#THAT'S MORE THAN I'VE DONE IN THE LAST TWO DAYS TOTAL IN ONE GODDAMN HOUR ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEE

[bloomingstay]

favorite kpop group tag~ thank you @binniesbang!

who is your favorite kpop group?

stray kids, if that was any surprise

which member sparked your interest first?

hyunjin! i've almost always been pulled in by the dancer (lee know i know but) specifically the style of dance hyunjin excels in. the isolation is so satisfying and cool. for some reason choreo always gets a song stuck in my head??

But also!! I had heard they produced their own music and that really got me interested in kpop again

who was your first bias?

chris bang 🤍 went from zero to ult within no more than two days tbh…

what makes them your current bias?

oh god. um. i'll put this in the least embarrassing way possible. (this is a kpop tumblr blog I should probably get over it)

it was a particularly bad year. i stumbled upon their silly videos (thank you stay for the edits<3) and they made me laugh. then i started seeing clips of chans room and him interacting with the boys and just like... he's so wonderful. he's generous and kind and loving and thoughtful. just a shy lil guy who also happens to be a flirt and a fucking dork and it's cute man idk shut upp

who is your bias wrecker?

i was certain i'd never have one, i truly adore each of those boys so so much.

i was however proven wrong after a very sweet, silly compilation of binnie being ridiculous. followed by a face cam of his sclass performance in the supreme jersey?? and the curls?? he has such amazing stage presence and he's a great dancer. but he kept going from his cute sweet binnie expressions looking like he was just so into it and having fun, to the "dark rapper" eyes and commanding stage presence. and like, wow. 🖤 i am a sucker for that kind of duality.

which members are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/wrecker?

in another reality han is my wrecker. that boy is the epitome of what i used to look for in guys: babygirl. lol. well, and insanely talented and funny and everything. I adore him

after befriending a couple seungmin stans, i started looking for pics and clips to send them and found myself so incredibly impressed with him and touched by some of the things he's said and done. plus he’s a funny little shit.

hwang hyunjin is such a sweet boy. since we got producer jinnie on the last album i have been looking back and just so impressed with his growth 🤍

when did you first discover the group?

(Upon editing I realize I read this as ‘how’ but oh well)

okokok so

i was a kpop fan 2014-2017 and went all in. kcon and concerts the whole thing

but then i was just on my usual 6 hour yt shorts binge as i tried to fall asleep and saw skz reacting to the "your eyes" mv, specifically felix's part, obviously. i watched it like 12 times just cry laughing at han screaming, hyunjin trying to escape, channie hiding behind his hands and squealing. it was just so funny to see a group kind of clowning their own shit? i thought they were hilarious.

then i saw julien (solomita) had reacted to 'topline' and i was soooo into it. immediately went to watch some mvs and decided cool i'll be a totally normal casual fan of this group’s music….. :)

THEN a lovely lady i'd followed on my 10 year old tumblr account posted about skz. i messaged her that I’d finally decided to check them out and she was kind enough to answer questions and entertain my onslaught of messages as I screamed about how much I love these boys. and she still does everyday so. thank you hana 🌸

have you ever been to one of their concerts?

not yet~

what are some of your favorite songs by them?

THIS SECTION TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG. disclaimer: I absolutely could not include non ot8 this would’ve been 30 songs (I’m probably going to cheat)

Hall of fame. bitch ever since that live stage (which was the first time I’d heard it) I’ve listened to the sclass album 3 times a week no joke, goddamn it’s so good. so just know, i pulled almost every song from that album off this list when i made cuts

levanter. a hard pill to swallow mid relationship struggles and holds a lot of meaning for me.

secret secret. i can't get over how professional this song sounds and how it was just a few years in?

leave. where i got my username~ like I said, relationship stuff. You have not yet really bloomed When the new season comes I hope the warmth will make you bloom Into a flower that never dies

sclass. *bling bling* HIPHOPSTEP. such a fucking chaotic mess of a jam.

megaverse. the breakdown? MEGAPHONE. Han, bitch? We make the rules nobody can hold me yeaaahhh. Your body shakes - STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD. Sorry, flawless.

gods menu. ate, bitch. chan was something the fuck else

domino. neeed I say more

social path is bomb

grow up. read lyrics for the first time just now ow

eternity. told u I’d cheat.

love poem. big cheat my list worth it

I am going to be so mad when I realize I missed a song I listen to 7 times a day but been doin this for 2 hours so I’m calling it. Also forgive me I’m still working through the discography (backwards) and haven’t listened to the full first couple albums.

the adhd is allowing no further focus or thought so i will be tagging the same friends as my last tag post no pressure <3

@channieblossoms @skzms @roseykat @thefantasyden @seungsungracha @astraysis @channieswife

Thank you again @binniesbang for tagging me~!

#I WONT APOLOGIZE FOR HOW LONG this is #if yo i wanna read it you can if not that's absolutely okay too EVEN if i tagged you~ #chatty #tag #<3 #binniesbang #ur a sweetie tbh thk u #stray kids #skz #stay

[a-moth-to-the-light]

when your alarms don't go off but you aren't exactly mad about it (dec 07, 2022)

It's been a little bit since I've done one of these! Life is hard, especially since I've been living in a triggered state for a little while now, but I appreciate getting to sit down and write, even if it's not too often!

