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kiriscreama · 8 months

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terrorizing (turn the lights off)

Whumptober 2023 - Day Four

Prompts: Cattle Prod, Shock

Warnings: Electrocution, Torture, Kidnapping, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Kidnapping

Summary: A case goes wrong. Denki gets zapped.

A/N: i never write this kind of thing, please forgive me. i also forgot to finish this one until today. also tbh we’re about to reach the end of what i had pre-written and from there we wade into unknown territory. oh boy.

anyway pls heed the tags. don’t mind the OC, Densuke, he’s from my other mha series and i’m very fond of him. i promise he’ll stay mostly out of the picture. also pls don’t question how this weird torture-livestream business works, just assume it operates on Fictional Dark Web rules lol (alsoalso can you guess the ship?) also the third, this will have a part two!

title from Turn the Lights Off by Tally Hall

also on AO3 | Whumptober Masterlist

Being a hero was the best job in the world, most of the time. But then sometimes Denki ended up strapped to a chair in an abandoned building, and he had to wonder if maybe he’d made a mistake somewhere along the line.

For weeks now, he’d been working on a case — some kind of snuff streaming ring kidnapping sidekicks and the occaisional retired hero, and livestreaming their torture. It wasn’t usually Denki’s kind of scene, but his brother had tipped him off after his hacking group got involved in trying to track the guys.

Usually, Denki wouldn’t encourage Densuke’s e-vigilante exploits. Denki could get in serious trouble for even the suspicion that his older brother might be involved in that kind of thing. But there were five missing sidekicks and two retired heroes that had gone missing in the last six months and Denki knew the agencies had little to no leads. And Densuke knew well enough by now to cover his own tracks. He couldn’t let it lie.

He’d intended to just set up a file at his agency and put something out in the Hero Network, then wash his hands of the whole thing as much as he could. The case could be passed into the hands of someone with better experience in these kinds of kidnapping rings; maybe he’d toss a tip in Hagakure’s direction, it was the kind of case she would be all over.

But something had bothered him about it, and kept bothering him all evening, until Hanta woke with the sun to find Denki searching through forums on his work computer.

One of the missing sidekicks was an eighteen year old, barely graduated from Shiketsu. She was kidnapped on the way home from work at Ryukyu’s hero agency. Denki had heard about it through the grapevine from Kyoka, who’d heard about it from Tsu and Ochako, but he hadn’t realized she was that young.

Not that it would have been okay otherwise, of course, but that was younger than Denki’s youngest sister, and he thought of her as a tiny baby. He couldn’t stop picturing how young he’d been at eighteen, even with an entire war behind him, and how little his sister seemed; there was a smiling school photo of the missing sidekick next her official headshot, and she had the same shiny, hopeful eyes in both, and the next thing he knew he was sobbing on the floor in Hanta’s arms and he didn’t even know the kid.

Not even Katsuki had argued when Denki had proposed that DynaRiot offer to help find the girl. Nejire’s bubbly enthusiasm had been muted when she’d met with him to work on the case.

Even then, he’d kept the worst of the horrors to himself. His brother’s tip had led Denki down an increasingly horrifying rabbithole that he couldn’t bring himself to inflict on another person.

It had taken him a little while but he’d finally found a location. An abandoned building near the edge of the red light district that had once housed offices for a long-defunct adult film studio. He’d gone out on a rare nighttime patrol to get eyes on the place…

And woken up tied to a chair with a man breathing in his face.

Maybe he should’ve mentioned where he was going to someone else at the agency. Oh well. Hindsight was 20/20.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Chargebolt,” the man said, leaning close to Denki. His face filled Denki’s vision, so close that if Denki weren’t gagged, he could bite the guy on his nose. “They say you’re a feisty one.”

He wrapped a large hand around Denki’s jaw and turned his head upwards. Denki wanted to jerk back, but the way his arms were bound tightly to the back of his chair kept him from making any kind of sharp movement.

“Pretty boy, huh?” the man hummed. “Lot of bark, but no bite at all.” There was nothing slimy about it, somehow. He sounded like a man appraising a piece of livestock. Denki clenched his jaw and let the man look.

He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this. He barely knew how he’d ended up here in the first place.

Apparently done with inspecting Denki for flaws, the man grunted and stepped back. He tilted his head, listening to something that someone was telling him over his earpiece.

“A hero like you has many who want to see you get hurt,” the man warned, but he was grinning as he said it like it was the funniest thing in the world. “So we’ve put together something special for you. I hope you put on a good show.”

With that he left the room.

It was quiet, too quiet. Apparently, the former tenants had sprung for good soundproofing — which was a fact Denki decided not to think into very hard — because he couldn’t hear anything more than his own breathing.

He hadn’t watched much of the actual livestreams in all of his researching, beyond what he needed to figure out the identities of the people in them, but he knew the basic structure.

There would be a modulated voice speaking over the video, bargaining with viewers over how much they’d pay for his torture (and occcaisionally mercy). It would run for exactly two hours, or less if the site’s security system sent up an alert, and then the cameras would abruptly shut off.

What he hadn’t known was that the victim spent the whole time in silence, with no way of knowing what would come next and when.

He’d never really understood the phrase “silence is deafening,” before. Denki was intimately familiar with what a deafening noise felt like — it was the wall of sound made by Present Mic’s voice, the rattle of his teeth in the aftermath of one of Katsuki’s explosions, the thrumming in his chest when Kyoka blasted her heartbeat out of her speakers. He could never quite align that feeling with silence, something he had spent twenty-five years avoiding at all costs.

He understood now, how the lack of any noise at all made your head feel static-y and blank. The quietness settled over the room like a thick, heavy blanket. It was borderline painful.

Then, suddenly, almost muffled by the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins, Denki picked up a faint buzzing coming from the walls. He frowned. What could possibly be making that noise, and why was it so familiar?

Horror dawned on him almost before he registered the sound. It was the same one that followed him everywhere, the pulse of electricity vibrating just beneath his skin, and he felt himself tensing up even though he knew better than anyone that it was a terrible idea and —

The room exploded in sparks. Electricity arced between Denki’s hands, even as they were forcibly contracted into fists so tight he could feel blood pooling in his palms. His jaw snapped shut, narrowly missing his tongue. Every single muscle in his body was locked tight, straining against the restraints around him.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped.

Denki’s muscles relaxed slowly, one at a time, as if his body didn’t want to trust that it was over. Denki very much doubted it was.

By his best estimate, they’d just sent around two hundred volts of electricity through his body. It was a lot, enough to potentially be deadly for most people. For Denki, usually it wouldn’t be more than a prickly static feeling, akin to his foot falling asleep. His body was made to channel over a million volts, after all. But he had always had a more difficult time with electricity that he hadn’t generated himself, and the quirk canceling cuffs locked around his ankles kept him from activating his own quirk to help take some of the pressure off of his nerves.

He had a bad feeling about how this was going to go.

Denki wasn’t stupid. All heroes had haters, or people who had a vendetta against them for one reason or another. The higher their ranking, the larger that group became. He’d fought against countless villains who had made that abundantly clear.

And though they were only twenty five, Denki and his classmates had several years of public appearances and field experience on most other heroes their age. Usually, he was proud of them all. Most of them were sitting pretty in the top fifty, and those who weren’t were underground or twilight heroes. But with that popularity came an unforeseen amount of hatred, too. And some of that hatred was violent.

(If Shigaraki could have paid to have All Might tortured, would he have destroyed Japan to get to him? Probably, but Denki needed to distract himself somehow.)

He’d also spent enough time on the case to know that only about half of the streams’ viewers were there because they hated heroes. The rest were just sick fucks who wanted to watch people suffer.

He was a big draw, was the point, and the fact that his quirk let him take a ridiculous amount of electricity before his body would give out would only increase that draw.

It was sickening.

The next time Denki heard the buzzing, he was prepared. He forced himself to stay relaxed as he waited. Tensing his muscles had certainly made their contracting worse the last time, and he wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

The sparks that filled the room this time were even brighter. His nerves sang as electricity lit them all up at once, sending more pain signals to his brain than his body knew what to do with.

Denki had channeled two million volts on a regular basis; on a good day he could push it up to 2.6 million before he went into whey mode, double what he’d been able to manage as a teenager. Hanta had jokingly called him “the world’s most expensive emergency generator” for years, after he’d used his quirk to power the dorms of both Class 3A and Class 3B for three hours after an earthquake knocked the backup systems out.

He could handle a couple thousand volts, easy, no sweat. He ate a couple thousand volts for breakfast. (Almost literally, once, when he’d been sleep-deprived and let Densuke convince him that batteries worked like coffee for their family. Not that it mattered.) But when the buzzing stopped, his head was throbbing.

He didn’t know how he was going to survive two hours of this, let alone who-knows-how-long until he was able to escape. He could only hope that Hanta would raise an alarm when he didn’t come home, and that someone else would be able to figure out the location using his notes.

Denki suffered through three more sessions before the door opened again. This time, it was a man wearing a strange rubber outfit, and carrying a massive pole with two prongs on the ends. It was the biggest cattle prod Denki had ever seen. He didn’t think he wanted to find out how strong it was.

He tried to make eye contact with the man through his mirrored visor, but the guy paid him no mind. He simply hefted the prod into his arms and pressed the prongs to Denki’s thigh.

Denki was suddenly very sure he was about to die.

“Wait, fu-“ he started, but the man pressed the trigger and Denki's world went white.

It was easily the worst pain Denki had ever experienced. Worse than the time he’d fallen into a pool and accidentally set off his quirk. Worse than getting stabbed or shot or that one time he’d gotten a laser through the back of his hand. It felt like every cell in his body was on fire. Every muscle in his body contracted so tightly that it felt like he was going to tear something. Somewhere, distantly, he recognized the metallic taste of blood between his teeth and the dampness of blood dripping from his nose.

Stupidly, wildly, he hoped it wouldn’t stain his white shirt.

The pain was over quickly, and Denki had just enough time and brainpower to register the meaty smell of burning flesh before the man hit the trigger again. He zapped Denki over and over, each one a short jolt of agony that felt like an eternity, until he was left a babbling, drooling mess.

He peered through the fog, fingers automatically curling into a bloody thumbs up even as he babbled incoherently at the man in the rubber suit. There was something wet on his face, but he wasn’t sure if it was drool or blood. He didn’t even know what drool and blood were, or even his own name.

Where was he? Who was he?

Time felt like soup and he was a little carrot stuck to the bottom of the bowl. Had he ever had soup? What was a bowl?

He pondered this for only a moment longer before the world grew foggier and dimmer. Something was being pumped into the room, but he only had a moment to drown silently in his own panic before the room faded away into a cold, inky blackness.

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lemonzestywrites · 2 years

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caring you into bed because you fell asleep on the couch waiting for me to get home from work, something that's pretty much tradition at this point? ❤❤

(thank you for sending in a prompt!! if you like this feel free to send in an intimacy prompt!!)

====

Evan Buckley is a very strong man; that is an undeniable fact. And Eddie absolutely loves that about his boyfriend (another undeniable fact). He loves when he wears tight shirts that make the muscles of his arms look huge. Or when Buck insists on carrying as many groceries as he can in a single trip, those moments, Eddie can’t help but be impressed- and or very attracted to Buck.

Hugs from Buck, though, are some of his favorite ones on Earth, second only to the ones Christopher gives him.

When Buck hugs him, Eddie can’t help but melt into the warm expanse of his arms. Within the bubble, they create together that he’s filled with an overwhelming sensation of safety and love. And right now, it’s the only thing Eddie craves more than anything.

They usually have the same shifts together (perks of falling in love with someone you work with). However, there are some dreaded days where plans alter- i.e., getting the flu.

It wasn’t anything major, one that he was coming down from. Still, Buck had been insistent Eddie take a day off to be sure not to push himself any further after being sick for a couple of days. A sentiment Bobby also agreed to.

So much to his own dismay, he had spent the next 24 hours mindlessly lounging around his own house, and with Christopher already at Pepa’s as a precaution, Eddie had found himself with little to do. It’s so odd occupying a house by himself. It’s not often he has such an expansive amount of alone time. Usually, he’s with Buck or Chris. But today isn’t the case. He tried to busy himself with projects in the meantime. He cleaned his kitchen, did four loads of laundry, and played an ungodly amount of solitaire.

All of it is nothing more than temporary, though, especially as nighttime rolls around. There are only a handful of times he and Buck have had to sleep apart since they got together, and Eddie dreads it whenever it comes around. Whenever he lies in bed alone on nights like these, there’s an odd ache buried within his chest that slithers through, twisting and curling, reminding him of the cold isolation he faces. Eddie always hopes he can push through it, but the night had other motives. He had clambered into his bed, but somehow his bed had felt more frigid without another body beside him.

Eddie spent a good hour tossing and turning before he made his way into the living room and onto the couch. He turned on some random, trashy reality show hoping it’d be enough white noise for him to fall asleep to, but the ache beneath his chest doesn’t dissipate. It stays there gnawing at him like a dog with a chew toy, unrelenting and uneasy. He had tried to rest, he really did, but the best he manages to gets is a couple light naps throughout the night that never seem to last long.

So that’s how he ends up here, strewn across his couch on season four on a show he stopped caring about three seasons ago, sleep-deprived all because he misses his boyfriend. He glances over to the clock beside him- Buck should be getting home now soon unless they had gotten called out on overtime, but that is simply a thought Eddie refuses to think about.

But then again, this isn’t an uncommon occurrence for them to wait on the couch for the other. When it’s Buck waiting, Eddie will usually tuck himself beside him and join him on their couch (which is admittedly much too small for either of their frames).

On the other hand, if it’s Eddie waiting, Buck will usually pick him up and carry him off to bed. It’s a silent little comfort that he loves to indulge in. The moments don’t come by often, but he adores them when they do.

He just barely catches the sound of keys turning at his front door before he’s hit with the fluttering realization of Buck’s home. The quick elation hits him, and he’s flooded with unabashed joy that makes its way in waves over his body. He blinks his eyes open with as much willpower as he can muster, trying to fight the tiredness he feels, and is greeted with Buck beside him, smiling at him. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You’re back,” Eddie mumbles happily, doing his best to pry his eyes open.

“Yeah, I am,” he smiles. Buck looks down at the expanse of the couch Eddie’s laid on, with a slight simmer of disbelief in his eyes. “You waited for me…” he whispers quietly, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.

“Course I did,” Eddie yawns, his words becoming entangled and coated with deep exhaustion. The icy air around them slips underneath the surface of his blanket, sending a shiver down his back. He curls further towards Buck, chasing the heat radiating off his chest. “Bed was cold wi’out you.”

He feels another warm kiss get planted onto him, this time onto his neck, just under his jaw. Eddie will blame the giggle he let out on nothing but fatigue alone.

“I love you,” Buck murmurs against Eddie’s neck, his lips brushing lightly along the skin there.

“Love-” a yawn creeps his way through the words, and Eddie does his best to push past it, “Love you too.”

“Here,” Buck says, with a smile tugging at his lips before he slips both arms underneath Eddie’s frame. “Let’s get you to bed.” Suddenly Eddie feels himself being lifted up off the couch as Buck picks him up effortlessly. Another laugh slips out from Eddie at the shift in positions. His head settles against Buck’s shoulder as he starts padding his way carefully towards their bedroom.

Eddie’s chest fills with a dizzying glow that warms him from the tips of his toes. He feels such an unapologetic joy pull across his features, enjoying how Buck carries him with ease.

His boyfriend’s so strong.

Big strong man.

Buck suddenly chuckles. “Am I now?”

Oh. He must’ve said that out loud.

Another chuckle. “You did.”

Huh?

Eddie looks up to Buck through tired, hooded eyes.

“I love you.”

Now that Eddie knows he said aloud, and from the soft smile that grows across Buck’s face, he heard him too.

He simply retucks his head into the crook of Buck’s shoulder while he eases their bedroom door open. Buck gently sets him down onto the mattress, and Eddie can’t help but melt into the smooth comfort their shared California King brings him. Heavy tiredness drags at his muscles so far he almost doesn’t think to pull the comforter over himself. Thankfully Buck is already a couple steps ahead of him. Eddie feels the warmth of the blanket enveloping him, and he relaxes back into the feeling.

