#plastic man adoption trials

[currentfandomkick]

Plasticman vs Adoption Trials pt 1

Thanks for waiting, and more to be posted in the future when i have time to work out a proper battle.

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Plasticman took a deep breath as the… ghost guardians (gaurdian goons?) of his son moved about somehow less organized than a JL and affiliated allies barbecue.

“As the leader—” the blue armed woman began.

“Only due to a technicality,” Clockwork interrupted. “We all know I’m his favorite.”

Plasticman was just glad his son was safely not present to be pressured into answering that loaded question.

“We have been over this,” Nocturne groaned, rubbing his face. “Just because he agreed to be ‘your problem’ so he wasn’t Ended, doesn’t mean you get to claim favorite status.”

“I find myself agreeing with Nocturne,” blue lady continued. “Especially as we all know we Elipis enjoys the name and role my kin have granted him for his achievements outside of the realms as a mortal.”

“And I’ve known him longest,” Nocturne forced his head up. “Frankly, i’m the most knowledgeable on the living and how they tick in this council, pun intended.”

Clockwork lifted his staff with narrow eye as a geezer. Then pointed it as a toddler.

Plasticman flung himself between them, looping around the staff a few times.

He hates being the sensible one in a room of Ancients and adjecents.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure you guys are supposed to be working out my tests. Like, how many am I taking? Do I get a snack break? Is it open or closed book?”

Clockwork gave him a look that Plas knew would bite him in the butt.

“There are five tests,” Frostbite began while taking the staff of time and Plas safely away from the Infinite’s most over the top time trickster.

“Because Amity already gave me her seal approval,” Plas twisted his head upside down, “so you couldnt up it to six or seven, right?”

“And the children are waiting for you as my liege’s deathday nears,” Fright Knight added with his special brand of ‘too courtly to side eye the Ancients but debating it’ abundantly clear. “So your tests have the potential to happen simultaneously.”

“Great,” Plasticman unwound from the staff and returned to his prior spot. “But do i have an answer ok snacks and if medical comes up, am I allowed to phone a friend,” Plas shifted into a phone and shook his phone hand in Frighty s face. “

Or is that trip to the slammer?” Plas asked behind his finger-made jail bars as he rattled a cup against them.

He delighted in Frighty’s huffing and Nocturn’s slight smile.

“The Great One will need my help and will always have it,” Frostbite began. “There is no reason why asking for help should result in consequences.”

“But if he lacks knowledge it could End Dani,” Clockwork stated with that grin Plas knew was going to bite him in the ass.

“And we are not in the business of leaving our children’s safety negotiable,” Pandora intoned.

“So, is there a class for that? Because if I’m not mistaken, none of you are quite sure how to stabilize her if old Frostbite isnt around,” Plas continued, tying himself in knots openly.

“That’s different,” Pandora began.

“Not quite, my lady,” Fright Knight interrupted. “First aide skills are a requirement, but continued stability for one born coreless is a constantly balance they must maintain themselves.”

“Only until they form a proper core for themselves.” Frost bite began. “The extensive care required is not something any one of us can provide, and halfas are always unique in each case given their nature.”

Pandora pinched her brow. “You are not helping.”

“Sorry,” Frostbite shrunk in on himself for a moment. “If possible, i would like to issue my trial first.”

“Lay it on me iced Yeti!”

Nocturne gave him a look. Plas ignored it.

“You are to escort a blob ghost to the far frozen alone. You’ve always traveled the Infinite with The Great One beside you, but if he or Dani are injured their enemies and any number of the Infinite’s predators might give chase.”

Plas gave him a few foam finger sized thumbs up.

Pandora sat taller before addressing him. “And for my trial, we shall see how you hold up against me in combat while escorting the blob to the Far frozen.”

Plas wondered if he could just turn into freshly printed paper, or if that would be inappropriate in the bad way given this is his co-parenting council.

“Okay, when do we start?”

Clockwork grinned with far too much teeth and banged his reclaimed time staff.

“Now.”

Plas huffed as he realized he was dropped into some part of IR—thankfully close to earth if the green sky was any indication… and he has a blob.

The blob—Blobby?— floated up to him and smacked into his face.

“Okay, Frostbite said Far Frozen escort mission—you got any idea which way that is blobby, can i call you blobby?”

The blob twisted in the air and splat against the ground.

“Not a fan of blobby… how about—”

Something shot him in the back.

The blob cowered on the ground.

“Hold on to that thought little buddy.”

Plas twisted his torso around the thing—squishy thing, hot, and oddly light for something that hit that hard…

Wait this is the ghost zone, made of ectoplasm. Which is as multipurpose as carbon.

Ectoplasm. He was wrapped around ectoplasm.

Well, ecto projectile then—oh this was going to be a real blast now!

“Hey little guy, i will be right back, try eating some of this,” plas unraveled himself. “It’s not the best, but my kids eat ectoblasts all the time, might feel a bit grumpy and jumpy after.”

The smushed blob inched to the failed ectoblast while plas looked around. Based on how he was hit, the enemy was in the sky.

Could be Young Blood again, or it could be a real enemy or Worse.

He’s hoping an overeager Young Blood and not Pandora with guns. He does not want to k ow what an ancient of protection, master of battle and keeper (or jailer) of hope.

One eye ran around to see what all the fuss was.

He saw blue flaming hair, Johnny’s infamous motorcycle and a bit of metal and green flames…

What were his chances of catching a ride with one of them once they find out this is a test?

Low.

Skulker likes testing weapons on his son in particular—something about it being important for his development… he does fear Ellie. Especially since Ellie is a menace of the highest degree and was raised in a lab as Vlad’s assistant before everything went down. She knows what not to do and will do it for revenge. He also knows his kids are never far behind him.

Kitty and Johnny won’t want to get on another ancient’s bad side. He’s not sure why Nocturne hates Johnny, but he’s pretty sure it has to do with Jazz—sleep guy has a favorite liminal and holds a nasty grudge whenever it involves Jazz. (And is probably why Vlad has so many night terrors now, if the baby ghost busters’ bugs are a good indicator.)

Ember hates ancients and doesnt like Plas for being “too ghost” for a mortal with no net liminality. He’s an uncanny valley to both sides of the veil, and still isn’t sure if that’s perfect or a shame.

Stealing Johnny’s bike is always ethical. He did vandalize his favorite part of his city and refuse to clean up. Cleaning ecto in any form just sucks—and not in the ‘safe consumption as a living vacuum’ sucks.

Plas walked one finger over to the bike and got ready to reel it in while another set off skulker’s guns in Kitty’s direction. Prompting Johnny and Shadow to go on the offensive and abandon their ride.

He snagged the bike while the four argued.

“Hey Goop?” The blob chimed with a twirl. “Goop it is. We gotta get going, and i grabbed a ride.”

Plas showed off johnny’s bike, and was relieved to see Goop plop down in the side car and snuggle in.

Plas flung the motorcycle into the air and let the GZP map kick in.

He’s just glad its in 2D this time and not 5D that was hard to keep track of the time part.

Then he heard a certain angry warrior yell and kicked it into high gear.

“Hold on Goop! We have an angry spear mom on our tail!”

Goop made a bubbling sound, sinking deeper into the passenger seat.

“You and me both buddy. Think the TimeLocked isles’ markets will be enough to slow her down?”

Goop made a low gurgling sound.

“Well not for a long time, but like an hour or so.

She isn’t one for poofy dresses and Goop do they have a lot of those there.”

Thanks to @stealingyourbones and @bonebrokebuddy for their info on Plasticman

Taglist below

@alinmenttreasure @sophistryandsophisms @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @im-totally-not-an-alien @akikoyuii @idek618 @satanicritualspecialist @thefanficcup @ekat @secretdestinywerewolf @dannyphantomphan @forgottenac3 @avery-isastupid-name @jadedragon1903 @naluforever3 @akikkobara @the-church-grimm @pheonixqueen @fisticuffsatapplebees @thewondersoflebanon @dontfightmecauseillcry @please-dont-see-me @onyxlightdragon @kyrianclawraith @treepainting @allulily @andsatisfactionbroughtmeback @depuffstuff @shorterthanadverage @notmuchtopost @ghostly-pal @vellichor615 @dulceringo @09shell-sea09 @halfblackwolfdemon @thecatchat @maribatshipper @legallyspawned

[wario-speedwagon]

Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid: Chapter 9

Ho there, again! You know the drill, have another chapter, you lovable scamps! Hope you enjoy the extra fluff! Full chapter is under the cut <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 8

Chapter 9

“Alright, kiddo, you’re all set!” Dave said, turning the girl around to face him. “Unfortunately, the only mirror I know of is still currently occupied… But hey! I think you look great! Old Sport was right, it really is simple once you get a feel for it!”

But for some reason, Pruny looked slightly shy; maybe she wasn’t used to having her hair dolled up?—she kept reaching her hand back to feel her newly tied up hair—or maybe she wasn’t sure if he had done a good job…? Nah, it was probably the first idea, Dave decided. After all, he made sure to keep reassuring her that he knew exactly what he was doing and to just trust the process!

Dave stood up and extended his hand to her. “C’mon. That old diva’s hogged the bathroom for long enough, so we’re just gonna come in and share it real quick.”

The girl gave him her tiny hand, so he gingerly led her down the hallway to the bathroom and opened it, startling the orange man inside again.

“—Dave, I assume you would have snooped in on the part where I said it’s polite to knock first. What is it?”

Jack’s orange face was complete like normal again, and he was now finishing up the backs of his hands.

“Sorry, Old Sport. We just wanted to share the mirror real quick.” Dave moved aside to let the girl ahead of him into the bathroom that was quickly getting cramped.

Jack looked down at her somewhat incredulously.

“Is that… a French braid? How’d–”

“Man, do I look French to you? This style’s American as it comes, far as I’m concerned–!”

“You made it sound like you could barely even pull hair into a hair tie!”

“Well, I mean, yeah, that part took a fair bit of… trial and error, but once I did that, I thought I’d try ‘n’ figure out one of those braid thingies, and uh, then I figured it out!”

“...Just… all on your own? With no reference?”

“...Yes?”

“How!?”

“I don’t know, uh… just trial and error? I don’t know what to tell ya, that’s just my ‘M.O.’ with this kinda stuff, yknow?”

Jack just kept glancing back and forth between him and Pruny, his face a fluctuating mix between impressed and skeptical. He then stepped forward and lifted up Pruny’s single back braid to briefly inspect it… and then finally shrugged in acceptance.

“Wow. So could you theoretically… teach yourself how to fix my car sometime?”

“Ha, only if you give us a place to stay here!” he said without missing a beat or an opportunity to blackmail his way into Jack’s heart–

“Pass.”

(Aww…)

At the same time, they both noticed Pruny was trying to lean up on her tippy toes to the mirror. Dave lifted her from under her arms to let her see herself better.

“...There! Whaddya think, kid? Not bad for my first time, eh?”

Having finally seen herself properly, a smile cracked on her face. And that made Dave crack a smile of his own. He could even see a small one on Jack’s face as well in the mirror that all three were facing together.

Together, looking like proper family, in Dave's eyes.

Good. He’s worked hard to get this far. And he’ll keep going.

If you aren’t given a family, then you just gotta chase one yourself. Whatever it takes.

“All right, let’s get some breakfast. It’s getting to be 10:30.”

“Fuck yeah! Food!” Dave lowered his girl back onto her feet so he could promptly make for the kitchen.

And so at last, the colorful crew exited the poor, crowded bathroom.

(Though not without Dave hitting his head on the top of the doorframe first.)

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

...He heard and felt the plastic *clonk* his head made as it fell forward onto his desk.

Scott was having the most miserable morning of his life. And of what would be left of it if he didn’t somehow pull off an unlikely miracle.

Moments ago, he had just gotten off a call from Fazbender HQ regarding the missing kids investigation. He’d received a chilling ultimatum that every Phone Guy feared:

Clean up the scandal. You know what happens if you fail.

Oh, if only he were capable of crying, he would have used that faculty so many times since becoming– er, always having been a Phone Guy, and he sure as heck would be indulging in it now!

But Phone Guys always simply have to get back to work in the end. It’s all they know.

It’s all they’re designed for.

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

The three colored cryptids were sitting in a peaceful silence at the dining table. Pruny had made quick work of her pop tarts (properly cooked this time!) and was given a pen and notepad to start doodling while Dave and Jack continued “enjoying” their moldy unbuttered toast and black coffee.

They’d realized only after having already toasted it and presenting it to her that maybe a living aubergine child wouldn’t be able to stomach mold quite as well as immortal decomposing zombies, so they microwaved her a pop tart and took her extra toast to finish themselves. That was an embarrassing moment for all three of them. But it was even worse for Jack whose precious pop tart stash was quickly diminishing in the span of less than a day…

Dave, however, was an easy guest to feed; he was wildly un-fussy. Concerningly so. Jack suspected that he might have foreign, cryptid taste buds or something, because considering his pizza of preferences and how graciously Dave accepted black coffee and plain moldy toast, there was no way he had a normally functioning sense of taste.

Pruny, on the other hand, had the common sense to turn her nose up at the obviously rotten food that Jack had long resigned to getting used to, and it made him embarrassed to realize how low his standards had fallen over the years since he last ever made food for other people.

Jack took a sip of his coffee.

Putting away that whole fiasco from his mindspace, his thoughts then returned to what he had been reflecting on in the bathroom as he finished up his makeup.

Though the way Dave went about communicating it was obnoxious, he did have a point. By now Dave deserved to at least know a basic thing or two about him.

But then Jack didn’t know how he would even begin to get into the personal matters Dave was curious about, nor did he really know where he exactly wanted to draw lines on what he should share or not.

Dave doesn’t even know what he did to us.

Catching himself zoning out instead of eating, Jack resumed his last piece of toast. Pruny was still very invested in the bunny she was drawing.

“Dave.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry for getting all mad at you earlier,” Jack casually admitted through a mouth full of moldy toast.

“Oh. …You were mad? I thought that was just you sober,” Dave jabbed lightheartedly to not much reaction from Jack. Composing himself more seriously–

“...Don’t worry about it, Old Sport, you probably had your reasons. But can I ask what made you mad specifically?”

Jack took a thoughtful moment to figure out how he wanted to answer that.

“... ...I don’t like thinking about who I used to be. Let alone talking about it.”

“What, y’mean with your kid and all?”

“Sister,” Jack corrected.

“Right, right…”

Dave thought for a moment about Jack's words and what they meant. Then he added:

“Yknow, you’re maybe as cryptic as Henry was. It took me ages to get that man to tell me he once had a wife n’ kid.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at that unexpected revelation.

“Really? That guy had a wife and kid!?”

“Mhm. Did you?”

“Huh? No, died too young for any of that.” ...My brother had a wife and kid though.”

“Alright, now we're gettin' somewhere! So you have a brother too! What’s he up to these days?”

“... He’s dead.”

“O-Oh." His excitement immediately subsided. "…W-What about your sister then?”

“Also dead.”

Dave’s whole demeanor had changed. Jack had never seen him this emotionally conflicted before; it was morbidly refreshing in a way. Clearly he craved more answers, but didn’t like how depressingly blunt they were all turning out to be.

