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#((i only slept for like three hours so i should probably. . .do that some more. . . .))
Note
I have an request for you- is it alright if you do an fanfic where the brothers, dateables, and even the new characters get turned into toddlers? And now (mc) had to care of them? But Luke turns into a baby. A really fluffy, motherly thing? Idrk it's my first time requesting from you- it's alright if you don't want to do it though! :D -chickechee 🐥
when they turn into toddlers
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includes: barbatos & gn!reader, & everyone else (no pronouns mentioned)
rated g | wc: .5k | m.list
a/n: oml this was so cute i hope you enjoy!! i have more baby!luke here as well. my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come say hi <33
reblogs are greatly appreciated
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“oh my god!” you look around the room in horror. “what the hell happened?”
barbatos looks like he hasn't slept in a week. it’s only been a few hours since the initial incident. “what always does,” he answers tiredly, shifting toddler–yes, toddler!–diavolo to his other hip. “someone touched some cursed relic they weren’t supposed to and the effect was disastrous.”
“that’s one word for it,” you murmur. everyone, except for you and barbatos, had regressed into children. infants, even. barbatos had made quick use of the castle’s nursery, left over from one of the previous rulers, and turned it into something daycare-esque, thankfully providing a safe space for them all to be that would keep them out of harm's way, as well as trouble.
as you watch, mammon rises onto shaky legs, making his way over to levi, who’s playing with blocks. “oh please tell me he’s not going to do what i think he’s going to do,” you moan.
“he’s going to do exactly what you think he’s going to do,” barbatos replies, and sure enough, in one deliberate movement, mammon knocks over all of levi’s hard work. immediately, levi begins to scream, startling mammon, who falls back onto the padded ground and begins to cry himself.
“oh, shush.” moving more on instinct, you scoop levi up, patting his back gently. “you’ll be alright, honey.”
he quiets, staring at your face. you wonder if he recognizes you. mammon is still crying, so you set levi back down and move on to comforting him.
“that wasn’t very nice, now, was it?” you ask gently. “let’s not knock over other’s towers, okay?”
he sniffles, rubbing at his eyes with tiny fat baby hands, and it’s just the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. when you go to set him down, he holds tight, and you realize that apparently, he was just as clingy as a toddler as he is now. wonderful.
shifting him to one side, you take stock of everyone else, making sure there are no immediate concerns. simeon, rapheal, and lucifer are sitting together, coloring (and jesus christ you’re going to need to pull out your camera right now), diavolo is still in barbatos’ capable grasp, beel and belphie are napping quietly in a pile of blankets, solomon is telling something to asmo and satan in incomprehensible toddler speech, and mephisto and thirteen are busy playing on their own. you spy a crib in the corner, which must hold luke, who barbatos had said had regressed into an infant rather than a toddler.
“you’re good with children,” barbatos observes, and you sigh.
“i always did like them. i spent my teenage years as a babysitter and camp counselor so i have some experience under my belt,” you explain. “so are you, by the way.” you’ve long stopped being surprised by the fact that barbatos is skilled at literally everything.
“yes, well, it helps that they’re a bit better behaved like this than when they are normally,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. against your shoulder, mammon echoes your laugh, then sticks his fingers in his mouth. eh, he’s got a demon’s immune system, he’ll be fine.
“how much longer are they going to stay like this?” you ask, and barbatos shrugs.
“probably two or three more hours,” he says.
“just enough time to have to give them lunch while they’re like this,” you say with a slow-dawning horror. “which should be super easy and not difficult or tiring at all.”
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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selfindulgentpixies · 8 months
Text
Soothing words and decaf
Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Geto one shot
When nightmares wake you up once again your boyfriends decide they can't just leave you to sit up alone. Gn!reader, reader wears glasses and has bad eyesight, not stated where in the timeline this is. It's an AU where Suguru never left though. This is really just to comfort myself because my nightmares have been bad lately and making sleep super difficult. It why i've been slow on writing stuff because i'm tired a lot. Also i couldn't decide on just one of them for this comfort fic and needed to be doted on by both. Pls excuse any typos or mistakes
You wake with a start, a stuttering in your chest and a choked gasp. You gaze blearily up at the ceiling, your current location slowly invades your senses and pushes away the personal hell your subconscious  had been creating for you. There’s warm breath fanning over the crown of your head. It would probably be ruffling your bangs if not for the fact they were plastered to your forehead by the sweat. You glance to your right and see that at some point in his sleep Satoru had decided you were his personal teddy bear. Your eyes then drift to the left and you jolt slightly to find that Suguru is blinking back at you with a combination of tiredness and concern. 
“Another one?” He asks, voice low and thick with sleep. This had unfortunately become routine.
You go to speak and nothing comes out the first try but upon clearing your throat slightly and trying again you let out a small. “Yeah.. Go back to sleep, Sugu.” 
He huffs a little at your words and how you begin to try and wiggle out of Satoru’s arms without waking him. An impossible task given that all three of you weren’t what anyone could call heavy sleepers. Trauma will do that afterall. So it’s unsurprising when Satoru grumbles and tightens his grip on you. “You should take your own advice.” Satoru’s voice is just as gravely as Suguru’s and when you glance up you see him peering down at you with his impossibly bright eyes. 
“You know I can’t do that… Let me up and the two of you can get some sleep.” You scoot up to a sitting position, Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist making your task of reaching over him to the side table to get your glasses a far harder task than it needed to be. You whine and flop on him. Fine you’d just be blind. You wiggle down and under his arm, surprised he allowed you to do so as you slide to the end of the bed to get up. 
You didn’t feel like giving Satoru a chance to change his mind about letting you go so you don’t walk past him to get your glasses and instead just pad your way into the kitchen. Your shared apartment with the two men was so familiar you could probably navigate it wearing Satoru’s blindfold. 
Once you’re close enough to the microwave to make out the little glowing numbers you let out a huff. It wasn’t even five am yet. You’d maybe managed to get four hours of sleep which was becoming painfully typical. Today would be another day of surviving off coffee and hopefully slipping in a nap as soon as you got a chance. Your nightmares seemed to happen less when you slept during the day. 
You’re shuffling around the cupboards getting down what you need to make coffee when you hear quiet foot falls, perhaps near silent for someone else but your ears were sensitive and seemingly more so when you chose to mostly forgo being able to see. Anything beyond a couple feet away from you losing all clarity and blurring around the edges. Impressions of objects you only recognized based on familiarity.
Well mostly. “That’s the sea salt, love.” Suguru whispers against the shell of your ear as he takes the long cylindrical container from your hand to place back on the shelf and then grabs a very similar but not identical container that houses the sugar. 
You grumble. “Why do we even keep them next to eachother on the shelf?” Suguru’s hair tickling your neck makes you twitch slightly but you don’t brush it or him away as he leans over you, enveloping you in his warmth, resting his chin on your head as he bends at the waist and wraps his arms around your middle.
“Normally you’re wearing your glasses and can tell the difference.” there’s the smallest hint of amusement to his voice. 
You sigh. That was true. It annoys you but it’s true. You rock back on your heels and lean into his chest. “Really you should get more sleep. Go cuddle with Satoru, I’m sure he’s lonely trying to sleep alon-”
A loud yawn cuts through the kitchen as Satoru walks in. “Too late, already here.” 
“Seriously you both should-” 
“If we should be sleeping so should you. So either you come back to bed with us, or we’re all starting our day at this ungodly hour.” You feel Suguru’s jaw moving against the top of your head as he talks. 
You frown deeply, slouching in his hold. “I… can’t sleep okay? If i go back to sleep it’ll probably just start again.” 
Suguru hums and rocks the both of you back and forth. “Then it sounds like we’re all getting up then, right Satoru? “ He turns you both so you’re facing Satoru who’s much closer now.
Another yawn. “Sounds about right.” And as he says this he places your glasses on your face, bringing his own into focus for you. Satoru is beautiful as always but definitely looks like he needs more sleep. But you know very well how stubborn both he and Suguru are, they’re worse than you are. 
You cave. “Fine, stay up if you want then.” You wanted to sound petulant but instead you just sound tired. Suguru Squeezes you before rising to his full height and releasing you. “Go relax, I’ll make the coffee.” 
Before you can respond he gives you a small nudge in Satoru’s direction who doesn’t give you time to protest as he scoops you up and carries you toward the plush living room couch. He flops both of you down before rolling you so he’s squishing you into the plush fabric. “Satoruuuu-” You try to protest as he nuzzles into your neck. If you were more awake you might have caught on to what the two men were doing since in the kitchen Suguru put away the regular coffee and switched it out for decaf before brewing it. They still had some hope of lulling you back to sleep and caffeine wasn’t part of that. They knew you well enough that you likely just needed to be soothed and given time to get out of your head so you could be directed back to bed. 
“Mmm don’t want to cuddle me?” He pouts at you.
“You’re squishing me, you big menace!” 
The two of you go back and forth, you sinking back into the couch and giving Satoru his way despite complaining when what feels like suddenly Suguru is there holding two mugs of coffee and judging by the heap of whipcream on the third mug a cup of hot chocolate for Satoru. He kicks one of Satoru’s legs. “Move over and quit crushing them. “ 
Satoru grunts and starts to complain until he looks At Suguru and spots the mug topped with whipcream. He sits up quickly, suddenly looking angelic which earns a sigh from both you and the long haired man. You sit up and give Suguru a grateful smile as he passes you one of the steaming mugs. “Thank you, Sugu.” 
“Of course.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead. He gets you to scoot over slightly and as you often do you find yourself squished between the two men. You didn’t need to be squished, the couch was big enough, Satoru just seemed dead set on not moving further than he had to. 
You don’t really talk as you quietly sip at your coffee, instead listening to Satoru and Suguru talk about the upcoming day, voices low and soothing. You hardly notice when your mug is pulled from your hands and placed on the coffee table before you can spill the remnants of your drink on your lap. You blink rapidly realizing you’ve been completely zoned out only now to have Satoru’s face directly in yours. It’s brief because the next thing you know he’s picked you up for the second time that night, or rather morning. “Satoru-” You cut off in a yawn and wrap your arms around his shoulders, body shaking slightly with a stretch. 
“I think it’s time we head back to bed. Suguru and I have been talking to you and you haven’t even noticed,” he says amusement clear in his voice. You can hear Suguru in the background putting your mugs in the sink before following the two of you.
“Mm sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, your glasses being pushed askew though you couldn’t care less. You feel more than hear Satoru laugh. And it feels like in the next blink he’s laying you back in bed, and gently slipping your glasses off before crawling in after you, wrapping you in his arms. It’s only a couple moments later that Suguru follows. A rough warm hand sliding under your sleep shirt to splay over your stomach. 
You’re finally back asleep then, safely tucked between the two of them where no harm can come to you, even if your dreams make you feel otherwise. The two of them will always be there to remind you that you’re safe.
@nanamikentoseyebags @strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy
@gojoest
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kiragecko · 5 months
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A few weeks ago, I flew to visit my grandma with my little brother and sister. My little brother had never been on a plane, and my sister only has once, almost a decade ago. It was an experience.
All three of us are in our 30s and neurodivergent¹. My little brother has Down’s Syndrome² and is probably autistic. He communicates mostly through echolalia³.
I suspected there might be challenges, so I tried to contact the airline before purchasing tickets. This did NOT work. The Westjet agents weren’t allowed to discuss anything with me until I had booked a flight. I was purchasing nonrefundable tickets. The website was quite clear that they could kick us from the plane if they couldn’t support our needs. And they wouldn’t tell me if they could support our needs!
I ended up calling around 8 times. Finally, after purchasing tickets and jumping through all the hoops, someone was willing to talk. They mostly said that everything was up to the people letting us on to the flight, but at least they talked to me!
My main concern was the pacing. My brother’s favourite activity is pacing in circles and repeating movie/song quotes to himself. Once we got on the plane things would be fine (we had movies for him to watch), but I was concerned that other passengers waiting to board would find this stressful. Like - that isn’t our problem, it’s their’s - but flying is hard! If there was a way for us to not add more stress, I wanted to find it!
The airline was zero help, so we did our best to prepare on our own. My uncle died the day before the trip, and that increased stress levels. My autistic sister was dealing with that, a sense of responsibility for my brother, and also anxiety about a mostly-new experience (flying).
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And then the plane gets delayed.
By an hour, at first.
The airline said we should be there TWO HOURS early for domestic flights. Which is ridiculous. TWO HOURS??? Especially since everything before security can now be done online? But we obediently turn up two hours before the new flight time, and are immediately directed to the priority security line. Which is good. Even the short line is boring for my brother, and I can’t let him pace in the few open spaces. But ten minutes later we’re at our gate, ready to leave.
Now we just have to wait for an hour and fifty minutes!
We had hoped my brother would want to watch his first movie. But he's riled up from lines and crowds and gets right to pacing. A few people have to slow down as they pass, but he’s not hurting anyone, so I let him be.
I’m more worried about my sister, now. She lives with the aunt that found my uncle. She hasn’t slept in days, worrying about the trip. She isn’t handling the noise and crowds. So I keep an eye on my brother (at least 50% to make sure he doesn’t take some of the chocolate he keeps eyeing when he passes the gift shop), occasionally ask if he wants to watch a movie, and watch my sister slowly descend into a panic attack. Not fun. Eventually I send her to the bathroom, hoping that it will be quieter and she can calm down.
BUT! Events have happened during this time! The plane has been delayed another 15 minutes! It is explained that they have had to replace the plane with one they haven’t yet finished retrofitting. This new plane doesn’t have as much overhead baggage space. They need at least 15 pieces of carry-on luggage to be checked. If the passangers aren’t willing to do this, there will be large delays once loading starts, as people are FORCED to check their luggage. Also, there’s no first class on the new plane. Or charging ports. Or meals. Or in-flight entertainment. First class passengers can request some money back. And if anyone misses their connecting flight due to the delays, tickets to their new flights will be provided upon landing.
People start to get tired and stressed. The intercom keeps threatening them. Now it’s 30 bags that need to be checked. Delays will be even longer if this doesn’t happen!
At this point, security shows up. They ask if anyone will take responsibility for the pacing guy. I do. They show visible discomfort with the situation, and his disability. Can I make him stop pacing? I can try, but probably not. Please do that, it is bothering the other passengers. Oh? Really?? Who could have guessed that?!
My brother is NOT willing to sit down. We stand in the concourse, while I talk to him about sitting down and he makes annoyed sounds at me. I’m not about to force him. I don’t want us to get kicked out of the airport, but can they do that for something as minor as acting weird in public? Mostly, I’m worried about all our electronics, which I abandoned in the open when security showed up. I’m not sure if security will try something with my brother if I leave him to pace while I clean things up.
And now, the hero shows up. The head of security has been called, and he comes over and asks me if there’s anything my brother needs. No, there isn’t, he’s quite happy to pace. It’s everyone else that is being bothered.
“I don’t care about them. He has just as much right to this space as they do. I just want to make sure you guys have everything you need. Would he like a sensory package?”
He wouldn’t like a sensory package, but this guy’s offer of the chapel as a quiet space IS interesting. Mostly because my sister is off in sensory shut-down somewhere, and needs a quiet space. But also because I could relax a little nobody would be watching us, and I could relax if my brother had an enclosed room to pace in. (No chocolates!)
As I’m agreeing to this, my sister returns. Head of Security respectfully tries to explain the situation to her. I look at her hunched body language and tell him to just talk to me. Then I send her to pack up our stuff. He wants to Include Her. She really, really does not want to be included.
He also wants to Include my brother. It’s kind of cute. He’s overflowing with good intentions, but obviously hasn’t had a lot of chance to put them into practice yet. He’s incredibly respectful, but in ways that would work a bit better for people who are more interested in their own decision making than my brother. I’m charmed.
Another person shows up. She is introduced as the Accessibility Specialist, and we are asked if we’re okay with her support. Oh yes, I am very okay with this. After she gets caught up - and she reiterates that everyone else can suck it, my brother is allowed to inhabit this space how he wishes - we get ready to head for the chapel. But the plane is about to land. There probably isn’t enough time to transition there and then back. So instead, we all wait around and listen to our two heroes conspire.
Accessibility Specialist has had the job for a month. Or, at least, she's been PAID to do this job for a month. She's been doing it unofficially much longer. She has IDEAS. So that’s where all the unpolished We Respect Everyone energy is coming from. Head of Security is one of her co-conspirators!
In-between plotting, Accessibility Specialist asks me questions. She hears about the amount of phonecalls, and the unsatisfactory answers. The complete lack of support. The fact that I had told the airline that this exact situation was likely to happen, and then got security called on us anyways. She tells me that this information is very helpful. Her plans will benefit from specific examples.
She tells me how unsatisfactory it is to have to send people to the chapel. They're pushing for a quiet room. I agree that this would have been helpful. My brother would probably have been calmer in a quiet space, which would have helped us AND reduced the stress for others. (Also, both me and my sister would have benefited from the quiet. But I didn’t say that.)
In all the commotion, I’ve forgotten to talk to the boarding people about priority boarding. But Accessibility Specialist is on the ball! We stand off to the side, behind a rope, while the plane disembarks. (My brother starts off pacing RIGHT in the way of the disembarkment, so sneaking into the roped off area is a good idea.) We’re going to be the very first ones to board, even before the people in wheelchairs. I pray that my brother is willing to walk onto the plane – he hasn’t been willing to follow me since we got out of security.
The boarding people are on their best behaviour. They make a special trip over to us to scan our tickets. They send someone down the ramp to check on the plane’s status. We are now VIPs. And we seem to have made the Accessibility Specialist’s day. She is so SMUG as she whispers with the Head of Security!
They ask if we’re okay with them accompanying us to the plane. Sure! I’m having a great time watching their excitement. It’s changed a very difficult experience into a pleasurable one. (For me. They are thankfully respecting my sister’s desire to be ignored. She is still not having fun. And my brother is pretty done with this experience. He’s found some quotes about ‘going home’ and ‘not doing this’ to share with me.)
Finally, we get the nod. My brother calmly follows us down the ramp. We get to the plane and are asked to pause for a moment while they finish moving some storage carts around. Seems reasonable to me, but Accessibility Specialist darts forward and takes photos, documenting SOMETHING. And then we get on the plane.
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The plane itself would have been great. My brother happily took a seat. Enjoyed looking out the windows. And was excited to watch Shrek. My sister relaxed. And I LOVE flying. But, sadly, electronics must be stowed during liftoff and landing. My brother did NOT take these unreasonable demands from me well. He eventually forgave me for the take-off misdemeanor, especially after I put on my own headphones and quoted the movie with him. But my sins at landing were too much. For half an hour after he left the airport, he kept repeating, “NO more flying!” and “Not like this!” Any comments about flying for the next day got his hackles up.
So, I won’t do that to him again. But it was a very interesting experience for me! I am glad I got to have it.
And if anyone has flown through Winnipeg’s Richardson International Airport⁴ in the last while, and wants to tell them about any good or bad accessibility experiences, I think there’s someone there that would appreciate it. I want to see what she can accomplish.
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PS. She’s also started a program where you can practice getting ready to board a plane! You sign up and they take you through the whole experience, from signing in to walking the boarding ramp. (Or, possibily, just whichever portion is concerning you.) I wish I had thought to contact the airport itself, rather than just contacting the airline and looking at the government’s resources. Good things are happening there.
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¹ neurodivergent – brain works in a non-typical way
² Down’s Syndrome – an intellectual disability
³ echolalia – communication by repeating/echoing things heard, either right after hearing them, or a long time later
⁴ Winnipeg is in Manitoba, Canada
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ms-demeanor · 2 years
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do you have any tips for cleaning a space? I’ve been frozen trying to clean my room for 4-5 months now and just spent 10 hours reading through your adulting blog et al. and most of your tips have been incredibly helpful (despite me being much more on the autistic than ADHD side of the venn diagram)
YES. YES I DO.
Hi. On top of the ADHD I also have some history of OCD, which primarily manifested in being a hoarder. Like. Clinically. Like towers of stuff in my room and piled on my bed so I slept on the couch. In retrospect, cleaning it up was a problem for a number of reasons, but one of those reasons was executive dysfunction and not knowing how to start cleaning.
Long story short the way that I did it was by finding something called "40 bags in 40 days" where the goal is to remove 40 bags of trash/donations from an area in 40 days. 40 bags in 40 days was initially created as a challenge for Lent and a bunch of the people who blog about it do so in a manner that is religious to an extent that I am uncomfortable with, and there's this weird bullet-journal thing where planning ends up becoming aesthetic and there are charts and shit but you can ignore all of that, here are the basics:
Start with a written plan
You are going to try to declutter while you do this
Limit your scope each day so you don't get overwhelmed
Remove things that you won't be keeping in the space immediately; don't leave piles of "throw away" or "to donate" or even "to keep and organize later" stuff in the room you are clearing
Give yourself a firm deadline/number of days to do this project
The written plan: Break the area you are cleaning down into manageable bite-sized chunks. When I was doing this I moved in a pattern for increasing access to the room, because I literally could not get further into the room without cleaning some parts first, so my first chunk was "the space between the door and the bed" and then it was "the surface of the bed" and then it was "the nightstand." People who aren't doing cleanups on quite as catastrophic a mess might focus on even smaller areas (make each drawer of a dresser an area, or a single jewelry box, or one shelf in a bookshelf). But the key is that you have to sit down *outside* of the room that you will be cleaning and make a list of places that you need to clean. Don't stand in the room and look at everything and get overwhelmed because there's so much, don't go in and actually try to clean, just make a list of areas that you think you can do in an hour or two. And make sure to actually write it down so that you can use the list to refocus yourself - it's super easy to drift when you're cleaning and to move into another area because you found something that belongs in that other area, but you need to clean the other area before you can put more stuff in it, but you can't. You are focused on ONLY the area you've written down that day.
Declutter as you go: Do whatever you need to do to sort stuff you're going to keep from stuff you're not going to keep, Konmarie spark joy sort or rainbow label or whatever sorting scheme works for you, but you should have three categories of stuff: keep, donate, throw away. The "bags" in "40 Bags in 40 Days" is supposed to be bags of stuff to donate or throw away, but I actually made another category of bag which was "keep for memory book."