He must’ve dozed off for a moment because the next thing Eddie feels is the wave of warmth that crawls up by his side, followed shortly by the aroma of the body wash Buck keeps stored in his locker back at the station. Eddie opens his eyes slightly, and his sight is filled with the presence of his boyfriend softly looking down at him, dawning a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He peels back the covers for Buck to slide underneath, and then finally, finally, Eddie feels Buck wrap his arms around his waist, pulling them in closer together. The rest of it falls together out of habit as Eddie tucks his head in the crook of Buck’s shoulder, their legs wordlessly tangle together. He sighs in relief, taking in the newfound warmth and weight of Buck’s arms around him, holding him, surrounding him in blanketed serenity Eddie could never tire of if he tried.

The tension rolls off his shoulders with every breath, becoming more and more curled into the sensation. His eyelids become heavy with each passing minute, and now Eddie doesn’t try to fight it. Here he has exactly what he needs.

Buck presses a sweet kiss to Eddie’s temple. “Go to sleep, babe,” He whispers gently, his voice soothing and soft against the tufts of Eddie’s hair. “I got you. I’m here.”

Peaceful slumber tugs at him again, and as Eddie feels himself drift off, he notices for the first time all day, the ache in his chest is gone.

#okay i loved this prompt so much i had a field day with this one #911 #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #zestywrites

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boonki · 3 years

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“You look absolutely horrible.” For the prompts!

OKAY I KNOW YOU ASKED THIS LIKE THREE HUNDRED YEARS AGO i am so sorry ive had to work a ton lately and have just been so tired, i havent written at all recently

BUT

here you go!! some nice sleepy vibes from yours truly at 2:20 am, apologies if there are any mistakes

_______

The only light on in their shared kitchen space is above the sink, drowning the space in a burnt orange color, like the warm glow of a fire. As he stumbles into the room, Obi-wan nearly misses Anakin sitting at the table, fiddling with droid parts, back curled over and head drooped to study a piece of machine in his hands. How he’s even able to see is far beyond Obi-wan, but he’s learned to let it go throughout the years.

Obi-wan turns the knob on the stove and shuffles the kettle to check for water, startling Anakin out of his meditative state.

“Oh, Obi-wan.” Anakin looks up at him and squints, exhaustion forming neat lines around the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

Before reaching up to the cabinet for a well-loved mug, Obi-wan catches how pale Anakin is, how dark purple blooms around his eyes like bruises, how he seems to shrink into himself. Obi-wan has seen Anakin look tired before, especially when he was younger and put so much pressure on himself to perfect his schoolwork, but this is on the particularly bad end of things. Anakin’s hair is greasy, the long curls pushed back and tucked behind his ears, and the small blanket draped around his shoulders does nothing to hide the fact that Anakin is still wearing the same shirt from two days ago. He looks absolutely horrible.

“You look absolutely horrible,” Obi-wan says, the mug settling on the countertop with a clink. “Have you even tried to sleep?”

Anakin frowns. “Hey, you don’t look much better. We’re both awake at what,” his head swivels around as he looks for a clock, and finding none, guesses, “four in the morning? What’s your excuse, old man?”

Obi-wan hums noncommittally at that, amusement assuaging the growing worry nagging at his chest. He pulls a tea bag out of the flimsy cardboard box left out on the counter, and rips the packaging open, letting the sachet dangle into the cup. He lets the silence linger.

With a softer tone, Anakin tries again. “You can’t sleep either?”

Obi-wan pours the boiling water into the mug, watching the color turn into a deep shade of purple, and he gently bounces the bag up and down, encouraging it to steep. “I think you’ll find, my dear padawan, that I’ve evolved past the need for sleep.”

Anakin’s eyebrows flatten, and he snorts. “I’ll make sure to pass that along to Cody, I’m sure he’ll agree with you.”

A smile tugs at Obi-wan’s mouth. “No, I,” he pauses, taking a breath, “I keep waking up. Figured a cup of tea would help.”

All of the mirth vanishes from Anakin’s face, leaving only unadulterated worry. Obi-wan looks down at his tea. They both know a euphemism for nightmares when they hear one by now, considering they’ve created half of them on their own. Fighting a gruesome, bloody, and endless war will do that to a person. Fighting a gruesome, bloody, and endless war where a good portion of the deaths are on your hands, on your conscience, even more so.

The air is still between them, but dense with emotion. Obi-wan rarely admits his nightmares to anyone, and by the myriad of expressions racing through Anakin’s features, he can tell Anakin is struggling with the right response.

Obi-wan sips his tea.

“Sometimes, I,” Anakin starts, clearing his throat, “I wish I knew them better, my men who died. I see them in my dreams.” He’s staring down at his hands, either as a distraction or remembering the blood he’s washed off. The droid parts sit motionlessly beneath them.

Obi-wan leans back on the counter, holding the steaming mug up to his chin. “So do I,” he nearly whispers, grateful for Anakin’s admission, his attempt to empathize with Obi-wan. He wants to say more, wants to sit down and let out the demons haunting his dreams, but he’s afraid that they’d rip all his bandages on the way out and tear him apart completely. It’s easier, he thinks, to keep it all inside, contained, controlled. But in the dim and molten light of the kitchen, with his face hidden in the shadows, he wants to be vulnerable. He also wants Anakin to get some rest.

“Do you want to come sleep with me?” Obi-wan asks, eyes darting up to Anakin’s face.

Anakin’s eyes go wide, and he straightens up in his seat. “What?”

He suddenly realizes what he’s said, and he can feel his ears burn. “No, not like that.” He dips the tea bag in and out of the mug, and Anakin relaxes a bit, though still wary, looking somehow disappointed. “When you were a youngling, you used to crawl into bed with me when you couldn’t sleep. You thought I never noticed.”

“You remember that?”

Obi-wan smiles to himself, gazing wistfully down into his mug. “Of course, dear one. You weren’t the only one who slept better.”

Anakin’s eyebrows are knitted together, his lips parted. “Oh.” He looks thoughtful. “Sure, then. Your room?”

Warmth floods Obi-wan’s chest in anticipation, not at all feeling guilty about his careful manipulation. He knows Anakin could never turn down helping others, it’s in his nature.

Anakin’s little droid project is completely forgotten as Anakin stares at him for an answer.

“Considering I don’t quite feel like tripping over half an engine, yes, my room.” Obi-wan takes one final sip of his tea and sets it by the sink, treading over the cold floor back into his room.

With a scoot of his chair, and loud, heavy footsteps, Anakin follows, sliding Obi-wan’s door shut behind him, leaving the pair in complete darkness. Obi-wan is still in his sleep shirt and shorts from before, so he slips into bed, pulling back the covers for Anakin to join him. He hears the soft thump of clothing dropping to the floor and then a dip in the mattress next to him.

Obi-wan lays on his back, as he assumes does Anakin.

Then there’s a shuffle as Anakin readjusts, and with a slight startle, Obi-wan feels a bare arm rest against his chest, a face in his neck, a leg thrown over his. It’s odd, but rather nice. Obi-wan doesn’t remember the last time he felt so safe.

“Is this okay?” Anakin mumbles into the crook of his neck, blowing hot air over his collarbones.

“Yes.” Obi-wan faintly wonders if Anakin can feel his heartbeat.

“What were your nightmares about?”

Obi-wan considers this. Blood, so much blood, headless bodies strewn over a hopeless landscape, their heads coming to life and blaming their deaths on him, his call, his decisions. Qui-gon, standing in the flames, yelling at him to be better, to have saved him, saved his men, to save Anakin. Stillness, as he stands utterly alone and deserted, everyone finalizing realizing they were better off without him, because he is worthless, unlovable, tainted-

“The war.” Obi-wan answers, his voice cracking. “And you?”

When no reply comes, Obi-wan wraps his arm around Anakin’s back, tracing his spine, the flesh warm and smooth underneath his fingertips. Anakin’s breaths come slow and even, and his hand twitches once.

Already asleep, then.

Obi-wan bites a lip to keep from chuckling. Maybe this is the trick to get him to sleep. He rests his cheek against his hair, presses a light kiss to the top of his head.

“I dream of losing you, dear one,” he whispers out to no one, letting the honesty linger in the darkness above them. He trusts the nighttime to keep his secrets.

When they both wake up in the morning, Obi-wan is sure there will be some level of embarrassment from cuddling, from cracking open their hard exteriors to each other. They’ll probably be sent out to the frontlines and never speak of this again.

He feels the sturdy muscles of Anakin’s sides, the dip of his waist and rise of his hips.

For now, Obi-wan holds him, keeps him safe from the torment of his own brain, and lets him get some much needed sleep.

___

Light billows out from underneath the door when Obi-wan wakes, morning having come and gone long ago.

Anakin has curled further into him, practically seeping into his bones. There’s a leg thrown over his waist, face completely smooshed in his neck, and his arm drapes over his chest, Anakin’s palm cupping the side of his face. Delicate snores come from Anakin’s nose, and Obi-wan’s neck is hot from Anakin’s breath. Obi-wan’s hand is settled in the small of Anakin’s back, the other arm thrown up above Obi-wan’s head.

A languid grin finds its home on Obi-wan’s face, sleep tugging at his edges. He hasn’t felt so well rested in years.

Not wanting to wake Anakin, Obi-wan flutters shut his eyes, and lets himself drift back off, soaking in the feeling of love and security that pool together in his heart.

He can feel Anakin breathing steadily on top of him, peacefully.

The war will have to wait.

#boonki writes #obikin #obiwan #obiwan kenobi #anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars #prompts #ask #sonda walkin #i hope this makes sense #i wrote this at 2 am whats good #fanfic #hurt/comfort #sleep deprivation #obiwan & anakin #obi-wan/Anakin #THEY JUST NEED SOME FUKIN SLEEP DUDE #let them cuddle

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hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 6

Prompt: Insomnia

Summary: The Disaster Lineage™ has a long history of being horrible at getting the sleep they need.

Read on AO3

Good Sleep is Hard to Find

"It's called insomnia, Obi-Wan," the Twilek healer looks unamused as she sits across from him. "And no, it's not normal."

Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't particularly like going to the healers. In fact, he avoids them as much as he can. Unfortunately, in this case, Master Che cornered him as he left the training sala and practically dragged him by the ear to her office.

"It really is not too bad. I've grown accustomed to-"

"To what? Four hours of sleep? On a good night?" Master Che rolls her eyes. "You Jedi Knights are going to give me an aneurysm one day."

"I do hope not, Master. Then all of us would be walking around with untreated concussions and scantily wrapped blaster wounds."

She leans back in her chair, her bright blue eyes softening. "Yes, likely. Listen, I brought you here because your little late-night training sessions have found their way down the rumor mill. People are concerned for you."

Obi-Wan glances out the window at the darkened megapolis. He didn't think anyone knew he would go to the training rooms when he couldn't sleep. Though, nothing can really happen in this temple without every other knight and padawan hearing about it.

"I figured it was a good way to tire myself out."

"Well lucky for you, you won't have to do katas at three in the morning anymore," she reaches into her desk and slides two pill bottles across the table. Obi-Wan gingerly picks them up, looking up at her inquisitively. "One is a natural supplement. Think of it as your first line of defense. If you're not feeling tired at bedtime, take this first. It's the natural hormone your body produces to make you fall asleep. Very safe."

"Right. And this one?" he shakes the other. A flicker of a smirk appears on her lips.

"That's the good stuff. It should knock you right out, but only take one pill a night, max."

Seems easy enough. Obi-Wan looks between the two bottles, internally a little glad Master Che corralled him into here. He is not keen on drugs usually, but his current situation has become quite distressing... Maybe he'll finally get a decent sleep.

"And if neither work?" he asks, a little fearful of her answer.

"I'll be impressed if the second doesn't work, but I suppose I can teach your padawan how to do a proper sleep suggestion."

He points an accusatory finger at her. "You wouldn't dare!" The healer smiles fully now, shaking her head. As she looks at him longer, her smile fades again into sympathy.

"Obi-Wan, I do hope you plan on using these medicines. Insomnia is very common, and you are certainly not the only Jedi Knight on this regimen."

He sighs, clutching the bottles in his fist. "I just don't understand why I can't sleep, I suppose. Anakin tires me out his fair share, and I feel exhausted, I just can't seem to actually sleep."

"Well," she shifts in her seat. "It tends to get worse in times of stress-- like having a teenage padawan... or when processing trauma."

Red. So much red, and the sight of a lightsaber through Qui-Gon's abdomen flashes through his mind. He blinks away the image, though he knows it will be there in his dreams anyway. It always is. But he isn't here to discuss that, even if Master Che seems insistent on doing a full exam on him while she has him trapped in the halls.

"Right, well," he stands. "I should let you get your own sleep and try to get some of my own."

She looks a little disappointed as he pines for the door but she stands and they bow goodbye. "I don't want to hear about any more nighttime training sessions, Knight Kenobi. I have eyes and ears everywhere, you know."

He smiles. "Yes, Master Che, I understand."

Yet somewhere between the Halls of Healing and Obi-Wan's apartment, he seems to forget their understanding. He sits on his bed, staring at the bottles in either hand. The morning will be upon Coruscant in a short few hours, and he can't risk being knocked out and missing morning meditation and training with Anakin. He sets the bottle of sleeping pills on his side table and looks at the supplements. She claimed these were natural, only a mild aid... perhaps he can at least try these for his few hours of sleep.

They go down easy with water, and he lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His muscles are still buzzing from hours of repeating kata after kata, honing his acrobatics, and dueling with the training droids. It baffles him how his body can feel so exhausted but he doesn't find a wink of sleep. The reality of his sleeplessness is a number barely present in the back of his mind. He tries not to think about it as the hours tick up. Twenty-four hours. Thirty-six hours. Forty. Fifty. Sixty.

The worst part is he is trying to sleep. Truly. He wants nothing more than for his head to hit the pillow and to blink out of consciousness for a good six hours or so. But to no avail. He envies the other knights who have taught themselves to sleep whenever they can, wherever they can. In the deep wells of the Temple windows, pilot chairs of ships, standing up in some cases. Sometimes he is tempted to ask them their secret, but he suspects that just like he is wired to be awake forevermore, they are made to find their rest.

Everything is the will of the Force, isn't it? Qui-Gon always told him there was a reason for everything. A plan that he may not be able to see now, but later he will. His greatest comfort has always been that there will one day be a purpose for the agony he goes through. One day it will all make sense.

He closes his eyes. Maybe that will help. He doesn't feel drowsy but he isn't sure if he is supposed to with this supplement.

Obi-Wan can feel the edges of sleep nearby. He tries to grab them, hang onto the feeling of spiraling into blissful unconsciousness, but it's like a switch he can't reach. He rolls to his side, squeezing his eyes shut again. Tries to push out every thought from his mind, but somehow thinking about how he needs to think about nothing is more occupying to his mind than actually thinking about anything else.

So he lies there. Switches to his other side. Back to his back. Experiments with lying on his stomach, and decides it cranes his neck too much. And when he finds himself on his back for the third time he realizes the light has slowly crept into his room and Anakin's alarm is blaring on the other side of their apartment.

He sighs. Sits up and rubs his eyes. Fifty-five hours.

Obi-Wan struggles his way through their meditation. His heavy intake of caff made him jittery and his lack of sleep made getting a good grasp on the Force difficult. Even Anakin seemed to notice his lack of propriety, which only made Obi-Wan feel worse. After lunchtime, Obi-Wan goes to one of his knight elective courses. It's saber training concentrating on Form III, which he usually enjoys, but today he lingers near the back of the group. His vision is starting to get hazy, and things look as though they are moving when he knows they aren't. After getting hit by three training bolts that he should have been able to deflect, he decides to bench himself for the remainder of the class.

He has a feeling this will get back to Master Che, but he doesn't care anymore.

Anakin is back from his own classes when he gets back to his apartment. The padawan is lounging on the couch with a datapad balanced on his knees. When he sees Obi-Wan come through the door, he jumps up.

"Master you're back!" he says with more enthusiasm than Obi-Wan is used to from his teenage apprentice.

"Anakin, hello," he says, raising an eyebrow and glancing around the apartment. "What did you break?"

Anakin crosses his arms. "Why do you think I broke something?"

Obi-Wan sets down his training bag by the door. "Just a feeling, I suppose."

"Well a wrong feeling, Master," he says, walking with long strides into the kitchen. Yes, he is definitely up to something.

Anakin pulls out two plates, each with sandwiches stacked tall with meat. Obi-Wan also suddenly realizes the kettle is on the stove and two mugs are sitting out, prepped with tea bags.