“...Parents?” Dave tried again.

“Dead.”

Well, that’s just one of many reasons why Jack never bothered sharing anything about himself. It’s not exactly a good topic for small talk, is it?

“So it’s just you now. No other relatives?”

“None.”

“... I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.” Jack took another sip of coffee.

Silence hung in the air for a good several seconds, filled only with the scribbling scrawls of Pruny and her pen as she kept drawing, practically unaware of her surroundings.

“You wanna hug?”

“...Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t–...” Jack chuckled before trailing off.

He stared contemplatively at Dave who had now turned his chair toward him in hopeful preparation for a ‘yes.’

…which Jack certainly wasn’t going to say.

…Yet… he couldn’t quite bring himself to say ‘no’ either, not to that sincerity behind Dave’s offer. Which was strange, because Jack was always comfortable rejecting sincerity.

“...C’moooon, you know you want toooo…!” Dave egged on playfully when Jack didn’t answer for too long.

After a few beats of Jack’s indecision, Dave finally took his lack of ‘no’ as a potential ‘yes,’ and got up, slowly closing in for a hug, but with enough awkward hesitation to give Jack the chance to back out.

Wanting to end this awkward limbo–

“Sure, what the hell.”

And then he felt the force of the aubergine’s embrace around him, and he simply took it, in the way that one ‘takes’ a bucket of ice over the head. Jack could feel his face flush from mild embarrassment mixed with the overwhelming novelty of physical contact that he hadn’t really felt in ages.

Oh well, this might as well just happen.

Pruny’s focused eyes had briefly glanced a check upward at them, and then she looked up again with attention at the sight of them hugging—well, of Dave hugging Jack.

Dave, having noticed her, waved an arm to motion her over, and she gladly obeyed, hopping off her chair, running around the table, and then running into a hug on Jack’s other side.

Now two pairs of aubergine arms were wrapped around him. And Jack just sat there accepting it.

…Not hating it.

(Chapter 10)->

[seresinhangmanjake]

Wanting it all

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Hangman ends up in the hospital from a very similar Phoenix/Bob/birds situation, and you suddenly regret keeping a big secret from him.

Notes/Warnings: it’s pure fluffiness. future dad!hangman, near-death stuff, I guess. Cursing, im sure. best friend Rooster! In anything top gun related i write, there is likely to be something incorrect. I only saw the movie once and it was back in May, so I try my best but i don’t remember the details of everything.

Words: 2833

When you got involved with Jake Seresin, you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew what it meant. You understood the sacrifices. You accepted that there was an element to your life that would always contain a well of fear. You knew, because he was very careful to be clear when he laid it all out for you.

Before you, Jake didn’t do relationships, but he told you there was a piece of him that fought against that choice, a piece that was desperate to have you and call you his, a piece that forced him to make an exception. In the same way, you had made an exception for him in being a part of the life he led, with all of its trials and tribulations that a man not in his profession wouldn’t demand of you.

But it was not something you ever had to mull over. When he told you how a life by his side would be, you had already decided that he was what you wanted. Come hell or high water, you would be with him as long as he also wanted you.

“Not wanting you isn’t something you will ever have to worry about, sweetheart,” he had told you, “Wanting you was as much a choice consciously made as it was something completely out of my control. My heart decided for me, and my mind willingly agreed. So don’t waste time worrying about that.”

But there would always be other things to worry about: the dangers he faced, his health, his safety. Those nagging pieces were tucked away in the corners of your mind, never quite leaving you in peace. And then for the first time since you made the thing between you official, Jake had come horribly close to not coming home to you. Some stupid birds almost got your boyfriend killed, and now more than ever, it struck you at your core.

 ---

Returning with oddly soft, quiet steps for a man of his size, Rooster sat beside you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs under the harsh florescent lighting and dumped an array of vending machine snacks on the small table between you. Bags of chips to tubes of candies to packets of gum made a mountain that you would slowly pick at for the rest of the day; and to say you were relieved to see the junk food that wouldn’t nutritiously sustain you for more than an hour would be a gross understatement.

“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just got a couple things from each row,” he said, and you nodded your thanks, grabbing a random bag of chips and tearing it open. He watched how severely your gaze was glued to Jake. “If it’s any comfort, he could be in much worse condition.”

But it wasn’t any comfort, unfortunately. Pain medications, exhaustion, and mild trauma to your boyfriend’s body had him completely passed out in the hospital bed; and he’d been that way for hours, asleep in misleading peacefulness even before Rooster got the chance to call you and tell you to come down to the hospital.

You knew Jake would be fine. But not yet seeing the green of his eyes or hearing the deep sound of his voice pricked at your nerves. The kind nurse's reassurance was not enough to soothe you, leaving you no choice but to wait for him to wake.

Rooster nudged your elbow with his, drawing you out of your daze, and you turned to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. It would have been out of character for you; maybe not so much when you were dealing with Jake, but Rooster didn’t deserve such a reaction from you. Not when he had practically adopted you as his little sister and did everything he could to protect and take care of you when you needed it most.

“You mean other than my boyfriend having to eject from his jet, which according to what I was told, crashed into a mountain less than five seconds after he got out?”

Rooster winced. “Yea,” he said, scratching at his jaw, “…other than that.”

You faced forward, eyes training on the ugly beige coloring of the wall as you put a chip in your mouth. You chewed, swallowed, sipped your water, then took a deep breath and said, “I’m pregnant.”

“Wha—” Rooster’s head whipped to you, and the candies he had been picking away at fell from his hand, M&Ms of all colors scattering across an equally ugly, beige tiled floor, but neither of you cared. “Are you sure?”

You snorted. “Pretty sure.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound insensitive,” he blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair, “It’s just—”

“It’s fine, Roose. I asked myself the same question about fifty times before the doctor confirmed it.”

He nodded. “How are you feeling? Wait, does he know?”

You shook your head, considering before saying, “I am happy, though. Absolutely terrified, but happy. I just don’t know how he’s going to react.”

Rooster took your hand in his and laid his other on top until a warmth encased your fingers, but the act made it all the more difficult to hold in the overwhelming tears you didn’t even know were at the ready to fall. “Shocked at first, I’m sure.”

You sniffed and wiped at your cheeks.

“But anything less than absolutely thrilled would be hard to imagine.”

“Can you know that?”

“Y/N, you think he’d be upset that you’re carrying his child when he loves you as much as he does?”

Jake loving you wasn’t something you had to question. Both of you knew a life together was what you wanted. But the pieces of that life that, for you, when combined would make a beautiful whole: a marriage, a house, a kid or two, somehow you and Jake never actually got around to discussing. Instead of talking about everything, the two of you made plans to talk. At the time of the plan-making you didn’t quite see the difference, but now, understanding how close you came to losing Jake, you realized that talking and planning to talk were most definitely not the same.

So here you were, living by what you assumed Jake wanted with you, what you were ninety-nine percent sure he wanted. But ninety-nine percent was not a hundred, and Jake had never explicitly told you he wanted to get married, he never told you he wanted children. That one percent could flip your world upside down if it turned out that’s where his wants, thoughts, and intentions laid.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in question.

“You’re getting that glazed over look in your eyes,” Rooster waved his hand in front of your face. “I get nervous when you overthink.”

Shaking your head, you pressed your fingertips against your closed eyelids until you saw little colorful spots in the darkness. When you opened them, a hazy purple hovered around the intense overhead lights, and you blinked hard a few times to readjust your vision.

“I’m just tired,” you said. A half-truth, but the yawn that followed your words aided in convincing Rooster.

“You going to stay here tonight?”

“Is that allowed?”

Your friend tilted his head and ran his tongue over his teeth. You could practically see the gears turning in that crafty mind of his. “Probably not, but I could try to work my charm.”

“Your charm? On what?”

“Not what, who.” He chuckled at the concerned look that took over your face, then he stood and asked for your house key, which you handed him. “That cute nurse kept looking at me in some sort of way and was doing an awful lot of blushing,” he continued, a playful smirk on his lips as he tossed your key up and caught it again. “I think I might just be able to get you an overnight free pass and me a date at the same time.”

“Oh, I have no doubt in your abilities.”

Carried by the confident stride that historically had every girl but you and Phoenix swooning, Rooster went to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit with a change of clothes for the both of you,” he said. Then with a wink and a click of the tongue, he left, the door closing gently behind him.

 ---

 It was soft, warm presses on your forehead and spine shuddering tingles from light tugging on your hair that roused you. Your brow pinched as the arm you’d thrown over Jake’s waist squeezed and tightened in a dazed attempt to pull him closer.

A little grunt echoed in your ear followed by a calm whispering. “Ow, baby. I’m bruised there.”

Then the kisses to your forehead and the sifting of his fingers through the strands of your hair continued, lulling you back to sleep. You were almost gone when your mind finally caught up with your surroundings, and your head shot up as you said,

“Jake?”

Eyes met, and he immediately frowned. “Why did that come out like a question?” he asked. “Was there another pilot’s hospital bed that you were supposed to be crawling into?”

You wiggled your body up a bit until you could press your lips to his.

He chuckled into the innocent kiss, his large hand moving to cup your cheek.

“Are you ok?” you asked when you separated. “When did you wake up?”

A smile spread wide across his face at your eagerness as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “An hour ago. And I feel fine, baby. Beat to hell, but fine,” he said, pecking your lips.

“Beat to hell means you’re not fine.”

“Well, the nice nurse came to check on me and said I’ll live, so that’s good enough. Though she didn’t seem that surprised to see you in my bed at one a.m.” a blond eyebrow quirked, “I was scrambling to come up with an excuse, but she didn’t even acknowledge that you were here; just worked around you while you were laying all over me.”

“Rooster may have done me a favor,” you said.

You glanced over to the short row of plastic chairs where you and Rooster had sat hours before to find one of your drawstring bags, likely stuffed with clothes for the morning. He’d clearly come through, in more ways than one, and you were absolutely going to grill him for the details of his date the next time you saw him. But right now, that wasn’t what was at the forefront of your mind. You needed to tell Jake before you lost your nerve. The band-aid needed to be ripped off before it reached the point of being disrespectful for not telling him. And as it was, you were pushing it.

Turning back to your boyfriend, you said, “Jake, I have to tell you something.”

“Uh-oh.” He gave you a bright smile that didn’t quite conceal the hint of nerves.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “No, it’s not bad. Well, maybe—well, no it’s fine, I think. Yea…yea, it’s ok—we’re going to be ok.” You took a deep breath, then the words spilled from your lips in an anxious, rushing wave that left no room for you to properly inhale. “Basically, I wasn’t feeling all that great, but I didn’t think twice about it because it didn’t seem like that big of a deal, and you know how I am when I think I’m getting sick, I just ignore it, so I did, but then it got worse and worse and I got annoyed about it, and then I started having other symptoms and I thought I was going crazy so I took a test, and then four more tests, and they all had the same result, so what I’m trying to say is that I’m—I’m—”

“Pregnant?” He finished for you, his voice soft, eyebrows pinched.

You bit down hard on your bottom lip. “A bit, yea.”

The unreadable expression on his face completely unnerved you. A million questions flashed across those green eyes of his, but he settled on: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how you were going to react.” Which you knew wasn’t a good enough reason to keep it from him, more so considering that you wanted the baby. You wanted to be a mother, and you wanted him to want to be a father. But in the minute and a half you’d given him to adjust to this information—impatience overpowering your ability to be fair—he wasn’t giving you any indication of wanting the same. “How are you reacting exactly? I can’t tell.”

“How far along are you?”

“That’s not really an answe—”

“Y/N.” He shot you stern look that was a little too reminiscent of the look he’d often given you that somehow never failed to get you into bed; a look that sparked the event that lead you to be in your current state.

You sighed and sat up, one leg folding in front of you, the other dangling off the side of the bed. “A few weeks.”

The bubble of disappointment you expected to consume you both didn’t come, but neither did Jake smile with full commitment. The corners of his lips didn’t reach far enough up his cheeks to convince you of its sincerity; that rare meadow-green shade of his irises didn’t shine any brighter, or glisten with unshed tears of joy, which you also would have settled for. You couldn’t decipher what was in front of you, but then he said,

“Come here.”

“Ja—”

The deep noise he made in his throat as he shook his head stopped you. Grabbing your hand in his, he guided you closer, then he patted your side to let you know to straddle his hips. You settled yourself down and rested your hands on either side of his neck while his own slowly slid up down the tops of your thighs.

“Y/N, I’ve known that I want to marry you and have you as the mother of my children for a while now,” he said, finally grinning in a way that lessened the uneasy rapidity of your heartbeat. “So, seeing as we’ve just ticked one of those boxes, how do you feel about ticking the other one?”

“Wh—” The words, you definitely heard, but the comprehension of those words momentarily short-circuited your brain. “Are you—” Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Jake…are you serious?”

“I obviously wasn’t planning on doing this in a hospital bed, and the ring is at home, but—”

“You have a ring?”

He ran a knuckle over the blush that coated your cheeks. “I’ve had a ring,” he said, “for a month. I couldn’t figure out how I wanted to ask you, but I don’t want to wait anymore. I love you.”

You leaned your body into his, chests meeting, and wrapped your arms around his neck. It was a melting feeling to be so close to him, the warmth of your combined body heat practically joining you as one despite the layers of clothing between you. But it was always that way with Jake. From the moment you met, if his hands were on you, you were putty for him, completely malleable and moldable for him to do with what he wished.

Mouths barely brushed against one another. You whispered, “I love you,” and before you could close the space to kiss him deeper, he beat you to it, putting a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you forward so your lips could perfectly slot together.

You don’t know what you would have done if you’d lost this, lost him. But now it wasn’t only you, it was your child as well. Your son or daughter who might never have met their father. So you kissed him for more than just the feel and taste of him. You kissed him for more than just expressing your love. You kissed him because he was real and alive, and you shared something that would forever bind you.

You kissed until you forgot what it was to breathe, and it forced you to pull yourself away.

Calloused hands cupped your cheeks. Thumbs ran back and forth along your cheekbones. His eyes scanned over the features of your face, lazily lingering, in no rush to speak or end this moment of simply knowing without the slightest complication or hesitation that you loved one another. You loved one another and everything you made.

“Will you marry me, Y/N,” he asked, “…please.”

A mocking gasp of shock parted your lips. “Did Jake Seresin just say please?”

He swatted your ass. Your chuckles mingled. “This is a yes or no question, Miss Y/L/N. It does not require additional question or commentary.”

“Yes, Jake,” you didn’t hesitate to say. “Of course, it’s a yes.”

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss​ @nobody7102​ @marrianena​ @fangirlingoverfangirls​ @blue-aconite​ @my-soulmate-is-mycroft​ @dempy​ @chaoticassidy​ @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​

[gatorbites-imagines]

jasons your favorite? then I will gladly request more jason content! Since the reader is older and has more experience, could we have a fic/headcanons were the reader is teaching jason stuff ((like combat for example)). but is a little more hands on when teaching? grabbing his hips and hands to direct him into the right stance, etc. reader also pics up on how flustered it's making jason and relentlessly teases him for it? ((we really need more mlm and nblm writers out there, so thank you :D))

Jason Todd x Male reader

Headcanon

 Jason Todd enjoyers come get yall juice (I am Jason Todd enjoyer)

This is in the same universe as my Sub Jason Todd headcanons.

