaced or anything. He hasn’t said it in a long time, but I know he’s often worried that one day I’ll get tired of him and abandon him.”

You finish setting the table before you step forward and pull Iruka into an embrace.

“He sounds like a good kid,” you say firmly, rubbing your thumbs on Iruka’s hips. “And I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how nervous you are about how I’ll react to Naruto, too.”

Iruka jumps, blushing somewhat at being called out so directly, but before he can defend himself you hold up a hand to stop him.

“I don’t blame you for being nervous, ‘Ruka, I think it’s admirable, and not to mention sexy, how protective you are” you reassure and Iruka hits you lightly on the arm for the sexy comment. “I’m just trying to let you know that you have nothing to worry about, I’m not so closed minded as to blame a child for events that happened when he was a baby.”

“I know, I know, I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Shut up.”

…

Dinner had gone better than expected. Iruka’s idea of distracting Naruto with ramen had worked like a charm at lowering his defences and allowing for Iruka’s son and the person who he hoped would one day be his mate to start bonding.

Things weren’t perfect, Iruka could tell that Naruto was nervous about being replaced by this new person, and he’d never been the best at sharing Iruka’s attention (it had made the teaching Naruto’s class at the academy something of a challenge at times.)

But Iruka was now sure of his choice in alpha. They truly were perfect!

They had spoken to Naruto with only the kindest and most patient of voices, they had understood his boundaries and never pushed them, they didn’t hold the Kyuubi against him, and they appeared to be both dedicated to helping raise Naruto and also respectful of Iruka’s final say as Naruto’s father. They had taken every one of his concerns about them and obliterated them from his mind.

Iruka felt giddy.

He just had to make sure Naruto was feeling okay after everything this evening. He had been pretty enthusiastic in the middle, eager to have the attention and affection from someone new, but when he’d walked in on Iruka and his soon-to-be alpha kissing goodbye in the doorway, some of the enthusiasm and left him and Iruka couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head.

…

“Hey, you ready for bed?” Iruka asks softly, stepping into Naruto’s bright orange room without so much of a wince (practice after many years.)

“Mhmm,” Naruto hums affirmatively. He’s laying on his bed in his pyjamas, half-heartedly packing up his weaponry ready for training tomorrow.

“I know that must have been a lot,” Iruka tries to bring up this evening carefully as he perches on the bed next to Naruto. “How are you feeling?”

Naruto shrugs but Iruka can see that he has something to say.

“What is it, Naruto? You can tell me, this is your home too, you always have a say,” Iruka says, hoping beyond hope that Naruto hasn’t decided he hates Iruka’s partner.

“Will you get mated?”

“I-“ Iruka hesitates but tries to answer honestly. “Probably, if you’re okay with it and everything goes well.”

Naruto considers that answer for a moment before continuing.

“And then you’ll have pups, right? That’s what people do when they get mated, Sakura-chan said so.”

“It’s what some people do,” Iruka gently corrects. “And… I’m not sure yet, maybe, maybe not. Is that something you would want? A sibling?”

“They’d be my sibling?” Naruto asks, surprised. “But I’m…”

“You’re my pup, Naruto, that’s what you are,” Iruka says firmly and with no room for argument. He pulls Naruto in for a hug and Naruto immediately accepts the affection. He had always been a tactile person, and hugs were a good method for calming him down. “Any other children I may or may not have will be equally as important as you, and I will love them just as much as I love you, no more and no less.”

“Do you promise?” Naruto asks, voice muffled by Iruka’s shoulder. Naruto grips the back of Iruka’s shirt tightly in an effort to elongate the embrace.

“I promise,” Iruka says fiercely.

Iruka holds to embrace, wanting to let Naruto decide when to break it. And he doesn’t for several minutes, so Iruka just rocks him slightly, stroking his hair and placing kisses on the top of his head. Naruto’s insecurities are not unexpected, but they still break Iruka’s heart every time he’s confronted with them.

“Okay,” Naruto says eventually, pulling away from the hug a little. “Then I approve.”

“What?”

“I approve,” Naruto says again, firmly and with a determined glint in his eyes. “They’re nice and they like ramen and they… they make you smile and I’m going to be going on long and dangerous missions soon to protect princesses, so I won’t be able to make you smile all the time. They can do it for me.”

“Oh, Naruto,” Iruka can’t stop his eyes filling up with tears as he pulls Naruto back in for another embrace. His pup was so selfless and caring, how did he get so lucky?

“It’s okay, dad, don’t cry,” Naruto rushes to reassure, but apparently it’s the wrong thing to say because the second Iruka hears Naruto say ‘dad’, the tears double.

“I love you so much, Naruto,” Iruka says tearfully. “More than anything else in this world, you know that?”

Naruto laughs tearfully.

“Me too, dad, I love you more than anything.”

[supercorpkid]

Hola , I have an idea hope you like it , so what about superkid asking her mother's to have an other child ( adopt one for example) because she wants a sibling and she's soon off to college, she's sure her mom's will miss having a child in the house or her telling them it would be a great idea to have an other child Incase she died or sth since she's always on danger and Lena and Kara getting angry and shocked or whatever you want

I love this! I hope you like what I came up with :)

Another super kid?

Word count: 1070.

“Hey, so I was thinking.” You make your way to the couch where your moms are sitting. Kara makes space for you between them, and you smile. You lay your head on Lena’s lap and her hands immediately go to your hair. Kara gives you even more space, and holds your legs, putting them over her lap.

They wait for what you have to say, and you think about how exactly you want to say this. You’ve been thinking about that for a while, actually. About how nice it would be to have a sibling, but you always felt they weren’t interested in that. That was until you turned yourself into a baby and both had that light in their eyes when they saw you like that. Also, Kara asked you if you could stay a baby for a while longer, so now you’re sure they would love the idea of having another kid.

“You guys should have another kid.” It’s what you settle with. They are both taken aback by it. You make sure to study their expressions carefully.

“What?” Lena asks in shock, like you just said the most absurd thing in the universe. “Why would we do that? We already have the most awesome kid possible.”

“Hm, I mean, it’s true, I am great.” You laugh, getting a squeeze on your leg and an agreeable smile from them. “But I’m serious. I’m going to college pretty soon.”

“Excuse you!” Kara interjects. “Still a couple of years to go! Don’t try and take yourself away from me sooner!”

“See! That’s my point! You can’t even conceive being away from me.” You point at Kara.

“I can. I just don’t want to, ‘cause I love you too much.” Kara says and you poke her with your feet.

“Just hear me out, ok? You have all the research, this time it would be so easy to just make another kid. It’s like, spend ten minutes in the lab, and you get out of there pregnant.”

“I don’t get where this is coming from.” Lena still looks confused.

“I don’t want you two to feel lonely.” You shrug. “Besides, having a baby sister or brother would be so great. And hey, weren’t you two wanting to keep me as a baby when that whole incident happened?”

“Yes, you! I wanted you as a baby!” Kara pokes your leg to make her point.

“With mom’s research you would have another one just like me.”

“Just like you it’s not the same as you, my love.” Kara throws herself on your side, putting her head on Lena’s lap as well. “Besides, I can fly. I’ll go visit you in college every day.”

“Fun.” You look at Lena and she smiles down on you, knowing it’s probably true. And you can even imagine Supergirl being spotted everyday at the campus. It wouldn’t be weird at all to all the other students. “I’m just trying to look out for you, specifically.” You use your thumb to make Kara’s crinkle, between her eyebrows, disappear.

“Why me, specifically?” She asks and you almost roll your eyes at that. The answer to the question is so obvious.

“I don’t know. Mabe ‘cause youaresodependentofmeallthetime?” You slur your word, but there’s no point. Kara can understand you perfectly.

“I AM NOT!” Kara shouts a little too loud in your ear. You flinch. “I can live without you just fine.”

“Ok, well, in that case-” You mention moving out of the couch.

“But I don’t want to.” She interrupts, throwing her arms around you. “That’s the difference.”

“Ok.” You smile. “But, I mean, what if I die?”

“Don’t say that!” Kara yells again, making you flinch once more.

“This conversation is absurd.” Lena who talks now. You look up to her severe expression at you. “Let’s stop this nonsense.”

“Mom, just-”

“No! I don’t want to hear about you dying or getting hurt. It’s neither funny nor cute.” Lena stops you again, and you look at Kara feeling embarrassed after being scolded.

“Ok, now, forget about that part.”

“How about we just forget the whole thing?” Kara asks and you sigh, feeling defeated. “Don’t you get it, my heart? We just need you. The whole ‘let’s make ten of her’ was just a joke. You were and always will be more than enough for us.”

“But how great would it be if we had ten Superkids flying around the house?”

“God, no. We wouldn’t even have a house to begin with.” Lena says and you and Kara look at each other with a sheepish smile. It’s true. “Baby-” She calls your attention, and you look up. Lena is looking down on you with a patient smile on her face. “You don’t have to worry about us. It’s obviously not going to be easy when you leave for college, but we’ll adjust, like we’ve always done.”

“Besides, Lena’s too old to take care of a baby.”

“Me, huh? So you’ll be just fine waking up every three hours to feed the baby?” Lena asks, getting an agreeable nod from Kara. “Oh, really? Well, in that case we can have multiple babies if you agree to take care of them all night.”

“No, ok, wait.” Kara says, getting chuckles from both you and Lena. “Fineee. We’re both too old for this.”

“But that’s not the main point.” Lena cups your face. “The main point is that you’re everything we could possibly wish for, and there's no void that needs to be filled by another baby.”

“I’m not actually a baby.” You mutter.

“And Lena said that when you leave for college, I can turn your bedroom into a playroom.”

“Is that a sexual thing?” You crinkle your nose, already grossed out by the thought.

“What? NO! I’ll buy an old Super Mario video game machine.”

“Oh, ok.” You kiss Kara’s cheek, get up and kiss Lena’s too. “Ok, then. I’m glad we had this conversation and that you two have plans for when I leave.”

“Yeah. We sure do.” Kara gives you two thumbs up and you leave the room.

“Wait, was that really what you meant by ‘playroom’?” You hear Lena’s voice, and your eyes widen. No, no, no. You don’t want to hear Kara’s answer. You run out of the house; you only notice you can’t hear them anymore when you’re a couple streets away.

Maybe you should never leave them alone.

[i-need-air]

Hey, you can ignore this if you want. But, just a thought, hybrid Izuku? Like maybe he has a kinda bad past too, just because I live for the angst beginning to fluffy end.

Sorry it took me a couple of days to answer! I wanted to switch it up and I mainly had to think a way to make Izu work as a hybrid, so I decided to make him be a bunny hybrid [ blame his cute hero costume, srsly ] I ended up writing the small amount of 3.7k words somehow— [ listen, i get emotionally involved, ok??? 😭 ] I genuinely hope you like it! 💕

[ Masterlist ]

Hybrid!AU Bunny!Midoriya Izuku

× you looked at the man sitting in the corner of the cell, both petrified staring at each other

× his bunny ears were lowered, his green eyes widened in your direction

× all you could do was to stand still, shocked and without being able to even mask it

× he looked awful to say at least

× meanwhile the reception guy that accompanied you for a tour of the shelter whispered in your direction; "This one is in really bad shape. Very traumatized, poor soul..." he clicked his tongue before continuing "He's been sent here from another shelter cities away, I don't know much about him and he won't talk."

× you could not look away even if you tried

× the reason why you decided to pass by the shelter was because you offered to help voluntarily in the weekends as you had some free time

× you did read and hear horror stories about the shelters and the hybrids thrown in them, how underfunded they were, how bad the conditions there were and how little help they had but—

× even if you came prepared for the worst you got surprised with the state some of the hybrids were in

× specially this one; his name was on a plaque by his prison like cell— Midoriya Izuku

× he had bruises, cuts, his hands looked specially beaten up and scarred, his behavior was erratic, nervous, just a disaster...

× something deep inside told you to smile and show him you're no threat, so you did

× you introduced yourself and nodded your head, really trying to keep a calm composture but your heart hurt seeing him like that

× much to your surprise, he nodded back, still uncertain but didn't move from his place, far back in the cell

× you've been gently pushed away to continue the tour and to establish your tasks, all while being thanked for your kindness; you didn't know why you felt like throwing up at the indifference in the man's voice...

× there weren't many hybrids in the shelter anyway, yet you've gotten your scheduled hours in which you'd help clean and cook and as you left for the day after some introduction to those tasks; your mind still lingered on Midoriya Izuku even through the night, as his terrified eyes stole the sleep from you that same night

× the following two days you began your volunteering hours and always kept an eye for the hybrid; he was skittish and asocial even at lunch and dinner times, did not talk to any other hybrid and specially not to any worker there

× he caught your eyes multiple times whenever you'd be in his general proximity, yet you'd see him scurrying away instantly, which made you feel unease; you weren't any threat, really, so maybe with time...

× it's when you brought your own cleaning supplies [ because there were little to none ] and decided to help clean their "rooms", so called by the staff, when you firstly got to talk to him

× you reached his cell and he was reading an old book, probably borrowed from the small library they had; he snapped his eyes up when he heard you approach

× "Hello, Midoriya" you'd say gently, heart in your throat, really scared you'd frighten him

× he just nodded and looked away, not before giving your cleaning supplies a long look, knowing what's to come

× with his permission, he let you go inside as you started preparing everything to swipe the floors, putting the broom in a corner as you leaned down to pick some other stuff; what you didn't notice was how the broom was gently falling, almost about to hit you on the head

× the green-haired hybrid was on your side instantly, catching it; it would've been a small tap on your head and most out of the situation would've been you looking ridiculous but you chuckled at the scene and thanked him wholeheartedly

× smol bean blushed so hard you almost dropped everything in your hands at the sight; "N-no problem—" he stuttered, his voice sweet and shy 🥺

× he stood there fidgeting with the book in his hands watching you move around until you heard an unsure "Can I help you?" 🥺🥺

× you told him sure, if he'd like to, mainly worried he really didn't want you in his "territory" but the man took it as an invitation and—

× it didn't stop at his cell? he helped you all day???? you cleaned around together but not without an awkward air around both; which ngl it's funny bc he's staring whenever you talk to everyone, clean, help, so on; big round eyes are always on you;;; IF YOU LOOK THO, oops— "what an interesting wall right there!" - Midoriya, probably.

× it's from then that you notice a switch; whenever you're at the canteen, he's there offering to help, looking just as skittish as always but a small blush always on his face

× whenever you'd be playing with the younger hybrids he'd watch in awe bc you treat them so well

× exactly when he actually starts talking to you more too! he's in the impromptu playground with you and the few little ones when he suddently drops your name in a stutter and says you're kind-hearted

× you almost drop dead in the spot bc his look, man; you haven't seen him so sure of something until now and it did something to you

× it's been a month and hybrids came and got adopted, yet your new friend wasn't really getting any attention; he really acted terrified and you of course questioned his behavior; you knew nothing of his past but seeing the way he acted it could've been just awful

× as you started to slowly engage in larger conversations with Izuku, it's at the canteen that this time you've been caught staring; at his hands in particular

× he was helping you cook, which he really didn't know how to do but tried nonetheless just because he really enjoyed being around you [ or so you assumed, hopeful ]

× when he realizes where you're looking at, you almost dreaded him retracting from the situation like he used to do but he just looks down at them too and sighs

× "I was at a fighting ring—" he said, pursing his lips "—but I'm a rabbit hybrid... a prey... they used me as a punching bag."

× your heart rips in two as you're speechless; even if you tried to be careful with your movements not to spook the man, you could not help yourself by putting your hand on his

× and that's how Midoriya Izuku died, end of HCs 💀

× just kidding; he almost fainted, face fully red as his ears perked up, staring at you with big eyes yet did not move an inch

× and even if his face would've been adorable in any other situation, his words remained imprinted in your mind as you squeezed his hand in yours

× "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Izuku" you whispered back at him; he just nodded and blabbered something before continuing with the task clumsily

× boy is broken for the rest of the day, that's what I'm implying

× bad news got to you when you found out you couldn't go to the shelter anymore to help; your hours got increased at work and your shift was all over the place and even if you really did talk with your boss, it was decided that for now you had to adapt

× dread filled your gut when you realized you couldn't see Izuku anymore and with that you noticed how fond you grew of him, that's why you loathed the next visit there

× but— you really wanted to see him more; getting to spend time with him and helping around was what got you through the week...

× you told him slowly that same Saturday and it visibly broke him

× he tears up and tries to mask it as best as he can, yet he nods understanding

× "Will— Will I ever see you again?" the soft tremble in his voice shook you to the core

× "Of course. Every day, if you'd like." you blurted;;;;; he blinks at you, tears stopping just to have his head tilted to the side, ears flopping with the movement. "Would you like to come home with me?" you say, idea just popping in your head and balling it;

× he cries harder then he nods

× everything about your volunteering ceasing for the time was already filled in, you guys just needed to fill some paperwork for him, grab his little to no belongings and get the hell out

× small gym-bag in hand, i sweat to god, this man is overwhelmed with being outside

× stays glued to your side all the time, specially on busy streets towards your home

× once you feel him grab on your shirt just for precaution and you melt?? but let him have it

× once you arrived, you see tension leave his body as he smells his surroundings; mf drops a "It smells like you here" through a smile before realizing what he said and getting all flustered 💀

× sooo you move past that as you can and show him around, a spare bedroom not long ago used by your old roommate offered to him

× you only see his surprisingly muscled back as he enters the room and drops the gym-bag on the floor

× he slowly turns around to look at your face and fat ass tears run down his cheeks, not being able to say a word even if he tried

× hands-down the scene almost gives you a panic attack; he then asks if it's all for him and you assure him that indeed it is when he cries harder...

× ok, that again shreds your heart but it wouldn't be the last time

× like for example the moment of utter disbelief he threw at you when you asked him what he wanted to eat that night and he didn't know how to respond because nobody, ever, asked him; you got that as a response after asking if you said something wrong

× or the following Monday, when you suggested you went to do some shopping for him in the morning, since there wouldn't be many people and it would be calmer

× the look of awe in his face, istg...

× from then on he opens up pretty nicely too; it's such a refreshing sight to see him tell you about how he learned to use the computer, TV, phone— the sparks in his eyes whenever he talks of something new he learned? imagine it and now you've gained 20 more years of lifespan, you're very welcome

× such a soft cutie, i swear 🥺 always asks things about you and gives you the same sparkly eyes when he learns more about you

× it does take him some time to come out if his shell though

× you fastly realize he's a nerd; oops, but it's true, and definitely isn't a bad thing! he just really likes to learn about everything and anything and I feel he genuinely likes to tell you about those new facts

× i hope you like them bc when he learned new cool stuff he made a note to tell you about them bc he thought you'd find them cool too and—

× is very tidy and helps around the house, but when it comes to being social he just freezes

× you ask him if he'd like to go for walks and you see him itching to go out for some fresh air, although the thought of other people...