"I asked one of the Masters what kinds of food help people go to sleep. They said turkey and chamomile tea are good," Anakin looks up at him hesitantly. "I thought maybe some turkey sandwiches and tea for dinner may help you... you know. Sleep better."

Obi-Wan feels like he might cry. He blames it on the sleep deprivation but seeing the effort Anakin put into a problem he had no idea his padawan even picked up on touches him. The boy can be a terror sometimes, but Qui-Gon was right about his kindness. Obi-Wan smiles, walking up to the fourteen-year-old and squeezing his shoulder.

"This looks wonderful, Anakin. I have been having some sleep troubles, and I'm sorry if I worried you."

"When I can't sleep I like to try to tire myself out. Have you tried that, Master?"

He smiles softly. More than you know, young one. "Unfortunately, Master Che was not too happy with that method. She gave me some medication to help, instead."

Anakin takes a big bite of his sandwich, making a face. "That's not as fun."

Obi-Wan takes his own bite of the sandwich that is quite literally stacked with turkey. It might be half a bird here alone. "That's what I told her, too."

Anakin laughs, jumping up to grab the screeching kettle and finish preparing the tea. Sixty-four hours now, but this time he has a good feeling about resetting the clock for tomorrow. The master and apprentice enjoy the rest of their meal, and then Obi-Wan retires to his room. With his belly full of comfort food and tea, he actually feels the long-lost tug of drowsiness enticing him to bed. Even with such a feeling, he picks up the medication that Master Che prescribed him.

Without adequate sleep, he can't be the Master Anakin needs him to be. The boy deserves all that and more. Obi-Wan swallows the sleeping pill without another thought and lies back in bed. It takes only a few minutes for him to drift into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

__________

A scream is caught in his throat as Anakin is forcibly thrown out of his nightmare. He chokes on it, coughing a few times to clear his throat and then wiping the cold sweat off his brow and upper lip. It's pitch black in the room, but he waits a moment to turn on the light. Sometimes, when he just lets his eyes adjust naturally he can pretend for a few moments that he's anywhere other than the cold quarters of a star destroyer. He can be back on Coruscant, in Padmé's comfortable bed with the weight of her comforters pressing him into the mattress. Or in their lake country villa on Naboo, her body wrapped around him with the sound of running water nearby. Sometimes he is back with his mother, her fingers rifling through his hair soothingly as she lulls him back to sleep.

Anywhere where he isn't alone on a bunk harder than durasteel. Sometimes he thinks he'd rather sleep on the dunes of Tatooine than his bunk. (Obi-Wan usually tells him to stop being dramatic when he goes that far.)

But these little divergences are enough to lull him out of the panic of his dreams and into a better state of mind. By the time his eyes do adjust to the blank walls and regulation furniture he can decide whether or not he will be returning to sleep for the night.

They've been getting worse lately. The dreams. They happen nearly every night now. Not always the same thing, like before his mother's death, but always intense and horrific. Always making him wake up close to tears or worry that he's been screaming and Ahsoka or Obi-Wan will come bursting in at any moment. Sometimes he is calm enough to put going back to sleep to chance. Other times he prefers to just accept a day without sleep.

Obi-Wan would kill him if he knew. Ahsoka gives him enough trouble when he yawns his way through briefing meetings, so he's surprised she hasn't tattled on him yet. Or maybe she has, and the old man has decided it would be hypocritical to nag him about it. Obi-Wan isn't exactly known for his healthy sleep schedules either.

He doesn't have good feelings about sleep tonight. His heart is still racing and he can still see a horrific scene of Ahsoka sobbing with a lifeless Obi-Wan in her arms, blood is trickling out of his nose and ears, and eyes glossy and set. It's a moment he's seen a few times. Sometimes Obi-Wan is already dead and other times he's falling and Anakin is running frantically to save him.

He never makes it.

Tonight was no different.

Anakin turns on the light and slips on a pair of trousers. His hair is a mess, per usual, but running his fingers through it a few times seems to do the trick. He still has to squint as he steps out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights of the ship are about as harsh as staring straight into a star, but it wakes him up as good as a cup of caff. It's the middle of the nightshift, but the halls are still just as busy as usual. Since there is no distinct day or night in the middle of deep space, they are just suggestions to ensure people actually sleep.

It's not as comforting as taking walks around the sleeping Temple when he can't sleep. There is a blissfulness to being awake when the rest of the planet isn't that Anakin finds refreshing from the usual bustle of the day. The best he can find is the mess, where only a few troopers sit around at the tables with cups of caff or snacks.

Anakin helps himself to his own cup, pouring a decent amount of sugar in for good measure. He settles down at a table with his datapad. Maybe this time he'll actually get his council report in on time, at least. He spends the next hour or so filling out his paperwork and working up a decent collection of caff cups and snack wrappers. By the time he reaches his last assigned task, the dinner rush has begun for the night-shifters.

"General Skywalker?" he looks up to see Rex standing with his own cup of caff in hand. Anakin gives him a friendly smile.

"Oh hey, Rex, what are you doing up?"

"Could ask you the same, sir," he sits down on the bench, eyeing the four other empty cups strewn about.

"Paperwork. Couldn't sleep."

The corner of Rex's mouth upturns in a half-smile. "More and more like General Kenobi, every day."

"Don't even joke like that, Rex, I would never hear the end of it," he says, though a small part of his mind curses that the captain is actually right. Using paperwork as an excuse to avoid sleep? He might as well grow a beard and have a Core accent.

"Only joking, of course, sir."

"So what's your excuse?"

"My excuse?"

"Our first call isn't for another few hours, and I've never seen you up and about at this time."

Rex takes a long sip from his drink. Stalling, it seems.

"To be frank, sir, ever since Umbara I tend to... wake up earlier."

Anakin searches the clone captain's face, and suddenly he recognizes it. The dark circles and bloodshot eyes are faint, but definitely there.

"The dreams keep you up?" he asks casually. Anakin has always liked Rex because he isn't afraid to be more candid around him. He has the respect of a leader, but he isn't so uptight about his rank. Through their time working closely together, they have actually begun to be somewhat of friends. At least, Anakin considers Rex to be a friend.

The clone looks up at him with surprise. "Well, sometimes, yes. How did you--"

"Like I said, I'm not Obi-Wan. Paperwork doesn't keep me up at night."

It feels good to actually admit it aloud to someone. To be able to say he's having bad dreams without getting a lecture from his master or getting watched like a hawk by his padawan. Especially if Rex is having the same issue.

They let this revelation blanket around them as they continue to sip on their caff. Even with six cups in his system, Anakin's body feels heavy and fatigued. It takes much longer to complete the last form with the amount of time he has to read and reread things to make sure he is understanding it right. His vision keeps blurring as though he is on the verge of falling asleep.

That's something Anakin has never had a problem with-- falling asleep. It takes him mere minutes to close his eyes and fall into a deep sleep. It's just the damned dreams that wake him up and ruin his rest.

"Uh, sir?" he hears through a clearing throat. Anakin opens his eyes and realizes he has dozed off with his forehead on the datapad. He smiles away the embarrassment, shaking his head.

"This caff sucks."

"You know they have decaf out after lunch right?"

He blinks. "Decaff?" Anakin says it as though it's a word in a foreign language.

"Yes, you have to request for a pot of regular. New health initiative started in the last month or so to improve... sleep."

The Jedi general crosses his arms over his chest. "And nobody told me?"

"I suppose they thought the label on the pot sufficed."

He glances over at the caff machine and, in fact, there is a label reading DECAF. Fair enough. He looks back at Rex, who is passively amused by all of this.

"Kix has too much power. It's going to go to his head."

Rex smiles, shaking his head but not disagreeing. Now disgusted by his caff, the knight casts aside the half-empty cup. The lack of caffeine definitely explains why he is still so tired.

"I should be going to prep for the morning briefing, then," Rex says, standing up and grabbing his bucket from the bench. He downs the remainder of his coffee and tucks his helmet under his arms. "Thanks for the company, though, general."

"Anytime. I suppose I will see you at the update."

"Oh right," Rex says, pausing and looking back down at him. "I have messages for you. General Kenobi commed to let you know they have postponed the update meeting to tomorrow. And we will be in hyperspace another full day before arriving at our check-in point."

He does the mental gymnastics of cycling through his schedule and realizes his entire day is clear of meetings. A day off? That is about as rare as Ahsoka not being snippy. He even has his paperwork done now so...

"Well in that case, maybe I will take the decaf as a sign and... take a nap." He can feel his mind more clear now. Usually, that means he can manage a few good hours without another nightmare if he has any at all. Though he was adamant about not wanting to go back to bed a few hours ago, suddenly laying down sounds amazing.

Rex smiles. "Very good, sir. I will be sure to comm you if we need anything, of course."

The clone captain walks off, and Anakin looks around at his little collection of trash, tired and a little dumbfounded.

He has a sudden suspicious feeling Ahsoka hasn't been tattling to Obi-Wan, but to Rex. Anakin smiles to himself, shakes his head, and gathers up his things to go back for some extra shut-eye.

__________

When Ahsoka can't sleep, she pulls her old Jedi cloak out of her closet. It's not something she wears anymore-- not for a long time at this point-- but it is something she has kept close to her ever since going on the run from the Empire.

There is just something about that thick, wooly fabric that is like a security blanket when she encases herself in it. It still smells like a mix of the standard-issue laundry detergent and engine oil. She can run her fingers along the hem, recognizing the familiar fray on the right sleeve that she used to pick at when she was nervous, or the hole that Master Kenobi had to patch three separate times in the pocket. There is a burnt edge on the hood where Anakin managed to nick it with his saber, and sometimes the tip of her montral would peek out.

Today she can't sleep, and she isn't sure why. Sometimes, she has these periods of time where falling asleep and staying asleep are more difficult than they should be. She suspects it has something to do with stress, which she has plenty of, all the time. The cloak always seems to help, so she grabs it. It always reminds her of Master Obi-Wan and his habit of losing his own cloaks. When she pulls it around herself it feels like a hug from Anakin. And when she closes her eyes she pretends she is in another time and another place. A time when her mentors watched over her and protected her and she wasn't so alone.

A part of her thinks that somewhere in the Force they are still looking over her. It is a Jedi teaching that she still holds a belief in that in death all are returned to the Force... Which means the same energy field that surrounds her and binds her is Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Plo Koon. Every other Jedi that didn't make it through Order 66. Though the thought of their deaths brings a deep sadness she still cannot quite process, it also reminds her that when she wraps the Force around herself she isn't as alone as she feels. Sleep comes easier.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday6 #insomnia #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #rex #ahsoka tano #it is 5am and i am posting this #because i too have insomnia #and i told myself i would post day 5 and 6 today #and well #before the sun comes up counts as today for me #this has been one of my WIPs for forever #so im glad to finally post it #but it needs some work #so let me know what you think!

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steves-on-a-plane · 4 years

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Decorate

For @thefanficfaerie‘s OTP Challenge (2020) Words: 619 Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Prompt: Spooktacular Halloween: Day 1 - Decorate Summary: Tony is up late one night working when he finds out that his wife, Reader is also still up. He finds her in the lab, working over some ideas for elaborate Halloween Decor.

A glance at his watch told Tony it was well past midnight. At this rate he’d be lucky to get any sleep before he headed to the office in the morning. He yawned and saved his progress before slamming the lid of his laptop closed. It was time for the quarterly reviews of Stark Industries’ finances and he always liked to go over the numbers personally before the board meeting. Tony picked up his empty coffee cup and walked towards the kitchen.

“Alright JARVIS, I’m gonna hit the hay. Can you activate the nighttime alarms?” He put his coffee cup in the dishwasher and started walking towards the main staircase up to the master bedroom.

“I’d be happy to Mr. Stark.” JARVIS answered back. “It’s just that, Mrs. Stark is in still in your lab, so I won’t be able to activate the nighttime alarms in that zone.”

“Mrs. Stark is where?” Tony asked, his foot still hovering over the bottom step of the staircase that led upstairs.

“In your lab, Sir.” JARVIS answered.

“Why didn’t she go to bed?” Tony yawned. He shuffled his way to the lab where he found you bent over a table of schematics. “Sweetheart, it’s Four A.M. what are you doing?”

“Oh, hi Baby!” You smiled up at him. “I thought you went to sleep hours ago.” You reached for the energy drink can by your elbow and gulped generously from it. “I knew you’d be working on finance stuff tonight, so I started my own little project down here.”

“Uh-huh, and is that little project a threat to Homeland Security?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrows. “Because as I mentioned it’s four A. M. and you’re full of caffeine and working on blueprints of…are those blueprints of our house?” He lifted the top sheet from the pile of schematics to study it.

“Yes, it’s our house.” You sighed, taking another sip from your drink.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough of that.” Tony reached over the table and gently removed the aluminum can from your fingers. “Why are you looking at blueprints of our house?”

“I wasn’t just looking at them, I made them.” You confessed. “I’m getting ready for Halloween. I want to make sure it’s Spooktacular! I needed to come down to the lab because that’s where you keep the printer that’s big enough for blueprints.”

“You realize that we now live in Victorian Farmhouse, right? The stairs creak and the windows rattle. It’s like living in a haunted house year-round.” He teased.

“I know!” You nodded excitedly. “That’s what gave me so many great ideas! I’m talking fog machines, Rubber bats suspended from the roof of the wrap around porch. We’re going to be the best decorated house in the neighborhood.”

“I’ve never seen you this excited about Halloween.” Tony laughed.

“Well the tower was kind of hard to decorate inside and out. Plus, I know you’re going to invite everyone over for a big Halloween party. It will be our first party in the new house, so I want to make it special.”

“Ok.” Tony downed the remainder of your energy drink and dragged a chair over to the table you were working at. “Where do we start?”

“Oh, you don’t have to…you have a board meeting in the morning.” You told him.

“Sweetheart, this is something you’re excited about and it’s important to you. The quarterly finance meeting neither excites me nor is it as important to me as you are.” He leaned across the table to kiss you. “So, what do you think about setting up a cemetery with real granite gravestones?”

“Oooh yes! Can we build a life-sized coffin to go with it too?” You asked.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark FF #Tony Stark Fan Fic #Tony Stark Fan Fiction #Tony Stark Reader Insert #Tony Stark x Reader #Halloween #Halloween 2020 #OTP Challenge #OTP Challenge 2020 #Spooktacular Halloween #Spooktacular Halloween 2020

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thewritewolf · 4 years

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Clever Like a Fox

Summary: A few years down the line and while the face of the enemy has changed, the ones who fight for what's right haven't. Heroes once thought retired return to the fold, leading to Rena Rouge sharing a patrol with Snake Noir. It might be a quiet night, but Alya always has something to say - in the mask, or out of it.

Hello and welcome to my first of four entries for Adrien AUGreste! This will be the final part of my six-month adventure with daily prompts, starting with Marinette March. I had originally intended to do the full month, but at this point I'm too exhausted to do a long-form fic like that again.

Now, the week's prompt was Snake Noir, and the daily prompts I used were Oblivious, Civilian, and Unify.

@adrienaugust

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Years passed for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Circumstances changed, as they often do - Hawkmoth was gone and another villain emerged from the woodwork to make sure the two of them didn’t get too much of a vacation. Of course, with the fall of Hawkmoth, that opened up opportunities that had been closed for far too long.

When the villain made themselves known a second time, they weren’t just facing Ladybug and Chat Noir. Carapace and Rena Rouge had joined them - this time, on a much more permanent basis. After all, Marinette had argued that the kwami had been locked up for too long. They needed to see the world, be with people, if they were going to be effective.

Which was part of the reason it wasn’t Chat Noir and Rena Rouge on patrol for tonight, but rather Snake Noir and Rena Rouge. Neither was the other’s ideal partner for patrol, but Ladybug could only be in one place at a time and she was busy tonight working on her piece for the summer fashion show, her big debut in the industry.

And Adrien intended to be there… as supportive as a friend could be.

“So… what’s on your mind, big cat?”

Snake Noir looked over at Rena Rouge, her back against a section of wall facing him, laying along the edge of the building that he was dangling his legs over. She was watching him curiously.

“Nothing much, I guess,” he said with a sigh.

The silence stretched on, awkward and uncomfortable. It was at this moment that he realized that of their little group of friends, he spent the least time with Alya. With the two of them, it had always felt more like they were the friends of friends rather than being close themselves.

