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sl-newsie · 3 months

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Teach Me To Love Hate You (Race x Fem Jet OC, enemies to lovers)

Here I am to request again! (*insert evil laugh*) So Race is doing so bad in school that he has to get a tutor. The problem is he gets stuck with this posh Jet girl and they absolutely hate each other. Tutoring is a mess. But one night when Race goes out to play cards against the Jets he’s playing against her, but she’s all dressed up! Turns out she’s a card shark, and wins by flirting with her opponent to get in their head. Her strategy works, and by the end of the night they're practically dating.

Davey’s POV

“Another F, Mr. Higgins.”

Our math teacher, Mr. Johnson, hands the man sitting in front of me his test. No surprise that Race failed considering he spends all his time goofing off. I’ll admit since I’ve met Jack and his gang I myself have relaxed a bit but not too much to have my perfect grades drop.

“Very impressive, Mr. Jacobs.”

I’m handed my own test, which I passed with flying colors. The bell rings and signals for us to head home.

“Go ahead, Davey,” Race groans. “Rub your perfect score in my face. I hate school!”

I gather my things and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I know book smarts aren’t your thing. Um, have you maybe considered being tutored?”

Race huffs and pulls out his cigar to stick in his mouth. “No way! I’ll keep my own perfect score of failing before I team up with one-a those bookworms-”

“Well that’s too bad, Mr. Higgins.” Mr Johnson approaches us. “Your failing grades have led the school to force me to assign you a tutor. You are to stay after school every weekday until 5. You will continue this until your grades improve.” The teacher gestures to the door. “Your tutor is waiting for you in room 215.”

I can’t believe it. Neither can Race.

“Are you serious? God, outta all things…”

The flustered student gets up and struts out of the room, causing me to rush after him.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? It’s only-”

“Dave, of course it’s gonna be bad! I’ll barely miss the card tournaments at 6!” We reach the end of the hall where room 215 is. “I’m gonna be locked up with some ugly stiff trying to teach the unteachable-!”

“You must be Anthony Higgins,” a woman’s voice speaks as the classroom door opens.

Race rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!”

Amanda’s POV

This is what I get? This is what I get for keeping good grades? Being forced to tutor someone? Mrs. Smith informed me this morning that I’ve been assigned to tutor someone all because I’m one of the top students. I don’t even go to Manhattan High! I’m only here for the math class! Sadly West Side High doesn’t have any higher up math classes, so I have to commute to ‘Hattan.

I take a deep breath as I wait in the empty classroom. Just get through it one day at a time. The sooner you help him improve the sooner this headache will be over. The sound of approaching chatter alerts me to the door. Putting on a perky face, I walk over and open it. Outside I recognize Davey from math club, and the other must be the student I’m supposed to meet.

“You must be Anthony Higgins.”

The man in question rolls his eyes and turns to me. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!” His jaw drops and I swear he’s having a stroke.

Davey waves a hand in front of him. “Um, Race? You ok?”

The blonde boy nods slowly, still gaping at me. I feel my patience slipping. Ugh. I am not staying after school to be ogled!

I grip the man’s shirt and drag him inside. “Thanks for dropping him off, David. I’ve got my work cut out. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Amanda!” The kind Jacobs man waves and shuts the door.

Race is still quiet. I steer him to a chair and push him down to sit. “Listen up, Higgins. We both don’t wanna be here. So let me make this perfectly clear: pay attention and smarten up!”

Higgins shakes himself awake and gets a lopsided grin. “Well hello, doll. Y’know friends call me Race-”

“I’m not your friend. I’m your tutor.”

My firm tone turns Race’s grin to a scowl. “Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ve met you. I’dve remembered your lovely attitude.”

I stiffly take out some worksheets and slap them on the desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Higgins. I’m from West Side High.”

He snickers. “Ah, one-a Lorton’s gals. That’s where the attitude comes from!”

I roll my eyes. “Riff’s just a good friend. That also means that you shouldn’t try anything, understand? Just do these worksheets and we can be done for today. My whole life doesn’t revolve around school, and unlike you I actually have plans that don’t involve goofing off.”

“Well,” Race says cockily. “Since neither of us wanna suffer through this, whaddya say you lets me go early?”

That little-! That’s it. No more playing nice. I stiffly walk over to the door and lock it. It’s against school policy but I don’t care at this point. This cheeky moron is not gonna pin me for some softie!

“Hey! Why’d you-?”

I steer Race back into his seat with a firm hold. “Worksheets. Now! Before I really give you something to stress over!”

He’s shaken but still tries to keep confident. “Like what? The heartthrob you’s give’n me?”

“Like a black eye, dumbass! Now get to work!”

Race’s POV

God must have a sense-a humor ‘cause that tutor session felt like it took fifty years! It don’t help that my tutor is a stuck-up goody-goody. Jeez, for a moment I thought she was cute. I didn’t even get her name.

“Ey, Racer. Ya with us?” Jack asks.

“Um- Yeah. Just think’n,” I mudda as we enter the Jets’ hideout.

“You? Thinking?” Albert laughs. “Never thought I’d see the day! What’s got you so worked up?”

“He has to be tutored now,” Davey explains from behind.

I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks Davey! Why not announce my failure to the whole woild, why dontcha?”

“Don’t feel too bad, Race,” Crutchy tries to comfort me. “It took me a while to understand math too.”

“What I don’t get is how are ya so bad at math when ya count cards like a madman?” Spot grunts. “You’s bedda not get us kicked out.”

This week’s card tournament is be’n held in the West Side. I ain’t too noivous ‘cause Riff’s always too busy boast’n ‘bout his new construction job to play the game. That and Baby John’s poker face ain’t worth dirt. I can see through him like glass. So far the turn up looks pretty bland. Maybe folks is get’n tired-a losing? Where’s the competition?

“Evening gents,” Riff greets us as we gather ‘round the table. “We’s just wait’n on a few more players, then we’ll start.”

“Is Bernardo coming?” Davey asks.

The Jet leader smirks. “Wouldn't you wanna know, Mouth? Expecting Liliana to show?”

David blushes and looks away. Sure, he gets a pretty goil tonight. Of all people I expected Davey Jacobs to be the last guy to find a date.

“What about Mouthpiece?” I ask. “Can’t a guy see his own brodda?”

Riff shakes his head. “Bernardo called to say he can’t make it either. Only Baby John and Amanda are left to show.”

“Besides, one Higgins is enough to handle,” Jack groans. “We don’t need the matching pair.”

I’d hoid of Baby John before but the odda name ain’t familiar. With my luck it’ll be some ditzy dame who don’t know a spade from a shovel-

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

Amanda’s POV

“Are you kidding me?” I gape as I peer through the window.

“What’s wrong?” Baby John asks from behind.

“Race is here, that’s what! That ding-dong plays cards here?”

“Actually he ain’t no ding-dong,” Baby John points out. “Race is one-a the best players in New York.”

I snort. “If he’s so smart, why do I gotta be forced to teach him basic algebra?” Perhaps that’s a question no one can answer. “Don’t matter. He’ll bend either way.”

“Gonna lay on the shark charm?” John questions with an arched brow.

“Ya bet.” I don’t always play by the rules. My secret is that after school I play tournaments as a card shark by flirting with players. Some frown at it but I’m proud of my acting skills. Plus any little money I can make goes towards helping my parents.

Baby John goes ahead and sits next to Riff at the table while I stand behind Race.

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

The man’s head jerks up and he spins around to look at me with surprised eyes. It’s as if he can’t decide that I’m real. He looks between me and Riff with a stunned expression.

“Amanda, I see you know Race,” the Jet assumes.

My lips press into a firm line. “Yeah. Through tutoring. Now since we’s not at school can we actually have fun and play some cards?”

The oddas just shrug and begin to assemble the deck, while Race looks at me like he just won the lottery.

“Amanda, is it? Golly, I’ve never pinned you for a card gal!”

“There’s many things you’d be surprised by,” I say in a sultry voice. My suave charm automatically draws Race in and I see him starting to lose his senses.

“Th- That’s some getup you’ve got on, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

His compliment is refreshing. Usually guys just eat my appearance right up with no thought-a be’n nice. Tonight’s outfit is a polka dot cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline paired with simple red heels. I may be a card shark but I still got my dignity.

“Thank you,” I say whole-heartedly, but then regain my attitude. “I was starting to think ya couldn’t use that mouth for anything odda than back-sassing. Ready to lose?”

Race stares for a second then turns back to start gathering his delt hand. I decide to sit next to him for a better shot of distracting him. If I can get the oh-so-great Racetrack Higgins to falter at cards then I’ll have really set a record. Tonight’s game is Hearts and fortunately my hand is halfway decent. Lotta high cards plus the queen-a spades. Just enough to turn the tables and give everyone 26 points.

“You’ve been taking a lotta hearts,” Race says after a while, then says in a lower tone: “Wanna bet that you’d steal mine as well?”

Ha! He’s trying to play a card shark at her own game! This is too funny.

I pull on my best flirting smile and bat my eyelashes. “You tell me, handsome.”

That did it. Race’s face goes beet red and he goes back to staring at his cards. A few more hands go by and I continue to keep the lead. Luckily the oddas are too consumed by conversation to notice, all except Race. But for good measure to keep him distracted I slide my leg over to brush against his. This gets him shaking and all but hot and bothered. It’s working, but then why does a part-a me feel guilty? It ain’t a question that Race is a jerk sometimes but he’s still kinda handsome- No. I have a job to do. There's no holding back.

“Last hand. Who’s got the queen?” Davey asks as we all turn in our final card.

My smirk outshines all their oblivious faces. “I do!”

Jack chuckles. “You lose, Amanda.”

“Actually…” I fan out all the hearts I’ve collected. “I win!”

Everyone takes a double-take and groans. Another victory!

“Alright, you know the rules,” Riff grunts. “Pay up.”

The guys grudgingly take out their contribution and toss it onto the table. Maybe now I can afford to buy mom some good kitchen knives.

“Good job, Amanda.” Leave it to Crutchy to be the pro at sportsmanship. “You’re almost better than Race!”

“He’s right,” Spot agrees. “Hear that, Higgins? Ya got competition!”

The man in question has a stern look on his face. Instead-a answering he abruptly gets up and sulks down the hall to the bathroom. Sore loser. Can’t he take one defeat without holding a grudge?

“We’s gonna head back,” Jack calls. “Send Race over once he’s done.”

The ‘Hattan fellas make their way out, leaving me with Spot ‘nd the Jets. Soon enough they too walk out and leave me alone to count up my winnings. After a few moments I hear footsteps and turn to see Race fuming with what looks like anger.

“You got spunk, sweetheart,” he remarks slyly. “Not many dames can get into my head the way you do.” All of a sudden he struts forward and leans me back to lay against the table. “Almost makes me wanna soak ya for that, but then that’d be wasting that pretty face-a yours.”

How is he so strong? Also why are his eyes suddenly quite catching-? Ugh! Get a grip, Amanda! Just take the money and go.

“You’re lucky Riff ain’t here right now,” I growl. “Oddawise you’d be talking through a mouth with no teeth for saying that.”

Race scoffs. “You batted your eyes at me, sweetheart. What’s your angle?”

“It’s part of the game! Jeez Higgins, you’re so used to card tournaments I thought you’d already know what a card shark is!”

“So instead of being one-a Bernardo’s sharks, you’re an actual shark?” Race dramatically clutches his chest. “That hurts. That hurts deep, sweetheart.”

I hiss in frustration. “Stop calling me that!”

“Why? ‘Cause every odda bum ya flirt with calls you that? Just how many guys have ya swindled to give you cash?”

In a fleeting moment of anger I slap Race across the face. “I ain’t your usual lady of the night, Higgins! For your information, every cent I earn through card games goes to my folks! Unlike you I use my skills to help people instead of boasting ‘bout it like a spoiled brat!”

Race blanks for a second but is still angry. “Boasting? I ain’t the one boasting, sweetheart. I’ll admit my skills is good but it’s Jack ‘nd the oddas that boast ‘bout it!”

“Then why do you suck at math?” I jab.

“Maybe it’s the same reason why a clean-cut goil like you is a card shark,” Race replies. “I gots bedda things to do.”

“That don’t mean ya should throw your education in the trash!” I argue.

“I ain’t as smart as you, sweetheart. I know when to admit I’m no good.”

Race suddenly gets a saddened look and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad. It ain’t his fault he’s not book smart but that don’t mean he’s useless.

“You still don’t get it, Higgins. Life’s more than just academics. But you still gotta put up with the tough stuff.” I loosen up a little and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to cooperate, I could still tutor ya.”

Race laughs. “Ha! That’s a good one, sweetheart. Going soft on me?”

That son of a-! “Alright, fine! Go and fail math for all I care!” I lean forward and shove him against the wall. “To think I actually felt sorry for you, you snarky, hot, cocky-!”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Race’s face lights up. “Lay that on me again?”

“I was an idiot to think you’re a decent human being-! Ah!”

The blue-eyed man tilts over and plants a kiss on my lips. In my shocked state I don’t know whether to pound him or kiss him back. The gesture melts away my anger in pure ecstasy. God, what’s this guy doing to me?!

“You think I’m hot, sweetheart?” Race gets a cheeky smile. “Can’t say I ain’t flattered. You’s a scrumptious catch too.”

My face twitches as I try to form a rebuttal. “I- I… I-!”

“Well, whaddya know! I got the card shark speechless!” Race softly places his own hand on my shoulder. “I say we’d make a great pair, hm? Before we kill each odda, whaddya say to a milkshake at Doc’s?”

He’s got me hook, line, and sinker. As a card shark I’m not supposed to fall for anyone I play- where did I go wrong? Race is a pain! Yet still kinda cute… Ugh! Why does luv gotta be so complicated?!

“I- I ain’t good with luv, Race,” I mutter. “The only hearts I’ve been dealt with are cards. I ain’t a normal date.”

No matter how hard I wanna look away, Race’s eyes still capture me in a helpless trance. I’ve been disassembled from a cunning card shark into a pathetic mess. All I can do is stare as the man runs a hand softly across my cheek and looks down at me with kind eyes; a completely opposite demeanor than 10 minutes ago.

“I don’t want a normal date, Amanda. A normal date picks at my habits and says I gots a gambling problem.” Race bumps his nose on mine. “You wouldn’t say that, wouldya?”

My breath hitches. “No, you- you’re amazing at cards. Anybody who says oddawise is a joker.”

Now Race’s face is mere inches from mine. “Still up for a date?”

A sassy grin spreads on my lips. “Think ya can handle me, Higgins? I am still your tutor, after all.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just lemme kiss you, ya mouthy tutor.”

And I do. Over and over and over, Race kisses up and down. All talk-a math and school drips away and I give in to this new-found feeling.

“Never thought I’d fall for a bookworm,” Race mumbles between kisses.

I lightly smack his shoulder. “Remember this ‘bookworm’ just schooled you in Hearts, Higgins. You lost, remember?”

Race chuckles. “Yeah. Lost my own heart to you too, sweetheart.”

Tonight really was a successful game after all.

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theliteraryluggage · 9 months

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I think your ed cosplay pictures are really great!!!

I've been to anime con events before, but i didn't have the confidence to cosplay. But i wanna try it, nothing big at first just with clothes i already have. So uh do you have any advice for a beginner cosplayer?:)

Oh, oh that is so sweet, thank you! I feel flattered that you would approach me about this! I'm not a super experienced cosplayer myself, but I'm gonna do my best to give you some pointers.

Start small--it seems you already got that one lined up! That's exactly how I started too, just using clothes from my closet and maybe a bought item here or there to make the character more recognisable. It's a good strategy because a) you get to try it out and see if you enjoy cosplaying before you put huge amounts of money into it and b) these are your clothes so chances are you already feel comfortable in them and they are familiar, might help you feel more at home.

Now this one is probably a bit dependent on each person's temperament but in the selection of your first cosplays, you can go one of two routes: either you start with a character that is already kind of similar to you/who wears fairly innocuous, everyday clothing. That might help you ease into it, might help make you feel less nervous outside on your way to the con or on public transport, because it'll draw less attention from passersby. It also gives you a slow transition into the habit of cosplaying: you'll see that people's reactions are positive and maybe it's not that scary after all, and then you can gradually go for more elaborate/attention-grabbing cosplays. This is the route I've personally taken bc I also struggled with anxiety and nerves when I first started. The second way is the complete opposite: choose a character that is very different from you/is more attention-grabbing and dive right in--wearing a character and sort of getting into their mindset can really help boost your confidence and create a firm divide between cosplay and non-cosplay that might allow you to leave behind your nerves along with your everyday clothes. That’s something I’m definitely noticing since I started cosplaying Ed—I feel so much more confident as him, I joke around more, even with strangers which I usually would never do. It’s a bit like wearing an armour (ironically), protecting you and letting less anxiety and self-doubt seep through. (This method of course is a bit restricted by point one, but you can still go for a very different style and presence without buying or making a whole elaborate fantastic cosplay)

A more practical thing: I would recommend doing cosplays where you can use your natural hair for the first few times. Wigs can be expensive, they’re a hassle, especially long ones, they take a lot of time and effort to style and maintain, they aren’t super comfortable and when you’re wearing one you’ll be constantly aware of it at first, worried about messing it up (that’s what it was like for me anyway). That’s something I would only tackle once you’ve gathered a bit of experience.

This might be obvious, but it’s one I feel strongly about: Choose a character you love. If you are passionate about the character you’re wearing, if you’re enthusiastic about the source material, that love will show when you’re cosplaying, and people will take notice. Because aren’t we doing this whole thing for the love of the characters in the end? Don't be pressured by fandom trends or what's popular right now. You want to cosplay from an obscure 90's anime that only a few people know anymore? Do it!!! The people who do know it and recognise it will be so excited.

Lastly: Always remember that cosplay is supposed to be fun! I know it’s gotten to be really intense in the last few years, with competitions everywhere and cosplayers outdoing each other with bigger, more expensive, more elaborate, more accurate, more cosplays, but unless you’re aiming to become a big-time cosplay influencer, I wouldn’t worry about that. You don’t need to have a new cosplay for each con. You don’t have to get every detail right. You don’t have to pull all nighters and exhaust yourself to finish a cosplay just because people say con crunch is a part of the “real” cosplayer experience. Just enjoy yourself, and if there’s a part of the cosplay experience you’re not enjoying, drop it. You hate wearing wigs? Then don’t. You can’t wear contacts? Leave them. Just wear your glasses if you need them. Your con experience won’t be fun if you can’t see a thing the entire time. You can’t sew and don’t have the resources to learn? Unless you’re aiming to take part in cosplay contests, bought cosplays aren’t worth any less. (Even then there are starting to be cosplay contests these days that are more about character portrayal where you can enter with bought cosplays as well). There are no hard and fast rules. There’s no wrong way to cosplay. Have fun!

There, I hope this helped you a little bit! These are all just things I can draw from my own experience of course, as someone who’s been around cons and fandom for a long time but only really started cosplaying fairly recently (2019). I’m sure other people would give you other advice, but these are the points I think are helpful.

If there are any specific questions you still have, feel free to ask and I’ll do my best to answer them. I hope your first cosplay experiences will be fantastic! 💕

#ask #anonymous #cosplay #cosplay advice #nihi does cosplay

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eyndr-stories · 2 years

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Chester and the Jesters (FNAF SB fanfic) C5 - A friendly game of minigolf

In Summary:

The new tech sure does seem a little strange. Chester (at least, that's what their name tag says) doesn't seem as concerned as they should be about the high turnover rate here at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, or the numerous rumors about what happens to people who take the night shift. And to make matters worse, there seems to be some kind of criminal on the loose! The cops say they think the criminal is hiding out in the woods somewhere near the pizza-plex. Stress is high at the plex these days, but Chester is stoic as ever. Say, come to think of it, no one can seem to remember where Chester's application went or who they interviewed with. Their employee file is misplaced or missing just like everything else in this place. But the new tech does a good job completing their tasks, and has their own badge and everything, so of course they must belong here. It's not like someone would sneak into the plex and go this far out of their way to impersonate a low level technician. Right??

Things To Know (always read responsibly!):

Biggest warnings are for blood, death, knives, murder, the police, violence, also the OC is at one point hit by lightning. All fun stuff

About 70,000 words in total, 9 chapters, so roughly like. 7,500 words per chapter

This is an OC story, not a reader insert or a self insert! But if you want to imagine otherwise be my guest lol

Angst, fluff

OC x Sun & Moon, there's romance but zero spice

Occasional swearing

Heavy focus on Sun and Moon but most of the rest of the gang is there too :)

Afton doesn't exist, sorry peepaw, Vanessa is here but she's very chill. She's a kickass gamer girl lmao

Moon does an attempted murder but its fine. He's just a lil guy ok

OC uses they/them and also sign language most of the time

Impersonation, lying. There's also manipulation. Yall I wasn't kidding about the angst

There's also a lot of focus on how they're all robots, very cool robots with feelings lol

That's all I can think of, as always please lmk if I should add anything!

Ao3 Link: Right here!

Start reading here: Chapter 1

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

C5 - A friendly game of minigolf

Luckily for Chester, Vanessa was far too occupied ranting to them about videogame speed-run strategies to notice how slowly they were working or how intently they watched her work. Chester might be slow, but they were struggling a lot less with their tasks than they had been. Things like wiring and running diagnostics were starting to make sense, and when things didn't make sense, they could usually puzzle out a solution given enough time.

Vanessa and Chester had just finished replacing a broken coin slot on one of the arcade cabinets (talking about the games in the arcade had quickly steered into favorite video games, of which Vanessa had quite a few) when they decided it was time for a break.

"You'd think with how much of it there is around here I'd hate pizza by now, but I still crave it almost as much as Chica," Vanessa said. "You wanna go in on a pie with me?"

"Sure, that sounds good." Chester called the elevator. They looked back at the arcade as they waited, watching a group of kids going absolutely feral on the arcade's connecting dance floor. The DJ, an enormous animatronic perched atop a stage, waved at Chester and Vanessa as they left the arcade. They both waved back.

"The DJ is a really nice guy. Have you talked to him yet?" Vanessa asked. She pushed the button for the main floor, and the elevator made its decent towards the food court, energetic pop music coming in through an overhead speaker.

"I haven't. I thought he couldn't talk? He doesn't have a voice box, just music files and speakers." Chester recalled DJMM's extensive diagrams.

"He uses sign language, like you." Vanessa made the sign for 'sign language', moving her pointer fingers in opposing circles. "Between the two of you, I'm getting lots of practice!"

Chester smiled at that. The elevator doors opened, and the two made quick work of acquiring lunch. The glamrocks were putting on a show for the lunchtime crowd. Chester and Vanessa passed a gaggle of kids loudly singing along on their hasty retreat from the commotion.

The breakroom was blissfully quiet compared to the rest of the building. Chester's headaches were getting less frequent, but they still relished the reprieve from the cacophony of noise.

The two sat at Chester's usual corner table. There were only two other employees in the break room, neither of them people Chester recognized. Chester happily dug into their cheap and extra cheesy mall food quality pizza with Vanessa.

"Have those cops outside asked you any questions yet? They're sooo annoying. They nearly made me late for my shift this morning." Vanessa rolled her eyes.

"I guess I've gotten lucky," Chester signed slowly, staring at their slice of pizza.

Vanessa went on. "They apparently wanted to search the building, but they can't get a warrant. I asked a few questions myself, though. Get this- they haven't given up on the steak-out yet because the criminal they're after is wanted for murder. They lost the crook somewhere in the woods behind the plex, so they think the crook is hiding out there somewhere. Like, hiding in a tree fort or in a cave with some bears. One of my friends is super bummed cause they've got all the hiking trails closed off. But isn't that crazy?? There might be a murderer out there, right behind where we work." Vanessa wiggled her fingers at Chester. "Ooooh spooky!"

Chester swallowed uncomfortably, nearly choking on their pizza. "Yeah. Crazy." They set the slice down, suddenly loosing their appetite. "Do the ghosts have any gossip to report?"

Vanessa eagerly accepted the topic change, much to Chester's relief. "They do!! From what I hear, Lance got a boyfriend! He came to pick Lance up one night at the end of his shift. I'm told there was a very sweet kiss upon a cheek."

"Good for him," Chester signed. "I think mister Baxter is a decent guy, if he's found someone then I'm glad for him."

Vanessa nodded her agreement. "I wish I could find a special lady. I've been told I come on kinda strong." She sighed and picked at a burnt piece of pizza crust for a moment. "How about you? Got anyone special in your life?"

Chester shook their head. "Besides the difficulties of finding someone who's actually alright with me being ace, I'm far too busy these days. I don't exactly get out much."

"Oh yeah, I couldn't imagine working the night shift all the time like you do, and picking up extra day shifts on top of that! But hey, if you ever feel up to it, maybe sometime we can wingman each other? Hit the town, have some fun at the very least?" Vanessa's eyebrows bounced enticingly as she poked Chester's shoulder.

"That does sound like fun…" Genuinely, Chester would have loved to hang out with Vanessa outside of work. It had been so long since they'd done that sort of thing. It'd been a long time since they'd had a friend. But… this wasn't real. Even if they could leave the plex, Chester wasn't at all who they were pretending to be. Vanessa didn't even know their real name. "I'm sorry, like I said I'm just really busy these days."

"That's alright. If you ever need a break, offer still stands." Vanessa smiled.

Chester and Vanessa went their separate ways once their break was over. Chester didn't have long to mull over the lonely sort of despair they'd brought upon themself before they ran into Rosa.

"Hey, there you are. You done with your break?" Rosa asked. She shifted a thermos from one hand to another so she could pull out her faz-phone. "I need you to take a task for me. Its animatronic repair, but it's a simple one, shouldn't be too much trouble. Lance is off today so I'm covering a few of his duties."

Chester couldn't come up with a good enough excuse to turn the task down. They'd managed to get by so far by cherry picking tasks they could manage, tasks that weren't as horribly consequential as repairing one of the animatronics. If they messed up something like that�� Not only would they be at risk of someone figuring out they didn't actually belong here, but there was a chance they'd hurt the bot in question.

"Thanks a million, Chester. You're a life saver. Keep up the good work, kid." Rosa pat Chester's shoulder and took a long swig from her thermos as she carried on past them.

Chester looked down at their phone. They had a new high priority task. With no small amount of dread, Chester dragged their feet down to the access tunnels, making their way to parts and service. They struggled to remember everything they'd read about the animatronics, everything they'd studied and learned about wiring and welding.

Despite their attempts to prolong their arrival at parts and service, Chester found that they'd arrived all too soon. They could have sworn they'd intentionally taken the long way around, but they never could get the hang of these hallways.