× with time and small walks around the neighborhood, he overcomes the fear as long as you're by his side

× will definitely want to go back to the shelter to volunteer even if you can't, but the fear of walking there just overtakes him again since he'd have to do it alone

× mentions it though

× his expression is so uneasy bc he feels like a burden

× maybe you could work around your schedule to take him there and pick him up? he genuinely loved giving a hand at the shelter so if you do, Izu would be so thankful

× in a few weeks he'd gain the confidence to walk alone

× one 💕adorable💕 thing he does without even thinking is jumping around you, or just in place

× "Today little Miya got adopted!" he'd say, hopping slightly in place "I could tell they were good people too! They had good intentions... just like when I saw you for the first tim—"

× so he mumbles without thinking;; and sometimes blurts out cute stuff like that but when he realizes what he's saying he gets very shy 🤭

× he has this fluff smol tail but we don't talk about it;;; no, no, it's too much for us, I promise you it's the cutest fucking thing you've seen in your whole existence and it moves a little bit and we all die here???? he hides it though, pft

× so fluffy we gonna dieeeee

× he steals your blankets

× hear me out, omg! he does!! if you have small blankets you just throw over yourself to stay on the couch or anything, sometimes they'd dissappear only to be found in his room; he's very sneaky about it but cracks under [the zero] pressure you put on him, leading him to say "It's because whenever you're not around, I like to have something close to me that smells like yOu! it makes me feel sAfe—" his voice cracks "BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO, I'LL STOP, I JUST—" he'd placate his hands instantly, apologizing

× tell him it's okay and now your hoodies are gone too lmfao

× he's a muscular guy too so consider buying really big ones just for him to wear;;; after you wore them;;;;;;

× says sorry a lot and that's a thing you have to work with a lot

× if he messes up something, he will apologize instantly; if you tell him to stop bc you don't mind he forgot to put the washing machine as he promised he will act like he's the worst

× as if he feared you'd get angry...

× i know it's a recurring topic but give him time

× whenever you both have free time and hang around the house, he'll be on the couch reading near you

× eyes you constantly and he's so obvious about it it's ridiculous; you can see him from the corner of your vision when he turns his head to check on you so through a smile you have to ask him if he needs anything

× what's fantastic is that he's getting over the point of being scared to speak out around you YET he stutters, blushing

× "N-no, nothing!" but he's observing your comfortable form with much interest

× "Wanna... cuddle with me?" [ 's not like you read about bunny hybrids and how they need skin contact which definitely didn't make you uwu and die in the spot bc that's so 🤧💕😭💘🥺 but you waited for him to show any signs that he'd want that; we're respectful like that, mhm ]

× his fluffy ear twitches

× shock, disbelief, blush

× it twitches again

× blushes harder then nods

× sksjdkdjd he's by your side instantly though with no idea of what to do

× good lord, he's so stiff; why don't you grab a blanket to throw it over both of you, hmm?

× he'd bury himself into it then into your arms and soon he'll find out being there is his favorite place in the galaxy

× since his mind drifted to galaxies, Izu then starts talking about constellations bc he's nervous

× so when you rub his back he melts into you with a happy sigh yet when your hand reaches his hair, almost about to touch the top of his head mindlessly as you hum at his words

× he flinches— then you stop to look down at him, catching him wide eyed staring into nothing

× you don't even know why you apologize; maybe his horrified face?

× but before you can form a full sentence he interrupts you

× "Don't apologize. It's not your fault—" he'd glue his eyes on you "I— I used to get bullied a lot back then... they'd pull my ears..."

× without any other explanation you take your hand away, placing it on his shoulders, mainly feeling out of place again; every time he speaks of his past, it just gets worse...

× "But! But I trust you, [Y/N]. I really do." and he leads your hand back to his head

× 🥺💕💕💕💕💕

× then, with convinced features, he drops his head on your chest and snuggles for some good seconds before it clicked to him

× now he's apologizing

× until you ruffle his hair and he just experiences bliss in real life

× massage his scalp and say goodbye to ever leaving his side, you're now in his firm grip until the end of time but who's complaining

× like he has no shame anymore, it feels that good

× he can hear your heartbeat, as fast as it is, and he snuggles further into you; it's his lullaby

× now let's get to business

× look: he's adorable, sweet, doting, cares about you and about hybrids, he's actively trying to get out of his shell, he's built but tender, couldn't hurt a fly;

× don't lie to yourself, you've got a big fat crush

× little did you know this guy right here liked you from the moment you introduced yourself to him, months prior

× the issue is Izuku is really insecure; after hearing his whole life that he's inferior to both humans and some hybrids, he started believing it

× and comments whenever you're outside with him do not help

× he has a spectacular hearing

× doesn't miss how people whisper about you two, even if you mind your own business doing whatever

× it's mostly older people, judgemental and disgusted with hybrids that call you a freak for having one, that call him an abomination

× he tries so hard to ignore them but his behavior changes back to his silent old self, yet this time he doesn't cower anymore although grips his pants until his scarred hands are white, not answering back to you if you talk

× you have to assume he's again uncomfortable outside so you suggest leaving, not sure how to behave

× he kinda snaps on your way back home when there's nobody around

× stops in the middle of the road, looking down, brow furrowed and trembling lips

× "Am I never going to be good enough for you?" he'd clench his teeth

× "Izu—, what...?"

× the determined glare he sends you stops you in your tracks

× "Because I want to be. I want to be better for you."

× 😳

× basically confesses in a dramatic way as he's overtaken with emotions then screeches bc oh no what if you don't feel the same so "I-It's okay if you don't feel the same! If you're uncomfortable I can move back to the shelter!! I'm so sorr—"

× smooch him pls????

× and share your feelings just to give him a stroke lmfao

× he'll take the initiative to grab your hand and walk home like that, the other on his face covering it

× peck his lips and he malfunctions every time

× but loves it

× be sure of this: after that night, he's so soft for you and won't hide it

× he's a creature of contact, meaning his fingers will linger on your form, he will seek your form, he will want to snuggle his face in your neck, he definitely will stare at your lips for too long bc he's still shy and embarrassed by his confession to make a move; smooch him pt. 2

× he's so— adorable; he finds himself in front of your bedroom door with your blanket in his arms and has an existential crisis

× you see his shadow at the small creak under the door and akfjaksj

× open the door and let him sleep with you ffs I'm having a stroke for him

× can he be the little spoon? or can you two hug face to face? it's just that 🥺 he feels safe with you like that, a feeling he's been always missing

× any time you're in his arms or vice-versa he breathes out as tension leaves his body; best place in the whole universe, no hesitation.

× he's a petty lil shit, let me tell you that, ok??

× someone flirts with you? lol k he's behind looking not intimidating at all but he's frowning, his ears are twitching and chest puffed

× takes your hand just to prove a point

× talking about his hands

× kiss them, caress them, anything

× he just... yes, pls, do that

× whenever you're not looking he's giving you the gentlest smile and even if you notice, his lips will curl even more before he throws a compliment at you

× pretty much likes your reactions bc he's always the one that's flustered the most between the two [ genuinely doesn't matter if you get flustered or not, he just tops that energy 100x more ]

× likes to know he has the same effect you have on him on a daily basis

× will try to find a job at something he's interested in and i definitely see him finding one at a library or something like that

× he enjoys the silence, completely different from his old loud and over the place life, and also loves books

× unrelated hc but i just imagined Izu whispering the words out loud whenever he reads without noticing it; his green eyes focused in the book, face concentrated and ears low to not get in his field of vision; want to make him happy? listen to him and when he finally notices you, tell him to go on~

× he's the embodiment of akfwpdkslfjjwj 💕

× honestly your life with him is peaceful

× the way he loves is gentle, really sweet and it all revolves about peace in your household

× he adores you to no end and thanks you for helping him improve himself

× and getting him out of a life without a goal or purpose

× gets out of his way to help you, always you and wants to prove he's good enough

× he already is and you better tell him

× give this baby all the love he deserves and you'll get just as much in return

× I'm soft for him oml 💘

[light-yaers]

I prompt you say? 👀

Not a prompt, I’m basically giving you the scene I’ve been envisioning 😅

Do you remember that scene in episode 4(?) where Din is on Sorgan, and he’s sitting in the cart with Cara, and he stretches his arms out and leans back to relax?? I think there’s a million gifs of it.

But imagine Reader is with him on Sorgan, and they haven’t been crew mates for very long. There’s some feelings on both sides, but neither have said anything yet.

She’s sitting next to him, and he does The Thing (ie puts his arm around HER) and neither of them acknowledge it. HOWEVER, when they fall asleep, reader and Din are all cuddled together, Cara looking at them like 🤨 “yeah sure... *definitely* not together.”

Reader’s a bit jealous of the attention that Din and Omera give each other, but doesn’t say anything. Din and Reader share a hut, and end up cuddling together at night too.

Idk if I’m making any sense. I just love fluff mixed in with hurt/comfort. Does this work?? I know it’s not a prompt, but rather a whole ass scene, but uh?????

Well, I can certainly do something with this. I do love a bit of hurt/comfort, and we all love a bit of Din, so here we go--

He had a good instinct. You knew that well, what from the multiple skirmishes he’d got the two of you out of before. Travelling with the man was never easy-- always unpredictable, always exciting, but exceedingly anxiety inducing, despite your hard-skinned personality. 

You were used to frequenting planets that weren’t kind. The ones where the wind blew so ferociously that you often relished in the boredom of staying with the kid while he hunted yet another quarry. These planets were unforgiving, populated by people who were even more so, but Mando didn’t bat an eye. Work was work, and his Beskar was easily polishable. 

But Sorgan was different. From the moment you’d landed you’d been surrounded by lush trees, beautiful forests and kinder locals than either of you were used to. That hadn’t stopped Mando from getting into a fight not even an hour after landing, but what had resulted was something you’d never expected; his soft side finally showing its colours. 

You’d bitten down the overthinking of past experiences with the Mandalorian; the way he sometimes subconsciously wrapped his arms around you while you both slept on the cold hull of the Razor Crest. The minimal words but aching stares from beneath his helmet. The softness of his silence while he occasionally watched you looking after the kid. He’d picked you up on a dying planet, promising you safety if you could deal with his work, look after the kid and keep your mouth shut.

Despite who he was, it was impossible not to see the kindness he possessed beneath the surface, and eventually he’d warmed to you; the same way you had with him. But even those moments wavered occasionally. 

“Grab the kid,” He ushered from the clearing, stepping aboard a cart driven by some men from a nearby village; they were in danger, and they needed help. Mando had actually accepted, opting to work alongside this woman, Cara Dune, unexpectedly. You’d learned not to ask questions, but this time it had you stumped. 

“Do you really think it’s wise for us to go to a random village, with a random woman who tried to kill you twenty minutes ago?” You let out, crossing your arms in front of him. Mando turned to you slowly, staring at you beneath his helmet. 

“What makes you think you have a say in this?” He replied bluntly, but it was exactly what you’d expected in return. You raised your hands in surrender, shooting him an unamused smile. 

“Oh sorry, I forgot you don’t pay me enough to get my opinion,” 

Hey, we all had bad days. Days where the last thing you wanted to do was go into the unknown once more, feeling the worry and pressure of looking after a wanted kid, and being around a wanted man whose face you’d never seen. 

You picked up the kid finally, breathing heavily through your nose as you made your way to the cart with the others. Mando didn’t help you board, as you jumped up with the kid cradled in your arms, sitting down near the back. 

Mando strode onto the cart, dropping himself down near you, close enough for you to feel the annoyance radiating off of him in waves. Maybe it was stupid for you to have spoken up, but dank farrik, this was unlike him. It only scared you. 

It would be a few days until you reached the village, so you settled in for the long haul, cradling the kid while he snoozed adorably and ignoring the occasional stares that Mando laid upon you. Cara Dune sat to your right, idly biting her nails and blowing away the excess off the cart. Nice. 

“So, what’s your deal?” She spoke up, looking at you and then to Mando, flicking her eyes between the two of you like a tennis match. “Is she a whore?”

“Fuck you,” You spat out immediately. The kid stirred in your arms and you sent him a silent apology for disturbing. 

“Just a crew member,” Mando finally replied, not commenting upon your outburst. Whore, who the fuck did she think she was? Cara nodded to herself, curling and amused smile onto her lips. 

“Just a crew member, okay,” She let out, but dropped it soon after, knowing that she’d crossed a line before. It was a silent trip, but you were used to the quiet. Mando was a man of little words. He didn’t speak unless it was necessary to, and you chose to adopt that same style. As much as both of you knew each other now, talking wasn’t a benefit to either of you. 

As night drew in, you snuggled up with the kid while you tried to make yourself comfortable. You spread yourself out on the cart, lying on your side and facing away from the Mandalorian. It was odd how used to sleeping next to him you were-- it was just the norm-- so when he eventually laid down parallel to you, back to back, it offered you something you were used to. 

He snored, but they weren’t huge snores; they were almost dainty, filtering through the modulator on his helmet with a faint hum every few seconds and providing you with the comfort to actually fall asleep on this god forsaken cart. 

It wasn’t long until the familiar shuffles of Mando’s arms found their way to you. He rolled over in his sleep, scuffing Beskar against the cart as he turned to you and began hugging you from behind. You sleepily accepted his embrace, not thinking it was anything out of the ordinary-- because it wasn’t. 

He found you while sleeping more often than he brought back a quarry. It was something unspoken yet accepted; something that both of you indulged in, waking up wrapped in each other’s limbs the morning after and not mentioning it at all. 

But that morning, it was mentioned-- just not by either of you. 

You woke when the sun began to cut through the trees, filtering down onto the slowly moving cart and warming your skin calmly. You were aware of Mando’s arms still wrapped around you, of him breathing beneath the Beskar, still asleep-- but Cara was fucking laughing. 

You stirred awake immediately, trying to stay quiet for the sake of the kid and Mando, before glaring at her head on. 

“Just a crew member, right?” She let out, along with a few childish chuckles. “Yeah, I spoon all of my crew members at night,” 

“Do you enjoy being a grade A asshole?” You questioned stubbornly, but it only fuelled her on further. 

“I enjoy it as much as you enjoy Mando’s hugs at night, I’m sure,” 

Oh, that was it-- you were going to punch her. You made sure the kid was out of your range, before going to launch yourself at her without hesitation-- but Mando held you back before you could. 

You were halfway to her, being held back by his arms wrapped around your torso from behind. In one motion, he pushed you back to the floor, smacking you down on the wood with a thud. Cara sent him an amused smirk, trying not to blatantly laugh at your blushing cheeks. 

“Stop pissing her off,” Mando said suddenly, aimed at Cara. Cara sent him an open-mouthed stare, but it was laced with laughter. 

“Oh, come on. She’s the one that got pissed off,” 

“And you’re the one that’s picking a fight. You’re lucky I held her back, she packs a mean punch when she wants to,” 

Stars, you were trying not to blush even more at his words, but it was useless. You simply looked away, trying not to focus on Mando’s stare behind you. You picked up the kid again, slowly cradling him awake. His large eyes stared at you calmly as he cooed to you in greeting. 

Soon, you’d all make it to the village, where you could get some much needed space from Cara fucking Dune-- where you and Mando could be content with your silent cuddles at night, without the threat of needing to talk about it the morning after. 

Just like normal.

--

I might do a part two to this, when they’re in the village with Omera! Thanks for the ask, OP! 

[consumeconstantly]

Those Who Are Kind

1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (you are here) | next

Summary: Siblings are the last thing on Marinette’s mind as she begins her frantic search for Tikki. Really, she can’t even consider them siblings, not yet. But they’re along for the ride, whether she wants them to be or not.

Duke doesn’t know what to make of the current situation.

He’s always known that the Waynes are crazy, insane, even, but he loves them all the same, in the begrudging, cautious way he cannot shake. (This approach has served him well over the years, allowing him to avoid multiple schemes that Tim or Jason typically start up to rile up Damian. From there, everything is guaranteed to snowball. The only time things get really bad is when Cass gets involved.) To him, it’s always been a bit uncanny how similar all the brothers looked, despite the fact that none of them shared blood. All of them had the same sharp jaw, piercing blue eyes, chiselled cheekbones and defined bodies. Only Tim and Damian differed slightly, with Tim having a dancer’s figure instead of that of a body builder or demolitions expert, and Damian having green eyes instead of blue. It’s also disconcerting that everybody the Waynes are more intimately involved with have some sort of alter ego. He often joked with other members of the Justice League that heroism ran in Bruce’s blood.

With the new addition of Marinette to their family, he has to say that he’s been proven right.

A girl who had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes in any capacity other than the fact that she and Bruce share blood becoming a hero. The leader of a team. Fighting supervillains at the age of thirteen.

He’s very, very glad that he was not adopted by or shared blood with Bruce. He doesn’t think he could have handled being a superhero at age thirteen. He can barely handle being Signal now some days, and he’s an adult. The amount of responsibility on Marinette’s shoulders is difficult to understand. To be the sole wielder of magic that can revert an entire city back to its original state. To bring people back from the dead. 

Dick is strangely quiet. A car is driving them from a pit stop near a zeta tube to Marinette’s hospital. 

Hands down, Dick is the most sane male of the Wayne family, not including Alfred. But there are times when Duke sees the weight that he carries. All the times that he refuses to talk about the burdens that he bears. Moving forward with a smile when he’s in pain. When he gets in a mood like this, he’s hard to read. But given the circumstances, it’s fairly clear exactly what’s bothering him. 

“He’s known about her this entire time,” Dick says, tinted windows allowing Duke a glance at his expression, carefully devoid of any telling emotions. “Nineteen years. He kept her a secret.”

“It’s Bruce.” The man is known for keeping secrets. 

“Yeah, but Marinette is family. She should have been, at least. And now…”

Now she’s all alone when she should be surrounded by people that love her, praising her for her victory, for how she shouldered so much responsibility at such a young age. But by bringing her to a hospital in America, she’s been cut off from her team, and any support system she should have had is gone. 

“You and her,” Duke says, looking for a way to comfort him. “You’ll get along. You’re similar, after all.” After they brought Gabriel and Lila to the a top security prison and sent Emilie to a hospital that couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, they got two files from Tim. One detailing Ladybug and all of her exploits. The second, detailing Marinette’s life. 

