#since he’s probably pretty big and shrimp are tiny

[quibbs126]

Today I learned there’s a bunch of interesting shrimp, and now I want them as Cookies

I’m just going to list some I found today. I’ve already talked about Pistol Shrimp, so I won’t talk about it here

Harlequin Shrimp:

Like where do these things start and end? I don’t know, but they look really cool. I heard they can also change color based on their mood. If you were to make them a Cookie, I’d say make them a clown, perhaps for a rival circus to the Big Top Circus (that was the name of Banana and Ice Juggler’s circus, right?)

Amano Shrimp:

Okay, so maybe they’re not the most interesting looking, and maybe also not the most interesting, but still. Though also I hear that they change color based on their diet? I dunno. But what I was looking at that I thought was interesting was that they’re apparently very active cleaners. I feel like you could make them a cleaner that’s also very particular about messes, and perhaps a bit of a germaphobe? Like, if they see a mess, they just have to clean it

Vampire Shrimp:

(They apparently come in multiple colors, so I just got a few different pictures of different colors)

I think what makes them most interesting is that despite their size (apparently they’re pretty big, at least for shrimp) and name, they’re apparently rather calm and non aggressive. Also they’re supposedly pretty shy and reclusive. Honestly, it kind of reminded me of Dark Choco Cookie, which is probably a big reason I like them. Also they’re very big and bulky, which makes them look kind of cute to me, I don’t know why. Also they only come out at night, which is probably another reason for their name

I don’t have much in terms of ideas for a Vampire Shrimp Cookie, other than people finding them scary at first, only to realize they’re really not. I just wanted to show you them (also I feel like using this for a Dark Choco/Lobster kid if I ever do one)

Ghost/Glass Shrimp:

I mostly just added them because it’s an easy “ghost Cookie” if you wanted to have one. Also they’re see through, which is cool

Bay Ghost Shrimp:

Apparently these shrimps are soft, or at least softer than other shrimp. Also they have asymmetrical claws, as you can see. They apparently spend a lot of time burrowing. I’m also running out of ideas for how to turn this into a Cookie, but I thought it was neat. I suppose it would be something pertaining to its digging abilities

I think I’m gonna stop here, but still, cool shrimp

Edit: oh, also, another one, Boxer Shrimp, also known as Banded Coral Shrimp, among other names

Apparently they use their claws to clean fish and remove things like algae and parasites from them to eat. Also they can sense fish with their antenna apparently. I’d say either go the obvious route of a boxer, or something to do with their cleaning thing, though I don’t know what. Perhaps some sort of doctor? Maybe just confined to other sea creatures?

Also Fairy Shrimp

I wasn’t able to find much on them, but they’re relatively large and slow and typically used as food. Also they like to swim upside down. They’d probably make for a more cute Cookie

You know, I find it kind of ironic how I’m now thinking shrimp are really cool, despite the fact that my dad is allergic to shrimp (and I’m not sure if I am), and my family just generally dislikes seafood

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something I was trying to figure out was how long Splinter & Big Mama actually dated 

Splinter: I met her in human form on the set of Crouching Shrimp Hidden Tiger Prawn

We know from the flashback that Splinter met Big Mama in the 80′s as the year listed is 1984, so we know what year Splinter & Big Mama started dating but we don’t know the exact year that Big Mama kidnapped Splinter for the Battle Nexus.

Splinter: I was going to ask her to marry me but instead of accepting my proposal she revealed she was a giant spider who kidnapped me to the Hidden City and forced me to fight in the Battle Nexus 

According to tweets made by Russ Carney & Ron Corcillo, Splinter was at the Battle Nexus for around a decade & since we know from the episodes The Evil League of Mutants & Goyles, Goyles, Goyles that Splinter was kidnapped from the Battle Nexus 13 years before season 1 takes place in 2018

Huginn & Muninn: Was 13 years ago today he made those Turtles with the ooze!

Huginn: You want us to sneak into the Hidden City’s most heavily guarded place the Battle Nexus?

Muninn: And kidnap it’s most powerful champion Lou Jitsu!?

If the Turtles were created 13 years before the events of season 1 then they must have been mutated on the same year Mikey was born, 2005 so if Splinter spent around 10 years in the Battle Nexus before he was mutated in 2005 then Splinter must have been kidnapped in around 1995.

Splinter: Big Mama and I were inseparable

If Big Mama kidnapped Splinter in 1995 then that means that they had been dating around 11 years after they had started dating in 1984, that’s around 11 years of dating before Splinter asked Big Mama to marry him & she kidnapped him, that’s a pretty long relationship it’s probably why Splinter still has some feelings for her despite what she did to him.

Splinter: I do miss our pre-kidnapping times 

Splinter: Hello Big Mama

Throughout the series Splinter has been shown to hold onto things from his past as Lou Jitsu as seen by him wearing his old Lou Jitsu jumpsuit throughout the series.

Splinter: My Lou Jitsu jumpsuit from my award winning Lou Jitsu dojos! What on earth are you doing on my shoulders? 

Splinter hanging onto pieces of his old life is a recurring theme throughout the series such as when he tricks Donnie & Mikey into coming with him to a demolition derby in the episode Turtle Dega Nights the Ballad of Rat Man because he was chasing the feeling of ‘glory’ that he felt as a Battle Nexus Champion or when he felt protective of his old Lou Jitsu dojos in the episode Fists of Furry 

Splinter: I wake up every day as a tiny rat man and I wanted some glory back in my life

Splinter: Today is my long overdue dojo inspection day to make sure they are teaching my moves properly 

It’s been shown that Splinter holds onto things from his old life as Lou Jitsu & for better or worse Big Mama was part of his old life as Lou Jitsu which might be why he still holds on to some feelings from their old relationship 

Though it’s unclear if Splinter either genuinely still loves Big Mama despite everything she’s done or if he’s holding onto the feelings he had had for her because he has trouble letting go of his old life whatever the cause, Splinter does still have feelings for Big Mama

Splinter: I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you again, my sassy sugar badger 

Splinter: Come with us Big Mama there is still good in you!

He still believes in Big Mama’s ‘goodness’ not only after their history where she had kidnapped him & forced him to fight for a decade but also right after she had just kidnapped all of New York, directly endangered his sons & had lied about keeping the Shredder in his prison.

It makes me wonder just what Splinter & Big Mama’s relationship was like for him to hold onto his feelings for her, true he & Big Mama dated for 11 years before she kidnapped him but by the time of season 2 it’s been around 24 years since then. It makes me wonder what their relationship was like for Splinter to hold onto it so much.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Congrats to 500!! I'd love to get a match up with a ghoul!!! Bare with my description it's my first time for a match up.

So I am a nonbinary transboy. I use he/him pronouns and occasionally they/them pronouns or even neopronouns when I am comfortable enough with a person. I am almost 22 years old. I am queer (maybe bi, but a strong preference for boys and maybe girls in a poly relationship), poly and demisexual.

I am very tiny, a shrimp, a gremlin, 5'0. I have rather fair skin, crystal blue eyes and short wavy dyed dark red hair (sticks into every direction, untamable curls). In summer I have freckles across my nose. My style is a mix of alternative subcultures, mostly grunge and metalcore.

I am autistic! I can appear as shy as I struggle in social situations and have severe social anxiety but overall I am rather loud and roudy even. Just very bubbly and passionate. My special interests are vampire, musicals, RE Village, Jurassic Park and Sleep Token (and Ghost haha). I can also appear as rude as I am really sarcastic and have a good amount of dark humour. My love language is bullying. But also gift giving and acts of service. I love showing people I appreciate them without having to say it (or openly show it.) I am very hesitant of intimacy but also crave affection and closeness. Overall I am rough on the outside and soft on the inside.

I have chronic pain and some days struggle to walk and stand for a long period of time generally. I have severe anxiety and depression since I was a child and a problematic relationship with my parents (got kicked out last weekend). I have the lowest self-esteem and can't see myself as lovable.

I like to say I despise humans and would gladly live in isolation but I love kids a lot and study to become a teacher for Latin. I also love caring for animals and have a special way to connect with them. Especially cats seem to seek me out and find comfort in my presence. Besides having fun in caring for others, I like listening to music, mainly rock and metal but honestly everything, drawing, scrapbooking, playing videogames and boardgames and reading. I love to sing and dance and would love to learn how to play the guitar.

Your match is... Aether

Aether's a pretty big guy, so he finds your size difference adorable and he'll probably carry you around.

Will he be smacked for that? Yes, most likely. Does he care? No, absolutely not.

He's got plenty of "experience" with Sodo. The two are very good friends, but we all know Sodo's got temper, so Aether gets smacked or has things thrown at him all the time, he's used to it.

He likes your hair and will play with it to get attention. Even it it's a smack to the face or a kick in the balls. Totally worth it.

He actually likes the scrapbooks you make! Tries to make one, but it's mostly just chaos and bunch of random stickers he found. He will steal stickers to put more of them in his scrapbook and show it off to you.

He likes playing any sort of games with you. Prefers video games, though.

Watches almost too closely as you make art or read. He likes being close to you, so if you can't do these things while he's wrapped around you... You might wanna learn that.

Happy to listen to music with you! He's very eager to discover your music taste and share his!

Don't worry about your issues or pains. He's absolutely willing to carry you around (he's a buff dude, it's his pleasure to carry you!) if you can't walk. Never complains about it because he absolutely loves it.

He's good at keeping your mind busy. Mostly because he's just... A pretty chaotic and energetic guy.

If your parents try to reach you, you can only wish them luck. He will not hesitate to take your phone and give them a piece of his mind.

And if they come to you in person? They won't even get close, you've got a buff Ghoul boyfriend to scare them off. He will get in a fight for you.

Takes you on the most fun dates he can imagine afterwards.

He's also very affectionate and if he ever hears anything about you being unlovable, he's gonna bite you until you stop saying bullshit like that. Kisses and licks the wounds afterwards.

You are lovable, he loves you and that's it.

~

Written by Jez.

This post is a part of the Match-up event. The event ended on July 15th.

[slashingdisneypasta]

I've finally figured out how to fit Shiny in the Tiny Tots AU if you'd like XD (of course you don't have to answer if you don't want to ^^)

- Originally I was gonna have Shiny the same age as Jessica (not just in this AU, but in general). However now that I'm developing her more, I think I'm gonna make her 14 rather than 10. So she's closer to Smartass' and Greasy's age group. She is also no longer in her magician phase because of this (though I'm thinking maybe this would be when she starts getting into dancing. Not club dancing! But like maybe she finds a way to sneak into a regular dance studio, sees all the people practicing, and decides that this is what she wants to do).

- Shiny is just starting out on her menace-to-society life XD she's just starting to shoplift, pick pocket people using her slight of hand skills, and she's getting better at lying. So she will not be an easy child like Stu or Roger.

- Since she's one of the older kids, Shiny would probably hang around Greasy, Smartass, and Wheezy more often than the little ones. I've already got ideas for how their relationships would be (though as I develop Shiny and the AU more, this may change).

With Wheezy, well he's the designated dad so we know where this is going XD Shiny tries to hide and deny it, but she does genuinely like him and trust him. She's just scared he's going to go away or something (still haven't figured out a blood family situation for her. But it definitely wouldn't be a happy one). So she tries to keep a safe emotional distance in case it does. As such, she's like Greasy in a sense that she's one of the more distant children of the group; wandering off on her own, not completely sharing what's going on with herself, etc. That and, she's a teenage girl. She does throw a bit of attitude his way every now and then (ngl I can see them having that same argument Lilo and Nani did at some point. Wheezy is stressed but worried for this kid, and Shiny is getting defensive because or hormones and she doesn't want to be emotionally vulnerable, "If I'm so much trouble, why don't you just drop me and go live your own life!?"). But she does still listen to him; if he asks her to watch over one of the kids, she'll stay. If he offers some advice, she'll keep it in mind, etc.

With Greasy, they actually get along pretty well, and can work together to be menaces XD They have similar backgrounds and wanderlust. Though Shiny, even at 14, has more control than him. She likes Wheezy, so if Greasy has gone off on his own even though Wheezy asked him to stay, Shiny will volunteer to go find him and bring him back. Or if he's being a jerk to anybody in the group, she'll lightly smack his arm or something and tell him to cut it out, etc (she wouldn't care if it was a stranger though). I can see Greasy offering her tips he picked up off the street, and even looking out for her if they're out together. Maybe she winds up opening up to him first because they're so close even.

These two aren't related, but I like the idea of Smartass and Shiny developing a sibling relationship XD Shiny goes off to bug him when Greasy isn't around, she calls him Shrimp because he's small and pink, and Smartass is just so damn tired of this crazy kid when he already has to deal with everybody else XD but I can also see them having an emotional moment too. Like Shiny finds Smarty on his own, she can sense there's something wrong with him and for once she's calm. She sits with him, maybe they don't talk because she knows he's not like that and she understands not wanting to share your trauma. But she just sits with him, not pestering him or anything. Just letting him know he isn't alone.

- Even though she hangs around the big kids more, Shiny does love the little ones too ^^ Stupid- she adores the baby boy. Who doesn't? She will attempt to steal him from one of the others if she wants to hold him XD Psycho, she feels like he should be her missing cousin with how energetic they both are. And Poppy honestly gravitated towards her; Poppy, like Roger with Jessica, thinks Shiny is so cool. And she reminds her of her best friend Psycho, so that's even better in her head ^^ Shiny absolutely does not mind and bonds with her.

- If Shiny ever found out about any of their home situations, she'd be furious and sad on their behalf, and she'd want to confront the adults herself. Even the ones who might not even be in the picture anymore. And she totally asks Wheezy why he hasn't adopted everyone already XD "You're already their dad! Why not make it legal???"

- Shiny also joins in with Wheezy about teaching Jessica and Poppy how to deal with creeps.

This is all I got for now. And again, this may change in the future. But here you go anyway XD I hope you like reading these ^^

These were SO fun to read yesterday!! ^^ I love them! Especially Shiny trynna get Wheezy to just ADOPT them XDDD I can imagine this scene going, like- she tries to storm off and find Poppy's parents or something, and Wheezy catches up with her (Doesn't grab her. Very important. Maybe he can grab up the little ones and just sorta carry them off when they misbehave but not past Smartass- and not Smartass!! 😅😅) like uh uh nope you get back here feisty pants and she whirls on HIM.

He's just like... damnit. But takes it cuz this is one of his kids.

[burnwater13]

Grogu thought he’d recognized Boba Fett! When he was finally introduced to the Daimyo he felt like he’d met him before. Years earlier. Maybe at the Jedi Temple? That hadn’t made much sense to him until Din Djarin explained that Boba Fett’s father had been Jango Fett. Then it all fell into place. 

At least that’s what he told the Mandalorian. In reality Grogu had talked to Fennec and she had explained what she knew about her boss and friend. He had been orphaned during the Clone Wars, like so many other children. Boba Fett’s father had been a well known bounty hunter and Mandalorian foundling, just like Grogu’s father, Din Djarin. 

What he hadn’t really realized (giggle) was that Jango Fett had been used as a cloning template. Uff. That must have been awful. People poking and prodding him and all that. Grogu hoped he’d been compensated for his time and trouble. He hated that Boba’s dad had been treated that way.

Fennec said they had made millions of clones of him. Wow. It was almost impossible to imagine. All those humans looking exactly alike. Sounding alike. Smelling alike. Uff. Humans didn’t smell good as it was. Grogu didn’t like to imagine what a million humans smelled like… oh, sorry, he knows what they smell like. He grew up on Coruscant after all and it had a population of trillions and more than half of those people were human. 

Which, come to think of it, made a few million Jango Fetts a lot easier to imagine. After all the galactic population of humans was estimated be larger than a quadrillion. Which was an amazing number. It was huge. Bigger than huge really, but in a galaxy that had over 400 billion star systems and billions of habitable planets, you had to figure the number would get really big, really fast. 

So, if he was getting the math right, just on Coruscant, Jango Fetts would have been one person per 1.3 million people. Grogu had never met 1.3 million people (regardless of their smell) and that meant it was surprising that anyone had met them at all. Of course the Force worked in mysterious ways and since they were clones, they were probably all at someplace at the same time. 

Huh. He wondered if that’s what Moff Gideon was trying to do? Make millions of Grogu clones! But then, why would anyone want millions of tiny Force users moving around the galaxy and charming everyone they met that wasn’t a Stormtrooper? Oh no! Tiny Force users! 

He bet Moff Gideon hoped to have his army of Grogus move from planet to planet and use the Force to convince people to follow him and start the empire up with the Moff as the new emperor! Dank Farrik! And even if those Grogus refused, just like he had, because the DNA doesn’t change much in the replicator, the environmental damage that millions of Grogus could do was substantial. Think of the frogs and the fire-shrimp! Grogus had a big appetite. 

And if you thought about it, millions of Grogus would be much easier to move around the galaxy than millions of people sized like Moff Gideon. The Moff was 1.83 meters tall and weighed roughly 75 kilos. Grogu was only 0.34 meters tall and weighed almost 6 kilos. Just the numbers all on their own suggested that millions of Grogus was the way to go if you were going to build a new clone army of Force workers!

