#and he's done chores on other people's farms

[bombusbombus]

Bruce definitely knows how to cook, but he's one of those guys who goes to the grocery store to get ingredients for a meal. For every meal. His fridge is normally completely empty except for protein shake ingredients.

Clark grew up with a rural family, he's definitely used to scrounging around in the cupboards and throwing together ingredients into something cohesive. My guy can take half an onion, an alien mushroom he found, some ancient lentils, and a container of leftover soup, and make a full hearty meal.

#I'd like to think he lets people give him foods sometimes #he saves someone from a flood and they insist on giving him half a pound of produce #and he's done chores on other people's farms #you never get away from that sort of thing without some fresh eggs or baked goods or something #so he's used to receiving food as gratitude! #he'd never accept money but he will accept an entire traditionally-smoked salmon because his mom raised him that way #His friends love coming over just to inspect the contents of his fridge and see what he can make with it all #dc #superbat #superman #batman #my mom had some food insecurity growing up and learning to cook from her gave me a magic touch with leftovers

[llamagoddessofficial]

Have you ever done an au where the boys are farmers? :]

I did once before, but hey. Nothing wrong with more farm. And as a certified country bumpkin who has lived/worked on many a farm in her life, I feel I'm uniquely qualified for this au ;)

It makes sense that all three boys would work on the same self-sustaning farm. 'Cousins' taking care of the same land, and everything. Maybe Mc is the cute girl who lives nearby and finds herself taking up odd jobs for them every now and then, for some spare cash...?

Sans: ... Mc bumps into him a lot, whether she's helping out on the farm or just passing by their fields on her way to somewhere else. He's always friendly, always greets her- always smiling up at her from under his goofy straw hat and telling terrible farm-related jokes so he can grin at her laughter. She can usually spot him napping in a field somewhere; when she asks what he's doing he always says he's 'working'.

To be fair to him, what he's 'working' on is always complete to perfection. All the hay around him has been baled despite no machines in sight, all the vegetables have been pulled and packed into their boxes, all the dirt has been tilled in perfect straight lines. She's got no clue how he does it.

If she's ever working with him (say, they're packing fruit together) he's always trying to encourage her to flunk it and nap with him. He knows all the best resting spots in a mile radius... and when she does crack and nap with him, it's the best rest she's had in a long time.

Red: He's a fieldhand who doubles as a pretty decent handyman. It's not unusual to catch him moving around in oil-stained dungarees with a toolbox tucked under one arm and a cigarette between his teeth, repairing any machinery that needs a loving touch. Other farms occasionally hire him out to repair whatever busted old thing they're not ready to let go of yet, and he's picked up a reputation for being able to repair anything.

... That's not the only thing he's picked up a reputation for, though. Red's got a good relationship with most of the other farms... mostly because he's banged a decent percentage of all the nearby fieldhands. He's famously good with his hands, after all.

Mc likes him, he's charming and somehow manages to smell good despite always being covered in motor oil. He likes to show off to her by helping her with her chores and lifting heavy shit with his big arms... she's flattered by his obvious interest in her. But she's also aware of his reputation, and isn't super keen to get cuddly just yet.

Skull: He mostly handles animals. He's got that quiet, strong demeanour that they like. He doesn't talk to people, or go out much, he's a bit of an urban legend in the area. He's much more comfortable around animals than people; animals don't judge him for how he looks, or expect him to talk, or care that he smells like hide all the time.

Mega crush on Mc from the first moment he sees her, which only exacerbates his usual anxieties around people and makes him super shy. Even though she makes him nervous, he really likes when she drops by the barns to help him with the animals. She's the only one who regularly visits. Silently feeding the chickens while he listens to her talk is one of his favourite activities in the whole world.

While Red's showing off is intentional, Skull tends to show off completely accidentally. He often lifts up stupidly heavy things without thinking; effortlessly slinging several bags of feed onto his shoulders, despite each bag individually being so heavy she couldn't even push one across the floor. He doesn't understand why her face flushes so much when he lifts big bales. Maybe she's been out in the sun too long?

#llamagines #farm au #skull's ideal date would be him sitting silently while u tell him which animals you like

[amsgrey]

request for a kaz brekker x reader one bed trope! literally some of my favorite fics to read ever!!! def with some angst maybe reader gets injured on the heist and kaz has to help. reader insists that they should sleep in the same bed and they end up confessing feelings or something. SO GOOD

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long but hey, it's alright.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, typical canon violence, kind of OOC!Kaz, semi-bad writing.

“Hey,” Nina didn’t bother knocking as she stepped into your room, “There’s someone here to see you.” 

You looked up from your small desk, “Who?” 

Nina shrugged, “Wouldn’t say, but she won't leave until she speaks with you.” 

You frowned, getting to your feet and following after Nina. A million possibilities ran through your mind as you descended the stairs, you didn’t know many people from Ketterdam, or you didn’t know anyone that Kaz also didn’t know. WHo had come to speak to you was a complete mystery to you and judging by the way the Crows were gathered at the bottom of the stairs, it was a mystery to them too. 

“Who is she?” Jesper broke the heavy silence first.

You rolled your eyes, “How am i supposed to know, Jes?” 

Walking past him and the others you looked for the woman. There were a few dregs hanging around in the slat, like always. Hiding from the damp Ketterdam air or filling in their afternoons with ale and gambling. It meant the woman stuck out like a sore thumb. When you finally saw her, your blood ran cold. 

“Oh, my,” The woman stepped forward, she grabbed your hands and smiled at you, “Look how grown up you are, my dear.” 

She pulled you into a hug, an awkward show of affection that she had never done before. 

“Mother.” 

She hadn’t changed in the 7 or so years since you saw her last, a few graying hairs and wrinkles around her eyes were the only evidence time had passed. She still wore the same turquoise dress, the fabric stained and dirty where it spent too many years dragging on the dirt. She had tied a knitted shawl around her shoulders, to stave off the cold of the barrel and to make herself look more presentable. When you were a child on the farm with your parents, your mother would refuse to do any of the hard labor or household duties, always dressed in her ‘fine’ clothes and sitting by a window like the queen of Ravka. 

You hated her for it then, the way she forced you to conduct her duties. The hard labor with your father on the farm, the chores inside the home, raising your three younger siblings. Looking at the woman before you now, you hated her just as much. 

“What do you want, mother?” You forced out through gritted teeth. 

The woman batted your hand she still held, a sharp smack to chide you for your tone, “Is that how you speak to the woman who raised you?” 

She didn’t raise you though. Your father was the one who taught you everything you knew, cared and loved you. The marriage of your parents had been of convenience, a rich farmer up the road had fallen on hard times so he married off his only daughter to your father. Something neither of them wanted. 

When your father had died suddenly in a farming accident, your mother had sold you to slavers, without a second thought. You had spent years in Ketterdam trying to bury the memories of your younger brothers screaming for you to stay, the chains that chaffed and burnt your skin and the cruel men who didn’t care about anything but making coins. 

Standing with your mother before you, her soft hands gripping you so tightly, you felt like a young girl all over again. Begging for affection from a woman who hated your existence, cursed to always be nothing to her. You could still remember the beatings and the screaming, the bruises that you tried to hide and the permanent split in your lip which took years to properly heal. 

Kaz was watching the whole encounter, quiet and calculating like he always was. The other crows were growing concerned, there was an air of uncertainty that settled over them all. 

“What can we help you with?” Kaz finally spoke, he stepped closer to you, towering over your mother. Having him at your side brought you ease, a feeling of calm that always came over you when he was near. Kaz was prepared for anything, he always looked out for you and the crows. 

“And you are?” Your mother snapped, glaring at Kaz. 

Kaz didn’t seem bothered, “Are you here for something? Or to terrorize your daughter?” 

You glanced back at Kaz, he had a look of pure rage in his eyes. You hadn’t told Kaz the details of your past, but he knew your mother sold you to slavers. You realized suddenly you didn’t want to be in the middle of Kaz and your mother fighting. 

You grabbed your mothers arm, dragging her away from the gathered Crows and Kaz’s glower and pulling her outside. In the Ketterdam air things were immediately colder, you hadn’t grabbed your coat so you could feel it even more. 

“What are you doing here?” You demanded. 

“Can I not come see my daughter?” 

“You never cared before, I didn’t even know you knew this is where I lived. You sold me to slavers,” You cried, stepping away as you started to get upset. “What in Sankta Alina could you want?” 

“I am married,” Your mother boasted, “He lives in the Zelver district, we want you to come have dinner.” 

You were reeling, so much information was thrown at you all at once. You gapped to answer. 

“Your brothers will be there too,” Your mother waved her hand like she was dismissing your concerns, “They stayed on the farm.”

“Why- why do you want me there?” 

“To make amends, my love,” She took your hands again, “It is time we act like a family again. Perhaps you could bring that guard dog of yours, act civilized.” 

You wanted to say yes, straight away you wanted to say yes and trust that she had true intentions. But there was something nagging in your mind. 

“Who is it that you're married to, mother?”

“A Merchant, trades with the Ravkan crown, Alexei Berezin.” 

You recognized the name immediately, he had one of the largest mansions in the Zelver district, rivaled only by foreign dignitaries. He had brought in a large shipment of Ravkan gold and silk, Kaz had stolen half of it almost immediately, because Berezin had thought himself untouchable. 

“When's dinner?” You forced out, trying not to let your knowledge of the man show. 

“Tomorrow, be there by seven.” 

She wandered away, slipping into the crowd of foot traffic and joining the mess of colours. 

-- 

“Alexei Berezin.”

You forced a smile, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

The man looked over you and Kaz like you were nothing, he grunted in greeting and disappeared towards the drinks cart. 

You looked at Kaz, “Too late to leave?” 

Kaz smiled, it made him look softer somehow, “We don’t have to stay long, let's hope Inej and Wylan are quick.” 

A servant greeted you as you walked further into the drawing room, she offered you and Kaz wine in crystal glasses. You had played being rich at banquets and galas before, it was easy to hide in a crowd of rich people to steal from them, but here holding the crystal glass made you feel so exposed. The only thing that was stopping you from running out the door was Kaz by your side. He always looked out for you, tonight would be no different. 

Your mother had lied, your brothers were not at the dinner. She had spun some more lies about how they hadn't been able to make the journey but you wondered if they were even invited in the first place. You, Kaz, your mother and her new husband all sat at the ridiculously long table, eating silently except for a few forced comments. 

“So,” Berezin belched, downing his fourth glass of brandy, “Mr Brekker, how is business?”

Kaz looked at you from across the table, “As good as yours, Berezin.” 

Berezin snared, “So then you admit to taking my shipment?” 

“A shipment?” Kaz leant back, starting to enjoy the game. 

Berezin started getting red in the face, rage barely contained in his eyes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Dirty Hands.” 

A smile ghosted across Kaz’s face, “Is this why you extended the invite, Berezin? Hoping to get your silks back?” 

You jumped when Berezin slammed his fist on the table, he stood abruptly, his chair falling backwards loudly, “You listen to me here boy! You will pay me back what I am owed or I will make your life a living hell!” 

“A living hell?” 

“You have no idea who you are messing with, you and your little whore will pay-” 

Kaz was on his feet faster than you had time to process, “Watch your mouth, Berezin, or silks won't be the only thing you lose.” 

Berezin started shouting in rage, his words mostly coming out as jumbled insults and threats which didn’t mean anything for you and Kaz. 

“We’re leaving,” You said to your mother, not bothering to bid her a proper goodbye as you joined Kaz’s side and retrieved your coats. 

You were both halfway through the foyer when things took a turn. 

Somewhere in the garden outside a fire roared to life, a green chemical fire that was Wylan's emergency beacon. Kaz urged you to walk faster, his cane striking loudly against the marble floor as you both tried to leave before Berezin caught on. 

“Thief!” 

Kaz grabbed your hand, and both of you ran the rest of the way out of the house and down the garden path. Berezin was screaming from inside the house, shouting orders to his few guards and screaming for someone to alert the Stadwatch. You and Kaz didn’t stop running until you reached the canal, skittering to a stop and dropping into the waiting boat. Matthias and Wylan were already there, Wylan was heaving like he had just finished a mad dash too. 

“Did you get it?” Kaz demanded as Matthias started to row the boat towards 4th Harbor. 

Wylan was nodding, “Handed it off to Inej, she and Jesper are heading to the warehouse now.”

You had to give it to Kaz, when he had explained the plan this morning after all-night scheming, you didn’t think you would be able to pull it off. But yet again, he proved he knew everyone's skills. 

The plan was somewhat simple, you and Kaz would entertain Berezin while Wylan posed as a servant and slipped into Berezin's office. Wylan would swipe the key to Berezins safe which sat in his warehouse; it was old and Ravkan, protected by small science. You didn’t have enough time on the first job to try and crack it, so now was the perfect time. The original plan was for you and Kaz to stay all through dinner and whatever other pleasantries were to be had, while Wylan snuck through undetected. His Green fire beacon was a sign he had been caught, so you and Kaz hightailed out before things got too nasty. 

 Inej and Jesper were on their way to the safe now, while you, Kaz, Matthias and Wylan drew attention in the opposite direction. Headed towards 4th Harbor meant the four of you could lead the following guards and Stadwatch into the twisting streets and narrow wharves and hopefully escape into the crowd. 

As Matthias moored the boat to the side of the canal, you and Wylan climbed out and surveyed where you were. 

“Are you alright?” You asked him, still aware of how his hands shook. 

Wylan nodded, but you were unconvinced. 

Matthias and Kaz climbed out of the boat after you, the four of you standing at the canal edge for a moment while you tried to compose yourselves. 

“Hey! Stop right there!” 

“Bastards,” Kaz swore, already ushering the three of you to run before they started to shoot. 

“Kaz, they're after us, not Wylan and Matthias…” You shouted as you ran down the street alongside the canal, headed towards the Council of the Tides Watchtower. 

Kaz ordered everyone to stop, “Y/N’s right, Wylan, Matthias, head back towards the slat, take the long way and check for tails, we’ll go the opposite way.” 

Matthias started to argue, “No, we should-” 

You all ducked as gunfire echoed through the streets. Bullets ricochet off the cobbles at your feet, dangerously close to hitting one of you. 

“Go!” Kaz yelled over the noise, blindly reaching for your hand and pulling you along with him as you headed away from Matthias and Wylan and towards the government district. 

You were right, the three or four guards from Berezin's estate followed you, not your friends as you rushed through the dark streets. At this time of the night, the Crow Club and the surrounding area would be buzzing with life, but in this part of town, everyone was shut inside asleep. There weren’t many lights, aside from a few lanterns left on in people's doorways, so as you and Kaz ran you stuck to shadows and unlit alleyways, hoping to lose your stalkers in the maze of buildings. 

Kaz pulled you to a stop after running for ten minutes and started to take a toll on him and his leg. The two of you ducked into an alley, Kaz leaned heavily against the wall and his cane, heaving as he regained his breath. You glanced over him, worried that he wouldn’t be able to continue for much longer. 

“Maybe we lost them,” You whispered, peaking around the corner to the main street, which was completely deserted aside from a rogue tabby. 

Kaz nodded, unable to speak a reply. You kept glancing from the main street to the end of the alley, which appeared as if it curved around and kept going. You had no idea if it was a dead end or not, but staying here was making you anxious, it was still too exposed. 

“I Have a safe house not far from here,” Kaz said, pushing off from the wall and leaning on his cane. 

“A safe house?” You replied, “In the government district?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “You underestimate me.” 

If he hadn’t been hurt you would have pushed him away, chuckling at his comment. Instead, you opted for offering him your arm so you could walk out of the alley together, hopefully, Stadwatch who patrolled the area would think you were a couple returning home. 

The two of you walked arm and arm down a few streets, smiling pleasantly at the passing Stadwatch or the rare delegate returning to their boarding. After a few turns Kaz said you weren’t far from the safe house, which was an old apartment above a tailor.

“How did you even get an apartment above a tailor?” You teased, “Hiding a side business?”

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you both in your tracks. 

“You even twitched, I put a bullet in the girl.” 

The barrel of the gun was jammed into your back, the voice behind you ordering you both to turn with your hands up. 

The two men before you were guards for Berezin, you could tell from the crest that was pinned to their jackets. You looked around for the other two men, but they weren’t around. Hopefully, they were far away, you weren't sure if you could win a 2-1 battle tonight.

You moved to pull your flint from your pocket, you had stowed it away safely the first time you and Kaz had run for your lives tonight, now you wished you stayed holding it. Your hand slipped into the pocket of your coat, your fingertips brushed the cool material, pulling into your fist and preparing yourself to summon. You only had one chance at this. The sound of the gun firing struck you first, the deafening crack that bounced from the walls. The searing pain in your right side forced your fist open in shock, your flint clattering to the cobbles as your other hand came to cradle your side. Immediately your blood started seeping through your fingers, soaking through your coat and dripping onto the street below. You looked up at the man who shot you, just in time to see Kaz bring his cane cracking into the side of the man's face. It sent him sprawling, the force of the blow knocking him off balance. You used your opportunity to kick the second man in the shin, stunning him for long enough for Kaz to incapacitate him too. 