Duke has watched the videos. Has watched how Ladybug leads by example, comes up with the plan and begins the execution. How she shoulders more battles than she should. 

He’s seen Marinette pull people together with a smile on her face, even while she’s running on empty after a strenuous akuma attack. 

Dick and Marinette are alike. 

“We’re too much alike,” Dick says. “I suspected for a long time that Bruce had another kid that he wasn’t telling us about, but I thought that if he was keeping her away from us, then maybe she’d have a shot at leading a good life. A normal life. Not the one she got. Sabine’s— Bruce’s biological daughter shouldn’t be somebody like me. She deserves better.”

Duke is acutely aware that Dick’s parents were also murdered, but whatever relation he had with Sabine is something he’s never been willing to talk about. There are pictures in his apartment of a petite Asian woman with a soft smile standing next to him, but whenever asked about her, Dick never gives a straight answer. 

“Nobody has the ability to change the past.” Duke claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He sags imperceptibly under the weight. 

Well— actually, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities, given the fact that magic, aliens, and metahumans all coexisted, supplemented by the fact that multiple members of Marinette’s team do have the ability to travel back in time, but that’s another matter entirely. There’s not a lot of information on the Miraculous, and all of their knowledge is coming from Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Zatara, and even the three of them don’t know everything. 

“But you have the chance to do good by her. Be a good older brother, like I know you are.”

A thin smile appears on Dick’s face. “She’s going to need more than just one good influence on her life. And Damian is better, but you saw how he looked at her when Bruce brought her through the Zeta tubes. Tim’s not going to react well either, and Jason is a wild card. She’s not going to get the support she needs if she stays with us.”

Duke crosses his arms, knees brushing up against the back of the car seat. “The only person whose actions you’re responsible for are your own. Don’t worry about them. If they don’t like her, they’ll just avoid her.”

That’s certainly not true— all of the members of the Wayne family are notorious for going hard after all of the things they don’t like. But... it’s comforting to hear. Sometimes temporary and known lies are much nicer than harsh realities.

#

She’s gone.

All of her belongings are missing, the IV needle is hanging from the stand, the window open, and Marinette is missing from her bed.

At least she left a note?

Be back soon — Marinette

“Great,” Duke mutters under his breath. “Another incredibly vague, cryptic Wayne.”

Dick’s face turns to ash. “Her legs. Her head. She can’t go out so soon. Hold on, maybe Barbara can pull up some footage.”

“On the bright side, there’s no blood,” Duke says. 

“That’s not a bright side.”

“It is,” Duke argues. “She fell in the worst places possible, right on top of that broken glass casket. If she’s not bleeding that clearly means she didn’t pull her stitches on her mad escape out.”

When Ladybug fell, they’re not exactly sure what happened, because the screen showed Ladybug collapsing almost gracefully. When they arrived on the scene, she flickered between Ladybug and Marinette as her earrings beeped. Her legs were slashed from falling on the glass with a seemingly unnatural force— simply falling would not have garnered cuts that large— and her head was twisted at an odd angle, debris bloodied beneath her.

Somehow, the Miraculous Cure seemed to be working backwards. Not from the epicenter out, but rather from the edge of the damage, in. It worked slowly, every mile taking minutes instead of mere seconds. It hadn’t happened before in any of the battles.

It was useful in apprehending Hawkmoth and Pavona, who were still knocked out. But Marinette, even after the Miraculous Cure washed over her, didn’t get healed. Her injuries didn’t revert. There was still a gash on her stomach from Hawkmoth’s cane, still muscles exposed on the back of her legs and blood on her neck. When she was first brought in, the doctors feared that she may be permanently incapacitated. 

Good at keeping to her word at least. She came swinging through the window with worry on her face and grief in her eyes. 

“I need to go back to Paris,” she says. 

Dick will undoubtedly say no. He’s a very protective person, and Marinette is the center of his current efforts. 

But she doesn’t look injured. He eyes her stance. She’s standing with no effort, walks with no limp. No hospital dress, no blood on her neck, no bruises in all of the places he was expecting them to be. Marinette does not look like she just faced a world ending threat less than twenty four hours ago. She certainly doesn’t look like she’s permanently lost the use of her legs. There’s the familiar Wayne Brand Stubbornness in her eyes— no way she’s not Bruce’s kid— that tells him that she’s going to get to Paris one way or another, and that they’re either lucky they were even notified in the first place or that she wants to use a resource that they have that she does not have access to. It’s fairly obvious what that resource is, considering that Paris is nine hours away by any normal plane and it sounds like she wants to get there in minutes, and not hours. Duke also knows that if they don’t take what she’s offering now, she’ll use an alternative method that definitely won’t be as nice or clear cut. 

He jumps in before Dick can say anything. “We’ll take you as long as we go with you every step of the way.”

Oh, he’s going to get in so much trouble for doing this. Dick is looking at him with his Disapproving Dad glare, and he can imagine Bruce going into brooding silence when he hears that Duke allowed this to happen. 

Marinette’s lips pinch together, but she nods. “Where’s the nearest zeta tube?”

#

Barbara gets Dick’s text and sighs in frustration.

She’s already got her hands full with watching Tim, who’s spiralling trying to find information about the Miraculous, muttering under his breath in the way he does when he gets a particularly hard case to crack. He’s gone through six cups of coffee in the last hour, and he kicked off his research with a combination of 5 Hour Energy, Monster, three packets of sugar, and 10 caffeine shots. Soon, she’ll have to start limiting his caffeine intake, but right now it’s clear that any attempt to get him to stop his research now will fail spectacularly. At least she’s not in charge of Damian and Jason. Wherever they are, they’re definitely on the move and not happy.

She never thought she'd be able to say she’s happy about being paralyzed from the waist down, but she certainly doesn’t want to be chasing after one of the two hellions. Cass definitely has her hands full and whoever’s watching Jason— wait, is anybody even watching Jason? Typically Roy gets stuck with Jason-sitting duty, but he’s been out for a while. 

Barbara groans. Jason is probably on his own, wreaking havoc.

Great.

She’ll deal with that later, even though she has no doubt she’ll regret that decision, but if Marinette is gone from her room, Dick needs the footage, and somebody needs to find where she is. The nurse put in her latest report that her legs were almost healed and that she didn’t show any signs of a concussion, but Marinette was in bad shape when she got admitted to the hospital. Even though Barbara doubts that there was any misdiagnosis, given that Bruce sprung for a VIP room in one of the pricier hospitals, in a world where magic and aliens are present, who knows what’s true or not.

“Tibet!” Tim jumps up from his hunched over position for the first time in hours. “I’m going to Tibet, the closest zeta tubes are three hours by car away, but I can get somebody to loan Wayne Industries a helicopter while I’m over there.”

“Sit down, Tim.” Barbara takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Why can’t Bruce rein in his children? Why is she the one stuck babysitting? “Marinette left her hospital room.”

That certainly gets Tim to put the brakes on his movements towards the zeta tube in the bat cave. 

“What?”

“I said, she left her hospital room. Just sit down while I send the information over. It’s not going to do you any good to rush into things anyways.”

A quick review of the surrounding CCTV shows that Marinette didn’t travel far, just around the hospital. She’s looking for something, calling out for it, too. Barbara grabs that file and slows it down so she can read her lips. “Dickie? Do she and Dick know each other already?”

A quick text back to Dick reveals that Marinette has already returned to the room and—

Oh, hell. 

“Well,” Barbara pushes her laptop away from her, letting Tim watch the files she’s pulled up. “It looks like we’re taking a family trip to Paris.”

#

Somehow, Marinette almost manages to lose all four of them within the first four minutes of roaming around Paris.

Luckily, their family has an almost absurd amount of luck between all of them (not all of it good) and the person Barbara was half sure she could only find in prison, beating up Hawkmoth and Pavona, runs into Marinette on the streets and herds her back to them.

“Lose something?” Jason asks, arm slung around Marinette’s shoulder, the smaller, younger girl looking rather upset at having her plans thrown off.

“I told them that they could follow me,” Marinette argues without much real bite. It’s not my fault if they can’t keep up, is the clear meaning of her statement.

Again, Barbara is very impressed that the barely nineteen year old somehow managed to shake off vigilantes with decades of experience with ease. But it is, at least, partially due to her disability. Every time she goes out in her wheelchair, her heart aches a little, especially as the civilians she passes eye her with pity. Barbara doesn’t want pity. Doesn’t need pity. She shouldn’t feel anything when people look at her like she can’t keep up, because she can keep up.

Most of the time, anyways.

It doesn’t matter how she uses her tech skills to modify her wheelchair and deck it out with all the equipment she could ever need, or that she can easily get up to speeds rivalling sports cars for short periods of time before the power runs out. When she’s stuck in her wheelchair, she loses the maneuverability she had when she wasn’t paralyzed.

She couldn’t follow Marinette through the alleyways because she was stuck. Barbara was the one who noticed her escape first. If only she were more capable, she could have—

But it’s okay now. Jason ran into her. Marinette is back with them. 

“I need to search for something, and none of you can help.” She’s not intentionally being rude when she says it, and if anything, sounds apologetic. Barbara sees the similarities between Marinette and Bruce. It makes a lot of sense that the two of them are father and daughter, when the two of them are so insistent on keeping major issues to themselves. Marinette twists herself out from underneath Jason’s arm, clutching her purse. Her head doesn’t move, but her eyes are wild. 

“We can help,” soothes Duke, ever the voice of reason. “You know who we are.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve all either deduced who I am or have been told my identity,” counters Marinette. “Which means you should know why I can’t have you helping me.”

Barbara and Duke exchange pointed glances. 

“That’s not really clear to us, actually,” says Barbara. Marinette isn’t moving, but the way her shoulders tense makes her believe that the younger girl is ready to run at the drop of a hat. 

A small group of people from the parade on the streets tumbles into the alleyway they’re resting in. They smell like cheap booze and sweat. 

“What are all of you doing in this alley?” one says, after he finished vomiting up his last (very colorful) meal. “You should be out there partying with the rest of us! Celebrating Ladybug and her team.”

“Fuck Hawkmoth and Pavona,” says another solemnly, with neon face paint and pigtails with glitter string intertwined. “Their defeat should be celebrated by even the darkest souls.”

Jason, easily amused by their antics, looks very willing to join them. “Yeah Marinette, we should be celebrating Ladybug not—”

As one, everybody looks at the place where Marinette was, just moments ago. The alley is decidedly empty of a small asian girl with blue eyes and pigtails.

“Fuck,” Jason curses.

“Fuck is right,” Duke agrees, placing a hand over his temple. 

#

Marinette manages to disappear for three hours.

Three full hours.

“She’s good,” Tim says, typing into the holographic computer embedded into his sleeve. 

Paris’ CCTVs are painfully easy to hack into, though he suspects that the lack of attention to them may have to do with the fact that everybody in the city is celebrating. Policemen, politicians, artists, students, scientists—  people from all walks of life are in the streets today, screaming and shouting and being free for the first time in years.

He spies more than just a few dozen people bawling their eyes out within a few minutes. But that’s not surprising, considering how long Parisians have had to suppress their emotions for. 

Dick and Barbara are still in the midst of profiling Marinette, trying to determine the most likely places where she’d stop by, either as Ladybug or herself. All of Ladybug’s usual haunts are decidedly devoid of the young heroine, though Tim does manage to catch a good amount of footage of the other young heroes like Carapace and Rena Rouge, who are most definitely in a relationship based on their makeout session on top of the eiffel tower (one of the first places Tim checked), Viperion, who seems to be the only one from Ladybug’s team to be seeking out the crowd which seems rather atypical considering that the hero never frequented interviews or was spotted on news coverage all that frequently,  and Chat Noir and Queen Bee who Jason insisted were in a relationship as well, though the rest of them believed they were only embracing each other out of comfort— Chat Noir looks like he’s been crying for hours, and Queen Bee looks like she’s barely holding it together.

Ryuko has not shown up on camera once today. Neither has Ladybug.

The second place Tim checks is the bakery. She is not there either, though another girl is. It doesn’t seem like the girl has any ill intent, but Duke is more than happy to pull up past files to see if she’s been there before, if she has any reason to be there, and who exactly she is. 

Just as Barbara and Dick are debating the chances that Marinette would be at Le Grande Paris, she walks past one of the cameras focused on Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Tim has the system rigged up so that any facial matches for Marinette automatically alerts the room. He hadn’t been able to replicate that with Ladybug’s face for some bizarre reason which is why he, Barbara, Dick, and Jason are manually combing through the areas where Dick and Barbar think she may be (magic is why, but Tim has always believed that technology can be used against and with most forms of magic) so it’s lucky that she enters as Marinette. 

“Kagami Tsurugi,” Duke says triumphantly. “She visited often when Tom and Sabine were still alive. Potential candidate to represent France or Japan for Sabre in the next Olympics. Definitely friends with Marinette.”

“Thank God,” sighs Dick. “Now let’s get over there.”

It’s truly, truly unfortunate that they set up shop quite a distance away from the bakery.

They take too long to arrive.

#

Perhaps it was a mistake, telling Kagami first.

No, not just perhaps. It was a mistake. A bad one.

But Kagami was pushing so hard, and Marinette was so tired and so alone without Tikki at her side, without the knowledge that her parents would be waiting for her. Kagami pushed and pushed and pushed about why the house felt so empty, why there was dust on the floor, why the bakery was closed for so long, and where were Tom and Sabine? Why weren’t they there for the team yesterday, when the battle was won, when they knew how important it was to be there for Adrien who had just lost all three of his parental figures? 

The moment the words fall from Marinette's lips, she knows she shouldn’t have revealed it at that moment, because Kagami draws in on herself, lips turning downwards, hands curling into fists. 

Kagami has come a long way from the girl she was in lycèe. The thrill of victory is still something she enjoys, but not something she needs to feel secure in her place in the world. She has trouble expressing her emotions, but when it comes down to it, she communicates everything necessary to understand why. 

With the news of Tom and Sabine’s death, she withdraws into herself, shifts back into that thirteen year old Marinette first met. Logic  and rationale thrown to the wind in favor of cold anger. 

It’s no secret that Ryuko, Ladybug, and Viperion are the main strategists of their team. Viperion, out of his duty of using Second Chance and his ability to keep a level head in the face of constant death. Ladybug out of necessity as her position as team leader and the power of Lucky Charm. Theoretically, the two of them should have been enough. But over the years, Kagami became Marinette's favored confidante; though Ladybug trusts all of her team to keep a tight hold on any information she gives them, Kagami is one of the few who is able to pick apart a given situation and transform the monsters they face into manageable pieces. 

Today, it is Kagami who has broken to pieces. Very angry, razor sharp shards that seek to hurt.

“You lie to the media, tell them a pretty tale of how they died due to a break in. Why do you avoid pinning their deaths on Lila as you should? To absolve a quality woman from guilt?”

Marinette can’t look Kagami in the eyes.

Her parents deserved a peaceful death. To pass on in old age, hand in hand. Not looking on as a family member died, in fear of what would happen next for their daughter. 

“The police know. The judges know,” Marinette protests weakly, but without much eight behind her words.

Kagami just scoffs. “Tom and Sabine were kind people. To not tell the media what truly happened— that’s preventing Lila from getting the full force of what’s coming to her. What happens if she gets out of prison one day? Without any real deaths to her name, she could just flee to another country to escape it all. And when another person loses their life because of her…” 

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. If somebody else gets injured in any way, shape or form at the hands of Lila Rossi, it’s Marinette’s fault. Marinette gets what Kagami is trying to say. She thinks the same thing, after all.

“My parents would not want their death publicized in that manner.” It’s the truth, but it’s said so weakly that the words come off as little more than a weak defense, and Kagami takes the words and twists their truth.

“You know little of your parents, considering that you’re their daughter.” Kagami stands stock still, not a single extra muscle moving. “Perhaps if you spent more time with them as Marinette instead of unsuccessfully gallivanting around as Ladybug, you’d have realized that Tom and Sabine admire truth above all else, even if it is painful.”

Kagami does not ask a single question about where Marinette was last night, or how Marinette felt over the loss of her parents or when she saw all those she held dear lying still on the ground after Hawkmoth and Pavona’s final attacks. She just purses her lips and sweeps out the door.

And then she’s gone, and Marinette is alone once more. 

#

The bakery is bone-achingly quiet.

Every step Marinette takes creates such a disturbance in the peace that moving hurts. 

But she can’t stay here. She can’t stay here. She does not deserve to stay here. Kagami is right. Marinette was a bad daughter. She could have prevented their death, could have given them justice sooner, could have— 

And Marinette can’t breathe. She tries to, she tries so hard to, but she chokes.

She kneels down on the floor— Kagami is right again, the place is dusty, because Marinette couldn’t bring herself to use the living room and kitchen without her parents, could barely bring herself to sleep in her bedroom because she knew that her parents were not sleeping soundly in the bed below hers— and scrabbles at her throat, vision coming in and out.

Her legs burn. She knows that during the final battle, her legs were cut towards the end of it, and they should be healed, she should be okay now, she’s better than this, she’s— 

Somebody gathers her in their arms. They smell slightly of Lotus flowers, just like Maman, and cradle her ever so gently.

Marinette’s eyes open— black hair, greyish eyes filled with understanding and love and— 

She can breathe again.

She falls asleep.

#

“Cass?” Dick’s eyes widen at her unexpected appearance at Marinette’s home.

“I thought you were on Damian guard duty,” Barbara says, fixating on the red around Marinette’s eyes and the barely dried tear tracks on her face.

“Where’s that Kagami girl?” Jason scuffs his shoes on the hardware floor, silently marking the footprints on the floor and getting a general idea of what occurred before they were able to get here based on Marinette’s current state and the other girl’s absence. “I want to have some words with her.”

Cass inclines her head sharply, eye sparking with anger. Jason’s fists rise unconsciously— Cass rarely gets angry, and whenever she gets angry at a specific person, that means they’ve done something very, very wrong— ready to hunt down Kagami. Marinette sniffles and shifts in Cass’ one armed embrace, to which Cass places a finger over her lip and shakes her head, a universal sign to be quiet.

 Jason scowls but settles down.

They’re quiet as they wait for Marinette to wake.