Spotify Wrapped, 2

Today, we're talking about my Top Songs 2022 playlist, as created by Spotify! My comments, straight from my brain to your home heating system:

a. The lack of Bruce Springsteen here is surprising--I figured we might get "Lonesome Day" or "Land of Hope and Dreams" or "The River", all of which have been on my mind this year, in there somewhere, but the only Springsteen song on the list was "I'm Goin' Down" (though it was at #13, which is kind of awesome). It's a fantastic song that definitely matched my mood this year, so I'm glad it got represented-- but where's the rest of my Springsteen? How am I supposed to prove my fanboy status if Spotify does this to me :(

b. The artists tied for most songs on the list are Red Velvet & Bad Suns, each with five songs! Last year, only GFRIEND had five songs on the list--it's fun to have a tie this year! (And yes, one of those songs was "Mago"--even though we didn't know it was a goodbye song back then, there's something about it that just makes it the perfect way to finish off such a glorious career.) Perhaps most impressive is that all five Bad Suns songs are from only two albums total--I've actually only listened to two of their four albums, and yet I've already found so many classics!

c. There are four songs that have managed to make my Top Songs lists for three years straight now (my lists from 2018 & 2019 are very different, as my taste shifted a lot in 2020, so no songs have made it on more than three lists)--"As If It's Your Last" by Blackpink, "Bad Boy" by Red Velvet, "Blueming" by IU, and "Why So Lonely" by Wonder Girls (And "I Feel You" is back for its second year! Yay Wonder Girls!). Usually, when people gush about "Bad Boy" (as Reveluvs on YouTube are wont to do), I think okay, I don't really get it but I'm glad they're happy. I'm fully on team "Really Bad Boy", but apparently I like "Bad Boy" more than I thought I did. Also don't make fun of me for having "Why So Lonely" on here... yes I feel chronically empty inside and yes I need a passive-aggressive sadgirl anthem to help me through it and yes that hasn't changed in three years and probably never will! (lighthearted)

d. WHY WON'T SPOTIFY LET ME SORT THIS GODDAMN LIST BY ARTIST??!?!?!?!

e. Both songs from Sumni's Heart Burn single made it into my top 20!

f. UNNATURAL BY WJSN IS BACK FOR A SECOND YEAR AND SHE DESERVES IT SO SO MUCH

the day, in short

So I actually never fell asleep on Tuesday night, and I ended up giving up on trying to sleep around four a.m. and just heading to the gym when it opened at six! Then I had the glorious experience of age-regressing at the gym in the hell-hours of the morning: tottering around the track, watching the sunrise, and struggling to relearn how to put gloves on. Being a kid is tough, but it really did feel magical to enjoy the gym through a child's eyes, especially with the novelty of being there so early in the morning (we usually take our walks around the track right before dinner)!

After our first class, we got to take a nap! We always like falling asleep in the daytime so much better than falling asleep at night--the only issue is that people keep wanting us to do things during the day. sigh We ended up napping wayyyyy too long, though, oversleeping our alarm and missing a class (+ the start of our other class). This is what happens when we forget to take our sleeping pills--we don't sleep at all, and then, when we take one the next day, all the tiredness catches up to us. I'm pretty sad about missing those classes, since I was really excited for some of the stuff happening, but I'm glad I got such a nice nap--I'm struggling with emotion-management already, so trying to do so on even less sleep would probably have been even more hellish. My body knows what it needs; it really is looking out for me :)

And yes I know I'm switching between I & we here! That's a pretty common thing I do when talking about myself, so hopefully it's not too confusing! It just makes the most sense to me to use a mix of both, especially when I'm comfortable enough that I don't feel the need to mask! arm wave for emphasis

Quote of the Day

#tittyequality

-- not me this time, though this is probably something i would say (embarrassed)!

#six keeps on running

[punk-pandame]

i get more done in the hour it takes for my drugs to kick in than literally any other part of the day and that’s executive dysfunction babeyyyy

#notsns #notnaruto #brain no worky #textpost #physically incapable of performing tasks until i'm on the slimmest timeline ever #that's probably another adhd thing that i should bring up to my therapist and hopefully finally get my dx right #ive been wanting to clear off my coffee table for two weeks and i finally just did it #also cleaned my counters which ive wanted to do the last three days and couldn't for no reason #i also fed myself and put a cake in the oven #????? #THAT'S MORE THAN I'VE DONE IN THE LAST TWO DAYS TOTAL IN ONE GODDAMN HOUR ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEE

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan #rowan whitehorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction

[hermannsthumb]

I've read fics where Hermann disapproves of PDAs but what about the reverse? As in he's so stunned at winning the most amazing man in the Shatterdome (6 phds, literal rockstar, gorgeous Newt) that he deliberately provokes contact and shows of affection. Just to show off to people and send a clear back off signal. And Newt just dotes on him obliviously.

ok this one is another super old prompt and when I was writing it this week it KINDA got away from me. but I hope everyone enjoyyyys. partially inspired from conversations with @k-sci-janitor 👀 totally sfw, except for one brief reference

anyway, a fic about hermann being all affectionate with newt and also discovering what relaxation is 

——————————————-------------------------------------------

The day after the world doesn’t end, Hermann brings Newt breakfast in bed.

Honestly, it surprises Newt more than the whole world not ending thing. Up until the previous evening, after all, Newt was pretty damn sure the guy absolutely hated him, and that if Hermann was gonna do something as out of character as bringing him breakfast, it surely meant he’d spat in it first. Or maybe poisoned it. If hated isn’t the right word, Newt would say Hermann at the very least barely tolerated. And then the whole sharing the neural load thing happened. And, after that, hugging, not once, but twice, and then falling asleep in bed together. And now Hermann’s perched on the edge of his bed (which they shared while they slept) and handing him a plate.

“You had quite the busy day yesterday,” Hermann says kindly. Hermann has never spoken to Newt kindly before. Atop the plate are two pieces of toast, a soft-boiled egg, and a mug of coffee. The coffee and toast (Newt notices) are exactly the shade he prefers. He wonders if Hermann picked up on it before or after the whole mind-melding thing. Before wouldn’t surprise him—Hermann has always been weird about noticing details like that. The egg, however, is something purely Hermann in taste. “I imagine you could use a nice spot of breakfast,” he adds.

Newt shoves his glasses on and blinks at Hermann groggily. He struggles to sit up, partially tangled in his sheets, and then takes the plate. A little bit of coffee sloshes down onto one of the slices of toast. “Are you wearing my sweatshirt?” he says.

Hermann smiles and looks down at the ragged old MIT sweatshirt he’s tossed on. He may have a few inches on Newt, but he’s still one skinny motherfucker, and it hangs almost comically off his frame. “I am,” he says. “I poked around in your closet, I hope you don’t mind. My clothing was in a rather sorry state.”