Kaz wound his arm around your waist, pulling you away from the two men as they groaned on the ground and dragging you up the street. 

“Just hold on a little longer,” He spoke as he led you down another side alley, “We’re almost there.”

He forced you to stop before an old door as he fiddled with the lock. The dark green paint was peeling, revealing the chipped and water-stained wood. Kaz flickered with the lock for a few seconds and the door swung open, revealing a steep staircase into the safe house. 

“You’re kidding,” You groaned, letting Kaz shuffle you into the small space as he shut and locked the door. 

“Go on then,” Kaz smirked, pushing you up the stairs. 

The two of you climbed up the stairs, silent as you struggled together. When you reached the top, Kaz opened the final door and you both tumbled through over the threshold. The safe house was less of a house and more of a safe room. Filled with crates and shadows of objects you couldn’t make out, it felt much more cramped than your room in the Slat. Kaz pulled out his bone light, casting the room in the pale green light. With the new light, you could see the space clearer. A sink in the far corner close to the only window, and a bed pushed as far from the window as possible. You stumbled over to the sink, holding yourself up on the basin as you tried to get a look in the small mirror at your wound. 

“Let me help,” Kaz ordered, pulling out a crate from the wall and forcing you to sit down. 

Kaz looked over your side, letting you know the bullet had gone straight through, but would need some stitches and to be cleaned. There was a pause where you both realized you would have to remove your coat and top so Kaz could see better. With shaky hands, you slowly unbuttoned your coat. Kaz helped you guide it off your shoulders, letting it fall out of the way. 

“You’ll have to unzip my dress,” You whispered to Kaz, hands going back to your throbbing side. 

Kaz cleared his throat, nodding and stepping around you to follow your instructions. You could feel the smooth leather of his gloves ghost over the skin on your neck as he fiddled for the zip. He couldn’t get a good grip, abandoning one of his gloves on the floor so he could hold the small tab properly. Kaz’s fingers were freezing, When he touched the skin on your back the chill seeped under your skin and into your bones. You focused all your energy on not shivering against the feeling. He gently folded the dress down, letting it fall around your hips so he could see the bullet wound clearer. It left you in your bra and skirt half of your dress, yet you didn't feel exposed. Kaz was nothing if not respectful to you and you truly felt nothing but trust for him now.

 There were no words between you as Kaz stepped to your side and crouched down. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, but he was focused solely on your wound, his brow scrunched up in a frown. 

The two of you stayed silent as Kaz worked. You handed him what he asked for, a wet rag, sutures and a needle, a bandage. When he had finally tied off the last stitch, he started to bandage your waist. By now he had abandoned his other glove to the floor too, both of them covered in your blood and useless to him. He focused on the warmth of your skin as he wrapped the bandage around your waist, making sure to wrap it a few times to ensure it was secure. When he was finished, he noticed how quiet you had gotten, staring down at the floor with slightly glazed eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Kaz’s voice came out more of a croak, just above a whisper. It pulled you from your dissociation, pulling you into the moment. You turned to look at him, The bastard of the Barrel kneeling by your side, hands stained with your blood and the most caring, almost loving look in his eyes. 

You must have lost more blood than you thought, Kaz did not love you. 

“I’m fine.” 

Kaz nodded once, shakingly pushing himself off the ground and turning on the water to wash clean his hands. You didn’t move from the crate, mostly because you were unsure of what to do and also because there wasn’t exactly space to move in the room anyway. 

“You should sleep.” Kaz said, refusing to look up at you from the sink. 

“We both should. You can take the bed.” 

Kaz shook his head, “No. You're injured, you take it.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Did you sleep last night Kaz?” 

There was a heavy silence. 

“So you need to sleep now. There's plenty of room for both of us anyway.” 

You knew as soon as you said it the atmosphere had changed. It was well known Kaz kept his distance when he wasn’t wearing gloves. You had rarely seen him without them no matter where he was. After the longest silence, Kaz finally nodded, letting out the quietest, “Okay.” 

He turned to you, “There should be a stash of clothes in one of these crates, I could find them?” 

You smiled, nodding. Sitting with the top of your dress folded down was starting to get cold and sleeping like this would only make things more awkward. 

Kaz riffled through a few crates, finding ammo and whiskey before finding the crate filled with shirts and trousers. He pulled one of each out, setting them on the bed and turning his back so that you could get changed with some semblance of modesty. It was amusing for you, that he had already seen enough but he was too kind to even risk a glance now. 

When you had gotten into the clothes, with a little struggle trying to lift your arm into the sleeve, you pulled back the quilt on the bed. Kaz helped, letting you shuffle across the bed to where it pressed to the wall. The bed was so much bigger than your one, more likely double the size. Your bed hardly fits you in it, slightly too short and skinny because of the awkward rooms of the Slat. This bed was different. Although not as soft as your own, the size meant you and Kaz both had enough room so that you weren’t too close. 

Kaz was about to lie the quilt down and get on top when you stopped him. 

“Are you mad?” 

“What?” He scoffed, confused as to why you were heckling him now.

“Kaz Brekker, you will get cold. Just get under the quilt and stop acting like we’re some teenagers who can’t get ahold of ourselves.” 

Kaz stared at you in shock, blinking down at you with pure perplexion in his eyes. 

“Jesper was right,” He sighed, getting situated under the quilt to please you. 

“Right about what?” You pressed, turning in the bed to fix him with a glare. 

“You are cranky when you're tired.” 

“Oh shut up,” You scoffed, rolling back to stare at the ceiling and now him. 

Kaz chuckled, by now the bone light was fading steadily, the pale green light becoming nothing more than a faint glow from the corner of the room. You couldn’t see Kaz’s face too well, barrel able to make out the faint outline of his features in the dark. 

For a while, the two of you lay in silence, the only noise coming from the far-off sound of waves in the harbor. With no one else on the streets, every time footsteps echoed around in the streets below, you held your breath. 

“They won’t find us,” Kaz whispered, feeling you tense next to him. 

You didn’t respond, trying not to panic yourself further. 

“Listen to me,” Kaz shifted, the bed shaking slightly under you both, “We’re safe here, I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.” 

“Wasn’t your fault,” You responded, mirroring Kaz’s movements to face him, “Jobs go wrong sometimes.” 

Kaz didn’t react, “Sleep. We’ll head back to the salt when the city wakes up.” 

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but Kaz being by your side to protect you filled you with a sense of ease. You could relax back into the pillow and trust that he was going to look after you, no matter what. As you slipped into sleep, you thought dreamily about how much you cared for the bastard of the barrel, even if he didn’t share the same feelings. 

Kaz was thinking the same as he watched over you. He sat up in the bed as soon as you had fallen asleep, staring at the door in the dark, prepared for anything that might come barreling through it. He cared too much about you to let you get hurt again, especially when he was the only one around to protect you. He would never say it out loud, like you, but he would do anything to protect you from harm in the city where no one mourned. 

#kaz brekker x you #ketterdam #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz rietveld #nina zenik x reader #six of crows nina #six of crows x reader #six of crows wylan #six of crows jesper #shadow and bone #soc #sab #one bed trope

[mediumgayitalian]

Hiiiiii

Okay so I am absolutely obsessed with your writing .

Every day I check Tumblr to see if you've uploaded anything

When they move in together how do you think they will spilt the chores ?

And do you think their aesthetic would change as they grow older ?

Thank youuu

Love youuu

OH i love this. okay.

when they move in together, how do you think they will split the chores?

they do not.

they are in an interesting situation: nico has never had to do chores in his life. as a kid, he was the son of Literal Hades and an aristocrat, he for sure had people doing that shit for him. in the lotus, they presumably had room service. he may have had to do a few chores at the military school, but a) they weren't there for long and b) as an older sister with a younger brother, bianca was doing that shit for him. she ordered him to make his bed, he did a horrible job, she huffed and did it herself because it's more of a pain in the ass to make your brother do it again than it is to do it yourself. bianca i get you. after that he was homeless, so there was obviously no cleaning there, and then he lived in his father's palace. he has never so much as done a load of laundry except maybe hastily with a public washroom sink and a bar of soap. he barely knows what a mop is.

will, on the other hand, has been in charge of both a cabin and a literal infirmary since he was 13 years old. on top of that, if i am not mistaken (i'm so sorry i still havent read toa and tsats im getting there i swear), he grew up on a farm. his ass knows how chores work, in fact i would bet money that he gets a little obsessive when it comes to cleaning. he is acutely aware of how many germs are on every single surface ever. he cleans and he does it a lot.

this could go really badly, because habit would indicate that will would be doing all of the housework and nico none, which is Bad For Relationships.

however:

nico really likes will.

will is a massive hypocrite who overworks himself. he also is a bit of a control freak.

nico is also very, very observant.

i think, in the beginning of their friendship, even, nico noticed that will, like bianca, would let the onus of cleaning and tidying fall to him because 'no one else does it right', and also, maybe, it's just easier not to fight people about it. i think this would bother him. i think he would, in his inability to, like, be normal, impulsively challenge will to a cleaning contest.

and. like. will is a competitive person, okay. maybe not about things he knows he can't win, but when he knows he's good at something? he is not letting that shit slide. look at how fast he was to dunk on octavian, how prickly he got when nico doubted his ability to outrun the romans. if nico, who will knows damn well has done like four chores in his life, tries to challenge will, mr. antiseptic is my closest friend solace, to a cleaning contest?

he is going to sweep the floor with him.

pun absolutely intended.

from there things kind of spiral. at first it's a dorky ass learning curve, because nico loses every cleaning competition so so badly and quit fucking laughing, solace, you dickead, the windows are not that streaked and also watch me spray you in the goddamn eyes, huh, how do you like that and it's just kind of...fun. for the first time in a long time cleaning up doesn't make will quietly bitter.

plus, as an added bonus, nico helping will clean up makes it less invisible when he does it. now people are starting to notice that, no, the infirmary does not magically clean and organise itself, someone does that. and maybe a few more people pitch in to help. and maybe will realises, and maybe he smiles gratefully at nico when, for the first time in years, he has two entire days off, back to back, in the summer, for the first time in years. and maybe nico thinks he is going to collapse into dust because gods will has a nice smile. not that he cares or notices or anything.

do they need to keep having competitive chores forever?

no.

but does it make both of them kind of shyly pleased and happy to remember how they started? to remember how much their friendship means to them, first and foremost, and not just their relationship?

yes.

(also, by the gods, nico is going to beat will at laundry one day. he is. as soon as he learns to fold without creasing the whole stupid shirt it's over.)

how do you think their aesthetic would change as they get older?

not much tbh.

will is pretty happy in his cargo shorts, which, mood. and nico is very committed to his Prince of Darkness look.

they are gonna have to get used to like...regular weather when they leave camp tho. i think will might begrudgingly have to get used to pants. he hates jeans with a fiery passion and any kind of slacks, but he will accept track pants.

he is also into shirts with horrible horrible puns on them. especially medical puns. he and nico frequently fight over who gets to buy shirts with bone puns on them, because they both find it funny. their closet (lol) is quickly morphing into one monster.

will complains about wearing shoes every single time he has to wear something that isn't flip-flops (again, understandable). he likes buying off-brand white converse and customizing them, though, so those are acceptable.

he refuses to wear boots under literally any circumstances. there could be three feet of snow on the ground and dumbass will be wearing chucks.

while their t-shirt situation is pretty similar, nico literally doesn't wear pants that aren't jeans. sometimes he sleeps in jeans. (not to make will's eye twitch, noooo, of course not, sometimes he just Reasonably Forgets or is Reasonably Too Lazy to get changed)

nico does also, on occasion, wear button ups, sleeves folded to just above the elbow.

will likes these very much.

especially the green one.

the green one is Very Very nice.

as for hair, nico grows his out to shoulder length so he can tie it back. he doesnt keep it much longer than that, because too long and he looks like bianca -- he always looks like her, and he never forgets that, but its important to him to remember her while still being able to think of himself as a separate person. he cuts it when it goes past his shoulders.

wills hair is literally untamable. it grows where it pleases. he hasnt had a haircut since he was six years old and somehow his hair doesnt grow down to his waist. he has no idea how long it actually is. they tried to measure it once but it changed every two minutes. the literal only time it resembles anything close to maintained is when he wears it in two french braid pigtails :) nico likes to buy him elastics with little charms on them. he wears them to suit his mood, he has a whole collection.

#I HOPE YALL LIKE #i might do something with that first one??? i liked it #anyways #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson headcanon #pjo headcanon #solangelo headcanon #will solace headcanon #nico di angelo headcanon #solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #longpost #headcanon #my writing #ask

[anna-hawk]

You tell me you hate me [Yeah, I bet you do]

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: You and Shane never got along, yet desperate circumstances make you cross an unexpected line.

Warnings/Tags: Post ZA, Canon typical violence, Enemies to lovers, Near-death experience, Hate sex, Bearded Shane

WC 9,7k // Explicit 🔞

Written for the Beardthal Bash 2023

Read it on AO3

“No… Absolutely not.” 

You crossed your arms resolutely as you stared Rick down, the man standing across from you at the large table in the Greene dining room. He closed his eyes and rubbed over them as he sighed your name pleadingly. 

“Listen, I know that you don’t like him-”

“Trust me, it’s very much mutual,” you ground out under your breath with your top lip curling up in distaste. 

“So you know I wouldn’t be askin’ you if I had another option,” Rick continued without missing a beat. 

You gave him a surly look before looking down at the large map lying unfolded on the table. Various circles and other notes were scribbled all over it, highlighting spots with existing or possible food, ammunition and fuel supplies, as well as information on walker hordes and so on. 

“Everyone is gone doin’ something else and… I’d go myself if Judith wasn’t-”

“No, you can’t leave her alone,” you cut in, your voice softening at the mention of the baby. “She needs you.” 

You gritted your teeth as you thought. 

Running across the Greene Farm several months earlier with your little group of four friends, you hadn’t expected to find a lasting shelter and people that would quickly become the next best thing to a family. Especially since things had been tense, to say the least, when you’d arrived. Between Rick and Shane, in particular, since the two leaders of the group hadn't always seen eye to eye. Shane had been less than thrilled at the idea of letting you join, while Rick had tried to convince everyone that having more people around to help would be beneficial to everyone in the long run. Hershel Greene had been the one to put a stop to the argument, reminding Shane that he’d decided to open his doors for them just a couple of months earlier and that he’d be doing the same for you. Shane had left the room in a huff, muttering about more mouths to feed. While you’d understood his concerns, his aggressive behavior had your hackles rising instantly and fighting down the urge to snap back. Still, you’d felt beyond relieved to be invited to stay. Shane had ultimately stopped complaining when your group had proven its worth more than once over the following weeks. 

With you personally, it was an entirely different story. You and Shane never managed to get along. After that first day, the man’s attitude had kept rubbing you the wrong way. Simply put, he was an utter asshole, and you’d made sure he was aware of it any chance you got. Whether he liked it or not. Whenever you were in the same room, discussing chores and missions alongside Hershel, Daryl, Rick and Hunter, one from your original group, you’d end up sniping at each other. Whatever the one said or suggested, the other would find something to complain about. It wasn’t like you couldn’t admit that he came up with clever plans or that he was generally good at keeping everyone safe, it was more his snide remarks and the way he tried to mansplain everything. It made you feel like you needed to take him down a peg. 

A few weeks after your arrival, things changed between Rick and Shane on the day you all found out that Lori was pregnant. Rick had almost lost it at the idea of them having a child in this terrible new world, especially after coming so close to losing Carl, as you’d found out a few days after settling in. Yet, while the close call had clearly done something to Rick and Shane’s friendship, maybe triggering their fights because of how they suddenly viewed things, this news changed their relationship again. You didn’t know what had happened between them after they’d found out, but things had gotten better between the two men. While their relationship had slowly been mending, you sometimes felt like Shane was only able to get along with Rick again because he was fighting with you instead. 

Looking at the map now, you checked the distance separating you from the nearest general store that you knew still had food and other goods, like baby formula, among other things. A pang of sadness ran through you at the reminder that little Judith didn’t have her mother anymore. 

“Can’t I just go on my own?” you mumbled, knowing full well that you couldn’t with how far and dangerous the road was. 

“Told ya she wouldn’t like it.” 

Shane stepped through the dining room doors and joined Rick’s side, his eyes on you and a scowl tugging down his lips, the expression almost hidden in his beard. Almost. This winter had proven to be colder than the previous ones, and both Rick and Shane had let their beards grow out. While Rick’s was lighter and less long, Shane’s beard was thick and matched his curly dark hair. 