One of my huge problems is that I want to keep tons and tons of little mementos and business cards and stickers and fliers and photos and wristbands from shows and the thing is, if you do that you eventually have a huge pile of what pretty much looks like trash. So what I did was I had gallon storage bags (see-through) and any time I ran into some weird little memento thing that I wanted to keep but that probably seemed like trash, I would put it in the storage bag. Eventually I ended up with ten bags full of that kind of stuff, which I set aside for later, and in the end I put that stuff into three fuck-off huge photo albums with self-stick pages. They aren't organized scrapbooks or anything, they're a bunch of bullshit arrayed together in a displayable form, but it is so much better to have these three huge books than a million tiny piles of paper that I don't know what to do with. I also have a pile of tee-shirts I cut the image off of that is in a bag to become a quilt someday, and I have some small decorative boxes for stuff that I didn't want to get rid of but didn't fit in the albums and that wouldn't really go on display shelves or anything like that.
My "keep for a memory book" bags were more key to decluttering than the trash or donation bags, because a LOT of stuff that I had was stuff that I wanted to keep but didn't have anywhere to put. I *still* make bags like this. I have three or four of them right now, one of which is JUST stuff like wristbands and drink passes and business cards and fliers from shows I did with my band. I just fill up the bags until I've got enough stuff to sit down and work on a memory book for a while, then I go through and stick stuff in the book for a few hours. Having someplace to put all that stuff has been a huge help to prevent me from ending up with the same kind of messy disaster that I had before. This is my personal biggest kind of clutter and isolating it in bags and books has been an enormous quality of life improvement for me.
Limit your scope each day: Cleaning is mentally exhausting, and looking at how much you have left to do or getting distracted by uncovering another area can murder your momentum, so limit the scope to just your area for the day. You aren't cleaning your room, you are cleaning the surface of your desk today. You aren't cleaning your room, you are cleaning the floor of your closet today.
If you're feeling up to it, you may be able to move through several areas on your list in one day - that happened to me a lot, and 40 days ended up becoming more like 15 days - if that happens, and you're up for it, feel free to move on to the next area. But you still should be limiting yourself to the areas in your list, not the room generally. Don't finish cleaning the bottom of the closet and then look up and go "I can clean this whole thing, actually", if you finish cleaning the bottom of your closet and feel like working on cleaning still, move on to the next area on your list instead of randomly attacking everything.
Remove stuff from the space that you're cleaning while you're cleaning it: take any full bag of trash or donations out right away, but also remove stuff that you need to reorganize later. For example: I had books on every surface in my room, but the book shelves were on the wall furthest from the door. Instead of trying to put every book I found on the shelf, I set aside books as I cleaned and took them out of the room so that I could put them on the shelves when I got to them, but wouldn't be tripping over them or dealing with seeing them as distressing visual clutter as I worked on other areas. It helps to have a designated space to do this, so if you live with roommates or family make sure to tell them about the project and designate an area where you will be placing stuff until the project is done; if you can't get that, then have one dedicated box/bin/area in your room that is the 'sort when i get to it' station, and add books/clothes/etc to it as needed.
Give yourself a firm deadline: I know that brains are weird and deadlines are sometimes fake and sometimes motivational, but this deadline is a combination of "promise to your housemates that this pile of stuff won't exist in the entryway forever" and "schedule so that I know that I'm not going to be doing this project for the next seven years." 40 days was the suggested schedule because it was originally a lent thing, but also because that's a reasonable number of chunks to clean up. If your room would work better as 10 chunks, it could be 10 days. I think that more days is probably better because it lets you make smaller areas to focus on, but you know your space best.
Also, be kind to yourself. There have been a number of times that I have gone through all the effort of cleaning and reorganizing a space only to sit down at the end and cry because it's too different and I don't like it. That's not me being unreasonable, that's me being stressed after a stressful process and I am not allowed to beat myself up about it. I'm not allowed to yell at myself for how bad I let my space get, I'm not allowed to call myself names or denigrate myself 'because an adult should be able to keep a tidy space.' Cleaning is stressful and facing your flaws is stressful so the very least that you can do is not add to that stress by topping it off with self-criticism. Other people may be critical of you in this process, and if they are my advice is to let them know that feeling bad about your room isn't going to help it get any cleaner, and that if they want you to keep cleaning they shouldn't make cleaning more of a painful process than it already is by making you feel bad about it.
Good luck! I hope this helps!
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rottingpirate · 1 year
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Hello!! Is there a second part to the cod MIA reader? If not could I request one? ♥️ :)
No, cause I completely forgot about it 😭
'm sorry, here you go broski
M.I.A. reader who comes back pt. 2
Warnings: typical CoD violence, human trafficking, some angst, kinda ooc
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Gaz
Gaz shot upright, gasping and sweaty, tangled up in his bedsheets. Another nightmare. No one else is in the room, no one but him and an empty space next to him. The sun was already shining bright and it slightly hurt his eyes.
Y/N should be here. It's been one week since you've been declared as MIA. So far, there had been no sign of you. No demands had been made, no threats, no body had been found…the silence was eating him alive. 
It was as though you had vanished completely, everyone knew that with each minute that passed, their chances of finding you deteriorated.
Knock knock. Captain Price came into his room. He takes a moment as he surveys the room before sitting down on the bed next to him. Gaz didn't have the patience to wait for him to start the conversation. "Did you find them?" His voice came out as hoarse, rough, probably cause he hasn't left his room in the past few days.
"Yes, we found them," He sounded relieved. Gaz' breathing stopped for a second, he started getting up to reach for his clothes, asking when were they leaving, until Price stooped him "but you're not coming."
"What? Why not? They're my partner."
Price pats him on the shoulder and shakes his head. "You have barely eaten in the past week. You haven't trained nor have you left your room...you need to sit this one out, kid." He wanted to protest. He couldn't stay in his bed and just wait, but the look his captain gave him made him shut up. "Okay...just- bring them back to me, please." Gaz let's out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. You're alive.
The rescue mission took a long time. Longer than Gaz would have liked. He was scared, scared of seeing the state you would be in. He didn't want to think about all the gory and bad images that swirled in his head.
Gaz was staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours and he didn't even realize how he drifted.
When he wakes up, his breath catches in his throat, you're standing there with that dump smile of yours. How long have you been standing there? He could instantly tell that you've been through a tough time, you looked a little bit thinner, your face was littered with bruises and Gaz didn't want to know how the rest of your body was doing. It seemed like you were already taken to the doctor, as you already had a cast on your arm and there seemed to be a lot less blood than he imagined there to be.
He wanted to jump up and hug, to kiss you all over and never let you go and he didn't even realize how he started crying.
You sat down next to him, pulling him into a gentle hug while telling him that everythings all right.
Price
“(Y/N)! (Y/N), please respond!”
Price’s tone was pleading, wanting nothing more than his partner to answer. But, the communications frequency was filled with static. “(Y/N), if you can hear me please, respond….fuck, please” He sounded defeated, the much needed response not coming through no matter how hard he tried to wish for it.
"(Y/N)?” Price’s voice was a low whisper in the end. But no matter how hard he was pleading. Begging. You were not responding.
"We’ll find (Y/N). They’re too stubborn to die,” Soap says, standing next to him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “And if they’re not?” “They’re just missing. We’ll find them,” He assures him. Remembering that only made Price’s heart hurt more. 
For three weeks he waited. Fot three weeks he hardly ate and slept. Three weeks of no messages.
Why Y/N? Why not me?
Y/N could be captured. They could be dead or hurt and waiting for help. You decades of experience under the belt, and the chances of you going down during a mission as simple as this one seem slim, but still possible.
Meanwhile...they took you to the other prisoners. The prisoners that you had to save. You felt deeply ashamed when you realized that he had completely and utterly failed. Completely failed.
It was dim and dirty in the little cell that you were held in.
In these three weeks you have grown a lot closer with the other prisoners. There were two girls, who were about your age and a boy, who was maybe around 17. You weren't physically hurt, but definetly weak. In these past few weeks you barely got any food, sleep, fresh air or water.
141 launched a rescue mission couple days after you went missing, but nothing turned up. But this time, they might have a lead. An old warehouse in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't heavily guarded, and their squad would definetly be able to get past them. He couldn't focus as they began planning the rescue. All he could think of was rushing ahead, jumping in the plane, taking every bastard who had touched you down with his bare hands. 
When they arrived Price was anything but his usual professional self, he came in he stormed through the pile of bodies littering the corridors of whatever this building was, firing shots at anyone not in a guard’s uniform. 
"Found them! Found Y/N!" Ghost shouted through the comms and Price sprinted through the hallways to the location Soap was at.
Price quickly helped you up, while the rest of 141 took care of the other people that were there with you. You were unsteady on your feet as you tried walking to the car. Price suggested he'd carry you, but you protested, telling him that it's okay and you can walk on you own.
Price swore that he would love, protect and be there for you for as long as he lived. There was nothing in this life he wanted more. Nothing was more important than you in this moment.
834 notes · View notes
aliveinacoffin · 9 months
Note
Hello. Can i please request a part 2 of Hating You As Well? It was so good! 😩 Can part 2 be Aizawa’s and readers relationship developing and getting better throughout the year or something? Maybe throw in some aizawa getting a little jealous over reader’s relationship/friendship with another hero (maybe midnight or snipe)? Thank you so much! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write a part 2! xx
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AAAHH I LOVE YOU GUYS FR 😭😭😭 and but of course, i live and breath to serve yall munchkins.
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Hating You As Well
(And Loving You Just As Much)
Part One, Part Two (you're here dummy), Part Three
Aizawa still isn't honest with his feelings, but you weren't exactly one to jump ship and demand a relationship. So now, in this grey area, you two are forced to co-exist, while other feelings grow and fester.
Fem!Reader, She/Her pronouns
TW!: Slight descriptions of violence, nothing too crazy, suggestive language
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You two didn't speak about what happened on the couch afterward. You not wanting to bring it up and him just avoiding you. You got most of your papers graded, and when Aizawa finished with his portion, he rushed out of the living room. Your heart dropped to your stomach, watching him leave without a word. Sighing, you went back to your papers, trying to just get them done.
___________________________________________
The next morning was silent, the night before Aizawa hadn't come out of his room at all, and you watched his door, trying to listen to what he was doing. The next morning, you hadn't slept in, getting up early to go on a run. You knew Aizawa wouldn't be awake at this hour, but he probably would soon. So you started a large pot of coffee and grabbed a sports drink and made your way out.
The wait in the elevator was tedious, but you took the time to adjust yourself. Thinking about your life, thinking about him. Did you really like Aizawa? Maybe (yes), but did he like you? Maybe? I mean, there would be no other reason for him to also lean into a kiss, the feeling of his strong and large hand haunted you, fingers reaching around your shoulder blades. Dammit Hizashi, you spitefully thought to yourself.
But what would've come from it? Would there have been an awkward moment of 'where do we go from here?' or would there be an admission of feelings, but what feelings? Would there have been an unspoken moment of understanding?
You shook your head, willing away unnecessary thoughts. The elevator doors dinged open, and you happily trotted out, all you needed was an early morning run to clear your head, and everything would be fine.
___________________________________________
Okay everything was not fine.
When you came back, very sweaty and gross from your jog, you should work out more damn, Aizawa was already up. The slut* was walking around with absolutely no shirt on, and only the tightest goddamn pair of black boxers ever. His defined and scarred body on full display, lean but built body, languidly lounging around in the light morning sun. His dark and long hair was up in a messy bun, with a few strands of hair falling out. The scar beneath his eye was on full display, only adding to that rugged and overtly masculine look.
Cheap shot you bitch.
He was sipping coffee while leaning on one of the kitchen counters. Oddly on the one that faced the front door. He watched you pant in, immediately going to the cupboards to fill yourself a glass of water. You felt his eyes watching you, felt them watch and analyze every curve and scar, every dip and bump, every beauty and imperfection. You downed your cup, not acknowledging him in the slightest, lest you show the effect he had on you. Neither of you said a word to the other, not even a head nod to show that you had seen the other. Just ignoring him for the time being, with no complaints on the other end.
At the staff meeting later that day, you happily sat by Hizashi, joining in his excited chatter.
"I know this sounds cheesy, but I can't wait to see the students come back again! I've missed them." Hizashi swooned, a sad puppy dog look on his face.
You laughed and opened your mouth to join into his lighthearted admission before another voice cut you off.
"I don't, the little bastards have already gotten in enough trouble. I can't imagine what it'll be like when they move in." Aizawa grumbled out, looking in front of him with a disgruntled look.
You and Hizashi froze, just staring at him for a moment. He usually sat on the other side of you 'loudmouths,' usually too tired to deal with the shenanigans that you, said blonde, and Nemuri got up into. (Usually just passing notes between all three of you with the smashabiltiy of your coworkers and other heroes (also dicks, but not from the person you'd think)) So it was shocking to see him willingly sitting next to you three while earning a death glare from Anan, whose spot he'd stolen.
"Don't act like you don't love them you Tsundere. You'd probably eat your arm if it meant they were happy." You teased, sighing while you poked at him.
He deadpanned you for using such an outdated term but just grumbled while hiding his face in his scarf. Hizashi elbowed you, wiggling his eyebrows at you while smirking. You were confused for a second before you realized what he was implying, hitting his arm to make him stop. He yelped, angrily muttering curses at you while he looked down. Principle Nedzu loudly cleared his throat, standing up straight while looking at all of you. He clapped his soft hands, signing the beginning of the meeting.
___________________________________________
Well that meeting was a waste of your time. All the meeting was about how we should pay a little more attention to the students now that we're all in dorms. Those who work at night, namely Hizashi, Aizawa, Nemuri, etc., were asked to make sure they don't sneak out and do room checks randomly. Heroes who work in the day, you, Anan, Ken, and others were asked to make sure students acted right during the day, and stayed inside school property. Simple enough but...
"That could've just been an email." Nemuri sighed, peeling off her mask and putting her hair up. Ken was doing the opposite, putting down his cement-like hair and flattening it against his head.
"Agreed. I understand communication is important, especially during such difficult times but..." He sighed, rubbing his flat face.
"It's super annoying. We should all get coffee cups that say 'this meeting could've been an email' on them and just use them every time we have one." You sighed, adjusting yourself to make yourself more comfortable as well.
"Well, now that that's over, and we don't really have anything else to do...wanna go out for drinks?" Hizashi perked up, green sunglasses perched on his head, hair still gelled up.
"It's one o'clock in the afternoon." Aizawa scowled, looking disapprovingly at the man.
"I think he just wants to hang out rather than drink." You slung your arm over Aizawa. He scowled at you but didn't move your arm.
"No, I'm totally gonna drink." Hizashi said while walking backwards, already calling a cab.
"Oh yeah me too." Nemuri agreed, nodding her head.
___________________________________________
"I don't know why I came." Aizawa was acting pissy, laying down his head on his crossed arms, glaring at the loudmouths around him.
"Because you loveee us, admit it!" You sang, stirring the drink in your hands. You weren't drunk per say but you were definitely looser and happier now. "Cmon, won't you drink a little?" You looked down at him, smirk on your face.
He scoffed and looked away, sitting up straight. "Someone needs to get you home, and we share a living space, so I'm forced to babysit."
"Dawww, it's okay to show your emotions." You tugged on his uniform sleeve, putting yourself in his personal space.
"Hey!" Hizashi called out to you, definition more drunk than you were. "Let's do karaoke!" He motioned you over, pointing to Anan, who was already singing. You happily jumped up, waiting behind Sekijiro to sing.
When it was your turn, your singing was horrid. It was off-key and loud. Most of your friends just laughed and egged you on, spurring you to sing louder and worse. Still, even in your fuzzy mind you recognize on pair of dark eyes just staring at you. Not in a negative way, no, there was something in his face and eyes that made you quiet down some. Just so he knew you were singing for him.
___________________________________________
You don't know how you got home, but you did. Looking at the time, it was seven PM at night. You groaned, rubbing your head while your other hand limply hung off the couch. An oversized jacket was forced on you, baggy, and so so warm.
"Drink this." You looked up to the dark presence above, squinting at the harsh contrast of the shadow to the bright apartment. You got up and groggy drank the water.
"Thanks." You sighed, looking up at Aizawa.
"Sure. Just try to be more responsible next time. You have an image to uphold." He snatched back the cup when you finished, which you realized had prints of black cats on it.
"Mehmehmehmeh." You made a face, mocking him in a high-pitched voice while making a puppet with your hand. The man you were making fun glared at you from the kitchen, activating his quirk while washing your dish.
"I'm being serious. Anyone could've walked in and seen a UA teacher acting a fool at a bar." He growled, now in the drying process.
"Ahh, it was one drink! And plus, none of our dear students are gonna walk into a bar." You got up stretching, scratching your leg while walking past him.
"It was more than one drink!" He called out to you.
"One, ten does it matter?" You replied, entering your bedroom and shutting your door behind you, ending the conversation.
The next morning, you found yourself with a jacket you'd never had before. It was baggy, many sizes too large for you, and something right out of a goth magazine. You don't know where you got it from, but it was warm and comfortable, plus it smelt nice, so you added it to your closet.
___________________________________________
The students finally arrived and settled in the dorms, now UA dorm life was in full swing. It was peaceful to see such vibrant characters and youth constantly surround you, it filled you with a new vigor. That was, until now.
Loud crashing woke you up in the dead of night, and you immediately jumped up into action. You didn't yell or scream. Instead, you grabbed a flashlight and a small knife. You slowly opened your bedroom door, crouching out and keeping close to the wall. There was a large imposing figure standing in the middle of the hall, leaning against the wall while fussing with their boot.
Taking the chance, you kicked off the wall and laughed yourself forward. Landing on the interlopers back, you wrapped your arm around their neck, using your free hand to press the switch blade on their face. Your legs immediately wrapped around their muscled frame, trapping yourself onto them.
"What the fuck are you doing in my home." You growled in their ear, putting pressure on the knife to start to dig into their cheek.
"Getting my dumbass kids." Aizawa growled out, hands trying to rip you off of him.
You froze for a second, eyes going wide and mouth going slack.
"Huh!?" You yelled out, toppling off of your roommate. Knife clattering somewhere into the kitchen.
Aizawa turned to you, pissed off and resuming his fussing with his shoes. He tilted his head in your direction but not looking at you. You sat on the ground, still processing everything.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Did I get you anywhere?" You finally came to your senses, scrambling up to check him. Grabbing his chin, you tilted his head back and forth, inspecting.
"I'm fine. I've got to go." He ripped his head back, leaning away from your touch. He finally got his boots of fully, walking into the kitchen and to the front door.
"No you're not, I cut you." You ran into the kitchen, pulling out the first aid kit from under the sink.
"It's fine." He was already at the door, but you ran to him and grabbed the back of his shirt.
"No, it's not, I could've really hurt you." You had grabbed an antiseptic wipe and a bandaid to clean up the cut you made on him. It was small, a nonconsequential wound. But you still took delicate care to cleaning it and covering it up. He didn't get the chance to see what kind of bandaid you put on him, but he felt that it was small.
"As if." He mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as he accepted your gentle touch. There was no bite in his tone, like he was just saying it to say it, to keep up an image. You pulled back, and gave him a once-over.
Aizawa opened his eyes again, and turned to the door to hide his face from you.
"Now you can get your dumbass kids, asshole." You smiled softly, and even if he couldn't see your face, he registered the softness in your tone. The fondness.
When Aizawa got done with yelling at his two problems children, he turned and stomped away, leaving them to be angry at him.
Midoriya remembered something for a moment and hesitantly turned to his rival/best friend.
"Hey Kacchan, was there a Hello Kitty bandaid on his face?" Midoriya seemed a little dumbfounded. It couldn't be true, Aizawa with a bandaid on his face, let alone a Hello Kitty one?
"Hah? The fuck are you talking about?" Bakugo was still clearly pissed, but he was more taken aback than angry.
"That little pink sticker on him, I could swear I saw Hello Kitty on it." Midoriya responded, adamant that he did see it.
Bakugo was silent for a moment, and the freckled boy thought he was ignoring him. So he just sighed and returned inside.
Bakugo smirked a little, now fully remembering. Yeah, he was.
___________________________________________
The next morning you decided to ask what happened.
"My two biggest problems decided to sneak out and fight. It hasn't even been a week, and they're already trying to kill each other." Aizawa angrily muttered into his cup of coffee.
You stared at him for a second, pursing your lips. "Did you expel them?" You tilted your head, eyeing him warily.
"I wish." He chuckled, drinking his coffee.
"Ah, so they're your favorites." You smiled, wiping your hands and heading to serve yourself a plate of food. You heard the stern teacher sputtering behind you, coughing as a result of his reaction.
"I have no favorites, and those two would never be them." He responded, setting down his cup heavily.
"But you didn't expel them. You just gave them house arrest and chores. Your favorites." You shrugged, turning around to smirk at him.
"Well, it..." Aizawa shook his head, face pulling into one of anger as he looked for an excuse. He gave up, flopping his hands down to look at you. "They'll learn. They just need more discipline. It's hardly a call for expulsion."
"Let's see," You set down your toast to count examples. "Sneaking out after curfew barely a few days into moving into dorms, destructive of school property, assault on another student, three students snuck out without permission to save another classmate, Midoriya being the ringleader, anddd..." You screwed up your face, and you tried to remember more. You snapped your fingers and pointed at the scowling Aizawa. "Oh! First day, you should've expelled Midoriya and transferred him to another class, but you didn't." You leaned on the counter and tilted your head. "Instead, you let him stay in the hero course because you believed in him. Plus, that whole unwritten speech about Bakugo when he was kidnapped? There was nothing in our notes that said anything of what you said. But you said it anyway, from your heart."
Aizawa had a carefully neutral face, just staring at you while you grilled him.
"So my only crime is believing in my students." His voice was monotone, any semblance of emotion wiped from his face. If it were anyone else, you would've thought they were pissed at you or angry. But you knew better, you recognized that face from last night. The 'I'm pissed because I expected better from you' face.
"No," You grabbed your plate and walked past Aizawa to lounge in the living room, patting his shoulder as you walked. "Your only crime is having a huge heart, but the inability to even show you even have one."
___________________________________________
There was no real reason for you to be here, you thought to yourself. You barely helped out when the kids picked out their ultimate moves, and you were definitely not one of the teachers who regularly trained with the kids, but you still found yourself being dragged to go to the hero licensing exams.
You adjusted your hero costume, pulling down and pulling up the outfit where need be.
"Why am I coming again?" You asked Aizawa, turning to him to see he was already staring at you.
He shrugged, "Principal Nedzu just said you were to come." He looked away, fiddling with his phone while he waited for you to get ready.