Sorry state is an understatement for both of them. Newt’s surprised they haven’t been formally ordered to burn the shit they wore to the bone slums yet. Blood, dirt, and kaiju guts aside, Newt’s, at least, reeks to high heaven with sweat. “No worries,” Newt says. He picks up the coffee and blows on it. He wonders where Hermann got coffee that smells this good. It’s been hard to find anything decent and non-instant on the base these days, and (thanks to limited rations) chain shops like Starbucks cost an arm and a leg for even a small. He also wonders what people thought when they saw Hermann strutting around the base with bedhead in a sweatshirt that obviously wasn’t his. Newt almost wants to blush on his behalf. Scandalous.

Before Newt can so much as take a sip of the coffee, Hermann is suddenly unbuckling and shucking off his grey slacks. “Dude!” Newt yelps, flushing bright red to the tips of his ears. Hermann blinks at him innocently. “What are you doing?”

It’s not so much that Newt is upset as it is that it’s so wildly out of character for Hermann that he feels he owes it to Hermann to act at least moderately scandalized. In all his years of knowing and working alongside Hermann, he’s never so much as seen Hermann’s bare wrist before. Now he’s in Newt’s goddamn bed flashing calves, and thighs, and neatly-pressed little white briefs… Hermann rolls his eyes and tosses the slacks (unfolded!) onto Newt’s desk chair. “Making myself comfortable,” he says. “Would you like me to stop?”

Does Hermann iron his underwear? It would be at odds with the rest of his clothing if he did, which is usually in various stages of frumpy to outright wrinkled, but Newt can’t think of how else it would look like that. He wonders if Hermann’s stitched his name on the inner waistband. It seems like the kind of thing Hermann would do. Newt suddenly realizes he’s been staring at Hermann’s briefs (and, worse still, considering how cute Hermann looks in just them and Newt’s sweatshirt) for an uncomfortably long time, so he quickly shakes his head and drags his eyes to Hermann’s face. One of Hermann’s eyebrows is quirked up. Newt hasn’t been subtle. “No,” he says. He clears his throat. “No, dude, you’re—all good.”

He chokes down a too-hot sip of coffee to have something to do with his mouth.

Hermann smirks.

The bedcovers are drawn back. Hermann slips under them and drapes an arm across Newt’s chest, his hand curling protectively over Newt’s hip. With his other hand he snags Newt’s coffee from his grasp and takes a sip. Newt watches his jaw and throat work as he swallows it, a funny feeling blooming in the pit of his stomach. The mug is handed back over, Hermann’s fingers brushing against Newt’s, which make Newt feel even funnier. “Newton,” Hermann declares. “I think we ought to have sex.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Can I finish my breakfast first?”

“Certainly,” Hermann says.

Newt’s heart pounds as he spreads a little packet of margarine across one of the pieces of toast; he can feel Hermann’s eyes on him, never straying once. Hermann’s hand draws little circles on his hip. Newt drops his toast twice to the plate before he can successfully take a bite, and even when he does, he doesn’t taste it. Hermann’s fingers dip under the hem of his t-shirt. Newt swallows his toast. “Why?” he says.

Apparently it’s the right question. Hermann nods, like he’s pleased Newt has asked. Like they’re talking theories or something. “I came to the conclusion while I fetching your coffee,” Hermann says. “It occurred to me that I wouldn’t have gotten up at seven in the morning to get coffee for just anyone. Then, of course, there is the whole drifting business—”

“You realized you wouldn’t have done that for just anyone too, huh?” Newt says with a smile. Hermann’s hand on his hip stills, and his cheeks go pink. Newt’s relieved to have gotten some ground back here. “Hermann, that’s sooo romantic.”

“The world was at stake,” Hermann sniffs.

“It’s okay,” Newt says. “I won’t tell anyone the great Dr. Gottlieb has feelings. So, what, you realized you have a big ole crush on me?”

Hermann takes the unfinished piece of toast from him and sets it down on his plate. He pulls Newt’s glasses off, kisses him soundly, and then puts Newt’s glasses back on. His mouth tastes like toothpaste. “On the contrary, I’ve always suspected it,” he says. “It’s just that now I have the time to confirm it.” He reaches up and strokes at Newt’s hair. “We have the time for lots of things, now, Newton. Whatever we’d like.”

Newt finishes off his coffee quickly, not even caring when he burns his tongue, and then tosses the remainder of his breakfast to the floor. His egg spills onto the massacred skinny corduroys he wore yesterday. Whatever, Newt’s burning them anyway. “God, get overhere already, man,” he says, tugging at Hermann’s borrowed sweatshirt. He needs to help Hermann confirm his crush or whatever, pronto.

--

It’s a few days before Newt and Hermann finally drag themselves out of bed and to the lab to tackle what little work remains for them to do—cataloguing what are apparently the last kaiju samples known to man (Newt), recording and backing up their drift data (Newt’s solo drift, and then their joint data), drawing some random scribbles on the board and pretending they’re important calculations about the possibility of the Breach reopening (Hermann. Okay, whatever, maybe they are important). Unfortunately, the delay isn’t for any sexy reasons, as much as Newt would’ve liked it to have been. The events of the last day of the war caught up with them pretty quickly after that morning in Newt’s bed, and they mostly just slept, ordered out dinner, popped ibuprofen for their various aches, and avoided medical at all costs. (Rumor had it the medical staff on base were looking for him and Hermann so they could do some brain scans. Apparently drifting with a kaiju brain is potentially dangerous, who knew.)

A rancid smell washes over them the second they push the heavy lab doors open, and Newt spots several hunks of kaiju organs rotting away on his workbench. Hermann clamps a hand to his mouth. “Oops,” Newt says, turning to Hermann sheepishly. He can’t help but cower as he does. He and Hermann got along swimmingly the past couple days—it’ll be sad to see all that hard work go down the drain over this. “Guess I forgot to clean up the other day. In my defense—we were kind of busy.”

But Hermann doesn’t snap at Newt, or thump his cane on the ground, or call Newt an idiot, or even look annoyed; he lowers his hand from his mouth and laughs. Albeit a terse laugh, but still. Newt gapes at him. “We were rather busy,” Hermann concedes. “So long as you clean it up in the next ten minutes, I—what, Newton?”

“Nothing,” Newt says, quickly. “I’m gonna—um—deal with it now.”