“Sure, because you like the idea of spending hours alone with me in a car,” you sneered with a roll of your eyes. Shane’s nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened unhappily at the prospect. “Yeah, thought as much,” you scoffed and returned your attention to Rick, who sighed at the two of you but focused on the map, understanding that the matter was settled, and you would go with Shane. 

“‘kay… You’ll need to take the pickup. Hershel said that the generator’s nearly out of fuel, so are a couple of the cars, and that place…” He pointed at the gas station across from the general store. “Still had some of the bigger gas cans the last time we checked it.” 

Picking up the list with the items you were supposed to find off the table, you quickly scanned it and nodded before turning your back on the men. 

“Meet me at the car in an hour,” you told Shane without a backward glance, it was late morning and the quicker you left, the sooner you’d be back and out of each other’s hair.  

His lack of answer was answer enough, so you left the room to get ready for the trip. 

Back in the room you shared with some of the other women, you dressed according to the situation before you headed to the makeshift armory to pick out a couple of guns and knives. 

“Going out too?” 

You turned to find your friend Nicole standing in the doorway, one of her arms in a sling. She’d nearly gotten bit by a walker the previous week and thankfully only came out with a sprained shoulder. 

You nodded briefly and returned your attention to checking the bullets in the magazine and adding a few when you noticed that it wasn’t full. 

“What’s wrong? I’d have thought you’d be happy to get out of here for a bit.”

You huffed out a small laugh through your nose at her remark. She really knew you well. 

“I’m going with Shane,” you said simply, as you turned around, knowing that it would be enough to explain your mood. 

Sure enough, she grimaced. “Oh.” 

It was no secret to anyone how Shane and you felt about each other. But you were actually the odd one. As with most people in the group, except for Dale, since the older man had a penchant for being nosy, and you didn’t enjoy that about him either, Shane actually got along with Nicole rather well. It was the same for her sister Jasmine, and just as much for Hunter. They’d been as angry as you about Shane’s behavior at the start, but they’d all warmed up to the man quickly enough after a while, and it had gone both ways. Jasmine and Shane had even flirted around for a bit, before Hunter had come through and snatched her away, much to Andrea’s relief, who’d seemed to carry a torch for Shane for a while. Objectively speaking, you’d have been interested as well had Shane not been… Shane. While you shared most of your thoughts with Nicole, you certainly hadn’t admitted to finding Shane attractive. Even less about how good the beard looked on him.

“Yep.” You finished with the guns and put them into their holsters at your hips, along with a knife, while the other one went to an ankle. 

“Shit… I’m sorry. I wish I could go and-” she started, fidgeting with the sling at your situation. 

“Hey, no, no.” You gently grabbed her by her good shoulder and clasped the hand of the injured one as you gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, don’t worry, okay?” 

Nicole sighed and nodded. “Maybe… try not to kill each other?” she smiled feebly, as you let go of her, and she watched you walk past her and to the main hall. 

You snorted loudly. “No promises there.” You briefly turned towards her again and gave her a small smile. “See you later.” 

Your last stop was the small box sitting against the entrance door wall, containing all the car keys. Opening it, you grabbed the key ring for the pickup and made your way outside, glad that the weather was sunny even if the temperature was rather crisp. 

Before the whole hour had gone by, Shane joined you at the car, rifle slung over his shoulder as he stalked towards you with a duffle bag in his other hand. 

“Where are the keys?” he barked, putting his stuff in the bed of the pickup except for the rifle. 

You lifted a fist in front of you and opened the palm, letting the keys dangle from the ring sitting around your finger. 

“I’m driving,” you smirked, snapping your hand closed before Shane could get the idea of taking them from you.

“Ah, Christ,” he groused, throwing you a dirty look before heading towards the passenger side and climbing in with the gun. 

Grinning in satisfaction at his reaction, you took your seat behind the wheel and started the car. You drove down the small dirt road that led to the gate and found Dale checking the perimeter. He picked up his pace to reach the gate and opened it for you. The older man grinned at you before he noticed Shane, his smile turning into an apprehensive expression. You opened the window as you rolled up to him. 

“Rick said you’d be heading out but…” he said as he looked through the window, his voice trailing off. You could still hear the ‘I didn’t know it would be with Shane’ part. “You be careful, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane grumbled with a roll of his eyes, while you just gave Dale a tight smile and a nod. 

Nodding in silence, Dale stepped back while you pressed the button to get the window back up and drove through the gate. 

“Meddlin’ ol’ man,” Shane muttered to himself, as he stared out his side of the car. 

You didn’t say anything, agreeing with him for once. 

After driving for a long while in complete silence without meeting any walkers, you turned at an intersection. Shane sat up straighter from the slumped position he'd been in and looked around himself. 

“What are you doin'?” he snapped.

You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Driving to the store?” you replied with a tone that clearly stated ‘duh’. 

“Exactly. You shouldn’t have turned here. See, this is why I should’ve driven cause-”

“Oh, fuck you, Shane,” you bit back. “FYI, if you’d checked the map, you’d know that this is actually a shortcut. Trust me, this’ll save us at least twenty minutes.” 

“Trust you,” he rumbled under his breath, while his eyes kept checking your surroundings. 

You lifted your eyes heavenwards and sighed, mentally preparing yourself for his explanation of why he did, in fact, not trust you at all. To your surprise, though, he didn’t say anything else and only put his chin in his palm, his elbow on the door as he looked ahead. 

As promised, you arrived at the store earlier than through the original route. Since Shane had accepted your decision without too much complaining, you chose to pay him back by not going ‘I told you so’, like you actually wanted to. Instead, you parked at the gas station and slowly got out of the car, your knife in the hand under the one holding the gun. Throwing a quick glance at Shane, he nodded at you in silent understanding as you both moved to the front of the car and then took each one side of the building to inspect it. You came back to the entrance at about the same time, and Shane pushed the glass door open with a little more noise than necessary to lure any potential walkers out. Shane went in first, while you checked your back before following him inside. 

A gurgling sound came from your left. Two walkers slowly stumbled towards you, one in a more advanced state of decay than the other. You and Shane quickly took them out with your knives before you made your way through the couple of aisles to check for any potential items of interest. After several long minutes, in which you did find a few useful things like batteries and the likes, Shane walked up to you with his own large canvas bag in hand. 

“Let’s get this ball rollin’, beautiful, and get the gas,” Shane suggested, as he leaned against the aisle you were inspecting with his shoulder and jerked his chin towards the entrance door. 

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed in annoyance without looking at him as you put one last item in your bag. 

You heard him scoff. “What, you prefer I call you dick or bitch or somethin’?”

Facing him with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you stared at him with an unimpressed expression. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that. Shane was someone who easily used endearments and pet names, and you knew that it sometimes just slipped out, but considering your relationship, it simply didn’t sound right.

“Well, at least it would be more honest, wouldn’t it? But how about just calling me by my actual name?” 

Shane gave you a long look before he shook his head and laughed through his nose. 

“Y’know, just ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ pain in the ass and I could sometimes…” He made a strangling motion that had you actually snorting because that feeling sure did go both ways. “Don’ change the fact that you are.”

“Are what?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Beautiful.” He shrugged and gave you a quick once over. 

Not having expected that reply at all, your eyebrows lifted high on your forehead. You knew, without a doubt, that he was absolutely honest. Shane wasn’t someone for false pleasantries, and especially not with you. 

“Let’s just go get the gas,” you said after a couple of seconds, as you shook your head in bemusement. 

Shane only nodded and followed you outside to find the gas cans and cylinders. He drove the rear of the pickup closer to where they were stocked to make loading the car easier. There were quite a few cans left, and you felt lucky that your group had stumbled upon this little town on your way to the farm, the place recluse enough that it hadn’t been fully raided yet. Once you were done with the gas, you jogged across the road to the general store and repeated the same process as before to make sure that there was no threat. This time the coast was clear, and you separated again, with each taking a piece of the list to search for what you needed. 

You didn’t know how much time went by, but you did take your time filling the four large bags you had with you. The weather could change any day and the less frequently you needed to leave the farm, the better. Meaning that stocking up as much as possible was the way to go. Seeing how Shane meticulously scanned each aisle, he was thinking the same thing. Coming back to the front of the store, you noticed movement out of your peripheral vision and snapped your attention in that direction. Your eyes widened in terror as you took in what was happening outside. 

“Shane,” you hissed urgently, not daring to look away from the large horde that had slowly snuck up on you and was spreading through town. “Shane,” you said more loudly and finally turned to look at him.

The horde was still far enough away that none of the walkers would have been able to hear you, but you weren’t taking any chances. 

“What?” he snapped, only for his eyebrows to lower in confusion as he saw your expression. 

You saw the second he noticed the horde as his eyes looked past you and they widened like yours had. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, while quickly joining you and checking the scene, the two of you crouching down to be out of sight and peaking around the aisle. 

“There’s no way we can reach the car,” you muttered before throwing a glance at Shane, who was still looking outside, but nodded in agreement. 

You watched the front of the horde surround the pickup as it went past the car and continued ahead of the road. 

“They should just walk past us,” Shane said in a low tone, one hand on his rifle anyway, ready to aim. 

You were about to hum in agreement, when there was a commotion at the gas station and several loud crashes came from where the gas cans and cylinders stood. A few cylinders rolled into the direction of the store, and you cursed yourselves for leaving the empty ones standing next to the pickup instead of putting them away. Some of the walkers must have knocked into them as they passed. To your horror, the noise caused the horde to shift its focus, and some of the walkers began turning towards the store. 

“We gotta move,” you gasped out, as neither of you were able to hide quickly enough and you realized that a handful of walkers had seen you. 

To your surprise, Shane shot forward to the entrance, jumping over the register, instead of following you to the back. About to yell at him for his actions, you saw him locking the doors right before a small dozen of walkers crashed against the windows. 

“That’s only gonna buy us a little time,” he panted, as he ran back to you and you both grabbed the bags to hurry to the other side of the store. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later you could hear thudding sounds coming from the front, as well as cracking glass. If the whole horde pressed against the front side, the glass panels would shatter underneath the pressure, and they’d be able to get in. As the noises got louder and louder, you tried to keep a level head to think. There was an exit at the back, but it was locked, and you wouldn’t have the time to pry the door open before the walkers got in. Or the noise of you trying to open it would lure others around to stop you from leaving. Shane seemed to come to the same conclusion as he stared at the door and then at you. 

“The stairwell’s blocked too,” you sighed, as you leaned against an aisle. 

The store had another floor, with private rooms, you guessed, since the door leading to the stairs had a sign with “Private – No entry” on it. Shane nodded in acknowledgement and leaned back across from you. You felt strangely calm at your imminent death. 

“Can’t believe I’m going to kick the bucket with you,” you chuckled, as you breathed out slowly. 

Shane barked out a sharp laugh. “Could’ve been with Dale,” he smirked, knowing that this was one of the few things you agreed on. 

You snorted loudly and nodded. “Mmh, small mercies and all that, I guess. ” 

Shane hummed, while you leaned your head back and looked at the ceiling. And frowned. Some of the styrofoam tiles had fallen off, showing the metal of the air vents, the cabling… And a large hole to one side, revealing parts of the stairs above. It looked like the wall the stairwell was in had collapsed for whatever reason, and the fallen debris had caused the ceiling to break through. With several of the aisles knocked over and the general state of the store, you hadn’t bothered to check where the rubble lying on the floor had come from. 

“Shane,” you breathed, pointing to the hole in the ceiling. 

His eyes followed the direction your finger pointed at, then he turned to get a better view after realizing what you’d seen. 

“Come on,” he said urgently, as the first crashes of glass started. 

Shane jumped on top of the aisle closest to the opening in the ceiling and reached down a hand for you to pass him the bags. The list fell out of one of your bags and fluttered to the ground. About to grasp Shane’s proffered hand to help you up as well, your eyes picked up one word on the list. The item that you’d been about to get right before you’d seen the horde. 

“Be back in a sec,” you yelled, turning tails and running off, ignoring the sounds of the undead as they walked inside. 

“The fuck are you doing?!” Shane bellowed after you.

You skidded to a halt in the desired aisle, coming face to face with a walker who stumbled in our direction. With a well-placed hit of your knife to his head, it fell to the floor, leaving you to pick up what you’d come for. Turning around to run back to Shane, your path was blocked by three walkers this time, and others coming from the right. Cursing, you turned to the left and then right again, ducking the outstretched hands of some other walkers following you into the aisle you’d just walked in. One of them managed to grab the back of your coat, but before you could turn and do anything about it, another one came in from your other side. The sound of a gun shot rang through the whole store as Shane aimed from his spot on the aisle, taking out one walker after the other as they came at you. This allowed you to jerk free of the loose grip of the now dead walker and dash towards the back of the store, jumping over bodies and avoiding the moving ones, one arm still holding on to a tall container.

“Move, move, move!” Shane barked at you, as you ran up to him at full speed. 

You threw him the container, which he quickly put next to him, before you jumped and caught his hand, the momentum helping him pull you up faster. Shane tugged you upright and shot the walker trying to grab your feet as soon as both of his hands were free again. 

“Get the fuck up there!” he yelled over the noise without looking at you. 

Shane had managed to stash the bags in the opening and you did the same with the container before you grabbed onto the bars that used to hold the large, styrofoam squares to lift you through the ceiling. It took some maneuvering since you had to move over the vents to get to the hole in the wall, but it was doable. After another shot rang out, you got into the best position to aim at the growing throng of walkers gathering at Shane's feet, the aisle rattling precariously now. 

“Move!” you shouted, taking out a walker that was tall and getting too close to Shane for comfort. 

Shane looked up and instantly jumped into action, sliding the rifle through the bars to stop it from falling. He smoothly slipped through the ceiling as well and stared down at the groaning and rasping creatures. 

“Can you reach the stairs or not?” he asked with his eyes still downcast. 

Satisfied that he was safe for now, you put your gun away and started moving further over the vents to reach the stairs. You had to push broken cinder blocks to the side, some falling and taking out other styrofoam squares. It took you a couple of minutes, but you finally managed to squeeze through the opening and land on the stairs. Which led to a closed door at the top. 

“Come on.” You stuck your head back through the hole to look down at Shane, the man working to get the bags over the vents and towards you. 

You took the bags from him one at a time and grabbed his arm to pull him through as well. He leveled you a questioning stare, one eyebrow lifted, as he saw the closed door. Shrugging, you both made your way towards the door. You reached for the handle with a glance at Shane, who slung the rifle into position. The door was thankfully unlocked and opened with a long creak to reveal a small apartment. You stood inside the door for several seconds, waiting in case something moved towards you. Shane gave you a quick nod, so you stepped over the threshold and checked the place. It looked surprisingly untouched, as if the owner had left before anything happened, or they left at the beginning. Considering the damage in the stairwell, something must have exploded close by, yet thankfully left the apartment undamaged. 

“We got water,” you announced with incredulous excitement as you reflexively tested the faucets in the bathroom

“And canned food,” Shane chimed in from the small kitchenette that was sitting to the left of the apartment, while a convertible couch took up the right side with a coffee table and a TV set. 

“It’s like a luxury hotel,” you laughed lightly as you ducked your head to drink straight from the faucet. 

You heard Shane chuckle at your comparison and hum in agreement. While he retrieved the bags, you walked to the long window in the living area and looked outside. 

“Think we’re stuck here for a while,” Shane grumbled after he’d joined you, observing the mass of walkers milling around everywhere. 

You nodded with a sigh. If there hadn’t been the incident with the gas cylinders, the horde would have probably walked through town without stopping and you’d have been safe to leave at some point. You would have had to find a different way home, but you would have managed. Now, who knew how long it would take for enough walkers to wander off for you to leave without being at too much of a risk?

“Jackpot,” Shane suddenly exclaimed, having you remove your attention from the window. 

You turned to find him holding a camping stove. It wasn’t the safest object to use indoors, but it was perfect to heat some of the cans Shane had found in the pantry. Despite the cold outside and the sun setting, you opened the window a crack to let some fresh air in and evacuate most of the carbon monoxide those kinds of stoves could produce. Shane nodded approvingly at that and turned it on after getting a couple of cans and plates. You’d found a large amount of canned food downstairs, but chose to leave the contents of the bags for the farm for now. Shane also found a few packs of tall candles and lit enough of them once the sun had gone down completely for you to walk through the place comfortably. You ate in silence while you also heated a large bucket of water before you checked the place for blankets and potential toiletries. While you did that, Shane took the hot water into the bathroom to clean up a bit. He came back wearing his jeans and a thick sweater that he got from the store. Before taking his place in the bathroom, your eyes caught onto his damp hair and beard, and the way the sweater hugged his broad shoulders and trim waist. Looking away and shaking your head, you closed the door while Shane looked through the items you’d both taken and reorganized them in the bags to make them easier to carry. With a pile of blankets in hand and feeling much better after getting to take the day’s filth off and dressing into fresh clothes as well, you found Shane sitting on the couch and staring down at the container you’d run back for. 

“You risked your life for baby formula,” he stated, his voice giving nothing away, the fire of the candle creating flickering lights on his profile. 