-          You and Jason had been officially together for a while, though you had told no one. Everyone else just assumed the two of you saw eye to eye on things, and that you might have taken a mentor like position for the still growing Red Hood.

-          Little did they know that yes you were teaching Jason the many things you had learned through trial and error in the many years you had been doing this, but you also got to hold and kiss the younger man, who seemed to preen at the very thought of positive attention.

-          It was when Jason returned home with a bullet wound in his side, scraped knees from a botched landing and a cut from what you assumed was a pocketknife on his thigh that you decided to teach him your tricks.

-          Pulling some strings and calling some contacts, you were able to get access to a high-quality gym and shooting range in Gotham, one that even the bats didn’t seem to know about as it hadn’t been taken down for at least the 20+ years you’d been doing this.

-          It started with teaching Jason different ways to hold and use guns than what the league of assassins taught him. Your opinion was that if you learned how one league member fought, you knew how they all fought.

-          During gun training, you ended up leaning your chest against Jason’s back, and reached around him to adjust his grip and would nudge his thigh with your knee.

-          In reality you knew you didn’t have to do this, but the flush that would appear on Jason’s cheeks was enough to keep you going. You were teaching him ,whilst also teasing him. A win-win in your opinion.

-          You trained him in everything from guns to knives to bombs, to how to use everyday items as weapons and how to treat even the most strange of wounds. You wouldn’t explain to him how you knew how to treat a stab wound from a plastic spoon. It wasn’t one of your proudest moments.

-          During the training you would regularly lean close to Jason, brush your lips against his ear when giving him pointers, or your hands would linger a little too long on his thighs or hips.

-          When you started rewarding him with kisses, Jason seemed even more motivated to get it right.

-          This made you chuckle and shake your head, as you’d always kiss him if given the chance, and you rather enjoyed teasing him over giving kisses, but if that’s what Jason wanted it was what you would give him.

-          Though you still took any chance you had to tease your boyfriend. Though it typically ended with Jason hitting you on the chest with a beet red face, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout as he called you an idiot.

-          Even with all the teasing and non-training that happened, Jason learned a lot under you that he didn’t learn from the league.

-          You were very happy when he came home without any wounds and only minor bruises, it especially made you grin when Jason recounted his evening and told you of how he ran circles around Batman and his coven of many adopted children.

-          You made sure you reward Jason for all of this of course, which only made Jason want to learn even more. Both because of the reward and because he became more skilled than he ever though he would be under your tutoring.

[fleckcmscott]

Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04​ for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too. 

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara​ @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​ @jokerownsmysoul​ @rafaelbottom​ @ralugraphics​ @iartsometimes​

[lysxandre-archived]

@frigidlord​ is getting a gift. 

Of course, Lysandre couldn’t give a simple gift to save his life- since he does so enjoy the act of giving. However, he has also reasoned out that getting Ghetsis something- typical- isn’t quite going to cut it. He doesn’t want to bother the man only to give him something meaningless. 

He had a singular idea. 

There was, among the digital rubble, quite a few gems- but only one really caught his attention. It was in pieces, of course. Xerosic had been working on it for some time, it seemed like- before he was either forced to stop or killed. 

Had Interpol come and swept up the mess? Kalos was a crater. Downright uninhabitable still, in some central areas. But Xerosic’s notes did not end when the weapon fired. He must have had a way out. Of course he did. He wasn’t stupid enough to hang around while Lysandre lost his mind. 

All the better. He’d made great progress, and the result was rather complete, overall. He’d been wondering about it for so long, and finally having a working model--- oh, it was a beautiful thing! One or two messy trial runs was an expected outcome, but Xerosic was (is?) nothing short of a genius, and this is nothing short of perfect. 

So, Lysandre has made his presence known- along with that of a guest. She stands so much shorter than he does, and seems to be in rather plain, average dress. She looked like he’d simply chosen a person that had been out walking, even looking around, seemingly petrified, hanging onto Lysandre’s arm like he was the only solid thing in the world. 

“I should explain.” he says, presenting the young woman, “This is Essentia. And she’s anything you want her to be.” 

With a bit of flourish, his hands go straight to her face, which is promptly removed to reveal a shining plastic dome--- underneath the helmet-like exterior, is an absolutely dizzy Team Plasma Grunt, who falls to their knees trying to regain their balance. 

“It’s called an Expansion Suit.” Lysandre explains, “Think of it as a programmable trainer. A person wearing this can adopt any disguise by projecting the right image, can override the effects of various Pokéballs used in battle, enhance their natural abilities, and... be controlled remotely. It hardly matters who wears it- though I wouldn’t suggest putting it on, yourself. At least not with someone else holding the controller, unless you enjoy being controlled from the inside out.” 

His grin is positively wolfish as he shows off his latest toy. And, of course, Ghetsis’ new toy as well. 

“Imagine having a trainer you can hide in plain sight, a trainer that you control in every conceivable way- every pulse of electricity through their brain answers to one remote, and that’s this one. You can have total physical obedience using as little as a voice command.” 

Sure, it boggles their brains and occasionally leaves the wearer unconscious, but they could- probably- make adjustments. 

“It’s the last thing Team Flare had a claim to, and since Team Flare is no longer, I would like it to belong to someone who may have a use for it. I have exactly twelve working models- all yours.” 

And with that, he offers the other man the controller. He thinks he hears the grunt becoming sick in the corner, but- that’s a small price to pay for mind control. 

“I think you’ll like it much better than the watch I was considering for you.” 

[alindakb]

Silent Tears - Chapter 3.3 - by Alinda

Teddy sits in front of the coffee table. His crayons spread out over the entire surface, a blank piece of parchment in front of him. Two finished drawings lay next to Draco on the sofa. The first one is a dragon, the one Harry had defeated when he was still in school. The second one is the one Draco wants to tear apart. Teddy had drawn a house that looks just like the one they are in now. In front of it are Harry and Draco. Harry, with a massive lightning bolt on his forehead and Draco, with white hair. Teddy is in it too, holding Draco’s hand. And that is all fine. Draco has seen many drawings that feature him and Harry. But this one is different. In the background sits a large dog. When Draco asked about it, Teddy shook his head and said it was a wolf, just like daddy. The wolf has a puppy on his back. Teddy said it was his baby brother that is now in heaven. And ever since Teddy spoke those words, Draco hasn’t been able to take his eyes off the drawing and the representation of his unborn baby. The baby Draco lost. The little brother he stole away from Teddy.

“How long before Harry comes home?” Teddy asks. It snaps Draco out of his thoughts. He looks up and hopes he doesn’t have tears in his eyes. The last thing he wants to do is upset Teddy.

“Not long. He said he would be back around six with dinner,” Draco says.

“And what time is it now?” Teddy asks.

Draco cast a Tempus to find out. “It’s ten for six,” he tells Teddy.

Teddy bites his lip and looks at his empty parchment “Do you think I can draw grandma’s house in ten minutes?” he asks.

“It’s a small home. You might be able to,” Draco answers. Teddy nods in conformation and picks up a bright green crayon. He starts outlining a house with his tongue stuck between his lips. Draco looks away, out of the window. The neighbour's house has a garland in front of the window. Draco spotted it this morning, just before he was supposed to go to work. He ended up staying at home. He called in sick and cried half the day away. The garland is still there now, the words a sting into Draco’s heart. It’s a girl, is all it says. And Draco knows it’s insane, but he wants to grab a rock from the garden and smash the window and destroy the garland.

The front door opens, and Teddy jumps up from the floor. “Harry is home,” he yells before he runs into the hallway. Draco startles from the words. He wipes his hand over his eyes in the hope Harry won’t notice he’s been crying again. He will try to comfort Draco, tell him their time will come. But Draco can’t stand it anymore. Harry has no reason to be nice to Draco when it comes to this. It’s Draco’s fault they lost their baby and haven’t been able to conceive again. Draco has done horrible things, worse than most in the war, and now he gets what he deserves. And that will never change.  

“I brought Chinese,” Harry says when he walks into the room, a white plastic bag in his hand, a smile on his face and an excited Teddy right behind him. Draco gets up from the sofa without returning the smile. He doesn’t say a word when he walks towards the kitchen, unsure if he can keep his composure. Harry stops him with a soft hand on his shoulder. He leans in and places a peck on Draco’s cheek. “Are you okay?” Harry asks.

“I’m fine,” Draco snaps. “Just hungry. It’s been a long day.”

“Okay,” Harry says. The smile on his face wavers, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Dinner is a silent affair. Teddy looks between Draco and Harry and hardly eats any of his food. Just like Draco and Harry. Most of the food containers end up in the fridge for another day. Harry takes Teddy upstairs to get him ready for bed. Draco lets him. It’s easier that way. Draco shouldn’t be allowed to look after the boy at all. He should be in jail, locked away for life for his crimes. But no, the Saviour had given a good word for him during his trial, and Draco was let off with a year's probation at Hogwarts. And that was hardly a punishment, as it was the year he and Harry had fallen in love and Draco had started to believe that he could be happy.

Draco closes his eyes and lets his hands rest on the counter. He can’t stop the thoughts from taking over. The hateful remarks people make, the howlers that still come sometimes, to remind him of the scum he is and that Harry deserves better. Like Draco doesn’t know this. He is the reason their saviour is unhappy, still childless, and all Harry ever wanted was to have a big family.

“Teddy is in bed. He asks me if we are going to split up,” Harry's voice comes from the doorway. “I told him not to be silly, that sometimes adults are a bit cranky too, that nothing is wrong. And then he told me you cried this afternoon.”

Draco shakes his head. He knows what comes now, the sweet words, the pity and worry. He hates that he does this to Harry. That he makes him worry, that he ruins his good day.

“Is it because of the banner at the neighbours?” Harry asks. His voice closer now, just behind Draco.

Draco nods in confirmation. Harry’s arms slide around Draco’s waist, and he rests his head on Draco’s back. “It’s okay to be sad,” Harry says.

“I’m not sad,” Draco answers. “I’m jealous. Of them, of Hermione, of Pansy.” He shakes Harry off him and storms away.

“Draco, please don’t walk away. I get it, I feel it too. You don’t have to hide this from me,” Harry says.

The desperation in Harry’s voice stops Draco in his tracks. “I want it so badly,” Draco chokes out. He turns and looks at Harry. “I’m a horrible person. I’ve upset Teddy, and you. This is not what you need when you come home from work. Bloody hell, I’m a mess. I’m supposed to be happy for our friends. But I’m not, Harry. I’m angry, and I hate them for having what we can’t have.”

Harry takes Draco’s hand in his. “Don’t give up hope, Draco. Our time will come.” Harry looks up at Draco, his green eyes still filled with hope. Draco can’t take it. Harry should hate him. But the man in front of him loves him. Draco doesn’t understand. After all, Draco has done, after the massive price Harry paid for Draco’s actions. Sirius would still be here, for one. Draco is sure of it. And now Draco is the reason why Harry is going to be childless for the rest of his life. How is it that Harry can just let all that slide and still love him?

“And what if it doesn’t?” Draco asks. He closes his eyes. He can’t stand the thought of looking into the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen when they break his heart.

Harry’s hand cups Draco’s face. His finger strokes over the skin like it’s made of porcelain. “Then there are other options we can look into. Dean said they might adopt in the future, and Hermione showed me some leaflets about surrogates.”

“It won’t be ours then,” Draco whispers. The options don’t sound like solutions, like other things they could look into. They just show how much Draco failed Harry.

“Draco, Teddy isn’t ours either. Doesn’t mean I don’t see him as my own. He’s our boy. I know you feel that way too. There isn’t a thing in the world you won’t do for him. And all I want is to extend our little family. I don’t care how, as long as I can do it with you” Harry says.

Tears fall from Draco’s eyes. His hand trembles in Harry’s, who squeezes it lightly. “I love you, Draco. And I hate seeing you in pain.”

“I love you too,” Draco answers. He lets his weight drop against Harry’s body, rests his head on his shoulder. Harry places his arms around Draco and hugs him. It helps a little with chasing away the demons in Draco’s head. But they won’t disappear, they keep nagging at the edge of his mind.

“Does Draco need Teddy-bear?” Teddy asks. Draco hasn’t heard him come down and into the room. He hopes the boy hasn’t seen much of what just happened. It’s already bad enough that Draco cried in front of him this afternoon without even realising it.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Harry asks Teddy.

“I wanted to say goodnight to Draco. Tell him not to be sad, that my mom and dad will look after my little brother.”

Draco turns so he can look at Teddy. The boy is in his dragon pyjamas and holds Teddy-bear in his small hand. Draco kneels in front of him, and Teddy falls into his arms. “I love you, Draco. Don’t be sad.”

“I love you too, Teddy,” Draco tells him. “I’ll take Teddy-bear tonight. And then I’ll feel better tomorrow, I promise. Now let us get you back into bed.”

Teddy agrees and takes Draco’s hand. Together they walk back to Teddy’s bedroom where Draco tucks the boy into bed. He kisses him on the forehead before he leaves the room. Harry is right about one thing, Teddy is their boy, no matter who his birth parents are, and Draco would do anything in his power to make sure he knows he’s loved and safe.