Hermann disappears from the lab while Newt is digging around in the storage closet for extra heavy-duty trash bags. When he comes back an hour later, he’s holding a cardboard tray of small plastic cups, and Newt has just hefted his last spoiled sample into the lab’s airtight biohazard bin (a bit mournfully, if he’s being honest, since he’s sure there’s still more to learn about the kaiju from them). Newt squints at the cups in the tray while he rips his messy disposable work gloves off. “What’s that?” he says.

“Iced coffee,” Hermann declares.

The gloves slap, wetly, into the biohazard bin, and Newt lets out a low whistle. “Dude. No way. From where?” He’s not sure when he gave off the impression that the way to his heart was good coffee, but maybe it’s true. Then again, Hermann could probably win him over with a cup of lukewarm tap water. Not because Newt is desperate or anything. He just really likes Hermann.

“A little shop a bit away from the base,” Hermann says. “I took the bus.” He draws back his chair and sits down with a soft sigh, setting his cane against his desk. Then he draws out a small brown paper bag from his parka pocket. He tosses it to Newt; Newt catches it with one hand. “They had these funny little cakes on sticks. I thought you might like one.”

“Cake pops?” Newt says.

“I presume,” Hermann says. While Newt inhales the little chocolate-dipped cake pop (which is so good, oh my God, Newt hasn’t had dessert that didn’t come from a vending machine in plastic shrink wrap in years), Hermann adds, “I wasn’t sure what sort of iced coffee you liked, so I made sure to get a variety.”

“Sick,” Newt says, spewing crumbs on his shirt. “Um. But, like, why though?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hermann says. “I suppose I wanted to do something kind for you.” He carefully slides a straw out of its paper wrappings and pokes it into the lid of one of the coffees. Once he crumples up the wrapper and tosses It into his train bin, he grips his cane, and uses the handle to nudge Newt’s desk chair towards him. “You worked awfully hard cleaning the laboratory.”

Newt preens a little, even as he privately wonders why Hermann’s acting so weird. Well, nice. But nice is weird for Hermann, so they’re basically the same thing. Is this part of his whole deciding whether or not he digs Newt thing? Newt just assumed the awesome morning they spent together would be proof enough of that. Then again, Hermann’s pretty thorough. “I guess,” Newt says. “It was kind of my mess, though.”

Hermann pats at the empty chair with a smile. Hermann’s smiles are so rare—crooked, and stupid cute—that Newt’s heart gives a painful little twist at the sight of it, and he realizes he doesn’t actually give a shit about why Hermann’s being all weird, actually. “You’ve earned a break,” Hermann says. “Besides, I’d like to spend time with you.”

Newt’s too stunned to argue with that one. When he sits down, Hermann inches their chairs together until their knees are touching.

--

They don’t necessarily fall back into their usual habits by the next week, but the better ones they’ve picked up (being a little kinder to each other, a little more patient, a little more respectful, and also the fact that Hermann can’t seem to stop touching Newt) all but fall into the background as Newt throws himself into his work with renewed determination. Unfortunately, his desire to get it all done as soon as fucking possible speaks less to his awesome work ethic, and more to the fact that he’s just not sure what else to do with himself now, and he likes that work gives him the excuse to not think about it. Hermann said they have all the time to do whatever they like now. Well, Newt likes working. He knows working. Relaxation is a foreign concept to him, and it was a foreign concept to Hermann up until recently. While Newt is toiling away over his decaying kaiju samples in the lab, Hermann is out—

“Where?” Newt says.

Hermann gives Newt the most serene smile Newt’s ever seen cross his face. “I took a bath,” he says. “It was very nice. I bought some nice soaps, and lit some candles, and looked online to see how to do one of those mud masks. It was very relaxing. You ought to try it.”

“Try bathing?” Newt says.

“Yes. Well, no. I mean taking a bath. Is there something you’re not understanding?”

Newt tries to imagine Hermann with a mud mask on his face and cucumbers over his eyes and fails miserably. Hermann hates messes. He would never stand for mud, let alone on his skin. Where’d he even find a bathtub? Did he break into the rangers’ locker room again? Aren't candles banned on base for being a fire hazard, anyway? “Yeah,” Newt says. “Pretty much all of it.”

Hermann shakes his head with a snort, and Newt catches a whiff of something floral and fragrant—his fancy new soap or oil, he guesses. “I’m not surprised. You know, Newton, you are awfully tense.”

Hearing that from Hermann of all people, the king of having-a-massive-stick-up-your-ass, is probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened to Newt. He laughs out loud and plunges a bare hand into his kaiju sample with a gross squelching noise. “Sure, dude.”

He’s almost too engrossed in his sample to feel Hermann sidling up behind him and setting a hand at his waist. He definitely feels Hermann nose a kiss behind his ear, though, and the hot flush that spreads down across his neck from it. Newt’s hand goes sweaty around his scalpel. One thing he definitely wasn’t expecting from a post-no-apocalypse Hermann is how free he is with affection in any and all forms. “Give it a rest, love,” Hermann murmurs. He nudges at the heel of Newt’s boot with the end of his cane. Love? “Why don’t we head back to my quarters and watch a film? You can pick.”

“But.” Newt fidgets. “I have—my sample—”

Another little kiss. The soapy-oil smell is stronger now. Newt thinks it might be lavender. He wonders if the mud mask left Hermann’s skin all soft. “It won’t be going anywhere, Newton.”

Newt sets down his scalpel.

When they they pass by a group of LOCCENT staff in the hallway, Newt makes to drop Hermann’s hand (which Hermann had laced together with his own before they left the lab), but Hermann holds fast, maybe even faster than before, and looks at him with his stupidly sweet set of big eyes. Newt waits until they round the corner to say anything. “Sorry,” he says, lamely. “Um. I thought—you wouldn’t want—” Hermann continues to stare at him. His iris is still ringed red like Newt’s. “I just mean I know you’re weird about stuff like that. Public stuff.” Hermann has been a closed and tightly-bound book for as long as Newt’s known him; he can’t imagine that would suddenly change and he would start broadcasting his emotions far and wide in the course of a week just because he’s a little less stressed.