“We’re nearly out and Judith still needs it,” you shrugged, busying yourself with unfolding the blankets. 

“Do you ever think before you act?” Shane growled at how you dismissed his words. 

“What?” you ground out, facing him again. You must have heard him wrong, right? 

“What’s the point of pullin’ a stunt like that if it gets you killed?” 

“It didn’t, did it, though?”

“Because I was there to cover your sorry ass.”

You threw your hands in the air and sighed explosively. 

“Ugh, this is why I don’t like teaming up with you. You always complain about things that might have happened.” 

“No, what you don’t like it that I’m the only one remindin’ you that your actions can have fuckin’ consequences for you or even for all of us. You – don't – think. You just do your thing and expect us to go with it.” 

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, Shane. Bossing everyone around and just deciding for everyone what’s best.” You strode up to him and stared him down. 

He rose to his feet and met your hard gaze head on. 

“Yeah, but I let people know before I do somethin’. But that’s what you don’t like, right? You're too good, too clever to bother listenin’ to others, let alone me.”

“Only because you treat me like I’m some fucking idiot little girl. I’ve gone through just as much shit as you before we got to the farm, but you act like I know shit…”

“No, no, no, I don’t treat you like some fuckin’ idiot little girl. If anythin’, I treat you like a fuckin’ idiot, period. Woman or not, I don’t give a shit. You’re a fuckin’ piece of work, is what you are. You’re so fuckin’ hot headed and stubborn, you just always expect whatever I say to be some kinda bullshit.” 

You bared your teeth at him. “Cause you keep underestimating me. No matter what I say or do, you never trust me from the start… Fuck!” you spat, your temper flaring white-hot. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Shane watched you intently as you ranted at him, his mouth pulling up into a lopsided smirk.

“Yeah… but you wanna know what pisses you off even more about all this?” Shane asked, his voice lowering as he leaned towards you, his head tilting to one side. 

“Oh, please, do enlighten me,” you scoffed with sarcasm dripping all over your words, but didn’t pull your head away. 

“No matter how much you might hate me… you still wanna fuck me.”

“What?!” you choked on your laugh as you stared at him incredulously. What the hell?

“Come on, you don’t think I noticed, but I see the way you look at me.” He lifted an eyebrow with his smirk still in place. 

“And how exactly do I look at you, pray tell?” you snorted, your mouth pulling up in amusement despite yourself. That wasn’t how you had expected the argument to go. 

Shane nodded his head from one side to the other as if he were thinking about his answer. 

“Definitely like you wanna fight me… but preferably in a bed,” he leered, to which you rolled your eyes with another snort. 

“Hm, you sound awfully sure of yourself,” you humored him with a chuckle, resisting the desire to cross your arms, not wanting to look defensive. 

Shane’s eyes slowly roved over your whole body. Then he moved just slightly closer until your faces were only a few inches apart. 

“Well, haven’t heard you denyin’ it even once, have I?” he rumbled in a low voice. 

You held his gaze defiantly but remained silent as your heartbeat picked up speed. 

“I’m sure you thought of a couple o’ ways to… settle our disagreements,” Shane continued, grinning knowingly. That smug bastard. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But I’m not sure you’d like some of the ideas I had,” you hedged, your tone light but your gaze between cutting and sultry. 

Shane laughed under his breath. 

“Ah, come on, Darlin’. Tell me what got your pussy all wet while thinkin' o’ me?”

Heat slowly spread through your face and body at his crass words and direct approach. 

“Did you think ‘bout ridin’ my face to shut me up?”

You managed to school your expression into being neutrally entertained, since Shane had hit dead center with this one. Hearing him speak your most private fantasies out loud had you breathing faster. You’d thought about riding that stupidly beautiful mouth and nose a few times, for sure, but you weren't going to admit to that. 

“Or maybe you’d be so good at suckin’ my cock with that pretty mouth of yours that I'd stop talkin'.”

Smirking and shaking your head, you inclined your head to one side. “To me, it rather sounds like you thought about it quite a bit.” You’d meant for it to come out as a taunt, but your voice came out more breathy, Shane’s words getting to you. 

Shane drew his tongue over the edge of his upper teeth. “Yeah… Maybe I have,” he replied slowly.

You both stood like that, eyes locked and breathing fast, as if in a sort of stand-off; one waiting for the other to move or say something. To give in. You didn't know how long you stood like that, the anticipation rising until it was practically unbearable. You wanted Shane, you could admit it to yourself, but to him? And what about Shane? Despite what he’d said, did he really—

Then Shane’s eyes fell to your mouth. 

As if that look triggered everything into action, you were suddenly on each other, kissing and biting at each other’s mouths. You wouldn’t be able to know who moved first, but something between you had finally snapped with that one look. Hands fisted in shirts and hair or flew over chests and asses, your bodies in constant movement as every moment of conflict between the two of you poured out in that instant. You each fought for dominance, but neither was willing to give in, and it didn’t really matter anyway. It certainly didn’t matter to you. You only needed more of this. It felt incredibly liberating to push against Shane in that way and have him pushing back with just as much strength; just the feeling of his beard scraping against your mouth and chin had your nerve endings on fire. Both sets of hands simultaneously went to the buttons of each pair of jeans, fingers grappling to get them open as fast as possible before you’d even removed your sweaters. Your lips never stopped their hungry and vicious exploration of each other’s mouths as you both shimmied out of your jeans and underwear before stepping out of them. You took the opportunity of Shane getting a foot caught in one pant leg to push him down on the couch. He’d unfolded it into a bed while you’d been in the bathroom, meaning that he had to brace himself with his hands behind himself so he wouldn’t fall flat on his back. With a smirk, you straddled his lap and crushed your mouth into his again. Shane growled and caught you without missing a beat as he sat up and pulled you further down. His hands squeezed your ass as soon as you could feel his hard dick pressing into your crotch. Slightly rocking your hips and sliding yourself over his length – of course that asshole had to have a dick as big as his ego – your hands went to the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up and off, your lips parting for a brief second. A moment later, Shane did the same with your top. Except not entirely. Instead of pulling it off as you lifted your arms, Shane twisted the fabric around your wrists into a sort of bind, stopping you from freeing your hands. He kept you like that, your hands held behind your head before he tugged them back a bit more, forcing you to arch your back, which pushed your chest out. You were now fully naked and sitting astride Shane, but barely able to move. The various candles around you lit up his face and his wolfish grin right before he bent his head towards your breasts. You groaned as he wrapped his lips around one nipple and sucked on it hard. He bit and sucked, nibbled and pinched at each of them, his free hand playing with the one his mouth wasn’t focused on and drawing moans and small cries out of you. 

As much as you enjoyed his mouth and beard on your breasts, you refused to stay bound and unable to move. While Shane was leaving marks all over your chest, you wiggled and twisted your wrists until you were able to slip one hand free. Obviously, had it been a serious situation, you doubted that you’d have been able to get out of Shane’s hold that easily. Between his distraction and the loose fabric of the sweater, however, you soon had a hand between your legs and on his dick. Shane jerked in your hold, his head lifting to your face while he let go of your other hand. Planting your knees more firmly on the bed and putting your weight forward, you pressed at his shoulders with both hands this time, until he fell onto his back. 

“Got some ideas?” he smirked, his tongue dancing over his top lip. 

“Didn’t you say something about shutting you up?” you asked conversationally, as you pressed a biting kiss to his mouth, before you swiftly moved up his body until your knees were at each side of his head.

The way Shane’s eyes lit up as he caught the meaning of your words had your pulse racing in your chest and heat pooling in your center. He apparently had really thought about this scenario before as well. His arms wrapped around your thighs as you lowered yourself over his face. With parted lips, you looked down as you slid your folds over his lips and up over his nose. That ridiculously gorgeous nose. Maybe broad and faintly crooked, but this combined with the slope of it was what made it perfect for exactly what you were doing. It felt even better than what you’d pictured while getting yourself off. Between the physical stimulation and the view, you weren’t surprised to find his nose and mouth already coated in your juices. 

“You're so much easier to be around when your mouth's busy with something else,” you teased, as you repeated the motion with relish. 

Shane shot you a look that had you bracing yourself for an attack, expecting him to hold you still as he ate you out harshly, but he took you by surprise once again. He did hold you in place, but his tongue oh so slowly slid through your lips, parting them, running around them, teasing your entrance before dragging the tip up to your clit with the faintest of touches. With the addition of his beard that he was rubbing maddeningly over your sensitive skin, this actually drove you wilder than if he’d gone fast and hard. Especially, since his eyes never left yours, him watching you watching him. As he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it with intent for the first time, he stared at you avidly, clearly getting off on the way your mouth opened further on a long cry of pleasure as you flung your head back in bliss. Leaning your head forward again, you fisted a hand in his hair and pulled his head back to rock your hips into his face harder. 

“Fuck yes, there we go, just like that,” you moaned, picking up speed as you rode his face for real this time when two of his fingers pushed inside you. 

The sensations were incredible as you moved up over his mouth and back down onto his thick fingers, the beard meeting them in the middle. But you needed to wipe that smug look off his face anyway, even as you felt the first signs of your release nearing.

“Mmh… I already liked you better with a beard ‘cause I don’t have to see half your stupid face, but this is a much better way to do it. Look how pretty you are now with my pussy hiding your face,” you taunted right after Shane managed to get another long moan out of you.

As expected, Shane glowered at you, which had you grinning in satisfaction. Except that you cried out in part shock and part outrage a few seconds later as Shane pressed the first knuckle of his thumb inside your ass, the finger wet with your essence. 

“You fucking asshole.” You slapped the top of his head, while Shane laughed darkly against your thigh, before he caught your wrist as you came back for more.

“More like your asshole, Darlin’,” he sneered before continuing. “Thought you’d enjoy it with how you always seem to have a stick up your ass.” 

Growling at him, you tugged at the arm he was holding, intending to hit him again, but Shane held strong this time, and instead, he used his shoulders to unsettle you and flip you onto your back next to him. You landed with a gasp and barely had the time to see him slipping between your legs. Since your mouth was still partly open from your hard breathing, it took Shane no effort to press two fingers between your lips and press them against your tongue. 

“Suck,” he ordered, his eyes dark, as he leaned over you, his body pressing yours down. 

You had half a mind to refuse, but it was the fact that you were sure that he was expecting that from you that had you doing as told. The flavor bursting on your tongue had you realizing that those fingers were the ones that had been inside you just a few moments ago. Keeping eye contact, you moaned around Shane’s fingers as you sucked and pulled at them, and felt satisfied by the answering groan you got in return. 

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Shane cried out a second later, as he pulled his fingers back, which you’d just bitten.

You grinned. You never said that you’d do what he wanted all the way. 

Growling and twisting his fingers in your hair, Shane kissed you harshly, his tongue fighting yours as he moved on his knees to shift his hips closer to yours. Feeling him reaching between your legs to guide himself inside you, you suddenly pushed at him. 

“Wait, wait… Not like that,” you breathed quickly. “Condoms. We should,” you trailed off at Shane’s nod of agreement, which you felt glad about because, as much as you hated to break the flow, there was no way that you were taking any chances. 

“Hold on.” Shane got off the couch and quickly rifled through one of the grocery bags. 

You watched him pull out a foil package and tear it open before he fitted the condom over his cock and knelt back between your parted legs. The way he touched you then and stared down at you irritated you. It wasn’t enough. It was too slow, too… You needed more of what was happening before.

You slapped him, the smack resounding in the small apartment. 

“Don’t you dare go soft on me now, Walsh,” you hissed. 

The slap had barely gotten Shane’s face to move, but it had the desired effect. His eyes flashed in warning, which only had you grinning devilishly, before he snarled and one of his hands went to your neck. The fingers curled around your throat, squeezing just that tiny bit that had you gasping in a sharp breath. 

“You never know went to fuckin’ stop,” he rasped viciously. 

Before you could reply, Shane pushed his hips forward and breached your entrance. He slid in with a long thrust, not bothering to give you any time to adjust to the sudden overwhelming feeling of being so full before he was pounding you into the bed. Your fingers scrabbled to get a hold on his shoulders as you screamed, while Shane slid his arms under your knees to pull your legs further apart and fold you almost in two. 

It felt amazing. Shane fucked you with brute force, his hips slapping against your ass, but the way he was staring down at you, focused on your expression, showed that he wasn’t only aiming for his own release. 

“That what you wanted, Sweetheart? Huh? Me fuckin’ that pretty pussy hard?” he whispered roughly against your lips, his beard tickling your skin. 

You took hold of his face and kissed him deeply in reply, moaning into his mouth with his every thrust. 

“Make me scream, Shane,” you half ordered and half begged, your voice low with want. “Do it.” 

With lust sparking inside his eyes, Shane reared back briefly only to throw your legs over his shoulders, and actually fold you in two this time as he picked up his earlier pace. A loud scream escaped you at the first plunge back inside you, followed by another and another. With his hands now free, one of Shane’s hands returned to your throat, the touch sending shivers down your spine as he fucked you without ever missing a beat, his eyes fixed on yours. You came completely undone a few moments later, the sheer force and intensity of Shane’s thrusts throwing you over the edge and into an orgasm that had you crying out as you could only take what Shane was giving you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Shane chanted as you tightened some more around him, his movements losing their rhythm for a moment. “So fuckin’ gorgeous like this, fuck!” 

You had your eyes shut as the wave of bliss ran over you, but you forced them open when you felt Shane start to shudder on top of you. You needed to see him come, just like he had wanted to see you. Meeting his gaze, which never seemed to have left your face, you slid your legs from his shoulders and brought them to his still moving hips, and squeezed. 

Shane came with a long hiss of pleasure, his eyes fighting to stay open as you watched each other. 

You remained unmoving as you panted and stared at each other, Shane braced on top of you with his forearms at your shoulders while your hands held on to his biceps. Now that the heat of the moment had gone, you began to feel how cold it was getting in the room. 

After a few more silent seconds, Shane got up without a word and turned away. Exhaling a small breath at the complete change in mood, you rolled off the bed to vanish into the bathroom, picking up your clothes in passing. You used some of the now tepid water remaining from earlier to clean up and caught a glimpse of your messy and fucked out appearance in the mirror. 

“What now?” you muttered to yourself as you stared at your reflection and dressed quickly. 

You shook your head decisively a second later. No, this didn't change anything. It was just sex, nothing more. It had been good, more than good, but that was it. You weren't suddenly going to get along only because you'd fucked once. Shane had to be thinking the same, of that you were certain. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, you found Shane, fully dressed once more, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over his rifle as he checked it on the coffee table by the light of a couple of candles. He'd also made the bed, and you headed for the side closest to the wall. Shane didn't look up, but it didn’t seem like he was trying to avoid you. You felt a certain measure of relief at that. No awkwardness. Good. 

With how soon it got dark in winter, you didn't know how late it was exactly, but you felt suddenly kind of exhausted. You wrapped the covers around yourself to stave off the cold, and turned on your side to face the wall, your eyes staring ahead for a moment before you closed them. 

“For what it’s worth,” Shane started after several minutes of silence. “I do trust you.”

Your eyes opened at that, landing on the wall again as you stayed where you were. 

“It’s just-” he continued, and you snorted this time, turning on your back to find him facing towards you and not the rifle anymore. You raised an eyebrow; of course there was a but. “You tend to let your emotions get the best of you… Like today, you…” he sighed, and you decided to wait him out before biting back. “Listen, I get it, okay? What you did for Judith? You know I’d do anythin’ for her ‘n Carl. But… I quickly realized that, in this world, you gotta make hard decisions in order to survive. Take a step back from your feelings, analyze, and then act… I know you think I’m an asshole about it, but it’s helped us survive through a lot of bad shit, cause people don’ play by the previous rules anymore,” he paused for a second as he stared at you. “But really? Most of all, all I’m askin’ you is that you talk to me before you run off like you did. Askin’ me to cover you or somethin’, y’know? Warn me.”

Rolling onto your side to face Shane, you rose on an elbow and held your head up with one hand. 

“You’re right,” you admitted after a beat of silence. You were aware that you let your emotions dictate a lot of your decisions, and that it wasn’t always a clever thing. As he’d said, in this world, things were different. Especially playing it solo like you’d done earlier. Now that things had calmed down, you knew that you could have died in the store had Shane not been as quick to react has he had. “Next time I’ll give you a heads-up.”

Shane hummed in satisfaction, and you grinned. 

“But,” you intoned, and Shane huffed out a snort. “As much as I get what you mean, sometimes you can’t ignore your gut feeling. When you just know that something’s up, that the split second decision you’ll make is what’s going to mean either life or death. Sometimes you don’t have the time to analyze anything.”

Shane watched you thoughtfully but nodded in agreement. 

“Look at us, agreeing on somethin’,” he chuckled as he put the rifle down next to the bed and got up. 

“Don’t get used to it,” you smirked up at him. “It’s not because we fucked once that we’re not going to fight anymore.” 