“Nino been up to anything recently?” He retreated to safe, common ground.

“He’s your best bud as well as my fiance,” Rena said with a raised eyebrow. “Something tells me you’ve got just as good a scoop on him as I do.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Snake Noir picked up a small rock that was on the roof and turned it over in his hands before dropping it into the empty street below.

Another stretch of silence passed between them, ended only when Rena sighed loudly and stood up.

“Okay, big cat, how about you help me out with the Ladyblog?”

“What?” He looked up at her, a confused look on his face. “Do you want to drop your transformation and have me give an interview?”

“No, don’t be crazy,” Rena said, waving with her hand as if she could physically brush away the idea. “It is too late in the day for an interview to not look fake. But!” She grinned and raised a finger. “If the Ladyblogger just so happened to spot two patrolling heroes during her nighttime jog, I’m sure they would love to give their favorite journalist a selfie.”

“Oh would they now?” Snake Noir smirked despite himself. “Sounds awfully generous of them. Especially Rena Rouge since she’d have to be in two places at once.”

Rena Rouge made a disapproving noise. “Poor, poor Chat. Your mind is closed to the possibilities.”

Snake Noir raised an eyebrow at her. “That so?”

“Yes. What you don’t realize is that I don’t need to be in two places at once. I just need to look like I am.” She grinned and pulled out her flute, giving it a twirl.

Snake Noir frowned. “I don’t know… Ladybug doesn’t like us abusing our powers like that.”

“It's not like we have a timer to worry about.” Rena rolled her eyes. “Besides this helps throw people off my scent. Otherwise, having no foxy hero pics taken by me on the blog looks supes suspicious.”

“Hm… alright, I guess,” Snake Noir conceded and stood up. “Where do you want to have this spontaneous photo op take place?”

“That’s the tricky question.” Rena Rouge hummed in thought and tapped at her chin. “Somewhere that looks like I could have been just passing through, with enough light for the photo, and empty enough that there won’t be anyone around to poke holes in my story.”

It would take ten minutes of combing through the city before she found her perfect spot, but Snake Noir didn’t mind. Years of modeling had given him a good eye for ideal photoshoot locations and eventually it was him that found the ideal place for their little deception.

Rena pulled her phone out from one of her suit’s magic pockets and set it up against a wall. The soft notes of her flute hung in the air before feeling almost like they condensed and pulled together until they formed a perfect likeness of her civilian identity. Specifically, an Alya that was all dressed up for a jog. Maybe a little too much, but no doubt she was trying to sell the story as best she could.

The illusionary Ladyblogger went from having a blank expression and standing passively to excitement lighting up her eyes, a wide grin splitting her face. She became slightly crouched as if she was caught in the middle of an excited bouncing in place.

“Okay big cat,” Rena the real said, “put those modeling instincts to good use and give me something that’ll make the Ladyblog sizzle.”

“Sizzle, huh?” Snake Noir let himself smile just enough that he knew the small fangs granted to him by his transformation would peek through. He gave the camera a hungry look, the one that his photographers had been asking for more and more these days.

Once the phone had taken a few pictures, Rena lunged forward and eagerly looked through them. The fake Alya turned to smoke and vanished. Her eyebrows rose high up her forehead.

“Oh wow. That’s gonna get the comments section talking, big cat.” She looked up at him and grinned knowingly. “I’m starting to get why M has been such a big fan of your more recent photoshoots.”

His cheeks turned red. “I’m sure she just appreciates them for the fashion.”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so. Not a whole lot of, ah, fashion on display when it comes to your underwear line though.” Her grin turned downright lecherous. “A lot of something else though.”

Snake Noir made a strangled sort of sound as his mind baked from the heat of his blush. Ladybug had photos of that shoot up in her room?

“Come on,” Rena said with a chuckle. “Let’s get back to patrol.”

A few minutes later and they were up somewhere high again, about as secluded as they were before. Really, at this point, they couldn’t even call them patrols. Even when he was with Ladybug (his heart did a backflip as he remembered her and the recent revelation), patrols tended to be just wandering the city or talking the night away.

“Looks like you need to get your mind off things.” Rena Rouge crossed her arms, a teasing look in her eyes. “At least until you get home.” She rested her chin on he palm and stared down at him.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Snake Noir muttered. A little more loudly, he asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, that brush with the Ladyblogger got me thinking - how would you use your powers in day to day life? Assuming you could manage it discreetly?”

“Uh… hm…” Snake Noir rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about it. Destruction was a bit dangerous to use in his day to day life.

“Let me give you some more examples while you run that through your head.” She held up her hand a raised a finger with each point. “Photo ops, like you saw. Recreating stuff. Enhanced stories and hot gossip. Party favors.”

“Well, I’m not sure how much I could use cataclysm for normal stuff, but I bet I could get a lot of mileage out of Second Chance.”

“Ooo, lots of opportunities there. Although it only goes back, what? Five minutes?”

“Yeah. But! There is plenty of stuff that would be under five minutes that I could use it for. Especially if it is just casual use.”

“Go on,” Rena said as he paused.

“Well… cooking for starters.”

“I thought you said it only lasts five minutes?”

“Which is about how long it takes for me to mess up a given recipe.”

Rena laughed in surprise and shook her head. “You two are a perfect match, I swear.”

He cleared his throat nervously. “A-anyway. I’d also practice jokes - see which ones land, which ones don’t.”

“Make yourself seem funnier than you are, hm?”

“I’m already funny, but there is always room for improvement.”

“Fair enough.” Rena had a thoughtful expression on her face as she tapped her chin. “You know, there is one more thing you could practice now that I’m thinking about it.”

“And what’s that?”

“How exactly you’re going to ask Ladybug out on a date.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Alya Cesaire #Snake Noir #Rena Rouge #ml fanfiction #AdrienAugust #my writing #Clever Like a Fox

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mymoodwriting · 3 years

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Perfect Love

Bang Chan/Jisung, Bang Chan/Felix, Felix/Jisung

Genre: Yandere AU

Warning: Drugs, Nightmares, Anxiety, Collars, Electrocution, Medication

Words: 1.9K

Chapters:

Prompt: When Jisung started dating Chan it was a lot of fun, but that’s all it was and he wanted more. It was a mutual break up, or at least he thought it was. He had no idea what Chan was capable of, that is until he finally went to his house, carried into it actually. A second chance at love is entirely out of his control, and he might not have been the first of Chan’s lovers to be in this position.

When Jisung came to he was sitting at the table. His arms were pinned to his sides with rope, hands tied together and wrapped with tape, legs also tied together, he could barely moved. Felix was sitting across from him, quiet, he wasn’t his usual self, well, not his happy sunshine and rainbows self anyway. His eyes were hazy, clearly not all there, Jisung wondered if that’s how he looked like after some of his treatments.

Chan was cooking, finishing up anyway, and setting the table. Jisung didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t look at the older boy, keeping his head down. This new quiet was unsettling, he felt like the worst was upon him. When the table was set Chan sat next to him, trying to feed him.

“I’m not some pet that needs to be fed.”

“So he speaks.” Chan put down the utensils. “Well then, if you’re hungry, you can eat with your face. Felix needs more of my attention anyway.”

Chan moved over and sat next to Felix, feeding him. The boy smiled and leaned against the older one, but he was still pretty quiet.

“What did you do to him?”

“I saved him, and now I need to look after him after the stunt you pulled.”

“What? Trying to wake him up!”

“You triggered him you idiot.”

“What…”

“It’s gonna take a while to fix him up, but at least I know how to fix you too now.”

“Chan… you need help…”

“Me? I’ve always taken care of myself, I had too, and now I can take care of you two.”

“Not like this… you don’t have to…”

“Eat… if you can.”

Jisung felt the tears sliding down his cheeks, falling onto the table. He heard scratching on the window again and jumped, nearly falling over. He looked around but there was nothing, Chan wasn’t bothered, he hadn’t heard anything. Jisung heard the noise again, frantically looking around for the source. It had to be in his head, it couldn’t be real. He closed his eyes, wishing this nightmare would just end.

He only opened his eyes again when he heard the others move. Chan had picked Felix up and took him upstairs in silence. Jisung stayed put, he thought the other would come back soon, but he didn’t. He was left alone, unable to move. His stomach growled but he refused to eat, there was no way he’d stoop so low. So he was left with nothing but his own imagination, and it was driving him insane.

The scratching on the windows kept happening, each time getting louder. He shut his eyes again, singing a song hoping he could drown out the noise. He stopped when he heard footsteps. When he opened his eyes he realized it was dark out, it was nighttime, the house was quiet. He heard footsteps again, running around upstairs, then suddenly in the living room. It felt like something or someone was in the house.

“Chan!”

He started squirming in his seat, screaming for the older again. He was panicking and he was terrified about what was happening. He screamed again, starting to sob. A hand grabbed his shoulder and he yelled again, nearly falling over but he was caught. He looked around, it was day again and Chan was steadying him.

“Easy, Jisung, I’m here, it’s okay.”

He didn’t understand what just happened, but Chan pulled him close and pet him gently. He couldn’t help but sob into the older boys shirt. His head was spinning and he just wanted it to stop. He didn’t want to say what he was going to say next, but he just needed the peace.

“Chan… I’m sorry… can I please… can you make it stop… please make it stop…”

“Oh baby, I can’t do that right now, I need you to get clean, okay.” Chan kissed his head. “I’ll make your pills tonight.”

“No! No please… I can’t…”

“You’ll be okay, it’s all going to be okay in the end.”

“Chan!”

“Come on, I can’t leave you up here and I need to take care of Felix.”

“What? No… no don’t…”

Chan picked Jisung up and took him down to the basement and sat him down, untying him. When his hands were free Jisung wiped away his tears, trying to pull himself together. The older boy reached over and caressed his cheek before taking the collar off.

“Now I want you-”

Jisung bolted when the collar was off, scrambling up the stairs and bursting out of the basement. He took a second to catch his breath, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed that dark figure that had been haunting him. He screamed and got up only to see that same figure standing in front of the door. He fell back, crawling back, bumping into the older one who had come upstairs.

Chan bent down and hugged the boy. The little one was shaking in his embrace, eyes glued to the door. He couldn’t help but chuckle, wondering what the other was seeing. He had an idea, but he just cuddled Jisung, whispering words of comfort to help soothe him. He heard footsteps coming from upstairs and saw Felix coming down.

“Is Sungie okay?”

“He will be, he’s off his meds right now, you know how bad it can get.”

“When will he be better?”

“Soon, soon, I see you’re better aren’t you?” Felix nodded. “Are you still mad at Sungie for what he did?”

“No… he’s off his meds… can’t be mad for that.”

“You hear that Sungie?” Chan kissed Jisung’s head. “Felix isn’t mad at you anymore, that’s good, I can’t have my two boys fighting.”

Jisung hadn’t been listening, but he was holding on tightly to Chan, scared of what would happen if he let go. The figure didn’t move, and even without eyes, without a face, he knew he was staring at him, burning a hole into his soul.

“Sungie, baby, you need to rest, and not to run off, come on now.”

Chan managed to get the collar back on the other without much issue and got him on his feet. Felix ran down and grabbed Chan’s hand though.

“No, Jisung should stay with us.”

“Lix, I need-”

“Please, I’ll take care of him with you… I know what happens when I don’t take my meds…”

“Alright, but he needs to go to sleep first. Go upstairs and put your headphones on, we’ll be up in a minute okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, now go.”

Felix nodded and headed upstairs. Chan carried Jisung into the living room, sitting him down on the couch. He was clearly in his own head, still shaking. Chan pet his hair, waiting a moment before setting off Jisung’s collar. The boy screamed and curled up on the couch, the screams only stopped when he passed out.

Chan didn’t move for a while, letting the other calm down. He got up and kissed his head then carried him upstairs. Felix moved over to let Jisung lay down, he took off his headphones and lowered the volume on the TV.

“Chan…”

“Hm?”

“What happened to Jisung…”

“Hm… I suppose it’s best for you to know, so you can better help me take care of him. I have his records right here.”

“Records?” Felix had put Jisung’s head in his lap, petting him. “He’s done bad things?”

“No, no, no, bad things happened to him.”

“Oh… did you know? Is that why you brought him here?”

“Honestly, no, I didn’t know what happened, but I had a feeling. Besides, life wasn’t good to him anyway.”

“Life wasn’t good to me either…”

“Don’t think about that baby, you’re okay now.”

Chan and Felix spoke for a while, Felix understanding Jisung a little better, hugging him tight whenever he whimpered. By the time nightfall came Felix asked not to take his medicine, not wanting Jisung to be alone in case he woke up, knowing Chan was gonna be busy that night. Chan was a bit hesitant, never having done so before.

“Lix, you won’t sleep well if you don’t take your medicine.”

“I know there’s a chance… I won’t sleep well… but I can’t leave Jisung alone. It’s just one night Chan, please.”

“Felix-”

“You’re not giving Jisung any meds either.”

“Fine, but I don’t want you asking not to take your meds in the morning.”

“I’ll take it, promise.”

“Okay, try to have a good night sleep, yell if you need me.”

“I will.”

Chan gave them both a kiss before going down to his lab to work. He didn’t like the idea of leaving either for the night without their medicine. He couldn’t give it to Jisung, but Felix, he hoped nothing bad happened. He wasn’t gonna get Jisung’s medicine right on the first try, he knew what he needed but the dosage was probably gonna need to be adjusted.

Since he was already doing that he figured he’d refill Felix’s meds too. He spent the whole night in the lab, thankfully there was no issue from his boys. When he finished he added pills to Felix’s bottle and place another in the medicine cabinet for Jisung. He wouldn’t try anything on Jisung for a few days at least, so tomorrow would be worse than today. At least he could trust Felix would help him out.

♥♥♥♥♥

Felix only woke up once in the night, when Jisung was subconsciously squeezing the life out of him. He squirmed to turn around, gently shaking the other until he opened his eyes. Didn’t help much since Jisung only gripped him tighter.

“Jisung… it’s okay… nothing’s gonna hurt you… breathe…”

The other nodded, slowly loosening his grip. He was taking deep breaths, calming himself down a bit.

“I should go get Chan.”

“No… no don’t go… just stay…”

“But-”

“Please… if… if you really wanna go get him… then we go together…”

Felix thought for a moment, seeing how shaky Jisung was and just laid back down. It wasn’t a good idea for either of them to be walking around the house at night. He took Jisung’s hand, soothing the other so he could go back to sleep staying awake until he was sure the other was back in dreamland.

♥♥♥♥♥

Chan woke Felix up in the morning, asking him to go down and set the table. He knew they both needed his attention so he planned for a simple breakfast. As Felix ran downstairs Chan told him to take his medicine as well, saying he’d be busy with Jisung for a while. Felix knew where his pills were, the bottle in the medicine cabinet with an ‘F’ on the top. He noticed a new bottle in their too, a ‘J’ on it.

When he grabbed his bottle he noticed it had been refilled. His eyes lingered on Jisung’s for a while, knowing the boy wouldn’t be taking any medication for a while. He grabbed a pill, rolling it around in his hand. He promised Chan he would take it, but he was having other ideas. He knew the older one kept count of his pills so he never over did it or forgot.

Felix dumped the pill in his hand into the sink and then turned the faucet on to get rid of it, putting the bottle back just as Chan came down with the other. He smiled at him, grabbing the plates and setting the table as he was asked. It was probably a bad idea not to take his meds, he figured he could handle it, and that Chan wouldn’t noticed. Jisung didn’t seem so bad and he gave the boy a smile, knowing the next few days were gonna suck.

#stray kids #bang chan #han #felix #christopher bang #han jisung #lee felix #skz #skz au #stray kids au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Thursday, January 28, 2021

Republicans Rally Against Impeachment Trial, Signaling Likely Acquittal for Trump (NYT) Senate Republicans rallied on Tuesday against trying former President Donald J. Trump for “incitement of insurrection” at the Capitol, with only five members of his party joining Democrats in a vote to go forward with his impeachment trial. By a vote of 55-to-45, the Senate narrowly killed a Republican effort to dismiss the proceeding as unconstitutional because Mr. Trump is no longer in office. “I think it’s pretty obvious from the vote today that it is extraordinarily unlikely that the president will be convicted,” said Senator Susan Collins of Maine, one of the five Republicans who voted to proceed to trial. “Just do the math.” It would take two-thirds of senators—67 votes—to attain a conviction, meaning 17 Republicans would have to cross party lines to side with Democrats in finding Mr. Trump guilty. If they did, an additional vote to disqualify him from ever holding office again would take a simple majority.