It made Grogu shiver. Moff Gideon’s were hard to hide, even in a huge galaxy, but Grogus? They would be so easy to hide. They could sneak into small bags, back packs, and things like a spittoon and no one would notice. But unlike Boba Fett, people wouldn’t recognize his face, if they happened to bump into one of the Grogus before it was too late. Grogu wasn’t a famous bounty hunter and even though his dad was, Grogu thought it was fair to say, that other than sharing their beautiful brown eye color, he and his dad looked nothing alike. 

He wondered what he should do? Should he tell his dad? Or ask the Daimyo for advice? It seemed pretty urgent. 

Fortunately Fennec came to his rescue. 

“Kid, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Moff Gideon is too arrogant to make clones of you. Mark my words, they’ll all be made like him. Mores the pity. I’d much rather deal with a bunch of Grogus than a bunch of Gideons.”

Grogu asked her why, since he was the son another Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

“Yup and they will all want to be fierce protectors of the people they love. I would take them all to Mandalore and before you knew it that planet would be livable again.” Fennec cackled and gave him a frog flavored lollipop before he could ask her another question. 

He supposed that was for the best. He was going to ask her how he could get his hands on some cloning equipment.

[butwhyduh]

Getting tall

Summary: Damian finally hits his growth spurts and the fam have opinions. Some damijon, timkon, jaytemis, and dickori mentioned.

Damian was an adorable tiny murder baby when he first showed up at the manor. Like a feral kitten. Short end of normal growth at 10 years old and thin too, Dr Leslie found. Make sure he eats 3 square meals and snacks when he wants and he’ll be just fine. Alfred had made it his mission, as he had done for both Jason and Tim, to put weight on Damian.

The first family member he outgrew was Cass. She reached over to ruffle his hair only to reach up above her head rather than below it. She didn’t mind. 5’4 isn’t very tall. She’d just have to remember that the next time they spar. Height wasn’t an important factor to her.

It was a few months later that Damian hit a massive growth spurt and grew 4 inches. He passed by 5’6 Stephanie.

“Hey little dude. What are they puttin in your food, miracle grow?” She asked when she noted how tall he was and how big his feet had gotten. Damian was a bit like the giant puppies all gangly. Alfred was adjusting the Robin costume monthly after Damian rushed to put it on for patrol one day and every time he raised his arms he felt his stomach show. Clothes were constantly being bought that met his newest height increase. The Kents were very appreciative of the barely worn clothing Jon got as Damian went through another pair.

“I’m perfectly normal in growth,” he said pulling on the hem of his shirt that was growing shorter by the day. Stephanie eyed him but left it. Tim hated the height jokes they would make when everyone started passing him in height. Nowadays Tim just rolled his eyes and deferred all short jokes to Bart who Damian was now taller than. Bart didn’t care at all because he was short but he was also at least top 3 faster people ever so who cares right?

For a very short time, Damian was taller than Jon. He liked that. Jon thought it was pretty funny.

“D, I’m going to be taller. My dad and mom are both taller than yours. I’ll be taller in the end,” Jon said with a grin before Damian pushed him off the roof. Jon giggled and stared at Damian with obvious heart eyes. The kid was definitely smitten.

Tim was half an inch taller. He didn’t acknowledge it in any way. But it wasn’t surprising. His mother was tiny, his father lower end of average, and Tim probably skipped too many meals with working during an important growth phase while he was becoming Robin. 5’8.5 is a perfectly normal height for a man. He had an easier time with stealth.

Bruce watched as his son grew more handsome and taller everyday. He recognized things he hadn’t taken the time to see with Dick or Jason and had missed completely with Tim. Aftershave, cologne, and deodorant budget went up exponentially and Damian was barred from bringing any of his shoes in the house and his Robin uniform had to double washed occasionally. He spent far longer in the bathroom doing his hair and agonizing over any spot on his face.

Bruce even once caught Damian do the lean on the doorframe while talking to someone they like when Jon visited once. He had to give the worst birds and bees talk of all time. Bruce also noted how Damian had Talia’s nose and his lip curled the same way hers did when he smiled. He stretched when walking to the breakfast table the same way Dick did.

Damian didn’t get another true growth spurt for 2 years. There was plenty of jokes that he jumped up to his height and didn’t move again. Jon was once again taller than Damian. Alfred was ready this time with the massive amount of food the 15 year old could put away and panels in his costume for easier adjustments.

Talia smiled proudly at her son as he grew taller than her. He was turning out handsome like his father but kept her feature and in her mind, that was the perfect combo. She never told Damian because she didn’t him to grow arrogant.

Dick didn’t notice it right away. He was so busy with Bludhaven and the Titans that he didn’t notice Damian had gotten a full inch taller than him. He only realized when him and Damian practiced a complex move that required a taller and shorter partner while training. They paired up as they always did and the maneuver completely fell apart. Dick was mentally putting together why it failed when Damian walked over and it clicked. Little D was not so little anymore.

“You’re taller than me,” he said brightly. Damian immediately grinned.

“So now you’re little D,” Damian said back. Dick laughed at that one.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I can throw you around like a tilt-a-whirl,” Dick warned. Of course, that’s exactly what happened the next time they sparred when Damian tried to use his height advantage.

“I can beat Jason so don’t think you can beat me just by being bigger,” Dick said standing over Damian who rolled his eyes.

Dick had no problem with Damian getting taller. It was his own height he had a complicated relationship with. See, Dick grew up as an acrobat. Being tall is a disadvantage. More weight to swing, more body to move. And his father had told him growing up that almost every Grayson man has been 5’8. It’s a legacy as strong as flying above the circus crowd.

And so when at 15, Dick was very distraught with the fact that he hadn’t stopped growing at 5’8. It felt like a part of his history and family legacy had died. He wasn’t one of the 5’8 Grayson men. He never told anyone beside Kori, late at night where she told him she loved him tall or small. She had already far outpaced Dick and was on her way to being 6’4.

Duke and Alfred and Damian were the same height for a short while. Duke would joke that he could just wear the Robin’s costume since they were the same size. Damian would threaten to disembowel him if he touched it and that made Duke laugh even more.

When he grew taller Duke once again joked with Damian calling him a not so jolly green giant and Alfred considered his nutrition attempt a complete success. Damian went from a tiny kid to a tall strong young man.

Damian and Jon were practically the same size for a while. Jon barely bent his neck to rest his chin on Damian’s shoulder as his partner worked on a complex mechanical part. Then Jon hit another growth spurt to end in his final height of 6’2, same as Bruce and his father. Damian enjoyed having a taller boyfriend for a while but would never say anything. High school dances were nice.

Bruce could see Damian getting taller and stronger and was practically grown. Dr Leslie warned Bruce that growth could continue until Damian was in his early 20s and he could end up a quite tall young man or stop tomorrow.

Jason liked being the tallest and biggest in the family. He had an entire inch in height on Bruce and was at least 20 lbs heavier. He was built like tank. When Jason had died at 15, he was terrifyingly thin. Alfred had tried his best but Jason had suffered malnutrition and hunger from practically birth. He was short and thin and Dr Leslie had told Bruce he probably always would be. And so when Jason came back to life a giant 6’3 and over 200 lbs, it was a shock. It took him forever to accept his size as anything more than an amour to create fear in his enemies. The first time he had accidentally scared a woman walking in the street at night, Jason had hated that he was so big. But within his family, it had become a source of pride. He was certainly taller than Dick and Alfred and even Bruce.

So when he visited Cass’s birthday party and Jason stood next to Damian and realized that the kid was taller than him, he was a little shocked. Damian had reached his final height of 6’4.

“When the hell did you get so big?” Jason asked while cake was being served. Dick nosed in the conversation.

“Little D is taller than you now,” he said with a teasing grin at Jason.

“And yet you insist on calling me Little D,” Damian said with an eye roll.

“I call him Big D,” Jon said with a smile. Dick blanched and Jason coughed out an awkward laugh.

“Good for you, bro,” he said patting Damian on the back. Jon blushed at the sudden understanding.

“No! I mean- he’s taller than me. I didn’t mean- uh,” Jon stuttered. Damian grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away from his brothers who were laughing.

“It’s weird you know,” Jason admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“The fact that he is dating Jon?”

“No, they’ve been together forever. That he’s taller than me,” Jason said.

“Are you- does it bother you that you aren’t the tallest?” Dick asked with a gleeful smile.

“No,” Jason said abruptly.

“It could be like how I learned my little brother was bigger than me,” Dick teased. “All of a sudden you were just massive. My tiny little brother was this big dude. Good thing I’m comfortable with my masculinity.”

“Your girlfriend is like 6 inches taller than you. If that isn’t emasculating then there’s nothing I could do,” Jason answered.

“Yeah, she’s always been taller than me,” Dick said with a fond smile. “You can’t talk with the Amazon you’ve been hanging with.” He pushed Jason’s shoulder with a grin.

“We’re just friends-I guess,” Jason said uncomfortable. “That’s not the same-“

“Well at least Tim will always be our little brother,” Dick changed the subject but mentally noted Jason’s reaction to the mention of Artemis.

“Yeah, he’ll always be a shrimp,” Jason agreed.

“Honestly fuck you both,” Tim said from across the room. With Kon standing next to him he certainly looked tiny.

“Hey, it’s my birthday and I am the shortest and I can still kick all of your butts,” Cassandra reminded them both and they laughed but neither corrected her because they knew she was right.

[ravewood]

One Night Fuck Up: pt5

Juice Ortiz Imagine

pt1

masterlist

It was almost a full year since Juice found out he was a dad. There was a lot of difficulties to work through as you and Juice became co parents. It took you a while to trust him, he was a complete stranger at first. But Juice really proved himself and he was the best father to Anthony.

Co parenting was so easy to work out. Juice was more then willing to do anything for Ant and for you. It was really nice having him around. With raising your son together, Juice easily became your best friend in all of this. 

Juice would watch Ant whenever you had work, no question asked even if it was an over night or rotating shift. He always told you if he was going to be away for a run or whatever club businesses. Sometimes Juice stayed all weekend at your house to spend time with Ant. Sometimes you let Juice take Ant for the weekend when he knew he had absolutely no club businesses to deal with. 

It was perfect.

Juice was more excited then normal today. He loved his son, more then anything. He’s pretty sure his son taught him what love was. It was great seeing Anthony growing and learning. He was more and more like Juice everyday. 

Juice quickly was wrapping up at the club house. He got everything he needed to do out the way. Sure he would still pick up calls from the club but he really hated having to make any runs when it was his time with his son. 

“Where you in a rush too?” Happy asked as he watched his brother running around the club house with his book bag. 

“With Ant this weekend.” Juice said with a smile. The club was more then supportive when finding out about Juice having a kid. They never let him live it down when they found about what the pool table part. 

“staying at Y/N house?” Jax asked with a teasing smile. He knew how Juice felt about you. He didn't try to hide his feelings either but with learning to co parent together, starting anything romantic wasn’t a good idea. 

“I feel like I’m forgetting something.” Juice said mumbling more to himself as he double checked everything. He felt like he was in a rush to see Ant and you. He parked his bike in your drive way in his usual place. 

“Hey Y/N.” Juice said as he made his way in the house. He walked over to you placing a kiss to your cheek as you where busy in the kitchen. 

“Hey Juice! You’re earlier.” You said smiling up at him. He was the father of you son, he quickly got comfortable sending so much time at your house. You liked having him around. 

“Sorry, I should’ve called to let you know.” Juice said, he still felt like he was on eggshells around you. He didn’t want to cross a line and ruin everything. He wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you and Ant. You both where his family. 

“No thank god your here. I’m running late and Ant’s been having a tantrum since last night.” You said making Juice laugh as you ran through the house. 

“Daddy!” Juice heard a loud voice followed by tiny foot steps running through the hallway. 

“Hey Ant.” He said easily picking up the three year old into his arms. 

“Mama said you where being bad.” Juice said as he walked through the house. He felt so comfortable here, it felt more like home then his actual home. Well his dorm. 

“I have left overs shrimp and rice in the fridge when you get hungry. Theres also a weird noise coming from the hall bathroom anytime you turn the sink on. I’ll be back probably early morning. or the middle of the night.” You said as you threw your hair in a bun already in your scrubs. 

“I’ll have my phone, so call me if-” Juice caught you off by handing you the keys.

“I got it, don’t worry. ” Juice said leaning down placing a lingering kiss to your temple making your smile. You loved the extra attention Juice has been giving you. It was hard not to fall in love with him when he was literal perfect. He was such a gentleman. He took care of you and Anthony. He was an amazing father. 

“You’re the best.” You said as you stood on your tippy toes and gave Anthony a big kiss on his forehead. 

“Be good for daddy.” You said giving him a stern look. You see a big goofy grin on the toddler that he got from his father. 

“No kiss for daddy?” Juice asked making you blush as you grabbed your things as you gave him a little glare. 

“Well now what do you want to do today Ant?” Juice asked as he plopped down on the couch with the toddler. Any was more like his dad everyday, he was even picking up Juice’s habits the more time he spent with him. 

It was a long day, or both you and Juice. The hospital was so short staffed you felt like you where doing the job of 4 different nurses. Juice had his hands full with Anthony bossing him around all day. From wanting to go to the park, to trying and help Juice fix the skin at the house. Anthony most definitely had Juice’s ADHD. 

It was around 1 am, Juice was passed out laying in Ant’s small race car bed. He clearly didn’t fit his legs hanging off on the floor. Getting Ant to bed was a challenge every night. Juice had to tell him at least 4 different stories before Ant fell asleep on his chest. 

You groaned as you walked into the house. It was spotless, like always. Juice always cleaned up, you didn’t want him to but he did either way. You smiled realizing he fixed a few things around the house as well.

“Juice?” You called out not seeing him on the couch. You walked into Ant rooms smiling when you found them cuddled up against each other. You quickly took picture of them knowing it was going to be your next background on your phone. 

“Juice wake up.” You said shortly rubbing his shoulder. 

“Y/N your home already?” Juice grumbled in a deep husky voice as he looked over at you in your scrubs. He easily picked up Ant as he got up leaving the toddler in the bed. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Juice said as you both walked out the room. 

“Thank you Juice.” You said giving him a big smile making him melt inside. 

“You don’t got to say that. I love being here with him.” Juice said. He kept to himself that he loved being here when you where here too. This was the worst part, he hated leaving. 

“Do you want coffee or something before you go?” You asked your eyes watching him desperately. 

“That would be nice.” Juice said following you into the kitchen. 

“How was work?” He asked as he watched you move around making a cup for you both. 

“You know, stressful and busy.” You said as you hopped on the counter. Juice was leaning over watching you. He loved having moments like this alone with you. 

“How was Ant today?” You asked Juice knowing there was always some good stories he would tell you. 

“He’s been asking for a little brother to plat with. He told me I’m old and I’m not good at playing tag.” Juice said giving you that charming smile of his. 

“Oh god.” you groaned covering your face as you felt it heat up. 

“ I told him, maybe for Christmas.” Juice joked back only making your face redder. He knew exactly what he did to you. 

“Juice!” You yelled smacking his arms only making him laugh. 

“Have you thought about having more kids? in the future you know. If you meet someone.” Juice asked feeling his heart get heavy. 

“I’ve never thought about it. I never really thought about meeting someone and letting them into Ants life like that.” You said as you watched Juice. What you would give to be able to read his mind. 

“Have you ever thought about us?” Juice asked, as he stepped closer to you. He was standing between your legs as you sat on top of the counter. 

“I have Juice. Your an amazing father. Honestly you take care of me too. I don’t know what I would do without you now.” You told him looking in his brown warm eyes. 

“I would like to stop pretending to play family. I want to be here all the time for Anthony, for you. I don’t want to have to leave. This feels like my home. You both are my home.” Juice admitted his hand coming to rest on your cheek. It was warm to the touch as Juice admitted his feeling to you. 

“Can I take you to dinner friday?” Juice asked only making you laugh. 

“I would love that, now kiss me Juice.” You said pulling your arms around his neck pulling him back to you. His large hands rested on your thighs as your legs locked around him. The kiss was painfully slow, as you both enjoyed the feeling of having the other against them. 

“Maybe Ant could get a little brother or sister.” Juice mumbled into your lips making you laugh. He always knew how to make you laugh no matter what.

[nim-lock]

Art Career Tips, 2021 Edition

Here’s an edited version of my 2019 answered ask, because... this feels relevant. 

It is a problem of capitalism that folks equate their income as a judgement of their value as people; and let me preface. You are worth so much. You have inherent value in this world. Your income is not a judgement on who you are (plenty of billionaires are actively making the world worse). LARPing self-confidence will go a long way to helping you get paid more for your work, because clients will believe that you know what you are doing, and are a professional. 

& real quick—my own background is that I’ve been living off my art since 2018. I went to art school (Pratt Institute). I work in a publishing/educational materials sphere, and a quarter of my income is my shop. Not all of this information may apply to you, so it is up to you to look through everything with a critical eye, and spot pick what is relevant. 

So there are multiple ways of getting income as an artist; 

Working freelance or full-time on projects

Selling your stuff on a shop

Licensing (charging other companies to use your designs)

This post primarily covers the freelance part; if you’re interested in the other bits there is absolutely info out there on the internet. 