Or, you know. Maybe Newt’s totally wrong on this. “Ah,” Hermann says. He nods, very seriously. “Yes. I have been considering that as well. I see no reason to hide recent developments in our relationship.” He squeezes Newt’s hand. "In fact, I see no reason to not be quite, er, proud of them. You’re quite the catch.”

Newt remembers the stolen sweatshirt. Maybe Hermann wearing it out to get them breakfast was more calculated than he realized. “So if I made out with you against the wall right now you wouldn’t be mad?” Newt says.

“Well,” Hermann says, inclining his head to his door, "seeing as my quarters are right there, it seems a rather unnecessary inconvenience.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Newt smiles as Hermann leads him in. “Can I really pick the movie?”

“Within reason.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #esperata

[the-young-and-forgotten]

Happiness

| evermore masterlist |

A/N: this is my first fic for the collab with @just-a-belgian-girl! I hope you enjoy it! This honestly took too long to write lol

Honey, when I'm above the trees

I see this for what it is

But now I'm right down in it

All the years I've given

Is just shit we're dividing up

Showed you all of my hiding spots

I was dancing when the music stopped

And in the disbelief

I can't face reinvention

I haven't met the new me yet

It was a chilly Autumn night, Sirius was yet to return home from his latest mission, so you were stuck eating dinner alone… again.

You had come out of Hogwarts a year and a half ago. You were now living with your boyfriend. You were happy as one could be when your relationship starts feeling forced.

In all honesty, one side of you knew that he had fallen out of love. But your naive side won out whispering ‘it’ll be okay’ ‘he still loves you’ ‘his work is just taking a toll on him’ into your ear, preventing you from seeing the truth. So you continued on, stuck in the same routine as always.

Tears slid down your face as you stood to put your dishes away. Of course this happened to you. Nothing ever won out in your favour.

Hearing a knock on the door, you startle and drop the plate into the sink. You plaster on the smile you have been practicing for the past year.

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you

Both of these things can be true

There is happiness

Past the blood and bruise

Past the curses and cries

Beyond the terror in the nightfall

Haunted by the look in my eyes

That would've loved you for a lifetime

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

You hadn’t noticed it was raining until you opened the door wide to let Sirius in. He was soaked through, looking like a drowned rat.

He shrugged off his cloak and threw it over the coat rack, tracking the water indoors. He bends down and kisses your cheek, lacking the warmth it used to have. He murmurs a hello before continuing to the kitchen.

“Dinner’s on the table” you pointlessly mutter, following him through. “I’m just gonna go to bed...” He barely acknowledges what you said, too busy helping himself to the food. You wrap your arms around your aching torso and go upstairs, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

You close the door behind you, enclosing yourself in the dark. You flop down onto the bed, tears flowing freely. What had happened to the beautiful romance the two of you used to have? Oh, how you miss it. Everything was so much simpler back then.

You curl in on yourself, as if trying to protect yourself from the hurtful truth. After a while, Sirius sneaks in, bending over to give you a goodnight kiss. If he notices your puffy eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

Tell me, when did your winning smile

Begin to look like a smirk?

When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?

I hope she'll be a beautiful fool

Who takes my spot next to you

No, I didn't mean that

Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury

You haven't met the new me yet

The sun isn’t even up by the time you both get out of bed. It’s quiet, something totally out of character for Sirius.

He was sitting at the table, head in his hands. You walk behind him and hug him from behind, sliding your hands down his chest. “What’s wrong beautiful?” He shrugs off your hands and stands up, chair cluttering down behind him.

“I’m just- I’m just not feeling the greatest right now.” He leans on the table, hair in his face. He was clearly exhausted. You place a tentative hand on his shoulder, slightly nervous to be touching him in this state. “Sirius if you want I can-” “Just stop.” He flings you hand off once more, turning to face you.

You blink owlishly up at him “What” “I just-” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “I need to be alone right now”

‘I need to be alone right now’

The words echo in your mind. For six months you have been hearing that one repeat. You were sick of it.

Barely registering what you were doing, you slap the top of the table in anger. “No.” He lowers his hand and stares at you incredulously. “No?” It comes in a whisper. The calm before the storm.

You nod feverishly “No. I have had it up to here with your excuses as to why you can’t hang out with me anymore. I didn’t come into this relationship only to be second guessing whether or not my boyfriend loves me.” He goes to interrupt but you plow on, refusing his input.

“Time and time again I have pushed down my anger and hurt saying ‘he’s just going through something’ but you’re not, you’re not. Just.. tell me what I’m doing wrong!”

The room feels more crowded as he moves toward you, eyes spitting fury. “What’s wrong?” He gestures to the two of you. “We are wrong. We can never agree, constant nit-picking at each other and so much anger!”

You throw your hands up in rage “I’m only angry because you neglect me! You slouch inside the house every. Single. Evening. So mopey and goddamn tired either demanding food or sleep and I can’t handle it! You are NOT the Sirius Black of Hogwarts.”

He freezes in anger stone cold. Impassive. Then, he erupts. “Open your eyes Y/n! THIS ISN’T HOGWARTS ANYMORE. We can’t run around like the kings and queens of the world anymore! You don’t think I want to go back? You don’t think-” he chokes, angrily wiping away tears. “You don’t think I want everything as it was?” His voice drops at this, letting the tears fall.

“I can’t take this new world! It’s big! It’s cold! It’s dog eat dog constantly. Someone like me can’t survive out here! I need life, love, I need warmth. But day in and day out I sit here slowly freezing from the inside out.”

He wraps his arms around his torso and bends over, screaming with so much hurt and anger that you start to cry as much as him.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I just can’t do this anymore.”

He walks away from you, fingers working at his hair. He stomps outside, front door slamming shut causing the whole house to shake.

There'll be happiness after me

But there was happiness because of me

Both of these things I believe

There is happiness

In our history

Across our great divide

There is a glorious sunrise

Dappled with the flickers of light

From the dress I wore at midnight

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

You hear the roar of his motorbike before you see him leave. You knew this was a long time coming. In a way you were sort of relieved. But damn you forgot how much it stung.

He was gonna come back soon. You just knew it. But he wasn’t going to stay.

This was the end.

The end of you and him. Him and you. Forever.

‘Oh well’ you think, but the tears in your eyes say otherwise. It just started really sinking in now.