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys  @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness @iamablinkmarvelarmy 

@emark7 (i will have the edited version of these on ao3 eventually but i think the link to ch 1 on this one works)

where i ended this doesn’t feel very good but ehhhhhhhhhh my writing process is summary then word vomit that barely correlates which means nothing makes sense unless i edit but looking back at my work makes me cringe so at a crossroads yayyy

also can you guys tell which prompts ive written these for because i’m curious

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 6: adopted by love interest’s family

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 1675 Summary: Jaskier wasn't quite expecting to have such a warm welcome at his first visit to Kaer Morhen, but he certainly isn't complaining. Especially not when he accidentally overhears conversations he wasn't meant to hear.

read on ao3

“I do not kiss and tell,” Jaskier insisted haughtily, though he winked at Eskel and Lambert as he did so.

Lambert snorted into his drink--something far stronger than Jaskier would find at any old tavern in the Continent. Jaskier had taken one sip, gagged, and made some crack about it curling his chesthair that had Eskel and Lambert howling as they offered him something more suitable. More suitable, apparently, meant probably the strongest wine Jaskier had ever taken. It was meant to be sipped, absolutely, but at least Jaskier could stomach this one. He had never considered himself to have a weak constitution, but Witchers just so loved proving him wrong.

“That’s a lie and we all know it, bard,” Lambert accused, a finger pointed at Jaskier as he narrowed his eyes. Jaskier smiled pleasantly back. “If you had actually managed to kiss that princess, you would be bragging about it until your dying breath. I bet she rejected you.”

Jaskier feigned affront. “Rejected? Me? I’m offended you would even suggest such a thing. But I will forgive you, simply because you do not know of what you speak; you have not seen me in action.”

Now was Eskel’s turn to snort. “We haven’t seen you in action,” he repeated, an eyebrow raised pointedly and a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Have you seen him in action, Geralt?” Lambert asked, with all the faux innocence a shithead like him could muster. “Is it truly a sight to behold? Knicker dropping, would you say?”

Jaskier’s face flushed and he resolutely did not turn his attention toward Geralt, lest Geralt read a bit too much on his face. Geralt, however, didn’t seem to notice the teasing, which was less surprising and more disappointing than Jaskier would have thought. Instead, he hummed and tapped the table as if he was actually considering his answer. Bastard.

“It’s a sight, I’ll say that much,” he answered, ever the diplomat.

“Inspirational, truly. I think your roles should be switched. Geralt should sing of Jaskier’s triumphs,” Eskel said, rolling his eyes.

Jaskier waved a hand. “Save us all that misfortune, Eskel. Geralt would have to say a nice thing or two about me on occasion. I don’t think his poor, delicate heart could take it.” Jaskier grinned at Geralt and nudged him with his shoulder, only to receive an eyeroll and a push back--Geralt likely thought it was just a nudge, but it sent Jaskier tumbling over on the long bench. “See? Brute.”

When Jaskier had first come to Kaer Morhen, he had expected a far cooler reception than the one he received. He had been traveling with Geralt for years, and though he knew Geralt was fond of Jaskier, in his own ways, Jaskier could never quite call him warm. It was a safe assumption that a winter in Kaer Morhen would be much the same, but from three new witchers. 

Vesemir did have a bit more of his progeny’s cool and collected demeanor, but he had clapped Jaskier on the back in a way Jaskier could almost call fatherly on multiple different occasions. When he had met Lambert and Eskel, Lambert had loudly started singing Toss A Coin at them and Eskel had pulled Jaskier in for the most thorough hug of his life. 

Since that welcome reception, they had been outrageously chatty compared to their brother in arms, and nearly every night was spent talking well into the evening. Jaskier had no monster stories to regale them with, but the others did not make him feel as if he was the odd man out. Instead, they looked forward to his stories of skirt chasing and court drama just as much as he looked forward to their tales of heroics against monstrous monsters.

Monstrous monsters. Maybe he’d had a bit too much of the wine.

“It seems my meager human constitution pales in comparison to what your sturdier frames can put away. I fear I must retire before I say something to embarrass myself,” Jaskier said, pushing himself back from the table and standing.

“That’s the longest way to say ‘I’m pissed, gonna go sleep it off,’ I’ve ever heard,” Lambert snorted. “Do you ever say things straight?”

“No,” Geralt answered. “He once ranted through an entire meal, but the only thing he managed to say was that I was a troll.”

“And you are, darling. And a miserable hag to boot.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “A true wordsmith such as I knows how to weave even the most simple of statements into works of art. Try not to miss me and my eloquence too much, and pray that you do not drink yourselves into an early grave. Is it still an early grave if you’re well over a hundred?”

The witcher’s laughed and bid him goodnight, and Jaskier made his way out of the hall.

The problem with the witcher’s keep was that it was not the most intuitive place to navigate. Jaskier prided himself on his sense of direction, having been in many a castle before, and all castles started to look alike with their long, windy hallways and doors upon doors, many of which led to nowhere. The keep was much the same, and the combination of its inherent confusion, the darkness, and Jaskier’s slight inebriation had Jaskier lost. Quite quickly.

It took him about ten minutes and four different doors he was certain had contained stairs earlier that day to finally admit defeat and shuffle back to the dining hall. He didn’t mean to overhear, he really didn’t. Jaskier wasn’t even trying to be sneaky--why bother, when you’re in a keep full of men pumped with so many mutagens they could tell the color of a rabbit from the way it shuffled its feet? Only, apparently the ale had dampened their attention enough that Jaskier’s quiet steps had gone unheard, and he was able to approach the door to the dining hall without so much as a stutter in their conversation.

“--like him, Geralt,” Eskel said.

“Aye. If you manage to fuck things up in the next year and don’t bring him back, I’m not sure if we can let you pass through the gate,” Lamber agreed, though his voice was unusually pleasant. Like he was teasing Geralt.

“So glad to know my own brothers have turned on me so quickly,” Geralt scoffed.

“Well, we’d probably let you in, but only because if your froze your balls off we’d be hearing about it for the next century or so. Seriously, though. He’s nice to have around. You have certainly been less moody this winter,” Eskel said.

“Yeah, you were a right prick last year. And the year before that.” Lambert paused, as if he was considering something. “You have been a right prick this year, too, now that I think of it. Maybe the bard just distracts from your overall unpleasantness.”

There was a quick scuffle and a grunt from Lambert, followed by a long laugh from all of them, though Lambert’s took a moment to move from begrudging to warm. Sometimes, Jaskier wondered if they truly were brothers since infancy; they certainly acted like it. Though, he supposed experiences like they’d had bound people together far more securely than mere blood.

“I’ll ask him, but there’s no guarantees. He makes his own decisions. Goes where he wants. I have no claim to him,” Geralt said, and Jaskier was sure he was not drunk enough to be imagining the sadness etched in his voice.

“Well that’s bull--” Lambert started, only to be drowned out by Eskel.

“Geralt, are you kidding?” Eskel asked, incredulous. “That bard would go wherever you went, if only you’d ask. Even over a fucking cliff.”

“Seriously. He makes eyes at you so frequently, I don’t think he’s even aware he’s doing it at this point.”

Lambert laughed, as if it was a joke, but Jaskier’s face grew hot with embarrassment. Ah. So they had noticed. Jaskier was half afraid they would, and now he had mounting concern over the fact that they were telling Geralt. Jaskier was quite certain this winter was about to get a hell of a lot longer, lonelier, and colder. Either Geralt would realize Jaskier’s affections were just as his brothers said and be disgusted, or he would just let them stay there, as if nothing had happened. Jaskier wasn’t sure which option was worse.

“I’m going to bed,” Geralt said, his voice gruff, and Jaskier heard the scraping of his chair against the wood. 

Jaskier stumbled back a few steps, silently cursed himself, then tried to tiptoe away without attracting too much attention. This was not something he wanted to explain. Except, he still didn’t know how to get back to his own room. Fuck.

“If you’re smart, you’ll go to your bard’s bed!” Lambert called as the door opened. Fuck.

Jaskier scrambled behind a nearby door, trying to hide as quietly as he possibly could. It was a fool’s errand, he knew. After all, even drunk, Geralt would be able to notice him, surely. But he had gotten lucky once tonight when it was him against witchery senses; Jaskier could only hope he’d be lucky again. Otherwise he would have a fair bit of explaining to do.

Geralt walked by the door, and Jaskier only narrowly avoiding expelling a breath of relief. Until he heard Geralt stop, then push the door closed.

“Next time, you should make sure you close the door after you hide behind it,” Geralt said, a smile in his voice, then continued on his merry way, as if he hadn’t left Jaskier frozen to the spot in shame.

It took a long time for Jaskier to build up the courage to leave whatever room he had been hiding in. By the time he did so, Geralt was gone. Apparently, that was that. Apparently, Geralt was content to allow Jaskier to at least sort of live this down.

Maybe this winter wouldn’t turn out to be horrible after all.

[hostess-of-horror]

A Day at the Diner

[M.B. is my Cadetsona OC, Sean and Nyarly belong to @drusb, and M.J belongs to @sleepy-heads-blog]

---

Sam: "See, I told you hiring a new Cadet would be a good idea!"

Max: "Ugh! Alright, alright! I get it! Sheesh..."

Sam: "The kid's honestly been doing a pretty good job, at least with the errands. M.J. and Geek have warmed up to her rather quickly."

Max: "Yeah, but just wait until something happens where the plot shifts into a devastatingly emotional turn where we all somehow get into a heated argument because of something she did and we decide to split up...." *mumbles* "Hopefully by then it doesn't end with our 'friendship' rekindled."

Sam: "Jesus, Max, what's the big deal? She hasn't even done anything to you."

Max: "Like I said before, I'm territorial, and she's in my territory!"

[Sam sighs. The bell over the Diner door rings. There enters M.B., the new Cadet, all dressed in black from her nails and makeup down to her boots. Her dirty blonde hair is completely shaved on the right side of her head, and the rest fall onto her shoulders. Along with her dark attire is a pair of magenta tea shades, fishnet gloves, and spiked jewelry. She is carrying a small pastel purple coffin backpack, which is covered in multiple pins. M.B. looks around the Diner until she sees Sam and Max in their booth.]

M.B.: *smiles and waves* "Hey guys!"

[As M.B. goes to join them, Sam begins to notice more things about her appearance. It was almost androgynous, a mix of both feminine and masculine. Her clothes are baggy - a pair of cargo pants and a black t-shirt with the words "Dracula" across the front. Below the title was the famous image of Count Dracula holding a fainted woman, ready to sink his fangs into her neck. M.B. sits down across from him and Max, placing her coffin backpack down.]

Max: "Hey Lumpy, where's your coffin? The sun is out! And I think you're at the wrong place." *points to the window* "Hot Topic is that way."

Sam: *bumps Max's head* "Quit it, pinhead. Sorry about that, kid, just ignore him. Anyway, I figured it would be a good idea to have you introduce yourself, get to know you a little better. Meeting each other while in the middle of a monster attack wasn't exactly the best way to introduce ourselves. You know about us obviously, but we don't know a whole lot about you."

Max: "Other than the fact that you kinda suck at the obstacles."

Sam: "You'll get through them." *shoots a dirty look at Max* "I'm sure of it."

M.B.: "Well... for starters, I'm not from around here."

Sam: "Oh yeah, M.J. mentioned something about you being from a... uh.. basically another universe?"

M.B.: "My Paracosm?"

Sam: "Yeah, that. What is a Paracosm?"

M.B.: "A Paracosm is a heavily detailed imaginary world inside one's mind. To put it simply, I came from a universe that I created from my imagination."

Max: "So... you live your life daydreaming and pretend your in a fairy tale land. How... depressing."

M.B.: "I mean, not exactly. It's real, for one, at least for other universes like yours. Almost everyone has a Paracosm. They're just mini universes inside larger universes. In my Paracosm, I'm basically a goddess. I create everything within it. But when I'm outside it, my powers are extremely limited."

Sam: "Powers?"

M.B.: "Yeah! They're illusions essentially, and I can do some pretty neat stuff. I defended M.J. from Brenda one day with my powers. I totally scared the sh*t out of her! I don't think she'll ever mess with him again."

Max: "Brenda? Isn't she that snobby little b*tch that insulted my kids at school?"

Sam: "I think so. How did you scare her?"

M.B.: "I summoned a couple gremlins to chase after her and then cornered her into a massive, decaying wall of flesh where she gets bombarded by large newborn maggots."

Sam: "...."

Max: "...."

M.B.: "Oh, and I also gave myself bat wings."

[A moment of silence. Sam and Max are stunned.]

Sam: "Uh-huh... and, uh... can you still use your powers now?"

M.B.: "Yep! Here, I'll show you."

[M.B. holds her hand up and forms a tiny ball of aura in midair. Sam and Max marvel at the sight; M.B. smirks. She then bends the aura, twisting and bending it with her fingers.]

M.B.: "With this, I can make whatever I want. Although, my personal favorites are anything that's related to horror movies."

[M.B. clutches the aura tightly, focusing her attention into its light. Then the aura transforms into a Glazed McGuffin.]

Sam and Max: "Woah!"

M.B.: "Pretty cool, right?"

Sam: "So this is what Geek and M.J. we're talking about! M.B., this is incredible!"

M.B.: "Heh... I kinda kept all of this to myself at first... mainly because I thought you guys would think it's weird."

Sam: "Kid, we're talking animals that have a human, an alligator, and a fusion of our DNA as our adopted children. Not to mention all the cases we go through!"

Max: "I have a brother who's married to an eldeitch being, for God's sake!"

Sam: "What you have is not weirder than what we've seen before. It's new and we've never seen someone like you before, but in the end, we don't see you as strange."

M.B.: "Really? I guess it's just that... my Paracosm, my powers, and the whole illusion thing are kinda difficult to explain to a lot of people. So, I get anxious.... nervous about being misunderstood. So, I have to keep it to myself. Sometimes. But when Brenda was harassing M.J., I just couldn't hide it anymore. I can't stand harassment and I always wanted to be a protector of sorts. Only in my Paracosm and other universes like yours will I ever make that happen."

[Sam and Max look at each other. M.B. picks up the Glazed McGuffin, twisting it back into its aura form. She plays with it a little. Max sighs, crossing his arms and looking from the booth towards the floor.]

Max: "...."

Sam: "Max?"

Max: "Um... Lumpy... Thanks for... helping M.J. out there. And for being his and Geek's friend."

M.B.: *looks up from the aura* "You're welcome. I'm really glad to be their friend." *gently smiles*

Sam: "Wow, Max. That's the first time you became genuinely nice...."

Max: "Tell anyone about this and I will personally make you into a dog pelt so I can use you for napping, and have Lumpy as my witness."

Sam: "You crack me up, little buddy."

[murderousginger]

Cops and Robbers

Peaky Blinders story Chapter 1

Masterlist

Warnings: none. General fluff and sass.

Word count: 4,020

--- Note: I blame @blinder-secrets for her thirst photos and @imagine-that-100 for her general amazingness and telling me I have to write this. Enjoy. 😂 ---

You had been calling them your boys since you were 8. At seven, your mother had taken you to have a playdate with Ada while she talked to Polly about grown up business. Much to your mother's and Ada's dismay, you were much more interested in playing cops and robbers with the boys. 

At first, Tommy would only let you be the damsel in distress, because even back then Tommy made all the rules. You grew tired of being the damsel quickly, and had no problem voicing your opinions. 

"I could be a robber!" You insist, stamping your foot down one morning after church. 

"No you can't, robbers don't wear pretty dresses," John said, earning an elbow in his side from Arthur. 

"John's got you there, (Y/N)," Arthur said. "And why's you wanna play with us, anyhow? I bet Ada's got another doll for ya. Playing with boys is dirty work."

Tommy nods as Arthur puts John in a headlock and the mass of them get into a wrestling match.

"Robbers can wear fancy dresses if they steal them!" You exclaimed, jumping into the fray. 

Arthur let up on his grip on John once he realized you had joined the tousle and did his best to back away, but you gripped onto Tommy's shirt and went rolling on the grass, kicking and hitting until you rolled on top of him and pressed him into the dirt.

"Let me play, Tommy Shelby, or I'll tell everyone I won," you said. 

Arthur chuckled and John let out a loud laugh as Tommy's face went red.

"I only let you because you're Ada's friend and we're not supposed to hurt girls," Tommy huffed as he dumped you off of him. "If you want to play, fine, but you get to be a copper with Arthur."

"I want to be a robber!" You yelled, upset that you weren't getting your way.

"I have to be a robber, you see, because I'm too smart to be a copper," Tommy said, losing patience. "And I want John as my robber. So you get to be a copper. Maybe next time if you don't go crying to Pol."

And after that day, they were your boys. You played with them. You fought with them. And you loved them with the fierceness of your heart. They stopped Timmy McKee from bullying you at 11, and you helped them in little ways here and there, like helping Tommy get a note to a girl, or sneaking Arthur his favorite candy after he got in trouble for a fight, or even helping John with his homework a time or two. You even got Ada to join in the games a few times and became better acquainted with her. She became your confidante in things you weren't willing to tell the boys.

Your mother was unimpressed, voicing her worries to Polly about you being "boy crazy" at such a young age, but Polly just smiled and brushed her comments off.

"She's not boy crazy," Polly said before taking a drag of her cigarette. "She's power hungry. Dangerous ambition. I like that one."

Your mother had huffed but let you be, and stopped fighting it after a few choice words from Polly through the years. Your father shrugged and decided that if you wanted to adopt more brothers, you were allowed to do so. 

Polly quickly became Aunt Polly, and you became another rowdy body at the table, dirty feet and mouth wide.

The years went on and you stuck around, helping the boys with their mischief and gossiping with Ada about boys and the girls fawning over the Shelby boys. You were just as much a sister as their own blood, and they tormented you as such.

When they went off to the war, you decided to help with Finn and help run errands for Polly. With the men folk fighting, Polly was running the small illegal business Tommy had started, keeping contacts open and illegal activities flowing through Birmingham.

Before the boys returned, you had found a nice job in London working at the Sabini club. You filled drinks and kept your head down. The club was filled with drugs and debauchery but as long as you filled drinks and kept your mouth shut around the right people, you were a blessing. You were always on time and kept away from the extracurriculars that occupied and ruined many a barmaid before you. 

Sabini had gotten so fed up with barmaids being found unconscious or otherwise preoccupied with a gentleman in a dark corner that he made a rule that no one could drink on the clock. All drinks bought for the girls were to be given once their shift was over. Like drinks were the only problem. 

You kept in touch with Polly, asking about the family and letting her know how you were doing. The money from the club paid for a modest flat in Birmingham near your mum that you mostly visited when you had multiple days off and could find a ride. Otherwise you paid one of the other girls, Liza, a small fee to sleep on her couch. 