Foot of snow blankets parts of Midwest, disrupts travel (AP) A major winter storm dumped more than a foot of snow on parts of the middle of the country while another system blanketed areas of the Southwest, disrupting travel for a second consecutive day Tuesday and shuttering many schools. Several coronavirus testing sites closed Monday and Tuesday in Nebraska and Iowa, as both states saw 12 to 15 inches (30.5 to 38.1 centimeters) of snow in places. At least 4 inches (10 centimeters) of snow was expected through Tuesday across most of an area stretching from central Kansas northeast to Chicago and southern Michigan. National Weather Service meteorologist Taylor Nicolaisen, who is based near Omaha, said up to 15 inches (38 centimeters) was reported in spots between York, Nebraska, and Des Moines, Iowa. He said it’s uncommon for the region to get more than a foot of snow from a single storm, and it has been decades since some cities saw this much.

As variants spread, countries pursue new round of travel restrictions (Washington Post) Governments around the world—including those of the United States, Britain and New Zealand—are moving to impose stricter travel limitations in a bid to slow the spread of new coronavirus variants that experts warn are more contagious. President Biden confirmed Monday that he would extend a ban on travelers from Brazil, the United Kingdom, Ireland and 26 other European countries. Visitors from South Africa will be banned from entering the United States starting Saturday. New Zealand, which has been lauded for its handling of the pandemic, may keep its borders closed to visitors for “much of this year,” Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern said. The new U.S. restrictions come as several countries reconsider eased travel polices amid worry over virus variants that can make people sicker, spread faster and, in some cases, compromise the effectiveness of vaccines.

Biden and Putin Agree to Extend Nuclear Treaty (NYT) President Biden and President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia avoided a renewed arms race on Tuesday when they formally agreed to extend the last remaining nuclear arms treaty between their countries. But White House officials said Mr. Biden also confronted the Kremlin leader over the poisoning of an opposition activist and a hacking of government and private computer networks in the United States. It was the first call between the leaders of the world’s two largest nuclear powers since Mr. Biden’s inauguration. But it was being watched as much for its tone as its substance: Mr. Biden vowed during the transition to make Russia “pay a price” for the hacking, and his administration, in its opening hours, demanded the release of Aleksei A. Navalny, whose arrest on Jan. 17 prompted protests last weekend across Russia that resulted in more than 3,000 arrests. The call was, in essence, the opening act of what promises to be a deeply adversarial relationship between the two leaders, and most likely the sharpest turn in American foreign policy since President Donald J. Trump left office one week ago.

‘Lying is a thing presidents do’ (The Media Today/CJR) Adam Serwer, of The Atlantic, reminds journalists and the public that “Biden will lie to you,” because lying is a thing presidents do. “The press and the public should resist the temptation to assume that the Biden administration will always be on the level, or that its dishonesties can be forgiven because Biden’s predecessor wielded falsehood with such abandon,” Serwer writes. “Already, Biden has sought to mislead the public by setting expectations for vaccinations that experts have said are too modest—which will allow the president to declare his approach a great success if the goal is exceeded.”

Calm returns to Dutch cities after riots, with police out in force (Reuters) With shops boarded up and riot police out in force, it was relatively calm in Dutch cities on Tuesday night after three days of violence during which nearly 500 people were detained. In several cities, including the capital Amsterdam, some businesses closed early and emergency ordinances were in place to give law enforcement greater powers to respond to the rioting, which was prompted by a nighttime curfew to curb the spread of the coronavirus. The Netherlands’ first curfew since World War Two was imposed on Saturday despite weeks of falling infections, after the National Institute for Health (RIVM) said a faster-spreading variant first found in England was causing a third of cases. A hospital in Rotterdam had warned visitors of patients to stay away, after rioters tried to attack hospitals in various cities. In Amsterdam on Monday, groups of youths threw fireworks, broke store windows and attacked a police truck, but were broken up by a massive police presence.

The World Is Dependent on Taiwan for Semiconductors (Bloomberg) As China pushes the world to avoid official dealings with Taiwan, leaders across the globe are realizing just how dependent they’ve become on the island democracy. Taiwan, which China regards as a province, is being courted for its capacity to make leading-edge computer chips. That’s mostly down to Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co., the world’s largest foundry and go-to producer of chips for Apple Inc. smartphones, artificial intelligence and high-performance computing. Taiwan’s role in the world economy largely existed below the radar, until it came to recent prominence as the auto industry suffered shortfalls in chips used for everything from parking sensors to reducing emissions. TSMC’s chip-making skills have handed Taiwan political and economic leverage in a world where technology is being enlisted in the great power rivalry between the U.S. and China—a standoff unlikely to ease under the administration of Joe Biden. Taiwan’s grip on the semiconductor business—despite being under constant threat of invasion by Beijing—also represents a choke point in the global supply chain that’s giving new urgency to plans from Tokyo to Washington and Beijing to increase self-reliance.

Indonesian volcano unleashes river of lava in new eruption (AP) Indonesia’s most active volcano erupted Wednesday with a river of lava and searing gas clouds flowing 1,600 meters (5,250 feet) down its slopes. It was Mount Merapi’s biggest lava flow since authorities raised its danger level in November, said Hanik Humaida, the head of Yogyakarta’s Volcanology and Geological Hazard Mitigation Center. After morning rain, ashfall turned into muck in several villages, where the sound of eruption could be heard 30 kilometers (18 away). Police and rescue services told miners to cease work along rivers but no one was evacuated. The 2,968-meter (9,737-foot) volcano is on the densely populated island of Java and near the ancient city of Yogyakarta. It is the most active of dozens of Indonesian volcanoes and has repeatedly erupted with lava and gas clouds recently.

Amid crisis, Hezbollah ‘bank’ a lifeline for some Lebanese (AP) When Lebanon’s financial meltdown began in late 2019, Hassan Shoumar was locked out of his dollar savings like everyone else in the country as banks clamped down with capital controls. But the young engineer had an alternative. He could still pull out the dollars in his account at the al-Qard al-Hasan Association, the financial arm of the militant Hezbollah group. Stepping in where the state and financial institutions have failed, Hezbollah is providing a vital lifeline for some Lebanese. In the country’s wrecked economy, everyone is desperate for hard currency and liquidity as the local currency plummets in value. At commercial banks, depositors stand in line for hours and fight with managers in vain to access their dollar savings. Most banks have stopped giving loans. But at Hezbollah’s al-Qard al-Hasan people can take out small, interest-free loans in dollars, enabling them to pay school fees, get married, buy a used car or open a small business. They can also open saving accounts there. With poverty rising across Lebanon, Hezbollah provides its community with low-cost schools and hospitals and distributes heating fuel to the poor. Hezbollah continues to pay its fighters and employees in its institutions in U.S. dollars, while everyone else gets their salaries in Lebanese pounds, which lost about 80% of their value in the crisis.

Missiles over Saudi Arabia (Times of London) Iran-backed militias in Iraq are feared to have opened a new front against Saudi Arabia, after a second suspected drone attack in less than four days over the capital Riyadh. A double blast was heard above the city on Tuesday morning. Witnesses said there appeared to have been some kind of missile interception. A similar incident on Saturday was initially blamed on the Houthis, the Iran-backed rebel group fighting the Saudi-backed recognized government in Yemen to the south. However, the Houthis denied it, although they have claimed numerous previous attacks on Saudi cities during the six-year war. Instead, a new militia based in Iraq issued a statement of responsibility. The Alwiya al-Waad al-Haq, or Brigades of the Righteous Promise, said the attack had been “launched solely by Iraqi hands”. An online news channel close to Iran-backed groups in Iraq said the attacks were intended to make Saudi Arabia the “playground of missiles and drones” and that it would become a target of the “resistance” from both north and south.

France says it bombed an ‘armed terrorist group.’ Witnesses say it was a wedding. (Washington Post) The men gathered for a wedding, they said — one more somber than those of the past. Strict rules have warped life in their central Mali village since the extremists invaded: no music or dancing. No mingling with women. Smoke a cigarette and get beaten. Parties, even conservative ones, invite punishment, so they wanted to celebrate quickly in a remote field, according to two guests. Grilled mutton and beef were about to be served when bombs fell from the sky. “We heard what sounded like a plane and then a loud noise,” said one guest, a 46-year-old teacher. “Suddenly there were wounded people everywhere. Body parts everywhere. What happened on the afternoon of Jan. 3 is hotly disputed. The French military took responsibility for an airstrike near Bounti in the Mopti region, saying in a Jan. 7 statement that a pair of Mirage 2000 fighter jets had dropped three explosives on “a gathering of armed terrorist group members” in an area known to be rife with them. The French armed forces said the airstrike killed about 30 men — all militants. But villagers say there was a tragic misunderstanding: Only men were in the field because extremists had banned socializing with women. Guests provided testimony that aligns with reports from Human Rights Watch and a Malian group that conducted an investigation into the airstrike. Those probes concluded that 19 civilian men — some in their late 60s and 70s — died in the blasts.

Ugandan election aftermath (Foreign Policy) Opposition leader Bobi Wine accused President Yoweri Museveni of using the military and the police “to oppress his opponents and to suppress our rights” after he was freed from 11 days of house arrest following disputed elections on Jan. 14. Museveni was declared to have won Uganda’s presidential election earlier this month, winning roughly 59 percent in an election judged by the United States as fundamentally flawed. Wine’s campaign team will decide whether to contest the results of the presidential election and have until a deadline of Feb. 2 to do so.

Pew: How COVID-19 Changed Faith (CT) “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” James, the brother of Jesus, didn’t have a global pandemic in mind when he wrote these words in the opening chapter of his biblical epistle to “the 12 tribes scattered among the nations.” But as the coronavirus closed churches worldwide, a global survey of more than 14,000 people has found that few lost faith while many of the most faithful gained. Today, the Pew Research Center released a study on how COVID-19 affected levels of faith this past summer in 14 countries with advanced economies: Australia, Belgium, Canada, Denmark, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the Netherlands, Spain, South Korea, Sweden, the United Kingdom, and the United States. “In 11 of 14 countries surveyed, the share who say their religious faith has strengthened is higher than the share who say it has weakened,” noted Pew researchers. Overall, a median of 4 out of 5 of each country’s citizens said their faith was more or less unchanged. Leading the pack in strengthened faith: the United States. Americans were three times more likely to report their religious faith had become stronger due to the pandemic: 28 percent, vs. a global median of 10 percent. Next came Spaniards (16%) and Italians (15%), whose nations were two of the worst hit during the coronavirus’s deadly outbreak in the spring.

#headlines #news

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theoverdressedbrunette · 4 years

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Heartburn at Night - Do You Suffer From Nighttime Heartburn?

Most individuals have encountered heartburn eventually in their lives. It is suitably named as that is the way it is, a consuming in the heart territory. That consuming that appears now and again to be continually there, from the base of your throat down to your stomach. You can get help with over the counter items for a brief timeframe, there are a considerable lot of these items available, so sufferers attempt until they get one that suits them. Nighttime heartburn has caused numerous a restless night and attempting to rest in awkward positions, just to get some help.

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Our ways of life can add to our heartburn, stress, kinds of foods like prepared and hot, an expansion in heftiness and diabetes could be contributing elements also. Regardless of where or how you get heartburn most sufferers will encounter nighttime heartburn.

There is a little valve, constrained by a little muscle, arranged where the highest point of the stomach paves the way to the throat. In certain individuals, this little muscle debilitates and causes the valve to remain open after food goes through, it should close at that point yet the quality has reduced so the open valve permits the acid from the stomach to get away. The main it can go is up and as acid consumes, this is the reason you get the consuming sensation right to your throat and in many cases further. This is an agonizing and awkward inclination.

One of the primary reasons nighttime heartburn is even more an issue is the way that the body is in an inclined position, so the acid has a simple way to travel and cause the discomfort. Numerous nighttime heartburn sufferers will have their bed raised at the head end or lay down with additional cushions so they are not lying so level. This can help.

What Doesn't Help Nighttime Heartburn.

Indulging at supper is an awful activity, on the off chance that you are a sufferer of heartburn at night. Eating zesty foods, wine, whatever you realize will trigger the heartburn for you, you ought to keep away from. More modest dinners at night and not hitting the sack before you have given your supper time to settle, will help. Assuming there is any chance of this happening, eat more modest dinners all the more regularly. Rather than the standard three suppers in a day, to begin with attempt, four and afterward five and the ideal is six. You will even now be having a similar measure of food, so you won't go hungry. You will request that your body cycle the more modest measures of food, not a major sum each time.

With the acid going here and there your throat, this can prompt different issues, for example, ulcers, which in themselves, is another issue through and through that you don't need. You need your nighttime heartburn looked at and treated.

Treatment Plans

On the off chance that you are an individual who has this condition constantly, at that point you should look for medical counsel. Your primary care physician can mastermind tests for you to decide the issue and there are medical procedure strategies that can help. Nowadays it is principally done by the keyhole strategy medical procedure so is non-meddlesome.

In the event that you just suffer nighttime heartburn, at that point there are some great medications available. In the event that what you can buy over the counter isn't working for you, at that point go see your primary care physician and he can endorse a medication that is more grounded and may turn out better for you. on the off chance that the primary endorsed medication doesn't function too for you, at that point return and let your PCP know and he can either change the portion to attempt another medication. In the event that you attempt the home grown cures and they work for you, at that point great, do what works for you all things considered, it is your nighttime heartburn.

On the off chance that heartburn is with you constantly, not simply nighttime heartburn, at that point you unquestionably should look for help from your medical professional. Change of diet, changed dinner estimates, regardless of the amount you love a food or refreshment, on the off chance that you are getting nighttime heartburn subsequent to participating in it, at that point wean yourself off it, your throat will much obliged. Partake in some activity program, one that won't exasperate your condition, something like yoga or water vigorous exercise, not a great deal of stress on the body yet practicing the muscles all around.

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mystery-deer · 4 years

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Nuclear (b99 kevin/holt)

The phone call from Debbie came deep into the afternoon. It was a dismal day and rained for the better portion of it, the kind of rain that didn’t dissipate only waxed and waned.

“I’m pregnant Raymond!” She exclaimed happily. He could hear her pacing around her house, picking things up and putting them down again like she always did when talking on the phone. He remembered she almost choked him with the cord doing that. “My senses are so strong I threw up because I saw someone ELSE eating relish on a hotdog!” She continued.

Raymond shuddered. RELISH on a hotdog? It was one of the only preferences they had in common. He could recall (though he didn’t at that moment) a great many family barbeques and picnics where they’d be offered the accursed condiment and both pulled faces their mother chastised them for. “Is senses heightening a part of pregnancy?”

“Hell yeah it is!” She declared.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded, sure she must be an expert in the matter. “Well, I’m very happy for you. Please keep me updated.”

As he hung up he heard the door open and his fiancee step in. The moment they'd gotten the house it was decided that they were fiancees. “There’s no legal way to prevent us from being engaged to be married.” Kevin had stated simply, ever the romantic.

“Who was that?” He asked, shrugging off his soaked coat and slipping his shoes off at the door. He looked like a drowned rat when he was wet, his thin hair sticking to his paler-than-average forehead. He would often bemoan how 'perfect' Raymond could look even after being in the rain or having just taken a shower.

Raymond smiled, feeling fond of him. As an afterthought he said, “My sister, she’s pregnant.”

How wonderful!” Kevin said, voice lilting slightly. Raymond honestly couldn’t understand why people said it was monotonous. It had so many soft depths to it, the slight upturn when he was especially pleased by a piece of news never failed to warm his heart.

“Every pregnancy is not good news.” He said suddenly, surprised as he had not planned to say it. “People often default to saying that but there are plenty of instances in which a pregnancy is cause for alarm and panic.”

Kevin nodded and shook out his umbrella. “I see. Good news for her and not for you?” He asked, hitting the nail on the head.

Raymond looked at the nail and did not recognize it as his own. “I’m not- I am perfectly...fine. With the information.” Kevin silently communicated his doubt at this, setting his umbrella out to dry. “It’s not that I’m upset, I just feel...odd.”

Kevin kissed his fiancee’s temple and placed an extremely cold and wet hand on the back of his neck, making him jump. “Please feel free to collect your thoughts while I make us tea, it’s pouring and I know you neglected to take your umbrella.”