The star of the whole plex, the bear mascot himself stood waiting for Chester by the enormous cylindrical machine at the room's center. Just their luck. Freddy Fazbear gave Chester a little wave as they entered the room. Chester noted his other arm hung a little awkwardly at his side.

"Hello… I take it Miss Garcia could not make it?" Freddy asked.

"She says she's covering some things for mister Baxter," Chester explained. They pulled up the task details. Rosa's descriptions were extremely brief, compared to Lance's long winded explanations. "Your right elbow joint seems to have been damaged?"

"That is right. I took a step too close to Chica during our last performance, and… well, Chica gets really into her guitar playing at times," Freddy explained.

"I see." Chester eyed the cylindrical machine. They approached the computer hooked up to it, powering it on and squinting at the complicated command menu. They quickly scanned through the options, finding only a few they understood. One of the commands was 'Run Diagnostic Scan'. Chester selected this. A prompt came up asking for Chester's technician code. They'd memorized their code by now, and plugged it in. Another prompt came up, alerting Chester that there was no animatronic to scan. They looked up at Freddy. "Would you mind stepping inside the cylinder?"

"Of course, superstar." Freddy made his way into the cylinder, walking slowly. He had to duck a little to be sure he didn't bonk his top hat on the top of the doorway. He eyed the cold metal table and the dangling machinery above. "Do you want me to… Do I have to be on the table for this repair?"

Chester paused. They had no idea if it was protocol or something to have the animatronic strapped to the table for repairs. But if Freddy had asked, maybe it wasn't? The scan seemed to be running just fine regardless. Chester eyed the table. They noted Freddy was eying the table as well, his metal brows pinched together in worry.

"No, we should be fine," Chester signed.

"Ah, good." Freddy's expression relaxed. "I find the table rather uncomfortable."

Chester could imagine, though they wondered how an animatronic would even mind the hard surface. The bots had pressure sensors, and proximity sensors, but no way to tell the difference between textures.

When the scan finished, Chester's faz-phone lit up with a very short list of replacement parts, and where to find them. Lucky for them, the joint and socket they needed were here in the room, on one of the shelves. Chester picked these up, comparing barcodes on the shelves to the codes on their phone. Thankfully, the plastic bin of spare joins seemed to have been stored away correctly. They probably had Lance to thank for that, what with how much time he spent down here in the access tunnels.

Chester spotted a power generator against the wall, right by the bin of joints. Chester noted the generator in their head for later. They weren't sure how they'd get it all the way up to the daycare, but they figured they could puzzle that out when they came to it.

Parts in hand, Chester stepped into the cylinder with Freddy. They set the parts on the unoccupied table.

"Can I see your arm, please?" Chester asked.

Freddy held out his damaged limb to them, even angling it so they could get at the screws holding the metal panels in place. Chester took in a deep breath and got to work removing the panel concealing the elbow joint.

Once the panel was off, Chester stared at the joint for a long moment. They realized with a start that they actually knew what they were looking at. They could picture Freddy's diagram in their head, they knew what the joint was meant to look like, they knew how it connected to the sockets, they knew how the sockets were bolted in place. None of the wiring had been damaged, but even if it had, Chester realized that they knew how the wiring connected as well. With a sense of cautious relief, they took out their tools and got to work disconnecting the top socket.

"Here, if you could place your arm over the table, I'll stand on the other side. That way the arm won't just fall once I've got the socket off," Chester signed.

Freddy complied. He watched Chester work as they dismantled the joint, leaving his upper arm connected to the lower half by a bundle of wires. Chester got to work connecting the new joint together.

"This doesn't… hurt, does it? Your arm being like this?" Chester asked.

"Not at all, superstar. I do appreciate how gentle you are," Freddy said. "None of the wires are damaged, right? Wire reconnection is far more uncomfortable."

"You're in luck, the wiring is fine," Chester assured.

"Oh, good!"

Chester glanced up at Freddy. He seemed far more relaxed now than he had earlier. His expression was set into a neutral smile and he was standing straight, though he was bent slightly over the table. Chester wondered briefly if it was strange for him to be in parts and service, where he was surrounded by storage shelves full of, essentially, replacement body parts.

Chester's curiosity pressed at the edges of their brain, questions bouncing around like the worlds worst game of ping pong. "Pardon me if this is rude or upsetting to ask, but… what is pain like for you?"

"I do not experience it very often. Sometimes the way my programming runs feels… disagreeable. Forgive me, it is not easy for me to describe. I have been told pain for humans often depends on what is causing the pain. I believe that much is true for me as well. Some circumstances are manageable or mitigatable. Wiring, for instance, is more manageable, however uncomfortable. Running power through a new wire is uncomfortable at first, it feels very tight, like squeezing through the head of a needle. It only lasts a moment. Other times…" Freddy paused to collect his thoughts. Chester could hear a small whirring fan kick on in Freddy's head. "Other times there is nothing to be done, the discomfort does not pass easily, and it can be very overwhelming. This usually only occurs when I disagree with a line of code and try to keep it from running, or when I encounter system errors. I have never experienced a headache before, but I imagine the sensation closely resembles a very bad migraine."

"I see." Chester nodded slowly, mulling over this information carefully in their brain. "If I ever cause you pain or discomfort, please let me know and I'll try to fix it."

Freddy smiled. "Thank you, that is very kind of you. I will let you know."

Chester finished connecting the new joint in no time. They had Freddy try it out before screwing the panel back in place.

"You've done a fantastic job, superstar! Thank you." Freddy pat Chester's shoulder, beaming down at them happily.

"No problem, just… doing my job." Chester forced a small smile.

Freddy had a birthday party to get to, and so he waved goodbye before making his way out of parts and service. Chester disposed of the damaged parts and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. They'd actually done it. It hadn't even been difficult. Still, with any luck, they wouldn't have to do another animatronic repair task for a good long while.

~~~

"Hey Sun!" Chester called out verbally, since their hands were full. They heaved the bulky metal monstrosity in past the daycare doors. They kicked their shoes off as they made it inside. "I finally found a generator!! And I think it shouldn't be too hard to hook it up to the lights!"

"OH?!" Sun came bounding up. "Oh, oh dear. Oh. Please don't… ah. Can I carry this for you??" Sun's hands were fluttering around the generator's frame. His gaze was fixed on the wheels, where they were catching and pulling at the padded floor and starting to leave marks.

"If you don't mind," Chester signed, stepping back. Not only was it extremely heavy, but the generator's shitty little wheels were proving to be a huge pain to maneuver over the cushioned floor anyways.

Sun eagerly grabbed the generator by the bottom edges. He straightened without so much as a fraction of hesitance, like he was lifting a box of feathers. He turned and walked off at normal pace with it, leaving a stunned Chester rooted to the spot.

"Are you coming? I don't think I can hook this up by myself," Sun called, realizing Chester wasn't behind him.

"Right!" Chester shook it off and hurried after Sun. "You're really cool, you know that?"

Sun's faceplate spun happily. "Why thank you, friend! What brought this on?" Sun maneuvered the generator, balancing it against his hip and holding it one handed as he tapped the code into the panel and opened the door to the spiral staircase.

"Jeez," Chester breathed. They followed Sun through the door, closing it behind them. "You're carrying that generator like its nothing. The thing weighs twice as much as I do."

Sun looked down at the generator, pausing halfway up the stairs. He suddenly feigned straining with it, lowering it and hunkering over it, arms rattling. He took a massive exaggerated step. "ARGHHH! HRGHHHH! GRAHHHHH!" He continued like this the rest of the way up the steps. When he got to the top, he set the generator down and threw himself over it dramatically. "PHEW!!!" He wiped imaginary sweat from his brow, then looked at Chester. "How was that?"

Chester was too busy laughing to reply. They gripped the railing on the stairs tightly, feeling a little light headed. They got their giggling under control. "That was much better, thank you."

Sun pushed the generator into the room, parking it by the wall with the electrical box. Chester got out a screwdriver and began removing the back panel of the electrical box.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Sun asked, peering over Chester's shoulder as they set the panel aside and got to work.

"No more than a few minutes, I think. I did some reading, it shouldn't be too much trouble. Right now I'm installing the interlock kit to the panel. Then I need to install the power inlet box, then start wiring the connections. Then I just install the circuit breaker and put the panel back on," Chester recited the steps they'd learned.

"Mmhmm. Yes, yes." Sun nodded along. "Very good. Yes."

Chester smiled. "Do you want to help?"

"Sure!!" Sun bounced up and down.

"You can hold these little panel screws for me, if you like," Chester offered, sweeping the little collection of screws off the rim of the electrical box, where they'd been perched precariously. They held the handful out to Sun.

"On it, boss!" Sun very carefully cupped the screws in his hands. He stared at them dutifully, making sure they didn't run off anywhere.

Chester was making good progress. They glanced back at Sun, who was still staring down at the screws. Chester smiled at him. Sun noticed the attention and tilted his faceplate up to Chester.

"What's that smile for?" Sun's faceplate tilted a few degrees in curiosity.

"Oh, nothing. You're just cute is all," Chester said.

"Cute??" Sun jolted.

Chester froze, embarrassment shooting through them. Did I seriously just said that-?! "I mean-!" Chester jerked their hands away to sign. They weren't looking, their hand pulling or hitting something, they couldn't tell. The electrical shock was more than a little distracting.

Chester yelped and fell back on their ass. All at once they could see trees, rain, the shape of the plex from the top of the hill, its neon sign glowing through the haze. Chester blinked, shaking off the images and the shock. Their heart was pounding uncomfortably.

For a moment, Chester panicked as their vision didn't seem to want to come back to them. They blinked rapidly, the dread setting in for only a moment before realization calmed them- the lights had just gone out. Chester's eyes were adjusting, they could see the electrical box in front of them and the shape of the generator next to them.

"Sun?" Chester called out. They felt along the ground behind them, where Sun had been. Their hand met a collection of tiny screws scattered on the ground. The dread came back.

Was Sun freaking out about the lights? Where was he?? Chester fumbled along their belt until they found the flashlight they were now glad they'd taken from the employee stock room. They clicked it on, wincing at the sudden sharp white light. They swept the beam across the room. The room was empty, though Chester noted the curtain had been thrown open. They hurried out onto the balcony and peered down at the daycare below. They swept the beam over the ball pit, but everything was still.

"Sun?! Where are you??" Chester took the stairs down, planning to scour the daycare and make sure Sun was alright. They took two steps beyond the door before freezing to the spot.

Red eyes were fixed on them from the other end of the daycare.

"You." Chester stared wide eyed at the animatronic, cast in shadows beyond the reach of their flashlight. This was the same animatronic they'd met on their first night shift, the one who'd given them a concussion before promptly and totally vanishing. Chester stood stock still, waiting for the animatronic to move.

The animatronic did move, but they turned away from Chester. They turned back to the wall they were standing next to, frantically tapping away at something there. Chester risked a few steps closer, holding their beam higher. The animatronic seemed to be tapping at a light switch. Chester panicked for a moment as a thought occurred to them- what if they'd just short circuited the whole building??

Chester went to the nearest window, then breathed a sigh of relief. They could see low neon lighting in the waiting area outside from a sign on a wall, and from an ATM machine by the check in desk. So they'd just knocked out the daycare's lights, then. Chester turned from the window, focusing on the task at hand. The animatronic hadn't attacked them or threatened to detain them, so he still remembered Chester's employee profile. Either that or he wasn't currently in security mode. Whatever the case, Chester still needed to find Sun.

"Sun! Where'd you go?" Chester called out, struggling to project. They swept their light back and forth over play structures and stacks of toys. They paused, noticing the red eyed animatronic watching them. They breathed, trying to reign in their apprehension. They signed with one hand, flashlight in the other. "Did you see where Sun went?"

The animatronics' eyes shifted in the dark. It took a second for Chester to realize, but the bot had tilted his head, much like how Sun tilted his faceplate when he was confused or curious.

Chester was having a hard time not feeling unnerved with the way the bot was just staring at them. "…You're not gonna bash my skull in again, are you?" They tried a light laugh.

The red eyes lowered. Chester squinted through the darkness, not willing to get too much closer, even to put the bot in the light. It looked like he'd crouched down to the ground.

"…Sorry."

Chester paused. They hadn't been expecting the bot to apologize. "Oh. That's alright. All is forgiven. Just uh, don't do it again. Okay?"

The bot didn't reply, and Chester was too far to make out any sort of expression. They pushed their fear aside to take a few steps closer, still watching the bot carefully.

"How come you aren't around often?" Chester asked.

The bot watched Chester just as carefully as they watched him. "…I'm only here when the lights are out." He spoke in quiet, gentle tones.

Chester took another step, slowly but surely closing the distance. "What, like a vampire?"

The bot mimicked the sign, tapping two fingers in a 'V' shape to his neck. "Sort of." He sounded amused by this.

Another step closer, and he was almost in the light. This time, he moved back away from the light. "…You don't like the light," Chester realized. They glanced down at their flashlight, then back up at the animatronic, who's gaze never wavered from them for a moment. Chester took in a breath and held it. They clicked the light off.

For a moment, all Chester could see in the sudden darkness was two red pinprick lights a ways ahead of them. They stood stock still, waiting. Waiting for their eyes to adjust, waiting to see if the bot moved. The bot was just as still as they were.

Once Chester's eyes adjusted enough to make out shapes around them, they started to relax. They slipped the flashlight back into their toolbelt.

"You can see in the dark, right?" Chester signed.

"Yes," came the bot's hushed voice. "You cannot."

"That's correct."

"…Why did you turn your light off?" the bot asked.

"It bothered you. Just trying to keep on your good side." Chester smiled, hoping to convey they weren't being too serious. "Listen… I'm looking for my friend Sun. I'm not sure where he's gone, but he can't be far. He can't really leave the daycare. Since you can see in the dark… would you mind helping me look for him?"

The bot tilted his head again. After a long moment of consideration, he said, "…Sure."

Chester watched the bot stand slowly and turn to study a nearby crawly tube. Chester turned their gaze to the play structure they were standing beside. They tried to think about where Sun could be. If he'd jumped off the balcony in a panic, maybe he'd hurt himself on the landing?? Maybe he was laying broken and unresponsive at the bottom of the ball pit. The thought caused Chester no small amount of distress. They turned their back to the red eyed animatronic and headed for the ball pit.

Chester started wading through plastic balls, trying to feel along and not loose their footing at the same time. They noted the red eyed animatronic watching them from the corner of their eye.

"What's your name?" Chester asked. "I'm… I'm Chester." The name didn't sit quite right with them, but it wasn't like they could go around giving out their real name at this point.

"Moon." The animatronic, Moon, watched Chester carefully.

"Huh. Have you ever met Sun?" Chester asked.

Moon took a moment before responding. He was still watching Chester intently. "…Not in person."

"Oh. Well, he's pretty cool. If we can find him, you could meet him…" Chester rounded back to give the ball pit another pass. No sign of Sun yet.

Moon approached, footsteps cautious, only audible by the jingling bells on his shoes. He stopped by the edge of the ball pit, crouching down to grip the rim of the pit with his hands. Chester took a moment to look him over, realizing he was finally close enough to see.

Moon wore similar pants to Sun's, though his were patterned differently, with star shapes instead of long stripes. He had a lot of ruffles and ribbons like Sun too, though his whole color scheme was much darker. He wore a long nightcap on his head, a little gold bell at the end catching the low light from out in the hall. His circular face was half shadowed, leaving only a crescent shape visible in the dark. He had a stagnant grin like Sun's. 'Moon' seemed to be just as fitting to him as Sun's name was to him.

"Huh. Another clown animatronic," Chester said. They had to wonder what role Moon could possibly play here at the plex. Had he been some sort of prototype for Sun?? Was that why he wasn't usually out touring the plex? Maybe he was meant to be decommissioned or something?

"Jester," Moon corrected.

Chester tilted their head in curiosity.

"Lots of people don't like clowns… think they're scary. Jesters are friendlier," Moon said.

"Oh. I understand." Chester gave up on the ball pit. They huffed and made their way to the edge of the pit, climbing out. Moon took several steps back, keeping his distance. Chester stood a little too quickly and wavered, a bout of dizziness quickly hitting them. They felt their weight shift back a little too far, and took in a sharp hiss of air as their stomach dropped-

There was a small jerk, and suddenly Chester was pulled forwards. They could see Moon standing right next to them, his hand on their tool belt. Chester flinched before they could realize what had happened; Moon had just pulled them forwards by the belt, saving them from crashing back into the ball pit.

Moon leapt back with startling speed, crouching back down to the ground. "Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry."

Chester held up their hands, straightening up and taking a steadying breath. Their heart was pounding. They willed it to settle. "It's okay, thank you for catching me." They took a step away from the pit and cast another look around the daycare. "I really don't know where Sun went… I'm starting to get worried. Listen, I'm gonna try and get the lights working again so I can have an easier time looking for him. Since you don't like the lights, I'm letting you know in advance so you can head out, alright?"

Moon just stared at Chester. He was very still, no chance of gleaning his reaction through body language like Chester had learned to do with Sun.

"I'll see you around?" Chester offered, heading back towards the door to the spiral staircase.

"I'm not sure," Moon said quietly.

"Well, I hope so. I've got some questions for you, next time I see you." Chester reached the door and gave Moon a little wave. "Bye for now."

"Goodnight," Moon replied.

Back in the tower room, Chester made quick work of finishing connecting the generator to the electrical box. They crossed their fingers and activated the generator, flipping the lights back on.

There was a sudden hum that Chester realized just then had been missing. They blinked, suddenly blind in the flood of light around them. It had worked- the lights were on. Chester double checked everything, making sure it was all installed correctly and connected properly. They breathed a sigh of relief and went back out on the balcony.

To their surprise, they spotted Sun standing not far from the ball pit. Had he really fallen in after all and Chester had just missed him??

"Sun!!" Chester called, relieved to see their friend. Sun's gaze snapped up to them, and he waved enthusiastically.

Chester hurried through the door and down the steps. In their rush they tripped down the last few stairs like a dunce, flying forwards with a yelp. They landed very suddenly, but not uncomfortably, against plastic casing and soft fabric ruffles. Sun had caught them, having come through the door to meet them.

"Careful!!" Sun chided. He gently released Chester, keeping a hand on their shoulder to be sure they wouldn't fall right over again.

"I was worried about you!!" Chester lightly swatted Sun's arm. "You really don't like the lights being out, huh?"

"I didn't mean to worry you." Sun's eyes flashed with blue light. "Are you alright?? Are you- did you- did…" Sun relaxed, posture slouching slightly as the blue light clicked off. "You're unharmed."

"I'm alright. I actually sort of made a new friend." Chester recounted their meeting with Moon, and how Moon had helped them search for Sun before Chester had decided to fix the lights. "I guess he's gone now. He doesn't like the lights, apparently."

Sun laughed his uncomfortable strained sort of laugh, like the sound was being dragged out of his voice box. "You met Moon. And you're okay?" That blue light came on again.

"I told you, I'm fine. I think I've got the issue figured out, with you guys getting confused in security mode. Remember when we talked about that?" Chester asked, their hands moving through the signs quickly.

"I remember," Sun said.

"Moon wasn't confused this time. He remembered that I'd showed him a paper copy of my employee form. So there's no issue anymore! I still haven't figured out why the employee files get corrupted every now and then or how to fix it, but now I'm at least confidant in this solution. And I think you were right about the others getting confused because of conflicting messages, missing employee forms and valid nametags. I've been thinking about something Freddy told me recently, about how he sometimes disagrees with how his programming runs, and how it makes him feel uncomfortable, like he's in pain. This is just a hunch, but I think maybe its hard for you guys to cope with how certain programs or errors make you feel. So maybe that’s why…" Chester trailed off. That's why Moon lashed out that night.

"That's why the others get… confused," Sun finished slowly. He wrung his hands together, metal shifting quietly against metal. "Chester… when we say 'confused'…"

Chester willed Sun not to finish his question. He did anyways.

"Moon hurt you, didn't he?" Sun asked quietly.

Chester looked away. They sat down on the stairs, hands folded in their lap while they considered how to reply. They went back and forth in their head- they wanted to tell Sun. They despised lying to him, keeping things from him. At the same time, if word got out and the company filed an incident report with the police, Chester was done for. They looked up at Sun. He was clearly worried, his grin entirely foreign amidst his tensed body language. He was so worried for them. Chester sighed, hoping they wouldn't regret this. "It's extremely important that you don't tell anyone. Okay?"

Sun nodded solemnly.

"Okay. That night, when I made that deal with you so I could stay in your room… Earlier that night, I met Moon for the first time. It… didn't go super great." Chester explained in minor detail how Moon had stuttered through voice lines and chased them down. They told Sun that Moon had been the cause of their head injury, leaving it at that. They explained how they'd finally shown Moon their employee form, and how Moon had seemed to snap out of it before retreating.

Sun's hands were shaking as Chester spoke. He was silent until they were done.

"Chester… I… I'm so sorry," Sun whispered, uncharacteristically quiet. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Chester said.

"I'm sorry," Sun said again, his voice wavering and edged with static.

"Easy Sun, it's alright," Chester tried to assure. "It wasn't anyone's fault! I don't even hold it against Moon. I'm still sort of scared of him, honestly, but… I don't think he meant to hurt me. It didn't seem like he was fully aware of what was going on through… whatever it was he was going through."

Sun made a soul wrenching whining noise, the sound of it now drenched in static. He folded his arms tightly, trying to stop their shaking.

Chester realized then that he was crying, as much as he could cry without any tears.

"I don't like this," Sun whined. "I don't like it, it hurts, it hurts, I want this to stop."

Chester shot to their feet, stumbling slightly but quickly regaining their footing. They closed the distance between them and Sun and wrapped their arms around him.

"It's okay," Chester whispered, pressing the signs into Sun's back. "It's okay."

Sun's arms hovered over Chester, shaking hard enough to be audible. Then he finally settled his arms around Chester. A shiver rattled its way down his whole frame. He squeezed them tightly, holding onto them like a lifeline.

Chester held Sun until he stopped shaking. When they pulled away, Sun was reluctant to release them, but loosened his arms just enough for Chester to slip away.

"Thank you. That was…" Sun put a hand over his chest, trying to feel for something that wasn't there. "I don't know."

"Sadness. You were sad," Chester offered. "Or at least, whatever the robot equivalent to it is."

Sun considered this. His fingers scraped slowly over plastic plating. "I don't think I like that at all."

Chester nodded. "Yeah, that's a tough one."

Sun focused back in on Chester. "Why didn’t you tell anyone you'd been hurt? Why… Why stay here? After Moon had hurt you?"

"…I can't answer that. I'm sorry." Chester couldn't look at Sun.

"…Okay." Sun reached out and gently took one of Chester's hands. "Chester, I don't want you to be scared of me. The thought of that makes me… feel…" Sun trailed off, his faceplate lowering.

"I'm not scared of you, Sun," Chester assured. They squeezed Sun's hand. They were a little confused as to why Sun would be worried about that. Maybe because he and Moon looked alike?

Sun didn't look up, didn't move for a long moment. He stared at Chester's hand in his. Chester got the feeling he wanted to say something. They waited patiently for him to find the words, understanding full well how difficult it could be at times to find the words.

Finally, Sun settled on a simple, "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?? I'm not upset with you."

Sun didn't reply. He released Chester's hand and turned away. "I think I want to stop feeling sad. It's too much, I don't like it."

Chester thought maybe Sun had been trying to apologize for his emotions. "It's alright to feel things, Sun. I know it can be miserable sometimes, but it'll make the things that make you feel good that much more wonderful by comparison." Chester straightened up. "If you want, we can play a game? Put all this behind us?"

Sun nodded eagerly. "Yes, I would like that."

Chester lead the way out of the stairwell and back into the daycare. They chose a game at random from the game shelf and helped Sun set things up.

As the game progressed, Sun started to relax. Chester relaxed by extension, glad to see that Sun was starting to feel better. By the end of the game, Sun was even back to his happier movements, swaying and tapping. Even so, there was a slight hesitance once it was time for them to part ways. Sun had a daycare to prepare, and Chester had a long day to sleep off.

~~~

The next night, Sun seemed to be feeling much better. Sun insisted Chester pick the game once more, again assuring them that he didn't mind any game, he just had fun playing and spending time with Chester. Chester felt much the same way, and so they chose a game at random, though they tried to pick a new game for variety.

Tonight's game was 'Connect Four'. Sun set up the slot tower and divvied out the chips. Chester took the red chips, figuring the yellow chips were more fitting to Sun.

"You really like board games, huh?" Chester asked, starting off the round by dropping a chip into one of the center rows.

"I do!" Sun nodded enthusiastically. "I like all games. So long as everyone is having fun! That's what's most important." Sun dropped his chip one slot to the right of Chester's.

Chester dropped their next chip in the slot to the left of their first. "I would have loved to have a place like this growing up. Seeing these jungle gyms and listening to you play with the kids all day, it just makes me happy knowing the kids have a place like this. You run a really nice little daycare here, Sun."

Sun started bouncing in his seat with enough fervor to bump the table. "Oh gosh!! Thank you so much, that's so kind of you!" Sun laughed. He seemed to realize suddenly that it was his turn, and quickly dropped his next chip, to the left of Chester's last chip. "I try really, really hard to make sure everyone is taken care of and having fun. It's what I was built for! Sometimes it's hard, kids don't get along or they have bad days or get upset or sometimes the parents are mean, but even so, I can't imagine ever wanting to do anything else! When the kids are kind to each other, or when they give me a hug goodbye, or draw something for me, there's this feeling… sometimes feeling things is so hard and overwhelming, but this feeling is so, so nice, it's one of my favorite things! And it's almost never overwhelming, definitely one of the kinder things to my processors. It's like… its like right after a software update that patches up a bug, or right after I finish recharging. Like everything is not only as it should be, but the best it can be!"

"That's really nice." Chester smiled. They turned their chip over a few times in their hands before dropping it on top of Sun's last chip. "I think the kids are all the better for it, too."

"I sure hope so!" Sun continued to bounce and sway, barely managing not to bump the table again. He dropped his next piece, beside the first chip he'd dropped.

Chester could hear bells jingling merrily along Sun's costume as he bounced. It almost sounded like there were bells jingling inside him too, like there were spare bells stowed away somewhere in his casing. Every part of him really was crafted for his position. Chester wondered what that was like, that feeling of fulfillment Sun must have from carrying out the role he was entirely and intentionally made for. They imagined as well what it might be like for him to fear loosing it. Chester felt they understood a bit better why Sun seemed so anxious about the lights- being told the daycare was at risk of being closed down… What was anyone supposed to do if they'd lost their entire life's purpose? What they were literally built for?