You knew the boys were back from the war, and that Tommy had reclaimed his business from Polly. You knew Tommy wanted to expand his presence and power, and his brothers were all too eager to help him along. You even knew that they must have been doing something right, because you could hear the whispers about "those Peaky Blinders" and "that gypsy Shelby family" all the way into London. You hadn't properly seen most of the family in years and yet people in Birmingham gave you respect you otherwise wouldn't have had. You talked to Polly here and there, checking in like, and you talked to Ada when you caught her. 

Ada was always busy, with her head in the clouds and a man after her heart. You left her to her daydreams and followed yours to the money that could fix almost anything. Money may not buy happiness but it helped with comforts, and that was as close as a girl like you could imagine you'd get to being happy.

The night at the club started like any other. You wore your flapper dress with gold and maroon and your matching maroon heels. You took drinks to the patron tables; quick to slink away with a smile before a hand wandered. You were getting surprisingly good at staying just out of reach and keeping a confident smile on your lips even when you wanted to hit a man with your tray.

There was never a scarcity of available girls or men, and so any wandering eye moved on rather quickly if they determined any amount of work was required. So if you smiled and slipped through the crowd confidently, you were safe from most wandering hands. 

As you went to put an order in at the bar, you noticed another set of girls gossiping while they waited on their drinks. 

"What's the news tonight, ladies?" You said, joining the two to make a circle. "A regular find a new victim? Sid skip out on his tab again?"

"How about those Blinders taking a seat in the middle of the club?" A brunette named Grace said. 

"Blinders?" You said, "In London? What are they doing here?"

"No one's asked," she giggled. "They haven't been served yet. Once Sabini finds out, I'm not sure they'll be walking out on their own two feet."

"Well then," you said with fake contemplation, "I guess I'll have to go see if I can get a tip before that happens." 

You winked at the girls as they gasped and giggled. 

"You wouldn't!" Grace said. "Oh you're so bad!"

You took your tray and with a wink and a smile you backed away from the girls and made your way to the middle of the room. You found three men sitting at a table, coats and hats still on, looking very uncomfortable as they watched the show around them. 

"John, stop gawking," Tommy's voice rumbled. "Arthur, calm down." 

You slipped past a woman sniffing drugs off of her hand and another man pressing a different girl against a nearby table as her hand inched toward his crotch. 

"If you missed me so much, you could have just asked Pol when I'd be back in Birmingham next," you said dryly. "What are you drinking before you start this fight?"

Arthur squinted at you before he tapped his hand on the table. 

"(Y/N)!" He exclaimed, "Why, I haven't seen you in years. You were just a kid."

"We all have to grow up sometime," you said, patting him on the shoulder. "Tommy, John, causing mischief as always?"

Tommy was frowning, looking at you closely, and John was frozen in his spot as you moved around the table. 

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" Tommy finally said. "Pol didn't mention you worked for Sabini." 

"She wouldn't have, though, would she Tommy?" John said. "Not unless there was good reason." 

"A girl's got to make a living," you said. "If you taught me anything, Tommy, you taught me nothing comes in the way of money or family." 

"Unless it is money or family," Tommy said. "How long have you been hiding in London?"

"About a year," you said. "Running for Pol introduced me to plenty of people, and Sabini liked that I keep my mouth shut when business comes through."

"Well then," Tommy said. "How about you get us all a round of whiskeys, and one for yourself, for this unexpected reunion?" 

"I can do that," you said evenly, "but my drink won't be able to be poured until I'm done for the night. House orders." 

"House orders?" Arthur murmured. "They got fucking in the aisles and snow in every corner but a barmaid can't get a drink?"

You shrug. John still hasn't stopped watching you, so you move closer to his side of the table.

"You're being awful quiet," you nudged, "that's not the John boy I know." 

"I can't tell if I see any of the (Y/N) I know," John said. "That dress doesn't look like anything I remember." 

His eyes move over your figure slowly, and you feel your eyebrow raise in defiance. You shimmy slightly as his eyes go from your hips to your heels. 

"Robbers can wear fancy dresses, if they steal them," you said with a smile. 

A wide smile spreads across John's face as he recognizes the statement. 

"So is that what you've been up to, (Y/N)," Tommy rumbled. "Have you been playing cops and robbers without us? Find better partners?"

"You'll always be my boys, Tommy," you said. "I think aunt Pol would tell you if I got myself tied to another wagon."

"Pol only told us not to bother you," Arthur said. "That you had your own life going and you were doing fine at it."

"Seeing as you're big enough to work for Sabini, you're big enough to answer for yourself," Tommy said, a spark in his blue eyes as he leaned his elbows on the table and lit a cigarette. "How about you come back home and be our robber again? You can barkeep at The Garrison and keep us company in the back. You'll make better than here. If Harry can't keep you, I'll pay you myself." 

"But I thought I was a copper, Tommy," you said playfully. His jaw ticked as you moved your dress to sparkle in the low light. "Remember?" 

"I'm starting to think you're too smart to be a copper, too, (Y/N)" Tommy said as he pressed his hands together and pointed at you, "but don't get a big head about it." 

"I might be amenable to that," you said, smile widening into a Cheshire grin. "Only girl to best Tommy Shelby might finally get recognition." 

Arthur chuckled, opening his arm to you. You walk over to him and he moved his hand to your waist and pats your hip as he looks over to Tommy. 

"I missed this one, Tom," he said. "Finally found a mouth that gives you a run for your money."

"That mouth still get you in trouble, yeah?" John said, leaning back in his chair and putting a leg on the table. "Hard to believe Sabini could muzzle you." 

"No one muzzles me, John boy," you said moving out of Arthur's reach as you point at John. "Is your dick still doing all your thinking?" 

John turned red and sat up as he started to scowl. Tommy and Arthur both chuckling low.

"Right, well, before too long I suspect we're going to get a visit from your boss," Tommy said, smacking the table for attention. "So you need to go quit. Don't fight me now, (Y/N), just go quit. Arthur and I have some business to attend, but John, you can take the car and take (Y/N) home in Birmingham. She's done in London. I'll talk to Harry in the morning and you can start tomorrow night. Don't," he waved at your dress, "wear that. Dress how you like, but not that."

You open your mouth to fight Tommy, only to see Sabini's men whispering in the back. You close your mouth and nod, gripping your tray. 

"Looks like you have less time than you thought. I'll be outside in ten minutes, John boy." 

You walk quickly back to the bar and find Liza, the girl you stay with, and let her know you won't be staying any longer. You say goodbye to a few of the girls and with a few hugs, you slip into the back to get your coat and bag. You stop at the bar and tell bartender Jack that you quit, deciding to let him tell whoever else needs to know. 

"I'm done, Jack," you said. "I'm going back home." 

Jack looks confused before getting angry and raising his hands. 

"But you're my best girl, (Y/N)!" He tells over the music as he throws glasses into the sink. "You're the only one that's not distracted by snow or dick."

"You'll find a new best girl, Jack" you say walking backwards toward the door before turning your back and walking away. "Get 'em off the snow and they're all your best girls!"

You shrug your coat on the rest of the way before looking around the exit and noticing three men surrounding the Shelby table and voices getting louder. 

"Now's not the time to test your fighting skills, (Y/N)," John said as he hooks arms with you and walks you out of the building at a dizzying pace. 

"What's the rush?" You asked, being towed along in your heels. 

"Tommy's about to take over," John said matter of fact-ly, ushering you toward a car parked near the front. 

"I'd get your door but you're not a girl," John teases, opening his own door and jumping in. 

You open the door and barely slide in before he's turned the car on and started moving forward. 

You jump as a loud crash comes from the club and the music stops. All you hear is Arthur yelling into the mic "by orders of the PEAKY FUCKING BLINDERS." 

John laughs as you slam your door shut and you take off into the night to return to Birmingham. 

As the club got farther away, John settled into his seat. He cleared his throat. 

"I didn't even ask if you needed to pick up anything…" he said, leaving the statement open.

"I don't have much at Liza's, and she can keep most of it," you said, planning your purse on the floorboards and opening your long coat. "Anything I'm missing too bad I can always write or come get."

"Hmm," John sounded. 

"Hmm," you mimicked back.

A silence filled the car. 

"Alright, John," you said as you took your coat off. "I'm still me. You're still you. It's been a few years, but for fucks sake, relax." 

John exhaled a chuckle before bumping your shoulder. 

"Still read me like a book, I see," he said. 

"Still haven't picked up a book, I see," you said as you bumped back. 

"I let Tommy do the thinking," John shot back. "Tommy's the brains, Arthur's the brawn…"

"And you use your Shelby blues to whore any girl that'll have you," you sang back, crinkling your nose, "I see things haven't changed."

"You have," John huffed back. "When did you become a girl?"

"I've always been a girl, John boy," you spat back, "you've just been too dumb to notice." 

John laughs and you lay your head on his shoulder, squeezing his arm. 

"Might've missed this," you whisper right before you let out a yawn. 

"Yeah? Well curl up there and take a nap," John said. "I'll get us home." 

"Okay, John boy," you said as you curled your legs up on the chair and leaned on him more. "I am a little sad I couldn't get that drink with my boys. Maybe tomorrow."

"Maybe," John sounded.

---

"(Y/N), wake up," John whispered as she gently shook you. "We made it back to the garage. I need to walk you home."

You whimper and try to dig yourself more into his shoulder, not wanting to wake. John chuckles and lightly taps your jaw.

"Rise and shine," he sung playfully.

"Why couldn't you have just driven me home?" You whine, finally moving off of his shoulder. 

"Because," John said and stepped out of the car. "Tommy's got a bottle of whiskey hidden in the garage. Thought you wanted that drink."

Your eyes shot open as you tried to wake up.

"Whiskey?" You murmured.

"Thought that would wake you," he said, pulling a half empty bottle from behind some things and shook it at you. 

"Just one," you said, trying not to rub your eyes and ruin your makeup. "One. Then home."

"Ohhh," John razzed. "Spoil sport. That's not my fun (Y/N)." 

"Last time Harry saw me I was a teen getting my da from the Garrison because he was too drunk to walk home by himself and mum was a mess," you said, getting out of the car with your bag and fixing your dress. "I'd prefer I be a little put together for my first day working for him."

"How is your da, speaking of?" John asked as he held the bottle out to tease you, "and your mum?"

"Passed," you said flatly, reaching for the bottle. John's smile faultered, letting the bottle dip into your hands. "Pa, at least. The war. Mum works at the washer. I help out." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. 

You shrug, taking the cap off the bottle. 

"We all lost something in the war," you said before taking a long drag from the bottle. 

"You're still as wild as ever," John said, nudging the bottle up until whiskey splashed down your chin. You gulped and lowered the bottle quickly as you dabbed the whiskey with your wrist.

"And you're still as much trouble," you said, licking the whiskey from your lips. 

John tilted his head, watching you closely for a moment in the dark garage. You watched him back, eyebrow quirked in a question. He squinted before taking a step forward and reached out to wipe a bead of whiskey from your chin and put his finger in his mouth. 

"Only as much trouble as you're willin'," he said in a low tone before taking the bottle from you and taking a big swig himself. 

"John boy," you said, taking the bottle back for another swig. "What are you doing? I know all your tricks. I helped you make a few of them."

"Thought you said you just wanted one drink," he taunted back, a boyish grin spreading across his face in triumph.

You take a deep drink and hum as you hand it back to him, watching him take one last drink before putting the cap back on and setting it on the ground near the car. 

"I need to be drunk if you're going to try me," you said smiling as you walk backward out of the garage, motioning for John to walk you home. 

"So's you're giving me a chance," John said as he tried to keep a serious face before laughing and looking down. 

He kicked a rock at his feet before looking back up at you. You raised your hand, beckoning him to come to you. Every step he moved forward, you stepped back, grin widening as you let out a giggle. 

"How about this," you said, a finger raised to stop him as you stepped out of your maroon heels. "Take your boots off. We do this as we've done before. First to the street wins."

"Wins what?" John asked, already leaning down to untie his boots. 

You pick up your heels to place them in your bag and realize you left your coat in the car as a breeze outside of the garage makes you shiver. 

"Wins the choice of if you get to kiss me goodnight or not," you said, watching John's eyes light up as he struts to your side with his boots in hand. 

He gives the slightest nod and you're already running down the gravel driveway, laughing far too loud in the dead of night, but you don't care because John is right behind you laughing just as loud. 

You both race on the gravel, too busy laughing to complain about the pain. You can hear him right behind you as you feel a warm hand circle your waist and pick you up, spinning you around so he's the first to the road. 

"No fair!" You shriek, kicking and twisting in his arms.

"You didn't give any rules!" He laughs back, putting you down once both of his feet are flatly on the road. You pout as John sets you down on the gravel, a big smile on his face. 

"I win," he said in the cocky tone you've heard him use on so many girls before. 

"You cheated," you retorted.

"You expected more from a Shelby?" He said, eyebrow cocked as he mocked you. 

"Shut up and take me home," you said, defeated. 

John laughed and took off his coat, encircling you in the smell of tobacco and warmth. He held his arm out for you to take and begin your walk down to your home. 

"I'm just a few down from mum," you said. 

"Why don't you live with her?" He asked, chewing on his lip.

"After I started taking more jobs with Pol, she decided what I was doing wasn't 'lady-like' and would hurt my chances at a husband. Said I couldn't live under her roof if I wanted to work like a man, so aunt Pol found me a spot down the road." 

"Yer mum can be a right bitch," John said, causing you to laugh. 

"You don't know the half of it," you say, squeezing his arm. 

"We all turned out alright," he said. 

"We did," you agreed. 

You walk in comfortable silence until you get to your doorstep. You let go of his arm and go to give him his coat but he stops you. 

"I'll get it 'morrow," he said, shuffling his feet. "Gotta get yours back, anyway." 

You nod, not sure what to do. You fumble your bag, reaching for your keys. John clears his throat, stepping forward.

"I think I won a choice earlier," he said, nose to nose with you. 

"You did," you said breathlessly. John smirks, looking you in the eye before licking his lips and looking at yours. He leans in and you freeze to the spot as his lips barely graze yours.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," John whispered against your lips, raising every hair on your body. 

John turned around, shit-eating grin on his face as he trudged back to the house. You exhale, frustrated. 

"Goodnight John!" You yelled. 

All you hear is his deep chuckle somewhere in the dark.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

WIRED

Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Y/N L/N and Chris Evans filmed a movie together and are asked to answer the Web’s Most Searched Questions. Pretty straight forward right?

Author’s Note: It’s 6:17 am here in California and I just wanted to make this, I woke up at 9 pm and I didn’t fall back asleep.

Love you!

~~~~

“Don’t touch me!” Y/N playfully slaps Chris’s arm as he laughs, “Oh, now you don’t want me to?” He asked, “You just get all sour on me now?” Chris turns to the man behind the camera. “Maybe she just didn’t get her coffee,” Chris mutters.

Y/N laughs. “Okay, let’s do our intro.”

“Who goes first? You? Me?” He asks, he shakes his head, “You go, you go,” He waves his hand. Y/N shakes her head, turning to the camera with a board in hand. “Hey fans, my name is Y/N L/N.”

Chris laughs, “Hi, and I’m Chris Evans. And we’re about to do a WIRED autocomplete interview.”

“Who should go first, you?”  Y/N asks, Chris points to the board, “It has your name on it, so here, I’ll take it and you peel them off.”

“Aw, what a gentleman,” Y/N says, Chris turns to the camera witha childish smile, “I know. I am, am I?” He says. 

“I just peel them off?” Chris nods, “Yep, just rip them off.” Y/N takes the edge of the strip. “Who Y/N L/N...” She tilts her head, “Wow, lacking some words there.” She rips it off.

“Who Y/N L/N look like?” The woman looks at the camera, “You’re looking right at her, people.” Chris laughs. Y/N smiled and reached for another, “Who was Y/N L/N...” Rip. “...date at the Oscars?” Y/N smiles.

“Uh, my first Oscars was my dad, he was happy to be there in 2010. I had my mom, my sibling and then my recent two were Chris Evans. And Chris Evans, he’s a very nice guy.” Chris nods, “Hm. I should meet that guy,” He says.

Y/N nods, “Yeah, you should.” Y/N reaches for the next, “Who is Y/N L/N... sibling?”

“I have a brother/sister, their name is S/N and I’m the oldest sibling and I love them.” Y/N takes the board and throws it behind them. “Next, where’s this guys board at?” Y/N asks. The camera man hands her the board. 

“Who Chris Evans,” Y/N starts, holding the board, “Peel them off. Rip ‘em.” Chris grabs the strip, “Who Chris Evans look like?” He asks. Y/N nods, “He looks like Scott Evans, just a bit more taller and more shoulder mass.”

Chris chuckles, “When I was younger some people used to tell me I looked like Ricky Nelson.”

“Oh, yeah. You do,” Y/N nods. Chris reaches for the next strip, “Who Chris Evans date at the Oscars-Wow! Similar questions,” Chris says. Y/N laughs. “Well, it was my ma one year and then my sister. Then I had Y/N L/N at the Oscars with me.”

“Oh wow. How was she at the Oscars?” Y/N asked, Chris smiles, reaching for the next strip, “She was beautiful, would love to take her as a date again.” Chris rips the next one off. “What Chris Evans dog’s name?” Chris smiles. “His name is Dodger, he’s a mixed-breed boxer, I got him in the year of 2017 when I was filming with Mckenna Grace on the set of Gifted. I adopted him. Mostly I call him Bubba, that just... is what I say a lot.”

Y/N throws the board back. “Another!” Y/N takes the next board and Chris holds it. “All right. What is Y/N L/N...” Y/N rips the strip, “Like?” She hums. “I mean, I rather not describe myself I think it’s better for someone to say who I am in person.”

“She’s funny, gorgeous, good sense of humor, she’s just out of her comfort zone,” Chris says, Y/N laughs grabbing his shoulder. “Are you saying that I’m crazy?” She asked. Chris laughs, “No, I’m just saying you’re so outgoing!”

Y/N laughs, “You’re cute, let me continue. What is Y/N L/N... favorite food?” Y/N cranes her neck to think.

“I have a lot of food that I like. I make it a lot sometimes.”

“Y/N does make some good food. But pesto eggs, oh! You make the best out of them!” Chris says, Y/N laughs. “I’m not really much of a cooker, I just am really hungry! I might just have to go with pizza.”

Chris nods, “All right. All right. Good choice. She doesn't make pizza but that’s something.” Y/N rips the strip with a laugh. “What is Y/N L/N’s first movie?”

“Was it Casper, right? In 1995? You were fifteen,” Chris asks, Y/N shakes her head. “I actually at the age of ten filmed in Home Alone in 1990,” Chris drops his shoulders. “What? You didn’t tell me that!” Chris says.

“I thought you’d know, I’m famous, you don’t look me up?” Y/N laughs with Chris, “No, I don’t because I should hear it from you!” He laughs, “Talking is better to know someone than to know them from a website.” Y/N leans forward in laughter as she hides her face on his shoulder. 

He looks at the camera, “I didn’t know you worked with Macaulay Culkin! That was-Oh!” Chris claps his hands, he laughs against her.

“How did I not know you were one of the kids? Now I remember who you were!” He grabs his left boob laughing. Y/N pulls away from his shoulder and wipes the tear under her eye, “Gosh, we can’t even read the last one. We still have to do you!”

“What is Y/N L/N’s boyfriend look like?” Y/N looks up at Chris. “He looks like Ricky Nelson.” Chris laughs. Chris throws the board behind him. “All right!” Y/N pulls out another board. “Here’s another, babes.”

Chris looks at it, “Did Chris Evans... rip a log in half?” Chris shrugs at the thought. “I mean...”

“Yes, he did,” Y/N says, Chris smirks, “Yeah. I mean, it was made out of styrofoam? I don’t know, it’s nobody’s business,” Chris shrugs. “Did Chris Evans... quit acting?”

Y/N holds her hand out to him, “He’s right here.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He says. Y/N smiled, “Another one.” Chris looks over to the board again, “Does Chris Evans drive?” Chris smiles, “Like a champ. I have speeding tickets to prove it!” Y/N laughs.

“Does Chris Evans have a brother?” Chris says, he nods. “Yes, he does. Funny guy, love him,” Y/N says.

“His name is Scott. He’s very talented, very funny.” Y/N throws the board behind her. “I’ll clean that up later,” She said, Chris chuckles. “This is really fun, I like these questions,” She hands Chris her board. “They are pretty fun. We learn about each other, I guess, since you didn’t tell me you filmed in Home Alone-”

“Hey, I thought you knew! Stop it!” Y/N playfully hits him. “Where did Y/N L/N grow up?” Y/N asks, she turns to the camera, “I grew up in my home,” She says, causing Chris to laugh. “That’s true.”

Y/N reaches for the next strip, “Where did Y/N L/N start acting? Oh, that’s a good one,” Y/N says, “When I was young, at the age of 9, my mom and dad moved us to New York and I managed to start auditioning for films and I ended up in my first movie, Home Alone and so I started acting in New York.”

Chris grins, “Last one. I think-”

“Yep. Where is Y/N L/N today? Huh? Weird question but I’m here. That’s where I am now,” Chris laughs as he drops the board down. “Okay, this is our last one!” Y/N says, Chris grabs the board and hands it to Y/N.

“Do the honors, babes,” Y/N says, Chris looks at it. “Does Chris Evans actually sing?”

“Yes! He does!” Y/N says, pointing at the camera, “He may reject this fact but he does sing! He sings me to bed sometimes,” Y/N says. Chris laughs, “I do not sing her to bed, she actually does.” Y/N laughs.

“Can Chris Evans tap dance?” Chris asked, Y/N smiles, “That I can do. I can’t sing, but I can tap dance.”

“You’re gonna have to show me some tap dances. You dance like the penguin from Happy Feet that’s why he’s cute when he does them.”

“I can do some soft shoe in the hallway after this camera turns off,” He mutters, reaching for the next one. “Can Chris Evans drive?-What is going on with me and driving? Yes! I can drive very well! I’m a grown up,” Y/N laughs as she leans against him.

“That was some good questions,” Y/N says. Chris nods,  Nailed it! Give me five, babe,” Chris holds up his hand to her and she gladly high fives him.

“Yes!” 