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, October 12

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Queen Elizabeth’s 73-year sham marriage to Prince Philip collapses

Page 2: Kanye West is in top-secret talks to launch his own TV network and is crowing it will be bigger than the Kardashians -- he wants it to reflect his lofty vision of what the world should be and to provide a spiritual awakening for the masses but he doesn’t realize there aren’t a lot of people who want to spend hours a day listening to him rant about how the world would be a better place if he was in charge -- meanwhile Kim Kardashian is at the end of her rope again 

Page 3: Furious Angelina Jolie is tearing into Brad Pitt’s new girlfriend Nicole Poturalski blasting her as a scheming psycho and as a borderline stalker who is dating Brad just to get famous and it’s going to end in disaster for the whole family not just him so she’s already told Brad to keep Nicole away from their kids and she’s looking to make this part of their ongoing legal case 

Page 4: Newly single Kelly Clarkson has enlisted fellow country star Maren Morris to help her find a new man -- Maren advised Kelly to use her talk show to connect with men she admires but Kelly may have taken her advice a little too literally when she had her crush Keanu Reeves on the show and was drooling all over him though she knows it’s probably wishful thinking 

Page 5: Ellen DeGeneres kicked off her new season by publicly apologizing for allegations of misconduct on her talk show but body language experts blasted her remarks as tone deaf and missing the mark totally 

Page 6: Jimmy Fallon’s wife Nancy Juvonen is furious over the time he spends nurturing his bond with close pal Kathie Lee Gifford -- Jimmy loves to reminisce about the old days at NBC with the former Today yakker especially during today’s challenging times and he worships her and he’s the only late-night host who treats Kathie Lee like an A-lister but Nancy can’t stand Kathie Lee’s constant self-obsessed talk and considers her a squeaky third wheel 

Page 7: Cher keeps trying to turn back time with plastic surgery but the results have been disastrous and although she insists her most recent work is a facelift her kisser is frozen and packed with Botox and fillers and lip injections -- she also appears to have had a nose job and a face and neck lift to achieve a smooth jawline and neck and the results have left Cher barely able to move her face and even made it difficult for her to speak let alone sing, disgraced chef Paula Deen had emergency eye surgery this summer in a desperate bid to save her sight -- Paula had been suffering from declining vision for months and was shocked when doctors told her the cornea was dying and going under the knife was necessary to save her sight 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Tiger Woods took a brief break during practice, Leighton Meester caught some waves in Malibu, Kristen Taekman in a New York Jets bikini, Dolph Lundgren doffed his mask after leaving a lunch date in Beverly Hills, Dominic Cooper took his electric bike for a spin in London 

Page 11: Cash-strapped Tori Spelling and husband Dean McDermott are back in couples therapy and on the verge of filing for bankruptcy -- they’re in counseling for the same old stuff which is their constant fighting and spending money and work that isn’t happening -- the parents of five were hit with tax liens totaling nearly $1 million and were also sued by American Express over an unpaid credit card bill of almost $90,000 which Tori asked her mother Candy Spelling who is worth about $600 million to pay but Candy refused and after Candy revealed her plans to leave her fortune to animal charities Tori and Dean may file for bankruptcy because they both love to spend, Bravo bigwigs are hoping hotel heiress Kathy Hilton will fill the vacancy left by Denise Richards and Teddi Mellencamp on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and producers are trying to keep ratings high by getting veteran Kyle Richards to recruit sister and former castmate Kim Richards and half sister Kathy -- Kathy is said to be high on producers’ wish list because of her wit and humor and is also considered old-school Beverly Hills and show brass want her to bring a certain glamour and sophistication to the show 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Demi Lovato at a NYC screening party (picture), when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve in Times Square Anderson Cooper won’t be there because he would rather be at home with his baby boy, The Bachelor has cut all ties with Colton Underwood after his ex Cassie Randolph got a temporary restraining order against him, Teresa Giudice plans to move to NYC after listing her New Jersey mansion but she still wants to keep her job on The Real Housewives of New Jersey and to get around that Teresa hopes to pretend she’s moved into her brother Joe Gorga’s home in Jersey 

Page 13: John Legend revealed couples therapy helps strengthen his marriage to Chrissy Teigen and said they keep their romance going strong by communicating and being considerate and listening, Jackie Stallone was more than just Sylvester Stallone’s mom -- she was also one of the world top astrologers and psychics who predicted the fall of the Berlin Wall and Kanye West’s presidential run 

Page 14: Crime -- convicted Melrose Place killer Amy Locane is in lockup again for a fatal 2010 drunk-driving smashup that took one life and nearly took another after a New Jersey Superior Court Judge said she got off too easy by serving two years behind bars and sentenced Amy to eight more years in state prison 

Page 15: The gruesome house of horrors where Drew Carey’s ex-fiancee Amie Harwick brutally met her untimely end is on the market for $1.5 million and her family can’t wait to get rid of it, Shannen Doherty is in pretty good spirits amid her ongoing battle with stage 4 breast cancer according to her former Beverly Hills 90210 co-star Jason Priestley

Page 16: Cover Story -- After decades of turning a blind eye to her husband’s cheating Queen Elizabeth’s 72-year marriage has shockingly collapsed and Prince Philip is now banished to a remote cottage far away from the monarch -- despite royal courtiers painting a rosy picture of the couple quarantining together at Windsor Castle since March the truth is their marriage has been a sham for decades and they’ve been living separate lives for over 50 years and all this forced togetherness was simply too much for them -- Philip has been cheating on Elizabeth since before they were married and has several love children; he has rumored to have had flings with actress Helene Cordet and Daphne du Maurier and Pat Kirkwood and Jane Russell and Merle Oberon and Zsa Zsa Gabor and Princess Alexandria and Sacha Duchess of Abercorn and most recently Lady Penny Romsey -- there will be no divorce and they will just quietly continue their separate lives to the end of their days but the queen never wants to see Philip again 

Page 18: Larry King’s estranged wife Shawn Southwick is demanding $33,000 a month in spousal support because she claims she gave up her music and TV career to marry the frail talk show host and then raise their sons Chance and Cannon, Hollywood Hookups -- Halle Berry and Van Hunt dating, 90 Day Fiance stars Ashley Martson and Jay Smith split for good, Justin Duggar dating Claire Spivey 

Page 19: Tom Cruise is set to shoot the first major movie in outer space and he’s headed to the International Space Station in October 2021 with director Doug Liman -- the two and possibly one additional actor will hitch a ride aboard Elon Musk’s SpaceX Crew Dragon capsule to film the unnamed project, the IV needle allegedly used to administer the fatal dose of propofol to Michael Jackson on June 25 of 2009 is up for auction by the estate of the late singer’s father Joe and the chilling item used by Michael’s physician Dr. Conrad Murray is reportedly still stained with Michael’s blood -- it was submitted to the auction by Michael’s cousin Marsha Stewart who says she took it from Michael’s bedroom days after he died, Sharon Stone has pressed her lips on a long list of Hollywood hunks but picked Robert De Niro as far and away the best kisser but rated her other leading men as kind of like meh 

Page 20: Stars Playing Stars -- how they did it -- Muhammad Ali and Will Smith, Frida Kahlo and Salma Hayek, Ray Charles and Jamie Foxx 

Page 21: Marilyn Monroe and Michelle Williams, Queen Elizabeth and Helen Mirren, Billie Holiday and Diana Ross, Bob Dylan and Cate Blanchett 

Page 22: An adopted son of Mia Farrow and Woody Allen has charged it was his mother not his father who was the monster in the family -- Moses Farrow says Woody did not molest adopted daughter Dylan Farrow in 1992 and that he can no longer stay silent as Woody continues to be condemned for a crime he did not commit 

Page 26: Less than nine months after Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianna died in a helicopter crash a vicious feud has ripped the family apart -- the row erupted between his widow Vanessa Bryant and her mother Sofia Laine after Sofia went on TV to publicly accuse her daughter of tossing her out of the family home -- Vanessa feels she’s already given her mom so much and then she heard through the grapevine that Sofia complained she should have more -- it does seem cold that Vanessa would take such action against her mother but she’s ready to take on anyone using her husband and child’s deaths as a selfish cash grab and that includes Sofia 

Page 27: Danny Masterson’s rape trial is looming and the Church of Scientology is doing everything in its power to back the scandal-scarred actor -- the church’s leaders have assigned their top lawyers to aid Danny who is a prominent member of the religion and the lawyers are scouring every law on the books to get the case thrown out or get him acquitted -- the church has previously been accused of trying to get the other side’s defenses dismissed or judges thrown off cases and using all manner of tactics to delay due process 

Page 28: American Life -- Bighearted ex-billionaire Chuck Feeney has spent 38 years giving away nearly all of his vast fortune and the generous do-gooder said he wouldn’t have had it any other way 

Page 29: Famed stoner Willie Nelson can’t stop sampling his own marijuana products and now friends fear the 87-year-old music legend is smoking himself to death -- Willie’s a believer in the powers of cannabis and promotes it passionately but years of smoking has done a number on his lungs and he can barely breathe at times, Julia Duffy has been keeping close a tragic heartache for more than a year -- her only son Danny Lacy committed suicide at age 29 after years of suffering from mental health issues 

Page 34: Comic Kathy Griffin has seen her popularity plummet in recent years and it’s played a role in her plans to sell her sprawling Bel Air estate -- Kathy has burned a lot of bridges and concerts and TV appearances have dried up because of her many industry conflicts so she’s trying to unload her massive manor with wine cellar and movie theater and eight bedrooms for $16 million -- she didn’t want to sell it but the cost and size have become too much for her to handle 

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: CIA bigwigs once hired a psychic to determine if there was life on Mars -- the misguided mission was said to be part of Project Stargate which was launched in 1978 and somehow cost an astronomical $20 million after the CIA hired a man who claimed he could see the surface of the planet in his mind -- the unnamed man claimed he could see huge pyramids and an obelisk structure and road networks on the Red Planet as well as living creatures, John Lennon’s killer Mark David Chapman shocked the parole board when he admitted he deserved the death penalty even as he begged for his freedom at his last hearing -- his murderous motive was seeking self-glory -- the board denied his parole saying they found his statement infamy brings you glory disturbing 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- London Fashion Week 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Luke Bryan and his dog Choc 

Page 47: Odd List -- doctors remove granny’s football-sized tumor 

[currentfandomkick]

So previous part here

Danny’s adoption as far as GZ in concerned requires Plas to indergo some trials to prove himself as Danny—debated between being the Future King or exalted as the Will of the Infinite—‘s majority caretaker on the mortal side.

A mentorship is one thing—parenthood is taken far more seriously. Especially for a traumatized child ghost.

So, premise aside, lets begin!

Phantom had been beaming for a while. Everyone knew that. Between the JL spot and having a mentor, Amity “Mittens” Park knew her guard was more content than he’d been in a long, long time.

The city spirit was proud for him. Few kept their cool when it came three ancients appearing on their doorstep.

Her guard had chosen his mortal fright well. Between Undergrowth’s High Priestess and the Pharaoh reincarnation his choice of peers, though limited, was good… but he lacked suitable guiding presences.

There is only so much Amity can do herself. She’s not quite physical enough to manifest, no idea to form her base around. And she is not mortal, so how could she ever help?

As the witness to her guard’s life and death, her vote would hold the most sway, regardless of the Trials’ outcome.

Her wonderful guard found himself a father, she would see that this bond is acknowledged.

Nerves flooded Phantom’s form again. He twisted his tail around Plas’ arm and held Cujo close to his chest.

The JL light side hadn’t caught the implications of his potential adoption. They didnt have the whole story on Danny’s place in the Infinite’s pecking order…

Plas does.

Unfortunately, so does the JL Dark. Which is why Plas was checking over anything he should prepare for them by customs and for the usual rites for Living adopting a “Curtain Child” as Constaintine’s text dubbed Danny and his cohorts.

He’s not sure if he should just… ignore the scholarly term for his kind or not. On one hand, he’s been calling himself a halfa since he stopped saying he was a living boy with ghost powers. He’s hyperliminal—functionally dead on command, as far as Yeti were concerned atleast. He straddles the line of liminal and death, while remaining a living being. Three for one deal and passable as all three and not at once.

Halfas aren’t super rare naturally so much as exterminated en masse in the past, and the word for ‘too dead to be liminal’ that survived was, well, halfa. the slur used to justify genocide.

But his alternative was hyperliminal (which he barely qualifies as given he transforms and liminals just exist as ‘merged’ with the opposite natural state (be it mortal side or infinite) and the bucket of issues of using the wrong medical term as a species indicator. Or “Curtain Child” which. No.

Where was he? Oh right, finding Plas before the Trials and his death day and the ‘clock’ starts.

“Patro?” Danny began as he flew into the room.

Zatanna’s eyebrows shot up. Constantine turned to him slowly. Deadman was too happy for Danny’s taste—the off-ecto leaving a sickly sweet-bitter blend in the back of his throat.

“You good kiddo?” Plastic man ran a hand though Danny hair while Danny looped his tail around his arm.

He leaned into it.

“Just nerves. Mittens already approved, but Grandfather can be… intense. So can Auntie Dora, and Nocturne is a wild card on a good day… those three claim parental fright rights and all over me and my dumbass agreed before i understood since i was new and Ember and Kitty and Johnny didnt know i didnt know and—“

Plasticman hummed louder than usual, glancing at his phone and opening one of those boring adult apps Danny can’t be bothered with at the moment.

Patro whistled. “No wonder, why don’t we head back home? Ellie and most of your fright will be there.”

Danny made a small noise of protest, but let his Patro lead the way to the zeta tubes.

“Your doctor said if you can’t be in your usual haunt for this, you should at least be in your nest back home, before the symptoms get worse.”

Danny huffed, looking about the stars. He wanted to fly among them but Patro said not until after his Death Day and they can see the affects.

So two days.

Basically forever.

—

Jazz raised an eyebrow at Ellie, Sam and Tucker. All flopped down in Danny’s “not a nest” of blankets and star projection lamp.

The stray cacti pots and tech were not unnoticed.

Not were Ellie’s pictures of her travels.

Jazz put bearert and danny old lego starships in before he got back.

“Any preferences on what disaster smoothies we give Danny?” Jazz began. “He’s not allowed chocolate during this time—and we cant give him caffeine so no teas, energy drinks and coffee…which Nasty Shake horrors are we unleashing?”

“Lunchlady already swung by with some sandwhiches,” Penny answered from the hallway.

Jazz opened and shut her mouth, forgetting that she didnt need to be in charge of things this time.

They have reliable adults.

Weird.

Good weird, but still weird.

“That covers ecto food, not what he needs on the living side,” Sam answered while typing away on her phone. “Best Red agreed to watch Amity for the week solo and send any updates of GIW and Fenton activity.”

Patrick slipped in with an anxious, seven tailed Danny in ghost form.

“And Technus is in their tech, so he’s having a blast destroying their mainframe and plans.”

“Good for him.” Patrick herded Danny into his blanket nest.

“Patro,” Danny huffed, looking to his frightmates for help.

“Oh no, your dad, your problem, remember?”

“Don’t make one excuse for you when you got caught hacking sulker and this is what i get?”

“Yep.”

“Some best friend,” danny grumbled, rubbing his arm as he began to burrow under a galaxy blanket and turned on his lamp.

Patrick turned off the lights.

“So as the lead of in best friend olympics—“

“Hey!”

“—i say we plot our revenge. Jazz, Ellie, you two dont have to join but we will accept suggestions.”

Jazz smiled as Danny relaxed, skin bursting with nebula freckles more puddle than person.

—

Patrick isn’t dumb.

He knows he’s being tested by the gods the second he closes the door.

He has to get the Master of Time, the Guardian of Hope and Sleep Soother(? He’s still not sure what title to use for this flavor or sandman) to approve during a trial each of then get to run.

He smiles at Penny before time freeze and the cursed Eyeballs nab him and complain about him ignoring procedure and blah blah blah.

Do they ever get tired of hearing themselves talk?

He doesnt think so…

A familiar council appear before him, for once less riddled with the eyeballs of bureaucratic nonsense and attempted murder. On one side a too familiar yeti waved enthusiastically at him from the side, while the horned cosmos man next to him flopped onto the table unmoving.

On the other side there was a familiar set of armor on an excitable giant who should be on Danny-Sitting a week after his death day. his least favorite trickster had the same grin on that meant Plas would be refereeing Dan and Danny’s “visits” where Dan chose to be a menace about fixing paradoxes and demanded Danny ask more questions while Danny just… did as the weird ageshifter asked before stealing another batch of cookies for himself and hoarding them from his frightmates.

The blue four armed lady in the middle clapped her hands together, waking up the other occupants in the room.

Plas still wasnt sure if said being was related to Wonder Woman or not. both were (sort of) daughters of Zeus but something about dead one being made from all the greek gods available? He tries not to think about it, and roll with the Infinite’s insanity.