IF you are just starting (skip to next section if not applicable) dream big, draw often (practice helps you get better/more efficient), do your best to take "a bad piece” lightly. You’re gonna RNG this shit. At some point your rate of “good” works will get higher. Watch tutorial videos & read books. A base understanding of “the rules”; anatomy, perspective, composition, color helps you know what the rules are to break them. This adds sophistication to your work. One way you can learn this stuff is by doing “studies”—you’re picking apart things from life, or things other people have done, to see what works, and how it works. 

Trying to turn your interests into a viable career means that you are now a SMALL BUSINESS; it really helps to learn some basic marketing, graphic design, figure out how to write polite customer service emails; etc. You can learn some of this by looking it up, or taking skillshare (not sponsored) classes by qualified folks. Eventually some people may get agents to take care of this for them—however, I do recommend y’all get a basic understanding of what it takes to do it on your own, just so you can know if your agent is doing a good job. 

Making sure your portfolio fits the work you want to get

Here is a beginner portfolio post. 

Research the field you’d like to get into. The amount people work, the time commitment, the process of making the thing, the companies & people who work for them. 

Create work that could fit in to the industry you’re breaking into. For example, if you want to do book cover illustration, you draw a bunch of mockup book covers, that can either be stuff you make up, or redesigns of existing books. If you’re not 100% sure what sort of work is needed for the industry, loop back into the portfolios of artists in a similar line of work as whatever you’re interested in, and analyze the things they have in common. If something looks to be a common project (like a sequence of action images for storyboard artists), then it’s probably something useful for the job. 

CLIENTS HIRE BASED ON HOW WELL THEY THINK YOUR WORK FITS WHAT THEY WANT. If they’re hiring for picture books, they’re gonna want to see picture book art in your portfolio, otherwise they may not want to risk hiring you. Doesn’t have to be 100% the project, but stuff similar enough. If you aren’t hired, it doesn’t mean your work is bad, it just wasn’t the right fit for that specific client. 

If you have many interests, make a different section of your portfolio for each!

Making sure you’re relevant 

Have a social media that’s a little more public-facing, and follow people in the career field you’re interested in. Fellow artists, art directors, editors, social media managers; whoever. Post on your own schedule. 

Interact with their posts every so often, in a non-creepy way. 

If you’ve made any contacts, great! Email these artists, art directors, editors, former professors, etc occasional updates on your work to stay in touch AND make sure that they think about you every so often.

Show up to general art events every once in a while! If you keep showing up to ones in your area (when... not dying from a sneeze is a thing), folks will eventually start to remember you. 

Industry events & conferences can be pricey, so attend/save up for what makes sense for you. Industry meetups are important for networking in person! In addition to meeting people with hiring power, you also connect with your peers in the community. Always bring a portfolio & hand out business cards like candy. 

Active job hunting

Apply to job postings online.

If interested in working with specific people at specific companies, you could send an email “I’d love to work with you, here’s my portfolio/relevant experience”, even if they aren’t actively looking for new hires. Be concise, and include a link to your work AND attached images so the person reading the email can get a quick preview before clicking for more. 

Twitter job postings can be pretty underpaid! Get a copy of the Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines to know your rate. I once had a twitter post job listing email me back saying that other illustrators were charging less, and I quote, “primarily because they’re less experienced and looking for their first commission”. This was not okay! For reference, this was a 64-illustration book. The industry rate of a children’s book (~36 pages) is $10k+, and this company’s budget was apparently $1k. For all of it. 

Congrats you got a job! Now what?

Ask for like, 10% more than they initially offer and see if they say yes. If they do, great! If not, and the price is still OK, great! Often company budgets are slightly higher than they first tell you, and if you get this extra secret money, all the better for you. 

Make sure you sign a contract and the terms aren’t terrible (re: GO GET THE  Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines) 

Be pleasant and easy to work with (Think ‘do no harm but take no shit’)

Communicate with them as much as needed! If something’s going to be late, tell them as soon as you know so they aren’t left wondering or worse, reaching out to ask what’s up. 

And if all goes well, they’ll contact you about more jobs down the line, or refer you to other folks who may need an artist, etc. 

Quick note about online shops/licensing and why they’re so good

It’s work that you do once, that you continuously make money off of. Different products do well in different situations (conventions vs. online, and then further, based on how you market/the specific groups you are marketing to), so products that may not do well initially may get a surge later on. 

Start with things that have low minimum order quantity and are relatively cheap to produce, like prints and stickers. 

If you are not breaking even, go back to some of the earlier portions of this and think about how you could tweak things as a small business. Ease of access is also very important with this; for example, if you only take orders through direct messages, that immediately shuts off all customers who don’t like talking to strangers. 

Quick resource that you could look through; it’s the spreadsheet of project organizing that I made a while back 

Licensing is when people pay you for the right to use your work on stuff they need to make, like textbooks or greeting cards. This is generally work you’ve already made that they are paying the right to use for a specified time or limited run of products. This is great because you’ve already done the work. I am not the expert on this. Go find someone else’s info.

“I am not physically capable of working much”/ “I need to pay the bills”

Guess who got a hand injury Sept 2020 that messed me up that entire month! I had a couple jobs going at the time that I was terrified of losing, but they were quite understanding when I told them I needed to heal. So:  Express your needs as early as you know you need them. Also do lots of stretches and rest your hands whenever you feel anything off; this will save your health later. Like, the potential of a couple months of no income was preferable over losing use of my hands for the rest of my life.

This continues to apply if you have any other life situation. Ask for extra time. Ask for clarification. If you tell people ahead of time, folks are often quite understanding. Know how much you are capable of working and do your best not to overdo it. (I am.. bad at this)

Do what MAKES SENSE for your situation. If doing art currently earns you less money than organizing spreadsheets, then do that for now, and whenever you have the energy, break down some of the tips above into actionable tiny chunks, and slowly work at em. 

The original ask I got in 2019 mentioned ‘knowing you’re not good enough yet’. Most artists experience imposter syndrome & self-doubt—the important thing is to do your best, and if anything, attempt to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man. If he can apply to this job/charge hella money for Not Much, then so can you! 

Check out this Art Director tumblr for more advice!

Danichuatico’s Literary Agent guide

Kikidoodle’s Shop Shipping Tutorial

Best of luck!

–

Once again disclaimer this post is just the ramblings of a man procrastinating on other things that need to be done. I’ve Long Posted my own post so that it turns into mush in my brain if I try to read it, but I wrote this so I should know this content. If you got down here, congrats. Here’s a shrimp drawing.

Yee Ha. 

My reference post tag My tip jar

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

A collection of Athelstan headcanons (based only on seasons 1 and 2 because I'm slow) by me

I realize a lot of these are angst or h/c related, what are you going to do, hunt me down?

He's very very afraid of thunderstorms. I've seen this a few other places as well and I feel like it's a relatively accepted headcanon? But yeah, that's a thing. Thunder or even just heavy rain turns him into a jumpy, trembling mess

So that storm at the beginning of the show he was sure meant the rapture was coming? Yeah he was definitely a lot more freaked out than he was letting on

He's ambidextrous. I noticed when fighting he always seems to carry 2 axes with him, one on each side, which could just mean he was taught to fight with both hands, but I like to believe he can use them both equally well to begin with. Also people were really weird about left handedness back in ye olden days so I imagine when he was growing up at the monastery as an acolyte he would have been scolded if he ever used his left hand to write by mistake

Ravenclaw and INTP, that's not even a headcanon it's just true

Has kinda poor eyesight? This is semi legit since staring at tiny print for hours on end will mess up your eyes after a while, from what I know it wasn't uncommon for monks to lose their eyesight after years of doing crazy detailed manuscript work

I've already said this but he gets picked up a LOT. Listen compared to the absolute giants that are pretty much the entire rest of the male characters, he's a shrimp. I can absolutely see a group of very drunk Northmen deciding to play pass the priest and he is very much not impressed

(However, it's also a benefit because if he gets injured on a raid Ragnar can easily just scoop him up and carry him away to safety

((You've imagined that before. Don't try to tell me you haven't imagined that before.))

Contrary to what other characters probably think, he has a pretty good immune system. Probably gets sick very rarely, to the point where people are a little creeped out

However, I can see the few times he does get sick it being very bad, and no one knows what to do because he never gets sick and the very idea is just so foreign

Though he probably has some kind of healing knowledge since monasteries were used for that so if anyone else is sick or injured he'd end up looking after them

(Also related I have this scenario in mind where Ragnar, Lagertha, and both kids all are sick at once and he's the only healthy one in the house so he gets stuck looking after them all and the poor guy runs himself into the ground trying to take care of them)

Still gets nightmares about the monastery being pillaged, even years later. These usually lead to him having pretty shitty days mental health wise, because it drags up a whole bunch of conflicted feelings for him and leaves him genuinely wondering if the people around him are friends or enemies

He's definitely a big introvert and usually totally fine spending time just on his own, but he does get lonely. There are a lot of times where he feels like he doesn't belong anywhere and has no one to really turn to because he's such an outcast, even in his homeland

Animals tend to like him. Probably because he's quiet and doesn't make sudden moves and is generally just...incredibly nonthreatening

Scars in his hands and feet flare up now and again, he hates mentioning it though so usually he just suffers

(These times also usually lead to not-so-great mental health days)

Definitely gets occasional flashbacks to the crucifixion, which are Not Nice. It'll come out of nowhere and suddenly he feels horribly cold and exposed and like he's being watched, and can't move or speak and it's hard to breathe

Ragnar, and Lagertha if she's visiting, have learned to recognize when they happen - Athelstan doesn't realize it but he tends to go white and sort of freezes up, they might not understand exactly what's happening to him but they know it's time to gently lead him away from whatever's going on and let him sit quietly for a few minutes

On a less angsty note, he gets along really well with Helga...which is sometimes an issue because where Helga is Floki usually also is, and I don't think I need to explain any further (@adhdnightmare you put this in my head)

Can sing? I think this is technically canon but yeah, and most of his buddies don't know that but at some point find out he's actually got a really good voice and are like "wait hold on you've been hiding this"

Good cook

His face gets VERY red when he goes out in the cold. I can see his ears turning really red too? On that note he probably gets sunburned easily

Hates the cold. Is Not A Fan of the northern climate and when it's winter he basically spends it completely bundled up in like 16 layers if he can help it

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

01.

it was supposed to be us against the world

It was just a normal Tuesday for you, the scorching sun was out, seeping whatever energy you had for today, class had just ended, and you were treading the thought of having to work later that day. But hey, girl’s gotta fend for herself, right?

Just as you arrived at the station, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Lazily taking it out, your (e/c) eyes scanned the text before shooting wide open, you instantly took off, never minding work, thoughts flying to one thing - Izuku.

For such a prestigious school, it sure had a lousy way of being indiscreet if it were located on top of a hill. Winded from the trip, barely feeling your legs, drenched completely in sweat from the trek, a hero awaited for you at the gate, giving you instructions on how to get to your location (he figured to give it straight to you, judging from your harried breathing and frazzled state alone).

Finding the clinic, you all but burst into the room, eyes easily finding curly green locks. "Izuku!"

Green eyes widened at the sight of you, taking the sight of you. "(Nickname)-!? H-How did you-"

"Are you alright?!"

Flinching at the pitch, tone, and of the overall worry painting your features, he all but gave you a sheepish look whilst rubbing the back of his head. That didn't help, but at least seeing him now in the bed was making your worries lessen.

“He’ll be fine, I’ve treated the worst of his injuries.” The small lady- hero, Recovery Girl, tells you from where she sat. “He just woke up and has made a full recovery now!”

Allowing yourself to sigh in relief, you collapsed by his bed, legs pressed against the cool tiled-floor, eyeing the green-haired boy with narrowed eyes.

"Really, Izuku, you better take better care of yourself."

A scarred hand reached out to pat your shoulder, seeping away the tiredness of practically storming all the way here. "I know, (Nickname). I'm sorry for worrying you..."

Once Recovery Girl assured you that she was to see your best friend fit, you allowed yourself to rest a while before making sure that his recovery was done. You would have loved to wait until he got better, so you can leave, but you had to report to work, even for just a bit then head home to change. Giving your best friend an apologetic look, Izuku nodded in understanding and you reluctantly complied to leave. But not without giving him a parting hug.

“Really, you have to stop giving me a heart attack,” you warned him, teasingly, earning a laugh from the green-haired boy. “I’ll be over for dinner later, okay?”

At that, his eyes brightened. “I’ll be sure to tell mom! She’ll surely be happy to have you over.”

“And I look forward to Auntie’s cooking!”

With one last wave at your best friend, a polite-grateful bow to the school nurse, you turned to the door.

Once out, however, you were face to face with the last person you wanted to see. You ignored him, bent on getting out of here. There was nothing to be said. Absolutely nothing. And it was better off that way.

“Ta-dah!”

“Uwah!!!” big green eyes – matching the shade of his wild curly locks, widened.

“What is it, what is it?” a small blond boy ran towards them excitedly, especially at the excitement at the tone of his two precious friends. “So, what is it?” he asked, head tilted in question at the object in hand.

Grinning toothily, the young girl placed it atop curly locks, flowers intertwined with each other, the green camouflaging with the boy’s locks, as though the flowers sprouted from his hair. “It’s a flower crown, silly!”

“Che, and I was excited for nothing,” the blond boy’s cheeks puffed. Carmine eyes glared at the object on his friend’s hair. “So girly…”

Miffed, the (h/c) girl’s tiny fists balled, stomping her foot. “W-Well duh, because I am a girl!”

“Yeah right!” teased the blond, scratching the underside of his nose, angering the girl as she began to growl.

“Hey, no fighting now…” the small green-haired boy called out to his friends. “…please?”

The two looked at him, then at each other before parting away, the girl’s arms crossed.

“W-Well, if Izuku says so! I’ll forgive you this time, Katsuki!”

Carmine eyes narrowed; cheeks puffed as they reddened to slowly match his eyes. “W-Whatever!”

At that, Izuku smiled, getting to his feet to grab the hands of his best friends. Smiles appearing on his other friend’s faces.

“Ah, by the way!” the (h/c) girl suddenly cried out, alarming the two boys. Heading towards the pile of flowers she was fiddling with earlier, she took something from the ground, keeping her hands behind her as she walked up to the blond boy. “N-Ne, Katsuki, g-give me your hand…”

“…what? No way!”

“Come on, just give me your hand!”

“No way, you might give me a bug!”

“No, I won’t!”

“Then you might just prank me!”

“Didn’t I say that I wouldn’t?”

“How would I know if you’re telling the truth!”

“If you just give me your hand!”

Stuck in between another argument, the green-haired boy could only laugh at their antics.

“K-Katsuki, please?”

She widened her eyes on purpose, pouting purposely to jut out her lower lip, it was all it took for the young blond to cave in. Also, she did say ‘please’.

Reluctantly, stretched out his hand watching as she happily reached for it, her hand now in his. His cheeks reddened, not that he’d say it out loud and chose to frown. “Alright, now close your eyes!” Not wanting to argue, he did as was asked, without putting up a fight. At first, he heard Izuku gasp and she quickly shushed him, almost excitedly, before he felt something slip into his ring finger. “Okay, now open!”

The first thing he saw were (eye color) orbs so big and bright – filled with excitement and joy before his eyes fell unto the object in his hand. The flowers were just as wild and vibrant as Izuku’s, except his was more but fit to wrap around his stubby fingers.

“Wow, (Nickname), it’s so pretty! You’re amazing!”

Chubby cheeks flushed at that, turning to him expectantly. “D-Do you like it?” came her quiet voice.

Silence.

Green and (hair color) heads turned to each other, sharing a look. The taller girl was about to ask again but stopped head tilting. Beside her, the green-haired boy’s mouth formed into an ‘o’, hands slapping against his freckled cheeks.

“K-Katsuki, are you turning-“

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed the boy, messing his hair with his free hand before turning to the girl, a look of determination in his eyes as he pointed, using the hand with the ring flower. “W-W-When we get older, I-I’ll get you the biggest, shiniest, prettiest wedding ring, you hear me!?”

“Kacchan…”

“And Deku!” he turned to the green-haired boy, no longer irked by the flower crown. “You’re going to be my best man, got it?”

Realizing his outburst, the two friends burst into laughter, the blond’s face heating even more.

“Stop laughing at me! Deku! (Name)!”

“Auntie, you didn’t have to prepare so much!” you call out to Auntie Inko, eyes wide like saucers when you saw the meal served at the table.

Meal wasn’t even the word to put it, it was more like a feast! The Midoriya matriarch had prepared spaghetti, karaage, tempura shrimp, grilled eel, salad, and some side dishes. Basically, it was a lot of protein and carbs.

“Nonsense, (Name)-chan! It’s been a while since I last saw you,” she says kindly as you take a seat. “also, this is to celebrate Izuku’s good performance at school, so he can now rest easy for summer break.”

“Thank you so much, mom!” Izuku flusters, especially when she says it so easily in front of their guest as if you’re not used to it.

“Oh, Izuku, still that flustered momma’s boy, huh?”