You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. It was way too early for this shit. You finally get up to make yourself a cup of coffee and go sit on your porch.

The sun was starting to rise but you had little appreciation for it. Content to sip your coffee and overthink. It wasn’t until the warm, golden rays of the early morning hit your face did you really start to appreciate it. Hell, you hadn’t seen the sun rise in forever. You slowly place the cup down and rest your arms upon your legs, leaning in. You close your eyes and feel the soft sun upon your face. For the first time in ages you feel whole again.

I can't make it go away by making you a villain

I guess it's the price I pay for seven years in heaven

And I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties

No one teaches you what to do

When a good man hurts you

And you know you hurt him too

He comes back near nighttime, significantly calmer than hours before. You were sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch and reading your book. “Did you come back to get your stuff?” You ask, idly flipping over the page. The only response was the sound of a suitcase being dragged across the floor.

He dragged it all the way to the front door, pausing. You stand up from your position, a little confused. “So are you gonna go or-?”

“I never meant for this to happen..” Sirius whispered, so quietly you had to strain to hear him. He turned around to face you, tear tracks staining his cheeks. “I thought we would last forever like James and Lily.”

Sighing you walk over to him resting a hand on his arm “James and Lily are one of a kind. We just weren’t meant for this type of long time relationship.” You smile gently at him, feeling unreasonably calm. “You said it yourself back in 5th year. Honestly we tried too hard didn’t we.” You feel your own eyes start to well up. Fuck, you had thought you were done with tears.

He drops his suitcase and pulls you in for a hug, resting his head on yours. In that hug you feel all the memories you shared and the countless deeds you had committed together pass through. All of those memories were now sitting in an old castle, shut away and partially forgotten.

The two of you pull away and you wave him off. The night quickly swallows him up, leaving where he was going to himself and the night only. The cold air bites at you but you can’t bring yourself to go in just yet, so you sit down and wait. Waiting for what, you don’t know. Finally you force yourself to go in, the house more quiet than you had ever heard it.

Honey, when I'm above the trees

I see it for what it is

But now my eyes leak acid rain

On the pillow where you used to lay your head

After giving you the best I had

Tell me what to give after that

All you want from me now

Is the green light of forgiveness

You haven't met the new me yet

And I think she'll give you that

If someone had told you that in 2 years time that Sirius would break up with you and you were gonna be sleeping alone you would've laughed in their face. But it wasn’t all that funny anymore.

Your body fluids must have gone down to 20% due to the amount of tears you were shedding. Did they ever end? Everytime you wiped your face, your hand came back damp with tears.

It was one of those nights where everything felt lonely. The house had been eerily quiet for days now and...deserted. You shift onto your side, unable to sleep. The left side of the bed remained untouched and cold. You reach over and lay your hand on the pillow. You can almost feel him there. But of course, it’s empty.

You throw yourself out of bed, stomping out to the front.

In the lamplight you see a young couple twirling their way along the sidewalk, their laughter rings around the street, so carefree and drunk on love. You smile softly at them, hoping to god that their relationship lasts.

But like everything in life, they pass by. Leaving the night silent and judging as before. You sigh and open your mouth feeling the need to vent your problems to the night.

“I know our relationship is done, and we won't ever get back together again. But god, I regret forcing it to work. Maybe if we had just let it be…we would’ve lasted longer.” You rest your cheek in your hand and close your eyes. “But that's just wishful thinking.”

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you too

Both of these things can be true

There is happiness

In our history

Across our great divide

There is a glorious sunrise

Dappled with the flickers of light

From the dress I wore at midnight

Leave it all behind

Oh, leave it all behind

Leave it all behind

And there is happiness

For the next few weeks your mind is surprisingly clear. You sell your old house and move into a little town on the edge of a forest. You explore the little village you landed yourself in, feeling more free than ever.

You walk back along the dirt path towards your house. You feel warmth on your hair and tilt it towards the setting sun, smiling softly for the first time in weeks.

Oh how you could stay here forever. And you will.

#sirius x reader #evermore collab #sirius black #sirius x reader drabble #sirius x reader angst #sirius x reader oneshot #sirius black x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader song fic

[kandoesfanfics-writes]

And I totally see 190 with mari and dick. But I've put in a lot of requests and i know each one takes a lot of your time and effort, so feel free to ignore me

This is my first attempt at Dickinette finished at like 2am. I hope I have served you all well.

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

Dick was extremely worried about the petite young lady at the end of the bar.

The dark haired girl had been drinking by herself for about an hour, and the longer she sat there, the sadder she appeared. Her eyes were dim, focused on the drink in front of her. Her skin was flushed, most likely from the alcohol. She was wearing a pink babydoll dress that accented her delicate curves. She had white stockings and black ballet flats. Her hair was loose, cascading past her shoulders.

She looked so sad.

Dick sighed deeply side eyeing Wally and Roy. The two red-heads were laughing and downing their own drinks. It looked like those two were already well on their way to being wasted. Dick was a little irritated as it had been his best friends’ idea to take him out drinking. It was supposed to help him get over Starfire…

The Tameranean had broke up with Dick a few months ago. The man was mostly over it, but it still stung. They’d been dating since they were teenagers. They used to get along almost perfectly, but things had changed as they grew up. Dick was no longer Robin. Dick was Nightwing now, and with the new mantle came new problems.

Starfire herself was dealing with her own developing issues as a member of the Tamaranean royal family. Kor’i refused to abandon her responsibilities, and Dick could respect that. She knew Dick wouldn’t abandon his responsibilities either, so that spelt the end for their relationship. Kor’i told him she would always treasure their time together, and that he would always be one of her best friends.

She’d left for Tameran shortly afterword.

Wally and Roy had gotten tired of Dick’s moping, so they had dedicated the last few weeks to pulling him out of his funk. This was the fifth bar this week, and Dick was getting exasperated. He had let himself be sad, and now he was accepting what was and began to move on. He appreciated his friends for wanting to cheer him up, but Dick did need some alone time.

Which brought him back to the little lady at the end of the bar.