“Welcome Plasticman,” a four armed woman began. “We have gathered here to test you to your limits and judge your worthiness as our little star and his moonbeam’s mortal-side parent.”

“Told you we should have tested the first ones,” grumbled the horned man. “Their subconscious was a hot mess and we all know what they turned his holidays into.”

The armor suit made disgruntled sounds on the side, grabbing for a dimension dumping sword.

“Danny was not ready,” the trickster stated. “If he was to leave his caregivers, it will always have to be on his own terms. Especially given his core’s state.”

“He would have accepted it if you let me have Jazz bring up the idea sooner,” Nocturne complained, turning to Clockwork’s child state with a scowl.

“But no. Not part of the plan. Like all your plans actually work out Mr. time madness”

“I have it under control.”

“For the moment,” Frostbite added in. “But you have relapsed before, and now the Great One acts as the counter and has lessened the load.”

“You’re forgetting my second ward.”

“We dont speak of him when it is not a matter of his parole,” Pandora interupted. “Especially when we are here to be certain that Danny is not allowing another, what was that word he like to use to describe the other halfa?”

“Fruitloop,” everyone else chimed in.

“… yes. To ensure no kore fruitloops and otherwise unfit parental figures are able to mistreat, neglect or abuse Danny and Danielle.”

“So, do i need a number 2 pencil for the test, or is it trial by combat or,” Plas listed off absently, watching the five carefully.

“We have each designed a trial or test of our own design. You will begin now.”

Next here

So, any ideas for the trials Plas has to go through?

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[inkribbon796]

Crackdown Ch. 3

Chapter 3: How I Learned to Quit Worrying and Give Parole a Chance

Summary: Roman and King swing by to talk to Yancy.

A/N: Title is a reference to Dr. Strangelove. This chapter happens at the same time as chapter 2. Final chapter coming out soon.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

When the Host had gathered the heroes for the massive arrest operation, he’d outlined Yancy as a difficult part of his plan, then told Roman he was the only possible way to get Yancy on parole.

At first Roman had rolled his eyes and figured that the Host was just being overdramatic about their chances. He’d been so overly confident he’d had Oliver, Bing. And King wait in another room.

But Roman had been wrong.

“Come on,” Roman pleaded, he was in full costume talking with Yancy in Happy Trails. Their discussion had gone from pleasant small talk to an absolute standstill.

“Why won’t any of youse understand that I don’t wants ta leave?” Yancy spat at Roman.

“You don’t find it a bit off putting that you barely have any memory of the event and you barely had a trial?”

“What does it matter?” Yancy shot back. “I’s killed people, good people. Did they’s tell youse what I’s did?”

“You killed your parents,” Roman answered gently.

“My biological parents,” Yancy added. “They’s were good people, wish I’d have known them more, they’s didn’t deserve what happened ta them. An’ I’s murdered them.”

“I understand that you’re afraid to get out there, but the facts are that you were being controlled by something and hiding in here isn’t helping, and if you need to get away from whatever was causing that horrible outburst, you need a place Dark can’t get into.” Roman was trying to stay calm but he didn’t understand why he had to be in here when Logan probably would have done a better job and this conversation would have been done hours ago.

At that point the door opened, and King walked in, he was in costume, but he took off his glasses and Yancy went completely still, “Kay?”

Roman stared at King, “Have you been pulling a Clark Kent this whole time?”

“Host’s enchantment works with on anything I put over my eyes,” King explained. “My glasses my goggles, not that I’m going to need them after tonight.”

“What’s goin’ on t’night?” Yancy asked in concern. “Where youse been, the Ol’ Man’s been looking fer youse fer ages?” Yancy asked.

“Cleaning up my record,” King answered, rubbing something on the frame of his glasses before putting them back.

“Youse gonna be at that awhile,” Yancy warned.

“Yeah, the government tends to remember embezzlement and fraud,” King agreed.

“I’s still don’t know why youse are here,” Yancy reminded. “Youse obviously like workin’ wit’ the heroes, I’m happy here. ‘Sides, we gots too different RAP sheets to take care ‘a an’ mine are way worse.”

King made a deep sigh, “Illy’s is longer.”

Yancy crossed his arms, closing himself off a bit, “No one beats Artie, no one.”

“How about this?” Roman cut in, Yancy not looking away from King. “You try it, and if it doesn’t work out you can come back here with your friends. We get proven wrong and you can stay here.”

Maybe it was how long the conversation had been going, the amount of people and forces pushing him to leave. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Yancy opened his mouth to refuse, like he had dozens of times, but to everyone’s surprise, especially his own, he answered, “Yes.”

King’s eyes were huge, and Roman looked excited.

“You won’t regret this,” Roman promised.

I already do, rattled around his skull as he watched Kay reach the door first.

“I’ll talk to the Warden,” King said and Yancy felt like everything was spinning out of control.

“Hey!” Yancy called putting and suddenly he was in almost the same room but it was darker and the table was made of wood instead of being hard plastic bolted to the floor.

The Host was sitting across the table, smiling at Yancy. Yancy felt that similar discomfort from the last time he’d met the mystery man in his locked solitary cell.

Yancy jumped, “Shit, youse can’t do that ta people.”

“The Host greets the prisoner,” the Host announced, “and hopes that he is well.”

“No, I’m not,” Yancy shouted, feeling all the anxiety and fear bubbling up inside him. “I’m already goin’ crazy an’ I’m not e’en out yet!”

“The Host assures Yancy that he is having a completely normal reaction and has not slipped into the Void yet,” the Host answered calmly.

“Normal, my ass,” Yancy slammed his fist on the table, before looking nervous. “I’s already slippin’.”

“Has Yancy ever played chess before,” the Host asked.

“I’s ain’t playin’ games wit’ yah, everytime I’s see yah yer like a creep,” Yancy spat. “What’s wrong wit’ youse?”

“The Host has a vested interest in Yancy’s well-being,” the Host answered, “and he has come to give Yancy a warning.”

“An’ I’s should listen ta youse, ‘cause?” Yancy demanded.

“Because if Yancy remains in the prison while the Actor is back in Egoton, it will result in the deaths of every staff member and inmate in Happy Trails, with exception to Yancy himself.”

Yancy just stared at him, “Dark?”

“He will not do so with the intention of reclaiming Yancy,” the Host admitted, “the victims in question will just have the unfortunate luck of being too close to where Yancy is.”

“An’ where should I be when Dark is on a murder spree? Next to him?” Yancy already felt like punching him.

“Or with the heroes,” the Host answered. “The Host is hoping to reduce casualties.”

“So what are youse getting out of this?” Yancy glared at him. “Money? Control?”

The Host knit his fingers together, “The Host had a previous life of kidnapping and murdering people in gruesome ways and to make up for that past self he is trying to save those he can.”

“Real noble fer the heroes ta take on convicted criminals,” Yancy commented.

“Oh, the Author died before he could be caught or convicted,” the Host smiled, Yancy froze uncomfortably still, staring at his adopted brother in shock. “That and he is overtly interested in one of the heroes’ doctors.”

Yancy chuckled at the familiar but unexpected comment, “Classy, Artie, real class act.”

The Host stood, “If Yancy will excuse the Host, he has to keep Dark from trying to kill several heroes. If Yancy cooperates with the heroes now, then when this is over he will make sure Yancy returns to Happy Trails, regardless of what the heroes or Dark want.”

Yancy thought on that, “I’ll hold you to it.”

Smiling, the Host disappeared and the room came back into focus, Roman and the Warden walking back in with some papers.

[dracula-in-purple-story]

One and Only

Poseidon’s Experience 

Poseidon, a Secret Agent Pokemon called Inteleon, experienced firsthand that his mother-figure is unique among the other trainers. His family is made up of abandoned, outcasted or just plain hungry Pokemons. He’s not complaining in the slightest.

“All right! Line up, everyone!” the weirdly-dressed man signalled Sobble and his friends to come forward. They obliged, earnestly ready to meet their potential trainer. Sobble was not mentally ready, he already showed his embarrassing crying face, which Scorbunny joked about him would be seen as a crybaby Pokemon. He took this seriously and had already imagined every outcome and every scenario that’s probably gonna happen. 

Good news, there’s two young humans in front of him. Bad news, they chose Grookey and Scorbunny. Of course, those humans would rather have a hyper Pokemon than a pathet-

“OH ARCEUS, VICTOR! GLORIA! WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP?!”

Just then, when he was about to lose hope and go back into his Poke Ball, a young long-hair human came rushing towards them. Another good news, the weirdly-dressed man just casually said she’s late and introduce him to her. 

He thought he knew what’s going to happen. The long-hair human would complain, make a tantrum, not going to see his potential, wait for another day to choose either Grookey or Scorbunny. Sobble witnessed this scene before back at the huge Pokemon Centre Headquarters. His fellow species got ridiculed for being a quick crybaby, after all.

“Oh! Em! Gee!” the long-hair human screeched as she hugged Sobble carefully, “I love him! He’s so cute!”

Except that he’s wrong. Sobble could not believe this. He wants to smile but he couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. The long-hair human noticed this but instead of ridiculing him like those humans before, she chuckled before cradling him.

“I’m honoured that you show such big reaction on being adopted-”

Adopted?

“-I am also glad to meet you and become your parent at the same time too!-”

You? Also glad to meet me? And want to become my mother?

“-My name’s Drac. Let me name you something unique, okay?”

I would have a name? But Grookey and Scorbunny does not have one... but if you insist...

Sobble nodded while sobbing and clinging to her purple sweater. When he finished his sobbing, Drac- no. Mommy raised him up so they could see eye-to-eye.

“Little guy,” she looks proud as she talked to him, “Your name would be Poseidon. The mythical Human God of the Sea.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Soy! Polly! Miro or whatever your name is! Come out in this instance before Mom realise that you guys go stealing people’s ingredients again or something!” Poseidon, now in his final evolution glory, shouted loudly as he watched two Thievuls and a Yamper sashayed back with suspiciously stolen goods in their mouths. When they put down the goods with pride, the Yamper sprinted down to the purple tent with skull patterns to find their human mother. 

“Poseidon, my humble apologies. Our son was really excited when he found lots of delicious foods for our mother. I do hope you could forgive him for such eagerness.” the Thievul with a Polly flower eyepatch smirked subtly. Her partner snickered. Poseidon rolled his eyes. 

Also wants to at least help his human mother, he decided to let this matter go by helping the Thievuls couple to sneak the stolen goods into Drac’s ingredients bag and hopefully she didn’t notice the slightly budging bag. 

And she didn’t. Not a bit of awareness as she simply grabbed the two loaves of bread that is in the ‘stolen’ pile. Poseidon facepalmed as he watched his mother feeding the Wooloos, the Dubwools, the Rookidees and the Metapods their share of foods respectively. 

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as they finished their lunch (in Poseidon’s term, after cooking 11 batches of food for almost 15 different types of Pokemons in fairly large number), the team went into training mode or ‘doing things they thought would help their human’ mode. Poseidon is at the latter mode, listing down Drac’s shopping list mentally as they jogged to Motostoke after leaving the tent under Rabifut the Raboot’s and Bachinki the Thwackey’s supervision. 

“I think we got everything. Something I miss, Poseidon?” Drac asked carefreely as she heaved up boxes of Potions, Heals and Poke Balls. He pondered a bit,  slinging the plastic bags full of basic materials for clothes and accessories, before doing some hand gestures.

[We still need Repel Sprays for the newly hatched babies and insulating materials for the Yampers to play with.] “Le, le, leon.”

“Oh yeah, Repel Sprays and insulating materials. Thanks for reminding!”

[You are welcome, forgetful Mom.] “Intel~!”

Onlookers always looked at them differently. The Old Humans would just thought that it’s child rambling and went on to their daily life. The Big Humans would joked about how weird his fourteen-years-old Mother was, which he was tempted to use his ‘Sling Shot’ move on them. The Little Humans and the Pokemons, however, would just gawked at the two of them. 

Poseidon knew what’s that reaction means, from the Pokemons’ point of view.

“Did that Human just repeat what he said and actually understands him?”

It’s nothing new for him. Ever since Drac taught him and the other Pokemons with ‘fingers’ sign languages one month ago, they communicate with her easily to let her know what they want and didn’t want. They also got appointed as translator for those ‘fingerless’ Pokemons. And occasionally, they just casually signed ‘I love you’ to her, making her laughed with joy.