“(N-Nickame)!”

Laughing, the three of you begin to dig in, exchanging stories about school, your part-time job, some funny customer Auntie Inko had to deal with earlier at the office (she was a government employee), your grandfather, and his dojo. It was always so comforting having dinners with the Midoriyas, always so warm.

Volunteering to help with the dishes, the two youngsters continued to catch up, talking about just about anything. It was always easy to talk with Izuku, always refreshing to be in his presence and hear his thoughts about things.

“Eh? So, you’re classmates with the son of Endeavour?”

“Yes! And his quirk is amazing! He’s half-cold and half-hot.”

“How does that even work?”

“Well, he’s in a constant state of homeostasis to balance out both quirks.”

“Must be hard to manage 24/7 then.”

“That’s true. But with enough practice, he may be able to stabilize both quirks to be able to do more, especially because it can be a double-whammy to villains who might not expect from someone capable of managing two quirks at the same time, there’s also the fact that he can be able to maneuver better should he master his other side…”

The kitchen slowly filled with his ramblings as the last of the dishes were taken care of, which you didn’t seem to mind. It always fun to hear him ramble, knowing that there was a big brain beneath his curly green locks. He was like a walking encyclopedia.

When the clock struck 9, you had announced that you were off, lest you worry your dear grandfather. Izuku volunteered to walk you home.

“Ah, please wait a minute, (Name)-chan!” Aunt Inko shouted when the two of you were at the front entrance, rushing towards you both with a few Tupperware in hand – leftovers from dinner.

“Oh my! Auntie Inko, thank you so much!”

She smiled at you, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Please drop by for dinner more often, (Name)-chan, okay?”

The hand was soft and warm against your cheek, calming your heart with love washing over you. Nodding, silently promising the older woman, you turned to Izuku, who opened the door for you.

“Good night, Auntie Inko!”

Once the two of you reached the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but stare off at the playground – still the same as before, but the paint’s probably new. You could almost picture out three kids running around, chasing each other merrily.

“Man, your mom really didn’t have to put up a feast.”

Laughing, Izuku scratched his cheek as he replied. “Well, she does like to go out whenever she can. Plus, it’s not always (Nickname) comes over for dinner. Also, I’ve been increasing my diet lately because of my quirk.”

Ah, his newly acquired quirk. “Come to think of it, you have been getting bulkier since the last I saw you.”

“Well, I have to compensate mass for all the power I’ve acquired.”

The matter of his quirk piqued your interest, especially because of how much it’s taking a toll on your friend. Instead of backing down, he readily worked his way to accommodate such power.

“True,” you nod, turning to him, realizing he’s grown several inches taller as well, you couldn’t help but giggle. “that and because you’re probably finally hitting puberty.”

“E-Eh!?”

“Dude, you used to be my height!” you tell him, gesturing with your hand your height. “Now, you’re…well, not really that huge, but the growth rate is a bit alarming, to say the least.”

Suddenly, he was sweating bullets, looking between relief and mild panic. “A-Ah…puberty…yes, m-must be th-that a-an-and i-i-it’s side-effects on t-th-the quirk- my quirk!” And there’s his stuttering. Still adorable.

Nudging him with your shoulder, you were quick to assure him. “There, there,” deciding to just sling your arm around his, you leaned on him comfortingly “you’ll always be cry baby Izuku to me!”

“(Nickname)!”

“Or was it wimpy Izuku?”

“(Nickname), please…”

Despite the name-calling, they were all in good fun. A comfortable silence filled in, nothing needed to be said as you two walked around the quiet streets of Musutafu.

For the first time since you were kids, you were apart because you went to different high schools, it hurt because you two were always together and you were each other’s shoulder to lean on. Technology had a great way of bridging you two together, keeping each other up to date on the other’s lives. But nothing beat direct communication with the ones you loved and you relished nothing more than these small moments with your best friend.

“By the way, (Nickname),” Izuku’s voice suddenly cut through the silence. “how is your grandfather? Couldn’t he have dropped by for dinner as well?”

At the mention of your grandfather, you couldn’t help your expression from souring. “Eh, let him be, he’s probably off watching reruns of those tournament matches to prepare. He wants to rough up the team to tough shape.” Despite his age, your grandfather had quite the build and was the martial arts coach at your high school (don’t ask which martial arts specifically, he knows them all).

“That’s true, he might want to challenge me at the front entrance door before dinner started.”

“And your mom would cry a planet at the devastation left between you two.”

It would be quiet the image, knowing how strong both your grandfather and Izuku was, and then Auntie Inko would be comically crying about in the background.

“Oh, and I’ll just watch because no way am I coming between you monsters, while comforting Auntie Inko.”

As the image progressed, the two of you giggled amongst yourselves, the two of you were nearing a lamppost, resting comfortably against his arm, when a presence before you made the two of you stop.

A blond teen came into view, halting at the sight of both of you. Dressed lazily in his home clothes, with a plastic bag filled with items he got from the convenience store.

Instantly, the laughter died out from you, lips set into a thin line.

“K-Kacchan…” stuttered the teen beside you, gulping at the tense air. “…g-good evening.”

Said teen could only blink, carmine eyes taking in the sight of both of you. Something glinted soon after.

Eyes narrowing, you gently tugged at Izuku’s sleeve, continuing your journey, dismissing the blond completely. The two of you walked past the blond, who slowly began to move when you did, starting a new conversation about Izuku’s homeroom teacher, anything to block off that one person who was forever dead to you.

(Blocks away, the blond stopped in his path, hands still balled into fists, glare fixed to the ground, while a gentle laugh coming from a gentle smile relayed in his head. They weren’t for him.

“Fuck.”)

Midoriya Izuku and Bakugo Katsuki were both your childhood friends.

They were both the first friends you made ever since moving into their town.

To be fair though, Bakugo was your first friend. He then introduced you to the green-haired boy a few days later.

Since then, the three of you grew close, were inseparable, and always played together. There was never a day when the three of you were not with the other, always ensuring to include the other whenever there was a new game to play, a new kid to befriend, or an adventure to go off to.

Bakugo had always been the leader of the three since he had such a strong personality and presence even at the age of 5. He was quick to protect the two of you and command whatever new stuff you were to do.

Izuku was his opposite, submissive, soft, and shy. Nonetheless, he had a very strong sense of justice, even when he seemed to cry a lot, and was recklessly impulsive.

And then there was you, the new girl – quiet, unassuming, tomboy. Sometimes, you liked to pretend to be the mom of the two boys, the big sister, the glue that kept you three together – but you and Katsuki knew that it was Izuku, really.

Regardless, you could always count on the two. Bakugo, especially.

He was the front liner to push you to do things you want to do, uncaring of the fact that you were a girl, because it was a minor detail to all the amazing things you could do – like catch a bug, run like the wind, play under the rain, climb trees, give bullies a beating when they were picking on Izuku, play video games, to name a few. (In addition, you were into martial arts, because it was in the family)

It was because you were so close to Bakugo that you picked up on cursing, much to the shock of dear Izuku’s innocent baby ears. You couldn’t help being a tomboy because of the fact that your best friends were guys and games the blond would instigate, you loved to challenge him in just about anything – especially at claiming to be Izuku’s bestest friend.

Still, whenever you fell or scraped your knee, it was Bakugo who’d lend a hand, angrily berate you on being reckless, before picking you from the ground or giving you a piggyback – Izuku would cry all the way, worried about your state and the possible scolding from your parents and grandfather.

You three were supposed to stick together, stay inseparable, always with each other.

That is until Bakugo discovered his quirk, followed by Izuku discovering that he was quirkless.

And ever since then, everything changed.

masterlist • two

[ackerslut]

I’m bad at prompts but would love to see varian n Hugo talking abt. More serious things.. opening up tew eachother..angsty fluff

(MARTIE SAID ANGSTY FLUFF HERE U GO BOO <3)

ao3

It’s not like Varian to seek out Hugo.

Despite his initial decision to trust the lanky blond, Varian had his misgivings that were further solidified into annoyances as the other alchemist turned his smarmy act up a few notches into the irritating territory. Hardly a day could go by without Varian being shown up or talked down to by the guy--and always in the most condescending tone.

Today had, in fact, been one of those days--for the most part. Varian had been translating a rune-key to get into the magically sealed temple where Nuru’s next lead was and Hugo had sauntered right in, translated it in under ten minutes, and smugly lead the way in.

Varian kind of wanted to strangle him.

Through the power of Nuru’s glaring at him and Yong’s enthusiastic ramblings distracting him, Varian manges to not kill the latest addition to their group, but it’s only just.

They trek through the winding, stone corridors of the temple ruins, Varian taking notes and Yong excitedly chattering away to Nuru. But as the halls stretch on and don’t come to an end, Varian starts to think that maybe this particular lead was a bust.

Then, it’s too quiet.

Varian turns, about to ask Yong if he’s alright--the child’s murmurings had cut off abruptly mid-sentence--when he realizes that…

Nuru, Hugo and Yong are gone.

_____

Of course they weren’t really gone, Varian realizes lately--way later, after Hugo drags him out of the depths of the inky-black nightmare he was lost in. Nuru, patting his back as he coughs and dry heaves in the bright, afternoon light, quietly explains that the place had a curse on it.

“Nightmare cavern,” Yong says, the only one of them who had been unaffected and, subsequently, the person to get Nuru out who was then able to help Hugo break free.

And then Varian, because of course he was the one deepest in.

“If it makes you feel any better, Nuru started crying when I woke her up,” Yong offers, when Varian finally stops choking.

Nuru shoots him a glare. “Shut up.”

Yong holds his hands up defensively.

Varian tunes them out as the argument escalates. His mind is still focused on the nightmarish horrors he’d be subjected to back there.

Re-subjected to.

Hugo spends the rest of the day being very tentative to Varian. In turn, Varian doesn’t really know how to respond. His mildly antagonist relationship with the blond has him in a place where he doesn’t know how to respond to the sudden kindness.

Hence, why Varian is out in the middle of the night looking for Hugo, who hasn’t been seen since supper.

After wandering around the mostly quiet town for the better part of an hour, he finds the blond, sitting on a slanted rooftop above the town’s apothecary. With a sigh, Varian clumsy climbs up the side of the building, finding his footing in loose bricks and the uneven trimming on the side. It’s nowhere near as graceful as he’d like, considering he almost brains his head on the side of the roof before he even gets on it.

“Hey,” Varian says, once he’s safe on top. He carefully picks his way across the slanted roofing to where Hugo is reclining, arms folded under his head. He glances up in surprise when he hears Varian, eyes unreadable.

“Hey.” His voice is unusually gruff.

Varian settles beside him, stomach dropping when he glances over the edge. Varian’s not one to be nervous around heights, but they are really high up and he doesn’t exactly trust Hugo to catch him.

Maybe.

Hugo had gotten him out of--wherever the hell that place had taken him to. No matter his feelings toward the guy’s general attitude or how much of an arrogant dick he can be, Varian has to give him that.

He could have very easily left him there. But he didn’t, which raises Varian’s opinion of him by a fraction.

A breeze shifts through the town, cutting straight through Varian and his thin jacket. He shivers, wrapping his arms around himself tightly.

It’s a clear autumn night. They’re far enough away from the big cities that Varian can make out the stars, for once. The sky looks different than in Corona--further implementing the realization just how far from home they are.

Well, Varian at least. He’s still not exactly sure where Hugo’s home is. If he has a home.

Something sour settles in the pit of his stomach at the thought.

“Nice view,” he says, instead of voicing any of his many thoughts.

Hugo hums, giving Varian a side-long glance. There’s something heavy in his eyes. “I guess,” is all he says, noncommittally.

Varian picks at one of his nails. “The constellations are different here than at home.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm-hmm. See that one?” Varian points to a cluster of four stars that don’t quite form a straight line. “Should be curved. In Corona at least,” he adds. He doesn’t ask what the constellations look like where Hugo’s from.

Hugo wouldn’t tell him anyway, he’s pretty sure.

The blond isn’t looking where Varian pointed, however. His eyes are firmly glued to the side of Varian’s head. Varian doesn’t want to meet that gaze for some reason, which is ridiculous, right? He, after all, followed Hugo all the way up here, initiated a mindless conversation that Hugo clearly didn’t want to have.

Varian drops his head back against the rooftop and tries not to sigh.

Then,

“Do any of the constellations look the same?” Hugo asks, softly.

Varian bites his lip. “That one does,” he says, pointing to the string of stars in the shape of a shrimp that Eugene crudely dubbed erecticous constellationous. Hugo doesn’t need to know that though. “And, that one,” he adds, pointing to the stars that form a familiar shape. Only a few stars in them were out of alignment, but it was close enough that Varian could pick it out. “The golden flower.”

Hugo glances up at the constellation. “Is there a story behind it?”

“Probably,” Varian shrugs. “Rapunzel never got around to telling me, though, and my dad wasn’t really one for stories. Just knowing how to find the north star.”

“Well, make one up then,” Hugo says. Varian can hear the grin in his voice and rolls his eyes.

“I’m not making up a story about a flower, Hugo.”

“Why, not manly enough for you?”

Varian considers pushing him off the roof for a moment. “No, just enough stories about magic golden flowers for one lifetime,” he says, before thinking better of it.

Hugo lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Get those often?”

“You have no idea.”

A pause, as Hugo waits. “You aren’t going to tell me.”

Varian considers it. “I don’t think you’d believe me,” he says, honestly.

Hugo knocks his shoulder into Varian’s. “Try me, Goggles.”

Varian huffs, sitting up slightly and drawing his legs up to his chest. He wraps his arms around them and drops his chin onto his knees. “You ever hear the story of the sundrop?”

“Something of it,” Hugo says casually. “Magic sun spit falls from the sky, infects flower, somehow gets transferred to magic princess. Coronian story, if I’m right.”

“Yep. Would you believe me if I told you it was real?”

“Varian, we just walked through a hall of mirrors that trapped us in our worst fears. Yong has sentient firecrackers and you can create every kind of cure known to man through the power of science” There’s a pause. “Yeah, I think I can believe that’s real.”

Varian snorts. “Yeah okay. I do really know the-” he wrinkles his nose, “-magic princess.”

“Was she pretty?” Hugo grins.

“She is my sister, thank you very much,” Varian sniffs, not really linking the idea of Hugo being attracted to Rapunzel in any sense. That would be weird, but Varian can’t really pin his finger on why.

Hugo blinks in surprise. “Wait, really? I thought you were like,” he gestures vaguely with one hand, “an only child. You have those vibes.”

Varian has many things to say to that, but he refrains. “Yeah, well, not all family is through blood,” he settles on, instead of picking a fight.

Hugo twitches, something unpleasant darkening in his gaze. He turns his gaze back to the sky. “Can I ask you something?” he asks, after a few seconds of silence.

“Just did,” Varian instantly replies, earning a light snort from his blond companion.

“Varian.”

“Yeah, yeah, ask away.”

“What happened to you out there?” Hugo says, unknowingly asking the one question Varian has been trying to avoid all evening.

Varian’s heart sinks, his good mood plummeting below the rooftop. He shuts his eyes. “Like you said, hall of mirrors with bad memories.”

“Yeah.” Hugo’s voice is soft. And closer. Varian can feel his shoulder and thigh pressing into his own. “Yeah, I just-you didn’t look so good when you came out.”

Varian lets his legs drop over the edge of the roof as he flops onto his back. The stars stare down at him silently. It’s a familiar view--one that he saw many times through the tiny window in his prison cell.

It’s not exactly comforting most of the time.

Varian throws an arm over his eyes. Huffs loudly into the quiet night. “My dad died when I was fourteen,” he says.

He feels Hugo still next to him.

Varian drops his arm. The moon, phased into a sliver tonight, seems to grin down at him. “It was my fault,” Varian goes on, eyes glued to the white splinter in the sky, “and we-we fixed it, he’s fine now. But. Yeah.”

His eyes cut to Hugo.

Hugo is staring down at him. His eyes are wide and filled with an unreadable emotion. He visibly swallows, eyes darting between Varian’s.

“It wasn’t a great time for me.”

Hugo exhales. Lies down flat against the roof, shoulder to shoulder with Varian. “I don’t remember my dad,” he says, quietly.

Varian stays very still, intensely aware that whatever’s happening right now is not likely to happen again.

“I remember my mom though,” he continues. Varian glances at him, his profile only visible in the dim light. Varian can’t tell what expression he’s wearing, can only guess through the intonation of his voice. “She used to sing to me, I think. And she had brown eyes.”

Varian shifts closer. His head is almost on Hugo’s shoulder. Almost.

“My mom was an alchemist,” Varian says, like it isn’t obvious.

“Yeah, I kinda figured that one, blue eyes,” Hugo says, rolling his green ones. “Do you remember her?”

Varian shakes his head. “No, I was too little when she--yeah.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them lie there in silence.

“Hey, Hugo,” Varian says. The warmth emanating from the other boy is both comforting and anxiety inducing. He’s still trying to pinpoint why, but can’t come up with a conclusive answer.

“Hmm?” the other boy tilts his head in Varian’s direction.

Varian could easily get lost in the brilliant green eyes.