She was all alone and appeared to be intoxicated. She was vulnerable and attracting attention. A few men had bought her drinks, though she hadn’t touched them, ordering her own instead. Dick was relieved to see she still had that much sense, but the more she drank, the more men that gathered around her. It made Dick’s instincts scream at him to do something, anything, to help her.

Dick decided to go over and invite her to sit with them. If she turned that down, Dick would volunteer to order her an Uber to take her home. He just couldn’t leave her sitting at the end of the bar by herself with the wolves waiting to devour her. Dick noted that neither Roy nor Wally noticed him slipping away, so he grabbed his jacket and walked over to her.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a small smile. “...are you doing okay?”

The woman turned, and Dick felt his breath catch in his throat. Her eyes were a gorgeous slate grey filled with unshed tears. She had a cute button nose with a splattering of light freckles across the bridge. She was frowning, petal pink lips drawn thin as if she were trying not to burst out crying. He saw the tears begin to build up as she looked at him once before biting, “Do people go to a bar if they’re okay?”

Dick winced, but tried not to take it personally. She was clearly upset about something, and he was certain all the extra male attention wasn’t making her mood any better. She probably just wanted to be left alone to drown her sorrows in peace. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t how Gotham worked. A pretty lady like her drinking alone could only spell disaster.

“Well, my two buddies are here, and their lives are most certainly fine,” he said, pointing a finger to the two intoxicated red-heads. “They dragged me here because they think I’m miserable.”

“Why would they think that?” she said, her accent coming out.

Huh, so she was French? That would explain why she didn’t seem to realize how dangerous Gotham was.

“My girlfriend and I broke up. We’d been dating since we were around fourteen,” Dick answered honestly. “Kor’i had family problems, and I had my own responsibilities. In the end, it just didn’t work out. I was sad for a little bit, but she was right. We couldn’t compromise...I just miss her. She’d been a constant presence in my life for the better part of seven years, after all.”

That seemed to reach the woman, who had now put her glass of wine down. She was no longer looking at him with hostility, but something else. It wasn’t a look of pity. Dick knew the difference between looks of pity and genuine empathy. The dark haired woman rubbed her arms before gesturing to the open seat next to her. She then smiled bitterly at him before sighing, “Love sucks, doesn’t it? My boyfriend never loved me for me. He cheated on me.”

Dick looked apologetic as he sat down next to her. He held out his hand and said, “Richard, it’s nice to meet you. My friends call me Dick.”

Her delicate hand reached out to grab his. Dick marveled at how small her fingers were in comparison to his. They were soft, but definitely did not lack strength. Her handshake was surprisingly firm for such a small woman.“Marinette,” she said. “I don’t have any friends.”

“I doubt that,” Dick replied. “Everyone has friends.”

“Not me.”

Dick lifted his hand to get the bartender’s attention. He ordered a glass of semi-dry red wine and took a sip.

“Like I said already, my buddies brought me here. The red-head who looks like he could toss a man is Roy. His adopted father and my adopted father are business rivals, so we hung out a lot growing up. The other red-head who’s giggling like a nut is Wally. He’s a real jokester, but he’s one of the most reliable friends I have,” he said. “I’m currently working at Wayne Enterprises, but I’m trying to get a different job.”

“Don’t like it there?” Marinette asked softly.

“...I had a fight with my adopted father,” he admitted with a shrug. “It’s his company…”

“So you don’t want to work there any more,” she said with a firm nod. “That’s understandable. I left Paris to get away.”

“Away from what?”

Marinette seemed to glance anxiously at him before tossing her wine glass back and chugging the contents. Once she was done, she began to tell him about her life in Paris. She started with explaining that her parents, while loving and supportive individuals, had given her freedom to the point of neglect as a child. She told him that she still loved her parents and knew they loved her, but that was the reason she’d had such a hard time asking them for help with things.

Marinette moved on to discuss how she’d had a few friends growing up as a child. She told him that she realized that she’d had fewer friends than she thought when a girl named Lila Rossi came to her lycee. The young woman went on to discuss how things had gotten terrible. Most of her friends had turned their back on her the second this Lila girl began spreading her lies. There had been only a handful of people who knew the girl was lying.

That had caused so much on strain on many of her relationships in which was only made worse by how much work Marinette was doing. Marinette had been her class’s president which was a lot of work. Her one friend had quit as her deputy after being pulled in by this Lila girl’s lies. This had left Marinette alone to do all of the work for her class.

“Not to mention all my commissions, things were goddamn nightmare,” Marinette said, quietly thanking the bartender for her new glass of wine. “Commissions? Are you an artist?” Dick asked.

Marinette seemed to light up at that.

“I’m actually a budding fashion designer!” she said brightly. “I’ve been doing it since I was young. I actually made the dress I’m wearing right now.”

Dick’s eyes scanned her dress more closely this time.

“That’s really impressive,” Dick said. “That looks like hand stitching! The embroidery on the neckline is gorgeous. Did you really sew this all by hand?”

Marinette nodded excitedly, telling Dick it had taken her only a few days to make. She went on to discuss how she’d been trying to establish her brand in the United States for a few months, but progress had been slow.

“I love designing and creating things,” Marinette said sweetly.

“Really? I’d love to see some more of your designs! Do you just design women’s dresses or do you make more?” he asked.

Marinette suddenly went very quiet. Her grip on her drink tightened before her eyes welled up with tears once again. The tears began to drip down her cheeks as her body began to tremble. She sniffed a few times before chugging the rest of her wine. It took everything in her not to slam the glass down on the counter as all the emotions she’d tried to suppress came rushing to the surface.

“...what did I do wrong?”

Dick felt himself start to panic as he saw the woman’s reaction. He hadn’t meant to make her cry! He was supposed to be making her feel better! He rushed to try and think of a way to change the subject when she asked her question. He watched in horror as she began to dissolve into tears, reaching out gently to touch her arm.

“...what did I do wrong? I did everything he’d asked of me. I was honest. I never cheated. I never—” she cried. “Why couldn’t he love me for me?”

The dark haired man gently scooched his chair closer to Marinette. He then wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a show of support. He listened to her cry, feeling his own anger stirring. He was enraged to think that her model would date her just because he figured out she was someone he looked up to! If he didn’t love Marinette as herself, why would he want to date her after learning she was a famous designer?