"You've been thinking for a while! It's so early in the game to be strategizing that hard. I worry I'm in for a rough time!" Sun laughed lightly.

Chester brought themself out of their thoughts, focusing back on the game. "Sorry, I got distracted." They made their next move, dropping their chip to the right of Sun's last chip.

"Do you like being a technician? Does it feel… what's the human equivalent? Like a full night's rest??" Sun wondered. He made his next move while Chester replied.

"I do, actually. I didn't think I would, when I… started this job. But, as it turns out, I like working with my hands, and seeing something that was broken run again because I fixed it is very rewarding. And there's a satisfaction to marking tasks complete in my little list. It feels… fulfilling. Maybe not to quite the degree that you experience, and maybe not in the same way that you experience it, but there is that sense of fulfillment for me from doing a good job. Or at least, doing my best and having it be enough."

"That's good! So you think you'll stick around then? You like working here, right?" Sun asked.

Chester stared down at their chip, flipping it over and over in their hand while they thought. "I… yeah. I would like to stick around," they admitted. They dropped their chip. They knew they couldn't stick around here, they were only here because they needed a place to lay low for a while. But… there wasn't any harm in not being miserable while they were stuck hiding out here, was there? They hadn't lied to Sun after all, they did want to stick around. Even if they couldn't.

"Good! We can play so many games!!" Sun's rays all popped in and out. His stagnant grin seemed much more genuine. "I really like playing games with you. It's much different than playing with the kids! I love playing games with them too, but you don't seem to mind at all who wins or looses. You just like to play, like I do!"

"Yeah." Chester smiled. "It's just nice to hang out with you, honestly. You're very easy to talk to. And that's coming from someone who doesn't like talking to the point of being selectively mute." Chester laughed.

"Aww, thank you friend! You're very kind." Sun put a hand to his cheek and waved at Chester with the other in a very 'oh, stop it you' sort of way. He dropped his next chip. "How come you don't like talking??"

Chester explained while they thought about their next move. "Well, for me it's really difficult to translate what's going on in my head into spoken word. And there's a lot to consider with tone and implication, I could accidentally say something I don't mean to say by using the wrong tone or messing up what I'm trying to get across badly enough. It's just easier for me with sign. And sometimes I just… I don't know, I just don't feel like speaking, it feels… difficult. It's tough to explain." They played their next move, managing to line up three chips in a row.

Sun quickly blocked the space Chester needed for their fourth with his next move. "I see. Speaking can be hard for me too, sometimes! My coding doesn't like it when I try to use certain tones. I'm supposed to be happy and friendly and upbeat all the time! And I don't mind that, really, I like being friendly, and when I'm happy and silly it makes other people around me happy too! But sometimes I don't feel happy. And when I speak it comes out sort of funny," Sun explained.

Chester could remember hearing static coming through with Sun's voice from time to time. They nodded in understanding. "I see." They dropped another chip.

They played a few more turns in silence. Sun nearly got four in a row, but Chester managed to block him before he could win the game. The board quickly filled with red and yellow tiles. They would both get close to winning without managing to actually seal the deal.

Sun broke the silence first. "What's your favorite thing to do when you're not working?"

Chester thought back, to a time before their life had gotten so complicated. "I really like to take little walks and just… look."

"Look?" Sun tilted his head, faceplate rotating a few degrees.

Chester nodded. "Yeah, I like to look at the world in general. Sometimes I'd take a walk in the woods and find a nice place to sit and just… look at the trees and plants moving in the breeze and watch birds and squirrels. I love looking at the stars, too. I don't know, there's just something nice about just. Existing in the world. Watching it quietly and appreciating it."

"Hmm." Sun hummed thoughtfully. "That sounds very nice."

They played until there were no moves left to make, the game ending in a draw. They tipped the slot tower and played another round. This time Chester won, though they got the sneaking suspicion that Sun had let them win. They played and talked and laughed together until it was time to wrap things up and prepare for the day.

This time, when Chester left to sleep up in Sun's room and wished him good luck for the day, they felt a little sad to say goodbye. They felt silly for the thought, but they couldn't help it. They genuinely enjoyed Sun's company, and despite everything, it seemed the feeling was mutual.