“Thanks for getting me out,” he says, instead of something like your eyes are pretty or I want to touch your hair.

Hugo’s face does something complicated. “Yeah, well. Nuru would have killed me if I left you there.” A pause. “Besides,” he mutters, “you would have done the same for me.”

Accurate assessment, Varian ruefully agrees. Hugo might annoy the ever living shit out of him, but he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the other boy out of danger.

“Still,” he says.

“Well. You’re welcome then,” Hugo says awkwardly, looking anywhere but Varian. If he didn’t know any better, Varian would say Hugo looks a bit guilty, but he can’t figure out why for the life of him.

There’s a pause that’s far too charged that has Varian very aware of how closely they’re pressed together.

“Tell me more about the stars,” Hugo blurts out, just as the silence becomes too much.

The twisting in Varian’s chest releases. “Well, that one’s the cat’s eye,” he says, pointing out a triangle of stars directly above him.

Hugo’s eyes follow where his finger is pointing. As Varian continues to point at various stars and constellations, the tension between the two evaporates. But with Hugo’s warm breath puffing almost against Varian’s ear and the sound of his laughter when he says something particularly witty, the strange fluttering in Varian’s stomach gets worse.

He ignores it.

It probably means nothing.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER TWO: FRIENDSHIP

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 2839 Rating: T - racism, references to the plot of Bad Samaritan, mild language A/N: I’m trying to balance covering a lot of time so that this doesn’t end up 20 chapters of the same thing and I never get to canon events and also getting some good, specific moments in, so hopefully this works...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Time passed. You found yourself settling into a surprisingly easy friendship with Derek, though not one without it’s frustrations, and certainly not one that looked like friendship at all from the outside looking in. On more than one occasion, Sean had poked fun at each of you, though never in front of the other so they were aware, calling you out for flirting and playing hard to get. 

You hated him for being right and refused to admit that it was what you were doing. Your stupid schoolgirl crush on your cousin’s best friend wasn’t something you wanted to acknowledge.

~

Nino’s had been abuzz for weeks with the news that the restaurant had been booked out for a re-election campaign event for the mayor of Portland, and now that the night had arrived, excitement had turned to panic. Nino had fretted constantly about every detail, from the amount of food and wine available to their arrangements on the plates. He had forgone setting up a buffet table for the cocktail and hor d'oeuvres hour in favor of what he thought was the much more high-end system of servers circulating with trays. And now two of the servers had, at the last minute, called in sick. 

“There are not enough people!” Nino was exclaiming. “But I cannot set out a table now! We would have to rearrange the whole room!”

You had only just arrived, stepping into the chaos from the street like passing through an invisible barrier. One that at least part of you wanted to turn around and cross back over again. 

“You need servers more than valets tonight, why not ask those two boys to help?” one of the kitchen staff suggested.

“That’s really not how their contract works,” you muttered, even though you knew it didn’t really matter in the end.

Nino looked thoughtful and turned to you. “Do you think they’d do it?”

Sean and Derek weren’t even there yet, and wouldn’t be until almost opening, so it would be a gamble, unless Nino could get them to pick up the phone. Plus they didn’t have appropriate service uniforms to your knowledge. Which meant that Nino had to either change everyone’s outfits or hope he had spares somewhere in the restaurant. Not to mention, there was no guarantee they’d even be willing, and since they were hired as valets (technically Nino’s had an account with their business, but since it was the only one so far and they didn’t really seem to be actively searching for more, he may as well have hired them directly), they weren’t obligated to do anything other than park and retrieve cars.

You sighed. The only problem with working with family was that you were expected to be able to know Sean’s thoughts on things, as if you were some kind of mind reader or expert.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “But they both have a lot of respect for you, so it can’t hurt to ask.” 

That was a lie. It could hurt. Saying no would make things awkward, saying yes would cost them a night of tips and...extracurriculars which you chose to actively not acknowledge. But the latter was probably best, since pulling their usual tricks on the mayor, his donors, and his powerful friends would be asking to get caught and spend the rest of their lives in prison.

“Great!” Nino hurried off to the phone as if you had said they would help without a doubt.

~

“Where is your tie?” Nino asked, gesturing, appalled, at Derek’s bare collar. “I told them to find you a tie. You’re not dressed properly. I can’t let you be seen like that!”

The whole staff was gathered around in the lobby for some sort of pep-talk/debrief and assignments before the doors opened for the big event. Nino was checking every detail like a hawk, jittery with nerves. The kitchen guys were anxious, not sure why they’d been dragged from their stations to the front of house, acting like a crowd of kids that got called to the principal’s office. Everyone else was casual, mostly gossiping over who they thought would be there, hoping for a political scandal to break before their eyes. 

Derek held up a length of black silk. “You got any of them clip-on kind? I’ve never worn one before, so I don’t know what I’m doin.”

Nino sputtered. You rolled your eyes, stepping up beside him.

“I’ll take care of this, Nino,” you offered, gesturing at Derek’s entire self, and he had the nerve to look offended.

He nodded, turning away in a hurry, radiating nervous energy, looking for the next crisis. Finding none, he started in on his speech about how tonight was the most important night in the restaurant’s history, how he was proud to have such a dedicated staff. Then he dismissed everyone, listing off assignments as they scattered. You half listened, turning to deal with the problem of Derek’s tie. 

“Hey, thanks,” Derek said quietly, offering you a half smile.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you answered. “Nino’s a better boss than most are ever lucky enough to have. It’d be a damn shame for him to drop of an aneurysm because you don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“Sure,” he chuckled. “Well I guess that means I’m in your hands.”

You smirked at the idea, ignoring Sean’s waggled eyebrow out of your peripheral. Derek noticed, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“You’ve seriously never worn a tie before?” you asked, taking the garment from him.

“No. Why would I? I don’t exactly get invited to the kind of places you need one.”

“Right…” you sighed, stepping closer, throwing the material over your shoulder to free your hands. “Step one is fully close your dress shirt.”

Your fingers darted nimbly, closing the tiny white buttons, ghosting over his throat and making him swallow nervously. 

You continued to describe each step as you took it, looping the tie around his neck, trying to teach him what to do. But he couldn’t focus on your words, not with you standing so close that he could feel the heat radiating between your bodies. 

“And voila. Tie tied. And if someone really wanted to, you have an easy way of killing you around your neck for fashion,” you joked, brushing the fabric smooth. Your hand lingered against his chest for a moment, for reasons you couldn’t explain, before you stepped back.

Silence hung in the air.

“So I’m all set then?” he asked finally, blinking as if coming out of a daze.

“You’ve got to button your vest too, but I assume you can figure that one out for yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled, beaming at you. “I’ll give it a try.”

You laughed along with him, trying not to think about how handsome he looked, dressed up like this. Not that he wasn’t handsome all the time, even in baggy jeans and a hoodie, but the formal black and white uniform suited him. You frowned, annoyed with yourself for letting your thoughts stray down that path. 

He finished buttoning the garment and spread his arms, gesturing to himself. “How do I look? Pretty good right?”

“Not bad,” you said with a smirk and an effort to keep your voice casual. “Someone nicer might even say you clean up good.”

Suddenly his arm was around your shoulders and he leaned in to your side with a charming smirk of his own.

“Maybe they would, but you know I’ll take a ‘not bad’ from you over that any day,” he said with a laugh.

Before you could respond, he sauntered off, leaving you to glare and gape at his retreating back.

~

Derek couldn’t help himself. He was supposed to be walking around the room with this tray of shrimp puffs - or whatever rich people food Nino had assigned him, he was pretty sure it was shrimp puffs - and offering them to the guests. Instead, he was just standing in one spot, tray held out absently and teetering every time someone brushed past him, watching Y/N. She wove effortlessly through the clusters of men in pressed suits and women in silk dresses that rustled when they moved, smiling easily at them as she offered them champagne or wine. Even from a distance he could see the sparkle in her eye that made each person she spoke to feel like they were special, and as a result scored her numerous ones and fives left behind on her tray when they picked up a glass. His fingers itched to brush aside the piece of her hair that escaped its updo and danced across her temple, tucking it back into place behind her ear. 

He felt a quick flash of guilt as he traced the shape of her body in her uniform, the black vest hugging every line and curve. He shouldn’t be staring, he thought. After all, she was Sean’s cousin and Sean was his best friend. And she was a friend, these days; you don't ogle your friends. But damn if she wasn’t hot, if he didn’t want her. His mind wandered, and he was just starting to imagine what her lips on his might feel like, what she might taste like - she had smelled like apple pie earlier when she was standing so close to him, when he’d been too chicken to make a move while he had the chance, and part of him hoped kissing her would taste like it too - when fingers, covered in too many rings and jingling from the stack of bracelets on the attached wrist, snapped in front of his face, startling him and dragging him back to reality.

“Are you even listening to me?” the woman demanded before raising her voice and slowing her words, over-enunciating each syllable. “I said I want your vegetarian option.”

“Uh. All I got are these shrimp things,” said lamely. “But my buddy Sean is around here with some mushrooms, I think. With like spinach stuff inside?” 

She huffed, glaring and waiting and not saying anything. 

“I'm sorry. I'm not—” 

“Very intelligent. I can tell. I want you to bring me a plate with vegetarian appetizers. That means no meat. Nothing that was alive. And I want a selection, not just dumping all the same thing in a pile.” 

As her voice got louder and her words even slower, it started drawing stares from the rest of the guests. He bristled at her tone, feeling his neck get hot as embarrassment and anger mingled. He knew why she was speaking to him like that. She wasn't the first.

He took a slow, deep breath. Getting angry would just play into her hand and make things worse. Before he could say anything, like maybe some remark about how plants used to be alive too, they just never had faces, Y/N appeared at his elbow.

“Derek! There you are, I've been looking everywhere,” she exclaimed.

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what she was up to, and tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach at the idea she’d been looking for him.

“Nino said there was a problem, with the...thing and unless we want the guests to just be eating tiny hors d'oeuvres all night, you have to go talk the chef down from quitting over it.”

“What?” his face scrunched in confusion as he turned to Y/N.

She rolled her eyes (he kind of loved how often she did that) and plucked the tray out of his hand smoothly, fingers brushing briefly against his, sparking under his skin like a hotwiring a car. 

“The thing. In the kitchen,” she said pointedly, like it meant anything. Then she turned to the woman, the largest, fakest smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Right...I’ll uh...get right on that…” he said helplessly. 

“Sorry about that ma’am,” she lied to the woman, voice sickly sweet as she led the woman off. “He’s a culinary genius, but Nino likes to shake things up and keep the staff on their toes.”

“Oh,” the woman said, seeming surprised by the shift. “I just assumed...because he was one of them.”

“One of who?” Y/N asked, feigning confusion now though he could see that her eyes were hard and ice cold. Her smile took on a knife-sharp edge and he found himself grateful that it wasn’t being turned on him.

“Well. You know…”

“I’m sure I don’t. Because I can only think of one thing you might be trying to say. And I know you wouldn’t be so blatantly racist,” her voice got just a little louder, pitched toward the people around them, not the woman she was talking to, “at an important event like this. Would you?”

Derek chuckled and tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants, making his way to the kitchen. It might have been a fake reason, but he figured he may as well take the few minutes break it gave him anyway.

~

“Hey,” you said, dropping into a chair next to Derek, finally catching a short rest while the guests transitioned from one part of the evening to the next and found their seats for speeches and dinner. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah,” he said quickly, pretending that he had just been zoned out in order to cover for the fact that he was staring, again. “Just exhausted. Is this what it’s like for you every day?”

You chuckled. “It’s not usually quite this intense when we just have a few tables each to focus on. I think serving tables in a bit will be a better idea of that. But I meant about...you know...earlier.”

He made a face of confusion.

“The hag with the cheap perfume and the stupid attitude?” you offered.

“Oh that,” he shrugged. “I’m used to it. She was pretty tame, compared to some.”

“You know that’s the opposite of reassuring right? And not really an answer to the question.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Probably for the best. She’s probably a senator or their wife or something, and something tells me bitchslapping a public figure is a negative on the Character and Fitness review.” 

You scratched the back of your head in a(n adorably) sheepish gesture.

“The what?”

“The thing where I spend all this time on a degree, and in the end it all comes down to one insane bullshit test and a review of my personal history. And a bunch of stuffy old men, and women these days, decide if I’m an acceptable fit for the esteemed legal profession.”

“Legal...I didn’t know you were trying to be a lawyer?!”

“Duh,” you rolled your eyes and dropped your voice. “Why do you think I keep telling you and Sean not to get caught yet. I’m useless to you for another year, at least.”

“You didn’t have to step in like that,” he said after a long pause. “I could have handled it.”

“I didn’t think you couldn’t.”

“Then why’d you get involved?”

“Just because you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should have to,” you shrugged. “I could tell you were uncomfortable. I thought I could help.” 

You let your thoughts race. Had you done something wrong in trying to divert the conversation and give him an out? Did you accidentally make things worse? Was there something else you should have done instead?

“I’m not mad,” he said reassuringly, noticing the nearly panicked expression that danced across your face. “I just don’t usually get people doing that for me.”

“Well, what else are friends for?”

There was the at word again, he thought. The thing he didn’t want to destroy, but that stood unnavigable between you. He didn’t know what he was doing. This was new territory for him. It didn’t help that the line was blurry. What was real flirting and what was joking? Sometimes you made him feel more confident than ever, and then seconds later you left him drowning, insecure and flustered. Maybe this was the moment to ask, you had left the door cracked open just enough for an opportunity.

Sean caught his attention, waving him over. He realized with a start that they hadn’t talked all night, for the first time in a long time. The door clicked shut, another chance lost. 

He turned to say something, and you waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a wink and a smile that made his heart flip. “I’m not interested in monopolizing your time. Besides, if I start now, I can probably pop in a quick 10 minute nap before we have to start running the first course.”

He watched you settle further, crossing your arms over your chest and close your eyes, either to continue the joke or to actually do what you said and shook his head fondly, before sauntering off to join Sean on the other side of the room.

[bunnyywritings]

just hear me out

Tsukishima kei x fem!reader

𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 - 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥

[a/n: here’s pt. 2 of hollow words and misunderstandings, I hope ya’ll are enjoying! Sorry if this one is short...I tried my best but I would definitely appreciate some feedback and suggestions if you have ‘em, part 3 is coming soon ♡ well without further adieu, enjoy! -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ps. salty boy Tsukki might be a bit out of character in this one but I tried to make it as cannon as possible]

recap:

“You really are something, chibi-chan.”

Back inside the gym, Hinata was ranting about  his teammate.”I don’t understand how he could be so dense.”

“You’re one to talk.” Kageyama snickered, although it went completely over his head. “But I guess he realized that he was rude and went to apologize.”

Kuroo froze. “He what?”

“He went to apologize.” Hinata repeated.

“When?”

“What’s wrong?” Bokuto cocked an eyebrow at his friends abrupt worry.

“Uhh a few minutes ago, I think. He went right around the corner. Why?”

Kuroo groaned and slapped his forehead. “He probably saw it.”

“Saw what?” Lev asked as he absentmindedly tossed the ball from hand to hand.

“I kissed (y/n).”

“YOU WHAT?!”

Kuroo sighed and buried his face in his hands. “Yeah, we uh kissed. It was completely an accident.”

“How do you kiss someone on accident?” Hinata’s eyes widened.

“We just-” Kuroo groaned in frustration, because he honestly didn’t know either. “It just happened. We both agreed instantly that it meant absolutely nothing. It-it was a mistake.” Everyone was surprised to see the usually confident captain panic. 

The next couple of days were rough. Training camp was coming to an end and the team could feel the tension between you and Tsukishima. The only people who knew were Kageyama and Hinata, since they had been there. Yamaguchi knew because...well cause he’s Yamaguchi. Why wouldn’t he? But of course, Hinata being the big mouth he is, he told the rest of the team. Daichi immediately scolded him for talking about other people’s personal problems. It couldn’t be helped. The entirety of the Karasuno vbc knew, except for Ukai and Takeda but they both figured it out by the way the two of you had been interacting during training as of late. Once it was time for individual training, you had desperately hoped that you wouldn’t be paired with Tsukishima. His words hurt and they hit deep.

“(Y/n) go ahead and work with Hinata and Tsukishima on their blocking please. They seem to be lacking today.”

“O-Of course, Coach Ukai.” You wanted to cry. Why?

“Asahi-senpai! Do you think you could help us out with some of those awesome spikes?” You called over to the third year. He blushed at your praise and agreed.

“I’ll help too!~” Sugarawa called out as he jogged along the ace.

“Thank you Suga-senpai!”

Tsukishima grimaced. Were you teasing him by calling to the upperclassmen like that? Or was he just being ridiculous? He remembered when you had jokingly called him ‘senpai’ in a sickeningly cute tone a couple of times just to get a reaction from him. It worked. It made him blush. He’d die before letting you see him like that though, always turning his head to avoid looking in your beautiful eyes.

“Alright Hinata! You first.” You gestured for him get ready. He did. He got low, ready to launch himself. Sugarawa set the ball, Asahi spiked and Hinata’s fingers barely grazing the ball. You ran forward and squatted down, doing a bump receive and letting the ball fly up before catching it in your hands.