“The weatherman did not indicate it would rain.” Raymond protested. He had had to throw his entire outfit in the dryer and change into pajamas despite it not being nighttime. He deserved it, it was his day off.

“I told you it would.”

“You are not the weatherman. Speaking of which, the deli counter clerk referred to me as ‘the rain man’ today when I went in.”

“Which one, Rodrigo?” Kevin asked. He did not like Rodrigo the deli counter clerk. Rodrigo had once, when Kevin ordered a sausage, winked at him and chuckled a notably slurred "right on man!”

“Yes.” Raymond had had no such interactions with Rodrigo.

“I see.”

“It’s a movie.” Raymond clarified for him, thinking that the source of Kevin’s frustration. “I believe the main character has the same name as me.”

“I’m aware.” Kevin remarked, opening the cabinets and taking out their favorite mugs. He was certain Raymond would deny having a favorite mug in front of company but Kevin had noted that he would only use other mugs if that particular one was not available. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, a bluish gray. “Oh, I got your text and I bought more honey.”

“Bought more what?” “More-” Kevin turned to see his fiancee raising an eyebrow slyly and smiled, that was his Raymond. Always playing jokes on him.

“Very funny.” He said, meaning it. Raymond smiled as well and went to retrieve the bear-shaped bottle along with several other items he had realized he’d forgotten after coming home from his errands. And he certainly had no intention of going back out in that veritable storm, he had on his pajamas for chrissake.

“I don’t understand why you buy this brand and not the honey with the normal container.” He said, putting the bear down on the counter as Kevin filled the kettle.

“It’s cute.” He replied. “If you think it’s cute why would you purchase it? You’re meant to drain the honey from it. It is morbid and the same reason why I am against latte art.” “I know your stance on latte art intimately.”

(Flashback: The two of them in a Parisian inspired cafe of Kevin’s choosing, both of them in suits, Raymond’s sleeves rolled up because of the rant he’s worked himself into though he’s not yelling. It's a private quasi argument between the two of them. Kevin is drinking from his cup and Raymond's lays untouched on the table.

“I’m just saying it’s fiendish! It’s undrinkable!” “Because of Mr.Cuddlesworth?” “Don’t give it a name for chrissake!” “He’s delicious Raymond try him.” “You’re a monster.”

Flashback ends.)

“I still can’t believe you drank him.” “You’re adorable.” _______________

They had tea a few minutes later, sitting in their living room and watching the fire. Kevin had prepared it and Raymond had remarked that it made the home feel rustic.

“Rustic?” Kevin asked in disbelief, smiling for a moment. “City boy.” “You’re a city boy too now.” He pointed out. Kevin stood and clapped his hands off. “I’ll carry the scars of suburbia in my heart always.”

They sat in silence for the time it took to finish their drinks and they savored the time spent together more than the taste of honey.

“Kevin, do you want children?”

Kevin turned to look at his fiancee, startled by the question. He was staring down into his mug at the leaves left over. “Children?” He asked. “As in having children of our own?”

“Yes.” Raymond said, narrowing his eyes slightly to express his extreme confusion. “Was I unclear?”

Kevin turned to look at the fire and then up at the art hanging above it that was evocative of a starry sky. They'd bought it to christen the house and he remembered the moment vividly. “We can’t have children Raymond.” He paused. “I know some couples adopt - but not AS a couple and even then It’s difficult to adopt as a single parent.”

“I do not have any particular want to have a child.” Raymond admitted. For a brief moment he pictured his mother- looking stoic but clutching her purse so tightly her knuckles paled as the doctor spoke to her in a low consoling tone. “I am far too focused on my job and have never had a want to raise one.”

He pictured Kevin in the hospital when he got shot a few years back. Kevin waiting, hands in his lap, looking stoic except for how they shook there. He told him later that he’d asked at the front desk if Raymond Holt had been admitted and the receptionist peered up at him through horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you family?” She asked.

“I’m-” He’d paused. Thinking of the man he’d seen sitting in a chair near the entrance with a bulls hat and an American flag t-shirt. Hearing a woman by the coffee vending machine talking loudly on her phone, phrases like ‘alternative lifestyle’ and ‘not around my children.’ buzzing in his ears. The room seemed spring-loaded with violence.

“-No. We’re very close friends." He hesitated, voice cracking softly. "We’ve known each other since childhood just...please let me know if there’s any news.” He said and the woman nodded sympathetically because he looked like a wreck. He looked brokenhearted.

Raymond had woken up in his hospital bed alone. Had had to buzz the nurse in four times before she finally got around to fetching him. She kept "forgetting."

He pictured a funeral with not only Kevin but a smaller them- though they couldn’t procreate his imagination supplied a child which was composed of their halves. A mixed boy, brown skin and red hair, crying for his father.

A black boy, brown skin and black hair, holding his baby sister in his arms. Their mother bent at an odd angle, body shaking. It was sunny the day of the funeral and he remembered feeling wrong about it. Debbie couldn’t even talk then - could only babble and repeat if prompted.

Kevin looked relieved. “I must confess I also don’t have any particular want of children.” He said. “They’re fascinating and can be quite adorable but I do not have it in me to raise one.” They were both people who worked long nights. Kevin imagined taking a child to work, leaving them at the daycare (a child could not be trusted to stay quiet in class, even one that was theirs). He would either worry ceaselessly about them or they would grow distant because of the time apart.

He pictured his father- the back of him. He was sitting at his desk at home shifting through medical journals and loose papers. “He’s not to be disturbed.” Said his mother, ushering him away. “Come now.”

He pictured himself, sitting in the study, surrounded by books and grading papers. Saw himself not even noticing his son- an adopted boy who miraculously looked like them, perhaps not in his physical features but in the way he walked and talked and looked at things - lingering at the half open door.

“Come now.” Raymond would say gently, leading him away by the hand. “You will see him when he’s finished.”

“I was thinking of Debbie.” Raymond admitted, though Kevin had already guessed this was the source of their conversation. “I remember when she used to be so...small. It surprised me that she could be pregnant. That she is at the age where being pregnant is a natural thing.”

He remembered her as a child. Both of them in their father’s study. He sat in the middle of the room and watched her run around spinning all of the globes and listing fake facts about wherever they landed. The joy on her face made him want to cry and he hoped she would happy forever. Dust flew around them. He was sure that as she grew she would dim into normalcy but she only grew brighter and brighter.

He remembered her bringing home her future husband, a teacher at that time. He remembered how she shone that day and when she asked "Isn't he just the cutest?" He'd responded "Yes, he has eyelashes." He went into their father's study that day to escape the noise and spun one of the globes lazily with his finger.

“If I were heterosexual would I be married by now? Would I have children?” Raymond and a faceless woman were sitting in the same house - same fire in front of them. A smaller version of him and Debbie were running the background. A child who looked like Kevin sat with his back to them, singing. He felt a weighted sadness settle on him for a moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that you are missing out on some wonderful part of life because you’re with me.” He finished, setting his mug down. The sound transported him back to a night years and years ago. Raymond and Kevin on one end of a dining table and Kevin’s parents on the other. Classical music seeped in through the corners of the memory.

“You’ve done this.” Kevin's father growled, one eye blue with oncoming cataracts. Raymond remembered feeling sorry for him- he was a surgeon after all. “You’ve done this to our son.” And he felt like he’d murdered someone.

("Do not stand at my grave and weep." Kevin's voice read that night, raw with rage and sorrow. "I am not there, I do not sleep.")

He’d told this to Debbie on the phone and she’d succinctly said. “Fuck that old bastard! But I bet you WISH you were good enough to turn a man gay.” And just like that he was innocent again.

“Raymond I don’t feel that I’m sacrificing anything by being with you.” Kevin said. “Even if I was with a woman - and somehow enjoying it - I don’t believe I would want children. I’m perfectly happy with spoiling various nieces and nephews as they pop up.”

They both pictured themselves, older and grayer, in the middle of an intimate but large family. The image was comforting and felt right. They were complete with just the two of them, they didn't need or want anything other than to spend the rest of their lives together.

Raymond smiled, content with this answer and feeling very much the same. He relaxed against his fiancee and hummed in thought.

“What do you think she’ll name the baby?” “Perhaps Dan?” “Yes.” Raymond said, apparently enjoying the thought. “Perhaps.” "Maybe we should get a dog." Kevin suggested and smiled slightly at his fiancee's dismissive snort. "Heaven forbid."

#kevin cozner/raymond holt #b99 fanfic #my writing #fanfic #uhhh so I have a lot of feelings #and I am NOT afraid to use a shitload of imagery to express them #b99

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its-captain-sir · 5 years

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Meggo’s Fic Masterlist!

I figured it was time to put one of these together so, ta da! Here it is: my fic masterlist! Not all fics are available on all three platforms I use (sorry! I'm just really unorganized), but I'll work on getting my shit together soon and making sure all my fics are transferred over. XD

Anyways, my fics can be found here, on FF.net, or on AO3. If you don't see it link for one of those, then it's not there!

(all the ones that can be found on tumblr will be linked directly to the title)

LIST OF FICS

• Jaig Eye Jedi (FF.net/AO3)

(Multi-chapter fic, in progress, 4 chapters, highly AU)

CT-7567 is not an ordinary clone, turns out he has a thing called "the Force." Only one things to do with a clone who has the powers of a Jedi: train him.

• The Top Bunk (FF.net/AO3)

(One-shot, 1,646 words, lots of sad feels)

It's been four days since the mission at Lola Sayu and Fives has not been the same since they left. Now he has to deal with a new person assigned to the now empty bunk of his friend.

• Last in a Long Line of Soldiers (FF.net/AO3)

(One-shot, 1,517 words, some more sad feels)

Kix is found by pirates 50 years in the future, where his brothers are long dead, and he might soon be dead too. At least his mind decided to take pity on him and conjure up some hallucinations of his brothers... or are they?...

• A Record of Memories (FF.net/AO3)

(One-shot, 2,869 words, written through snapshots)

Leia is purchasing supplies for the Rebellion when she stumbles upon an old comm. One that just happened to belong to a certain clone named Fives.

• "Snip"pets of Celebration (AO3)

(One-shot, 2,072 words, very fluffy)

With everything going on, Ahsoka never realized she forgot about her birthday. The others, however, most certainly didn't.

• Domino's Day Off (AO3)

(One-shot, 2,518 words, giveaway fic)

It's Domino Squad's last day of leave on Coruscant, and they intend to make the most of it. Coruscant won't know what hit it!

• Brothers Reunited (AO3)

(One-shot, 1,876 words, giveaway fic)

Echo saved Fives in the warehouse on Coruscant and now they're on the run. He'll do anything to keep his brother safe.

• My Arch Nemesis (FF.net/AO3)

(One-shot, 1,865 words, 100% a crack fic)

Obi-wan Kenobi has made a lot of enemies over the years, but which one holds the title of his arch nemesis? His enemies would sure like to know!

• Padmé's Day Off

(One-shot, 515 words, prompt list fic, fluff)

Padmé's relaxing in her apartment when her friend, Anakin, shows up. And he's definitely hiding something.

• A Jedi, a Droid, and a Set of Twins- What Could Go Wrong?

(One-shot, 2,128 words, prompt list fic, more fluff)

It's Anakin and Padmé's date night and Obi-wan has volunteered to watch the twins. Really, what could go wrong?

• Big Surprise (AO3)

(One-shot, 3,246 words, fluffy and angsty, part of my domestic AU)

The kids show up at Jango's unannounced one day. After getting them settled in, he has a sinking suspicion that things might soon be changing for their family.

• Summer Celebration (AO3)

(One-shot, 2,755 words, lots of typical sibling interaction, part of my domestic AU)

It's the 4th of July, which also happens to be Rex and Cody's birthday, and both are being celebrated with the ENTIRE Fett family. Let the fun times begin!

• Goodbye to Yesterday (AO3)

(One-shot, 1,056 words, giveaway fic)

Maul meets a man after being left on Coruscant by his master. He’s different, but... Maul thinks he likes him.

• The Voices in My Head (AO3)

(One-shot, 1,444 words, giveaway fic)

CC-2224 serves the Empire to the best of his ability. Cody remembers a time when he served with someone else.

• General Problems (AO3)

(One-shot, 2,283 words, giveaway fic)

Obi-wan Kenobi is not the... best patient in the world. But he might just have more problems than he’s been letting on.

• I'll Be There For You (AO3)

(One-shot, 538 words, part of my domestic au)

Cody's locked himself in their room after a bad breakup. Rex doesn't know how to help, but he's definitely going to try.

• I’ve Got You, Brother (AO3)

(One-shot, 1,024 words, giveaway fic)

Umbara was... a mess, to say the least. Nighttime in the 501st barracks aren’t a particularly fun time for anyone after that, but they do what they can to help each other through it.

• Getting Your Jedi Master To Relax 101 (AO3)

(One-shot, 945 words, giveaway fic)

Obi-wan actually has a day off. Anakin and Ahsoka want to make sure he’s not being an idiot about it and enjoys himself for once.

• A Perfect Snow Day is Hot Chocolate and a Heart-to-heart (AO3)

(One-shot, 1510 words, a little hurt/comfort, part of my domestic au)

Fives decides to make a little trip to Rex's apartment. Without a coat. While it's snowing. Rex is Not impressed, and also a little concerned about his brother's reason for coming.

• Hair Trouble (AO3)

(One-shot, 1170 words, some hurt/comfort, gift fic)

"Tup storms into the 'fresher area, purposely ignoring the shouts of the person behind him. He doesn't want to talk to Dogma. Not now. Not after this morning."

• Snow Much Fun (AO3)

(One-shot, 706 words, not quite crack but still kinda close, gift fic)

Domino squad is back at it again with their shenanigans, Rex is Very Tired, and honestly? Cody's not surprised by any of it.

• The Idiot Plot (AO3)

(One-shot, 731 words, chat fic, gift fic)

The command squad is Very Good at coming up with stupid plans. Maybe not as good at actually executing them....

• five times Fox got thrown out a window and the one time he did it himself (AO3)

(one-shot, 774 words, definitely crack, gift fic)

The title says it all. Fox gets thrown out a window more often than you'd think.

• Next To Me (AO3)

(one-shot, 596 words, giveaway fic)

Lazy mornings are rare during the war, but every once in while, Cody and his general manage to sneak one in. And Cody isn’t letting anyone or anything ruin this time they have alone. (That means you, Skywalker.)

• Have I Mentioned I Love You?

(one-shot, 1,159 words, OC content)

Splat and Dav have been together for a while now, and things have been going great. Still, Splat has some doubts about how far this new relationship of theirs can actually go...

Another thing I want to mention is some of my tags. Any of the fics listed above can be found under the tag #my writing, as well as a few other rambles I’ve written. The #messing with vader au holds a lot of stuff like that. The other two prominent tags are #jaig eye jedi and #domestic au, where you can find extra content for both of those respectively.

I'll update this as more fics are posted! :)

#meggo's fic masterlist #my writing #jaig eye jedi #domestic au #messing with vader au

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perryavenue · 5 years

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Elementary, My Dear Anderson; Complete!

Chapter Thirteen Also on AO3

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve

Note: This fic is complete! I hope you've had as much fun reading it as I've had writing it. Thank you for coming along for the ride on this Klaine/Sherlock Holmes mash-up! Huge thanks to @flowerfan2, my beta, my dear friend, and the one who happily pushed me into resurrecting this two year old idea from the ashes. And thank you to @slayediest @klaineadvent and @todaydreambelieversfic for keeping the candle lit for us.

Day 24: Santa

“Blaine? Blaine, honey, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

Blaine felt like he was swimming up from deep water. Everything seemed really heavy and slow. He tried opening his eyes but the light was too bright and it hurt. His head ached, he was nauseous, and the left side of his body was sore. What had happened to him? He would be panicking, except that was Kurt’s voice next to him, and Kurt holding his hand tightly. He tried squeezing back, but he seemed to have lost most of his strength. A lighter press would have to do.

He smelled Kurt’s cologne, and then felt his lips on his cheek. Maybe he should try opening his eyes again.

There was his husband, his face bent down close to his, with red-rimmed eyes and a very scared expression on his face. That was a look that never failed to gut Blaine. All he wanted to do was make it go away.

“Hey,” Blaine said softly. “What happened?”

Kurt swallowed and gripped Blaine’s hand more tightly. Blaine tried to lift his other arm to pull Kurt to him, which was when he realized it was tethered to an IV. That frightened him.