Shane barked out a loud laugh. “I wasn’t expectin’ anything less. The opposite would’ve surprised me more.”

Laughing as well, you watched Shane head into the bathroom and fell to your back again, your eyes closing. You briefly woke to the candles being extinguished and the bed dipping as Shane got in, but you only shifted under the covers and rolled to your other side. 

The next time you woke, late morning light was shining through the apartment window. Shane was standing next to it and looking outside. Stretching as you got out of bed, you quickly headed to the bathroom to take care of morning business before you joined Shane. 

“What’s the situation?” you asked as you looked outside as well and found far fewer walkers stumbling around in the parking lot. 

“This side looks okay, but we don’t know how it looks where the car is,” Shane grumbled. “This floor's not that high, but it’s gonna be a bit of a pain to get outta here if we can’t go back the other way.”

Your mouth twisted in thought, and you were about to suggest that you should go check over the vent, when something crackled with static inside your coat that was lying on a nearby chair. Shane and you stared at each other with wide eyes before you launched yourself at the coat, scrambling to find the walkie-talkie you always carried in case you needed to split up. Shane must have switched his off, but you’d completely forgotten that you’d let yours on. And if it wasn’t Shane talking through it, then it was someone from the farm, and they were close by. 

“Hey … or Shane? Do … guys copy? Over. ”

It was Jasmine’s voice. With a relieved glance in Shane’s direction, you finally got the device out and pressed the talk button. 

“Hey, Jas, we’re right here. Over” 

“Oh, thank God. We were so worried when we got home and you hadn’t come back. Where exactly are you? There are a lot of walkers around here. Over. ”

“We ran into a horde and now we’re stuck on the second floor of the store. The main access’s blocked. If you drive to the parking lot at the back of the store, we’ll be able to see you. Over.” You walked back to the window and looked outside. 

“Okay, we’ll be there soon. Over. ”

“Let’s make a rope with the sheets and get the bags down first,” Shane suggested as he opened the window to the cold winter air. 

Nodding, you both quickly put on your shoes and remaining clothes and each took a sheet to knot it with another. You felt the sudden need to laugh at the moment, feeling like you were in a bad movie and trying to escape prison. 

Shane was just done with the makeshift ropes when you heard an engine getting closer and looked through the window to see a blue pickup driving up to the store. You waved at Jasmine, who was accompanied by Hunter. A few walkers came closer as Hunter drove the back of the pickup towards the building, but Jasmine opened her side of the car and used her knife to silently kill them. Hunter jumped out of his side and you saw Jasmine slipping back into the car and into the driver’s seat as her boyfriend lifted himself into the bed of the pickup to receive the first bag of groceries. You made quick work, only stopping a couple of times to get rid of a few more walkers. With the last bag down, Hunter untied the rope so you could get down yourselves. Shane had wrapped the sheets around a long and thick rod of iron that he’d found in the debris in the corridor. It was longer than the width of the window so you could slide down the rope without fearing that it would slip free. Shane let you go first. As Shane had said, the floor wasn’t high and it took little effort to get into the pickup. Shane followed you quickly, and Hunter hit the roof of the car to indicate for Jasmine to drive. She drove towards the other side of the store and towards your own pickup. You jumped out at the side of the gas station and watched Hunter join Jasmine again before they were off and honking to get the walkers’ attention. It worked as intended, and soon enough you were able to run towards your car and climb inside. 

“Did you use the shortcut? Over,” you asked through the walkie-talkie, while Shane put the key in the ignition and started the car. 

“No, we’re driving east for now. You were talking about a horde earlier and I think that’s what we saw on the shortcut so we backtracked. Over,” Hunter explained, as Shane swerved through the walkers to join your two friends and follow behind them. 

“Okay, east it is. See you at home. Over and out.”

It took you an extra hour to get back to the farm, but you made sure that you wouldn’t lead any walkers back with you. Nicole, who was standing on the porch steps and watching you pull up, drew you into a bear hug as soon as you were out of the car. You smiled into the side of her neck as you squeezed her back. 

The rest of your family came out of the large house as well. Judith was sitting on her father’s hip and sucking on a pacifier while Carl came running towards Shane. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Shane cooed, as he approached father and daughter, kissing her tiny head after he’d hugged Carl and ruffled his hair. 

“You guys okay?” Rick asked, scanning the both of you for injuries. 

“Yeah, we’re good, don’t worry,” Shane said, as he walked up the steps and started explaining what had happened to the people following him. 

“And here I thought that you’d finally killed each other,” Nicole said, laughing at her joke as you began walking up the porch steps with her.

You smiled and hummed, faking a serious look. “It was a near miss,” you grinned as you entered the crowded kitchen.

Shane was drinking down a tall glass of water, and your eyes met over the glass. 

“What was a near miss?” Maggie asked from her perch on a stool. 

“Before they left, I was joking about them trying to not kill each other and I thought that they might have failed when they didn’t come back,” Nicole explained with a small chuckle and got an amused snort from everyone. 

“Yeah,” Shane laughed under his breath. “Sure was a near miss.” 

You looked at each other for a second, faces impassive, but you were both clearly thinking about the same thing. Then the moment passed, and Shane continued the story like nothing ever happened.

After all, it had only been a one-time thing…

#beardthalbash #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh x female reader #shane walsh #the walking dead #shane walsh fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #shane walsh smut #mes fics #Jon Bernthal #full fic

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS ZERO Animate Tokuten Drama CD “A Vampire’s Late Night Snack Terror” [Reiji ver.]

Original title: 夜更かしヴァンパイアの食テロ飯 [レイジ編]

Source: Diabolik Lovers ZERO Vol. 8 Animate Tokuten CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi

Translator’s note: Honestly, Reiji deserves so much more respect than what he gets. Not only does this man get up early to get chores done because his other five brothers won’t do jack-shit, he even goes out of his way to do extra groceries and make a first-class breakfast for his girl. I feel like most of the other Diaboys could barely even toast a piece of bread without burning it lol. 

*Cling cling*

You enter the kitchen.

“...Hm? What is the matter? It is still too early to be getting up.” 

You ask him why he is up already.

“Unlike the other people at this home, I happen to have an extensive to-do list, so I must get started with all of my chores early, or else I will regret it afterwards. ーー More importantly, you mentioned something about not being able to sleep? If you are feeling unwell, I can get you some medicine.”

You explain.

“Do not tell me...You cannot sleep because of the hunger? How unfortunate...I cannot believe your stomach is growling despite getting three proper meals a day. You should know better.”

You apologize. 

“Well, I shall forgive you this once. I suppose it is partially my responsibility as well for not looking after you better. ーー I suppose it cannot be helped. We still have time before we have to leave to school, so I shall make you an early breakfast.”

You seem excited. 

“Yes. If you have any requests, go ahead. As you should be aware, I am quite confident in my own cooking abilities. No matter how complex or luxurious of a dish, I will prepare it to perfection. Well then, what is your order?”

You make your request.

“What did you...say just now?”

You repeat it.

“You are asking me to make...tamagogake-gohan, out of all things? You crack a raw egg (1) over the rice, add some soy sauce and you’re done. You want me to go out of my way to make something so simple?”

You ask him if he won’t make it. 

“No, I never said that I will not make it. ...Very well! I shall show you what a real plate of eggs over rice looks like!”

*Thud*

“In which case, we must first gathered the necessary ingredients. There is no time to lose! I shall call the limousine at once. Off we go!”

You seem surprised.

“What are you doing!? Come on, make haste!”

*TIMESKIP*

*Clatter clatter*

*Rustle*

“It is truly a blessing that there are stores which are still open in the middle of the night.”

You offer to pay for the parking fee since he has his hands full with the groceries.

“That would be a big help. This is the money. Here you go.”

 You ask Reiji what is inside the bags in his arms. 

“Excuse me? Can you not tell? They’re bags of rice. There’s high-quality rice inside.”

You seem surprised.

“You came along not even realizing why we took the car? Haah...You truly need to do something about how slow-witted you are. One cannot cook without the right ingredients, so we shall we going around to gather all of the necessary things. ーー The very best ones available!

Tamagogake-gohan consists of a perfectly balanced combination of eggs, soy sauce and rice with each ingredient being brought to its full potential. We cannot afford skimping on any of them. ...I happen to be a regular at this store, you see. The rice sold at this store has been selected by a rice connoisseur of which only a few exist in this country, so it is of the highest quality!”

You tilt your head to the side.

“You do not even know what a ‘rice connoisseur’ is...? Take should be common knowledge. Make sure to do your research afterwards, understood? Anyway, we are headed for the chicken farm next. I know it is quite late, but I am sure I can arrange something by using my connections.”

You frown.

“Why the hesitation? We are talking about the eggs which are the main star of the dish! I will not make any compromises!”

*Rustle*

“No more dawdling! Let’s go!”

*TIMESKIP*

The two of you return home.

*Thud*

“...Haah. That ended up taking more time than I anticipated.”

You admit being glad that you’re finally done. 

“What nonsense are you spouting? We finally gathered all necessary ingredients! If we’re ‘done’, why did we get these fresh ingredients in the first place? But we must make haste, or else the others will wake up.”

*Rustle*

“To the kitchen at once! We shall start cooking!”

The two of you go to the kitchen.

“We shall start by cooking the rice. I believe that I can skip over the instructions for this one.”

Reiji gets the rice cooker started. 

*Beep*

“Next we must choose which bowl to serve it in.”

You ask if that is important.

“Why of course. A high class meal is not only defined by the food itself. One must choose a plate which will truly bring the dish to life.” 

*Cling cling*

“Let me think...Usually I would go for something a little more ‘art nouveau’, but how about we use this bowl today? I am glad I decided to purchase this one for moments like this.”

You note that it is quite plain.

“What are you saying? A plain bowl is a fine piece of silverware as well! Just look at the gloss and pattern, simply marvelous!”

You raise one brow.

“Why are you giving me that look? I do understand that I might sound rather out-of-character right now, but look at it like this. I even went out of my way to buy a home-style takoyaki grill to hold a takoyaki party at home, so I must keep the name of the Sakamaki household high. ...More importantly, we should finish setting the table before the rice is done cooking. Well then, please lend me a hand.”

*TIMESKIP*

Reiji opens the rice cooker.

“It turned out rather nicely. The rice looks shiny and has the right amount of fluffiness to it. As to be expected of a dish made with a product from a true rice connoisseur!”

You point out that his glasses have fogged up. 

“Do not worry about my glasses being fogged up. It is only natural for this to happen when exposed to hot steam.”

*Cling cling*

“More importantly...Let us get started! ...Allow me to show you my skills! ーー I shall start by scooping the fluffy rice into the bowl. Rather than filling it to the brim, I will serve a moderate portion. This is the most elegant way to serve it. Then on top I will sprinkle some cod roe, dried seaweed and yuzu salt. ...It would be rather boring to stick to the basic recipe, no? This is my personal interpretation of the dish, do not worry. I can assure that it will taste sublime.”

He cracks an egg.

“Well then, last but not least we crack in a fresh, raw egg and pour some of this special soy sauce on top. ーー It is done. This is the Sakamaki household’s version of tamagogake-gohan!”

*Thud*

“Well then, here you go. Please dig in while it is hot.”

 You take a bite.

“How is it?”

You tell him that it’s delicious. 

“Why of course. It is a dish which was carefully crafted to bring out all of the aromas, flavors and textures to their fullest after all. The rich eggs and the deep flavor of the soy sauce go perfectly with the fluffy rice. However, right when you think that it might be a little blend and one-toned, the cod roe, seaweed and yuzu salt kick to add a new flavor profile so you never get tired of eating it. 

This is how tamagogake-gohan should be. Do you comprehend?”

You nod.

“Pleasing your palate is child’s play. ...Well then, usually I would go wake up the others around this hour, but I suppose we can postpone it a little for today.”

You ask Reiji if he will have breakfast as well.

“Yes, I figured this was a fine opportunity for me to enjoy a meal alongside you. You could say this is my award for all the hard work I put in. You do not mind, do you?”

He joins you at the table.

“Usually there is always someone making a fuss. I rarely ever get the chance to enjoy a meal in peace. In that regard, perhaps I should be grateful to you. However, make sure to warn me before you get peckish, okay?”

You nod.

“Very well. Let us dig in then.”

*Cling*

“...Mm. I suppose having a meal together with just the two of us like this is quite enjoyable every now and then.”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Raw eggs are commonly consumed in Japan since the country has no history of salmonella being found in eggs. By cracking the egg on top of steaming-hot rice and instantly mixing it together, the heat from the rice will also slightly cook the egg, so it’s not 100% raw when you eat it. Still, the consistency of the dish is quite ‘goopy’ - for lack of a better word - so I understand why a lot of people (myself included) would not find it very appetizing. :p

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #diabolik lovers zero #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

[swordduels]

He is sitting there, minding his own business as well, wanting to get away, but knowing by the time he reaches the gate, he will be a donkey once more, so he is trapped here, with them, around himself nothing other than idiots as well on every single possible level. “Tsh.” As he rolls his eyes and would eat the apples that had been chopped up, he did not wish to see her, or anyone else, he wanted to be left alone, to work, which was to do nothing at all, he had his human body back, he was content, but escape, was impossible for him, as he would feel the itch for the moment and his ears would twitch. “Ugh!” Why, what had he done right now, what had he done this time, what had he done to deserve this as his ears had stretched and sat upon the top of his head, again, once again the proud set of jackass ears, why! Because he stole the apples, or because he killed the visitors that came here, which was it this time around, can he be left alone and not become a mule, could she leave him alone for that!

Circe had been bored out of her mind ever since Clarimonde decided to turn back to her precious farm. There was so much potential for chaos and mayhem since the gates were wide open for everything to pass through. It was somewhat amusing to witness the accidental moments when magic was performed but other than that she was dissapointed.

She had offered to be a teacher but Clarimonde had been so busy. Building things. Visiting families. Act as a teacher. Holding rituals. Giving orders. Having children, yuck. That snotty baby and the adopted twins took away even more time that could be spent to learn magic.

She did admire the effort of building a cult but they could be so much more.

Circe believed this day would have the same old pattern of everyone waking up, having a meal and doing chores. But she soon found out something had changed. After swirling around Clarimonde she returned to see Regulus back in human form. Feasting on apples while piles of bodies had colored the floor.

Oh dear. This was unexpected and troubling...

The witch swirled towards him. "Hmm. I see you havent quite turned back." She stated whole looking at his donkey ears before sitting down beside him. "So, what is your plan now?" Clarimonde had done something right when making a barrier to keep him from leaving by turning back into a donkey. They also managed to put protective spells on themself and the children.

The question was, was it enough?

He was still a dangerous force and people had already been sacrificed to his whims. She didn't mind violence or blood but a man child such as Regulus truly didn't deserve such incredible powers.

No. She wanted a fierce witch to rise above petty men to make them bleed and beg for forgiveness. Circe wanted someone like Clarimonde to give into rage, become a master and take away their dignity.

Clarimonde had to survive...

"You did make quite a mess in here and since you killed these ones, their loved ones will wonder where they went. Then there will be more people arriving to search for them. Not to mention people who are trying to prepare the very food you are eating or those who come to pray in your honor." For once she wasn't spitting out insults or spoke in a condecending tone. Instead she was calm and collected.

"What do think will happen if you keep killing people like this?"

@fallesto

#Fallesto #Circe speaks #The donkey King returned x3

[ahedderick]

Your time is different than my time

Town or city folks' perceptions of "country living" will never cease to baffle me.

Example one. I have an acquaintance in town who is a few years younger than I am. She lives with her husband and four kids who range from around 10 to 23ish. A few days ago she sent me email asking if my son could come stack a load of firewood for her. From her perspective it probably seemed like "oh, these Farm People stack wood all the time! Totally a good job for him!"

From our perspective, Son is working all the hours of the day either on school stuff, OUR farm work, or his pt job at the school gym. He barely has time to eat, much less take on chores for another family. And MY perspective is; why in that house of SIX able-bodied people is there no one who will take the time to stack some wood? They could do it all together and be done in no time? Yes, they're busy, but so are we! I told her no politely, and it was no big deal, but . . left me with questions.

A few years ago I mentioned to a guest of my father's that I would need to cut down some little pawpaw seedlings that were growing right underneath the parent tree. Pawpaw aren't very transplantable, because they have a tap root and they die if it gets damaged at all. In our heavy clay soils, there would be no practical way to gently dig even a small one up without damaging the root at least a little. The elderly lady I was speaking to made puppy eyes (seriously? making puppy eyes at me?) and sweetly cooed, "but can't you t-r-y?"

I did not throw up. I did tell her "No" very bluntly. Because on this land which contains literally thousands of trees and more work than I can ever possibly do, it is not worth my time to try to 'rescue' a seedling that came up in the wrong spot. I can plant other trees in better spots! Just by tossing a ripe fruit down in the fall and letting nature handle it!