“That was close. Good job!” You praised, giving him a high five.”The only thing I would tell you is, don’t be afraid. There’s a ton of space between you and the back row. Step back and get a running start or swing your arms back to get that good jump in.”

“Right!” Tsukishima rolled his eyes at the determined grin that had appeared on Hinata’s lips.

“You’re up, Tsukishima.” You instructed timidly. He said nothing as he switched places with HInata.

Set. Spike. Block. He got a good one-touch but he wasn’t satisfied.

“That was good!” He clenched his teeth as his heartbeat started to increase. Why did you have to flash him that beaming smile? After what he did to you? “My one recommendation though, launch yourself from the balls of your feet. Like this.” You motioned for Sugarawa to serve. He watched as you squatted down, your toned thighs peeking from your shorts. The way you pushed upward and launched from the balls of your feet just like you instructed him. The curve of your back captivating as you flicked your wrists out and successfully blocked the spike. “You got that?” He snapped out of his trance and turned away.

“Tch, whatever.”

You scoffed, a muttered ‘Are you kidding me?’ left your lips.

“What’s wrong, chibi-chan?” Kuroo’s nickname for you rolled off his tongue venomously. “Are you not having a good time? I know you’d rather be lip locked with your boyfriend but this is what you signed up for.” He sneered. Causing you and everyone around you to freeze up.

“What? I-I don’t have-”

“Don’t play coy. I saw you with captain rooster head that night.” He cut you off.

“He’s not my boyfriend but-but why would you care?” You scowled, slightly confused.

“Because if you’re bored, then you should just go.”

Again, everyone was caught off guard. Watching all of this go down, not knowing whether to keep watching or at least attempt to look busy while eavesdropping.

“Do you really not want me here?” You asked in a small voice, your eyes were downcast but he could tell you were tearing up. His silence was enough. “Fine. But just so you know, I didn’t sign up to help stuck up snobs like you.” You laughed bitterly. “To think that I like a jerk like you, I-...” A choked sob left your throat before he was staring at your back and watching you leave in tears again for the second time this week. All because of him.

“A-Alright everyone! Stop gawking and head to the dining room. It’s time for dinner!” Coach Ukai called with a clap of his hands. As everyone filed out, Tsukishima bit his lip harshly and look down at the polished floors, fist clenched so tight that he shook. A hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see Coach Ukai and Takeda.

“You didn’t mean that, did you?” Takeda asked quietly, a knowing tone in his voice that irked the tall blonde.

“...no.” he rasped out, he himself was also close to tears. Self-loathing had filled his entire body.

“Then go talk to her kid. I’m sure you can talk it out, she’s pretty understanding.” Ukai gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

“And patient. Especially since she deals with all of you.” Takeda added softly.

“Yeah, I know.” And with that, he went after you. It’s not like you went far. He found you under the shade of a tree. It seemed twisted but he thought that you still looked pretty. Even with tears in your eyes, the skin around your eyes and on your nose tinged pink from rubbing at them, even with the remnants of snot that had leaked out of your nose. You were beautiful but he quickly remembered why you were crying.

You watched as he approached and silently sat beside you. The summer breeze licking at your skin as you both sat in silence.

“I know you probably don’t even want to be near me right now but please, just hear me out. I-” but he was cut off.

“You confuse me, Kei.” His breathing hitched at the soft sound of his name leaving your lips. “First you flirt with me, you tease me, and then you turn around and insult me.” You finally turned to look at him. “Do you really hate me that much? Was this all a game? Am I a joke to you?”

“N-no.”

“Then what is it?” you demanded desperately.

“I...I hate how you make me feel.” You frowned. “I have feelings for you and it scares me.” He grit his teeth. He was never this open about how he felt. “I always convince myself that-that you’re too good for me. I don’t deserve your time. Especially after what I said to you.”

You were stunned silent. You didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth.

“I was going to apologize but then I saw you and Kuroo...”

“So you didn’t mean those things that you said?”

“No. I’d hate if you left the club. Especially if it was my fault.”

Your heart fluttered just a tiny bit. “Just to clear things up. I don’t like Kuroo, not like that anyways. I still very much have feelings for you.” You confessed. You finally met his eyes. Those damn shimmering pools of honey.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I regret what I said.”

“Thank you, Kei. I forgive you.” Oh how you wanted to kiss him.

“Then go ahead and do it, shrimp.” Shit. Did I just say that out loud?

“My, my. What a dirty mouth.” He smirked.

“I- ack!” You were pulled over to him, basically straddling his hips. “Kei! W-What are you doing?!” You panicked at his bold actions. He was a blunt guy but this was a bit much.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.” His voice was low, he was so close to you. His breath lightly fanning over your face. You blushed but didn’t say no. He was leaned back and resting against one hand, the other one lightly gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss. Your hands were gripping the collar of his t-shirt as your lips meshed like two missing puzzle pieces. It was sweet but passionate. He was putting all the feelings he couldn’t verbally formulate into it. Desperately trying to convey how he felt. You smiled against his lips. This was what you wanted all along. Him.

Hesitantly, you both pulled away. The hand that was at the back of your neck was now cupping your jaw. Thumb grazing over your pink, blushy cheek.

“I uhm wow. Can we-can we do that again?” You stuttered.

“Are you seriously asking?” 

So there you were, sitting under the shade of the tree and enjoying the summer breeze. Lips locked, behind you the sun was bidding its farewell. Tinges of pinks and oranges painted the sky. It felt so unreal. Like you were both protagonists of a cheesy coming of age film. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You jolted awake, Yachi shaking your shoulders. “It’s time to wake up, (y/n).” she spoke softly.

“What time is it?” You spoke, voice groggy and movements sluggish as you sat up.

“6:30. Breakfast is in a half hour.”

“Thanks Yachi.” She hummed with a nod of her head and walked out. Some of the other managers were still asleep. Slowly, as you got up, your mind began to race. Was that really all a dream? It felt so real...

With a gloomy mood, you showered and changed into black shorts.You grabbed the pullover that was draped over your duffel bag and slipped it on. Pausing at how big it was. Sure you had ordered yours a size larger since sweaters were always comfier a size larger but this was at least 2xs larger than your normal size. Then you remembered.

The evening had gotten colder quickly, and you were basically shivering.

“Here. So you don’t freeze to death or whatever.” Tsukishima held out his ics pullover, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“You’re such a tsundere, Kei.” You teased, snatching he sweater from his grip and quickly pulling it on.

A squeak of excitement left your lips. So it wasn’t a dream. You really did kiss him. Pulling on your knee brace and shoes, you made your way to the dining hall. A little pep in your step. Something that definitely didn’t go unnoticed. Especially not with Detective Sugarawa on the case.

He watched as you basically skipped into the line, a soft smile gracing your lips as you grabbed your breakfast and sat with Kiyoko and Yachi.

“Hmm, (y/n) seems to be in a good mood.” Daichi noticed. They had all been worried about you. They even had to go as far as talking Kiyoko from beating some sense into Tsukishima for making you cry.

“I think she’s wearing Tsukishima’s sweater.” At Suga’s words, they all subtly glanced in your direction. The sweater was definitely not yours.

What confirmed it though, was when Tsukishima and Yamaguchi passed by the table you were at. While Yachi and Kiyoko were distracted with greeting some of the other managers that had joined, Tsukishima placed a carton of strawberry milk and a wrapped rice ball onto your tray. The three nosy third years had their jaws on the ground. They were not expecting that at all. You were a flustered mess. The same couldn’t be said about him, he was completely composed as he sat down to eat. Glancing your way every so often, a barely noticeable blush burning his cheeks when he saw you happily sipping at the beverage he had gotten you. He couldn’t believe it. You were finally his.

taglist: @ewwis

[coldwind-shiningstars]

ok ok prompts!!! so, I would be Delighted by some more qinxiyao family fic (deleted scenes or things you might have wanted to include in the big bang fic but didn't get to?), or, alternately, anything in the modern tcgf au? anything at all; they're all so excellent <3

both of these are such excellent prompts I started working on both of them, but the modern au got finished first! I’ll probably both a) do a lot of edits on this and b) do the qinxiyao family fic in a week or so, but here this is for now. Also, for those not in James and my brains, this is a very small part of a very large AU! Small note, all characters appearing in this fic are trans; however, He Xuan is still very much an egg and so they are referred to throughout the fic as “he/him,” although SQX at least is aware of this and wondering when to bring it up with her. She is, however, unaware that “Ming Yi” is a stolen identity and He Xuan is actually the eco-terrorist who’s been blowing up her brother’s fish hatcheries. It’s a long story. 

If Xie Lian was being honest, he didn't much like the internet. It was so bright and everything moved too fast. People used a bewildering array of slang and images. It was surprisingly difficult to avoid spending hours reading upsetting news stories. People spent days arguing about pornography. 

Also, his phone didn't really connect to WiFi very well. Even by the loosest definitions of the word, he hardly counted as a netizen.

People were usually shocked when he told them this, though, because Xie Lian's best friend was one of China's most popular beauty influencers.

Xie Lian's face appeared on her Weibo with some regularity. She talked about him often. He'd gone viral three separate times on Douyin, entirely accidentally. 

What Shi Qingxuan was most famous for, however, was makeup tutorials. He had never actually appeared in one of these, but, since there were very few people in the world capable of saying no to a very determined Shi Qingxuan, this was about to change. He was used to being in her charmingly decorated little apartment but not quite used to becoming a decorated thing himself. He'd even put on one of the outfits Hua Cheng had designed and sewn for him, based on some of his old dance costumes and a few frantic weeks of historical research, and kept swishing the skirts around his legs.

Shi Qingxuan started setting up, chattering away to Xie Lian as she did. "You need anything before we start? Bathroom, water, a snack? I edit my videos pretty heavily, so we can always take a break, but it’s good to be comfy." 

"No, I'm fine," Xie Lian said, and then had to close his eyes when she clicked on the ring light.

He fiddled with the makeup compacts laid out on the table.

Shi Qingxuan adjusted her light, scootched Xie Lian’s chair a little to the left and a little back, and then fiddled with the camera. It was quite the involved operation, Xie Lian thought; he knew a lot went into making videos, but he hadn’t realized it took this much effort before the camera was even on. Shi Qingxuan had done his makeup before, of course, but mostly just for fun, or something she could take a picture of and post on Weibo. It had been so long since he'd been filmed.

He watched Shi Qingxuan press record on her camera and then sit back and flash it a smile, putting on her Influencer Face. She squeezed his hand under the table.

“Hi everyone, welcome to Feng Shi!” she said, chirpy. “I’m Shi Qingxuan, and today we’re doing xianxia makeup with my good friend, Xie Lian. Now, for this look, we’re going to need…”

When Xie Lian was little, the makeup artists for his dance troupe had known he took about twice as long as anyone else did to get his makeup done. He was the darling of the company, though, so this was tolerated with fondness.

He didn't like the way the foundation felt on his face when it dried. His eyes watered when they put on eyeliner. He liked to spin his chair from side to side. 

He'd had much worse things on his face than paint since then, and had learned how to be still.

Shi Qingxuan patted his hand cheerfully as she pulled out the setting powder. 

"You're always one of my favorite models," she said. "You're so photogenic and so patient!"

"Thank you," Xie Lian said, and held still while she brushed it in his face.

Ruoye, probably noticing the warmth, slithered out of Xie Lian's robes and curled up on top of his head so she could get the full blast of heat from the ring light. She flickered out her tongue to scent Shi Qingxuan when she leaned in with a liquid eyeliner pen.

Shi Qingxuan made little kissy sounds at her, which only confirmed Xie Lian's certainty that he had good taste in friends. Most people were startled by Ruoye originally, but how they responded to her after Xie Lian introduced them was a good litmus test.

Ruoye settled in, and Xie Lian reached up a finger to stroke her scales. 

He was feeling good, content and warm, happy to sit still. Then the apartment door clicked open, and Xie Lian stiffened.

"Ming-xiong? Is that you?" Shi Qingxuan called.

Ming Yi mumbled something back and shuffled into the room, buried deep in his black hoodie. As always, Xie Lian's first thought upon seeing him was wondering how he could see through all that hair.

The hoodie had a fish skeleton painted on it that he recognized instantly as one of Hua Cheng's drawings; it made Xie Lian smile, thinking of how insistent San Lang was that they absolutely weren't friends, no way, there was no particular reason he would make custom hoodies for Ming Yi. The fish were a coincidence. He’d even made Ming Yi custom salmon breakup boots while proclaiming it meant nothing. 

Xie Lian, wearing an elaborate hanfu Hua Cheng had designed, sewn, and embroidered himself, even making him a period-appropriate duduo to flatten his chest, absolutely did not buy any of these excuses. Hua Cheng covered people he cared about with his art. 

Ming Yi grunted a greeting and wandered off, probably to raid the fridge. Shi Qingxuan winked at Xie Lian.

“I’ll edit most of this out,” she said, conspiratorial, “But my viewers love Ming-xiong. Especially when he’s out of focus in the background. They’ve made memes. I haven’t told them anything about him. It’s good to keep a little mystery! It keeps people watching.”

Xie Lian, having no real idea what she was talking about, smiled and suppressed his instinct to nod. Shi Qingxuan began painting a flower on his forehead with red pigment.

Finally, Shi Qingxuan gently removed Ruoye from Xie Lian’s head and shoulders and settled a wig cap over his hair, then the wig she’d pre-prepared. A few bobby pins, a few tucks, and then she stepped back, grinning.

“Ta-dah! How do you like it, taizi dianxia?”

“It’s beautiful,” Xie Lian said, honestly.

“We’ll end the video here, I think,” she said, “But I’ll get some posed photos of you to edit in here if that’s alright. Oh, tilt your head back and forth a little? Good. Smile at the camera!”

Shi Qingxuan fluttered her fingers at the camera in a wave; Xie Lian waved too, a few seconds later. As she leaned forward to click off the camera he straightened his legs out to try and loosen them up. His knees made terrible crunching sounds as they stretched. 

“You can take a little break if you want,” Shi Qingxuan said. “I’ll set up the area where we’ll take photos, but I’ll try to make it quick. You’re a darling for sitting through all this, you know?"

She was already bustling around again. She seemed to have an endless fountain of energy; Xie Lian found it admirable. He laid flat on his back on her bed, careful to not get makeup on her sheets or wrinkle his clothes. Ming Yi sat next to him, eating shrimp chips. He put a few directly into Xie Lian's mouth, feeding him like a little bird, and Xie Lian felt warm. Like Hua Cheng, it could be hard to know when Ming Yi liked you, but there were ways to tell.

He let Shi Qingxuan pose him until she was satisfied with the numbers of pictures she’d taken, trying very hard not to feel like the chuunibyou teenager he’d once been. He felt himself mostly immune to embarrassment at this point, but he supposed there were always exceptions.

Eventually, they cleaned up, although Xie Lian had promised Hua Cheng to show off the full look, so he didn’t get changed or clean his face. 

“I’ll buy dinner,” Shi Qingxuan said. “We deserve it. You too, Ming-xiong!”

She herded them both out of the apartment and down the street to a small noodles stall. They all ordered (in He Xuan’s case, three bowls) and Xie Lian was fumbling for his phone when he heard Shi Qingxuan cheerfully tell the clerk to put it all on the same ticket. She tapped her phone to pay for it all before Xie Lian could protest.

A few people asked Xie Lian for pictures as they ate. He posed obligingly, hoping he hadn't spilled any sauce on his clothes while eating. When he was done, he packed up his leftovers, let Shi Qingxuan nag him into calling a Didi instead of trying to walk home, and bid both her and Ming Yi farewell. Ruoye, who had spent most of the time they were eating in Xie Lian's backpack, made a brief appearance too like she wanted to say goodbye as well.

Xie Lian clicked his own apartment door closed quietly and tiptoed over to slide his leftovers into the refrigerator. Down the hall, a light shone out from underneath Hua Cheng's studio door.

There was an old picture of the two of them on the fridge; it was them in a hospital pediatric ward group room. Xie Lian, age fifteen, was beaming at the camera, his "FIGHT! JUVENILE SLE" shirt a bright red and his pants an immaculate white. Next to him, Hua Cheng, his right eye patched with patterned tape, bald and tiny, stared up at him with devotion. 

Ruoye bonked her head gently on the freezer door. Xie Lian pulled out one of her mice and slid her gently into her tank before giving her the treat; she was swallowing the mouse as he left the kitchen.

Hua Cheng turned to him as Xie Lian opened the door to his studio. His eye got wide, and his face looked like it did sometimes when he looked at Xie Lian, like he was seeing something holy. He slid his headphones off his ears.

Xie Lian did a little twirl for him, letting him see the way the fabric moved, and then tilted his face up for a kiss when Hua Cheng came over to him.

“Gege, you look beautiful,” he said.

“San Lang,” said Xie Lian. “It’s all you and Qingxuan. I’ll get her to send you the pictures later.”

Hua Cheng kissed the top of his head. He was dressed down, in a soft shirt and pants, not wearing his prosthetic eye. Xie Lian leaned his head into Hua Cheng’s chest.