Chester curled up in their makeshift bed, drifting off with ease and sleeping just as easily.

~~~

Chester's dizziness was slowly improving. The headaches they did get were manageable, and the haze clouding their brain was all but gone. Despite their improvements however, they still found themself spacing on certain things.

I'm totally allowed to blame this on the concussion, Chester thought as they fled for their life down the halls of the plex. They'd spaced and forgotten to return their faz-phone to its charger after their shift. They'd been about to settle down for bed when they'd realized, and not wanting to sleep with the employee form in their pocket, had removed it before bed. Naturally, they'd forgotten to put it back in their pocket when they'd left to return the faz-phone. Which was why they were now being chased down dim neon drenched halls by a violent chicken robot.

There was a way out of this, if Chester could just think. They were outpacing Chica by a small margin. She was lighter than most of the other animatronics, but she still had trouble turning corners at top speed. Chester couldn't keep running circles all night, though. They'd get tired. Chica would not.

Chester thought back to a few nights ago, when they and Chica had caught each other both eating things they shouldn't be eating. Chica hadn't said a thing about their missing employee profile then. Of course, Chester's employee form had been on them, then.

Chester found themself back in the food court. They dashed along the outer line of little restaurants, then made a sharp turn down the short staircase and into the main seating area, taking all five steps at once. They fumbled the landing, careening sideways and forwards. Their hands found a trashcan by the side of the stairs, toppling it in an attempt to regain their balance. This didn't work quite as well as they'd hoped, and they ended up sprawled across the tile, their side hitting the leg of a table.

In a panic, they tried to quickly scramble back to their feet. They whacked the top of their head on the underside of the table, falling back on their ass with a cry. The pain was quickly overshadowed by fear, but…

Chester looked up, eyes landing on Chica, who was not currently attempting to murder them. She seemed to have forgotten about Chester entirely, instead focusing on the toppled trashcan. She dropped to her knees and grabbed up in her fist a discarded, mostly eaten slice of pizza from the ground. She eagerly stuffed it in her beak, then feverishly dug through the trash, finding another slice.

Apparently, the urge to eat garbage pizza was even stronger than Chica's urge to put an end to Chester's error causing existence. Chester only sat around contemplating this for a moment before booking it out of there. They passed a staff bot already rolling over to clean up the mess Chica was making- the familiar custodian bot with the blue cap- who stared intently at Chester as they hurried past.

Chester made for the daycare, checking over their shoulder to be sure Chica hadn't lost interest in her garbage. They rounded the corner, putting Chica out of sight. They turned around just in time to catch a flash of green before they walked right into another animatronic.

Monty stood before Chester, perhaps having come to investigate all the ruckus. Chester nearly swore aloud in frustration- they just couldn't catch a break.

"Hey, little guy! Little- are you lost, lost? Runt, hey-" Monty started to stutter through voice lines. He took a heavy step forwards. "You… don't have… valid employee profile." Monty groaned. Several fans had kicked on and were whirring away, desperately trying to cool down something overheating in his head. "Runt… make this stop."

Chester was exhausted. With Chica behind them and Monty in front of them, they tried to think. If certain things could snap them out of their error feedback induced rage, then perhaps there was another way out of this. Chester recalled everything they knew about the gator, which admittedly wasn't much. He was prideful, said 'rock-n-roll' a lot, and loved playing minigolf. That would have to be enough.

"Montgomery, I challenge you to a game of minigolf!" Chester said quickly, speaking as well as signing to be sure Monty understood.

Monty froze. Chester eyed his clawed hands, hovering uncomfortably close to them.

"You're on, runt. No way you can beat me!" Monty said. His voice was edged with static. Rigidly, he turned and started to walk away.

Chester stood still, hoping Monty would just walk off to gator golf and leave them be. No such luck.

When they didn't follow, Monty turned back around. With a static-drenched growl, he snatched the back of their shirt and pulled them along with him. Chester struggled to keep on their feet as Monty practically carried them with him down the hall, past pirate's cove, and through the double doors to gator golf, whacking his tail on the doorframe as he passed.

After stomping past bushy plastic foliage and past a swamp themed shack where people could make their minigolf experience purchases, Monty dropped Chester by one of the golf club dispensers. Chester recalled fixing this particular dispenser not too long ago. They winced when Monty ripped the top off the machine, easily tearing it off like the lid of a pringles can. He grabbed two clubs from inside. He held out the one with the blue handle to Chester, keeping the red handled club for himself.

Chester took it. Monty grabbed some golf balls from inside the machine, then stalked down the faux dirt path to the first hole. He stared at Chester intently.

It seemed their choices were to either play mini golf with Monty, or perish. Given the options at hand, Chester opted to play. They joined Monty and set their ball on the grass carpet. They squinted at the hole, laying in wait in the shadows between two hills. They tried not to think too hard about the absurdity of the situation, and hit the ball with their club. They actually managed to get it close to the hole. Chester realized that, actually, they shouldn't be trying to win. They needed to prolong this game for as long as possible, because as soon as it was over, Monty would be back in security mode.

Monty made his move next. He hit the ball surprisingly lightly. It barely made it halfway down the little field.

As the game went on, Monty would occasionally run a clearly pre-programmed line. These lines were all steeped in static, drawn out and slow as if Monty were struggling to get them out. Or perhaps, trying and failing to keep them in.

Chester noticed that Monty was playing a lot differently than he had the first time they'd played, when the situation hadn't been quite as tense. There was no boasting or bravado, no light jabs at their skills. He was playing with extreme caution, taking his time to get his ball across little wooden bridges, through hollow logs topped with plastic frogs, around clusters of fake reeds.

With a start, Chester realized Monty was doing the same thing they were doing- trying to prolong the game. They remembered how he'd sounded before they'd challenged him to the game, how he'd less stated that they didn't have an employee profile, and more warned them about it. He'd asked Chester to make it stop.

Chester stared at Monty as he barely tapped his golf ball towards the hole, not a foot away. The ball rolled two inches closer at most.

"Beat that, runt!" Monty hissed through the static. "You having fun yet?"

Chester hoped that Monty wasn't still in any pain. They made their shot, purposefully overshooting.

They were only a course away from the final hole when the lights turned on all at once. Monty dropped his club, shoulders sagging in relief. Six in the morning had come at last.

"MAAAN. What a pain!" Monty groaned loudly. "You alright there, runt?"

Chester nodded. They leaned against their golf club and returned the question. "Are you alright?"

Monty waved a clawed hand in the air. "I'm fine. You need to figure out what to do about your employee file if you wanna keep working the night shift. I don't know if you realized but I was pretty close there to doing whatever it took to make the errors stop."

Chester nodded. "I know. I have a paper copy of my profile form, I just didn't have it on me tonight."

"Let me take a look at it soon as you get the chance. And show it to the others too," Monty said.

"I will." Chester held a hand out to Monty. "Good game."

Monty barked a laugh. "Are you kidding? That was the worst game I've ever played!"

"Thanks for not killing me," Chester corrected.

"Sure, kid." Monty shook Chester's hand. "Now get outa here before I change my mind."

Chester smiled and nodded. They made their way out of gator golf, frowning as they passed the golf club dispenser and realizing they might have to be the one to fix it. They heaved a sigh as they left gator golf, trudging at last towards the daycare.

Chester considered telling Lance and Rosa about the error feedback loop the bots would get stuck in. If they were careful about it, they might be able to explain the situation, and also warn them against assigning anyone else to the night shift without first having said employee show the bots a copy of their employee form, all without explaining how exactly Chester knew about the issue, and how they'd originally found out. If the bots could be distracted from this hellish overwhelming error loop by engaging certain other programs, that might be valuable information as well.

They decided to come forward with the information. There wasn't anyone else working the night shift currently, but it likely wouldn't always be that way. Chester didn't want anyone to get hurt, and so they'd have to risk it.

For now though, they desperately wanted to get to sleep. Once they'd taken Monty's advice and shown all the bots their employee profile form, they hoped they'd be sleeping a little easier. With murderous animatronics scratched off their list of things to worry about, Chester dared to hope that things would even start looking up for them.

0 notes

saturnsstufff · 3 years

Text

The Empress Pt.VI

I hope you all have a lovely day🖤🖤

Warnings: light hint to sexual innuendo, Swearing

Its been about a couple of months now since we found Tommy. The palace was up in a baby craze due to the new little prince they inherited. Once we got past the first couple week's of tommy living with us, we saw his true nature. He was a nice and sweet kid, don't get me wrong. But oh, he was also a trouble maker.

Tommy would often bounce between hanging around Wilbur, Techno, Phil and even you. When you would be working at the forge Tommy would sometimes just slip in unannounced and make himself comfortable on a spare stack of metal. You'd only really notice him when he would ask you what something was, or what it did.

That was the new update as well. After returning Techno had requested that you practice making earrings. Saying that he wanted to see how dainty you could work. Of course you didn't mind, back at your village you would often make rings, pendants, and sometimes earrings for those who asked. So making him a earring was no fuss at all.

Techno did start to wonder around to the forge often. usually seeing what you were making or what you were in the process of. Sometimes he would even make off hand comments to make you laugh. Your favorite visit’s from him were always when he would bring tommy. The two would walk in, Tommy holding Techno’s finger as his hand was a little too big for the young boy to fully grasp.

Since you were a familiar face around the palace Techno had stopped wearing his Skull. Instead replacing it with his all to familiar golden reading glasses. You still stood by the ideal that you preferred him with no skull. Since he was, to you, very handsome. You did find out later that the skull he wore was for outsiders. He didn't feel the need to show his face to those who wouldn't be present very long in the empire. Choosing instead to leave them with the impression that he was a monster of a man, rather than a young prince with a heart of gold. When you say he had a heart of gold, you meant it.

Recently techno has really opened up around you, becoming more relaxed in your presence. Phil had mentioned that it would only be a matter of time before he did, and sure enough he was right. If you didn't have anything to do with the forge that day you would sometimes read within his office well he worked. He never made tones of disagreement, or ask that you leave, instead he would just watch you sit before offering a ‘Hello’. It had become something that you often looked forward too.

You and Wil were still thick as thieves. Techno would rag on Wil about how you two could sit and talk for hours, before declaring that you were bored with each other. Only for you two to part then reconcile in the library a hour later. Techno couldn't understand it, but in the end just accepted it for what it was.

You had just finished cleaning up the forge for the night when you herd some light pitter patter of feet. Tommy. You slowly turned to face him. He was in his night wear, obviously he had just gotten out of bed. he looked distraught however. “What’s up bud?” you asked, putting the tongs and the spare metal away. He slightly shifted in his spot, his little teddy bear behind him.

“I had a nightmare” he quietly mumbled. your eyes softened. Ever since you three found him he would have a recurring nightmare about ‘loosing my new family’ as tommy put it. Usually when he had this dream he would seek Techno, or you out for his comfort. Since you two were mostly together when he would look.

“Want me to read to you?” you asked, kneeling down to his level. His bright blue eyes dancing about. He gave a little nod. he put his arms out for you to carry him. you shyly smiled at him.

“buddy I'm a bit dirty...” You said softly, unsure if he was ok with getting dirty right before bed. He only shook his head and said ‘I don't mind’ as a response. So you gently took him into your arms as you stood. He didn't hesitate to curl into your neck. you glanced back at the room that held the forge, you mentally shrugged figuring the rest could wait until tomorrow. With Tommy in your arms you wondered out, heading for his room. On the way there Techno crossed path’s with you.

“Oh (y/n)” he said as he looked from you to tommy. he furrowed his brows, asking what was wrong without physically saying it. You mouthed out that it was a nightmare, Techno slowly nodded understanding. He rested is hand on tommy’s head giving a reassuring rub to it. “Not havin’ such a good night big man?” he asked gently. Tommy turned his head to look at Techno, slowly shaking his head. Techno pondered a moment as he watched tommy. slowly he gained a idea. “You wanna hear somthin’ cool?” he said with a small smile. tommy nodded in response, gripping to your shirt.

“Can (y/n) come?” Tommy asked quietly, watching Techno's kind eyes. Techno patted Tommy’s head before he nodded.

“Yeah I mean, I guess she can come. Only if you deem her cool enough that is” Techno mused, glancing to your eyes. you raised a brow in question, watching Techno bite back a playful smile. Tommy nodded again. “You think she’s cool enough?” Techno asked Tommy, having him confirm his nod. “Yeah I think she’s cool enough too” He said, ruffling your hair before he walked off. queuing you to fallow him. You smiled and fixed your hair before fallowing him. Instead of leading you towards Tommy’s room, he lead you two to the Library. “Go sit on the couch over there” Techno said, pointing to the sofa closest to the fire. You nodded and wondered over, curious of what Techno had planned.

when you sat, you adjusted tommy so he sat in your lap. he pulled his bear close to his chest, hugging it tightly well the two of you waited for Techno. Luckily he didn't take long. When he returned, he had a Violin in hand. He was casually tuning it well he walked. You tiled your head curiously at him. “I didn't know you played” you said to him. He sent a bemused smile to you. taking a relaxed stance.

“Trust me Princess... There's a lot you don't know about me” He waisted no time on starting a soft tune. Well Tommy eased into you, slowly becoming entranced with the peaceful notes, you became more interested in how he swayed to the light swing of his arms. His hands ever so delate as he held the bow, dancing it along the strings. working the instrument to cry out a melody ever so sweet. His face was that of concentration, focused on finding the proper notes to lull his younger sibling to sleep. This was just another reason why you found Technoblade so interesting. He could talk politics and war strategies so easily, sounding like a primed veteran well past his years. But then he could retire to the library and look like a young boy falling in love with the craft he just found.

Well Techno played away, his eyes fell to you. Tommy had fallen asleep in your arms, finding security within them. His teddy bear tightly locked within his own arms. When he glanced up to you he almost had the breath knocked from his lungs. You sat so beautifully. Your eyes were ever so soft well watching him. You looked at him like he was the most important thing you had ever seen. Your face held a little bit of dirt, and ash from the hard work you did for the day, but he didn't mind. He actually preferred it. Too many times had the Court tried to set him up with a prim, and proper woman. One that was elegant, clean, pure, dainty. But He didn't want that. He wanted strong, hands calloused, smudged makeup, sweat dripping, imperfect, but yet somehow at the same time, perfect. He wanted flaw. He wasn't perfect, he had scars, he wasn't the most handsome boy, he was often classified as too bulky, and too tall. He also couldn't be held back with someone who wanted him, to pamper and please. He wanted someone who would treat him as a equal, who praised his knowledge on war instead of shunning it. Someone who embraced the flaws of the world, and turned them into works of art. His eyes wondered back over you, you had moved your head down to check on tommy. Your fingers delicately tracing over Tommy's cheek. Brushing the curls from his face.

You looked back up to techno as he came to a stop. “That was beautiful... Why didn't you tell me you played?” you asked softly. Being mindful of the toddler asleep in your arms. Techno slowly lowered the Violin to the couch.

“I didn't think it was that important to bring up” He said, returning the soft tone. Well he sat the instrument down his eyes met yours. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his eyes, they looked like beautiful glass, the fire’s reflection dancing within, making his eyes dance lively. “If you would like to talk more we should take him to bed first” he said, his eyes flickering to Tommy. You nodded slowly.

“Right, of course.”

After Techno and you had put Tommy to bed it was well into the night. Most of the servants and palace guards had retired to their beds, making way for the changing of the guards. Techno and you weren't really feeling the effects of sleep yet. Rather the two of you wanted to stay within each others company longer. Techno had walked you you to the garden, having snatched two blankets from the library before wondering out into the cold. Techno, having no where to be ended up taking his hair out from his braid. replacing it with a lower pony tail, giving his hair a moment of freedom from it’s confinement.

The garden was beautiful. They couldn't grow flowers of course, but there were elegant sculptures that replaced them. in the middle of the whole garden was a artesian well fountain. although long frozen when the two of you passed by you could hear the water running within the ice. It was peaceful to walk with Techno. It was rare when the two of you would make late night walks. Usually you would take them during the day, or after dinner. But nothing past 10 o’clock mostly.

“So what’s something else I should know about you?” You inquired to him. He smiled to himself before turning to you.

“Are you really going to start school yard type questions with me?” He teased. You smiled and lightly laughed. He was smiling at you, admiring how you looked when you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am. You going to answer them?” You couldn't help but tease back. He chuckled and hummed.

“Mmn. Maybe” he said bemused.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked, now aiming for the most basic questions just to make him laugh in turn. He leaned onto the railing that over looked the kingdom, pondering a moment.

“Red’s a nice color, Or Plum Purple” He said looking at you. Taking a moment to ask you a question in turn. “Besides the forge what do you like to do?” You sat and thought a moment.

“I like to read, Action and Romance are a lot of fun” you mused, earning a laugh from him.

“Romance eh? Waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet? Lamee” he said jokingly. You laughed and took a swat at his chest.

“Oh hush up, I bet you’d like someone to sweep you off your feet Techno” You said, your eyes scanning the horizon. He sat and thought on your words a moment.

“Eh not particularly. Only lame nerds think of that” He said, turning, heading back for the garden door’s. you scoffed and laughed a bit.

“Jerk” you said between laughs. You were going to fallow, but then you had a wicked idea. You scooped up some snow in your hand and bit your lip trying to muffle your laugh. once you had a decent snowball you threw it at him. Bullseye. You had nailed him in the back of the head. He went still, You were a giggling mess now.

“Oh, your in for it now Princess” He said, smirking has he turned. Running after you, his blanket long discarded as he ran to grab you. You squealed out laughing, running from him, discarding your blanket too. You didn't get far before he hooked his arm around your torso, pulling you into his chest well you flapped about like a fish. “Your gonna’ be pullin’ snow out of your shirt for a week when I'm done with ya’!” he said Laughing. Picking snow up before putting it on your head. Some of it even went down your shirt. You flopped about, laughing the whole time until he dropped you into the snow bank. He laughed at you and how you were practically buried within the snow. This only fueled your fire. you threw two more snowball’s the first one missed, but the second one he grabbed out of mid air. You tried to free yourself from the snow bank before he came over to you, but it was no use. he climbed into the bank and shoved the snow down the back of your shirt. But this time you caught him off guard. You grabbed his arm and pulled. setting him off balance so he fell into the snow. Now it was your turn to laugh. tossing more snow onto him. It didn't take him long to recover of course, he simply rolled and grabbed your arms. Pinning them down to the snow. His body hovered over yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His face was that of pure joy, the long stoic look gone. he was at his happiest with you right now. He looked down at you, smiles adorning both of your faces. You two were happy. Happy with the moment, you just wanted it to last as long as it could. Well you two looked into each other’s eyes everything else lost meaning.

Without you two realizing, Phil watched above from one of the windows. He was smiling fondly at the little snowball war you just had. whether Techno had realized it yet or not, Phil did. Techno cared for you. Phil saw how he looked at you. During dinners, Lunches, casual talks, or even when the two of you hung out together. Techno looked at you with pure love and adoration. Phil knew if anyone was capable of wining Techno’s love it was going to be you. You were a hard worker, You cared for Techno’s brothers, got along well with all the servants, were mindful and respective of Techno's space, you also had enough spunk to rise up and toss back the teasing he threw. Phil knew this was the beginning of a love story.

After your snowball fight with techno the two of you did end up going back inside rather quickly. Well Techno may have not been cold, you were definitely cold after all that. You could feel the snow melting on your back, the drops of water running down your skin. But that didn't stop Techno from walking beside you. The two of you walked side by side, your arms around each other to share the warmth. The lingering giggles were etched onto your faces in wide smiles.

“I didn't hurt you at all, right?” Techno asked, double checking incase he was too rough. You shook your head smiling. Drawing your side of the blanket- that was wrapped around you both- closer to preserve the upcoming heat.

“Nah, I coulda’ have taken ya’ if you had stayed above me more” Techno laughed fondly. Amused with your spurt of spunk.

“Oh really now? You think you could take me?” This was now your turn to giggle. purposefully running into his side, shoving him lightly.

“Mmn.. I think I could have found a way” You said looking up towards your room. You had offered to walk techno to his room, but he declined. He said he would feel better if ‘The lady was at her room safely’. You didn't mind, you figured next time you would walk him to his room in turn to make it even, maybe fire back with ‘I must make sure the young prince is safe’.

He chuckled bemused. “If you really have that much spunk maybe I should teach you sword play, or maybe something more military related. you tilted your head up to him curiously.

“You would teach me something?” You asked, semi surprised, but also heart warmed that he would take time aside for you.

“Of course, Princess. I’ll teach you anything you want” He looked down to you as he spoke. He was smiling gently. His tone was fond as he addressed you. “Now don't think I’ll go easy on you though”

“Oh, I didn't think you would” You said, resting your hand on the door handle, opening it. “Would you wanna come in and warm up a bit?” You inquired, looking up to him. He went a faint pink before biting back a shit eating grin.

“Princess... Young men shouldn't be within young ladies chambers during such late hours... Unless, your trying to bed me?” He leaned on your door way. Biting back the largest grin. “Are you trying to bed me, Princess? I knew you had gotten some spunk but I never thought-” You laughed as he teased, going a bit red. trying to wave it off.

“No- No, you know what I mean-” He laughed and cut you off.

“Oh no, I know exactly what you mean” You smiled leaning on your door, looking up at him.

“Are you done?” You asked giggling. He hummed, his face towards yours as he shifted a little closer.

“Maybe” He said amused. “Go get some sleep, and warm up. I'm going to teach you sword play tomorrow” Your eyes lit up. Taking in a small gasp of excitement.

“Are you really?” You asked almost unsure that he was still teasing.

“I mean, Only if that interests you...” He said, his eyes lingering yours. You nodded fast and hugged him without much thought. Techno couldn't help the blood that ran to his face. He lightly cleared his throat as he rested his arms on you. A bit hesitant at first, but he slowly relaxed into your hold. Now understanding why Tommy liked to hug you a lot.

“Thank you...” You mumbled into his chest.

You swore if techno knocked you off your feet one more time you were going to find a way to shove his pretty head in the snow.

Techno was a monster- in the sense of strength. You thought when fighting him, it would be a mutual teaching before he actually started going ham on you. But no, he literary just started striking with no hesitation. Only when he had your swords in a lock did you voice your lag.

"Tech, please can we ease up?" You pleadded. He only watched you briefly. His inner General having come out a while ago.

"Your strong. You can take it" he said sharply. Earning a whine from you. You weren't strong. You didn't do this on a daily. You only made the swords. But he was pushing you. Pushing your strength, and your nerves for one.

"Techno I'm not strong, I- I've never done this-" he grabbed your sword and threw it away from you. Putting his own away. He grabbed your arm and pulled it to him. Pushing your sleeves up.

"Flex your arm." He commanded. You hesitated, looking up at him. "Don't look at me like that. I said flex your arm" you slowly did as he said. Drawing your fist, and flexing your arm. He grabbed your bicep and squeezed a bit. "Notice how hard it is?" You nodded slowly. A slight sting from where he squeezed. "That's pure muscle. You are stronger than you realize. If you convince yourself that you are weak or that you cannot do this, then that's what will become of you" he paused his eyes flashing to yours. "I understand that you are no warrior, but you have strength. As soon as you stop telling yourself that you are weak, you will make progress." He pulled your sleeve down, fixing it for you. "Rome wasn't built over night, Princess. It took time, planning, care, and had to show promise. When I look at you, I see great promise."

When he released your arm you walked over to pick your sword up. Techno readying his stance again. However, before you could break into another spar Phil had wondered out.

"Ay' Techno you have a letter on your desk. You may want to read it" Phil said with a bit of concern. Techno dropped his stance his brow furrowing. He gave a 'Heh?' In confusion. He glanced to you and to Phil.

“Can it wait a bit? I'm in the middle of teaching” Phil shook his head slowly. Techno paused as he thought a bit. "If I go, could you teach (y/n) a bit more? She feel's I'm too strong for her." He mused. His military side slowly fading away for his more domestic side.

"I suppose so." Phil said with a gentle smile. Techno gathered his things and ruffled your hair before leaving. Phil turned his attention towards you. "What has he showed you?" Phil inquired, walking over to you.

"Nothing besides showing me the ground.. seriously my back hurts.." you whined. Phil chuckled lightly at you.

"I should have known. Here I'll teach you some basic's" Before long Phil had you doing simple moves and stances. Things he felt would be easy for you to ace. After a while you got a bit curious.

"Why does techno think I can pick this up so easy? He fights so hard" You questioned. Looking over to Phil. He hummed a moment well he pondered.

"I uh, think that he just wants you to be able to defend yourself. He knows your strong, and besides. He thinks pretty highly of you, y'know'" you went a bit wide eyed. Techno thinks highly of you?

You looked to Phil with a bit of shock on your face. "He does?" He nodded, Smiling gently. Phil gently took the sword from your hands and hung it on the wall with the others.

Since you within the training hall, there was a plethora of weapons and armor of all kinds. The room was large, made for incasing many people. But the detail never faltered. The floor was of stone, pillars lining the outside to support a second floor. The ceiling was framed with gold, dark oak and a smooth white to open the room up more. It was a good place to spar and just ramble off thoughts.

"Oh, of course. He's said it multiple times to me. That's why he was fine with you coming with us to the mansion. Don't think that he hasn't been paying attention to you on the daily." Phil said looking up to you.

"He watches me?" You furrowed your brow slightly. Phil saw and continued.

"Not in the creepy way. He just takes notes of things you do, say you like, ect. He knows your kind with tommy, that you are very organized with your work. Your very detail oriented. He's become quite smitten with you" Phil chuckled. Finding it all amusing.

You were taken aback by this. You thought you two had a good friendship, but it looks like he's paid a lot of attention to you after all. It started to dawn on you. 'I don't really know much about him' you thought to yourself. Sure you knew his mom passed, his favorite color. But you never really dove into his personal life much beyond that. Maybe it was time you got to know him more. "If I wanted to know more about him... could I ask him?" You asked, looking up at Phil. He patted your head and started walking with you towards the hall.

"Of course. Something tells me he wouldn't turn you away." Phil said, biting a smile back. He remembered you two last night playing within the snow. He knew Techno would never turn you away, he was in love with you, even if techno wasn't aware of it.

After dinner you wondered towards Techno's office. You wanted to talk to him, get to know him better. You know he was powerful and kind, but you wanted to know more. What was his ambitions? His hopes, fears. You just wanted more.

When you walked up to the doors you carefully knocked, hearing talking within. When you herd the 'come in' you pushed the doors open. Techno was sat in his chair per usual, he had his reading glasses on with papers on his desk. When you entered he complied them together neatly. Setting them aside for later. However there was also a rather tall woman. she was beautiful, dripping with total control. Her hand was rested on her sword. When she turned to face you. You saw Her face, It was hard but something told you their was more too her. Her skin looked like it was kissed by the sun himself. She looked like she wasn't from here, but the way she dressed herself in armor told you elsewise.

"Hello (y/n)" techno said. The woman glanced to Techno and back to you. She offered a kind smile. "This is General Hawthorne, she's my leading General of the Empires army. I don't believe you two have met before" He said formally. Not having the tone he normally used with you.

She offered her hand. "Its nice to finally meet you (y/n). His Imperial Majesty said we would have a new Blacksmith. But I never expected someone as young as you" Her smile was warm. When you took her hand to shake it you were shocked with the grip she had. Under her glove you could feel some rings digging into your hand. "Don't worry about addressing me as Hawthorne. Seraphina is fine, or Sarah" you nodded smiling to return hers. Wanting her to drop your hand, her grip a tad to much.

"Its a pleasure to meet you, too" you said looking up to her. She turned back to Techno, taking a scroll from his desk.

"I'll see you there then sire" Sarah said, smiling before she walked out. You watched her go, your eyes lingering on the door as you thought. Turning back to Techno.

Techno took his reading glasses off and set them aside on his desk. Leaning back in his chair. When he looked up at you his eyes softened, his tone also becoming casual. "What do you think about weddings?".

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave @sugarandspicebutnonice @bambibunz @lynnarts @buzzybeebee @feathersthewinged @prefesro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #TE

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace.

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you.

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.”

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

/-/

ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou bnha #bakugou mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x self insert #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou imagine

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acidiluc · 3 years

Text

signs.

synopsis: all you know is that the signs never lie. angst. 1774 words.

note: bon appétit, angst lovers. i'm still trying to find my writing style and rhythm,, so please do tell what you think! i was gonna try and avoid cliché themes but i think it still turned out as cliché fkdjfskdfl.

i wanna try writing unique themes so if you have any ideas you wanna share, please do! 😩

meeting kuroo was probably the best moment of your life. and you’re not even kidding. you fell in love with him the first time you interacted with him—and it was during a volleyball meeting. you were the girls’ volleyball team captain and he was the boys’ vball team captain. his loud, charismatic, handsome, and brainy ass has caught your attention. and unfortunately, you’re now one of his fangirls. lowkey.

when he approached you during the conference, he was complaining about how boring the speaker was (even though he was still listening to what the speaker was saying). meanwhile your heart was already complaining about how handsome he is. he started talking to you during the conference and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

after the interaction with him during the conference, you and kuroo started seeing each other and interacting more— he would greet you whenever you pass by each other in the hallway or the cafeteria, or even buy you a drink during lunch, and start exchanging stories. he’s just... tHE PERFECT IDEAL MAN.

this was your first and last year as a team captain. you developed passion for the sport once you joined the volleyball club; training intensely through the years. during the first few years, it frustrated you whenever other schools would reject joint practices with your team. unlike with nekoma’s boys’ volleyball team, they had connections with other schools and a pretty good reputation that gave them easy access to joint practices. it was the awakening of something in you. you trained harder and got better and better and better, achieving the position of team captain. and you swore that during your reign, you will bring light to your team. you will make your team a remarkable team.

since no school was willing to have joint practices with your team, you personally approached your coaches alone and proposed to have joint trainings with the boys’ volleyball team instead. much to your surprise, they agreed. it was the perfect training you were looking for. the boys’ volleyball team was strong and experienced, it will have a different level of intensity of training. and you were already craving the thrill and pressure of it. and kuroo’s handsome face.

just as you expected, the trainings were really on another level. your team lost countless times but this only pushed you and the others to do better. these training days also brought you and kuroo closer to each other. he often teased you that your team will never win against his, bought you more drinks, and even introduced you to his best friend and teammates. this honestly had you wondering if... he felt the same. so after that, you decided to observe him whenever he interacted with you to take hints! so far, you only had three signs.

prefectural tournaments were near and you were getting confident as days passed by since your team was now starting to win against the boys’ vball team. “i’d never win against your team, huh?” you smirked, approaching kuroo with two drinks from a vending machine. you offered him one of them and kuroo gladly took it from you, smirking back. “you cheated.” he said, making the two of you laugh together.

once the prefectural tournaments came, it wasn’t easy on you. the stress, the exhaustion, and the pressure were trying to eat you alive during matches but... you didn’t train and work hard to just easily give up. your team started climbing its way to the top, winning every match before getting in the prefectural qualifiers for the nationals— for you, it was a big victory already.

you successfully shone some light to your team and made it somehow remarkable.

kuroo excitedly made his way to you after the tournament, giving you a big hug with forehead kisses, exchanging congratulatories with you. any stranger would think that you two were a couple at that point. so... sign number four?

after the prefectural tournaments, everything went back to normal. despite not having joint practices for now, your closeness with kuroo never dissipated.

once the class bell rang, you immediately stood up from your seat to get yourself a drink from a vending machine, only to be stopped by kuroo by the classroom door. he smiled down at you and booped your nose with the drink he has in hand, “your favorite.” he said, “you didn't have to, tetsu but... thank you” you smiled, but before you could even reach for the drink, kuroo retracted his hand that was holding the drink, making you frown in confusion.

“give me your number first.” he said, handing you his phone with a smirk. you raised a brow at him and chuckled, “geez, you want to talk to me more, huh? you got a crush on me or something?” you joked as you took his phone and typed in your number, naming the contact: y/n <33.

“so what if i do?” he asked, feeling your heart flutter. damn you, kuroo. you looked up at him and raised a brow while giving his phone back. the taller man only chuckled, “what? it’s just weird we’ve been friends for a while now without having each other’s number.” he said, handing you your drink. he looked behind you as he heard his name being called before looking back down at you and gave you a smile, “i’ll text you, y/n!” he said before jogging down the hall to his friend. uhm, sign number five?

weeks have passed and joint trainings are now a thing again, but not with the boys’ volleyball team anymore! your team’s plays during the prefectural tournament got the attention of other schools, making them reach out to nekoma to have joint trainings with your team.

your days were getting busier now that the nationals is nearing. and the joint trainings were considered the missing puzzle piece for your team— experience. your team lacked experience to be able to come up with new strategies and moves, and it was a great thing to have other schools reach out to train with your team. you and the team’s manager noticed this flaw during the prefectural tournaments. and despite winning most of the joint training matches, your team was still very thankful since there was a lot your team has learned, and new friendships and connections has formed at the same time!

you and kuroo are now closer than ever. now that you have each other’s number— the two of you would often send memes to each other, exchange selfies, send each other things that remind you of each other from the internet, and greet each other good morning and good night texts. there were too many signs to count now. at this point, you were confident that kuroo felt the same.

tomorrow is the day every prefectural qualifiers has been waiting for. the nationals. and you weren’t really that nervous or stressed for it— win or lose, you know you're gonna give it your best either way. instead, you were nervous because... guess what? kuroo offered to walk you home! since he found out that he only lives a few blocks away from you through text.

you were now sure that kuroo felt the same, and you have decided to tell him about your feelings on your walk home. you’re not sure as to how it’s gonna end but you know— you know that kuroo felt the same.

as the last joint training has finished, you excitedly walked towards the school gate to meet with kuroo. “hey, dumbass” you greeted with a lazy smile. kuroo looked up at you from his phone and smiled, “hey, angel.” he greeted back, “how was fukurodani’s girls’ volleyball team?” he asked, taking the backpack you were clutching so he could carry it instead. the two of you exchanged stories as kuroo walked you home, laughing together from time to time. it was nice to walk with him like this. and you wished this could happen everyday.

once you arrived by your street, you stopped walking and sighed softly. kuroo stopped walking as well, turning to you as he sipped on his empty juice box, making loud noises come from the box. “what? what’s wrong?” kuroo asked.

“tetsu, i—" you started, taking a deep breath first before blurting it out. "i’m not really good at confessions but... i’ve been wanting to tell you that i like you for a while now.” you said, face heating up as you gathered all the courage you had in you as you stood in front of the man you were madly crushing on. “i liked you ever since you talked to me in that conference meeting and you just make me feel... really special, you know? with your stupidly cute gestures an— and sweet words. i just feel that there's something special in our connection. i was confident to even tell you this because you seemed like you’ve also been dropping these signs and hints that you felt the same. i— i just... i like you, tetsurou. i like you more than just a friend.” you said, fidgeting with the milk box you were holding as you stared up at him, waiting for his response.

tetsurou held a shocked expression on his face. he stared back down at you with his mouth agape, taking his time to gather his thoughts and words. “i— i uhm...” he started, hand moving to clutch the strap of your backpack. “i— i think you’ve mistaken the ‘signs’, y/n.” he muttered quietly.

and with that, you felt your heart drop. no. you were sure that kuroo felt the same. you wouldn’t confess if you weren’t sure of it. “...mistaken?” you asked quietly, just enough for him to hear. kuroo sighed and scratched the back of his neck, “i like you too, y/n, but only as a friend.” he said, "i— i'm sorry but... i don't see you the way you see me."

you felt stupid. you felt like the dumbest person alive as you stood in front of him. of fucking course he won't feel the same, what the hell were you thinking?!

you looked away from kuroo and breathed a laugh, "how foolish of me... i'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, kuroo." you said, taking your backpack from him. "well, uh—" you started, clearing your throat as you looked around. "we're on my street now." you chuckled awkwardly, feeling tears start to slightly cloud your eyes. "thank you for walking me home. i wish your team a good luck for tomorrow's nationals." you muttered, giving him a small bow before walking off to your house, not even waiting for his response anymore.

stupid fucking signs.

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

Flustered [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 3077

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: “You make my heart skip a beat.” In which Georgie is a chaotic, flustered mess in love with a Hufflepuff chaser.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: For the lovely Erica - I really hope you enjoy it angel! I may have been working on this all week and rewritten it like three times so I’m hoping I got George being all flustered yet cheeky right 😂

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Wow, you really like her don’t you,” Fred commented as he watched his twin staring hopelessly at the h/c girl a few metres to his left.

“What?” George snapped out of his daydream just as he walked straight into a pillar, knocking him back on his feet and he groaned in pain as Fred and Lee laughed.

“Might wanna watch where you’re walking instead of staring at Y/n, mate,” Lee joked, watching as George rubbed gingerly at his nose. “Love really is blind, eh George?” Fred sniggered.

George groaned, half at his nose hurting and half at his friends’ teasing. It’s not his fault he was so distracted - how could he be expected to focus on where he was walking when you were a few metres away from him?

“Oh shut up, the pair of you. You’re acting like you’ve never fancied a girl before. I distinctly remember you falling on your face, Fred, when you first started liking Angelina,” George scowled, nudging his brother.

“That’s because you tripped me up!” Fred said indignantly. George feigned innocence, “I would never do such a thing.”

And then suddenly his focus had fallen back on you, his previous conversation fading into the background, barely paying attention to Lee’s laughter at his expense.

“She’s the best chaser in Hogwarts I reckon,” he said dreamily, watching as your head fell back as you laughed with your teammates.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. You’d made a name for yourself since you’d joined the team a couple years back, and were the best player on the Hufflepuff team. Luckily for George, he knew Harry was a better seeker than Cedric, but he knew you were a force to be reckoned with - you’d scored the most points since the year had started and by a longshot at that.

“You know, we have three perfectly good chasers on our own team you should be complimenting,” Lee pointed out as he opened the doors to exit the castle.

The sun was out, warming up what would have otherwise been a mild morning, dew still covering the grass as hoards of Hogwarts students were milling around, waiting for the match to begin.

The boys began heading towards the quidditch pitch, knowing Oliver Wood would already be there to prep the team on which strategies they’d be using today.

George sighed, “Yeah but... they don’t look like Y/n do they. Or act like her. Or sound like her.”

“I swear to Merlin, if you lose us this match because you can’t stop staring at the girl then I’ll personally kill you myself,” Lee threatened playfully.

“No worries about that, I’ve got a plan!” George announced proudly, straightening his back and pushing his chest out proudly.

“You made a plan? Without me?” Fred came to a sudden halt, making Lee bump into his back as the older twin dramatically clutched his chest as if he was heartbroken.

“Yep. Made it just this minute... I’m gonna flirt with her whilst we’re playing, to distract her,” the younger twin said determinedly.

There was a moment of silence before Fred and Lee burst out laughing laughing, continuing on their journey to the pitch. “You can’t flirt. You can barely speak to her,” Lee chortled, grabbing onto George’s shoulder for support.

“‘S not true. I had a conversation with her the other day!”

“She asked you if she could borrow a quill and you stared at her with heart eyes for a solid couple of minutes before I handed one to her instead. Wouldn’t call that a conversation, Georgie,” Fred said pointedly.

“I wasn’t referring to that - thanks for reminding me of that by the way,” George fake-glared at his twin, “I actually saw her in the library.”

“Oh yeah? What were you doing in the library?” Lee asked in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was studying,” George said simply.

At the sight of Fred and Lee raising their eyebrows, George sighed, “Okay fine, I was hiding from Filch. And I may have seen her walk in there before me. The point is, we had an amazing conversation and she called me cute.”

“Everyone stand back, Georgie’s been called cute and had some really hot, passionate eye contact!” Fred called out sarcastically.

George looked unimpressed, “Oh ha-ha, very funny.”

As they arrived at the stands, the twins bid goodbye to Lee who headed up to commentator’s box.

Around 15 minutes later, the twins were in their quidditch uniform and had just finished with the match briefing. They walked out, laughing and joking when Fred nudged George and nodded over to where you were stood in the middle of the pitch with your team, in your own quidditch uniform, holding onto your broom.

George picked up his pace, taking his place in front of you. He smirked at you, “Heard you’ve been practicing night and day for this, shame we’re going to beat you anyway.”

You looked up and were pleasantly surprised to see the younger twin standing across from you, in his starting position for the match. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy he’d chosen to come and see you instead of speaking to his team.

You scoffed and shot him a grin, “I’m gonna fly circles around you in this match.”

“Bring it on, love! Gryffindor are the best team going,” he bragged, puffing out his chest playfully and making you laugh (something he was extremely happy to have done - he’d never get sick of hearing the melodic sound).

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that,” you said determinedly, climbing onto your broom.

The match began and George made it his mission to compliment you every time he flew past you, to distract you from scoring. Usually, nothing could stop you from getting the quaffle into the hoops but there was something about the ginger boy that had you flustered, heart racing every time he’d throw a smirk your way.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look right now?” He’d said to you as he flew past you, distracting you just long enough for Alicia Spinnet to score a goal and making you grit your teeth in annoyance.

When you had stolen the quaffle from Katie Bell and were just about to score, he came up beside you saying, “Always knew you were an amazing chaser, babe.” And that was enough for you to miss the hoop by barely a fraction of a centimetre.

The last straw was when you’d just managed to throw the quaffle past Oliver Wood, after having to flip over on your broom to avoid Angelina Johnson flying past you in an attempt to steal it from you, earning another 10 points for Hufflepuff when the younger twin flew past you again, “Well that was hot as hell, love.”

And suddenly you forgot where you were for a moment, staring after him as he flew off, mouth open in a slack ‘o’.

Your team captain flew past you, yelling, “Flirt in your own time, L/n!”, making you realise that you were, in fact, in the middle of a quidditch match. And with that, you decided to give George a taste of his own medicine.

“‘M really glad you keep passing us the quaffle, love, making it so much easier for us to win,” George teased you. “Anything for the most handsome beater around,” you retaliated, batting your eyelashes at him. Sure, you could’ve come up with something better but for being in the middle of a game and thinking on the spot, you didn’t think it was too bad.

You were right as well, because as soon as you said it, George stopped mid-air, frozen in place. Because... did you just call him handsome?

His heart was pounding as he stared after you, your h/c hair flowing in the wind and making his breath catch in his throat.

And then suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a bludger coming straight for you. With a glance over at Fred, who was busy trying to ensure Angelina - who had the quaffle - could score, he realised that the other bludger was heading towards Katie Bell.

George raced into action, beginning to head over to help Katie, who moved to dodge said bludger, before suddenly swerving on his broom over towards you, smacking the iron ball away from you merely seconds before it hit you.

He turned to you, all previous playfulness gone and replaced with concern, “Are you okay?”

You barely had enough time to nod, still in shock from the near-hit, before George was called off again by Fred.

“Maybe focus on your own teammates, eh Weasley?” Oliver shouted angrily at George, who looked around and realised Katie Bell had been hit with the other bludger.

“Sorry Ollie mate, had to protect what’s mine,” he called back to his captain.

“And because of that my shoulder got hit!” Katie yelled out.

“Sorry, Bell,” George shrugged, before heading off to hit a bludger away from Alicia. Of course, he did feel bad that Katie got hurt - quite guilty, in fact - but... to him, it would’ve been worse if you’d have been hit - or worse again, had fallen. He didn’t think he could handle that.

“You’re lucky we won,” Fred said to George after Harry had caught the snitch, “Otherwise I reckon Oliver would try and drown you in the showers for saving Y/n instead of Katie.”

“Y/n is my priority to be honest,” George replied as they landed their brooms on the grass, “Plus, I knew Katie saw the bludger coming and had at least a chance to swerve. Y/n had no idea. I couldn’t let her get hurt, Freddie... I couldn’t.”

“Guess we’ll have to work on distractions in the next practice,” Oliver said pointedly on the way past the twins, although the didn’t seem too upset - probably considering Gryffindor had won - followed by Katie who was holding her shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” George said sheepishly. If he was honest though, it wasn’t really a hard decision for him to choose between saving you and saving Katie.

Katie didn’t make his heart race like you did.

The rest of the team headed after the cheering crowds, whooping and hollering at Harry.

Fred followed on, screaming excitedly into the crowd. George went to join when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

He turned around and was met with the sight of your nervous smile, rocking back on your heels as you looked up at him, “Hey... I um, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for hitting that bludger away from me. You didn’t have to do that and I never got the chance to thank you in the game.”

“Don’t you worry love, it was nothing. Gotta protect your pretty face, don’t I?” He said cheekily, making a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Well, it wasn’t nothing, it saved me a great deal of pain and possibly a nasty fall so... I guess I owe you,” You grinned, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You thanked him again and then shyly waved him goodbye to join your teammates.

George felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, his mind racing and heart beating fast as he reached up to the place where you’d kissed him. You’d kissed him.

“You look happy with yourself,” Fred commented with a grin from a few metres away, having walked back after realising his twin wasn’t following.

“She kissed me,” George announced in amazement and pure awe. “Yeah, on the cheek,” Fred grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That still counts!”

“No Georgie it really doesn’t, but I’m glad you think so,” the older twin replied in an amused tone.

“D’ya reckon she fancies me?” George asked suddenly as the twins headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. For a moment, Fred was confused, looking around for some kind of context, but then realised his twin was talking about you.

“Well I mean you are the less attractive twin and all but you do have some good qualities I suppose,” Fred replied, looking like he was in thought.

“Oh yeah, like what?” George asked seriously, hoping for some actual advice.

“Well for starters you have an amazing twin brother.”

George stopped, staring at Fred’s grin and sighing before elbowing him - slightly harder than he intended to so Fred nearly fell into the wall.

“Now now Georgie, I’m simply trying to tell you that I am offering you my services at helping you win her over,” Fred said with a laugh, nudging his twin right back.

“At this point I’m open to anything.”

“Well, this may seem a bit out there, over the top, dramatic - but how about... you just tell her directly how you feel. You have no problem being all sappy about her to me. I’m sick of it really,” Fred sighed with a shake of his head.

“I can’t do that.”

“You’re George Weasley of course you can mate.”

“D’ya reckon?” George glanced over to the group of students heading down the same corridor, most likely to head to get some lunch too.

“Yeah I do. Or, even better, just walk over and snog her the next time you see her.”

As much as George liked that idea - and was imagining it right that moment - he decided against it.

“What if there’s someone else?” Fred decided mess with George. The younger twin’s head whipped round to look at Fred, “What do you mean?”

“Oh wow your face, you’re really gone on her... poor Y/n,” Fred laughed, clapping a hand on George’s shoulder, “All I’m saying is, my dear sweet twin, what if there’s someone else?”

George swallowed. He hadn’t thought of that. What if there was someone else? He hadn’t seen you with anyone and knew Fred was winding him up but what if?

“Then I’ll just beat away the other competition,” George said with a cheeky grin, hiding his worry but his mind was reeling at the possibility.

Fred groaned at the pun, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to reply to his twin when they heard soft laugher from behind them, “Oh don’t you worry, no one could ever beat you, George.”

The twins turned around in shock, George’s heart pounding as his eyes rested on your figure.

“Oh dear Godric, marry her,” Fred groaned as he walked away towards the Great Hall, mumbling something about bad puns.

George felt his cheeks redden, reaching up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck, “You um.. you heard that?” You bit your lip before grinning, “I did.”

“Is it too late to pretend I’m Fred?” George asked with a nervous smile. He could feel the tips of his ears burning and he had no doubt they were most likely blending in with his hair at that point.

You laughed, “Well you could but I’m quite fond of you as yourself if I’m honest.”

“You are?” George’s mind raced, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He then mentally cursed himself for acting so stutter-y and nervous as he ran a hand through his messy hair, “I mean, that’s good because I’m quite fond of you too.”

“Of course. There’s not many guys who would go out of their way to protect me from bludgers... especially when they’re not on my team or as handsome as you are,” you said with a small shrug. You giggled a little noticing a strand of hair sticking up from George messing with it, so you reached up and flattened it out, making him swallow from how close your lips were to his.

He could easily close the couple of inches between you if he wanted. Well, he did want to - badly - but just as he built the courage, you’d stepped back a little further away.

“Some things are more important than who’s on what team... don’t you worry love, I’d protect you from bludgers all day long if you asked me to,” he replied with a cheeky smile.

“Is that an offer you make to all the girls?” You asked with a laugh. “Nah, just the ones I fancy,” George admitted.

“You’re sweet, you know that?”

“Now that you mention it...,” he pretended to think, before shooting you a grin, “Yeah I know.”

You laughed and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again as his tongue darted out to swipe across his own bottom lip. You were still stood close, he could - what was it Fred said? He could walk over and snog you.

Your laughter had dropped to a comfortable silence before George broke it, stepping forward so the distance between you became nearly non-existent, “You know, I was thinking, maybe we can- or I could- can I-”

“Kiss me, Georgie” you interrupted his rambling.

“Oh bloody hell- yeah absolutely,” he breathed as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him and crashing his lips to yours. Your hands made their way around his neck as he slowly turned you to press you against the nearest wall, one of his hands on your waist as the other cupped your jaw to better angle himself.

He sighed happily as you tugged at strands of his hair, the hand that was on your waist moving slightly so it gripped the back of your hip, pulling you closer to him.

You pulled away a little to take a breath and before you knew it he was kissing you again, showing you how long he’d waited for this moment.

“Hey Y/n?” He said in a low tone as you pulled away, pressing another kiss to your swollen lips before resting his forehead against yours. “Yes Georgie?”

“You make my heart skip a beat,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “It took you all that time to come up with that?”

“In my defence, I had you - looking like you do - in front of me, being all distracting. And then you let me kiss you. You try coming up with something better,” George scoffed playfully, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Oh I could easily beat you at this game,” you replied immediately, grinning up at him. His mouth dropped open a little and his eyes lit up, staring at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky,

“Merlin, Fred was right: Marry me?”

#george #george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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skaylanphear · 3 years

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Hi there! Do you have any advice on improving traction towards a fanwork/fic? I love writing—and it's not for notoriety by any means—but having validation and feedback also feels nice (I hope that's not conceited). What would you recommend to someone without a large audience/follower base? I do "advertise" on tumblr when my work is written/updated on AO3. How did your journey start? Thank you!

This is an interesting question and I doubt most people are going to like the answers, but here we go:

So, first and foremost, you need to be realistic about why you're creating in the first place. If you're doing work in a fandom that is older, where content has stopped coming out, or that is simply smaller, you're not going to get much engagement, period. There will, of course, be activity in these fandoms, but it will be far less and the people involved—while they may view your work—will be less likely to comment/spread it around simply because there's not much going on. So if you're creating in that sort of environment (which can be a really good environment if you're looking for something chill with no pressure), then you have to be prepared for low engagement, even if the people you do meet and who are willing to talk about your work are more regularly in your sphere. You can probably make better/closer friends in these sorts of fandoms, if you're willing to try.

But, on the other end of this, if you're coming into a huge fandom late, it's also going to be harder to wade through the massive following to get your stuff out there. For example, in both the Miraculous and Sk8 fandom, I started work pretty early on, when the shows were still gaining traction, and so my "name" as a creator gained traction parallel to that growth, as opposed to when I started writing in the Voltron fandom. With Voltron, I came in super late and so what few fics I had that did gain traction took a lot longer to get there because people already had their fav content creators in the fandom, etc. It's not impossible to get popular in this situation—far from it—but it does take longer.

You'll also benefit from having finished works early on in a fandom's lifespan, at least with writing. This is because there's less competition for views and so more people will be filtered to your work, initially. This means that you have a better chance of getting those comments and kudos. Having a finished work increases this engagement because people look for finished works before works in progress. Generally, the length of a fic doesn't matter much for popularity, so long as it's DONE. When I was writing in the ML fandom, quite a few of my earlier fics were shorter, and they compete in popularity with my longer fics, because people care more about having a finished story, not a long story. That's why when it came to Only Practice Makes Perfect in the Sk8 fandom, I worked hard to get that shit done, because it was the most popular story I had in the fandom and I decided—like an idiot—to make it a long fic. Which, yeah, means people probably love it/remember it more in the long run, but if I hadn't finished it in 2 to 3 months, I'd have lost considerable traction as far as making a name within the fandom.

This leads into one of the most important points, if not THE MOST IMPORTANT point in gaining an audience—consistency. If you do want to be a successful creator, you Have To Be Consistent. This is the most difficult hurdle for all creators, and it is oftentimes impossible to make happen. If you want to aim for professionalism, which a lot of fandom creators don't care about (which is fine), then consistency is how you get there. Nobody wants to read a fic or follow an artist who doesn't stick to creating what they start (RIP all my unfinished works and the people who left me as a result, LOL). Using my most recent works as an example, I very, very, very consistently updated Only Practice Makes Perfect multiple times a week. To the point where people got comfortable expecting it, which is the key variable here. When people become comfortable that you will regularly create content, they not only stick around, but will be more interactive with you and your work. Nobody likes the disappointment of getting involved with a work only for that work to rarely get updates. Most people don't have the attention span to care. I'll admit, if I read a fic that's not finished and the writer takes one week to update, then one week, then THREE weeks, I probably will, like, forget about it. That's just life.

The best thing you can do is schedule. And again, this is the HARDEST thing to do, because it holds the creator to a deadline. Most people who create in fandoms don't want that kind of pressure—and that's fine. I go back and forth on when I have scheduled releases and when I don't, depending on what I'm aiming to do. But if you to retain your audience, telling them that you will update a work regularly on such and such a day and such and such a time, it creates something for them to remember. If they're invested in your work, they will think, "oh, it's Friday, that means such and such is coming out with something new." But, with that in mind, you also have to commit to a schedule that people will remain invested in. Which basically means you can't put things out more than a week away from each other, unless you're really, really famous, lol. If I told people I was going to go on a two week update schedule, I would lose most of my audience. But a week is long enough for people to both still remember and anticipate. That's just how the scheduling of the world works. And if you're an artist that's working on a big project, then you have to share progress, or pieces of what you're doing on a regular basis. That's what generates "buzz" and keeps you relevant. And, yeah, that's a really hard schedule to commit to, because it's a lot of work. BUT this consistency is where you see people being successful. Popular youtubers may not have gained their popularity by being consistent, but most sure do retain it that way. And again, there are outlying exceptions, but they generally ARE exceptions.

Speaking of hard work, here's probably the second hardest thing to accomplish—you have to be prolific. Especially as a writer. You have to write A LOT if you want to gain an audience. And yeah, that means you have to work, a lot. I love my work, so I enjoy that "grind," and I also have developed a lot of strategies to work around writer's block and every other obstacle that tends to catch people up. I work in a very professional manner—I do outlines, and drafts, and plan. I do a lot of stuff that people who do this kind of thing for fun can't be bothered with (and that's fine), but that's because I find it to be what works best in creating an efficient environment. I'm also very, very NOT lazy, lol. I was raised in an environment where you have to work for everything that you want. My parents didn't buy me my first computer, or snowboard, or what have you. We were tight on money and if I wanted something, they couldn't help me—I had to get that shit on my own. And I also grew up on a farm, where hard work was a staple of how you did things. You did things the right way, even if it was the hard way. You can't cut corners and it's the same with this. If you want it, you have to actually do the work, that's it. Some people get lucky with popularity, most don't. Most famous actors didn't become well-known off their first efforts, they had to keep trying and keep working and then they have to continue to do that to stay relevant. So if that doesn't sound great to you, then you might want to not focus on your audience and just create because you enjoy it, lol. Sometimes that's what I do too, when I don't wanna deal with the pressure.

Moving on, here's another point that nobody is going to like. Simply put, you also have to be good at what you do. I think some people don't realize that I've been writing fic for over fifteen years. I currently have nearly 2 millions words worth of fics on AO3 and that doesn't include a majority of the stuff I've ever written. I practice A LOT. I write every day. And I'll tell ya, when I started out in middle school, my stuff was not good. But I worked hard, I ignored the hate, and I kept going. That is the only way you will ever get better at anything. There's no quick way to become a better writer, or artist. And a vast majority of people are only going to pay attention to your stuff if it's quality work. Getting to that point is a process, on top of then creating stuff that fits into popular molds. Not only am I good at what I do (and I don't care how arrogant that sounds—I've worked my ass off), but when it comes to fandoms, I rarely write "rare pairs" and "crack ships." Generally, if it's popular, that's where I am. That makes a big difference and I honestly don't have sympathy for people who write rare pairs and such and then complain about lack of engagement. You knew what you were getting into (it's mostly the Miraculous fandom that gave me this bitterness). If you're not writing what people WANT to read, then your audience is simply going to be smaller. And that audience doesn't owe you their attention, no matter how frustrating it is or how good your work is. I could be the best writer in the world, but if I'm writing RekixCherry fic, I have nobody to blame but myself when nobody reads it. BUT if that's your passion, and writing a certain unpopular thing makes you happy, then, again, you need to not be concerned with traction and your audience.

The last point I'll make is that it matters HOW you present yourself online. A good chunk of the well-known creators in any fandom are, simply put, older people. And those that aren't, and are able to connect with those older creators, have generally created a bubble around themselves of maturity and, like, of being nice, lol. A lot of creators are skittish these days, and if you're an asshole (anti) or fight a lot over stupid shit, you may get a bigger audience, but you will isolate yourself from other creators. And this is important because oftentimes it is your exposure to other creators that will get your work circulating. The reason I got popular in the ML fandom? I wrote a short angst fic and a really popular artist shared it/talked about it and the rest was history. But if I'd had a habit of being an asshole, probably wouldn't have happened. And, granted, I'm not saying don't voice your opinions, but if you're loud all the time, it does turn people off. Especially creators because they are oftentimes the ones being attacked. They don't want to pull more of that negative bullshit into their lives. I'll admit, when I was in the ML fandom, I was down for a fight, but then that's what people came to expect, and it probably did turn others off, and then when I didn't fight, or didn't think the way my audience thought I should, it, again, turned people off. It's really not worth it unless being that type of person IS your platform.

So, that's all the advice I can give, I suppose. And even if you do all this stuff, that still doesn't mean you're going to be popular. At the end of the day, the thing that I stick to is this—I do what I want, I love what I do, and I work hard. If I'm in a position to worry about all that other stuff, then sure, I do, but otherwise… There's no easy way to become popular and, quite frankly, it's better to just "live" working hard and being a decent person than it is to focus on all this bullshit. I've created a working environment where I function within these "points" quite naturally, so it's not something I think about (except for schedules, lol). Sometimes I get popular in fandoms, sometimes I don't. At the end of the day, it comes down to how much work you're willing to do, because you will always be giving more than you are getting back, so you have to at least enjoy what you're doing.

Seriously, just do it because you love it. And if the pressure of everything above is something you don't love (I like a good, high pressure situation, lol), then don't do it that way—it's not worth the grief.

#skaylanphear replies #anonymous

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remmushound · 3 years

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I wonder how 2012 Raph feel to see Rise Leonardo acting like a teenager and not a Leader and vice versa bet pennies to pizza Raph is Surprised that Leonardo is not the oldest in his family

@assanmaharielsreblogs

“Hey red dude.”

Raph flinched as a balled up wad of paper hit him on the back of the head. He growled and returned to polishing his sai.

“Heeeeeeeey.”

Another ball struck him. Raph roared his rage and spun around.

“WHAT?!”

Leonardo was standing there smirking a dumb smirk, balling up another paper and tossing it at Raph’s face. Raph just let it hit him as he seethed.

“You just gonna sit there all day?” Leonardo asked.

“What?” Raph scoffed. “You wanna train?”

“We trained yesterday?” Leonardo scoffed. “It’s break day.”

“Then get off my back.” Raph huffed and turned his back on Leonardo, “and leave me alone.”

“But you’ve just been there cleaning.” Leonardo disregarded Raph’s disgruntled attitude and walked over, leaning over his shoulder, “doesn’t seem very fun.”

“You don’t polish your sword?” Raph growled.

“Well I do, but it’s not like I enjoy it! Well, looking at my reflection is a good plus.” Leonardo smirked and pointed to himself.

“You sound just as vain as my Leo.” Raph huffed.

“What? That uptight know it all? No way!” Leonardo scoffed and waved his arms in dismissal, “he’s more like my Raph! If my Raph was a total fun-hating dork. All your brother’s talked about since he got here was ‘Shredder destroying my city’ this and ‘very important mission’ that. The guy really needs to chill. It’ll get done eventually.”

Raph looked up at Leonardo with a baffled look. “You... don’t think it’s important?”

“Of course I do! Just like, chill though.” Leonardo waved his hand, “if it’s important, we’ll get to it.”

Raph shook his head. The thought of a Leo not wanting to get a mission done as quick and effective as possible, a Leo that wasn’t constantly on his brothers shells about getting work done. It just seemed improbable.

“So like, anyway, wanna come skate or something?”

“Skate?” Leo hadn’t extended the offer to skate with him since, well, ever!

“Yeah.” Leonardo shrugged. “I got an extra board if you want it. Donnie made it specially for box shells, so you should be fine on it.”

“So... it’s Mikey’s board?”

“Don makes him a bunch of spares, it’ll be fine!” Leonardo grabbed Raph around the shoulders and lifted him up, guiding him toward where the skateboards were stored. “And it seems like you could really use the break.”

“And is there a catch or?”

“The catch is:” Leonardo pulled his own board out from behind his shell and pointed it at Raph. “You have to try and keep up with me.”

Raph grinned. “You are so on.”