"Well, sure, I got that, but he didn't email me, and I don't exactly see why-" You were still pulling yourself together, grabbing an over-the-shoulder bag and checking whether or not you had your keys, your wallet, and extra makeup and other stuff you might need.
"Are you ready yet? At this rate, we'll hold up the whole class and make them late." He interrupted you, crossing his arms impatiently.
You deadpanned him and adjusted the strap. "Yes, I'm ready. Dick." You stuck your tongue out at him while he held the door open for you, trying to push you out.
"You need to watch your mouth more. Who knows who's listening." He scolded, pressing the elevator button. The elevator dinged open, and you two stepped inside. Aizawa went to press the floor button, but you beat him to it. He gave you a look.
You smiled. "I like pressing the buttons."
"What are you, a child?" He scoffed.
"Then you'd be a predator." You shot back without thinking. Both of you realized what you meant by that, but before you could spit out on explanation, the door opened again.
Hizashi strolled in, whistling a tune. "Hey guys!" He cheered, ignoring the tension behind him. "What's up?" He turned around, looking at your blushing face and Aizawa's blatant ignoring of you.
"Nothing, what are you up to?" You chuckled, rubbing your head.
"Gonna go out and be a radio host and communications guy." He smiled, but you heard the strain in his voice.
Your bashful attitude dropped, and you held out a hand. "Hey, don't spread yourself super thin." You advised, voice full of worry.
The elevator dinged to all of your last stops, and Hizashi strolled out before the two of you, walking backward to face you.
"Don't worry about me! I'll be fine." He waved you off, turning around to walk normally with his hands in his pockets.
"I worry about him sometimes." You admitted, stuck in place. Aizawa walked out before you, holding the elevator so it didn't close on you.
"He's fine, trust me. Hizashi doesn't think about much other than music and having fun." He shrugged, looking off.
"That's because he thinks through you. He speaks Aizawa and thinks Aizawa." You stepped out, walking out the bottom common room to the main grounds of UA.
Aizawa shrugged, not saying anything as he followed you. You looked out to all the excited students, the air buzzing with conversation.
Aizawa got his classes' attention, speaking to all his students.
"Now listen up. This is the most important test of your life, and only fifty percent of the whole student body will pass." That made the class tense up and freeze, dramatic whispers grew between them. "Even though some of you are in trouble." He made direct, unashamed eye contact with both Midoriya and Bakugo, "You will all take the test. Now let's go before we're late." He led the class in the bus, you two being the last ones in.
"They're your favorite." You sang, tapping your knees. You two were sitting in separate seats, but you two were as close to the edge as possible.
"Keep your voice down." He snapped but didn't deny it.
___________________________________________
Ms. Joke was awesome.
She shamelessly flirted with Aizawa, if not being a bit pushy with it, and teased him.
You knew of her, you had some run-ins with her when you first debuted. She was a light-hearted, strong woman who had a good sense of humor, she often used to make you double over in full-out belly laughter. But there was something different this time, she was funny, that didn't change, but you weren't laughing so hard you cried now.
"Eraser," Ms. Joke was barely holding back laughter now, "Your fly is down."
You and Aizawa sat next to each other while Ms. Joke was two seats away from you two. That... wasn't all that funny....huh. Maybe Aizawa's bitterness rubbed off of me? Aizawa just sat there like he hated the world, but especially her right now.
"I can't believe you have a full class! Usually, you would've expelled someone by now. You must actually like your class." She turned to him, and you leaned over.
"Right! I think he has a secret soft spot for all of them, but especially-" You exclaimed, excited that some outside of UA had noticed this.
Aizawa cut you off by putting his hand in front of your face, now angry at the world, Ms. Joke, and you.
She laughed, and you giggled. "You're so predictable! Date me." Ms. Joke immediately turned to him.
"Shut up." He scowled, and she just laughed in response.
You sat back up now, looking at him teasingly. "If I have a say-"
"You don't."
"I think you two would make a great couple!" You grabbed Aizawa's shoulders and leaned him to the loud woman, and she just laughed in response. Strangely, you could see her breath from this angle, but you could also see Aizawa's hair float up for a mere second before it dropped again. An action so small and unnoticeable that if you hadn't been so close, you wouldn't have seen it.
You let go, and she leaned to you two, a slightly angry look on her face.
"But c'mon, you both know what's going to happen in just a few seconds." Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a strained smile.
You looked at the dark man beside you, really he sticks out pretty bad here, and gave him a confused and slightly scared look.
You heard her say something earlier, but you had no idea what it meant, let alone now.
"And yet, you didn't say a thing to your class. Every year the test is always different." She rested her chin on her fist, looking determined out on the field. Aizawa was blankly doing the same, but there was a different look in his eye, one you recognized. One of a teacher who knows what his students can do.
You were shifting on your seat, watching class 1-A break up into factions, trying to understand what the other woman was saying.
"It's a tradition during the exam, most if not almost all of the students have equal footing. Except for one." She dropped her hand, sitting up straight. You were watching her, a feeling of foreboding coming over you as she delved more and more into her dramatic rant.
"UA has a serious disadvantage. Showing off the country's top schools sports program to the whole country, which showed off not just your students' quirks, but their weaknesses and their fighting styles too." Your eyes widened, and you turned back to the field. Watching the majority of the class you grew to care about deeply, be unknowingly followed. "It's a little funny, isn't it?"
That made your heart race, surprise written all over your face. Aizawa ignored her, eyebrows deepening.
"If you actually liked your class this year, you should've warned them about this. It happens every time your school takes the exam, UA is immediately crushed." She said, and to prove her right, a crowd of students all aimed for one group. Yours.
You looked at Aizawa, wondering why he kept quiet about all this. He glanced at you briefly before nodding his head back to the field with the tiniest of motions. That feeling of dread was replaced with pride as you watched Midoriya effortlessly kick away a storm of balls with one kick. From this angle, Ms. Joke assumed you turned away from Aizawa, feeling a little awkward that she had now seemingly made you upset. What she didn't see was your proud smile, your smirk of arrogance. Yeah, they'll be fine.
"I don't really see a reason why I should've warned them. Nothing would've changed if I did, either way, they would've had to deal with it." You and Aizawa watched as your students effortlessly dodged and moved, using their quirks to the best of their abilities to take back the advantage that was stripped away from them. It was taking everything in you not to just cheer out for them, not to scream, hell yeah!
"Real heroes turn around any situation. Besides, when they become pros in the spotlight, they'll have to face villains who already know their quirks." His voice was stern and sharp, with no room for argument. "Perhaps at UA, we look further ahead than other schools." Even though he still had that monotone voice, Aizawa had a passion for his students, one that he barely contained.
A dark shadow fell over the laughing woman's face, now at an angle where she could see the both of you. She watched with bated breath as you watched Aizawa. Smiling while she huffed out a nose laugh. She recognized that look, looking down at her ring finger, she fiddled with the gold ring. There were rings decorating all her other fingers, but the one on that ring was the first and most important one. She's made that face hundreds of times at her own wife, and only a fool would mistake it for anything else.
___________________________________________
“‘UA looks further ahead than other schools’, huh? That’s pretty condescending of you to say Eraser.” Ms. Joke piped up, the two had been going back and forth, but you decided to ignore their banter in favor of anxiously watching the students, afraid. “There are as many kids who want to be heroes as there are stars in the sky. The strength of that will has nothing to do with being famous.” Ms. Jokes face had gone back to being serious, and it made you a little unsettled. The woman, in even the short amount of time you’d known her, had taken everything with a grain of salt. Never the one to take offense to someone's words or actions. But here she was scolding Aizawa. They really were the same. They hide the same deep love and care for their students, and the moment someone says something slightly mean, they pop off.
“If you act like you’re the stars of the show and look down on everyone else, then you’re only showing off your true weakness.”
While her words were true, they seemed a little misplaced. Aizawa constantly humbled the students to remind them that no matter how far they got, they would always have room to grow and improve. Not just in their physical strength, but their mental capabilities as well. Maybe it was about the students themselves? Bakugo and Monoma were the students that popped up in your mind immediately.
“You’re right, we will take your advice and make sure our stars don’t think they’re the only ones who shine.” You nodded, sliding your eyes over to her. She nodded, a small smile on her face. Aizawa looked over at you in a questioning manner. 
“Our students are great and all, but sometimes they need to be reminded that they’re not the main character, even if they act like it.” You smiled slightly, easily finding Bakugos yelling from in the arena.
“...Agreed.”
___________________________________________
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the test ended. Rubbing sleep from your eyes you walked by Aizawa while he went through the paper work he now needed to fill out. 
“You know, I’m starting to see why you’re so tired all the time.” You laughed, tapping the stack of appears in his hands.
He gave an airy laugh, “Sometimes I think they do it on purpose.”
“Well, I can do some it for you. I don’t spend as much time with the kiddos like you do, but I’m sure I could get the hang of it.” You offered, slightly pouting your lips. 
“You’d probably mess it up, or mark them in that atrocious pen you have.” He shook his head, tilting the papers away from you.
“Huh?! Why do you have such little faith in me!? I’m trying to be nice, you-” Kaminari was with his usual group of friends, but he was side-eying the two of you, snickering while watching your interaction. “Jerk.” 
“Good save.”
“Shaddup.” You punched his arm, snatching some of the papers away from him. “I can do this, no sweat, and I promise to use a normal pen.” 
He glared at you, before sighing and shaking his head. “Fine.”
Ms. Joke trotted up to you two and offered to do joint training. Aizawa accepted the offer and walked away, loading all the students onto the bus. 
She turned to where you were still standing, trying to organize and smooth out the stolen reports. “My real name is Emi Fukukado, by the way.” She held out a business card in her gloved hand.
You took it appreciatively. 
“Thanks!” You introduced yourself in turn, shaking her hand.
“Hey, between us two, you and Eraser would make a pretty cute couple.” Fukukado said nonchalantly, smiling easily.
“Hah?!” You exclaimed, freezing on the spot. Your face grew hot, and you tightened your grip on the jokesters hand.
Fukukado pulled away, smile never going away. “I recognize that look in your eyes when you look at him, and Aizawa doesn’t put up with just anyone you know.” She laughed slightly, putting her hands on her hips. “Trust me, my wife looks at me like that all the time, and we’ve been married about ten years now!” 
“Hahhhh?! You’re married?!” 
___________________________________________
“You didn’t know? She always wears her wedding ring.” Aizawa sat down heavily beside you on the couch, grunting while he leaned forward. 
“She wears like, ten. How would I know?” You shrugged, pulling down the black pen behind your ear, unglittered unfortunately, to continue your journey of legal HPSC papers. 
“Didn’t you know her when you were younger?” He raised an eyebrow to you, his dark hair out of his face and into a bun.
“Yeah, but we weren’t friends. It was more like, you’re a young woman in the same male-dominated field as me, if anything goes down we’ll have each other's backs. Not friends friends. I literally just learned what her name is.” You turned your attention to the work, already halfway through your stack, while Aizawa was just starting his.
“Women are weird.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Oh yeah? You’ve known Hizashi since high school and you still deny you two are literally best friends.” You rolled your eyes, remembering how vehemently Aizawa denied the two literally aren’t two peas in a pod.
“Because we’re not. We’re good friends.” You groaned and flicked a pen cap at him. He growled at you, but otherwise turned back to his work.
“Anyyyways, I still feel kinda bad that Todorki and Bakugo failed. That test was really important, and they’re the only two in 1-A who failed.” You sighed, eyes running over Bakugo’s paper.
“That’s their own fault, if they had seen above their own hubris, they would’ve acted better and passed. They will learn to do better at the retake.” The dark-haired man shook his head, sighing.
“True, it was their own pride that was their downfall.”
“Make sure to mark the date in your calendar, it's about three months from now.” He added nonchalantly, now fully focused on the papers.
You looked up and made a confused face. “Why would I need to, I’m not their homeroom teacher?” 
He didn’t respond for a moment, avoiding eye contact. You saw his ears go red slightly at the tips, perking up. “Because you went with me to the first exam, why not help me at the provisional?” 
“W-well, I guess. But I won’t be of much help.” You looked away, remembering the words Fukukado told you the other day making you go hot yourself. 
You both fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds now were the ticking clock and the sounds of papers shuffling and pens scraping. 
It was nice.
___________________________________________
“Wait wait wait-” You were laughing now, holding a hand over your mouth. Hiazshi was smiling at you, and Midnight was shaking her head in disbelief. “He got naked?” 
“He didn’t get naked, his quirk made his clothes phase through him. So he ended up naked. There’s a difference.” Aizawa shook his head, sipping his coffee.
You laughed out loud now, leaning on Hizashi’s shoulder while he joined with you.
“I was shocked at first too! I mean, yeow! Everything was out.” That only spurred you on more, tears gathering in your eyes.
“Oh man,” You sighed, wiping away those tears. “I hope they helped him out with his costume, I mean, there’s no way that's safe.” You shook your head, sitting on Hizashi's armchair now.
“They did, they made it out of his hair, so it would phase with him.” He nodded, stuffing food in his mouth. You quirked an eyebrow but ignored it.
“That must’ve taken forever.” 
“Yes, it did.” Aizawa butt in, now fully paying attention to the both of you. You couldn’t see Hizashi smirk, but you were caught off guard by such aggressive behavior. 
“Oh,” You looked away, now feeling slightly awkward. “What was the point of them visiting, anyway? I mean, not that it’s bad to introduce the classes to the big three, but why now?” 
Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “To have them talk about the work studies.” 
The air in the teacher lounge shifted, now to a tense one. There was a meeting the day before the new term started, an open discussion on whether or not UA students should be allowed to even let them participate in them. Just like the internships, it was a heavily debated argument. You, Aizawa, Snipe, and Anan were against it, saying it well it went last time would only embarrass/harm UA’s reputation further. Nemuri, Sekijiro, Ken, and Ectoplasmi were for it, their reasoning that the students would need the practice. Others fell in between and allowed themselves to be swayed by the opinions of others.
“Oh.” That was all you said.
“Yeah.” That was all he replied with.
When the school day ended, Aizawa met you at home. He angrily kicked off his boots and hung up his capture scarf by the door. You turned around from the sink, hands wet from washing the dishes.
“Hey.” 
“Hey.” He looked up at you, standing at the doorway. “I don’t agree.”
“I don’t either.” You turned back, immediately knowing what he was talking about.
When the HPSC had first sent the letter to UA stating they would like the school to participate in the work studies, the teachers erupted in conversation. When the staff didn’t agree, Aizawa stood up an brought all the attention to him.
“Did we forget what happened the first time we allowed our students into the hands of the HPSC? My own students had gone off and could’ve gotten killed. I had no idea, thanks to the lies administered by the commission. Do we need a repeat of that?” He sat back down, looking angrily out at his fellow staff. You stood up beside him.
“I agree, who knows what danger is out there, and we all know from the past that the Hero Commission will just lie to us.”
Snipe nodded in agreement beside you. Ectoplasim stood up. “I assume your classes will have their provisional licenses now? Our students have grown since then, and they now have the ability to make their own calls and decisions.” He rebuttled. This statement only made a fight break out.
In the end, your side lost.
Aizawa was leaning on the counter beside you, hands clutching the counter in a white-knuckled grip. “They lied to us, three students could’ve died.” His voice cracked at the end, face screwed up in anger. You whipped your head at him, looking at him wide-eyed.
You decided not to say anything about his emotions, instead, you dried your hands and turned to him fully. 
“Want to spar?” You offered, holding out his goggles. Aizawa stared at them, then stared at you for a long moment. He snatched them up and quickly put them on. Wordlessly, he got back dressed in his hero outfit, and you complied by getting your shared duffle bag and followed him out. You both had decided to share a bag, hey, it would be easier to carry one than two, since you spar so often anyways.
___________________________________________
The next few weeks became hell. Immediately something was brewing, you, Aizawa, and other UA students were invited to an important meeting hosted by Sir Night Eye. You’ve heard of him, mostly through what you know about All Might, but you have never really seen him in action. He was a pretty cool dude, if not a little too serious for your liking. You could only deal with one grumpy man in your life, you didn't need to. There were also friends you made through your line of work, like Toyomitsu/FatGum, Takagi/Rock Lock, and Mr. Brave, you never learned his name, interactions were always brief, but friendly.
You mostly just listened in, you didn’t really have any new or helpful information to hand out to aid in the meeting. You had become slightly boring ever since you became a hero at UA, hero work slightly slacking now that tests and assignments stood in your way of aiding your friends. That is why you had an uptick in your sparring matches with Aizawa, no excuse to fall behind.
Takagi spoke up, questioning why your students were here in the meeting. Toyomitsu, in a burst of passion, declared that the students had valuable information to share. He then introduced himself, and when his attention turned to your side of the table, you waved at him happily.
Aizawa looked at you through the corner of his eyes, a small smile on his face. You elbowed him in response, brushing him off. Aizawa was called to speak, and his leg started to bounce from under the table, only you noticed.
“The bullets effects seem to be different from my Eraser. When my quirk is activated, I don’t attack the quirk itself, instead, I temporarily affect the genes themselves, but no permanent or harmful damage is done.”
“Immediately after Takami was shot, we rushed him to the hospital to have him looked at. We found his quirk was deactivated, but thankful after his rest he was returned back to normal.” That was a relief, not only were the effects of the bullet temporary, like Takagi had said, but the effects weren’t harmful in the long run. When it was revealed that the contents of the bullets were filled with human blood, everyone froze. Disgust filled you, wondering what kind of person would do that. 
“A man named Kai Chisaki is the young Yakuza head of this group, and is turning his daughter's body and blood to make the bullets.” You had decided to tune back into the conversation at the worst possible moment, or maybe you tuned out during the worst conversations of your life, your body tensing up as horror filled you. Aizawa sat slacked beside you, his eyes widening in horror as well. Tears sprung into your eyes, and your hand immediately flew up to cover your trembling mouth. How..how could anyone do that to a little girl? Let alone their own daughter?
The meeting went on with the same tense and angry energy, people piping up with their own angry opinions. You watched with a feeling that you were floating outside of your body as Nighteye folded more and more into himself. The pressure everyone putting on him only added to the guilt you knew he carried. 
The meeting was over late into the afternoon, and packets and folders of information were handed out to all of you. Aizawa was to patrol more in the designated at night, and any possible chance you were to follow yours.
Now you were situated in Aizawa’s car, his hands gripping the steering wheel while you leafed through both folders.
“Lock Rock is right. There’s no need for them to be there.”
“I know.” Your voice was watery, sniffing while you tried not to cry onto the packets. “But we don’t have a choice.”
There was silence when he rolled up to a red. A large hand came into your peripheral, pulling the folders away from you. Aizawa threw them in the back of his car, and you heard them scatter. 
“Don’t worry about that now, we can go through them when we get home.” You looked up at him, and while his expression was still guarded and hard, there was something soft hidden in his face. Maybe it was the way his eyebrows were turned up ever so slightly, or his sad eyes, either way, you nodded.
“I just hope we can save that little girl. She’s so small, and she must be so scared.” The light turned green, and he resumed his journey.
“We will, I know we can.”
___________________________________________
The next few weeks were hellish, after school you barely saw Aizawa, and he in turn hardly saw you during breaks/lunches/and during the weekends. You worked from sun up to sunset, using as much time as you could. During the day he worked with the others to make sure everyone was updated on information, whereas during the night you caught up on both your school work and added your own information. You left coffee and easy lunches for him to take out, and he left you jelly packets and energy drinks. 
Finally, there was one day when both of you were home, lying exhausted on the couch together. You were lying on your back, hands covering your eyes while you rested your legs on his. Aizawa complained at first but made no move to stop you, too focused on his iPad sifting through and adding important information. 
“Apparently, Nighteye has picked out people he thinks are assisted with Kai Chisaki. He’ll try to find out more before we move further.” He said out loud, not doing anything to get your attention.
“Good.” Your voice was raspy and tired, flopping your hands down you could barely keep them open. “I’m so tired.” Your voice was filled with pure exhaustion, running on less than thirty hours of sleep for the whole week.
“Me too, I can feel this coming to an end.” You could still hear him clicking away.
“God I hope so, I just want to save her already, I’m starting to see Eri in my goddamn dreams.” You shook your head, tears hotly running down the corner of your eyes. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was because of how emotionally drained you were, but you just couldn’t hold back the floodgates.
You heard Aizawa stop tying, but you didn’t dare look over at him.
“Me too.” His voice was filled with utter grief.
___________________________________________
Finally, it was the day.
Nighteye had found one of Chisaki’s minions and tracked down the spot where they had been keeping Eri. Now everyone had gathered around in a large group, waiting anxiously in the bright early morning for their commands. You were following Aizawa tiredly, energy absolutely sapped out of you. Aizawa walked up to Midorya, who was surrounded by the only other UA students. 
“I am moving with the Night Eye agency.” You peeked out from behind the dark man, waving happily at your students, string to hide how tired you were. “Do you understand what that means?” 
Midoriya nodded, a hard look on his face. Aaizawa turned back to you, grabbing your shoulder to push you away. “What was that about?” You asked, confused as you turned and waved goodbye.
“He still hasn't earned my trust for running off last time, so I told him I expect him to do things right this time.” He looked down, still walking to get in position.
“You’re such a hardass.” You smiled, shoulders bouncing while you looked away.
“Good, then they stay on their feet and do their best.”
___________________________________________
Chaos quickly erupted outside, and you were stuck batting away villains with clubs of pure light. You swung around your makeshift weapons, filled with electricity and a feeling of burning pain. Police surrounded you, blocking your view of not only the entrance but of your allies. 
“This way!” A strong hand grabbed your arm, and you turned and growled. Your guard dropped when you saw Aizawa dragging you inside with him. Quickly, you put as much light as you could in your pockets, quickly closing them so they wouldn’t escape.
“I’m getting kind of worried, man.” Takagi admitted, looking around for any dangers.
“I wonder if anyone leaked information.” Amajiki admitted aloud, but the chief rebuttled him.
“If they had, one would think they’d be smarter to avoid us.”
“They all should be used to working together already, a bond formed through devotion to their boss. They might feel ashamed now, Chisaki and the top brass haven't even shown themselves yet. They’re probably underground getting ready to flee or hide right now.” Aizawa pipped in. All of you were still running down the impossibly long hallway, hearts racing as one.
“No, there’s no way. That villain busted out the doorway as soon as the chief rang the doorbell, no one just does that. Plus, with how big these guys sound, there's no way they’d just leave.” You shook your head, mind swarming with what was to happen. Kirishima looked over to you, conflicted on whether to agree with his homeroom teacher or his history teacher.