~~~~~~~~~~

RANDOM TAGS (even though they’re the same people I’ve tagged multiple times) : @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @jtargaryen18​ @luvinchris​ @chris-evans-imagines​

Want a tag? Just ask, I’ll be happy to tag you!

[storiesforallfandoms]

the horror ~ ben hargreeves;the umbrella academy

word count: 1454

request?: yes!

“Hi I was wondering if I could request a Ben Hargreeves imagine from Umbrella Academy. I love that show and ben but I feel like he needs more love. Could you please do something that's just really cute and sweet. I need more imagines of that boy. Thank you ❤”

description: after another mission, ben comes to see you to confide in you his hatred of his powers

pairing: ben hargreeves x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

You were watching the news as they reported of yet another crime that was thwarted by the Umbrella Academy. The six siblings that you knew well stood behind their adopted father as he spoke to the press about his “incredibly gifted children”, each of them wearing their uniforms and their white eyed masks. You couldn’t help but scowl at the vile man who had the audacity to call himself a “father” to those kids.

You had known the Umbrella Academy since you were all kids. You had met Klaus first during one of his multiple attempts at running away from home, which led you to slowly meet the rest of the group. You became their only friend outside the walls of the Academy, a secret friend for a long time since they weren’t really allowed to even leave the house unsupervised.

The world saw the Umbrella Academy as a family of gifted heroes that were going to save the world. You saw them for what they really were, sad, scared, abused kids that just wanted to live normal lives and to escape from their father.

As the news report was coming to an end, there was a knock at your door. You went to answer it to find Ben standing there, dressed in all black with his hood pulled up and his head hung.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey. Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course!”

You stepped aside, allowing Ben to enter your home. Another secret that the two of you held, except this one was held from both his father and his siblings, was that the two of you had been in a relationship for some time. When the siblings were allowed to get more freedom, Ben started to come visit you more often than the others. You spent more time together than you did with the others. Before you knew it, the two of you were stealing kisses when his siblings weren’t looking, and he was sneaking out to spend the night at your place.

He also snuck out to see you after missions. As of late, it was becoming harder and harder for him to participate in the missions with his siblings. He hated to have to use his powers, and often tried fighting against going on missions, but there was no use in fighting it. Eventually, he was made to go and made to use them anyways.

Ben walked past you and sat down on your couch. He pulled his hands from his pockets and you could see that they were still a bit red, whether it was from the blood of whoever it was he had to fight or from scrubbing them raw to get the blood off you weren’t sure. You moved to sit next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I really can’t do this anymore,” he sighed. “But I have no way out. Everyone knows who I am, they’ll recognize me in the street. If I run away it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m back again. And no one will listen to me, not even my siblings who insist that they’ve had enough with what we’re doing, too. They keep saying that I have to go with them because they can’t complete their missions without me, I’m the winning weapon or some shit. No one listened to me.”

He buried his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him to you, allowing him to let his frustration and sadness out.

“It’s okay,” you said as you ran your hands through his hair, soothingly. “I know, it doesn’t seem like you have an out. But you’re an adult, all your siblings are, you’re able to get away from Hargreeves if you truly want to, you all just have to band together and finally walk away from him.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know if any of them want to,” Ben said, raising his head to look at you. You could see his eyes were pink from tears. “Luther definitely doesn’t, he’s dad’s number one. He does everything dad asks, if dad asked him to jump off of a bridge he’d have it done before the sentence was out of his mouth. Alison wants to leave but wants Luther to go with her, which will never happen, Diego doesn't seem to be ready to take on the real world yet, Klaus is always so fucked up that none of us want him to leave in case he ODs by himself and he doesn’t make it, and Vanya...well...she’s the only one brave enough to leave, but none of us really seemed to care.”

“They have to see how this is taking a toll on you. Your powers aren’t like theirs, you’re literally harbouring actual monsters inside of you that come out when you’re on missions. That’s not something that’s easy to deal with.”

Ben shook his head. “They don’t care. Whatever gets us to end a mission sooner, which usually is by me unleashing the monsters and attacking the bad guys. But they don’t experience that. They don’t see how fucking harrowing it is to watch these people, even if they’re bad people, die because the only solution they have to finishing a mission is to unleash some monsters on them.”

You didn’t really know what to say. It wasn’t the first time Ben had come to you to talk about his powers and his family, and every time it seemed like he was getting worse and worse.

Of course, to you, the best solution was to just leave. You had offered him a place to stay on many occasions, and promised not to tell anyone that he was there, until he could find other arrangements. But you knew it wasn’t that easy. Not while the other siblings were still under Hargreeves’ thumb. As long as he still had control over the other five siblings, he was going to have a reason to go after Ben. Ben was, arguably, his most powerful child. He wouldn’t let him go without a fight.

“The press has names for all of us,” Ben said, looking down at his lap again. “They call me The Horror. Imagine being called that, The Horror. They even make me sound like a fucking monster. People have been speculating what my powers really are online, what kind of monster I become, and how dangerous I am in real life. They all think that I’m some sort of Jekyll and Hyde type of person, that I can go from being myself to being a monster like a flick of a switch. Maybe they’re right, maybe I am a monster.”

“No!” you said, startling Ben with the seriousness of your tone. “No, you are not a monster. No matter what your powers are, they don’t make you a monster. You’re a kind, caring person. You don’t want to do the things you do, but you’re forced to do so by your family. You feel like you’re trapped there, and I understand that. I’m not about to force you to leave your family if you don’t think it’ll be best, or you don’t feel safe doing so. But don’t ever call yourself a monster, Ben Hargreeves. Because you are far from it.”

Ben smiled at you, just a small smile but it was enough to warm your heart. He gently cupped your face and brought you to him, kissing your just as gently. You held him tightly, never wanting to let him go. You just wanted to keep him there for a long time, to never let him return to his terrible father and that awful Academy. It was a nice dream, but you knew it would never become a reality. Not anytime soon, anyways.

“You’re way too good to me,” he sighed as he rested his forehead against yours. “How did I ever come to deserve such an amazing person like you?”

“You always deserved me,” you told him. “You deserve to be happy, Ben.”

He nodded, although you could tell he still wasn’t believing you too much. You kissed him again before asking, “Why don’t you stay over for the night? Just to get away from the others for a while. You can call them and tell them you won’t be home tonight if you don’t want to tell them exactly where you are.”

Ben smiled, this time it reached his eyes. He kissed your nose and hugged you again.

“I’d love that, baby.”

You pulled away and took his face in your hands, making him look at you. “I love you more than anything.”

“I know, and I love you, too, (Y/N).”

Kinda short, but I hope you still like it!

[llendrinall]

Here's a prompt for you.

Draco and Harry are dating and taking it slow (no one is aware & they started dating after the both of them had begun to go to therapy and heal a bit) and while they've together for a year (now its not somethin that either of them hide but they also dont go out and pronounce anything) they find an orphanage in the muggle world and they hang out with the kids and end up falling inlove with between 1-4 of the kids over time and both the Weasley's and Malfoy's find out about their relationship when they show up with their newly adopted child/ren.

"I thought you knew we were together"

"We thought you were becoming friends Harry!"

Draco saw the kid first. Not that it matters, but Harry claims that it was all his idea when, in truth, Draco saw the kid first and immediately knew what was going to happen. This is Harry, after all. Draco could have distracted Harry, insist they took the other exit of the restaurant, anything. But he did none of that because (don’t tell anyone this) Draco Malfoy might have a heart of his own and he was curious about the kid sitting under a lamppost with a book.

His names is Liam and he was doing homework. There is a lounge in the orphanage where, theoretically, children can do their homework. But the place is very noisy and there are some older kids who pick on Liam. Unless it’s raining heavily, Liam prefers to be outside where he can have some peace. He could go to the library and he usually takes refuge there, but it closes early on Fridays.

They had just had dinner, but they go back to the restaurant so Liam can work at a table where is warm and well lighted. The waitress gets Liam extra bacon in his sandwich and doesn’t charge them for it.

Harry surprises Draco because he doesn’t immediately take Liam with him, even though it’s clear that’s what he wants to do. He does say he would like to visit Roberta Clark’s Children Home and looks softly pleased when Draco says he will go with him.

They have been together for almost a year now, soft and tentative and careful because they both want this and are afraid to ruin it with a false step. They have just started to talk about living arrangements, although in a very vague way. Tonight, however, Draco begins a ruthless campaign against Harry’s house which is well located in London, yes, but it doesn’t have a garden unlike Draco’s house in Virginia Water, and it has one less room than Draco’s (not accounting for the music room), and it’s very dark. Draco can’t imagine children growing up happy here. Poor Sirius. And poor Regulus.

Harry is pissed, which is further proof that he needs Draco in his life because, Morgana, is he easy to read and manipulate.

That Thursday the two of them visit Roberta Clark’s Children Home where they are welcomed by the rudest social worker to ever plague the Earth. The deputy Director isn’t much better. She doesn’t like it when Harry points they have mold on the walls, all twenty-three times.

(This is one of the many reasons Draco loves him. For a hero of the light, Harry is a terror).

Draco walked in there knowing fully well they were going to adopt Liam, hence his campaign for the Virginia Water’s house because no child of his will grow up in Grimmauld Place. Children who grow up in Grimmauld Place become unhappy adults who die before their time. Draco thought that maaaaybe Harry still believed he was only going to show an interest in the institution and hand them money to improve the living conditions; but Draco knew there was no way Harry would leave Liam in there. The kid is eleven! An orphan! Harry can lie to himself all he wants. He will be Liam’s legal father inside a month.

What Draco didn’t expect was to get a child of his own.

Her name is Jamie, JamieTheGirl. There is a boy named Jamie and simply Jamie, not JamieTheBoy, because Jamie is a boy’s name. This is explained to Draco in a rush, with a mixture of pain and bratty attitude that speaks to him directly. JamieTheGirl hates her name, her haircut, the horrible dress she is forced to wear and Mister Gladwell, who is the rude social worker. JamieTheGirl wanted to know if Liam is lying, because Liam said he knew them (them being Draco and Harry) but Liam is eleven and everybody knows that nobody wants kids older than ten. Seven is best. JamietheGirl is nine so she could still be adopted, but she has been informed by multiple sources that nobody will ever want her because a) she has a bad attitude, b) she has a boy’s name and c) she is not cute enough.

“My name is Draco,” is all Draco can say. He is already vowing to hunt down those multiple sources who told Jamie she was less than perfect. “It’s not a bad name but it’s not a good one either.”

JamieTheGirl agrees.

Now that they are going to adopt two children it’s all the more reason to live in the Virginia Water’s house, which has more room and a very nice garden. They can always apparate the kids to their school in London. If Harry refuses to apparate (sometimes Harry exhibits some very weird ideas about magic and luxury) Draco will get a car. Not even a magical car, and actual muggle car. He will buy one and take the kids to school. Actually, they should go tomorrow to check the house and start the arrangements.

Harry stares at Draco. He is sitting on the kitchen counter in his stupid house in Grimmauld Place, eating Chinese food from the box as if he weren’t a filthy rich man, hero of the wizarding world. Draco loves him so much.

“What do you mean adopt?” Harry says.

“Oh, like this was going to go any other way.” Draco says, rolling his eyes. If the place had merely been overcrowded and noisy Harry would have contented himself to play the benefactor role and pay for renovations. But there was mold in twenty-three spots, the social worker made Snape look charming and evidently none of the adults in charge had any idea of what the children were going through and, even worse, what they were getting up to.

Draco knows Harry. It is a mere question of how quickly they can get the paperwork ready.

“I’m still going to do something about the place.” Harry argues, of course he does. He won’t simply take a kid and forget about the rest. But he is already thinking of all the wonderful things he will teach Liam. Draco can see it in his eyes.

They get married two weeks later, for the paperwork, but in essence they got married that night when Draco laid the rest of their lives before them and Harry realized that Draco knew him better than himself and that he still wanted to be with him.

They move to the Virginia Water’s house in early January. Liam can’t believe that he has been adopted, so he takes the fact that they are both wizards in stride. The adoption is much harder to believe than the fact that people can do actual magic. Also, he has his own room. His. With a door that he can close. The fact that he doesn’t have to hide his books so they won’t be stolen takes enough of Liam’s attention that he can’t worry about such unimportant things as magic.

JamieTheGirl is both easier and harder. She is easier because she desperately wanted to be out of the Children’s Home, and harder because she is naturally distrustful and very intelligent. Not to say that Liam is not distrustful or smart, but he is old enough to be jaded. Liam expects something bad to happen and he is willing to take it. He, like Harry, is stupid enough to believe that he can take new abuse if he also gets some comfort in exchange.

(note: Draco is going to piss on Dumbledore’s grave).

The first month is difficult, but once both Liam and JamieTheGirl act out and see there are no bad consequences, that they are not beaten or returned to the Children’s Home, they settle happily. JamieTheGirl asks to have her name changed, please, she will take a constellation name if they want to, just let her have a different name. They are enrolled in a new school and Draco buys a car and hires a chauffeur who happens to be a squib and there is no need for Harry to look at him that way.

Things are good.

It’s cold outside, the garden is dry and ugly, it rains nonstop for two weeks… but everything is good and nice. If Sean were here he would have something interesting to say about it. Everything in Sean is ugly, but he knows how to take the painful things and make them sweet, and he would know how to put into words that the world outside the house is ugly right now, but it’s also nice.

Draco feels Harry go rigid at the same time as him. “Who?” Draco says calmly just as Harry asks “What?”.

Sean is an ugly case. He was adopted when he was eight but he was returned a few months later. Nobody knows why although there is a lot of speculation. He often got himself beaten in school and once by Mister Murphy (“Who?”, “It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t work there anymore”, “Give me a detailed description of Mister Murphy, please”.) He is fifteen now so nobody will adopt him and Mister Gladwell says he will amount to nothing. Despite what Mrs Oxley says (Mrs Oxley is the deputy Director) Sean is not a criminal. He goes with bad people, sure, but he never stole Liam’s books and he even showed him a couple of hiding places. He is not bad at all.

On Friday they welcome Sean home. Just at the same time Mr Gladwell, Mrs Oxley, Mr Murphy and a criminal gang from the South Bank all suffer completely coincidental and unrelated accidents.

Sean is a young criminal. He is tough and hard, actively cultivating a mean strike and horrifyingly traumatized.

He is also deeply protective of Liam and Jamie. It’s heartbreaking.

Fortunately, Harry was also deeply traumatized at his age. It’s a horrible thought to have, but for once Harry is grateful for all that pain because he knows how Sean feels, he understands, and he can help.

No, Sean can’t have a wand or try magic. Yes, he still has to go to school. No, he can’t take the car. No, no smoking and no drinking either. Come along, you are going to take fighting classes.