~~~

It was harder to keep up with the slider than Raph had anticipated. When on long stretches, Leonardo could quickly outpace him, but it didn’t take long for Raph to notice how clumsy and unsure Leonardo was when he took the curves, always slipping and having to catch himself with his hand to keep up some sort of momentum and not fall flat on his shell. Still, the younger turtle kept in the lead even without his portals and was at the endpoint waiting when Raph finally rolled up.

“Nice skating...” Raph panted, leaning onto his knees as he caught his breath. “Little loose on those turns though.”

Leonardo smirked. “Still beat ya didn’t i?”

Raph shrugged. “Fair point.”

Raph crouched on his knees to rest, and Leonardo sat criss-cross in front of him.

“So, like, what’s the deal with you and your Raph?” Raph asked.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I mean, haven’t you ever wanted to, yknow, take leadership from him? Like every other Leo in the multiverse?”

Leonardo shrugged. “Not really. I mean, Raph says he’s our leader, but it’s honestly more of a team effort. Raph is just usually the best fit. I take lead sometimes when we need some more strategy, and sometimes even Donnie takes control. It’s not just one of us at all times. That’d be dumb.”

Raph doubted the Turtles words, despite how much sense they Made. “Mikey ever been leader?”

“Ehh... debatable. He went on his first solo mission where he was the one calling the shots, and once when me and Don and Raph were turned into babies by a mutant jellyfish named Jellybean, Mikey took initiative and turned us back to normal. Oh! And he’s the whole reason we got into the underground city to begin with. He has a really good memory, and he’s super creative coming up with ways to escape.”

“Mikey?” Raph scoffed, “really?”

Leonardo looked over with complete sincerity in his eyes. “Totally. Like I said, we all do our parts, even if Raph’s our self-proclaimed leader.” Leonardo turned away to examine his nails under the moonlight and begin to pick them free of grime.

“How’d that happen anyway?”

“Eh, he’s the oldest. You know how older brothers are.”

Raph blinked. “Wait? You’re not the oldest?”

Leonardo laughed. “No? Why would you think I am?”

Raph gave a self conscious shrug. “I dunno... i just figured it was the same as me and mine...”

“Aren’t you all the same age though?”

“Well— yeah— technically.” Raph admitted, “but we all came up with a birth order to, y’know, try and find some individuality...”

“It’s biological for us. We aren’t the same species, so we all hatched at different times. Raph hatched first, then Don, then me, and then Mikey. It was within days of each other but those days made a lot of difference.”

“Wait— YOU’RE NOT EVEN SECOND OLDEST?!” Raph tried to hide his laughter

“Nope.” Leonardo snickered, pointing to his chest, “child number three and still the favorite! You?”

“I’m a third child too!” Raph practically beamed.

“No kidding.” Leonardo laughed, gently knocking into Raph’s shoulder. “See? We do got a thing or two in common!” He leaned against the stone of a closed stairwell and sighed as he looked up toward the starry sky. “Believe me, Hermano, when I say this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #Leonardo #Leo #raphael #Raph #Tmnt one shots

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meaningofmischief · 3 years

Text

Evil, Lying Scourge

Set immediately after the battle in the Timekeepers’ chamber. Loki and Renslayer go toe-to-toe as Loki creates the ultimately confronting conditions to force the truth of Sylvie’s Nexus Event from Renslayer.

The truth is devastating - can Loki and Sylvie survive it?

Loki and Sylvie were traumatized - that was near the only way to put it.

Hours ago they had resigned themselves to die together on an exploding moon.

They had been forcibly yanked into the clutches of the TVA at the last possible minute, restrained, separated, each subject to individual psychological tortures as all their remaining tatters of stability and freedom and friendship were ripped away from them one by one. Both prepared to meet their ends together again, and now even their impossible escape was ice cold comfort as they both examined in horror the head of the mindless android they had taken to be one of the three all-powerful Timekeepers.

Not to mention the barely suppressed passion each felt for the other that roiled away like a wildfire between them - burning both the longer it went unacknowledged.

‘Then who,’ Loki’s voice broke for stress, ‘created the TVA?’. Sylvie felt choked by a sudden rage. Hurling the head of the android viciously across the floor of the chamber, she spat: ‘I thought this was it.’ They both had, of course.

A low moan startled them and they whipped around, mirrors of defense for the next attack, but the despised Ravonna Renslayer still lay passed out cold from the hefty blow Sylvie had dealt her not a minute before.

B-15, the undisputed saviour of the pair of them, had finally regained consciousness after the massive strike to the head she had received at the hands of one of the Timekeepers’ specialist defense team. They had not treated her mercifully while she was down either, delivering unnecessarily cruel, wounding kicks to the woman they saw as the traitor in their midst.

Sylvie reacted as if by instinct and rushed straight to B-15’s side, running practiced hands down the Hunter’s limbs to assess for fractures or broken bones. Loki could only marvel - for all her uncompromising toughness, Sylvie’s unconscious impulse was to compassion, a quality that he found at times miserably difficult to access, which frustrated him to no end, especially when he considered how yet more painful Sylvie’s past had been to his own.

‘Nothing broken.’ Sylvie’s soft reassurance to B-15 snapped Loki out of his reverie. ‘But those arseholes didn’t go easy on you by any means. Do you think you can walk?’ There was a flash of fire in the resilient Hunter’s eyes and she opened her mouth to deliver a stinging retort before Sylvie broke out into a warm smile and there was a brief moment of kinship between these two fearsome warriors.

‘Still,’ continued Sylvie bluntly, ‘I’m not having you risk your life to save us only to pass out in one of these obscure corridors where no-one’ll find you for the next week. I’m gonna see you to the infirmary and you can’t stop me.’ She was busy helping B-15 struggle painfully to her feet when Loki murmured, gravelly, ‘Sylvie. Is that wise?’

Sylvie glowered. Whatever difficult feelings she had for this man, he was not about to tell her what to do. Luckily B-15 interceded, voice tight with pain, but determined nonetheless: ‘I know how we can do this. Variant -’, she checked herself, ‘L-Loki. Take out Ravonna’s Tempad from her jacket.’

Loki’s skin crawled but he nevertheless did as she commanded, crouching down to where Ravonna still lay knocked out, reaching inside her jacket to retrieve the rectangular Tempad, surprisingly heavy in his palm. He handed it uncertainly to B-15 who snapped it open and began pressing buttons with a confident ease that seemed to indicate she knew exactly what she was doing. ‘There,’ she said smugly after 30 seconds or so, ‘the warrant for my capture has been deleted. And don’t worry,’ her gaze flitted over to Loki and in that brief glance Loki knew that B-15 had perceptively ascertained the depth of his attachment to Sylvie, ‘nothing is going to happen to that Variant on my watch. The store cupboard for this unit is right next to the infirmary, so we’ll get her a uniform to act as a disguise on the way back.’ B-15’s eyes narrowed, and Loki knew she was fighting hard what must be a tremendous amount of pain. She handed the Tempad back to Loki and he felt incredibly humbled by the action. Sylvie helped her very gently to the elevator door. ‘Promise me,’ B-15 whispered through gritted teeth as she turned to face Loki one last time, ‘that you’ll bring this place to the ground.’ Loki nodded once, slow and solemn - forcing himself to believe that such a thing was possible when so much lay still unknown. He and Sylvie locked gazes, and Loki longed to cross to the elevator doors in a handful of strides, hold her so close to him, take her face in his hands… Stop. He forced himself to focus right now, for all of their sakes. He only held her gaze as the elevator doors closed, and then they were gone.

Loki exhaled, and it came out mostly as a sob. He closed his eyes to withhold the tears which he felt welling in their sea-green depths. He had held himself together all this while for Sylvie, but now, standing alone in the cold, misty chamber - he felt assaulted by uncertainty and fear. And sorrow. He so wished for Mobius, for his friend, who was always so grounded and strong - a master of strategy. Loki’s gift for style and verbal artistry were rendered useless in a situation such as this and he felt utterly incompetent and broken.

‘You can be whatever - whoever - you wanna be. Even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different.’

Loki’s eyes snapped open, shining with salt water and yet never so determined as now.

No.

He had the ability to stand up and make his own choices, and that started now. Not his first act of defiance against whatever cruel authority had created this suffocating institution of control, and certainly not his last.

He knew what he needed to do, and he needed to do it for Sylvie - while he had this rapidly diminishing window and before they set about trying to achieve the impossible in burning this place to the ground.

And before he told her that he loved her.

Loki stooped and grimly retrieved his Time Collar where it lay on the floor after B-15 had freed him of it. He was going to need it, unfortunately. He opened the Tempad and after a short while as he got to grips with its functions, a Time Door with a subtle magenta sheen opened up next to him.

Panicked breathing behind him.

Good, she was awake.

Loki wasted no time, seizing Renslayer none too gently by the lapel of her jacket. She foggily tried to resist him, but before her blurry vision had even cleared, she felt the Time Collar wrap constrictingly around her neck, felt Loki haul her to her feet and unceremoniously push her through the Time Door ahead of him.

The Asgardian bedchamber was light and airy and warm - a stark contrast to the cool, damp darkness of the place they had emerged from. Loki looked around briefly, instantly wistful, recognising the arch of the ceiling, the pristine white marble floor, even smelling the heady summer scents of his old home. It made his heart ache even more - if that was possible at this stage. He was quickly distracted, however, by Ravonna’s wild sprint away from his side. She had regained her full mental capacity now, but was seized by terror at the situation - at the mercy of the Variant and whatever tortures he could concuct for her.

Loki fiercely loathed to play the jailor - even to someone as worthy of harsh treatment as Renslayer - but he needed her attention. He turned the dial of the Time Twister and in an instant Renslayer was back at his side. Though the logical part of Ravonna’s brain knew it was fruitless, she tried to break away from him several more times, just as Loki had tried upon his capture. Eventually Loki seized her by the arm and made her turn to look at the scene before them.

Throughout the chaos the little girl seated on the floor had payed them no heed. Not that she could. This was what the TVA quaintly referred to as an ‘Observant Loop Cell’ - of course obnoxiously abbreviated to OLC. An OLC was designed not to punish prisoners into submission but rather to force them to reflect on situations they had experienced - made to watch those situations over and over and unable to help, hinder or manipulate any of the figures within it.

Loki himself had had no idea what to expect when he had found Variant L1129’s file on Renslayer’s Tempad, and created an OLC of the Variant’s apprehension. He had briefly had a vision of the young, out-of-control Goddess of Mischief, terrorizing Asgard - effecting pain and suffering, destruction and death so devastating that there was no choice but to send up a smoke flare, a Nexus Event. It did not fit in the slightest with what he perceived of Sylvie’s true character, but he could think of no other reasonable explanation. He did certainly not expect this angelic child, playing as any child would, with her toys. Loki felt a pang of unhappiness as he remembered his own childhood days, he never could play nicely. It was all borne of resentment and jealousy: Father would always ensure Thor had the most luxurious selection of toys, and he was anyway keen that both of his sons stopped messing around with playthings as early as possible and go out for battle training with the young sons of Asgardian nobility instead. Where Thor thrived in the competitive, loud environment of the training ground, Loki shrank into himself. Self-conscious, anxious, lacking the warrior’s bulk that all the other boys seemed to possess, the young prince found himself more often than not in a corner with a few books and some of the toys his father scorned - to make up his own stories in his own time. The other boys mocked him endlessly, tore pages out of the books, stole the miniature figurines of Valkyrie and other great warriors. Loki had eventually learned to be as harsh and cruel as they - only his power to hurt came from his intelligence rather than brawn.

This little girl was anything but harsh and cruel, hurt and isolated. Yes, she was alone, but she seemed to relish that independence - making her own stories up in her own time. ‘Dragon swoops towards the palace, but Valkyrie flies over, defeats the dragon and saves Asgard!’ she crowed, face alit at the conclusion of what had evidently been an epic story. Loki couldn’t suppress a small smile, though he knew that any moment there must be some great catastrophe which would set off the Nexus Event. Ravonna seemed to have frozen at his side - both were caught up in their individual perception of the events unfolding before their eyes.

When the golden Time Door opened mere seconds later, Loki gasped in disbelief, gaze flitting around the room and then back to Sylvie as he tried to ascertain what could have caused the Nexus and finding no evidence at all. Ravonna stiffened next to him as they both saw none other than Ravonna Renslayer - or more precisely Hunter A-20 - in clear command of the two Minutemen flanking her, hold out her Tempad before her and certify in a cold, triumphant voice: ‘There’s our variant.’ Sylvie’s eyes were huge and frightened as Renslayer continued without pause: ‘On the authority of the Timekeepers, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline’, as though she were addressing some notorious criminal and not a terrified little girl.

‘Where’s the Nexus?!’ Loki thought, increasingly desperate and distressed as the OLC Renslayer seized Sylvie by her skinny arm and wrenched her towards the Time Door. It all happened very quickly then. The Minutemen set their Reset Charge which immediately began its task of disintegrating Sylvie’s possessions - anything and everything that indicated that she had ever been in this room. Sylvie screamed, high-pitched, shaking in Renslayer’s grasp: ‘Wait!!!’. Loki resisted the urge to run to her aid, knowing it would be completely useless. Then Sylvie and Renslayer gone, followed by the Minutemen, the Time Door snapped shut and Loki and his Renslayer stood facing one another in a deafening silence in the handful of seconds of respite prisoners would receive before the loop started again.

Tears were clouding Loki’s vision, but he blinked them away angrily. ‘Why?’ was the only thing he said - in a voice several octaves below his usual speaking voice. Renslayer shook her head and pressed her lips together, though her chest heaved at the fraught situation. Loki growled softly and resisted the urge to hurt her - to make her talk.

No.

That was what he would have done in the past, he would not descend to such base measures now.

He didn’t need to, the loop was already starting again. Loki felt as though his heart would fairly break in two as he watched the young Sylvie skip into her bedroom, arms full of her toys, setting them out, beginning to play. ‘You’re going,’ he spat at Renslayer ‘to stand here with me and watch this as many times as it takes for you to tell me what the Nexus event was that made you rip an innocent young girl’s life away from her and force her on the run for her entire life. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re going to tell me.’