“Either way, we’ll take them down.” He decided to say, not favoring either theory.
Suddenly, Nighteye skidded to a halt, stopping in front of an indent in a wall. He seamlessly opened a secret door, and everyone was thankful for his foresight. 
Three henchmen popped out of the darkness, trying to take the group by surprise. However, they were unable to be successful with Bubble Girls and Centipeder's quick thinking. They stayed back with Nighteye’s order to make sure they didn’t come after your group, and you rushed down a concrete hallway, only to be halted by a dead end.
Takagi called out to Nighteye in anger, but Midorya and Kirishima quickly resolved the problem by kicking through the thick wall that had been placed up. The room suddenly became less solid and started shaking around in an ocean. Panic filled the room as it rolled and changed around you, shoving you all around. You, Aizawa, and Toyomitsu formed a triangle. 
“Eraser, can’t you get rid of it?” Takagi yelled out, but Aizawa just shook his head. 
“Not if I can’t see the main body.” He called out, voice strained as he fought off nausea. 
“We need to hurry!” Your voice wobbled as you tried to find steady ground, “If they’re changing the building, then they can escape before we can even get to the end of the hallway!” You tried to step forward, but the mere action of moving knocked you off kilter, so you stood, fighting off gravity as you tried to move. You have to try!
The room stopped moving as violently, and Lemillion took action to run ahead, moving through another hall. You wished you could follow him, try and at least be there for the kid. A scream ripped out of your throat as the ground under you disappeared. You landed on your stomach, the breath knocked out of you on the dirty floor. Aizawa heaved you up, looking around and assessing the situation. 
Three villains made themselves known, launching themselves at Amajiki. Eraser quickly stepped up, erasing the blonde quirk before he could do serious damage to the kid. 
“Suneater-!” You called out, trying to stop his stupidly brave act.
“Go! I’ve got it.” He turned to you all, nodding towards another hallway, the others ran ahead, but Midoirya, Aizawa, and you staggered for a moment.
“Make sure you tie them up, my quirk will wear off soon.” He jogged off, the green-haired boy behind his teacher.
You nodded at him. “I believe in you, do your best.” You nodded at him before following your companion. Quickly you lost Toyomitsu and Kirishma, as they were sucked into and trapped in another room. 
“We have to keep going, there's no time.” Aizawa pulled you forward, trying to get you to keep moving.
“I know, it just feels like we’re purposely being split apart.” You followed him, worry filling your entire being. 
Takagi locked the room in place as soon as it started to move again, even if it was a tight fit, it allowed you all to push forward.
“Stand back, he’s coming from the places I haven't locked down.” Takagi held out a hand to stop you all from moving forward, and you watched as the end of the hallway rushed towards you all.
Midorya rushed again, kicking away an entrance point. The path never cleared, so the young boy continued his assault. The wall immediately retracted, clearing away the path for you. 
“What the hell..?” You wondered but were quickly cut off by the room changing once more, separating the main group into smaller groups. You were stuck with Aizawa and Midorya.
The wall dropped again, revealing two Takagi’s, and you stood in confusion between the two of them. Aizawa was fast and quickly attacked the fake Takagi before it could attack Midoriya. Himiko Toga was forcefully revealed, squealing while she chased after the boy. As effortlessly as he could, he dragged the crazed girl away, but not without getting stabbed in the shoulder.
Once more the room shifted, and tunnels of dirt and concrete erupted from the walls, you all looked around widely, trying to see where the dirt was coming from. Midoriya took action almost immediately, shooting up to kick where he thought Mimic was. The boy revealed the villain, and in an instant he erased his quirk, watching him fall to his death. 
“The League betrayed them?” Aizawa questioned looking out to where the two voices had come from.
“Seems so, and they used us to aid in their scheming. Though, at least we're on solid ground now.” Nighteye adjusted his glasses, looking forward to the dark hallway, police officers scattered around.
You took a moment to recap and interrogate Irinaka, but that led him into an angry frenzy. 
“As officers of the law, we cannot let them escape.” The chief held up his gun, his underlings looking around as well.
“It sounded like they were escaping, we should focus on our top priority for now instead of going into a circle.” You said, looking around. Takagi agreed with you, deciding to split up the pros with the mission and the police with the League. He decided to stay, you pulled out a small knife, handing it to him.
“Just in case.” He nodded, face still screwed up in pain. 
His speech renewed the hope in your heart, you and Aizawa shared a glace and immediately ran ahead to save Eri, trying to catch up before it was too late.
Following in Midorya's shadow, he bounced ahead of the villain lying on the ground, smashing the wall in front of the group. There a sight for only the strong-hearted was seen, Chisaki and Togata were already engaged in battle, with the electric blonde already having a considerable amount of damage. Aizawa immediately yelled out commands, ordering you to round up the fallen villains. Already quickly rounding up the three villains, you were hit in Chisaki order to Chrono. Aizawa called out to Midoriya, but his body screwed back to look at you. You grunted in pain, feeling like your body was put under molasses. Chrono had gotten straight through your side, cutting a clean medium-sized hole in your midsection. And before anyone could stop him, or help him, Aizawa blinked.
The ground erupted in spikes, sending you flying through the air. Thankfully, you landed in a hole in the ground before you could get caught by the spikes. Aizawa and Chrono were already down there, the latter of the two setting atop Aizawa. Both of you were practically paralyzed, with Aizawa immediately incapacitated by his quirk. He spent the time monologuing about Chisaki, explaining the relationship that Eri had with the others in the Yakuza. Shut the hell up you scum. You couldn’t even growl out loud. Straining as you tried to get him, you were behind the two, and he must not have even realized you were down here. You heard Aizawa grunting as he slowly moved away, you watched as Chrono took out Aizawa’s own knife, opening and getting ready to stab the man with it.
You took out a small piece of light from earlier, the electric gold energy lighting up the dark room.
“Huh?” He looked around to see you, and in one fell swoop, you slashed along his Achilles heels. “You bitch.” He groaned out, dropping the knife to clutch at his heels. At the same time, Amajiki appeared, stabbing his arm with one of his food quirks. There you saw the teenage boy surrounded by police officers, guns ready. He just glared at them in defeat.
The officers helped you up, someone pulled down the bandages on Aizawa's face, and he quickly removed the effects of the quirk. You were taken in an ambulance and Aizawa was taken up to the ground floor. 
“Wait! I can still help!” You tried to squirm out of their grasp, but Aizawa shook his head ‘no.’ Tears sprung in your eyes, did you do bad? You did your best. Still, you were forced into an ambulance.
___________________________________________
You were in and out of consciousness the first day, one part of the injury, but mostly out of laziness. Lack of sleep finally caught up to you, forcing you to pay your debts. Still, it wasn’t like you were out of it, you could hear voices, smell the clean hospital air, feel the thin sheets below you, and taste your dry mouth. Different types of voices visited you, your friends, you recognized dimly. But there was one who stayed as long as they could, and whenever they spoke, you turned your head to them, smiling and appreciating the smooth bass. A large and warm hand felt your forehead, then checked your cheek. But their touch lingered on your cheek, gently cupping the part of your face.
“Hmm, s’warm.” You mumbled, not really awake as you squished your face further in the hand.
“So weird.” But they never pulled away.
___________________________________________
The next day, you were fully awake, still in a little bit of pain. Thanks to quirks and advanced medical technology, your wound was mostly closed. It was still tender to the touch, and still able to open, but as long as you were careful, you’d be fine.
Now you were hungrily inhaling the food the nurse had dropped off, Aizawa watching you in muted disgust.
“Wha’?” Your mouth was still full, flakes of rice and meat juice surrounded your mouth.
“You eat like you’re an animal and not a fully grown woman.” He shook his head, eyeing you like you were gonna eat him next.
“I’m hungry dick!” Still, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eating more delicately. Aizawa rolled his eyes but stopped to watch his hands.
“I have a favor to ask of you.” He didn’t look at you. 
You wanted to tease him, but there was something about his demeanor that made you hesitate. “Yeah, what do you need.” You set down your food, gently sitting up to stare at him.
“The little girl, Eri, her quirk is unstable and dangerous.” Aizawa looked up now, reaching behind him to grab a small packet of papers. He handed them to you, continuing to talk. “So is her emotional state, there’s no telling when she’ll get upset and activate her quirk.”
Multitasking, you opened the folder while listening to him Rewind. She can rewind the state of a person, down to nothing. You looked up with worried eyes.
“She’ll need someone who can stop it, and watch over her.” His words hung heavy in the air, and he was tense now, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Of course, what will you do with her?” He still hadn’t relaxed, hands clenching.
“I was thinking that she could live with us. We could watch over her.” Your eyes widened, mouth parting slightly.
“I-why me? I’m not exactly mother material.” You laughed nervously, looking at him confused. Why does he have to rope you into everything he does? Would you even be good enough to watch over the girl?
“She doesn’t need a mother, she needs someone to help her. And I..we live together, so it makes the most sense.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Yet he was still tense, but why?
You looked down at your own hands, looking over her patient file. She was a traumatized little girl who needed help.
“What i…-what if I mess something up, what if I’m not good enough?” You voiced your concern, voice wavering already. When did you get so emotional?
“You won’t be doing it alone, I’ll be there.” Aizawa's voice was soft, comforting you. You looked up at him, staring into his soft eyes.
“But why me?”
“Because it’s always you.”
___________________________________________
You, as well as the other students, were released from the hospital not too long after the raid. The drive home was silent, both of you sleepy for different reasons. You were getting used to not sleeping all day, and Aizawa was exhausted from watching over Eri all night. Even if Aizawa never put on the radio, even if you hit every red light, even if the late-night roads were quiet, neither of you spoke about what he said in the hospital. Not even when you were in the hospital. 
Tiredly you both made it back home, stumbling in the dark room. 
“Aizawa wait.” You held out a hand, getting his attention while he poured his cup of coffee. You turned to him, “Where is she gonna sleep? There’s only two rooms.” 
Aizawa gave you a blank face, overpouring his cup, hot coffee spilling out from his hand and to the floor.
“Aizawa.” You repeated, his face still blank.
___________________________________________
“I could sleep in the living room.” Aizawa offered, both of you had your hair up/out of your way as you looked around the shared living space.
“Well that’s not fair to you, I’ll just sleep in the living room. You can keep the big room, which I still haven’t gotten over, by the way, and she gets the smaller room. You’ll be right there for her and I can just hang out.” Your hands on your hips while you stared out into the living room, staring down at the beige couch.
“I shouldn’t let you take the living room.” He shook his head, shooting down the idea immediately.
“Why not?” 
“One, because you’re a slob.” Aizawa looked over to you, “Two you have far too much stuff, and three you’re a woman.”
“Okay one, kiss my ass.” You faced him as well, crossing your arms. “And what does me being a girl have to do with anything?” You gave him a dirty look.
“Oh don’t look at me like that, I mean, if anyone needs their own space it should be you.” He waved you off, turning around to head into the kitchen.
“Well, Eri above anyone needs her own room, sooo…” You shook your head at him, giving him a look while he rustled through the cabinets. You thought for a moment, and a terrible idea came up in your head. Aizawa looked over at you, jelly pouch hanging out of your mouth.
“What terrible idea do you have.” He looked at you warily, still hanging into the snack through his teeth.
You shook your head, making a disgusted face.
“What?” He prodded.
“You’re not gonna like it, I don’t even like it, but we could share your room. We could buy another bed and separate the room into two.” You slowly lifted your hands in a questioning manner, your voice high.
Aizawa stared at you, one of his eyes raising in an annoyed look. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Well, what other idea do you have?”
He looked around, thinking for a moment before he groaned very loudly. “You just want to have the bathroom in the room, don’t you?”
“I’m merely making the conscious decision for the both of us considering your situation.” You held your hands up in a non-accusing way, trying to fake some sort of innocence. 
“Fine.” He grunted, turning around to wash the dishes in the sink. You tried to ignore the implications of what sharing a room meant, far more intimate than sharing a home. Walking past, you willfully ignored his blushing ears.
___________________________________________
Aizawa’s time was spent between watching over Eri and working as a teacher. So you didn't see him often for a while, whereas you were suck with redecorating and adjusting your home. You started off slow, just buying kid shit for her, like books, stuffed animals, and cubbies. But when it came time to put together said cubbies and bookshelves you let them build up, and you very pointedly ignored moving the beds. Aizawa was too busy for you to ask, and you sure as hell couldn't, or was it wouldn't, who knows, do it all by yourself. So you called the one man who you knew would help you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“No lift with your legs.” 
“I am lifting with my legs! Hurry up jackass, I’m gonna drop the bed on my foot!” You groaned with the effort, damning yourself for wanting such a heavy frame.
Snipe sighed, rolling his eyes at you while he backed up. He had one hand holding the bottom of the sideways bed, the other supporting the top. Ever so gently he led you out of your old room and into Aizawa’s room.
“Okay ready? I’m gonna set it down, and you have to do it with me.” He looked back at you, his sharp eyes piercing. 
“Yup.” Your voice was strained, trying not to drop the bed. Following his lead, you turned the bed slowly and dropped it. You sighed, leaning over on your knees while you caught your breath. “Fuck.” Looking up, the bed was in the middle of the room, and you needed to shove it to the other side of the room, opposite to Aizawa’s
“I got it.” Snipe waved you away, immediately going to drag the bed in place.
“Thanks.”
You knew Snipe would answer your call, often times you hung out outside of work, and on the rare times he hosted an outing, you went with him. He stood back up, the muscle shirt he was wearing doing wonders for his body, showing off his toned arms and flashing you his exposed sides. And for a man whose quirk was a gun, he sure as hell did have a slutty waist.
“Alright break time.” You walked out of the room, Snipe following you with laughter.
“We’ve barely started.” 
“And now it’s break time.” You filled up two cups of water, handing one to him. Your hands brushed briefly, his course fingertips quickly ghosting over yours. There was a beat of silence, he made direct eye contact while he took a sip from his cup.
It’s not like you haven't thought about it, even before Snipe showed his face you knew he’d be hot under there. It was sometime after the final exams in the first term, he had been retelling the embarrassing story of his run-in with Hagakure. You had laughed at him loudly in the warm night air, tears springing to your eyes. You could feel his eyes on you, even if you couldn’t see them.
“Why do you wear your mask all the time?” You asked out loud after calming down. He stared ahead, and instead of responding he just tugged it off.
He looked at you with brilliant grey eyes, little targets in them. He had dark and thick eyebrows, long pretty eyelashes, and his full lips pulled in a smirk. Across his face was a gnarly scar, it looked like he had been slashed at an angle across, leaving behind a slightly raised thick wound.
“You’re face is a little lighter than your body.” You said stupidly, brain short-circuiting.
He just laughed and looked back out into the courtyard. 
“I know.”
You cleared your throat, willing away all of the not-very-safe-for-work thoughts that filled your head.
“I have to wonder, why are you and Aizawa sharing a room?” Snipe sat on the table, leaning back to watch you. His thick thighs were highlighted when he sat down, shorts leaving nothing to the imagination, and you swore he widened them when he caught you looking. Damn these slutty men.
“It’s nothing like that,” You waved him away. “Have you heard about the little girl that's going to be living here?” He nodded.
“Her name is Eri, and her quirk is unstable, so Aizawa has guardianship over her so she doesn’t accidentally kill someone. Which means that she’s gonna live with him, which means she’s gonna live with us.” You sighed.
“But why does that equate to you and Aizawa sharing a room?” He waved an arm, looking at you curiously.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re jealous, Snipe.” You smirked, but it dropped. “Eri immediately gets a room, that’s a given, but I wanted Aizawa close by, but he thought it’d be inappropriate for me to sleep out here. So now we’re bunking together.” 
Snipe hummed, closing his eyes and looking away. But out of the corner of his eyes he peeked at you. “You could always spend the night at my place if you need, Sejikiro doesn’t mind guests over, since he’s usually out.” 
Before you could respond, a presence made themselves known.
“That’s completely inappropriate.” Aizawa snapped, holding a bag of groceries. 
“Hey, Aizawa.” Snipe turned in his direction, waving hello.
“Why are you here?” He greeted back.
“He helped me move my bed, and he’s helping me put together the bookcases and Eri’s bed.” You peeked over, looking at him. Aizawa was just angrily looking at Snipe, who was staring back.
“You couldn’t have asked me?” He was pissed at you now?
“You’ve been busy.” You shrugged, stepping out to try and cool the angry man.
“I would’ve helped, you just needed to ask.” Aizawa growled out. “Now I’m here, so you,” He looked over to Snipe, who was just lazily watching the whole conversation, “Can get out now.” Aizawa sidestepped the door, motioning for him to leave.
“I’m already here now, plus if we all three work together, I’m sure it’ll go by quickly.” He tried to soothe the stern teacher.
“I’m sure you’re very busy, get out.” Neither Aizawa nor Snipe moved, silently challenging one another.
Snipe got up without a word, and on his way out he turned to you. “Call me whenever you need help, you have my number.” He waved goodbye, Aizawa slamming the door in his face.
“What the hell was that?” You asked in disbelief, watching the man you lived with as he strutted across the room. He threw the bags on the groaned, angrily opening the edge door to shove the food in there. “Hello?” You got closer, standing right behind him.
“I didn’t know you were calling other men to come by our house alone. You can’t do this when Eri comes in.” He was basically throwing in the food now, the poor grapes and carrots chucked to the back.
“Like Snipe isn’t our friend, what was going to happen? He helped me move the bed.” You were leaning over him now, anger now filling you. It’s been a while since you fought, the song and dance you both created had shifted over time.
“He’s your friend, not mine.” Aizawa stood up. “Plus, anything he did I could’ve done easily, there was no reason to call him. I live here too.” Aizawa got in your face, glowering.
“You’ve been busy. I’m not going to bother you-” 
“It wouldn’t be a bother! All I’ve been doing is making sure Eri’s healing process goes as scheduled, nothing I couldn’t have left to help you.” 
Both of you just stood there, breathing angrily in each other's spaces, chest to chest.
“Why do you care so much? Aren’t you happier that I’m taking the work off your hands?” You asked, anger ebbing away.
Aizawa said nothing in response, looking away slightly ashamed. 
“Because I don’t like other people in my house.” Bull.
“What about Nemuri or Hizashi? You have no problem with them coming over? Or Anan and Sejikiro?” You asked, genuinely confused.
His shoulders slumped, eyebrows slightly going up. “It’s different.” 
“How? In what way?” 
Aizawa’s tired eyes looked at you, and you realized what Fukukado was talking about.
“I recognize that look in your eyes when you look at him..”
“It just is, if you need my help, you can just call me. I’ll be there.”
___________________________________________
The first thing you noticed was how small she was, and how stringy and thin her hair was.
You were sitting in the hallway of the front door, wearing a Hello Kitty jacket and baggy sweatpants. Eri was clutching onto Aizawa’s hand painfully, but he made no move to pull away.
“Hey, little one.” You made no movement, both you and Aizawa letting her decide what to do. He was just staring at her, gauging her reactions.
She said your name, asking whether or not you were you.
“Yes I am, did Mr. Aizawa tell you I was a hero?” You asked softly, smiling at her. She nodded, one hand on her face.
“And I’m going to be living with you too?”
“Yes ma’am.” You nodded dutifully.
“Why, uhm..” Her voice got quiet, and she mumbled into her hand. Aizawa crouched down, getting on her level. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded shyly. She turned back to you, big eyes filling with tears. “Why didn’t you see me in the hospital?” She asked, looking down while her voice wavered. In turn, your eyes filled with tears, guilt ripping you open. You swallowed away your tears and leaned forward. 
“I’ve been busy getting your room all ready for you. Remember when Mr. Aizawa asked what your favorite animals and colors were?” You asked.
She turned back, eyes widening as she nodded.
“Well, want to go see?” She nodded enthusiastically again. You slowly got up, holding a hand out for her to grab. She did gratefully, but she never let go of Aizawa’s forcing you to walk side by side as you walked to her room. 
You opened the door, and she gasped, running in and looking excitedly at everything. You and Aizawa watched in adoration as she squealed, never moving from the doorway. 
You looked over at him and saw he was already staring at you.
“What?” You asked, laughing while a bashful blush spread across your face.
“You’ll do great, I don’t understand why you were so worried.” He shook his head, a small smile on his own face, ears burning hot. 
You exhaled out of your nose, smiling as you turned back to Eri, who was watching you two. She just slowly crawled up to you two, slowly hugging both of your legs. Her grip became tight, and you and Aizawa shot each other’s worried looks. 
“What’s wrong honey?”
“Eri is something wrong?”
She looked up to you two, face red and eyes watery. “You guys are like mommy and daddies.” She sniffed, “I promise I won’t hurt you.” 
You frowned deeply, eyes filling up again with tears. Aizawa started to blink rapidly, inhaling deeply as he looked up.
“Oh Eri, you could never hurt us. I promise to protect you.” You hugged her tiny frame, soothing her shaking. Aizawa joined you, hugging her just as tight.
“We’ll always be here for you, alright?”
That was a promise neither of you would break, no matter what happened.
___________________________________________
they make me mentally unwell,,AND BEFORE YOU ASK YESS I'LL WRITE A PT 3 its just this was already 12k words, and i knew that it would jest get more unreasonable the more I wrote,,,soooo,,,they make me so ill I just,,,
Also I know eri doesn't come home till later, but lick my bawls,,,I'm forcing parenthood on them
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heich0e · 11 months
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the wake - miya osamu/f!reader (haikyuu!) part 8 in the bff!osamu series word count: 2.5k tags: angst, childhood friends to pining, every miya fic i write is just a thinly veiled love letter to the miya brotherhood and that is very clear here, angst gets worse before it gets better so be nice to me, ps: u ever heard the song vienna by billy joel?
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The longest that you have ever gone without speaking to the Miya twins was thirteen calendar days—a single day shy of a fortnight—when the three of you were eleven years old. 
It all happened because you’d invited the twins over to see the brand new lava lamp you’d gotten for your birthday—the one you had been longing for relentlessly, and talked about incessantly in the lead-up to your big day—and, well, one thing led to another (as it often has the tendency to do when Osamu and Atsumu are involved) and the beloved lamp had ended up shattered across your bedroom floor only a few hours after you’d torn it from its pretty purple wrapping paper. 
Neither of the boys had been willing to take responsibility at the time, each pointing an identically vehement finger of blame towards the other, and they both refused to offer you anything remotely close to an apology—lest that somehow imply an admission of culpability. 