Honestly, Poseidon and the rest of the group are lucky and happy with a mother-figure like her. Although they expressed their gratitude differently, Drac understood their approaches and accepting them before calmly lectured them.

~~~~~~~~~~

Remind him why he thought leaving the supervising roles to two responsible but reckless and chaotic Pokemons was a good idea.

“I said, we join the Pokemon League! We show those twerps how Mom is the strongest caretaker! Those losers never know what hit them!”

“Can we just, not? Just because Rotom said something about the unbeatable Champion Leon and the new season is coming up next two weeks, doesn’t mean we have to join.”

If it were anything other than other Pokemons joining sides, he would just use Water Pledge on them to silence their verbal fight. Unfortunately, they even involve Mom into this, signing aggressively as to prove and overcome each opposite points. 

He reluctantly sighed before sitting down with the eldest sister of this comically dysfunctional family on his lap. The Eldegoss just swaying around comfortably as she allows the Inteleon to play with her little pink flowers among her signature dandelions.

“When will they ever stop their argument?” Poseidon complained with a hint of stress. Persephone stopped her swaying, looking up to meet his eyes before she resumed back, giggled at the scene in front of them that looks like they are having a trial like that famous lawyer TV series.

“Oh, Posey. I’m sure whatever they argue about, they will always listen to Mommy. After all, her reasoning on choices makes us feel like we are included in the decision-making.”

“I know, Perse. It just that I’m tired of their attitude. The reason why I let them took charge today is because I want to let them learn responsibility.”

“Well, it works half way before Lily decided that it was the right moment to announce the League news. You know how eager she is, watching Pokemon League on live is basically in her wish list.”

“Maybe if she just hold her chatty mouth back, we could probably discuss this before letting the young ones to decide.”

“She’s not like her fellow Rotoms buddies.”

“I wish she is, Perse. Emphasis the word ‘wish’.”

The trial seems to come to the end, seeing that Bachinki actually won his side of their verbal fight amused Poseidon a lot. Those two fought a lot verbally but it was always the Rabbit Pokemon that won the argument. 

The same Raboot was found sulking in his Poke Ball later at dinner time.

[milkie-yoongi]

GET TO KNOW ME

rules: bold everything that applies to you then tag 10 people you’d like to get to know better

thanks for the tag @koyabebe this thing looks super fun!

—-

Appearance:

I’m over 5’5”(im short and I like it) // I wear glasses or contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing(it’s nice to feel like you’re not choking 24/7) // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes(my eyes like the muddd :)) // I have dyed or highlighted my hair(uh does a couple strands count??) // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily(alright I always took pride in saying that I didn’t burn but yesterday I went to the beach for less than 3 hours and got a pretty bad burn on my face, it doesn’t hurt though. But I guess this told me that yeah I do burn easily. Wear sunscreen kids cuz I didn’t) // I have freckles(just a tiny bit on my nose/cheek area cuz the sun reigns pretty much everyday here) // I typically wear makeup(light makeup since it makes me feel more awake after I put it on) // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look(we all should be thankful for the features we were born with!:) // I prefer Nike to Adidas(AIRMAX yes)// I wear baseball hats backward

—-

Hobbies and Talents:

I play a sport (nah I’m not athletic like I used to be big cry) // I can play an instrument(my youtube channel is here for proof—> https://m.youtube.com/channel/UC8rHB6-DB-xcG5ABak1G2YA) // I am artistic(does drawing weird and making weird memes on photoshop count?) // I know more than one language (a few words phrases of another,this didn’t say fluent, so haha) // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition (my piano teacher had the best glass trophies with our names on them and she’d give them to everyone who participated in performances. yoongi would be so jealous) // I can cook or bake without a recipe(trial and error yk who has time to read directions?) // I know how to swim (I don’t swim I drown) // I enjoy writing(i like writing down my thoughts, potential song lyrics from my life events, and letters to ppl I love😊) // I can do origami // I prefer movies to TV shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing(songs have so much power but my voice is not the best for singing imo. it just makes me feel better if I’m home alone or need encouragement)// I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year(I don’t read ffff) // I enjoy spending time with my friends(I go out too much cuz I can’t say no and I have FOMO here’s why I’m broke:/)// I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

—-

Relationships:

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year(cuz no one is worthy. Every dude around me is so arrogant and superficial, it’s just the culture here sighhh. thanks yoongi for making me have high standards I’m proud of that) // I have a crush(nah I’m super picky man)// I have a best friend I have known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends(I’m the counselor friend and I love it) // I have made an online friend(you know who you are and if you’re reading this I LOVE YOU)// I met up with someone I have met online(I’d be too scared unless I REALLY trusted you)

—-

Aesthetic:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell(or maybe the shell was mad??) // I have seen the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days(I LOVE the sound of rain and the overcast skies it makes everything calmer and cozier...too bad it doesn’t rain often here) // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // The sound of chirping calms me(birds are better than people) // I enjoy the smell of the ocean // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep(I can’t cuz I’ll start analyzing the beat and stuff or humming to it) // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching(I like staring off into space and not thinking in general) // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colours// I find mystery in the ocean(what kind of phrase lol the ocean is scaryyy because it’s a mystery) // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favourite season

—-

Misc:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle(only if I’m super tired but I love moving vehicles they make me feel better)// I am the mom friend(I guess? You tell me) // I live by a certain quote(s) (too many to count) // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities(still doing piano lessons and stuffs count?) // I enjoy Mexican food(only churros but depends on the place other than that it’s ehhhh sorry) // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep(I daydream a lot cuz reality sucks ha) // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a game(oh ya cuz if you mess up you can restart and you can die multiple times instead of just once! Also games are cooler than reality) // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial(it’s hard at times but I wouldn’t want it any other way!) // I am a redhead // I own at least three dogs(I have no pets but I want a baby kitten so bad! And a cute little bird!)

I tag @yosunyoongi @yoongisugameow @jincendio @cubbienamu @ididitforbtsman @teacupswithteapots @daughterofthemoon92 @inkofyoongi @wittleyoon @bts-lune @specrownedmyg @sleepyseoulhours @kpoplittleheadcannon @r3d-lov1ng-4ng3l @littleyoonie @soft-baby-yoongi @yoonjincafe @babyboy-bts and anyone else who wants to do this!

[takingcourage]

A Sixth Sense

Pairing: Liam x MC

Word Count: 2,650 

Summary: In spite of the title, there’s nothing menacing about this tale. Just a bit of fluff for my favorite royal family to help atone for what I put them through in Five O’Clock Shadow.

Author Note: I’m ashamed to say that this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts since October. Thanks for all of your patience, Liam stans. 

This story follows Three Questions, 4:00 AM, and Five O’Clock Shadow. All stories can be accessed via my masterlist. 

Eliza wrung her hair, watching as the excess water streamed beneath her before swirling its way down the drain. The bathroom was full of steam -- mirrors clouded beneath the vapours that her long shower had produced. Fastening a towel around her chest, she wondered how it was possible that a simple thing like a shower was all it took to make her feel human again.

Liam had insisted that she needed the time to herself, especially since he’d be resuming his regular work schedule later that day. She’d known that the rhythm they’d adopted in the past few weeks couldn’t last, but that didn’t mean that adjusting out of it would be an easy task. Life with a newborn had been stressful, even with Liam there for much of the day. There were always people she could pass the baby off to, of course, but she knew that other engagements would force her away from her son enough. She couldn’t bear the thought of choosing to leave him.

Still, she predicted that this transition would be harder on Liam than it would on her. Aside from attending a handful of meetings, she was released from royal duties until after the christening -- still several weeks away. Liam was not so fortunate. 

He’d been given a great deal of flexibility in his schedule recently, especially in light of the unusual circumstances surrounding the prince’s birth. His assistant had managed to relax his list of obligations, making sure that, if duties called him away, it was for only a portion of the day. Their friends had helped to carry the slack as well: Olivia stepping in to complete a round of negotiations, Drake and Hana filling in for many of his weekly meetings, and Maxwell attending the opening of the tourism center in his stead. They had managed capably, but they couldn’t take his place indefinitely. The time had come.

Eliza opened the door to the bedroom, releasing the pent-up heat and moisture as she finished toweling off. Once dry, she examined the horizontal scar on her abdomen, wondering how long it would take for the redness to fade away. Her breath caught in her teeth as she massaged a layer of arnica along the incision line. Even in the residual heat of the shower, the coolness of the gel provoked a rash of goose pimples.

The scar was the most tangible reminder of just how much the birth had overthrown her expectations. Compared to the hopes she’d had for an easy delivery and recovery, she felt like the accident and resulting surgery had forced her to step into motherhood very much on the back foot. She’d spent the better part of their first week at home just reconciling herself to what had happened and trying not to let every tiny failure disappoint her. Motherhood was hard. Recovering from major surgery had only made it harder.

But it was worth it. So worth it.

Eliza knew postpartum hormones bore their fair share of the blame, but for every disappointment she’d experienced, there had been a dozen moments that she’d been overcome by happy tears, unable to keep her eyes from misting over at the thought of how fortunate she was.

Gregory was a happy, healthy baby and Liam was every bit as wonderful with him as she’d imagined. He was precisely the kind of father Eliza had dreamed of having as she tried to fill the void left behind from her own father’s death. No matter how much time Liam spent with his son, it was never enough. On a handful of occasions, she’d found him sitting in the darkened nursery, composing emails as the baby napped peacefully by his side. 

With a reflective smile, she tugged on a pair of thick leggings and a nursing tunic. A quick glance toward the clock told her that Liam was running out of time before he was expected for a conference call scheduled later that morning. Knowing exactly where to find her boys, she gathered her wet hair into a haphazard bun and ventured toward the nursery.

The lilt of Liam's voice rounded the bend before her feet had carried her past the corner, and she shook her head as she grew closer, trying to discern the tale of the day. He was always telling stories. 

“And so, Queen Kenna and her allies traveled to the land of the Technocrats, where they encountered various trials which required both skill and courage…”

Liam continued speaking after Eliza had appeared in the nursery doorway, but she lost track of his words in her desire to drink in the sight before her. Her husband was seated in the nursing chair, their month-old son nestled into the crook of his arm as he read from the book on his lap. From Eliza’s perspective, the baby didn’t seem to be gleaning much from the tale, but she had to appreciate her husband’s efforts. She leaned against the doorjamb, heart thrumming with the deepest love that she had ever known.  

This was one of those memories -- the ones she would cherish until the end of her days. They had made so many of them over the past four years, but somehow these last few weeks had produced the sweetest ones of all.

As unsettling as the birth had been, waking to find her husband beside her in the hospital room, resting skin-to-skin with their son had been enough to remove any frustration she had at being poked and prodded from sleep for the routine check of her vital signs. Under his watchful gaze, she’d hardly been aware of the nurses or the plastic monitor clipped to her finger. His presence assured her that all would be well.

She had once foolishly believed that her love for this man would reach a cap -- that it couldn’t expand forever -- but seeing him take on the role of father so naturally gave rise to an intensity of emotion she would have thought impossible.

“I think that’s where we’ll end Kenna’s story for today.”

The dull thump of the volume closing pulled Eliza out of her memories and back to the present.

“Have you been spying on us, my queen?” His voice changed from serious to teasing as he set the book back on its shelf beside the chair.

A sly smile crossed her lips and she met his sparkling eyes. She loved his banter -- especially when he used that enticing tone that she’d never been able to resist. Tempted as she was to offer a coy response, she knew that such pursuits would only end in frustration -- at least for the next two weeks. After that, she’d be free to tease him back with everything she had.

Eliza forced her wayward mind back to the present, striding purposefully into the room. “I’d prefer to think of it as admiring.”

Her son’s head turned in search of her voice, and she couldn’t stop her grin at the inquisitive face that peered out from Liam’s arms. She held out her hands to take the child, and Liam passed him to her gently.  “How long before he knows more Cordonian history than I do?”

“Perhaps I’ve been a little over-eager,” Liam admitted, standing to join his wife and child. “But it’s a rich history. I want him to take pride in what our people have done.”

Eliza settled into a sway as she rocked Gregory in her arms. “I’m sure he’ll take your lessons to heart in time, even if he sleeps through most of them now.”

As if on cue, the baby’s face contorted into a yawn. This growth spurt had been taking it out of him -- but to her great relief, he was steadily surpassing his birth weight. His checkup the day before had confirmed what she already suspected -- the prince was perfectly healthy.

“Is that a sleepy yawn or just a yawn?” she questioned, a smile in her voice as she searched her child’s expressive face. She ran a finger along his cheek, satisfied by the predictable rooting that her touch produced. The perfect bow of his mouth contracted as he pursed his lips. “It looks like this one is a hungry yawn.” She sat in the rocking chair and pulled aside the excess layer of her shirt. The child latched on eagerly.

Noting Liam’s silence, she tore her attention away from the baby. Her husband had taken her place by the door, but his eyes were trained on her. At the pensive expression on his face, Eliza was grateful that she’d resisted the urge to tease him for copying her. 

“I’m going to miss all of these quiet moments,” he divulged quietly. “I’ve not left the house for more than a few hours at a time over the past month, and I’m ashamed how easy it’s been to just forget the outside world.” He ran one hand along his jaw, stopping to rub one particularly rough spot at the edge.

“We’ve gotten pretty spoiled, haven’t we? I’ve hardly thought about Cordonia at all.” She mulled over the situation, mouth quirking at her son’s increasingly sleepy gaze. “Part of me wishes we could stay like this forever.”

“Part of me does too. Most of me, actually.”

“We'll find a new normal soon.”

“I just don't want to miss anything.” Liam crossed the room, stretching out a hand to caress the crown of Gregory's head.

Eliza pursed her lips sympathetically. “You won't. We'll come to your office for lots of visits, and we'll be here waiting for you every night." Still, she knew it wouldn't be quite the same.

“We’ll make this work, Eliza.”

“We are making this work.”

He smiled his assent, dipping his head to meet her lips in a kiss. “I love you. I have a meeting with Douglas over lunch, but I’ll be back this evening.”

“We’ll be here. I love you.” Her heart clenched again as she watched him disappear through the open doorway. For his sake, evening couldn't come soon enough.  

Shortly after midnight, Eliza woke to silence. Even though she was a deep sleeper, it wasn’t unusual for her to wake in anticipation of her son’s cries. She supposed it was a sort of intuition unique to parents. Pulling her feet to the edge of the bed, she started at the realization that the mattress was empty beside her.

When Liam returned that night, she hadn't realized just how worn he looked until she saw how he revived the moment Gregory woke from his nap. In spite of the paperwork he had to finish up, the two of them had been practically inseparable until the child went to bed. It came as little surprise to her that Liam would seek more time with him now. There had been a handful of nights in the past weeks that she would wake to feed Gregory, only to find him already drowsing in Liam’s arms, bottle empty. She suspected that might be the case tonight as well.

When she entered the nursery, however, the two of them were nowhere to be found.

She conducted a quick search of their quarters, accidentally rousing Henry in his kennel as she wandered into the kitchen. The dog whimpered quietly, but settled back onto his side when he realized she was only passing through and not beginning her morning routine. “Good boy, Henry,” she affirmed, flicking off the lights with a slender finger.