“Gege seems tired,” Hua Cheng said. “Would you like to get ready for bed? Do you need dinner or your medicine? I can help you take all that off.”

“San Lang, you’re working,” Xie Lian said. “I already ate, so I think I’d like to sleep. But you don’t have to help.”

"Gege is more important than commissions," Hua Cheng said, and Xie Lian let him bundle him off to bed.

post about prompts! 

[tricktster]

I'm pretty new at aquariums and I don't have a c02 system set up and I don't think my petco was even selling it? Am I doing something wrong? If so, where can I get one???? I don't want to hurt my fish!

GREAT NEWS: YOU ARE NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG AND YOU ARE NOT HURTING YOUR FISH. 

Sorry this is going to be long but I love nerding out. 

I probably should have just explained this when I posted the picture of my setup, but carbon dioxide injection is fully not necessary for the VAST majority of tanks, because it is specifically not there to help the fish at all - it’s for plants.

The fact of the matter is that it’s super hard to get those beautiful, lush planted tanks like this:

 ...without supplementing carbon dioxide. The same rules apply for aquarium plants as terrestrial plants: they covert light, water and carbon dioxide into chemical energy through photosynthesis, and then use that chemical energy and nutrients to fuel their growth, creating oxygen as a byproduct. The tricky thing is that there just isn’t a ton of carbon dioxide available underwater. Obviously, plants manage to grow underwater all the time, since some co2 will diffuse through the water when the surface is agitated (like if there’s a current, or waves, or a waterfall etc), and as long as there’s adequate sunlight and nutrients, that can be enough for plants to grow. In fact, there are plenty of aquarium plants that do just fine without co2 supplementation, like java ferns or most mosses. You can basically just chuck them in the tank and forget about them. They’ll take care of themselves.

The reason that java ferns and mosses don’t need supplemental co2 is that they have evolved to be able to grow - slowly - in places where there isn’t a lot of sunlight or carbon dioxide that reaches them. However, other plants (like dwarf hairgrass or dwarf baby tears) evolved in conditions that permitted them to grow -quickly - only with a lot of light and a great deal of available carbon dioxide. I mention hairgrass and dwarf baby tears because they’re some of the most popular plants in the aquarium hobby due to their ability to form dense carpets, which are pretty:

(dwarf hairgrass)

(dwarf baby tears)

These plants are also really popular because they’re small and resemble common terrestrial plants, which allows people to create visual illusions that make their tanks seem much bigger and more like terrestrial landscapes, like this one made by John Pini:

(notice the co2 system hanging on the side, which is almost certainly not the actual setup that he uses on this tank - Fluval sponsored the aquascaping contest he won with this). It looks like this tank has pheonix moss, maybe one of the liverwort mosses??, monte carlo (the small leafed plants), and some type of mini bucephalandra (the slightly larger leafed plants), which will actually all grow... okay? without supplemented co2, but not with the density that’s captured here. For reference, here’s the same piece of monte carlo that’s been kicking around in my low tech (i.e. no co2) shrimp tank for months (in front of the Plagiomnium affine my snails keep digging up):

and here is what happened to the single piece of leftover Monte Carlo that I stuck in Darkmantle’s high tech (co2 injected) tank at the same time, if you can make it out under all that hairgrass: 

So explosive plant growth is really the big benefit in injecting co2 in a planted aquarium, with a major side-benefit of algae control. When algae shows up in your tank, it’s because there is either too much light or too many nutrients (generally this is biological waste from livestock) in the tank for your plants to be able to use. If the plants aren’t using that excess growing energy up because they’re limited by the amount of carbon dioxide in the water, algae, which has much lower requirements for co2 than complex multicellular structures like plants, will happily take advantage of the excess light and nutrients. But if your balance of light, co2, and nutrients are correct, algae can’t get a foothold because your plants will be taking all that available energy first.  

For people who want to try out running a high tech tank, there’s a variety of  ways to do it. On a very basic level, all you need is 1) a source of carbon dioxide, and 2, a way to get it into the water. At the very lowest price point, there’s DIY systems like this one that rely on chemical interactions (usually citric acid and baking soda or sometimes yeast) to generate CO2, which is then forced through airline tubing into a diffuser (usually a ceramic disk that breaks up big bubbles of co2 into lots of little bubbles) inside the tank.  There’s a few problems with this system: the chemical reactions are really hard to keep going at a stable level that doesn’t result in huge spikes in the amount of co2 being emitted, or, alternatively, the pressure building up in the bottles won’t be enough to actually go through the airline. 

Because DIY co2 is finicky (and cleaning can be a pain in the ass) a lot of people, including me, like using pressurized co2 systems. The problem is that there’s not a ton of commercial products that are really adequate for the job that don’t cost a ridiculous amount. While you can certainly drop $600 on a professional system, most people, for obvious reasons, don’t want to do that. Instead, they might try out a system like the little kit Fluval sells, which I mentioned almost certainly was not used in creating that award winning aquascape: 

Why do I feel so confident that it wasn’t used? Well, because it kind of sucks. See, an important thing that I didn’t mention is that there is absolutely such a thing as too much co2 in a tank with any animals in it. Animals, you know, need oxygen. Co2 is their output product. Put too much co2 in a tank, and it’ll be exactly the same result as if there is too much co2 and not enough oxygen in a sealed environment that you’re in: death promptly ensues. So when we add co2 to an aquarium, we want to do so in a very measured way that permits the plants to get enough without impacting our livestock at all. There’s a bunch of different things you can use to make sure you’re doing that right, like drop checkers, which contain a chemical that changes color based on the amount of co2 in the water, or bubble counters, which allow you to visually monitor how much of an invisible gas is going into the tank, but the most important thing to stress here is that the amount of co2 that is safe to use when the plants are actively photosynthesizing is NOT the same amount that is safe to have in the tank when the lights are off. Here, the knob on that little kit depicted above is the ONLY way to turn the co2 on or off, or to vary how much is going into the tank, and frankly, that’s a terrible system. The rate of release is not steady, so you have to constantly fiddle with it, and of course you need to remember to manually turn the damn thing on and off every day, which is a pain in the ass. Also, that co2 canister is TINY and it’s not refillable, so you’ll spend hundreds in replacement cartridges before you know it. 

The 600 dollar professional kits I’ve mentioned have built in ways to counter those issues, but like I said, nobody wants to drop 600 bucks. The good thing is that you can cobble something together that does the same exact thing as a professional system for a fraction of the cost. All you need is 1. a regulator with a solenoid; and 2. a refillable paintball co2 tank. The regulator is the most important piece of equipment - it’s what allows you to adjust the amount of co2 that goes into the system, and it needs to be reliable. Luckily, there are some GREAT regulators on Amazon in the 60-70 dollar range that are incredibly reliable and come with a solenoid - that’s a magnetic valve that is ONLY open when it’s plugged in. The upshot is that if you use a timer plug or a smart plug, you can just automate when your co2 runs so that it’s only going at the same time as your lights. Then... just go to a sporting goods store, get your paintball tank filled, screw the regulator on, run some tubing into a cheap ceramic diffuser in your tank, and boom, you’ve saved 500 bucks for an extremely effective and easy to use kit that gives you professional results. 

Or... you can just not be like me, save yourself the time, money, and energy, and JUST GROW FUCKING JAVA FERNS INSTEAD, TST, YOU PRETENTIOUS ASSHOLE. 

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Big Damn Heroes

A Supernatural / Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover! 

Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas, Charlie, Buffy, Willow, Spike, Xander, Giles, Anya, Faith

Word Count: ~4930

Warnings: Flirting, play-fighting... it’s sexy but not smutty. 75% banter, 20% geeky references. (No, seriously, SO MANY. If anyone can spot all the easter eggs/quotes from Supernatural, the Whedonverse, and beyond, I’ll give you a cookie.) 

A/N: For @impala-dreamer​ and @deanwanddamons​, and the I Do Understand That Reference Challenge! I’ve been wanting to write a SPN/BtVS crossover since I first started watching Supernatural; I’ve been imagining some of these character interactions for a while. Thanks for giving me an excuse to finally do it! 

Major thanks to @stunudo​ and @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for the reading and cheerleading. This was the most excited I’ve been about writing in a hot minute and I was so happy that you guys were excited to read it. 

This bears very little resemblance to either show’s canon/timeline. No Dawn, no Tara. Just go with it. 

“Okay, stand super still for me?” Charlie asks apprehensively. She twiddles a few knobs on the gadget she’d built, and a little fan of laser beams shoots out one end. She points it at Dean, who grimaces and shields his junk protectively as the lights sweep up and down his body. 

Sam rubs at the tension headache that’s developing between his eyes. “You sure about this?” 

“No?” Charlie says, voice squeaking slightly, and Sam’s headache throbs again. “But… I think so. It should work. I don’t think you understand how ridiculously complicated this whole thing is.” 

“You are bringing their alternate selves here from an entirely different universe,” Cas says skeptically, arms crossed as he looks critically at the scene. “There are a lot of variables at work.” 

Charlie points the device at Sam and scans him as she nods firmly. “Yes. Thank you. What Cas said. What’s the worst that can happen, right?” 

Sam raises his eyebrows and sees Dean and Cas making near-identical expressions of disbelief. 

“Right. Probably not a good thing to ask around here, huh? You guys are like the living embodiment of Murphy’s Law. I don’t think I’m gonna, like, blow anything up though, so that’s something!” Charlie cuts off her own nervous babbling and takes a deep breath. “Well, here goes nothing.” 

Sam's ears start to ring, and he feels a tug somewhere in his chest. The bunker fuzzes and fades around them. 

The last thing Sam hears is Cas saying flatly, “Well that can’t be good.” 

***

Dean’s drawing his gun before the room even comes into focus, fighting a dizzying surge of nausea. He looks around wildly, turning to scan his surroundings. There’s a redhead in an eye-poppingly colorful sweater sitting on the couch, looking at him open-mouthed; a cute, tiny blonde at her side; a cozy, utterly suburban living room; and most importantly, a total lack of Sam, as far as he can see, and that’s a problem. 

“Whoa, hey, take it easy,” the blonde says sharply. “Drop the gun.” She’s standing, coming toward him with her hands raised, and she’s clearly not a threat, but Dean’s not letting his guard down yet. He eases his finger off the safety but keeps it pointed at her. 

“Where’s my brother?” Dean snaps. 

“You just Apparated into the middle of my house, buddy, how ‘bout I ask the questions?” she says, unfazed. Which. Fair. Dean lowers the gun slightly. 

The second he starts to relax, the blonde is whipping around like a goddamn ninja and kicking the gun out of his hand. She settles back into a fighting stance, looking way more serious than anyone wearing sparkly lip gloss has any right to look. Dean’s so stunned he doesn’t even try to fight back; he stares for a second, torn between the urge to pull his other gun out of the back of his pants, just to make a point, and the urge to propose on the spot, because wow. 

“Um, hi, answers now?” the redhead says, still sitting on the couch, staring incredulously. 

Dean takes a deep breath. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m pretty sure this was a fuckup of gigantic proportions. Where am I? Who are you? How did you…” 

“Sunnydale, Buffy, and mystical forces-of-evil-fighting Slayer powers,” she rattles off, with a little smile at the look of astonishment on his face. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” 

“Buffy?” Dean says, smirking, and she raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s really not the part most people fixate on,” she says bemusedly. There’s a phone ringing somewhere in the next room, and Buffy shouts without taking her eyes off Dean: “Xander? Would you get that?” 

“I’m not most people.” 

***

“Yes, quite. We’ll be right over,” Giles says, and he hangs up before turning back to Sam with a long-suffering expression. “Your brother is safe and sound. I’ll take you to him and we can try to sort this mess out.” 

Sam lets out a long sigh of relief, following Giles to the door. He looks down at his phone again as Giles locks up, but it still displays “no signal.” Sam frowns. 

“Where are we?” he asks. 

“Sunnydale, California.” Giles leads the way to a tiny European car. Sam has to fold up like a pretzel to get in the passenger seat. 

He watches out the window as Giles drives, frowning to himself as he tries to figure out why they’re here of all places. He’d been so busy with the whole Apparition thing that he didn’t question Giles’s initial reaction to a stranger materializing in the middle of his living room, but his expression had definitely been more resigned and exasperated than astonished, like maybe this sort of thing happened to him a little too often. 

“Is there such a thing as magic in this world?” Sam says, with a sneaking suspicion that he already knows the answer. “Or… ghosts? Demons?” 

Giles blinks a few times. “Magic, yes. Demons, quite. Ghosts… not that I’m aware of, but stranger things have happened on a Hellmouth, I’m sure.” 

“A what?” 

“Hellmouth. Sunnydale sits on top of a literal gate to hell, and as such, there is a convergence of mystical energy here. It tends to draw monsters and… well, general disaster.” Giles sounds like he’s repeated this little speech a few times before. 

“Averted any apocalypses lately?” Sam asks wryly, and that does get him a very polite, British expression of surprise. 

“Well, yes. A few, as a matter of fact. Buffy does stay busy.” 

“Buffy?” 

“Yes, the friend I called when you arrived. The Slayer. Do they have one of those in whatever world you’re from?” 

“In my world, Slayer is a band,” Sam says with a shrug. “So… you’ve never heard of me? Or my brother? Dean Winchester?” 

Giles gives him a skeptical sideways look. “Should I have?” 

“I think I have a theory.” 

“It’s not bunnies.” 

“What?” 

“Never mind. Go on.” 

***

“This is where you live?” Dean asks, looking around at the big windows and unlocked door. “Are there protective spells or anything, at least?” 

“No. And thus, the neverending construction,” Xander says mournfully, nodding toward an unfinished window frame. 

Dean’s still processing how normal it is. They’re all sitting around in the incredibly ordinary living room on comfortably mismatched couches, and the coffee table in front of him has a copy of Cosmo on it, for fuck’s sake. He’s never met a hunter of any kind who’d be reading about “Why Wet Kisses Make Men Horny.” 

He looks up hopefully when he hears the door, but it’s not Sam; there’s a bleach-blonde guy coming in, shaking off the ratty blanket he’d been wearing like a cape. 

“Oh, great, you’re back,” Willow grumbles. 

Buffy gives him a look that’s borderline murderous, which would be about as threatening as a newborn kitten if Dean didn’t know what she’s capable of. “Why, exactly, are you back?” 

“Bored. Not much to do in a crypt.” The guy shrugs, looking Dean up and down with an appraising gleam in his eye. “Who’s the pretty boy?” 

Dean’s still processing “crypt.” Before he can decide how he feels about the flirtatious tone, Buffy answers for him: “Spike, this is Dean. Dean, this is Spike. Spike, you can fuck right off now. Dean, you want a glass of water or something? Sorry, all the alternate universe talk made me forget my manners.” 

“Got anything stronger?” 

“If by stronger you mean orange juice?” Buffy offers apologetically, but Spike pulls a flask out of the inside of his long coat and passes it to Dean with a smug half-smile. Then he makes himself at home in one of the armchairs, raising an eyebrow at Buffy as if to make it extra clear that he has no plans to “fuck right off” any time soon. 

“Cheers,” Dean says gratefully. 

Spike winks at him, obvious and shameless, and drawls, “You just let me know if you need anything else.” 

Buffy’s got her arms crossed, glaring daggers at Spike, and Dean can tell there’s something going on there, but he can’t really resist flashing his most charming grin in Spike’s direction.  

The front door opens again, and Dean breathes a long sigh of relief when he sees Sam. 

***

“What makes you think there’s a version of you in this universe, anyway?” Willow asks, and everybody pauses to think about that one for a second. “I mean, if there are all these different worlds, why are you guys the heroes in every single one?” 

“Bit bloody full of yourselves,” Spike says. There’s no reason for that sentence to sound as suggestive as it does, but that seems to be his default tone. Sam tries not to notice the way Spike’s staring at his brother. Not like Dean is aware of it; he’s too busy staring at Buffy. 

“There’s a world with nothing but shrimp,” Xander chips in unhelpfully. Sam shakes his head like that might clear his ears. 

“Chuck said -” Dean starts, and Sam cuts him off with a gesture before anyone can ask who “Chuck” is. That seems like a surefire way to derail this barely-coherent conversation, and Sam wants to figure out how to get the hell home. 

“It’s not a bad point,” he says. “So if Charlie programmed the thing -” Willow opens her mouth like she really wants to interrupt, but Sam plows on, “- to bring us from a world that didn’t have an us, maybe that’s what made it glitch. It couldn’t bring anyone to us, so it brought us here instead.” 

“But why would it drop you with us?” Buffy asks. 

“You guys seem to be the ones who deal with the apocalypses around here,” Dean says, shrugging. 

“We are the local experts at the saving people and the hunting things,” Buffy agrees. 

Spike smirks. “Big damn heroes, is what we are.” 

Buffy shoots him a withering glare. “You are not included in this.” 

“But why split us up?” Sam muses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His headache has not improved in the slightest. When he looks up, Dean’s eyes are darting between Sam and Giles, who has his glasses off and is pinching his own nose in the exact same spot. 

“Wow, Sammy,” Dean says, an infuriating grin spreading over his face. 

“What?”  

Dean turns to Buffy. “So this whole Slayer thing. Kind of a birthright? Destiny?” 