“Kurt! Am I okay?”

Someone else came into view, a woman wearing a white medical coat.

“Hi, Blaine. I’m Dr. Abutra. I’m a neurologist, and you’re at Lima Memorial Hospital. You’re going to be fine. Nothing’s broken. You hurt your head, and we’re treating you for a mild concussion. You also have bruising along your left arm and ribs. Do you remember what happened to you?”

Blaine’s thoughts seemed all jumbled. He had memories of Kurt as Sherlock Holmes and him as Dr. Watson (why was he Dr. Watson? Kurt had been in that play, not him!), and somehow, most of the people they knew in Lima had been involved, too.

Blaine closed his eyes again. “I’m trying to remember but everything seems all mixed up. I think it’s making me feel worse. Ugh, my head hurts, and my stomach...”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Abutra said soothingly. “That’s a normal response to a concussion. No more questions for a while, then. Try not to think too hard about anything right now. Do you meditate?”

Blaine started to nod but doing that hurt, too. “Yes.”

Dr. Abutra looked pleased. “Good. Concentrate for now on emptying your mind and breathing slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth.” Blaine immediately began to do just that, and found it helped.

Kurt still looked worried. “Can I stay with him?”

Dr. Abutra nodded. “Of course. But it is starting to get late. We’re going to keep him overnight for observation. Right now, the best thing for him is rest. So you should decide if you want to go home at some point, and come back in the morning, or stay here. Blaine, I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Once they were alone, Blaine pressed Kurt’s hand again. “My eyes are closed because the light hurts, but I’m awake. You can talk to me.”

Kurt leaned down to kiss Blaine again, and he could feel the wetness from Kurt’s tears.

“Please don’t cry. You heard what the doctor said. I’m going to be fine.”

Kurt wiped his eyes with a tissue. “You have no idea how scared we were. They couldn’t tell us if you were badly hurt or not until maybe a half hour ago, when all the test and scan results came back.”

Blaine shifted slightly on the mattress to get more comfortable. “How long have I been like this?”

“Maybe four hours? I don’t think you’ve been unconscious the whole time though. The doctors and nurses said you were mumbling a lot. They actually got concerned, thinking you were hallucinating.”

Kurt giggled despite himself. “They said they couldn’t make out most of what you were saying, but one word you kept repeating was ‘Holmes.’ They thought that maybe you were a builder or worked in real estate until I figured out you must have been talking about my play.”

Blaine groaned. “Oh my god. It was like I had entered a parallel universe. We and our friends all existed but somehow did different things? You and I had English accents, I was Watson, and I don’t even think we were married to each other. Plus Rachel made a pass at me.”

“No way!” Kurt exclaimed. But then he looked thoughtful. “You know, for Rachel, that’s not a surprise.”

Blaine groaned again, but this time from the headache and nausea. “I think I may have just pushed my brain too hard. I’m going to do the breathing exercises again.”

Kurt sighed. “Oh sweetie. Let me go outside for a minute to speak to Dad and Carole while you rest. I’ll fill them in, and we’ll figure out what we’re doing. I’m the only one they’re allowing to see you for now. I’ll be back.” Kurt leaned down and kissed Blaine again, but on the lips.

Blaine smiled, keeping his eyes closed.

The next morning, Kurt was at his husband’s side, both listening to the nurse’s discharge instructions.

“Blaine, for the next few days, you need to take it easy. That means you want to limit your thinking/remembering activities to prevent your symptoms from getting worse.”

Blaine and Kurt nodded. That was easy, Blaine thought. He could do that.

“You also need to avoid any strenuous physical activity.”

Blaine and Kurt exchanged glances. Did that mean no sex??

The nurse caught on and smiled at them. “I’m sure you can figure out how to be intimate in gentle ways. It’s only for a few days. The rule of thumb for any activity is, if the activity worsens your symptoms, don’t do it until you can tolerate it. If your symptoms don’t worsen, then the activity is okay. Also get plenty of nighttime sleep. Give your body what it needs to heal.”

They talked for a few more minutes. Then Blaine signed off on his discharge papers. The nurse gave him the written instructions to take home. “The wheelchair attendant will be here in a few minutes to take you out. Kurt, do you need to bring your car around?”

“No, my dad will be waiting for us at the front entrance. I just have to text him when we’re ready to leave.”

The nurse smiled, and shook their hands. “Feel better soon, Blaine. You still have a few days to decorate the tree and get ready for Christmas.”

Kurt shook his head. “Blaine’s not doing anything with tree decorations except supervise from the sofa.”

Blaine and the nurse both laughed. “Sounds like a plan,” she said. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

Once they were alone, Kurt lifted Blaine’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better today.”

“Much better,” Blaine replied. “I’m glad I have pain killers for the headache and my side, but I’m a lot less groggy today. I still can’t get over that crazy dream I had.

Kurt put both of Blaine’s hands in his. “If it’s going to be a crazy dream, at least I’m glad I was in it.”

Blaine nodded. “Oh, you were brilliant. Sherlock Holmes saved the day for McKinley High School, and I got to be your faithful Dr. Watson.”

“Now you’ll have a story to tell every Christmas.”

Blaine pulled Kurt to him. “Speaking of Christmas, what do you want Santa to bring you this year?”

Kurt sighed happily and sank into Blaine’s hug. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

The End

End Notes:

The genesis of this fic goes back to 2016, when I submitted the following prompt to the TodayDreamBeliever’s 2016 Gift Exchange: Klaine as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. You get to pick who inhabits which character. You can have them doing anything, e.g. solve a mystery in the style of Holmes or just be hanging out while Holmes plays the violin, or Watson writes his stories for Strand Magazine, as long as it's true to the Sherlock Holmes' canon.

When a different prompt of mine was picked instead, I asked if I could have this one back. I’ve been a huge fan since childhood of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. He wrote numerous long form and short stories featuring these characters, and one of my cherished possessions is a copy of The Complete Sherlock Holmes. If your knowledge of the Holmes canon is from film and/or television, or from contemporary authors such as the brilliant Laurie R. King, who writes the Mary Russell – Sherlock Holmes novels, you owe it to yourself to read what started it all, the stories by Conan Doyle. Begin with the first one, the origin story, A Study in Scarlet. You won’t be able to put them down.

This fic is a mash-up of Klaine and Sherlock Holmes, with a bunch of Glee characters making “cameo appearances” (thanks @flowerfan2 for using that term, I’m stealing it from you for this note!). Throughout the chapters, I have liberally sprinkled a bunch of Glee references which I hope made you smile. I also used some famous Sherlock Holmes quotes from Conan Doyle’s books. In the interest of transparency, and my need to give proper credit, here they are:

“Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!“ FromThe Abbey Grange

“It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts.” From A Scandal in Bohemia

“And you don’t want your name to appear?” “Not at all. The work is its own reward.” From The Norwood Builder

“How often have I said that when you have excluded the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?“ First used in The Sign of Four

#Klaine Advent 2018 #klaine advent: santa #perryavenue fic #Sherlock Holmes (after a fashion)

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mariposalass · 5 years

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July Babies Soup and S’mores Birthday

Summary: It’s the July Babies’ Soup and S’mores Birthday Party and you’re invited to celebrate in the fun.

Setting: Mari and co.’s home in Daly City, California; July 17, 2019, nighttime

Notes: It’s the big joint soup and s’mores birthday party for me, Kairi, and Harry since we’re all July born babies. You can definitely use this as a prompt to write, draw, etc. to accompany this fun story. Also, I will be traveling to Hong Kong with my mom and aunt for the annual summer sale from the 25th to the 28th. Four days after my birthday, which is a first for me as we normally go there some time before my birthday and is becoming a birthday tradition for me. Apologies in advance if I have to do this really early. Also, there’s not too much dialogue in here as to allow everyone to contribute to the event.

Tags: July Babies, birthday, tons of fluff, crossovers, self shipping, soup and s’mores birthday party, joint soup and s’mores party

“Hey there, thanks for coming over,” Mari greets the guests as they arrive in her house one calm July night as she escorts them to the living room for a big birthday party held in her and her adopted siblings’ honor.

She and the fam bunch have been planning this out for a few weeks since during the planning of her brother Harry and her sister in law Issa’s wedding, although due to the time constraints they have with the wedding, they have to settle with a join birthday bash for her, Harry, and Kairi somewhere in the middle of the month as a compromise. But it’s a compromise they’re willing to make this year, and they went for a soup and s’mores party. The three siblings have shared a birth month with their birthdays being separated by 10 days from each other (Kairi being on the 11th, Mari on the 21st, and Harry on the 31st), the main reason why they’re sometimes called the July Babies.

The living room and dining area may have not been wholly decorated to the theme, but it’s pretty clear that there is a soup buffet with four choices: Chunky Lentil Vegetable, Chicken, White Bean & Corn Chowder, Beef Barley, and Classic Mexican Tortilla, a cheese platter enough to feed an army, kale and Parmesan salad for the healthy minded and vegetable eaters, an assortment of bread with jam and butter, a Funfetti cake Kairi and Issa have baked for the occasion and covered with a glass cover and is protected by a spell Harry has placed on that prevents sneaky cake thieves from getting to it before even dinner could be finished, and a drink station with water, lemonade, and iced tea on hand. Outside, the fire pit area has been prepared with roasters on one side, chairs prepped and ready, and an S’Mores bar with assorted chocolates, graham crackers, marshmallows, and various add-ons have set up beforehand nearby at the patio.

The birthday celebrants and the rest of the fam bunch have dressed up well for the event: Mari in particular is wearing a plain white off shoulder top, button-front denim skirt, a pair of brown flats with braiding details, a pair of gold heart earrings, and a gold, ruby, & pearl choker necklace which matches the one Kairi is also wearing with her slim black dress, distressed blue denim jacket, white sneakers, and her usual single bead pendant necklace. Harry didn’t look out of place either in a slate gray chambray shirt, black slacks, and the same leather dress shoes he’d worn on his wedding day. Issa also dresses well for the party in a white & black vertical stripe long-sleeve top, blue denim jacket, black jeans, and light tan flats along with her old silver heart locket necklace, a stack of mixed metal bangles, and her engagement & wedding rings on her right ring finger; Harry also has his wedding ring on his right ring finger too.

“Thanks for coming over here, everybody,” Kairi starts the talk off, “We know this seems not to be a proper birthday in one way or the other, but since we just came off from Harry and Issa’ wedding last week, we thought we’ll just settle on a joint birthday party for me, him, and Mari instead.”

“You can say that again, sis,” Harry chuckled upon hearing that last part, “To be honest, it was due to the timing it had that we felt having three separate birthday parties this year doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“And it’s a good thing it isn’t a surprise party for you either,” Issa reminded him as well, “The last time we did that, you literally dove behind the sofa in fear and annoyance.”

“Oh Merlin, not that one again...” he moaned in despair after hearing that embarrassing moment.

“Don’t worry, we promise no more surprise birthday parties for you,” she cheekily reassured him while giving the concerned wizard-journalist a heartwarming kiss which got him blushing hard.

“Pardon that off topic tangent: Harry hates surprise parties thrown for him A LOT,” Mari apologies to a slightly confused group of guests before continuing her talk, “Anyway, we have soup being warmed up, some cheese, bread, and salad tonight, and s’mores & cake for desserts later. The S’Mores are also the main stars with the soups, but we also have cake if you’re not into roasting marshmallows on an open fire. Either way, I hope you guys will enjoy tonight’s party.”

With that, the brief meeting has been adjourned and everyone soon start getting some soup, sides, and drinks for the dinner portion. Mari’s cousins Edith and Agnes get to play with other children guests in the party with Margo keeping an eye on them, and so does Kirby who also decides to show off some of his Copy Abilities for a quick showcase along with doing his well-known Kirby Dance with some copies of himself for backup dancers in the middle of the event. Mari’s pets Scooby, Marie, Scorbunny, Torchic, Piplup, and Rowlet enjoy playing with the other pets of the guests who got invited to the party.

Meanwhile, Ahk, Sora, Riku, and Vinny are keeping a close lookout on the S’Mores bar as not to get the supplies ruined or stolen before the S’Mores portion can begin while eating dinner with some of guests at the patio, while Ron and Hermione are trying to see if using the Fire Conjuring spell does a better job in lighting up fire pits than normal procedures, which didn’t went too well compared to Harry’s more modest attempts in every S’Mores Night. When guests finished dinner, they’re more than welcomed to play some games and talk with the birthday celebrants and other guests in the house and the backyard.

Either way, the party goes on well for everyone after dinner was done and leftover soups have been poured onto takeout bowls for the guests to bring home when Mari informs everyone that it’s time for the S’mores and Cake time at the patio. Her godmother aunt Diana carefully brought the cake down to the backyard and held onto the glass cover to avoid it falling over and breaking on the ground while Issa and Harry carried plates, dessert forks, and a cake server as they follow her lead.

People soon head for the backyard and to the patio and fire pit area where the S’Mores fest begins: people who would to make them roast up the marshmallows (though some have to go through trial and error in not burning them to not being edible), assemble the chocolate piece and graham cracker, place the roasted marshmallows onto said chocolate, and sometimes customize them to their liking or follow the S’Mores recipes at the bar before placing that last graham cracker and eating them up and, in some cases, rinse, lather and repeat the process.

Then came the cake: Issa carefully took the glass cover from the Funfetti cake and lights up the 3 candles (one for each July Baby), informing everyone that they will sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to the celebrants and, once that was done, the siblings blow the fire from the candles together and start offering cake to anyone who would like some cake and there’s a couple of them who did, along with those not in the mood for S’Mores time. While some of the guests began to dig into the cake, Mari got one slice from Philip, walked up to the table he was in with the Doctor and a few other guests, and sat besides him as she gave him the cake slice and a fork.

“Hope you like some Funfetti cake, deary,” she attempted to flirt with him as she gave him the cake slice.

“A cake like this?” he asked her inquisitively though it was mixed with concern, “Did the Minions tried to bake this like the last time?”

“Actually, Kairi and Issa are the ones who baked it, so no accidents or food poisoning involved,” Mari gladly replied back, “Don’t be so worrisome, have a bite or two.”

He did took a few bites before realizing that it tastes really good that he whispered to her that he’s giving both Kairi and Issa props on baking of the cake before greeting her (Advance) Happy Birthday and sealing it with a playful kiss on the cheeks, which got her blushing. Harry and Issa are chatting with some good friends when they caught wind of the kiss and smile on with pride. They’re aware it’s taking awhile for Mari to get used to dating and Philip to be patient with her and her quirks, but, at the same, they’re quite proud of them taking their time slowly, take things one at a time, enjoying moments as they come, and working on issues they come across.

The party continues on until around pass 10 in the evening when the guests leave with leftover soups for favors, but the mood hasn’t left the fam bunch at all even as they clean the place up and retire for the night. It is one of the best nights they have spent together as a quirky group and, for the birthday celebrants, it is certainly a great moment they shared in the nearly 13 years they have spent as siblings. Perhaps they should hold another one of this party in the near future, who knows? Still, the party is a resounding success with their friends and family and it will surely be a conversation starter for weeks to come.

The End

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youhearstatic · 6 years

Text

Cor’s Adventure Zone Writing

Longer Fics - colabs

A Single Slat of Wood and Canvas - After months of training, Lup fails to bring in her first solo reaper contract. She won’t tell anyone exactly what happened, even Barry. (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

Barry woke with a start. His hand reached for the other side of the bed before he even knew who or where he was.

“Lup?” he asked the empty room.

Her side of the bed was cold. Barry was up and fumbling for his glasses in an instant, his heart pounding.

Made Before the Voidfish (Broken by a Voidfish) - For months Lup, Magnus, and Merle have been haunted by the presence of the ‘red robe’. Often showing up after their adventures to offer cryptic and usually unhelpful warnings and advice. Shortly after the events at Refuge, Lup hatches a plan to finally pin this incomprehensible creature down and get the answers to the questions burning inside her. [TwinSwap AU 1.0] (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

Lup heard her own voice twist into a burst of static. She couldn’t remember what she had just said or hold it in her brain, but her mouth knew the words. She bent over, a lance of pain shooting through her head. It hurt so much, but she was so close to something she just had to keep going.

More static. It was like something was stealing the words away from her. She tried to claw them back, but they just would not stay in. It was like vomiting, but with words that she couldn’t hear.