Finding their home empty, she ventured back to the bedroom for her slippers and her long black robe. As close as they were to the beginning of spring, the palace outside of their apartment was still quite drafty. And, unlikely as it was that she would encounter any palace staff at this time in the morning, she much preferred for them to see her in something more than just her thin pajamas.

Eliza slipped through their front door with ease, compelled by curiosity rather than fear. Almost of their own volition, her feet travelled the lengths of hallway, leading her to the grand ballroom. Moonlight streamed through the stately windows, its gleams bouncing off the ornate golden handles of the doors. Intuition told her that this was where Liam had taken their son, but to what purpose? 

Reaching out for a handle, she paused for the briefest of moments. Her mind filtered through a catalogue of memories in that place -- some joyous, but so many full of pain. Tightening her grip on the metal, she entered determined, but wary.

Eliza made out Liam’s form in the dim light of the sconces on the walls. She liked the room far better like this, calm and without the oppressive brightness bearing down from the chandeliers. Hearing her enter, her husband traveled the length of the room, chattering quietly to the good-natured, very alert infant in his arms.

“We decided to go for a stroll,” he offered by way of explanation, coming to meet her in the middle of the dance floor.  In spite of her concerns, it was clear from her husband’s demeanor that all was well.

“So I see. Telling him stories again?” 

His smile provided the answer to her question. “I was telling him about the Masquerade Ball. I’d just gotten to the part where I was relieved and overjoyed to see you in Cordonia.”

“I’m sure he’s very impressed,” she teased, inclining her face to kiss her husband’s cheek.  

“He will be one day. By the time he’s able to talk, he’ll probably be sick of hearing our story -- I intend to tell it many times.”

“And someday I’ll tell him the story of how I found the two of you in here, talking up a storm when you ought to be in bed,” she ribbed, pressing her cheek into the taut muscles of his shoulder. She gave her son an exaggerated smile and he grinned in return -- mere reflex, probably, but it warmed her all the same.

“We’ll make it back eventually.”

“I’m surprised he’s still awake. Usually a bottle is all it takes for him to be out like a light.”

Liam’s lips tugged sheepishly. “He wasn’t crying for a bottle, actually. I woke up and couldn’t help going in to check on him. When I got there, he was wide awake. I thought a walk would do us both good.”

“So you brought him to the ballroom?” 

He chuckled softly, but then grew quiet at her question. Eliza was on the verge of speaking further when Liam broke the silence. 

“I missed him today. Very much. And I spent a lot of time thinking about the kinds of things I wish my father had told me when I was a child -- not that Gregory’s going to remember this conversation--” he mused. “But I don’t want the palace to always feel like something that’s filled with pageantry to the point of being unreal. And sooner or later, he’s going to hear the stories of all of the bad that’s happened in this place. I don’t want him to grow up thinking it’s impossible for good things to happen too.”

Pesky tears clouded Eliza’s visions as she read the sincerity in her husband’s face. “With you around, there’s no danger of him thinking that.”

“Eliza...”

“I’m serious, Liam. I know I don’t have much to compare it to, but you’re doing a pretty amazing job of fatherhood so far. Somehow, I have a hard time imagining many of your ancestors sneaking away with their children at midnight to tell them stories.”

“You give me entirely too much credit.” His protest fell on deaf ears. “And I won’t sneak away with him every night -- only sometimes.”

She hid her smile against his clothed shoulder, slipping her hand under his elbow as they walked back home together. 

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

The One That Got Away

Stiles and Derek were childhood friends, but everything changed the night they shared a drunken kiss. After that, they grew apart. Until years later, when they are reunited at a parent-teacher conference. Commission for the lovely anon on ko-fi who requested mutual pining. This got a little out of hand, sorry. But I hope you like it!

Stiles doesn’t know what it was that made him think back to high school, but lately his memories had been drawn back to the nigh of Lydia’s party, when someone had spied the punch and he had ended up in the shadows behind the house, kissing Derek Hale.

The memory was still so vivid even after all these years. He could still remember the chatter from the party and the sweet smell of petrichor that filled the air that night. He could still remember how soft Derek’s lips were, how eager the kiss was. He could still remember the taste of punch of Derek’s lips and the warmth of his hands as the slid under the hem of Stiles’ shirt. And he remembers the sickening feeling of shame as Derek pulled away from him, saying it could never happen again before disappearing into the party. He could still remember the tears and the heartbreak, how it felt to lose his childhood friend.

In the weeks that followed, Derek drew more distant. Stiles came out as bisexual and Derek started dating Paige—insisting he’s straight. For weeks, Derek wouldn’t even look him in the eye. And it went on like that until the Hale house fire, after which, Peter took his nephew and nieces to New York and Stiles didn’t hear from Derek again.

Time passed, but Stiles never forgot about Derek, or that drunken kiss.

As the years dragged on, Stiles followed in his father’s footsteps and became a deputy in the Beacon Hills police. That’s how he met Boyd.

Boyd was three years old when he witnessed his parent’s murder. It was a robbery gone wrong. When Stiles and the other deputies arrived on scene, they found the family’s bodies strewn across the living room, blood splattered everywhere. Stiles found a broken family photo and realised that one of the kids was missing. He started to search the house, only to find the toddler hiding in one of the kitchen cabinets, his face streaked with tears.

Boyd had no other relatives, so he was put in police protective custody until the case was solved, and after that Stiles fostered him. A year later, Stiles adopted him.

He grew up shy and reserved, at least until the day Stiles picked him up from school and he couldn’t stop talking about his new friends: Isaac and Erica. Boyd went on and on about how pretty Erica was and how friendly Isaac was.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile at how happy Boyd was, and he didn’t have the heart to say no when the boy begged him to meet Isaac and Erica’s dad to set up a play date.

That’s how he ended up at the parent-teacher conference. Boy let go of his hand and ran over to Erica and Isaac the second he saw them.

Stiles smiled as he watched his son hug the twins. But his joy was short-lived as their father stepped around the corner of the hallway.

It was as if he was seeing a ghost.

He was smiling at the kids who stood at his feet, his son still holding onto his hand as Isaac talked to Boyd. The man’s beige skin was as perfect as ever and he had grown into his stern features; his square jaw and high cheekbones. His hair was dark and thick, tousled by the wind. His jaw was covered in a short beard and his wide-set eyes were pale beneath his dark brows, the aventurine irises catching the light and shifting from hazel to green, to a shade of light blue – clear, bright and focused.

He wore the same old black leather jacket he had years ago, a pair of slim black jeans, and a forest green Henley that was fitted over his body, the buttons opened to reveal a glimpse of dark chest hair.

Derek.

“No freaking way,” Stiles muttered to himself as he dug his hands into the pockets of his BHPD windbreaker and made his way down the hallway.

“Dad!” Boyd called, rushing back over to hug Stiles.

Stiles braced himself as Boyd wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging his son back. Boyd grabbed his hand, dragging him over to meet Isaac and Erica. Stiles crouched before the twins, smiling sweetly as he said hello to them.

Erica held her hand out and introduced herself, but Isaac lingered by Derek’s calf, holding onto the hem of his dad’s leather jacket.

Stiles rose to his feet, smiling as he met Derek’s gaze.

Derek was staring back at him with eyes wide in shock. His jaw hung open as he stared at the young man.

“Stiles?” he gasped.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles greeted, offering the man a kind smile. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Derek replied. He dropped his gaze, hiding the pain that darkened his eyes. He looked down at Isaac, gently patting back the boy’s sandy-blonde curls. He looked back at Stiles. “How about you?”

“Yeah,” Stiles muttered, feeling the ache in his chest, the same one he had felt that night when Derek had walked away from him and left him in the shadows of the house. “Good.”

Derek’s eyes wandered over Stiles’ body, drinking in the sight of his broad shoulders, the way he had grown into his slim limbs. The standard-issue khaki shirt was stretched across Stiles’ broad chest, the fabric tucked into the waistband of his pants which sat low on his slender hips.

“You look great,” Derek said, struggling to regain his composure.

“So do you,” Stiles replied, smiling as he cocked an eyebrow. “New York did you good.”

Derek’s face fell. He glanced down at Isaac, gently running his fingers through the boy’s hair.

Stiles’ brow furrowed as he studied Derek’s face. For years, he was the only person who could read Derek’s reserved emotions; he always knew what Derek was thinking, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“What’s going on, Der?” Stiles asked.

Derek let out a soft laugh. “It’s been a while since I’ve been called that,” Derek admitted, avoiding the topic. He looked up at Stiles, a smile quirking the corner of his lips. “It’s good to hear it again.”

Stiles let out a heavy sigh. He looked down at the kids that hovered around their legs, smiling as he asked, “Do you guys want to go out onto the playground?”

Boyd and Erica nodded excitedly. Erica reached out for her twin’s hand, gently prying her brother away from their dad as the three of them went running down the hall and out into the evening light.

Stiles and Derek followed after them, sitting down on one of the benches beside the brightly coloured playground.

A moment of quiet settled between them as they watched the kids play. “What’s going on, Derek?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you come back?” Stiles asked. “You had a life in New York, so why did you come back?”

“For them,” he nodded towards his kids. He let out a heavy sigh, bracing his elbows against his knees. “I guess I should explain from the start. When I moved to New York, I married Kate.”

“Kate Argent?” Stiles asked, his stomach twisting.

“I was stupid and naïve,” Derek said through gritted teeth, pain darkening as he scolded himself. “One thing led to another and she fell pregnant with the twins. When they were born, her whole attitude changed, for the worse. She would get angry at the smallest things. I tried to step in where I could, but she’d take it out on them when I wasn’t there.”

He paused for a moment, watching as his kids ran about the playground, climbing up the ladders and sliding down the bright blue plastic slide.

“Isaac took the brunt of it,” Derek explained. “He did everything he could to protect Erica, but it took its toll. I called the cops on Kate and she’s on trial for neglect and abuse, but she’s been threatening to kill them. I had to get them away from her; I had to keep them safe.”

He dragged his hands down his face, and Stiles noticed the dark, sleepless bags under his eyes.

“I didn’t know where to go,” Derek admitted. “I’d go to the ends of the earth if it meant I could keep them safe.”

“Do you still have my phone number?” Stiles asked.

Derek looked at him, frowning at the question. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

“I still have the same number,” Stiles explained. “If she shows up, call me directly. I’ll be there in minutes.”

A soft smile lifted Derek’s lips, a sense of relief washing over him. “Thank you.”

Stiles nodded. He watched as Boyd covered his eyes and slowly counted to ten while Erica and Isaac spit to hide.

Isaac ran over to them, crouching behind the bench they sat on, giggling to himself.

It was the sweetest sound.

Derek’s expression brightened, his heart aching as he listened to his son’s laughter.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Boyd shouted as he started looking around the playground for his friends.

“You know, I never forgot,” Derek said quietly.

“Forgot what?”

“Lydia’s party,” Derek said. “Our kiss.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, feeling nausea twist his stomach. “That.”

“I don’t regret it,” Derek said. “But I do regret walking away. I regret pretending like it didn’t happen.” He turned to look at Stiles. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I walked away.”

Stiles let out a heavy sigh. “Derek-” he started.

“I’m sorry,” the man said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bring up the past. You’ve probably moved on; got someone else in your life.”

“I don’t,” Stiles admitted.

Derek turned to look at him, shocked by this revelation. “Really?”

“I never really moved on from you,” Stiles admitted. “I adopted Boyd after he was orphaned, and he’s been my whole world ever since. I did try dating, but they never understood that Boyd was and always will be my first priority.”

Derek let out a breathless chuckle. “The struggles of being a single dad.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Stiles admitted, smiling as he watched Boyd walk in circles, his face creased in confusion as he tried to find his friends.

Isaac peeked around the corner of the bench. His face was twisted in pity as he stood up from his hiding spot and ran over to Boyd.

“You’re meant to stay hidden,” Boyd told him, his voice gentle.

Isaac didn’t care; he ran over to his friend and threw his arms around Boyd’s shoulders.

Moments later, Erica emerged from behind a tree a few meters away, scolding her brother before coming over to join them.

Both Stiles and Derek burst into laughter.

“You’re right,” Derek said after a moment. “Despite everything, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The kids came running over to their side. Isaac clambered up onto his dad’s lap, curling up in Derek’s arms as Erica stood beside Boyd, looking up at Derek with puppy eyes. “Daddy, can Boyd please come over to pay tomorrow? Please?”

Derek couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t know,” he teased, turning to look at Stiles. “What do you say?”

Stiles pretended to think about it before yielding. “Alright.”

Erica looked back at her dad, her face lit with excitement. She let out a squeal of excitement when Derek nodded in agreement.

Derek fought to smother his laughter. He gave Stiles his new address and wrapped his arms around Isaac, holding the boy close to his chest as he rose to his feet. He offered his other hand to Erica and told the twins to say goodbye.

Isaac mumbled goodbye, his face buried in Derek’s shirt as he waved to Boyd.

Erica rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to Boyd’s cheek, whispering goodbye before taking her dad’s hand and heading to the car park.

Boyd called after them, waving goodbye as they left. When they were gone, he turned to look at Stiles. “Do you like Erica and Isaac’s dad?”

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles said.

“Do you like like him?” Boyd asked, smiling at his dad.

“Yeah,” Stiles admitted before he could think better of himself. “I still do.”

[AO3]

[dramaworlduk]

  Drama recommendations!

Part 2!!

<-Part 1

11. The Legend Of The Blue Sea

There’s history, mythology, mystery, romance, and comedy- what more could you want?! Heo Joon-jae (Lee Min-ho) is the son of a rich businessman who becomes a handsome and clever con-man after his parents' divorce. Shim Cheong (Jun Ji-hyun) is a mermaid who becomes lost and runs into him. First only sticking by her for material gain, Joon-Jae slowly realises his feelings are a little stronger than that. Their tale is juxtaposed with the parallel story of their Joseon era incarnations, town head Kim Dam-ryeong and the mermaid Se-hwa. Cheong is absolutely adorable as she learns to adapt to human life, and strikes up friendships with some of the strangest people. Joon-Jae is a scumbag with a heart and a tragic past and it is very difficult not to love them both. The added element of mystery with a murderer on the loose and Cheong’s attempt to hide her identity make for a full and intriguing story that you won’t want to take your eyes off of.

Year: 2016

Where Can I Watch?: KissAsian

Episodes: 20, 1hr length

12. Pinocchio

Choi In-Ha (Park Shin-Hye) hiccups every time she lies. Choi Dal-Po’s (Lee Jong-Suk) life was ruined by the lies the media spread about his family. He is adopted by In-Ha’s family and they grow up together, battling back their feelings for each other and the cutthroat business of reporting which they’ve both found themselves pursuing. It explores the value and falldowns of honesty and how the media can be manipulated and faked. Friends->lovers plus lovely family bonds and the importance of empathy. Very good drama, emotive and charming, 100% recommend.

Year: 2014

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 20, 1hr length

13. The Heirs

This ones a really good one if you’re starting off, as it’s not too heavy or complicated. Kim Tan (Lee Min-Ho),  a wealthy heir to a large Korean conglomerate, and Cha Eun-Sang (Park Shin-Hye) meet in America when Eun-Sang goes to visit her sister. After a failed encounter, Kim Tan offers to let Eun-Sang stay with him before she goes back to Korea. Despite being engaged to Yoo Rachel (Kim Ji-won), a fellow heiress, Kim Tan soon falls in love with Eun-sang. When Eun-Sang returns to Korea, Kim Tan also returns.  Tan’s ex best friend Choi Young-Do (Kim Woo-Bin) notices Tan’s softspot for the new girl and begins to pursue her too. It explores teenage trials and tribulations in the lives of the rich and the poor, as well as pressures from the adult world. 

Year: 2013

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 20, 1hr length

14. Hymn Of Death

This three-parter channels Titanic with its tragic love story and historical setting. You go into this knowing there will be heartbreak, but it still hurts so much!!  It is based on the true story of the tragic romance between Joseon's first soprano Yun Sim-deok (Shin Hye-Sun) and a genius playwright Kim Woo-jin (Lee Jong-Suk). It is heartbreaking to see the two fall for eachother knowing they cannot be together for far too many reasons. It spans a number of years and their love remains strong throughout. The quotes in this from Woo-jin’s real journals are beautiful too and add to the real life story. A must watch, if not for the story, then for Shin Hye-Sun and Lee Jong-Suk’s acting which is fantastic throughout.