Which might seem counter-productive. Do not teach the young delinquent to fight, yadda, yadda. Harry spent all of his fifteen year wanting to punch someone and Sean has this freaked-out look in the eyes that says he doesn’t trust Harry or Draco and that he wants to protect Jamie and Liam. The fighting classes make him feel more in control and they mellow him. Also, by the third time Draco has a tiff and demands to talk to the headmaster about Liam’s class placement, his math grades, Jamie’s English grades, and just-what-did-that-woman-insinuate-I-swear; something visibly relaxes in Sean.

(Not even Liam knows what his Biology teacher said that upset Draco. The next week they have the lovely Miss Quintrell instead and the whole class is happy so Liam doesn’t question it).

And suddenly it’s March and Ron’s birthday and there is a celebration at the Burrow. Harry arrives with his family and a well-structured explanation of how he is now the legal father of Sean, Liam and Possibly-Berenice (they are still trying names). He is really good at it. He gives a simple step by step account of the process, with helpful asides and clarifying details, everything. There is just this one thing. A small detail, really. An assumption that is not supported by reality.

“Mate, I’m very happy for you,” Ron says. “We all are. But, you never mentioned you were dating Malfoy and I believe I speak for everyone when I say it’s a shock.”

And, to be fair, nobody can say they are actually surprised that Harry showed up with three orphans. But Malfoy, well… Malfoy is something else. They thought Harry was merely befriending him, or possibly adopting him like he tried to do with Neville. The dating thing is a big mental shift.

“We are married,” Draco says, and then, at their stares, more quietly, “it was more convenient? For the paperwork?”.

There is a lot of “Harry Potter you did not get married without telling us” and “Harry Potter how could you just get married without a ceremony” and “you know we have been developing these party fireworks how could you do this to us” and Molly red-faced, waving a finger, “did you tell your parents, young man?” and it takes everyone, everyone, thirty seconds to realize she is not addressing Harry, but Draco, and Merlin’s pants, he did not, he didn’t tell them. Draco married Harry, moved with him and adopted three kids and his father doesn’t know, which goes a long way to ingratiate Draco with everyone, because Lucius Malfoy has not heard of this.

It also has the unexpected but very welcome benefit of making Sean laugh. Liam says Sean hasn’t laughed in years.

(And of course less than a month later the three kids have a hand-knit sweater, of course they do. Possibly-Berenice’s has a pattern of stars, pending her choosing a permanent name).

[samwrights]

I’m sorry but ukai with a breeding kink😳yes PLEASE

I swear I saw another ask that asked for Ukai with an impreg kink

*ahem* anyways—WOW this one was a doozy but holy shit did I have fun writing it. 11k words you guys. 11. K. It is a lot so grab some cocoa or coffee and a blanket because this is a read. It even has to be split into two parts because I hit the fucking text limit, BUT this also means there is no actual smut in this portion. You can find that here.

If you guys need some ear candy, I recommend the following:

Day N Nite (Crooker’s Remix) by Kid Cudi

Pursuit of Happiness (Extended version with Steve Aoki) by Kid Cudi

Breaking Me by Topic

C’Mon by Ke$ha

Flannel by The Cardboard Swords (it has to be sad somewhere)

Magic in the Hamptons by Social House

Fun fact: Ke$ha was actually the primary inspiration for this fic and for DJ!Ukai. God bless her.

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

Without further ado, please enjoy the filthy depths of my brain followed by a relatively happy ending that I’ve titled, “Between the Lines’” :-)

“You’ve been more tired lately, and you’re showing up right when practice starts. Is everything okay?” Was the question that Takeda had asked Ukai Keishin that haunted him for years to come. Sure, he had wanted to gain more independence from his parents, wanted to start being more adult-like and take over the mortgage and the bills so his parents could finally rest. At the age of twenty-six, it seemed like a good idea at the time. With four years passing, however, Keishin was so damn tired, but it wasn’t like he could just stop working.

He was still tending to crops every morning, tending to the shop, coaching for Karasuno, but in the four years time, he had adopted one more job on the weekends—Ukai Keishin was a local nightclub DJ. He’d discovered the job opportunity one fateful night that he was out with his friends from the neighborhood association. To this day, he was still unsure of why he was approached with the job, especially considering he didn’t know the first thing about being a DJ, but the woman who had offered him the position had taught him everything he needed to know.

It turned out that he had a natural affinity for the position, seeing as he was still at it years later under the alias Spira. Ukai kept telling himself that he would quit the gig eventually because there was no way he could continue working four jobs—it was inhuman and the money didn’t even really matter to him. Okay, that last one is a lie; his DJ gig has been a substantial contributor to his savings funds to the point where he was even able to afford a newer, larger, (and slightly) used SUV in full compared to his tiny, old yellow beater. Even his mortgage bills were starting to look less daunting with the current cash flow.

Who needs sleep anyway? Ukai survived and thrived off of nicotine and caffeine anyway. Besides, sleep was the last thing on his mind whenever he set foot into the club. It was impossible to think of anything other than the writhing bodies of sweaty, young adults that were already drunk or high or were practically fucking each other with their clothes on. Perhaps that was part of the reason Keishin felt the need to quit this job—he was envious. Envious of the fact that he never got to indulge in his youth like these kids did; he started working and helping his family out right away after college. Sure, he went out here and there, but these twenty-something-year-olds were living their best life, while he was thirty and catering to their whims.

To say he was a bit bitter would be an understatement.

Bitterness aside, however, it did him good to see the youth enjoying exactly that—their youth. They got to do as they pleased between exams and becoming functioning members of society and, while he was jealous, Ukai was proud to be able to contribute to their pleasure.

He’d arrived to the club early, as he often did, to try to grab a drink before he was due for stage time. Ukai was thankful the bartenders knew him enough that he didn’t have to verbally order considering the music was too loud to hear him in the first place. A rum and coke manifests itself in a small, plastic cup that the blonde raises in thanks before weaving and bobbing around the various partygoers. For the most part, he’s successful in dodging the flailing bodies as he mutely notes the very upbeat remix of some female pop artist playing.

But only remotely successful as Keishin attempts to salvage his drink from spilling as he raises it over his head as one of the partygoers is pushed into him. “Hey, careful!” He snaps toward the younger, [hair color]ed woman. She only looks half-offended by the scolding, but otherwise unperturbed. If anything, the dominating expression on her face was confusion.

“Coach Ukai?” He’s surprised to hear both his given name and his title, let alone coming from a club patron, as they all knew him as Spira. Recognition slips his mind entirely—he’s never met this girl in any way that he can remember. Certainly, he would never forget crossing paths with this beauty, even if she was dressed in a similarly juvenile fashion to the other ravers. Tight crop top tee cinched together by a knot at the midriff, with army green high-waisted shorts attempting to cover the bare skin, face painted with makeup, glitter, and sweat; even underneath the garb, she brought forth no recollection. “Uh, d-do you remember me?” It’s a challenge to hear over the music, but she presses forward close enough that her lips are right in Keishin’s ear.

“Can’t say that I do,” he yells right back into hers.

“Karasuno class of twenty-twelve, I was Sugawara’s girlfriend.” Oh.

Oh.

Now he remembered, vaguely, but he doesn’t ever remember her looking like this. The last four years had been incredibly kind to her, in more ways than one. Back in her Karasuno days, [name] had always looked pleasant, for lack of better term. But there was always a lifeless, matted, dull glaze to her eyes that screamed she was searching for something more. While it was still somewhat present, there was a substantial joyous air around her. It looked good on her. However, as much as Ukai wanted to stay and admire, he had to go get set up for the evening. Or rather, that was the excuse he used when he said he would catch her after the show. “[name], did you know who that was?” The woman in question gives a nod, confused at the sudden star struck gawks that her friends held.

“Uh, yeah? My ex-boyfriend’s volleyball coach?”

“No dude, that was the DJ, Spira.”

“What?”

Being the closing act meant a lot of different things to Ukai Keishin. On the negative spectrum, it meant he was going to have to tend to crops as soon as he finished cleaning up his set. That also meant he wasn’t going to get to go to bed until nearly eight in the morning after his shift at the farm. Yet, for him, the positives greatly outweighed the negatives. For Keishin, watching the audience lose themselves in euphoria, albeit probably a drug-induced one, just hit different for him. It was a sense of satisfaction that only came from a select few activities, with coaching volleyball being the other major contributor. There was just something about the way the crowd was overwhelmed and screaming the second underground remixes of old Kid Cudi tracks with his own twists overtook the speakers that granted Keishin a sense of enlightenment.

For him, being a DJ allowed an audience to flow and vibe with the journey of his life and all its constant up and down motions while under the guise of anonymity. As Spira, Ukai opened up the complexity and conflicting feelings of his inner mind and brought it to fruition through his mixes. He felt that in his soul, he’d done his art of storytelling justice. The audience felt it. Hell, his mom at home probably felt it. Perhaps it was one of the main reasons this dingy, hole-in-the-wall club kept asking him to come back every weekend.

His mind wanders further as he clutches an electronic cigarette in his hand, mixing beats on the turntable while taking hits of nicotine in between. He wonders if the girl he had ran into just a few minutes prior had been frequenting here as often as he had. Then, thinking back to what little information she supplied earlier, Ukai’s mind drifts off to the former third-year setter from when he first started coaching. Sugawara was a nice boy with a firm, almost parental, hand that walked dangerously along the lines of being a partner and being a control freak. When it came to his relationship, things had to go his way. And while his girlfriend that came to every tournament was much more outspoken yet easy going, she was opinionated and didn’t shy from confrontation.

Now that the coach had given it more thought, it was a wonder that one tolerated the other at any point in time. If anything, Ukai imagines the two of them would typically be at each other’s throats. From the few times he had interacted with her, she was always more free spirited and couldn’t be weighed down by any one else’s opinion, but seeing her now was different—she was in her element in the dingy, dark club with the glitter on her cheekbones refracting light off of her face. There was laughter and true, unabashed joy on her face. She had a light of her own—like she was ray of sunshine in the center of a storm.

Three hours past midnight when the club closed was always Keishin’s sign to leave, regardless of the countless attempts to attend the after party he’d been invited to. He had to go to work, after all. Sure, a part of him had always been a little green with envy at all the DJs that got to hook up with club patrons after, but after being at this gig for a few years, he figured that the right girl for him would eventually come to him if he continued working on himself. After all, he didn’t want to just have a string of one night stands with a bunch of fresh adults that could barely function after the small drop of Malibu rum—he was too old for that.

“Uh, coach?” [name] felt strange calling him that, but she didn’t feel familiar enough with him to address him otherwise. He was halfway in his car, the blonde ready to leave for the weekend to go back to his regular day-to-day work. “You coming to the after party?” [name] asks when Keishin only looks at her in question, cigarette hanging betwixt his dry lips.

“No, I actually have to go to work right now.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t mean to express her disappointment, but it slips anyway, “guess I’ll catch you later then?”

“Uh, yeah.” A tight lipped hybrid of a pained grin and grimace crosses her wet, gloss covered lips. Without another word, Ukai closes his car door, a little more brusquely than he intended to, before backing out and leaving the young woman to her own devices. His mind wanders once again with him humming absentmindedly to the soft acoustic punk playing over the car radio. His eyes are focused on the passing greenery, the cars that are weaving and bobbing off the freeway—hell he even noticed the way the tendrils of the sun are just barely starting to peak over the horizon because it reminded him of her. A thought he banishes immediately because he feels creepy for even thinking that.

Yet no matter how much scenery flitted through his honey eyes, his mind keeps traveling back to one thing, or rather one person, only.

Goddammit.

On Monday’s practice, Ukai Keishin’s mind is flooding and drowning in memories of his first year as the volleyball club’s coach. It was as if his mind was coercing him to attempt to reach out to the girl that plagued his mind for the last forty-eight hours or so. Though, he had no way of contacting her. Instead, with every step along the wooden floors, he can remember the way she would walk Suga to practice, almost physically seeing her standing in the doorway to kiss the third-year setter goodbye. As if he could see her sitting underneath the third window from the left, quietly doing homework and exchanging small talk and airy laughter with Kiyoko and Daichi. As if he could see the same sunny smile she gave in the audience from Saturday night at the club between the lines of the woodwork in the floorboards.

It was a repeating pattern day in and day out that was beginning to make Ukai question his sanity.

“Hey, man,” his assistant coach and fellow Karasuno alumni, Tsukishima Akiteru, places a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all week.” In what world did a week translate into three days, the older blonde coach didn’t know.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Keishin all but bites back. He didn’t want to admit his conscious had been running rampant with thoughts of a girl he’d briefly met at a club. It felt almost as disturbing and perverted as it sounded in his mind.

“The team’s worried about you. Why don’t you take an early weekend and get some rest? We’ll see you back on Monday, yeah?” Normally, Ukai would have vehemently refused. However, his circumstances were far from normal and he was gracious for an assistant coach he trusted wholeheartedly to do the work that needed to be done. And so, Ukai heeded Akiteru’s advice and went home before practice even began on Thursday afternoon.

It was slightly disorienting for him to go home and nap, but he was incredibly thankful for the gift. Waking up just before he was technically supposed to start his shift at the shop, Keishin jumps into a cold shower to bring him to life before heading downstairs. A bellowing yawn passes his lips through his teeth as he starts his evening. Maybe his team was right—he really did need a break. Thankfully, he knew that the second the doors to the Sakanoshita were locked, he was done for the evening and wouldn’t need to reawaken until three the following morning. Just a few more hours until then, he thought.

With it being a slower evening as well, Ukai was able to kick his feet up on the counter as he always did, pull open the newspaper from earlier in the morning and casually flip through. Briefly, he considers giving up one of his four jobs because this was something he missed doing. But consideration aside, he was far too in love with the cash flow and the thought of paying off his mortgage to entertain the thought for long. Maybe one day, he would finally sell the Sakanoshita store or quit helping on the farm—

“You still work here?” Huh. Her voice sounds different when it isn’t drowning under the speakers of a nightclub.

“I do own this place, you know.” Ukai snarks at the woman who’d been consuming his brain for the last week. She looks different without glitter reflecting off of her unreal cheekbones or the heavy layers of foundation and eyeshadow. Even more than before, Keishin definitely recognized [name] now. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Shopping,” she snorts as if it were the most obvious thing, “why else would I be at a store?”

“Dunno, maybe you’re just here to see me.” Ukai responds without skipping a beat, turning the page of the paper to play into his guise that he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at [name]’s presence.

“Uh...actually...” her voice is quiet, prompting the coach to quirk a brow and fold up the paper he was now pretending to read. It wasn’t like he could focus on anything right now outside of the woman standing before him, spearated only by a thin counter. Without talking again, his brown eyes lock with hers, silently goading for her to continue speaking. “I-I just...I don’t know. It was just really weird to see you at the club and then to find out that you’re Spira on top of that. I haven’t seen anyone from Karasuno since I graduated and—“

“Woah, kid, breathe.” Ukai interrupts her before she can continue spewing word vomit at a hundred miles an hour. “So what if I’m Spira? Though, you better not tell anyone that. My stage name is a secret between us, alright?” For a moment she’s quiet, gears turning in her head. The secrecy didn’t make sense to her because, if anything, he should be proud of the fact that he’s rather well known in the underground electronica scene. Or at least, she was in his stead, because [name] would have been proud of Ukai regardless of whatever occupation he held.

She supposed it came with the territory of having an unrequited crush on the coach years ago, that continued well beyond high school and even university, back when she was still dating Sugawara Koushi. It was the reason she had even bothered to come sit in on his practices and partially the reason she would come to his tournaments and matches. Not that she didn’t want to be supportive of her then-boyfriend—it would have been a fight had she not—but seeing the hot older coach was definitely a bonus in her book. “But why?” She offers, not wanting conversation to end despite her not having actually bought anything.

“If the school ever caught wind of me doing that, I could lose my position as the coach. Some shit about Karasuno’s image or whatever.” [name] gives a small nod, fidgeting subconsciously, as an attempt to shake her nerves and anxiety, by sifting through various candy bars that were in front of her before grabbing her favorite. Without a second thought, she peels the wrapper before placing the candy between her lips, the puffy pink skin greatly contrasting the chocolate coating. “Ya gonna pay for that, kid?” Ukai irks, his honey brown eyes steeling over in irritation. The nickname she’s given hits the final nail on the coffin and seals away [name]’s trepidation. Instead, her own sass comes out to join the fun.

“Nah,” she hums playfully, the chocolate-covered wafer cookie crunching between her teeth. “Quit calling me kid, coach. I’m a lady,” the irony isn’t lost on either of them as she speaks with her mouth full.

“Still a kid, kid. And quit calling me coach, I’m not your damn coach.” The familiar, grumpy attitude of his brings [name] back to the Ukai she knew back in high school. In a mix of nostalgia, warmth washes over her as the haughty tone in his voice sent shivers down her spine like it did a few years back.

“Sure thing, coach,” she teases again before tossing the wrapper of the stolen candy bar into the nearest bin. “You’re at the club tomorrow, right?” The question adds a bit of context and confirmation to Ukai—it seems she knew when Spira was performing, meaning she must have been a patron for a decent amount of time. Part of him wonders how she never realized who he was before, another part wonders how he’s never noticed her considering she could make all traffic stop if she stood in the middle of a freeway. At least, that’s what looking at her did to his heart.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe this time, you’ll join us at the after party.” Without another word, [name] pushes herself away from the counter she’d been leaning on while talking to the blonde man. With Akiteru giving him the weekend off, he actually entertained the thought of attending this time. Even if her invitation was rather blasé and indirect, he didn’t see the opportunity of him attending one presenting itself any time soon. He may be old, by his own standard, but there was a unknown allure to the thought of showing up to a wild party with a woman that was so adamant of his attendance.

Or rather, adamant in his mind. Whether she actually wanted his company remained to be seen, but the curiosity was gnawing at him, and was something he would have to unearth sooner rather than later.

Having an entire night, or a day’s worth, of rest was a rather disorienting, yet pleasant feeling for Ukai. After tending to crops and returning home in the early hours of the morning, the blonde coach was able to catch a solid nine hours of sleep before his shift at the Sakanoshita store with another chance to nap before he needed to head to the club. Despite knowing he had the ability to do so before another restless night, his mind felt the need to keep him awake and alert. Even after showering and styling his blonde tresses into their usual mane—mundane acts that usually came to him automatically—he was hyper aware of the slightest unruly flyaways.

Ukai Keishin was nervous.