Lust is a Thing with Fangs - Lup tries to sneak in one more day of laboratory work before her annual heat cycle kicks in. Barry is there. It goes about how you would expect. (Explicit content.) (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

Lup paused at the door to the lab. She stood up straight, wrapping herself in dignity and ignoring her heart pounding in her chest like a jackhammer. It would be fine. It was only Barry. He would be way too focused on his work to notice her trembling, or the fact she was flushed from the tips of her ears to her toes.

Lup licked her lips. She suddenly had the strangest feeling. Like part of her had come to a revelation about something and another was frantically trying to muffle it before it could be brought to her attention.

A Night at The Naughty Kitten - Out of options after the Starblaster hastily relocated without them, Lup and Barry spend the night at a “boutique” “short stay” hotel.

There’s only one bed, but that’s the least of anyone’s problems. (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It wasn’t the first time she’d ended up like this, but every time Lup wondered if it would be the one to break her. He wanted her so badly. Lup didn’t understand how she was supposed to handle seeing it so clearly on his face on top of her own longing.

Sandworms and Other Concerns - Barry discovers that Lup’s presence can improve any situation, including having his arm torn off by a fifty-foot-long, carnivorous, burrowing, acid-spitting, hook-toothed, pinstriped Sandworm. (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic - Also on AO3.) {Hey guys, just to let you know: The sandworm is all in the title. This is Hurt/Comfort wrapped in Fluff. Angst levels are at absolute minimum!}

Lup blinked. Once, then twice. At first, she didn’t know what had woken her up. The ship was perfectly still, aside from the faint thrum of the bond engine that she’d learned how to tune out decades ago. The interior lighting that simulated a day-night cycle was dimmed as low as it went which meant it was still ‘nighttime.’

After a moment, Lup realised what it was. The steady pattern of breathing that lulled her into sleep was coming at its normal pace. Barry was awake.

Longer Fics - solo

Bluejeans, Boxers, and One Bed - A prompt that got out of hand, this is my contribution to the best mutual pining trope out there: There Was Only One Bed! 4500+ words of ridiculous pining with a side dish of underwear angst. Yup, it’s a thing.

She’s tempted to watch but doesn’t, turning to give him the same privacy he afforded her. She already knows he wears boxers. They’ve all seen each other’s laundry enough to know every article of clothing by heart. He has navy blue ones, two different types of plaids, and red ones with white hearts that she’s wanted to ask about for years now. Something about them screams Valentine’s Gift Set and she wants to know the story. Were they a serious gift? A gag gift? Did he get his heart broken? Was he…

Lup’s heart stutters wildly for a few beats. Was he in a relationship when they left?

Losing Time - (Post Story and Song) After being missing for three days, Barry has been mysteriously de-aged. Now he looks 20 years old and doesn’t remember anyone. Lup, Kravitz, and Taako are trying to figure things out. (17k words)

His hair is thicker, his face smoother. He’s still heavy but lighter than she’s used to. She’s known him for over a hundred years while neither of them aged.

And now he’s a stranger.

Losing Time “Exit Interview” (10 fanfic questions answered about Losing Time. Includes a lot of behind the scenes and extended explanations.)

It’s About Time - This is a love letter to Barry Bluejeans of sorts: the whole campaign of The Adventure Zone: Balance (and then some) told from Barry’s point of view. (All the Time in the Worlds Series, Pt two. Meaning it’s essentially the Barry POV companion fic to A Thousand Tiny Moments. WIP, updates Fridays.)

Two days later Barry is dead.

Again.

All those contradictions and questions are filled when he rises, spectral and nearly overwhelmed with more emotions than his lich form can handle.

Because when he’s dead he can remember it all.

Contradictions (Prologue - tumblr link)

A Thousand Tiny Moments - Before being chosen for the Starblaster crew, Lup meets someone at a party. It doesn’t go well. (All the Time in the Worlds Series, Pt one, the Lup POV companion fic to It’s About Time. 14k words)

She drifts closer to him and slowly, so slowly, she bends her head to his. She pauses inches away, not yet touching but so close they share breath. Her hand slides along the lapel of his jacket and she feels his chest rise as he breathes in.

She looks at his mouth and thinks this is the last moment before I kiss him.It’s as inevitable as his chest falling beneath her hand as he exhales. So she kisses him. His lips are warm and soft against hers with the rich sting of alcohol painted on both their mouths.

The Lup POV minific that became A Thousand Tiny Moments

A Thousand Tiny Moments “Exit Interview” (10 fanfic questions answered about ATTM. Includes a lot of behind the scenes and extended explanations.)

Short Fics

Barry & Lup:

Morning in Bed (Lup and Barry just cuddling and being in love. Prompt Request.)

It’s Cold Outside But You’re Warm (Lup and Barry mutual pining. Prompt Request.)

Strings (Lup and Barry just performed their song. Lup has a few final doubts.)

What If She’s Just Gone? (Barry’s anxieties get away from him when Lup is missing. Prompt request.)

Will You Marry Me (Barry does what he has to. Prompt Request.)

Reactions (The twins deal with Barry being ill. Prompt Request.)

Curse and Canyon (Barry is hurt. Lup is trying to deal. Prompt Request.)

Take a Picture (Lup is frustrated. Prompt request.)

Your Laugh is so Adorable (Lup does some reluctant pining. Prompt request.)

Don’t Touch Me (Barry and Lup short experimental piece.)

Gathering (Taako plans a party. Prompt request.)

It was the Pottery (Taako teasing Barry. Prompt request.)

Super Short & Cutesy (Barry and Lup in the lab. Prompt request.)

What You Did Was Stupid (Barry and Lup on Tesseralia. Prompt request.)

This One is Really Dark (You’ve been warned. Prompt request.)

Let Me Help You (Prompt request for Barry & Lup.)

You Don’t Have to Act Like You’re Okay (Prompt request for Barry and Lup.)

Pride (Prompt based minific of Lup coming to Barry’s rescue at a Pride event.)

Hotel Balcony (A prompt based modern meet-cute for Barry and Lup.)

Hotel Balcony Pt 2 (Hey look, there’s more!)

Contradictions (Test minific/opener for the Barry POV fic that is in progress.)

Lup and Barry switch (Lup is the one that falls from the Starblaster, taking Taako with her.)

At the Wedding (Barry and Lup at Carey and Killian’s wedding. Quick scene inspired by a post.)

True Seeing (Barry in a voidfished body with a group of adventurers. Short group write piece.)

Other Short TAZ Pieces:

Getting Home (Super short Magnulia prompt)

Love is Dead (Taako has never had a soulmark. Kravitz gets one only after he dies. Taakitz Soulmate/Soulmark AU with Blupjeans background)

Second Chances ( When Lucretia gets the second void fish she realizes she can inoculate Davenport and talk to him.)

Just You and Me (JohnChurch prompt request.)

Karma is a Bitch/What Did You Say? (Taako & Barry’s friendship prompt request.)

Can You Keep a Secret? (Taako & Barry’s friendship prompt request.)

Meta, Etc

Headcanons:

[The Twins | Taako & Lup]

[The Lover | Barry]

[The Protector | Magnus]

[The Lonely Journal Keeper | Lucretia | The Director]

[The Peacemaker | Merle]

[The Wordless One | Davenport]

[Kravitz]

[Miscellaneous]

Meta:

Lucretia and the Red Robes (Pt 1) Lucretia and the Red Robes (Pt 2)

A list of every conversation Lucretia has with the boys about the Red Robes and a discussion of her thought process/intentions. Part 2 focuses specifically on how her words in Ep 59 may have influenced Magnus’s decisions going forward.

Murder or Suicide: What is it when lich!Barry sets up his living!Barry body to die?

Other:

TAZ Balance Characters as WoW Classes

#taz fic #taz balance #barry and lup #blupjeans #taakitz #barry bluejeans #lup #mywriting #mystuff #fic list #it was time for another update!

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cupofkoushi · 6 years

Text

Script

OiSuga Weekend: April 29 patterns / post-apocalypse / free prompt

Rated: G No Warnings Apply Word Count: 1,604

Working late night shifts at the university library has its perks.

Suga heard the bell ding at the front of the counter, much like it did every night, and he looked up to see Oikawa standing there, grinning at him. He was holding his laptop against his chest and for a moment, Oikawa looked a little winded, like he had rushed here.

Suga loved working the night shift at the university library. Working nighttime hours meant that the only students present were ones who were cramming in homework late at night, nose deep in textbooks and laptops, far too busy to really need anything from Suga. The nights were slow and usually allowed him to work on his own homework while he watched the clock tick by. Nighttime was easier than the day shifts.

The cute biology major with chestnut hair and confident eyes who came to the library every weeknight was an added bonus.

“Hello, Oikawa.”

“Hi, Suga-chan! I need to check out the supplemental literature textbook for Takeda’s class. 4353?”

Suga got up from his seat and walked directly to the location he knew the textbook was placed. He found 4353 easily, the placement familiar to him considering Oikawa checked it out every single night.

When Suga returned and took Oikawa’s ID, he always found himself grinning at the picture on it. Oikawa looked the exact same in his picture as he did in person but there was an over-saturation in the lighting and Oikawa came out looking washed out. It was even funnier that Oikawa wasn’t smiling.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa cried as Suga snickered behind his hand. “You always laugh at my ID!”

“Oikawa, you need to retake it. It’s like the same price as that giant cup of coffee you always buy,” Suga responds with another grin, pointedly looking at the thermos resting on the counter. “I know it’s coffee.”

Oikawa looks at him pointedly. “I refuse to pay for another ID when this one is perfectly fine.”

“You’re not even smiling in it.”

“She didn’t tell me that she was taking the picture yet! It wasn’t my fault!” Oikawa wailed, but stopped when Suga finished scanning it and was already handing it back to him. Suga held back another round of laughter when Oikawa snatched it back with immense vigor, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I’m also not going to give up the money I spend on my coffee to retake this stupid picture.”

Suga hummed, scanning the textbook lazily as he rested his chin on his palm, looking back up at a flustered Oikawa.

“I mean, then don’t get mad when I laugh at it next time.”

Oikawa clicked his tongue. “I’m going to start studying outside of your shifts, Suga-chan. You’re no longer my favorite person here anymore.”

Suga looked up at him with a slight grin. It was like this every night. Oikawa would come in, ask for the same textbook, they would bicker, Oikawa would threaten to come bother a different employee at a different time, Suga would tell him to go ahead, and Oikawa would huff and leave. Then at the end of the night, Oikawa would return the book, flirt some more, then they would talk until closing time.

Suga had no real idea who Oikawa was outside of their library encounters. He knew Oikawa was a biology major, although not entirely sure what for. He knew Oikawa had Takeda’s literature class and they shared the same kinesiology professor but at different times. Suga also knew that Oikawa liked his coffee with milk instead of creamer and four sugar packets, opting for the blonde roast to receive the most amount of caffeine the coffee shop had to offer. And he also knew that sometimes Oikawa would forget to take off his glasses when he came back to return his textbooks and Suga’s heart melted every time he looked at sleepy eyes behind those glasses.

“I’ll take my chances,” Suga sighed as he handed the book over, Oikawa snatching it much like he had his ID. “Although, I don’t know if those other employees would let you get away with checking out that textbook longer than the allocated hour slot like I do, hm?”

Oikawa pouted. “I suppose not. I guess they wouldn’t be as cute to look at either.”

This was new.

“I don’t know, have you seen Akaashi-san? Works in the morning? He’s quite the looker. I think he might have me beat.”

Oikawa cocked his head to the side, almost as if he were soaking in Suga’s words. He looked a little lost in thought before he spoke, like he didn’t expect what Suga had said. “Does he have a cute mole under the corner of his eye like you do? I don’t know. Hard to compete if he doesn’t.”

Suga absentmindedly touched the mark under his eye. It was something akin to a trademark, especially for him with his silver hair, but no one had slyly complimented it like Oikawa just had. For some reason, Suga felt embarrassed and felt his pulse slightly increase as he covered the mark with his fingertips.

Oikawa pouted again. “No need to get shy. That’s very unlike you.”

“No need to get cocky. Although, that is very like you,” Suga bit as hard as he could, although, it lacked the venom he was aiming for.

Oikawa simply laughed as he leaned forward on the counter between them, crossing his arms over it as he grinned up at Suga who was still blushing profusely. Suga was slightly agitated that his composure had been broken. He was always good at matching Oikawa on nights like this and it was frustrating that Oikawa deviating from their normal script for a fraction of a second knocked him off his feet.

Oikawa’s smug look told him that he knew what he was doing.

“Well, thanks for the textbook,” Oikawa chimed, but didn’t seem like he made any effort to leave. He was still leaning forward, curious brown eyes fixed on Suga.

“Sure.”

“Maybe I should get a new ID.”

“Is that so?” Suga felt himself calming down, his demeanor returning to normal. “What about it?”

“How about I buy a new ID so you can stop laughing at me every night but in return, you have to buy me the coffee I missed out on buying?”

Suga blinked as a moment of silence passed.

“Why would I buy you a coffee? You can walk around with that hideous picture for all I care.” But there was a lilt to Suga’s own voice, one that he accompanied with a smile. “Maybe other people can get a good laugh on campus when you show them your picture.”

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow and slung his bag over his shoulder to his chest so he could ruffle through it. When he pulled out a sticky note and began scribbling on it with his pen, Suga impatiently waited to see what he was doing.

Oikawa handed the note over and when Suga turned it around, he felt his eyes widen at the phone number scrawled across the paper in thin but uniform writing.

He vaguely wondered what Oikawa’s notes must look like if his writing was this pretty.

“I don’t need your number,” Suga said as he tucked the sticky note underneath the cover of his planner that was set aside when he had been doing homework earlier. “You come in here every night.”

“Yeah, but how about… I meet you there at the coffee shop on campus and we consider it a coffee date.”

And for the second time that night, Suga is completely caught off guard and grows flustered knowing that Oikawa has been able to do it to him twice in the last ten minutes. Suga almost couldn’t formulate a response to it.

Oikawa slowly looked more uncomfortable each time another silent moment passed. It took a while for Suga to even respond, but when he realized that he hadn’t even used his mouth to form words, he slams his palm on the counter and Oikawa jumps so far back that Suga is almost impressed.

“Sorry! Yes! I think— I don’t have class tomorrow, but I do work at 8, so if you want we can get coffee before I come into work and before you study?”

It was Oikawa’s turn to look at Suga with widened eyes, a slight blush forming on his cheeks to match Suga’s. They both stared at each other for a while, Suga shocked that Oikawa had even asked him out on a date, and Oikawa seemingly surprised that Suga had agreed, even though he was the one who had asked.

“S-sounds like a date, Suga-chan!”

Suga nodded and follows it up with a grin, his fingers fumbling with the corner of his planner even as Oikawa awkwardly smiled and scurried away like he was running away from a fire. Suga had to catch his breath before he sat back down in his chair, quietly wringing his fingers in thought. He glanced at the cover of his planner, staring at the pale yellow sticky note peeking out from the corner and sighed happily.

He got a cute boy’s number tonight.

A couple hours later, Oikawa returned to hand in the loaned textbook. When Suga scanned it back in and clears him, Oikawa winked and provided a bright smile.

“See you tomorrow, Suga-chan.”

“7:00 at the coffee shop on campus right?”

“7:00 at the coffee shop on campus.”

Oikawa waved goodbye, eyes a little sleepy from studying all night. Suga waved back in return and spends the rest of the night trying to quell the rapid beating of his heart.

He got a cute boy’s number and a date.

Hello! I just wanted to add a brief note to let you guys know that we are part of an OiSuga zine right now! Some of the other contributors to OiSuga weekend are actually contributors for the zine! Like ridzakun (x / x), myjellyart (x), oisugasuga (x), iceandbrimstone (x), and of course myself (x / x).

If you’d like to check us out or follow the zine, please check us all out here! <3

#oisuga weekend #haikyuu!!#oisuga #oikawa x sugawara #fic #ahhh #i was originally going to scrap this whole thing and redo it for the patterns prompt #bc i really like the idea of patterns #but i had written this a week ago in advance #and rereading it made me kind of love it #so here we are #oisuga weekend was a lot of fun!!!#i'm glad i made it all three days #shout out to liza for talking me through all of oisuga weekend #also #my friends and i always talk about how we would want to #work at our library this late #i see the person at the front desk at like 2am just chilling #i need that in my life

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