She shrugs. “I guess so. There was this whole group of old British guys with sticks up their asses, but... ” 

Sam rolls his eyes, starting to see where Dean’s heading with this, and asks Buffy, “Ever died, by any chance?” 

“Twice, actually,” she replies, without batting an eye. She looks back and forth between them. “Wait, have either of you -” 

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Dean says ruefully. “Sacrificed yourself to save someone, I’m guessing?” 

“That’s me, self-sacrificey girl,” Buffy says, matter-of-fact and borderline chipper. “Kind of my specialty. That and the quipping.” 

“Let me guess, you handle the research,” Sam says to Giles. 

“Well, yes, I suppose. Although I’m not exactly helpless in a fight. I do know a bit of magic as well.”  

Sam buries his face in his hands for a second. 

“So when the program couldn’t find a match for either of us, it sent us to… someone as much like us as it could find,” Dean says. 

Willow jumps in quickly. “What sort of computer -” 

“What was that about shrimp?” Dean asks at the same time. Everybody starts talking at once, and Sam sighs heavily. He almost rubs his forehead again, but he stops himself when he notices Giles doing the same thing.

***

Dean’s trying to explain the whole Chuck situation when he sees the distortion in the middle of the room, and he trails off in the middle of the sentence, watching anxiously as Charlie blurs in and out a few times before solidifying in front of them. 

“Okay, weird,” she blurts out, looking around wide-eyed and overwhelmed. 

“Holy fuck am I glad to see you,” Dean says fervently. 

“Right back atcha,” Charlie says. “Somebody want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

“Ooh, are you the one who beamed them up?” Willow asks excitedly. “Actually… you look weirdly familiar, have we met before?” 

Charlie blinks at her a few times, a smile spreading across her face, and shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Pretty sure I’d remember you.” 

“This is Charlie, she’s our resident computer genius,” Dean says, and they make the rounds of introductions yet again. 

Charlie gives everyone an awkward little wave. “Charlie. Um. I like LARPing, pretty women, and long walks on the beach.” 

Dean doesn’t miss the way Willow perks up at that, and he bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his laughter. 

“Hey, where’s Cas?” Charlie asks, finally tearing her eyes away from Willow long enough to look around the room, as if Cas might’ve hid behind the bookshelf when he arrived. 

Dean’s stomach sinks. “He came with you?”

“Yeah, we -” Charlie starts, but she’s interrupted by the door opening, and much to Dean’s relief, Cas is walking through it next to a frazzled-looking girl. 

“I’m hoping one of you can explain why this man materialized in my car?” the girl asks irritably. “As if parallel parking wasn’t hard enough without surprises.” 

“Hi to you too, Anya,” Buffy chirps. “Glad everybody could join us for what was supposed to be my relaxing day of solitude.” 

“I’m not a man, exactly,” Cas interjects. 

Anya tilts her head to the side inquisitively, glancing very blatantly down at Cas’s crotch for a second, and Dean snorts. 

“Would it be rude if I asked -” Anya starts. 

Giles answers before she can finish: “Yes, it undoubtedly would be.” 

“I’m an angel,” Cas says nonchalantly. 

“Judging by everyone’s faces, Anya’s not an angel, then?” Sam asks, looking between the two of them. 

“Only that one time, for Xander’s birthday,” Anya volunteers, and Xander splutters an incoherent protest. “But that was a sexy angel, not a real angel. I don’t think we have those here.”  

“She used to be a revenge demon,” Buffy explains. 

“Used to be?” Cas asks. 

“Oh, I’m human now,” Anya reassures him.

Spike adds, “Not that you’d know it, talking to her.” 

“Considering how primitive and strange humans are considered to be by most of the known universe, I wouldn’t say that’s a bad thing,” Cas says mildly. “Some of your customs are utterly incomprehensible to an outsider.” 

“That’s what I keep saying!” Anya exclaims. “I mean, how am I supposed to know exactly which reproductive habits are acceptable for public discussion?” 

“They do have some very arbitrary rules about appropriate behavior,” Cas says. Dean notices Sam and Giles rubbing their foreheads in tandem again. 

***

By the time they finish asking all their questions and comparing apocalypses, Sam’s actually kind of having fun, but he knows it’s time to get back to work. 

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks Dean, during the next lull in the conversation. Dean looks more than a little put out as he sneaks a glance at Buffy, but he shrugs. 

“Probably should. Charlie? Hey, Earth to Charlie.” 

Charlie looks pretty dazed as she turns to face them. “Hmm?” 

“We should probably get home,” Sam says apologetically. 

Charlie’s face falls. “Really?” 

Dean gives her a sympathetic look. “Worlds to save, and stuff. Still need to find a way to warn all those other Sams and Deans. Sorry, kiddo.” 

“Maybe you can come back sometime, if you… y’know, survive the apocalypse?” Willow says, with a hopeful smile. Charlie grins at her. 

“We also have places to be,” Anya says cheerfully. “Very important things to do.” 

“Subtle,” Xander mutters. They wave their goodbyes and head for the door, followed by a somewhat sulky-looking Spike. Then again, that might just be Spike’s face; Sam can’t really tell. 

Cas, Charlie, Sam, and Dean huddle in the middle of the living room, and Charlie says resignedly, “Strap yourselves in, I’m gonna make the jump to lightspeed.” 

“You don’t have to scan us again, do you?” Dean asks, eyeing the gadget with some mistrust. 

“Nope. We’re all saved in the system. Ready?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Dean says, with one last half-smile in Buffy’s direction. Charlie hits the button. 

Nothing happens. Charlie frowns and hits it again. 

“Charlie?” Sam says hesitantly. 

“No, obviously that’s not supposed to be happening,” she retorts. She fiddles with a couple knobs. “I think I know what it is, though. There are all sorts of parameters for, like, which Earth you’re coming from and which Earth you’re going to, and I think the weird glitchy thingy might’ve scrambled the algorithm.” 

Dean leans in to look. “Did you try hitting it?” 

“It’s quantum physics, Dean, you can’t just keymash until it works,” Charlie says, rolling her eyes and holding it away from him. “Unless you want to be stuck in shrimp-world or something.” 

“How long do you think it’ll take to fix it?” Sam asks. 

Charlie shrugs. “Could be a couple hours, could be a day or two.” 

“I could help you,” Willow offers. Charlie looks like Christmas came early. 

“You guys are welcome to stay, it’s no biggie,” Buffy offers. “Not like you’re the strangest thing that’s ended up in my living room.” 

“I’m flattered,” Dean says with a grin. 

Sam sighs, but he can think of worse worlds to be in for a day or two. At least they’re not surrounded by shrimp. 

***

“So this is what you do every night?” Dean asks, as Buffy hops the fence with zero visible effort. He might have actual hearts in his eyes. 

“Pretty much,” she says cheerfully. Dean follows her. He does okay, even if he doesn’t stick the landing like a Russian gymnast. 

Sam had stayed home, after some silent pleading in eyebrow-speak, so it’s just the two of them, and it’s nice, for a graveyard. There’s something about the idea of “patrolling” that Dean likes. He imagines coming here night after night, recognizing the mausoleums, getting familiar with all the paths. It sounds stable.

“Do you like it?” Dean asks. “The whole Slayer thing.” 

Buffy wrinkles her nose adorably at him. “I’m not sure like is the word I’d choose. What else would I do, though? Not like I could just walk away from it. I tried, once. The weird follows me wherever I go.” 

“Sorry, if you don’t want me to follow you any more I can just…” 

She laughs at that. Dean feels butterflies in his stomach, like he’s just a middle schooler with a crush. It’s been a minute since he put actual effort into flirting with somebody, beyond the easy one-liners. Dean fiddles with the stake she gave him, twirling it in his fingers, trying to keep an eye on his surroundings instead of just staring at Buffy. 

“Sometimes I wonder,” she says softly. “Y’know? Like, why me?” 

“You’re basically a superhero,” Dean says. She can probably tell how hard he’s geeking out about it. “That’s what heroes do.” 

“It’s not just that, though! Like… I was bored out of my mind trying to be normal.” 

Dean laughs. “Normal was a disaster.” 

“So even if the weird wasn’t following me, I’d go find the monsters myself. Who does that?” 

“Crazy people,” Dean agrees. “I can’t imagine doing anything else, though. Never gonna have a normal job, never gonna have a normal relationship, and yet.” 

“So you’re not - there’s no relationship?” she asks, exaggeratedly casual.  

“Nah.” Dean tries to hide his grin, and then he asks cautiously, “What’s up with you and Spike?” 

She stops dead, mouth open, staring at him. “Wait. Oh god. Please don’t tell me Faith is already running her mouth, I told her -” 

“No, it’s cool, I just… guessed, earlier,” Dean says sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I don’t think anybody else noticed.” 

Buffy makes a face and rolls her eyes, and they start walking again. “It’s complicated, the… thing with Spike. It’s definitely not a relationship though.” She stresses that last bit, and Dean really shouldn’t feel relieved, at that, but he does. 

“Isn’t it always complicated?” 

Buffy sighs. “There’s the whole undead creature of the night thing, for starters, which. Oddly enough, seems to be a type for me?” 

“Yeah?” 

Something must show on his face, because Buffy frowns. “Oh, Jesus, don’t tell me you’re some sort of demon too.” 

“Would that help my chances?” Dean asks wryly. “Cause I kinda used to be.” 

She stares for a second. “You’re joking, right?” 

“Really not.” 

There’s a moment where she’s clearly deciding whether she wants to go there, but then a familiar voice rings out behind them and interrupts: “Thought you were heading home, pretty boy.” 

Dean turns, grinning in spite of himself. “Change of plans.”  

“Lucky us,” Spike drawls. “Mind if I join you for a walk, pet?” 

“No,” Dean answers, just as Buffy lets out a resigned, “Kinda.”  

Spike catches up to them and slings an arm around Dean’s waist, pulling him against his side. Buffy lets out a huff, but she’s laughing too. 

“Are you really trying to make me jealous?” she asks Spike.  

“Is it working?” 

Dean disentangles himself and looks back and forth between the two of them. “Yeah, this is obviously healthy.” 

Buffy laughs, but Spike just retorts, “Like you would know a healthy attachment pattern if it bit you in the ass.” 

Dean considers protesting, but he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on there. 

“Guess it’s in the job description. Are we gonna go fight some monsters, or what?” 

“Yeah, let’s go find the monsters,” Buffy says, grinning at Dean. “That’s what heroes do, right?”  

***

Sam zones out of the discussion around the time Cas and Giles start talking comparative theology through the millennia. He slouches back on the couch and watches them fondly as Cas answers question after question. His eyelids feel heavy and he’s comfortable, and even though he knows he should take the opportunity to learn more about this totally new Earth, all he really wants to do is sit, and breathe, and rest. 

Cas and Giles end up heading back to Giles’s house for tea and… something about an old book of etchings? Sam can’t really follow Giles’s breathless, excited rambling. He waves them off, thinking that he might actually go to sleep early, for once. 

Sam goes to the kitchen, chugs a glass of water and then fills another, and he just stands there for a moment, one hip leaning against the counter as he looks around. It’s such a normal house. Even on their most domestic days, they’re still in a bunker. Must be nice to have a little bit of normalcy, no matter how crazy life gets. There’s faint music and the occasional giggle from upstairs, but otherwise, the house is quiet. 

Of course, just as he has that thought, the front door slams open and someone shouts, “Yo, B! Ready to go?” 

“She went out already,” Sam says, bemused. 

He gets an impression of red lips, dark hair, and leather as the girl closes the door behind herself, moving whirlwind-quick. She plants her feet (loudly, in big stompy combat boots) and crosses her arms, looking at Sam suspiciously. Neither of them move for a second.  

“I’m Faith,” she announces eventually. “Who the fuck are you, why the fuck are you in B’s kitchen, and where the fuck is she?” 

“Sam, and… it’s a long story. She’s out patrolling with my brother, they left about an hour ago.” 

Faith seems to make some sort of decision about him, and suspicion turns to mischief as she gives him a broad grin. “If your brother looks anything like you, can’t blame the girl for ditchin’ me.” 

Sam’s mouth twitches as he tries to hold back a smile, and he takes a sip of water to cover it. 

“Aww, you shy?” Faith teases. Her voice is low and raspy, kind of absurdly sexy, and she clearly knows it. “Must be one of those nice guys I’ve heard so much about.” 

Sam doesn’t answer. He watches Faith stalk toward him. 

She’s a fucking force of nature, Sam can already tell, all aggression and attitude as she comes at him with a challenge in her eyes. He doesn’t move when she gets up in his space, looking Sam up and down like she’s inspecting him. He has a feeling she’s used to people backing away before they let her get this close. 

“Sam, huh? What brings you to Sunnydale?” 

“Just passing through,” Sam says calmly. “What about you?” 

“How do you know I’m not from around here?” she asks, looking up at him coyly. 

Sam doesn’t dignify that with a response, just smirks and waits. She takes a step back and leans against the counter, mirroring his pose. Her eyes are sparkling. 

“Fair enough. I’m a Slayer, figured I’d stick around in Sunnydale and help B for a while. Always seems to be somethin’ around here that needs its ass kicked.” 

Sam cocks his head to the side, considering her. “So you fight vampires?” 

“And whatever else is askin’ for a fight,” she retorts. “Why, is your brother a vampire?” 

“What?” 

“Buffy’s got a type. A demonic kinda type, if you know what I’m sayin’. Don’t worry, I won’t stake him.” 

Sam laughs. Figures. “I wasn’t worried. Just curious if the superpowers are all they’re cracked up to be.” 

“You better believe it,” Faith says proudly. “Strength, speed… stamina.” She says the last with a sly, unsubtle smirk, watching Sam to gauge his reaction. 

“Show me,” he challenges. He doesn’t specify which one he means, and Faith raises one eyebrow. 

“Right here? I figured you’d be the candlelight and Al Green type.” 

Sam smiles. She’s not the first person to make that assumption. 

The first punch is light, and he lets her see it coming; she dodges it easily, without so much as blinking. Sam’s left hand snakes out, lightning-fast this time, and she sidesteps neatly, grabbing his wrist instead and holding his arm in place. She’s stronger than he expected, and she’s grinning like this is the most fun she’s had all week. 

“Sure about this? I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” she says, sugary-sweet. 

The next punch is in earnest. She blocks it, throws one of her own, and then it’s a blur for a moment, a flurry of blows one after another, none of them landing. Neither of them are moving their feet much, trapped in the narrow space between the counter and the kitchen table; they’re just testing each other. 

“Not bad,” Sam admits. 

“Right back atcha.” 

She takes a couple steps backward, out into the open space, and Sam follows, watching closely. This time she lets loose with a flashy spin-jump-kick thing like something out of a cheesy action movie, and Sam’s laughing as he ducks. 

“Points for style, but not for substance,” he teases. 

She comes back at him twice as hard and almost gets him this time, but then he snatches her wrists and slams her back against the wall with a thunk that’s a whole lot louder than he expected. They both wince and freeze. 

“Everything okay?” Willow yells from upstairs.

Charlie’s pissy voice adds, “Please don’t tell me that was a monster.” 

“Just tripped,” Sam shouts back. He looks down at Faith, taking a half-step closer so that there’s maybe an inch of space between their bodies. He’s still got her wrists pinned over her head. She’s definitely not trying to get away. He has a feeling she could, easily, if she wanted to. 

“Not so nice after all, then,” she purrs, looking up at him through her lashes. 

Sam shakes his head slightly. “Not so much. You giving up, then?” 

“Not a fuckin’ chance. Just thinkin’ maybe we should have the rematch back at my place. You know, in case you ‘trip’ again.” 

“Sounds like a good idea.” 

***

Probably good they only stayed for a day, Dean thinks, looking around the room. Nobody, from either world, looks particularly happy about the departure, but they’ve all said goodbye often enough that they don’t draw it out. Charlie gives Willow one last little wave, and then she hits the button. Everything goes fuzzy. 

It’s disorienting, for a moment, but the bunker comes into focus around them. After the dizziness has passed, Dean gives Charlie a wordless hug. 

“I’m gonna go read a book with pictures in it,” she says glumly, and shuffles away. “And eat ice cream.” 

“Research time, I guess,” Sam says. “Back to work.” 

Cas heads to the kitchen to make some coffee as Sam starts flipping through his notes. Dean settles down at the table and looks at the nearest book without really seeing it. He feels fucking off, almost sad, as if he could’ve possibly gotten attached to that other world in less than twenty-four hours. 

“That was… kinda a nice universe, right?” he says. “I dunno. There was something about it.” 

Sam gives him a knowing look. “Yeah.” 

“Ever wish we could just… stay somewhere else?” Dean says, and he can’t keep the bitter note out of his voice. “I mean, why do we keep coming back to this world? What’s so great about it?” 

“It’s ours,” Sam says, with a shrug. “I mean, the other one wasn’t our responsibility, you know? Of course it was nice, not having to worry, but… this one’s ours. Gotta take care of it.” 

Dean twirls a pencil between his fingers and wishes it was a stake. He smiles, slightly, as he remembers. 

That’s what heroes do. 

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