Your mother had sent them home after a stern, disappointed talking to and a call to their own mother (which she then echoed in a far less civilized tone when they returned home to her) and then they didn’t hear from you for almost two full weeks. It felt like an eternity back then, when life was small and days were long and just a couple of hours felt like a lifetime. You refused to come to your door when the two of them showed up knocking, didn’t answer any phone calls or instant messages they sent, and outrightly ignored them at school each day—hiding in classrooms on breaks between classes or behind the backs of other girls to avoid the increasingly desperate attempts of the twins to get your attention.
And so, on the two week anniversary of The Incident, the twins showed up at your door one last time—sheepish but earnestly remorseful—with a new lava lamp in tow. Thus the silent treatment was ended, reconciliation was struck, and there has scarcely been a day that passed since then where you had not been in some form of contact with the twins.
Osamu hasn’t heard from you in 6 weeks.
After the night of Atsumu’s party, he’d waited with bated breath to hear from you. His phone was on, sound at full blast and never too far from his reach. He knew it wasn’t really his place to reach out first. Knew you probably needed time to process things. To forgive him.
That first night he’d barely slept a wink, staring up at the ceiling of his living room, sprawled across the couch the two of you should have been sleeping on together, regretting every single moment of his life that had led him to this misery. He had texted you a simple: Let me know when you’re home safe please. It was a message he’d sent you countless times before, but never with so much urgency—but it went unanswered. It didn’t surprise him, even if it hurt. Even if it only added to the twist of anxiety turning his stomach into knots. More time passed. Seconds bleeding into minutes that turned into hours, each more agonizing than the last. He thought about calling you. Texting you again. Pulling on a jacket and chasing after you like he should have when you walked away from him hours prior. But he didn’t.
Osamu texted Atsumu first thing the next morning, with bags under his eyes and exhaustion in the marrow of his bones, asking if you’d made it back to the party safely. He’d wanted to reach out sooner—he’d had an entire sleepless night to think about nothing else, after all—but he’d waited for the sake of saving face with his twin. 
When Atsumu finally woke up and saw his message, replying back with a frightening ??? didn’t she leave with u?, Osamu’s worst fears were realized. 
After hearing from his brother, Osamu immediately texted your roommate—a girl you’d gone to college with, who might even have been considered your best friend had the twins not beaten her to the punch by about two decades. She and Osamu had always been on good terms, seeing each other semi-regularly over the years by virtue of their shared connection to you. You’d even once implied she had a little crush on him after Osamu had met her for the first time, though he had (for obvious reasons) never acted on the information. He felt no hesitation reaching out to her about whether or not you’d made it home the night before.
Yes.
Her icy reply came through almost immediately—even though it was early in the morning, even though he rarely ever texted her. The message was just three letters and a full stop, but it told him everything he needed to know: you were safe, and she knew what he’d done.
Osamu knew that the very least that he could give you in this situation was space, and he really did try, but he only made it two days of silence before he was reaching out to you again. His text had gone unanswered on that horrible, sleepless night where he had ruined everything, so after two days he finally tried to call.
It went right to voicemail.
His subsequent texts (and eventually calls) over the following days were similarly ignored, and every day that passed without hearing from you felt worse than the last.
Atsumu’s concern took root the day following his party, thanks to his brother's early morning text, and it only continued to grow. You were ignoring him too, the reason for which he had not the faintest idea, and the blonde inundated his twin for details as to what exactly had happened when the two of you had left his apartment that night.
But Osamu couldn’t tell him.
He couldn’t.
So he started avoiding his brother's calls and texts, too.
Osamu’s feelings for you were the only thing he’d ever, ever kept from his twin in all of their shared lifetime. And look where it had gotten him. 
But eventually—inevitably—Osamu finally broke. 
It was to be expected, really. He was hardly eating, scarcely sleeping, and any hours not spent robotically going through motions of keeping his business running were spent holed up in his little apartment. The apartment that now somehow reminded him far too much of you—like you had inked yourself as indelibly into the walls as you had the paint that you helped him apply when he'd first moved in.
Osamu showed up at his brother’s place at 11 o’clock on an otherwise completely unremarkable Wednesday night, still in his Onigiri Miya uniform, and as soon as Atsumu opened the door he burst—violently, spectacularly—into tears before he could even manage a greeting.
It must have been shocking, frightening even, for Atsumu to see his twin in that state. For him to have to help his brother’s crumpled frame across the threshold, over the step in the genkan, and to the couch in his living room—supporting the entirety of his weight to keep him upright. Atsumu had shown up a hundred times at Osamu’s door in not dissimilar states of heartbreak, but that was the first time he’d ever seen his twin—largely credited as the level-headed, rational one between them—like this. He’d always thought Osamu was just stronger than he was when it came to heartbreak; his relationships fizzling out with relatively little fanfare, and no substantial distress, and his exes sort of just faded into the background like they’d never even been there at all.
Atsumu never realized it was because his brother’s heart had never been theirs to break in the first place.
Osamu came clean that night in his brother’s apartment. Confessed to the sins he’d kept locked away in the recesses of his chest for so long, more fully and unequivocally than he had ever voiced the long-held secrets to anyone. And Atsumu listened. He didn’t tease him for his tears. Or berate him for keeping his feelings from him. Or yell at him for harming you and jeopardizing the friendship that the three of you had spent so much of your lives building. 
He just hugged him. Comforted him. Cried with him. Because that was what his brother needed from him more than anything else.
When Osamu calmed slightly, many hours later, Atsumu quietly admitted that he’d suspected there may have been feelings that his brother was harbouring but he’d never really known for sure. I figured ya’d tell me when you were ready. Those were the simple words he’d offered, with a little shrug and a gentle, wobbly smile. And it was the first time in all his life that Osamu realized that his brother had far more tact than he’d ever given him credit for.
Atsumu reached out to you again that night, though his messages to you for the past week had gone unanswered like his brother’s. He put his message simply. He told you that he knew what had happened. That he wanted to talk. That you were his best friend and he needed to see you.
The twins were laying side by side in Atsumu’s bed, neither asleep nor fully awake, when your reply came through.
I need some time, Tsumu.
The brothers shared a look across the mattress of Atsumu’s bed in the dim light of his bedroom, their eyes sore for crying and the harsh glare of the cellphone’s light.
They yielded.
A few day later, you finally reached out again, and agreed to meet Atsumu for dinner.
Just Atsumu.
The evening that Osamu knew the two of you were meeting without him, he was a mess. He burned half the food he tried to prepare at the restaurant, got a nasty cut on his finger when he was chopping carelessly, and almost charged a customer 250,000 yen for their 250 yen purchase. When the restaurant finally closed, he slumped over the counter with his head in his hands and waited.
Atsumu showed up not long after.
“It was weird," his brother confessed, fiddling with an edamame pod but never moving to bring it to his lips—curled down slightly as the corner as he spoke. "But I can’t go between the two of ya like this, and she can’t see me without thinking of you."
“She hates me,” Osamu rasped, a familiar, suffocating tightness swelling in his chest that had made a home there over the past two weeks. 
“She’s just upset,” Atsumu tried to console him, but Osamu could hear the wisp of frustration creeping into his twin’s tone. It wasn’t Atsumu’s fault—Osamu knew how hard this entire situation must have been for him, all as a result of the circumstances for which only he could bear the burden of blame. You’re Atsumu’s closest friend too, as much a part of the elder Miya twin’s life as you are the younger's, and Osamu didn’t take that fact for granted. Atsumu shut his eyes, sighing. “I think she’s confused, Samu. Hell, I’m confused and we shared a womb.”
Osamu’s eyes began to burn with a familiar, unpleasant prickle. He didn’t cry much about it anymore, now two weeks on, like he’d somehow run the well dry. But he’d occasionally get phantom pains behind his eyes, like the precursor to tears he knew couldn’t come. It was almost worse.
“I know,” the dark-haired twin finally muttered, his head hanging dejectedly.
“We’re gonna figure this shit out, but she’s gotta take some time to get things straight in her head first, alright?” Atsumu said softly, nudging his brother’s hand with his own, lending him encouragement in the warmth of their knuckles meeting. “Just give her that.”
So he did.
Osamu gave you another full month of time. 
Of space.
Of absence.
And now he’s here, six weeks to the day since everything went wrong.
Osamu drives home to Hyogo on a whim—the idea of spending another weekend holed up in his apartment, wondering each day if it would finally be the one where you call, is enough to make him feel sick. His apartment has never felt more suffocating than it has in your absence. Never felt smaller than it does without you in it, no matter how contradictory that sounds. It’s been a while since he went home to visit his mother and the boys from high school who stuck around into adulthood, and even though his childhood home is as rife with things that remind him of you as his current one, he can’t help but hope that the change of scenery might do him some good.
The Miya family home hasn’t changed much, if at all, since the twins were kids. As an adult, Osamu takes comfort from this fact—finds stability and familiarity in the walls and windows and roof that endure today in just the same way and in the same shape as they always have. His mother’s car isn’t in the driveway when he pulls in to complete the picture, but he hadn’t told her he was coming so he can’t blame her for not being there to welcome him. 
Osamu grabs his hastily packed duffle bag from the passenger’s seat of his truck, walking up the stone pathway his feet have trod upon so many times, in all their different sizes, to the door. He keeps his mother’s house key on his own keyring, because the last thing she’d said to him the day that he’d moved out—her hands, smaller than his own now that he’d grown so big, clasped around his as they held the little silver key—was that no matter what this would always be his home.
The genkan is the same. The coats in the closet are the same. The air smells the same, though there’s the faintest whisper of citrus in it as Osamu closes the front door behind him and toes off his shoes. His mother keeps two pairs of slippers at the door for him and Atsumu when they visit but his are missing for some reason, so he stuffs his feet into his brother’s designated pair before he pads off further into the home.
He can hear the television—the faint hum of a variety show or something similar drifting through the halls—and he laughs to himself that his mother has never quite been able to correct her bad habit of leaving the TV on even when she’s not watching it. He turns the corner into the living room, the sound of the television having grown louder the nearer he got.
And then he freezes.
The duffle bag he’d held loosely in his hand falls gracelessly to the floor.
And even though the television is right there, he can’t hear it anymore.
Because between him and the LCD screen, tucked under the kotatsu with a satsuma poised in hand half-peeled, is a face he hasn’t seen in six long weeks.
There, in the heart of the place that would always be his home, is you.
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tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years
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— addicted to you: one week
pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 1.2k
summary: minho has been on tour for weeks, he can't sleep, so you send him an audio message to help him relax aka minho humps a pillow.
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profanity. afab!reader. frottage. obsessiveness. hints of possessiveness. pet names. dirty talk. grinding. dry humping. breeding kink. size kink. mutual masturbation.
Minho had never been away from you for this long. Three weeks so far, another week to go. He called you each night before he went to sleep but often it was the middle of the work day for you and you couldn’t talk. He missed you more than he ever knew he could. You’d cried the morning he left and he’d promised it would go faster than you thought; he’d be home before you knew it. He’d been the comforting, calm one and now he felt like you were coping fine and he was the one on the brink of a meltdown. He’d considered many times missing a concert and coming home to see you, but he knew he’d be letting a lot of people down. If he was honest the main reason he’d held back was because when he’d mentioned the idea to you, you’d insisted he stayed. Made him promise he would. 
He was attempting to sleep now, tossing back and forth in the bed that was far too big and empty. He was used to wrapping himself around you, smelling your hair, cupping one of your tits with his hand as he spooned you. The body pillow he brought with him couldn’t compare. The clock on the nightstand flashed 3:30am, you should be off work. He reached over to grab his phone. 
    2 new messages 
    im guessing you are probably sleeping now but just letting you know i love you and i miss you
    can’t wait to see you
He quickly typed a reply. 
    can i call you
After what felt like 20 minutes of staring at the ceiling, phone grasped in his hand, it started vibrating. 
“Baby??”
“Why are you still awake? Isn’t it really late over there? I didn’t wake you did I?” The sounds of traffic in the background sounded so foreign after lying in silence for so many hours. 
“I couldn’t sleep, I miss you.” 
“I miss you too but you have to get some sleep; you’re so busy everyday.” You sounded slightly out of breath. 
“I can’t do this again.” 
“Do what? The tour? Aren’t you having fun? You were so excited- Sorry can I just get past you..” You were talking to someone else now. He assumed you were rushing for your train. 
“Being away from you.” 
“What happened to time would pass fast, huh? It’s only a week now, I'll see you soon.” 
“I- I know… one week… I'll see you soon…” 
“I love you, very much. Get some sleep.”
“Me, too. Yeah, yeah I will. Don’t worry.”
“Goodnight, love.”
“Night.”
Minho threw his phone over the side of the bed. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he could cry. 
Just as he was getting ready to submit to the tears his phone buzzed from the floor. He crawled the edge and leaned over, reaching to grab it and then pushing himself back up onto the bed, nearly falling off in the process. 
    4 new messages
    (audio) 
    i recorded this the other night when i was missing you very much
    i was too embarrassed to send it at the time but i think maybe you might need it now
    love u
He hit play right away and within a few seconds it was clear what you’d sent him. Your quiet whimpers filled the hotel room. Oh god, you were perfect. “Minho…. baby… I need you.” Your breathy voice reminded him of the way you’d sounded in the call; winded from rushing for your train. Fuck. “Miss you so much….” He could hear you shifting in your bed. “Been touching myself every night to the thought of you… wish you were here… so bad..” 
Minho rolled over and grabbed the body pillow, throwing one leg over it and putting the phone on one of the other pillows so he could listen to your pretty sounds. He often slept naked but tonight he was wearing his boxers. Most nights he would stroke himself to the thought of you, picturing your thighs wrapped around him, holding you up against the wall as he fucked you full.  
“I miss feeling you inside me,” you sounded so needy. “filling me up.” Minho’s hips started rolling against the pillow, holding it against him tightly. He loved having you against him like this. Sometimes in the middle of the night he’d wake up pressed up against you, your ass pressed into his crotch. When he’d grab you and pull you even tighter against his chest sometimes you’d wake up and sleepily murmer his name. How the fuck was he supposed to sleep in an empty hotel bed when he’d gotten used to that. 
“Feel so empty without you.” Fuck he wished you were under him instead of the pillow. You’d be so warm… soft. He rolled completely on top of it. Palms on the bed, giving himself enough leverage to fuck himself into the pillow like it was you, begging him to keep you nice and full. You always felt so small under him. He loved holding himself up on his forearms, each one on either side of your head, caging you in under his body. He was obsessed with you, he knew it wasn’t healthy. The way he wanted to keep you with him all the time. But fuck he loved it; feeling you under him like that, all his. Made him feel like you were all for him. His sweet little angel. 
He was muttering to himself now, “Need you too, baby…so soft for me….pretty baby… yeah….”. Your moans were getting louder and he could hear the sound of your wet pussy as you touched yourself. God he was gonna keep you locked up for days when he got back. Just keep you sitting on his cock, feeling that wet little pussy around him for hours. How the fuck had he gone without you for so long. He couldn’t do this again, he wouldn’t. He needed you. He groaned into the pillow. Precum was probably leaking through his boxers, he was making a mess. Just like you. He needed to slow down, make it last. He could only hear this audio for the first time once. By the end of the week he’d memorise it, each word you whimper, every pretty sound. 
You were chanting his name. “Minho… baby…. please…. Minho…” He started rutting faster into the pillow, panting as he struggled to hold himself back. You’d come any second, then he could follow you. You were so good for him, touching yourself while he was gone. Needy little thing. So sweet. He couldn’t stop himself, his cock throbbing as his thrusts became erratic. “Oh.. fuck,” He groaned as he felt the first pulse of cum wet his boxers. He heard you make the prettiest sound, finishing along with him. Grinding himself into the pillow as he rode out his orgasm he imagined your pretty face as you came. One week and he’d be seeing it again. He listened to your small giggle as he caught his breath, “I hope-I hope you liked it, baby. Miss you.” The audio ended. Minho rolled onto his back. He needed a shower. 
One week. 
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legitalicat · 3 months
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Out of Time
Chapter 6 - "I'll Beg You Nice from my Knees"
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AN: I am so sorry this took so long, I have had some medical testing done and had some health episodes so I couldn't dedicate as much time as I wanted to with this chapter. I hope you like it! This dedication has been removed. Also the title is a line from "All I Wanted" by Paramore cause that song went through my mind a lot during this chapter. In another life, reader would be with Erryk.
If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!
Please feel free to leave any thoughts below! Definitely not required but so appreciated.
Find the series masterlist here!
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Summary: Three weeks. That is how long it took Y/N to get any of the men back in her company after the horrific dinner. She didn't spend the entire time angry, though. She just didn't understand what she did to make them avoid her. All she wanted was to have them.
TW: A lot of reflection on the Driftmark incident, a lot of anger, vaginal fingering, mentions of substance use, mentions of violence, angst, talks of injury, character death of sorts but in the past and not anyone major, profanity, Aemond being dirty af
Relationship: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, talks of Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Reader, talks of Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen (not explicit but realized it's a thing)
Word Count: 4.8k
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Mother and Alicent had come to help escort me back to my room after the dinner. Ser Erryk provided the physical support I needed while they were providing me some emotional. It was nice to be with them and not be expected to say anything about the dinner.
Time began to pass in a blur in a way that made me unable to distinguish the days from one another. I was aware of Mother and Alicent both agreeing, given how hurt I still was, that the homecoming feast should wait a few weeks. It was fine with me, as I did not want to even have a feast to begin with. The mornings were spent in the dragon pit with the children.
The five of them loved that I went with them. The keepers helped me to bring Vhaela out so that the two of us could get reacquainted while the kids learned with an adult dragon. It was always nice to spend time with her. Feeding her was one of my favorite things. She was so proud of herself when she blew fire to cook the meat provided she always looked to me for approval.
And in the evenings, I soothed my aches with a warm bath and biscuit. That part was nice too. Something about feeling the water wash over me as the fuzziness took over my brain allowed me to truly relax.
Well, as relaxed as I could be when neither of the men that declared my hand was theirs came to speak with me. At first, I would’ve only accepted them talking to me to apology for making a scene. Aemond and Jacaerys truly could not get past the stupid competition they alone create, and that had caused such a fuss so many times.
Then morning came and I just hoped one of them would at least come to check on me. Hours passed by that day and still neither came to find me. Even after sending my new handmaid, a young girl named Elayna Tyrell, to bring them to me, they did not come. Why were they avoiding me?
Though what made less sense was how Aegon avoided me. Correction. How he avoided me during my conscious hours was what didn’t make sense. I could tell by the way my pillow smelled of him that he would lay beside me as I slept. Knowing him he probably held me.
After it became several days without sight of any of them, I began to deflate. And then it became nearly three weeks. What did I do wrong?
Mother and Alicent were with me as the Maester were doing their daily examination. It was how I started most of my days. Mother and Alicent would bring breakfast to me and they sat with me until the exam was finished.
“Any pain the last few days?” he asked as he ran his fingers along my ribs.
“No. I have not needed to use the biscuits for physical pain, only at night to ease me to sleep,” I said to him. It no longer felt painful or inconvenient to move. My busted lip had healed. Finally I felt like myself.
“Any memories or visions further than what we’ve discussed?” he asked me quietly, so low that Mother and Alicent would not hear.
That was a more complicated matter. Every night I dreamt of being in complete darkness, only for the small red vial to turn up and be the only light source. I would walk towards it. Hours could pass and I would only be just approaching it, when a woman would appear just as it had.
This woman was devastatingly beautiful. Her hair and eyes looked to be made of flames, contrasting greatly against her pale skin. If one could imagine the ideal woman’s body, I believe they would imagine this woman. Full breasts yet an otherwise slender figure, the way any man preferred his whores. She constantly wore robes that matched the red of her hair and eyes. And around her neck laid a golden choker embedded with rubies.
This was not a woman I had memory of ever seeing. Believe me when I say she was so beautiful I know I would remember her. Her haunting my dreams every night was enough to make me certain of that.
None of that was new. What was, however, was her speaking. She would reach out, taking the vial in her hand, only to offer it to me while saying the words, “Gūrogon bisa skori ao jaelagon naejot sagon lenton.” It was Valyrian, and roughly translated to, “Take this when you want to go home.”
Only telling the Maester of this woman felt the best way to go about it. If Mother knew, she would tear the whole Kingdom brick from brick until she found this woman. I could not predict anyone else’s response nor did I really want to think about it.
“Nothing I am certain of,” I responded, which only garnered a nod.
He stepped away from my body and turned to Mother. “She is as healed as she can be. The damage done to her bones may always be there. You can feel an indent in the fifth and sixth ribs, where I suspect the bones ended together.”
“That will not affect her further?” Alicent asked him, speaking for Mother.
My jaw tightened. While I was not entirely sure what was going on between them, I was not a huge fan. Alicent speaking for Mother, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, as though she still had any right. How was it fair or possible that Alicent got to sit at the side of the Iron Throne for so long?
“No, Your Grace,” he said to Alicent before turning to look to me. “Though I would recommend caution. Bones once broken could be easier to break.”
“Luckily I have no plans of being further beaten or tortured,” I muttered, earning a sharp look from Mother. “Sorry.”
I thought it was hilarious. Though I always thought I was funnier than those around me. Jace found me funny.
“And what is your opinion on me flying?” I asked him. I was aware how eager I sounded.
“I see no reason to restrict you further,” he said.
Whatever else was said between Mother, Alicent, and the Maester was lost on me. Slipping behind the partition, I pulled on my riding dress.
It belonged to Mother when she was young, before the way her body changed with pregnancy. It was a simple black with grey fastenings. A slit ran up the middle of the skirt so that while standing it appeared to be a normal skirt, yet it parted when I would be mounted on Vhaela. Black scale accents adorned the shoulders and the lower quarter of the sleeves. The fabric was heavy, helping avoid any chill.
I did not do anything particularly special with my hair. The front section on either side, less than an inch, got pulled back away from my face into a small braid. With that, I was ready.
When I stepped out from behind the partition, the Maester was gone. Thank the gods.
“I do not think you should go flying yet,” Mother told me as she stood from her chair.
“You cannot stop me,” I said firmly.
“Y/N” she said, beginning to explain her reasoning.