Year: 2018

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 3, 1hr length

15. My Love From Another Star

Alien Do Min-Jun (Kim Soo-Hyun) whose time on earth is nearly up meets Famous actress Cheong Song-Yi (Jun Ji Hyun) as she moves in next-door to him. He finds himself entangled in Song-yi's crazy and unpredictable situations, and finds out that she looks like a young girl he fell in love with in the Joseon era. Song-Yi’s best friend Lee Hee-kyung (Park Hae-jin), is in love with her, but his older brother Lee Jae-kyung (Shin Sung-rok) has a dark secret and will get rid of anyone who finds out about it or gets in his way. This drama can be very intense at times wih the threat of Jae-kyung, but Song-Yi’s sweet, comedic personality serves for some very humourous moments too.

Year: 2014

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 21, 1hr length

16. W: Two Worlds

Bad boy with a heart of gold?? Comic book world??? Violence and mystery?? Adorable, loyal sidekick?? Badass doctor who can travel between worlds?? LEE JONG SUK LOOKING HOT WITH A GUN?? W has it all. The premise is new and exciting, making for unpredictable plot twists and constant need for questions to be answered. W is a fictional bestselling webtoon in South Korea centering around the dramatic life of Kang Chul (Lee Jong-suk). Authored by Oh Seong-moo (Kim Eui-sung), somewhere along the line W became a living universe. The gap between the two worlds is crossed as Seong-moo's daughter, resident cardiothoracic surgeon Oh Yeon-joo (Han Hyo-joo) gets dragged into the webtoon world and is immediatel faced with saving Kang Chul’s life. Only, Kang Chul wasn’t meant to live. If you do one thing this year it should be to WATCH W. It’ll do you good, I promise.

Year: 2016

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 16, 1hr length

17. While You Were Sleeping

A girl who sees the future in her dreams, and a seemingly unconnected new neighbour are brought together through a series of events. It is legal drama crossed with fantasy as Jung Jae-Chan (Lee Jong-suk) starts a new job at the prosecutor’s office despite his clumsy, goofy personality. Jae-Chan dreams about an accident which causes much grief and loss, and decides he must try to stop it, and in doing-so his connection with Nam Hong-Joo (Bae Suzy) is strengthened and their relationship blossoms. There are some great dynamics here, not only between Jae-Chan and Hong-Joo, but also with their friend Han Woo-Tak (Jung Hae-in), who begins to dream of the future too after his life is saved, and Choi Dam-Dong (Kim Won-hae) who is a funny but sweet father figure to Jae-Chan as he teaches him the ways of life as a prosecutor. Ruthless lawyer Lee Yu-Beom (Lee Sang-yeob)’s portayal is magnetic and captivating.

Year: 2017

Where Can I Watch?: KissAsian

Episodes: 32, 30min length

18. My ID Is Gangnam Beauty

Afraid of how her peers perceive her, Kang Mi-Rae (Im Soo-hyang) undergoes plastic surgery to stop worrying about her looks before she starts university. However, after a while at university people begin to label her as a ‘Gangnam plastic surgery monster’ as her appearance is a bit too obviously altered. Mi-rae struggles with her concerns of what people think about her, which has followed her around her whole life, in a stark contrast to Do Kyung-seok (Cha Eun-Woo), who does not care what others think. The general message of body positivity isn’t without its flaws, but it brings discussions of insecurity and societal standards to the forefront. The good messaging outweighs the flaws by far and there is also a fair bit of feminism going on, just keep track of Mi-rae’s T-shirt slogans! The relationship between Kyung-seok and Mi-rae is very sweet and shy, and Kyung-seok likes her regardless of what others think. Lighthearted but with an important message.

Year: 2018

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 16, 1hr length

19. She Was Pretty

Kim Hye-Jin’s (Hwang Jung-eum) childhood friend contacts her years later wishing to reconnect. However, upon meeting Ji Sung-joon (Park Seo-joon) does not recognise her, expecting her to appear like her younger self. Kim Hye-jin was a beautiful girl from a rich family, but after her family's publishing company went bankrupt, she experienced hardships then lost her beauty too. Ji Sung-joon was a shy, unattractive boy, but grows up as a handsome and successful editor. Ashamed to meet her first love and ruin his perception of her, Hye-jin asks her attractive best friend, Min Ha-ri (Go Joon-hee), to act as her once, then make up an excuse to never see Sung-joon again. Things get complicated when Hye-jin is assigned to work at The Most magazine publishing office where Sung-joon is the deputy chief editor. He openly mistreats and belittles her for her clumsy nature, not knowing that she was his real childhood friend. Kim Shin-Hyuk () is the second lead in this and his performace is fantastic. The growth between Sung-joon and Hye-jin is definitely worth watching and messages about beauty resonate well.

Year: 2015

Where Can I Watch?: Netflix

Episodes: 16, 1hr length

20. Thirty But Seventeen

Although there are a fair few emotional moments, this show is still for the most part a light, heartwarming drama with little angst and struggle. Also, there are not really ny plausible second leads to confuse the romance storyline as Yoo Chan (Ahn Hyo-Seop) is Gong Woo-Jin’s (Yang Se-Jong) 19 year old nephew, and Kim Tae-Hyun has very little screen time. I feel this makes it a lot easier to connect to the main couple, who are ADORABLE. They are both still mentally 17, after Woo Seo-Ri (Shin Hye-Sun) was in a coma for 13 years, and Woo-Jin’s PTSD from the accident keeps him stuck on repeat. After waking from her coma, Seo-Ri returns to her old house, unaware that it is now under new ownership in the form of Woo-Jin’s family. There is still a lot of tropey goodness (living together!!), but the story and interactions feel fresh and unique, and the dynamic between Seo-Ri, Woo-Jin, Yoo Chan, and Jennifer (Ye Ji-Won) is enough to keep you watching as it’s so warm and pure. Not to mention the dog Paeng/Deok Gu!! I love them all so much and it’s just the sweetest!

Year: 2018

Where Can I Watch?: KissAsian

Episodes: 32, 30min length

[vixxscifiwritings]

the sound of waves on the shore

Summary - Eunho closes his eyes and dreams of standing at the lighthouse again, watching the water crash against the rocks and letting the mind numbing sound swallow his thoughts whole.

Genre - Angst

Length - 2000+ words

Drama - Red Moon Blue Sun | Children of Nobody

A/N - Contains spoilers for Episode 26 and onwards.

Series

-

“Are you here to arrest me?” Eunho asks warily when Jiheon sits down next to the hospital bed.

The immediate spike in his heartbeat is picked up by the heart rate monitor. His heartbeat remains high and blood pressure rises to match it, causing the monitoring nurse to tense up and consider asking Jiheon to leave in order to maintain a stress free environment for the patient.

“No” Jiheon says, pulling his jacket closer and leaning forward. “Not yet anyways.”

Eunho is in too much physical pain to nod. He hums an affirmative and his tension gives way to a normal heartbeat.

“If you feel any pain or need assistance, you can press the emergency button on the side of the bed” the nurse informs him. “Can you reach it?”

Eunho finds the button easily, pressing the button once to check if it is working. The nurse nods and presses another button and the response light resets.

“Please do not stress the patient as he is still recovering from his injuries” the nurse warns Jiheon. He gets the impression that she doesn’t like him very much and he thinks the assumption is very accurate when she glares in a warning before leaving.

“Why are you here Detective Kang?” Eunho asks, when they are alone.

“I heard you had woken up. How are your injuries?” Jiheon replies.

Eunho shrugs but regrets it when his shoulder shoots up in pain. He shifts around, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in so that the pain eases.

“What did the doctor say?” Jiheon asks, standing up to help Eunho. He elevates the back of the hospital bed so that Eunho can sit while resting his back as well and rearranges the pillows till he is comfortable.

“They told me they removed the bullet but the wound was very deep and needed stitches” Eunho tells him.

Jiheon sighs in understanding. Stitches always leave muscles sore and restrict movement. Eunho took a gunshot to his chest, very narrowly missing his heart but still affecting a major blood vessel. It will take weeks of physiotherapy to recover fully.

“If you’re not going to arrest me now, will you arrest me when I am discharged?” Eunho asks when the moment of silence lapses into awkwardness.

“Yes.”

Jiheon doesn’t mince his words. Eunho finds it bittersweet. The stab of jealousy and envy returns. Jiheon is a righteous man who has the luxury to be honest.

That’s supposed to be good, his mind reminds him. One lesser person who has suffered in the world. He doesn’t want Jiheon to be intimately acquainted with the darkness the world seems to offer in abundance. But he wonders if Jiheon could ever possibly understand what it feels like to build a facade of lies and hide behind them like he has lived. To live with the assurance that wrong words will cause you more pain instead of the assurance that truth will always prevail.

“I bought you some seaweed soup” Jiheon says, changing the topic. He holds up plastic bags with containers that he has been holding since he came in. “Will be good for you.”

“Oh and some clean underwear and socks too. Most of your things are in police custody and I figured you would want a clean set” he continues, pulling a pack of tins from one of the bags. He opens the lid of one of the tins and pulls the fabric out to show Eunho.

“Isn’t it amazing?” he asks and Eunho’s lips twist wryly in response.

“Ah okay maybe you already knew about these. But I learnt about them a few days ago. So don’t judge me okay?” Jiheon protests, embarrassed at his own excitement when Eunho doesn’t share it. Eunho smiles despite himself and after a moment even Jiheon smiles, stuffing the underwear back into the tin and trying to reseal it the best way he can.

“I met Boy A. What was his name again...?” Jiheon tries to recollect.

“Kang Minki” Eunho supplies quietly. “Why did you meet Minki?”

“He came to visit you the very first day you were in the ICU” Jiheon tells him. “He grew up a lot from what I remembered.”

“How long have I been here?” Eunho asks, noting how Jiheon said first day.

“Seven days now. We were worried you might never wake up” Jiheon confesses. He removes the lid from one container of the soup and puts a plastic spoon in before handing it to Eunho.

“I don’t know which outcome would have been better. To have never woken up or to wake up only to live as a murderer” Eunho says, cradling the hot container.

This is perhaps the most truthful sentence Eunho has ever said to Jiheon and both men realize it. Now that Eunho’s confession has been recorded and surely processed as evidence in the case against him, Eunho no longer feels the need to lie. It’s a straightforward process now. He will be arrested, tried for murder and charged when found guilty. This is the only certain aspect of the dark future that looms ahead.

“When Minki saw me, he called me a murderer. Screamed and yelled and almost struck me across my face. You should have heard his voice. The policemen had to hold him down so that the other people in the hospital were not harmed” Jiheon starts. Eunho focuses on the cooling soup instead of looking at Jiheon but the older man remains unfazed.

“Looking back, I am grateful he did that because if he hadn’t then I would never have noticed the tattoo on his arm. The same tattoo as the one on that kid who hit that child’s negligent mother. You might even know the tattoo I am talking about. He got it at a local tattoo parlor when he was at Haemil.”

“Many people were part of Haemil” Eunho tenses up.

Jiheon knows.

Jiheon knows and he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel more dread and anxiety at his words than when he was being investigated multiple times and constantly having to prove his ‘innocence’.

“Many people were. Jae Kwang was. Minki was. You were too, along with your estranged brother. So strange isn’t it? The world really is very small” Jiheon laughs. There is more emotion behind that sound but it pales in comparison to the turbulence in Eunho’s mind. The heart rate monitor beeps faster and Jiheon glances at it worriedly before turning to Eunho.

“What happened to him?” Eunho gathers the courage to ask. He avoids the word brother or saying anything that could link the kind doctor to him or the Red Cry. There is still hope that Jiheon might not know the full truth, isn’t there?

“We investigated Haemil. There was another murder. Siwan’s father. He was caught soon after” Jiheon tells him. “The trials will begin soon.”

“I know what you must think of my brother. What you thought of Red Cry” Eunho starts. “But my brother wasn’t a bad person for what he did.”

“I used to think that way. When Park Jihye was murdered, I didn’t consider it a victory of justice. Murder was still murder. She hadn’t been able to protect her child. It should not have been enough to kill someone over but it was and it was still a crime” Jiheon recounts.

“But then I met Hana. Little Hana who had nowhere to go. Who wouldn’t even speak or cry because she was so terrified that even one wrong sound could get her killed. A little girl who knew death so closely at an age when it should never have crossed her mind. When we were in the danger of losing her, I found myself praying that the Red Cry would find and murder her father. That time, it didn’t feel like a crime. It felt like God’s will being carried out on an evil demon.”

“Taejoo hyung did find him and kill him in the end.”

“Even as someone who promised to uphold the law, I was relieved. When I saw that Hana and Wookyung were safe and that man could no longer harm her, I felt so relieved.”

“What else did Taejoo hyung tell you?”

“He told me about everything you went through because of the head director.”

Eunho feels his eyes well up and tears start to fall. Try as he might, the floodgate has opened and rushing water can never be stopped easily. His tears fall into the lukewarm soup that had been long forgotten in his arms but the rush of memories comes faster. He loathed that study. Still loathes it. He hated every word of every damned poem he was made to recite while standing in that damned room.

But above all he hates himself the most. Hates himself for always being helpless. Hates himself for being so weak that he couldn’t do anything against the monster of the man who had adopted him. Hates himself for not being stronger and leaving when Wookyung gave him the chance. For always coming back to the children center because it was the only home he knew and he couldn’t risk any of the children going through the same fate at the hands of the head director or his son.

The only thing he has successfully done in life is fail everyone.

Jiheon takes the soup away and places his jacket on Eunho’s shoulders. Eunho looks up to him, his vision hazy from the salt water.

“Yoon Taejoo hired one of the best lawyers to represent you. The lawyer is going to argue mental insanity and confession under duress” Jiheon tells him. “If they succeed, you might be free after a reduced sentence. They will also appeal to get you counselled for everything you've been through.”

This time Eunho really does cry. He lied to protect his brother and not the other way around. His brother had a successful life before he met Eunho. If he had never met Eunho and learnt of his suffering, he would never have been motivated to become the Red Cry. He could have lived a happy life.

“Maybe I should have died at the lighthouse” Eunho's voice is course as he chokes slightly on his tears. Jiheon is back on his feet and fetches water for him. The act doesn't provide any relief.

“Why are you still here? Why are you helping me after everything?” Eunho asks harshly. This kindness is not deserved and very unwelcome. Eunho doesn't want to stick around and find out how he will manage to ruin Jiheon's life too.

“Why did you go all the way to that abandoned lighthouse? Taejoo said that you were too young to remember your family when your mother abandoned you” Jiheon thinks out loud.

“I wanted to die” Eunho confesses. “I wanted to die but I also wanted to see that place. The place that changed my life forever.”

“What did you feel when you saw it?”

“That it was ironic that something beautiful could be the place of something so sad.”

“The mental asylum has a rehabilitation program for people admitted there” Jiheon tells him. “One of the programs is volunteering for the juvenile center. I'm sure they would admit a man with your skill level easily. You're allowed to spend some time with the children there if you're judged fit enough mentally.”

“If the lawyer convinces the judge” Eunho reminds him.

“I guess we just wait and see” Jiheon says to himself more than Eunho.

“You should go home Detective Kang. You've troubled yourself enough” Eunho says finally.

“I'm actually staying the night” Jiheon informs him, sitting on a chair and leaning back to get comfortable. “I sent Minki home to study for his GEDs. He could barely concentrate and his exam is in two days.”

“I think he will do well” he adds, noting Eunho's worried expression. “He said he didn't want to let you down after everything you did for him.”

“Will you be here tomorrow too?”

“If no new cases come up then yes.”

“Will you really stay the night?”

“My shift starts at 9 so I will leave by 8. But till then I am staying.”

The two men fall silent. It's a different kind of silence from the first time Jiheon walked into the room. Eunho still has no idea how to feel. Without the wall of carefully constructed lies and their antagonistic beliefs between them, he feels lost and unsure of what to make of Jiheon. He doesn't know how to interpret his jacket keeping him warm and the soup lying abandoned on the table.

“I'm sorry for everything” Eunho apologizes. It feels like the thing to say even though a simple apology would not even begin to cover it.

“I'm sorry too. For everything” Jiheon responds.

Eunho nods and lays back. He brushes off Jiheon, indicating that the half upright position is comfortable enough. He closes his eyes and dreams of standing at the lighthouse again, watching the water crash against the rocks and letting the mind numbing sound swallow his thoughts whole.

-Finish-