Anyway. Folks are weird sometimes. THEY have busy lives and sometimes more work than they can handle. But we, taking care of this farm, do not. ?

#farmblr #farm living

[luv4fandoms]

Another headcanon that I'm obsessed with (as much as I'm obsessed with the idea of Marko being Italian)

Is David being originally from the south (This might partially be because I am a big Doc Scurlock fan but lol)

But also like..there isn't that much of a leap from gunslinger to biker in my opinion lol.

I could have seen David growing up on a farm, herding cattle with his dad and maybe brothers (I think he had 3 brothers, him being the oldest) and so he's used to taking charge, he's used to being the man of the house when his dad had to run to town, which was a two day trip.

But all good things must come to an end.

He had gone to town, a task that his father had asked one of his younger brothers to do but David did instead, after all, he had done all his chores early that day, and his brothers could take care of the horses for the one day he would be absent. He also didn't like his younger brothers going into town alone, he knew there were rough characters there.

Upon his return though he found something that had made his blood run cold...his whole family dead.

David instantly blamed himself, swore that if he would have been home he would have been able to save them, that he would have had control over the situation, even at 13.

A year later after living on his own and trying to find who killed his family, David learned the truth. His father had a few vices, 1. He was a heavy gambler, and his trips into town often left him broke and in debt. And 2. His father had an eye for taken women. Both of which left him with more enemies than friends. But it was when he got a little too friendly with and spent the night with a local gunslinger's wife that he officially had a bounty on his head.

His mother and brothers had just been casualties of the revenge.

At 14 he vowed to find the men who did it and kill them, and he spent the next 5 years doing that. Living as a gunslinger himself, taking bounties that would pay well and talking his way into the good graces of deep pocketed men and beautiful women. If he needed to, he would steal, but why steal when you can manipulate people into giving you money?

That was how he found Max, Max was one of the rich men whose good side David got on. He was impressed by David's wit, after all, in those times it was hard to find.

He had asked David what he planned to do with his life after he got his revenge, to which David didn't have an answer, having been so caught up on avenging his family, he hadn't thought of after. That was when Max offered David the gift of immortality, convinced him he would find the men faster with it, and that afterwards, well, he could do whatever he wanted. David did think it over, weighed his options, after all what Max was offering him had its pros and cons. But eventually the offer tempted him too much to pass up.

So that night Max turned him on his 21st Birthday.

And a few months later he found the gang that killed his family, getting revenge.

He wandered around a lot after that, doing whatever he pleased, but in the end he always stayed close to Max, always in the same state if not the same town. Slowly as time went on he found who he was, who he wanted to be outside of Max and his Vampirism, though he would never even think of getting rid of it if he had the chance, it was who he was now, but he knew he didn't have to be Max's shadow.

(I also think it was during his wandering that he met Dwayne and his tribe)

It took him a bit to hide his southern accent, and to this day he can still slip in and out of it.

There are also times he does think about his family, but after so long he feels very disconnected from it, like it was a whole other life, which he guesses, it was.

After all, he has three new brothers now, and he'll be damned if he lets history repeat itself.

Like I said, I am obsessed with Southern/Gunslinger David lol

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys headcanons #david the lost boys #tlb #tlb 1987 #tlb headcanons #david tlb #david headcanons #gunslinger david #southern david #cowboy david #kiefer sutherland

[bungalowbear]

Lord of the Valley: The Lord

Pairing: vampire!Nanami Kento x reader

Summary: The neighborhood welcomes a representative.

Warnings: self-inflicted bleeding (from biting), blood, messy kissing

Word Count: 1,000

A/N: Episode five of Mignon was a major inspiration for the end of this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

During the following week you split your days between the house and the plot of farming land at the bottom of the hill. You do your chores and get work done on your laptop then Chiyo follows you to the plot where you’ve started preparing for a garden.

All residents own plots at the base of the hill. You see Mika and Tadashi often and, gradually, you meet more of your neighbors. Most of them are older. They tell you about how their houses have been passed down through generations. Tell you about how peaceful rural living truly is better than city life. And they tell you about Lord Nanami, who owns all the land in this valley.

“Except my family’s home, of course,” you say.

“Of course, of course,” one of the elderly men rushes to assure.

“But he’s so wonderful to us,” another woman chimes. “Keeps trouble away, built a school for the children, and never forgets a birthday.”

“Sounds like a saint.” You wipe some sweat off your forehead. The afternoon sun beats down stronger today. “And he expects nothing in return?”

“Well…” The woman trails off. You wait for her to elaborate. “Not much…”

You should feel bad about teasing them, but you can’t help fix your expression into one of cluelessness as you push the silence further. Your fun is cut short though when a man calls out from the top of the hill. As he descends they all bow and greet him in unison, regarding him with fondness. He’s around your age with short brown hair and wide expressive eyes. He’s friendly in the way he interacts with the others, disposition nearly as blinding as the sun, but your trained senses deduce what he really is.

A familiar.

As if you’d spoken the word aloud, he turns to face you.

“I am Haibara Yu.” He bows as he introduces himself. You do the same. “I welcome you to the valley on behalf of my master, Lord Nanami.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“Apologies for not coming to see you sooner. My master has been very busy, but please be assured he has long anticipated your arrival.”

You grin. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Haibara’s expression lights up. He reminds you of a puppy. “And he would be honored if you would visit him tonight.”

The men and women around you titter with excitement. Somehow, Haibara’s eyes grow larger as he joins them in waiting with baited breath for your answer.

You put them out of their misery.

“I accept.”

You drive up the winding road to the top of the mountain where Lord Nanami resides. It’s a modest house with several extensions built within the mountain’s natural landscape. Haibara meets you at the gate and you follow him along a stone path around the side of the house.

The garden is magnificent. With the large expanse of neatly trimmed grass, evergreens towering over the koi pond, and the scenic view of the entire valley, it’s nothing short of the perfect retreat.

Haibara leads you to a table and two wooden chairs where Lord Nanami waits for you. He sits at an angle with one leg over the other with hands folded over his knee. His head is tilted down, as if in thought, blonde hair shining in the moonlight.

When you approach, Haibara announces you. He pours your tea, bowing before leaving you alone with his master.

You take the cup in your hands, blowing away the steam. Nanami is the first to speak.

“It’s been decades. I wondered if your family would make another appearance.”

“A mere blink of an eye for you, I’m sure,” you say.

He hums, agreeing.

“So,” you take a sip, “to what do I owe the pleasure of joining you in your beautiful garden?”

“You will not bring trouble to the people of this valley.”

He’s direct. So are you.

“I have no issues with them.”

“Troubling me means you trouble them,” he warns. “And I won’t allow it.”

“You forget my occupation.”

“I remember.”

“Then you’re aware of my sworn duty to rid this world of monsters like you.”

“What have I done that is so monstrous?” he asks. “I encourage you to speak to them. They’ll tell you the truth about me.”

“They only know the half truth you’ve shown them. But I know you wholly.”

Your tongue runs across your bottom lip before biting down, hard, enough to draw blood. Your teeth catch on the wound and pull back to open it further. Blood trails out the corner of your mouth.

You stand, discarding your tea, and designate Nanami’s lap as your new seat. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you lean in close.

“I know what you truly crave. Not just blood…”

Nanami does well to keep his composure, but you see the tension in his jaw. His blown out pupils. The scent of your blood slowly coaxes his tongue out from between his lips.

“No, you crave the chase.” Your hands press against thick muscle. “To sink your fingers into your prey. Not receive, but take.”

Suddenly, cold hands take hold of your face. Your lips curve devilishly before you’re roughly pulled forward. His mouth opens up to greedily devour you, tongue working in a frenzy to lap away at every last drop of blood you shed. His lips follow the trail of crimson down your chin.

“You’ve tempered yourself, but I saw it in your eyes that night.” You’re breathless with the power you feel in this moment. It’s exhilarating, so you goad him further. “You’re aching for it.”

Nanami growls and slots his lips against yours again. He plunges his tongue inside your mouth, frustration building when you don’t submit to his ministrations. Your hands clutch around his neck the sloppier you become until the need for air is too great.

“Let me know when you’re tired of playing farmer,” you say, retreating. “I’d like to hunt a proper vampire.”

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @bungalowbear-archive and turn on notifications.

Dividers by @saradika

#catalog #lord of the valley #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #vampire!nanami #vampire!au

[earth2rin]

STRAWBERRY WINE

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

just a drabble, lmk if i should turn this to a fic🤭

tooth rotting fluff, ooc baku, yes this is self indulgent…

~

cowboy!bakugo who is the sweetest gentleman in town to the naked eye, but is a gruff and angry person around people who know him.

cowboy!bakugo who works his butt off at 5:30 in the morning on his dads farm until 7:30 when he has to go to school. hardly ever going out with friends on weekends or staying out late on weekdays because he has to be up and early for his chores in the mornings.

cowboy!bakugo who’s daddy bought him a brand new ford f-150 for his 16th birthday, a token of appreciation and a thank you for all his hard work over the years. bakugo couldn’t stop talking about the truck for a whole week.

cowboy!bakugo who was blown away by your beauty when you knocked on his front door with a little piggy in your arms, claiming that it had strayed away to your dads pasture in the recent storm.

cowboy!bakugo who could not remember your face for the life of him. surely he had to have seen you before, you lived in teeny tiny town. and then it hit him. the pastors daughter. he’d seen your sweet face at the easter egg hunt after sunday service helping the little ones find eggs. he’d had you in a few classes over the years but never really spoke to you. he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed you sooner.

cowboy!bakugo who sees your face every where now. walking down the hallways, finding your face in the gym during a pep-rally and he even noticed that you always sat in the front pew to the left during church.

cowboy!bakugo who always holds the door open for you, for anyone really, but the moment he sees you walking towards a door he’s the first to get up and hold it for you. his stomach churns a little when you give him that gorgeous smile of yours and tell him thank you.

cowboy!bakugo who starts talking to you more during chemistry class, after sunday service and even stopping to talk to you in the hallways sometimes. you guys conversate by the lockers, and bakugos friends are always behind you, kirishima wiping fake tears, sero holding his hands together as he sighs dreamily and kaminaris back facing bakugo as he wraps his arms around himself as if to mimic kissing someone. he always ends up punching them after he’s done talking to you for the stunt they pulled.

cowboy!bakugo who stutters over his words while asking you for your number, claiming it was solely for when the church had events and he could ask the date and time for said events (which him and you both knew was bull, but you still gladly gave him it with a smile on your face).

cowboy!bakugo who is constantly texting you in his free time, asking you about your day, how school was and asking if you wanted to hangout with him and his friends after school at some diner. of course you always said yes and you brought your good friends ochako and tsu along with you. you always shared a root beer float with bakugo, even if you got teased about it.

he always dropped you off last and would walk you to your front door. you would kiss his cheek and thank him for paying for your meal, even though he didn’t have to, and of course he’d insist that that’s how you treat a pretty lady. you’d both say your goodnights and 30 minutes later you’d both be on call with each other talking about all kinds of things.

cowboy!bakugo who’s asks your dad for his permission to ask you out on a date, and when your father allows it he gets to planning.

cowboy!bakugo who asks you out after hanging out with his friends while he’s dropping you off. you’ve got the biggest smile on your face as you nod vigorously and leap in his arms for a hug. he tells you he’ll text you the details when he gets home, and you both say your goodbyes.

cowboy!bakugo who begs his father to let him sleep in a little this saturday, because he’s taking you on that date friday night and he wants to spend as much time with you as possible. even if it means losing a little sleep.

cowboy!bakugo who comes to your house with a pretty bouquet of tulips, your favorite, looking so very handsome in his white american fighter shirt, rock revival bootcuts, white hey dudes and his grey and white lazy j snapback. he opens his truck door for you and drives you to the hidden location of your date.

cowboy!bakugo who jams out to george straight as he drives you way out on his dads pasture and you laugh as he sings off key to “write this down”. he just smiles at you and keeps singing horribly to hear those sweet giggles from you.

cowboy!bakugo who stops at a body of water surrounded by trees about 10 miles from his house. he backs up so his tailgate is facing the water and parks, going around his truck to open the door for you.

he leads you towards the tailgate and opens it, revealing thick blankets and pillows on the cargo bed. he helps you up and lets you get settled as he goes to the back cab and grabs a picnic basket he was hiding. your heart leaps when he joins you and you give him the biggest hug ever. of course he returns it and you both begin eating what’s in the basket.

cowboy!bakugo who stayed up all night and made a strawberry crunch poke cake, and heart jam cookies just for you because he knows you love strawberries. earlier that morning he made finger sandwiches and pasta salad and just before he left he made a mini charcuterie board for the two of you.

cowboy!bakugo who feeds you cheese and grapes and you laugh when you bite into the grape and the juice spays him in the face. you grab a napkin and wipe his cheek and he has the softest smile on his face.

cowboy!bakugo who cleans up the food after y’all are done and puts the basket behind you guys, and you both scoot up to the tail gate, feet dangling and watching the sunset. you lean your head on his shoulder and hold his hand, enjoying his presence.

cowboy!bakugo who plays music as the sun is finally setting and he asks you to dance with him. you happily agree and he goes and open his truck doors, allowing the music to be louder.

tennessee whiskey plays and you both are swaying to the song, holding each other close and singing along to the music. you both laugh a little because you’re kind of a bad dancer, so he insist that you stand on his feet.

cowboy!bakugo who after the sun is down and the stars are out, lays down on the blankets with you next to him and star gaze. he claims that this was the best place to see the stars, away from all the lights of the town. the earth is quiet, and it feels like it’s just the two of you here. it gets a little chilly and you shiver, he notices and quickly pulls you into his side and throws a fleece blanket over you two.

cowboy!bakugo who talks about anything with you, whether it be the mandela effect, mrs. johnson’s snaggle tooth or about how he wants to have his dads farm when he’s older. you listen intently and reply back to him, and he laughs when you suggest that you and him should just grab a pair of pliers and rip mrs. johnson’s tooth out.

cowboy!bakugo who gets all sweaty and clammy when he finally grows a pair and asks you to be his girlfriend. you don’t respond, and instead you press your lips against his soft ones, and let your lips do the talking.

cowboy!bakugo who grins and says “ ‘don’t think your answer was clear enough f’me, ya mind doing that again?” and you giggle and gladly do it again.

#not proofread #brain went brrr #bakugo katuski #soft and fluffy #bnha #i love cowboys #cowboy au #country boy #picnic date #so sweeeeeeeeeet #tooth rotting fluff #brainrot #bakugou x reader

[batmanfruitloops]

Onto Jonathan Crane, the ever terrifying and sleepless Scarecrow.

Jonathan was born to Gerald and Karen Crane, although never knew his mother as she died in child birth. His father was a country man and a biology teacher, and he did his best to show Jo (Jonathan's nickname for the sake of convenience) all the love he could as well as inform him about nature and animals. At 4 years old, however, his father asked his mother in-law, Marion Keeny, to watch Jo while he looked for a better job in Gotham City. Despite holding great resentment towards Gerald for "taking her daughter away," she agrees to look after Jo. Gerald is killed due to gang crossfire and Jo is then fully in his grandmother's custody.

While in Marion's care, it was quite clear that Jo was unwanted. Being a highly religious woman, she hated the fact that Gerald and her daughter Karen had eloped, unable to believe that she herself had driven her daughter away by being controlling and lauding holiness above all else. To make matters worse, she also blamed Karen's death on Jo, believing his existence to be demonic in nature. Marion had workers on her farm, but when Jo was home, he'd be the only one getting chores done. Being tired or hungry was no excuse not to get work done, nor could he slack on religious study or his school work. Any little thing that made her angry would lead to a beating; either by her own hands or to crows pecking at him on their property or while locked in an abandoned church. Due to this, Jo developed depression from a young age and had confided in his grandmother once, only to be told that it wasn't real and that such a notion would upset God. It's also during this time that Jo hurt contemplating hurting himself, but avoided doing so only because he feared what his grandmother would do if she found out.

The only good thing that came from living with his grandmother was the animals, especially an Irish Draught Mare named Ashpuddle. She was his source of comfort with which he could tell anything and pet and hold her as needed. He rode her around the property to do chores and sometimes to get away to a small creek in a far corner of the property.

Jo's school life wasn't much better. He was bullied for his appearance being similar to that of Ichabod Crane. Too lanky, too tall, peircing silvery blue eyes, a smile that made you shiver, and a soft yet deep (how deep still depended on his current age), raspy voice that made anything he said seem ominous. They were overreacting, of course, but it cut deeply, nonetheless. How could Jo believe anything else when that's all he heard? The crows that his grandmother had sent after him also had a habit of following him if they knew where he was, and that only added to people's fear, as well as Jo's own. He was physically bullied as well as verbally. Mainly by Bo, his girlfriend Sherry, and all of his other friends. Jo got used to slinking through crowds and booking it out of school to get home. If Bo caught up, Jo would be beaten and harassed. This running also lent to Jo's innate skill of being super flexible and being able to move in ways that others couldn't, such as jumping over a fence, or climbing up alleyways to spots that Bo couldn't feasibly follow.