In reality that wasn’t exactly true - Sylvie and B-15 had almost certainly reached the infirmary by now and if Sylvie made it back to the Timekeepers’ chamber to find it empty, to think that she had been abandoned by her one companion (and perhaps more than that) in the universe… It nearly had Loki sending them both back to the TVA instantly. But Renslayer was breaking already, he could see it, as he forced her to watch the abject cruelty, cruelty at her hands, again and again. By the third viewing, Renslayer’s eyes brimmed with tears and Loki would gladly have wept openly. By the fifth, she started to hyperventilate, made to move away. Loki turned the Time Twister’s dial and she was jarred back into place. On the sixth viewing, just as the OLC Renslayer was about to seize Sylvie, she abruptly screamed: ‘Enough! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you.’

Both breathed out in relief, when Loki pressed the button on the Tempad that cut the loop and everyone in the scene disintegrated immediately. He turned to face her and forced out between his teeth: ‘Do not try to lie to the God of Mischief. You have no idea how acutely I am attuned to falsehoods. You will tell me in every horrifying detail about this Nexus Event, or I will leave you in this Time Cell and bury this Tempad in the deepest crevice of the TVA where no one will ever, ever find it. Now TELL ME.’

Renslayer took a deep breath to steady herself, closed her eyes and spoke with a surprisingly steady voice: ‘The Variant was deviating from her role on the Sacred Timeline.’ Loki snarled: ‘Obviously! What was the deviation?’. Renslayer opened her eyes and locked her chocolate brown eyes with his green ones. ‘A Loki,’ she said, slowly, as though choosing her words carefully, ‘does not get to travel the kind of path that that Variant was on.’ Loki rushed to intercede, but Renslayer narrowed her eyes, warning him not to interrupt her.

‘It was a mistake that she ever got as far as she did. Our technology advances every day - it’s now so accurate that we can nip burgeoning Nexus events like this one in the bud.’ Loki was amazed that she could speak in such clinical terms about the organisation that had only very recently been revealed to have three mindless robots as its figureheads. But Renslayer’s voice ran with conviction which only strengthened as she continued: ‘Lokis are so very tricky. It’s an incredible rarity that any being is allowed so much leeway as they have been, and we have all had to suffer the consequences of that. You see, due to your natures as shapeshifters, this Variant being born the Goddess rather than the God of Mischief was no cause for a Nexus flare. But of course in the archaic society that you are raised in, the ridiculous difference in gender is of massive significance. Recall that only male heirs are permitted to succeed the throne of Asgard. In your case, informing you of your adoption would have caused colossal problems for King Odin - that would have had ramifications across Asgard, not to mention potential rebellion from you yourself. Odin was under no illusions of how much more intelligent you were than his legitimate son, and how that would have fused with the arrogance of princehood to create the ultimate cuckoo within the sparrow’s nest - an utterly unacceptable scenario. Far better to keep that knowledge from you, even if it did mean that you grew up confused and resentful - emotions Odin could easily ignore. Far better to have you treated as the bastard son, who he would insidiously try to manipulate to his own ideals, who might possibly one, highly unlikely day, be fit for the throne should Thor be killed in battle before his heir was old enough to succeed the throne.’

‘Of course, for a girl, Odin had no such concerns. He took the child from Jotunheim out of some scrap of pity, and because she could prove useful in negotiating with the Jotuns at a later date. A princess had no chance of succeeding the throne, not to mention an illegitimate one, who would likely be married off to some lowborn noble as soon as she had come of age. So Odin told the Variant of her adoption. And somehow, ludicrously, that knowledge failed to break the Variant, it only made her stronger. She took pride in her differences from her family and the rest of Asgard, her inclination to independence rather than company, her delight of mischief. Where she should have been enraged, embittered and vengeful, she was courageous, compassionate and creative.’

‘Excuse me,’ Loki hissed, interrupting Renslayer’s monologue, ‘where she SHOULD have been?’. Despite the fact that she had found herself at his mercy, Renslayer sneered at him. ‘Of course-’ she continued, seeming to try to gain the upper hand over him with the knowledge she was revealing, ‘a Loki is an evil, lying scourge, like you. Where would be the heroes of the Timeline without the villains? That Variant had a role to play, same as you, same as all of us, and she went off the path. Whoever heard of a heroic Goddess of Mischief?’. Ravonna’s voice cracked slightly on the last sentence as she bore witness to Loki’s murderous expression. ‘So what you’re saying,’ he replied with devastating calm ‘is that Sylvie lost her home, her family, her life, because she would one day grow up to be kind and just, to be her own person? Oh, no one is truly good or truly bad, but the TVA decrees that not to be so.’ His voice grew more intense and Renslayer shrank before him. ‘Because whatever devil puppetmaster is controlling the TVA, they like to have their play made interesting - with villains to cause destruction and heroes to save the day?’. Renslayer was at a loss for words, but Loki had heard enough. He pressed a button on the Time Twister he held and Ravonna sank ungraciously to the floor, unconscious once more. One of the functions the delightful Twister could enact was to reverse the prisoner’s physiological state - mainly meant for various exotic creatures the TVA brought in, that could effect all sorts of trouble as a result of their innate biology, but in this case merely necessary to give Loki a moment to take in what he had just experienced. He couldn’t quite do it.

Only concern for Sylvie forced Loki to action, and he opened up the door back to the Timekeepers’ chamber using the Tempad, dragging the unconscious Ravonna back through with him. Despite what he had said, he would never consign anyone to spend their life trapped in one of the hideous Time Cells. He removed her Time Collar too, and flung it to a far corner of the chamber, repulsed that it had had to come to him using one of the TVA’s disgusting methods of control to get the information he needed.

His thoughts left Renslayer entirely behind as the elevator doors opened and Sylvie emerged not a moment too soon, yanking off the breastplate and trousers of the TVA Minutemen she had worn as a disguise over her usual black top and trousers. Now that Sylvie’s purpose had been achieved, she too seemed utterly spent as she staggered over to where Loki stood staring at her. Both failed to speak for several moments and then Loki rasped, with a voice that sounded unused for days, ‘Sylvie. Sylvie, I need to tell you something.’

Sylvie’s deep blue eyes widened, her heart began to pound like a wild drum in her chest. ‘What?’ she could only say as Loki struggled to find the words for what he had just learned.

When it was over, they both started to cry.

Loki and Sylvie had never been ones for excessive, histrionic displays of emotion. They had had to armour themselves in toughness and charm and mischief and wit all their lives despite the turbulence that roared inside of them.

And now here the both of them stood, silent but for the ragged intake of breath as they struggled to bring themselves under some semblance of control.

Eventually they stopped. Each observed the other’s tear-streaked face.

‘Sylvie...’ Loki said again. The word seemed to ground him and her at the same time.

‘Not another pep talk please.’ Sylvie uttered with a weak attempt at humour, that fell flat instantly with the sheer desperation in her tone.

‘No. I have to tell you something else.’

Sylvie wasn’t sure that she could handle anything else.

Loki stepped closer to her, and avoided her gaze, his breathing picking up again.

Sylvie felt herself instinctively mirroring him, and forced herself to focus.

Loki looked her in the eyes.

‘We will figure this out.’

It really was too much.

‘How do you know that?’ How was there any certainty about anything anymore?

‘Because, uh -’ Loki’s near-gasping for air cut him off and he twisted his sweaty hands together.

‘Well, back on Lamentis…’ It was all too impossible to explain. Loki gestured helplessly, trying to find the beginnings of some clever story that had never failed to come to him with infinite ease before and now completely failed him.

He gave up. His arms dropped to his sides.

‘This is new for me. Um -’ Loki’s heart raced in his chest and the sound seemed amplified, obliterating his thoughts. They were a tangle of grief and passion and...and love - a tangle that was impossible to reconcile.

Loki turned his hands towards his heart, as though it could speak for him.

‘What?’ Sylvie breathed, hardly daring to speak, her own heart pulsing just as intensely.

They would figure this out. They would. Some very deep and very soulful part in both of them, inextricably linking one to the other, knew it. Loki clasped her upper arms, barely believing himself.

I love you Sylvie. Sylvie I love you. Sylvie I will always love you - you beautiful spirit of mischief. Sylvie, we are free and we will figure this out. I love you Sylvie, I love you.

‘If it were now to die, ‘twere now to be most happy.’ thought Loki, even as he felt the icy touch of Ravonna Renslayer’s weapon seize his heart and rip its chill through his body, as Sylvie watched him disintegrate right before her eyes which never left his - as he was transported to some realm of chaos where the God of Mischief would navigate the labyrinth back to his Goddess so that he could speak those words unsung softly in her ear before bending down to her lips and watching the TVA burn.

- Inspired by a fantastic suggestion from asgardian1112! More suggestions for future stories gladly welcome!

#loki #lokiseries #sylki #sylvie x loki #sylvie laufeydottir

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (5/10)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4

The golf course was big, big enough that his Levi’s first instinct was to contemplate the size.

He had attempted quick calculations that got nowhere, only detailed enough for him to realize, golf courses were a total waste of space. They were large green spaces that could have held happy pedestrians, happy families and maybe a few more houses. Yet, they were areas which only housed a few players at a time.

And how many times had he repeated variations of that soft tirade to himself since they arrived there that morning?

Maybe he was being a little too harsh, he thought to himself a few times.

Then he realized, maybe he would have been nicer, if he had managed to shake off the last bouts of sleepiness having woken up at five in the morning. Maybe he would have been nicer if the grass didn’t crunch under him in such an unflattering manner. Maybe he would have been nicer if the only pair of shoes he had brought with him to the country club weren’t a clean shade of white.

And maybe he would have been nicer if golf wasn’t such a deceptively easy sport.

He would have definitely been nice if he had been in a better mood that morning. And maybe he would have been in a better mood if Zeke hadn’t been just a little too amused at his apparent discomforts.

He was sure the only thing he had to do was hit the ball with a golf club and hit it a few more times until he reached the hole. To hell with strokes and strategy, there was no winning against Zeke.

He wasn’t at all dispirited. He wasn’t an idiot either. It was a valid conclusion to stumble upon after realizing that hitting the small white ball balanced on a tee wasn’t as straightforward as they made it look on Youtube.

“Is this your first time playing Ackerman?” Zeke asked. He was definitely more cordial than yesterday. The past two minutes of accidentally hitting air instead of the ball though had Levi a little more perceptive of the minute movements on Zeke’s face, the sliver of a smile and the slight raise of eyebrows.

Next to him was Hange. He had a snuck a glance at her a few times and unfortunately, her expression was unreadable.

“I haven’t played in years,” Levi said. In fact, he had never played at all, let alone set foot on a golf course. After rambling on about tea time for the past few minutes, expressing genuine excitement at the prospect of ‘tea time,’ Levi realized he had two embarrassments to pick from. He could admit to having never played golf in his life and potentially lose brownie points with Hange or he could just subtly imply that maybe he hadn’t played for so long that he had gotten a little rusty.

Very rusty. Levi feigned a look of surprise and a nod of his head as he accidentally hit the air instead of the golf ball for the third time that morning.

The golf club was just a little too thin and the ball was just a little too round, Levi justified. And you never played golf in your life. His conscience reminded him.

“Maybe you should do some practice shots before you move on to the actual course,” Erwin suggested.

Levi had made two lucky yet still very sloppy shots. “It’s fine, I can keep playing,” he said. I just have to get my swing back. He would have added if guilt and shame hadn’t been such a looming emotion.

“Or you could try to do some practice swings before you hit the ball. It can help fix your aim,” Hange added, her tone was evidence enough of her good intentions.

Zeke shrugged. “Or you could just keep trying to hit. If you wanna waste your strokes on that, I see no problem with you swinging.”

“Waste… my strokes?” Levi asked. He had read on strokes that night. To win a golf tournament, the player had to hit the ball into all eighteen holes in the golf course.

It was a very simple sport which turned out to have more nuances than Levi had bothered to check the night before.

“Well, if you try to swing and miss the ball, that counts as one stroke,” Hange explained matter-of-factly.

“Wait… so that means I have other strokes… Aside from those I counted?”

“Ideally yes,” Zeke said. “By that confused look on your face, I’m assuming though that you haven’t been counting them.”

Levi’s eyes had been too wide and maybe he had been blinking just a little too fast. He looked down, pretending to focus on the small white ball in front of him. From his peripherals, he was watching Zeke. When he realized he had no control of his expression, he decided he wasn’t going to look up until Zeke looked away from him. “Should I be counting them?” Levi mustered.

“Ideally yes.” Zeke repeated, in the exact same tone as a second ago. “But you know Levi… if you haven’t played in a long time, then maybe we could allow you to make as many air shots as you want. It makes for some great practice. Think of it as training wheels on a bike or those floaties in a pool.”

“I don’t need a handicap.” I’m not a beginner. Levi would have added if the subtle weight of that white lie wasn’t hampering him at that moment.

“Well, I don’t wanna win against someone who is averaging scores way over par either,” Zeke said. “It’s not fun.”

“Over par?” Levi pulled his scoresheet out of his pocket. Until a moment ago, he had been proud of the fact that he had managed to hit the ball into the hole. The clack of the ball against the walls of the hole before it sank into the bottom had lightened his mood a bit. The woosh of the club, the sound of the bottom hitting the tea had been oddly satisfying.

At first glance, ‘over par’ had sounded like a compliment or something neutral at the least. The wry smile Hange had given him though had him nitpicking his scorecard.

“Well, the last five holes were par-three holes,” Hange said. She wasn’t lying, just below the table on Levi’s score card were a row of numbers next to the word ‘par.’

“Meaning any golfer worth their salt would finish them in three strokes,” Zeke added.

The numbers just above the three were all above tens and Levi had been proud of the eight, strangely proud. His mind had been petty enough to bring with it flashbacks of Erwin and Zeke hitting more than three strokes in some holes. The more logical side of his mind though was arguing two much more reasonable points. Firstly, Zeke and Erwin had never gone above ten strokes, he was sure of that. Secondly, they never completely missed the ball mid swing.

“Well, there’s still progress,” Hange came up from behind him and pointed at the scorecard. “You have a seventeen for the first hole… but the second ones are nearer to ten and look, you have an eight here,” Hange said pointing at the fourth column. She looked at Zeke and Erwin standing just a few feet away. “He’s just getting used to it. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, we still have thirteen more holes,” Erwin said. “You have a lot of time to get your swing back.”

Thirteen holes? Right, a full golf course had eighteen holes. He remembered reading about that. He didn’t expect to be completely exhausted after the first five though.

***

It didn’t get easier. In fact, it only got harder and the scorecard was a good guide. The numbers next to the word ‘par’ only got bigger and bigger the farther they walked and Levi was also starting to fear losing the ball among shrubs or having it just plop aimlessly into one of the bodies of water that were scattered across the greens.

If it falls, does someone have to swim in and get it? It was a ridiculous question to occupy himself with then. The country club was occupied by the richest of the rich, no one would bother to even get a golf ball that falls into a pond. Still, the past few holes had been nothing but surprises. Levi had admitted to himself early on that he was utterly lost. He was even starting to lose trust in his quick ability to deduce and answer such ridiculous questions. He was aware enough to know it was dumb enough to ask anyway.

“You’re making par-fives look easy. It’s definitely your years in the driving range paying off now.” Zeke was definitely not talking to him. His voice was too gentle, too reverent that for a good few moments, Levi almost believed it had been Erwin talking.

“Zeke mentioned that you had a good range,” Erwin said, making the contrast of Zeke and Erwin’s voice all the more distinct.

“It’s the closest thing we can get to golf back in the city,” Hange said. “Besides, it’s a good way to let off some…” She chose that moment to hit the ball with one fell swoosh, one flick of the wrist. “Steam!” For a few seconds after, she was breathing a little harder.

Although Levi tried, he could barely make out the white ball among the greens a good few yards away.

“You always had a lot of steam to let out,” Zeke quipped.

“And that’s why the driving range is my favorite part,” Hange said, a smile playing at her lips, her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled. And the object of such a cute and playful expression had been Zeke Jaeger. Still, it was a cute expression Levi had managed to enjoy from a distance.

Hange was smiling more. Her eyes were brighter and she was walking with longer, more confident strides than a while ago. As if she was in her natural habitat.

It had taken a little longer than a few minutes to catch up to the ball she had just thrown yards away. Levi was counting and everything happened a little too quickly. Hange got the hole in three solid strokes.

“An eagle! That’s your fourth bird today." Surprisingly, Zeke had the ability to be a bundle of pride, particularly when it was Hange next to him, and his arm was around her again.

"What can I say? I've been practicing," Hange responded.

Levi turned to the sky above him, searching the blue for some familiar shadow. No birds. Of course it would be a metaphor.

A metaphor which a half hour binge of golf videos did not prepare him for.

Levi was tempted to do a quick Google search then. His phone was safely tucked in his golf bag though and Hange had been too good of a view to miss.

The strides remained confident. Even crouched down dropping the ball on the tee, Hange had been domineering, confident. She continued to hit ball after ball in pounces and swishes.

Like an eagle. A condor. An albatross. All prowling, ready to swoop down at their prey.

The bird metaphors never ended. When Levi listened closely, he started to realize, Erwin and Zeke never actually stopped mentioning terms like eagles, birdies and boogies. When it was Hange’s turn to hit, Zeke was always mentioning a bird.

Birdies. Eagles. Albatrosses. “You think you can manage an ostrich?” Zeke asked. That was the first time Levi heard the word ostrich in the past few hours and such an ungraceful animal mentioned among all other graceful predators had him letting out a cough in surprise.

“You know, no one’s ever managed it. I’ve never done a condor in my life either,” Hange said.

“This is your last chance to get one for this course,” Zeke said.

“I’m not aiming for one,” Hange said.

Levi only had to look at the scorecard to realize that was their last hole for the day. He stared down a little lower to see a six under the empty box.

A par-six hole. So any golfer worth their salt would get the ball to the hole in six strokes. All the numbers next to the par were the numbers he should have been aiming for. Looking up at his own score, he was reminded that his numbers were usually twice or even thrice the numbers in the par row.

He thought back to Erwin, Zeke and Hange who had waited right behind him while he missed swings, missed holes when his balls were only inches away and concluded for himself that the numbers were a very reasonable estimate. He was still very much over par.

A below par golfer. It was a shitty joke. But.when the only thing keeping him following the three seasoned golfers was his self esteem that his been whittled at for hours, his mind was seeking comfort in the smallest yet most ridiculous things.

“Levi, you go first since you’re probably going to take more strokes anyway,” Zeke said.

Levi felt his hairs bristled at that. Zeke’s voice had been too near, too abrupt and Levi had been too busy surveying his surroundings for the flag.

Where is the hole? Levi opened his mouth to ask. The question died into a fake cough though when the red flickered for a second, just beyond the tall greens in front of him. “So, we get it to the other side of that?” He pointed one slightly shaky finger at the overgrowth in front of him.

Zeke shrugged. “Or you can go around it.”

“Going around might be a better idea,” Erwin said. “ He drew a half circle with his hand, tracing the trajectory of whatever ball he would probably be hitting. “Grass and trees might affect your swing.”

“You can hit a curveball.” The tone and the content of the suggestion framed it as almost good-intentioned advice. Zeke had narrowed his eyes at Levi as he said it.

Levi could barely even hit a decent ball. And you think I can do a curveball? He looked away from Zeke and at the more friendly landscape next to the mini forest. He wasn’t aiming for anything under par anyway.

Ending that damn course with remaining dignity would be nice and all he had to do was play it safe.

“You face your club a little to the left and swing to the right. It makes the ball spin.” Hange spoke up in the few second long silence.

Levi jumped at the abrupt yet mellow voice. A sound of the clack of metal and Levi instinctively looked down to find the ball had fallen off the tee. He bent down, ready to pick it up.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Hange asked. Her movements weren’t helping to calm Levi down either. Whether she had even noticed it or not, when she had crouched down next to Levi. And her presence had come out of nowhere, a phantom in his peripherals, just like the her voice of a while ago that Levi found himself having to keel over, placing one hand on the floor just to avoid tripping over.

The ball started to roll further away. Hange was quick to catch it. “Yeah, you seem pretty jumpy today. It really has been a while since you played huh?” She placed the ball on the tee. “A curveball will save you the hazard of going into the forest or going too far right instead of forward,” she explained.

“Maybe you should teach him how to swing the club first before teaching him to curve the ball,” Zeke chided.

“He had enough holes to practice. Who knows, he might just make it under par for the last one,” Hange said.

“On a par-three hole maybe, not for a par-six one.” Erwin shook his head, a ghost of a playful smile on his face.

“Either way, we’re used to waiting for him to finish anyway,” Zeke said. “We had seventeen holes to get used to it.”

I can at least try. In response, whatever was left of Levi’s dignity echoed Hange’s last few pieces of advice. Club facing left, swing to the right. Words weren’t the best guide though. Levi only realized it for himself when his mind went on overdrive.

Which left? Whose left? Which right? Whose right? He could have sworn Hange had been in front of him for a second. And what is the point of coordinating all these movements? He concluded, there were things he would only ever learn through doing.

And his body hadn’t still even gotten used to the flick of his wrist, the unnatural weight of the golf club and the need to make sure the club actually hit the ball. He had been thinking everything at once in that split second it had taken to hit the ball. At the same time, he had managed to face his club left, swing a little to the right.

Or he could have sworn he did. In that split second, Levi lost sight of the ball. He stared at the sky for a few seconds before deciding, it probably wasn’t there. He turned to the flat land to his right, no white specks either.

He heard the beginnings of a laugh just behind him.

Zeke’s laugh. “You really hit your ball there huh?”

“Is it out of bounds?” Levi asked, stifling whatever emotion was creeping out of him. It turned out much easier to just keep his voice monotone.

“Well, technically it’s not. It’s still playable,” Erwin said. “But if you look at the terrain…”

When Levi squinted he saw it, beyond the greens was a little dirty brown then just beyond it the speck of red.

“You’re years too early for an exhibition, Levi,” Zeke said.

“I think it’s playable.” Hange’s voice probably wasn’t the voice of reason but it was a source of comfort though.

She pulled a club from her golf bag and positioned herself to hit her own ball. She did a few practice swings, biting her lower lip in concentration.

Her motions were coming out, disjointed, so stark of a contrast from a while ago that Levi clearly recalled her own seamless movements until that moment. Her own hit had ended with her swinging position just a little too loose, the ball flying aimlessly a good few feet above him then the soft rustle of trees.

Hange looked back at them, a light shrug of defeat. Or acceptance. Her shrug had been too much of a big ham though to have been anything worth pitying. “I guess I’ll be playing through the forest too,” she said.

***

“You know there’s a time limit to finding your ball,” Hange said.

It was definitely an attempt to make conversation. Since they entered the forest, Hange had been seemingly restless, she was hummed, she tutted. Only when Levi grunted in return did that little exchange even become somewhat more coherent.

“Well, then I lose,” Levi said.

“No, you don’t get disqualified if you don’t find it. You just get a stroke penalty and you can start---”

“Well, I think I’m done for the day anyway.” That admission was enough to pull some of the weight off of his shoulders. When it was just Hange there, somehow it had been easier to hint, he wasn’t at all enjoying his morning.

For a few seconds longer, they were silent, save for the rustle of the crunch of the leaves below, the rustle of branches. Hange could have been making a sound. If the raising of eyebrows, the pursing of lips and the shifting of features into a wide smile could have counted as one.

He didn’t have the leeway to think too much into it though. Before he could stare and contemplate for a while longer, Hange broke the silence. “I’m guessing you actually never played golf.” She was saying it too gleefully like she had just caught him stealing a cookie from a cookie jar.

He had feared Hange seeing right through him until that moment. Such an exchange had come out almost anticlimactic. “You’re right. I never did. I grew up in the city and we don’t get a lot of golf courses in the city and country club memberships are expensive.”

“Why did you say you did? And you seemed so excited…” Hange trailed off. There was a disappointment in her tone, apparent enough to send a dull stab of guilt through him.

Levi sighed. “I thought of tea time not tee time,” he admitted.

“Tea time?” Hange asked.

Levi put his finger to his mouth, putting one pinky up in emphasis. “Tea time.”

Hange put the a cup made of air to her mouth in response. The raised pinky must have done the trick. “Like cups and kettles and shortbread tea time?” She asked.

Levi let out a deep sigh. “That would have been nice.”

“You should have told me! We could have organized one.”

“Really? Under Zeke’s sponsorship?”

“Well we have one more night here so what about after we go to the beach this afternoon. I can call the house have them prepare something---”

“Zeke is paying. I’d rather not…”

“Believe me, he’ll be in a good mood after this.”

Levi raised one eyebrow. “Really? After this?”

“He’s beating Erwin,” Hange said. “And Zeke likes winning if you haven’t noticed.” She stopped on her tracks and leaned back on the tree.

Levi only had to look back at the chess matches and the mahjong matches to see the truth in Hange’s explanation. “How’s your score?”

Hange pulled out her scorecard and handed it to him. His first instinct was to stare once again at the par numbers below before looking up again at the numbers on top. The view was definitely new to him. His own had been filled with two digit numbers at the top, double or even triple the par. Hange’s scorecard was clean, all one digit numbers, rarely above five. “He’s beating Erwin but he’s not beating me,” she admitted.

Levi only realized a second later that his jaw dropped. He moved to close his mouth. Zeke had been loud, his presence glaring. Erwin had been silent but he had given too much unsolicited advice that Levi had watched more closely begrudgingly counting the number of strokes.

Hange though had been silent, she had been focused on hitting the ball and although she had given advice, she had been subtle, she had been soft spoken about it.

Then he remembered the terms. Boogey. Birdy. Eagle. “Zeke told me you got an ‘eagle’”

“Eagle. Two strokes under par. I got one over here,” Hange said, pointing at a three.”And I got some ‘birdies.’” Levi didn’t do his research but the quick deduction that came with staring at the par numbers and Hange’s own numbers just one below par were enough for him to figure it for himself. “So you’ve been playing for a while.”

“I played this course a lot. I’d go alone when Zeke’s busy,” Hange said. “Sometimes when we’re back in the city, I’d go to the driving range to---”

“To let off some steam.”

Hange nodded. “Well Zeke spends a lot of time working, thinking about investments, stocks…. And Married life gets stressful. Sometimes, it gets surprisingly lonely.”