“Honestly, sounds like you didn’t do anything wrong,” Dick said quietly. “To me it simply sounds like this guy was a complete idiot who wouldn’t know a good, talented woman if one bit him in the ass.”

Marinette’s grey eyes darted to him, searching for any dishonesty. When she found none, she smiled weakly and thanked him for trying to make her feel better. Wiping her eyes, she told Dick that she was going to go home and sleep the alcohol off. As she moved to get up, Marinette wobbled unsteadily and had to grasp Dick for support.

“I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought,” she whispered, her cheeks turning bright red.

Dick simply smiled at her before draping his coat over Marinette. He stood up and gently guided her away from the bar and out into the cool Gotham air. He noted how she shivered, pulling closer to him before mumbling, “Don’t like the cold.”

“C’mon Nettie, I’ll get you a ride home—”

“Don’t wanna go back.”

“Nettie—”

“He’s there.”

This made the man stop. The guy she was avoiding was at her place of residence? Did they live together? What was she going to do now? Marinette was clearly drunk and vulnerable. What would happen if she went back home and this douchebag was still there? It made Dick’s skin crawl, so he decided to choose the lesser of two evils.

He fished out his phone and dialed a number he was secretly hoping he’d never have to call again.  Dick nearly breathed out a sigh of relief when a welcomingly familiar voice answered the phone.

“...hey Alfred...it’s Dick. Is Bruce out?”

“Why yes, Master Dick. He took Jason out this evening.”

“...could you come pick us up? I ran into an old friend, and she got pretty drunk. I’m afraid to send her home by herself.”

“Of course, Master Dick. Shall I set up a room for you as well?”

Dick could hear the hopefulness in Alfred’s voice as he added that Jason would probably like to see him as well. Dick gritted his teeth but wasn’t able to answer before Marinette’s sweet voice asked him who Jason was. One he’d told her who Jason was, Marinette got a very firm look on her face.

“You should stay. This Bruce might be a big idiot, but the little boy has nothing to do with it. Are you really going to be mean to the little boy who looks up to you because you’re mad at someone else? Because that doesn’t seem right at all. What did little Jason ever do to you?”

He would have laughed if he hadn’t been so shocked. Marinette had been an inconsolable sobbing mess only moments before. Now she was spitting out wisdom like she was freaking Buddah. He had to admit she had a point though. His problem was solely with Bruce, and Jason didn’t have anything to do with it. Jason hadn’t done anything to warrant the kind of treatment Dick had been giving him.

“...I’ll stay, Alfred. Only for Jason. I refuse to talk to Bruce.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Master Dick. Jason could use the help of someone experienced in dealing with Master Bruce,” the relief was clear in his voice. “I’ll come get you, and then set up your rooms.”

“You’re experienced there too, you know?”

“Yes, Master Dick… but I’m not a young man, and I’m not Master Bruce’s son like you are. I firmly believe he’ll relate to you better.”

Dick mentally agreed, but thanked Alfred and hung up the phone. He turned his attention back to Marinette, whose grey eyes were watching him closely. She looked almost lost as if she didn’t know what to do now. He could see the anxiety coming back to her expression and quickly asked her what was wrong.

“Should I really come over if you’re having issues with him? I don’t want to make things worse—”

“Nettie, you’re fine. Just stick close, and I’ll keep you warm and safe until Alfred gets here. Then you can go to sleep in a safe place,” Dick said firmly. “I’ll work things out with Jason. Bruce is just being stubborn and refusing to admit he’s wrong. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy.”

Marinette’s drunken mind seemed to crash.

She could vaguely remember him using the nickname before, but it hadn’t hit her until just then. Dick was calling her Nettie. Dick had given her a nickname. Dick was offering her a safe place to stay. Dick was standing here, making sure she was safe and warm while his friends were still drinking inside. Dick had left his friends to see if she was okay…

Her face, already slightly flushed from the alcohol, got redder as she locked eyes with the enchanting man next to her. She’d made a mental note of him before, dark hair and blue eyes, but now she was looking at him closely. He had beautiful cheekbones and eyes that carried a mischievousness to them. A smile always seemed to be tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he was stronger than Marinette originally thought

He was muscular, but not in the way one who lifts a lot of weights would be. He had muscles more like… a dancer.

Marinette got so tangled up in her thoughts she didn’t notice the limo pull up beside them. It wasn’t until Dick began gently guiding her to the door that Marinette even realized the car was there. Time blurred for her after that as she let Dick take care of her. The last thing she’d be able to recall the next day was an elderly man showing her a room, and plopping herself onto the bed.

Dick had come to wake her up the next morning with some ibuprofen and water.

He’d smiled at her the same way he had when he greeted her at the bar. It still made her feel weak and brought a small smile of her own to her face. Dick had then talked to her about the previous night’s events, and what had happened. He told her not to worry about crashing at the manor as he himself hadn’t felt comfortable sending her back home. He then offered his assistance in either kicking her boyfriend out of her home or helping her relocate.

“Why would you do that?” she asked quietly. “Why do you even care?”

“Because I’m your friend, Nettie.”

“Why?”

“...because right now, we could both use a good friend,” Dick said softly. “One that listens to me instead of dragging me out to bars. One that tells me to shut up and man up when I’m wrong. You may not remember it, but you set me straight last night. I’m going to talk to Jason. Fighting with Bruce or not, he still adopted Jason which makes him my little brother. I shouldn’t take my anger out on him.”

Marinette’s eyes widened as she set the glass of water down beside her.

“I did that?” she murmured.

“Yeah, you did. You could also use someone who isn’t going to use you for money or fame. You seemed really nice, and it sounds like a lot of people took that for granted or abused it. That’s not fair to you,” he added. “So what do you say? Are we at least friends?”

As Dick held his hand out to Marinette, her face began to heat up. She managed to keep herself together long enough to shake his hand, a shy smile appearing on her face. She felt her heart thud in her chest as the man with sky-blue eyes smiled the most perfect smile at her.

Sure...they could be friends for now.

#dickinette #maribat #kan writes some things #kan answers an ask #mlb/dc crossover #don't like don't read #our girl is aged up to be the same age as him #so everyone cool your damn jets