“No. No. I have been reasonable and compliant this entire time. You two want to play house and pretend the past did not happen, and I have not spoken a word. You both prepare a grand feast that will happen in two days time and I accept it without argument despite not wanting it. Being poked and prodded by the Maester every morning before I even have finished my breakfast has been irritating to no end but still I stayed silent,” I said, feeling a fire build up inside of me. “I went eighteen years, waiting for a dragon while all my brothers’ eggs hatched! Aegon and Helaena had a dragon before I could even form a thought! Even Aemond had Vhagar by the time he was ten! And yet I only had weeks with Vhaela before five years was stolen from me!”
“Rhaenyra, she has a point,” Alicent said to her, taking her hand. The way Mother relaxed made me freeze.
That was what it was. Why Mother allowed Alicent a seat, even still. Why Mother had clung to the idea of the Alicent of their girlhood, even when Alicent was a nightmare. They were in love.
“You would need to chain me in the black cells to keep from her,” I whispered, stepping forward to take her hands in my own. “I am not leaving. I am not disappearing. But Vhaela more than anything is my birthright as a Targaryen.”
She looked between me and Alicent. I could see the thoughts brewing in her mind, trying to find a way to convince both of us to keep me here. Yet, I was my mother’s daughter, blood of the dragon. There was nothing keeping me where I did not want to be.
“Take Aemond or Jace with you,” she instructed me.
Despite not wanting to give them more opportunity to ignore me, I did not want to keep arguing with Mother. Any fight between Targaryens could turn explosive rather quickly. It is why I am grateful that there was no war for Mother’s crown. Had there been, I imagine our entire family would be gone, if not the entire kingdom.
Without another word, I left the room. Erryk was immediately by my side. His presence was comforting, as I found in recent weeks he was my greatest company. And in truth, he wasn’t a bad looking man either. If he hadn’t taken the oath preventing him from taking a wife, I may have said screw the other three and just chosen him.
“Where are we headed, Princess? I assume the Dragon Pit?” he asked as we walked. He looked me up and down, giving a small smile at my attire.
“First we need to find either Jace or Aemond,” I muttered.
“You have not desired to see them for a while now. What’s changed?” he asked me.
“I have been permitted to fly again. Mother, however, insists I take one of the two of them,” I explained. He said nothing else.
As we walked, I knew where both men would be. Aemond would most likely be in the training yard. Despite having been a very accomplished swordsman by his sixteenth nameday, he continued training just as obsessively as before. And Jace? On days like today, where the sun was hidden just enough to avoid hurting one’s eyes but glimmered through the clouds like a treasure waiting to be found, he liked to go down to the shoreline and watch the boats.
My heart pulled me in two different directions. Jace was who my head told me I should want. He truly had been my other half. There was no way I could ever exist without him. Yet still he stayed away. He was the type of person to use the silent treatment as a punishment. Whenever I had made him angry, he would go long bouts of time without saying a thing to me. The longest he went was three months.
Yet Aemond felt like who I wanted to spend time with the most. He was who I wanted to make see my side of things. These last few weeks had driven me crazy because he had refused to come to me. He had never stayed far from my side for more than a few hours if we were in the same place.
My heart decided I needed Aemond. I needed him like one needs to breathe. It felt as though without him life did not make sense.
Instead of turning right at the end of the corridor to leave through the main doors of the Keep, I turned left. It was the fastest way to the training yard. Well, actually, from my room there was a secret corridor hidden behind this dragon statue that lead directly to the training yard, with a few offshoots to get to other rooms around the Keep. But given the fact I don’t want many people knowing about it, including Erryk, it was smarter for me to take this way.
“You look well, Princess,” Erryk commented as we passed several members of Court.
Members of Court were lords and ladies who came from houses that felt they deserved to live among us, yet were evidently unimportant enough that they could abandon their holdings to play dress up with royals. In truth they disgusted me as a general rule. What bothered me was not that they were not royalty, I truthfully couldn’t care less about birth status. No, it bothered me that they would so carelessly abandon their duties at their own homes to come and live in mine.
Perhaps if they just were happy to live here it would not be so terrible. Yet, they would eat the food we had and take the benefits of being a member of court to live lavish lifestyles, all while spreading rumors of our lives. I did not like liars. I did not like people who benefit from lies they spread.
That’s not to say all members of Court were bad. When I was little I had a handmaid named Tarla Greyjoy who was absolutely lovely. She was kind to me, got along with the rest of my family without trying to insert herself into relationships. She didn’t try to get Jacaerys to marry her instead of me like some girls did. And most importantly, she was a very good secret keeper.
She had died when she was thirteen and I was fourteen. We had been sailing to Driftmark so that Jace and I could visit our grandparents, and naturally I had her with me. I didn’t know how scared she was of storms. We sailed right into one and in a panic, she slipped on the deck. To this day I don’t really understand, but she fell in such a way that her neck broke and she died instantly. I was inconsolable for days. She had been my friend for nearly ten years, stood by my side every day during that time. I missed her dearly, but if I gave her too much thought it resulted in a crippling panic attack.
When we stepped out into the training yard, it was not a surprise to see Aemond. He moved gracefully with every swing of his sword. It was like watching Caraxes do his mating dance for Syrax in a way. Which if I were honest sounds a lot dorkier than it was.
He didn’t notice me at first, I don’t think. He was solely focused on his opponent, who I vaguely recognized as another member of Court. The opponent came from a lesser house, I think House Redwyne, and those types of men always liked the chance to get close as possible to us. They also always liked to flirt with Helaena and I to try to make us fall in love and get all gooey when we see them so they can improve their station.
With a swift jab of the sword’s pommel into the shoulder from Aemond, the Redwyne lordling stumbled. In mere seconds, Aemond swept his legs out from under him then held the tip of the sword to his throat. I couldn’t help but to smirk.
Aemond hadn’t used wooden swords to train since about a year after he lost his eye. He said there was no joy for him in it if there was no danger in it. To me, it always sounded like he secretly wished to be injured again.
Mother allowed me to stay by his side for a month after the incident in Driftmark. That month was the worst time of his life, I think. He had to begin to relearn everything before he had even stopped feeling pained from his injury. His depth perception was completely off which hindered his ability to feed himself, to traverse the Keep by himself, or really do much of anything.
He was angry, too, angrier than I had ever seen him. He was angry at my brothers, my mother, his mother, even the gods could’ve feared his wrath. Yet, I was the one person spared his anger, and all he wanted was for me to stay by his side. His reasoning?
That night on Driftmark, I told the truth. That Aemond had woken me up to share with me the chance to claim Vhagar. That when he got back from his inaugural flight, Rhaena was angered by his claim on Vhagar. That her and Baela’s anger caused them to attack Aemond. That he pushed me out of the way before defending himself. Then my brothers jumped in, and eventually it became all of them beating Aemond.
I think what really sealed it that night, at least for Aemond and especially for Alicent, was that I confirmed it was Jace who had brought the knife. He was the one to introduce it.
Jace filled in the words. How Aemond was vicious and violent in his words. That Aemond had called my brothers bastards. Which Jace made sure to glare at me that night as he said that, as to remind me that meant Aemond called me a bastard. And he made sure to point out that Luke only did that to protect his family. Completely ignoring the fact that Aemond was family.
I want to be very clear that I do not believe Luke should have lost his eye as punishment. Alicent suggesting that made my stomach twist and turn back then, and still does to this day. I do, however, believe that my brothers never received punishment for anything they did.
Like why did it matter more to Mother the words that Aemond said rather than the fact her sons were among the attackers? Why did Jace continue to get to carry a knife while I returned home and was forbidden from Jace’s side for three months? When it was I who saw that the actions of those four weighed just as heavily as the words of Aemond? Why did Mother completely forget that Jace made Aemond’s life hell for not having a dragon, making him feel lesser than, while I sat there and listened to him belittle someone in the same position I was in?
And to be honest, it wasn’t as though Aemond was wrong. Yes, it was technically treasonous of him to say it out loud. But again, he wasn’t wrong. Vaemond Velaryon was not wrong. We are bastards. Our blood is Harwin Strong. Not a drop of Velaryon blood resides in our veins. Though, they could’ve said it less disgustedly.
It was doubtful anyone could understand how frustrating these thoughts are. They made me feel as though I betray Mother and my brothers by acknowledging the circumstances of our birth. But, if I denounce Aemond for speaking that, it is like I am calling him a liar, which he isn’t. Truly, it feels like no matter what I feel about that situation, I am screwed.
Aemond noticed me at that point. Given the way his head snapped up in my direction, I imagine I let out a grunt of frustration. He looked almost ashamed when he saw me.
Good.
“Prince Aemond, a word if you will,” I said loudly to him. We were about five feet apart, so I did not have to practically yell it to him. But I spoke louder than needed so that he would have no choice.
Wordlessly, he put his sword in its scabbard and walked over to me. Just having him within arms reach again was enough to make me feel my heart rate increase. Fucking Seven Hells, I love him so much.
“Princess,” he said quietly, giving me a subtle nod of his head.
“You are to accompany me in flight, as requested by Her Grace the Queen,” I told him firmly.
Sometimes, I really liked pulling rank. It was truly the only thing he would listen to at times. He was annoyingly stubborn. Not in the way that most anyone with a cock was, but in a special and overwhelming way.
“And where are you wishing to go, Princess?” he asked me.
“I think perhaps Felwood. A short flight from here, three hours tops,” I said, shrugging a bit.
He nodded and motioned for me lead the way. I tried to relax my jaw as it tightened in annoyance. He was still wanting to put a distance between us.
“Ser Erryk, you are dismissed for the time being. I shall seek you out when I return,” I said to Erryk. The sweet knight nodded and took his leave.
Now there was no buffer between Aemond and I. He could not feign interest in anyone else’s life. He could not ignore me.
We walked in silence from the training yard, though he did still give me his arm to hold. The walk from the Keep to the Dragon Pit typically talk about an hour and a half. They were about five miles apart. When I went there with the children, we always took a carriage. When I was with Aemond, though, he preferred the walk.
Passing by several shops on the streets of city, several shopkeepers and their patrons stared at us. I wasn’t entirely sure why but they had never approached us. Mother always feared they would mob me. Though they didn’t seem to care most of the time. Maybe it was because I had spent so much time among them they saw me more as a person.
“It wasn’t just us that missed you,” Aemond said quietly. I looked to him immediately, my heart speeding up as he pulled me closer. “The people of the city missed you as well.”
He was probably right. Before my disappearance, I worked hard to gain the love and respect of the citizens of King’s Landing. It wasn’t that I needed everyone in the world to like me. But I knew, more than anything, that one day these people would be my people. One day I would be their Queen. And it is easier to rule people that love you.
“You hurt me,” I told him as we kept walking.
He sighed rather loudly. “I know.”
“I’m not speaking of the dinner, Aemond. Which, by the way, was a dick move for a lot of reasons. But I’m talking about the fact that today is the first time since that you’ve spoken to me,” I said.
I was trying desperately to hold my voice steady. Every part of me wanted to scream at him. It wasn’t even necessarily anger that made me feel this way. It was just there was so much crap in my head and in my heart, and he didn’t seem to get it.
“I was embarrassed,” he admitted.
“Gods, I can’t imagine why you would be,” I muttered rather harshly.
Immediately, he went back to being quiet. I wanted to kick myself in the head. Why did I have to say that?
This was not the first time in my life I had said something that caused instant regret. Hells, it was not even the first time since I’ve returned that I’ve done it. I tended to speak before I thought at times when I really should just be quiet.
The rest of our walk was in silence. In the near hour and a half it takes to walk from the Red Keep to the Dragon Pit, he only said maybe twenty words to me. I longed for his voice, his declarations of love. Yet, because of who I am I could not receive them.
Aemond discussed with the keepers that we wish to fly. He spoke quietly with them, so quietly it was obvious he did not want me to hear, telling them they only need bring Vhaela. They had nodded in understanding near immediately before shuffling off to bring Vhaela to me.
“You do understand the rules are I have to take you with me, yes?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“I shall fly on Vhaela with you,” he said simply.
My face heated up as blood rushed to my cheeks. Aemond had always told me that I needed to fly on a dragon before I had my own. So we went weekly into the skies, grateful to Vhagar that she was so good. The last time we rode on the same dragon was before I had Vhaela. It was not the feeling of flying that I remembered from that trip. No, it was the feeling of his cock buried inside me that was the only thing I could remember.
I caught him looking at me and smirking. That caused my cheeks to heat up even more. My breath caught in the space between my lungs and my throat and a fire burned inside me, nestled in the svalley between my thighs.
“You remember,” he said quietly. We were all alone in this moment.
“How could I not?” I whispered. Feeling emboldened by his obvious or perhaps just stupid, I changed our position. Now I stood chest to chest with him.
“Which part do you remember most, my love?” he whispered to me. His hands found my waist to hold me close. Though they didn’t stay there, slowly working their way back and down.
I took a deep breath. He was looking at me with such an intensity it felt like he could burn a hole in my soul. All I could think was how the ache between my thighs was becoming overwhelming. If he could hear my heart, he would hear it thudding against my chest harder with every passing second.
“Or how about you tell me your memories of it?” I whispered, smirking up at him. “After all, you’re the one who needs to make up for your behavior.”
He chuckled as his hands worked their way over my ass and around to my front. “Always been a brat, haven’t you? Can’t do as you are told?” he asked. His voice was quiet and deep.
“I listen to those who deserve it,” I said to him. My breath caught in my throat as his fingers moved past the parting of my skirt. They brushed against my clit through the thin material of the shift I wore underneath. The touch was so light one could miss it.
“And if I beg you for forgiveness?” he whispered, watching my face intently as he increased the pressure of his touch. There was no denying the pleasure of it.
“Get to begging,” I practically commanded him. I couldn’t help but to inch my hips forward.
Gods if I had any ounce of self respect I would push him away. I wouldn’t allow him to touch me like this without a proper apology. In fact, I perhaps should’ve championed for Aegon to accompany me just to prove my point to Aemond. That it was not fair of him to ignore me when I had done nothing wrong.
But as he rubbed my clit through the flimsy skirt of my shift, I couldn’t help but lean against him. My forehead was pressed against his chest, my breathing becoming ragged. I gripped his wrist tightly as I felt that all too familiar band tightening behind my navel.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered when I finally let out a breathy moan. “Should’ve been doing this for you the entire time. I promise, baby, I won’t be so stupid ever again.”
With his free hand, he lifted the shift up enough to where he could touch my clit directly. I let out a loud moan, one that caused him to chuckle. His thumb stayed firmly pressed against my clit, moving in tight little circles, as he moved his other fingers to my entrance.
“So wet for me, baby,” he whispered in my ear before pushing his fingers inside. Right off the bat he started with two. His fingers were long and slender, feeling heavenly inside me. “You deserve the world you know that?”
“Fuck, Aemond,” I moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out.
He eagerly worked my cunt as he continued to rub my clit. My grip on his wrist tightened as I began seeing stars.
“That’s it, such a good girl,” he praised me as the band behind my navel finally snapped. Orgasmic bliss washed over me. “Such a perfect girl. Do you forgive, princess?”
I only just managed to pull myself away as the Keeper surfaced with Vhaela in tow. Aemond was smirking at me. He maintained eye contact with me as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean. I swear to the gods he moaned.
“Perhaps,” I told him quietly, smirking a bit before walking over to Vhaela.
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gaintsnowflake · 9 months
Text
𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘
PAIRING : Anthony Lockwood x gn!reader
ONESHOT : in which after a breakup a sweet stranger comforts you
TRIGGERS : flashbacks of cheating, a breakup, and being kicked-out
A/N : This is aged up so that Lockwood is nineteen for the purposes of I don't know why the reader would move in with her boyfriend if they are under eighteen, also please do not let random sad strangers off the street into your house no matter how stunning they are or vice versa. Sorry if this is badly written, currently going through a lot, so I didn’t get to go through it as much as I would have liked. This is mainly fluff, but their is of course angst because of the ex-boyfriend.
WORD COUNT : 1.7k
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"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"
A stranger's voice took me away from my thoughts as I continued to sit on the kerb of Portland Row, sobbing.
"Oh- uh, sorry. I will be," I attempted to whip away the tears streaming down my face, failing as only more left my eyes.
It must have been a sad sight, seeing someone late teens, early twenties, sitting on the kerb crying their eyes out. Especially since I have been out here for well over two hours. And even worse it had to only be a few minutes till curfew. 
Just as I thought I had successfully gotten the stranger to go away I heard someone sit next to me. I looked up slightly analyzing the boy who has sat down. He was dressed very formally as if he owned some sort of business, but he couldn't have been much older than me if at all. His eye bags were prominent, he looked as if he hadn't slept in days. His tie was a completely different colour from his socks, the tie being blue and his socks being bright pink. He gave me a grin as he put his hand on my shoulder.
"Lockwood, Anthony Lockwood," he greeted me. "Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong? I can't have a girl crying out front of my house, may draw away business." He laughed lightly at my joke before asking if I was okay.
Before I could answer, I just started crying once again. Tears flooded my vision as I leaned into him. Which I probably shouldn't do, but I just continue to cry as he starts to hug me allowing me to cry on his shoulder.
After a few minutes, I pulled away, whipping away the tears again, this time they nearly completely stopped. I looked at his shirt, the white of the dress shirt was nearly see-through as my tears soaked into it.
"Sorry," I looked away from him, fidgeting with my fingers."
It's okay, love-" a few tears spilt at the nickname but I was quick to whip them away- "What happened?"
I took a deep breath, preparing myself to relieve the memories of about three hours ago.
---
"Patrick? Patrick, I am home," I called as I stood in the doorway.
Our door was left unlocked, that should have been my first red flag. The second should have been the rushed movement I heard from our room.
Hesitantly, I walked into our room, preparing to be met by a criminal of some sort, but instead, I was met with my boyfriend of two years naked, trying to hide another woman in our closet.
My world stopped and shattered at the sight. It felt like my heart had been crushed into thousands of pieces and then stomped on.
My hands ran into my hair as I began to pull at it. My eyes closed as I felt the tears start.
"y/n," I heard his voice say, trying to calm me down as he stepped towards me. I only walked backwards as I opened my eyes and put one of my hands in front of me and the other around my body. "I can, I can explain I promise."
"What is there to explain, Patrick? What is there to explain?" The words out of my mouth sounded venomous as I backed out of the room.
"Look, I have needs," He started, almost acting as if he was the victim in this twisted crime. "You weren't satisfying me, I needed someone who could. Please, love, just understand."
"Oh my god. Oh my god! You are acting like you are the victim here! Like you didn't fucking do anything wrong. Like you weren't just fucking cheating on me."
"Y/n, listen."
"No, I am not fucking listening for you to try and tell me how much of a victim you are and that I shouldn't blame you for going and sleeping with another. How long has this been going on?"
"Y/n..."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Six months," his voice was now rising at me as well as this was beginning to turn into a screaming match.
"Is she the only one?" Silence. "Answer me, Patrick. Is she the only one?"
"No, of fucking course not."
"Oh my fucking god. Do you know how low this is?"
"I have needs, y/n, you couldn't fucking meet them so I found someone who could."
"You fucking cunt. I can't believe you. I honestly can't believe you. Going off with another girl because I didn't turn you on enough? Is that all a relationship is? A sex life?"
"No, y/n, I still love you that's why I never left. That's why I never-"
"Obviously you don't fucking love me enough, to go fucking other people behind my back. You should have just fucking broken up with me."
"Fine then. We are over. Get the fuck out of my house."
"You're kicking me out just like that?"
"Yes, get the fuck out. Now. You can come back for your shit another day."
"Fuck you, Patrick, fuck you."
With that I stormed out of the house, tears streaming down my face. I sobbed knowing that I didn't have a place to stay the night. No family to go home to. I ran away for him. 
After ten minutes of walking, I found a small street called Portland Row. I sat down on the corner, my face in my hands as I sat on the kerb.
---
"My boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, I just caught him cheating on me. He kicked me out after we had a screaming match. I just have nowhere to go for the night," I explained to Lockwood as he kept a hand on my arm, rubbing it as if he was trying to comfort me. "So I just have been out here, trying to figure everything out."
"Come on, you can stay at mine for the night. There is only two minutes till curfew so we should get you safe," he told me as he stood up. He outstretched his hand, trying to help me up.
"I can't ask that of you... Besides, how will I know you aren't a murderer?" I stared at him, staying seated.
"I assure you I mean no harm, I am just a young man who runs an agency to help a pretty woman out. Now would you like to come inside and get some rest? I have tea if you would like."
I sat there for a few seconds before taking his hand. Staying with him was safer than sleeping on the streets, I know that. Besides, I am exhausted from the long hours I worked and all of the crying.
"Great, come on, let's get inside."
Lockwood led me inside one of the houses on Portland Row, it looked very homey. The thing that caught me off guard was an umbrella rack that had been used to house rapiers, which I then noticed the rapier Lockwood had on him.
I heard a few other voices talking in another room, but Lockwood told me to pay no mind and it was just his co-workers, reminding me that he did say he runs an agency. He led me to a room with two couches and a chair. It was fairly messy, but it gave a rather lived-in feeling. I was instantly at ease, admiring the old house.
"I'll be right back, I am going to go get you a blanket and pillows," Lockwood walked out leaving me in the room by myself.
 As I sat there on my own I began to run my fingers on the objects on the mantle, the couches, and the table. Finally, I sat down on the couch, which was ten times comfier than I expected.
The tears in my eyes had completely disappeared now. I felt a lot better than a few moments ago.
"Hey, I am back! I brought multiple since I don't know how many you would like."
Lockwood looked at me as he began to set down three pillows, two on the floor and one on the couch. He then put down a folded blanket next to me on the couch.
"I don't think I can thank you enough Lockwood, really, this means so much."
"No worries. You get yourself settled for the night, alright? In the morning, I'll make you some tea and we can talk about it."
"Yes, yes, I will pay you back as soon as I can."
"Don't worry about that right now, just let's focus on getting you back on your feet. Now get some rest, alright," He gave a smile, very similar to the grin he gave me outside.
"Thank you, again, I don't know what I would've done if you didn't give me this opportunity."
Lockwood went to leave but only after a few steps he turned around to face me. He walked back and kneeled down to my level as I sat on the couch, he took my hand in his, caressing it. 
"I am sorry about your boyfriend, I can tell you didn't deserve it, you seem like a great person. Stay strong, that dick didn't deserve you. There are better people out there, I am sure you will find them. Just keep your head up."
I looked at him, tears brimming my eyes as I gave him a half smile. "I don't know what I did to deserve to you meet you, but I am so happy I did."
"Get some sleep, alright?" His smile turned softer as he began to stand up.