“You have your own thing going on though right? You have research, investments…”

“Definitely, but I can’t even count the number of times Zeke takes me here, only to ditch for a meeting or another emergency,” Hange said. “So it’s nice to be here with other people. Thanks for coming,” she added, her voice much softer than a while ago.

“Thanks for being patient with a newbie.”

Hange put her hands up in surprise. “No, I’m happy to be playing here,” she said. “You know, the many times Zeke and I played this course together, he never went this route for the final hole.”

“Have you?” Levi asked.

By the way Hange was navigating just a little too confidently, Levi realized he didn’t need a verbal answer.

Hange was still kind enough to supply one. “I told you right? I played this course too many times to count…” She walked ahead. “Our balls went to the same area, past the forest and you’ll see at the end of this why Zeke refuses to play here.”

Levi continued to follow, pushing leaves, branches and undergrowth back when necessary. The way the branches had given way to a glistening blue had been an almost breathtaking site.

“If your ball gets stuck in the forest, then you can’t usually go full swing to get it out. But if you swing too weakly, the ball will fall into the lake,” Hange explained. “And you waste a stroke. And a really good ball.”

“If it falls in?”

“We use a provisional ball and we get a stroke penalty. And of course, we lose the ball.” Hange answered. “I’ve lost enough balls here.”

“And Zeke never tried this path?”

“Zeke likes winning,” Hange said, her tone as deadpan as it was the first time she said it. “But the way he goes about winning is like...He’s always been smart about it, always playing safe. And it’s not just in games. He has always approached life like that. His investments are always blue chip, commodities, healthcare. Things which would never fail. And if you’ve seen how he plays, he’ll never go for something risky, like this.” Hange held her hands wide in front of her in emphasis. “He’ll skirt around the forest, even if it takes him an extra two strokes.”

“A conservative husband. At least you know you’ll never go hungry.” That response had been automatic. He had been a little too playful then, trying to elicit a reaction from the already frustrated looking Hange.

Hange let out a grand sigh, something that could have been a scream if she put more voice into it. “Yeah and you’re just as conservative as he is.”

“Am I?” Levi raised one eyebrow, a challenge at that one comment. On the inside though, maybe he was slightly insulted.

Hange didn’t notice it. She probably hadn’t even heard him. She dropped the golf bag and walked ahead towards the edge of the lake. “I found one of our golf balls!” She waved one hand back at him, too giddily that Levi was tempted to walk on ahead, just stopping where the sand started to soak up the water.

“We’re still in the game, Levi.” Hange said, a toothy grin clambered up her cheeks.

No. Levi thought to himself. Those words never made it to his lips. Or maybe it did, just as something else.“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Hange had bent down and started unlacing her shoes. “Why?”

“Why are you gonna get yourself dirty? You can just use a provisional ball and you can just go around the lake.”

Hange took a break from unlacing her shoes, and put a hand up in front of him as if to say ‘case in point.’ “Conservative.”

“Why, what’s wrong with conservative?”

In a begrudgingly effective response, Hange wildly kicked off one shoe and it flew just a good few inches from the banks. “I told you yesterday, games teach things right?”

And sometimes they expose parts of ourselves. Levi completed that last part in his head.

If he had ended up muttering it out loud, Hange probably didn’t hear it. “ Games are problems that need to be solved,” she started. “And life is the same way, stocked with problems, or maybe it’s a constant problem that needs to be navigated and solved right?”

Levi didn’t respond. Hange didn’t seem to be looking for a response either and she continued to speak. “People will always master their commonly used thinking processes and problem solving processes and they rely too easily on them. Zeke and his stocks. Zeke and his business ventures. And Levi Ackerman and his programming,” She cocked her head back and looked at him, her expression a big ham. She kicked her other shoe to the other side.

“What about my programming?” Levi asked.

“Oh a user interface problem? It’s a front end issue. Oh it’s a problem with the server data? It’s a back end issue.” For that moment, Hange had changed her tone, her verbal tics, and Levi could only come up with one conclusion: she was mocking him.

He was sure he didn’t sound like that though. “I didn’t know you understood coding.”

“I don’t,” Hange said. “But I did my research because we’re gonna be working together right? Anyway, the point is, sure, you’re an efficient thinker that way. Everyone is an efficient thinker when they’re thinking in shortcuts and clearcut processes. Don't you think people lose a lot of opportunities to learn something a little more life changing, to achieve something more when they stick to all these strict processes?” Hange grabbed one of the more rounded clubs from her bag. “By the way, this is a driver,” she said.

A driver, a golf club used for long distance hits. Levi at least remembered that much from researching. “I knew that.”

“Well, I thought I might as well give you a few lessons. We’re gonna be working together so I thought I’d tell you how I like to work, Levi.” Hange cocked her head back and smiled. “When we look into this application, you might find a bug. But I asked you… what if it’s working as expected? What if it’s a matter of flawed data?”

“That’s what we’ll be investigating right?”

“But I don’t wanna start this investigation with assumptions. We’re creating an extension of your application, we’re gonna be breaking down the application to data, sensations and feelings. I feel like we’ll be able to do a better job at finding the ‘bug’ if we keep an open mind about it. So I want us to ask and answer questions we were scared to even probe,” Hange said. She stepped into the water, driver in hand.

Levi could only watch, starting from the bottom, watching as her pants turned a darker shade of blue, as the water creeped up her hastily and shoddily folded cuffs.

“Questions like?” Levi already had the question, tucked in his mind. He wasn’t the one married. He wasn’t the one with the billionaire husband. That wasn’t his question to ask.

Fortunately, Hange had been eager to probe. “What if we’re just attracted to each other? As simple as that. What if… the love alarm is just telling us, we really could get along?”

It was the easiest answer and somehow, such an admission had Levi admiring everything at once. The sun after the rain was brightest, it reflected the water in various ways, emitting too many colors at once.

And Hange was in the middle of it all. The sun, the gleaming water had done their job to make her just a little too iridescent, a feast for even his eyes.

His eyes still had a conscience though. “Don’t you wanna figure out why it didn’t ring with Zeke?”

Hange shrugged. “I am curious… but really, love is a complex thing. Why would I let an application tell me who I love or don’t love? No matter how the application rings, it wouldn’t change how I feel about Zeke.”

Hange turned her back on him then and Levi was at least grateful he had that one second to let out a hitched breath. “Then I guess, you really know how to love, Hange,” he whispered, mostly for himself and maybe, in the infinitesimally small chance Hange was listening.

She had gone deeper into the water, the water starting to tickle at her shins. She stopped, positioning her club just a little into the water. Wish me luck. She mouthed.

And everything went quickly after that. One flick of the wrist, a splash of water, a lot of mud. Levi didn’t even have time to watch the ball fly. Maybe because he had been watching the bluish drops, the brown drops hovering in the air and Hange in the middle of it all for a few split seconds longer.

Everything suddenly slowed down when he was looking at the minute details, when he was watching how the drops of water flew high enough to smack lightly at her face, how the grime practically slapped at her neck and the way the drops of water and mud hung heavy on her shirt, down to her bottoms.

She wasn’t looking back yet. She put a hand to her forehead as if they were a pair of binoculars only she knew how to use. She let out a cheer, a howl in amazement as if she was the one who didn’t just send a ball flying from the water. “ I think the ball made it to the green,” she said

She turned back at him so excitedly that the water continued to splash.

Levi instinctively stepped back. “You’re a fucking mess. It’s disgusting.” He was sure he had sounded a little abrasive.

Hange’s smile wasn’t falling though. “Then why are you smiling?”

“Am I?” Levi asked. The smile tugged at his lips and he wasn’t compelled at all to resist.

He declared it Hange’s win. Besides, maybe she was right. Maybe they could really get along.

***

There was an albatross pecking by the sand, only a few feet from Levi. It was an ugly bird, the beak too long, too crooked and when it stared at him with its deep black eyes, Levi could have sworn it was peering into his soul.

It was mildly terrifying but still, Levi continued to stare just to make sure the few seconds of googling an albatross, and his own natural instinct were correct. That it was an albatross.

“Why are you staring at the bird?” It was a cold yet seemingly innocent question. It was just like his direct superior though to have him so self conscious over one simple action with just one question.

“It’s an albatross,” Levi answered, only realizing a second later he hadn’t answered the question.

Or maybe that was the answer to the question. “So a small game of golf was enough to have you interested in birds.”

“I just did some research on albatrosses after the game."

"Is this about Hange?"

"Zeke was screaming about an albatross during the game,” Levi said.

“Albatross, three strokes below par. Hange got that par-six hole in three strokes,” Erwin explained.

“Yeah, she did.”

“So it is about Hange.”

Levi didn’t say anything, instead, focusing on the conglomeration of unpleasant sensations bombarding him. He shifted his knees, and his bottom, letting the beach blanket bristle from underneath him. Just a little hyper aware then, he picked out the grains of sand rising as little bumps, digging into him.

When he held his chin high, instead of focusing on the ground underneath, he still couldn’t shift himself into something perfectly agreeable. The sticky air, the sour, flaky scent that lingered there were unshakeable discomforts. Levi could have sworn that although he hadn’t even gone near enough to the ocean to get wet, the humid ocean air would still find a way to leave him wet and sticky.

“What do you think of her?” Erwin asked.

“Think of who?”

“Hange.”

Erwin’s question had been enough to pull Levi from his quick trance of running through all the downsides of the beach trip. Those downsides were quickly replaced by another discomfort. Suddenly, Levi was uncomfortable inside and out. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well, you’re gonna be working close to her so I just wanted to make sure you two were compatible.”

Compatible. That word had Levi coughing out the ocean air. “Well our love alarms rang so maybe that means we could get along, work efficiently together.”

“Just don’t get Zeke angry,” Erwin said.

“Why would I do that?”

“Keep him in a good mood.”

But were Zeke's good moods even predictable? “Well, Hange is his partner and he seems particularly happy when she's around,” Levi said.

“He was in a good mood today, particularly after a match, spent a good few minutes talking about how you lost your ball.”

Levi never did find the ball that flew into the forest. Although he had a provisional and he could have played on, somehow following Hange’s own play had been much more entertaining. “Hange told me he likes winning,” Levi said.

“Particularly against you,” Erwin noted, one eyebrow raised.“You know, when Hange followed you into the woods, he seemed like he was in a bad mood for a while there.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Zeke is an important customer, an important opportunity for this application and I want to make sure he’s happy with his investment.”

“Yes, Hange and I will work on a good product.”

“It’s not just that,” Erwin said. “With the amount of money Zeke is putting into this product, try to keep this in mind, if he wants something, he gets it. Don’t make him want to pull out the money.”

Erwin was dancing around definitions for sure. He was emphasizing words, dropping hints and he was staring at Levi like there was something else he had wanted to say but was stopping himself.

If Zeke wants something, he gets it. Erwin had mentioned.

He was a reasonable man though so it didn’t seem too radical of a decision for Levi to amend the statement on his end. If Zeke wants something within reason, he gets it.

All he had to do was keep Zeke happy. A hauntingly difficult task especially when the blonde had proved to be incredibly disagreeable the few times he had known him.

Don't you think people lose a lot of opportunities to learn something a little more life changing, to achieve something more when they stick to all these strict processes?

Then he was reminded, pleasing Zeke didn’t have to be a strict process of sucking up to him. Levi was starting to see it for himself when the conversation deadened into nothing, save for the squawk of the ocean birds and the splash of the waves on the shore.

When there was nothing more to discuss, Erwin fell back on his beach blanket. Within a few minutes, he was silent. Levi wasn’t as tired. He probably would have fallen asleep though if the two figures at the distance hadn’t caught his eye.

One blonde, one brunette. He only needed the height difference, the familiar colored bathing suits from a while ago to figure out for himself who they were.

Hange was much easier to pick out. The enthusiasm, the inquisitiveness he had gotten used to overtime was apparent in the way she managed to scurry across the shores before falling thigh deep into the water. She was pointing at something under.

From next to her, Zeke dove to get it, pulling out a large shell. Then they were talking. Hange held the shell in her hand, raised it up to the sky.

It could have been gleaming, glittering. Levi was too far to tell. By the way, Hange waves her hands up before holding it in front of Zeke, Levi was sure it was beautiful.

A few minutes may have passed of just watching the couple trudge through hip deep water.

The peaceful moment was abruptly interrupted by a man in a beach polo and board shorts, running towards the shore, one hand held high. “Mr. Jaeger! Someone from the board of directors of…” He continued to talk, to shout. He was running as he spoke and Levi never picked up the last few parts of that conversation.

That wasn’t his business anyway. There were more important things though, more fitting of the name “his business.”

Like the way Hange’s mouth dropped, perceptible despite the distance between them. The way she had slowed down to a stop, shell still in hand.

They made it back to the shallower part of the beach together only separating after one kiss to Hange’s forehead. Zeke went ahead in land, seeming particularly restless.

And Hange? She sat down at the edge of the shore, where the water was still deep enough to cover her feet. She pulled her legs to her chest, held them close. The shell lay forgotten on her side.

By the time Levi was close enough to see it, the shell had disappeared, most likely taken back by the ocean. “Hey, was there something you wanted to see?”

Pleasing Zeke didn’t have to be a strict process. It didn’t have to be the strict daunting process of sucking up to a disagreeable man. He concluded that for himself when he allowed the burst of energy to wash through him then, when Hange looked up at him, a wide grin decorating her lips.

Someone was precious to Zeke. It was very much apparent back in the pool, back in the golf course and then and there, on the shores.

And if I make her happy, by extension, I make Zeke happy right?

“Zeke and I were planning on checking out the albatross colony, just over there past that rock,” Hange said. “There are usually seagulls at this time of year too.”

“I can come with you.”

Hange’s eyes widened. “Really? You didn’t seem excited when I mentioned the ocean yesterday.”

Levi had been polite. “Did I seem not excited?”

“Well, you wrinkled your nose like this.” Hange made a ridiculous face, crossing her eyes, raising her nose a little too high, Levi could have sworn he had never made that expression that in his life. Hange continued. "And when we arrived, you stayed as far away as you could and you had that same face.

Levi didn’t have much control of his expressions and maybe he was a little too unsure. The water was deep enough to eat at his feet but still shallow enough that Levi had full control of his movements.

The ocean was dirty, disgusting. It was a confluence of biological waste. But the ocean had Hange. The ocean made Hange happy.

Suddenly, Levi was self conscious of his own expression then. Just in case, he pulled his mouth up to a subtle smile, making a conscious effort to soften his expression. In the end, it hadn’t been too much of a feat.

Hange’s own smile, her wide eyes had made everything all the easier. “You wanna see the albatross colonies?” she asked.

“Sure, We don’t come here often anyway.”

“You’ll definitely not get this back in the city. The magic about this island is… there’s not a lot of beachgoers so we’re able to preserve a lot of nature.” Hange walked ahead, looking back only long enough to grip his hand.

She walked further into the ocean and the wind could have gotten stronger. It whipped at her damp hair, blowing it in all directions at once. The fishy smell of the ocean rode with the wind and Levi found himself blinking hard a few times while willing himself to move forward.

Hange was moving faster than Levi ever had been. She was more than a few feet away already and the distance between them was only getting wider and wider.

He could have been distracted or maybe he had just been convinced that if he walked on, he would eventually catch up to her. He didn’t pay heed to the water that smacked at his chest, until he had to taste it. Not until he had to flail his hands just to keep moving forward, against the current.

“Hange!” By the time, he had thought it necessary to call out, Hange was too far. For sure, she didn’t hear him. Levi was starting to question himself though. How could she hear him when there was a wall of water between them? How could she hear him when water was finding its way into his mouth every single time he had attempted to call out?

He was starting to find it difficult to even open his mouth. He was finding it difficult to kick, to flail his arms. HIs chest was screaming. The few moments he tried to open his eyes, to take stock of the situation, he was met with a stinging pain.

A few times, he tried to kick up ahead to the surface. Once or twice, he had opened his eyes despite the stinging pain, long enough to see the sky above him.

Was he drowning? He was drowning in the world’s bathroom, a conglomeration of shit and piss. It was a horrible way to go out and as much as possible, he would have wanted to go out in other less disgusting ways. So Levi continued to flail towards the top, kicking from underneath. He continued to scream, or at least attempt to scream past the bombardment of seawater that made it past his mouth and to his lungs.

The ocean smelled fear. Maybe it smelled disgust. It continued to advance towards him. Any reprieve Levi managed to find, any attempt to stay a float, back first on the surface was met with waves lapping at him, riptides dragging him from all directions at once.

Levi!

Was it Hange? Or was it the ocean? When everything came accompanied by whooshes, gurgles and bubbling, Levi never could be too sure.

Still, he continued to kick. He continued to wave his arms, until his lungs let out their last cry. Until all sensations whittled to unknowns.

And all he could see was darkness.

***

Hey, can you hear me?

The ocean had been warm, so warm that Levi didn’t even know his insides were cold until air filled his mouth, whizzing down his throat. Awareness came like a flicker then two many lights at once.

And in the middle of it all, it could have been Hange. He liked to think it was Hange. Her damp hair were tendrils that caressed at his neck, her voice drumming yet faint.

Hey, hey, can you see me? Blink twice if you can.

Levi wasn’t in control of his body. He didn’t think too much of it though, he had a good view right in front of him, albeit a little blurry.

Stop moving. Although he couldn’t say it out loud, he was sure he said it loud enough in his mind. Still, something was shaking him, his vision was topsy turvy, the lights continued to move left and right, then up and down in some pattern he couldn’t even comprehend.

The lights were bright, dizzying. Instinctively Levi shut his eyes. In the darkness that followed, maybe he lost track of time, of some sort of rhythm without the lights to guide him. The familiar sensation came as something abrupt. He noticed the contours first, the lines that brushed against his own lips, settling on his upper lip, then just a little bit above his jaw.

Then he tasted them. They were salty and they brought with it more surprises. More air that brushed past the walls of his mouth, to the back of his throat then they washed down to his lungs. More air. And they did their job to aggravate whatever other unwelcome concoctions had settled in his airway

Awareness had come like a flicker. Consciousness came as a slap in his face, then everything at once. There was a pain in his chest, from the shaking.

His view was a dark yet glistening blue. The ocean? But how long had he been staring at the ocean. He could have sworn that he was watching Hange just a while ago.

“Just let it out Levi.” Her voice was grating. And Levi wondered why he was even looked at her. Everything hurt at once, and when Levi stared at the water, the notable puddle just next to him, comprehension washed over him, first as a flicker, a slap in the face then a large wall of water, a monster in the sea.

He could have been drowning again.

What the fuck. It would have been nice to be able let out a taut swear. After all, when he was barely moving, the aches and pains bunched up inside him. Everything came out as a gurgle, then more salt water.

“You almost drowned out there,” Hange said, an attempt at comforting for sure. Levi wasn’t at all comforted though.

Not by her voice at least. Something was caressing at his neck, pushing his hair behind his ear. It took him a few seconds longer, and a soft motion guiding his head back up, back to looking straight up at the sky, for Levi to put two and two together.

The sky was the background. Hange was the centerpiece. A centerpiece of relief and exhaustion, framed by hair much damper. Those were enough hints.

You saved me? He had tried to mouth it.

Whether Hange had heard it or not, he couldn’t do much to assume but he focused on the way she licked her lips, the way she bit them before settling for a weak smile. He focused on the way the lines on her lips stuck out a little more when dry.

And it just had been a little easier to recall them right on top of his.

So you did save me. He couldn’t spare much words but he did manage to spare a smile.

Hange didn’t return it. By the time Levi was confident enough to have sworn he was smiling, Hange had already looked away. “He’s responsive,” she said, her voice more distant than a second ago.

“Hange, let a professional take over.” Zeke’s voice penetrated into that tiny world that had been just the both of them.

“You have to be careful, I might have bruised a few ribs.” Suddenly, Hange’s voice was getting softer and softer.

As if Zeke had intruded just to pull her out. He sought solace in the fact that she was Zeke’s after all. That was only the expected outcome.

For a while all he saw was blue sky. Then unfamiliar faces. Then others were asking questions. Way too many questions. It was just a little too overwhelming that Levi could only force his eyelids shut.

He let the darkness take over, then his other four senses. Then soon, he could have been dreaming again. The contours, the dry scabby lines at his upper lip, at his lower lip, brushing just a little lower. He was certain, in those split second long moments, her lips were on his.

Soft but chapped. Salty but sweet. Maybe he spared a few seconds, a few glimmers of scarce energy to lick at his lips just to taste it again.

Reason bared its fangs. She did it to save your life. She’s married. He scolded himself.

Soon, he was barely aware of anything but blackness. And the salty and sweet, the soft and dry danced for a little longer in his dreams.

Still, a part of him continued to whisper. Not in your wildest dreams.

“Not in your wildest dreams, Levi.” A soft mutter only he could have heard. It was only for him anyway since he needed to hear it himself to believe it.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #fanfic

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harrowharkboygf · 4 years

Text

i want to see you, dressed all in white

a short catradora oneshot, set at the time of adora's future vision. requested by @nozomijoestar. read on ao3.

Catra could not believe she was wearing shoes for this. It was such a strange experience, hearing the click clack of heels coming from her feet as she walked, but alas! Such was the life of an ambassador of Brightmoon.

And, she thought privately, the life of the wife of She-Ra. Hopefully. If everything went well tonight. She subtly traced the outline of the ring in her pants pocket. The box itself would have been too big and clunky to fix in her pocket, so Glimmer had helped her out and given her a tiny leather pouch to hold it in.

“If she finds the pouch, just say it contains important ambassador information like…IDs!” Glimmer had suggested.

Catra had raised an eyebrow. “We need IDs for Princess Prom?”

“Well no, but…” It was Glimmer’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “You and Adora did miss half the planning meeting, so how would either of you know?”

Catra had smirked. “We were…busy.”

She gave her a decidedly unqueenly shove. “Of course you were, Horde Scum.” Then Glimmer pulled her into a hug. “I’m so happy for you both. Adora’s gonna say yes immediately.” Catra wasn’t worried about her saying no; she knew that Adora loved her more than anything, and they’d been talking about marriage for a while now. No, she was worried that somehow something would go wrong and it wouldn’t be perfect. Adora was as amazing as the moons and the stars—she deserved perfect.

“Catra? Catra!”

She snapped back to the present. Adora was waving her hand in front of her face, grinning. Even at age twenty-seven, she still hadn’t lost the adorable, dorky look on her face.

“Sorry, zoned out for a sec,” she said, taking Adora’s hand and jumping gracefully down from the skiff. She took a minute to admire how beautiful her girlfriend looked tonight—she looked like a queen in her own right, the tiara sparkling off her golden hair and the white dress making it all too easy for Catra to imagine her walking down a wedding aisle. Her stomach fluttered.

“Are you nervous for your second Princess Prom?” asked Adora; her tone was joking but her eyes softened in a way that made Catra feel instantly safe.

“Not with you by my side,” said Catra, pushing down her nerves and leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “Are you nervous?”

“Not with you by my side,” Adora mimicked, smiling against her lips.

If anyone was definitely nervous, it was Bow and Glimmer. This was the first formal event where they would be introduced as a married couple, and they had spent the whole skiff ride fiddling nervously with their clothes and asking to go over the schedule so often that Catra had asked Bow if he’d switched bodies with Adora.

“You two look amazing,” Adora told them for the seventh time this hour.

“Are you sure the capes don’t look stupid?” asked Glimmer. “I don’t wanna look childish.”

“What if I trip and fall on it?” Bow worried, toying with the edge of his cape.

“If you do, I will laugh and then kick all the asses of anyone else who laughed,” Catra assured him.

“And I’ll help!” said Adora gleefully, holding up her hand to be high-fived. Catra obliged her.

Glimmer and Bow both took a deep breath in sync. “Thanks, guys,” she said, a real smile spreading across her face.

Bow stuck out his hand. “Best Friend Squad!”

Everyone put their hands in the middle. “Best Friend Squad!” they cheered.

——

The former-Fright-Zone-now-renamed-the-Light-Zone looked absolutely stunning. Scorpia had really outdone herself. Unlike at Frosta’s prom, which had been decorated with gleaming ice sculptures, the ballroom was decorated with smooth, sleek black crystals reminiscent of the Black Garnet, giving the whole room a very sophisticated aura.

“Presenting Queen Glimmer and King Bow of Brightmoon!”

Bow and Glimmer did not, to their credit, trip over their capes or do anything else notably embarrassing. In fact, they were the textbook example of dignified, waving proudly to the crowd as they walked up to the dais, and then bowing low to Scorpia, who immediately jumped down from her throne to greet them.

And then it was their turn.

“Presenting Adora, Princess of Power, and Catra of Brightmoon!”

Catra offered her girlfriend her arm. It was partially an affectionate gesture and partially an effort to make sure she herself didn’t trip—she still wasn’t used to these shoes.

“Your Highness,” Catra said to Scorpia as she bowed.

“Oh, none of that ‘Highness’ crap!” Scorpia chortled, practically bouncing off her throne to envelop the two of them in a tight hug.

“All this stuff is so formal,” she whispered. “I’m so out of my depth.”

“You’re doing amazing,” Adora promised her.

The next hour or so was filled with so many boring conversations and introductions. It seemed like every diplomat and ambassador in Etheria wanted to talk to her and Adora. It was really cute when little kids came up asking for She-Ra autographs, but if Catra had to hear about the rising fish prices in Salineas one more time, she was going to be homicidal.

Despite coming as each other’s dates, Catra and Adora had to split up in order to divide and conquer all of their social obligations, a strategy that Bow and Glimmer had also adopted. That didn’t stop Catra from throwing as many longing looks at Adora from across the ballroom as physically possible.

She tried to seek shelter with Double Trouble, who would definitely not force her to ruminate on the state of “today’s youth”—a conversation that withered old advisers seemed to love—but their need to be the center of attention kept also drawing attention to Catra. This made it particularly hard to accomplish her goal of “only talking to people she wanted to talk to”. Glimmer, surrounded by a group of Mystacor sorcerers, gave her an arm squeeze in solidarity as she passed by.

Eventually she managed to escape yet another drab discussion of the pros and cons of a trade alliance between the Crimson Waste and the Kingdom of Snows under the premise of greeting Frosta. She was able to enjoy the beginning of a nice banter/advice session concerning Frosta’s love life before the princess was preoccupied with an adviser asking her opinion on intra-kingdom matters.

“I’m surprised you haven’t taken those off yet,” Adora said behind her, making her jump. She gestured down at the cursed shoes.

“I wish,” Catra grimaced, taking the cup of punch her girlfriend offered. “I was afraid someone would throw a fit.”