He didn’t know what to wear or if there was a dress code or if anything he typically wore would be deemed worthy of an after party. A part of him wanted to leave it alone and let him sport his usual white track pants and tight, maroon muscle tank, but that part of him immediately drowns in the ocean of his anxiety. Another string in his brain prompted him to dress up just a little bit to help him look the part—it had nothing to do with impressing a certain club patron, no—he tried to convince himself. A miserable attempt, but still one nonetheless.

Eventually, he settled on crisp, dark-washed jeans that hugged his muscular legs without being suffocating, paired with a vibrant, crimson muscle tee that hugged his biceps all the same. Ukai still felt a little out of place in the attire, as he often had back when he first assumed the alias Spira, but headed out the door of his apartment before his conscious could dispute it.

He was early again, even more so than normal. Desperate for a drink to calm his nerves and replace his blood with liquid courage, Ukai worms his way around to the bar, signaling the attendant for his usual. Rum and coke in hand, the DJ stands off to the side, hiding like a wallflower, while he studied the sweaty, dancing bodies. Did he know why he was looking for her—no. Maybe partially to tell her she owed him for the candy bar, maybe to tell her he was joining in on the after party this time around.

Maybe to just see her.

Keishin banishes the last thought with a shake of his head before skulking off to the attached patio to smoke. Pulling a cigarette from his pack and a lighter from his pocket, the flame torches the end of the filter at the same time the blonde inhales. Forcefully pushing the smoke out past his lips, Ukai takes a hearty sip of his drink until it’s nearly gone. He was going to need something stronger tonight.

“Is it that time already?” The older man’s head snaps to the voice that had been haunting him subconsciously.

Part of him wishes he didn’t look.

As if to play into her question, [name] checks the large, rose gold watch on her right wrist—an incredibly stark contrast to her outfit for the evening. Maybe it was a hunch when Ukai felt that he had been underdressed, as if his intuition knew that she was going to be dressed to the nines in a black skater dress. Even with a modest neckline, the lace cut out detailing on the sides of the dress accentuated her curves impeccably, playing well with the volume of the skirt, while the open back she was sporting dipped dangerously low.

It took everything in Ukai to not throw every milliliter of restraint and inhibition out the window and fuck her right then and there.

Taking a lengthy drag of his cigarette to hold himself back, Keishin inhales deeply, the smoke billowing past his lips emerging densely and grey in color. “I’m a little early—needed an extra drink today.” The man manages to choke out, downing whatever is left in his little plastic cup for added emphasis.

“Need another?” [name] chirps politely; almost too politely as if to deliberately dispute the salacious thoughts flooding the coaches mind.

“I can get—“

“I owe you anyway,” she reminds him, alluding to the candy bar she had eaten without paying for from the previous night. “Pick your poison.”

“Double rum and coke.” He concedes. [name]’s lips twitch upward slightly at the corner before she plucks the empty cup from Ukai’s hand. He doesn’t miss the way the shellac on her nails grazes against his skin, leaving the whispers of contact to run warm. Immediately, the blonde man uses the nearly dead cigarette between his teeth to light a fresh one—heaven or hell knows he needed the nicotine right now.

Given the silence, Keishin takes the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. From the general direction that [name] initially came from, she wasn’t around any of her friends or really anyone that he knew. That was good at least; there wasn’t anybody else that knew of his presence. [name] returns, two clear plastic cups in her hands and surrenders the darker of the two to the man awaiting. “Hold mine for a sec?” Without thinking, Keishin holds his cigarette between his left index and middle fingers, his drink in the same hand, while taking hers. To his surprise, she pulls out her own pack of menthols and a torch lighter, setting the leaves ablaze before taking her obvious vodka cranberry back.

“You took up smoking?” The older of the two asks in surprise, noting the way her lipstick leaves the slightest bit of residue along the brown filter. [name] gives a shrug.

“Surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, coach. I’ve been smoking since second year.” Ukai gives a roll of his eyes at the use of this strange pet name he’s been dubbed by her. But he thinks about it, thinks about how Suga must have felt probably knowing that she did. Thinks how it just added to this strange, sassy yet happy, wild and free exterior she now had. And [name] notices instantly the very same look Ukai had in his face when he was trying to strategize, trying to figure out a way to navigate a conversation with his team about becoming better—she knows what’s coming next. “Yeah, yeah, I know I should quit or whatever. Suga lost that argument a long time ago.”

“Can’t really tell you what to do when I’m just as guilty.” Ukai gives a laugh—one that is embedded with bitterness and envy at the mention of the third-year setter—yet is just as vivacious as he is. A sound entirely different than she’d ever heard leave his lungs before. She likes it.

After finishing his smoke, Keishin gulps down a hefty swig of his drink before patting [name] on the shoulder before announcing his departure. “I’ll see you inside,” the girl, woman, calls out thoughtfully as she gives a small wave with her cigarette filter between her fingers. Ukai doesn’t verbalize the same sentiment. He doesn’t want to slip up and admit he’ll be looking for her.

But it’s painfully obvious that he is when he takes over the booth. Unable to hide the fact that with every chance that he looks into the audience, he’s searching for that black skater dress that hugs her all too perfectly, [hair color] locks swaying as she moves in the crowd. Ukai can’t hide it at all—not behind the turn table or new remixes meant to get the crowd moving.

He can’t hide the urgency he feels to find her outside in the crisp evening air, smoking on the back patio of the club after his set. [name] is talking and laughing with her friends while thin grey smoke billows from her open mouth before her eyes land on him. Some of her friends take notice to the tension and their shared gazes, some of them whispering his alias in excitement. But [name] just smiles knowingly, if not a little cocky, because she can see that urgency, that desperation, that Ukai was trying to hide. “Wait, [name], do you know Spira?” A bystander asked. Clearly, they weren’t present the last time this was brought up.

“Yeah, I may have met him once or twice,” the woman in question snickers as she strides over closer and closer to the aforementioned DJ.

“Cute,” Ukai sneers teasingly at her jab before instinctively reaching for the half-gone cigarette she pulls to her stained lips. At first, she thought he was going to put it out, considering their little conversation from a few hours ago. Instead, the volleyball coach puts the filter to his own lips, noting the damp fabric probably from her freshly applied lipgloss, and takes a drag. It tasted like watermelons and mint.

“Cheeky,” [name] returns, plucking her cancer stick back from the blonde man. While her friends are still behind her murmuring about the familiarity between the two of them, Keishin and [name] are lost in their own little world. “So since your set is over, and considering you’re still here, I’m assuming you’re joining me for the after party? Or do you have to go to work again?”

“I told them I’d be out of town this weekend,” Ukai tries to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, ties to swallow it down his nerves with rum and nicotine. It proves rather difficult considering the coy smile on [name]’s face is wearing and cracking through his resolve rather quickly. But at least, to him, he could confirm his mind was not playing tricks on him and [name] was just as adamant about his attendance as he initially thought. Even more so with her next statement.

“Cool. Your car or mine?” It took him a minute to process her words even—lust thickening and constricting the flow to his brain at the vague question. Ukai was getting far too ahead of himself, but goddammit how could he focus when the fabric of her skirt hit her mid-thigh and framed her like a Venetian goddess—“I don’t mind driving there.” She adds to coax him away from his silence.

“Nah, I got it. We’ll take mine.”

“Lead the way,” [name] chimes sweetly as she wraps an arm around the coach’s forearm. The physical touch is everything he’s been fantasizing about for the last few days—hellfire and brimstone and sunlight and goddammit why did he wear jeans that were only getting tighter and tighter?

Ukai opens the passenger door to his SUV, supporting the woman as she clambered in cautiously so as not to stumble from her heels. Getting settled in, the coach surrenders his unlocked phone to allow her the entirety of his music library. The irony of the DJ surrendering DJ rights to the passenger was not lost on either of them. Much to his surprise, [name] put on soft acoustic punk as he usually did on his way home from the club. The kind of softness one would turn on to accompany the fragile pitter-patter of rain against the windshield. “Cardboard Swords?” Ukai asks in surprise, more than familiar with the band.

“Flannel is a favorite of mine. I’m kind of surprised it’s in your library.” She adds after she begins directing him to this evening’s party location. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the way her full lips are moving along each word with expertise. He sees the way her [eye color] orbs soften slightly and he can tell this song hits home for her.

She’ll never say why—she’ll never tell him this was the song that helped her move on from Sugawara Koushi while restoring her inner peace.

But Keishin is no fool. He can tell that this is physically hurting her—crushing her soul into the leather seat of his car and, instinctually, he wraps a large hand around hers that’s resting in her lap. “I came out tonight to have fun with you, so don’t you go getting sad on me.” He means each word with innocent intent, yet he cannot ignore the almost hidden, salacious drip to each syllable and neither can she. How could she when his touch sent volts of electricity through her skin?

“Right, right,” she says in a conceding tone, switching the audio to something much more upbeat and a little flirty. “Why did you agree to go out tonight?” If Ukai had an answer, then it died on his lips as he let go of [name]’s hand to reach for another cigarette. The process of lighting the tube, inhaling, and exhaling bought him an extra minute to come up with an excuse; her doing the same giving him another thirty seconds.

“I don’t know.” It’s a blatant lie—a lie that [name] believes all too easily—but Ukai can’t bring himself to admit the truth. He can’t admit out loud that she’s the only thing that’s been on his mind all week or that he jumped at the opportunity, created one even, to be able to have a one-on-one moment with her. Keishin can’t admit that he can tell there are intricate webs spun in her mind and that all he wants to do is untangle them one by one.

And he certainly can’t tell her that even the mere sight of her sends his brain into overdrive and all he wants to do is repeatedly fill her over and over with his seed until she is entirely his, inside and out in mind, body, and soul. There was no way in the nine circles of hell that Ukai Keishin was going to admit to his sinful thoughts.

“It’s just up here.” [name] points with gaunt fingers, cigarette between them as her voice is half choked from inhaling her own smoke. Mirroring the man’s actions earlier, she indulged in her own nicotine habit to quell the budding disappointment from Ukai’s lackluster response. They drove up a slight winding hill and as the trees pass by, the itch for her truth and her history was gnawing at him. He wanted to know why this rambunctious party girl invited him all week to these elusive after parties. Why Flannel ate away at her insides like it did his. Why did her and Sugawara breakup?

But he decides against it for the moment.

“Where are we?” Ukai asks. There’s cars all lining the sides of the road of varying worth—he felt even more out of place than normal with his older SUV, even if it was an upgrade for him, considering the large number of luxury vehicles.

“Bevelle’s house.” [name] says simply, pointing to an empty space in the streets as she throws the butt of her cigarette into the road. The casual way she name drops the owner of the club makes him gawk, catching flies in his mouth had there been any at the hour. With a satisfied, cheesy grin, she hops out of her seat and walks in the grass to meet Ukai on the other side as he clambers out of the vehicle as well. In familiarity, she grips into his forearm once again as they walk towards the forest mansion.

Keishin wasn’t sure what to expect when the two of them walked in, but a home full of people screaming his pseudonym and her name was not on that list. Younger hordes had surrounded [name], greeting her warmly and telling her how glad they were to see her again for the evening. Others were approaching Ukai, telling them how rare and a momentous occasion that the infamous artist Spira was amongst their midst.

“Glad to see you could join us, Spira.” His boss and club owner, Bevelle, approaches the mismatched couple. Bevelle was an alias used by the middle aged woman, her real name unknown to those that didn’t know her know her, and was once upon a time her stage name. While she had chosen a quiet location in the Miyagi prefecture, Bevelle was quite known in the underground scene. Granted, Ukai didn’t know any of that when he’d taken the job. If anything, it was all thanks to her that he was able to learn for his own success as well as granting him the opportunity to learn in the first place. “Good to see you too, trouble.” Bevelle affectionately goes to muss at [name]’s hair, to which she only replies with a cheeky grin.

“How do you know Bevelle?” Ukai presses his lips towards the ear of the woman still hanging onto him as she expertly leads the way to the kitchen. The car ride left her feeling slightly uncomfortable, ashamed even though she would never admit to that, and she knew she definitely needed a drink after it. Part of her was heavily rebuking herself for trying to pry into his mind by asking why he came along, even more so when she put on the one song that shattered her heart every time she heard it. It just excited her that he had it in his library, that he even knew who The Cardboard Swords were, and that he enjoyed the same obscure taste in music as much as she did.

“She’s a close family friend!” The chirp that [name] gives isn’t entirely convincing, like she isn’t telling the truth. Regardless, Ukai washes down his doubt with the beer he was handed, figuring she probably had her reasons. And as soon as the plastic is in each of their hands, [name] downs the contents immediately, hoping to drown out the nerves ebbing from her stomach with vodka. She should have been ecstatic—her old high school crush, her unrequited crush, was here with her, drinking side by side but she can’t help but feel the tension between them—sexual or otherwise.

Just as the two of them down their second round, a piercing voice cuts through the thicket of the masses, calling out her name and capturing her attention. “It’s your song! Come on!” A shrug and a smile crosses [name]’s features as she’s all but dragged away to a different part of the mansion. Much to his surprise, she grabbed onto Keishin to drag him along as well.

The two of them are presented with a myriad of sweaty, rolling bodies—much more gone than Ukai had ever seen at the club itself. It was oddly...sensual, if it could be called that, to see the fluid movements between party goers. Sensual, intimate, strange—all of them could be used interchangeably at this moment.

[name] is dancing with another woman, mouthing all of the words to the current pop song while bobbing and jumping around excitedly before her eyes lock on his. She’s in her element now. All sunshine and smiles like Ukai had seen from on occasion from years ago or most recently at the club, but they’re directed at him for once as she pulls him closer onto the dance floor. The taunting beats and repetitive call of “come on” and the way [name] loosely wraps her arms around his neck as she dances brings Ukai to the realization that this was the end of the line.

The end of the line, because Keishin can’t hold himself back anymore.

Not with the way her hips are grinding against is and she’s laughing warmly and heartily at his slight discomfort and her teeth are glittering off the lights in the dark room like stars in the night sky. Not with the way her head is thrown back and her dress drops low enough to flaunt the expanse of bare skin of her neck and collar bones that are just begging him to sink his teeth in. Not with the way her [eye color]ed orbs are locked with his as she sings along with the music, oddly enough alluding to some form of confession of her feelings.

He can’t fucking take it anymore.

The large hands he has on her hips move just under her arms to hoist her up, [name] instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist to keep her balance. Their eyes are locked, honed in on each other with the rest of the party melting into the background. With her deepest, most wild high school fantasy driving her actions, she grins. “Hi,” is all she says before Ukai cranes his neck back to cover her lips with his.

His kiss is everything she imagined it would be after years of pining. The smell and taste of smoke and wood floods her senses as his tongue laps at the watermelon lip gloss on her bottom lip before seeking refuge within her mouth. His hands, now wrapped around her thighs give intermittent squeezes, either to keep them grounded in reality or just because he needs something to clutch at—she’s unsure of which. In response, her manicured fingernails tangle into his messy blonde locks. Their kiss pours out their desperation, laying it all out on the table for the both of them to see clear as day.

The only thing that prompts them to break apart is the ending of the song.

“You wanna get out of here?” Ukai asks as he tenderly puts [name] back on the ground. As if he weren’t just making out with her moments ago, the motion is delicate and gingerly and almost loving.

“Not yet,” there’s a knowing, smug lilt in her voice as she turns on her heel and throw herself back into the throng of party people. Or rather, attempts. While she’s attempting to flee, Keishin snatches her wrist, pulling her closer until their chests are flush against each other.

“Nuh uh,” the blonde man tuts, “you’ve been asking me to join you at a party all week, now here I am. The hell makes you think you’re leaving my side tonight?” [name]’s grin only grows wider.

“I’ve waited for years for this opportunity, coach, so if you think I’m not gonna have fun with it, you’re dead wrong.” The word ‘years’ constricts the man’s heart—forces his pupils to blow into dilation with her modest, yet blunt confession.

“Years?”

“Years,” she repeats, “ever since that first practice you stumbled into the Karasuno gym as the temporary coach. Why do you think I came to every single exhibition match and tournament? Or came to study and do homework while you guys had practice?” This girl was grinding at every steel line of self-control that was left in Ukai’s body because every word spilling past her lips added an additional ten volts to the sexual tension between them.

“We’re leaving.” He bites out despite the delicate tone. Wrapping his hand around hers once again, Keishin tugs her along time dodge the party goers that threw the two of them curious glances, wondering why they were quick to leave shortly after their arrival. Just to tease him further, [name] almost wants to offer a rebuttal and tell him that they should stay longer and enjoy the show. However, she knows she’s done enough waiting and if he was taking her home, she wasn’t going to argue.

While urgency and desperation was their game, Keishin didn’t cut corners when it came to presenting himself as a gentleman as he helped [name] back into the car. Hormones be damned—he was still going to help a lady into the passengers seat. “You never did tell me why you finally agreed to come out tonight.” She says quietly, as if the two of them hadn’t been making out and dry humping a few minutes prior. “And it’s clearly not because you knew I had a crush on you all throughout third year—“

“Don’t act like you’re the only one with feelings in this.” Ukai grits out, speeding much faster back home than he did on the way to Bevelle’s house. Paying that no mind, [name]’s ears perk up at his own wayward confession. When she asked for clarity, a rumbling groan shakes his chest as he patted down his pockets in search for his nicotine sticks. “I didn’t recognize you the first night at the club because you look different now. Happiness looks good on you.”

“Happiness?” She echos confusedly, turning to face Ukai fully after lighting her own cigarette.

“You used to always look content back then—just barely content and nothing more. And I can’t stop thinking back to those days because you’re this ball of sunshine, kid, and I can’t stop wondering what the hell Suga did to you to dim your shine that badly. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week.”

[name] is quiet for a moment at his own rendition, his own version, of a confession and she’s stunned. And she can’t tell if she wants to cry or kiss him because this is not that way she ever fantasized this conversation going. It was going better than she dreamed. Better, because the words that Ukai is saying adds an entirely new layer to his amped up personality—he wasn’t just the sexy volleyball coach that she used to pine over. He was a person with deep rooted feelings for justice in the sense of wanting to understand how someone could inflict damage to the innocent and he wanted to rectify said injustices. He wanted to know how someone like Suga could try to dampen her sunlight instead of allowing her to thrive and bloom.

She wants to kiss him, she decides, but since he’s driving, she settles for placing a chaste one on the corner of his mouth. “Serves you right,” she jokes when she pulls away, “it’s been a long four years for me. It’s your turn to suffer.”

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

[ next ]