Before he could go, I grabbed his wrist preventing him to leave. He turned to face me, once again, but this time a confused look played on his face.
"Could you," I stopped myself realizing how odd of a request this would be. I let go of his wrist before continuing. "Nevermind, it's fine. Have a good night Lockwood."
A look of worry crossed his face briefly, "What is it you wanted to ask?
""No, no, stupid honestly."
"Are you sure?"
"It's just... I haven't slept alone in two years. Could you stay?" I closed my eyes bracing to either be kicked out of the house or yelled at. "I'm sorry, I know it's asking a lot, you don't have to say yes."
"Of course, I will stay," He smiled at me once again before sitting next to me. He rests his hand on my knee as I lay my head on his shoulder. "Just, go to sleep, I will be here, don't you worry."
I smiled at him before closing my eyes. I slowly went to sleep, my mind nearly completely distracted from my breakup, by the boy I was resting on. I am so happy that I found such a SWEET BOY.
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darlingpwease · 9 months
Note
It would be funny if the system did allow reader to become Shang Qinghua disciple and make him a father figure to them as a little treat for being the author.
Shang Qinghua would be a father who will spoil reader. Bonus points reader knows some memes because Shang Qinghua taught them.
Reader probably doesn’t take him seriously at times but is protective of him.
Reader: He may be an idiot but he’s my idiot.
Shen Yuan is probably smacking his fan at Shang Qinghua for this (or perhaps he’s jealous because reader won’t be his disciple like he expected)
shang qinghua is my lil meow meow<33 deserves to be called daddy tbh he is the author after all /hj /affectionate
creator's favourite<3
reader: wow hehe silly guy who thinks he's my dad... I love it in shifus.
♡ unhealthy behaviour, pet names, mention of violence, adoptive family themes, parent/child dynamic (and some pinning from shen yuan but you can treat it as you want); drabble + headcanons
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But more seriously, SHANG QINGHUA actually looks like someone who will be a good father to his cute little darling sweetest summer baby boo that he sometimes just wants to put in a box and shake or put in the palm of his hand and watch with wet eyes, trembling.
He was doing research... And it's normal for men to get carried away with cute things... And gosh — who can say that you are his favorite character and no one can be your fan even more than he is?
(one may try to compete, but he prefers to ignore the existence of Cucumber Bro, although he admits that in some things he has a taste, especially with this cute art, similar to how he represented you, as his pfp.)
(he also puts your art on his pfp, because no one else can be your big fan.)
It's not that you are described in any way at all or look especially against the background of other characters — apart from the fact that he may be too self-indulgent when he describes you as candy for eyes whenever you appear, as if you are a character from a much better story, but what can he do??? — and your backstory may look like one of those that he created for a long time and thoughtfully, as if connecting the pieces of a puzzle, putting his mind, heart and hours into you that he could have spent sleeping instead, but!
He doesn't regret it.
Even in the morning, when he slept for only two or three hours, he does not regret that for just a few hours he said to himself, "it's okay, it's okay, just a couple more words and that's it..."
Every author should have two favorite characters in the story — one whom he wants to associate with himself (or next to whom he wants to associate) and one whom he wants to wrap in a blanket, put on his chest, kiss on the forehead and saying that they are gorgeous and beautiful. After all, for the audience, he has a beautiful cold cultivator and a fateful passionate demoness, so he can have his beautiful cold demon and his charming bright cultivator, right?
Perhaps you are not part of Binghe's harem (not his cutie!!! too precious!!! his baby can't be part of something like that!!!) and such a detailed study, which is hidden behind your description, does not make much sense, but it makes him happy, especially when he can introduce you to the narrative, briefly describe or invent what you can say. His cute little meow meow, who is Luo Binghe's senior fellow disciple under Shen Qingqiu's care (no you don't need that character development where you experience bullying!!! he has the right to be delusional in his works!!!), and tries to do something to the best of your ability, even if there is little you can really help...
... You die in a battle against demons. Although in his drafts a plan of how you actually survived, it was also not very pleasant for him to write this scene, even if it was pleasant to describe an emotionally strong reaction, — and subsequent plans for revenge and murder also had some therapeutic effect, — but no, brother Cucumber, he does not feel any pleasant feelings at all from having killed his pet! And he is not at all happy that he killed the only worthy character!!
And your death was not at all predictable because of how pure and catchy you were!!!
"... Maybe a little delusional after all," SHANG QINGHUA thinks when looks at you. Small, with a straight back and an indefinite peak, although he knows that you will become a member of another peak, and this realization for the first time causes him damage to such an extent that he wants to cough up blood. He just wants to get on knees, hug you and shake, but instead can only watch — and when the System says that he can get you as his disciple, since he has already become the head of the peak?
Yes, your participation in the plot is important, but not to this exte–
Not a word more — he doesn't hesitate for a second!
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SHANG QINGHUA treats you like a mother hen with an egg, wanting to just constantly take you in arms and kiss cheeks like a proud father, and for sure he has... moments where you allow yourself some tenderness because of which he falls to the ground, covering face, as if you killed him with charm, while you look down on him — at first frowning and worried, then you just pull him up yourself.
At some point, you even begin to like it; one day you even allow yourself to call him 'father' — but when he almost has a deviation of qi from what you call him, you never do it again, even if now he definitely desperately wants to hear it again. But — no way; how will you explain to the head of Qian Cao Peak why your father shifu looks like this? It would be extremely embarrassing, especially if you still had to drag him.
No.
Never.
(you still unwittingly unconsciously call him that several times, though — and each time SHANG QINGHUA understands that if he dies right now, he will die happy.)
Your backstory is definitely the story of an orphan or an abandoned child, even if it has some noble origin, and it's hard to deny that being immediately in the adoring and pampering presence of the head of An Ding Peak, who deals with all economic affairs and supplies in the sect, being literally the peak of logistics, is a little overwhelming... at first. Someone may view An Ding Peak as useless or meaningless, but when all the supply, procurement, economic transactions are circulating around one peak, and this is not something secret...
... can't your loveable father afford to pamper his beloved child?
You were such a sweet and smart disciple who always follows him (at his request, but you could also theoretically disobey him, so he should reward you anyway!), how can SHANG QINGHUA not try to make you smile and be spoiled?
He knows how bad life was for you, he described it all himself, so he only makes amends to you, even if you definitely do not know because of whom in some sense you had such a past, but only look at him as a parental figure who is always ready to help, protect and pamper you. SHANG QINGHUA always brings your favorite food (which you share! wow! this is definitely fate!), gives you the best, sometimes even unparalleled, clothes or things of the best quality — and never neglects you, as if your very presence activates in him all this incomprehensible desire to protect and adore you.
Does he spoil you too much?... Yes — but you forget one fact: he is also the proud father of one little sweet celestial whom he wrote especially for himself and now can shamelessly love them! Period!
Perhaps the only thing SHANG QINGHUA violently opposes is your fights with anyone, even if you are a head disciple and a member of a sect that, in addition to the economy, is often forced to deal with the dirtier and borderline gray or obviously black things common in the world of cultivators, — but SHANG QINGHUA knows that the sect will be destroyed much earlier what will you become the head... so what's stopping the two of you from just living your life together? Somewhere in a house near the city or in a small but rich city, where you can spend your life in a carefree and moderate pace until old age next to him, needing nothing and never shedding tears... a small pond for you or a garden where you can grow whatever you want, or a place where you will raise small or not-so-small animals...
SHANG QINGHUA is not the most active or aggressive person, he does not seek to expand influence at all, as the original owner of the body did, but when he gently combs your hair, looking at your straight back, he understands that this is impossible if he wants you to survive. Yes, he described that you 'didn't die' and even put forward several ideas about what happened to you after, but now, looking at you, none of them suits him. Why should you suffer? Isn't what was in the original novel enough for you? Don't you deserve to live in comfort and safety?
He is your father — not in the biological sense, but in a much more important way, in both of his lives, and it is natural that your future falls on his shoulders, since he has made the past for you and takes care of you in the present. He would prefer a calm, trouble-free life with the flow, but when SHANG QINGHUA looks at you rejoicing at his gifts as if for the first time or trying to take part of his responsibilities and difficulties to help, how can he think only of himself?
Maybe that's why he's here — to make you happy and make sure you'll never be sad again. After all, SHANG QINGHUA gave you his soul, so it's natural that he could even overcome reality itself and time to be there — and if you think about it like that, then everything falls into place!
His ability to take you as his disciple and almost-child, his need to pamper you, his adoration...
“Shifu?...”
He loves you so much that his heart bursting.
“Shifu, why are you lying down again???”
Papa will protect you.
Shen Yuan really tries not to get angry, but when he sees SHANG QINGHUA shamelessly purring and spoiling you, clearly mocking him about the fact that you love him as your 'dad' shifu, the desire to hit becomes much stronger.
It's not fair, okay? After all, you were originally supposed to be his disciple; that's why he called you, wanting to see his beloved spousefu character — only to find out that you are not his disciple. Perhaps it was then that he realized that something was wrong — just as SHANG QINGHUA understood it, who later heard at a secret meeting that Shen Qingqiu, who woke up after a fever, asked about you for some reason, thinking that you were his disciple, and was amazed when he was confirmed several times that no, this is not so, you are a disciple of another peak.
A disciple of another peak? No, it's– no, it's possible, but unlikely. Since Luo Binghe is already studying at the peak, then at about this age he should already have had a connection with you, right? It's strange if the semblance of 'white moonlight' for the protagonist still did not exist at the peak, although your first meetings probably should have already happened. Isn't that about when that meeting should take place where you save him from mockery by appearing in time as a 'famous young phoenix under the guidance of Shen Qingqiu' and saying your cool speech?
Isn't that when you first demonstrate yourself as a domineering and self-aware beauty, but also able to be modest? Where your 'presence alone is enough for everyone to immediately disperse, let alone look or words'? Where were you still an unblemished white lotus that made Luo Binghe take an example from you, whose gait was 'as silent and graceful as leaves dancing in tandem with a wandering wind in a silent bamboo forest' and 'voice similar at the same time to the purring of a well-fed tiger inspecting their mountain in search of the next prey to playfully tear it apart' and 'like the first gentle snow showering everything around like a blanket, covering and forcing all living things to be silent and heed the serenity and greatness'?
These were some of his favorite scenes, excerpts from which he regularly reread and kept screenshots in the "favorite" in the phone gallery!
Where?!
"Someone remembers," SHANG QINGHUA thinks, rubbing his nose after sneezing — and smiles affectionately when you carefully throw a cape over him before returning to his business next to him, deliberately ignoring shifu's loving gaze. You really are a hardworking little thing, aren't you? Of course, what his child should be like; although not at all like your daddy, but you still take great care of him, even if you don't give him some expensive gifts and don't try to physically serve, unlike him. But he likes it — to take care of you, pamper you, try to accustom you to his culture and jokes, teach you some things that later become 'internal' and are not familiar to anyone else.
... Almost no one else is familiar with them.
“You yourself know they were supposed to be my disciple.”
“... The author has the right to make changes to the work.”
Shen Jiu– No, Cucumber Bro looks up at him because of the slight difference in height, and there is such obvious discontent and irritation in his eyes that SHANG QINGHUA is sure: if it were real, acid would dissolve him right now so that the earth would open up and swallow what would remain of his body.
“Don't you think that such an intervention will have consequences?”
What are the consequences? That you can't pamper them now and take advantage of their care like I do?
“Are you jealous that they call me 'baba' and not you?”
Shen Yuan still hits him with a fan from the heart, but does not answer anything — and SHANG QINGHUA does not dare to continue teasing or pressing button, even seeing how annoyed he is, not wanting to admit that yes, damn it, he is angry that his favorite character, the thought of which caused and causes euphoria, got not him, but SHANG QINGHUA.
“Stfu.”
You don't really call him ''baba' — but if you did, his heart would immediately stop and there would be a serious deviation of qi.
... Hmm...
He definitely found something with which he will pester you now — and the way Shen Qingqiu looks with jealous irritation, clutching a fan in his hand, only adds to the situation of fire.
Even if you don't have the slightest understanding of what's going on.
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nobody-for-sure · 2 years
Text
Language Barrier
Did I mention this fic is self-indulgent? Because it is. Also, not me hoping certain writers I respect accidentally stumble onto my work and enjoy it.
Chapter 4
(~2.3k words, see chapter list here)
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You feel like an idiot.
You probably look like one, too. In the past twenty four hours, you've jumped off a fifty-foot wall, literally asked a god to kill you, and been shuffled back to the Knights' headquarters by three familiar faces who were definitely not expecting you to blurt out, "Please don't bow to me, we should check what color my blood is first, just in case!"
...To be fair, they were probably more surprised about not being able to understand you rather than what you said, but still. An idiot. You can already tell this is going to be one of those things you lie awake cringing about years down the road.
Your sole saving grace is the fact that it was still early when the four of you arrived back in town. So as the three women ushered you through the winding streets and up the stairs, you noticed only two other citizens milling about, both of whom seemed too preoccupied with their own business to take much notice of your group.
Of course, your mind is running a mile a minute the whole time. How was I supposed to know this wasn't an imposter au??? Because it certainly doesn't appear to be, if the kneeling and relieved looks are anything to go by. You try to tell yourself that you couldn't have known, that it was better to be safe than sorry once you saw the statue and heard the whispers, but it's hard to convince yourself as you watch Jean slump down into her office chair the moment you return, rubbing her temples and looking like she hasn't slept in weeks.
Apparently, hearing your god went for a stroll through town before jumping from a high ledge and disappearing will do that to you.
Lisa pats her back sympathetically while murmuring something you can't make out. Meanwhile, Amber energetically inserts herself into your field of vision. "Tgi o zkm aue mtonzetg xaue kigxm? Kbgn aue ejgkxrg tkzgk? Jrauc aue kqor mtonzksuy uz qtoxj?"
You stare blankly. She smacks a hand to her forehead in obvious abashment. "Nmg, yvuunc, exxuy, o zumxul... sxk... rro zyap zkm aue g yygrm lu xkzgc." She sighs a little - mostly at herself, it seems - before smiling sheepishly and gesturing wordlessly toward the conference table on one side of the room. Hesitantly, you move to take a seat. She beams. "Egqu! Rro kh znmox qigh nzoc zgnz xkzgc-"
"Xkhsg," Jean cuts in, making both of you look in her direction. She gives you a slight nod before focusing in on Amber. "Rro kqgz kxgi lu zgnz. Ykxknz ksuy krvukv jo kqor aue uz xknzgm jgkzyto."
Amber salutes, and Jean rattles off what you assume are orders of some kind before the outrider gives her a firm nod. Turning to you, she sweeps a bow before offering you a cheerful wave and disappearing through the office door. Lisa gives Jean one last pat on the shoulder before heading out herself. (Whether she has her own directives or she's simply out to brunch, you're not sure.)
Meanwhile, the Acting Grand Master rummages around in her desk before pulling out an alarmingly thick stack of papers. Yikes. You certainly don't envy her workload. You watch as she selects a couple sheets from the top, places them on the center of her desk, and proceeds to bring the rest... over to you. They're blank, you realize, as she sets a feather pen next to the stack in front of you. Curiously, you look at her, but she just gives you a vague smile and gestures towards them before disappearing out the door as well. You listen to the click as the door closes behind her. For a moment, you do nothing but stare at the plain stack of papers in awe.
Did... did I just get Klee'd?
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Jean returns a short while later to find you scribbling furiously. You've already gone through four... five sheets of paper, though none of them are full. You give her the barest hint of a nod as she offers you a glass of water, before she returns to her desk and whips out a quill to do her own work.
You're writing down everything. People, mostly. Every playable character, future playable character, might-be-a-playable-character makes the list. You've got one for each nation that's been released so far, one for what you know of Sumeru, and one that covers both Snezhnaya and Khaenri'ah, labelled "People to avoid (just to be safe)". Good-looking or not, some of those people are definitely psycho; now that you're safe, you remind yourself that you're too young to die. Maybe after you've met all the other characters, finally seen Fontaine and Natlan, and learned how to do all that over-powered magic shit isekai protagonists usually do, then you can seek them out. But that's at the bottom of your list for now.
The top of your list being, obviously, figure out a way to communicate and find out what the fuck is going on.
You furrow your brow thinking about it. As things stand, it seems inevitable that you'll have to learn this strange language of theirs in order to get by, but... in all honesty, you're not sure you can. Not just because languages aren't your forte, but because you're literally not sure your vocal cords have the same capabilities theirs do. There are so many guttural sounds and long, vowel-less mishmashes that they often strike you as a keyboard smash vocalized. If it weren't for a few slight regularities you're starting to pick up on, you'd almost believe it was just that.
A light tap on the door makes both you and Jean look up. There's a soft click as it opens, and a giant stack of pancakes enters confidently.
Oh my god, that's Noelle.
Said maid-knight breezes over to the conference table, shifts the loaded platter easily to one hand as she offers you a delicate curtsy, then holds it out to you with a smile. Evidently, this ridiculous amount of food is all for you.
Come to think of it, I am pretty hungry, you realize. The apple you ate with Venti was surely hours ago now, if the amount of light breaching the windows is any indication. Hastily, you straighten up the papers and push them to the side. She sets the platter down and takes a step back, watching and waiting attentively as you spear a large bite and stick it in your mouth.
If the apple was good, the pancakes are heavenly. They're thick and fluffy, with just the right amount of sweetness, and they practically melt on your tongue as you dive back in for more. At this rate, maybe you really will eat them all. You did skip dinner yesterday, after all. (For no reason, in retrospect. Thanks, unnecessary paranoia.) Noelle beams when you give her a thumbs up and go for another bite, and in the background, you notice some of the tension ease from Jean's shoulders as well.
Then a hand reaches over the table and grabs your papers.
"Mmm!" you object, with a mouth full of food.
The culprit raises his hands in defense. "Es ykomuruvg, xaue kigxm, zah jo kqor uz kqgz g quur zg yonz, lo aue ztuj jtos," Kaeya says coolly, and you wonder when he even came in. It must have been right after Noelle, but you were too focused on the pancakes to notice. You eye him warily as he pores over the top sheet - Mondstadt - before sighing and shaking his head at Jean. "Kbo xkbkt tkky yonz zvoxiy kxulkh. Aue egs ztgc uz qyg xau erkbur tgoxgxhor, zah zo yquur kqor kbkc zum xau qxuc zai zau xul ya."
You assume that's the long way of saying "I can't read shit", because Jean sighs for the nth time as he returns the papers, not even bothering to flip through the rest of them. "Ykny mtoquur xul etg jtoq lu yjxuikx tu knz tuozgazoy znmox cut," she responds. "Zah kny ztykuj zikvdk uz jtol mtonzetg. Eh rrg yztauiig, yonz ztygc jkyuvvay uz tkvvgn."
At this, everyone in the room turns to look at you. You stiffen, and your gaze flits from face to face, trying to figure out what might have been said. After a moment, you offer them a shrug, not knowing what else to do. This seems to be an acceptable (if not expected) response, though, and Kaeya turns back to Jean. "Unc kyrk joj aue jtky xul?"
"Xul cut, zyap g krvaui yxknzu. Xkzlg egjxkzyke, o ztuj ztgc uz srkncxkbu sknz. O qtonz jzo kh zykh lo kc tgi kxamol zau erzigdk enc yonz yo mtotkvvgn lo kc tgi."
He nods, casting another glance your way before moving to sit down at the other end of the table. This seems to be the end of the conversation, because Jean lowers her head to refocus on her work, while Kaeya stares pensively into space, mindlessly running his thumb over the ridges of a coin in his hand. Only Noelle turns back to you and offers a reassuring smile.
She still has yet to say a word, and you realize that's her way of being considerate of your situation. Still, between her and Venti, you're starting to realize just how much you can communicate with only a look. You give her a small smile back, and gesture to the chair beside yours - she's been standing attentively the whole time, but she's going to be there a while if you're really going to eat all of these. She shakes her head and waves her hands as if to say she couldn't possibly, but when you gesture again, she relents and takes a seat. You give a satisfied nod and return to eating. For once, the silence is almost comfortable.
You're almost finished with the food when the next interruption comes.
Correction: you are finished, the food is not.
You push your plate back to Noelle, a slightly guilty look on your face, when there's a series of sharp taps on the door. You jump a little, but no one else does; in fact, Kaeya and Noelle have no reaction at all, while Jean only looks up long enough to say, "Kygkrv ksui to."
This time, it's Eula who enters, looking equal parts graceful and imposing as she strides over the threshold. She scans the room like a hawk, and when her eyes land on you, she takes several steps in your direction before dropping to one knee and placing a hand on her chest. "Zo yo g zgkxm xutun uz zkks aue, xaue kigxm. Nmaunzrg knz ztkxxai ykitgzysaixoi kxg zyus kzgtazxulta, kygkrv cutq zgnz o sg zg xaue kiobxky."
To your credit, you do not blurt out the same stupid thing as the last time someone kneeled to you. Instead, you give her a slight bob of your head, even though it's somewhat off-putting to see someone so prideful kneeling before you. On the other hand, you suppose it's actually quite in-character of her to be so formal, so you try not to be too bothered by it. "It's nice to meet you, Eula."
You think that might be the first normal thing you've said so far.
She gives you a searching look before dipping her head in acknowledgement and rising to face Jean. "Xul knz kqgy lu eitkoiollk, xkhsg jtg o zorvy knz zyor. Erkzgtazxulta, ujkhrg jtg kyuxiay zyas kh zau to knz jrkol kxkncksuy, kyagikh knz vsgi tu ktovytumgxj ygc ezvsk."
Jean nods, looking disappointed but not surprised. "Juuzyxkjta. Qtgnz aue xul mtoum rrg knz egc zau kxknz. Kygkrv kqgz g zgky, aue ejgkxrg cutq unc kxkc mtozogc xul, tknz."
Eula nods, dips her head to you again, and then takes a seat across from her fellow captain. Meanwhile, Noelle rises with equal grace and takes your plate, curtsying again before leaving without a sound.
This time, the ensuing silence is infinitely more awkward. You no longer have anything to occupy you, so you sit stiffly, listening to the tick of the clock on the wall. Eula seems to be doing the same, and Kaeya flips his coin idly. You're not quite sure what you're all waiting for, mind you, but you figure it's best to just go along with it at this point.
You consider working the lists some more, just to make sure you didn't miss anything, but you already know you didn't. Let's face it: anything worth remembering, you were way too invested in Genshin to forget easily. The mere existence of your little lists was just the result of sheer boredom, and not because you thought they'd actually do anything for you. Still, you're considering reading back over them, just to feel busy, when a sudden commotion erupts in the hallway.