Adora wrapped an arm around her shoulders, which Catra leaned into gratefully. “Is it that advisor over there?” she whispered in her ear, subtly turning Catra’s head so she can see who she meant. “The one with an angry look on his face? Are you afraid of him?”

She snickered. “What, did you have to hear his monologue about decorum too?”

“He even made a comment about ‘last time’,” Adora told her, laughing under her breath. “A very pointed remark about breaking tradition.”

“Ooh, insulting She-Ra, is he? I’ll kick his ass.”

“My hero.”

Catra turned to face her fully, placing one hand on Adora’s hip. “You know it,” she murmured, leaning forward to press their lips together.

“Adora!”

Catra pulled back, groaning under her breath, as they both turned to see Perfuma waving at them. The flower princess held up her own cup and gestured at a group of stern-looking Plumerians. Adora pecked her cheek before hurrying off again.

At this point, Catra was beginning to get worried that she wouldn’t ever get the chance to be alone with Adora. She once again traced the outline of the ring pouch in her pocket, biting her lip.

Then, to her immense relief, music started playing. She grinned. It was time for the real party to start.

Adora easily found her on the dance floor. Catra leaned eagerly into her warm touch, let herself be rooted in her relaxed blue eyes. “Will you be my dance partner?” asked Adora teasingly.

Catra pretended to think it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Are you any good at it?”

Adora winked. “Nope.”

Catra blew her a kiss, and then the dance started, everyone moving in sync. Adora kept her eyes fixed on her girlfriend, her steps steady and confident despite her previously stated lack of talent. “I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you too,” she murmured back. “Always have, always will.”

The movements of the dance pulled them closer, the tempo slowing down. Adora used this opportunity to cup her face and kiss her firmly—finally—before the pace of the music picked back up again and everyone switched partners.

The carefully-choreographed switch in the dance pushed her and Glimmer together, a move that made the both of them grin easily. Things really had changed since the last Princess Prom, Catra thought to herself.

“Do you have a specific plan?” asked Glimmer, nodding almost imperceptibly at her pocket.

Catra nodded. “I just need a way to get a moment alone with Adora.”

Glimmer winked at her. “I can do that.”

Then she was passed off to Mermista, who she hadn’t seen yet that evening. “Heard you knocked up,” said Catra in lieu of a greeting.

Mermista twirled her, a lazy smirk sliding across her face. “Yeah, just a little baby barnacle growing, nothing to see here.”

“Congrats,” Catra told her genuinely. Mermista would never be her best friend—that was reserved for Adora, and Glimmer and Bow—but she had the deepest respect for her, and they got along wonderfully.

A slight blush drifted over her cheeks. The queen had never been good at accepting compliments—one of the many things they had in common. “Bow told me,” she said, “so like, congrats to you too.”

Catra rolled her eyes, but there was no malice behind it. “What, does the entire Princess Alliance know?”

“Probably,” drawled Mermista, and then Catra spun her one last time before they parted ways.

“Catra!” Scorpia greeted her with just as much enthusiasm as before. “I heard the news! How can I help?”

As they began the waltz, Catra mulled it over. “Actually,” she said, her eyes lighting up, “I do have a request.”

——

“Greetings, Princess Prom guests!” Perfuma said in a trill, speaking into the microphone. “I hope you all enjoyed your first dance of the night! Now we will have a live performance by our beloved host, Princess Scorpia!”

The crowd cheered wildly. Scorpia stepped onto the stage, looking radiant and sure of herself under the spotlights. She tapped the microphone once to test it, before she began to hum the opening notes of a ballad.

Scorpia’s song wafted through the ballroom, filling the air. Perfuma sat behind her, strumming a huge string instrument made of wood and occasionally providing backup vocals.

Catra and Adora swayed together on the dance floor, saying nothing, just enjoying each other’s presence. Catra spun her around slowly as Scorpia crooned, occasionally pressing a light kiss to her skin as she drew her closer. Adora, in turn, just watched her, a soft look on her face.

After Scorpia finished her first song of the night, everyone cheered, clapping their hands and whistling in approval. The princess flushed a deep crimson, exchanging a delighted look with Perfuma over her shoulder. A shout of “Encore! Encore!” started up.

Catra took Adora’s hand. “Let’s sneak out for a bit,” she whispered. “Everyone’s entranced by Scorpia’s singing, so we won’t be missed.”

The gleam in Adora’s eyes was ever so familiar, a look that she hadn’t lost even as she grew older. “Lead the way,” she whispered back.

They snuck out through one of the many hallways branching out from the ballroom. The hallways were well lit and decorated similarly to the ballroom; it looked so different from the hallways they’d once scampered through as kids.

But they raced just the same, hand in hand, giggling as they chased each other. Catra mussed up Adora’s hair, cackling as her girlfriend playfully pulled her into a headlock. Their outfits were thoroughly disheveled by the time they reached the ladder, but Catra didn’t care.

“Do you recognize where we are?” she asked.

Adora touched the rail of the ladder. “Of course,” she said, returning Catra’s grin. “I’d recognize this place in my sleep, no matter how many times the walls are repainted.”

Catra kicked off her shoes, sighing with relief when the pads of her feet touched ground again. “Follow me, then.” She hoisted herself up onto the first rung of the ladder, and began to climb.

“Not fair!” shouted Adora below her. “I’m wearing a dress and you’re not!” But she heard her feet touch the ladder rungs anyway.

Catra offered Adora her hand on the top rung, which she took gratefully. The two of them stood together on the platform, in the exact spot where they’d spent so many hours as children. Catra inhaled, breathing in Adora’s sweet, familiar scent.

Adora stared out over the former Fright Zone, still wrapped around Catra. “The Light Zone is a good name,” she said finally.

Catra purred softly as she ran a hand through her hair. “It’s so much nicer now,” she marveled. “Scorpia did so well.”

Adora turned to look at her. “So did we,” she said, cupping her cheek. “We’ve rebuilt so much since the war ended seven years ago.”

Catra picked up on the double meaning of her words. “We have,” she said, pressing their foreheads together and smiling against her lips. Her heart pounded in her throat. This was the perfect moment.

Catra pulled back, just far enough to give her space to kneel. Quickly, she rehearsed her speech in her mind, She reached into her pocket and pulled the ring free from the leather pouch.

She began, “Hey, Adora—”

“Will you marry me?” blurted out Adora.

Catra’s jaw dropped. For a minute, she said nothing.

“I mean, you—you can say no,” Adora said hurriedly, clearly taking her silence as a bad sign. “I didn’t plan out an elaborate proposal or anything, I don’t even have a ring, but—”

“I have a ring!” said Catra, still shocked.

It was Adora’s turn to gape at her. “You—What?”

A grin split Catra ear to ear. “Yes, you idiot!” she exclaimed. “I was going to propose to you tonight—right now, actually! Glimmer and I have been planning this for months!”

Adora almost fell over laughing, clutching her stomach. “Wow,” she said, breathless, “we make quite a pair.”

“We do,” said Catra, throwing her arms around her neck and kissing her passionately.

“I love you,” Adora told her, her words slightly muffled against her lips.

Catra got down on one knee and held out the ring in her palm for real. “Adora,” she said, ignoring the happy tears that pricked the corner of her eyes, “will you marry me?”

Adora knelt down so they were level. “Yes,” she breathed out. “A million times, yes.”

#she ra #spop #catradora #catra #adora #glimmer #bow #perfuma #scorpia #mermista #she ra season 5 #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra fanfic #soph.txt

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myreygn · 3 years

Note

Ok no worries! Maybe Nairobi and Denver or Berlin and the Professor (not inc*st of course but just brotherly banter or other stuff). For Nairobi and Denver it could be them just playing around, finding out one of them is ticklish, etc. For Berlin and the Professor maybe Berlin tries to get the Professor to relax and actually smile for once and he remembers he used to be ticklish as a kid? Lmk if you want any more ideas!

finally got around to it, sorry it took so long anon. hope you see this and enjoy it :)

tw: swearing

O~o~O

Sparring Partner

“Just admit that I'm stronger and I might let you out of this!”

“Never!”, Nairobi hissed and started another attempt to bring her colleague down, jumping at him and unpacking one of her very own secret tricks. She launched herself at his throat with her right hand, then put all her strength into a surprise punch from the left – only to have it blocked by Denver. Again.

“You know, you're really pretty but that's it”, the fighter stated and pinned her to the ground with a cocky grin. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

Nairobi only glared at him. Fuck that guy, honestly! But after all, she was the one who had suggested the sparring session and aside from the humiliation it would bring her, backing out now wouldn't bring her forward either. How was she supposed to improve her hand to hand combat if she let out such a perfect opportunity to learn from the master?

“Alright”, Denver grinned, then let go off her and turned around to reposition himself. “But if you wanna, defeat me, you gotta...”, he twirled around just in time to grab her leg and throw her back on the ground, “try a little harder.”

“How do you do that?!”, Nairobi spluttered and got back on her feet with a groan.

“Years of practice. And you weren't exactly subtle.” Denver grinned and lifted his hands, signaling that she could now attack again. “I said that in a nice way, actually you were horrible.”

“You!”, the older woman screeched and jumped at him again. For solid ten minutes more she tried to bring Denver down, make him tumble or at least land a hit, but all she got was defeat after defeat after defeat. That boy was too strong for his own good.

“Wanna know what your problem is?” Denver sat on the ground, leaning against the wall and a water bottle in his hand. Nairobi noticed with pleasure that even though she couldn't manage to defeat him, she at least had made him sweat.

She glared at him. “You knew what my problem was and still let me get my ass whooped?!”

“Yeah, was fun. So, you wanna know or not?” Denver's grin only grew when she huffed and rolled her eyes, a sign for him to continue. “You're thinking way too limited. I know, you're not a hand-to-hand-fighter, but you should know that this kind of combat consists of many different styles. You're trying to fight like me, that's your mistake. You can't compete with me if you're only relying on your strength. Actually, you probably couldn't compete with anyone that way.”

Nairobi could barely hold herself from grabbing the next heavy thing and throwing it at his head. She took a deep breath to calm down and then thought about is words. “So, you're saying... that if I fought in a different way and with a different focus... I could be better than you?”

“Nah nah, I didn't say that! But yeah, you have other talents. You should use them instead of trying to make up something you can't do.”

Nairobi thought about this for a few seconds. 'Use my own talents, huh? Not a bad idea...' She got up with a stretch and put her water bottle to the side, then positioned herself on the “battlefield” once more. “Alright, let's do this.”

“Already?” Denver grinned and shrugged his shoulders before he stood up as well. “Don't you wanna take a little break before I defeat you once more?”

“You won't, now that I have my very own strategy, moron!”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say, princess.” Denver spread his arms and laughed his obnoxious, yet somehow very funny laugh. “Come and get me!”

It didn't start off well, Nairobi had to admit that. Her first two attacks were simply avoided, the third blocked and after her fourth attempt, Denver finally decided to snap back. With another laugh, he put his arms around her in a grip that she could never figure out in combat with him and the end of the fight neared with a shockingly fast tempo. Think, Nairobi, think... her talents didn't really seem to be useful in this situation. None but one: she didn't lose. Never. And never losing sometimes included dirty methods.

Denver let out a not-so-manly shriek when Nairobis's nails made contact with his side, only covered by a thin tank top, and scribbled all over the damp fabric. Sweat. Always a pleasant experience. Nairobi shook off the slight disgust she felt, especially considering that she was just as sweaty as her sparring partner, and wriggled out of his arms when his grip loosened. Now she had even better access to his torso and she used the surprise moment to bring him to the ground and straddle him.

“Aw, what is it, boy? A little ticklish?”

It had been a guess, yeah, but apparently a very lucky one; Denver was squirming underneath her and raspy giggles were pouring out of his mouth. “'m nahat, gehet off!”

For sure not. Nairobi just grinned and went from scribbling to squeezing, making him buck his hips so hard she almost flew off. “Oh, but I think you are! And it's pretty bad, if I might say so. Look at you: barely giggling, yet you can't get up! You can't even move properly, can you?” Her hands shot up under his arms that he clamped to his sides, clawing at his rips. “Can you, huh?”

Denver threw his head back and his fist banged on the floor as he bit his lip to suppress the laughter. “GhEheh, Nahairohobi! Nahaha-” His face reddened and he grunted between his giggling. “Stahap!”

Nairobi grinned triumphantly. “Just admit that I'm stronger than you and I might let you out of this.”

For a second, Denver stared up at her in disbelief, still huffing and chuckling quietly, then his face was taken over by a stubborn frown. “Nehever!”

“Alright, then this is on you.”

She had already noticed the desperation in which he clamped his arms to his torso and since observation was one of her strengths as well, she had a vague idea of the spot that would finally get a real laugh from this donkey. Without a further warning, she grabbed Denver's left wrist and once more, the surprise moment was on her side as she forced his arm to the side and pinned it down with her knee. For a second she allowed herself to enjoy the horror dawning on her colleague's face, then she dug right into the center of his unprotected armpit and Denver lost it.

“NAHA, FAHahAckiHING STAHAHAP! NAHAHAIROBIHEHE!”

“That is my name, what do you want?”

“DOHOHON'T!”

“Don't? Don't what? Don't stop? Gladly!”

“NAHAHAT-”

“So I should stop?”

“Yehea!”

“Too bad, I don't feel like it.”

Nairobi chuckled along with the hysteric boy and doubled her scribbling efforts. Denver snorted and almost immediately turned his head to hide his face, but he couldn't stop the older woman from cooing at him anyways. His right arm shakily reached out to her hand and Nairobi smirked. “Gotcha!”

“GAAH!”

“Yeah, not exactly an improvement, huh?” She laughed as she dug into his second armpit and a tear pricked at the corner of his eye. “Aw, crying?”

“STAHAHAP, PLEHEHEASE!”

“Look, I really like how you beg, but you know what you gotta say buddy. No way 'round.” His laughter got a little wheezy and Nairobi mentally cracked her knuckles. Time for the final push. With a devious smirk, she placed her thumbs right at the center of his armpits and began to press deep circles. If Denver wasn't hysteric before, now he was.

“AHAHAHALRIHIGHT, IHI GIHIHIVE! YOHOU'RE STROHONGEHAHAHA, PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!”

“Alright, alright, jeez.” Nairobi chuckled and finally took her hands away, then she got up and handed Denver his water bottle, watching with slight amusement how he just laid on the ground, panting, before actually sitting up and grabbing it. “You're right, that worked a lot better. Tomorrow, same time, same place?”

“You bet!”, Denver spluttered and pointed at her threatening, but with the tiniest hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Don't think you get away with this!”

“Oh, I'm so scared, Giggles!”

“You should be!”

#money heist #namo writes #tickle fic #denver #nairobi #platonic tickling #ticklish!denver #lee!denver #ler!nairobi

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sanjisock · 3 years

Text

puddles

ao3

i. arlong park

It does not take long for Sanji to learn that Zoro is a man who does not do things in halves.

He watches in fascination as Zoro faces Mihawk without a single moment’s of hesitation — cut in half, bleeding all over the deck, but his sword stays true still. Zoro dreams, not of being a great swordsman, but of being the greatest; either you are, or you are not.

Sanji can understand that. It is not quite different from his own, if you look at it in the right ways — you either believe in the All Blue, or you don’t. It either exists, or it doesn’t. You can’t bargain with faith.

But Sanji isn’t the same kid with the iron mask all those years ago who had nothing to lose; he has Zeff now, and a debt as heavy as a lost limb that he could never even begin to repay. He knows how much a dream can cost. He knows how much love — true love, the kind with complete and utter devotion — can cost.

Cocoyashi Village is in celebration, and Sanji finds himself tucked into a corner of the party together with Zoro, somehow untouched by the cacophony. They’re still sizing each other up, barely knowing one another past a fight and a promise to a captain. But Zoro has trusted him easily in that very fight, and right now there’s a spark in the air between them, something not entirely different from attraction .

Zoro takes a large gulp from his bottle and gestures back at the ship. “You coming?”

This could be something , Sanji thinks. Wants to try, if he’s being honest.

But Zoro is a man who does not do things in halves — he is not a man who tries . If Sanji takes the leap, this is it — they either are, or they aren’t. And if they aren’t — Sanji isn’t sure a crew as small and as tight-knitted as the Straw Hats can handle a break up, especially so early on in their journey.

(Sanji isn’t sure a heart as weak as his can handle a break up).

“I’ll catch up later,” he shrugs, scrambling for an excuse. He suddenly feels like he’s ten again, terrified and running away. “Been wanting to check out this one recipe from that guy over there.”

“If you say so,” Zoro takes the dismissal in stride, and dumps the empty sake bottle into a barrel as he stands up to leave.

Sanji watches him disappear into the night.

ii. enies lobby

The Mosshead has been giving him the nastiest look ever since the ship sailed away from Water Seven, so Sanji isn’t particularly surprised when Zoro stops him on his track on the way to Usopp’s workshop.

Zoro eyes the colorful drink on the tray in Sanji’s hand like it’s challenged him into a duel, before finally grunting, “you need to stop treating Usopp like that.”

Sanji’s eyes unwittingly follow Zoro’s gaze on the drink he made for Usopp — it has five colors, three different fruits, and a whip cream on top. Entirely too flashy for the male crewmembers, usually reserved for important occasions. Sanji feigns obliviousness, still. “Like what?”

“Like he’s going to break anytime soon,” Zoro says.

“You mean nicely ?” Sanji snarls back. “Like a normal human being? Not everyone is like you, Marimo. Some people have emotions. ”

“It’s insulting , is what it is,” Zoro retorts, his whole body leaning into Sanji’s personal space, like a challenge. “There’s never a need for you to coddle him. Usopp made his decisions as a man back then, and he had to learn the consequences for it — ”

“And he has learned , Zoro,” Sanji cuts in, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, the fight leaving his body in a snap. He sighs. “Look — I get that it’s your thing, protecting our pride as a crew and all. I was on your side, remember? But it’s all in the past, and Usopp’s got your message, loud and clear.”

Sanji thinks of a little boy with the iron mask, who were forced to learn all his lessons the hard way; and what comes out next is, “I’m the cook of this ship. Let me feed him.”

Let me take care of him , he doesn’t say, but it means pretty much the same thing.

There must’ve been something in his voice, because Zoro seems taken aback; all the tension bleeds out from his shoulders, and he’s now looking at Sanji with an unreadable expression.

There’s a moment of silence, stretched long enough to the point of awkwardness, before Zoro says, “ — didn’t mean to. I mean — quite a lot of shit went down, just didn’t wanna see you — don’t overexert yourself.”

Sanji blinks. “What are you saying .”

“All this talk about taking care of people,” Zoro says, hand rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of — what? Embarrassment ? “Why wouldn’t you let me —”

Zoro pauses there, sentence trailing off into nothing; but Sanji has always been good at reading Zoro, and he hears the words anyway.

Why wouldn’t you let me take care of you .

Sanji thinks of the party in Cocoyashi, and then hundreds of moments after that — quiet moments in the galley when Zoro helped him wash up the dishes, playful banters that Zoro could only keep up with. Countless enemies they fight side by side, together, the way he feels his heart beat in sync with Zoro’s from across the battlefield.

“Cook —” Zoro puts his hand on Sanji’s shoulder then, and the touch burns , like an electric shock; it jolts Sanji back from his thoughts, a reminder of the reality between them, the way they would fight as hard as they love, and what would that leave him, in the aftermath?

“Let me go ,” Sanji says before he can stop himself, and practically runs to Usopp’s workshop.

iii. thriller bark

“You’re a dumbass ,” Sanji says.

“Hn,” Zoro says, not arguing for once.

“I’ve always known you have moss for brains,” Sanji continues, fully aware he’s rambling but unable to stop himself, “but who would’ve thought you’d be this dumb. What kind of complete and utter idiot would be so fucking reckless against a warlord for the second time in his life.”

Zoro hums noncommittally.

Sanji tightens the bandage across his torso with a little more force than necessary.

Zoro makes a pained grunt, and Sanji winces at the sound; they’ve roughhoused each other countless of times before, but this is the first time Zoro can’t take something Sanji dished. It shouldn’t be surprising though, not after the wounds he has taken from Bartholomew Kuma —

“You need to learn to pick your battles,” Sanji rambles on, because he’s suddenly hit with the realization that if he stops talking he might actually cry . “Or at least employ some strategies. Ever heard of those? That’s what people with brains usually do when they fight instead of simply waving some pointy sticks against the enemy. Raise your hand a bit —” he moves to the wound on Zoro’s arm, taking greater care to make sure he’s as gentle as possible, a silent apology for the earlier mishap. “Right there. Yeah. Anyways, I was saying —”

“Sanji,” Zoro says, and Sanji stops.

It’s so unfamiliar — the way Sanji’s name rolls off Zoro’s tongue, shaped by his deep voice. It sends a shiver down his spine, Sanji’s heart suddenly rattling against his ribcage.

When he looks up, Zoro is staring back at him with half-lidded eyes, something other than pain marring his gaze.

Longing .

Sanji feels his throat dry all of a sudden.

“Sanji,” Zoro says, voice low and rasp, but steady. And then: “stay.”

Sanji drops the bandages in his hands. He can’t do this — not when he’s staring at the very reminder of what it would cost . The idea of losing Zoro, as a nakama , has already torn him from the inside; he can’t imagine what it’s like to see Zoro’s lifeless body on the infirmary bed, as a lover.

He remembers standing in front of her mother’s grave, feeling like he’s coming apart at the seams, and wanting to tear up the stitches; wishing he could just unravel after so much hurt .

“Zoro,” he says, feeling like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, “I — I can’t —”

But when he dares himself to finally meet Zoro’s eyes, the Swordsman has lost consciousness again.

Sanji flees the infirmary.

iv. zou

He flips BIg Mom’s invitation to the tea party over and over again, staring at the words etched on the paper.

Groom: Third Son of the Vinsmokes, Sanji.

The words settle unpleasantly in his gut, and he swallows, trying to calm himself down. He’s no longer the same weak kid with the iron mask; he’s now a Straw Hat, and he’s going to settle his issues with his pathetic excuse of a family once and for all.

That’s all.

...so why does it feel like this isn’t going to end well with Zoro?

Thoughts of the Shitty Swordsman appear in his mind, unbidden. A scowl, definitely — maybe a few scathing words to accompany the look. Something about Sanji and his self-sacrificial tendencies — as if Zoro has any right to lecture anyone about that — or maybe some diatribe about trusting the crew to take care of one of their own.

Which is not what this is about, at all. Of course Sanji trusts everyone in the crew — trusts Luffy to be able to take care of himself. But this is his problem, and he’s the only one responsible to fix it. There’s no need to trouble everyone with a little family problems.

(So why does it still feel like he’s running away?)

v. whole cake island

“First of all, the captain of my own ship came all this way to track me down,” he says, raising a finger for emphasis, “only for me to insult and hurt him to the best of my ability despite no resistance from him whatsoever. That means I cannot go back to your ship right now.”

Run , he remembers being ten, hearing Reiju’s voice through the prison bars. There is no turning back. Your mistakes are final.

“Second of all,” he continues, “the shitty geezer who saved my life and the home where I was raised are being held hostage in case I don’t play along. That means I cannot escape from this wedding.”

Run , he remembers thinking every time he catches sight of Zeff’s leg. This is the cost of your dream. This is the cost of your love.

“Third of all,” he says, voice rising even higher, “the evil family to which I’m related to is walking into Big Mom’s trap, and they’ll all be slaughtered in a matter of hours. They’re scum of the earth to whom I owe nothing but my hatred but I cannot bring myself to abandon them to their fate and run away!”

Run , he tells himself. Your love worths nothing. You are not worth anyone’s love.

“For these three reason,” he says, eyes avoiding Luffy’s. “I cannot return with the rest of you.”

There’s a bright sunburst of pain against his cheek, and the momentum of the punch throws him against a tree bark, shattering under the impact.

“Tell me how you really feel ,” Luffy yells. “What do you want, Sanji?”

For the first time in his life, Sanji stops running.

(i. wano)

Sanji didn’t notice at first, with all the flurry and chaos of the fight against Kaido; but once things have settled down, it occurs to him that Wano is a spring island.

The air is tinged with the kind of heat that barely tips over to unpleasant, uncomfortable without the unbearable fever of summer. Even the nights are wearily humid, which is why he decided to stray away from the celebration feast into the forest, and finds Zoro training alone, swinging his new sword against the wind.

They have not had a moment to themselves ever since — ever since . All of their conversations have mostly been in the heat of the battle, and Sanji isn’t quite sure if they simply did not have the time, or if Zoro has been avoiding him.

It doesn’t matter — here they are, gravitating towards each other still. As if fate herself has weaved a path for them, time and again.

He thinks he can still hear Luffy asking, in the rain: what do you want, Sanji?

“Zoro,” he says, and faces him, head on. “I am in love with you.”

He thinks Zoro would’ve been surprised, once upon a time; maybe if Sanji dared to say it under the Alabasta moonlight, or bathed by the campfire light in the Sky Islands; but now, it feels superfluous, almost redundant. It is no longer the truth that matters between them.

Zoro finally turns to meet his eyes, and sheathes his sword into its scabbard. “What do you want, Cook?”

The same question, again. He’s been running away for so long, he’s forgotten what truly matters, before the risks and the tragedies and the costs . What he truly wants .

The answer to that has always been simple.

“I want us, Zoro. Together. In whichever way you’ll have me.”

Zoro walks up and stops, right in front of Sanji. “You have me ,” he says. “You’ve always had me. It’s you who’s always —” Zoro pauses, gritting his teeth, frustration written all over his face.

“I know,” Sanji says, heartbeat rising up his throat, his ears, his mouth. “Zoro, I —”

“I need to know ,” Zoro says, hand a hair’s breadth away from Sanji’s own, but not quite touching. “I need to know if you will keep running away from me or not.”

Sanji takes the offered hand and closes the distance between them.

It is a short kiss at first, only a cling of lips — and then he feels Zoro’s free hand drifting up to cradle his face as Zoro leans in for another kiss, and another, little dips of kisses, as if Zoro needed the constant reassurance that Sanji is here, with him. And Sanji can give him that, owe him that much — he breathes into the kiss, chases Zoro’s lips and mouths at the curve of his smile.

“This is it, right?” Zoro says when they part, forehead still pressed against one another’s. “Because this is it for me, Cook.”

Sanji thinks of Zoro, who doesn’t do things in halves. Either they are, or they aren’t. And for once he realizes — not the fear or the risk, but how much of an honor it is, to be loved by this man. Entirely and all-consuming.

“This is it,” he tells Zoro, and squeezes Zoro’s hand. “No more running away.”

#opfanfic #zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece

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