Despite his reputation, Bo's girlfriend Sherry had developed a crush on him. In their sophomore year, she confessed to Jo alone, and he had politely declined, although he wasn't against just being friends. Sherry became full of rage because of this, and convinced Jo to meet her alone once again to spend some quality time together. Unbeknownst to Jo, Bo was hiding in said room, dressed as The Headless Horseman and ready to strike. Jo was confused by the dark room but decided to trust Sherry. She was the first person to agree to being his friend, after all. Suddenly, Bo popped up and yelled, scaring Jo terribly and he left more hurt and angry than he had in a long time. He was going to get them back, and they were the ones who'd never be able to forget being terrified.

It was the night of the Halloween dance, and Jo had dressed up as a Scarecrow, mounting Ashpuddle and waiting in the trees near the road. When he saw Bo's car approaching, Ashpuddle dashed out, and he pointed a water pistol at them. Horrified, Bo swerved, and Jo laughed as he saw them steer into the woods, unaware that he caused them to crash and be injured for life. Unlike most versions, Sherry doesn't die but is still terribly injured, and Bo is paralyzing from the waist down. Jo goes home satisfied with himself, and is even more delighted when Bo and Sherry are not at school for the next couple of days. However when he learns that the reason Bo and Sherry aren't at school is because they're in the hospital, he freaks out. He had only meant to scare them. He had no intention of either getting hurt, let alone for life. It makes him feel like he's just as much the monster as his grandmother says he is.

Not soon after this event, Jo comes home from school to find that Ashpuddle and all the animals are gone. He confronts his grandmother about this and she admits to having sold them all. She needed the money, and they weren't worth keeping around anymore anyway. This breaks Jo's heart, and any support he got from Ashpuddle is gone. Because of this, it isn't long before Jo is fed up with his grandmother more than usual. He's being too slow to make dinner and she's about to hit him. Too scared and just wanting it to be over, Jo stabs her with the knife he was holding, continuing to stab her until she stops moving. When Jo comes to and realizes what he's done, he shuts down. He still calls the police on himself, but he doesn't have the energy left to fight. He just sits there and lets them take him away when they arrive.

Since Jo was only 16 at the time of the murder, he's placed in Gotham's foster system. They weren't very good, much like most of Gotham's medical and care institutions. Jo refused to be adopted and so they didn't make him, although they were certainly begrudging about caring for him and providing him the schoolwork he would have done, had he still been attending the one from before. It is also during this time that Jo hurts himself for the first time, getting ahold of a razor and cutting up his arms. The staff finds out and is annoyed instead of sympathetic, grabbing Jo by the injured part of his arms and making him do whatever task he was supposed to, not caring if the cuts started bleeding, if not for getting blood on themselves. Jo never developed a connection with anyone there and only solidified his distrust of others and gave him time to be curious about fear and how it affects people.

After making it through the foster system, Jo makes his own way through odd jobs to make as much money for college as possible. It's basically all he did before attending, spending little time on himself or any of his hobbies, really. Even in college, Jo continued to work hard with his head down, trying to avoid as much attention as possible. He was even able to land a job as a psychiatrist freshly graduated because of just how capable and intelligent he was. Occasionally drawing, raising crows, and working is what he does until he's 30 years old currently.

He even used the curiosity he expressed in understanding fear to fuel his want to create his iconic fear toxin, although that wasn't it original use. Jo had hoped that trials and clinical research could result in helping with anxiety related concerns, but was turned down based on his appearance and the idea seeming "scary." This worsens Jo's depression, and he contemplates ending his life. It's while staring at the noose he prepared that he changes his mind. If he's going to go down, it's not going to be without a fight. Thus he becomes Scarecrow and tests his fear toxin however and on whoever he pleases.

#dc #batman #batmanfruitloops #batman villains #batman rogues #gotham rogues #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #batmanfruitloopslore #anewgothamau #tw: abuse #tw: suicide #tw: death #tw: self harm #is religious trauma a tag? #sars babbles

[olsenmyolsen]

Lots of Love

master list

dark master list

Post AoU (WandaNat)

Word Count: 2.9K

TW: Mentions of Hydra, Ultron, Pietro Death

It has been four months since Pietro Maximoff was killed by Ultron.

In those months, no one had grieved more than his sister, Wanda Maximoff.

Between leaving the only home she'd ever known in the worst state it had ever been in—the culture shock of America. Testing, training, and above all else, trying to live free once again... it hasn't exactly been easy for the young woman.

Sure, the team, The Avengers, have tried to be there for Wanda. Steve acting as a mentor and trainer for her abilities. Sam there for a good laugh when he wasn't tracking down leads for Steve's missing friend. Clint becoming somewhat of an Uncle with trips to the farm to see little fat Nathaniel and is always there to help with any questions regarding her newfound home.

For instance, a few weeks after Clint got Wanda her first-ever phone, she was confused by words and phrases being thrown at her.

"Clint." Wanda, with her accent still heavy, approached the man who had an arm around his wife as the two sat in the living room watching some reality trash. Wanda secretly stayed up late and watched the night before. "Sam texted the chat and said, lol,what does this mean?"

"It means lots of love," Clint responded without a second thought, earning a slap on the arm from Laura. "Not it doesn't." "Yes, it does." He countered. "Wanda." Laura sat up. "It used to mean lots of love. But everyone uses it to mean laugh out loud nowadays."

While Laura's explanation correct. It confused the witch even more. She looked at her phone and back to Laura. "So when I wrote, Sam Clint mentioned he was going to work on the house today and show me how to tend the horses, but all he's done is sit on the couch for the last two hours. Is this normal? He thought I was joking?" Wanda states, deeply unaware of how insulting the text sounded to none other than Clint's one good ear.

However, Laura laughs hard as Wanda stands beside the couch with an awkward feeling around her.

Clint musters up the strength within him to let Wanda know that, yes, Sam thought she was joking and that maybe she doesn't have to be Avengers-level observant when on the farm.

"Anyways, Birdman clearly doesn't understand the amount of work I do, but he will during training on Monday." Clint winks at Wanda, who shrugs. "I guess." Wanda still a little lost answers, honestly.

"Here, why don't you come sit, and I'll get started on those chores." Clint has Wanda take his place while Laura gets ready to start lunch. "You okay, though, right?" The guy with the weapon choice of two strings and stick asks, earning a nod from Wanda.

Truth be told, Wanda was doing better today. She just kept getting lost in her thoughts. She was excited to be an Avenger. To help others. Fight for the greater good. Save people from a cold, abused life she had while with Hydra. But training was exhausting. Especially when her powers grew more and more each day, that just meant pushing herself further and further.

Sometimes it worked. Like when she could lift and move Steve several feet in the air.

But there were still setbacks. And those hurt Wanda. It made her feel small, like no one would trust her if she accidentally threw Vision just a little too hard into a stack of mats one more time.

Thankfully, Vision has an indestructible head.

But you see what I mean? These last four months haven't exactly been easy for the young woman.

"You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Laura asks as she enters the room again.

There was the last little kicker—the Black Widow.

Ever since the red jacket incident, the only women on the team haven't said, well.. anything to each other. But the two women knew why. Natasha intimidated the younger woman, while Wanda's powers frightened and angered Natasha.

Years of trauma and memories were pulled back to the front of Natasha's mind in a snap, and it destroyed her. Days after the fall of Sokovia. No one saw Natasha.

Days turned into two weeks before Steve was surprised to find her alone in the vast training room before sunrise. Knuckles and feet bloodied. However, she still didn't talk. And when she did, it was in Russian. Something the old man didn't know.

The only person on the team to know Russian. To be able to communicate with Natasha was playing host to the enemy from three weeks prior.

And then the witch was back in the compound. Everyone greeted her. Except one. Everyone showed her around. Except one. Everyone apologized and tried to make conversation about the rise and fall of Ultron. Except two. Tony and Natasha. But Stark is a story for a different day.

So those weeks turned into months, and Wanda and Natasha could be in the same room, but whenever the younger one opened her mouth, the older one would leave, not without a glare or longing stare of curiosity. Those became normal.

So when the question was asked. "You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Wanda started praying to everyone and anything that Natasha Romanoff wouldn't kill her.

_

Wanda and Clint step into the smaller gym reserved for Wanda's training. "Don't sweat it. I talked to her." Clint tried to reassure the enhanced individual, but what he says does the opposite. "Thanks, Clint." She manages to reply through a panic hidden beneath her smile. "Should I warm up-"

"You're late!" The booming voice of Natasha scares Wanda and Clint. "In the future, Clint, if I say I want Wanda here at 7, what time do you think I mean?" Clint rubs the back of his neck, realizing his fuck up. "6:30." Wanda gives Clint a crazy look as he hides his face. "So she's late," Natasha emphasizes. "You can go."

"But I thought I would..." His voice trails off as Natasha raises her eyebrow. She's in a mood already, and Clint doesn't want to end up on the inside of a punching bag. Again. "Good luck, kid. I'll see you later." Clint frantically leaves Wanda without any protection.

"Alright. Stretch. Let's go." Natasha doesn't give Wanda any time before she's already in the middle of the floor doing a pose Wanda has never seen before.

Wanda tried her best to follow suit, but she can't bend like Natasha can. Natasha knows this, too. For the last month since Natasha got the word she'd be training Maximoff, she started doing expert-level training poses three times a day. Even on the days when she was busy, she would find a way to excuse herself to train.

So, as Nat does her moves flawlessly, Wanda falters at every step. Making a smile crack onto the Russians' face. So the little witch needs more help than she thought. Excellent.

"Am I really going to be a pretzel when I'm doing stealth missions, or is this just to punish me?" Wanda complained 45 minutes after Clint left. "It's not called the pretzel." Natasha quickly warns, making Wanda roll her eyes. "Doing stretches like this will make you more nimble." Natasha stops doing her pose and lets out a big breath before standing up in front of Wanda, lying on her back.

"You know I can move things with my mind, right?"

Now Natasha rolls her eyes. "Using your powers won't mean anything if you can't fight or escape a situation using your body. Get up."

Wanda groans, completely tired at Natasha, who hasn't even broken a sweat. She knows I'm not a widow, right? I can't just do what she does? Wanda thinks to herself as she follows Natasha across the room.

However, Wanda goes from thinking about all the stupid poses she just did, to pretzels, to watching Natasha. She walks with pressure on the front of her feet. It makes her silent, Wanda realizes. Wanda's eyes move up Natasha's legs covered by fabric, but the toned muscle underneath can still be seen. The higher Wanda goes, the more her breathing picks up.

Natasha walks in front of Wanda, aware of the wandering eyes behind her. She can sense them from miles away if she wanted to. But here, right now, Natasha feels Wanda's eyes scanning down her back to her butt. Again.

Stop staring

Wanda lifts her face to see Natasha stopping and turning to face her with a smile. Those thoughts weren't Wanda's own. Were they Nat's?!

Green

Wanda goes to open her mouth, but Natasha stops her with a punch thrown to her hip. Not using ALL of her strength, but the Russian could've been kinder.

"Ow fuck!" Wanda screams, using her favorite American curse word. "What the hell?!" She lifts her eyes up to see Natasha with a smirk on her face in a fighting pose.

She's such a poser, Wanda thinks as the pain in her hip subsides.

"You need to be ready at all times. Observant always." Natasha takes a step towards Wanda, who puts up her hands. "So instead of staring at my ass, you could've been assessing threats!" Wanda's cheeks go red. She was caught. And those thoughts she heard were Nat's. Shit.

"Oh please, you're not the first person to ever look." Natasha snarks, dismissing Wanda's embarrassment. "Now, will you try to train or think about me some more? I can do both. Can you?" This makes Wanda want to fight. She doesn't like being called out for a mistake like this one. She didn't even mean to stare at her ass that second time! (She did.)

Plus, seeing Natasha saying this many words in this close proximity is throwing Wanda for a loop. If she didn't know any better, Wanda would think Natasha was being friendly.

"No powers. Remember." Wanda nods. "You should speak up when I talk to you, Maximoff." Wanda glares daggers that bounce off the redhead. "Yes. No powers."  Natasha smirks. This the first time she's been able to get under the skin of the person that sent her spiraling.

After circling each other once more, Wanda tries to make the first move. But Natasha was counting on it. When Wanda lunges forward, she fully extends her arm—mistake number one. Romanoff grabs Wanda's bicep and pulls her off balance before Nat sweeps Wanda's legs, causing the younger woman to fall face-first on the mat.

"Wow. Are you sure you've been training with Steve?" Natasha mocks with a smile. Whether it was her intention or not, Wanda is getting upset. But when her face, back, and ass land on the mat in succession, followed by mocks, Wanda thought she went from being upset to pissed.

It didn't help that every time the Widow got the upper hand on Wanda, she could hear Natasha's thoughts.

Red jacket

Sloppy

Should've grabbed here instead of here

"You're trying to fail."

Green eyes

She can't rely on her powers

"You're made of marble."

Like I said. Wanda thought she was pissed. So when she got up from the mat quicker than Natasha anticipated and charged, Natasha couldn't do anything but take the hit as the two fell to the mat again. Wanda quickly holding Natasha's hands above her head. "Finally!" Natasha exclaimed through the tiny amount of pain she felt. "It's about time you got that emo anger back."

She immediately made this a lesson that Wanda failed to see it was. Even though Wanda used all that she had without her powers, Natasha didn't flinch. 'Emo Anger.'

For the multi-hundredth time since entering the compound, Wanda was hurt. It was written on her face. Natasha could look up and see it but wasn't sure what to do. For the second time since the flight back from Sokovia, Natasha saw Wanda as something other than the opposition. She saw something else. But first...

She was about to see Wand cry.

That chipped away at the rough exterior Natasha had built up since they met. "Hey Wand-"

The tight grip Wanda had on Natasha's wrists melted away as the more petite woman started to cry. Her body sliding off of Natasha's, landing on her side. Natasha quickly and without thinking wraps her arms around Wanda, sending jolts of electricity through their bodies.

It was then Natasha realized that, yes, she was terrified of Wanda's power but not Wanda. For the last four months, Natasha had been observing Wanda. At first, it was a way to protect her team members from an outside threat, but it slowly and somehow became a crush that hadn't made itself known till this second.

As Natasha held Wanda close, the witch cried more. She was mentally tired and physically exhausted. She was sure Natasha hated her even more now, and all she wanted was her brother. She wanted to speak to him one last time. Tell him that he was loved. That her favorite shows weren't the same without his complaints. She wanted to see him.

But here she was, lying on the floor, crying into the arms of the Black Widow.

"Let it out, Wanda... It's okay.." Wanda, through her calming tears, heard the sweet murmuring of Natasha. And through more sniffles and confused thoughts, Wanda couldn't help but say: "Do you hate me?" Natasha peered over Wanda's face.

Green eyes

Pink lips

Wanda's sad-looking eyes opened wider at the sound of the other woman's thoughts. "I don't hate you, Wanda."

"But you did." Wanda counteracts. Natasha thinks as she moves a hand up and down the witches back. "I did. But that was misplaced. I'm sorry for that." Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her brain was still stuck on the thoughts from earlier.

Natasha is thinking about her.

Natasha doesn't hate her.

Natasha apologized.

Natasha.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha already looking at her. "Are you feeling better?" Natasha asked. "Yes. Thank you." Wanda answered, but neither one moved. Natasha kept her arms around Wanda. While Wanda kept her face near the crook of Nat's neck. "Cinnamon."

"What?" Natasha had a smile people would pay to see. Or would be killed if they saw it. "Your hair. It smells like cinnamon. The great Black Widow uses cinnamon-infused shampoo." Nat rolled her eyes but couldn't help but be happy in this moment. "Lavender." She replied. "That's what you use." Natasha looked down at the smiling teammate, who wiped her eyes free of any remaining evidence of tears.

She saw it—a smile on Wanda's face.

A smile that Natasha made happen.

Beautiful 

Wanda pushed her head into Natasha in an effort to hide the fact that she read her thoughts and to not let Nat see her blush.

"Natasha." Wanda's muffled voice hit the spy's ears. "Yes?" Wanda was nervous on what to say next. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. "Your thoughts... I can hear them. I promise I wasn't trying. They were just loud."

Silence.

When Wanda had the courage to poke her eye out of Natasha's neck, she saw her staring away. "I think we should end training. I'll let Steve know that-" "Wait, Natasha, I didn't mean-" Natasha tried her best to pull her arm out from under the witch, but the Black Widow trained Wanda. So, in one fell swoop. Wanda gripped Natasha's arm back and kicked her forward, so Natasha surprisingly was on her back once again.

In an instant, Wanda was on top of her.