Three voices blend together: one annoyed, one gruff, and one whiny. Evidently, the racket has caught the others' attention as well, because every single one of you is looking towards the door when it suddenly bursts open, revealing a straining outrider. "Tkbk lo xkzygs iaroj yvuxj knz ykmxgni, knz mtozig jtgxm xkzygs rrozy jkzykawkx xaue kitkykxv!" she exclaims, dragging... something you can't see from here... behind her. Hers is the annoyed voice.
The whiny one, possibly the 'thing' being dragged, responds. "Ng, ztgi kc zyap zxuy yonz zau xkzgr? O kbgn ykigrv uz kh, ymtuy uz mtoy!"
The last voice is drowned out by the scraping of chairs as both Jean and Eula rise to their feet. Amber gives one final tug, and she and a figure clad in green go tumbling onto the office floor.
Now you're on your feet as well. "Venti!?"
Rubbing the back of his head, the bard peels himself off the ground with a sheepish chuckle. "Urrkn, xaue kigxm."
You gape at him. Your brain is rapidly churning out questions: Why did you dump me at Windrise and leave? Why did Amber bring you here? How did she find you? ...Why was she dragging you?
All of those questions fly out the window, however, when Diluc enters behind him, looking past everyone else in the room to address Jean. "Sorry xul knz egrkj," he says calmly. "Yg you tgi kky, we zon tg jkzikvdkta vsah to knz jgux."
......whAT?!
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fishfingersalad · 7 months
Text
big post of all my random rvb au ideas and some hcs, decided this was more reasonable than making like 20 different posts.
Hc the freelancers who die are like submarines that go missing, officially still out on patrol. Florida is the only freelancer that is officially gone from the program. A rumor starts that the freelancers suits are in some way connected to the us states so people think that when florida (state) blew up, so did Agent Florida's armour killing him in the process
 (I'm an ace Tucker believer) Y'know how Tucker gets charged child support for a bunch of kids post chorus? I don't think he has any kids outside of Junior. I think a bunch of people who got pregnant post temple of procreation were like shit idk the kids other parent. Uhhhh. Let's just say it was the rich famous planetary hero guy who claims to have slept with everyone. He probably doesn't even remember the people he's slept with. And then Tucker, asexual who has had sex one (1) time and realised he didnt like it very much, is stuck between revealing to the whole goddamn planet that he doesnt actually fuck, and paying a billion dollars of child support.
In an everyone lives no one dies type au I think Donut gets Maine, Locus, South, and Wash to come to his wine and cheese hour and he does their makeup and their nails.
Au where Sigma is just so fucking invested in getting Maine and Wash to date that he doesnt do anything evil. "Agent Maine, I think you will find this course I have signed you up for quite informative" Sigma this is a couples wine and pottery class "Oh look, is that Agent Washington over there? you should go say hi."
Au where Wash and Epsilon bond. It still fucks Wash up and shit, cause yknow. Epsilon issues. But Wash goes like "I am going to fucking kill the director he fucked you ai over so much" And Epsilon is so taken aback bc of Alphas view of Wash from an outside, heavily filtered perspective made him seem happy go lucky, innocent, and a bit naive.
Au where the freelancers find out that the director is Linas dad and behind her back they're all like "hey is she okay? why does he talk to her like that?" but then whenever she's around they just accuse her of nepotism. Gamma and Sigma team up to hack the leaderboard and change her name to nepotism baby.
I love South. I wish she existed more. I wish her and North and Theta could have gotten along. I wish Theta could suit jump like Omega and Alpha. I wish Theta could spend time with South. Like yeah South wouldn't like having to share an ai with her brother but like. He's their littlest brother.
Junior and Theta could autism bond. I think they'd both like comics. Also Junior teaches Theta basketball and Theta teaches Junior to skate. Skateboard kid plus scooter kid. I think Palomo would like to skateboard too. Wash and Palomo both helped teach Theta to skateboard. Wash bc he's friends w North, Palomo bc he's at the skatepark frequently. Jensen roller skates, she's... okay at it. not good. but okay. She broke her tailbone trying to impress Palomo. Andersmith would work at a youth center that the teens hang out at. Matthews works at a movie theatre, Bitters watches a movie there every week, maybe just to see Matthews.
Sarge werebear. Simmons vampire. Grif faun. Donut Light Elemental. Lopez is a ghost that got stuck in a shitty robot Sarge built. Church and the ai are ghosts, Tex is a vampire, Caboose is a werewolf (big doggy :3). Siren Tucker. Deep sea mermaid Junior (glowing octopus type stuff). Faun Kai (same as Grif). Carolina’s a Phoenix. Wash some kind of big cat thing. Florida Shapeshifter (he prefers being reptiles). The twins are demons. 479er is a harpy. York poltergeist (throws stuff at people). Wyoming's some kind of “answer my riddles three” type of imp. Ct is also a shapeshifter. Maine’s just a regular guy with a lot of weird friends. Felix and Locus are a fire elemental and a dryad respectively. Siris is a water elemental. In my au Donut’s a light elemental which makes it so fucking funny if Church pops up and says "boo" Donut just fucking decks him. and through Church being a ghost (a form of light) and Donut being a light elemental, Donut’s fist connects. South is the demon people are more likely to fear, but North is the one you really need to look out for. When South loses her temper people get frightened, when North loses his temper people die. If there's like. a group of kids exploring or something North’ll hold South back from doing anything more than scaring them. If there's a priest attempting an exorcism or someone with a cross threatening South, their organs will be found separately from their bodies. 
It's kinda funny when people make Church and Lina siblings and then Tex is just some random girl that Church likes. Like I fully understand why and the only other alternative i can think of is like. Church is the director's younger brother who was raised alongside his daughter after their parents died. and Tex is Allison's younger sister. Only way I could put together Church kinda being the director and Tex kinda being Allison but also Church and Lina being siblings without there being any relation between Tex and Church.
Florida and Ct have a coworker friends relationship i think. When they first met I think Florida said something vague and threatening to her so she pulled a knife on him. They've been sort of friends ever since.
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callsign-bunnie · 4 months
Note
Can i get some uhhhhhh RudyGhost? With Ghost getting jealous for the first time in ages? In a sexy way
I haven't written for them in AGES
--
Rodolfo couldn't remember the last time he'd had enough free time to go to a bar, let alone the last time he'd gotten drunk.
However, Ghost and he were... figuring out what exactly was between them and though neither had pointed anywhere in the area of exclusive, there definitely was something, so they'd both agreed to try a date.
It was... very obvious, very quickly, that neither of them were very experienced in that area. Ghost revealed that he didn't have much because pre-Roba, as Ghost put it, he was too anxious to really do much more than sleep around and then post Roba... Rodolfo could put the pieces together as to why he'd never dated.
Rodolfo, himself, never had fucking time. Alejandro kept him so busy with Los Vaqueros that going out on dates was nearly impossible and then... well, he'd never been that interested in them, if he was being honest.
Ghost had yet to show up, though.
Rodolfo had started out slow with the drinks. Alvarez had agreed to be his ride home, so he didn't have to worry about driving, but after about the first hour of waiting and texting and getting so response... he'd picked up the pace a bit.
He'd started with just two in the first hour, but he'd long lost count now that they were nearing the three hours late mark. God, this was embarrassing... Alejandro had expressed a worry that Ghost wasn't there for anything serious, despite him and Ghost being friends. Rodolfo had chalked it up to Alejandro just being overprotective, but now he was starting to believe it.
This was fucking embarrassing, too. He could handle being stood up, but the first semi date he'd ever been on and being stood up? This was mortifying.
Especially being stood up by Ghost... Everyone else had considered him to be this dark and closed off person, but Rodolfo had genuinely seen more. He'd genuinely wanted there to be more but... had he been wrong? Had Ghost really just been stringing them along?
They'd already hooked up a few times, despite not dating, and now Rodolfo was worried that that's all he'd been to Ghost, a just a cheap hookup, which stung. He wasn't easy, by any means. He didn't sleep around, he'd never slept around before Ghost. Just... something about him was very exciting to Rodolfo and so he'd leaned out of his comfort zone and one thing led to another...
The sex was very good, too, which just made this all so much more embarrassing.
He groaned and held his head, trying to count off just how much he'd had to drink and getting out his phone to text Alvarez to just come get him and take him to the ranch so he could lick his wounds a bit before having to face Ghost, again. God, he was probably laughing with Soap about how gullible Rodolfo was, and now Rodolfo was right back at Prom, trying to hold Alejandro back from beating the shit out of the dude who decided to target the only obviously gay kid in the school.
"Hey, while you're on that, want to put my number in?"
Rodolfo lifted his head, blinking and trying to clear the alcohol haze enough to look at the person to his left. Their words hit him and he realized they were very much flirting with him, which had his face bright red before his brain even knew to be flustered. "Oh uh... sorry, I'm waiting for someone." He mumbled, awkward even then when dealing with any sort of romantic attention.
They raised an eyebrow, looking around. "Doesn't look like they're showing up. You've been here for a while."
Rodolfo's face went more red, this time with embarrassment, and he shook his head, turning back to the bar. "I should go home."
"Wait, wait, I'm sorry." They quickly said and Rodolfo frowned as his arm was gently grabbed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean. You're just... really attractive and I guess I'm desperate to get lucky tonight."
Rodolfo did soften at the apology, it working a little too well on his very drunk self. Even still, it worked, because he did consider staying a bit longer. "Alright... I forgive you."
They relaxed and grinned before very suddenly their expression was dropping and they were taking several steps back right when Rodolfo's drunk brain took note of a presence at his back. He frowned and turned a little, being met with Ghost, who was very imposing in the dim light of the bar. "Get lost." Was all Ghost said, his voice hardly more than a cold snarl, and the other was quick to rush off with several mumbled apologies.
Rodolfo would admit that that display may have gotten him hot in a few places, but he was not going to just forget that he was mad at Ghost for being so late! Or... well, he wasn't going to forget until Ghost had him up against the bar, his hand on Rodolfo's shoulder, a thumb on his neck. Rodolfo swallowed, watching Ghost's eyes watch his throat. Fuck... "You're late..." Was all he could manage and it did not sound nearly as irritated as he felt about ten seconds before the action.
"You moved on fairly quick."
"I did not!" The irritation was back and Rodolfo huffed. "I wasn't even entertaining anything, I was just...." What was he doing?? Fuck, he couldn't remember, instead he just moved closer to Ghost. "I thought you'd stood me up..."
Finally, Ghost softened and he sighed, his eyes flicking to the other person, who was now all the way across the bar and occasionally glancing at them. "I was just... anxious. But I'm here now and I'm sticking close to you."
"Why?" Rodolfo asked, taking the back of Ghost's hand and pressing it to his face. Ghost's hands were always cold, and Rodolfo's face was very hot as of that moment,.
Ghost looked almost amused before his expression was turning to irritation, again. "I don't know. I don't like this feeling."
"What feeling?" Rodolfo had a bit of an idea, his stomach fluttering already, and the fluttering only intensified when Ghost leaned down to speak low in his ear. He became intensely aware of his own breathing, and just how hard it became at the action.
Ghost breathed out, though the sound was closer to a ragged growl, and his hot breath hit Rodolfo's neck in a very very arousing fashion. "I have to keep people away from what's mine, don't I?"
Oh, oh... Rodolfo shivered and then decided the best course of action was to bury his face in Ghost's chest and melt. "I think people would be more likely to stay away from what's yours if you came back to the ranch with me... Alejandro already gave me the keys, just in case for tonight."
"I think you're right, Rudy."
Oh god, what Ghost did to him... This feeling of someone being jealous over him was... so new. He was going to have to find ways to make it happen, again.
--
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cheeriecherrymain · 11 months
Note
Lipstick ask part 2??? plsthank
Steamy stuff and resolution in next chapter probably! For now, Viktor being paralyzed by his own anxiety and inability to remember doing things while drunk.
[Part 1 Here]
---
Viktor x fem!Reader
-The following day, when Viktor heads into the lab, he expects you to be there as usual, working on whatever task has been delegated to you by Jayce or himself. He expects your usual chipper greeting, along with a sweet smile and a tale of something or other that had happened to you over the weekend.
-He expects you to completely forget about your night together - or regret it entirely. Either way, he expects you to brush over it like it was nothing, if only for the sake of maintaining your professional relationship.
-He knows that you wouldn’t have slept with him had you not both been severely inebriated. You’re kind, you’re smart, and you’re beautiful - and he’s a workaholic scientist with fewer friends than he has fingers, and a body that’s failing him far too young. Why would you have wanted him, had your mind not been so addled?
-But the moment he walks into the room, he feels.
-Discomfort and awkwardness permeate the very air within the lab, making it thick and grating, the loudest silence he’s ever heard.
-Jayce is working quietly at his own desk, taking measurements and writing them down with a focus only rivaled by his own. And you? You seem to be the source of the sour mood, though he doubts you intend to be. You’re trying to work, from the looks of it - but the tension in your posture is undeniable.
-You’re absolutely furious.
-He clears his throat as he steps past the doorway, letting it fall shut behind him with a soft click. Bids you and Jayce a good morning, and makes his way over to his own workspace. Just barely missing the way his partner casts a worried glance in his direction.
-And then…nothing.
-The three of you sit and work for a couple of hours, none of you making so much as a peep. Even when something breaks, or a finger gets pinched, or an equation garners the wrong answer - no one says a word.
-It’s…terrible, really.
-And the longer it persists, the more Viktor can feel it weighing him down. Drowning him in intensity, stirring up his thoughts in ways he can’t control. Maybe he should have stayed, yesterday, he thinks, staring down at the paper in front of him. Maybe you would be less angry if he’d tried to explain himself. Maybe you would look less like you wanted to bite his head off.
-Or maybe this was inevitable, regardless of whether he’d stayed or not.
-He understands, really. It doesn’t make him less sullen, but…he understands. It can’t have been too grand of an affair for you, either: waking up sore, to an empty bed, with nothing but the unfortunate memories of his hands on you. How you must feel around him now - embarrassed, most certainly. Angry that you’d let him touch you, maybe?
- “Jayce, would you mind picking up lunch today? I didn’t sleep well this weekend,” you ask suddenly, your voice slicing through the thickness of the atmosphere.
-Viktor expects his partner to put up some kind of fuss about ‘leaving in the middle of a project’, but he’s not entirely surprised when no such resistance comes. He nearly jumps out of his seat, in fact, and makes a beeline for the door without so much as a word.
-And then, he realizes, that it’s just the two of you.
-And he can feel your gaze on his back. 
-Hot and intense, as if waiting for him to make any sort of move to turn around, to acknowledge you and unleash all your quiet fury.
-He remains steadfast, keeping his eyes locked on his work.
- “So you’re really not going to say anything?” you wonder, your tone sharp with disbelief. If he were to look over now, he’d find you staring at him, arms crossed over your chest.
- “What exactly would I talk about?” he replies, reaching for a screwdriver. “My weekend was uneventful, and you have not mentioned-”
- “Cut the crap, Viktor,” you interrupt, nearly throwing yourself to your feet to storm over to him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about!”
- “If you are referring to the fact that we slept together,” he sighs, finally turning towards you, “Then there is still nothing to talk about. It was a mistake - nothing more. I don’t fault you for that.”
-All at once, the indignation and frustration in your expression dissipates. Falls completely from your features, only to be replaced with the most sincere and gut-wrenching hurt he’s ever seen.
- “A mistake?” you utter, jaw slack as your eyes well with tears. “You- but you said- I told you how I felt, and you said-!”
-He freezes the moment the words leave your mouth.
- “I told you about how I’ve been stupidly in love with you since day one! And you said that you felt the same!” Your voice cracks, raw with emotion, as one tear falls down your cheek, followed quickly by another. “You said you loved me, and then you left! You gave me the best night of my life, and now you’re saying it was a mistake?!”
-He doesn’t know how to respond.
-He…he doesn’t remember. 
-You’d been drunk - both of you had been drunk. You’d fallen into bed together. You’d made a mistake. 
-His heart rate picks up, as his anxiety begins to set in. Had the two of you really had such an in-depth conversation? Had you really spoken to him about some sort of hidden feelings you’d harbored for him? And for years, no less?
-He doesn’t know how to respond.
- “Forget it,” you hiss, stomping back over to your desk, hastily throwing things into your shoulder bag. “I’m working from home this week. I can’t believe I- I fell for it! Some stupid attempt to shack up with the assistant!”
-His gaze meets yours as you glide past him on the way to the exit, the words still stuck in his throat, unable to be choked out past the tightness in his chest. You’re leaving, he realizes, panic bubbling up within him. You’re leaving, and you love him, and Janna, why can’t he just say something?
- “Wait-” he gasps, but you’re already tugging the door open.
- “You’re an ass, Viktor,” you sob, giving him one last, depressed, pained glance. “Why did I believe you when you said you loved me?”
-The question is entirely directed at yourself, uttered quietly while you turn away and disappear into the hall, but he hears it. Full of despair and anger and scorn and…and to see your face, molded into an expression of such uncontainable hurt…
-Why can’t he remember?!
-This is his fault.
-You loved him.
-You loved him, and…now he’d irreversibly destroyed any chance he had with you.
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sociallyawkwardseal · 6 months
Text
Prompt: Fictober: "If you don't stop now--"
Fandom: School Bus Graveyard
Summary: None of the kids can sleep. Based partially off of this image.
Content Warnings: None that I can think of!
Words: 963
“Morning,” Ashlyn said as she shuffled across the kitchen floor, taking a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter. “You guys are up late…”
“We couldn’t sleep,” Logan said, offering a sleepy half-smile as he whisked the bowl. “You couldn’t, either, could you…?”
“Nope.”
“Pretty sure Ty’s awake, too.” Taylor added, stretching her arms above her head. “Our music wasn’t keeping you awake, was it? We tried to keep it pretty quiet, I know you don’t usually sleep with your earplugs in since it’s pretty uncomfy.”
“You’re fine. You guys already have coffee made?” Ashlyn drew a hand closer to her ear, shifting one of the plugs as she watched the coffee pot spit steam out and gurgle.
“Aiden texted and asked us to make some. Guess he knew you were awake? Ty and I don’t really drink it all that much, and Ben didn’t want any, so.”
“Right…” Ashlyn glanced back over her shoulder as Ben tapped the bottom of an empty mug against it—she gingerly took its handle in her fingers and nodded, offering a quiet ‘thanks’ as he turned to go back to the stove. She reached out, taking the coffee pot from its perch and poured herself a cup. “Where is he right now?”
“He went to wash his face off, he should be back in a second. He was still pretty tired, but he said he couldn’t sleep, too.” Logan said. “Do you want pancakes, by the way…?”
“I’m good, but thanks. I don’t really have the biggest appetite right now.”
Taylor reached over to grab her phone from the other side of the counter and opened it—it took her a second, but she quickly lowered the volume of the music playing to the point where it was probably just barely audible to herself and Logan, but still pretty clear to Ashlyn. “‘kay, it is pretty early. Or. Late, I guess, if none of us slept.”
“Yeah…”
“I didn’t expect everyone to be awake.” Tyler, closing the door quietly behind him, grumbled as he stepped into the kitchen. “Aiden, too, I’m guessing?”
“Wouldn’t be everyone without him.” Ashlyn said, glancing back at him. “Are we just trying for an all-nighter again?”
“That’s gonna feel like shit.”
“Sure is, but it’s… What, five in the morning? Your alarms go off in an hour. Mine go off in two.”
“It’s actually about five-twenty.” Aiden beamed, slipping in through the door. “Did you just lay in bed for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do?”
“Kind of. I heard Logan, Taylor, and the music and debated coming in here for a few minutes.”
“Sounds like it was more like twenty minutes.” Tyler quipped lightly, sitting next to her.
“Sounds like you need to cut it out.”
“Can someone hand me the box of mix?” Logan interrupted, glancing behind his shoulder—Aiden was the only one still on his feet and not at the stove. “Or, well. More like just a cup of it. I’m going to make more than just one batch of pancakes since we’re all awake, even if you don’t want some now, it’ll still be good later…”
“Mm?” Aiden leaned down and opened the cabinet, pulling the box out. “Oh, shit, it’s feeling a little light. You sure we’ve got enough for the day?”
“Yeah, there’s a full box towards the back—oh, there should be a measuring cup in there. It’s 1/3rd, so just… Four of those, please.”
Aiden nodded and slid up next to him, dumping three of the cups into the fresh bowl that he had pulled over. “Y’know, you could’ve just added it to the batter you already made, yeah?”
“Ahhh, they might cook wrong if I do that…” Logan half-laughed, waving his hand for a moment. He put the bowl of already-mixed batter a little bit behind Taylor. “I wouldn’t want to risk it… Oh, you can take the measuring cup out of there. I shouldn’t need it anymore, I just forgot to get it out earlier. Taylor? Don’t lean back, your hair will get caught in it…”
“Cool, got it.” Aiden pulled the scoop out, ignoring the small bit of mix still caught inside of it, closed the lid of the box, and put it next to Logan. His eyes drifted from the contents of the scoop towards Tyler briefly, only to return to the scoop once he had nudged the bag back into the cabinet. “Hey, Tyler.”
“Yeah?” He glanced up, looking past Ashlyn—when he saw Aiden’s hands, lightly dusted with mix, one still holding the scoop, he narrowed his eyes. “Oh, hell no. What are you doing with that?”
“Nothin’, just got some extra mix here. Can’t really put it in the sink.”
“Yeah?” Tyler stood, moving towards the door. “Can’t really put it on me, either.”
“Or what?” Aiden teased, pulling a small amount out of the cup and flicking it at him.
“Hey! If you don’t stop now—”
Without letting him finish, Aiden thrust a small cloud of powder hidden inside of his palm towards Tyler, laughing lightheartedly as it coated the side of his face and shoulder.
“Oh, now you’ve done it.” Tyler hissed, wiping flour away from his eye; he moved closer to Aiden, hooking his arm under his as he pulled him closer. “Come here! Give it here!”
Aiden, laughing, pressed one of his pancake mix-covered hands against the clean side of Tyler’s face. “Nope, nope, not getting it!”
In their struggle, flour had managed to coat both of their hands, ending up on various parts of their arms, faces, and clothes.
“Guys, come on…” Taylor laughed, watching them wrestle against each other. “All of the mix is probably gone now. And all over you.”
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