"It's okay," Wanda spoke closer to Nat's face than ever before. "You're not who they made you to be." Natasha's eyes became sad, knowing that Wanda had seen the memories she made her relive months ago. "You're not made of marble, Natasha. You're made of so much more. I like you because of that."

"You like me?" Natasha's voice cracked. She was thankful no one else was around to hear that. "Well, I don't hate you. And you don't hate me." The woman on top spoke.

Slowly and carefully, Wanda began to lean into Natasha more. "Is this okay?" Wanda asked. Natasha nodded and brought her face up until their lips softly touched one another. A quick kiss turned into another and another until the nervousness was gone, and all that remained was the lust for more. "Natasha.." Wanda began to moan as Nat's roaming hands slid down Wanda's back.

Natasha smirked. An accent never made her name sound so good.

In the far corner of the gym, Clint was retracing his steps. It had been over an hour and a half, and no one had yet come out of the room. Alive or dead. So Clint took it upon himself to make sure everything was alright.

But once he saw his two teammates tangled with one another, he decided to exit and text his wife.

"I think I'm going to have to make some upgrades to the guest bedroom on the second floor."

"lol."

dividers by @/benkeibear

#wandanat #wanda crying #wanda maximoff #black widow #natahsa romanoff #scarletwidow #wanda #nat #clint #farm #ultorn #pietro maximoff #pietro death #training #fluff #fake msut #youll see #enhanced #gym #texting #olsenmyolsen #one shot #drabble #fanfic #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximommy #wanda marvel #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov

[wowbright]

National Clean Your Home Month Day 13

I woke up very grumpy and low energy this morning thanks to overheating because I'd put my normal amount of blankets on, anticipating that the outdoor temperature would drop to near freezing like it usually does, but instead it warmed up overnight to 50°F. While overheating, I had this weird dream about seeing Chris Colfer at a tour appearance with @spaceorphan18. It wasn't a book tour, it was him going around the country talking about how making Glee was the worst 3 years of his life. (Yes I know, but in the dream it was 3 years.) Also he still looked 23.

I had more coffee than usual, did a shorter swim than usual, and then managed to do maintenance chores and tick some things off my list.

- in addition to washing my swimsuit, I used the rest of the vinegar solution left over from yesterday for soaking a shirt that had deodorant stains. The shirt's not dry yet, but from the preliminary inspection, it looks like the soak worked!

- called the bank to deal with the credit card issue I discovered yesterday, they said they would fix it and I shouldn't be charged for late payment

- Ticked off a whole bunch of financial related chores from my list. Ugh. But they're done. And I listened to my iTunes on shuffle while I did it. Top sing-along moments were Barbra Streisand singing "Where Is It Written?", "Steven's Last Night In Town" from Ben Folds Five and "I Want A Monster To Be My Friend" from Sesame Street.

- folded towels that were washed yesterday while watching "American Commune," a documentary about The Farm commune. I was super excited to find this documentary yesterday since I've had my copy of The New Farm Vegetarian Cookbook since I was a teenager and have never stopped using it. Some kids who were raised on The Farm talked about how they ate soybeans constantly, and this will not surprise you if you have read the cookbook.

- made tofu and nutritional yeast "cheese" sauce for lunch and ate it with homemade crackers. I promise, I had actually planned that for lunch even before watching "American Commune", but having watched it, the lunch seemed especially appropriate.

- put away the towels

- took a picture of some of the wool dryer balls I've made in hopes that people on Tumblr will want some because this is really too much for one household:

They're made of clean wool straps from old wool socks, sweaters, etc. Let me know if you want a set! I can't guarantee particular colors, but you can let me know your preferences. We use three in our dryer. No charge for the balls and no charge for shipping in the US; if you want to pay something, I would gladly accept Tumblr rainbow checkmarks or other badges I don't have yet.

#naclyoho #chris colfer #glee dreams #american commune #the farm commune #the new farm vegetarian cookbook #gpoy

[mediumgayitalian]

I'm curious as to your thoughts on how Nico and Will manage chores?? you've mentioned that you hc Will as OCD, but I'm interested in how you think that would combine with the different aspects of adhd. plus, I can't imagine Nico had much experience with chores having been rly young in Italy, plus living at the lotus casino, plus being on the run for so long

YES okay so i answered a similar ask here but i'm going to reiterate it and also explain a little bit of my ocd headcanon.

when they move in together, how do you think they will split the chores?

they do not.

they are in an interesting situation: nico has never had to do chores in his life. as a kid, he was the son of Literal Hades and an aristocrat, he for sure had people doing that shit for him. in the lotus, they presumably had room service. he may have had to do a few chores at the military school, but a) they weren't there for long and b) as an older sister with a younger brother, bianca was doing that shit for him. she ordered him to make his bed, he did a horrible job, she huffed and did it herself because it's more of a pain in the ass to make your brother do it again than it is to do it yourself. bianca i get you. after that he was homeless, so there was obviously no cleaning there, and then he lived in his father's palace. he has never so much as done a load of laundry except maybe hastily with a public washroom sink and a bar of soap. he barely knows what a mop is.

will, on the other hand, has been in charge of both a cabin and a literal infirmary since he was 13 years old. on top of that, if i am not mistaken (i'm so sorry i still havent read toa and tsats im getting there i swear), he grew up on a farm. his ass knows how chores work, in fact i would bet money that he gets a little obsessive when it comes to cleaning. he is acutely aware of how many germs are on every single surface ever. he cleans and he does it a lot.

this could go really badly, because habit would indicate that will would be doing all of the housework and nico none, which is Bad For Relationships.

however:

nico really likes will.

will is a massive hypocrite who overworks himself. he also is a bit of a control freak.

nico is also very, very observant.

i think, in the beginning of their friendship, even, nico noticed that will, like bianca, would let the onus of cleaning and tidying fall to him because 'no one else does it right', and also, maybe, it's just easier not to fight people about it. i think this would bother him. i think he would, in his inability to, like, be normal, impulsively challenge will to a cleaning contest.

and. like. will is a competitive person, okay. maybe not about things he knows he can't win, but when he knows he's good at something? he is not letting that shit slide. look at how fast he was to dunk on octavian, how prickly he got when nico doubted his ability to outrun the romans. if nico, who will knows damn well has done like four chores in his life, tries to challenge will, mr. antiseptic is my closest friend solace, to a cleaning contest?

he is going to sweep the floor with him.

pun absolutely intended.

from there things kind of spiral. at first it's a dorky ass learning curve, because nico loses every cleaning competition so so badly and quit fucking laughing, solace, you dickead, the windows are not that streaked and also watch me spray you in the goddamn eyes, huh, how do you like that and it's just kind of...fun. for the first time in a long time cleaning up doesn't make will quietly bitter.

plus, as an added bonus, nico helping will clean up makes it less invisible when he does it. now people are starting to notice that, no, the infirmary does not magically clean and organise itself, someone does that. and maybe a few more people pitch in to help. and maybe will realises, and maybe he smiles gratefully at nico when, for the first time in years, he has two entire days off, back to back, in the summer, for the first time in years. and maybe nico thinks he is going to collapse into dust because gods will has a nice smile. not that he cares or notices or anything.

do they need to keep having competitive chores forever?

no.

but does it make both of them kind of shyly pleased and happy to remember how they started? to remember how much their friendship means to them, first and foremost, and not just their relationship?

yes.

(also, by the gods, nico is going to beat will at laundry one day. he is. as soon as he learns to fold without creasing the whole stupid shirt it's over.)

on ocd:

so i've technically been diagnosed with ocd. i'm not sure how much i believe it, because i have severe anxiety and in 2020 when i was 17 i had anxiety about being ocd so i called my psychiatrist and went 'hey i think i have ocd' and she said 'yah you do', which, well. i've read some testimony and biography of people with ocd and there's a lot of stuff i don't relate to. so i'm not rly comfortable calling myself ocd, but i do have a lot of obsessive behaviours that i am aware extend past generalised anxiety disorder.

but on the stuff i do relate to:

mostly i am Fine. but i am also Aware of the Germs Around Us. at all times. taking a safe food handling course was a Mistake.

however i am also aware that these germs are Unavoidable. and i work with children. i get covered in fluids a Lot. (have you ever held a tissue to a young child's nose and told them to blow, feeling the hot gush of mucus, because they are too young to blow their noses themself? i have. it is revolting. more revolting than being thrown up or shit on, frankly, although those are also Not Great.)

for the most point i employ the Very Clever strategy called: Just Don't Think About It.

i don't think about it.

don't think about the germs on your laptop. don't think about the germs on the seat you're sitting on. don't think about how many germs are built up on your hands and transferring onto your laptop from all the dirty doorhandles you touched to get into the building. don't think about all the airborne germs that you are breathing right now. don't think of how easily staph virus travels. don't think about the germs built up on your phone, dear god. don't think about the germs on your bracelets.

Germs Die. Hands Wash. Germs Die. Hands Wash. Germs Die. Hands Wash.

this is a regular thing i chant to myself.

i have to.

so i don't go Insane.

there are some things i won't do, though, regardless of whether or not germs die and hands wash. i won't wear outside clothes to bed or let them touch my bed. i won't touch door handles with my bare hands if i can avoid it. i won't fill up the gas in my car if i don't have hand sanitizer or lysol wipes handy (gas pumps are DISGUSTING). i won't eat without washing my hands before and after. won't use the bathroom without washing my hands before (we should all do that?? frankly?? why do we allow germs near a place that gets infected real fuckin easy??????). i won't put my toothbrush on the side of the sink (INSIDE A DRAWER WHERE IT'S SEALED OFF). i won't flush the toilet with the lid up (DO YOU WANT THOSE PARTICLES IN THE AIR MORE THAN THEY ARE). i won't use hand dryers in public bathrooms.

lots of stuff i will do too. i will turn the water off and SCRUB my hands for thirty seconds (MISSISSIPPI) before rinsing the soap off. i will wash my hands every couple hours at least but regularly if they feel dirty. i keep a mental note of what is Contaminated and what i have to wash after i touch. i keep a mental record of what i'm touching. i look into ways bacteria and germs spread so i can learn how to keep myself protected. i keep hand sanitizer on my at all times, as well as extra in my car.

etc etc.

i don't always have all this in the forefront of my mind at all times. in fact most of this is habit.

i do spiral though.

sometimes i become Hyperaware of what i'm touching and i feel rly rly unclean. the germs and grime build and build and i get nauseous. usually, this only happens when i think 'i need to wash my hands' and i Cant. i can handle it because i have been handling it my whole life but it makes me really irritable really quickly, and then panicky if it goes on too long.

other times i get really obsessed with preparation. i'll try really hard to Avoid germs, which is impossible, and when i can't i get panicky too.

it is also Really Embarrassing. i get screechy when i'm not expecting to be germy (like at work i'm fine, i know i'm gonna get gross at work, so it's Fine to get gross at work; but if my sister wipes something gross on my shirt to get a reaction out of me she is Going To Get A Reaction Out Of Me, and it is going to be me shrieking at the top of my lungs). so that's fun.

on will:

i do think will would be kinda similar to my experience?? so ocd-adjacent.

he is Hyper aware of germs for one. i imagine he struggles to turn it off. he knows how disgusting something is at any given time because it is really important for him to know if something is sterile.

as he gets older and is abilities get more defined, i think he has a period where he spirals a Lot.

in the infirmary, he knows where the germs are. they are his job to treat or add as necessary. it's no big deal if he has to deal with catheters or sweat or vomit or snot or whatever. that's part of the job.

but Outside of the infirmary???

what really peaked my interest was, amusingly, the shaking hands line: that whole birth thing Bothered him. it was outside the norm, outside of something he could prepare for, and sure, it's just regular horrifying but i feel like it might be Germ horrifying as well.

does he panic about accidentally infecting people?? i think that might make him spiral. he has to do surgery and shit -- if he's hyperaware of what is and isn't sterile, i imagine the situations under which he has to apply medical care would send him spiraling after they're over.

i think he has a lot of anxiety Build Up. i think he shoves it back to Do His Job and then he's supposed to have free time, supposed to chill, and he's rushing away every forty minutes to scrub his hands.

#those are my thoughts anyway #no idea how to tag this??? ill figure it out #will solace #will solace headcanon #ocd #ocd will solace #longpost #personal #ask

[cafecourage]

Pinky Isn't Suffering - Chapter 9

ALMOST DONE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say that you were able to have lunch with your future self and his wife was not in fact what Twilight was expecting from this adventure. Really anything in the adventure was not something he was expecting.

Yet here he was, red faced as an Older Pinky coo’s over how cute he is. He hoped Pinky was ok. This was very overwhelming. At least it would have been, if his brain could work. 

“Is everything ok dear?” She asked, fully aware of what she was doing to him.

“Yes, perfectly ok.” Twilight was more or less attempting to convince himself of it. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Older PInky giggles and takes a bite of the snacks she’s prepared. “I understand, if it gives you any peace of mind. You didn’t push me to choose between my family and you.” She puts down the tea cup. “In fact, we have a way to get between the era’s and the worlds.”

“What?” Twilight lets that sink in. “What do you mean?”

Pinky looked surprised that he even asked, then took a moment to think about it. “Well, I’m not sure how. But apparently Sky got all of us… hand mirrors? That open a gateway to where you want to go.” She look outside to the farm she built up with her husband. “I’m happy that I get to be here and not be away from my family.”

Twilight visibility relaxes; it's been the one of the things that's been in his mind for a while. It was the main reason he hasn’t said anything to Pinky about his feelings even though she knew about them. He is aware that she feels the same. The proof also being right in front of him.

Older Pinky seems to know what exactly he was thinking, “you worry too much, my dear.” She said, leaning back in her chair. Pinky looks outside “I didn’t think I would be up for ranch life.” She looks back at him with a smile “But I love it here and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Twilight looks down at his tea as he repeats what he said before. “Do the kids know?”

“Of my world? Yes, but they know not to say much about it.”

Speaking of the kids, the daughter and son barrel in.

“Mom! Mom! We finish our chores!” Jr. grinned grabbing on his mom’s skirt. Both him and Melody were covered in grass stains, dirt and cooco feathers.

Their mother smiles and ruffles their hair. “Good work today! Go washed up before eating lunch.” She said despite knowing they will just get dirty all over again.

“Race ya!” Melody dashed away, leaving Jr. gasping as he wasn’t ready for a race.

“Hey! No running in the house Mel!” Jr. said, also running in the house.

Older Pinky sighed and shook her head as her husband and Twilight’s Pinky came back. “What did we miss?”

“A race to the washroom.” Standing up, Older Pinky ushers the two to sit down. “Melody got a head start.”

“Is it just me or the more the Kids hang out with a certain Sailor the more rambunctious they get?” Older Twilight took his seat again next to his wife while Pinky went to her own Twilight. 

The rest of the time spent in the future was the two time travelers getting caught up on what the others have been up to and what part of the adventure they were on. It was all strangely familiar and nice, for people that technically had just met, the conversation flowed better then how it started out as. 

Soon as the sun began to set, Older Pink looked up at the clock, “you two should be sent back soon.” She said pretty disappointed.

“Geez, when did the time go?” Older Twilight said not believing it but he got up, “I’ll walk you two to the forest.”

“You both will go back to the moment you left your era.” Older Pinky adds on since that's pretty important info just so they don’t feel insane about it.

“Thank you for everything.” Pinky says as she and Twilight follow their motions getting up from the table. Pinky couldn’t help but take one more look around the small cozy house. There's a part of her heart that has already fallen in love with this family. Twilight, feeling that same warm and cuddly feeling, sneaks a hand on her lower back as he leads Pinky out with his older self.

Older Twilight gives his wife a kiss before leaving, “I’ll be back.”

“Be safe you three!” She calls out as they head out back into the forest.

It was the same path as the trio took before. Twilight was studying the area as best he could since he probably should remember it for later. “Don’t worry about remembering. I found you guys completely by accident.”

“Oh that sounds like fun.” Pinky was being sarcastic. “It would still be a good idea to remember this location.”

Older Twilight hums. “I mean it would be ok. It’s in the same place Hateno will be if my assumptions are correct.” That was some interesting information to just drop. Twilight had to hold his tongue as he knows that this is himself and anything, he knew he could can fire something back. “But just keep walking here and it will transfer you back to the surface.”

“Thank you Twilight, for everything.” Pinky smiles up at him. 

Older Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “It’s no problem Darlin’ I just hope the both of you make it.” He says like he doesn’t already know how it will end up. He helps turn those two around and pushes them back towards the past. “Be safe!”

Twilight takes Pinky’s hand and waves goodbye to his older self. 

Slowly, they made their way through the forest, things shifted and twist around them as they got back in time. Soon enough, they came to the makeshift gates of the surface settlement. Both Pinky and Twilight stood there for a second. Twilight looked at Pinky in the evening light. It somehow made her look prettier than normal. She looks up at him wide eyed, still processing everything.

The question was now… “What are we?”

#twilight (not lu) speaks #strawberry milk #LuxOc #Linked Universe x oc